Last night it got pretty late again, first packing all my things. I actually got the bags closed, which I hadn't been so sure of.
Then I went down to the lobby with by laptop to hijack the Starbucks Wi-Fi like everyone else, so I could check my flight back and reserve an airport shuttle.
There I met a girl from Costa Rica and we got talking with each other. We got a beer at the pub on the next block, and so it was 2 am again when I went to bed.
I did rise before sunrise though! Took the subway to Brooklyn and am now standing right in front of the Brooklyn bridge looking towards Manhattan.
Last afternoon it had been Raining pretty badly, but like the weather forecast had said, today is really nice weather!
I looked at lower Manhattan today, starting with wall street. No "occupy" - the cops have closed the whole place and are watching it.
I was touched and very sad looking at the big area where the twin towers stood. I thought about all these folk, nice people like everyone, going to work there, dying there being killed by sick and hateful people. Every one of them unique, their lives ended.
I went to the memorial site, too, where all the names of the killed are engraved on the sides of the fountain pools.
And did this attack achieve anything? Just other wars, the opinion about the Islam further lowered.
The skyscrapers often are built with ancient castles in mind, or actually copying old temples. They are their representation as a symbol of power in our times, the modern cathedrals.
So the destruction of these two towers filled with innocents seemed to me like the razing of some medieval castle in some completely unimportant war, like almost any. But every single man, woman or child is truly dead for this useless and sinful act.
The new One world trade center is already halfway up.
Right now I'm at Liberty island. Had a great view of the Statute and the city on the boat going there. And I felt really privileged to new able to walk these positively historic grounds.
On the base of the statue is a plaque of a poem by a young American woman of the time. I liked it, and so I put the text out here:
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
Emma Lazarus, 1883