"Life is a funny ride with different people along the way".
- Christine Wong (a friend from Edmonton)
Saturday, December 22, 2007
A Week Before Christmas
From last Friday to this past one, my first semester at the Politecnico di Milano closed with a resparked interest in the concept of “Strategic Design”, and the program I’m enrolled in.
It began with a lecture from an Italian-Canadian who formerly worked in the banking industry as a technology forecaster. He talked about technology parks, business strategy and the importance of matrices in analysis (I’m now convinced they are too). It was great to know that despite all the cynicism and doubts, I could still find some hope.
Friday evening I went to Caffe Carribe, danced, and learned my German friends would be leaving Milan that weekend. It was a bit of shock, because I thought they were staying here for a year as well. I walked home that night, and did a lot of thinking.
That weekend saw my Indonesian classmate leave the program in favour of an alternative program in the Netherlands. As I mentioned, a lot of us have been having doubts about the program, so this was not unexpected.
On the Sunday, I went to a salsa club in the south of Milan that I’d never been to before, for the goodbye party of my German friends. The experience reminded me a lot of my sudden departure from the salsa scene in Shanghai last year, and what my relationships there meant.
...
December 17th, Monday morning, after a skype meeting, and arranging some initial tasks and timelines, I officially started the job I was offered in Shanghai. That day was also the first day that I officially entered into the globalized business world- working in Milan for a company in Shanghai.
In the evening, some classmates organized a Christmas party. Although I went, my mind was still at work. A lot that would need to be done before the new year.
I arrived home earlier than my roommates and went straight to work. We all slept very late that night, waking up the one Lativan roommates who hadn’t come to the party. As a consequence, the next day, the relationship between the Latvian and my Chilean roommate changed, probably for good. The Latvian resorted to securing his own things (including the speakers which we all had used), and buying more furniture for ‘his’ space. The Chilean decided that day that it was probably best that he leave in the new year. I think that was also the first day that I called him “the drama king”. Ah, the crazy life of student residencies.
Wednesday through Friday were school days filled with theories, matrices and decreasing student attendence. Call me one of the geeks in the class, but I found more reasons to attend and at least try to pay attention, no matter how easy it was to fall asleep.
Thursday evening some of us went for Aperitivo (free food in select restaurants, a tradition in Milan) to celebrate a classmate’s birthday. Friday evening I went for salsa one last time before Christmas. Two of my roommates joined, which really changed the mood for me, but it was nice to show them that side of my life.
Today I spent the day eating out and Chirstmas shopping with one of the secretaries from my department. A really talented Chinese girl, who has lived in Milan for 8 years, but doesn’t like Italy, and speaks 7 languages. Crazy! She won’t be back next semester, but I’m getting used to this.
Tomorrow, it’s off to Germany to celebrate Christmas with my godfather and his family. My first Christmas away from home…
It began with a lecture from an Italian-Canadian who formerly worked in the banking industry as a technology forecaster. He talked about technology parks, business strategy and the importance of matrices in analysis (I’m now convinced they are too). It was great to know that despite all the cynicism and doubts, I could still find some hope.
Friday evening I went to Caffe Carribe, danced, and learned my German friends would be leaving Milan that weekend. It was a bit of shock, because I thought they were staying here for a year as well. I walked home that night, and did a lot of thinking.
That weekend saw my Indonesian classmate leave the program in favour of an alternative program in the Netherlands. As I mentioned, a lot of us have been having doubts about the program, so this was not unexpected.
On the Sunday, I went to a salsa club in the south of Milan that I’d never been to before, for the goodbye party of my German friends. The experience reminded me a lot of my sudden departure from the salsa scene in Shanghai last year, and what my relationships there meant.
...
December 17th, Monday morning, after a skype meeting, and arranging some initial tasks and timelines, I officially started the job I was offered in Shanghai. That day was also the first day that I officially entered into the globalized business world- working in Milan for a company in Shanghai.
In the evening, some classmates organized a Christmas party. Although I went, my mind was still at work. A lot that would need to be done before the new year.
I arrived home earlier than my roommates and went straight to work. We all slept very late that night, waking up the one Lativan roommates who hadn’t come to the party. As a consequence, the next day, the relationship between the Latvian and my Chilean roommate changed, probably for good. The Latvian resorted to securing his own things (including the speakers which we all had used), and buying more furniture for ‘his’ space. The Chilean decided that day that it was probably best that he leave in the new year. I think that was also the first day that I called him “the drama king”. Ah, the crazy life of student residencies.
Wednesday through Friday were school days filled with theories, matrices and decreasing student attendence. Call me one of the geeks in the class, but I found more reasons to attend and at least try to pay attention, no matter how easy it was to fall asleep.
Thursday evening some of us went for Aperitivo (free food in select restaurants, a tradition in Milan) to celebrate a classmate’s birthday. Friday evening I went for salsa one last time before Christmas. Two of my roommates joined, which really changed the mood for me, but it was nice to show them that side of my life.
Today I spent the day eating out and Chirstmas shopping with one of the secretaries from my department. A really talented Chinese girl, who has lived in Milan for 8 years, but doesn’t like Italy, and speaks 7 languages. Crazy! She won’t be back next semester, but I’m getting used to this.
Tomorrow, it’s off to Germany to celebrate Christmas with my godfather and his family. My first Christmas away from home…
Thursday, December 13, 2007
isn't fair...
"World-class success requires that you grow up emotionally and come to terms with the fact that life isn't fair and success isn't free."
- Steve Siebold
- Steve Siebold
Informal Lessons and Plans
Last week’s Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were largely dedicated to my group’s first major project. Lots of research, ideas, discussion, debate and emotions. I’d say my major role was that of secretary and facilitator. A role I felt I had to take on almost by default. It brought back memories of my old days at APIRG.
Our group presented our concept along with the other three groups in the class that Thursday. There were many things about our group dynamics that really opened my eyes to a lot of issues that I never took much notice of before. I think I gained a new appreciation for management, and an understanding of why English teachers are in such demand world-wide.
Over lunch, I had a great discussion about relationships with the same Indian classmate/cousin/temporary roommate as before, that echoed my sentiments that I had when I wrote my last posting for my The Road Not Taken blog. The most memorable line he said was (pretty close to an exact quote): "Make sure the relationships you put your efforts into are clear. Because if they are not clear, your whole world will be screwed up." What a cousin.
That evening I also had some sense knocked into me by my Chilean roommate in a passionate speech about social expectations and money. I don’t really have a quote of his, but the general idea was that I don’t take these two things seriously enough. To use some of his words, I’m “like an animal” (refering to my tendency to eat just about anything) and should be more concerned about being remembered as the guy who eats like one. I think this was the first time I saw myself this way. What a roommate.
Friday was a holiday in Milan. St. Ambrogio day. All my roommates left the city for Naples and Riga (Latvia), leaving me alone, with the apartment to myself. I couldn’t stand the thought of staying home the entire weekend because of a lack of funds. So, I did the only logically thing: rely on credit. A thing that I feel I’ve been doing too much here, but the best way I think I could have managed. It’s times like this that I both love and hate “the system”.
I met my newfound German friends from salsa that afternoon. We had coffee and then explored the old castle market (where only tourists apparently go). I didn’t know this until I met them that day, but they’re part of a larger expate German babysitter community (some more of which we met in the market). It was a really stange discovery for me, which is why I include it here.
