Hauntings and Musings this side of the pond

Rumour suggests that the converted-monastery hostel i'm staying at is haunted and while i have yet to encounter smoky white figures with clanking chains, there is a constant background symphony of weird noises and disembodied voices. whether this is because the walls are paper thin or my imagination is over active i don't know.
there are truly two brands of Americans. the nice ones and the Other ones. every nice tourist i have met on this trip has been American. today while waiting in line (which, for anyone who knows of the Italian service industry, you do a LOT) it was the Americans who were friendly and helpful, full of advice and travel anecdotes and ready to accomodate people. in a space where most canadians would easily get hot, brusque and irritated (and most french, germans, chinese and every other major tourist group for that matter) the Americans make friends. who knew?
not to speak ill if the Germans, but they make for the rowdiest, loudest and sometimes just plain rude tourists. i think it's a combination of uber-efficient homeland policy and sterile self-image.