Yesterday, we decided to go to Ikea, along with three of Paolo’s friends (all male, by the way). If you’ve never experienced Ikea, it’s a like an amusement park for women. Everything you could possibly need for your house is in one huge store, with displays, customization options, etc. And all for great prices. The thought of going with four boys seemed like the start of a joke, but really it isn’t even the strangest thing I experienced yesterday.
Now let me set the scene for you. We had to drive to the outskirts of Milan to go, which is about 30 minutes away. The road we used was about the equivalent of a US highway, some country, some city areas, etc. There were five of us squished in a Volkswagon Golf, with expectations of buying lots of things. And it was mid-afternoon and raining. Ok, now on to the good part.
About 10 minutes into our drive, I noticed a woman sitting in a chair, about 15 feet away from a fruit stand, well-dressed, with a large umbrella. There was nothing else really in the area, other than the fruit stand. The only thing I could guess was that she was waiting on a bus. The boys were all talking, but I can’t always understand everything, so I didn’t really pay attention. About five minutes later, I saw another woman in exactly the same strange situation; seated in the middle of nowhere, with an umbrella. So I finally just asked what was up with that. The boys all told me that they were prostitutes, but I really couldn’t believe it at first. I mean, I can’t really see that there’s a great market for prostitution on a rainy afternoon on the way to Ikea. But clearly, I was wrong. We saw at least five more after that, some more scantily clad than others, one who was most likely a man. So of course I had to ask questions.
Apparently, when they get a job, they either go to nearby motels, or the “customers” just pull over their car. After finding that out, I noticed several cars pulled over randomly; one with an open umbrella beside it. I’m still in slight disbelief, because I mean, it’s almost like drive-thru prostitutes.
I’ve seen them before of course, but never in the middle of the day. In the middle of the country. In the rain. And furthermore, this can’t be very safe. Not that the oldest profession has ever been the safest, but to just be alone in the middle of a cow pasture, with only your thigh highs and an umbrella can’t really be the smartest thing ever. And the business side of me really can’t help but question whether this is really the best scheme for making money. It seems like most people looking for hookers probably would be looking elsewhere, not on the way into a city, in the afternoon. Maybe I just don’t know the market that well, but I thought they were called “ladies of the night” for a reason.
Sidenote: prostitution is illegal in Italy. But like many other things here, it is slightly overlooked. Until Berlusconi hires one at least, in which case the media makes a huge deal over it, and then the public will most likely choose to re-elect him as PM.
The Ikea trip was lovely, by the way; I would highly encourage you to go if you’ve never been to one before. It’s one of my favorite companies because of the structure and efficiency of it, which I won’t go into as to not bore everyone who doesn't love the business details. Not to mention the incredible deals and ideas you’ll get there. So if you ever need some new home furnishings/decorations/accessories, make your way to the closest Ikea, and make a game of counting the umbrellas along the way.
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
So Stereotypical..
In America, when we think about Italians, several images come to mind. One is the image of a huge family, eating tons of food, and being really loud. Another is that they are all super stylish, dressing in only the finest clothes at all times. And for women, we have the impression that Italian men are the sexiest in the world, all just waiting to woo us in a gondola.
For sure, these images have some basis in truth, but like most stereotypes, they’re just generalizations. In fact, I’ve seen many not so stylish people here. People do at least get dressed here (no pajamas in public), but not everyone is so elegant. And of course some of the men are beautiful (yes, Paolo, you are included!), but it’s not exactly just one drop dead gorgeous man after another. As for the giant feasts, Paolo claims this is a southern thing, and I’ve never been there, so I don’t know. However, one stereotype that is definitely true is that all Italian women love to give advice. On everything. I experienced it first in December, when I was cooking a huge Thanksgiving dinner. One of Paolo’s roommate’s mom was visiting, and she literally sat in the kitchen watching me cook for hours, giving me advice in Italian. I didn’t speak a word of Italian at the time, and moreover, I think I know a little more than an Italian about cooking roast turkey, sweet potato casserole, stuffing, etc. If it was pasta, ok, give me all the advice you want, but come on. I’m from Alabama, I can school any Italian in soul food.
Anyways, this continued with random women on trains giving me advice when I had a cold, and other stupid things. The Family is an endless supply of advice for me. I should dry my hair immediately after showering to not catch cold, don’t run the air conditioning when you are wet, etc. Now that I’m pregnant, this advice is multiplied by infinity. Everyone wants to offer solutions for my problems; some are helpful, some are ridiculous. Most are fairly old fashioned.
