I usually try to keep my posts upbeat, informative, and hopefully entertaining, but I need to take a minute to acknowledge the hardest circumstance I've faced yet.
My mom had a heart-attack on Saturday, Feb 13th. She was giving a school presentation when the begining stages of the heart-attach come on. She, of course, finished her presentation (and was told she got an A) and then decided to go drive herself to the doctor because the pain she was feeling was something she never experienced before. She called me swearing it was just indigestion, but thought it would be best to check it out while the Kaiser office was still open. She arrived, they did an EKG and rushed her to Good Samaritans Hospital.
The decision she made to go to the hospital saved her life. She called me to let me know what was going on. At this point it was approx. 10:30pm in Germany. I was very worried and told her I would be awake until I heard from her again with an update.
Long story short - she had a spontaneous dissection of the circumflex artery. This is a very rare type of heart attack which resulted in all the cardiologists/cardiac surgeons meeting to decide what to do for her. They decided it would be best to try and stent the artery's affected by the dissection. One stent worked and the other two failed, resulting in one collapsed artery and the other barely functioning.
Once the doctors realized there wasn't much they could do without making the problems worse, they decided to let my mom have the heart attack and monitor her closely...
There was a critical 48 hour window that I didn't know about until the 3rd day after the "event". My mom has survived yet another traumatic medical procedure/event and is expected to make a near-full recovery (aside from the heart damage sustained due to the heart attack).
What is a girl to do? I'm in Germany - at minimum 30 hours away from reaching her. At the time of all the commotion on day 1 - I was told she had an "crucial 8 hour window" where they were really concerned for her life. Even if I had all the money in the world - I wouldn't be able to reach her in time. It was the worst feeling I've ever had. I was completely helpless, alone, and thinking (very dangerous for girls when they are emotional).
The one thing that I prayed would not happen during my "oversees experience" was that my family fall ill or become seriously injured. Of course you hope things like this never happen - but you REALLY hope they don't happen while your so far away.
This last week was a huge eye opener for me. To be completely honest, I still don't know if I made the right decision.
What was my decision, you ask? Well, ironically I was already scheduled to fly home on Feb. 19th for 8 days for family visit and a few days of work stuff. The travel was booked approx 6 weeks ago and everything was set. Then you get "the call". Should I leave the second I hear of an illness or injury? Should I wait? Will I totally regret my decision? Am I over-reacting? Well, given the circumstances, and what I was told of the "critical 8 hour window", I decided to wait and see what happened... You have to keep in mind that a flight from Europe to Denver usually takes around 20 hours on average. I didn't want to put myself out-of-reach for the next day, so I waited.
My mom survived like she always does... and thank goodness. I just don't know what I would have done if something went terribly wrong and I didn't get to see her again.
Not to sound to hallmark-y, but wow - you really need to make every moment count, don't go to bed angry - or in my case - don't leave the country angry and talk often.
I love my family more than they know. I know life isn't fair, and I know we can't prevent the unexpected, but if I can prevent the feelings I've felt over the past week, I will.
Amore a tutti e grazie per il tuo prayers
Buona notte~
Jamie
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
And then he said...
"questo sono inventzione"
Wait, wait (Aspetta, aspetta) let me start from the beginning...
I arrive back from my vacation in the states to find a small crack in the ceiling of my entry way (which is near the bathroom) and in my bathroom there is a yellow stained ceiling and a small tear in the "drywall" or whatever it is that they use here which seems to be the result of a water leak "from above". There are four levels in my building, I live on the third. Therefore, if all things are logical in the world, its safe to assume something is leaking from my neighbors above. Let me just take this moment to say how excited I was for having the opportunity to experience first hand how problems like this are handled in Italy. Some prefer a hole in the head...
OK. Long story short, it took me one week and a lot of "hard" (physically and mentally) Italian conversations with my portinaio (i.e. grounds keeper) to find out what the proper process is to handle issues like this. Silly me... assuming there is such a process... I know better by now.
OK. So my apt is leased through my company (i.e. they signed the dotted line) so all issues are suppose to route through them. The girl I was working with was "molto occupato" very occupied/busy and just couldn't get around to making the call to my "landlord". Everyone I told about the "leak" said, "Don't let that wait" or "That is a big problem" or "Ah, very urgent". YA THINK! Geez! Finally, once a different lady "took over" I got an apt right away.
It is now 8:30am Monday morning, February 1st. My buzzer rings. Its Signora Terabucci (I believe she is 70-something yrs old and is the current "landlord" or "owner" of my apt) and another gentleman (who we will call "Luigi" b/c I can't remember his name). Luigi is some sort of contractor or something - I assumed. They come in and first I point to the ceiling in the entry way. Signora Terabucci looks up and says, "Oh mio dio, terribile, mamma mia". I then walk them into my bathroom hesitantly, worried the little old Italian lady was going to have a heart attack (as the bathroom was much, much worse) and pointed to the ceiling again. I think she had a minor heart attach... she started talking really fast and saying some really bad words about my neighbors above. It is safe to assume she has had similar problems in the past with these particular people.
