Dimmi Tutto!

The title above is one of my favorite expressions here in Italy.  The Italians use these great expressions for certain sentiments.  For example, when they answer the phone, you'd think they'd just say "ciao," the equivalent of "hello."  But no.  They say "pronto!" which translates to "ready!"  Hearing Italians say this when they answer the phone puts a lot of pressure on me as a caller, seeing as they've just given me a verbal cue that they're attentive and prepared to listen to whatever I have to say, I feel like I'd better have something pretty damn important to say.  Another expression I'm fond of is "dimmi tutto!"  An example of how it's used: for instance, when you approach a person with a question, such as a professor, a friend, or a waiter at a restaurant, you'd say "excuse me, Professor Jones?" or "excuse me, sir?"  And in the United States, the person approached might say, "what's up?" or "how can I help you?" or "yes?" In Italy, they say "dimmi tutto!" which translates to "tell me everything!" I wonder if anyone has ever taken this expression literally.  Bet that professor had wished he had chosen his words a bit more carefully...

I guess what made this expression pop into my head is the fact that I haven't been updating very faithfully this week, so I guess it's going to be difficult for me to be able to remember tutto, but I promise I'll try my best.  It's easy to let the updates fall by the wayside seeing as there's always much to do here.  But as an aspiring writer, I should probably take advantage of this brief time period in my life where I have such a captive audience willing to read my little rants, even if y'all are comprised solely of family members and close friends.  It still makes me feel cool, so I'll keep at it for a few more weeks. :)  

Allora, (another Italian word I love!  You can basically use this melodic little word in any situation; its meanings seem to be infinite.  Allora can mean anything from "well then," to "now," to "so," to "in that case," to "therefore," "anyway," etc. etc.  So the next time any of you are lunching with an Italian and find a lull in the conversation, I'd recommend throwing in a hearty allora; it'll never steer you wrong) God, my parentheses are often so long that I forget what I was saying before.  Let me start over.  Allora, for this post, we'll just stick with the highlights of the past week.  

Sunday at Viareggio: in honor of the Italian month-long celebration of Carnevale (yes, Italians have managed to stretch the event of Mardi Gras into a month-long celebration), we took the train to a beach town called Viareggio where they have a Carnevale party every Sunday.  We dressed up as best we could, layering colorful clothes and donning tacky crowns we bought from the One-Euro Shop (which I can't seem to stop calling the Dollar Tree).  The real Italians were all decked-out in all kinds of great costumes, as Carnevale is basically Italy's equivalent of Halloween.  We spent a really great day in Viareggio, soaking in the sunshine and strolling along the beach.  It was one of those false-spring days that makes you forget it's the middle of winter as you feel the warmth of the summery sunshine.  We returned pink-cheeked and went to a really good Greek place for dinner.  Overall, a good day!

Monday: What the hell did I do on Monday?  I don't even remember.  Proof, I suppose, that not all days abroad are red-letter.  Let's just assume that I did something so terribly exciting that I was completely overwhelmed with enthusiasm and rendered delirious, causing the memory to escape me completely.

Volunteering Tuesday:  The highlight of Tuesday was definitely volunteering at the women's shelter, a little tradition that's become one of my favorite activities here.  Gabri was in full form, wild as usual, and I made the huge mistake of teaching him and Mari "Cowboys."  Gabri is not exactly a thin child, so it definitely required a lot of leg strength to simulate the line "this is the way the cowboys ride" for Gabri, but he loved it and, as expected, wanted to repeat the process about every 5 minutes.  Luckily, I've mastered the phrase "last time" in Italian, a useful expression when it comes to Cowboys.  Valerio (the 12-year-old boy who lives there) and I had planned on playing soccer at the park Tuesday, but the rain rendered it impossible.  He wasn't too disappointed, as he had just purchased a slingshot for 6 euro and was far more interested in finding ways to inconspicuously shoot his fellow residents than in playing soccer.  Luckily his grandma made him get started on his homework, so the sling-shooting gradually subsided.  He needed help with his English homework, and for the first time since I've been here I was actually able to speak to an Italian and be grammatically correct at the same time.  Never mind that we were speaking in English. 

Any Old Wednesday: Had a fairly normal Wednesday afternoon; went for the usual run, went to the park to do some leisurely reading, etc.   Wednesday night was a typical Sam's festa; this time they had an American DJ who played some fun oldies songs.  Alessandro let me work behind the bar, so that made me feel ultra cool.

*Quick sidenote: I'm going to take a dinner break.  Looks like it's going to be a tuna and onion salad again.  Meat is expensive here in Italy, so I eat a lot of canned tuna to get my protein in.  And lord almighty, the onions.  Bought a bag of onions, figuring they'd last me quite a while.  For one of our dinners where we had the class over, my roommate asked if she could use my onions, and I figured she needed all of them.  I neglected to check the fridge before buying another bag of onions the next day to replace the ones my roommate had supposedly used.  Turns out she had only needed half an onion, so I was left with two huge bags of onions.  Thus, I've consumed more onions in the past month and a half than I have in my entire life.  Onions in my eggs, onions in my tuna, onions in my pasta sauce, onions with my chicken, plain old onions sauteed...I haven't reached the point of adding them to my cereal, but if I don't start making a dent in the next few weeks who knows...

