Walking into the El Barounia library today I did not know what to expect. I spend most of my time in the library at Columbia. It is technically my sacred place. Burke Library, in my opinion has the upmost sanctity. Given Burke Library’s position as the primary library for Union Theological Seminary students, I like to think that everyone in the room tries to maintain a level of spirituality (even those who claim to be agnostic, must still connect with the spirit of disbelief). The students studying in the room are serious. They are serious, but peaceful. Sometimes, when I walk into the library of Butler, I can feel the thick tension. I can feel the souls in the library that have paved the way for me. I can feel the heaviness in the room.
I can often feel the heaviness in a space. The “quiet noise,” as I like to call it. I am tapped into the frequencies of the bandwidth of the room. Sometimes, I can sense things that people cannot. The El Barounia Library felt new. It felt fresh. It felt different. When information was shared about how new the library was, I was not surprised.
El Barounia Library was such a powerful space. You can feel the positive energy emanating from the books. It all became quite clear to me once I realized that we were visiting on the premier libraries (if not, only) in all of Djerba Island. It was so moving to see the way Saiid Barounia, head librarian, gently flipped turn the pages of books that he worked so hard to preserve. He spoke so proudly of the technique he used to preserve old books and the work he continues to do to maintain the new ones. He proudly showed us a bottle filled with dust that he collected from only one book. Barounia demonstrated his delicate use of his brush for sweeping off the dust from the book. With each wipe of the brush, I could feel Barounia’s pride. Through conversation, with Barounia, it became clear that preserving manuscripts had been a family legacy, requested in his grandfather’s will. While other families on Djerba island discard book, the Barounia family protects them (as Saiid describes it).
Chaplain Davis gave me the great honor of presenting to him a gift on behalf of the Kraft Global Fellows and the Office of the University Chaplain. I was so moved by how gentle his hands were. The same gentle hand that preserved these books that seek to transcend time. I want to give him gentle words. All who enter this sacred place are important. I feel the sanctity in the library at Columbia and at El Barounia. It was a beautiful moment to see Chaplain Davis writing kind thoughts on behalf of Columbia.
Before I left the library, I wanted to see what his grandfather looked like. I was quickly invited back into the conference room to view three perfectly aligned photos of three generation of Barounia men. Saiid proudly said “That is my father, my grandfather, and me.” I asked if he would like to take a picture underneath his photo, he calmly sat down underneath his photo with his hands placed atop each of his knees. His sister quickly interjected to fix his hair. After taking the photo, he made a joke and asked me if he looked any different (being that the photo taken was one of him as young lad). I said “no, nothing has changed.”
This space offers something new, but yet taps into the traditional spirit of Djerba Island. I believe that America can take a few notes when it comes to maintaining family traditions such as keeping a family library. We need to return to respecting our elders. We need to return to assisting our youth in understanding their history. I would like to return to preserving my family’s history and understanding my Haitian ancestry. This summer, I actually began constructing my family tree with my oldest living relative (my great great uncle) who lives in Brooklyn. He has since past away, but I am happy that I got a chance to listen to him and gain the knowledge that he shared with me.
Side note:
It is crazy to think that today I ate fish from the Mediterranean Sea. When it comes to eating, I try to not draw too much attention to myself. Maryam whispered into my ear if I would like to try some fish. I appreciated the quietness to her offering. It made me feel quite comfortable. I wanted to try this fish—fish caught from the Mediterranean Sea.
