Roman Holiday

Ah, Rome. What a wonderful place. I have fallen in love with this ancient city; its ancient churches and ancient streets. For an extended four day weekend my classmates and I went to Rome. Because we went with our school the hotel became a giant American invaded apartment and the days began at 8:15 with walking tours of Rome. We saw churches, statues, galleries, fashion and the Pope! I am always so grateful that my school provides us with these tours because I would never pay for a tour on my own. But then I would have never known that Michelangelo's first painting was the Sistine Chapel or that he was "very gay. very, very gay," or that the Pope who commissioned it was dissatisfied. 

I could write a book with all of the attention grabber phrases that Italians use to talk to Americans. I heard some new ones in Rome, however. The waiter in front of his ristorante proclaimed, "This is a place." But he said it more like "This." "Is a place." Normally we ignore them but this time we couldn't resist. "It is," we all agreed "it is a place." No more words were needed to describe this man's restaurant except his acknowledgment of its existence. Our tour guide, Peter, had the best of any Italian. (We even started recording him so that we could listen to it later.) To summon us he would call, "Beautiful children! Beautiful children!" And the statues of goddesses or saints were always "the second most beautiful ladies" after us, of course. He taught us that Russell Crowe must redo Gladiator with such and such improvements, and that George Clooney was to meet us in the chapel. While walking down the streets he would enter every bookstore we passed and at breaks he would encourage us to get a Heineken. 

And even though I loved to see all of these historic features of Rome, my favorite time in any city is when I go off on my own and explore with no agenda. Saturday afternoon most of my friends had field trips with their classes. I took advantage of this time to discover the culture of Rome. First I went back to the Piazza of the Basilica of St. Peter (where the Pope does his thing) and sat on the cobble stone, against a statue, and wrote on the back of an old postcard. While I sat there, the sun got warmer and warmer. (I haven't had much time in the sun since I left the states because it has been so rainy and the high buildings block direct sunlight on all the streets.) I could feel the rays changing my mood and energy and outlook on life. It was literally like taking a shot of happiness. Even after I filled up every corner on my postcard I wasn't ready to leave the sun, so I sat there with my eyes closed until I had had my fill. When I finally got up, I slowly walked around the streets near St. Peter's; popping into shops and bookstores. I bought a skirt and started a new book. Three hours later it was time to head back to the hotel to meet up with my friends for dinner but before catching the train I had a taste of Roman gelato. I've got to admit, best yet. I am trying to taste every flavor. This time I got half melon and half cherry. With my gelato in hand and rosy cheeks I blurted out to no one, "I love Italy."

Snowing in Assisi

Last Friday Kelly Ann Brauch-Denyer (my best friend since fourth grade who is also here in Florence studying) and I went to Assisi. We left on a train from Florence and got to Assisi around 5.00. Neither of us had ever been or had any clue where to go. When we left the train station we could see the historic part of Assisi inside its walls on the hill. 

History note: After the fall of the Roman Empire city-states began to spring up around Italy. The safest place for a city at the time was on a hilltop surrounded by walls. So as you travel through Italy look at the hills and you will find stone walls with packed houses and shops inside them. 

So, without any definite plans, Kelly and I started walking toward the hill. Forty-five minutes later we were within the walls searching for a hotel. Now I know it's not tourist season but it was RIDICULOUS how many places were closed. We were starting to get worried that we wouldn't find a hotel before it got dark. And it was Valentine's Day Weekend! Finally we found a beautiful hotel in the square that was reasonably priced. Both Kelly and I were exhausted from the long hike and the dramamine we took on the train so we decided to take a nap while we waited for the restaurants to open. (Restaurants are only open here when they want to be. So if you decide that you want to eat dinner at 5.00 you had better be willing to make it yourself.) An hour later we woke up and went to dinner at a small restaurant around the corner. The food wasn't the best but the atmosphere was fun with about 20 people there celebrating carnival with masks and costumes. After dinner we ran over to a sweets shop and bought three things to split. One was a short bread cookie dipped in chocolate (amazing!!!), the second was a chocolate tube coated in bits of wafer or cookie with melted chocolate inside (even better!!) and the third was like an eclair but with solid icing in the middle instead of cream (not so great.) 

Saturday morning started early. We knew to visit the Basilica of Santa Claira and St. Francesco but weren't sure what else there was. So, with the help of the travel map from the hotel, we made a loop around Assisi and visited both churches and one fortress. My favorite parts of the churches were the frescos and the stained glass. I love stained glass!! And the fortress had a really high tower we climbed with an amazing view of the city. 

We had to make it back to the train station by 3 so after a warm lunch we started the walk back to the country. It was already cold but on our walk it started to SNOW! I couldn't believe it. I had NEVER thought of SNOW in Italy. It just hadn't occur to me. It was like thinking of it snowing in Hawaii. Who would think of that?

To finish our day, Kelly, myself, and our friend Kelli made dinner at my apartment and then went out for drinks. All in all, the best Valentine's Day Ever!

Dave

It is still raining here in Florence. It's actually kind of ridiculous how predictable the weather has been so far. Every time we go somewhere (London, Siena, Venice, Florence, etc.) it is always beautiful and sunny the first day and then rains almost every day after that. But it should stop by Monday.

My classes are incredible! All of my professors are animated and passionate about their subjects. In Italian we are practicing verbs which describe everyday activities like waking up, going to work, and taking the bus. Although I was never a star student in French, my impulse is always to respond to his questions in French.  I seem to have this urge a lot. My landlord lives half the time in Paris and speaks fluent French. He had asked us a couple of questions in Italian the first day and I responded in French. So he continued in French and started asking me more questions. Although I could understand him I could only respond to him in Italian! Now I feel for my little cousins who live in this melting pot of languages.

Have I mentioned that I live across the street from the David? Yeah, the one by Michelangelo. The one that is supposed to embody a perfect man. Of course it is in a museum BUT the front door of the museum is about ten feet from my front door and I have a free pass to the museums. We're pretty tight now. It's neat. 

The Italian Man

I have developed a prejudice. An Italian man, while working, can be considered cute, charming and, on a few occasions, attractive. But once that same Italian man steps onto the street he is a sketch ball. All of you who expressed dreams of me meeting and falling in love while in Italy I shall prove wrong! It is natural for me to smile when I make eye contact with someone I don't know. I'm not talking about a "so glad to see you," teeth showing smile. I just mean a small grin that says "I see you" and "life is good." In the states, most people return with the same smile or a small wave. But in Italy, a man takes this to mean "come and get me!" An officer came and talked to our group the first day about safety guidelines and how to deal with the "aggressive" Italian. He told us the best way to ward off the guys is to completely ignore them. Don't make eye contact, don't smile, and don't say anything. Well, I am here to say that that is very hard! Simple curiosity makes you look at who is talking to you. But I am getting better. So much better, in fact, that I now ignore any guy. Last night a guy asked my friends and I "have you been watching the superbowl?" as we were walking home from watching the super bowl... It took a few seconds for it to register that he had said that with an American accent and after a quick glance that he was, indeed, an American. (I don't know why that makes him safe but my prejudice isn't a science) Well, it turned out that he goes to school at University of Idaho where my little brother goes and knows one of my childhood friends. Small world, hu? 

All this to say, I'm in Florence and I love it so far!!!