this must be the place

Europe is when you go like this

2005-07-27T18:34:00.000+02:00

Well since I've been back in America I've returned to my typical blogging schedule which is seldom and long-delayed from the time I think of something to write. The reason why the first one was retired. It is great to be back. We were warned about reverse culture shock on returning to the States but I managed to ward that off completely. One of the only side effects is not understanding the inside jokes that Letterman makes on the Late Show. I figure it will take me a month to get caught up on that. My sleep schedule is gradually adjusting back to normal, like the shortening of each summer day. For a while I was waking up at 7:30 every morning, but I made it to 9 today. Thank you very much.

The trip back from Berlin was fairly perilous. Starting at the Berlin airport, I was pulled out of line for a random baggage search. Not a big deal except I was carrying back one of Nick's suitcases for him. Also seemingly not a big deal except Nick had left by the time of my search and when I went to open his rickety old baggage I couldn't figure out how to undo the locks. Suspicions arose as I grappled with the peculiar locking mechanism, finally it was taking so long I had to admit it was a friend's bag. "Where is your friend?" they asked with a little hint of accusation. "Well, he's gone..." Knowing how this sounded I blurted out every defense in a preemptive strike. "I mean, I know what's in here! I packed it with him! Some of my stuff is in here too it's just he closed it and I don't know how it opens!" I guess the worst that could have happened was they would have cut it open, seen clothes books and dvds and sent me on my way and I would have had a ruined suitcase to compensate Nick for, but at the time it seemed like I was about to be wrestled to the ground, detained in a dark room with one spotlight shining in my eyes while tall shadowy Germans shouted German accusations at me while passing my passport and wallet around skeptically, I'd miss my flight and maybe never see home again. But just before all that swung into motion, I figured out how to open the lock.

Berlin to New York was the easier leg of the trip seeing how we were actually fed and also due in large part to the malfunction of Delta's "Hitch" dvd, resulting in a vhs copy of "National Lampoon's Vacation" being substitued. I whipped out the headphones in a flash. The movie was great, as it always is, but I wondered if the stewardesses were aware of all the profanity and scenes of nudity that the unedited version actually has. Nothing beats Chevy Chase telling his family that they're all "fucked in the head." We landed at JFK, I was unable to see any of New York from the plane, then a couple hours later was back on the runway waiting to take off for Seattle. A couple hours after that I was still on the runway waiting to take off for Seattle. We taxid around forever, leaving me thinking perhaps the pilots took a wrong turn and we were lost at the airport. But a weather disturbance in Chicago was forcing reroutes on several planes in front of us. Eventually we were airborn, but there were no pillows on this flight, my seat wouldn't recline even though I threw all my strength back against it like I was trying to stop it from crushing me, Star Wars-garbage-smasher-style, they never fed us and the movie was Miss Congeniality 2. Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

Well, I think that was a little too much detail for two flights, but I will move on. Berlin was fun and, maybe ironically, there was a peace to it that Rome could never have. If you haven't checked my photos recently, shame on you first of all, but all my Berlin pictures are in one sub-album now. Here is one short passage I jotted down early on in my stay in Germany...

Day two in Berlin is at an end. We are home much earlier than last night, mercifully. After meeting two of Nick’s Berlin compatriots, one from Spain and the other from London, we went to a bar called something that translates to The Living Room, I think, because it was basically a living room. But we sat in the kitchen section. Then we proceeded to a club called Magnet where all the Berlin hipsters gather to awkwardly half-dance the night away. Ever danced to Belle & Sebastian? Well, maybe you have, but probably only in private. I don’t do much clubbing, but I doubt that dance floors at many clubs are ringed by disillusioned youth trying to furrow up more apathy.

It is much greener here, trees and rain are part of my life again. I voluntarily went to Nick’s final class yesterday and learned about native Maori speakers in New Zealand. I’m only interested in their poetry.

Nick is a very well-informed and capable tour guide. It is funny to hear him speaking fluent German and having others speak it right back. It always seemed like a parlor trick when I heard a word or two of it in Seattle, but not something that could actually be used to
communicate!

