I will admit, I very much dislike the idea of doing comparisons and contrasts between countries, especially in such a way to say that "America is great!!!11", or anything really to that effect (for those who do not understand, please go watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16K6m3Ua2nw ). So, it has been with tongue in cheek that I made a comment last night of "You know, in America we eat zucchini in cookies."
To explain, let me reiterate that there are three children in this family: one girl age 10, and two boys, ages 5 and 3. Dinner is the only meal that the family eats altogether, and this is often later in the evening. The mother of the family is the one who cooks, because the father doesn't get home 'til around 7. The mother is doing her best to cook meals that are both full of flavor and healthy, but at the very sight of vegetables, the children start throwing tantrums that they don't want to eat vegetables; they just want pasta. Now, if I were the parent I would just sent the children to bed without supper, because I'm mean like that, and I honestly believe in the saying "You get what you get and you don't have a fit". This happened last night. Mom had made a soup with rice and vegetables, and the middle child saw a piece of zucchini floating in his dish when everyone sat down to eat. Cue temper tantrum of not wanting zucchini and rice, he just wanted to eat pasta. After about five minutes of this, I got his attention and told him my comment. Both the parents looked at me and said "Really?", to which I explained that yes, I did actually eat zucchini in cookies. My father had a recipe for "green worm cookies" that he made when I was a child, and because of that I have always liked zucchini. They expressed interest in seeing this recipe, so after dinner last night I emailed my parents to ask for that recipe and possibly a couple more that I could also incorporate carrots into, since the eldest doesn't seem to like carrots. My parents came through and sent me the recipes, which I got this morning. Now I get to have the fun game of converting imperial units into metric units, then I will make the cookies for the childrens' snack next week (who said chemistry taught me nothing? My plan is to use that cross canceling thing of doom we learned in 121. Yay practical applications?).
I started Italian lessons yesterday (Tuesday) at the YWCA, of all places. It seems like it will work out nicely for me, though. When I was looking at classes online in Torino, the prices ran in the few hundred euros per class (which I do not have the money to pay. Now, granted, I'm slightly confused. When I told the mother that this class was only 15 euros instead of the few hundred, she said that it wouldn't matter because the classes they had wanted to send me to were free anyway because Italian schools are free. I think that's true for Italian students, but for people of other countries I'm not so sure...). I am still going to use the wonderful tool that is Google to augment my studies, because I would like to be able to communicate effectively with the people here instead of feeling like a fool.
I also managed to luck out. During my first week here I met another au pair, and on Tuesday we went to this Italian class together, where we met up with 4 other girls who also work as au pairs (I'm more or less the odd one out. They went through a specific agency, so they were given contact information of other au pairs...), and after our class we all went out for lunch. They all seem really nice, and it's nice to know that there is a group of us who can get together and share experiences (though the other 4 live in Torino proper, not Rivalta). ^^
So, 20 euros a week. It's a tight budget, but I think I can make it work. I found that 5 tickets for the transit cost 6.50 euros, so I have enough to last me for tomorrow and next week.. I probably won't explore Torino too much right now, but once I find out how much memory cards are and get one, I might make a couple trips into the city to do some exploring. I want to be able to take the photos with me when I get back... ^^;;
Now, entertaining story time. The guy I met in Gare de Lyon (the one who witnessed the crime) and I met for coffee on Saturday. During this time, he explained that he was "falling for me" and wanted to start dating me. I'm going to lay this out right now: I decided back in August that I want to spend the next year or so single so I can figure out what it is I want before I add another person's wants, needs, and neuroses into the mix (my own problems are more than enough for me right now, thanks). After he told me this, I tried my best to explain that I was not looking for a relationship at this time, and while I was flattered by his feelings, I did not believe that I would be able to return them, and I did not want to lead him on. I might as well have been talking to a brick wall. He said I should not be so hasty in my decision making process, and that I should take some time to think of my feelings for him. He would give me two days to make my decision. I told him that two days would not be enough time, I would need somewhere closer to two weeks to think things over, which seemed outrageous to him. We parted ways a little while after that, and then he started sending me text messages saying verbosely that he cared. I tried to explain--again--that while I was flattered, I did not think it would happen, to which I got the response of "Baby, don't be so hasty". (Please excuse me while I go into a rant. I will italicize for those who do not want to read it). Pet names in an established relationship are one thing. Me calling someone "sugar" or "hun" is another. I'm not trying to lay claim to them, and I hope that I have not offended anyone by calling them a nickname at one time or another. But calling me "sweetie" and "baby" after me explaining that I don't want a relationship and I don't want to lead another person on makes me want to record a mosquito's buzz and put it on a playback device ON REPEAT, then hide strategic speakers throughout the person's room that has the noise jumping from one speaker to another at random intervals, but only whenever this person goes to bed. I am not a piece of meat, and attempting to "woo" me with pet names will not win any brownie points. In fact, you'll lose so many brownie points that you may never get back up into the positive realm again. I have a nickname you can use if you don't want to use my full name, and something like "hun" from a friend doesn't bother me. But unless I'm in an exclusive romantic relationship with you, don't call me pet names.... >.< . I ended up ignoring his calls for the next couple of days because I did not want to say something incredibly mean. After the 4th missed call he sent a text asking why I was ignoring him. I made the honest reply that he was calling at inconvenient times for me, and that I will not drop everything to answer the phone. I haven't heard from him since. I'm kind of hoping it stays that way.
