Life as a Trainhopper

11:24 PM, GMT+1

I don't even know if that's a word, but I think it describes me pretty well. At least after I got yelled at by the Trenitalia Nazi for not marking down a usage on my Eurail pass on the way back from Venice.

Ah, Venice. Beautiful city filled with the sweet smell of dirty canal water, gondoleers making obscene gestures at each other and laughing while dumb tourists take pictures, 60-year-old brides, private, tiny wineries, and more gelato than I could fill my happy little stomach with.

I'm not going to go into detail of what I saw, but rather what I experienced. Everyone has a general idea of what the place looks like. If you don't, I have pictures that will give you one.

Brittany took a train to Milan early Friday morning, and from there, we took a nice, uneventful ride to Venezia (veh-NET-see-ah. I keep pronouncing it wrong).

It was gorgous, and we spent most of our time doing what couples do in Venice. That's right- eating. We ate and ate and ate. Pizza, chocolate, gelato, nothing was safe from our ravenous hunger.

The hostel we stayed in was outside of the city. It was cheap, and it was a youth hostel. It was quite an experience. We had to deal with grumpy bus men and obnoxious Australians on a daily basis.

Coming back was a downer. Not only did I get yelled at by Hitler's granddaughter for not marking the trip on my Eurail pass (why wouldn't they just do it? Wouldn't that save them the trouble? Idiots), but I had to say goodbye to Brittany and see her off at the train station. I said goodbye painfully, then it was back home to play some calcio to try to get some of that delicious gelato out of my system. I started getting mildly sick, and not only that, I had a shitty game. I doubt they're related, though.

In other news, classes have started this week, as did work. As far as my classes go... I hate my Post-Industrial Business in Milan class. My teacher pretty much changes class days and times whenever she feels like it. That includes moving some to Saturdays. Is nothing sacred?!

Work was fun. It was interesting to deal with tiny tots during Monopoly. Eh, I'll turn them into cutthroat American businessmen before my time is up, though.

Oh. And I've been asked to play in a 5-on-5 Calcio tournament with the Italians in Tuscany this weekend. I dunno what that means- maybe there's a Destroy-The-American division.

Pictures to come.

I'm Asian. Of course I can play ping-pong.

10:32 PM, GMT+1

WE BEAT THE CHINESE GUYS. Oh yeah. I went there. Pietro and I beat them. So step one of my goal to annex the Collegio in the name of America is complete. The whole night at dinner, I was telling Pietro that my goal was to beat Shan before the end of the semester. He kept telling me that it was only a dream.

And then we won. Hah. Right in yo' fayce. Then Vincenzo and I beat Pietro and this girl who was pretty damn good.

Alright. As for the rest of my day, I went to a friend's apartment and did my laundry, because my bank company apparently thinks I'm committing fraud and won't let me take money out. So it's all sitting in their apartment, drying out.

Then I got another boxing lesson, and in return, instructed Diego in the art of kicking. Got some dinner. And PLANTED THE AMERICAN FLAG ON THE PING-PONG TABLE.

Vado a Venezia! Soon, at least.

10:11 PM, GMT+1

Alright, so here's the deal. I've got homework to do, so I'm going to make this brief. I bought train tickets to Venice today, and am super, super excited.

Also, last night, I got to taste grappa. The sh*t's strong. It kinda tastes like demonic urine mixed with what may have been grapes three hundred years ago. But it's not bad.

I'm also getting better at ping-pong. The Italian way here involves dinner, a lot of talking, then some more talking in the lounge or some games like ping-pong or foosball. Federico and I almost won. Almost. Dammit. I swear- I will be better than the Italians in everything before I leave. I'm adapting my pong style to the Chinese oddly-held method. And y'know what, they're onto something. It's pretty good.

Okay. Things to do, people to see, so I'll head out. Oh, and mom and dad, your chocolate's almost gone.

Call me an Italian Blue-Collar man

10:23 PM, GMT+1

I got the job today, and I'm pretty excited about it. It literally involves playing board games with Italian pre-adolescents and speaking nothing but English. However, they are very limited hours, and I'm still trying to find another job that I could work at steadily.

Yesterday involved more calcio with the Italians. Now all I do is run a whole lot when I play with them. And they know I run, so they put me in a position where I can run pretty freely. But it was kind of boring and uninspiring- felt like no one was really into it.

