It was an overcast day but not chilly when we decided to head up into the mountains for an afternoon walk with friends. We weren’t in search of anything, in particular, just the meeting of new people, dialogues, laughter and panoramic views that stretch as far as southern Corsica to Limbara and to the northwestern tip of Sardinia. Pure Sunday bliss in my books, a perfect Sunday spent between mountain and sea. Continue reading
A three-hour train ride from Sassari got me to the island’s capital of Cagliari; a city that I still struggle to pronounce. I pronounce it like the city in Canada, Calgary, with a soft g. It does look like this cag-li-ari, to the English mind, but alas that is not the case. The locals here pronounce it like cal-ra-re, where’s the g sound in that? So, after much pronunciation homework, I set off to explore this city by the sea to discover rooftop panoramas, hidden alleyways, and an immensely wide, soft sand beach with a sea so limpid a pebble would send it shivering.
So what, I’m in love with Palau. Her picturesque, pristine panorama leaves me breathless and wanting more. I could, and I have sat in awe for hours, taking in the stunning La Maddelena and its archipelago: Isola Spargi, Isola Budelli, Isola Caprera, Isola Razzoli, Isola Santa Maria, Isola San Stefano and much more small islets that it makes me realize Continue reading
It has taken me months to come to terms with this difficult decision, weeks to accept its fate and countless hours on how I would pen a letter to the island and islanders who opened their hearts and doors to the expat Canadian who tried to make it work.
My fingers linger over the keyboard, trying to find the right momentum, trying to find the right words while internally I struggle. Continue reading
Welcome back for another installment of Learning Italian with Jennifer Avventura. This week we take a close look at the verb to like – Piacere. I hate this verb with every fiber in my being. I started to study Italian 5 years ago using a fabulous work book called Italian Now Level 1 by Marcel Danesi and I have just dusted it off in hopes to get this one verb mastered. This book has been a god send and I recommend it to anyone who is just beginning to learn Italian.
Piacere – to like
I’m tired of asking people “piace?” when I should say “ti piace” or “vi piace” depending on whom I’m speaking to.
Then things get really confusing if the noun is plural, not only do you have to change the article, you also have to change the noun and the verb! In English we have one article ‘the,’ however, in Italian there are seven and they are gender specific – il, i, lo, l’, gli, la, le.
Here’s a little exercise I did using the verb ‘piacere.’
Can you see all the eraser marks? It wasn’t an easy chapter to master and I’m still learning the basics of this very difficult verb.
Here’s a little hint:
Are you left confused by all this madness? Don’t worry, so am I.
Non mi piace il verbo piacere. Non e facile a imparare questo verbo e la mia testa gira quando devo pensare per piacere! Pero, mi piace mangiare pizza. Vi piace mangiare pizza?
How did I do above?
Can you offer any advice on how to master this difficult Italian verb?
For more in this series:
Learning Italian – At the local doctor’s office
Learning Italian – The ancient Italian coffee machine and an expat accident
Learning Italian – Studying for the Italian driving permit
Learning Italian – At the Gynecologist
Learning Italian – You said what?
Learning Italian – An attempt to learn Italian prepositions
Nothing makes me nostalgic for Canada than receiving super, duper mittens in the mail. I’ll be rooting for my home and native land with these new mittens, and putting my hands up in the air while, watching Canada kick butt at the Olympics in Sochi.
This is my response to the weekly photo challenge: selfie.
Just like the Emmy’s, Golden Globes and Music awards there are awards for bloggers who but effort, thought and heart into their blog(s). This year is the second year that My Sardinian Life has been nominated for the 2013 Canadian Blog Awards.
My Sardinian Life was nominated for Best Travel and Expat Blog. It would be fantastic to bring home the gold this season, and only you can help me do that.
To vote, just click the following link 2013 Canadian Blog Awards then scroll down the to the bottom of the page. Under Best Travel and Expat Blog click on My Sardinian Life.
Voting closes on February 22nd, 2014 so hurry before it’s too late.
A special thanks to Jonathan Kleiman who took copious amounts of time to organize this award for Canadian bloggers across the globe. Jonathan is a Toronto Business Lawyer and a Small Claims Lawyer and his side gig is organizing fantastic blogging awards. So, thank you Jonathan. I appreciate all the hard work you’ve done in the last year to make this award a reality.
So, what are you waiting for? Go on and vote. I am eternally grateful.