But this is probably because so few people here are even pregnant that they never found new solutions. Or learned anything about modern pregnancy research. I’ve had so many people offer me wine or beer with dinner. In America, no one would offer me drinks, knowing that I was pregnant. Here they’re far more relaxed; when I say, “No thanks, I’m pregnant, I’m not supposed to drink”, they usually wave me off and tell me one won’t hurt.. Then I have to explain that I prefer not to take the risk; it isn’t worth it, and they just look at me like I’m extremely bizarre. In fact, most things that American doctors would tell you not to do or eat, people here don’t care about (drugs aside). I was encouraged by my doctor here to eat sushi, although prosciutto was forbidden. I don’t get it. Raw is raw. And they also don’t care at all about caffeine here; in the land of cappucinos and macchiatos, caffeine restriction is unacceptable.
And there is certainly no one my age is having babies; you should be at least 30. I’m like a modern day leper. It’s hard to blame them though; this is not a society that accomodates babies. You have to have money to have babies, which is why few people have them, and those that do don’t have many. The birth rate in Italy is around 1.2 per couple, which is extremely low. But I guess if you have to pay $13 for one onesie, you think twice about kids. Not only is everything baby related expensive, but it’s hard to find. There’s no Babies’R’Us or anything relatively similar. I was starting to think that poor Alessandro was going to have to be naked for his first six weeks, but yesterday I struck gold by finding out that a local baby clothing store, Prenatal, was actually the outlet version of the original store. I was so happy to find that, because at 75% off, the clothing was finally affordable or at least comparable to baby clothing in the US. If Italy really wants to work on their birth rate, they will make the country more baby-friendly. They’re starting to offer more government benefits for those who have kids, but what they need is more competition in the baby market, and more options for daycare. There are two chains that dominate in Italy (Prenatal and Chicco), and so they can charge as much as they want. This is why people buy such ridiculously expensive strollers here. Partly because it’s somehow a status symbol, but mostly because it’s what’s available. People will shell out $600+ for a Bugaboo simply because there aren’t many options, and certainly no Graco.
So if you want to send some onesies, my address is.. Just kidding! We just have to make it six weeks approximately after his birth, then I’ll be back in the US, with no euro-dollar conversion.
Ciao for now!
Kathleen
For sure, these images have some basis in truth, but like most stereotypes, they’re just generalizations. In fact, I’ve seen many not so stylish people here. People do at least get dressed here (no pajamas in public), but not everyone is so elegant. And of course some of the men are beautiful (yes, Paolo, you are included!), but it’s not exactly just one drop dead gorgeous man after another. As for the giant feasts, Paolo claims this is a southern thing, and I’ve never been there, so I don’t know. However, one stereotype that is definitely true is that all Italian women love to give advice. On everything. I experienced it first in December, when I was cooking a huge Thanksgiving dinner. One of Paolo’s roommate’s mom was visiting, and she literally sat in the kitchen watching me cook for hours, giving me advice in Italian. I didn’t speak a word of Italian at the time, and moreover, I think I know a little more than an Italian about cooking roast turkey, sweet potato casserole, stuffing, etc. If it was pasta, ok, give me all the advice you want, but come on. I’m from Alabama, I can school any Italian in soul food.
Anyways, this continued with random women on trains giving me advice when I had a cold, and other stupid things. The Family is an endless supply of advice for me. I should dry my hair immediately after showering to not catch cold, don’t run the air conditioning when you are wet, etc. Now that I’m pregnant, this advice is multiplied by infinity. Everyone wants to offer solutions for my problems; some are helpful, some are ridiculous. Most are fairly old fashioned.
But this is probably because so few people here are even pregnant that they never found new solutions. Or learned anything about modern pregnancy research. I’ve had so many people offer me wine or beer with dinner. In America, no one would offer me drinks, knowing that I was pregnant. Here they’re far more relaxed; when I say, “No thanks, I’m pregnant, I’m not supposed to drink”, they usually wave me off and tell me one won’t hurt.. Then I have to explain that I prefer not to take the risk; it isn’t worth it, and they just look at me like I’m extremely bizarre. In fact, most things that American doctors would tell you not to do or eat, people here don’t care about (drugs aside). I was encouraged by my doctor here to eat sushi, although prosciutto was forbidden. I don’t get it. Raw is raw. And they also don’t care at all about caffeine here; in the land of cappucinos and macchiatos, caffeine restriction is unacceptable.
