27/10/2013

A few considerations...

It feels like I haven't written a post in a while and so, today I have decided that it was time to sit down and jot down a few thoughts. I have to warn you; this is another one of those melancholic posts where I share with you everything that goes through my mind.

Said that, I want to start by telling you that Brussels looks beautiful in autumn. Thanks to the gorgeous weather so far (this was true until yesterday, this morning it's raining!!) I have started walking home almost everyday, taking pictures of every little detail that catches my eye. Brussels usually looks very grey and dull but the autumn colours makes it very solemn and cheerful at the same time. I think the architecture and the buildings are given a new life with the red, the yellow and the orange of the leaves. The new season has really helped me see Brussels under a different light. 

I had a few busy weeks; work, friends and innumerable attempts to organise my life better. My cousin and her family came to Brussels to visit a friend last weekend and we spent the all Saturday together. It was lovely. We never have the chance to spend so much time together. First because there is (actually I think there was) a big age gap that of course affects the relationship we could have and second, we now live too far apart. Saturday was good because we finally realised that I grew up (thank God!) and that we now have more of a common ground to build our relationship on. We definitely have more things to talk about, discuss and share. It was also very nice to be with family, being able to feel comfortable without making an effort and just be myself.

Then, I have reached the third month of my time here and it is a moment for decisions. I have to choose my next adventure and as every, single time my heart drives me both home and far from home. I want to work in London because that's where I see myself in the future, I know that is the place where I will settle down for real. Therefore, my rational side thinks that it is the time to go there and work on my career and my future plans, but my irrational side thinks that I am still very young and I have plenty of time to explore the world and see what else it has to offer. I believe, though, that this moving around is somehow counterproductive, we all reach a moment in life when travelling and changing countries is very enriching on the personal level but so limiting careerwise. What I mean is that once we find our career path it is better to stick to one place in order to build the right network and put down the foundations. So this brings around one first question, if my first job experience has been in Belgium should I better stay here then? But do I want to stay here? This is the second question. Since I don't think I would like to live here for long maybe it would be better to go before it is too late. And where to? If I go to London, I will be closer to home and ready to build my real life, the life I want for myself but then, I think of all the places I will not know, explore and become familiar with, all the wonderful people that I could meet and I won't meet. In choosing my next destination I use this criterion; I believe that Europe is a bit too stuck in the past and that places like Russia or Australia are moving fast towards the future. This means that I could probably find a job outside Europe but in my head I make an exception for the UK, which has an incredible ability to adapt to the changes this time is bringing and so I am back to London. You might think I have already found the answer but it is not true. My best skill is to never be content with my choices: if I chose London I will wonder what it would have been like to live somewhere else and if I chose somewhere else I will wonder whether London would have been a better option.

On this note, and also because of recent events, I have started remembering my childhood and mentally listing the reasons why I am the person  I am. I grew up in Italy and yet when I have to name my home I say: UK. I am a curious and a bit restless person. Maybe restless is not the right word, but what I mean is that since I was little I wanted to travel. I remember that when I used to play I pretended to speak English. I couldn't but I wished. I admired my father so much because he could speak English and he had worked in the US, in Canada and in Africa. I listened, mouth-opened, to his stories and anecdotes about the time he landed in Kinshasa or the time he haggled the price of some souvenirs with a Nigerian man who was selling his goods in the shade of a banana tree. In the mind of a little girl that sounded so exotic, like the adventures of Sandokan. I wanted to be like my father; I wanted to work abroad and see men selling their things in a market in Lagos.

I never liked the place where I grew up. It is a city, by Italian standards, one of the centres of the 'industrial triangle' (as the Italians call it), with a long and rich history and proud people, but I hated it. I found my city suffocating, stuck in the past and far away from whatever the real life was. I had the strong belief that something exceptionally interesting was going on somewhere else and I wanted to be part of it. My favourite subjects at school were English, history and literature (not so much geography, funny for someone who wants to travel so much). English was clearly because of my father's influence, history because it made possible for me to know more about other countries' past and culture and literature because I could travel with books and on the pages of some of my favourite stories I could find someone like me, someone that was impossible to find among my peers.

