African Conservation Experience 2010

Imagine this: back to basics at its finest - I spent the first two weeks of my month in Africa in a tented bush camp with an outdoor bathroom composed of mud walls and no roof or door to speak of, and no hot water without building daily fires.  Temperatures dropped so dramatically at night that I often went to bed wearing two hoodies, thermals, tracksuit bottoms, socks, and even a woolly hat on one occasion!  There was no electricity, meaning that my evening meals were often shared with enormous moths and dung beetles.  It felt a bit like I was living in a commune, where everyone chipped in with the household duties and at mealtimes, and where creative improvisation was the norm, due to lack of basic resources that we take for granted in the UK.

The Hanchi Conservation Project involved 6am starts and me relearning everything concerning equine husbandry, tack and yard maintenance.  This primarily consisted of two hours of horse riding a day, and a hell of a lot of shit shovelling!  So my days were mostly filled with collecting horse manure from the stables and paddocks and making repeat trips to the shit heap, and then tipping the wheelbarrow, with much care needed to not tip it down the sides.  Not quite what I had in mind, though I did develop some biceps good enough to rival She-Ra any day!

Apart from the ubiquitous manure picking, I was fortunate enough to experience the advantage of having a roofless bathroom, and to catch sight of a beautiful sky full of stars every night.  I tracked cheetah and leopard, did some bushwacking with the aid of a machete (and almost whacked my own boot in the process, on one occasion!), and saw wild antelope.  I also went on an amazing helicopter ride, which was akin to a mini safari in the air.  I could not stop smiling to myself, it was such a thrill.  That aside, I also spent a great deal of time daydreaming in between, about buying a French bulldog and relocating to the coast to be by the sea.

My second placement at the animal rehabilitation project took a whopping eleven hours to reach by car, and involved an overnight stay at a hostel in Johannesberg to break up the long drive.  This part of my trip felt like more of an adventure as I had the opportunity to work with serval cats and a wild caracal, even taking them out for walks on leads every day; less enjoyable was getting dead chicks out of the freezer every day for their meals, especially being a vegetarian.

Responsibilities at the rehabilitation centre involved a few nights sleeping out with a warthog appropriately named Pumba, who turned out to be quite an escape artist and needed constant monitoring to curb his destructive tendencies.  My surreal nights with Pumba were spent with him wrapped in a sleeping bag next to me.  I also worked with a crow who needed to be let out of his cage every day for exercise - he made a habit of pecking at all my clothes and generally being annoying for exactly twenty minutes, and then would turn into sweetness personified after said minutes, allowing me to stroke his head and neck, and even falling asleep on my lap on a few occasions.

In Africa, natural resources are milked to their fullest, so no fruit flies in jars for the chameleon’s meals, oh no, I actually had to hunt for flies myself, and place the little reptile (the size of my index finger) in front of a fly on the wall, and wait for him to stick his tongue out and zap the flies one by one until his hunger was satiated.  Working so closely with this creature, I observed that George the chameleon had funny eyes that rotated round to the back of his head without him rotating his body.  I tried to imagine what it would be like if humans could do that.  Some food for thought.

Some funny moments (in hindsight) at the Centre involved the vervet monkey escaping out of his cage and being chased by Pumba, which I can only presume must have almost given the poor thing a heart attack, even with his good tree climbing skills.  Other escapees included one of the serval cats, who decided to stay stuck up a tree until dark.  I also had a giant tortoise pee all the way down my leg and even leave a trail a few metres long on the ground behind him, and me, for that matter.  You see, I meant it when I said this tortoise was big.  Riley the bushbaby, at only 1kg in weight and a mass of grey fur was quite possibly the ugliest animal I have ever seen, but that also made him the cutest.  He looked like a cross between a chinchilla and a gremlin, with monkey hands and feet and moved like a sloth, which was not very much due to his back injury.  Another comical moment was having six son conures (birds) all flock at me at once, with a few quite literally stuck on my head/hair.  I had to jump up and down to tear them away.

