I'm not even going to attempt to catch up. Here's the brief summary: went to Cinque Terre, made friends with an Australian, ran into Paul at the train station, broke more pots in Ceramics, finished classes, and here we are.
Yesterday, I brought home all of my pieces from Ceramics, but there are more than I thought there were, so I didn't really prepare that much room for them... I am packing my roller carry-on inside of my suitcase for my days of independent travel so that I don't have to worry about carry two suitcase-like bags. However, it's super difficult, but I am convinced to make it work somehow! I'm a little bit nervous about how baggage will work on the train, but we'll see. Actually, I haven't even looked up train times yet. Whoops.
We went out last night, but we only went to the same places as usual--Eby's and Slowly. I feel silly for going to Slowly because I was trying to save that 10 euro to go today and have appertivo, but we went last night, and they didn't have appertivo, but we had already eaten anyways. I think the issue is that I just don't want to miss anything with my friends, but it's difficult not to with such a tight budget. Anyways, at Eby's Lily and I tried a shot called "The Illumination." I wish that my mom could have taken that because it tasted like her favorite treat--chocolate covered cherries! Excellent!
So...here's the game plan. Today- go to Pitti Palace and watch the sunset from Piazza Michelangelo if it's not raining, eat leftovers for dinner, go to Secret Bakery later. Tomorrow- pack up and catch a train to Pisa, drop my bags off at my hotel, go see the leaning tower and sight-see a little, go to the beach. Sunday- pack up and catch a train to Venice, drop my bags of at the hotel, go sight-see, possibly visiting some of the islands, maybe meeting up with Jessica for a little bit. Monday- Venice tour! Walking tour in the morning, boat tour in the evening. Tuesday- Get up to catch the shuttle to the airport! Ahhhh! I really am not ready to go home.
I have gotten to know Florence as a "small town" especially compared to Rome, but when I first got here, I thought that Florence was huge and impossible to navigate. I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for reverse culture-shock. How am I going to handle going back to fields and forest? Having to drive everywhere? NO MARKET?! I hate thinking about it all, but I have to accept it because I obviously have to go back eventually. It will be nice to see family again, but I'm dreading the long flight and the fact of knowing that it will be a long time before I ever get the opportunity to return to such a beautiful place.
It's not over yet! I've still got a few days! I'm going to hang out to them as much as I can.
Blessings.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
A Gelato a Day or Broken Pots or Random Roman or AMALFI COAST or Don't Go a Week without Blogging...
I eat gelato almost everyday here. It's pretty much a must-have, and how could it not be when they have a flavor for every mood or desire? Gelato shops are everywhere, and the frozen treat is a wonderful break from the heat of summer, but it makes me wonder: what do they do in the winter? I would still eat it.
Another big one here is olive oil. I don't think a meal goes by without olive oil (minus breakfast cereal). It's not just a flavor or a grease or anything like that--it's a vitamin here, an essential nutrient. Breads, pastas, eggs, sandwiches--it's all cooked with olive oil, dipped in olive oil; what a simple garnish! Paige and I bought a large bottle at the market for 6 euro. I am going to miss things like that when I return to America, but I'm certainly enjoying the heck out of them now while I can. Sometimes I wonder if such eating habits will follow me.
Throwing pots is the most beautiful act of material creation. The act is so reminiscent of man's creation and makes me very grateful to know God. When starting a pot, you have to stretch the clay up into a tall, thin ant-hill to get out any air bubbles or imperfections with the clay. After smashing it back into a round blob, you have to center it on the platform by using your whole body to lean into it, cupping the clay in your hands, eyes closed, until you can feel it coming into place. Then comes the hard part. After giving the pot a center, a heart, the sides must be gently but firmly pulled upward to give the piece some height. This takes a while and is pretty rough work, but after that comes the art of shaping it, manipulating soft clay as it quickly passes between your fingers to give the dish a form--a distinct shape of its own. Sometimes, no matter how well you can try to plan it, the pot/vase/whatever becomes its own dish--it works against the potter to do its own thing. Sometimes it can even completely flop, folding in on itself, but all is not lost. These imperfections help to make the pot more beautiful, adding character and room for improvement. Other times, the clay becomes so broken that the imperfections must be flattened and re-shaped, a new creation at the hands of the potter. Thrown, spun, pulled & re-shaped in the most intimate way, I am beautifully and wonderfully made.
I eavesdropped on pigeons the other day. Typical Italians: boys chasing girls. Sometimes, I honestly think that I am crazy. They provided amusing entertainment, though.
I met my first Italian outside of school the other day. I was walking to meet friends, and he stopped me on the street and asked me (in Italian) how to find some street that I had never heard of. He had just moved to Florence from Rome and said that it was in Roman tradition to treat a friend to a glass of nice wine. Feeling adventurous after a long day of breaking all of my decent pots in Ceramics, I agreed. We had a glass along with some small talk. It was great practice for Italian because our conversation was probably 50/50 Italian and English. My lack of knowledge for the Italian language should be an indicator here of how small the talk was. I learned that Italians have a very different view of friendship--he wanted to hold my hand while we walked down the street! I said, "No, no. Friends don't do that in America." Maybe they do, but definitely not after they just met! His name was Marco, and he sent me a message over the weekend. I didn't respond because I am simply too busy this week, and I kind of don't want to hang out with him again. I thought that I wanted to make Italian friends, but it felt weird.
Speaking of keeping busy, a part of my plans for this week is to have a jam session with Paul. He e-mailed me at the tail-end of last week, so we are going to try to make some music this week. Hopefully it will work out. More music for the week: we are going to a ballet tomorrow. It's Don Quixote (except spelled in Russian?), and it's taking place at the Boboli Gardens, which are supposed to be beautiful! I haven't been there yet, but I bought a Friends of the Uffizi pass for the museums and am hoping to start hitting some up tomorrow!
I have realized recently that we are learning Italian in such a peculiar way. We learned terms and grammar and everything, but it's not compared to English. It's not so much ____ means _____. It's more of "this is how we do things in Italian; don't ask why; just do it." I think it has made me very confused while helping me to pick up on it quickly. What a wonderful contradiction!
Hmm. I have some catching up to do. On Thursday, I went to volunteer at the Museo Stibbert gardens. They were beautiful! It was great to get to help clean them up a bit for the public. We did simple tasks like sweeping the stairs or pulling weeds.
In the evening, we went to the jazz concert--Raphael Gualazza. It was great, but a few of his songs were pretty weird where he did this Louis Armstrong-like grumbling thing. Most of the songs were in English, which was surprising, although, I have to admit: the first song was in Italian,and I had momentarily forgotten where we were and was surprised when I couldn't understand him. Speaking of where we were, the concert was at a historical Roman garden in Fiesole where we could see the entire city of Florence (in a much smaller perspective than from Piazelle Michelangelo). During the show, the musician did one cover, and it was "Don't Stop" by Fleetwood Mac. I was so excited and sang every word. The API kids around me turned and gawked, "You know one of his songs?!" I was shocked, "Nooooo...it's Fleetwood Mac!" What a shame!
Ugh. Where do I even begin with this weekend?! It was absolute paradise. I fear that I may have to settle for a brief overview. On Friday, we made the 7, turned 8, hour bus ride to Sorrento. Upon arriving, we went to a "pizza tasting" where we thought that we would get a bite or two of a few different kinds of pizza. No. Not even close. They gave us these huge pieces of four different kinds of pizza! Granted, they were delicious, and we ate all of it, but we were so full! But that's not all. After filling us to the brim with pizza, they served us a lemoncello cake with dark dark espresso. I'm not a coffee person, but it's a Sorrentino specialty, to I chugged it down anyways. Sometimes I am amazed by how good everything tastes here. This was a nice stop because we got to try all of the southern specialties in one stop: pizza, lemoncello, espresso. Check.
After checking into our hotel, a group of us took a bus to Positano. Located on a huge hill with literally zig-zagged roads along a high cliff, the bus ride was exhilarating. The bus driver had to drop us off because the streets become very narrow, and some of them stop being streets and simply turn into stairs. After trekking probably a mile down stairs (literally), all of our legs were shaking. I don't think that we were expecting that many steps! For some reason, it seemed better on the walk up though. Nevertheless, we went down and enjoyed the beach and the shops. I could not believe how clear the water was! I have never seen anything like it in a body of water before; I'm so used to our dirty lakes in America. While waiting for the bus, we watched the moon rise over the hill-country. Illuminating the colorful homes and glowing gold over the water, the sight felt unreal, like we were sitting in a postcard.
But that wasn't the end of it. The next day in Capri was the same way: one surrealistic view after another. We took a boat tour around the island before going out on our own to venture the island. Yes, island! What a new and wonderful experience for me. We hiked up the island some until we found a restaurant with a beautiful view of the ocean. I had gnocchi alla sorrentino which was the specialty gnocchi for the area. I'm pretty sure that gnocchi is my new favorite food. On the way back down the hill, we stopped at a little shop where I had the best popsicle of my life. That sounds insane, but it was AMAZING. It was lemon with cream inside, and the stick was a piece of licorice! Mmmm!
After lunch, a group of us went back down to the dock where we rented a boat with a driver who took us out to the White Grotto to swim. This was probably the most surreal part of Capri--swimming by these beautiful white rocks in the clear Gulf of Naples. We all took fun pictures jumping off the boat. On the way back, the boat driver let each of us a drive the boat for a bit!
Sunday was my childhood dream come-true: Pompeii. We did a two-hour walking tour of the city. Walking through and knowing that the town has been still since 79 A.D. is so difficult to put into perspective. Seeing Vesuvius lurk over the town is awe-inspiring, especially knowing that the mountain is so much smaller than it was before the eruption, but it's still huge! The town was surprisingly large (at least of what has been uncovered), but most of it still lies underground.
The tour itself was actually a little disappointing because the guide focused on the sexual side of the city. We toured a brothel with fresco "menus" painted on the walls. There were also a lot of penis sculptures on the streets and sides of buildings serving as arrows to the brothels. Even though it was weird, it was still interesting, especially when put into perspective with the time period. The other students were pretty immature about it though, which was frustrating. Even the souvenir shops make a joke out of it, selling little penis sculptures and what not. Maybe I was just grumpy from the heat, but I was definitely more interested in the fact that these things were articles of art from nearly 2,000 years ago.
Nevertheless, it was all amazing to finally see in-person after years of dreaming about this once lost city. The temple there was amazing with a beautiful bronze statue. Sure, the city is in shambles, especially after the earthquake in 62 A.D. that they were still rebuilding from when Vesuvius erupted, but for 2,000 years old, it's so well-preserved! I was in awe.
At the site, there was a storehouse of artifacts that we got to see. Inside were hundreds of pots, many very well intact. Also, there were some bodies, plaster-cast with the real bones inside. I cried upon the sight of them--frozen in time from the moment of their last breath. It wasn't like anything I have ever seen. You go to museums and you see mummies, and they're a wonder to view, but to see these people, stuck in motion, going about life, is unbelievable. The one body was sitting up with his knees to his chest, cover is hands over his face and mouth, trying to breath amongst the debris. It was very intense. Also in the storehouse were statues, boxes (like literal treasure chests), and an anchor. I am slightly in love with anchors recently, and this one was so simply beautiful. We really did get to see a lot, but two hours just wasn't enough. Someday, I will go back.
This morning, I went to a local school to volunteer at a summer camp teaching English. I guess there was a mis-communication somewhere because I went, thinking that I would be helping out with lessons and games and what not like at a Vacation Bible School sort of thing. No. They expected me to come prepared with an hour's worth of a literal English lesson. I had nothing! The ages of the children ranged from 6 to 12, and their knowledge of English varied greatly. In 40 minutes, I threw together a half-hour lesson on the alphabet, numbers, colors, days of the week and the months. The older ones already knew most of this and looked bored, but it seemed like the younger ones were interested to learn and were picking up on it. For the days the days of the week and the months, I taught them the songs that we do at the daycare at home. The caught on quickly which was nice. Even though it was very difficult and frustrating because I am not fluent in Italian, it was a good experience. Next week, the director asked me to add a storybook reading and some children's music to my lesson in addition to the things that we did this week. I felt like they didn't want me there, though, especially since I am not fluent in Italian. We'll see what happens. I think that I will talk to Monica about it and decide from there if I will actually go back; it just seemed like I was more in the way.
As I enter this busy week, I am overwhelmed with schoolwork, activities, and everything that Italy has to offer. Nevertheless, I am doing my best that I can and enjoying every minute of being here. Yet, I have a favor to ask. My cousin (more like brother), Derek, is in the hospital at home. It's been hard for me to be here and not with him, and I'm just asking for prayers over the entire situation--prayers that he can come home soon, prayers that we can stay sane being away from each other, prayers that the situation can remain calm until I come home. Much appreciated.
Blessings.