Our group presented our concept along with the other three groups in the class that Thursday. There were many things about our group dynamics that really opened my eyes to a lot of issues that I never took much notice of before. I think I gained a new appreciation for management, and an understanding of why English teachers are in such demand world-wide.
Over lunch, I had a great discussion about relationships with the same Indian classmate/cousin/temporary roommate as before, that echoed my sentiments that I had when I wrote my last posting for my The Road Not Taken blog. The most memorable line he said was (pretty close to an exact quote): "Make sure the relationships you put your efforts into are clear. Because if they are not clear, your whole world will be screwed up." What a cousin.
That evening I also had some sense knocked into me by my Chilean roommate in a passionate speech about social expectations and money. I don’t really have a quote of his, but the general idea was that I don’t take these two things seriously enough. To use some of his words, I’m “like an animal” (refering to my tendency to eat just about anything) and should be more concerned about being remembered as the guy who eats like one. I think this was the first time I saw myself this way. What a roommate.
Friday was a holiday in Milan. St. Ambrogio day. All my roommates left the city for Naples and Riga (Latvia), leaving me alone, with the apartment to myself. I couldn’t stand the thought of staying home the entire weekend because of a lack of funds. So, I did the only logically thing: rely on credit. A thing that I feel I’ve been doing too much here, but the best way I think I could have managed. It’s times like this that I both love and hate “the system”.
I met my newfound German friends from salsa that afternoon. We had coffee and then explored the old castle market (where only tourists apparently go). I didn’t know this until I met them that day, but they’re part of a larger expate German babysitter community (some more of which we met in the market). It was a really stange discovery for me, which is why I include it here.
We spent a good hour or so there, then I got lost. Typical. Luckily, I found some of my classmates and stayed with them the rest of the time. All I could really say about that, was food. A lot of food! This is indeed what Italy is known for. I bought roasted chestnuts (which I happen to hate now), and the others got a lot of food from Sicily. Once again, as my junior high french teacher would say, it was “to die for”. In the evening, we went to another classmate’s houseparty, where a bunch of us stayed overnight, dancing a bit of salsa, eating small sandwiches and watching home-made videos.
The next day, I tried to go the salsa congress I mentioned earlier, but gave it up when I realized it would have been too hard to get to in time. And it was probably a good thing that I did.
When I got back to my apartment, the Romanian girl who I met last year in Modena messaged me. After coordinating a trip with a fellow classmate, I made it there the next day.
Being a Sunday in a small Italian town, meant time for church once again. It was cold and raining, so even though there was a market in the central square, the cathedral also seemed a warmer alternative. I met the Romanian girl after the service. She looked different from what I remembered, but it was nevertheless good to see her again. She invited me to her home, where I met her mother and aunt. It was a strangely familiar experience. After a lot of good food, practicing my Italian, and helping to decorate their Christmas tree, I was invited to stay an extra day. I didn’t have a change of clothes with me, but accepted the invitation nevertheless.
The next day, we were visited by my friend’s priest. Naturally, over coffee and later in their church, he told me of the benefits of their religion. It wasn’t done in a demining way, and I didn’t think it was the reason why I was invited to stay an extra day, so I didn’t mind. I even ended up helping to clean their church.
The rest of my time in Modena was spent touring the town, eating and praticing more Italian. Upon, leaving the two of us said we would spend more time together. I really hope so.
On Tuesday, I spent a large part of the day buying things for Christmas, paying off my bus ticket, and cleaning the apartment. In the evening, I went salsa dancing at a place called Tropicana. Although I could only stay for an hour (due to the metro schedule), it was a really nice time.
On Wednesday, I woke up with a very heavy head, that grew into a really bad headache. And to make matters worse, a good portion of the morning class was focused on a discussion about our course. A lot of dissatisfaction on the part of us students. I even took a risk and voiced some of my own concerns. It was nice that our professor, also the director of the program, was open to our opinions. Nevertheless, a lot of doubts remained with us.
On my way back to the apartment, I spoke with a classmate from Brazil and another from Indonesia. They came up with a good metaphor for what we are going through as a group though. It’s like we’re going through military service. We know it’s painful and hard (though not very disciplined), and a lot has to be done on the students’ part to get what we want, but hopefully we are stronger afterwards.
I had a long nap that evening, and woke to the return of my roommates who had gone to Naples.
Today, it was back to normal. Whatever that is.
Monday, December 3, 2007
... what happens to you...
Life is what happens to you
while you're busy making other plans.
- John Lennon (Beautiful Boy lyrics)
while you're busy making other plans.
- John Lennon (Beautiful Boy lyrics)
Two Unpredictable Weeks
Ok, here it goes...
Monday, November 19th, was a day largely of reflection and contemplation for me. I spent the morning getting a few things out of the way before arriving at the library to use the internet. After reading my emails, I spent some time in the park nearby with my thoughts. My conclusion once again, with no further explanation here: life goes on.
I had lunch with my Brazilian classmates, and in the evening I had my first Italian class, half of which were Japanese students.
On Tuesday, a classmate visited our apartment early in the morning to help us with our internet connection, but ended up just having breakfast with us. We spent the rest of the day with my Chilean roommate making our way to IKEA once again to buy some more things. I only bought food. I figured the rest of my furniture could wait.
Wednesday was back to school, and then a surprise meeting of us roommates to talk about eating and buying food. I think that day, the four of us really started to make a commitment to work together. It was a great feeling to know that.
Thursday, I woke up late, but then spent the rest of the day working on a presentation about research on the fur trade in Canada. My Chilean roommate and I stayed up really late that night working on our laptops. It reminded me of my undergraduate years in design, and how much I hated staying up late for our projects. If this really is the life of a designer, I don’t want it.
The next day was a mix of different things. The presentations in the morning went on until 1pm, and the afternoon class was complete write-off as far as formal education goes. I didn’t even know what the “professor” was trying to say (Yes, the “professor”). It was in that period that I re-realized that despite the good efforts and theories of Ezio Manzini, and his close group in academia, this course in strategic design is by and large another do-what-you-want-and-learn-by-yourself-as-long-as-you-repeat-abstract-concepts-and-someone-else-thinks-it’s-important program. I would even go so far as to argue that this is the new credo of the design industry, and why it’s killing the profession, but I won’t now.
Anyway, what saved my sanity that afternoon, was a deep conversation with a fellow classmate next to me about meaning and control. Despite the fact that we were sitting right in the front of the class, and paid no attention to the “professor” (as did most of the class), it was then that I also re-realized the importance of learning from my fellow students. I think this is where I will gain the most from this program.
That evening I went to Caffe Caribe by myself. My Chilean roommate (who ironically doesn’t like salsa) managed to convince the rest of our class (and almost me too) that it wasn’t worth going to. I’m glad I didn’t listen. It was great. A lot like On the Rocks back in Edmonton, and Zapatas in Shanghai. A big space and a tile floor with a lot of people (mostly Italians). I was welcomed in by an older lady from Calabria, and just continued to meet people from then on. Most of the dancers weren’t as good as I expected them to be, but there were of course some really outstanding dancers, and a generally friendly Italian atmosphere (take that to mean: fashion statements, showing off, and a lot of yelling). There was also a performance, and news about the Cavalese salsa congress. Ah! Another congress! I really didn’t expect that. If I can afford to go by then, I’ll be there.
