After arriving at the hostel and sleeping with my passport, credit cards, and cash clutched to myself I awoke tired and listless. Instead of concisely and intently pursuing the city in a succinct manner I took to wandering around looking for coffee.
I was stuck with my bag and had all morning to kill.
Wandering into a cafe I asked the bartender for a cup of coffee. "Cafe," I said confidently. Luckily this was one word that translated from Spanish to Italian. Unfortunately, I didn't know where to start with "water." So I just said "water" and pointed to a plastic bottle of water behind the counter.
He said something which I guessed to be "with or without ice?" I said "without ice." Then he whipped out a bottle of vodka. I laughed and said "no! That!"
We all laughed and chatted about it in a smattering of three languages. I learned that it was "aqua." So I should have just tried the Spanish word "agua."
After this I scanned the streets for signs of the cathedral. I decided to spring for a packet of cigarettes. They were about 6 euro. They were good bargaining chips in the days to come.
I wandered the city, lost, for many hours. I had no map and no drive to find where I was going quickly. There was a beautiful art museum that featured ancient paintings and uncommon artists. In that gallery I thought of Walt Whitman's quote "This is common air that bathes the globe.:
The Duomo was beautiful. It cost 12 euro to climb to the top and enter the building. I chose to save the cash because the surrounding countryside wasn't quite as visually stunning as some places I've been.
I sat in the plaza for several hours observing people coming and going. The senegalese salesmen were hard at work peddling bracelets and birdseed to feed the army of pigeons that come to nest on tourists heads at random.
After settling there for a while I headed back to the train station where I waited for 3 hours before having a blast in the car with 3 Italian girls.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Arrival in Milan
Rome has been a trip... in both senses of the word.
I arrived at Barajas with the feelings of anticipation and apprehension which usually accompany any adventures of this importance. "This is my recluse from the stress of teenagers, constant movement, separation from my family, and tedious planning...I'm going to make it count!"
Darting to the terminal T1 I was immediately confused. Ryanair, the cheap company with which I usually fly, has a "visa-check station" next to a security entrance to the gates. Easyjet had a long checkin line and no helpful signs. I met some nice English people in line and mulled over the confusion of the airport.
At the front of the line, finally, I asked the worker if I could check in. He politely informed me in Spanish and in English that the type of ticket that I had should go directly through security. The screen showed my gate: C41. Peacefully, I wanderd around the gates and stopped to talk to a nice saleswoman who tried to give me a credit card.
Then came more confusion. The flight was at 21:15 and the gate closed at 20:45. 20:50 came and there was no change in the movement of the line. Then they said something in Spanish that I didn't hear clearly. Half the line moved quickly and the other half stood still. Then they said it in English, I still couldn't hear it, and the other hal.f started moving. So I simply followed in anticipation of a change in planes.
Not only was it a change in planes but also the farthest distance that the change could have gone. I ended up running and then asked someone in line "is this the flight to Milan?"
She answered "yes it is." That's when I met my first contact on the trip. We chatted a long time about nothing and everything in Italy. Forebodings, sob stories, and ominous warnings were the majority of the information that she shared with me.
On the plane, finally, I met a creepy little Philipino man who was very smiley. We talked for over 2 hours before the plane took off. He asked me "how old are you?" I said, a little irritated at the fact that we had been talking less than 5 minutes before he asked that, "guess!" He replied "no, seriously, tell me your age."
This past year has taught me a lot of things about meeting someone. Don't ask their name before they ask yours...because it doesn't matter. Don't ever ask age...if you're really curious about something (if they're legally an adult or over 21) tell a story or ask an oblique question. For instance with one person we were talking about gun violence and he brought up September 11th. Curious about his age I said "man...I was in 6th grade when that happened and it was terrifying!" He replied "I was in the university and they..." that gave me an idea that he was at least 6 years older than I.
Another thing I've learned is that once a conversation is broken it's hard to bring it back.
So we kept it going until the plane took off. 2 hours late.
When I arrived in Milan, a city some view as particularly dangerous, it was dark. Having based my directions on the metro route I was disheartened to learn that, being 1:30 a.m., the metro was closed. Waiting for tourists outside the station there was a group of grizzly homeless Italian beggars and a few people drinking beer while sitting in circles. One got up, approached, and asked me "where you go?" I replied pointing in a direction - "That way. No thank you." Luckily, there was a British man walking his girlfriend to the station. He let me use his phone for a map and I trekked toward my hostel: the Black and White.
By the time I got there nothing was open but I was exhausted from the stress of walking a mile with my luggage. My own shadow scared me on parts of this walk...because I had over 500 euro on me in cash.
