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a bit 'a bit serious ...' the usual tze!

go home and feel foreign, what a paradox!
are not the 1000 km that separate me from Italy but I have changed the lives of the people I listened, watched, drank, ate, looked and smelled.
during Christmas dinner my ears did not hear the talk around the table but echoed mollifying of Djambi Guinea, the Albanian words and accents East.
my experiment is that a short step before tackling other companies, one of many moments that we are forced to undergo to be able to evolve, yet have never been so confused as now.
I feel very alone in a crowd but now I miss the solitude difficult to win in recent months, after half a year ago to organize parties and events and having to turn off the phone to sleep.
I learned to live alone, to be wrong alone, crying alone, eating alone, sleeping alone.
but I miss the warm and cozy nest of my parents. I do not think it will ever be to be children.

after intimate reflections: cecilia show!
premise sucette = lollipop; Chaussette = sock.
other premise: I did not know what a sucette before this day.
December 6 (St. Nicholas Day, holiday very much felt in Northern Europe, also received small Tze sweet when she was little and lived in Austria); dialogue between child six years of Armenian resident of the center and Cecilia:
child: Madame Cecilia, I have a sucette?
Cecilia (surprised): You ask your mom chaussettes! it is you who is dealing with it!
child: but St. Nicholas has led to all children a sucette! can I have it too?
Cecilia (inclusive): no, what did their mothers have procured!
child (and think a bit 'angry): No, Madame Cecilia, and St. Nicholas!
Cecilia (very satisfied and early dell'incazzatura): no, is the mother who is dealing with, you have to ask you, St. Nicholas brings sweet, not chaussettes!
child walks away dejected.
Cecilia comes home and her roommate gives her a lollipop in the shape of Tweety ... SUCETTE calling!
... ops ...

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how can I be worth? A kriek

I apologize for neglecting the blog ... but I have experienced intense week ...
since my colleague is on vacation (and there is still a month and a half!) Cecilia is itself grappling with a score of children whining and sometimes smelly (but I admit, always fun!) which, by its immense joy ... have had a week of vacation before halloween: holiday for them, double work for me! in a week we turned the table in the center of an amusement park thrill: witches, monsters and entertainers dressed up to scare children. The result? no child is scared ... but they may not have even afraid of werewolves? bah ... maybe after landing in Lampedusa are not afraid even the devil himself ...
after a week full immersion into the wonderful world of the children arrive, the Italian delegation (Black Elk) and the French delegation in Brussels on the occasion of an exchange project on participatory democracy advocated by the EU and Cecilia ... is the official translator! (Also a lecturer at the European parliament ... uhuh ... er ... sorry for the motion of pride ...). the fact is that translation is not so much that makes me very tired as three hours sleep a night (although I have to do to guide the night Brussels, no ?!)... and taste the beer, cherry, raspberry, chocolate ( yuck ...), with blueberries, mango, fishing ... well, it's tiring!
after kisses, hugs and exchanges of addresses msn. with delegations from Gallic and Italic RIXENSART ... back to (where I received a "romantic" marriage proposal from an Afghan boy named ... armani ...) ... then back to italy!
ah ... I love ... and revival take a shower in a bathroom clean and true !!... ...
return is not too much trauma in Brussels (round trip: I addormenatata before takeoff and woke up with the applause of passengers compliments for landing).
Wednesday two young Roma people ask me the keys to the gym ... I do not have. I tell them to ask the front desk but there does not give them to him (in reality in because they had not, because it already worked); them, however, do not understand French very well and the lady at reception was not much tried to explain to them why for not giving them to him. come back to me and ask me to go there in person because they are not given, the largest (A year older than me, 2 children ... and the third on the way) asked me how can I be worthy to have something when I ask? because someone is more worthy of me? how to become worthy? then, did not have the keys to a misunderstanding ... but ... listen to that cry of despair and resignation ... I tore the heart. conclusion: After several rounds (empty them and mine) in search of the key, had her.
the description of the proposed marriage in the next episode.
bonne nuit

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leads to another ....

the middle I made friends with a resident: Oualid. E 'Algerian, 31 years old (5 of which spent in prison, 3 of them in solitary confinement because of his religious beliefs and political). Monday he called me and told me: j'ai reçu the positif! (ie Belgium has recognized this as a political refugee.)
Wow ... At the center
great festive atmosphere, all in a circle to plan the future of Oualid now started looking for a house, a job ... well, it can build a real life. ... Until they approached Burim (20 years, Kosovo Albanian) ... in silence, sad. Not him, he received "the négatif" after a year of waiting ... waiting ... and waiting.
Burim Yesterday, I and other residents of Rixensart we went to a concert. During the pause, he looks at me with two big eyes blacks and asks me: Do not you have a Belgian friend wants to marry me? Instantly begin to laugh but then we stop, we both know that it was a joke but the voice of bitterness and despair.
I invited some 'of people to dine with me tonight and this afternoon Elva Cecilia, industrious, they cooked, a Peruvian dish made with potatoes and garlic (ah. .. that goodness), a sauce vegetable to accompany the Moroccan bread, pasta "cheese and onion" ... there was an atmosphere around the Bolognese style because of the four speakers (too bad there were not faithful companions ... my roommates and living Travel ...). Let's see if the evening will be a success and if the famous Cecilia's parties can be exported en Belgique ... (a intanto. .. bathroom is small).
(I apologize for references Bologna ... but I was educated by a moment of nostalgia ...).
pearls of wisdom. Tony, 5 years: you can not throw out the window, otherwise you may fall on persons who are in that window. A
tantot ...

