I have successfully gotten up-to-date in my photobucket albums, so peruse away! I've discovered that I can only link each individual album to my blogs, so I think it's just better to find them yourself as I described in my last blog.
Well, after 4 days of getting up early and going to bed late, I am officially exhausted. However, I have felt very accomplished. I am currently fully packed for our trip next week, and I hope to get some much-needed rest before then. I studied some today, did 3 loads of laundry, cleaned, and am now relaxing by reading Rick Steves' "Europe Through the Back Door"....2006. I found it humerous to see that apparently an ant perished back then. The man next door keeps listening and singing to Christian songs that I haven't heard in years and had forgotten even existed. Right now it's "Father I Adore You" in English. Sometimes I sing along...I mean, it's loud enough. Often he can also be heard shouting--turns out he's apparently practicing a speech, which makes me wonder if he's a pastor. It sure sounds like a sermon. But I hope he's not Adventist because there's only one SDA church in Milan and I don't want my ears boxed tomorrow if I can't understand what's being yelled at me.
Speaking of church, 3 people all found and gave me the information for the same church...so thank you! From those 3, I was able to find the church name, service times, and location. It's an easy metro ride away. I have to admit I feel awkward going to a church where I won't know anyone OR understand anything being said. Maybe they'll have translation devices. Either way, I've felt like a "Badventist" for having not gone to church since we got here (although we were away traveling all but one time). So it will still be nice to go since we know about it now.
Last night was interesting, but not really in a good way. Wednesday night we went to an aperitivo with Shane's classmates again. It was a crowded, noisy place but had good food. Last night a few others were going to a different one called "Royalto", a luxurious, white, fancy place with 7 buffets and servers, all underneath a humongous crystal chandelier. (But still only 8 Euro for a drink and all you can eat.) It took us 3 switches on the trams (a system we hadn't yet tried) and a long frigid walk to get there. Once inside, Shane's classmates were nowhere to be seen, and all the empty couches were reserved. We were told we could sit at the bar, but it was full too. On further exploration, we discovered most of the buffets (consisting of 1-2 dishes each) contained meat we didn't care to experience, so we opted to leave. As we left, we saw his classmates coming in, but based on the food selection, we left anyways. The trip back was slightly horrid due to the outside temperatures. You don't get the semi-comfort of being underground when waiting for trams, and we usually had to wait up to 10 minutes. Seemed to me the night was more frigid than most. To make a long story short, we trammed, walked, and metroed all the way home, looking for other aperitivos along the way with no luck. By the time we reached home it was nearly 10pm...we had headed out around 7. And we still hadn't eaten. We ended up going down the street to an "Old Wild West" restaurant, where we ate a good ol' American meal of burgers, fries, and "Old Wild West Peanuts" out of the shell.
Thank you to everyone who emailed me about my blog! I enjoy your comments. However, for future reference, that gmail address is only in existence because it's required in order to have a blogger account, so I rarely ever check it. My primary email is ashelle_troyer@hotmail.com, and I check it daily . Or you can post comments on the blogs themselves--those go to my hotmail address too.
Paris and Barcelona start on Monday, so if you're itching to have a souvenir from there, let us know soon!
I realize that my link to the photobucket pictures isn't working. I haven't yet found the correct url to link it to here, so instead you can do it the manual way or wait until I figure it out.
Go to: www.photobucket.com
In the images search box at the top type in "AshelleT"...it will say that no matches were found, but at the bottom it will give you the option of going to the profile: ("Are you looking for the Photobucket user ashellet? Click here to see this user's profile")
Once there, I think it's easiest to click the "All albums" view because I've arranged them in chronological order by which vacation period.
The past two days have been very productive. Yesterday I got up around 7:30am, made Shane and I a cup of Italian cappuccino, and saw him out the door to class. I made him take the computer with him so I would be forced to study. It's a magic formula. By the end of the day when Shane got home around 6pm, I had:
Finished the chapter in my study book that I've been snailing through for the past 2 weeks
Did 3 loads of laundry
Washed a huge pile of dishes in the sink
De-cluttered the apartment
Put clean sheets on the beds (and made them)
Scrubbed the bathroom, kitchen table, and counters
Swept and mopped the entire apartment
Sat down with a Rick Steves guide book and wrote out sightseeing spots and tips for our future visit to Amsterdam (which promises to be....interesting)
In the midst of all this I took a shower, got ready for the day, and ate lunch.
Today I got up around 8, went grocery shopping (which included a 30 minute walk), studied half of another chapter in my book, did another load of laundry, did last night's dishes, ate, and made polenta for tomorrow's breakfast. It's only 1:00. Can I say I'm proud of myself? Ok. I'm proud of myself!
On another note, our trip is postponed until Monday because Shane has seminars to go to tomorrow and Friday. I guess that means we'll finally be scouting out a church this week. Cross your fingers that we find it!
We've also started scouting around for souvenirs for our families (parents, grandparents, sisters, and my friends Andi and Luis--we don't really have the money or space for anyone else) so if you fall into those categories start your wish list and help us out with some suggestions!
I am still in the process of uploading pictures to photobucket, but here is the link and you can keep checking back, as it will eventually be up-to-date. http://s997.photobucket.com/home/AshelleT/allalbums
Now, back to studying!
P.S. We were informed the other day that our "urinal" is actually a bidet. Whoops. Although who would want to use it rather than a good old-fashioned shower or wet wash cloth, I don't know. To each his own...
I've been silent lately due to an impromptu weekend in Florence! We originally were going to take our Tuscan siesta during Shane's one-week break (starting at the end of this week) but when we found out that Ryan, Jane, and Kristin were all going this weekend, we decided a group trip would be fun. I found out about this on Wednesday evening. It wasn't until close to bedtime that I found out we were leaving the next day, not Friday.
Now, for those of you like me who tend to commence packing a week in advance simply because it takes you that long to convince yourself you haven't forgotten anything, the thought of packing for a 4-day vacation that you leave for in just a few hours is a bit daunting. I mean, I still had laundry to do just to have clean socks, and you know how long our laundry system takes... But my excitement for spur-of-the-moment adventure overrode my fear of forgetting something important, so I took on the challenge and had 3 loads of laundry done by the time Shane got home from a meeting the next day. That's when he informed me that we had tickets for the train leaving in 1 1/2 hours. What! I forgot to say that I also like to leave a clean house behind when going on vacation, and this time it just wasn't possible. I did at least get our beds made and the dishes washed.
We boarded our train and discovered that Ryan, Jane, and Kristin were only three compartments down from us. We wished we could sit with them instead of the Asian woman and man in our compartment. By the middle of the trip we were really wishing that when the man opened his mouth to answer his cell phone. Within seconds, the entire compartment was filled with a horridly sour, almost sewer-like stench...from his breath! You think I'm exaggerating, but it was so bad Shane had to discreetly put his face in his shirt, and I'm pretty sure I gagged once or twice. This was a 3 hour trip to endure. Blessedly for her, the other girl slept the whole way.
Once in Florence, we actually had to catch a smaller train to get into the heart of the city, which involved running up and down stairs, missing the first train, and hopping on a second one just before it departed. This all kind of put me in a bad mood, because I was the only one with a rolling suitcase rather than a backpack. How was I supposed to know there would be 4 sets of stair races?!
