Home again

I come home while I can. I’m looking to the future in this place of such memory.

Enjoy, friends!

A tragedy

My phone was stolen out of my lap yesterday as I tried to learn the map on the train back from Manhattan.  I’ve been beside myself ever since for letting this happen.  “A tragedy,” I called it.

But actually…

I read this morning about the Utøya massacre.  This is an actual tragedy.  Losing my phone was a costly mistake, sure, but my misfortune doesn’t compare to the bigger things happening out there.

Here’s a first-hand account of the slaying.

Here and there

Lovers’ names, carved in walls
Overlap, start to merge
Some of them underneath
Maybe they appear
In graveyards
Maybe they fade away
Weathered and overgrown
Time has told
Meaningful hidden words
Suddenly appear, from the murk
Maybe they’re telling us
That the end
Never was
Never will
The words have gone
But the meaning will never disappear
From the wall

 

Animal Shelter Commercial

“abandoned and dying of a broken heart”

“never loved”

“every life counts.  they need medical care, food and love”

“you’re just one call, one click away”

I love animals as much as the next person.  I got my pup from a shelter and couldn’t be happier that she’s no longer living from cage to cage.  When I see this sort of sob story stuff it takes me back to a conversation I had with a man named Andre this past winter.  We spoke in the nation’s capital on a typically bitter cold night.  He said, “People will approach a dog on the street before they’ll approach a homeless man.  There are six times more animal shelters than homeless shelters in this country.  I don’t get it.”

People fear the homeless, or they don’t trust them, or they don’t like them because they’re homeless and they shouldn’t be.  Those animal shelter quotes work pretty nicely for some humans, too.  It’s uncomfortable to imagine living from sidewalk to sidewalk.  It good to imagine, though.

South Haven

Post #2 | 2.10.2010: Firenze: The Cradle of the Renaissance and American Tourism

My time abroad has been pretty unpredictable.  Every day really is a new day…I should be in my photography class right now, but my teacher is currently on the other side of the world.  As soon as we find out where the gym is, Matt and I are going to go to the Università di Verona and get in a pickup game with a bunch of Italian dudes.  Other than the fact that they’ll be hairier and have more sex than me, I think we should be able to let them know what real men are like.  One of my favorite things about being here is that I can’t foresee having a dull day when there’s so many new people and experiences waiting for me.  It kind of makes me think about how much I miss out at home by taking things for granted.

culture time

It’s amazing how accessible Europe is.  I took a four hour train ride from Verona to Florence last weekend and witnessed some of the most historically and artistically significant figures in a matter of hours.  There was a large group of us traveling and I knew that a bunch of friends were coming from Milan, meaning that I had to be ready for anything.  I think I handled the weekend pretty well and I’m glad I did…there was no way I was climbing 414 steps with a hangover.  I was pretty moved when I saw The Birth of Venus and some of the other works in gli Uffizi, and of course the Duomo and Ponte Vecchio were awesome, but they could not compare with my favorite part of Florence: the Galleria dell’Accademia.  When people talk about Michelangelo’s David, they say that it depicts a young King David as he contemplates his upcoming battle with the giant.  This is a research mistake on my part, but I had never really heard about all its history and impact that is what makes this work truly awesome.  I literally gazed at it for two hours straight.  Not only was the size incredible, but its precision was breathtaking.  It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend seeing it sometime.

One thing I didn’t really like about this city was that it was ridiculously touristy.  Don’t get me wrong, it was nice to meet other Americans and not have to make up words to make conversation flow, but everywhere we went, there were Americans that were allowed to be American.  Florence was a sweet place that everyone should see in their lifetime, but I am perfectly happy in Verona.  It’s less boisterous and you can’t really expect to get by in the city without adapting to the Italian way.  Maybe I’ve already established loyalty to my home city, but I feel really fortunate to get to live in a place that I feel can show me a more historically Italian lifestyle.

old faces, new places

It was pretty hilarious to run into my grade school buddy, Mike Higgins.  The kid likes to get a little drunk, is very forward with girls after a few drinks, and realizes that we’re in another country for little time…the perfect wingman for a discoteque. At one point during a normal conversation with some

girls, he said, “Dude let’s get out of here, these girls suck.”  I didn’t think they were that bad, so I said that we should stay.  Little did I know, he had already told them that they sucked and we therefore had no choice but to leave.  My man!  I hope I run into him again at some point during my time here. I also got to see my bros Jake and Chad, which brought back memories from being back with my friends in Champaign (unreasonable alcohol intake, disregard for strangers, unwillingness to pay cover charge or wait in line at bars).  Being in a program with 36 girls and one other guy, it was nice to be able to relate my friends for a little while.  It’s not easy sitting quietly as girls talk about their favorite Jane Austen movie adaptation or Desperate Housewives characters.  Che coglione.