I spent much of the night with two girls from Germany that told me a lot about the salsa scene here. Apparently, there are two other places to go to during the week, and the only day with no salsa is Monday. I love it.
Early the next morning (around 4am), I walked home in the rain and ran into one of my Brazilian classmates along the way.
The highlight of Saturday was a dinner-party at our apartment. The food was prepared by a French classmate of one of my Latvian roommates, and was really good. The evening was a mix of interesting conversation and a hesitation to carry on the party experience late into the night. After traveling half the way by Metro with two of my roommates, I decided to get off and go back to the apartment. I wasn’t in the mood for another really late night.
Sunday, we all got up late. My routine was partly changed because of that, as well as a bus detour in Affori (where the library, churches and hostel are). There was a huge street market taking place with food, clothes, balloons, and tuner-cars and go-karts on the side. The market made me really happy and made me think more about what it is I really want to do for work. Design?… exhibitions… conferences… sharing ideas… meeting people… communication… I love that.
I walked through the market once again on my way back to the apartment, and returned with two bags and a remaining four euros. That’ll be my reserve until at least the end of the week.
In the evening, I had a great conversation with my Chilean roommate about design, design education, and our careers. It’s times like that that I really appreciate living with him.
...
The past five weekdays were a complete mix of things, good and bad. Most concerning of all (now unsurprisingly) was that Internet was down in all the public libraries.
On Monday, my Chilean roommate and I spent a good part of the day playing “housewife”. On Tuesday, I cancelled an evening of salsa to complete a design project that I finally started to enjoy. On Wednesday, Internet was installed in our apartment, but didn’t work on my computer for some reason. That day, I really took offense to something my Chilean roommate said, and despite the fact that we had to deal with our landlords, both of us stayed in a tense state of anger with each other until he left that evening to join some of his friends. On Thursday, he didn’t come to school, because he found out that his bank account in Chile had been cleared. That day, he also started to look for flights to return home. Once I got back to the apartment that evening, both of us reconciled our differences, and refocused on this more pressing problem. The next day, although he found out he’d been robbed, he also found out that he didn’t need to fly home. Although he was actually excited to return, I think it’s better that he didn’t have to. He really belongs here, and I think he’ll become something big.
Thursday was an important day for me as well, because that day our class was invited to a conference. (Yes, another conference. And yes, I love them). And the food of course, was amazing. One of the sessions I naturally went to was on mobility. Coming out of it, I felt like I had learned so much. After classes in the afternoon, I skipped my Italian class to return to the apartment to speak with my Chilean roommate, and then go to the conference dinner at a now-popular “slow food” restaurant. It was there that I really got to meet other people from around Europe and the US in the field of technology transfer and sustainable development, and take part in a lot of good discussions about “sustainability”, “innovation”, China, Italy, and dance. Yes, I had to include that. I even managed to convince three people at my table to join me the following night.
Before leaving, I spoke with an American from the mobility session who had used the phrase “reverse technology transfer”. A great idea in my opinion. We told each other our stories of how we ended up where we were, and after hearing mine he ‘took his hat off to me’ for being so courageous. I felt honored and a little embarrassed to hear a guy more than twice my age say something like that, but I think it was another sign that despite the hardships, I may be traveling on the right road after all. I’ll take that as a blessing.
…
This past weekend was a combination of: salsa; a Saturday night that ran until six in the morning (and coming home to a broken bathroom door that now swings open from the top (don’t ask)); borrowing money; surviving on beans, tomatoes, onions and left-overs; chores; bargaining with my roommates for their food; being labeled “the poor grandfather” in the apartment; being labeled “the peacekeeper” for a group project my Chilean roommate and I are working on; inviting our new fifth roommate (an Indian from our class that needs to find a new apartment), thanking him for helping me with my internet connection problem and then saying goodbye to him the following day (he decided to stay at another roommate’s apartment for logistic reasons); getting caught on the bus for not having a ticket (yes, that’s probably pretty bad being in a foreign country); celebrating one of our Latvian roommate’s nameday with cake and cookies (my new source of carbs).
Before returning to the apartment after my Italian class this evening, I ran into my Indian classmate as he exited the bus carrying the luggage he had brought to our apartment. We stopped to talk for a while. He reminds me a lot of my Indian cousins, and I think he shares the same kind of comfort with me. He was in a really stressful state, as I have been with money and the lack of a decent internet connection. However, his situation might have been worse, but I felt I could relate to him. Oddly enough, it was in that moment that I felt I understood why I was here in Milan.
...
P.S. I think at this point, I need to come to terms with another reality: time. I have a feeling that with school, possible work, and the many unexpected complications that seem to come with living in Milan, I may not be able to write as much or as often once again. Nevertheless, I will whenever I can. I’ve discovered that blogging is now more of a hobby for me than just a communication or memory tool.
Monday, November 19, 2007
New Roommates, Design & Dance
Last Monday, my roommate and I were accompanied by two Latvian student artists. Quite different from the two of us, but at least from the perspective of rent, necessary. The evening and the following day were largely spent helping them get settled in. It was a strange experience in a way. Being the native English speaker in the group, almost by default, I became the acting head of the household. That day, I created some of the ground rules and got to know my new roommates in a way I feel my godfather would.
Wednesday, it was back to school again, for a very long day of an “Empowerment” class and more introduction presentations. How I love school.
After Thursday’s classes, I took an Italian language test (with no preparation), just to see how much I’ve forgotten and need to know. The answer: a lot. But I don’t think getting back into the language will be nearly as difficult as learning Mandarin.
My roommate, a Russian classmate and I had dinner that night in the ‘design’ district of town. It was good, but nothing you couldn’t find elsewhere.
By the end of Friday’s classes, I realized that although I’m enrolled in a masters program, the same type of people remain as every other educational program I’ve been in: the smart, the proud, the teacher’s pets, the clueless, the troublemakers, the weird, the quiet, the happy-go-luckies, and me.
That evening, a bunch of us visited a “design library club” and had aperitivo (the only type of evening meal that is reasonably priced in Milan). While there, I invited the group to my apartment for yet another party. This time, it was organized by our new Latvian roommates. It was a quieter party, with “ambient” music and a lot of cigarettes. Near the end of the night, I had to set the limit and say no more. The next morning, the new roommates agreed it was too much. It’s going to be really challenging living with my roommates for many reasons, but I’m not afraid of it.
Saturday was a mix of things from shopping to email, and exploring downtown. It was also the day, my Chilean roommate officially became my fashion designer and critic.
And on Sunday, he accompanied me for my morning routine. We ended up roaming around another ‘design’ district and going into a ‘designer’ store with super-weird and super-expensive things (Eg: a wallet there cost €1500. €1500! When was the last time you had €1500 in your wallet? The wallet costs more than the money you’d put in it!). After that, we explored the complete opposite side of the city of design: Chinatown. It was a nice break from the superfluous, and a nice reminder of my life one month ago. In the process, I found my first dance destination in Milan. A hall by the name of Caffe Caribe. Fridays being “Latino Americano” night. Man, am I excited!
Wednesday, it was back to school again, for a very long day of an “Empowerment” class and more introduction presentations. How I love school.