Another big one here is olive oil. I don't think a meal goes by without olive oil (minus breakfast cereal). It's not just a flavor or a grease or anything like that--it's a vitamin here, an essential nutrient. Breads, pastas, eggs, sandwiches--it's all cooked with olive oil, dipped in olive oil; what a simple garnish! Paige and I bought a large bottle at the market for 6 euro. I am going to miss things like that when I return to America, but I'm certainly enjoying the heck out of them now while I can. Sometimes I wonder if such eating habits will follow me.
Throwing pots is the most beautiful act of material creation. The act is so reminiscent of man's creation and makes me very grateful to know God. When starting a pot, you have to stretch the clay up into a tall, thin ant-hill to get out any air bubbles or imperfections with the clay. After smashing it back into a round blob, you have to center it on the platform by using your whole body to lean into it, cupping the clay in your hands, eyes closed, until you can feel it coming into place. Then comes the hard part. After giving the pot a center, a heart, the sides must be gently but firmly pulled upward to give the piece some height. This takes a while and is pretty rough work, but after that comes the art of shaping it, manipulating soft clay as it quickly passes between your fingers to give the dish a form--a distinct shape of its own. Sometimes, no matter how well you can try to plan it, the pot/vase/whatever becomes its own dish--it works against the potter to do its own thing. Sometimes it can even completely flop, folding in on itself, but all is not lost. These imperfections help to make the pot more beautiful, adding character and room for improvement. Other times, the clay becomes so broken that the imperfections must be flattened and re-shaped, a new creation at the hands of the potter. Thrown, spun, pulled & re-shaped in the most intimate way, I am beautifully and wonderfully made.
I eavesdropped on pigeons the other day. Typical Italians: boys chasing girls. Sometimes, I honestly think that I am crazy. They provided amusing entertainment, though.
I met my first Italian outside of school the other day. I was walking to meet friends, and he stopped me on the street and asked me (in Italian) how to find some street that I had never heard of. He had just moved to Florence from Rome and said that it was in Roman tradition to treat a friend to a glass of nice wine. Feeling adventurous after a long day of breaking all of my decent pots in Ceramics, I agreed. We had a glass along with some small talk. It was great practice for Italian because our conversation was probably 50/50 Italian and English. My lack of knowledge for the Italian language should be an indicator here of how small the talk was. I learned that Italians have a very different view of friendship--he wanted to hold my hand while we walked down the street! I said, "No, no. Friends don't do that in America." Maybe they do, but definitely not after they just met! His name was Marco, and he sent me a message over the weekend. I didn't respond because I am simply too busy this week, and I kind of don't want to hang out with him again. I thought that I wanted to make Italian friends, but it felt weird.
Speaking of keeping busy, a part of my plans for this week is to have a jam session with Paul. He e-mailed me at the tail-end of last week, so we are going to try to make some music this week. Hopefully it will work out. More music for the week: we are going to a ballet tomorrow. It's Don Quixote (except spelled in Russian?), and it's taking place at the Boboli Gardens, which are supposed to be beautiful! I haven't been there yet, but I bought a Friends of the Uffizi pass for the museums and am hoping to start hitting some up tomorrow!
I have realized recently that we are learning Italian in such a peculiar way. We learned terms and grammar and everything, but it's not compared to English. It's not so much ____ means _____. It's more of "this is how we do things in Italian; don't ask why; just do it." I think it has made me very confused while helping me to pick up on it quickly. What a wonderful contradiction!
Hmm. I have some catching up to do. On Thursday, I went to volunteer at the Museo Stibbert gardens. They were beautiful! It was great to get to help clean them up a bit for the public. We did simple tasks like sweeping the stairs or pulling weeds.
In the evening, we went to the jazz concert--Raphael Gualazza. It was great, but a few of his songs were pretty weird where he did this Louis Armstrong-like grumbling thing. Most of the songs were in English, which was surprising, although, I have to admit: the first song was in Italian,and I had momentarily forgotten where we were and was surprised when I couldn't understand him. Speaking of where we were, the concert was at a historical Roman garden in Fiesole where we could see the entire city of Florence (in a much smaller perspective than from Piazelle Michelangelo). During the show, the musician did one cover, and it was "Don't Stop" by Fleetwood Mac. I was so excited and sang every word. The API kids around me turned and gawked, "You know one of his songs?!" I was shocked, "Nooooo...it's Fleetwood Mac!" What a shame!
Ugh. Where do I even begin with this weekend?! It was absolute paradise. I fear that I may have to settle for a brief overview. On Friday, we made the 7, turned 8, hour bus ride to Sorrento. Upon arriving, we went to a "pizza tasting" where we thought that we would get a bite or two of a few different kinds of pizza. No. Not even close. They gave us these huge pieces of four different kinds of pizza! Granted, they were delicious, and we ate all of it, but we were so full! But that's not all. After filling us to the brim with pizza, they served us a lemoncello cake with dark dark espresso. I'm not a coffee person, but it's a Sorrentino specialty, to I chugged it down anyways. Sometimes I am amazed by how good everything tastes here. This was a nice stop because we got to try all of the southern specialties in one stop: pizza, lemoncello, espresso. Check.
After checking into our hotel, a group of us took a bus to Positano. Located on a huge hill with literally zig-zagged roads along a high cliff, the bus ride was exhilarating. The bus driver had to drop us off because the streets become very narrow, and some of them stop being streets and simply turn into stairs. After trekking probably a mile down stairs (literally), all of our legs were shaking. I don't think that we were expecting that many steps! For some reason, it seemed better on the walk up though. Nevertheless, we went down and enjoyed the beach and the shops. I could not believe how clear the water was! I have never seen anything like it in a body of water before; I'm so used to our dirty lakes in America. While waiting for the bus, we watched the moon rise over the hill-country. Illuminating the colorful homes and glowing gold over the water, the sight felt unreal, like we were sitting in a postcard.
But that wasn't the end of it. The next day in Capri was the same way: one surrealistic view after another. We took a boat tour around the island before going out on our own to venture the island. Yes, island! What a new and wonderful experience for me. We hiked up the island some until we found a restaurant with a beautiful view of the ocean. I had gnocchi alla sorrentino which was the specialty gnocchi for the area. I'm pretty sure that gnocchi is my new favorite food. On the way back down the hill, we stopped at a little shop where I had the best popsicle of my life. That sounds insane, but it was AMAZING. It was lemon with cream inside, and the stick was a piece of licorice! Mmmm!
After lunch, a group of us went back down to the dock where we rented a boat with a driver who took us out to the White Grotto to swim. This was probably the most surreal part of Capri--swimming by these beautiful white rocks in the clear Gulf of Naples. We all took fun pictures jumping off the boat. On the way back, the boat driver let each of us a drive the boat for a bit!
Sunday was my childhood dream come-true: Pompeii. We did a two-hour walking tour of the city. Walking through and knowing that the town has been still since 79 A.D. is so difficult to put into perspective. Seeing Vesuvius lurk over the town is awe-inspiring, especially knowing that the mountain is so much smaller than it was before the eruption, but it's still huge! The town was surprisingly large (at least of what has been uncovered), but most of it still lies underground.
The tour itself was actually a little disappointing because the guide focused on the sexual side of the city. We toured a brothel with fresco "menus" painted on the walls. There were also a lot of penis sculptures on the streets and sides of buildings serving as arrows to the brothels. Even though it was weird, it was still interesting, especially when put into perspective with the time period. The other students were pretty immature about it though, which was frustrating. Even the souvenir shops make a joke out of it, selling little penis sculptures and what not. Maybe I was just grumpy from the heat, but I was definitely more interested in the fact that these things were articles of art from nearly 2,000 years ago.
Nevertheless, it was all amazing to finally see in-person after years of dreaming about this once lost city. The temple there was amazing with a beautiful bronze statue. Sure, the city is in shambles, especially after the earthquake in 62 A.D. that they were still rebuilding from when Vesuvius erupted, but for 2,000 years old, it's so well-preserved! I was in awe.
At the site, there was a storehouse of artifacts that we got to see. Inside were hundreds of pots, many very well intact. Also, there were some bodies, plaster-cast with the real bones inside. I cried upon the sight of them--frozen in time from the moment of their last breath. It wasn't like anything I have ever seen. You go to museums and you see mummies, and they're a wonder to view, but to see these people, stuck in motion, going about life, is unbelievable. The one body was sitting up with his knees to his chest, cover is hands over his face and mouth, trying to breath amongst the debris. It was very intense. Also in the storehouse were statues, boxes (like literal treasure chests), and an anchor. I am slightly in love with anchors recently, and this one was so simply beautiful. We really did get to see a lot, but two hours just wasn't enough. Someday, I will go back.
This morning, I went to a local school to volunteer at a summer camp teaching English. I guess there was a mis-communication somewhere because I went, thinking that I would be helping out with lessons and games and what not like at a Vacation Bible School sort of thing. No. They expected me to come prepared with an hour's worth of a literal English lesson. I had nothing! The ages of the children ranged from 6 to 12, and their knowledge of English varied greatly. In 40 minutes, I threw together a half-hour lesson on the alphabet, numbers, colors, days of the week and the months. The older ones already knew most of this and looked bored, but it seemed like the younger ones were interested to learn and were picking up on it. For the days the days of the week and the months, I taught them the songs that we do at the daycare at home. The caught on quickly which was nice. Even though it was very difficult and frustrating because I am not fluent in Italian, it was a good experience. Next week, the director asked me to add a storybook reading and some children's music to my lesson in addition to the things that we did this week. I felt like they didn't want me there, though, especially since I am not fluent in Italian. We'll see what happens. I think that I will talk to Monica about it and decide from there if I will actually go back; it just seemed like I was more in the way.
As I enter this busy week, I am overwhelmed with schoolwork, activities, and everything that Italy has to offer. Nevertheless, I am doing my best that I can and enjoying every minute of being here. Yet, I have a favor to ask. My cousin (more like brother), Derek, is in the hospital at home. It's been hard for me to be here and not with him, and I'm just asking for prayers over the entire situation--prayers that he can come home soon, prayers that we can stay sane being away from each other, prayers that the situation can remain calm until I come home. Much appreciated.
Blessings.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Musica!
When I came to Italy, I had no idea how this would truly become my life. I thought that I would come here, and it would be a long vacation. Now that I'm here, I'm well past settled in, and I'm just living. This is my life now, and that reality hit me in the face this weekend.
Here, I will do ALL of the things that I do in Pennsylvania. That's definitely a note-to-self for my next big adventure. I'm going crazy without my music. No iPod, no iTunes, no guitar...nothing. What a crazy thing to do! I considered these things before leaving, and I thought, 'No, I don't want to be in this amazing country all hung-up on my music, in my own world.' Now I realize that world has followed me here. I've been relying on Youtube for all of my music listening needs, and let me just say, it's not very satisfying.
I've been really jones-ing for my guitar. Every day, I walk down the street, and there are street musicians everywhere playing and singing. It's beautiful. To have the nerve to just set up a PA and play, I will never understand, but I wish that I could. I watch them, and I dream of being that person someday. Paige has been telling me since Rome that I should get a guitar here. They really are cheap. Seriously, like a decent guitar for forty euro. That's beside the point.
Tonight, Paige, Lily and I were walking around after getting one of the tastiest gelato yet. (I feel like I say that everytime that I get gelato!) While walking past the Uffizi, there was a street musician at the piazza there. On a whim, we stopped and listened. We sat behind him, and it was a great decision. There was a man sitting next to us, and when I said, "This area has great acoustics!" he turned and nodded. A musician, obviously. There was a guitar case next to him, but I thought that it was the performer's. After talking, I learned that this man is a songwriter from Boston. I was in awe. After the street musician was done, Paul (the man next to me) got out his guitar and asked me to play something. Slightly in shock, but super excited, I played my usual go-to song, "Colorblind" by Counting Crows. Naturally, I was super nervous and shakey and quiet and, well, I sucked, but it was great to play. Then, he played a song that he wrote the other day. It was pretty good, very sing-able. I caught on pretty quick and started singing harmonies. It feels so great to sing and play and just get some music going in Italy. I've missed it so much, even if it is just a personal thing for me.
Anyways, I'm hoping that we run into each other again for some more jam-time. I need to play (yes, music is a need), and even just singing along would tickle my musical bones. Plus, I have to remind myself, I have a question with his lyrics: how does Van Gogh relate to Chinque Terre? I'm a technical gal.
So I came home to the apartment with notes floating in my blood. My goal this year is to kill my nerves of playing guitar with people around so that my music can be true and my love and knowledge of it can seem more legit and believe-able because right now, I feel like a doofus when I play because I get so damn nervous.
I believe in signs.
Tonight, we went up to the Piazelle Michelangiolo to watch the sunset. There were guys there playing guitar, and Paige kept saying that I should ask them if I could borrow one. Shy as I can be, I was content with allowing them to provide a soundtrack to my surrealistic surroundings. I got some great shots to paint when I get back to the States. If I can ever bring myself to leave...