Then she asks me "Quando" which implied the question, "When did this happen" I told her I was on vacation and when I got home on January 7th, this is what I saw. She flipped out asking me why it took so long for me to call her and how urgent of a matter this was... I didn't have the energy or patience to remind her that the country we currently live in functions completely and totally without process or any sense of urgency. So instead I told her my office needed to call (in broken Italian). She didn't understand and that is par for the course... I just smiled.
After some poking and prodding of the bathroom ceiling, Luigi goes upstairs to see if my neighbors were home. Five minutes later Luigi comes back with two more Italian men. Hey look at that, its my neighbors I've never met. I now have three Italian men and Signora Terabucci in my little apartment. The two neighbors see Signora Terabucci and one of them (we will call "Mario") immediately rolled his eyes a put his hands in a praying position and shaking them up and down ( a VERY common expression used to emphasis the current emotions their feeling - I call it "Talking with hands").
The two men have the opportunity to inspect the "problem at hand". They are all talking at the same time and the decibel level begins to rise. I think to myself, "If three of you would just shut up for two seconds and listen I could probably get to work a lot quicker". It is not how they do things here - in general. The culture is very consistent in this manner - they talk over eachother constantly. I hear Mario say in Italian "It could be your leak, it could be my leak, we do not know." There goes any hope for the logical approach I mentioned earlier. Signora Terabucci goes off and you could tell she was throwing accusations all over the place.... very entertaining but not helpful, and this is when Mario says, "questo sono inventzione" which translates exactly to "That you are inventing." I laughed out loud.
After a lot more bickering, hundreds of pictures and each of them walking in and out of my bathroom (very very small bathroom) 10-15 times each, the result was that Signora Terabucci would contact her lawyer and send the "proper documentation" to my neighbors insisting they investigate the leak, and if confirmed it is their leak - they fix it.
There is a small chance my ceiling will be fixed before my 4th floor neighbors become roommates.
I will NEVER start a Monday that way again. I will wait until at least Tuesday - believe me it is worth it.
Amore a tutti! Buona notte e ciao!
Jme
Wait, wait (Aspetta, aspetta) let me start from the beginning...
I arrive back from my vacation in the states to find a small crack in the ceiling of my entry way (which is near the bathroom) and in my bathroom there is a yellow stained ceiling and a small tear in the "drywall" or whatever it is that they use here which seems to be the result of a water leak "from above". There are four levels in my building, I live on the third. Therefore, if all things are logical in the world, its safe to assume something is leaking from my neighbors above. Let me just take this moment to say how excited I was for having the opportunity to experience first hand how problems like this are handled in Italy. Some prefer a hole in the head...
OK. Long story short, it took me one week and a lot of "hard" (physically and mentally) Italian conversations with my portinaio (i.e. grounds keeper) to find out what the proper process is to handle issues like this. Silly me... assuming there is such a process... I know better by now.
OK. So my apt is leased through my company (i.e. they signed the dotted line) so all issues are suppose to route through them. The girl I was working with was "molto occupato" very occupied/busy and just couldn't get around to making the call to my "landlord". Everyone I told about the "leak" said, "Don't let that wait" or "That is a big problem" or "Ah, very urgent". YA THINK! Geez! Finally, once a different lady "took over" I got an apt right away.
It is now 8:30am Monday morning, February 1st. My buzzer rings. Its Signora Terabucci (I believe she is 70-something yrs old and is the current "landlord" or "owner" of my apt) and another gentleman (who we will call "Luigi" b/c I can't remember his name). Luigi is some sort of contractor or something - I assumed. They come in and first I point to the ceiling in the entry way. Signora Terabucci looks up and says, "Oh mio dio, terribile, mamma mia". I then walk them into my bathroom hesitantly, worried the little old Italian lady was going to have a heart attack (as the bathroom was much, much worse) and pointed to the ceiling again. I think she had a minor heart attach... she started talking really fast and saying some really bad words about my neighbors above. It is safe to assume she has had similar problems in the past with these particular people.
Then she asks me "Quando" which implied the question, "When did this happen" I told her I was on vacation and when I got home on January 7th, this is what I saw. She flipped out asking me why it took so long for me to call her and how urgent of a matter this was... I didn't have the energy or patience to remind her that the country we currently live in functions completely and totally without process or any sense of urgency. So instead I told her my office needed to call (in broken Italian). She didn't understand and that is par for the course... I just smiled.
After some poking and prodding of the bathroom ceiling, Luigi goes upstairs to see if my neighbors were home. Five minutes later Luigi comes back with two more Italian men. Hey look at that, its my neighbors I've never met. I now have three Italian men and Signora Terabucci in my little apartment. The two neighbors see Signora Terabucci and one of them (we will call "Mario") immediately rolled his eyes a put his hands in a praying position and shaking them up and down ( a VERY common expression used to emphasis the current emotions their feeling - I call it "Talking with hands").