The weekend, for the most part, passed by without a major incident. Just some hanging around friends' apartments, and that's about it. Next weekend, however, I get to see the most incredible person I know.

Also, I'm starting to pick up ping-pong. You know, it's not an exaggeration- Chinese people really are good at it. Yes, I said Chinese. There's a Chinese immigrant here who rules the table, and constantly kicks my ass. Actually, I've been getting my ass kicked in everything here. It's really disheartening- the Italians are better than me at literally everything.

Oh. By the way- I had to take this personality test as part of the selection process. We're talking a legitimate personality test- the readings were eighteen pages long. Had some funny stuff in it too.

Alright. I'm out.

My IES advisor is in a Queen cover band

10:46 PM, GMT+1

And he's pretty good, too. Thanks, Walter.

Check out the pictures down below!

Speaking of which. Not much has been up lately, but I am looking for a job and may have found one. I've sent and received a few e-mails with this one lady, and we'll see where it goes from there. It could go a long way towards helping me out in Italy.

I also have an exam tomorrow-- hooray.

Did I mention that I have Finding Nemo in Italian? Well, I do. And Beauty and the Beast. And Ratatouille. And Borat. And the Emperor's New Groove.

I love Italy almost as much as I love Brittany.

"Hey... wanna go to Switzerland?"

1:25 PM, GMT+1

By the way, this will be a somewhat extensive blog.

I've been away from the blog for awhile because I was busy getting fat on Swiss chocolate. Yes, I said it.

La mia ragazza, Brittany, visited me, and we decided to visit Switzerland on a whim. The weather wasn't nice enough to go see Lake Como, and we bought tickets to go to the land of milk, honey, chocolate, and financial centers. It was fabulous.

It was an hour and a half to get to Lugano, which is at the Southeastern tip of Switzerland-- we arrived around . The train station was up a mountain, and to climb down we had to walk along these winding roads, around various buildings that had a modern (yet pretty) look to them. Just imagine walking down cobblestone roads, between old churches and modern apartments, old houses and modern parking lots, etc. We came to a straightaway, and looming there before us...

...was a massive, beautiful lake. From where we were, we could see the lake stretching into the distance, winding between several mountains until the eye couldn't follow it anymore. It was crystal-clear, and reflected the light of the various houses that rose up the face of the mountain. To our left were shopping centers, and yet they only added to the beauty by allowing their numerous, linear lights reflect off of the surface of the water. At nighttime, the moon rose between the twin peaks of the mountains in the distance, only partly obscured by the wispy clouds that passed by. The lights of the houses formed a picture without purpose, yet had all the beauty of one that did. I felt like I could lean on the railing, watching that beautiful bit of scenery for the rest of my life. I guess it might have also helped that I had my chin on Brittany's shoulder, and my arms around her, shielding her from the biting--yet refreshing--cold.

Enough of the description, though. I wanted to look for chocolate, because the lake was always going to be there. We weren't, and the stores were all closed at 5. We arrived at 5:07.

I was getting mucho angry, because I needed my Swiss chocolate fix. Brittany decided to walk into some department-type store called CoopCity, and lo and behold- chocolate upon chocolate. Upon chocolate. I pranced through the aisles of confectionary while bluebirds dropped daisies before my feet.

But seriously. Chocolate. I was hunting for this one type of Lindt chocolate that my mom wanted, but I couldn't find it. It didn't really matter. There was all that chocolate. I went and blew 20 Swiss Francs on chocolate bars, which I should send home, but if my parents fail to make a decision soon, will no longer be in existence.

We were hungry, so we ate in a Swiss McDonalds, where I got a BEEF LATIIIINO. Which was a piece of lettuce and a runty patty on ciabatta bread. There were a couple of kids playing Fifa '08 on the PS3 Mickey D's had set up.

We walked around outside and ogled at all the chocolate and chocolate pastries the closed shops had on display. Eventually, our meanderings brought us to this big white tent with a big plastic chess set. Like, big. As in two-and-a-half feet tall pieces.

We started playing chess, and I explained the game to Britt while we played. Although she didn't really need much help- she was better than she was letting on. Anyhow, we were playing for awhile and people were beginning to gather around us to watch the game. Eventually, some chubby Swiss guy smoking a cigar started to help her. Needless to say, I was destroyed pretty quickly. As I later found out, there was a chess tournament beginning in twenty minutes, and all of these people were to be the competitors.

