Tues 27 Jan
*********Sunday***********
Checkout time was 10:30 a.m.
We left the hostel probably by 12:30, which I'd say isn't too bad.
We set an alarm for 10 a.m., honestly we did. But then, our eyes wouldn't open and we were back to sleep for another half hour. I have to hand it to us though, we did actually get up at 10:30, all of us completely dead, dazed, and for those of us (me) who hadn't showered since Wednesday night, smelly. (***Writer's note: for all future trips that include a stay in a hostel, BRING A TRAVEL TOWEL.) Except for Kristin, who somehow awoke looking completely peaceful and well rested.
Nick wanted to go to Sunday mass and St. Croce was right around the corner. No one else was up for it, but at this point I must have had some kind of adrenaline rush and was pretty awake so I went with him, just for kicks.
St. Croce was really beautiful, and really freezing, on the inside and outside. I guess it's not exactly easy to heat a huge, cavernous building. We got there for the 11 a.m. mass and the entire service, as expected, was in Italian. Nick told me the songs were all the same tunes but with different words. I was prepared to sit when the others went up for commune and shake hands with everyone around me while saying "pace" (because I have no idea what the translation for "peace be with you" would be in Italian–yet) from the cues I had remember when I went to mass that one time with Bri-Bri in her hometown.
After the service, Nick and I met the others who had just finished breakfast. Kristin's roommate from home, Dana, had met up with them for food. We got our stuff and checked out of the hostel and Dana suggested we try out what was really the best gelato in Italy. Only about a block from our apartment, this place called Gelateria di Neri was one my roommate Jenny here in Viterbo had told me I absolutely had to go to in Firenze, but realized after I got there I had no idea where it was or how to find it. I guess it was just another crazy even that fell perfectly into place this weekend.
Best gelato in Italy is right, and doesn't do justice to how good this stuff was. It only reinforces times 1,000 that we have nothing like it in the states. I had cioccolato e strawberry, and oh god was it fantastic. After we finished, we bought our train tickets and went to kill a couple hours at that everyday market.
Our last perfect coincidence happened there. We were walking around, buying gifts for ourselves and everyone back home, when at some point, Lauren and I fell behind the others. When we caught up, there they were talking to none other than Sam, the awesome 18-year-old from Vermont. He took us to an amazing kebab and felafel place where we filled ourselves for the trip, and then we left for the train.
The ride back was filled with journal writing, music listening, and sleep catching-up-on. On Monday, I slept until noon, which is the latest I've slept since I've been here. A weekend immortalized in photos and remembered just as vividly as when it happened, for sure.
*********Monday***********
Back in class, not thrilled. It was also Chinese and Korean New Year? I had completely forgotten about that this year, but we do have a few Koreans on our trip and people who keep up with stuff like that better than I do, so it was Asian Night at Christine's apartment. With the week before being American Night and the week after probably having something to do with Groundhog's Day, I'm sensing a trend.
More vegetarian food for us veggies, but this night it even dominated the meal. Peanut butter noodles and some kind of thai soy sauce rice noodle dish, plus rice balls, plus Pocky (!!) which is called Mikado and some Nutella, because we can't avoid it, for dessert, plus the most wine bottles I've seen drank and finished off in one location at one time, and it was a good night.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Firenze! Part III
Tues 27 Jan 2009
After a few days off so my brain could settle, I'm back to finish up recording the saga that was my weekend in Firenze.
**********Saturday*********
We woke up at 10:30 in the morning to meet Lauren, Felicia and Kristin at the train station, but we just couldn't do it so we went back to sleep until 11. Fortunately, the layover for their train was longer than we all expected and we were able to meet them right when they got to the station in Firenze. Kristin went to meet up with her roommate from CP, who was on one of those programs where you live in every important city for two weeks and was currently in the week of Firenze. Apparently Brad Mighdoll, a fellow jour major at College Park, was there too, but we never saw him.
The morning (or more realistically, afternoon) started out with lunch at a cafe we found to soak up everything in our stomachs. Everyone else got pizza, but I opted for a tonno salad and it was probably the best cheap meal I had in Firenze. Partly because the tonno was fantastic and partly because it contained the sweetest, ripest tomatoes I've ever tasted.
After we filled ourselves, we headed to the Uffizi via the area where the Fonta di Neptune was standing, so the other girls could see it. In the piazza next to it, we took pictures posing as the statues in a quasi-sculpture garden near the fountain.
We spent at least two hours in the Uffizi, spliting up into groups of one or two pretty early so we could follow our own paces and only meeting up at the end. The huge building is just filled with art. Honestly, I didn't think any of it was awful, though some pieces were completely breathtaking. (Nothing, of course, as perfect as the David.) There was so much inside that it became such a blur I can barely remember seeing the famous Venus in a clamshell, and I do which I had spent more time in whichever of the 3,000 rooms that was in. I loved seeing the sculptures though, and more old old art like from the other museums, and some slightly newer and quite impressive art.
We were out of the Uffizi by 16:50 and ready to head over to the Duomo as it began to get dark. Following the MTV-bible, we were looking to climb its 400-some odd steps at night, which is supposed to be the most gorgeous and therefore, we figured, the most rewarding time to go.
Well, we should've studied our bible a bit more closely. The Duomo closed at 17:00 on Saturdays and wasn't open for climbing at all on Sundays, so we had lost our window for the weekend. We were all pretty disappointed; I think Chelsea and I were perhaps the most bummed, but we took solace in knowing it's just another reason we need to come back to Firenze before we leave Europa this semester (some other reasons being exploring the other side of the Ponte Vecchio, giving the others a chance to see the David, and celebrating St. Patty's Day at the Lion's Fountain Irish Pub).
With our pre-dinner plan nixed, we went to find gelato instead. The supposed best gelato in Italy place was impossible to find as a result of it being listed in two different locations, one from the MTV-bible and one on our newer, 2009 edition tourist map from the hostel, and also as a result of it not actually being in either of those locations. Instead, we found a different gelato place that looked good (not difficult in Firenze) and were satisfied there instead. FYI, just because a gelato is called "pistachio e ricotta" is no reason to write it off; that stuff was amazing.
Stomachs full of gelato, we went to pass the rest of the time before dinner having some prosecco at the Lion's Fountain. We had some glasses and some good hanging out time, and it would have been perfect if not for the worst failure ever in the Maryland-Duke men's basketball game.
Kristin and I were anxious to find out how the game was going, but I didn't want to waste a 50 cent text to just to find out the game wasn't over yet or it was over with bad news bears. We worked up courage and asked one of the bartenders to change a TV to ESPN just for a minute. He was a nice guy and said it was no problem.
We wished it would have been a problem.
He turned the channel on just in time for Nick, Kristin and I to watch UMD lose to in the last few minutes of the game against Duke with literally half the points Duke had scored. It was time to drink some red wine and get some good food.
Which leads me to probably the most delicious, and definitely the most expensive meal I've had so far. We shared a lot of food and ordered dishes that were all more or less the exact same price, so we split the bill evenly and it came to 30 euro per person. For me, that included my share of the two bottles of red wine we drank, two bottles of aqua, some fondue cheese veggie thing that was not at all what I expected and about 10 times as delicious, gnocchi con pomodoro e mozzerella, and tastes of all the other dishes people got that were vegetarian. Oh, and the standard bread, plus free leftover fresh pizza crust that they brought out for us, complements of the kitchen.
Full as possible, we headed out for the night. We stumbled (not yet literally) across a little place with cheap drinks that looked like a good place to start. A couple rounds of very weak, very cheap shots and everyone's personal choice of drink later (mine was a Mexican coffee, basically coffee with some Bailey's and similar things in it, and yummy) we found our next bar.
We headed to the Red Garter, a place near our hostel that we had passed earlier and had karaoke on Monday nights. It was more of a bar then a club, but we're fun gals, and we just wanted to dance. We positioned ourselves near the DJ booth and went to town. Pretty soon, a bunch of other people joined us. Pretty soon, we were ready to move on to an actual club.
The club we went to, I can't remember the name of, but I will remember as my first Jagerbomb. Also, an awesome night of dancing with eachother, completely randomly running into Brooks again (the first time was at the Shot Cafe the night before) and dancing with random, and often attractive but sometimes smelly and a bit too stereotypical, italiani. When my knees and feet couldn't take it anymore, I met Nick over at the Duomo where we sat and talked for just a few minutes before heading back to the others and the hostel. Nick and I made it to the Duomo ridiculously late every night we were in Firenze; the others gained the title of staying at that last club until they were kicked out because it was closing.
Six of us crammed into our room in the hostel, which was hilarious as was everything else that was said or done at 5 a.m. An awesome, grand end to our weekend in Firenze, and definitely one of the top weekends in my existence.
After a few days off so my brain could settle, I'm back to finish up recording the saga that was my weekend in Firenze.
**********Saturday*********
We woke up at 10:30 in the morning to meet Lauren, Felicia and Kristin at the train station, but we just couldn't do it so we went back to sleep until 11. Fortunately, the layover for their train was longer than we all expected and we were able to meet them right when they got to the station in Firenze. Kristin went to meet up with her roommate from CP, who was on one of those programs where you live in every important city for two weeks and was currently in the week of Firenze. Apparently Brad Mighdoll, a fellow jour major at College Park, was there too, but we never saw him.
The morning (or more realistically, afternoon) started out with lunch at a cafe we found to soak up everything in our stomachs. Everyone else got pizza, but I opted for a tonno salad and it was probably the best cheap meal I had in Firenze. Partly because the tonno was fantastic and partly because it contained the sweetest, ripest tomatoes I've ever tasted.
After we filled ourselves, we headed to the Uffizi via the area where the Fonta di Neptune was standing, so the other girls could see it. In the piazza next to it, we took pictures posing as the statues in a quasi-sculpture garden near the fountain.
We spent at least two hours in the Uffizi, spliting up into groups of one or two pretty early so we could follow our own paces and only meeting up at the end. The huge building is just filled with art. Honestly, I didn't think any of it was awful, though some pieces were completely breathtaking. (Nothing, of course, as perfect as the David.) There was so much inside that it became such a blur I can barely remember seeing the famous Venus in a clamshell, and I do which I had spent more time in whichever of the 3,000 rooms that was in. I loved seeing the sculptures though, and more old old art like from the other museums, and some slightly newer and quite impressive art.
We were out of the Uffizi by 16:50 and ready to head over to the Duomo as it began to get dark. Following the MTV-bible, we were looking to climb its 400-some odd steps at night, which is supposed to be the most gorgeous and therefore, we figured, the most rewarding time to go.
Well, we should've studied our bible a bit more closely. The Duomo closed at 17:00 on Saturdays and wasn't open for climbing at all on Sundays, so we had lost our window for the weekend. We were all pretty disappointed; I think Chelsea and I were perhaps the most bummed, but we took solace in knowing it's just another reason we need to come back to Firenze before we leave Europa this semester (some other reasons being exploring the other side of the Ponte Vecchio, giving the others a chance to see the David, and celebrating St. Patty's Day at the Lion's Fountain Irish Pub).
With our pre-dinner plan nixed, we went to find gelato instead. The supposed best gelato in Italy place was impossible to find as a result of it being listed in two different locations, one from the MTV-bible and one on our newer, 2009 edition tourist map from the hostel, and also as a result of it not actually being in either of those locations. Instead, we found a different gelato place that looked good (not difficult in Firenze) and were satisfied there instead. FYI, just because a gelato is called "pistachio e ricotta" is no reason to write it off; that stuff was amazing.
Stomachs full of gelato, we went to pass the rest of the time before dinner having some prosecco at the Lion's Fountain. We had some glasses and some good hanging out time, and it would have been perfect if not for the worst failure ever in the Maryland-Duke men's basketball game.
Kristin and I were anxious to find out how the game was going, but I didn't want to waste a 50 cent text to just to find out the game wasn't over yet or it was over with bad news bears. We worked up courage and asked one of the bartenders to change a TV to ESPN just for a minute. He was a nice guy and said it was no problem.
We wished it would have been a problem.
He turned the channel on just in time for Nick, Kristin and I to watch UMD lose to in the last few minutes of the game against Duke with literally half the points Duke had scored. It was time to drink some red wine and get some good food.
Which leads me to probably the most delicious, and definitely the most expensive meal I've had so far. We shared a lot of food and ordered dishes that were all more or less the exact same price, so we split the bill evenly and it came to 30 euro per person. For me, that included my share of the two bottles of red wine we drank, two bottles of aqua, some fondue cheese veggie thing that was not at all what I expected and about 10 times as delicious, gnocchi con pomodoro e mozzerella, and tastes of all the other dishes people got that were vegetarian. Oh, and the standard bread, plus free leftover fresh pizza crust that they brought out for us, complements of the kitchen.
Full as possible, we headed out for the night. We stumbled (not yet literally) across a little place with cheap drinks that looked like a good place to start. A couple rounds of very weak, very cheap shots and everyone's personal choice of drink later (mine was a Mexican coffee, basically coffee with some Bailey's and similar things in it, and yummy) we found our next bar.
We headed to the Red Garter, a place near our hostel that we had passed earlier and had karaoke on Monday nights. It was more of a bar then a club, but we're fun gals, and we just wanted to dance. We positioned ourselves near the DJ booth and went to town. Pretty soon, a bunch of other people joined us. Pretty soon, we were ready to move on to an actual club.
The club we went to, I can't remember the name of, but I will remember as my first Jagerbomb. Also, an awesome night of dancing with eachother, completely randomly running into Brooks again (the first time was at the Shot Cafe the night before) and dancing with random, and often attractive but sometimes smelly and a bit too stereotypical, italiani. When my knees and feet couldn't take it anymore, I met Nick over at the Duomo where we sat and talked for just a few minutes before heading back to the others and the hostel. Nick and I made it to the Duomo ridiculously late every night we were in Firenze; the others gained the title of staying at that last club until they were kicked out because it was closing.
Six of us crammed into our room in the hostel, which was hilarious as was everything else that was said or done at 5 a.m. An awesome, grand end to our weekend in Firenze, and definitely one of the top weekends in my existence.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Photos! Phinally!
Sorry that took forever, but I finally put photos up! They're completely out of order and not at all organized yet, but you can look at them now and for an explanation later. Check out the link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/manda_face/
And, stay tuned for parts III and IV (aka Saturday and Sunday) from this weekend in Firenze! My eyes died from typing at the screen so the rest will have to come in a few days.
Ciao!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/manda_face/
And, stay tuned for parts III and IV (aka Saturday and Sunday) from this weekend in Firenze! My eyes died from typing at the screen so the rest will have to come in a few days.
Ciao!
Firenze! Part II
Sun 25 Jan 2009
*********Friday***********
Friday was bittersweet, having to leave the hostel. In retrospect, we probably should have gotten everyone's contact information, but at that point we didn't really think about it. I do vaguely remember telling Crystal to friend me on Facebook when we got back to the hostel, so I guess I'll see when I get some internet if that happened.
