It's time to change

Hello all,
after the first +10.000 views in just 2 weeks, we have think to move the blog to www.oneworldmanylifes.com.

We took this decision because we want give you all right on your story. So we have bought a domain where we can better manager your stories.

The aim of the blog is always the same, tell one of your day.

So, enjoy the nexts sotries that will posted on www.oneworldmanylifes.com.

Thank you to all writers and readers,

Enjoy your days.

Extending the air

"Kerplunk": it's the sound I hear when I do a backward roll out of the dive boat and into the water to begin another scuba dive.  I make a mental check, my mask is fine with no leaks.  I'm floating back to the surface so I must have put enough air in my buoyancy control device ("bcd").  Air in the mouthpiece seems to be flowing fine, so now all I have to do is wait until I hit the surface so I can reclaim my underwater camera.  I can see bubbles rising above my head to the surface.  With a kick or two, I hit the surface and signal I'm ok, and ask for my camera.  After claiming my camera, I check my computer, it's in the proper mode.  I attach the camera to my bcd and then let the air out of my bcd and begin my descent to the ship wrecks below.

Ordinarily, when I descend, I am pretty slow because it takes awhile for my ears to equalize to the water pressure.  Most of the time the other divers who are diving with me are already on the bottom before I get there.  This is a shallow dive so the time it takes me to get to the bottom is very short, maybe a minute.  As I get close to the bottom I see it is sandy which means that I have to stay above the bottom otherwise I will stir up the sand and there will be nothing to see around the wreck until the sand settles to the bottom, perhaps 15 minutes later.  I get to the bottom and look around.  My dive computer tells me I'm only 17 feet beneath the surface.  The wreck is within arms' length from me, but I don't see any of the other divers including my dive buddy, my wife Nancy. And, then it hits me, of course no one else is down yet because Andrew the dive master wanted me  to go first to be able to get a few shots of the wreck before everyone else stirred up the sand.  My immediate thought was, I better start shooting pretty quickly because this blissful quiet won't last long.

I'm amazed by what I see.  A lot of fish seem to be congregating around the back of the ship.  The ship is the Berwyn.  It was sunk by its crew about 90 years ago because they did not want to leave Barbados.  Given the warm clear water and abundance of fish life, I am beginning to understand why the crew of the Berwyn didn't want to leave.   There are french grunts, pork fish, glassy eyed snappers and other fish I don't recognize right away.  I roll on my side and start taking wide angle shots to capture the wreck and show the background of fish.  What is left of the Berwyn after 90 years underwater is pretty amazing.  The hull is still relatively intact.  After I have taken about a dozen shots I look at my dive computer.  I've been down almost 10 minutes and I have only see a couple of the other divers, but at least I have seen Nancy my dive buddy. 

I take a few more shots of the Berwyn and then I see Andrew the dive master starting to lead the group away from the Berwyn to the next wreck.    

I look at my dive computer and see that I still have plenty of air in the tank, and do some mental calculations about how long I should be able to stay underwater.  It occurs to me that I've already been down at least 10 minutes which means that I am going to have to really go easy on air consumption otherwise I will have to come up long before the group is ready to surface.  Usually I can stay underwater 40-45 minutes with my underwater camera depending on how deep the dive is.  So I try to slow down my breathing and remain calm as we kick towards the next wreck in Carlisle bay.  As we go I am amazed there is a bit of a debris field probably from the next wreck.  I see an anchor as I continue to kick to the next wreck.   