After Thursday’s classes, I took an Italian language test (with no preparation), just to see how much I’ve forgotten and need to know. The answer: a lot. But I don’t think getting back into the language will be nearly as difficult as learning Mandarin.
My roommate, a Russian classmate and I had dinner that night in the ‘design’ district of town. It was good, but nothing you couldn’t find elsewhere.
By the end of Friday’s classes, I realized that although I’m enrolled in a masters program, the same type of people remain as every other educational program I’ve been in: the smart, the proud, the teacher’s pets, the clueless, the troublemakers, the weird, the quiet, the happy-go-luckies, and me.
That evening, a bunch of us visited a “design library club” and had aperitivo (the only type of evening meal that is reasonably priced in Milan). While there, I invited the group to my apartment for yet another party. This time, it was organized by our new Latvian roommates. It was a quieter party, with “ambient” music and a lot of cigarettes. Near the end of the night, I had to set the limit and say no more. The next morning, the new roommates agreed it was too much. It’s going to be really challenging living with my roommates for many reasons, but I’m not afraid of it.
Saturday was a mix of things from shopping to email, and exploring downtown. It was also the day, my Chilean roommate officially became my fashion designer and critic.
And on Sunday, he accompanied me for my morning routine. We ended up roaming around another ‘design’ district and going into a ‘designer’ store with super-weird and super-expensive things (Eg: a wallet there cost €1500. €1500! When was the last time you had €1500 in your wallet? The wallet costs more than the money you’d put in it!). After that, we explored the complete opposite side of the city of design: Chinatown. It was a nice break from the superfluous, and a nice reminder of my life one month ago. In the process, I found my first dance destination in Milan. A hall by the name of Caffe Caribe. Fridays being “Latino Americano” night. Man, am I excited!
... indeed a mystery
We never know whether our 'forks in the path' have been the best ones to take, until we have a chance to 'look back' at them.
Even then, sometimes it's difficult for me to tell.
But we all must just keep moving forward happily; holding onto our own counsel and keeping faith with ourselves and our creator that this is the path we are meant to walk.
Life is indeed a mystery.
-David Faling
Monday, November 12, 2007
New Introductions, Possibilities & Perspectives
On November 7th, it was back to school again. It was also the first day I stopped living out of my suitcase. My roommate and I were late in coming to class because my watch, which I thought was working well after changing its battery twice in two countries, was slow. Luckily, the class was still doing introductions when we arrived. The teacher? Ezio Manzini.
He looked just as I remembered him from the previous year, although his white hair was a bit longer. By the end of his class, I felt reinvigorated by the potential of designers to help change the world. The cynicism I felt at the beginning of the course was now for the most part gone.
After a quick lunch with an Indian classmate, and the discovery of a really cheap supermarket near the university, the afternoon and evening classes were held, and more introductions made.
Thursday began with me coming late to class by myself. Luckily, it was another introduction period that I interrupted. Unluckily, what followed where 6 hours of “organizational theory”, with a break for lunch. Somebody please help me.
Friday, was a bit of a different day. Public transit was supposed to be on strike (they schedule their strikes here, crazy eh?), but I didn’t really think it would effect me much, since I had a meeting to talk about my internship before class. It turns out that I actually might be able to take on the job in Shanghai while completing my masters in Milan. I might even be able to do it as part of my masters, but we’ll see.
Classes begun that day with Ezio Manzini. His class went overtime by half an hour. The topic covered was well-being and how designers play a role in defining it. I won’t go into any detail about it here, but the later portion of the class was dedicated to the same idea I have been working with since the start of my first blog:
“If you really want to make a difference in the world of development,… go to China. If China can adopt sustainable development practices, so will the rest of the world”.
Again, this is not exactly what he said, but for the purpose of consistency, I’ll leave it at that.
I needed to go to the post office that day, so I missed half of the next class in order to do that. Luckily, it was “organizational theory” again, so I didn’t feel so bad. My roommate and I got a ride to our apartment by another classmate in her BMW that afternoon. I stayed up really late that night writing to my old dancepartner.
My Saturday morning was filled with things to do. Friday was the Indian holiday Devali , so I had an Indian buffet with a classmate and a girl who looked a bit like the Bollywood actress Aishwarya. I think it was the first time I ever thought an Indian girl was really beautiful. I spent the rest of the day looking for a gym.
Yesterday, a lot happened. And it was a Sunday! In the morning, while discussing our plans for the day, I realized something about my roommate: He’s a real designer. His ideas and passion for the subject are amazing. He’s working on a retail space competition that’s due in a few days and I honestly think he will win, if not at least get some kind of honorable mention. His resume already has a few of those. His only problem is communicating his ideas. After visiting the cathedral, Eritrean church, and the hostel later that afternoon, I returned to the apartment with some clearer thoughts of why I think that, and also where my strength is. It is not design, but communication. And I think this experience living with him will help me understand the meaning of that better. Despite the initial (and still potent culture-clashes), I think having him as a roommate may indeed be a “blessing”. His final undergraduate design thesis was an electric city-car system. Talk about good fortune!
My soon-to-be Sunday routine of visiting the cathedral, Eritrean church, and the hostel turned out to be more than just time for contemplation though. At the hostel, I was once again invited to eat with some of the staff, and after already having lunch with the Eritreans, the pasta seemed too much, but I couldn’t say no. I met a pair of Latvians there who apparently were looking for an apartment, so I took them to see ours. It turned out they were interested, and wanted to move in the next day! Crazy. My roommate had just finished an advertisement in search of someone, but said he didn’t expect someone so soon. They are to arrive again today. Crazy.
After the Latvians left, my roommate and I spent the next two hours or so cleaning the apartment for our house-warming party. Most of the people from our class came, as did the Latvians, and a few others. It was a great time. I’ve never helped organize a party like that before, but I think there’ll be more.
He looked just as I remembered him from the previous year, although his white hair was a bit longer. By the end of his class, I felt reinvigorated by the potential of designers to help change the world. The cynicism I felt at the beginning of the course was now for the most part gone.
After a quick lunch with an Indian classmate, and the discovery of a really cheap supermarket near the university, the afternoon and evening classes were held, and more introductions made.
Thursday began with me coming late to class by myself. Luckily, it was another introduction period that I interrupted. Unluckily, what followed where 6 hours of “organizational theory”, with a break for lunch. Somebody please help me.
Friday, was a bit of a different day. Public transit was supposed to be on strike (they schedule their strikes here, crazy eh?), but I didn’t really think it would effect me much, since I had a meeting to talk about my internship before class. It turns out that I actually might be able to take on the job in Shanghai while completing my masters in Milan. I might even be able to do it as part of my masters, but we’ll see.
Classes begun that day with Ezio Manzini. His class went overtime by half an hour. The topic covered was well-being and how designers play a role in defining it. I won’t go into any detail about it here, but the later portion of the class was dedicated to the same idea I have been working with since the start of my first blog:
“If you really want to make a difference in the world of development,… go to China. If China can adopt sustainable development practices, so will the rest of the world”.
Again, this is not exactly what he said, but for the purpose of consistency, I’ll leave it at that.
I needed to go to the post office that day, so I missed half of the next class in order to do that. Luckily, it was “organizational theory” again, so I didn’t feel so bad. My roommate and I got a ride to our apartment by another classmate in her BMW that afternoon. I stayed up really late that night writing to my old dancepartner.