A question I have frequently been asked since I got back, is if I would do it all again.  And the answer to that is that while it was an unforgettable and really quite unique experience, I don’t think doing it again would be the same.  And so my search begins once again for my next adventure.  Wherever next will life take me?!  I quite like the idea of working with orangutans in the Malaysian Borneo.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Icelandic adventure 2009

Iceland Undiscovered conjured up images of the infamous Blue lagoon, the Northern Lights, and snow tipped mountains in Winter, but what I actually saw and experienced when I spent five days in the country was a lot more than I bargained for.  With the added bonus of discovering a very cool, relatively unknown Icelandic band called FM Belfast who sing a hilarious song titled ‘Underwear’ - a definite “must listen to”!  We also sampled their local coffee at a cluster of very sophisticated retro style coffee shops in Reykjavik, that turned into trendy bars by night.  

Lisa and I had a lot to pack in those five days, especially given that in Iceland the sun only emerges at around midday in Winter, and the sky is dark by 4pm.  Our first mini adventure involved renting quad bikes.  I got so carried away with speeding that my bike almost tipped over, but the thrill of the speed was priceless, minus the heart attack that was almost incurred when I felt I was going to top the side of the mountain.  On day two, we went pony trekking; Lisa managed to fall off her pony, even though it was possibly the dopiest one of the group and aptly named Marley, which was part of the problem.  He was walking so slowly and distractedly that he managed to trip up, which sent Lisa to the ground, rather gracefully I might add. 

Beauty spots were witnessed just beyond the city, where we visited the Gullfoss waterfall and saw the mesmerising Geysir, where the water would bubble at surface level, then every few minutes it would erupt to form a massive volcano of water hundreds of metres high.  This was followed by an evening in the Blue Lagoon where the water temperature was thirty eight degrees.  There were not many visitors when we went and it was a somewhat surreal experience - even though the lagoon was lit from up above, you would swim out and as the light faded, it felt like you were swimming into infinity.

I always had this preconception that Huskies originated from Iceland, but they are in fact imported from Greenland; our dogs were lovely and affectionate, and apparently nothing like the ones found in Greenland!  Due to the sub zero temperatures, Lisa and I were given what can only be described as thermal boiler suits and gloves for the dog sledding.  Lisa was unfortunate enough to get the extra large size which was far too big for her small frame, and the wind almost blew her away in what effectively turned into an inflatable Michelin man suit.  In fact, we almost both got blown away, and practically ate all the black volcanic sand in the process. 

The local bus trips from the city back to the hotel were something of a five star affair, not because we were staying in some luxurious abode and had the privilege of a private mini bus, but try to imagine this - a red London bus dropping you off not at the bus stop, but actually right on your doorstep!  That would never happen back home, but it actually did in Iceland.  Admittedly we were the only two people on the bus, but still, bus drivers in London would never be that nice.  It was definitely a moment to remember.  There were many…

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

A taste of magical Morocco 2008

Morocco, land of abundant corn - that was the solitary image I had of the country after reading my grandmother’s book detailing her experiences of living in North Africa in the 1950s.  Though I hasten to add that throughout my time there and after clocking up many miles on the road, I never did spot any corn husks.  Instead the country greeted my mother, brother and I with its market charms at Jamaa el Fna, in Marrakesh, where tourists flocked to see the snake charmers, fortune-tellers, musicians and tooth pullers with variously sized human teeth lined up on tables.  Further inside the medina were souks selling ‘babouches’ (pointy slippers), kaftans, rugs and leather goods in between the apothecary stalls, leaving a trail of pungent aromas behind them.

I cannot write about Marrakesh without mentioning the Riad Mehdi, our base for the few days we were in the city.  The hotel was dimly lit with candles and narrow, winding corridors throughout, which gave it the air of an upper class bordello, and provided an intimate setting that felt slightly surreal.  Add to that the lack of natural ventilation, and the fact that the spa, located in the central courtyard was communal and you could see all the clients having massages from your hotel room, and it made for a trippy experience that gave it all the more charm.  

