Last night, I didn't get to bed until well past midnight.
This morning, I woke up not feeling well.
When I heard my host father moving around, making coffee in the breakfast nook we have upstairs, I stuck my head out my bedroom door, told him I didn't feel good, and wanted to stay home from school. He was fine with it, and I went back to bed.
I fell back asleep, and was woken up about an hour later by my host mom, who instructed me to call her if there were any problems, or if anything got worse. I assured her everything would be fine, and promptly returned to sleeping. About an hour later, Annie walked into my room. I sat up, startled, and she gasped, not knowing I was still home. Thursday afternoon, the family stays at the grandmother's house for lunch and dinner, so usually Thursday is her day off. After explaining to her why I hadn't gone to school, she told me she was going out for the afternoon, and wanted to know if she needed to leave a pre-made lunch out for me. "No, thank you," I said "I can cook." Annie looked a little surprised and said "You can?" Indeed I can.
After she left, I dozed off for another hour or so, but woke up at 10, and then read until 11.
So, given the rest of the day with the house completely to myself, I figured it would be a perfect opportunity to finish those essays. I got dressed, and decided to clean my whole room, so nothing would distract me from the writing. I find disorder very distracting.
By the time I had my room spick and span and completely organized, I was hungry for lunch. I made myself a lovely bowl of pasta, and had salad with cheese. Then I remembered there was ice cream in the freezer, which was a lovely treat.
After lunch, I sat down at the computer, and started to write.. Of course, I got distracted by reading other blogs, and talking to Andrew on AIM. He gets to go home in a couple of days, the lucky duck.
The day wore on, I wrote, edited, called my mom more than once for writing advice, had a small meltdown, and finally, FINALLY, finished the two remaining essays. Mom has looked over them, and recommended I make some changes, but they will be easy ones to make (I hope) and I can do that tomorrow. What a relief to be [almost] done with it all.
And tomorrow's Friday! After tomorrow is Saturday, which means I'll be on my way to Milan, because Sunday, we're going to Venice! I can't wait!
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
La Stanchezza
The title means "The Tiredness" just so you know.
I'm posting late tonight, the reason being we had guests over for dinner. They arrived at 9, and we started eating at 9:15. No one in Italy believes that sometimes, in America, we eat at 5:30 in the "afternoon."
This morning, even though I went to bed at 10:30 last night, it was incredibly difficult to get out of bed. My alarm went off at 6:30, but I didn't get up until 7:10, when I heard Luca's alarm go off. All Luca does in the morning is roll out of bed and get dressed, so I knew I was in trouble. I managed to get all of my morning things done, and had time to eat breakfast before the carpool came to pick us up.
Nothing happend in school worth mentioning. I got halfway through the book mom sent me.
At noon, Luca Capodiferro, my Rotary counselor, came to pick me up from school. I go to Rotary meetings about once a month, to smile and shake people's hands. I'd say half the club (it is a big club) still doesn't know why the heck a young blonde chick is at their meeting. Usually, the food at the meetings is spectacular. Today, it was rather plain, but still good. We had pasta with tomato sauce and peas, which I have never had before. I can't say I'd ever put peas in pasta myself, but it wasn't bad. Then we had beef cooked with rosemary, and plain potatoes. For dessert (we always have dessert at Rotary meetings. Maybe that's why I like going..) we had creme caramel. Although it was good, I must say the French do it better with their creme brulee. After we ate, a woman gave an endless presentation on a dam that is being built in Varese. I didn't really understand all of it, but at the end, she asked if anyone had any questions, and somehow, two very old men got into a typical Italian, red-faced, hand-waving argument. It was kind of entertaining.
Luca Capodiferro took me home. I think this is the first time I've ever been at this house before 5 o'clock on a weekday. The house was quiet, the only sound the occasional hiss of the iron coming from the laundry room, where Annie, the colf, was doing laundry. The weather today was nasty, after the week of beautiful blue days we've had. This morning, it was drizzling, and when I got home today, it was frigid and gray and misty. The house was cold, too, so I put on [yet another] sweater, and curled up with a blanket on my bed to read. I ended up finishing the book my mom sent me, while nibbling on Andes mints. It was the perfect way to spend a cold and nasty afternoon.
After I finished the book, I got on the computer to write those darn essays.. I got halfway done with one, and called my mom to ask her a question about writing. Only, halfway through dialing the numbers, I completely forgot why I was calling her. We talked for about 5 minutes, then she had to go. I still don't have the slightest recollection why I called her. I spent the next hour having a friendly argument over AIM with one of my friends, and then Rotary called.
Maria Grazia, one of the coordinators for the 2040 Youth Exchange, was calling to ask about my school trips, and if I was going on the trip to Venice. I told her I was absolutely planning on coming to Venice, and she asked how I was planning on getting to the train station at 7:30 Sunday morning. Uhh.. I had assumed Alberto Protasoni was going, and that he would take me. Turns out, Alberto can't make it, and I've got to find another way of getting to Milan. As for the school trips, evidently I need my Permesso di Soggiorno. I (Giovanna, my old host mom, rather) filled out the papers my first week here, and it never came in. None of the American student's permessi have arrived, but I'll need it to go to Switzerland. I hope Rotary can figure things out!
I went back to my room and read a different book that my mom sent in a different package, until dinner at 9:15. Like I said, we had guests over, the couple that we went to France with for the fondue. We had a very heavy dinner, consisting of tortellini in broth, roast beef, prosciutto crudo, bresaola, fried artichokes, carrots, various kinds of cheese on crackers, salad, chocolate and pear cake with ice cream, and finally, fruit. We ate all of these things in courses, and I'm stuffed! The cheese course was interesting, because I've discovered after trying gorgonzola a couple of different times, I've developed a taste for it. We had two kinds of gorgonzola, one made with mascarpone, one without. Both were good. Then we had cheese that you eat with oil and pepper, and cheese that tasted like thickened sour cream. The cake was odd, but it had chocolate in it, so it's OK in my books!
Tomorrow, there's a party at Bea's school, and she wants me to come. Oh, I forgot to write that on Tuesday, when I went to her school, she made me sing the states song to the class. The teacher liked it, and asked me to write out all the states, so the class can learn the song too. I wrote out all the states, in alphabetical order, but when I counted at the end.. there were 49. I could not, for the life of me, remember the 50th state, so I went on a hunt through the school for an atlas. Would you believe that in an elementary school, there are no world maps? Or maps of the United States? Or atlases, even? I asked one of the students, and he showed me the only map in the whole school, a little yellowed wall hanging of Italy. In my search for a map of the U.S., I found books titled "I Nostri Tempi" or "Our Times." The year, written right under the title: 1989. I never realized how much I appreciate my almost brand-new highschool.
By the way, the state I forgot was Oklahoma.
And now, it's past 11 here already, so I'm off to bed!
I'm posting late tonight, the reason being we had guests over for dinner. They arrived at 9, and we started eating at 9:15. No one in Italy believes that sometimes, in America, we eat at 5:30 in the "afternoon."
This morning, even though I went to bed at 10:30 last night, it was incredibly difficult to get out of bed. My alarm went off at 6:30, but I didn't get up until 7:10, when I heard Luca's alarm go off. All Luca does in the morning is roll out of bed and get dressed, so I knew I was in trouble. I managed to get all of my morning things done, and had time to eat breakfast before the carpool came to pick us up.
Nothing happend in school worth mentioning. I got halfway through the book mom sent me.
At noon, Luca Capodiferro, my Rotary counselor, came to pick me up from school. I go to Rotary meetings about once a month, to smile and shake people's hands. I'd say half the club (it is a big club) still doesn't know why the heck a young blonde chick is at their meeting. Usually, the food at the meetings is spectacular. Today, it was rather plain, but still good. We had pasta with tomato sauce and peas, which I have never had before. I can't say I'd ever put peas in pasta myself, but it wasn't bad. Then we had beef cooked with rosemary, and plain potatoes. For dessert (we always have dessert at Rotary meetings. Maybe that's why I like going..) we had creme caramel. Although it was good, I must say the French do it better with their creme brulee. After we ate, a woman gave an endless presentation on a dam that is being built in Varese. I didn't really understand all of it, but at the end, she asked if anyone had any questions, and somehow, two very old men got into a typical Italian, red-faced, hand-waving argument. It was kind of entertaining.
Luca Capodiferro took me home. I think this is the first time I've ever been at this house before 5 o'clock on a weekday. The house was quiet, the only sound the occasional hiss of the iron coming from the laundry room, where Annie, the colf, was doing laundry. The weather today was nasty, after the week of beautiful blue days we've had. This morning, it was drizzling, and when I got home today, it was frigid and gray and misty. The house was cold, too, so I put on [yet another] sweater, and curled up with a blanket on my bed to read. I ended up finishing the book my mom sent me, while nibbling on Andes mints. It was the perfect way to spend a cold and nasty afternoon.
After I finished the book, I got on the computer to write those darn essays.. I got halfway done with one, and called my mom to ask her a question about writing. Only, halfway through dialing the numbers, I completely forgot why I was calling her. We talked for about 5 minutes, then she had to go. I still don't have the slightest recollection why I called her. I spent the next hour having a friendly argument over AIM with one of my friends, and then Rotary called.
Maria Grazia, one of the coordinators for the 2040 Youth Exchange, was calling to ask about my school trips, and if I was going on the trip to Venice. I told her I was absolutely planning on coming to Venice, and she asked how I was planning on getting to the train station at 7:30 Sunday morning. Uhh.. I had assumed Alberto Protasoni was going, and that he would take me. Turns out, Alberto can't make it, and I've got to find another way of getting to Milan. As for the school trips, evidently I need my Permesso di Soggiorno. I (Giovanna, my old host mom, rather) filled out the papers my first week here, and it never came in. None of the American student's permessi have arrived, but I'll need it to go to Switzerland. I hope Rotary can figure things out!
I went back to my room and read a different book that my mom sent in a different package, until dinner at 9:15. Like I said, we had guests over, the couple that we went to France with for the fondue. We had a very heavy dinner, consisting of tortellini in broth, roast beef, prosciutto crudo, bresaola, fried artichokes, carrots, various kinds of cheese on crackers, salad, chocolate and pear cake with ice cream, and finally, fruit. We ate all of these things in courses, and I'm stuffed! The cheese course was interesting, because I've discovered after trying gorgonzola a couple of different times, I've developed a taste for it. We had two kinds of gorgonzola, one made with mascarpone, one without. Both were good. Then we had cheese that you eat with oil and pepper, and cheese that tasted like thickened sour cream. The cake was odd, but it had chocolate in it, so it's OK in my books!
Tomorrow, there's a party at Bea's school, and she wants me to come. Oh, I forgot to write that on Tuesday, when I went to her school, she made me sing the states song to the class. The teacher liked it, and asked me to write out all the states, so the class can learn the song too. I wrote out all the states, in alphabetical order, but when I counted at the end.. there were 49. I could not, for the life of me, remember the 50th state, so I went on a hunt through the school for an atlas. Would you believe that in an elementary school, there are no world maps? Or maps of the United States? Or atlases, even? I asked one of the students, and he showed me the only map in the whole school, a little yellowed wall hanging of Italy. In my search for a map of the U.S., I found books titled "I Nostri Tempi" or "Our Times." The year, written right under the title: 1989. I never realized how much I appreciate my almost brand-new highschool.
By the way, the state I forgot was Oklahoma.
And now, it's past 11 here already, so I'm off to bed!
Correction:
The package that arrived yesterday was not the one from my Grandpa.
It was the one Mom sent me.. back in early November. Well, it was nice to finally get it, I just hope the package that Grandpa sent me gets here before I depart for the U.S..
In the package there was a book, postcards of Washington, D.C., and Andes Mints! Thanks, Mom!