Back from the dinner break.  Have onion breath again.  On to the next day.

Thursday--Cappelli e Calcio: My hair's been getting too long to manage here seeing as American straighteners and blow dryers don't function here, even with our adaptors, so I decided to chop it off.  It was a bit difficult to explain to the hairdresser, Salvadore, how I wanted my cappelli cut seeing as he spoke no English, but he did a really good job. He cut it a lot shorter than I had originally wanted, but after staring at myself in the mirror in shock for a few minutes he convinced me that it was molto carina, or cute.  I guess it was my fault for enthusiastically responding "si!" when he asked if he could cut it "come mi piacerebbe," or how he would like it.  But after the initial shock wore off, I've actually started to like it a lot.  Thanks, Salvadore!  After the big cut we headed off to our first Italian calcio, or soccer game!  It was Fiorentina vs. Ajax, Amersterdam's team.  Throughout the day we saw various groups of Ajax and Fiorentina fans drunkenly yelling out all kinds of cheers.  Martina and I tried to learn one, but all I remember was that it consisted of a lot of yelling different words that rhyme with tre, or three.  Who knows.  I think the teachers of our cheer were pretty drunk.  The game was absolutely insane.  At one point a fight broke out, at which a huge wave of fans ran towards the back of the stadium to witness and join the fight, but plenty of carabieneri were armed with their sticks to stop the madness.  In an Italian soccer stadium, there's not a visitor's section for fans from the other team.  There's a visitor's cage.  The visitor's section is literally encased in thick glass, with doors to let the fans out after the game.  This is no friendly Holy Bowl competition where the Jesuit kids and CB kids are free to roam both sides of the stadium.  This is war, and the enemy is kept where you can see 'em.  Italians take their calcio very, very seriously.  It was a close game, but Fiorentina ended up losing 1-0.  It was a sad thing, but we still went out after to celebrate; after all, we deserved a reward for surviving an Italian soccer game.

Friday--A Roman Reunion: There's a place about two hours from Florence called Abetone where people here go to ski, so my classmates had planned on going down there last Saturday for a ski trip.  The week before had been pretty crummy for skiing; apparently it was all ice.  So last week we hoped and hoped for snow, but no luck.  We were bummed, but luckily I had a nice alternative: Friday, the S.W.T.C.S. arrived in Roma!  I decided to hop on a train and meet the 6 lovely ladies in Rome for a much-needed weekend with my mama.  I was so happy to see everyone, and my mom and I shared a very tearful and very joyful reunion.  When I got there, the S.W.T.C.S. was a bit tired, as they had just arrived that morning and had been up for over 24 hours what with all their traveling.  But they were troupers and managed to stay awake all afternoon.  It felt really surreal to see such familiar faces in my little Italian world, and it was really wonderful to see everyone.  We had a relaxing night (a.k.a. they were all passed out by 7 p.m.), which was good for our full day of sightseeing on Saturday.

Saturday with the S.W.T.C.S.:  True to form, Auntie Sharon had mapped out the day's activities for us.  Saturday was a trip to Ostia Antica, a town outside of Rome with really awesome ruins.  Luckily the weather was great, and after the ladies mastered the mysterious art of the Metro and train system with a little help from yours truly, we got there without a hitch.  (I realized as the day went on that I had become the new authority on All Things Italian.  I was happy to answer any and all questions, but I found certain questions such as "Caity, in this Italian commercial that I saw on the subway this morning, why was their a frog handing out money?" and "Caity, why is this one specific newsstand closed today?" a little difficult to answer.)  We walked around the ruins, stopping often for pictures.  Auntie Kathy deemed me the tour guide, so instead of the proverbial umbrella I'd wave my water bottle or the Rick Steve's book above my head.  I had a lot of fun with the S.W.T.C.S., and it was really comforting to be with everyone from home.  That night we met up with Ersilia and Bruno again, and Ersilia insisted upon having everyone over to her apartment for dinner, where she prepared (from scratch) a dinner of fettucine, miniature paninis, breaded pork chops, vegetables, and apple torta for dessert.  As usual, she modestly told us that she wouldn't be offended if we didn't like what she made, but of course everything was fantastic.  We had a really nice time with them, and with Bruno and I on Team Translators everyone was able to communicate really well.  I'm looking forward to meeting up with the whole gang again on Wednesday.

