Thursday, February 28, 2008

LOST SWEATER: Brooks Brothers, orange. Last seen near Piazza Del Campo.


Maglione, Dov'è?
Originally uploaded by Bueno Snippy Snappy
Amazing this iPhoto stuff; the photo above was really blurry and dark. It turned out badly because I was trying not to stand out amongst the crowd and turned off the flash. If I had a steady hand, it would look great. Of course, I don’t have a steady hand, because, well, I’m freaking OLDer and just plain OLD.

So, yes, I was feeling kind of old yesterday. That is, until I went to my cultural lesson in the evening about the Palio and just when I was feeling a little on the ancient side, I was also listening to one of the teachers describe the annual Sienese festival that started in the 1100’s. That’s right, 1100’s. Now, that’s old. While it didn’t make me feel all that much better about my age, I did forget about the whole age thing for a little while. Then again, maybe I forgot about my old age BECAUSE of the old age.

So, by the way, the Palio is extremely interesting. I’d advise everyone to take a 10-minute break and read about it on Wikipedia. The long and short of it is that it’s an annual festival that happens twice per year in Siena. Once in July and once in August. It’s a horse race between 10 of the 17 contrade (contrada is singular). Contrade is how the city of Siena is divided and think of your contrada as a neighborhood association on “those special vitamins of Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, and Marion Jones”. I say steroids (or stereos) because your contrada is JUST AS important as your own family. Its organization, purpose, mission, and symbolism go well beyond neighborhood watch and the summer concerts that we are familiar with. Its importance is no joke to the Sienese, and after hearing the descriptions of the things that members of the contrada do for each other, it’s something to be admired. It injects the city with a number of extremely important social constructs that not only benefit its people but also the city as a whole. The contrada is unique to Siena and something to be admired.

I look forward to my first Palio, and speaking of that, I neglected to mention in previous entries that there is a TV channel here that is mostly dedicated to Siena, and so, one of the things that this channel does, is to show the Palio from years past. Carla happened to be channel surfing the other night and she told me about this channel and then she asked me if I wanted to see the Palio where Pantera (this is Carla’s contrada) won. I think you know what my answer was. She pulled out this huge volume from her bookcase; it was like a huge high school yearbook that covered the Palio for 2006 and in the back was a DVD of the Palio, 2006, July.

The horse race was the first chapter of this 60 minute DVD. Yes, 60 minutes. Like I said, this stuff is important and its symbolism and meaning go well beyond a simple horse race. So, there we were watching the race, and I’m listening to Carla’s play-by-play, an extremely detailed one at that, and great for me because it’s in Italian. I’m sitting there, pretty relaxed with my legs up on the chair, watching the race and Carla is now almost shouting. When the Pantera horse crossed the finish line, I thought she was going to jump up on the sofa and start clapping (...Mamma mia, stai tranquilla...). It was an amazing sight to see her so excited, and for a brief moment, I was wishing that I were lifecasting this whole experience. It seemed as if this were her very first time watching the event. After the few minutes of awe that I experienced while watching Carla, I turned back to the video and couldn’t believe my eyes. Celebration, for Pantera, was in full swing, and I kid you not, the people on the video looked as if they had just been touched by God, met the remaining members of the Holy Trinity, blessed by every saint of the Catholic Church, and invited to dinner with their favorite celebrity all at once. I have never seen people that happy before in my life. Like I said, it’s more than just a simple horse race put on by the neighborhood association.

And so, about that sweater. Sorry about the length of this post, but it was a good day. Marcel, Anna, and I decided to go out the night before my birthday. What a marvelous evening it was that started with aperitivo in Piazza Del Campo. We selected the place because the prosciutto crudo looked amazing and since this is one of the things that I can never get in America (well, at least not like it is in Italy), it was a great idea. We then went to Trattoria dei Papei, ate a fabulous meal of cinghiale and bisteca fiorentina, and drank amazing wine. Seriously, the wine does not get more perfect than this and I felt like it made my Italian a lot better (HA!). Just to explain the white stuff on my sweater, we had a small spillage, and somehow red wine ended up on my sweater. Marcel recommended that I take off my sweater and put salt on the wine as this is supposed to assist with the prevention of the staining. I should mention, that in the current state that I was in, I really didn’t give a care. Unfortunately, I will never know if salt on red wine is a good idea or not. I’ll have to trust that German ingenuity is correct, and when you think about it, it isn’t such a bad bet.