We just sort of meandered all over Lugano before we had to head back to the train station, and ended up in the grocery next to the station. Britt tried to buy a nutella-dipping snack and failed when she came up a franc short. I spent all of my money on chocolate, so... I was unable to assist.

We went back, and that was that. Goodbye Switzerland... hellooooooooooooo chocolate.

The next day was spent wandering about the history of Milan- the Castello, the Duomo, etc. We found a museum that cost 1.50 a person, and it had a whole bunch of ancient weapons to appease the geek in me. The rest of the day was... well, really, really bittersweet, but that's a story for another time. Let's just say that Britt left on a train and I missed calcio.

So, Monday. Where to begin... we got our tests back, and I did well enough on my Italian exam. Went to go get a permit to stay, got permitted to stay, went home, and went to the gym. Where I ended up fighting with the Collegio's local boxing instructor because he asked me to. It might be a good idea to get a mouthguard sometime soon. Oh, and I went to the music room and played la chitarra for a little. I'm beginning to feel like Italians are just better at me than everything. Dammit.

Claudio, my neighbor, invited me to hang out in his room with Matteo, Luca, and Amos. I ended up taking a whole bunch of movies from Claudio to practice my Italian. We also had an in-depth discussion about linguistic differences, and slang. I was there for like three hours.

Today I sat in on an Italian class that was a level up. It was extremely difficult, yet fun. We went to an outdoor market and just hung out for a few hours. And now I'm here.

I wish my CD burner worked.

Then I wouldn't have to listen to Little Red Corvette while I work out, because it's the ONLY FRIGGIN' CD THE ITALIANS HAVE.

"You play soccer like an American."

10:55 PM, GMT+1

Eric tutored me for like an hour on the uses of c'e, ci sono, e, and sono. It was a long and very
confusing lezione. However, we got to talking about calcio, and apparently, I already have a reputation for being "aggressive". What that means, I guess, is that I play ugly soccer, and more importantly, I play like an American. I asked Manuel at dinner if he'd show me how to play like an Italian, and he just laughed. "When Americans come here and try to play, they are generally very fit. But they have no technical skill. You have more than most of them did."

I took that to mean that I have a lot to work on, because the next time they won't be so nice to me.

Got to use the gym for the first time today, too. It was exciting. I've never been in a gym all by myself. But I had issues converting kilos to pounds. The whole time I was lifting I was trying to run quick numbers in my head. In the end I just gave up and lifted whatever I felt like putting on the bar.

We went to get some free food with the girls after dinner tonight. Not much to tell- "international night" apparently involved plenty of free food.

Oh, and the late-night doorman knows my name and my room number already.

FINITO!

8:57 PM, GMT+1

I had a physical today so I could use the Cattolica gym. This old Italian guy who spoke very fragmented English conducted it. It was pretty average, but I thought it was pretty funny how he had to tell me that it was over about twelve times. It finally ended with him bellowing "FINITO!" at me, and me running out after grabbing my notebook and iPod.

And then I fell down the stairs on the way back to the lounge.

Oh, and it seems now that I played calcio with the guys, I've made a whole bunch of new friends. They all seem to know my name... weird.

Calcio

10:16 PM, GMT+1

Well, I played a little futbol/calcio/soccer with the Italians today. And you know what... it was damn fun.

Most of them are pretty good, but I was able to hold my own. They told me I did pretty well afterwards, but maybe they just didn't want to tell me I sucked.

Italians are very organized about their pickup games. They have pennies and positions. Well, two of them, at least-- offense and defense. I was on defense. And I got to mark the two fastest guys on their team.

I missed three shots... my first one was embarrassing. It hit the top crossbar when the goalie was on the floor. My second shot was a header off of a corner kick that went inches wide of the right goalpost. My last one was left-footed, and passed over the top of the crossbar by inches as well.

The compliments I was getting from the Italians after the game was that I was "powerful". Now I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. It could be the equivalent of calling me a big ugly brute.

I had the chance to speak with one of the Italians after the game. He used to get paid to play. Apparently, he played in whatever league comes after Serie C. Which is still pretty good. Anyway. They play every Sunday, and I'm really tired. Hopefully I earned a little respect today. If I didn't, well, next Sunday's gonna be a long one.