Home Again Sunday: We slept in Sunday and I left the S.W.T.C.S. to fend for themselves after lunch, leaving them to complete Auntie Sharon's itinerary of the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Spanish Steps, and the Trevi Fountain.  Luckily I managed to make a quick escape from the hotel without the employees ever wising up to the fact that I had been a stowaway for the weekend.  In Italy, the hotels are really strict about the number of people in your hotel room.  If you say two people are staying in a room and a third person is found crashing on the floor (as I was in this case), you run the risk of being kicked out of the hotel.  It was a very covert operation, (in my opinion overly covert at times, as I don't think the employees were paying as close attention to my comings and goings as the S.W.T.C.S. seemed to believe), but better safe than sorry I suppose.  After my quick escape I took the train back home to Florence.  Sunday was my friend Martina's birthday, so a few of us went out to dinner at this really small, cozy trattoria to celebrate.  Earlier that day while Martina was out her boyfriend Nick and I tried to get a violinist we found on the street to come to dinner with us and play with her, but he only spoke Romanian and kept repeating "grazie, grazie" in response to our requests and animated body language.  But even without the violinist, I think Martina had a good time.

Monday: Back to Monday again!  Went to class, read a bit, went for a run, and then Martina and I went for a bike ride.  My first time on a bike since December!  It felt good to ride around, and we found a really big park that's down the Arno a ways that should be a great location for future soccer games.  It was a little cloudy today, but really warm outside so we had a good time.  Then I came home and did some homework, which was actually kind of fun and no, I'm not being sarcastic.  Favorite Teacher Michela always gives us cool assignments.  For instance, tomorrow we're presenting the papers we wrote about our hometowns, so I'm excited to bring Sactown to Firenzetown.  Our assignment for this week is to write a recipe from our home country.  I was able to dig deep into my well of culinary knowledge and decided to translate the recipe for a very refined and complicated dish: s'mores.  

Allora, tutti, I'm all blogged out.  I promise I'm going to try to blog a little more frequently so each entry isn't a freakin' tome, and that way I'll be able to dimmi tutto!

Auguri e cent'anni,

Caity

O Sole Mio!

Buon giorno tutti!  I'm happy to report that I'm currently looking out the window, and nothing but blue skies do I see.  This past week has been a phenomenon from my experience here in Florence, for there have been FOUR clear, sunny days in a row.  This sunny streak currently holds the record for most sunny days in a row since I've been here, so I'd better not say much more about it in fear I'll jinx it.

I left off Tuesday telling you all about the women's center, and I'm happy to report that I had a great experience there.  As soon as we walked inside we met a woman holding an adorable 2-month-old baby whose name was Saba.  You all know that I'm not really a huge fan of kids or babies, so when she offered him to me I rolled my eyes a little bit and accepted him grudgingly. What a pain it was to hold him, rock him, sing to him, talk to him, give him my finger so he could wrap his tiny little hand around it...only joking of course.   I was thrilled that there was an itty-bitty little baby to hold!  I haven't held a baby that little since Charley was a wee one, and I definitely had to hide my disappointment when his mom came back to take him to go run errands.

Luckily there were a few other kids there on Tuesday to keep us busy, and they definitely kept us busy.  There's Gabri, a chubby little 5-year-old who is most certainly un mostro, and Mari, a beautiful 7-year-old girl who's as sweet as they come but can also turn into a bit of a little mostra herself under the influence of Gabri.  They were very fond of games of the varieties that included them running around the hallways as much as possible, screaming at the top of their lungs, and making farting noises.  However, after we introduced "The Silent Game" to them they were a lot more manageable.  There was also some older kids there, including 15-year-old Napoleon and 12-year-old Valerio.  I especially liked Valerio because he reminded me of my seventh graders back at St. Ignatius.  He told me that he loves playing soccer and that he plays goalie like I used to, so he took out his ball and started taking shots off each other in the huge rec room.  This proved to be a terrible idea as the echoes of the ball slamming into the walls and cupboards reverberated throughout the room, so we agreed to find a park to play at next Tuesday.  

We were also able to talk to all their mothers a bit, most of whom have lived in Italy for a few years and are still learning the language and trying to get back on their feet.  Unfortunately the calls of "Viene, viene" (come here, come here!) from Gabri and Mari distracted me from spending a lot of time with their mothers, so hopefully next week I'll be able to find out more about them.  I'm already looking forward to going back next Tuesday.

Tuesday night we went and watched a Beatle's cover band at a club called Bebop (love that name) with some of the other studenti, and following Tuesday was the half-week of perfect weather.  The sun has caused somewhat a euphoria among us all, and we have taken full advantage of our sunshiny days.  Activities throughout the week have included:

1. A long run that actually took my friend Nick and I completely outside of Florence...you know this because in Italy, as you leave a town, they have giant white signs with the name of the town in black with a great big diagonal red line through them.  We found a quiet, hilly little town with lots of trees and windy little streets that were about the width of a Vespa, but it was really pretty and the locals were very friendly. By the run/walk home we were absolutely beat, but it was well worth it.

2.  A 463-step hike to the top of the Duomo.  Although you feel like you're ascending the dark, dank, stone steps into a medieval torture chamber, it looks like heaven at the top--what a view!

3. A soccer game played in a little park with some of my classmates.  We felt a little self-conscious playing soccer next to a group of 8-year-old Italian bambini who most likely would have kicked our butts if we played with them, but it was a good game all the same.