Ryan, Shane and I found our hostel and agreed to meet the girls for dinner later, as they had different lodging. I was disappointed they weren't staying with us. We ended up going to a quaint little restaurant with good food and a friendly waitress, where we took our time eating and socializing. I was so happy to finally be around girls! It's a rare opportunity these days.
After eating the girls went home and we went on a picture mission of the bridge. I love Florence. The main streets are touristy and fairly wide, but when lit up at night they have a strange, quiet peacefulness about them, like how snow muffles sound. I wish I could live there instead of Milan. (But that's why travelling is so nice, right?)
Our hostel was nice but nothing special. It consisted of a twin bed and a king bed...which we discovered was actually two twin beds pushed together. Normally this would be fine....you each technically have your own bed and plenty of space. But, read on. The bedding on this "bed" was appalling in it's scarcity. It consisted of a fitted sheet, a top sheet, and the thinnest bedspread ever--made for a twin bed! The "fix-it" technique was to turn it sideways to cover both beds...but it only came up to the waist! Eh, no problem really. Shane and I had our own travel sleeping bags that were quite warm. So I gave the extra blanket meant for our bed to Ryan, whose noisy cot looked a bit sparse as well. In hindsight, I regret that generosity, because my little sleeping bag and a sheet did not do the trick. What made this problem worse came when we discovered that during the night, the two beds slowly trundled their way apart. Once again, normally this would have been fine, but try sharing bedding while this is happening. It gives new meaning to the phrase "stealing the blankets."
"Honey, you stole all the blankets last night."
"Well, no, actually the crack stole them. I never had any."
I might be exaggerating a bit, but it really was annoying, as it pulled my fitted sheet off, left me with inadequate, crooked blankets, and opened a crack wide enough to swallow me during the night. It didn't help that Shane slept on the far edge of his bed, dragging the covers with him. I couldn't help but long for my warm comforters in America, which are big enough for three people but are all for me. (I have to admit it's the one thing I dread about married life--having to share my covers.) Meanwhile, cozy Ryan and oblivious Shane snored loudly in peaceful slumber as I shivered and shook my way through the night.
The morning dawned bright and clear. Sadly for me, we couldn't get ahold of Jane and Kristin. Turns out that dinner the night before was the one and only time we saw them the whole weekend. :( We spent our day sightseeing, visiting the Uffizi art museum (first attraction we've paid for) and climbing the steps to the top of the duomo (second attraction we've paid for). The museum housed hundreds of paintings by famous artists, as well as what had to be hundreds of naked men and topless women statues. That really gets old after a while. Weren't clothes already in style back then? I have to admit I got a little bored at this museum, as it's just not really my type of art. Although it was fun seeing a few paintings I'd studied in History of World Art class. I snapped a few illegal pictures of those. The climb to the top of the Duomo was exhausting yet hilarious, as all you could hear was the echo of panting and helpless gasps of fatigue coming from unseen tourists both above and below you. Not meant for those with heart disease or claustrophobia. The climb was totally worth it though. We were lucky enough to get there when the sun was setting, and the view was gorgeous. For supper we went to an aperitivo situated right beside the river. It was gorgeous, peaceful, and romantic, right down to the candles on the table and the huge windows to take in the view. Ryan was embarrassing by busting out his huge TRIPOD and camera to take pictures of everything from our food to the other guests sipping drinks. So much for peaceful and romantic. But I'm sure he got some great pictures, and I'll probably be jealous.
The food was the opposite of the bill--small. Apparently it was fancy enough to not believe in large bowls of help-yourself-pasta. Instead they served bite-sized selections of quiche, tortellini, fresh vegetables, and seafood. That's one thing I hate about being here, is not knowing what I'm eating half the time. I ate a really good ball of something I thought was vegetarian, then found out it was a crab cake. Since I claim to be 75% vegetarian, only eating chicken and occasionally turkey, this revelation grossed me out. Also, they put pork or ham in everything. Nevertheless, I ate my fill of what I could and was able to leave happy.
The rest of our time in Florence consisted of minor sightseeing and another aperitivo, where I accidentally ate squid, or something equally nauseating.
We walked along the river...
...and I saw a painting that I loved. Don't ever show your interest though. That hand holding the painting belonged to the painter who was in the process of haggling me over buying it so much that I finally just walked away. Too bad though; he offered it to me for 15 Euro. I probably would have been willing to pay 5, since we're kinda broke. Some day I'll come back with money and decorate my house with gorgeous Italian art.
We opted to take off early Sunday morning to stop in Pisa before heading back to Milan. Not much to see besides the tower, but we had fun taking cliche touristy pictures and eating at a little snack shop before catching the train home. (I don't have pictures edited of Pisa yet, but they'll come soon.)
Our next adventure begins this Friday and lasts for a week! Destination: Paris and Barcelona. I'm excited to be going to Spain, a new country I've never been to before. This time we are also flying instead of taking a train. Hopefully it works out well.
For those of you who don't have a Facebook, I am in the process of uploading all my travel pictures to a photobucket account. Hopefully I can finish it within the next couple days and post the link to it in my next blog.
Also for the non-Facebook users unable to see my announcements, if you would like to receive automatic emails of my new blogs, email me at ashelle_troyer@hotmail.com with your email address and I will add you to the list. :)
Perhaps it's because I'm living in a foreign, unfamiliar country in a less-than-homey apartment, or maybe it's because I really haven't had any friends to hang out with ever since I graduated from my PTA program 7 months ago, but I've found myself thinking a lot lately about how much a location can affect my happiness.
I've lived in a lot of great places throughout my life, not the least of which is San Luis Obispo, my current "home." (Even though I actually don't have a house to go back to after this.) But every time I've sat feeling blue, trying to think of where I've been the happiest, one place always seems to jump to the head of the line. That place is...ready for this?.....Loma Linda, California. This is where I spent a mere 15 months completing my PTA degree, but I can honestly say that every time I think of it, I feel sunny inside. I just can't get that feeling out of my head! My classmates or others who may have been there for a long enough period of time might be wondering if I'm losing my mind. Could I really be homesick for this dry little Adventist-run town? Yep, I sure can.
Now, I realize that maybe my happy feelings are derived from memories I have of the people and classmates I shared all my fun times with. But all that aside, I think it's more than that. And for my own justification as well as my oddly high level of enjoyment for making lists, I chose to list the pros and cons of settling down in Loma Linda.
