Wednesday, July 31, 2013

The Italian language

As the Italians party incessantly above my room, with the speaker literally a few feet above my head creating a sort of pounding effect on all the walls and ceiling around me, I'm going to write a blog post about something I've found interesting in my Italian short story class. 

We've been talking a lot about Italian dialects. For those who don't know, standard Italian was a conscious decision that has failed to unify this country linguistically, just as the political unification back in the 19th century didn't particularly succeed either. To explain myself, I'll start with the French example, since that's clearly what I know best. 

In the 16th century in France, during the Renaissance, a group of writers (specifically Du Bellay) were particularly insistent that the national language of the country should be French, and that people should write in French instead of in Latin (which at the time was a language reserved and spoken only by academics and religious figures, and was drastically different from the Latin spoken in the Roman Empire before the Middle Ages). Du Bellay's argument was that French was the vernacular, the vulgar language if you will, and that in order for it do develop properly, it needed a literature. Fortunately, this seemed to coincide (approximately) with a thorough formalization of the language on every level. A creation, rather. The French language, as we know it today, finds its roots in this recreation of a naturally-developed tongue, a refashioning that consisted in a standardization of the accents (é, è, î, etc.), the way letters were written (the printing press, as you know, was new technology back then, and it was especially important to have that standardized), the way things were pronounced, the way poetry should be written, etc. In the following century, the Académie française was established as the authority on the French language, its official protector, and it does things such as actively try to keep other languages from entering into the French one. 

I know I'm not competent to make any grand judgments about this standardization, but I like to think that it is part of the reason there are more jobs available for French literature PhD students than Italian literature PhD students at the very least. I'd venture to go even farther, and say that this linguistic unification in France allowed for a national unification that didn't happen in Italy until much later. And even when Italy as a country was unified about three centuries later, the fact that a forced political union preceded a parallel linguistic one seems to be a major hindrance to speaking about a national Italian literature, or even Italian literary history. What's more, this lack of communication (given even now in Italy, everyone continues to speak their own dialect first, and is taught at the very least to understand standard Italian) might be contributing to their political and economic problems. Like I said, I don't know or care enough about Italian politics or economics to comment in detail, but a part of me believes that these problems are related to the linguistic barrier. 

For instance, we're discussing Calvino's collection of Italian Folktales, and this collection was written in the 50's in Italy. Written might not be the best term. To write it, Calvino went all around the country, listened to stories that had been conserved in a purely oral and dialectical tradition, and rewrote them in standard Italian with his own inimitable style and brilliance. They are delightful stories, an important work in Italian literature to say the least. This was done in the 1950's. He was the first to do it. Even nowadays, Italian writers incorporate their dialects into their works, mostly in a way all Italians can understand, but this sort of style might be part of the reason that Italian literature in general isn't quite as international as other literatures. Calvino's Italian seems mostly free of dialects to me, but honestly, what do I really know? I've been studying this language for 2 years. It is almost astounding that American students who learn Italian in college feel they can do academic work on Italian literature. It seems to me that to know the literary history and context would be virtually impossible for a non-native speaker given the existence and predominance of these dialects. 

Anyway, that was my academic post for this blog. Forgive me. I'm not thinking straight because it is 12:01am and they are turning up the music above my room. I have a headache, and have to give a 15 minute presentation in class tomorrow. I don't understand why they continue to have these parties for a dwindling number of people (I was up there 20 minutes ago, and there were under 10 people there), on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, as loud as possible. In fact, perhaps the linguistic issue isn't the real problem. Immaturity, people being inconsiderate, and laziness might be the real culprits. These Italian students don't seem to understand that in order to get 2 semester's worth of credit for 6 weeks in Italy, they have to do a lot of work, wake up every morning at 7am, have three hours of class a day, and especially this: get their money's worth. Italians are worse than the French in this respect. The university costs so little, they have no incentive to do well. Their exams are oral. They aren't required to attend classes. A minimum amount of work can get them a passing grade, and eventually a degree that likely won't help them get a job. And while they refuse to understand why American universities cost so much, Americans pay that price because we believe a university education will help us get a job, and a better job than had we not gone. And since we're paying, there is more incentive to learn something. Italians, on the other hand, seem to chill at their university, party, and stay as long as they want. The guy throwing this party is 30 years old, living in a dorm with students a decade younger than him, and screaming "ciao nè" into a microphone above my head right now. Good thing Italy's so pretty...

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Italians and road work

Italians are infuriating. Especially when it comes to fixing their extremely poorly designed highway directly in front of the Caffè degli amici. This morning, around 8:00am when everyone is trying to drive to work, or in our case, walk to breakfast/class, they decided to repave the entire street. I don't know much about this, but I would assume that in America, this sort of work would be done at a time at which it wouldn't interfere with most people's lives. Possibly around 4 in the morning, or late at night. But I guess Italians only work during normal weekday hours. Fine, I'll accept that. Perhaps they might have considered doing this paving at or around 3pm, when the caffè is closed, and when everyone in this entire country is taking their post-lunch naps, when people are safely at their jobs, and when there is almost no one on the road. No, that would be too logical for Italians. They decide to pick the most inconvenient time to rip up the current street, put down new tar, and flatten it all in front of a group of student eating at the caffè immediately in front of them. 

