I'm in an internet store (can't really call this a cafe, although there is a freestanding espresso machine here that resembles a Sparkletts water cooler) and the Florentine bells are ringing behind me. I waver between being very alone and at a loss with what to do with myself, and then totally distracted that the throngs of tourists worsen the terrible sense of humidity. This morning in my building Sade's "At Your Side" and then Lauryn Hill and Bob Marley's "Turn Your Lights Down Low" was blaring out of a neighbor's window. I wondered why that was; must be another foreign resident in the complex. But at night all I hear are Italian voices as people trod up the hollow-sounding stairway after a night of disco dancing. So, I'm still puzzling out where I am and how to receive it.
I've already befriended strange Italian men, and was both diplomatic and a liar in deflecting their generally innocuous and kind offers of companionship. "Thank you for your help and kindness," and "Yes, I'll give you a call when my phone is connected." Not only was my phone connected from the start, but my aunt gave me a cell phone to use. It's another part of the Luh family radar tagging system, whatever you call what they do to bears and pandas in order to film National Geographic specials.
But, I'm being bratty. Naturally, I am completely happy and pleased with the setup.
I have lots of stories to tell and miss home, a bit. Mostly American television. This morning I watched Italian "Wheel of Fortune" and just thought the whole thing to be ridiculous. If anybody asked for an L, T, or N, most of the word was already spelled out. There are so many double letters in Italian words. Things like J, K, Q, X, W - none of this shit exists, and then there is a very limited use of other letters like H. Plus, I actually missed Pat Sajak because the host was some decrepit old fart who could not even stand up for the final round.
Then I was forced to watch "Roswell" in Italian, and I marvelled at how intolerable it is to see things dubbed.
Aside from these two annoyances, I could not be happier. At 5:00 AM I had jet lag so I hopped out into the Piazza by myself and then ended up sitting on the bridge, Ponte Vecchio, listening to my mini-disc player. There was no better time to feel like I completely owned the town. Around 6:00 I wandered into a bar to get a cafè and the barman asked me if I had been sitting on the bridge; he saw me on his way to opening the shop. It was a nice, pleasant, small-town experience.
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 8:19 AM
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