PROS:
1. It's almost always sunny there, which REALLY affects my mood
2. Nearly every morning when I woke up, I felt happy, which is kinda rare
3. Almost no rain! or terribly cold weather
4. Because I have memories there, it makes me love it even more
5. I'm already familiar with the town, so I'll never feel out of place
6. The mountains are 1 hour away, and the ocean is 1 hour away--what more could you want?!
7. There are palm trees
8. There's a hospital right smack in the middle (a very good and prestigious one, I might add)
9. I'm Adventist, and it's an Adventist-based town
10. If I chose to move there, there's a church school for my kids to attend, as well as a university, if they so choose
11. If my kids do attend the university there, I'll know they're getting an excellent education
12. It's a college town, thus there are always new people to meet and make friends with
13. There's a healthfood store there with all the "veggie meat" I could ever want!
14. There seem to be PTA jobs aplenty in the area
15. LA is only 1.5 hours away
16. Vegas, my favorite city, is only 3 hours away
17. I already know my favorite places to eat, stores to shop at, and fun things to do
18. I do still have some friends in the area, which would really be nice
19. I think alumni are still allowed to use their huge all-purpose gym and swimming pool/sauna
20. One of my favorite churches of all time is right next door in Redlands
21. It's in California, which is like Texas (my second favorite state), only better
22. There have been studies proving that the people who live in Loma Linda live longer
23. It's a very low-crime town
CONS:
1. Traffic is terrible
2. It can get miserably hot
3. Although it is low in crime, San Bernardino, one of California's highest crime towns, is right across a bridge
4. Shane might not have as much luck finding a job in engineering as me
5. My friends ARE mostly gone--it won't be as fun as I remembered or hoped
6. I won't be college-aged for much longer, so those new friends are more scarce than I think
7. No snow in the winter; I do enjoy having a Christmas that actually feels like one
8. Taxes in California are terrible
9. Housing expenses are a nightmare
10. It's smoggy
I dunno, I think the pros outweigh the cons don't you?? I'm sure there are more cons that I could think of. Feel free to tell them to me, because I don't think my chances of living there are very high, and I need to start changing my mind. I guess the next best thing is SLO, a nice little home, and my decorating skills. :)
BTW, I finally got the apartment cleaned and took pictures the other day. Lazy me is just now getting them posted. So enjoy!
1. Our kitchen, consisting of a tiny sink, a tiny washing machine, an average sized stove and oven, and an average sized fridge. Oh, and a microwave that also is a toaster. The room you see in the background is the bedroom--the only other room other than the bathroom.
2. The kitchen table, our front door, our drying rack, and the bathroom door to the right. And those are our prized free wines, which we've decided to give away to nice neighbors and friends. 3. Another view of the kitchen/bathroom door. Don't know why we didn't take out the trash before taking these pictures...4. The bathroom, consisting of a toilet AND a urinal. When I sit normally on the toilet, my knees touch the wall. I think Shane actually has to sit sideways. Haha! (But I really don't know, so I shouldn't spread rumors.) I post these bathroom pictures because I know my family wants EVERY detail. :)5. The shower, which thankfully gives a nice, hot soothing spray and not a cold trickle. 6. Looking in from the door--my bed and desk, and the window that looks towards the front of the building.7. Both the beds, and our coat rack. We also each have a little nightstand.8. My desk, where I (attempt to) study each day. The lights in this room (since the main one is burnt out) consist of 3 lamps, and only 3 plugs. 9. Our rather large closet and Shane's desk. And apparently I just can't take straight pictures. 10. The view out our bedroom window of the street market in front of our building every Saturday and Tuesday, all day. 11. And the view the other direction, towards the Garibaldi train station, which is between here and those "skyscrapers." And once again, I can't take a straight picture.
I haven’t written lately because I got out of the mood somehow. But now, after a lovely relaxful weekend, I am back.
Friday proved to be the best day I’ve had ever since we got to Milan. It started out with me dressing like the locals do—an extra-long shirt that serves as a dress, paired with opaque tights (which are also very warm) and matching stylish boots. I had been wanting to try this out ever since I got here, but until a couple days ago didn’t have any tights. The goal of the day was to go across town and do some major shopping at a grocery store Ryan told us was pretty cheap. Thankfully, this time Shane was with me. We set out for the metro, and 5 minutes into it I realized that I really should have dressed like the locals in the form of FLAT boots, not high heeled ones. Especially considering I had spent the better part of the past two days in bed and not on my feet. But I marched ahead, determined to get back into shape the way I used to be when I walked all over town in Poland…in high heels.
Unfortunately, Shane only knew the general area of the store, not the location, so we ended up walking quite a ways trying to find it. Of course, this put me and my runny nose, cold body, and throbbing feet in a less than desirable mood, and I finally insisted (or maybe snapped) that we return to Ryan’s place to see if he was in the lobby to tell us where it was at. He wasn’t, but the guy at the front desk was kind enough to show us on a map. Turns out it was in the same spot we had been earlier. We probably walked right by it.
I’d have to say it was worth the trek. This store had the cheapest produce I’d seen yet, and we also found baking powder, among other rare American items. Not to mention they had regular shopping carts, not just the little plastic baskets that roll and never seem to be big enough.
Perhaps the cart wasn’t a blessing, because we had only brought 3 large shopping bags with us, no backpack. And we had a lot of heavy things. But we loaded them all up and Shane graciously carried the heavier ones on our long journey to the closest metro. Now that was a killer. Our fingers lost their circulation and Shane’s index finger didn’t regain it until two days later. My feet felt like they were on fire, and my nose chose that time to run incessantly. We finally made it back to the apartment, and once there I was incredibly happy for our trip; it filled up our fridge and cabinets more than they had been yet.
For supper we were supposed to meet with some of Shane’s classmates at an aperitivo, which is a bar/restaurant where you buy a drink for about 8 Euro, which also gives you access to an all-you-can-eat buffet. I opted to change my outfit for this occasion, since we had to walk a little ways past the train station to get there. My feet were still burning even after taking my boots off for a few hours.
We found the building easily, and had to walk around it before we found the side entrance to the executive lounge where we were supposed to be. Upon entering we discovered that we were the first ones there. Shane hated that, but we found the two spots reserved for the class and waited. This particular aperitivo turned out to be a plush lounge consisting of bench seats similar to large beds with tons of pillows on them, and large round seats surrounded small tables to eat on. Talk about “lounge” literally! I decided I was in love with it and want a room in my house to look similar. The ceiling was made out of sheets, there were candles all around, and the atmosphere had a very relaxed feeling.
Eventually the classmates showed up and we all dined to our heart’s content. Even though we were happy with the food, we were told that it was by far not the best, compared to other aperitivos. All of Shane’s classmates spoke English of course, and were very friendly. We spoke for a long time to a friendly American girl who has traveled all over, knows the ropes of the city, and gave us some good tips.
After a couple hours of eating, socializing, and lounging back on the comfortable pillows, everyone started to make their way out. Jane, one of the 2 women there from Shane’s college in the US, decided she wasn’t ready for the night to end and wanted to go downtown. We decided for the sake of socializing that we would go too, and it ended up being a group of 7 that traipsed down the streets, a couple of whom are hilarious and made us laugh nonstop over funny tales of living in Italy. We ended up stopping at a little restaurant with outdoor tables, and I had a cup of really good hot chocolate. I couldn’t help but think that this was the most fun I’d had since we got here. I loved the company—people who were funny and full of life. It reminded me of my PTA classmates, who I miss dearly.
Alas, all days have to come to an end and Shane and I walked back to our apartment full and happy. The plan was to head to church in the morning, which we had yet to try to find. Unfortunately that night I couldn’t sleep though. I tossed and turned until 5:30am, when I finally got up and got online to pass the time. Around 6:15 I went back to bed, only to toss and turn some more until 8am, when I finally fell asleep. Well. We didn’t go to church that morning. It turned out to be a very boring day because of that. On a bright note, I did get to call my parents over skype, using the new microphone we bought Friday.