We retired to a small bar and disco in the Piazza and awaited midnight, at which point, we drank shots of Vodka. That day, in class, we discussed international stereotypes and decided on Vodka since Anna is Polish and therefore brushes her teeth with the stuff, bathes with it, and drinks it like water. After that shot of Vodka, we probably should have gone home (at least I should have) but instead we ventured out of the disco and to an Irish pub near our school. Somewhere in the roads that lead you to the Irish pub, there is an orange sweater, Brooks Brothers, perhaps still stained with red wine, but permanently imprinted with great memories.

To whoever finds it: If you decide to keep it, please take great care of it and I hope that it will bring you unbelievable luck with the opposite sex...or whatever your flavor, slim your figure to your exact liking, and bring you an endless string of beautiful evenings like the one that I just described. In bocca al lupo.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Umberto, where do you train?

I went to the swimming pool tonight and I was just a little bit shocked. It was, in a word, tiny. I thought about all the swimming pools we have in California (the outdoor ones) and it’s no wonder that Americans (and Australians) dominate the Olympics in swimming. We, quite simply, have better swimming pools and training facilities. In California, I think we have more swimming pools than Italy has churches which means we have a truckload.

The locker room was pretty interesting. The toilets had doors but didn’t really have locks or, for that matter, actual door latches. In fact, there was a sign in the toilet that discussed conducting yourself in a civil manner. Well, goodness gracious I thought, did we have to actually BE TOLD that? More to come on this locker room later.

The actual swimming pool was five lanes large. Talk about cramped quarters. I felt like it was a smaller version of the Palazzo because people were kind of circling about like they do in the Palazzo. There were the guys trying to pick up on the girls and then there were the various social circles chatting away. I got into the actual swimming area and thought, really, is anyone actually going to get into the pool? I waited for someone else to jump in first because I didn’t know if there were some sort of protocol that I had to follow here. When I finally got into the pool, I thought it was strange that you could get into any lane that you liked. It didn’t matter if you were fast or slow; it was just a huge random congregation. For those actually trying to do a workout (myself and probably only me), it was a little difficult. And not a big surprise to me, but people were swimming like they drive.

I decided that I now understood why I only knew of one well known Italian swimmer. I also decided that I knew why Italians were good at the other water sport, water polo, and came up with three solid reasons:
  1. It’s the aquatic version of soccer. My friend Brian pointed this out to me a while ago.
  2. Italy is close to the former Yugoslavia.
  3. Americans move to Italy to play in the professional Italian leagues.
After about 40 or so less-than-satisfying minutes, back to the locker room I went. Earlier, I had buried my wallet deep into my backpack because I had a pair of sunglasses stolen at the pool in Milan a while back. They were too easily available and accessible. Having learned something from that experience, I did my best to bury, deeply, the only real thing of value that I have in my bag. As I am about to rinse off, the first thing that I notice is that there aren’t really any valves for the showers and that’s because you have to pay 10 cents for the shower at this machine that kind of looks like you should be buying a coke out of it. Except, in this case, you have to buy your shower. Perfect! Here I am, dripping wet, with my wallet buried deep within my bag and I have to fish for change. I mentally congratulated myself on actually remembering my change too. It was a good thing as I didn’t see a slot for the AMEX.

All in all, not the best swimming pool experience, but I did learn new word when talking to the person next to me. Turns out the 4,60€ was worth it after all.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Just follow the circular stairway about 400 steps up. You can’t miss it.



Those that have visited or lived in Europe will know what I am talking about here. For those that haven’t, I’ve posted a short video of the climb that I made today. As an FYI, I made a similar climb yesterday but being the dork that I am about charging batteries (I charge them only when they are drained completely), I didn’t charge the battery on my camera, and so, when I made the climb and finally got to the top, I was greeted with the all to familiar and disappointing: “Change the battery pack.” I’m going to have to write a note to Canon to add “please” to the error message. I mean, they could at least be polite about it.

Back to the tall buildings. So, for whatever odd reason, every architect of medieval buildings thought it wise to build buildings and their corresponding towers as tall as possible. Those towers by the way, “tower” above the building itself. When I say tall building, I mean REALLY tall. As in, if 200 NBA players (or 190 Yao Ming’s) could stand on top of each other’s shoulders, they probably still couldn’t touch the ceiling. It makes sense though, when you stop to think about it. These high towers were typically for the bells and for the lonely soul at the top that got stuck watching over the town and its people. It probably helped to be able to see an invading army when it was still thousands of kilometers away. Typically, these buildings are churches but today’s adventure was the Palazzo Pubblico. In medieval Sienese times, this building was the center of all the action; it was everything. Think South Coast Plaza, plus City Hall, plus Target, plus every possible market all rolled into one. It also doubles as your place of worship and in the evenings, it turns into a club. OK, so not really but maybe.

