This evening, my host family and I will depart for our home in the mountains, so I won't be able to post until after Easter.
Now, I figured I'd write about Italian Easter traditions, just like I have with every other Italian holiday, but here's the kicker: there are none. At least, that's what my host family told me.
We were eating dinner the other evening, and I asked what we would do to celebrate Easter. "Nothing" was the reply that came from my host mom. Then she continued with "well, some people buy chocolate eggs, but that's only for the kids."
And that was the end of the discussion.
Needless to say, I was a bit shocked. I hadn't even thought that there might not be a basket full of jelly beans waiting for me when I woke up. Not only would there be no basket, no marshmellow peeps, no Reese's peanut butter eggs, but there would be no chocolate bunny. What is Easter without a chocolate bunny?
Yes, I realize that Easter is not all about the candy, it's about the ressurection of Our Lord. Knowing that, I will be happy and thankful, and celebrate the day.
But dang it, I will buy myself one of those chocolate eggs.
Happy Easter, everyone!
Friday, March 21, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Another Splendid Day
Milano is one of my favorite cities. When I say this to Italians, they chuckle and say "but you haven't been to Rome yet!" or something to that effect. But really, I love Milan, and I go as often as I can.
Yesterday evening, there was a Rotary get-together in Milan. Seeing as I had nothing of importance going on at school, I skipped (with permission, of course) and hopped a train first thing in the morning. Upon arriving at the metro station, I accidentally took the metro in the wrong direction. I was a little concerned, because Taylor was waiting for me at Duomo, and I'd hate to make him wait. Thankfully, I actually arrived at Duomo earlier than we had planned.
Everything seemed to be working for me yesterday: the train I took was clean and fast, I arrived at Duomo on time dispite taking the wrong metro, and when I got to Duomo, there was hardly any line for confession.
Confessionals in the Duomo are a little unusual: there is no little room for the confessee (the priest is called the confessor, so is the sinner the confessee?) you simply walk up to the priest, who is sitting in a little box with a window, and start your confession. There's no place to kneel, and it feels strange to tell someone your sins while standing. The priest I went to didn't speak English, so I did my best in Italian. When the priest asked if I was finished confessing, I told him I couldn't figure out how to explain other things in Italian. He said "That's alright! God sees all, and He knows!" Then he murmured the absolution to himself, and said something like "I've absolved you! You can go now, in peace!" I thought it was strange that he was so jolly.
After Taylor and I left the Duomo, we had absolutly no idea what to do with the rest of our day. It wasn't even 10 in the morning, and the Rotary get-together didn't start until six. We decided to go find one of Milan's planetariums, to see if anything interesting was playing.
We had walked a good part of Milan by then, and I was famished. It was 11, which I consider late enough for lunch. Taylor and I went to Luini's, a panzerotti place. Panzerotti are pieces of dough, with fresh mozzerella and tomatoes inside, deep-fried. Kind of like a calzone, only way more fattening and delicious. We sat on a curb, eating our panzerotti, thinking about what to do next.
Taylor wanted me to see Milan's canals, which I had never even heard of. Those were quite a ways away, and we walked. The sky was blue, the sun was out, but there was no springy breeze. Thus, it got downright hot. On the walk back to Duomo from the canals, I developed a headache, most likely from squinting. Taylor and I had walked quite a distance, and we decided some gelato was in order. Seeing as it's Lent, I got a small frozen yogurt, instead. Yogurt in Italy is not like yogurt in the U.S. I don't think they put sugar in it, and it reminds me a little bit of runny sour cream. Even though nowhere near as good as gelato, the yogurt was quite refreshing and after sitting in the shade for a while, I felt much better. By then it was past one, and school had gotten out, so we called David to see if he wanted to hang out.
We met David at San Babila, where he was trying to find a place to fax a document to his parents. We strolled around, looking for a place with a fax machine, and after asking several people for directions, we found a print shop. David faxed the document, but it cost nine euro. I've never faxed anything before, but I don't think faxing costs that much! We strolled around for a bit, when David said he needed to go home for lunch. Taylor needed to go home to take care of a few things too, so I went to David's house.
His host father is a Greek artist, so his host mother explained some of his artwork to me while David was eating. After lunch, David and I sat on the couch, having a friendly discussion about religion. Before leaving to go back out in the city, we went to his upstairs neighbor's house to listen to him play the piano. I haven't played in months, and when I tried one of my easier pieces, my fingers stumbled and felt out of shape. I was a little sad; I never realized how much being able to play meant to me. We talked to the neighbor, who was an older Italian gentleman, then hopped a bus to the metro station.
We decided to meet Taylor at Castello, but by the time we got there, we only had a few minutes before we needed to start heading towards Sant'Ambrogio, where the Rotary get-together was. After grabbing a snack, we hopped the metro to Sant'Ambrogio, where we met all of the other Rotary exchangees. Over the past month, many of the other student's families have come to visit and most of us have gone on school trips, so there was a lot to talk about. After everyone got there, we began our tour of the Basilica di Sant'Ambrogio. Everyone was shocked by the "relics" or Sant'Ambrogio's skeleton. Remember those? I've written about them before, in one of my previous posts!
After the tour of the Basilica and University, we took the metro to a restaurant. Generally, when we go out with Rotary, the meals are good. This particular meal, however, was fantastic. We went into the restaurant, which had about 2 or 3 small tables on the first floor, then went down a flight of steps into a really amazing restaurant. The whole place was brick and wood, with candles on every table. We walked over to the table that was obviously for us, being the biggest table in the place, and were astounded by the amount of appetizers. There were numerous platters of meats: prosciutto crudo and cotto, several types of salami, bologna, bresaola, and pancetta. There were also platters of cheese, and we discovered that one of the cheeses tasted similar to cheddar. There was fruit, tomatoes, several types of warmed bread, and these lovely things called fried gnocchi, which I'm sure I gained a pound from eating. We all would have been satisfied simply from the appetizers, but there was a second course, too: choice between pizza and pasta. I split a calzone with one of my friends, and was stuffed. Some of the other kids ate a whole pizza! And after the second course, there was dessert! I didn't get anything, but most of the kids got banana splits. We were all completely satisfied, and we had a fantastic evening.