Sunday
Today I was awakened to what is becoming a very familiar song played by the man next door. Only this time he had decided to accompany it in a very loudly singing voice. Normally I wouldn’t have minded, but it was so loud that it penetrated my earplugs. I kept thinking, poor Shane, if it’s this loud to me, it must be really loud for him! Soon after this I heard him rustling around in the kitchen, so I knew it had driven him out of bed.
I finally got up and checked my email. Nothing. Shane had a meeting with his classmates over a project and decided to take the computer, so I had no choice but to be computerless and, ugh, study all day. I put it off by trying to mend my holey gloves, only to discover that apparently I took the needle out of my travel sewing kit and never put it back. Great. That makes one more thing I brought that is completely useless to me here. I don’t think I ever mentioned that list. Our phones no longer give us the correct time since we’re out of the US, our electronic translator’s unique batteries are dead, the adaptor we need for the outlets here is broken, and now I can’t use my sewing kit. We keep discovering more things we had that are useless to us here that we could have left at home and saved luggage room and weight.
I actually ended up having a great time listening to music with Shane’s expensive noise-cancelling headphones while I studied, and I actually got a lot studied. Hm. Maybe Shane should take the computer away more often.
After Shane got home and we ate dinner, we were sitting in our room when our neighbor’s extra loud music came on again. This time it was Christian music, as usual, but in English. And he was singing at the top of his lungs. It was so loud that even my music through my headphones was no competition. Normally I wouldn’t really mind, especially since it was music I liked, but Shane couldn’t concentrate on his studying and I couldn’t concentrate on this blog. Finally I decided to go over and talk to him, since it was obvious at this point he spoke English. He came to the door with his little boy on his shoulders. I explained to him the problem and he said he hadn’t known anyone lived there. He was very friendly and asked all about what I was doing here and where in the U.S. I was from. I could see his smiling wife in the background, and I wondered about their frequent yelling fights. He promised to keep the music down and encouraged me to feel free to knock on the wall if it ever got too loud.
How nice. We have an English speaking neighbor beside us and above us.
My sickness has played out exactly like Shane's did. He was even able to tell me what to expect next. Yesterday he asked me:
"Have you gotten a runny nose yet?" "Yes." "Is it to the point where you blow it and 2 seconds later it starts dripping again, so you're constantly blowing it?" "No, it comes about every 2 minutes."
Not 4 hours later, I was constantly blowing my nose. Then the sore throat went away, and I got a sinus headache, as Shane had. Last night I used a nasal spray to keep me breathing easy overnight, and Shane said, "You'll be congested in the morning." Sure enough, I woke up this morning all congested to the point I can barely breathe and when I do I sound like I'm breathing my dying breath. Shane seems to be doing fine now other than occasional needs for a kleenex, so I'm hoping that tomorrow will be my freedom day.
I looked in the mirror today and saw with disgust that I have the typical been-in-bed-for-a-week-dog-sick look. The one where your hair has a permanent cowlick in the back, no residual makeup on whatsoever, an unattractively gray pallor, chapped lips, and droopy eyes looking dead and gray, like you just experienced the loss of everything you own.
I never even woke up when Shane got ready and left this morning, and since I'm such a light sleeper usually I can't help but wake up, even though I wear earplugs at night. But I woke up thinking he was out in the kitchen on the laptop since it was so quiet, but no, the laptop was still beside my bed. Suspicious, I got up to go see. No Shane. Upon looking at the time, I saw that it was already 10:30! He leaves the house by 8:15, and I'm usually up by that time. Apparently I was really knocked out.
I've almost got the piles of laundry on the floor done. 2-3 more loads today I think should do it. I have a feeling once I'm done we'll just have to start all over again though. We also need to buy some fabric softener. Clothes that have to get hang-dried inside tend to have that starchy stiff feel, and it kinda takes away my joy of having clean clothes.
I'm not sure what to eat today, because really the only things we have left to make a full meal out of are potatoes and pasta. We had pasta last night and potatoes the two nights before. I blame this lack of variety on the fact that I cannot seem to find baking powder to make things from scratch. For that matter, I can't find a lot of things. Their diet here is really quite simple: different kinds of pastas, pizza, and different kinds of breads. Often you will also see sandwiches resembling Subway's, but just with meat and maybe cheese inside. What a boring diet! I mean, even Poland had a lot more variety, and we were able to get most of the things we wanted quite easily. I can't even find a yellow cheese here.
I had better stop trying to avoid studying and get back to it. I think I might actually be able to make my goal for the week even with being sick. :)
I woke up today feeling worse than yesterday. Sore throat worse and the beginnings of sniffles and congestion. Great. I can tell I won't get much studying done today because the simple thought of it makes me feel worse. However, I said I was going to push myself and I will. I promise I will crack a book for at least an hour today. It's the least I can do while lying in bed. It would be nice to have a soothing cup of Throat Coat tea too, but I wasn't smart enough to act on the memory of how much you crave the things you can't get here.
Unable to sleep late, as usual, this time because breathing hurts my throat when I sleep, I stayed awake (but in bed) and cleared out the clutter on my laptop. Not only on my laptop, but in my life. I have a tendency to keep emails, MSN conversations, poems, or anything relating to either really good or really bad times in my life. Every once in a while I enjoy reading back over them, don't ask me why. I guess I get a fresh perspective on the situation, or I want to make sure I handled myself well (hindsight is 20/20), or sometimes they've even become funny. Either way, there were several negative ones I was hanging on to that I just didn't need to keep around. So I deleted several of them, and with that felt a sense of freedom from the past.
It's amazing, the things you run across that you have forgotten about. I discovered old poems written over heartbreak, hilarious stories from college, and an extensive list of the small things in life that make me happy (which I'm tempted to post here some day). Some of those things, such as the poems, I keep simply because I'm proud of my writing skills, poignantly precise from the depths of my sorrow. Others I keep because I'm just a very sentimental person, and whether happy or sad, some of those things are just too hard to throw away yet.
Which made me think. Why do we (I'm sure I'm not the only one) hang on to things that remind us of the sad times, the angry times, the bitter times; the old relationships or the broken friendships? Is it because behind those bad times there were also happy times that we want to remember? I think that's my reason for it. Especially in the case of ended relationships...amid all the bad in the end, there was at one point in time something good. But still, why do we hang on to the past if we've truly moved on from it? Have we moved on or are we still hurt/bitter/sad over it?
If you go to my house, you will find two rather large boxes FULL of memories of one kind or the other. Notes from highschool friends, sweet letters from old boyfriends, even candy wrappers from my hugest crush when I was 15. Lame, I know. I'm amazed at the things I've chosen to keep throughout the years...most of them relating to the guys throughout my life. And at the same time I feel kind of guilty. I keep memories of old boyfriends, yet I am happily planning a future with the guy I plan to marry. Is that wrong of me? Does that somehow say that I'm not letting go of my past? That I'm not fully over someone? That I want to keep their memory alive whilst on the arm of my future husband? Will Shane see it that way? I think that deep down I've questioned this; somehow felt guilty but at the same time justified.