The fumes were strong enough to kill. The whole process seemed positively unsafe, as their machines were getting uncomfortably close to the caffè. The tar was hot, the machines were everywhere, and people kept trying to cross the street but couldn't. Did I mention there are also no sidewalks? This would have been a lawsuit waiting to happen in America. In Italy, I suppose it was just a Tuesday morning. As one of the other students said, Italy is a first-world country with third-world problems. Possibly because of their corrupt government leaders, or the overall laziness which may be due in part to the intense heat. Those slight annoyances from France, such as the time it takes to complete very simple tasks (see my post about opening a French bank account), are exponentially worse here, and we're not even seeing half of it since we're here within the context of an American university that is doing everything for us. On the one hand, it's good for us to get out of the stressed mindset that everything has to be done immediately; on the other, we still need to turn in our work on time, whether or not the Italians have fixed the Internet. All in all, a six week program in Italy is a nice vacation, but actually studying here would probably be somewhat of a hindrance to productivity. 

The International Student Party

I don't know if I've mentioned Nicola and Michele in this blog. In any case, I met Nicola when Gabriella was teaching Mike and me yoga on one of the many Tridente terraces. It was a nice day, and we were trying to be totally silent while doing these various poses, then some Italian guy broke the silence by having a telephone conversation in French a few feet away from us. I didn't notice, but Gabriella and I both told me to speak to him in French (they couldn't tell that he had an Italian accent in French, but I could. I love the Italian accent in French—it's quite delicate!), so I did. Turns out he had just gotten back from a year in France through Europe's Erasmus program, a cheap and wonderful way for European students to take advantage of the proximity of other countries. 

Well, we have been hanging out with Nicola and his friend Michele for a while. Nicola cannot believe that I don't have an accent in French, and is also quite impressed with my Italian. But, like any good Italian, he acts very immature all the time, and jokes around with all of us. With me, he tells me I have a French accent in Italian since I told him I like his Italian accent in French. Anyway, Nicola was at the party last night (Michele is back home in Puglia) and told me an excellent fairy tale: 

"Once upon a time, or maybe twice, there was a human being." 

The rest of the story was just as good as that opening would suggest. Everyone else was dancing to the standard American party music, so I wasn't particularly enjoying barely being able to hear the story.  In any case, it is really fun to have trilingual conversations, walk that fine line between sarcasm and irony to keep up with Nicola's sense of humor, and hear an Italian tell a fairy tale in English, since we're reading lots of Italian fairy tales in our class nowadays (mostly Calvino)!

Ask and you shall receive

Yesterday, it stormed. And it was glorious! In the broken Italian of the American students here in Urbino, the event sounds quasi biblical: "Then, the big cloud came and gave us rain. Suddenly, it was cool." Suddenly, my room was bearable, or even better, cool! Leaving both the door and the window open helped as well. The bees are back, but with the window opened all the way, they seem to find their way out rather quickly. And the rain came just in time for the International Student party, a little thank-you from the ERSU staff (the people who run this student housing/dining company) for the American programs who are keeping Urbino a point of international encounters. Ironic, since they choose Urbino since it isn't international—walking around this town, it would be relatively difficult to find people to converse at length with in English. 

So, yesterday turned out to be a mental health day. Just relaxing, napping, watching the storm. And it was delightful. 


Sunday, July 28, 2013

The hottest summer of the year

A few days ago, an Italian in the dorm posted a news piece on my Facebook wall saying the hottest summer in decades was almost upon us. I didn't read it. I was busy and tired, and besides, everyone knows Italy is hot. 40 degrees Celsius means very little to me (more than it did a few years ago, but still...). It would soon be even hotter. But how to distinguish when you're living in a dorm with no air conditioning that is already an oven?

Well, I am now a refugee. A refugee from the heat. I don't want to go outside. Ever. Yesterday, we went to the beach, and it helped a bit, but ultimately just lead to more cold showers when we got back. The beach at Pesaro is very lovely, but I was once again disappointed in the commercial aspect of Italian beaches. If you haven't been to one or seen it in a movie, it looks like identical rows of chairs and umbrellas (beach ombrellas, or ombrelloni) that you pay to use. Convenient, sure. But unique? Apparently not. The difference between the beach at Rimini and the beach at Pesaro was that the one at Rimini had more hotels behind it, and no mountain in the distance. Aside from that, not particularly exciting. The water was warm, so not much of an escape from this intense heat, and Gabriella got the sunburn of her life. I've had worse, but it's still quite bad. The others decided to go to Fano, another beach that is apparently prettier but farther away. Honestly, I don't understand what could make an Italian beach prettier. Are there fewer chairs? 

The heat is so intense, I think the giant bees have died. I am no longer afraid to leave my window open on the off chance a stupid bee will get trapped in my room, because I haven't seen one in ages. But unfortunately, it is hotter than ever and the rooms just don't seem to want to cool down, not even at night when the temperature becomes even slightly bearable. 

So, I am inside today. Either here at Tridente or at the Caffè degli amici, where there is air conditioning. I am thinking of making the trip back there in an hour or so. The trade: 5 minutes of walking in this heat for an hour of cool and refreshing drinks. Then 5 minutes back. Hmmm...maybe not. In any case, that is the situation here in Urbino. 

Yesterday, I played The Carnival of Venice for Luca and a bunch of African priests-in-training who speak French at the Caffè degli amici, and got two free spritzes! And that is all the news I have. So, back to my goals for today: 

1) Do my readings for tomorrow's class

2) Finish my essay for tomorrow's class (just 1 page left, unless I feel the need to write more than 2 pages)

3) Take a cold shower

4) Don't die of heat exhaustion 

5) Eat dinner

6) Avoid the sun as much as possible

7) Try to sleep despite the uncomfortable sticky heat. 

Question: How does anything get done in Italy? How has anything EVER gotten done in Italy? 

