The sort of sidewalk message I pass on the way to work. I love Brooklyn.
Someone once asked me if I am like a shark—if I stop moving, will I die? Which is to say, I have never been one for being idle. But this time, I may have outdone myself. Right now, I am simultaneously a full-time student and a full-time employee. Score, I have created a monstrosity that will truly screw with BLS unemployment statistics.
Corby Kummer, august senior editor for the Atlantic and one of my all-time idols, thinks my writing is shit.
Fine, he didn’t say it exactly like that.
Kummer was teaching a weeklong writing workshop, and everyone had submitted second drafts of essays on food. One by one, he whisked us into the hallway for individual conferences, then periodically returned to give comments to the entire group. All day, I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Why wasn’t my piece being read out loud to the class? Why was it at the bottom of the pile?
Note: This post is mostly geared towards UNISG students, so it will be fairly useless to you unless you need to get from Bra to Pollenzo.
Living in Italy, you start to realize that there are always two ways of doing everything, the official system and the back door in-the-know route. Take the process of acquiring a permesso di soggiorno residency permit, required for all non-EU citizens staying in Italy for over 90 days. In Bra, you can either go to the Post Office, pick up an application kit and struggle to figure out what to put down so as to not have your application rejected, or you can go to the Al Elka-L’incontro center for foreign citizens, which provides consulting services and staff who fill out the application for you. Granted, the center is only open for 7 hours a week, on Tuesday afternoons and Friday mornings, but that is different gripe. Ah, Europe.
Home is where the heart is, so your real home’s in your chest! -Captain Hammer
Unlike Cornell, which barrages you with information every other day about freshman orientation, the University of Gastronomic Sciences is a bit more laidback. To get information, you really have to be proactive and seek it out, which is fine because the administration staff is very responsive. In an email I exchanged before arriving in Italy, I was told that the flat would come furnished with desks, beds, blankets, a TV and a kitchen with pots and pans. Oh boy, a cable TV? I don’t even have one of those at home!
My first Italian sunset, right before I realized I was hilariously lost.
It was going perfectly, until it wasn’t. I managed to navigate through London, catch my connecting flight in another airport, and got through Turin before making a mistake. At the Turin Porta Nuova train station, I asked for a ticket to Bra, and it was printed with the destination as “Bra.” Thus, I assumed that the train led directly to Bra, especially since the clerk didn’t mention any sort of transfer. An hour too late, and after some fitful dozing on the train, I panicked when I realized that this line didn’t directly go to Bra, and I should have transferred trains at Carmagnola. Luckily, the first person I asked for help was ludicrously well-prepared and whipped out a complete book of train timetables, and helped me figure out a new itinerary to get “home.” With palpable relief, I stepped off the bus at 22.37, about two hours later than planned. My flatmates came to pick me up in a car, and were overjoyed that I hadn’t inadvertently ended up in France or something. All in all, I have taken 10 planes/trains/buses to trek from New York to Bra, Italy in the last 24 hours, while lugging about 3/4 of my weight in luggage, up and down stairs, through traffic, across bumpy cobblestones. Heathrow might be my new favorite airport now because they offer the free usage of luggage carts. This has been one of the most draining days of my life.
One of the best parts about my job is that the people I work with tend to be smart, funny and generally likable (when they’re not purposely being assholes). In particular, it’s nice that there is a large contingent of other AEs, who each have a broad array of quirky interests and backgrounds. This translates into fairly entertaining lunchtime discussions, which leap from Hegel to how to escape from a locked trunk in a matter of seconds. I’m not sure what everyone else talks about at lunch, but we jokingly call ourselves the “Witty Banter Table,” and I’m pretty sure we’re the most hilarious lunch table EVER.
One of the best parts about my job is that the people I work with tend to be smart, funny and generally likable (when they’re not purposely being assholes). In particular, it’s nice that there is a large contingent of other AEs, who each have a broad array of quirky interests and backgrounds. This translates into fairly entertaining lunchtime discussions, which leap from Hegel to how to escape from a locked trunk in a matter of seconds. I’m not sure what everyone else talks about at lunch, but we jokingly call ourselves the “Witty Banter Table,” and I’m pretty sure we’re the most hilarious lunch table EVER.
Many of you reading this blog are already familiar with my plans for the next year, but for the newcomers, here is the spiel on why I’m packing my bags and moving to Europe:
I’ve been accepted to the master’s program in Food Culture and Communications at the University of Gastronomic Sciences (UNISG). This entails moving to Pollenzo, about 60 km south of Turin in northern Italy. The program lasts for one year, and the language of instruction is English. (Phew!)