GOOOOOOOODDAY MY FELLOW AMERICANS.
This entry, though probably short and sweet, was brought to my attention earlier today at a school assembly and after 3 different people tried explaining it simply to me in Italian, and I still couldn't wrap my head around it, I ended up going home and researching it through the sides of both the United States and Italy.
The matter of this research is MUOS, which stands for Mobile Use Objective System. These devices are a complex group of 5 satellites in outer space and 4 ground stations, serving for the purpose of enhancing the capability, speed, accessibility, and quality of service for the United States Armed Forces abroad. The 4 ground stations being in Hawaii, southeast Virginia, Australia, and one near and dear to my heart, Niscemi, Sicily.
How this system functions is by ultra-high frequency waves sent through the satellites, the satellites being replacements for cell phone towers, with the system having the same capabilities of a cell phone. The advantage of these satellites are being able to have more contact with "disadvantaged environments", being places with dense forests and limited coverage within the canopy of the trees. This will provide point-to-point and netted communication to the American military, which means access to voice, data, and videos spanning the globe.
I'm gonna guess none of you knew about this, right America?
This 2.11 billion dollar project has been in existence through our Department of Defense since 2004, and is expected to be in full out orbit by 2015.
But what's the problem with it?
If you scan through some articles written by Americans, you will only hear the good things about MUOS and how it will expand the connectivity of our military, yadayadayada. But here in Sicily where this is an everyday issue that is discussed at school, at home, at the public rallies that are held about it, and this is why.
Straight from a page in Italian, www.nomuos.org, MUOS is considered a danger by the people here, because of the high electromagnetic frequency produced by the radiowaves. The health of those who have pace-makers installed in there bodies are also at concern here, because of the electromagnetic field produced could easily be sufficient enough to disturb the progress made by these mechanisms of the people in neighboring communities. The reason this is an issue in Sicily and not in Hawaii, Virginia, or Australia, is because the land base in Niscemi is the only one of these four that is installed close to the public.
So, if we wanna get down to the bare bone of this, we are microwaving people with our high-tech military installations.
As you can see, this is a current event here, not in the States, even though we are the ones doing it. Isn't that kind of messed up? Not accusing anyone here, but I'm just proving how uninformed we are. Me, being a fairly well informed American student that has a pretty large knowledge of the world around her, came here not knowing diddly squat of MUOS. I find it very intriguing.
So, the question is now, MUOS, or no MUOS?
To be continued by 2015.
On exchange in Catania, Italy, spending my sophomore year of high school with AFS Intercultural 2013-2014. This blog is basically my journal.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Sunday, February 9, 2014
nel mezzo del cammino di mia vita
MOTHER OF GOD I DID IT.
HALF OF IT.
Attention all blog readers (aka everyone who has gotten so sick of my mother's links to this blog on facebook that they just ended up clicking on one to see what it's all about), I have MADE IT. HALFWAY. Actually a little over half because halfway was 2 or 3 days ago depending on how you count it. But I have around 150 days left.
Let's recap (BECAUSE IT'S FEBRUARY AND NOTHING HAPPENS IN FEBRUARY)
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- September 4th, 2013. I left my house with a half gallon of Turkey Hill iced tea and a scarf to knit for the drive to New York City with my mom and her friend.
The view from our far corner table of the orientation in New York with all the kids going to: Spain, France, Italy, Ghana, the Netherlands, Bosnia, and Belgium. - September 5th, 2013. I left the country in Doctor Who leggings and 90 other kids where I flew over and out of the country for the first time, saw France, Germany, and slept on the airport floor in Switzerland.
One of my last glimpses at America. - September 6th, 2013. Arrived in Rome and died of air poisoning from the terrible smell at the airport, got to camp and took a shower (the last shower I would ever walk around after with wet hair in public), and started a bajillion new friendships
The night I hung out on the roof of our hotel with mah girls.
Anna from Austria. - September 9th, 2013. My first day in Catania.
Leaving Rome.
My first of many terrible pictures with Roosa. - September 21st, 2013. Switched host families.
- October 19th, 2013. Palermo Orientation Camp!
MY HOODRATZ.
My view from my hotel room when I decided to wake up before dawn to take a long shower.
Oh god, I've been meaning to share this. This....this is China. And the vocalist is Momo, the coolest Chinese girl you will ever meet. - November 3rd, 2013 Gita to Siracusa
- November (in general): I actually skyped with my family back home, cried about missing Thanksgiving (not really), finally took my camera to school, started speaking Italian for the major part of my life.
- December: Mattia came home from Belgium, my school was occupied, my little sister's birthday, got into my first fender bender with my family, Hektor's return to Sicily,La Festa Della Luce, my first Italian Christmas, field trip to Mineo, Sicily.
- New Years: Here's a little story I didn't tell you all about. New years was spent playing Sicilian cards (which I only lost every time), Fifa, and insane hide and seek outside. I was at a party with my two brothers and we didn't get home until 6:30 in the morning New Year's Day. But, at midnight we all went outside to set off fireworks, and so did everyone else in Sicily. I was able to stand up on the wall of their garden, and look off into the horizon and see 25+ different sets of fireworks going off at the same time. It was surreal. Then we set off one of those lanterns like in that scene from Tangled, which almost set a cactus on fire. (and let the chorus chime in) I LOVE MY LIFE.
- January, 2014: field trip to Taormina, I become fully functional in school, field trip with the family to central Sicily at the Roman bathhouse thing, a tour with my sisters school of the same place my host parents got married at, getting my residence perrmit from Hell, Nano coming to visit.
Roman Dining Hall
Host mom's birthday lunch.
First course at host mom's birthday lunch (not only for me as much as I wanted it to be)
On the tour, this was the ceiling of the room my host parents got married in. Where you can kind of see the hole in the roof is where the opera singers would be.
My baby from Japan, Ko!

Oh look it's another (we both are Roosa's models) - February, 2014: halfway point, Sant'Agata holiday, ?????
So, who knows where I will end up this month. Or the next month. Or the next. We'll just have to wait and see.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
immigrant song. (aaaaaaahhhhh AH!)
Ciao ragazzi!
Coming up to my 5th month marker in Italy (and my English is slowly creeping away from me day by day), I am using this famous Led Zeppelin reference to describe a three day experience I had at the godforsaken immigration office of Catania. It really opened my eyes to how immigrants are treated, because for 3 days in a row I was treated exactly as an immigrant would be treated, if not a little more fair.
Monday, I missed school to go to the immigration office for the first time in my life (because I'm not technically an immigrant but I still kind of count as one). At 11, my mom picked me up from the house to go home. The immigration office is sideways to the police station of Catania, so we entered the police station first and then to the immigration office.
The immigration office was a room about the size of a large living room packed to the brim with immigrants, and 2 windows: one packed with people, one slightly open but yet there was still a line. I luckily was part of the one slightly open with a line. This day really doesn't matter because we were turned away because we didn't have the correct paperwork since I switched families, so, we returned the next day.