Friday, July 26, 2013

The guy who made my shoes is also an antique music fan!

Urbino is the cutest small town ever, apparently. And several events from this week have proved just that. 

First off, I should mention my scholarship donor from Johns Hopkins, Rosalind, came to visit me. Ros is an italophile (not sure if that's a word...) and has been ever since she was at Hopkins at wrote a thesis on Boccaccio. She spent her last year at Hopkins in Italy, traveling everywhere she could, and managed to get to some pretty obscure places apparently. For instance, she got here and asked if I had heard of the mosaics in Ravenna. I, of course, said yes, since we were just there. She said she was heading there after Rimini, and wanted to know if I wanted to tag along. Too bad I had just seen them. 

Anyway, walking around Urbino, we ran into everyone I know here. Students, Luca/Davide from the caffè, Nicola and Michele, random other people. Ros is now convinced this place is the Italy she knew, and not the commercialized tourist trap it seems to be now. She enjoyed herself having conversations with random Italians everywhere about the university here in Urbino, and came to the conclusion that it is one of the worst in Italy, that none of the professors have published anything in the last decade at least, that the students don't attend classes, and that the quality is just pathetic. But, at least little Italian university towns are friendly, no matter how bad the school. 

On Tuesday, I got my shoes, and they are wonderful. Here is a picture: 
The guy fitted them right to my feet.

But the funny thing is, I just saw him again tonight! I went to a "musica antica" concert (there's a huge festival going on, and people from all over the world have come to see this ancient music being performed on reproductions of the old instruments) and there he was! Good thing I was wearing the shoes! 


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Presents to myself

By the way, I'm writing these posts so late because the Italians were just partying directly above my room. Well, Italians and Americans. Very few Italians are left, and they are throwing parties for the Americans who are taking their place. Nice, but not right above my room. I went for a minute or two, then went back downstairs to work on the presentation I have to give tomorrow before getting out of town with Rosalind Resnick, my scholarship donor from Hopkins who has come to visit me! We're going to Rimini, a little beach town, and I'll write more about that once I see it. 

1) Shoes: An Italian man here owns a leather store and makes quality leather products. I bought myself a pair of shoes that he made for me. He measured my feet, let me pick the style and color, fit them on my feet, punched holes in so I could fasten them, and I walked out of the store with a new pair of custom-made shoes! Not bad, huh? Not too expensive either—just your shoe size plus 10, so 48 euros for me!

2) Earrings on the Ponte Vecchio: Yes, I wanted a pair of earrings, and yes I wanted to buy them in Florence. While I wouldn't ordinarily pay so much for earrings, I figured I can keep them forever (it's not like they will ever break, go out of style, or not fit my ears anymore) and I can tell the story of how I went shopping for them on the Ponte Vecchio. The price was 230 euros, but the lady gave me a discount because she was so impressed with my Italian, so 180. Then, she gave me the tax refund forms so I can get even more money back for them at the airport on the way home!

3) An official Uffizi guide: I waited twice in the line for the Uffizi, two hours each time, all to no avail. I hated that museum with a passion. Both times would have been impossible for me to make a reservation (the first was Easter weekend while I was studying in Paris, so no reservations) and the second was after graduating from Hopkins, and I took the train from Pisa to go to Florence just for a day with Justine. Didn't get there early enough. This time, Andrea Baldi, the program director, made a reservation for the students who wanted to go, and I was determined to spend 4 hours there to make up for my wasted time. I succeeded! And bought myself a lovely 18 euro book with pictures of all the art I wasn't allowed to take pictures of in this INCREDIBLE museum. 

4) Tickets to see Roberto Benigni recite the Divine Comedy. Fine...not a "present" in the sense that I can take it home with me, but I got pictures, and really enjoyed it. Plus, I can tell everyone how I saw an award-winning Italian actor recite Dante in front of the statue of Dante in Florence, the city where Dante was born and started writing this important text for Italian history/language/literature. 25 euros. 

5) A silk/cashmere scarf. Gorgeous, got a discount because I spoke Italian, and I just wanted it. 35 euros. 

But, I guess the punchline should be: A trip to Florence, priceless? Eh...clearly there were prices. But this was the first time I have really enjoyed Florence. We also went to Siena, where they have the most beautiful cathedral ever, and San Gimignano where they have the gelateria which has won Italy's contest for the best gelato TWICE! 

Roberto Benigni...I got better pictures on my camera. 

Roma

So, not this past weekend, but the one before, I went to Rome (Roma) with several other students from the program. The various ways in which this trip was carried out is a testament to studying abroad in general, and the types of students you come across here. 

1) "The Princeton Girls" — I am not considered a Princeton girl, even if I go to Princeton. The three Princeton undergrads together (Caroline, Joan, and Andra) stick together like glue, and the rest of the students have taken to calling them "The Princeton Girls." I complained about not being included in the nickname, and Luca (from the caffè) has decided to call me "La Princeton girl francese" or the French Princeton girl. Thanks Luca. Anyway, Caroline, Joan and Andra all knew each other well, reserved a 3-person hotel room at a nice hotel reasonably far in advance, and planned on spending a nice weekend in Rome seeing the sights. Caroline is especially privileged (her family takes trips to Europe every summer) and has been to Rome many times, so she was planning on playing the tour guide for the others. 

2) Jennifer, Becky, and me — We don't know everyone in the program perfectly, and decided to see when everyone was going to Rome to plan around that. When everyone said they wanted to go two weekends ago, we all had a meeting at which most of the others decided they preferred to stay in a hostel rather than pay 80 euros for 2 nights in a hotel. Jen, Becky and I decided to book a last-minute triple in a hotel that wasn't quite as nice as that of "The Princeton Girls." 

