north vs. south

Seeing the North Koreans play the South Koreans was a new enough combination, but beer and dried squid... that straw almost broke the camel's back. I say "almost" because that dubious honor is reserved for the $12 chicken nuggets that in order to rise above room temperature must be put in the soccer stadium's microwave by you after you buy them. At least the sauces were good.



We went with friends to see the soccer game on Sunday night and it was well worth the price of admission. If nothing else, it shows that soccer stadiums can be places where families congregate and petite Korean women feel at home. (Korea is very different from Italy in this regard. I don't even understand the Korean language but I'm fairly positive that the stadium wasn't filled with profanity-laden screaming. Or even anger for that matter. Just lots of chanting and flag waving and clapping. And some serious squealing by the ladies.)



Despite the begrudgery of some members of our party I decided to give the dried squid a chance. It was a school night and I'd already had half a beer, so I figured I might as well go whole hog and eat some dried-up pieces of fragrant sea life too. Good thing I did. Eating the stuff is vaguely reminiscent of fruit roll ups; you tear strips off of a larger sheet and while the concept may sound weird and a touch creepy, it tastes pretty good. Like chewy potato chips infused with salty fish flavor. That might not sound like a good thing - but it is.



The game ended in a 0-0 tie with a lot of running around but no goals scored. The two teams shook hands once the clock ran out and spent some time lingering together on the field. At one point the "One Korea" fans, who were holed up on the far side of the field, unfurled a giant white flag with a turquoise Korean peninsula on it -- the "One Korea" flag. Afterwards we noticed monks (didn't I tell you the stadium was a gentle place?) and others walking around carrying smaller versions of the flag.



Seeing the "One Korea" message was a pretty solid reminder of what would happen next. The jerseys would get thrown into duffel bags and the soccer balls would be collected and put away. The South Koreans would stay where they were and the North Koreans would get themselves back on their own side of the 38th parallel.

A gentle reminder that we live in a country technically still at war.

f is for fumare

We can go ahead and cross "Go to Soccer Game" off of our Italy To-Do list. While we're at it we can also eliminate "Smoke a Pack of Cigarettes in Two Hours" and "Learn Italian Swear Words."

Soccer is a beautiful flow of athleticism and momentum and I envy the athletes' superhuman coordination; watching a ball get kicked around has never been so entrancing. And we were lucky enough to see a game in which the final score was 4-1 (forza Inter!) which meant five goals were scored. That brings a lot of excitement to the relatively short 90-minute competition.

Unfortunately, in those 90 minutes, I think we smoked at least a pack of cigarettes each. Because while smoking "inside" is prohibited in Italy, the stadium seems to be considered "outside" and every chain smoker in Milan was there. Honestly, the guys beside and behind us (and for the most part the stadium is filled with guys) were smoking the entire time. It reminded us of an over-crowded Chicago bar right before the concert starts.

Except that back in Chicago we wouldn't have had the opportunity to also indulge in an Italian profanities crash course. While starting out with the usual "Mamma mia!" and "Ma dai!" to show their irritation, the fans soon digressed into a colorful display of vulgarity that wasn't wasted on us. We know enough of the language to notice when conversation heard in polite company is completely thrown out the window. La Scala this was not.

Overall, though, it was a worthwhile experience. We even enjoyed the high-tech entry system designed to thwart soccer hooligans from ruining the game. What with the single-person mechanized entry gates and the metal detecting, we could have been visiting the Royal Jewels. But no, the only similarity to London was the dense fog filling the stadium, which had nothing to do with nature.

Maybe there's a reason why every female's soccer ticket is discounted by 10 euro. (They know your gender because your ticket has your name on it, and you must present I.D. to enter.) Although the women I saw at the game seemed to fit right in with the general mood of the place. Cheering, smoking and swearing. With the most time spent on - you guessed it - the smoking.

F is for fumare.