4. A picnic up at Fiesole, a town you can get to by bus that's located in the hills above Florence.  We found little piazza and ledge that had a great view, so we stayed there all afternoon to watch the sunset.  This was followed by a tipsy game of pick-up soccer which, although in theory sounds like a bad idea, turned out to be an excellent game.

5. A Valentine's day excursion to Chianti in which we got tours of a winery there and all their different types of wine.  This was followed by a delicious lunch and some excellent wine tasting.  There was plenty of food and plenty of wine to go around, so we obviously had a pretty good time.  Our excursion also included a tour of the pretty little town of Siena, but seeing as we were all fairly inebriated I don't think we fully absorbed the tour guide's lectures on the town and its history.  

 So those are the highlights of my week so far!  I'm looking forward to the arrival of the Sacramento Women's Cultural and Touring Society [title coined by John Doyle], and I've been in touch with the other Italian cugini so that we can have a nice reunion when all the americane arrive.  Mom, Aunties, and Grandma, if I don't talk to you before Wednesday, have a safe flight, can't wait to see you all!

Allora tutti, c'e' il sole today as well, so who knows what adventures the day will bring!

Vi voglio bene; auguri e cent'anni!

Love, Caity 

Singin' In the Rain

Ciao tutti!  I am happy to report that I am feeling much better since the last time I wrote, and a lot less bored.  The weather, however, with the exception of yesterday, has not improved, hence the title of the following discourse.  Today our teacher Michela apologized for the amount of rain we've had here in Florence this winter.  Apparently, it hasn't rained this many days here in over 30 years...perfect timing for my arrival, no?  But we have had a few sunshiny hours, which are very highly appreciated.  And I suppose without the rain, I would have missed out on the experience of seeing a young drunk Italian man wobbling on his bike through the streets singing  "I'm seeeee-ngeeng een the raaahn....I'm dahhhhhh-nceeng the raaahn" over and over again.  It felt like my very own Gene Kelly had come all the way to Florence to serenade me.   

OK, so let's see...I left off on Wednesday, and of course it was raining in the morning on Thursday,  but by the time class was over the sun had started to peek through the clouds.  

I was feeling well enough to go for a run, so I took advantage of the few hours of favorable weather and went down the Arno in the opposite direction that I usually go, which I'm so glad I did.  I went down the river a ways and spotted this church at the top of one of the hills, and for some reason I had this incredible urge to go see it for myself.  Crossing the incredibly busy streets on the other side of the Arno was no small feat, and sometimes the effort that it takes to simply avoid being turned into roadkill in Italy almost makes me want to avoid running altogether.  But I never regret it in the end, for once I get outside the city my runs always take me to places that I'd never discover otherwise.  I've gone through vineyards, found secret gardens and pathways that overlook the Tuscan hills, green parks and soccer fields nestled in corners outside the city I'd never go otherwise.  Thursday was no exception, I ran up a cobblestone path to the top of a hill where there was a church and a garden, and below it was a huge park with benches and shaded by trees.  Living in the city is fun, but sometimes after days of trekking over cobblestone and seeing nothing but buildings I long for the grass and the trees.  When I go for a run, my feet always seem to lead me outside the city where I can actually be in nature again, and I always return from my runs with my nature cravings satiated.

Thursday night we had our classmates over for dinner again, this time for a potluck.  We made it an international theme, so our friend Massa the cook made some great Japanese food, and everyone else contributed various dishes from their homelands.  My roommate Megan had the brilliant idea of making apple crisp (I know the expression is "American as apple pie," but we lacked the necessary ingredients for that analogy, so we had to modify it a bit).  It turned out to be absolutely delicious, and it was a big hit with our international amici.  When our Brazilian friend Fellipe asked what it was, he misheard Megan's pronunciation of "apple crisp" and started calling it "apple crack," which was probably just a more accurate name seeing as it was just about as addicting.  We had planned on going out after dinner so as not to wake up our kind neighbor Anne, but by then it was, as the Italians would say, Sta piovenda a catinelle, or raining buckets, so we enjoyed a very interesting game of charades instead.

Friday afternoon we departed for Roma on the bullet train, so we got there in about an hour and a half.  I have mixed feelings about Rome, so I arrived slightly unsure as to what to expect.  Rome is an incredible city; it's a history lover's dream and is surely the most exciting, bustling city in Italy.  However, Rome can be just as brutal as it is lovely, for it's incredibly crowded and overwhelmingly huge.  Reflecting over my weekend now, I'm glad I went to Rome for a second time, but it's like what they say: It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.  After a weekend of the crowds and the metro, I was happy to come back to mia Firenze.

We arrived late Friday afternoon and got to see the Trevi Fountain at night before we met our group for dinner.  The Trevi Fountain is beautiful by day, but I would highly recommend seeing it at night; for it's lit up and gives the piazza a warm, romantic glow--very Italy.  We met up with the other girls in our group for dinner (girls and one guy I should say--there's 22 girls in our group and one guy.  Whether he's incredibly lucky or incredibly unfortunate to be the sole male in a group of traveling, hormonal females is yet to be determined).  Chiara took us to a delicious restaurant where we had a huge dinner in a private room downstairs.  