Nick, Chelsea and I got up at the ungodly 7 a.m. to start our day, which, after the night before, gave us about four hours of sleep. That would soon turn out to be the theme of the weekend. Surprisingly, Sam was up getting free breakfast the same time we were. We parted ways, hoping to one day see each other again.
The three of us headed out right after we ate in search of Michelangelo's The David. We hadn't bought tickets ahead of time and wanted to make sure we got to see it. After some misled wandering, we ended up at Accademia where the statue is housed. We'd been warned of hours-long lines and the need to purchase tickets ahead of time with a specific appointment given to you on them. Instead, we arrived at the museum to no lines, hardly any people at all in fact, and the ability to get right in and power walk towards the statue. Which also proved to be unnecessary, because, as I said, there was pretty much no one there.
Seeing the David is for certain my favorite, most memorable part of the weekend. They don't let you take pictures, but I doubt I'd need them anyway with the mental shots I'm left with. I knew it was an incredible work of art, but somehow the knowledge of the sheer size of the statue had eluded me until this day. It's absolutely huge. It's immaculate and perfect, up on a pedestal and as big as Goliath, not David, should have been. For me, it was literally breathtaking. I must have spent at least 15 minutes just gazing at it, and that's not including the time I took to look at it when I passed back through the room to get to to the other end of the museum. If there's any one bit of sightseeing that I would tell someone to do while in Firenze, it would be seeing the David, hands down.
The rest of the museum wasn't very large and didn't take us much more than an hour to get through. After, we went to St. Lucia (?) cathedral and museum, which, like Accademia, housed an immense collection of art that dated at least back to the early 1600s and at most back to the early 1300s. Which really is awing and nobling and made me think, partly about the sheer age and time the art had gone through and partly about how everything, every single piece of art we saw, was at least religious and almost entirely Christian. A lot of really interesting discussions and lessons about religion went on this weekend.
After the cathedral/museo we were ready for lunch. The MTV Europe bible guided us to an inexpensive, tiny (especially while lugging our huge travel backpacks) ristorante with amazing food and a really good vino rosso della casa. Another theme of the weekend would soon become ordering (at least) a bottle of red wine with every meal.
Full of food, we walked to the Duomo. We planned to wait to walk the 460-some odd steps until Lauren, Kristin and Felicia arrived the next day, but we couldn't help but look inside. That building is insane. After some contemplating and discussing, we decided that the building wasn't just so awing because it was so, so old, though that was certainly a part of it. It was also, we realized, because the Duomo is so massive on the outside, but it's also massive on the inside. Instead of being like a skyscraper in New York that's gigantic from the outside but once you step inside your head is only so far from the ceiling, inside the Duomo was so cavernous (and, of course, maddeningly gorgeous) that it's immense size was still visible and undeniable from inside the building. And that was a quite the architectural marvel to see, especially considering how long ago it was made.
After the Duomo it was starting to rain a bit and we went to go find our hostel so we could ditch our huge backpacks for the rest of the night. The lack of sleep caught up to us, or at least tried to, when we checked in. Our room was supposed to be for five people, but only had four beds at that point. We were just starting to fall asleep on three of them when two of the guys who worked there knocked to see bring in the last bed. We started to nod off again as they finished, but were awakened by a knock from a jock-ish looking kid who was also staying at the hostel.
His name was Blake, he was from Michigan, he was staying with 11 other kids who were studying in Roma, and he came in to say hi and meet us. He told us they were going out later and him and Nick exchanged numbers so we could meet up with them later. Nick called him later that night, Blake didn't pick up and we never saw or heard from him again, thus earning him the nickname of Blake the Flake for every future time I'll tell this story.
We met up with Kayla, Carrie, Alex and John for some pre-dinner drinks at a cafe. Prosecco, which is basically champagne, is a big before dinner drink for women in italia, and in Firenze it became a staple for us pretty quickly (or in Nick's case, a glass of red wine). For dinner we went to a place Kayla and Carrie had heard about from their hostel. The ristorante had a prizze fisse menu, and we were so stuffed with amazing food we couldn't do dessert.
We went to the Lion's Fountain for drinks after, which we came across randomly and where we toasted to Firenze. We split up afterwards; Nick, Chelsea and I were ready to take on a Firenze bar crawl, Kayla and Carrie went back to their hostel after dinner and Alex and John peaced after drinks.
We stumbled onto the grand opening of a packed club and a couple other places. It was pretty late at night when, like the night before, we came back across the Duomo, lit up gorgeously at night. With just the three of us, we were trying, pretty unsuccessfully, to take a picture of ourselves and the Duomo. A group of about six girls were passing by, and, in uncertain English, asked, "Do you want? Us? Take photo? Of you?"
"Si, si, photo, grazie!" we replied. And after, "You want? Us? Take photo? Of you?"
"Yes, si, thank you!" they said. Then, grazie's and ciao's were exchanged as we parted ways. But while they were still within hearing range, Chelsea sighed, "I love Italy."
The girls' heads snapped back. "You speak English?" they asked, seemingly shocked.
Well, yeah we do. They laughed and told us our italian had been so good they thought we were italian. I have to say, it was a good ego boost after only two weeks of Italian language class ever for Chelsea and me. We walked with them while trying to (unsuccessfully) find the Shot Cafe again, but instead came across a cheap diner-type place that was still open selling breakfast and beer after 3 a.m. Right next door held what would become our first visit to a Firenze club. We lost those other girls somewhere, but had an awesome time dancing with each other and italians for the rest of the night. On the way back to our hostel, we went on the doomed adventure to if we could find Sam, which we must have subconsciously known would be unsuccessful. We got back to the hostel after 4 a.m. and passed out so we could be ready to meet Lauren, Felicia and Kristin at the train station the next day before 11 a.m.
*********Friday***********
Friday was bittersweet, having to leave the hostel. In retrospect, we probably should have gotten everyone's contact information, but at that point we didn't really think about it. I do vaguely remember telling Crystal to friend me on Facebook when we got back to the hostel, so I guess I'll see when I get some internet if that happened.
Nick, Chelsea and I got up at the ungodly 7 a.m. to start our day, which, after the night before, gave us about four hours of sleep. That would soon turn out to be the theme of the weekend. Surprisingly, Sam was up getting free breakfast the same time we were. We parted ways, hoping to one day see each other again.
The three of us headed out right after we ate in search of Michelangelo's The David. We hadn't bought tickets ahead of time and wanted to make sure we got to see it. After some misled wandering, we ended up at Accademia where the statue is housed. We'd been warned of hours-long lines and the need to purchase tickets ahead of time with a specific appointment given to you on them. Instead, we arrived at the museum to no lines, hardly any people at all in fact, and the ability to get right in and power walk towards the statue. Which also proved to be unnecessary, because, as I said, there was pretty much no one there.
Seeing the David is for certain my favorite, most memorable part of the weekend. They don't let you take pictures, but I doubt I'd need them anyway with the mental shots I'm left with. I knew it was an incredible work of art, but somehow the knowledge of the sheer size of the statue had eluded me until this day. It's absolutely huge. It's immaculate and perfect, up on a pedestal and as big as Goliath, not David, should have been. For me, it was literally breathtaking. I must have spent at least 15 minutes just gazing at it, and that's not including the time I took to look at it when I passed back through the room to get to to the other end of the museum. If there's any one bit of sightseeing that I would tell someone to do while in Firenze, it would be seeing the David, hands down.
The rest of the museum wasn't very large and didn't take us much more than an hour to get through. After, we went to St. Lucia (?) cathedral and museum, which, like Accademia, housed an immense collection of art that dated at least back to the early 1600s and at most back to the early 1300s. Which really is awing and nobling and made me think, partly about the sheer age and time the art had gone through and partly about how everything, every single piece of art we saw, was at least religious and almost entirely Christian. A lot of really interesting discussions and lessons about religion went on this weekend.
After the cathedral/museo we were ready for lunch. The MTV Europe bible guided us to an inexpensive, tiny (especially while lugging our huge travel backpacks) ristorante with amazing food and a really good vino rosso della casa. Another theme of the weekend would soon become ordering (at least) a bottle of red wine with every meal.
Full of food, we walked to the Duomo. We planned to wait to walk the 460-some odd steps until Lauren, Kristin and Felicia arrived the next day, but we couldn't help but look inside. That building is insane. After some contemplating and discussing, we decided that the building wasn't just so awing because it was so, so old, though that was certainly a part of it. It was also, we realized, because the Duomo is so massive on the outside, but it's also massive on the inside. Instead of being like a skyscraper in New York that's gigantic from the outside but once you step inside your head is only so far from the ceiling, inside the Duomo was so cavernous (and, of course, maddeningly gorgeous) that it's immense size was still visible and undeniable from inside the building. And that was a quite the architectural marvel to see, especially considering how long ago it was made.
After the Duomo it was starting to rain a bit and we went to go find our hostel so we could ditch our huge backpacks for the rest of the night. The lack of sleep caught up to us, or at least tried to, when we checked in. Our room was supposed to be for five people, but only had four beds at that point. We were just starting to fall asleep on three of them when two of the guys who worked there knocked to see bring in the last bed. We started to nod off again as they finished, but were awakened by a knock from a jock-ish looking kid who was also staying at the hostel.
His name was Blake, he was from Michigan, he was staying with 11 other kids who were studying in Roma, and he came in to say hi and meet us. He told us they were going out later and him and Nick exchanged numbers so we could meet up with them later. Nick called him later that night, Blake didn't pick up and we never saw or heard from him again, thus earning him the nickname of Blake the Flake for every future time I'll tell this story.
We met up with Kayla, Carrie, Alex and John for some pre-dinner drinks at a cafe. Prosecco, which is basically champagne, is a big before dinner drink for women in italia, and in Firenze it became a staple for us pretty quickly (or in Nick's case, a glass of red wine). For dinner we went to a place Kayla and Carrie had heard about from their hostel. The ristorante had a prizze fisse menu, and we were so stuffed with amazing food we couldn't do dessert.
We went to the Lion's Fountain for drinks after, which we came across randomly and where we toasted to Firenze. We split up afterwards; Nick, Chelsea and I were ready to take on a Firenze bar crawl, Kayla and Carrie went back to their hostel after dinner and Alex and John peaced after drinks.
We stumbled onto the grand opening of a packed club and a couple other places. It was pretty late at night when, like the night before, we came back across the Duomo, lit up gorgeously at night. With just the three of us, we were trying, pretty unsuccessfully, to take a picture of ourselves and the Duomo. A group of about six girls were passing by, and, in uncertain English, asked, "Do you want? Us? Take photo? Of you?"
"Si, si, photo, grazie!" we replied. And after, "You want? Us? Take photo? Of you?"
"Yes, si, thank you!" they said. Then, grazie's and ciao's were exchanged as we parted ways. But while they were still within hearing range, Chelsea sighed, "I love Italy."
The girls' heads snapped back. "You speak English?" they asked, seemingly shocked.
Well, yeah we do. They laughed and told us our italian had been so good they thought we were italian. I have to say, it was a good ego boost after only two weeks of Italian language class ever for Chelsea and me. We walked with them while trying to (unsuccessfully) find the Shot Cafe again, but instead came across a cheap diner-type place that was still open selling breakfast and beer after 3 a.m. Right next door held what would become our first visit to a Firenze club. We lost those other girls somewhere, but had an awesome time dancing with each other and italians for the rest of the night. On the way back to our hostel, we went on the doomed adventure to if we could find Sam, which we must have subconsciously known would be unsuccessful. We got back to the hostel after 4 a.m. and passed out so we could be ready to meet Lauren, Felicia and Kristin at the train station the next day before 11 a.m.
Firenze! Part I
Sun 25 Jan 2009
This weekend. Firenze. Wow.
If there were ever an ideal way to spend my first weekend trip in Europe, this was it. As is frequently the case, I think the best place to start here is the beginning.
********Thursday*********
After some last-minute hostel planning and people skipping out because weather.com called for supposed thunderstorms the entire weekend (all lies, it was cloudy and did rain a bit on Friday and Saturday but that was it), the original plan was for Nick, Chelsea, Lauren Smith, Kristin and I to stay in a hostel in Florence. Kayla and Carrie were going too, with different housing arrangements, as were John and Alex from upstairs and possibly Felicia and Hailey.
Walking back from getting some focaccia bread at Ipercoop with Chelsea after class Thursday evening, I saw John and Alex on the way to our building. They asked if I had bought my train ticket yet. Nope, I was gonna get one from a machine disgustingly early the next morning, like the others, I told them. They told me that might not work so well. They were walking back from buying their train tickets, where they found out the trains to Firenze would be going on strike the next morning, so if we wanted to get there it would either have to be that night, on the last train that left in an hour and a half, or not until Saturday.
Let me explain a little something about trains in Italia. It seems that sometimes, they all decide to go on strike and somehow everyone just knows about it. Except, of course, for foreigners. Then they strike for a day or so without any (of us) knowing the exact reason, realize they need money, and go back to work by the next day, the latest. So we were assured this weekend that we'd be able to get back to Viterbo perfectly fine, which we were, but that beginning getting to Firenze part might be a challenge.
I called Nick to let him know, since the hostel was booked under his name and credit card. In about 20 minutes, the decision was made, and I had a little under an hour to stuff my backpack and run to Porta Fiorentina to catch the train. That was the easy part. Actually, most of this weekend was the easy part–the entire time, things just fell into place.
I walked to the train with Alex, John, Jacky and Lauren Hansen (henceforth referred to as FL, but don't ask) to meet the others. None of us had planned for being in Firenze Thursday night, so none of us yet had a place to stay. From some probably divine intervention, Nick had previously procured a 2007 edition of an MTV Europe guidebook, which, by the end of the weekend, became our bible. It listed one hostel, and while waiting at our lay-over between trains, we called, and they had availability for the seven of us. So we would not be spending the first night in Firenze sleeping on history-filled sidewalks.
We numbered seven with all those mentioned in the previous paragraph plus Chelsea. We called Lauren Smith probably about 30 times, but she was in class and her phone was off so she didn't make the train. We felt pretty awful about it, but it was hard to fight the adrenaline rush from what was already turning into quite the adventure. Stefano had told us right: Things are more often than not going to follow your plans while traveling, so be ready to go with the flow.
Karma from following his advice gave us in Nick, a guide with an impeccable ability to read MTV Europe's map of Firenze. He navigated us from the train station to our hostel a few blocks away without taking any wrong turns.
When we got there, the place was completely covered with art. Copies of old masters, kept true to the real pieces and altered slightly. The staircase and hallways by the rooms might have had off-white paint underneath, but it was hard to tell for sure through all the "Mike was here" and "UMD 4/25/2007" scrawled in Sharpie across the walls.
We hadn't been in the hostel for more than 5 minutes and hadn't even checked in yet when a girl came down a hallway and asked, with hope in her eyes and probably overhearing us, "Do you speak English?" in an excited, slightly Canadian-accented voice.