And I've come to the personal conclusion that no, it's not necessarily wrong. However, it does have conditions. Only you can decide how you feel about the past and the people that were in your past--it's up to you to decide whether or not those memories are harmful to your present. For most people I think that by keeping memories like that you are simply fondly remembering who you were and who has been a part of your life. Why else do we keep diaries? Every once in a while we enjoy going back to read about how our life used to be back in the day. For me, it reminds me how simple things were, how carefree and trivial my "huge" problems really were at that age. Maybe it's a way to escape the stresses of this current life and remember a time that wasn't so complicated...young, carefree, "in love"...I think it's normal to feel bittersweet about those days. Men may disagree, but for a woman anyways, I don't think that's so abnormal. And I don't think it means we are unhappy with our current life if we feel bittersweet about the past. They were, at one point in time, the things we laughed or cried at, the things that shaped our days. Memory is a powerful thing--it can bring back emotions we never knew still existed. That's why it's up to each individual to choose to keep or discard things depending on it's affect in your present life. And do things now to make the present something you would want to look back on with fond, bittersweet memories too.
When I go back through those boxes, there will be tons of things I will throw away. (Those candy wrappers for instance.) But there will be several things I will keep, to remember the things, times, and people that shaped my life and my future.....which, I think, will be a very good one. :)
Provided, this is written by a girl who is a lot younger than most, so my "past" is referring to the high school/college years. This was my way of sorting out my thoughts by way of rambling them into a blog, but I would love to hear your opinions on the subject.
The internet has come on promptly at 11am the past two mornings. Which is kinda good, because it gives me a chance to get SOME studying done before I get hopelessly distracted. But right now it's not necessarily the internet distracting me--it's the man next door who has his music on so loud and is singing with it, it sounds like he's in the next room. Good thing I like the music, it actually reminds me of the songs we sang at the youth rallys when I was in Poland. The kind where you can't help but sing because the music just swells up around you. Oh, he turned it off now. I was kind of starting to enjoy it.
Shane is officially sick with a cold--runny nose and frog voice and all that stuff. He said yesterday in his class he wiped his nose so much that it started to bleed! Poor guy. We went and got some decongestant for him last night. I've slowly been catching what he's got, and I wondered if I was going to be able to get out of bed this morning. I've been pushing herbs down his throat but have forgotten that I should probably be pushing them down my own too.
I did get up this morning though, after discovering that the street market was going on outside again. As soon as I got ready I ran down to buy a spatula we'd seen last time. We don't have one and there are several things I want to cook that require a frying pan. I got a good-looking sturdy one for 2 Euro. I also saw some good-looking boots for about 30 Euro. Can't buy those right now though. I need a coat before I need boots. Since my white one got purple splotches all over it I'm embarrassed to wear it half the time, which leaves me with either my new red sweater or my green hoodie. Hoodies on girls are questionable here. I get looked up and down every day, regardless of how much I try to dress to fit in. Maybe it's my blonde hair and blue eyes. And I hope those looks are ones of admiration, but I have a feeling they're purely criticizing.
I've been meaning to post pictures of our apartment, but I'm waiting until all the laundry is off the floor. I've been doing laundry for the past 3 days and have only gotten 3 loads done. That's because (A) you can only fit about 5 shirts in at a time (B) the washer takes it's sweet time, and (C) the drying rack only holds about one load, and they take so freaking long to dry you couldn't put two loads on even if you had the space. Eventually I'll post some pictures.
I'd best get back to studying before I get too distracted by internet. I've made a goal for the rest of the week and I really want to impress myself by keeping it.
(Whaddya know, the internet quit again right before I got ready to post this.)
So today in the midst of trying to study, and knowing that we needed to really go grocery shopping SOMEWHERE in this city, I decided to venture out on my own across town to an SMA store (supermarket here) to buy that food! To do so, I had to take a metro. I planned my route, gathered up my little rolling suitcase, Shane's travel backpack, our old shopping bags (you have to pay for your bags here), my passport, translation book, metro map, and money. I headed to Geribaldi train station, the closest one to us, where I could hop on the blue line and get to where I needed to be. Once there I couldn't figure out why it only mentioned the green and red lines. I should have paid more attention when Shane and I went out and about instead of just following him! Finally I realized that the blue line was the train, basically a metro but a completely different system. Not to worry, since it was just a few steps in the opposite direction. I bought a 1 Euro ticket, which is good for about 70 minutes. Hopefully I could get across town, shop, and get back into the station before my time ran out.
I made sure I was getting on the right train and made it on just as it pulled in. Thankfully I was going the right direction! I got off at my stop without a hitch, and realized that I was going to the store that was right across from hotel Rossovino where we had stayed the first few days we were here. Well that made it better, at least I didn't need to look at my map to know how to get there. Once there, I set out on my adventure: shopping in a foreign language. I despaired for a while until I remember that I HAD packed the translation book. Unfortunately the electronic translator Lydia and I used while in Poland has dead batteries. It would be a lot more handy.
Pretty soon my little rolling cart was full, and I still had tons of things to get. Some things I just couldn't find, or were too expensive to get in the first place. I wish they'd make some cheap tortilla chips. I really want Mexican. And rice. All they seem to have here is that round rice...gross. I did get potatoes though, which tided Lydia and I over for many meals in Poland.
I tried to find good cheese, but I think I'm pretty picky about cheese. The only kind I knew I would like is mozzarella, but here they sell it in little balls floating in water. Gross again. I'll wait till I absolutely need it.
Once I had decided I had enough food to justify my trip, I went for the part I dreaded...checkout. Normally I wouldn't care, but I was by myself and I had so much food to pack into my bags and I have a thing about keeping people waiting behind me. So I decided to do self checkout. Simple right? Wrong! Thankfully the machine had an English option, which shouted out each item's price to me after scanning it. It made me feel a bit self-conscious. "Over here! I'm the American and yes my machine is speaking English! Look at my huge cart of food and my open suitcases on the floor ready to load up!"
After the first full bag that I put in my suitcase, the machine began screaming at me to put it back on the scales. "AN ITEM HAS BEEN REMOVED!!! PLEASE PLACE THE ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA OR CLICK ON REMOVE ITEM!" At this point the cashier standing at her little booth just to the left of me walked over blabbing in Italian and put my bag back up on the scales, shaking her head and obviously telling me I couldn't put the bag in my suitcase. Is she afraid I'm stealing it all or is she just telling me what the machine is making me do? Either way, it was awful hard getting all my groceries to reside in that tiny space meant only for two small bags at a time.
At one point in time my potato bag wouldn't scan, even though it had a barcode. When I looked to her for help, she reached over and pushed the "key in item barcode" button, which made me feel stupid because I KNEW that, I was just hoping she could get it to scan without me having to do that. When my bags were threatening to fall off the scale to the point that the scale didn't recognize them and began screaming at me again, the woman walked back over and stacked my stuff on top of each other, then pointed to the sign above my checkout lane that said in Italian, "Max number of items: 15." Well. I don't speak Italian. The sad thing is that I really didn't have to; it was obvious that's what it meant. I just didn't see it.
When all my food was stacked in a tower on the scales, the machine asked me how many bags I had. I didn't WANT bags, that's why I brought my suitcases!! Besides, I had 4 bags and the machine only went up to 3! As I was pondering what to do, the woman came back over and pushed a button. I didn't see which one it was, but I turned to her and protested that I didn't want any bags, I had brought my own! She nodded at that and proceeded to help me pay with my credit card. I didn't need her help, I had done this a thousand times on my own. But I guess by now to her I was just the dumb blonde American who couldn't do things for herself. She handed me the receipt, which I don't even remember where I put so I have no clue how much it even cost. I pushed my stuff to the side of the store and loaded it all up. By this time I was sweating profusely in my layers of warm clothing.