The two men have the opportunity to inspect the "problem at hand". They are all talking at the same time and the decibel level begins to rise. I think to myself, "If three of you would just shut up for two seconds and listen I could probably get to work a lot quicker". It is not how they do things here - in general. The culture is very consistent in this manner - they talk over eachother constantly. I hear Mario say in Italian "It could be your leak, it could be my leak, we do not know." There goes any hope for the logical approach I mentioned earlier. Signora Terabucci goes off and you could tell she was throwing accusations all over the place.... very entertaining but not helpful, and this is when Mario says, "questo sono inventzione" which translates exactly to "That you are inventing." I laughed out loud.
After a lot more bickering, hundreds of pictures and each of them walking in and out of my bathroom (very very small bathroom) 10-15 times each, the result was that Signora Terabucci would contact her lawyer and send the "proper documentation" to my neighbors insisting they investigate the leak, and if confirmed it is their leak - they fix it.
There is a small chance my ceiling will be fixed before my 4th floor neighbors become roommates.
I will NEVER start a Monday that way again. I will wait until at least Tuesday - believe me it is worth it.
Amore a tutti! Buona notte e ciao!
Jme
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Strange But True... part 1
Wow Factor:
Did you know that the majority of Italians do not know what a garbage disposal is??? Including my boss who is British. Its true. Its true, and its a shame. Well, its a shame for me because I miss having one!! I'm managing without - but man, can't tell you how many times I've found myself rinsing dishes... then having a mini heart attack as I am trying stop what I had just done.
I learn by repetition...
Driving:
I've come to realize that, in Italy, street lights and signs are merely a suggestion... I'm certain that the intention of installing the traffic lights and yield signs was put in place to provide a bit of order and sanity, but if you leave it to the Italians to interpret on their own you better watch out! I think I've mentioned this before but what makes this so fascinating for me is that Italians have mastered controlled chaos. I see less accidents here than I did in Colorado. Absolutely amazing. Oh and if you ride a scooter or motorcycle - you really don't have to follow ANY rules. It is bizarre how they own the roads - unless, of course they find themselves under a car... but that's a different story. They are - by far- the worst/unsafe drivers on the road here. Even worse than taxis.
To top it off, the speed limits are in kph (kilometers per hour), not mph - there are soooo many conversions I need to know. Who said being different was better!?
Birthdays
If it is your birthday, Italian tradition leaves it to the birthday girl/boy to cover the tab!?!?! That's right, nothing says happy birthday like an 80 Euro tab from your friends. I like birthdays too much to allow this to continue on. Of course I've tried my hardest to conform/adopted and accept the "Italian ways" since I arrived without issue, but the line is drawn here. A colleague and friend of mine recently had a birthday. I brought her a gift and took her to lunch. She couldn't believe it. I think this is one American tradition that the Italians pick up...
Return Policy:
Italy only has a 6 day return policy on all consumer goods? So if you buy a TV, for example, and it starts acting funny on day 4, and of course day 5 happens to be a Sunday and they are closed, you had better get that TV back to the store the next day otherwise you are the new proud owner of a 400 euro piece of crap. You can try to go through the actual maker - but rumor has it the only thing you walk away with is frustration. And if you buy clothes - almost all stores only allow exchanges and never give money back. Another lesson I learned the hard way...
Grocery Store Adventure:
First of all, it is important to point out the fact that you have to pay for grocery bags or "saccetti" when you go to the grocery store? I think they cost around 10 cents each. Once I learned this, I bought a few canvas bags to use instead of wasting money on plastic bags.
They will ask you, "Saccetti?" (bag?) Then I usually have to say, "Si, due grazie". Whydo I say "Si"? Because I almost always forget my canvas bags! Then, you walk to the end of the checkout counter and quickly bag your own groceries. You don't have time to separate meats from dairy or detergent from soda. The pressure is on to pay and get out of the way. Once the checker is finished scanning your items (which is pretty quick - I think all of them hate their jobs immensely) he'll say something like, "venti due quaranta" (22.40). You should try your hardest to give them exact change. Handing them 50 euros will only get you a dirty look and some mumbling while they are shaking their head at you in disgust. Why, you ask? They expect you to make exact change for them! Odd, right?!
Of course, it doesn't stop there. While paying, putting your money away and bagging your groceries - the cashier has already moved on to the next person. You now have approximately 1 minute to get your act together, finished bagging your stuff and get out of the way. If not, you're just annoying the customers in line. They have a clear as day look that says, "c'mon, what is taking her so long?" or "God!" or "We don't have all day". Fair enough. It took me a little while to catch on to the process... like I said, I learn by repetition...
Italians Speaking English:
So far, I think it is safe to say that in general, Italians (those that can speak decent English) think everything is "impossible" or "disasterous". That is still really hard for me to get used to. I was raised to think that "nothing was impossible" and I define a disaster as Hurricane Katrina or the Haiti Earthquake.
On the contrary, I DO NOT consider someone forgetting to send an email or missing a step in an administrative process a "disaster", nor do I think that just because you don't know how to do something it would automatically make it "impossible".
Another interesting comparison is when an English speaking Italian is explaining (in English) how they really enjoyed the service a person or company provided, or like the way something worked. They will describe it as "delicious". Not great, good, wonderful, fantastic, but delicious. For example, a colleague the other day was talking about her tailor and said, "Yes, yes he is just delicious." Ummm.. okay - I guess that works.