What- no, I DON'T want any of your god damn freaky-freaky!

2:42 AM, GMT+1

Travel tip #467: Don't EVER walk from Pta. Genova to Famagosta by yourself.

So I had to walk home tonight. Which was cool and all... Pta. Genova was only one stop away from Famagosta.

Except I made three huge mistakes: Pta. Genova is two stops away, not one, the stops are a lot farther than they seem, and there are plenty of whore-infested main streets in Milan.

So I walked around 22 cm... on my map, that is. According to the map, 1 cm is about 200 meters. So I walked 4400 meters. That's 4.4 kilometers. So let me introduce you to a new term I discovered. It's called RFF, which stands for Really F*cking Far.

Milan can be pretty scary for someone unfamiliar with the city at night. It didn't help that I made the mistake of asking a prostitute for directions about half-a-second before I realized she was a prostitute.

"Ciao!" She smiled cheerily at me and hiked up her white miniskirt. "Ciao," I replied. She rattled off something in Italian, and I told her I didn't understand because I was American.

"Ah, speak english.... uh... freaky-freaky!" I quickly gave her a negative. "No no no. I just want to know how to get to Famagosta."

"Eh... 50 Euro and I go with you wherever you like!"... This is why I think english should be the global language.

"Er... no. Dov'e Famagosta," I asked, backing away slowly. "Famagosta?" She just smiled and shrugged.

Now let's rethink this whole loving Italy thing...

Checkmate. And 10-0.

5:00 PM, GMT +1

Not much to tell today. I studied Italian, went to the music room and played a little, and just kinda goofed off. I was really bored...

Then I went up against a very good chess player, and almost beat her. And then she managed to twist things around and put me in checkmate. But hey, at least I have a little of her respect now- she was from Britain, and I think she was looking forward to a nice game of pummel-the-colonial. But I gave her a good run.

Now in foosball, on the other hand... first game I played, Roberto and I won pretty handily. Second and third games... the local foosball champions spanked us. Twice. 10-2 and 10-0.

Probably gonna wander around the streets of Milan in the next couple of days.

"Tu sei americano?"

2:25 PM, GMT +1

Last night around sette, we went to a little event called an aperitivo, which seemed like a chance to eat and drink before you eat and drink. Of course, I'm still waiting for my drink which never came.

Afterwards, I accompanied Lauren and Elise back to their apartment so they could safely wander the streets of Milano at nighttime. I was still exhausted from the three hours of sleep I got the night before... Old Fashion might have been the death of me.

We relaxed and then decided to go to to Drew, Ryan, and Leif's apartment for a little while. Can't say I remember much- I was so tired that I could barely keep my eyes open.

Now here's the scary part. After the 7-block walk back to the metro station, I was the only one who was taking the green line home. Everyone else was on the red line. So I said goodbye to them at the station, and hopped into the metro, where there were about three people on the entire train, and two of them were in my car.

Keep in mind that it was around 12:15, and the trains stop running at 12:30. I had a half-hour before my station came up, so I closed my eyes for a little. When I opened them, the train was empty, and the sign above my head showed St. Agostini. I had missed my stop on the last train to my station.

I was praying the train would stop, but the next two stations we passed were completely dark, and we didn't even stop at them. I thought I was gonna end up on the other side of the city, and I'd have to drag my Euro-less ass back home on foot.

Then I looked at the map on the train, and remembered that Famogosta was the next stop. And when we stopped, the ugly green sign that hung above the station never looked more beautiful to me. I crawled back home slowly, greeted Franco the doorman, went into my room, and passed out.

The next morning, I had a language exam for IES. Well, at least I thought I did. But since I was in Italian for Dummies 100, we just had normal class.

I planned on waking up at 7:30 and taking my time. Instead, I got up at 8:30, threw on a shirt, ran downstairs to the cafeteria, and wolfed down my brionche (croissant), aranciata (orange juice), and whatever the italian word is for mixed-berry yogurt. I got some funny looks from the three people in the cafeteria. I don't think Italians normally finish any kind of meal, no matter how small, in under a minute.

On the way out, I held the gate open for this Chinese student. He looked at me while we both walked towards the metro, and he said, "Tu sei americano?" I replied, "Si, sono americano." Then he said something else in italian that I could not understand. I just kinda blankly looked at him.

