The shape of this report is based on an apparent contradiction. My stay in New York City was one of the most interesting experiences in my life. I knew it would be like this before I left Europe; I was also aware of it when I was there; and, a few months later, I realize how deeply this few weeks impressed me. I spent a lot of time, thinking about what I saw, and I often felt that I would have to take the time to put my ideas in order. But I never thought that the Foreign Experience Report could be such an occasion. Here is the contradiction: how could I make an objective report on a time when I was so often shared between anger, compassion, scorn and fascination? How could my description be honest, if I would have to hide some of the things I saw, some of the thoughts I had, some of the meetings I did? I was preparing myself to make a cold and blind report about an electrical engineering society and the city where it take place. I was about to give up with my idea of a complete overview and synthesis of this experience.

But, thanks God, I had not understood what was expected from us for this report. The reading of the guidelines taught me that a subjective point of view was allowed, and, more, asked. Of course, there were some other constraints, certainly necessary, which would give me the skeleton I needed for my work; but a wind of freedom had blown through this few pages! Because I wanted so much to report what I saw and felt, this report had to be a story. Because what I lived was an educative experience, this story had to be a report. These two (mixed) goals were certainly difficult, but giving me more work, they also gave me the excitation I needed to begin.

This report is divided into three parts. The first one deals with my work in L. K. Comstock, an electrical engineering contractor; the second with what I saw in New York City; the third with what I thought about it. This method allows me to describe the two aspects of my life during my stay, and then to synthesis what they brought to me. But the partition of the report is also the partition of the story. It is the story of three imbricate worlds. The first is the office, where I quickly found my place and knew everybody. The third is the United States of America, where I was a foreigner, almost an enemy even if nobody could notice it. The second is New York, and as we will see, nobody is foreigner in this city. The parts of this report can also be seen as the stories of my adaptation to each of these worlds.

Part 1: Three days at L. K. Comstock, Inc.

Of course, the title of this part is surprising. I would not be honest, if I say that it was not one of my aims: someone surprised by a title, will certainly read with more interest what follows it. But it also makes sense, just to speak of some days of work. In a more “classical” way, the titles of the chapters would have been the three periods that I discerned in my stay at the office, because that is, in fact, with what they are dealing. It makes sense, just to speak of three days of work, because nothing looks more like a day of work better that an other one. This is especially true when the work is very repetitive and does not require any thinking.

The better way I found to describe each period at the office was to tell the process of one of its days.

Chapter 1: The first day

Subchapter 1: The bus through Queens

I had been living in Manhattan for less than two days when I first go to work in Queens. The most surprising is not how many differences you can find between these two boroughs, but how immediately you noticed them. Manhattan is rich; Queens is poor. The first is the most famous area of skyscrapers; in the second, there is only one big building (Queens contains two of the three airports of the New York area: JFK and La Guardia: this is a measure of security). In Manhattan, you can see in the streets all the people on earth, in Queens some are much more represented, maybe because of the first difference.

I first took the subway from Grand Central Station to Hunter’s Point. Then I had to wait for the bus, which would bring me to the quarter of Maspeth, in the middle of the borough. For me Queens stays what I saw this morning: a big, dead, working area, where the streets have no name. It is not because one called them by numbers (who would say that “Fifth Avenue” is not a name!), but because any of them could be exchange with another.

Subchapter 2: Photocopying

First, I made a big tour round the office, during which I heard so many names that I hardly remembered those of the people who guided me. The office was divided in two types of building. The administration was in a normal one, built with stones. The engineers were in temporary ones. I was affected to the 63^rd street project, which was dealing with the refection of a subway tunnel in the north of Queens.

During the first weeks, my main work was photocopying the big plans, which had to be sent to the client (the Metropolitan Transit Authority) or the sub-contractors. I learnt how to use a special machine (OCÉ machine), and quickly most of my capacities were devoted to the optimization of the copying process.

Subchapter 3: Ann

Ann was one of the few secretaries of the engineering desk. She immediately decided to take care of me. She was interested in the life I had in Europe, and we used to talk a lot together. Because she was one of the very few smokers, since this first day, we were taking our pauses together outside. She symbolizes for me the niceness of most of the people of the office, which were always making sure that I was feeling all right.

