Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Eventi Recenti
The benefit (for you) of my being in a Romance language-speaking country is that all of my blog titles, while retaining the semblance of foreignness, are still perfectly comprehensible to my non-multicultural readers. Yaaayy, cognates. Good thing I'm not studying in Russia. I would probably be dead of hypothermia already. Instead, I am in Torino, alive and well, a city where spring has almost sprung. I feel it in the air, guys. A couple days ago, I was practically sunning myself on the bus, so despite the fact that yesterday was brutally windy, I'm going to focus on Friday's warmth instead and cross my fingers for even better days ahead. In the past week and a half, I have done many fun and exciting things. I cleaned. I bought lotion, but not ziploc bags (seriously, Italy?). I even brushed my hair, putting this week's hair-brushing tally at one. Wouldn't it be nice if this were where this week's adventures ended? But, alas, this is not the case. Far be it from me to impose upon those who read this blog, but I feel that a lengthy post is exactly what's in order today (every day).
Let us begin with last weekend. As may have been previously mentioned, my roommates Caitlin and Becky went out of town for the weekend, leaving me and Micki (and Katherine) to our own devices. This mostly entailed significant lounging, punctuated by occasional eating. In case any doubts persisted, these are absolutely my two greatest skills (napping is my third). As such, I was in my element, and had a quiet Friday night. Saturday was a very productive day, since I both went to the gym and went shopping for a dinner party (ish) that we were to host that night. Micki and Katherine, having made Italian friends last semester, invited some of them over for dinner at our house so that we could practice cooking the meals M&K had just learned in their cuisine class (I'm not in it, but I still reap the benefits for the most part). We told them to come over at 8:30 or 9, assuming dinner would be fully ready within half an hour of their arrival. Half an hour turned into 45 minutes, which turned into an hour.... Basically, we sat down to dinner at 11 p.m. (I am quite sure that this is because we are so well-adapted to the European lifestyle, and not because I "cooked" the pasta sauce for half an hour before realizing that I had forgotten to turn on the burner-- these are just things that happen when you are a virtuoso chef, you are so busy composing brilliant recipes that you can't be bothered with the tedium of such pedestrian activities as stove-lighting). The menu for the night was gnocchi with fontina cheese, pasta with sausage and homemade sauce, salad with chicken, garlic bread, and a chocolate biscuit/pie thing for dessert. Also, wine. We tried quite hard, and results were mostly successful, I think. Although one of the Italians, whose English is minimal, communicated his thoughts to other Italian in their native tongue: "Un po' salato. Troppo alio." After I made it known that I understood he thought the food a bit salty and too garlicky (he was right about that, there was garlic EVERYWHERE, like I'm surprised we didn't use every garlic clove in Torino), there ensued a lively debate over whether or not the food was nevertheless very tasty (IT WAS). Overall, it was a very good night. Also, I'm glad I'm getting to practice my Italian somewhere other than the grocery store.... I'm learning lots of slang as a result, like "sborrare." Maybe Google can translate it for you, because I'm not going to. I don't actually know if it's a dirty word or just a slangy term, but in any event, it's another Italian word that I know, so SCORE.
The next day was almost entirely devoted to doing the dishes from the night before, which was speedily accomplished by probably 5 p.m. Pretty sure that one event of the day was bookended by further lounging. Er, and I watched The Lovely Bones. Having recently reread the novel, I found the movie subpar at best. Sorry, Peter Jackson. (Also, why was Mark Wahlberg playing the dad instead of Mark Ruffalo or maybe uh anyone else?) The next day, Monday, Caitlin and Becky returned. Almost immediately upon arriving home, Becky got quite sick and by the end of the night ended up in the hospital, where she spent the night, with some sort of stomach flu, as it turned out. She's better now, and luckily Daniele was on hand to help get her to the hospital and communicate with doctors, etc. Then, Tuesday was the ORANGE-THROWING BATTLE. I don't know why I insist on capitalizing the phrase every time i type it, but I think in my mind block letters portend greatness, which pretty adequately describes Ivrea. [This is where I'm going to insert the link to my next article when it prints on Tuesday, since it is 700 words of complete thoughts on Ivrea and was far too much effort (I mean, far too sacred) to devote more time to restating everything again. So uh, come back to this paragraph on Tuesday for aforementioned link. Or I'll make it a separate post, who knows, I am so spontaneous.]
Wednesday! Back to school after a strenuous and intellectually charged five-day weekend. Had my first midterm, in International Affairs! I spent the night before actually reading assigned pages for once, and learned quite a bit about the Cold War (although apparently not enough to know that Stalin's condition for reunifying Germany post-WWII was that it be neutral, and not, as I put on my exam, that it become communist...). Also spent the next morning studying, and as a result, I feel reasonably confident about how I did, although having made a bet with a friend that I would get a higher grade, I am rather hoping that I actually got an A (also, I will absolutely die if I don't get an A in this class). After that, I bummed around school for about a million hours until my last Composition I class :( This was a depressing day, since I found out that it would be my last time being taught by the Comp I professor, who I quite liked, as we're getting a new professor for Comp II. Anyway, I didn't have to take the final since I'm taking the class pass/fail, and now I don't have Italian again until March 3. Then on Thursday, I only had one class... Then it was the weekend again. I know, my life is SO HARD.
I must now take a short interlude to recount my non-shopping non-adventures. On Tuesday, I ran out of sensible food to eat. On Wednesday, I didn't get out of class until after the grocery store closed. On Thursday, I am a bum and don't do anything with my life. On Friday, ...I can't even remember Friday as having existed. It took me until Saturday evening to go shopping, meaning I subsisted for almost a week on stale sandwiches and a bit of sausage that I desperately bought on Thursday. This probably makes me a champ, if we think about it. It also makes me a super saver. However, I overcompensated when I finally did go shopping, and now I have quite an abundance of food, most of which will probably go off before I get a chance to eat it, since Italians are fundamentally opposed to preservatives (which, despite the inconvenience, I'm basically cool with, since I don't like being a chemical-addled mutant).
Okay, back to Thursday night, went out again, this time to a place called Big, which I think mostly refers to the giant space left in your wallet after you go and spend all your money there. It was pretty good fun, although one of the girls broke her heel (which, by the way, I've never seen happen in real life before) and had to walk around the gross/wet club floor in just her tights, saaaad day. But we got driven home again, thank God. Friday, as noted, is nonexistent in my mind. Guess I didn't do anything? OHH. I went and worked at my internship! See, being studious and industrious comes so naturally to me that I don't even remember having done it, even when I found a new bus route that drops me off directly in front of the building, which is basically miraculous and makes me much more inclined to go in and work. So I guess that's what I did. Still didn't do anything noteworthy at night...maybe..who knows anymore.
