Following the Flow and the Future Features

No. If you hoped that this blog was left off to die together with other crudely abandoned blogs, which started with that sudden courage of exhibitionism in the age of individualism of the masses – you were mistaken. It wasn’t a blog that began with the “oh well, everyone now has a blog, so will I” need to advertise myself. It was just an inner compulsion to find time to write again… To find time to write pieces which do not contain words such as “objectives” or “food security” or “project cycle” as its main vocabulary.

My absence was due to an overly intense engagement with the flow of life. I have myself been accused of intensity many a times, but in this case I have my job, my long distance relationship and searching for an apartment in Rome all to blame… In the past month I went to Liverpool, London, Milan, Riga (yes the amazing capital of Latvia) and to Warsaw. I have also visited my country boy in Tuscany and moved apartments in Rome… Now, it was the moving in combination with my unsustainable workaholic ngo job and travel that simply turned past month into virtual blogging absence…

Not that there weren’t many subjects…The following titles passed through as possible entries to the RANTING EXPAT and some will be elaborated upon in the not too distance future.

“Mourning Testaccio” – on how this Roman neighbourhood and my urban patio have grown on me in the period of past two years. How much I will miss Franco from the coffee bar next door which looks like a 70s disco never mind my old neighbour screaming at her husband each morning “get up before the market will close”. Luckily, the tomatoes stand at the Testaccio market is still only a few minutes away on the scooter…




“Ode to Shriaz Limoncello” – still to come. A short story about a certain Pakistani woman’s legacy of expat bonding through her art of limoncello making. Andi, your limencello is also to blame for my inability to stay late at night to update my so called blog…while in mourning my urban patio with Lynda phase…

Which brings me to:

“EAPS.” It has been a year now since birth was given to this little expat organization during one, long night in the middle of the desert in Botswana (all to blame on Limoncello). The outgoing chairman promised to overlook the making of a webpage, but we were all too busy and frankly too drunk to take proper minutes from this historic meeting and so the organization was left without tools to make the Chairman responsible for full delivery of his mandate. He did send though several “reminder” meetings but it seems that the next reunion will take place under the Tuscan sun… The acronym of the organiztion “EAPS” will not be explained until proper webpage will be developed. For a teaser, yes, the E stands for EXPATand the “A” for Limoncello…but also for beer, and gin…



Which brings me to:

“On Britishness” – just when I began writing this piece when visiting my boyfriend’s family in Liverpool and attending yet another meeting in my beloved London, I realized I was outsmarted yet again. There I was sitting on the train from Liverpool to London reading my favourite newspaper, of course THE GUARDIAN, noticing that certain Lucy Mangan has gotten it all down in her brilliant article “What it realy meant to be British?” Since as a Pole I am unqualified to write on this subject, if you want to learn it all about snobbery, insularity, anti-intellectualism, self-deprecation, humour, repression, politeness, nostalgia and slobbery – just click awayhttp://www.guardian.co.uk/britain/article/0,,1775681,00.html
All of this in the engaging, elegant style that makes as love (and in my case fall in love) with the British for being so self deprecating about being British. Only nations with a well developed sense of identity and self-esteem can fathom such mature gaze into their own demons. My only note is that I hardly think that anti-intellectualism is a British product – we all suffer from it in the age of mass media, mass blogging age…


Then in the past two weeks I moved my house thanks to the help of my wonderful Spanish roommate (ode to roommates and to Spanish guitars and to American women in Rome to follow), brilliant Ethiopian intern, American friend and English boyfriend. Next day I was boarding a plan to Riga, Latvia (GODDESS BLESS THE BALTIC STATES) to only come back to Milan, pass by my boyfriend’s house in Tuscany and finally steal a moment of time to write this entry from my internet disconnected new home…

Namaste. I didn’t make it to yoga for weeks now.

If this was an intense reading, the moving on my own will hopefully induce a bit of poetry writing attempts.