It was the one Mom sent me.. back in early November. Well, it was nice to finally get it, I just hope the package that Grandpa sent me gets here before I depart for the U.S..
In the package there was a book, postcards of Washington, D.C., and Andes Mints! Thanks, Mom!
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
World's Biggest Writer's Block
For some time, I've been working on applying to Simon's Rock, a college that accepts students who have not graduated high school.
From what the website tells me, Simon's Rock is the perfect college for me. Just go and take a look for yourself, you'll see what I mean.
I'm getting off track here. To apply, I have to write 3 essays: one about Aristotle, one about why I want to attend Simon's Rock, and a letter about an issue that I believe deserves greater public attention. The essay about why I want to attend is finished, ready to be sent off. The Aristotle essay is in the works, but this last essay is becoming a challenge. I've got nothing. Zip. Zilch. Niente.
I know I can do it, but all of the essays are due February 1st..
Aiuto!
P.S. Grandpa Smyder, I ran into my host mom today, and she told me your package came. She dropped it off in my school's office, and I'll pick it up tomorrow! Yipee!
From what the website tells me, Simon's Rock is the perfect college for me. Just go and take a look for yourself, you'll see what I mean.
I'm getting off track here. To apply, I have to write 3 essays: one about Aristotle, one about why I want to attend Simon's Rock, and a letter about an issue that I believe deserves greater public attention. The essay about why I want to attend is finished, ready to be sent off. The Aristotle essay is in the works, but this last essay is becoming a challenge. I've got nothing. Zip. Zilch. Niente.
I know I can do it, but all of the essays are due February 1st..
Aiuto!
P.S. Grandpa Smyder, I ran into my host mom today, and she told me your package came. She dropped it off in my school's office, and I'll pick it up tomorrow! Yipee!
Monday, January 28, 2008
In Fair Verona
This past weekend was absolutely fantastic. I got to see Kristen and some of the other Americans, whom I haven't seen for over a month! It's hard to believe how quickly time passes..
Friday
Friday, I was planning on taking the 3:00 train to Milano Centrale. Usually, I go to Milano Porta Garibaldi, but after the host family switch, Kristen lives closer to Centrale. My plans were to leave school at noon, like I usually do, go to church, stop at a bar and get something to eat, and then walk to the station. I always give myself plenty of time to go to the station, because I always get lost on the way. I've never arrived at the station the same way twice.
Like I planned, I left school at noon, and walked to the church, but was dismayed to see it was closed. The bar I had wanted to try was closed too. I went to a second bar, but the bartender told me they didn't have hot chocolate, so I left and went to a third bar. This bar, luckily, had hot chocolate. Only it was three euro, which I didn't know. After drinking the teeny cup of hot chocolate, I went to pay, and was shocked when the woman at the register told me how much it was. Now, you can find six euro hot chocolate in the touristy cafes in Milan, but prices shouldn't be inflated in my little city. I grudgingly paid, and without anything else to do, decided to make my way to the train station.
This time, it took me all of three minutes to get to the station. By then, it was one o'clock, and my train didn't leave until three. I texted Kristen, and she said I could come on an earlier train. The next train to Milano Centrale was at two, so decided to just wait on the platform. Tickets to Milano Porta Garibaldi are usually 3.50 euro. Again, I was surprised when I asked for a ticket to Milano Centrale, and the man at the ticket window told me it was 6 euro. Again, I sighed, shelled out the money, and went to wait on the platform. The minutes crawled by, and an old man kept coming over to ask me when the trian was coming. Finally, the train came, and before I knew it, I was in Centrale. There were no "Uscita" (Exit) signs, like there are in Porta Garibaldi, and I had no idea which way to go when I got off the train. It didn't help that I was the first one off, either. I looked around for a minute, then followed a group of people, until I found myself in the main part of the station. I walked outside, met up with Kristen, and we walked to the bus stop together.
I've ridden the bus in Monza before, but never have I ridden a bus as crowded as that one. After a few stops, it was a little less crowded, and I was able to breathe again. Kristen and I were having a good old time singing "Popular" from Wicked. A man, dressed in a nice trench coat, holding a briefcase, started singing along. We both looked at him, wide eyed, and he said "Wicked! Good show! America!" in a heavy Italian accent. We all laughed, and he started humming the flinstones theme song. His son was sitting in a seat near him, rolling his eyes, looking annoyed. Kristen and I got off at the next stop, and the man said "Bye!" and waved.
We walked to Kristen's house, dropped off our things, and decided to go exploring for something for Kristen's computer. We went to four electronics stores, but didn't find what she was looking for. She did, however, see a one of those dogs that you can plug into your iPod, and it dances and lights up and remembers your favorite music. Then she saw, on the display, that there was a penguin, too, this particular store didn't have it. We decided to go to Fnac, a huge media store near the Piazza del Duomo, which was a good 20 minute tram ride away. Fnac didn't have it either, so we wandered around, and decided to go back to her part of the city for dinner.
Kristen had seen a restaurant near her house that she wanted to try. It advertised Chinese, Italian, and South American food. We walked in, got a table, and the waitress brought over a menu. For Milan, the prices were really low, 2-4 euro per dish. We decided the dishes were probably really small, and ordered 5 or 6 things, to share. The watiress brought over full-sized meal after full-sized meal. Not all of the plates fit on our table. The food was good, though, and we finished what we could. After dinner, we walked back to her house, and passed the evening talking until midnight.
Saturday
Early Saturday morning, I was awoken by Kristen's alarm clock. I decided to ignore it, and continue sleeping, but Kristen badgered me until I got up. We groggily got dressed and ready for the day, and were about to go downstairs to find something to eat, when Kristen's host father told us it was time to go. We all got into the car, and after about 15 minutes of silence, Kristen pulled out her iPod. We shared the headphones until Kristen's host father told us we could plug it into the car, so we could all listen. For the next hour and a half, we listened to bad '80s music (according to Kristen, it was bad. I like '80s music, though) and the Beatles.
We got to Verona at about 9:00, had a pastry and some coffee in a bar, and figured out how to get to the center of Verona on the bus. As Kristen's host father was explaining how to get there to us, the bus we needed to take passed. We walked to the bus stop, looked at the schedule, and realized another bus wasn't coming for an hour. Busses run slowly on Sundays. We talked, the bus finally showed up, and we asked someone to tell us when we reached the center. They told us we had to change busses at the station. Oh, joy. Actually, it wasn't a big deal at all. We waited another 15 minutes for the bus, and asked the driver to tell us when we reached Piazza Bra. A few minutes later, we were there, in the picturesque center of Verona, looking at the Arena.
We spent the rest of the morning exploring the back streets of Verona. We found Romeo's house, we saw Juliet's balcony, Kristen bought a bag, and we stopped for some pastries. The day was absolutely beautiful, not too cold, but cool enough to need a coat. Verona is clean and colorful too, and I completely enjoyed the morning. At about noon, Kristen's host parents called, and told us to meet them near the fountain in the center. We met them, they showed us some of the sights we had missed, and we all went to a little cafe for lunch. We took the bus back to where they had parked the car, I was harrassed by some idiot, but Kristen's host mom told him off, which made me feel smug. I fell asleep on the car ride home, and woke up completely re-energized.
When we got back to Milan, we all went to Mass, then walked back to Kristen's house. We ordered pizza, and Kristen's father set up the home theater in the basement for us. Kristen and I watched "Across the Universe," one of her favorite movies. I didn't get as much enjoyment out of it as she does, but it was nice just to hang out, watching a movie, eating pizza. We went to bed late again, but we didn't have to wake up early Sunday morning.
Sunday
I woke up at 10:30, and Kristen was already awake. We went through the whole "whadda you wanna do? I don't know.." ordeal, before we decided to call David and Taylor, two of the other Rotary guys, and ask if they wanted to go to lunch. Plans were made to meet in front of the Duomo at noon, but the tram was late, so Kristen and I arrived twenty minutes late. On the tram, I asked Kristen if she liked Babybel cheese, which she had never heard of. When we got to the Piazza del Duomo, there were people dressed in cheese costumes, handing out samples of Babybel. We met up with Taylor and David, ate some cheese, then started walking towards the panzarotti shop. Panzarotti are like American calzones: mozzarella and tomatoes in dough. The panzarotti shop was closed, but David knew another place to eat.
We went to this restaurant, which was buffet style. It reminded me of those cafes in musems, where you walk around with a tray, wondering if the food tastes as good as it looks. I got lasagna, which was delicious. I also got a roll, and a pat of butter to put on the roll. It was the first time I've eaten bread and butter since I've arrived in Italy. Who knew Italians didn't put butter on bread? I thought that was a world-wide thing.
After lunch, we went and got dessert at the Tre Gazelle. I got Sacher torte, which is chocolate cake with chocolate mousse and apricot jam. It's quite good. Taylor got a cute little teacup made of chocolate, filled with gelato, and Kristen got plain old gelato. With nothing else to do, we decided to explore. We stumbled upon the artsy part of Milan, called Brera. It was a little bit like Verona, actually, clean and colorful, and pretty. Much to my delight, we also discovered a Mexican restaurant. Next time I go to Milan, that is going to be the first place I go.
The afternoon passed quickly, and before I knew it, I had to be on a train heading home. Kristen and I caught the tram back to her part of the city, and she did laundry while I packed my things. We took the tram and metro to Garibaldi, because the tickets cost less. I had hoped to take a 4:30 train home, but if I missed that one, there was another at 4:45. We arrived at the station at 4:30, and we went to buy a ticket.. only to discover that there was a strike, and the trains wouldn't run until 5. The next train to Gallarate would leave at 5:30. Kristen stayed with me, and we went to a cafe to get ice cream. Five-thirty rolled around, I boarded the train, and was on my way home.. but since the trains hadn't run all day, the train stopped at every single station on the line from Milan to Gallarate. It took twice as long as it usually does, but I got home alright, which is all that matters.
The weekend was thoroughly enjoyable, as it always is when I hang out with Kristen. Pictures will come soon, of course!
I hope everyone enjoyed their weekend as much as I enjoyed mine!
Friday
Friday, I was planning on taking the 3:00 train to Milano Centrale. Usually, I go to Milano Porta Garibaldi, but after the host family switch, Kristen lives closer to Centrale. My plans were to leave school at noon, like I usually do, go to church, stop at a bar and get something to eat, and then walk to the station. I always give myself plenty of time to go to the station, because I always get lost on the way. I've never arrived at the station the same way twice.
Like I planned, I left school at noon, and walked to the church, but was dismayed to see it was closed. The bar I had wanted to try was closed too. I went to a second bar, but the bartender told me they didn't have hot chocolate, so I left and went to a third bar. This bar, luckily, had hot chocolate. Only it was three euro, which I didn't know. After drinking the teeny cup of hot chocolate, I went to pay, and was shocked when the woman at the register told me how much it was. Now, you can find six euro hot chocolate in the touristy cafes in Milan, but prices shouldn't be inflated in my little city. I grudgingly paid, and without anything else to do, decided to make my way to the train station.
This time, it took me all of three minutes to get to the station. By then, it was one o'clock, and my train didn't leave until three. I texted Kristen, and she said I could come on an earlier train. The next train to Milano Centrale was at two, so decided to just wait on the platform. Tickets to Milano Porta Garibaldi are usually 3.50 euro. Again, I was surprised when I asked for a ticket to Milano Centrale, and the man at the ticket window told me it was 6 euro. Again, I sighed, shelled out the money, and went to wait on the platform. The minutes crawled by, and an old man kept coming over to ask me when the trian was coming. Finally, the train came, and before I knew it, I was in Centrale. There were no "Uscita" (Exit) signs, like there are in Porta Garibaldi, and I had no idea which way to go when I got off the train. It didn't help that I was the first one off, either. I looked around for a minute, then followed a group of people, until I found myself in the main part of the station. I walked outside, met up with Kristen, and we walked to the bus stop together.