And then Saturday! Began the day by going to the open market with Allison, which from what I've heard is the largest one in Europe (good job, Torino). I suppose the big news that I am most excited about in this entire post is that I GOT BOOTS! They are shoes. That fit me. And are also black and vaguely leathery. They cost 10 euros. Mostly wooooooo sums up how I feel about this. I also bought a dress, a belt, grapes and potatoes. I am a woman of the world. Following this, came back home with Allison to struggle (and ultimately fail) to make travel plans. Pretty sure I'm one of the only USAC people who hasn't already left the country, don't really know why. I'm not really mad about it, though, because I've already been to a lot of the places that people are going. It's a little rough because I'm trying to only go to places I've never been before, but people are less inclined to go to weirder places before they hit up the big ones, which leaves me in a bit of a pickle. I really wish I could travel alone safely, but I fear this is not possible, unfortunately. Anyway, I'll figure it out. After that, went to the gym again and then went grocery shopping, which uneventful except for the fact that the lines were SO SO SO long, since it was Saturday night and grocery stores aren't open on Sunday, so the lines were doubly long to make up for this abomination. Also, a man asked to cut in front of us even though he had even more stuff than we did, just because he didn't feel like waiting in line. No, man. Came back and got ready to go over to some girls' apartment, where the Italians from last weekend were making us dinner so as to return the favor. Drank some wine (too much wine) and ate red wine risotto, homemade lasagna, tomato/mozzarella/basil, and American cookies! All was very tasty (too tasty?) and I ate more than I perhaps should have. Saturday turned out to be a rather excessive night, but good fun nevertheless. Got a bit sick at the end of the night, but by some miracle was fine when I woke up. Woke up today, cleaned the entire apartment for the first time since arriving, was cleaning for quite a long time actually...it pains me to think about it. But I am no longer living in filth. Was unfortunately overzealous in doing laundry and washed my bedspread...no dryer...bedspread still wet. About to go to sleep on a fitted sheet and nothing else. Also, obviously getting tired since I seem to be writing in sentence fragments. Cool. Skyped with Mum before she and Tom left to Mexico for the week (I am so damn jealous of my brother, who gets the entire house + car to himself for the next eight days. WHY did this never happen for me when I was a senior in high school). Bummed around the rest of the day/night. So, I guess that's about it. This post is molto speciale (more fancy Italian, I know), photos are included! Can't even form an interesting ending. Good night to all, and also buona notte. xx
This is Ivrea, if you couldn't tell.
Let us begin with last weekend. As may have been previously mentioned, my roommates Caitlin and Becky went out of town for the weekend, leaving me and Micki (and Katherine) to our own devices. This mostly entailed significant lounging, punctuated by occasional eating. In case any doubts persisted, these are absolutely my two greatest skills (napping is my third). As such, I was in my element, and had a quiet Friday night. Saturday was a very productive day, since I both went to the gym and went shopping for a dinner party (ish) that we were to host that night. Micki and Katherine, having made Italian friends last semester, invited some of them over for dinner at our house so that we could practice cooking the meals M&K had just learned in their cuisine class (I'm not in it, but I still reap the benefits for the most part). We told them to come over at 8:30 or 9, assuming dinner would be fully ready within half an hour of their arrival. Half an hour turned into 45 minutes, which turned into an hour.... Basically, we sat down to dinner at 11 p.m. (I am quite sure that this is because we are so well-adapted to the European lifestyle, and not because I "cooked" the pasta sauce for half an hour before realizing that I had forgotten to turn on the burner-- these are just things that happen when you are a virtuoso chef, you are so busy composing brilliant recipes that you can't be bothered with the tedium of such pedestrian activities as stove-lighting). The menu for the night was gnocchi with fontina cheese, pasta with sausage and homemade sauce, salad with chicken, garlic bread, and a chocolate biscuit/pie thing for dessert. Also, wine. We tried quite hard, and results were mostly successful, I think. Although one of the Italians, whose English is minimal, communicated his thoughts to other Italian in their native tongue: "Un po' salato. Troppo alio." After I made it known that I understood he thought the food a bit salty and too garlicky (he was right about that, there was garlic EVERYWHERE, like I'm surprised we didn't use every garlic clove in Torino), there ensued a lively debate over whether or not the food was nevertheless very tasty (IT WAS). Overall, it was a very good night. Also, I'm glad I'm getting to practice my Italian somewhere other than the grocery store.... I'm learning lots of slang as a result, like "sborrare." Maybe Google can translate it for you, because I'm not going to. I don't actually know if it's a dirty word or just a slangy term, but in any event, it's another Italian word that I know, so SCORE.
The next day was almost entirely devoted to doing the dishes from the night before, which was speedily accomplished by probably 5 p.m. Pretty sure that one event of the day was bookended by further lounging. Er, and I watched The Lovely Bones. Having recently reread the novel, I found the movie subpar at best. Sorry, Peter Jackson. (Also, why was Mark Wahlberg playing the dad instead of Mark Ruffalo or maybe uh anyone else?) The next day, Monday, Caitlin and Becky returned. Almost immediately upon arriving home, Becky got quite sick and by the end of the night ended up in the hospital, where she spent the night, with some sort of stomach flu, as it turned out. She's better now, and luckily Daniele was on hand to help get her to the hospital and communicate with doctors, etc. Then, Tuesday was the ORANGE-THROWING BATTLE. I don't know why I insist on capitalizing the phrase every time i type it, but I think in my mind block letters portend greatness, which pretty adequately describes Ivrea. [This is where I'm going to insert the link to my next article when it prints on Tuesday, since it is 700 words of complete thoughts on Ivrea and was far too much effort (I mean, far too sacred) to devote more time to restating everything again. So uh, come back to this paragraph on Tuesday for aforementioned link. Or I'll make it a separate post, who knows, I am so spontaneous.]
Wednesday! Back to school after a strenuous and intellectually charged five-day weekend. Had my first midterm, in International Affairs! I spent the night before actually reading assigned pages for once, and learned quite a bit about the Cold War (although apparently not enough to know that Stalin's condition for reunifying Germany post-WWII was that it be neutral, and not, as I put on my exam, that it become communist...). Also spent the next morning studying, and as a result, I feel reasonably confident about how I did, although having made a bet with a friend that I would get a higher grade, I am rather hoping that I actually got an A (also, I will absolutely die if I don't get an A in this class). After that, I bummed around school for about a million hours until my last Composition I class :( This was a depressing day, since I found out that it would be my last time being taught by the Comp I professor, who I quite liked, as we're getting a new professor for Comp II. Anyway, I didn't have to take the final since I'm taking the class pass/fail, and now I don't have Italian again until March 3. Then on Thursday, I only had one class... Then it was the weekend again. I know, my life is SO HARD.