I had friends and my closest friend comes from that period. She is like a sister to me, she was the only one who could understand. Probably we are not very similar but we understand each other and this is all we need in life. Others did not even make an effort to understand me, or at least that was how I felt back then. The result was that I put all my energy in trying to be different. When I reached secondary school I chose to study languages. I knew that speaking more languages was the only thing that could take me out of there. I chose Russian, and not because I thought it was useful. I didn't know much about Russia or Russian economy to realise that someday that might have opened some doors. I just wanted to be different. All the proper, well bred girls were doing French or German and if you wanted to be more alternative you would have done Spanish (yes, the city is so backwards that Spanish is alternative!!) but I wanted to be more alternative, I wanted to be against the system and be labelled Communist; I wanted to speak Russian.

People were amazed and they didn't know what I was doing. My family is part of that well-bred class of people in the city and so I was the 'weirdo'! Maybe it was all my father's fault marrying a Milanese, who knows! I fell in love with Russian but I didn't like my secondary school years. I had plenty of clashes with the teachers who wanted me to study hundreds of Latin words by heart and couldn't teach us how to put two sentences together in English. They wanted us to know all about Italian literature and so miss all the great literature the world has to offer. I refused to study what I thought was not useful and I remember how I was the only one once to tell my teacher, by whom we were all terrified, that I hadn't read the great Italian novel 'I Malavoglia' by Verga simply because I couldn't understand it and I didn't see the point of reading something I couldn't understand just because someone told me to do so. I think that is the problem of that city; people always do something because other people has told them to do so. People dress the same because other people told them that is the acceptable way of dressing. People go to that bar because other people told them to go etc. Since I didn't agree with what people told me to do I was 'strange', strange just because I wanted to think with my head.

It was hard, terribly hard to grow up there. It is hard for a teenager not being accepted and feeling such an outsider. When we are teenagers we need our group of friends to feel accepted but I didn't have a group of friends, I had one friend who I have to thank for making those years bearable. I wanted so badly to be accepted but at the same time I didn't want to give up my personality. I wanted to be able to express myself and I couldn't understand why everyone was making that so difficult. I wished I was different, I wished I could be like the others, believe me, but I wasn't.

By the time I was fifteen I figured out that the only way was to leave. I couldn't find a place for my dreams, my ambitions and my interests where I was and the only way to save myself was to go. I went to England and Ireland to improve and finally be able to speak English. It was hard, people were different from me, from my culture and my mentality but I am stubborn and I don't give up easily so I went to study abroad. When I was eighteen I left my city and what I was familiar to me in the search for my place in the world. I found it but I say this again, it wasn't easy, even if I hated what I left it was still all I was used to.

This explains more or less why I left but it doesn't explain why I didn't stay. Sometimes I think about how easy my life would be if I was just like the majority of the people I met throughout my childhood. They are happy where they are, they don't wonder about what happens outside their comfort zone and they don't go through hard times just to find out. Maybe I left to create opportunities for myself, but it is not that people there don't have opportunities, they have universities, jobs and a standard of living high enough to allow them to explore a bit more. Despite all this, I went and most of them stayed. It is not that I am more clever or capable of those people. I believe many people there are smarter than I am but yet they don't appear interested in exploring and discovering just to see if there is something better somewhere else. You can always come back but I reckon it is worth a look.

Now, I think I found myself or at least I feel closer to that point. I know who I am now and what I am capable of. Sometimes I doubt it, like everyone does, but I know now where to find the strength to go on. I thought that once I had found myself I could have come back and be happy where I used to be but that is not the case. The people that used to know me now see me too tough and too ruthless. They act like they don't know me anymore. I am sorry but I am not tough or ruthless I am exactly like I was, the same person. It is just that when you find yourself in a new environment, usually with people that know each other already you have to toughen yourself up a bit, you need to learn how to be respected and you have to get people to know you as quickly as you can otherwise you will end up alone. This involves learning how to speak your mind, making sure that everyone knows what you like and what you don't. It is easy when you live in a place where everyone knows you to be respected but when you are unfamiliar with the culture and the people surrounding you, or when you are the only foreigner, the migrant you need to find a force inside you that will help to cope with all that is unknown. Sometimes you are the only one who can protect yourself and so you need to be stronger. Sometimes I pretend I am stronger than I actually feel because I am afraid that people will take advantage of me. I have to guard what I really am because people can damage that. If people don't recognise me anymore it is because the person they knew was a scared teenager desperately to find a place to stand. Now that I have found it and I am happy with who I am I am not scared anymore and I am free to share with you who I truly am that is exactly who I was but couldn't show.

