Yaya

I sincerely feel that someone should be taping a reality TV show about my living situation. One of my best friends in the house is a Filipino woman named Veronica. Now remember - there's 10 of us living here. The 6 Italians, 3 Filipino's, and me. There's also this Romanian
woman, Marcheeka, who comes over twice a week to help with the laundry and ironing. The 3 Filipino's all share a bedroom connected to the kitchen. There's Rio, the driver/errand boy who is always playing funny tricks on me. He's the son of Veronica and her husband, whose name I still don't know. He never speaks, and ignores everyone when they try to speak to him. I guess he's just shy, but this man here is in his 50's. He's always doing odd jobs around the house and vacuuming with his giant scary hands. Veronica is wild. She's always talking about her money problems and how hard life is in the Philippines. The Italian kids call her Yaya and she has five children of her own. Rio lives with us, but she has another named Roldon who also works here in Rome. Rio and Roldon are twins, and her four other children's names also begin with the letter R. I asked if Roldon was a typical Filipino name and she told me that she named him Roldon because Ronald Reagan was elected as president of the United States that year. She was forced into an arranged marriage by her grandfather as a teenager, when really she had dreams of becoming a nun. The only reason why I know this is actually because of my friend Shayna. I try to speak slowly and as clearly as possible with Yaya because English is her second language, but sometimes she still doesn't understand my questions. For example, I tried to learn these details myself by asking, "How did you and your husband meet?" She responded by nodding her head and whispering, "Yeah..."
One morning while eating a banana in the kitchen, she took it upon herself to tell me how her children were born. I don't know what made her want to tell me this, but I sat there and listened to her stories anyway. She didn't have any of her children in the hospital. She popped every single one of them out in the kitchen. Except for her second set of twins. That's right - 4 out of the 6 children she has are TWINS. She stared by telling me it was just after midnight in the Philippines, and that she had to use the bathroom. "I had to urinate," she told me. She called out to her husband because she could feel a baby coming, and that it was coming fast. She gave birth to the first child, but was under the impression that she 

was only having one when there was really a second baby up there. WELL... After baby # 1 was born, she held her stomach and looked down at herself and told her husband that she thought there was another on the way. They both started screaming and freaking out because they couldn't afford another. The whole time I was sitting there in silence with my half-eaten banana in my hand, because the image of Yaya giving birth to surprise twins over the toilet obviously ruined my appetite. Forever.
Another little friend of mine in the house is Manfredi. Manfredi is the 12 year old boy here who I adore so so much. He loves watching game shows in the kitchen with Veronica and loves the Montréal-based show Just For Laughs. My favourite thing about Manfredi is that he loves to sing. I can often find him belting out songs in his bedroom and messing up the lyrics because of his English, which of course makes it even more adorable. Just last night I could hear him singing Love Song by Sara Bareilles in the shower. Full-on screaming the song with such passion. His new favourite song is Coldplay's Paradise, and I printed off the lyrics for him to practice. He also is an avid fan of Lady Gaga (all the kids here are) and loves LMFAO's song Sexy And I Know It. If I had a little brother, I would want him to be exactly like Manfredi.
Although this next tidbit of information has nothing to do with anyone in the family, it does have to do with my favourite gelato shop, Fridgidarium. I ventured over there yesterday and thought I went at a good time because there wasn't a line up like there usually is. I came face to face with a closed door and a sign that said, in Italian, "Be open February 15th." I stood there for about five minutes, waiting for the staff members to open the doors and tell me it was a practical joke on their favourite customer, but nothing happened. I really do have to go three weeks without my favourite gelato shop down the street. It wasn't as bad as I thought. In fact, it was great. This one was a lot cheaper than Fridgy and had flavours that they didn't have. I got a sample of the orange and kiwi, but opted for a full cup of strawberry and sour green apple. Yes. I repeat - sour green apple. I went back again today to get more of this delicious fruity sensation of Italian goodness. It was obviously sour and tasted like green apple, but what I didn't expect was the actual chunks of green apple in it.
Later on yesterday, Lodo's little friend Nina came over, and they wanted to make crepes. Basically, what this meant is that they wanted me to make the crepes while they watched 

Teen Mom at the kitchen table. Which is totally fine, because I love making crepes. 

Back To Rome

Finally, I can update you all about ROME again, because my university essay-application-portfolio business is taken care of. For the most part, at least, which means that once again, I am stress free. Wednesday was my best friend Kelsey's birthday who turned 19, and I met up with her at Piazza del Popolo to celebrate. One of the new girls Lexi joined us who comes from Thessaloniki, Greece. The three of us went out for lunch and walked around the city together. 
Today we met up again with the two American au pair guys, Micah and Taylor. The five of us met in Villa Borghese and went to the contemporary art museum where we spent a few hours walking around and appreciating the art. At least we were trying to. The thing is that I really like art, and love going to museums whether its modern, Renaissance, Italian, American, whatever.