We reach the next wreck and I can see it is a much larger ship than the Berwyn.  There are holes in the side of ship which we can look in and see an amazing abundance of fish.
 The depth now is about 30 feet and I look at my air guage and do some more mental math to try to figure out how my air consumption is doing.  I think I should have enough air.  I will just have to be careful to keep my movements as efficient as possible.
My shoulders are a bit stiff.  The weight of my camera, underwater housing, and dual strobes is a lot of mass to push around.  On dry land its about 25 pounds of equipment.   Underwater it's not so much the weight, but the drag caused by pushing it through the water.  I hold the camera in front of me so I am as efficient  as possible, and so if there is something I want to take a picture of I can do so quickly.   I take a few more pictures and then I look at the battery on the camera.  That's not good, the batter is almost drained.  I guess I shot more pictures on the first dive than I thought. We slowly circle the second wreck and I notice we are descending.
We reach 45 feet below the surface and start to swim toward the third wreck of the dive.
The wreck is interesting, but I've begun to do more mental calculations about my air consumption and I begin to think that getting back to the boat without first surfacing is going to be very close to the limit of my air.  It occurs to me that on this wreck and on the swim back to the dive boat I can stay about 10 feet above everyone else and if I still try to slow down my breathing I may make it without surfacing.  I take a few more pictures before the battery on the camera is dead.
We finish our circle around the second wreck and start swimming toward the third wreck.  I am now about 50 minutes into the dive and we have not reached the third wreck.  We begin kicking toward the third wreck.  I look at my air gauge.  I do some mental calculations and figure out that if I move up the water column from 45 feet to about 30 feet I may be able to stretch my tank of air to stay under about 70 minutes.  I am hoping that will be enough time to circle the third wreck and get to the dive boat.  We keep swimming underwater at about 30 feet and round the third wreck.  At 65 minutes into the dive we start towards the dive boat.  At 70 minutes I can see the anchor of the dive boat.  I'm now at 15 feet from the surface and I can see everyone else is surfacing.  I look at my  air guage and I can see I still have enough air for a full safety stop so I take my time swimming toward to the dive boat and rise to 12 feet from the surface.  For the next 5 minutes I circle the dive boat and then come to the surface with 50 bar of air in my tank.  Wow, that was long dive.  Before I had even gotten back in the dive boat I'm already thinking:  "I need to do that dive again".  

Bruce - Barbados
http://www.flickr.com/photos/bcampbell65/collections/72157625869070930/



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My name is Mario. I live in Baltimore, Maryland

Advanced Test Reactor

My name is Mario. I live in Baltimore, Maryland in the United   States of America. I am a first generation Italian-American, with much of my family (father, siblings, etc.) still living in Napoli.

Most days I wake up at 5 AM. I shower/shave and put on my fire resistant clothing. You see, I work as an electrical engineer in electric power plants of all types. Some days I work in nuclear facilities, other days I work on wind turbines, combustion turbines, steam turbines, solar, etc.. Being around electricity is always a risk, so we have to wear special clothing to protect us in case of an accident.

Once I am done with work, I drive home to a townhome that I share with my brother and my best friend. At this point, I usually enjoy working out. I will either run or ride my mountain bike or go to the gym. 

When I'm not making megawatts, I hang out around Baltimore, D.C., and try to have a good time. Sometimes that means parties or the bar. Things are quite interesting on the east coast.

On a good day, I get to chat with someone from Italy before I go to bed.

Wake up. Rinse. Repeat.

Mario - Baltimore - Maryland - U.S.A.

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I hear the intercom while I’m brushing my teeth in the bathroom

I hear the intercom while I’m brushing my teeth in the bathroom. I run to put the pants, meanwhile in the house enters the aunt of my girlfriend, who has a copy of the keys. My girlfriend is in Puglia with her parents, and I’m into their home in the Fuorigrotta neighbourhood for a week, since they are going to evict from mine. Embarrassed I smile to the aunt, I say something about the plants to watering and I slope off.

Outside there is sun, but around we hear that summer does not last much longer: Naples is a hot city and live in a densely populated neighbourhood does not improve the situation. I take the subway from the bus stop in Piazza Leopardi that it brings me to the central station: Piazza Garibaldi.

Piazza Garibaldi is a microcosm: we can found there the best and worst of the city. There are the business men that take hi-speed trains for reach all place of the country in a few hours and there are homeless people who beg. The stations are the business cards of the city. No like the airports: those are just promotional flyers.

I work at the business center of Naples “Centro Direzionale”, an area of ​​high-rise buildings full of offices designed by a Japanese architect in the ‘80. There are Neapolitan define this business center "our little New York". For me it is a Mini-Gotham-City, with fewer bats and more banks. I arrived late and in the elevator with me there is Angela. I am a programmer in my company we work almost entirely of men, a few women present do not differ much from other males. Angela is one of the few exceptions: they call her Shakira because she's blonde and tanned even in December.I greet she, she nods and asks me if I said something - I have the headphones at high volume! -explained to me as if we were not in a cabin of a lift, but at least one hundred meters away.

Check my plan, on the fifteenth, and go to the workstation. I find that the project for which I work has been halved, guarantee me three days a week, the rest we'll see. Great news!

