I can't believe that I've been here so long already. As I am now in the final full week of being in Rome, I am starting to realize just how much I not only will miss this place, but also how much I miss everyone back home. It's a very strange feeling of longing for two different things that in every sense go against each other. I love the friends I have made here. Becoming so close to so many people this quickly has given me not only comfort as I have been away from my home, but also a renewed faith in humanity. It is sometimes tempting to listen to the people who think and see only the darker parts of the world and the societies within it, but then there are these wonderful rays of light that peak out from the clouds and you suddenly realize that life is so full of surprises that settling even for a moment is just foolish.
This week I am planning on some pretty awesome travel. Tuesday I head out again for Naples to take a lesson with one of the lead tenors at the Teatro di San Carlo which of course should be amazing even if I don't sing my best. Two days later I train my way all the way over to the opposite end of the country for the lovely water world of Venice. Two days spent soaking up possibly the most romantic city in Italy. It should certainly be nothing less than fantastic. Then instead of coming straight back to Rome before I get on a plane like I had intended, I think I will be taking a slight detour to Florence to get just a little taste of Tuscany and find out for myself why everyone says I should go there. Then it's back to Rome for some last minute time with my amazing group of newly bonded friends and amazing, all too soon and yet not soon enough, I'm home, two months later, elated, different, matured in ways I didn't realize were possible, and ready for more life.
I think about the coming year with a mixed feeling of apprehension, excitement, and determination. Some how I have come to my final year of college. Where the last three years went, I will perhaps never know. But in any case, here I am, getting ready for the final turn in the slide, the last lap around the ring, the turning point before the biggest jump I have taken. It will be a year of some of my hardest classes, the biggest auditions of my life, new opportunities, new exploration, stumbles, falls, triumphs, and in the end a new me. Then the next chapter starts and before I know it I will be wondering where this year went. Whatever it comes to in the end, I will take in stride and keep in mind that it is simply where I am meant to be at that moment, where ever that is.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
When in Rome...
...act like a Roman.
In one day I found out quite a few things:
- You really can fight your way out of passing out when you realize that if you did indeed pass out, you would fall into an ant hole. Not ok.
- Breaking your headphones upon taking the first step of your run is maybe the worst thing since... I don't even know.
- It is important to keep in mind that the Euro is not equal to the dollar and what may seem like a bargain is simply your mind playing tricks on you and forgetting that you're not looking at a price system based on the US dollar.
- If it's not food related, EVERYTHING is more expensive here.
- You can get back serious about preparing for a toga party.
- Watching Asians fight in the Metro with very thick accents but speaking in English is really quite hilarious.
- Getting winked at by an old man then not 5 minutes later getting winked at by an old woman is not and never will be ok.
- Sometimes sitting on the subway and just watching people is the best entertainment going.
- Screw Edward Cullen, Jamie Fraser is the greatest thing since sliced bread.
- You really can find disgusting wine in Italy, and yet still find yourself drinking it.
- Latin is extremely hard to read when in a very strange font, kneeling in front of people who can actually speak Latin who are yelling at you every time you mess up, having no light but two torches and really having to pee.
- The more you drink the less toga you want to wear.
- Wine really stings when it's being poured into your eye.
- It's all fun and games until you make really drunk people who are already tripping over their togas run through an obstacle course... then it's the best thing ever.
- Pistachios really hurt your teeth when you try to eat them without taking off the shell.
- Waking up with extremely painful and very dark bruises that you don't remember having the night before are really quite annoying.
- Being the only one who was sober the night before makes looking at the other people in the morning HILARIOUS.
- A whole pot of espresso, milk, biscotti, listening to the rain and having an internal debate over whether or not Lady Gaga could wear any less clothing and not cause a scandal in the Middle East makes for a lovely breakfast.
- Pouring hot espresso over gelato is the best idea maybe ever.
In one day I found out quite a few things:
- You really can fight your way out of passing out when you realize that if you did indeed pass out, you would fall into an ant hole. Not ok.
- Breaking your headphones upon taking the first step of your run is maybe the worst thing since... I don't even know.
- It is important to keep in mind that the Euro is not equal to the dollar and what may seem like a bargain is simply your mind playing tricks on you and forgetting that you're not looking at a price system based on the US dollar.
- If it's not food related, EVERYTHING is more expensive here.
- You can get back serious about preparing for a toga party.
- Watching Asians fight in the Metro with very thick accents but speaking in English is really quite hilarious.
- Getting winked at by an old man then not 5 minutes later getting winked at by an old woman is not and never will be ok.
- Sometimes sitting on the subway and just watching people is the best entertainment going.
- Screw Edward Cullen, Jamie Fraser is the greatest thing since sliced bread.
- You really can find disgusting wine in Italy, and yet still find yourself drinking it.
- Latin is extremely hard to read when in a very strange font, kneeling in front of people who can actually speak Latin who are yelling at you every time you mess up, having no light but two torches and really having to pee.
- The more you drink the less toga you want to wear.
- Wine really stings when it's being poured into your eye.
- It's all fun and games until you make really drunk people who are already tripping over their togas run through an obstacle course... then it's the best thing ever.
- Pistachios really hurt your teeth when you try to eat them without taking off the shell.
- Waking up with extremely painful and very dark bruises that you don't remember having the night before are really quite annoying.
- Being the only one who was sober the night before makes looking at the other people in the morning HILARIOUS.
- A whole pot of espresso, milk, biscotti, listening to the rain and having an internal debate over whether or not Lady Gaga could wear any less clothing and not cause a scandal in the Middle East makes for a lovely breakfast.
- Pouring hot espresso over gelato is the best idea maybe ever.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Realization
It's kind of late and I have class early in the morning which prevents me from writing an actual post, but I will you leave you with a realization that I came to today whilst walking around the fabulous and very daunting streets of Piazza Spagna: If I ever want to even think about indulging in the shoe fetish that I have come to realize that I have while drooling over display windows with labels such as Prada (shoes to die for), Diesel (delicious pockets of leather), and D&G (*shiver of ecstasy*), I have picked the wrong major. Ah well, gotta do what you love, eh?
That is all.
That is all.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Portal to another world
Italy I have come to find, is a very hot place. Yes, we would all like to think of nothing ill about Italy, save perhaps unsavory thoughts of Signore Berlusconi or perhaps a stray thought of how they only won the last World Cup because the Mafia made it happen... but alas, aside from abundant crime and perhaps "false governments" that are mere toys and facades of the underground (or not so underground) crime organizations that lie beneath the surface, there is one thing that puts a slight blemish on the bronze skinned, well lubricated through years of olive oil usage and poor liver function due to the more mature form of the common fruit known as the grape. Heat. Dear God! I have to wonder at how JP II lasted so long here even with his Popemobile. Shouldn't he have suffered from heat stroke at least as many times as Cheney had heart attacks?
Ok, ok I'll stop complaining at least long enough to take a sip of wine, a bite of freshly baked bread dipped in olive oil and... ok go ahead and twist my arm, a nice scoop of gelato... or 3. Despite the heat, it's quite lovely here in the hometown of one of the world's former great empires. Friday made for an incredibly uneventful day as I spent most of it helping my friend prepare for the last leg of their English Certificate No. 1 exam. The spoken portion was last weekend and this Saturday was the written and reading comprehension section which lasts a mere six hours. Poor little buggers... several incomprehensible reading passages, a bucket load of broken rules, and plenty of misplaced prepositions later, the exam proved to be much harder than they had bargained for. Ah well...
Instead of busting my head over the table and wanting to thrust my No. 2 Taiconderoga pencil through my eye, I spent the majority of Saturday morning and early afternoon with two of my Villa buddies and three of the UD students from the group that comes to Villa that I had met at my surprise birthday party. Amazingly enough, they are actually very nice guys and even more amazingly, I had no qualms with spending time with them. What was even better is that regularly, I got to play interpreter... and I actually was pretty good at it. I did not realize until now just how much I have improved. WOO!!
We started the day by going to a very famous outdoor market where the vendors only speak Roman dialect (so having Gabriele there who not only is a Roman but also frequents this market was quite helpful) and the name of the game is bargaining. They are serious about it to. So seriously in fact that several times I had to drag one of my American comrades along with me as he was being physically pulled by someone trying to seduce him into their "store." I also came to realize that with all the merchandise in this vast market, you were never really sure what was real or fake, legit or stolen. It was a trip. I decided to buy an Armani zip up hoodie (which I am quite sure is fake) just because fighting with the lady over the price was one of the most hilarious and altogether frightening experiences of my life. She did not even come to my shoulder and even so, I think she probably could have taken me out... or had one of her "friends" do it for her.
After grabbing some lunch, gelato and then walking through Piazza del Popolo and seeing the lovely festival being thrown by none other than everyone's #1 guy, Berlusconi and even getting free merchandise from one of my brother's favorite people, we headed for home sun burnt, dehydrated, and happy. A little later after trying to recoup my water levels, I headed back out to the city with Antonio and Paolo who had more of the city to show me which of course comes with boat loads of history. Being that it was late in the day on a Saturday, the center of the city was packed and trying to get around proved to be quite difficult. It was obviously annoying my two companions, but when you're not the one driving, watching the faces of other drivers is quite entertaining. Watching people fight and swear at each other is far more exciting in Italian... and slightly scarier as you aren't quite sure they will contain their fight to just the two of them.
As we got closer to the center Antonio suddenly remembered that today was the National Gay Pride Parade which was being held in Rome (which apparently had caused quite a stir... gee, I wonder why), but he did not even have to say it as it was already quite apparent. More than once I questioned whether the person walking next to me was of a male or female persuasion and I suddenly became even more aware of the very tight t-shirt I was wearing... oh goodness. We ended up going to parts of the city that I had not yet visited. The best was when we technically left Italy altogether and went to the state of Malta (did you know that the Vatican is not the only place in Rome that can be called its own state?). In this tiny little... um... state? County? Which is all enclosed behind old stone walls which hold beautiful gardens and cobblestone streets, there is a huge set of double steal doors. They do not look like much but on the left door there is a small hole no bigger than the diameter of a quarter. When you look through this hall you find yourself looking down a very long corridor of vines which are in full bloom. If you look a little longer and let your eyes adjust (the sun had set and was now casting a faint glow over the city) you realize that at the end of the vine covered alley there is a shape. The dome of Saint Peter's, across the river. A portal to another world. I could not decide if it was real as the sight of it was just to amazing, even when it could only be viewed through this frustratingly tiny hole. We spent the rest of the night walking the city and talking about art. It just keeps getting better.
Ok, ok I'll stop complaining at least long enough to take a sip of wine, a bite of freshly baked bread dipped in olive oil and... ok go ahead and twist my arm, a nice scoop of gelato... or 3. Despite the heat, it's quite lovely here in the hometown of one of the world's former great empires. Friday made for an incredibly uneventful day as I spent most of it helping my friend prepare for the last leg of their English Certificate No. 1 exam. The spoken portion was last weekend and this Saturday was the written and reading comprehension section which lasts a mere six hours. Poor little buggers... several incomprehensible reading passages, a bucket load of broken rules, and plenty of misplaced prepositions later, the exam proved to be much harder than they had bargained for. Ah well...
Instead of busting my head over the table and wanting to thrust my No. 2 Taiconderoga pencil through my eye, I spent the majority of Saturday morning and early afternoon with two of my Villa buddies and three of the UD students from the group that comes to Villa that I had met at my surprise birthday party. Amazingly enough, they are actually very nice guys and even more amazingly, I had no qualms with spending time with them. What was even better is that regularly, I got to play interpreter... and I actually was pretty good at it. I did not realize until now just how much I have improved. WOO!!
We started the day by going to a very famous outdoor market where the vendors only speak Roman dialect (so having Gabriele there who not only is a Roman but also frequents this market was quite helpful) and the name of the game is bargaining. They are serious about it to. So seriously in fact that several times I had to drag one of my American comrades along with me as he was being physically pulled by someone trying to seduce him into their "store." I also came to realize that with all the merchandise in this vast market, you were never really sure what was real or fake, legit or stolen. It was a trip. I decided to buy an Armani zip up hoodie (which I am quite sure is fake) just because fighting with the lady over the price was one of the most hilarious and altogether frightening experiences of my life. She did not even come to my shoulder and even so, I think she probably could have taken me out... or had one of her "friends" do it for her.
After grabbing some lunch, gelato and then walking through Piazza del Popolo and seeing the lovely festival being thrown by none other than everyone's #1 guy, Berlusconi and even getting free merchandise from one of my brother's favorite people, we headed for home sun burnt, dehydrated, and happy. A little later after trying to recoup my water levels, I headed back out to the city with Antonio and Paolo who had more of the city to show me which of course comes with boat loads of history. Being that it was late in the day on a Saturday, the center of the city was packed and trying to get around proved to be quite difficult. It was obviously annoying my two companions, but when you're not the one driving, watching the faces of other drivers is quite entertaining. Watching people fight and swear at each other is far more exciting in Italian... and slightly scarier as you aren't quite sure they will contain their fight to just the two of them.
As we got closer to the center Antonio suddenly remembered that today was the National Gay Pride Parade which was being held in Rome (which apparently had caused quite a stir... gee, I wonder why), but he did not even have to say it as it was already quite apparent. More than once I questioned whether the person walking next to me was of a male or female persuasion and I suddenly became even more aware of the very tight t-shirt I was wearing... oh goodness. We ended up going to parts of the city that I had not yet visited. The best was when we technically left Italy altogether and went to the state of Malta (did you know that the Vatican is not the only place in Rome that can be called its own state?). In this tiny little... um... state? County? Which is all enclosed behind old stone walls which hold beautiful gardens and cobblestone streets, there is a huge set of double steal doors. They do not look like much but on the left door there is a small hole no bigger than the diameter of a quarter. When you look through this hall you find yourself looking down a very long corridor of vines which are in full bloom. If you look a little longer and let your eyes adjust (the sun had set and was now casting a faint glow over the city) you realize that at the end of the vine covered alley there is a shape. The dome of Saint Peter's, across the river. A portal to another world. I could not decide if it was real as the sight of it was just to amazing, even when it could only be viewed through this frustratingly tiny hole. We spent the rest of the night walking the city and talking about art. It just keeps getting better.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Realizations
In coming off one of the greatest weekends I have spent in Italy, it has been a week of many realizations and more thought than one person should normally have in the course of just four days.
Monday rolled around and in no sort of surprise did I find that even still, after many hours since my last meal, I still was not hungry. I barely even had an appetite for lunch. It was mostly spent recouping from the weekend, reading, and updating my blog and journal. For some reason, although I went to bed completely exhausted, I woke up Tuesday morning at 5 and rather than lay in bed and fight for sleep, I decided to go for a run in the woods. I beat the sun in rising and stepped out from the door and noticed to my great surprise that it was chilly and there was a mist over everything. It was not what you might call fog, but rather a simple veil over the ground as if to remind me that is was still morning. I picked up speed and soon I was darting between trees waiting for the sun to kiss my skin and warm me somewhat.
I reached the tree line and ran along side the field that lies beyond the wood and looked out at the expanse of Rome and the hills behind it. The sun was beginning to creep slowly over the lump of bluish gray earth in the distance, casting a golden glow on the dome of St. Peter's. Finally, to my relief, sunlight began spilling over the ground climbing up my body and bathing me in light and warmth and for a moment, it was as if everything stood still.
I had woken up with Rome. I watched the sun stretch its golden fingers over the hills transforming their colors, turning the long and dry grass in the field a resilient gold and finally illuminating the city to start the day. I stopped running. Rather than rush around in this glory, I simply walked in the grass letting the dew left over from the cool evening brush against my ankles. It made for a good day and I found myself smiling for the rest of the day.
Wednesday evening I finally (much to my dismay) finished "The Mists of Avalon." As I closed the back cover I, for the first time on my journey, sobbed. I sobbed really hard as if to cry all the tears that I had been wanting to cry from missing my family, the incredible surprise of my birthday, for the incredible beauty of this city and country and of course, because the story was over. As I finally dried my tears, I was amazed at that I felt better. From what? I have no idea; but it felt good.
I love Rome.
Monday rolled around and in no sort of surprise did I find that even still, after many hours since my last meal, I still was not hungry. I barely even had an appetite for lunch. It was mostly spent recouping from the weekend, reading, and updating my blog and journal. For some reason, although I went to bed completely exhausted, I woke up Tuesday morning at 5 and rather than lay in bed and fight for sleep, I decided to go for a run in the woods. I beat the sun in rising and stepped out from the door and noticed to my great surprise that it was chilly and there was a mist over everything. It was not what you might call fog, but rather a simple veil over the ground as if to remind me that is was still morning. I picked up speed and soon I was darting between trees waiting for the sun to kiss my skin and warm me somewhat.
