I have to try and write quickly because Paolo is sitting next to me, bored out of his head...but it is hard since the keyboard I am using is French and the letters are all in different places. We are in the beautiful town of Asilah, and have been here for the past 5 days. We flew into Casablanca, and spent 2 nights there. I dont really know what to say about Casablanca. It really isn't much of a tourist place, it is more of a real Moroccan city. It is quite dirty, but nothing like Delhi. The first night we walked through the market, Paolo bought a pair of sandals, we went to dinner, and Paolo left his shoes at the restaraunt...he did not realize this until we walked all the way back to our hotel--Hotel Central (which was so cute...very traditional Moroccan decor, and a terrace on the roof with a nice view)...so we decided to wait until the next day to go back to see if they were still there. In my mind I was quite certain they would be gone, but when we went back the next morning, the restaurant owner happily retrieved the shoes from behind the counter--and this confirmed what I had been suspecting since I had arrived...Moroccans are really lovely people. They have been so hospitable, both in Casablanca and here in Asilah. They are friendly, funny, and very helpful--especially for the two of us. You see, in Morocco they speak Aribic and French. This is a bit difficult for the English and Italian speaking couple...however, its amazing how we can always communicate what we want or need, and can understand their responses. This was one of my biggest fears before leaving on this trip, but I have come to realize that there are so many more ways of communicating than speaking alone.
In Asilah they also speak Spanish because it's so close to the border of Spain, so with my limited Spanish, Paolo's limited French, his Italian and my English we usually have most conversations in 4 languages, where we can greet people in Spanish or French, talk about the weather, or ask for the bill, but everything else is mostly in English or bits of Italiano. It is actually kinda fun.
Asilah is wonderful. It is quaint, authentic, and calm (compared to Casablanca). It is on the Atlantic Ocean, and has a huge beach. Right now there is an international arts festival going on, so there are a lot of tourists in town (mostly Moroccan, Spanish or French). We spend most days relaxing--eatich a late breakfast, having some traditional Moroccan mint tea (which is fabulous), going to the beach, reading, playing paddle ball, talking, resting, watching amazing sunsets, and looking at the new art that is being painted on the white walls of the city buildings each day. In Morocco, there is a section of each city called the Medina, which is usually the older part of town with a giant wall around it. Inside the Medina you will find all of the craft work, which is unbelievable--I could fill 2 suitcases full of art, shoes (they make leather sandals by hand along the streets of the Medina) hand painted dishes, and the coolest lamps in the world. I am trying to figure out how to get one home...I think maybe I will send it home with Paolo and have him deliver it to me in the US... ;)
I did not even think about Morocco being a muslim country and how different going to the beach would be. Many women are still completely covered, and even swim in all of their clothes. I have yet to figure out how it is decided how covered a muslim woman is. There are some that you only see their eyes, others who you see their entire faces, others who are wearing jeans but have their hair covered...and young girls and teenagers dress very western. Some even more provocatively than girls in the US. It is really interesting to see a family, the dad and children in clothes like ours, and the mother in traditinal Islamic clothing. It is like the family is living in 2 different centuries.
But, like every other country I have been to, you just have to watch the interaction amongst families or friends to see that we really are all the same. And here in Asilah, it is even easier to see with so many children around. Children do not see differences...its like they look straight into your heart, or your character, to decide if you are someone they like. It has nothing to do with religion, dress, etc. And by watching families with kids it is really easy to see that they do exactly what we do...and kids will be kids everywhere you go.
Since we have been here, I got a henna tattoo on my hand and talked Paolo into getting one on his arm (which he was not thrilled about). We also watched a drum troup from Ghana perform the other night. Wow, wow, wow. It was six guys, probably in thier early 20s, and they we so much fun to watch, it made me want to go to Ghana even more.
...But, I don't know if that is going to happen anymore. I have not heard from the volunteer organization for over 2 weeks despite numerous attempts to contact them. They have not sent me any info about where I will be staying, working, etc. If I do not hear from them by the time I get to Barcelona I will likemy not be able to go. I have to get a visa for Ghana, which I can do from Spain, but it will have to be expidited...and will cost a couple hundred dollars. I also have to book a ticket from Barcelona to Casablanca (which is where I will be flying to Accra from), but I hesitqte to do any of this if the volunteer organization does not have space for me or cannot organize things in time. So I guess I will know in the next 2 or 3 days. My other option is to go back to Southern Italy with Paolo, and meet Tiffany there. Not a bad second choice...but going to Ghana is really important to me, so I hope everything can work out.
And...now...the dirt.
Despite the fact that poor Paolo has been visited by our friend Montazuma (I think I have enough bacteria in my stomach from India and Thailand that foreign food/water does not affect me as much), we have been having such a great time together. It is so strange how easy and natural it is...and for me, it is scary as hell. It has stirred up a lot of unexpected emotions, and has actually caused me to think about Leslie more than I have in a long time. It is clear that the feelings I am having tell me that that chapter in my life is officially ending, and a new one is beginning. So, it is somewhat bittersweet...I am saying goodbye at the same time as I discover this amazing man that is here with me. Lucky for me, Paolo is so understanding, and I can tell him exactly what I am going through. He understands that a 6 year relationship is not going to be forgotten overnight, and that there will be residule emotions that arise.
The feelings that I feel now, I have only ever felt once before, but this time I know (hopefully) how to do things differently. Paolo and I do not know what the future holds, and we know that no matter what it is it won't be easy. So we can only go step by step (which he tells me on a daily basis) and see where it takes us. All I know is, I feel the happiest and most peaceful that I have in a long time. We laugh a lot, we can have quiet moments, we talk a lot--we make a good team. We will see where this leads, but I think I should probably start to learn to speak Italian...
Sorry....Paolo writing, ok now i 'm tired to wait here ........( I'm waiting for, maybe, 2 hours) i' m really apologise for you ( i know that you wanna know bunches and bunches things about us) but we'll see next days........
ciao ciao
Paolo took over the computer...and Lisa, he learned "bunches" from you thank you very much...
So I guess this is my cue to end the blog. See ya en Espana...
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Never a dull moment...
Last time I wrote I was in Viareggio finishing my finals...my last day there, Tiff and I went to the beach, got massages (on the beach for only 15 euro), and had a nice dinner. The entire day, I had a strange pain in my back, which I attributed to my backpack--a pinched nerve or something. The next evening we headed to Florence, to meet up with Paolo the following day. We checked into our hotel in Florence, went to dinner and crashed early. My back was still hurting, but I had been carrying my heavy pack, so I assumed thats what it was...