Cooking:
Here is something you probably did know... Italians take their cooking VERY seriously. I've had a large number of men ask me if I cook. Of course I lie and say, "Yes" followed with a sarcastic, "do you have a microwave?" Everyone laughs and thinks I'm just being funny. Then they almost always ask me, "When you cook pasta, do you let the water boil first and then add the pasta, or do you put the pasta in before the water is boiling?" My initial thought (which I do not say out loud) is, "well, I've got a 50/50 shot here." One thing I know is that Italians live by tradition. AND, traditionally, I believe the water should be boiling before the pasta is added in. So, after my 5 second analysis I say, "I let the water boil first." I say if very confidently as if implying, "why, didn't you know that?". My answer is a huge success. They let out a sigh of relief as if how I cooked pasta was going to affect them some day. I felt the urge to tell them that I would never put myself in that type of situation so not to worry.
Come to find out Americans have a reputation of - as the Italian men say, "just throwing the noodles in before the water is boiling - can you believe it, its unbelievable!?!" Then, as usual, I say, "Yes, yes I can". Then they laugh as of I'm just being funny again.
Just in case you were wondering, I really do boil my water first :).
My Italian:
Well, I need to get up in 6 hours so I am saying buona notte. Ma (but), before I go I would like to close on a good note. Early last week I said my first full Italian sentence WITHOUT help and WITHOUT screwing it up. It was to a taxi driver - which means he was my only witness so you're just going to have to trust me on this one...
I said, "Scusa, ho solo cinquanta euro".
I was apologizing to the taxi driver because I only had 50 euros. Remember what I said above about correct change....
A presto e amore a tutti!
Jme
Did you know that the majority of Italians do not know what a garbage disposal is??? Including my boss who is British. Its true. Its true, and its a shame. Well, its a shame for me because I miss having one!! I'm managing without - but man, can't tell you how many times I've found myself rinsing dishes... then having a mini heart attack as I am trying stop what I had just done.
I learn by repetition...
Driving:
I've come to realize that, in Italy, street lights and signs are merely a suggestion... I'm certain that the intention of installing the traffic lights and yield signs was put in place to provide a bit of order and sanity, but if you leave it to the Italians to interpret on their own you better watch out! I think I've mentioned this before but what makes this so fascinating for me is that Italians have mastered controlled chaos. I see less accidents here than I did in Colorado. Absolutely amazing. Oh and if you ride a scooter or motorcycle - you really don't have to follow ANY rules. It is bizarre how they own the roads - unless, of course they find themselves under a car... but that's a different story. They are - by far- the worst/unsafe drivers on the road here. Even worse than taxis.
To top it off, the speed limits are in kph (kilometers per hour), not mph - there are soooo many conversions I need to know. Who said being different was better!?
Birthdays
If it is your birthday, Italian tradition leaves it to the birthday girl/boy to cover the tab!?!?! That's right, nothing says happy birthday like an 80 Euro tab from your friends. I like birthdays too much to allow this to continue on. Of course I've tried my hardest to conform/adopted and accept the "Italian ways" since I arrived without issue, but the line is drawn here. A colleague and friend of mine recently had a birthday. I brought her a gift and took her to lunch. She couldn't believe it. I think this is one American tradition that the Italians pick up...
Return Policy:
Italy only has a 6 day return policy on all consumer goods? So if you buy a TV, for example, and it starts acting funny on day 4, and of course day 5 happens to be a Sunday and they are closed, you had better get that TV back to the store the next day otherwise you are the new proud owner of a 400 euro piece of crap. You can try to go through the actual maker - but rumor has it the only thing you walk away with is frustration. And if you buy clothes - almost all stores only allow exchanges and never give money back. Another lesson I learned the hard way...
Grocery Store Adventure:
First of all, it is important to point out the fact that you have to pay for grocery bags or "saccetti" when you go to the grocery store? I think they cost around 10 cents each. Once I learned this, I bought a few canvas bags to use instead of wasting money on plastic bags.
They will ask you, "Saccetti?" (bag?) Then I usually have to say, "Si, due grazie". Whydo I say "Si"? Because I almost always forget my canvas bags! Then, you walk to the end of the checkout counter and quickly bag your own groceries. You don't have time to separate meats from dairy or detergent from soda. The pressure is on to pay and get out of the way. Once the checker is finished scanning your items (which is pretty quick - I think all of them hate their jobs immensely) he'll say something like, "venti due quaranta" (22.40). You should try your hardest to give them exact change. Handing them 50 euros will only get you a dirty look and some mumbling while they are shaking their head at you in disgust. Why, you ask? They expect you to make exact change for them! Odd, right?!
Of course, it doesn't stop there. While paying, putting your money away and bagging your groceries - the cashier has already moved on to the next person. You now have approximately 1 minute to get your act together, finished bagging your stuff and get out of the way. If not, you're just annoying the customers in line. They have a clear as day look that says, "c'mon, what is taking her so long?" or "God!" or "We don't have all day". Fair enough. It took me a little while to catch on to the process... like I said, I learn by repetition...
