Friday and Saturday (sorry if it's a bit long)

Friday 17^th September

I woke up early again today, for reasons that you will already know. I finished my biology homework and then went off to biology. We carried on looking at cells and compared animal and plant cells. In history we continued looking at treaties instigated by Bismarck and then what happened when Bismarck was fired by Kaiser Wilhelm II and the decline towards war. We carried on looking at poems in English, although this time it was a bit cheesier as we were looking at moon poems. We looked at ‘Sad Steps’ by Philip Larkin and it was an alright poem, as at least it wasn’t going on about how romantic the moon is or anything like that, but it just didn’t seem to float my boat, as they say.

At break I got another sandwich to make up for the absence of breakfast (firstly I don’t want to get any of the bugs that travel round college so quickly, so I try to avoid shared cutlery and bowls etc, secondly after this there is only bread. And they recently changed the bread to a really dry type. I need to get myself my own crockery and cutlery). We sheltered under a tree as we ate our sandwiches, due to the torrential rain that was hammering down upon us, and had been since last night. After this I went to the last lesson of the day, Italian, where we looked at the daily routine. Viviana told us that she was going to be teaching a workshop next week on the 23^rd and 24^th so we have our Italian lessons then off. At the end of the lesson she asked a few of us to stay behind and said about (and she had already said this in assembly on Monday, but it was mainly for secondi, so I didn’t listen too much) this conference thing in a monastery in Tuscany, which was focusing on Europe and Africa. Basically the college gets invited every year and the college hadn’t had enough secondi from Europe to volunteer to go, so she was asking us. She said to email by three that afternoon (as in Friday afternoon) and naturally I forgot to. I also don’t know her email, as we haven’t received the college address books yet… But still, it was annoying when I remembered the day after that I never emailed. On the other hand it was all going to be in Italian so maybe next year I would be able to enjoy it more… It was incredibly strange to hear Viviana speaking English, though, as apart from that one assembly I’ve never heard her say anything than a few words in English.

I got back to Fore in the day room to find Raza (my room-mate from Mauritius) cooking. We had talked about this last night, that Raza was going to cook for our room, last night, but I didn’t really imagine it happening. As he was doing this I checked my emails and facebook etc only to find that my legs were ridiculously painful due to mosquito bites. Counting only the bites on my legs I found 17 bites. I took solace in watching the latest Mock the Week on youtube. People joined me and then subsequently walked away as they realised there was not a hope in hell that they could ever understand any of the references or the type of humour used. Also, as I was watching this for some reason I typed in a word into the dictionary on my laptop, which is something I have been doing a lot recently as people ask me words in English that I have never heard before. And partly because I’ve been speaking to Davide quite a bit, who always thinks about the origins and asks me about the origins of English words, but also because the dictionary tells you the origins, it really is fascinating finding out the origins. The word I typed in then was ‘pining’ – partly because I thought of the Monty Python sketch with the dead parrot, another shining example of British humour, but also because it was quite an appropriate feeling. This is what the dictionary told me: ‘Old English pīnian [(cause to) suffer,] of Germanic origin; related to Dutch pijnen, German peinen ‘experience pain,’ also to obsolete pine [punishment] ; ultimately based on Latin poena ‘punishment’ I find that quite interesting… After that interlude, in the end it was just Raza, Emma (Raza has a French passport and his mother tongue is French, and he was selected by the French UWC national committee, so Emma is his co-year, from near Bordeaux) and I who ate a rather delicious omelette.

I then went to get my passport from the school office in the expectation that I was going to go to emisfero and get a sim card for my old phone, which I am currently using as an alarm (indispensable, I can turn this phone off every night and it will always turn itself back on for the alarm) and a timepiece. On the way back, I met Virginia, from Italy, and Emma, who I had about half an hour ago had lunch with. They were on their way to emisfero so I quickly ran to the room, got my bag and ever-growing shopping list, and went to join them.

