THAT'S THE BRIT WAY

Once more brits reminded me the massive mistake I made only thinking that their country was going to be a piece of cake for me. My brit friends should thank me for the tons of times they laugh their ass off cos of me myself. And - frankly, once they discovered what a source of amusement we were - they never stopped to take the piss out of us. I will never forget the time they finally explained me that any proper Englishmen has been taught to use "Pardon me" just in case of a little fart, not surely to mean that they haven't heard properly. But by that time I already made that posh nancy boy think i had some health issues. 

Also, when S. started to enlist all the ways he knew to say three of the most important words of english language (don't think they're such useful words, it's just being drunk, fuck, and awesome) we fell asleep before he actually finished. Though now I can say I'm drunk in a thousand possible ways (Starting from being arseholed, hammered, loaded, 'till the classic get pissed) I still use and prefer the more american "get wasted". It's an expression that has its own power, and makes you feel how destroyed you got with less than 10 letters. About awesome's slang synonyms, I personally fell in love with immense. It's such a cracking word!

Even in the kitchen I have problems in simultaneous translating: who would have imagined that to find zucchini and eggplant I should have studied french? If in Tesco I ask for such vegetables, the only answer I get is a brassed off "sorry luv, we don't sell that thing".  When you say courgette and aubergine, then maybe you'll be able to put these dear goods in your cupboard!

Once a pretty bladdered D. shout to P. something he surely meant to be a nuance of surprise, but instead it made him sound like a quite fruity old tart: "Blow me down!" And M., who didn't really know the real meaning but had just studied a new nice way to offend in brit english, answered back: "shut your clanging cake hole!". That wasn't surely my cup of tea, but at least it wasn't a dull moment either. I have never laughed so much but, honestly, who wouldn't have after such a waterfall of nonsense sentences altogether? 

I could enlist another thousand moments where I couldn't really understand a word, and I had to learn quickly in order to survive: it's a muffler and not a scarf; She is fit, and you too; that thing it's a hob, how else would you call it? You twat, can't call a girl a old lad! And so on, making my poor figures basically endless. 

But I'm easy, a easy cheeky monkey. And L. and B. are smart arses as well, so we usually get it sorted with a big big smile. Easy Peasy.

Sigh, I will never get it sorted. English people are impossible. Sob.

OH,SO CHRISTMASISH!

Officially, I came back on the 8th. Sincerely, it's just since yesterday that I fully realized that i cannot call Italy "home". I always write about my need of "leaving DA Country" because somehow I felt it like the place I belong to. Now... not really. Ah. It's nice to see again my family, have Christmas with them, but please, not more than two weeks. I genuinely reckon more than that gets unbearable. 

Officially, I came back on the 8th. Unfortunately, thanks to tonsillitis and these six-days-of-fever, I spent three days in coma and the other six praying for a fast healing miracle. Off course, it didn't happen, or I'd be finally out of this building. 

Officially and Sincerely, I'd like to be in Leeds. There was Christmas in the air, a smell of chestnuts, hot chocolate and marshmallows allover the city centre and in every single café. There were lights and decors in every street (obsolete and pretentious, not at all nice) but there were. And it was getting into the snowy weather, which was annoying cold and slippery but really Christmasish.

Christmas All made in Leeds...

There was the German Market - were sellers were speaking bulgarian, romanian and italian - dozens of small stands with tiny useless gift. With sweets, food, beer, beer, beer, muller wine, honey. Hand-crafts. Tons of chocolate (only have liqueur inside. So choose well, or you could get gianduja and whisky), candy floss, crepes, nutella. Flows of Nutella. Sweet and sour candies, colourful popcorns. Christmas-themed parties, sales, alcohol sales.

Yes, I kinda miss my english Christmas. I dare say it was more challenging, and with no present owed to someone, I felt the heart and the true meaning of this festivity. We were just a bunch of friends that loved being together...maybe no christmas feast, maybe no christmas tree (at least not the usual one), no decorations nor gifts, just a lot of smiles, drinks, and parties altogether. Just the joy of being together. 

