My Other Job

What i was working on before i left:


It's a two-sided picture frame, took me a few months (ideas come quick, real work is tough) but finished it before i left. The outside is a simple red oak with an inside groove wide enough to hold a piece of glass, white matte board, newspaper, black matte board, and the cut wood (also red oak veneer). The Japanese girls i met while traveling in Kenya said the characters were indeed very legible.


What i'm working on now:


Yes that's me, and from the length of the hair, the Cass beer in my hand and the dry, rocky plains surounding me, you can tell i'm in the Gobi Desert, Mongolia. Figured it was time i went through some of those old travel photos, not to mention i have a Plan for some of them.

(so the French guy we were travelling with says to me, "Why do you Americans feel the need to wear shirts and caps proclaiming where you're from?" I look at his Quechua brand jacket and bag and respond, "Why do you feel the need to advertise a native language from my home country?")

Bella Roma

Spent yesterday walking around and eating pizza at various sites - Vatican City, Piazza del Popolo, Termini, Villa Borghese, the Pantheon, the Colloseum.

Met Maudy (friend from high school) about the old times, the new times, the differences between the two, traveling, staying put, and all those things that you can only talk to with someone who knew you in high school and has also bounced around the world.

Were a couple relaxing days; even found a bar i went to once a few years ago that served a great pint of Guinness (and they still do), and a new bar that does the same.

Time to go home.

Reasons for Travelling

Travelled from Prague to Krakow by train last night; arrived at 5:30am and spent the dawn walking around the city centre. The snow i missed in Michigan greeted me in Krakow, and the parks and old churches here look quite nice in the morning light. Still, after a couple hours of walking and photographing, i was a bit cold.

In Prague i was fortunate enough to meet Pam, an old friend, who happens to be teaching English there. I stayed the first few nights in a hotel, but once i reached Pam i spent a couple nights on her couch.

Sometimes i wonder why i travel, what the point is, what there is to see, to experience.
Pam was arguing about the differences between digital and analog photography, mostly that digital is evil, an argument highlighted by the demise of her digital camera. I asked to take a look at her camera - the problem was that four of the pins in the compact flash slot were bent so as to not make contact with the card, thus disabling the camera. A couple small flathead screwdrivers or some extreme needlenose pliers would fix the problem, but unfortunately those were not available. Instead i used scissors (taken apart using a larger screwdriver), a bent paperclip (custom bent for the job), a wobbly knife, and my handy flashlight. After a little over an hour i managed to wiggle the pins into place and now her camera works again. I must admit i did not think i was going to be able to fix that, and having done so is oddly one of the top highlights of the trip, possibly even of the year.

On Sunday Pam and a number of friends went to Pilsen to have a Thanksgiving dinner with another American teacher living there. She invited me along and i accepted. The woman in Pilsen, Kristin, cooked a variety of dishes, and since Pam had told her about my eating habits, a number of the dishes were vegan.
Years ago i started having issues with Thanksgiving - i've never really had the traditionally American upbringing in this regards, but something special/different has happened for most of them. Some were quite good, like the first i spent in the States, in my brother's apartment, eating his first attempt at Spaghetti alla Carbonara (i loved it). Others were wierd, like the last i spent in Rome with my mother (where was my father again?) or the time my brother and i helped my mother move.
Lately they had just been getting real sad, but the past couple years have seen a turnaround.
2 years ago i travelled to Cambodia and spent Thanksgiving eating rice and vegetables in some village. Last year i was in Rome and ate turkey with Maudi, an old friend from high school (yes, turkey - it was that kind of situation). This year i stumbled into a vegan dinner in Pilsen, Czech Republic, including vegan stuffing and vegan apple pie, and local moonshine. This was not the kind of dinner i expected, and was a great, wonderful time.

Perhaps next year i will even be able to again spend this holiday in the States.

One of the main reasons i travel is to spend some time alone - truely alone, when even the words are unfamiliar. But everywhere i go is someone i know. Along with meeting Pam on this trip i have also met someone whose best friend runs a business (along with Mark's brother) in Ann Arbor, and another fellow from Canton, MI. Even Cambodia held people i knew.

Perhaps the world is telling me i am not alone; i wonder what friend i will meet when i go to Rwanda.

Wrapping Things Up

Almost by chance, I happened to meet Kirsten in Zurich and spent some good time with her in CH, exploring a bit of Bern and Zurich, the buildings, the birds, the drug addicts, the food, the art bears, etc, etc.

I took the nighttrain to Vienna, met a nice Norwegian family in my train compartment, and slept as best i could in the closed quarters, only getting lightly hit in the face a couple times.