more new experiences

I learned a lot about culture from seeing David, il Duomo, and gli Uffizi, but I think I learned just as much from the interactions at the discoteque.  For any Elmhurst homeboys/skanks out there, imagine the exact opposite of Ryan Borchert.  The venue was Space Electronicand while it smelled better than any campus bar, it still kind of made me want to throw up.  (Station * 2) + (Eurobros) = Space Electronic.  I knew from the moment I walked in that this was the kind of place where you really couldn’t have that great a time without acid.  With all of the mirrors, oddballs, flashing colors, and N*SYNC techno remixes going on, I figured that I could use a cocktail or two before making a fool of myself on the dancefloor.  The upper level was a dancefloor where I distinguished myself as the only guy suitable for American females to dance with.  Not only am I a fantastic dancer in this kind of setting, but all European males in this kind of place are scum, so I got a lot of security dances, which was fine by me.  It took so long, but with all the English speaking people grinding up on my d, I finally felt like I was back home where I belonged.  It was a fun experience overall, but I vowed after that first night I would never go back again.  I was wrong…we went back the next night.

in the meantime

After our Italian 1 test was finally over (no more 9:30 class every morning!), a bunch of my friends went to Milan for Friday and Saturday.  I decided to stay in town to go with Davide to check out some parts of Verona that I hadn’t yet experienced.  We went shopping, got some gelato, and touched Juliet’s b00bs for good luck.  A couple out-of-towners were in for Saturday night, so I decided to join them for dinner at their hosts’ place.  It was a cool little get-together with plenty of food and drink, which was very fun, but I learned that little good comes from plastic jugs of wine.  The next morning, our group got the chance to take a day trip to Salò, Sirmione, Borghetto, and Castellaro, which were dreamy.  With mountains on one side and Lake Garda on the other, this tranquil site was my ideal summer home.  On Sunday alone, I had pizza ‘frutti di mare’, donkey, and rabbit.  None were anything special, but I had to know, ya know?

This past Wednesday night, I stayed with Jake and co. in Milan so that I could get to Torino early on Thursday.  I didn’t really get to see much of the city, but it was a fun time going to aperitivo and a club with some friends.  I hadn’t been very successful with meeting foreign girls at this point, so I made it my goal for the night to charm some girl in Italian.  After a few minutes of successfully dancing with one girl, I said in Italian, “Dancing is the universal language.”  She smiled and replied, “I think I need a drink.”  Oh well.  Matt and I made our way to Torino the next morning and had a really awesome experience.  We went to a car expo and a couple museums, but the best part of the day was when Old Man befriended us at Palazza Reale.  He showed us around some of the coolest parts of the town and recounted a lot about his travels abroad.  He was born in Torino and still lives there in the winter, but we gathered that over the years, he’d lived in the US, South America, Australia, Russia, and different parts of Italy.  It was so cool to see that this wealthy, worldy old man was still humble and willing to take the time to reach out to two American strangers and pass along some of his knowledge.  It was a really intimate, moving experience for me and although I never learned his name, I think it’s better off that way.

the future

My upcoming outside-of-Italy trips are Ireland and Amsterdam and I don’t think I could be more excited.  Ireland is guaranteed to be a blast and for Amsterdam, I’m staying in a five-star hostel by the name of ‘Bulldog‘ with Miiiiiiatch and P-Crowe.  These upcoming weeks very well may be some of the most memorable of my life.  “But what will I wear!?”

 

Post #1 | 2.4.2010: overview.

It’s a strange world, this Italy.  The natives are quite big (naturally, but I’m stronger than a lot of them), their keyboards are difficult to understand, and there is little water in their toilet bowls.  I like it so far, though.  The Italians are very friendly and they seem to be laid back with a sort of peace at mind that you often can’t find in America.  Unfortunately, they don’t really use ice here and I’m starting to understand how Tom Hanks felt in Cast Away.

At Ponte Navi, Verona.

My time here will be comprised of class (Italian language, cinema, art history, and photography), traveling, laughing at Joanna Lucca, watching tons of TV shows, learning to cook and live on my own, and hopefully finding out a little about what it’s like to not be sheltered anymore.

roommates, lifestyle.

