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Stranger among strangers
Stranger among strangers

Stranger among strangers

I feel like killing somebody. It’s not just that this life isn’t for me, but it is indeed absurd. Two months have past since I am in Italy and things don’t look any brighter.
I left my country with 100 euros in my pocket and my luggage, nothing else. You try doing that and tell me if it’s anything close to simple or normal. Sure, you can find a job picking olives or grapes or even something in construction, but even at that you need to know their language or you just need that chance to find the job. It isn’t easy, because even Italians are trying to find these jobs. They are seasonal and they pay quite well. But enough of this ! It doesn’t concern me, because I am trying to find a normal job with a normal paycheck and this is the most difficult part of all.
First of all, in Italy you must speak Italian in a pretty perfect way. This relates to any country, for a big advantage. In two months I already learned pretty much of this language, because I’m good at learning foreign languages, some Italians even told me that I look and sound Italian and were surprised of my short time since I’ve been here; yet, I keep hearing that I must speak the language in a better way. Sounds about right, especially for a serious job. Only now I appreciate the level of my mother language, learned during all this years. In my language (Romanian) I can speak even better than most Romanians, because I studied it. I can speak at all tenses but in this new language I need to stay focused on the present tense, the past and the future. So it’s like a „robotic” limited way of speaking a language. Why am I not in England or in the USA I wonder? English is also kind of my mother language.
I had a pretty decent life in Romania and I’m amazed of the level of poverty or coldness of the people in Italy. Of course, I hadn’t been living in a more important city like Rome or Milan and I really hope that not everybody is this way. Some people think that Romanians are lazy and messy but the Italian people I met here are actually the ones with this kind of problems.
Then there is the problem of accommodation. It is said that a foreigner has the right to live here for only 3 months. What the hell can I do in 3 months? I don’t know the language, I don’t even have a driving license, how am I to succeed here without a real help from their Government? Maybe there are some laws written in my favor but it isn’t simple to find them and I don’t even have an internet connection yet to try and find them online. It’s like someone said to me two days ago: of our obligations we are constantly reminded but of our rights not so much. This…is very stressful. I would so like to SCREAM, something, anything, but it won’t get me in a better place.
I live in a small apartment. For two people is enough, but for more than 4 is Hell. Plus, I have two noisy and stressful neighbors that I have to keep in order, because they want food, they want to chat and that is just not normal. The small town of Foiano Della Chiana isn’t ugly but it is small, with small-minded people I think. I wonder if everywhere else is this way. It’s crazy, because I am not here for their poor sightseeing, I want to receive the help that I deserve. „One hand washes the other”, this should be the economical and political rule of these type of cases because when you work in a country you work also for it.
I used to stay at home, not doing much, but at least I had internet and with that I built myself a life, not only in the online environment but in the real life also. I became a bit important for some people and it was very satisfactory for me, especially because that was my plan all along, but now, I had to leave that life in a sort of pause. I now realize that I could have done more in my country, in my city, even tough things weren’t that pretty there but…we live and we learn. I always lacked motivation but now, seeing how life is here, I am probably more motivated of doing things. So, this is a lesson for others like me.
I already knew in advance that this is how I would feel and that this is a way to boost my motivation, but I had no real support at home. Just hearing „do that! because is better for you!” isn’t enough, it is more likely stressful.
So here I am, in a new world, with strange people that are calling me stranger. I don’t want to give up but I can’t do too much to make my stay here any better. I went to places, I enrolled myself in a data base of employees in a much more bigger town called Arezzo, but if the language is the biggest impediment, then I’m kind of screwed. Like I said, I am learning, pretty fast, but I don’t think it will be enough. I keep remembering my level of grammar knowledge in my hometown and I can’t find no comparability with this situation.
Even today I went to a computer shop to ask about a job. „Buon giorno, ho una domanda. Io cerco qualcosa di lavoro, c’e qualcosa qui…per me?”. (Good evening, I have a question. I’m searching for some work, is there something here…for me?”). The woman that I was talking to smiled and said that she doesn’t know anything about me, she needs a Curriculum. I gave her one of my curriculums from my backpack and she continued talking about needing to know about me. Bitch, read the paper! I felt like saying. She said that if something comes up, she’ll give me a call. Yeah, same story as a week ago, in another place. The Bureau of Work or what’s it called in Arezzo gave me some papers to fill out: about my experience, family, school. All in Italian. I understood most of it and my cousin helped me a bit but this is not normal. I am a foreigner, of course I don’t know your stupid language! Why is that expected from me. It’s logical that I will learn the language someday but until then, how am I to live in this country? Very very poor politics. I could say that two months aren’t enough for finding out „the ropes”, but technically, in 3 months I’m outta here. So…what the hell kind of logic is this?
