Lavender and Sundried Tomatoes

Know thyself means this, that you get acquainted with what you know, and what you can do.
~Menander

Although I do not always recognise them, I am a great believer of coincidences. The last couple of weeks have solidified my beliefs with many people coming into my life for a reason. The only way to describe the way I feel is to compare myself to a flower (or a weed as my mum would say, in her best Bill and Ben impersonation). Over the last few weeks the people that have come into my life have supplied me sunlight and water, gradually my roots are growing and I am beginning to shoot up out of my pot and into the world.

When I left the family, I found it hard, mentally and emotionally, to become accustom to the idea that I had no work and support of money. The au pair job was my security for the summer and would keep me up until I started studying in September. However with the circumstances, I found myself habiting at a friends’ house after a desperate get away from the family situation. My friend asks me sometimes, ‘Do you regret leaving? If it wasn’t for me, what would you be doing?’ I have to reiterate to them that there is no way I regret leaving. The last three weeks have given me the time to find myself again, realise what on earth I am doing and allowed me to adjust. After a week of sickness and the feeling of being lost, I got kicked into gear when I visited Bergamo for a day looking for work. Upon arrival back to Brescia, I felt overwhelmingly positive and happy knowing that my independence was returning.

It became very clear to me one evening that my security very much lay in the hands of my friend who had rescued me from the family. This is when I started to fall again, witnessing my weakness I became annoyed that I had let myself live a very familiar viscous circle. It’s far too easy to depend on people and I realised it was time I had to get away and find myself again, not just for a day trip to Bergamo though. Instead, my kiwi friend suggested I joined her for a weekend out in the countryside. I have to say, I miss the New Zealand countryside, especially my parents place. The opportunity couldn’t be missed, on Friday last week; I was taken to Brescia station bright and early. I had booked into a hostel in Bergamo for one night, to give me the opportunity to visit my prospective work place and to generally get a feel of the city.

After a morning of observing lessons and making notes at the English language school, I joined one of the teachers and the boss for lunch. It was great to have some true Kiwi conversation with one of the guys that work there and for the best part of it, we had to translate a lot of the phrases and words to our fluent English speaking Italian boss, so she could understand! It’s amazing just how valuable it is being able to reminisce with someone about home. Having had a good morning and the news of a job for September lightening up my day, I went to the hostel for a siesta in the afternoon. Which is when I met Alex, a girl from Andorra, no, Spain, no, Costa Rica? The story was always different, but she had a wicked giggle. With the idea of eating alone creeping up in my head, I asked if she wanted to grab some dinner with me that night.

Later that evening, after a bottle of wine, two limoncellos and half a bottle of some kind of Sicilian alcoholic beverage, we found ourselves sat in a closed restaurant with the waiter and his friend. It was a strange situation to be in with people I hardly knew, but it was certainly an experience. We stayed out until two in the morning, chatting and giggling. For me it was a great opportunity to get an insight on the people in Bergamo. Having exchanged numbers, we went our separate ways.

The next morning, I was up at the bright and early time of seven, feeling rather hung over, I clambered out of bed suddenly aware of the fact that I was in a shared room of a hostel. After a bowl of coco pops and yoghurt, I left for the train station. My destination was a little town called Chivasso, which is on the way to Torino. The train ride was a challenge and I forbid myself from reading in case it made me feel sick. Once in Milano, I took in the greatness of the manic crowds and jumped onto my next train. Here, while sat on this train, I witnessed my first Italian crazy fight between the conductor and a woman. Most people were looking over their shoulders with shocked expressions on their faces, whereas I was trying to hold back the laughter. From someone who understands very little Italian, what I could understand made me giggle, “Stupido! Bruto!” After a good two hour journey, I arrived in Chivasso.



I had planned to spend a few nights with Hope, a friend from university who will be studying with me in September (I think I’ve probably mentioned it before, but thought I would add it in again), she was ‘woofing’ (Working On Organic Farms) out in the countryside at the most beautiful country house that had been renovated by the owners into an environmental paradise, set up for education or simply accommodation. With honey bees, an orchard, a vegetable garden, donkey, chickens, you name it, they had it. It was so refreshing to be required to do some hands on work, with our first job of sorting through a harvest of potatoes. I have to say, it was fun at first, until a storm blew over and turned it all to mud. It took us many gruelling hours; in fact I think the sun had gone down by the time we finished. But we used the time for a good girls catch up, often questioning our motive to come to Italy and also breeching the subject of how much we miss New Zealand.