Blessings.
Here, I will do ALL of the things that I do in Pennsylvania. That's definitely a note-to-self for my next big adventure. I'm going crazy without my music. No iPod, no iTunes, no guitar...nothing. What a crazy thing to do! I considered these things before leaving, and I thought, 'No, I don't want to be in this amazing country all hung-up on my music, in my own world.' Now I realize that world has followed me here. I've been relying on Youtube for all of my music listening needs, and let me just say, it's not very satisfying.
I've been really jones-ing for my guitar. Every day, I walk down the street, and there are street musicians everywhere playing and singing. It's beautiful. To have the nerve to just set up a PA and play, I will never understand, but I wish that I could. I watch them, and I dream of being that person someday. Paige has been telling me since Rome that I should get a guitar here. They really are cheap. Seriously, like a decent guitar for forty euro. That's beside the point.
Tonight, Paige, Lily and I were walking around after getting one of the tastiest gelato yet. (I feel like I say that everytime that I get gelato!) While walking past the Uffizi, there was a street musician at the piazza there. On a whim, we stopped and listened. We sat behind him, and it was a great decision. There was a man sitting next to us, and when I said, "This area has great acoustics!" he turned and nodded. A musician, obviously. There was a guitar case next to him, but I thought that it was the performer's. After talking, I learned that this man is a songwriter from Boston. I was in awe. After the street musician was done, Paul (the man next to me) got out his guitar and asked me to play something. Slightly in shock, but super excited, I played my usual go-to song, "Colorblind" by Counting Crows. Naturally, I was super nervous and shakey and quiet and, well, I sucked, but it was great to play. Then, he played a song that he wrote the other day. It was pretty good, very sing-able. I caught on pretty quick and started singing harmonies. It feels so great to sing and play and just get some music going in Italy. I've missed it so much, even if it is just a personal thing for me.
Anyways, I'm hoping that we run into each other again for some more jam-time. I need to play (yes, music is a need), and even just singing along would tickle my musical bones. Plus, I have to remind myself, I have a question with his lyrics: how does Van Gogh relate to Chinque Terre? I'm a technical gal.
So I came home to the apartment with notes floating in my blood. My goal this year is to kill my nerves of playing guitar with people around so that my music can be true and my love and knowledge of it can seem more legit and believe-able because right now, I feel like a doofus when I play because I get so damn nervous.
I believe in signs.
Tonight, we went up to the Piazelle Michelangiolo to watch the sunset. There were guys there playing guitar, and Paige kept saying that I should ask them if I could borrow one. Shy as I can be, I was content with allowing them to provide a soundtrack to my surrealistic surroundings. I got some great shots to paint when I get back to the States. If I can ever bring myself to leave...
Blessings.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Bug bites & sexy feet
I've been having a difficult time bringing myself to blog again. Last week, I started getting personal with my writing, and by personal, I mean sentimental. It's really hard to walk along that line. I think that by doing so, I got a little frightened. I felt as though I had dipped my toe into freezing water and was afraid to go in for the swim, so here I am, having not blogged in days because I am afraid to share my blessings.
Classes are going better, but I feel like I can only say that because it is the weekend, so I don't have class! My quiz on Thursday went better than I expected (I think), and I felt relieved after it was over. Ceramics has been going better since we refined our pieces. I have felt a little better about them, even though they aren't even or anything. I went into the studio yesterday to finish painting them for their first firing. I can't wait to see how they turn out, though two of them are cracked already and probably won't survive. Our professor already gave us our second assignment, but I haven't even started the first! We have to research designs and styles and ideas first. How much do I have done? Zip. Oops...
Recently, I have been accumulating a ton of mosquito bites. The funny thing about it is that I've really only see around 5 or 12 mosquitoes. I counted my bites yesterday, and I was at 55. I counted them again in the bath this morning, and I am up to 77. At first, they didn't bother me because they didn't itch. Now, the itching has set in, and I have been going crazy. My arms and legs look like I have chicken pox. I have a bite under my chin, and I fear that when I itch it, the Italians may think that I am expressing profane body language.
As I walked into my apartment today, an Italian man on the street said to me, "I like your tattoo. I like your green sandals. I like your sexy feet. I like it all." I rolled my eyes, said "Grazie" and gave a nonchalant wave. Oh, men. Sometimes, I would really just like to know why they try to flatter American girls. What do they expect us to do but laugh and walk away?
I wish that I could live like I never have to leave here, but the reality of the brevity of this trip is constantly weighing over me. Before I left home, these six weeks (almost) seemed like such a long time to be away! Now, they simply aren't enough for me.
I want to remember every detail about being here. I don't want it to fade away when I go home. I never want to forget the feeling of living abroad--the beauty of it. I want to remember going to the store and deciding how many eggs I want to buy since they are sold in cartons carrying 2, 4 or 6 eggs, all for less than one euro. I want to remember drinking warm "milk" out of a carton and buying it for sixty-five euro-cent and feeling like an astronaut during the process. I want to remember the sounds of the "city" and how this term differs greatly from the U.S. I want to remember what it feels like to walk out my front door into a crazy market or to sit on our terrace in great companionship, overlooking the Tuscan landscape of hills. Oh, and of course, buying food in the market with my broken Italian.
The exchange rate doesn't bother me anymore since I am so used to thinking in euro. Sometimes, when things are a little pricey, I will think of them in USD to remind myself of their lasting value to me, but otherwise, I have gotten so used to working with euro, that I'm not so afraid of the currency anymore. The funny thing is that when I go back to the United States, I will feel like I have more money, but I really won't have any more than when I left!
I have two volunteer projects set up for my time here, and I am really excited for both. Starting this upcoming week, I will be gardening at Museo Stibbert. It's huge (or so it looks on the map), and I don't really know what to expect yet. I am very grateful for the opportunity to give back on this trip though. The best part is that I will be able to give back to the environment through the gardening project, as well as the people, through my other project which is volunteering at a summer camp! The summer camp gig is only two days, but the hours are a little longer than the gardening one. While there, I was told that I will be helping to teach children English! I am so excited! I was hoping to do some kind of service, and I just feel like both of these opportunities are perfect for me. I just pray that the plans carry through and that I don't miss the bus and that I can serve as God calls me to.
On Thursday, we went to the exhibit "Angry Young Men: Picasso, Miro, Dali." It was amazing. It featured their earlier works, beginning in the year 1926 and going backwards in time. Learning how their art changed over the years and what influenced it was phenomenal, and seeing their earlier works that aren't shown as much... oh! Words cannot describe! At the exhibit, one of Picasso's notebooks was displayed. This showing was the first time that it had been viewed outside of Spain. To stand there and think of the masters that created them warmed my heart. I felt like I was standing in the same room as them. Dali is my favorite painter that I have encountered yet, and his work "A Moment Before" was my favorite until this exhibit. Here, they displayed his painting called "Bleeding Roses," and it was absolutely fantastic! The colors! The details! The vibrance! Don't even Google-it because you won't understand. I tried to find an image that would do justice to show you, but the color is lost, just so much is lost that it's not even worth it. Just trust me.
Sometimes I feel like I live here for the long-run, like this is home now. It's almost as if I have always been here, as if this is all that I have ever known. Sometimes I forget that I live in a house an ocean away, lost between trees and fields, not an apartment in the middle of a crowded market with busy streets. Sometimes I forget that I go to an American college, not an International Institute. The memory of family and friends becomes fogged and distant; which of these is my life? Can two weeks really feel like this long (in a good way)? I usually get this feeling of the familiarity of life here when I am walking down the street. I get frustrated with the tourists gawking at the monumental structures of my front yard, then I laugh at my hypocrisy in it all. At the exhibit, though, I forgot that I was in Italy. Walking through, everything was in English under the Italian markers, and it didn't feel strange at all. When we left, and I realized where I was, I experienced a momentary shock as if awaking from a dream.
My cousin Derek is in the hospital at home because he had to get his trach put back in, and he has Sepsis which is keeping him there a little longer. I am very worried about him, and I feel guilty for being in Italy instead of by his side, but I keep reminding myself that, even if I were there, I couldn't change anything. I just pray that he gets better, and I ask for your prayers as well.
As I laid in bed last night, I moved the tips of my fingers over the little bumps clustered along my wrist: my bug bite rosary. I am praying for this trip. I am praying for Derek. I am praying for God.
Blessings.
Classes are going better, but I feel like I can only say that because it is the weekend, so I don't have class! My quiz on Thursday went better than I expected (I think), and I felt relieved after it was over. Ceramics has been going better since we refined our pieces. I have felt a little better about them, even though they aren't even or anything. I went into the studio yesterday to finish painting them for their first firing. I can't wait to see how they turn out, though two of them are cracked already and probably won't survive. Our professor already gave us our second assignment, but I haven't even started the first! We have to research designs and styles and ideas first. How much do I have done? Zip. Oops...
Recently, I have been accumulating a ton of mosquito bites. The funny thing about it is that I've really only see around 5 or 12 mosquitoes. I counted my bites yesterday, and I was at 55. I counted them again in the bath this morning, and I am up to 77. At first, they didn't bother me because they didn't itch. Now, the itching has set in, and I have been going crazy. My arms and legs look like I have chicken pox. I have a bite under my chin, and I fear that when I itch it, the Italians may think that I am expressing profane body language.
As I walked into my apartment today, an Italian man on the street said to me, "I like your tattoo. I like your green sandals. I like your sexy feet. I like it all." I rolled my eyes, said "Grazie" and gave a nonchalant wave. Oh, men. Sometimes, I would really just like to know why they try to flatter American girls. What do they expect us to do but laugh and walk away?
I wish that I could live like I never have to leave here, but the reality of the brevity of this trip is constantly weighing over me. Before I left home, these six weeks (almost) seemed like such a long time to be away! Now, they simply aren't enough for me.
I want to remember every detail about being here. I don't want it to fade away when I go home. I never want to forget the feeling of living abroad--the beauty of it. I want to remember going to the store and deciding how many eggs I want to buy since they are sold in cartons carrying 2, 4 or 6 eggs, all for less than one euro. I want to remember drinking warm "milk" out of a carton and buying it for sixty-five euro-cent and feeling like an astronaut during the process. I want to remember the sounds of the "city" and how this term differs greatly from the U.S. I want to remember what it feels like to walk out my front door into a crazy market or to sit on our terrace in great companionship, overlooking the Tuscan landscape of hills. Oh, and of course, buying food in the market with my broken Italian.
The exchange rate doesn't bother me anymore since I am so used to thinking in euro. Sometimes, when things are a little pricey, I will think of them in USD to remind myself of their lasting value to me, but otherwise, I have gotten so used to working with euro, that I'm not so afraid of the currency anymore. The funny thing is that when I go back to the United States, I will feel like I have more money, but I really won't have any more than when I left!
I have two volunteer projects set up for my time here, and I am really excited for both. Starting this upcoming week, I will be gardening at Museo Stibbert. It's huge (or so it looks on the map), and I don't really know what to expect yet. I am very grateful for the opportunity to give back on this trip though. The best part is that I will be able to give back to the environment through the gardening project, as well as the people, through my other project which is volunteering at a summer camp! The summer camp gig is only two days, but the hours are a little longer than the gardening one. While there, I was told that I will be helping to teach children English! I am so excited! I was hoping to do some kind of service, and I just feel like both of these opportunities are perfect for me. I just pray that the plans carry through and that I don't miss the bus and that I can serve as God calls me to.
On Thursday, we went to the exhibit "Angry Young Men: Picasso, Miro, Dali." It was amazing. It featured their earlier works, beginning in the year 1926 and going backwards in time. Learning how their art changed over the years and what influenced it was phenomenal, and seeing their earlier works that aren't shown as much... oh! Words cannot describe! At the exhibit, one of Picasso's notebooks was displayed. This showing was the first time that it had been viewed outside of Spain. To stand there and think of the masters that created them warmed my heart. I felt like I was standing in the same room as them. Dali is my favorite painter that I have encountered yet, and his work "A Moment Before" was my favorite until this exhibit. Here, they displayed his painting called "Bleeding Roses," and it was absolutely fantastic! The colors! The details! The vibrance! Don't even Google-it because you won't understand. I tried to find an image that would do justice to show you, but the color is lost, just so much is lost that it's not even worth it. Just trust me.
Sometimes I feel like I live here for the long-run, like this is home now. It's almost as if I have always been here, as if this is all that I have ever known. Sometimes I forget that I live in a house an ocean away, lost between trees and fields, not an apartment in the middle of a crowded market with busy streets. Sometimes I forget that I go to an American college, not an International Institute. The memory of family and friends becomes fogged and distant; which of these is my life? Can two weeks really feel like this long (in a good way)? I usually get this feeling of the familiarity of life here when I am walking down the street. I get frustrated with the tourists gawking at the monumental structures of my front yard, then I laugh at my hypocrisy in it all. At the exhibit, though, I forgot that I was in Italy. Walking through, everything was in English under the Italian markers, and it didn't feel strange at all. When we left, and I realized where I was, I experienced a momentary shock as if awaking from a dream.