On the phone I hear a colleague who works with me, but his office is in Milan: she has bad news. In Milan it rains but she will be forced to go to the hairdresser, the day after is invited to a wedding. - wet bride lucky bride - she tells me - the invited will be the losers and that's it.

Look at my watch: it's already time for lunch! I'm going to break with Pasquale and Ivan. Ivan is wearing a bright red T-shirt and jeans deep blue: looks like a Ferrari salesman Shop. Let's go to a cafeteria that sell takeaway in the Centro Direzionale. For me, a carbonara, Ivan take risotto and for Pasquale a boscaiola. Sure, it might seem that programmers make a living like top-manager. But it's a case: the other day we buy some sandwiches and eat them on a bench like decent workman.

We eat close to the Court of Naples, where it were recently held processes on match-fixing, a national case and chaos . We not caring that much. Usually, in the spring, we play football in the huge square in front of the Court. During lunch we comment the curious news that we have read on the online newspapers - The police salaries are too low and then they are forced to do double work, are also the waiters, and are paid cash in hand! Pasquale shows us the gift that a friend brought to him from vacation in Southern Italy: a pair of tits made by hard rubber. - He said they are the most beautiful thing he has seen. Of course, if Angela came to lunch with us we'd totally different speeches, trying to look serious and mature people.

We go back to work and I spend the rest of the day to contact the Indian programmers with whom I share my duties. In practice, my office is in Naples, but working with people of Milan, in northern Italy, and Bangalore in India. Globalization means working with people who, at best,you know the voices and a few times the faces, and only rarely know them in full. About six o'clock in the afternoon my inner bell plays. Turn off the computer and I go to the station with the sun that still high in a blue sky as it can be only in the south: in the south there are very few industries, so the air is less polluted. And this is why unemployment is higher than in the North. Into the Centro Direzionale, I see three children playing football under the Vitruvian Man monument, a statue which reproduces a drawing by Leonardo da Vinci. A white baby, one black and another one yellow that passing a red ball. Here is a globalization that makes me more sympathy. Return to the Garibaldi station and since I’m there I buzz down to Feltrinelli, a store of one of the largest libraries in Italy. I just finished a book of Pasolini and check if there is someone else on the shelves, then step into the ward CD: I could finally try to listen to a CD of Georgia, an Italian singer with a incredibly beautiful and powerful voice, but in the meantime with eyes I try to check if there is any remastering of Pink Floyd.

At the end I take the subway to Fuorigrotta. I find guys with backpack and swimsuit returning from the sea: the idea of envy them temp me, then I say - I have thirty years and I have a job, at least I’m not in deep water. To Mergellina’s stop I look through the window: clouds in the sky, and airplanes. I hope my girl back home soon. I hope that her aunt is gone before my return.

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Sento il citofono mentre sono in bagno a lavare i denti. Corro a mettere i pantaloni quando in casa entra la zia della mia ragazza, che ha una copia delle chiavi. La mia ragazza è in Puglia dai suoi genitori e io mi appoggio a casa loro nel quartiere di Fuorigrotta per una settimana, visto che dalla mia stanno per sfrattarmi. Sorrido imbarazzato alla zia, le dico qualcosa a proposito delle piante da innaffiare e me la filo. 

Fuori c’è sole ma in giro si sente dire che l’estate non durerà ancora molto: Napoli è una città bollente e vivere in un quartiere densamente abitato non migliora le cose. Prendo la metropolitana che dalla fermata di Piazza Leopardi mi porta alla stazione centrale: Piazza Garibaldi. 

Piazza Garibaldi è un microcosmo: ci trovi il meglio e il peggio della città. Ci sono i professionisti che prendono i treni ad alta velocità per raggiungere qualsiasi parte del Paese in poche ore e ci sono i barboni che chiedono l'elemosina tutto il giorno e che in stazione ci restano a dormire durante la notte.

