Roaring in the dark

I'm in a small experimental theater just around the corner from where I live. The performance is quite spectacular. A play by Dario Fo performed by an Israeli director who adapted it first from Italian to Hebrew and then to English. It is a one-man show, a play about tolerance and the fear of the "other". A strong anti-war and humanitarian message thinly disguised in this "Tale of a tiger". At one point the actor asks us to translate (and understand) "Tigreese", the language of the tiger. He is roaring and we are shouting "Eat!". "Yes! You see, everybody can understand Tigreese...". Soon after we are asked to speak "Tigreese". We are ask to roar. Roar as loud as we want and find in it the power to heal. We make a list of all the things one could roar against or for. Shouts are coming from the public: "Tolerance!", "Peace!", "The middle east!", "Against stupidity". One woman cries out "For the planets!". The actor is quite surprised. "For what?" "The planets!" He smiles. "This is an interesting thought. So let's all roar for all of these and the planets". On the count of three, we all roar with pleasure, all of us hidden by the darkness of the room.

On my way back home, I don't even shrug when a big rat crosses the street right in front of me, a mere 10 meters from my place. I am still a tiger.