He smiled. "What are you doing here," he asked in english. We just talked, and I discovered that he was merely studying in Italy. He was a chinese student who learned italian and happened to know a fair amount of english.

Yay American education. Anyhow. The rest of the day was pretty bland. Went to class, was still tired, went home, ate lunch, passed out for six hours, woke up, got lost, got lost twice more, then ended up in a friend's apartment for dinner.

Damn, I love Milan.

Il Metro, Linea Due. Destinazione: Famogosto.

5:43 PM

We were taken on a fifty-person tour of the area around the Duomo. Apparently, they varied in age even among the buildings in the square. However, it was a little difficult to hear the tour guide when you're thirty people back. Andrea and I realized that we were in some ancient castle... and had no f-ing clue about what it was called, when it was built, or even its historical significance. Thanks, IES. Now I have to go back by myself and try to figure it out.

Afterwards, I had the chance to stop by at a friend's apartment, and visit another supermercato. I purchased some cheap-ass Italian shaving cream, some razors, and six liters of water. The water only cost me 1.20 Euros, which is pretty damn good. I just didn't want to drink out of the sink anymore. When we were checking out, and I was being shouldered aside by a three-foot-six Italian grandma with an armful of leeks, I kinda turned my head to the side and zoned out while the seated cashier lazily rang folks up. A few seconds later, I belatedly realized that I was staring at the eye-level condoms the supermercato had strategically placed next to the register.

Oh, I had to bag my own groceries, too. And buy the bags.

I rode the subway by myself for the first time here. Not that that's a big deal- I'm just surprised that I didn't get lost. Nearly, but no. Took a little bit, but now I'm more familiar with the city. Strangely enough, I'm really starting to like it, with all of its smog and general grossness.

Oh, and just now I had two Italians bust into my room for a room check to make sure everything was working, then gasp when they saw that I was half-naked.

Looks like I'm gonna have to get back into the gym.

Orientation... and beyond!

Time: 5:06 PM.
Location: Collegio di Milano, in my air-conditioned room. Hell. Yes.

I finally figured out how to use the air conditioning, so I'm gonna take this opportunity to do some bloggage.

Orientation was... really cool. I met a whole bunch of new people, including four other Santa Clarans. Surprise! But they're a good bunch...

It was at a "farm hostel". In other words, our meetings and dinners had a very rustic feel to it due to the random farm implements hung up on the walls, as well as old sewing machines in every lobby. Oh, and I can't forget the wagon wheels strategically placed every so often.

There was also a beautiful, hotel-like pool with a diving board. Needless to say, our breaks generally consisted of lying out poolside in various stages of undress. But I managed to avoid wearing the speedo, although it was damn tempting.

We took walks through the vineyards as well, and some of the girls decided to sample wine-grapes. Most of them weren't impressed. We "frolicked and romped" through every vineyard we could find, however, because it was exciting for most of us. I've never frolicked through a vineyard. Cherry farm, yes, but never a vineyard.

Orientation itself was pretty boring. A whole lot of yapping and reading, some of which I'm sure was important but that I probably missed.

As soon as we drove back to the city, they made the collegio kids grab their stuff and hop right back on the (special) bus. Like everything else in Milan, the Collegio was fugly on the outside, and very nice on the inside. So check this... the dorms are completely surrounded by a fence. You have to ring a bell on the fence so the doorman will let you in. You check your key with the doorman when you leave and retrieve it when you return. There's a foosball table, a ping-pong table, a chessboard, and a huge home theater system downstairs in the various lobbies, and an extremely nice gym.

I'm starting to like this gig... we even got invited to play some calcio with the Italians. It will be interesting to get my ass handed to me in a foreign country.

Arrival

10:51 AM, GMT +1

I'm exhausted. I've been up since 11 AM PT, and I've had two egg mcmuffins, a bread roll, a danish, two servings of wannabe orange chicken, a tray of airplane food, and a danish that was about 2 square inches. I am tired.

I'm in Milan, in a "student lounge" room that's smaller than my dorm room, smelling like a pair of old, wet socks. Covered in deoderant. And I'm waiting for the bus to take me to a farm for orientation. A farm.

What can I say about Milan? It's a city. It's a city with an ugly exterior, but also an ugly interior.

I'm preparing to conquer it very soon. Armed with nought but my wit and a 2-megapixel camera (thanks mom), I shall create a beautiful side of this ugly, ugly city.