After dinner I found out that Misko, who was taking me home, was also taking 3 other students home too. We walked back to the metro station, and waited 15 minutes for the metro. By then the excitement of the evening had worn off a bit, and we were all getting tired. We took the metro to centrale, walked to Misko's car, and began the journey to Monza. After dropping the 3 other people off, we started towards Cassano. I didn't get home until 1:30 in the morning, and I had school the next day. But boy, was it worth it!
Yesterday evening, there was a Rotary get-together in Milan. Seeing as I had nothing of importance going on at school, I skipped (with permission, of course) and hopped a train first thing in the morning. Upon arriving at the metro station, I accidentally took the metro in the wrong direction. I was a little concerned, because Taylor was waiting for me at Duomo, and I'd hate to make him wait. Thankfully, I actually arrived at Duomo earlier than we had planned.
Everything seemed to be working for me yesterday: the train I took was clean and fast, I arrived at Duomo on time dispite taking the wrong metro, and when I got to Duomo, there was hardly any line for confession.
Confessionals in the Duomo are a little unusual: there is no little room for the confessee (the priest is called the confessor, so is the sinner the confessee?) you simply walk up to the priest, who is sitting in a little box with a window, and start your confession. There's no place to kneel, and it feels strange to tell someone your sins while standing. The priest I went to didn't speak English, so I did my best in Italian. When the priest asked if I was finished confessing, I told him I couldn't figure out how to explain other things in Italian. He said "That's alright! God sees all, and He knows!" Then he murmured the absolution to himself, and said something like "I've absolved you! You can go now, in peace!" I thought it was strange that he was so jolly.
After Taylor and I left the Duomo, we had absolutly no idea what to do with the rest of our day. It wasn't even 10 in the morning, and the Rotary get-together didn't start until six. We decided to go find one of Milan's planetariums, to see if anything interesting was playing.
We had walked a good part of Milan by then, and I was famished. It was 11, which I consider late enough for lunch. Taylor and I went to Luini's, a panzerotti place. Panzerotti are pieces of dough, with fresh mozzerella and tomatoes inside, deep-fried. Kind of like a calzone, only way more fattening and delicious. We sat on a curb, eating our panzerotti, thinking about what to do next.
Taylor wanted me to see Milan's canals, which I had never even heard of. Those were quite a ways away, and we walked. The sky was blue, the sun was out, but there was no springy breeze. Thus, it got downright hot. On the walk back to Duomo from the canals, I developed a headache, most likely from squinting. Taylor and I had walked quite a distance, and we decided some gelato was in order. Seeing as it's Lent, I got a small frozen yogurt, instead. Yogurt in Italy is not like yogurt in the U.S. I don't think they put sugar in it, and it reminds me a little bit of runny sour cream. Even though nowhere near as good as gelato, the yogurt was quite refreshing and after sitting in the shade for a while, I felt much better. By then it was past one, and school had gotten out, so we called David to see if he wanted to hang out.
We met David at San Babila, where he was trying to find a place to fax a document to his parents. We strolled around, looking for a place with a fax machine, and after asking several people for directions, we found a print shop. David faxed the document, but it cost nine euro. I've never faxed anything before, but I don't think faxing costs that much! We strolled around for a bit, when David said he needed to go home for lunch. Taylor needed to go home to take care of a few things too, so I went to David's house.
His host father is a Greek artist, so his host mother explained some of his artwork to me while David was eating. After lunch, David and I sat on the couch, having a friendly discussion about religion. Before leaving to go back out in the city, we went to his upstairs neighbor's house to listen to him play the piano. I haven't played in months, and when I tried one of my easier pieces, my fingers stumbled and felt out of shape. I was a little sad; I never realized how much being able to play meant to me. We talked to the neighbor, who was an older Italian gentleman, then hopped a bus to the metro station.
We decided to meet Taylor at Castello, but by the time we got there, we only had a few minutes before we needed to start heading towards Sant'Ambrogio, where the Rotary get-together was. After grabbing a snack, we hopped the metro to Sant'Ambrogio, where we met all of the other Rotary exchangees. Over the past month, many of the other student's families have come to visit and most of us have gone on school trips, so there was a lot to talk about. After everyone got there, we began our tour of the Basilica di Sant'Ambrogio. Everyone was shocked by the "relics" or Sant'Ambrogio's skeleton. Remember those? I've written about them before, in one of my previous posts!
After the tour of the Basilica and University, we took the metro to a restaurant. Generally, when we go out with Rotary, the meals are good. This particular meal, however, was fantastic. We went into the restaurant, which had about 2 or 3 small tables on the first floor, then went down a flight of steps into a really amazing restaurant. The whole place was brick and wood, with candles on every table. We walked over to the table that was obviously for us, being the biggest table in the place, and were astounded by the amount of appetizers. There were numerous platters of meats: prosciutto crudo and cotto, several types of salami, bologna, bresaola, and pancetta. There were also platters of cheese, and we discovered that one of the cheeses tasted similar to cheddar. There was fruit, tomatoes, several types of warmed bread, and these lovely things called fried gnocchi, which I'm sure I gained a pound from eating. We all would have been satisfied simply from the appetizers, but there was a second course, too: choice between pizza and pasta. I split a calzone with one of my friends, and was stuffed. Some of the other kids ate a whole pizza! And after the second course, there was dessert! I didn't get anything, but most of the kids got banana splits. We were all completely satisfied, and we had a fantastic evening.
