Monday, September 29, 2008

French Riviera- Warning: Just because there is a beach-doesn't make it the Bahamas.


French Word of the Post: Bonjour! (Hello in French)

At 4 on Thursday I was sitting in Italian class. Two Italian worksheets, one train, and five hours of Entourage later I was in the French Riviera. Would I call my first impression glamorous? No. Would I call my first impression stunning? Not even close. We arrived at our two star hotel at 1:30 AM and my thoughts were all scattered as we walked into a hole in the wall hotel in the middle of a side road—similar to the kind of side road you would find on the outskirts of Providence. I crawled into my bunk bed and said good night to my friends hoping that the days to follow would be more glamorous and stunning—and they were. The only piece that didn’t match up to expectations was the weather. I thought that I was heading to the French Bahamas, when really I was heading to the French Rhode Island—a very upscale Rhode Island with similar weather patterns. Just because there was a beach (a beautiful beach none-the-less ) doesn’t mean it is always going to be the most pleasant of weather.

The weekend consisted of going to bed late, waking up early, eating, shopping, relaxing, drinking coffee, learning the basics of a new language, learning that French people don’t really like American people, and enjoying the general atmosphere of the French Rivs.

On Friday, we headed down to the Nice Beach. The beach in Nice, where we were staying, was a beach made of rocks instead of sand. The water causes the rocks to turn different colors. Along the coast, you can see people getting ready to go parasailing, others laying out, and others enjoying drinks at the local restaurants.

Following our beach experience, we found a little Greek restaurant where we each got

kebabs and had french fries…real FRENCH fries.

On Saturday, we headed out to Caanes. There, we stood on the red carpet that is rolled out for the Caanes film festival, checked out the beach, and the watched the ships and sailboats out on the Mediterranean.

After Caanes, we headed back to Nice to sit down to nothing short of an awesome dinner. The deal was 16.50 Euro for a starter, an entree, and a dessert. I tested out their nicoise salad, the fried calamari, and the most amazing Apple tart ever. My friend gave the mussels, rabbit and spaghetti, and caramel cream a taste test, and our two other friends made a go at the goat cheese salad, fried eggplant, and apple tart. No one was dissatisfied.

On Sunday, we woke up early to check out a breakfast spot that we had seen in previous days. The place was called Glacier. There, you sit outside facing the street, not one another, and watch the people on the streets.

You can learn a lot about people by just sitting and watching.

We then headed down to the Promenade to find the waterfall that other people in our tour group has climbed on Saturday. On our way to the waterfall we found a very happening market with fruits, flowers, artwork, bread, pastries, fish, and jewelry. We lost each other a few times in the maze of inexpensive goods. I was in absolute awe of all the people who
were conversing, all the things that were being sold, and all the commotion in general. It
was absolutely insane. When we were finally able to get out of the market we found the waterfall which brought with it the best view of Nice in the Rivs. It was so calming and relaxing.

It was the perfect way to end our weekend vacation, because five hours of
Entourage, one train ride, and one cab ride later, we were back in Rome—our three month vacation.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Beginning of Roman Life

Well-I am finally in Rome, and the culture shock has hit. Things here are much different than they were in Florence. For instance, people talked slowly to us in Italian there--where as here, people just talk and talk and talk and then get angry when we don't understand.

We also had our first lesson in Roman grocery shopping today. When Italians go to the super market they don't buy in bulk like us Americans do--they like to buy three items for dinner that night--and that's that. Probably a good thing too. We had to walk a mile back to our apartment with our groceries. I will never take having a car for grocery shopping granted--ever again.

Rome is much much bigger than Florence, and I must say I am a little overwhelmed. Classes begin tomorrow--and the weekend went way too quickly. however we have found our coffee spot. Cappucino and Cafe latte's = amazing.

This weekend we found our way to a few plazas, had our first metro experience, first tram experience, and held onto our purses tightly. We also went on a short monumental tour of the city. We saw the Pantheon (coolest, oldest building ever), the fountain, and the Spanish steps. We even saw a wedding letting out of a Roman church.