Now am in Vienna exploring the internet cafes. Net access is quite expensive in Zurich - 5 francs for 30 minutes, but in Vienna i found a place that is 3€ for 1 hour, first hour free if you buy a drink. Still more expensive than Rome, but work will reimburse me, yes?

I have no map or tourbook of Vienna, but spent a couple minutes exploring some stuff online. It is doubtful that i will see any of the popular sites, but i enjoy exploring the other sides of things anyways.

And yes, if i see some little guy selling bad paintings on the street, i'll be sure to buy one.

I wonder how many times that joke has been made.

Old New Buildings

Of all the coincidental occurences, a friend i made the last time i was in Rome happens to now intern at my father's old work - the WFP, which is headquartered in Rome. I asked her if i could see her office (surely a strange request) because the offices had moved since my father worked there, and she obliged. She gave very good directions and once i arrived, showed through the new office buidling that she describes as "spiky", a very accurate description for an angular, 3-winged triangle building with a facade consisting of long poles reminiscent of cactus leaves.

Thanks, Dunja!

Changes

Looking for a birthday present for my niece, i tried to find a toy store i remembered in EUR. Unfortunately i could not find the store; it seems a McDonald's has replaced it.

When we lived there, EUR had 1 McDonald's. Now it has at least 3, each less than a 10 minutes walk from the other.

Will to Work

Every night when 2am rolls around i get a desire to head to work. It's late, i should be sleeping, i'm going to wake up in 5 hours no matter what, but i'd like to head to work right now, even if it's just so i can sleep on my office floor for a couple hours, wake up and type. To a degree it's escapist (deal with work instead of the rest of my life) but also it's invigorating to try to do good work when really tired, drunk, or otherwise less than fully abled.

To know that i can still ramble off solutions to problems even when asleep is rather refreshing. The first time i realised this i was a few beers into a conversation with Michael Anne - Nil called be up with some work problem. I rambled off "type in [long strings of commands], does it say [error codes]? Ok, do this: [longer strings of commands]. Is it working again? Good, e-mail [relevant person] and let them know what happened, thanks." Michael Anne was staring at me, amazed that i could recall such random (and most likely strange-sounding) strings at the bar, i too realised that i must know my job pretty well to have been that sure with Nil, and ever since have enjoyed such challenges. I'm sure it helps that i keep remembering the look on her face; she's a great woman and truly a best friend.

Caught Up

Finally caught up on all my notes from my trip and am able to reminisce a little, figure out what i forgot to mention, think about new trips i'd like to take.

In a couple weeks i'm headed to Peru, and sometime after that i'd like to head out to Cali, but there are larger trips out there i'd like to take.

After seeing Amsterdam, i'd like to visit other northern European countries, in particular the Scandinavian ones: Denmark, Norway, Finland, perhaps Sweden, and see how those all differ from each other.

Prague holds an interest, perhaps it should be a stepping stone for other eastern European countries.

Belgrade. Dunja the bartender was from Belgrade. She had been describing that city and its people rather nicely, so i said, "It sounds like a very nice city", to which she responded, "there are parts that are nice and there are parts that are less nice." I had never thought of that area as being nice - figured it was too war torn - and even now i would probably be too scared to travel there without Good Reason, so Serbia will have to live in the land of fantasy for a while.
One other comment Dunja made about Serbs, and this one was also a lesson on history for me, especially after my nonsensical rhetoric about the uselessness of history. Her mother lives in Athens, and she tells me that, when she visits Greece and mentions to people that she is Serbian, she is instantly welcomed into houses and treated as a family member. Apparently the Greeks have a very good memory and are quite appreciative for the supportive role the Serbs lent Greece against Nazi Germany during WWII, enough so that they still treat Serbian visitors with honour - quite a nice benefit of history. Dunja also says that the opposite isn't true, Serbs have forgotten the help they received from the Greeks. Perhaps they've had other things on their minds.

The South African gentleman i met made his country out to be a place i might want to visit as well, though interestingly his take on Pretoria made the city seem worse than Belgrade. I've been wanting to go to some place in Africa, perhaps South Africa is the right place (even though it's about a full day of travel time).

For now there are family obligations and monetary drawbacks (need to save money for a new tattoo too) to more travelling and i will be content to remain in place for a couple months once i get back from Peru.

Trash talkin'

A few stories from Maudy reinforced a criticism of Rome that i've previously expressed.

I've walked around town at around 3-4am and have seen the street sweepers cleaning up the daily mess. I've also walked around town at around 7-9am and have seen how efficient Romans are at dirtying their city: by the time 9am rolls around the streets are again a mess, littered with pizza napkins and daily newspapers and morning dog poop. They don't throw their napkins into the trash cans, they leave their newspapers on the benches so the rain and wind can spread them around the streets, and they don't care for cleaning after their dogs.