What I love the most about Italian food is the variety.  In America, you go to a restaurant, order one thing, and get a huge portion of it.  You choose between either the ravioli or the steak, the large salad or the sandwich, etc.  In Italy, you get a little bit of everything: a few nibbles of antipasti, which usually includes some type of bruschetta, cheeses, and breads, then the primo piatto of some kind of pasta, such as lasagna, ravioli, or penne, and then the secondo of some kind of meat, and always followed by dolce e caffe.  You only get a small serving of each, so it's not like you end every meal feeling like you're about to burst.  A very small amount of the rich food is sufficient.  The Italians eat only the best cheese, the sweetest wine, the richest desserts, so you don't need heaps upon heaps of it to feel satisfied.  It's quality, not quantity here, and I think that's the secret as to how the Italians can eat pastas, cheeses, creams, and pastries every day without becoming morbidly obese.  

Saturday we got up bright and early to beat the crowds to the Vatican.  Armed with umbrellas, we only had to wait in the rain for a few minutes before being allowed inside.  (Another phenomenon about the rain in Italy: you can be walking down the street umbrella in hand, and you are still bombarded by the Moroccan guys on the street corners who shove umbrellas in your face saying, Ombrella, ombrella?  Tre euro, ombrella?  This practice is much more aggressive in Rome, where they nearly shave the skin off your nose by getting so close with their ombrelle.  What do they think we're going to do, take another umbrella?  Gee mister, it's so nice having my one umbrella in my right hand, I bet it'd be twice as nice to have one for my left hand as well!  Sure, I'll take one, and maybe a third in case one breaks!)  But as I was saying, we made it to the Vatican before a lot of the crowds had arrived, and I suppose it was good it was raining because I think it deterred the normally huge crowds from making the trek.  Without the crowds, it felt a lot less touristy than the first time I went, and I actually felt like I could appreciate each room's artwork without being hustled along like a salmon.  We walked through each of the rooms of the musei vaticani and saw the various statues and paintings, but the true climax is La Cappella Sistina, maybe you've heard of it?  Each room holds a sign with an arrow-shaped sign guiding you in the direction of the chapel, so you can tell those Swiss guards are really trying to get you pumped.  You go through each room thinking, wait, there's painting on the ceiling here...is this it?  Is this it?  Are we there yet?  Are we there yet?  But once you finally step into the chapel, you know you've arrived.  The expansive walls and ceilings are just covered in gorgeous paintings, and you can truly spend hours in there without looking at the same picture twice.  I had already been once before, and seeing it for a second time was no less climactic. 

We walked around in St. Peter's square for awhile and then got some pizza and gelato for lunch.  Following our trip to the Vatican was a walking tour around Rome where we were taken to the various important landmarks: the Spanish steps, the Trevi Fountain, and the Pantheon.  It only rained a little bit during our tour, so that was fortunate.  Our Italian tour guide was very nice but also very boring.  I noticed that she had this tendency to end about every other word in the "a" sound, which was slightly distracting: "And this building-a that we see now-a was built in honor of the pope-a," etc.  So I once again enjoyed people-watching rather than listening to the actual history, but again, that history stuff is Kelly's job.

Later that night I met up with more cugini for dinner.  Luigina's sister Ersilia, who's 56, lives in Rome with her husband Bruno and their 20-something son Marco.  Just some more names to add to the list; there will be more in two weeks when we meet up with the cugini in Pianello when my mom and grandma and aunts get here, so make sure you have these ones down.  Marco very kindly picked me up and drove me out to their house, where Ersilia prepared dinner for all of us.  I had a really nice time talking to them, for I hadn't seen Ersilia and Bruno in almost 4 years, and I had never met Marco before.  Marco speaks great English and Bruno is taking classes to learn, but we spoke in Italian pretty much the entire night.  Bruno really likes to practice his English, so Marco let him try to explain the few Italian phrases I didn't understand.  The cooking genes definitely run in the family, for Erislia's dinner was also fantastic--I just don't understand how the genes skipped over me completely, but oh well.  I had so much fun seeing them again and actually being able to carry on real conversation.  Ersilia even told me how much my Italian had improved: "not like the last time you came here and you couldn't say anything!" We had a good dinner and then they took me out into the city to show me some piazzas I hadn't seen yet.  Seeing how it was pouring, this probably wasn't the best idea, but it was still nice to see the piazzas lit up at night, the slick cobblestones glowing from the reflection of the light on the water.  They took me to the Pantheon where I met up with my friends, and I was surprised at how sad I felt saying good-bye.  I know I haven't spent much time with my Italian cousins, but they really do feel like family.  It's comforting to have familiar faces so far from home, and I'm always overwhelmed by how welcomed and loved they make me feel whenever I visit.  

That night we went to "Ice Club," a club that is literally made entirely of ice.  They give you these huge coats to wear, and you go inside the bar where your drinks are served in an ice glass and there are little igloos you can sit inside to drink.  I thought it was really cool, but business wise I don't know if it's a good idea or a bad idea.  You can only spend about 45 minutes in there seeing as it's so cold, so thus you don't buy that many drinks, but there are always those who reason that the more you drink the warmer you get, so maybe people end up buying more drinks overall?  I'd like to take a look at their books to see how they compare financially to other bars.  