And there is certainly no one my age is having babies; you should be at least 30. I’m like a modern day leper. It’s hard to blame them though; this is not a society that accomodates babies. You have to have money to have babies, which is why few people have them, and those that do don’t have many. The birth rate in Italy is around 1.2 per couple, which is extremely low. But I guess if you have to pay $13 for one onesie, you think twice about kids. Not only is everything baby related expensive, but it’s hard to find. There’s no Babies’R’Us or anything relatively similar. I was starting to think that poor Alessandro was going to have to be naked for his first six weeks, but yesterday I struck gold by finding out that a local baby clothing store, Prenatal, was actually the outlet version of the original store. I was so happy to find that, because at 75% off, the clothing was finally affordable or at least comparable to baby clothing in the US. If Italy really wants to work on their birth rate, they will make the country more baby-friendly. They’re starting to offer more government benefits for those who have kids, but what they need is more competition in the baby market, and more options for daycare. There are two chains that dominate in Italy (Prenatal and Chicco), and so they can charge as much as they want. This is why people buy such ridiculously expensive strollers here. Partly because it’s somehow a status symbol, but mostly because it’s what’s available. People will shell out $600+ for a Bugaboo simply because there aren’t many options, and certainly no Graco.
So if you want to send some onesies, my address is.. Just kidding! We just have to make it six weeks approximately after his birth, then I’ll be back in the US, with no euro-dollar conversion.
Ciao for now!
Kathleen
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Weekend in Budapest
Ok, so now for the long-awaited Budapest report. First of all, like I said previously, we decided to go to Budapest because of the cheap flight via Ryanair. We wanted to go on just a quick weekend trip, one last hoorah before the baby, if you will, so a 2 euro flight to a cheap Eastern European country was exactly what we were looking for.
I didn’t really know that much about Budapest before, other than that it used to be two cities (Buda and Pest), and that there were thermal baths there. After visiting, I can’t really say that now I have a deep knowledge on the history of Budapest, but this is probably because I don’t really buy into the whole bus/tour guide operation. I prefer to experience the city for myself, to explore, get lost, etc. So that is what we did. In retrospect, I would say that in my current condition, this backpacking mentality didn’t work out great. Wandering aimlessly, getting lost at night, etc, can be even charming in good conditions, but at 6 1/2 months pregnant, it was not as much fun. By the end of three days, my feet were literally twice their normal size. Nevertheless, I will still look back on Budapest as being a beautiful city and will give it another chance in the future.
The thing about Budapest is that when you were where you were trying to be, it was fantastic. The city is very beautiful, especially in the center. It is very similar to Prague in structure and architecture. There are two sides, divided by a river, with a castle area on one side, and city center on the other, so it is really easy to confuse with Prague. Budapest is in general cheaper than Prague, and most of Western Europe. Many of the meals we ate were around $5, and included multiple courses. Like Prague, beer was cheaper than water (unfortunately for me). If you ordered water, you were given a tiny glass bottle of water, which if you know me, could get very expensive, even in Budapest, given the amount that I drink. The public transportation was quite good; the metro ran about every 4 minutes, so not much waiting. It took a little getting used to the routes, like with any city. The city was, for the most part, clean and well kept (near the center at least). There were many things to see and do there, surprisingly. Maybe it was just the pace we were moving, but I think staying a couple more days wouldn't have hurt, especially since we never even made it to the thermal baths.
It was however, easy to see why people generally choose Prague over Budapest. Prague has really grown their tourist industry since the fall of the Iron Curtain. Budapest seems to just now be hopping onto that train. Most signs, public announcements, etc, were only in Hungarian, which is not exactly the up and coming language in the world. I would expect that in a smaller town, but I thought in the capital English would be more present. Also, there wasn’t great signage. We spent almost two hours looking for the castle area, because it wasn’t clearly marked on our map, and we couldn’t see signs for it, even though it’s probably the main attraction of Budapest. Once again, these are probably things that wouldn’t have bothered me so much if I was not pregnant. That’s my bad; I overestimated my abilities.
All in all, I think Budapest should make it onto more people’s travel lists. Many people who come to Europe only come to the big 3 (London, Paris, and Rome), but there really are a lot of other gems out there waiting to be seen. There is a certain charm to a place that hasn’t been completely overrun by tourists, and a better opportunity to understand their culture. Paolo actually ranked Budapest as his #2 favorite city, right behind Venice, so that’s high praise. I would like to go back sometime when I’m in better shape to traipse around a city; I think I would appreciate it more that time around. I took some videos while I was there so you can virtually visit and maybe it will inspire a real visit someday! And also, I apologize for Paolo’s sometimes sideways videotaping, and my sub-par reporting and editing skills, or lack thereof.
There you have it! Let me know if the video doesn't work; I wouldn't be terribly surprised based on my technology skills.
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
Thursday, September 20, 2012
What's to Come..
I really did write about Budapest, but since I’m at the beach, I just have an internet key, and the connection is to slow to upload my videos. So that one will have to wait for another day.
