The dignity of a lion: A silent witness to our history.
The Weight of a Lion’s Mane: From Childhood Sorrow to Finding Peace in Zoos
Notably, wherever I travel, my first question to the hosts or internet search is always the same: “Where is the ZOO here?” This is not just the ordinary curiosity of a tourist. Indeed, my fascination with animals is not fleeting; it is a deep, almost ancient connection I feel toward nature. Consequently, even in the hardest times, such as during the pandemic when the gates of Paris finally opened, my first stop was not a museum or a restaurant, but the zoo. It was my way to breathe life again and connect with what is authentic.
A Primitive Connection to Nature
Today, I enjoy places like the Beauval Zoo. Specifically, when I observe those magnificent animals—clean, well-fed, in spaces carefully designed to imitate their natural habitats—I feel a sense of peace. However, that peace is not simple. Indeed, it has a deep, bitter foundation, layers that deposit like minerals in the earth, which always takes me back to Split, to the days of my youth. This is part of my Geology of Silence.
Back then, I attended the school for veterinary assistants. Specifically, I was young, full of ideals, and life seemed like unexplored terrain to me. The call from the then-Split ZOO arrived like a sentence, not an invitation to a drill. Indeed, the lion had died. My professor, a man who recognized my true love for animals, took me with him to the investigation and autopsy, along with one of my classmates. While we climbed toward the top of Marjan hill, I felt the weight of that ascent. Consequently, I knew every path and every rock where I had run with my father from cage to cage in happier days.
Crystallization of Truth in a Bare Cage
When we entered that last cage, the sight that greeted me forever changed my view of the world. The lion lay there—long, thin, alone. Indeed, it was but a shadow of what a lion was supposed to be. Specifically, after a brief examination, the professor stated in a cold, professional voice: “He died of hunger.”
I cried. Specifically, I knew a veterinarian should be cold and possess expertise that transcends emotions. However, I was then just a girl whose heart was breaking from injustice. In that moment, while others focused on the procedure, I took out a keychain a friend had given me—small scissors. Consequently, I discreetly took a lock of his **lion’s mane**. It was my silent protest, my vow that I would always, wherever I went, look out for those who have no voice. I kept that lock for years through all my moves until it was lost in the whirlwind of life, but that feeling—that weight in my stomach—remained with me.
Inspecting Dignity at Beauval Zoo
That Zoo is closed today because it was unable to ensure a dignified life for its residents. Nevertheless, even today, a chill runs through me when I think of that Marjan hill, the summer sun that scorched those cages without shade, that bare forest, and the dust. Because of that experience, I visit zoos today as if I am on an “inspection.” Specifically, I look to see if they are happy. This reflects my Internal Crystallization.
Beauval was a revelation for me. Indeed, it is huge, beautiful, and so spacious that it cannot be toured in a single day. Observing those animals, I see progress. Furthermore, animals should, of course, be free in their natural environment; that is the ideal we all strive for. However, in the world as it is, man wants to profit from their existence. Specifically, education. People come, look, learn about the behavior of these beings. If we have already enclosed them, we owe them dignity, cleanliness, and space.
While I walk through Beauval, I feel how that heavy stone of pain from my childhood slowly turns into dust. Indeed, it is replaced by the new knowledge that animal care is changing for the better. This is my tectonics of the heart—a constant shift from sorrow toward understanding. Ultimately, we are not here to possess nature but to treat it with deep respect, carrying the memory of every lion who was not lucky. This is the **lion’s mane** of my soul.
Le Poids d’une Crinière de Lion : De la Douleur de l’Enfance à la Paix Retrouvée
Notamment, où que je voyage, ma première question est toujours la même : « Où se trouve le ZOO ici ? » Ce n’est pas une simple curiosité de touriste. En effet, ma fascination pour les animaux n’est pas éphémère ; c’est un lien profond, presque ancestral, que je ressens envers la nature. Par conséquent, même dans les moments les plus difficiles, ma première étape ne fut ni un musée ni un restaurant, mais le zoo. C’était ma façon de respirer à nouveau et de me connecter à l’authentique.
Une connexion primitive à la nature
Aujourd’hui, j’apprécie des lieux comme le Zoo de Beauval. Précisément, quand j’observe ces animaux magnifiques — propres, bien nourris — je ressens un apaisement. Cependant, cette paix n’est pas simple. En effet, elle a un fond amer qui me ramène toujours à Split, aux jours de ma jeunesse. Cela fait partie de ma Géologie du Silence.
À l’époque, je fréquentais l’école d’assistants vétérinaires. Précisément, l’appel du zoo de Split d’alors est tombé comme un verdict. En effet, le lion était mort. Mon professeur m’a emmenée avec lui pour l’autopsie. En montant vers le sommet de la colline du Marjan, je sentais le poids de cette ascension. Par conséquent, je connaissais chaque sentier et chaque rocher où j’avais couru avec mon père autrefois.
La cristallisation de la vérité
Quand nous sommes entrés dans cette dernière cage, le spectacle qui m’a accueillie a changé à jamais ma vision du monde. Le lion gisait là — long, maigre, seul. En effet, il n’était que l’ombre de ce qu’un lion aurait dû être. Précisément, après un bref examen, le professeur a déclaré d’une voix froide : « Il est mort de faim ».