One odd fact you can impress your friends with now is that in Berlin they never jaywalk, even at wide open intersections. It is to set a good example for the kiddies, says Nick. I speculated that that may be why the Germans lost the war. Think of all the time lost with their infantry battalions waiting for the signal to change as we raced into the city, brazenly disregarding all crosswalks in our path, jaywalking to victory. You won't find that in any textbook.

Walking along one afternoon, we passed a mother and her young daughter speaking in German. The mother looked back at her young one and said something, which prompted the daughter to answer exasperatedly, closing her eyes and holding her arms out at her sides. After walking past Nick said, "What a weird conversation." "What did they say?" "The mom said, 'And what is death?' and the girl said, 'Death is when you go like this.'" Cue the closed eyes and rigid posture. What a bizarre and morbid conversation, and yet there's something I like very much about "Death is when you go like this." That does not seem so bad.

Anyways, grand finale time? Almost two weeks detached from Rome now, I think much more about the program and the people than the city. That was more the focus of my interest while I was there too, I think. The interactions between the always unique personalities in our class was usually what I had my eye out for, moreso than any foreshortening techniques employed by Caravaggio. It was a challenge in just about any way you can imagine. Academically, socially, culturally, physically...monetarily. It split me into my basic elements. I was forced to ask questions of myself that maybe I didn't completely answer, and maybe I never wanted to ask the questions anyway, but it was still good to come through respectably enough. I think I had my confidence initially shattered and then by the end had managed to painstakingly glue it back together to where you could barely see the cracks. I joked plenty before leaving about "finding myself", and still could never buy into something so cliched like that, but I think maybe I was reintroduced. And I think this is where I'll leave it. Thanks for checking in and really thanks for leaving comments. Comments make the world go round.

One more practical matter to deal with. My antique cell phone finally died and I have a new one now, same number, but all my precious contacts are history. If anyone wants to leave me their number here, email it, or actually call, that would be stupendous. Alright, ciao.

quick hits from Berlin

2005-07-16T14:05:00.000+02:00

I have stormed Berlin, but can only go online on Nick's laptop, so I won't have much time for the rest of the trip to sit down and do any long posts or post any new pictures. So I'll just say a few quick things and get out of the way and do some longer grand finale type posts when I get back to Seattle on the 19th.

Yesterday we saw the longest remaining stretch of Wall, now turned into a memorial and decorated with many murals. Today I think the plan is to see a Picasso museum and go up to the cupola of the Reighstagg which gives a good view of the city. Berlin moves at a much more leisurely pace compared to Rome, and there are actual trees and plants here, it feels much like Seattle.

The Rome program ended up with a large group of us sitting on the banks of the Tiber river, singing songs and consuming beverages and it was a lot of fun, and the feeling of accomplishment was quite substantial when I finally left to wander back to my apartment for the last night. Spent the next night in the Rome airport, sleeping horribly on benches, then caught the quick two-hour flight up to Berlin where Nick was waiting to pick me up in his Mariners shirt in my honor, and here I am now in his dorm room. That's about all I have time for now, I will be home soon.

Oh, and by the way I am in need of a new AIM screen name. MikeBRulz is now permanently defunct after eight or nine years of distinguished service. Any suggestions?

When you become the center of the universe

2005-07-11T12:11:00.000+02:00

Something strange happened on the way to anonymity. As I walked up to the podium tonight to unleash the pair of poems I had chosen for our group’s final reading, I started getting a bizarre amount of cheers, so much so that I actually looked behind me to make sure I wasn’t being followed by someone more important. But no, somehow I’ve turned into a minor poetry celebrity. I couldn’t explain it. I just said, “Wow, this really won’t be that good.” I read my two pieces, elicited some laughs and sat back down with a mental shrug. Afterwards, Ian came right up and said, “Man, you had the shit hyped out of you! You could have said anything and they would have eaten it up.” I guess my publicists have been hard at work creating a buzz. Also, Vincent from downstairs closed out our group’s reading by expressing his love for everyone in our apartment but finishing up by focusing on me and giving me a sort of “I love you, man.” Vincent has a way of saying things that there’s really just no response to. Even more curiously, a few people have said my poems are among their favorites and I had to write out a copy of one of them for this girl Jamie tonight and sign and date it. The only thing I can think is that maybe I don’t try to wrap the world up in a poem. Listening to some others tonight I pulled out my journal and wrote, “With your last line, say something like ‘her breasts held time’ or ‘its eyes were God’ or something equally asinine, and you will be met with oohs and ahs.” I’ve said that I can’t take myself seriously writing poetry, but maybe it’s just that universal truth poetry, and maybe people appreciate something different.