I’m officially 30 weeks pregnant as of Saturday, so that seems big. It’s not actually a milestone I guess, but to me it just seems like time is flying by. In a way this is good, because I’m excited of course. Mainly because I finally get to meet this baby that I’ve been baking for almost seven months, but also because it means I don’t have to be pregnant anymore. Let me just tell you, these women who say that pregnancy is so wonderful and they miss being pregnant are big, fat LIARS (here’s looking at you, Jessica Simpson). I have had a relatively easy pregnancy, but I seriously doubt that I’ll miss it. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, because I can never comfortably arrange my gigantic stomach. And every time I am finally about to sleep, the baby starts to Irish folk dance. Which I can’t complain about, because it’s sweet. But I have a strong suspicion that he’s going to be a night owl, so that’s going to be super fun. I used to try to convince my parents it wasn’t dark outside when it clearly was, so he comes by it honestly.
Actually, if it weren’t for the constant discomfort and backpain, etc., I would say that pregnancy was easy. Knock on wood. My Auburn roommate is a nurse, and gave me a maternity textbook, and it straight up terrified me. There were very detailed descriptions and even pictures of things such as hemorrhoids, infections, and everything else that could possibly go wrong. I’m not out of the woods yet, but I am very grateful that those things haven’t gotten to me yet, because they looked repulsive. Between that book and all the websites with all their “Things You Didn’t Know About Labor” articles, I’m not looking forward to D-day. Have I mentioned they don’t use much epidural here?? Apparently the Vatican says that women are to bear the pain of childbirth, so epidural is hard to come by. Guess who the Vatican consists of? MEN. I’d like to see those men do what I’m supposed to do. It’s amazing what women can bear, but men can’t handle. Paolo freaks out over a cut on his foot, but I’m walking down the street in Budapest with contractions (just Braxton Hicks, no worries) and feet swollen to double their normal size, and I’m told to stop complaining. Men are ridiculous.
Anyways, so I’m getting nervous for the labor itself, but also for all that follows. In other words, motherhood. It’s such a life change. From everything I hear, it’s the most wonderful thing ever, but it’s also a huge responsibility. The closer it gets,the more I think about that. Everything changes in life, everything you do, you have to consider another person. It’s strange to imagine, even at 30 weeks pregnant. I mean, technically I’m already having to consider another person, but it’s not the same, and the reality of what’s coming hasn’t hit yet. It probably doesn’t until it happens, I suppose. Growing up is strange.
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
I’m officially 30 weeks pregnant as of Saturday, so that seems big. It’s not actually a milestone I guess, but to me it just seems like time is flying by. In a way this is good, because I’m excited of course. Mainly because I finally get to meet this baby that I’ve been baking for almost seven months, but also because it means I don’t have to be pregnant anymore. Let me just tell you, these women who say that pregnancy is so wonderful and they miss being pregnant are big, fat LIARS (here’s looking at you, Jessica Simpson). I have had a relatively easy pregnancy, but I seriously doubt that I’ll miss it. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, because I can never comfortably arrange my gigantic stomach. And every time I am finally about to sleep, the baby starts to Irish folk dance. Which I can’t complain about, because it’s sweet. But I have a strong suspicion that he’s going to be a night owl, so that’s going to be super fun. I used to try to convince my parents it wasn’t dark outside when it clearly was, so he comes by it honestly.
Actually, if it weren’t for the constant discomfort and backpain, etc., I would say that pregnancy was easy. Knock on wood. My Auburn roommate is a nurse, and gave me a maternity textbook, and it straight up terrified me. There were very detailed descriptions and even pictures of things such as hemorrhoids, infections, and everything else that could possibly go wrong. I’m not out of the woods yet, but I am very grateful that those things haven’t gotten to me yet, because they looked repulsive. Between that book and all the websites with all their “Things You Didn’t Know About Labor” articles, I’m not looking forward to D-day. Have I mentioned they don’t use much epidural here?? Apparently the Vatican says that women are to bear the pain of childbirth, so epidural is hard to come by. Guess who the Vatican consists of? MEN. I’d like to see those men do what I’m supposed to do. It’s amazing what women can bear, but men can’t handle. Paolo freaks out over a cut on his foot, but I’m walking down the street in Budapest with contractions (just Braxton Hicks, no worries) and feet swollen to double their normal size, and I’m told to stop complaining. Men are ridiculous.
Anyways, so I’m getting nervous for the labor itself, but also for all that follows. In other words, motherhood. It’s such a life change. From everything I hear, it’s the most wonderful thing ever, but it’s also a huge responsibility. The closer it gets,the more I think about that. Everything changes in life, everything you do, you have to consider another person. It’s strange to imagine, even at 30 weeks pregnant. I mean, technically I’m already having to consider another person, but it’s not the same, and the reality of what’s coming hasn’t hit yet. It probably doesn’t until it happens, I suppose. Growing up is strange.
