shannonrose’s blog

Who are the last five people you called on your cell phone?

1. My student to ask her to come 10 minutes late so I would have time to take a quick shower.

2. My friend to confirm that we were going out last night.

3. The beauty salon to make an appointment, but they didn't answer which reminds me I have to recall them.

4. The woman who will be my boss in July to confirm when I am arriving on Sunday.

5. Another friend to return his phone call that I had missed while at the beach.

So for about a week it had been hovering around 95.

When you don't have air conditioning this means you sort of have to adapt a bit...like, if you want to use your computer you have to point a fan directly at it, or it will overheat and shut down at random moments.  And if you want to sleep, you have to point a fan directly at yourself, because you can seriously feel the heat rising from your mattress.  You don't get dressed in the morning until you are actually going outside, you start to wash your face every time you have to pee, because you see how shiny it is in the mirror, and you make your coffee with about twice as much milk as usual, so that it's nice and semi-cold.

Saturday night I went out a little after midnight and when we got out of the car we both said simultaneously "maybe we should just drive around some more," cause it was still incredibly hot and humid out.  Around 2 am I was standing outside, drinking a deliciously freezing cold Becks, and sweating like a pig.  At 2 am.  Standing still.  Drinking a cold beer. There was no wind at all, and it was just crazy humid. Finally around 3 am it started to cool off a bit.  Of course, by cool off I mean, the temp maybe went down to 85.  I think I went to bed about 4 or so.

I woke up at 5:30, because the sun had already risen, and was sending these pratically palpable waves of heat in under my partially open window (with it's roll down shutter thing). 

Which means that basically the temperature was more or less tolerable for a total of 2 hours -- from 3 am to 5 am.

Sunday was a little bit better -- I think the high was still about 95, but the wind was a bit stronger and also I spent most of the day at the sea, so when it got to hot I could just jump in the Adriatic. 

Yesterday -- oh my god.  I have never ever experienced such heat.  Ever.  And I went to Miami in August.  The basic temperature was somewhere between 110 and 114 (various thermometers said 44, others said 46).  Which is probably already more than the hottest I've ever seen.  The highest I remember seeing was 109.  But then there was the scirocco.  The shee-rohhk-koh is basically a hot wind that comes from Northern Africa.  Usually this hot wind is a little bit hotter than the air around.  Yesterday, I am not exaggerating AT ALL when I say that when the wind blew it felt like a combination of directly blowing a hair dryer and an oven in your face.  The temperature was 110 to begin with no?  And this wind was way way way hotter than the surrounding air.  It was completely crazy.  People in cars without air conditioning were driving around with the windows closed, because it was less hot than letting the scirocco blow in through them.

Last night at 2 am it was still 102.  And that damn hot wind was still blowing.

...Today it's down to about 97...and tomorrow it's supposed to be only 90.  Which in comparison to 110 is pretty damn good.

yay!!!! I can't wait to move!

I actually will have to wait another month or so, because I'm not here all of July, but once August rolls around, it's new house for me.

So I can say goodbye to:

*horrific silverfish.  These lovely insects besides being completely disgusting and fast and apparently devoid of bones, also have the wonderful ability to: a. live without food for six months and b. live happily upon hair and dust.  So you can be a more or less perfect housekeeper and still have these mofos everywhere.

*constant traffic noise.  I will no longer live above a busy bridge/high school/garbage bin collection point.  Which means that I no longer have to choose between not being able to sleep for the heat and not being able to sleep for the noise.  I can now sleep with the (relatively) cool night air coming in from my window with no associated 90mph motorcycles accelerating over the bridge.  (which I swear to god happened just as I was typing this)

*crazy electricity obsessed roommates.  I've bitched about this before I know, but I CAN.NOT.WAIT. to be able to wash my damn clothes when I want to, without having to listen to completely misinformed and inaccurate comments about higher electricity bills.

*the tv in the kitchen being on 18 hours a day

Of course, I will also have to say goodbye to:

*the nice older man at the deli counter at the place where I buy my groceries who always has a really nice smile for me

*living absolutely smackdab in the center of everything, including being only two blocks from the train station

*having (almost) an entire house to myself.  My new house I'll be living with a friend and not a racist provincial, but I'll still have to share the kitchen and bathroom again.

But -- without a doubt the positives waaaaay outweigh the negatives.  I seriously just spent 10 minutes trying to think of other negatives, and the only other thing I could think of is that I know where to buy everything here -- but it won't take me more than a week to find everything in the new place. 

Oh, and the rent costs less, too!