Today is the first time I get to pick the children up by myself. I promised the eldest we would go to the "big park" today if she ate half of her soup, and since she ate all of it, we're going to the big park. I went and looked around the park this morning and saw that there was a metal bar about 6 feet off the ground. It can hold my weight, so I have added another fitness goal: by the time I leave Italy, I want to be able to do 3 pull-ups on that thing.
The mail system in Italy is rather entertaining. I was told that if I accepted a package while the parents were at work, I would have to tell the post-person "Io vivo qui" (I live here), otherwise they would not leave a package with me. So far today I have only had to use that once out of the two times there has been a package delivery. The second time the postman just had me sign and thanked me.... I was wearing my 2009 choir tour shirt that has "OSU Womens Choir" quite prominently on the front, and I am far paler than most Italians... Oh well, I got the package... Great, now I want to play TF2...
Anyway, I'm going to end this here. I miss you all back in the States, even though I'm having a great time out here. Can we have a dance party when I get home, though? Please?
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Friday, September 21, 2012
Week 1; aka "I need to learn the language..."
Well, it has definitely been an interesting first week so far. Monday I met the boys' teacher (so that they know who I am when I go to pick up the children from school), got into a fight with a bread machine pan (I am in the process of writing the encounter out as a short story. I may post it on my blog, or I may try to send it in. It's rather entertaining...) and had my first impromptu charades match with one set of the childrens' grandparents. Tuesday I went for a short stroll around Rivalta (I can't stay out too long, because the grandparents' tend to bring the three year old boy home from school around 1), was given a cell phone to use that I proceeded to call someone I met in the train station--he witnessed the alleged culprits near me, then saw them throw something away that turned out to be my glasses case--and talked to him for a couple minutes. Apparently he is in Turin now and wants to see me before he leaves. Wednesday I went for another short walk and finished up the majority of my online homework. Thursday I had quite a surprise. I had decided to go look in two of the stores to see if I could find any benzoyl peroxide, since I'm pretty sure the tube I packed was in my ziplock bag of "liquids" that I accidentally dumped into my bathroom supplies and stored. Neither the supermercado (supermarket) or farmacia (pharmacy) had any that was obvious, and I still can't explain my needs in basic Italian, so I left both. Between the the supermercado and the farmacia I came across the family's cleaning lady. She had pulled off the road and was trying to pull something off of what I realized was a hedgehog (tangent: are hedgehogs native to Italy?). Between the two of us, we managed to get the piece of plastic that had gotten wrapped around the poor animal's body off, even though neither of us could really speak to each other. It just goes to show that teamwork does not always need a common language.