As I finished, the security guard started meandering my way, looking at me, and I put on my most irritated This-stupid-store-has-put-me-through-hell-and-it's-so-much-better-in-America look and walked right on past him, making sure to not make eye contact.
I made it back to the metro to discover that my ticket had, of course, expired. Thankfully every once in a while they have the gates open and you don't have to slide your ticket....however, they often have officials at the other end of your ride checking to make sure you actually validated them. Well, I had validated it, and I hoped that that's all they would check, rather than the time. I made it back on the correct train without any problems, and thankfully there was no one waiting to check my ticket once I got off. I had to walk around a bit trying to find the right exit to my street, but it wasn't that bad, and I made it back home safe and sound. Hopefully now I can cook a nice different meal for Shane tonight other than spaghetti.
Lesson learned: I will never go on a huge shopping trip again without Shane there to help me!
Yesterday morning Shane, Ryan and I moved Ryan over to the other housing across town. Of course our internet hadn’t been working that morning, as usual, so Shane and I couldn’t check his email to see whether the woman he’d emailed about switching places had responded. We checked it when we got to Ryan’s place, and sure enough, she hadn’t. Figures. We went up and saw the rooms this time. They’re nice. Small but clean, modern, and private. The only downfall is that the showers are the kind where there’s no shower lip, just a drain in the floor, so water tends to run everywhere. The kitchen has much to be desired, if you can even call it a kitchen. I have a feeling I’d grow to hate that aspect of the place, not really being able to cook and all. And it would also be a pain to have to go downstairs every time I wanted to check my email. It sure is nice being able to sit in bed to do it here, when it’s working that is. So we chalked up the pros of not moving and sort of resigned ourselves to the fact that we’d probably be staying where we’re at, especially after the guy at the front desk told us we’d need to speak to the other woman; he couldn’t check us in.
We left Ryan to his unpacking and explored the shops near the Duomo for a bit. They were all too expensive for us, of course. Such as 300 Euro for some ugly, simple platform dress shoes. Designer, I’m sure, but still. I bet even their slippers are at least 100 Euro. So far I think the street markets are going to be my best bet if I ever truly want to buy anything here.
Shane and I went home, cooked some spaghetti, and finally unpacked. It’s a lot more homey when you’re unpacked, I discovered. Although studying is still going to be slightly depressing, what with the lack of sun or light in the place. Self-discipline Ashelle, self-discipline.
We tried to go food shopping at a little place we’d seen down the street, but whaddya know, Italians don’t like to work very much and therefore have “siesta” every afternoon. Shops usually all close at noon until the evening, when some open up again. So if you want to get anything done, you’d better get your butt out of bed in the morning. That’ll be good for me too I suppose. So that being the case this time, we went back to our apartment where the internet had decided to work again finally. We spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking, cleaning, eating, and bumming. We haven’t even gone to see the Duomo yet. Shane hasn’t been feeling well lately, due to the cold I think, and I haven’t felt much better. It’s a good excuse to stay inside the warmth and be lazy while we still can.
I’m REALLY craving American food. I’m tired of pizza and pasta already—not that it was ever my favorite in the first place. But as of yet we haven’t even found a decent cheap grocery store to buy all the basic things we need, much less be able to have ingredients to cook American dishes. I mean, we haven’t yet found butter! What grocery store doesn’t have butter?! Yesterday I had that feeling of unquenched hunger, even though we’d just eaten spaghetti a couple hours previously. Since we had spaghetti aplenty, I made a ton more to ensure that I got full. I did. And now I’m tired of spaghetti. Actually I could still eat it but I’m craving the kind of sauce my family usually makes: Ragu with pinto beans and TVP in it (TVP is a vegetarian beef substitute).
We went to bed early, so Shane could get up in time for class without being exhausted, and so I could be on his schedule, so he says. Wonderful. But I guess I need it, and it’s really not that bad.
Today (Monday)
Today I was unhappily awakened by Shane turning on his light to get ready, and I couldn’t believe it was already time to wake up—I had been dreaming so well! This was the day that my rigorous studying schedule should start, and while I had been ready for it a couple days ago, I wasn’t ready for it now! I stayed tucked in my bed until Shane left for school, all spiffy in his suit. Since I couldn’t sleep, the internet was once again not working, and I knew I really should get a head start on the day, I decided to take our shopping list down to the grocery store again to get those stupid groceries we can’t ever seem to get.
My walk to the store was cold, but not terrible. When I got there they weren’t open yet, but I only had to wait a couple minutes. I rushed in the second they opened it and started on my shopping spree. I started out with trash bags, since I was in the household section. No trash bags….was I blind? I decided to venture around the store to see if maybe they just weren’t beside the brooms and dust pans. As I walked around the store, I noticed something peculiar—it wasn’t a grocery store at all, but merely a convenience store with household items and beauty products. WHAT!? Why can’t we find a grocery store??! I made several trips around the store, feeling stupid because I was dragging a huge cart and carrying a huge backpack, ready to stuff them to the brim with FOOD. Not STUFF. Finally I found the trash bags….right beside the brooms and dust pans. I got two of them and looked around the store for more things we might need to fill my cart with. Of course there was nothing. I went to the checkout counter and handed her my credit card, after which she proceeded to ask me for my documents. Documents? At a grocery store? I suppose it does take the place of a driver’s license, but still! Shane never had to show his passport at other grocery stores we’ve been at, at least I don’t think. Thankfully they let me by. It was only 2,20 Euro worth anyways.
I came home with trash bags and no food to fill the empty fridge. Oh it’s not like I’ll starve today. We’ve got bread and jelly and leftover spaghetti and crackers. But I’d hoped to have a different meal than spaghetti on the table when Shane got home. Even worse, this means I have nothing better to do than…study. It might be easier if the guy next door would quit singing to his kid all the time. Wish me luck.
Obviously, since I’m posting this we now have internet. Woohoo!!
I have to be honest and say that I don't like Milan. Of course there's the Duomo, which I haven't yet seen, but the part we're in at least has absolutely nothing interesting in it. There are plenty of shops, but with a tight budget like ours we can't afford to really buy anything. Bummer.
We all spent yesterday lazing around enjoying our free pilfered internet, watching Glee, and eating pasta. We went shopping at the train station grocery store 10 minutes away, which is the closest and only one we have so far found within walking distance. We bought basic necessities: pasta, salt, jelly, bread, dish soap and scrubbers, water, yogurt, fruit, and a few small snack items. Guess how much all that cost? About $40 worth. It wasn't even that much! We've actually already eaten about a third of it, and it's only been one day. Depressing, to say the least. We have got to find a decent larger grocery store that doesn't suck the life out of our meager funds.
I stupidly wore my knit boots on that little trip to the grocery store. I guess there was a reason someone was selling them at a garage sale. As a result I was squishing water between my toes by the time we got home. That makes zero clean/dry socks I have left. We really need to do laundry--but our washing machine literally might hold about 3 pairs of my jeans, 2 pairs of Shane's.