My cousin Derek is in the hospital at home because he had to get his trach put back in, and he has Sepsis which is keeping him there a little longer. I am very worried about him, and I feel guilty for being in Italy instead of by his side, but I keep reminding myself that, even if I were there, I couldn't change anything. I just pray that he gets better, and I ask for your prayers as well.
As I laid in bed last night, I moved the tips of my fingers over the little bumps clustered along my wrist: my bug bite rosary. I am praying for this trip. I am praying for Derek. I am praying for God.
Blessings.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Catching up!
So I have survived thus far, and I sometimes wonder how because I feel like I have been running and running and running non-stop since classes started.
I was completely exhausted when I came home from class on Monday. Completely discouraged, I started to wonder if this was the right place for me. Sometimes I feel like a fake artist or something because my creativity tends to come in phases, and it hasn't been with me lately. My first Ceramics class resulted in some lumpy pieces of clay. If a stranger had walked into that room and looked at my pieces, he/she would have thought that it was a kindergarten classroom. For a third year college student, it was pretty discouraging.
Oh Italian language: I don't even know where to begin. I was taught more in the first day of class than what I learned in the first half of the year in Spanish 1. Seriously. And I say "I was taught" because that's really what it was. A professor just talking at me. I didn't learn much, but I have a quiz on it all tomorrow. I was freaking out in class today because I didn't understand anything that the professor was saying, and I didn't know what to do. Hopefully, it will be okay after tomorrow since we will have a feel for her quizzes.
You know how people say that English is the hardest language to learn? Yeah, you know. Well, let me tell you. I highly disagree. I mean, come on. In English, our adjectives are adjectives. They do not change if you are a boy or a girl or if there is one of you or twenty of you. Italian sucks in that way. If I want to say "Sarah has a red shirt," I have to say, "Sarah ha una camicia rossa." If I want to say, "Sarah and Marco have red shirts," I have to say, "Sarah e Marco hanno una camicia rosse." I think... I could very well be wrong because I simply don't understand conjugating adjectives!
Much has happened, but I really need to start studying before I get too too tired! I wish that I had more time to write and blog and everything, but hopefully I will be able to truly catch up over the weekend! One more day!
Blessings.
I was completely exhausted when I came home from class on Monday. Completely discouraged, I started to wonder if this was the right place for me. Sometimes I feel like a fake artist or something because my creativity tends to come in phases, and it hasn't been with me lately. My first Ceramics class resulted in some lumpy pieces of clay. If a stranger had walked into that room and looked at my pieces, he/she would have thought that it was a kindergarten classroom. For a third year college student, it was pretty discouraging.
Oh Italian language: I don't even know where to begin. I was taught more in the first day of class than what I learned in the first half of the year in Spanish 1. Seriously. And I say "I was taught" because that's really what it was. A professor just talking at me. I didn't learn much, but I have a quiz on it all tomorrow. I was freaking out in class today because I didn't understand anything that the professor was saying, and I didn't know what to do. Hopefully, it will be okay after tomorrow since we will have a feel for her quizzes.
You know how people say that English is the hardest language to learn? Yeah, you know. Well, let me tell you. I highly disagree. I mean, come on. In English, our adjectives are adjectives. They do not change if you are a boy or a girl or if there is one of you or twenty of you. Italian sucks in that way. If I want to say "Sarah has a red shirt," I have to say, "Sarah ha una camicia rossa." If I want to say, "Sarah and Marco have red shirts," I have to say, "Sarah e Marco hanno una camicia rosse." I think... I could very well be wrong because I simply don't understand conjugating adjectives!
Much has happened, but I really need to start studying before I get too too tired! I wish that I had more time to write and blog and everything, but hopefully I will be able to truly catch up over the weekend! One more day!
Blessings.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
And then I was thinking...
I posted my blog, and it was very introverted and dorky and filled with the kinds of things that I should probably just keep to myself because my writing suffers when I get sentimental. Suddenly, I realized that I started diverting my travel blog into other things: my turtle, my faith, Arizona. It's so funny. She was right all along, "Let your broccoli tell you how to eat it!"
And now I was going to actually write about my day and what I did and how things are going. But that's just it. Things are going. Life is slowing down for now. I was frightened today, though. It felt as though the church bells were chiming every five minutes instead of every hour or half-hour. My heart feared that time might be rushing past me today, then I concluded that the bells must ring more often on Sundays. I hope.
And now I was going to actually write about my day and what I did and how things are going. But that's just it. Things are going. Life is slowing down for now. I was frightened today, though. It felt as though the church bells were chiming every five minutes instead of every hour or half-hour. My heart feared that time might be rushing past me today, then I concluded that the bells must ring more often on Sundays. I hope.
Some things are just meant to be. Corny, but really.
I wasn't going to blog today, but I just have to. I do.
We went out for gelato and to scope out our classes, and after finding out that our classes are apparently behind a garage door (so says the address that we were lead to) and after getting ripped off for the worst tasting gelato ever, I saw a little turtle guy thing sitting on the trash can that I threw my gelato cup into. I am not sure what he is made out of, but he's hard and solid. I got really excited when I saw him, but then I was too afraid to pick him up because I always have irrational fears that random objects that appear to have been purposely placed somewhere may have drugs inside or be made out of something illegal or be explosive. One of my roommates, Tess, picked it up and carried it home for me, and when we got back, I gave it a bath. Now he sits on my bedside stand. My little Elijah reminder. I hope that my tortoise at home is doing well.
I feel very comfortable with being in Italy now. Since it has been a full week of being here, the whole vacation feeling has left, and I have accepted that this is home now. Sometimes, the reality of how far this actually is from home hits me, but I still don't quite miss home yet. It's funny because all of the fears that I have felt towards coming here have melted away. Especially after learning to make simple conversation with the locals and becoming good friends with my roommates and settling into our apartment for a while before starting class. (I am still anxious to start class, but I am certain that that soon will melt away too, especially by the 2nd or 3rd class; they run 2.5 hrs. each, everyday!) Anyways, I feel calm. I feel like this is where I am supposed to be right now. This is my time to do something big. This is right. For me. Here. Now.
I know that it sounds really cheesy and corny, but it's so very true in ways that most readers probably wouldn't understand. I am so thankful for so much right now. Italy is beautiful. There is hope. I'm really in love with God right now for giving me these opportunities and for showing me how great life is. He truly has carried me to a world that I never thought could really exist.
Each day gets closer to the fourth, and once the fourth is over, the days get closer to the next July 4th. I can't believe that it will be three years tomorrow. Really. Why does that number get bigger each time? Even from a world away, I miss you, although I guess we have been this far for a while. <3SEB, TWB
Saturday, July 2, 2011
You know that you're a writer when...
Today, I went to the same shop three times. Finally, upon the third entrance, I made my purchase. I fell in love with these journals that a leather shop down the street sells. They're absolutely beautiful. Made in Italy, of course. I swear that our street is the leather capitol of Florence. When we open our window in the morning, the scent of it radiates into our apartment. Anyways, I contemplated my journal purchase for a long time because I had a hard time contemplating if it was in my moral capacity to buy something made of leather. As a vegetarian, it sure seems like a contradiction, but I decided that it was okay. I hope that doesn't make me a hypocrite. Anyways, I bought two journals, then down the street, I found two small notepads that I think Katlin will love! I walked home with my new books held to my chest and a giant grin across my face. Mmmm.
This morning, at one of the markets, there was a flea market with cheap clothes. It's difficult to try things on when you don't go into an actual store to make purchases, so I had to guess on sizes and what-not. The first dress that I purchased in Rome was this way, and when I took it back to the hotel, it didn't fit, so I decided that I will give it to Katlin. However, I would really like to purchase myself some clothes here, so I was really betting on today's purchases fitting. I got a pair of brown pants made of a really light fabric and a green dress. It seems like most of the clothes here are made very small. Italians are so thin! Luckily, though, the clothes fit like a charm! I couldn't be happier!
This morning, we went on the "Discover Florence Treasure Hunt." It was a lot harder to find things than I thought that it would be, but it's been a great way to get to know the city. I discovered my favorite pastry shop. It's called Cafe Gilli, and they sell torta di fruta that is amazing! Tomorrow is part two of the "Treasure Hunt," then we have to put all of the pictures from it together in a slide show in hopes of winning certificates to a restaurant!
I scoped out a tattoo shop today and decided that it's looking like my Italian tattoo dream is not a possibility. They gave me an estimate, and their price was more than double what I was willing to pay! It's just a small, simple design. I figure that I'll just take it back to the States to get because I can probably get it there for nearly 1/4 of what they were asking. Sure, it won't have the "Made in Italy" touch, but it will still have the same meaning for me as the beginning of my travels!
I'm realizing that I really should have brought my iPod. I'm going crazy without all of my music, and I've been youtube-ing and myspace-ing anything that I can. I didn't think that I would miss it because I didn't realize that I would actually have down time to relax and everything. Why did I imagine this trip as being run-run-run the entire time? I mean, sure, there are many times when it is a lot of running, but it's not always like that.
Tonight, my roommates and I are cooking up some pasta for supper. This will be our first experience of cooking a meal for ourselves, and I'm excited to see how it turns out!
Here marks an entire week of being away from home. It feels like my "vacation" should be over, but it's just beginning. Classes start on Monday!
Blessings.
This morning, at one of the markets, there was a flea market with cheap clothes. It's difficult to try things on when you don't go into an actual store to make purchases, so I had to guess on sizes and what-not. The first dress that I purchased in Rome was this way, and when I took it back to the hotel, it didn't fit, so I decided that I will give it to Katlin. However, I would really like to purchase myself some clothes here, so I was really betting on today's purchases fitting. I got a pair of brown pants made of a really light fabric and a green dress. It seems like most of the clothes here are made very small. Italians are so thin! Luckily, though, the clothes fit like a charm! I couldn't be happier!
This morning, we went on the "Discover Florence Treasure Hunt." It was a lot harder to find things than I thought that it would be, but it's been a great way to get to know the city. I discovered my favorite pastry shop. It's called Cafe Gilli, and they sell torta di fruta that is amazing! Tomorrow is part two of the "Treasure Hunt," then we have to put all of the pictures from it together in a slide show in hopes of winning certificates to a restaurant!
I scoped out a tattoo shop today and decided that it's looking like my Italian tattoo dream is not a possibility. They gave me an estimate, and their price was more than double what I was willing to pay! It's just a small, simple design. I figure that I'll just take it back to the States to get because I can probably get it there for nearly 1/4 of what they were asking. Sure, it won't have the "Made in Italy" touch, but it will still have the same meaning for me as the beginning of my travels!
I'm realizing that I really should have brought my iPod. I'm going crazy without all of my music, and I've been youtube-ing and myspace-ing anything that I can. I didn't think that I would miss it because I didn't realize that I would actually have down time to relax and everything. Why did I imagine this trip as being run-run-run the entire time? I mean, sure, there are many times when it is a lot of running, but it's not always like that.
Tonight, my roommates and I are cooking up some pasta for supper. This will be our first experience of cooking a meal for ourselves, and I'm excited to see how it turns out!
Here marks an entire week of being away from home. It feels like my "vacation" should be over, but it's just beginning. Classes start on Monday!
Blessings.
Friday, July 1, 2011
"If you want to be happy, be."
Today, we met a very eccentric wine maker, who apparently reads Tolstoy. He gave us many words of wisdom on life, and it's hard to tell which were his and which weren't. He told us (in Italian) to "Eat. Drink. Love strong. And do not fear death." He told us that wine is life, and told us the very extremes that it can do (i.e. make you remember, make you forget; provide nourishment, lead to death; make you happy, make you cry; extremes being just enough, too much). He reminded us that the only thing in the middle of these extremes is ourselves. I know that it may be cheesy or whatever, but I really enjoyed hearing it from a happy Italian who passionately enjoys life.
I guess that it now goes without saying that we did a wine tasting today! The man that I just wrote about gave us a tour of his vineyard/gardens and into the wine cellar before taking us up to taste! We tried three different "vinos rosso" and a dessert wine. With the wine, they served us a "before dinner snack" which held me over a little past dinner. Instead of the American wine tasting of sipping, swishing, and spitting, we drank each glass. I'm not complaining though because it was delicious! I bought a bottle of the second wine that we had, even though what I really wanted to do was to have it shipped home, but it's crazy expensive. Our program instructors said that we can take up to 2 bottles home in our luggage, but I'm not sure if I will be able to since I am under the legal drinking age in the States. What a bummer! Anyone have some suggestions?
