It started out with an eye twitch. The eye twitch has not stopped. I've taken out my contacts and had some water to drink, but the sensation is persistent.
I think I need more sleep.
This morning I woke up and went to Mercato Centrale where I did ALL of my grocery shopping for about five euros. This included special sunflower seed bread my chef recommended to me for 2.50 (a fifty cent discount because she knew my chef), two carrots, a huge zucchini, and two tomatoes for 99 cents, two Fugi apples and five clementines for 1.20, and some ricotta cheese for 90 cents. I was so proud of myself for getting such fresh ingredients at reasonable prices.
For lunch, I decided to buy a slice of pizza at a famous pizzeria I've been wanting to try out. It was cheap and delish! Then, I had Italian. I practically dozed off in the middle of it.
When I got home, Jess told me she and Alexi were going to get gelato at Grom and take pictures for her food photography class. The assignment is "Through the Mouth of a Tourist." "You can come if you want! I'm paying," she added. Or, underhandedly bribed. I consented, of course. "Great! Wear your hat and some red lipstick. You'll be my model." Grreeaaat.
I got gelato with Zabaglione and Pistachio (a fab combo!), and then was told to "act natural and lick the gelato instead of eating it with a spoon." Funny how you forget what it's like to eat ice cream when someone is watching you. Wait, do I use my tongue or my lips? It's like someone was filming an intimate scene for a blockbuster movie. How do I do this again? What's this supposed to look like?
Well, some of the shots turned out well. Jess focused on the gelato while Alexi of course took artsy photos from sharp angles. It was fun! And now Jess may make me go eat a panino with her tomorrow at a famous bar so we can take more photos for her assignment.
I got home and watched an interesting documentary on Wikileaks' Iraq War files. It was disheartening, and it makes me want to do something to soothe the Iraqis' hurt, to show them the positives of American culture and our freedoms. If ONLY I were a diplomat. Maybe one day. A girl can dream!
Katie and I went to church tonight. It was such an intimate time with the Lord. I could feel His reassurance and his presence. I loved being with the community of believers, too, and rejoicing in the Lord. We sang a few hymns and Matt Redman's "You Never Let Go." I was overwhelmed by the God's faithfulness. I've been praying for this community, and it is so clear that he has provided, and that he wants my praise. And I am so grateful! I don't deserve this grace. He didn't have to provide me with these lovely people and my lovely friends.
Off to finish my documentary on Iraq before bed.
Listen, it's less than three weeks til I come back to 'Murica. I'm freaking out a little bit. And tomorrow's IL PRIMO DECEMBRE! Ahhhhhhh. So happy.
Sleep well, Dormite bene!
Firenze, Italia
The Ponte Vecchio (the Old Bridge) in Florence across the Arno River. This bridge is about two blocks away from my apartment.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Germany: A Christmas PARADISE
Is today really only MONDAY?
That means that YESTERDAY I was in Germany. !
Germany. Land of meat and potatoes, efficient trains, hot wine, and Christmas paradise.
I want to go to there. Again.
While Alece and I were still strolling the sidewalk next to the Main, we were plotting ways to come back to Deustcheland the next weekend. Unfortunately, we couldn't find tickets as cheaply as we did for last weekend (yes, eight euros there, eight euros back! ryanair.com should be every study abroad student's homepage).
I knew it was going to be a trip to remember about five minutes before we landed in Hahn. I was sitting by the window, sleeping soundly. A gentle nudge at my sleeve. "Cat, wake up. Look outside the window!" she considerately whispered. I peeled my eyes open and looked down. Are those tents? Is that a carnival? I closed my eyes to refresh my dried contacts and looked again. It was SNOW covering the most adorable German villages! The picture taking commenced.
Once we were outside the airport and waiting for our bus to Frankfurt, we knew it was picture time. How often does German snowflake land on the tongue of a young girl from Macon, Georgia? I'm sure it was clean water; Germans are sticklers about cleanliness. I'd say that to Germany, cleanliness is above godliness (Not that the people are pagans!).
Our bus ride was two hours, and so we plotted what to do in Frankfurt and enjoyed viewing the sweet German cottages from the comfort of our seats. One day, I will rent a cabin with a working fireplace in a small village in Germany and stay for a week in the wintertime. Or maybe I'll honeymoon there. All I wanted to do was jump out of the bus, find a little log hut, snuggle in a blanket, and later in the day dine in a small haus overridden with locals.
That didn't happen. One day it will. Instead, Alece and I arrived in Frankfurt, FINALLY found our hostel after staring idiotically at it for who knows how long. Oh so THAT building that is visible from five blocks away that says the hotel name in red is our hostel. Ohhhhhh. But, that didn't get us down! We always just laugh at ourselves. Honestly, nothing really gets us down when we're together.
You see, Alece and I are perfect travel companions. We're two strong women who are not afraid to speak up, but also know how go out of the way for something special the other wants to do. We know what it took to get us across the "pond," and we're going to take advantage of every moment we have here. We make the most of whatever city we're in, and Alece has tons of energy to keep things upbeat! We get up no later than 8 and normally go to bed after midnight. "No naps today, just hot chocolate!" she always says when we have a busy day. "And coffee for me!" I always add. Alece is super considerate. She's as quiet as a mouse in the morning, and I'm convinced she'll never wake up a hostelmate as long as we travel.
My highlight of the trip was the German Christmas Market in the Romer district of Frankfurt. Oh it was magical! It was a forest of Christmas goodness, and if you know how much I love Christmas, you'll understand how close this comes to my heart. My parents have always made Christmas a big deal. Rightfully so! We celebrate the birth of our Savior, and we always spend a lot of family time together. It's special to me because just, what? three years ago? my dad had brain tumor removal surgery the day after Christmas. Christmas morning we opened presents, ate our traditional breakFEAST and headed to the neurosurgery unit in Birmingham, Alabama. That night we prayed for each other and said our goodbyes, making sure to tell each other how much we meant to each other. Since then I'm reminded of how I should never take a loved one for granted (although, I'm not perfect...and have definitely done that since then). I've always loved Christmas; it's a symbol of God's faithfulness in my mind. He reached down and healed my father, but more than that, he came down from heaven and took on the lowly form of a baby...and then lived on this earth for 33 years.
Anyway, back to Germany. All of the food is hearty. Too hearty for my taste, although I surely enjoyed the meals we had! The last night we had to go for thai food because we couldn't eat any more bratwurst.
Well, my computer is about to die so I guess that means I should head to bed.
Goodnight my dears!
That means that YESTERDAY I was in Germany. !
Germany. Land of meat and potatoes, efficient trains, hot wine, and Christmas paradise.
I want to go to there. Again.
While Alece and I were still strolling the sidewalk next to the Main, we were plotting ways to come back to Deustcheland the next weekend. Unfortunately, we couldn't find tickets as cheaply as we did for last weekend (yes, eight euros there, eight euros back! ryanair.com should be every study abroad student's homepage).
I knew it was going to be a trip to remember about five minutes before we landed in Hahn. I was sitting by the window, sleeping soundly. A gentle nudge at my sleeve. "Cat, wake up. Look outside the window!" she considerately whispered. I peeled my eyes open and looked down. Are those tents? Is that a carnival? I closed my eyes to refresh my dried contacts and looked again. It was SNOW covering the most adorable German villages! The picture taking commenced.
Once we were outside the airport and waiting for our bus to Frankfurt, we knew it was picture time. How often does German snowflake land on the tongue of a young girl from Macon, Georgia? I'm sure it was clean water; Germans are sticklers about cleanliness. I'd say that to Germany, cleanliness is above godliness (Not that the people are pagans!).
Our bus ride was two hours, and so we plotted what to do in Frankfurt and enjoyed viewing the sweet German cottages from the comfort of our seats. One day, I will rent a cabin with a working fireplace in a small village in Germany and stay for a week in the wintertime. Or maybe I'll honeymoon there. All I wanted to do was jump out of the bus, find a little log hut, snuggle in a blanket, and later in the day dine in a small haus overridden with locals.
That didn't happen. One day it will. Instead, Alece and I arrived in Frankfurt, FINALLY found our hostel after staring idiotically at it for who knows how long. Oh so THAT building that is visible from five blocks away that says the hotel name in red is our hostel. Ohhhhhh. But, that didn't get us down! We always just laugh at ourselves. Honestly, nothing really gets us down when we're together.
You see, Alece and I are perfect travel companions. We're two strong women who are not afraid to speak up, but also know how go out of the way for something special the other wants to do. We know what it took to get us across the "pond," and we're going to take advantage of every moment we have here. We make the most of whatever city we're in, and Alece has tons of energy to keep things upbeat! We get up no later than 8 and normally go to bed after midnight. "No naps today, just hot chocolate!" she always says when we have a busy day. "And coffee for me!" I always add. Alece is super considerate. She's as quiet as a mouse in the morning, and I'm convinced she'll never wake up a hostelmate as long as we travel.
My highlight of the trip was the German Christmas Market in the Romer district of Frankfurt. Oh it was magical! It was a forest of Christmas goodness, and if you know how much I love Christmas, you'll understand how close this comes to my heart. My parents have always made Christmas a big deal. Rightfully so! We celebrate the birth of our Savior, and we always spend a lot of family time together. It's special to me because just, what? three years ago? my dad had brain tumor removal surgery the day after Christmas. Christmas morning we opened presents, ate our traditional breakFEAST and headed to the neurosurgery unit in Birmingham, Alabama. That night we prayed for each other and said our goodbyes, making sure to tell each other how much we meant to each other. Since then I'm reminded of how I should never take a loved one for granted (although, I'm not perfect...and have definitely done that since then). I've always loved Christmas; it's a symbol of God's faithfulness in my mind. He reached down and healed my father, but more than that, he came down from heaven and took on the lowly form of a baby...and then lived on this earth for 33 years.
Anyway, back to Germany. All of the food is hearty. Too hearty for my taste, although I surely enjoyed the meals we had! The last night we had to go for thai food because we couldn't eat any more bratwurst.
