Sunday 23 January 2011
Though I'm sure you're all well accustomed to the new year by now, the end of January, it is my pleasure to welcome to you to 2011 with a cheerful "Buon Anno". Yesterday, all the juniors took the SAT exams; we were in the school from 7:45 until 1:08, so right now both my thoughts are the song I'm listening to are Mamma Mia! (Yes, I am unashamedly punny this year...well, let's try for this month)
The new year has shed an entirely new light on my time here in Italy. It is now crystal clear, for example, that I will be leaving this year, not the far off promise of "sometime next summer" but the reminder that departure is a few months away, I have been here over half of my allotted year. It's hard to focus on these details when I'm whirled up in the hectic school day, always concentrating on the next immediate thing, but as I sit here in this comfortable bedroom on a sunday, calmly sipping my blueberry tea, I have the time and capacity to think about these things. Of course, there are still school deadlines tugging at my composed conscious, but the history project, edits to a scene analysis and math test studying will just have to wait
Another detail easy to mull over after the SATs (yes, I would know, I've taken them many times and still have pent up bitterness over that fact) is college. The stressful, nail-biting, hair-pulling thoughts about college and "the future" and "a career" have been lurking on a not-so-distant horizon for a while now, but only recently has our college advisor talked to us directly about meeting with her to discuss our options.
Lastly, I've been asked before and I'll be asked again, "where d'you want to go?!?"
I'm not telling.
The end.
domenica 23 gennaio 2011
mercoledì 29 dicembre 2010
Productivity and Potential
Wednesday December 29, 2010 Day 125
It seems that I am remarkably productive when I have nothing to do, no obligations to fill, and no deadlines to meet. For the first time ever, I am completely up to date on all my blog posts. There are no more that I have written, lying about unpublished, this is the most recent. I type these words not into a document to be selected later but directly into the format of the blog itself.
Yesterday, I was supposed to pick up my biological family from the train station they would arrive at after leaving the airport. Unfortunately, this became impossible when I was informed, two days ago by phone, that Massachusetts already had 60 centimetres of snow and it wasn't stopping anytime soon. The flight was, of course, cancelled.
This left/leaves me in quite the dilemma. Literally every single other student in the programme is gone, a handful back in the United States, some in France, Scotland, England, or travelling around other parts of Italy. I am too far away from town to walk (it's about 5 kilometres/3 miles) and while I could walk it, it's impractical and dangerous to return in the dark. My host mother tells me it's too dangerous for me to have a bicycle in these parts, so I really have no means of transportation. The bus is what usually trasports me but during the holiday season it comes infrequently if at all.
Because of these shortcomings I've been spending a lot of time inside. Writing and drawing have captivated my interest. I've resumed writing my novel, it's now at 21667, I'm writing in the blog now and last night, around 1:30am when I was trying to sleep, I had an idea I needed to get out so I switched on the light, grabbed my computer and typed out everything that was on my mind into an essay called "Potential" (I'll post it in the next post). Additionally, I've taken up drawing. It's very peculiar, apart from simple shell painting or necessary drawing in art classes five years ago, I don't draw. My brother was always the most artistically inclined of the family, littering the house with his creations since the age of four or five. Drawing never could hold my attention for longer than a few minutes. Now, however, because there is nothing else for me to do I began sketching in a free notebook and on that one day, the 27th, I completed five different pieces or varied styles. If you're interested they can be found on the potential post here. (Even if you're not interested, they're still there.)
I'll probably just go on drawing and writing, it would't hurt to get a little bit more in touch with my artistic side. I'm alone in the house right now, my mother's out for a few hours and I'm about to go make myself some lunch. Yesterday she warned me that she would leave and that I would have to prepare food all by myself. An hour or so ago she showed me over and over a pot of water, a bowl of pasta and a contained of pesto, instructing me that I must first boil the water then drop in the pasta, then wait and then strain it and dress it with pesto, all the while with a dubious expression on her face as though sure this couldn't work. I think I'll take a stab at it.