At the supermarket, one of the many things on my list was ‘biscuits’. But then I realised, ‘why am I buying biscuits that, in all honesty, I probably won’t like that much, when I could be making some?’ After buying some essentials, such as a mini drying rack to hang on our radiator (the problem with having shared drying racks in the corridors is that people can all too easily walk away with your clothes, especially socks. So this solves this problem). The worst thing is that everything is SO expensive. Like for example those canvas sort of shoes that you can get in Primark for about £3, and up to £10 everywhere else, are €25. And just in general most things are about 20% more expensive than in the UK. So much for a weak Eurozone. Although at least the sim card was only €5.

Speaking to Virginia on the bus the common topic of Berlusconi arrived again. I told Virginia how when you say ‘Italy’ to people in the UK, as well as food, history and art, one of the main things you think is ‘Berlusconi’. She was most embarrassed. Emma, it turns out, is actually the youngest student here, at only 15. Although mentally she is definitely older, as she moved up school years in France when about 8 or 9, so she’s always had her peers slightly older. I think it would be more difficult if there was a fifteen year-old who wasn’t used to being educated with older people, or on the other extreme a twenty year old, as there is a definite gap between people at this age. Really it depends on the education system of each country, for example the Italians are all seventeen as they finish a certain number of years of high school before going to a UWC, whereas from the UK we are pretty much all 16 (apart from Scotland, where they’re 17 as they do their highers) as most of us have just done GCSEs.

After tidying my room out for a bit and sorting out my new purchases I went downstairs to the day room, which was positively dead, so I decided to take out the recycling, which is my college service (actually as primi, our college service isn’t supposed to start until the second term, but I’m nice). I bumped into Francesco on the way and we went back to Fore to play card games. In the end we were joined by Salsabeel (prima, Bangladesh), Alex (secondo, Belgium), Julia (prima, Netherlands), Seva (prima, Lithuania), Esther (seconda, France) and a bit later Gabriel, my British secondo from Wales.

The first game we played was one called ‘flags’. Basically you play in partners sitting somewhere across the table from you, but not directly opposite. You are each dealt four cards and then 5 more cards are placed faced up on the table. The aim is then to swap the cards on the table for yours in order to get four of the same suit or 4 of a sequence in the same suit. When you have it you do your sign (for example yawning or scratching your nose) that you agreed with your partner in secret, and if you see your partner doing it you have to shout ‘flags!’ If someone else sees then you’re effectively busted, and they can shout ‘flags!’ If they get it wrong you carry on as normal. I wasn’t particularly good at this game as I was so focussed on my own cards I kept on forgetting to look at my partner (Salsabeel) who began to get a bit peeved at my lack of observation. The next game we played was just as bad for me. You have three cards and then you pass one round and look at it and you have to try and get four of the same suit or a sequence like in Flags. We played two variations: one when you have a set you place your hand in the middle of the table, the other when you put your finger on your nose. Both of these were extremely funny, not least because I was almost always the last one to notice, and then I realised that everyone else had been staring at me for the last thirty seconds…

The reason Gabriel had come to see me was at first to ask if I wanted to come to his residence for a pizza that evening. I ordered with the seconda from Slovenia (but I cant remember her name) and about an hour later I went with many of the Italian primi to old offices. Basically the residents of old offices (all twelve of them, and in fact only about four of them were there anyway) were hosting a pizza night to try and liven the place up for once. It was really nice, and the margherita pizza was only €3, and not bad either, compared to British standards. I also learnt this really weird game-thing that seems to be quite popular, and there must be a name for it, it’s basically where you have your cup and then you bang and clap in a funny order and pass the cup to the next person, and you take the person to your other side’s cup. It’s really hard to explain, but I think it might be a German tradition, as when I was on the trip to Nancy (Newcastle’s twin city) with the city council in July, it was all the German young people who were doing it. Hmm…

We then went to the residence Ples for a bit, but really there’s not much there apart from a large kitchen (no day room), so we went back to Fore. After a yoghurt, Raza suggested going for a walk down to Porto in the storm (it was raining, but relatively warm - and fun) so Raza, Zaid, Josh (who we picked up on the way) and I went for a little walk which was really fun actually. We dropped a present off for Raza’s EE friend on the way at the residence Luchese, where I got to have a look round the grandest residence. Basically an EE friend is where every primo/a selects a secondo/a from a list to be their ‘EE friend’. You then write to your secondo/a and give little gifts such as chocolate to encourage them with their EE (extended essay). It’s a nice tradition, but rather annoyingly someone else (Job) thought that my secondo (Gilbert from Uganda) was his secondo so he started writing to Gilbert. So now I haven’t got anyone…