Well, my computer is about to die so I guess that means I should head to bed.
Goodnight my dears!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Italian Thanksgiving!
Today was my first Thanksgiving without my family. Thanksgiving is always a big deal for us Southerners. You HAVE to have your brined, juicy turkey, dressing (although, I'm the ONLY person here that doesn't call it "stuffing," and I get made fun of a lot), green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, Mama's peas, and sweet potato pie or pecan pie.
In Italy, they don't commonly eat turkey. Or sweet potatoes. Or green beans. Or pecans. And dressing? Nope.
So how did I cope without a traditional Turkey day feast? ISA took us out to an Italianized American three-course Thanksgiving dinner. First, they poured us a glass of champagne to celebrate our big day. Then, they brought out the bread and newly pressed olive oil. Next came a piece of heaven: the creamy pumpkin soup. It was out of this world! Leyla thinks it was so good because they made their own stock at the restaurant. Whatever it was, it was some of the best soup I have ever had. It was slightly sweet but also savory.
The next course was...ta-da! The perfectly prepared turkey with dressing and a little bit of gravy on top. Next to it on the plate were "mashed potatoes" which looked more like gravy. They had obviously been pureed and had a lot of milk. They tasted fantastic, though! Their conception of American cuisine made me laugh a little. I definitely appreciated it, but the most humorous part of the meal was the "cranberry sauce." Well, cranberries don't grow in Italy. But that's okay because they made us blueberry sauce and didn't explain what it was. Also, it was warm and soupy. Yet delicious! I'm NOT complaining (although some "privileged" Americans had some negative comments...yes, even with a free gourmet meal!).
We also had peas and some not so delicious pickled onions. Don't know why they thought that was part of Thanksgiving.
After, I came home, and I skyped my girl, Katie Gamble. The Gambler. An amazing friend. We had so much fun, and it was like we had never been apart. I miss her so much, and i was sad our conversation was cut short. My parents skyped me from Mama's house, so I got to see my Dad's side of the family! I chatted with my grandma for a bit and told her I was going to help her make dressing for Christmas. Yay! Add that to my recipe book. I saw my 1st cousins, once removed, and they are all getting so big. It freaks me out. They're all adorable though. I also go to see my puppy, Hallie. Mom's teaching her tricks. I can't wait to shake her paw when I get home!
Now, I've got to go to bed because tomorrow Alece and I go to GERMANIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
IT'S GOING TO BE SNOWING!!!!!!!! I'll take my scarf and duck boots, and, OBVIOUSLY, tons of pictures.
Auf Wiedersehen!!!!
In Italy, they don't commonly eat turkey. Or sweet potatoes. Or green beans. Or pecans. And dressing? Nope.
So how did I cope without a traditional Turkey day feast? ISA took us out to an Italianized American three-course Thanksgiving dinner. First, they poured us a glass of champagne to celebrate our big day. Then, they brought out the bread and newly pressed olive oil. Next came a piece of heaven: the creamy pumpkin soup. It was out of this world! Leyla thinks it was so good because they made their own stock at the restaurant. Whatever it was, it was some of the best soup I have ever had. It was slightly sweet but also savory.
The next course was...ta-da! The perfectly prepared turkey with dressing and a little bit of gravy on top. Next to it on the plate were "mashed potatoes" which looked more like gravy. They had obviously been pureed and had a lot of milk. They tasted fantastic, though! Their conception of American cuisine made me laugh a little. I definitely appreciated it, but the most humorous part of the meal was the "cranberry sauce." Well, cranberries don't grow in Italy. But that's okay because they made us blueberry sauce and didn't explain what it was. Also, it was warm and soupy. Yet delicious! I'm NOT complaining (although some "privileged" Americans had some negative comments...yes, even with a free gourmet meal!).
We also had peas and some not so delicious pickled onions. Don't know why they thought that was part of Thanksgiving.
After, I came home, and I skyped my girl, Katie Gamble. The Gambler. An amazing friend. We had so much fun, and it was like we had never been apart. I miss her so much, and i was sad our conversation was cut short. My parents skyped me from Mama's house, so I got to see my Dad's side of the family! I chatted with my grandma for a bit and told her I was going to help her make dressing for Christmas. Yay! Add that to my recipe book. I saw my 1st cousins, once removed, and they are all getting so big. It freaks me out. They're all adorable though. I also go to see my puppy, Hallie. Mom's teaching her tricks. I can't wait to shake her paw when I get home!
Now, I've got to go to bed because tomorrow Alece and I go to GERMANIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
IT'S GOING TO BE SNOWING!!!!!!!! I'll take my scarf and duck boots, and, OBVIOUSLY, tons of pictures.
Auf Wiedersehen!!!!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Cauliflower Pudding with Gorgonzola Bechamel Sauce, Convento di San Marco, Pumpkin Risotto: all in one day.
I haven't been sleeping well for the past few days, and this morning I woke up at 7:20...I don't have class until 1:30. This may seem like a bummer, but it turned out to be a blessing!
I had a quiz at 1:30 so I knew I needed to still study for it. But first I wanted to roam the town...and I knocked off one item from my list!
After my morning green tea and yogurt with cereal, I got ready, read and journaled, then headed out the door for San Lorenzo, Italian notes in hand.
I decided to check out the chapel before going to the convent and cloister. It was breathtaking beautiful and almost in the shape of a square with small side chapels. There were some foreboding, closed, wooden doors in the direction of the convent, and I contemplated trying to open one and sneak in. My self-restraint won.
I eyed a statue of Fra Savanorola and gave a snicker. He's the monk that lived in the convent for a while. Eventually, he became a powerful figure in Florence and kicked the powerful Medici family out. He's also responsible for the "bonfire of the vanities," where he encouraged the burning of art and books. I'm frustrated by his attempt to destroy these beautiful pieces of the culture. Can you imagine a Florence that housed more elegance?
A little man in a yellow slicker was cleaning the floor near the statue, and he put his mop down to talk to me. "English?" I answered in Italian. Don't know why. Anyway, we chatted for a bit and he told me about Savanarola and other stories of the convent. His English was a little muddled but I nodded and "si" whenever I sensed the need. He then asked if I would like to see something, and he grabbed his building keys. We headed to one of those wooden doors and he unlocked the way to a gorgeous private chapel. He recited 1 Corinthians 13:1-3 in Italian, and we talked about the differences in translation. We talked literature, too, and he even gave me his address so that I could write him after reading one of the books he recommended. He then pointed me in the direction of the convent and strongly suggested that I see the Last Supper of Ghirlandaio.
The museum (free with the Uffizi pass!) is HUGE. It houses fabulous fresco art of religious scenes painted by Fra Angelico in each of the monk cells, more early Renaissance/Medieval art, and the huge books and writing tools of the monks who copied manuscripts. These books look like spell books...huge, velvet or leather, detailed bindings, buckles and straps all over. They reminded me of "Hocus Pocus."
Then I went to Mercato Centrale, and I bought some schiacciata just because I watched it as it was taken out of the oven. Home, egg/tomato/onion/asiago/basil scramble for lunch, study time for Italian, Italian quiz.
When I got back home, I decided to try out a recipe from class that we haven't made yet (and it helped free up space in our fridge). I made "Cauliflower Pudding with Gorgonzola Bechamel Sauce." Sounds disgusting, but it was delicious! The Cauliflower Pudding in itself did not have a strong flavor, but paring it with the Gorgonzola Bechamel made it POP! It was so. good. I was skeptical but pleasantly surprised. The roommates loved it as well. We devoured it and still have a bit of a tin leftover! Leyla also made some banana bread after buying a woman's overripe bananas at the market for only 25 cents. It was fabulous!
Soon, it was time for church! I met Katie on the Ponte Vecchio, and we chatted and admired the city together until we came to the church. Tonight, we started celebrating the advent season by talking about what each week typically represents. We got in small groups, and we had week four: God's incarnation and Mary. Our exercise what to talk about what Mary felt, what her response to Gabriel was, how we should apply her availability in the same way. A girl in our group was from Singapore and had no knowledge of Christianity. I realized how much I loved getting to explain to her about who Jesus was and why God had to come to Earth. In a weird way, it was refreshing to talk to someone with such a "blank slate"; she didn't have any prejudices or expectations, and could understand the beauty of these beginnings of Jesus's purpose. Mark led worship and we sang some great songs; "How Great Is Our God" and some others I can't remember.
I headed out early for "CIBOVision," basically a cooking class we can sign up for at school. It started around 9, and we didn't eat until 11:00 or so. Each group made different dishes using rice. We had arancini (saffron risotto balls stuffed with fresh mozzarella and then fried), stir-fried rice, mushroom risotto, rice pudding with apples, and our dish: pumpkin ravioli with parmesan cheese. Ohhhh my. Leyla was my partner, and we competed against our buddies, Kyle and Evan.
We both did the pumpkin risotto, although Leyla has been a restaurant chef before and Evan had never cut an onion. Both were delicious, and the differences between the genders were evident in the outcome. Our dish had a delicate pumpkin flavor and color, and the rice was smooth. The boys liked the cheese, the salt and the orange color of the pumpkin as well, and although their dish had a little more "crunch" (we started to run out of stock), it was de-lish. There was a rim of cheesy rice sticking around the pan from their free styles of stirring. Quite a sight. Then we got to sit and eat our dishes while watching an episode of "Modern Family." Great night.
Leyla and I walked home, and here I am now! I'm a bit tired though after my long, eventful day.
Tomorrow's another packed day, unfortunately for my tired body but fortunately for my whirling mind.
A domani!
I had a quiz at 1:30 so I knew I needed to still study for it. But first I wanted to roam the town...and I knocked off one item from my list!
After my morning green tea and yogurt with cereal, I got ready, read and journaled, then headed out the door for San Lorenzo, Italian notes in hand.
