Please forgive me for not posting for a while, you see the truth of it is ... I can't very well call myself 'Helen-in-Italia' at the moment as I am not in Italia any more. I'm in the UK. Bristol, to be precise. *sigh*. It gives me much shame and sadness to relate this sorry tale, but it goes like this:

( Read more... )

Thank you, dear friends, for taking the time to read my journal during the weeks I was in Italy, and for buoying me up with your messages of support and love, they really were so appreciated by me. I hope to reward your good faith in me in the future with something less disappointing to report. 'Til then, arrivederci, miei amici.

OH. MY. GOD. Feeling a little jittery and excitable but - I have an apartment! I really do. I'm staying. I mean, I'm still going home to the UK on Saturday, but I am coming back. I'm going to be living in this crazy city, at least for a few more months. And tomorrow I have an interview at Mel's school, The Byron, which is rather exclusive, prestigious even, dontchaknow. OH. MY. GOD. *deep breaths* *deep breaths*
( Read more... )
A domani, cari, devo andare a pagare il padrone.

More pix for your delectation! Just follow the link on my profile page. As promised, pictures of my friends *sniff* Now I'm only left with Jonathon and Katie, though.

So - at Mel's suggestion, made an 'offer' on that apartment I saw yesterday (was it only yesterday?) of €500. Seeing somwhere else tomorrow afternoon, which, like yesterday's place is not actually available 'til Tuesday 1st. This means, I've got some 'dead time' between apartments, as I have to be out of Cesano by Saturday. So ... have booked flight home for Saturday. *waves to Mum* Yes, that means I'll be arriving at Bristol International Friday evening - lookin' forward to some good home cookin'!

If have somewhere to go for the 1st, then the trip home will just be a short one, a chance to pick up a lap-top and some decent clothes (have completely failed in exhaustive mission to find affordable, nice clothes here). If I have found nowhere to stay in Rome, then I guess the trip home will be a longer one; I can use it to apply for teaching jobs in the UK and abroad. I already have my eye on a few possibilities ...

So, in the immortal words of Doris Day:Que sera, sera. Which, I believe, is actually Spanish rather than Italian, but what the hey, it's all much of a muchness.
x

Yes! I moved out of the cat-shit hell-hole! Have left that stinky place behind forever! And with it, I have left behind a huge cloud of gloom which had been gathering over my head for the past two weeks or so. I had no idea how much that awful place was impinging on my psyche and how much my dismal experience there was colouring my whole trip until I left it yesterday and felt my mood instantly lifted. I was excited and happy, really happy, for the first time in too long.

Katie came round yesterday to help me move my stuff across town to the school-owned house in Cesano, a small town on the outermost limits of Rome (how they can call it Rome, I've no idea, the train ride takes you through a vast expanse of open Lazian countryside and it's a good half-hour journey). She smelt the old apartment. She actually said she felt sorry for me having to endure that stink for four weeks. Then I felt sorry for myself: sorry that I'd spent four weeks trying to remind myself that it'd be over soon, and that I could cope with a little privation, and the loneliness wasn't anything worse than I'd coped with before. And arriving in Cesano yesterday, I realised the experience I should have been having all that time: there, in a nice, comfortable house - with heating! - with English-speaking friends, all doing the same course as me, good people whom I would have had fun with, in a quaint, genteel and pretty little suburb (okay, it is dominated by the military base, but we can ignore that)...yes, it was out-of-town, yes the commute was long and annoying and yes the last train home left at 9.30, but I realise now I would have been considerably happier. But...nothing to be done now. Can't turn back the clock.

Anyway, I'm there for a week, with Katie for company all that time and Mason 'til Tuesday, and by next Saturday, I shall either be winging my way home, or settling into new accommodation. And where'm I gonna start looking? Well, I thought I'd want to be in the thick of it, in the bustling, vibrant, noisy, filthy, brilliant city. That's where I've been concentrating my (fruitless) efforts so far. But now, having travelled out to Cesano, I'm inclined to look on the outskirts of town, maybe further up the railway tracks, towards Viterbo, where the pace of life is a little gentler, and the people friendlier, English less often spoken (that'd really test the powers of my linguistic skills!) and the countryside so charming and Italian - the Italy I had dreamed of experiencing.

Just to confound things though, there's a job in Devon that I'd seriously love to make mine. Starts September. Won't say any more as I don't wanna jinx it.

Ah, well, it'll all become clearer before the end of the week!

Oh, and by the way, I did get a Distinction. The only one on my course to do so, hee hee. Yes, I do feel smug!
x
P:S: More photos soon, of Cesano, of Mason and Katie and Jonathan, and of St Peter's Basilica.

Yay! I sorted out photos on my lj!

