I think they use the word 'foreigner' more often than 'stranger' but in italian the term is 'straniera' and it does make more sense because usually the foreigners are just a little strange - they don't know even the most elementary things. They don't understand the language, they order cappucino after eleven in the morning, they don't understand some of the jokes and they are completely ignorant about the unwritten social laws.
Well, I am a stranger and like all stranieri I am also quiet. Why? Well, it's because I don't know enough of the language to take part in the conversation. All, I can do is listen very carefully and try hard to catch the words (which of course are not pronounced the way they are pronounced in textbook dialogues). I can then take the words and I can try to understand the meaning of the sentence. When I am lucky, there are no puns involved and I understand. I try hard, I look at people carefully. They think I understand and they look me in the eyes. I nod and I smile because i want to be friendly. I want them to speak to see what I understand. But, the ugly truth is - most of the time the things they say has no meaning to me. Then again, sometimes there is just one word that does sound familiar and I am saved, I understand.
Oh, but speaking! Well, of course I have to do it. There is no other way to practice a language. Then again, to be completely honest, I seem more intelligent, when I am silent. Because when I open my mouth, terrible sentences come out. Today, for example, I went shopping for shoes. I tried a shoe on and i wanted the other one too. But alas, instead of asking do you have a shoe for the other foot too, i asked do you have it for the other hand too. Oh well... I realized it exactly 0.1 seconds after I had formed my sentence. Still, it was too late. The shop assistant, however, remained emotionless. Was he polite or wasn't he paying attention to my mumbling? I hope the latter. Let me have my false hopes!
And when I stop doing strange things accidentally, will I stop being a 'straniera'? The truth is that italians can do strange things because they speak the language perfectly but I can try to follow all the rules but because of my nose, my eyes and my broken Italian, I am the one who will remain a foreinger. No, I don't mind. Being somewhat exotic is quite nice actually.
3/30/09
3/24/09
settling in?
I have now been here more or less a month. Sadly, I have not yet found a job and frankly I am not as optimistic I used to be. Well, noone said it would be easy. Actually everyone said the opposite. Nevertheless, I have not yet come to regret my desicion to come here. Everything is still novel to me and I do, I really do enjoy every moment here. I walk on the streets and even though I have already walked on those streets, there is still so many details to be noticed. There are the statues, the fountains, the pillars. But the best part is that the details don't stick out. As a matter of fact the statues seem to be forgotten by the people. They have just always been there and they melt with the environment perfectly. The more enjoyment there is in discovering them of course.
I walking around aimlessly. I scketch, I take photos, I write down notes, I read a paragraph or a few. Unlike many, the idle state suits me well. But of course there is just a bit of guilt. I should be working. Then again, I do what i can to find a job. I hope that soon enough my efforts will have payed off. Untli then, oh well, until them I can just walk around. Still being optimistic, I consider the possibility that soon enough I wont have all this free time in my hands.
I walking around aimlessly. I scketch, I take photos, I write down notes, I read a paragraph or a few. Unlike many, the idle state suits me well. But of course there is just a bit of guilt. I should be working. Then again, I do what i can to find a job. I hope that soon enough my efforts will have payed off. Untli then, oh well, until them I can just walk around. Still being optimistic, I consider the possibility that soon enough I wont have all this free time in my hands.
3/10/09
cats!
I doubt that it's any news to anyone, but let me say this one more time:I love cats! And luckily for me there is plenty of them in Rome. Especially on Largo di Torre Argentina which is an archeological site inhabited by cats. I doubt anyone cares about the ruins half as much as about the cats. Well at least I am certain of my preferences.
a week has passed...
The week has passed in a terrible speed. I can't believe it is in fact already the second Tuesday here. It just seems impossible. So, have I done something extra special? Sadly, no. Am I enjoying myself? Yes, I am. I am trying to be realistic and I know how difficult it is to find a decent job for anyone, let alone a straniera but it does make me just a little anxious. After all, I do want to be able to earn enough money to at least feed myself. That would be a start, yes. But, alas, there is nothing yet. Just a whole pile of emails I have sent and not recieved any anwsers to (yet).
There is something I tried. What one has to do is sell tours to tourists passing by. And for every ticket you sell, you get a fixed sum of money. I tried it, but it is really not my cup of tea. The idea of bothering people on the streets doesn't really appeal to me. I did it for two days and the result was null. So, despite the fact that everyone claimed that this will be a great and profitable job as soon as tourists start arriving in hordes (in a few weeks), I decided to leave it. I have been here for a short time and I am still hopeful for something better. Naive? Probably. Well, the worst case scenario is that I have to fly back home. But this is not difficult because I have the return ticket ready.