I've ridden the bus in Monza before, but never have I ridden a bus as crowded as that one. After a few stops, it was a little less crowded, and I was able to breathe again. Kristen and I were having a good old time singing "Popular" from Wicked. A man, dressed in a nice trench coat, holding a briefcase, started singing along. We both looked at him, wide eyed, and he said "Wicked! Good show! America!" in a heavy Italian accent. We all laughed, and he started humming the flinstones theme song. His son was sitting in a seat near him, rolling his eyes, looking annoyed. Kristen and I got off at the next stop, and the man said "Bye!" and waved.
We walked to Kristen's house, dropped off our things, and decided to go exploring for something for Kristen's computer. We went to four electronics stores, but didn't find what she was looking for. She did, however, see a one of those dogs that you can plug into your iPod, and it dances and lights up and remembers your favorite music. Then she saw, on the display, that there was a penguin, too, this particular store didn't have it. We decided to go to Fnac, a huge media store near the Piazza del Duomo, which was a good 20 minute tram ride away. Fnac didn't have it either, so we wandered around, and decided to go back to her part of the city for dinner.
Kristen had seen a restaurant near her house that she wanted to try. It advertised Chinese, Italian, and South American food. We walked in, got a table, and the waitress brought over a menu. For Milan, the prices were really low, 2-4 euro per dish. We decided the dishes were probably really small, and ordered 5 or 6 things, to share. The watiress brought over full-sized meal after full-sized meal. Not all of the plates fit on our table. The food was good, though, and we finished what we could. After dinner, we walked back to her house, and passed the evening talking until midnight.
Saturday
Early Saturday morning, I was awoken by Kristen's alarm clock. I decided to ignore it, and continue sleeping, but Kristen badgered me until I got up. We groggily got dressed and ready for the day, and were about to go downstairs to find something to eat, when Kristen's host father told us it was time to go. We all got into the car, and after about 15 minutes of silence, Kristen pulled out her iPod. We shared the headphones until Kristen's host father told us we could plug it into the car, so we could all listen. For the next hour and a half, we listened to bad '80s music (according to Kristen, it was bad. I like '80s music, though) and the Beatles.
We got to Verona at about 9:00, had a pastry and some coffee in a bar, and figured out how to get to the center of Verona on the bus. As Kristen's host father was explaining how to get there to us, the bus we needed to take passed. We walked to the bus stop, looked at the schedule, and realized another bus wasn't coming for an hour. Busses run slowly on Sundays. We talked, the bus finally showed up, and we asked someone to tell us when we reached the center. They told us we had to change busses at the station. Oh, joy. Actually, it wasn't a big deal at all. We waited another 15 minutes for the bus, and asked the driver to tell us when we reached Piazza Bra. A few minutes later, we were there, in the picturesque center of Verona, looking at the Arena.
We spent the rest of the morning exploring the back streets of Verona. We found Romeo's house, we saw Juliet's balcony, Kristen bought a bag, and we stopped for some pastries. The day was absolutely beautiful, not too cold, but cool enough to need a coat. Verona is clean and colorful too, and I completely enjoyed the morning. At about noon, Kristen's host parents called, and told us to meet them near the fountain in the center. We met them, they showed us some of the sights we had missed, and we all went to a little cafe for lunch. We took the bus back to where they had parked the car, I was harrassed by some idiot, but Kristen's host mom told him off, which made me feel smug. I fell asleep on the car ride home, and woke up completely re-energized.
When we got back to Milan, we all went to Mass, then walked back to Kristen's house. We ordered pizza, and Kristen's father set up the home theater in the basement for us. Kristen and I watched "Across the Universe," one of her favorite movies. I didn't get as much enjoyment out of it as she does, but it was nice just to hang out, watching a movie, eating pizza. We went to bed late again, but we didn't have to wake up early Sunday morning.
Sunday
I woke up at 10:30, and Kristen was already awake. We went through the whole "whadda you wanna do? I don't know.." ordeal, before we decided to call David and Taylor, two of the other Rotary guys, and ask if they wanted to go to lunch. Plans were made to meet in front of the Duomo at noon, but the tram was late, so Kristen and I arrived twenty minutes late. On the tram, I asked Kristen if she liked Babybel cheese, which she had never heard of. When we got to the Piazza del Duomo, there were people dressed in cheese costumes, handing out samples of Babybel. We met up with Taylor and David, ate some cheese, then started walking towards the panzarotti shop. Panzarotti are like American calzones: mozzarella and tomatoes in dough. The panzarotti shop was closed, but David knew another place to eat.
We went to this restaurant, which was buffet style. It reminded me of those cafes in musems, where you walk around with a tray, wondering if the food tastes as good as it looks. I got lasagna, which was delicious. I also got a roll, and a pat of butter to put on the roll. It was the first time I've eaten bread and butter since I've arrived in Italy. Who knew Italians didn't put butter on bread? I thought that was a world-wide thing.
After lunch, we went and got dessert at the Tre Gazelle. I got Sacher torte, which is chocolate cake with chocolate mousse and apricot jam. It's quite good. Taylor got a cute little teacup made of chocolate, filled with gelato, and Kristen got plain old gelato. With nothing else to do, we decided to explore. We stumbled upon the artsy part of Milan, called Brera. It was a little bit like Verona, actually, clean and colorful, and pretty. Much to my delight, we also discovered a Mexican restaurant. Next time I go to Milan, that is going to be the first place I go.
The afternoon passed quickly, and before I knew it, I had to be on a train heading home. Kristen and I caught the tram back to her part of the city, and she did laundry while I packed my things. We took the tram and metro to Garibaldi, because the tickets cost less. I had hoped to take a 4:30 train home, but if I missed that one, there was another at 4:45. We arrived at the station at 4:30, and we went to buy a ticket.. only to discover that there was a strike, and the trains wouldn't run until 5. The next train to Gallarate would leave at 5:30. Kristen stayed with me, and we went to a cafe to get ice cream. Five-thirty rolled around, I boarded the train, and was on my way home.. but since the trains hadn't run all day, the train stopped at every single station on the line from Milan to Gallarate. It took twice as long as it usually does, but I got home alright, which is all that matters.
The weekend was thoroughly enjoyable, as it always is when I hang out with Kristen. Pictures will come soon, of course!
I hope everyone enjoyed their weekend as much as I enjoyed mine!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
If not France, then Verona!
Last night, instead of writing in my blog, I watched the movie "Juno." It's actually really good, and I'd recommend it.
Yesterday, suspicions that I've had for quite a while were confermed. The school that I'm attending didn't know I exist. I discovered this when I went to give some documents to the secretary, so that I could go on a field trip to France in March.
At the secretary's window, I ran into Giovanna, my old host mom, and Tuber, the professor who is in charge of all of the foreign exchange students. Which means me and Giovanna's daughter in the United States. I've never really met Tuber before, considering the English teacher has taken me under her wing. Anyway, Tuber is putting together the papers for me to go on the field trip, and he couldn't find any of my documents. Turns out, back in May of last year, Giovanna brought all of the documents to enroll me in school, somebody put them in a folder, and the folder left forgotten, in some corner.
After Giovanna told Tuber that she had brought all of my documents, he found the folder, and everything was supposed to be alright. But he found out that when Giovanna enrolled me in school, she enrolled me in the fourth year class. The second year class is the class going to France in March, the fourth year class is going to Geneva in May.
Tuber, who is rather strict and is always concerned with doing the right thing, pointed out to the President of the school that I am not part of the second year class. The president, before he knew that I'm enrolled as a fourth year student, didn't have any problems with me going on the trips with the first and second year classes. Now, due to beauracracy, I can only go on the trip with the fourth year class.
It doesn't make sense, does it? Matteo told me he'd go with me to talk to the President, and ask (very politely) why I can't go with the second year class. We'll see what happens, but I'll be disappointed if I end up not being able to go.
Another thing that doesn't make sense: my mom emailed me and told me she sent 5 packages, all at the same time.. but only 3 arrived. Where are the other two?? And my grandpa sent me an email asking if I ever received his package from Christmas.. uh oh. Who know's where that one ended up.
This weekend, my friend Kristen was supposed to sleep over at my house Saturday night. My host parents aren't going to be home, and they told me to invite a friend over. Kristen and I were going order in Chinese, and spend the evening watching movies in our pjs. But then, Kristen's host family told her they had planned on going to Verona (the town where Romeo and Juliet takes place) and Kristen wanted to go.. So her parents told her to invite me! Cool!
I'll take the train Friday afternoon to Milano, and Saturday morning (haha! I get to skip school on Saturday!), Kristen and I are going to wander around Verona, quoting Shakespeare. In the words of Kristen, it's going to be obscene, and I'm going to take a lot of pictures.
Yesterday, suspicions that I've had for quite a while were confermed. The school that I'm attending didn't know I exist. I discovered this when I went to give some documents to the secretary, so that I could go on a field trip to France in March.
At the secretary's window, I ran into Giovanna, my old host mom, and Tuber, the professor who is in charge of all of the foreign exchange students. Which means me and Giovanna's daughter in the United States. I've never really met Tuber before, considering the English teacher has taken me under her wing. Anyway, Tuber is putting together the papers for me to go on the field trip, and he couldn't find any of my documents. Turns out, back in May of last year, Giovanna brought all of the documents to enroll me in school, somebody put them in a folder, and the folder left forgotten, in some corner.
After Giovanna told Tuber that she had brought all of my documents, he found the folder, and everything was supposed to be alright. But he found out that when Giovanna enrolled me in school, she enrolled me in the fourth year class. The second year class is the class going to France in March, the fourth year class is going to Geneva in May.
Tuber, who is rather strict and is always concerned with doing the right thing, pointed out to the President of the school that I am not part of the second year class. The president, before he knew that I'm enrolled as a fourth year student, didn't have any problems with me going on the trips with the first and second year classes. Now, due to beauracracy, I can only go on the trip with the fourth year class.
It doesn't make sense, does it? Matteo told me he'd go with me to talk to the President, and ask (very politely) why I can't go with the second year class. We'll see what happens, but I'll be disappointed if I end up not being able to go.
Another thing that doesn't make sense: my mom emailed me and told me she sent 5 packages, all at the same time.. but only 3 arrived. Where are the other two?? And my grandpa sent me an email asking if I ever received his package from Christmas.. uh oh. Who know's where that one ended up.
This weekend, my friend Kristen was supposed to sleep over at my house Saturday night. My host parents aren't going to be home, and they told me to invite a friend over. Kristen and I were going order in Chinese, and spend the evening watching movies in our pjs. But then, Kristen's host family told her they had planned on going to Verona (the town where Romeo and Juliet takes place) and Kristen wanted to go.. So her parents told her to invite me! Cool!
I'll take the train Friday afternoon to Milano, and Saturday morning (haha! I get to skip school on Saturday!), Kristen and I are going to wander around Verona, quoting Shakespeare. In the words of Kristen, it's going to be obscene, and I'm going to take a lot of pictures.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
And yet..
At least half of my class smokes.
"Smoking Kills"
Dinner this evening was the highlight of my day. Marco was still at work, Matteo was at Nonna's, and Luca was at pallamano (handball) practice, so it was just Chicca and I. We had spaghetti with some strange sauce, I think it was olives, capers, and sardines. It was really salty, but good. I've had a personal vendetta against spaghetti since I came to Italy. The Italians were raised with it, and thus have spaghetti-twirling skills. This host family eats spaghetti nearly every night, and while they're twirling away, I sit there, struggling to get the hanging noodles onto my fork. I'm glad to say, though, that practice does help! I finished my bowl of spaghetti just a few minutes after Chicca finished hers, and there wasn't one single time when I needed to slurp the last noodle!