She turned out to be Crystal (or Kristen?), a Canadian girl about my height with dark brown hair that just passed her shoulders and dark brown eyes to match. She was thrilled to find out we did, in fact, parliamo inglese. As far as the English language went, the hostel had been filled with her plus many, many guys and an inevitable testosterone overload. We got our rooms, then came back downstairs to meet the guys she'd been hanging out with.
Thus began our first night in Firenze, and some of the most awesome people I've ever known for only a day. It was my first hostel experience, and after it I totally understood why people love them and stay there. Yes, it's because they're cheap (this one was 18 euro a night, came with free wifi and computers in a public space and in each room, free breakfast, free pasta party dinner, and two walking tours daily) but it's also completely, entirely because of the people.
Our crew for the night was our gal from Canada, Andrew the Aussie, Sam the coolest 18-year-old ever from Vermont, Adam the 30-something from California, a couple other guys from the states including a kid from Huntington (!!), and a couple Brits who didn't come out with us, but instead spent the night playing poker at the hostel. It was 23:30, we'd been traveling since 19:00, and we'd just arrived in Firenze. It was time to go out.
After some walking aimlessly (bars and clubs are harder to find here than you'd think), we ended up in front of the Shot Cafe and decided to go in. We'd spent the time walking just getting to know each other. Crystal had turned down a job offer in Canada to take a couple months traveling in Europe. Adam had taken a long vacation from his job to do the same. Sam, like Adam, had just bought a plane ticket and flew to Europe. Sam was just out of high school and felt like taking some time before college to travel by himself for a while. He wore two hemp beaded necklaces, a black beanie and a worn looking maroon wool ski sweater. And, he wrote his own rhymes, one of which he busted out at the Shot Cafe when I asked him about it. I love being able to study in Viterbo and travel all over, but in a sense, I was jealous of all of them for just being able to take a few months to travel the world solo.
It was an amazing night, just getting to hang out with this group that had all met up completely randomly. We had one thing in common, at least: we were young, we had the time, we wanted to have fun and enjoy everything that came at us, and we were in Firenze.
This weekend. Firenze. Wow.
If there were ever an ideal way to spend my first weekend trip in Europe, this was it. As is frequently the case, I think the best place to start here is the beginning.
********Thursday*********
After some last-minute hostel planning and people skipping out because weather.com called for supposed thunderstorms the entire weekend (all lies, it was cloudy and did rain a bit on Friday and Saturday but that was it), the original plan was for Nick, Chelsea, Lauren Smith, Kristin and I to stay in a hostel in Florence. Kayla and Carrie were going too, with different housing arrangements, as were John and Alex from upstairs and possibly Felicia and Hailey.
Walking back from getting some focaccia bread at Ipercoop with Chelsea after class Thursday evening, I saw John and Alex on the way to our building. They asked if I had bought my train ticket yet. Nope, I was gonna get one from a machine disgustingly early the next morning, like the others, I told them. They told me that might not work so well. They were walking back from buying their train tickets, where they found out the trains to Firenze would be going on strike the next morning, so if we wanted to get there it would either have to be that night, on the last train that left in an hour and a half, or not until Saturday.
Let me explain a little something about trains in Italia. It seems that sometimes, they all decide to go on strike and somehow everyone just knows about it. Except, of course, for foreigners. Then they strike for a day or so without any (of us) knowing the exact reason, realize they need money, and go back to work by the next day, the latest. So we were assured this weekend that we'd be able to get back to Viterbo perfectly fine, which we were, but that beginning getting to Firenze part might be a challenge.
I called Nick to let him know, since the hostel was booked under his name and credit card. In about 20 minutes, the decision was made, and I had a little under an hour to stuff my backpack and run to Porta Fiorentina to catch the train. That was the easy part. Actually, most of this weekend was the easy part–the entire time, things just fell into place.
I walked to the train with Alex, John, Jacky and Lauren Hansen (henceforth referred to as FL, but don't ask) to meet the others. None of us had planned for being in Firenze Thursday night, so none of us yet had a place to stay. From some probably divine intervention, Nick had previously procured a 2007 edition of an MTV Europe guidebook, which, by the end of the weekend, became our bible. It listed one hostel, and while waiting at our lay-over between trains, we called, and they had availability for the seven of us. So we would not be spending the first night in Firenze sleeping on history-filled sidewalks.
We numbered seven with all those mentioned in the previous paragraph plus Chelsea. We called Lauren Smith probably about 30 times, but she was in class and her phone was off so she didn't make the train. We felt pretty awful about it, but it was hard to fight the adrenaline rush from what was already turning into quite the adventure. Stefano had told us right: Things are more often than not going to follow your plans while traveling, so be ready to go with the flow.
Karma from following his advice gave us in Nick, a guide with an impeccable ability to read MTV Europe's map of Firenze. He navigated us from the train station to our hostel a few blocks away without taking any wrong turns.
When we got there, the place was completely covered with art. Copies of old masters, kept true to the real pieces and altered slightly. The staircase and hallways by the rooms might have had off-white paint underneath, but it was hard to tell for sure through all the "Mike was here" and "UMD 4/25/2007" scrawled in Sharpie across the walls.
We hadn't been in the hostel for more than 5 minutes and hadn't even checked in yet when a girl came down a hallway and asked, with hope in her eyes and probably overhearing us, "Do you speak English?" in an excited, slightly Canadian-accented voice.
She turned out to be Crystal (or Kristen?), a Canadian girl about my height with dark brown hair that just passed her shoulders and dark brown eyes to match. She was thrilled to find out we did, in fact, parliamo inglese. As far as the English language went, the hostel had been filled with her plus many, many guys and an inevitable testosterone overload. We got our rooms, then came back downstairs to meet the guys she'd been hanging out with.
Thus began our first night in Firenze, and some of the most awesome people I've ever known for only a day. It was my first hostel experience, and after it I totally understood why people love them and stay there. Yes, it's because they're cheap (this one was 18 euro a night, came with free wifi and computers in a public space and in each room, free breakfast, free pasta party dinner, and two walking tours daily) but it's also completely, entirely because of the people.
Our crew for the night was our gal from Canada, Andrew the Aussie, Sam the coolest 18-year-old ever from Vermont, Adam the 30-something from California, a couple other guys from the states including a kid from Huntington (!!), and a couple Brits who didn't come out with us, but instead spent the night playing poker at the hostel. It was 23:30, we'd been traveling since 19:00, and we'd just arrived in Firenze. It was time to go out.
After some walking aimlessly (bars and clubs are harder to find here than you'd think), we ended up in front of the Shot Cafe and decided to go in. We'd spent the time walking just getting to know each other. Crystal had turned down a job offer in Canada to take a couple months traveling in Europe. Adam had taken a long vacation from his job to do the same. Sam, like Adam, had just bought a plane ticket and flew to Europe. Sam was just out of high school and felt like taking some time before college to travel by himself for a while. He wore two hemp beaded necklaces, a black beanie and a worn looking maroon wool ski sweater. And, he wrote his own rhymes, one of which he busted out at the Shot Cafe when I asked him about it. I love being able to study in Viterbo and travel all over, but in a sense, I was jealous of all of them for just being able to take a few months to travel the world solo.
It was an amazing night, just getting to hang out with this group that had all met up completely randomly. We had one thing in common, at least: we were young, we had the time, we wanted to have fun and enjoy everything that came at us, and we were in Firenze.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
inauguration nite!
Wed 21 Jan 2009
Monday night was American night, which Christine cooking about 40 tiny hamburger patties at her apartment. A few guys thought the burgers were a bit too wimpy and brought some giant patties of their own. When I say giant, I mean about the size of seven or eight McDonald's big Macs put together. Plus a whole bun, onions, tomato, lettuce, and ketchup. I didn't see them actually eat the burgers, but I'm told that it happened.
Kally and I, the vegetarians, have veggie burgers. Considering I'm still not entirely sure what they were made out of, but them were pretty good when Christine prepared them. It was good to know, at least, that some vegetarian options carry over from the US.
Tuesday was Beth's birthday, but also came with much anticipation for the inauguration. I brought my laptop with me to SMG so I could stay updated throughout the day. My jaw dropped at the photos on cnn.com–I knew the mall in DC would be packed with people, but I hadn't thought about it enough to actually picture the thousands literally upon thousands clamoring around the Washington monument, looking like thousands upon thousands of ants running around an anthill.
Still, I had two classes to get through. My 5:30 date with Chelsea to do our homework (70 words about our best friend, and yes, Stacey, I wrote about you) was put off when we realized my culture class ended at 5:30 and the inauguration proceedings would start at the same time. But even before that, I had my first renaissance class and the first culture class with the other professor, aka NOT the one who hates Under the Tuscan Sun but has some masochistic wish to teach it anyway.
Professor Kittel, who teaches the renaissance in italy class, has a surprisingly strong presence for such a small woman. She has short black hair cut into somewhat of a messy bob, glasses that probably aren't from this decade, and little care for a fashion sense. And yet, slight as she is (her jaw protrudes from how thin she is and she can't be taller than my mom) just her stature seems to commandeer so much respect. She has such passion for her subject and reads aloud, as she puts it, as fast as the italians talk. She speaks English just as fast.
We were minutes into class when I knew it's going to be the most difficult class I'll be taking here, but for sure also the most interesting and rewarding. She had only just started her introduction to the renaissance when I knew she would be the most fascinating professor. She strings words together when she speaks in the most thought provoking ways. And, like the antithesis of most professors, she admitted to not knowing the exact date of an event in a war (to which, she said, "I know, it's shocking that I'm a history professor and I haven't memorized every single date) and still managed to improve her credibility.
I know I just rambled on about a professor for two paragraphs, but when I was sitting in that first class with her I was thinking of what Chelsea had said a day early when we were discussing the benefits and downfalls of tutoring italiani in inglese while in Viterbo: "I'm here on vacation," she said. At the time, I had been in complete, unwavering agreement, but as that idea kept running through my head during Kittel's class, I couldn't help but feel the exact opposite. Yes, I'm in Viterbo for a break from American life. But I'm also here to get a chance to think about things differently and explore new ideas. It may sound cheesy and bookwormish, but I realized I'm really stoked to learn while I'm here. As a result and in spite of the six books we have to read during the semester and the five kilometer walk I'll have to take in a few weeks.
Renaissance class totally pumped me up for the half hour between classes, as I daydreamed about all the junk I'd be learning. Also, I was pretty high on an Obama rush, anticipating the inauguration. It made culture class a bit difficult to sit through, but I did enjoy the change in professor and chance to actually learn about italiano culture, history and politics instead of one woman's fictional idea of Tuscany.
5:30 p.m. came with a mad rampage of the entire class through the tiny italian doorway out of the classroom, out of the university and onto the streets. We sped back into the cover of the city walls and across town to get to the bar where about half of USAC was already sitting and watching Biden get sworn in. The owner of the bar/ristorante had been nice enough to give up part of his pausa pronzo to stay open so we could watch, and he even found a channel on the TV in inglese for us.
Like many of the others, I ordered a drink (a Salvatore for me, it was a dark beer and really good) and stood by the bar while a good half of us filled up every chair on the side of the ristorante with the TV. Watching Aretha Franklin sign the national anthem (in that hat??) was good comic relief. I was surprised how moved I was by the quartet playing "Gift to be Simple," but I guess the moment got the better of me. But when Obama was sworn in and during his speech, I couldn't stop smiling. It was impossible.
And I wasn't the only one. I looked around the room to see a few of the girls actually crying with happiness, and others gazing humbly with awe at the television screen. For a moment, it was strange and sad to realize I wasn't at home, in the US, in DC, watching this happen. I thought about people at home watching it happen at the exact same time. I imagined how amazing it would have been to be back working at CBS that day. But I realized that, for the majority of the time, I hadn't even thought about the fact that I wasn't in the United States as this historic event was happening. Standing in the packed bar, with a cold beer and my friends in italia, I might as well have been in the western hemisphere. I felt just as though I was in America with friends as I stood in the bar in Viterbo with friends.
It really was an amazing night. I could tell as it was happening that it would be one of those events where I'd forever remember every detail of exactly where I was while it was happening, only not because of some awful context like how I vividly remember the entire day of 9/11. And, even more amazing, Aaron took us to a small hole-in-the-wall place that made donor kebabs where Kally, Kittel's daughter and I were able to get some ridiculously delicious felafel.
Today was good as well, because with Alex from Maryland I met a couple italian students at the universita and had a chance to talk and practice inglese e italiano back and forth. Other than the italian students that some USAC kids live with, these were really the first italians from the university that I met and had a chance to talk to, which was really cool. But even throughout the day, the synapses in my brain would randomly fire and I'd flashback to the night before and how amazing it felt to know that I left America with George W. Bush as president, but I'd be returning to a country led by Barack Obama.
Monday night was American night, which Christine cooking about 40 tiny hamburger patties at her apartment. A few guys thought the burgers were a bit too wimpy and brought some giant patties of their own. When I say giant, I mean about the size of seven or eight McDonald's big Macs put together. Plus a whole bun, onions, tomato, lettuce, and ketchup. I didn't see them actually eat the burgers, but I'm told that it happened.
Kally and I, the vegetarians, have veggie burgers. Considering I'm still not entirely sure what they were made out of, but them were pretty good when Christine prepared them. It was good to know, at least, that some vegetarian options carry over from the US.
Tuesday was Beth's birthday, but also came with much anticipation for the inauguration. I brought my laptop with me to SMG so I could stay updated throughout the day. My jaw dropped at the photos on cnn.com–I knew the mall in DC would be packed with people, but I hadn't thought about it enough to actually picture the thousands literally upon thousands clamoring around the Washington monument, looking like thousands upon thousands of ants running around an anthill.
Still, I had two classes to get through. My 5:30 date with Chelsea to do our homework (70 words about our best friend, and yes, Stacey, I wrote about you) was put off when we realized my culture class ended at 5:30 and the inauguration proceedings would start at the same time. But even before that, I had my first renaissance class and the first culture class with the other professor, aka NOT the one who hates Under the Tuscan Sun but has some masochistic wish to teach it anyway.
Professor Kittel, who teaches the renaissance in italy class, has a surprisingly strong presence for such a small woman. She has short black hair cut into somewhat of a messy bob, glasses that probably aren't from this decade, and little care for a fashion sense. And yet, slight as she is (her jaw protrudes from how thin she is and she can't be taller than my mom) just her stature seems to commandeer so much respect. She has such passion for her subject and reads aloud, as she puts it, as fast as the italians talk. She speaks English just as fast.
We were minutes into class when I knew it's going to be the most difficult class I'll be taking here, but for sure also the most interesting and rewarding. She had only just started her introduction to the renaissance when I knew she would be the most fascinating professor. She strings words together when she speaks in the most thought provoking ways. And, like the antithesis of most professors, she admitted to not knowing the exact date of an event in a war (to which, she said, "I know, it's shocking that I'm a history professor and I haven't memorized every single date) and still managed to improve her credibility.