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a month, no regrets, a hundred thousand times (a hundred thousand colors) Salman Rushdie

front of the paper (electronic ... sigh) white escape ... the words that follow one another in my head ...

In recent weeks I have experienced the full spectrum of human emotions ... The budget

My first long month in Brussels positive. But that effort.

Today I said goodbye to HCB (Center Happy Boy) and his brother, they go to Jordan. So my friends if they leave. We decided not to say goodbye but au revoir their mazmazel was a lie: we know that we shall not see anymore ... you just have to rummage through the corners of memory for laugh a bit 'of our crap (like this: We have closed in the subway because we are not after the last train leaving the station ... and we had to call Monsieur Metro o'clock in the morning to get us to leave ...).

This month there was no lack of Cecilia: Wednesday I received my first important job in the middle, that is suitable for 2 interns to h11 and show them the center and the different services ... well: Cecilia anxious occurred on the track 7 of the Gare du Nord to h9.30 (the train is at 10:52) ... wait ... wait ... here comes the train: I climb, while changes in the electronic scoreboard and part an announcement: the train does not go in Rixensart! Um ... but those who understand voice announcements? They close the doors ... the train leaves ... and I read carelessly the direction Leuven ... in my head frozen light a bulb (too late) ... Leuven ????? It is not my direction #%&!§ off at the first station: Schaarbeek (read: the Bronx). The station is deserted, the voice announcement fault, no electronic scoreboard, schedules scribbled ... at that moment I wanted to cry. But finally I've gotten (and, of course, I arrived late to the official put my first assignment). Meanwhile, the emergency continues

cold ptag rue 58 ... as I write in the kitchen I turned on 3 burners to heat the room.

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Brussels without cars, metro free! A real godsend ... so me and we took the opportunity to Nermin we went to the cinema Kinepolis (27 beautiful rooms ... wow wow, I'd say) ... to see Mirrors (which do not recommend it to everyone who has a heart murmur or are emotionally ... that I would not have to go to see it ...).
My week starts with a beautiful awakening h6: 30 to go to French school ... where I find that a terrible fatwa hanging over my head.
The teacher gives us a discussion topic: racism ... and the debate inevitably slips on religion (remember: my class is composed of 10 girls, 7 of which referred to 3 practicing Muslim wearing the veil) and my neighbor bench wrapped in his diving suit me severe announced that a lost soul as
a) atheist (if I were a Christian, meaning "people of the book" I had some chance of redemption)
b) I had more with morosini which I have not spent any time talking about meteorology before marriage
c) do not wear the veil, and this does not make me worthy of the respect for people.
Very good.
A little 'pissed off I tried to explain that
a) I do not believe in God but not for all this violates the 10 commandments
b) l'amour c'est l'amour
c) men should begin to rein in their hormones even if they see a hair that falls on the cheek of a lovely girl. Hmmm
but my neighbor's desk, as well as the right arm of Al Qaeda from what I understand, has not deigned to hear my comments and did not use half-measures to tell me that I do not believe in God but when I die God will judge us and will be my cock.
loooong well.
I thought my day was not over Once out of the school gate but life holds for us a lot of surprises. After 3 hours at Rixensart
to do absolutely nothing because there was absolutely nothing to do (except, of course, play pool) and after eating a TERRIBLE overcooked pasta and tasteless at the table of my heart ... I get on fine Walloon train ... and I am filled with a pungent smell of cognac, a drunk passed out in my car.
I think only one word: Yuppiduppidu
the conductor arrives, comes the security guard arrives ... the ambulance comes to take Monsieur Alcolique the station. Fortunately
home I was expecting a nice cup of tea with cinnamon prepared with much love from my roommates Romanian (atheist) ... Home sweet home
ah! If you do not write more about the blog ... it is because the Supreme Court of Islamic Emirate of Brussels made me blow up like the Buddhas of Bamiyan ...

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I feel now the night comes down with his cold hands on me, but how cold is cold but that is a political refugee

Arctic climate, technology questionable ... this is not a section of the blog: THIS ' AN SOS! How do you turn on the stove Potagère rue 58??

Occhei, I learned to turn the water heater in the bathroom losing two toes to gangrene in the effort to crush those tiny little buttons and pressing them very hard but for 6 hours straight ... now I'm at level two: turn on the heater in the kitchen.

Roberta and I have continuously pressed whatever was squeezable on the stove for 20 minutes at a rien à fair ... but if you no longer have my news ... it's because I did the same end of the star of "Into the Wild": intoxicated from the table of Rixensart, frozen in my bed. RIP

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Today I learned what the term political refugee. I learned that 3-year universities, newspapers and news I had never been taught.