In modern times though, the Palazzo Pubblico is still an amazing structure that absolutely blows you away. Inside, much of the original frescoes have been restored and are very well preserved. The amazing thing to me is that with such high ceilings, it must have taken a long time to create these frescoes. They were most certainly labors of love because they are amazing. The details of each figure are incredible, and from that I mean, it’s incredible the use of color, the illusion of depth, and of course the symbols. It’s no wonder that there are large volumes of books that cover works of art. Incidentally, that’s just about the frescoes; there were also unbelievable choirs carved from wood and iron gates with an acute sense of detail about them. We simply don’t make stuff like this anymore and when we do it’s usually for a special occasion.

This brings me to the stairs. I was downstairs at the entrance to the tower and the signal light (which you’re supposed to obey) said “STOP”. My first thought was, guasto, or out of order. So, I walked right past it and ran up the stairs or I should say, the first 50. These stairs were an odd juxtaposition of old and new. The first 30 or so, were probably part of the original building. The next 20, were definitely built recently and probably as part of the last restoration and preservation project. I got to the top, and of course, it turns out the sign was functioning after all and since the guards think that Italians follow the rules (uh, that would be no) she immediately got angry at me in English. I responded in Italian and she switched but she was still angry and told me that I had to go back down. As I’m leaving, here comes an Italian girl, and of course, the guard gets angry again and in English again. This girl though, gets angry back. That quickly silenced and changed the tune of the guard. I heard sorry a couple of times and the best part: “I thought you were a foreigner.” Because of course, Italians always follow the rules. HA!

I’m climbing to the top of the tower and just to give you a good feel for this climb, it’s inside a circular staircase completely made of stone (part of the building) and it’s made for people that weigh 70 pounds (31.5 kgs) and about 4 feet tall (1.2 meters). Even I had to duck and that never happens. To call it a tight squeeze is a huge understatement. I felt bad for these two Japanese girls coming up after me. They were panting like they had just run a marathon. It’s a pretty tough climb though and you do have to be careful. If you lose your footing and slip and hit your shin, it hurts. Trust me, a few years ago in Rome, it happened to me. The reward for all this work, of course, is an unbelievable view of the Tuscan countryside, the people sitting in the Palazzo, and of course extremely fresh air. Just like a few years ago in Rome, I got to the top and was sort of gasping for air, my muscles asking for oxygen. One thing that I will never understand, are those people that finally get to the top and the first thing they do is light up a cigarette. I equate this to quenching your thirst after a race with a glass of red wine. Those guys at Gatorade just didn’t get it!

400 steps later, I’m totally engrossed in this unbelievable view of the Tuscan countryside when, suddenly, the bell rings. I think we all jumped and quickly gave thanks that it was only three o’clock in the afternoon. Imagine a small earthquake with an alarm going off in your ear at the same time capped off with the feeling of looking down from a really high spot (a spot originally designed for the rough equivalent of 1/2 of today’s modern person).

Friday, February 22, 2008

And now I know just how little I know


Duomo
Originally uploaded by Bueno Snippy Snappy
What a long week. I’ve learned that I while I know enough to be dangerous and polite around town, I still have so much to learn. I’m not discouraged though because I know that it’s always going to be a learning process for the rest of my life. I mean, I’m still learning stuff about English and it is my first language. I decided that I am definitely going to look for the language exchange student because even with the three hours of instruction, all the reading, and going around town, it’s just not enough still.

I bought a few workbooks; the guy at the bookstore was extremely helpful and made some very good suggestions. I thought back on my decision to choose Siena and I mentally congratulate those that helped me make this decision on a job well done. In a big city, they surely would have switched to English to talk with me and that just isn’t cool. Plus, there would have been a thousand people in the store and I doubt that the person minding the store would have had the time to help a lost jackass like me. I decided on two workbooks and plan to get through all the exercises. I’m setting myself up for more homework than I had in college. It’s madness on my part but I’m not here to have fun (not completely at least). I also bought some paper to make flashcards. I’m determined to master passato remoto and commit as many words to memory as possible.

It was such a nice day today that I decided to walk over to the Duomo. I figured that I should at least peek the outside since I walk by it everyday on the way to school. The light outside today was extremely good. I pulled out the camera and snapped away. It was me and about a truckload of Japanese tourists. It’s certainly not your typical Saint Whatever Parish Church in “LookTheSameRanch, CA” that’s for sure! Then again, they probably don’t WiFi or for that matter, HiFi. There were a bunch of Italian school kids outside; they looked like they were probably 12-14 years old and even they were snapping pictures of themselves with the Duomo in the background. I had a whole set of different opportunities in my own life but I thought at that moment how cool it must be to be able to take a picture of you and your friends with a church built in the 12th century as your backdrop and in your hometown. And how great that they are actually doing it!

