Friends, voyages and happiness

Dear diary,

I am to blame for leaving you alone for such a long period, I know. I left unwritten these pages for a month and the fault is not online mine. I know, I was quite busy with my new work, with the wedding of my friend, but I also took a week of holidays when my dear friend Ljiljana came to visit me. You remember Ljiljana, don’t you? I already mentioned her in some of my stories and now you can meet my great high school friend.

Ljiljana arrived to Italy from France, where she lives, on Thursday 8^th September. While was going to the train station I was so excited that I couldn’t wait for her to arrive. Last time when I saw her it was back in 2009 during my holidays in Serbia. Two long years have passed since those days I spent in Novi Sad, her town, but we were always in contact by mail, facebook and skype. Finally she took of the train and I saw her, different with her new hair style but always the same girl I left at the Novi Sad’s bus station. Finally I could have hugged and kissed her and spent some time with. You just can imagine my happiness and joy, all those emotions that only friends can give us!

Ljiljana stayed with us for a week, the long and intensive one that will be part of my memories forever. We have done a lot of enjoyable and funny things together, and had precious moments that we’ll never forget. We traveled together, visited the city of Romeo, Verona, and went to one of the most romantic places, Venice. It was really very nice week. Since pictures say more than words, I’ll leave you with my personal holiday postcards.

With love,

Emy

Venice 2011

Lilly, me and Venice

St. Marco Church's Tower

Lilly, Murano, Venice

Walking through Venice .. let's make some pose.

At the Arena of Verona 

Julietta's balcony

Friends, happiness and joy

Outside of Verona's arena

Trento - at the Buonconsiglio Castle

The Buonconsiglio Castle's garden

Family gatherings – I love it

Dear diary,

Here we are, face to face you and me. I know, it was time to wake up from this lethargy I was in for such a long period. My so-called life at the end was not that bad, maybe a bit boring but not that much, as I thought. The fact is that usually people, in this case me (I shouldn't speak for others), tend to be less productive when they don't feel well. As I mentioned few times, I really like writing, putting a part of myself on white paper (now on pc screen J ), that keeps me alive! But, due to the state of mind I was in, I forgot that incredible feeling. Important is that I realized that it was a huge mistake (you may sue me for abandoning you J ) and that I'm back in business again.

This summer has begun in such a nice way, we move into the new flat as I already said in previous post, and it was just the beginning of our new life, different and from some points of view, even better. The zone where our new apartment is located is really nice, calm, surrounded by parks and mountains, although a bit isolated from the city centre where we used to live before. Our neighbors seem to be quite pleasant and polite, although I sometimes (rarely though) feel the nostalgia for our former Brazilian, quite noisy, neighbors who were making parties almost every night. Living abroad is a bit different from living in your own State. In my building in Serbia, where I have lived for sixteen years (at the age of four we moved there and I was twenty when we came to Trento) I knew all my neighbors quite well, or almost, but people here are bit different. I won't say that they are cold (although I live in the north of Italy) because it's not nice speaking in that way of native citizens of your new (sort of) hometown, but I would rather say that they don't trust to the foreigners (even if for foreigner might be taken a native Italian from the south part of the country). Once you manage to gain their confidence, you may say that you have been accepted by the local community. However, we are still new in this zone, although we have some friends living nearby, and it will probably take time for making new friendships. In the meantime, we can rely on the old ones and on our relatives.

Speaking about relatives, this summer was signed by some family gatherings in our lovely Trento. Now, you may be confused, knowing that I am coming from Serbia and that all my relatives live there! Yes, that's quite true, there is no doubt about that. But, I have to disappoint you. I have even relatives here in Italy! I've known that my dad had a cousin here in Italy, who lives with his family in a small town called Capriano , which is near Brescia, but we met with them for the first time only this spring. My dad and my uncle lost contact years ago, and when my dad arrived to Italy in 2001, was not able to get in contact with him because the phone number he had was not in function anymore. Luckily, as often happens in lifetime, they got in touch again so, in May, we went to visit them. In that occasion I also met for the first time my cousins Andrea, the older one, and twins Nicola and Annamaria, and they paid us visit in summer. I was so glad to see them, although Andrea was missing because she had to work. I had so much fun that day, specially with Annamaria. Our families also had great time together and it was the day I will always remember.

In September we had guests from Serbia for the first time. My dad went there for a holiday and brought us my mum's sister Jela, my dear aunt, who stayed in for a week. It was really so nice having her around. Mum was on holiday too and was really happy because of her sister's visit. We all went a bit around Trento, in the mountains where our friend Gino has a restaurant, but also went out of town. We spent such a lovely day at the Garda lake, and we also did some shopping in Verona. Pity that my aunt had to go back that soon but we all hope that she would come to visit us again, maybe with my cousins. Luckily, I also saw my uncle who came with a friend to pick up my aunt who really doesn't like to travel alone.