Chapter 2: A hot summer day in Queens

Subchapter 4: Classifying

After a few weeks, I was been given a new work : I had to compare the computer logs of the files with the files themselves. This was different from photocopying. I needed to stay very concentrated, because I had to compare a lot of dates. At the beginning it was quite difficult because the way they are dating the documents is different from France (month/day/year instead of day/month/year).

During this time, I thought a lot about the problem of organization. I think that it is very difficult for the generation working nowadays, because they are between the two ages of paper and computer. In a few years, everything will certainly be in the computers, and there will be no need anymore to synchronize two types of filing which are so different.

Subchapter 5: Natasha

During this period, the most difficult part of the day was the morning. I got used to having lunch quite late, so the afternoon was shorter. I also took the habit to have lunch in a little” diner”, which was on the other side of the street. The diners are very typical of New York; they are little restaurants, where you mostly eat hamburgers. Natasha, the receptionist, was used to having lunch with me.

She was deputizing for this job, and lived in Jamaica, a quarter of Queens. She did not have a lot of money, and her life did not seem to be easy. Her mother used to live in Paris and France was fascinating her. I shared my impressions with her, and she told me her dreams. She wanted to sing, to have the life of an artist. She was intelligent and sensitive, and at this time, I was naively thinking that it was enough to succeed. But she always felt sure that she would never do anything good and that it was her fate to be nothing.

The first thing we talked about was how race and skin color are considered. She told me that she thought it should make no difference between people. Then she was studying my reaction, I thought naively, again, that she was just telling me that it does not matter for her, what I found normal. But, in fact, in her mind it was everything. That is how I first met the tragedy of black American people: the bad-consciousness to have been slaves. As if they were responsible of it. As though this beautiful young girl, this “black magic woman”, like I used to call her thinking of the singer Santana, was responsible from the scorning looks upon her.

Subchapter 6: The cigarette outside

Among my best remembers of this period, are the pauses I used to take, smoking a cigarette outside. I left the coolness of the air-conditioning for the heat of the summer afternoon. One of the numerous excesses of New York is that it is really cold in winter, and really hot in summer. I just spent the summer there, and I cannot imagine what coolness means in this city.

It was always the same ritual: I was finding a place under the shadow, lighting my cigarette and thinking mainly about what I was seeing during the day. The planes of the two airports sounded in the sky. As they do all day long.

Thanks to this habit, I became friend with the workers, who were handling with the materials outside. Sometimes, when they seemed in trouble, I proposed to give a hand. They always refused, arguing I would be dirty. They were right, my place was not there; then I went back to the office.

Chapter 3: The last day

Subchapter 7: Fred

My stay in L. K. Comstock was already over. I had the curious feeling that I had been living for years in New York, although I had just begun to work. I woke up earlier this morning, because I insisted to have breakfast with Fred.

Fred is the commercial manager of the project. During all my stay, he backed me. Especially when I had trouble in getting a social security number, he took a lot of time to help me. He loves France where he has friends, and we used to talk about it. He had inspected the field all the night long, and he was really tired. But he took the time again, to say farewell.

I strongly believe that the conversation we had this morning was necessary to me. If it had not happened, I would have a distorted view of America. I knew he was a good and intelligent man, and he was full of hope for his country. He was aware of the problems it has, but he said that American people had always overcome their weaknesses. Thanks to people like him (and there are a lot), I will never have a clear cut opinion on America. Thanks to them, I like their country.

Subchapter 8: The Friday lunch

Joe, an engineer, was used to preparing a delicious barbecue every Friday. Everybody gives five dollars and spends one hour talking with the others. We were on Friday; it was my last day. The barbecue was for me the occasion to say goodbye to everybody.

I exchange a few words with each of them, and remembered when we met, or about what we were used to talking about. I knew I would disappear from their life in one day, and it was a strange feeling. They were all old enough to know that everything (bad or good) has an end, and American enough to look further, with no nostalgia. It helped me to enjoy these last moments with them.

Subchapter 9: Talking

Except photocopying and filing, one of the most important thing I did at the office was talking. I was astonished to see how people were interested in Europe and especially in France. I was almost ashamed of being so critic against their country, when they were so nice with mine.

With some of them, our favorite subject was to share information about our way of life, and to talk about their differences. I can hardly remember all the topics we discussed: sports, education, coffee, tea, politic, eating, measurement systems…

There would be much more to say about the look this stays gave me on the working world. But this is not the subject here. People interested could consult my report about it (unfortunately in French).