Just outside the walled medina of Marrakesh lies the beautiful Jardin Majorelle, originally opened to the public in 1947 by the painter Jacques Majorelle, and later acquired and restored by the couturier Yves Saint Laurent.  It boasted an abundance of plants spanning five continents, and included orange groves, cacti, bamboo, palms, water lilies, lotus and papyrus, to name just a few.  In search of more culture, we stepped further outside of the city and spent the day taking in the Roman ruins of Volubilis, perched up high between the valleys and mountains.  The ruins included the house of Orpheus, which contained a very sophisticated network of plumbing and heating systems, the vomitoriums (bulimia abounded in Roman times!), some beautifully well preserved mosaics, and a Roman olive factory.  The Forum was the centre of life in Volubilis, with the arches of the Basilica and the columned Capitol still standing. 

After a day of intensive sightseeing and culture, I decided to go for the Hamman, which though incredibly weird was also quite relaxing.  It involved me lying on my back in a heated room, in the nude, with a lady pouring buckets of hot water over my body (the best bit), followed by exfoliation, massage and more buckets, with water going up my nostrils on more than a few occasions.

A few days were spent in the Riad Fes Hotel, located in the heart of Fes, which dated from the 1930s and was the former residence of the noble Fassi family.  From here we explored the ceramic tile factory, where we witnessed men carving art forms on plates and making mosaics.  We also visited the tannery, where all the leather was dyed, and walked through holding a bunch of mint leaves we were given to ward off the pungent smells.

Our next port of call involved a long day of driving as we passed Erfoud, near the Algerian border, Merzonga, and through the Atlas mountains until we reached the Ksar Jallal, located in a village right on the edge of the Fezna oasis with views across the desert to the mountains.  There were only six rooms in the hotel, so it felt more like a private residence, and was high on tackiness rankings, but it nonetheless had its charms, and the real beauty was its location.  Less pleasant, but somewhat surreal to see, was a sandstorm we encountered on the drive to the hotel!  We also experienced extremes of temperature from 7 degrees in the morning, right up to 27 degrees in the desert later on in the day.  Unfortunately, I was left to capture the beautifully shaped mountains in my memory as my camera just didn’t do them justice.  There are places I find can be like that – no photograph you take can truly capture the beauty of nature, even with the aid of Photoshop (which I don’t particularly like anyway)!

Overall it was a truly magical experience, especially being in the desert, rising at sunrise and walking along the sand dunes with camels by our sides.  And  here is a bit of useless information to end this with, as I am full of these – apparently Moroccan camels have two humps instead of the more common one hump.  In more eloquent terms, a camel with one hump is called a Dromedary Camel,  and one with two humps is a Bactrian Camel, which is native to the Gobi Desert in Mongolia, whereas the former is more common in the Middle East.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Doing the locomotion in Sri Lanka 2007

A year on, the travel bug resurfaced and took me to my next travel destination, which I chose to be Sri Lanka, where I joined a tour group for two weeks.  I got off on a bad start, as almost as per usual, I set off the x-ray machine with my studded belt at the airport, then in my half-asleep state managed to get off the plane at the Maldives (Sri Lanka was the second stop, but I'd missed the announcement on the plane as I had been asleep).  I ended up asking a few people which country I was in as the sign bearing the name of the airport was really rather meaningless to me in their native language.  Good thing I had my intuition to go by and got back on the plane, or I would not have made it to Sri Lanka!

I must admit I felt like a non-stop locomotive on the trip, except on the last few days where we chilled on the beach, but am so glad we packed in all the beautiful sights.  Having said that, all those 6am starts left me feeling like I needed to hibernate for a week in bed when I got back home!  But I mastered the art of getting ready in a record breaking fifteen minutes, so all was not lost.

I was shocked to see so many military soldiers dotted about in one country (Tamils), I had never seen such was a bizarre sight, and it was so unexpected, but fortunately, their presence felt safe and unthreatening while we toured Sri Lanka.  Equally bizarre and worth a mention was the high security at the temples.  I got searched 4 times (here comes the bizarre shock factor), and had my breasts groped, and I mean REALLY groped by a big, butch looking female guard.  Others in the tour group had similar experiences, so we came to the conclusion that she was an undersexed and overly horny lesbian, and laughed about it later.