I reached the tree line and ran along side the field that lies beyond the wood and looked out at the expanse of Rome and the hills behind it. The sun was beginning to creep slowly over the lump of bluish gray earth in the distance, casting a golden glow on the dome of St. Peter's. Finally, to my relief, sunlight began spilling over the ground climbing up my body and bathing me in light and warmth and for a moment, it was as if everything stood still.
I had woken up with Rome. I watched the sun stretch its golden fingers over the hills transforming their colors, turning the long and dry grass in the field a resilient gold and finally illuminating the city to start the day. I stopped running. Rather than rush around in this glory, I simply walked in the grass letting the dew left over from the cool evening brush against my ankles. It made for a good day and I found myself smiling for the rest of the day.
Wednesday evening I finally (much to my dismay) finished "The Mists of Avalon." As I closed the back cover I, for the first time on my journey, sobbed. I sobbed really hard as if to cry all the tears that I had been wanting to cry from missing my family, the incredible surprise of my birthday, for the incredible beauty of this city and country and of course, because the story was over. As I finally dried my tears, I was amazed at that I felt better. From what? I have no idea; but it felt good.
I love Rome.
Monday, June 8, 2009
A Napolitan Weekend
I swear there is no other country on earth that has the ability to continue to become more and more beautiful each time I open my eyes like Italy does. Each time I explore some new part, even those not so far outside of Rome, I am just amazed at how blissfully beautiful this country is. This weekend was the election for the European Congress so most everyone at Villa went back to their homes to be able to vote. I was invited to stay at my friend Gennaro’s house just outside of Napoli with his family along with another Villa student Matteo. Matteo and I left early Friday morning and met up with Gennaro in Napoli. Knowing that I am a singer, Gennaro somehow found out that his father is friends with a tenor who sings at the Teatro di San Carlo which is probably the second most famous opera house in Italy, right behind La Scala. So what did I do first in Napoli? Oh yes, that’s right, toured the entire opera house with one of their leading tenors and then when he found out that I’m a singer, told me that he would be happy to give me a lesson sometime while I’m still in Italy. WHAT?! Yes, we are trying to figure out another time for me to go to Napoli before I head for home. It was a very good start to what was to become an amazing weekend.
After the opera house we didn’t stay in Napoli long and headed for Gennaro’s house. Before getting on the train however Gennaro of course wanted me to try some of the famous Napolitan pizza. Yeah, that whole argument in the States about whether New York pizza is better than Chicago style and vice versa… yeah, that can just stop because neither come even sort of close to this. First off this pizza had to be at least 13-15 inches in diameter and the lady just folded it up into a pocket and handed it to me in a piece of wax paper. It was also just one Euro. I was stuffed and had spend probably 5 times less what I would have spent even on a street vendor in NYC… and of course it was far far better.
When we reached casa di Gennaro, his mother of course did not know we had just had pizza and had prepared a lovely meal of homemade gnocchi for us. Surely I could not eat another bite? But to be polite and I tried a gnocchi. Suddenly I was wondering who had stolen my gnocchi as I was staring down at a now empty plate. Oh wait, no one stole my gnocchi… I hade eaten it. Then ate buffala mozzarella… and prosciutto… and salad… and fruit. This is when I remembered Antonio (who is also Napolitan) telling me that Napolitan mothers are notorious for worrying that their children don’t eat enough. Well, no worries here because I was seriously on the verge of exploding.
We decided to go for a drive up Mount Vesuvius to see the mountain face and to get a better look at the sea (which could easily be seen just from Gennaro’s balcony as it was less than 500 yards away). The sun was high in the sky but since we were next to the sea a salty breeze was constantly keeping the worst of the heat off us. The mountain was beautiful and as we climbed higher and higher the sea continued to become more vast and eventually we could see the entire Napolitan gulf from Napoli to Sorrento. After the drive we went to see the excavation sight of the city that was buried (along with Pompei and all the other surrounding cities) by lava in the last volcanic eruption. It was really kind of amazing. The city was in a huge pit and I wondered why it was surrounded by all this land and actually below the modern city. Then I realized that the modern city is built on top of nearly 200 yards of lava. The old city used to sit right against the sea. Now there is nearly another 300 yards from the city to the sea because the lava piled so high that it buried the city and stretched out that much further into the tide. Really incredible and quite frightening at the same time as the huge mountain towered above us the whole time.
After walking around the city and then the beach for a while and taking some amazing pictures of ruins and sunsets, we went back to the house… for more food. No. There could not possibly be more room in my body for more food. But since we were guests, Gennaro had requested that his mother made the specialty dish of Napoli which is spaghetti with clams. Of course they were clams that she had bought that day from fisherman who had caught them that morning with tomatoes that had been picked probably in the last couple days if not that day and then after the pasta there was octopus salad with boiled potatoes (sounds gross but was quite amazing and didn’t taste at all what I had expected) and then there was an entire pan of steamed mussels (by far the best I’ve ever had) and then gelato and of course every course was served with tons of wine. I thought I would die and never be able to digest again. I went to bed stuffed like a calzone and fought hard to keep it all down.
The next day we headed back to Napoli and met up with Antonio. Our first stop was at the top of the city (Napoli is built on a hill) to a very old palace and monastery that over looks the entire gulf. It was of course, like every other palace and museum in Italy, chocked full of art and history. It was beautifully decorated and painted with amazing frescos that seemed to cover every inch of every wall and ceiling. We went back into the city and went to the Museum of Archeology which had many exhibits of specimens that had been collected from excavation sights all around Vesuvius from the explosion. There was also a room that was entirely dedicated to the penis. Yes the male sexual organ in all kinds of fashion from statues, to painting, to hanging ornaments, to furniture, sculptures, demons made out of penises, people made out of penises, in other words “Long live the penis.” In the top floor there was a huge ballroom that was easily as big as if not bigger than a football field. Of course the entire ceiling was one huge fresco. If there is one thing in Italy that is everywhere and yet I never seem to tire of it, it is the ceilings of these old castles and villas and museums that are covered in paintings that are completely life like and yet are bigger than anything we have in America. I just can’t imagine the time it must take and the detail that goes into such work. Really amazing.
After walking until our feet hurt, we got some more Napolitan pizza (except this time I watched them pull it out of the oven) and ate it under the statue of Dante. There is a street that runs along Piazza Dante (yes named for Dante himself) that is nothing but book stores. Matteo and Antonio being art history majors of course went rampant and went on a book buying spree. After walking around for a while we decided it was time for me to try the coffee of Napoli… along with a sfogliatella which is a famous Napolitan pastry that is nothing but flaky crust and sweetened ricotta in the middle. Of course it was sinful and delicious.
We departed from Antonio and went back to Gennaro’s for a small break and then headed out again for Sorrento. We got there just in time to watch the sun set over the gulf and I am positive that I have never seen the sun in a more beautiful form. Toward the end the globe honestly looked like it was melting into the rim of the ocean, pouring itself into the pinkish blue of the water and turned the surrounding islands an almost purplish blue. The whisps of clouds that still hung in the sky were a kaleidoscope of color ranging from peach to blue to pink to purple. It was surely the most amazing sky I have ever seen. For those of you who do not know, Sorrento is the birthplace of the famous Italian liqueur, limoncello. So what did we go in search of? Limoncello! There is a street that is full of basically nothing but shops selling different products made with Sorrento lemons. Soap, lotion, water, lemons alone, and of course tons of limoncello. We stopped in one store and took some samples (So. Good.) then went in search of dinner. We stopped in a trattoria called The Garden which sat on a porch over looking the city. I had pasta with clams and mussels in some kind of sumptuous sauce that made my lips tingle as it had so much garlic in it. The wine of course was fantastic and we shared a bottle between the 3 of us. We walked back through the city, bought some limoncello and then made it back to the station just in time to catch the last train back to Gennaro’s. It was a fantastic night.
Sunday morning we woke early and Gennaro took Matteo and I to the station to go to Antonio’s city. We met up with Antonio and then went in search of more art. Antonio’s last name is Jomelli which is kin to the famous composer Jomelli who lived in Jomelli square in Averso… where Antonio grew up. Apparently Italians really are serious about sticking to their roots. While looking inside a church was built in the 12th century, we realized that mass was starting and decided to stay. Matteo and I didn’t understand a single word as it was said entirely in Naplitan dialect which apparently to other Italians is an entirely different language. After mass we went to Antonio’s home where his mother, thrilled to have company for the first time in a while as neither of her sons live at home anymore, made us the largest meal I have ever had in my life. It started with small pieces of fried bread, bruschetta, wine, more bread, the famous spaghetti and clams, followed by more clams by themselves, then mussels steamed in garlic and white wine, then steak, then salad, then fruit then more famous Napolitan pastries called baba. I wanted to cry my stomach was so full. I didn’t eat anything for the rest of the day and it was only 3.
We arrived back in Rome around 9 and after checking my email and reading for a bit I fell into a completely card induced slumber. What an amazing weekend.
After the opera house we didn’t stay in Napoli long and headed for Gennaro’s house. Before getting on the train however Gennaro of course wanted me to try some of the famous Napolitan pizza. Yeah, that whole argument in the States about whether New York pizza is better than Chicago style and vice versa… yeah, that can just stop because neither come even sort of close to this. First off this pizza had to be at least 13-15 inches in diameter and the lady just folded it up into a pocket and handed it to me in a piece of wax paper. It was also just one Euro. I was stuffed and had spend probably 5 times less what I would have spent even on a street vendor in NYC… and of course it was far far better.
When we reached casa di Gennaro, his mother of course did not know we had just had pizza and had prepared a lovely meal of homemade gnocchi for us. Surely I could not eat another bite? But to be polite and I tried a gnocchi. Suddenly I was wondering who had stolen my gnocchi as I was staring down at a now empty plate. Oh wait, no one stole my gnocchi… I hade eaten it. Then ate buffala mozzarella… and prosciutto… and salad… and fruit. This is when I remembered Antonio (who is also Napolitan) telling me that Napolitan mothers are notorious for worrying that their children don’t eat enough. Well, no worries here because I was seriously on the verge of exploding.
We decided to go for a drive up Mount Vesuvius to see the mountain face and to get a better look at the sea (which could easily be seen just from Gennaro’s balcony as it was less than 500 yards away). The sun was high in the sky but since we were next to the sea a salty breeze was constantly keeping the worst of the heat off us. The mountain was beautiful and as we climbed higher and higher the sea continued to become more vast and eventually we could see the entire Napolitan gulf from Napoli to Sorrento. After the drive we went to see the excavation sight of the city that was buried (along with Pompei and all the other surrounding cities) by lava in the last volcanic eruption. It was really kind of amazing. The city was in a huge pit and I wondered why it was surrounded by all this land and actually below the modern city. Then I realized that the modern city is built on top of nearly 200 yards of lava. The old city used to sit right against the sea. Now there is nearly another 300 yards from the city to the sea because the lava piled so high that it buried the city and stretched out that much further into the tide. Really incredible and quite frightening at the same time as the huge mountain towered above us the whole time.
After walking around the city and then the beach for a while and taking some amazing pictures of ruins and sunsets, we went back to the house… for more food. No. There could not possibly be more room in my body for more food. But since we were guests, Gennaro had requested that his mother made the specialty dish of Napoli which is spaghetti with clams. Of course they were clams that she had bought that day from fisherman who had caught them that morning with tomatoes that had been picked probably in the last couple days if not that day and then after the pasta there was octopus salad with boiled potatoes (sounds gross but was quite amazing and didn’t taste at all what I had expected) and then there was an entire pan of steamed mussels (by far the best I’ve ever had) and then gelato and of course every course was served with tons of wine. I thought I would die and never be able to digest again. I went to bed stuffed like a calzone and fought hard to keep it all down.
The next day we headed back to Napoli and met up with Antonio. Our first stop was at the top of the city (Napoli is built on a hill) to a very old palace and monastery that over looks the entire gulf. It was of course, like every other palace and museum in Italy, chocked full of art and history. It was beautifully decorated and painted with amazing frescos that seemed to cover every inch of every wall and ceiling. We went back into the city and went to the Museum of Archeology which had many exhibits of specimens that had been collected from excavation sights all around Vesuvius from the explosion. There was also a room that was entirely dedicated to the penis. Yes the male sexual organ in all kinds of fashion from statues, to painting, to hanging ornaments, to furniture, sculptures, demons made out of penises, people made out of penises, in other words “Long live the penis.” In the top floor there was a huge ballroom that was easily as big as if not bigger than a football field. Of course the entire ceiling was one huge fresco. If there is one thing in Italy that is everywhere and yet I never seem to tire of it, it is the ceilings of these old castles and villas and museums that are covered in paintings that are completely life like and yet are bigger than anything we have in America. I just can’t imagine the time it must take and the detail that goes into such work. Really amazing.
After walking until our feet hurt, we got some more Napolitan pizza (except this time I watched them pull it out of the oven) and ate it under the statue of Dante. There is a street that runs along Piazza Dante (yes named for Dante himself) that is nothing but book stores. Matteo and Antonio being art history majors of course went rampant and went on a book buying spree. After walking around for a while we decided it was time for me to try the coffee of Napoli… along with a sfogliatella which is a famous Napolitan pastry that is nothing but flaky crust and sweetened ricotta in the middle. Of course it was sinful and delicious.
We departed from Antonio and went back to Gennaro’s for a small break and then headed out again for Sorrento. We got there just in time to watch the sun set over the gulf and I am positive that I have never seen the sun in a more beautiful form. Toward the end the globe honestly looked like it was melting into the rim of the ocean, pouring itself into the pinkish blue of the water and turned the surrounding islands an almost purplish blue. The whisps of clouds that still hung in the sky were a kaleidoscope of color ranging from peach to blue to pink to purple. It was surely the most amazing sky I have ever seen. For those of you who do not know, Sorrento is the birthplace of the famous Italian liqueur, limoncello. So what did we go in search of? Limoncello! There is a street that is full of basically nothing but shops selling different products made with Sorrento lemons. Soap, lotion, water, lemons alone, and of course tons of limoncello. We stopped in one store and took some samples (So. Good.) then went in search of dinner. We stopped in a trattoria called The Garden which sat on a porch over looking the city. I had pasta with clams and mussels in some kind of sumptuous sauce that made my lips tingle as it had so much garlic in it. The wine of course was fantastic and we shared a bottle between the 3 of us. We walked back through the city, bought some limoncello and then made it back to the station just in time to catch the last train back to Gennaro’s. It was a fantastic night.
Sunday morning we woke early and Gennaro took Matteo and I to the station to go to Antonio’s city. We met up with Antonio and then went in search of more art. Antonio’s last name is Jomelli which is kin to the famous composer Jomelli who lived in Jomelli square in Averso… where Antonio grew up. Apparently Italians really are serious about sticking to their roots. While looking inside a church was built in the 12th century, we realized that mass was starting and decided to stay. Matteo and I didn’t understand a single word as it was said entirely in Naplitan dialect which apparently to other Italians is an entirely different language. After mass we went to Antonio’s home where his mother, thrilled to have company for the first time in a while as neither of her sons live at home anymore, made us the largest meal I have ever had in my life. It started with small pieces of fried bread, bruschetta, wine, more bread, the famous spaghetti and clams, followed by more clams by themselves, then mussels steamed in garlic and white wine, then steak, then salad, then fruit then more famous Napolitan pastries called baba. I wanted to cry my stomach was so full. I didn’t eat anything for the rest of the day and it was only 3.
We arrived back in Rome around 9 and after checking my email and reading for a bit I fell into a completely card induced slumber. What an amazing weekend.
This was supposed to be posted Friday
After having such an amazing birthday complete with more than 80 people writing on my Facebook wall, people giving me a play by play recount of the party and the show I apparently was, even now still catching flack for stuff I did, rarely this week have I found myself without a smile on my face. Even now I am still in shock that people would actually do something like that for me. It has to be one of the most generous things anyone has ever done for me in my entire life and these guys have known me not even a month! It was a strong message and it was certainly well received since I don’t think I have ever had to work harder at holding back tears. The next day was the Festival of the Republic which is a national holiday for Italy and meant no work or class for anyone. Perfect timing if you ask me. After two days of rain the morning came with fair skies, strong winds and the most wild flowers I have seen in one place maybe ever. It was a wonderful way to wake up and greet the day.