Tuesday, we woke up at the same time as my brothers woke up for school to go to the immigration office as soon as it opened at 9ish. Yet again, the office was packed in the same formation as the day before; to the left was a mob, to the right was a line. We had to wait for a little while (which was a terrible thing for the immigration office to make me do) because I observe when I have nothing to do. So, this is what I observed.
Most of the immigrants that I was sharing the living space with were African or Southern Asian, with a few eastern Europeans thrown into the mix. At the window to the left were mostly Africans and on the other side of the window was a single woman handling every one of them.
Heeeere comes Point A.
This lady who was obviously monolingual (in reality it's pretty rational to think that people working at an immigration office would speak more than just Italian which is only spoken in like, 2 countries on the planet) was yelling through a glass window at them, who some understood, some could not. But for the record (just mentally picture me agressively typing this on my living room couch) SCREAMING IN YOUR OWN LANGUAGE WILL NOT HELP PEOPLE UNDERSTAND YOU JIMINY FLIPPING CHRISTMAS. Yes, they are crowding the window. Yes, they don't speak perfect Italian. Yes, they may miss a paper or two, but for the love of all that is holy on this planet at least try to help them for goodness sake. It's like you are trying to be a gigantic coglione. It takes effort to be that rude.
Point B.
Everyone has their own story, and whether you want to know it or be a part of it, you have to respect it. Let this be a reminder that homeless, immigrants, criminals, and everyone in between are actual human beings and not a different species of their own. Also they didn't just pop up one day to quote-on-quote "terrorize" the world as we basically expect them to. They have mouths to feed, they've got ends to meet, they've got people that may be depending on them. I'm guilty of turning my head away from beggars on the street and merchants selling knockoff Nike sneakers or sunglasses but they are human, people. We are literally dehumanizing them by the way we live around them instead of with them. It's the way they live and you know what? It may seem like an act of desperation when they stick out a cup and ask for pocket change but I can guarantee you that if you dropped everything you owned tomorrow and took up the lifestyle of one of them, you wouldn't be able to handle it. They are strong people. They know how to live life in a way that is like another species to us, but to them, it's reality.
I abuse the italics button.
LET'S GET HAPPAY!
On a much lighter note, that same day as I encountered that mess and had that conversation in my head, I walked a lot. One of the reasons being that after the appointment at the office my host mom had to go to work, and she just kind of said "okay see ya byez" and left me to find my way back home. I didn't know where I was, so I just kind of.....walked.
1.5 hours, an outdoor market, and a humongous wrong turn later, I arrived at my home after walking what I know AT LEAST was 5 or 6 kilometers (2.5-3 miles), to change clothes, scarf down some lunch, and walk a little over 3 more kilometers to the train station of Catania to pick up.......NANO! In case we have some new readers (welcome by the way), Nano is my friend from Argentina who lives a town over that I have become besties with, who looks like this:
Coming up to my 5th month marker in Italy (and my English is slowly creeping away from me day by day), I am using this famous Led Zeppelin reference to describe a three day experience I had at the godforsaken immigration office of Catania. It really opened my eyes to how immigrants are treated, because for 3 days in a row I was treated exactly as an immigrant would be treated, if not a little more fair.
Monday, I missed school to go to the immigration office for the first time in my life (because I'm not technically an immigrant but I still kind of count as one). At 11, my mom picked me up from the house to go home. The immigration office is sideways to the police station of Catania, so we entered the police station first and then to the immigration office.
The immigration office was a room about the size of a large living room packed to the brim with immigrants, and 2 windows: one packed with people, one slightly open but yet there was still a line. I luckily was part of the one slightly open with a line. This day really doesn't matter because we were turned away because we didn't have the correct paperwork since I switched families, so, we returned the next day.
Tuesday, we woke up at the same time as my brothers woke up for school to go to the immigration office as soon as it opened at 9ish. Yet again, the office was packed in the same formation as the day before; to the left was a mob, to the right was a line. We had to wait for a little while (which was a terrible thing for the immigration office to make me do) because I observe when I have nothing to do. So, this is what I observed.
Most of the immigrants that I was sharing the living space with were African or Southern Asian, with a few eastern Europeans thrown into the mix. At the window to the left were mostly Africans and on the other side of the window was a single woman handling every one of them.
Heeeere comes Point A.
This lady who was obviously monolingual (in reality it's pretty rational to think that people working at an immigration office would speak more than just Italian which is only spoken in like, 2 countries on the planet) was yelling through a glass window at them, who some understood, some could not. But for the record (just mentally picture me agressively typing this on my living room couch) SCREAMING IN YOUR OWN LANGUAGE WILL NOT HELP PEOPLE UNDERSTAND YOU JIMINY FLIPPING CHRISTMAS. Yes, they are crowding the window. Yes, they don't speak perfect Italian. Yes, they may miss a paper or two, but for the love of all that is holy on this planet at least try to help them for goodness sake. It's like you are trying to be a gigantic coglione. It takes effort to be that rude.
Point B.
Everyone has their own story, and whether you want to know it or be a part of it, you have to respect it. Let this be a reminder that homeless, immigrants, criminals, and everyone in between are actual human beings and not a different species of their own. Also they didn't just pop up one day to quote-on-quote "terrorize" the world as we basically expect them to. They have mouths to feed, they've got ends to meet, they've got people that may be depending on them. I'm guilty of turning my head away from beggars on the street and merchants selling knockoff Nike sneakers or sunglasses but they are human, people. We are literally dehumanizing them by the way we live around them instead of with them. It's the way they live and you know what? It may seem like an act of desperation when they stick out a cup and ask for pocket change but I can guarantee you that if you dropped everything you owned tomorrow and took up the lifestyle of one of them, you wouldn't be able to handle it. They are strong people. They know how to live life in a way that is like another species to us, but to them, it's reality.
I abuse the italics button.
LET'S GET HAPPAY!
On a much lighter note, that same day as I encountered that mess and had that conversation in my head, I walked a lot. One of the reasons being that after the appointment at the office my host mom had to go to work, and she just kind of said "okay see ya byez" and left me to find my way back home. I didn't know where I was, so I just kind of.....walked.
1.5 hours, an outdoor market, and a humongous wrong turn later, I arrived at my home after walking what I know AT LEAST was 5 or 6 kilometers (2.5-3 miles), to change clothes, scarf down some lunch, and walk a little over 3 more kilometers to the train station of Catania to pick up.......NANO! In case we have some new readers (welcome by the way), Nano is my friend from Argentina who lives a town over that I have become besties with, who looks like this:
A nice transformation Thursday for ya.
At 2 I picked him up at the station and we started off for the center of the city, eating at McDonalds (the kid loves that place). Through the center of the city, we swung through Villa Bellini, and saw a couple monuments of Catania, which then after we still had a crap ton of time to use. So, little did I know before hand, but he actually loves to go shopping. And I love to pick stuff out for people to wear. He ended up buying something I picked out for him (successssssssss)!
Little teeny tiny tidbit and a promo for AFS: THIS IS WHY YOU ALL NEED TO HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH EXCHANGE. HOST A KID. SEND YOUR KIDS ABROAD. GO ABROAD YOURSELF. BECOME A VOLUNTEER. This is only one of the lifelong friendships I've made in only about 5 months in Sicily. I can't think of a reason to not be an exchange student with all of the reasons I'm giving you. So seriously, don't EVEREVEREVEREVEREVEREVEREVEREVER pass up on the chance if you get it to become involved with AFS, or just take the chance yourself.
