mercoledì 31 marzo 2010

The long weekend in Friuli – Venezia Giulia


Dear diary,

There's been almost two weeks since my last post. No, it's not that I was lazy. You know that I like to write, to open my mind and share my precious thoughts with you, but these last days I was out of town for a long weekend from 19th until 23rd of this month. On my way back home, I discovered that my internet was cut by my provider, for no reason at all, and the clue of the day was that I got flu! So, there was no way that I could go out and argue with the lady at Vodafone's, moreover I had 38.2° so I postponed it for betters days. However, I had to prove to myself that I was not that addicted to web and that I could stay away from my social networks, mail, motivation letters to write, job preoccupations. All that useless stress that was killing me last weeks and months had disappeared and I could finally relax with my family, and to think about the marvelous long weekend I spent with my old friends.

On Thursday, 18th March, late in the afternoon, I took a train from Trento to Bassano and I was heading to Gorizia. A lot of things changed since I was a regular passenger on that local or should I say regional train. Suddenly, a number of intermediate stops was increased and I was obliged to change a train three times. Yes, I could take a super fast train called "Frecciarossa", without all that changes, but a price difference was quite evident so I opted for a "poor" trip version which included a change of train in Bassano, first, then Castefranco Veneto, and at last in Treviso Centrale. Years ago, while I was still a student at the faculty of Diplomatic studies in Gorizia, I was taking the same regional train, but I had to change it only in Venice, from which there was a direct inter-regional train. However, apparently since then things were quite different, so I had to accept the new situation. On the train, I met a nice guy from Senegal, with whom I had a pleasant conversation in French and who was so kind to walk me to the other train because I was afraid of some unpleasant and quite impolite foreign guy who was staring at me all the time. The next track was Bassano – Castelfranco Veneto. I do not exaggerate, but I was completely alone in the compartment! It was an old train and my first thought was: "Am I on the train phantasm?" Every next stop I was expecting somebody to step in but my prayers were not heard. I tried to relax with some music of my mp3 player, but it was useless. Luckily, there was finally a Castelfranco Veneto stop and I was relieved. Then there was other train to be taken, which was going to Treviso but this time I was not alone. I managed to relax and after last change, at eight thirty p.m., I finally arrived to Gorizia, to that town at the Italian-Slovenian boarder where I studied for almost five years, and my friend Alessandra, who was graduating the following morning, and her boyfriend Marco were waiting for me at the station. I was so happy and quite excited because of return to "good old" Gorizia after one year. Last spring, university celebrated its anniversary so we all got reunited. Unfortunately, this time I was alone, girls were out of Italy and I was honored to represent our group of friends for this special occasion of Alessandra's graduation.

The following morning, Marco came to pick me up at Alessandra's flat where I was accommodated. While we were approaching the faculty's building, my heart was beating so fast. I was so excited at idea of going back to the "red" room where the ceremony was held. Alessandra was the first to have the graduation exam. Her thesis topic was quite interesting so professors wanted to ask her some questions and she answered them all with no hesitation. She was really great and I was so moved while I was listening to her and so proud. Obviously, she got the highest mark: 110 cum lode. After the exam, we all went outside where Marco and I put on the wall the papiro. I have to explain. In Italy, they have this tradition to write on a paper panel a long poem of your life, very funny one and containing some secrets from student's life usually unknown to family members. This time, since I was alone, and besides my handwriting is quite illegible, I decided to create a collage of pictures with thoughts and messages of our friends. They all help me a lot, and the rest was a part of my favorite pc program: picassa. I like to create this kind of things, especially for my friends in occasion of their birthdays, so I had quite fun while creating it. Alessandra liked it so much. She was visibly touched while reading it. She was happy and I was even more. The surprise was perfect I'd say!

