It's one of my weaknesses, maybe my biggest (thanks Dad). But I have to say, and I'm open to other opinions here, but I think Italy has helped me enormously on this front. I realized after maybe 3 months that you will be miserable living in Italy if you can't take a deep breath, pause, and also let it go. The tricky thing about Italy is that you think it's developed, you think 'hey, they came up with democracy, art, etc.' this place has got to have it down, and then you encounter your first what would be in America a run of the mill exchange, let's say for fun - returning an item to a store that is faulty or calling a plumber. In Italy this is not a one off exchange, but often a ten to twenty off exchange - and if you don't accept it, stay calm, be patient, breath out, you'll never last or at least while you're lasting you'll be miserable. And what I can say is that throw an Italian into another country and they'll always be pleased about how fast, efficient, helpful people are (if they speak the language of said country where they're at). The lesson here is expectations - Italy has taught me to expect the worst, and then I'm always prepared (in campana) and pleasantly surprised when things do go right, which is a great way to pave happiness in the rest of my life. Thank you Italy for teaching me the art of breathing and letting go - let it go, let it go....one thing that makes patience an easier medicine to swallow in Italy is a plethora of mozzarella. Let's see how my newlearned patience goes away from all that buffalo milk....
Friday, October 2, 2015
Food rules
I know, am I really going to miss them? After 4.5 years trying to learn all of them, being exasperated by them, and not getting the logic - I will, I will miss them. I've spoken here before about how I love Germans for their predictability about complaining about certain things, and while most people would never equate Italians and Germans, there is something comforting about once you finally learn the rules of Italian eating and know what you're up against. And while I poopooed a lot of them and still think they shouldn't actually be 'rules' but maybe just advice, I do now see the value in 'some' of them (be clear I did not say all). After trying eating pasta with shrimp or pasta with clams without parmesan, I can tell you I get it. It's true the cheese does overpower the light seafood flavor that is much better on its own. And while I do often sneak a cappuccino mid-afternoon from the vending machine so I don't have to embarrass myself/enrage the coffee bar about wanting milk after lunch, it is true that after a heavy meal an espresso does go down easier than a lot of milk with your coffee. And this whole business about having to have a tablecloth to eat or at least a rudimentary 'American' placemat, I get it. Eating on raw table makes a mess, that is much easier dealt with if you can whip said covering out of the way and 'shake it off, uh oh, shake it off'. And a much easier rule to adopt was no mixing of sweet and savory, because frankly most of the time it misses the mark. Yes I will admit that stuffing I made for Thanksgiving with panettone was weird. So let's just say, I will miss the rigor with which you view digestion and respect the individuality of flavors and I promise to take your lessons (not rules) with me, and respectfully break your rules when it suits my fancy, I'm still American after all.
Verbal noises
In my second post of 100daysofRoma, I'm truly going to miss the Italian verbal noises. I'm sure I could write each day about an aspect of the Italian language that I'm going to miss but the noises come first.....So what am I talking about when I say noises? It's hard to give an English equivalent, but to give you some sort of reference imagine 'hmmmm', or 'ugh' or 'huh', except that in Italian there are about a thousand. Some of my favorites include (spelling refers to English pronunciation):
-euuuuwww (no way!)
-uffa (ugh)
-bo (oh well, heh)
-e moh (so, not actually sure what this one means exactly)
-c'e (now while c'e actually means 'there is' it is also used to just fill in a sentence like 'umm' or 'like')
When I first moved here I thought but I don't get it why are they saying c'e when they don't mean there is, or what is this 'bo' that seems to come after every other eh? And now when I walk around it's part of the music. Italians use these sounds about as often as they use actual words so it's like a fine organ of euwww/uffa/bo/e moh.....you can hear it right?
-euuuuwww (no way!)
-uffa (ugh)
-bo (oh well, heh)
-e moh (so, not actually sure what this one means exactly)
-c'e (now while c'e actually means 'there is' it is also used to just fill in a sentence like 'umm' or 'like')
When I first moved here I thought but I don't get it why are they saying c'e when they don't mean there is, or what is this 'bo' that seems to come after every other eh? And now when I walk around it's part of the music. Italians use these sounds about as often as they use actual words so it's like a fine organ of euwww/uffa/bo/e moh.....you can hear it right?
Friday, September 25, 2015
So I lied - the sky
Wouldn't be the first time as many of my high school friends would tell you.....I really thought I could get myself in order to post more often with my departure from Rome and my arrival to a new city in London - but I lied to myself and to all of you in that it truly takes dedication to this space.
Well I can't say I'm totally dedicated again, but I'm going to try and as my Mom would say, try try try again, and if at first you don't succeed...
So here it is, my first post of 100 days of Roma and what I'm going to miss - the sky.
I'm not sure why or how, but the sky in Rome is different. The pinks and oranges are brighter, the swallows (see future post) are more amazing, and it just always seems more RomEantic than any sky I've every experienced before.
I'm going to miss the casual oh wow moments of sky that Rome gives you so often to just remind you of the true beauty that it is to live in this city. And unfortunately pictures can't capture it so you'll have to visit yourself to get what I'm saying.
Well I can't say I'm totally dedicated again, but I'm going to try and as my Mom would say, try try try again, and if at first you don't succeed...
So here it is, my first post of 100 days of Roma and what I'm going to miss - the sky.
I'm not sure why or how, but the sky in Rome is different. The pinks and oranges are brighter, the swallows (see future post) are more amazing, and it just always seems more RomEantic than any sky I've every experienced before.
I'm going to miss the casual oh wow moments of sky that Rome gives you so often to just remind you of the true beauty that it is to live in this city. And unfortunately pictures can't capture it so you'll have to visit yourself to get what I'm saying.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Capitals Calling
Oh how I've missed you, or maybe more correctly - oh how I've missed me. I've been gone for a loooonngggg time - yes two years to be almost exact, but let me tell you I've thought about this space often and reminisced. I never thought to come back to blogging as I figured to be inspired to write I needed to honor how this blog started - sharing new insights into adventures in new capital cities and how much more do I have to say about Rome (didn't you get enough after two years of the capital of the ancient world) or traveling to the same two countries in Africa back and forth for years (Malawi and Sierra Leone). But then the Capital fates intervened.....
London Calling
Now granted London didn't actually call me, but you know how sometimes you eavesdrop on calls and then tell the stories you heard like they were your own until it becomes like that call was for you? No? Well if you know the background of the term 'london calling' you would know that it was even, and especially, open to eavesdroppers. So I heard you London, even through the morse code of love, I got it loud and clear that it's not only time for a new adventure but also time to come back to this space.
100daysofRome
My calling has me departing Rome in June to follow the great big smoke signals to what this new capital will entail. And while there aren't quite 100 days before my planned sniffing smoke journey, my plan is to go back to where this blog started with a catalogue of the 100 things I am truly truly going to miss about my newish found home in Rome. A few rules about this 100thing objective - 1) I won't be reading old blog posts, so expect some regurgitation as I summarize the best of the best of these last four years; 2) you know Italians don't like rules so I will post a few at a time or none at all, no schedule promised, just that I'm seeking to hit 100 before I high step out of here.