I arrived at Barajas with the feelings of anticipation and apprehension which usually accompany any adventures of this importance. "This is my recluse from the stress of teenagers, constant movement, separation from my family, and tedious planning...I'm going to make it count!"
Darting to the terminal T1 I was immediately confused. Ryanair, the cheap company with which I usually fly, has a "visa-check station" next to a security entrance to the gates. Easyjet had a long checkin line and no helpful signs. I met some nice English people in line and mulled over the confusion of the airport.
At the front of the line, finally, I asked the worker if I could check in. He politely informed me in Spanish and in English that the type of ticket that I had should go directly through security. The screen showed my gate: C41. Peacefully, I wanderd around the gates and stopped to talk to a nice saleswoman who tried to give me a credit card.
Then came more confusion. The flight was at 21:15 and the gate closed at 20:45. 20:50 came and there was no change in the movement of the line. Then they said something in Spanish that I didn't hear clearly. Half the line moved quickly and the other half stood still. Then they said it in English, I still couldn't hear it, and the other hal.f started moving. So I simply followed in anticipation of a change in planes.
Not only was it a change in planes but also the farthest distance that the change could have gone. I ended up running and then asked someone in line "is this the flight to Milan?"
She answered "yes it is." That's when I met my first contact on the trip. We chatted a long time about nothing and everything in Italy. Forebodings, sob stories, and ominous warnings were the majority of the information that she shared with me.
On the plane, finally, I met a creepy little Philipino man who was very smiley. We talked for over 2 hours before the plane took off. He asked me "how old are you?" I said, a little irritated at the fact that we had been talking less than 5 minutes before he asked that, "guess!" He replied "no, seriously, tell me your age."
This past year has taught me a lot of things about meeting someone. Don't ask their name before they ask yours...because it doesn't matter. Don't ever ask age...if you're really curious about something (if they're legally an adult or over 21) tell a story or ask an oblique question. For instance with one person we were talking about gun violence and he brought up September 11th. Curious about his age I said "man...I was in 6th grade when that happened and it was terrifying!" He replied "I was in the university and they..." that gave me an idea that he was at least 6 years older than I.
Another thing I've learned is that once a conversation is broken it's hard to bring it back.
So we kept it going until the plane took off. 2 hours late.
When I arrived in Milan, a city some view as particularly dangerous, it was dark. Having based my directions on the metro route I was disheartened to learn that, being 1:30 a.m., the metro was closed. Waiting for tourists outside the station there was a group of grizzly homeless Italian beggars and a few people drinking beer while sitting in circles. One got up, approached, and asked me "where you go?" I replied pointing in a direction - "That way. No thank you." Luckily, there was a British man walking his girlfriend to the station. He let me use his phone for a map and I trekked toward my hostel: the Black and White.
By the time I got there nothing was open but I was exhausted from the stress of walking a mile with my luggage. My own shadow scared me on parts of this walk...because I had over 500 euro on me in cash.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Movement
I have just moved in to my new apt. It is spacious for a European place and my room is exactly the size that I need. Single bed, desk, large mirror, dresser with a lot of drawers, bookshelf, and space under the bed are all I need. There are about two square meters of empty floor. No dead room. My closet is in the hallway which is a bit strange but I don't mind.
My roomates are a French woman, Portuguese man, and a Spanish guy. The French woman is a teacher and designer, the Spaniard is an engineering student and the Portuguese is a physics PhD. I think that this is going to be a great set. They are organized and all professional.
I have a little money left after paying back rent, two months deposit, and transport. I want to put all I have left toward that student loan in the United States. Again, I wish that they wouldn't haggle specifics when deferring those. Although I initialled and signed the documents they said that I missed a line, the second time they said that my social security number was wrong, and after that they said that my technical income was too much.
The reason for the hassle is roughly apparent: banks make more off overdrafts than deferrals coupled with on-time payments in the future. That could just be my conspiracy theorist mind at work.
After talking to my roommates for a while I realize what a good position I am in to be living in Spain. The becario position we auxiliares have is enough to survive with plenty of time to experience Spain. Me, on the other hand, I would prefer more work over free time.
Which is why I'm shooting out advertisements a lot this weekend. It cost about $15 total but through that I now have 14 hours weekly extra classes.
All last night and this morning I have been studying epidemiology and anatomy. Tonight I plan on calling my parents (again) to see what has changed back home. I haven't spoken to them since Thanksgiving.
I'm off to eat something, work out, and then study more. Hopefully this week I'll have more students and a clearer picture of how I will spend my holiday.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Impact Landing
I tumbled out of the plane a little more than a week ago with adrenaline pumping and a purpose. My first stop was the bathroom in barajas. I changed from my comfortable jeans and t-shirt into a casual suit, grabbed my bags, and scampered to my school to offer lessons.