Once upon a time (about a year ago) a Sardinian travel agency contacted me to write brief English articles to help promote their travel brand. Unfortunately, at that time I was just packing up to move to Cayman Islands and I didn’t have the time nor energy to craft posts about Sardinia after slinging beer for 10 hours a day. I emailed them a polite reply stating that I was grateful for their consideration but am out of the country and haven’t the time to freelance for them.
When I returned to Sardinia last June I contacted this travel agency and told them that if the offer still stands I would be more than willing to write articles on Sardinia for them.
I didn’t hear back from them for six months.
I thought it was water under the bridge until a month ago when the same agency contacted me. At this point I thought “what the heck, eh” let’s do it.
This was their offer:
- 6 articles a month, 250-300 words (I could even use my existing blog posts but they would have to be re-worded).
- Write one post a week for their Facebook profile about Sardinia.
- Respond to any questions about Sardinia on their profile – maximum three questions.
- My pictures would greatly be accepted.
- €100 a month for three months.
I took to my super fabulous expat group and asked a few questions about this type of work, as I’m new-ish to the freelance world and I certainly didn’t want to sell myself short.
Here are some of the responses from my trusted, in-the-know peeps:
- not enough money.
- that is ridiculously low payment.
- you need to negotiate.
- work like this is likely never under €300 per month and that would be the bottom of the bottom.
- They will never find a native English-speaking person to work for that money.
- if you start low, you will stay low on the pay scale. It’s better to play hardball and present yourself as a professional.
- Off the top of my head €25 per hour for this type of work.
Like any professional freelance writer I responded with:
Good morning. I would be pleased to work alongside your team, however I would like to negotiate the salary. I am willing to write 6 articles a month including the use of my photos for €250 per month. I look forward to your response.
And this is what the agency said:
Good afternoon. Currently we cannot afford €250 a month as our budget for article writing is €100 a month. Please keep in mind that the articles do not have to be original articles, you are free to re-word the existing articles on your blog. Can we negotiate with 4 articles a month?
I thought over this offer for a good five minutes and decided that yes, I will give it a go. I’ve wanted to work for a company that is 100% owned and operated by an islander for a long time. It’s important for me to root my words, work and photography with the islanders who have adopted me.
I responded with:
Thank you and I accept your proposal of 4 articles per month for €100. I would like to be paid every month, not at the end of the three months. If you would like to add any of my photography, the cost will be €50 for each photo. How do you propose payment?
I understand that their budget is €100 a month, but I can’t nor I won’t give away my photographic work. Work that took hours of hiking in the mountains just to capture the feeling of Sardinia.
And now, eight days after I sent the last email I’ve heard nothing. Nadda, zilch, zero. I could have sent another email asking “what’s up” but I’m not desperate and I refuse to sell myself short.
You know what I’m tired of?
I’m tired of being paid pennies for my time and hard work. I’m tired of being taken advantage of with extremely low pay and no respect for the work done. This applies for hospitality work and freelance work.
Everyone I speak with says “Those are the rules here in Italy. Companies can and will take advantage of someone just so they can have more money in their pocket at the end of the day. We are just the little people here. In the end, it’s we who suffer. The ones who cannot make a difference. You either work for nothing or starve.”
Am I disappointed with the Italian way?
Sure, I am. Does it dishearten me to know people try to take advantage of me? Sure, it does. Does it lessen my love affair with the island I’ve come to call my own? Absolutely not.
If I’m going to work for free then I’m going to continue to craft posts about Sardinia and post them here, on my blog, where the only rules are mine.
Are you a freelance writer or photographer living or working in Italy? Would you submit your photography for free? Tell me all about it in the comment section below.
The last three months of 2013 were absolute hell for me, I’m glad 2014 is here and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a healthy new year. At the beginning of October I came down with ‘colpo d’aria’ which roughly translates into a ‘stiff neck’. Now, this wasn’t just a little stitch in my neck it was a HUGE pain in my
ass neck; you know the kind where your ear is glued to your shoulder and any movement you make sends shivering, painful shocks down your neck, back and arms. Heck, even sitting on the toilet was painful.
Then, I came down with a head cold which lasted two weeks. All that sneezing didn’t help the pain in my neck. By the middle of October my stiff neck was finally back to normal but I was still suffering from a serious bout of influenza which was now attacking my chest and lungs – I was a beautiful snotty, coughing mess.