Booyah.
Friday, January 10, 2014
on the third week of christmas (break) AFS gave to me.....
That last entry made my computer bug out, I think out of the longevity, possibly. (It was kind of making me bug out as well). Before it did, I began telling a story of one of the day trips that AFS and my family took over the course of a week. From December 29th to January 7th, here's what went down.
Gita #1: Mineo, Sicily.
On December 29th (amazing how I actually have gotten so behind that I have to use actual dates now. It's only out of business.....maybe.), AFS planned a day trip (almost) to the town of Mineo, an hour and a half's drive southwest of Catania. Being completely lost in life, generally speaking, I woke up 45 minutes too early, so I sat in my room and basically fell back asleep until we were all ready to go. All seven of us, since Hektor was still with us (if you haven't read about that Swiss kid and you honestly want to know who he was, click this thaaaaang).
Before leaving Catania and entering "la campagna" (the countryside), we had to drop my nonna (grandmother) off at her house and meet up with the friends of my brother, because we were following each other in a different car (there were originally 9 of us in one van, it wasn't going to happen). So, we met up and my host parents got a coffee outside of the apartment of my brothers friend, and then separated into our cars, my brother (who was in the other car) gave us the finger as they drove past, and we were off to Mineo for the day!
What made Mineo so special was the Christmas presepe (nativities) set up around the town that we were going to be touring that day. There were two types of these nativities, one being permanently a part of the town and the others being artistic, or only there for one year. To give you an idea of one of these, here is one that took 2 months to construct:
Gita #1: Mineo, Sicily.
On December 29th (amazing how I actually have gotten so behind that I have to use actual dates now. It's only out of business.....maybe.), AFS planned a day trip (almost) to the town of Mineo, an hour and a half's drive southwest of Catania. Being completely lost in life, generally speaking, I woke up 45 minutes too early, so I sat in my room and basically fell back asleep until we were all ready to go. All seven of us, since Hektor was still with us (if you haven't read about that Swiss kid and you honestly want to know who he was, click this thaaaaang).
Before leaving Catania and entering "la campagna" (the countryside), we had to drop my nonna (grandmother) off at her house and meet up with the friends of my brother, because we were following each other in a different car (there were originally 9 of us in one van, it wasn't going to happen). So, we met up and my host parents got a coffee outside of the apartment of my brothers friend, and then separated into our cars, my brother (who was in the other car) gave us the finger as they drove past, and we were off to Mineo for the day!
What made Mineo so special was the Christmas presepe (nativities) set up around the town that we were going to be touring that day. There were two types of these nativities, one being permanently a part of the town and the others being artistic, or only there for one year. To give you an idea of one of these, here is one that took 2 months to construct:
These nativities were set up in little nooks and crannies all over the city. There were arrows with numbers leading our way, but our way was very schizophrenic. At one point, our whole group had to go through this. THIS IS A STREET. A BLOODY STREET. I HAD TO WALK SIDEWAYS TO GET MY BUTT TO FIT THROUGH IT. THIS IS WHY I WALK 4 KILOMETERS A DAY FOR SCHOOL, PEOPLE.
This was really just what our day way, presepe and a beautiful view of Sicily from the town. There's not much else to it.
Notice Etna in the left side of the picture. She's covered in snow.
Siblings.
The only picture I personally have of me with a family member. This is my brother, Mattia.
It's impossible for Roosa and I to take a picture without looking like we just woke up.
These random people are Gabriele, an AFS volunteer that was Hektor's liaison last year, my host sister Celeste, and Hektor, the Swiss kid, himself.
Gita #2: Taormina, Sicily.
On the fourth of January, the chapters of Catania, Ragusa, Giarre, Siracusa, and Messina all went to the town of Taormina, nearing Calabria (the toe of the boot of the Italian penninsula) but still on Sicily. Taormina is about a 2 1/2 hour bus ride from Catania, and we were literally the only people on the bus. Roosa and I just sat and listened to a collection of our weird/crappy/old music on our phones and talked for most of the bus ride (who knew Finns like Zac Brown Band?) But anyways this was the view from the piazza in Taormina.
Annnnnnd this sums up my friendship with Ari (Danish Faroe Islands) perfectly.
Taormina is a very touristic city that is beautiful, yet pretty tacky. Being in the way that the whole set up of the city and the streets is so iconic Italy-esque, but those buildings are filled with tourist shops and expensive crap that you could get so much cheaper and in better quality in any other town. The way it is set up is all of the city is in the north (the city is on a hill), and in the south is where an island is, called La Isola Bella (the beautiful island). We were only in the north this day. So as usual, I ganged up with Roosa, Nano, Hiroshi, and as a step-in for Lucy who had to return to Guatemala in the beginning of December (she was here for the same time frame that Mattia was in Belgium), was Veera, another girl from Finland. We were given freetime to roam, as usual. Which didn't result in much, just pictures and nothing else. We met back in the piazza to go to the Greek/Roman theater that afternoon.
I had already been to this theater with my first host family, so I knew what to expect (slightly). To go into detail, the theater was made my both Greeks and Romans (the Romans came into the picture slightly later). This can be told by the types of stones that are seen in use. The Greeks didn't use square or rectangular bricks in building. They used more crude stones, so they weren't perfectly angled. The difference in the seats also changes, as well as the fact that the columns at the front of the theater were added by the Romans.
The typical Kara and Gabriele picture.
The typical Kara and Nano picture.
After the theater we had the option to either go to the Villa (city park) or roam around some more. I really just wanted to have something organized for me to do so I chose to go to the Villa. Maeve, also from America, went to the Villa as well. We walked together and basically had all of those deep, philosopher thoughts come out in rivers as we don't talk much in English anymore so they were bottled up. We also sat on the bus together going home where even more of these thoughts were released. It felt good to have someone just understand me completely.
Gita #3: Villa Romana del Casale
On the 6th, it was my host mom's birthday and Befana (kind of like a version of Santa, only with stockings and it's really an old woman with a broom and black cape and glowing red eyes who is not a witch). But anyways, after waking up to my host dad's sock hanging on my door handle filled with candy, my family set off for Villa Romana del Casale, about a mile outside of a town called Piazza Armerina, in the middle of Sicily. What made this our destination was that Villa Romana del Casale was a gigantic Roman Villa, with the floors completely done in all in hand-laid mosaics.
Remember in the 6th grade, when you learned about Pompeii or the Roman empire, when there were the public bath houses and toilets and saunas all in one building? This was what one of them was. Because my computer/blogger hates me (plus pictures were forbidden there anyways so I shouldn't be showing them to you), it will take too frustratingly long to upload pictures now. But from google, this is what it looks like.
This was a bath. The door on the left was used for common people, the door on the right was used for the higher class and the family that owned the Villa.
