As acclaimed poet, Trinidad James once said,
“Pop a molly I’m sweating, Woo!”
Instead of mollys, Italian men to prefer to pop their collar. By this I mean instead of the traditional collar placement of folded at the middle, these guys keep the whole thing straight. In honor of this trend, and in honor of Mr. James, I’ve written a quick verse, along with photo references, about collars.
Maybe I gotta rash on my neck,
Cuz I keep my collar erect.
Maybe I’m just trying to look fly,
Cuz a popped collar ain’t never gonna pass you by.
Or maybe I work for General Mills,
And I’m Count Chocula bringing your breakfast some thrills.
Or I’m Danny from Grease, the movie,
Cuz my style is smoother than a smoothie.
Show these ladies what I can do,
Pop a collar I’m sweating, Woo!
On another note, I have started Italian school. Italian school ends before lunch, everyday! This is great because you have pretty much an entire day left after you finish school. If was left up to my own devises, I would only wake up just in time for lunch anyway so it really is a full day for me.
This the view from my school window!
School in a foreign language, unsurprisingly, can be quite challenging. The highlight is usually English class where I feel like an E.A.G (extremely academically gifted) student. The rest of the time I feel like what it must feel like to be a two-year-old. Where everyone else in the world seems to all be speaking the same language, and you only are just figuring out words like “more food” (piú cibo).
Today in Theology they wrote the Italian word alienazione in big letters on the chalkboard. After much deliberation and help from my translator app we figured out that it means alienation. In retrospect one can easily see where they got alienation out of that word, but when it is just written completely out of context it is quite puzzling.
This little anecdote serves two purposes. One, the word alienation is rather symbolic for my current position. Two, it exemplifies how a simple task (like reading one word) can be infinitely complicated by a language barrier.
Think of my world like a peaceful 70’s Berlin. The Berlin Wall is the language barrier and I’m trapped in West Berlin armed with a chisel. The land of Italian speakers is on the other side. Everyday as soon as I wake up I start chiseling away at the wall. I’ve made quite a dent but it will be a while before I can break through to the other side. I’m confident that before I leave I will have broken through at least my upper body, but for now I’m hardcore chiseling.