I think that you learn most when you take time to hear what different people have to say.  I think I’m beginning to understand the importance of actually listening to people who are different.

I don’t have the best physical apartment, but I firmly believe that I have the best living situation of anyone in my program.  His name is Matt and Matt is good.  An Italian roommate of mine, David, is currently walking around the apartment in nothing but his tight Italian underwear.  He speaks a decent amount of English and he is the MVP–Most Valuable PastaEater–of the apartment. 

Riki, Alex, Davide, and Matt

He teaches me bad words, tells me all about Italian culture, picks me up when I’m feeling blue, shows me how to be Italian, and has sex with me.  Riki (pronounced Reeeeeee-keeeeeee) is my other Italian roommate and he, too, is a stud.  He doesn’t speak as much English but we make it work.  Before getting an apartment together, they had never met and although they are different in their mannerisms and interests, they are fast friends.  Both are very easy to get along with and I am very happy to be living with them because it’s how I’m going to learn most about the lifestyle.  It’s interesting because l’Università di Verona literally just threw two Americans into these kids’ apartment and I don’t think there’s anything Riki or David could have done about it.  That is simply baffling to me.  I think that this further demonstrates how laid back, understanding, and easy-going these people are.  I have to imagine that it would be a big deal if they just threw two Italians into some American students’ apartment.

the past week.

I’m going to skip all the “OMG I JUST LANDED IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY!!!” stuff for now and tell you about the past week.  If I ever write a book about my first 2 weeks in Italy I’ll be sure to let everyone know via Raw Dawg’s Blawg or Twitter.

Saturday – Woke up at 7:00, went skiing in the Alps, met a well-known Italian journalist at dungeon pub, and saw first-hand why it’s okay to get driven home by a drunk Italian man.  All in all, it was a very, very good day.  Then again, aren’t most days very good days?  I think that they can be if you want them to…

Blissful night in Verona.

Sunday – Slept in past 8:30 for the first time in 17 days.  Didn’t really have anything to do so I walked around the city.  I’m extremely lucky to be able to spend time in a place like this with people like them.  I have a pair of sweet parents to thank for this good fortune.

Monday – I want to make my days here ‘long days’ no matter what.  Even if it’s just going to class and getting the most out of it, there’s no reason I shouldn’t be dogg-tired at the end of my day.  I had my typical Italian class, followed by my first Art History class, and cooking with Francesca to cap off a great Italian day.  That night, I got to Skype for the first time with two besties 😉

Tuesday – Booking tickets to places, losing my mind, cinema class

Wednesday (probably the best day of the trip thus far) – The day started with a hearty breakfast with the birthday boy and got better and better all the time. Italian class was hilarious and encouraging as I started to get the hang of this language thing.  We had to book sum’mo trips, but the rest of the day included my Twain meeting (I’ll be teaching Italian kids about Mark Twain…wait what?), and getting lost with Courtney.  A developing tradition with our friends here is Wednesday night dinner where some people cook for everyone else.  This night, Matt and I made a delicious meal for 15.  The ensuing festivities may go down as some of the most memorable of the trip.

Thursday –I slept slept slept (through class), read The Old Man and The Sea, and began dis blawg.  It was a mental health day.

Friday – Embarked upon our first solo trip: Florence.  Much more to come soon.

trips. AKA holy shit i’m going to be in debt for the next 20 years.

Our program is pretty fortunate because we have an Italian man, Claudio, who often takes us on trips to places in Italia that he thinks are important for us to know.  These are listed in bold letters.  I’m going to be travelling a lot more than I anticipated, but I think this is the way to go about it.  “Better to see it now and be in debt for a while than never see it at all,” a prostitute once told me.  I think she was right…I mean, I may never get the chance to get away and see all of these amazing, important things.  The trips that I’m not positive about are underlined, but I’m pretty sure they will end up happening.

(Places I plan on visiting: Mantova-Bevilacqua, Alps, Florence, Salò-Sirmione-Castellaro, Venice, Dublin, Hamsterdam, London, Venice-Murano-Lake Garda, Barcelona-Granada for spring break, Santorini-Athens-Cinque Terra for Easter break, Asiago, Paris, Amalfi Coast-Pompeii-Capri*, Rome, Cannes, the World.)

*I didn’t end up making it here.

That just about wraps it up for the first raw post; I hope you’ve enjoyed it. I am going to try hard to make this a consistent thing so that I’m not so disconnected with everyone, so please spread the word for others to follow!