On the way to the farmacia, I had found an ATM that I would pass by on my way back. So, on my return trip I stopped and put my card in; going through the motions to get out money. I got all the way to inputting the amount I wanted when the machine said "transaction annulla" and went back to the main screen... Without returning my debit card. After Gare de Lyons, I was not about to let some foreign machine eat my debit card for lunch, I don't care how little of the language I speak. So when pressing the cancel and stop buttons did nothing, I called the number listed. Once I reached a person I asked if they spoke English, and I was given an unhelpful prerecorded message. So I went inside the bank. Luckily there was someone there who I could explain my situation to, and they pulled my card out of the machine from inside the bank once I proffered my ID and proved that the name on my driver's license was identical to the one on the card. While this was happening, another teller was on the phone asking the ATM company why it had done that. According to the ATM, I had input my pin incorrectly. So the teller I was speaking to took me back outside and told me to run through it again. The same thing happened, so we went back inside and he once again retrieved my card. He told me to call Visa and see what the problem was, and I explained that right now I didn't care, I just wanted my card back so I could go home. He said that he didn't usually give back cards that had been confiscated by the machine, but because it was mine he would. So I took my card and went home. This whole situation struck me as weird, because I told the Credit Union that I was going to be in Italy, so having my card locked/not work is not good... Though it does make me have to stay with my decision to only use cash while I'm here...
Have you ever had to deal with a child throwing a temper tantrum? I have only found two foolproof methods to dealing with a tantrum. At best you can distract them with something else 'til they forget what they were crying about in the first place, and at worst you let them wear themselves out 'til they forget why they were crying. But dealing with tantrums with two boys (5 and 3) who don't speak English? That's an entirely new ball game... Even trying to explain in basic Italian where their mother is/why we're leaving the park/why they shouldn't kick their siblings does nothing to alleviate the situation, and bribery is right out of the question. Oh well. If I had gone into this expecting to become one of the childrens' friends I would be more put out than I am. I am here to teach the children, and I can't always be nice.
I will be starting Italian classes in October, hopefully. I had met another au pair while picking up two of the children from school who had told me of an Italian class starting next week, but the email she gave me did not work, and I managed to have the flier she had written her info down on disappear within the span of two hours. I'm just lucky that way.
So far I have not seen anything about ballroom dance or WCS. I did see that there is a studio giving Argentine Tango lessons. I *really* want to check those out. I'm going to see if I can convince the mother to help me find out when those classes are, because taking a tango class would help with the dance fix...
Anyway, time for lunch. Hope you enjoyed reading. Leave me comments if you can so I can answer questions. ^^
On the way to the farmacia, I had found an ATM that I would pass by on my way back. So, on my return trip I stopped and put my card in; going through the motions to get out money. I got all the way to inputting the amount I wanted when the machine said "transaction annulla" and went back to the main screen... Without returning my debit card. After Gare de Lyons, I was not about to let some foreign machine eat my debit card for lunch, I don't care how little of the language I speak. So when pressing the cancel and stop buttons did nothing, I called the number listed. Once I reached a person I asked if they spoke English, and I was given an unhelpful prerecorded message. So I went inside the bank. Luckily there was someone there who I could explain my situation to, and they pulled my card out of the machine from inside the bank once I proffered my ID and proved that the name on my driver's license was identical to the one on the card. While this was happening, another teller was on the phone asking the ATM company why it had done that. According to the ATM, I had input my pin incorrectly. So the teller I was speaking to took me back outside and told me to run through it again. The same thing happened, so we went back inside and he once again retrieved my card. He told me to call Visa and see what the problem was, and I explained that right now I didn't care, I just wanted my card back so I could go home. He said that he didn't usually give back cards that had been confiscated by the machine, but because it was mine he would. So I took my card and went home. This whole situation struck me as weird, because I told the Credit Union that I was going to be in Italy, so having my card locked/not work is not good... Though it does make me have to stay with my decision to only use cash while I'm here...
Have you ever had to deal with a child throwing a temper tantrum? I have only found two foolproof methods to dealing with a tantrum. At best you can distract them with something else 'til they forget what they were crying about in the first place, and at worst you let them wear themselves out 'til they forget why they were crying. But dealing with tantrums with two boys (5 and 3) who don't speak English? That's an entirely new ball game... Even trying to explain in basic Italian where their mother is/why we're leaving the park/why they shouldn't kick their siblings does nothing to alleviate the situation, and bribery is right out of the question. Oh well. If I had gone into this expecting to become one of the childrens' friends I would be more put out than I am. I am here to teach the children, and I can't always be nice.