The plan for the weekend is: more Duomo (I could spend a few days there), Palazzo Publicco, a museum if there is time, and STUDYING!

Thursday, February 21, 2008

You know you're old when

I was talking to my housemate this evening about the lunar eclipse. For all of us here in Siena, it happened very early in the morning and so he and some of his classmates decided to stay up to watch it. They’re all around the same age so they can handle those late to early night to morning things. So, I asked him how the eclipse was and he basically said that I really didn’t miss anything. Well, good I thought because I was engrossed with the passato remoto. In fact, he said that if you didn’t know what was going on, you wouldn’t even think anything spectacular or coincidental was happening. So, I was pretty stoked about hearing that because stellar events are definitely events where I can be found. I am a Star Trek fan after all (for all the sci-fi freaks like me out there reading this, yes, I am quite fond of Star Wars too). I told him that I had looked up the pictures on the internet. These pictures were slow captured (is that what it is called?) which created a much more dramatic effect and it was possible to actually see the moon being eclipsed.

Somehow our conversation delved into intelligent design, the bible, religion, and we attempted to tie all these topics back into our lives here in Italy. (I mentioned that I had taken a class with one of the more well-known and influential evolutionary biologists.) The poor kid must have been starved for some English. We did talk a little about our Italian language programs and I found out that his class has not even gone over formal and informal greetings yet. I was very surprised about this as I find it quite difficult to get around town without knowing this very subtle but extremely important distinction. I’m sure everyone can pick us out as foreigners but I’m sure that if you aren’t addressing people properly that they must be thinking about which books we are reading or who the heck is teaching us. This brought us into a discussion of some of the cultural differences.

There would be way too many things to write about if I were to mention every instance of cultural difference. I’ll try to mention some of them in future entries. One difference that we really thought interesting was the fact that you never get anything for free here (or at least seemingly for free as in America). You pay for everything; this includes the water and bread that you consume at restaurants. It’s not such a bad system, because someone somewhere has to pay for it. We listed a number of different examples of this when finally we found one example (here in town) where you do get something for free (seemingly). The Australian pub (makes sense that it isn’t an Italian one) gives away a free tee shirt if you drink four giant mugs of Fosters.

This brings me to the “feeling ancient” part of this entry. When my housemate told me about this tee shirt giveaway at the pub, the first thing that popped into my head was: Are your parents okay with that? Geez, when did I become such an old and uncool “practically parent”? My next thought was that this would be way too much liquid to consume and that my stomach could not handle that much liquid and alcohol. ANOTHER geezer thought. I’m sure that through the magic of the internet and those fantastic data mining tools that I have sold, that I’ll be getting those AARP applications in the mail back home. Those will surely be followed by solicitations for Atlantic Monthly and invitations to the local senior swing dancing socials. I made a fast mental note that I will make sure NOT to pull up my pants too high...

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Speaking of history


Visualizzazione ingrandita della mappa

One of the nice things about blogging is that it’s pretty rare to have writer’s block. You simply have to write/spill your thoughts into the computer and simply try to make them all make sense for everyone. I’m doing my best to make sure that they make sense as well as make sure that they are as error free as my time allows. It’s somewhat difficult and I will have to apologize in advance. I’m rushing around everywhere and I often find myself out of time. I have classes in the morning, an activity of sorts (not always), lots of exploring (and hence walking). Tonight for example I went to look for the local swimming pool and of course I got lost which chewed up even more time. Of course I have to find the time to do my homework and write in the blog. This brings me to the reason that I mentioned writer’s block.

Yesterday was the second day of school and all I can remember is that I understood most of it (this is usually the case). The problem, as usual, is to figure out how to train my brain to actually act like a brain rather than a computer. Sadly, I’m still in computer mode but I try to talk to everyone that’s in the store, fellow students, and the teachers. The teachers are always busy though and so I don’t get as much of an opportunity to talk with them as I would like. I met a nice lady in the Legatoria, called Il Papiro (fine stationery from Florence - the most beautiful paper you could ever see or touch) the other day and we talked for at least an hour. Sadly, she is gone for ferie (vacation) and I’m not sure when I’ll see her again. I’d like to ask her if she would be interested in language exchange. (I mapped their place above because it’s a great store; some crazy New Yorkers and Californians get their wedding invitations designed and printed here). Still, in order to get exposed to the language more, I’m going to see about taking one of the yoga classes next week, joining the local gym, and renting some DVDs. I’m here for six weeks so I figured that I might as well get integrated as much as I can.