Its interesting to me. But I have to admit that I don't understand it. Neither does Micah, who kept making up stories behind the art, causing me to laugh and disturb the annoyed guard from his tough job of sitting in the corner reading a book. I really do try so hard to understand it, but all I can do is stare and appreciate it to the best of my ability. 
The great thing about the museum was that when we were in the Greek mythological Gods and Goddesses, Lexi was able to tell us who everyone was and what the stories behind them are. One of the most interesting parts of the museum was the floor made entirely of broken glass. When you walked on top of the mirror, you could see your reflection broken and it almost felt that you could just fall through it. But there was a thick glass plate over top of it so that you couldn't actually crush the mirror into even tinier pieces.

Through the midst of all this, I'm attempting to figure out some future travel plans before I return to Canada. When my parents arrive in Rome at the end of January, we're going to do some traveling through Venice and Florence. I was attempting to stitch together a plan to visit my friend Taylor who lives in France and a mere 10 minute drive to the Swiss, but unfortunately, I can't find any cheap flights and am starting to figure out where I can actually afford to go while I'm here. 
My friend Glen and sister Nicole are both coming in May and we're planning a trip to spend a few days in London, and then making our way over to Amsterdam, which means that I really have to budget my expenses as best as I can. I've already looked into flights and hostels, and even the prices of specific museums and attractions I want to visit. But Glen reminded me that we will also have to pay for food. With university (hopefully) next fall, I know that I have to save up for tuition and residence or off campus housing, and of
course food, transit, spending money and the large expense of transporting back and forth between the Buffalo and Halifax airport.
Because the past week or two was spent working on university related business, I decided that I already did my time in the stress cell and that I would spend this rainy Friday at home. In the morning I took a long, hot bubble bath while reading the pile of magazines my mom sent me in my last care package, and got pizza from Forno's for lunch.

Where The Wind Blows

I still have that little dream of mine of moving to New York City, but I've also been doing some research and found a really great Journalism program at a university in Halifax. I've never been there and its still quite far from home, but I seem to have good luck when moving to foreign places. 
The question remains unanswered, no matter how many conversations I have with my closest friends, no matter how many times I sit myself down on a bench and think about it, no matter what I do, I still just don't know.
I was with my friend Kelsey yesterday who is in a very similar position, and it makes me feel a lot better knowing that I'm not the only one going through this. Not that I want someone I love to be confused, but it helps knowing that I'm not alone.
I read a really interesting article that my favourite author Elizabeth Gilbert wrote. She wrote it giving advice to aspiring writer's, and one of the most interesting things in it was the following:

I have a friend who’s an Italian filmmaker of great artistic sensibility. After years of struggling to get his films made, he sent an anguished letter to his hero, the brilliant (and perhaps half-insane) German filmmaker Werner Herzog. My friend complained about how difficult it is these days to be an independent filmmaker, how hard it is to find government arts grants, how the audiences have all been ruined by Hollywood and how the world has lost its taste…etc, etc. Herzog wrote back a personal letter to my friend that essentially ran along these lines: “Quit your complaining. It’s not the world’s fault that you wanted to be an artist. It’s not the world’s job to enjoy the films you make, and it’s certainly not the world’s obligation to pay for your dreams. Nobody wants to hear it. Steal a camera if you have to, but stop whining and get back to work.” I repeat those words back to myself whenever I start to feel resentful, entitled, competitive or unappreciated with regard to my writing: “It’s not the world’s fault that you want to be an artist…now get back to work.” 

So, I'm going to take that advice. It's not the world's fault that you wanted to be an artist. Get 

back to work.

Neither Oprah Winfrey or Elizabeth Gilbert, two of my favourite human figures on the face of the earth, had connections that got them where they are today. They did everything on their own accord despite their own failures, rejections, and demotions. In fact, those 'failures' where part of the path that lead them to where they are today. Which gives me hope every time I get confused about my own life path.
Another thing that Oprah once said was to let your passion drive your profession, and then that way, every paycheck is just a bonus for something you love.
Something that gives me great reassurance about my career as a writer is that writing isn't like ballet, where you have to stop at a certain age. As a writer, you actually grow better at what you do. So really... What do I have to lose? Time?

