I’m staying in a house that overlooks the San Francisco bay, with Fort Mason on one side, and the ancient church on the hill at the other side. I don’t know its name yet but I already imagine the life when Spaniards held the city, with galleons arriving to the port, not too much different from today’s – young men with and without prospects hoping to make it, finding loves, families, friendships and finally deaths here, or anywhere in the country. And this is what I want to see when I travel through USA – I want to see them, listen to the stories of their lives.

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