YouCallYourselfCapitalThoughts?
It's true that I quit this blog when I felt like I had no new material, but in fact I did keep traveling, albeit less regularly, and I owe it to those other capitals to share a few insights. I will feature a few guest capital moments in my countdown to saying Ciao for Now to Italy including: Amman, Kinshasa, Panama City, Copenhagen, Pattaya (I know it's not a capital per se, but it is the world capital of sex tourism so in my book of no rules, it qualifies), Colombo......
I invite you back to join me on this next adventure of saying goodbye to one capital and saying Good day (Ta? I mean what do they in British English?) to a new one.........As always I don't promise you good grammar, or basically anything else, other than the ability to read my capital thoughts.....
London Calling
Now granted London didn't actually call me, but you know how sometimes you eavesdrop on calls and then tell the stories you heard like they were your own until it becomes like that call was for you? No? Well if you know the background of the term 'london calling' you would know that it was even, and especially, open to eavesdroppers. So I heard you London, even through the morse code of love, I got it loud and clear that it's not only time for a new adventure but also time to come back to this space.
100daysofRome
My calling has me departing Rome in June to follow the great big smoke signals to what this new capital will entail. And while there aren't quite 100 days before my planned sniffing smoke journey, my plan is to go back to where this blog started with a catalogue of the 100 things I am truly truly going to miss about my newish found home in Rome. A few rules about this 100thing objective - 1) I won't be reading old blog posts, so expect some regurgitation as I summarize the best of the best of these last four years; 2) you know Italians don't like rules so I will post a few at a time or none at all, no schedule promised, just that I'm seeking to hit 100 before I high step out of here.
YouCallYourselfCapitalThoughts?
It's true that I quit this blog when I felt like I had no new material, but in fact I did keep traveling, albeit less regularly, and I owe it to those other capitals to share a few insights. I will feature a few guest capital moments in my countdown to saying Ciao for Now to Italy including: Amman, Kinshasa, Panama City, Copenhagen, Pattaya (I know it's not a capital per se, but it is the world capital of sex tourism so in my book of no rules, it qualifies), Colombo......
I invite you back to join me on this next adventure of saying goodbye to one capital and saying Good day (Ta? I mean what do they in British English?) to a new one.........As always I don't promise you good grammar, or basically anything else, other than the ability to read my capital thoughts.....
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Africa, shaken straight up with salt
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| This is Africa - I know this looks photoshopped in so many ways, just like Africa to do that |
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| This post was going to be called, 'I can spy if I want to' due to the amount of SIM cards, currencies, visas, adapters now in my possession. With Africa on spin dial (plus living in Europe with US contraptions) I still get confused, so I've created a compartment for each country - see anal later on, better known as my newfound survival |
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| Christmas presents - check! Just one half of my box filled with the toiletries I get on every flight. Anyone need some socks, a mask, toothpaste, lipgloss? Not pictured here, my many pairs of Aladdin inspired jammies - oh business class, I know I poo pooed you as a waste of money not long ago, but who can solve hunger if they don't have a magic carpet and fresh breath after a 12 hour flight? |
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| Sweet Salone - wasn't sure I'd ever be back and yet when I went, even sans Lidia there to guide me, it still felt like home. I can't describe the bizzaroville feeling of landing in Sierra Leone and feeling right at home, with a group of friends to call |
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| Salone, Lebanese party style - I've talked before about how proliferate the Lebanese are in SL. Well this time without Lidia there to guide me, I counted on the Lebanese to host me, and what better decision to make than a people that are born to host. In my week there we planned a new business (obvi) for them to open called 'Nostalgia', a cafe with real coffee and baked goods from every country's home - coming soon to Freetown!!! |
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| There's a lot of surreal moments these days - but leaving Freetown in a UN helicopter is pretty high up there. I'm still waiting for the pics with me steering with earmuffs on, coming soon. Thank you again Lebanon (or my Lebanese friend who works security for the UN) for hooking me up and sending me out on top of the world |
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| Malawi - has their head on straight, unfortunately no one seems to be working to put this saying to work |
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| Finally! Traveling in Africa with someone else! Ana my Croatian colleague and I enjoying Lake Malawi, while looking on our honeymoon |
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| Hiking to the top of Zomba Plateau, Malawi, also known as Queen Elizabeth point |
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| Looking skeptical on displayed cooking technologies - where's the Easybake oven?!!! |
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| Truer words were never written on the back of a truck |
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| Fav new band, just wish I had Follow the Mad tshirts to give them. If you're dying for Who Let the Dogs Out, these are your people - donation 1 dollar |
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| Getting around Malawi isn't easy if you don't own a car. But as I've learned, adopting a taxi driver smooths those bumpy roads. Here's Steve, who drove us for two days (4 hours each) and is studying in England to be a paramedic, but came home to Malawi to build himself a beach house. Best parts about Steve - you never have to guess where he's studying because he only wears Tshirts with England or the British flag; he gets both worlds and one day when the car died and it was dead of night, he disappeared to come back with four dudes in the middle of nowhere who rolled the car backward and he jumped it and I was so impressed and he laughed and said - this is Africa; and the best part about Steve is he loves Shania Twain. When I asked him if he would take a picture with us after 10 hours and two days together, he made me promise I wouldn't put it on Facebook. |
Africa roulette - It's hard to believe that it was just a year ago that I had never been to 'real' Africa (minus Tunisia the year before) and that I was told I was worth 20 cows by a friendly driver/turned into suitor. Remember when I said that no one would hire me for jobs in Africa because I had no experience in Africa - well it's sort of like bartending. No one will hire you without experience until they don't want to go to Sierra Leone (aka the Monday day shift). And as with bartending I went from the Monday dayshift to being thrown into Friday/Saturday nights with World Series playoff Redsox/Yankees games, upon which I woke up and thought my life is speeding in a direction out of control where I'm only awake from 2pm to 4am and my only nights off are Sundays and Mondays when no one else is available. I started to hate crowds, crave sunlight and intellectual talk. Traveling to Africa every two weeks to a different country is about the same. I find it hard to keep up/do the things I used to/talk to the people I want to because I'm constantly unpacking/debriefing and repacking/preparing and I crave tap water, boredom, and the ability to actually put my suitcase away. Be careful what you wish for, so they say