 Lavoro al Centro Direzionale di Napoli, un’area di grattacieli zeppa di uffici progettata da un architetto giapponese negli Anni Ottanta. Ci sono dei napoletani che definiscono il Centro Direzionale “la nostra piccola New York”. Per me è una Mini-Gotham-City, con meno pipistrelli e più banche. Arrivo in ritardo e in ascensore con me c’è Angela. Io sono un programmatore e nella mia azienda ci lavorano quasi totalmente degli uomini; le poche donne presenti non si discostano di molto degli altri maschi. Angela è una delle poche eccezioni: la chiamano Shakira perché è bionda ed è abbronzata anche a dicembre. La saluto, lei mi fa un cenno e mi chiede se le ho detto qualcosa – Ho le cuffiette ad alto volume! mi spiega come se non fossimo in una cabina d’ascensore ma ad almeno cento metri di distanza. 

Arrivo al mio piano, il quindicesimo, e vado in postazione. Scopro che il progetto per il quale lavoro è stato dimezzato: mi garantiscono tre giorni a settimana, il resto si vedrà. Ottima notizia! 

Al telefono sento una collega che lavora con me, ma il suo ufficio è a Milano: anche lei ha una brutta notizia. A Milano piove a dirotto ma lei dovrà per forza andare dal parrucchiere: il giorno dopo è invitata a un matrimonio. – Sposa bagnata sposa fortunata – mi dice lei – saranno gli invitati a essere degli sfigati e basta. 

Guardo l’orologio: è già l’ora di pranzo! Vado in pausa con Pasquale e Ivan. Ivan indossa una maglietta rosso fuoco e dei jeans azzurrissimi: sembra un commesso del Ferrari Shop. Andiamo in una delle tavole calde che vendono primi piatti da asporto nel Centro Direzionale. Per me una carbonara, per Ivan del risotto in bianco e per Pasquale una boscaiola. Certo, potrebbe sembrare che i programmatori fanno una vita da top-manager. Però è un caso: gli altri giorni compriamo dei panini e li mangiamo su una panchina come dei dignitosi operai. 

Mangiamo davanti al Tribunale di Napoli, dove ultimamente si sono tenuti i processi sul calcio-scommesse, un caso e un caos nazionale. Noi non ci badiamo più di tanto. Di solito, a primavera, ci giochiamo a pallone, nell’enorme spiazzo davanti al Tribunale. Durante il pranzo commentiamo le notizie curiose lette sui quotidiani online – Le forze dell’ordine hanno stipendi troppo bassi e allora sono costrette a fare il doppio lavoro; fanno anche i camerieri, e vengono pagati in nero! Pasquale ci mostra il souvenir che gli ha portato un suo amico dalle vacanze in Sud Italia: un paio di tette di gomma dura. – Ha detto che sono la cosa più bella che ha visto. Naturalmente se Angela venisse a pranzo con noi faremmo discorsi totalmente diversi, cercando di apparire delle persone serie e mature. Torniamo al lavoro e passo il resto della giornata a contattare dei programmatori indiani con i quali condivido i miei doveri. In pratica: il mio ufficio è a Napoli ma lavoro con persone di Milano, nel Nord Italia, e di Bangalore, in India. La globalizzazione significa lavorare con persone di cui, quando va bene, conosci le voci e qualche volte le facce; solo raramente le conosci per intero. 

Verso le sei del pomeriggio suona la mia campanella interiore. Spengo il computer e mi avvio alla stazione con il sole che è ancora alto in un cielo azzurro come può esserlo solo nel meridione: nel sud ci sono pochissime industrie, per questo l’aria è meno inquinata. E per questo la disoccupazione è più elevata rispetto al Nord. Nel centro direzionale vedo tre bambini che giocano a calcio sotto il monumento dell’Uomo di Vitruvio, una statua che riproduce il disegno di Leonardo da Vinci. Un bambino bianco, uno nero e uno giallo che si passano una palla rossa. Ecco una globalizzazione che mi fa più simpatia. Ritorno nella stazione Garibaldi e già che ci sono passo dalla Feltrinelli, un punto vendita di una delle maggiori librerie megastore d’Italia. Ho da poco finito un libro di Pasolini e controllo se sugli scaffali ce n’è qualcun altro, poi passo nel reparto cd: potrei finalmente provare ad ascoltare un cd di Giorgia, una cantante italiana con una voce incredibilmente bella e potente, ma intanto con gli occhi cerco se c’è qualche rimasterizzazione dei Pink Floyd. 

Alla fine riprendo la metropolitana per Fuorigrotta. Ci trovo dei ragazzi con zaino e costume da bagno che tornano dal mare: mi tenta l’idea di invidiarli, poi mi dico – Ho trenta anni e ho un posto di lavoro: almeno non ho l’acqua alla gola. Alla fermata di Mergellina guardo dal finestrino: nuvole, in cielo, ed aerei. Spero che la mia ragazza torni presto a casa. Spero che sua zia se ne sia andata prima del mio rientro.

