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I've wondered many times how would life be without sound.
Just silence.
I guess there would be some advantages
like not hearing politicians or Canadian singer Bryan Adams.
-A...
-Puerta de Atocha...
-... departure...
Even so, it's a pain not hearing the train station PA,
or an important voicemail on your cellphone.
Archie can't talk right now. If you're George Bush, quit drinking.
Everyone else, leave a message. -Hey! Damn it Archie!
You've missed the greatest party! Why did you leave so early!
Don't worry, I'm sure you're not the first one
to puke on Laura's handbag.
I'm off to sleep,
I won't be shooting the documentary today. The docu-Archie! It's the best!
Hey! Damn it Archie!
CITY NOISES.
Alone as I were after Vicent's alcoholic desertion,
I decided to give a new dimension to my documentary.
I would pick up sounds and noises from the city of Valencia.
I wanted to know the sounds of the city that had charmed me.
The traffic light going green,
pure conceptual poetry.
No, no, no!
I'm sorry, I thought the light was green.
I was pretty sure I had heard the sound...
You just made a mistake...
There are lots of sounds in the city.
Can I reward your heroism with a cup of coffee?
What, a date? Sorry, I can't.
I like a girl, she's called Laura.
I *** up her handbag last night...
No, not a date!
You're very funny.
You've got a strange accent, where is that from?
It's Valencian from Boston.
Here, take your stick. I couldn't save it.
Is something the matter?
I've to go to the campus. Today we elect a new rector and I'd like to vote.
I could walk you there.
But will you do me a favor?
Me? What is it?
So there I was, on top of the Micalet tower, with Empar,
a perfect guide to reflect all that can't be seen.
The true soul of the city.
I can smell the sea breeze.
And Santa Catalina's chocolate.
The flowers planted in the square.
And a sower smell...
A bit like a sewer...
And what do you hear?
Music.
Some band playing a pasodoble.
And swallows looking for their nests.
There's a storm coming?
No, no.
Sorry, that's me.
I feel a little sick from last night.
I think it was the lemon on my gin & tonic.
Right, the lemon, that must be it.
Right, the lemon, that must be it.
No, but it's true. Lemon doesn't agree with me in gin & tonic.
The next morning, I'm all...
Please, change it.
Look, you've drank lots of beers. After that, you've had cazalla.
Nougat brandy shots. That bottle wasn't even open, nobody wants to drink that.
And now you're getting started with gin & tonic.
I can tell you, however you feel tomorrow, lemon has nothing to do with it.
Sorry. My name's Archibald, I'm here on a scholarship.
Laura. I'm here taking nonsense from every nationality.
Pleased to meet you.
All right, I've carried out my part of the deal. Now you just have to choose
who you want as the rector. -I guess you'll also have to help me with that.
The ballots are not written in Braille.
-He's touched the ballots. She can't vote. -What's the matter?
This young man touched the ballots.
The Erasmus has touched the ballots.
She's not voting, not at all, and that's it.
I'm sorry but the ballots aren't written in Braille.
I don't give a Braille.
She's not voting.
Excuse me, lady, I've done nothing but help my friend
I said she doesn't get to vote and that's all!
As president, I have a say in this.
So what can I do?
You can't vote!
Miss, please leave now.
I just touched a ballot, for just a second,and she didn't let her vote.
It's so unfair!
That day I confirmed a couple things:
that shouting harder doesn't mean you're right
and that in Valencia, there are lots of voices
but the noise suffocates many of them.
Oh, and walking sticks hurt really bad.