After my successful pasta episode, there was a surprise. Instead of having meat, like we always do, we had cheese. Annie, the colf, brought out a plate of cheeses. I ate goat cheese, cheese with holes in it, and stinky French cheese. I decided to skip the fruit course, as I've eaten enough fruit today, and was going to excuse myself when Chicca reminded me there was gelato.
Chicca buys gelato once a month, and she told me that if I didn't eat one today, the boys would eat it all before I got any. So, I finished the meal American-style, with a sweet instead of a fruit. It felt right. I was raised having desert after every meal, and I've gotten semi used to being deprived of it, but tonight I was reminded of my old habits. I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Have a Happy Tuesday!
*Editor's note: Every time I hit enter to insert a space between paragraphs, it doesn't show up when I post. Anybody know how to fix that?
Monday, January 21, 2008
They Came!!
After a week and a half of asking the colf if my packages came, she was finally able to say yes!
Here they are, three lovely envelopes..
And everything that was inside! Thanks, Mom!
Here they are, three lovely envelopes..
And everything that was inside! Thanks, Mom!Good thing they got here, too, because I was almost out of gum! And you know it's impossible to live without gum.
I went to the post office today, to send my mom a letter. Here's the [translated] conversation that I had with the nice man at the counter:
Me: Hi! I'd like to mail this to the United States, and I'd like to mail it fast!
Man: Ok, well you can.. (post office mumbo-jumbo)
Me: Eh? (Italians don't say "what?" or "huh?" They say "eh?" like Canadians.)
Man: To have someone deliver it into her hands, it'll be €42.70.
Me: Erm..
Man: Wait, let me explain the other option. For it to arrive in the same amount of time, but not have it delivered to her personally, it's.. €1.85.
Me: Well, I think I'll do that then!
Think about that.. A forty euro difference, and the letter will arrive in the same amount of time! That's just silly!
Ciao for now!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Well, It finally happened..
..I had an Italian meal that I didn't like.
Marco and Chicca had friends over for lunch today, so we had fancier food than we usually do. We had rice with seafood, which was good. It wasn't fantastic, like the meals here usually are, but it was good.
Marco and Chicca had friends over for lunch today, so we had fancier food than we usually do. We had rice with seafood, which was good. It wasn't fantastic, like the meals here usually are, but it was good.
Then came the second course. Foie Gras. Foie gras with scampi and caramel sauce. Marco and Chicca's guests raved about it, and took second and third helpings, while Matteo and I moved on to salad.
For dinner, however, we had pasta with ricotta, which was delicious. Today, Luca tried making budino. Budino is an Italian dessert, somewhere between pudding and jell-o. Only, the instructions said to bring the mixture to a boil, then remove it from the heat. Luca brought it to a boil, then boiled it, then boiled it some more, until half of the mixture was on the stove, instead of in the pan.
The budino ended up being rather small, but still tasty. Luca was proud that he had successfully cooked something.
I had an enjoyable day today. I woke up at about 10:30, but had nothing of importance to do, so snoozed until noon. After finally getting out of bed, I gave my room a much-needed tidying, and got dressed. By then, it was lunch time, and we ate from 1:30 until 3. Not having anything to do, I called Julia, and we talked for a while. After I got off the phone with Julia, I called my mom. That conversation lasted a good two hours, and by then, my host brother's had gone out for aperitivi, so the computer was free. I checked my favorite blogs, read the news, and by then it was dinner. It was a very easy, lazy day, much needed after all of these changes!
*Editor's Note: The English teacher asked me a few days ago to name an Italian food I don't like. When I told her there wasn't one, she seemed content. In school the other day, I told her I had an Italian meal that I didn't care for, she said "Oh!? What is it?" After I told her I had foie gras, she waved her hand and said "That's not Italian! It's French!" So evidently, I still haven't had an Italian meal I don't like.
Tomorrow is Monday, and that means back to school. I hope everyone has a good week!
Sto volando, Jack!
Tonight, I had the pleasure of watching "Titanic" in Italian. It all started when Federica's parents went to Sidney..
I don't know about you guys, but when my parent's leave me home for a couple of days, I'm not supposed to have a bunch of people over. In Italy, parents feel different about that. On more than one occasion, I've heard of kids throwing parties when their parents go out of town. In fact, my host brother's did it last week, when the parents and I were in the mountains.
Well, a few days ago, I walked into the fourth year classroom, and a girl named Federica had written "Saturday night, parents gone. Pizza at my house, feel free to bring alcohol" on the board. Well, this should be interesting! I thought. Since I didn't have any other plans, and I figured it'd be fun to see some of my classmates outside of school, I decided to go.
The rest of the day was a bit of an adventure, too. I decided to skip the gym, and I went straight to nonna's house after school. We ate lunch together, watched some TV, and I spent a good chunk of the afternoon writing emails. At about 5, Chicca came to pick Luca and I up. She dropped me off in the city center, and she and Luca went to Luca's pallamano (hand ball) game. I walked around, stopped in the church for a few minutes, then began my quest for moisturizer. I read in one of my travel books that you have to go to the farmacia for stuff like moisturizer. There are three in center, and I surveyed them all before choosing the one that looked like it had the nicest people in it. I walked in, not entirely sure what to do. When one of the pharmacists asked if he could help me, I told him I had very dry skin, (actually, I couldn't remember the word for skin. I might have told him I have very dry fur, instead, but I'm not sure) and needed something extremely moisturizing. He asked me to wait a moment, so he could go get the doctor. What the heck? All I want is some uber-moisturizer, I don't need a doctor! An annoyed-looking woman came over and said "dimmi", which is the command form of the verb "to tell". I repeated myself, she sighed, walked over to a display counter, snatched a little box, scanned it, snapped "nineteen-fifty", and slapped the box on the counter. Gulp. Nineteen-fifty? This had better be some great moisturizer. I reluctantly paid, took my purchase, and walked out. I don't plan on going back there again.
Seeing as I still had some time to kill before Mass, I was cold, and my throat is scratchy, I decided tea would be a very good idea. I stopped in a bar and got some tea, drank it, felt better, and walked to the church in the town center. I'll take some pictures of the church someday, it's pretty impressive.
After Mass, I walked to the library, where Mari picked me up. We went to Federica's house together, and about 3 minutes after we got there, the other Federica showed up. Out of the whole class, the only people who could make it were Federica the hostess, the other Federica, Mari, Lucia, and I. We all walked to a pizzeria, ordered pizza to take back to the house, and waited outside the restaurant. We had fun, talking about school and other things, when one of our teachers walked into the restaurant. Even after she had passed, everyone spoke in whispers, which I found to be entertaining. Finally, the pizzas were ready, and we walked the 50 feet back to Federica's house. We ate, drank, and were merry. After the pizza, we decided to watch Titanic, which was fun too.
I wasn't expecting to enjoy myself, considering it's usually awkward when I go out with people from my school. This time, though, I had fun. I was able to actually add to the conversations, understand everything, and even crack a few jokes!
Here's a poor-quality picture of the group, waiting for the pizzas:
And Federica, Lucia, and Mari eating cookies that Federica made:
It was a long, enjoyable evening. Now, it's one thirty in the morning, and I'm going to bed!
I don't know about you guys, but when my parent's leave me home for a couple of days, I'm not supposed to have a bunch of people over. In Italy, parents feel different about that. On more than one occasion, I've heard of kids throwing parties when their parents go out of town. In fact, my host brother's did it last week, when the parents and I were in the mountains.
Well, a few days ago, I walked into the fourth year classroom, and a girl named Federica had written "Saturday night, parents gone. Pizza at my house, feel free to bring alcohol" on the board. Well, this should be interesting! I thought. Since I didn't have any other plans, and I figured it'd be fun to see some of my classmates outside of school, I decided to go.
The rest of the day was a bit of an adventure, too. I decided to skip the gym, and I went straight to nonna's house after school. We ate lunch together, watched some TV, and I spent a good chunk of the afternoon writing emails. At about 5, Chicca came to pick Luca and I up. She dropped me off in the city center, and she and Luca went to Luca's pallamano (hand ball) game. I walked around, stopped in the church for a few minutes, then began my quest for moisturizer. I read in one of my travel books that you have to go to the farmacia for stuff like moisturizer. There are three in center, and I surveyed them all before choosing the one that looked like it had the nicest people in it. I walked in, not entirely sure what to do. When one of the pharmacists asked if he could help me, I told him I had very dry skin, (actually, I couldn't remember the word for skin. I might have told him I have very dry fur, instead, but I'm not sure) and needed something extremely moisturizing. He asked me to wait a moment, so he could go get the doctor. What the heck? All I want is some uber-moisturizer, I don't need a doctor! An annoyed-looking woman came over and said "dimmi", which is the command form of the verb "to tell". I repeated myself, she sighed, walked over to a display counter, snatched a little box, scanned it, snapped "nineteen-fifty", and slapped the box on the counter. Gulp. Nineteen-fifty? This had better be some great moisturizer. I reluctantly paid, took my purchase, and walked out. I don't plan on going back there again.
Seeing as I still had some time to kill before Mass, I was cold, and my throat is scratchy, I decided tea would be a very good idea. I stopped in a bar and got some tea, drank it, felt better, and walked to the church in the town center. I'll take some pictures of the church someday, it's pretty impressive.
After Mass, I walked to the library, where Mari picked me up. We went to Federica's house together, and about 3 minutes after we got there, the other Federica showed up. Out of the whole class, the only people who could make it were Federica the hostess, the other Federica, Mari, Lucia, and I. We all walked to a pizzeria, ordered pizza to take back to the house, and waited outside the restaurant. We had fun, talking about school and other things, when one of our teachers walked into the restaurant. Even after she had passed, everyone spoke in whispers, which I found to be entertaining. Finally, the pizzas were ready, and we walked the 50 feet back to Federica's house. We ate, drank, and were merry. After the pizza, we decided to watch Titanic, which was fun too.
I wasn't expecting to enjoy myself, considering it's usually awkward when I go out with people from my school. This time, though, I had fun. I was able to actually add to the conversations, understand everything, and even crack a few jokes!
Here's a poor-quality picture of the group, waiting for the pizzas:
And Federica, Lucia, and Mari eating cookies that Federica made:
It was a long, enjoyable evening. Now, it's one thirty in the morning, and I'm going to bed!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Changing
My father wrote me a lovely little email today. I was reading it with a warm fuzzy feeling, giggling at his spelling errors (just kidding! sort of) when I came upon the phrase "..and Mom made homemade macaroni and cheese with ham for dinner..."
Oh dang. Macaroni and cheese. One of my favorites, especially during cold weather like this. It's so warm and filling and savory.. And my pain-in-the-neck father had to go and remind me of it. Just like the time I was feeling content to be in Italy for Christmas, and Andrew mentioned buckeye balls.
Then, I realized I wasn't fighting back tears. Two months ago, even two weeks ago, reading about my family, my favorite foods, the fire in the fireplace, and the homey atmosphere in general would have sent me in search of tissues. In fact, it was just the opposite. I was laughing, happy to be reminded of the wonderful things I'll be coming home to in 6 short months.
The past four months here have been really tough. I've had some of the best times of my life, but also some of the worst. There have been times when I was surrounded by people, but at the same time felt like a complete outsider. I could go from feeling estatic to melancholy to goofy to desperate in thirty seconds flat. All of these things are normal for exchange students, or so I'm told.
But these past two weeks, I've been really content with my life here. I've stopped crossing days off the calendar, stopped wishing I could call my mom and talk for hours, and have woken up, looking foreward to the day. Well,that one's not exactly true. When I wake up, I yell at my alarm clock for waking me up, then go back to sleep for another 15 minutes.
It seems like such a drastic change. In the beginning, not a day went by that I didn't second-guess myself, and wish that the days would fly by. Finally, I'm happy to be here. I like living in Italy, I like my school (for the most part) and I know that my family, my friends, cheddar cheese, and brownies will all still be there when I come back. It's so nice to feel at home here, but I'm afraid it's just another one of the exchange student phases.. I hope it's not!
