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.