Before we did wine tasting, we went to Siena, a small but beautiful little Tuscan town. We started with a tour of the city before being let free for lunch. Here is how I described Siena in an e-mail to a friend: They're long-time rivals with the Florentines. All over the city, they have imitations of the "Capitoline Wolf" (or she-wolf, as they call it) statue because they say that it is "better to be Roman than Florentine." So anyways, all over town, they have flags displayed because the town is split into "contradas" and each has a flag with colors and an animal. The people are born into whichever contrada they live at, and they have to show loyalty to it their whole lives. What the contradas are for is a horse race called the Palio which is held twice a year, once tomorrow (July 2nd) and the other on August 16th, both for religious reasons. So anyways, the whole town was in an uproar today in preparations for the race. It rained yesterday, so the horses were unable to practice. Today, it completely stormed. The track (the center square in town) was flooded and it was hailing and thundering: the whole deal. While we were stranded in a cafe, waiting for the rain to stop, a girl wrapped an owl contrada scarf around her. We were in a cafe that was a part of the elephant contrada. The waiter joked with her that if it had been anyone else (those flirty Italians), they would have had to stand outside with the owl scarf. They take these races so seriously and base their entire lives around them. It's such a funny yet interesting thing. Some of the girls compared the emblems to the houses in Harry Potter.
I hope that I covered enough. I wish that I could share more, but I am just so exhausted recently! This past week as been very busy and very exhausting. I've been napping alot, which is probably bad, but my entire body aches in exhaustion. Nevertheless, we are about to go out for coffee. It's a Friday night, Natalie, c'mon, you have to do something!
Blessings.
I guess that it now goes without saying that we did a wine tasting today! The man that I just wrote about gave us a tour of his vineyard/gardens and into the wine cellar before taking us up to taste! We tried three different "vinos rosso" and a dessert wine. With the wine, they served us a "before dinner snack" which held me over a little past dinner. Instead of the American wine tasting of sipping, swishing, and spitting, we drank each glass. I'm not complaining though because it was delicious! I bought a bottle of the second wine that we had, even though what I really wanted to do was to have it shipped home, but it's crazy expensive. Our program instructors said that we can take up to 2 bottles home in our luggage, but I'm not sure if I will be able to since I am under the legal drinking age in the States. What a bummer! Anyone have some suggestions?
Before we did wine tasting, we went to Siena, a small but beautiful little Tuscan town. We started with a tour of the city before being let free for lunch. Here is how I described Siena in an e-mail to a friend: They're long-time rivals with the Florentines. All over the city, they have imitations of the "Capitoline Wolf" (or she-wolf, as they call it) statue because they say that it is "better to be Roman than Florentine." So anyways, all over town, they have flags displayed because the town is split into "contradas" and each has a flag with colors and an animal. The people are born into whichever contrada they live at, and they have to show loyalty to it their whole lives. What the contradas are for is a horse race called the Palio which is held twice a year, once tomorrow (July 2nd) and the other on August 16th, both for religious reasons. So anyways, the whole town was in an uproar today in preparations for the race. It rained yesterday, so the horses were unable to practice. Today, it completely stormed. The track (the center square in town) was flooded and it was hailing and thundering: the whole deal. While we were stranded in a cafe, waiting for the rain to stop, a girl wrapped an owl contrada scarf around her. We were in a cafe that was a part of the elephant contrada. The waiter joked with her that if it had been anyone else (those flirty Italians), they would have had to stand outside with the owl scarf. They take these races so seriously and base their entire lives around them. It's such a funny yet interesting thing. Some of the girls compared the emblems to the houses in Harry Potter.
I hope that I covered enough. I wish that I could share more, but I am just so exhausted recently! This past week as been very busy and very exhausting. I've been napping alot, which is probably bad, but my entire body aches in exhaustion. Nevertheless, we are about to go out for coffee. It's a Friday night, Natalie, c'mon, you have to do something!
Blessings.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
My oh my...
I honestly don't even know where to begin! I've missed what? two days of internet access, and I already have so much to share!
On Tuesday, we went to Vatican City. We toured the Castle of Saint Angelo; at the top, there was an amazing view of the city of Rome. The funny part about this area of town is that on the first day, Paige and I walked around the castle and everything and never noticed the Vatican just a little ways off. It's funny how when surrounded in a city of beautiful buildings, some can be easily overlooked. But believe me, once we got closer to it, I was in a state of shock. When they say "world's biggest church", they really mean it. It was fantastic! Inside was so delicately designed. Pieta was phenomenal.
We moved to Florence yesterday, and it was a day of much sleep. It was about a 4.5 hr bus ride from Rome, and I slept most of the way. I did get to see a lot beautiful Tuscan landscapes and traditional homes during the times when my eyes were open. When we arrived at our apartment, we settled in and then had to wait for our Land Lord to arrive for a meeting. There was a three hour span that we had to wait at home for him, and he came 15 minutes after those 3 hours were over! It's okay though because since it's so hot, I spent the whole time sleeping. Our apartment is beautiful though! The living room window overlooks San Lorenzo basilica and market, and to the left, we can see the Duomo. Each of our bedrooms has a bathroom, and we even have a little set of stairs that goes up to a very nice sized terrace! It's great to look over the rooftops and at the mountains in the distance or to sit there in the dark and listen to the city.
It didn't take long at all for me to realize differences between Rome and Florence. I feel much safer walking in the streets in Florence. By safer, I mean, I have a smaller fear of getting run over because the streets are much smaller, so there are much less cars! At the same time though, it can be weird because the men are much more forward here than Rome. In Rome, they would whistle or shout out a "Ciao, bella." In Florence, the men come right up to you and start talking all sorts of cheesy pick-up lines like, "You dropped something...my heart." One man came up to me tonight and put his hand lightly on my arm, saying, "Ciao, bella. You beautiful. I love you." It's so hard not to laugh. Thus far, no one has been rude or violent or anything. They're just funny! I know not to respond to them, but really, sometimes I just want to laugh. Like when we first moved into our apartment, the six of us girls were walking into the building and men on the street were stopping to watch us. "New sexy ladies, here." "Must be models." "Mmm, sexy." Sometimes I just wonder about them. What do they expect us to do, really?
Today, we had our first experience of being sent off into the Mercato Centrale (Central Market- an indoor market that is open in the mornings with all kinds of fresh foods). It was beautiful, really. "Voire dua, per favore." "Basta?" "Si." "Uno y trienta." "Grazie." "Prego." (Excuse my spellings!) I haven't taken any Italian yet, but it's wonderful to put a foreign language to use. Even simple conversation makes me heart smile. The market is chaos. I have learned that you really have to speak up to get what you want. Use your elbows a little, you know? I spent less than ten euro and got enough fruits to last me, hopefully the weekend. I love it. Can we start this in America, please? Kill the manners. Make life a chaotic mass of beauty.
I find myself comparing everything to America. I guess that's supposed to be normal with culture shock or whatever, but it makes me dread the thought of actually having to leave this place. I know that I still have weeks left here, but it feels like I have been here for a long time. I don't know how else to explain it.
Oh my goodness. So I said about the cars being very little and everything. I think those Smart cars are made out of plastic or something. I was walking down the sidewalk, and someone was trying to un-parallel park. It was quite amusing. There was maybe an inch on either side of the car, and the driver backed up, smashing right into the car behind them before pulling out of the parking spot. Instead of smashing, however, the bumpers bent together in a bouncy mesh like the bubbles in a lava lamp. It was hilarious. No wonder all of the cars in town are so scratched up!
There's just something about getting a stamp in your passport when you travel abroad, and guess what? I didn't get one! I'm so bummed about it! Is that a stupid thing to be upset about? I was really hoping to have a goal of filling my passport with stamps before it expires, but how can I do that if they don't stamp?! Instead, I have to pay 18 euro and fill out some Declaration form. I don't want an expensive piece of paper. I want a stamp! Argh!
Okay, I'm done! Anyways, umm, I mailed 8 postcards today, and it cost me 13,60 euro. I wrote them as if there would be a follow up, but I don't know if I can afford one! Ha! If you get one, enjoy it because you probably won't get another!
Tonight, we had a cooking class on the other side of Pointe Vecchio. Our instructor, Fabrizio, taught us how to make fetticcini pasta from scratch as well as tiramisu and a delicious apertivo! At the end, he even gave us a copy of the recipes! There was no way that I would have remembered everything as we went. It was very fast-paced! Fabrizio was impressed with my egg-cracking skills, but not so much on the tomato slicing. I cut big sandwich tomatoes, but he wanted thin, stackable tomatoes. "No bene," he shook his head. Oops! Nevertheless, everything was delicious! We were all so proud of ourselves!
Today, we took a tour of Florence: just a basic walking tour. Near Pointe Vecchio, there is a mass of locks just hanging on one of the roadside barriers. It's beautiful. Our tourguide said, "If you want to lock a love forever, you hang lock and write names on it and throw key in the river. That way, you never lose love." I love it. Maybe I should make one for Italy and me.
Blessings.
On Tuesday, we went to Vatican City. We toured the Castle of Saint Angelo; at the top, there was an amazing view of the city of Rome. The funny part about this area of town is that on the first day, Paige and I walked around the castle and everything and never noticed the Vatican just a little ways off. It's funny how when surrounded in a city of beautiful buildings, some can be easily overlooked. But believe me, once we got closer to it, I was in a state of shock. When they say "world's biggest church", they really mean it. It was fantastic! Inside was so delicately designed. Pieta was phenomenal.
We moved to Florence yesterday, and it was a day of much sleep. It was about a 4.5 hr bus ride from Rome, and I slept most of the way. I did get to see a lot beautiful Tuscan landscapes and traditional homes during the times when my eyes were open. When we arrived at our apartment, we settled in and then had to wait for our Land Lord to arrive for a meeting. There was a three hour span that we had to wait at home for him, and he came 15 minutes after those 3 hours were over! It's okay though because since it's so hot, I spent the whole time sleeping. Our apartment is beautiful though! The living room window overlooks San Lorenzo basilica and market, and to the left, we can see the Duomo. Each of our bedrooms has a bathroom, and we even have a little set of stairs that goes up to a very nice sized terrace! It's great to look over the rooftops and at the mountains in the distance or to sit there in the dark and listen to the city.
It didn't take long at all for me to realize differences between Rome and Florence. I feel much safer walking in the streets in Florence. By safer, I mean, I have a smaller fear of getting run over because the streets are much smaller, so there are much less cars! At the same time though, it can be weird because the men are much more forward here than Rome. In Rome, they would whistle or shout out a "Ciao, bella." In Florence, the men come right up to you and start talking all sorts of cheesy pick-up lines like, "You dropped something...my heart." One man came up to me tonight and put his hand lightly on my arm, saying, "Ciao, bella. You beautiful. I love you." It's so hard not to laugh. Thus far, no one has been rude or violent or anything. They're just funny! I know not to respond to them, but really, sometimes I just want to laugh. Like when we first moved into our apartment, the six of us girls were walking into the building and men on the street were stopping to watch us. "New sexy ladies, here." "Must be models." "Mmm, sexy." Sometimes I just wonder about them. What do they expect us to do, really?
Today, we had our first experience of being sent off into the Mercato Centrale (Central Market- an indoor market that is open in the mornings with all kinds of fresh foods). It was beautiful, really. "Voire dua, per favore." "Basta?" "Si." "Uno y trienta." "Grazie." "Prego." (Excuse my spellings!) I haven't taken any Italian yet, but it's wonderful to put a foreign language to use. Even simple conversation makes me heart smile. The market is chaos. I have learned that you really have to speak up to get what you want. Use your elbows a little, you know? I spent less than ten euro and got enough fruits to last me, hopefully the weekend. I love it. Can we start this in America, please? Kill the manners. Make life a chaotic mass of beauty.
I find myself comparing everything to America. I guess that's supposed to be normal with culture shock or whatever, but it makes me dread the thought of actually having to leave this place. I know that I still have weeks left here, but it feels like I have been here for a long time. I don't know how else to explain it.
Oh my goodness. So I said about the cars being very little and everything. I think those Smart cars are made out of plastic or something. I was walking down the sidewalk, and someone was trying to un-parallel park. It was quite amusing. There was maybe an inch on either side of the car, and the driver backed up, smashing right into the car behind them before pulling out of the parking spot. Instead of smashing, however, the bumpers bent together in a bouncy mesh like the bubbles in a lava lamp. It was hilarious. No wonder all of the cars in town are so scratched up!
There's just something about getting a stamp in your passport when you travel abroad, and guess what? I didn't get one! I'm so bummed about it! Is that a stupid thing to be upset about? I was really hoping to have a goal of filling my passport with stamps before it expires, but how can I do that if they don't stamp?! Instead, I have to pay 18 euro and fill out some Declaration form. I don't want an expensive piece of paper. I want a stamp! Argh!
Okay, I'm done! Anyways, umm, I mailed 8 postcards today, and it cost me 13,60 euro. I wrote them as if there would be a follow up, but I don't know if I can afford one! Ha! If you get one, enjoy it because you probably won't get another!