This was the dining room. It was so big because the Romans laid down as they ate. The picture depicted in the mosaic is the triumphs of Hercules and the fall of the mythical creatures he defeated (I remember the very top is red giants).
And this is the most spectacular mosaic of them all. It is called "Great Hunt", and depicts the capturing and shipping of animals in Egypt and shipment to Europe, which happened through Sicily. Elephants, buffalos, ostriches, lions, are all shown being pulled by men onto the boat, while others are being hunted. It's truly a miraculous mosaic. All done by hand. All of them. And each piece is about the size of your pinky nail. Let that sink in.
I'm sorry for the lateness of this post that I said was going to be so soon after my last one. But hey, I uploaded a ton of pictures even though blogger was being mean! Hope you enjoyed this last one. I don't know of anything else exciting coming up that you should look forward to, so.....
ci vediamo!
Saturday, January 4, 2014
minchia mbare, sei la merda.
Madonna, it's been way too long!
I mean really. Now I have to remember what has actually gone on for the past 2 weeks and put them in a cutesy little story for all of you. I don't know if you realize how much of a struggle this is for a lazy 16 year old girl whose only two statuses are bored out of her mind or so busy she can't stop to breathe. Since I remember exactly what happened the night I posted the last entry, let us start from there, and go on with all of the things my brain permits me to remember.
LA FESTA DELLA LUCE
December 18th-22nd, my school was holding a festival for Christmas. This festival was called La Festa Della Luce (The Festival of Light). This is an annual event in Catania where every year, a man chooses a school to hold the festival. This year, my school Boggio Lera was selected and we had the 4 day festival of light. The reason it is in December and more importantly just before Christmas actually has no relation to Christmas itself. It's focus is on the winter solstice, when the dark becomes light. The first two days of FDL were the dark days, in the midst was the solstice, and the last two days were light.
In the school, there was no artificial light (even though this festival only took place from 6:30 to 10 after it was already dark). Everything was illuminated by candles. The decorations, all made by people from the school or who had the invitation by the FDL people, were all white, clear, reflectant, you get the picture. For Intercultura, we had a room which I was volunteered to work in for 2 nights along with two other kids. The first night was with Vincent, the boy from Hong Kong in my chapter, and the second night was with Marie from Greenland. In our room, we decorated it with our international languages and the word "light" written in each of them. From the ceiling we suspended a few hundred slips of paper with our languages (okay there were more than 7 because some of the kids in our chapter are bilingual/trilingual so there were: Chinese (the word was written the same in Mandarin and Cantonese), Thai, Serbian, Greenlandic, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, Spanish, Guaraní (an indigenous language from Paraguay), Italian, and English. Through the night(s) in our room, we read poetry in these languages and some of us even sang. I crossed something off my bucketlist and sang "Oh Holy Night" (thankfully not the Mariah Carey version) both nights. Probably, I sang that same song at least 40 to 50 times in the course of those two nights.
I'm sorry I don't have a video or photos of me (when do I ever in all honesty.... you all are used to my disorganized blog already!), but I know there are A LOT floating around this city somewhere. I saw you all and I would kind of really like to see them.
CHRISTMAS
The end of this festival brings me eagerly to the beginning of one of the biggest (if not the biggest) event of the year: CHRISTMAS.
Coming up to Christmas this year, I wasn't in the normal ugly-sweaters-while-listening-to-carols-non-stop mood. Because my body still thinks it's September due to the weather and it's so weird being away from home for Christmas. I didn't have my favorite artificial Christmas tree with the colored lights, I didn't have my comfort food, I didn't have my youth group ugly sweater contest (which I am a two-time award winner of), I didn't have my school countdown until we were unleashed, I didn't have that Christmas feel. So that "omg it's Christmas" feeling didn't kick me in the butt until December 24th.
The morning of Christmas Eve, it was only us kids at home. So we all slept ungodly late and woke up to sit in our pajamas and watch television. My host dad came home around 11 or 12, and basically said "we gotta get crap done!" So we immediately changed and started organizing the house. Mattia started making a playlist of Christmas music, Gianluca (I'm pretty sure) took the dog out and did grocery store runs, and I was put on the hunt of chairs, because we were having 14 people at our house for Christmas dinner.
For lunch, my mom, aunt, and grandpa came and we just threw together some sandwiches because we were going to cook so much later. After my mom and aunt returned to shopping, my grandfather left, and then it was back to business. Cooking, setting the table in a nice manner, etc.
At about 7 was when it became game time for real. Everyone gradually changed into their nicer clothing, my aunt and great grandmother (she's almost 94 but will always ask you how old she looks because she doesn't want to be as old as she really is. She will also corner you if you're under the age of 30 because she feels younger when she talks to young people. I am always cornered, and I can only understand about 30% of what the woman says, so it's always nice) showed up early because my aunt had to finish constructing a massive dish of tiramisu, Celeste (my 8 year old sister) and I started constructing little things that I guess ended up being like, appetizers (but we ate a lot more than we should have), and my aunt also brought her desserts to finish constructing.
At about 9, we started what I was the most excited for. DINNER. We started off with a lot of toasts with champagne and then sat down to eat. Dinner was tortellini for la prima, then onto meat and sausage with something delectable called "green sauce" which had a load of garlic in it (amen). On our white table cloth, we only spilled wine and Coca Cola 3 times. My grandma definitely got the award for biggest spill. When alcohol spills, an Italian tradition is to dip your hand in it and put it behind the ear of the people around you. Once we cleared off dinner (it took longer than you are getting from this entry), we had dessert. Tiramisu, cookies, pudding, the whole nine yards. That night, I actually caught myself thinking in Italian. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED. But, it was slowly murdered away because I skyped with my American family at 11. It really wasn't successful for the first 10 minutes because my family also wanted to skype from our loud dining room so I heard nothing, and I also was translating so I would speak the wrong language to the wrong side of the world. I ended up in my room to finish the skype call, but then was summoned by my brother to open gifts 10 minutes before midnight. Yep. Midnight.
For Christmas, I honestly wasn't expecting anything. I was thankful enough that they let me stay with them and treat me like a daughter/sister and that was enough of a gift for me. But since these are the sweetest, kindest people on the planet that I live with, Mattia got me a keychain from a Sicilian store called Siculamente, which says "Futtitinni", meaning "I don't give a crap" in Sicilian. It's actually really awesome. My aunts got me a makeup bag (which was needed because up until then I was using a Ziploc gallon bag for my toiletries I got the morning I left my house in America) and a really nice hand lotion, and my family got me a beautiful floral shirt from a store called Mango. I also gave my family their presents. Mattia and my dad put their shirts I got for them right away, plus my mom was intrigued by the book I got her of Amish recipes (which I'm going to steal for a day and make some comfort food in the near future). And at 1:30, everyone finally left and we could all go to bed. I'm still pretty sure this was one of the best Christmases ever.