Skipping ahead a couple of a days, I spent yesterday (Thursday) afternoon walking around Piazza Spagna (Spanish Steps) doing some intent people watching. I think a whole new flood of college kids must have shown up this week because I have not heard so much English spoken in one place since I got here. It was interesting but as the sun grew higher in the sky, I retreated back to Villa Borghese under some nice tree cover and decided to read by the temple monument at the pond for a while. This was when maybe the most magical thing happened. There were not too many people out and about in this area, just a few lovers on benches near me, one or two boats out on the pond of course filled with more lovers, the sound of children’s laughter from the nearby open lawn that usually is filled with games of soccer and my head filled with thoughts of Avalon. I was reading about yet another traditional Pentecost feast that Arthur was throwing in his court and they of course asked Morgaine to play and sing at her harp as Kevin (the Merlin of Britain) was not in attendance. No sooner had I read Arthur’s plea for Morgaine to play that I suddenly heard faint music in my own world. It was hard to make out as it was quite far off. I looked up as if seeing in the distance would actually help my hearing. Sending out as much of my hearing as possible I tried to block out the rest of the sounds around me. Then the song reached the climax and I suddenly realized that I was listening to a very far off and therefore very haunting “Nessun Dorma” sung but none other than Pavarotti. So put yourself in my shoes. I am sitting under a weeping willow tree with sunlight pouring through the branches in front of a pond in Rome. It was so overwhelming that despite the couple that was taking pictures of each other right in front of me I could do nothing but let the tears that had been held in since Monday night break away from my eyes and slide silently down my cheeks and I listened with all my might to the clear tones of maybe the greatest aria ever written. It ended and even in the distance I could hear a great cry of joyous excitement rise up above the trees from the crowd I could not see. Pure magic.
Today I head out for Napoli. Pray that I make it back not only with all my things, but alive and with no knife wounds.
Skipping ahead a couple of a days, I spent yesterday (Thursday) afternoon walking around Piazza Spagna (Spanish Steps) doing some intent people watching. I think a whole new flood of college kids must have shown up this week because I have not heard so much English spoken in one place since I got here. It was interesting but as the sun grew higher in the sky, I retreated back to Villa Borghese under some nice tree cover and decided to read by the temple monument at the pond for a while. This was when maybe the most magical thing happened. There were not too many people out and about in this area, just a few lovers on benches near me, one or two boats out on the pond of course filled with more lovers, the sound of children’s laughter from the nearby open lawn that usually is filled with games of soccer and my head filled with thoughts of Avalon. I was reading about yet another traditional Pentecost feast that Arthur was throwing in his court and they of course asked Morgaine to play and sing at her harp as Kevin (the Merlin of Britain) was not in attendance. No sooner had I read Arthur’s plea for Morgaine to play that I suddenly heard faint music in my own world. It was hard to make out as it was quite far off. I looked up as if seeing in the distance would actually help my hearing. Sending out as much of my hearing as possible I tried to block out the rest of the sounds around me. Then the song reached the climax and I suddenly realized that I was listening to a very far off and therefore very haunting “Nessun Dorma” sung but none other than Pavarotti. So put yourself in my shoes. I am sitting under a weeping willow tree with sunlight pouring through the branches in front of a pond in Rome. It was so overwhelming that despite the couple that was taking pictures of each other right in front of me I could do nothing but let the tears that had been held in since Monday night break away from my eyes and slide silently down my cheeks and I listened with all my might to the clear tones of maybe the greatest aria ever written. It ended and even in the distance I could hear a great cry of joyous excitement rise up above the trees from the crowd I could not see. Pure magic.
Today I head out for Napoli. Pray that I make it back not only with all my things, but alive and with no knife wounds.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
A brief account of the week and my 21st
Yeah, I waited way to long to write. A whole week of stuff has gone by undocumented! SO much to tell. We shall start where I left off from last Saturday. Sunday I went to a city just outside of Rome that sits in the hills called Frescati. Beautiful place that is quite famous for its historical villas that were owned by different people of royalty as far back as the 14th Century. There was an event going on where for 10 Euros you could go to six different villas with a guided tour at each. These houses were amazing. The first one was owned by a duke, if I remember correctly, who loved the outdoors and wanted to feel like he was outside all the time. So to accomplish this he had every wall and ceiling in every room painted to look like some outdoor scene. It was amazing how detailed every room was. The best was at the end of one corridor there was a room that opened up to a terrace and inside the room was a piano and fountain. I want a fountain in my house!!
We went to the other five and then some of the guys wanted to go to Mass at one of the very old churches there. My friend Paolo who has become one of my very good friends at Villa doesn’t like going to Mass so I agreed to walk around the town with him while the other guys went. Instead of going to Mass we spent the whole hour talking about nothing but theology and our beliefs in God and all other ideas of that nature. It was a very in depth talk and I was slightly bummed when the other guys returned and we had to head back to Villa. All in all a very beautiful day with some AMAZING pictures.
The rest of the week was relatively uneventful. It was by far the fastest week I have had here and seemed to fly by before I even realized it was already Friday. I realized this week that I am now wrapped up in a tradition of having breakfast with the same guys. We all drink our coffee and eat biscotti while watching MTV and throwing food at Filippo for singing… very badly. It was a great way to start the day and it makes me feel like I actually in some non-permanent kind of way, fit in here. Thursday there was a huge party for Sandro who had just received his MS in physics. After a dinner of amazing wine, lots of different antipasti and the best mozzarella I have ever had, there was of course a loud party which was accompanied by games, music and excessive drinking. Italians really are amazing partiers (I would later find out just how good at it they are). But Friday finally came and we had our final choir rehearsal before the big performance on Saturday for the anniversary of the ordination of the Cardinal.
I had breakfast with the guys on Saturday morning and then after lunch I went to Villa Borghese for a while to read and get away from all the preparations for the celebration. I returned and got ready and then went to warm up with the choir and then we all gathered in the chapel and had Mass which of course was said by the Cardinal himself. I was amazed at how easily I kept up with what was going on. I don’t know why, but I kind of expected Mass to be slightly different here, which is completely wrong. I even recognized the scripture and all the readings and knew exactly when to stand, talk, sit, kneel. I was pleased not to feel completely lost the whole time. After Mass there were two dinners, one upstairs for the adults and then the basement was designated for the students. We ate and drank and then I was invited to go out with Antonio and Paolo to a pub near the Colosseum. Paolo ended up ditching us so it was just Antonio and I and we ended up coming back very very late. Italian night life is crazy in that district which is kind of funny since everything is surrounded by old Roman ruins. Quite ironic.
Sunday we were supposed to go to the sea but it ended up being completely over cast for the entire day. Instead we went to Palazza Barberini which is a huge house that was built and owned by Cardinal Barberini in the 15th century. HOLY CRAP THIS HOUSE IS AMAZING!! The walls were completely decked in paintings and art… as were the ceilings which I thought were equally as beautiful as the ones in San Pietro. Before heading home we decided to stop by a church that is quite famous for having an indoor cemetery. I thought this sounded quite interesting… I had no idea how interesting. You walk into this tiny room where a lady collects your small donation of whatever you can pay and then you walk down a hallway that contains the graves. It’s very dimly lit so when I first stepped into the hallway I was amazing by the amazing woodwork on the walls and ceiling. There were amazing designs of flowers, coat of arms, Papal symbols, religious symbols, crosses all carved out of wood. But oh wait… of course it couldn’t be that simple. Upon looking closer, I realized why the designs (although very beautiful and amazing) looked slightly strange. They were made out of human bones. Yes, each and every decoration, including the lamps that lit the corridor are made out of bones. Femurs, scapulas, skulls, ribs, jaws, every single bone in the human body was there and somehow, in some sick macabre sort of way, they were beautiful. Room after room was adorned in these human decorations and later I found out from Antonio that they are all the bones of nuns, monks and children. Really, really weird. It gave me chills and yet it was really cool.
Since they don’t serve us dinner on Sundays some of the guys were going out for happy hour at a restaurant near my school. I went with them and found out that happy hour in Italy is quite different from what it is in America. Apparently a lot of restaurants do this and it involves a cocktail of your choir (the place we went had over 50 different cocktails…) and then a buffet of quite amazing food… oh yeah, it was only 10 Euros. We all ate until we were stuffed and laughed until I was slightly afraid of losing my dinner and then headed out to a place called Pompi which serves nothing but desserts. However, what they are really famous for is their tiramisu which comes in either classic or strawberry. Yes, it was quite divine and only 3 Euros. One of the girls who came with us, Marika, invited me to go dancing with her and her cousin the next day for my birthday. Some of the other guys were going as well so I agreed since I obviously wanted to do something for my birthday. Oh, it was going to be such a good day.
I woke up early on Monday to go to class and was quite depressed because of course the one day it rains in Rome, would be on my birthday. I went to class which went by quickly (thank god) and went back to Villa for lunch. A couple of the guys wished me a happy birthday or “Alguri” in Italiano but not much else happened. I got to talk with my parents after lunch was nice but really did nothing but make me miss home. I was suddenly quite startled at how badly I wanted to be home for my birthday. Yes, it was quite cool to think about celebrating my birthday in Rome, but not much was going on. Nothing was really planned, I hadn’t heard much else about going dancing so I wasn’t even sure it was going to happen, the connection for Skype was being really sluggish so for the first 30 minutes of talking with my parents it was just really frustrating and I couldn’t even go out because it was raining. What the crap? This was my birthday! I was supposed to be having the best day of my life since this marked the 21st year of my life. This day is huge for Americans! But instead I was spending it inside, mostly alone, not getting to talk to the people I really wanted to be with.
I went to dinner were I got some more less than enthusiastic birthday wishes and then was informed that we were indeed going dancing. This perked my spirits a little so after dinner I went and got ready. I went to see if Antonio was coming and he told me that he was tired going to bed. A little bummed, I met up with guys and we went over to the girls place to pick up Marika. They all asked if I had a good day to which I really didn’t know how to respond. It was actually a pretty terrible day as far as birthdays go. They kept giving me shit because they said I looked sad but I just kind of brushed it off and slapped a smile of my face. At least we were going dancing. We left the girls place and then for some reason went back to the guys residence. Confused but not really caring at this point I followed them back to our place into one of the rooms that is used for events and conferences. It was completely dark, except for a candle in the middle of the room which cast a faint glow on a huge group of people. I was completely set up.
The turned on the lights and every person from both the guys and girls dorms sang happy birthday to me in Italian and then immediately started pouring as much wine as possible down my throat. I wanted to cry. It was the greatest and most amazing surprise I have ever gotten. I was so happy, confused, and overwhelmed and everyone just kept coming up to me and laughing. They were all in on it. The lack of enthusiasm that it was my birthday, all the people who claimed they didn’t even know it was my birthday, taking me over to the girls place to “pick up the girls,” everything, it was all a set up and they were all in on it. I could not have been happier or more surprised.
The party started with music and drinking and lots of slaps on my back and congratulations. They gave me a card which they had all signed and a recording of the Brahms Requiem and a recording of 9 different Verdi operas from La Scala. The whole time I could barely contain myself. This could not be real. But it was, and they had all come together to do it for me. After drinking way too much way too fast they decided (as is tradition) that it was time for a game. I was set in the center of the room next to a huge pot of sangria and had to place a “Wheel of Fortune” type game… in Italian. I had to drink a lot and I do mean A LOT of sangria, take off my shirt, and my pants, and kiss several of the girls. Oddio… By this time you can imagine that I was pretty happy… and not only in the sense of emotion. Toward the end of the night I apparently danced like crazy, professed my love to Marika several times, impersonated nearly everyone at Villa, sang the wrong words to the Star Spangled Banner (what?) and then was escorted to bed very very late at night (very drunk) and demanded that I sleep in my jeans. Why, I have no idea.
I called home and remember switching back and forth between English and Italian but I have no clue what exactly I said. I slept like a rock and woke up just in time for all the guys to start pounding on my door. Luckily for me I did not have a headache but still felt a little… loose. They laughed at my state of hang over and then I went to shower at make myself look slightly human. Lunch was quite the event as I was given a complete recount of all my doings the previous night. I apparently was quite the show and they all seem to have thoroughly enjoyed watching. I don’t think I will ever live this down. I truly believe that as far as 21st birthdays go, there has yet to be one so amazing as this. I still am amazed that it happened and that they all did it for me. I was and still am quite touched and will never, ever forget it. I could not have asked for a better birthday in Italy. It was truly one of the best days of my life, exactly as it should have been.
We went to the other five and then some of the guys wanted to go to Mass at one of the very old churches there. My friend Paolo who has become one of my very good friends at Villa doesn’t like going to Mass so I agreed to walk around the town with him while the other guys went. Instead of going to Mass we spent the whole hour talking about nothing but theology and our beliefs in God and all other ideas of that nature. It was a very in depth talk and I was slightly bummed when the other guys returned and we had to head back to Villa. All in all a very beautiful day with some AMAZING pictures.
The rest of the week was relatively uneventful. It was by far the fastest week I have had here and seemed to fly by before I even realized it was already Friday. I realized this week that I am now wrapped up in a tradition of having breakfast with the same guys. We all drink our coffee and eat biscotti while watching MTV and throwing food at Filippo for singing… very badly. It was a great way to start the day and it makes me feel like I actually in some non-permanent kind of way, fit in here. Thursday there was a huge party for Sandro who had just received his MS in physics. After a dinner of amazing wine, lots of different antipasti and the best mozzarella I have ever had, there was of course a loud party which was accompanied by games, music and excessive drinking. Italians really are amazing partiers (I would later find out just how good at it they are). But Friday finally came and we had our final choir rehearsal before the big performance on Saturday for the anniversary of the ordination of the Cardinal.
I had breakfast with the guys on Saturday morning and then after lunch I went to Villa Borghese for a while to read and get away from all the preparations for the celebration. I returned and got ready and then went to warm up with the choir and then we all gathered in the chapel and had Mass which of course was said by the Cardinal himself. I was amazed at how easily I kept up with what was going on. I don’t know why, but I kind of expected Mass to be slightly different here, which is completely wrong. I even recognized the scripture and all the readings and knew exactly when to stand, talk, sit, kneel. I was pleased not to feel completely lost the whole time. After Mass there were two dinners, one upstairs for the adults and then the basement was designated for the students. We ate and drank and then I was invited to go out with Antonio and Paolo to a pub near the Colosseum. Paolo ended up ditching us so it was just Antonio and I and we ended up coming back very very late. Italian night life is crazy in that district which is kind of funny since everything is surrounded by old Roman ruins. Quite ironic.
Sunday we were supposed to go to the sea but it ended up being completely over cast for the entire day. Instead we went to Palazza Barberini which is a huge house that was built and owned by Cardinal Barberini in the 15th century. HOLY CRAP THIS HOUSE IS AMAZING!! The walls were completely decked in paintings and art… as were the ceilings which I thought were equally as beautiful as the ones in San Pietro. Before heading home we decided to stop by a church that is quite famous for having an indoor cemetery. I thought this sounded quite interesting… I had no idea how interesting. You walk into this tiny room where a lady collects your small donation of whatever you can pay and then you walk down a hallway that contains the graves. It’s very dimly lit so when I first stepped into the hallway I was amazing by the amazing woodwork on the walls and ceiling. There were amazing designs of flowers, coat of arms, Papal symbols, religious symbols, crosses all carved out of wood. But oh wait… of course it couldn’t be that simple. Upon looking closer, I realized why the designs (although very beautiful and amazing) looked slightly strange. They were made out of human bones. Yes, each and every decoration, including the lamps that lit the corridor are made out of bones. Femurs, scapulas, skulls, ribs, jaws, every single bone in the human body was there and somehow, in some sick macabre sort of way, they were beautiful. Room after room was adorned in these human decorations and later I found out from Antonio that they are all the bones of nuns, monks and children. Really, really weird. It gave me chills and yet it was really cool.
Since they don’t serve us dinner on Sundays some of the guys were going out for happy hour at a restaurant near my school. I went with them and found out that happy hour in Italy is quite different from what it is in America. Apparently a lot of restaurants do this and it involves a cocktail of your choir (the place we went had over 50 different cocktails…) and then a buffet of quite amazing food… oh yeah, it was only 10 Euros. We all ate until we were stuffed and laughed until I was slightly afraid of losing my dinner and then headed out to a place called Pompi which serves nothing but desserts. However, what they are really famous for is their tiramisu which comes in either classic or strawberry. Yes, it was quite divine and only 3 Euros. One of the girls who came with us, Marika, invited me to go dancing with her and her cousin the next day for my birthday. Some of the other guys were going as well so I agreed since I obviously wanted to do something for my birthday. Oh, it was going to be such a good day.