The next morning I woke up, still in pain. I tried to tell myself it was all in my head, but it was getting worse by the minute, and it had moved from my right lower back to my right lower abdomen. Finally it got so bad that I told Tiff I needed to go to a doctor. We looked up english speaking doctors on the internet...and both that we found were on holiday--till September! By this time it was so bad, and it was a Saturday, that we decided to go to the nearest hospital. On the way there Tiffany called Paolo to tell him we would not be able to meet him at the train station, instead, we would meet him at the hospital. He knew immediately that it was bad when I did not get on the phone (I hurt too bad to talk). We got to the hospital and did our best to explain the problem to a nurse (thank God Tiffany speaks Italian). They checked me in, and put me in a waiting room with an old woman who was sobbing. Apparently she fell and hurt her arm. And, apparently she is a regular at the hospital...the nurses all knew her by name, and everyone kinda gently ignored her. I think more than medical attention, she just needed some attention in general...so I held her hand for a minute, and Tiffany spoke to her about the US.
After about an hour of waiting I finally saw a doctor. I (through Tiff) explained my symptoms, and the doc did some karate chops to my back and stomach. She then told Tiff to leave, that I would be getting an ultrasound and some x-rays. In the meantime they stuck an IV in my arm and started pumping some really good pain medicine into me, that made me nice and loopy--in moments I became fluent in Italian...even if I was the only one who could understand.
The hospital was not as nice as hospitals in the US, but Italy is known for its great healthcare, and the doctor seemed to know what she was doing. The weird part was waiting to be taken to get my tests done. I was put in a room with about 5 other people with various ailments, and there were no curtains between us, like in an American emergency room. So I could see the old man filling his bedpan, the woman talking to God as though he was right there in front of her, and another man, who was in so much pain that he paced back ands forth and groaned nonstop. Seeing sick people does two things to me...makes me more scared and makes me feel more sick. So I tried to not let my mind run away with itself as I waited for the nurse to call me (the pain medicine helped keep me calm).
I finally went for the ultrasound and x-ray. The woman who preformed the ultrasound saw some interesting things in my kidney, which she told me the doctor would explain. So after 2 hours of testing, the doctor, Tiffany and PAOLO come back to explain to me what was wrong. You can imagine my mortification, Paolo seeing me for the first time in weeks, in a wheelchair with an IV in my arm, practically drooling (not really), but definitely a little out of it. He translated that I had passed a kidney stone (not sure when, either earlier that day, or the day before), and my kidney, bladder and everything in that general vicinity was really inflammed; I was shocked, because I had not felt the stone when it came out, and I have always heard that they are excruciating when they pass. But the doc said it was likely a couple of really tiny ones that wreaked havoc as they made their way through me. She gave me some more really strong pain medicine, an anti-inflammatory and an antibiotic. She also said that when I was sick in Lecce (throwing up) was likely when it started.
The next two days I didnt do much except sleep and drink a ton of water...and Paolo, the angel that he is, did not leave my side. He kicked into doctor mode, and made sure I took my medicine on time, drank lots of water, rested, etc. He made me lunch, rubbed my back...was an absolute saint. We debated changing the Morocco plans, but I did not want to change my trip again, and I felt better each day, so despite not seeing much of Florence except the hospital and Paolos friends house, I was ready for Morocco 2 days later.
We are now in Asilah, and the town is amazing. It deserves a blog all of its own, so I will try to write again tomorrow--about Casablanca, Asilah, traveling with Paolo, the emotional rollercoaster of starting to fall in love again, and the closing of one chapter in my life and the beginning of a new one...its terrifying, wonderful, sad, exciting...all at the same time. But Paolo is so understanding, he allows me to feel all that I am feeling without being nervous, overbearing or jealous.
Is this really happening?
Oh! And I will also write about the muslim beaches. It is fascinating to see women swim in the ocean completely covered, even their faces...
The next morning I woke up, still in pain. I tried to tell myself it was all in my head, but it was getting worse by the minute, and it had moved from my right lower back to my right lower abdomen. Finally it got so bad that I told Tiff I needed to go to a doctor. We looked up english speaking doctors on the internet...and both that we found were on holiday--till September! By this time it was so bad, and it was a Saturday, that we decided to go to the nearest hospital. On the way there Tiffany called Paolo to tell him we would not be able to meet him at the train station, instead, we would meet him at the hospital. He knew immediately that it was bad when I did not get on the phone (I hurt too bad to talk). We got to the hospital and did our best to explain the problem to a nurse (thank God Tiffany speaks Italian). They checked me in, and put me in a waiting room with an old woman who was sobbing. Apparently she fell and hurt her arm. And, apparently she is a regular at the hospital...the nurses all knew her by name, and everyone kinda gently ignored her. I think more than medical attention, she just needed some attention in general...so I held her hand for a minute, and Tiffany spoke to her about the US.
After about an hour of waiting I finally saw a doctor. I (through Tiff) explained my symptoms, and the doc did some karate chops to my back and stomach. She then told Tiff to leave, that I would be getting an ultrasound and some x-rays. In the meantime they stuck an IV in my arm and started pumping some really good pain medicine into me, that made me nice and loopy--in moments I became fluent in Italian...even if I was the only one who could understand.
The hospital was not as nice as hospitals in the US, but Italy is known for its great healthcare, and the doctor seemed to know what she was doing. The weird part was waiting to be taken to get my tests done. I was put in a room with about 5 other people with various ailments, and there were no curtains between us, like in an American emergency room. So I could see the old man filling his bedpan, the woman talking to God as though he was right there in front of her, and another man, who was in so much pain that he paced back ands forth and groaned nonstop. Seeing sick people does two things to me...makes me more scared and makes me feel more sick. So I tried to not let my mind run away with itself as I waited for the nurse to call me (the pain medicine helped keep me calm).
I finally went for the ultrasound and x-ray. The woman who preformed the ultrasound saw some interesting things in my kidney, which she told me the doctor would explain. So after 2 hours of testing, the doctor, Tiffany and PAOLO come back to explain to me what was wrong. You can imagine my mortification, Paolo seeing me for the first time in weeks, in a wheelchair with an IV in my arm, practically drooling (not really), but definitely a little out of it. He translated that I had passed a kidney stone (not sure when, either earlier that day, or the day before), and my kidney, bladder and everything in that general vicinity was really inflammed; I was shocked, because I had not felt the stone when it came out, and I have always heard that they are excruciating when they pass. But the doc said it was likely a couple of really tiny ones that wreaked havoc as they made their way through me. She gave me some more really strong pain medicine, an anti-inflammatory and an antibiotic. She also said that when I was sick in Lecce (throwing up) was likely when it started.