3) "The Wolf Pack" — Unfortunately, when studying abroad, you get students who came to partake in underage drinking (since they are legally old enough to drink here), party every night, and who view the academics and cultural immersion as a side effect. They don't tend to learn much from what I've seen, but they have a good time. In the Rutgers program, they have called themselves "The Wolf Pack." I don't know how they do it, but I'm impressed by their stamina. They found a house to rent in Rome, and fit 4-5 people in each room and shared 3 bathrooms. They had no wifi, and had a hard time communicating with the rest of us. Two of them got their cell phones stolen on the metro, and several of them got lost on various occasions. They enjoyed their weekend, but I have a feeling I wouldn't have with them.*

*I just want to specify: these are all nice students individually, most with Italian roots who are interested in being in Italy and learning about their heritage. They are just more interested in other things. They're an eclectic bunch, and very bright. I just can't keep track of them on an average day, and I'm starting to become a bit sleep deprived because of them. 

Anyway, my weekend in Rome was spent with groups 1 and 2, obviously. We saw the sights, ate gelati, and I made my first Italian joke! At a restaurant, I wanted a traditional, spicy Roman chicken, but some guy named Marco had ordered the last one. When the waiter suggested I yell at him, I laughed it off and said "Marco mi ha rubato il pollo. Marco Pollo" (Marco stole my chicken [pollo]. Marco Pollo." Not bad, and making jokes in a new language is a clear sign of progress!

Here are some pictures:

Tossing a coin into the Trevi fountain at night, dressed as a Venetian apparently, even though the shirt is one of the Marinières I bought in Paris. Salvatore told me I looked like a gondolier when I was leaving Urbino, and asked if I knew which city I was going to...


Because Marco stole my Pollo, I got this lovely fish that I had to debone myself. Turns out, I'm a pro! Joan got a bone stuck in her throat...

Becky, Caroline, and me. 

Me in front of the Colosseum

Me eating a delicious granita which you can't really see since Jen apparently didn't understand why I wanted her to take a picture with my ice cream. There is a glass filled with napkins in front of the ice cream!! Oh Jen...







Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Italians and Internet

First, apologies for everyone who has been waiting for a blog post. I would have written several, given everything I've done since the 11th (going to Rome, participating in fun Italian parties, visiting Urbino's ducal palace, seeing priceless works of art, etc.), but in that time, I have learned something very important about Italians: they are slow. Thursday, after visiting the Palazzo Ducale, I actually decided to do my work and write about it later, but unfortunately there would be no later, since I left for Rome on Friday after class, and when I came back to Urbino Sunday night, I was informed that the Internet was out. How long had it been out, you ask? Well, starting Saturday night when there was a big storm. If I were at Princeton, it would be back almost immediately. Americans can't function without Internet, as you all must know. But here, their reaction is: well, we'll have to wait until regular weekday hours (which, in Italy, include a 2 hour break every day for lunch). I figured it would be back up on Monday. It is Wednesday night and it's still not back. We have a somewhat unreliable connection in the common area, which is where I am now, but that is it. Yesterday, I was able to check my email and Skype a bit, because I found a secret, slightly more reliable Internet that is outside in between two of the "braccia" (arms) of Tridente. But given how inconvenient it would have been to bring my iPad and keyboard out to a stone staircase and sit amongst the bugs writing a blog entry, I didn't bother. 

Anyway, where to begin? I guess I will start with yesterday and today. Tomorrow, I'll try to write about Rome (for some reason, my photos of Rome haven't transferred to my iPad yet). 

Last night: I had to prepare for a presentation that didn't end up happening today because we ran out of time. We had dinner with the Italian girls who are left in our part of braccio 2, and I heard a poem in the Veronese dialect! It was "come musica" to quote Jovanotti. Then, I went to a party that was being held right above my room. Why? Well, can't beat 'em, join 'em. That was my philosophy. Otherwise, I wouldn't have possibly been able to sleep, because they had a DJ (well, an Italian student named Andrea who was doing it all on his computer, but he was quite good) and they were extremely loud. Another reason I had to go: the Italian student who was throwing the party, Salvatore, had just given me a beautiful gift. He had painted me playing my flute, and given the paintings to me. They are wonderful! Hopefully I can post pictures later. So, I had to go to the party. Result: I got no sleep. 

Today: I didn't do my presentation because we ran out of time. I will do it tomorrow. I came back and took a 2 hour nap, given how exhausted I was from the never-ending party above my room last night. When I woke up, I pulled out my flute and started playing "Il Carnevale di Venezia" in preparation for my forthcoming trip to Venezia, and then heard more noise above my room. I went up to see what was happening, and found Salvatore cleaning up from the previous night. He saw I had my flute, and asked me to play The Carnival of Venice for him! PS: It's delightful playing on the roof with the mountains in front of you. Anyway, Salvatore told me to put my flute away, because we were going to have a bit of fun. He said we were going to "bagnare" the others. I didn't quite know what that meant. Bagnare means to wash. I was confused. Until I saw his water guns. He called Andrea, asked where he was, and we went over to braccio 1. Andrea was complaining about how hot it was when Salvatore opened fire. Andrea asked him to stop, because it was his only clean shirt apparently. I felt bad, so gave Andrea my water pistol. Then, Salvatore opened fire on me. Yes, that was my afternoon. In France, to practice my French, I met French people for coffee. In Italy, I apparently have to participate in water wars. And that is my life. 

