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