On a final note, due to the delay, my family found another flight at a different airport and they are scheduled to arrive in Rome on the 31st, and I am to take a train and meet them there, something I'm a bit wary of, as public transportation and I have never been good friends,but oh well, we'll just see what happens. If I never post again, please assume that I've fallen victim to the convoluted system of the subway and metro and have been dragged under to live out the rest of my days in slave labour crafting artificial flowers while I slowly go blind and mad.
Much love, Thalia
It seems that I am remarkably productive when I have nothing to do, no obligations to fill, and no deadlines to meet. For the first time ever, I am completely up to date on all my blog posts. There are no more that I have written, lying about unpublished, this is the most recent. I type these words not into a document to be selected later but directly into the format of the blog itself.
Yesterday, I was supposed to pick up my biological family from the train station they would arrive at after leaving the airport. Unfortunately, this became impossible when I was informed, two days ago by phone, that Massachusetts already had 60 centimetres of snow and it wasn't stopping anytime soon. The flight was, of course, cancelled.
This left/leaves me in quite the dilemma. Literally every single other student in the programme is gone, a handful back in the United States, some in France, Scotland, England, or travelling around other parts of Italy. I am too far away from town to walk (it's about 5 kilometres/3 miles) and while I could walk it, it's impractical and dangerous to return in the dark. My host mother tells me it's too dangerous for me to have a bicycle in these parts, so I really have no means of transportation. The bus is what usually trasports me but during the holiday season it comes infrequently if at all.
Because of these shortcomings I've been spending a lot of time inside. Writing and drawing have captivated my interest. I've resumed writing my novel, it's now at 21667, I'm writing in the blog now and last night, around 1:30am when I was trying to sleep, I had an idea I needed to get out so I switched on the light, grabbed my computer and typed out everything that was on my mind into an essay called "Potential" (I'll post it in the next post). Additionally, I've taken up drawing. It's very peculiar, apart from simple shell painting or necessary drawing in art classes five years ago, I don't draw. My brother was always the most artistically inclined of the family, littering the house with his creations since the age of four or five. Drawing never could hold my attention for longer than a few minutes. Now, however, because there is nothing else for me to do I began sketching in a free notebook and on that one day, the 27th, I completed five different pieces or varied styles. If you're interested they can be found on the potential post here. (Even if you're not interested, they're still there.)
I'll probably just go on drawing and writing, it would't hurt to get a little bit more in touch with my artistic side. I'm alone in the house right now, my mother's out for a few hours and I'm about to go make myself some lunch. Yesterday she warned me that she would leave and that I would have to prepare food all by myself. An hour or so ago she showed me over and over a pot of water, a bowl of pasta and a contained of pesto, instructing me that I must first boil the water then drop in the pasta, then wait and then strain it and dress it with pesto, all the while with a dubious expression on her face as though sure this couldn't work. I think I'll take a stab at it.
On a final note, due to the delay, my family found another flight at a different airport and they are scheduled to arrive in Rome on the 31st, and I am to take a train and meet them there, something I'm a bit wary of, as public transportation and I have never been good friends,but oh well, we'll just see what happens. If I never post again, please assume that I've fallen victim to the convoluted system of the subway and metro and have been dragged under to live out the rest of my days in slave labour crafting artificial flowers while I slowly go blind and mad.
Much love, Thalia
"Potential" and Artwork
Enjoy.
Potential
Growing up, whenever I got a paper, essay, project or analysis back, I would first look to the grade, usually scrawled on top in the omnipresent bad handwriting of English teachers. I had an unquestioned and unexamined belief that if the grade was less then 100 then I had messed up. Following this belief, or perhaps even the predecessor of it was the belief that if I tried hard enough, I would be rewarded with the highest grade. My score was directly proportionate on the amount of effort I put into the work. When I received 70s I was upset but not surprised, telling myself that I must not have worked hard enough, even flashing back to my working periods and admitting that I had not been efficient or even particularly laborious. When I saw that I had achieved high grades, 90s, I felt proud not (I realise now) because of the evaluation of the teacher, but the confirmation that I had indeed worked hard enough, I was sufficient.