The next two days I didnt do much except sleep and drink a ton of water...and Paolo, the angel that he is, did not leave my side. He kicked into doctor mode, and made sure I took my medicine on time, drank lots of water, rested, etc. He made me lunch, rubbed my back...was an absolute saint. We debated changing the Morocco plans, but I did not want to change my trip again, and I felt better each day, so despite not seeing much of Florence except the hospital and Paolos friends house, I was ready for Morocco 2 days later.
We are now in Asilah, and the town is amazing. It deserves a blog all of its own, so I will try to write again tomorrow--about Casablanca, Asilah, traveling with Paolo, the emotional rollercoaster of starting to fall in love again, and the closing of one chapter in my life and the beginning of a new one...its terrifying, wonderful, sad, exciting...all at the same time. But Paolo is so understanding, he allows me to feel all that I am feeling without being nervous, overbearing or jealous.
Is this really happening?
Oh! And I will also write about the muslim beaches. It is fascinating to see women swim in the ocean completely covered, even their faces...
Friday, July 27, 2007
To the ladies at CSB...
I just mailed my final-final exam to my professor (he had to have a hard copy mailed to his house, it cost me $50...ahhh) and I shipped my books home (about $100)...but, I am over 20lbs lighter, and mentally a huge weight has been lifted...now I can relax for the next couple weeks, enjoy my time with Paolo, and prepare myself for Ghana...(working on figuring out how to get a visa when I am in Spain)
We are headed to Florence in an hour or so. Italy has been amazing, I love the pace of life here. Tiff and I have had a good time together, as usual. I didn't take many pictures, but the few I did take I will try to post soon...and add captions to the ones I've put up most recently.
I wanted to say hi to all of my friends at Commercial Savings Bank, in Westerville. I've been thinking about you...Ladies (and Bob), I can't wait to fill you in on the REAL details... ;)
Baci mille.
Until Morocco...
We are headed to Florence in an hour or so. Italy has been amazing, I love the pace of life here. Tiff and I have had a good time together, as usual. I didn't take many pictures, but the few I did take I will try to post soon...and add captions to the ones I've put up most recently.
I wanted to say hi to all of my friends at Commercial Savings Bank, in Westerville. I've been thinking about you...Ladies (and Bob), I can't wait to fill you in on the REAL details... ;)
Baci mille.
Until Morocco...
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Study break...
So sorry for the blogging deficiency, I am working like a crazy lady on these finals. I might be able to pull off an "A" in my theories class, so I am really, really trying. In Abnormal Psych, I think I'll probably get a "B"...ahhh well, I guess this experience is worth the depleating GPA. The good news is, I will be ALL DONE today! I finished a 15-pager yesterday, and the one I am writing today only has to be 6-10 pages. I've spent my entire time in Viareggio in the internet cafe. It's good that I am here...less distractions (specifically, the hot, Italian distraction that starts with a "P") It's tough though, because Viareggio is a beautiful town--think, an Italian version of Hilton Head; expansive beaches, lots and lots of shopping, restaraunts, gelato (!!), people, dogs--you get the picture. And it is becoming more crowded by the day, as it is a popular vacation destination for Italians and many of them have much of August off for a holiday.
So, my plans have changed slightly again. Surprised? The itinerary is basically the same but with a slight modification. The new plan...Tiff and I are meeting Paolo in Florence on the 28th (we are going on the 27th) and will spend 3 nights there, so Tiff gets to meet and hang out with him for a bit. I have to get a second opinion of this guy...maybe she can pull me back to the ground from the cloud I've been floating on. (But I have a feeling she'll be smitten too). He's really good--he called HER the other day just to say hello, he said "I've been talking to Maggie online all day, and felt bad that I haven't said ciao to you today"...Talk about earning some major brownie points. See? He's knows what to do, he's Italian. Watch out, mom...
Anyway, back to the schedule. Paolo and I fly to Casablanca from Rome on the 31st. We spend 2 nights in Casablanca, then go to a small coastal town in northern Morocco called Asilah...its going to be hosting a big international arts festival while we are there...should be cool. We will be there for 5 nights, and will probably spend a night in Tangier before we take the ferry over to Spain. We are planning on a few days in Valencia, then heading to Barcelona. We will stay with a friend of his in Barcelona.
On August 16th, I fly to Accra, Ghana. By myself.
No worries, though- I am soooo excited....I have found a volunteer program based out of the UK where I will be working at a refugee camp in Ghana counseling children with HIV/AIDS. They will pick me up at the airport, provide me with housing and all of my meals, give me an introduciton to Ghana, and take me back to the airport on Sept 4th. Here is the link to their site:
http://www.ikando.org/
It is a very reputable organization, I will be with other volunteers from all over the world, and hopefully it will be good experience for the new career I am pursuing. I have been talking about doing something like this in Africa for a while now, so the fact that I've found this organization and I can set up all of the details in such short notice tells me that this was meant to happen. I'm not sure what I want to do with my degree when I graduate, but working for an organization like this is definitely on the list, so this will give me a real taste of what it is like.
Tiffany is no longer keen on going to Africa, but I am determined...and I've learned something about myself on this trip...when I set my mind on something (like having a "travel buddy" in Rome) I will do everything in my power to make it happen :)
I also booked my ticket from New Jersey to Columbus on September 9th. I can't believe it. I can't believe the end is in sight. I can't think about it yet. What am I gonna do when I return to reality?!?! (Literally--I have NO IDEA what my next steps will be).
That will be a blog all of it's own. Written from Columbus after I have had time to process the last 4 months...all I know thus far, is that I would not trade a second of this experience for anything. And I still have 6 weeks left, so aside from booking the ticket and this small paragraph, it is getting no more thought. Things will work out as they should. They always do...
So, my plans have changed slightly again. Surprised? The itinerary is basically the same but with a slight modification. The new plan...Tiff and I are meeting Paolo in Florence on the 28th (we are going on the 27th) and will spend 3 nights there, so Tiff gets to meet and hang out with him for a bit. I have to get a second opinion of this guy...maybe she can pull me back to the ground from the cloud I've been floating on. (But I have a feeling she'll be smitten too). He's really good--he called HER the other day just to say hello, he said "I've been talking to Maggie online all day, and felt bad that I haven't said ciao to you today"...Talk about earning some major brownie points. See? He's knows what to do, he's Italian. Watch out, mom...
Anyway, back to the schedule. Paolo and I fly to Casablanca from Rome on the 31st. We spend 2 nights in Casablanca, then go to a small coastal town in northern Morocco called Asilah...its going to be hosting a big international arts festival while we are there...should be cool. We will be there for 5 nights, and will probably spend a night in Tangier before we take the ferry over to Spain. We are planning on a few days in Valencia, then heading to Barcelona. We will stay with a friend of his in Barcelona.