So this is basically just going to be a gigantic feeling sorry for myself post.

My day actually started pretty well.  This morning I went to give an exam to my students, and the first group all did really really well.  I think the lowest score was something like a B+, and two students managed to get over 100% when I added in the 5 bonus points from their conversation with me.

In between this exam and the second one, when I went home for lunch, the sun came out, and then my second group of students all di quite well on the exam with the exception of one who I pretty much already knew would fail it.

Then, I came back home because I was planning on going to get my hair highlighted and cut, but I had forgotten to put the money in my wallet.  So I walked back to my house, in the sun, listening to my IPod all happy.  Until I went up to my room and found that someone had entered my locked room, stolen E150 and relocked the door.

Which outside of the not-insignificant amount of money means that a. someone has the ability to enter my room whenever they want and b. did so.

So I was not real happy.  But then I went to the ATM and got some money and went and got my hair done anyway, and so got pretty relaxed from that 'cause an hour or so of pampering is always a good way to destress.  And then I met my friend Most and we basically walked downtown Bari up and down for about 2 hours, doing absolutely nothing, with the exception of eating a gelato.  So when I got home I was actually fairly relaxed.

Then we had a "meeting" with all of my roommates.  (I was not the first one to have money stolen -- another girl has lost E200 another one E150 and E50 and another one still has had E20 stolen more than once)  One of them started off by talking and going on and on about how she was sure she knew who was stealing the money, continually staring at me, and saying that she wasn't going to name names.  Then immediately after this, she started to say that I was not allowed to have my door closed, because it was suspicious. 

Let me note how my house is set up -- I have a kitchen, a bathroom, and my bedroom that are all separate and attached.  The rest of the women share a kitchen and two bathrooms, and then they each have their own bedroom.  I pay more rent than anybody else, and this house has been set up this way for at least seven years, if not forever. 

So after this woman started saying that it was suspicious that I had my door closed, because they didn't know if I was here or not, two other girls chimed in to say the same thing, one declaring that as far as she was concerned the kitchen and bathroom that had been mine (and that I have spent over E150 decorating and fixing up) were now going to be of public use for everybody.  I responded that first, they could have said something maybe two freaking years ago, and that second, I had no problem leaving the door that leads to my kitchen and my bathroom open, but that my contract with the landlady is for the private use of those areas, and that in addition, even in the case that I would be willing to change that situation, it's not something that would happen overnight.

This then turned into, "you bring strangers into this house all the time for your job."  Ok -- I bring students into the house, yes.  These are ALL, every single last one, either my own personal friends, or friends of friends.  I have never ever given a lesson to a person who could even minimally be considered an actual stranger.  My students also are 100% of the time with me.  I open the door for them, accompany them down the hallway to my room, they sit in my kitchen, we do the lesson, and then I walk them to the door.  It's not like they are wandering the house alone.  I also have a total of about seven students -- it's not like there are dozens of people coming in all the time. 

They then (or really two of them) basically declared that I had to immediately stop having lessons in the house and that if I didn't they would call the cops because I work under the table.  SERIOUSLY.  Given the fact that I'm leaving for the summer in less than ten days (thank god), I basically said that I would absolutely continue doing lessons until next Friday, but that given their concerns (never mentioned until today) I would try to see what I could do to eliminate the problem for September.

So basically, apparently at least two of my roommates think that I am a thief, because I have the gall to CLOSE MY DOOR, and decide that the day that someone steals E150 from me is the day to more or less accuse me of it, and have no qualms about attempting to basically take away my livelihood and my house.

Seriously, there are two things that really truly bother me about this:

1. Someone (and I don't know who) can enter my room whenever they want, when I am out of the house.  So effectively, I have no privacy at all.

2.  At least two or three of my roommates regularly talk behind my back.

I don't want to be a bad roommate -- I go out of my way to not make too much noise because I know the walls are thin, I pay my damn rent on time, I'm always happy to lend people sugar or eggs or whatever, when I have guests or students I keep them quiet and don't cause problems.  And while I actually do understand that having people who are for them strangers coming in the house might be a problem, (and is why I am somewhat willing to compromise on this issue) me closing my goddamn door?! Is not something that I consider offensive or problematic.

Basically, I guess the end of all this is that I'll see what I can do to find somewhere else to live in September.  Because I have no intention of living with people like this anymore.  This isn't the first time that two or three people have apparently talked behind my back for months, complaining to each other instead of simply telling me to my face about the problem.

----

Oh, and one girl? Told me that I was "just like all the other dirty immigrants, just with a different skin color."   