The office was for me a place of security, where I had my habits, where I knew the people and easily talked with them. It was the “soft” side of this stay. The working day was physically exhausting, but mentally still. When I left every day at three thirty, I was ready to face the “hard” side, fascinating and terrible: Manhattan.

Part 2: The city of hope and desperation

There are as many different opinions about New York as people who know this city. But everybody agrees on a few things: it is big; it is crazy; and if you read on a shop, that it sells the best bagels (hamburgers, ice-creams, etc.) of New York, run as far as you can!

Chapter 4: Like a worm in a Big Apple

Subchapter 10: I was walking down the streets (day)

I love walking in a city. This is my way to discover it. I found that New York had from far the best side walkers I had ever treaded. First you see where you go (most of the streets are perfectly straight), second you can measure your advancement (the name of the streets are numbers). Because I hated the subway (too hot when waiting for it, too cold in the wagons, too dirty and not practical enough), I made most of my trips in Manhattan by foot.

During the first weeks, I discovered my quarter. I was lived at the corner of the 30^th street and the 3^rd avenue. This quarter is called Murray Hill. It is not really interesting. There are middle-size buildings and a lot of delis. Not far, is the 34^th street, and at the corner of it and the 5^th avenue, proudly stands the Empire State Building.

From there you can walk the 5^th avenue to Central Park. This avenue is very touristy and near the park, there are a lot of rich shops and towers (Rockefeller Center, Trump tower). You are now west from Central Park. The nice quarter. Here can you find expensive accommodations and restaurants. But if we keep on following the fifth avenue, we are on the museum mile. In the Metropolitan Museum of Art I reconciled with Van Gogh and scanned middle-age French illuminations. In the strange architecture of the Guggenheim Museum, I walk up a spiral through the history of surrealism. Most of the paintings were of French or German origin. Europe talked to me through its most intelligent madness.

But let us go out and cross the park. In the same logic (a gigantic square), Central Park is here to remind that nature exists. One day a friend and I imagined how the New Yorker would be without it. He thought they would be dead, like a body, which could not breathe. Maybe dead, for the less terribly sad. In the park one walks, runs or skates. There are free concerts and happenings. In the middle, the big Reservoir is the only place on the ground of Manhattan where you can realize how big it is. During a few minutes, in the middle of the green, it is not oppression anymore. Just your home.

On the other side, if we walk down the 8^th avenue we meet Broadway at the southwest corner of the park. Walking down Broadway, we find Time Square and its gloomy lights. Broadway is the only street of this part of the town which is not parallel to the others. I think that is why there are so many interesting places on it. Especially when it crosses the avenues. For example, one of the funniest buildings, the Iron Flat, is at the crossroad of Broadway and the 5^th avenue.

We are not very far from my apartment.

Subchapter 11: I rested in the apartment

I rented a room in the apartment of a thirty-five years old woman. Her name was Barbara and she worked in an advertising agency. She was very nice with me and we used to talk a lot together. She was used to giving me a lot of information on the city and what to see in it. She lived in that quarter since she was born.

Of course, there are a lot of differences in the way of life between American and French people. We used to eat quickly in the kitchen. She was fascinated by the fact that I was able to cook. I am not sure I am a great cooker, but regarding to what she used to do it was certainly amazing. Sometimes we were going out to cinema or restaurants.

When she woke up the first thing she did was to turn on the TV. I had not lived with a TV for three years. I spent a little time watching it when I was there. My favorite channels were the cartoons and the music ones. I saw some movies too.

My favorite place in the apartment was the fire escape. It is a kind of steel balcony, which is typical of the American cities. I spent hours reading and watching in the third avenue. Sometimes I spoke with other inhabitants of the building who were doing the same.

Subchapter 12: I was walking down the streets (night)

In the middle of my stay, I saw the posthumous film of Stanley Kubrick: Eyes wide shut. I read a critic about it which was saying that it gave to New York (where the action takes place) a spirit of Vienna. Effectively, it changes a little my look on the city, especially by night. In the movie, Tom Cruise is often walking by night along the desperately straight streets. So did I often.

Instead of going back to the apartment, we could have go to the South. Little by little, the map becomes less regular. If we want to change of continent we can go to little Italy, or, more different, to its conquering neighbor, Chinatown. Here, everything is written in Chinese, even the names of the streets. But, lazy, we could also take the subway to the financial district and the extreme South of Manhattan. In the daytime, we would see from there the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island where the immigrants were waiting for the entering in the promise land. For me they are two faces of the same dream.