Here... I'm driving crazy looking for a nice gift for each of the 15 people that will eat here on the 25th. I'm pushing myself in order to bear my mother. I'm trying to teach my sister english because I have to, and Italian to my host-sis also because I have to, though I should study for my exams at some points but who cares. In a couple of weeks, right after Christmas, I'll probably have to go again to Florence, and do the classical tourist trip with the exchanges, but I just wanna go back home. Back to Leeds. I hope there will be a little of its Christmas charm once I'm back in January.

BITTERNESS OF LIVING

@Sabble 

I don't wanna sound unpolite, but any information needed for international student who are wishing to study in the UK can be found either on the UCAS or on the website of your chosen university, so if anyone needs any of these informations... well, United Kingdom's educational system and its university are everywhere online, it won't be too hard to find the answers you're looking for.

Moreover, I believe every situation is different indeed. I could write my painful experiences trying to get those information required by Ucas, but I sincerely hope you won't find any of these difficulties.

Italian school is a pain in the ass.

The education system reflects the society which is part of. It's a static and dying organization that struggle to keep its head out of the water, but ultimately fails drowning into deep oceans of nepotism, incoherence and incompetence.

We focus on dead subjects, that someone in the late 20s set as the most important knowledges that any student can acquire, rather than teaching useful stuff that student can apply in the world outside school. We stuck ourselves into a narrow space within safe boundaries, that protect us (?) from the outside. The result? Students have a one year more of mandatory education, which is usually the one that other young europeans use as Gap Year to experience and acknowledge real world; university aren't really a connection to the work system; they're just a prosecution of high school where once more student have to study, study, study and basically learn by heart subject that ONCE MORE won't probably be useful in the work place.
And once we've graduated, we can either choose to:

a) Try and be defeated in the pursuit of a job.

b) Study more, to get a master or/and a PhD

          (and then not find a job anyway).

Anyone that wishes to escape from this rotten circle, and realizes it on time, goes abroad to study. Living one year in London/New york/ Berlin/ Paris (which at the end becomes at most two months, then the average italian goes back to his mama's kitchen) it's pointless, since you: won't find a job that can support you, won't learn the language, won't gain any relevant experience for you personal CV.

So the smart kid applies to a UK university for a master degree or, better, for a full undergraduate degree.

Unfortunately, the smart kid clashes against the Italian school, who sees him as an anomaly. Italian school it's absolutely not used to deal with international applications. Teachers are more likely going to be annoyed if you ask them to be your referee, and they won't answer to the simple question "Could you please give me a predicted degree of my finals?" either because they're too lazy or they don't wanna have any problem. Last but not least, they can make your life a living hell because you're a kid with ambitions, prospective and goals. Any person like YOU in Italy is seen as a cancer, or probably someone that hasn't yet been infected by the typical italian "male di vivere/ bitterness of living". So yes, the average high school will fight by all means at its disposal to deceive you. Get ready; if you survive, than you will understand why I am so happy to be here, in a place that encourages me rather than destroy my hopes and energy.

Also, most of the other student won't understand you. Cmon, they spend their final year talking about "yeah, maybe I will do medicine... or maybe law, or architecture, or engineering, or art. Maybe literature."

(WTF??? -.-)

A mixture of absolute nonsense, that makes crystal clear they have no idea of their future. Anyone who does it's either a nerd, a twat, or a misfit. Careful: they could even accuse of cheating during your finals because of this. It happened to me. That's what envy can do to people.

Italy really needs to open its eyes and start to support who have initiative. But i guess we're just going to die slowly, and recognize what we have done to our society when it's definitely too late.

Chinese school...

and Italian's. Find the differences.

PIZZA, MAFIA AND NO MORE

I wanted so badly to write something about England.