It is currently in the wee hours of the morning on December 29, 2010, and I recently had a revelation while trying to sleep. A week ago, I received back a graded analysis, one I had done for Art History, a new subject, but not something I was unaccustomed to. Perhaps it was because my grades had always averaged around the B+/A- range, but seeing the red, circled 76 at the top was more distressing that I had thought. Everyone is stressed around the holidays and many priorities are shifted, and I am no different, certain homework took a backseat, which may have explained the grade, but this paper, and Art History in general, had been high on my priority list that week.
In vain I tried to add up how this could be. I am, unfortunately, no stranger to receiving poor marks, but as mentioned I could always previously attribute them to a reason. Every effect had a logical, explainable cause. Here, I ran into a problem. I distinctly remembered working hard on the analysis. I’d even changed topics early on to produce a stronger piece of work. I’d spent hours typing the three sheets of paper that now lay in my hands, bearing the disfiguring mark of the 76. I’d discarded several accompanying pictures because I believed the quality to be too low and had persisted until I found high quality examples to attach. I used my brief Internet time to send an excerpt to my friend for her edits and advice, all of which were positive, and now this? It didn’t sense to me then, and it wasn’t until now, a full week later that some part of my subconscious figured it out.
In order to understand my grade, such a menial part of my life, I had to dig deeply in myself and examine the truth in laws I didn’t even acknowledge as existing, so deeply were they hardwired into me. It was only then, that is to say, now, that I realised my previous faith and adherence to this law. In discovery I realised also that there must be other laws in me, uncharted and unmapped, but by whose effects and words I lived everyday. The thought was scary, and also fascinating. Even now I don’t know if it was mere folly that guided me to trust that my effort would always reward me, and vice versa, but there must be a reason I believed, or was led to believe such, and it will take a great deal of cartography to discover the other laws.
In the end, if I step back and examine my situation, I was making a mountain out of a molehill by worrying about my grade, but it is the nature of my definite rejection of the evaluation that was the mountain. It was, in some ways, much more fruitful to receive this 76 than a grade that my effort would have said, was fair.
sabato 25 dicembre 2010
Christmas Post?
Presents or not, tree or not, America or not, sanity or not, it’s still Christmas. (all of those were “not” incidentally). Yes, I write this at 5:38 Pm on the 25th of December. I promise I’m not fishing for pity by brining up my (lack of) Christmas, but I would like to talk a bit more about it.
I wrote a Christmas list this year, something that I’ve been doing on and off for about 6 years, and I’d like to share it.
Christmas List
Things I left at home
-Grey Leggings with Zippers
-Black Leggings with Zippers
-Red sweater that Tamika’s grandmother knitted for me (probably in my closet)
-Black tank top that we purchased shortly before leaving
-Any other BIG sweaters. Really big, as in any ones you don’t use that I could have
-Warm gloves
-Knitting Needles and Yarn
(Hopefully) Easy to obtain items:
-Peanut Butter
-Heat protectant spray
-$10 earbuds from Walmart or Target (long story short, the cat ate mine)
-Mechanical pencils and a pencil sharpener
-Advil
-As many New Yorker magazines as you can bear to part with
Songs:
Skinny Genes by Eliza Doolittle
Ke$ha’s albums
“This is Me” (album name) by Charlie McDonnell
Hometown Glory by Adele
Waka Waka and Loca both by Shakira
Leaving Town by Dexter Freebish
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Bella’s Lullaby by Carter Burwell
Halo and I Hate This Part both by the PCD
Twist In My Sobriety by Tanita Tikaram
Prince Negaafellaga - Introduction (Feat.Starcrimes,A-Million)
Firework by Katy Perry
Mondo by Cesare Cremonini
Pensa by Fabrizio Moro
Insane, We Made You, Same Song and Dance, Old Times Sake by Eminem
Real Wish List Items!:
A piano keyboard so I can practice
New yarn to knit with
There it is. I organised it into the three categories I deemed most appropriate, and it wasn’t until I’d reread it that I realised something strange. Usually my “Real Wish List Items” is the longest part of the list. I usually have to restrain myself from putting down everything I want for fear of looking greedy. This year, the two items under the last category were actually the hardest to thing of. I had to think hard before I came up with them and while I was typing them I was already realising how I could cope without.
