Thiefhunting day one is not over. Not by far! Days have passed, however; things have happened and plans have been made. In order not to thwart eagerly anticipated events, I shall wait one day before continuing the story of Thiefhunting day one.

Instead, a few other observations that have been on my mind. Like fireworks. Every night, fireworks go off somewhere below us. Because I love fireworks, I leap to the windows to watch, even though I’m awakened from sleep. A display might be 30 explosions, or 300. It might be near or far. But shortly after it ends, there’s always another. Three, four, ten shows of fireworks each and every night. Our windows are wide open and our room looks down upon the entire city, so the displays are inescapable and to me, a joy. Albeit a noisy joy.

I asked our sound recordist Michele what inspires the fireworks. A wedding, a birthday, anniversary, any excuse, he said. It is a poor neighborhood and the people like to show off. It could be someone getting out of jail. Or it could be to cover up another sound…

Six tall flights below my room is a mountain road. Only two lanes, but busy with traffic. I’m appalled by the concentration of carbon monoxide fumes that come into our room and invade the hotel lobby. But it’s the same all over the city. Car fumes are chokingly bad. Mixed with the ubiquitous cigarette smoke, the air is putrid. I find myself holding my breath for as long as I can manage. Add to that the sulfurous clouds from the nightly fireworks and I imagine my lungs slowly blackening.