Later at dinner, Micha, one of the grad students, cryptically asked me if I held all the wisdom. When I told him he needed to lead me a little farther down that road he theorized that I am the cold center of the universe that all the warmth gravitates towards. Apparently these poets need a little cynicism in their lives. Many people here love to speak in absolutes, which I hate absolutely. They want to beat their ideas into your head, or at least feel that this is their one chance to be heard so they pounce at every opportunity like, “What?? Did someone say they liked Keats?” Then they pull the cord on their back and start shouting “KEATS IS FILTH, YOU DON’T SEE THAT????” I’m generalizing too much though. The “they” I keep referring to is probably less than five people here but I have had plenty of dinners where I end up sitting back and playing with my silverware as others shout their mighty thoughts across the table. Cool center of the universe perhaps, or I just don’t feel like being an ass.

Quoteworthy

2005-07-07T22:03:00.000+02:00

well, my normally scattered postings will continue here, but the London attacks have obviously put me on edge, with the terrorist group claiming Italy would also be targeted, and since i ride the subway and busses during rush hour, through downtown Rome, up to four times a day. needless to say i shall be hoofing it for the remainder of my stay here, nevermind the half hour walk from our apartment to the UW Rome Center.

most of the students here seem to be just about completely worn down from the program, and i've been enjoying listening to gripes from unexpected sources over the last few days. yesterday was our third day trip, this time to the hill town of Todi, then on to a local winery, and finally to this city called Civita, if i remember right. Civita looks like something out of a fantasy world, perched up on a high hill right in the middle of a wide scooped out valley, and you walk over and up a long bridge to reach it. i added the pictures from yesterday's trip to my photo site at http://photobucket.com/albums/a242/mbruscas/. the one picture that needs more explaining is the one with me standing next to the mannequin in KKK attire. a sign next to it explained how it was not KKK-wear, but the traditional garb townspeople (i forget from what town) would use long ago during the burying rituals for someone who had died. wealthy, benevolent individuals would pay for certain services but wanted to remain anonymous, hence the hoods. so i guess the KKK stole their costume idea. shame on you, KKK.

everyone was slightly miffed after spending around six hours total on the bus yesterday and getting back at 11:30 when we were supposed to be back by 8. the strain is starting to show. we're only here for a month, but it is easily a full quarter's worth of time and effort packed in. we have class six days a week, generally involving three hour walks at 9 a.m. in the morning, then three additional hours of class at the Rome center in the evening, whereas one of the history programs has class four times a week and they're always out by 1 p.m., although they are in the city longer. but so that typical schedule, plus the maraton bus trips yesterday and people have started lamenting how much longer they're still travelling after the program ends and wishing they could go home. i am not quite that dour yet, but then i'm only faced with one week in berlin hanging out with Nick before i go home, and not the two months in Africa, for example, that my friend Emily will be experiencing. i definitely want to fast forward these next five days though. i've seen eight churches in the past three days now and judging from my photo production, my interest has steadily waned.

i've taken to keeping myself and a few others amused lately by greeting every new place we visit with the same line. i take a few looks around and say, "so, this is italy." it will probably get old fast but right now it is pretty much a necessity, and my friend patrick titled both of the poems he read today "so, this is italy."

also, since i've heard this story about 10 times over the last two days and it makes me laugh severely every single time, i feel it's just as big a part of the trip as any church or fresco. so i will relate it as best i can, but you really need to hear and see Ian's performance.....anyways, once upon a time a kid named Ian attended Garfield high school, where he was vastly in the minority to all the black students. and in a particular class there were only three white kids, and the black students referred to each of them only as "white boy". well for some unknown reason one day, one of the other white boys brought a bottle of whiskey with him to class, except he had filled it up with apple juice instead. so during class he just pulled the bottle out of his bag and started chugging it, with the pained expression on his face that one would make if they were actually chugging a bottle of whiskey. this is where the story might lose you in the text version, because ian's Chris Rock-like screams are impossible to recreate. anyway, this white boy's actions were met with riotous screams from the black students, and Ian gives the following quotes: "OH SHEEEEYIT!! LOOK AT WHITE BOY!! WHAT THE HELL'S WHITE BOY DOING??? YOU GONNA GET EXPEEEELLED WHITE BOY!!!" ian says many of the black students loved nothing better than an opportunity to shout out loud during class. meanwhile, the teacher just stood idly by chortling to himself. i wish i could claim that story for my own, but Edmonds-Woodway was on the tamer side.