On Thursday, I will be waking up around 4:30 to catch a train.  I will stay on the train for about 9 hours, and arrive in Padova around 2pm.  I will then walk to a job interview, if it goes well do some job training, and then at 10:30 pm will get on another train and return to Bari around 7am on Friday.  Whee!

But but but...the person I am interviewing with has given me a 90% probability of getting the job already, and the job sounds pretty fun and also is quite well-paid.  It's similar to what I did last summer -- teaching English to kids/teenagers, but this time it's in Italy, in a resort with a private beach, swimming pool and tennis courts, and will be for five weeks instead of two.  The only semi-bad part is that it's definitely going to be a lot of work, as there are three hours of English lessons every day, plus another four or so of supervising the kids while they do sports and arts activities.  However, supervising kids while sitting on a private beach is not exactly the worse possible job I can imagine.

In addition to this (cross fingers) job, I have already been hired to work near Urbino in what is apparently an old mine?! at another similar type of school.  This job would be for three weeks, except that if I get hired for the other job, I can only do the first two.  There is no beach but there is a swimming pool, and the work hours are much much less (ie 3 hours a day), and if I understood correctly, it's in the mountains so I can go for long walks and that kind of stuff when I'm not working.  I also am working on accumulating a nice store of dvds and stuff to watch on my good friend my laptop.

...All of this makes me very very happy for a few reasons:

1. I am BORED right now, because I am working very little.

2. Both of these jobs in addition to the pay also give me room and board.  So while I will still obviously have to pay my rent here in Bari, I will not have to pay for any food at all for almost two months which is a pretty damn good way to save money.

3. If I get both of these jobs and actually finally get paid by the university that I work for (which will be a fairly large lump sum) I can probably go to Vietnam!!!!! for three or four weeks in the end of August/beginning of September which is something I have been dreaming about for something like three years. 

4. Between the sports/pools/hiking, I should be in pretty damn good shape and also tan (at least for my ghostly white skin) even before August comes around.

What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?

My absolute absolute favorite flavor is Bryer's Peach.  However, I can almost never find it even when I have the luck to find myself in the US.

After that it's probably Bryer's Strawberry.

Here, I usually order straciatella, which is basically chocolate chunk.  However, there's places that put REAL good chocolate in their ice cream, and places that put this nasty ass crap that tastes kind of like solidified oil.  So I have to be selective.

How many TVs do you have in your house?

Technically, I have one.  It's a 12 inch that I bought used from a teacher who was going back to England for E20 a few years ago.  However, I never ever use it.  I seriously think the last time I turned it on was around December, and that was only to play PlayStation.

I use my laptop as my tv, the screen is a little bigger, definitely way clearer, and it has the advantage of allowing me to watch American tv cause tv in Italy is horrific.  And American films dubbed in Italian are no fun.

Hmm.  I'm not entirely sure if I liked this movie or not, but I think it's worth watching.  It's basically about the most boring man in the world, until about two-thirds of the way through the film. 

A man works in a hotel, doing a job that's not entirely clear at first, interacting (and eavesdropping) on some of the other residents of the hotel.  (one of whom is a woman who must be 75 but is still absolutely beautiful, wrinkles and all)  The protagonist tends to murmur everything, which means you have to really strain to hear what he's saying -- a choice that means that you pay close attention, but also means that somethings you simply don't catch.

It was a bit minimalist for my tastes, but there were two or three shots that were just really gorgeous, and the soundtrack is perfectly blended with the film and gives it a shot of adrenaline when you're just about to fall asleep.

There were a few pieces in the film that made me think that perhaps whoever was responsible for the editing went a little overboard and cut out some scenes that might have made things a bit clearer, or a the least a bit richer in terms of characterization.

I think, also, that the love referred to in the title is a bit more of an obsession or an infatuation than actual love.

The best thing about this film, though, is that it perfectly characterizes the impression that I had of Switzerland -- a beautiful, clean, organized and absolutely sterile place to live, that tends to almost dehumanize the people who live there.

I swear I already wrote this post, but since it's not there...

on good friday I went to a nearby town to see a kind of Via Cruxis thing.  We left Bari about 1am, and arrived in the city around 1:30 or so, and got to the place we needed to be around 2am.  It was dark, as the power was cut in the city center, and the only light was from the candles hanging in some of the streets, and an occassional bonfire.  We waited in the cool night, growing colder as we waited for the procession to arrive.  The temperature was probably about 45-50, but very humid.