Coda - Naples - Italy



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I guess it falls to us to write the first stories of everyday life

I guess it falls to us to write the first stories of everyday life. Here's mine:

It was Wednesday of the first week after the holidays, as always at lunch time we meet to eat together, this time we were on the stairs of one of the buildings of the business district of Naples.

While I ate my rice salad, comes back to me the idea that my colleague Antonio had about to want to create something to know how to spend the day people from other countries. At first we think to create an App for smartphones but then we realize that it would be all too complicated, so we think to the creation of a blog and a Facebook page to publicize it.

The lunch break is over and we return to our work of programmers in the SAP office of one of the small skyscrapers of the business district.

At 4 pm there is the usual coffee break at the bar Mascalzone, where our friend Fabio , the waiter, told us that he broke his foot on the second day of vacation and then had the cast on the leg. At a table outside the bar, while we drank our coffee we continue to talk about the idea of the blog, I propose as the creator of the blog and facebook page and Coda as a writer of the contents. Even the coffee break ends and we return to work until 18 and then go home.

There was not much traffic on the highway as it was late August and many people were still on holiday. When I got home I turn on the PC and created the blog and the facebook page of our oneworldmanylifes. Contact Coda and say that now there is to find people who want to write and tell to the world how is own normal day.

This is the simple story of the B-day of this blog.

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Immagino che tocchi a noi scrivere le prime storie di vita quotidiana. Ecco la mia:

Era mercoledì della prima settimana di lavoro dopo le ferie, come sempre ad ora di pranzo ci incontriamo per mangiare insieme, questa volta eravamo su delle scale di uno dei palazzi del centro direzionale di Napoli. Mentre io mangiavo la mia insalata di riso, mi ritorna in mente l'idea che ebbe il mio collega Antonio riguardo al voler creare qualcosa per sapere come trascorrono la giornata le persone di altri paesi. All'inizio ci viene in mente di creare un'App per smartphone ma poi capiamo che sarebbe tutto troppo complicato, quindi pensiamo alla creazione di un blog ed una pagina facebook per pubblicizzarlo. La pausa pranzo finisce e si ritorna al nostro lavoro di programmatori SAP negli ufficio di uno dei piccoli grattacieli del centro direzionale. Alle 4 del pomeriggio c'è la consueta pausa caffè al bar Mascalzone, dove il nostro amico cameriere Fabio ci racconta di essersi rotto un piede il secondo giorno di vacanza e quindi aveva il gesso su tutta la gamba. Al tavolino fuori al bar, mentre bevevamo il nostro caffè riprendiamo a parlare dell'idea del blog, io mi propongo come creatore del blog e della pagina facebook e Coda come scrittore dei contenuti. Anche la pausa caffè finisce e si ritorna al lavoro fino alle 18 per poi tornare a casa. Sull'autostrada non c'era ancora molto traffico dato che era fine agosto e molte persone erano ancora in ferie. Arrivato a casa accendo Il pc e creo il blog e la pagina facebook del nostro oneworldmanylifes. Contatto Coda e gli dico che adesso c'è da trovare gente che ha voglia di scrivere e far sapere al mondo com'è una sua normale giornata.

Questa è la semplice storia della giornata in cui è nato questo blog.

Pasquale - Naples - Italy


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Stories from the World

Day 0. One World Many Lifes B-Day.

We are Pasquale and Coda from Italy and we want collect daily stories from any place of this world. Would be funny.

We aren't looking for a super special story, all of us live everyday the own "simple" life, if you want you can share it with the world, for understand that maybe what you do in a your normal day it can be special for someone that live in a place far from you.

It will be interesting to read every day a different story from a different people that live in a different place of this world.

Join us if you want, just write what has happened to you today, in english and in your mother tongue also add an image from your phone, your camera or anything else and send all to oneworldmanylifes@gmail.com.

World is funny!

I'm Coda      : http://www.facebook.com/coda.koda.1

I'm Pasquale: http://www.facebook.com/pasquale.ascione.9

This is the Facebook page for One World many Lifes:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/One-World-Many-Lifes/511422235540268