On August 16th, I fly to Accra, Ghana. By myself.
No worries, though- I am soooo excited....I have found a volunteer program based out of the UK where I will be working at a refugee camp in Ghana counseling children with HIV/AIDS. They will pick me up at the airport, provide me with housing and all of my meals, give me an introduciton to Ghana, and take me back to the airport on Sept 4th. Here is the link to their site:
http://www.ikando.org/
It is a very reputable organization, I will be with other volunteers from all over the world, and hopefully it will be good experience for the new career I am pursuing. I have been talking about doing something like this in Africa for a while now, so the fact that I've found this organization and I can set up all of the details in such short notice tells me that this was meant to happen. I'm not sure what I want to do with my degree when I graduate, but working for an organization like this is definitely on the list, so this will give me a real taste of what it is like.
Tiffany is no longer keen on going to Africa, but I am determined...and I've learned something about myself on this trip...when I set my mind on something (like having a "travel buddy" in Rome) I will do everything in my power to make it happen :)
I also booked my ticket from New Jersey to Columbus on September 9th. I can't believe it. I can't believe the end is in sight. I can't think about it yet. What am I gonna do when I return to reality?!?! (Literally--I have NO IDEA what my next steps will be).
That will be a blog all of it's own. Written from Columbus after I have had time to process the last 4 months...all I know thus far, is that I would not trade a second of this experience for anything. And I still have 6 weeks left, so aside from booking the ticket and this small paragraph, it is getting no more thought. Things will work out as they should. They always do...
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Mamma Mia!
One thing I wrestle with when writing this blog is how much personal stuff I feel comfortable disclosing. So far, I've pretty much laid it all out there. But with Paolo, for some reason it is different. Almost like if I talk about it too much I will break the spell. But, I've gotten some emails lately asking about my slacking on blogging, so I will do my best to report about my time in Lecce.
I think I left off after Paolo's birthday party. I began to feel better the following day, and it was a good thing because his great-aunt came over to the villa for a proper Italian lunch. The lunch began with pasta (a type that is specific to the region-Salento), which was fabulous. Then came the meat... they kept telling me was horse, but I still think it was beef and we were mixing up the translation (at least that is what I keep telling myself...because it tasted an awful lot like potroast, and I don't like thinking that I could have actually injested horse meat). Next was the fish that his brother had caught the day before. Then the fruit. Then the cake. Then the coffee and grappa. I thought he was going to need a wheelbarrow to roll me out of the dining room when we were finished. How are they all not morbidly obese? Lunch took close to 3 hours...which is necessary for that amount of food to digest. If someone had to return to work immediately after a lunch like that, productivity would be at an all time low. His aunt was adorable. She spoke as much English as I do Italiano (NONE) but I think she thought if she spoke louder and louder I would suddenly begin to understand. This unfortunately was not the case.
Most days, Paolo would go into work from 8 until about 1, and I would study, sleep (I was still feeling pretty crappy) and then he'd spend the rest of the day with me. Often we would go to the sea, where the biologist in him would come out. Instead of beaches, usually we would go to rocky (as in boulders) areas with crystal clear, very deep water. We'd be swimming and he would dive down, pick up some kind of sea creature and give me a lesson. At night we'd usually go to explore the nearby towns and cities and he would walk me around the squares, showing me beautiful old churches, castles, shops, restraunts, etc.
We had such a good time together. He really is a neat man. He is the type of guy that makes everyone smile. He talks to everyone...and althought I do not know what is being said, they always wind up laughing. I love that. He is interested in my studies and we have great conversations about the chapters I am reading. He is very in tune with how I am feeling (rare for a man) so if he could tell I was exhausted from being sick, or overwhelmed by being surrounded by people I cannot communicate with, he would change the situation to ensure I was comfortable. The language barrier was sometimes hard, because when we were both tired, it was hard to constantly focus on speaking. You do not realize how draining it can be to have to think about each word that comes out of your mouth. And I'm sure it was twice as exhausting for him becuas ea lot of the times he doesn't know the words he is looking for.
Once in a while I would get frustrated because I cannot communicate with anyone. For instance, I bought his mother a small gift to thank them for having me at their villa. I felt so silly when I gave it to her, because all I could do was hand it to her, smile, and say "grazie" while Paolo told her how appreciative I was. I wanted to be able to talk and joke with his friends without him having to stop the conversation to explain everything to me. But, he would always comment on how he appreciated how I handled the situation, so again, he recognized that it was difficult, and that alone meant the world to me.
I think sometimes in relationships we tend to over-talk (at least I do) and with this situation that is definitely not the case. It's really amazing what other type of connection you build when you do not solely rely on verbal communication but also body language and intuition. There are times when I feel like we were reading each others minds...
Watching him interact with his family, his little cousins, his friends, even waiters or the coffee shop workers made me like him even more. He is genuine, caring, funny, smart...I could keep going. But, like I mentioned earlier, some things I would rather keep to myself...and I don't want to jinx it.
As for the future...who knows. All we can do is take it step by step. Which is a big breakthrough for me. I used to NEED to know that everything was going to work out and be ok. Now, I know that no matter what I will be ok...and that gives me the ability to explore this situation wholeheartedly without fear taking over. He and I are going to Morocco by ourselves, and then to Spain for a week before I meet Tiffany in Ghana. I am really looking forward to traveling with him, because you learn a lot about a person when they are taken out of their comfort zone. It should be good...
But, before that I have 2 finals to finish by July 27th...ugh. So I apologize if I am not as good at blogging. I am spending so much time in front of the computer that its hard to motivate myself to stay any longer than absolutely necessary. I am now in Viareggio, a beautiful coastal town almost directly east of Florence. I'm here with Tiffany, and it's so great to see her again. I think I needed a break from the intensity of being with Paolo so much, and also to be able to speak English at a normal pace, using my full vocabulary. :)
Oh, and speaking of vocabularly, and Paolo thinks my thesis should be on why people retain "bad words" in other languages quicker than any other words. It is so true. I can barely remember how to say hello, but I can swear with the best of them. Why is that? Psychology friends-- thoughts?
I think I left off after Paolo's birthday party. I began to feel better the following day, and it was a good thing because his great-aunt came over to the villa for a proper Italian lunch. The lunch began with pasta (a type that is specific to the region-Salento), which was fabulous. Then came the meat... they kept telling me was horse, but I still think it was beef and we were mixing up the translation (at least that is what I keep telling myself...because it tasted an awful lot like potroast, and I don't like thinking that I could have actually injested horse meat). Next was the fish that his brother had caught the day before. Then the fruit. Then the cake. Then the coffee and grappa. I thought he was going to need a wheelbarrow to roll me out of the dining room when we were finished. How are they all not morbidly obese? Lunch took close to 3 hours...which is necessary for that amount of food to digest. If someone had to return to work immediately after a lunch like that, productivity would be at an all time low. His aunt was adorable. She spoke as much English as I do Italiano (NONE) but I think she thought if she spoke louder and louder I would suddenly begin to understand. This unfortunately was not the case.