This is Africa - TIA is a term thrown about when all goes wrong or 'we' (no not the Royal we, but the UN we, basically the same) can't figure out how something could seem so clear to us and yet not be working - aka visitors trying to make sense of things and failing. I remember when Lidia used to say it or when I landed in Sierra Leone and thought, no it's derogatory - and no it doesn't have to be this hard, she's just tired or hasn't figured out another way to do things. Well flash forward and I take it all back. After managing two projects now in Africa, which both include coordinating 12 Ministries of the government - you will do things you never thought you would or swore you wouldn't/weren't necessary. Not sure what I mean? Well based on my experience (though still limited) you will not get anyone at your meeting even if they say they're going to be there and it's in their benefit unless a) you deliver an official invitation letter personally (because if not it may never actually arrive); b) you call each person YOURSELF and remind them twice that they said they were coming; c) you pay some sort of transport fee or at least provide lots of food. Just to be clear, this is not an OR situation. And yes you may be thinking - well you could delegate all of that, and yes I have gotten cocky and thought so myself - and then no one showed up. I still can't totally explain it, whether it's that when you call/invite people personally you develop a relationship and they feel that they owe you to show up in the end or whether it's the tasty snacks I've chosen; but it means doing two/three/four jobs at once - administration, coordination, caterer/hostess, and technical content. And now I know how Lidia got exhausted and just how important it is that your snacks are in fact tasty
Lions, and tigers, and bears, ho hum - I didn't realize it until my most recent trip to Malawi where my colleague Ana who is from Croatia and had never been to Africa (not even fake Africa in Tunisia) that Africa has become normal for me. At every turn she was ooohing and ahhhing about the scenery and the adorable babies and the frolicking baboons - and at one point I thought why I am not feeling this? And I realized that now when I go to Africa, it's like going to the office - I'm busy thinking about all the work there is to do and how to make things work and I've realized I need to /deserve to take more time to appreciate it every time and not let work eat up my appreciation for the life around me and to engage with it. After all, if it's not at least offering me it's glory/humbling me to my knees - why in the world (Africa) am I making myself dizzy traveling back and forth? On my most recent trip, on our weekend we headed to a mountain plateau and climbed to the tallest peak with views for miles and miles; and then went to Lake Malawi (imagine the Great Lakes, it seems like a sea it's so huge) and yet I wasn't able to totally disconnect from work and while Ana was ooohing and aahhing and making friends with child bands (named West Life Band, and yes they did a mean cover of "Who Let the Dogs Out" and an original tune named, "Hello, How are You?" all played on empty plastic bins and fishing wires, with their top age being 8), I was typing away and nodding and waving her on. And in that sense I was missing the point - just like needing to taste the margaritas at Cactus Club in order to sell them, without taking in the splendor of Africa it is much harder to find the inspiration to work for Africa. (ok that's the end of the deep stuff)
Traveling on speed - When I told a colleague who asked why I never post stories or pictures from my travels on Facebook, that I had a blog, she immediately assumed it was a travel blog full of tips. I quickly corrected her that it was more of an online diary of funny (at least to me) stories of my travels and tribulations. So I'm sorry that I haven't given you tips on the best restaurants, even though I did tell you about the keyhole. I will take a rare moment and share with you some of my traveling stand-bys; while telling you that I still always forget something on every trip, so take these tips like you would a margarita - with a bit of salt.
1) What were you thinking wearing a belt while traveling? Find a pair of pants that doesn't need a belt and those are your travel/airport pants. Seriously, if you're in front of me in security taking up time to take off/put on your belt - I hope your seat is next to the bathroom
2) Packing cubes - It may sound anal and you all know how I do love spreasheets, but seriously Alli Beall, you changed my life (in more ways than one but let's stick with the packing cubes for now). The ability to compartmentalize your travel attire when you're living out of a suitcase is huge. Oh that's my work clothes cube, and there's my 'I'm still thrilled by baboons cube', not to be confused by the 'dirty laundry cube' that saves you from embarrassing moments of airport security going through your dirty underwear.
3) A headlamp - I don't care if you're never leaving the states or you're the cousin of Edison - get a headlamp. It has saved my life countless times, and when I say life I mean getting to finish 50 shades of grey while respectfully letting Courtney sleep in the bed next to me.
4) Always wear a suit jacket while traveling - I don't care if you have a nightgown (nightwear for daywear) underneath, a suit jacket makes you business class (synonym = poised to demand an upgrade) with one item and saves you from folding/wrinkling/packing one more item. And there's nothing more satisfying than handing your suit jacket to the flight attendant to keep unwrinkled with a wink or a stern glare (u choose, you're business class after all!), while you slumber away in the sweats you wore under it.
5) Checking a bag is for amateurs - Please see wearing a belt and packing cubes above. Unless you're moving to another country or bringing gifts/food/perfume to satisfy your huge family/solve hunger/stamp out BO, you never need to check a bag - I promise. First of all, most of you reading this don't take trips of longer than 3 weeks tops, and second know that any country you're going to (other than Sierra Leone) has shops where you can buy whatever you forgot (except see headlamp above), and in the countries where you can't, all the better to live like a local and buy those sandals made of tires or dress yourself in the sheer joy that you're only schlepping a carry on.
And so as I continue to try and figure out how to have a real life in Rome, take in the splendor of Africa, keep connected with the US, and still get paid - I've decided to focus on my key tenets: 1) be kind; 2) speak plainly, directly, and honestly; 3) remember someone always has bigger problems and better jewelry 4) it's not that you fall but how you get up (without showing your underwear); and 5) wear stripes - and the rest will figure itself out - hopefully - at least there's still hope
Monday, April 15, 2013
Finding more than Luck in the Warm Heart of Africa
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| Who knew taking advantage of my delay in Addis Ababa to visit an ancient church would come in handy so much..... |
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| My saviour - Kumbali |
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| And I will need a divine intervention to figure out what to do about corn yields.... |
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| Hard (back) at work after government strikes delayed me and a last minute workshop change had me with low hopes for getting anything done and then a whole new meaning to 'strikes'.... |
After an unlucky start with getting stuck in Ethiopia due to government strikes, I finally made it to Malawi. Here's a few thoughts from my recent trip to the capital city, Lilongwe.....
Newsflash - Africa is Not All the Same: After reading that Malawi was deemed ‘Africa for beginners’, and was rated as one of the happiest places on earth, just after Bhutan (which has a happiness index) AND that it’s known as the Warm Heart of Africa – I was geared up for an easy breezy time. I also figured "I got this", I mean I have now been to four countries in Africa including my recent two day stint in Ethiopia and one week in (a hotel) in Rwanda, 'obviously' I'm now an expert. And if anything did go wrong I would just rely on my experience of braving and befriending Sierra Leone for six weeks. Well lesson number 1000 from Africa was quickly delivered....
One of the things I really enjoyed about Sierra Leone is the directness, laughter, and informalness/lack of seeming hierarchy with the people there – hence why it was easy for me to consider them my buddies. In Malawi, after our project partner in the government asked me who was coming on our next visit with me - I realized, ok they're not sold on my jokes (but really, who is) and I might need to find a new approach. Malawians are more reserved in their happiness, quiet, and very much appreciate and follow hierarchy. So I packed up all my back pats and giggles, and tried to find my soft spoken respectful, demurring voice. I'm not sure it was altogether convincing, but upon getting back to Italy, a few times I've been asked why I'm whispering.
One thing I couldn't wrap my head around the whole time I was there was how nice it was considering the statistics I had read (poverty, nutrition, wages, etc.), which are much worse than Sierra Leone. When you drive around the roads are good, there are gardens, office buildings are functioning, people are nicely dressed - and yet the average wage is less than 1 dollar per day. I'm a long way from figuring out Lilongwe (at least I can still make jokes here)....