I must now take a short interlude to recount my non-shopping non-adventures. On Tuesday, I ran out of sensible food to eat. On Wednesday, I didn't get out of class until after the grocery store closed. On Thursday, I am a bum and don't do anything with my life. On Friday, ...I can't even remember Friday as having existed. It took me until Saturday evening to go shopping, meaning I subsisted for almost a week on stale sandwiches and a bit of sausage that I desperately bought on Thursday. This probably makes me a champ, if we think about it. It also makes me a super saver. However, I overcompensated when I finally did go shopping, and now I have quite an abundance of food, most of which will probably go off before I get a chance to eat it, since Italians are fundamentally opposed to preservatives (which, despite the inconvenience, I'm basically cool with, since I don't like being a chemical-addled mutant).
Okay, back to Thursday night, went out again, this time to a place called Big, which I think mostly refers to the giant space left in your wallet after you go and spend all your money there. It was pretty good fun, although one of the girls broke her heel (which, by the way, I've never seen happen in real life before) and had to walk around the gross/wet club floor in just her tights, saaaad day. But we got driven home again, thank God. Friday, as noted, is nonexistent in my mind. Guess I didn't do anything? OHH. I went and worked at my internship! See, being studious and industrious comes so naturally to me that I don't even remember having done it, even when I found a new bus route that drops me off directly in front of the building, which is basically miraculous and makes me much more inclined to go in and work. So I guess that's what I did. Still didn't do anything noteworthy at night...maybe..who knows anymore.
And then Saturday! Began the day by going to the open market with Allison, which from what I've heard is the largest one in Europe (good job, Torino). I suppose the big news that I am most excited about in this entire post is that I GOT BOOTS! They are shoes. That fit me. And are also black and vaguely leathery. They cost 10 euros. Mostly wooooooo sums up how I feel about this. I also bought a dress, a belt, grapes and potatoes. I am a woman of the world. Following this, came back home with Allison to struggle (and ultimately fail) to make travel plans. Pretty sure I'm one of the only USAC people who hasn't already left the country, don't really know why. I'm not really mad about it, though, because I've already been to a lot of the places that people are going. It's a little rough because I'm trying to only go to places I've never been before, but people are less inclined to go to weirder places before they hit up the big ones, which leaves me in a bit of a pickle. I really wish I could travel alone safely, but I fear this is not possible, unfortunately. Anyway, I'll figure it out. After that, went to the gym again and then went grocery shopping, which uneventful except for the fact that the lines were SO SO SO long, since it was Saturday night and grocery stores aren't open on Sunday, so the lines were doubly long to make up for this abomination. Also, a man asked to cut in front of us even though he had even more stuff than we did, just because he didn't feel like waiting in line. No, man. Came back and got ready to go over to some girls' apartment, where the Italians from last weekend were making us dinner so as to return the favor. Drank some wine (too much wine) and ate red wine risotto, homemade lasagna, tomato/mozzarella/basil, and American cookies! All was very tasty (too tasty?) and I ate more than I perhaps should have. Saturday turned out to be a rather excessive night, but good fun nevertheless. Got a bit sick at the end of the night, but by some miracle was fine when I woke up. Woke up today, cleaned the entire apartment for the first time since arriving, was cleaning for quite a long time actually...it pains me to think about it. But I am no longer living in filth. Was unfortunately overzealous in doing laundry and washed my bedspread...no dryer...bedspread still wet. About to go to sleep on a fitted sheet and nothing else. Also, obviously getting tired since I seem to be writing in sentence fragments. Cool. Skyped with Mum before she and Tom left to Mexico for the week (I am so damn jealous of my brother, who gets the entire house + car to himself for the next eight days. WHY did this never happen for me when I was a senior in high school). Bummed around the rest of the day/night. So, I guess that's about it. This post is molto speciale (more fancy Italian, I know), photos are included! Can't even form an interesting ending. Good night to all, and also buona notte. xx
This is Ivrea, if you couldn't tell.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Prima di Venezia
Every time I write a new blog post, I refer back to the last one to see where I left off. So, reading the one prior to Venice, I am mind-boggled. All the stuff I wrote seems as if it was so long ago, I can barely remember it. But, I have a responsibility to uphold, so I will try my best, as I sit here drinking my Italian juice (ACE, or orange-carrot-lemon, if you were wondering, it's only the best juice ever), to recall all that has transpired since January 29. OKAY.
Let's see, Jan 29 was a Friday, so hypothetically I would begin by talking about my weekend. Unfortunately, I have zero memory of that weekend. I can pretty safely guess that I either stayed in or went out, so I either had a very relaxing or a very busy weekend, so no worries either way. Then I had a pretty regular week of school. I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that I have only missed one class so far this whole semester, and that was only because I straight-up slept through it, which means it basically wasn't even my fault. Am I dedicated or what? So, yes, I spent the week attending every single one of my classes. None were particularly noteworthy, which I appreciate, since it means no tests or abundance of homework. This means that I had a reasonable amount of free time, which was swiftly sucked up. 1) I joined a gym. It is very close to my apartment. Almost too close, in fact. It is exactly the distance where it is just far enough to be annoying to walk to, but just close enough so that I look like a lazy bum if I take the bus. So far I've been walking there and taking the bus back, which I feel strikes a pleasant balance. Also, it's cold as balls here, and my workout pants are capris, meaning that snow is literally PELTING my legs when I walk to the gym, that is how dedicated and athletic I am. And so, if I choose to ride the bus back, that is just my prerogative and no reason to judge me, especially since it is only two stops away from my apartment, okay? 2) One of Micki's friends from Chico came to visit her during the week, but she was really busy, so the task of showing him around Torino fell to me, perhaps the worst possible man for the job since I know practically nothing about Torino. Actually, it was probably to my advantage that there was someone in town who actually wanted to go sightseeing, since it meant that I got to see the places too. We went to the Mole Antonelliana, the tallest building in Torino, which was built to be a synagogue but which is now a cinema museum. The views from the top were brilliant, since we went up at dusk, and the ride up in the elevator was pretty cool, probably the closest I've ever felt to vertiginous, since I was watching the museum get smaller and smaller, while the elevator, which is in the center of the building rather than against a wall, ascended into a small cupola where we were allowed to go outside and walk around for views of Torino. I saw a lot of churches and important-looking stuff that I didn't know existed, so I may have to investigate further and visit those things as well. The cinema museum was also really cool, there was lots of interactive stuff and recreated movie sets and on the whole it was one of the more interesting museums I've been to, as well as cheap to get into, though it was marred slightly by the fact that we were kicked out at 7:45 because the place was closing at 8 and that is just the way things work in Italy, so no, you must proceed directly to the exit and that's final. The employees spoke English, too, so we couldn't even stay a little longer by pretending that we couldn't understand them. Those were basically the only two things (one thing, really, since they are the same location) that I showed him, since he was only here a couple days and mostly that's all there is to see in Torino, I think. Nevertheless fun. 3) I had a meeting with one of my professors about getting an internship, and it was successful!!! I don't think it has an official title, but it's at the International Training Centre, a branch of the International Labor Organization, which is a branch of the UNITED NATIONS. My job is basically to research the origins of the ITC and its relevance to Torino, and then write a research paper to that effect. So it's not so much an internship as it is a Centre-endorsed research opportunity, unless the final results ends up being of any particular use to the Centre, then I think maybe it would count. And my professor said if it was any good that he was going to help me try and get it published, which would be brilliant! If nothing else, it'll be good practice for writing my thesis, which I have to get around to when I get back next semester to Reno, so that's good. So now I go in at my own discretion and use the resources in their library, etc. I still haven't decided the focus of the paper yet since I just got started, but it seems interesting so far. AND it's vaguely affiliated with the UN, which is beyond thrilling for me, since I am interested in diplomacy. AND I get 3 credits for it. All told, it's basically the best deal ever. 4) This is going to need its own paragraph because I have a lot to say about this.
