It's Time For The Ruby Slippers

We have reached it. The day before. Less than 24 hours until I'm back home. (Not exactly actually, I am spending one night in New York because I couldn't get a flight back to California until the following day but still)

As I look back on my 4 and 1/2 month adventure through Italy, several things stand out. As it would be insane to right all of them down, I shall just choose a few and give a brief summary.

THE SOUTH

My trip started in the South of Italy in a town called Lecce. It was around 100 degrees almost every day and I took one grammar course. The rest of the time was spent at beaches, eating gellato, sweating profusely, and recounting the past 6 years of my life with the people I just met. The two major restaurants I went to served, in total, over 15 courses which left me 1)gasping for air and 2) thinking everything else back in the States was uncivilized. The three weeks went by crazy fast and right after I took a trip with a friend to some Italian cities.

CENTRAL

The trip began in the city of Rome. Between seeing most of the historical sites (there is always something you missed), going to a soccer game in an 80,000 capacity stadium built for the Olymics, and just realizing I was in Rome, it was great. However, the heat was unbearable, and my hostel was worse than the trash can Oscar the Grouch lives in. After getting sick from the 3 Irish people and swimming laps in own sweat while I slept on the floor (yeah, it was that bad), I was ready to move on. Next was Siena. A small town in Tuscany with a lot less tourists than Rome. No place better to be when wanting to relax and take some deep breaths. After that was Pisa. The Leaning Tower is everything it is advertised to be. The longer you stare at it the more you think it is going to fall. You throw the fact that I slept in two train stations throughout these 4 days and all in all, it was a success.

Bologna

Housing

Now I'm where I'm supposed to be. Where I will be studying. Living. And finding my pizza spot and preferred grocery store. Although my original housing assignment started off super-duper wack, I was placed in an apartment style dorm where I should have been all along. Two of the original four guys have since moved out (bureaucratic reasons) but it's still cool. We have had numerous dinner parties. I have played one on one soccer in the hallway for an hour (I won in penalty kicks). We have had actually parties. Watched soccer games on TV accompanied by constant screaming and two of the guy's moms have came and cooked home made meals. The list is endless.

Food

Before I set foot in the country, I knew the food was going to be great. But, I didn't know that I would have all these meat and cheese options. The pizza was a sure thing and the pasta was, too. But I never really thought that the M&C could be that different. Boy Howdy. Having the cooking class was probably the best thing out here as the teacher really knows what she is doing and she hooks me up. As far as pizza, me and my girl Robin go to this one place AT LEAST once a week. They give slices that are better suited for Paul Bunyan at a crazy price. Yesterday was her last time there (she isn't coming back second semester) and mine till February. We were treated to lots of first. The workers, usually grumpy and scowling, let me come around the barrier and take pictures. Then, another guy gave the first 'buongiorno' which was a total shock. (for the record, he couldn't have looked more pissed when he said it but he still gets credit) Then to top it all off, the guy who was literally making the pizza had part of his crack showing. Gotta love it. There is of course great restaurants but I won't even lie: I have not been as adventurous as I should be. Next semester I hope to hit up more spots. I just find my comfort zone and stick to it. What can I say?

The Other Cities

The two weeks traveling was truly great. To go to these amazing cities that I had always heard of but never imagined going to, was special. Florence, with the beautiful art and delicious food. Michaelangelo's David is more impressive than anything I've ever seen. Venice with its architectural set up and overall uniqueness. And Lake Como as just the most relaxing and beautiful place you'll ever see. (The food in Venice was mediocre at best in contrast to Lake Como where I had the best meal of entire life)


As I could go on and on, I will stop here. Before I finish packing, there are 15 observations that Mr. Spectacular would like to make before he boards the plane:

-The South of Italy is very different than the North of Italy
-Gellato lives up to the hype
-Folks are crazier for soccer than I initially thought
-Clothes, especially shoes, are unbelievable
-Words such as "I'm not trippn" and "You feel me?" or "Ya digg?" don't translate well
-It is not looked down upon for guys to use a hairdryer
-Or spend more time in the bathroom than girls for that matter
-Pasta is more common than breathing
-Hospitality is more wide spread here than in the South of America
-Sweatpants don't exist
-Tabasco sauce is not popular
-Ralph Nader is popular (Just kidding)
-Everyone wants to go to New York
-The words 'flamboyant' and 'gaudy' mean nothing
-People are really, really good looking. Really

Well folks, that'll do it. It is my job to make a reservation at this pizzeria tonight for THIRTEEN people. Truth be told, I only wanted about 7 or 8 people there so we'll see how it plays out. It's going to feel good to be back home. Burgers with BBQ sauce, Tropicana orange juice, bacon, carnitas...