It was really such a nice summer. I am only a bit sad because I had to stay at home because of my health problems, but a life is made of that: good and bad vibrations. Hopefully, the good-ones win the battle. Always, or almost always. And I will remember this summer not for the negative aspects of it, but mostly because of these two family gatherings that I love. God bless friends and family without whom our lives would have really no sense.

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 19^th until 23^rd 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, 18^th 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!

My favorite bureaucratic misadventure

Dear diary,

Last night while I was speaking with Piermario, it's already a sort of habit to speak with him late in the evening since he now lives in Houston and there is a time difference with Italy of seven hours, he reminded me of one episode of my life we both experienced, although in a different manner. Tonight I would like to remember that special day which was, to certain extent, also my worst nightmare.

Since I was a child, I was a big fan of music, and even now, music is a big part of me, of my soul and I don't think I would manage to live without it. One of my favorite group when I was a child was a rock group from Sarajevo called Bijelo dugme. The white button. Unfortunately, with a war in the ex-Yugoslavia, the group disintegrated and the leader, Goran Bregović, became, at international level, a very famous composer. In 2005 the group got united for the first time and decided to organize concerts in various Balkan capitals. At that time, it was a period before graduation, I had a group of friends, all of them were as much as I was a fan of Bijelo dugme, and we all were born in the country which didn't exist anymore. We all met in 2002/2003, although one of them, Bojan, was already, for a year, a student of our faculty, when my dear Balkan girls came in. Maja from Belgrade, Selma from Pula, Sanja and Selina from Rijeka (Croatia), Ira from Slovenia and Aleksandra from Ohrid (Ex Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia). We formed a so-called Balkan group and we were often hanging out together. When we found about the concerts of our favorite group, immediately we decided to go. The Belgrade concert was during a summer exam session so we opted for a concert in Croatian capital Zagreb, which was closest to Italy. Ira's brother was living in Zagreb so he bought us tickets. At the beginning my mum was contrary to send me to Zagreb, although I was not going alone there but with my close friends, because she would prefer that I was going to Belgrade and especially because I would miss her birthday. Luckily, my dad managed to convince her so at the end, on 22nd June, Bojan, Maja, Aleksandra, Bojan's girlfriend Cristina and me left Gorizia and we were heading via Slovenia to Zagreb. The others were already there, waiting for us.

The concert was amazing. We were so excited to be there and to sing songs of our days, our lives and our friendship. I still remember the moment when everybody sang in chorus: Jugoslavijo na noge, pjesme nek se čuju... Get up Yugoslavia, let our songs be heard... It was so touching. I was thinking about the war, about all innocent victims, among whom was also my Bosnian friend from a childhood, and I was surprised to hear all that people singing a sort of anthem for all of us who were born in that country. At some point, there was my mum favorite song and I took a mobile from my purse to call her and let her hear some verses of the song. Maybe if I didn't do it the rest of that evening would be better definitely. After the concert ended, Bojan, Maja, Cristina, Aleksandra and me, we went for a dinner in some restaurant and after it we supposed to go back to Gorizia. Bojan had to work the next day. At the moment of payment, I realized that my small beg with a passport inside was missing. There was also my Italian resident permit and some money I put aside, in case of need, plus my Serbian mobile card. I didn't care much about the money but I was aware that without those documents, it would be impossible to go back home in Italy. I said home because my parents were also living in Italy and Trento is still my second home.

The first thing to do was to go to a police station to declare what happened. I didn't know whether I was robbed or that I lost the bag while calling my mum. Actually, first we tried to walk back and to see if we could find the bag, but it was quite useless. A police officer made us wait a lot to tell us at the end that they could not help me and that I had to go to my embassy. It was late in the night so we had to wait until morning. Bojan went back to Italy and Maja and Aleksandra stayed with me all night long. We sat on the bench and tried to relax. Actually they tried to calm me down, I was crying all the time. I was really quite upset. Aleks, we call her like this, had a redbull, which didn't give us wings but helped us to stay awake. In the morning we informed other Croatian girls who stayed in Zagreb too about what happened and they joined us at the Serbian embassy. I was the only one who could enter, they had to wait me outside.

The woman at the embassy was very rude. I was upset so much and instead of trying to help me, she was making me literally crazy. She asked me what happened and after I finished to tell my story, she shouted at me. "How could you allow to yourself to loose a passport in Croatia!" "I didn't do it on purpose." I replied. She asked me for my dad's number and she called him immediately. "Your daughter lost her passport and we will deport her to Serbia." Deport. I felt like I was a criminal. Then she asked me to prove that I was a Serbian citizen. Since I just had in my wallet my Italian id, the Serbian one I had left at the dormitory, I was allowed to call Italy and ask someone to send by fax a copy of it. Guess who I called? Piermario! I was so upset that I could not remember where I had put my Serbian id so I asked him to search for it in my room, in some of drawers. The problem was that my id was in Cyrillic and he had problems to recognize it. Luckily, our classmate Tatiana was from Russia so she helped him. He went God knows where, at the University and at the mastercopy shop, but after some problems, he managed to sent a copy of id. And the other requirement, the certificate of birth, was sent to the embassy by our family friend in my hometown. While all this was happening, my friends outside the embassy tried everything to help me. Selina's mum tried to help with Italian consulate in Rijeka, where she worked, and they wanted to give me some document in order to pass the border and go back. Bojan, when he was back to Italy, called his friend at Serbia's embassy in Slovenia. They also wanted to help me but I was ignored of all this diplomatic involvement in my case. I found out it by the impolite woman from the embassy who informed me that I would loose my Serbian citizenship if "they continue to receive the external pressure". Finally, late in the afternoon I obtained my putni list. A sheet with which I could go back to Serbia. And I got as well a friendly warning to leave Zagreb with the first train that was arriving to Belgrade at one o'clock A.M.