Security in the Field: I had heard that brake-ins/crimes were on the rise since the currency had been devalued almost 50% in the last year. As much as I have made fun of the security tests that I’ve had to take (remember no photos with child soldiers), I figured in Malawi I would make to sure to follow the rules of sleeping only on the 2-7th floors, and always making sure there were bars on the windows/doors since one of my colleagues was robbed there in November. I was immediately thrown off when not only did I arrive just as the FAO office closed on a Friday afternoon so I wouldn’t be able to consult any local knowledge until Monday; and then I arrived at my FAO recommended hotel and there were only 1st floor rooms, and no bars. Hmmm, what to do, what to do - this wasn't on my computer test!!!!........On top of that, the hotel had canceled my reservation (due to my delay in arrival thanks to the strikes) and they were fumigating = not the warmest of landings. I had a minor moment where I acted like an uptight jerk, until Google calmed me down and Madonna stepped in.....
Luck Strikes: So after a bit of a shaky start, a Saturday work meeting with the Ministry (who said Africans weren't hard-working?), and a politely voiced dispute with the hotel over why I wanted to leave; I scaled my original plans to visit Lake Malawi and ride elephants down to just getting away from fumigation station. There had been a passenger on my stranded flight from Ethiopia who owned a lodge so I Googled to find it as she only told me 'country lodge', so I found a place called Kumbali Lodge and figured it was it - just outside the city advertising a cultural visit to communities, a working farm, and private bungalows = sold. Upon arrival at Kumbali, I immediately felt more relaxed even though I also realized it wasn't the lodge of my passenger friend, especially when I found out it was where Madonna stayed to adopt her babies. The staff alerted me to the community soccer game just down the road, so I set off for a nice stroll through corn fields and villages. The community was selling local crafts and I eyed a necklace that seemed like a nice mix between Africa and stylish. The vendor approved as he told me that it was made of seeds of a tree that change colors based on where the tree is planted and that the color I had chosen signifies luck of a well watered tree/location. I happily meandered about, decided I shouldn't join the soccer game after flashbacks to my 8th grade days as a goalie after forgetting my uniform, and meandered back to the lodge enjoying the bright sunny afternoon and proud of myself that I had made something out of a previously thought failed weekend. Within 100 yards of my bungalow, it started to rain and just as I stepped in my door and turned on the sink to wash my hands, I literally saw lightning in the sink while feeling the ground shake. I stepped outside and saw a man on the ground and a tree smoldering not ten feet from my room. Fast forward to all the power and internet being taken out by said lightning strike, and stories for the rest of my week there for how rare it was to have lightning in that time of year. The lodge gave me the piece of wood of the tree that had been struck and pulverized ten feet from where I was washing my hands and told me that it is believed to be good luck and full of positive energy. I had my doubts about passing it through customs but accepted it gratefully with hope for the seven days still left in my mission......And then I had full attendance at the workshop I planned even though we changed the date at the last minute (due to labour strikes) and the fact that we weren't even offering food = don't doubt the power of lightning.
All by Myself: Malawi was also my first Africa experience without the help of a locally based expat to guide me or any colleagues journeying with me, so as you heard above I was flailing blindly to find my way. Trying to negotiate Chichewa (Muli bwanji) is certainly not as easy as Krio when trying to adopt a taxi driver, but Malawians are also more reliable/responsible and I quickly found Frank to escort me about. In addition, I had a FAO driver for official meetings named James who became a fast friend, especially when I started exploring the option of buying a car in Malawi as a way to be more independent and then selling it to him at a reduced price when the project is over. Yes, I told you I was flailing not just to find my way, but also to find meaning in my work. James has six children and no car. And when I think about what/how I can really impact lives in Africa, this is much more tangible than my government policy writing that I'm not totally convinced will make it off a shelf. When I asked him if he thought my idea was crazy, he told me that what some people might think is crazy, others might think is a blessing from God.
So as a synopsis - I have yet to figure out Malawi after my first of four missions. But with Madonna, lightning, and God making an appearance in my first ten days, I can only imagine what spiritual awakening/quiet laughs are in store.....
Again sorry for the delay. I'm on Africa rotation right now, traveling every two weeks and it's a bit hard to catch my breath between Malawi, Sierra Leone (blog post coming soon), and Italian spring.....
Random observations:
-I've been transiting a lot through Belgium and France on my way to Africa and seriously French people love stripes
-Gelato is the equivalent of shorts in America on the first day that it is mildly above 50 degrees in Italy. Line around the block at my local gelateria after not seeing anyone there since October
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Rwandering and Rwondering
I mentioned in my 2012 review/2013 goals that I had a few travels coming up for work and a few places I wanted to see for Me. I knew that these two forces may work against each other, especially with my contract over the next six months including 50% time of travel. However, one benefit of two years of experience with FAO is that I've learned 1) planning doesn't mean much as all can/will change (throw your spreadsheets out the window); and 2) given item 1, if you don't carve out time for the things you want to do, they will disappear in a work abyss.
32 year old feet: You may remember one year ago when I was forced by work to alter my travel plans for skiing in the Alps in exchange for giving a presentation in Peru - ok maybe you don't remember, but either way I missed what was supposed to be a birthday weekend thanks to work and moving. Out of my last five birthdays, I have spent 4 in foreign countries by myself (not really, I mean I met strangers, found colleagues, made friends impromptu - but you get the picture, I wasn't with close friends or family) - and even though I knew I was going to have work travel coming up I promised myself that this year would be different. As I carefully scheduled my work travel to make sure I was not on the road, work reared it's head to conspire against me and combat my careful planning including 1) a trip to Rwanda to discuss land tenure issues with Anglophone countries of Africa; 2) Malawi project start. Now if you'd like to get your map out and see how close Malawi and Rwanda are to each other you would see that it makes total sense to combine these trips. And as a good warrior against hunger, I try to cut costs where I can in a sea of bureaucratic waste. But of course, all good planning on my side doesn't mean much when the forces of FAO and Africa are jointly at work; and in a true illustration of what these forces can illicit = proposed travel for 3 weeks over my birthday. My original 'plan' had been to conduct these trips in time to return for my birthday, and I had 'planned' to finally check the Dolomites off my list with a ski weekend away to celebrate. When I received the news, I hemmed and hawwed about whether I should just forgo my birthday/Dolomites for the greater good of cost savings - and then I looked at my foot and realized it was almost 32 and it was time to put it down.
So here's what my itinerary became:
Feb 10 -15 Rwanda
Feb 15 - 18 Dolomites
Feb 19 - March 2 Malawi
I realize this means I'm doing two roundtrip flights to Africa within 4 days of each other, and that it may not be normal to weekend in the north of Italy while working in Africa = but it's my birthday and i'll ski/celebrate with loved ones if I want to.