I decided to check out the chapel before going to the convent and cloister. It was breathtaking beautiful and almost in the shape of a square with small side chapels. There were some foreboding, closed, wooden doors in the direction of the convent, and I contemplated trying to open one and sneak in. My self-restraint won.
I eyed a statue of Fra Savanorola and gave a snicker. He's the monk that lived in the convent for a while. Eventually, he became a powerful figure in Florence and kicked the powerful Medici family out. He's also responsible for the "bonfire of the vanities," where he encouraged the burning of art and books. I'm frustrated by his attempt to destroy these beautiful pieces of the culture. Can you imagine a Florence that housed more elegance?
A little man in a yellow slicker was cleaning the floor near the statue, and he put his mop down to talk to me. "English?" I answered in Italian. Don't know why. Anyway, we chatted for a bit and he told me about Savanarola and other stories of the convent. His English was a little muddled but I nodded and "si" whenever I sensed the need. He then asked if I would like to see something, and he grabbed his building keys. We headed to one of those wooden doors and he unlocked the way to a gorgeous private chapel. He recited 1 Corinthians 13:1-3 in Italian, and we talked about the differences in translation. We talked literature, too, and he even gave me his address so that I could write him after reading one of the books he recommended. He then pointed me in the direction of the convent and strongly suggested that I see the Last Supper of Ghirlandaio.
The museum (free with the Uffizi pass!) is HUGE. It houses fabulous fresco art of religious scenes painted by Fra Angelico in each of the monk cells, more early Renaissance/Medieval art, and the huge books and writing tools of the monks who copied manuscripts. These books look like spell books...huge, velvet or leather, detailed bindings, buckles and straps all over. They reminded me of "Hocus Pocus."
Then I went to Mercato Centrale, and I bought some schiacciata just because I watched it as it was taken out of the oven. Home, egg/tomato/onion/asiago/basil scramble for lunch, study time for Italian, Italian quiz.
When I got back home, I decided to try out a recipe from class that we haven't made yet (and it helped free up space in our fridge). I made "Cauliflower Pudding with Gorgonzola Bechamel Sauce." Sounds disgusting, but it was delicious! The Cauliflower Pudding in itself did not have a strong flavor, but paring it with the Gorgonzola Bechamel made it POP! It was so. good. I was skeptical but pleasantly surprised. The roommates loved it as well. We devoured it and still have a bit of a tin leftover! Leyla also made some banana bread after buying a woman's overripe bananas at the market for only 25 cents. It was fabulous!
Soon, it was time for church! I met Katie on the Ponte Vecchio, and we chatted and admired the city together until we came to the church. Tonight, we started celebrating the advent season by talking about what each week typically represents. We got in small groups, and we had week four: God's incarnation and Mary. Our exercise what to talk about what Mary felt, what her response to Gabriel was, how we should apply her availability in the same way. A girl in our group was from Singapore and had no knowledge of Christianity. I realized how much I loved getting to explain to her about who Jesus was and why God had to come to Earth. In a weird way, it was refreshing to talk to someone with such a "blank slate"; she didn't have any prejudices or expectations, and could understand the beauty of these beginnings of Jesus's purpose. Mark led worship and we sang some great songs; "How Great Is Our God" and some others I can't remember.
I headed out early for "CIBOVision," basically a cooking class we can sign up for at school. It started around 9, and we didn't eat until 11:00 or so. Each group made different dishes using rice. We had arancini (saffron risotto balls stuffed with fresh mozzarella and then fried), stir-fried rice, mushroom risotto, rice pudding with apples, and our dish: pumpkin ravioli with parmesan cheese. Ohhhh my. Leyla was my partner, and we competed against our buddies, Kyle and Evan.
We both did the pumpkin risotto, although Leyla has been a restaurant chef before and Evan had never cut an onion. Both were delicious, and the differences between the genders were evident in the outcome. Our dish had a delicate pumpkin flavor and color, and the rice was smooth. The boys liked the cheese, the salt and the orange color of the pumpkin as well, and although their dish had a little more "crunch" (we started to run out of stock), it was de-lish. There was a rim of cheesy rice sticking around the pan from their free styles of stirring. Quite a sight. Then we got to sit and eat our dishes while watching an episode of "Modern Family." Great night.
Leyla and I walked home, and here I am now! I'm a bit tired though after my long, eventful day.
Tomorrow's another packed day, unfortunately for my tired body but fortunately for my whirling mind.
A domani!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Sticky Forehead Game in Orvieto
Florence has been raining just about nonstop for the past week and a half. Rain + cold + inadequate gear + work to do = not wanting to leave the house much. I know, and I'm in Florence. I've had to force myself to go to sheltered places like museums so that I won't fall out of love with the city.
Yesterday we got out of the city (although it was still raining) and took a little ISA program trip to Orvieto, Umbria. Che bella!
This city is built on a huge hill with fortress walls built around it. It was virtually impenetrable, and when it was surrounded, they had their own little system of underground tunnels. Theses caves and tunnels are not a natural phenomenon; they were carved out volcanic rock by hand. The remnants were used to make mortar. Isn't that SICK? They were created over thousands of years and are in danger of collapse, so now they have huge pillars holding them up.
In one of the tunnels we went into, there was an ancient pagan underground temple for a god of the after life. The next room over was an old wine cellar. And in the same big room was a huge system of stone disks to crush olives and a place to store the oil.
Before you walk down into the caves, there's a map of the city on the land in black, and the other figures show the underground city/tunnel system in red. I've always fantasized about living underground for a period of my life. Just exploring a system of tunnels. Maybe it's reading The Hobbit as a child or something. Realistically, I want to live in a sunny place for my life, because I believe the sun is vital to a person's happiness. A person NEEDS fresh air and sunlight to avoid depression. I have a whole schpeal I could go into...Meredith and I did with our tour guide yesterday.
When we first got out of the funicular that took us up the mountain, we headed to an overlook and then into "St. Patrick's Well." I was a bad student and didn't really listen to the tour yesterday so I don't really know its significance...but I did get to go down the 250-something steps (and climb back up them, whoosh!). It reminded me a little of the movie "The Ring." I really enjoyed it though.
The Umbrian countryside was breathtaking, of course. "The New Tuscany" considered by some, Aunt Treat told me. There was a quaint little abby around the green of the fields and it was one of the most picturesque things I've seen. I wanted to so badly to run down and just go look at it.
We also met some sweet little cats while we were there. I don't really like my cat at home, Angel, but my best friend for 13 years/now deceased cat, Jonathan, makes me have a soft spot in my heart for felines. I got him Christmas of '95, when I was five, and named him myself. I was a weird kid, okay? I even told my teacher I had eight brothers and all of their names were Jonathan. That's one of my favorite stories. You can tell I had an imagination, but could not have been more original? Maybe I'll name all of my sons Jonathan or something. I'll call one Jonathan, another Jon, another Johnny, another J. Joking.
On the way home, six of us snagged a glass booth and decided to play "The Sticky Forehead Game" where each person writes a name of a random person or figure on a piece of paper, passes it to a neighbor who must lick the paper, and put it on his forehead without looking at it. Then, each person can ask a question regarding who they are, and this goes in a circle. The object is to guess "who you are" through the answers to the questions/the hints that your friends give you. As you can imagine, this can get really funny, and really frustrating (like when you're "The Abominable Snowman," so you're sort of a man, you're an animal, you're not famous necessarily for a movie or a tv show, not in politics, and you're associated with a season). Some of the ones were "The Purple Teletubby," "Thomas The Train Engine," "Monica Lewinsky," and the like. We had such a good time. I love my friends.
Before we left Orvieto, I tried two specialties of the region: Parpadelle al Cinghiale and Est! Est!! Est!!!. Cinghiale is wild boar meat. It was fab. Est! Est!! Est!!! is a sweet white wine...probably my favorite so far. The legend is that when the Pope had to travel through towns, he had a messenger go before him to taste the wine. If it was good, he would write "Est" on the door, which meant "It is." When he tried this wine, it was so good that he wrote "Est! Est!! Est!!!" The Pope came to Montefiascone on a leg of his journey and drank the wine with such a gluttony that he ended up dying of alcohol poisoning. Dangers of alcohol, kids.
The Duomo of the city has the reputation of having the most beautiful facade in Italy. It was created in the Middle Ages and has magnificent mosaics all over it! It's all about Mary, and it's gold-en. You gotta check out my pictures. There are three or four sections that have scenes of stories of the bible; one of the creation and Fall, one of the Old Testament, one of the New Testament, and the last of the Final Judgment...gruesome but skillfully done.
Overall, I loved Orvieto so much...it's such a complex city, but so small and quaint with beautiful views from up high. Don't miss it if you come to Italy!
Today, I woke up (embarrassingly late), watched a documentary on how TV affects children (and I'm already making rules for my future children), ate some yogurt, and finished by six page essay solely on the San Marzano tomato. I had to do a whole lot of embellishing to fill up six pages.
Now, I'm celebrating the Day of Rest. Praise God for his mercy by giving us a day dedicated to relaxing after a week of work.
Arrivederci!
Yesterday we got out of the city (although it was still raining) and took a little ISA program trip to Orvieto, Umbria. Che bella!
This city is built on a huge hill with fortress walls built around it. It was virtually impenetrable, and when it was surrounded, they had their own little system of underground tunnels. Theses caves and tunnels are not a natural phenomenon; they were carved out volcanic rock by hand. The remnants were used to make mortar. Isn't that SICK? They were created over thousands of years and are in danger of collapse, so now they have huge pillars holding them up.
In one of the tunnels we went into, there was an ancient pagan underground temple for a god of the after life. The next room over was an old wine cellar. And in the same big room was a huge system of stone disks to crush olives and a place to store the oil.
Before you walk down into the caves, there's a map of the city on the land in black, and the other figures show the underground city/tunnel system in red. I've always fantasized about living underground for a period of my life. Just exploring a system of tunnels. Maybe it's reading The Hobbit as a child or something. Realistically, I want to live in a sunny place for my life, because I believe the sun is vital to a person's happiness. A person NEEDS fresh air and sunlight to avoid depression. I have a whole schpeal I could go into...Meredith and I did with our tour guide yesterday.
