Building my nest..

.. and it's far more comfortable and filled with possibilities than I anticipated. My aunt spells her name Zhume which seems bizarre given we pronounce it 'Jumi' so I'm unsure about how to go about cyberfying her name and am open to suggestions from my nonexistent public. But her house is awesome- not only is it literally opposite, as in no, honestly, straight across the road from, the central Rome station but it has a free Italian language school on the floor below her flat to boot. Granted it's a jam-packed school for immigrants and asylum seekers where young Yusuf says the polizia would have a field day, but I'm happy enough to go there and double as a buffer between the encroaching crowd and my aunt who is put off by it.

The family all had colds, down to the new baby, who pulls off the cute scowler look. It is not really cold weather, although it would definitely have been worth rescuing my lovely Bosnian wool gown during that sad hand luggage debacle. I've alluded to that painful scene before but really it's just one of those typical tragic stories that happen when Azmis and airports meet and I don't feel up to delving into the gory details.

I spent the evening being challenged to a mental duel by young Yusuf on every subject from Ancient Egyptians, to World War 2, world languages, cultural vs national identities (the whole Bengal v Bangladeshi question rearing its head), subcontinental religion shifts - I bring up the partition of India but he refers back to the Mongols, comparing world population density, the most important discoveries of mankind (I tentatively mooted the Germ Theory as a highlight but he scorned me for my limited vision and declared the discovery of Fire trounced Germs)
I was seriously starting to feel out of my league with the 10 year old so I brought up my fail safe ego booster. Yes, I mean the Dictionary Game.

You know it's amazing what a bad teacher can do to a kid because despite the evidence of his conversation the boy claims he hates geography and history and doesn't see the point in them at all. His teacher yells at the students to get out of the class and they do, gladly.

Going through the digestive system, Magic School Bus style with the girl (we had to use our imaginations as there was no Szalinski zapper to hand) was far less of a strain on my exhausted mental faculties. The boy spent that time exploring my ipod playlist and classifying everything from Damien Marley to Artic Monkeys as 'rap music' His spontaneous breakout performance of 50 cent "go shorty, it's ya birthday" was as hilarious as it was unexpected.

Anyway I have been given the internetted living room - the computer has unlimited net but went mysteriously mute about a year ago and though the best minds of the Italian clan have tried to cure it, it seems determined to remain so. I'm going to try my hand at it too, while the boy shakes his head at my naivete and says it will never happen.

I don't mean to write with this blog with all the dull daily minutiae on a regular basis but it's my first day in a new land so it's excusable right?
I seem to be on course for my usual holiday minimalist diet and my uncle is already alarmed and pressing bananas and glasses of milk in my hand. My aunt is chilled out though and has a funny, almost zany streak so you know I think we will understand each other. I'm predicting good times.

I didn't mention yesterday night's abduction and surprise party. It was wonderful and a complete shock- I don't think anyone has so totally obliviously sleepwalked into their own leaving/ slash birthday party before. It's like the awesome version of when Cow drinks all my Vimto while I'm not looking and tells me I drank it myself and I believe her. I'm not crazy just too trusting..