How do you see them? Go to 'Profile' at the top of the page, then from there, just below my biog, I think, there is a link to my photos. Follow and, er, enjoy, if you like. And, yes, there is one of me (I was on my own that day, so I had to stalk English-speaking tourists for help with that one).

I hope to add more tomorrow, too, as I went to St Peter's Basilica this afternoon, got some pretty pics which even Delph, with her artist's eye, might approve of. Let me know what you think of these. (BTW, I have a Nikon Coolpix camera, nothing flash, case you're wondering).

So, that was a friggin' waste of time. Nice apartment, quite doable, I think, even with the no-men restrictions, but not available 'til June. No bloody use then. I need to have somewhere to go for the first of May. And San Giovanni was not 'pretty' as I had been led to believe. It was exactly the same as all the other suburbs of Rome: filthy, the streets strewn with litter and dogshit and bits of cars where they've crashed into each other (a common occurrence, I warn you), every goddam wall of every apartment block daubed with stupid, pointless graffitti.

Then had to wait what seemed like an eternity for a bus. I swear, if there is a hell, it is a bus stop; a bus stop where you must wait all eternity for a bus to arrive, and then when it does, it is completely jammed with people, they are hanging out the windows and clinging to the doors; and then you have to decide whether you want to let it pass and spend another eternity waiting, or climb aboard and spend the entire journey rammed against the door with your face squashed against somebody's shoulder and in dangerous proximity to someone else's armpit.

On the plus side, I'm walking a lot more these days. So, I'm a lot fitter. :)

Anyway, I have an exam tomorrow, so I must go home and study some more. Spent the afternoon revising in the Villa Borghese gardens, which were quite pretty (again, except for the reams of litter and excrement and graffitti...I don't understand why these things can't be taken care of). Around the park there are lots of mounted marble busts of famous Italians. Fortunately, only a few have been vandalised - noses hacked off, Hitler moustaches drawn on, sono un coglione written across poor Galileo's forehead (I think it means 'I am a pig', but I don't have my dictionary with me, you get the - moronic - idea anyway), that sort of thing. Found (actually was drawn to by some inexplicable force...) the bust of the poet Leopardi, a depressive young man (he had a scoliosis which gave him a hunchback, I believe, and died young) who wrote lengthy exhultations to the game of football. Yes, football. Il Calcio. I know this as I'm reading Tim Parks's 'A Season with Verona' at the moment. And I don't even like football, never watched more than a few minutes of a football game in my life. Parks makes it seem exciting though. As did Leopardi in his day.

No, I gotta go. This post turned into something completely different to what I intended. Comments on buses and football are most welcome.
x

ETA:I checked it up in a dictionary - coglione means 'testicle'! Can you believe some philistine engraved that into Galileo's forehead? Tchah!

Okay, got a little freaked out by a strange, anonymous response to one of my entries, but it drew to my attention that some of my entries are a little reckless for a public forum ... I mean, it only occurred to me last night that all my flist use pseudonyms when talking about their family and friends on their lj: Gabby's husband is 'The Admiral', Dogstar gives her boyfriend several different monikers depending on her mood ... and I've *cringe* used everybody's real names. I know, I know! Or at least, I know now. This is risky to the point of stupidity. As well as perhaps being a little unfair, and we wouldn't want that. No. We would not.

So, I'm locking some of the more 'sensitive' entries. What this means is that those of you who are not lj users (Delph, Jus, Sigs, Mum, Caitie etc...) won't even see these entries when you visit the site. However, if they're are ones that I think you'd really enjoy, I'll just mail them to you through the usual channels.

Flist, feel free to flame me for my heinous stupidity. I feel shame.

An addendum to my last posts: Friday was indeed a lot friendlier. All cool again. Went out with (mostly) everyone that evening and our Thursday blow-out was all forgiven and forgotten. Thank goodness! - I couldn't have coped with hanging onto those feelings for much longer. It's much easier to put it down to bad day (which it probably was) and move on. Had fun and got to know each other a lot better ... a shame really that we didn't manage to do this earlier, as we've less than a week now before we all head our separate ways. Katie's sticking around, as is Jonathan, and Erin lives here already of course, but that's it, from our entire group.

Am looking at a room tomorrow. Sounds nice enough, in a pretty area I believe, but I am strictly not allowed any male guests, at any time or under any circumstances. So, I won't even be able to bring a friend in for a cup of tea. This may sound unreasonable, but is not an unusual condition for a landlady to apply (especially if she lives on the premises, which is also fairly common), so if the place seems otherwise pleasant enough, I guess I'll be taking it. Beggars can't be choosers and all that. And after all, it's not as if I even have anyone to try and sneak back into my room anyway!