After dinner I found out that Misko, who was taking me home, was also taking 3 other students home too. We walked back to the metro station, and waited 15 minutes for the metro. By then the excitement of the evening had worn off a bit, and we were all getting tired. We took the metro to centrale, walked to Misko's car, and began the journey to Monza. After dropping the 3 other people off, we started towards Cassano. I didn't get home until 1:30 in the morning, and I had school the next day. But boy, was it worth it!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The Greatest Game Ever Played
That's a movie title, and the movie is about golfing.
Which is what I did today.
On this exchange, I've done so many things that I never dreamed I'd have the opportunity to do. I've strolled around Milan at night by myself, I've stood upon the Pont du Gard, I've eaten eclairs in a French cafe. And I've gone golfing.
Yesterday, Alberto called me and asked if I wanted to go do something near Lago Maggiore. The TV was on, and I was trying to turn down the volume, so I didn't exactly hear everything he said. I did understand that he was inviting me to go someplace with him, but unfortunately I had already made plans for that evening. "No worries," Alberto said, "I might go tomorrow, too. I'll call you again later."
This morning, half an hour after I woke up, my phone rang. It was Alberto, saying if I wanted to go with him, he'd be by to pick me up at noon. Which meant I had half an hour to get washed, dressed, and made up. Crud.
Somehow, I managed to be ready just as Alberto rang the bell. I grabbed the keys, told my host brothers I was leaving, and was off to Lago Maggiore. Or so I thought.
It turned out we were going golfing near Lago Maggiore. I did see the Lago, though, from the car window.
Alberto explained that we were going to Italy's nicest golf club, designed by a famous American who is now dead. We arrived at the club, ate lunch overlooking part of the golf course (which was actually really beautiful-- all green and lush and manicured, with little ponds and men in plaid pants walking around) and then Alberto went to change his shoes. I assumed he would be golfing, and I would be standing off on the sidelines somewhere. But then, as we passed the place where all of the caddies were stored, Albert said "Wait a minute. I'll go get some of my wife's clubs."
Oh, dear. There's only one reason Alberto would get his wife's clubs: so I could play, too.
First, we went to the driving range. After several minutes of Alberto trying to show me how to hold the club right, I took a swing. And completely missed the ball. I tried again, and took a chunk out of the ground. Finally, I actually hit the ball, and it when flying off at an angle. Alberto was satisfied, and he left me to continue practicing.
After a little while, a group of small children came onto the driving range, so Alberto and I went to practice putting. I'm glad to report that putting went much better than driving did. Alberto and I had a small putting competition, and I won 2 out of 5 times! When we had finished putting, we went to practice hitting out of the sand. I just watched.
Alberto played a couple of holes, while I pulled the caddy. It was a beautiful day, the air was fresh and smelled faintly of flowers, and I enjoyed Alberto's company. So thanks, Alberto, for the lovely afternoon!
Which is what I did today.
On this exchange, I've done so many things that I never dreamed I'd have the opportunity to do. I've strolled around Milan at night by myself, I've stood upon the Pont du Gard, I've eaten eclairs in a French cafe. And I've gone golfing.
Yesterday, Alberto called me and asked if I wanted to go do something near Lago Maggiore. The TV was on, and I was trying to turn down the volume, so I didn't exactly hear everything he said. I did understand that he was inviting me to go someplace with him, but unfortunately I had already made plans for that evening. "No worries," Alberto said, "I might go tomorrow, too. I'll call you again later."
This morning, half an hour after I woke up, my phone rang. It was Alberto, saying if I wanted to go with him, he'd be by to pick me up at noon. Which meant I had half an hour to get washed, dressed, and made up. Crud.
Somehow, I managed to be ready just as Alberto rang the bell. I grabbed the keys, told my host brothers I was leaving, and was off to Lago Maggiore. Or so I thought.
It turned out we were going golfing near Lago Maggiore. I did see the Lago, though, from the car window.
Alberto explained that we were going to Italy's nicest golf club, designed by a famous American who is now dead. We arrived at the club, ate lunch overlooking part of the golf course (which was actually really beautiful-- all green and lush and manicured, with little ponds and men in plaid pants walking around) and then Alberto went to change his shoes. I assumed he would be golfing, and I would be standing off on the sidelines somewhere. But then, as we passed the place where all of the caddies were stored, Albert said "Wait a minute. I'll go get some of my wife's clubs."
Oh, dear. There's only one reason Alberto would get his wife's clubs: so I could play, too.
First, we went to the driving range. After several minutes of Alberto trying to show me how to hold the club right, I took a swing. And completely missed the ball. I tried again, and took a chunk out of the ground. Finally, I actually hit the ball, and it when flying off at an angle. Alberto was satisfied, and he left me to continue practicing.
After a little while, a group of small children came onto the driving range, so Alberto and I went to practice putting. I'm glad to report that putting went much better than driving did. Alberto and I had a small putting competition, and I won 2 out of 5 times! When we had finished putting, we went to practice hitting out of the sand. I just watched.
Alberto played a couple of holes, while I pulled the caddy. It was a beautiful day, the air was fresh and smelled faintly of flowers, and I enjoyed Alberto's company. So thanks, Alberto, for the lovely afternoon!
Thursday, March 13, 2008
France
I have so so SO much to write, and I don't know where to start! I suppose I'll just start from the beginning.
Sunday night, after dinner, my host mom took me to my first host family's house to spend the night. I had to be at school at 6:15 the next morning, and my first host family lives right across the street from the school. We had a late dinner Sunday night, so I didn't get to my first host family's house until about 9:45. My host mom and I chatted for a few minutes, then I went straight to bed.