Italians Speaking English:
So far, I think it is safe to say that in general, Italians (those that can speak decent English) think everything is "impossible" or "disasterous". That is still really hard for me to get used to. I was raised to think that "nothing was impossible" and I define a disaster as Hurricane Katrina or the Haiti Earthquake.
On the contrary, I DO NOT consider someone forgetting to send an email or missing a step in an administrative process a "disaster", nor do I think that just because you don't know how to do something it would automatically make it "impossible".
Another interesting comparison is when an English speaking Italian is explaining (in English) how they really enjoyed the service a person or company provided, or like the way something worked. They will describe it as "delicious". Not great, good, wonderful, fantastic, but delicious. For example, a colleague the other day was talking about her tailor and said, "Yes, yes he is just delicious." Ummm.. okay - I guess that works.
Cooking:
Here is something you probably did know... Italians take their cooking VERY seriously. I've had a large number of men ask me if I cook. Of course I lie and say, "Yes" followed with a sarcastic, "do you have a microwave?" Everyone laughs and thinks I'm just being funny. Then they almost always ask me, "When you cook pasta, do you let the water boil first and then add the pasta, or do you put the pasta in before the water is boiling?" My initial thought (which I do not say out loud) is, "well, I've got a 50/50 shot here." One thing I know is that Italians live by tradition. AND, traditionally, I believe the water should be boiling before the pasta is added in. So, after my 5 second analysis I say, "I let the water boil first." I say if very confidently as if implying, "why, didn't you know that?". My answer is a huge success. They let out a sigh of relief as if how I cooked pasta was going to affect them some day. I felt the urge to tell them that I would never put myself in that type of situation so not to worry.
Come to find out Americans have a reputation of - as the Italian men say, "just throwing the noodles in before the water is boiling - can you believe it, its unbelievable!?!" Then, as usual, I say, "Yes, yes I can". Then they laugh as of I'm just being funny again.
Just in case you were wondering, I really do boil my water first :).
My Italian:
Well, I need to get up in 6 hours so I am saying buona notte. Ma (but), before I go I would like to close on a good note. Early last week I said my first full Italian sentence WITHOUT help and WITHOUT screwing it up. It was to a taxi driver - which means he was my only witness so you're just going to have to trust me on this one...
I said, "Scusa, ho solo cinquanta euro".
I was apologizing to the taxi driver because I only had 50 euros. Remember what I said above about correct change....
A presto e amore a tutti!
Jme
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Venice and Rome
Apologies for the delay - this posting has taken some time to put together. Mia mamma e mia sorella (sister) came to visit me over Thanksgiving weekend, as I mentioned in my "outing to the hospital" posting. This is what living is Europe is all about. Having the opportunity to travel within and between EU countries is especially easy once you're here.
So here is a brief review of my visit to Rome and Venice with mia mamma e mia sorella!
Welcome to Burano - aka the "Lace Island" of Venice. Everywhere you turn you will little Italian ladies sewing (by hand) some of the most beautiful garments I've ever seen...
These Italian women may be little but man are they persistent. A bit much for me - but my mom was in heaven.
Me, sis and mom on the "Island of Glass" - formally known as Murano. I loved this island. The glass was beautiful - nothing like I'd seen before. But man was it COLD!
In this picture we are standing in front of a working lighthouse.
This picture is some of the residential homes on Murano island.
Venice
Totally cool. I love Venice.
Me.
The Roman ruins. This is where Rome started. Now most is in ruins, but very cool history here.
The Arch of something.... I'm forgetting right now. A month ago I would have remembered... Sorry.
The one and only Colosseum where the Roman Gladiators fought animals and humans. Crazy how things worked back then... Glad its not that way anymore.
Dang it... I'm forgetting what these are called too! Have you seen Angel and Demons??? If so - you've seen these. It is where Tom Hanks finds the first "angel" clue. It starts with a P.
OK, now were into the big bucks here. This is the inside of St. Peters - The church of the Pope himself. I had no idea God had so much money. Seriously, this was intense, huge, shiny, unbelievable...
This was the focal point inside St. Peters Church. Very pretty... very.... intense.
Ha! OK this was one of my favorite statues from the Greek section of the Vatican museum. 
One of many AMAZING ceilings inside the Vatican museum.
The Vatican from afar.
La Bruchetta!
Me and my mom at the top of the Spanish Steps. I'm not sure why - but this was one of the monuments I was really excited about. The story behind it isn't even all that impressive - nonetheless - one of my favorite spots.
Creepy Italian Trees.
The famous river in Rome. God help me - if I could only remember the name.
So here is a brief review of my visit to Rome and Venice with mia mamma e mia sorella!
Welcome to Burano - aka the "Lace Island" of Venice. Everywhere you turn you will little Italian ladies sewing (by hand) some of the most beautiful garments I've ever seen...
These Italian women may be little but man are they persistent. A bit much for me - but my mom was in heaven.
Me, sis and mom on the "Island of Glass" - formally known as Murano. I loved this island. The glass was beautiful - nothing like I'd seen before. But man was it COLD!In this picture we are standing in front of a working lighthouse.
This picture is some of the residential homes on Murano island.
Venice at night! Very pretty city - no matter what time of the year!
Who knew I could get any whiter!!