But it is night now, let us go east to Tribeca and then Soho. I love Soho. The spirit is really different there. The buildings are shorter and there are a lot of little crazy shops and galleries. In the northeast of Soho, we find Greenwich Village, the gay quarter. I ate there in a very strange restaurant called Jekyll and Hyde, related to the book of Stevenson. In addition to the waiters, there were people paid just to insult and scare the clients!

It is late; let us go back to Murray Hill. One of the most surprising thing for an inhabitant of Paris is how you feel secure in New York. The actual mayor, Rudolph Guliani, sensitively increased the number of policemen during the last years. Even in the middle of the night, you never feel in danger in the south half of Manhattan.

Chapter 5: Disgusted

Lyricism has one end. New York is a big city and has dark sides. What shocked me was the feeling of acceptation as well among the winners as among the loosers.

Subchapter 13: Bread and games

I don’t think that some people or some civilization are better than the other. They are different. They are different because they are choosing different ways. And I think that the main direction followed in New York is dangerous. Everybody wants to transform the other into a consumer. This has two consequences : first, your success is deeply influenced by what you were when you entered the game. Because of the dream of the easy and quick success, everybody plays however this game. It is like a big lottery. When you win it is the jackpot, but most of the time you pay more than you get. The second consequence is that everybody has interest in the stupidity of the other, because he is easier to convince. So people become buying-machine, optimized for the production of money. This make that the culture is confiscated by a cynical elite.

For example you have to pay for an education. In Queens, I met a young worker, Nathan, who was working in order to pay for his studies. He told that he was working one and half year and studying six months. He was fed up with this rhythm and wanted to give up with school. Of course, it is possible to succeed for a poor man. But with such efforts! Maybe Nathan was not the best, but is it a reason to have no chance ?

The mind emptied by an incessant advertising, fascinated by the television and obsessed by eating, some much people gave me the confirmation that the best way to govern is to remind the roman sentence : bread and games

Subchapter 14: The transparent people

What I exposed above is just a try to put in order my thoughts ; I know I am young and maybe, latter, my mind could change about these subjects. But I am sure of something : I will never accept the way some people are seen. Not treated (it is a democracy !), but seen by the other.

In the restaurants there are two type of waiters. With the first (white or black people) you talk, you order, you pay a tip ; they bring you the meals. The second (Hispanic or Indian people) does not exist ; they take the dirty plates and speak almost no English. Nobody talk to them. I used to tell them “ thank you ! ” or “ Sorry ! ”, and people with who I was were really surprised : “ Why are you talking to them ? They don’t understand !”.

One does not speak English with them because they do not understand it or they do not understand English because nobody talk to them ? Another funny reasoning of this type was what people of Manhattan used to say after I had told them that I was working in Queens : “ Queens ? There are only Blacks and Hispanics in it. It is really dirty ! ”. Effectively, I noticed that most of the people were Blacks and Hispanics, and that it was very dirty : cans and papers everywhere on the ground, almost destroyed sidewalks... But something in me refused to make the link. And after one week, I understand the explanation, that I find quite representative of how it works in this society : there are no public wastebaskets in the area where I was. In Manhattan, there is one at every corner. And although I am white, after looking a few minutes for a wastebasket, I threw cans and papers in the gutter, like the others.

Near some of the nicest buildings of Manhattan (at the level of the 55^th street), some sidewalks are in marble.

Subchapter 15: Karatanga

I hesited long before I decided to tell the story of Karatanga. It shows how limited was my point of view and that I was not conscious of a lot of things. But it also give quite a good idea of how revolted I was and of my will of not turning away my eyes.

At the end of my stay, with some friends we had planned to go to the Statue of Liberty. But when we arrived at the ferry station I was discouraged by all the tourists there were. I did not feel enough courage to spend one day in the middle of the crowd, just to see from a little nearer one of the most famous picture of the world. So I left them, and walk alone through Battery Park, the park at the extreme south of Manhattan.

I was called out by big black guy, eating on a bank. We began to discuss, he proposed me to share a little of his meal, I refused politely. We discussed a few hours in the park, mainly about music and traveling. His name was Karatanga. I told me that loud and proudly, like a war cry. I was surprised by all what he knew about Europe and, for example, Paris. But it was quite sure that he was a bump.