4) MY GODFORSAKEN PERMIT OF STAY. Last Thursday, morning classes were canceled so that we could go to the questura, some sort of immigration police station, to complete the next step in receiving our permits of stay (i.e., we still don't have them yet). We all went as a USAC group, and since one of the program coordinators "knows a guy," we got fast-tracked to the front of the line. Now. I try not to complain about things that are annoying for me but quintessentially Italian, like the supermarket being closed at 8 p.m. on a weeknight, but I was PISSED at the questura. Having had to go to Rome once to get my visa renewed, I was fully prepared to wait a few hours in line to get my stuff done. A few, okay, fine. But we arrived at 9 a.m. to the station and I did not leave until 5 p.m. that evening. No breaks, no food or drinks, and we couldn't even venture outside since leaving would mean losing your place in line. Basically we had to get fingerprinted and handprinted and whatever else, and then they had to measure how tall we were. That's it. Doesn't really sound like an 8-hour job to me, but there you have it. So, yeah, the whole experience was definitely balls. But now I'm officially legally here in Italy. And I spent the time getting to know some of the people in USAC that I hadn't really gotten a chance to really talk to yet, so that was fun. We also met some other people who were studying abroad from China/Lebanon/Argentina, who just happened to be at the station at the same time as us. I guess that's about it. On the way home, I was so hungry/annoyed that I bought myself some arancini as a treat. That was good, too.
The next day, I met up with my international affairs professor, who I am definitely obsessed with, to take a tour of the ITC and get to know the facilities. The whole place seems pretty cool and the library was just redone so it's all pretty modern. The Centre is set up a bit like a college campus, in that they have dorms and it's essentially self-contained, and now that my name's on the list (fancy, I know), I'm free to come and go as I please. We also hung out for a bit and had breakfast at the Centre's cafe, so we got to chat for a while and that was cool. Friday night was quiet since we were all getting ready to go to VENICE for the weekend. [insert Venice blog here]
Post-Venice (that would be the past three days), I had a pretty easy school week, since I had each of my classes only once this week. Nevertheless, the week felt improbably busy, since it was full of other shenanigans that managed to keep me occupied. For example, I went to the gym. Once. Pretty taxing, I know. Also, I had to buy a light bulb. That one was actually reasonably taxing, since it required two grocery store trips (the first time, as previously mentioned, the store was closed) and then I had to climb a ladder to get to my bedroom light. I'm essentially a handyman now, available for hire. I also gave a presentation on Sicily for my Culture class, which mostly consisted of me showing pictures of the places I've been and the church my nonno painted (but I mean, whatever, I'm not the granddaughter of like a famous historically important artist or anything, right?). A couple of nights ago, since obviously with classes and an internship and writing for the paper and trying to be a skinny bitch I'm still not busy enough, I met with a woman who got a hold of me through USAC about a babysitting job. Basically she wants her sons to learn English, the theory being that having a babysitter who is inept at Italian will force them to become bilingual. Getting to her apartment was an adventure in itself, since it involved switching buses and other such intricacies. It might have been easier to get there had I not forgotten the lady's name, her apartment number AND my phone. I only knew which bus stop to get off at, so I literally walked to every apartment within a block's radius of the stop, reading all the names on the buzzers until I saw one that looked familiar. So I buzzed it, and was immediately accosted by an old Italian woman clearly not in need of a babysitter, so of course I ran away across the street, as if escaping the situation would make her judge me less (it didn't, I'm sure). The second familiar-seeming name did indeed turn out to be the right apartment, so I met her and her sons, Filippo and Giorgio. The little one was pretty cute, although he tried to draw on my coat, and the older one invited me to play hide and seek (I was mostly impressed that a five-year-old knew how to converse with me in English). Anyway, I'm not sure if I have the job yet, since it depends on whether or not my Italian class gets moved to evenings, in which case I will not have the job since she needs an evening babysitter. I'm pretty neutral about it, since I could use the money and I like kids, but I'm also pretty busy already and I think babysitting would take away from the internship, which would suck since I am trying to be my professor's most brilliant student (these are the words he uses, another sign that he is my professorial soul mate. we have a final paper in the class, and he says "the most brilliant paper" will get presented in front of the class. I WANT TO BE THE MOST BRILLIANT.) I guess these are the things that make my life seem busy. I only had one class on Wednesday, but I was inexplicably away from my apartment from 10:45 in the morning until 6:30 in the evening. I'd ask someone to explain that to me, but it's probably impossible.
Anyway, I guess that's about all for right now. Last night, we went out, which is always fun, especially when there are Italians to drive you so you don't have to walk. This weekend will probably be pretty quiet, since a lot of people are going out of town for the long weekend. I, on the other hand, am staying home, both to save money and to take advantage of an almost-empty apartment. One final thing, I am once again a published columnist! New and improved mugshot this time, thankfully. Click here to read the article. This one's about aperitivo, not sure if I like the article very much this time. It seems a little more newsy than I intended, with much less of the ramble-y charm that I feel makes up the core of my (negligible) appeal. But that's okay, because there are still many more to come! Okay, done for now. Will probably write again after Tuesday, which is when we are going to an ORANGE-THROWING BATTLE in Ivrea. Yes, I'm excited too. Arrivederci! xoxx
I have no more photos yet, but this is the ILO's logo, which practically makes it my logo! Considering immortalizing it in tattoo form on my body. Probably my bum.