We also went on a search for a gym. Gyms are not the same here, as they are in America, and the prices are clearly way different as well. Most gyms here run at 60 EURO a month...that is 90 US dollars approx. You would think these gyms would be absolutely amazing, however they are tiny and underground. We found one for 35 EURO a month and we plan to check it out in the next few days, so hopefully it wont just be a treadmill surrounded by four block walls.

So as the Roman life begins, so does my newest journey. I can't wait to see what is to come.

Ciao

Saturday, September 20, 2008

A City Underwater

Word of the Post: Mare (Sea)


Venice. A city underwater. This was our weekend vacation, and underwater it was. We arrived to the beautiful Venice on Friday afternoon (the 12th). We were welcomed by sunshine and dry paths. By 4:00 it was thunder storming and the paths were flooded. Despite the rain, the boats still ran. In Venice, no one drives cars or vespas because the Adriatic Sea runs throughout the entire city—so you will notice taxi boats!

The sun eventually came back out and we were able to go have a dinner right on the water in a setting that felt just like a movie. We ordered two bottles of wine (for 8 of us), got some pizza, and just discussed how awesome it was to be where we were sitting.

The following morning we woke up to sunshine but less than three hours later a thunderstorm began to brew and didn’t stop until midnight—fourteen hours of absolute downpour.

Our last day consisted of intervals of sunshine and rain. By the time we left, I wondered how every building hadn’t one down like the Titanic in this city underwater.

Even with the rain though, Venice proved to be just as amazing as all the other places we had seen. Much less chaos surround Venice—probably because you don’t have to avoid crazy vespa drivers and slow walking pedestrians. The streets are lined with stores filled with jewels and tiny cafés. The city itself is filled with small bridges in order to get around. And the water is filled with boats. We were even lucky enough to get a free five minute gondola ride.

Our trip to Venice included seeing several churches and museums. My favorite museum was the Scuola Di San Rocca. I am convinced that I have museum and church ADD—I find it extremely hard to listen to the professors about all the stories (Probably because as a child I was dragged into many museums by my parents), but something about this museum really made me pay attention. I found two paintings that I found myself in awe of. One was “Christ Healing the Paralitic” by Tintoretto and the other was “St. Francis di Paola resuscitates a dead child” by Sebastiano Ricci.

The first of the two, was a painting that seemed to be filled with all this sadness but alongside there was a ray of hope (in this case Christ). All around you see dull colors meshed together as a symbol of devastation. People are suffering from lepracy. They just need hope and the painting symbolizes that hope is there. People aren’t looking at this ray of light that is right in front of them. They are looking away waiting for that light. It seems it is there even though no one seems to know it. The painter communicates with the onlooker that there is always hope and that there is always a way even if we don’t know it. There are no bright colors in the immediate focus of the painting, wounds are showing, and people are holding one another. However, in the background there is a tiny piece of the painting filled with a blue sky and sunlight—another symbol of hope.

The second painting is different from the first however one idea is similar. There is pain and healing, but this time people can see the ray of light that has come to them. As St. Francis brings a dead baby back to life, people are looking on. The colors are brighter, and the wounds of those in the painting are covered up. They can feel the hope and see it. Hands are reaching out. Good things are coming to those in the painting, and they know it.

The day following this museum tour, we went and saw St. Marks which is filled with mosaics that just stand out like a sore thumb. One part was made of simply just gold. We then were going to go to the palace, but the weather rained on our parade (literally).

The last day we visited the Guggenheim collect which is a collection of modern art.

One last thing that I can tell you about Venice is that I had the best cup of cappuccino ever. The server made the milk from a heart shape—those creative Italians.