Christmas day, we woke up and I attended my very first Catholic Mass! This was actually very exciting for me. I am not Catholic, so I have never been to a mass in America, let alone in Italy, the literal birthplace of the Catholic religion. My mom, sister, and I all walked down to the plaza a few blocks from our house to a small cathedral/church that was a couple centuries old. We sat at the very back because it was packed to the brim, but gradually worked our way up to the fourth row if we dispersed amongst the pew. I understood the sermon but I can't remember what it was about. It was confusing for me, being not fluent in Italian and not Catholic, because there was a lot of stand-up/sit-down action and reciting phrases that I had no clue what they were. So I just kind of stood there trying not to make eye contact with anyone as I didn't say these things. At the end was communion, when the priest took out a goblet of wine and little wafer-like pieces of bread, dipped the bread into the wine, and ate it. A line formed in front of the alter while we sang some Christmas hymn that I knew in English but it was in Italian/Latin, "Come All Ye Faithful". We had to leave slightly early because we were going to lunch at my grandmother's, so we walked to our car where my dad and Mattia was. On the way to the car, I explained that we don't actually use wine for our communion but more of a juice that looks like wine, and we take a hunk of bread and take little pinches off of it. They thought the fact that we don't use wine was hilarious, and I'm still hearing them tell people about it to this day.
Lunch at my nonna's house consisted of all the people under the age of 30 being outsourced to a smaller table, along with my Aunt Roberta (who is amazing). We basically got the seconds of all the food, which didn't take away from it's quality at all. We spent the rest of the night doing random tasks, I watched my brothers play soccer for a while (I couldn't participate because I chose to wear a stupid dress that day), sat with my grandmother for a while and talked, and we all ended up watching some National Geographic show about anteaters and their evolution (I don't know either).
To top off our Christmas Day, we went over to my great grandmother's for about an hour and a half to have tea, ran home to change, then went to the movies in the city center. We saw an American movie called "The Secret Dreams of Walter Mitty", but it was all in Italian, so I technically saw "I Sogni Segretti di Walter Mitty". It was a particularly beautiful film with Ben Stiller, and the best part is I actually understood 95% of it!
The next day (getting sick of this yet?) we celebrated Christmas at my uncle's house with my 3 cousins. More food of course was provided. We played Sicilian Cards and Tombola, the Italian version of bingo that's actually easier to win yet more frustrating to play! And of course, Fifa was played. Fifa is my religion. Or maybe Juventus (the strongest and #1 soccer team in Italy from Turin) is my religion. One of those two. I also made the first huge sexual innuendo while trying to speak Italian while asking how to say "goalie".
I mean really. Now I have to remember what has actually gone on for the past 2 weeks and put them in a cutesy little story for all of you. I don't know if you realize how much of a struggle this is for a lazy 16 year old girl whose only two statuses are bored out of her mind or so busy she can't stop to breathe. Since I remember exactly what happened the night I posted the last entry, let us start from there, and go on with all of the things my brain permits me to remember.
LA FESTA DELLA LUCE
December 18th-22nd, my school was holding a festival for Christmas. This festival was called La Festa Della Luce (The Festival of Light). This is an annual event in Catania where every year, a man chooses a school to hold the festival. This year, my school Boggio Lera was selected and we had the 4 day festival of light. The reason it is in December and more importantly just before Christmas actually has no relation to Christmas itself. It's focus is on the winter solstice, when the dark becomes light. The first two days of FDL were the dark days, in the midst was the solstice, and the last two days were light.
In the school, there was no artificial light (even though this festival only took place from 6:30 to 10 after it was already dark). Everything was illuminated by candles. The decorations, all made by people from the school or who had the invitation by the FDL people, were all white, clear, reflectant, you get the picture. For Intercultura, we had a room which I was volunteered to work in for 2 nights along with two other kids. The first night was with Vincent, the boy from Hong Kong in my chapter, and the second night was with Marie from Greenland. In our room, we decorated it with our international languages and the word "light" written in each of them. From the ceiling we suspended a few hundred slips of paper with our languages (okay there were more than 7 because some of the kids in our chapter are bilingual/trilingual so there were: Chinese (the word was written the same in Mandarin and Cantonese), Thai, Serbian, Greenlandic, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, Spanish, Guaraní (an indigenous language from Paraguay), Italian, and English. Through the night(s) in our room, we read poetry in these languages and some of us even sang. I crossed something off my bucketlist and sang "Oh Holy Night" (thankfully not the Mariah Carey version) both nights. Probably, I sang that same song at least 40 to 50 times in the course of those two nights.
I'm sorry I don't have a video or photos of me (when do I ever in all honesty.... you all are used to my disorganized blog already!), but I know there are A LOT floating around this city somewhere. I saw you all and I would kind of really like to see them.
CHRISTMAS
The end of this festival brings me eagerly to the beginning of one of the biggest (if not the biggest) event of the year: CHRISTMAS.
Coming up to Christmas this year, I wasn't in the normal ugly-sweaters-while-listening-to-carols-non-stop mood. Because my body still thinks it's September due to the weather and it's so weird being away from home for Christmas. I didn't have my favorite artificial Christmas tree with the colored lights, I didn't have my comfort food, I didn't have my youth group ugly sweater contest (which I am a two-time award winner of), I didn't have my school countdown until we were unleashed, I didn't have that Christmas feel. So that "omg it's Christmas" feeling didn't kick me in the butt until December 24th.
The morning of Christmas Eve, it was only us kids at home. So we all slept ungodly late and woke up to sit in our pajamas and watch television. My host dad came home around 11 or 12, and basically said "we gotta get crap done!" So we immediately changed and started organizing the house. Mattia started making a playlist of Christmas music, Gianluca (I'm pretty sure) took the dog out and did grocery store runs, and I was put on the hunt of chairs, because we were having 14 people at our house for Christmas dinner.
For lunch, my mom, aunt, and grandpa came and we just threw together some sandwiches because we were going to cook so much later. After my mom and aunt returned to shopping, my grandfather left, and then it was back to business. Cooking, setting the table in a nice manner, etc.
At about 7 was when it became game time for real. Everyone gradually changed into their nicer clothing, my aunt and great grandmother (she's almost 94 but will always ask you how old she looks because she doesn't want to be as old as she really is. She will also corner you if you're under the age of 30 because she feels younger when she talks to young people. I am always cornered, and I can only understand about 30% of what the woman says, so it's always nice) showed up early because my aunt had to finish constructing a massive dish of tiramisu, Celeste (my 8 year old sister) and I started constructing little things that I guess ended up being like, appetizers (but we ate a lot more than we should have), and my aunt also brought her desserts to finish constructing.
At about 9, we started what I was the most excited for. DINNER. We started off with a lot of toasts with champagne and then sat down to eat. Dinner was tortellini for la prima, then onto meat and sausage with something delectable called "green sauce" which had a load of garlic in it (amen). On our white table cloth, we only spilled wine and Coca Cola 3 times. My grandma definitely got the award for biggest spill. When alcohol spills, an Italian tradition is to dip your hand in it and put it behind the ear of the people around you. Once we cleared off dinner (it took longer than you are getting from this entry), we had dessert. Tiramisu, cookies, pudding, the whole nine yards. That night, I actually caught myself thinking in Italian. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED. But, it was slowly murdered away because I skyped with my American family at 11. It really wasn't successful for the first 10 minutes because my family also wanted to skype from our loud dining room so I heard nothing, and I also was translating so I would speak the wrong language to the wrong side of the world. I ended up in my room to finish the skype call, but then was summoned by my brother to open gifts 10 minutes before midnight. Yep. Midnight.