After the graduation ceremony, we all went to Nino, a bar where we used to hang out, to celebrate. My only sorrow was because the girls, Fabiola , Clara and Francesca, were not with us, but at the end, even from abroad, they sent their love and greetings. I felt like a postman when I gave her postcards Fabiola and Francesca have sent from UK. In Italy there was a TV show, conducted by a famous Raffaela Carra, who was inviting a family members of her guest from abroad, who were living far away and were not in contact with a guest, and she would say: "And now, Francesca (an example) is here!" The show was called "Caramba che fortuna", "Caramba what a fortune", and somehow I felt like I was Raffaela. We stayed for a while at Nino's, and later on, in the evening, we went to Cormons for a dinner. For two days we were celebrating: Alessandra's family, Marco's family and the guest of honor: me. On Saturday we went to Grado, at the seaside where we had a long walk. In the evening Marco's mum Anna invited us for a dinner which was very delicious and I could not do othervise but asking for the recipe. One of these days I will make it for my mum. I hope to surprise her!

I spent the entire weekend in Gorizia and beside Alessandra, I managed to meet with other old friends like Simone, with whom I took a coffee on Sunday morning, but I was most excited when I met, after five long years, my African friends: Lydie and Edwige. They are now both married and have kids. Lydie is a mum of Paolo, who has five months and is really adorable. It was so nice holding him in my arms and playing with him. Lydie was so kind to invite me at lunch, so we had time to remember old days when we both lived at the Catholic student dormitory. Edwige also has a son, his name is Eddy Francesco, and she is pregnant again. Her son is very cute, we played for some time and tried to make some photos but it was practically impossible.

After a weekend, on Monday afternoon, I went to Trieste and I stayed there for two days at Denis' place. Denis is my Croatian girl friend, although she preferred to be called Istrian, as the region she lives in: Istria. We met ten years ago, at the entrance exam, and although we were from countries which were in war, we became quite good friends. Unfortunately, although she passed exam, she was not among people who were accepted so she transferred her to the other faculty in Trieste but we remained in contact and from time to time we were seeing each other. She lives in an old building, owned by a wife of some man from Istria too, which has all inhabitants originally from the Balkans. Every Monday, this guy organizes a multiethnic parties, with food and games. So, I had to go there with Denis and her twin sister Tea, and it was nice, I had quite of fan. The only negative thing was that it was raining all the time and we couldn't go out for a walk but we spoke a lot, listened to music and she showed me her latino fitness tape. Just like me, she gained some extra kilos, and with this latino fitness program, she is practicing every day. I liked it, so Denis made a copy of it for me and I already began to practice it at home. My mum likes it too, so every evening she joins me while doing exercises.

It was really a nice long weekend, full of memories that I will keep in my heart forever. There are some pictures so I made a collage. I hope you will like it.

Good night my friends, wherever you are!

martedì 16 marzo 2010

This is Balkan

Dear diary,

I still haven't decided wherever I like or not the song "Ovo je Balkan", "This is Balkan", which will represent Serbia on the Eurovision song contest in Oslo this year, but I can not be that bad girl so I will support Milan Stanković, the singer, although I am afraid we will not reach high positions..Hm.. Who knows...I mean, I don't hate him neither like him, but the song is awful, with due respect to Goran Bregović. Let say that sound is quite ok, typical for him anyway, but lyrics is horrible. However, on the final evening, 27th March, I will be there to scream: "Go, Serbia, go!" and I will probably be considered crazy by my Italian neighbours. They also shout:"Forza Italia!", in occasion of all those football matches, or other sport events, and that's somehow normal. My "Forza Serbia!" will be probably considered inappropriate, taking into consideration that Italy is no longer member of this music competition, but luckily my first neighbours are from Albania, meaning that I will be able to support my country at the ESC exactly like I did when I was a child, no matter that my country has changed its name several times since then.


Yes, I admit. I am a big fan of Eurosong. It was a tradition in our family which doesn't exist anymore. Things change after a while, unfortunately. Maybe that's because for some time, during the war, we coud not partecipate, so my parents lost that enthusiasm I still try to keep. The other day, when I watched the show in which Serbia chose Milan's song, they told me I was crazy. "Who cares about the Eurovision song contest?" My dad asked. I do! I still remember those long nights when I was a kid, at the time my parents would send me to bed early, but I used to hide behing the daining room door and watch the voting part of the show. I would get thrilled when the speaker would have pronounced that: "Yugoslavia, 12 points!" Sometimes my parents discovered my hidding place, when usually was late to convince me to go back to bed. Then they would have invited me to sit with them on a big couch and to root for our song together. Those were great times, and songs were different. I won't say better or worse because a lot of things changed since then, especially music styles. Just different times, and happier maybe.


