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Preparation Step

Yes, the date is that of Sunday, July 24. Tomorrow I leave. It is one o'clock in the morning on Sunday. I still have to sleep twice. I am a little 'tense, not so much for the flight, but for the thousand thoughts that crowd my head. I'm trying to figure out if the girl of the CTS in Rome or not I booked the flight on August 19 for NYC. The telephone conversation with this girl (there was more of a `To tell the truth) has been quite funny: It was a first encounter with Italy. So funny as the one with CTS in Bologna: I said: I try to fly from here to there at this time? And that: "Oh my god, as it is difficult, I can not mica, and if I reaches people, it takes a year, expected to try, but it's better to call the call center, which has a better terminal.

And I call it, the CC and the Roman romanissima girl answers me and say: Bologna said to me that you have a different terminal that works better and that makes me: eccerto, c'avemo maggica wand, which has the capacity christmas last christmas er, er c'aspettamo next ball maggica. Delicious, not There is that saying! Welcome back!

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few days ago I was in Tijuana, to renew my visa. It's official (at least from the bureaucratic point of view, the U.S. side): write the thesis here. I already have a teacher who supports me, I have an idea of possibile argomento (non di estremo interesse, in verità), e ho un posto dove vivere per i prossimi sei mesi. Non sono convinto che sia la scelta migliore per il mio futuro, ma l'alternativa e` Bologna dove certe cose sono meglio, e certe altre sono peggio (specie lato Università).



L'esperienza a Tijuana e` stata allucinante. Quando son tornato, ho scritto una lettera a Severgnini che però non l'ha pubblicata. È un racconto, stringato ma ugualmente un po' prosaico, della mia avventura. Lo incollo qui, così almeno qualcuno (io?) lo legge.




La lettera (più or less)


The other day I went to the appointment for a new visa, and since I'm here, I went to Tijuana, San Diego who is poor across the line. To change the border to Mexico, no problem: I am in Italy where they speak a little English, traffic and rude, signs are collapsing, roads have rivers of people, hungry for fried cakes with cinnamon.

The consulate is efficient, and being Italian I have to thank: all smiling at me and say, "Ah Italy, I-TA-LIA", with fine grainy syllables, the $ 10 taxi drivers always ask me for any question and when to have given him a 20, that made me a smile as wide as a house. Burnished hues, actually.

and pass the board for the U.S. stock making by all parties. Here is the promise: http://www.cbp.gov/xp/cgov/travel/customerservice/pledge_to_travelers/ . Professionalism, Courtesy, Respect. And that's what I got: 7 hours standing, heat or cold (9 pm, with the ocean breeze, freschino ago!). Around me the human river, mostly done by Mexicans waiting with a work permit to enter the U.S.. All, like myself, to get an I-94, a slip, the heart of Homeland Security.

The truth is that United States, boasting of being the largest democracy in the world, exploiting the Mexican labor: is the market, although immoral. The heartbreaking part is that to enter the market, they are beyond all human rights treaties, forced to wait in silence. You use, and so they are there, treat you like a dog. No place to sit, no food, surly and rude officers, most of which even delayed: problems to beat on the keyboard, to communicate, repeated questions dozens of times.

While listening to the radio the hardworking Mexicans would exchange information, phone numbers, talking to Americans looking for work low cost, trying desperately to survive. The couple in front of me, in his forties, the skin burned black by fatigue, black nails, simple clothes, a suitcase, the largest they could find, and only their hands to hold.

7 hours for a piece of paper, most important, to be delivered assolutissimamente when you leave the USA. So important that my previous is still there, in the passport. In the end, he is made, I thought it my duty to protest, but when I asked him "to file a claim" no one knew what to do, and they all stiffened. An agent - the bully of the situation - has decided to once again ask the passport. And I spent, I said "no, they just checked. The links on the side said: "It is true." Upon leaving I said to that agent: "And then nobody has seen my backpack, I could have a bomb." Did not like, but he said "wait for it."

In fact released one agent asked me to pass the pack on the tape. I asked her: "I have to empty your pockets? No, there was no need. Good news for suicide bombers. And God Bless the Homeland Security.

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What I've left behind


My teacher Conducting decided to accompany me. This is because not guaranteed that the visa on it without a hitch. There are stories of people stuck in Tijuana for weeks, and people forced to return to their country of origin without going through the street. So I had prepared a plan B, packed all my possessions, alerted friends and acquaintances on how to handle my belongings and return in Italy, selling the marketable, and so on.



So my prof. decided to accompany me and to act as spokesman of the United States and Mexico. The barrier between the two countries exist, look here: . Obviously I wanted to offer lunch, and so another 50 bucks. We shot a bit 'the city while we waited for the visas were printed, lunch, coffee, cakes.



Then when it was time to pass the board he did in an instant, having a U.S. passport. To me it needed the fucking I-94 and go seven hours straight! He told me to wait until 19.30, then returning home. When he called me from home, I had just passed the board and I got on the trolley. I was black and very black. Nerissimissimo.

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The letter

Here is the original of the letter that one of the second violins left to my teacher of conducting, I mentioned some time ago. What a great satisfaction!

Hello Harvey,

I thought the concert last night Turned out very well! I'll figure out
some way to mention a few things to Geoff for the future. It's really
interesting to see the difference between Geoff and Luca. They are both
very talented but Luca relies more on the emotion that the musicians
should have for the piece while Geoff assumes he has to pound it in to
us. :-) It was very nice to see the room packed with an audience.
Maybe next year it can be moved up to the green room behind Mandeville
or another location?

See you at rehearsal tonight.

Victoria

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Organ Concert

Stasera (lun, 11 luglio) sono andato solo soletto al concerto d'organo della stagione estiva di Balboa Park. B. Park e` il parco piu` grande di San Diego, cosi` grande che ci passano in mezzo due autostrade (Which by then the Americans are in the streets) and the fact that there `space, the Americans also decided to construct an exhibition hall with a giant organ. Each summer, from what I know, there's a concert series. And among the guests this year there is also `Simon Preston, one of the most famous living organisms. These concerts, however, have no religious character, which would in Italy, for several reasons.

First, because the court departed from us would be in church, not in the park. But since the concept of the church in America is more extended than here, maybe it's better to have it put here ...

Second, because `in the Church, if you really were hungry, at most it is celebrated with a host. But here? The Americans arrived at the house later covered (why is the concert is at 7.30pm, and then chilly) and especially food. So when you hear the organ and sometimes the sandwich you SBAFO your hearing focuses on the fine record that the organist has selected the song, and a second after the smell is concentrated on this smell of grilled meat served with all kinds sauces. Body sauce. Sauce, organ. Guacamole, organ. Clips of tortilla. And of course, a body!

Third, Why San Diego is very popular for various reasons, and one of them is that the airport is right in the heart of the city. And then I heard the organ and the concert chips, and the background in the sky I saw (and felt!) the aircraft landing procedure.

the end then, my body was a concerto for organ concert, fries, burritos and airplanes during landing. But everyone was happy about me, why not I should be me, then?

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New words

Today I went to cut my hair from Rocco's (little irony on this please ...) and I learned two new words:

• tapered : that basically means you want the feather in her hair ... type Can I Have Them tapered bottom-up?
  


• sideburns : sideburns that would be! Although a literal translation would be side burns ... mah ...