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name Ryan sex male birthday 04.8.1987 aim s/n nollryan121
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Sunday, March 29, 2009
It is the end of what has been a long and most strange weekend. I woke up this morning to the winds trying to tear this old building apart, windows rattling and flexing in protest. From my vantage point, my window that over looks the town and the valley below, I could almost see the wind screaming across the hills and up through this little town that I live in. The weather all weekend has done its best to make me feel as if I’m in a twilight zone rerun. Warm rain falls in full sunlight only to be replaced moment later by ominous clouds, then sunlight again. The air has simply hung for the last 3 days, like damp laundry that refuses to dry.Its been all too quite in the huge monastery, the majority of students have been in Rome for the last 3 days, visiting museums, staying in the little trendy apartments in the quiet parts of town, practicing their sketching, eating the best food. Basically living the hard life. When I first arrived here, I was disappointed that the group was so huge, we are nearly maxed out here with 26 students. It’s impossible to go anywhere as a community without looking like we just dropped in from the Midwest (no offense to my sister who JUST GOT ACCEPTED TO WHEATON! Congrats Mary!). I don't mind the size at all now, but I do enjoy the fact that I can blend in most places that I go, (something about my face maybe) at least until I open my mouth. Ha, I must sound so absurd trying to speak this beautiful language, babbling like a slow yet demanding toddler, pointing at things and saying what translates to basically “I want that one!” I try though, I try and one of the things that I love so much about this culture is that most people truly appreciate the effort. Its both entertaining and frustrating at the same time when the shop owner, or the cashier can tell that you are obviously English speaking, so instead of responding back in Italian, they switch over to their own stilted, yet beautiful sounding English to get some practice, a skill which most here who know any of our language are very proud of. Random side note. I went to a “show” on Thursday night, per request of an English girl who lives in this town and teaches English to the high schoolers. Her kids were playing so I went to see this group of about 5 or 6 guys, dressed to the hilt, piercings, meticulous hair, upturned collars, putting forth their best rock and roll stance to play such American hits as “Tutti Frutti” and “Twist and Shout” It was all I could do to keep a straight face, and well even then that didn’t work out so well. I guess American culture is good for a few things huh? This weekend was also the weekend of random crazy people wandering up to me and delivering long soliloquies in Italian even though I fully exercised and enunciated the one Italian phrase I can say like a pro: “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” Unfortunately, I haven’t mastered yet the phrase “please go away, you’re scaring me and the children around you.” The other part that sucks, is that I can understand just enough to not be completely in the dark, but I can only say “Nooooo” with an aghast expression when the crazy guy asks me such pleasant conversational topics as what I would do to those girls sitting in the corner, or what I think about the Jews, or whatever else the crazy drunk old man wants to be disgusting about. Also, I’m not so good with my transitory verbs yet, so one moment I’ll be half-way following a story about WWII and something about bombs, then suddenly there is something very passionate being said about runway models and the benefits of Walt Whitman. True story. Same thing happens with Italian television. Either people here have the worlds weirdest attention span’s, or I just don’t get it. Maybe a bit of both. Hope all is well with you who are reading and to those who are getting ready to graduate. You are all in my thoughts. My birthday is in two weeks, and I’m thinking about heading to Florence to see some family, so I will keep everyone updated on anything of note, which in this strange and beautiful country, there always is. Until next time… Yossarian [
8:50 AM ] |