Oh, and Dad? The first thing I want to do when I get home is go out for Mexican. My flight will probably land sometime in the afternoon, so by the time we get back to Woodbridge, it'll be just about dinner time.. and I won't have had good Mexican for a whole 9 months!
Oh dang. Macaroni and cheese. One of my favorites, especially during cold weather like this. It's so warm and filling and savory.. And my pain-in-the-neck father had to go and remind me of it. Just like the time I was feeling content to be in Italy for Christmas, and Andrew mentioned buckeye balls.
Then, I realized I wasn't fighting back tears. Two months ago, even two weeks ago, reading about my family, my favorite foods, the fire in the fireplace, and the homey atmosphere in general would have sent me in search of tissues. In fact, it was just the opposite. I was laughing, happy to be reminded of the wonderful things I'll be coming home to in 6 short months.
The past four months here have been really tough. I've had some of the best times of my life, but also some of the worst. There have been times when I was surrounded by people, but at the same time felt like a complete outsider. I could go from feeling estatic to melancholy to goofy to desperate in thirty seconds flat. All of these things are normal for exchange students, or so I'm told.
But these past two weeks, I've been really content with my life here. I've stopped crossing days off the calendar, stopped wishing I could call my mom and talk for hours, and have woken up, looking foreward to the day. Well,that one's not exactly true. When I wake up, I yell at my alarm clock for waking me up, then go back to sleep for another 15 minutes.
It seems like such a drastic change. In the beginning, not a day went by that I didn't second-guess myself, and wish that the days would fly by. Finally, I'm happy to be here. I like living in Italy, I like my school (for the most part) and I know that my family, my friends, cheddar cheese, and brownies will all still be there when I come back. It's so nice to feel at home here, but I'm afraid it's just another one of the exchange student phases.. I hope it's not!
Oh, and Dad? The first thing I want to do when I get home is go out for Mexican. My flight will probably land sometime in the afternoon, so by the time we get back to Woodbridge, it'll be just about dinner time.. and I won't have had good Mexican for a whole 9 months!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Oh, these Italian schools..
I'm going to keep this entry short, as I really want to get to bed before 11 tonight! This cold has sucked all of the energy right out of me, but that's besides the point.
Something happened in school today that's been bothering me all day. I was in Geography, only we didn't do Geography today. The Prof started the class by explaining that the students would recieve their pagelle, or report cards, today, but was immediately sidetracked by me. She asked what grades were like in the United States, which led her to ask what the classes are like, which led her to tell me to stand in front of the class and explain the Prince William County school system. Ack, I'm going off on a tangent again!
Towards the end of the class, when I was finished describing my school, Prof began handing out the report cards. She called each student up to the front of the class, read their report card out loud, gave it to them, and they returned to their seat. She also commented on their grades, sometimes giving her [most likely unwanted] opinion that they could do better. The class clapped when the girl with the best report card went back to her desk. A little while later, Prof called up a different girl, the girl with the classe's worst report card. She read each subject, followed by the grade the girl got in that particular subject, and always emphasized when the girl received an "insufficient." When Prof was finished reading the report card, she started scolding the girl in front of the whole class. She actually told the girl she should be ashamed of herself. When the girl got back to her seat, she burst into tears.
Now, in Italy, grades aren't private. Evidently, it's normal for the teacher to read the report cards in front of the whole class. But isn't humiliating a girl like that going a bit too far? High school is hard enough, without cruel teachers. Granted, schools in Italy are completely different from the U.S., with different methods, different subjects, different everything, but shouldn't students, no matter what country they're in, be able to look up to teachers as role models? Prof seemed to get pleasure out of reading the girl's bad grades, and I can't understand why. Teachers are supposed to want their students to do well, to learn, to understand, and clearly that's not Prof's goal.
The way that Prof acted today really bothers me. I'll probably re make my schedule tomorrow, and I think I'll change most of the classes that I have with her. I don't want to be around someone who get's pleasure out of hurting others.
On a happier note, the sun came out today! The temperature wasn't warm, but it wasn't bitterly cold, either. By the time I got out of school, most of the puddles had dried up, too! Yay!
Something happened in school today that's been bothering me all day. I was in Geography, only we didn't do Geography today. The Prof started the class by explaining that the students would recieve their pagelle, or report cards, today, but was immediately sidetracked by me. She asked what grades were like in the United States, which led her to ask what the classes are like, which led her to tell me to stand in front of the class and explain the Prince William County school system. Ack, I'm going off on a tangent again!
Towards the end of the class, when I was finished describing my school, Prof began handing out the report cards. She called each student up to the front of the class, read their report card out loud, gave it to them, and they returned to their seat. She also commented on their grades, sometimes giving her [most likely unwanted] opinion that they could do better. The class clapped when the girl with the best report card went back to her desk. A little while later, Prof called up a different girl, the girl with the classe's worst report card. She read each subject, followed by the grade the girl got in that particular subject, and always emphasized when the girl received an "insufficient." When Prof was finished reading the report card, she started scolding the girl in front of the whole class. She actually told the girl she should be ashamed of herself. When the girl got back to her seat, she burst into tears.
Now, in Italy, grades aren't private. Evidently, it's normal for the teacher to read the report cards in front of the whole class. But isn't humiliating a girl like that going a bit too far? High school is hard enough, without cruel teachers. Granted, schools in Italy are completely different from the U.S., with different methods, different subjects, different everything, but shouldn't students, no matter what country they're in, be able to look up to teachers as role models? Prof seemed to get pleasure out of reading the girl's bad grades, and I can't understand why. Teachers are supposed to want their students to do well, to learn, to understand, and clearly that's not Prof's goal.
The way that Prof acted today really bothers me. I'll probably re make my schedule tomorrow, and I think I'll change most of the classes that I have with her. I don't want to be around someone who get's pleasure out of hurting others.
On a happier note, the sun came out today! The temperature wasn't warm, but it wasn't bitterly cold, either. By the time I got out of school, most of the puddles had dried up, too! Yay!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
It won't stop Raining!
Stepping out the door this morning, I was shocked to feel a drop of rain hit my forehead. It's been raining for the past 3 days straight, now. It rained a lot last week, too. I figured that we've gotten enough rain, and it should have stopped by now, bu it just keeps falling.
In school today, I did nothing. Really. I hung out in the library for a few hours, since I have yet to change my schedule to fill up the hours where I used to have tutoring. It wasn't bad, though, hanging out in the library. The library is really small, but warm and cozy, and the librarian is my favorite person in the school. We talk about our lives, and she alwasy seems genuinely interested in what I do, and how I'm feeling, which is nice.
This morning I didn't have time to make myself lunch, so after school, I bought a panino. The school's paninos are really good, and only 80 cents, so I get them every once in a while. I began my walk to the gym, in the rain, eating my panino. As I walked down the street, I noticed a car parked on the sidewalk (they do that a lot here) and a girl with an umbrella running towards me. It was Sara, a girl from the first-year class. She lives in the same town as I do, and offered me a ride home, so I didn't have to walk in the rain. I wasn't going home, so I thanked her and refused, but I thought it was really nice of her to offer.
I have to say that the first year students are by far the nicest of all the classes. Sure, the other classes are friendly, but there's something about the first year kids that's really open. They haven't become too socially conscious yet, and that makes me like them. In one class, a boy was nervous during an interrogation, and he started to cry. The other students comforted him, and we got on with the interrogation. Would that happen in the older classes? Sadly, I don't think so.
Anyway, halfway to the gym, I decided to take a detour to the post office. My mom sent me packages a week ago, and I looked online, and FedEx says it takes about a week for stuff to ship from the US to Italy. Last time my mom sent me something, I didn't pick it up in time, and it got sent back to the US, which I really don't want to happen again. I got into the post office, took my number, and waited 5 or 10 minutes. When it was my turn, I went up to the desk, just to ask if the man could check for me. He was confused, because I didn't have the little paper the post man leaves to tell you you have a package. Somehow, the man, who was actually very helpful, realized I live in Cassano, and he told me there was another post office in Cassano that I have to go to. Oops. I thanked him, and as I turned away from the desk, a woman came up and said, in English "Do you need some help?" I smiled and said "No, grazie!" and went on my way. Italians are helpful people, in general. My host parents often give me directions that include "when you see the.. ask someone, and they'll tell you."
I left the post office, and started the journey back to the gym. The streets in Gallarate are old. There are lots of pot holes, thus, when it rains, there are lots of puddles. I had forgotten the phenomenon of trucks creating walls of water when they pass through puddles, and I was reminded of it today. When I got to the gym, I, my backpack, purse, and gym bag, were all completely, totally soaked. I was a mess. I changed into my work out clothes, which were slightly drier than the bag they were in, and worked out a little. After I was finished, my pants were still wet, so I hung them on the hooks on the wall, and started drying them with the hair dryer. Usually, I have the gym all to myself, but a woman walked in, and looked a little shocked to see what I was doing. Oh well, they were wet, and I didn't want to wear wet pants all day.
After the pants were dry, I put them on, and walked outside to wait for Nonna, who was coming to pick me up. We returned to her house, where I dried out a little more by the fire, and we had a nice conversation. Well, not exactly nice, as it was about death. We talked about her mother, who died a few years back. She told me that it was her mother's time to go, and that death is a part of life, but I could tell she was holding back tears. I felt a little sad, so I changed the subject, and we talked for another hour about ragù.
Chicca came to pick me up from Nonna's house, and we went to pick up Matteo, then we came home. I've discovered that my room is the coldest room in the house. I went into my room, put on another sweather (right now I'm wearing a polo, a long sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and a fleece), curled up in the blankets on my bed, and red. Chicca called me for dinner, which was tortellini in broth, perfect for this cold, rainy weather. I skipped the meat course, and went straight to salad, of which I ate a copious amount. In Italy, we eat our salad with olive oil, vinegar, and salt. Try it sometime, it's actually really good.
Tomorrow, I have some classes that should be interesting, which I'm looking foreward to. I'm also waiting with baited breath for my mom's packages! Please pray that they get here safely, quickly, and that they don't get sent back home!
In school today, I did nothing. Really. I hung out in the library for a few hours, since I have yet to change my schedule to fill up the hours where I used to have tutoring. It wasn't bad, though, hanging out in the library. The library is really small, but warm and cozy, and the librarian is my favorite person in the school. We talk about our lives, and she alwasy seems genuinely interested in what I do, and how I'm feeling, which is nice.
This morning I didn't have time to make myself lunch, so after school, I bought a panino. The school's paninos are really good, and only 80 cents, so I get them every once in a while. I began my walk to the gym, in the rain, eating my panino. As I walked down the street, I noticed a car parked on the sidewalk (they do that a lot here) and a girl with an umbrella running towards me. It was Sara, a girl from the first-year class. She lives in the same town as I do, and offered me a ride home, so I didn't have to walk in the rain. I wasn't going home, so I thanked her and refused, but I thought it was really nice of her to offer.
I have to say that the first year students are by far the nicest of all the classes. Sure, the other classes are friendly, but there's something about the first year kids that's really open. They haven't become too socially conscious yet, and that makes me like them. In one class, a boy was nervous during an interrogation, and he started to cry. The other students comforted him, and we got on with the interrogation. Would that happen in the older classes? Sadly, I don't think so.
Anyway, halfway to the gym, I decided to take a detour to the post office. My mom sent me packages a week ago, and I looked online, and FedEx says it takes about a week for stuff to ship from the US to Italy. Last time my mom sent me something, I didn't pick it up in time, and it got sent back to the US, which I really don't want to happen again. I got into the post office, took my number, and waited 5 or 10 minutes. When it was my turn, I went up to the desk, just to ask if the man could check for me. He was confused, because I didn't have the little paper the post man leaves to tell you you have a package. Somehow, the man, who was actually very helpful, realized I live in Cassano, and he told me there was another post office in Cassano that I have to go to. Oops. I thanked him, and as I turned away from the desk, a woman came up and said, in English "Do you need some help?" I smiled and said "No, grazie!" and went on my way. Italians are helpful people, in general. My host parents often give me directions that include "when you see the.. ask someone, and they'll tell you."
