Daniel Ferrante

t_b

There's a balance I like to strike in my blog. I want to be honest and forthright in my writings, but I want to protect the identity, privacy and self-respect of those I write about.

One recent example where conflict can arise is in an entry I wrote about my trip to Paris. In the original version, I wrote about my friend's brother and how he insulted me. I called him some derogatory names, etc. I didn't think anything of it. Then my friend came to visit Sunshine and me in Dijon. She talked to me about how she felt hurt by what I said about her brother. Part of me wanted to tell her that I meant what I said, that this is my blog and I say what's on my mind. Another part of me wanted to retract the entire entry, rewrite it with a kinder and gentler ending and drink rainbows and ride unicorns…

I took a small walk that evening. I went by a local internet cafe (this was before I had limited internet access here at my dorm) and rewrote the posts in questions (here and here).

In one, I deleted the offending part of the entry. In the other, I removed the harsh language - but still kept the spirit of how I felt, and then added a little about how nice of host my friend was. Then I went and bought her a rose as a peace offering.

What can I say? I'm a softie…

However, life isn't easy, nor is it always nice. I'm not some war worn veteran that's seen people killed in battle. Nor am I the survivor of years of abuse. I haven't been around the block, but from what I have seen I know at times we find ourselves in places we don't want to be, associating with people that not just offend us, but actively set out to hurt us. They may be young, they may be socially inexperienced, they may be naive… but what they do or say still affects those around them, and I am not above calling them out on it.

Before I continue, this is NOT directed at my friend in Paris - this is me explaining how I feel to that small portion of the world that reads my blog. Because what comes next goes beyond the general spirit of my blog.

My intention for this blog is first and foremost to allow my friends around the world to know what's going on in my life as I travel the globe spreading the gospel of English. I admit that I complain a lot in my blog (as I do in real life - can I get an "amen"?) - but complaining lends itself to humor much more easily than compliments. Which is the second point of this blog - to entertain (if you want to see this done well, visit Outpost Nine). My third point is to occassionally be blunt, honest and open, in a way that I am normally not… which leads me to the more honest and uncensored version of my holidays.

Nearly Adulterous in Munich

Steph, dear sweet Steph. What the hell were you thinking? I love you sweetheart, but c'mon…

My friend Steph - I met her while on vacation in the Southwest US. We had a small hook-up (if kissing in Yosemite counts as a hook-up) on the last day of the trip. I found out at the same time that she had someone backhome in Munich. However the guy is a complete a*hole and their relationship is on its last legs… so no harm done… we didn't sleep together and it's not as if this is her husband…

Oh guess what little surprise she had up her sleeve? Yes, her "someone back home in Munich" was in fact her husband, NOT her boyfriend. And when does she tell me this? Not then and there in Yosemite. Nope. Not the next few days when she wanted me to come up to San Francisco to spend the night (I didn't, thank God). Not via email when we're trying to make plans to meet. Not when I email her to tell her about my (incredibly awesome and oh so gorgeous) girlfriend here in Dijon. Not even when we begin to make plans to meet in Munich for Christmas (why I wasn't in Austria with my beau is a whole other story of shoulda, woulda, coulda). No, she tells me this after she picks me up at the train station. And then, not at the station where I could have turned around, hopped on the train to Graz and been in Austria tout de suit. No, she tells me half way to her parents' house. Going down the highway at 120 KM/H is NOT the time to open the door and leap out of the car.

So, I show up for Christmas at her parent's house. And what did they think? Sure, she's leaving her husband (or at least trying to) and her parents know this. But to see their daughter come home for the holidays with someone who isn't her husband - hell, he's not even German. She met him (me) on a trip abroad…

It was awkward for me and I am sure it was odd for them.

The first night, she and I went to a bar. She got a little drunk, I had hot chocolate. She tried to talk me out of dating my Eskimo (yes, that's my nickname for my girlfriend, she calls me her honeybear, cause I'm sweet like honey and, well, hairy like a bear). She told me that she was probably back in Austria cheating on me like women usually do when they are away from their boyfriends…

[sigh]

I'd have made a stand… but you choose your battles… and usually ones partner's honour is a good battle to choose. But she was drunk and I knew she'd not remember a single word of what I'd have said to her.

I spent the entire holiday in Munich counting down the minutes until I was back on the train to Dijon - just to get the hell out of there and away from her. And that is no way to spend a holiday.

Yes, Steph paid for almost everything (except my train ticket). She covered my meals, my hotel, etc. She was generous… but I feel she was just compensating for the lie… but there is no compensating for it on this level. Not that huge of a lie. I was pissed, and really this is just borderline adulterous behaviour.

I hope you get the hell out of this marriage - for your sake and your husband's.

Czech-mate! (Yeah, it's an old joke… deal with it)

"Daniel, how was your trip to Prague?"

"It sucked!"

Before I go one word further… avoid using NEW EAST travel and Voyages Wasteels.

14 hour bus rides to Prague suck. Add to that the inability to SLEEP on the bus, inaccurate directions from your reps on where to meet (would it kill you to have put the address ON THE ITINERARY?), and then being yelled at for not being at the right place to meet the Prague bound bus (hey, you told me the wrong place, a*holes). Even more, there were 10 monkeys on the bus. These idiots felt they could talk all through the night, blast their music players (via headphones or through speakers) the whole trip and keep their lights on w/out reprecussion. And wow, turns out, they were right. We'd ask them to shut the Holy Hell up, but they just ignored us. We spoke to the program cooridinators, they refused to do anything about it. So 14 hours of hell all the way to Prague.