Laying in bed, I realized the room smelled vaguely like lemon cleaner and coconut; just like it smelled my first night in Italy. A wave of memories washed over me. (I know that anaolgy is so third grade, but I've got nothing better at the moment)! and I realized how much has changed in these 6 short months-- how much I've changed. Thinking about all the things I've seen, done, and learned made me happy, but I also realized that things have changed back home, too. Although I know that logically, things in Virginia will be different when I go back, I don't think I've really accepted that idea yet. Somehow, I'm expecting to return to the Summer of 2007, but that's another post for another time. On with the epic tale of my trip to France!
Monday morning, I woke up at the ungodly hour of 5:30. It was dark and rainy outside, and I was disoriented. I rushed around, even though I had prepared everything the night before, even breakfast. I made it out the door at 6:12, and ran to the school. Thankfully, everyone else was arriving at the same time. Italians are notorious for being late, but that stereotype is less true in Northern Italy. In fact, we were on the highway by 6:30, on our way to a whole nother country!
A while ago, I bought the movie "The Guardian." I felt it would be the easiest way to explain what my father does (did) for a living. You'd be surprsied how often people ask me what my parents do, and don't understand what search and rescue is. We watched "The Guardian" and everyone was quite impressed. By the time the movie was over, we had reached the coast, so I spent the rest of the ride admiring the vastness of the Mediterranean and thinking deep thoughts.
The first stop we made was in a small town in France to se "la Turbie." It was a monument built by some Roman emperor, because he conquered a group of people. Or something like that. I wasn't really paying attention to the explination, as it was pouring rain, and my shoes were getting soaked. The town itself was beautiful, with narrow streets and patterned pavement, and after looking at the Turbie, the teacher gave us an hour for lunch. I walked into a little French deli, and completely forgot I was in France. I ordered a sandwhich in Italian, and then felt like a stupid tourist for not at least trying to order it in French.
It was a good sandwhich, though- chicken and cheese. Italians would never even think about putting chicken on a sandwhich, unless it was breaded and pan fried. A group of girls and I walked around the town a bit, and I ended up completely soaked, even the contents of my purse were wet. My passport is now warped and wrinkled, which worries me. Alliteration! We boarded the bus, and continued the trip to Arles, the city we were staying in.
We arrived in Arles ahead of schedule, and went straight to the city center to start out sightseeing. We saw an old church, an old monastary where cloistered monks used to hang out, and an ampitheater where they let lions loose on Christians. The day was overcast, but at least it wasn't raining. I was cold and wet, and really wanted to get to the hotel to change my socks, but I still managed to be awed by the fact that pretty much everything I saw was older than my country.
Finally, we went to the hotel. I was in a triple room, with a girl named Cristina, and another named Francesca. We got to the hotel at 6, and I was famished. Dinner wasn't until 7:30, and the hotel happened to be above a supermarket, so I went and found some crackers to tide me over until dinner.
At 7:30, we went to the restaurant in the hotel, and had French fries and fried chicken for dinner. Something tells me that we weren't eating typical French cuisine. After dinner, we all went back to our rooms. The Cristina and Francesca went to someone else's room, but I was beat, so I went straight to bed.
Breakfast Tuesday morning was at 7:30. I was ready by 7:10, but Cristina and Francesca were running a bit late. We went to the restaurant and had croissants and baguette for breakfast. Croissants aren't very filling, I found out, but the baguette was delicious. I didn't know bread could be so good! We ate breakfast, the Italians complaining that the coffee wasn't strong enough. After breakfast and brushing our teeth, we boarded the bus, off to see an old theater. Back at the school, I asked the secretary how much money I should bring with me. She told me that the hotel charged a 20 Euro insurance, but they would give the money back at the end of the stay if we hadn't broken anything. She then said that the only other thing I would have to worry about paying for was lunch. However, while on the trip I found out that we had to pay the entrance fees for all the things we would see. Now, I don't mind donating a few euro, but I think it's wrong to charge 6 euro to see a piece of history. Although I had brought plenty of money, I spent most of it on entrance fees, which irks me, but oh well. For the most part, it was worth it.
After the theater, we went to another gallery, where we saw more ancient Roman things: statues, mosaics, tablets, etc. It was pretty to look at, but all the description plaques were written in French, so most of the time I didn't know the sigificance of what I was looking at! After that, we went to the Pont du Gard, the ancient Roman acqueduct that I'm sure you've seen a picture of. That was pretty cool, probably my favorite part of the day. After admiring the aqueduct, we got back on the bus, went back to the city center, and were let loose for lunch. I got a little piece of pizza, which was completely unsatisfying, so I got a piece of quiche lorraine, too. I shared it, though, because I wanted to try an eclair!
Now, before I went on this trip, more than one person told me that the Italians and the French aren't exactly on good terms. Well, after seeing how my classmates behaved, I understand why! They marched around proudly, insulting the French loudly, and singing nationalistic songs. I tried my hardest to be a good, polite tourist. I smiled at people, said please and thank you in French, and when people spoke to me in English, I responded as best I could in French. People say that the French aren't very polite with tourists, but everyone I talked to was patient and friendly.
I had gone to lunch with Cristina and Francesca and some of the guys from the class. We got a bit lost, and one of the boys said "Well guys, all roads lead to Rome!" Now that I write it, it sounds silly, but at the time it made me chuckle.