Let's see, Jan 29 was a Friday, so hypothetically I would begin by talking about my weekend. Unfortunately, I have zero memory of that weekend. I can pretty safely guess that I either stayed in or went out, so I either had a very relaxing or a very busy weekend, so no worries either way. Then I had a pretty regular week of school. I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that I have only missed one class so far this whole semester, and that was only because I straight-up slept through it, which means it basically wasn't even my fault. Am I dedicated or what? So, yes, I spent the week attending every single one of my classes. None were particularly noteworthy, which I appreciate, since it means no tests or abundance of homework. This means that I had a reasonable amount of free time, which was swiftly sucked up. 1) I joined a gym. It is very close to my apartment. Almost too close, in fact. It is exactly the distance where it is just far enough to be annoying to walk to, but just close enough so that I look like a lazy bum if I take the bus. So far I've been walking there and taking the bus back, which I feel strikes a pleasant balance. Also, it's cold as balls here, and my workout pants are capris, meaning that snow is literally PELTING my legs when I walk to the gym, that is how dedicated and athletic I am. And so, if I choose to ride the bus back, that is just my prerogative and no reason to judge me, especially since it is only two stops away from my apartment, okay? 2) One of Micki's friends from Chico came to visit her during the week, but she was really busy, so the task of showing him around Torino fell to me, perhaps the worst possible man for the job since I know practically nothing about Torino. Actually, it was probably to my advantage that there was someone in town who actually wanted to go sightseeing, since it meant that I got to see the places too. We went to the Mole Antonelliana, the tallest building in Torino, which was built to be a synagogue but which is now a cinema museum. The views from the top were brilliant, since we went up at dusk, and the ride up in the elevator was pretty cool, probably the closest I've ever felt to vertiginous, since I was watching the museum get smaller and smaller, while the elevator, which is in the center of the building rather than against a wall, ascended into a small cupola where we were allowed to go outside and walk around for views of Torino. I saw a lot of churches and important-looking stuff that I didn't know existed, so I may have to investigate further and visit those things as well. The cinema museum was also really cool, there was lots of interactive stuff and recreated movie sets and on the whole it was one of the more interesting museums I've been to, as well as cheap to get into, though it was marred slightly by the fact that we were kicked out at 7:45 because the place was closing at 8 and that is just the way things work in Italy, so no, you must proceed directly to the exit and that's final. The employees spoke English, too, so we couldn't even stay a little longer by pretending that we couldn't understand them. Those were basically the only two things (one thing, really, since they are the same location) that I showed him, since he was only here a couple days and mostly that's all there is to see in Torino, I think. Nevertheless fun. 3) I had a meeting with one of my professors about getting an internship, and it was successful!!! I don't think it has an official title, but it's at the International Training Centre, a branch of the International Labor Organization, which is a branch of the UNITED NATIONS. My job is basically to research the origins of the ITC and its relevance to Torino, and then write a research paper to that effect. So it's not so much an internship as it is a Centre-endorsed research opportunity, unless the final results ends up being of any particular use to the Centre, then I think maybe it would count. And my professor said if it was any good that he was going to help me try and get it published, which would be brilliant! If nothing else, it'll be good practice for writing my thesis, which I have to get around to when I get back next semester to Reno, so that's good. So now I go in at my own discretion and use the resources in their library, etc. I still haven't decided the focus of the paper yet since I just got started, but it seems interesting so far. AND it's vaguely affiliated with the UN, which is beyond thrilling for me, since I am interested in diplomacy. AND I get 3 credits for it. All told, it's basically the best deal ever. 4) This is going to need its own paragraph because I have a lot to say about this.
4) MY GODFORSAKEN PERMIT OF STAY. Last Thursday, morning classes were canceled so that we could go to the questura, some sort of immigration police station, to complete the next step in receiving our permits of stay (i.e., we still don't have them yet). We all went as a USAC group, and since one of the program coordinators "knows a guy," we got fast-tracked to the front of the line. Now. I try not to complain about things that are annoying for me but quintessentially Italian, like the supermarket being closed at 8 p.m. on a weeknight, but I was PISSED at the questura. Having had to go to Rome once to get my visa renewed, I was fully prepared to wait a few hours in line to get my stuff done. A few, okay, fine. But we arrived at 9 a.m. to the station and I did not leave until 5 p.m. that evening. No breaks, no food or drinks, and we couldn't even venture outside since leaving would mean losing your place in line. Basically we had to get fingerprinted and handprinted and whatever else, and then they had to measure how tall we were. That's it. Doesn't really sound like an 8-hour job to me, but there you have it. So, yeah, the whole experience was definitely balls. But now I'm officially legally here in Italy. And I spent the time getting to know some of the people in USAC that I hadn't really gotten a chance to really talk to yet, so that was fun. We also met some other people who were studying abroad from China/Lebanon/Argentina, who just happened to be at the station at the same time as us. I guess that's about it. On the way home, I was so hungry/annoyed that I bought myself some arancini as a treat. That was good, too.
The next day, I met up with my international affairs professor, who I am definitely obsessed with, to take a tour of the ITC and get to know the facilities. The whole place seems pretty cool and the library was just redone so it's all pretty modern. The Centre is set up a bit like a college campus, in that they have dorms and it's essentially self-contained, and now that my name's on the list (fancy, I know), I'm free to come and go as I please. We also hung out for a bit and had breakfast at the Centre's cafe, so we got to chat for a while and that was cool. Friday night was quiet since we were all getting ready to go to VENICE for the weekend. [insert Venice blog here]
Post-Venice (that would be the past three days), I had a pretty easy school week, since I had each of my classes only once this week. Nevertheless, the week felt improbably busy, since it was full of other shenanigans that managed to keep me occupied. For example, I went to the gym. Once. Pretty taxing, I know. Also, I had to buy a light bulb. That one was actually reasonably taxing, since it required two grocery store trips (the first time, as previously mentioned, the store was closed) and then I had to climb a ladder to get to my bedroom light. I'm essentially a handyman now, available for hire. I also gave a presentation on Sicily for my Culture class, which mostly consisted of me showing pictures of the places I've been and the church my nonno painted (but I mean, whatever, I'm not the granddaughter of like a famous historically important artist or anything, right?). A couple of nights ago, since obviously with classes and an internship and writing for the paper and trying to be a skinny bitch I'm still not busy enough, I met with a woman who got a hold of me through USAC about a babysitting job. Basically she wants her sons to learn English, the theory being that having a babysitter who is inept at Italian will force them to become bilingual. Getting to her apartment was an adventure in itself, since it involved switching buses and other such intricacies. It might have been easier to get there had I not forgotten the lady's name, her apartment number AND my phone. I only knew which bus stop to get off at, so I literally walked to every apartment within a block's radius of the stop, reading all the names on the buzzers until I saw one that looked familiar. So I buzzed it, and was immediately accosted by an old Italian woman clearly not in need of a babysitter, so of course I ran away across the street, as if escaping the situation would make her judge me less (it didn't, I'm sure). The second familiar-seeming name did indeed turn out to be the right apartment, so I met her and her sons, Filippo and Giorgio. The little one was pretty cute, although he tried to draw on my coat, and the older one invited me to play hide and seek (I was mostly impressed that a five-year-old knew how to converse with me in English). Anyway, I'm not sure if I have the job yet, since it depends on whether or not my Italian class gets moved to evenings, in which case I will not have the job since she needs an evening babysitter. I'm pretty neutral about it, since I could use the money and I like kids, but I'm also pretty busy already and I think babysitting would take away from the internship, which would suck since I am trying to be my professor's most brilliant student (these are the words he uses, another sign that he is my professorial soul mate. we have a final paper in the class, and he says "the most brilliant paper" will get presented in front of the class. I WANT TO BE THE MOST BRILLIANT.) I guess these are the things that make my life seem busy. I only had one class on Wednesday, but I was inexplicably away from my apartment from 10:45 in the morning until 6:30 in the evening. I'd ask someone to explain that to me, but it's probably impossible.