For Christmas, I honestly wasn't expecting anything. I was thankful enough that they let me stay with them and treat me like a daughter/sister and that was enough of a gift for me. But since these are the sweetest, kindest people on the planet that I live with, Mattia got me a keychain from a Sicilian store called Siculamente, which says "Futtitinni", meaning "I don't give a crap" in Sicilian. It's actually really awesome. My aunts got me a makeup bag (which was needed because up until then I was using a Ziploc gallon bag for my toiletries I got the morning I left my house in America) and a really nice hand lotion, and my family got me a beautiful floral shirt from a store called Mango. I also gave my family their presents. Mattia and my dad put their shirts I got for them right away, plus my mom was intrigued by the book I got her of Amish recipes (which I'm going to steal for a day and make some comfort food in the near future). And at 1:30, everyone finally left and we could all go to bed. I'm still pretty sure this was one of the best Christmases ever.
Our tree, pre-unwrapping madness.
Me, my Aunt Roberta (sister of my mother), and my sister, Celeste.
Since we are the best older siblings ever, we put Celeste on a leash and attached her to the door in the kitchen.
Christmas day, we woke up and I attended my very first Catholic Mass! This was actually very exciting for me. I am not Catholic, so I have never been to a mass in America, let alone in Italy, the literal birthplace of the Catholic religion. My mom, sister, and I all walked down to the plaza a few blocks from our house to a small cathedral/church that was a couple centuries old. We sat at the very back because it was packed to the brim, but gradually worked our way up to the fourth row if we dispersed amongst the pew. I understood the sermon but I can't remember what it was about. It was confusing for me, being not fluent in Italian and not Catholic, because there was a lot of stand-up/sit-down action and reciting phrases that I had no clue what they were. So I just kind of stood there trying not to make eye contact with anyone as I didn't say these things. At the end was communion, when the priest took out a goblet of wine and little wafer-like pieces of bread, dipped the bread into the wine, and ate it. A line formed in front of the alter while we sang some Christmas hymn that I knew in English but it was in Italian/Latin, "Come All Ye Faithful". We had to leave slightly early because we were going to lunch at my grandmother's, so we walked to our car where my dad and Mattia was. On the way to the car, I explained that we don't actually use wine for our communion but more of a juice that looks like wine, and we take a hunk of bread and take little pinches off of it. They thought the fact that we don't use wine was hilarious, and I'm still hearing them tell people about it to this day.
Lunch at my nonna's house consisted of all the people under the age of 30 being outsourced to a smaller table, along with my Aunt Roberta (who is amazing). We basically got the seconds of all the food, which didn't take away from it's quality at all. We spent the rest of the night doing random tasks, I watched my brothers play soccer for a while (I couldn't participate because I chose to wear a stupid dress that day), sat with my grandmother for a while and talked, and we all ended up watching some National Geographic show about anteaters and their evolution (I don't know either).
To top off our Christmas Day, we went over to my great grandmother's for about an hour and a half to have tea, ran home to change, then went to the movies in the city center. We saw an American movie called "The Secret Dreams of Walter Mitty", but it was all in Italian, so I technically saw "I Sogni Segretti di Walter Mitty". It was a particularly beautiful film with Ben Stiller, and the best part is I actually understood 95% of it!
The next day (getting sick of this yet?) we celebrated Christmas at my uncle's house with my 3 cousins. More food of course was provided. We played Sicilian Cards and Tombola, the Italian version of bingo that's actually easier to win yet more frustrating to play! And of course, Fifa was played. Fifa is my religion. Or maybe Juventus (the strongest and #1 soccer team in Italy from Turin) is my religion. One of those two. I also made the first huge sexual innuendo while trying to speak Italian while asking how to say "goalie".
"What's the man with the big, long, white thing called?"
MINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIAMINCHIA.
I fell into the couch and laughed profusely after that one. *sings* OHHHHH THE PERKS OF BEING AN EXCHANGE STUDENT....
The night was filled with me at home with only Gianluca and his friend, so I kindly quarantined myself in my room and Skyped with some friends.
THAT SWISS KID
Okay. If you are Italian and took offense or now think I am a foulmouthed, uncultured coglione because of the title of this post, it's not actually my fault. It's a quote from the Swiss boy my host family hosted last year named Hektor. It's one of the best exchange student quotes of all time. I'm not explaining it though.
Anyways, he actually came back to visit for almost a week. He arrived early on the 27th and of course I slept in too late to meet him as soon as he arrived, so I caught him during the small party that was thrown by his friends in the morning at 10ish. Also the time when a third package from America arrived, filled with 2 pounds of peanut butter, 2 pounds of Hershey's chocolate (to share with friends), a bag of Goldfish, and cards from my cousins and church friends. It made me so happy. (Note: the two pound jar of Jif is still unpenetrated. I'm waiting for the proper moment to break out the bad boy because I don't know if I will be able to stop after I start).
The day was spent with too much GTA5, watching 6 boys play soccer in the parking lot under our apartment because I was too afraid of dying to play (if you think American soccer is intense you haven't seen squat), a walk around the city center with my brothers, Hektor, and our friend Fabrizio, and at the end of the day, Mattia, Hektor and I went over to our neighbors house to play cards. I learned very quickly a basic rundown of poker, but I couldn't play without continuously showing my cards to the others....whaaaat do I doooo?
The next day, Hektor's volunteer from last year, Gabriele came to our house and picked Mattia, Hektor and I up to take a little 2 hour trip to Acicastello, a small town about 15 minutes north of Catania. Acicastello is on the sea side with a little marina and a whole bunch of rock formations in the water. From a sign on the side of the wall, it says that the rocks were formed by underwater volcanoes, which is easily visible if you look at the walk. We climbed them, which was only a little bit life-risking, and then went home. At home was already my cousins (the same ones from the day of the sexual innuendo), my aunts, and my nonno and my nonna. There were again 14 people at our table, just like Christmas. We had 2 different types of pasta, 2 different types of meat, and so much dessert that I don't even know how many types. Somehow, I ended up hauling my laptop out of my room because my aunt was really intrigued in what my house looked like and what my town looked like, so did the magic google earth routine again. I love it when people are so fascinated by a couple of townhouses and a few fields. Everything is special to someone else. Like I said in a previous entry, it only sucks because you make it that way yourself.
The day was spent with too much GTA5, watching 6 boys play soccer in the parking lot under our apartment because I was too afraid of dying to play (if you think American soccer is intense you haven't seen squat), a walk around the city center with my brothers, Hektor, and our friend Fabrizio, and at the end of the day, Mattia, Hektor and I went over to our neighbors house to play cards. I learned very quickly a basic rundown of poker, but I couldn't play without continuously showing my cards to the others....whaaaat do I doooo?