I left the post office, and started the journey back to the gym. The streets in Gallarate are old. There are lots of pot holes, thus, when it rains, there are lots of puddles. I had forgotten the phenomenon of trucks creating walls of water when they pass through puddles, and I was reminded of it today. When I got to the gym, I, my backpack, purse, and gym bag, were all completely, totally soaked. I was a mess. I changed into my work out clothes, which were slightly drier than the bag they were in, and worked out a little. After I was finished, my pants were still wet, so I hung them on the hooks on the wall, and started drying them with the hair dryer. Usually, I have the gym all to myself, but a woman walked in, and looked a little shocked to see what I was doing. Oh well, they were wet, and I didn't want to wear wet pants all day.
After the pants were dry, I put them on, and walked outside to wait for Nonna, who was coming to pick me up. We returned to her house, where I dried out a little more by the fire, and we had a nice conversation. Well, not exactly nice, as it was about death. We talked about her mother, who died a few years back. She told me that it was her mother's time to go, and that death is a part of life, but I could tell she was holding back tears. I felt a little sad, so I changed the subject, and we talked for another hour about ragù.
Chicca came to pick me up from Nonna's house, and we went to pick up Matteo, then we came home. I've discovered that my room is the coldest room in the house. I went into my room, put on another sweather (right now I'm wearing a polo, a long sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and a fleece), curled up in the blankets on my bed, and red. Chicca called me for dinner, which was tortellini in broth, perfect for this cold, rainy weather. I skipped the meat course, and went straight to salad, of which I ate a copious amount. In Italy, we eat our salad with olive oil, vinegar, and salt. Try it sometime, it's actually really good.
Tomorrow, I have some classes that should be interesting, which I'm looking foreward to. I'm also waiting with baited breath for my mom's packages! Please pray that they get here safely, quickly, and that they don't get sent back home!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
A Panoramic tour..
This morning, I woke up on time, but without the cheery feeling I felt yesterday. I was tired, and just wanted to go back to sleep.. But, the show must go on, so after a half an hour of hitting the snooze button, I threw off the covers, and rushed about, doing my things.
Marco took Matteo and Luca and I to school today, and I don't really remember the ride there. Actually, I don't think I was actually awake until intervallo today. The first hour, I decided to go with the English teacher to the second-year class. They were reading an article about a girl who had to leave Bosnia, because the Serbian forces invaded. She ended up in Great Britain, and the article described some of the problems and hardships she faced. One of the excercises in the book was to interview your partner, asking qustions as if the partner was a student in the same situation as the girl. Instead of doing the excercises with a partner, the teacher decided to have the class ask me questions. It wasn't terribly difficult to answer the questions, but my throat felt a little tight, when they asked me if I missed my family and friends. That class ended abruptly, and I went to help teach English in the fourth-year class. Nothing interesting happened there.
After English with the fourth-year class, I went to the first-year class for literature. I honestly don't remember anything that happened in that class. At intervallo, I walked around, ate a snack, and tried to wake up a bit. It didn't work. Finally, about 15 minutes into the fourth hour, I got a bit of energy. The students were talking about "To Kill a Mockingbird" which impressed me a little. The last hour of the day was English again, still with the first year. Did you know English is a really hard language to learn? I've realized that I can speak English just as well as anyone, but I've got no idea how to explain when to use the infinitive and when to use the gerund form of verbs. School ended, and I walked to the gym for my daily trot on the treadmill.
After I went to the gym, I walked to my little sister's school to help teach English, like I do on every Tuesday. I crept in the back door of the classroom, trying to keep a low profile, but when Bea saw me, she ran across the classroom and jumped on me. She asked how long I'd been gone, and when I told her I've only been away a week, she said "Oh, but it feels like a month.." It's good to be missed.
I spent most of the 2 hours there trying to teach the alphabet to a new girl. She got pretty much everything down, except "R" and "W". How in the world do you explain "R"? I tried "ruff! ruff!" and "Grrr, I'm angry" and "Arrr, like a pirate!", but all the little girl could say was "awww." She tried her best, though, which was satisfying enough. She left early, and I spent the rest of the class correcting test papers. These kids come up with some interesting ways to tell time in English.. for example "It's the eleven for six" (half past eleven.) I'm proud to say, though, Bea didn't get one single question wrong.
While I was living with the Cuccirelli family, I walked everywhere. Now that I live outside Gallarate, I have to ask for rides. Enza, Bea's teacher, told me she could drive me home, if I needed a ride. I took her up on that offer today, only.. I don't know where I live. Enza called her sister, who know's Cassano Magnago (the name of my new town) fairly well, and she gave Enza directions. Enza missed the road a couple of times, but we ended up getting here fairly well. However, before beginning the search for my street, Enza gave me "a panoramic tour" of Gallarate. I did see some parts that I've never seen before, but Gallarate is a pretty small city, so the tour was a little redundant. School let out at 4:20, and by the time I got home, it was 5:45. We didn't leave school right away, but I felt bad that Enza stayed out so late, after having a long day teaching a class of rambunctious 9-year-olds.
When I got home, I did some laundry, tidied up, checked my email (nothing from Mom, curses!) and puttered around. My host family got home at about 7:30, and we ate dinner at 8:15. I must say that dinner tonight was especially delicious. After the usual spaghetti al pomodoro, we had veal with pomodoro and oreagano. It was delicious.
Hey, this is my third post in a day! That must be a record!
Marco took Matteo and Luca and I to school today, and I don't really remember the ride there. Actually, I don't think I was actually awake until intervallo today. The first hour, I decided to go with the English teacher to the second-year class. They were reading an article about a girl who had to leave Bosnia, because the Serbian forces invaded. She ended up in Great Britain, and the article described some of the problems and hardships she faced. One of the excercises in the book was to interview your partner, asking qustions as if the partner was a student in the same situation as the girl. Instead of doing the excercises with a partner, the teacher decided to have the class ask me questions. It wasn't terribly difficult to answer the questions, but my throat felt a little tight, when they asked me if I missed my family and friends. That class ended abruptly, and I went to help teach English in the fourth-year class. Nothing interesting happened there.
After English with the fourth-year class, I went to the first-year class for literature. I honestly don't remember anything that happened in that class. At intervallo, I walked around, ate a snack, and tried to wake up a bit. It didn't work. Finally, about 15 minutes into the fourth hour, I got a bit of energy. The students were talking about "To Kill a Mockingbird" which impressed me a little. The last hour of the day was English again, still with the first year. Did you know English is a really hard language to learn? I've realized that I can speak English just as well as anyone, but I've got no idea how to explain when to use the infinitive and when to use the gerund form of verbs. School ended, and I walked to the gym for my daily trot on the treadmill.
After I went to the gym, I walked to my little sister's school to help teach English, like I do on every Tuesday. I crept in the back door of the classroom, trying to keep a low profile, but when Bea saw me, she ran across the classroom and jumped on me. She asked how long I'd been gone, and when I told her I've only been away a week, she said "Oh, but it feels like a month.." It's good to be missed.
I spent most of the 2 hours there trying to teach the alphabet to a new girl. She got pretty much everything down, except "R" and "W". How in the world do you explain "R"? I tried "ruff! ruff!" and "Grrr, I'm angry" and "Arrr, like a pirate!", but all the little girl could say was "awww." She tried her best, though, which was satisfying enough. She left early, and I spent the rest of the class correcting test papers. These kids come up with some interesting ways to tell time in English.. for example "It's the eleven for six" (half past eleven.) I'm proud to say, though, Bea didn't get one single question wrong.
While I was living with the Cuccirelli family, I walked everywhere. Now that I live outside Gallarate, I have to ask for rides. Enza, Bea's teacher, told me she could drive me home, if I needed a ride. I took her up on that offer today, only.. I don't know where I live. Enza called her sister, who know's Cassano Magnago (the name of my new town) fairly well, and she gave Enza directions. Enza missed the road a couple of times, but we ended up getting here fairly well. However, before beginning the search for my street, Enza gave me "a panoramic tour" of Gallarate. I did see some parts that I've never seen before, but Gallarate is a pretty small city, so the tour was a little redundant. School let out at 4:20, and by the time I got home, it was 5:45. We didn't leave school right away, but I felt bad that Enza stayed out so late, after having a long day teaching a class of rambunctious 9-year-olds.
When I got home, I did some laundry, tidied up, checked my email (nothing from Mom, curses!) and puttered around. My host family got home at about 7:30, and we ate dinner at 8:15. I must say that dinner tonight was especially delicious. After the usual spaghetti al pomodoro, we had veal with pomodoro and oreagano. It was delicious.
Hey, this is my third post in a day! That must be a record!
Monday, January 14, 2008
They're Crazy, I tell you!
Today I walked into one of my classrooms, and the windows were open! It's like 2 degrees outside! What are these people thinking??
I'm blaming them for the cold I've come down with.
I've seen this car around, and today I decided to take a picture of it. I think it's blog-worthy, don't you?
Today was actually a pretty good day, even though it's a Monday! I woke up on time, and felt cheerful right away. Surprising, since morning-person is not a phrase that describes me in any regard.
School started off well, too, considering I had 2 free hours first thing. Usually, I have tutoring, but lessons stopped. I'm changing my schedule soon, though, so this won't happen anymore. Third hour, I went to geography. Geography isn't really geography, it's more economy, and the teacher's [very liberal] opinions. Today, she looked at me suddenly and said "Dori! Go get me a coffee!" She gave me the money, and off I went to the coffee machine. It felt strange, fetching the teacher her caffiene, but I've seen other students bring her coffee, so it's a normal thing. Geopgraphy flew by, and then we had intervallo. I walked to my next class, and scolded my classmates for leaving the windows open. They did math, and I fiddled around with my year planner. I don't do math with them because it's trigonometry, or calculous, or one of those maths that I never plan to do. After math came English, followed by gym. We played badminton in gym, which none of the Italians had ever played before. After gym, I ate lunch with a couple of girls, then walked to the gym. As I was walking into the gym, I heard a woman asking questions about getting a membership. She had a strange accent, and so I asked where she was from. Turned out she was English, here to teach at the middle school! She asked where I was from, and when I told her I'm American, she said "What are you doing in Gallarate?" Like it's the last place an American would come. It's interesting to me that we held an entire conversation in Italian, both of us knowing that the other spoke English. That was my high point of the day.
While I walk on the treadmill, I listen to my iPod, which is set on shuffle. Today, Donny Osmond's "Close Every Door" came on, and for some reason, it made me cry. After that, "Don't Stop Believin'" came on, and I was back to my chipper old self, just like that. This just shows what an emotional ping-pong ball I am.
For dinner, we had pasta al salmone, (salmon pasta) followed by arrosto (roast something) followed by salad, and finally fruit. We talked about sports all dinner, but not statistics. I tried to explain lacrosse, but I didn't do a very good job. Chicca told me she'll never understand the point of American Baseball, which I thought was kind of funny.
Well, considering I'm coming down with a cold, I think it's best I head off to bed! I hope everyone's having a good Monday!
I'm blaming them for the cold I've come down with.
I've seen this car around, and today I decided to take a picture of it. I think it's blog-worthy, don't you?
Today was actually a pretty good day, even though it's a Monday! I woke up on time, and felt cheerful right away. Surprising, since morning-person is not a phrase that describes me in any regard.