As for Rome, I really do like it. It is beautiful, old and so different from what I am used to. The first few days I just marched around the city and visited the sights. Very very inspiring indeed. All those cuppolas, bell towers, pillars, facades and above all - all those fountains. I haven't decided what my favourite place would be but as I am a fan of greenery, I think one of the best places for me is the Villa Borghese area. Basically it's a huge park. Very beautiful and unlike in Estonia, it is already very green and warm there.
But Rome just might not be the most polite city in the world. It is full of beggars, for instance. Personally, why should I care how people earn their money but the fact that they keep coming to me and asking me for cents is a bit uncomfortable. I am used to beggars who smell, look really bad and wear rags. Here I have seen a few people who are dressed quite well and who insist on people giving them some money because they are so poor. I have seen them on the underground and thus they must have bought a 1EUR ticket. I don't fully understand this. So, is it profitable to beg on the underground? Is it a career option for me?
Besides the beggars who come up to me to ask for money, also all kinds of tourists do. But oh no, not the English-speaking ones. I meet with italians, who ask me for directions. Then I mumble something about not knowing or not understanding and they go to someone else. Hmm, I must look very knowledgeable. Sadly I can't help them. They speak way too fast for me. In general I do like the fact that everyone likes to talk. Yes, I do speak to strangers more than ever before in my life. I don't know why something like this doesn't happen in Tallinn. Maybe it's too cold most of the year round to even open your mouth?
There is something I tried. What one has to do is sell tours to tourists passing by. And for every ticket you sell, you get a fixed sum of money. I tried it, but it is really not my cup of tea. The idea of bothering people on the streets doesn't really appeal to me. I did it for two days and the result was null. So, despite the fact that everyone claimed that this will be a great and profitable job as soon as tourists start arriving in hordes (in a few weeks), I decided to leave it. I have been here for a short time and I am still hopeful for something better. Naive? Probably. Well, the worst case scenario is that I have to fly back home. But this is not difficult because I have the return ticket ready.
As for Rome, I really do like it. It is beautiful, old and so different from what I am used to. The first few days I just marched around the city and visited the sights. Very very inspiring indeed. All those cuppolas, bell towers, pillars, facades and above all - all those fountains. I haven't decided what my favourite place would be but as I am a fan of greenery, I think one of the best places for me is the Villa Borghese area. Basically it's a huge park. Very beautiful and unlike in Estonia, it is already very green and warm there.
But Rome just might not be the most polite city in the world. It is full of beggars, for instance. Personally, why should I care how people earn their money but the fact that they keep coming to me and asking me for cents is a bit uncomfortable. I am used to beggars who smell, look really bad and wear rags. Here I have seen a few people who are dressed quite well and who insist on people giving them some money because they are so poor. I have seen them on the underground and thus they must have bought a 1EUR ticket. I don't fully understand this. So, is it profitable to beg on the underground? Is it a career option for me?
Besides the beggars who come up to me to ask for money, also all kinds of tourists do. But oh no, not the English-speaking ones. I meet with italians, who ask me for directions. Then I mumble something about not knowing or not understanding and they go to someone else. Hmm, I must look very knowledgeable. Sadly I can't help them. They speak way too fast for me. In general I do like the fact that everyone likes to talk. Yes, I do speak to strangers more than ever before in my life. I don't know why something like this doesn't happen in Tallinn. Maybe it's too cold most of the year round to even open your mouth?
3/2/09
first impressions
Well I suppose it is kind of mandatory to say a few words about my flight, first of all. Well, in a few words: the flight was thankfully uneventful. And I recieved my suitcase from the baggage claim in record time. The previous time it took forever, this time it was among the first. Wow! It wasn't too hepful, though. Because according to the tradition my italian is always late (read: stuck in traffic) when I am waiting in the airport. Well, at least I could spend an hour looking at interesting people.
Sunday was in a way quite shocking. No, nothing special happened, but I drowned myself fully inside the italian environment and it must have been a shock for my brain. Well, i accepted an invitation to go see a play by a local amateur theatre. This meant one and a half hours of constant italian. I have a strong impression that the play was funny. Everyone laughed, you see. Well I laughed too. I think that maybe I even understood a thing or two....