My Saturday morning was filled with things to do. Friday was the Indian holiday Devali , so I had an Indian buffet with a classmate and a girl who looked a bit like the Bollywood actress Aishwarya. I think it was the first time I ever thought an Indian girl was really beautiful. I spent the rest of the day looking for a gym.
Yesterday, a lot happened. And it was a Sunday! In the morning, while discussing our plans for the day, I realized something about my roommate: He’s a real designer. His ideas and passion for the subject are amazing. He’s working on a retail space competition that’s due in a few days and I honestly think he will win, if not at least get some kind of honorable mention. His resume already has a few of those. His only problem is communicating his ideas. After visiting the cathedral, Eritrean church, and the hostel later that afternoon, I returned to the apartment with some clearer thoughts of why I think that, and also where my strength is. It is not design, but communication. And I think this experience living with him will help me understand the meaning of that better. Despite the initial (and still potent culture-clashes), I think having him as a roommate may indeed be a “blessing”. His final undergraduate design thesis was an electric city-car system. Talk about good fortune!
My soon-to-be Sunday routine of visiting the cathedral, Eritrean church, and the hostel turned out to be more than just time for contemplation though. At the hostel, I was once again invited to eat with some of the staff, and after already having lunch with the Eritreans, the pasta seemed too much, but I couldn’t say no. I met a pair of Latvians there who apparently were looking for an apartment, so I took them to see ours. It turned out they were interested, and wanted to move in the next day! Crazy. My roommate had just finished an advertisement in search of someone, but said he didn’t expect someone so soon. They are to arrive again today. Crazy.
After the Latvians left, my roommate and I spent the next two hours or so cleaning the apartment for our house-warming party. Most of the people from our class came, as did the Latvians, and a few others. It was a great time. I’ve never helped organize a party like that before, but I think there’ll be more.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Before School Begins Again
Sunday, October 29th was fairly uneventful, as I assume most Sundays in Italy will be. The famous slow pace of the country was definitely most pronounced that day. Shops were closed, public transportation less frequent, and the attitude of the people I encountered similar to the Chinese phrase “Have a rest”. With things at a stand still, and no where to go or people to see, I did the only logical thing: I went to church.
Now, I don’t know if this was fate, luck or what, but at the same time we were there, I received a call from one of the other classmates who had said they thought they had found a good apartment for us, which just so happened to be the same one I had looked at myself the Saturday before. When one of the owner’s of the apartment called me, without hesitation, I said we wanted it. We quickly finished our dealings with the agency we were with, and spent the rest of the evening wandering the centre of the city, celebrating our potential new apartment and contemplating our ability to pay the rent. We spent the evening at the hostel supported Halloween party. I don’t think either of us really felt we fit in, but it was nice to see.
The next day the two of us saw the apartment together. It was all up to my Chilean classmate at this point as to whether or not we would take it. Fortunately, despite the cost of rent being a little more than what we hoped to spend, we both agreed it was the best option. For me, I discovered that in apartment shopping, the people you will deal with actually make or break the deal. In this case, the landloards seem trustworthy, so I feel more at ease with the choice. The place is big for two people, but I’m sure we can find another roommate to lessen the burden of rent. Our afternoon was spent at IKEA. Even for the few necessities we’ll need (like beds), we could be spending up to €500. Man, Milan is expensive.
When we returned to the hostel, I read a few of the emails I had saved to my computer (internet still isn’t the easiest to come by). One was from a friend I had met in Shanghai. Her email read like a letter from a penpal, but there were two parts I thought were really thought-provoking. The first part that I wanted to share is the quote I’ve put before this posting. The second part is an interesting take on knowledge (her English corrected): “I think studying too hard is not a good thing. It means that you easily become a slave to the study, not the master of it.” I’ve never thought of it like that before.
The next email was regarding the job offer in Shanghai. It seems like the project is a go ahead. The only problem is that now I’ve set myself up to live in Milan. I talked to my future roommate about it, and strangely enough, he convinced me that the job is worth it. I’ve since thought that maybe the best thing to do is to indeed combine the two (as was suggested to me before at the Alberta Scholarship Office). It’s still something that has to be worked out in detail, and if it’s even possible, and even if it was, it would make things extremely challenging for me, but I’ve come to believe that these aren’t things I can’t do.
That evening, a bunch of us at the hostel made and ate our last meal together. The food was nothing more than spaghetti and defrosted vegetables, but it was the best food I’d had in a while. I think I really do like cooking.
The next day was all about preparing to move. My roommate and I signed the contract, and even though the place still has yet to be cleaned, and we now had the apartment. The first night belonged to me, as my roommate needed to go to Turino to get some of his things.
Saturday was a day pretty much to myself. I spent it window shopping along the main street near the apartment. I got to meet some of my neighbours and then prepared an early dinner for myself with some of the remaining food the previous occupants had left (Most of it unopened or unwrapped, so I think it was ok).
In the evening, I didn’t know what to do, so I took a stroll down the same street, but in the opposite direction, ending up in what seemed like an abandoned railyard. The kind of place a normal person probably wouldn’t wander into alone, but it’s me. I made it almost to the end where the high walls on both sides seemed to merge, but stopped when the weeds got too thick and the area too dangerous. Despite the environment, and my unknown ambitions for venturing there, it provided a good moment of contemplation and relief.
When I got back to the apartment, I went to sleep on the top floor (to test it out). Around midnight, I was awaken by an intruder. Apparently, he was a friend of one of the previous occupants and needed to stay one last night in the apartment. I didn’t have a choice, so spent the night with a stranger in the basement. The next morning he left just before the landlords and a cleaning lady came.
Being a Sunday, but already noon, I ventured back to my old hostel (with the intention of using the internet, but ending up just saying “Ciao” to one of the staff people). Next to the hostel is an Eritrean church. So, as a social sciences minor (anthropology being my favorite of the disciplines), I observed the ending of their traditional Sunday ceremony. Surprisingly similar to that of the Sikh tradition, everyone gathered together to enjoy lunch. This consisted of sitting outside and waiting for servers to hand out bread, sweet tea, and bananas. I had no money in my wallet at this point, and was still resisting making yet another international withdrawal, so part of me wanted to stick around, only to get some food. And in a matter of speaking, my prayer was answered. An old man who introduced himself as Zagai (pronounced Za-guy,… I love that name) insisted that I be fed. The food was simple and the portion small, but the invitation to return and the humility that came with it was more than what I expected. Later that afternoon, my roommate returned, and we spent our time starting to organize the apartment and eating Chinese food.
Yesterday, I spoke with the guy who wanted to give me the design job while in Shanghai. It seems like I might still be able to do it from Milan. In his words, “We’re all working globally now”. Yeah, and it’s pretty crazy if you ask me.
Around lunch, I returned to the university to receive some mail from my dad with the documents I need to get my student loan. I attended to email and related internet matters before my roommate and I decided to go out and buy some furniture. After carrying mattresses literally on our backs (at least for me) from a local mattress supplier, we made our way to IKEA once more. While there, we got a call from our landlords wondering where we were. They were waiting for us in our apartment to finish signing some contracts and go through some final details, but we were too far away to come even reasonably late, so we rescheduled and took our time coming back. It was on our return and that evening in the apartment that I really began to notice the significant differences between my roommate and me. I know I have only just begun to get to know him, but I think it will also be challenge to live with him. Part of it is language, and part of it is culture. But, we’ll just have to see.