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Urbino and Classes

I realized that, although Italian dorm life is indeed fascinating, the grand majority of my posts have been about that and not the actual city of Urbino. And even though that makes sense—our dorm building is a 10 minute walk from the city, on top of another hill, and our classes are held in a high school outside the city walls—I should probably write a bit about the actual city of Urbino. I should be able to write historical things tomorrow, because we're going to have a guided tour of the Ducal Palace in the afternoon, but for the moment, I'll just make a few observations. 

Urbino is one big hill. It's a beautiful one, but it's a hill nonetheless. What does this mean? Why is it relevant? Well, to enter the city, we have to walk the 20 minutes to the wall, and then, once inside, up a very steep hill. My Clarks are sturdy and have good traction, and are sandals so my feet don't sweat in the heat. Other students aren't so lucky. The stones that pave the roads in Urbino can be slippery, and in the heat, it's harder to pay attention. Fortunately for us, the best gelateria in the city is right at the top of that first hill, so we get a reward for our first city climb!

Urbino is a famous little Renaissance city in the Marche region of Italy. Famous for its Ducal Palace (which I should have something to say about tomorrow), it is about half the size of my hometown, Clarence, NY in terms of population. In terms of actual size, it's much, much smaller—the whole center city being contained within the walls. And there isn't much else, I found out today, because you can see almost everything if you climb up to the fortress. There is a great view. 

Urbino, viewed from the park at the fortress. Not bad, huh?

Urbino has a specialty food, we have learned, which is called "una crescia sfogliata. And yesterday, we found the greatest place ever to eat them. They are super cheap, a nice pastry crust wrapped around a center of your choice. Yesterday, I had prosciutto and cheese; today, mozzarella and tomato. The place we've found is just outside the wall at the top end of the city, and I believe that is why it costs almost nothing to eat there (about 4 euros for a crescia with one thing in the center). Their wine is delicious as well, and I had a spritz today. Molto buono, buonissimo!

It was delicious!

Today, I did an unreasonable amount of work in an unreasonably short amount of time. Clearly, the Princeton conditioning has set in, and I am now apparently capable of writing a 3 page essay in a language I just started learning last year in an hour and a half. You see, I'm going to Rome this weekend, and don't want to be bothered with an essay to write. I'm more than happy to read in the bus there and back. 

After our crescia dinner, we got back to Tridente to do our reading, and found out today was Davide's birthday! So, we all headed over to the Caffè degli amici where a cake was waiting for us. Italians and their birthday cakes, let me tell you! A fun night was had by all! 

La torta!

Davide ready to cut the cake...don't worry, he's not actually that scary-looking most of the time!

Luca giving Davide a pink ribbon to wear on his head, since he is the birthday boy!

Davide conducting as we sang him Happy Birthday in Italian and English. (Tanti auguri a te!)

And they brought out the bubbly! 







Saturday, July 6, 2013

Ravenna and San Marino

Today was our group trip to Ravenna and San Marino, and after waking up bright and early to meet at the caffè at 7:40 (even earlier than we have to meet for our classes), the 28 of us students, the 5 TA's, and the professor all loaded into a bus and headed to Ravenna. In case you didn't know (I know I sure didn't), Ravenna was the last capital of the Western Roman Empire. It was chosen for its location, which is very safe because of the water. It is also the site of the world's most impressive mosaics. 

Our first stop was the church of San Apollinaro Nuovo, a beautiful church with twelve columns, a ceiling dating back to 17th century, a floor that has been raised due to sinking floor, and the widest mosaics in the world dating back to the 5th century. Mosaics, we learned today, began as floor art, but in Ravenna in this particular church, the images they wanted to portray (of apostles and Christ and Mary, etc.) were sacred, so they really didn't want people walking on them. Mosaics are made of bits of glass, cut with a tiny little hammer. The colors are natural, and since they are the colors of the glass and not painted, they last forever without being restored. Gold was also widely used in these mosaics, and they way they did that was by sandwiching gold leaf between two pieces of glass. Then, these "tesserae" were assembled to make the pictures, in such a way that there was as much texture as possible, which makes them catch the light in a very remarkable way. These pictures don't do it justice, but here is the church.

The outside of the church. Traditional Christian architecture privileged the inside of the church rather than the outside, as the church is analogous to humans, whose souls are immortal while their bodies will die. The building is made of bricks, because Ravenna like other areas in this region is filled with clay but doesn't have much stone for building. 

First glance at the interior of the church. You see on the left and right the mosaics of the saints (women on the left, men on the right), and above them, you have prophets, and above them, scenes of the life of Jesus Christ. 

Look as much as you want, you won't find a crucifixion scene in this church or others that predate the 5th century. Apparently, these churches prefer having empty crosses symbolizing Christ's suffering, but don't ever depict him on the cross. 

After this church, we went to another one, which is important because Dante is buried there. The church had a name, which I've forgotten already since the guide told us that everyone just calls it "la chiesa di Dante" (Dante's church). This church is sinking, much like the entire city of Venice (apparently it's a pretty common problem), and the alter is actually filled with water. 

There are goldfish swimming in the water, but it's hard to see from the picture. It was a very creepy sensation, looking into this room. The water was incredibly still. 

Behind the church is Dante's tomb. In 1317, this father of the Italian language whose Divine Comedy essentially created the Italian language as we know it today and began popularizing writing in the vulgar, everyday spoken language rather than Latin. In Ravenna, he wrote Paradiso which, according to our guide, was largely inspired by the mosaics. Dante died of malaria in his 50's I believe, in Ravenna, and was buried there. He has a tomb in his hometown of Florence, but it's empty. I got pictures of it, but they're on my actual camera, so I'll have to wait to get home to post them on the blog. 