This is me and my mom on the top of the infamous Rialto bridge in Venice. Very pretty!
Venice
Totally cool. I love Venice.
Me.
In front of the Rialto Bridge
We were in Venice for only 2 days - there is a lot more I need to see so I hope to get back there this summer when its sunny out!!
Now... on to ROME!
The Roman ruins. This is where Rome started. Now most is in ruins, but very cool history here.
The Arch of something.... I'm forgetting right now. A month ago I would have remembered... Sorry.
Either way - very, very cool and pretty. OCD at its finest right here.
OK, now were into the big bucks here. This is the inside of St. Peters - The church of the Pope himself. I had no idea God had so much money. Seriously, this was intense, huge, shiny, unbelievable...
a bit much...
This was the focal point inside St. Peters Church. Very pretty... very.... intense.
Ha! OK this was one of my favorite statues from the Greek section of the Vatican museum.
This is Zeus and one of his stubborn and obviously very upset children. hehe.
One of many AMAZING ceilings inside the Vatican museum.
I mean mio Dio (My God!). Endless halls of ceilings with just as much (if not more) detail as this one - however each of them unique to the Pope who was in power at that time.
Crazy.
The Vatican from afar.
La Bruchetta!
A great and delicious restaurant in Rome. The man in the picture was our server. But more than that, he is a distant family friend. He knows my mom's uncle Lenny. Uncle Lenny's family is from Italy and he visits often. The best service I've had since I've been here.
Me and my mom at the top of the Spanish Steps. I'm not sure why - but this was one of the monuments I was really excited about. The story behind it isn't even all that impressive - nonetheless - one of my favorite spots.
Ah, here we go... I'm sure you all recognize this statue....
The one and only Fertility Goddess.
Need I say more...
On our way to the Vatican.
Creepy Italian Trees.
Whats the deal? AND how do they grow like that?
The famous river in Rome. God help me - if I could only remember the name.
Obviously I'm too tired and cannot be held accountable for my sporadic Alzheimers. I will update these pictures when I remember - sorry again.
I had over 800 pictures from this trip... You can see a lot more on my facebook page - if you're cool and have a facebook account - have a looksy.
I also think it is important to make note that even though "they" say Italy is still "America friendly", I'm here to tell you that really isn't true. Don't get me wrong, most Italians are nice to me - or at least tolerate me, but there was an incident in Venice where we got into an argument with an Italian restaurant owner who was blatantly scamming us. My tolerance for this has become extremely low (as you could imagine) so once I realized it, I tried to reason with him. Before you know it, we are in the middle of an argument with a man who clearly did not like Americans.
As for Milan... Italians in the area I live are starting to realize I'm not leaving. I think they are "coming around" and now the workers at the grocery store and nearby restaurants are starting to be nicer to me... baby steps...
As for my Italian - its getting there. I still take WAY to long to compose a sentence, so finding people who are patient enough to have a broken Italian conversation with me are almost none. Regardless I understand A LOT more than I can speak. My confidence is a little shaky, but the Italians do appreciate it when I try. So I keep trying.
As for Milan... Italians in the area I live are starting to realize I'm not leaving. I think they are "coming around" and now the workers at the grocery store and nearby restaurants are starting to be nicer to me... baby steps...
As for my Italian - its getting there. I still take WAY to long to compose a sentence, so finding people who are patient enough to have a broken Italian conversation with me are almost none. Regardless I understand A LOT more than I can speak. My confidence is a little shaky, but the Italians do appreciate it when I try. So I keep trying.
Well, I promise to post again soon - I am really going to try to post every Sunday.
Buon Natale in retardo (Good Christmas "Late")
A presto (saying to means "talk to you soon")
Jamie
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Food - Part 1
This blog is dedicated to my sister (in-law), Alison and my good friend, Dana. Alison, Dana and a few others have asked me what the food was like out here....
"Is it delicious?"
"Have you had Gelato yet?"
"What did you have for dinner?"
"Have you found a lot of good restaurants?"
Today's blog is part one of a special tribute to Italian FOOD. Mostly good experiences so far.
"Big Americans" is a BRAND out here :/.
OK, on to the good stuff!
I took this picture in Venice. Specialty cakes and candies displayed in the window front.
This has to be my 2nd favorite meal so far. Again, this was in Venice. It is pesto and cheese cannelloni.
GELATO!
Me enjoying my fruit and gelato while sitting next to the water in Venice :)
"Is it delicious?"
"Have you had Gelato yet?"
"What did you have for dinner?"
"Have you found a lot of good restaurants?"
Today's blog is part one of a special tribute to Italian FOOD. Mostly good experiences so far.
Just to be clear - this is the perception in Italy.
I can't tell you how many times I've heard the expression, "Yeah, everything is bigger in the US."
I have to tell you - they aren't wrong and it goes much farther than food.
"Big Americans" is a BRAND out here :/.
OK, on to the good stuff!Remember my Bologna blog? I mention having to work in Mirandola by myself over the weekend? Well, lets just say I didn't go hungry. This is one of my favorite meals to date.
Swordfish and pumpkin filled pasta with delicious bread sticks.
I ate everything.