But this amazing news came unexpectedly, and i could stop myself from laughing, rejoicing, cry for relief.
It's over. He's done. Walt Disney was right, dreams DO come true.

I won't have to be ashamed anymore because an asshole is ruling Italy.

"Whereabout you are from?"

"Italy."

"Ah, bella Italia! Pizza, Mafia and Berlusconi!"

"NELCULO!"

RUN OTLEY, RUN!

Any englishman has heard about fancy dress, and had surely been in one of those massive theme parties. They're actually amazing parties, though are an excuse for girls to dress up in the bitchiest way possible without being persecuted by horny kids (me as well, LOL) and for boys to be even more stupid, if possible (?).

Lets face it: the little tiny child inside us is always grateful when we just have fun without thinking "OMG, this is so stupid, it'll ruin my status quo!".

Ghostbusters working in parties too.

In Leeds, they do much more.

Picture it: late '80s,  some extremely bored mid-aged men, dressed up, laying on the steps of a house that was supposed to hold the party of the year. Instead, it turned out to be shitty, and everybody is just chilling out by that time - which, to me, is not what people are supposed to do in parties.

Until the classical douchebag stands up shouting a loud Fu*k off!, catches the closest girl and runs to the nearest pub to get hammered; and once he's done there, he gets into the next pub, and the next, and the next, and the next. HE is the only hope last for all the party people, and HE lighted the idea that the party could yet go on, just changing location.  The whole house shook while a bunch of dressed up drunk people tried to catch up the douchebag, rolling down the stairs and jumping in the garden...

Result: people running like morons in the middle of the street, swinging from pub to pub, drinking loads of beer and, off course, dressed up in the weirdest and yet most genius way you've ever seen.

(I damn love it )

The Otley Run usually starts from Woodies, in far Headingley. It crosses the whole student district, passes through the University of Leeds and ends up at the Dry Dock, after 3 miles and 19 pubs where every participant is obliged to order a drink. Rules may change, but usually it's set that participants should have a different drink in each pub; non-alcoholic options are available, as well as charity collections to help as many people as possible to end the run. And off course: fancy dress!

Leeds people and students here in general surprise me with their fantasy and their imagination. Ideas I'd never have, that could be either genius or dramatically stupid and incoherent. Some of my block mates wore like crayon pencils, and the result was simply amazing: a dozen of colourful guys, covered with cardboards of the same colour and a massive "crayon" written on their chest. AMAZING.

 Blurred for privacy matters.

Or the "Rubik cube" run: each person had to wear in many different colours in different combinations, exactly like a Rubik cube looks like. Once the run started, we had to exchange clothes and accessories in order to wear just a single colour by the end of the route! HELL YEAH!

We're going to have another Otley Run for L.'s birthday. It's going to be during Halloween time so... if you see some Santas, Christmas Trees or Rudolphs around Leeds don't be scared and just join us! :)

AND YOUR BROTHER TOO

It's six o'clock and it has already been two hours since I'm awake. I hate when I can't fall asleep again. 

That's why, pretty much, I'm posting bullshits on my blog ♥

Quite a funny video, though. It resumes all the habits I had to explain and perform since I landed here. Explaining our gestures has been quite tough. I also learned something: I knew we had loads of military forces, but 54 and all armed is ridiculous...

Careful englishmen: "your sister" doesn't necessarily mean that...

NOT MY CUP OF TEA

There may be a lot of important issues I could talk about. More relevant, that you can notice at your first sight.

But.

There's something that had being climbing the hit list of the most stupid english habits, and had finally reached the first position. It definitely challenges me.

 English ladies, how the fuck do you dress up?My heart is crying right now, cos this question can only bother an Italian or at most someone who really does care about fare bella figura. Though it's hard to translate this sentence, an english way to say it could be "make a good impression". Which is not always so easy, and requires a deep understanding of the environment and of the situation we're going to deal with, plus a complete control over every single detail. It's, basically, one of the hardest task ever, which really few people can manage to do it in the best way.

