Here's a nice little note we got from our new friend Hallie, who's traveling around Europe talking to strangers. She found someone really "deep" in suburban Italy.DearVice,I met Ivan in suburban Italy, where he ate sheets of ham and packaged chocolate cake for every meal. He's a Croatian who's restricted to only live in Italy due to beating up a cop in Spain and getting one of his passports revoked (the story was foggy). He only listens to hardcore, and because he didn't have air-conditioning, he made us go to an underground garage and watch Eastern European historical romantic comedies during the hottest parts of the day. When he asked if I wanted to stay for a while I said sure, and found out that little Italian suburbs are basically just like America's. To squelch the pain of being trapped in Italy instead of the hovel of the country he grew up in, Ivan solemnly rides his trial bike all day, shin-guarded up like a storm trooper to hop on potted plants and fall off ledges. It was beyond me to clue him in on the fact that Croatia, particularly Split, is nicely called a "developing country" the same way ugly girls are described as having a good personality and that Italy is a vast, and only slightly dull, improvement.
"What?"
"Write that down.
"OK."
"And write down 'I am the lens.'"
"OK."
Then he hugged me and said, "Write that I love soccer too much. See you in the next life."
I probably would have had the exact same experience if I got off the train in Sioux City, but instead of all that ham and cake, he'd have eaten Pop Tarts and mac 'n' cheese. HALLIE NEWTON