It was out of question to take that late train. First, I didn't want to wake any of my Belgrade friends, especially not my cousin who was studying there and who was angry with me for not joining him at Belgrade's concert. Luckily, Sanja's friend Nataša gave me a possibility to stay over night at her student house, and the following morning I took a train to Belgrade. I was so happy when I get to train station of our capital that I wanted to give a kiss to a ground of motherland. Later on I went to my hometown. When I arrived to my aunt's place everybody was making fun of me because of that Zagreb adventure. My uncle called me Selma, by one Bijelo dugme song which says "putuj Selma... travel Selma". When I went to the police office, to ask for new documents, I received a telephone call from Denis, my Croatian friend from Trieste. That weekend she was at home in Pola. She was notifying me that my bag with documents was found and that I had to call the police headquarters in Zagreb. Luckily, police officers are not always stupid so they inserted my Serbian mobile card and they saw I had a Croatian friend, by Denis name I put the abbreviation CRO , so they called her, she called me... I called Nataša who was so kind to go to the police office, take my bag and send it to me by bus. I took a bag at the Belgrade station few minutes before my bus to Trieste had to depart.

At the end, everything was ok. I got my documents back. I came back to Gorizia. I gave a thankful hug to Piermario. I missed only my last two exams... But I passed them in the autumn session and I graduated in December. And all my Balkan and non Balkan friends were there. We celebrated together all night long but that's another story. Once maybe I'll write it. Now it's to late for it. As usual.

"I will go to Moscow by train!" "That's out of question!"

Dear diary,

You know what just crossed my mind? That cold autumn of 2003 in Moscow. I should look for a photo album from that period, but in this caos, I wouldn't know where to find it. Actually, there is a box with all my university stuff, but I have never opened it since I graduated. Should I do it now? In the middle of a night, a moment before going to sleep. Yes, it's late. As usual. My favourite moment of a day when I am most active. Most creative.

We were in the middle of the second term, third year of BA, when my professor of Russian language announced that our group will pass one month in Moscow, in exchange program at the Moscow state university of international relations, so-called MGIMO. You can immagine our happiness and enthisiasm. We were suppposed to spend one month in Russia, to study the language, and for us it was an amazing opportunity. I was so thrilled because of it, except for one insignificant detail: we had to take a plane and for me it was the first time. Since I was a kid, I was suffering from acrophobia (fear of heights), and there was no way I would fly to Moscow!

"I will go to Moscow by train!" I said to the professor. "That's out of question! How many days you would like to travel by train? You will take the plane with others!" She was cristally clear. There was no way that I would go by train. I had to fly, or to give up, and I didn't want it. For everybody that was the real occasion for me to be cured, so after some discussions, I was finally convinced that there was no other way out except of being brave and fly. In the middle of summer holiday, my colleagues informed me about the flight we supposed to take together from Malpensa Milano airport, so I went to the travel agency. When I took that ticket, I knew I had taken the right decision. I was still afraid, but I had to face all my fears. And win, ofcourse.

The day of 9th October 2003 I will remember forever. I went to Milano almost four hours before our flight. I wanted to get used to the atmosphere of the airport. I was watching planes departuring and landing, and my heart was doing bum-bum. In one of those big birds I would experience the moment of touching the sky and I don't know if I was more terrified or excited. Soon the others arrived and I had to say good-bye to my dad. We had to check in, my first check in. Like it was yesterday! After a while, we took a bus which led us to the plane. I met a bosnian couple on it, I remember. On the plane, I was so nervous. I spoke a lot while we were taking of. I said a bunch of stupid things. I even mentioned our french prof I hated, De Gioia! At some point, Laura told me to calm down. We were flying and I was still alive! On our way back from Moscow, I was sleeping. They had to wake me up to tell me that we were landing to the Malpensa airport. Everything was ok.

Luckily, I continued to fly. After it I went to Paris. Alone! Then there was my first time to Belgrade by plane. Then Vienna. Istanbul. Now, you won't believe, but I adore to fly. And everytime it's a new experience. New emotion. Acrophobia? What was that?

And there is a proof. A picture taken at the Moscow airport.