School started off well, too, considering I had 2 free hours first thing. Usually, I have tutoring, but lessons stopped. I'm changing my schedule soon, though, so this won't happen anymore. Third hour, I went to geography. Geography isn't really geography, it's more economy, and the teacher's [very liberal] opinions. Today, she looked at me suddenly and said "Dori! Go get me a coffee!" She gave me the money, and off I went to the coffee machine. It felt strange, fetching the teacher her caffiene, but I've seen other students bring her coffee, so it's a normal thing. Geopgraphy flew by, and then we had intervallo. I walked to my next class, and scolded my classmates for leaving the windows open. They did math, and I fiddled around with my year planner. I don't do math with them because it's trigonometry, or calculous, or one of those maths that I never plan to do. After math came English, followed by gym. We played badminton in gym, which none of the Italians had ever played before. After gym, I ate lunch with a couple of girls, then walked to the gym. As I was walking into the gym, I heard a woman asking questions about getting a membership. She had a strange accent, and so I asked where she was from. Turned out she was English, here to teach at the middle school! She asked where I was from, and when I told her I'm American, she said "What are you doing in Gallarate?" Like it's the last place an American would come. It's interesting to me that we held an entire conversation in Italian, both of us knowing that the other spoke English. That was my high point of the day.
While I walk on the treadmill, I listen to my iPod, which is set on shuffle. Today, Donny Osmond's "Close Every Door" came on, and for some reason, it made me cry. After that, "Don't Stop Believin'" came on, and I was back to my chipper old self, just like that. This just shows what an emotional ping-pong ball I am.
For dinner, we had pasta al salmone, (salmon pasta) followed by arrosto (roast something) followed by salad, and finally fruit. We talked about sports all dinner, but not statistics. I tried to explain lacrosse, but I didn't do a very good job. Chicca told me she'll never understand the point of American Baseball, which I thought was kind of funny.
Well, considering I'm coming down with a cold, I think it's best I head off to bed! I hope everyone's having a good Monday!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Here they are, Finally!
Ta-daaa! I finally got around to uploading all of my pictures! It took me a good two hours to do (seriously, two whole hours!) but now they're finally up.
These pictures go from oldest to newest. I'm going to refrain from writing too much about them, because this post is long enough already.
Trip To Milan, Early December
I had to lay on the floor of the Galleria to take this picture, but I think it's pretty cool.
Another view of the dome of the Galleria.
I'm sure you've all heard of Pannetone by now! But if you haven't; pannetone is one of the two traditional Italian Christmas sweets. It's essentailly rasin bread, with candied fruits inside, too. Pandoro, the other Christmas sweet, is a denser, slightly sweeter version of Pannetone, without the rasins or candied fruit.
Delicious.Rotary Christmas Luncheon, Early December
The luncheon was held in an ancient villa. Did I already write about this, just not upload pictures? Well, anyways, the luncheon was for all of the exchange students. It was actually a lot of fun, we went to Mass, ate, then sang Christmas carols. Following the meal and singing, the owner of the villa gave us a tour. We got to hold documents from the 1200s, which was kind of cool.
Oh dear. No, not really, by now I've learned fine dining table manners!
Two other exchangees, Austin and Kristen.Christmas Break in Courmayeur
The main street of Courmayeur. It's deserted, which happens only at dinner time. From 10 until past midnight, however, it's as packed as NYC. 
It snowed our last 4 days there, without stopping! Everything was so beautifully white, but the roads were a mess!
Itailan Alps.
More Italian Alps.
Because skiing in the Alps isn't thrilling enough, these people decided to do it at night, while holding torches.Christmas Eve, Torino
We went to Torino's film museum, and this was one of the exhibits. It was supposed to be the laboratory of Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde (or is it Hide?) Nonna decided the picture should be a scary one, so she's screaming.
From left to right: Older host sister Camilla, Younger host sister Bea, host cousin Allegra, and Host cousin Bennedetta. I'm the slightly chubby blonde one on the end.
My host father, Paolo, ordered for me. It was octopus. Disgusting as it looks, it tasted amazing!
My next course, Angelotti, a typical kind of pasta from Torino. Meat filled ravioli in meaty sauce. Also really good. (But heck, this is Italy, what isn't really good?)Christmas Day, On the Slopes and in a Restaurant
The girls! I love them all!And now, the restaurant. I want you to look at this picture very carefully. Try to guess what it might be.
It's a mountain goat's leg. There was still fur on it, and it wasn't cooked! Evidently, it's a traditional Valle d'Aostana thing to eat raw mountain goat.
There it is, the mountain goat meat. I tried it, and gave the rest to my host mother. Ok, some Italian foods aren't to my liking.
It's a mountain goat's leg. There was still fur on it, and it wasn't cooked! Evidently, it's a traditional Valle d'Aostana thing to eat raw mountain goat.
There it is, the mountain goat meat. I tried it, and gave the rest to my host mother. Ok, some Italian foods aren't to my liking.
More raw meats, and some lard, too! Yes, I ate straight lard. Hmm, maybe that's why I've gained a little weight..
Crepes alla Valle d'Aostana: crepes filled with prosciutto cotto and cheese. These we're in a rich cheese sauce, and were mind blowing, they were so good! I remember that when my oldest brother, Ben, liked a food, he would mmm the whole time he was eating it. Well, Christmast Night, I took after my brother. It was just so delicious!Chamonix, France, a few days after Christmas
My host family took me on a day trip to France, to a little ski town called Chamonix. It looked just like northern Italy, only everything was written in French. It was a bit bizzare, being in France, speaking Italian, even though I'm American. We walked around the town a bit, then stopped into a traditional French Valle d'Aoste restaurant. With my host family, every restaurant we go into must be authentic. I'm not sure if they do it for my benefit, but I sure do appreciate it!
Typical French cheese, with prosciutto, salame, and bologna. The prosciutto was probably the best I had ever eaten. In the bowl near my plate were three boiled potatoes. I put a potato on my plate, mashed it, then cut up some of the meat and put it on the potato while the cheese was melting:
After the cheese had all melted, I tipped the metal melting thing, and all the cheese goo slid on to the potatoes and meat. French food is just as tasty as Italian food is. Well, at least this dish was, but I'm not so sure about what my host mom got!
Those are giant prawn! With the eyes still attached! I started to make disgusted faces at my host mom, and she said "Hey! I like them!"
Beatrice and I in the French restaurant. Please ignore how round my face is. (Actually, I've lost some weight since then)January
Moving Day: Packing
I had a little problem with packing..
Clothes..
More clothes..
Whoops, left some clothes on the floor, too
Only one suitcase. I did manage to get it all in, though!
I've changed host families since then. This new family lives in a town outside the city of Gallarate, called Cassano Magnago. I haven't had a chance to see any of Cassano, because the weather has been so nasty, and we spend most of our time at the grandmother's house. She lives in Cardano, which is right next to the highway. Not a whole lot to see there, but the grandmother's house is warm and inviting, and she's travelled the whole world, so she has a lot of interesting stories to tell. Plus, she makes the world's best ragù. My host father is a tall, quiet man, called Marco. His wife, Chicca, is shorter than I am, and is fun to talk to. They both work in the clothing industry, and I think they own a few companies. They have two sons, Matteo, aged 17, and Luca, aged 15. Both are nice, but, well, they're teenaged boys.
This weekend, Marco, Chicca and I went to their house in Courmayeur. Saturday night, we went to Shamonix. Only, I forgot to bring my Passport.. I was terrified the whole time that when we went back to cross the border, they wouldn't let me back into Italy, and I'd be stranded in France! Stranded in France, what a nightmare!
Actually going to Chamonix with them was really fun. We went with 2 other couples, one couple was French, the other was a French wife and Italian Husband. Everyone, except me, spoke French the whole night. I felt like I did 4 months ago, not being able to understand a word. Every once in a while Chicca would explain what they were talking about, but I still felt out of it. One of the French women asked me something in French, and I was at a complete loss how to respond. I haven't felt that way in so long, and I wasn't used to it! Turned out, though, that she spoke a bit of English, so everything was fine.
Before arriving in Courmayeur, we went to the meat shop to get some fresh meat for the week. that thing in the middle, the black and pink long icky looking thing, is the tounge of a bull. Europeans actually it that, can you believe it?
Here's the picture of the French couple's house. Every single article in the house was either wood, red, or some shade of white. It was a gorgeous little cottage, and looked like it belonged in a story book. The couple decorated it themselves, and now that they're finished, they're planning on selling the house. They're already building a new house to decorate. I guess building houses and decorating them is their hobby.
Here's a picture of some drink that I can't remember the name of. It's a lot of alcohol, with a little bit of coffee, and some oranges. The Italian Husband explained to me that it was a friendship drink, and you can only find it in the Valle D'Aosta. I tried it, and the French Wife laughed at the expression on my face, then told me she was waiting to see how I reacted.
At the French Restaurant, we had real fondue, and real French creme brulee. Both were, you guessed it, amazing. Actually, my Uncle Brud made Creme Brulee once, and I think his was better. Anyway, the evening was fun, the family is nice, but I just realized it's almost 10 o'clock, and I have school tomorrow.
Enjoy the [finally posted] pictures!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Christmas Morning
Christmas morning wasn't what I was expecting it to be.
I woke suddenly, to Bea's face three inches from mine. "E' arrivato!" she said, meaning that Babbo Natale (Santa) had come. She dragged me out of bed, as I struggled to regain conciousness. We went to the living room, where Babbo Natale had left all of the presents on the table.
Usually, Christmas morning, my [real] family has one member of the family pass out gifts. My mom buys corresponding gifts, so that my brothers and I get the same amount of things. For example, we all open gifts that turn out to be DVDs at the same time, we all get books, calendars, etc. My host family stood around the table, found all the presents with their name on them, sat down on the couch, and started opening. I tried to do things slowly, savor the moments, but my host family seemed to be in a rush to open presents. I received a fleece, a sweater, a necklace, a pair of gloves, a bracelet, some chocolate, and peanut butter! Alberto Protasoni also got me a really nice purse, which I love, and Luca Capodiferro got me a fantastic book on my region. It's written in both English and Italian, so that my family can see pictures and read about where I live.
After we were finshed opening the presents, my host family went skiing. I went up to the slopes with them, although I didn't ski. I walked around a bit, took some pictures, watched little kids learn to ski, and then went into a bar. I had forgotten to eat breakfast, so I bought an apple pastry and hot chocolate. After a while, my host family came and found me. We took more pictures, and I took the funivia back down to the town.
Christmas evening, we went out to a restaurant. I was at one end of the table, enjoying myself talking to my host sisters, when my host father asked me if I wanted a piece of meat. I looked at the other end of a table, and to my surprise, there was a leg of mountain goat on the table. A whole leg. Hoof still attached. Fur still attached. There was a waiter cutting off pieces of the uncooked meat, which you were supposed to eat on bread and butter. Well, I took one bite, and gave the rest to my host mom. It didn't taste bad, exactly, more it was the fact that I knew I was eating raw goat meat. After that, I had a traditional dish from the Valle d'Aosta; crepes with prosciutto and cheese inside, with cheese sauce. It was warm, rich, and delicioius, but couldn't compare to my family's traditioal Christmas meal: chicken cordon bleu. We went back to the house, and all went right to bed.
For the rest of the vacation, I slept in, walked in the town, did a lot of reading, and watched plenty of movies in both English and Italian. Most evenings, my host parents would go out to dinner with their friends, so I would stay home with my host sister, and make dinner. I haven't learned a lot about cooking Italian cuisine, but I can cook pasta to perfection!
One day, my host family and I took a little trip to France. We went to Chamonix, a skiing town like Coermayeur. We went out to lunch, and my host father ordered a typical southern French meal for me: potatoes with cheese and prosciutto. I was a little surprised when they brought a metal contraption to my place at the table, and lit a fire under it. When they brought my plate, my host mother showed me that you put the cheese on the metal, it melts, then you tip the metal contraption and all the melted cheese falls on to the potatoes, which you've cut up on your plate. It was really good, but sooo filling! After eating, we went and did a little bit of shopping. My host mother wanted to find some little gifts for her friends, we went and got some French Cheese in a traditional French Cheese Shop (it smelled awful!), then went to the French supermarket to do our grocery shopping. It was a fun little trip, and now I can say I've been to 5 countries in the world! (The U.S., Canada, Holland, Italy, and France.)