In England, even a fewer percentage can do so. I know, any english girl, reading this, would just say: "I dress up fashionable! WTF BTCH STP SYING BS! -.-" 

But that's EXACTLY the point. Fashion is the death of style. Dressing up in a voguish way, following the latest trend, doesn't necessarily mean to have style, neither it means that you know how to dress up properly in order to achieve the best possible image of your self. If something doesn't fit, it simply DOESN'T FIT!  It's pointless to squeeze your body into an anorexic-made-for tiny little dress, that shows every freaking cell of fat you have in your legs. I've seen sooo many salamis around uni, with shorts (can i call them like that? Cos they looked more like undies) showing unmercifully everything. I'm not perfect either, but at least I don't dress up in such a horrible way.

Dear God, I am sincerely tired of meeting whales in inguinal shorts and flashing-pink tights. With their belly out cos it's so sexy! No. You just look like a sausage in desperate need of breathing.

And even if they look kinda good, there's simply no "taste", or any freakin idea of how to put two different pieces of clothes without clashing in either colors, shapes, styles. You cannot put just a pair of thighs and then pretend you don't need to cover your ass. If I see your underclothes, then you absolutely DO NEED to put something on!

Or, worse, when they wear those dresses and those flowery and thin shirts. not even my grandma is still wearing them, they're so damn old-fashioned. True, the 50s right now are the trendiest thing ever… but, really, you just look like an old woman that cannot forget the time of her life. Black, brown and gray knee-long dresses, with awful patterns such as small and big roses, tulips, daisies and sunflowers spread all over the cloth. No sleeves allowed and an leather shit-brown belt, in order to to achieve the granny image! YAY!

Unfortunately, there's yet an important matter that plagues my soul: As you may know, most english girls had their childhood freedom destroyed by ugly uniforms. Obliged to wear them every single day during the greatest time of their life, as soon as they are allowed to wear anything they'd like to they loose any fair measure. This means tiny dresses every hour of the day, 12inches heels, corsets, unpleasant t-shirts and not working skirts (they do not cover anything, so they're not working to me).  Jesus, you are studying, not clubbing! It's definitely the POSHEST thing I've ever seen in my life. Plus, it's hella obvious they are dying of cold: hanging out pretending it's August 15th, in the middle of a snowstorm, is not the smartest thing a person could ever do. But that's exactly how english ladies behave. It's not brave dare the cold wind of Leeds in shorts and then hope to be alright the day after. It's mere stupidity, especially if it's done just to follow the rule "be fuckin' sexy every single moment of your life/be bitchy always, even at Morrison with your kids". I am not kidding, you can easily find twenty year-old moms walking in the supermarket with basically nothing on. If I were their kid I would just hide ashamed… my mom's dressing like a whore, my mom is fuckin' dressing like a whore! In a supermarket, at midday!

A concept that appears to be more important than their own health. I dunno, it's just too much for me. I'd never ever, risk my own health to appear. To "make a good impression". Take care of ourselves in order to look beautiful it's a normal behavior, but it can't overcome our own sake. It simply can't. I've always thought the inside is far more important than the outside, but it seems this concept here cannot survive. Who told me that english do not care about appearances, and that they wear the first two things they find in the wardrobe? They hadn't been in England lately for sure, or they didn't see any of the newest generations.

Btw, some girls have the BEST styles ever. They're simply beautiful and so stylish. I love 'em, I love their english way to dress. it's so original and kinda rebellious.

They're the apple of my eyes :)

Have I mentioned that I love being in britain?

(I know sometimes it doesn't seems so, ha.)