Mom, let's stock up that fridge. Your boy is coming home!

Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200

Every now and then I think about childhood. The good ol days or GOLDS as I like to call them. The sleep overs at friends' houses, the staying up late to watch a t.v show, and, perhaps most fun of all, the boardgames.

Everyone had their favorites. And with those favorites came categories. You had your standards that everyone knew such as connect 4 (my man Max G. is a killer) and candy land. Then their were the straight nerds who would always talk about D&D or Dungeons and Dragons. And of course, the pompass brats who only played Trivial Pursuit because everything else was 'below them'.

That all being said, I think it is safe to say that everyone, no matter how rich, spoiled, insecure, or stupid, knows the big Kahuna of them all: Monopoly. Granted some people might only be familiar with Monopoly through McDonald's game.

I haven't had the luxury of playing Monopoly in a long time. It is a game where you need at least 3 people (4 is so much better) and one then requires some time. In a day and age where we feel we are unproductive if not doing at least 4 things at a time, its hard to sit down and play a board game. However, last night I had the pleasure, no the honor, of playing Monopoly with some folks and really taking them to school.

After my girl Robin and I got our pastries at a local bakery, we were asked to join our fellow roommates in a friendly game of Monopoly. We accepted the offer even though I was a bit weary. I did not know if their style or rules were different. As you may or may not know, the rules of Monopoly vary from every family member to every U.S. state. (For example, Special Rule # 12 states: all the money from luxury tax or any other penalty goes under the 'Free Parking' spot. If someone lands on that spot, they get the money)

As I looked at the board itself to check out the names of the avenues and railroads I quickly noticed something was off. WAY OFF. There was no money around. None in the box, none in the hands of my competitors. I asked what the hell was going on and was told this was the modern version which meant everyone got 'credit cards' as opposed to money. There was even a little ATM type machine where you stick the card in following money transactions. Needless to say, I was shocked.

Once the game began, it became clear that the motive for everyone was to buy any and everything you land on. Whats that? Atlantic Avenue? Yeah I'll buy it. What's that? A pile of used diapers? Yeah, I'll buy it. As Robin and I were a team we decided we would just follow their lead and buy everything as well. After a few rolls, Robin and I were on the verge on getting a Monopoly. I told Robin to roll a 9 and sure enough, she did. We put some houses on those bad boys and we were ready to roll.

At this point in the game, we were the only ones with a monopoly. One of the other players, my housemate who is from Kosovo, was in bad shape. He only had 2 properties and was low on money. He was constantly sighing. This other guy named Ernesto was in the same boat. He had a few more properties than the first guy but, he too, was not happy. Part of the Italian rules is that you can buy properties from each other. All you do is just negotiate the price. Once Robin and I were really starting to dip into their pockets (we had 3 houses for each avenue we had in the monopoly) I decided to negotiate with this one girl. She was low on money and was in a desperate situation.

Robin told me we shouldn't buy the avenue from her because it would make the other two guys mad. I said F that and went ahead with the negotiating. After about 3 minutes, she caved. At this point, we had acquired our second monopoly. Not only that, this second monopoly was right before our first. We had an angle of the board. There was no way around our real estate. And what's more, we then went ahead and got three houses for each one of the avenues we just bought. Same to say from there on out, it was game over.

Once the two pouty guys noticed our angle of monopolies, they were furious. One even said, in Italian: F*CK THIS! and he threw his cards (of properties) onto the board and got up. His girlfriend, either out of being embarrassed or just wanting him to keep playing, began talking to him but to no avail. This dude was pissed. They were going back and forth arguing for about 4 minutes straight. Robin and I just looked at each other. I would have been counting my money in my hands rubbing it in his face but all I had was a credit card. But it still was sweet.