Venice, while rainy was simply the most calming place that we have encountered thus far. Compared to Florence, it was ten times less hectic (and compared to Rome one hundred times less hectic)—it was nice not to have to play Frogger across roadways—but instead walk over tens of bridges a day and listen to the sounds of the sea hitting the coast.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

The Statue Of David

Word of the Post: Statua Grande (Big Statue)


They tell you that pictures are forbidden. But we happen to sneak pictures when we can. Grazie to Terry

Wine Tasting 101






Word of the Post: Vino Rosso e Vino Bianco (Red Wine and White Wine)







Wine tasting in Chianti, con
sisted of getting many tastes of many wines:







Cinque Terre


Word of the Post: Cosi sei serio? (Why so serious?)

The word of the post actually has nothing to do with today’s entry, but I thought it was worth posting. Today in class we learned many popular adjectives and the word serious was one of them. I was then asked to give a sentence using this adjective. I decided to go with The Joker’s signature phrase. It got a few good laughs from the class.

Sunday about fifty of us went to the beautiful Cinque Terre. Cinque Terre is approximately 2 hours from Florence. In Cinque Terre there are five towns. We started our trip by taking the train from an outside town to the first town of Riomaggiore. From there, we walked along the “Via Dell’Amore” (The path of love) to the second town named Manarola.

When we arrived at Manarola we were set free to do as we pleased. We could have either walked along the trail to the following three towns, or taken the train to the town we wished to go see. Our group decided that hiking a little bit would be a great idea. Our little bit of a hike turned into an 8 mile hike along the Terranio Sea. …an uphill hike along the Tyrrhenian Sea.

During our walk from Manarola to the third town we were greeted by a step’s course. In one portion of the trail we walked up a set of 382 steps. How is that for a work out?

We then continued along the trail. After reaching the third town, we decided to continue our hike onto the third town named Vernazza. This happened to be the most beautiful town that we encountered. This was the type of town that you would think of if you were to envision in your mind traditional Italy. Here, there were clothes hanging out windows, people crowding the streets, the smell of pizza coming from vendors along the path, and colorful townhouses lining the roads. Absolutely beautiful.

From here, we took the train to the last town—Monterosso. Monterosso was where the beach was located. There, we were able to go swimming, lay out, and just relax. The sea here was the saltiest water I have ever encountered, and the tide was slightly rough (too rough to go cliff jumping like most of us had hoped to do). I made it out to a point where I could still touch the ground with my feet, and then my friend Lance told me that I was missing out and against my will grabbed my arm and dragged me out to sea where I couldn’t touch the ground. After hiking 8 miles it was safe to say that we were tired so we immediately swam back into land and got changed, before catching the last train back to our bus.

Cinque terre is by far the most beautiful thing I have seen yet. Here, the water was clear blue, the landscaping was simply amazing, and the towns were absolutely worth seeing. I just wish I had, had more time to spend along the beautiful sea.

Look at how blue the water is:


Ciao

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Dancing Shoes

Word of the Post: Sono stanca (I am tired).

When I was five years old I took ballet. I don't remember much besides the ridiculous outfits or the shoes. Today, I stepped into a dance studio for the first time in fifteen years. I didn't have to wear the shoes...or the ridiculous outfit, but I did have to put my feet to work.

Today consisted of a cultural icebreaker. For the cultural ice breaker, we went to a dance studio to learn a type of dance called Pizzica Pizzica. We danced for NINE hours. Last night we went dancing for four hours. Let's just say in the last 18 hours I have danced my little feet away.

The Pizzica Pizzica is a slow or fast dance that is used in the Italian culture. In Pizzica Pizzica you can't touch other people at all. You must form your own bubble and find your own space. You can then join bubbles with others, so long as nothing touches. We learned how the men appropriately approach the women, how to dance only on the balls of our feet (OUCH), and how to do several different dance moves. I personally learned why Italians are so darn skinny.

The nine hour event began at 9:30 AM. About forty of the seventy members of our AIFS group attended, but by the end of our lunch break only 13 of us remained. The beginning of the day was just basic steps, and everyone was beat from their night out before it seemed. The second half of the day proved to be a lot better when the group was so small and intimiate. During the second half we did more one on one dancing, and talking. We learned that during these dances you must only talk with your eyes. "The eyes are the window of the soul." Regardless of barely being able to talk to one another with our voices, the thirteen of us that were left felt as though we knew eachother better than we could have ever if we sat in a room and talked for nine hours.

