Trips

Where are the good translators?

I started to work as a professional translator in 2010. I quickly understood that I was not a translator, even though I understood, spoke and wrote perfectly at least four languages.

Translating requires skills, which I am tempted to say, you only fully acquire after at least 10.000 hours of translating (school or practice). It is very difficult to be a good translator right after leaving school and I believe it also takes a lot of people and entrepreneurial skills to survive as a freelancer, combined it takes a lot to be a successful translator.

Five years changed me a lot. From an occasional household appliance manual’s translator now I work regularly for end-clients and agencies and understand every detail of the translation procedure from server applications to machine translation, from graphic design software to branding.

Recently I started to outsource smaller jobs or jobs, which I prefer to accept and outsource to trusted people than to lose myself as referent for a client. (earlier I searched for translators in ProZ, but it was a complete disaster, so I thought, I start to ask people in my circle of pro translators…disaster2)

In the first six months I haven’t even earned money with outsourcing and considering at least 2 hours I put into writing emails, controlling the quality, invoicing and paying it is almost foolish.

This recent experience of more or less eight months make me say, that I learnt more about translators in these months than in the previous five years and six translator’s conferences before. Below I summarize the typical translators I meet when I try to outsource (all of them I met on a translators‘ conference, creme dela creme. The types do not refer to a single person, but to a type of translator)

  1. The Busy:

I know this person from a LinkedIn group, where we had the pleasure to exchange our pain about an agency, which from one day to another decided that a translator for the same price also has to include proofreading for every job.

I know for fact that this person is in the minimum tax payment level – meaning he earns less than 15000 € / year – and since we work for the same agency I know that foremost deadline is in a week. Nevertheless, he tells me on the 15th of the month to be busy until the end of the next month and possibly can’t start with my assignment before June – it is mid-March now.

Problem: it is an ideal answer, if you don’t want to hear anything from an agency/outsourcer/client ever again.

Solution: if you are giving impossible deadlines, either you should switch off your website offering quick processing times; stop snivel about your low yearly income or face that you are not an ambitious person and are unable to organize your services. Start a business school and start using a calendar.

  1. The Important

This person would never work for less than 12 cents per source word – for friends, so best-price take it or leave it – and responds to your email after two days just 20 minutes before he needs to leave town giving you only his landline number where you can call him… When you call to ask for his availability and prices – see above – he lists every goddamn thing he needs to do before he can actually take a look at your translation at all (tomorrow he is at a trade show in London, the day afterwards his son gets braces in Florence, while the coming weekend he has to attend a funeral in Berlin, right before he starts an interpretation in Austria.)

Problem: I am a busy person myself and when I need someone for a translation, I don’t want you to keep me on the line – for a call I pay for – to tell me in five minutes, what you could tell me in a sentence: I am not available.

Solution: respect your customer’s time and be short in answering, all he wants to know about you is whether you can or can’t do a translation for the money offered in the given time, the outsourcer is not your fan, but the person filling your wallet. This should change perspectives…

  1. The Diva

This person knows everything and everything even better.

He doesn’t even do the translations of his website on his own but outsources it to another diva, this makes him very high profile.

He is present at every translation conference and talks a lot about business practices. He knows every insider joke and is part of every association, updates his FaceBook status every 10 minutes, but when you ask him to work on something, he comes up with some really cheap excuse. 1. “in this moment I have headache” or 2. “no, thank you, I will go on holiday next week for a month” without even giving you any message of: this is a one time no, please ask me again or giving me a name of anyone suitable.

Problem: I have the feeling that most of these people are so insecure that they need to create a kind of bubble around them made of “professionalism”, but when you ask them a specific question, only fried air is coming out of their mouth.

Solution: Think about if working or being worshiped is important for you. Watch out to give away your business cards, actually someone might ask you for work!

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Trips

Cuba

I kept notes on Google Keep during this trip. I won’t change any of these, just copy-paste it.

Exhausting immigration – November 7, 2014

We are in the immigration line since almost an hour. It is hot, slow and exhausting. It seems after the first check there is another one. I am tired and just can’t figure what they are afraid of? Someone steeling poverty or Castro?