I woke up early on Monday to go to class and was quite depressed because of course the one day it rains in Rome, would be on my birthday. I went to class which went by quickly (thank god) and went back to Villa for lunch. A couple of the guys wished me a happy birthday or “Alguri” in Italiano but not much else happened. I got to talk with my parents after lunch was nice but really did nothing but make me miss home. I was suddenly quite startled at how badly I wanted to be home for my birthday. Yes, it was quite cool to think about celebrating my birthday in Rome, but not much was going on. Nothing was really planned, I hadn’t heard much else about going dancing so I wasn’t even sure it was going to happen, the connection for Skype was being really sluggish so for the first 30 minutes of talking with my parents it was just really frustrating and I couldn’t even go out because it was raining. What the crap? This was my birthday! I was supposed to be having the best day of my life since this marked the 21st year of my life. This day is huge for Americans! But instead I was spending it inside, mostly alone, not getting to talk to the people I really wanted to be with.
I went to dinner were I got some more less than enthusiastic birthday wishes and then was informed that we were indeed going dancing. This perked my spirits a little so after dinner I went and got ready. I went to see if Antonio was coming and he told me that he was tired going to bed. A little bummed, I met up with guys and we went over to the girls place to pick up Marika. They all asked if I had a good day to which I really didn’t know how to respond. It was actually a pretty terrible day as far as birthdays go. They kept giving me shit because they said I looked sad but I just kind of brushed it off and slapped a smile of my face. At least we were going dancing. We left the girls place and then for some reason went back to the guys residence. Confused but not really caring at this point I followed them back to our place into one of the rooms that is used for events and conferences. It was completely dark, except for a candle in the middle of the room which cast a faint glow on a huge group of people. I was completely set up.
The turned on the lights and every person from both the guys and girls dorms sang happy birthday to me in Italian and then immediately started pouring as much wine as possible down my throat. I wanted to cry. It was the greatest and most amazing surprise I have ever gotten. I was so happy, confused, and overwhelmed and everyone just kept coming up to me and laughing. They were all in on it. The lack of enthusiasm that it was my birthday, all the people who claimed they didn’t even know it was my birthday, taking me over to the girls place to “pick up the girls,” everything, it was all a set up and they were all in on it. I could not have been happier or more surprised.
The party started with music and drinking and lots of slaps on my back and congratulations. They gave me a card which they had all signed and a recording of the Brahms Requiem and a recording of 9 different Verdi operas from La Scala. The whole time I could barely contain myself. This could not be real. But it was, and they had all come together to do it for me. After drinking way too much way too fast they decided (as is tradition) that it was time for a game. I was set in the center of the room next to a huge pot of sangria and had to place a “Wheel of Fortune” type game… in Italian. I had to drink a lot and I do mean A LOT of sangria, take off my shirt, and my pants, and kiss several of the girls. Oddio… By this time you can imagine that I was pretty happy… and not only in the sense of emotion. Toward the end of the night I apparently danced like crazy, professed my love to Marika several times, impersonated nearly everyone at Villa, sang the wrong words to the Star Spangled Banner (what?) and then was escorted to bed very very late at night (very drunk) and demanded that I sleep in my jeans. Why, I have no idea.
I called home and remember switching back and forth between English and Italian but I have no clue what exactly I said. I slept like a rock and woke up just in time for all the guys to start pounding on my door. Luckily for me I did not have a headache but still felt a little… loose. They laughed at my state of hang over and then I went to shower at make myself look slightly human. Lunch was quite the event as I was given a complete recount of all my doings the previous night. I apparently was quite the show and they all seem to have thoroughly enjoyed watching. I don’t think I will ever live this down. I truly believe that as far as 21st birthdays go, there has yet to be one so amazing as this. I still am amazed that it happened and that they all did it for me. I was and still am quite touched and will never, ever forget it. I could not have asked for a better birthday in Italy. It was truly one of the best days of my life, exactly as it should have been.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Aaaaaaaand we're back
Ok, I'm really sorry I haven't been posting. I actually have done quite a bit since my post last Saturday that I will take time later to really write an in depth telling of. But for now I just want to reassure all my wonderful readers that yes, I am still alive and well and loving Italy and still do not want to come home. Oh and by the way... IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!!
That's all for now but hopefully tonight I will have a real post awaiting you.
That's all for now but hopefully tonight I will have a real post awaiting you.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Everything since Wednesday
No post in four days! Oh no! I actually do not know why I have not posted in so long. It was a good week and I was in the library a few times to use the internet, but for some reason, I just haven’t written. Well, here is an account of everything (as I can remember properly) since Tuesday. Wednesday was quite a hilarious day. It started out as always with class which was good and followed by lunch which also good. I did not stay long at Villa after lunch as I was quite energetic and wanted to be out and about the town. I headed for Piazza Spagna (Spanish Steps) to see the steps and to walk around the shops there. This I will remind you, is where all the big deal designer stores are and I really wanted to go and just look as if everything was in a museum. It almost felt like being at Harrod’s in London again. After walking around and silently laughing to myself about incredibly price tags for things as small as wallets, I started to really watch the people going into these shops. Of course there were normal people like me who were just walking around, but every time I watched someone go into a shop, I tried to listen to their conversation if they were talking to someone. Almost everything single person that I could hear was American.
When I had first come here, Antonio told me that it’s mostly foreigners who shop on this street and you actually won’t see a lot of Italians going into the shops. It’s completely true. I watched one women asking her very young (and very bored looking) sons if she could just pop into Prada quickly with the promise that she wouldn’t buy anything, she just wanted to take a quick look around. I actually saw one boy roll his eyes as he followed silently behind. How could you blame him? I laughed.
I’ve thought for a while that would be kind of cool to own a small piece of designer fashion. Mostly I had it my head that this would come in the form of sun glasses. So each time I would walk past a shop, I would look at their display case of sun glasses, feel extremely sick to my stomach, and promptly walk away. Finally, just off the main strip, I found a store that sold nothing but designer sun glasses. There were lots of display windows so I didn’t even have to go inside. (A note about this: I don’t think I will ever go into one of these stores for fear of breaking something and for fear of feeling extremely dirty, as if the contamination of American high brow life could infest its way into my skin.) I looked at the sun glasses and found some really cool pairs. One was a pair of Dolce & Gabana that I thought would be cool to wear and craned my head to see the price tag through the window. Once again, I felt quite sick as the little white tag said in printed, matter of fact, solemn black ink letters… €440,00. *GAG* As my Mother so wisely put it “So, bring your brother to Europe for two weeks, or designer sunglasses?”
Thursday I ensured that my class loved me by singing for them. The walls of Villa are relatively thin so we can hear the other classes going on during our lesson. Well, me singing was really no exception and when I got to my first high note, all the other classes went totally silent. (On Friday, everyone was asking who the singer from yesterday was.) It was pretty cool and my classmates seemed to enjoy it. I did not return to Villa after class and instead went for lunch and park time with the Brazilian girl from my class. We stopped at Termini station to buy some food at the large market there and then took the Metro to Flaminio and ate our lunch in Villa Borghese. It was a beautiful day (as always) and we had every intention of studying for our exam the next day. Another girl from our class, Anna (who is from Germany) met us there after her private class and the three of us talked and laughed extremely loudly, getting a few turned heads from the other people lying in the sun. It was a grand time that of course ended without a lick of studying to be had. But no matter, it was a great bonding experience and Anna was leaving Saturday anyways. After dinner that night I went into the library to do my homework and actually get some real studying done. It wasn’t long until I had gotten an invitation for gelato which I turned down because for some odd reason, right before dinner, I had developed a weird sore throat that I figure probably wouldn’t be helped by gelato. But of course, a little while later, I got another invitation and decided it was a sign and accepted. We went out to another historic gelateria called Old Bridge which is near the Vatican. Very tasty.
We walked around Vatican square for a loooong time ended not returning to Villa until around 2 in the morning. I did a little more studying and crashed in my bed. The next day I got up a little early for some extra studying, had breakfast with some of the guys in the mini kitchen and then headed for class. Class went swiftly by and ended with my singing again, except with extra people from other classes joining the audience. I was sad at the end of class because most of the women were done and heading home the next day. We all took pictures and swapped emails and then Maite and I headed for the exam. It wasn’t too hard but much to my dismay, I will not find out until Monday whether I will go on to the next level or not. Ah well.
I went back to Villa and spent the afternoon reading and walking and taking a bit of nap as I was tired from getting no sleep the night before. Instead of going to dinner, I went with Loris and Francesco to a concert at the Santa Cecilia Conservatory. They were all older voice students singing Verdi, Donizetti, Gounod, Messenet, and Puccini. All but two were absolutely fantastic. The women especially were incredibly mature for their age and had lovely tone and line. One girl sang “Signore ascolta” from Turandot and another aria from Rigoletto and was just… amazing. What was weird was that all but three of them were Asian. Strange, but they were really good, so it doesn’t really matter. We rushed back to Villa to have choir practice and afterwards I went out with Paolo for a late night romp around Rome. We went to a park in an area called Gianicolo which sites on top of one of the Seven Hills of Rome. Obviously, the view was amazing. Today, I’m not quite sure what is going on other than almost all of the guys are in a practice test until 8 for their English exam next month. A 6 hour exam? That’s a bit rough. We shall see what I decide to do.
When I had first come here, Antonio told me that it’s mostly foreigners who shop on this street and you actually won’t see a lot of Italians going into the shops. It’s completely true. I watched one women asking her very young (and very bored looking) sons if she could just pop into Prada quickly with the promise that she wouldn’t buy anything, she just wanted to take a quick look around. I actually saw one boy roll his eyes as he followed silently behind. How could you blame him? I laughed.
I’ve thought for a while that would be kind of cool to own a small piece of designer fashion. Mostly I had it my head that this would come in the form of sun glasses. So each time I would walk past a shop, I would look at their display case of sun glasses, feel extremely sick to my stomach, and promptly walk away. Finally, just off the main strip, I found a store that sold nothing but designer sun glasses. There were lots of display windows so I didn’t even have to go inside. (A note about this: I don’t think I will ever go into one of these stores for fear of breaking something and for fear of feeling extremely dirty, as if the contamination of American high brow life could infest its way into my skin.) I looked at the sun glasses and found some really cool pairs. One was a pair of Dolce & Gabana that I thought would be cool to wear and craned my head to see the price tag through the window. Once again, I felt quite sick as the little white tag said in printed, matter of fact, solemn black ink letters… €440,00. *GAG* As my Mother so wisely put it “So, bring your brother to Europe for two weeks, or designer sunglasses?”
Thursday I ensured that my class loved me by singing for them. The walls of Villa are relatively thin so we can hear the other classes going on during our lesson. Well, me singing was really no exception and when I got to my first high note, all the other classes went totally silent. (On Friday, everyone was asking who the singer from yesterday was.) It was pretty cool and my classmates seemed to enjoy it. I did not return to Villa after class and instead went for lunch and park time with the Brazilian girl from my class. We stopped at Termini station to buy some food at the large market there and then took the Metro to Flaminio and ate our lunch in Villa Borghese. It was a beautiful day (as always) and we had every intention of studying for our exam the next day. Another girl from our class, Anna (who is from Germany) met us there after her private class and the three of us talked and laughed extremely loudly, getting a few turned heads from the other people lying in the sun. It was a grand time that of course ended without a lick of studying to be had. But no matter, it was a great bonding experience and Anna was leaving Saturday anyways. After dinner that night I went into the library to do my homework and actually get some real studying done. It wasn’t long until I had gotten an invitation for gelato which I turned down because for some odd reason, right before dinner, I had developed a weird sore throat that I figure probably wouldn’t be helped by gelato. But of course, a little while later, I got another invitation and decided it was a sign and accepted. We went out to another historic gelateria called Old Bridge which is near the Vatican. Very tasty.
We walked around Vatican square for a loooong time ended not returning to Villa until around 2 in the morning. I did a little more studying and crashed in my bed. The next day I got up a little early for some extra studying, had breakfast with some of the guys in the mini kitchen and then headed for class. Class went swiftly by and ended with my singing again, except with extra people from other classes joining the audience. I was sad at the end of class because most of the women were done and heading home the next day. We all took pictures and swapped emails and then Maite and I headed for the exam. It wasn’t too hard but much to my dismay, I will not find out until Monday whether I will go on to the next level or not. Ah well.
I went back to Villa and spent the afternoon reading and walking and taking a bit of nap as I was tired from getting no sleep the night before. Instead of going to dinner, I went with Loris and Francesco to a concert at the Santa Cecilia Conservatory. They were all older voice students singing Verdi, Donizetti, Gounod, Messenet, and Puccini. All but two were absolutely fantastic. The women especially were incredibly mature for their age and had lovely tone and line. One girl sang “Signore ascolta” from Turandot and another aria from Rigoletto and was just… amazing. What was weird was that all but three of them were Asian. Strange, but they were really good, so it doesn’t really matter. We rushed back to Villa to have choir practice and afterwards I went out with Paolo for a late night romp around Rome. We went to a park in an area called Gianicolo which sites on top of one of the Seven Hills of Rome. Obviously, the view was amazing. Today, I’m not quite sure what is going on other than almost all of the guys are in a practice test until 8 for their English exam next month. A 6 hour exam? That’s a bit rough. We shall see what I decide to do.
I apparently forgot to post this...
*So this is wrote I wrote for my day on Tuesday and apparently forgot to post. Woops.*
After a wonderful and very fulfilling day I suddenly came to the jolting realization that I’ve officially been here for two weeks. TWO WEEKS?!?! I can’t believe it’s already been so long! For the longest time I would have taken oath on saying that days in Rome are the longest in the world and like some parallel yet unequal universe, time runs differently here. But it turns out that the sands of time slip through your fingers all too quickly anywhere your physical self may be and the flight of time is no trick of any fairy but rather the workings of misplaced imaginations and time spent with your dreams. Goodness!
But that aside, it was a very good day. We finished most of our work on prepositions and articles today (although the work of prepositions will be an ongoing and very annoying process for me) and we then started work on the second worst of all… passato prossimo. This is really a very tricky concept for me because in Italian, the past relies on two verbs before each past participle which are avere and essere and I always seem to screw up when to use one or the other. We shall see how this turns out. My test to proceed onto the next level of classes is Friday, so I will have to pay close attention!
After class today my classmates seemed to have forgotten that I agreed to sing for them today and so I quietly slipped out while the thought was still out of their minds. I headed back to Villa and managed to give every single UD student the cold shoulder even though some of them tossed looks of “Is that the UD kid that lives here?” I ignored them and did my best to speak as much Italian as I could so that I could separate them from myself even further. I also have found another reason to hate their presence: with 20 extra mouths to feed, the cooks resort to things easier to make in mass quantity, as this never bodes well for quality anywhere, the food at lunch is becoming less than desirable. I mean, for God’s sake, yesterday we had chicken fingers. *sigh* How could I ever have thought to hate Canadians when it is obvious that I can find enough animosity for just one nationality.
After lunch I headed back to the Center to meet up with the Brazilian girl, Maitê, from my class. She had never been to Piazza Venezia and had nothing to do all afternoon so we decided to meet up because I had seen it. We met at Termini station and tried to take a bus, but the bus she thought went there actually went to a different monument that she thought was Piazza Venezia. We finally found the right bus and went there… missing the closing time by 15 minutes. Ah well, more incentive to go back, right? She ended up getting invited to have dinner with one of the other girls that is also living in Rome and sharing the same apartment building as her. So we headed out separate ways and for some reason I decided to go for another run. I don’t know why I all of a sudden feel the drive to do all this cardio, but at the end of the day in the hot Italian sun, it feels great. I come back just in time for a quick shower and to head to dinner. The fast paced motion feels good after sitting all morning and seems to give some vindication to the sweat I produced during my romp around town. It makes showering feel AH-mazing.
After everyone had left dinner I sat with the guys who had come late and we talked for a long time which was really cool. I met the girl who apparently every single guy in Villa wants for himself. Her name is Matika (I think that’s how you spell it), and she is an aerospace engineering major and apparently is some kind of crazy genius. Oh, I guess it would help to mention that she’s well… beautiful… to say the least. You know Sofia Loren? Yeah, this girl has about the same legs, certainly a good representation of the same front, classic Italian face and gorgeous “let me run my fingers and then smell it as I’m sure it smells like Heaven” hair. I understood why every guy tried to sit at her table. It was quite funny. The best part was that whenever she would talk to the guys, then never, ever, even once, looked at her face. Ah well, boys will be boys. I came to the sickening realization today that I have not had any gelato since last Thursday. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! I’m going out with Antonio after his German lesson. Mmmmmm… gelato…
After a wonderful and very fulfilling day I suddenly came to the jolting realization that I’ve officially been here for two weeks. TWO WEEKS?!?! I can’t believe it’s already been so long! For the longest time I would have taken oath on saying that days in Rome are the longest in the world and like some parallel yet unequal universe, time runs differently here. But it turns out that the sands of time slip through your fingers all too quickly anywhere your physical self may be and the flight of time is no trick of any fairy but rather the workings of misplaced imaginations and time spent with your dreams. Goodness!