Sorry about the long rant, perhaps now you know me a little better. I want to leave you with some pictures of Brussels. You can see how beautiful it looks these days. Good night everyone (and next time I will tell you all about my trip to the hammam)!!








14/10/2013

A new beginning

You all know what happened the past week. The sadness has not gone and the sense of loss is still there and sometimes it manifests itself as a lump in my throat. When it’s dark and cold in my room I tell him what I have been doing during the day and he feels closer to me as he has never left.

 

This is all I am going to say about it because I don’t want to remember the day he left us. He has never left us, he is still here with all of us and he is laughing, chatting and enjoying our company as much as we are enjoying his.

 

From this experience I feel like I came out a completely different person that cannot see life as I used to. I feel like I should take up his example and try as much as possible to be like him. I know it is wrong but it is the only way I can cope.

 

My two last weeks have been very busy.  I had a friend over for five days. We went to Bruges and Gent, two little, picturesque towns in the Dutch-speaking part of the country. The trip made me realise that Belgium is not ugly but it is actually a very pretty country and that Brussels does not reflect the all country at all. I had a really good time with my friend.  We meet on yearly basis just for a week usually but it always feels like we have just seen each other a couple of days before.

 

Then, more than a week ago, I moved into a new flat! I’m so happy about my new accommodation. I live in Rue du Midi, people who have lived or still live in Brussels, probably will turn up their noses. I know it’s not a nice area of the city but it is such a cool and a bit bohemian flat that I couldn’t resist! It feels kind of homey too, like I have already lived here.

 

My room is on the back of the house and it overlooks a terrace but also the neighbour’s living room window which was a bit weird until my flatmate decided to put curtains on! Now I see neither the neighbour nor the terrace but I guess this is the price you have to pay if you don’t want to strip every night for a complete stranger.

 

My flatmate is a very cool Moroccan/ Belgian girl who has a company for commercial and tv series production. She has lived in France, Canada, United States, UK and she has always very interesting things to tell. She is a bit older than me, very generous and kind. The only problem is that she works a lot and so I basically never see her.The first night I had to sleep on my own and it felt very lonely, as I was again on my own in an empty house and a sense of loss. As the days pass I am happy that I can be more on my own because I think I am the kind of person that enjoys her own company.  I can do so many things, which are considering solitary activities and I love doing: painting, writing, reading etc. I also made some progress because when I do this kind of stuff I don’t feel lonely anymore, something that used to happen a lot in the past! What does it mean? That I ‘m growing up finally and that I am more confident about the person I am? I hope so at least, those adolescent years of doubting and fear should have ended quite some time ago!

 

I think that the fact that I don’t feel lonely anymore depends on the kind of job I do. My job is most of the time dealing with people, or at least it has been in the past few days and so I need to stay away from people sometimes! I know I sound like a freak so I want to make it clear: I do enjoy the company of people and of my friends. Here I have lots of fun because I met incredible people but sometimes I need my space because I like that.

 

My job is getting more interesting and a bit more demanding. This makes it more challenging but also a bit more stressful as if sometimes the outcome really depends on how much effort I put into a project. So far not all the outcomes were positive but I have learnt more from the ones that didn’t go as planned than the ones that went well.

 

I have also started to like Brussels a bit more so I have applied for a job at Amnesty International as well as the one at the Commission. This is not the place where I want to settle down but it is full of opportunities for someone who wants to work in international organisations. So I have decided to stay, get the experience I want and need and then move back to London.

 

The only downside is the weather!! It is crazy! This weekend we all went to Bruges and it was so rainy, wet and windy like I have never seen it before in my life! I have lived in England and Russia and really I was not expecting something like that here in Belgium! First of all the wind destroyed my only umbrella that I had bought just a couple of days before, and then the lack of an umbrella completely ruined my hair! You all know how upset I can get if my hair is not as I like it. Despite all of this it was a fun day, spent mostly inside drinking and eating. We went to visit a brewery (can you get more Belgian than that?) and had a beer there, which completely killed me! Belgian beer is so strong for my delicate body!!

 

Today I bought myself a new umbrella that looks solid enough. I am very proud of my new umbrella even though I fear it will break very soon. I am sure I will go through so many umbrellas this winter!!

 

This is all that has happened so far. Hope you are all well. I will be back soon enough with more news!

Good night everyone

03/10/2013

Nonno

A couple of days ago my cool (and cool is exactly the right the way to describe him) grandfather passed away. Here I post a letter to him; just a couple of thoughts I would like him to know. It is in English because once he told me that I had to forget my Italian, something he thought I never needed again. He was so proud to read my e-mails full of mistakes! Russian and English were for him the best combination. As I can't really express my feelings in Russian, I'll do it here in English.


Carissimo Nonno,
I can’t even think that you are not here with us anymore.  I must confess that my first feeling was anger. I was so angry with you for leaving us when we still need you so much! The anger has now gone and it has been replaced by a sense of loss. I feel like something is missing, terribly missing. I love you with all my heart and what I have lost today will never come back again. I know you are not gone forever and that for me you are always alive, here with us but I am going to miss talking to you, sharing opinions and views as well as your shiny candid hair, your deep and big brown eyes and your laugh, your silvery laugh.

When I think of you I think of your smile! Of your round, chubby face smiling. You are always smiling in my thoughts. This is the way I will always remember you.

I met you at the end of your life, when you had already reached all your goals and achievements, when you were both a father and a grandpa. I met you at the very beginning of my life when I didn't even have a goal I wanted to achieve, but you were always a mentor for me and you will always be. It is difficult to find role models that never disappoint you in life; we all have our flaws and you did too, my dear grandpa. These flaws that you had are so similar to mine. How many times I recognised myself in you when you were angry or frustrated. The things that made you angry and frustrated are the same that make me angry and frustrated. It is the way you dealt with these flaws that makes you the perfect model. I like to think that we were very similar in our choices; in the way we built up our lives. I like to think that if we are really so similar that means you will never leave me.

My memories of our time spent together go back to when I was just a little girl and you would come to pick me up from the kindergarten. I don't remember you playing with me like grandma used to do, even though you sometimes played cards with me when I was a bit older and you had never liked cards. You always treated me like a person, an adult, someone that could always understand you. I think of this as the base of our relationship.  I always knew that whatever I did, I thought or said you would always think of me as someone who was worth listening to. We argued and we sometimes disagree but you were always ready to listen to me and consider my opinion, you never talked to me in a condescending or patronising way.

You taught me many things that I would always cherish in my heart.  I am not referring just to our long maths sessions. Those must have been so frustrating for you! Unfortunately, you never had another good scientific mind in the family to share your interests with! I have always been a literate, a linguist. My poor understanding of numbers had me to call you so many times to calculate the exact dosages for a cake, a soup and even a cup of coffee. You always told us that even the perfect housewife needs to know maths and yes, you were right!


I can’t believe you are not here anymore. I can’t believe we are going to put you away in a box somewhere. My life without you will never be the same. You were my guide, grandpa and your pieces of advice; your sense of humour and your attitude to life will always be with me. I would have loved to ask you if you are proud of me and of my choices. Whenever I have any doubt about what I am doing I think of you and of what you would tell me.

Now I am not angry anymore but grateful, grateful because you are my grandpa, grateful because I had you beside me most of my life, grateful because people as special as you are rare in the world and I did not just have the opportunity to meet you but I was lucky to be able to proudly say you are my ‘Nonno”!

So, I will not say ‘goodbye’ because I know I am not saying ‘goodbye’ but simply ‘see you soon’. I know you will always guide and protect me from wherever you are because this is what you have always done and always will.

We had so many discussions about religion and what happens after you are no more. You had your ideas and so many times you told me to have Faith. You had a deep and immeasurable Faith for which I will always admire you immensely. I hope you were not disappointed and that you have found what you had been looking for all your life. I am sure you did; you were always right about many things and I am confident that you were right on this one too.

In a time like this you would have patted me on the shoulder and said ‘Coraggio, Flavia!’. Right now when I feel a knot in my throat I can hear your voice and feel your gentle touch and I smile. You once told me I have always been an optimist, I don't know if that is true but if I really am it is because you taught me to be.

Now, grandpa, I will stop because I can go on forever, I want to tell you so many things!

Now, I kiss you on the cheek and I let you go, certain that you are here in my heart and you will never really leave me to go through life completely on my own.

Ti voglio bene,
Flavia