First breakfast – November 8, 2014

At our first breakfast there is Desperados in the TV. Makes me remember last year Mexico.

Playa Santa Lucia – November 9, 2014

Sometimes the good will is really not enough. We tried to take a walk at 9 AM, but it is too hot.

Now we see 5 people with one fork and a tractor who want to clean the beach. They take turns but still their work doesn’t make any difference. The beach is still dirty when they leave.
What a difference could one machine make which only would need one person.

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CUC and Cuban Pesos – November 10, 2014

How does this even work with the two different valuta in Cuba? If they earn 250 pesos – more or less 10 CUC – how come a bottle of water can cost 2,5 CUC?

Casa particular – November 12th, 2014

The owners of these places seem to be freelancers since ever who also weigh the cheese you get for breakfast. Don’t wait for a Cuban old men with cigar swinging in his rocking chair instead of try weighing the money, like you’d be home and choose the places outside the Casa. That is the way to help Cuba, the Casa Particular is more a network of lucky people, who had enough money to sell a room for 25 CUC – aka 25 USD – per night and want to add to this 5 USD per person for breakfast. (if you also want to have an extra egg, you add an extra dollar). A mafia which only helps to create to separate the social classes and creates unknown differences. Don’t like…

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Camagüey – November 12th, 2014

This was the stop where we acknowledged as a fact that Lonely Planet in Cuba is not reliable.

Already in Santa Lucia we faced problems with their facts but here….we found restaurants which were closed, 24 hours pubs which actually were open 12 hours, and most importantly we feared this city since it has been announced that there are pickpockets. We had NO delusions, the city was nice and calm, even in the evenings.

A beautiful place with a UNESCO heritage center loads but really loads of good restaurants and a casa (really) particular which changed our trip. You can mail them at: aledino@nauta.cu, Alejandro will be happy to help you!

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Menu – November 12th, 2014

Curious fact: in restaurants I never get a menu, only Giorgio…

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Cuban music – November 13th, 2014

In Trinidad you can find everything. A beautiful beach – Playa Ancón, where snorkelling an hour costs 10 CUC pro person – places to drink Mojitos, museums and finally music.
Until this stop we thought two things about Cuba: all old men sit infront of their houses smoking cigars. These old men sometimes sing and play some music.
None of this is true until you get here. This is a touristic pearl less Cuban than anything else, you see in other cities. Every second house is to let, everyone has a taxi or a café. Here you can find Restaurants in every corner and musicians who after some Guantanamera and Chan Chan offer you their homemade CD-s for 10 CUC. After we bought 2 CD-s and almost 10 Cocktails each we found that Trinidad is the best Cuban town ever. (Tourists…)

Tip: fresh bread costs around 3 pesos cubanos, is freshly made and heals the need for food on your way home after the cocktails.

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McRon and IKEA – November 14th, 2014

There is no known globalism here. When McDonald’s gets here, will offer banana chips, while IKEA invites you to put together your own rocking chair. LOL beautiful place first day when I haven’t even thought about not having internet.

Drinks in Cuba – November 14th, 2014

We are vegetarians so all we could eat was white rise, sala made of vegetables of the season (cucumber tomato and cowl every time), banana chips and drinks. We tried every type of rise, white rise with black beans, white rise with veggies, paella with veggies. Interestingly there was no potato on the menu. Maybe it is no season?
Holy Cristal and Mojito made our trip enjoyable. I had a light diarrhea after 5 days during the whole trip – might be the ice.

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Berry Moré (Cienfuegos) – November 15th, 2014

He was a very famous singer who started his carrier in Cienfuegos.
There is a bar named after him on El Prado. The bar is sad, one of the worst I’ve ever been at. The Cubans come here usually just to use the bathroom.
There also is a TV showing Berry Moré-s performances.
Being the only guest the waiters didn’t let themselves disturb by our presence and continued smoking and drinking their own beers (11:30 AM).