Today, one of his old hostelmates arrived for a visit, or possibly to stay with us. Tomorrow, school begins once again. I tell you, it’s a crazy life in the real world.
After mass at a nearby Cathedral, I encountered an old lady who insisted she tell me something about the history of the area. She ended up taking me by the arm and showing me the neighbourbood park and library. The later of which proved to be really helpful. I now had a library card, and one hour of free internet service at any public library in Milan thanks to my self-proclaimed “Nona di Milano”.
The next day was supposed to be Antonio’s last at the hostel, so we said our goodbyes in the morning, as I changed trains to go have lunch with a classmate. The rest of the day from there consisted largely of apartment planning, shopping, and because of the company I was with, discussions about the significance of design and innovation. Somebody please help me.
Until the evening, the whole day seemed a bit off. But, when I returned to my room in the hostel, I was taken by surprise. Antonio was still there. Before he could explain, I gave him a big hug. I don’t know why I was so happy, but I was. Apparently, he had missed his train. Good, I thought. We ate roasted chestnuts together and I had pizza with the hostel staff.
Antonio actually did leave the next day. For that afternoon, it was pretty much just me and the staff in the hostel. Because the search for an apartment seemed like it was going nowhere, I used the time to make my phone calls in much the same way I did when I first started my research project in Shanghai. By 6pm, I had managed to arrange four appointments for the next day. By 9pm, with the arrival of a classmate from Chile who needed to change hostels (he had been staying in another hostel for an entire month), we had five.
From 10am to 5:30pm on Halloween, my Chilean classmate and I went vigorously around the city from appointment to appointment. The last place we ended up at was ironically the agency of the first apartment we had seen together with two other South American classmates the week before. Something hadn’t really felt right about all the places we had seen, and despite my efforts to look at our options “objectively” using “The Decision Maker” (see the book Get Smarter by Seymour Schulich for more on that), it seemed like we were only settling for this apartment.
The next day was supposed to be Antonio’s last at the hostel, so we said our goodbyes in the morning, as I changed trains to go have lunch with a classmate. The rest of the day from there consisted largely of apartment planning, shopping, and because of the company I was with, discussions about the significance of design and innovation. Somebody please help me.
Until the evening, the whole day seemed a bit off. But, when I returned to my room in the hostel, I was taken by surprise. Antonio was still there. Before he could explain, I gave him a big hug. I don’t know why I was so happy, but I was. Apparently, he had missed his train. Good, I thought. We ate roasted chestnuts together and I had pizza with the hostel staff.
Antonio actually did leave the next day. For that afternoon, it was pretty much just me and the staff in the hostel. Because the search for an apartment seemed like it was going nowhere, I used the time to make my phone calls in much the same way I did when I first started my research project in Shanghai. By 6pm, I had managed to arrange four appointments for the next day. By 9pm, with the arrival of a classmate from Chile who needed to change hostels (he had been staying in another hostel for an entire month), we had five.
From 10am to 5:30pm on Halloween, my Chilean classmate and I went vigorously around the city from appointment to appointment. The last place we ended up at was ironically the agency of the first apartment we had seen together with two other South American classmates the week before. Something hadn’t really felt right about all the places we had seen, and despite my efforts to look at our options “objectively” using “The Decision Maker” (see the book Get Smarter by Seymour Schulich for more on that), it seemed like we were only settling for this apartment.
Now, I don’t know if this was fate, luck or what, but at the same time we were there, I received a call from one of the other classmates who had said they thought they had found a good apartment for us, which just so happened to be the same one I had looked at myself the Saturday before. When one of the owner’s of the apartment called me, without hesitation, I said we wanted it. We quickly finished our dealings with the agency we were with, and spent the rest of the evening wandering the centre of the city, celebrating our potential new apartment and contemplating our ability to pay the rent. We spent the evening at the hostel supported Halloween party. I don’t think either of us really felt we fit in, but it was nice to see.
The next day the two of us saw the apartment together. It was all up to my Chilean classmate at this point as to whether or not we would take it. Fortunately, despite the cost of rent being a little more than what we hoped to spend, we both agreed it was the best option. For me, I discovered that in apartment shopping, the people you will deal with actually make or break the deal. In this case, the landloards seem trustworthy, so I feel more at ease with the choice. The place is big for two people, but I’m sure we can find another roommate to lessen the burden of rent. Our afternoon was spent at IKEA. Even for the few necessities we’ll need (like beds), we could be spending up to €500. Man, Milan is expensive.
When we returned to the hostel, I read a few of the emails I had saved to my computer (internet still isn’t the easiest to come by). One was from a friend I had met in Shanghai. Her email read like a letter from a penpal, but there were two parts I thought were really thought-provoking. The first part that I wanted to share is the quote I’ve put before this posting. The second part is an interesting take on knowledge (her English corrected): “I think studying too hard is not a good thing. It means that you easily become a slave to the study, not the master of it.” I’ve never thought of it like that before.
The next email was regarding the job offer in Shanghai. It seems like the project is a go ahead. The only problem is that now I’ve set myself up to live in Milan. I talked to my future roommate about it, and strangely enough, he convinced me that the job is worth it. I’ve since thought that maybe the best thing to do is to indeed combine the two (as was suggested to me before at the Alberta Scholarship Office). It’s still something that has to be worked out in detail, and if it’s even possible, and even if it was, it would make things extremely challenging for me, but I’ve come to believe that these aren’t things I can’t do.
That evening, a bunch of us at the hostel made and ate our last meal together. The food was nothing more than spaghetti and defrosted vegetables, but it was the best food I’d had in a while. I think I really do like cooking.
The next day was all about preparing to move. My roommate and I signed the contract, and even though the place still has yet to be cleaned, and we now had the apartment. The first night belonged to me, as my roommate needed to go to Turino to get some of his things.
Saturday was a day pretty much to myself. I spent it window shopping along the main street near the apartment. I got to meet some of my neighbours and then prepared an early dinner for myself with some of the remaining food the previous occupants had left (Most of it unopened or unwrapped, so I think it was ok).
In the evening, I didn’t know what to do, so I took a stroll down the same street, but in the opposite direction, ending up in what seemed like an abandoned railyard. The kind of place a normal person probably wouldn’t wander into alone, but it’s me. I made it almost to the end where the high walls on both sides seemed to merge, but stopped when the weeds got too thick and the area too dangerous. Despite the environment, and my unknown ambitions for venturing there, it provided a good moment of contemplation and relief.
When I got back to the apartment, I went to sleep on the top floor (to test it out). Around midnight, I was awaken by an intruder. Apparently, he was a friend of one of the previous occupants and needed to stay one last night in the apartment. I didn’t have a choice, so spent the night with a stranger in the basement. The next morning he left just before the landlords and a cleaning lady came.