I saw so many beautiful sights in the two weeks I was there, that it would be impossible to write about it all, so I have mentioned some of my highlights instead: Anuradhapura, an absolute must-see, with its beautiful reclining Buddha, surrounded by cheeky monkeys everywhere.  The Dambulla Caves were home to five rock temples containing innumerable statues of the Buddha and other deities, as well as some murals that really blew me away.  Aukana, another highlight, was the site of a twelve metre high reclining Buddha.  In Sigiriya I climbed the Victorian metal spiral staircases that lead to the Sigiriya Damsels, with frescoes in beautiful earthy colours showing around twenty bare-breasted nymphs floating on a sea of clouds, all very sensual art.  I was also quite fascinated by the wood carving factory, simply because you saw how natural colour dyes were created through chemical reactions, which was an eye opener.  The elephant safari, just to experience an open topped safari, was also worth the experience, with wind blowing in my face and hair as I rode standing!

Did you know that white pepper is made by pouring boiling water over black peppercorns?  That was news to me.  I learnt it on an ayurvedic tour of a spice garden.  Pepper trees are actually green, and the black pepper we get comes from them being dry roasted in the sun. I never really thought about the origins of their colour until I went there.

Adam's Peak, apparently one of Sri Lanka's most revered pilgrimage sites, involves climbing up 9600 steps to the summit, which amounts to five hours of walking.  I couldn't drink in all that time as there were no pit stops.  I compulsively chewed gum instead, as an alternative illusory thirst quencher, like a cow munches grass all day long.  By the time I reached the top, I felt like I'd dislocated my jaw from all that chewing.  It was the longest and hardest trek I've ever done, and I'm supposedly pretty fit; those steps felt never ending, but despite severely sunburnt shoulders and an incredibly numb pair of legs, I'm glad I reached the top of the summit, and it made me really appreciate our final destination, the beach.

Unawatuna, our final stop, and site of a beautiful beach.  I've never been very tolerant of the heat and get bored sunbathing, but I love the ocean.  It was so, so peaceful and a brilliant way to end the trip.  I chilled in the sea a lot, and joined in the activities such as volleyball, badminton and football on the beach, with the younger crowd on the beach.  I also visited a turtle conservation farm for the first time in my life, and had the opportunity to hold a turtle smaller than the palm of my hand, and only a few days old, which was a memorable moment.  Overall, I had some lovely experiences on the group tour in Sri Lanka, and I'm glad I went, but I think I prefer independent travel best - I've just got to find my ideal travel partner with the same flexible work hours as me now!

That's all folks...more on my next travels.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Jungles and beaches in Malaysia 2006

As a newly independent woman in 2006, I decided I was way overdue to travel somewhere far away, and picked Malaysia on a group tour.  I enjoyed it so much, that had I not had any ties in London, I would've carried on travelling into the Malaysian Borneo, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, maybe even Thailand again.  The smiles, the laughter, the sun, the beautiful surroundings, the adventure itself, I missed them all when came back home, but I guess that's just how it is sometimes – too good to last!  So in the meantime, I buried myself in my new studies and took to dreaming of travelling.

I joined a tour group in Penang as I figured it would be easier, given my two week time limit, so that I could pack in as many places as possible.  The tour leader was great, she was a Scottish lady with a fantastic sense of humour, a youthful spirit and a big heart.  I was fortunate enough to be accompanied by three guys on the tour, who shared an equally good sense of humour and laid back attitude, and who also, very sweetly, wanted to look out for me all the time, even though I was perfectly capable of doing that for myself.  

Looking back, I think what made the trip so memorable were the moments I had that made me smile - little things like seeing an adorable black monkey, a gibbon, on one of the treks, which I had never seen before.  It was all black with white circles around its eyes and mouth, and painted a picture of perfect innocence. Then in Banding / Temengor Lake we went on a night trek and slept in hammocks in the jungle - bat and elephant shit in abundance, but no elephants in sight until the next day on a night drive, and crossing the road no less, not in the depths of the jungle.  At one point we all switched our flashlights off, and it was magical, there were fireflies everywhere, and fluorescent leaves by my feet (the fungus on the leaves makes them glow in the dark), stars in the sky, and the noises of the jungle, of animals I mostly couldn't identify, but the sounds produced no fear, only peace.  After the trekking, we went to the Perehentian Islands for a few days, and snorkelled in the clear blue waters off the east coast, spotting giant turtles and multicoloured fish.  I also, amusingly enough, came across a monitor lizard on my way to the hotel room one afternoon, from the beach.  I must say that stopped me in my tracks as I had never come across one before, and had not expected such a sight.  With a body bigger than a crocodile, and a wider face, it walked at the pace of a snail, and had a tendency to whack predators / people with it's heavy tail, so I made sure I stayed well away.