Tonight, we had a cooking class on the other side of Pointe Vecchio. Our instructor, Fabrizio, taught us how to make fetticcini pasta from scratch as well as tiramisu and a delicious apertivo! At the end, he even gave us a copy of the recipes! There was no way that I would have remembered everything as we went. It was very fast-paced! Fabrizio was impressed with my egg-cracking skills, but not so much on the tomato slicing. I cut big sandwich tomatoes, but he wanted thin, stackable tomatoes. "No bene," he shook his head. Oops! Nevertheless, everything was delicious! We were all so proud of ourselves!
Today, we took a tour of Florence: just a basic walking tour. Near Pointe Vecchio, there is a mass of locks just hanging on one of the roadside barriers. It's beautiful. Our tourguide said, "If you want to lock a love forever, you hang lock and write names on it and throw key in the river. That way, you never lose love." I love it. Maybe I should make one for Italy and me.
Blessings.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Roma, continued!
Anyways, as I was saying...
Our hotel room is beautiful. The bathroom is very small; there is just enough room to turn around. Sitting on the toilet is funny because my knees hit the shower doors. The shower is another funny story--it is a square that is maybe 1.5ft on each side, maybe. I bump my elbows on the sides when washing my hair, and there is an "Alarm" string that just hangs by the wall, and I am always afraid of accidentally giving it a yank when I move my arms (This may sound unreasonable, but the string has a small, clear rectangle on the end of it that weighs it down and makes it susceptible to snags of the elbow). Nevertheless, it serves its purpose, and I love it for the experience of it!
Yesterday, my roommate, Paige, and I went for a walk around the city. At every street corner was "Oh, look at this!" "It's beautiful!" "Oh my gosh!" "Let's go this way!" "Oh my!" "Watch out, scooter!" The exclamations are endless. I call this the "I love" stage. We have just arrived in this beautiful, foreign land, and everything is a wonder to us.
Thank you to those who warned me that people drive crazy here! Surprisingly, they drive on the same side of the road as in the U.S. (How did I not know this?). However, the vespas are everywhere, and they run the road however they damn well please. It's not surprising, though, because the roads here are so small; they usually have to squeeze between people and tour groups and cars or box trucks to get anywhere. Oh, the cars. The cars here are all so small! They make the Honda Fit and the Toyota Prius look big! There are a lot of those little 2-passenger "Smart" cars, and the rest are just really tiny versions of vehicles! It's amusing to watch them fit comfortably down tiny alleys.
As for sight-seeing, we have done much. Our familiarity with Rome can at least get us to our favorite shop-spots, gellaterias & back to our hotel, of course. Yesterday, we were merely adventuring: getting to know the city, the places to eat, where we could get internet, etc. Today, our program took us on a tour of Ancient Rome! Can I say that it was amazing, or should I just let you assume?
First, we went through the heart of Rome, near our hotel. We are in the middle of the "Storica" district, which is very political. We went to the Senate building and other political buildings, all marked by both the Italian and the European flags. Along the way, we visited the Pantheon: the best-preserved ancient building. It surpassed my expectations. The pictures in my Art History class gave no justice. It's darkened exterior was merely a precursor to the wonder that it held inside. Now a church, we had to enter in silence, though the tourist noise level was a little loud anyways (It's hard not to be when "wow"s cannot be contained). The occula was much larger than I expected, but it let it plenty of light; the magic of seeing light pass through, reflecting on the interior, spotlighting the ancient statues inside seemed unreal. While inside, we made a stop at Raphael's tomb (the painter, not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle; sorry).
We also went to the Trevi Fountain and threw in coins in wishing for love, of course. It seemed pretty busy today, though, so hopefully the fountain heard my request!
After the fountain, we went to the Coloseum. There, we saw the Arch of Constantine and passed the Column of Trajan as well as his ruins and some of the Caesar's ruins. The entire atmosphere felt like a step back in time. Men even stood around dressed as ancient Roman guards. Even though the inside of the building was extremely worn-down, I could imagine well what it must have been like. One of the best parts of the Coloseum was probably while we were just inside the outer wall, waiting for the rest of our group, and old, fallen column pieces are strewn around, so we sat on them. I looked at Paige and said, "You know, just sitting on ruins... at the Coloseum...in Rome...Italy. No big!"
Shopping is crazy because the people will negotiate with you all right! If you don't like their price and try to leave, they will nag at you until you tell them what you think you should pay for the item, and then they will sell it to you for that, but if you were just looking, they get very offended. One seller even followed us down the street, offering lower and lower prices! There comes a point where it gets annoying.
I think that it's funny because it pretty much is how people say. Boys and men will whistle and hoot at a group of us girls walking buy. Often, when walking, "Ciao, ladies/senoras." is heard when eyes accidentally meet. It's all friendly though. Really. I mean, we never respond, except maybe a "ciao" and a wave. I just find it amusing because it's a true sort of stereotype.
Here's the plan for the next few days: tomorrow, we are going to Christian Rome, including the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel, as well as several churches. On Wednesday, we move to Florence to our apartment and begin orientation. I can't wait to finally settle in; I suck at living out of a suitcase, especially since everything inside was extremely shaken up from the flight here.
I don't think that I have talked at all about food. Mari will be disappointed with me because she wants a food blog! Yesterday, our program instructors took us out for some traditional cuisine with all four courses. I was absolutely stuffed by the end of it! We had a variety of appetizers that were different, but delicious, and the main course was pasta, but it wasn't just noodles or anything. The pasta was these little balls of dough filled with potato. Tasty! (I know that I said four parts, but the parts that I am excluding are because I didn't eat them due to my vegetarianism!) For dessert, we had tiramisu that was so rich that it melted in my mouth. I really wanted a glass of milk after that though.
Instead of milk, Paige and I went out to toast our first night in Italy. We each had a glass of white wine, which was very good, much sweeter than I expected. Tonight, with dinner, I had a red wine, but it wasn't as good; it tasted very strongly of alcohol, almost like a vodka--it burned going down. I ate it with pizza which was delicious but huge; I could barely finish half of it. When we ordered, I think that we expected "pizza" to be like one slice, not an entire pizza. Afterwards, we went out for gelato. I got peach this time. Yesterday, I had a strawberry one. I am in love with all things fruity, which really makes me crave juice. I will probably drink a million glasses of the "blood red" orange-juice that they serve at breakfast at the hotel!
So, am I missing home? Only a little. I think that I miss the familiarity of knowing the people that I am around all day. I kind of stick to hanging out with my roommate here because I know her the best, and we have a lot in common. Hopefully, I will get to know some of the other girls (I say girls because there are only five guys in the program) better in the coming days. I'm just not too enthusiastic about it because thus far, I'm having a difficult time relating to many of them. It's just strange because I guess I expected most of the students to be on their first big adventure, penny-pinching, and excited. A lot of the other students have the "been-there, done-that" attitude or act like they've seen/done better. It's pretty discouraging, so I just try to keep my distance. I think that's my problem. I don't like big groups. I like groups of 3, maybe 4 people. Anymore than that? No, grazie.
Ha! That reminds me. Vendors and waiters and what-not will often ask questions, and my automatic response is often, "No, grazie." Then, however, they think that I'm Italian just because I said one word, so they start rambling on and on in Italian! I usually just shake my hand and walk away or say that I speak English. I find this amusing though, but I don't blame them since there are many walks of life that live and speak Italian. I can't pick one out when we're walking down the street!
Well, I'm waiting for pictures to upload onto Facebook, and I think that I've shared enough about Rome. I am very excited to continue in Italy, even if my body is exhausted from the heat and the tons of walking. It's worth it all. Every drop of sweat, every dollar spent, every glass of strong wine!
Blessings.
Our hotel room is beautiful. The bathroom is very small; there is just enough room to turn around. Sitting on the toilet is funny because my knees hit the shower doors. The shower is another funny story--it is a square that is maybe 1.5ft on each side, maybe. I bump my elbows on the sides when washing my hair, and there is an "Alarm" string that just hangs by the wall, and I am always afraid of accidentally giving it a yank when I move my arms (This may sound unreasonable, but the string has a small, clear rectangle on the end of it that weighs it down and makes it susceptible to snags of the elbow). Nevertheless, it serves its purpose, and I love it for the experience of it!
Yesterday, my roommate, Paige, and I went for a walk around the city. At every street corner was "Oh, look at this!" "It's beautiful!" "Oh my gosh!" "Let's go this way!" "Oh my!" "Watch out, scooter!" The exclamations are endless. I call this the "I love" stage. We have just arrived in this beautiful, foreign land, and everything is a wonder to us.
Thank you to those who warned me that people drive crazy here! Surprisingly, they drive on the same side of the road as in the U.S. (How did I not know this?). However, the vespas are everywhere, and they run the road however they damn well please. It's not surprising, though, because the roads here are so small; they usually have to squeeze between people and tour groups and cars or box trucks to get anywhere. Oh, the cars. The cars here are all so small! They make the Honda Fit and the Toyota Prius look big! There are a lot of those little 2-passenger "Smart" cars, and the rest are just really tiny versions of vehicles! It's amusing to watch them fit comfortably down tiny alleys.
As for sight-seeing, we have done much. Our familiarity with Rome can at least get us to our favorite shop-spots, gellaterias & back to our hotel, of course. Yesterday, we were merely adventuring: getting to know the city, the places to eat, where we could get internet, etc. Today, our program took us on a tour of Ancient Rome! Can I say that it was amazing, or should I just let you assume?
First, we went through the heart of Rome, near our hotel. We are in the middle of the "Storica" district, which is very political. We went to the Senate building and other political buildings, all marked by both the Italian and the European flags. Along the way, we visited the Pantheon: the best-preserved ancient building. It surpassed my expectations. The pictures in my Art History class gave no justice. It's darkened exterior was merely a precursor to the wonder that it held inside. Now a church, we had to enter in silence, though the tourist noise level was a little loud anyways (It's hard not to be when "wow"s cannot be contained). The occula was much larger than I expected, but it let it plenty of light; the magic of seeing light pass through, reflecting on the interior, spotlighting the ancient statues inside seemed unreal. While inside, we made a stop at Raphael's tomb (the painter, not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle; sorry).
We also went to the Trevi Fountain and threw in coins in wishing for love, of course. It seemed pretty busy today, though, so hopefully the fountain heard my request!
After the fountain, we went to the Coloseum. There, we saw the Arch of Constantine and passed the Column of Trajan as well as his ruins and some of the Caesar's ruins. The entire atmosphere felt like a step back in time. Men even stood around dressed as ancient Roman guards. Even though the inside of the building was extremely worn-down, I could imagine well what it must have been like. One of the best parts of the Coloseum was probably while we were just inside the outer wall, waiting for the rest of our group, and old, fallen column pieces are strewn around, so we sat on them. I looked at Paige and said, "You know, just sitting on ruins... at the Coloseum...in Rome...Italy. No big!"
Shopping is crazy because the people will negotiate with you all right! If you don't like their price and try to leave, they will nag at you until you tell them what you think you should pay for the item, and then they will sell it to you for that, but if you were just looking, they get very offended. One seller even followed us down the street, offering lower and lower prices! There comes a point where it gets annoying.
I think that it's funny because it pretty much is how people say. Boys and men will whistle and hoot at a group of us girls walking buy. Often, when walking, "Ciao, ladies/senoras." is heard when eyes accidentally meet. It's all friendly though. Really. I mean, we never respond, except maybe a "ciao" and a wave. I just find it amusing because it's a true sort of stereotype.
Here's the plan for the next few days: tomorrow, we are going to Christian Rome, including the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel, as well as several churches. On Wednesday, we move to Florence to our apartment and begin orientation. I can't wait to finally settle in; I suck at living out of a suitcase, especially since everything inside was extremely shaken up from the flight here.
I don't think that I have talked at all about food. Mari will be disappointed with me because she wants a food blog! Yesterday, our program instructors took us out for some traditional cuisine with all four courses. I was absolutely stuffed by the end of it! We had a variety of appetizers that were different, but delicious, and the main course was pasta, but it wasn't just noodles or anything. The pasta was these little balls of dough filled with potato. Tasty! (I know that I said four parts, but the parts that I am excluding are because I didn't eat them due to my vegetarianism!) For dessert, we had tiramisu that was so rich that it melted in my mouth. I really wanted a glass of milk after that though.
Instead of milk, Paige and I went out to toast our first night in Italy. We each had a glass of white wine, which was very good, much sweeter than I expected. Tonight, with dinner, I had a red wine, but it wasn't as good; it tasted very strongly of alcohol, almost like a vodka--it burned going down. I ate it with pizza which was delicious but huge; I could barely finish half of it. When we ordered, I think that we expected "pizza" to be like one slice, not an entire pizza. Afterwards, we went out for gelato. I got peach this time. Yesterday, I had a strawberry one. I am in love with all things fruity, which really makes me crave juice. I will probably drink a million glasses of the "blood red" orange-juice that they serve at breakfast at the hotel!