After about 15 minutes of waiting, the crowd grew quieter as the first men began to pass.  They were dressed in a kind of hood covering their face, topped with a crown made of what looked like barbed wire, and a long tunic.  They were barefoot, and had a chain about a foot and a half long attached to their right foot.  On their shoulders they carried an enormous wooden cross, the lightest of which must have weighed at least 50 pounds. 

They walked extremely slowly, shuffling their feet over the cold stones, stopping every now and then to switch the cross from one shoulder to the next.

They would continue to do this for about six hours, until the sun came completely up...

Crucifero

It's hard to imagine today someone having the kind of faith necessary to subject theirself to this kind of suffering.  But in this small city, there were at least 50 men willing to do so.  And in addition to the men, there were at least a few hundred citizens who followed with candles throughout the night.

I don't have any deep thoughts or anything to add...just a kind of wonder at what faith does for and to people.

god I haven't written for forever.  Since an "update" on four months is kind of hopeless, I'll just talk about the crazy Scots people who filled my city last week.

See, last week there was a big soccer game here, and so a few thousand Scots invaded my not so big city.  They were pretty easy to pick out seeing as how they all were wearing kilts.

The first morning they were here, I took five of my students out to do interviews with them which consisted of asking these questions:

"What is your name?" (out of a total of seven men, 3 were named Gordon)
"What city are you from?" (all of them were from either Glasgow, Edinburgh, or the surrounding area)
"Do you wear underwear under your kilt?" (5 said no flat out, 2 said it depended on how cold it was)
"Do you wear a kilt at home?" (all said only on special occasions)
"Have you ever been to Italy before?" (all had been at least once before, one guy had been 5x)

A fairly large percentage of them were also somewhat intoxicated.  We conducted these interviews at 11am on a Wednesday.

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This picture I took from my balcony about a half hour before the game.  You can't tell really well, but they made a kind of combination Italian/Scottish flag.  They were also all singing the Do-Re-Mi song from the Sound of Music for some reason.  In this picture it is also not so clear, but something like 500 Scots passed under my house, 95% in kilts, and all singing Do a deer, a female deer, etc etc.  Note the contents of their hands...

That night, after the game, (which Italy won, thank god) I went to the old city with some friends where we proceeded to ask cute Scots to take their pictures with us in their kilts.  They had the kilts on, not us.

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  I was accosted and sloppily kissed on the cheek by a horrifically drunk fat 40-ish Scot.  I also tried to help out a Scot who was doing the potty dance and had BOTH of his hands UNDER his little purse-y thing.  He responded that he didn't need a bathroom, he needed a "_____" (Scottish slang that I didn't understand, but I assume meant something like pussy, given the fratboy laughter of his friends).  However, outside of these two lovely individuals, the vast majority of the Scots, while all intoxicated, seemed to be quite nice.  My friend and I ended up talking to two of them, one who was named Gordon of course, for about a half hour.

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The next night, I again went to the old city where the population of Scottish people was greatly diminished (they'd mostly returned from whence they came) but they were still quite abundant.  Around 1:30, as we were going home, we came across a man (Scottish of course) who was running around stark naked.  He did have shoes on, but that was it.  It wasn't particularly warm that night, either -- maybe in the mid-50s...  We all gaped and then laughed, and then started back on our way home.  Until we saw a cop car coming, and then like all good people, we couldn't walk away from a scandal, so we went back towards where the naked Scot had been.  I ended up acting as in interpreter for the cops and the Scot, cause there was a serious language barrier, that was not helped by the (estimated) 15 beers that the Scot had drunk.  (btw - he was dressed at this point)  The conversation began fairly politely and then as soon as the Scot realized they weren't going to arrest him, quickly degenerated... (apologies for my transcription of the Scottish accent, but imagine Willy on the Simpsons, three sheets to the wind)

Scotsman (bending down and putting head at roughly crotch level): "Yoo've get a small cock."

Police (makes face of confusion mixed with vague understanding and laughs)

Scotsman "Yoo've get a really small cock."

Police (laughs)

Scotsman "Da yoo have chicken nuggets in youer trousers?"

Police officer to me: "Hey don't just translate what he's saying to your friends! That's not fair!"

Me: "Um, I don't think you'd really like what he's saying so much."

This continued for about 10 minutes, then the cop got bored with it and left.

The Scot was exceedingly pleased with himself for what he believed was his destruction of the police officer's ego, and began to loudly proclaim that the police officer would return home and be unable to sleep for worry about his small cock.  And then, to everyone in the near vicinity's great pleasure yelled "that's right you foocking foocker!" 

My friends spent the 10 minute walk to our cars repeating "you foocking foocker" over and over again.