Forlì coming back to haunt me...

Coming back from Italy, my exchange was only technically half over as I still had to deal with….::dum, dum, dum::

McGill Bureaucracy.

For those of you who haven’t been filled in on my European escapades, let’s just say that from the get go, one of the most crucial plot points was the willing suspension of all previously conceived notions of reality and a certain disposition to bend the rules…You see, from the time I stepped foot in Italy, I knew things where not going to fall easily in stride with the regimented and sometimes overly stiff North American order and pace of life.

In short, of course I was supposed to be doing an exchange in Italy, but what most people don’t know is that I shouldn’t have been at Bologna. McGill’s Italian department…technically…has an exchange program set up with the University of Bologna, of course, but at one of the satellite campuses about an hour outside the city…in a town called Forlì.

Talking to people who had already done the exchange last fall, there was an overwhelming consensus to NOT go there… and rather take courses at Bologna.

Needless to say, the only time I ever technically “made it” to Forlì was only in passing on the way to the beach at Rimini.

In my defense, I did make an effort… I shopped for courses at Forlì, chose my apartment based on proximity and accessibility to the train station for commuting purposes AND even wrote a numerous emails to my advisor there… who, of course, managed to respond only after courses at started. But, in short, hitting the ground running in Italy, nothing panned out the way it was supposed to.

That was really the first time I took measures into my own hands. I’m a real stickler for the rules, and I have plenty a tragic to story to support my strong convictions as I always seem to get caught… this wasn’t an exception…really.

Bologna’s stance on the matter was very much laissez faire… and I’m pretty sure I could’ve taken courses in astrophysics… provided that I didn’t care to get any credits coming back to McGill.

So, you read about the great times already…now fast forward, to, I’d say about a month ago, when I was hunting down professors in the Italian department to sign off on my exchange.

Coming back to McGill, I diligently and thoughtfully wrote an email to the head of the Italian department here, who, 6 months earlier, had given me the green light to take courses at Bologna (after, of course, I thoroughly investigated the matter in Italy).

This was all well and good… but she retired May of last year.
Pardon me?

Fortunately piccolo crisi number one was averted because it turns out the prof who would be signing off on my exchange would be teaching my contemporary Italian prose course….

Perrrrrfeccccccccct.

After having a brief meeting and a significant shock and awe campaign of course syllabi and materials and a hefty list of books I read in Italy, I’d say we were on the same page.

BUT, of course, he wasn’t the guy to go to, as I would have to speak to the department head.

Now, the problem with the department head is that I dropped her course like a bad habit the beginning of this semester after attending one class…let’s just say she was bound to recognize me. ON TOP of that, I needed to check and double check the documents I submitted her, as I apparently handed into the wrong sheet to be filled out.

Situational awareness is an invaluable skill, and I envy those blessed with such a keen understanding for the people and world around them...

All and all, it wasn’t looking good.

Then, the moment of the truth a few weeks later… the meeting.

I was in top form sporting the famous gold shoes with documents in hand, ready for the worst...

-So… how was Forlì?

-Hmmmm… funny enough, I didn’t spend to much time in Forlì… most of the time I was there I spent in Bologna.

-But.. you..took courses at Forlì didn’t you…?

-Well kind of… you see ONE of the courses I took was offered at Forlì as well…BUT once I arrived, I figured out that the courses that would best transfer for my major were ::gulp:: in Bologna…See, look, here, I ended up making a big mistake and taking three masters level courses.

-::Silence::…Did you speak to professor Andrea Cristiani?

-::me not knowing whether Andrea was masculine or feminine:: Eh..by email…I contacted the professor (grappling for a gender neutral word).

And so my game of aversion and trying to come off as vague as possible ensued.
-Were there other McGill students there?

-Oh yeah.. Rocco, we pretty much saw each other every day.

-And how come I haven’t heard from him yet? (Rocco, when I last left you, decided to fully enjoy his sojourn, and, let’s just say pursued other interests outside the academic realm).

-Errrr…. I think he arrived and just decided he needed some time off.

-So, let me get this straight, you went over there and took courses at Bologna instead of Forlì (with the old department heads permission, I added.) You found that to be better…?

At this point I saw the light at the end of the tunnel… this was no witch hunt really, there was going to be no punishment from the new department head. Everything looked to be in the clear.

After about an hour of tap dancing around a pretty obvious point the course credit approval sheets were signed and soon to be handed to McGill administration the day after…It was a done deal.

I’m still waiting to see the results; I'll keep you posted.