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
Monday, September 17, 2012
Adventures in Public Health Care
Ok, I know I said I would write about Budapest next, but I really have to share my first emergency room experience. Yes, first. I was not the kind of kid that was always getting hurt, at least nothing my dad couldn’t fix.
Anyways, Saturday I finally faced the fact that I had somehow gotten a UTI or something similar (gross, sorry). I blame it on never being able to find bathrooms in Budapest, but that’s beside the point. So we decided to go to the emergency room, which is about a 10 minute walk from the beach house (we’re back at the beach, btw). I have what is basically a green card here, and therefore, access to the public health system. This does not however mean that everything is free (for all you universal health care advocates). I thought that the visit would be quick and easy, I just wanted the antibiotics. But once the doctor saw me, he told me that he wouldn’t treat me because I was pregnant, and there is no gynecologist/OB ward at the hospital. Granted, it is a hospital in a beach town, so it’s not huge, but come on.. half the women in this town are pregnant. What if you go into labor? Apparently you have to take an ambulance to another hospital.
I can understand why the doctor didn’t want to treat me; he said he didn’t want to be responsible if something went wrong. But there’s no gynecologist?? Ugh. So we had to take a family trip to a nearby town to try their hospital. They let me in immediately, and did full prenatal testing, including ultrasounds and 30 minutes hooked up to a fetal heart monitor. After they deduced that everything was fine with Baby, they informed me that they could not do the blood test there until Monday when the lab was open, so I would have to come back. Are you kidding me??? This is not something you want to just live with until the lab is open. And then wait two days for results. And besides that, Paolo and his parents were leaving Sunday night (Yes, I have the beach house to myself for a week!!), so I had no way to get back to this hospital.
So we came up with the alternate solution of me coming back to Treviso, Paolo’s hometown, for the test Monday morning, then taking a bus back to the beach. However, when I woke up Sunday, I felt like a new woman, almost entirely better. I no longer saw the need to take this ridiculous test, especially if I was going to have to wait until Wednesday to even get treatment for it, if they saw that I had it. Surprisingly, Paolo’s parents also agreed that I shouldn’t get the test if I felt fine, so I got to stay at the beach. But we all agreed that I should at least go back to the emergency room this morning to have the one test done that they were able to do there, just for good measure.
I woke up bright and early (9AM) this morning, and dragged myself over to the hospital, urine sample in hand. BTW, here you take your urine sample at home and then bring it to the lab. Sounds both disgusting and like a great way to forge drug tests. Anyhow, I got there at 9:30, which I thought for sure was early enough. No such luck. The lab is only open from 7:30-9:15 AM. I hope whoever works there doesn’t actually think they have a real job. If you work less than two hours a day, you might as well be unemployed. I begged with my best Italian for them to please do my test anyways, which they actually said yes to, surprisingly (probably because I’m roughly the size of a small whale). But then the guy told me that since I’m pregnant, I have to pay for the test. If I wasn’t, it would be for free. To which I replied in the most polite way possible, “Are you kidding me?” Sorry, but I find it ridiculous to pay anything for a test that everyone else can take for free, and that I don’t even need. I don’t care to seek treatment anyways at this point since I feel better; it was mainly to appease The Family.
Basically, the whole thing was completely stupid. I can’t believe that something as simple as a UTI can’t be treated more easily and quickly than that. Everyone I dealt with was very nice and helpful, but their system sucks. Nothing is computerized, you carry your paperwork from doctor to doctor. Which judging by my experience, you may be going from doctor to doctor a lot more often than you would expect. I probably shouldn’t complain too much, since most of the services are for free, but they aren’t really. For the taxpayers here, they are very much paying for the services. I feel like I’m somewhat taking advantage of the system, but on the other hand, I’m also giving them another citizen, which with their current birthrate, is much needed. And I may be working here someday, so I don’t feel too bad about the whole situation. The system has some merit, but needs a serious overhaul. It could be so much more efficient and user friendly.
At least now I know what I’m up against. I won’t be returning to an Italian emergency room unless it’s absolutely urgent, because that’s the only way I’ll receive urgent services.
