Je n'arrive pas a me rappeler pourquoi j'ai decide de m'infliger ca... Je me savais legerement asociale (si, si) mais la, je cale. Decidement les States c'est un beau pays mais de la a frayer avec ses habitants, non, merci, non. Faut dire que Harlem ou une journee dans les entrailles Amtrak, ce n'est pas fait pour vous reconcilier avec le genre humain. Deux exemples, mon logeur bien sympa s'est soudain transforme en un precheur/penche a droite des que nous avons eu une conversation un peu socio-politique (ne jamais parler politique avec des strangers mais c'est lui qui a commence). Du coup j'ai fui. Une fois dans le train, je me suis retrouvee coincee derriere une famille de bons zamericains, le pere, la mere et la fille, taille 68. Des blancs middle class bien comme il faut. A cote de moi un tout petit black, max 16 ans, tout maigrichon et qui portait des chaussures taille 45 pour des pieds 41. La sainte famille etait si bruyante, que j'ai du m'eloigner un peu pour pouvoir somnoler (grace d'ailleurs a mes nouveaux amis M. et Mme Quies). Arrives a Johnstontown, un drole de bruit m'a fait me retourner, le petit black remontait l'allee avec trois gros sacs mais surtout, il boitait terriblement. Mes trois cornichons le regardait bouche bee. Lui, il stressait de ne pas arriver a la porte a temps pour sortir. Il a eu l'air a la fois soulage et totalement ahurri que je lui propose de l'aide (z'avez vu de quoi/qui j'ai l'air?). Quand a la jeune fille de bonne famille, elle m'a adresse un sourire gene. Pour elle ou pour moi? Je ne lui ai pas rendu. Asociale, je vous dis.
Bilan newyorkais : 2 super repas, un opera inconnu de Puccini en plein air (vous connaissez, vous, La Fianciulla del West?), un nouvel Ipod, 7 vieilles tapisseries (lisez ou relisez La Dame a la Licorne de Tracy Chevalier) et j'en oublie... Et une seule conversation fun jusqu'a present, avec une Cubaine pleine de sous en brunchant a l'Ecole (merci Simon).
A suivre mes aventures dans le campagne pittsburghienne.
Bisouxxxx a tous.
PS Vous suivez sans les accents?
A day in an Amtrak train could be pleasant I guess, they' re comfortable, but that day was full of non pleasant surprises that made me wonder if I really want to travel and meet people... I know that I'm a little bit asocial but here are 2 stories that made me hate human kind.
It began in the morning when my very nice lodger transformed himself in a far right-right wing preacher when we talked about politics. I know: never talk about politics to strangers, but he began. So I ran away.
Once in the train, I sat behind an average American family, the father, the mother, and the daughter, around 20 years old and not thin. Next to me, I very little and thin black boy, max 16 years old, with very large shoes, actually too big for him. that family was so loud that I moved 4 or 5 ranks to be able to sleep a little (thank to my new friends Mr and Ms Quies-Earplugs).
When we arrived in Johnstontown, a strange noise made me turn and I saw the little black boy trying to reach the door with 3 huge bags but most of all he was disabled and limped badly. The holy trinity was looking at him with opened mouths, not moving. The boy stressed of not arriving at the door on time and he looked completely bewildered (and eased) when I helped him.
The girl was looking at me with an embarrassed smile. Embarrassed for her or for me? I didn't asked. I'm asocial, I told you.
New York summary: 2 great meals, an unknown opera from Puccini in the open air (do you know La Fianciulla del West?), 1 new IPod Touch, 7 very old tapestries (you have to read that wonderful novel from Tracy Chevalier The Lady and The Unicorn, about those)... And only one interesting conversation with a woman from Cuba full of money when brunching at "L'Ecole" in NY.
To be continued...
Bilan newyorkais : 2 super repas, un opera inconnu de Puccini en plein air (vous connaissez, vous, La Fianciulla del West?), un nouvel Ipod, 7 vieilles tapisseries (lisez ou relisez La Dame a la Licorne de Tracy Chevalier) et j'en oublie... Et une seule conversation fun jusqu'a present, avec une Cubaine pleine de sous en brunchant a l'Ecole (merci Simon).
A suivre mes aventures dans le campagne pittsburghienne.
Bisouxxxx a tous.
PS Vous suivez sans les accents?
A day in an Amtrak train could be pleasant I guess, they' re comfortable, but that day was full of non pleasant surprises that made me wonder if I really want to travel and meet people... I know that I'm a little bit asocial but here are 2 stories that made me hate human kind.
It began in the morning when my very nice lodger transformed himself in a far right-right wing preacher when we talked about politics. I know: never talk about politics to strangers, but he began. So I ran away.
Once in the train, I sat behind an average American family, the father, the mother, and the daughter, around 20 years old and not thin. Next to me, I very little and thin black boy, max 16 years old, with very large shoes, actually too big for him. that family was so loud that I moved 4 or 5 ranks to be able to sleep a little (thank to my new friends Mr and Ms Quies-Earplugs).
When we arrived in Johnstontown, a strange noise made me turn and I saw the little black boy trying to reach the door with 3 huge bags but most of all he was disabled and limped badly. The holy trinity was looking at him with opened mouths, not moving. The boy stressed of not arriving at the door on time and he looked completely bewildered (and eased) when I helped him.
The girl was looking at me with an embarrassed smile. Embarrassed for her or for me? I didn't asked. I'm asocial, I told you.
New York summary: 2 great meals, an unknown opera from Puccini in the open air (do you know La Fianciulla del West?), 1 new IPod Touch, 7 very old tapestries (you have to read that wonderful novel from Tracy Chevalier The Lady and The Unicorn, about those)... And only one interesting conversation with a woman from Cuba full of money when brunching at "L'Ecole" in NY.
To be continued...
oui-oui on suis tres tres bien meme sans les accents
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