Ancient City Of Prague: Part 11 - 14

I really don't know where to begin with Prague. I guess the way I feel about Prague is the same way that my friend Chris (the British writer) does, because he shares 'a complicated relationship) with the city. 

Day 11 - Saturday, December 31st:

We went to the Old Town while the most fantastic fireworks display lit up the sky behind Prague's most famous castle, and drank a box of wine that only cost us 1 Euro. So you can probably imagine how it tasted. Then we went to an Irish Pub and listened to this live musician who was really great and met this Polish guy. He asked for my age and I told him I'm 18. He didn't believe me, and insisted I show him my ID. I was hesitant but pulled out my licence, and he jokingly took it and tried to put it in his wallet.

Later on that night we ended up meeting some pretty cute Irish guys who were here to celebrate New Year's as well. I welcomed 2012 by dancing in this busy little Irish Pub, and I wouldn't have spent it any other way. On our way home, Magda and I got lost, which was not my idea of fun. But we eventually made it back to Petr's alive. Right before we fell asleep on our pull out bed in the living room, Magda said, "I can't believe we're sleeping in a foreigner's bed." I fell asleep to the sound of my own laughter.

Day 12 - Sunday, January 1st:

We 'czeched' into Hostel Elf, and its definitely a fun place to be. Everything is

decorated in red, orange and yellow. Theres a fridge stocked full of cold beer and free coffee and tea is served 24/7. There were 11 of us in total in the one room. Me, the Canadian, Magda, the Austrian, 2 Swedish guys, 1 sweet timid Japanese girl, 2 Australian students, 1 American guy who slept the whole time, 1 hilarious Italian, 1 professional bartender from Mexico, and 1 South-Korean-born-but-immigrated-to-New-Zealand-at-age-11-but-currently-working-and-living-in-Hungary girl. We all shared stories about our homelands and travels and drank free tea. The Korean (or New Zealander) girl and I had a lot in common, and the Italian guy, Giuseppe, was absolutely hilarious. He's from a city just south of Naples and I don't think I've ever laughed so hard before in my entire life. After a while, we all noticed this huge plate of lettuce. I can't call it a salad, because it

wasn't. It was as though someone had taken two giant bags of lettuce and just dumped them onto the plate. Well, it turned out to be Giuseppe's dinner. I told him if he was a real Italian, he would have it with olive oil, and OH - he pulled some right out of his backpack. Of course. I asked the Swedish guys if they could describe Sweden for me, and they said it was 'boring and expensive'. The guy from Mexico is a professional bartender, and is actually in Europe because he's competing in several bartending competitions. 

Today we did all the touristy things in Prague, and I really do love this city. One of my favourite things about visiting Prague was the hostel, which feels a bit like a summer camp because we're all strangers and sleeping in bunk beds. Meeting all these interesting people is one of the best parts about my trip here.

Day 13 - Monday, January 2nd:

It was our last day in Prague and we hungout with our friends in the hostel for the last time and lazily walked over the Charles Bridge. We saw the John Lennon Wall which was really inspiring and beautiful. We ate lunch at this cute little baguette shop and I had the most delicious sandwich of my life. It sas called Svycarska and had emmenthal, brie, blue cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, walnuts, and roasted onions. Magda and I both thought it was kind of funny that our best meal in Prague was a sandwich. We took the metro back to Petr's house after to say thanks and get our car, and then drove back to Salzburg. I've never done so much travelling in so little time.

Day 14 - Tuesday, January 3rd:

Today we slept in which was heavenly. We just spent the day walking through Magda's neighborhood and took a really nice drive through the mountains. For dinner we ate vegetables and these delicious Austrian dumplings. We watched a movie, and then I had to shove all my crumpled clothes and souvenirs into my teensy tiny little black suitcase. Tomorrow I go back to Rome.

Vienna The Beautiful: Part 6 - 10

It was only appropriate for me to title this post 'Vienna The Beautiful', because it really is. The city is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. Before I left for Vienna, all mein freundes told me that I was "just going to die when I get to Vienna, because it really is like heaven." Its nicknamed 'the city of dreams', because the great professor Sigmund Freud lived there. It was also home to Ludwig van Beethoven.

Day 6 - Monday, December 26th:

Magda and I arrived in Vienna around 1 in the afternoon and got a call from her friend saying we couldn't go to the flat until 6. There was also a British couple staying here who had both sets of keys and were out for the day, so we walked around Vienna for a bit and went to a castle to get a leg up on our sightseeing. We ate dinner at a Chinese restaurant, which I was really excited about. Unfortunately, Rome doesn't have much variety when it comes to their food options. Its pretty much all Italian, which is great, but sometimes I crave Chinese, Mexican, Greek, etc. and then this becomes a problem. But no - not in Vienna! In fact, I haven't had Chinese food since I lived in Canada.