We met back up in the city center and walked to an ancient Roman cemetary. After wandering through the cemetary, we walked to the ancient Roman baths. There was a little pamphlet about the baths, but it was written in English, so I had the pleasure of translating. Before we had gone into the baths, we were standing on a street corner when I noticed the clouds had parted, the sky was blue, and there was a light breeze. It smelled like Spring. I really had been enjoying the day, but that small moment filled me with a happiness to be alive. I was enjoying the beautiful day, and the novelty of being in Provence, France on a spring day, when a grandfatherly- looking man walked up to me. "Arles is a pretty city, isn't it?" he asked in Italian. I smiled, and replied that it was a beautiful city, and an especially lovely day. He asked where I was from, and assuming he realized I wasn't Italian, I told him I was American. In English, he said "Well, I hope you enjoy your time here in Arles," and he walked away.
After seeing the baths, we returned to the city center, saw the hospital where Van Gogh stayed, and then had more free time to walk around. We went back to the hotel, had an hour or so to relax, then had dinner again in the hotel restaurant. For the first course, we had a pastry thing with mushroom gravy, and for the second course, we had bean salad and a butterfly pork chop. I took about two bites of the pork, but it was dry. The Italians loved it, surprisingly. I suppose I have high standards, because my Dad and Cameron are the best grillers in the world.
After dinner, my classmates wanted to "go out" so we got back on the bus to search for a bar. The bus driver said he wouldn't be able to drive us back from the bar, though, so we had to stay within walking distance of the hotel. We didn't find anything, so we all returned to the hotel. A couple of girls came into my room, and we sat on the beds, eating and talking. For once, I felt like myself. It was great to relax and carry on girly conversations about boys and school, and for once I could actually find the words to say what I wanted to say. After about an hour, they went to their rooms, and I showered and went to bed, exhausted.
Wednesday was our last day in France. We breakfasted like we had the day before, packed our luggage, and boarded the bus. There happened to be a market Wednesday morning, so we stopped for an hour to see what they had to sell. The market was a little disappointing. The majority of the stands were run by south-Americans or Arabs, so the market wasn't exactly authentic French stuff. There were a couple of booths with cheeses and honeys and wines from the area that I would have liked to have looked at, but we left the market pretty quickly.
We got back on the bus and drove a little while to Avignon. We had a tour of the Papal Palace at 11:30, and we arrived well before then. As usual, we had an hour or so to wander around. The palace wasn't as stunning as I expected it to be. In fact, it was dark and even a tad depressing. The tour, however, was actually very interesting. There was something about the tour guide that made me want to listen to what she was saying. Perhaps it was the fact that she spoke Italian with a thick French accent, which I found amusing. After the tour of the palace, we had another hour to wander around for lunch. The city of Avignon is fantastic. I had to remind myself that it was a real city, a real place, not a set for a movie. There were little cafes everywhere, children scampering around piazzas, and people walking around with baguettes tucked under their arms. The sky was blue, the day was warm, and there was a strong wind, but it was a pleasant one. I felt like skipping and spinning and singing, I was so happy to be there. The only thing that was missing was my Mom. The day was perfect, but it was too perfect for just one person. I wanted to share it with someone who I knew would appreciate it as much as I did. Sadly, we had to board the bus at 2 in the afternoon to begin the journey home.
Even on the bus ride home, I was happy as a clam. We drove along the blue coast again, and the day was splendid. I spent the whole bus ride looking out the window, feeling content. After the sun set, the girls in the seats around me and I had another girly conversation. I didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable at all, and again I wished the day would never end.
A girl who I discovered lives down the street from me gave me a ride home, and I stood outside the house for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the view of the city streched out below. (The house is on top of a very high hill) Suddenly, I realized I was exhausted, so I went inside, said hello to my host parents, and went to bed.
Well, before I went to bed, my host mother told me she could take me to school an hour later the next day, so I could sleep in if I wanted. She also told me that she and her husband were going to a spa in Tuscany (I'm so jealous. But then again, I just had the world's best three days in France, and I'm content with that) today, Friday, and Saturday, and that I would be staying at Nonna's house, so I would need to pack for that.
I went to bed thoroughly pleased with my three days in France. I can't describe how fantastic everything was. I took several hundred pictures, but unfortunately they won't load on this computer.. so I'll leave it up to your imagination!
Au Revoir!
Sunday night, after dinner, my host mom took me to my first host family's house to spend the night. I had to be at school at 6:15 the next morning, and my first host family lives right across the street from the school. We had a late dinner Sunday night, so I didn't get to my first host family's house until about 9:45. My host mom and I chatted for a few minutes, then I went straight to bed.
Laying in bed, I realized the room smelled vaguely like lemon cleaner and coconut; just like it smelled my first night in Italy. A wave of memories washed over me. (I know that anaolgy is so third grade, but I've got nothing better at the moment)! and I realized how much has changed in these 6 short months-- how much I've changed. Thinking about all the things I've seen, done, and learned made me happy, but I also realized that things have changed back home, too. Although I know that logically, things in Virginia will be different when I go back, I don't think I've really accepted that idea yet. Somehow, I'm expecting to return to the Summer of 2007, but that's another post for another time. On with the epic tale of my trip to France!
Monday morning, I woke up at the ungodly hour of 5:30. It was dark and rainy outside, and I was disoriented. I rushed around, even though I had prepared everything the night before, even breakfast. I made it out the door at 6:12, and ran to the school. Thankfully, everyone else was arriving at the same time. Italians are notorious for being late, but that stereotype is less true in Northern Italy. In fact, we were on the highway by 6:30, on our way to a whole nother country!
A while ago, I bought the movie "The Guardian." I felt it would be the easiest way to explain what my father does (did) for a living. You'd be surprsied how often people ask me what my parents do, and don't understand what search and rescue is. We watched "The Guardian" and everyone was quite impressed. By the time the movie was over, we had reached the coast, so I spent the rest of the ride admiring the vastness of the Mediterranean and thinking deep thoughts.