Benny Moré bar (we were the only guests)

Valle de los Ingenios – November 16th, 2014

Framboyan, the typical tree giving enough shadow to be the preferable choice

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Vinales – November 17th 2014

A whole day in the valley going on a long 15 km walk which highlight is bathing in a natural lake in a cave. A grave which in Europe would be lighted, prepared with small streets to watch the quartz formulations and at least two people looking at you during the walk that you either touch nor break or take away anything.
Here we walked through a tobacco field all alone with a guy, and once arrived at the cave we had one guide with one light for 10 people. He gabe another light to a guy who walked behind and that’s it. We walked 300 meters in the darkest dark on ad-hoc bridges over the water to reach the lake (without light) . We renounced on bathing enjoyed though this strange freedom which in Europe with the regulated regulations is all unknown

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Street thought – November 18th, 2014

There are so many Cubans on the street. In the morning going at work, those looking at them from their gardens, during the day in the parks, in the evening in their rocking chairs. Will all these people sit in front of their houses when there will be internet or sit inside looking at their cellphones and tablets?

News in Cuba – November 18th, 2014

We had the pleasure to see in one of the casas the news on a Cuban channel.
It was only good news. First day Raúl inaugurated some photo-voltaic park somewhere in the country then there was some new construction in Havana saving old houses, then good sports news from Veracruz 2014 and so on. The only bad news was from some neighbor country which performed worse than Cuba in grain production or so.
Our news starts usually with someone who has been assassinated then it goes over to strikes, health problems, wars around the world, inflation, government issues.

However when I see that people here have no money for even using buses and are in the road hitchhiking – in the middle of the tollway, literally between the second and third lane – or waiting for a “collectivo” (a truck carrying people) I see no reason why they should be kept with this intoxicating mixture of happy Cuban music, cheep tobacco and rum and good news.

Nauseating to think I was raised in a similar country (which seemingly goes back to the same political ideals of keep the people stupid and give them no power nor freedom to form their own ideas.)

Last day Havana – November 19, 2014

We left only one day for Havana. The city is big, chaotic and the after we saw the “best museum” according to Lonely Planet – El museo de la revolucion – we were convinced that one day will be enough to satisfy our interests.

We took a long walk in Havana Vieja, saw the four squares some of the most beautiful streets and drank the last mojitos.
It was raining, a beauty in the zone of the port but it made impossible visiting the Hemingway museum – the tunnel gets filled with water when it rains.

I have so many memories, thoughts and hopes for this country. I believe it was the best moment to visit, we saw the beginnings of a changing ambient, something where a double-money started dividing the classes more than capitalism ever could. We saw the poor, street dogs thin like pencils – this actually made me want to leave the most this country. Animals in poor condition, exploited or let on their destiny -, we saw cities where anything you see needs reconstruction.

When we return it won’t be the same. Not even in a year you can trust our notes, the Lonely Planet 2013 October edition appeared to be almost useless…just a year and opening hours, places, prices, quality changes.

I will miss the goodness of Cuban people, the feeling never to fear anyone, not even in the poorest streets. I won’t miss the smog, the rests of a communist state where working only means to have the power to control a small reality but not creating happiness or allowing to build the base for a good future.

It was good to be here.

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You also can watch our photos

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Mental trips, Trips

My story

I had a life, before I started to travel. I lived in Hungary. It was beautiful.

Yesterday the manager of the youth centre, where I practically grew up – I’ve been there every evening to meet friends, if it was a school day, until 9 PM, on Saturday until midnight – he found me on facebook and told me, that in a sort of way, I am part of the history of that centre.

It started in a time, when in Hungary not having a job was a crime. Everyone had a job, since in the communism there is no unemployment, there were no homeless, everyone had at least a flat and we thought that the capitalism is dying.

(There were no cable TV-s, no foreign radios – it was a crime too to listen to Radio Free Europe, there were no political foreign newspapers to buy, no foreign newspapers at all, I think. If you wanted to have a telephone at home, you had to apply for it at the city council and it took sometimes ten years to get it. Obviously there was a manual switch centre to be connected to someone outside the hometown, you couldn’t phone anyone abroad).