There I was greeted with the cheek kisses and smiles. It was good to be back. Everything was square for me to begin teaching in November.
The problem was: I had no place to lay my head that night. My first thought was about money. I had 200 euros in my account that time and 50 in my pocket. I couldn't afford to spend a cent more than I had to...and metro tickets were getting pricier. Out of curiosity and desperation I went back to my old apt to see if anyone was home. I waited around for a half hour using the internet next to my old place.
However, the only person who came by was a stagehand for the theatre. He got coffee with me and chuckled incessently at the fact that I was unaware of what I was doing exactly for lodging. I charged my phone in the theatre and called Loli, a kind quirky English teacher I worked with the year before.
Now here I am. I am in charge of a couple diversification classes for the learning disabled kids, science classes, and the tough groups.
Several things need worked out. I'm too far from work at the moment...a 2 hour commute switching trains 4 times is a rough start to any day... My documents are a little messed up at the moment as well. I'm legal in Spain but I just need a card. To get the card I needed a paper with a sticker. I don't think that they gave it to me before but I have no way to check. I was supposed to get more forms based off that form to come in and out of the country.
My plans for the next two months are sketchy. If my card comes in I will be out of the country without problems. If it does not come than I will stick to Schengan countries to avoid the hassle of extra papers.
I read about Bacon's critique of synthetic and analytic minds. A maniacally synthetic mind will unite elements of everything they experience and bring them together through perceived commonalities. Depending on their rationale they might be stretching reasons or simply devoting attention to ones that exist. The importance of them could be small and aggrandized by discourse.
Analytic minds are the opposite. They dissect things by seeking differences.
Being both an artist and a scientist has allowed me to fluctuate between these two mindsets with ease. However, I think that I don't control directly what mode my mind will be in. I am, however, glad that I have this quip of information to mull over on that long commute. I'm more glad that there are still gems for me in philosophy.
There I was greeted with the cheek kisses and smiles. It was good to be back. Everything was square for me to begin teaching in November.
The problem was: I had no place to lay my head that night. My first thought was about money. I had 200 euros in my account that time and 50 in my pocket. I couldn't afford to spend a cent more than I had to...and metro tickets were getting pricier. Out of curiosity and desperation I went back to my old apt to see if anyone was home. I waited around for a half hour using the internet next to my old place.
However, the only person who came by was a stagehand for the theatre. He got coffee with me and chuckled incessently at the fact that I was unaware of what I was doing exactly for lodging. I charged my phone in the theatre and called Loli, a kind quirky English teacher I worked with the year before.
Now here I am. I am in charge of a couple diversification classes for the learning disabled kids, science classes, and the tough groups.
Several things need worked out. I'm too far from work at the moment...a 2 hour commute switching trains 4 times is a rough start to any day... My documents are a little messed up at the moment as well. I'm legal in Spain but I just need a card. To get the card I needed a paper with a sticker. I don't think that they gave it to me before but I have no way to check. I was supposed to get more forms based off that form to come in and out of the country.
My plans for the next two months are sketchy. If my card comes in I will be out of the country without problems. If it does not come than I will stick to Schengan countries to avoid the hassle of extra papers.
I read about Bacon's critique of synthetic and analytic minds. A maniacally synthetic mind will unite elements of everything they experience and bring them together through perceived commonalities. Depending on their rationale they might be stretching reasons or simply devoting attention to ones that exist. The importance of them could be small and aggrandized by discourse.
Analytic minds are the opposite. They dissect things by seeking differences.
Being both an artist and a scientist has allowed me to fluctuate between these two mindsets with ease. However, I think that I don't control directly what mode my mind will be in. I am, however, glad that I have this quip of information to mull over on that long commute. I'm more glad that there are still gems for me in philosophy.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Being Professional
I'm staring down 16 days left in the USA and reflecting on the medical school application process. I've got five universal concerns in my life right now.
The first and most important is money. Medical school applications start at about $135 to begin, $35 per primary application, and roughly $50 to $150 per secondary. In addition to this it costs $200 in gas, time off work, and interview clothes for every time I set out to meet someone to talk about the process. To live and work here costs $100 per week for gas, groceries, and incidentals around home. I pay $330 per month to student debt. I make $275 per week.
This all adds up to me being broke but I make the best of it. People come over and we hang out at my place. I go to the dollar movie. Restaurants and bars are out of the question. Travel hasn't happened unless it is for work, a visit to some medical school, or to meet with a doctor.
I have an impending trip out of the country. This always worries me a bit. Travel is a rush. Airports are hectic. This is the least of my worries but it's still an international flight. There were some documents which I should have arranged but I haven't heard from the government about my immigration papers. Last time they didn't even check.