The piazza of Ravenna is adorned with two columns which were from Venice. Venice was quite powerful back then, and had a lot of influence on Ravenna. This was because of the importance of salt. 


Finally, we saw San Vitale, the most famous church in the city and the little mausoleum behind it, both of which are uninteresting on the outside and spectacular on the inside. San Vitale is the most complete church in Ravenna, in that it is the only church there with its original dimensions. Despite its gigantic size and detailed mosaics, it only took about 22 years to build. Our guide playfully added that nowadays in Italy, you couldn't even get the permission to build it in that time. So, not bad! 

It's octagonal, based on the Byzantine architecture but demonstrating an interesting blend of both sides of the ancient Roman Empire. Central plan, eight-sided building, six meter dome with frescos dating to the 18th century, whereas the rest of the church is much, much older (fourth or fifth...I can't remember exactly). Emperor Justinian organized the project, though he never actually set foot in Ravenna. He's depicted in the mosaics. 

Justinian mosaic, with the assistant who actually did help with the church (Maximianus) depicted prominently. 

This is the inside of the surprisingly beautiful mausoleum behind San Vitale. 

Empty cross instead of a crucifixion. 

Christ is a shepherd. Who knew? Just kidding. This is directly over the entrance to the mausoleum. 

After lunch in Ravenna, we headed back to the bus and drove up a mountain to San Marino. San Marino, like Monaco, is an independent little country within another country. It is apparently the oldest republic in the world that still uses its original constitution, but did I mention it's on a mountain? The views were worth the drive, and all we really did there was have an aperitivo while admiring the Italian countryside from this non-Italian little country. 

The blue all the way at the back is the Adriatic. Yes, we were so high up, we could see it!

Finally, we headed back to Urbino and ate dinner at an adorable family-style restaurant outside of the city. So much food, and now I'm stuffed and ready for bed. Delicious though!

We started with prosciutto, melon, and various cheeses. The rest of the meal was if anything, even better: various pasta dishes for first courses, various meat dishes with sides for the second courses, and cake for dessert. Si mangia bene in Italia! 













Friday, July 5, 2013

Addendum to the last post

Whoever stole my shampoo just returned it. Strange. 

Moments in Tridente

Instead of writing a long post that is carefully structured about a specific topic dealing with life in Urbino, I'm just going to write a few random comments. I'm tired, and have to wake up very early tomorrow to take a trip to Ravenna and San Marino. But hey, studying abroad isn't about having a plan, doing structured and well-thought-out activities; it's about taking in everything around you, from the writing on the dorm room walls to the way Italian girls like to wax their legs at the kitchen table in front of other male and female students. So, here goes... 

1) There is lots of writing on the walls here. At first, I thought it was incredibly trashy to be writing on walls, but I saw it as a learning experience. It's interesting seeing what Italian students feel the need to write on the walls, what they consider to be leaving their mark on this dorm building. It's also helpful to me, because I get to see improper Italian, their abbreviations, etc. Anyway, here are a few examples:


This is the wall in the kitchen. The green at the top says: "The block of the princesses," so I guess I'm a princess! Makes sense, since I did work in a castle back in Paris. The pictures are pasted to the walls, and you can see the writing on various other bricks. 

This is in the block across the hall from mine. Pazzo (the only non-English word in this writing) means crazy. 

EAT! MANGIA! Nani used to say this to me. 

2) Privacy issues: Italians seem to be very public. They don't care what they look like in these public spaces of our block. Girls walk around in bras and underwear, dry/straighten their hair at the kitchen table (which, to be fair, is the only place you can, since the other outlets don't fit those types of plugs), and more. They're loud, boisterous, hilarious, and as long as you're not too concerned about doing work, I suppose they're really great company. If I were doing my PhD here, I doubt it would turn out very well...

An anecdote: yesterday, I was sitting in the kitchen with Anna Maria and Viola. Viola was studying for her English test on Shakespeare and publicity (it was today, by the way, and she got a 25/30!) and asking me to explain the play Titus Andronicus. An Italian guy came in halfway through (I think his name is Francesco, but I can't remember...lots of names in the last few days) and sat down to listen to my telling of the most violent play in theater history. It was a good test of my Italian, since I had to say things like: "They raped her, then cut off her tongue and hands so she couldn't tell anyone who did it...Titus then killed Tamora's sons and cooked them into a pie and fed them to their mother." This whole time, I might add, Anna Maria was waxing her legs. Even with the guy there. And no one seemed to find it strange. At one point, Viola thought it would be a good study tactic to use the phone in the kitchen to call a random person and chat in English. So she says on the phone: "Hello. You speak English? Let's talk about Shakespeare!" Apparently, that is the kind of studying that gets good grades here. 

When Anna Maria was done waxing, a song they liked came on the radio, and they started singing it. Viola took a broom and used it as a microphone, and it was quite the spectacle. I wish I had taken pictures. To paint a better picture, Viola is the tiniest girl you've ever seen. Short, thin, short hair (dark brown), just very small over all. She is really energetic, studies English at the Università d'Urbino but admits that she can barely say anything, and she is from Puglia! So, she's probably related to me. Or knows someone who is. Anyway, she finished her performance and asked if I knew any Italian music. I said I was a major fan of Jovanotti, and so the three of us started singing "A te" in the kitchen. I'm sure the door was open, and everyone in the whole "braccia 2" could probably here us, but it didn't seem to matter at the time. I think I'm becoming one of them, and I might like it...