Another aspect of messiness that i alluded to before is the broken sidewalks; i can understand that coblestone roads are difficult to keep even but the sidewalks in Rome are also broken and in disrepair (in all parts of the city, from EUR to downtown to up north). In Ann Arbor we have very harsh conditions: the temperature ranges from -20 to 90 degrees farenheit and many streets are lined with trees, yet the sidewalks are in quite good condition by comparison.

The stories:

Every time he cleans up after his dog (a little dog named Rocco, i forget the exact breed), people look at him funny and say che schifo, how dirty, as if cleaning up after the dog is dirtier and nastier than leaving dog crap on the sidewalk. When he was working in a bar, this guy buys a bag of chips, finishes them, then throws the bag on the ground instead of into the trash. Maudy tells the guy, "hey put that in the trash", but the guy just looks at him and says, "what's your problem", as if Maudy has just insulted him.

There is a high wall that runs from the castel to the VC, it used to also be used as an escape route for the Pope so he could hole up in the castle during war times. A couple years ago this famous structure was open to the public, with a coffee shop and little bar at the top (by the way, a bar in Italy isn't a sit down get drunk kinda place, but implies an actual bar across which one might order a coffee or a sandwich, and perhaps a beer or shot of grappa, but not necessarily a place to get drunk), and the ability to sit down or walk around the passage way at the top. Eventually, though, this had to be closed as visitors were constantly throwing their trash off the side of the walls and into the neighbouring resident's back yards and balconies.

What's with the lack of social responsibility, both in terms of not cleaning up after themselves and in terms of not caring if their streets and sidewalks are in a good state of repair? Are they simply content with one large urban renewal plan every 500 years?

Thanksgiving in Rome

Back to the VC to have some mail sent the Holy way, as well as to do some shopping. Decided to give Maudy a call from just outside the colonnades. Beautiful columns, by the way; who can deny the all-encompassing nature of the Baroque style? I've been wondering what way is best to approach St Peter's: from the large road built by Mussolini or by passing through one side of the colonnades. Catholicism has always seemed pompous to me, so the large, formal road that runs up to the church in such a glorious way that no red carpet entrance could ever compete with it (and it's also the only sidewalk in Rome that isn't broken, an actual smooth pathway! More on this later) seems appropriate for all the other excesses that the Church takes upon. On the other hand, the Baroque style seems more emphasized when the cathedral's plaza is suddenly come upon from the side: at first you're walking through part of typical Rome - narrow streets and buildings bustling with common daily activities - then suddenly through a few rows of columns and you emerge into a peaceful plaza in a different country - the warm embrace of the church echoed by the two arms of colonnades is fully Baroque.

The last time i saw Maudy was Minneapolis 1994, while i was working for 3M during a summer internship. I believe he was looking at some school out around there, someplace to go study art at.

I called him around 12 or 1 and it turns out he currently lives a couple blocks from the VC, in between it and Castel San Angelo. He was just waking up and invited me to his family's house for Thanksgiving lunch (sure, him and his mom are Mexican, her husband Italian, but they're americanised enough to celebrate). Was a very nice treat for me to go to his house and enjoy some fine pasta with tomato sauce, a good salad, and some turkey (yeah i ate turkey, i had already lost trying to eat vegan so figured i should Fit In for one more meal) with potatoes. The meal and company was quite a delightful surprise - i think i spent last Thanksgiving eating some rice and vegetables (with egg, of course) in some country stop with a French guy in Cambodia.

After lunch, got an opportunity to talk with Maudy about Old Times and Old Friends as we went back to his rooftop apartment so i could admire the views of the famous surroundings. He told me lots of stories of lots of people from high school, most of which i cannot repeat here due to their personal nature, however, if you happen to want to know more, contact me. It's interesting how Maudy knows a take on people separate from everyone else's - during the little reunion i attended in January the folks repeated very different, tame stories about the some of the same people.

His apartment really does have a great view of the VC, including what he says is the Pope's bedroom. I didn't stay long enough to see the Pope go to sleep as i had some more shopping to do. I of course had the idea of something good to get my niece, just had to find the right one.

Was sad to go on my way after visiting an old friend and old ideas, but at least next time i'm in Rome i might have a cheaper place to stay.