I've also managed to buy myself some precious apartment-hunting time by arranging to stay at the school-owned apartment in Cesano for a week with Katie (from Wisonsin), whose room is not going to be available until the 1st. Cesano will mean a nuisance of a commute every day in order to get into Rome (about 90 minutes) but is cheap and comfortable and also enables me to help Katie out, as there's no way she'd be able to stay on there if it was just her on her own; with the two of us, we can cover the rent of the three-room apartment and it'd still be cheaper than staying in a hotel - or worse, a hostel - for that week.
Helen x

So I had a date with Daniele. Good looking guy - I thought he was, to quote my earlier entry 'hawt'. I also thought he was a gentleman. He was not. In fact, it turned out he fitted all the worst stereotypes that everybody warns you about Italian men, and that I, in my naivety, did not believe were true. Well, I'm a normal, generous, open-minded and intelligent woman - stereotypes don't exist for me. That sounds so extraordinarily foolish now. Unfortunately, I have learned my lesson the hard way - through bitter experience - which, according to my language tutors, is the only sure-fire way to learn, but I'd dearly settle for not having had that experience and building my learning on book-study instead. Dear, oh dear, I'm having a very Hermione-week (except for that mock grammar test we had which I completely scewed up; Hermione would never have done that.)

So, I shan't be exchanging numbers with Italian men again. Does rather put a dampener on things and also does beg the question - when are you going home, Helen?

Cats stink. I mean - they really honk. I've never known cats to stink like the ones I have to live with - maybe it is just *these* cats, or maybe just Siamese cats - but it's an enduring impression that is unlikely to be erased - ever. I will never live with cats again.

Even though I'm extra vigilant with the door now to ensure the little buggers can't sneak in and leave me any more disgusting little 'gifts', I swear my room still reeks of them. It hits you the moment you walk in the front door to the flat - a wall of air, laden with the most overpowering and revolting stench. I thought maybe it was their food at first, but now I'm inclined to think it is just them, their arses, their breath, their glands, their skin - whatever. And it seaps through the walls, the floors, the doors, into the bedclothes, the wardrobe, the towels, the linen. It makes me want to gack. Sometimes, I'll be in my room and I'll get a sudden waft of it, and then I'll start frantically searching my room for evidence that they've paid it another visit, but there's nothing there. And so I'm left to assume that one of them must have just walked past my bedroom door. That's the only logical conclusion. Imagine cats that stinky! And so there is nothing to be done but to wrinkle my nose and remind myself I'll be gone from this flithy place in two weeks.

Such a long time in between posts, I'm sorry. May manage a few today, to cover all the subjects I'm bursting to share with you. This week has been very tough work-wise. There have been tears; there has been the kind of complete mental and physical exhaustion I have not experienced in a very long while; and my confidence, in a professional and a personal sense, has suffered some shattering blows.

Phoned Justine (best mate, lives in London) last night. On my mobile. Used up all my 20Euros credit, but it was worth every centesimo. I'd spent the early evening trying in vain to catch up on some of my lost sleep, so that I could be in a fit state to go out with my course-mates that night. Course, soon as I heard her voice I started crying. But it was so good to speak to her, to listen to her soothing words of wisdom and encouragement. Didn't go out in the end after all, which was another source of anguish (the red-rimmed bloodshot eyes and sad complexion of my mind kinda made it unlikely anyhow, but it was being stuck for phone credit that made it impossible in the event).

Have to make some decisions about what I want to do when I get kicked out of my accommodation in less than two weeks time. Do I stay? Do I rent an apartment? Do I sink more money into this venture? Do I look for a job? Do I even want to work as an English language teacher? Do I want to put myself through this living some place where I barely speak the langauge? Do I take a little travelling tour instead? Or have I had my fill of Italy, now?

I need to make a decision, to stay or to go, one way or the other, but I'm so up and down. Some days I feel that maybe I could love living in this city, and in this country, that I could love all the differences, all the vagaries and inconsistencies, the impregnable language barrier, the weird food in the supermarkets; others, I feel like screaming to get out of here, to get the first flight back to the UK - don't care where in the UK, even bloody Scotland would do! - I would claw my way onto that plane by fair means or foul - let anyone try and stop me!

Urgh! I dunno. This week is crunch-time, really. I can't stave off the decision-making any longer. I shan't be using this public computer to book my flights today anyhow, but tomorrow I think I'll be using the school one to do so. I feel like I just want to go home and get a job in a British school again. British kids, in my own, dear language...I felt like that before I came here, in fact, but I was hopeful that I might change my mind, that my experiences here would change my mind for me. And sometimes it feels like they have. And then I swing back in the other direction again. I'll let you know the developments as they evolve this week.