COUNTERBALANCE THIS COMMOTION

Here I am! It has been a long time since my last post, and actually it has also been a long time since I landed here in the Uk.
Let's say I FREAKIN' love it!
It's cold, it's windy, it's rainy, I can see the sun once every week, people talk in a hundred impossible ways but hey! It's England!
I basically landed in Leeds without knowing where I was going to sleep. I didn't really have time to organize anything - I came back from Rome just two days before my departure, tired as HELL after having taken care of a bunch of screaming foreign kids (four hundred and twelve to be precise :P) and with no time for packing. The result? I came here and I scared to death one of those nice guys of the Meet and Greet Service (Where are you going? I have no idea. Where will you sleep? Is the railway station comfortable? LOL.) My luggage was sooo light, and I was proud of it, but now I understand that the weight was like that due to the massive amount of useful things I forgot at home. My room is HEEELLA small, and until three hours ago it was in a indecent state of chaos. Three hours ago I also found (FINALLY) the laundry room, so now my bedroom looks really like a battlefield. And I AM tired, as you can read.
BUT HEY, THIS IS ENGLAND!
Course, it's not perfect. My first impression though was absolutely WOW. As B. and L. witnessed, I fell in love with british boys. Hell yeah, where have you guys been all these years? They are everywhere, surrounding me, I cannot go anywhere without feeling in heaven. I'll turn into a hooker soon, AH.
Is pretty funny though how I divide systematically all the people (boys) I meet. I am supposed to be here to wipe out prejudices and pre-conceived ideas, and yet I divide them in three shameful categories…
1) Cook's. These guys remind me SOOO much of Cook. And since this is a public blog I won't say what I'd do to them.
2) Matthew's. Cuties. They are just like my favorite singer, how could I not love 'em?
3) Nobody's. Ah. Go on, I won't see ya.
I understand is stupid share all the people in these three ways. I understand people may not like to be compared to the most awesome and yet the biggest asshole character that Skins has ever had, or that someone may not be happy of being a mirror of - no, okay, there's no person that cannot be happy of being compared to Matthew Bellamy. But damn, why everybody here look just like them? It's an english conspiracy to kill me softly.
So, I am fully enjoying British culture and its natural beauty. Meeting me you'd see the eyes of a little girl with a new, huge and delicious lollipop. No innuendos in this sentence!
But.
Somewhere in my deepest inner mind, I started to perceive and take in differences I have never expected. Is not as far as Asia, though it feels like another world: I left Italy with the feeling that these months were going to be easy, after my experience in China. That I knew already how to behave, I knew the language, I knew the right manners. I was so self-confident that I came to the point of convincing myself that I couldn't be scared by something so close, so similar, so reliable. I fell into the trap that led all those renaissance explorer to go farther and further, assuming that the farther the more different and the closer the more similar, without preparing myself to reality.
Instead, I found out England is unlike indeed.
The surface is really similar, but deeper inside you can feel some differences. Is the awkward feeling that starts from your stomach, and then spreads into your whole body; and then you're done, you cannot talk anymore. You watch, you listen, you understand, you smile like an idiot but you absolutely shut your mouth up. You are somehow scared to broke this precious and fragile balance established among all the people around you. In these moments you clearly perceive yourself as an outsider.
Talks are just too different. Greetings are different, and the way you stay with others are different. You slow down the conversation, you feel your presence superflous. The first example I could think of is: Goodbyes. The average Italian would say bye kissing someone on the chick once, twice or even three times. Otherwise it feels like you where just waiting to leave, that you didn't enjoy the company, even though you actually had a lot of fun. But here, you just don't.
It's a violent collision between two worlds and I am exactly in the middle. I know I shouldn't be here, I know this ain't the right place, I WANT to stay here though. I wanna watch the destruction of these two worlds, waiting quietly that the storm passes through to show the beautiful newborn. It's a bit melodramatic, okay, but that's exactly how I feel right now. I am shared between two worlds, and it's not really a nice feeling. I am ready to jump in the new world, but something is holding tight my feet; the only thing I can do is bouncing in and out from one world to the other whilst I look for a way to set myself free. It's the end, and I'll push myself toward a new beginning. To grow, to become a better person, to travel, to understand. There's no knowledge without sacrifice, and there's no understanding without fatigue. There's no happiness without distress.


