I was suggested to write a few words on the streets in our island towns that do not have names, just numbers. A funny thing, if you think. Many foreigners that come around always ask for the address, street name, something… and we get all confused. Our streets have no name. Yes, it is complicated.
I never really thought about it seriously and I never would give it a serious though until been asked to direct someone to a certain place. I am aware that it is regular thing for the regular people in regular towns. Well, we are not regular. That is what I always try to explain to others. We are islanders, just like...
I want to add a note of the bad story of having streets with no name. The story that pops up immediately when you mention the streets with no name. It was about an Irish town separated by street names that told the difference in religion and wealth. Terrible thing, probably worse ever. We also have a recent history of war powered by intolerance and yes, we know how dangerous is to separate, hate, differ. Our streets also tell a story, but luckily, not of a conflict, rage, difference. The story of our streets is of those island people who share their courtyards with family and neighbours. Our streets have passages and stairways, domes and balconies hanging over, most with clothes hanging from while the walls wear rose bushes and capers trees as fantastic nature designs. Our streets sometimes still paved with slippery stones, worn out by the donkeys and mules who carried burdens of our grandfathers. Our streets have no name but have so many stories of happiness, sadness, births and deaths, going away and getting backs, stories we most share among… often with families scattered across the globe, I would say, just like the Irish.
Our streets are often shared between families, so one side of the street has owners with one surname and the other side of another. It has been like that for ages, and yes, still often is.
If you ask me where some person of a certain surname lives I would most probably know. If you would ask me by an eventual street name or a specific address, I would become even more confused. So, it is fine as it is, confusing, unexplainable, but… it is the way it is.
You are on an island, streets have no name, and I believe that somewhere, somehow, there must be a good reason for that. Our streets with no name tell a story of gathering, sharing and understanding. Isn't that a far better reason to write a song!?
Posted by Davor