So, as I was saying about writer’s block. I jumped into the advanced fluency class and they were in the section for passato remoto or remote past. Since I’m not a great student back home, I didn’t really commit this tense to memory. Now, I’m paying for it and in a big way because it is used in the paper, on TV, and of course in our class. This is a tense that, well, just doesn’t exist in English. Awesome! When we talk about the past in English, we really just have the past perfect, pluperfect, our quasi imperfect. We just don’t really have something that helps us communicate history except context. That’s probably the easiest way to explain it. So, I’m sitting at my desk last night trying to invent a story about a fox and a bear. We were given a handout with a picture of fox and a bear with the fox looking like he’s about to kill and eat the bear. For whatever reason, I can’t think of anything to write. I even tried to switch my thinking into English and I couldn’t even do that. I went into the living room to watch a little telequiz (the Italian version of “Who wants to be a millionaire?”) and even in places where I want to get away from it, I can’t escape the passato remoto there either. It’s in about every question prompt especially the ones about...history. Beh!

A few hours passed, and even Mike is asleep. Remember, Mike’s a lot younger so he’s got a much fuller social calendar than I do. He’s also got a better ability to actually stay up much longer than I do. Finally, I decide to put the iPod on with Andrea Bocelli (no English here plus his words are extremely clear, not in the simple sense but in the enunciated sense) and crank out my crazy story. After all those agonizing, seemingly wasted, and tortuous hours, the best that I can do is some crazy story about a fox named Christopher Columbus that was born in 1492. Don’t laugh because it was the easiest way to integrate this tense into the story. It’s an engaging drama of fox chases bear, bear’s family sets a trap, in a chapel (this is Italy after all), bear escapes, il lupo furbo (sly fox) slams the gate shut of the chapel (because all chapels have gates), and the branco (pack) commence their dinner. Che violenza! Forse io sia un candidato per il premio Nobel.

Happy Birthday Alex

Checking to see how long before he actually reads this post. Happy 35.

Monday, February 18, 2008

My pants feel a little loose

When I got up this morning, I had to tighten my belt all the way to the last setting (is that what it’s called?). I have no idea how this happened but it could be all the walking that I am doing. When I get back to California, it will probably best that no one is my passenger for the first week as I get used to driving a car again. Speaking of the walking, I feel like I am walking fast; in fact, I am consciously trying to walk fast because I’m usually late for all of my appointments (school included). Still, with this brisk pace (arms swinging and all), I still can’t keep up with the Italians. These folks are moving quickly and perhaps that’s why they are all in great shape. My former Italian girlfriend told me once that whenever I’m in Italy she thinks that I walk much slower than I do in the USA. In fact, she also said that in America, she had a harder time keeping up with me (imagine that!). She assigned me the nickname (endearingly of course) of il bradipo. I’ll save you the wiki translation; it means sloth.

So, if it isn’t all the walking, then it’s probably the additional mental energy that my peanut requires for the additional language. I’m still in that state where my brain is acting like a computer; meaning, it hears something, looks it up, makes a quick (quick enough at least) cross reference in English, and then processes the meaning. The natural order of course is to just know it or to have the brain compare it to an experience. And so, here I am, building those connections and experiences with people, TV, music, etc.

When I was done complaining about my class today, the other students had already left. I was left to my own devices for lunch. During which, I took care of that loose pants issue. I didn’t just take care of it; I REALLY took care of it. I found a small osteria near my apartment called Osteria di Tamburino. I ordered Pici al sugo di cinghiale. Pici, no translation, it’s a type of pasta typical of Siena (and also Umbria as it was explained to me by the waiter). Sugo di cinghiale is a wild boar sauce. As I’m sitting there enjoying my glass of wine (by the way, I paid 2€ for two glasses; I kept the receipt for proof) that is absolutely blowing me away, the waiter brings me the pasta dish. Just looking at it and enjoying the aroma, I already know. I’m reminded of that time I paid $12 for a glass of corked red vinegar in Santa Monica.

I finished the meal with a pork chop. Like I said, I REALLY took care of that loose pants issue.

First Day of School


View Larger Map

It has been a very long time since I had a first day of school. I take classes in America for a lot of different things; Italian for one, digital photography, digital video, etc., but all these classes meet, at best, once per week. It has been ages since I have had to go to a real school/university/institute or otherwise on a daily basis for the singular purpose of education. For all the kids/people that are fortunate enough to be in school, my advice is stay as long as you can. There are many merits to having a steady job and career and I count both of those as blessings. Still, that being said, the dedicated pursuit of knowledge is something that is a lot of fun. Of course, one must be ready to accept this situation as an opportunity. I found myself in a very unique situation; the planets were aligned correctly, and so, I decided to take advantage of it. My job, whatever that will be, is going to be ready for me back in America (at least I hope :)). Still, I know that there will always be something for me even if it’s just the barista position at the local coffee shop.