Helen x

Just a short one, I think, as I am heading for the Colosseum today, and I only popped in to check my bank accounts, but I just wanted to make an addendum to yesterday's update: I keep meeting men! And I'm not stupid, I know that most of the time they're firing off many arrows in the hope that one will hit the mark, but it does make things so much fun! And funny, too. Especially as, most of my course colleagues are stationed out of town, in a place to which the last train leaves at 9pm, and all of them have visited Rome before so don't want to do again all the touristy things which I am desperate to do.

( Read more... )

What else? Oh yeah, forgot to say that my first lesson went well last week, according to my tutor. This week, I am scheduled to teach three times, and I've got a lot of observations to make too, so I expect I shall be very busy with school. But that's fine with me. Long as I have my weekends to have explore the city and have adventures, I'll be happy.

And I've so much to tell you about my course colleagues! But that'll have to wait til next time as I gotta make it to the Colosseum and the Palatine today. Did Foro Romano yesterday. Next week, the Vatican.
As usual, this is longer than I intended.

Molti Abracci, cari (That might be wrong - it's meant to be 'many hugs, dear ones'. Can anyone correct me?)
Helen x

I'm definitely a dog-person, I've never doubted that or felt my loyalties split, but this week I received a sharp reminder why I prefer dogs to cats. My landlady (la mia padrone) is very insistent that I keep my bedroom door shut at all times, even closing it for me if she discovers it slightly ajar (whilst I'm in my room...yeah, I know, does make me feel kinda crappy...), her explanation being that the cats are curiosi and if they see the open door, they'll come in. Wasn't exactly clear why this was to be discouraged, but I have since found out...

...Some of you may be able to guess where this story is going...

( Read more... )

My Italian is still shamefully crap (sorry, Domenico), but have discovered it improves with a glass of wine. I should just get a little tipsy every morning and that'd sought me out, I reckon. Perfect example of my crapness is, even with a basic holiday-italian phrase like due biglietti per l'autobus da un euro, I'll go and do something stupid to mess it up like add 'please' at the end, instead of per favore. Oh, the shame!*shakes head in dismay*

Hey, I got hit on whilst I was typing this in the internet cafe, hee hee! That's twice today, but on both occasions the language barrier was embarrassingly solid, though the guy a few minutes ago was quite nice looking...in a silver fox kinda way!

Hey, I did promise 'more later', but then my credit ran out, and it's taken me a couple of days to find my way back here. But here I am, on unlimited internet credit now - yay! So, what I needed to add to that last report was that the weekend was not totally bleak and lonely, though of course it had its moments ;)

( Read more... )

As usual, loads more to tell - about my new course-mates, and the tutors in particular - but that'll have to wait for now. In a few days, I'll have more of a handle on 'em anyway, so what I have to say will be more meaningful. And possibly more mean, ha ha!

Thank you so much to everyone who's got in touch over the last few days - your messages of support were much appreciated, believe me; they in no small way contributed to the 'mood lifting' I experienced the other evening. Grazie mille, cari

Okay so, I'm here, using a keyboard that's a little different to the ones I'm used to, so please excuse any punctuation mistakes in this update (the spelling I will take responsibility for, though).

( Read more... )
Hmmm...there are other things to tell, so many, but I think I may be running out of time on this terminal, so I'm gonna have to cut things short. Ugh! More later
Helen x

After some panic and a lot of flapping and indecision, for which I feel some embarrassment, I've finally sorted my accommodation with TEFL International. Yay!

( Read more... )

And this time next week, I'm going to be settling in for my first night there - in Rome!

First entry...testing, testing, one, two...

Hum ti tum... less than two weeks to go... Not exactly having panic attacks, but definitely experiencing a slight tightening of the chest whenever I think about it. Not Rome really, not Italy even (though I keep thinking about things I'm going to be homesick for, as if I'm never coming back), but, if I'm honest, the *course*.

I fully expect the competitive Hermione-ish instincts to take over when we get into class (I'll be the one with all the sharp questions, and all the answers to the teachers' questions, and annoying all my classmates intensely) but right now, the thought of teaching English...? I feel distinctly apathetic about it. Bored, almost. I got some books out of the library on EFL teaching, in January. Have acquired hefty fine on them but as yet I have not even bothered to open one of them. Actually, not quite true. I used one to send me off to sleep a few weeks ago, and it didn't tell me anything I didn't know, which was probably why it proved such an effective soporific.

*Sigh* Doesn't bode well, does it? Should I be worried? I really don't know. Am resolved to not thinking too deeply about it all right now. And returning those books.

Will be focusing instead, I think, on planning travelling adventures to do *after* the course has finished. Like, shall I go North? Or South? I think I fancy the North...Siena and then Florence, perhaps...
x