When we first got out of the funicular that took us up the mountain, we headed to an overlook and then into "St. Patrick's Well." I was a bad student and didn't really listen to the tour yesterday so I don't really know its significance...but I did get to go down the 250-something steps (and climb back up them, whoosh!). It reminded me a little of the movie "The Ring." I really enjoyed it though.
The Umbrian countryside was breathtaking, of course. "The New Tuscany" considered by some, Aunt Treat told me. There was a quaint little abby around the green of the fields and it was one of the most picturesque things I've seen. I wanted to so badly to run down and just go look at it.
We also met some sweet little cats while we were there. I don't really like my cat at home, Angel, but my best friend for 13 years/now deceased cat, Jonathan, makes me have a soft spot in my heart for felines. I got him Christmas of '95, when I was five, and named him myself. I was a weird kid, okay? I even told my teacher I had eight brothers and all of their names were Jonathan. That's one of my favorite stories. You can tell I had an imagination, but could not have been more original? Maybe I'll name all of my sons Jonathan or something. I'll call one Jonathan, another Jon, another Johnny, another J. Joking.
On the way home, six of us snagged a glass booth and decided to play "The Sticky Forehead Game" where each person writes a name of a random person or figure on a piece of paper, passes it to a neighbor who must lick the paper, and put it on his forehead without looking at it. Then, each person can ask a question regarding who they are, and this goes in a circle. The object is to guess "who you are" through the answers to the questions/the hints that your friends give you. As you can imagine, this can get really funny, and really frustrating (like when you're "The Abominable Snowman," so you're sort of a man, you're an animal, you're not famous necessarily for a movie or a tv show, not in politics, and you're associated with a season). Some of the ones were "The Purple Teletubby," "Thomas The Train Engine," "Monica Lewinsky," and the like. We had such a good time. I love my friends.
Before we left Orvieto, I tried two specialties of the region: Parpadelle al Cinghiale and Est! Est!! Est!!!. Cinghiale is wild boar meat. It was fab. Est! Est!! Est!!! is a sweet white wine...probably my favorite so far. The legend is that when the Pope had to travel through towns, he had a messenger go before him to taste the wine. If it was good, he would write "Est" on the door, which meant "It is." When he tried this wine, it was so good that he wrote "Est! Est!! Est!!!" The Pope came to Montefiascone on a leg of his journey and drank the wine with such a gluttony that he ended up dying of alcohol poisoning. Dangers of alcohol, kids.
The Duomo of the city has the reputation of having the most beautiful facade in Italy. It was created in the Middle Ages and has magnificent mosaics all over it! It's all about Mary, and it's gold-en. You gotta check out my pictures. There are three or four sections that have scenes of stories of the bible; one of the creation and Fall, one of the Old Testament, one of the New Testament, and the last of the Final Judgment...gruesome but skillfully done.
Overall, I loved Orvieto so much...it's such a complex city, but so small and quaint with beautiful views from up high. Don't miss it if you come to Italy!
Today, I woke up (embarrassingly late), watched a documentary on how TV affects children (and I'm already making rules for my future children), ate some yogurt, and finished by six page essay solely on the San Marzano tomato. I had to do a whole lot of embellishing to fill up six pages.
Now, I'm celebrating the Day of Rest. Praise God for his mercy by giving us a day dedicated to relaxing after a week of work.
Arrivederci!
Friday, November 19, 2010
To-Do's
I'm a firm believer in accountability.
I know my failings, and I know that healthy pressure from someone who loves me enough to push me towards the right direction is necessary for me.
I'm going to compile a list of things that are "must-do's" in Florence, and I'm going to need your friendly nudge to get them done before I leave (in a MONTH yesterday!).
1) Visit San Marco Convent.
2) Go to the Galileo Museum.
3) Santa Maria Novella Church.
4) Climb the Duomo.
5) Try out famous gelaterias: Vivoli, Perche No?
6) Orsanmichele.
7) Casa di Dante.
8) San Lorenzo Church.
9) Tempio Israelitico.
10) Palazzo Strozzi.
11) Hot Chocolate at either Gilli or Rivoire
12) Brancacci Chapel
I'm sure I'll add more as time goes on.
I've gotten to see numerous masterpieces in the past few days (Uffizi tour today and solo trip to Pitti Palace on Wednesday)...your brain gets to the point where it can no longer appreciate another painting. It's like when your computer is running too many programs and the bottom of it starts to warm on your lap and making that weird "oh-no-it's-taking-off" noise. My brain does a version of that.
So, I came back home and made pasta with a white wine, white truffle, and castarone cheese sauce. Ummm, I can't believe I actually made it. It was delicious. I worked on my research paper on the "San Marzano tomato" and decided to take a nap before I was to meet my friends from church to see Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Pt. 1.
I woke up with enough time to spare and sauntered over to the church...no one came. My internet hadn't been working so I thought they sent an email to cancel it. I took a lengthy stroll back home and made sure to look in the windows of all the jewelry shops on my way. There are these fantastic rosette earring that I drool over every day, but I know they're not worth the cost.
Turns out the Harry Potter movie gathering is TOMORROW at five. Tomorrow when I'll be on my way back from a day-trip to Orvieto. I'm going to either a) go solo during the day or b) recruit a friend for a weeknight showing. This is necessary.
Last night I went over to Sabs, Olivia, and Mere's apartment for dinner. I brought the bread and salad and Sabrina made delicious homemade manicotti. We chatted and laughed and then the girls, interior design majors, showed me their websites with their projects. Oh. my. gosh. Everything they do is so hands-on and they have to think about so many variables. They have to think so much for the other people's desires, needs, and if the design will actually function. But they get to use so much creativity as well. It was so cool to see the professional side of my friends...I'm positive that they'll be successful after they graduate. They are so prepared.
Today I've just tried to be productive. This includes deleting a lot of my junk mail and unsubscribing to wayyyy too many newsletters. Everything is hitting me with the Christmas consumer illness. All the pictures of snowmen and families hugging are giving my first taste of homesickness. I leave this place in less than a month, so my mind is preparing me for my departure. I'm looking forward to watching movies with my parents and chatting with my friends about our adventures and cooking with my sister. I almost miss the oppressive Christmas advertising of the U.S. I keep thinking, maybe they'll put up more Christmas displays after Thanksgiving, then I realize they don't celebrate that here.
No worries, ISA is throwing us a Thanksgiving dinner, so I'll get my fix. Then the next day I head to Germany! Whooppppp.
I'll miss my Mama's birthday on Wednesday. She's the only family member whose bday I'm missin'.
Well, off to bed decently soon because tomorrow is Orvieto!
Ciao ciao.
I know my failings, and I know that healthy pressure from someone who loves me enough to push me towards the right direction is necessary for me.
I'm going to compile a list of things that are "must-do's" in Florence, and I'm going to need your friendly nudge to get them done before I leave (in a MONTH yesterday!).
1) Visit San Marco Convent.
2) Go to the Galileo Museum.
3) Santa Maria Novella Church.
4) Climb the Duomo.
5) Try out famous gelaterias: Vivoli, Perche No?
6) Orsanmichele.
7) Casa di Dante.
8) San Lorenzo Church.
9) Tempio Israelitico.
10) Palazzo Strozzi.
11) Hot Chocolate at either Gilli or Rivoire
12) Brancacci Chapel
I'm sure I'll add more as time goes on.
I've gotten to see numerous masterpieces in the past few days (Uffizi tour today and solo trip to Pitti Palace on Wednesday)...your brain gets to the point where it can no longer appreciate another painting. It's like when your computer is running too many programs and the bottom of it starts to warm on your lap and making that weird "oh-no-it's-taking-off" noise. My brain does a version of that.
So, I came back home and made pasta with a white wine, white truffle, and castarone cheese sauce. Ummm, I can't believe I actually made it. It was delicious. I worked on my research paper on the "San Marzano tomato" and decided to take a nap before I was to meet my friends from church to see Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Pt. 1.
I woke up with enough time to spare and sauntered over to the church...no one came. My internet hadn't been working so I thought they sent an email to cancel it. I took a lengthy stroll back home and made sure to look in the windows of all the jewelry shops on my way. There are these fantastic rosette earring that I drool over every day, but I know they're not worth the cost.
Turns out the Harry Potter movie gathering is TOMORROW at five. Tomorrow when I'll be on my way back from a day-trip to Orvieto. I'm going to either a) go solo during the day or b) recruit a friend for a weeknight showing. This is necessary.
Last night I went over to Sabs, Olivia, and Mere's apartment for dinner. I brought the bread and salad and Sabrina made delicious homemade manicotti. We chatted and laughed and then the girls, interior design majors, showed me their websites with their projects. Oh. my. gosh. Everything they do is so hands-on and they have to think about so many variables. They have to think so much for the other people's desires, needs, and if the design will actually function. But they get to use so much creativity as well. It was so cool to see the professional side of my friends...I'm positive that they'll be successful after they graduate. They are so prepared.
Today I've just tried to be productive. This includes deleting a lot of my junk mail and unsubscribing to wayyyy too many newsletters. Everything is hitting me with the Christmas consumer illness. All the pictures of snowmen and families hugging are giving my first taste of homesickness. I leave this place in less than a month, so my mind is preparing me for my departure. I'm looking forward to watching movies with my parents and chatting with my friends about our adventures and cooking with my sister. I almost miss the oppressive Christmas advertising of the U.S. I keep thinking, maybe they'll put up more Christmas displays after Thanksgiving, then I realize they don't celebrate that here.
No worries, ISA is throwing us a Thanksgiving dinner, so I'll get my fix. Then the next day I head to Germany! Whooppppp.
I'll miss my Mama's birthday on Wednesday. She's the only family member whose bday I'm missin'.