Speaking of kids in school, I have to mention that I applaud my fellow boarder here in Siena. Mike just recently graduated from high school and between his graduation and eventual enrollment at Dartmouth is spending three months here in Siena. To all the readers, please don’t think that this opportunity is only for folks of privilege. Heck, I’m here and I definitely don’t count myself as someone of privilege. This is the best time to visit Siena for education reasons. It’s winter, which means that in a couple of weeks, we are expecting snow (I’m not sure that I’m prepared for this). It also means that it’s not an expensive time to be here and for a student it’s an optimal time to be here for education. Mike and I are also staying with a local family (we have rooms in their house) and this is not only a great way to stay economically but also a great way to learn the language. My hat’s off to Mike and his fellow education seekers that are here in Siena or other places.

Back to the first day, I was very excited to be walking to school this morning. I was so excited that I missed my turn and ended up at the local sanitarium which turned out to be one of the worst places to ask for directions. I found a local map at the nearby university and it turns out that wasn’t a good source either. I asked a local woman and she recommended that I ask someone in the bar (this just means coffee shop) and it turns out that was almost good enough. I was pointed in the right direction, asked a security guard and that was what finally what did it.

I arrived at school 20 minutes late, said sorry about 20 times, and took the written and oral tests. I was placed, accurately I might add, in the class that is one level below advanced fluency. I started the class and I was extremely comfortable with the level, but that is not what I am here for. I’m here to be completely uncomfortable; I don’t want anything to be easy. I would rather be the dumbest person in the class and completely uncomfortable than satisfied with how well I’m doing. So, as a typical American or more accurately Californian, I complained. After class I told Silvia that I had already finished the book that we were using (which was true). She said that she would see about moving me up one level especially since I was able to construct a sentence with imperfect subjunctive and a conditional phrase. It’s a good thing that I did that during class otherwise she might not have thought to move me up. When I told her that I had already finished the book, she looked at me with a somewhat dismissive (but not in a negative sense) “so what” look.

One last funny fact about the class. I was joking, back at home, that I had requested a class made up of only women. How strange, but I found myself today in a class of all women including a fellow Golden Bear. Her and her husband are here for two years; he works for Novartis. All things considered, what a great gig to be “stuck” here in Siena for two years. Since I complained today, I’m sure that I won’t be as fortunate tomorrow...

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Walked around Siena today


IMG_0665
Originally uploaded by Bueno Snippy Snappy


It’s official. It’s freezing here. I know that I probably look like a huge bear walking down Siena but this weather is not for people from Southern California that also get cold easily. I told Carla (the lady that is hosting me) last night that I was going to get up at 7 AM, have breakfast with her, and walk around town. Well, it didn’t quite happen that way. I did wake up at 7, used the bathroom, laid back down, and the next thing that I knew was that my mobile was ringing and that it was 11 AM. I missed the cappuccino hour and so today I will settle for a regular coffee. This coffee, in my opinion by the way for the coffee drinkers, just blows your mind. I’ve always thought that coffee was coffee until I got to Italy.
As you have probably noticed, I have located an internet point. There were many choices to choose from but I wanted one where I could plug in my own laptop. That way I could blog the entries offline, connect, and upload/fine-tune the entries when I got to the internet point. There isn’t any all you can eat plan here; this is metered access. Of all the places that I have been in the world, it’s only in the states that we I have ever found unmetered all you can download access. Score one for the states on that. So, because of this metered access, I try to prepare as much offline. I really doubt that it is saving me any money but it’s something that I cannot mentally get out of my mind. The good thing about metered access for me is that it forces me to converse with people.
When you walk around a town like Siena, it’s an unbelievable collage of old/new, classic/modern, interesting/strange. This interesting facet of a city like Siena will never be lost on me. I think that I will always appreciate the antique buildings that also have modern conveniences. (Generally speaking, it’s great to see a building last 10 years or more in Southern California.) I’ve posted a few of the pictures of Siena to Flickr and the DotMac Web Gallery. I’m definitely not finished with walking around and plan to photograph as many of the interesting sites as possible.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Obama o Hillary?

Perché sono americano ho paura parlare di politica in particolare quando sono all’estero. Generalmente non mi interessa molto politica anche se mi interessano l’economia, l’ambiente, la nostra posizione scomoda nella guerra in Iraq, e la forza del dollaro. Però stasera sulla TV, c’è un programma dell’elezione in Italia. Carla, sto a casa sua, la guardava e quindi le ho chiesto quante possibilità c’erano per il presidente d’Italia. Mi ha detto tre o quattro. E poi, mi ha chiesto quale candidato che io preferisca per il presidente degli Stati Uniti? Obama o Hillary?
Le ho detto che io preferisca Obama. Secondo me, Hillary è un candidata molto brava però avevo paura che lei non abbia la forza collaborare con i governi stranieri. Questa qualità o qualifica e molto importante per il presidente della gente Americane.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Non ho visto mai...