I will be starting Italian classes in October, hopefully. I had met another au pair while picking up two of the children from school who had told me of an Italian class starting next week, but the email she gave me did not work, and I managed to have the flier she had written her info down on disappear within the span of two hours. I'm just lucky that way.
So far I have not seen anything about ballroom dance or WCS. I did see that there is a studio giving Argentine Tango lessons. I *really* want to check those out. I'm going to see if I can convince the mother to help me find out when those classes are, because taking a tango class would help with the dance fix...
Anyway, time for lunch. Hope you enjoyed reading. Leave me comments if you can so I can answer questions. ^^
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Update
To everyone reading this,
I regret to inform you that I may not be updating as regularly as I had originally intended, and even then, there will most likely not be any pictures. I will give you the rundown, though, if only to understand my predicament.
Friday morning I arrived in London Heathrow and took the Tube instead of a taxi to St. Pancras (sorry, but I'm not spending 80+ pounds sterling for a cab ride). I made it to the station and onto the train about 5 minutes before it left. Upon arriving in Paris, I experienced the wonderful sensation of being rusty enough with a language that I could not communicate effectively as possible. As a result, I missed my original train out of Gare de Lyons (I found out with only 20 minutes to make it there that I needed to take the Paris metro two stops over and take a train from there, rather than from Gare du Nord, where my first train had arrived). I "exchanged" my ticket for one leaving Saturday morning (exchanged being a relative term, because I had to pay 70 Euro extra for my trouble >.<) and with the sudden loss of that extra money (and the realization that I did not have access to internet, phone, or text messaging from my phone), I barely made it to Gare de Lyons, and made the decision to wait the time in the station 'til my train left that next morning. A mistake on my part.
Around 2330 Paris time I made the mistake of falling asleep. I literally could not stay awake anymore. I couldn't have been asleep long, but when I woke up I did not see my backpack (which I had wrapped the strap of that through my purse and through one of the handles of my suitcase) was MIA. Inside my backpack was my laptop, glasses, chargers, outlet converter, cell phone (which was actually cut out of my purse), books to read and use for basic piano lessons, and the black shirt (y'all know the one. The black one cut wonderfully low) and white undershirt that I had planned on wearing to meet the family.
Long story short, with my broken French I managed to report the theft. I received help from a stranger who had not seen the theft itself, but had seen the perpetrators throw something out that turned out to be my glasses case. I filed a report with the Paris Police, and sadly made my way back to the Station where I waited for only two hours (the time at the police station coming closer to 5) for my train. Through luck I managed to get in a car of the train with some very nice people , and made it to Italy with no more unfortunate incidents.
The family is incredibly nice (I'm writing this from their computer), and Italy is gorgeous. They keep asking if I would be willing to stay longer than the original three months (no more than six months total, Katja, je te promets), though while the offer is nice, I'm not sure if I will accept. I need to get other things accomplished too. I will be receiving a cell phone soon that I will mostly use for keeping in contact with the family, but if anyone really wants the number I can give it to them under the promise they use it sparingly.
I love you all, and I felt that you should know what had happened. Hope things are better back in the States.
I regret to inform you that I may not be updating as regularly as I had originally intended, and even then, there will most likely not be any pictures. I will give you the rundown, though, if only to understand my predicament.
Friday morning I arrived in London Heathrow and took the Tube instead of a taxi to St. Pancras (sorry, but I'm not spending 80+ pounds sterling for a cab ride). I made it to the station and onto the train about 5 minutes before it left. Upon arriving in Paris, I experienced the wonderful sensation of being rusty enough with a language that I could not communicate effectively as possible. As a result, I missed my original train out of Gare de Lyons (I found out with only 20 minutes to make it there that I needed to take the Paris metro two stops over and take a train from there, rather than from Gare du Nord, where my first train had arrived). I "exchanged" my ticket for one leaving Saturday morning (exchanged being a relative term, because I had to pay 70 Euro extra for my trouble >.<) and with the sudden loss of that extra money (and the realization that I did not have access to internet, phone, or text messaging from my phone), I barely made it to Gare de Lyons, and made the decision to wait the time in the station 'til my train left that next morning. A mistake on my part.
