That's how I feel when I go to Italy.
A bit confused in how I got there, and starting to realise this is not my place.
I guess I've been away for so long that I simply missed the way my fellow citizens look at life and everything that goes with it.
In August Italians are beautiful, skinny, tanned, driving expensive new cars, wearing expensive designer clothes and drowning in debt.
Since I'm none of that I can't help but feel intimidated by my own country.
I don't dislike it, I'm actually enjoying seeing my friends but I'm sure they look at me and they see an alien.
I've never looked specifically italian, but at least when I was a blonde fair skinned teen ager I wasn't the only one.
Anyway, I'm grateful to be here since the doctor I've seen yesterday finally gave me a diagnosis for my heart problem.
And I think in a couple of days I might even feel more at ease to be looked at by everyone when I walk down the street.
I seem to recall that that's the way it is here and that it didn't bother me as much years ago, now if I notice someone looking at me I just think that I might have something wrong, maybe the label of my t-shirt is sticking out! No, they're just looking, scrutinising my clothes because they're obviously not from around here and if they like them they most certainly want to know where I got them.
Man simply look at women for appreciation, women look at women for confrontation.
I wonder if this is the basis for my own form of voyeurism, photography, after all my favourite form of photography is portrait and whenever I go to Asia I come back with hundreds of photos of strangers caught in their daily routines.
Sometimes it's awkward though like this guy who invited me out for drinks yesterday at the bus stop, even though I mentioned Steve like a gazillion times ("Yeah I live in Australia with my husband Steve...". "My husband Steve has run the marathon last week end...", "We travel a lot Steve and I..."), he did not desist and asked me for my number, at that point I had to be plainly rude and told him I do not want to go out with him. How could he even think I was going to say yes, are there women in Italy giving out their numbers to strangers at the bus stop?
Maybe I'm exaggerating or maybe I just miss Steve and my kitties.
It's hot here, yesterday according to my dad it was 37 degrees. Of course after a couple of years in Australia this feels like a pleasant warm end of spring to me and I look puzzled at my complaining friends sweating and feeling exhausted from the heat.
When I went to the pharmacy to purchase the beta blockers I noticed that the at the check out instead of all the usual traps for impulse buy they normally display (like candies for kids f.e.), they put a complete range of products against dehydration and heat stroke and a woman was buying 300 euros worth of stuff with a painful look on her face.
I wonder if I took this woman and put her cold turkey into the australian 45 degrees 90% humidity summer what would she do?
Oh well, everyone likes to complain about the weather, as a matter of fact I think weather comes second after the government and before the boss at work.
I don't complain about the weather here, but I do complain about the bl**dy mozzies!
We don't have tiger mosquitoes anymore, but your average joe blogg mozzie will do just as much damage to my ankles, why didn't I bring the deet!!
A bit confused in how I got there, and starting to realise this is not my place.
I guess I've been away for so long that I simply missed the way my fellow citizens look at life and everything that goes with it.
In August Italians are beautiful, skinny, tanned, driving expensive new cars, wearing expensive designer clothes and drowning in debt.
Since I'm none of that I can't help but feel intimidated by my own country.
I don't dislike it, I'm actually enjoying seeing my friends but I'm sure they look at me and they see an alien.
I've never looked specifically italian, but at least when I was a blonde fair skinned teen ager I wasn't the only one.
Anyway, I'm grateful to be here since the doctor I've seen yesterday finally gave me a diagnosis for my heart problem.
And I think in a couple of days I might even feel more at ease to be looked at by everyone when I walk down the street.
I seem to recall that that's the way it is here and that it didn't bother me as much years ago, now if I notice someone looking at me I just think that I might have something wrong, maybe the label of my t-shirt is sticking out! No, they're just looking, scrutinising my clothes because they're obviously not from around here and if they like them they most certainly want to know where I got them.
Man simply look at women for appreciation, women look at women for confrontation.
I wonder if this is the basis for my own form of voyeurism, photography, after all my favourite form of photography is portrait and whenever I go to Asia I come back with hundreds of photos of strangers caught in their daily routines.
Sometimes it's awkward though like this guy who invited me out for drinks yesterday at the bus stop, even though I mentioned Steve like a gazillion times ("Yeah I live in Australia with my husband Steve...". "My husband Steve has run the marathon last week end...", "We travel a lot Steve and I..."), he did not desist and asked me for my number, at that point I had to be plainly rude and told him I do not want to go out with him. How could he even think I was going to say yes, are there women in Italy giving out their numbers to strangers at the bus stop?
Maybe I'm exaggerating or maybe I just miss Steve and my kitties.
It's hot here, yesterday according to my dad it was 37 degrees. Of course after a couple of years in Australia this feels like a pleasant warm end of spring to me and I look puzzled at my complaining friends sweating and feeling exhausted from the heat.
When I went to the pharmacy to purchase the beta blockers I noticed that the at the check out instead of all the usual traps for impulse buy they normally display (like candies for kids f.e.), they put a complete range of products against dehydration and heat stroke and a woman was buying 300 euros worth of stuff with a painful look on her face.
I wonder if I took this woman and put her cold turkey into the australian 45 degrees 90% humidity summer what would she do?
Oh well, everyone likes to complain about the weather, as a matter of fact I think weather comes second after the government and before the boss at work.
I don't complain about the weather here, but I do complain about the bl**dy mozzies!
We don't have tiger mosquitoes anymore, but your average joe blogg mozzie will do just as much damage to my ankles, why didn't I bring the deet!!
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