The next day we met up with our tour-a guide-a again and she took us to the Colosseum and the the Roman Forum.  When we got off the Metro it was like a torrential downpour, but by the time we got to the Colosseum it had stopped raining and the sun actually came out!  Thus we were in much better spirits by the end of the second tour, and we got to spend the rest of the afternoon strolling Rome and lounging on the Spanish steps in the sun.  We went to a cute little restaurant where they had five dollar pizzas, and we had such a good experience!  Our waiter, Giovanni, was friendly and funny, and he brought us a huge bottle of water and a basket of bread for free (yes, you have to pay for these things in Italy) because he said he knows what it's like to be a studente.  He had a big smile and when we'd flag him over, he'd pinch our cheeks and go, "Dimmi tutto!" or "tell me everything!"  After other patrons paid he'd loudly count the tips they left and comment on whether he thought the tip they'd left was sufficient.  When we left, he gave us all big kisses on the cheek and told us to come back soon.  Gosh, do I love the Italians.

We got home from Rome on Sunday exhausted, and awoke yesterday to find that the sun was out!  We hurried home from school so we could go outside.  I went for a long run and met up with my roommates on the steps of the Piazzale Michaelangelo, the place where you can see all of Florence.  We sat out there for awhile and bought some champagne to toast to the fact that it actually wasn't raining--a real occasion these past few weeks, let me tell you.  It's amazing how the sun can really make everything seem so much better.

Today the rain is back, but it's probably for the better since I have a midterm on Friday and probably need to get to studying.  There's no way I'd be able to get anything done if it was sunny.  But considering this is our first test in over 5 weeks of not having any homework or quizzes, I guess that it makes sense that it's time to hit the books.  Oh, also, I get to start volunteering tonight (I was sick and missed it last week) at the women and children's shelter, so I'm really looking forward to that.  I'll meet you all back here in a few days and let you know how it goes!

Lost in Translation Moments, Part III.

1. In class:  our teacher asked to come up with 3 words to describe Italians.  I volunteered the word appassionato, which means "passionate," and by this, I can assure you, I simply meant that the Italians are really enthusiastic and excited about life.  However, in Italian, appassionato means "passionate" in the sexual sense, and apparently I was the only person in the class who was unaware of this.  This became clear to me when my teacher exclaimed "Catia!" in horror and the rest of my class burst into laughter.  "You know this from experience, Caity?" Julian snickered.  I hastily had to explain myself.  

2. While walking through rainy Rome with Ersilia, Bruno, and Marco, I pointed to a puddle and asked her how to say it in Italian.  She didn't understand what I was pointing at, so I tried to explain to her what I meant and ended up saying, le piscine dell'acqua nella terra, or "the swimming pools of water in the earth."  I didn't hear the end of that one for the rest of the evening.  "Watch out for the swimming pools!" Ersilia would laugh.  

Vi voglio bene,

Caity

 

Niente da fare...

I'm currently contemplating whether or not it's worth posting a blog today seeing as my life the past few days has been, as the Italians would say, molto noiso, or very boring.  But studying abroad definitely has its ups and downs, so I suppose I need to share the downs with everyone as often as I share the ups.  And unfortunately, my immune system has been on the down this week.  

Monday afternoon after I went to watch the movie I came home feeling pretty tired.  I called it an early night, hoping some much-needed rest would help me feel better, but I woke up on Tuesday morning feeling quite the opposite of better.  I managed to pull myself out of bed for class but nearly passed out face-down onto my desk by the end of the lesson.  I stumbled home, stopping by a pharmacy on the way to pick up some medicina.  Through the fog in my brain I tried to describe my symptoms to the pharmacist, who, although she spoke no English, was very patient with my fragmented attempts.  I couldn't for the life of me think of the Italian equivalent of "sinus infection," so I felt like a contestant on The $100,000 Pyramid.  It was as if I could describe the term in any other way besides using the term itself. In Italian, I explained to her "It's not a fever, it's similar to a cold, it causes you to feel very tired, it's when your nose is congested and it causes your head to hurt," and after she figured out I was describing a sinus infection I nearly expected a host to jump out and tell us what kind of prizes and merchandise we'd be winning.  She gave me some kind of Italian miracle cure, because I slept throughout the day and got about 11 hours of sleep that night.

I woke up this morning feeling much better, but still not totally enthusiastic to doing anything too active.  After class my roommates and I found a little hole-in-the-wall trattoria for lunch that was cheap and delicious, but that was about the most exciting part of my day.  Other than that I've just been laying around and making myself mugs of hot water and lemon juice.  Molto interessante, no?

The one positive aspect of feeling under the weather this week is that the weather itself is pretty gloomy.  It's a lot easier to be stuck indoors when it's raining.  I don't think I'd be able to stand it if the sun was out!