Around 2330 Paris time I made the mistake of falling asleep. I literally could not stay awake anymore. I couldn't have been asleep long, but when I woke up I did not see my backpack (which I had wrapped the strap of that through my purse and through one of the handles of my suitcase) was MIA. Inside my backpack was my laptop, glasses, chargers, outlet converter, cell phone (which was actually cut out of my purse), books to read and use for basic piano lessons, and the black shirt (y'all know the one. The black one cut wonderfully low) and white undershirt that I had planned on wearing to meet the family.
Long story short, with my broken French I managed to report the theft. I received help from a stranger who had not seen the theft itself, but had seen the perpetrators throw something out that turned out to be my glasses case. I filed a report with the Paris Police, and sadly made my way back to the Station where I waited for only two hours (the time at the police station coming closer to 5) for my train. Through luck I managed to get in a car of the train with some very nice people , and made it to Italy with no more unfortunate incidents.
The family is incredibly nice (I'm writing this from their computer), and Italy is gorgeous. They keep asking if I would be willing to stay longer than the original three months (no more than six months total, Katja, je te promets), though while the offer is nice, I'm not sure if I will accept. I need to get other things accomplished too. I will be receiving a cell phone soon that I will mostly use for keeping in contact with the family, but if anyone really wants the number I can give it to them under the promise they use it sparingly.
I love you all, and I felt that you should know what had happened. Hope things are better back in the States.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
"It's a tunnel; you hold your breath in a tunnel." "I'm not holding my breath under the Channel, thanks."
Well, it's official. In under six hours I will fly out of Portland and start my trip from the US to Italy. I'm only taking three methods of transportation to get there.
Let's see:
-car
-airplane
-car
-train
...at least boat is not part of that list. I don't fancy getting seasick before I meet the family I will be living with and the children I will be taking care of while green and nauseous. Granted, I've never taken an extended train trip before, either. This could either end well or very badly.
I will admit, I spent my final night in Oregon up in Portland dancing with friends. I didn't have enough dancing over the summer (that whole "money" thing. That's going out of style, right?), so getting to end it with a lot of fun dances and spending time with some fantastic people (both Monday and Wednesday) helped solidify that this isn't forever.. Unless I completely fall in love with the country there even more than I've fallen in love with Oregon. In which case, all bets are off.
So, why am I going to Italy, one may ask? I got a job as an au pair (fancy term for a governess, basically) for three months. I will be spending that time helping the children learn English, taking classes in Italian, and exploring the European countryside. If the family likes me, we may see what needs to be done to either get me to stay longer or go back in such a way that I can continue visiting Italy afterwards.
Hopefully I can find some ballroom or West Coast Swing dancing while I'm there. Granted, the town the family lives in is close to the border with France, and day trips aren't that expensive. So, if any of you have an idea on where to go looking for dancing, please let me know! ^^
Anyway, I'm more or less rambling. It's 0223 right now, and the adrenaline is still pumping through my system. It'll be like this 'til I get on the plane. I can sleep then.
Let's see:
-car
-airplane
-car
-train
...at least boat is not part of that list. I don't fancy getting seasick before I meet the family I will be living with and the children I will be taking care of while green and nauseous. Granted, I've never taken an extended train trip before, either. This could either end well or very badly.
I will admit, I spent my final night in Oregon up in Portland dancing with friends. I didn't have enough dancing over the summer (that whole "money" thing. That's going out of style, right?), so getting to end it with a lot of fun dances and spending time with some fantastic people (both Monday and Wednesday) helped solidify that this isn't forever.. Unless I completely fall in love with the country there even more than I've fallen in love with Oregon. In which case, all bets are off.
So, why am I going to Italy, one may ask? I got a job as an au pair (fancy term for a governess, basically) for three months. I will be spending that time helping the children learn English, taking classes in Italian, and exploring the European countryside. If the family likes me, we may see what needs to be done to either get me to stay longer or go back in such a way that I can continue visiting Italy afterwards.
Hopefully I can find some ballroom or West Coast Swing dancing while I'm there. Granted, the town the family lives in is close to the border with France, and day trips aren't that expensive. So, if any of you have an idea on where to go looking for dancing, please let me know! ^^
Anyway, I'm more or less rambling. It's 0223 right now, and the adrenaline is still pumping through my system. It'll be like this 'til I get on the plane. I can sleep then.
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