August 2001, I land at the JFK airport for a few days in NYC. After ten hours of flight, my body just needed to renew its nicotine levels. One month before the 9/11 and there I was at the big apple.
From the airport, by bus, I went to the Rockefeller Center and the avenues of Manhattan. I just walked through there and I entered the NY Institute of Photography to see for the first time an exhibition by Sebastião Salgado.
All the life stories in those photographies, and I got emotioned as I looked at our world so perfectly captured in his work. One of the photos, showing an African woman running away with an expression of fear, almost naked and having a crucifix hanging from her neck, kept my attention. I commented to someone next to me: “How can she beleive in God when she is living in hell?” Faith, faith was the answer I got. Looking to Africa and so many places in this world, with this exhibition in front of me, I had to ask myself if we really have to have faith or do something for real.
This takes me to the recent ONG scandal, and once again the word faith came to my mind as a question about whom can we believe.
A few days after my arrival and many jazz clubs visited, I went to an underground club where a group of Armenians were going to play french music from the 60s. Brassan, Brel, Leo Ferré and many others from May 1968.
40 years after this revolution that changed the world, the French Prime Minister said that this is a date to forget, to wipe out from our minds, and once again my mind travels to that word – faith –, the need to beleive that sentences like these won't be repeated.
From Bronx to Brooklyn and to Harlem, travelling by subway to everywhere, I could see that all is written in English and Spanish, that NYC is like the society of nations living in “small towns”, and every time I see the news about the North American Army in foreign countries and the flags at the American homes, I see that many of those who died for a permit are Hispanic and Afro-American boys; like in Bruce Springsteen’s “This gun's for hire”, they wanted to reach the American dream.
One month later I left NYC, the Twin Towers were attacked and, I confess, I was emotioned with the terrible situation. A western symbol was destroyed at the main city of the empire and thousands of lives lost. The Bush dinasty drawn the evil line immediately on the maps and, in order to destroy the enemies, they invaded Iraq and Afghanistan. The Bush dinasty is now moving out from the White House and I may question myself about what they left to the world unless that word of faith – faith that fear, corruption, poverty, hunger among people will be our main concern instead of drawing evil lines on maps.
From the airport, by bus, I went to the Rockefeller Center and the avenues of Manhattan. I just walked through there and I entered the NY Institute of Photography to see for the first time an exhibition by Sebastião Salgado.
All the life stories in those photographies, and I got emotioned as I looked at our world so perfectly captured in his work. One of the photos, showing an African woman running away with an expression of fear, almost naked and having a crucifix hanging from her neck, kept my attention. I commented to someone next to me: “How can she beleive in God when she is living in hell?” Faith, faith was the answer I got. Looking to Africa and so many places in this world, with this exhibition in front of me, I had to ask myself if we really have to have faith or do something for real.
This takes me to the recent ONG scandal, and once again the word faith came to my mind as a question about whom can we believe.
A few days after my arrival and many jazz clubs visited, I went to an underground club where a group of Armenians were going to play french music from the 60s. Brassan, Brel, Leo Ferré and many others from May 1968.
40 years after this revolution that changed the world, the French Prime Minister said that this is a date to forget, to wipe out from our minds, and once again my mind travels to that word – faith –, the need to beleive that sentences like these won't be repeated.
From Bronx to Brooklyn and to Harlem, travelling by subway to everywhere, I could see that all is written in English and Spanish, that NYC is like the society of nations living in “small towns”, and every time I see the news about the North American Army in foreign countries and the flags at the American homes, I see that many of those who died for a permit are Hispanic and Afro-American boys; like in Bruce Springsteen’s “This gun's for hire”, they wanted to reach the American dream.
One month later I left NYC, the Twin Towers were attacked and, I confess, I was emotioned with the terrible situation. A western symbol was destroyed at the main city of the empire and thousands of lives lost. The Bush dinasty drawn the evil line immediately on the maps and, in order to destroy the enemies, they invaded Iraq and Afghanistan. The Bush dinasty is now moving out from the White House and I may question myself about what they left to the world unless that word of faith – faith that fear, corruption, poverty, hunger among people will be our main concern instead of drawing evil lines on maps.
Text and Photos by Alfredo Muñoz de Oliveira