I know I just rambled on about a professor for two paragraphs, but when I was sitting in that first class with her I was thinking of what Chelsea had said a day early when we were discussing the benefits and downfalls of tutoring italiani in inglese while in Viterbo: "I'm here on vacation," she said. At the time, I had been in complete, unwavering agreement, but as that idea kept running through my head during Kittel's class, I couldn't help but feel the exact opposite. Yes, I'm in Viterbo for a break from American life. But I'm also here to get a chance to think about things differently and explore new ideas. It may sound cheesy and bookwormish, but I realized I'm really stoked to learn while I'm here. As a result and in spite of the six books we have to read during the semester and the five kilometer walk I'll have to take in a few weeks.
Renaissance class totally pumped me up for the half hour between classes, as I daydreamed about all the junk I'd be learning. Also, I was pretty high on an Obama rush, anticipating the inauguration. It made culture class a bit difficult to sit through, but I did enjoy the change in professor and chance to actually learn about italiano culture, history and politics instead of one woman's fictional idea of Tuscany.
5:30 p.m. came with a mad rampage of the entire class through the tiny italian doorway out of the classroom, out of the university and onto the streets. We sped back into the cover of the city walls and across town to get to the bar where about half of USAC was already sitting and watching Biden get sworn in. The owner of the bar/ristorante had been nice enough to give up part of his pausa pronzo to stay open so we could watch, and he even found a channel on the TV in inglese for us.
Like many of the others, I ordered a drink (a Salvatore for me, it was a dark beer and really good) and stood by the bar while a good half of us filled up every chair on the side of the ristorante with the TV. Watching Aretha Franklin sign the national anthem (in that hat??) was good comic relief. I was surprised how moved I was by the quartet playing "Gift to be Simple," but I guess the moment got the better of me. But when Obama was sworn in and during his speech, I couldn't stop smiling. It was impossible.
And I wasn't the only one. I looked around the room to see a few of the girls actually crying with happiness, and others gazing humbly with awe at the television screen. For a moment, it was strange and sad to realize I wasn't at home, in the US, in DC, watching this happen. I thought about people at home watching it happen at the exact same time. I imagined how amazing it would have been to be back working at CBS that day. But I realized that, for the majority of the time, I hadn't even thought about the fact that I wasn't in the United States as this historic event was happening. Standing in the packed bar, with a cold beer and my friends in italia, I might as well have been in the western hemisphere. I felt just as though I was in America with friends as I stood in the bar in Viterbo with friends.
It really was an amazing night. I could tell as it was happening that it would be one of those events where I'd forever remember every detail of exactly where I was while it was happening, only not because of some awful context like how I vividly remember the entire day of 9/11. And, even more amazing, Aaron took us to a small hole-in-the-wall place that made donor kebabs where Kally, Kittel's daughter and I were able to get some ridiculously delicious felafel.
Today was good as well, because with Alex from Maryland I met a couple italian students at the universita and had a chance to talk and practice inglese e italiano back and forth. Other than the italian students that some USAC kids live with, these were really the first italians from the university that I met and had a chance to talk to, which was really cool. But even throughout the day, the synapses in my brain would randomly fire and I'd flashback to the night before and how amazing it felt to know that I left America with George W. Bush as president, but I'd be returning to a country led by Barack Obama.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Why calling me at 4 a.m. is bad, and the right ways to contact me. And, Roma!!
Mon 19 Jan 2009
The rest of Saturday brought with it a trip to the Ipercoop and an evening hanging out and ruining Chelsea and Katy's apartment's relationship with their italian neighbors across the hall.
Saturday night, people were going to Chelsea's apartment to watch Forgetting Sara Marshall and have dinner, a (really really good) ziti made by Felicia. Well, we never quite got around to watching the movie, but we did have a time hanging out, mixing red wine and orange soda (also really really good), eating way too much nutella, and getting kicked out of their apartment.
Ten p.m. is the beginning of quiet hours in Viterbo and the time of night where neighbors can and often do call the cops if those stupid americans are too loud. From what I heard and saw of the night, the events were as follows:
Chelsea and Derek were playing around and pretended to lock Felicia and Hailey out of the apartment. Apparently instead of continuing to talk through the door and wait for them to open it, Felicia decided to ring both the doorbells for Chelsea's apartment and the italian neighbors next door. The neighbors got pissed off. Katy ran to be the moderator and asked Kevin/Pedro/Peter/etc., since he knew italian better than pretty much everyone else, to apologize and ask the neighbors if we were being too loud and they wanted us to leave, since the quiet hours were starting.
Well, Pedro relayed the conversation with the neighbor, while Derek filmed the whole thing on his camera, a few minutes later. He said he asked the neighbor if we were too loud, etc. The neighbor then basically said Chelsea and Katy's apartment was a brothel. Peter responded by calling the guy a stronso, and then the guy calmed down and that was it.
So we thought that perhaps the best course of action would be to move to another apartment. Chrinstine volunteered theirs, but somehow we split up so only her, Hailey, Krisitin, Felicia, Carrie and I were walking over there. Most of us just had to pee pretty badly, so once we started walking we figured we should just get the rest of the way there and then meet everyone else. After a little while, no one had shown up and we were going to be leaving for Roma at 6:30 the next morning, so Hailey and I decided to head back to our apartments.
About 15 minutes after we got back Christine called and said we would leave at 8:30 instead. The next morning on the train, we found out everyone else eventually appeared, and thus went the night.
The next morning came a communication breakdown. But first, a note about phone calls:
At about 3:30 a.m. that same night, my phone started ringing. At first I thought it was my alarm and couldn't figure out why it was going off so early. Then I looked and realized it was Jessica Lin, so I hit the button to silence it because it was the middle of the night versus a dollar-30 a minute for a call on my phone. A few minutes later, it rang again. Jessica Lin. And then again. And then again. I knew Jenny had to be waking up from this also, since her bed is right next to mine. So the way my mind works, I figured either she had lost her phone or something was seriously wrong. My brain assumed the latter, so I got out of bed to go call her back in the kitchen.
I call once. She doesn't pick up. I call twice. She doesn't pick up.
She calls me. I pick up.
Me (basically asleep): "Hello?"
Jess (with background noise akin to that of a party): "Hello? Hello?"
"Jess? What's going on?"
"Were you sleeping?"
"...It's 4 a.m. here."
"What? What are you talking ab--OH! Ahh I'm sorry! Go back to sleep!"
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah (laughs) go back to sleep! I'm sorry!"
"Oookay. Night."
The point of this story is it costs me $1.30 a minute to talk to you, so please, remember that I am at least six hours ahead of you right now and unless it's really really important, I'm probably not going to use my minutes to talk to you. So with the exception of dire crisis, please refrain from calling, especially four times at my 4 a.m. Jess, I love you, and thank you for helping me formulate this real-life example.
Instead, if you DO wish to call me and it is quite immediate and necessary, I have purchased a cell phone over here. If you want, e-mail/facebook/etc me and I can send you the number. If you call that number, whatever international rates you have apply, but for me, it's free and I actually get credit and minutes. That's only from receiving the call though, so I am even less likely to call you from that cell phone than my one from home. But, you can still call me.
Anyway, breaking back from the tangent and my 4 a.m. wake-up call. Got up at 7:45 a.m., called Hailey at 8:15 to see if she was ready and found out she got up at 6 because she thought we were still leaving at 6:30 and had went back to sleep after she knocked on my door at 6:15 and I didn't answer. I called Christine at 8:16 to make sure we were still going and found out Felicia either had the flu or food poisoning and she would let me know if they were still going in a few minutes. At around 8:30 I get a call from a Christine who I can hear is running through the streets of Viterbo and she tells me we're still going and the train leaves at 8:58. I call Hailey and we book it to Porta Romana.
Roma was amazing though. Lots of *very* friendly guys, two waiters who were very excited to practice their English on us, and the history and architecture. I've finally uploaded pictures to my computer, so hopefully when I get online later today this entry will be up along with a flickr account.
Everything in that city is breathtaking and fascinating. We walked what felt like everywhere, but only saw a tiny fraction of the south eastern part of the city. We walked down the Spanish Steps, and then looked backwards and realized where we were. We threw two coins into the Fontana di Trivi, one for a wish we silently made and one so that we would someday return. We ate gelato (I had mint chocolate and caramel) while basking in its deliciousness and avoiding vendors trying to give us roses and get coins in return. We climbed up, around and through the humungous Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. And finally, we walked up to and around the outside of the Colliseo. Next time I'm in Roma, I am DEFINITELY shelling out the 20 euro for a tour of the inside. I think we all felt pretty awed by the history of the ruins and buildings around us.
By the time we took the train back (we had no idea what time it left, but somehow managed to time it so we got there with 20 minutes to spare), we were dead tired but still living off the high of having been in Roma, if even just for a few hours. Hopefully, pictures to be on the internet soon.
The rest of Saturday brought with it a trip to the Ipercoop and an evening hanging out and ruining Chelsea and Katy's apartment's relationship with their italian neighbors across the hall.
Saturday night, people were going to Chelsea's apartment to watch Forgetting Sara Marshall and have dinner, a (really really good) ziti made by Felicia. Well, we never quite got around to watching the movie, but we did have a time hanging out, mixing red wine and orange soda (also really really good), eating way too much nutella, and getting kicked out of their apartment.
Ten p.m. is the beginning of quiet hours in Viterbo and the time of night where neighbors can and often do call the cops if those stupid americans are too loud. From what I heard and saw of the night, the events were as follows:
Chelsea and Derek were playing around and pretended to lock Felicia and Hailey out of the apartment. Apparently instead of continuing to talk through the door and wait for them to open it, Felicia decided to ring both the doorbells for Chelsea's apartment and the italian neighbors next door. The neighbors got pissed off. Katy ran to be the moderator and asked Kevin/Pedro/Peter/etc., since he knew italian better than pretty much everyone else, to apologize and ask the neighbors if we were being too loud and they wanted us to leave, since the quiet hours were starting.
Well, Pedro relayed the conversation with the neighbor, while Derek filmed the whole thing on his camera, a few minutes later. He said he asked the neighbor if we were too loud, etc. The neighbor then basically said Chelsea and Katy's apartment was a brothel. Peter responded by calling the guy a stronso, and then the guy calmed down and that was it.
So we thought that perhaps the best course of action would be to move to another apartment. Chrinstine volunteered theirs, but somehow we split up so only her, Hailey, Krisitin, Felicia, Carrie and I were walking over there. Most of us just had to pee pretty badly, so once we started walking we figured we should just get the rest of the way there and then meet everyone else. After a little while, no one had shown up and we were going to be leaving for Roma at 6:30 the next morning, so Hailey and I decided to head back to our apartments.
About 15 minutes after we got back Christine called and said we would leave at 8:30 instead. The next morning on the train, we found out everyone else eventually appeared, and thus went the night.
The next morning came a communication breakdown. But first, a note about phone calls:
At about 3:30 a.m. that same night, my phone started ringing. At first I thought it was my alarm and couldn't figure out why it was going off so early. Then I looked and realized it was Jessica Lin, so I hit the button to silence it because it was the middle of the night versus a dollar-30 a minute for a call on my phone. A few minutes later, it rang again. Jessica Lin. And then again. And then again. I knew Jenny had to be waking up from this also, since her bed is right next to mine. So the way my mind works, I figured either she had lost her phone or something was seriously wrong. My brain assumed the latter, so I got out of bed to go call her back in the kitchen.
I call once. She doesn't pick up. I call twice. She doesn't pick up.
She calls me. I pick up.
Me (basically asleep): "Hello?"
Jess (with background noise akin to that of a party): "Hello? Hello?"
"Jess? What's going on?"
"Were you sleeping?"
"...It's 4 a.m. here."
"What? What are you talking ab--OH! Ahh I'm sorry! Go back to sleep!"
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah (laughs) go back to sleep! I'm sorry!"
"Oookay. Night."
The point of this story is it costs me $1.30 a minute to talk to you, so please, remember that I am at least six hours ahead of you right now and unless it's really really important, I'm probably not going to use my minutes to talk to you. So with the exception of dire crisis, please refrain from calling, especially four times at my 4 a.m. Jess, I love you, and thank you for helping me formulate this real-life example.
Instead, if you DO wish to call me and it is quite immediate and necessary, I have purchased a cell phone over here. If you want, e-mail/facebook/etc me and I can send you the number. If you call that number, whatever international rates you have apply, but for me, it's free and I actually get credit and minutes. That's only from receiving the call though, so I am even less likely to call you from that cell phone than my one from home. But, you can still call me.
Anyway, breaking back from the tangent and my 4 a.m. wake-up call. Got up at 7:45 a.m., called Hailey at 8:15 to see if she was ready and found out she got up at 6 because she thought we were still leaving at 6:30 and had went back to sleep after she knocked on my door at 6:15 and I didn't answer. I called Christine at 8:16 to make sure we were still going and found out Felicia either had the flu or food poisoning and she would let me know if they were still going in a few minutes. At around 8:30 I get a call from a Christine who I can hear is running through the streets of Viterbo and she tells me we're still going and the train leaves at 8:58. I call Hailey and we book it to Porta Romana.
Roma was amazing though. Lots of *very* friendly guys, two waiters who were very excited to practice their English on us, and the history and architecture. I've finally uploaded pictures to my computer, so hopefully when I get online later today this entry will be up along with a flickr account.
Everything in that city is breathtaking and fascinating. We walked what felt like everywhere, but only saw a tiny fraction of the south eastern part of the city. We walked down the Spanish Steps, and then looked backwards and realized where we were. We threw two coins into the Fontana di Trivi, one for a wish we silently made and one so that we would someday return. We ate gelato (I had mint chocolate and caramel) while basking in its deliciousness and avoiding vendors trying to give us roses and get coins in return. We climbed up, around and through the humungous Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. And finally, we walked up to and around the outside of the Colliseo. Next time I'm in Roma, I am DEFINITELY shelling out the 20 euro for a tour of the inside. I think we all felt pretty awed by the history of the ruins and buildings around us.
By the time we took the train back (we had no idea what time it left, but somehow managed to time it so we got there with 20 minutes to spare), we were dead tired but still living off the high of having been in Roma, if even just for a few hours. Hopefully, pictures to be on the internet soon.
Banaigna bonfire and the walk to bread
Sat 17 Jan 2009
So I'm sitting with my feet up on the windowsill in our kitchen again, writing an entry that will become blog once I return to a location with wifi. Yesterday and today are the first days that have been sunny for more than 30 seconds since we've been here, which is awesome. It's been warm and I've been able to wear sunglasses, which are two excellent things. Major happenings since I last wrote, and it's giving me good vibes about the rest of this trip.
Thursday night brought courage and determination to buy new boots, which weren't the ones I originally planned on. BUT the ones I got were 20 euro less than my original plan, are short, black with stripes of gray, and, get this: have a heel. It's about an inch high and pretty clunky, but oh yes, I bought shoes with heels. Take that, preconceptions about my balance.
