I continually look like this when attempting to understand Italian

I got a job in Milan! It’s at a pole dance studio, and it’s basically a work-study job so I can continue to take dance classes as a bankrupt student. I work as a receptionist, and do some odd-jobs around the studio. The studio is branded as an English- and Italian-speaking school, and a lot of the students do speak “some” English.

I’ve been working there for about 2 weeks now and have had a few hiccups. My arch nemesis is the telephone. I have only had one really bad run-in so far on the phone… the woman spoke no English whatsoever, and I couldn’t understand anything she was saying. After several failed attempts in communication, I made my “Home Alone face” and in my state of panic told her to:

“Chiami lo stesso numero domani”

Which is a very incorrect way to say “Call back tomorrow”. I realize that is bad customer service, but I had no idea what else to say! My limited knowledge of Italian abandoned me in my distress, and this was the best I could come up with.

Today, I worked with the other receptionist for about 5 hours. She doesn’t speak English AT ALL. It was a very interesting experience- and believe it or not, we communicated almost entirely in Italian. (But had to talk through Google Translate 2 or 3 times). I basically had “the face” on all day, but I was able to get the gist of what she was telling me and could answer some of her questions.

Italian is getting better, but I’m still only at a wallflower-level. I’m fine listening to it and can understand most conversations happening around me. But when the time comes for me to be a social butterfly and get involved in the conversation, I panic and make “the face”. Working at the studio has definitely thrown me into the Italian fire; if the girls do speak English, they definitely don’t know how to resolve payment or scheduling issues in English, so all of that is done in Italian. It’s hard, and I’m struggling, but maybe it’s the best thing for me? We’ll see how long I last…

The notebook in question. Yes I know this picture is blurry; I still haven't figured out how to use my camera... I'm "special".

This is a picture of a notebook my friend gave me before I left for Italy. (Yes, I wanted an excuse to post a ridiculous photo of us. This is how we spend Saturday nights in NYC- we’re just that cool.)

She thought I could use a nice notebook at school, but in actuality she wanted me to do a favor for her while she was out of town. (I still love you, K!) Anyway, it was a nice gesture, and naturally I brought this notebook with me to Italy.

This notebook has been something of a curiosity at school. I have been asked if I speak Chinese by at least 6 different people, and 2 people have asked me if I AM Chinese. Cosa?!?

I didn’t realize having an Asian-style notebook with Chinese writing would throw people for such a loop. It’s giving me some fun ideas though. Like, if I come to school wearing the bindis my sister-in-law’s parents’ gave me, will people think I’m Indian? Or if I continually make enchiladas for lunch, will I be Mexican? And maybe if I come to school dressed like the cast of the Jersey Shore, can I pass for a real Italian?

What is going on?

If you don’t recognize the quote from the title of this post, you need to watch this TV series in its entirety. It will change your life!

Anyway, I started the move into my permanent apartment, and the only word to describe this experience is “random”.

It seems that most apartments in Milano are furnished. This is strange to me, considering furnished apartments are so hard to come by in NYC. Anyway, my roommate and I found a furnished 2-bedroom place in a decent area of Milano. I don’t need to deal with buying a bed or anything like that, nor do I have to worry about getting pots, pans, dishes, etc. Sounds great right?

I guess it is, but a more fitting word is… random. You don’t exactly get matching furniture or complete dish sets in the apartment; you get whatever is around. I know beggers can’t be choosers, but I can still poke fun at the situation. For example, we have a random assortment of dishes and glasses. Some seem to come from an old lady’s china cabinet, and others from a kindergarten classroom. Then my roommate and I went to Ikea and bought more dishes, so now our place settings are a just a hot mess all around.

My apartment is still in chaos, we’re still cleaning, and I should be doing homework instead of blogging. I’ll post more pictures eventually, but since I flood my apartment every time I take a shower, it could take awhile…