There are Italian readers on this blog and since the main purpose of the trip is fluency, there are going to be some Italian only entries. I hope they correct my mistakes. Apologize in advance.

Quando ero a Zurico e stavo aspettando per l’aereo per Milano, non ho visto mai nella mia vita tanto Giapponese. Penso che vadano a Milano per fare shopping. Infatti, sono certo vanno a Milano per fare shopping. Non ho ancora aggiornato il Yen contra l’Euro, però mi sembra che sia molto bene per i Giapponese.
C’è sull’aereo una scena tipica. Le donne giovane avevano le macchine fotografiche (molto avvanzate) di cui e le portavano come una collana. Si parlavano in Giapponese e sempre stavano ridendo. Quando siamo arrivati a Milano, siamo montati sull’Pullman per andare l’imbarco. L’autista ha frenato subito e le donne Giapponese si sono muovetati insieme come una scatoletta di sardine.

Nella foto, c’è una modella a La Rinascente.

In the Old Country, but the New part


Visualizzazione ingrandita della mappa

I landed in Milan, got some Euros, and quickly boarded the bus into the central part of the city. My adventure begins and with the exception of my blog, I will forgo all English to ensure a proper learning experience. So, I just start talking to everybody; like the bus drivers. My TIM phone doesn’t seem to want to connect to the network; somehow the SIM card is being rejected by the network. I’ll have to deal with that tomorrow since I have no idea where the TIM store (Centro TIM) is at the airport. If I recall correctly, they are located somewhere in the departures section. Regardless, it’s quite late in the afternoon and they have likely all gone home by now.
Milan is exactly how I remembered it. I passed through customs without a problem (as usual there was no one there). The one time that there was (this is my seventh or eighth trip) I am sure that the only reason that the guard stopped me was to practice English. When you look like me, most people assume that I don’t speak Italian. I’m usually just a tad bit taller (really not that much) than a typical Japanese tourist and I have tanned skin but not too dark. I’m usually mistaken for a Central or South American especially when they see my Spanish surname. I still get that “weirded” out look when I speak Italian.
After passing through customs, there were at least three (by my very quick count and there could have been more) extremely tall women, very well dressed, strikingly fetching. They were surely models either living or visiting for work in Milan. (I don’t think it comes as a surprise to anyone when I say that Milan is the fashion capital of Europe.) They were also likely waiting for their other model friends usually to the delight of myself, all the other lucky dudes at the airport, and the female Japanese tourists. There just wasn’t enough paparazzi to think they were waiting for their footballers. I used to run into the models all the time as my favorite route used to be Paris to Milan (Paris being another fashion capital). This trip might have changed my favorite route to Zurich to Milan but I don’t know if I can give up the great food on Air France.
I checked into Hotel Berna (marked on the map above), a fairly fancy hotel (Four Stars) near the central station (Centrale F.S.). Of course, Giacomo, the person that checked me in wanted to speak in English and no doubt because I flashed the American passport, my confirmation clearly printed in English, and that whole strange looking face thing again. I did my best English language impression with him and retrieved my key. I came back downstairs later to buy internet access and spoke Italian to his colleague. Surprised looks again from both of them especially Giacomo. The hotel was an amazing value (amazing what Google finds) but it was also a reminder that four stars in America is very different from four stars in Europe.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Sometimes you just get lucky


Lucky Swiss
Originally uploaded by Bueno Snippy Snappy
My friend Khider asked me if I had called ahead to SwissAir to see if they had any exit row seats. Well, I did that and for probably one of the few times in my life I was actually too early and they weren’t able yet to assign any seats. So, oh well I thought; I’ll just call back later. Naturally, as it is my typical modus operandi, I forgot to call them back. When I checked in online, I was asked to select my seat and since I wasn’t familiar with SwissAir’s configuration of the A380, I was very much in the dark. I selected 29G and all I can say is take note of that if you ever find yourself on SwissAir’s A380.
Still, when I arrived at the airport I decided to inquire about business class. After hearing the price (for an upgrade, it was double what I paid), I decided that cramped quarters was going to be just fine for me. I decided that my “entertronics” were going to soften the blow.
Low and behold, 29G was a seat just behind one of the bulkheads which basically meant that I had more legroom than business class and just a little less than first. (If the business upgrade was an additional doubling of my fare, I wonder what first costs.) The only differences were of course the bigger seats that reclined into beds and the ottomans in first class. Yes, there were personal ottomans in first class.
All things considered and still safely within my budget, the flight over was amazing.

