New York: the city of contrasts

New YorkThe city wakes up. The sun filters through the avenues, between the tall skyscrapers that sculpt the city. It seems like everyone is asleep, but bodies are moving. Most have already left their homes to get to work. Little by little, the city gets moving and the cafes fill with people: there are those who buy and those who serve.

New York accelerates. The streets become congested with people, cars, taxis, buses, and sirens. The subway is packed. Everyone takes up their position: at their workstation. The doorman opens the door and nods, standing all day without sitting. The hours pass and he, motionless, gives directions to those looking for directions. And, rain or snow, he will be there, at the foot of a monument. Above, a giant flag waves imposingly, as if he too were part of the symbol.

The city functions as a single organism. A system of asymmetrical mutualism: one social class works, supports, serves, and survives; the other, with fewer numbers but a greater voice, lives comfortably. Both need each other, but one takes advantage.

The avenues are lined with luxury shops with bright, tempting windows. Outside, on the street, it's cold; you can see people's faces and little else. They crowd in front of the windows, looking at clothes, jewelry, and shoes, and discussing what they would buy, if they could. Inside the store, it's warm. The saleswomen stand waiting for customers to arrive. The goalkeeper watches the scene and smiles wearily.

Lunchtime arrives, and the contrast becomes even more evident. There's food on every corner, sold at stalls covered in signs. You have to eat standing up, sitting on the steps.

Luxury and work coexist, but they don't interact. Everything is covered in advertising: clean, shiny, designed to please.

Pause seems to have no place. Only in isolated scenes is it perceptible: the guard watching over the church; a policeman looking at his cell phone; a hastily lit cigarette. Those who are still do so because their work demands it; otherwise, the city never stops. It compels you to consume, produce, and circulate.

Despite the wear and tear, despite the blatant asymmetry, national pride looms above all else. A flag on every corner, on every cap, on every uniform.

A pride that separates, but also unifies, that hides imbalances under a common promise. A flag that hides problems. That makes us forget the system we live in. Like a fungus that feeds the root without ever seeing the light, New York lives thanks to those who are not part of it.