Anyway, I guess that's about all for right now. Last night, we went out, which is always fun, especially when there are Italians to drive you so you don't have to walk. This weekend will probably be pretty quiet, since a lot of people are going out of town for the long weekend. I, on the other hand, am staying home, both to save money and to take advantage of an almost-empty apartment. One final thing, I am once again a published columnist! New and improved mugshot this time, thankfully. Click here to read the article. This one's about aperitivo, not sure if I like the article very much this time. It seems a little more newsy than I intended, with much less of the ramble-y charm that I feel makes up the core of my (negligible) appeal. But that's okay, because there are still many more to come! Okay, done for now. Will probably write again after Tuesday, which is when we are going to an ORANGE-THROWING BATTLE in Ivrea. Yes, I'm excited too. Arrivederci! xoxx
I have no more photos yet, but this is the ILO's logo, which practically makes it my logo! Considering immortalizing it in tattoo form on my body. Probably my bum.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Venezia e Verona
All right, so obviously I have a lot to catch up on. It would be impossible to get up to date with everything in one post without inducing eye strain and/or severe boredom on the parts of my readers (and, let’s face it, on my part too). So for right now you’ll just get to read about Venice (Venezia) and Verona (Verona…), where I spent this past weekend, but I PROMISE I will catch up on last week....when I have the time (who am I kidding, I have plenty of time) and the motivation. Soon!
We began this auspicious trip by waking up at butt in the morning, in order to make it to school by 8 a.m. (at which time, I might mention, the sun had only just risen). We celebrated the beginning of the trip with a glass of wine, which was not at all inappropriate because it was frizzante wine, which is a breakfast wine (probably not, I just made this up. maybe it's true)…so this was totally sensible. Hopped on the bus that USAC had chartered for us, a gleaming example of Italian auto manufacturing, by which I mostly mean the bus had TWO doors—a regular one up front and then one in the middle for the back half of the bus. Good thinking, Italy. We then embarked on the six-hour ride, stopping briefly at a gas station to get lunch. Now, I know that gas stations in America sell hot food; they sell hot dogs and plastic cheese nachos and, well, that’s about it. This particular gas station had both a coffee bar and a sandwich shop. Of course, an Italian sandwich shop is rather different from your regular Port of Subs. The ingredients are all completely fresh, the sandwiches are pre-made (none of this picky American business—you eat what’s on the sandwich already or you don’t eat at all), and then they grill the one you pick. I had a bagel (now pronounced baaah-ghel), the first that I have encountered since arriving in Italy. And so I had a sesame seed baaah-ghel sandwich with prosciutto, cream cheese and assorted greens. DELICIOUS. All these adventures in new-old food had exhausted me obviously, so I napped for a while until the program leaders (Alyssa, Daniele and Eliana, for future reference) decided to put on a movie, Something’s Gotta Give. Most of the time, the movie was drowned out by all the guys on the bus complaining about old people sex scenes and girls aww-ing every time someone fell in love. THANK GOD Italians love subtitles as much as I do. They are a people after my own heart, that’s for sure. And, uh, I can’t believe I just wrote 400 words on the bus ride…so I’m going to move PAST the incredibly long trek we had to make from the bus to the hotel once it arrived in Venice, and I won’t even mention the fact that one of the guys in the program got attacked with shaving cream on the walk to the hotel because that is just the Italian way during Carnevale. So now that I’ve NOT mentioned these things, I can tell you about my hotel room.
I shared the room with four other girls, split between two bedrooms, and we each got our own beds, thank God (side note: I never know if I should type thank God or thank god, but I suppose that’s a discussion for another day). The only really notable part of the room, actually, was the bathroom. The toilet area was singularly interesting, I think. In the little bathroom, the toilet was situated as per usual (you know, on the ground), but then the walls surrounding the room had bench seating, as if inviting spectators during urination. It’s possible that I’m not explaining this very well, so I’ll put a photo (YES, this post has photos!) at the end of this. We then all left the hotel and went on a walking tour, led by an absolute gem of a woman named Maria, who mostly spent the entire time relating every sight in Venice back to her two sons and how awesome they are. We then went to dinner at a restaurant where I decided to splurge (the first of many such occasions on this trip) on a dinner known as the “tourist menu,” which is apparently very common in such a touristy town as Venice. Basically, for a flat fee of fifteen euros, I got two courses, a side dish and two glasses of wine. I’d like to note at this time that fifteen euros never seems so bad when you agree to pay it, because the number fifteen attached to such a large meal seems very reasonable, but it becomes less so when you realize that you just spent 21 dollars on dinner. Anyway, it was very delicious, but I probably wouldn’t do it again, because I don’t want to be a poor for the rest of my life on account of this trip. After dinner, we went back to the hotel and socialized with many USACers, before departing for Campo Santa Margherita, a relatively large piazza where they were having a concert/dance party in celebration of Carnevale. It was quite good fun, aside from being mildly harassed by a creepy Italian man. We caroused for a while more in the square before wandering home (and I do mean wandering, I can’t begin to explain how easy it is to get confused in Venezia, a city in which there are eight million side streets that all look exactly the same). Stumbled into bed, at which point I found out that my bed, instead of having a headboard, was backed up against the radiator. I slept quite warmly.
