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...

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. 

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! 

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! 

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?