lundi 28 novembre 2011

Chapter 120: closing the door

Right, I thought I'd take a few minutes for this. Since things have been moving fast lately, I haven't been able to talk about my travels much in this blog. As a notebook full of thoughts and observations, I quite like it. But I have the feeling that it's not really useful anymore, so I'll just close this blog for good, instead of writing something in it once every three months. I prefer to scratch paper when I have the opportunity, and I have a couple of other blogs going on for Willamette University students. As for personal dreams and thoughts, fiction writings and others, they're still here, and maybe the best thing to do is to stop using the blog as an excuse not to make them bigger, not to dedicate more time to them than it takes for just one article. So I'll see you all soon. ;)

samedi 27 août 2011

A Penny for Your Thoughts

Sometimes I find that text makes you see and feel things more accurately than pictures, because I make you see it through my eyes and mind, my heart and soul, and through the stardust we're all made of. Sometimes I find that pictures lose the magic of the moment, and that only the magic of words can work to bring it back. Do you?

vendredi 26 août 2011

Oh, The Places You'll Go !

Oh, The Places You'll Go ! Take my hand, and I'll show you a place where skeletons play the saxophone ! I'll take you to the sea-shore, where we'll watch mountains disappear, travelling to imaginary lands between the ocean and the fog. Together, we'll climb the never-ending sand-dunes that eat your feet away and burn your skin, until you make it to the top, and there - oh, there ! - you will see the world at your feet, like a map ready to be marked, like a patchwork of fantastic lands and unknown territories. You'll blend its colors together, and you'll take your hiking gear and create your own path. What a beautiful, dangerous, inspiring, intense path it will be !

Oh, The Things You Will See ! The dozens of dolphins playing around the submarine, the rainbow flags dancing together in a hidden meadow, the cougar roaming in the local park, the dancing bearcat and the curious puppy, the sunset deer at the fork in the woods, the vanilla swirl, the real Lucius Malfoy, the welcome of the chaplain, the buffalos all around, the ghost in the mirror, the sky so wide above the clock tower, and the candles floating on the river !

Oh, The People You'll Meet ! Dozens of escapees from Alcatraz reaching the shore under your eyes, one grumpy man on the Golden Gate Bridge, one ever-happy librarian, one character from a show you like and a fake doppelganger! Just go on, go on, and on your journey you'll also find the evil Master of Campus Life, the excited and fragile freshmen, the little girl shouting "I win! I win! I win!" and the magic of dancing!

And this is just the beginning, but all of these are already there for you, for your eyes and for your mind, for your heart and for your soul, all in one place at the same exact time on the same precise date, so welcome everyone, welcome to Willamette University...

vendredi 19 août 2011

Singing in the Wind

San Francisco se lève... En fait, San Francisco se coucherait maintenant, si San Francisco était du genre à se coucher la nuit. Les néons flashent, la culture beatnik est tout autour, Chinatown est à deux pas, et la capitale LGBT mondiale à trois pas et demi. Beaucoup de choses à raconter, à présenter, à découvrir, et j'essaierai de ne rien oublier quand je m'installerai à mon ordinateur dans une petite semaine pour mieux contribuer à ce blog. En attendant, je me remplis la tête de trésors de vie.

En entrée ("appetizer"), une anecdote bostonienne. Attente à un feu, pour traverser, près du port et de Columbus Parc, soudain une voix s'élève, c'est une jeune femme qui chante. Dans la foule en face, une deuxième voix lui répond, reprenant à l'unisson la même chanson. Puis, quand le feu passe au vert et que je traverse la route, ce sont une trentaine de personnes, un peu partout dans la foule qui traverse à mes côtés ou en face de moi, qui chantent "We Are The World". Pendant deux minutes trente, ma vie était devenue une comédie musicale.

samedi 6 août 2011

The Golden Thread

Come again, ladies and gentlemen, please come on board, don’t be shy. A new epic adventure, maybe, lots of hidden treasures to discover, hopefully humor and wit along the way, hope looming on the horizon, come and walk under the radiant sun of a new continent and meet a new ocean of souls! Come and meet the immigration officer who was unlucky enough to fall in love, the paranoid policeman, the bus driver who is also a superhero – Superbus -, the crazy talented artists of Berklee school music, the hipsters hanging out in the streets, the barrel-bellied guys with golden chains, and John the burger grinder!


