Time is a strange thing. Right now, where I was born, it's evening and life is starting to boil: people can finally stop fearing heat strokes. And where I've been studying for two years now, it's still overcast, but there are no fewer people on the streets; that city wouldn't sleep even if the rest of the world died in an instant.

In New York, the time we spent wandering around Times Square and the surrounding streets was no more than an hour, but to see so many different and mind-blowing things—you probably wouldn't see that much in my hometown in 10 whole years.

And I also liked how strangely time behaves when a person you last saw three years ago hugs you very tenderly and says, "Welcome to America again." And drives you in their big American car to a small American town, North Andover, where time passes quietly and imperceptibly because the sun hasn't been seen on the street for the third week now.

How much time does it take to adapt and understand what to do?

How quickly will time fly here, across the ocean?

What do I need to manage to do in these days?

Time will tell =)