We took a 5 hour bus ride to Kuala Lipis after the beach stay, then went into the jungle again, visited the limestone caves, stumbled on more bats and shit, and slippery terrain; I was glad it was over by the end of a 12 hour day but I did enjoy the adrenaline rush that it created.  After that, we stopped for tea and cookies at a local villager's hut, hitched a ride on the back of a truck to the Jelai River, then got a boat across it, and this made me laugh so much, I wish I had taken a photo: there was a man on his boat, rowing on his own, wearing a motorbike helmet. What he was thinking, or what drugs he was on, I do not know.

Kuala Lumpur, unless you like cities stocked to the brim with designer fakes and DVDs - for which they have an interesting marketing ploy - they show you their file of DVDs, you say no thanks, they offer you porn instead - neither of which I really do - was nothing to shout about.  Except for the Batu Caves, which were a bus ride out of the city.  You had to climb two hundred steps, and inside its walls were some beautiful Hindu sculptures and hungry monkeys (not so beautiful, but cute nonetheless).

By the end of the trip I had mastered the art of squat toilets, which I hadn't experienced since India, and believe me, being a girl, it is one hell of an art.  Men always have it so easy.  I also mastered the art of seeing with one semi good left eye due to laser surgery gone not according to plan last year, and me having managed to break the two lenses I wear on my right eye only, in the space of 2 days, on the 2nd day of my trip.  In addition, I am now also very adept at trekking in the jungle with a handbag, and renamed it the handbag for all seasons and purposes. Before I went away, I was so looking forward to chilling out on the beach for a few days, and forgetting about pending exams, that I didn't think about the practicalities of packing my day rucksack for the jungle, along with a torch for night time walks, insect repellent, sunscreen, etc.  Anyway, in the end it worked out pretty well - you'd be amazed how much you can squash into a handbag for two days in the jungle - just pack extra light.

Mice, spiders, geckos, and other similar insects, I can deal with, but leeches and jelly fish, having never been bitten by either, produced a small amount of fear in me out in Malaysia.  Until I got leeched twice in the jungle, and it really wasn't that bad, so gone is my fear of leeches now.  On my next trip I will probably have a jelly fish stick itself to my body, and come back scarred, unless that is, I find someone to piss on me, which is apparently the remedy for getting rid of the poison, and to minimise scars.  It would have to be someone extraordinarily special, I can't think who right now, though in that situation, I probably wouldn't care. 


© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Feeling charitable in Costa Rica 2005

I arrived in Costa Rica automatically, and somewhat stupidly assuming it would be Summer as I was told the temperatures would average 26 degrees in August.  They did, but it was the rainy season, with almost daily tropical downpours.  The orphanage I had been posted to was tiny - there were only eleven children there, which was much less than I was used to when I had worked in Mexico, but more than enough after a few days there as they were pretty wayward.  There were two sets of twins there, aged one month and eight months, both so adorable.  The older two, Carolina and Geovana were the smiliest babies I have ever set eyes on, and had my life been considerably more stable, physically and financially, I probably would've considered adopting them.  They were so, so lovely, so easy going, and truly a joy to be around.  I couldn't believe they had been placed in an orphanage with a disposition like theirs.  My favourites were Simon and Dycklin, who were aged three and four, and had Down's Syndrome. Neither of them had learnt how to talk yet, but they were pretty good at letting you know how they felt about things, through their facial expressions, grunts and screaming, and various temper tantrums - they were real characters. Most of the other children were a bit harder to communicate with as they were often aggressive, violent and hard to deal with, though eventually, even they softened up, and learnt to trust me.  It was such an amazing feeling seeing some of them smile, sit on my lap and hold my hand.  It was really heart-warming. 