The next day, Hektor's volunteer from last year, Gabriele came to our house and picked Mattia, Hektor and I up to take a little 2 hour trip to Acicastello, a small town about 15 minutes north of Catania. Acicastello is on the sea side with a little marina and a whole bunch of rock formations in the water. From a sign on the side of the wall, it says that the rocks were formed by underwater volcanoes, which is easily visible if you look at the walk. We climbed them, which was only a little bit life-risking, and then went home. At home was already my cousins (the same ones from the day of the sexual innuendo), my aunts, and my nonno and my nonna. There were again 14 people at our table, just like Christmas. We had 2 different types of pasta, 2 different types of meat, and so much dessert that I don't even know how many types. Somehow, I ended up hauling my laptop out of my room because my aunt was really intrigued in what my house looked like and what my town looked like, so did the magic google earth routine again. I love it when people are so fascinated by a couple of townhouses and a few fields. Everything is special to someone else. Like I said in a previous entry, it only sucks because you make it that way yourself.
Since this entry is ungodly long and there's still MORE to go, plus blogger is being a lil crap and isn't loading any of my pictures, I will have to just combine the rest into a different entry. Sorry but that's the truth. Maybe it's blogger screaming "THIS ENTRY IS ALREADY TOO LONG KARA PEOPLE DON'T WANT TO MAKE THEIR EYES BLEED". So, until I can get the time and motivation to make another equally long entry of my life.
Ci vediamo a presto!
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
13 lessons.
This is just a quick post to ring in the new year.
BRRRRRRINGRINGRINGRINGRINGRING
Just a tacky joke to taint this New Year's and we still have quite a few hours. I'm sorry my humor is just going farther and farther down the tubes lately.
So I was thinking, since I am a rather good list-maker, I will make a list. But the thing is, I have made so many lists on this blog that I can't do anything cliche'. So here's one that I hope isn't ridiculously unoriginal, and enjoy it like the fact it's still socially acceptable to overeat EVERYTHING.
This is a list of lessons I've learned in 2013.
BRRRRRRINGRINGRINGRINGRINGRING
Just a tacky joke to taint this New Year's and we still have quite a few hours. I'm sorry my humor is just going farther and farther down the tubes lately.
So I was thinking, since I am a rather good list-maker, I will make a list. But the thing is, I have made so many lists on this blog that I can't do anything cliche'. So here's one that I hope isn't ridiculously unoriginal, and enjoy it like the fact it's still socially acceptable to overeat EVERYTHING.
This is a list of lessons I've learned in 2013.
- You're never alone, even though you may feel that way. This year was a year. With my grandmother dying, my life altering (in a good way) in a single parent household, and moving across the Atlantic Ocean for 10 months, I've gained a lot of independence. The independence to make my own decisions, the independence to follow my heart and dreams, the independence to be self sufficient and tend to my own needs... but this independence also comes with the independence of handling your problems alone. The independence of being lost. The independence of misunderstanding, language barriers, isolation, and fears. The first 2 weeks of exchange were the loneliest and hardest days of my life. No way to access my friends or family. No one that understood or even knew exactly how I was feeling. Literally I only had one way to run. I was on an island, and I honestly was alone. But, the other kids in my chapter could easily tell I was unhappy (I'm talking to you, Marie) and helped me so much in choosing to leave and fix my abroad life. Within 2 days, I was the happiest little clam on the planet. No matter where you are, what you are struggling with, and how much you honestly think you're alone, you aren't. You're just not looking hard enough.
- When you hit your lowest point, the only way you can go is up. It's almost common sense but it's a given fact that when we think we are at our lowest, we focus on the fact that that's where we are, and not that the only possible way it can change is by getting better. Food for thought.
- Nothing has to be broke in order for you to fix it. If something can be better, take it upon yourself to fix it. If it works, nothing will be handed to you on a platter to make it better. The saying 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' is total bull. There's always room for improvement. My life wasn't broke, it just wasn't moving anywhere as fast as I'd have liked it. So, I fixed it.
- The world is as good as you make it. If you whine 24/7, you will be miserable. And vice versa. I don't have much to say because I already have preached on here numerous times about it.
- Forgiving isn't equal to forgetting. I am the type of person to hold grudges, and as much as I know it isn't a good thing to do, I do it anyways. Hell, I think I may have some grudges from elementary school. I don't know why I keep a hold of these things for so long. So, one of my new years resolutions (ugh blargle blargle resolutions ew) is to be more forgiving. Not necessarily meaning I will forget the things, but to make peace with them.
- Realizing that you are wrong is more important than being right. You may be the smartest, most important person on this planet, but if you screw something up and the only way you try and fix it is by shifting blames and making it worse than it should be by trying to make yourself right, it isn't worth it. It's cowardly. It's stupid. And most of all, it's wrong.
- Love is patient....Love is kind...it does not boast.... Love is one of the few things in life that I agree with for the fact that you have to wait for it to happen yourself. Love one another, and not by having a dependence on them. Basically, if you aren't living to make the other person happy, you aren't supposed to be with them. Blah blah blah sappy love story.
- The world is huge, but distance is little. Even though I was slapped in the face of how detailed and indescribably unique every little part of the world is, distance will forever and always mean next to nothing. Not being able to see your family, live in a style 100% comfortable, sleep in your own bed, etc. does suck. But you're able to return to that. The world is a big place, and your home will always be home. But don't let the fact that the world is big scare you from exploring it. Distance is smaller than it seems. Technically, it's only a metaphorically small world, Disney.
- Someone always is in a worse situation than you. Short and sweet, this one. Just look where you are, and be thankful!
- Keep calm and carry on. Sometimes, if you let your life play out like it naturally would, it's for the better. You become more relaxed, you become more free-spirited, and life just becomes better.
- Underneath all the languages, all the culture differences, and all the diversities, we are all human. Even though we are in fact, a part of the animal kingdom and are part of all that food chain stuff, we aren't like any other animals. We are the most complex species to ever walk the face of this earth. Around the world we are so different in the way we live, our diets, our morals, literally everything that separates us from being a monkey. But underneath all of that stuff is a wonderful thing. We are all human. We all fail, make mistakes, have to learn, have to make friends, we fall in love, we have our hearts broken, we get homesick, we lose the ones we love, we break, we repair, we grow, we live. Mahatma Gandhi was the same species as Adolf Hitler. Eli Manning is the same species as Marilyn Monroe. Justin Bieber is the same species as George Washington. You are the same species as all of those people you read about in the books for all of those years in school, anyone you've ever seen in a movie, and every single person you've ever seen in your whole entire life. When you strip it completely to the minimum, we are all the same. We are born, we live, we die. Our skeletons are all equal. We are human.
- Don't waste time. Because......YOLO.
- And last but not least....
"It doesn't matter if it's heads or tails, you're still a penny richer."
-Trouble, my elder buddy in Nashville for the last day of our missions trip.
It doesn't matter if an experience kills you or builds you up. It doesn't matter if you win or lose. It doesn't matter if you fail or succeed. All that matters is the experience you gain from it. This literally applies to so much of my life in the past year that I can't even put into words how much it sums up my year into 1 sentence. Thank you, Trouble. When you told me that, on that long stroll in the hot June sun, pointing to that penny, forcing me to pick it up, I kind of took it up as a joke. But, as I sit on my bed 13,000 kilometers away from everything that raised me, and I look back on it, I can't thank you enough. And that's why, I brought it with me.