If you knew anyone, who fled from Hungary in ’56 and came back then to visit you – if I remember correctly, the first time, they could come back, it was the 80’s – these visitors were followed by a police car all the time, just to be on the safe side.

We didn’t have passports, if you had to go abroad (maybe your company organized something or other political reasons for party members), you had to apply for one, and there was a quite long period, until they investigated your whole life, if you have anyone abroad, so maybe you just want to run away from the perfect world after your trip and you never want to come back.

For me it was a safe place, I’ve never seen anything else, so I didn’t really care about the capitalism. There were no Nike shoes, no foreign music, officially – from the point of view of the Party – which party….? What a question, there was only one Party, THE party – not even the church existed (members of the party couldn’t enter churches)

Intellectuals, philosophers and people in generally, who thought differently, got in jail, got tortured, got killed. (You ask, who knew about them thinking differently? Hach….your own neighbour, your own child could report you to the police, if any cadre got it to know, you were dead. Like literally. Once I asked my mum, how come we say, that the pioneer tie is a piece of the soviet flag, and in the same time, it has the washing instructions on it? And by the way how big should this soviet flag be, if every pioneer has a piece of it? She said, I never have to talk about things like this at school. It is against THE SYSTEM, we can get in trouble. I was 11.)

But it also was the time, when I grew up, and in that time I haven’t really realized these restrictions, communism was the only thing I knew, Russian the only language I wanted to be able to speak, Moscow the only city, I ever wanted to see in my life.

I had loads of friends at school and when we became teenagers, we met after school in this house, at the youth centre. I smoked my first cigarettes with them, we got drunk together the first time, usually we’ve been in the park of the town hall, near to the police station, who usually catched us home, if we’ve been there until late. There was a kind of law, that more than three people can not talk together on the streets…(fear of a possible revolution), but since we’ve been kids, they didn’t really care.

We played games, we talked about the school, about going on Saturday into the local disco, when one of us got his first car – he was a car mechanist and could borrow one car from his boss – we also went to the other cities’ discos. We had no money at all, we bought for one evening only five pieces of cigarettes – the shop offered this service – and drank one beer the whole evening, if….usually I had a coke.

Right after ’89 the manager of this centre started to organize concerts in the culture hall, we loved every one of them. Hobo (he had a song about the tram nr. 56, which had its final station on the Moscow square. Although it was the truth, he obviously used this truth to say something more and he obviously got in jail for this song), Deák Bill Gyula, Kispál és a Borz, PUF…young groups, who understood much more of politics and the life, than we did, we only repeated the texts, sometimes without even understanding them.

I was against the old system, without even understanding the why, it was old, and people were happy, when the Russian Army has left our country. I participated on the first festival in Budapest to celebrate this and on several other festivals, from which the Sziget festival was born then during the years.

I so loved our centre, my friends were the most important people in my life, I never wanted to leave my home town. I loved to walk on the streets, to go to friends’ house, who could smoke at home, and have a cigarette with them…Jees, if I think, that from these friends some of them are already dead – disease, accidents, heart attack, there is also a friend, who committed suicide….so sad – and practically no one is living in my home town, there are just no jobs now.

Memories about a whole other world, which I also wish a way to never come back.

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Trips

Social networks

You know, when this social networking started? Facebook was long ago on its way, before it became fashionable. I got an invitation from a family member, where I used to babysit in 2006. Jees, 6 years ago? I signed up, like I was signed up for MSN or other networks in that time like myspace or something. Does anyoone remember? It was just another possibility to set a new imprint in the internet. (Imprint in the internet, I also remember one of my courses on the international university in Venice, where we had to write papers every week about a political topic, and our teacher promised us, to get one of us into the first 10 search results on google for the best paper on one of the topics  (2004)..In that year being on google was like having won the Big Brother now. If I google myself now, I am not only in the first 10 results, I am the first 10 results…)

A Hungarian social network started in the same year – maybe, I signed up for that too in 2006 or was it 2007? -, it is called iwiw (independent who is who). I was already living abroad since 7 years by then, so I really enjoyned reconnecting with old friends. I first started with my best friends, lots of them were not even registered yet.