Come and meet the swinging kids for whom life is a permanent rocking boat, the lovers kissing in the grass next to the squirrel-hunter, the starling who was scared of pigeons, please step forward but be careful! For here comes the man with eyes so blue you could fall in, and once you do, there’s no hope left. He has a big black bag, the size of his dreams, to carry around his blueberry dollars – oh, he loves blueberries, and he’ll tell you his dreams are larger and not as dark as the bag, so help him out, give him a couple bucks, or at least a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen!


Follow us, and meet Shakespeare in the park, meditating on virginity with his back turned on the giant swans hovering above the lake! See the boy who juggles with swords and chose the wrong shorts to climb on your shoulder, and that other boy, the one who’s so handsome that the girls stop and follow him in the streets, completely bewitched by his looks. Come and get bewitched by the marvels of traveling, run across the corridors of a shop in ruins while Amy Winehouse whispers to your ears that she said “no, no, no”… Or just dance in the streets among a thousand flags and colors, meet the smiles of Boston, so different in summer, dive in 3D and get a bite of a barking crab.


Take one more step forward, ladies and gentlemen, and hear your own language spoken with an accent that makes it utterly impossible to understand (“méouskelèmapotadin?”), meet people you could have met before (“what were you doing in Muar?”), find Dobby in the museum at Harvard, listen to Averell Dalton singing about the South, discover a land where wearing Tom Selleck’s moustache is fashionable, enjoy the sad songs of a mariachi at dusk and the happy tones of a one-man band under the afternoon sun. Are you still with us, ladies and gentlemen? Then put your seatbelts on, because we’re only just starting.

dimanche 24 juillet 2011

Coucou

Rien de spécial à dire, si ce n'est que le départ approche à nouveau. C'est le calme avant la tempête, et je préfère courir dans les aéroports plutôt qu'attendre sur ma chaise que l'heure arrive. My room's cleaned, it looks empty, the guitar has been tucked away behind the shelves, and a hundred of old books are now perched at the top of my wardrobe, also waiting for days and months and years to pass. Maybe we're all floatsam and jetsam swirling in the storm of Time. Strong currents are always more interesting, even though more dangerous. I'm curious to see what will happen in the maelstrom coming ahead, curious also about which way I'll get out of that maelstrom, in about 10 months. En attendant, je vais juste essayer de regarder la fin de Fragments, Torchwood. ;)

jeudi 23 juin 2011

Premières perspectives de vote?

Réaction à chaud après avoir regardé le premier épisode de l'émission de France 2, "Des Paroles et des Actes". D'abord, un gros point d'interrogation. L'émission est à moins d'un an de l'élection présidentielle, on lance plus ou moins la campagne, même si elle devrait démarrer véritablement à l'automne, et là, d'un coup, j'ai un gros doute. Ma manière de choisir pour qui je vote est de regarder les débats, qui peuvent jouer dans ma décision en cas d'hésitation, mais surtout de lire tous les programmes, et de choisir ensuite par élimination, sans attention portée au nom du parti auteur du programme. Cette technique, je vais la garder (même en étant à l'étranger, j'aurai les programmes sur le net). Jusqu'à présent, le choix final a toujours été soit Les Verts, soit Europe-Ecologie. Mais là, gros doute: on a parlé de légalisation du cannabis, et je ne suis pas du tout du même avis. Mince. Cela n'empêche pas que mon vote pourrait rester le même, si j'ai de plus gros problèmes avec les programmes des autres partis. Par exemple, proposer un référendum sur la peine de mort est éliminatoire. Mais bon, quand même, ça me réintroduit un peu de suspense dans mes intentions de vote. Thrilling :). Quant à l'émission en elle-même, je regrette Christine Ockrent mais je regarderai tout de même le prochain numéro, si j'arrive à le trouver sur internet. Séquence finale assez intéressante.

mercredi 25 mai 2011

THE Question.

WHY?????????????

jeudi 19 mai 2011

Try and remain silent when you see that...

