I Got The Call

Grocery shopping is no joke. Especially when you are by yourself in a foreign country. Sure there is a bundle of delicous food for the taking, but its just not the same. As I had already gone up and down every isle looking for the deli that would sell some chicken fingers (they just do not exist here) I stopped at the yogurt section.

As I am away from home, it is a little more difficult to eat healthy. I consume less vegetables not necessarily because I don't like them but rather because I don't know how to properly cook them. (I know what your saying, you just grab some asparagus and thrown them in the oven. But what about the flavor aspect?) I figured getting some yogurt could provide an easy breakfast that would be healthy and tasty. As I started to reach for the stracietella (a delicous flavor in Italy that is more or less like choclate chip ice cream) I began to feel my hip vibrate...

I got the phone out of the holster and saw that Marcello, my director was calling. Could this be it? Could he have found a new place for me to live? I felt like I was a B level actor who's agent was to bring him good news. As soon as I said 'hello?' I put down my shopping sack/crate, (what the hell do you call those things? Not the cart obviously, but the other one that has the straps like a purse and is more portable. Do they even have a name? Sheeesh!) and then I closed my eyes. Not necessarily because I was praying to the G-Man upstairs or anything but rather because it is dreadfully hard to talk on the phone and pay attention in the grocery store.

Right off the bat Marcello told me he had 'good news'. There were two beds available in two different apartments in the dorms I originally wanted to live in. He told me I should go check them out that same night and decide if I wanted to switch. Following the convo, I put all my food back (only eggs and tortillas at this point. I can be rather indecisve when it comes to food) and headed straight to the new dorms.

The porter was very nice and called the apartments and informed them, in italian, that 'an american student is here to see the apartment and maybe he will move in'. Oh come on bro. That just doesn't sound good. These guys probably don't want another suite mate. Especially an American one. Gosh, I was already minus 1 without even showing my face. Its ok though. Ill make it work.

After the porter told me to go to apartments 20 and 22, I was giddy. I was getting the words ready in my head to say without messing up. First impressions are KEY. And with roomates? From a different country?FUGGETABOUIT!

I knoced on the first door (apartment 22) and was greeted by a rather short guy with glasses and dirty blonde hair. I said 'Ciao' and introduced myself. I said I was from California, blah blah blah. He told me he was from Lecce, the same town in the south of Italy that I spent 3 weeks in before now. Fantastic. We now have a foundation to work from. As I recalled where I stayed and some of the landmarks, he began to smile and seemed proud. (Italians are EXTREMELY proud of where they are from. Wheter it be Rome, Milan, Lecce, or Bari. They love home)

This guys name was Ivan, pronounced E-vahn. He gave me a tour of the apartment and I was pumped. As you enter, there is a little lounge spot on the left with two couches and a TV to accompany it. On your right is the kitchen area with a fridge and stove and oven. As you walk straight there is a bedroom on your right with two beds in it as well as a bedroom on your left with two beds in it. Also, at the end of the hall lies a single which is across from the bathroom. I absolutely loved it.

As I began to converse with Ivan more, I noticed that his Italian was a litte different than I was used to. Then I remembered. Some people from the south have a different dialect and, to foreigners, are more challenging to understand. As he began speaking real fast and for longer amounts of time, I had to perfectly time my smiles and nods so I didn't look like an idiot. I had to pretend I understood him and did so by strategically timing my word-less reactions. As the conversation began to dwindle, I said 'thanks' to Ivan and went to check out the other apartment. But do I even need to? I was so sold on this one I almost didn't even go to 22.

But I did.

Once I stepped into apartment 22, I knew this spot was something. The TV was on and was showing a basketball game between the Italian national team and Slovenia. My eyes then darted upward to a massive stereo system that, upon first glance, could have put Best Buy's finest to shame. I was greeted by two young men: Antonio and Domenico. They, too, were from the South and after I told them which towns I had visited they grew excited. I dropped the California bomb and everything was cool. (for the record I be getting MAJOR points for this one. Oh California. Specially with the females. Wooo, gotta love it. Imagine saying I'm from Nebraska...)

I said 'grazie' and called my director and said I want to move. Lets do this. I went straight back to my dorm room and began packing. I threw everything into my suitcases and was thinking about what I was going to tell G-Sep. Do I say the room is too small? Do I tell him the truth? That I fear for my life when you uncessary blow your nose every morning?

Ehh, Ill figure it out later.

For now, I gotta pack.