But that aside, it was a very good day. We finished most of our work on prepositions and articles today (although the work of prepositions will be an ongoing and very annoying process for me) and we then started work on the second worst of all… passato prossimo. This is really a very tricky concept for me because in Italian, the past relies on two verbs before each past participle which are avere and essere and I always seem to screw up when to use one or the other. We shall see how this turns out. My test to proceed onto the next level of classes is Friday, so I will have to pay close attention!
After class today my classmates seemed to have forgotten that I agreed to sing for them today and so I quietly slipped out while the thought was still out of their minds. I headed back to Villa and managed to give every single UD student the cold shoulder even though some of them tossed looks of “Is that the UD kid that lives here?” I ignored them and did my best to speak as much Italian as I could so that I could separate them from myself even further. I also have found another reason to hate their presence: with 20 extra mouths to feed, the cooks resort to things easier to make in mass quantity, as this never bodes well for quality anywhere, the food at lunch is becoming less than desirable. I mean, for God’s sake, yesterday we had chicken fingers. *sigh* How could I ever have thought to hate Canadians when it is obvious that I can find enough animosity for just one nationality.
After lunch I headed back to the Center to meet up with the Brazilian girl, Maitê, from my class. She had never been to Piazza Venezia and had nothing to do all afternoon so we decided to meet up because I had seen it. We met at Termini station and tried to take a bus, but the bus she thought went there actually went to a different monument that she thought was Piazza Venezia. We finally found the right bus and went there… missing the closing time by 15 minutes. Ah well, more incentive to go back, right? She ended up getting invited to have dinner with one of the other girls that is also living in Rome and sharing the same apartment building as her. So we headed out separate ways and for some reason I decided to go for another run. I don’t know why I all of a sudden feel the drive to do all this cardio, but at the end of the day in the hot Italian sun, it feels great. I come back just in time for a quick shower and to head to dinner. The fast paced motion feels good after sitting all morning and seems to give some vindication to the sweat I produced during my romp around town. It makes showering feel AH-mazing.
After everyone had left dinner I sat with the guys who had come late and we talked for a long time which was really cool. I met the girl who apparently every single guy in Villa wants for himself. Her name is Matika (I think that’s how you spell it), and she is an aerospace engineering major and apparently is some kind of crazy genius. Oh, I guess it would help to mention that she’s well… beautiful… to say the least. You know Sofia Loren? Yeah, this girl has about the same legs, certainly a good representation of the same front, classic Italian face and gorgeous “let me run my fingers and then smell it as I’m sure it smells like Heaven” hair. I understood why every guy tried to sit at her table. It was quite funny. The best part was that whenever she would talk to the guys, then never, ever, even once, looked at her face. Ah well, boys will be boys. I came to the sickening realization today that I have not had any gelato since last Thursday. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! I’m going out with Antonio after his German lesson. Mmmmmm… gelato…
Monday, May 18, 2009
Sunday and Monday Blues
At day’s end, with my tired body getting comfortable in my crispy old sheets with my scratchy wool blanket tossed aside to avoid dying of heat while sleeping and my mind in some kind of mixture of Avalon and Rome, I realized that not much had happened on this brief Sunday. After sleeping off the Canadian hatred I had acquired the previous day (well, actually, I started hating them after midnight, so I guess I had gotten it Sunday), I went to lunch and found myself irritable and quite discontent with how my day was to pan out. I did some studying and reading and then hated being inside, so I ventured out for a run. The sun was hot as it started to fade from the sky but the heat just fueled my want to run harder and relieve my pissy attitude.
After I thought my lungs would rip open, I walked back to Villa and watched the soccer match going on between the two Villa teams. It was exciting and I loved how seriously they all took it even though they all live together and find no competition against each other otherwise. During the match I went inside to shower and throw in a load of laundry that I needed for the next day. The match ended up being a tie, but was still exciting as it drew to the end. I ate some dinner with a few guys who weren’t apart of the match and then headed out with Antonio and Mario to see Angeli e Demoni (Angels and Demons, except we of course watched it in Italian). This of course is a real plot with complicated twists and turns and not the easy “let’s just make a whole lot of action scenes with some crappy dialogue thrown in” that X-Men was, I really had to pay attention and even so, I only caught a few phrases and a basic understanding of what was going on. Antonio made me recount the plot to him… in Italian. It was really hard.
I came back and watched some soccer and drank some milk with two guys from my floor and I was amazed that we spoke almost the whole time in Italian. I want to say I’m getting better, but then I find myself in conversations where I have no idea what’s going on and can’t respond or understand and then I don’t feel like I’m learning anything. It’s frustrating but I guess I just have to keep chugging along and remembering that I’ve only been here two weeks and that after two months even, my speaking will certainly be better but I should have no fantasies of real fluency. I crashed in bed.
I woke this morning at 7 without the help of my alarm which I had set for 6:30. I looked at the shelf next to my bed and realized that my alarm wasn’t even there. I vaulted out of bed frantically trying to find it so I could know what time it was. Somehow I had apparently heard it go off, grabbed it and turned it off and set it under my pillow… I have no recollection of doing this. I didn’t have time now to hang my clothes on the line, so I dressed quickly, grabbed a bite from the kitchen and headed out the door. Of course since I was rushing I got to school extremely early and the school wasn’t even open yet.
Class went incredibly fast today which was disappointing because I had no desire to return to Villa. This is not because I don’t like Villa, I love Villa, but today was the arrival of the summer study abroad program from UD. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t know any of them, and in all honesty, I really don’t like the majority of students from UD. But alas, I arrived home and decided to kill as much time as possible before heading for lunch. When I got there it was exactly as I had expected. Not only did I not know anyone, I was glad for it. It’s incredible how fast you can pick out a UD student. Every girl in shorts that no society could ever find an acceptable length with bleach blond hair, guys that put whole tool boxes to shame with pants half way down their butts, slouched in their chairs acting like they own the world and that being American gives them privilege anywhere they go. I wasn’t very hungry so I shoved some pasta down and left quickly. I was almost embarrassed to show my face, not to the students, but to the Villa guys. I hated that I had to be associated with the other UD students.
When I got back to my room I felt a pang of guilt and ended up finding myself in a confused state of emotion. I felt bad that I had such a lofty opinion of myself and that I had any right to hold myself above the other UD students. It’s not as if I’m smarter, more cultured, or better than them. But at the same time, I think in a lot of ways, they are everything I hold them as. Sure, I know they all have their own sets of qualities good and bad just as I or anyone does. But this isn’t an opinion that I was born with or just clandestantly had, I gather this opinion from my own experiences with the students whom I study with. I am not one who goes out drinking every possible moment in the ghetto and I don’t always drink with the sole intention of getting drunk, I don’t walk around flaunting my nationality, I don’t dress like a tool (usually) and most of all, I am here to experience Italy through the eyes of an Italian, not to find America in Italy. There is a section of Rome that not a single Italian lives in because it is unofficially known as “the American district.” There are nothing but American stores, souvenir shops and the only food and drink you can find is at American style bars… full of nothing but Americans. Francesco asked them where they had been so far (they arrived Friday) and the only thing they had seen was that square. Are you kidding? We shall see how it pans out, but at the moment, I’m confused between being disgusted at myself or them or perhaps both.
After I thought my lungs would rip open, I walked back to Villa and watched the soccer match going on between the two Villa teams. It was exciting and I loved how seriously they all took it even though they all live together and find no competition against each other otherwise. During the match I went inside to shower and throw in a load of laundry that I needed for the next day. The match ended up being a tie, but was still exciting as it drew to the end. I ate some dinner with a few guys who weren’t apart of the match and then headed out with Antonio and Mario to see Angeli e Demoni (Angels and Demons, except we of course watched it in Italian). This of course is a real plot with complicated twists and turns and not the easy “let’s just make a whole lot of action scenes with some crappy dialogue thrown in” that X-Men was, I really had to pay attention and even so, I only caught a few phrases and a basic understanding of what was going on. Antonio made me recount the plot to him… in Italian. It was really hard.
I came back and watched some soccer and drank some milk with two guys from my floor and I was amazed that we spoke almost the whole time in Italian. I want to say I’m getting better, but then I find myself in conversations where I have no idea what’s going on and can’t respond or understand and then I don’t feel like I’m learning anything. It’s frustrating but I guess I just have to keep chugging along and remembering that I’ve only been here two weeks and that after two months even, my speaking will certainly be better but I should have no fantasies of real fluency. I crashed in bed.
I woke this morning at 7 without the help of my alarm which I had set for 6:30. I looked at the shelf next to my bed and realized that my alarm wasn’t even there. I vaulted out of bed frantically trying to find it so I could know what time it was. Somehow I had apparently heard it go off, grabbed it and turned it off and set it under my pillow… I have no recollection of doing this. I didn’t have time now to hang my clothes on the line, so I dressed quickly, grabbed a bite from the kitchen and headed out the door. Of course since I was rushing I got to school extremely early and the school wasn’t even open yet.
Class went incredibly fast today which was disappointing because I had no desire to return to Villa. This is not because I don’t like Villa, I love Villa, but today was the arrival of the summer study abroad program from UD. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t know any of them, and in all honesty, I really don’t like the majority of students from UD. But alas, I arrived home and decided to kill as much time as possible before heading for lunch. When I got there it was exactly as I had expected. Not only did I not know anyone, I was glad for it. It’s incredible how fast you can pick out a UD student. Every girl in shorts that no society could ever find an acceptable length with bleach blond hair, guys that put whole tool boxes to shame with pants half way down their butts, slouched in their chairs acting like they own the world and that being American gives them privilege anywhere they go. I wasn’t very hungry so I shoved some pasta down and left quickly. I was almost embarrassed to show my face, not to the students, but to the Villa guys. I hated that I had to be associated with the other UD students.
When I got back to my room I felt a pang of guilt and ended up finding myself in a confused state of emotion. I felt bad that I had such a lofty opinion of myself and that I had any right to hold myself above the other UD students. It’s not as if I’m smarter, more cultured, or better than them. But at the same time, I think in a lot of ways, they are everything I hold them as. Sure, I know they all have their own sets of qualities good and bad just as I or anyone does. But this isn’t an opinion that I was born with or just clandestantly had, I gather this opinion from my own experiences with the students whom I study with. I am not one who goes out drinking every possible moment in the ghetto and I don’t always drink with the sole intention of getting drunk, I don’t walk around flaunting my nationality, I don’t dress like a tool (usually) and most of all, I am here to experience Italy through the eyes of an Italian, not to find America in Italy. There is a section of Rome that not a single Italian lives in because it is unofficially known as “the American district.” There are nothing but American stores, souvenir shops and the only food and drink you can find is at American style bars… full of nothing but Americans. Francesco asked them where they had been so far (they arrived Friday) and the only thing they had seen was that square. Are you kidding? We shall see how it pans out, but at the moment, I’m confused between being disgusted at myself or them or perhaps both.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Blame Canada
Hurray for Saturday! I slept in until 9 and felt guilty for it so I decided to make it worth the time I had left. I honestly had no idea just how much I would be making up for this lost time of sleeping. But more on that a little later. I got up and had some breakfast and then set about to doing my homework for class and a little bit of studying. It was a much nicer day than Friday and it was nice to sit by my window with music playing just studying Italian, in Italy. Excellent.
After lunch I walked around with Antonio and Grabriele for a while and we talked about the night to come. They had invited me to watch the movie Hitch in English with their English class at 4 so I agreed to go just for something to do, although it seemed a great shame to waste such a nice day. Antonio had invited me at lunch to go with him to White Night which is an event that happens around the entire city of Rome where every public museum and church is open to the public free of charge from 10:00 to 1:00 am. I wanted to go but I had been asked by Francesco to go out with him for the night. Sadly, I declined the invitation. Francesco is part of an online networking service called Coach Surfing. It is basically huge network of people all over the world and you can request to hang out or even stay with someone who lives in a city that you’re travelling to or even have them house you for a night. It’s basically a way to find your way around foreign cities or possible even avoid staying in a hostile. He was picking up two Canadians from the airport who were on a long vacation and coming to Rome from Athens and then we were all meeting two Americans from Babylon, New York.
When were going to leave Francesco told me to change my shirt because he wanted to go out dancing and I did so thinking that dancing sounded fun. Well, we picked up the Canadians which took forever because not only was their flight delayed and the luggage apparently took a long time to come out, but they also came out a completely different exit than Francesco and I expected. So finally we headed for the Center where the Americans were staying. We met up with the Americans but the Canadians still had to check into the hostile that their friend had booked for them. So we left the Americans so they could shower and we found out when we got their that the Canadian’s friend apparently never booked their room and the hostile was full for the night. So drove back across the Center which on a Saturday night during White Night took nearly 35 minutes (and I’m sure it was no more than 3 kilometers). We met back up with the Americans who then proceeded to help the Canadians find a place to stay.
Two hours later…
We finally find a place for the Canadians to stay and it is now 11:15 (Francesco and I have not even since lunch at 1). During the search for logging, the Canadian girl (both couples were boy/girl) started having some kind of reaction on her legs. It started as just some incredibly large bug bites and slightly swollen ankles. By the time we finally made it to a restaurant… 2 hours after seeking one out, her “reaction” as we were calling it, had gotten much worse. She said it didn’t hurt too bad except for when she would bend her ankles too far and her “bites” would split open. Yeah, it really was quite disgusting. Her ankles were at least twice their normal size, huge welts that looked like sacks of pus from a rash like you would get from poison ivy were popping up (and open) all over her calves, ankles and feet, and they would randomly burst open and ooze down her leg and some of the ooze had blood in it and from the swelling (I’m guessing) her feet started turning purple and it was getting hard for her to walk.
We ate an a pretty fancy but not too expensive Mexican style restaurant but since it was already 1 by the time we sat down, the kitchen was getting ready to close and we were all just kind of past our hunger. I was really beginning to hate the Canadians. We ordered three pitchers of sangria and within the first glass and a half, I was already feeling it since I hadn’t eaten in so long. The bill with two appetizers ended up being 47 Euro and Francesco and I both said we would buy a pitcher each. Somehow, he ended up putting in 20 and I put in 10… what? Yeah, I don’t understand either. Another strike against the Canadians. The Americans were very cool and had just finished an 12 day tour of Italy and seemed to be very experienced travelers. I didn’t get the sense that they were a couple, but rather very good friends and were a blast to hang out with (both 24). The Canadian girl was really cool and I felt horrible that she was having this… whatever it was, her first day in Rome and still had 10 days of her trip left. The guy however, was a different story. He apparently wasn’t gay, but I would have laid down money that he was and he fulfilled every stereotype that gives gay men a bad rep. He was loud, out spoken, absent minded, incredibly rude to the girl as he kept laughing at her and saying that “The Europe trip is over,” and just over all being a pain.
After we ate we headed back to the American’s hostile and bid them goodnight and goodbye. Then we went in search of a hospital for Lauren which I would out later, was the real beginning of my night. We went to a hospital in the city arriving after 3 and waited there until a little after 4. This apparently is not the best hospital in Rome and the women who had checked Lauren into triage ended up telling Francesco that we would have better luck at Gemelli which is actually close to Villa. We headed all the way across town and got to Gemelli around 4:30. They took her immediately and did some blood work… that we didn’t get the results for until 7. We took them to the pharmacy to fill the prescription for Lauren, all the while Josh was complaining about how the trip was over and he was going sight seeing with or without Lauren no matter what and I seriously, in my extremely tired and grouchy state, wanted to deck him in the face and make the rest of the trip a lot easier for Lauren.
In the end, we got back to Villa at 7:30 and I was supposed to be heading with a group from Villa to San Paolo in 2 hours for the afternoon. There was just no way I would be able to keep my eyes open through mass and priests talking about the church in Italian. I very sadly scratched my name off the list and went to bed. So that was my night. Instead of seeing every museum that I possibly could in one night, filling myself to the brim with history and culture and things that I might not have the money for later, I spent it with two pretty cool Americans, a gimpy Canadian girl and an incredibly rude, loud and annoying Canadian guy. Not seeing museums, not going dancing, not bar hopping, not meeting more really cool people, not doing what I came here to do since basically the whole night I was actually playing the role of interpreter for Francesco and not speaking a lick of Italian. As much as I tried my hardest to actually enjoy myself and see it as one of those things that would make for a great story later, it really just felt like a waste and it was hard to control my disappointment as the person I really felt for was Francesco who had to do all the driving and paid for more than the should have. There was talk of going to the beach today, but seeing as it is nearly 4, I don’t believe that will happen. I am buying a ticket sometime this week for a trip to Florence next weekend to be sure that not another moment is wasted in this amazing country. Stupid Canadians.