Well, off to bed decently soon because tomorrow is Orvieto!
Ciao ciao.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Recipes, The David, Trufflez, and Opera
Everything in Florence is a celebration. With so much history in one city, how can there not be tradition? And every tradition sparks new, modern ones.
I'm currently uploading pictures I have taken over the last week.
Yes, that is grass around the Duomo to commemorate the miracle of San Zanobi.
Oh, and correct, that was the David Statue on the roof of the Cathedral that I saw on my way to see the real one at L'Accademia.
Parade off winged-creatures on stilts in the middle of the "Biennale Enogastronomica" market in Piazza della Repubblica? Why not?
I love the U.S., but I wish it wasn't discovered so late. Why can't we have saints' days? And ancient art?
These are the things I'll miss when I come back home.
Daddy wrote me an email today...it ended saying he was already sad I was going to miss Thanksgiving. Well, same here. My grandmother, Mama, makes her special dressing, and I could eat it plain year-round. That recipe's going in my new beautiful recipe journal.
I've been cooking up a STORM! Last week in class, it was foccacia. (Kiss-your-fingertips-and-say-Bellisime!-good.) Then, it was Olivia's birthday carrot cake. The next night, I made my own gnocchi-for-one from scratch (yes, from potatoes!). I had to play with the recipe a good bit to cut down portion size, but it came out excellently!
This weekend I stayed in Florence, but the timing couldn't have been better. I went to the culture and immigration conference at our school, which I loved because I'm a nerd like that and I like to learn. And then it was full of roaming around Florence's huge markets; the art market behind Palazzo Strozzi, the huge traditional Tuscan food market in Piazza della Repubblica, this season's new olive oil market in Piazza Santa Croce, and the huuuuuuuge antiques market in Piazza Santo Spirito across the river on the Oltrarno.
I could help myself. I bought a small bottle of freshly-pressed, extra-green, extra-virgin olive oil, some roasted nuts, some castarone cheese, a bottle of Vernaccia di San Gimignano that I've been wanting to try for FOREVER, and a jar of white truffles. Yay! I made a pasta sauce with it last night. Sooooooo gooooood. There's a truffle fair in San Miniato this weekend, and I MAY just have to go.
I went to the English speaking church with Jess on Saturday night, and we saw the opera "Carmen." I loved it. I want to opera all the time. It was a small venue, so it was very intimate. Their voices were incredible. I used to want to be an opera singer as a child, and the dream came back when I was there. My friend works at a theater, so I'm getting her to tell me the dress rehearsal times so I can watch fo' free.
Around this time of year, the city of Florence plays a game with a fake David statue. It was found on top of the Cathedral, where it was actually first intended to be displayed, but they thought it would not be appreciated from afar. Then, it was brought down in front of the Cathedral.
Last night, I was walking around the city when I heard drums coming from Piazza Signoria. I followed a huge crowd and found my way to the middle. An enormous procession of trumpeters, flag-throwers, torch holders, and drummers ushered the statue on a platform into the middle of the piazza. Every member of the crowd clapped and cheered. We watched with anticipation as the platform rotated and David's face stared into the eyes of the audience. The Florentines were so proud. And so was I. Even the mayor came down from his balcony, wearing his sash across his chest. He shook hands with the flag-throwers, and they did another number as the people roared. It was one of the coolest things I've experienced.
And today, I had a short presentation in class, ate an egg-roll for lunch (I miss Chinese food. badly.), went to cooking class, and made stuffed peppers. I've got a KILLER recipe. And I feel like I own this one. I'll make it for you, Mom and Dad, when I get home over break.
Since then, I've come home, done my homework, skyped with my sissy, listened to some good music (Sufjan's new album, some Phoenix, some Broken Social Scene), and watched an episode of Glee, my new guilty pleasure.
Ahh, now I'm off to read a bit before going to bed.
Oh! Ian McEwan is coming to Florence on Weds. night. Almost makes me want to miss aperitivo. What do you do when you want two things so badly?
I guess I'll sleep on it. Arrivederci!
I'm currently uploading pictures I have taken over the last week.
Yes, that is grass around the Duomo to commemorate the miracle of San Zanobi.
Oh, and correct, that was the David Statue on the roof of the Cathedral that I saw on my way to see the real one at L'Accademia.
Parade off winged-creatures on stilts in the middle of the "Biennale Enogastronomica" market in Piazza della Repubblica? Why not?
I love the U.S., but I wish it wasn't discovered so late. Why can't we have saints' days? And ancient art?
These are the things I'll miss when I come back home.
Daddy wrote me an email today...it ended saying he was already sad I was going to miss Thanksgiving. Well, same here. My grandmother, Mama, makes her special dressing, and I could eat it plain year-round. That recipe's going in my new beautiful recipe journal.
I've been cooking up a STORM! Last week in class, it was foccacia. (Kiss-your-fingertips-and-say-Bellisime!-good.) Then, it was Olivia's birthday carrot cake. The next night, I made my own gnocchi-for-one from scratch (yes, from potatoes!). I had to play with the recipe a good bit to cut down portion size, but it came out excellently!
This weekend I stayed in Florence, but the timing couldn't have been better. I went to the culture and immigration conference at our school, which I loved because I'm a nerd like that and I like to learn. And then it was full of roaming around Florence's huge markets; the art market behind Palazzo Strozzi, the huge traditional Tuscan food market in Piazza della Repubblica, this season's new olive oil market in Piazza Santa Croce, and the huuuuuuuge antiques market in Piazza Santo Spirito across the river on the Oltrarno.
I could help myself. I bought a small bottle of freshly-pressed, extra-green, extra-virgin olive oil, some roasted nuts, some castarone cheese, a bottle of Vernaccia di San Gimignano that I've been wanting to try for FOREVER, and a jar of white truffles. Yay! I made a pasta sauce with it last night. Sooooooo gooooood. There's a truffle fair in San Miniato this weekend, and I MAY just have to go.
I went to the English speaking church with Jess on Saturday night, and we saw the opera "Carmen." I loved it. I want to opera all the time. It was a small venue, so it was very intimate. Their voices were incredible. I used to want to be an opera singer as a child, and the dream came back when I was there. My friend works at a theater, so I'm getting her to tell me the dress rehearsal times so I can watch fo' free.
Around this time of year, the city of Florence plays a game with a fake David statue. It was found on top of the Cathedral, where it was actually first intended to be displayed, but they thought it would not be appreciated from afar. Then, it was brought down in front of the Cathedral.
Last night, I was walking around the city when I heard drums coming from Piazza Signoria. I followed a huge crowd and found my way to the middle. An enormous procession of trumpeters, flag-throwers, torch holders, and drummers ushered the statue on a platform into the middle of the piazza. Every member of the crowd clapped and cheered. We watched with anticipation as the platform rotated and David's face stared into the eyes of the audience. The Florentines were so proud. And so was I. Even the mayor came down from his balcony, wearing his sash across his chest. He shook hands with the flag-throwers, and they did another number as the people roared. It was one of the coolest things I've experienced.
And today, I had a short presentation in class, ate an egg-roll for lunch (I miss Chinese food. badly.), went to cooking class, and made stuffed peppers. I've got a KILLER recipe. And I feel like I own this one. I'll make it for you, Mom and Dad, when I get home over break.
Since then, I've come home, done my homework, skyped with my sissy, listened to some good music (Sufjan's new album, some Phoenix, some Broken Social Scene), and watched an episode of Glee, my new guilty pleasure.
Ahh, now I'm off to read a bit before going to bed.
Oh! Ian McEwan is coming to Florence on Weds. night. Almost makes me want to miss aperitivo. What do you do when you want two things so badly?
I guess I'll sleep on it. Arrivederci!
Friday, November 12, 2010
(Non-)Dating Advice.
It's funny who one meets just walking down the streets of Firenze.
Yesterday, I met Mohammed Ali. Yes, Mohammed Ali. That's what it says on his IDs.
This one's a boxer, too, but he's from Tunisia and is now studying cintematography.
"Firenze è una città bellissima."
"Si!" I smiled and nodded. This apparently gave him the go-ahead.
We talked about the documentary festival being shown at the local theater, Firenze, his family, my studies, my Italian. And then he asked for the number.
So, I'm terrible with this stuff. Horrible. It's so hard for me to turn someone down, even if I'm not interested.
Being aware of my people-pleaser mentality, I've come up with a few good excuses to have on the tip of your tongue at all times. I am the worst liar in the world, so I've ingrained these in my brain so I can avoid situations that will lead no where. Some of these are hand-me-downs from friends. I hope you can put these in your back pocket as well...just in case.:
"I have to put my focus on my studies now, and I barely have any free time. I'm flattered you asked, but it is just not possible for me."
"I'm busy now but maybe another time." (And then never answer your phone again.)
"Just got a new phone/different number because I'm out of the country. I don't remember my number! So sorry."
"Ooops, left my phone at home."
And my personal favorite: "I just started dating someone, but I'm flattered that you asked!" This is one guaranteed way that the unwanted male will stop pestering you. Men are territorial. If you're taken, you're no longer on their radar. Done.
Maybe Georgia boys have no balls (excuse me, American men in general), but it is a rare occasion when one is intentional about pursuing a girl or honest about his feelings. Why do they put so much pressure on a single date? If a man would just ask a female he's interested out for a drink or lunch, the woman would most likely be 1) impressed and 2) more than willing. I'll be honest, it's been quite a self-esteem booster to come to a different country where men ask me on dates regularly.
Yesterday Mohammed Ali asked me out, and I gave him the "I'm busy but maybe later" approach. Annoying thing is that he still has my number and the "block call" option does not seem to work. He's a really nice-seeming, lively person, but "I'm just not that into him."
This morning, I donned by black-and-white-striped shirt, vintage black and gold belt, black skirt, leggings, and my boots. I had to wake up early to go to the "Permit To Stay" meeting, where, four days before I leave, I will FINALLY receive a card allowing me to stay in the country...after a four month process. Italian bureaucracy. Enough said.