Rwhat?: In thinking of heading to Rwanda, I was excited because I was going to get to see my Sierra Leone government friends there; and yet at the same time I knew I wouldn't get to see much of the country because I would basically be in a hotel the whole time for a conference with no time for gorillas or hiking. And like, I'm sure, many of you, my only real knowledge of Rwanda was terrible genocide, so I wasn't sure what to expect. An avid reader of this blog after hearing I would be mostly in a hotel, suggested I title this post Hotel Rwanda, but after watching the film I decided I couldn't do that title justice/or make light of it. Here's a few of my insights from only three days there, mostly in a hotel with 100 Africans from 18 countries:
From Zero: I had heard from a friend who had worked in Rwanda that she really enjoyed it because they were such go-getters, especially in comparison with her current assignment in lackadaisical Tanzania (her words, not mine). I associated this with being post-conflict as my experience in Sierra Leone had shown me a similar willingness to move forward, so I was expecting something maybe a bit more advanced to SL considering a longer time having passed. There was no way I could have imagined though what met me - no litter, perfect roads including large sidewalks with abundant lighting, huge plush gardens with fountains at every rotary, and all street lights have numerical countdowns - no not for the crosswalks, but for the cars so you know how much time till it changes. It is hard to believe you are in Africa, and much less in a country demolished by violence just 15 years ago. What made all this more moving was seeing it in the company of Sierra Leoneans. The genocide in Rwanda was far worse (by numbers for one) than the conflict in Sierra Leone, and the country was truly decimated to zero both in morale and infrastructure, but to see where they've come is truly amazing and inspiring.
The land of a thousand (seemingly surmountable) hills: I kept thinking - but how? What's their secret? And not just how given where they've come from, but how in general given the rest of the norm in Africa? I haven't quite figured out the answer, but it seems to lie partly in the question - where they've come from. I was in a working group for the week with my friends from Sierra Leone, plus two men from South Sudan, and one from Zimbabwe and we all were similarly impressed, and I count myself lucky to experience Rwanda with people from other post-conflict countries. We may all wish at times for a clean slate to start over, and Rwanda turned a tragedy into just that. They went as far as even changing the language from one day to the next from French to English to break with the bitterness of French involvement in the genocide, and also to be more closely aligned with their East African Anglophone neighbors. This has interesting implications on the ground as you have a younger population fluent in English, an older generation befuddled with French/English, and a population of displaced people that returned who were educated outside. In my few days there, I tried to ask as many people, both Rwandans and foreigners, as I could how they've been so successful at achieving such growth/peace/development and it has largely come down to political will. Westerners would tell you it's an overly top-down approach of government advancing it's objectives, while Rwandans seem to be happy with the direction and progress. One thing, especially after visiting the Genocide Memorial (the one item of tourism I had time for) that I can't get my head around is how they're able to live together again and work together to achieve such things. With 1 million people killed in a country of 10 million, with one of the highest densities in Africa - you can imagine that the genocide touched each person's life. On the way to the Memorial a local FAO colleague said, "You'll see my children there". He lost two children under 8 to machetes. I had a hard time even going through the whole memorial as it is so horrific, and I still can't get my head around how they've managed so much. Africa continues to teach me perspective and inspire me.
SL buddies: I mentioned that I was most excited for this trip to reunite with my SL gov't friends - one who went on the visits to communities with us, and one who has been particularly engaged and moving things ahead while we've been absent these last six months. One of the things I most enjoy about the Sierra Leoneans is their lack of a filter, which makes them dually very approachable and refreshing. I had arranged with the SLs to go to dinner to celebrate our presentation at the workshop and our renewed funding for our project there, and on my way to the lobby I ran into some FAO colleagues who were heading to dinner at Milles Collines (the hotel in Hotel Rwanda) and they invited me so I asked if the SLs could come and similarly asked if the SLs wanted to go - they both said yes. We were excited to visit the site of the film and to learn more about the history of how they had reopened since the genocide. However, after my SL friends inquired with the waiter on the history; one of the local British expats who had joined us for dinner was shocked and disturbed and interjected that they should not be inquiring such things (even saying there could be spies), which I then had to explain to my SL friends. I left the dinner feeling embarrassed that they may have offended the Rwandans, and then the next morning I thought - no, who am I (or the British expat) to tell the SLs who have been through terrible conflict to tell them what they should or shouldn't ask in their genuine interest. So again, Africa teaching me lessons about tolerance, sensitivity, curiosity, and Western ideas.
With this long, unfunny post I feel like I shouldn't torture you more, so I won't go into my adventurous flight to Kigali including 10 landing attempts, a reroute and retakeoff from Burundi, other than that I'm so glad I learned patience. I will say it is the first time I actually thought my plane could crash.
So I left Rwanda, returned to Rome and 6 hours later flew to Venice for a weekend skiing in the Dolomites, I checked out what 32 looks like, and headed back to Rome and left to fly to Malawi 22 hours later. I flew to Addis Ababa from Rome for my connection to Malawi, and was informed that the Malawi airport is closed due to widespread government strikes. I'm now on my second day in Addis after another attempt to fly out today. So the adventure, and appreciation of patience continues as of the last 12 days I have been at an airport 8 of them. When life hands you layover/stranded flight, gorge on Ethiopian buffet......
**photos coming soon
32 year old feet: You may remember one year ago when I was forced by work to alter my travel plans for skiing in the Alps in exchange for giving a presentation in Peru - ok maybe you don't remember, but either way I missed what was supposed to be a birthday weekend thanks to work and moving. Out of my last five birthdays, I have spent 4 in foreign countries by myself (not really, I mean I met strangers, found colleagues, made friends impromptu - but you get the picture, I wasn't with close friends or family) - and even though I knew I was going to have work travel coming up I promised myself that this year would be different. As I carefully scheduled my work travel to make sure I was not on the road, work reared it's head to conspire against me and combat my careful planning including 1) a trip to Rwanda to discuss land tenure issues with Anglophone countries of Africa; 2) Malawi project start. Now if you'd like to get your map out and see how close Malawi and Rwanda are to each other you would see that it makes total sense to combine these trips. And as a good warrior against hunger, I try to cut costs where I can in a sea of bureaucratic waste. But of course, all good planning on my side doesn't mean much when the forces of FAO and Africa are jointly at work; and in a true illustration of what these forces can illicit = proposed travel for 3 weeks over my birthday. My original 'plan' had been to conduct these trips in time to return for my birthday, and I had 'planned' to finally check the Dolomites off my list with a ski weekend away to celebrate. When I received the news, I hemmed and hawwed about whether I should just forgo my birthday/Dolomites for the greater good of cost savings - and then I looked at my foot and realized it was almost 32 and it was time to put it down.
So here's what my itinerary became:
Feb 10 -15 Rwanda
Feb 15 - 18 Dolomites
Feb 19 - March 2 Malawi
I realize this means I'm doing two roundtrip flights to Africa within 4 days of each other, and that it may not be normal to weekend in the north of Italy while working in Africa = but it's my birthday and i'll ski/celebrate with loved ones if I want to.