After lunch I walked around with Antonio and Grabriele for a while and we talked about the night to come. They had invited me to watch the movie Hitch in English with their English class at 4 so I agreed to go just for something to do, although it seemed a great shame to waste such a nice day. Antonio had invited me at lunch to go with him to White Night which is an event that happens around the entire city of Rome where every public museum and church is open to the public free of charge from 10:00 to 1:00 am. I wanted to go but I had been asked by Francesco to go out with him for the night. Sadly, I declined the invitation. Francesco is part of an online networking service called Coach Surfing. It is basically huge network of people all over the world and you can request to hang out or even stay with someone who lives in a city that you’re travelling to or even have them house you for a night. It’s basically a way to find your way around foreign cities or possible even avoid staying in a hostile. He was picking up two Canadians from the airport who were on a long vacation and coming to Rome from Athens and then we were all meeting two Americans from Babylon, New York.
When were going to leave Francesco told me to change my shirt because he wanted to go out dancing and I did so thinking that dancing sounded fun. Well, we picked up the Canadians which took forever because not only was their flight delayed and the luggage apparently took a long time to come out, but they also came out a completely different exit than Francesco and I expected. So finally we headed for the Center where the Americans were staying. We met up with the Americans but the Canadians still had to check into the hostile that their friend had booked for them. So we left the Americans so they could shower and we found out when we got their that the Canadian’s friend apparently never booked their room and the hostile was full for the night. So drove back across the Center which on a Saturday night during White Night took nearly 35 minutes (and I’m sure it was no more than 3 kilometers). We met back up with the Americans who then proceeded to help the Canadians find a place to stay.
Two hours later…
We finally find a place for the Canadians to stay and it is now 11:15 (Francesco and I have not even since lunch at 1). During the search for logging, the Canadian girl (both couples were boy/girl) started having some kind of reaction on her legs. It started as just some incredibly large bug bites and slightly swollen ankles. By the time we finally made it to a restaurant… 2 hours after seeking one out, her “reaction” as we were calling it, had gotten much worse. She said it didn’t hurt too bad except for when she would bend her ankles too far and her “bites” would split open. Yeah, it really was quite disgusting. Her ankles were at least twice their normal size, huge welts that looked like sacks of pus from a rash like you would get from poison ivy were popping up (and open) all over her calves, ankles and feet, and they would randomly burst open and ooze down her leg and some of the ooze had blood in it and from the swelling (I’m guessing) her feet started turning purple and it was getting hard for her to walk.
We ate an a pretty fancy but not too expensive Mexican style restaurant but since it was already 1 by the time we sat down, the kitchen was getting ready to close and we were all just kind of past our hunger. I was really beginning to hate the Canadians. We ordered three pitchers of sangria and within the first glass and a half, I was already feeling it since I hadn’t eaten in so long. The bill with two appetizers ended up being 47 Euro and Francesco and I both said we would buy a pitcher each. Somehow, he ended up putting in 20 and I put in 10… what? Yeah, I don’t understand either. Another strike against the Canadians. The Americans were very cool and had just finished an 12 day tour of Italy and seemed to be very experienced travelers. I didn’t get the sense that they were a couple, but rather very good friends and were a blast to hang out with (both 24). The Canadian girl was really cool and I felt horrible that she was having this… whatever it was, her first day in Rome and still had 10 days of her trip left. The guy however, was a different story. He apparently wasn’t gay, but I would have laid down money that he was and he fulfilled every stereotype that gives gay men a bad rep. He was loud, out spoken, absent minded, incredibly rude to the girl as he kept laughing at her and saying that “The Europe trip is over,” and just over all being a pain.
After we ate we headed back to the American’s hostile and bid them goodnight and goodbye. Then we went in search of a hospital for Lauren which I would out later, was the real beginning of my night. We went to a hospital in the city arriving after 3 and waited there until a little after 4. This apparently is not the best hospital in Rome and the women who had checked Lauren into triage ended up telling Francesco that we would have better luck at Gemelli which is actually close to Villa. We headed all the way across town and got to Gemelli around 4:30. They took her immediately and did some blood work… that we didn’t get the results for until 7. We took them to the pharmacy to fill the prescription for Lauren, all the while Josh was complaining about how the trip was over and he was going sight seeing with or without Lauren no matter what and I seriously, in my extremely tired and grouchy state, wanted to deck him in the face and make the rest of the trip a lot easier for Lauren.
In the end, we got back to Villa at 7:30 and I was supposed to be heading with a group from Villa to San Paolo in 2 hours for the afternoon. There was just no way I would be able to keep my eyes open through mass and priests talking about the church in Italian. I very sadly scratched my name off the list and went to bed. So that was my night. Instead of seeing every museum that I possibly could in one night, filling myself to the brim with history and culture and things that I might not have the money for later, I spent it with two pretty cool Americans, a gimpy Canadian girl and an incredibly rude, loud and annoying Canadian guy. Not seeing museums, not going dancing, not bar hopping, not meeting more really cool people, not doing what I came here to do since basically the whole night I was actually playing the role of interpreter for Francesco and not speaking a lick of Italian. As much as I tried my hardest to actually enjoy myself and see it as one of those things that would make for a great story later, it really just felt like a waste and it was hard to control my disappointment as the person I really felt for was Francesco who had to do all the driving and paid for more than the should have. There was talk of going to the beach today, but seeing as it is nearly 4, I don’t believe that will happen. I am buying a ticket sometime this week for a trip to Florence next weekend to be sure that not another moment is wasted in this amazing country. Stupid Canadians.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The first rain of the voyage
*I think officially I have wished away my first Friday. Although it will be nice to have the weekend, it officially means that I have been here nearly 2 weeks already and my time is almost a 4th over. So much still to do!! Maybe I be sensible and wise enough to use my time fittingly.*
So it was the day of the strike and I really had no interest in opening my eyes and get out of bed. I hadn’t showed the night before and for a very brief instant pondered the possibility of just going without one. I then quickly remembered that it is far hotter in Italy and last night I had heard it raining outside which was to continue during the day, so it would be extra humid. I quickly showered, grabbed some breakfast, and ran out the door. I made it with 10 minutes to spare before the sciopero began so I bought some coffee and sad in my classroom to read for a while. Class went by rather quickly and I was pleased with how well I was picking up prepositions until we left the realm of prepositions for the world of reflexive verbs. Not so easy. Ah well.
After class I had nearly 4 hours to kill before I could head back to the Metro. So what did I do? Oh that’s right, I did what any self-respecting Kreidenweis male would do and had lunch with 5 women who were at least 40 or more years older than him. Four Germans and a Brit and I was set for excellent conversation and of course my fair share of being set up on dates with their granddaughters. A hilarious time accompanied by AMAZING food. We went to a trattoria (the Italian equivalent of a small café) and found that they had a lunch special of bread, a drink, a main dish (no meat), either dessert or fruit and coffee for just 10 Euros. I had the gnocchi and I was quick pleased that I had. It was like no other gnocchi I have ever had before. Picture a tomato soup (but with chunks of tomato and some kind of peppers and torn basil leaves) filled with gnocchi and then smothered in cheese and put under a broiler so that when served it almost looked like French onion soup… except… gnocchi style. I nearly cried it was so good.
Since the majority of the table was German and I made the very poor mistake of asking if the restaurant was far from the school in German, they decided it was perfectly acceptable to have a great deal of the conversation in German. Jenny (the Brit) and I would just kind of give each other this “Yeah, I have no clue what the hell they’re saying either” kind of look when they got to speaking quite quickly. However, I was surprised by just how much of the conversation I actually understood. When they were asking me about my age, where I went to school and some other mundane questions, I actually held my own relatively well in German. What made it even more challenging is that they would often remember that we were all studying Italian and would switch mid-sentence into Italian or English and then back to German and Italian and English and German… so on and so forth. Quite confusing at times.
After lunch we parted ways and I decided that even though the weather was not promising and I would likely get rained on at some point, I headed on a long walk to Villa Borghese. Where else would I want to spend 3 hours while being stranded? I made it with no real trouble of direction and just walked around while being amazed by the amount of people out and about the park even though it kept intermittently sprinkling and the sky was a perpetual gray. When it had stopped sprinkling for a long period of time and I thought it was safe, I pulled out my book and read next to a pond under a willow tree; talk about perfect reading spots, eh? Finally, I walked back to the Metro and headed back to Villa. I went for a run before dinner and it felt good since I had been sitting most of the day. I quickly showered and then after dinner I went to choir rehearsal. It ended up lasting nearly 2 hours which was a little annoying, but still fun. During rehearsal while Fabio was working with some other section, one of the girls was asking me what I did today and I started by saying that I left for school early to get there before the strike. She replied by saying “Oh yeah, I was a little surprised it didn’t actually happen today. Oh well, I’m sure there will be another one.” Great. I was “stranded” all day when the Metro never actually closed down. Oh well, it was still a very good day to walk. After rehearsal I somehow got roped into singing Ave Maria for the choir which was a little scary since I’m sure they all know that prayer in Latin far better than I do and I was worried I would forget a word or two, but I never did and they apparently liked and I was asked to sing at two of their weddings whenever they should happen. Another excellent day, natürlich.
So it was the day of the strike and I really had no interest in opening my eyes and get out of bed. I hadn’t showed the night before and for a very brief instant pondered the possibility of just going without one. I then quickly remembered that it is far hotter in Italy and last night I had heard it raining outside which was to continue during the day, so it would be extra humid. I quickly showered, grabbed some breakfast, and ran out the door. I made it with 10 minutes to spare before the sciopero began so I bought some coffee and sad in my classroom to read for a while. Class went by rather quickly and I was pleased with how well I was picking up prepositions until we left the realm of prepositions for the world of reflexive verbs. Not so easy. Ah well.
After class I had nearly 4 hours to kill before I could head back to the Metro. So what did I do? Oh that’s right, I did what any self-respecting Kreidenweis male would do and had lunch with 5 women who were at least 40 or more years older than him. Four Germans and a Brit and I was set for excellent conversation and of course my fair share of being set up on dates with their granddaughters. A hilarious time accompanied by AMAZING food. We went to a trattoria (the Italian equivalent of a small café) and found that they had a lunch special of bread, a drink, a main dish (no meat), either dessert or fruit and coffee for just 10 Euros. I had the gnocchi and I was quick pleased that I had. It was like no other gnocchi I have ever had before. Picture a tomato soup (but with chunks of tomato and some kind of peppers and torn basil leaves) filled with gnocchi and then smothered in cheese and put under a broiler so that when served it almost looked like French onion soup… except… gnocchi style. I nearly cried it was so good.
Since the majority of the table was German and I made the very poor mistake of asking if the restaurant was far from the school in German, they decided it was perfectly acceptable to have a great deal of the conversation in German. Jenny (the Brit) and I would just kind of give each other this “Yeah, I have no clue what the hell they’re saying either” kind of look when they got to speaking quite quickly. However, I was surprised by just how much of the conversation I actually understood. When they were asking me about my age, where I went to school and some other mundane questions, I actually held my own relatively well in German. What made it even more challenging is that they would often remember that we were all studying Italian and would switch mid-sentence into Italian or English and then back to German and Italian and English and German… so on and so forth. Quite confusing at times.
After lunch we parted ways and I decided that even though the weather was not promising and I would likely get rained on at some point, I headed on a long walk to Villa Borghese. Where else would I want to spend 3 hours while being stranded? I made it with no real trouble of direction and just walked around while being amazed by the amount of people out and about the park even though it kept intermittently sprinkling and the sky was a perpetual gray. When it had stopped sprinkling for a long period of time and I thought it was safe, I pulled out my book and read next to a pond under a willow tree; talk about perfect reading spots, eh? Finally, I walked back to the Metro and headed back to Villa. I went for a run before dinner and it felt good since I had been sitting most of the day. I quickly showered and then after dinner I went to choir rehearsal. It ended up lasting nearly 2 hours which was a little annoying, but still fun. During rehearsal while Fabio was working with some other section, one of the girls was asking me what I did today and I started by saying that I left for school early to get there before the strike. She replied by saying “Oh yeah, I was a little surprised it didn’t actually happen today. Oh well, I’m sure there will be another one.” Great. I was “stranded” all day when the Metro never actually closed down. Oh well, it was still a very good day to walk. After rehearsal I somehow got roped into singing Ave Maria for the choir which was a little scary since I’m sure they all know that prayer in Latin far better than I do and I was worried I would forget a word or two, but I never did and they apparently liked and I was asked to sing at two of their weddings whenever they should happen. Another excellent day, natürlich.
A lovely Thursday
*OMG two days with no blog entry!! Not to worry, it's not for lack of writing, just lack of getting to the library for internet access. Mi di spiace.*
What a beautiful day to be in Rome! I started the day as always, getting up at 7, having breakfast in the little kitchen and heading for the Metro. It has yet to do anything but be sunny while I have been in Rome and today was no exception. I am becoming more comfortable with my morning commute as I now know where I’m going and I’m starting to trust my sense of direction a little more now that I have found my way around Rome pretty well even when getting lost. Now that I am not such a novice and can actually look up from my feet to really take in the city while I’m walking about, I am starting to become more aware of my surrounds, not from a point of mistrust, but rather a sense of pleasure in really taking in the city.
Most people seem to think that the first thing you really notice about a city when you start becoming more comfortable with it is the sights and sounds, but for some reason, the firs thing that I really started to notice was how different Rome smells. It not quite the dirty smell of New York or London, but rather it is a more primal smell, the smell of bodies baking in the hot sun and of sweat and the smell of busy lives. But as with practically everything in Rome, it can surprise you. You can be walking down the street and become quite aware of the pungent body odor around you and in an instant your nostrils are filled with the smell of bread, or fruit, or even more often, the very strong smell of flowers. The air in the Metro is much the same of any big city, thick and damp, almost like breathing a syrup of air; not my favorite part of my commute.
Class went well although my classmates gave me hell because I promised I would sing for them today but it wasn’t until I was on the Metro that I realized I had forgotten my music, so I told them I would do it tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, I found out in class that I am to experience my first “sciopero” – Italian for ‘strike.’ These happen quite frequently in Italy when it comes to the public transportation system and I’m sure it won’t be the last one I have to endure while I am here. So from 8:30 to 5:00 tomorrow no public transportation will be running. This means two things, first, I will have to leave extra early for school so I can get there before the Metro stops running (risky but I have no other option), and second, I have no way to get back from school until 5. So it looks like I have a lot of time to walk around and really dig into Rome! The most difficult is that I will actually have to get some courage and actually order lunch. Until now, I have avoided this because for some reason it makes me really nervous that I’ll really screw up my order and feel like an idiot. Yeah yeah, I know, time to get over it and just do it because that’s why I’m here, right? Yes, I know.
Today after lunch I took a break while letting my Zune charge and then headed back to the city. I hate doing homework inside when it’s so nice outside and now that I’ve been to Villa Borghese, it’s really the only place in Rome that I don’t think I could ever tire of going to. In that same late, there is so much of Villa Borghese that I could go everyday while I am here and probably not see the entire park. Why waste a beautiful day? I walked around for a very long time just soaking up the sun and the happenings around me. I ventured to a side of Villa Borghese that I had not been to and was not disappointed at all that life that lay around me. I finally picked a bench and sat down to do some reading. After reading for a while I decided to head back to Villa… in a very round about way that involved taking 45 minutes to get back to the Metro.
I got back a little after 7 and since I had some time to kill, I decided I was well over due for some solid practicing. I headed for the piano which is in the large conference room, and found out to my great surprise that not only was the piano actually pretty decent, but the hall has wonderful acoustics and will be actually fun to practice in. I headed to dinner and much to my horror, I was seated directly across from the Cardinal. I do not think I have ever eaten under such nerve wracking conditions in all my life. I don’t really know why I felt such an obligation to have impeccable manners and posture, because really none of the guys here (the Cardinal included) eat with any kind of real manners. But nonetheless my back was painfully straight, my shoulders pinned back, I didn’t take forkfuls of food that were too big and I was constantly wiping my mouth. Afterwards I really felt quite ridiculous and realized that it would probably have been better had I just relaxed and not looked like such twit.