Return of the prodigal son, part II

Found my way to my old high school, the Amerian Overseas School of Rome. As the bus travelled down the old familiar road my heart started beating faster and harder, a strange sign of a strange nervousness. Spoke my way through the security guard and up to my old math class room, which is now a computer lab. A student pointed me to the math classroom on the other side of the hallway, and i spoke to my old math teach, Mrs. Fiochi, who didn't remember me but did say that my eyes, no, the look in my eyes, was very familiar and unique. She said the same thing 12 years ago, and couldn't say much more this time since class was starting.

Walked up the villa (my school consists of a number of modern school-type buildings and an old villa in the middle, housing offices in the first floors and classrooms in the upper floors, as well as a large soccer field on one side (contrary to runour, it wasn't sold off)) to my Italian classroom as i knew Mrs. Levine wouldn't mind me waling in on her class. Sure enough, she was giving her advanced French students a test on the last day, last period before the break, but she welcomed me in and talked with me at length. The students were very talkative during their test, at which Mrs. Levine would look up every now and then and say, "students, be quiet, this is Francisco, an old student, and i'm trying to talk with him. One day you too will return after ten years." You had to know her and her unique pedagogical techniques.

I was surprised that she remembered where we used to sit during class, and was most delightfully surprised to hear she remembered a unique stunt (hack?) pulled at our school: someone took salt and wrote the words "FUCK ED" (Ed Tatko being the principle at the time) in large letters in the field (salt kills plants, in this case killing the grass in the shape of the letters for a number of days, weeks after the stunt was pulled, and the words were quite beautifully visible from the top of the villa). Levine remembered our class b/c of that stunt, and related the tale to her class, though in her memory the letters were the size of the soccer field (a notion i almost scoffed at since writing letters that big would have required a little more skill than i give the possible culprits credit for). I hear that stunt was one of the main causes of his nervous breakdown, and he left the school after only 1.5 years.

Levine walked me down to the offices where i met some of the new staff, including the Spanish instructor (they now offer up to AP/IB Spanish), who happened to be friends with the mother of a high school friend of mine, Maudy Tuseth, who used to live in New York but moved back to Rome just over a year ago. Through Maudy's mother i got Maudy's number, quite a treat, of which i'll talk more later.

What's going on?

It's too bad we don't know what's going on.
- American Tourist w/ southern accent

I had forgotten about the smell in the city. Lisse warned me that a friend of hers found the city very stinky, but somehow i never noticed during the years i lived here. Coming from Amsterdam here, though, was a little mistake as the difference is quite drastic - Amsterdam being a rather clean, tidy city and Rome being rather dirty. Pollution creates a foul odor that hangs about the city, and the dirt of the streets and cars (contrasted with Amsterdam's plethora of cyclists), along with the slight humidity, helps that grime stick to one's body and clothes quite unpleasantly.

It could be a clean enough city, if people made more use of the transport system and the transport system were re-redeveloped a little, and if people would stop throwing their trash on the ground and use the many trash cans around. How can people just litter their streets? Don't they care about their home at all? Even Phnom Penh with its dirt roads seemed cleaner, but that's probably due to its lack of pamphlet advertising and its massive recycling campaign (not a true campaign, but poor people come up with very creative ways to reuse anything and everything).

I wonder if the age of the city, if being surrounded by Old Stuff (and Old Falling Down Stuff at that) has numbed their minds to the seediness of their surroundings and made them complacently accept that they must live in a decrepit city. Has the memory of their past glories destroyed any desire to better themselves in the present? Not that they don't try a little, but their present glories amount to what, being on the losing side of a world war and bringing down the cost of living for the rest of the EU? Why not concentrate on bettering your immediate surroundings and stop throwing trash on the ground?

I think there's too much history tied into Rome. Everywhere you turn is more of it - the Coliseum, the Pantheon, St. Peters - and if not this history them a homage to this history, such as the square coliseum in EUR (as seen in a motion picture starring Anthony Hopkins). What is the point of all these ruins other than to serve as a reminder - yeah, you once were something... once, a couple thousand years ago - or to bring in revenue via tourism? In a sense, this history seems a scientific approach to ancestor worship, as well as a copout for working towards a socially concious, clean Rome.

Perhaps the best argument i've heard about the need for history is that those who forget it, repeat it. But those who remember it repeat it as well, so that argument seems a little foolish. Maybe this city would be better off destroying its heritage and starting a new culture, one that knows how to clean up after itself, one that respects a little bit of health in the environment.

Or maybe i'm off-base thinking that littering is a Bad Thing, or that pollution is a Bad Thing. Maybe it's just my U.S.-centric mindset trying to impose itself on a foreign country. Maybe the culture must exist as a whole, the good and the bad, and it is silly to try to separate the two. Maybe Romans should feel satisfied living their lifestyle, grimy as others might find it.

Oh, the quote at the top was from a tourist watching a soccer game in a bar.