After that was the ISA tour of the Accademia, i.e., the home of the most magnificent sculpture ever created, Michaelangelo's David. The tour portion solely for David lasted almost an hour. It was fasccccinating.
While walking to the museum, a creepy Italian man looked at my boots and made some vulgar gesture. I flipped! I still don't know what it means but have been trying to find it on the internet. Maybe it's best not to know...
On my way home, I stopped by a huge outdoor market being held in Piazza della Repubblica. It's olive harvesting and crushing season, so I HAD to buy a small bottle of the nuovo extra-virgin olio. I also bought some roasted nuts, my FAVE. Checked off my Firenze bucket list.
Then, I went home, heated up leftover pasta, and watched an episode of 30 Rock. Dopo, I went to the Oltrarno, which is quickly becoming my favorite section of Florence. It's the less-touristy, artsy side of town. Oh, and it's cheaper. I found the Pasticeria Americana, Mama's Bakery. I bought a chocolate-chip cookie (IT'S BEEN MONTHS), a bagel for the morning, and sipped un cafe, American style.
I read a bit then decided to attend this conference on Emigration, Migration, and Immigration at our school. I was late to the meeting, but it's just a conference, right? Sono un idiota. I came into the room during the middle of a lecture, confused the speaker, and had to sit on the stairs. Ohhhhh well. The lectures were really interesting and I tried to be very attentive to make up for my earlier lack of respect.
I slipped right out afterwards, and two doors down there was this fascinating exhibit in a free art gallery. Perche no? I went in, and looked at the first piece of art. I made eye contact with a man passing by and recognized him from the conference. He turned around, came in the door, and introduced himself. He was actually one of the speakers, but I missed the lecture because I was late...I congratulated him anyways. He was funny, kind, and direct, which I especially enjoy in a person. He asked if we could have a drink, and I told him I had plans (I really do, Leyla and Jess and I have planned to try out a famous gelateria tonight!). We'll see each other tomorrow at the next set of lectures, though. My classmates should be there tomorrow, too, so that will help to give me a bit of security, haha. Yes, I really think this way.
I'm aware that I encouraged the male race to ask girls on dates, then gave a list of ways to reject guys. Well, use with caution. If you'll be in the same country as the other for more than two months, he does not seem like a criminal, and he could be someone you're interested in, then HELL YES ACCEPT THE INVITATION/DATE/FREE DINNER. The experience is worth it, and you'll make a new friend. It's easier to know who the quality ones are in your home country, so use your judgement and woman's intuition.
I'll get off my soapbox now. Ciao!
Yesterday, I met Mohammed Ali. Yes, Mohammed Ali. That's what it says on his IDs.
This one's a boxer, too, but he's from Tunisia and is now studying cintematography.
"Firenze è una città bellissima."
"Si!" I smiled and nodded. This apparently gave him the go-ahead.
We talked about the documentary festival being shown at the local theater, Firenze, his family, my studies, my Italian. And then he asked for the number.
So, I'm terrible with this stuff. Horrible. It's so hard for me to turn someone down, even if I'm not interested.
Being aware of my people-pleaser mentality, I've come up with a few good excuses to have on the tip of your tongue at all times. I am the worst liar in the world, so I've ingrained these in my brain so I can avoid situations that will lead no where. Some of these are hand-me-downs from friends. I hope you can put these in your back pocket as well...just in case.:
"I have to put my focus on my studies now, and I barely have any free time. I'm flattered you asked, but it is just not possible for me."
"I'm busy now but maybe another time." (And then never answer your phone again.)
"Just got a new phone/different number because I'm out of the country. I don't remember my number! So sorry."
"Ooops, left my phone at home."
And my personal favorite: "I just started dating someone, but I'm flattered that you asked!" This is one guaranteed way that the unwanted male will stop pestering you. Men are territorial. If you're taken, you're no longer on their radar. Done.
Maybe Georgia boys have no balls (excuse me, American men in general), but it is a rare occasion when one is intentional about pursuing a girl or honest about his feelings. Why do they put so much pressure on a single date? If a man would just ask a female he's interested out for a drink or lunch, the woman would most likely be 1) impressed and 2) more than willing. I'll be honest, it's been quite a self-esteem booster to come to a different country where men ask me on dates regularly.
Yesterday Mohammed Ali asked me out, and I gave him the "I'm busy but maybe later" approach. Annoying thing is that he still has my number and the "block call" option does not seem to work. He's a really nice-seeming, lively person, but "I'm just not that into him."
This morning, I donned by black-and-white-striped shirt, vintage black and gold belt, black skirt, leggings, and my boots. I had to wake up early to go to the "Permit To Stay" meeting, where, four days before I leave, I will FINALLY receive a card allowing me to stay in the country...after a four month process. Italian bureaucracy. Enough said.
After that was the ISA tour of the Accademia, i.e., the home of the most magnificent sculpture ever created, Michaelangelo's David. The tour portion solely for David lasted almost an hour. It was fasccccinating.
While walking to the museum, a creepy Italian man looked at my boots and made some vulgar gesture. I flipped! I still don't know what it means but have been trying to find it on the internet. Maybe it's best not to know...
On my way home, I stopped by a huge outdoor market being held in Piazza della Repubblica. It's olive harvesting and crushing season, so I HAD to buy a small bottle of the nuovo extra-virgin olio. I also bought some roasted nuts, my FAVE. Checked off my Firenze bucket list.
Then, I went home, heated up leftover pasta, and watched an episode of 30 Rock. Dopo, I went to the Oltrarno, which is quickly becoming my favorite section of Florence. It's the less-touristy, artsy side of town. Oh, and it's cheaper. I found the Pasticeria Americana, Mama's Bakery. I bought a chocolate-chip cookie (IT'S BEEN MONTHS), a bagel for the morning, and sipped un cafe, American style.
I read a bit then decided to attend this conference on Emigration, Migration, and Immigration at our school. I was late to the meeting, but it's just a conference, right? Sono un idiota. I came into the room during the middle of a lecture, confused the speaker, and had to sit on the stairs. Ohhhhh well. The lectures were really interesting and I tried to be very attentive to make up for my earlier lack of respect.
I slipped right out afterwards, and two doors down there was this fascinating exhibit in a free art gallery. Perche no? I went in, and looked at the first piece of art. I made eye contact with a man passing by and recognized him from the conference. He turned around, came in the door, and introduced himself. He was actually one of the speakers, but I missed the lecture because I was late...I congratulated him anyways. He was funny, kind, and direct, which I especially enjoy in a person. He asked if we could have a drink, and I told him I had plans (I really do, Leyla and Jess and I have planned to try out a famous gelateria tonight!). We'll see each other tomorrow at the next set of lectures, though. My classmates should be there tomorrow, too, so that will help to give me a bit of security, haha. Yes, I really think this way.
I'm aware that I encouraged the male race to ask girls on dates, then gave a list of ways to reject guys. Well, use with caution. If you'll be in the same country as the other for more than two months, he does not seem like a criminal, and he could be someone you're interested in, then HELL YES ACCEPT THE INVITATION/DATE/FREE DINNER. The experience is worth it, and you'll make a new friend. It's easier to know who the quality ones are in your home country, so use your judgement and woman's intuition.
I'll get off my soapbox now. Ciao!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Una Opera del Amore
Today, every minute has been occupied.
I woke up, ate breakfast, got ready, then headed to the store.
You see, it's one of my best friend's birthday's, and it was her request a few weeks ago that I make her a carrot cake. I have a recipe for one in my Italian cookbook, so of COURSE I wanted to show my love for her by this simple gesture.
My friend is Olivia, an interior design major from Kentucky. She's humble, compassionate, funny, has CRAZY stories that you would never respect (including her tendency to faint at inopportune times), and is the perfect balance of everything rolled into one.
I went to my favorite grocery store, Sapori & Tintori, and bought the ingredients...it's funny how many small things you have to collect! Eggs, unsalted butter, vanilla extract, lemon zest, flour type O, baking soda, nutmeg, a POUND of carrots, toasted almond, ...
Notice the ingredient baking soda. How does one say baking soda in Italian? Beats me! I had to ask for help from the sweet baker, and she told me that Italians use something that is more like a cube, but there is also a powder if I could find one. "It's on street two," she answered in English. "Oh, si! Grazie."
Street two.....I couldn't find it on aisle two, either. Sigh. I found a packet of something, brought it to her, and asked, "E corretto?"
"No, no, no! That's spices!" She laughed and shook her head. Good thing I double-checked! The butcher standing next to her said, "Oh, a Spice Girl!" I cracked up and said, "Oh no, not quite." He then escorted me to the baking soda. Whoop! In my possession.
I headed home and began to peel and grate the carrots before class. I read the recipe. "Line the pan with parchment paper...". Dang. Parchment paper. I didn't have time to pick it up, so I waited until after my Italian class.
I came home and went immediately to preparing the cake. I tried to put everything on one side of the counter so as to not to block my roommates from using the kitchen. Well, ingredients went EVERYWHERE.
I grated almost a pound of carrots. My hands were orange. And my arms? A little more sculpted, if I do say so myself.
I kept bringing the mixing bowl down to Leyla. "Does this look right?" "When should I add he eggs?" She kindly, patiently assisted me on every detail.
The recipe gave enough batter to make two cakes, and we only have ONE small toaster oven. Hmm...I guess I'll just shove them BOTH in there! This was not the best idea I've ever had. One was smashed by the oven door, the other browned faster because it was in the back. Ohhhh well. The end product was cooked well, and even though they looked a little deformed, they tasted just right! Leyla suggested we layer the cakes and ice them (this also solves the problem of their deformities!). Off to the store to buy confectioner's sugar and cream cheese to make icing!
Jess came with me this time, and she is the icing master. You've never seen such delicate finesse with an icing knife. Of course, maybe except from Katie Gamble. I kept wondering what I could learn from watching Katie perfectly bake her wonderfully round, delicious cakes. Yay for my next chef roomie!