Most days, Paolo would go into work from 8 until about 1, and I would study, sleep (I was still feeling pretty crappy) and then he'd spend the rest of the day with me. Often we would go to the sea, where the biologist in him would come out. Instead of beaches, usually we would go to rocky (as in boulders) areas with crystal clear, very deep water. We'd be swimming and he would dive down, pick up some kind of sea creature and give me a lesson. At night we'd usually go to explore the nearby towns and cities and he would walk me around the squares, showing me beautiful old churches, castles, shops, restraunts, etc.
We had such a good time together. He really is a neat man. He is the type of guy that makes everyone smile. He talks to everyone...and althought I do not know what is being said, they always wind up laughing. I love that. He is interested in my studies and we have great conversations about the chapters I am reading. He is very in tune with how I am feeling (rare for a man) so if he could tell I was exhausted from being sick, or overwhelmed by being surrounded by people I cannot communicate with, he would change the situation to ensure I was comfortable. The language barrier was sometimes hard, because when we were both tired, it was hard to constantly focus on speaking. You do not realize how draining it can be to have to think about each word that comes out of your mouth. And I'm sure it was twice as exhausting for him becuas ea lot of the times he doesn't know the words he is looking for.
Once in a while I would get frustrated because I cannot communicate with anyone. For instance, I bought his mother a small gift to thank them for having me at their villa. I felt so silly when I gave it to her, because all I could do was hand it to her, smile, and say "grazie" while Paolo told her how appreciative I was. I wanted to be able to talk and joke with his friends without him having to stop the conversation to explain everything to me. But, he would always comment on how he appreciated how I handled the situation, so again, he recognized that it was difficult, and that alone meant the world to me.
I think sometimes in relationships we tend to over-talk (at least I do) and with this situation that is definitely not the case. It's really amazing what other type of connection you build when you do not solely rely on verbal communication but also body language and intuition. There are times when I feel like we were reading each others minds...
Watching him interact with his family, his little cousins, his friends, even waiters or the coffee shop workers made me like him even more. He is genuine, caring, funny, smart...I could keep going. But, like I mentioned earlier, some things I would rather keep to myself...and I don't want to jinx it.
As for the future...who knows. All we can do is take it step by step. Which is a big breakthrough for me. I used to NEED to know that everything was going to work out and be ok. Now, I know that no matter what I will be ok...and that gives me the ability to explore this situation wholeheartedly without fear taking over. He and I are going to Morocco by ourselves, and then to Spain for a week before I meet Tiffany in Ghana. I am really looking forward to traveling with him, because you learn a lot about a person when they are taken out of their comfort zone. It should be good...
But, before that I have 2 finals to finish by July 27th...ugh. So I apologize if I am not as good at blogging. I am spending so much time in front of the computer that its hard to motivate myself to stay any longer than absolutely necessary. I am now in Viareggio, a beautiful coastal town almost directly east of Florence. I'm here with Tiffany, and it's so great to see her again. I think I needed a break from the intensity of being with Paolo so much, and also to be able to speak English at a normal pace, using my full vocabulary. :)
Oh, and speaking of vocabularly, and Paolo thinks my thesis should be on why people retain "bad words" in other languages quicker than any other words. It is so true. I can barely remember how to say hello, but I can swear with the best of them. Why is that? Psychology friends-- thoughts?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
7 is NOT my lucky number...
I wrote the last blog from the airport in London, on 7/7/07, awaiting my flight to come to southern Italy to visit Paolo. I had gotten up at 3am for a 6:40 flight, had tons of time at the airport and my next flight was at 17:15. Ok...since we do not use the 24 hour clock in the states it confuses me sometimes, so the entire time I was thinking that my flight was at 7:15pm.
Wrong. My flight was a 5:15pm. Yep...you guessed it. I was sitting in the damn airport and missed my flight. I was actually talking to Paolo on instant messenger, and he said "What time is your flight" I said don't worry it's not until 17:15...and thats when it dawned on me. I sprinted to the departures board and saw that it was 17:18. My flight had left 3 minutes before. I was in the airport for 6 hours before the flight and MISSED IT. How does that happen? So, after my two previous days of bad luck, this topped it all. Not only was I not getting to Italy that night, I could not get another flight until the following evening...for 185 pounds (or roughly $370). Then, I also had to find a place to stay. I could have tried to contact Tom again, but I didnt want to inconvienence him, plus to get into London and back to the airport would have cost me about the same as one night in a guesthouse. So I opted for a 70 pound guesthouse that was close to the airport. So $500 later and a missed day in Italy, I learned the hard way how to tell time like the rest of the world does...
Throughout all of it, Paolo was a saint. He was a little shocked when I told him--his response..."but Maggie, how do you lose your airplane?" So cute.
He picked me up at the airport after 2 of the longest days of my life. (A total of 17 hours in the airport) and brought me to his beautiful villa where we are staying. My first day here, I met a bazillion cousins, brothers, friends, uncles, etc...and I met his mom (nerve wracking). It is really hard meeting all of these people because I want to make a good impression, however this is difficult to do when I cannot speak to them aside from saying "hello, nice to meet you." He drove me around the area and we went to the beach--which was wonderful. We were also planning and preparing for his 30th birthday party the next day. We ate dinner on the roof of the villa with his friend Liza and her date, and then called it a night...
Until about 4am when I woke up feeling like total crap. I started getting sick at about 7am (as in vomiting, sick) and did not stop until the afternoon. I dont know if I have ever slept so much in a single day. I had no energy at all, I could barely lift myself out of bed to run to the bathroom. I felt soooo terrible, because he was running around trying to take care of last minute party stuff, and at the same time he wanted to take care of me. Yesterday was the first day that I really felt homesick--you know when you are sick and all you want is to be someplace you are comfortable and do not have to worry about anything? That is how I was feeling. I think the non-stop, India-Rome-London-Stockholm-London-2 days in an airport-Lecce, took a major toll on my body, and it all came to a head yesterday. Today I am feeling much better. Not 100%, but I managed to eat some pasta, and fruit, which is a vast improvement from yesterday when I choked down a couple crackers and an apple.