It’s sooooo boring, staying like this, doing nothing, consuming: food, heat, energy. All of this things cost money and the aunt that I’m living with isn’t the wife of Berlusconi, she isn’t even the wife of a decent shop owner or something. She’s actually been divorced for a long time. It’s hard…it’s mad. They say learning Italian is easy, because it sounds a lot like Romanian, but this isn’t really how things work. Maybe I’m just too much of a perfectionist.
First of all, yes, they do sound alike at some words, but Italian is a pretty difficult language or at least, like any other new-found language, it takes time to learn. Some say that they learned it from the television, but again, that’s not the case. It takes to much time and you’ll just speak too badly for someone to take you that serious. Like those Spanish maids in movies that don’t really know the English language. I need seriousness, I need a good level of recognition, I don’t need a shovel and a helmet. Capisci?
I don’t even know what to write anymore. I didn’t want to write this in English but it made me fell more intimate in a full house that doesn’t understand much of this language. That’s pretty cool actually. I always wanted to invent some language that no one else would know, but it seems that this one is good enough. I love English and I ask again: Why am I not in England right now? I Need $ maybe? Or…pounds…
I live with my cousins and my aunt and she has an Italian boyfriend for some time now. This boyfriend stays with us, although his mother and father live a few houses away. This man is 50 years old and has a condition that I’m not really sure about yet: he sleeps a lot and takes pills. It is something caused by a depression or something. That wouldn’t be stressful for me but he’s kind of a kid at heart. Too much of one. Always thinking about partying, dancing with his Santa belly and other stuff. He walks in his underwear in this small house, he leaves his cigarette remains in the toilet or in the sink, he always wants the fork and the glass of juice put in front of him and won’t sit up for them, he’s a disaster! It’s useless asking why my aunt is still with him, the question has been asked before, a million times.
He takes sleeping pills so yesterday, I tough I should take one. I drank a little wine also. Mmm, sweet drunkenness. I started to feel happy, but my legs were a bit out of sync. I backed up into the fridge and something felt down. I didn’t pick up the something, I was just staying there…cool…like nothing had happened. This man was going to the city to see a football match so I went along with him. Then we left, then I got home, then I slept. My cousin told me that I should stop drinking. I hate when somebody says that to me, like I’m a bad, violent or a reckless person. I drank some glasses of wine these days, but that is because I like it and I usually drink a lot (beer, wine, water, coca cola…) and because I have nothing to do and because I put up with a lot of bad or stupid stuff. Even so, I don’t get really drunk, I just get sleepy or calm. This time it was the pills that made it more powerful but that really didn’t turned me into a very different person, it just made me go to bed. Today my cousin said that my aunt baked some cakes, I asked why she didn’t left me any, she said that she did and I ate some and I should really stop drinking. Even now I’m trying to figure out if I ate something last night.
The Simpsons cheer me up once in a while. Almost every-night, at 19:30, I watch the Simpsons, I always liked this cartoon and I’m glad that we’re no strangers even here, in Italy. At 19:00, also each night, there’s a movie that I grew fond of, I think it’s called The Big Bang Theory. It’s very fun.
So quiet is the house now. Mr. Sleepy is doing his thing, everybody is outside (fuori), the noisy neighbors are talking outside, at least they’re not here. I asked one of this persons yesterday:
– Ascolta, che aspetti?
– Che?
– Adesso, che aspetti?
– Tua zia!
– Si, ma mia zia e ocupatta, io sono ocupatto…
– ….a, a…ho capito, scusi. Ciao, io sono andata via…
This woman comes here daily, for a coffee, for a cigarette, for food, for discussions. I like helping people but I don’t like helping bad/reckless/stupid people. The TV was off, I was busy and my aunt had business in the bathroom. Yet still, she didn’t got the idea. A few moments later she left. She still makes visits and one day I might not be so Zen.
I hate that I can’t be here as a tourist and only then as a worker. I need to see the good life, the motivation, not a life much worse than in my country, because it is at the moment much worse. I can’t wait for that internet to appear. I’ll search the shit out of the embassy and constitution.
Opa, am realizat ca sunt singur acasa de fapt. Opa, am realizat ca pastila isi face efectul. Ce funky e sa mergi prin casa cu 2,5 miligrame de Lorazepam Dorom in sistem. Opa, vorbesc in romana.
I just found out that I’m alone in the house. I will probably party for a while, put some Linkin Park or Limp Bizkit. The 2,5 mg pill is called Lorazepam Dorom. Some collect bottles of Coca-Cola, some collect figurines, I should collect this kind of pills: Xanax, Lorazepam, Alprazolam… I’m not a junky or a heavy drinker, but I get this way in times of extreme boredom or stress.
Hmm, that’s about enough for today. It’s late, I’m bored and the pill is taking effect. Don’t worry, I’m strong, I’ll be fine for now. I’ll probably do something silly like…dancing…wait…..woaaaa….double…double rainbow all the way……

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