She eventually convinced him to stay in the game. However, shortly after this meltdown, the game would end anyway. As the Kosovo guy was approaching my territory, he became angry. In my opinion, he would not have blown up had he rolled a number that would have avoided my territory. Once he saw the numbers on each of the dice, he blew up. He said it was unfair and what is he to do. This lit the fire under Ernesto who continued with the argument that its no fun this way and its stupid to play like this. As soon as the Kosovo guy put his piece on one of the properties and saw how much he had to pay, s*it the fan. Ernesto decided it was time to end the game and once again through the cards on the table. The Kosovo guy did so as well. My boy Luigi said in Italian "I think Ari and Robin win". A Grinch like grin came across my face at this point.

As we all got ready for bed (it was past 1:30) I listened for a little while as Ernesto, the guy from Kosovo (his name is Fejsal, pronounced Phase-all. That's what I didn't mention it till now. You wouldn't be able to pronounce it), and Ernesto's girlfriend were still arguing over the game.

I thought to myself it is a beautiful thing when you win a game but other people are fighting over it. Like always, the aftermath of the monopoly game is always problematic. For me it was going to sleep wishing all the money I just made was real.

One day soon, it will be.

SHOWTIME-There Is No Tomorrow

The following is the second part of a two part article by Frank Taters that will appear in next month's edition of "Figure It Out Later" Magazine.

As I descended the stairs to the theater, I heard several people speaking. It seemed to be more English than Italian. I looked around and there were several other American students, presumably part of the same program as Ari and those in the show. As it was 8:25 I quickly made my way to grab a seat. I would have liked to get there at 8:00 but that gellato is no joke.


There was a good size audience and there was some buzz being generated. Everyone was excited to see their friends on stage and I must admit, I was too. The director/professor of the class went on stage and gave brief introduction of the plays that lasted about five minutes. Then, the lights went out and we began...


The first play was about the three men who were after the father. As there was only one male in the class, two females played the male roles. I was patiently waiting for the arrival of Ari and after 6 minutes he appeared. The curtains were pulled back and there he was in a black cape. It was full length and quite impressive. Ari stood for a second like Batman on a skyscraper and then revealed himself. The three women on stage were quite frightened and after a few lines, ran away. He stood on stage by himself and then gave a brief monologue. Although brief, the solo performance was good and the laughs came at the right time. The rest of the play went very well and nobody, as far as I can tell, messed up the lines.


The second play was the Venetian one and began with 5 women on stage who looked like Jehovah's Witnesses. Midway through the play, the actors on stage changed with those sitting in the front row. Ari switched with a girl and was given a black hat, a bag of lottery tickets and money. I had no idea what was going on in this play because of the dialect. After the women backed out the gambling at the last minute, Ari packed up his briefcase and came into the audience. He asked an audience member to give him a hand with the briefcase and gave money to another. He then yelled to everyone in the audience and asked: who wanted to go with him and place some bets on some roosters. Again, the students had all their lines in order and there were no (obvious) problems.

The third and final play was somewhat different than the previous two in that there was always several people on stage and after every 10 lines or so, everyone on stage would scream "Prima o Poi La Amore arriva" (Before or after love comes)

The highlight BY FAR was when Ari was on stage in the second act. A girl started screaming for help because there was someone in the ocean who couldn't swim and she was drowning. As if he was one of the boys in Stand By Me with the leeches on his body, he ripped off his clothes in about 3.7 seconds. The only thing he was left wearing was long black socks and hot pink boxer briefs. Nothing else. He jumped off stage and ran to the back of the audience. Next thing you know, he is carrying this girl who he just saved from drowning. At this point, the audience was yelling and cameras were flashing. After he stood on stage with his hands on his hips like a super hero the others said their lines and completed the scene. He then gathered up his pile of clothes and went backstage. There were some more comical lines and entertaining gestures throughout the remainder of the play but everyone's mind was on the pink underwear.

Once the students took their final bow and ascended into the crowd to mingle I asked Ari if the underwear act was part of the play "No. Not at all. Today was the first time I did it. When in Italy right?" Yes indeed, when in Italy. Except, I got the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time he would do something like this.