I did end up going to the party. Needless to say, I wasnt doing much partying. I did my best to appear really happy and to be having a great time, because I did not want Paolo to be worried about me, but all I really wanted was to be back in bed. It was nice to meet all of his friends, and had I been able to drink some of the sangria, then conversations might have been even better. (Its funny how when Italian people start drinking their english gets much better...opposite of us, our english gets worse!) There are very few people here that can speak english, and the ones that do are often nervous because they do not practice much, so they are embarrassed or worried about making mistakes. However, what they don't understand is that I appreciate any effort and totally admire the fact that they can speak another language--this is something that this trip has really inspired me to do...I feel bad about people always having to communicate with me in MY language. Although, realistically if I were to learn to speak another language, the most sensible would be Spanish. (plus, I've had 5 years of it in school) But, these days Italian is the most appealing...
Oh, I forgot to mention what else Paolo showed me on my first day here. As we were driving to the villa, we drove through the little town where his family lives and their business is located. As we approached one corner he said "my parents house starts here" and then we drove for 30 more seconds, and at the end of the block he said "and it ends here". Ahhhhh....ok. Your parents house spans an entire block. We make a stop at his office (where he works with his dad, brother and uncle) and after that he grabbed a garage door opener and led me to a large garage by the office...where they keep their 2 Maseratis, a Porsche, a Jaguar, some kind of old-fashioned car, and Paolo's very own Ferrari. Not to mention the Audi we were driving in and the other 2 or 3 street cars they have for "regular" driving. Uh, yeah. My cars have served one purpose--to get me from point A to point B...so I did not know what to make of this. I asked him when I was going to get to see his airplane...
Aside from the constant shock I have been experiencing, we have had a really good time together. He is an absolute sweetheart, always worried about my well being. I really wish that we spoke the same language because I can tell when he is with his friends he is really funny--and dorky (which I love). But with us, the language barrier is still being worked on, so making sarcastic remarks or teasing, sometimes has to be explained. (not always, though.) There are certain things that he cannot seem to register no matter how many times we go over it, for instance, the words "say and tell." He will say "I will say him that we will meet at 5." And sometimes when he doesn't understand a word, I try to use another word to describe it and he doesn't understand that word either--so there is definitely a lot of charades going on. But, most of the time we communicate just fine. And I love that he still cannot figure out when to use he/she and will often refer to his mother or female friends as "him" or "he".
I think by tomorrow I should be back to normal--I am still exhausted, but I slept well, and I took a nap today. I should have figured this pace would eventually catch up with me, and carrying a huge backpack and my school books does not help the fatigue.
I am officially into the second half of my trip, and it has not been quite as smooth as the first half, but I was expecting days like the dreadful 7/7/07 to arise. (I didnt think it was going to be that expensive of a lesson to learn...) But, I have been able to keep my perspective, and realize that days like that happen, and I am very lucky to be able to be doing what I am doing.
Ok, back to homework, which I have been neglecting a bit. (oops...) Its hard to focus on homework when you are with prince charming at a villa in southern Italy...
Wrong. My flight was a 5:15pm. Yep...you guessed it. I was sitting in the damn airport and missed my flight. I was actually talking to Paolo on instant messenger, and he said "What time is your flight" I said don't worry it's not until 17:15...and thats when it dawned on me. I sprinted to the departures board and saw that it was 17:18. My flight had left 3 minutes before. I was in the airport for 6 hours before the flight and MISSED IT. How does that happen? So, after my two previous days of bad luck, this topped it all. Not only was I not getting to Italy that night, I could not get another flight until the following evening...for 185 pounds (or roughly $370). Then, I also had to find a place to stay. I could have tried to contact Tom again, but I didnt want to inconvienence him, plus to get into London and back to the airport would have cost me about the same as one night in a guesthouse. So I opted for a 70 pound guesthouse that was close to the airport. So $500 later and a missed day in Italy, I learned the hard way how to tell time like the rest of the world does...
Throughout all of it, Paolo was a saint. He was a little shocked when I told him--his response..."but Maggie, how do you lose your airplane?" So cute.
He picked me up at the airport after 2 of the longest days of my life. (A total of 17 hours in the airport) and brought me to his beautiful villa where we are staying. My first day here, I met a bazillion cousins, brothers, friends, uncles, etc...and I met his mom (nerve wracking). It is really hard meeting all of these people because I want to make a good impression, however this is difficult to do when I cannot speak to them aside from saying "hello, nice to meet you." He drove me around the area and we went to the beach--which was wonderful. We were also planning and preparing for his 30th birthday party the next day. We ate dinner on the roof of the villa with his friend Liza and her date, and then called it a night...
Until about 4am when I woke up feeling like total crap. I started getting sick at about 7am (as in vomiting, sick) and did not stop until the afternoon. I dont know if I have ever slept so much in a single day. I had no energy at all, I could barely lift myself out of bed to run to the bathroom. I felt soooo terrible, because he was running around trying to take care of last minute party stuff, and at the same time he wanted to take care of me. Yesterday was the first day that I really felt homesick--you know when you are sick and all you want is to be someplace you are comfortable and do not have to worry about anything? That is how I was feeling. I think the non-stop, India-Rome-London-Stockholm-London-2 days in an airport-Lecce, took a major toll on my body, and it all came to a head yesterday. Today I am feeling much better. Not 100%, but I managed to eat some pasta, and fruit, which is a vast improvement from yesterday when I choked down a couple crackers and an apple.
I did end up going to the party. Needless to say, I wasnt doing much partying. I did my best to appear really happy and to be having a great time, because I did not want Paolo to be worried about me, but all I really wanted was to be back in bed. It was nice to meet all of his friends, and had I been able to drink some of the sangria, then conversations might have been even better. (Its funny how when Italian people start drinking their english gets much better...opposite of us, our english gets worse!) There are very few people here that can speak english, and the ones that do are often nervous because they do not practice much, so they are embarrassed or worried about making mistakes. However, what they don't understand is that I appreciate any effort and totally admire the fact that they can speak another language--this is something that this trip has really inspired me to do...I feel bad about people always having to communicate with me in MY language. Although, realistically if I were to learn to speak another language, the most sensible would be Spanish. (plus, I've had 5 years of it in school) But, these days Italian is the most appealing...
Oh, I forgot to mention what else Paolo showed me on my first day here. As we were driving to the villa, we drove through the little town where his family lives and their business is located. As we approached one corner he said "my parents house starts here" and then we drove for 30 more seconds, and at the end of the block he said "and it ends here". Ahhhhh....ok. Your parents house spans an entire block. We make a stop at his office (where he works with his dad, brother and uncle) and after that he grabbed a garage door opener and led me to a large garage by the office...where they keep their 2 Maseratis, a Porsche, a Jaguar, some kind of old-fashioned car, and Paolo's very own Ferrari. Not to mention the Audi we were driving in and the other 2 or 3 street cars they have for "regular" driving. Uh, yeah. My cars have served one purpose--to get me from point A to point B...so I did not know what to make of this. I asked him when I was going to get to see his airplane...