Rwhat?: In thinking of heading to Rwanda, I was excited because I was going to get to see my Sierra Leone government friends there; and yet at the same time I knew I wouldn't get to see much of the country because I would basically be in a hotel the whole time for a conference with no time for gorillas or hiking. And like, I'm sure, many of you, my only real knowledge of Rwanda was terrible genocide, so I wasn't sure what to expect. An avid reader of this blog after hearing I would be mostly in a hotel, suggested I title this post Hotel Rwanda, but after watching the film I decided I couldn't do that title justice/or make light of it. Here's a few of my insights from only three days there, mostly in a hotel with 100 Africans from 18 countries:
From Zero: I had heard from a friend who had worked in Rwanda that she really enjoyed it because they were such go-getters, especially in comparison with her current assignment in lackadaisical Tanzania (her words, not mine). I associated this with being post-conflict as my experience in Sierra Leone had shown me a similar willingness to move forward, so I was expecting something maybe a bit more advanced to SL considering a longer time having passed. There was no way I could have imagined though what met me - no litter, perfect roads including large sidewalks with abundant lighting, huge plush gardens with fountains at every rotary, and all street lights have numerical countdowns - no not for the crosswalks, but for the cars so you know how much time till it changes. It is hard to believe you are in Africa, and much less in a country demolished by violence just 15 years ago. What made all this more moving was seeing it in the company of Sierra Leoneans. The genocide in Rwanda was far worse (by numbers for one) than the conflict in Sierra Leone, and the country was truly decimated to zero both in morale and infrastructure, but to see where they've come is truly amazing and inspiring.
The land of a thousand (seemingly surmountable) hills: I kept thinking - but how? What's their secret? And not just how given where they've come from, but how in general given the rest of the norm in Africa? I haven't quite figured out the answer, but it seems to lie partly in the question - where they've come from. I was in a working group for the week with my friends from Sierra Leone, plus two men from South Sudan, and one from Zimbabwe and we all were similarly impressed, and I count myself lucky to experience Rwanda with people from other post-conflict countries. We may all wish at times for a clean slate to start over, and Rwanda turned a tragedy into just that. They went as far as even changing the language from one day to the next from French to English to break with the bitterness of French involvement in the genocide, and also to be more closely aligned with their East African Anglophone neighbors. This has interesting implications on the ground as you have a younger population fluent in English, an older generation befuddled with French/English, and a population of displaced people that returned who were educated outside. In my few days there, I tried to ask as many people, both Rwandans and foreigners, as I could how they've been so successful at achieving such growth/peace/development and it has largely come down to political will. Westerners would tell you it's an overly top-down approach of government advancing it's objectives, while Rwandans seem to be happy with the direction and progress. One thing, especially after visiting the Genocide Memorial (the one item of tourism I had time for) that I can't get my head around is how they're able to live together again and work together to achieve such things. With 1 million people killed in a country of 10 million, with one of the highest densities in Africa - you can imagine that the genocide touched each person's life. On the way to the Memorial a local FAO colleague said, "You'll see my children there". He lost two children under 8 to machetes. I had a hard time even going through the whole memorial as it is so horrific, and I still can't get my head around how they've managed so much. Africa continues to teach me perspective and inspire me.
SL buddies: I mentioned that I was most excited for this trip to reunite with my SL gov't friends - one who went on the visits to communities with us, and one who has been particularly engaged and moving things ahead while we've been absent these last six months. One of the things I most enjoy about the Sierra Leoneans is their lack of a filter, which makes them dually very approachable and refreshing. I had arranged with the SLs to go to dinner to celebrate our presentation at the workshop and our renewed funding for our project there, and on my way to the lobby I ran into some FAO colleagues who were heading to dinner at Milles Collines (the hotel in Hotel Rwanda) and they invited me so I asked if the SLs could come and similarly asked if the SLs wanted to go - they both said yes. We were excited to visit the site of the film and to learn more about the history of how they had reopened since the genocide. However, after my SL friends inquired with the waiter on the history; one of the local British expats who had joined us for dinner was shocked and disturbed and interjected that they should not be inquiring such things (even saying there could be spies), which I then had to explain to my SL friends. I left the dinner feeling embarrassed that they may have offended the Rwandans, and then the next morning I thought - no, who am I (or the British expat) to tell the SLs who have been through terrible conflict to tell them what they should or shouldn't ask in their genuine interest. So again, Africa teaching me lessons about tolerance, sensitivity, curiosity, and Western ideas.
With this long, unfunny post I feel like I shouldn't torture you more, so I won't go into my adventurous flight to Kigali including 10 landing attempts, a reroute and retakeoff from Burundi, other than that I'm so glad I learned patience. I will say it is the first time I actually thought my plane could crash.
So I left Rwanda, returned to Rome and 6 hours later flew to Venice for a weekend skiing in the Dolomites, I checked out what 32 looks like, and headed back to Rome and left to fly to Malawi 22 hours later. I flew to Addis Ababa from Rome for my connection to Malawi, and was informed that the Malawi airport is closed due to widespread government strikes. I'm now on my second day in Addis after another attempt to fly out today. So the adventure, and appreciation of patience continues as of the last 12 days I have been at an airport 8 of them. When life hands you layover/stranded flight, gorge on Ethiopian buffet......
**photos coming soon
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Le Regole
I've written before about 'the rules' that Italians have for living life, but after being given a book recently by always-a-super-hero-Laura and now after dating an Italian for the last six months, I have an even greater perspective.
Book (title, Italians Dance While I'm a Wallflower): First impression, where were you 2 years ago when I was in desperate culture shock googling for books on adjusting to life in Italy and all I could find were rehabing farmhouses in Tuscany, cookbooks, and how to fall in love on the back of a scooter? And yes, this book had been published two years ago but has a super obscure unhelpful title for those in need.....Second impression, pissed - apparently a lot of my jokes and impressions are not that original, however I still have a few thoughts not noted by this Italian/American author......