So, am I missing home? Only a little. I think that I miss the familiarity of knowing the people that I am around all day. I kind of stick to hanging out with my roommate here because I know her the best, and we have a lot in common. Hopefully, I will get to know some of the other girls (I say girls because there are only five guys in the program) better in the coming days. I'm just not too enthusiastic about it because thus far, I'm having a difficult time relating to many of them. It's just strange because I guess I expected most of the students to be on their first big adventure, penny-pinching, and excited. A lot of the other students have the "been-there, done-that" attitude or act like they've seen/done better. It's pretty discouraging, so I just try to keep my distance. I think that's my problem. I don't like big groups. I like groups of 3, maybe 4 people. Anymore than that? No, grazie.
Ha! That reminds me. Vendors and waiters and what-not will often ask questions, and my automatic response is often, "No, grazie." Then, however, they think that I'm Italian just because I said one word, so they start rambling on and on in Italian! I usually just shake my hand and walk away or say that I speak English. I find this amusing though, but I don't blame them since there are many walks of life that live and speak Italian. I can't pick one out when we're walking down the street!
Well, I'm waiting for pictures to upload onto Facebook, and I think that I've shared enough about Rome. I am very excited to continue in Italy, even if my body is exhausted from the heat and the tons of walking. It's worth it all. Every drop of sweat, every dollar spent, every glass of strong wine!
Blessings.
Roma!
Today is my second full-day in Roma! Using this keyboard is an experience of its own! There are many foreign keys for symbols and accented letters and what not. I find strange accents coming out in my mind as I write this. I can hear people speaking Italian around me all day long, and it is beautiful. Everything is beautiful.
Living in a foreign country is definitely the best way to learn a language. I came here knowing zero Italian words. Now, when we walk into the hotel, we ask for our hotel room key, "Cento diechi, per favore." We also had a wonderful time ordering gelato in Italian, even though I am still not sure as to what the flavor was. Nevertheless, it was called "Albicacco." My guess is "apricot."
Anyways, the flight here was very, very long, especially after many delays in the airport, but somehow we made it on time. My flight to Philadelphia ended up being delayed by an hour which left not much time to catch my flight to Rome. A few other students on the same flight rushed with me to our gate, and we made it just in time to board, even though we then had to sit on the plane for an extra 45 minutes as they fixed something or the other. Alas, after nearly 10 hours of flying, I am in Rome, and it is real, and I am still in shock.
Our hotel is a beautiful, 4-star place. The room is very small, but the ceiling is high. Out of our enormous window is a quaint view of the street (I am finding myself describing most things as "quaint" and "beautiful").
We have had a lot of free time so far, but we have also done LOTS of sight-seeing. However, I am at a local Internet Point right now, and it cost me 2,6 Euro to be online for 15 minutes! I have one minute left because I went on Facebook first! Oops! I will definitely be on again soon for a further update!
Blessings.
Living in a foreign country is definitely the best way to learn a language. I came here knowing zero Italian words. Now, when we walk into the hotel, we ask for our hotel room key, "Cento diechi, per favore." We also had a wonderful time ordering gelato in Italian, even though I am still not sure as to what the flavor was. Nevertheless, it was called "Albicacco." My guess is "apricot."
Anyways, the flight here was very, very long, especially after many delays in the airport, but somehow we made it on time. My flight to Philadelphia ended up being delayed by an hour which left not much time to catch my flight to Rome. A few other students on the same flight rushed with me to our gate, and we made it just in time to board, even though we then had to sit on the plane for an extra 45 minutes as they fixed something or the other. Alas, after nearly 10 hours of flying, I am in Rome, and it is real, and I am still in shock.
Our hotel is a beautiful, 4-star place. The room is very small, but the ceiling is high. Out of our enormous window is a quaint view of the street (I am finding myself describing most things as "quaint" and "beautiful").
We have had a lot of free time so far, but we have also done LOTS of sight-seeing. However, I am at a local Internet Point right now, and it cost me 2,6 Euro to be online for 15 minutes! I have one minute left because I went on Facebook first! Oops! I will definitely be on again soon for a further update!
Blessings.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Destination: Rome
I woke up this morning (Wait, I went to sleep last night?!) and realized that my next awakening would be in a hotel room in Rome, half a world away. This idea baffles me. Not the hotel or anything like that: half a world away. Sometimes, it feels like there is no land beyond the shores of my homeland. I think it's just that I've never been challenged enough to think globally before. I mean, sure, I took geography and learned the capitols of countries that I will never remember exist, but I mean truly globally--the realization that other countries truly exist; they are solid, and I can touch them.
On the car ride to the airport, I sat in the backseat with my sister. "You're going to ITALY!!" she said to me with her face stretched in an excited smile. I couldn't contain mine and let out a long squeal like the pig in the Geico commercial. Sometimes I wonder when I will act like an adult. Then I walked through security, and waved goodbye to my family. I walked on, alone, and realized that I should probably get on that whole 'adult' idea pretty soon if I wanted to survive one day alone in a foreign country. 95% of the time when I have gotten on an airplane, I have landed in Arizona, where my heart belongs. It's strange to think that this time, I will be landing in a different sort of heat: a tanned, European sun that doesn't speak the English that I know.
When I think about travelling far away, I get really excited. Super-duper excited, as I've been saying when people ask. The past few days, I have been a busy-body trying to prepare my belongings and my mental self for the journey that is ahead. Despite my best attempts at overcoming some last-minute strep two days before my flight, I have arrived at the airport after saying "ciao" to everyone that I love. As I sit here looking around, there is no one at this gate who looks near as excited as I am. I can't rid my face of a smile, but everyone else just looks bored, disinterested. Sometimes I forget that I am very-much-so a small-town girl, and that people travel on 10hr. flights to foreign lands everyday. Where have I been?
The past few days, I have had to tell myself in my mind that I am not about to take my first (of, hopefully, many) once-in-a-lifetime journeys. It makes the time continue to pass at a reasonable rate. If I think about what I am doing and where I am going, the clock stops, and my clammy hands wringle knots of my fingers as my mind contemplates the scenarios that everyone has been warning me about. The funny thing is: first, my family and friends would say, "Oh! Italy! You are going to fall in love with an Italian boy and bring him back/come home with him/ never come home!"; then, "You better be careful, and don't trust everyone, and don't walk on streets alone, and don't talk to boys, and always stay with a group!!"; and finally, "You are going to have a such a nice time! It's going to be great!" Can I opt for cautious fun? I'll take the first and last and work on a few things in the middle, please. No, no, that completes my order. (:
Just keep breathing, and don't think too much because then you worry too much. (That's not just a note-to-self; it goes for you too, Mom!)
The countdown is over. Thank God!!
Blessings.
On the car ride to the airport, I sat in the backseat with my sister. "You're going to ITALY!!" she said to me with her face stretched in an excited smile. I couldn't contain mine and let out a long squeal like the pig in the Geico commercial. Sometimes I wonder when I will act like an adult. Then I walked through security, and waved goodbye to my family. I walked on, alone, and realized that I should probably get on that whole 'adult' idea pretty soon if I wanted to survive one day alone in a foreign country. 95% of the time when I have gotten on an airplane, I have landed in Arizona, where my heart belongs. It's strange to think that this time, I will be landing in a different sort of heat: a tanned, European sun that doesn't speak the English that I know.
When I think about travelling far away, I get really excited. Super-duper excited, as I've been saying when people ask. The past few days, I have been a busy-body trying to prepare my belongings and my mental self for the journey that is ahead. Despite my best attempts at overcoming some last-minute strep two days before my flight, I have arrived at the airport after saying "ciao" to everyone that I love. As I sit here looking around, there is no one at this gate who looks near as excited as I am. I can't rid my face of a smile, but everyone else just looks bored, disinterested. Sometimes I forget that I am very-much-so a small-town girl, and that people travel on 10hr. flights to foreign lands everyday. Where have I been?
The past few days, I have had to tell myself in my mind that I am not about to take my first (of, hopefully, many) once-in-a-lifetime journeys. It makes the time continue to pass at a reasonable rate. If I think about what I am doing and where I am going, the clock stops, and my clammy hands wringle knots of my fingers as my mind contemplates the scenarios that everyone has been warning me about. The funny thing is: first, my family and friends would say, "Oh! Italy! You are going to fall in love with an Italian boy and bring him back/come home with him/ never come home!"; then, "You better be careful, and don't trust everyone, and don't walk on streets alone, and don't talk to boys, and always stay with a group!!"; and finally, "You are going to have a such a nice time! It's going to be great!" Can I opt for cautious fun? I'll take the first and last and work on a few things in the middle, please. No, no, that completes my order. (:
Just keep breathing, and don't think too much because then you worry too much. (That's not just a note-to-self; it goes for you too, Mom!)
The countdown is over. Thank God!!
Blessings.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Counting down the days
So since I've come home from college, I have been too busy working two full-time jobs, trying to save up for my trip, that I have sort of completely forgotten that this blog even exists! I guess that's okay though because I don't even have any followers! Yay for selfish writing! Anyways, Italy is so close that I can't even watch an Olive Garden commercial without getting excited. The thought of sitting on a plane for nine hours, however, makes my stomach churn into knots of some combination of excitement and nerves of a varied sort.
Like I said, I've been working as much as possible to save up money for Italy. Nevertheless, it feels as though no matter how much I make, it will never be enough. My budget always looks to low because I look at it, and it is in U.S. dollars. Then, I think about the exchange rate and how it totally gyps me of my hard-earned cash, and I just get so frustrated that I lose nearly an extra forty cents of every dollar. Get this: I went to the bank for Euros to take with me before I leave, and after $30 in fees to get it wired to the bank, and after the awful exchange rate, I paid $230 for 135 euros!! It makes my stomach ill to think about it. Yes, I am a penny-pincher.
My program in Italy has sent all of the final paperwork, and I pretty much have all of those details figured out. I'm glad that I have had so much time to plan this trip and work out the small details because it really has taken a while to get each little thing sorted out. Always, always do things little by little. I've learned that recently because I have a tendency of taking on too much, but I'm learning that if I just take tiny steps, it may take me longer to get there, but by the time that I am running, my stride is without error. Hopefully.
Anyways, what I was getting at with the paperwork is that there is a ton of it! I had to make copies of everything for myself and for my parents and my school. Most of it is just precautionary which makes me nervous like the people leading this stuff expect something bad to happen. So, just in case, I have a one-inch binder bloated with paperwork that I've collected over the past nine or so months in planning this.
The thought of leaving home both excites me and scares me. I am already exhausted from everything that it takes to get through each day of work (how will I ever survive in the working world after college?!), and I am beyond ready to get away from home for a bit. However, sometimes it hits me just how far I will be going. I've never been away from home for so long or so far away or in a place where I can't even effectively communicate in a language that I am comfortable in. What have I gotten myself into?
Everytime that my mind starts to brew on all of the warnings that my friends and family have been giving me over the past month mostly, as my trip comes closer, I simply remind myself about all of the romanticized aspects of Italy that I will, naturally, love such as the beaches, the food, the scenic views (which my new camera lens will drool over!), the sexy men, the fresh markets, the local cafes, the beautiful language (even if I have no idea what they are saying), and the aspect that time will go quicker than I will it even though the rate has never changed.
When I tell people that I will be spending a month in Italy, they tell me that I will come back a different person, that I will be changed. I'm having a hard time believing them since I seem to shift personalities from the "school me" to the "home me," so maybe the "Italy me" will only stay in Italy even after I have left. But enough of that! I haven't even gotten there yet! Right now, I'm just praying that nothing falls through, and that it will be a safe trip, and that I will have the time of my life while I am there, regardless of what happens when I return.
Blessings.
Like I said, I've been working as much as possible to save up money for Italy. Nevertheless, it feels as though no matter how much I make, it will never be enough. My budget always looks to low because I look at it, and it is in U.S. dollars. Then, I think about the exchange rate and how it totally gyps me of my hard-earned cash, and I just get so frustrated that I lose nearly an extra forty cents of every dollar. Get this: I went to the bank for Euros to take with me before I leave, and after $30 in fees to get it wired to the bank, and after the awful exchange rate, I paid $230 for 135 euros!! It makes my stomach ill to think about it. Yes, I am a penny-pincher.
My program in Italy has sent all of the final paperwork, and I pretty much have all of those details figured out. I'm glad that I have had so much time to plan this trip and work out the small details because it really has taken a while to get each little thing sorted out. Always, always do things little by little. I've learned that recently because I have a tendency of taking on too much, but I'm learning that if I just take tiny steps, it may take me longer to get there, but by the time that I am running, my stride is without error. Hopefully.