A few students on this trip also fall on the crazier side. one girl i witnessed rub her head and neck back and forth against the bus seat in front of her yesterday like a cat. another occasion she lovingly embraced a tree at Hadrian's Villa and gave the bark a long, deep sniff, as i walked past thinking "let's just ignore that." but my favorite was also on the bus yesterday, when she enthusiastically suggested "let's have a day where we force ourselves to speak only in iambs!" i wanted to say, with all the seriousness i could muster, "wow, that is the single greatest idea i believe i have ever heard. and i think i love you now." i shouldn't only pick on her, there are several other slightly off-kilter people here, but those moments deserved special attention.

It's getting late so i will close with breakneck speed.
an exchange that sums up my poetry feelings....
Katie: "I've begun the slow descent into mediocrity."
Myself: "I plunged in headfirst."

an exchange with a history student on the bus....
Him: "What the hell, are they drunk?"
Myself: "No, they're my roommates. That's pretty typical behavior."
Him: "Jeez, how do you put up with that?"
Myself: "..............................."
And i'm still working on the answer to that.

A strong grip and a wary eye

2005-07-03T19:19:00.000+02:00

Sunday evening here now, the end of my lovely break. Ran into Stephanie on the street while waiting for the bus today. Wonderful to see her of course and she has a lovely tan going after three months in Greece. I'm becoming slightly off-white, but that is the most I can expect.

Oh, and to whomever composed the Grape Nuts haiku following my last post, that will definitely get recited in our meeting tomorrow. Now that's MY kind of poetry!

I enjoy passing restaurants that advertise their Rick Steves approval. I feel like they owe me a free drink or something because of Rick and my shared Edmonds residence. I suppose he really must be the most famous man from Edmonds, for what that's worth.

Other reminders of home: Last night the Italian MTV channel played the video for “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)” by The Arcade Fire, a great video I must say. Not that the Arcade Fire have anything to do with Seattle, but I was on their bandwagon early so it is interesting that they are now cracking the Italian mainstream.

Today I saw an Italian man wearing a Supersuckers shirt. For those who don’t know, the Supersuckers are a very small-time country/punk band from the Emerald City. I should have shouted “Eddie Spaghetti!” (the lead singer’s name) and seen if I got a reaction. Maybe anyone with the name Spaghetti has a big following in Rome. tee hee.

I recently decided to really wave my American flag by going to the local McDonald’s for the first time. I then paid tribute to Pulp Fiction by ordering the McRoyal with cheese. However, I did not then proceed with John Travolta to murder Brett and his friends while shouting Bible verses. While I was sitting in the restaurant, a girl of maybe five came up to me holding up an egg-ish toy. Here in Rome, little gypsy children are some of the biggest con artists of all. I once saw a man violently throw three sniggering kids from the subway (before it had started moving), someone later explaining that they were pickpockets. Or they are tools of their conning moms and pops, like the man who always comes around restaurants in our neighborhood playing guitar while his tiny daughter sullenly belly dances in a circle next to him, then goes around to the tables pulling on sleeves and asking for money. My dad made me mow the lawn, but at least he didn’t make me dance around the mower on the street corner to support our family. But the point is that when this bright-eyed child cautiously approached me holding up the egg, I regarded her with suspicion I usually only reserve for……well, I can’t think of any situations in America where I’m so guarded against people. At least with Ave rats you know where they stand. So I tried to shoo her away, saying “No grazie” and quickly looking back to my book. But she persisted and held it up again. “You just want me to open it?” I said finally. She nodded. So, still feeling I was somehow being hoodwinked—like it would burst open and I would have unwittingly been forced to accept whatever was inside, for five euro—I pulled it apart. She lit up, took it and ran over to another table where she waved it to someone out of my sight, just a mother with a weak grip I suppose. It was only her happy meal toy. And it made me thoroughly disgusted with Rome for making me regard this little girl with such scorn. At least to the American sucker, people are guilty until proven innocent here.

ballooning. the true gentleman's pasttime.