The time I spent with Hope in the country will hold lovely memories for me. It gave me some liberating time away to a supportive environment allowing me to relax and enjoy myself for…perhaps the first time in Italy. I returned to Bergamo on Tuesday and met the waiter from the restaurant for a guided tour of Citta Alta. Although he had an understanding of English, he was lacking in vocabulary, which helped me use more of my Italian that I have stashed away in my head (somewhere).

I returned to Brescia on Wednesday after a good five nights away, I felt refreshed, ready to crack on with some work and assertive on the mission to find a flat. On my journey through the week it became apparent just how awesome the coincidences are that pop up. My friend is right, if it wasn’t for them, I would probably still be with the family grinding my teeth and going out of my mind. Instead, with their help, I have reached out and found work, friends and my confidence again.

P.S. I went on my first autobus in Italy this morning…and I didn’t end up in Rome. Phew!

Falling for Expectations

I am constantly amazed at the extent of which people can affect your life. Within the last week I have grasped an awareness of how important it is to surround myself with the right kind of people. Since arriving in Italy, I have had my teeth clenched; bite marks in my tongue and sometimes a forced smile upon my face. I was enjoying my time, but not as much as what I had expected too. Essentially, all of what has happened in the last four weeks is based on my expectations. I don’t think I had a clear understanding of what au-pair work had in store for me. I somewhat knew it was going to be a difficult ride; I felt that it couldn’t throw at me anything I had not dealt with in my past like living with a family, dealing with someone else’s children and generally just adapting to new life.

I wasn’t surprised to find each of those things during the last four weeks; however I found many more situations that made for a difficult ride. I’m not here to name and blame, but quite forwardly I will admit that the family’s lifestyle was far different to my own, at first I considered it to be money and possession that allowed them to develop such a mind-set, however after further thought, it was that their attitude to money differed from mine. Again, admittedly, I don’t come from the dregs of society but neither do I rub in peoples’ faces what my family has in possession because to me, possession and money do not rule my life. I would say they are meaningless to me, but that would be a lie, they are not high on my Richter scale of importance. I am not suggesting that I dislike people that enjoy money and don’t think the same way as me; I am merely saying that I cannot adjust to having a housekeeper that works her butt off to tend to every need and an au pair who should read minds and be there at the click of a finger as and when she is needed.

Many things irritated me about living with them; at first I could hide the irritation and just accept differences. But as time wore on, I was becoming more unhappy about certain aspects. Not just physically (knowing where to be and when etc) but also emotionally, I was becoming more and more frustrated with not having independence and my own space. By living there, I no longer felt like a proud young professional, my life and personality was meaningless to them and I was merely there as a worker. You might be thinking ‘Yeah well Katy, go figure! Surely you thought about that before you went to Italy?’ which I did, but as my mum put it, I didn’t realise just how ‘upstairs, downstairs’ it was going to be. I think coming from a culture where we tend to treat people how we like to be treated, I struggled to place myself in such hierarchical orientated family.

I cannot say I regret those four weeks, it has lead me to a better understanding of a certain strand of Italian culture and I am now far more aware of the different people that are around me. On Sunday, I broke the news to the parents that I was unhappy. I will mention here, that the reasons I have stated above were not the only reasons for my decision. There were a few upsets between me and one of the parents, to which I kept trying to tell myself that it was a lack of communication. However, my patience wore thin and after another outburst stating that I was not living up to her expectations, I blew it. Call it what you want, but I live up to only one person’s expectations, and that is my own. I am happy for people to produce guidelines in order for me to develop, but I don’t appreciate being told what I can, can’t, should and should not do. Maybe I should put it down to the Montessori educator in me, with the belief that children should not be told, but merely guided in the right direction. You’re probably thinking, give her some space the poor woman has English as a second language, but I knew she didn’t have a problem with communicating in a decent manner.

I am out now. Appreciating the independence and serenity of my own life again, to the extent that I can when I am living in a friend’s house! Surrounded by Italians who care and want to help me, after four weeks I finally have a genuine smile on my face. Yesterday I took a train to Bergamo, an opportunity to rekindle my independent streak! I didn’t have much of a plan, but I had addresses of language schools and a dozen CV’s ready to hand out. After sitting in the tourist information building for half an hour, I set off with my new map which had been attacked with a pen, marking the addresses of my destinations. During the day, I met some fantastic people, from one school to another and also on the return train ride home. Greeted by English, Kiwi and Swedish people, each more than happy to share a snippet of their life story, being foreign and in Italy immediately implied similarities between us. My shoulders are no longer weighed down with stresses of au-pair life. Instead, puzzled as to what to do next and which road to take from here.