As more group pictures were taken and people congratulated the students on their performance I asked Ari how everyone pulled it together.

"I don't know how everyone did it. Somehow they got it together.To be honest I just focused on one thing the whole time since day one"

"What one thing was that?"

"Just have fun"

Between wearing a black cape and being a vampire, a hustler from Venice, and stripping down to hot pink underwear, I think it is safe to say that we all had fun.

SHOWTIME- The Countdown To The Big One

The following is an article written by Frank Taters and will appear in next month's edition of "Figure It Out Later" Magazine.

For me, Christmas came early this year. Heading into last weekend I had nothing to write about for next month's magazine. The only thing I was working with was a farmer from Tuscany who had one eye and had never heard of the internet. As I was getting ready to go home for the weekend, my boss approached me and asked if I would be interested in doing a piece on an upcoming theater show in Italian but done by American students. It was a topic I had never done before. One that could bring in some new readers and give me an opportunity to use my English.

I contacted the director of the program of these American students and he told me that I should email a young man by the name of Ari King. I was told that he was the only male in the class and that I could probably get the most out of my article through him. Ari emailed me back almost immediately and told me I could come over to his apartment on Tuesday and shadow him until the show began that night.

I rang the doorbell of Ari's house on Tuesday and before I even thought about ringing it a second time, the door flew open. Ari greeted me with a handshake and welcomed me in. He quickly offered me a beverage but I declined. "You sure? I got water, orange juice, tropical fruit juice, Coke, wine, Rum, Sangria"

He then showed me his apartment which is inhabited by 4 other guys. I asked to see his bedroom to get a feel for who he is and what kind of things he likes to do. Several newspaper clippings were cut and taped up on his walls. Shelves that normally hold books but, for Ari, now held shoes. Posters of his favorite basketball team" the 'Golden State Warriors', 'The Sopranos', a map of Florence, and of a Coca-Cola wrapper with Santa Claus on it all grazed the walls.

At this point in the day after asking him various questions from his hometown, to his school, to his hobbies, it was time to go to the last rehearsal. As we took the bus to the theater I asked him to explain the plays and what I was to expect. "Well, I don't know whether you should expect that much" he said. "We are doing three short plays. The first is about these three guys who are trying to convince three daughters to let them talk to their rich father. The second is a play in Venetian dialect that is about a hustler trying to get people to place bets. And last is a poem that I don't really know what exactly is going on"

The look on Ari's face appeared to be that of worry. It seemed that it was lacking confidence. He didn't know whether or not he and his classmates would be able to pull it together and do these three plays. The last couple of rehearsals had been filled with long pauses and massive stutters. "Hopefully" Ari said while taking a deep breath, "we'll be alright"

We got off the bus at the main Piazza and walked a short way to the theater for rehearsal. I sat in the audience as Ari and the other students went through their plays. There was some serious miscommunication and missed-lines. The play in the Venetian dialect appeared to be proving the most difficult. The words and pronunciation is starkly different to the normal Italian language.

After 2 hours of rehearsal and 'do-overs' the class was dismissed and the only thing left to do was come back tonight at 8 and get ready for the 8:30 show. Ari and his friend Robin, a girl from Ft. Lauderdale, went to a nearby supermarket to get some lunch. I asked Ari how he was feeling about the show and he replied: "Not too much you can do at this point. I know my lines so I'm okay. I'm about to get this wild boar salami, some cheese, bread, and Ritz crackers and have a great, relaxing lunch."

That seemed to be a hint that there should be no more discussion of the plays. At this point, after about 3 months of practicing, there was nothing last to do. Tonight was it. I told Ari I would see him after the show and in the meantime I would wonder around the city of Bologna until it was time to go back to the theater to see the finale.

The Holdout

Having five college guys living in one apartment can spell trouble in lots of ways. Dirty laundry, food left out, dishes not washed, etc. I have tried to beat this stereotype of the college male ever since I arrived for freshman year in college but in order to shed this title, everyone needs to be in on it.

Fortunately, Italians are rather clean and neat and that does indeed translate to the college life. (Complete opposite of the jackasses I lived with my sophomore year) We compiled a list that has one person clean the bathroom and kitchen every weekend. Everyone pitches in and the place is relatively clean.