Anyways, what I was getting at with the paperwork is that there is a ton of it! I had to make copies of everything for myself and for my parents and my school. Most of it is just precautionary which makes me nervous like the people leading this stuff expect something bad to happen. So, just in case, I have a one-inch binder bloated with paperwork that I've collected over the past nine or so months in planning this.
The thought of leaving home both excites me and scares me. I am already exhausted from everything that it takes to get through each day of work (how will I ever survive in the working world after college?!), and I am beyond ready to get away from home for a bit. However, sometimes it hits me just how far I will be going. I've never been away from home for so long or so far away or in a place where I can't even effectively communicate in a language that I am comfortable in. What have I gotten myself into?
Everytime that my mind starts to brew on all of the warnings that my friends and family have been giving me over the past month mostly, as my trip comes closer, I simply remind myself about all of the romanticized aspects of Italy that I will, naturally, love such as the beaches, the food, the scenic views (which my new camera lens will drool over!), the sexy men, the fresh markets, the local cafes, the beautiful language (even if I have no idea what they are saying), and the aspect that time will go quicker than I will it even though the rate has never changed.
When I tell people that I will be spending a month in Italy, they tell me that I will come back a different person, that I will be changed. I'm having a hard time believing them since I seem to shift personalities from the "school me" to the "home me," so maybe the "Italy me" will only stay in Italy even after I have left. But enough of that! I haven't even gotten there yet! Right now, I'm just praying that nothing falls through, and that it will be a safe trip, and that I will have the time of my life while I am there, regardless of what happens when I return.
Blessings.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Details Piling Up: 55 days
I spent a lot of time today doing busy-work sorts of preparations for Italy. I'm not sure if I chose today to avoid studying for finals (yikes!) or to honestly continue my preparations. Nevertheless, I confirmed by tour in Venice, ordered my International cell phone and SIM card, made more lists of things to do and pack and what not; it's been busy! The hardest part of all of this is trying to keep track of money. I've never dealt with so much before in my life (minus college because that's all loans, so I never actually see any of it!). The sad part is that I never actually have any. I earn it, and it's gone. I guess that's a pattern that I'll have to get used to with growing up.
The more that days pass and the closer that Italy gets, the more I think about it and the more that it really feels like it is becoming a reality. My nerves gobble up my excitement. I've been using Italy planning as a distraction from things that need done (i.e. schoolwork), but soon, that will be over, and I'll be using work-work to distract myself from the impending doom of Italy! Wow, that sounds awful. I am excited, I swear; it's just that my nerves are getting the best of me. At the same time, I feel my stomach churn each time that I think about the wonders that I have yet to discover and see. I used to think that I had been developed into a well-cultured young woman through my education and books. I'm learning very quickly that there is a whole big world out there beyond the pages of the books that I have read. By no means am I discrediting books. I love them, and I promise, one day I will write them. It's just a pre-departure culture shock that I'm trying to deal with I suppose!
At the retreat (which I never blogged about; whoops! Those pictures are worth thousands of words, right?), we received a book called The Art of Crossing Cultures. I intend on reading it before I leave. I also have to read this packet/booklet that my program sent me about some basics on Italy, general things to know, all that. I just realized how silly I am! I just got done talking about how I am very poorly cultured because I've read much but have not done much, yet in preparation to do much, I must read more! What a beautiful thought! There truly is such a thing as getting the best of it all.
I'm not sure what will be left to discuss before I leave except for when I start packing and when things come in the mail (like my 10-22mm lens that I am hoping to purchase!). I'll try to keep you updated as much as possible. Hopefully my nerves will subside, and I will remember to take baby Aspirin for a week before leaving as my sister recommends so that I don't get blood clots and Pulmonary Embolisms and all of those other joys and fears of travelling!
Blessings.
The more that days pass and the closer that Italy gets, the more I think about it and the more that it really feels like it is becoming a reality. My nerves gobble up my excitement. I've been using Italy planning as a distraction from things that need done (i.e. schoolwork), but soon, that will be over, and I'll be using work-work to distract myself from the impending doom of Italy! Wow, that sounds awful. I am excited, I swear; it's just that my nerves are getting the best of me. At the same time, I feel my stomach churn each time that I think about the wonders that I have yet to discover and see. I used to think that I had been developed into a well-cultured young woman through my education and books. I'm learning very quickly that there is a whole big world out there beyond the pages of the books that I have read. By no means am I discrediting books. I love them, and I promise, one day I will write them. It's just a pre-departure culture shock that I'm trying to deal with I suppose!
At the retreat (which I never blogged about; whoops! Those pictures are worth thousands of words, right?), we received a book called The Art of Crossing Cultures. I intend on reading it before I leave. I also have to read this packet/booklet that my program sent me about some basics on Italy, general things to know, all that. I just realized how silly I am! I just got done talking about how I am very poorly cultured because I've read much but have not done much, yet in preparation to do much, I must read more! What a beautiful thought! There truly is such a thing as getting the best of it all.
I'm not sure what will be left to discuss before I leave except for when I start packing and when things come in the mail (like my 10-22mm lens that I am hoping to purchase!). I'll try to keep you updated as much as possible. Hopefully my nerves will subside, and I will remember to take baby Aspirin for a week before leaving as my sister recommends so that I don't get blood clots and Pulmonary Embolisms and all of those other joys and fears of travelling!
Blessings.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Retreat Photos!
Retreat Photos! Detailed blog to come! (I apologize in advance for how lazy I get with a point-&-shoot camera!)
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Preparing for the Retreat
Recently, things have been really hectic between planning and classes and everything! I have purchased and received my train ticket and my ticket for a Venice tour! I'm also in the middle of a bunch of paper work through the school about studying abroad and getting all of my classes to transfer. Sometimes I think that the paperwork will never end!
Tomorrow, I leave for the retreat for the Vira I. Heinz scholarship. I'm really excited because, from what I've heard, it's going to be a lot of fun. I am really hoping to meet someone else who will be traveling to Italy this summer. My mom is probably hoping that more than I am though because she keeps encouraging me to try to find someone else. She really fears sending me off on my own.
I'll be gone all weekend, but I will certainly update when I can! I'm so excited that my blog can start shifting into something actually happening instead of always paperwork, planning, blah blah blah!
Blessings.
Tomorrow, I leave for the retreat for the Vira I. Heinz scholarship. I'm really excited because, from what I've heard, it's going to be a lot of fun. I am really hoping to meet someone else who will be traveling to Italy this summer. My mom is probably hoping that more than I am though because she keeps encouraging me to try to find someone else. She really fears sending me off on my own.
I'll be gone all weekend, but I will certainly update when I can! I'm so excited that my blog can start shifting into something actually happening instead of always paperwork, planning, blah blah blah!
Blessings.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
A Quick Update
Last weekend, I finally booked my hotels in Pisa & Venice! I'm really excited, but it makes me nervous because they're non-refundable, so hopefully it all works out that I won't even have to worry about that.
My tuition is more that half-way paid for my school there! As time keeps pushing forward, slowly but surely, the pieces are falling together. This just might be a successful trip!
Blessings.
My tuition is more that half-way paid for my school there! As time keeps pushing forward, slowly but surely, the pieces are falling together. This just might be a successful trip!
Blessings.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Paperwork & more paperwork...
Yesterday, I decided that I better start working on more planning for Italy. Since I am going through a scholarship, there are several things that I need to do to keep up with meeting the requirements. Also, the program that I am participating with requires a ton of paperwork!
I downloaded my "homework" assignments that need to be completed before the first retreat in March. They don't seem to complicated. For the first one, I have to interview an international student at my university. I asked my friend Juan if he would mind letting me interview him, and he was okay with it, so that should be an easy assignment. The other assignment is simply a survey. Who knows that the survey will entail, but the instructions said that it should only take about 15 minutes, so hopefully, it won't be too bad.
I'm really happy that most of my paperwork is done. I have one more form to have signed, but for some reason, I have to take it to a notary, so that's a pain in the butt, but I have to get it done eventually. Otherwise, I made a ton of progress this weekend. I still have to fill out my scholarship application through the program and write two essays for it, but I have time for that yet. Not only did I finish the rest of my other paperwork, but I also started dealing with some billing stuff! Now that this show is getting on the road, it is feeling more and more real.
I have to say that probably the most stressful part about all of this planning has to be paying for it. My scholarship doesn't cover nearly enough, but it helps a lot. Otherwise, the rest is on my shoulders. I'm still waiting to get paid from work over Winter Break, so it's really stressful waiting when there's nothing that I can do. I'm trying to just trust that it will all work out; I've been working hard for this, so I hope that God's got something great in store for me!
It's slowly getting closer!
Blessings.
I downloaded my "homework" assignments that need to be completed before the first retreat in March. They don't seem to complicated. For the first one, I have to interview an international student at my university. I asked my friend Juan if he would mind letting me interview him, and he was okay with it, so that should be an easy assignment. The other assignment is simply a survey. Who knows that the survey will entail, but the instructions said that it should only take about 15 minutes, so hopefully, it won't be too bad.
I'm really happy that most of my paperwork is done. I have one more form to have signed, but for some reason, I have to take it to a notary, so that's a pain in the butt, but I have to get it done eventually. Otherwise, I made a ton of progress this weekend. I still have to fill out my scholarship application through the program and write two essays for it, but I have time for that yet. Not only did I finish the rest of my other paperwork, but I also started dealing with some billing stuff! Now that this show is getting on the road, it is feeling more and more real.
I have to say that probably the most stressful part about all of this planning has to be paying for it. My scholarship doesn't cover nearly enough, but it helps a lot. Otherwise, the rest is on my shoulders. I'm still waiting to get paid from work over Winter Break, so it's really stressful waiting when there's nothing that I can do. I'm trying to just trust that it will all work out; I've been working hard for this, so I hope that God's got something great in store for me!
It's slowly getting closer!
Blessings.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Flight=Set; There's no turning back.
Well, now that I have known about this trip for about two months, it has come time to start booking everything. A part of me was really nervous about starting to book flights, hotels & train passes because most of this is non-refundable. This scares me. Even though traveling is my dream, I don't have much experience yet--what if something comes up and dates change or times switch? It's been difficult coming up with the cash to make it this far, so I definitely can't just take an unexpected changes in stride. This is my first time leaving the country, and to top it off, I'll be making my friends along the way instead of taking them with me.
Luckily, thanks to the Vira I. Heinz Scholarship, this trip has become much more affordable. I would have never even dreamed of attempting to achieve this dream if it weren't for the scholarship. I feel so blessed and am more excited than ever to be planning this trip!
After being accepted into the program a few weeks ago, I had to wait until after the first of the year to begin filling out paperwork and planning payments for my classes and all that. The other day, I got my course schedule. I was relieved to find that I was accepted into both of the classes that I was hoping to take: Ceramics & Italian Language for Beginners. My excitement is indescribable, but I will try...
When I was a little kid, I had this book where I kept track of everything in grade school. It had this cheesy little format for things like "Who was your best friend?" "How tall were you?" "What did you want to be when you grow up?" Every year since first grade, I listed a range of vocations that I dreamed of taking up when I "grew up." These jobs varied from scientist to teacher to artist...and poet. I'd long since forgot about this book until a few weeks ago during a weekend when I was home from college. When I saw "poet" listed under every single year, I laughed to myself and confirmed that I'm in the right major. Sucking in that feeling of complacency in the extraordinary--that feeling of knowing that I'm where I am supposed to be--is the greatest feeling in the world.
Aside from finishing up my paperwork for my trip, I'm really looking forward to the Scholarship retreat in Pittsburgh at the end of March! I have the highest expectations for this upcoming year, and I pray that they will be fulfilled.
Luckily, thanks to the Vira I. Heinz Scholarship, this trip has become much more affordable. I would have never even dreamed of attempting to achieve this dream if it weren't for the scholarship. I feel so blessed and am more excited than ever to be planning this trip!
After being accepted into the program a few weeks ago, I had to wait until after the first of the year to begin filling out paperwork and planning payments for my classes and all that. The other day, I got my course schedule. I was relieved to find that I was accepted into both of the classes that I was hoping to take: Ceramics & Italian Language for Beginners. My excitement is indescribable, but I will try...
When I was a little kid, I had this book where I kept track of everything in grade school. It had this cheesy little format for things like "Who was your best friend?" "How tall were you?" "What did you want to be when you grow up?" Every year since first grade, I listed a range of vocations that I dreamed of taking up when I "grew up." These jobs varied from scientist to teacher to artist...and poet. I'd long since forgot about this book until a few weeks ago during a weekend when I was home from college. When I saw "poet" listed under every single year, I laughed to myself and confirmed that I'm in the right major. Sucking in that feeling of complacency in the extraordinary--that feeling of knowing that I'm where I am supposed to be--is the greatest feeling in the world.
Aside from finishing up my paperwork for my trip, I'm really looking forward to the Scholarship retreat in Pittsburgh at the end of March! I have the highest expectations for this upcoming year, and I pray that they will be fulfilled.
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