Later I continued hearing Italian in a nearby pub. At the beginning everything was indeed very nice. I skimmed for familiar words in the conversation of 5 native italias. But sadly soon enough everything became just a constant flow of noise. On the few rare occasions, i was given some attention, i was slightly terrified. Their questions were undeshipherable for me. I must have had a terrified look in my eyes, when I looked in to the eyes of my Italian and begged for a translation. Well, I tried to at least anwser in Italian. And all I could come up with was si mangiano molte le patate in Estonia (A lot of potatoes are eaten in Estonia). Probably I made a few mistakes even with that simple sentence, but the pub was noisy and maybe, just maybe the didn't realize it....
Today I was in Rome and today I have spoken (or tried to speak) with more strangers than I do in Tallinn in one month. The craziest moment was when a man with a microphone jumped out of nowhere. Eee....non parlo....And before I could even realize what I had said, he was long gone. I guess there is truth in the belief that Estonians are phlegmatic....At least in comparison with Italians.
Later I tried my best to adress a question correctly. Scusi, quel direzione per Termini, I asked an older lady. She pointed right. Well, she did understand me. Was it correct? I have no idea. At least I found a way to Termini. So, I took the train (this is where I am right now) and soon enough I get off in Frascati train station. I wish I could boast with the weather, but it is raining. Still, its much warmer and more spring-like than in Estonia.
Sunday was in a way quite shocking. No, nothing special happened, but I drowned myself fully inside the italian environment and it must have been a shock for my brain. Well, i accepted an invitation to go see a play by a local amateur theatre. This meant one and a half hours of constant italian. I have a strong impression that the play was funny. Everyone laughed, you see. Well I laughed too. I think that maybe I even understood a thing or two....
Later I continued hearing Italian in a nearby pub. At the beginning everything was indeed very nice. I skimmed for familiar words in the conversation of 5 native italias. But sadly soon enough everything became just a constant flow of noise. On the few rare occasions, i was given some attention, i was slightly terrified. Their questions were undeshipherable for me. I must have had a terrified look in my eyes, when I looked in to the eyes of my Italian and begged for a translation. Well, I tried to at least anwser in Italian. And all I could come up with was si mangiano molte le patate in Estonia (A lot of potatoes are eaten in Estonia). Probably I made a few mistakes even with that simple sentence, but the pub was noisy and maybe, just maybe the didn't realize it....
Today I was in Rome and today I have spoken (or tried to speak) with more strangers than I do in Tallinn in one month. The craziest moment was when a man with a microphone jumped out of nowhere. Eee....non parlo....And before I could even realize what I had said, he was long gone. I guess there is truth in the belief that Estonians are phlegmatic....At least in comparison with Italians.
Later I tried my best to adress a question correctly. Scusi, quel direzione per Termini, I asked an older lady. She pointed right. Well, she did understand me. Was it correct? I have no idea. At least I found a way to Termini. So, I took the train (this is where I am right now) and soon enough I get off in Frascati train station. I wish I could boast with the weather, but it is raining. Still, its much warmer and more spring-like than in Estonia.
3/1/09
at the airport
Something from the past:
“Good afternoon,” said the man speaking on the microphone “Your flight to ... is now boarding.” Good afternoon?!? Has he gone completely mad? It is seven in the morning.Yes, I started my day, or should I say, night, at 3.30 am, thus hours ago. But by far it is not afternoon! No, it is early morning. Riddiculously early, might I add? At this ungodly hour everything seems like a mockery. I doubt he was ironic. But afternoon, seriously?
I just started waiting for my second flight. It will be four hours befor the plane to Rome will take off. And yes, I am bored already. I did try to read, but I can't really concentrare. Obviously it is just too early to read Borges. I am now seriously regretting I am not a keen reader of Cosmopolitan. If I had a copy of that with me, I am sure I could at least pass half an hour. Then again, as this magazine is hillarious, I might start giggling hysterically and the security personel would remove me from the waiting lounge because I seem carzy.
I am sitting here at Riga airport and I have a nice view over the jets. Besides that there is alos snow and wind. It's a minor blizzard. It seems to be nothing serious at all. So there shouldn't be problems with air traffic, but just in case let's not jinx it.
Actually I feel a little melodramatic. Oh when will I see snow again. Not in the near future. I am after all, going to a country famous for it's sunny weather. Oh snow, oh snow, how I love you. Well, in reality, I couldn't be more fed up with it. I want spring and I hope I will find it in the place I am going to.
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