The close quarters and Italian habits do lead to a lot of notes, though. Here's one: 

REMEMBER to wash what you make dirty. And even if you don't want to do it for YOURSELF do it anyway for the OTHERS. 

Someone left an equally funny note in their bathroom cabinet that said something to the extent of: I can't believe I have to keep buying my own toilet paper because people steal mine all the time. It's ridiculous—they give us free toilet paper every Monday and Friday. I suggest you go to the main desk and get some. 

I thought this note was pretty funny. We have bathroom cabinets, most of which don't lock. And I was just robbed today. Someone stole my shampoo but left my conditioner. I'm actually quite annoyed. I just bought that shampoo, and it's not like it was a particularly good one. Petty theft=Italian from now on for me. I think I will start this stereotype and I won't rest until the entire world believes all Italians are pathetic shampoo thieves the way the entire world believes that all French people are smelly. 

3) Aperitivi: an Italian tradition of finger foods with an alcoholic beverage, to prep you for dinner and/or going out. We had two yesterday. One at the caffè degli amici that Davide and Luca prepared, and another that the Italian students in the dorm organized for us to help celebrate Independence Day. For the first, the professors here woefully misinformed the students. People sat for about an hour before I decided to ask Davide if we could have some of the food. Everyone just assumed they would bring it to us if we ordered drinks. The majority of the students also didn't understand that we had to pay for this. Since we get a free breakfast every morning, I guess they figured being told to come for an aperitivo would be paid for by Rutgers as well. Guess not. 

The one with the Italian students was also fun, and also not free. They had a punch bowl filled with spritz, which made me happy. I love spritz (aperol and prosecco, bright orange cocktail), which I discovered by accident last summer during my two hours in Ventimiglia. I wanted a spremuta (freshly squeezed orange juice) and asked, and the woman told me I was mistaken and wanted a spritz, which she said was "molto buono, buonissimo." I told her I really thought the word was spremuta, the juice with the oranges. She insisted, and I ordered a cocktail instead of orange juice. Boh, vabbè, at least I tried a new drink. 

4) Language progress: 

Two nights ago, I had a little "wine party" with the Tulane girls, played fuze ball (no idea if I'm spelling that right...) with Italians and lost pathetically, helped Viola study English, then went to bed. That night, I dreamed in Italian!!!! I italicized it because it's really cool. I dream in French, especially when I'm in France, but I've never dreamed in Italian before! 

The Tulane girls at our wine party on the roof. 

When I noticed my shampoo was stolen tonight, I found myself thinking in Italian!!! Of course, as with the first time that happened in French, the second I realized it, my brain switched back to English. But at least I know I'm thankfully making the same progress I made in France but significantly faster. Which is good, since I have 6 weeks instead of 6 months this time. 

5) Quest to discover my Italian heritage: 

Step 1: The professor for the second half of my course here is a Rutgers graduate student named Marino. I found out he was from Puglia, near Foggia. I was chatting with him about Foggia, and how my great grandmother was from a little town near there, and he suggested I go there after the program is over! He said he could find us a ride, since he'll be heading there as well. 

Step 2: I ask every Pugliese I meet if they've heard of Accadia. None have. 

Step 3: Last night, in a bar, I meet a Pugliese (a girl Pugliese) named Antonella. Super sweet, super complimentary of my Italian, and she introduced me to a delicious new drink called ruma e pera, which is a shot of rum followed by a shot of pear nectar (no alcohol in that). The cool pear nectar really cancels out the rum, and it was delicious! Anyway, that's off topic. Antonella is from Foggia it seems. And she has heard of Accadia. She said she's heard Accadia is cute, but she said Foggia is the ONLY ugly part of Puglia, which is otherwise the most beautiful part of Italy according to her. 

Step 4: This morning, I met an Italian while waiting for the rest of the group to head to breakfast. He was Pugliese, from near Bari, and he actually has a friend from Accadia. But get this, his friend's last name is FERRO!!! That was Nani's maiden name! His friend could be related to me. Seems probable. I haven't seen him since, and don't remember his name, but I will definitely be on the lookout so I can find out. 

6) Pizza:

Here's a picture of pizza to end this post. Why not? 



Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Cantautori

PS: I got into a little fight with two Italian girls. When I told them I loved Jovanotti, they were thrilled. Everyone does, apparently. And they added: "he's also really gorgeous." And I said: "Well, he was when he was younger. Now that he's pushing 50, he's not as good-looking." They laughed for about five minutes until they realized I wasn't kidding, and then the argument started. Fun times! 

Italian dorm life

Last night, I couldn't sleep. At first, it was because there were students setting off firecrackers directly inside my window. That was a bit annoying. I felt like I was in front of a firing squad. Then, it was because the mattress was unbearably uncomfortable. I barely got any sleep last night, but was still able to talk more than anyone else in class. Though, the professor is a lecturing type, which is fine because I enjoy that type of class; but also a bit disappointing, since I want to be speaking as much as possible to improve. Tonight, I've flipped the mattress over, and just sitting on it, I can feel a huge difference. I don't think I'll have much of a problem. 

The Urbino dorm was apparently designed by a famous architect. I don't know his name, but he must be an Italian Frank Lloyd Wright, since the way he designed this "collegio" to fit into the countryside is brilliant. The part I'm living in is called "tridente" and, no surprise, is shaped like a trident. Three prongs, each descending down the mountainside. The reason I have such a great view is because it's designed that way. Everyone has a great view! The room itself is pretty standard as far as dorms go, but it does have a very clever system of moveable shelves. The door handles don't turn, if you want another fun fact. They have a little button on top that allows you to open and close them. A student's space here consists of the bedroom, a cabinet in the bathroom, a cabinet in the kitchen, and just another cabinet outside the room for more clothes. I don't have enough clothes here in Europe with me to make use of all the space they've given me, which is definitely impressive. But there is one very impractical aspect to this room: the view is very distracting. 