We got back after the walk to find that a scorpion had been killed in the corridor outside our room, which is always a nice surprise. After checking the internet I went to bed for a relatively early night (at about 12) and watched the Thick of It. To be honest there would never be any point in trying to show it to anyone else but Gabriel, as the amount of satire, irony and sarcasm (and when I say sarcasm I don’t mean the really obvious American one, I mean the witty British one) is incomprehensible to most people. Also most people wouldn’t get the political references, not to mention the Scottish accents and the speed of the voices. Anyway, the Thick of It is always nice when you have any feelings of homesickness (which weren’t actually much), as there is not much else funnier, in my opinion (so humble it is). After that I just lay in the dark for a while, watching the lightning light up my room every other minute. Beautiful.

Saturday 19^th Septembeer

So much for a weekend lie-in: Raza was going to Trieste for the weekend, staying the night with his grandparents in a hotel. Instead of packing earlier he decided to pack at 8.30 in the morning, waking us all up. Although Zaid had already gone to Venice for the second trip (and how glad I was I went last weekend, as even though I was ill, the weather was so much better then). Also note how Zaid doesn’t wake us up whereas Raza does… Although in fairness to Raza I know that he is pretty homesick at the moment, so if he can get a bit comforted from seeing his grandparents then it is worth us losing a few hours of sleep. Also Gabriele and I decided to use this unexpected time to make (argh – I am picking up the habit of non-native English speakers of using the verb ‘to make’ for everything) a trip to Trieste. So we went for the eleven o clock bus, where we bumped into Pete, the Yorkshireman who’s come to here from the UWC in Norway for a year’s change. At least we could sympathise and be British together by taking about the horrendous weather. Anyway, it was really interesting speaking on the bus and finding out about Pete and his life in Norway, which he now considers his home after being there for nine years. It was also really interesting learning about how much they value skills in Norway, for example a friend was given a grant by the Norwegian government to finish her nurse training she had started but never finished twenty five years ago, at the age of fifty. And it was also a viable option for him to work in a petrol station in Norway on his year off from RCN (Red Cross Nordic, it’s the name of the UWC in Norway) as the pay is so high. He’s taking a twenty-five percent pay cut coming here.

When we got to Trieste I decided to go to a chemist to buy some paracetomol in case it was ever needed (actually relatively cheap: only €2 for 20 pills), however when I got to paying I realised I had left my wallet on the bus. So I sprinted back to the bus station, Gabriele in tow, where luckily the bus had not gone yet. Gabriele asked the people on our seats if they had seen a wallet and fortunately someone had handed it in to the driver. We went to the ticket desk and there we found the driver, to whom I said my most grateful ‘grazie mille’. Gabriele explained how I was very lucky as where he comes from, in the south, Puglia, the wallet would have just been stolen by someone.

At first Gabriele was looking for a suit, so we looked in a couple of shops then headed into the main centre of Trieste. Although it had been continually chucking it down for the whole time in Trieste (and Duino), the water pumped it up to number 11 as we were passing the main piazza (square), Piazza d’Unita d’Italia, so we sheltered in the alcove of the main building in the huge square, which is itself a colossal building (the Germanic and Austrian influences are everywhere, as Trieste used to be the main port of the Austro-Hungarian empire), which is something to do with eh local administration. As I had seen in Trieste when I was staying with my family, there is a registry office at the building. And as we were standing there we saw the lucky couple come out into the torrents where they had the Italian tradition of having rice thrown on their backs. We then decided that we should go somewhere, or at least I did as Gabriele was on the phone to his dad, so I decided to go to a really good ice cream shop near the hotel where we stayed in Trieste. This turned out to be a master-stroke, as we were sheltered and the ice cream was delicious (Gabriele said that it was good, so it must be really good if an Italian says it’s good. In fact he ended up having two ice creams). Gabriele then informed me that his parents are going to buy him a suit and send it to him, so at least we didn’t have to traipse around the streets in the pouring rain looking for suits. Trieste actually is so different in bad weather, though. When we came before on our pre-visit, it was thirty degrees (obviously centigrade) and sunshine every day, and the café’s were always full and the streets thriving. I don’t know where all those people went. Inside, it seems.