It was then that I discovered what should have been obvious for ages. I didn’t really need any of them. The majority of the items were things that would help in obvious ways, such as sweaters for warmth, or clothes I’d forgotten or even peanut butter which (like the concept of home internet) hasn’t become popular in Italy. I miss my New Yorker subscription, but not my Seventeen and Teen Vogue subscriptions. Advil and Pencils just make everyday life a little bit easier and I while I could purchase them here I happen to know that they’re cheaper in the states. And that’s it.
I don’t know whether this emotional separation form material goods is a good things, a bad thing, or even a permanent change. It may be that next Christmas my “Real Wish List Items” will make up the majority of the list and I won’t know what I was thinking this year. Similarly, I can see the pros and cons of this change. It is good in the way that I’m spending less money, and thinking very down-to-earth-ly and many religions that separation from material goods in the noble, pure way of life.
On the other hand, it’s rather depressing. This evening, for example, I am in a dark, empty house. I’m alone, and I turned off the lights to save energy. My Christmas list consists of two things and it would hardly even be an inconvenience if I didn’t get them.
On the other foot, my entire attitude might change when I see my family. Yes, I forgot to mention that, but my nuclear family is flying in on the 27th to see me here. Delightful. (!)
How meeting up is going to work out when they’re not entirely sure where the train stops and can’t call me once they’re out of the country, who knows.
Best wishes, i miei migliori auguri, Thalia
I wrote a Christmas list this year, something that I’ve been doing on and off for about 6 years, and I’d like to share it.
Christmas List
Things I left at home
-Grey Leggings with Zippers
-Black Leggings with Zippers
-Red sweater that Tamika’s grandmother knitted for me (probably in my closet)
-Black tank top that we purchased shortly before leaving
-Any other BIG sweaters. Really big, as in any ones you don’t use that I could have
-Warm gloves
-Knitting Needles and Yarn
(Hopefully) Easy to obtain items:
-Peanut Butter
-Heat protectant spray
-$10 earbuds from Walmart or Target (long story short, the cat ate mine)
-Mechanical pencils and a pencil sharpener
-Advil
-As many New Yorker magazines as you can bear to part with
Songs:
Skinny Genes by Eliza Doolittle
Ke$ha’s albums
“This is Me” (album name) by Charlie McDonnell
Hometown Glory by Adele
Waka Waka and Loca both by Shakira
Leaving Town by Dexter Freebish
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Bella’s Lullaby by Carter Burwell
Halo and I Hate This Part both by the PCD
Twist In My Sobriety by Tanita Tikaram
Prince Negaafellaga - Introduction (Feat.Starcrimes,A-Million)
Firework by Katy Perry
Mondo by Cesare Cremonini
Pensa by Fabrizio Moro
Insane, We Made You, Same Song and Dance, Old Times Sake by Eminem
Real Wish List Items!:
A piano keyboard so I can practice
New yarn to knit with
There it is. I organised it into the three categories I deemed most appropriate, and it wasn’t until I’d reread it that I realised something strange. Usually my “Real Wish List Items” is the longest part of the list. I usually have to restrain myself from putting down everything I want for fear of looking greedy. This year, the two items under the last category were actually the hardest to thing of. I had to think hard before I came up with them and while I was typing them I was already realising how I could cope without.
It was then that I discovered what should have been obvious for ages. I didn’t really need any of them. The majority of the items were things that would help in obvious ways, such as sweaters for warmth, or clothes I’d forgotten or even peanut butter which (like the concept of home internet) hasn’t become popular in Italy. I miss my New Yorker subscription, but not my Seventeen and Teen Vogue subscriptions. Advil and Pencils just make everyday life a little bit easier and I while I could purchase them here I happen to know that they’re cheaper in the states. And that’s it.