On the bright side, our apartment was warm when we got back last night! It has been raining for a few days now, making any adventure that may be outside an impossibility, or at least miserable. I can't help but think that if we lived in a place like Sorrento, even the rain couldn't take away from me wanting to go stand and look at the gorgeous sea view. On a more optimistic note, maybe the lack of excitement outdoors will make me want to study more for boards while I'm here. I've been pretty stressed about that lately. We figured out that minus all the weeks we'll be gone traveling while here, I have about 6 weeks to finish studying before we head back. 6 weeks! In about 4 months I've barely gotten halfway through the study book! Of course, that includes not really studying for the past month, and not really studying for the first month either. But still. The stress of my impending doom really takes away from my excitement over this spur-of-the-moment adventure. Not only that but money is getting very tight over here, what with prices of everything being sky-high for New Year's and the Euro taking over the dollar. I guess I'll need all the mercy from God I can possibly get right now.
Today was another Sabbath for us. I searched in vain for Adventist churches in Milan before we came here, but to no avail. Either there are none or I'm just not finding them. I'm starting to wonder if I just won't be able to attend church for the next 3 months. Kind of a sad thought. I guess we'll have to improvise in the future.
I awoke this morning to what sounded like the murmur of a crowd below my window. Upon finally getting out of bed for the morning, I discovered that I hadn't just been dreaming--while I snoozed, a 3-street flea market had been set up right in front of our building. White tents protected the wares from getting wet from the ever-present rain, and a surprising number of people were out and about perusing the contents. Since we had nothing better to do, Shane, Ryan and I went and scouted out what I can only describe as the most exciting thing that's happened in Milan since we got here. Sad, I know. Unfortunately it wasn't that fun, because the rain, cold, and sogginess seeped into my pores once again, chilling me to the bone.
We spent the rest of the afternoon in complete boredom, because the internet we had been pilfering had suddenly been blocked. Guess they figured out someone was stealing from them. When you are in a foreign country, have nowhere to go because of the rain, no internet, no phones, no communication with the outside world, and only an internetless laptop to keep you entertained, it makes for a pretty boring time. I didn't even bring any books to read.
By evening time we were so bored that we decided to take a trip across town and visit the two other girls from Shane and Ryan's school who had also been a part of the exchange team. Secretly we hoped that they had internet for us to use. The rainy trek didn't do well for my slowly developing sick feeling, and I'm sure it was bad on Shane's too. However we finally found the building, which is like a dorm of sorts. This is where Ryan will be staying, since he's not allowed to stay as the third person in our apartment. The second I walked in I fell in love with it. It was WARM, it was bright, and there were tables all around the lobby room with people hunkered over their laptops, which meant internet. Unfortunately the front desk informed us that we couldn't go to the girl's rooms unless we had our passports, which Shane and I didn't but Ryan did. So he went up to look at the rooms while Shane and I sat waiting and I wished in my mind that we could live there too. When Ryan came back down with one of the girls, we checked our email and Ryan went to talk to the guy about moving in. In 10 minutes he had the key and was checked in! After hearing descriptions of the place, I wish even more that Shane and I could live there too. We would each have our own room with a shared bathroom, and a community kitchen. The kitchen, we were told, is extremely ghetto, with only 2-3 burners, no oven, no fridge, and no dishes. Fortunately there are personal fridges in each person's room. Regardless, I would feel so much happier living there than our drafty, dark, cold apartment.
Upon getting back to said apartment, I looked around and realized it really wasn't THAT bad. Since it had warmed up it was a bit more homey, and we did have dishes and a decent kitchen after all. We emailed the woman in charge of our housing to request the switch, but this particular woman seems to be very selective of who and what she chooses to respond to. Several emails sent to her by Ryan and Shane just haven't gotten answered, while still others have been answered, but very vaguely. We'll see if she responds to this one or not. If it doesn't work out, I'll just have to be happy where I'm at. Maybe it will teach me something. I'm pretty spoiled after all. :)
The past few days since I’ve updated have been mostly uneventful. We packed up our bags at Seven Hotel on Tuesday morning and ate our free breakfast, then made the walk to the train station. My bag was getting progressively heavier, what with the 2 bottles of wine and my huge sweater purchase. I decided in my head as we walked that if anyone bothered me, all I’d have to do was swing around and hit them with my backpack—it would knock them out for sure. Lydia and I used to talk about different ways to defend ourselves should the need arise, and we developed the joke that a frozen bag of pierogies would suffice nicely. I suppose girls tend to think of these things sometimes.
We have recently obtained a food bag. Yes, the dreaded food bag. And guess who got to carry it? Me. Oh the memories. Actually it wasn’t too bad, since we hadn’t yet accumulated as much stuff as Lydia and I did. But our 3-week break is sure to be a killer in the food bag department.
The train from Sorrento to Naples was uneventful. I stared out the window, observing my happy little world whiz away. Deep green valleys and sea views gave way to dingy ghetto apartments and junkyards sporting cars compacted into suitcase-sized squares. Naples really is the most unappealing city I’ve seen in Italy thus far. I’m so glad I don’t live there. We’ve also heard it’s the highest crime city—another great reason not to live there. So far Shane and I have been lucky to keep all our possessions to ourselves. That is, with the exception of New Year’s eve in Rome, when we both stupidly put our metro passes into easily accessible pockets. The next day, neither of us could find them. We are guessing we were the victims of a pick-pocketer.
Upon arriving to the Naples train station, we went to buy reservations only to find that the next un-full train for Milan didn’t leave for another 3 hours. Three hours in this train hole? The Naples station is by far not the place you want to be stuck for more than 20 minutes. We resigned ourselves to our bad judgment once again and made ourselves comfortable in McDonalds for the remaining wait, where we bought french fries and I worked on my picture editing skills. While in there I heard my favorite song “I Got A Feeling”, which made me happy and sing-songy for the rest of the wait.
Unfortunately we weren’t sitting together on the train to Milan—we were across the aisle--even though no one was sitting anywhere near us. We decided that the one stopover in Rome must be a killer, if these were the only seats left on the train. In the meantime, we sat next to each other and entertained ourselves by watching Glee, my newest favorite show.
Upon stopping in Rome, the train was flooded to capacity. I somehow got sucked into trading seats with the woman across from me, so I was even farther away from Shane and we couldn’t really talk except through mouthing. We spent the trip passing the laptop back and forth and staring into space, wishing for a bed (or at least I was!). One kind woman across from me gave me a mint that tasted like licorice then got REALLY strong. She herself ate about 10 of them during the trip. They must be her favorite.
Once in Milan, the trek to the hostel was easy since we had stayed there previously, even though we went the long way on accident. We were upgraded to a two double bed private room with a bathroom, which was nice. Our bags were then brought in safe and sound—whew!
The next day we woke up freezing. I wore my coat and even boots in the room just to keep warm, and I was still cold. The heater was cold, the air was cold, the floors were cold. By the time we left I was in a bad mood over one of those feelings you sometimes get that you’ll just never be warm again.
We devoted this day to figuring out the ropes of the metro system for getting to the university from our apartment. First we had to find the apartment. The entire day was a whirlwind of hopping on one metro, bus, or train after the other. We made several mistakes and went the wrong way several times, but we found both the apartment and the school by the end of the day, along with the best route for getting there. When we got back to the hostel, they had cleaned it and the heater was on full-blast. YAY! We had decided to book another room there for the night rather than trek across town to find one closer to our apartment. Seeing as how much stuff we had to lug around, that was probably a good idea.