"Southern trees bear strange fruit
Les arbres du Sud portent un fruit étrange

Blood on the leaves and blood on the root
Du sang sur leurs feuilles et du sang sur leurs racines

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Des corps noirs qui se balancent dans la brise du Sud

Strange fruit hanging from poplar trees
Un fruit étrange suspendu aux peupliers



Pastoral scene of the gallant South
Scène pastorale du vaillant Sud

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
Les yeux révulsés et la bouche déformée

Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh
Le parfum des magnolias doux et printannier

Then the sudden smell of burning flesh
Puis l'odeur soudaine de la chair qui brûle



Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
Voici un fruit que les corbeaux picorent

For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
Que la pluie fait pousser, que le vent assèche

For the sun to ripe, to the tree to drop
Que le soleil fait mûrir, que l'arbre fait tomber

Here is a strange and bitter crop !
Voici une bien étrange et amère récolte !"

Strange fruit, Billie Holiday.

mercredi 18 mai 2011

Movies.

J'ai commencé à rassembler, en vrac, des listes de films francophones potentiellement accessibles pour des étudiants en langue et civilisation française. L'an dernier, ils ont vu Les Bronzés font du ski, Le Fabuleux destin d'Adèle Blanc-Sec, Le Gendarme à New-York et Nos Jours heureux.

Donc, idées en vrac:
-Amélie Poulain
-Tanguy
-Belle et Sébastien
-Azur et Asmar
-Les Ch'tis
-Crin Blanc
-L'Auberge espagnole
-Kirikou
-Les Visiteurs
-Les Jeux Interdits
-L'Ours (plus pour la réalisation)
-Astérix et Cléopâtre (ou contre César)
-Monsieur Batignole
-éventuellement un épisode de Plus Belle La Vie, parce qu'ils articulent bien et ça marche, même si personnellement je n'aime pas
-un vieil épisode de Nounours, de Saturnin ou du Manège enchanté (si c'est français, à vérifier)?
-Joyeux Noël (WW1)
-Paris Je T'Aime
-Persépolis
-Valse avec Bashir
Il me faudrait aussi peut-être des films plus durs, montrant que la France, ce n'est pas seulement les Champs Elysées. Mais les films auxquels je pense pour le moment sont peut-être trop compliqués à saisir. Peut-être aussi, pour le fun, un ou deux policiers. Et il faut que je me renseigne sur ce qui se fait dans d'autres pays francophones. Enfin, ça n'a rien à voir, mais j'ai aussi envie de montrer Boy, le film néo-zélandais.

Au total, je n'arriverai sans doute qu'à montrer un tout petit échantillon de tout cela, mais ça ne fait pas de mal de rêver et de faire des listes en prévision.

Côté musique, il faut que je me refournisse en Yannick Noah. Côté théâtre, voir si je peux couper et arranger Lorenzaccio de manière à le rendre abordable, ou encore si je peux réutiliser le Scapin de l'an dernier...

Comment sortir de la crise...

"You should not expect to earn money during your stay"
"In view of continuing inflation, it is recommended that you bring your own supplementary funds"

Moi, j'avais pas compris ça comme ça.

jeudi 21 avril 2011

Hard Core Feminism ?

What a night ! Do you know that feeling you have when everything seems to be meaningful all of a sudden, like there are too many coincidences for you to keep seeing them as such? And you start thinking there must be some kind of power behind it all, making it all happen? Well, there was a bit of that tonight.