2005-06-30T15:38:00.000+02:00

First of all, happy birthday to my mother. Secondly, we're up to six photo galleries on my photo site now (scroll down two posts for the link) including yesterday's excursion up above the city in a balloon. It was tethered to the ground so we just went straight up and straight back down, however, they claimed that it's the WORLD'S LARGEST tethered balloon. I dare you to find a larger tethered balloon in America. Go ahead, just try. We also went to the Galleria Borghese yesterday which houses some pretty unbelievable statues by Bernini. If only I had the tools to properly describe them. They were purty though. Then we went down by the Tiber river and all had to read one thing we'd written so far. People's poems all sounded nice, but I can't judge anything like that until I see it in front of me. You could take a haiku about breakfast cereal and if you read it with enough conviction it sounds brilliant. We're on break now until Monday, still don't know where I will head, if anywhere. We'll update this situation as soon as we have more information available.

p.s. i do not like poetry.

Odds and Ends and the Sisteen Chapel

2005-06-27T22:28:00.000+02:00

Monday night here now so I'm just stopping off at the Rome Center on my way home from a nice dinner. So far food-wise I'd have to say all the meat dishes are really the way to go. Pasta and pizza is fine but not really better than the states. But I've had some steak and chicken dinners that were unbelievable. I typed most of this blog entry yesterday during our day off, then I'll add today's events briefly at the end....

This was a Sunday spent mostly in the presence of gelato and shade. It has become stupendously hot here over the last couple days and today felt like a new trip high. So everyone here turns to gelato. I am slightly partial to granitas to compose myself in the heat. Granitas are like gourmet slurpees. I remember years ago in the days of bike riding around Edmonds, the Five Corners mini mart randomly sold granitas for a short stretch, and I bought them up like wild fire, wondering from what foreign land such a sublime taste hailed. But just as suddenly as they came into my life, they vanished again. I was the only customer I guess. But here they are everywhere so we have had a nice reunion.

I will backtrack a little more since I didn’t really accomplish anything today. After gratefully rounding up all of my luggage in the Rome airport on the day of my arrival, I was slowly following signs to the taxi stand. The instructions the UW professors gave to us were to make sure to get an official taxi to avoid “charlatans”. But as I was walking in the direction of the official taxis, a charlatan came up beside me and asked if I needed a taxi. I said yes and how much to Rome, and he quoted me 70 euros, 10 more than I was told I should pay. But after spending all day in planes and airports I just wanted to get out of there so I agreed, and we promptly turned around and went in the complete opposite direction of the official taxis. Thinking to myself “I am currently in the process of being ripped off” made it kind of fun.

The driver took me on what can best be described as literally the ride of my life. Reality was suspended after a while as he flew down the highway, weaving through traffic like it was standing still. Hitting the city did nothing to dull his need for speed. Lane lines were just a silly superstition. He made moves that I would have been too scared to attempt even if I was racing on Xbox. In Rome, the way they avoid accidents is to speed up even more and use the horn like a bodily function. But we made what I’m assuming was ridiculously good time to the Campo de Fiori, which the UW Rome Center borders. Really the first thing I noticed about Italy was the graffiti that covered everything on the way into the city. All modern day Michelangelos I suppose. By the end of my trip I expect to be run over two or three times and have someone’s initials spray-painted on my ass. When I finally located the building that houses the UW Rome Center—which even though I was dropped off like 30 seconds away from it, took me about an hour and a half to find due to the ridiculously poor directions the professor provided, and I was on the short end compared to how long it took some other students—I saw some graffiti even I could understand in the big black “FUCK” written right next to the door.

Having now seen two other apartments, I can say for sure that we got the short end of the housing stick. It takes about a half hour to walk from our place to the UWRC, where we need to go twice a day on most days. But usually we can hijack a bus. Busses require one euro tickets, which you buy at random places like tobacco shops, and then you validate the ticket on little machines once you actually get on the bus. But you only need a ticket in the unfortunate incident that an official gets on the bus to check validations, which I’ve yet to see happen. So I’ve ridden the bus maybe 50 times and only bought a ticket once, which is standard practice for most Italians. We live above the law.