The Beauty of Language- La bellezza del linguaggio

Language really does have its funny points. It’s a puzzle of vocabulary and grammar that, if the pieces are not put together properly, can be highly amusing and somewhat embarrassing!

I guess that is one of the highlights of learning a second language, people get a lot of laughs out of you. However, it works both ways!

The other day I asked Albi if he fancied a granata from the local gelato shop… which he laughed at and said “No I don’t want a bomb”. Once he explained the difference between the word granata (grenade) and granita (finely crushed ice drink), I came to realise that talking like this could be a little risky! However, it was worth the giggles. There have been a few slip ups with the language and I think people just look at me and accept my foreignness!

This is the way I looked at my friend Ricky the other day, when he was trying to explain and translate what low fat yoghurt was in Italian. Grasso being fat, he proceeded to tell me that it was yoghurt without grass. Once that was said, I was in fits of laughter. I couldn’t hold it back! I have heard children say very funny things when working at the school, but I’ve resisted the giggles until after work. However I couldn’t help it. It must have made Ricky feel like a right dork, yet once I explained what he had said in English, we shared the hilarity.

A similar situation came up later on that day when we visited Lago d’Garda, a beautiful and very popular area in northern Italy. As we strolled along the beach, passed the men in their white speedos and gold chains, passed the knee high sock and sandal wearing Germans, we commented on the colour of the water and how beautiful it was. Further down the beach, I was desperate to go for a swim, yet after assessing the water, Ricky made the comment that there were too many vegetables in the water. I felt the tears emerge and the laughter choking my throat, I had an idea what he meant and before I started uncontrollably laughing I checked that he was suggesting seaweed as vegetables. Another triumphant on the spot language lesson!

I think that is why I am so shy to use the Italian that I know, because I’m so aware of the laughter that it will cause! However, through laughter and enjoyment we learn more and remember it. I don’t think Ricky will be forgetting about his vegetables in the sea and I won’t get a grenade and a cold drink mixed up again!

Mi manca la normalità...

What makes this day different? I’ve asked myself the same question numerous times today. No matter what I have done today, I cannot find my way out of the oppressive fog I seem to have wound myself into. This morning, I did Albi’s English lesson early which gave him the afternoon to play with his friends, this also allowed me some time to enjoy my afternoon. Having felt pretty low since waking up, I thought I would take the opportunity to walk through town and do a little shopping in the hope it might cheer me up and feed me a spoonful of independence.

As I walked through town, I listened to my music, which is something I really miss doing. I miss coming home from work, slamming on my stereo and listening to music at whatever volume I wanted. Now I look back and think I must have been spoilt! With my headphones in, I wander with purpose through the crowds of people. Sometimes I wonder just how foreign I must look, the amount of people that watch, gaze or simply glance in my direction is a little unnerving. I feel like I have something stuck on my face, I find myself looking in shop windows at my reflection to check that I haven’t missed a bit of tomato or pasta on my cheek.

There are many things I’d love to write about regarding living in Brescia and experiencing this new country. However, 1. I wouldn’t know where to start and 2. I am not in the mood today! Non lo so, I don’t know why I burden my blog with this grumpiness, I feel like writing but not sure what exactly about.

I guess I should just come out with it, I miss home heaps. I miss friends. I miss English conversation with my family and friends. I am being sucked into a vicious circle of homesickness. I see myself doing it. However, dealing with it, I am stumbling, not knowing which way to turn or what to do in the given surroundings to help myself. I feel trapped by a language barrier! If I was in New Zealand, I would be proactive and find something to do with myself for the evenings, study or just meeting friends. I considered doing a yoga class, but how on earth am I meant to follow what’s going on if I cannot understand the lingo?

I’m not rejecting the use of Italian; I find it hard to grasp an opportunity to use my limited vocabulary. Ah. I’m just getting sick of going around in circles. The song ‘I want to break free’ by Queen comes to mind.

Okay. I think I’ve had a little moan. But, I cannot emphasise enough how much I want my big double bed, my clothes from home, chocolate ice cream from Blue, to drive!! To walk on the beach, yes even in the winter to feel my toes sink into the cold wet sand, to visit friends, to have a boring meal like baked beans on toast, to play music loud and sing all the swear words! I feel like a caged bird and I don’t know how long I can wait for someone to unlock my cage and let me free.