I invited him at the apartment. In the subway we discussed with a guy living in The Bronx. At the apartment we heard music and, seating on the fire escape, keep on talking. But Barbara arrived. She was terribly scared and upset. She threw him out and shouted on me. She told me that the only way to survive in this city was to trust nobody. She told me I was too young. She was right. She told me also that it was easy for me to be generous because my life was not here, I had nothing to lose. She was right too.

I joined Karatanga in the street. I could not leaving him like this. I was sorry for Barbara, but even more for him. I realized how stupid I had been to show this homeless guy an apartment with a normal standard of living. He became more and more strange and aggressive. A few things he said made me realized that he could be really dangerous : he was addicted to crack and attracted by young boys. We were walking eats and he wanted me to stay with him a little, he had not spoken with someone for weeks. When we arrived at the crowed 5^th avenue, I suddenly stop and told him that I wanted to go back at the apartment, I preferred that we left each other with the remember of this nice morning and not with me under pressure. He accepted it good. We shook hands and he disappeared in the crowd.

I will never know if he was really dangerous or not. I think he was, but that he really enjoyed the fact that I was not scared of him. In any case, I had been totally stupid. After this, I was really fed up with both New York and the will I had to see the most I could, especially the worst.

I was tired.

Chapter 6: New York under the sun

I was in these states of mind, but during the last two weeks (my last working week and a week of vacation), a ray of sun came from France with her new look and knowing that she would stay a short time. This was for me the occasion to see another face of New York, because I did not want to show all the day long the dark one.

Subchapter 16: The best part of America

We walked again some quarters where I already was, going directly to the funny stuff. We had a party on the top of one of the Twin Towers. They are for me a great esthetic success. Because they are two, they are not crushing you under a stupidly proud height, but they give a balance to the Empire State Building. From the Queens the skyline is sumptuous because of this equilibrium : the big one and the two biggest.

One evening, in Tribeca, we met in a street a student of my school, with who I had never told before. He invited us the next day to lunch with other French people in a loft he was sharing in Soho. This lunch was really interesting because I shared a lot of impressions with other young people which had the same culture as me. Remind that during at least five weeks, the only French words I heard was those I told to myself or those I heard on a CD of Jacques Brel, which I had taken with me !

The same evening we went to a blues concert, in a little club. For a few months I was interested in this music, but this night was a revelation. There were a guitarist-singer, a pianist and a drummer. Two were black, one was white. They were very good. We found a place on the first rank of tables. One time, the guitarist made me light up his cigarette while playing !

At the end, I went to him and told him what I was thinking for a moment :

“ - I come from abroad...

- Oh ! From where ?

- France.

- I love France. I was there last month. ” He told me a little about France and then I spoke again :

- As I told you, I come from abroad, and I wanted to tell you that you are for me the best part of America. The best it produced. ”

Of course, I was thinking also of Natasha and Nathan, of the feeling of humiliation they had. The musician looked at me strangely and simply said :

“ - Thank you !

- It ‘s me who have to thank you ! ” answered I and I left him.

My friends wanted an autograph from him. I had no paper only a box of Dunhill International Light that you cannot find in France and which are white and big. I came back to him and he wrote on it : “ Thank you very much ” and then his signature. A great moment.

Subchapter 17: Boston

We took three days to go to Boston. I wanted to meet a scientist of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology who was working on subjects which interested me and I got in touch with him through the Internet. It was a good occasion to visit one of the oldest town of America.

After six weeks in New York, Boston was like a big breathe. This is more still. You have the feeling that people take the time to live. We wandered in the city, discovered the old quarters, Little Italy and Chinatown. We offered ourselves a delicious seafood dinner. I realize there how New York was different from other part of America (as Boston is , and Little Rocks, and San Francisco, etc.).

I went to the MIT. It is like a town, with its building, its streets, its restaurants, its own police. The scientist had long gray hair and wore a jeans short. He invited me to lunch and we discussed long about Sciences and also my impressions about America. He showed me a new type of computers he had built. I was in the Artificial Intelligence Laboratory of the MIT, maybe one of the point in the world where the human science has went the furthest.

Subchapter 18: The last night, in a church

Back in New York, we had just a few days left. Little by little, I realized that I would be back in Paris. During most of my stay, I had the amazing feeling that I had always lived in New York, for bad or good. Now I was terribly missing my city.