The first few days working  at the orphanage were tough as the children had very little structure or routine to their day, which was probably part of the reason why they were so difficult to handle.  They also had very little outside stimuli, and there is only so much entertaining two volunteers can do without any toys or games, so we were really challenged and pushed to think outside of the box.  I didn't think I would be able to handle a month of that and I lacked the professional knowledge or experience to know how to deal with these wayward children...so I complemented the orphanage work with a few days working as a school assistant.  The teacher I worked with was lovely, and made me feel at ease there. The children would kiss me good morning when I arrived and good bye every afternoon they saw me in school, and wrote me the sweetest notes when I left, with pictures and even flowers picked from the playground.  I was so touched by their affectionate notes saying how they said they were going to miss me and loved me! Even the teacher wrote me a beautiful little note.

As for my living situation, I lived in a house with all the volunteers (doing voluntary work in a variety of fields) in San Carlos, about 30 of us in total, with an average of 3 girls sharing a room, and a communal bathroom.  It actually reminded me of being at summer camp again!  Everyone was friendly (mostly American), considerate and thoughtful, so I felt more relaxed than I would have done otherwise, and more a part of a group or community...Living there was like being back in Greece, where I had been on a spiritual retreat some years previously (minus the spirituality, but with the community atmosphere) - there was no TV in the house and no music – just childrens' books lying around the place, and plenty of time to be creative and live simply as the "city" did not have much on offer.

On my last day at the orphanage I remember going back to my roots and cooking the children a Spanish omelette, which was a big change from their monotonous diet of mostly rice and beans; maybe an unbalanced diet was a contributing factor to their hyperactivity.  When the time came to leave the children and return back to the UK, I felt sad - the twins were crying because they just wanted to be held and cuddled, and Karina, who my friend and I christened the "devil's child" as she was actually quite evil, held my hand and didn't want me to leave, while Jose Fabio, another dark horse, or pony in the case of little people, gave me a good bye kiss.  Jenna, my work buddy, also wrote me a beautiful farewell letter. Often for me, it's the simple gestures that touch me, and yes, I did leave with tears streaming down my face, but at least the children didn't see them.

Okay, I know not everyone may not be appreciating all this sentimentality, so here's a low-down on the travelling that I squeezed in when I was off work. Eighteen of us descended on Manuel Antonio the first weekend we had off, a renowned world heritage site.  The first night, I must say, was a bit weird - there were four of us sharing a room and two double beds, so I had to share half a bed with a virtual stranger, but by the second night I'd gotten used to it.  It was beautiful  there, we saw birds of paradise everywhere, iguanas, cicadas, butterflies, bats, wild monkeys on the beach, and even a sloth in a tree.  And this sloth was so fat you could tell he didn't get around much.  I don't know how they get their food; they must have extra long tongues for catching flies, so they don't have to move.  Or maybe they're vegetarian.  In which case, what happens when they deplete a branch of leaves??  These creatures are the laziest living things on earth, so I do wonder.

Before I went to Monteverde I was told it would be a bumpy ride, and to be prepared.  I was pleasantly surprised until the last hour of the trip, which was a drive along a very bumpy, winding, pot holed road in the mountains.  It brought back memories of coach trips in Thailand, only the particular journey it brought to my mind was nine hours long instead of four, over similar terrain.  We went zip lining, which involves hanging off cables (nineteen in total, with one over five hundred metres long) in the rainforest.  That was very comical as I got stuck on the cable because I was going too slowly, and a guide had to come and take me through.  It meant I got to go really fast without stopping, so it was a blessing in disguise, as I like speed.  I also did the obligatory canopy tour, but that felt insignificant after the exhilaration of the zip lining.  Horse riding followed, and I was surprised how well looked after and well behaved the animals were; got to canter and gallop through the forest, and stopped off at an animal refuge on the way.  I had friendly monkeys who shared their living quarters with domesticated sheep jumping on my shoulder and trying to eat my hair!  When it all got too much and I felt like I was on my way to a losing my scalp, all I had to do was start walking, and they immediately jumped off – clever monkeys!