Monday: Rose early this morning and got in line for the Vatican Museum. It's like waiting to get into Disneyland. I expected to hear screams of delight from the Sisteen Chapel coming through the walls like Space Mountain. I also was hoping for Michelangelo lookalikes walking around signing autographs. We got in after about an hour in line and headed straight for the Capella Sistene. It was basically wall-to-wall packed in there, and photographs, and speaking, were prohibited. They had several security guards there to yell at people who tried to sneak some pictures, and every time the crowd murmur would start to grow they would clap their hands and yell "SILENCE!" But I digress. Michael Angelo was quite impressed with what his namesake accomplished. There was great variety to the characters, the colors were all really vibrant which is a hotbutton issue for purists I guess, they think Michelangelo meant it to be darker (I'm just full of useful historical tidbits!), and some of the figures had a real imposing size and weight to them, almost like comic book characters but not cartoonish. Did that description do justice to one of the defining artistic statements in the history of the western world?? I only wished I had known what more of the panels represented before I saw it, but I bought a book on the way out. Independent learning is fun! A group field trip to Hadrian's Villa tomorrow, supposedly one of the hottest places in Italy, and I thought today was intense.

proof that i'm here

2005-06-24T23:13:00.000+02:00

phew, uploading pictures is exhausting work, but grazie to "Anonymous" who suggested using photobucket.com to post my pictures. i got maybe 30 up there tonight. up right now are visits from the first few days to the Pantheon and the Spanish Steps plus a few random shots, then i skipped forward to today when i went inside Saint Peter's (pope central) for the first time and went up to the top of the dome. one of the coolest things i've done here so far for sure.

http://photobucket.com/albums/a242/mbruscas/

there's the link, and the pictures are arranged in two clearly marked sub albums. i made navigation a breeze! the albums take a minute to load it seems, and they're also in reverse chronological order right now, so start at the bottom or you'll give the ending away. have a nice day you lazy american pigs!

When In Rome (there, I said it)

2005-06-23T22:00:00.000+02:00

Welcome back to my previously retired blog, friends. I compare the comeback to Nigel Tufnel rejoining Spinal Tap once "Sex Farm" became a big hit in Japan. I am prepping this initial blog entry sans internet in bed at my apartment late Tuesday night. I had planned to try and get it up and running tonight from the UW Rome Center, but went out to dinner with some “cohorts” and if I go out to dinner here that pretty much finishes off the day for me. Sleep is good, sleep is important. Staying up til 4 a.m. to watch tv is a thing of the past, and also a thing of the future, but definitely not a thing of the present. Plus, the only tv station in English here is MTV, and I think I could function without Road Rules. Tomorrow we are headed to the beach at 8 a.m. and won’t be back til late so what I’m writing here won’t appear until at least Thursday. But I felt like getting some preface out of the way now. And now I have. Goodnight......

Part 2: It's Thursday afternoon now. The warm waves of the Mediterranean are behind me. It was a fun day and I managed to write a poem I'm marginally satisfied with. Seeing as this blog is being updated about 10 days into the trip, I will have to randomly backtrack and fill in certain info. One such thing is the content of the program. We're here for "creative writing", which has many lovely forms, but it turns out it is all poetry all the time here. I have no real training or interest in poetry and I cannot take myself very seriously when I'm writing it, so I've mostly given up on writing anything meaningful on the trip and will just do what they want to pass and get the credits. People are always spouting off memorized poems or reading each other their latest sonnet and I just glaze over.

I think I should wrap this up for the moment. I have my "book talk" to give today at 5:30 and still need to do some research. It's not all fun and games here, you know...

By the way I axed (not asked) all my old postings. They were holding me back.

Also, if anyone knows of a good site to post pictures on, let me know, and then everyone can see me doing touristy poses in front of various monuments. And I have a good shot of the pope's arm.

the inevitable

2005-02-11T08:30:00.000+01:00

this blog is dead. no fanfare. no final opus. the retirement is irreversible, like a boxer's. really i do appreciate anyone who kept up with the completely infrequent posts. but now i must return to my home planet. see yas.

-mike