The Real World Sydney- International Edition

Today is my 4th day in my new pad, and I still have not met all of my roommates. I was waiting to tell you about them all once I had actually seen all of their faces, but the anticipation is killing me. I just cannot wait any longer. I feel like I am on the MTV show, Real World, which (for those of you who aren't familiar) puts a group of strangers in a house and records their lives. It's suppose to reflect the "real world," and never does. But where in the world do a bunch of strangers shack up together anyway? Oh yes, in Australia. And my Real World is the international edition. My roommates are from all over the world, a fact that I love. The ones I have met are great-- super friendly, cool and respectful (very important). They are just one big, happy, foreign family. Now one that I am a part of. On to the introductions...

In my room there are 4 people, including myself. Occupying my lower bunk is Ginny. She is from Korea and is in Sydney studying and working. On the other side of the room are Nacho (not actually his name, but no one can  pronounce his real name so we call him by this cheesy, greasy, delectable appetizer) from Turkey and Etienne (I also have trouble pronouncing this one) from Barcelona, Spain. Both are great. Nacho works in construction 6 days a week. He leaves by 5 am each morning- yikes! I won't be signing up for that gig. Etienne just got a job at a retail store. More importantly, he is from my other homeland Spain where I studied abroad my junior year of college. We made a pact: I will speak to him in Spanish and he will speak to me in English so we can both improve our second languages. Score.  One of my hesitations moving into this house was that I would never have any privacy, but all 3 of my roomies are gone by the time I wake up in the morning around 8:00 am, leaving me to enjoy our luxurious room all to myself. It’s pretty great. Only problem, and i'm not going to point any fingers, is that one of these three is a snorer. I mean a SNORER. So bad I had to sleep with ear plugs in. Yea...hopefully it was a one night thing, cause I need quality sleep.

In the remainder of the house there are 4 other rooms, where my 8 other flat mates reside. I’ve met five. Luca and Guido are from Rome. They are great. (Everyone is great. Everyone will continue to be great. There is no other adjective. I apologize for my overuse of it). These two erase any preconceived notions I had about Italians (the ones that still live in Italy, not those Italians living in the U.S. such as my family), which is that they are sappy poets who throw out one cheesy compliment or pick-up line after another trying to captivate you and have you fall madly in love with them. At least that was my experience when I was in Italy. Flashback: Italian to me, “I can see the stars glistening in your eyes.” Me (in my head), “Really? Are you sure its not just tears of laughter I am trying to suppress?” Anyway, these guys are not like that at all. You will find no awful pick-up lines in this house. Thank goodness! Romeo works at a bar and restaurants in the evening. He and I are usually the only ones in the house in the morning, or afternoon I should say. He wakes up at 2:00pm, strolls downstairs and says, “Good morning.” To which I reply, “Good afternoon.” And he laughs, “But it’s my morning.” Luca is a chef, lucky for me. He is always cooking loads of pasta and pizza, and is more than happy to share. My own personal Italian chef? Couldn’t get much better. Luca and Romeo are always jabbering back and forth in Italian which makes conversing a tad complicated, but hey, maybe I’ll pick up some Italian while I’m here.

Then there is Ben from France. He is a quieter lad, but still a great one. He works Mon-Fri, 9:00-5:00 doing some type of government work I think. His visa is almost up, so I believe he’ll be heading out pretty soon. He rooms with Nancy who is from Los Angeles. We’ve only had a brief hello-goodbye encounter as she rushed out the door. But she seems great (of course). Lastly there is Norman, the Irish man. I love his accent. He’s like a life size version of Lucky the Leprechaun. Talking to him it’s like I’ve opened a bag of Lucky Charms (my favorite) and let out all the marshmallow goodness.  He’s just so jolly and Irish. And great. Norman also works a 9:00-5:00 job at some travel company or something.

And there you have it. You have officially met all my house mates that I have. You may have picked up that the majority of the house is male. And considering that, the house is immaculately clean! I mean back in the old days when I was just a young student at Syracuse University, guys’ apartments were absolute pig sties. Purely disgusting. I was afraid to even sit on their couches because I though I might contract a disease. So in comparison, my place is quite clean. And stink free! Which I also find quite amazing. But none of this is as surprising as how darn quiet it is. Twelve people in the house and most of the time I feel like I am the only soul. It’s great.