One more night of good rest and hopefully I'll be feeling better tomorrow.  I want to be all better for our excursion to Rome this weekend!

Yours very sniffly and very bored,

Caity

Pip, pip, cheerio ol' chaps!  I'm about to have a cuppa tea and maybe some biscuits, Bob's your uncle!  Oh bugger, look at the time, I'd better dash.  Cheers!

There we go, just needed to set the mood for myself before recounting all my British adventures.  So where did we leave off since last time?  Let's see, so I guess I left off Wednesday afternoon, so I'll give a quick recap of Wednesday night before talking about London.  Wednesday evening we had a group of classmates over for dinner, and as Borat would say: Great success!  We brewed up some bruschetta, two different types of pasta, and salad.  Our Japanese classmate Massa is a chef in a restaurant here, so we anxiously awaited his learned opinion as he munched on our pasta.  He very kindly proclaimed, "Buona!" But seeing as our pasta had far too many red peppers in it, I think he was only trying to be kind.  We're having another dinner this week, but this time Massa's cooking.

After dinner we trouped down the street to Sam's 70s party, where they had a DJ spinning some 70s tunes.  My German friend Leonie and my Swedish friend Martina and I got the night started by boogy-ing (spelling??) to Abba's "Dancing Queen," and from there on out the dancing didn't stop.  A bunch of my classmates met up with us at the bar later, and I couldn't believe that the lyrics to classics such as "Disco Inferno" and "Stayin' Alive" were so world-renowned.  (Hearing such classics sung in accents from places such as Brazil and Norway is not something to be missed, let me tell you.)  Everyone had a good time, especially Leonie.  Leonie is usually pretty quiet in class, but after a few glasses of wine at our apartment she definitely wasn't quiet.  She turned into a dancing machine, and I'm pretty sure every time I saw her at Sam's she had a different drink in hand.  When I saw her in class Thursday morning she said, "Yeah, the party was great!  I thought it was so cool that they were handing out free drinks!" 

Whoops. "Uh, Leonie," I replied, "I don't think they were handing out free drinks.  You just didn't pay for any of them."  

We'll have to pay Sam and Alessandro back later.

Thursday morning we had class and straight after that we hopped (not literally of course) on a train to the Pisa airport.  By now, I think I've made it pretty clear that I absolutely love Italy.  But there is one town that is an exception to this ardent love of mine, and that town is Pisa.  I think Pisa is absolutely pointless and overrated.  But the leaning tower! people say, the leaning tower of Pisa!  I mean, I guess the tower is okay, but honestly, it looks exactly the same as the pictures--you could save yourself a lot of time and money by Googling pictures online.  And I mean really, should we really be celebrating the fact that some architect couldn't draw a straight line on his blueprints?   I think it's time we acknowledged the fact that yes, the tower is not in fact straight, and moved on to more exciting places.  And really, the tourist pictures are just getting old, people.  You were NOT the first to come up with the "oh-look-I'm-holding-up-the-tower-with-my-hand" pose.  We had four hours in Pisa from when our train arrived to when our flight departed, and if you ask me, it was 3 hours and 55 minutes too many.  (The 5 minutes I enjoyed in Pisa were spent taking pictures of the tourists doing the hokey poses.)  OK, enough griping.  We actually did enjoy a pretty delicious lunch at an outdoor cafe, and the sun was out so we got a bit of warmth before heading off to London, so that was nice.

As we waited in the airport, I thought I was hallucinating because I heard someone call out my name.  You don't hear the name "Caity" pronounced too often in these parts, and when someone does try to pronounce it, the variations are hilarious.  But I heard the proper pronunciation of my name and turned around to see Jim, a friend of mine from high school!  I couldn't believe it.  We hadn't seen each other since senior year, and not only were we in the EXACT same country on the EXACT same flight going to the EXACT same other country, he's also studying abroad in Florence this semester!  After a good 5 minutes of incredulous exclamations of "Wow!", "I can't believe this!", or "This is crazy!", we agreed to try to meet up in London and were able to hang out together one night.  I tell ya, sometimes it feels that the farther away I go, the smaller this world becomes.

We flew with a European company called Ryan Air, which is known for being cheap and on-time.  But we couldn't help feeling a little nervous about any plane that could get you to another country for only 30 euro.  We quickly found out that Ryan Air planes are definitely the lemons of the 747s, and the bright yellow interior of the plane and matching yellow seats go well with this theme.  Ryan Air calls itself "The on-time airline," and I noticed that on both flights we arrived 20 minutes ahead of schedule.  I couldn't help wondering though, if all the flight times hadn't been slightly overestimated so as to ensure that all the flights land "on time."  It's actually a brilliant business strategy.  Going from Sacramento to L.A.?  Yes, it's going to be an 8 hour flight....oh look, we've arrived 6 and a half hours early, imagine that!  It's why we call ourselves "the on-time airline!"