On New Years, my host sister went to her friend's house to play Tombola, a game like bingo, and my host parent's went out with their friends. I went to church, walked around, ate a crepe, and waited for midnight. At midnight, all of Courmayeur let off fireworks, which was pretty. I went to bed shortly after midnight. I know, I'm such a partygirl.
I thought I would be heading back to Gallarate on the 2nd, but plans changed at the last minute. Nobody told me, though, so I packed up all of my things, and was ready to go. When I found out that we would be staying in Courmayeur for 5 more days, I suddenly got really homesick. Homesick for the United States, but also a little for Gallarate. I wanted to come home, to have time in the place I've stayed at for the past 4 months, because I knew I had to move shortly after we got home! For about 3 days, I was really down and out, but I called my mom, and of course she made me feel better.
We got home two days ago, school started yesterday, and today I'm moving families.
Moving families. Something all of the exchange students know is going to happen, but nobody realizes it until it is upon you. I don't really know how I feel about changing families. I'm looking foreward to the new adventure, but I'm a little annoyed that I have to change, just as I was getting really comfortable with my routine! I'm sad to leave Bea, even though I know I'll see her again. What really gets me, though, is I'm going to live farther away from the school.. I'll have to wake up a whole hour earlier to be here on time! I'm sure things will work out, though, I'll make a new routine to get used to, and I'll certainly try to keep my blog properly updated! Saying that, I'll post those pictures as soon as I get the chance, I promise!
The next time you hear from me, I'll be in a completely different enviornment.. wish me luck!
I woke suddenly, to Bea's face three inches from mine. "E' arrivato!" she said, meaning that Babbo Natale (Santa) had come. She dragged me out of bed, as I struggled to regain conciousness. We went to the living room, where Babbo Natale had left all of the presents on the table.
Usually, Christmas morning, my [real] family has one member of the family pass out gifts. My mom buys corresponding gifts, so that my brothers and I get the same amount of things. For example, we all open gifts that turn out to be DVDs at the same time, we all get books, calendars, etc. My host family stood around the table, found all the presents with their name on them, sat down on the couch, and started opening. I tried to do things slowly, savor the moments, but my host family seemed to be in a rush to open presents. I received a fleece, a sweater, a necklace, a pair of gloves, a bracelet, some chocolate, and peanut butter! Alberto Protasoni also got me a really nice purse, which I love, and Luca Capodiferro got me a fantastic book on my region. It's written in both English and Italian, so that my family can see pictures and read about where I live.
After we were finshed opening the presents, my host family went skiing. I went up to the slopes with them, although I didn't ski. I walked around a bit, took some pictures, watched little kids learn to ski, and then went into a bar. I had forgotten to eat breakfast, so I bought an apple pastry and hot chocolate. After a while, my host family came and found me. We took more pictures, and I took the funivia back down to the town.
Christmas evening, we went out to a restaurant. I was at one end of the table, enjoying myself talking to my host sisters, when my host father asked me if I wanted a piece of meat. I looked at the other end of a table, and to my surprise, there was a leg of mountain goat on the table. A whole leg. Hoof still attached. Fur still attached. There was a waiter cutting off pieces of the uncooked meat, which you were supposed to eat on bread and butter. Well, I took one bite, and gave the rest to my host mom. It didn't taste bad, exactly, more it was the fact that I knew I was eating raw goat meat. After that, I had a traditional dish from the Valle d'Aosta; crepes with prosciutto and cheese inside, with cheese sauce. It was warm, rich, and delicioius, but couldn't compare to my family's traditioal Christmas meal: chicken cordon bleu. We went back to the house, and all went right to bed.
For the rest of the vacation, I slept in, walked in the town, did a lot of reading, and watched plenty of movies in both English and Italian. Most evenings, my host parents would go out to dinner with their friends, so I would stay home with my host sister, and make dinner. I haven't learned a lot about cooking Italian cuisine, but I can cook pasta to perfection!
One day, my host family and I took a little trip to France. We went to Chamonix, a skiing town like Coermayeur. We went out to lunch, and my host father ordered a typical southern French meal for me: potatoes with cheese and prosciutto. I was a little surprised when they brought a metal contraption to my place at the table, and lit a fire under it. When they brought my plate, my host mother showed me that you put the cheese on the metal, it melts, then you tip the metal contraption and all the melted cheese falls on to the potatoes, which you've cut up on your plate. It was really good, but sooo filling! After eating, we went and did a little bit of shopping. My host mother wanted to find some little gifts for her friends, we went and got some French Cheese in a traditional French Cheese Shop (it smelled awful!), then went to the French supermarket to do our grocery shopping. It was a fun little trip, and now I can say I've been to 5 countries in the world! (The U.S., Canada, Holland, Italy, and France.)
On New Years, my host sister went to her friend's house to play Tombola, a game like bingo, and my host parent's went out with their friends. I went to church, walked around, ate a crepe, and waited for midnight. At midnight, all of Courmayeur let off fireworks, which was pretty. I went to bed shortly after midnight. I know, I'm such a partygirl.
I thought I would be heading back to Gallarate on the 2nd, but plans changed at the last minute. Nobody told me, though, so I packed up all of my things, and was ready to go. When I found out that we would be staying in Courmayeur for 5 more days, I suddenly got really homesick. Homesick for the United States, but also a little for Gallarate. I wanted to come home, to have time in the place I've stayed at for the past 4 months, because I knew I had to move shortly after we got home! For about 3 days, I was really down and out, but I called my mom, and of course she made me feel better.
We got home two days ago, school started yesterday, and today I'm moving families.
Moving families. Something all of the exchange students know is going to happen, but nobody realizes it until it is upon you. I don't really know how I feel about changing families. I'm looking foreward to the new adventure, but I'm a little annoyed that I have to change, just as I was getting really comfortable with my routine! I'm sad to leave Bea, even though I know I'll see her again. What really gets me, though, is I'm going to live farther away from the school.. I'll have to wake up a whole hour earlier to be here on time! I'm sure things will work out, though, I'll make a new routine to get used to, and I'll certainly try to keep my blog properly updated! Saying that, I'll post those pictures as soon as I get the chance, I promise!
The next time you hear from me, I'll be in a completely different enviornment.. wish me luck!
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Sono appena tornata!
Phew! I have so much to write!
Well, I just spent the past two weeks in Courmayeur (which is the proper spelling.)
It was a pretty little town, about 15 km south of the French border. My host family went skiing almost every day, and I stayed home to watch movies and read.
We arrived in Courmayeur the evening of December 21. December 22 and 23, Bea, my little host sister, was sick, so I stayed home with her while my host parents and older sister, Cami, went skiing.
Christmas Eve, we went to Torino (Turin in English, I think) to spend some time with my host mother's side of the family. We all went to Torino's museum of Film, which was a lot of fun. The exhibits there were like the sets of old movies, and we got to play around in them. I took a lot of pictures, which I will upload later, as I am at school right now, and don't have my camera. After the museum, we went to Zia Lodo's house to kill time before we went to the restaurant. Zia Lodo is pregnant, due any day now, so while we were at her house, they showed us some of the things they had prepared for the baby. We all went to a restaurant for Christmas Dinner, and as usual, I asked my host father to order for me.
My host father, being an Italian man, knows a lot about food and the specialties of restaurants. For the first course, he ordered me octopus and artichoke, I think. The waiter placed the bowl in front of me, and I was a little intimidated: there were purple octopus legs with the suckers still on, swimming in broth. Being brave, I gave it a little taste, and was surprised: the octopus was absolutely delicious. After the octopus, I had angelotti, meat filled ravioli in meat sauce. That, too, was fantastic. After we had all stuffed ourselves, the whole family went to Zio Toto's house to exchange presents and eat pandoro. I used this time to call my family, and wish them a Merry Christmas. Of course it was great to talk to my family, but it sounded like they were having so much fun, and I got a little homesick. After I finished my call and collected myself, I went into the living room, where Zia Chicca gave me a necklace, Nonna gave me a bracelet, and another relative (I don't really know who she was) gave me some lotion. I didn't expect any presents, and the fact that they remembered me made me feel warm and fuzzy. After all of the presents were exchanged, all of the younger cousins recited things that they had written about Christmas. At school, Bea had been learning "Silent Night", and she asked me to sing it for the family. Considering it was one in the morning, I was falling asleep, and I don't particularly like singing by myself, I declined, only to be pestered by the family. Eventually, I realized there was no way out, so I gave up and sang a verse of Silent Night for them. One of the Zios was really impressed, and told my he could tell I've studied singing, which was flattering. Finally, my host father decided it was time to go, so we piled in the car to return to our home in the Mountains.
We arrived back at Courmayeur at two in the morning, and my host father and I carried all the presents from the car up to the living room. I went to bed exhausted, hardly realizing it was Christmas.
I will continue this post later, but the bell just rang, and I've got to run off to Geography!
Well, I just spent the past two weeks in Courmayeur (which is the proper spelling.)
It was a pretty little town, about 15 km south of the French border. My host family went skiing almost every day, and I stayed home to watch movies and read.
We arrived in Courmayeur the evening of December 21. December 22 and 23, Bea, my little host sister, was sick, so I stayed home with her while my host parents and older sister, Cami, went skiing.
Christmas Eve, we went to Torino (Turin in English, I think) to spend some time with my host mother's side of the family. We all went to Torino's museum of Film, which was a lot of fun. The exhibits there were like the sets of old movies, and we got to play around in them. I took a lot of pictures, which I will upload later, as I am at school right now, and don't have my camera. After the museum, we went to Zia Lodo's house to kill time before we went to the restaurant. Zia Lodo is pregnant, due any day now, so while we were at her house, they showed us some of the things they had prepared for the baby. We all went to a restaurant for Christmas Dinner, and as usual, I asked my host father to order for me.
My host father, being an Italian man, knows a lot about food and the specialties of restaurants. For the first course, he ordered me octopus and artichoke, I think. The waiter placed the bowl in front of me, and I was a little intimidated: there were purple octopus legs with the suckers still on, swimming in broth. Being brave, I gave it a little taste, and was surprised: the octopus was absolutely delicious. After the octopus, I had angelotti, meat filled ravioli in meat sauce. That, too, was fantastic. After we had all stuffed ourselves, the whole family went to Zio Toto's house to exchange presents and eat pandoro. I used this time to call my family, and wish them a Merry Christmas. Of course it was great to talk to my family, but it sounded like they were having so much fun, and I got a little homesick. After I finished my call and collected myself, I went into the living room, where Zia Chicca gave me a necklace, Nonna gave me a bracelet, and another relative (I don't really know who she was) gave me some lotion. I didn't expect any presents, and the fact that they remembered me made me feel warm and fuzzy. After all of the presents were exchanged, all of the younger cousins recited things that they had written about Christmas. At school, Bea had been learning "Silent Night", and she asked me to sing it for the family. Considering it was one in the morning, I was falling asleep, and I don't particularly like singing by myself, I declined, only to be pestered by the family. Eventually, I realized there was no way out, so I gave up and sang a verse of Silent Night for them. One of the Zios was really impressed, and told my he could tell I've studied singing, which was flattering. Finally, my host father decided it was time to go, so we piled in the car to return to our home in the Mountains.
We arrived back at Courmayeur at two in the morning, and my host father and I carried all the presents from the car up to the living room. I went to bed exhausted, hardly realizing it was Christmas.
I will continue this post later, but the bell just rang, and I've got to run off to Geography!
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