Friday started with language class like any other day, but was also the first day of culture class. No one was really looking forward to cafeteria food followed by three hours of italian culture, so we had lunch between classes at a panini pizza place (it is literally impossible to find a bad pizza place within the city walls here, no joke) before heading back outside the walls to SMG and a course in culture.
Once back at campus, I got a cappuchino from the while-U-wait vending machines, which I discovered a few days prior have about 4 times more caffine than the while-U-wait caffé con latte from the same machine. It got me pretty wired, which I figured I was going to need. In class, I took a seat next to Lauren, a girl who I hadn't talked to much. It soon turned out to be probably the best decision I made that day.
Our culture professor is a small woman from god knows where, but I know I heard Scotland and Italy mentioned as options. Her accent makes her sound like Mrs. Doubtfire, which was fun for a good 15 minutes until she started explaining our syllabus. Instead of a culture class that I and most others expected, where we'd learn about italian life, politic, etc, the professor told us we'd be spending basically the entire course reading and analyzing Under the Tuscan Sun. Then she told us she hated both the book and the movie, but we were going to read and watch both anyway. The first half of class was spent reading passages the professor had photocopied from the book and Lauren and I discovered our mutual inability to pay attention and love for the song from those Fanta commercials. During our break about halfway through class, all discussion turned to the bonfire in Banaigna, a town a 20 minute busride away, that night.
Pretty much everyone was going, and everyone who wasn't in the culture class had already left so they could look around the gardens there (which I saw pictures of, and they're gorgeous so I will definitely be going back there when it's light out). We sat through the second half of class spending the entire time watching a good chunk of Under the Tuscan Sun. Thrilling. Lucky Wacky Jacky, a seat over from Lauren, was only auditing the class so she got to leave halfway through to finish the nap she had already started at her apartment instead of at a desk, and Lauren got to run about a half hour early to go tutor some guy in English.
A group of us ran to a Tabacchi after class, the we-sell-everything store, to get tickets for the bus. Most of them were running to catch the 5:40, but Stefano and I, who both live on the opposite side of town from SMG, decided to take the 6:20 bus so we wouldn't have to run and could stop at our respective apartments/dorm rooms.
The following comes a moment of truth. My new boots were expensive and had heels. I knew we would most definitely be walking back from Banaigna, which would be about an hour walk, since the buses stop running at like 8 here. My Converse are made of fabric and keep ending with my feet frozen and wet after an hour. A store on the street next to corso italiano had boots I had been eyeing for a few days now that cost 25 euro.
This is how I know Europa has already changed me. It clicked that this trip is what I've been saving all my money for, and everything I get here is italian, for christ's sake. I'm not getting this chance again for a while. I'm buying the freaking boots. So in the 50 minutes I had, I ran to the shoe store, tried on 38s (I'm pretty sure that's my size here) that fit perfectly so it must have been a sign, bought 'em, ran back to my apartment, had a bowl of Special K because I was starving, threw on my sexy, warm, dry, heel-less new boots, and ran upstairs to get Jacky from her apartment.
The timing wasn't as good as we'd hoped. We ran to the bus stop with about five minutes before it was supposed to leave. The kid that Lauren was tutoring had been a half hour late, so she had five minutes to run to a bus stop 10 minutes away from her. Stefano had gotten caught up in the "go with the flow" 'tude of italians that we had discussed only an hour before, and also had five minutes to run a 10 minute walk. Needless to say, we missed the bus. The next one wasn't until 7:20, but at least some other USAC kids had the same dilemma as us, so we waited together and I got to meet Fubio (I'm still not completely sure of his name or the spelling), one of the Italian kids that ended up in an apartment with USAC students. He practiced English on us. We practiced Italian on him. He translated for the guy sitting by us who said Lauren, Jacky and I were bella, and then walked with us further down when the guy became a bit of a creeper and, Fubio later translated offered us a ride in his car. Which also made no sense because he left before us on a different bus.
We discussed italy and america and life on the bus while some 16-year-old italiana girls with braces stared at us and played Katy Perry on their cell phones. Took lots of pictures with Fubio using his orange camera.
Finally, much later than we planned, to the bonfire. Saw my roommates waiting the busstop on the opposite side of the street when we got there, waiting to go back to Viterbo. I can't believe they were willing to leave so early, because the rest of the night was awesome.
The bonfire in Banaigna must have been about 5 really tall trees cut into a huge pile the size of a building with a low ceiling. Like two floors of Wicomico at UMD, or a bit taller than the Chatterton playground in Merrick. And all of those logs were on orange and purple fire. It was gorgeous, it was so so warm, I have pictures that will hopefully soon end up on flickr. We enjoyed pizza, gelato and drinks from the ristoranti and bars surrounding the piazza that held the bonfire. Then, we spent about three hours dancing to the italian band that played only 50s du-wop and swing hits. Meaning at least three different songs about doing the twist or shaking it up, baby or splish splash, taking a bath.
We didn't really plan ahead, because by the time our feet were all so tired we couldn't twist and shout anymore, we had to venture out for the hour walk back to Viterbo. Luckily, it was basically a straight shot back and we had a whole bunch of kids from last semester with us, so it would have been hard to get lost. Not so luckily, everyone's feet were destroyed by the end.
But of course, not even dead-tired feet could stop (some of) us from getting midnite pane. It was probably about 1 a.m.; a few went home, many went to Shu because the night was young they weren't quite done going out, and four of us headed to get pane. Got to try pieces of all three that night, and oh man are they delicious. Didn't feel like walking all the way back to my apartment and didn't want to wake up my roommates that I figured would already be asleep since they left the bonfire at around 8, when we were getting there, so crashed at Christine, Lauren, Felicia and Hanah's apartment. They have a good couch, fyi.
Felt gross, but got up this morning in time to have some awesome coffee made by Christine and head to the market that's only on Saturday mornings for an hour before it closed. Met up with Jacky there, bought a pair of sweet all black velcro high top Converse rip-offs for 10 euro, a pair of black leggings for 5 euro (why are they so expensive in the states??) and walked around awed at all the different stuff they had there. Vendors were selling everything from pants and dresses to jewelry and shoes to candy and blankets. It was awesome.
Broke off with Jacky to head to the Despar for a couple groceries, then back to the apartment to shower. Probably heading over to the Ipercoop in a bit because Jacky needs scissors and I'm up for something to do. Tonight will be dinner and, oh yes, a reggae festival right here in Viterbo.
Rome for the day tomorrow. Italian life is good.
So I'm sitting with my feet up on the windowsill in our kitchen again, writing an entry that will become blog once I return to a location with wifi. Yesterday and today are the first days that have been sunny for more than 30 seconds since we've been here, which is awesome. It's been warm and I've been able to wear sunglasses, which are two excellent things. Major happenings since I last wrote, and it's giving me good vibes about the rest of this trip.
Thursday night brought courage and determination to buy new boots, which weren't the ones I originally planned on. BUT the ones I got were 20 euro less than my original plan, are short, black with stripes of gray, and, get this: have a heel. It's about an inch high and pretty clunky, but oh yes, I bought shoes with heels. Take that, preconceptions about my balance.
Friday started with language class like any other day, but was also the first day of culture class. No one was really looking forward to cafeteria food followed by three hours of italian culture, so we had lunch between classes at a panini pizza place (it is literally impossible to find a bad pizza place within the city walls here, no joke) before heading back outside the walls to SMG and a course in culture.
Once back at campus, I got a cappuchino from the while-U-wait vending machines, which I discovered a few days prior have about 4 times more caffine than the while-U-wait caffé con latte from the same machine. It got me pretty wired, which I figured I was going to need. In class, I took a seat next to Lauren, a girl who I hadn't talked to much. It soon turned out to be probably the best decision I made that day.
Our culture professor is a small woman from god knows where, but I know I heard Scotland and Italy mentioned as options. Her accent makes her sound like Mrs. Doubtfire, which was fun for a good 15 minutes until she started explaining our syllabus. Instead of a culture class that I and most others expected, where we'd learn about italian life, politic, etc, the professor told us we'd be spending basically the entire course reading and analyzing Under the Tuscan Sun. Then she told us she hated both the book and the movie, but we were going to read and watch both anyway. The first half of class was spent reading passages the professor had photocopied from the book and Lauren and I discovered our mutual inability to pay attention and love for the song from those Fanta commercials. During our break about halfway through class, all discussion turned to the bonfire in Banaigna, a town a 20 minute busride away, that night.
Pretty much everyone was going, and everyone who wasn't in the culture class had already left so they could look around the gardens there (which I saw pictures of, and they're gorgeous so I will definitely be going back there when it's light out). We sat through the second half of class spending the entire time watching a good chunk of Under the Tuscan Sun. Thrilling. Lucky Wacky Jacky, a seat over from Lauren, was only auditing the class so she got to leave halfway through to finish the nap she had already started at her apartment instead of at a desk, and Lauren got to run about a half hour early to go tutor some guy in English.
A group of us ran to a Tabacchi after class, the we-sell-everything store, to get tickets for the bus. Most of them were running to catch the 5:40, but Stefano and I, who both live on the opposite side of town from SMG, decided to take the 6:20 bus so we wouldn't have to run and could stop at our respective apartments/dorm rooms.
The following comes a moment of truth. My new boots were expensive and had heels. I knew we would most definitely be walking back from Banaigna, which would be about an hour walk, since the buses stop running at like 8 here. My Converse are made of fabric and keep ending with my feet frozen and wet after an hour. A store on the street next to corso italiano had boots I had been eyeing for a few days now that cost 25 euro.
This is how I know Europa has already changed me. It clicked that this trip is what I've been saving all my money for, and everything I get here is italian, for christ's sake. I'm not getting this chance again for a while. I'm buying the freaking boots. So in the 50 minutes I had, I ran to the shoe store, tried on 38s (I'm pretty sure that's my size here) that fit perfectly so it must have been a sign, bought 'em, ran back to my apartment, had a bowl of Special K because I was starving, threw on my sexy, warm, dry, heel-less new boots, and ran upstairs to get Jacky from her apartment.
The timing wasn't as good as we'd hoped. We ran to the bus stop with about five minutes before it was supposed to leave. The kid that Lauren was tutoring had been a half hour late, so she had five minutes to run to a bus stop 10 minutes away from her. Stefano had gotten caught up in the "go with the flow" 'tude of italians that we had discussed only an hour before, and also had five minutes to run a 10 minute walk. Needless to say, we missed the bus. The next one wasn't until 7:20, but at least some other USAC kids had the same dilemma as us, so we waited together and I got to meet Fubio (I'm still not completely sure of his name or the spelling), one of the Italian kids that ended up in an apartment with USAC students. He practiced English on us. We practiced Italian on him. He translated for the guy sitting by us who said Lauren, Jacky and I were bella, and then walked with us further down when the guy became a bit of a creeper and, Fubio later translated offered us a ride in his car. Which also made no sense because he left before us on a different bus.
We discussed italy and america and life on the bus while some 16-year-old italiana girls with braces stared at us and played Katy Perry on their cell phones. Took lots of pictures with Fubio using his orange camera.
Finally, much later than we planned, to the bonfire. Saw my roommates waiting the busstop on the opposite side of the street when we got there, waiting to go back to Viterbo. I can't believe they were willing to leave so early, because the rest of the night was awesome.
The bonfire in Banaigna must have been about 5 really tall trees cut into a huge pile the size of a building with a low ceiling. Like two floors of Wicomico at UMD, or a bit taller than the Chatterton playground in Merrick. And all of those logs were on orange and purple fire. It was gorgeous, it was so so warm, I have pictures that will hopefully soon end up on flickr. We enjoyed pizza, gelato and drinks from the ristoranti and bars surrounding the piazza that held the bonfire. Then, we spent about three hours dancing to the italian band that played only 50s du-wop and swing hits. Meaning at least three different songs about doing the twist or shaking it up, baby or splish splash, taking a bath.
We didn't really plan ahead, because by the time our feet were all so tired we couldn't twist and shout anymore, we had to venture out for the hour walk back to Viterbo. Luckily, it was basically a straight shot back and we had a whole bunch of kids from last semester with us, so it would have been hard to get lost. Not so luckily, everyone's feet were destroyed by the end.
But of course, not even dead-tired feet could stop (some of) us from getting midnite pane. It was probably about 1 a.m.; a few went home, many went to Shu because the night was young they weren't quite done going out, and four of us headed to get pane. Got to try pieces of all three that night, and oh man are they delicious. Didn't feel like walking all the way back to my apartment and didn't want to wake up my roommates that I figured would already be asleep since they left the bonfire at around 8, when we were getting there, so crashed at Christine, Lauren, Felicia and Hanah's apartment. They have a good couch, fyi.
Felt gross, but got up this morning in time to have some awesome coffee made by Christine and head to the market that's only on Saturday mornings for an hour before it closed. Met up with Jacky there, bought a pair of sweet all black velcro high top Converse rip-offs for 10 euro, a pair of black leggings for 5 euro (why are they so expensive in the states??) and walked around awed at all the different stuff they had there. Vendors were selling everything from pants and dresses to jewelry and shoes to candy and blankets. It was awesome.
Broke off with Jacky to head to the Despar for a couple groceries, then back to the apartment to shower. Probably heading over to the Ipercoop in a bit because Jacky needs scissors and I'm up for something to do. Tonight will be dinner and, oh yes, a reggae festival right here in Viterbo.
Rome for the day tomorrow. Italian life is good.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
amanda vs. gelato, or viva bar crawl italiano!
Thurs Jan 15 2009
I think I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna just shell out the money, suck it up, and buy some sweet italian boots. it's the sale season so I might as well do it now before prices go back up, and the giant Ipercoop/mall has this huge DSW-like shoe store with so many sweet, sweet boots that I can't help myself. I think ultimately, I'll get a pair that's expensive and I will love and cherish and a pair within the city walls for way cheap that I will also love and cherish but are more likely to wear the soles through by the time I leave.
Now that I've psyched myself up enough so that's out of the way and I can go buy them after the internet and lunch, much to tell since yesterday. After quickly fleeing from the wifi yesterday, we had to head to the post office to declare that we're staying here for a while (or something? I'm not even sure exactly what we did but I do know it cost like 70 euro. At least my visa at home was free). Waiting there was like waiting at a DMV at home, but eventually, starving, we got out of there and heading for the no. 1 (so far) gelato place in town. This place has some mad history, or so the Viterbo people say. It's gone from bank to prison to gelateria, I believe, but if that's the path that it takes to get this stuff, it's worth it. We bought cheap okay sandwiches (my first time having white bread in YEARS), Alex who lives upstairs was the first to try hot chocolate and OMG it's somewhere between hot pudding and syrup ahhhh soooo gooood, and then, the gelato. I got a cone with noicchiolata (sp?) and cioccolate, aka hazelnut and chocolate, aka separately the chocolate tasted like the hot chocolate but cold and together they tasted like Nutella. Drooooooool.