Once it became famous, I got lots of invitations from people, I haven’t even remembered. You know, so many things happened in my life, the older memories got greyed out, sometimes I was remembered by good friends on stories, I apparently was part of, but I just can’t recall with the same enthusiasm, or I can’t recall at all.

When the collection of the good friends was complete, I just browsed the “you may know” lists, and found some people, who were already the friends of my friends.

Once I found an ex of mine, who was living in France since 1998 and the only news I got from him since we broke up, was, that the Hungarian police was searching him, since missing person. I found him on facebook and connected to him, like in a minute. It was so funny, the Hungarian police apparently hasn’t used facebook back then.

We started to chat with him about the past 6 years. I learned that he is a proud father and lives with a beautiful girl. After that day we came back to each other sometimes, then we just liked each other’s photos and then nothing. I don’t remember, when I saw him the last time sharing anything. (oversharing, undersharing?) I even was thinking, that if he is signed up, he has the duty of informing me about his life, I am part of it again. (he let over 500 people to be part of his life though).

But this is just like social networks work, you know someone, you get in touch and secure the connection, since you can reconnect in every minute, than you realize that or you don’t have a goddamn thing to talk about, so it was a good decision not to keep up with the friendship/relation or so much time is over, that there is no point to get in touch again.  What to do then? Unfriend? (named word of the year in 2009) It is rude…you can move him to the list of people, from whom you don’t want to see the updates, since newest.

It makes me think of how some people stay friends with the exes. I never could manage it. I still can’t decide, if it is a healthy relation to stay friends after a relationship is over. You broke up because you couldn’t agree or you cheated or you lived another life, why is there the need not to let go? Is it so hard to start over and realize that you are different? Yes, I don’t like black and whiting, although my rules are so strict  sometimes. And I even was searching for my own ex in France, I just wanted to know, if he is ok maybe.

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Trips

My reality show

I’ve already blogged about the huge technology improvement in my life and actually in the life of every one of us, which made it possible in slightly more than 20 years to get from having internet, on which there was not really so much to do, into using internet for something you need.

So from an innocent and maybe useless tool, it became something, that can solve my problems, makes me think and helps me to get through the day by eliminating distances in working relations, helping to solve difficult problems in a short time and makes life liveable.

Whoever does not understand this statement, is not familiar enough with the capabilities of the computer and internet and should try to familiarize with some of the mentioned concepts.

I only can live a distant relationship, because I talk to Giorgio every day through fring as much as I want to. When we don’t talk, we chat. I also prefer fring in respect to skype, because finally I use a special device – my phone – and a special service – fring – only with him. He is special, he needs a special contact.

The groceries ordered in internet, my bed, ordered in internet, my flat, where I live, my job, where I work, my bank, that I only know from the internet, but where I actually only have been once, when I opened the bank account, is already an old story.

Yesterday Giorgio presented to me the new technological family member. An IP webcam. I can see the flat through 2 – two – webcams, throughout the day, I can turn the cams into a right direction, there is a motion detector, the possibility to zoom into anything, you need, I certainly can shoot photos of moments, I particularly liked.

I am already dependent. I love to look at my black cat eating, he makes so funny noices – poor soul misses some dents – I love to see my flat and turning around my “eyes” to look at the walls, to see, what is on the table, etc. Sure, this wouldn’t be possible without Giorgio, who has such a trust in me, that he gives me the possibilty to log into this website whenever I want to, putting himself into a kind of Big Brother. Today I was like looking at him for 10 minutes, how he is fighting with our white cat not to let him get any food form the salad bowl. (Giorgio has decided to eat in front of the pc in the living room, and the cat is not tolerating anyone eating on the sofa, without paying a tithe.) I was so happy, I wanted to talk to them – there is a mic function – but then again, I got like sad. I so wanted to be there, to cuddle them, and tell Giorgio not to play with the cat’s habits, people in our house are eating in the kitchen and Rise – white cat – will not understand, if you don’t like to do so one day, he will think, it is on purpose, food sharing.