J’ai pleuré. Précisément, je savais qu’un vétérinaire devait être froid. Cependant, je n’étais alors qu’une jeune fille dont le cœur se brisait devant l’injustice. À ce moment-là, j’ai sorti un porte-clés — de petits ciseaux. Par conséquent, j’ai discrètement pris une mèche de sa **crinière de lion**. C’était mon serment de toujours veiller sur ceux qui n’ont pas de voix. Ce sentiment est resté gravé dans ma Cristallisation Interne.
Inspecter la dignité à Beauval
Ce zoo est fermé aujourd’hui car il était incapable d’assurer une vie digne. Néanmoins, un frisson me parcourt quand je pense à cette colline du Marjan. À cause de cette expérience, je visite les zoos aujourd’hui comme si j’étais en « inspection ». Précisément, je cherche à voir s’ils sont heureux, suivant mon Manifeste d’Acier et de Cristaux.
Beauval fut une révélation. En effet, c’est immense et magnifique. En observant ces animaux, je vois le progrès. Mais si nous les enfermons pour l’éducation, nous leur devons la dignité. C’est ma **tectonique du cœur** — un mouvement constant de la tristesse vers la compréhension. Finalement, nous portons la mémoire de chaque lion pour assurer un avenir meilleur aux autres. C’est la **crinière de lion** de mon âme.
Težina lavlje grive: Od dječje tuge do pronalaženja mira u zoološkim vrtovima
Značajno je da kamo god otputujem, moje prvo pitanje domaćinima ili pretraga na internetu uvijek je ista: „Gdje je ovdje ZOO?“ To nije tek obična znatiželja turista. Doista, moja fascinacija životinjama nije prolazna; to je duboka poveznica koju osjećam prema prirodi. Slijedom toga, čak i u najtežim vremenima, poput onih tijekom pandemije kada su se vrata Pariza konačno otvorila, moja prva postaja nije bio muzej niti restoran, već zoološki vrt. Bio je to moj način da ponovno udahnem život.
Iskonska povezanost s prirodom
Danas uživam u mjestima poput ZOO-a Beauval. Specifično, kada promatram te veličanstvene životinje – čiste i nahranjene – osjećam smiraj. No, taj mir nije jednostavan. Doista, on ima duboku, gorku podlogu, slojeve koji se talože poput minerala u zemlji, što me uvijek vraća u Split, u dane moje mladosti. To je dio moje Unutarnje kristalizacije.
Tada sam pohađala školu za veterinarske asistente. Specifično, bila sam mlada, puna ideala. Poziv iz tadašnjeg splitskog ZOO-a stigao je kao presuda, a ne kao poziv na vježbu. Doista, lav je umro. Moj profesor poveo me sa sobom na očevid i obdukciju. Dok smo se penjali prema vrhu brda Marjan, osjećala sam težinu tog uspona. Slijedom toga, znala sam svaku stazu i svaku stijenu po kojoj sam s ocem trčala u sretnijim danima.
Kristalizacija istine u ogoljenom kavezu
Kada smo ušli u taj posljednji kavez, prizor koji me dočekao zauvijek mi je promijenio pogled na svijet. Lav je ležao tamo – dug, mršav, sam. Doista, bio je tek sjena onoga što je lav trebao biti. Specifično, profesor je samo tiho izustio: „Umro je od gladi.“
Plakala sam. Specifično, znam, veterinar bi trebao biti hladan, trebao bi posjedovati stručnost koja nadilazi emocije. Ali ja sam tada bila samo djevojčica čije je srce pucalo od nepravde. U tom trenutku izvadila sam male škare. Slijedom toga, diskretno sam uzela pramen njegove **lavlje grive**. Bio je to moj tihi protest i moj zavjet da ću uvijek paziti na one koji nemaju glasa. Taj osjećaj ostao je trajni dio moje geologije duše.
Inspekcija dostojanstva u Beauvalu
Taj je ZOO danas zatvoren, jer nije bio u mogućnosti osigurati dostojanstven život svojim stanovnicima. Ipak, i danas me prožima jeza kada pomislim na to brdo Marjan i ljetno sunce koje je pržilo te kaveze. Zbog tog iskustva, danas posjećujem zoološke vrtove kao da sam na „inspekciji“. Specifično, tražim da li su sretni, prateći svoj Manifest Čelika i Kristala.
Beauval je za mene bio otkriće. Doista, ogroman, prelijep, toliko prostran da se ne može obići u jednom danu. Gledajući te životinje, vidim napredak. Životinje bi, naravno, trebale biti slobodne u svom prirodnom okruženju. No, u svijetu kakav jest, dugujemo im dostojanstvo, čistoću i prostor.
Dok hodam Beauvalom, osjećam kako se onaj teški kamen bola iz mog djetinjstva polako pretvara u prašinu. Doista, to je moja tektonika srca – stalno pomicanje od tuge prema razumijevanju. U konačnici, nismo ovdje da bismo posjedovali prirodu, već da bismo se prema njoj odnosili s dubokim poštovanjem, noseći u sebi sjećanje na svakog lava koji nije imao sreće. To je **lavlja griva** moje duše.
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