After dinner I was invited to have a couple beers in the fourth floor lounge with Francesco and some of the other guys. Before we met I fell into conversation with Gennaro and another guy named Giovanni about random stuff to do with school, life in America, my friends, ect. They showed me how to use the washers (which I still have to buy detergent for) and then showed me to a room that I had not seen yet. When Giovanni first arrived at Villa he found this room was completely empty and decided to turn it into a music room. I got some money together and bought a stereo with good speakers and eventually bought a turntable as Villa apparently has a large collection of vinyl. However, this is no ordinary listening room, it in fact is filled with nothing but classical recordings, some I’m sure you cannot even find anymore without a very experienced eye for finding such things. He played for me a 1930’s recording of the Berlin Philharmonic performing Bach’s “St. Matthew’s Passion.” It was incredible and made even more so by the fact that I was standing in a room with someone who found equal pleasure for it as I did. A rare find in a person and one I certainly cherish here at Villa. We talked more of music and recordings he said I could borrow (his two favorite composers are Verdi and Puccini. Yay opera!!) and eventually parted ways.
I headed for the lounge and ended up laughing a great deal before the beer even arrived. Apparently Peroni is the Italian version of Miller Lite, but even so, it was good. It was quite an amusing time because they would get into long strings of conversation in Italian and then suddenly remember that I was still there and fill me in on what was being said. Around 1 I decided that since I actually did have class in the morning and had to get up extra early to make it there before the strike began, I should probably head for bed. A very good day followed by an equally good night.
What a beautiful day to be in Rome! I started the day as always, getting up at 7, having breakfast in the little kitchen and heading for the Metro. It has yet to do anything but be sunny while I have been in Rome and today was no exception. I am becoming more comfortable with my morning commute as I now know where I’m going and I’m starting to trust my sense of direction a little more now that I have found my way around Rome pretty well even when getting lost. Now that I am not such a novice and can actually look up from my feet to really take in the city while I’m walking about, I am starting to become more aware of my surrounds, not from a point of mistrust, but rather a sense of pleasure in really taking in the city.
Most people seem to think that the first thing you really notice about a city when you start becoming more comfortable with it is the sights and sounds, but for some reason, the firs thing that I really started to notice was how different Rome smells. It not quite the dirty smell of New York or London, but rather it is a more primal smell, the smell of bodies baking in the hot sun and of sweat and the smell of busy lives. But as with practically everything in Rome, it can surprise you. You can be walking down the street and become quite aware of the pungent body odor around you and in an instant your nostrils are filled with the smell of bread, or fruit, or even more often, the very strong smell of flowers. The air in the Metro is much the same of any big city, thick and damp, almost like breathing a syrup of air; not my favorite part of my commute.
Class went well although my classmates gave me hell because I promised I would sing for them today but it wasn’t until I was on the Metro that I realized I had forgotten my music, so I told them I would do it tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, I found out in class that I am to experience my first “sciopero” – Italian for ‘strike.’ These happen quite frequently in Italy when it comes to the public transportation system and I’m sure it won’t be the last one I have to endure while I am here. So from 8:30 to 5:00 tomorrow no public transportation will be running. This means two things, first, I will have to leave extra early for school so I can get there before the Metro stops running (risky but I have no other option), and second, I have no way to get back from school until 5. So it looks like I have a lot of time to walk around and really dig into Rome! The most difficult is that I will actually have to get some courage and actually order lunch. Until now, I have avoided this because for some reason it makes me really nervous that I’ll really screw up my order and feel like an idiot. Yeah yeah, I know, time to get over it and just do it because that’s why I’m here, right? Yes, I know.
Today after lunch I took a break while letting my Zune charge and then headed back to the city. I hate doing homework inside when it’s so nice outside and now that I’ve been to Villa Borghese, it’s really the only place in Rome that I don’t think I could ever tire of going to. In that same late, there is so much of Villa Borghese that I could go everyday while I am here and probably not see the entire park. Why waste a beautiful day? I walked around for a very long time just soaking up the sun and the happenings around me. I ventured to a side of Villa Borghese that I had not been to and was not disappointed at all that life that lay around me. I finally picked a bench and sat down to do some reading. After reading for a while I decided to head back to Villa… in a very round about way that involved taking 45 minutes to get back to the Metro.
I got back a little after 7 and since I had some time to kill, I decided I was well over due for some solid practicing. I headed for the piano which is in the large conference room, and found out to my great surprise that not only was the piano actually pretty decent, but the hall has wonderful acoustics and will be actually fun to practice in. I headed to dinner and much to my horror, I was seated directly across from the Cardinal. I do not think I have ever eaten under such nerve wracking conditions in all my life. I don’t really know why I felt such an obligation to have impeccable manners and posture, because really none of the guys here (the Cardinal included) eat with any kind of real manners. But nonetheless my back was painfully straight, my shoulders pinned back, I didn’t take forkfuls of food that were too big and I was constantly wiping my mouth. Afterwards I really felt quite ridiculous and realized that it would probably have been better had I just relaxed and not looked like such twit.
After dinner I was invited to have a couple beers in the fourth floor lounge with Francesco and some of the other guys. Before we met I fell into conversation with Gennaro and another guy named Giovanni about random stuff to do with school, life in America, my friends, ect. They showed me how to use the washers (which I still have to buy detergent for) and then showed me to a room that I had not seen yet. When Giovanni first arrived at Villa he found this room was completely empty and decided to turn it into a music room. I got some money together and bought a stereo with good speakers and eventually bought a turntable as Villa apparently has a large collection of vinyl. However, this is no ordinary listening room, it in fact is filled with nothing but classical recordings, some I’m sure you cannot even find anymore without a very experienced eye for finding such things. He played for me a 1930’s recording of the Berlin Philharmonic performing Bach’s “St. Matthew’s Passion.” It was incredible and made even more so by the fact that I was standing in a room with someone who found equal pleasure for it as I did. A rare find in a person and one I certainly cherish here at Villa. We talked more of music and recordings he said I could borrow (his two favorite composers are Verdi and Puccini. Yay opera!!) and eventually parted ways.
I headed for the lounge and ended up laughing a great deal before the beer even arrived. Apparently Peroni is the Italian version of Miller Lite, but even so, it was good. It was quite an amusing time because they would get into long strings of conversation in Italian and then suddenly remember that I was still there and fill me in on what was being said. Around 1 I decided that since I actually did have class in the morning and had to get up extra early to make it there before the strike began, I should probably head for bed. A very good day followed by an equally good night.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A relatively simple day in Rome
All in all it was a pretty uneventful day. That sounds so awful since I am in Rome and I should using everyday to go explore and check off more and more things on my list of life experiences, but then again, when living in a foreign country, should you not at least once in a while just live like they do? “When in Rome…” Yeah yeah… all that crap. It’s a pretty lame excuse, but I for some reason have not slept for two nights in a row (perhaps the backlash of jet lag?) and today it started to wear on me a great deal.
Class was good and I am realizing that I really enjoy my classmates. The girl from Brazil, Maitê, sat with me during our break between lessons in the garden and we chatted a great deal. This girl has been everywhere! Her Father owns a business that he moved to Miami, Florida for a while so that’s where she learned English, she learned Spanish because as a little girl she loved watching Spanish soap operas, she learned French because her Father speaks it and demanded that she and her sister learn as well. She got extra practice on all these languages because she lived for a year in a boarding school in France for international students. She’s only 18!! She’s also quite funny and it was nice to feel so comfortable while at school.
After class I came back and had lunch then went on a walk with some of the guys around the Villa gardens (always an adventure with them, involving a lot of laughter). We went back inside and Antonio asked me to help him with his English homework. This was a great relief to me (in a very selfish way) to see someone struggling with a foreign language like myself. After we finished his work he asked if I wanted to read a book in Italian. This is something I have been planning on doing since before I came, so I accepted his invitation to the library (which he has the keys to). Mostly classical literature and Italian translations of scholarly essays, it was hard to find something that I could actually stand a chance at even getting past the first sentence. *For Dr. Bob: they had Dante but Antonio suggested against it since Dante’s wording is quite complex.
We finally decided on two books, one a French book translated into Italian (which Antonio thought would help because the translation would be more simply worded) called Memorie di Andriano by Marguerite Yourcenar which is true story about a man and his homosexual relations… interesting? We shall see. The other is an Italian novel called Il deserto dei Tartari by Dino Buzzati. I have yet to figure out what this book is about, but hopefully I will soon get the gist. I was also given two dictionaries, one that is Italian to English and English to Italian (this book is enormous and weighs at least 10 pounds) and another that has Italian words and English translations throughout. Very helpful.
After this trip to the library I headed back to my room to let my Zune charge and to read for a while before I finally went out for a run. I left at 4:30 which was a poor choice since the sun was incredibly hot. I went to the pine forest that is across the street from Villa (not really a forest but rather a park with lots of very tall pine trees). There was a good amount of shade under the trees but on the other side of the trees is a huge open field with lots of hills and winding pathways through the long grass. I ventured away from the forest into the crispy grass with thin pathways flecked with old people taking leisurely strolls in the sun. The sun beat down on my arms and I suddenly desperately wished that I had a tan so I would not burn.
The field was amazing and it weaved around hills and suddenly came to the top where you could see a great deal of the city, including a clear view of Saint Peter’s. I suddenly felt as if I were a child peeking into some taboo place or event, as if I had sneaked up behind Rome and taken it by surprise with my sudden appearance at the top of the hill. I stopped running for a time and took in the sight. It’s a great thing to behold Rome in such a grand fashion. You think of Rome and you think of Italy, and for me at least, it is not until I really draw myself up and open my mind that I really think about the former might and strength of Rome. The solitary hand that once gripped multiple nations and huge masses of land and people and had the power to control all it touched with but a finger of command. Yes, a great and overwhelming thing to behold. I continued running.
After lunch I had been invited by Luigi (another guy on my floor) to possibly play tennis at 6:30 for a while before dinner. He ended up not coming to get me and for that I was very grateful. The sun had nearly killed me and I desperately wanted to take a shower before dinner since I felt like a salt lick. I made my first mistake at Villa by showing up to dinner in flip flops which apparently is taboo because the Cardinal wants at least some show of respect in clothing. Luckily for me, he was not at dinner and I was kindly informed by Gabriele of this apparent rule. In class today we were assigned some homework out of our book and strangely, I’m almost grateful. In a very odd sense, I feel like having some sort of responsibility for my studies is in a way validating my being here. I am surrounded by guys who study a great deal and work on their schooling just as hard as I do, and to not take part in some of that was making feel kind of like a slacker. But at least now I have a real reason to go to the library, aside from just updating my blog and whatnot. Ciao!
p.s. I write all these entries like a journal I'm keeping on Word. I'm only using 11 point font and it's already 23 pages long :-)
Class was good and I am realizing that I really enjoy my classmates. The girl from Brazil, Maitê, sat with me during our break between lessons in the garden and we chatted a great deal. This girl has been everywhere! Her Father owns a business that he moved to Miami, Florida for a while so that’s where she learned English, she learned Spanish because as a little girl she loved watching Spanish soap operas, she learned French because her Father speaks it and demanded that she and her sister learn as well. She got extra practice on all these languages because she lived for a year in a boarding school in France for international students. She’s only 18!! She’s also quite funny and it was nice to feel so comfortable while at school.
After class I came back and had lunch then went on a walk with some of the guys around the Villa gardens (always an adventure with them, involving a lot of laughter). We went back inside and Antonio asked me to help him with his English homework. This was a great relief to me (in a very selfish way) to see someone struggling with a foreign language like myself. After we finished his work he asked if I wanted to read a book in Italian. This is something I have been planning on doing since before I came, so I accepted his invitation to the library (which he has the keys to). Mostly classical literature and Italian translations of scholarly essays, it was hard to find something that I could actually stand a chance at even getting past the first sentence. *For Dr. Bob: they had Dante but Antonio suggested against it since Dante’s wording is quite complex.
We finally decided on two books, one a French book translated into Italian (which Antonio thought would help because the translation would be more simply worded) called Memorie di Andriano by Marguerite Yourcenar which is true story about a man and his homosexual relations… interesting? We shall see. The other is an Italian novel called Il deserto dei Tartari by Dino Buzzati. I have yet to figure out what this book is about, but hopefully I will soon get the gist. I was also given two dictionaries, one that is Italian to English and English to Italian (this book is enormous and weighs at least 10 pounds) and another that has Italian words and English translations throughout. Very helpful.
After this trip to the library I headed back to my room to let my Zune charge and to read for a while before I finally went out for a run. I left at 4:30 which was a poor choice since the sun was incredibly hot. I went to the pine forest that is across the street from Villa (not really a forest but rather a park with lots of very tall pine trees). There was a good amount of shade under the trees but on the other side of the trees is a huge open field with lots of hills and winding pathways through the long grass. I ventured away from the forest into the crispy grass with thin pathways flecked with old people taking leisurely strolls in the sun. The sun beat down on my arms and I suddenly desperately wished that I had a tan so I would not burn.
The field was amazing and it weaved around hills and suddenly came to the top where you could see a great deal of the city, including a clear view of Saint Peter’s. I suddenly felt as if I were a child peeking into some taboo place or event, as if I had sneaked up behind Rome and taken it by surprise with my sudden appearance at the top of the hill. I stopped running for a time and took in the sight. It’s a great thing to behold Rome in such a grand fashion. You think of Rome and you think of Italy, and for me at least, it is not until I really draw myself up and open my mind that I really think about the former might and strength of Rome. The solitary hand that once gripped multiple nations and huge masses of land and people and had the power to control all it touched with but a finger of command. Yes, a great and overwhelming thing to behold. I continued running.
After lunch I had been invited by Luigi (another guy on my floor) to possibly play tennis at 6:30 for a while before dinner. He ended up not coming to get me and for that I was very grateful. The sun had nearly killed me and I desperately wanted to take a shower before dinner since I felt like a salt lick. I made my first mistake at Villa by showing up to dinner in flip flops which apparently is taboo because the Cardinal wants at least some show of respect in clothing. Luckily for me, he was not at dinner and I was kindly informed by Gabriele of this apparent rule. In class today we were assigned some homework out of our book and strangely, I’m almost grateful. In a very odd sense, I feel like having some sort of responsibility for my studies is in a way validating my being here. I am surrounded by guys who study a great deal and work on their schooling just as hard as I do, and to not take part in some of that was making feel kind of like a slacker. But at least now I have a real reason to go to the library, aside from just updating my blog and whatnot. Ciao!
p.s. I write all these entries like a journal I'm keeping on Word. I'm only using 11 point font and it's already 23 pages long :-)
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Tuesday - A day of amazing history
So truthfully, today was really my first day of class. My class is now only seven people consisting of three women from Germany, one girl from Brazil (who is only 18 and can speak fluently in Portugese, Spanish, French and English, so Italian really is no big deal to her), one guy from Japan who is learning Italian so he can make better business for his jewelry line, a woman from English (near Brussels), and of course, me. It is a pretty cool class and we work well together. Our teacher, Laura, is very nice and is kind enough to annunciate and speak slowly to make sure we all understand. I get the slight sense that I’m the underdog in this room, save for maybe the guy from Japan, but it’s a good environment for me to be in since I work best under pressure. In the end, it’s fun and even in though it’s only my first real day, I think I’m going to enjoy the challenge.
After class I rushed back to Villa to catch the end of lunch. There were other guys who also came late so luckily, I did not have to eat alone. Antonio said today would be our first trek out together for him to show me Rome. We decided to meet at 4 and so we did. It was incredible how much he knows about Rome and its history. It makes sense of course that he would know so much since he is about to finish his degree in art history, but even so, this guy is a complete encyclopedia to Ancient Rome. We started at San Pietro (St. Peter’s Basilica). Never in my life have I seen such an amazing man made structure. Certainly the collaboration between Michelangelo and Bernini caught some essence of God and the workings of Heaven in this great hall of artistic masterpiece. I say masterpiece in the singular since in this place, there is no collection of art, but rather, the entire place is a work of art in and of itself. Every painting, sculpture, statue, wall, ceiling, marble floor piece, column, etc. was simply a part of a grand piece of creativity and unworldly imagination.
Perhaps the most startling part of this place was the vibes. They truly came up through the floor, from the walls, down from the ceilings, everywhere. After walking around the basilica, we ventured down into the tombs where there are many popes and cardinals laid to rest, including John Paul II. Certainly you at some point in your life have felt grass between your toes or sand piling up around your feet, or even snow freezing yet plush beneath your soles. This was the feeling of the vibes coming from this place. They were so thick, so full of silent history wanting to come alive, so rich in emotion and understanding and anger and confusion and happiness, defeat, victory and a myriad of human emotion that it was if they had some sort of tangibility. It was elating and unnerving at the same time.