That, my friends, is a dirty, old penny from 1999 that is probably next to worthless to any of you, but means almost the world to me.
I nearly ran out of time for this one, but it's still pretty early in America so I guess that doesn't matter to you lot! Sorry Australia, New Zealand, and the eastern seaboard of Asia. I missed ya. I hope you all have a great new year, I can't believe one of the most eventful years of my life is already coming to a close. So, for 2013, ciao ragazzi. Ci vediamo dopo.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
An Exchange Carol: looking into the minds and memories of past, present, and future exchange students.
Ciao ragazzi!
This post is from an idea my host mom gave me while having a conversation on our scooter driving through town. She asked me about my blog, and what it was all about. Then she asked if I could write about other people, and the answer to that was "of course". So, the idea that came from her idea was this.
An Exchange Carol.
A hundred and some years ago some dude with some paper and a pen by the name of Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol, probably one of the most famous books ever to be written. In fact, I was just in a book store today and found a copy of it in Italian. I digress, this blog entry is inspired by him as well. Here lies three segments of this post that I will take you through tonight (or this morning depending on what time zone you are in): the ghost of exchange's past, the ghost of exchange's present, and the ghost of exchange's future. Now, from studying Dickens last year in my freshman English class I know what honestly happened in A Christmas Carol and I can assure you that there will be no rattling of chains of past co-workers, small crippled children who will make your heart cry, or greedy old men in this version. Andiamo.
1. Ghost of Exchange's Past
My first interviewee of this entry is my host brother, Mattia. In early December he returned from a trimester study with AFS in Belgium.
The hardest part was the first few days of school at lunch, when my classmates weren't my friends yet. No one ever really told me where to go or what to do for lunch, so the first few days I ate alone because...I just didn't know what else to do.
My monkey for this branch of our journey through the mind of an exchange student is from the United States, studying abroad in Italy. No, it's not me (for once). It's one of my closest friends here on Sicily, Anthony Devier from Illinois. He is studying with AFS in a town called Agrigento on the other side of Sicily. To paint a little picture he kind of looks like this
3. Ghost of Exchange's Future
For the final ghost of our exchange carol, the ghost of exchange's future, I am using a boy from Italy, Simone, who is hoping to study abroad for an annual program in a currently undecided location, and a girl from my area of Pennsylvania, Joi, who is hoping to study abroad in Italy next year. Joi is trying for the same scholarship as I am on, the Speedwell Scholarship. Currently I am cheering her on and I hope that she will be able to have the same, life-changing experience I am in the midst of in the 2014-2015 school year. Both of these two sound so undecided because it is still really early for students to be cleared by AFS, have paperwork in, have a host family, etc. So we're working with what we have for the sake of getting this done in time for it being a Christmas special entry!
There you have it, folks. I wish you all a Buon Natale e un capodanno meraviglioso, e probabilmente, ci vediamo a 2014!
Buon Natale a tutti, e a tutti una buona notte.
This post is from an idea my host mom gave me while having a conversation on our scooter driving through town. She asked me about my blog, and what it was all about. Then she asked if I could write about other people, and the answer to that was "of course". So, the idea that came from her idea was this.
An Exchange Carol.
A hundred and some years ago some dude with some paper and a pen by the name of Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol, probably one of the most famous books ever to be written. In fact, I was just in a book store today and found a copy of it in Italian. I digress, this blog entry is inspired by him as well. Here lies three segments of this post that I will take you through tonight (or this morning depending on what time zone you are in): the ghost of exchange's past, the ghost of exchange's present, and the ghost of exchange's future. Now, from studying Dickens last year in my freshman English class I know what honestly happened in A Christmas Carol and I can assure you that there will be no rattling of chains of past co-workers, small crippled children who will make your heart cry, or greedy old men in this version. Andiamo.
1. Ghost of Exchange's Past
My first interviewee of this entry is my host brother, Mattia. In early December he returned from a trimester study with AFS in Belgium.
- What was the best moment of your exchange? Why?
- What was the hardest part of your exchange?
The hardest part was the first few days of school at lunch, when my classmates weren't my friends yet. No one ever really told me where to go or what to do for lunch, so the first few days I ate alone because...I just didn't know what else to do.
- Do you or did you have regrets about anything in your exchange?
- Why did you go abroad in the first place?
- Describe the feeling of coming home after exchange.
- Do you think you have changed because of going abroad?
- Are you staying involved with your ogranization/AFS? How?
- What is the most valuable thing you learned during your exchange year?
- Are you still in contact with your host family and friends?
- How hard was it to pick up the language, and how much did you know before you came?
- Do you have any advice for future or present exchange students?
My monkey for this branch of our journey through the mind of an exchange student is from the United States, studying abroad in Italy. No, it's not me (for once). It's one of my closest friends here on Sicily, Anthony Devier from Illinois. He is studying with AFS in a town called Agrigento on the other side of Sicily. To paint a little picture he kind of looks like this
- Why did you choose to go abroad?
- What is the hardest thing you have encountered yet?
- How's the language and how much did you know before coming?
- Describe the feeling of stepping off of the plane and into your host country.
- What is living with another family like?
- What is the best thing about being an exchange student?
- Do you have any regrets about exchange?
- Have you battled homesickness?
- What were you the most excited for before you came?
- What surprised you about your country? Do you still look at your host country the same way you did as before you came?
- What is the most valuable thing you've learned (so far)?
3. Ghost of Exchange's Future
For the final ghost of our exchange carol, the ghost of exchange's future, I am using a boy from Italy, Simone, who is hoping to study abroad for an annual program in a currently undecided location, and a girl from my area of Pennsylvania, Joi, who is hoping to study abroad in Italy next year. Joi is trying for the same scholarship as I am on, the Speedwell Scholarship. Currently I am cheering her on and I hope that she will be able to have the same, life-changing experience I am in the midst of in the 2014-2015 school year. Both of these two sound so undecided because it is still really early for students to be cleared by AFS, have paperwork in, have a host family, etc. So we're working with what we have for the sake of getting this done in time for it being a Christmas special entry!
- What are you scared for?
- What excites you about exchange?
- Are you learning/do you speak the language of your host country?
Since I still have 10 countries in my selection (when Italians go abroad they have to pick 10 countries they want to go to, in the US I only chose three. His are Japan, Hong Kong, Netherlands, South Africa, Denmark, China (boarding school), Argentina, Brazil, United States, and Sweden), it's nearly impossible to learn a language. I know the basic fundamentals of Japanese and Portuguese but that's about it. (Note: he speaks English already which covers for the US and South Africa) -Simone
- Do you think you know a lot about your host country?
- What do you think is the most important thing to do while preparing for a trip abroad?
- Describe the feeling you have when you think about going abroad.
There you have it, folks. I wish you all a Buon Natale e un capodanno meraviglioso, e probabilmente, ci vediamo a 2014!
Buon Natale a tutti, e a tutti una buona notte.
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