At 6 we finally went to the flat. The first thing you see when you walk into the house is literally the shower, which is propped up onto a wooden box crate that makes you feel like you're stepping into a space shuttle when you have a shower. Then there's a little stove, a sink, and shelves stocked with food. Then theres the bedroom that Christopher and Sarah (the British couple) slept in. And the last room was full of interesting paintings, large windows, dog eared books, and red plush couches. This is where Magda and I slept, and also where Christopher and Sarah did their work. In case you think I forgot about the bathroom, I didn't. There isn't one, so if mother nature calls, we had to shuffle on down the hall to the shared bathroom with the neighbors.

Chris is a filmmaker who we actually saw earlier on the street earlier that day. "The funny thing is," he told us, "I was on the phone with Sarah at the same time she told me that there would be two more guests in the flat. And here you are." Its funny how life works sometimes.

Sarah made us tea and Chris told us stories about Prague, a city in which he shares a "complicated" relationship with. He showed me a copy of his book. We spent the night listening to The Beatles, drinking tea, and sharing stories while Sarah baked an English pie. So far I can tell that Vienna is well structured with tall white buildings, impressive Gothic churches, and lot's of castle. Its exactly what I imagined.

I remember the first thing I said when I stepped off the train to Vienna was, "It smells like Toronto here." What? Was I still drunk from the night before, or was it my unconscious mind saying things that you only think about in a sleepy state of mind? Even I confused myself by saying this. Or maybe it was accurate by the amount of fruit stands, fake Italian pizzerias, and Chinese restaurants.

Day 7 - Tuesday, December 27th:

Magda and I were able to walk to the city centre from out flat. This was great because we got some excersize, and were able to stop and take pictures. Plus, I'm trying to spend as little as I can, and a bus ticket one way costs a whole 1.80. We saw all of Vienna's beautiful sites and went inside the oldest university which still had a Christmas tree standing proudly in the entrance. We went to the Museum of Natural History which was actually very interesting. We were surprised because it was free admission for those 19 and younger. 

Day 8 - Wednesday, December 28th:

When we got home that night, I read an article about the graffiti problem in Vienna. I thought this was hilarious, because I haven't seen any graffiti at all. Chris also laughed and said that on his way to Vienna, his friend was driving him and Sarah around while explaining the different sections of the city to them. They drove through the 'bad' part of the city, which Chris described as a semi-poor neighborhood with a shop selling organic cookies.

Day 9 - Thursday, December 29th:

Today we went downtown and ventured into St. Stephan's Cathedral. We went to Karlzplatz, the old train station, and went inside the Belvedere castle and museum. We were obviously hungry after and decided to have our lunch at this festive Greek restaurant that looked small from the outside, but was huge on the inside. I ate warm pita bread and a delicious salad with blood red tomatoes, ripe black olives, and crisp onions served on a fresh bed of romaine lettuce. It also had saganaki in it, which is fried feta cheese and tastes like it was crafted by the Greek Gods themselves. 

Later on, we found the bookstore Shakespeare & Co. where Christopher's book was sold. I was dying to visit it because I wanted him to sign it before we had to go back to Salzburg. 

The book is called Travels Through Absence - Letters From The European City. It's my most prized possession from my whole Christmas trip.

The salesperson excitedly told me that I should come back on January 19th, because the author was going to do a book reading that night. I smiled at her and told her that I'll be living back in Rome at that time, and that it was ok, because I could have the live thing that night. She asked me how, and I told her that I was currently sharing a flat with Mr. Thomson and his wife/fiancée/girlfriend (I didn't know what they were, to be honest). She got so excited that she stamped my copy with an official Shakespeare & Co. stamp, gave me a bookmark, and told me to please tell Mr. Thomson that she is looking forward to his book reading. I promised I would, and off I went. When we arrived back at the flat, Magda and I told him everything and he thought the whole scenario was great.  Sarah is currently in the process on writing a book about honey bees and doing research for it, while Chris taps away on his iMac for his soon to be newest masterpiece.

Day 10 - Friday, December 30th:

We took the train back from Vienna, which was a lot more enjoyable than the first. Which isn't saying much, considering my hangover from Lust House. Anyway, today we are back in Salzburg, where I was able to take a long hot shower, pack my bag for Prague, and get a good sleep for our 5 hour car ride to The Golden City.