The next morning, had to wake up at butt a.m. again to catch the continental breakfast at the hotel. Then got ready for the day and went out shopping, where I procured myself a mask and a leather bracelet and uh…nothing else. This was the point in the trip where I had fooled myself into thinking that I wasn’t going to spend very much. Yeah, OK, Kathleen. We stopped for lunch in a small family restaurant, which was a gigantic blessing not so much because I was hungry but because my feet hurt so damn much and I finally got to sit down. Had pasta carbonara (delicious) and scored some free cookies for dessert (I know, how thrifty of me). Then walked around for another million hours. Actually, when I said before that I bought two things and nothing else, I lied. I bought CONFETTI, which was easily the best investment of my life. Given the festive atmosphere of the city, the custom is to throw confetti at anyone who looks even a little bit fun, especially children. So I occupied myself most of the day throwing bits of paper at people and getting them thrown back at me. After lunch, we wandered into Piazza San Marco (the biggest in Venice, where all the famous stuff is), where there was a parade going on. Before we reached the parade area, we ran into a group of old people who seemed to be having as much fun with confetti as we were. Very quickly, we were engaged in a confetti-throwing war, of which I was of course the first casualty. I blame it on my impetuous nature. In any event, I had a lot of confetti thrown in my mouth, which incapacitated me for a while as I tried not to die. Nevertheless, I quite enjoyed it, and I wish all old people were that much fun. Then watched the parade, which was cool, I guess, nothing too special. Wandered around a bit more before deciding to go back to the hotel to nap for a while, which was HARDLY A SUCCESS. The route we thought would be most efficient to get back was apparently blocked (which is outrageous, by the way, on one of Venice’s busiest days of the year), so we took random streets, encountering many human traffic jams, for AT LEAST an hour (maybe more?) before making it back to the hotel. At this point, I was very grateful for my nap, and got up only because the prospect of dinner was presented to me. Good dinner, slightly marred by the pervy waiter who tried to kiss Micki and who spent much time hitting on the hottest girls at the table. By the end of dinner, we were the absolute last people left in the restaurant, so the owners were trying to get us to leave. They asked if we wanted to meet some real Italians in Venice, which was of course a yes, and we were introduced to an Italian about our age, who took all ten of us back to his apartment to hang out with him and his roommate, a nice guy named Chef Tony who spoke zero English, the result of which being that the burden of conversing with him fell solely upon me, the only one of us who knew enough Italian to make fractured small talk. We also learned how to roll our own cigarettes, some of us in theory rather than in practice (and by some of us, I mean me, since I don’t actually smoke, nor did I actually roll a cigarette). Upon leaving their place, we tried to walk home. We tried a lot. Instead, we ended up on the complete opposite side of the city, literally at water’s edge. We asked some boatmen for directions home, but they told us it was TOO FAR TO WALK, that is how far we were. They told us to turn left and go straight forever basically, but when we made the first left it was quite literally a dead end…so we decided to take the next left, which, as it turned out was into WATER. I’m still not actually sure how we got back to the hotel, except by ignoring every direction the boatmen gave us and mostly just walking blindly. Two hours later (it seemed), we arrived back to the hotel, outside whose doors we were promptly accosted by an Italian man, who felt the need to let us know which among us was the most beautiful (Micki) and proclaim her Miss Venice 2010. Cool. We escaped him, got back to our rooms, and basically collapsed into a very deep sleep.
The next morning, had another quick breakfast and did some quick shopping (postcards, souvenirs, etc., completely flouting my plan of not spending any more money) before hopping on the bus to drive to Verona. Arrived, took many group photos and saw some very expensive shops where I obviously bought nothing, and then came to Romeo and Juliet’s balcony, one of the main attractions of Verona. Took photos with a statue of Juliet, groping her breast as is the custom (supposedly if you rub her right boob, you will have good luck in love….as Juliet so obviously did). Then admired what I suppose I can call the Wall of Love, a passageway that leads to the statue where people write love notes and stick them to the wall. Literally thousands of love notes, which was a very impressive sight, many photos were taken. Then it was time for lunch. We had learned on the bus that the culinary specialty of Verona is horse, so of course it was my singular goal to eat horse and be able to tell everyone what an adventure it was. We found a place that served it, so we had cavallo alla pastissada (or something like that), which was some sort of horsey stew served with polenta. It was actually pretty good, tasted a lot like roast beef, although I actually felt strangely guilty while I was eating it. I don’t even like animals that much, and I never feel any guilt eating any other meat, but this was weird. I’m glad I ate it though. Anyway, hopped back on the bus, endured Analyze That for the ride home, took a little nap, and arrived back in Torino at about 8 p.m. I arrived back to lots of homework, which was awesome. And now I am done. I really have no way to end this post gracefully, since I have nothing left to say. Also, I should never pre-type one of these into Word ever again, because now I know that I just wrote a 2000-word post. Your lives are all 2000 words richer now; I am very sorry. Okay, photos now. Ciao! xo
We began this auspicious trip by waking up at butt in the morning, in order to make it to school by 8 a.m. (at which time, I might mention, the sun had only just risen). We celebrated the beginning of the trip with a glass of wine, which was not at all inappropriate because it was frizzante wine, which is a breakfast wine (probably not, I just made this up. maybe it's true)…so this was totally sensible. Hopped on the bus that USAC had chartered for us, a gleaming example of Italian auto manufacturing, by which I mostly mean the bus had TWO doors—a regular one up front and then one in the middle for the back half of the bus. Good thinking, Italy. We then embarked on the six-hour ride, stopping briefly at a gas station to get lunch. Now, I know that gas stations in America sell hot food; they sell hot dogs and plastic cheese nachos and, well, that’s about it. This particular gas station had both a coffee bar and a sandwich shop. Of course, an Italian sandwich shop is rather different from your regular Port of Subs. The ingredients are all completely fresh, the sandwiches are pre-made (none of this picky American business—you eat what’s on the sandwich already or you don’t eat at all), and then they grill the one you pick. I had a bagel (now pronounced baaah-ghel), the first that I have encountered since arriving in Italy. And so I had a sesame seed baaah-ghel sandwich with prosciutto, cream cheese and assorted greens. DELICIOUS. All these adventures in new-old food had exhausted me obviously, so I napped for a while until the program leaders (Alyssa, Daniele and Eliana, for future reference) decided to put on a movie, Something’s Gotta Give. Most of the time, the movie was drowned out by all the guys on the bus complaining about old people sex scenes and girls aww-ing every time someone fell in love. THANK GOD Italians love subtitles as much as I do. They are a people after my own heart, that’s for sure. And, uh, I can’t believe I just wrote 400 words on the bus ride…so I’m going to move PAST the incredibly long trek we had to make from the bus to the hotel once it arrived in Venice, and I won’t even mention the fact that one of the guys in the program got attacked with shaving cream on the walk to the hotel because that is just the Italian way during Carnevale. So now that I’ve NOT mentioned these things, I can tell you about my hotel room.