I shut it off…It is too much even for me…

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Trips

“Kulturschock” London

Another close friend of mine asked me, how I spent the first days in London. Beside the fact, that it seems, that I still don’t master the English language good enough, maybe friend means already close, anyone else should be a buddy…? Suggestions are accepted, but please, only from natives!

So, how were these first days?

The day of my move is already documented. It was an easy-going disaster, which at least was adjusted by Giorgio’s arrival. He gave me money, we bought a mattress together and he told me, how wonderful it is, how I live, that not many people can be proud of having lived in four different countries. Like, really lived there, I don’t count the USA-s two months’ experience, I don’t even count Spain, where I only studied and stayed for less than a half year…Maybe I should?

Anyway, I want to know better the UK, want to do everything I can, talk to anyone on the streets, in the shops, ask everything, not to accept things, I don’t know, or let me intimidate by strange happenings. It is like going back to be a child. Everything I do, I do it for the first time.

Sure. Globalization helps a lot. Yes. Movie theatres are the same, shopping is basically the same, the food in the grocery shops, the offer of the mobile companies…so it is not difficult to adapt quickly. Just few things, I couldn’t manage at the beginning, what is worth a post:

Opening a bank account: I clearly remember, when I arrived to Italy – back to 2005 -, Giorgio told me about a bank, which gives huge interests, gives a debit and a credit card, and there are no costs of closing and opening the account, and if one is not permanently resident in Italy – which was my case that time – also the administrative costs are zero. It was the IWBank, that time it was maybe the only real online bank. I opened an account online in literally five minutes and in two days I had my debit card. I was set in less than a week.

Here…I made my research already in Italy. Obviously the first choices were having an account at IWBank or Ing Direct, where I bank now – which beat IWbank only because of the Orange Saving Account – but the first doesn’t operate in the UK – homepage exists, but it is not possible to open an account online – while the second doesn’t have the bank account option, only the savings account.

So, on the oldschool mode, I went to the biggest bank I saw on the streets of Kingston and tried to open a bank account personally. As I arrived here like a week ago, I had two choices at HSBC. Opening a “passport account” for 8 £ a month, or asking my employer for a letter, that proves that I work at their company, and waiting for a Thames Water/Southern Electricity bill, that proves, that I live here.

This second point made me crazy. Thames Water registered me with the wrong name – not Kis, but Jis – so their bill is not accepted by the bank, while Southern Electricity can send me my first bill only in six weeks. So what? First the bank said, the employer’s letter is enough, than they wanted the actual address proof, than they simply rejected the apply. I asked for the reason, the employee said, he can’t tell me the reason. WHAT????? Yes…So I still don’t have a bank account, drives me crazy and makes me think, how I not only depend on money – I have enough to live a year without working – but also on a card, a cheap plactic card…My debit card still didn’t work at that time, while the credit card is charged with the monthly rental, what is high enough to pull it almost in red. After all tis frustrating rejection, I tried my debit card again, just…you know, like wonders happen, AND IT WORKS!!! First thing I’ve done, was withdrawing 200 £ forr no reason, just to have it. Second, I kissed the card (hopefully it will not lose its magneticity).

What can I tell about the rest in London?

I saw people walking on the streets in shorts, girls without socks, people in T-Shirts, I mean….yes, the weather is really good, it is 10 °C, but it is still no reason for getting pneumonia. During the New Year’s Eve the girls heading to a party were dressed in mini skirts, without stockings, with open backs, without obviously a coat or anything. Actually a good idea, if you take the public transport, probably you don’t have to stay around more than 5 minutes in the cold, but I was so surprised. How could their mothers let them go outside, clothed in NO-THING? I am still perplexed by people not wearing proper winter cloths.

I buy my food at the Lidl, which is basically the same, like in every country. Cheap things, some of them good, some less good. I need a lot of time to find the good quality food and something is even not possible to find in a good quality. The second option is the Tesco Express, which offers very good quality food, with self-service checkout for an affordable price.

I bought a new television, as the old one hadn’t got freeview built-in, and in the UK we have digital TV. I also bought a TV licence, now the only thing I miss are the channels, since the plug in the wall is probably too loose to keep the cable firm. I have to call the estate agency to send me someone. I miss CSI and NCIS and the news in the morning, of course.