We got to London without a hitch, and let me tell you, London is COLD.  Don't ever let me complain about the cold here in Florence again, because London is freezing! (Literally.  0 degrees celsius upon arrival.)   At first it was a bit of a shock to have everything in English, but it was nice to actually be able to ask someone for directions without having to pantomime like an idiot.  However, just because someone speaks English does NOT guarantee that you will be able to understand them.  Brit-speak might as well be a foreign language at times.  For example: "Cheerio mate, did ya come by your jack?  Crikey, take a dekko at this gobsmacked grub!  We should gen up on this place, I'd fancy another visit, it's ace!"  I'm sorry...what?

We really had a great time in London though.  There is so much to see there, and I felt like there wasn't time to do everything!  I definitely want to go back again for another visit someday where I could go for at least a week.  I got a good taste of London after two days, a nibble perhaps, but I want to return again someday to take a really big bite out of it.  We did pretty well in two days though, considering we got off to a bit of a late start both days.  (Late night pub-crawl's are not exactly conducive to early-morning sight-seeing.  Now having experienced one, I understand why they're called "crawls," for that's about all you can to do after visiting 5 different London pubs in which they serve discounted drinks.  Pub-"stagger"s would also be a fitting term.)  

We went to the Tower of London, where we went into the torture chamber where they had all these different instruments of torture.  Absolutely disgusting, some of the methods, but cool in a sick kind of way.  We saw where Anne Boelyn and a bunch of other people were beheaded, but my favorite room was the room filled with the Crown Jewels.  All the different crowns and swords and gold of various monarchs were on display, and I felt like Rain Man staring at all the glittering jewels.  "Very sparkly.  Very--very sparkly, def-definitely, very sparkly."  They have guards like the ones at Buckingham palace standing in front of the building, and we got to see a changing of the guards ceremony there.  I always wonder what those guys are thinking about staring straight ahead like that.  Are they really concentrating on protecting the honor of their country, patriotically and vigilantly serving their Majesty, or are they making their grocery lists?  "Let's see, eggs, bread, toilet paper...am I out of milk?  I think I'm out of milk."  

We went to a very authentic English pub for lunch, which was nice and warm inside.  I ordered fish and chips and a pint, feeling incredibly British.  So that was an absolutely delicious meal.  We also had a great dinner of Indian food, which is fantastic in London.  We also went to see Big Ben, West Minster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, and Hyde Park.  I think the coolest thing I did though was ride the London Eye.  The London Eye is the biggest ferris wheel in the world, and from the top you can see the entire city spread out below.  Now, ferris wheels normally scare the living daylights out of me and I usually refuse to ride them.  I found it interesting that my first ferris wheel flight in years would be on the largest in the world, but go big or go home, right?  It was a magnificent view, and as long as I didn't get too close to the windows I wasn't completely white-knuckled the entire ride.  We also went to Harrod's, which is a massive department store in which they sell anything you could ever possibly want.  Clothes, books, furniture, fine jewelry, designer gowns, antiques, baby clothes, pet clothes, televisions, chandeliers, perfume, makeup, and any type of food you could possibly imagine.  Lesley, if Charley needs a new Armani suit, I could pick one up for you at Harrod's.  I know the one he has right now is getting a little worn.  And if any of you have 20,000 pounds to burn, you could always buy a mink coat of a diamond necklace there.  I definitely did more wishful thinking than shopping there, but it was a pretty cool store to explore.  Overall, I had a positively splendid weekend.  I know Kelly is thinking about studying abroad in London when she's in college, so I think I'm going to encourage her highly in that development.  She's going to need visitors, right?

We got home from London Sunday afternoon, and it was a really nice feeling coming back to Florence.  Whenever I leave Florence for a few days, upon my return it truly feels like I'm coming home, which is nice.  It's nice when you're so far away from your real home to be able to feel truly comfortable where you are.  Like Thoreau said, you need to be able to make your home anywhere.  Sunday afternoon was relaxing, and my roommates and I siesta-ed in anticipation for the Superbowl, which didn't start here until midnight.  We went to one of the American bars here to watch it, so it was really fun.  While we were watching the game, everyone wanted to know who everyone else was rooting for.  I remained neutral, for the only one I was really rooting for was Springsteen, who was the man I came to see.  After two seemingly endless quarters, I was stoked when it was finally time for the halftime show.  He made a FANTASTIC performance, as always.  The twelve-minute set couldn't really compare to his marathon 3-hour concerts, but I thought he put together a great setlist for the limited time he had.  I was definitely the most enthusiastic dancer and fan in that bar, which proved to be slightly embarrassing for my roommates.  

So that's about all there is to tell for now!  It was a bit of a challenge getting up for class this morning considering we didn't wind down from the Superbowl activities til about 5 a.m. this morning, but I made it through.  Now I'm just enjoying a rainy afternoon and I'm about to go watch an Italian movie.  Every Monday one of my friends from Syracuse has a film class in which they show Italian movies, so I like to go with her and get a taste of the cinema italiana.  Last week was the very moving and very depressing movie The Bicycle Thieves, so this week we're watching the comedy Villa Rossa, which will hopefully be a bit more uplifting.  So thus I really must dash, but don't worry sports fans, new updates will be coming soon to a computer near you!

Auguri e cent'anni,

Caity