Aside from the constant shock I have been experiencing, we have had a really good time together. He is an absolute sweetheart, always worried about my well being. I really wish that we spoke the same language because I can tell when he is with his friends he is really funny--and dorky (which I love). But with us, the language barrier is still being worked on, so making sarcastic remarks or teasing, sometimes has to be explained. (not always, though.) There are certain things that he cannot seem to register no matter how many times we go over it, for instance, the words "say and tell." He will say "I will say him that we will meet at 5." And sometimes when he doesn't understand a word, I try to use another word to describe it and he doesn't understand that word either--so there is definitely a lot of charades going on. But, most of the time we communicate just fine. And I love that he still cannot figure out when to use he/she and will often refer to his mother or female friends as "him" or "he".
I think by tomorrow I should be back to normal--I am still exhausted, but I slept well, and I took a nap today. I should have figured this pace would eventually catch up with me, and carrying a huge backpack and my school books does not help the fatigue.
I am officially into the second half of my trip, and it has not been quite as smooth as the first half, but I was expecting days like the dreadful 7/7/07 to arise. (I didnt think it was going to be that expensive of a lesson to learn...) But, I have been able to keep my perspective, and realize that days like that happen, and I am very lucky to be able to be doing what I am doing.
Ok, back to homework, which I have been neglecting a bit. (oops...) Its hard to focus on homework when you are with prince charming at a villa in southern Italy...
Saturday, July 7, 2007
It's been one of those days...
...and it just keeps getting better. I just wrote an entire blog, tried to copy it in case it did not post correctly, and it erased the entire thing...
It all began yesterday. The weather was kind of overcast, but it was still nice enough to walk through the city. I went shopping with the plan to buy something for Micaela as a thank you for letting me stay with her. I was in a very expensive department store--equivalent to Saks--and was looking at candles and gift-ish things. I opened one of the candle boxes to smell the candle, and the bottom of the box was facing sideways. It was like slow-motion, as I watched the candle slowly slide out of the box. All I could do was wait for the CRASH as it smashed into the ground...which was quite loud.
It was about a $60 candle that lay shattered at my feet. And to make things even better, I got a piece of glass stuck in my leg, so it was bleeding pretty badly (little cut, but lots of blood). I stood there with pink glass at my feet, blood dripping down my leg and watched everyone near me pretend they didn't see it happen and quickly scurry away, thinking "that poor, dumb America girl". Luckily, the woman who worked there was really nice. She brought me a cloth and a band-aid and told me not to worry about the candle, accidents happen. I of course offered to pay, and did end up buying Micaela a similar candle (not so big and expensive). I quickly paid for my guilt-purchase and hurried out of the store avoiding all eye-contact.
I was relieved to get back to Micaela's...but as I mentioned yesterday was one of those days, so nothing could be easy. I put the key in the door, turned it counter clockwise twice, like I was taught... and nothing. The door was completely stuck. I pulled, pushed, shook, twisted, pounded. My stuff was scattered all over the hallway, I had worked up a sweat...and nada. Normally, this would not have been that big of a deal...if I had a cell phone. But, I don't. The only way I had to get a hold of people was via the internet. And, you would have thought I'd keep Micaela's and Khari's phone numbers in my purse...but I didn't. On top of it all, Micaela was on a shoot in Norway (she was working on a documentary film) so I had no idea when she was getting home.
I had to find a computer. I walked down the street to a hair salon and asked if there were any internet cafes nearby. I explained my situation and again got the "that girl" look. They told me that there were no computer places close, and asked if I had a number to call...again, I got the look. Finally, they just allowed me to use their computer to get Micaela's number and send an emergency email to her friend Karin, letting her know about my dilemma and seeing if there was anything she could do. Then I had to ask the hair salon people if I can use their phone. I called Micaela, and immediately got a recording--in Swedish. So I had to call back and have the salon receptionist listen to it and translate for me. She said "Her phone is either off or you wrote down the wrong number."
Great.
I thanked them profusely for their help and decided to go back and try the dreaded door again. This time, I decided to try my burglary skills (I used to lock myself out pretty regularly in Salt Lake, so I got good at the credit card- pop-a- lock trick). I was sliding my passport up and down around the lock to see if it would catch. Thank God none of the neighbors were home, or the police definitely would have been called. Just as I was about to give up and head to a bar for a beer or five, I heard someone coming up the stairs. It was Micaela. She must have thought I really missed her when she saw how excited I was to see her. You see, there are 2 locks on Micaela's door. I only had a key to the bottom lock, and apparently when I left the top lock had somehow locked. So she opened the door and I ran in and emailed Karin telling her that no rescue units needed to be sent out. (Micaela had forgotten her phone charger on her trip, so no one was able to get a hold of her...)
After that ordeal, we decided to have a quiet night. I had to get up at 3am because I had a taxi to the train station to get a bus to the airport (1.5 hour ride) to make my 6:40 flight. And now I am in the airport for 9 hours before I fly to Italy. I am going to be a zombie by the time I see Paolo. And probably a pretty scary-looking one at that. We got home from dinner at midnight, so I thought I would get 3 hours of sleep. But, no such luck. It was one of those nights where I could not shut my brain off (I hate that), and I never fell asleep.
Micaela and I had a really nice time together. It was good to spend the last night with her--she is really an amazing woman. I sat and listened to her speak in 3 different languages effortlessly in a matter of 2 minutes. She is super talented, and just a ton of fun to be around. I hope it isn't too long before we get to spend time together again...I'd love to travel with her. South America, Micaela??!?
So, to keep yesterday's theme going, today I've lost one of my favorite earrings somewhere between Stockholm and London, and a little girl spilled her chocolate milk all over my WHITE pants. Like I said, I am going to look like a princess for Paolo...
Oh, and Tiff is changing the plans again. Actually it's her dad this time. He has booked a trip to Italy beginning on August 8th. She is planning on meeting him there meaning she is cutting her time in Morocco by a week. She said she will probably meet me in Ghana--which I really, really hope happens because I have been looking so foward to going to Africa, I'd hate to have to change it. It is just not somewhere I feel comfortable traveling by myself. I know I'd be fine, but I won't go alone.