Being a Sunday, but already noon, I ventured back to my old hostel (with the intention of using the internet, but ending up just saying “Ciao” to one of the staff people). Next to the hostel is an Eritrean church. So, as a social sciences minor (anthropology being my favorite of the disciplines), I observed the ending of their traditional Sunday ceremony. Surprisingly similar to that of the Sikh tradition, everyone gathered together to enjoy lunch. This consisted of sitting outside and waiting for servers to hand out bread, sweet tea, and bananas. I had no money in my wallet at this point, and was still resisting making yet another international withdrawal, so part of me wanted to stick around, only to get some food. And in a matter of speaking, my prayer was answered. An old man who introduced himself as Zagai (pronounced Za-guy,… I love that name) insisted that I be fed. The food was simple and the portion small, but the invitation to return and the humility that came with it was more than what I expected. Later that afternoon, my roommate returned, and we spent our time starting to organize the apartment and eating Chinese food.
Yesterday, I spoke with the guy who wanted to give me the design job while in Shanghai. It seems like I might still be able to do it from Milan. In his words, “We’re all working globally now”. Yeah, and it’s pretty crazy if you ask me.
Around lunch, I returned to the university to receive some mail from my dad with the documents I need to get my student loan. I attended to email and related internet matters before my roommate and I decided to go out and buy some furniture. After carrying mattresses literally on our backs (at least for me) from a local mattress supplier, we made our way to IKEA once more. While there, we got a call from our landlords wondering where we were. They were waiting for us in our apartment to finish signing some contracts and go through some final details, but we were too far away to come even reasonably late, so we rescheduled and took our time coming back. It was on our return and that evening in the apartment that I really began to notice the significant differences between my roommate and me. I know I have only just begun to get to know him, but I think it will also be challenge to live with him. Part of it is language, and part of it is culture. But, we’ll just have to see.
Today, one of his old hostelmates arrived for a visit, or possibly to stay with us. Tomorrow, school begins once again. I tell you, it’s a crazy life in the real world.
... a process of compromising to the real world
“I think life is a process of compromising to the real world, where you gradually give up your hopes and dreams. But I still want to keep them in my heart, though they may only be daydreams.”
– adapted from Cathy (a friend in Shanghai)
– adapted from Cathy (a friend in Shanghai)
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The First Week in Milan
I met my old dancepartner at the metro station in the morning of October 21st. We took a taxi to nearest shuttle bus station and made it to the airport with enough time to have breakfast together and say our last goodbyes. I will hold the memory of that moment in my mind forever.
…
The flight to Milan was direct and long. I sat next to a Chinese guy who couldn’t speak English, and surrounded by Italians and Chinese alike. I must have been the only foreigner to both countries aboard the Alitalia flight. During the flight, I witnessed a man suffocate a few rows in front and receive all the medical attention he could get. I watched Shriek the Third (man I love Shriek), and was entertained by the Michael Buble of stewards (both in looks and charisma). I arrived at the Milano Centrale train station late that evening and stayed in the first hotel I found vacancy with.
The next morning I made it to the Politecnico di Milano once again, luggage and all, and collected all the necessary documents and information I needed in order to stay in Italy as a student. I spent the rest of the day exploring the neighbouring streets in search of a bank, cellphone provider, post office, and an internet café.
Now, coming to Italy this time around was probably the least prepared I have ever been for any trip. This was largely because if I could have avoided it, I would have liked to skip the whole idea of going back to school. Especially a design school. I have grown extremely skeptical of design schools over the years and honestly think the entire discipline is being misguided, but that is another topic for another time and another place. In the meantime, I still have a potential job offer in Shanghai on the table, but I’m not counting on it.
Being unprepared has however meant that the only Euros I had were those that I got in exchange for the 83 American dollars I had with me. A whopping 40-some Euros. Anyway, that meant that I needed to find an ATM that accepted Visa or resort to Western Union, because apparently the hostel I planned to stay in only accepted cash. That had me running down the same neighboring streets where I swore I saw a Western Union. It turned out that there was none, but luckily for me, I had just enough money to pay for one night. So, sparing any transportation expenses, I made it to the hostel, luggage and all, with just enough time to pay for the night.
The hostel is in a reconverted building that used to be a hospital, and the surrounding area has a park closed off by a high wall. When I arrived that evening, I walked through an unlit path through the trees with a warm yellow light at the end. Just like walking through an enchanted forest from Zelda, no joke. In front of the entrance stood a man who seemed to be waiting for me that I would later come to know as Gabriele, or Gabo. I spent the rest of the evening talking with him about everything from girls to God. The night ended with an introduction to a woman who I would later call Mimma.
On the 23rd, I spent the whole morning getting my Codice Fiscale (Italian tax code) and meeting an American English teacher in the process. I spent the rest of the day exploring the tourist sites of the center of the city, the Duomo and a castle, only because they were on the way to the post office, batteries and ice cream.
That evening I spent some time with Mimma, a 32 year old Siclian in search of work, Antonio, a 23 year old Sicilian in search of work, and Gabo, a 35 year old from Turino. Each one a real character. Gabo, a bit like Faramir from The Lord of the Rings; Antonio, a living example of dynamic, expressive Italian speakers that stereotypes are derived from; Mimma, the mother of our group, much like the Portuguese girls I had known in elementary.
The 24th was the first day of classes. Introductions, a buffet lunch, and a campus tour. Whether it was because I was back in school, back in design school, or just unprepared, I’m not sure, but I felt the most cynical that I have ever felt that day.
The following day didn’t really lift that feeling from me, but I learned that some of my fellow students had similar sentiments as one of the lectures seemed almost too ideal and out of the realm of traditional design. Even for me.
After class, I accompanied some of my South American classmates to look for an apartment. That evening was Gabo’s last in Milan. An older guy with the enthusiasm and concern for things typical of someone ten years younger.
Friday morning, Antonio was supposed to wake up earlier than all of us, which he did, to go to his newfound work. His only problem was that he went right back to sleep once he stood up. Needless to say, he didn’t go to work that day. It was my third day of school, but also the start of a Milanese holiday. So, that means no school for 10 days. Great…
That evening brought a new face to the hostel. Carlo, an Italian-Canadian actor from Montreal. Nice guy. Carlo, Mimma, Antonio and I all ate pizza and talked until late in the night. From my memory of Italy last year, and my experiences here so far, I think communication will be a much greater issue than in Shanghai. I think the Italians are too proud of their language and their heritage, but I can’t blame them.
Yesterday, I woke up early in the morning to some guy yelling praises to the Lord. Mimma and Antonio laughed when I tried to ask what was happening in my poor Italian. I spent the later morning with Mimma touring the neighbourhood and walking through the streetmarket (remarkably similar to the one I went to in Shanghai). After lunch, we said our goodbyes and she returned to Sicily. I saw another apartment, and then had dinner with the staff in the hostel. Carlo left early the next morning, but before he did he said to me, “Now you’re going to have to make it on your own, as you always have”. I wasn’t completely sure what to say to that, but I think somehow he knew the road I am taking.
…
The flight to Milan was direct and long. I sat next to a Chinese guy who couldn’t speak English, and surrounded by Italians and Chinese alike. I must have been the only foreigner to both countries aboard the Alitalia flight. During the flight, I witnessed a man suffocate a few rows in front and receive all the medical attention he could get. I watched Shriek the Third (man I love Shriek), and was entertained by the Michael Buble of stewards (both in looks and charisma). I arrived at the Milano Centrale train station late that evening and stayed in the first hotel I found vacancy with.
The next morning I made it to the Politecnico di Milano once again, luggage and all, and collected all the necessary documents and information I needed in order to stay in Italy as a student. I spent the rest of the day exploring the neighbouring streets in search of a bank, cellphone provider, post office, and an internet café.