The location of my room according to Google maps. 

This was what I saw from my window tonight when I sat down to do my reading for tomorrow's class. As you can imagine, it was hard to concentrate with that intense beauty in front of me, so I headed over to Gabriella's room (she's a Tulane student who's in my literature course) and the two of us went to work at the Caffè degli amici where we have breakfast every morning. 

My first Italian prof, Sara (from Venezia *insert rowing motion here*), told me that the best part of the whole program was this Caffè and Davide and Luca, the two men who run it. Well, this morning, I realized why. They are the two friendliest, nicest, and most helpful people I have ever seen. We order in Italian, they chat with us while making the coffee, and they already know me by name. Luca stole my hat, and when I called him out on it, he was like "boh!" So, I informed him it was a French hat, and he gave it back immediately. Tonight, I asked Davide if it was too late to order a spritz (an Italian cocktail), and he said it's never too late, and that I'm his new favorite person because I like spritzes! 

I got back to the dorm and there were tons of parties going on. The Italian students are leaving soon (on the 12th...), and they're constantly celebrating birthdays and completed exams apparently. They gave me gelato instead of letting me go to bed, and I was fine with that because they were all extremely happy speaking Italian with me! They all say they don't speak English, not even the ones who say they're studying English, which is a bit silly. They're all extremely impressed that I speak three languages, which is a bit strange for me, since I'm used to being the one impressed by Europeans' language skills. They are all so friendly, so quick to compliment your Italian no matter what level you're at, helpful if you don't know a word, and they NEVER switch to English or act snobby like French people. They also are apparently jokesters—when someone gets their "laurea" or undergraduate degree, they make them walk through Urbino with the "laurea" (laurels) on their head. Then they push them into the fountain (for which they don't get fined, because it's a special occasion—if they weren't wearing the laurea, apparently they'd get fined). When someone gets a dottorato, they have to do various other silly things. Today, we saw a newly awarded PhD student who had to wear a box on her head that was designed to look like a TV, and then recite something for a table, who then sang her a song. Then, apparently, they were going to head to the fountain and push her in.

After I left the party, I took my first shower in the dorm, and it was NOT as bad as people said. Actually, it might be the best dorm shower I've ever seen. Acceptably clean, there's a place to put your toiletries, a chair in the locked portion with the shower where you can put your keys/clothes, and the door didn't get stuck like they said some do. The water heat/pressure was excellent, the students were all out on the patio eating gelato, so I had the whole bathroom to myself. All in all, I'd say between the view and the amazing company (the Italian students...the American ones all went out to party together, and are probably still out speaking English right now), this dorm experience is ideal for studying abroad for such a short time in Italy! 

And for some pictures: 

A "laurea" procession. The person with the laurea is behind the guy in the blue shirt. Sorry...I didn't want to be rude and act like a tourist to get the good picture. 

My class is in a high school, and there's an actual crucifix on the wall! 

Creepy clock store in Urbino. 

The basilica



One entrance to the ducal palace 

Just a pretty church

Okay, I'm going to bed since I have to wake up at 7:30 again. Hopefully tonight I'll sleep better now that I've "fixed" the mattress. 








Monday, July 1, 2013

Urbino: pros and cons

Pros: 

1) The weather is pretty cool at the moment. I'm not the slightest bit uncomfortable because of the heat, which I wasn't expecting after last summer in Avignon.

2) My view. If you don't believe me, here is a picture I snapped quickly from my window when I got here: 


3) The Italian students in my wing of the dorm: they are so sweet. They carried my suitcase up three flights of stairs, and think my Italian is great, and love New York, and are just all-around friendly. One girl just knocked on my door, apologized for interrupting what sounded like a phone conversation, but wanted to let me know they're spraying for bugs tonight so I shouldn't leave the windows open. I love that she felt the need to apologize for telling me urgent and important information. 

4) The caffè where I'll be eating breakfast: the guy who owns it, Davide, seems so nice! He recognizes this year's group of professors, hugs them, chats like it hasn't been 5 years since he last saw them. 

5) Class size: 4 people in my class, including me. So 3 other people. That's a lot of Italian speaking! Plus, 3 hours per day! 

6) This town: it's so hilly, and adorable, and there are NO TOURISTS. 

Cons: 

1) It's in the middle of nowhere. So, if I want to go on trips during weekends, there will be major traveling involved. 

2) The other students in the program seem to speak English all the time. Maybe it's just because they're severely jetlagged. We'll see I suppose. 

3) Communal bathroom: and apparently if you close the door all the way when you're showering, the wood expands and you could get stuck inside. But, since the other girls in this wing seem so sweet, I doubt sharing a bathroom will be much of a problem. Besides, it's clean enough. My "apartment" last year in Avignon was worse. 

4) This dorm room: it's small, none of the things that are supposed to lock actually work (except for the main door), there are no hangers, and someone has written all over the walls. There's a squished spider on the ceiling, and there is only one outlet. The internet seems sufficient so far, but they were also a bit intimidating in our orientation about making sure we lock our doors at all time. Apparently, people have gotten things stolen in the past. 

Strange quirk:

1) My key has a block of wood attached to it. Not sure why...


Also, that is a face of a weary traveler who is the least tired of anyone in the group. Time for bed, given I have to wake up early tomorrow for class. Ciao!