If anyone is interesting in ordering Christopher Thomson's novel 'Travels Through Absence: Letters From The European City', please click on the link provided by amazon. 

http://www.amazon.ca/Travels-Through-Absence-Letters-European/dp/0956940404

Mozart & Mountains: Part 1 - 5

Honey, I'm hoooome! In Rome, that is! And I'm so excited to talk about the past two weeks I've had. But before I go into the juicy details of the beginning of my trip, let me tell you how good it feels to be back in the Eternal City. I ran around the whole city and said 'bonjourno' to everyone and of course had lunch at my favourite pizza shop. Then I ventured over to Frigidarium for dessert (for a mix of raspberry, coconut and sour cherry gelato with hot nutella on top, of course). The family is still away on their vacation and won't be back until Saturday, which gives me a few days to do whatever my exhausted little heart desires. They went to the mountains for Christmas, but its the dad's 50th birthday, so they decided to extend their vacation and go to Paris. He loves Paris, and they have an endless cash flow, so why not?

By the way, when I say 'exhausted', I really mean it. Travelling takes a lot out of a person, and when I came back to Rome, all I wanted to do was curl up under the covers into my fresh bedsheets and have a 12 hour long snooze fest. I decided to do my laundry and unpack first. 

Day 1 - Wednesday, December 21st:

I got a taxi to the Ciampino airport with a driver who appeared to be the long lost twin brother of Albert Einstein. Which was quite fitting, considering I was on my way to Germany. I've always liked flying, but ever since I had to do everything on my own, airports are no longer my friend. I celebrated this by ordering a small plate of pasta and a tall bottle of cold beer before my flight. A weird combination, but I wanted something Italian and German.

When I got on the plane, I fell in love with this flight attendant whose name tag said "Joao".  The flight was fine, and when we landed I was very excited to see that Germany was blanketed in snow. And when it was time to collect our luggage, guess whose bag was the first to pop out? Mine! Oh, happy day! After that I was able to go find Magda, and we played 21 questions on the drive home.

Her house is roughly half the size of my old high school with cedar wood interior design and a view of the mountains. My bedroom was a big beautiful art loft with a huge bed and a bright orange blanket. I felt happy and energized just looking at it. I had a window right above my bed where I was able to watch the fresh snowflakes fall.

Day 2 - Thursday, December 22nd:

Salzburg is a really classy little city filled with perfectly preserved sculptures and houses literally built into mountains. Being there made me want to break into song and run around

the city singing The Hills Are Alive like Julie Andrews in The Sound Of Music. Austria is famous for their Christmas markets, and I got to eat so many tasty Christmas treats. Mini apple cookies, hot cider, and don't even get me started on the fudge... One of my favourite things that I got to do in Salzburg was see the house where Mozart was born. I got to see the building where chocolate cake was invented. Later that night we came home and drank mulled wine, which is hot wine with cinnamon. Her mom has a bunch of travel albums that we leafed through, including Rome.

Day 3 - Friday, December 23rd:

We went to the Christmas markets again. I had another pretzel. It was a good day.

Day 4 - Saturday, December 24th:

Today we took the dog, Ella, for a walk by the mountains and lake. I think I've definitely become accustomed to the weather in Rome, because I was freezing. I guess I forgot what a real December is supposed to feel like. 

Day 5 - Sunday, December 25th:

We drove to Upper Austria to celebrate with the family and it was so much fun. I especially loved Magda's opa (grandfather), and this man really loved me back. He kept telling Magda that he thought I was so sweet, and he reminded me a bit of my own papa at home in Canada who I'm extremely close to. Magda's uncle and his long time girlfriend recently did some travelling through the U.S and also went to Toronto and Niagara Falls, and brought their photo album along which was really exciting for me.

After we all had dinner, we went over to Magda's friends' house who owns a small bar built in. Eventually we went to Lust House. Of all the clubs I've ever been to, Lust House was the best. This isn't good considering it wasn't in a big city and I'm over here living in Rome. I'll have to talk to Alfredo about that.

I felt out of place at first because I didn't know we were going clubbing, and so I just wore a pair of jeans, black ballet flats, and a rumpled pinstriped long sleeve polo while all the other girls were wearing 5 inch heels and  tight dresses. I was pulled up on top of a stage and danced with these lovely people. I got really hot because 1) I was dancing, 2) I was smushed between 2,000 other sweaty people's bodies and 3) I was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. A bad combination in a sweaty setting. So, I kicked off my shoes and tied the bottom of my top and tucked it into the top Western style. Those two Austrian girls pulled Magda aside and asked her if 'this was normal in Canada'. Magda defended me and told them this was normal all over world.