I ate everything.
I took this picture in Venice. Specialty cakes and candies displayed in the window front.
They aren't big on candy bars and bon-bons, but made some VERY delicious deserts in many flavors.
Yum.
Another picture from Venice. This guy is actually posing. Its the best he could come up with, I guess.
Of course one of Italy's specialties is pizza.
Depending on what part of Italy you are in will determine the type of pizza you will get. In Milan, the bread is thinner.
Regardless, it is delicious.
This has to be my 2nd favorite meal so far. Again, this was in Venice. It is pesto and cheese cannelloni.
VERY flavorful.
I'm getting hungry.
GELATO!
Gelato is very famous - similar to our ice cream, however it is said to be closer to sherbet but fewer calories. I don't know if that's true but it makes me feel better about eating these!!!
Me enjoying my fruit and gelato while sitting next to the water in Venice :)
There are still some 'food pictures' I need to take, and others I need to get from my mom and sister. A part 2 to this blog will come in the near future.
Amore a tutti!
Ciao
Jamie
Sunday, November 29, 2009
This Thanksgiving, I would like to thank...
the man on the train who sat across from me while traveling from Rome to Milan. I believe he joined us at the Florenze stop which means my mom, sister and I enjoyed his company for a little over 2.5 hours. He didn't speak a word but was kind enough to share his bacteria/virus infected germs with me when hacking up a lung every so often during the ride.
I have strep throat.
Do I know for certain that it was him? No. But if you look at the statistics, he is the most likely suspect. Fortunately my mom and sister seem to be fine so far.
Friday and Saturday I was certain it was tonsillitis. Symptoms included fever and incredibly swollen tonsils (sensitive to touch and my neck looked twice the size it should be). My throat was swelling so badly that I took myself to the Ospedale Fatabenefratelli Pronto Soccorso (Hospital Emergency Room) late Saturday night. I was having a hard time breathing. This was an experience I REALLY never wanted to have. I had no idea if they would even treat me. They have socialized health care - but I didn't know how it worked for American expats.
The hospital isn't anything to brag about. It reminded me of very old school cafeteria style floor and walls. The "physician rooms" were lined on the outside perimeter and were separated by plywood (i.e. hollow) doors; otherwise there were tangerine colored curtains with beds set up in the center of the hospital floor.
When I first arrived I was "greeted" by an Italian man who only spoke Italian, saying a lot of things I didn't understand - which is exactly what I told him. He took me by my arm (which I didn't care for too much) and brought me up the a counter where a big piece of plexi glass (thick plastic) separated me from the hospital workers and a small little intercom that I had to speak into. As usual I get a look from them as if I just landed my space craft across the street, had gills and slime dripping from my body. I told them (in English) that I had very bad sore throat and was having a hard time breathing. He then asked me, "Where pain?" I grabbed my neck like I was strangling myself hoping that would translate as "hard to breath". He took my passport, handed me a piece of paper and sent me to a waiting room.
They put me in the bianco (white) category which means "non-urgent" and is greeted with a slap in the face in the form of every single person being treated before me! At first I thought they just didn't want to treat me because I didn't speak Italian, but after a little over an hour I "found" (by simply looking above my head) poster with four circles with four different colors; red, yello, green, white. The Codice Colore (Color Code) - A color coded procedure explaining how they determine who they see first. Bianco was the very last code and least urgent. Damn it.
I waited for 2.5 hours. It was now 2:15 a.m. I watched a lovely older Italian women come and go. A couple brought who brought their mother in - came and went, another women - came and went... all leaving with smiles on their faces - good for them.
I have strep throat.
Do I know for certain that it was him? No. But if you look at the statistics, he is the most likely suspect. Fortunately my mom and sister seem to be fine so far.
Friday and Saturday I was certain it was tonsillitis. Symptoms included fever and incredibly swollen tonsils (sensitive to touch and my neck looked twice the size it should be). My throat was swelling so badly that I took myself to the Ospedale Fatabenefratelli Pronto Soccorso (Hospital Emergency Room) late Saturday night. I was having a hard time breathing. This was an experience I REALLY never wanted to have. I had no idea if they would even treat me. They have socialized health care - but I didn't know how it worked for American expats.
The hospital isn't anything to brag about. It reminded me of very old school cafeteria style floor and walls. The "physician rooms" were lined on the outside perimeter and were separated by plywood (i.e. hollow) doors; otherwise there were tangerine colored curtains with beds set up in the center of the hospital floor.
When I first arrived I was "greeted" by an Italian man who only spoke Italian, saying a lot of things I didn't understand - which is exactly what I told him. He took me by my arm (which I didn't care for too much) and brought me up the a counter where a big piece of plexi glass (thick plastic) separated me from the hospital workers and a small little intercom that I had to speak into. As usual I get a look from them as if I just landed my space craft across the street, had gills and slime dripping from my body. I told them (in English) that I had very bad sore throat and was having a hard time breathing. He then asked me, "Where pain?" I grabbed my neck like I was strangling myself hoping that would translate as "hard to breath". He took my passport, handed me a piece of paper and sent me to a waiting room.