First, the movie. "Sucker Punch" starts with the story of a girl and her younger sister being abused by their father-in-law, probably after he killed their mom. The guy kills the sister and pays a guy at the local asylum to have the other girl lobotomized. That way he can get his wife's inheritance.
Change of scene. The girl is not in an asylum anymore, she's a new recruit in some kind of brothel/show-room, and she's brought there by a priest who looks exactly like the father-in-law in the other story, and probably acted the same way before he brought her there. She meets the other girls, saves one of them from the big fat cook who had trapped her in a corner in the kitchen, makes super-friends with her and friends with the rest. We also meet the owner of the place, and his gorilla-like men of arms. Then, there's the dance teacher, who is a woman but maintains order among the girls (sort of) so as to protect them from masculine violence.
When the heroine dances, she imagines fights against different entities. The first time she dances, she meets a Chinese master who looks a bit like a mix of Clint Eastwood, Harrison Ford and John Malkovitch (maybe it was one of them?), and who tells her that in order to gain her freedom she'll need a map, some fire, a knife, a key and a sacrifice. Then, three big samurai-like monsters come in, and she kills them one by one, improving on the way she takes blows and on the way she avoids them as the fight continues. First message: guys will try to hurt you and it will hurt, but the more blows you receive, the less you'll feel them and in the end you'll be the one who kills them.
End of the dance, back to the cabaret-brothel-whatever. The girl explains the others that she wants to escape, and she tells them that they will need a map, fire, a knife and a key. Now, symbolically, I'd say the map stands for "knowing where you are". The fire is for "having a spark in you, a strong will". The knife is either the actual weapon or the scar given to you that will make you want to go till the end. The key is getting into action. The sacrifice is the idea that your action of resistance (to the masculine tyranny?) is worth more than yourself.
The super-friend's sister is reluctant, but she'll take part in the thing so as to be able to protect her sister. There's that nice line at one point: "so you decide to follow her, even though you've just met her, and you're leaving me behind after all I've done for you?" And because of that line, I don't think they were actually sisters. Unless they were "sisters" and in that case it all makes sense.
Anyway, back to the evil men. The owner of the place has a map, which they have to steal. To distract everyone, the new recruit starts dancing and imagines a second fight. Oh, before that, it's also quite significant I think that these oppressed girls are only called "Baby Doll", "Sweet Pea", "Blondie", "Amber" and "Rocket" all along. They've been labelled and these names have most likely been given to them by guys. Rocket is the super-friend, Baby Doll is the heroine, Sweet Pea is the sister. Blondie and Amber are the other two, less important on the whole (and the only dark-haired ones, strangely).
The second fight takes place during WW2, except that the Nazis are zombies and the girls have a big robot with a pink rabbit painted on it. Clint-Harrison-John speaks to them at the beginning, saying that they should not worry about killing the guys in front of them, because they're already dead inside. No redemption for men. He keeps calling the girls "ladies". It's interesting that the only guy who is not a jerk (or worse) in this movie is mostly part of a fantasy. He's the only one who does not have an equivalent in the cabaret-maison close thing, or in the asylum. Well, in short, they kill the zombies (who do not fight fair) and take the map.
Enters the Mayor, a big fat old man with a cigare who likes to have a half-dressed girl on his knees and another one on stage in front of him. Baby Doll goes on stage and distracts him while Amber tries to steal his lighter (fire!).
Third fight. Clint tells the ladies to remember never to sign up for anything as long they don't feel like they are ready (= forced wedding, forced relationship...) and describes the new mission. They have to get to the center of a sort of castle-volcano, find a baby dragon, slit its throat and get two stones from inside it, and that will give them back the greatest fire ever. They have to be careful not to wake the mom of the dragon. On the whole, the thing seems to describe an abortion. Get inside the warmest point of the volcano (which looked a lot like the place where Sam tells Frodo to drop the ring), kill the baby and get your life back. Outside, hords of anti-abortion orcs are demonstrating, and inside, a huge dragon-like mother-figure (conservative moms? motherly instincts?) tries to kill the girls, but is slain in the end, after collapsing into Hogwarts's bridge at one point.
Fourth fight: the knife. The girls try to distract the big fat cook to steal his knife (a Marxist point maybe: males have all the means of production and of escape -except imagination and stories, aka the power to make movies to tell people the truth). Baby Doll starts dancing, and Clint is back in her imagination. This time, he's in a helicopter and reminds the ladies that some things are worth fighting and dying for, and that if they don't do anything, they'll still be oppressed and nothing will change. Their mission will be to steal a bomb from a train before it reaches the city. This time, the enemies are faceless robots. So the fight will be against Society and Opinions, this time (city and impersonal things). Quite meaningful that the one who loses her life is the short-haired super-friend (society's intolerance of strong-willed women, and perhaps of lesbians, kills them: "the cook" doesn't have a name, he only has a social function, and he's the one who kills her in real life with his knife). Before she dies, she tells her sister to give her love to their mom. The dad is completely omitted, which leads me to think that he must have abused her as well.
Fifth fight: the owner of the place has found out everything about the plan of escape, and kills the two dark-haired girls and tries to rape Baby Doll, who takes a knife and injures him. She and Sweet Pea escape until they reach the gate. A dozen of guys are chatting in front of it. Time for a sacrifice: Baby Doll tells Sweet Pea that it is her story after all, that she fights so that people like her can go home and live normally. Baby Doll walks towards the men, who start asking where she thinks she's going. She kicks one in between his legs, and he punches her in the face.
Next scene, we're in the asylum and we see her getting lobotomized (which is a kind of brain-rape if you think about it, performed by a man who doesn't know what he's doing because he just follows the procedure he's been taught and the order he's been given = some men who uphold a society in which girls are metaphorically lobotomized just do so because they don't know what they are doing, which is a redeeming point). When the "doctor" realizes his orders were falsified by a guy in the asylum who abuses lobotomized girls (once again, very significant: if girls are taught to remain passive, guys will take advantage), he tells the director of the asylum, who is a woman and tells the cops to arrest the abuser.
Last scene: Sweet Pea tries to escape by bus, and is arrested by two mean-looking cops before getting in the bus. But the bus driver is Clint, and he saves her by telling the cops he knows her and she can't be the one they're looking for. The narrator (a feminine voice), then tells the audience about the power of stories, which is efficient only if we, the audience, react to it and fight for a cause.
So frankly, after going out of that movie, even I was looking suspiciously at the guys in the subway. I don't know if it was the right way to go about the problem. It's actually the same thing that troubled me with The L Word: guys are only portrayed as jerks (except for Clint, but he's more of a paternal figure). The message seems not to be to fight together for something, but just to fight against men. How do you want anyone to trust guys after that? Such shows tend to make me distrust myself and feel guilty for being a guy. It's good to warn people about such things, because they do exist, but not in a "us vs them" way, I think. Same for the abortion thing. I support that right, but don't show the girls killing a baby, even if it's a baby dragon. That's not what it is, and that wouldn't be efficient anyway. But maybe my interpretation is all wrong and it was just a dumb action movie...
What struck me on the way back was the music that my MP3 gave me to listen. One song was "All The Things She Said" by the band "Tatu", and the other one was "A Ma Place", by Axel Bauer and Zazie, with the line "Je Veux Bien Etre Reine, Mais Pas L'Ombre Du Roi". So yeah, gender studies-oriented evening. And when I get home, the TV declares that brothels and show-rooms in Spain and in the South of France are undergoing changes in the number (increasing) and gender (more women) of their clients. Weird night.