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
Anyways, Saturday I finally faced the fact that I had somehow gotten a UTI or something similar (gross, sorry). I blame it on never being able to find bathrooms in Budapest, but that’s beside the point. So we decided to go to the emergency room, which is about a 10 minute walk from the beach house (we’re back at the beach, btw). I have what is basically a green card here, and therefore, access to the public health system. This does not however mean that everything is free (for all you universal health care advocates). I thought that the visit would be quick and easy, I just wanted the antibiotics. But once the doctor saw me, he told me that he wouldn’t treat me because I was pregnant, and there is no gynecologist/OB ward at the hospital. Granted, it is a hospital in a beach town, so it’s not huge, but come on.. half the women in this town are pregnant. What if you go into labor? Apparently you have to take an ambulance to another hospital.
I can understand why the doctor didn’t want to treat me; he said he didn’t want to be responsible if something went wrong. But there’s no gynecologist?? Ugh. So we had to take a family trip to a nearby town to try their hospital. They let me in immediately, and did full prenatal testing, including ultrasounds and 30 minutes hooked up to a fetal heart monitor. After they deduced that everything was fine with Baby, they informed me that they could not do the blood test there until Monday when the lab was open, so I would have to come back. Are you kidding me??? This is not something you want to just live with until the lab is open. And then wait two days for results. And besides that, Paolo and his parents were leaving Sunday night (Yes, I have the beach house to myself for a week!!), so I had no way to get back to this hospital.
So we came up with the alternate solution of me coming back to Treviso, Paolo’s hometown, for the test Monday morning, then taking a bus back to the beach. However, when I woke up Sunday, I felt like a new woman, almost entirely better. I no longer saw the need to take this ridiculous test, especially if I was going to have to wait until Wednesday to even get treatment for it, if they saw that I had it. Surprisingly, Paolo’s parents also agreed that I shouldn’t get the test if I felt fine, so I got to stay at the beach. But we all agreed that I should at least go back to the emergency room this morning to have the one test done that they were able to do there, just for good measure.
I woke up bright and early (9AM) this morning, and dragged myself over to the hospital, urine sample in hand. BTW, here you take your urine sample at home and then bring it to the lab. Sounds both disgusting and like a great way to forge drug tests. Anyhow, I got there at 9:30, which I thought for sure was early enough. No such luck. The lab is only open from 7:30-9:15 AM. I hope whoever works there doesn’t actually think they have a real job. If you work less than two hours a day, you might as well be unemployed. I begged with my best Italian for them to please do my test anyways, which they actually said yes to, surprisingly (probably because I’m roughly the size of a small whale). But then the guy told me that since I’m pregnant, I have to pay for the test. If I wasn’t, it would be for free. To which I replied in the most polite way possible, “Are you kidding me?” Sorry, but I find it ridiculous to pay anything for a test that everyone else can take for free, and that I don’t even need. I don’t care to seek treatment anyways at this point since I feel better; it was mainly to appease The Family.
Basically, the whole thing was completely stupid. I can’t believe that something as simple as a UTI can’t be treated more easily and quickly than that. Everyone I dealt with was very nice and helpful, but their system sucks. Nothing is computerized, you carry your paperwork from doctor to doctor. Which judging by my experience, you may be going from doctor to doctor a lot more often than you would expect. I probably shouldn’t complain too much, since most of the services are for free, but they aren’t really. For the taxpayers here, they are very much paying for the services. I feel like I’m somewhat taking advantage of the system, but on the other hand, I’m also giving them another citizen, which with their current birthrate, is much needed. And I may be working here someday, so I don’t feel too bad about the whole situation. The system has some merit, but needs a serious overhaul. It could be so much more efficient and user friendly.
At least now I know what I’m up against. I won’t be returning to an Italian emergency room unless it’s absolutely urgent, because that’s the only way I’ll receive urgent services.
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Hungry in Hungary
Ciao!! We just got back from a quick trip to Budapest, so I’ll cut Italy some slack for the next couple postings, and talk about Hungary a bit. Budapest was a beautiful city; huge, with lots to see and do. We chose Budapest because Ryanair was offering flights there for 2 euros each way, so how can you really say no? I didn’t really know anything about Budapest prior to going, but there’s definitely more to it than thermal baths and gypsies. But I’ll talk more about the city in my next posting; I made a couple videos, so that may take me some time to edit and such. This one I will dedicate solely to the food of Budapest.
Apparently, Hungary is known for having good food. They use lots of paprika, and tend to have heavy food. Lots of potatoes, dumplings, goulash, etc. I thought that it would be similar to Prague, which it was in some ways, but to me, Prague seemed to be a lot more meat and cabbage, while Budapest was really into soup.
Anyways, our first meal in Budapest was actually Greek, because apparently on Sundays, nothing is open, and the restaurants that are open seem to be concentrated in certain areas, which we weren’t aware of. So we spent over an hour just trying to find a restaurant that wasn’t Indian or kebabs (my stomach was already a little weak from drinking Hungarian sink water the night before). The Greek restaurant was actually great though, we got a menu, which was two courses, as well as fresh lemonade for about $5 each. The prices were one of the best parts of Hungary, without a doubt.