HOWEVER, there is one thing has been lacking as of late...

I would say there is a select list of basic things one needs while living. Some of the items are up for debate depending on the person but the list includes, but is not limited to: refrigerator, bed/futon/couch, windows, running water. The undercover items range from potatoe peeler to alarm clock to washer machine. But, in my opinion, one thing is not up for debate: toilet paper.

You NEED toilet paper. No doubt about it. Everyone uses it. Everyone needs it. If you are feeling otherwise I would kindly ask you to stop reading my blog. In addition, I am revoking our friendship.

When I arrived at this apartment there was a big pile of TP and until about a month ago we didn't to buy a new one. As we were dwindling down I took the initiative and went out and bought some. As we were approaching the last roll last week, I had a feeling nobody was going to step up to the plate. So, what did I do? I ripped off some of the TP and stored it away. "Use in case of Emergency"

I just noticed that someone has put the paper towels in the bathroom and that appears to be the substitute as of now. I have no plans on using it and I plan on telling the guys and that using it will probably result in damage.

I wonder how long this will go. I don't if the guys don't want to spend the money, or they keep forgetting to go to the store or what. All I know is I bought it last and I got my secret stash so I'M COOL.

You can maybe get by without using parmesan cheese on your pasta, or ketchup on your burger but you can't get around the TP. Now, might be saying to yourself that I'm stubborn or hardheaded. "Just go buy some!" Why should I though? I bought it last. I have my stash. Plus I'm curious to see how it plays out. Its kind of like an experiment. I'm just sitting back. Chilln.

Anybody want to place bets on how long it will take?

It's a Shame

Before coming to Italy, I knew my classes were going to be fairly different than my one's back in the States. The classes were going to be bigger and, of course, they were going to be taught in Italian. What I didn't know is that the American students would display a great lack of respect in those classes.

My program offers a select number of classes to all the American students that is taught at a slower pace than those through the University. The professors speak slower and there is a more of an emphasis on making sure everyone understands. Obviously it is tough for us to learn in Italian but it also is tough for these Italian professors to teach a handful of American students.

The one and only class I'm taking through my program is a theater class. I had been told that it was extremely fun and I enjoy getting my act on. My professor is about 50 years old, has a beard, and is a RABID smoker. He more or less looks like Ben Falik's father Bill, and also General Raddick from the movie Air Force One with Harrison Ford.

He is a great guy and a great teacher. He chose three short plays for us to perform for our final show and we have been working on them for some time now. I cannot think of too many things I dislike about the class except for how we, the students, treat him and the course.

Students show up late all the time: anywhere from 5 to 45 minutes. As of now, with the big show on Tuesday, it is safe to say that there are MAYBE 3 out of 13 people who know their lines. Our only homework the last month has been to memorize these lines. But barely anyone has done so. (For the record, I know all of my lines. Believe that!) When he starts to criticize people for not studying he gets a surly response and the excuse that 'its hard to study because its in Italian'.

Oh, you're right. It is hard in Italian. Is it also hard to talk in Italian to the guy with the gel'd hair, plucked eyebrows, and a manicure? Is it hard to complain to your roommate in Italian?

People always ask each other why he is picking on them in class. Why does he have to single me out?

My response-"Oh, oh, call on me. I know. I know why. It's because you don't know your lines."

If you ask me, if this class was at one of our universities back home everyone would have their lines down cold. People don't really take this (and maybe others) class seriously. Believe me, I'm here to chill and have a good time but when you got a professor who is devoting his time to snot nose private university American students you gotta show some respect. Normally all these kids are running around freaking out come this time of year. Worrying about finals and how this could exam could affect their future.

To be fair, not everyone is slacking. There are some folks who know their lines (and even the lines of others)

As far as my role on Tuesday, in one play I am a vampire, in another I'm a hustler from Venice, and the third is a giant poem and the highlight is when I save someone from drowning. Yeah, you know I got some surprises in store. Trust me.

There is a high probability there were be more than one person who is going to have to say 'line' when on stage on Tuesday night. But maybe everyone will get their s*it together and come through come Tuesday night.

Maybe not