Now, coming to Italy this time around was probably the least prepared I have ever been for any trip. This was largely because if I could have avoided it, I would have liked to skip the whole idea of going back to school. Especially a design school. I have grown extremely skeptical of design schools over the years and honestly think the entire discipline is being misguided, but that is another topic for another time and another place. In the meantime, I still have a potential job offer in Shanghai on the table, but I’m not counting on it.
Being unprepared has however meant that the only Euros I had were those that I got in exchange for the 83 American dollars I had with me. A whopping 40-some Euros. Anyway, that meant that I needed to find an ATM that accepted Visa or resort to Western Union, because apparently the hostel I planned to stay in only accepted cash. That had me running down the same neighboring streets where I swore I saw a Western Union. It turned out that there was none, but luckily for me, I had just enough money to pay for one night. So, sparing any transportation expenses, I made it to the hostel, luggage and all, with just enough time to pay for the night.
The hostel is in a reconverted building that used to be a hospital, and the surrounding area has a park closed off by a high wall. When I arrived that evening, I walked through an unlit path through the trees with a warm yellow light at the end. Just like walking through an enchanted forest from Zelda, no joke. In front of the entrance stood a man who seemed to be waiting for me that I would later come to know as Gabriele, or Gabo. I spent the rest of the evening talking with him about everything from girls to God. The night ended with an introduction to a woman who I would later call Mimma.
On the 23rd, I spent the whole morning getting my Codice Fiscale (Italian tax code) and meeting an American English teacher in the process. I spent the rest of the day exploring the tourist sites of the center of the city, the Duomo and a castle, only because they were on the way to the post office, batteries and ice cream.
That evening I spent some time with Mimma, a 32 year old Siclian in search of work, Antonio, a 23 year old Sicilian in search of work, and Gabo, a 35 year old from Turino. Each one a real character. Gabo, a bit like Faramir from The Lord of the Rings; Antonio, a living example of dynamic, expressive Italian speakers that stereotypes are derived from; Mimma, the mother of our group, much like the Portuguese girls I had known in elementary.
The 24th was the first day of classes. Introductions, a buffet lunch, and a campus tour. Whether it was because I was back in school, back in design school, or just unprepared, I’m not sure, but I felt the most cynical that I have ever felt that day.
The following day didn’t really lift that feeling from me, but I learned that some of my fellow students had similar sentiments as one of the lectures seemed almost too ideal and out of the realm of traditional design. Even for me.
After class, I accompanied some of my South American classmates to look for an apartment. That evening was Gabo’s last in Milan. An older guy with the enthusiasm and concern for things typical of someone ten years younger.
Friday morning, Antonio was supposed to wake up earlier than all of us, which he did, to go to his newfound work. His only problem was that he went right back to sleep once he stood up. Needless to say, he didn’t go to work that day. It was my third day of school, but also the start of a Milanese holiday. So, that means no school for 10 days. Great…
That evening brought a new face to the hostel. Carlo, an Italian-Canadian actor from Montreal. Nice guy. Carlo, Mimma, Antonio and I all ate pizza and talked until late in the night. From my memory of Italy last year, and my experiences here so far, I think communication will be a much greater issue than in Shanghai. I think the Italians are too proud of their language and their heritage, but I can’t blame them.
Yesterday, I woke up early in the morning to some guy yelling praises to the Lord. Mimma and Antonio laughed when I tried to ask what was happening in my poor Italian. I spent the later morning with Mimma touring the neighbourhood and walking through the streetmarket (remarkably similar to the one I went to in Shanghai). After lunch, we said our goodbyes and she returned to Sicily. I saw another apartment, and then had dinner with the staff in the hostel. Carlo left early the next morning, but before he did he said to me, “Now you’re going to have to make it on your own, as you always have”. I wasn’t completely sure what to say to that, but I think somehow he knew the road I am taking.
... a series of pulls back and forth
Life is a series of pulls back and forth.
You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else.
Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn’t.
You take certain things for granted,
even when you know you should never take anything for granted.
A tension of opposites,
like a pull on a rubber band.
And most of us live somewhere in the middle.
Sounds like a wrestling match, I say.
A wrestling match.
You could describe life that way.
Which side wins?...
Love wins.
Love always wins.
- adapted from Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom
You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else.
Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn’t.
You take certain things for granted,
even when you know you should never take anything for granted.
A tension of opposites,
like a pull on a rubber band.
And most of us live somewhere in the middle.
Sounds like a wrestling match, I say.
A wrestling match.
You could describe life that way.
Which side wins?...
Love wins.
Love always wins.
- adapted from Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom
Lost in Shanghai
From the day I left Edmonton, early in the morning on September 4th, until the 20th of the same month, I kept a semi-detailed account of my experiences and thoughts, with the purpose of eventually starting this new blog in a similar fashion to the last two. That didn’t happen for a few reasons:
For one, I didn’t actually end up feeling so much like I was starting a new chapter in my life, as I was trying to catch up on lost time.
Two, settling in this time around in Shanghai proved to be a little less than easy, and the array of things I wanted to accomplish too overwhelming for me to focus my mind on trying to summarize them all into blog postings.
And three, I was living each day with such uncertainty and solitude, that I didn’t really know how to manage my time all that well (although I did eventually develop a bit of a routine).
But, if I had to summarize my time in Shanghai this time around into one word, it would be this: lost. Lost in time, purpose and relationships. There were some very important things I had left up in the air when I had left Shanghai the first time, that all sort of came together this time to make me accept something I now in hindsight realize I had treated too lightly in the past: life goes on. For those I care for, as well as myself.
Now I have learned, hopefully for the last time, what things are worth giving priority and taking responsibility for, and what things I just have to let be. I cannot even begin to describe the struggle here, but for the purpose of visual communication, I’ve posted the following images tell some parts of the story…
…
In my next post, I will start the next chapter of my life that started on October 21st. The day I left Shanghai to return to Milan.
On the advice of one of my brothers and the need for some big changes in my life, I will attempt to write my postings in a different style: half diary, half poetry.
For one, I didn’t actually end up feeling so much like I was starting a new chapter in my life, as I was trying to catch up on lost time.
Two, settling in this time around in Shanghai proved to be a little less than easy, and the array of things I wanted to accomplish too overwhelming for me to focus my mind on trying to summarize them all into blog postings.
And three, I was living each day with such uncertainty and solitude, that I didn’t really know how to manage my time all that well (although I did eventually develop a bit of a routine).
But, if I had to summarize my time in Shanghai this time around into one word, it would be this: lost. Lost in time, purpose and relationships. There were some very important things I had left up in the air when I had left Shanghai the first time, that all sort of came together this time to make me accept something I now in hindsight realize I had treated too lightly in the past: life goes on. For those I care for, as well as myself.
Now I have learned, hopefully for the last time, what things are worth giving priority and taking responsibility for, and what things I just have to let be. I cannot even begin to describe the struggle here, but for the purpose of visual communication, I’ve posted the following images tell some parts of the story…
…
In my next post, I will start the next chapter of my life that started on October 21st. The day I left Shanghai to return to Milan.
On the advice of one of my brothers and the need for some big changes in my life, I will attempt to write my postings in a different style: half diary, half poetry.
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