The last travel stop was Tortuguero, which was like an African safari, except it was on water.  We saw more monkeys, herons, giant turtles, caimans, toucans, falcons, kingfishers and giant lizards.  Our hotel also had cute little red frogs running about the place, which I later found out were poisonous, so I am glad I didn’t accidentally step on any.

On a final note, I will end on this - Pura Vida!  These are the most commonly used words in the Ticos' (the Costa Ricans) vocabulary.  It literally translates as Pure Life!, but in Costa Rica it can mean many things, such as that's cool, it's cool, you're cool, hi, good bye, and even, just to personalize it - until next time, from another country far away – Pura Vida!

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

I planted my intellect in Rome, Italy 2005

Back on the journey of self-discovery; the travel bug refused to die...I chose to spend a Summer in Italy with the maybe blindly optimistic idea that I would return home fluent in Italian, and able to pursue a successful career in medical interpreting, with five languages under my belt (the others being Spanish, English, Portuguese, and French).

As my bad luck would have it, I remember telling my Mum before I left, that I hoped I wouldn't be sharing the flat with a Japanese, and what a surprise to arrive and find out my flatmate was a 44 year old Japanese woman who spoke no Italian or English - needless to say, communication was a real problem, and I felt pretty much on my own most of the time.  In addition, the flat was particularly sparse - no phone, no TV, no washing machine, not much light...so the first thing I did was complain to the language school I was enrolled at.  My immediate options were pretty unappealing, but I did eventually move, after two weeks.  I ended up living with an Italian single mother and her nerdy, somewhat freaky looking twenty something year old son.  Not quite what I was expecting, but better than the other place, and the lady I was sharing with was really warm, without being too overbearing.

It's amazing how, when I am thrown into a country where I hardly speak the language, know a single soul, or the city itself, my shyness disappears and I become assertiveness personified.  The first day I arrived I didn't know that not getting your metro ticket stamped would incur, per person, a EUR 50 fine.  I kicked up such a fuss in my broken Italian (interspersed with Spanish and Portuguese) that we got away with paying 50 between the two of us (I was with the Japanese woman).  The Italians were so helpful when I asked for directions - one woman didn't know the directions to where I needed to go, so she went into a shop to ask for me, then another man saw I was having difficulty getting the pay phone to work, and came over to help me.  I even had other people walk with me to my destination, even though they were going the other way.  And the most flattering thing that happened to me there: I went to a museum and was asked if I was under 18, and another time an elderly man asked me if I was Italian!  Now that I think about it, it is the ONLY flattering things that happened to me in Italy, hahaha.

My classes were in the afternoon, with classes limited to about 6 people, which was nice; the teachers were really enthusiastic and laid-back – it was a far cry from university classes and school.  The one thing I was not too keen about was that you changed teachers every 2 weeks.  I made some progress with the language, which was great, but was still thinking in Spanish and Portuguese throughout, which contrary to popular belief, knowledge of other Latin languages did not help, but rather served as a hindrance.  That said, I did have to sit an exam during the course, and moved up a level – so not all doom and gloom!

The school ran a cultural program, and I signed up for most things, wanting to make the most of the city.  During my time in Rome I visited the Colosseum, the Pantheon, Piazza Spagna, Villa Borghese, Tivoli (outside Rome - a park with 2000 fountains), Palazzo Corsini, the Museo d'Arte Moderno, the chaotic Porta Portese market, the Lago di Bracciano, Appia Antica...and more - some with the school, others on my own. I really felt like I made the most of my stay in Italy.  I fell into a routine with relative ease, and once a week, sometimes more, usually on weekends, when my days were less structured, I would lose myself in the cinema (movies in Italian of course, though not necessarily Italian movies).  I truly loved the vibe in the city, its beauty, the people, the language, the culture; I felt so comfortable there despite missing my friends and family back home.  Some countries are like that, they feel like home, I can’t really explain it, but if you’ve ever felt it, you’ll know exactly what I mean.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre