First part of the post 🙂
Here I am again, it seems like I started a challenge between my blog and me.
To write everyday on my blog under the month of April.
If someone would like to do it I have an advice. When you have your inspiration as writer you have to write as much as you can, dividing arguments in different posts. In this way, piling up posts if you do not want to write or just do not have something to write about, you can pick one post the day you want to publish something, and the work is done!
I will talk about some “urban myths” about Italy, heard here in Sweden.
To start, I have to say that:
pizza and pasta are italian
we DO NOT have ketchup on pasta
we DO NOT have kebab meat on pizza
we DO NOT have lettuce on pizza
Caesar sald is not Italian
we DO NOT cut pasta, we roll it! ahaha
a good pizza is not the one with kilos of dressing, but the one with a good bread. Bread for us was and it is currently like potatoes for Sweds.
The most of our pizzas are vegetarian
In Italy we do not eat much, we eat healthy! We are what we eat! And I do not want to become a piece of butter!
So after this, I MUST say that we do not think just about food 😉
We are not noisy, it is the Italian that sounds noisy, and if you do not talk loudly you do not get the beautiful of the language everyone talks about outside Italy.
We do not feel so exotic and we think that Argentine and Spain are exotic countries, but after a year in Sweden I can say that yes, we are exotic!
Looking back in the blog, reading old posts, like the one where I talked about the first day of school, or when I started to feel “more in the class” in the first class, make me very sad.
I remembered the first day of school when someone asked me if I talked Swedish and then they turned saying: “she does not speak Swedish at all”! I should be happy to recognize that I can speak good Swedish now, but it is a little time remaining and this makes me sad.
Another day when I tried to know which class I was in and the teacher told me that, but in the same time I heard too many voices from everywhere, and I did not understand anything and I asked if she could speak in English..in the background there was someone smiling that understood how I felt. It is incredible how these little things are printed in my memory!
Going on is difficult. Leaving past experiences and look forward to the next exciting thing to do to have some memories, every time better ones.
With no doubts, this is the strangest and stupid and funny post I wrote until now.
When I have videochat with my family, we nearly cry of happiness, so it was good to decide to do not have so many videochats in the last period. Just one at the end of April, one at the end of Maj and then we will see at home directly at the end of June. Yesterday we had a videochat anyway, but they nearly had an heart attack reading about the post of the April trick (in Swedish, april skämt, in Italian pesce d’aprile that means April fish)
Yesterday we met with the choir of Råda, Ekshärad and Hagfors to train for the concert in the church of Råda this Sunday. The bishop of Karlstad will come to celebrate a mass and it will be a big thing, and we are nearly seventy persons singing!
I was thinking about my return in Rome. Will it be difficult to feel at home again? They say it happens, but I wonder how can it be so.
People escaped from war countries feels at home after decades of years coming back to that place which was their growing home.
I think about the hobbies I will do again and that gave me a lot of happiness. Here I have so much time that it happens to do not use it so much good as I should. In Rome a lot of hobbies make me happy because I do it after I have succeeded with my home-works and study, and I feel very free, but here it is different.
Today I came from school and I took the bike.
It was October the last time I cycled.
I felt so free and I took a friend with me.
It sounds stupid but the friend is called James Blunt.
His songs sound like he was looking for something to give to someone that wanted exactly to listen to that kind of music! It is just wonderful.
I cycled 7 km till Råda, on the other side of the lake.
I could not recognize my home the first weeks I used to cycle until there. It was August or September.
Now I know that it is the smallest one, the one that looks like a cube. It is red and white of course, but there is something that makes it different from the others. There is a little yellow wood door in the backside, that door we use to open when himlen är klart och det blåser inte så mycket, alltså när det är skönt ute! (when the sky is clear and it is not so windy, when it is pleasing outside!).
The door that does not close good and does not even open when it becomes cold in the winter.
The door I crossed last summer to have dinner with my host family, after had jumped on the trampoline.
It is the third house in Strandvägen. It is my home.
Hope you liked the post.
See you soon!