I shared the room with four other girls, split between two bedrooms, and we each got our own beds, thank God (side note: I never know if I should type thank God or thank god, but I suppose that’s a discussion for another day). The only really notable part of the room, actually, was the bathroom. The toilet area was singularly interesting, I think. In the little bathroom, the toilet was situated as per usual (you know, on the ground), but then the walls surrounding the room had bench seating, as if inviting spectators during urination. It’s possible that I’m not explaining this very well, so I’ll put a photo (YES, this post has photos!) at the end of this. We then all left the hotel and went on a walking tour, led by an absolute gem of a woman named Maria, who mostly spent the entire time relating every sight in Venice back to her two sons and how awesome they are. We then went to dinner at a restaurant where I decided to splurge (the first of many such occasions on this trip) on a dinner known as the “tourist menu,” which is apparently very common in such a touristy town as Venice. Basically, for a flat fee of fifteen euros, I got two courses, a side dish and two glasses of wine. I’d like to note at this time that fifteen euros never seems so bad when you agree to pay it, because the number fifteen attached to such a large meal seems very reasonable, but it becomes less so when you realize that you just spent 21 dollars on dinner. Anyway, it was very delicious, but I probably wouldn’t do it again, because I don’t want to be a poor for the rest of my life on account of this trip. After dinner, we went back to the hotel and socialized with many USACers, before departing for Campo Santa Margherita, a relatively large piazza where they were having a concert/dance party in celebration of Carnevale. It was quite good fun, aside from being mildly harassed by a creepy Italian man. We caroused for a while more in the square before wandering home (and I do mean wandering, I can’t begin to explain how easy it is to get confused in Venezia, a city in which there are eight million side streets that all look exactly the same). Stumbled into bed, at which point I found out that my bed, instead of having a headboard, was backed up against the radiator. I slept quite warmly.
The next morning, had to wake up at butt a.m. again to catch the continental breakfast at the hotel. Then got ready for the day and went out shopping, where I procured myself a mask and a leather bracelet and uh…nothing else. This was the point in the trip where I had fooled myself into thinking that I wasn’t going to spend very much. Yeah, OK, Kathleen. We stopped for lunch in a small family restaurant, which was a gigantic blessing not so much because I was hungry but because my feet hurt so damn much and I finally got to sit down. Had pasta carbonara (delicious) and scored some free cookies for dessert (I know, how thrifty of me). Then walked around for another million hours. Actually, when I said before that I bought two things and nothing else, I lied. I bought CONFETTI, which was easily the best investment of my life. Given the festive atmosphere of the city, the custom is to throw confetti at anyone who looks even a little bit fun, especially children. So I occupied myself most of the day throwing bits of paper at people and getting them thrown back at me. After lunch, we wandered into Piazza San Marco (the biggest in Venice, where all the famous stuff is), where there was a parade going on. Before we reached the parade area, we ran into a group of old people who seemed to be having as much fun with confetti as we were. Very quickly, we were engaged in a confetti-throwing war, of which I was of course the first casualty. I blame it on my impetuous nature. In any event, I had a lot of confetti thrown in my mouth, which incapacitated me for a while as I tried not to die. Nevertheless, I quite enjoyed it, and I wish all old people were that much fun. Then watched the parade, which was cool, I guess, nothing too special. Wandered around a bit more before deciding to go back to the hotel to nap for a while, which was HARDLY A SUCCESS. The route we thought would be most efficient to get back was apparently blocked (which is outrageous, by the way, on one of Venice’s busiest days of the year), so we took random streets, encountering many human traffic jams, for AT LEAST an hour (maybe more?) before making it back to the hotel. At this point, I was very grateful for my nap, and got up only because the prospect of dinner was presented to me. Good dinner, slightly marred by the pervy waiter who tried to kiss Micki and who spent much time hitting on the hottest girls at the table. By the end of dinner, we were the absolute last people left in the restaurant, so the owners were trying to get us to leave. They asked if we wanted to meet some real Italians in Venice, which was of course a yes, and we were introduced to an Italian about our age, who took all ten of us back to his apartment to hang out with him and his roommate, a nice guy named Chef Tony who spoke zero English, the result of which being that the burden of conversing with him fell solely upon me, the only one of us who knew enough Italian to make fractured small talk. We also learned how to roll our own cigarettes, some of us in theory rather than in practice (and by some of us, I mean me, since I don’t actually smoke, nor did I actually roll a cigarette). Upon leaving their place, we tried to walk home. We tried a lot. Instead, we ended up on the complete opposite side of the city, literally at water’s edge. We asked some boatmen for directions home, but they told us it was TOO FAR TO WALK, that is how far we were. They told us to turn left and go straight forever basically, but when we made the first left it was quite literally a dead end…so we decided to take the next left, which, as it turned out was into WATER. I’m still not actually sure how we got back to the hotel, except by ignoring every direction the boatmen gave us and mostly just walking blindly. Two hours later (it seemed), we arrived back to the hotel, outside whose doors we were promptly accosted by an Italian man, who felt the need to let us know which among us was the most beautiful (Micki) and proclaim her Miss Venice 2010. Cool. We escaped him, got back to our rooms, and basically collapsed into a very deep sleep.
The next morning, had another quick breakfast and did some quick shopping (postcards, souvenirs, etc., completely flouting my plan of not spending any more money) before hopping on the bus to drive to Verona. Arrived, took many group photos and saw some very expensive shops where I obviously bought nothing, and then came to Romeo and Juliet’s balcony, one of the main attractions of Verona. Took photos with a statue of Juliet, groping her breast as is the custom (supposedly if you rub her right boob, you will have good luck in love….as Juliet so obviously did). Then admired what I suppose I can call the Wall of Love, a passageway that leads to the statue where people write love notes and stick them to the wall. Literally thousands of love notes, which was a very impressive sight, many photos were taken. Then it was time for lunch. We had learned on the bus that the culinary specialty of Verona is horse, so of course it was my singular goal to eat horse and be able to tell everyone what an adventure it was. We found a place that served it, so we had cavallo alla pastissada (or something like that), which was some sort of horsey stew served with polenta. It was actually pretty good, tasted a lot like roast beef, although I actually felt strangely guilty while I was eating it. I don’t even like animals that much, and I never feel any guilt eating any other meat, but this was weird. I’m glad I ate it though. Anyway, hopped back on the bus, endured Analyze That for the ride home, took a little nap, and arrived back in Torino at about 8 p.m. I arrived back to lots of homework, which was awesome. And now I am done. I really have no way to end this post gracefully, since I have nothing left to say. Also, I should never pre-type one of these into Word ever again, because now I know that I just wrote a 2000-word post. Your lives are all 2000 words richer now; I am very sorry. Okay, photos now. Ciao! xo
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