Off to the Old Country


First off, sorry that I didn't get to call everyone back. My voicemail light is lit and I know that I didn't get to all the phone calls. Thanks for all the well wishes.

I'm officially off to the Old Country (as Tony Soprano would say). I'll be in Siena, Italy for the next month and a half. I won't just be kicking around; I'll be in school (language courses) for at least two weeks and maybe more. I'm very much looking forward to this trip...!!!

Anyway, everyone stay well and I look forward to connecting up with everyone when I get back in April. In the meantime, you can keep track of me right here. I’ll be posting to Flickr and YouTube for those interested in the sights and sounds.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

One Jalopy To Go Please


Registered Owner
Originally uploaded by Bueno Snippy Snappy
I was called to make a deposit into the universe (aka help someone out) and the result of that is shown above. It definitely wasn’t fancy nor was it close to being young in age, but it was really clean and seemed to run pretty well. It made it all the way to the Bay from Cerritos even if there were a few scary moments along the way. Most of those scary moments had more to do with large trucks not respecting “the little engine that could”. Oh what a feeling! Toyota sure knows how to make a car.
A friend of mine told me once that these deposits into the universe are more like investments that pay dividends later. When he told me this several years ago, I was in the process of making another similar deposit and the problem then was that I was seeking my reward(s) in the same secular terms that I had made the deposit in. This time around, seemingly older and wiser, I discovered that I got an immediate return on my investment just not in the same secular sense that I had made the deposit in.
So, below is a list of the dividends that the universe paid me back with:

  1. Alone time. One of my resolutions for 2008 is to spend more time with friends and family. That being said, it was nice to have some alone time to think (about seven hours to be exact) about my upcoming adventure (more on that here) and reflect on all the recent events that put me in the position and state to take the adventure.
  2. Safe, starry night. While fiddling with my iPhone and avoiding the big trucks that were disrespecting the little engine that could, I dropped one of the bottled waters on the floor. I reached down to pick it up and when I looked back up, I noticed that the stars were out. I reflected on that for a moment and enjoyed it for what it was but also realized that this also meant that it was a very clear night in California in February. Not a bad thing for someone that had a long drive in front of them.
  3. This story. Sounds weird but having this story is great. A very close friend of mine accompanied me to pick up this car and while she was driving it, the salesman was asking me what kind of work I did. I told him that I sold computers (that’s usually the easiest way to explain it). According to my friend, the look on his face was priceless. She recounted later that she thought that he was thinking one of two things: a) I’m not good at selling computers, b) I need to sell a lot more of them.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Triple Threat Birthday

Thanks to everyone who came out for the triple threat birthday celebration at Five Feet in downtown LB. Happy B'Day Cleo, Barry, and me. A big thanks to John for the nice dinner and the artisan cakes. I'm still full from eating all that cake.

A big "bird" to the jackhole who hit my bumper that night. Thanks to you I will not only have to get my bumper repaired but also stand in line at the DMV to get my carpool lane stickers replaced. I'm guessing that the note that you left blew away in the wind that night, or perhaps it was eaten by a homeless guy.

Pics here and here.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Stevie Nicks is a class act...even if some of her fans are not


I went to a Stevie Nicks show the other night at the Honda Center in Anaheim, CA. In case you don't know who Stevie is, she's a huge rockstar and she's in that little ol' Rock Star Hall of Fame as part of a band called Fleetwood Mac. So, yes, she's big time and easily one of my favorite musicians and entertainers. I don't know her personally or anything like that but the lady seems like a class act. She's been visiting with our troops and figuring out ways for her and her famous peers to bring iPods to troops.

I had pretty good seats; looking straight on at the stage. Unfortunately, much to my dismay and also to those around me, the people sitting two rows behind me were drunk, rowdy, rude, uncouth, the list goes on. So what's wrong with being a little drunk and loud at a rock concert you say? Well, let me explain.

The event and Stevie's mini concert was actually a charitable event. It was put on by Cal State Fullerton and the university plans to use the proceeds from the event to fund scholarships for students. That's right, educate America's youth. At the same time, Cal State Fullerton, was also using the event to bestow and award one of their highest honors to The Orangewood Childrens Foundation for the charitable and admirable work that they have been doing in Orange County. Well, these five idiots behind me actually booed the award ceremony. Tough to believe but it's true. So, yeah, maybe the event producer laid it on a little thick and tempted the audience a tad too long by dangling the Stevie Nicks carrot, but come on people, boo-ing a charitable foundation that rescues abused children? Was that really necessary?!@#??