jeudi 14 avril 2011

Coconut Story, Episode 1

J'ai hésité à poster ce qui suit ici, parce que je n'ai prêté aucune attention au style. J'ai chez moi un carnet dans lequel je gribouille quelques mots ou quelques dessins quand l'envie me vient. Et quand j'étais à Boston, j'ai remarqué que le carnet était bien triste, tant dans les dessins que dans les textes, plus sombres que ce que je voulais faire il y a quelques années. Donc j'ai écrit une petite histoire, au départ dédiée au carnet :


What if this book were found some day by a pair of curious eyes? Should it be so sad and pessimistic? Don't be sad, little book. Here's a story to cheer you up.


Once upon a time, in a far, far away island, there lived a coconut who wanted to fly. She had grown up among the birds, you see, halfway between the sky and the earth, and for a few weeks she'd been convinced that she was a bird. Silly thing, some people would say. But you and I know better than that. For the coconut was far from being silly. She was funny, sometimes, but we all have our funny moments, and it's a good thing. Can you imagine being serious all the time? I can't. Anyway, back to the story.


One day, a violent storm came from the sea and ravaged most of the island. People were very unhappy, and several animals had to change homes after their nests were taken away by the wind, or after their burrows were crushed by some falling tree. Luckily, there were very few serious casualties among them. That day, however, our little coconut lost most of her brothers and sisters. As they all swung together, one by one they were detached from their tree by the playful wind, and went rolling away in the sand or swimming with bands of silver fish in the agitated sea. But Little Coconut held on, and when the storm was over, she was all alone on her tall coconut tree. And all that time, she had been watching at the clouds dancing in the sky, so when she realized that her brothers and sisters were gone, what do you think her first thought was? Of course, they had flown away! If coconuts were supposed to fly, what better opportunity would there be than a very strong wind to lift you away, and there you would be, tasting the ultimate freedom of the birds and the clouds, at last! The truth must be said, Little Coconut sighed a lot that day. She had been staring at the sky, as always, when she could have become a part of it, like her brothers and sisters. Her only consolation was the memory of what she had seen. The mighty dance of the clouds, the most beautiful and powerful painting ever. It raised her heart in that difficult moment, and she took the bravest resolution she had ever taken so far: next time the winds would rise, she would take her flight like her sisters and brothers before her. Yes, she would.