We had decided to go out for the last night. A lot of people had told us that the Lime Light was a great disco. So went there with some French friends. In fact in was a former church, and this night was a gay party. Some of my friends are gay, so I am not shocked by them. However, I recognize that it was a really strange night. Most of the guys were topless and quite crazy. The techno music was excellent. Around three o’clock in the morning, it began to became more and more difficult for heterosexual people to stay. So we left and had an hamburger in a Mac Donald’s.

The others were quite shocked to have seen this in a church. Although I was one of the only Christian, I was not. In France, I would have been shocked, because I would have know that behind doing a disco in a church there would have been a will to fight the Christian symbols. In New York, they do not care at all, for them nothing has a real value, except the value in money. So everything can be a matter of fun, or advertising, the only moral is that it has to work. That was not an aggression against me : they could as well have done this in a mosque or in a former building of a socialist syndicate.

The day after, I was in the plane. They were some French magazine, and in the Nouvel Observateur (a left oriented magazine) there was an article saying that France should take example on USA for a lot of things like economy or even social progress ! Everybody was sleeping in the plane, and I was laughing. I was fed up with revolt and happy to find France again, just irony was left without the anger.

Part 3: The third world war is cultural

Back in France, I thought about how I would see the United States now. My conclusion is that we are now in a (kind of) world war. It is not economical as some people say it. Speaking of an economical war make no sense. Or every economical relationship is a war. The only difference now is that instead of “ fighting ” (that means being in concurrence) with people from our country, we are doing it with the whole world. Like in Middle Age we were in concurrence with people from the same region.

Chapter 7: The new way of conquest

Every leading power have the will to expand its power. Until now the conquest were made through weapons and war. But this way of conquest is not really interesting : one destroys the things and the people that one wants to get. And more and more people (even among the elite) are not accepting anymore to kill people.

The United States have found another way of conquest : they are transforming the other culture into their. So, maybe the size of the country does not grow, but the real power always does. The way it is done is always by applying the principle of “ bread and games ”.

In fact, it is false to say that this idea is new. Two thousand years ago, the Roman empire acquire such a power by doing the same. But because of technological reasons (essentially the communications) it was limited by borders, and could not transform the barbarian into roman as it did with Gallia for example. I find this comparisons between the actual United States and the Roman empire quite interesting : bread and games, will of cultural domination, a language spoken everywhere. Before I left France, someone asked me why I wanted so much to go to New York, I answered that two thousand years ago I would have go to Roma.

Chapter 8: I love America

The title of this chapter is not ironical. As you read it above, I really enjoyed my stay in New York. There are also a lot of things that I love in America, and on which European should take example. Maybe they discuss less but they act more. Their optimism is a gift that they gave to the rest of the world, and everybody took a great advantage of some of their realizations.

This comes from the fact that they always feel as a new country. What is new is pure. They do not wear the burden of millenniums of war and useless hates. That gives them a tremendous good-consciousness, which allows them to always proudly go forward.

What desperate me is that this energy is devoted to the acculturation of the people, which leads to their dehumanization. It could be the contrary, if America had taken from Europe its variety, instead of its cynicism.

Chapter 9: Young boy from an older continent

Knowing this, how should European react? I do not think that the domination of USA will last forever, because no domination last forever. So European (and all the other great cultures of the world : Arabic, Indian, Chinese....) have to wait until the will of uniformization will have shown its limits and its danger, and protect their values and knowledge until a time of renaissance and, I hope it, of peace and true tolerance.

Let us end on this notion of tolerance. I have often heard that America was the land of tolerance. But what I noticed was more often indifference than tolerance. For example, in Manhattan, you can see people from everywhere on earth. And they live and work together without problem. But in the restaurants, they stay with those who like them. The “ affirmative action ” forces the media too show all the “ ethnic groups ”, but when you talk with people (not only the white ones) the word “ race ” come in so many explanations.

My continent is old and tired. He made among the most horrifying things ever done, but, maybe because of its contradictions, I believe in it more that in a future where everybody would have the same empty eyes, the same will to sell its soul if it is profitable.

Conclusion

I would have much more to say about these seven weeks in New York, but I hope that this is enough to explain my general feelings and thoughts about it.

Maybe the way I chose to do it, could seem surprising, but it is the most honest I found. Between lyricism and cold noticing, he reflects a step I passed in my maturity.