I applied for council tax – maybe its bill arrives next week, what could speed up the bank account situation.

Work is fine, lot to do, nice colleagues. As far as I know, in the office we only have one British guy, the rest is from outside. This British guy has Sri-Lankian origins and a beautiful British native accent. He’s very nice, my superior, the project manager of MORMED. Work is 10 minutes from home by foot  and is 15 minutes walk from Kingston centre.

Ach, today I was in the movie theatre. The movie is fine, it costs for an adult almost 10 £, small popcorn is for 4 £, I mean…it is not the cheapest relaxation, but I read, that this Odeon theatre is one of the biggest theatres in London and if I always go at 1 PM on Sundays like this, it becomes my lunch and a good digital or 3D movie. I saw the Iron Lady, full immersion into the British culture. Yes, obviously I cried. Margaret Thatcher was my childhood’s idol, the iron lady, the lady, who could change actually something in the world’s tread. Will I change something sometimes?

Ach, a very interesting thing, I haven’t found a bookstore yet…I would need a good guide to London, as I suppose to spend next Sunday downtown. Am eager to go to the Tate Britain and eat in one of the city centre’s pubs afterwards.

 

 

So, basically I have to state, there is no Kulturschock at all, I enjoy the city, the walk to work, staying at home, the winter sale – J – and the British life. Can’t wait, that Giorgio comes to visit – or any other guest, so you, dear reader are very welcome – to go to a Sunday lunch into one of the pubs.

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Trips

The meaning of life

Today, in the morning, shortly after I woke up, I checked my mails. I always check my mails in the morning, not even my eyes are open, and I wanna connect to the world outside. To make sure, that everything is ok, that I didn’t miss anything.

Maybe this is something important in my life, I don’t wanna miss anything, I wanna see/do/participate.

So I found an email in my inbox folder from one of my close friends…maybe she doesn’t even describes herself, as a close friend of mine…anyway, she has/had an important part in my life, being part – without knowing it – of my decisions in important situations and showing me, how one can live determined.

She just wanted to know, if everything is fine here, if I live ok, and in someway, I think, she also wanted to talk. So she “said”, how bold my decision was, to come here, to change my actual position, to leave my employer and the country I lived.

It made me think.

I mean, someone also could consider my BIG DECISION a cowardliness. I couldn’t stand my work anymore, I can’t deal with the every day life. All I did is replicating, what I already knew. What is it like to work, like one would only throw up something, one already has eaten previously? I wanna eat again, digest, feel the aroma of the knowledge and that of the learning. Money?…maybe doesn’t even matter, you know, it is about not feeling dead while I am still alive.

So when this close friend of mine wrote in the email, that she is reconsidering her decision of having created a nest for herself and her partner in the town, where she started to work after the university, I felt something frightening: I found the meaning of my life.

Frightening, because I never thought, there would be something like ONE meaning of the life. And frightening, because maybe I am wrong, and at this point, I could stop to look for further meanings. (Is the meaning of the life ambiguous?)

I am still sure, that there is an individual meaning for everyone. I am sure, that people, who are married and have five children before they turn thirty, have found the meaning of their life, and am sure, that I couldn’t live their lives not even for a second (I am also sure, that they would find my “homelessness” terrible and maybe also senseless). I am sure, that THE meaning of one’s life is as personal as defining beauty, love or hate.

The meaning of my life is this: not being satisfied, until there is the minimum of sentiment of mine, that tells me to go on. It can be hard for the people who are around me, like Giorgio, who is the quite opposite of mine and would maybe never change a comma in his life, when he finds the balance of living calm and peaceful. But he accepts me and helps me in everything I do, he is just sooooo perfect as a partner!

So maybe I should accept, that my life will always be like this. I maybe always will change important columns of my life from one second to another, and wanna always have something new for me, something, I still don’t know and haven’t seen or tried before. The life is just so short, why should I renounce on something, I also could see and know?

It doesn’t make my life easier, but who wants to live easy? What I want is feeling alive, having difficulties, having always something to think, to wonder at.

Does that make sense?

 

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