They put me in the bianco (white) category which means "non-urgent" and is greeted with a slap in the face in the form of every single person being treated before me! At first I thought they just didn't want to treat me because I didn't speak Italian, but after a little over an hour I "found" (by simply looking above my head) poster with four circles with four different colors; red, yello, green, white. The Codice Colore (Color Code) - A color coded procedure explaining how they determine who they see first. Bianco was the very last code and least urgent. Damn it.
I waited for 2.5 hours. It was now 2:15 a.m. I watched a lovely older Italian women come and go. A couple brought who brought their mother in - came and went, another women - came and went... all leaving with smiles on their faces - good for them.
I might sound a little disgruntled, but the evening did provide some Italian nightlife entertainment.
1. Crazy Lady:
A crazy drunk/drugged Italian women was staggering down the hall way with her pants around her knees. Thanks to this woman, I will never own green underwear as long as I live.
The orderly finally got her to lay down on a hospital bed. The secutity guard put up the safety bars so she wouldn't fall off the bed. Mr. Safety Guard didn't read the find print that says "if drunk/durgged women puts all her body weight on the bars, they will break and she will fall. She his the floor pretty hard, along with half the bed; screws, nuts and bolts rolling around across the floor.
From what could tell, I believe they ended up strapping her down to a bed. For 1.5 hours straight she screamed random Italian words like "Aiuto" (HELP) and a few words I couldn't make out and non words like "AHHhhhAhh" and "UUUHHH". The hospital staff started yelling back at her "BASTA" (Enough/No more). I dont' think anyone would have minded if they knocked her out (by needle or fist - we didn't care)
2. Dumb Guy:
A younger man (24-26ish years old) came in with a cut on his wrist. He was either drunk or drugged - probably both. There were two waiting room side-by-side which the hospital could combine into one room by opening a sliding ply-wood door that was on the wall shared by the two rooms. While I was there, this shared door was closed - allowing there to be two separate waiting rooms that are accessed by the main hallway.
This guy started banging on one side of this door, then walking around to the waiting room next door and banging on the other side of the same door. He couldn't figure out that they were the same door. VERY strange and a little amusing I must admit! A women looked at me and did (what I have confirmed as) the internation expression for crazy (finger circling you temple).
OK, so it is now 2:15 a.m. I FINALLY get in to see the doctor - yay.
My throat was so swollen she couldn't see anything, so she gave me an anti-inflammatory shot into my arm. I hate needles. She sent me back to the waiting room (NO -anywhere but there!) for 30 mins to let the drugs take effect. Ahhh, man that was great! Almost all the swelling went down!
She gave me Amoxicillian (sp?) and a pain reliever in powder form which I didn't figure out how to take until today... AND I found a new community of white bumps that took up residence on the back of my throat. Once again, making it hard for me to breath!
So, for this Thanksgiving I am going to give a big sarcastic thank you to the gentleman on the train (or whomever it was) for sharing with me and, and a deeply honest thank you to Security Officer Nathan from Tennessee who is based at the US Consulate in Milan . I didn't mention it above, but I had to call him twice to help me with telling me where I should go and translating my symptoms to the doctor.
People! PLEASE do not travel or go to work when you are sick!
I hope everyone had a wonderful, safe and bacteria/virus free Thanksgiving!!!
Promise to post pics of my recent trips to Venice and Rome (with mom and sis) very soon!
Grazie e Ciao!
Jamie
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Happy Halloween!!!
A little disappointed in the lack of enthusiasm for Halloween here in Milan. I noticed some of the cafes and specialty food shops decorate with carved pumpkins and pumpkin themed food, but where are the costumes, painted faces, kids on a sugar buzz and bulk bags of candy that eventually contribute to your local dentist's mortgage?
Oh ya, this isn't America.
Well, in all honesty I didn't expect the traditional American style Halloween because that would be silly. But... I did expect something. According to my colleagues at work, Halloween has only been 'recognized' and celebrated for about 10 years, and really is "for the kids" to dress up. The only kids I saw dressed up were my adorable nieces by way of pictures posted by my brother and sister-in-law.
Such a shame. Halloween is great! My favorite part was trick-or-treating in the 'rich neighborhoods' that gave out full-size candy bars :).
Anywho - no Halloween celebrations here. ALTHOUGH, they do have Christmas candy and decorations (including wrapping paper) available in the grocery stores. That gave me a little feeling of 'home'.
Happy Halloween to all!
Ciao,
Jamie
Oh ya, this isn't America.
Well, in all honesty I didn't expect the traditional American style Halloween because that would be silly. But... I did expect something. According to my colleagues at work, Halloween has only been 'recognized' and celebrated for about 10 years, and really is "for the kids" to dress up. The only kids I saw dressed up were my adorable nieces by way of pictures posted by my brother and sister-in-law.
Such a shame. Halloween is great! My favorite part was trick-or-treating in the 'rich neighborhoods' that gave out full-size candy bars :).
Anywho - no Halloween celebrations here. ALTHOUGH, they do have Christmas candy and decorations (including wrapping paper) available in the grocery stores. That gave me a little feeling of 'home'.
Happy Halloween to all!
Ciao,
Jamie
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