After the ice cream I wanted a little look at the hotel we stayed in, and also passed the excellent pizzeria nearby. We then went to the old part of the city where I was trying to find the wonderful little bookshop that we had also visited on the pre-visit. On the way I bought a Times (Friday’s edition), as it was the only English newspaper I could find. The only place I’ve seen the Guardian was in Venice. I’ve also seen the Daily Mail (it’s like a rat, you’re never more than three metres from one) but obviously I wouldn’t spend my money on it. There, I helped Gabriele find a book in English (as they have about five shelves of English books), that he would be able to read, obviously with the help of a dictionary. We settled on Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s stone. Opposite the bookshop was a deli where we got sandwiches, which we later consumed at the bus station whilst waiting for the bus. On the way to the bus station we popped into the post office, where I sent a little something home.

We got back to Duino at about half 2, where I checked my post and to my surprise there was a package from home. It turned out to be my debit card, meaning I have now moved from the world of ‘those who can’t’ to ‘those who can’. The next part of the sentence being ‘waste all their money away’. Anyway, to stop the bank blocking my card, thinking that someone had stolen it and it was being used abroad, I rang the Co-op and it was surprisingly easy to notify the dates of my stay in Italy, a lot less complicated than I thought it would be. After this I spoke to Dad for a bit, during which time I reminded him to send my pin code by email and also the details for online banking, so I can check my balance if I make any purchases (for example I intend to order from Amazon, literally the best game I have ever played. It goes by the name of ‘Junglespeed’). If I can check my bank balance I can see if the bank charges me for online transactions on amazon.co.uk and amazon.fr (there is no amazon Italia, and the closest geographical amazon that I could understand was amazon France as I barely speak a word of German). I also requested from my father the recipe for shortbread, as like I said about yesterday with the biscuits, I want to make a ‘british’ biscuit. Next on the list is ginger biscuits. If you have any British recipes that I could cook (sweet or savoury) although preferably vegetarian as naturally I have never cooked with meat, email me or comment below. Maybe quiche? Although even the word quiche itself is French… (Alsatian in fact, derived from the German ‘kuchen’…)

I then went to finish watching the Thick of It, during which time I experienced the horrible feeling of trying so hard not to spray liquid out of your mouth when laughing it came out my nose. Lush… I then decided to read the Times and caught the latest on the pope’s visit. I know there’s the internet, but there’s nothing quite like having a physical thing in your hand that you can read and complete, if you have the time. By now, I realised it was already 5, so, feeling like I hadn’t achieved much, I went for a wander. As it turned out, with half the school in Venice, and the weather so bad, everyone was just having a lazy day, which was actually really nice. A time to catch up on oneself after the sheer amount of stuff going on over the past few weeks. I sat downstairs feeling British reading the Times (although really I shouldn’t be giving a Murdoch publication any exposure…), and then spoke with Roberto, my secondo from Sardinia, about British politics, as he knows a surprising amount. A little bit later, Moritz was walking by the room as I was showing some people my playing cards with scenes of Northumberland and Newcastle on. He then went and got his South Tyrolean ones, which were completely unlike any cards I have ever seen. They were even different from Italian ones (which are pretty dissimilar to normal cards, anyway). He showed me the local game, which was actually quite fun, although there is no way I could describe it. This website roughly tells you about it: http://www.pagat.com/trumps/watten.html . I showed Christian, from Indonesia, the cards from Northumberland, and I think he was quite amazed. It’s funny how you take all this history and beautiful places for granted.

In the end, due to tiredness, I settled for a quiet night in watching The Pianist, which was a really moving and powerful film. I recommend it highly. Again the lightning guided me to sleep.

Oh yeah I forgot to put any photos on the laptop, so I'll put them on the next post. 

Robin