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.

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.

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.