What else say... as a big fan... I will watch it this year too. And I will give all my support to Serbia, as always. Am I bit homesick tonight? Maybe. Or maybe I just got used to this a bit weird song. However, it's our and that's enough. Forza Serbia!

video


"Ne jednom, ne dvaput, tri puta..po naški je."

venerdì 12 marzo 2010

In memoriam of dr. Zoran Đinđić


Dear diary,

Time runs so quickly but it seems like it was yesterday when Maja came in the classroom where our lessons were held, there was a break, and she said: " Our Prime Minister has been shot!" It was 12th March 2003, exactly seven years ago. I still can feel the trembling of our bodies when we hugged each other. I remember the first tear when we saw at the web page of our newspaper "Novosti" the title of the main news of the day. Our Prime Minister was brutally killed by the people who wanted to stop his pro-European reforms, who wanted to send Serbia back in time, but they did not succeed in it.

A day after, I took a train from Gorizia to Trieste and I went to our consulate. Outside of the building, there were already a lot of people, in Trieste we have a huge community, ready to sign a memorial book. I was so sad, so desperate, it was somehow unbelievable that I was there, that happened what happened. I even don't remember what I wrote on that white page. My hand was shaking while I was writing those lines full of pain, sorrow and proud. It was the moment I realized that it was not a bad dream, it was a pure reality. And my reality has been ruined by a comment of Serbia-Montengro consul at time, probably a native Montenegrin. I was, as I said already, quite sad and a bit shocked for what had happened, so I said something like: "Poor Serbia-Montenegro, we just lost our Prime Minister." And the consul said: " Who knows for how long this union of states will exist." Our country was moaning a death of Serbian Prime Minister and he was thinking already about the Montenegro independence. It was not nor time nor place to make such a comment. He made me angry but I said no word. I left the consulate still widely touched.

Seven years passed since then. Seven long years during which Serbia never forgot Zoran, nor ever will. I feel sorry for not being in Belgrade today, but I will light a candle for him, as every year. Serbia will never forget you. We will never stop to follow your path. Rest in peace Zoran.

lunedì 8 marzo 2010

The Woman's Day... Greetings to the best mum in the world


Dear diary,

It was a lovely sunny day in Trento. A bit cold but nice. I can already smell the presence of spring in the air. These last weeks I was not in a mood to write. As usual when I feel "out of my mind" I like to be isolated from everybody in order to collect my thoughts and to reflect. Sometimes that's not enough, especially if you have some negative thoughts and everything around you seems to be black or colorless. But, there is always a but, words of my former Hungarian professor Palinkoi, if you have around your family, your closest friends, things can change. So I decided to change. I cleaned my face, sent away stupid tears, and I began to smile. Not bad for the new beginning, right?

I am really glad that I can always count on my family and friends when I need it. I usually keep everything inside and sometimes I explode. But they are always there to listen me, to take care of me, especially the most important woman of my life, Vera. My mum. The woman who gave a life to me, all her love. The woman with whom I often argue but who will be forever my best friend. If I am today what I am, I owe it to her. Today it is 8th March, the Woman's Day. I take this occasion to say few words to my mum.

Dear mum, I am sorry for everytime I hurt you with my sharp words. We have such different characters that quite often brings us to stupid and useless discussions. That, however, doesn't mean that we don't love each other. That means that our relationship is strong, as every mother-daughter relationship. I will always be grateful to God for having such a great mother like you are. You are my best support ever. Thanks to your constance, your love and dedication, 26 years ago I made my first steps alone, after years of hospitals in which you spent your best years of youth. You never let me alone. Never. Maybe you exagerated with your worry for me. I grew up mollycoddled. But you knew when to say stop and you allowed me to study away from home, although your heart was crying. First for the high school studies in another town, and after it you gave me the opportunity to study abroad, first at the university and then at the post-graduate course. Although you were not always happy with my choises, you supported me and I will never stop to say: THANK YOU MUM!!! I love you. Happy woman's day.

And happy women's day to all women of the world.

I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles." — Audrey Hepburn
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