We headed to the mall after, where I saw about 6 different pairs of my dream boots. My roommates desperately were yearning for some non-italian TV (I'd actually rather watch it in italian, if at all) so they wanted to head to ipercoop to find a computer-TV cable so they could watch DVDs. They got it, and eventually we figured out how to hook it up. I sat through The Devil Wears Prada (gotta say, not my fave) but when they started up Transformers, which is a wayyyy better movie, I knew I had to get out of there or I'd spend another night sitting by the TV with them in our apartment.
While the roommies stayed to watch the movie, I headed upstairs to Alex and John's apartment. They're frat brothers from Idaho State, and the differences in life up there seem pretty intense from back home for me. But it was fun, we chatted and watched a soccer match where JUV creamed CAT (I think, but we still have no idea which team was from where), and debated the pros and cons of our desires and abilities of going on. As if on cue, Nick, another Maryland kid, called me and said he was having people over his apartment. John and Alex decided to stay in, but I felt like I was on a roll staying as far away from the TV as possible and I wanted to keep it up.
So back downstairs, where Amy and Beth decided to stay in but Jenny came out with me and we headed to Nick's apartment. Viterbo once again proved to be much smaller and less confusing than it first seemed. We met up with the others at Nick's apartment after navigating his lobby that was way creepy and sketchy by the light of our cell phones since we couldn't find a switch to rid ourselves of the pitch black. For a while, we hung out, drank wine, met another kid, Derek, who's already been here a semester, watched Derek and Kevin/Jeff/Pedro/Peter play chess (I'll explain later if I have the strength), and exchanged some necessary magic tricks after Kate, who's been here a semester already too, presented the three-piles-of-seven trick.
Around 1, Derek realized it was Wednesday and therefore "going out night." Jenny and I had conveniently picked our first night to venture away from the apartment during "going out night" in Viterbo. "Andiamo!"
Thus follows my first Italian bar crawl. Nick, Jenny, Derek, Katy, Chelsea and I ventured out into the cobblestone streets. First it was to Blitz, one of the many bar/cafes in Viterbo. This one was an internet cafe, but of course, like the others, Nick said the internet's been down. Well, we weren't there for wifi at night anyway, so we ordered drinks and hung out by the bar. After a bit, it was time to find the next stop. Derek paid our tab, and we went to Try.
There, I tried my first italian beer. It was pretty light and not too bad, but I feel like if it had gotten warm I wouldn't have been thrilled with it. We attempted a sad version of salsa dancing since none of us knew for sure how to, watched the italiani form a conga line and then toss one kid in the air repeatedly, sang along to "I will Survive," knowing full well that it would point us out at Americans, and it was good.
Last stop was Shui. The night was dying down by the time we got there, so it wasn't really crowded and we nabbed the section of chairs and table up on a platform that we labeled the VIP area. That was pretty sweet, as were the bathrooms in that place which make me understand why people call a toilet a throne. I'm going to try to remember a camera next time because words will not do justice to that bathroom.
At Shui, I spent most of the time having a pretty intense political discussion with Derek. We both agreed, at the end, that by that point in the night neither of us were in the best state of mind to be doing so, but we were formidable opponents and will have furthers battles in the future.
We headed back to the apartments before that, but not before Nick took Jenny and I to get our first 3 a.m. pane. A bakery near some of the apartments here opens at midnight to start baking bread to sell to the bread stores in town. They keep the back door open, though, most definitely for those drunken or buzzed late night runs made by students for some fresh bread. Right out of the oven, we had pane bianca e pane dolce. I don't think I can correctly convey how everything I eat here tastes even more amazing than the las thing I ate, but that's how it is. The bianca was foccacia with rosemary and salt, and the dolce was basically a croissant with chocolate chips. Jenny and I split one of each, and wow. It was crispy, fresh, hot... sooooo gooood.
Had more class this morning and hopefully buying those boots this afternoon. Every day here cycles between cloudy with a tiny spot of sun, drizzling, and raining. Weather permitting, I'll get some new shoes.
Ciao!
I think I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna just shell out the money, suck it up, and buy some sweet italian boots. it's the sale season so I might as well do it now before prices go back up, and the giant Ipercoop/mall has this huge DSW-like shoe store with so many sweet, sweet boots that I can't help myself. I think ultimately, I'll get a pair that's expensive and I will love and cherish and a pair within the city walls for way cheap that I will also love and cherish but are more likely to wear the soles through by the time I leave.
Now that I've psyched myself up enough so that's out of the way and I can go buy them after the internet and lunch, much to tell since yesterday. After quickly fleeing from the wifi yesterday, we had to head to the post office to declare that we're staying here for a while (or something? I'm not even sure exactly what we did but I do know it cost like 70 euro. At least my visa at home was free). Waiting there was like waiting at a DMV at home, but eventually, starving, we got out of there and heading for the no. 1 (so far) gelato place in town. This place has some mad history, or so the Viterbo people say. It's gone from bank to prison to gelateria, I believe, but if that's the path that it takes to get this stuff, it's worth it. We bought cheap okay sandwiches (my first time having white bread in YEARS), Alex who lives upstairs was the first to try hot chocolate and OMG it's somewhere between hot pudding and syrup ahhhh soooo gooood, and then, the gelato. I got a cone with noicchiolata (sp?) and cioccolate, aka hazelnut and chocolate, aka separately the chocolate tasted like the hot chocolate but cold and together they tasted like Nutella. Drooooooool.
We headed to the mall after, where I saw about 6 different pairs of my dream boots. My roommates desperately were yearning for some non-italian TV (I'd actually rather watch it in italian, if at all) so they wanted to head to ipercoop to find a computer-TV cable so they could watch DVDs. They got it, and eventually we figured out how to hook it up. I sat through The Devil Wears Prada (gotta say, not my fave) but when they started up Transformers, which is a wayyyy better movie, I knew I had to get out of there or I'd spend another night sitting by the TV with them in our apartment.
While the roommies stayed to watch the movie, I headed upstairs to Alex and John's apartment. They're frat brothers from Idaho State, and the differences in life up there seem pretty intense from back home for me. But it was fun, we chatted and watched a soccer match where JUV creamed CAT (I think, but we still have no idea which team was from where), and debated the pros and cons of our desires and abilities of going on. As if on cue, Nick, another Maryland kid, called me and said he was having people over his apartment. John and Alex decided to stay in, but I felt like I was on a roll staying as far away from the TV as possible and I wanted to keep it up.
So back downstairs, where Amy and Beth decided to stay in but Jenny came out with me and we headed to Nick's apartment. Viterbo once again proved to be much smaller and less confusing than it first seemed. We met up with the others at Nick's apartment after navigating his lobby that was way creepy and sketchy by the light of our cell phones since we couldn't find a switch to rid ourselves of the pitch black. For a while, we hung out, drank wine, met another kid, Derek, who's already been here a semester, watched Derek and Kevin/Jeff/Pedro/Peter play chess (I'll explain later if I have the strength), and exchanged some necessary magic tricks after Kate, who's been here a semester already too, presented the three-piles-of-seven trick.
Around 1, Derek realized it was Wednesday and therefore "going out night." Jenny and I had conveniently picked our first night to venture away from the apartment during "going out night" in Viterbo. "Andiamo!"
Thus follows my first Italian bar crawl. Nick, Jenny, Derek, Katy, Chelsea and I ventured out into the cobblestone streets. First it was to Blitz, one of the many bar/cafes in Viterbo. This one was an internet cafe, but of course, like the others, Nick said the internet's been down. Well, we weren't there for wifi at night anyway, so we ordered drinks and hung out by the bar. After a bit, it was time to find the next stop. Derek paid our tab, and we went to Try.
There, I tried my first italian beer. It was pretty light and not too bad, but I feel like if it had gotten warm I wouldn't have been thrilled with it. We attempted a sad version of salsa dancing since none of us knew for sure how to, watched the italiani form a conga line and then toss one kid in the air repeatedly, sang along to "I will Survive," knowing full well that it would point us out at Americans, and it was good.
Last stop was Shui. The night was dying down by the time we got there, so it wasn't really crowded and we nabbed the section of chairs and table up on a platform that we labeled the VIP area. That was pretty sweet, as were the bathrooms in that place which make me understand why people call a toilet a throne. I'm going to try to remember a camera next time because words will not do justice to that bathroom.
At Shui, I spent most of the time having a pretty intense political discussion with Derek. We both agreed, at the end, that by that point in the night neither of us were in the best state of mind to be doing so, but we were formidable opponents and will have furthers battles in the future.
We headed back to the apartments before that, but not before Nick took Jenny and I to get our first 3 a.m. pane. A bakery near some of the apartments here opens at midnight to start baking bread to sell to the bread stores in town. They keep the back door open, though, most definitely for those drunken or buzzed late night runs made by students for some fresh bread. Right out of the oven, we had pane bianca e pane dolce. I don't think I can correctly convey how everything I eat here tastes even more amazing than the las thing I ate, but that's how it is. The bianca was foccacia with rosemary and salt, and the dolce was basically a croissant with chocolate chips. Jenny and I split one of each, and wow. It was crispy, fresh, hot... sooooo gooood.
Had more class this morning and hopefully buying those boots this afternoon. Every day here cycles between cloudy with a tiny spot of sun, drizzling, and raining. Weather permitting, I'll get some new shoes.
Ciao!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
and i found the wifi and it was GOOD
Viva Viterbo! Which means, "go Viterbo!" and not "live Viterbo!" One of the many things I learned today in my first elemetary italiano class. As you can see, about five (even I lost count) posts just sprouted up out of nowhere in the last few minutes. The reason for that would be I am sitting in a small gravel and grass courtyard outside the library of the SMG campus of the universita, and it is wifi accessible! Internet cafes are still a no-go, but I'm working on that, and though my fingers started to freeze so I'm typing with those hole-covered red and black gloves I have, at least this is free.
I have to run to the post office with some other USAC kids in a minute so the police don't come and arrest us for not announcing our stay, but I just wanted to say huzzah! to the fact that the wifi here works. Also, I'll post for the rest of yesterday and my successful (yay!) phone buying later, but I just wanted to explain the three posts labeled for Tuesday the 13th. I wrote all of them the same day, but they explain three different days, hence the repetitive labels.
Ciao for now!
Love and internet,
Mi chiamo Amanda
I have to run to the post office with some other USAC kids in a minute so the police don't come and arrest us for not announcing our stay, but I just wanted to say huzzah! to the fact that the wifi here works. Also, I'll post for the rest of yesterday and my successful (yay!) phone buying later, but I just wanted to explain the three posts labeled for Tuesday the 13th. I wrote all of them the same day, but they explain three different days, hence the repetitive labels.
Ciao for now!
Love and internet,
Mi chiamo Amanda
orienteering in italia and phone troubles
Tues Jan 13 2009
***********Tuesday*********
I realize I wrote a LOT for Sunday, and past entries as well, so I'm trying (read: failing) to keep it short. I feel like it's possible even I won't want to go back and read all this later.
More orientation today. More coffee from adorable vending machines while-U-wait. On the north campus as AGR today, brought there by a crowded, contempt-filled busride (I think mostly from the italians). Realization that we are to the universita and Viterbo what kids from the international community thrown into the language house are to UMD and College Park.
AGR is right by the mall and the Ipercoop (think a slightly smaller Price Club). Went with Nick and Stefano, two of the other Maryland kids, for grocery shopping, where we saw at least half of the other kids from our group, and lunch and our first italian food court. For fast food, the cous cous salad thing I got was good. Also, the olives here are AMAZING. Much to be said for eating olives in the same country where they're grown. Same goes for wine, gelato, and pizza. Also, probably every other food/drink here.
Getting good at conveying that sono vegitariana and I need no carne. Worked at the cafeteria Monday, and again at the food court today. Tonight, I'm craving some gelato. But that's all vegetarian. If Sammy comes to italia, I highly recommend leaving the veganism at home. Now I get why Alyssa went into gelato-withdrawl when she got home from Wien.
I'm the last person in my group without a phone. Not thrilled about it, but I know the words for 15 euro and stesso studenti americano so I'm about 1/3 confident I'll be able to successfully get it today by myself. If that venture is successful, I might just work up enough confidence to shop solo on main street and find me some sweet italiano boots. It's gone from want to necessity: my feet are freezing every day in these Converse.
I'll probably break these into separate entries to make them a bit easier to read if I remember. Hopefully, I'll remember that and to edit them so they're at least a bit more interesting. Also hopeful that I didn't forget anything important.
Last hopefullity: that this will see the interwebz soon.
Ciao ciao!
***********Tuesday*********
I realize I wrote a LOT for Sunday, and past entries as well, so I'm trying (read: failing) to keep it short. I feel like it's possible even I won't want to go back and read all this later.
More orientation today. More coffee from adorable vending machines while-U-wait. On the north campus as AGR today, brought there by a crowded, contempt-filled busride (I think mostly from the italians). Realization that we are to the universita and Viterbo what kids from the international community thrown into the language house are to UMD and College Park.
AGR is right by the mall and the Ipercoop (think a slightly smaller Price Club). Went with Nick and Stefano, two of the other Maryland kids, for grocery shopping, where we saw at least half of the other kids from our group, and lunch and our first italian food court. For fast food, the cous cous salad thing I got was good. Also, the olives here are AMAZING. Much to be said for eating olives in the same country where they're grown. Same goes for wine, gelato, and pizza. Also, probably every other food/drink here.
Getting good at conveying that sono vegitariana and I need no carne. Worked at the cafeteria Monday, and again at the food court today. Tonight, I'm craving some gelato. But that's all vegetarian. If Sammy comes to italia, I highly recommend leaving the veganism at home. Now I get why Alyssa went into gelato-withdrawl when she got home from Wien.
I'm the last person in my group without a phone. Not thrilled about it, but I know the words for 15 euro and stesso studenti americano so I'm about 1/3 confident I'll be able to successfully get it today by myself. If that venture is successful, I might just work up enough confidence to shop solo on main street and find me some sweet italiano boots. It's gone from want to necessity: my feet are freezing every day in these Converse.
I'll probably break these into separate entries to make them a bit easier to read if I remember. Hopefully, I'll remember that and to edit them so they're at least a bit more interesting. Also hopeful that I didn't forget anything important.
Last hopefullity: that this will see the interwebz soon.
Ciao ciao!
the US does not know the MEANING of "thin crust"
Tues Jan 13 2009
*********Monday********
Real orientation: day 1. It's kind of like at Maryland. I don't think I'll be able to ever find my way back to the campus at SMG or through it, but I'm more realistically hoping I'll find my way around in a few weeks.
Coffee vending machines are everywhere, and have fantastic coffee and cappuccinos. You get a plastic brown bathroom cup, and about a third of it is filled if you get coffee. Most of the cup is filled for cappuccino and hot chocolate, and they all come with a mini clear plastic stirrer.