I don’t know whether this emotional separation form material goods is a good things, a bad thing, or even a permanent change. It may be that next Christmas my “Real Wish List Items” will make up the majority of the list and I won’t know what I was thinking this year. Similarly, I can see the pros and cons of this change. It is good in the way that I’m spending less money, and thinking very down-to-earth-ly and many religions that separation from material goods in the noble, pure way of life.
On the other hand, it’s rather depressing. This evening, for example, I am in a dark, empty house. I’m alone, and I turned off the lights to save energy. My Christmas list consists of two things and it would hardly even be an inconvenience if I didn’t get them.
On the other foot, my entire attitude might change when I see my family. Yes, I forgot to mention that, but my nuclear family is flying in on the 27th to see me here. Delightful. (!)
How meeting up is going to work out when they’re not entirely sure where the train stops and can’t call me once they’re out of the country, who knows.
Best wishes, i miei migliori auguri, Thalia
Finire
Thursday, December 23, 2010 Day 119
Well, I’m finally finished. Finished in every sense of the word. When I erroneously uttered the phrase “sono finita”, translating literally “I’m finished” to mean that I was done with my food, my host mother gave me a puzzled look before bursting out into peals of laughter. Finally, she choked out a “no si fa in Italia”, you don’t say that in Italy. Clearly, ho sbagliato (I messed up). Not so clearly however, what did I actually say? And while we’re on the question topic, how does one say “I’m finished” without making an ass of oneself? Lastly, does one sound too ridiculously pretentious when saying “oneself?”
Through a method of madness, studying, and guesswork, I have figured out the answers to all these questions.
They are
1. “I am utterly exhausted, spent, so tired I could fall asleep in my minestrone soup bowl”
2. “Ho finito”
3. Usually
I am utterly exhausted. I am sick and I’ve been up and about all day, my legs are so glad to be still that I’ve been sitting in the (awkward) yoga frog position merely because I don’t want to take the trouble to move my legs.
I have finished. I finished my crostada and strawberries with sugar a few minutes, and more importantly, I finished all my Christmas shopping.
Shopping this year was different than it has been any other year. Firstly, I’d had my friends’ presents purchased for almost a month and I was mostly shopping for my family, that is, my host family. The main difference is that I’ve never had a host family, and shopping for someone you live with yet have only known for four months is a bit odd. Another difference is that I wasn’t entirely what type of gift was appropriate which was a problem because
1. It’s usually difficult for me to think of good presents for people
2. Italy is a different culture and things I may think are perfect may seem impolite or confusing here
3. I don’t know if my mother needs anything and if it is in my budget and ability to procure it for her
4. I can’t ask her as my Italian is still rudimentary
And, most important of all
5. I recently discovered that my mother doesn’t celebrate Christmas.
I realise that in our ever-changing world (sorry to use a cliché) it is less and less unusual to find someone whose religious beliefs are different from your own, however, I’ll admit that it was still a shock for me when I found out.
As Italy is so Catholic, and there is an omnipresent bible near my mother’s chair at dinner, I automatically assumed she was Catholic, but as she told me two days ago, she is a Jehovah’s Witness.
The extent of my knowledge about Jehovah’s Witnesses was that Michael Jackson’s family members were Witnesses. As of now I still know very little, except that it’s a small Christian sect, founded in the US, that preaches the Second Coming Of Christ, but does not believe in Christ’s divinity.
I’m still confused but very content to be finished.
Have a lovely day
x
Well, I’m finally finished. Finished in every sense of the word. When I erroneously uttered the phrase “sono finita”, translating literally “I’m finished” to mean that I was done with my food, my host mother gave me a puzzled look before bursting out into peals of laughter. Finally, she choked out a “no si fa in Italia”, you don’t say that in Italy. Clearly, ho sbagliato (I messed up). Not so clearly however, what did I actually say? And while we’re on the question topic, how does one say “I’m finished” without making an ass of oneself? Lastly, does one sound too ridiculously pretentious when saying “oneself?”
Through a method of madness, studying, and guesswork, I have figured out the answers to all these questions.