Paolo and his cousin are planning on going to Morocco with us, so we'll see how it all plays out. I am hoping that Tiff comes to Morocco from July 31-Aug 8, then goes and hangs with her dad and meets me in Ghana as planned on Aug 16th. I am feeling a little bit frustrated because plans keep changing. But, I keep trying to remember how lucky I am to just be on this trip, and go with the flow--no point in crying over spilt milk. (ha! clever, Maggie--I am proud of that one considering my brain is in no way functioning on all cylinders right now)
Stockholm was great...and as per usual, I met a really nice guy--Lars (yes, he's Swedish...did the name give it away?) He was very smart, cute, funny...where do these guys come from??! (Europe obviously...oh, and Australia) Lars is getting his PhD right now in some kind of space (like outer space) physics stuff. So any rocket scientist jokes do not apply to him...cause he's like a real one. If there are any single women out there that feel like traveling, come join me--there seem to be plenty of eligible (and worthwhile) guys in this part of the world!
So I guess I'll go do some more duty free shopping now and try to pass the time...don't worry Paolo, I will stay out of the sunglasses store this time :) Which is probably a good idea anyways, with the way I'm moving these days I'd probably break a £500 pair of glasses...
Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.
It all began yesterday. The weather was kind of overcast, but it was still nice enough to walk through the city. I went shopping with the plan to buy something for Micaela as a thank you for letting me stay with her. I was in a very expensive department store--equivalent to Saks--and was looking at candles and gift-ish things. I opened one of the candle boxes to smell the candle, and the bottom of the box was facing sideways. It was like slow-motion, as I watched the candle slowly slide out of the box. All I could do was wait for the CRASH as it smashed into the ground...which was quite loud.
It was about a $60 candle that lay shattered at my feet. And to make things even better, I got a piece of glass stuck in my leg, so it was bleeding pretty badly (little cut, but lots of blood). I stood there with pink glass at my feet, blood dripping down my leg and watched everyone near me pretend they didn't see it happen and quickly scurry away, thinking "that poor, dumb America girl". Luckily, the woman who worked there was really nice. She brought me a cloth and a band-aid and told me not to worry about the candle, accidents happen. I of course offered to pay, and did end up buying Micaela a similar candle (not so big and expensive). I quickly paid for my guilt-purchase and hurried out of the store avoiding all eye-contact.
I was relieved to get back to Micaela's...but as I mentioned yesterday was one of those days, so nothing could be easy. I put the key in the door, turned it counter clockwise twice, like I was taught... and nothing. The door was completely stuck. I pulled, pushed, shook, twisted, pounded. My stuff was scattered all over the hallway, I had worked up a sweat...and nada. Normally, this would not have been that big of a deal...if I had a cell phone. But, I don't. The only way I had to get a hold of people was via the internet. And, you would have thought I'd keep Micaela's and Khari's phone numbers in my purse...but I didn't. On top of it all, Micaela was on a shoot in Norway (she was working on a documentary film) so I had no idea when she was getting home.
I had to find a computer. I walked down the street to a hair salon and asked if there were any internet cafes nearby. I explained my situation and again got the "that girl" look. They told me that there were no computer places close, and asked if I had a number to call...again, I got the look. Finally, they just allowed me to use their computer to get Micaela's number and send an emergency email to her friend Karin, letting her know about my dilemma and seeing if there was anything she could do. Then I had to ask the hair salon people if I can use their phone. I called Micaela, and immediately got a recording--in Swedish. So I had to call back and have the salon receptionist listen to it and translate for me. She said "Her phone is either off or you wrote down the wrong number."
Great.
I thanked them profusely for their help and decided to go back and try the dreaded door again. This time, I decided to try my burglary skills (I used to lock myself out pretty regularly in Salt Lake, so I got good at the credit card- pop-a- lock trick). I was sliding my passport up and down around the lock to see if it would catch. Thank God none of the neighbors were home, or the police definitely would have been called. Just as I was about to give up and head to a bar for a beer or five, I heard someone coming up the stairs. It was Micaela. She must have thought I really missed her when she saw how excited I was to see her. You see, there are 2 locks on Micaela's door. I only had a key to the bottom lock, and apparently when I left the top lock had somehow locked. So she opened the door and I ran in and emailed Karin telling her that no rescue units needed to be sent out. (Micaela had forgotten her phone charger on her trip, so no one was able to get a hold of her...)
After that ordeal, we decided to have a quiet night. I had to get up at 3am because I had a taxi to the train station to get a bus to the airport (1.5 hour ride) to make my 6:40 flight. And now I am in the airport for 9 hours before I fly to Italy. I am going to be a zombie by the time I see Paolo. And probably a pretty scary-looking one at that. We got home from dinner at midnight, so I thought I would get 3 hours of sleep. But, no such luck. It was one of those nights where I could not shut my brain off (I hate that), and I never fell asleep.
Micaela and I had a really nice time together. It was good to spend the last night with her--she is really an amazing woman. I sat and listened to her speak in 3 different languages effortlessly in a matter of 2 minutes. She is super talented, and just a ton of fun to be around. I hope it isn't too long before we get to spend time together again...I'd love to travel with her. South America, Micaela??!?
So, to keep yesterday's theme going, today I've lost one of my favorite earrings somewhere between Stockholm and London, and a little girl spilled her chocolate milk all over my WHITE pants. Like I said, I am going to look like a princess for Paolo...
Oh, and Tiff is changing the plans again. Actually it's her dad this time. He has booked a trip to Italy beginning on August 8th. She is planning on meeting him there meaning she is cutting her time in Morocco by a week. She said she will probably meet me in Ghana--which I really, really hope happens because I have been looking so foward to going to Africa, I'd hate to have to change it. It is just not somewhere I feel comfortable traveling by myself. I know I'd be fine, but I won't go alone.
Paolo and his cousin are planning on going to Morocco with us, so we'll see how it all plays out. I am hoping that Tiff comes to Morocco from July 31-Aug 8, then goes and hangs with her dad and meets me in Ghana as planned on Aug 16th. I am feeling a little bit frustrated because plans keep changing. But, I keep trying to remember how lucky I am to just be on this trip, and go with the flow--no point in crying over spilt milk. (ha! clever, Maggie--I am proud of that one considering my brain is in no way functioning on all cylinders right now)
Stockholm was great...and as per usual, I met a really nice guy--Lars (yes, he's Swedish...did the name give it away?) He was very smart, cute, funny...where do these guys come from??! (Europe obviously...oh, and Australia) Lars is getting his PhD right now in some kind of space (like outer space) physics stuff. So any rocket scientist jokes do not apply to him...cause he's like a real one. If there are any single women out there that feel like traveling, come join me--there seem to be plenty of eligible (and worthwhile) guys in this part of the world!
So I guess I'll go do some more duty free shopping now and try to pass the time...don't worry Paolo, I will stay out of the sunglasses store this time :) Which is probably a good idea anyways, with the way I'm moving these days I'd probably break a £500 pair of glasses...
Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.
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