So after a long day, we decided we should be able to find traditional Hungarian food. Once again, finding the food was not so easy.. Hungarians seem to have a different schedule for eating. They eat breakfast, no lunch, and then one large meal around 4 or 5. So looking for a restaurant around 9:30 wasn’t so easy. For every restaurant still open, there were at least 5 bars, so I guess Hungarians maybe just drink so much that they don’t have to eat. We finally found a place that looked reasonable, so we went for it. It was a lovely meal of goulash, paprika chicken, and crepes with chocolate sauce. There was gypsy music during the meal, so it was all around quite nice.
HOWEVER. It didn’t occur to me that the soup was probably made with the same water that I’d drank the night before, so I spent the next day with food poisoning. Not fun when walking everywhere, not to mention being way too pregnant in the first place.
The food highlight of the whole trip was definitely the second day. After I felt ok enough to try to eat again, we found a little restaurant that looked really cute, and offered inexpensive, delicious looking food. We tried to order one of each menus that they had, without actually knowing what we were ordering, as it was written in Hungarian. Our waiter misunderstood and brought us each the same meal, which turned out to be vegetable soup. I was hungry and stupid enough to eat it, not realizing the water situation would probably be the same. After the soup, he brought us each a plate of something which we couldn’t really identify. It looked like gnocchi, with a brown sauce. So basically, it looked like a plate of poop. I tried it, expecting something savory, but it turned out to be dessert. It took me a minute to even be sure that it was in fact sweet, not savory, and then 10 more minutes to get the taste out of my mouth. It was truly one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever eaten. Apparently, it is called “Makos guba” and is a famous Hungarian dessert, and is supposed to be a bread pudding with poppy seed paste. Everything about that sounds decent, but I assure you, what they served us was repulsive. The best way I can describe how it tasted would be to imagine gnocchi boiled in toilet water, then covered in a gritty soap sauce, and topped with powdered sugar. Awful. And we each had a full plate of the stuff. People around us were eating it like it was no problem.. Paolo is a huge advocate of eating everything on your plate, never wasting, and even he wouldn’t eat the stuff. I couldn’t even order anything else after that, it was too bad to think about food for a while. Turned out, the restaurant was named after this dessert; it was their specialty.
After that, we didn’t really go too adventurous with our meals. I will never order anything again without knowing what I’m getting. Even in Italy, it can be risky.. you may end up with horse pizza. So the lesson I hope to teach for today is: Be adventurous when it comes to trying food, but don’t go so far as to just be stupid.
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Life Lessons
When I was in 7th grade, my parents started realizing just how high maintenance I was going to be. I always wanted to have the best clothes and shoes; that doesn’t come cheaply. So rather than fighting it, my dad simply told me that I would get a fixed amount of money each month, and would have to learn how to use it to buy any extra things I needed (as in, anything other than food and shelter). It started as I think, $100 a month, which to a 12 year old, sounds like a fortune. However, once you start actually having to spend your own money, you realize quickly that it doesn’t go that far. It forced me to learn to budget, to choose carefully what I bought, and to be thrifty. I am now an excellent bargain hunter, and know the value of the dollar.
I got a job when I was 15 to supplement my allowance, and pay for gas, since at 16, I got a car. I always picked certain life events to save money for (usually trips), and usually managed to meet my goals, even if it meant doing extra chores to get there. At one point, my dad even made my brother and I listen to Dave Ramsey ( a financial expert for all you lucky people who don’t know). We were taught that saving was important, how to budget and prioritize, and hard work results in reward. I think that this was one of the most important things I learned growing up. Don’t get me wrong, my needs were provided for, but I was also aware of finances.
I’m incredibly thankful for this now, because my ability to budget and manage my finances has given me many opportunities. I worked up until college, then in the summers my first two years, and then constantly for the last two years. When I decided to study abroad, I knew I would be the one paying for most of it, so that’s when I started working and taking classes at the same time. I was incredibly fortunate to find a job that not only paid well, but I enjoyed doing, and as a bonus, I loved my co-workers. It’s rare to find that kind of job in college, but I can honestly say that those are some of the people that I miss the most. Anyways, because I was able to maintain a full scholarship, my parents generously paid for my basic expenses, so I was able to save most of my earnings. I never blew money on stupid things, paid my credit card bills every month; I thought that was normal. I didn’t realize that so many people spend far more than what they have; I never saw it as an option. Because of this I was able to spend a semester in Nice, and paid for two subsequent trips to Europe. I’m not working now, and it feels really strange, but I wouldn’t have the luxury to do this now if I hadn’t saved money along the way. So basically, thank you Mom and Dad for teaching me the value of hard work and how to be financially smart. This is one thing I think is really important and really overlooked today.