America(n) Rules: At a recent dinner with Giorgio's family, Laura was regaling her parents with one of her favorite chapters called 'non se fa' or 'it's not done'. More on that in a second, but their father turned to me and said, "And what are some of your rules in America?" And I was stumped. So then I said, "La unica regola che abbiamo e che non abbiamo le regole" "The only rule we have is that we don't have rules", let freedom ring. But then I went home and thought, no there must be one I can think of - but nope (feel free to chime in here). And after some more jaunt-pondering I've concluded that at our core we are rule breakers, it is part of our founding on Revolution and why we get along so well with Australians (for reference a former penal colony, they really hate rules but have a better sense of humour). Within the same week, a Croatian colleague asked me about why we're so informal in the workplace - not in terms of dressing but in terms of hierarchy/greetings/relationships - and so I thought again. We chafe at the very idea, and are proud to scoff in the face, of rules, thinking we'll make our own, I mean have you seen what we built since 1776? So when you take an American who is used to rules-schmoolsing around and place them in Italy = chafe city
Le Regole: So we've discussed some Italian rules before that I learned soon after arrival like 1) no cappucicno (or any coffee with any large amount of milk) after lunch - remember your digestion is at stake; 2) no cheese with fish - yeah that means you scampi, don't even try it with the parmesan - because clearly cheese overtakes the flavour of the fish. I sometimes try to imagine an Italian eating tuna noodle casserole and explode into a fit of smirks; 3) no walking barefoot - even if you were just hanging clothes up to dry and were unwittingly locked out of your apartment, everyone will think your bare feet are a more desperate situation than your ability to enter your home, and so on. At the same time there's a lot of rules I learned that I can really get behind - 1) wine must be available at every dinner (check); 2) amaro aids digestion and must follow every meal (this includes limoncello, grappa, amaro, mirto and yes I do actually think fire liquid helps dissolve your meal and have really grown to like the taste); 3) you never have to damsel in distress because no matter what, you will always be allowed to walk through a door first (unless there is danger, then he will go first but just to check that it's ok for you to pass) and you don't have to make decisions if you don't want to or open any doors or basically do anything requiring manual labor. But I didn't realize that while I've been obediently obeying (and embracing some) Italian rules like any good culturally aware transplant - that I've been breaking so many others. I recently learned that it's unheard of in Italy to eat any meal - doesn't matter if you're by yourself and it's a weekday breakfast where you scarf down a coffee - you have to use a tablecloth, and worst case scenario a placemat, which fittingly in Italy they call "tovaglia americana" or American tablecloth. Seriously? You're lucky I sit down to drink my coffee in the morning versus walking to work with it in a to-go mug, and now you want me to put down a tablecloth? I also take offense at the use of 'American' to name a placemat. And I could go on with these types of rules.....but add to that dating rules, where I was really out of any familiar territory and sought immediate guidance. I thus received the following advice - 1) in Italy we don't date multiple people, as soon as you kiss someone you're going steady; 2) we don't meet someone's family until it's really serious, like you're getting married (both untrue but also unproven by me). Lucky for me, Giorgio somehow doesn't care much for the rules (he's even fine with me having a cappuccino after lunch, which I never do of course, but nice to know that I could), but this also means I continue to offend other Italians since he doesn't correct me, with my uncovered table and my browsing in shops (yes, you should know before you go in what you want, and if you dare to try things on without purchasing, prepare for an earful). One of the hardest things for me to comprehend is that these aren't just 'customs', like 'this is how we do it, but we know people do it another way'. No, these are facts. I quickly learned you can't argue these points, because to Italians there is a scientific basis for not drinking milk in your coffee after lunch or swimming in a lake; and when you think it's safe to have a fun cultural laugh - it's not, it will be like you're questioning the positioning of the sun (ahem Copernicus).
The Rule of (un)Law: What makes this all more funny (to me, not to Italians) is the fact that as strict as Italians are about cultural rules, there is a practically a cultural edit to get around the law. This takes many forms - 1) driving- which I've told you about before and how fun it can be as a transplant since apparently you don't have to learn the rules cause the whole point is to break them - good times, that is, until they're not; 2) taxes - you may have heard about Italy's financial woes, well it has a bit to do with the fact that Italians are very creative about paying them and not because they don't like obeying the law (they love rules!) but because they know their government isn't following the rules about how they use their taxes, so why should they willingly hand over their money. As further evidence I pay my rent of over 1000 euro per month in cash and have signed a contract saying I live here for free as a result of a new law requiring Italians to claim their income in more detail; 3) police - to shorten this story, I'll just give you two examples, Amanda Knox and the Monster of Florence, both of which (without talking about guilt) don't make me eager to deal with the Italian justice system.
So after pondering this, I found my answer - Italians are the fathers of the renaissance (science, art, fashion, etc.) and their traditions have made them who they are. Americans are the fathers of Revolution (yeah I went there) and freedom runs deep through the veins of all that we do (pls see Jell-O, Hamburger Helper, KrisKross, etc.). And yet - Italians have learned that survival means getting around the rules (laws) and Americans while we may cling to freedom, the one rule we have may be order (yeah, do not stand up before the plane has reached the gate; and yes, there is a line here) and while we might complain, for the most part we believe in the following and functioning of a system that we created by uprising. So to break it down for you = Italians love rules but don't follow laws; Americans don't believe in rules (acc)except when they are laws.
And with that, yes I recently bought some placemats and cringed when the stall owner called them American tablecloths.
Book (title, Italians Dance While I'm a Wallflower): First impression, where were you 2 years ago when I was in desperate culture shock googling for books on adjusting to life in Italy and all I could find were rehabing farmhouses in Tuscany, cookbooks, and how to fall in love on the back of a scooter? And yes, this book had been published two years ago but has a super obscure unhelpful title for those in need.....Second impression, pissed - apparently a lot of my jokes and impressions are not that original, however I still have a few thoughts not noted by this Italian/American author......
America(n) Rules: At a recent dinner with Giorgio's family, Laura was regaling her parents with one of her favorite chapters called 'non se fa' or 'it's not done'. More on that in a second, but their father turned to me and said, "And what are some of your rules in America?" And I was stumped. So then I said, "La unica regola che abbiamo e che non abbiamo le regole" "The only rule we have is that we don't have rules", let freedom ring. But then I went home and thought, no there must be one I can think of - but nope (feel free to chime in here). And after some more jaunt-pondering I've concluded that at our core we are rule breakers, it is part of our founding on Revolution and why we get along so well with Australians (for reference a former penal colony, they really hate rules but have a better sense of humour). Within the same week, a Croatian colleague asked me about why we're so informal in the workplace - not in terms of dressing but in terms of hierarchy/greetings/relationships - and so I thought again. We chafe at the very idea, and are proud to scoff in the face, of rules, thinking we'll make our own, I mean have you seen what we built since 1776? So when you take an American who is used to rules-schmoolsing around and place them in Italy = chafe city
Le Regole: So we've discussed some Italian rules before that I learned soon after arrival like 1) no cappucicno (or any coffee with any large amount of milk) after lunch - remember your digestion is at stake; 2) no cheese with fish - yeah that means you scampi, don't even try it with the parmesan - because clearly cheese overtakes the flavour of the fish. I sometimes try to imagine an Italian eating tuna noodle casserole and explode into a fit of smirks; 3) no walking barefoot - even if you were just hanging clothes up to dry and were unwittingly locked out of your apartment, everyone will think your bare feet are a more desperate situation than your ability to enter your home, and so on. At the same time there's a lot of rules I learned that I can really get behind - 1) wine must be available at every dinner (check); 2) amaro aids digestion and must follow every meal (this includes limoncello, grappa, amaro, mirto and yes I do actually think fire liquid helps dissolve your meal and have really grown to like the taste); 3) you never have to damsel in distress because no matter what, you will always be allowed to walk through a door first (unless there is danger, then he will go first but just to check that it's ok for you to pass) and you don't have to make decisions if you don't want to or open any doors or basically do anything requiring manual labor. But I didn't realize that while I've been obediently obeying (and embracing some) Italian rules like any good culturally aware transplant - that I've been breaking so many others. I recently learned that it's unheard of in Italy to eat any meal - doesn't matter if you're by yourself and it's a weekday breakfast where you scarf down a coffee - you have to use a tablecloth, and worst case scenario a placemat, which fittingly in Italy they call "tovaglia americana" or American tablecloth. Seriously? You're lucky I sit down to drink my coffee in the morning versus walking to work with it in a to-go mug, and now you want me to put down a tablecloth? I also take offense at the use of 'American' to name a placemat. And I could go on with these types of rules.....but add to that dating rules, where I was really out of any familiar territory and sought immediate guidance. I thus received the following advice - 1) in Italy we don't date multiple people, as soon as you kiss someone you're going steady; 2) we don't meet someone's family until it's really serious, like you're getting married (both untrue but also unproven by me). Lucky for me, Giorgio somehow doesn't care much for the rules (he's even fine with me having a cappuccino after lunch, which I never do of course, but nice to know that I could), but this also means I continue to offend other Italians since he doesn't correct me, with my uncovered table and my browsing in shops (yes, you should know before you go in what you want, and if you dare to try things on without purchasing, prepare for an earful). One of the hardest things for me to comprehend is that these aren't just 'customs', like 'this is how we do it, but we know people do it another way'. No, these are facts. I quickly learned you can't argue these points, because to Italians there is a scientific basis for not drinking milk in your coffee after lunch or swimming in a lake; and when you think it's safe to have a fun cultural laugh - it's not, it will be like you're questioning the positioning of the sun (ahem Copernicus).