Amy and Beth were tired by the end of the day and stayed at the apartment, but Jenny and I felt like going out for dinner. We went to ask the guys and girls upstairs if they wanted to join us, and with perfect timing they had just been about to leave to meet some others. A group of about 15 of us went to corso italiano (main street) and took up half of a restaurant for dinner.
A note about pizza here: Think of a regular-sized dinner plate you would use at home. Now, extend the radius by about an inch. Now picture a pizza. Make that pizza have about a two-inch radius larger than the plate. Make the crust literally as thin as two pieces of printer paper. Put a thin but fair amount of cheese and sauce on top, and remove just about all of that grease that seeps off when you fold it. That, my friends, is pizza at a restaurant in Viterbo. Oh yes.
*********Monday********
Real orientation: day 1. It's kind of like at Maryland. I don't think I'll be able to ever find my way back to the campus at SMG or through it, but I'm more realistically hoping I'll find my way around in a few weeks.
Coffee vending machines are everywhere, and have fantastic coffee and cappuccinos. You get a plastic brown bathroom cup, and about a third of it is filled if you get coffee. Most of the cup is filled for cappuccino and hot chocolate, and they all come with a mini clear plastic stirrer.
Amy and Beth were tired by the end of the day and stayed at the apartment, but Jenny and I felt like going out for dinner. We went to ask the guys and girls upstairs if they wanted to join us, and with perfect timing they had just been about to leave to meet some others. A group of about 15 of us went to corso italiano (main street) and took up half of a restaurant for dinner.
A note about pizza here: Think of a regular-sized dinner plate you would use at home. Now, extend the radius by about an inch. Now picture a pizza. Make that pizza have about a two-inch radius larger than the plate. Make the crust literally as thin as two pieces of printer paper. Put a thin but fair amount of cheese and sauce on top, and remove just about all of that grease that seeps off when you fold it. That, my friends, is pizza at a restaurant in Viterbo. Oh yes.
vino per 3 euro or less
Tues 13 Jan 2009
Ciao!
It's been a few days since I last wrote, so I have a bit to recap. Also, I just noticed I labeled my last two entires as 2008 instead of 2009. Filling out my permit to stay (or something like that) document today was the first time I actually wrote 2009. That's going to take a bit of getting used to.
So. I'm alone in my apartment for the first time. It's strange, since that means the TV isn't on in our living room blasting MTV or the "AllMusic" channel that my roommates tend to religiously keep blasting. I'm sitting on one of our metal/wooden chairs in the kitchen, feet up on the marble windowsill where I sat the other day writing in my written journal, with the lights off and natural light and scenery from the cloudy day outside creeping through one of the many windows in this apartment that's taller than I am. This would be a great place to blog all my entries if we got internet in here. Maybe I'll try the internet cafe again later and see if the internet still "no funcionado."
*******Sunday********
Zipping back all the way to Sunday. Stefano had warned us the church bells right next door might wake us up. I can't remember if I was up already or as a result of them, but they surely rang Sunday morning. 8:44 a.m., said the little travel clock on our chair-turned-end table. I probably only lay there for a few minutes, but I felt fidgety and couldn't get back to sleep. Got up, wrote said journal entry on the window sill, went back to bed and read a while, got up again for sheer fidgetiness. By 10:30 a.m., all my roommates were up and we went to explore and be touristy in Viterbo.
Took a bunch of photos (hopefully, wifi will soon be found and flickr account created) and found the open-air market with white tents that had given us free samples the day before. Sure enough, those same guys were there with those same free samples. We partook. We were all in agreement that the stand had some quality 3 euro red wine, so I took it upon myself to try to purchase a bottle.
Now, the guy selling it didn't know any English. He was bald, probably in his late 30s or early 40s, with a black jacket (like everyone else) and a friendly smile. Language class doesn't start until tomorrow, so I pretty much still don't know any italiano, other than what the idiot's guide left in our apartment had educated us about pick-up lines. But somehow, we got involved in a fractured, half conversation that we think covered how we were students studying at the university for a couple months, his dream to either go to New York or that he went there and was some kind of fisherman, and the eventual purchase of wine. Frankie had told us days before to introduce yourself and be friendly with vendors, because in the future they'll give you discounts. So, I told him, somehow, my name.
Once he realized, he told me his. Then he stopped, gave me a signal to wait a moment, and started writing something behind the counter. He handed a piece of paper to me. On it, he had written "Biagio" and a phone number. I tried to explain I had no phone, but took it anyway. From the way he gave me the number and the context of our conversation, I think it has a different stigma than someone giving you their number at home. Still, that was a first.
We spent the rest of the day getting ourselves lost and found downtown (Viterbo really isn't all that big after all) and finding a restaurant to eat at. We ate around 2:30, normal lunchtime here. I got pasta, the other three gals pizza, and we didn't bother with the price fix menu. I have no idea how italians successfully down their four and five course meals twice a day here. After that one bowl of pasta that was probably half the size of an American bowl from a restaurant, I couldn't eat for the rest of the day. None of us were able to eat dinner.
Walking around a bit after their siesta (pausa something... I'll let you know when I remember) is common here, and we tried it. It was dark, and Christmas lights were up. The long, dripping ones were everywhere, and a few feet long. The streets were filled with couples and groups walking, and it was gorgeous.
Ciao!
It's been a few days since I last wrote, so I have a bit to recap. Also, I just noticed I labeled my last two entires as 2008 instead of 2009. Filling out my permit to stay (or something like that) document today was the first time I actually wrote 2009. That's going to take a bit of getting used to.
So. I'm alone in my apartment for the first time. It's strange, since that means the TV isn't on in our living room blasting MTV or the "AllMusic" channel that my roommates tend to religiously keep blasting. I'm sitting on one of our metal/wooden chairs in the kitchen, feet up on the marble windowsill where I sat the other day writing in my written journal, with the lights off and natural light and scenery from the cloudy day outside creeping through one of the many windows in this apartment that's taller than I am. This would be a great place to blog all my entries if we got internet in here. Maybe I'll try the internet cafe again later and see if the internet still "no funcionado."
*******Sunday********
Zipping back all the way to Sunday. Stefano had warned us the church bells right next door might wake us up. I can't remember if I was up already or as a result of them, but they surely rang Sunday morning. 8:44 a.m., said the little travel clock on our chair-turned-end table. I probably only lay there for a few minutes, but I felt fidgety and couldn't get back to sleep. Got up, wrote said journal entry on the window sill, went back to bed and read a while, got up again for sheer fidgetiness. By 10:30 a.m., all my roommates were up and we went to explore and be touristy in Viterbo.
Took a bunch of photos (hopefully, wifi will soon be found and flickr account created) and found the open-air market with white tents that had given us free samples the day before. Sure enough, those same guys were there with those same free samples. We partook. We were all in agreement that the stand had some quality 3 euro red wine, so I took it upon myself to try to purchase a bottle.
Now, the guy selling it didn't know any English. He was bald, probably in his late 30s or early 40s, with a black jacket (like everyone else) and a friendly smile. Language class doesn't start until tomorrow, so I pretty much still don't know any italiano, other than what the idiot's guide left in our apartment had educated us about pick-up lines. But somehow, we got involved in a fractured, half conversation that we think covered how we were students studying at the university for a couple months, his dream to either go to New York or that he went there and was some kind of fisherman, and the eventual purchase of wine. Frankie had told us days before to introduce yourself and be friendly with vendors, because in the future they'll give you discounts. So, I told him, somehow, my name.
Once he realized, he told me his. Then he stopped, gave me a signal to wait a moment, and started writing something behind the counter. He handed a piece of paper to me. On it, he had written "Biagio" and a phone number. I tried to explain I had no phone, but took it anyway. From the way he gave me the number and the context of our conversation, I think it has a different stigma than someone giving you their number at home. Still, that was a first.
We spent the rest of the day getting ourselves lost and found downtown (Viterbo really isn't all that big after all) and finding a restaurant to eat at. We ate around 2:30, normal lunchtime here. I got pasta, the other three gals pizza, and we didn't bother with the price fix menu. I have no idea how italians successfully down their four and five course meals twice a day here. After that one bowl of pasta that was probably half the size of an American bowl from a restaurant, I couldn't eat for the rest of the day. None of us were able to eat dinner.
Walking around a bit after their siesta (pausa something... I'll let you know when I remember) is common here, and we tried it. It was dark, and Christmas lights were up. The long, dripping ones were everywhere, and a few feet long. The streets were filled with couples and groups walking, and it was gorgeous.
dolla dolla bills, apartments, conclaves
Sat, Jan 10 2009
Jet lag is a funny thing. I spent most of yesterday trying my darndest not to nap (or more realistically, not to nap longer than an hour) and this morning I woke up at 8:15 a.m.-ish, totally refreshed and ready for a full day of getting lost in Viterbo. Now, at 8:30 p.m., I'm basically ready for sleep again. Hopefully that means by tomorrow my hours will be more or less adapted to Italy.
Learned and saw a lot today. To follow: why the word "conclave" originates from Viterbo and some pope-selectors locked in a cathedral without a roof in the 1000s; a Nigerian man who loves America and carries around a one dollar bill; my first real cup of italiano cafe con latte; and the SICKEST apartment I've ever seen.
After we finished breakfast, lugged our luggage to a meeting room in the hotel, and had another piece of orientation this morning, we took a tour of Viterbo. Of course, I was disoriented the entire time and ended up at the same pizza place for lunch that I went to yesterday even though I thought I was on a street I had never been on before. We stopped at a few of the piazzas, which in Viterbo mean a square with a tower, fountain and cathedral. One of the piazzas that breaks that rule is piazza de gehu, but given the story behind the cathedral there, it deserves the break.
Stefano explained to us that the cathedral, back around 1000, was used by the pope for about 100 years because it was safer and more secluded than living and working in Rome. After one pope had died, the clergy got together to select a new pope. Well, it was taking them months, and people started to get pissed. The Viterbo population wanted a new freaking pope already. So they decided to take action: they locked the clergy inside the cathedral con cieve, or with a key. Then they stopped giving the holy guys as much food. Then they took the roof off the cathedral so it rained inside. Apparently it wasn't really enough motivation, because about two years later, a new pope was selected. Con cieve eventually became the word "conclave," which somehow became the name of a magic convention in Boston. But that's probably not a direct connection.
After the tour was over and I had eaten a tiny sample of some kind of sweet pastry and a small cup of red wine I snagged for free at one of the open-air markets, we were free for lunch. As we walked down one of the cobblestone streets looking for a ristorante, a large black man with a gray sweater and protruding belly stopped Calli, one of the girls we were walking with. Now, Calli has some crazy dreads, and this guys definitely noticed.
"American rasta??" he asked her in a thick, deep Nigerian accent, thrilled to gaze at her hair. We talked with him a while about how much he loved America and wants to go there. He told us Italy was tame and uneventful and asked us if we thought the same. We told him we'd been here less than two days and certainly hoped it wasn't. He asked all of our names and where we were from. He told us he'd heard of New York, New Jersey, Washington, D.C., and Atlanta, Georgia. None of us were from D.C. or Atlanta. He told us he was from Nigeria. None of us had been there. Right before we went to walk our separate ways, he triumphantly said, "In God we trust!" and then wouldn't let us leave until he showed us the carefully folded one dollar bill he kept in his wallet and pointed at each word as he said it. We went on our way to look for pizza and he went on his way in the opposite direction.
After lunch and a trip to the grocery store where we found a vegetable labeled "califour" but was green and spiky, we met back at the wing fountain to regroup before seeing our apartments for the first time. I was pretty excited about mine. I'm living with three other girls who go to Iowa State in the group of apartments that are pretty much exactly halfway before the north and south campuses of the university. As we walked to our apartment, Stefano showed us we were also about 20 seconds away from an internet cafe and a gelato place, plus we live right above a mini grocery store.
We walked through the giant, dark wooden doors into the large, marble lobby. A fake skylight in the ceiling is where the floor in the hallway on the first floor right above actually is. (Also, I love how the ground floor is also the zero floor here, so instead of "G*" or something in the the hotel elevator, it said "0.") A big marble staircase led up to the floors above. The first stop was our room on the first floor, while another group of four girls and the co-ed apartment with two girls and two guys were up on the third floor.
With much excited anticipation, we unlocked the door to our apartment and the SWEETEST living location I've seen. Ever. In my entire life. Jaws dropped at the spacious living area leading down a long hallway that ends with the bathroom. We ran into the room to the left through the living room. First, you have to understand that the ceilings in here have to be about 25 feet high. Second, you have to understand that the closet in the first bedroom we walked into is nearly as tall as the ceiling. Third, you have to understand that the bedroom also has a glass door taller than the closet that leads out to a small balcony. Fourth, you HAVE to understand that both bedrooms consist of a desk, closet, and maybe some shelves on the floor. Then you have to realize that the rooms have spiral metal staircases that lead up to two beds on a loft. A loft! I don't even think words were going through my brain at this point, I was smiling and freaking out so much. The kitchen is huge too, and already came with a bunch of spices, glasses, plates, silverware, a water filter, and the like. The living area had a whole bunch of art previous students also left. The second bedroom, the one I'm in, has a bit of a smaller closet and a smaller window instead of a balcony, but it still has the spiral staircase loft and an eternal place in my heart. I am going to be living here the next five months. Holy crap.
We also have a TV left here by previous people, which gets cable and is currently tuned to MTV playing a rerun of America's Best Dance Crew.
After we moved in, we walked to the internet cafe around the corner where I ordered a "cafe con leche," was corrected by the girl working there that it's "cafe con latte," and then asked for wifi to find it was broken. I drank my coffee that actually comes in a tiny white cup and saucer and is damn strong but seriously good. It may have had milk, but it tasted like creamy black coffee.
Since the internet wasn't working at the cafe (sorry, these two entries probably won't be up until at least with a third by Monday or later) we walked to the mini grocery store under our apartments. It reeked of dead fish, which, we soon realized, was due to the dead fish in a bucket underneath a shelf of cookies. A room on the side was filled with vino, and after discovering my roommates are all loyal white wine drinkers, we selected two bottles for 2.50 and 3.50 euro (vino is cheaper than aqua here) and brought them upstairs to toast our first official night in our italian apartment.
The jet lag has caught up to us again so we probably won't be going out tonight, which is why I've had time to write this now, but tomorrow is Sunday and basically the whole town will be shut down so we'll have time to explore and act like tourists with our cameras glued to our hands.
All in all, a long, sweet, sweet day.
Jet lag is a funny thing. I spent most of yesterday trying my darndest not to nap (or more realistically, not to nap longer than an hour) and this morning I woke up at 8:15 a.m.-ish, totally refreshed and ready for a full day of getting lost in Viterbo. Now, at 8:30 p.m., I'm basically ready for sleep again. Hopefully that means by tomorrow my hours will be more or less adapted to Italy.