After this, we ventured to many other places including Piazza Venezia and the Colosseum (WOW!!), the Pantheon, the Forum, Piazza del Popolo, the Spanish Steps, Villa Borghese, and also (finally!) Giolitti’s!! Piazza Venezia (which I had found on my own a couple days ago) was much more interesting (although I’m amazed that it could be since I thought that just looking at it was cool) with an art historian telling me all about it. He told me all about the different ruins and what they used to be and of course the history behind them. We then walked down to the Colosseum (which is right behind Piazza Venezia) which I then got a huge earful of history on that. The Colosseum really is all they say it is. Not only is it made amazing by the fact that it is surrounded by such a historically rich area, but it’s just, huge and amazing and old and just, cool. We didn’t go inside because it is apparently 8 Euros and I told him I could go by myself sometime.
After the Colosseum we headed over to Giolitti’s!! I was very excited to finally be going to the oldest (and supposedly best) gelateria in Rome. Amazingly, it was not as crowded as it has been every time I have passed it so we got our gelato relatively quickly. I had strachiaterra (I think it might be chocolate chip but I’m not really sure, all I really know is that it was really good), biscotto (cookies), and frutta di bosca (blackberry). Yes, if you were wondering, it really is all it’s cracked up to be and it was by far and away the best gelato I have had yet. Most gelaterias put a big scoop of fresh whipped cream on top of your gelato and of course Giolitti’s is no exception. However, they also don’t skimp. I’m sure on this cone (yes, cone) there had to have been at least half a pint of gelato if not slightly more and of course a huge dollop of cream. Sadly (or perhaps luckily) when we walked out, my dollop of cream slid off my gelato and onto my shoe (luckily not my new ones). But even creamless, it was amazing.
We then headed for Spanish Steps which nearly killed me as I had just eaten my weight in gelato. But we climbed to the top and then walked along the outer edge of Villa Borghese which is a huge park in Rome that lies against a huge hill that overlooks the city. There is a spot in front of a huge garden where there lies a terrace, and on this terrace, you can take a perfect panoramic shot of practically all of Rome. I think this made up for me forgetting my camera in Ariccia. Bellissimo. We headed back to Villa while talking of politics and our favorite periods in history and periods of art and music. It was truly a wonderful day and certainly one I cannot forget or keep out of my mind.
First day of class
*I wrote this late last night so this is an account of Monday*
First day of class! Since I jumped the gun a little bit last week I did not have to arrive at Torre di Babele until noon, unlike the rest of my class that had to arrive at 9 to take the entrance exam. Torre di Babele is very close to University City which houses Rome’s largest university which is Sapienza. This campus is the largest of three that are part of Rome University and it has roughly 150,000 students; take that OSU! So in any case, a lot of the guys at Villa study at Sapienza, so it was not hard to find someone who was going in that direction the same time I was. I was accompanied by a guy on my floor named Angelo. He has a basic understanding of English but is one of the students who will soon have to take their English examination test so he is eager to be around me. It’s an even exchange of understanding and confusion and laughter which leaves us both feeling awkward and comforted by the fact that we both have trouble with each other’s native tongue.
I exited at Politicano which is the stop before his, so we bid each other good day and I went to school. I arrived well in advance of my class but there was a lot of confusion since it was the first day of classes for many others as well. The first meeting of the day was an orientation about Rome which was slightly helpful but nice because everyone seemed to be on a basic understanding of their surroundings. There were two meetings, one in English and one in Italian. In the English meeting there were 6 Germans, 3 Australians, 1 New Zealander, 1 Brit and 2 Americans, myself included. After our orientation we had an hour break and then a lesson. Since it was the first day my class was big with about 14 or 15 people. We were split into two classes that would start the next day, one group in the morning and one in the afternoon (almost all of the afternoon people were very disappointed at this), and luckily, I got to be in the morning. The class was brief but after doing some exercises on introducing ourselves (which I absolutely hate, whether in English or Italiano, they just suck and I felt like I was back in high school drama class trying to play charades with my name) we dove right into work on our book.
After class as I was walking back to the Metro stop, I ran into a girl from my class, one of the Australians. I had pinned her for being a bit of a whiner and the moment we started talking (as we were going to the same Metro stop), I immediately knew I had her just right. She tried to get switched into the morning class after already being annoyed that the fact that she had to (and I quote) “demote herself to such simple things as will discussed in our level 2 class.” I was suddenly very glad that she was not in my class. But other than that, she was relatively nice and at least amicable toward me. She invited me to go out for her birthday which is next Monday. I appreciated the offer although later I realized I would probably never see her again since our classes did not overlap in time and her cell phone was stolen two days ago. I late appreciated this lack of communication.
I was very tired as I had woken up very early (why, I have no idea) so I had planned to head back to Villa, but as should happen when in a foreign country, my curiosity go the best of me. Angelo had told me that I should eventually go to Piazza di Popolo which is near a Metro stop called Flaminio. I got off at Flaminio and then never made it to Piazza di Popolo. I was too amazed by the park that stretched out endlessly next to the Metro. It was beautiful and I couldn’t help but to continue walking. There were children playing, couples laying on blankets, old men watching the time pass, parents and children riding in pedal cars, people in boats on the pond, gardens that lay about in sunken terraces, trees offering abundant shade, the whole scene was truly out of a book and I had trouble containing myself while taking it all in. I was truly taken aback by the smell of flowers that seemed to be the air itself as the scent was so strong.
After walking around and enjoying my fill of smiling strangers and the laughing of children, I found a bench under a tree and pulled out my book. Being in such a beautiful and mystical place certainly made picturing the lands of Avalon much easier to picture. I thought about pulling out my headphones to listen to music until I realized that everything going on about me was music in itself. The combination of laughter, the water, the wind against the leaves, the soft tread of leisurely walking footsteps, the heavy breathing of passing joggers, and of course the abundance of the Italian language being spoken by all passers was a complete symphony and I had no need for the composed music of those who probably got a great deal of their inspiration from being in situations such as the one I was currently in. Truly, the most pure form of music I have yet to hear.
After tiring and rapidly becoming very aware of my stomach (since my first day prevented me from having lunch at Villa, I had to suffice with just an apple which I had eaten 4 hours ago), I decided to head back toward the Metro, very slowly. I made it back to Villa with enough time to taken a short rest then head to dinner. After dinner my friend Antonio took me to his room to give me a lesson on the geography of Italy. We were soon joined by Gabriele who wanted to show me pictures of his trip to Sardegna which apparently is the most beautiful seaside town in all of Italy (pink sand?!). It was then apparently time for a spot of limoncello which was then accompanied by an invitation for late night gelato. I decided it was time to try some fruity flavors since I have been mostly sticking to abundant varieties of chocolate and biscotti. I had a combination of lemon, strawberry and amareno cherry. They were all good but I have a seriously weakness for amareno cherries, so it was by far my favorite.
Feeling like an incredible glutton, we headed back to Villa where for some reason I tossed and turned for a good part of the night. Oddio.
First day of class! Since I jumped the gun a little bit last week I did not have to arrive at Torre di Babele until noon, unlike the rest of my class that had to arrive at 9 to take the entrance exam. Torre di Babele is very close to University City which houses Rome’s largest university which is Sapienza. This campus is the largest of three that are part of Rome University and it has roughly 150,000 students; take that OSU! So in any case, a lot of the guys at Villa study at Sapienza, so it was not hard to find someone who was going in that direction the same time I was. I was accompanied by a guy on my floor named Angelo. He has a basic understanding of English but is one of the students who will soon have to take their English examination test so he is eager to be around me. It’s an even exchange of understanding and confusion and laughter which leaves us both feeling awkward and comforted by the fact that we both have trouble with each other’s native tongue.
I exited at Politicano which is the stop before his, so we bid each other good day and I went to school. I arrived well in advance of my class but there was a lot of confusion since it was the first day of classes for many others as well. The first meeting of the day was an orientation about Rome which was slightly helpful but nice because everyone seemed to be on a basic understanding of their surroundings. There were two meetings, one in English and one in Italian. In the English meeting there were 6 Germans, 3 Australians, 1 New Zealander, 1 Brit and 2 Americans, myself included. After our orientation we had an hour break and then a lesson. Since it was the first day my class was big with about 14 or 15 people. We were split into two classes that would start the next day, one group in the morning and one in the afternoon (almost all of the afternoon people were very disappointed at this), and luckily, I got to be in the morning. The class was brief but after doing some exercises on introducing ourselves (which I absolutely hate, whether in English or Italiano, they just suck and I felt like I was back in high school drama class trying to play charades with my name) we dove right into work on our book.
After class as I was walking back to the Metro stop, I ran into a girl from my class, one of the Australians. I had pinned her for being a bit of a whiner and the moment we started talking (as we were going to the same Metro stop), I immediately knew I had her just right. She tried to get switched into the morning class after already being annoyed that the fact that she had to (and I quote) “demote herself to such simple things as will discussed in our level 2 class.” I was suddenly very glad that she was not in my class. But other than that, she was relatively nice and at least amicable toward me. She invited me to go out for her birthday which is next Monday. I appreciated the offer although later I realized I would probably never see her again since our classes did not overlap in time and her cell phone was stolen two days ago. I late appreciated this lack of communication.
I was very tired as I had woken up very early (why, I have no idea) so I had planned to head back to Villa, but as should happen when in a foreign country, my curiosity go the best of me. Angelo had told me that I should eventually go to Piazza di Popolo which is near a Metro stop called Flaminio. I got off at Flaminio and then never made it to Piazza di Popolo. I was too amazed by the park that stretched out endlessly next to the Metro. It was beautiful and I couldn’t help but to continue walking. There were children playing, couples laying on blankets, old men watching the time pass, parents and children riding in pedal cars, people in boats on the pond, gardens that lay about in sunken terraces, trees offering abundant shade, the whole scene was truly out of a book and I had trouble containing myself while taking it all in. I was truly taken aback by the smell of flowers that seemed to be the air itself as the scent was so strong.
After walking around and enjoying my fill of smiling strangers and the laughing of children, I found a bench under a tree and pulled out my book. Being in such a beautiful and mystical place certainly made picturing the lands of Avalon much easier to picture. I thought about pulling out my headphones to listen to music until I realized that everything going on about me was music in itself. The combination of laughter, the water, the wind against the leaves, the soft tread of leisurely walking footsteps, the heavy breathing of passing joggers, and of course the abundance of the Italian language being spoken by all passers was a complete symphony and I had no need for the composed music of those who probably got a great deal of their inspiration from being in situations such as the one I was currently in. Truly, the most pure form of music I have yet to hear.
After tiring and rapidly becoming very aware of my stomach (since my first day prevented me from having lunch at Villa, I had to suffice with just an apple which I had eaten 4 hours ago), I decided to head back toward the Metro, very slowly. I made it back to Villa with enough time to taken a short rest then head to dinner. After dinner my friend Antonio took me to his room to give me a lesson on the geography of Italy. We were soon joined by Gabriele who wanted to show me pictures of his trip to Sardegna which apparently is the most beautiful seaside town in all of Italy (pink sand?!). It was then apparently time for a spot of limoncello which was then accompanied by an invitation for late night gelato. I decided it was time to try some fruity flavors since I have been mostly sticking to abundant varieties of chocolate and biscotti. I had a combination of lemon, strawberry and amareno cherry. They were all good but I have a seriously weakness for amareno cherries, so it was by far my favorite.
Feeling like an incredible glutton, we headed back to Villa where for some reason I tossed and turned for a good part of the night. Oddio.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Just a quick update
So I don't have much time to update right now because I usually pre-write my blogs and then post them when I can get to the library but that has yet to happen for today. I also have been invited for a late night trek out for some fabulous gelato and more bonding time with the guys. YAY!!
It was a lovely first day of classes and I am also the only American in my class... great.
More later when I have time to write something good! Ciao!
It was a lovely first day of classes and I am also the only American in my class... great.
More later when I have time to write something good! Ciao!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Sunday's Exploration
*Note: I wrote this yesterday (Sunday) so forgive the different tenses*
This morning I woke earlier than I expected to be able to after a night of such extreme merriment. Everyone seemed to be occupied with certain things this morning. The hallway was quiet and it wasn’t until I remembered that it was Sunday that I could actually figure out why, church. I went in exploration for the kitchen where they usually have breakfast. My memory served me well from my first day when Francesco had showed it to me. I grabbed some milk, a piece of sweet bread and an orange that I had snagged from lunch the day before and munched them down in my room. I was not yet in the mood to trek about the city so instead I went back outside to the garden and continued filling my head with thoughts of Avalon (I am currently reading “The Mists of Avalon” by Marion Zimmer Bradley). *I plan on buying a book in Italian as soon as I can get my nerve up to actually go into a bookstore and ask for what I’m looking for.
After some time in the garden I went to the library do some posting (as you saw) and to check email, etc. Then I headed for lunch which I ate with Padre Samuele and a new student who I found out is going to studying at Torre di Babele! He is from Italy but he is studying to become a teacher of Italian for foreigners like myself at a language school. It will be nice to have at least familiar face tomorrow when my classes start. Since tomorrow is the first day of class, I do not have to be there until the orientation meeting at 12 which will last until 1 and then I have class until 4:40. This does however mean that I will miss lunch at Villa. So hopefully the new guy can help me order lunch if he isn’t busy… otherwise I might be slightly screwed… or just look like a typical American tourist… damn.
Walking into lunch today was quite funny as when I came into the room everyone started laughing, clapping and asking how I enjoyed the previous night. After lunch some of the guys decided to take me on a tour of the Villa gardens. We talked a lot sports to which I was pleasantly surprised by how well I could fake knowing what I was talking about. At 2 I headed back to the library for a previously schedule Skype date with my parents. Of course it was Mother’s Day, so it made good reason to retreat from the guys for a while and chat it up with the parents. After a lengthy conversation I decided it was time to hit the city. I got sidetracked on my way back to my room by a couple guys watching the Grande Prix… quite boring… I didn’t stay long. But they did invite me to watch the Milan vs. Juventus match that was taking place tonight. So I at least had something to do after dinner.
I decided it was time to go back to the center and take pictures of all the things Francesco had showed me on day #1. I made it to my destination and was amazed to find that I actually remembered exactly how to get to the Fontana di “”. I took loots of pictures today. Every time I would turn my camera off, I would instantly find something interesting and have to turn it back on. I went through two batteries but thankfully had spares in my bag. I don’t think I will ever finish being amazed at just how many churches there are all over Rome. The best part is not only are they all different, they’re all beautiful and most are open to the public. I went to the Forum, I passed Giolitti’s, and then I saw something down a street that looked particularly cool. I walked well out of my way and suddenly found myself in front of huge structure that was swarming with people. There were statues everywhere, horses, men clad in armor, angels, pillars, huge staircases… what could it be? I kept walking around trying to find a sign and while I walking I was amazed to find myself in the middle of ruins… lots of ruins.
There were excavation sites that you could actually go into, huge walls falling apart, another huge church and yet still this huge and amazingly decorated structure that I had yet to indentify. Finally on the side of the building was an entry way and at the top of two very large doors was a sign etched into the marble that read “Museo Centrali del Risorgimento.” Incredible. I kept walking around the winding street that wrapped behind it and low and behold, more ruins. Huge ruins. Truly there were ruins as far as I could see. I walked up the back staircase which wrapped back around to the front. People covered every inch of the place like flies on spilled soda. I got some incredible pictures, but of course they are pictures that can never recreate what I got to see with my own eyes. I did not get so far, but in the distance I could actually see the Coloseum. I could have easily walked to it but since I am housing with several art history and architecture majors, why would I go without one of them who can fill me in on gobs of history while taking in every detail? There will be time later.
I decided to walk around the streets for a bit longer as I still had plenty of time before dinner. This is a slightly foolish thing to do in Rome since the streets can be quite tricky. Needless to say, I got lost. Very lost. Luckily, getting lost in Rome (at least while in daylight) is not so bad since there is always something to look at. Finally, after a long while of walking, I came across a sign that pointed me in the direction of Piazza Barberini (my Metro stop). I walked in that general direction until I finally came upon the stop. Twice in one day I had passed Giolitti’s thinking that I should stop in and grab some gelato. But both times the line was out the door and not moving in any sort of quick fashion. Not to worry, I will get there soon enough.
I made it back to Villa in time to take a quick nap before dinner… the dinner that did not exist. Apparently no one informed me that we are on our own for dinner on Sundays. Luckily, the cooks leave the leftovers from lunch out for us, so I wasn’t completely dead in the water. I ate some supper and then went to watch the first part of the match. It was quite obvious that Milan was going to murder Joventus so I decided to go watch a movie with some other people (they watch a movie of some importance every Sunday evening on a projector). It was called Doubt, staring Meryl Streep. Obviously I understood very little, but I got the basic gist of the story. I went back to my room with the sincere hope of getting a good night sleep before my first day of classes in the morning.
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