Okay. A bit cheezy but I just got back from the circus and my head is full of strange and qwerky thoughts (I should probably draw something right now, but I am writing to you. Don't you feel lucky?). But I am getting ahead of myself. I'm gonna tell you a little something about where I am going to live for a year first...
This past weekend I took a train to Bologna. Mostly just because I wanted to see it, but also because I had an apartment appointment. The train ride is lovely... a bit long (if you are taking the slow ghetto train like any self-respecting student) but you go through the forested and towered hills of Northern Italy which is... Bellissima!
Honestly I was a bit scared when I first got to Bologna... it didn't have the immediate beauty and prestige if Florence... and there was graffitti everywhere! But it grows on you as you walk around. Porticoes seem to be the unifying feature in Bologna. Which is good news because I hear that it rains like nobody's business in October/November.
My mission for the day was to try and scope out places to live. Which is very intimidating for me because I can only speak so much Italian and prevalent vocabulary words like "stove" or "heating" are not stored in my head yet. To boot I sound like a severely confused six year old whenever I speak (especially over the phone where I cannot use my outlandish good looks and charming demeanor to win people over). Anyway. I'll tell you about my first Italian telephone call in a moment... Near Via Zamboni is a side street lined with bulletin boards. And on these bulletin boards are layers and layers and layers of housing adds. People ductape their adds over other peoples'... some staple, others tap their add to the end of the one above so they are hanging like chains. I ended up with the first couple layers draped over my head like the hood of an old-fashioned silver-plate photographer. I ended up with pockets full of little tear off strips... oh dear.
Good news is I posted an add on an Italian "craigslist" and got a few hits... there is a fellow art student who sounds very kind. I called her the other day. It was officially my first phone call in Italian. I was so nervous that I spoke very quickly at first (and probably in a round-about way). There was a long, painful silence and then... mi dispiace, non ho capisco..? I didn't have anything prepared after that but managed to stammer out: stanza... ehh. Camera di letto? Appartamento. eh. And then she figured out who I was and what I was asking about and I apologized for my terrible telephone speaking and then we made an appointment. WHEW! Success! My only concern is that she won't want to live with me after hearing me on the phone. Oh well. Guess I'll stick to the charming in person. :)
LOOK! Julie blends into the bush!! Magic!
I should be in a circus. Maybe I will join an Italian circus and never come back to the States. Hmm.
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