The Rule of (un)Law: What makes this all more funny (to me, not to Italians) is the fact that as strict as Italians are about cultural rules, there is a practically a cultural edit to get around the law. This takes many forms - 1) driving- which I've told you about before and how fun it can be as a transplant since apparently you don't have to learn the rules cause the whole point is to break them - good times, that is, until they're not; 2) taxes - you may have heard about Italy's financial woes, well it has a bit to do with the fact that Italians are very creative about paying them and not because they don't like obeying the law (they love rules!) but because they know their government isn't following the rules about how they use their taxes, so why should they willingly hand over their money. As further evidence I pay my rent of over 1000 euro per month in cash and have signed a contract saying I live here for free as a result of a new law requiring Italians to claim their income in more detail; 3) police - to shorten this story, I'll just give you two examples, Amanda Knox and the Monster of Florence, both of which (without talking about guilt) don't make me eager to deal with the Italian justice system.
So after pondering this, I found my answer - Italians are the fathers of the renaissance (science, art, fashion, etc.) and their traditions have made them who they are. Americans are the fathers of Revolution (yeah I went there) and freedom runs deep through the veins of all that we do (pls see Jell-O, Hamburger Helper, KrisKross, etc.). And yet - Italians have learned that survival means getting around the rules (laws) and Americans while we may cling to freedom, the one rule we have may be order (yeah, do not stand up before the plane has reached the gate; and yes, there is a line here) and while we might complain, for the most part we believe in the following and functioning of a system that we created by uprising. So to break it down for you = Italians love rules but don't follow laws; Americans don't believe in rules (acc)except when they are laws.
And with that, yes I recently bought some placemats and cringed when the stall owner called them American tablecloths.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
They Weren't Lying - It really is eternal
Top Hits - What did I do in 2012 if not keep up this blog?
I guess now that I'm still here one year later, I can't keep up with the fairy tale theme for the year in review, especially since 2012 has shown me that in more ways than I could imagine, how to return to 'real life'. Here's a bit of a year in review of what I've been up to, top hits, and ideas for what's next in the eternal city........
 |
| After starting 2012 off with a bang.... |
 |
| and a lot of laughs...I returned to life in Rome and in 2012 I.... |
1. Solved World Hunger
 |
| Pujehun, Sierra Leone |
 |
| Ok far from it, but at least I got initiated to Africa with the scars to prove it.... |
 |
| Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania |
 |
| Learned my worth in cattle while trying goat for the first time |
2. Circled the Globe
 |
| Thanks to these two for giving me the best reason to do so and return to the land of superlatives |
 |
| And yep, it was still true one year after leaving, and still true today. Even after 'circling the globe' and seeing a plethora of places, there really is no place like NZed |
3. Climbed some Mountains |
| Freezing even with bubbling lava at the top of Mt Etna, Sicily |
 |
| Hiking Mom style in Ravello, Italy |
 |
| Conquering Italy's finest peaks with Banana Trekking in Abruzzo, Italy |
4. Traversed America
 |
| Since I did circle the globe and all, I figured I owed it to America to at least circle it as well, including a few places I'd never been like dinosaur country, Utah |
 |
| I had to check out the karaoke in Big Sur, California |
 |
| and check out the pioneer towns of Oklahoma City, |
 |
| and visit all of my siblings in their hometowns including the president's tour of the fraternity house in Davis, California 5. Became a PortuGAL |
 |
| With some of my very favorite gals |
 |
| While learning to appreciate the wonders of port, whether in a kayak, on a bike, or in a robe |
6. Introduced Momo Beall to Europe
 |
| While honing my bike-riding skills in Amsterdam and |
 |
| And my gelato eating skills in Positano |
7. Oh I moved a few times
 |
| And got better acquainted with my stuff and the many neighborhoods of Rome |
8. Became more Italian
 |
| Whether it can be attributed to relaxing on wagons in Matera or |
 |
| Frolicking (yes I know it looks like mooning) in Agrigento or |
 |
| All that research I did or.. |
 |
| Sipping wine on the streets of Rome or |
 |
| agreeing to Follow the Mad with this guy. |
 |
| People said in order to really learn Italian I had to get an Italian boyfriend, well fine.More to come on all I've learned for agreeing to that request 9. I rode a Segway |
 |
| Enough said 10. And somehow after/through all that there was still quality Beall and buds time (apologies that I can't fit all of it here) |
 |
| Beachtime bonding, only to be topped by winetime bonding, for which this Beall is an expert and a generous host |
 |
| First mate and the skipper in Berkeley, CA |
.JPG) |
| Beall spawn unite in San Diego - when did I become the shortest?? |
 |
| Sea frolicking while receiving fatherly wisdom |
 |
| Do not, and I repeat DO NOT get in the way of this lady and Lincoln |
 |
| Family wardrobe gimmicks |
 |
| From NYC nights..... |
 |
| To DC reunions... |
 |
| To hometown brew tours.... |
2012 stats
- 12 countries visited (some repeats, don't get too excited)
-Of 365 days, I was in Italy 195 days, so it's not actually fair to say I've lived here 2 years
- 5 contracts with FAO
- 4 apartments in 4 neighborhoods
- 8 Italian mountains hiked
- 16 jobs applied for, 10 interviews, 0 'real' job offers (something is wrong with me, all comments are very welcome)
- 5 contracts with FAO
- 4 apartments in 4 neighborhoods
- 8 Italian mountains hiked
- 16 jobs applied for, 10 interviews, 0 'real' job offers (something is wrong with me, all comments are very welcome)
-5 times I was told I spoke English well
2013 - What's in Store?
-at least 3 more countries already on the books
-skiing in the Dolomites and Abruzzo
-going to the beach in Puglia
-running a marathon
-getting a new job
-at least monthly blogging - I promise
-skiing in the Dolomites and Abruzzo
-going to the beach in Puglia
-running a marathon
-getting a new job
-at least monthly blogging - I promise
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