We arrived around noon. We checked into the worst hostel I have ever been in. The bathrooms had no doors. The showers had small wooden doors with cloth that neither closed all the way nor locked. The showerheads were loosely attached to the wall and occasionally they gave hot water. All the windows in the hostel were open, which I couldn't figure out why - until I realized that everyone was smoking. Dammit!

It was snowing in Prague. The streets were covered with sludge, a nice mix of ice, snow, dirt and trash. Yum. It was tracked all over the floors of the hostel.

And I got sick. Since apparently everyone in Prague smokes, including the unborn, the dead and the undead - I inhaled about 18,000 metric tons of second hand smoke… I had a bad sinus infection on the second day and I am still battling it.

New Year's was great. Three of our room mates got drunk. One spent the night vomiting, another passed out in front of the door ('That wasn't such a bad deal', said Sunshine… that's because you didn't have to drag his butt from the doorway all night - how he kept moving back there is beyond me). The last guy showed up at 7:00 in the morning, a huge cut on his swollen left cheek. He was missing his wallet, passport and all other identification. The last thing he remembered was going to a German bar and drinking some green fairy.

The monkeys from the bus were in the room next to us. They put a hole in their door and kept trying to come in our room whenever they got drunk.

People actually can't understand why I quit drinking… 

The ride home from Prague was the the same as the ride out, except I was sick. That made it that much more enjoyable.

The irony of it all is that I really didn't want to go to Munich OR Prague. I set these plans to motion about 6 weeks ago - and, instead of backing out, I tucked my tail and made plans to do things I knew I would hate. I could have done Prague for cheaper on my own (as opposed to using Voyages Weasels). But, for all the money I spent, I could have had a nice week in Sicily, or had snowboard lessons in Switzerland…

Like I said, all my fault for going against my will. From now on, I'm doing things I enjoy - unless someone is paying for the entire trip.

Travel Tips

Apparently many people out there have NO idea how to travel with consideration for those around you. So here is a short list of how you can travel and not piss off me everyone around you:

1. Do not bring your screaming child on a plane, bus or train. There's a reason your child is screaming, it doesn't want to be there. There's a reason people around you are giving you dirty looks, they don't want your child to be there, either. If you're child is too young to travel quietly, get a sitter or stay home.

2. Do not bring your pet on a plane, bus or train. Here in Dijon, there are signs on the buses that have the "not allowed" circle with a slash over a dog, but next to it, in green, is a drawing of a dog in a purse. Translation: No dogs allowed on the bus, unless it's in your purse. (I promise you I will have a picture of this one day… it isn't easy to pull off). Listen, unless your are impaired and need a dog to help you around, DO NOT bring your pets with you on vacation or around town (I suppose there are pet friendly vacations, in that case, go for it). But I don't want your dog pissing on me, barking in my ear, fidgeting, whining, etc. I paid good money for a quiet trip so I can sleep. I did not pay this money to listen to your dog whimper in wonderment as to why someone who supposedly loves it decided to bring it on a trip and cram into a compact space for ten hours at a time.

3. Shut the hell up and turn down your music player. I don't want to hear your conversation, I don't want to hear your music. Talk quietly, keep the volume on your music player low and we'll all be happy. And if someone asks you to keep the noise low, comply. Don't be a pain in the butt about it. Respect the people around you. And if you don't and I accidentally shove my foot so far up your @ss that you can taste shoe leather, don't act surprised.

4. Stop smoking. Really, seriously, what the hell are you thinking? What are the down sides to smoking:

- You smell like an ash tray.
- You're killing yourself.
- You're ruining your health.
- Your teeth turn yellow (as do your finger tips).
- It can lead to impotence.
- Second hand smoke will piss off everyone arond you.
- And hey! You're paying for the pleasure.

What are the benefits of smoking? Someone? Anyone?

Yeah, so all you geniuses out there, make yourself a slave to tobacco corporations and kill yourself. See if I care, just f'n do it where I don't have to see, smell or inhale your flammable suicide.

Interesting note: In France, cigarette packs say "Smoking kills" in French in HUGE letters on the face of the box. Yet people still buy it - I guess Dennis Leary is right about that:

"Doesn't matter how big the warnings are. You could have cigarettes that were called the warnings. You could have cigarrets that come in a black pack, with a skull and a cross bone on the front, called tumors and smokers would be lined up around the block going, "I can't wait to get my hands on these f'n things! I bet you get a tumor as soon as you light up! Numm Numm Numm Numm Numm" Doesn't matter how big the warnings are or how much they cost. Keep raising the prices, we'll break into your houses to get the f'n cigarettes, ok!? They're a drug, we're addicted, ok!? Numm Numm Numm Numm Numm *wheeze*"

Just f'n quit already. Really, you'll be happier about it in a few weeks, once the withdrawl is over.

5. Don't f'n lie to me. If you're married, please tell me ahead of time. I don't have the money to do a background check on everyone I meet.

Nobody Strikes Like the French

At the beginning of December, the bus drivers went on low capacity strike. What this means is that they run fewer buses than normal at any time they feel like. You can see this coming already, can't you?

Yes, folks, the buses actually ran PERFECTLY on time that day. Generally the buses are off by a few minutes, no big deal (except for the number seven, it runs when it wants). But on this day, they were all on time, even the number seven. It was like the train system in Switzerland. F'n amazing.

You all should go on low capacity strike more often.

Near the end of December, I went to "The Titty Twister" with a college student I tutor (no joke, it's coffee place near the University. I ask people there if they know what the name means, they just shrug and go back to smoking).

The door was open, and there were a bunch of employees standing around.

"We're closed!"

"But it's 6:00 PM and the door is unlocked."

"We're on strike!"

"Of course. How effective for you to strike by showing up to work but not working!! Keep up the good work, guys."

Next Time on My Blog

If I remember, I'll tell you how much fun it is to use the toilets.