Thursday morning dawned bright and…cold again. This time we had decided to go meet with someone at the school with whom Shane had been in contact, to see if we could pay for and get our apartment before the night. Our first mistake was on my part, causing us to hop on the wrong train going the wrong direction. No biggie, you just get off at the next stop and retrace, right? Unfortunately this train came out of the tunnels and just kept gaining more and more speed. We could tell that we were headed out of town. Great. We were already late for when we had hoped to be there—thankfully we didn’t have an appointment. We got off at the next stop about 15 minutes later, and waited for the next train…and waited, and waited. Finally it came by, and we hopped on it regardless of which one it was. We just wanted to get back into the city again! Assuming by the places we stopped at that it was the one to lead us to our destination, we stayed on it until what we thought was our stop. Unfortunately it wasn’t, but it did land us in the general vicinity of the university. We trekked around for a while trying to find the set of office buildings we needed. Upon finally finding them, we were met with Gudula, a very nice younger woman about our age who spoke English. She couldn’t reach the person we needed for the apartment, but was able to set up a meeting with us and a woman who runs the building we were staying in. Unfortunately the meeting wasn’t until 3pm, and it was only about 11am at the time.
Since we had stored our bags at the hostel again and told them we might not be back until 3 or 4, we opted to just not go back until we were actually ready to pick them up and take them with us. So we took our time by eating at a cute pizzeria right next to our apartment building, and walking down some shopping streets. I bought a sparkly tan scarf, which I loved at first sight. Unfortunately I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do much shopping here because everything is so expensive—I’m not even sure there is such a thing as thrift store or second-hand here.
Once the shopping streets ran out we found ourselves in front of a large castle complete with a moat. Hm. So far in my experience here in Milan there’s not too much worthy of being excited about, unless of course you love shopping. Bummer for us since we’ll be here for 3 months. We took pictures of the castle and proceeded to go inside, where there was basically a large open courtyard to walk around in. Slightly boring actually. At the entrance we were bombarded by our European enemy: another “gifter” who wants your money. This time it was a Black guy from Africa, and he began rattling on about random things as he tried to put a rainbow-colored thread bracelet on my wrist. I declined and tried to pull away, but he insisted, and somehow I helplessly stood there thinking about why I can’t ever just put my foot down with these people from the get-go. After adorning me, he turned to Shane, who also refused. But did that stop the guy? No. As he put it on, Shane said, “I’m not paying for this.” But sure enough, as soon as we began to walk away, the guy began rubbing his fingers together. “Please, just for some coffee.” I looked at him and said “We told you no!” When he kept bugging Shane to give him some money, Shane took and ripped the bracelet off his wrist and threw it on the ground. At this the guy got mad and walked away.
After a few pictures with the castle, another guy approached us. I’m quite sure he had seen the exchange between his companion and us, yet he still tried to shake our hands. We ignored his hand and were actually quite rude to him, refusing to make conversation with him or accept his “gift” of a bracelet. Apparently unfriendliness makes them mad (are they really surprised?) and as we walked away Shane thought he heard the guy cuss at him under his breath. We opted to skirt around the castle to get out.
By the time 3pm approached, we were more than ready to have our apartment and have a place to call our own. Previously we had been planning to stay there with Ryan, our friend who was also doing the exchange program with Shane. However, in an email we were told that only Shane and I could stay in the apartment because there were only two beds—Ryan would have to get a single apartment at a different location. We still aren’t sure whether or not they will let us all 3 cram into one apartment, but it sure would save us some money. However, I’m doubtful about it because of the sleeping arrangements. Two twin beds do not accommodate 3 people, and there’s no way I’m about to share a twin bed for 3 months. I’d be perfectly happy sleeping on the floor, but we’d have to get more blankets and padding for me to deal with that for 3 months too. I guess we’ll find out.
We were met in the apartment building by a woman, Alessandra, who spoke almost no English. She brought us up to our apartment on the 4th floor, rattling away in Italian. We sat down and signed some papers, gave our passport information, and somehow understood as she explained in Italian how to get our WiFi working. She then brought us up one more floor to speak to a woman living right above us—a woman who speaks flawless English and offered to help us with anything we needed, anytime. Whew! What a relief! There is something very reassuring about knowing there is someone close by who speaks your language in a foreign place.
After visiting this woman, Alessandra rattled some more in Italian, handed us the keys, said Ciao, and left! YES!! We had a place to live!! Our only question was: when do we pay?? She hadn’t asked for a cent, and we assumed she thought it had already been taken care of; it should have been before we came actually, but the school never gave us their information for payment. Regardless of when we paid, we had a place to keep our bags!
First impressions of the apartment: the rooms are nice and big, the balcony view is pretty, but the furnishings are slim and I can tell it will feel a bit un-homey. Homey is my big thing. I have to have a place that is homey, if I am at all able to make it so. Unfortunately I don’t think this will be one of those places. As you walk in, you are met by a large kitchen/dining room area. The kitchen counter is almost non-existent, and there is a washing machine smack in between the sink and the stove. A large table takes up the other side of the room, along with a smallish refrigerator. The small bathroom, which only fits tiny people, opens to one side of the kitchen. The back room is the bedroom, fairly large, with two twin beds, two closets, two desks, and two nightstands. A window looks down onto the street. There are only two windows in the entire apartment, typical of European buildings. That means not much light, which is another one of my big things. Oh well. I will post pictures as soon as I can. We’re still not sure if we will be living here or upgrading to a 3 bed place to fit Ryan….or maybe me, since I’m technically the tagalong.
We rushed back to our hostel to get our bags and deposit them at the apartment before going to meet Ryan at the train station. He had been traveling in France. We got there just as his train was scheduled to arrive, but we didn’t know which platform it was on, and the schedule of arrivals didn’t list it. So we walked up and down the train station looking. No Ryan. We waited in the middle. No Ryan. We walked down to the metro. No Ryan. Finally we decided that he had decided to venture out to find the apartment on his own, so on our way back we stopped at a grocery store and bought some essential items, including toilet paper and pasta. Upon reaching the apartment, still no Ryan. Shane left a note on the front door telling him to buzz our apt number, and we sat down and enjoyed pilfering someone’s wireless. Finally when we had about given up hope of him ever finding it, our buzzer sounded. There was bedraggled Ryan, lugging two huge suitcases after traipsing all over town getting wrong directions. We made spaghetti that night with pesto and shared stories of our experiences over the past week.
I got my degree as Physical Therapist Assistant but my dream is to open my own home decor store. I love anything tropical. Rain depresses me. I am an artist. My not-so-secret obsessions are E-bay and garage sales. I hate monotony and wish my life could be spectacular, but I am caught in the existence of an ordinary girl. In all fairness, I have a wonderful man and a wonderful family. I have everything I need.
The man next door keeps listening and singing to Christian songs that I haven't heard in years and had forgotten even existed. Right now it's "Father I Adore You" in English. Sometimes I sing along...I mean, it's loud enough. Often he can also be heard shouting--turns out he's apparently practicing a speech, which makes me wonder if he's a pastor. It sure sounds like a sermon. But I hope he's not Adventist because there's only one SDA church in Milan and I don't want my ears boxed tomorrow if I can't understand what's being yelled at me.