My ears have heard (and hear) stories of horror that even Tarantino's imagination could conceive.

are so full of disgust that I do not know what to think or say or write. I can only listen and nod and try to understand but I can not because my life has taught me not gold What is the fear of death. Today I learned what the term refugee and I felt useless.

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Josh Hartnett is not washing clothes St. Josse

First day of "work" in Rixensart. 40 minutes by train to get to Pleasantville (I think there are no real towns like Rixensart ... is nothing but a meticulous reconstruction of a small town in the heart of American-Cinecittà) 15-minute trail straight ahead (it is Pleasantville!) To reach the center domandeurs for asylum. Thanks Roberta for taking me (the partnership between Italy and Romania Stainless steel is ... especially when we ask, where are you from? Romania! Ahiahiahai ... and you? Italy ... oh la poubelle! Yeah Italy, Romania, a face, a race ... oh ... I'll create a group on feisbuc). Henryk M.

I accept, the literacy worker who knows more or less thirty languages, introduces me Sorina, the officer in the service after-school, Italian-Romanian now living in Belgium who hates the rain and clouds and regrets Padova . I'm told that everything must be kept under key: office, bathroom, playroom, dining room, library, computer room (I wonder residents are keeping them under key?!? Oh no ... it is Ramadan, a fly does not fly).

I get my fork, my knife, my spoon and my bowl and my cup. Short (short?! Cerese is as big as this center!) Tour of the center ... many ... too many handshakes, kisses on the cheek!

Yes, yes I'm the one who replaces Julie and I'm here one year. I come from Italy ... yes, we are full of waste.

Brief blah blah with all (Have you drank Belgian beer? Ah yes, even in Albania I've got an intestinal virus! And little things like that ... and finally, the mess! Much better than I had said! Maud good cook! )

Afternoon of billiards: Because the kids return to the three school Oualid for two hours patiently tried to teach me how to hit a billiard ball ... with poor results ... and its huge disappointment ... and once I even did win!

Here come the kids ... playing pool or watching TV ... then a little 'DIY with Monsieur Bricolage (the kids call it that!).

My head smokes: the males are called Muhammad, Mohamed, Ahmed, Madou, Hisham, Achid, Hassan, Hosein and Hussein (find the seven differences between these names) and no one guesses it ...

Sorina departs to station (he lives in Liège!) I follow (if not get lost among the meandering gorges and corridors du Centre). I wait 20 minutes the train arrives very punctual and I almost get emotional (but then I am truly at Cinecittà and everything is possible!) And after 40 minutes during which I wonder if that child was called Hashim Hisham or arrival at the Gare du North that is straight in the red light district of Brussels. All

straight and come home, shove a lot in all my dirty clothes and I ran to the laundromat where I do not understand absolutely nothing about the machine but I try and tries again and eventually moved to pity a woman comes up and tells me how the various buttons. Wash, wipe and go back home wondering where the St. Josse Josh Hartnett (who in this film Mohamed Abdul to call it) ... going from my greengrocer / pasta maker / baker / butcher / fishmonger / newspapers / electrician was a great buy mango juice with subtitles in Arabic, but as he closed the door of the fridge I dropped the cans on a bottle of coke glass of water causing a movement of anger evident in the grocery / pasta maker / baker / butcher / fishmonger / newspapers / electrician who greets me with a friendly at all au revoir.

Et voila.

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Goodbye Italy, Hello

Brussels delated 14:20 ...
... and then I am thrown in Belgium ... (After a nice trip of 1 hour and 50 minutes of pure turbulence ... but BelleAir Tirana-Verona ...).
All'areoporto Andreea and Julie have come to take my new flatmates most high 'of six feet one o'clock ... and I felt tiny ... both for the obvious reasons of height difference ... is' \u200b\u200bcause I think it was the first high school I was in a place totally alien and totally alone ... Sob Sob Sob Sob

? How to tell mom and dad ... You wanted the bike? mo 'tze pedals!
and started to pedal ...
ride ... scoured the neighborhood (turkish, but really turkish)
socializer ... drink beer based on light ... light ... 2-3 9 degrees
caresses to my unexpected new roommate (and initially low welcome) Sasha ... a dog!
LIVE WITH A DOG ?!?!?!?!
And today ... rendez-vous with the Belgian bureaucracy ... almost pleasant! Smiling people at the counter! I repeated eight times the same thing ... because my French and 'still in a vegetative stupor embarrassing ...
From Brussels and 'everything goodbye.

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Mama give me my hundred pounds that I want to go to Belgium!

...- 3 months ... -2 Weeks ... -5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... days ... and tomorrow we leave!
who started before me told me that the night before we ask "who made me do?"
... every time this question have made me (especially when I could not close the suitcase XXL now weighs three times the permitted kg alitalia flight tomorrow and that will cost me at check-in sweating all over the salary earned to the mosquito), but the desire to leave is not too strong to be able to obey his orders ...
and so on, let's try this EVS and even start a blog, I said to myself ...
Tomorrow will write Tze your correspondent from Brussels, Belgium.
For now it's all from San Cataldo, we will update you in future editions.