september 14

Easier said than done. I promised to write but... how many days have passed since my last post? I don't even want to think about it. In short - too many!
In addition, this is my third attempt to write this post as for some mysterious reason, the text i've been writing goes missing and all i see is a blank imput window. Let's hope that bad luck is gone now, and I can finish this post.

I haven't been writing because life has been everything but boring and when one is leading an interesting life, there is obviously less time to sit down and write. Write about life, the universe and who knows what else. Oh, I promised to write about Italy and Italians, I suppose.

Well, Italians are...Italians. What else can I say? When getting to know a culture, the first step is interest, even if one denies it, there is a good amount of exoticism in everything. One might not agree with everything, but differences are interesting. One may admit it or not, but when first coming in contact with a different culture, there is a good amount of exoticism involved. The differences are interesting, they expand your understanding of the world, they prove there is more than one possibilty to live a life (in a very broad sense)

The first step is a bliss. Everythig is indeed lohunderdvely, amazing and what not. But then comes the next step. One has to live in an evironment where  everyone is different. Different world view, different customs, a different understanding of what is generally accepted and what is not. Well the previous  sentence was a nice general way of saying that most of italians are always annoyingly late, their words and actions rarely go together one hundred per cent and...well there is more, let's not spend time on making a list :)

Oh yes, living in an evironment, where everyone is so different from you is certainly very interesting, but at the same time it can make you cry, make you fall into depression and...most of all - when living in a forgein country one tends to become the biggest patriot there is. One knows there is one country where people are "normal" instead of weird. In that country one knows how everything works - native country. In a foreign country on the other hand, every little detail needs attention, everything can and will at times go wrong. And there's no way f blaming others. It's definetly me who doesn't fit the norm, not them.

Water is deep and fuzzy and while during the first step, swimming was easy (because one was relaxed and rested) but now swimming becomes more difficult and I am mildly tired. It is a question of survival. Can I make it? I have good chance of survival and I hope i will  survive in this country because everything is indeed interesting but...at times it is just too overwhelming. Too much "difference" makes my head ache. Let's hope I'll be able to absorb it instead of developing an allergy!

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.