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.