The first stop we made was in a small town in France to se "la Turbie." It was a monument built by some Roman emperor, because he conquered a group of people. Or something like that. I wasn't really paying attention to the explination, as it was pouring rain, and my shoes were getting soaked. The town itself was beautiful, with narrow streets and patterned pavement, and after looking at the Turbie, the teacher gave us an hour for lunch. I walked into a little French deli, and completely forgot I was in France. I ordered a sandwhich in Italian, and then felt like a stupid tourist for not at least trying to order it in French.
It was a good sandwhich, though- chicken and cheese. Italians would never even think about putting chicken on a sandwhich, unless it was breaded and pan fried. A group of girls and I walked around the town a bit, and I ended up completely soaked, even the contents of my purse were wet. My passport is now warped and wrinkled, which worries me. Alliteration! We boarded the bus, and continued the trip to Arles, the city we were staying in.
We arrived in Arles ahead of schedule, and went straight to the city center to start out sightseeing. We saw an old church, an old monastary where cloistered monks used to hang out, and an ampitheater where they let lions loose on Christians. The day was overcast, but at least it wasn't raining. I was cold and wet, and really wanted to get to the hotel to change my socks, but I still managed to be awed by the fact that pretty much everything I saw was older than my country.
Finally, we went to the hotel. I was in a triple room, with a girl named Cristina, and another named Francesca. We got to the hotel at 6, and I was famished. Dinner wasn't until 7:30, and the hotel happened to be above a supermarket, so I went and found some crackers to tide me over until dinner.
At 7:30, we went to the restaurant in the hotel, and had French fries and fried chicken for dinner. Something tells me that we weren't eating typical French cuisine. After dinner, we all went back to our rooms. The Cristina and Francesca went to someone else's room, but I was beat, so I went straight to bed.
Breakfast Tuesday morning was at 7:30. I was ready by 7:10, but Cristina and Francesca were running a bit late. We went to the restaurant and had croissants and baguette for breakfast. Croissants aren't very filling, I found out, but the baguette was delicious. I didn't know bread could be so good! We ate breakfast, the Italians complaining that the coffee wasn't strong enough. After breakfast and brushing our teeth, we boarded the bus, off to see an old theater. Back at the school, I asked the secretary how much money I should bring with me. She told me that the hotel charged a 20 Euro insurance, but they would give the money back at the end of the stay if we hadn't broken anything. She then said that the only other thing I would have to worry about paying for was lunch. However, while on the trip I found out that we had to pay the entrance fees for all the things we would see. Now, I don't mind donating a few euro, but I think it's wrong to charge 6 euro to see a piece of history. Although I had brought plenty of money, I spent most of it on entrance fees, which irks me, but oh well. For the most part, it was worth it.
After the theater, we went to another gallery, where we saw more ancient Roman things: statues, mosaics, tablets, etc. It was pretty to look at, but all the description plaques were written in French, so most of the time I didn't know the sigificance of what I was looking at! After that, we went to the Pont du Gard, the ancient Roman acqueduct that I'm sure you've seen a picture of. That was pretty cool, probably my favorite part of the day. After admiring the aqueduct, we got back on the bus, went back to the city center, and were let loose for lunch. I got a little piece of pizza, which was completely unsatisfying, so I got a piece of quiche lorraine, too. I shared it, though, because I wanted to try an eclair!
Now, before I went on this trip, more than one person told me that the Italians and the French aren't exactly on good terms. Well, after seeing how my classmates behaved, I understand why! They marched around proudly, insulting the French loudly, and singing nationalistic songs. I tried my hardest to be a good, polite tourist. I smiled at people, said please and thank you in French, and when people spoke to me in English, I responded as best I could in French. People say that the French aren't very polite with tourists, but everyone I talked to was patient and friendly.
I had gone to lunch with Cristina and Francesca and some of the guys from the class. We got a bit lost, and one of the boys said "Well guys, all roads lead to Rome!" Now that I write it, it sounds silly, but at the time it made me chuckle.
We met back up in the city center and walked to an ancient Roman cemetary. After wandering through the cemetary, we walked to the ancient Roman baths. There was a little pamphlet about the baths, but it was written in English, so I had the pleasure of translating. Before we had gone into the baths, we were standing on a street corner when I noticed the clouds had parted, the sky was blue, and there was a light breeze. It smelled like Spring. I really had been enjoying the day, but that small moment filled me with a happiness to be alive. I was enjoying the beautiful day, and the novelty of being in Provence, France on a spring day, when a grandfatherly- looking man walked up to me. "Arles is a pretty city, isn't it?" he asked in Italian. I smiled, and replied that it was a beautiful city, and an especially lovely day. He asked where I was from, and assuming he realized I wasn't Italian, I told him I was American. In English, he said "Well, I hope you enjoy your time here in Arles," and he walked away.
After seeing the baths, we returned to the city center, saw the hospital where Van Gogh stayed, and then had more free time to walk around. We went back to the hotel, had an hour or so to relax, then had dinner again in the hotel restaurant. For the first course, we had a pastry thing with mushroom gravy, and for the second course, we had bean salad and a butterfly pork chop. I took about two bites of the pork, but it was dry. The Italians loved it, surprisingly. I suppose I have high standards, because my Dad and Cameron are the best grillers in the world.
After dinner, my classmates wanted to "go out" so we got back on the bus to search for a bar. The bus driver said he wouldn't be able to drive us back from the bar, though, so we had to stay within walking distance of the hotel. We didn't find anything, so we all returned to the hotel. A couple of girls came into my room, and we sat on the beds, eating and talking. For once, I felt like myself. It was great to relax and carry on girly conversations about boys and school, and for once I could actually find the words to say what I wanted to say. After about an hour, they went to their rooms, and I showered and went to bed, exhausted.