By mid-November I was slowly getting back to my normal healthy self when I caught a nasty stomach virus which lasted a good three weeks. I thank the heavens above that I didn’t spill the contents of my stomach but the pain was enough to send me to the doctor for antibiotics, which I was instructed to take for a month. I dutifully took my medication and was beginning to feel better, at least I was finally eating full meals and enjoying a little Nutella on the side.
Just when I thought I was getting back to normal; one early, dark morning I awoke to make the morning coffee when the coffee pot fell from its perch on the stove sending the boiling contents down the top of my leg and onto the side of my calf. You can read all about it here, it was horrible. I couldn’t walk, sleep or shower for a good two weeks and the pain was incredible!
Four days after the scalding accident, I stubbornly threw on a pair of old track pants and limped into town for coffee at my favourite bar. It was nice chatting and catching up with some friends I hadn’t seen in a few weeks due to my illnesses. As I made my way out of the bar I slammed my thumb in the door causing blood to splatter on the door and the side of my good leg. I cried, and hid in the bathroom for a few minutes until I gathered enough courage to limp back home.
During the Christmas holidays I discovered a womanly problem that only a doctor could diagnose. The following morning I made my way down to the local doctor and this is what happened:
Me: Oh, um … Dr. Fantastic isn’t in today?
Doc: No, he is on holiday and will be back on the 4th. You can leave and come back then if you prefer.
I wasn’t mentally prepared to tell this very young and rather stubborn doctor my womanly problem. I was used to Dr. Fantastic, who usually visits me in my home if I call him and smiles and laughs and makes me feel comfortable. This temporary doctor had me flustered from the moment I walked into the office.
Me: Okay. Um. I have a little problem, here, and I think I need to take an exam.
Doc: Who sent you here?
Me: Uhh, huh? No one sent me here, I came on my own. I found this little problem and maybe I need to have an exam done.
Doc: Okay, but who sent you here?
Seriously, at this point I wanted to sucker punch him. What was he trying to get at with this question? I was beginning to think I was in the wrong office – it felt all Godfather-ish.
Me: Umm, uhh. No one sent me here. However, I would like to have an exam done please.
Doc: Yes, but I asked you WHO sent you here?
Me: No one told me to come here, no one! This is a doctor’s office right? And you are a doctor, correct? I have a problem, please …
Doc: WHO SENT YOU HERE?
At this point I was a little freaked out and wished my husband was with me, cause one swift look from Hub the doc would have shut his idiotic trap.
Me: Listen. Dr. Fantastic is my doctor. I live in this town and I have a health problem.
Doc: What is your name?
Me: Jennifer Avventura.
Doc: Write it down.
He quickly throws a pen and paper in my direction and I write my name down.
Doc: So, what is your problem?
Big internal sigh.
Me: I’ve already told you, three times!
Doc: Oh, then you will need an ultrasound?
Did he really just ask me what type of treatment I needed? Oh, heck yes he did!
Me: I don’t know what type of exam I need. I am not a doctor, you are.
He rudely types away at the computer, then the printer starts. Dr. Stronzo throws the la ricetta medica in my direction and tells me to have a nice day.
Without an examination!
What did I learn?
- Never visit the doctor’s office during the holidays.
- La ricetta medica – is the little piece of paper from the local doctor that you take to see a specialist.
- Colpo d’aria – a perfect translation is ‘air shot,’ however – it’s a stiff neck.
- 13 is no longer my favourite number.
- It’s probably better that I wrap myself in plastic bubble wrap the next time I leave the house.
More in the Learning Italian series can be found here:
- Learning Italian: You said what?
- Learning Italian: At the gynecologist
- Learning Italian: Studying for the Italian driving permit
- Learning Italian: The ancient Italian coffee machine and an Expat accident
Have you had any strange expat experiences while visiting the doctor? Tell me about it in the comment section below.
P.S. a total clean bill of health. Finally.
Okay, so my version of illuminated is probably the polar opposite of your illuminated with bright lights and bright skies, but let me explain: I’ve wanted to visit this little pond for six years, as from the road you can see an inkling of water – and yesterday my six-year dream came true. I was illuminated with excitement and giggles like a child when I found this pure white swan, I jumped up and down and sang “Duck, Duck, Goose” as I ran around the pond with my hands up in the air. Needless to say my heavily embarrassed Sard stayed in the car laughing his butt off while this lovely goose followed me around the pond honking.
You can find this pond in the quaint little town of Aggius.
This is my response to the weekly travel theme: illuminated.