Except that no strong wind came ever again. Or at least, not in time for Little Coconut to be able to test her wings. For you see, there is a time in a coconut’s life – and actually in anyone’s life, including yours and mine – when she cannot stay any longer halfway between earth and sky, and, whether she wants it or not, she has to come closer to the ground, and see the reality from another point of view. It generally isn’t a pleasant experience, and it certainly wasn’t for Little Coconut.


She was fast asleep, and the moon was shining over the ocean, making the leaves of the palm trees shimmer softly. Imagine sleeping in such a place, with the sounds of the waves as your lullaby and the wind swinging you softly like a gentle cradle. This was all that Little Coconut had known, all her life, and it had been so sweet! But on that night, destiny decided that Little Coconut was not that “little” anymore: it was time for her to join her brothers and sisters, and to start a new life for herself.


Suddenly, she was not linked to her tree anymore! As she started falling, she woke up and thought something had gotten really wrong indeed. Where were her wings? Why wasn’t she going up, towards the moon? Almost without a noise, she hit the ground and started rolling and rolling in the sand, hurting pebbles and roots on her way.

lundi 4 avril 2011

Adrenaline, Colors and a Little Bit of Dream


On that new blog I've started, I was asked a question about my earliest memory. It got me thinking about past, present and future, which is something I do more often now that I share my time between a history dissertation and watching old episodes of a series about a man who travels in Time. The point is, I found out that thinking about the past was a bit sad, but that one needed to think about it a little bit to be stronger in the present. Like I wrote on the other blog, the past is a bit like a dangerous mirror. You can get sucked into it if you watch it too often, but you also need to check on it from time to time. The past is the realm of facts, of data, of dead things and people who become numbers and letters, and of emotions you can't do much about. Things that you wish you could change, but that you cannot change. Damn, could that be a reason for the success of DW? Dreaming about going backwards in Time and changing things... Hmmm. Anyway, it also got me thinking that one needs more than just facts and lost emotions. You need adrenaline, colors and a little bit of dream. I like children's literature, and I haven't read anything in months. And I've just gotten why kids need to believe in Santa, or Prince Charming, or Princess Charming, or Neverland... Everyone needs to believe in those. We need magic, and I don't want everything explained to me. Without belief, you wither so easily. Today, I tried to clean my email box, and I started reading emails from a time I've been nostalgic of. I don't exactly know what made me nostalgic of that year, more than any other. It seemed to be quite surreal, and full of mysteries. Probably a bit too difficult to grasp in the end, but so full. Reading those emails again makes them appear under a new light. It's like dramatic irony unveiled, or just amazement at how things have changed since then. I don't want to go back to that time, but the mirror of the past is tempting. I think what keeps you moving on is the feeling that there is still some mystery ahead. If you think you've seen it all, that the road leads nowhere or that it's a full circle, what's the point of walking on and on? Life's a branch with many ramifications, but you have to think that you won't fall when you get to the end of the twig. You can fly, you can jump to another branch. I wonder what it feels like to find a flower at the end of your branch. You could use one of its petals to fly and travel to the next tree. And go with the wind, eyes wide open...

jeudi 31 mars 2011

New Blog!

Spring has arrived, and a new blog has blossomed at tepukapuka.tumblr.com ! It is still mostly empty, but it's full of promises and I hope to make it live a little. I'll still write on this blog every so often, probably bothering you with some Doctor Who considerations and personal reflexions, so stay tuned!

dimanche 13 mars 2011

Boston

Deux inconnus, Matt Smith et sa copine Julie nous ont offert des shots de tequila l'autre soir. Experience interessante. J'ai recommence a ecrire, sans prise de tete. Style "childrens' story", qui est le seul en ce moment qui ne verse pas dans quelque chose de sombre et, pour tout dire, barbant. J'ai lu une partie de l'intro de "Boxen", le recueil des histoires ecrites par Lewis enfant, une pause rafraichissante au milieu des livres sur la seconde guerre mondiale que j'avale en ce moment. Je reprends l'avion mercredi, avec des sentiments mitiges a ce sujet. Un peu d'apprehension aussi par rapport a l'an prochain, puisque les Etats-Unis me semblent de plus en plus etrangers, a chaque visite. Mais je n'ai vu que des "city centers" du nord-est jusqu'a present. Ailleurs est peut-etre different. Ce sera une aventure bien differente par rapport a la Nouvelle-Zelande, quoiqu'il en soit. Plan pour aujourd'hui: marche jusqu'a Charles Street, North End, et Long Wharf.