Turns out that Italian supermarkets don't normally sell powdered sugar. So, we grabbed something off the shelf of the cake section...turns out it's pretty much regular sugar and fake cream. Well, it went into the cream cheese, we melted some butter, whipped it all together, and VOILA! Next, iced the layers of the cake. At 7:24, we realized we were supposed to meet everyone for Olivia's birthday dinner at 7:30! I handed the knife to Jess and let her quickly touch up the cake. We flipped another pie tin over the top and ran out the door.
Dinner was fabulous. We went to a mexican restaurant called Tijuana (TJ, if you love the OC as much as I once did...) and ate NACHOS! Delizioso. There was a cover-charge for eating the cake in the restaurant, so we passed. Seriously, Florence? SERIOUSLY?! Can't a person celebrate their birthday? Instead of charging us, why don't you give us a discount because it's the girl's big day? Yeah. Thank you.
Anyway, we headed to our favorite pub, sang to Olivia, and cut the cake. A man came by with roses and sweet Leyla bought one for Olivia. The man tried to short change her, but she stood her ground and made sure he indeed gave her the correct change. After chatting for a while, we gave hugs and promised to meet tomorrow night at aperitivo at Ganzo. I'm really going to miss that in the States. It's our cheap, delicious excuse for having a guaranteed hang out with friends. Maybe I'll start one up at the Hardin house when I get back.
Today, I had one of those "it's hitting me" moments. I was walking back from the grocery store, listening to Broken Social Scene's "All To All" (which is one of my favorite songs ever), and stopped before I walked up to my little door. I'm leaving this soon. When I'm older, I'll tell my children about my time here, but I'll never LIVE here again. I started to tear up, but I decided to just enjoy the end of the walk to my apartment.
I love this place. Living here has finally felt like really living here. I adore my roommates and really feel like I know them. I've gotten to the point where I can genuinely say I will look back and miss laughing, singing, cooking with them.
All this to say that I'm going to soak everything up. I love this transitory place in life, and my duty is to keep finding its treasures while I have time here.
I hope you all look at where you are in the same way. You'll only be in this phase of your life in the present, so take it in for what it can be. And if you're complacent, change that.
Bedtime now, I guess. Goodnight my dears.
I woke up, ate breakfast, got ready, then headed to the store.
You see, it's one of my best friend's birthday's, and it was her request a few weeks ago that I make her a carrot cake. I have a recipe for one in my Italian cookbook, so of COURSE I wanted to show my love for her by this simple gesture.
My friend is Olivia, an interior design major from Kentucky. She's humble, compassionate, funny, has CRAZY stories that you would never respect (including her tendency to faint at inopportune times), and is the perfect balance of everything rolled into one.
I went to my favorite grocery store, Sapori & Tintori, and bought the ingredients...it's funny how many small things you have to collect! Eggs, unsalted butter, vanilla extract, lemon zest, flour type O, baking soda, nutmeg, a POUND of carrots, toasted almond, ...
Notice the ingredient baking soda. How does one say baking soda in Italian? Beats me! I had to ask for help from the sweet baker, and she told me that Italians use something that is more like a cube, but there is also a powder if I could find one. "It's on street two," she answered in English. "Oh, si! Grazie."
Street two.....I couldn't find it on aisle two, either. Sigh. I found a packet of something, brought it to her, and asked, "E corretto?"
"No, no, no! That's spices!" She laughed and shook her head. Good thing I double-checked! The butcher standing next to her said, "Oh, a Spice Girl!" I cracked up and said, "Oh no, not quite." He then escorted me to the baking soda. Whoop! In my possession.
I headed home and began to peel and grate the carrots before class. I read the recipe. "Line the pan with parchment paper...". Dang. Parchment paper. I didn't have time to pick it up, so I waited until after my Italian class.
I came home and went immediately to preparing the cake. I tried to put everything on one side of the counter so as to not to block my roommates from using the kitchen. Well, ingredients went EVERYWHERE.
I grated almost a pound of carrots. My hands were orange. And my arms? A little more sculpted, if I do say so myself.
I kept bringing the mixing bowl down to Leyla. "Does this look right?" "When should I add he eggs?" She kindly, patiently assisted me on every detail.
The recipe gave enough batter to make two cakes, and we only have ONE small toaster oven. Hmm...I guess I'll just shove them BOTH in there! This was not the best idea I've ever had. One was smashed by the oven door, the other browned faster because it was in the back. Ohhhh well. The end product was cooked well, and even though they looked a little deformed, they tasted just right! Leyla suggested we layer the cakes and ice them (this also solves the problem of their deformities!). Off to the store to buy confectioner's sugar and cream cheese to make icing!
Jess came with me this time, and she is the icing master. You've never seen such delicate finesse with an icing knife. Of course, maybe except from Katie Gamble. I kept wondering what I could learn from watching Katie perfectly bake her wonderfully round, delicious cakes. Yay for my next chef roomie!
Turns out that Italian supermarkets don't normally sell powdered sugar. So, we grabbed something off the shelf of the cake section...turns out it's pretty much regular sugar and fake cream. Well, it went into the cream cheese, we melted some butter, whipped it all together, and VOILA! Next, iced the layers of the cake. At 7:24, we realized we were supposed to meet everyone for Olivia's birthday dinner at 7:30! I handed the knife to Jess and let her quickly touch up the cake. We flipped another pie tin over the top and ran out the door.
Dinner was fabulous. We went to a mexican restaurant called Tijuana (TJ, if you love the OC as much as I once did...) and ate NACHOS! Delizioso. There was a cover-charge for eating the cake in the restaurant, so we passed. Seriously, Florence? SERIOUSLY?! Can't a person celebrate their birthday? Instead of charging us, why don't you give us a discount because it's the girl's big day? Yeah. Thank you.
Anyway, we headed to our favorite pub, sang to Olivia, and cut the cake. A man came by with roses and sweet Leyla bought one for Olivia. The man tried to short change her, but she stood her ground and made sure he indeed gave her the correct change. After chatting for a while, we gave hugs and promised to meet tomorrow night at aperitivo at Ganzo. I'm really going to miss that in the States. It's our cheap, delicious excuse for having a guaranteed hang out with friends. Maybe I'll start one up at the Hardin house when I get back.
Today, I had one of those "it's hitting me" moments. I was walking back from the grocery store, listening to Broken Social Scene's "All To All" (which is one of my favorite songs ever), and stopped before I walked up to my little door. I'm leaving this soon. When I'm older, I'll tell my children about my time here, but I'll never LIVE here again. I started to tear up, but I decided to just enjoy the end of the walk to my apartment.
I love this place. Living here has finally felt like really living here. I adore my roommates and really feel like I know them. I've gotten to the point where I can genuinely say I will look back and miss laughing, singing, cooking with them.
All this to say that I'm going to soak everything up. I love this transitory place in life, and my duty is to keep finding its treasures while I have time here.
I hope you all look at where you are in the same way. You'll only be in this phase of your life in the present, so take it in for what it can be. And if you're complacent, change that.
Bedtime now, I guess. Goodnight my dears.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Back! From Barcelona, from Milano, from the Fiorentina Game.
I'm back!
How unlike me is it to not post for two weeks?
Forgive me for my hiatus. I'm been EVERYWHERE for the past two weeks, and I can't wait to share.
I left last Wednesday for Pisa and took a plane to Girona, a city an hour outside of Barcelona. My flight cost only SEVEN EUROS! So, I was willing to make the trek alone and stay alone in a hostel in a country where I didn't speak the language.
I made it safely, then went off to look for my hostel...in the dark. Girona's streets are poorly marked, so I frustratedly ran around the town for about thirty minutes. There were a group of people on their balcony across the street, and they could tell I was lost. It was late, dark, and I was a lone American. "Parlez-vous français?" "No....English." The next thing I knew, a Frenchman ran down the stairs and across the street to my aid. We used English, French, and Spanish to find out where my hostel was. I gave a "gracias!" then headed to the hostel.
It was clean and cozy, and I decided to explore Girona a bit more. At night, everything was beautifully lit and the stone, Medieval buildings tower over you. It was so impressive.
The next morning I woke up, got my free breakfast of cocoa krispies and tea, and headed to meet Garrett in Barcelona.
He flight was delayed, but we finally met up back at the hostel and decided to take it easy the first day. We both took naps then decided to hit the University center of town and search for a restaurant. We caught up and walked in any direction we desired before finding a tapas bar for dinner. We chose mainly seafood and had great conversation.
The next morning, we ate a big, warm breakfast and headed to the station to meet Alece. We missed our stop and watched out the window as Alece sat on a bench by herself, straining her neck to find her friends.
Alece and I have bonded. We often call ourselves "travel buddies," and love hanging out together. In fact, we've known each other for less than two weeks but have passed a stranger's "best friend test." I'd share it, but I'll have to do it in person so as not to spoil the trick. We were tested last night by a Florentine engineer we met on the train from Pisa to Florence. He was...interesting. He leaned over to us and said, "May I ask you a question?" Alece and I nodded. "Would you date a guy who was still friends with his ex-girlfriend?" This developed into a 30 minute conversation about dating, the differences between men and women, and even immigration. Oh, the people you meet while traveling.
Back to Barcelona. I'll spare all of the details, and I'll suggest you look at my pictures for specifics. We checked out a lot of the modernist architecture of Gaudi...everything his created defies expectations and is so passionate...it's aesthetically pleasing, mesmerizing, really, but is also functional.
We went to the coast and found a cute little market for antiques, jewelry, and art. I stepped up and decided to buy my first piece of art! It's odd. I guess you can say I was inspired by the expressionism of the city. It's pink, has an old-fashioned espresso maker, and has words in different languages written across it. I've decided to start my own little collection. Soon I'll buy one of the Ponte Vecchio to take home; I'm already scouting out artists on the street.