Anyway.
Next posts less theoretical and more practical. Just to laugh a little bit bout english habits!
(hope none of my flatmates read it, AH.)

KIDS WITH NEW TOYS

Have you ever felt like a kid with a new toy?
Lately I do. I came back from B's house and I found this whole new kitchen. Well, not really new, but full with new cutlery and cookware. A wook, a couple of new professional pans, a mixer. I tried again the amazing flavour of excitement: you know, the sweet and sour aroma that imbues your mouth while eating something really awesome, that tickles the palate. Or when something new gets in your way, giving you back the will to try new things.
Pretty much this is what happened to me. New toys for my kitchen, new ethnic dishes for my (poor) family! Also I wanna try new recepies - low cost and fast ones, that I can use once I'm in Leeds. Up there the key words are: save money, eat WELL and healthy (which, translated, can be shown as "i don't wanna get so freakin fat like I did in China just because of the cultural shock") and possibly do sports.
OUCH.
I'll never do it, I know. I like weekend walks, and i could also start jogging. But as soon as the could weather gets in, I will get into hibernation. Then work, and school... i should really work hard on this point of my determination. As long as it doesn't have the word "sport" in it, I can force myself until it's done, but in the other way around... urgh. God have mercy.

Ps. It looks like Arabian Hummus and East asian ramen it's perfect to survive to uni without diabetes.

Spicy Hummus

Tantan Ramen

N I N E T Y

Exactely. 90/100.
I may say I'm officially a Leeds International Student!
It feels amazing, you know. Finally, after a whole year of sacrifices, hard study, homesickeness and moments of "why-the-fuck-am-i-still-in-italy" the day has come! I can officially consider myself a UK student, and in september I'll be finally out of here.
I thought I was going to feel and be like when I understood I was gonig to spend a whole year in China but - it's somehow different. Maybe cos I still have two italian months. Or maybe cos England is not such a challange... dunno, I guess after China nothing can be as hard as it.
Or, better, I just have to wait: tic and chills will surely come as soon as the departure gets closer ;)

I still have a lot to do:
1) Understand whether I DO HAVE an accomodation or not
2) Find a flat if point 1) is not as I hoped
3) Understand what the hell is the National Insurance Number
4) Create point 4)
5) Have my government loan after having achieved point 3) and 4)
6) Buy nice heels
7) Find a plane and get there
8) Find a job
9) START MY NEW ENGLISH UNIVERSITY LIFE :D

GOING FOR IT

So.
My name's Saya. I've been in China during my 12th grade, as an exchange student with AFS. I chose China because... well, honestly, I wanted Japan so badly. I was so fascinated by it that I convinced my self that the whole Asia was like a bigger Japan: that's why China was my second choice, followed by India and Thailand. Such a big mistake, but I have to thank the younger-and-stupid-myself, for the unwanted chance to discover such a great and amazing culture.
I've been through lots of problems, offcourse, mostly because of how much AFS China sucks. On the other hand, I learnt to take care of myself without anyone's help. Big change, from spoiled teen to responsabile kid! Unfortunately, my chinese didn't improve as well...Instead, my english got much better :D
And now, I can't live without it: not being able to speak my favourite language 24/7 it's awful. Being without my worldwide friends is not possible, and be obliged to stay in such a narrow-minded place it's absolutely awkward. Nobody can understand what I've been through in China and, most of all, nobody cares, nobody's interested.
No big deal. Not whining anymore. Instead, I chose to apply to a Uk college. I got accepted and this september, if my finals are okay, i'll be studing in Leeds. And by 2012 I'll be back in China. I cannot wait to be able to watch things from a different point of view and highlight aspects of daily life that in my country I cannot even notice.
It's gonna be awesome.