After some time in a dark, daunting corridor sort of space, John allowed us in. It was a wide, messy concrete room that was propped up with wooden beams. Under our feet lied a wood floor made out of construction board, as if to hide what lies underneath. Fluorescent lights hung on the walls in various part of the room. Ladders and scaffolding parts, with heaps of materials that were stacked on top of one another. A pile of planks sat on our right side, a large stock of lightening fixtures, moving boxes and crates of various sizes.

In the center we saw handmade tables and chairs which appeared to be quickly arranged. Around John, people are talking and moving fast. Some of them come and go, walking around the room, while other disappear into one of the tunnels that the space leads into. We can hear their voices, fading away, and not only English, but also Korean, Arab and other languages. We’re getting too close, remaining on the outside. The last thing we notice is a monkey next to a girl. The animal is holding her hand. For a moment, he seems to be staring at us, as if we were intruders in his home.