Wednesday was our last day in France. We breakfasted like we had the day before, packed our luggage, and boarded the bus. There happened to be a market Wednesday morning, so we stopped for an hour to see what they had to sell. The market was a little disappointing. The majority of the stands were run by south-Americans or Arabs, so the market wasn't exactly authentic French stuff. There were a couple of booths with cheeses and honeys and wines from the area that I would have liked to have looked at, but we left the market pretty quickly.
We got back on the bus and drove a little while to Avignon. We had a tour of the Papal Palace at 11:30, and we arrived well before then. As usual, we had an hour or so to wander around. The palace wasn't as stunning as I expected it to be. In fact, it was dark and even a tad depressing. The tour, however, was actually very interesting. There was something about the tour guide that made me want to listen to what she was saying. Perhaps it was the fact that she spoke Italian with a thick French accent, which I found amusing. After the tour of the palace, we had another hour to wander around for lunch. The city of Avignon is fantastic. I had to remind myself that it was a real city, a real place, not a set for a movie. There were little cafes everywhere, children scampering around piazzas, and people walking around with baguettes tucked under their arms. The sky was blue, the day was warm, and there was a strong wind, but it was a pleasant one. I felt like skipping and spinning and singing, I was so happy to be there. The only thing that was missing was my Mom. The day was perfect, but it was too perfect for just one person. I wanted to share it with someone who I knew would appreciate it as much as I did. Sadly, we had to board the bus at 2 in the afternoon to begin the journey home.
Even on the bus ride home, I was happy as a clam. We drove along the blue coast again, and the day was splendid. I spent the whole bus ride looking out the window, feeling content. After the sun set, the girls in the seats around me and I had another girly conversation. I didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable at all, and again I wished the day would never end.
A girl who I discovered lives down the street from me gave me a ride home, and I stood outside the house for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the view of the city streched out below. (The house is on top of a very high hill) Suddenly, I realized I was exhausted, so I went inside, said hello to my host parents, and went to bed.
Well, before I went to bed, my host mother told me she could take me to school an hour later the next day, so I could sleep in if I wanted. She also told me that she and her husband were going to a spa in Tuscany (I'm so jealous. But then again, I just had the world's best three days in France, and I'm content with that) today, Friday, and Saturday, and that I would be staying at Nonna's house, so I would need to pack for that.
I went to bed thoroughly pleased with my three days in France. I can't describe how fantastic everything was. I took several hundred pictures, but unfortunately they won't load on this computer.. so I'll leave it up to your imagination!
Au Revoir!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
It's March!?
When did that happen?
Saturday, the First of March, I went to Cremona with Rotary.
I had planned on skipping school on Saturday to catch a train to Milan, since the meeting point for going to Cremona was in Lodi, a place in Milan. Kristen and I had planned everything out, I had checked the train schedule, and we had decided to meet in the Piazza del Duomo. Then, Friday night, Alberto called. "I'm taking you to Cremona," he said, "so come to my house after school, we'll have lunch, and we'll drive to Cremona." Well, Ok then!
My host mom told me I could still skip school if I wanted, so Saturday morning I slept in, and we did the grocery shopping together. First, we went to the bakery for bread. Then we went to the water place for water. (Here in Italy, we drink water from glass bottles, all the time. This host family prefers San Pellegrino, so we buy it by the case.) After stopping for the water, we went to the market. We bought fresh pasta, fresh fruit and veg, and fresh fish. I took pictures at the market, because I was shocked by the live eels swimming in buckets, whole octopi laying in their ink, and an entire swordfish that was as big as me. Unfortunately, my host family's computer has a virus, so I can no longer upload photos.
After the market, we went to the meat shop, to get fresh cuts of meat for the week. It was charming to do the grocery shopping at the market, bakery, and meat shop, but I kind of like the convenience of supermarkets! I'm so American.
We went home, unloaded the car, and then Chicca dropped me off at Alberto's. We ate pasta and left at 1:00. It takes an hour and a half to get to Cremona, and the meeting in Cremona started at 3:30. Alberto always gets lost, though, and he likes to be early. Surprisingly, we didn't get lost on the way, but it did take us over half an hour to find a parking spot once we got to Cremona. We walked around the town center while waiting for the other students to arrive. I took pictures of the world's first clock and a tower that's important, but I can't remember why.
Finally, the other Rotary exchangees got there. I belong to Rotary district 2040, but this trip was organized by District 2050, so I met some other exchangees, too. We walked to a museum-type place, and listened to a maestro play an original Stradivarius: built in 1715. The sound was amazing, but I wasn't feeling well, so I didn't enjoy it as much as I should have. After the maestro finished playing, we were allowed to see the other instruments Stradivari and his son made. The "museum" was one room with a few violins and a cello. We were allowed into the room 10 at a time, and after everyone had seen the instruments, we left.
We walked to a violin workshop, where a man with crazy curly white hair and a vest told us about making violins. There were 20 or 30 of us, all crammed into a little room for almost 2 hours. My head was spinning by that point, so I didn't catch much of what the violin-maker was saying. Generally, people who are passionate about their work are interesting to listen to, so I was a little disappointed I wasn't able to pay better attention. We thanked the violin maker and left at about 6:15, but our restaurant reservations weren't until 7:30. Rotary took us to a bar, where we had aperitivi and talked.
One of the girls from the 2050 district, named Ray, took a small group of us to her favorite bar. I was impressed that the waiters knew her. We ordered drinks, and I was famished, so I got a plate of tramezzini to share. We sipped our drinks and munched on the tramezzini, and at 7 started talking to the restaurant.
