Musings on Life, Work, and Love
Yes, that is a blue curaçao daiquiri.
I chose Curaçao because I was freezing in Prague and wanted someplace warm. Boy, did it deliver. For good measure it threw in magnificent cactus formations and one very painful scorpion sting. And it drained me with the oppressive humidity.
Despite, that, here are the highlights:
Gratuitous rainforest mammal. (Good name for a band)
My mission in Rio was simple: escape winter. The plan was formed after enduring the piercing, freezing wind of Nurnberg in October. As the chill followed me to Berlin and Prag, I booked the first leg of my mileage run as a summer week on Copacabana beach. I was also looking forward to:
Sunny Beaches
I had visions of myself becoming lean and bronzed, erasing my ghostly beer belly. (Though I would probably clear out the beach for the first afternoon.) Between relaxing walks in the sand, I would visit the majestic Cristo Redentor sculpture Pao de Azucar hill. From these iconic vantage points, I would take gorgeous photos of the translucent turquoise ocean and the green offshore islands dramatically lit with soft morning light or striking ruby sunsets.
It’s Copacabana beach, after all.
And then the clouds engulfed everything.
“Rome, if you want to…”
What makes a guy decide to travel the world for a year to learn three languages? Doesn’t everyone know that you can’t learn even a single language in a year?! Three is impossible! And you’ll be completely alone because you can’t make friends until you’re fluent. And your career! You’ll get passed over for promotions and probably never recover all that earning potential. It’s madness, I tell you! Madness!
Maybe all of my friends thought that way. At least they were kind enough to substitute something ambiguous like “it will be the trip of a lifetime” (which could be good or bad). When they said I had to do it while I could, I don’t know if they meant it was actually a good idea, or just something they knew I had to get out of my system.
Today I’m going to give credit (or blame) to some writers on the interwebs who inspired and educated me for this trip:
How weird is it that I’ve never met any of them? Or maybe it’s weird that I actually emailed with a couple of them. (I even wrote a guest post for one of them a long time ago.)
Practicing my Italian with an audience
What’s the best way to learn another language? The answer must be move to a country that speaks it. (Otherwise this trip was a very bad idea.) Then you just soak up the sounds through osmosis while sipping Mai Tais or Mojitos or Belline. (I’m claiming that as the plural of Bellini.)
Not a bellini, but still delicious…
Except our brains are lazy. They are very good at resisting any new skills that aren’t absolutely necessary. And it’s certainly possible to get by in most foreign countries using English and hand gestures.
So if I’m going to become fluent in three months I’m going to need a plan and discipline. (Though I really wish I could learn by drinking those Belline. I hate discipline.) But it’s not going to be classes or Rosetta Stone software or even a top-secret computer program to beam the language directly into my brain, code-named The Intersect. (Very tempting, though. Especially if I get to work with Sarah Walker.)
No, I’m going to hack my way into the language. And if you want to play along at home, you can do this too.
Summary
Basilica Santa Croce (Holy Cross)
It only took a week for me to find my places in Florence.
In California I had my winery, my dance hall, and my pizza shop. Now I’m in Florence and I have my piazza (square), my cafe, and my pizza shop. Yes, good pizza is something I take great delight in.
I picked an apartment near the Piazza Santa Croce, whose basilica was begun in 1294 and finished in 1442. It’s huge and gorgeous, built with green, white, and pink marble. There’s a great big square in front of it, which is nice to hang out in when it’s sunny. I like to sit on a bench and study Italian grammar out in the fresh air. As an extrovert, the tourists milling around turn out to be very energizing.