They are
1. “I am utterly exhausted, spent, so tired I could fall asleep in my minestrone soup bowl”
2. “Ho finito”
3. Usually
I am utterly exhausted. I am sick and I’ve been up and about all day, my legs are so glad to be still that I’ve been sitting in the (awkward) yoga frog position merely because I don’t want to take the trouble to move my legs.
I have finished. I finished my crostada and strawberries with sugar a few minutes, and more importantly, I finished all my Christmas shopping.
Shopping this year was different than it has been any other year. Firstly, I’d had my friends’ presents purchased for almost a month and I was mostly shopping for my family, that is, my host family. The main difference is that I’ve never had a host family, and shopping for someone you live with yet have only known for four months is a bit odd. Another difference is that I wasn’t entirely what type of gift was appropriate which was a problem because
1. It’s usually difficult for me to think of good presents for people
2. Italy is a different culture and things I may think are perfect may seem impolite or confusing here
3. I don’t know if my mother needs anything and if it is in my budget and ability to procure it for her
4. I can’t ask her as my Italian is still rudimentary
And, most important of all
5. I recently discovered that my mother doesn’t celebrate Christmas.
I realise that in our ever-changing world (sorry to use a cliché) it is less and less unusual to find someone whose religious beliefs are different from your own, however, I’ll admit that it was still a shock for me when I found out.
As Italy is so Catholic, and there is an omnipresent bible near my mother’s chair at dinner, I automatically assumed she was Catholic, but as she told me two days ago, she is a Jehovah’s Witness.
The extent of my knowledge about Jehovah’s Witnesses was that Michael Jackson’s family members were Witnesses. As of now I still know very little, except that it’s a small Christian sect, founded in the US, that preaches the Second Coming Of Christ, but does not believe in Christ’s divinity.
I’m still confused but very content to be finished.
Have a lovely day
x
An Explanation Post
Saturday, December 11, 2010 Day 107
Alrighty, it’s pretty clear that I have some explaining to do. Allow me to address some FAQ
Q: Why has the blog been down? There haven’t been any posts lately.
A: Yes, I know, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t figure out how to post anymore. It was working and then the next time I tried, niente. Admittedly I could have figured it out earlier had I put more effort and time into trying, but the layout was in Italian and I have so little time on the internet that I usually attack it and things like the blog fall into a giant, scary pit of “Things I should be doing, and I’m sure that I will do one day.” However, I have delved into that pit and managed to fish out the blog. Sorry again, and thanks for the welcome back :P
Q: Why are there no posts for November, you horrible, horrible promise -breaking witch of person?
A: Well… you see, the thing about November is that it’s really a demanding month. Not only did the school whisk us away to Umbria for 5 days, but the director took away my computer for a week. Oh and I was trying to write a novel. All these things make for no time to write blog posts. I’m not even sorry about this one, I felt guilty about the first question but I can deal with this one.
Q: Oh, well then, did you write your novel?
A: This certainly is embarrassing, but no, no I did not. I strongly suspect that it is due to the school trip and lack-of-computer, but no, I did not finish my novel. I still have a plot format in my head and I believe I am tossing my draft into aforementioned pit. It is currently at 19,336 words.
Q: When are you coming back to America?
A: :x. I’m afraid I can’t say much on that subject. There’s a chance of around 70% that I’ll be back at the end of May, 2011.
Phew, feels good to get all that off my chest. Carefree as a bee, that’s me. If I weren’t crazily allergic to bees I’d take that as my motto. No. That’s not the reason I’m not adopting it as my motto.
Motto sounds like “matto “
Which means crazy
Bee is “ape”
hee hee, word confusion.
Ciao!
Tally
PS. I totally made up the date on top, I’m not sure what time this was intended for!
Alrighty, it’s pretty clear that I have some explaining to do. Allow me to address some FAQ
Q: Why has the blog been down? There haven’t been any posts lately.