What makes me nervous about this time is that there's no room for mistakes. A hundred dollar expense or unexpected fee was fine before. This time I have 250 euro and no money in my American accounts. The difference is that I'm wiser. No single ride metro tickets, no pre-pay phones, no cab rides, no hostel stays, and definitely no poorly spent food budget. I know how to avoid swindlers and my Spanish is adequate. Surviving a month on 100 euro after my transportation and rent is paid is going to be a challenge...especially because my flat is going to be two transfers and an hour and a half away from work.
I don't know my schedule with my secondary education classes. The amount of time has fluctuated between 3 hours and 10. This time they know I'm good and want to ramp that up. At 21-25 euro per hour those are what I need. I know my regular job will still be 4 days a week for a total of 16 hours. The end of October is when I get my 1000 euro stipend. That's such a long time to survive on next-to-nothing! I can do this though.
My third big worry is interviews. Medical schools consider your versatility and experience. I'm sure to get in somewhere because of what I'm doing but they all require in-person interviews. That means I have to save at least 850 to get a round-trip ticket to the USA for an interview. That's a nightmare but it's better than the alternative: waiting by the phone in Massillon. Not knowing keeps me edgy.
The fourth thing is my family and friends. Leaving for so long made me realize what I love about them and has caused me to want to stay here a little bit. I have had such a good time canoeing, camping, grilling out on Sundays, playing volleyball, and just hanging out. It doesn't seem like I've had enough time with them.
My work here is mediocre. It's a $9/hr job where I put things in grocery baskets and then put them in boxes. PBS animal health. The temps are enjoyable to hang out with and the regulars have lost their zest for life. Monotony is something that I can handle. However, I hate that I feel like my life is making someone else a lot of money and distributing antibiotics and hormones to farm animals. The look into this world has been fun though. Yesterday marked my 2 weeks notice.
Finally, I've started some relationships here that I would like to see out. Relationships will always take a backseat to my goals though. It's just part of being professional.
The first and most important is money. Medical school applications start at about $135 to begin, $35 per primary application, and roughly $50 to $150 per secondary. In addition to this it costs $200 in gas, time off work, and interview clothes for every time I set out to meet someone to talk about the process. To live and work here costs $100 per week for gas, groceries, and incidentals around home. I pay $330 per month to student debt. I make $275 per week.
This all adds up to me being broke but I make the best of it. People come over and we hang out at my place. I go to the dollar movie. Restaurants and bars are out of the question. Travel hasn't happened unless it is for work, a visit to some medical school, or to meet with a doctor.
I have an impending trip out of the country. This always worries me a bit. Travel is a rush. Airports are hectic. This is the least of my worries but it's still an international flight. There were some documents which I should have arranged but I haven't heard from the government about my immigration papers. Last time they didn't even check.
What makes me nervous about this time is that there's no room for mistakes. A hundred dollar expense or unexpected fee was fine before. This time I have 250 euro and no money in my American accounts. The difference is that I'm wiser. No single ride metro tickets, no pre-pay phones, no cab rides, no hostel stays, and definitely no poorly spent food budget. I know how to avoid swindlers and my Spanish is adequate. Surviving a month on 100 euro after my transportation and rent is paid is going to be a challenge...especially because my flat is going to be two transfers and an hour and a half away from work.
I don't know my schedule with my secondary education classes. The amount of time has fluctuated between 3 hours and 10. This time they know I'm good and want to ramp that up. At 21-25 euro per hour those are what I need. I know my regular job will still be 4 days a week for a total of 16 hours. The end of October is when I get my 1000 euro stipend. That's such a long time to survive on next-to-nothing! I can do this though.
My third big worry is interviews. Medical schools consider your versatility and experience. I'm sure to get in somewhere because of what I'm doing but they all require in-person interviews. That means I have to save at least 850 to get a round-trip ticket to the USA for an interview. That's a nightmare but it's better than the alternative: waiting by the phone in Massillon. Not knowing keeps me edgy.
The fourth thing is my family and friends. Leaving for so long made me realize what I love about them and has caused me to want to stay here a little bit. I have had such a good time canoeing, camping, grilling out on Sundays, playing volleyball, and just hanging out. It doesn't seem like I've had enough time with them.
My work here is mediocre. It's a $9/hr job where I put things in grocery baskets and then put them in boxes. PBS animal health. The temps are enjoyable to hang out with and the regulars have lost their zest for life. Monotony is something that I can handle. However, I hate that I feel like my life is making someone else a lot of money and distributing antibiotics and hormones to farm animals. The look into this world has been fun though. Yesterday marked my 2 weeks notice.
Finally, I've started some relationships here that I would like to see out. Relationships will always take a backseat to my goals though. It's just part of being professional.
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