To experience the Spanish culture, we decided to attend a short concert with Spanish guitar, singing, and Flamenco dancing. Oh it was lovely! The dancers alternate smooth, sensual moves with tight, emphatic ones, and they stomp to the music with their feet and clap their hands. It was a delight to watch. The next night, we went to the jazz bar next door to the Flamenco club, and we watched Italians play and sing the blues. I smiled at the Italian accent that peaked out from an attempt at a southern drawl. The concert was lively and even a sweet taste of home. The music was great, too! "I got my mojo workin'..."
A highlight of my trip was finally getting to have lunch with my friend from high school, Jennifer, who is studying in Barcelona. She was so kind and toured us around, and we laughed and talked about home and about how studying abroad is such an enriching, strange experience. Her family comes soon, and I was her sister's intern this summer, so I'm so excited to hear about their time together. They are such sweet, loving, generous girls.
So, fast-forward to THIS weekend. It's Sunday night, I just ate a stir-fry dinner, and I'm sitting down to work on a presentation on "The private life of the Renaissance family" for my history class tomorrow. Today we went to a rainy yet explosive calcio (soccer, European football) match against Verona's Chiavo team. I loved the exhibition of Florentine pride...purple everywhere, flags waving even through tired arms, yelling and chanting their song. We won, too!
It rained, and because we weren't allowed to bring umbrellas into the arena, I had to use a magazine as a makeshift hat. The walk was forty minutes back to my apartment, and I had to go to the grocery store as well. The "hat" absorbed so much water that it broke apart, and when I returned home, I realized it had left black ink residue on my forehead. I was still completely soaked. Hopefully I don't get sick again after my trek in the cold rain!
LAST night consisted of a five and a half hours of train travel from Milan and finally arriving back in Florence at midnight. I worked on schoolwork, read, and chatted with Alece and fellow travelers on the way back.
Our weekend in Milan was fantastic! I love the city, although it is very much metropolitan rather than the stereotypically charming, inviting Italian village. A lot was destroyed in the war, but there is still a castle, a few palaces, and of course the famous Duomo of Milan. It's breathtaking...the facade is the first thing you see when you get off the metro. It's free to get in, and the stained-glass windows were huge and amazinggggggg.
We met two guys at our hostel at breakfast, and we invited them to come along with us for our day of sightseeing. Charlie was from Northern Ireland, and he convinced his friend Tommy from England to travel in Italy with him. They were hilarious. We made jokes about American stereotypes and had a friendly competition about America versus the European Union. This included a game of Trivial Pursuit, which lasted until 2:30 in the morning, but Alece and I won! The bragging rights were worth the lack of sleep.
Other than that, we traveled all around Milan, had an inexpensive aperitivo buffet near the canals, and met interesting people. It was great to be with Garrett in his city, of course. We went to the shopping district and found a "discount outlet." Yeah, right. Everything was still hundreds of dollars. Thanks but NO THANKS.
The highlight of this trip was the Salvador Dali exhibit. He was a surrealist, so his stuff was a little crazy. Probably the craziest art exhibition I've ever seen. I soaked up every bit I could. Just look at some of his stuff. Really. I can't describe it. Some of it was too overwhelming, and I just thought, "I guess here's where the art for art's sake philosophy comes in." But then there were documentaries playing in side rooms, and the interviews of him were hilarious. He has this curled up little mustache, is Spanish but speaks decent English, and refers to himself in the third person. He talks about how he is the best artist of the time simply because there are no other good artists, and goes on a schpeal about his love of money. Anyway, I'd go again in a heartbeat.
Here's a Disney cartoon he made. Odd but spellbinding:
Enjoy!
Well, I'm off to skype my parents.
Arrivederci!
How unlike me is it to not post for two weeks?
Forgive me for my hiatus. I'm been EVERYWHERE for the past two weeks, and I can't wait to share.
I left last Wednesday for Pisa and took a plane to Girona, a city an hour outside of Barcelona. My flight cost only SEVEN EUROS! So, I was willing to make the trek alone and stay alone in a hostel in a country where I didn't speak the language.
I made it safely, then went off to look for my hostel...in the dark. Girona's streets are poorly marked, so I frustratedly ran around the town for about thirty minutes. There were a group of people on their balcony across the street, and they could tell I was lost. It was late, dark, and I was a lone American. "Parlez-vous français?" "No....English." The next thing I knew, a Frenchman ran down the stairs and across the street to my aid. We used English, French, and Spanish to find out where my hostel was. I gave a "gracias!" then headed to the hostel.
It was clean and cozy, and I decided to explore Girona a bit more. At night, everything was beautifully lit and the stone, Medieval buildings tower over you. It was so impressive.
The next morning I woke up, got my free breakfast of cocoa krispies and tea, and headed to meet Garrett in Barcelona.
He flight was delayed, but we finally met up back at the hostel and decided to take it easy the first day. We both took naps then decided to hit the University center of town and search for a restaurant. We caught up and walked in any direction we desired before finding a tapas bar for dinner. We chose mainly seafood and had great conversation.
The next morning, we ate a big, warm breakfast and headed to the station to meet Alece. We missed our stop and watched out the window as Alece sat on a bench by herself, straining her neck to find her friends.
Alece and I have bonded. We often call ourselves "travel buddies," and love hanging out together. In fact, we've known each other for less than two weeks but have passed a stranger's "best friend test." I'd share it, but I'll have to do it in person so as not to spoil the trick. We were tested last night by a Florentine engineer we met on the train from Pisa to Florence. He was...interesting. He leaned over to us and said, "May I ask you a question?" Alece and I nodded. "Would you date a guy who was still friends with his ex-girlfriend?" This developed into a 30 minute conversation about dating, the differences between men and women, and even immigration. Oh, the people you meet while traveling.
Back to Barcelona. I'll spare all of the details, and I'll suggest you look at my pictures for specifics. We checked out a lot of the modernist architecture of Gaudi...everything his created defies expectations and is so passionate...it's aesthetically pleasing, mesmerizing, really, but is also functional.
We went to the coast and found a cute little market for antiques, jewelry, and art. I stepped up and decided to buy my first piece of art! It's odd. I guess you can say I was inspired by the expressionism of the city. It's pink, has an old-fashioned espresso maker, and has words in different languages written across it. I've decided to start my own little collection. Soon I'll buy one of the Ponte Vecchio to take home; I'm already scouting out artists on the street.
To experience the Spanish culture, we decided to attend a short concert with Spanish guitar, singing, and Flamenco dancing. Oh it was lovely! The dancers alternate smooth, sensual moves with tight, emphatic ones, and they stomp to the music with their feet and clap their hands. It was a delight to watch. The next night, we went to the jazz bar next door to the Flamenco club, and we watched Italians play and sing the blues. I smiled at the Italian accent that peaked out from an attempt at a southern drawl. The concert was lively and even a sweet taste of home. The music was great, too! "I got my mojo workin'..."
A highlight of my trip was finally getting to have lunch with my friend from high school, Jennifer, who is studying in Barcelona. She was so kind and toured us around, and we laughed and talked about home and about how studying abroad is such an enriching, strange experience. Her family comes soon, and I was her sister's intern this summer, so I'm so excited to hear about their time together. They are such sweet, loving, generous girls.
So, fast-forward to THIS weekend. It's Sunday night, I just ate a stir-fry dinner, and I'm sitting down to work on a presentation on "The private life of the Renaissance family" for my history class tomorrow. Today we went to a rainy yet explosive calcio (soccer, European football) match against Verona's Chiavo team. I loved the exhibition of Florentine pride...purple everywhere, flags waving even through tired arms, yelling and chanting their song. We won, too!
It rained, and because we weren't allowed to bring umbrellas into the arena, I had to use a magazine as a makeshift hat. The walk was forty minutes back to my apartment, and I had to go to the grocery store as well. The "hat" absorbed so much water that it broke apart, and when I returned home, I realized it had left black ink residue on my forehead. I was still completely soaked. Hopefully I don't get sick again after my trek in the cold rain!
LAST night consisted of a five and a half hours of train travel from Milan and finally arriving back in Florence at midnight. I worked on schoolwork, read, and chatted with Alece and fellow travelers on the way back.
Our weekend in Milan was fantastic! I love the city, although it is very much metropolitan rather than the stereotypically charming, inviting Italian village. A lot was destroyed in the war, but there is still a castle, a few palaces, and of course the famous Duomo of Milan. It's breathtaking...the facade is the first thing you see when you get off the metro. It's free to get in, and the stained-glass windows were huge and amazinggggggg.
We met two guys at our hostel at breakfast, and we invited them to come along with us for our day of sightseeing. Charlie was from Northern Ireland, and he convinced his friend Tommy from England to travel in Italy with him. They were hilarious. We made jokes about American stereotypes and had a friendly competition about America versus the European Union. This included a game of Trivial Pursuit, which lasted until 2:30 in the morning, but Alece and I won! The bragging rights were worth the lack of sleep.
Other than that, we traveled all around Milan, had an inexpensive aperitivo buffet near the canals, and met interesting people. It was great to be with Garrett in his city, of course. We went to the shopping district and found a "discount outlet." Yeah, right. Everything was still hundreds of dollars. Thanks but NO THANKS.
The highlight of this trip was the Salvador Dali exhibit. He was a surrealist, so his stuff was a little crazy. Probably the craziest art exhibition I've ever seen. I soaked up every bit I could. Just look at some of his stuff. Really. I can't describe it. Some of it was too overwhelming, and I just thought, "I guess here's where the art for art's sake philosophy comes in." But then there were documentaries playing in side rooms, and the interviews of him were hilarious. He has this curled up little mustache, is Spanish but speaks decent English, and refers to himself in the third person. He talks about how he is the best artist of the time simply because there are no other good artists, and goes on a schpeal about his love of money. Anyway, I'd go again in a heartbeat.
Here's a Disney cartoon he made. Odd but spellbinding:
Enjoy!
Well, I'm off to skype my parents.
Arrivederci!
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