A: Yes, I know, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t figure out how to post anymore. It was working and then the next time I tried, niente. Admittedly I could have figured it out earlier had I put more effort and time into trying, but the layout was in Italian and I have so little time on the internet that I usually attack it and things like the blog fall into a giant, scary pit of “Things I should be doing, and I’m sure that I will do one day.” However, I have delved into that pit and managed to fish out the blog. Sorry again, and thanks for the welcome back :P
Q: Why are there no posts for November, you horrible, horrible promise -breaking witch of person?
A: Well… you see, the thing about November is that it’s really a demanding month. Not only did the school whisk us away to Umbria for 5 days, but the director took away my computer for a week. Oh and I was trying to write a novel. All these things make for no time to write blog posts. I’m not even sorry about this one, I felt guilty about the first question but I can deal with this one.
Q: Oh, well then, did you write your novel?
A: This certainly is embarrassing, but no, no I did not. I strongly suspect that it is due to the school trip and lack-of-computer, but no, I did not finish my novel. I still have a plot format in my head and I believe I am tossing my draft into aforementioned pit. It is currently at 19,336 words.
Q: When are you coming back to America?
A: :x. I’m afraid I can’t say much on that subject. There’s a chance of around 70% that I’ll be back at the end of May, 2011.
Phew, feels good to get all that off my chest. Carefree as a bee, that’s me. If I weren’t crazily allergic to bees I’d take that as my motto. No. That’s not the reason I’m not adopting it as my motto.
Motto sounds like “matto “
Which means crazy
Bee is “ape”
hee hee, word confusion.
Ciao!
Tally
PS. I totally made up the date on top, I’m not sure what time this was intended for!
Saturday Soup Kitchen
Sunday, October 31, 2010 Day 66
On Saturday, October the 30th , yesterday, another student I helped out in the local soup kitchen. I’ve always been interested in volunteering, and have often participated, but I had always contributed through something else. When I helped it was usually through another organization, such as a school, a Girl Scout troupe or extra-curricular. This time, I washed the food, watched it go in the oven and then ladled it out into bowls for people. Real, living, breathing people. Not the dry offhand comment of “the less fortunate” uttered once and then forgotten when the conversation turns to ethics or politics, but real relatable people. Women with creases around their eyes that smiled and worried in equal measure, a few children, impatient and indignant as I remember being and some men who merely approached us with a tray, ate inconspicuously and then left as if they’d never been there.
The staff workers themselves were very agreeable and, with the exception of one old woman who seemed to dislike us (understandable as we didn’t know what to do and our language skills are still shaky), welcomed us as family. Taylor Kendrick (the other student, find out more here) speaks very little (*cough cough* no) Italian so I had to communicate for both of us. I discovered, to my surprise and happiness that I had few problems getting my point across.
After a good 5 hours of work, they invited us to eat with them. It was a friendly gesture and when we had to leave they welcomed us to come back whenever we could. Once everyone gets a chance to volunteer I’ll definitely volunteer to go again.
That’s all for now
xx
On Saturday, October the 30th , yesterday, another student I helped out in the local soup kitchen. I’ve always been interested in volunteering, and have often participated, but I had always contributed through something else. When I helped it was usually through another organization, such as a school, a Girl Scout troupe or extra-curricular. This time, I washed the food, watched it go in the oven and then ladled it out into bowls for people. Real, living, breathing people. Not the dry offhand comment of “the less fortunate” uttered once and then forgotten when the conversation turns to ethics or politics, but real relatable people. Women with creases around their eyes that smiled and worried in equal measure, a few children, impatient and indignant as I remember being and some men who merely approached us with a tray, ate inconspicuously and then left as if they’d never been there.
The staff workers themselves were very agreeable and, with the exception of one old woman who seemed to dislike us (understandable as we didn’t know what to do and our language skills are still shaky), welcomed us as family. Taylor Kendrick (the other student, find out more here) speaks very little (*cough cough* no) Italian so I had to communicate for both of us. I discovered, to my surprise and happiness that I had few problems getting my point across.
After a good 5 hours of work, they invited us to eat with them. It was a friendly gesture and when we had to leave they welcomed us to come back whenever we could. Once everyone gets a chance to volunteer I’ll definitely volunteer to go again.
That’s all for now
xx
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