Here in Italy, most people my age have never had a job; their parents are expected to pay their expenses until they finish their education, which can be at whichever level they prefer. I don’t really feel like this can prepare people for real life; what are they going to do when Mommy and Daddy aren’t paying for everything?
I hope to pass the same lessons on to my son, to prepare him for the real world, and help him learn independence. Speaking of him, I got to see him yesterday via 4D ultrasound, which was really cool. The doctor told me he has my cheeks and nose, which when I look at the pictures, makes me feel like I must have a baby face, because I’m not seeing it. We’ll see! Sorry the picture is blurry, I had to take a picture of a picture because I don't have a scanner here. His tentative name is Alessandro James, what do you guys think?
Ciao for now,
Kathleen
Monday, September 3, 2012
Life as Betty Crocker
I would just like to alert the masses that I’m turning into a regular 1950s housewife. I now wash dishes by hand, hang clothes outside to dry, and cook on a daily basis. Or at least make a valiant effort to do all of these things. Next thing you know, I’ll be churning my own butter. The cooking is fine; I don’t mind cooking. However, cooking takes on a different meaning when you know everything you use is going to have to be washed, and by you, not this fancy new invention they call dishwashers.
I don’t really know why there aren’t as many dishwashers here. Paolo says that they’re in most houses, but they aren't always in apartments. But I would guess over half the population lives in apartments, so I guess dishwashers are just not a big deal to people here. They’re really big on saving energy here, so that may have something to do with it. Apparently, each house/apartment has a certain amount of energy that can be used at once, and if you exceed this amount, everything shuts off. I found this out the hard way my first week, after trying to iron and run the washing machine at the same time. I was left to sweat in the July heat until Paolo came in and flipped a tiny, stupid switch that was apparently the key to fixing all my troubles.
So this may also explain why they don’t have dryers. This one doesn’t really inconvenience me quite as much. It just means I have to be more strategic with laundry. As in, if I want to wash sheets, I better make sure I have backups, because they won’t be dry by night. It will be far more inconvenient when the baby comes, I’m sure, because we’re starting out with cloth diapering (I swear it’s not as disgusting as it sounds). Then I will probably really miss the convenience of the dryer. Now however, I mostly just miss the fresh out of the dryer feeling, especially now that it’s getting cooler. I actually woke up cold this morning; it went from summer to fall almost overnight here. But this year the cold is welcome to me! The only thing missing is some Auburn football.. it was really strange waking up Sunday morning and having to check the highlights and score of the game. There has to be a place where I can watch live stream of the games, if anyone knows, let me know please!
Now it’s time for more cleaning! We just got back from the beach, and then we’re heading to Budapest this weekend, so I really need to clean and get life organized this week in between vacations ( I know, life is tough).
Ciao for now!
Kathleen
I don’t really know why there aren’t as many dishwashers here. Paolo says that they’re in most houses, but they aren't always in apartments. But I would guess over half the population lives in apartments, so I guess dishwashers are just not a big deal to people here. They’re really big on saving energy here, so that may have something to do with it. Apparently, each house/apartment has a certain amount of energy that can be used at once, and if you exceed this amount, everything shuts off. I found this out the hard way my first week, after trying to iron and run the washing machine at the same time. I was left to sweat in the July heat until Paolo came in and flipped a tiny, stupid switch that was apparently the key to fixing all my troubles.
So this may also explain why they don’t have dryers. This one doesn’t really inconvenience me quite as much. It just means I have to be more strategic with laundry. As in, if I want to wash sheets, I better make sure I have backups, because they won’t be dry by night. It will be far more inconvenient when the baby comes, I’m sure, because we’re starting out with cloth diapering (I swear it’s not as disgusting as it sounds). Then I will probably really miss the convenience of the dryer. Now however, I mostly just miss the fresh out of the dryer feeling, especially now that it’s getting cooler. I actually woke up cold this morning; it went from summer to fall almost overnight here. But this year the cold is welcome to me! The only thing missing is some Auburn football.. it was really strange waking up Sunday morning and having to check the highlights and score of the game. There has to be a place where I can watch live stream of the games, if anyone knows, let me know please!
Now it’s time for more cleaning! We just got back from the beach, and then we’re heading to Budapest this weekend, so I really need to clean and get life organized this week in between vacations ( I know, life is tough).
Ciao for now!
Kathleen
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