The activity itself, though tiresome, was the best experience that I have had so far. It really was my first cultural activity, and I got to learn about a lot of different people in our group. It helped to break the wall that people put up when they get to a new place. When the day started, we were all embarrased and self-conscious but by 6 o clock tonight we were all open with one another and we didn't care how bad we danced or how long we had been there. We all were tired, but those of us that remained pushed through and got the most out of a day that we could have given up. As the dance teacher said --pizzica pizzica will always be a part of us.

Ciao

Monday, September 1, 2008

Uscita

Word of the Post: Uscita-Exit

The word of the day resembles two very important points in my life since I have been away from home. One. It represents my exit from London to Italy. And Two. It represents the first Italian word I learned when I got to Florence. It was the first word I saw when I got off the plane. Not before long my friend Nino (who is from New York but will be studying in Italy for two and a half years) was teaching me more and more words. Everything I see, Nino tells me what it is in Italian. It is like having my own Italian tutor—it is great (except I haven’t managed to cling onto many words yet—except pane de burro (buttered bread)).

Other than learning my first word when I got off the plane, I experienced my first culture shock. The difference between London and Italy, was now that people could not understand me, and I could not understand them. Not being able to communicate with people is very hard, and my first conversation with an Italian was very rough—with a twelve year old girl.

As I leaned over to grab my field hockey sticks off the baggage wheel a little girl standing next to me said “HOCKEY?!!?” And I said “Si, Si.” She responded by trying to ask me what kind… I could not tell if she was Spanish or Italian at first so I began to speak broken Spanish (what I had left from high school), and it didn’t go too well. Her dad stepped in and eventually we could get a little conversation going. The little girl and I talked about field hockey and the types of sticks we have, and how she has been playing for a while. It was a struggle, but it worked—and I had my first Italian conversation experience. The first of many.

London Bridges Are Falling Down


Word of the Post: Expensivo

London is the New York City of America. It is the heart of England. It is expensive, and big. It is amazing. But—not amazing enough to want to spend a semester there spending money every night.

However, between the mini pub crawl on night one, and our experience of an English club on night two, we were able to experience the city in its highest light—by touring and getting to see some amazing places. However, the best part of the day was when our group of ten missed our bus taking off from a tour spot. It was then that we got to experience London on our own. We went for a short lunch, strolled around to different parts of the city, and then came across what is called “London’s scariest attraction”—The London Tombs.

The London Tombs starts off as a historical journey through the building and rebuilding of the London Bridge, and ends with a twenty minute haunted house. At first I was a little sketch on going inside, but after the first room of the historical journey I was convinced that this was worth the 10 pounds that we each had just paid. It was my first history lesson of the trip.

The London Bridge that stands now is the 4th bridge to stand. The first one was taken down early on during the Roman Empire, and then a fire took down a large portion of the second one. London then had a third tower built, but when they felt that it wasn’t doing enough, they put it up for auction. An American bought the bridge thinking it was the Tower Bridge that was across the way. When he realized it wasn’t, he didn’t mind and he had each brick taken down and shipped to Arizona where they reconstructed it. It still stands there today. Not too long later, in the 1970’s London built it’s fourth version of the bridge—and that is the one that stands today. There you have it my first piece of historical information from this wonderful trip.

Other things that I learned along the way in London:

  1. Don’t give the peace sign—here in Europe it is there version of the middle finger.
  2. Leave the club early—so you make it back without worrying if you’ll miss your bus to the airport for your flight to Florence.
  3. Cab drivers in England will take all your money and trick you and tell you that you haven’t given them enough
  4. Everything here is not only expensive—it is VERY expensive.
  5. Though we didn’t eat in any, and all we used were the bathrooms, the McDonald’s here could be considered upscale restaurants—seeing as there were grand stand pianos and chandeliers bigger than my freshman dorm.

Ciao