Rotary had ordered a fixed menu for us, so there were two first courses and a choice of second course. We arrived at the restaurant at 7:30, and at 8:15 the first course arrived: risotto allo zafferano, and ravioli. The restaruant had made a mistake, though, and only made enough food for half of us! When Rotary realized this, they notified the manager. I didn't mind, I had my fill of ravioli. The boys, however, were still hungry. At 9:30, the second courses started coming out: either beef and polenta, or some kind of sausage and lentils. I had never had lentils before, so I decided to try them. The sausage was.. unusual, and I chose not to finish it. At 10:30, we left the restaurant. Alberto was taking Kailee, (the Australian) Kristen and I to Milan. By that time, I had completely lost my voice and we were all tired, so the car ride home was quiet. Alberto was going at least 95 MPH, and there was no one else on the highway, so he drifted from lane to lane. This is normal Italian driving, but it still scares the pants off me!
We got to Milan at about midnight, but traffic in Milan was awful. Alberto dropped Kristen and I off first, at about 12:30. I put on PJs and went stright to bed, but Kristen writes in her blog every day without fail, so she stayed up later than I did. I think she's crazy for doing that, because the next morning she had to get up at 5:30, to get ready for a school trip to Naples!
Sunday morning, Kristen left, and I continued to sleep. It was a tad awkward to wake up and not know if Kristen's host family knew I was still in Kristen's room, but thankfully Kristen had left a note for them. I got dressed, breakfasted with Silvia, Kristen's host sister, and ventured off into Milan on my own.
Saturday, the First of March, I went to Cremona with Rotary.
I had planned on skipping school on Saturday to catch a train to Milan, since the meeting point for going to Cremona was in Lodi, a place in Milan. Kristen and I had planned everything out, I had checked the train schedule, and we had decided to meet in the Piazza del Duomo. Then, Friday night, Alberto called. "I'm taking you to Cremona," he said, "so come to my house after school, we'll have lunch, and we'll drive to Cremona." Well, Ok then!
My host mom told me I could still skip school if I wanted, so Saturday morning I slept in, and we did the grocery shopping together. First, we went to the bakery for bread. Then we went to the water place for water. (Here in Italy, we drink water from glass bottles, all the time. This host family prefers San Pellegrino, so we buy it by the case.) After stopping for the water, we went to the market. We bought fresh pasta, fresh fruit and veg, and fresh fish. I took pictures at the market, because I was shocked by the live eels swimming in buckets, whole octopi laying in their ink, and an entire swordfish that was as big as me. Unfortunately, my host family's computer has a virus, so I can no longer upload photos.
After the market, we went to the meat shop, to get fresh cuts of meat for the week. It was charming to do the grocery shopping at the market, bakery, and meat shop, but I kind of like the convenience of supermarkets! I'm so American.
We went home, unloaded the car, and then Chicca dropped me off at Alberto's. We ate pasta and left at 1:00. It takes an hour and a half to get to Cremona, and the meeting in Cremona started at 3:30. Alberto always gets lost, though, and he likes to be early. Surprisingly, we didn't get lost on the way, but it did take us over half an hour to find a parking spot once we got to Cremona. We walked around the town center while waiting for the other students to arrive. I took pictures of the world's first clock and a tower that's important, but I can't remember why.
Finally, the other Rotary exchangees got there. I belong to Rotary district 2040, but this trip was organized by District 2050, so I met some other exchangees, too. We walked to a museum-type place, and listened to a maestro play an original Stradivarius: built in 1715. The sound was amazing, but I wasn't feeling well, so I didn't enjoy it as much as I should have. After the maestro finished playing, we were allowed to see the other instruments Stradivari and his son made. The "museum" was one room with a few violins and a cello. We were allowed into the room 10 at a time, and after everyone had seen the instruments, we left.
We walked to a violin workshop, where a man with crazy curly white hair and a vest told us about making violins. There were 20 or 30 of us, all crammed into a little room for almost 2 hours. My head was spinning by that point, so I didn't catch much of what the violin-maker was saying. Generally, people who are passionate about their work are interesting to listen to, so I was a little disappointed I wasn't able to pay better attention. We thanked the violin maker and left at about 6:15, but our restaurant reservations weren't until 7:30. Rotary took us to a bar, where we had aperitivi and talked.
One of the girls from the 2050 district, named Ray, took a small group of us to her favorite bar. I was impressed that the waiters knew her. We ordered drinks, and I was famished, so I got a plate of tramezzini to share. We sipped our drinks and munched on the tramezzini, and at 7 started talking to the restaurant.
Rotary had ordered a fixed menu for us, so there were two first courses and a choice of second course. We arrived at the restaurant at 7:30, and at 8:15 the first course arrived: risotto allo zafferano, and ravioli. The restaruant had made a mistake, though, and only made enough food for half of us! When Rotary realized this, they notified the manager. I didn't mind, I had my fill of ravioli. The boys, however, were still hungry. At 9:30, the second courses started coming out: either beef and polenta, or some kind of sausage and lentils. I had never had lentils before, so I decided to try them. The sausage was.. unusual, and I chose not to finish it. At 10:30, we left the restaurant. Alberto was taking Kailee, (the Australian) Kristen and I to Milan. By that time, I had completely lost my voice and we were all tired, so the car ride home was quiet. Alberto was going at least 95 MPH, and there was no one else on the highway, so he drifted from lane to lane. This is normal Italian driving, but it still scares the pants off me!
We got to Milan at about midnight, but traffic in Milan was awful. Alberto dropped Kristen and I off first, at about 12:30. I put on PJs and went stright to bed, but Kristen writes in her blog every day without fail, so she stayed up later than I did. I think she's crazy for doing that, because the next morning she had to get up at 5:30, to get ready for a school trip to Naples!
Sunday morning, Kristen left, and I continued to sleep. It was a tad awkward to wake up and not know if Kristen's host family knew I was still in Kristen's room, but thankfully Kristen had left a note for them. I got dressed, breakfasted with Silvia, Kristen's host sister, and ventured off into Milan on my own.
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