Learned and saw a lot today. To follow: why the word "conclave" originates from Viterbo and some pope-selectors locked in a cathedral without a roof in the 1000s; a Nigerian man who loves America and carries around a one dollar bill; my first real cup of italiano cafe con latte; and the SICKEST apartment I've ever seen.
After we finished breakfast, lugged our luggage to a meeting room in the hotel, and had another piece of orientation this morning, we took a tour of Viterbo. Of course, I was disoriented the entire time and ended up at the same pizza place for lunch that I went to yesterday even though I thought I was on a street I had never been on before. We stopped at a few of the piazzas, which in Viterbo mean a square with a tower, fountain and cathedral. One of the piazzas that breaks that rule is piazza de gehu, but given the story behind the cathedral there, it deserves the break.
Stefano explained to us that the cathedral, back around 1000, was used by the pope for about 100 years because it was safer and more secluded than living and working in Rome. After one pope had died, the clergy got together to select a new pope. Well, it was taking them months, and people started to get pissed. The Viterbo population wanted a new freaking pope already. So they decided to take action: they locked the clergy inside the cathedral con cieve, or with a key. Then they stopped giving the holy guys as much food. Then they took the roof off the cathedral so it rained inside. Apparently it wasn't really enough motivation, because about two years later, a new pope was selected. Con cieve eventually became the word "conclave," which somehow became the name of a magic convention in Boston. But that's probably not a direct connection.
After the tour was over and I had eaten a tiny sample of some kind of sweet pastry and a small cup of red wine I snagged for free at one of the open-air markets, we were free for lunch. As we walked down one of the cobblestone streets looking for a ristorante, a large black man with a gray sweater and protruding belly stopped Calli, one of the girls we were walking with. Now, Calli has some crazy dreads, and this guys definitely noticed.
"American rasta??" he asked her in a thick, deep Nigerian accent, thrilled to gaze at her hair. We talked with him a while about how much he loved America and wants to go there. He told us Italy was tame and uneventful and asked us if we thought the same. We told him we'd been here less than two days and certainly hoped it wasn't. He asked all of our names and where we were from. He told us he'd heard of New York, New Jersey, Washington, D.C., and Atlanta, Georgia. None of us were from D.C. or Atlanta. He told us he was from Nigeria. None of us had been there. Right before we went to walk our separate ways, he triumphantly said, "In God we trust!" and then wouldn't let us leave until he showed us the carefully folded one dollar bill he kept in his wallet and pointed at each word as he said it. We went on our way to look for pizza and he went on his way in the opposite direction.
After lunch and a trip to the grocery store where we found a vegetable labeled "califour" but was green and spiky, we met back at the wing fountain to regroup before seeing our apartments for the first time. I was pretty excited about mine. I'm living with three other girls who go to Iowa State in the group of apartments that are pretty much exactly halfway before the north and south campuses of the university. As we walked to our apartment, Stefano showed us we were also about 20 seconds away from an internet cafe and a gelato place, plus we live right above a mini grocery store.
We walked through the giant, dark wooden doors into the large, marble lobby. A fake skylight in the ceiling is where the floor in the hallway on the first floor right above actually is. (Also, I love how the ground floor is also the zero floor here, so instead of "G*" or something in the the hotel elevator, it said "0.") A big marble staircase led up to the floors above. The first stop was our room on the first floor, while another group of four girls and the co-ed apartment with two girls and two guys were up on the third floor.
With much excited anticipation, we unlocked the door to our apartment and the SWEETEST living location I've seen. Ever. In my entire life. Jaws dropped at the spacious living area leading down a long hallway that ends with the bathroom. We ran into the room to the left through the living room. First, you have to understand that the ceilings in here have to be about 25 feet high. Second, you have to understand that the closet in the first bedroom we walked into is nearly as tall as the ceiling. Third, you have to understand that the bedroom also has a glass door taller than the closet that leads out to a small balcony. Fourth, you HAVE to understand that both bedrooms consist of a desk, closet, and maybe some shelves on the floor. Then you have to realize that the rooms have spiral metal staircases that lead up to two beds on a loft. A loft! I don't even think words were going through my brain at this point, I was smiling and freaking out so much. The kitchen is huge too, and already came with a bunch of spices, glasses, plates, silverware, a water filter, and the like. The living area had a whole bunch of art previous students also left. The second bedroom, the one I'm in, has a bit of a smaller closet and a smaller window instead of a balcony, but it still has the spiral staircase loft and an eternal place in my heart. I am going to be living here the next five months. Holy crap.
We also have a TV left here by previous people, which gets cable and is currently tuned to MTV playing a rerun of America's Best Dance Crew.
After we moved in, we walked to the internet cafe around the corner where I ordered a "cafe con leche," was corrected by the girl working there that it's "cafe con latte," and then asked for wifi to find it was broken. I drank my coffee that actually comes in a tiny white cup and saucer and is damn strong but seriously good. It may have had milk, but it tasted like creamy black coffee.
Since the internet wasn't working at the cafe (sorry, these two entries probably won't be up until at least with a third by Monday or later) we walked to the mini grocery store under our apartments. It reeked of dead fish, which, we soon realized, was due to the dead fish in a bucket underneath a shelf of cookies. A room on the side was filled with vino, and after discovering my roommates are all loyal white wine drinkers, we selected two bottles for 2.50 and 3.50 euro (vino is cheaper than aqua here) and brought them upstairs to toast our first official night in our italian apartment.
The jet lag has caught up to us again so we probably won't be going out tonight, which is why I've had time to write this now, but tomorrow is Sunday and basically the whole town will be shut down so we'll have time to explore and act like tourists with our cameras glued to our hands.
All in all, a long, sweet, sweet day.
dia uno
Friday, Jan 9 2009
About a zillion thoughts were running through my head on the flight, as they had been for the days and weeks leading up to leaving. Among them were:
-I am SO not ready for this
-day dreaming different scenarios of what my apartment will look like and who my roommates would be
-figuring out the time difference, repeatedly
-determining reasons why i went into spasms of uncontrollable smiling
The flight was at night, and we didn't see any sunlight until less than an hour before we landed. My first landmark came with the first city lights I saw. Tiny yellow-orange globes clustered together in a variety of blobs and rectangles every few minutes or every few seconds. After the first town I spotted in Europe, I think I spent about 20 minutes straight staring out the window and spotting more towns. Plus many more minutes after that–I couldn't sleep much.
Instead, I fell asleep on the hour-and-a-half bus ride to Viterbo from the airport in Rome. I flashed in and out of sleep, trying to convince my brain to stay alert, feeling madly awake for a few minutes while enjoying the coutryside that immsensely reminded me of Israel, and falling asleep again.
At around 11 a.m., I opened my eyes and legitimately thought we had driven to Tzefat, a holy city in Israel. About a minute later, Stephen, one of our program directors, said we were entering Viterbo. The buildings on the edge of down had the same misplaced, sporatic feel as the ones in Tzefat.
We drove on into the city. While we were stopped at an intersection, I looked out my window to a building with walls that looked like they were stacked in front of eachother and painted dull yellow. Out of the third or fourth floor window, a man, in full winter-weather gear, was hanging more than half out the window and spackeling the wall of the building beneath him.
We're staying the first night in a hotel for "orientation," which doesn't make much sense since our orientation isn't until Monday. My guess is they just didn't have our apartments ready yet and needed to throw us somewhere. If anything, this has taught me that I do not, in fact, pack light. I am dreading tomorrow morning when I'll have to carry my enormous bags back downstairs (in an elevator that only fits one person and two bags uncomfortably, and through doors so thin my duffel couldn't fit through them sideways). I'm also expecting no elevators in the apartments and some necessary teamwork to get the bags into our rooms.
We just spent some time walking around Viterbo. I think the anticipation of getting here hit me more than actually arriving; maybe I'm just feeling non-chalant because we haven't really done anything yet. I did, however, eat my first slice of pizza in Italy. As Murphy's Law would have it, it took about 20 minutes to find the first pizzeria and about 3 minutes to find each one consecutively after that. I have four words: sicilian mozzerella thin crust. Oh yeah. You know you want to come visit me now.
I'm wriitng this, back in the hotel room, where we've got a little break before going out to look at cell phones. I've got my phone from the USA with me, but the rates for making calls are outrageous. You can, however, text me on the number you know and love, because I still get those for free. New phone will (hopefully) be pre-paid and mainly for conversing with others within the continent.
There's day 1, in not so much of a nutshell. It feels like it's been going on forever and it's only 2 p.m., but that's probably because I haven't really slept and it's 8 a.m. New York time.
Until the next entry,
Ciao bellos!
About a zillion thoughts were running through my head on the flight, as they had been for the days and weeks leading up to leaving. Among them were:
-I am SO not ready for this
-day dreaming different scenarios of what my apartment will look like and who my roommates would be
-figuring out the time difference, repeatedly
-determining reasons why i went into spasms of uncontrollable smiling
The flight was at night, and we didn't see any sunlight until less than an hour before we landed. My first landmark came with the first city lights I saw. Tiny yellow-orange globes clustered together in a variety of blobs and rectangles every few minutes or every few seconds. After the first town I spotted in Europe, I think I spent about 20 minutes straight staring out the window and spotting more towns. Plus many more minutes after that–I couldn't sleep much.
Instead, I fell asleep on the hour-and-a-half bus ride to Viterbo from the airport in Rome. I flashed in and out of sleep, trying to convince my brain to stay alert, feeling madly awake for a few minutes while enjoying the coutryside that immsensely reminded me of Israel, and falling asleep again.
At around 11 a.m., I opened my eyes and legitimately thought we had driven to Tzefat, a holy city in Israel. About a minute later, Stephen, one of our program directors, said we were entering Viterbo. The buildings on the edge of down had the same misplaced, sporatic feel as the ones in Tzefat.
We drove on into the city. While we were stopped at an intersection, I looked out my window to a building with walls that looked like they were stacked in front of eachother and painted dull yellow. Out of the third or fourth floor window, a man, in full winter-weather gear, was hanging more than half out the window and spackeling the wall of the building beneath him.
We're staying the first night in a hotel for "orientation," which doesn't make much sense since our orientation isn't until Monday. My guess is they just didn't have our apartments ready yet and needed to throw us somewhere. If anything, this has taught me that I do not, in fact, pack light. I am dreading tomorrow morning when I'll have to carry my enormous bags back downstairs (in an elevator that only fits one person and two bags uncomfortably, and through doors so thin my duffel couldn't fit through them sideways). I'm also expecting no elevators in the apartments and some necessary teamwork to get the bags into our rooms.
We just spent some time walking around Viterbo. I think the anticipation of getting here hit me more than actually arriving; maybe I'm just feeling non-chalant because we haven't really done anything yet. I did, however, eat my first slice of pizza in Italy. As Murphy's Law would have it, it took about 20 minutes to find the first pizzeria and about 3 minutes to find each one consecutively after that. I have four words: sicilian mozzerella thin crust. Oh yeah. You know you want to come visit me now.
I'm wriitng this, back in the hotel room, where we've got a little break before going out to look at cell phones. I've got my phone from the USA with me, but the rates for making calls are outrageous. You can, however, text me on the number you know and love, because I still get those for free. New phone will (hopefully) be pre-paid and mainly for conversing with others within the continent.
There's day 1, in not so much of a nutshell. It feels like it's been going on forever and it's only 2 p.m., but that's probably because I haven't really slept and it's 8 a.m. New York time.
Until the next entry,
Ciao bellos!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Fast days 1, 2, 3 update; or why I cant type while sitting in Western Union
So, Im in italia! Ive written two blog entries on my laptop so far, and neither one will be posted for a bit longer at least because Ive yet to find where internet here is really located. Im writing on a keyboard at a Western Union where I spent five minutes looking for the "@" sign, and eventually found I had to press the "ò" key, which is also the "ç" key if I press shift and the "@" key if I press an "Alt Gr" key with it. Also, I have yet to discover where the single quote mark is, hence the reason why all of the words so far like "Im" and "Ive" that should have a quote mark, dont. Also the quote mark (") is the 2 key when I press shift. Its also the reason I keep accidentally typing words like "Iàve" and "Iàm" and having to backspace them. Man.
Other than unncessarily confusing keyboards, Ive been slowly learning few italian words. Luckily, language class starts Tuesday so I should actually learn some stuff for serious. Right now basically all I have is "Im a vegetarian," "No meat," "I would like a slice of pizza, please," "Internet working?" (Hey I just found the '! It's the same key as "?" if I press shift, but right next to the "0" which is also "="), "Where is the bathroom," "Can we speak English," and "This isn't what it looks like." Also, my new favorite word is "dark," which in italian phonetically translates to "boo-yah!" I'd say, for not starting classes yet, I'm on a roll.
Even though I'm just starting to get used to this weird-ass keyboard, I'm getting charged 2 euro an hour at a Western Union to use an old Philips and LG computer running on Windows XP instead of my Macbook. The university has wifi on campus where I apparently won't be able to access Skype, and the internet cafe 20 seconds from my apartment keeps telling us "wifi no funcionado." At least they're consistent.
So, to come when I get further situated and find some real wifi, in addition to whatever future stuff I'll probably write in the blog I started in TextEdit: Crazy worries on the flight over, my first slice of pizza and coffee in italia, a Nigerian man who loves dreadlocks, why the word "conclave" has origins in Viterbo, and a surprising inability to go grocery shopping. Oh, and the apartment where I'm living, which will make you so jealous you might want to cry. Just a warning.
All is well, and will be even better when I can post for realz. I'm off too look for some Nutella!
Ciao,
Amanda
Other than unncessarily confusing keyboards, Ive been slowly learning few italian words. Luckily, language class starts Tuesday so I should actually learn some stuff for serious. Right now basically all I have is "Im a vegetarian," "No meat," "I would like a slice of pizza, please," "Internet working?" (Hey I just found the '! It's the same key as "?" if I press shift, but right next to the "0" which is also "="), "Where is the bathroom," "Can we speak English," and "This isn't what it looks like." Also, my new favorite word is "dark," which in italian phonetically translates to "boo-yah!" I'd say, for not starting classes yet, I'm on a roll.
Even though I'm just starting to get used to this weird-ass keyboard, I'm getting charged 2 euro an hour at a Western Union to use an old Philips and LG computer running on Windows XP instead of my Macbook. The university has wifi on campus where I apparently won't be able to access Skype, and the internet cafe 20 seconds from my apartment keeps telling us "wifi no funcionado." At least they're consistent.
So, to come when I get further situated and find some real wifi, in addition to whatever future stuff I'll probably write in the blog I started in TextEdit: Crazy worries on the flight over, my first slice of pizza and coffee in italia, a Nigerian man who loves dreadlocks, why the word "conclave" has origins in Viterbo, and a surprising inability to go grocery shopping. Oh, and the apartment where I'm living, which will make you so jealous you might want to cry. Just a warning.
All is well, and will be even better when I can post for realz. I'm off too look for some Nutella!
Ciao,
Amanda
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