Sorry About Living

Sorry for not writing in a while. Been a bit busy lately. Went to Florence and spent a stupid amount of money on presents for myself. Sorry to anyone who expects a gift from Italy, no room in my luggage with all my gifts for myself :). Anyway, I've been doing a lot lately, saw the Vatican museums yesterday and the Colosseum today. Tomorrow I'm going to go to Piazza Navona and buy art. Then after that, I leave Rome. WTF. Where have I even been the last four and a half weeks??? Living in Rome aparently. Who knows, really. I'll be honest, I have mixed feelings about leaving Rome. It's definitely not my favorite city in Italy (thinking Florence might be) but at the same time I teared up on Monday at the thought of leaving and not hsving enough time. I have done a lot in the last week to finish up my experiences and mostly I am exhausted from it. Last Thursday I walked from the Spanish Steps to the Trevi fountain to the Pantheon at dusk in the rain while wearing sandals. One of my happiest memories in Rome, being by myself, soaked and soaking it all in. I've done a lot of walking to cramp everything in. My back hurts, my knees creak, and even my good ankle hurts. Oh God. I'm getting old. How did that happen at the age of 20? There are women with white hair and a cane walking faster than me at the end of the day. Today I woke up at 7, saw the Colosseum, and cane home at 10:30 and slept for two hours. So much for taking advantage of my last few days. I'm going to get to my host family and collapse in a big pile og aching muscles and stiff joints. They thought they were adopting a nice American daughter, not a grandmother with a bad back and a slight limp. I'm nervous about my host family. I'm sure they are nice and friendly and clean and good cooks-- but I'll never know given that my Italisn has not improved in the last four and a half weeks. Everyone in Rome speaks English, leaving me with no way to practice. And with a loose school schedule, I haven'y learned much through school (don't tell my professors I said that!). So communication is gunna be complicated for at least the first little bit. Keep on keepin' on!

A Word on Food

Food is, like, a big thing here. But Italy isn't like America in their food culture. If you want good food in Italy you get Italian food. If you want good food in America you get whatever you want. The best food in my home town isn't necessarily American food. The best food in SF isn't necessarily American food. The best food in Seattle isn't necessarily American food. Not only does non-Italian food not live up to expectations, it is hard to find. On top of my head I can think of two places-- Mcdonalds and a Tex Mex place. Neither of which I am honestly even remotely interested in eating.

But on the other hand, it is really hard to find bad food here. Even the 3 euro pizza is good-- gourmet compared to the comprably-priced Hot-And-Ready Little Caeasers back home. If you do give in to eatting only Italian food, you're basically guaranteed high quality.

While living in Rome, I have eatten out for almost every lunch and only eatten out for dinner once. Lunch time food consists of 3 euro pizza or paninis most days, but dinners get pricey so making my own food had been helpful in saving money. And pasta is pretty hard to screw up.

My new favorite thing is frying up salami and adding it to whatever dish you are making. Bread and brie cost pennies so they serve as good snack food, and Italians have absolutely perfected sugar cookies. When in doubt, eat nutella.

Also, gelato is a must all day everyday. If you walk past a gelato place and DON'T get some, you are actually breaking Roman law. It's best to quietly comply. And don't just try one flavor over and over. In America it is exceptable to claim chocolate or vanilla or coffee is your favorite flavor-- but here you can't just get the same thing. You will find flavors you didn't even know existed in icecream, and with gelato places, it's pretty common to get two or three flavors so find a couple that sound good together and enjoy!

Wine is wine, honestly. I mean, being on a budget makes buying the expensive wines impractical, but as far as I can tell anything from 1-7 euros is all the same. Better than two buck chuck, but nothing worth noting.

Coffee is complex here. Italians are perhaps the only people in the world who have been able to combat the American coffee/ Starbucks influence. If you order a latte you get milk, usually warm, sometimes steamed, and always always disappointing. This has never happened to me, but I have watched, cappucino in hand, while my friend stares blankly and a steaming mug of white liquid, wanted to laugh but mustering a sigh instead. It's an easy mistake. The only complaint I have is that there is no consistency in price for a coffee. In a bar in my neighborhood a cappucino is 1.50. In my friend's neighborhood it is 1.00. In the bar near school it is 3.00. In a bar a block away it is 2.00. And in the vending machine in our school building is .50. I'd like to say you buy what you pay for, but really that's not the case. Well it is to some extent-- the fifty cent vending machine cappucino doesn't stack up to the 3.00 one but I'm not gunna lie, the vending machine makes a better cappucino than Seattle and I rather have six dixie cups worth of that, than one dixie cup at the bar downstairs. That's my other complaint with Italian coffee culture. EVERYTHING IS SERVED IN A DIXIE CUP. Where is my extra extra large to-go cup???

Buona Pasqua

Buona Pasqua everyone! Today I saw the Pope, again. I went to Easter mass at the Vatican, NBD. And although, I don't think church services are for me, my first (and probably last) Easter mass was pretty epic. It's just so slow going, and in Latin, and you have to stand and sit down and stand and sit down-- it's exhausting. But totally worth it. Now that's what I call a once in a life time experience. Afterwards, the group I was in went and got maybe the best pizza I've had all trip! It was fantastic, but we were also starving so that might have helped.

Last night it was one of my friend's birthday so we went over to his apartment and later went out to a pub. There are a stupid amount of Irish pubs in Italy. I had a Guinness because after the program is over I am going to Ireland for almost two weeks. I'm very excited, but I also don't want to look lame, so I've decided to take the time to aquire a taste for Guinness. And, actually, it's not even that bad. I'm so ready for Ireland. (Not that the next 8 weeks aren't gunna be crazy cool too!)

A few days ago I had a nightmare that as I was leaving all I could think was, I need one more week! I haven't done everything! It was a stressful dream, because that's kind of how I feel. We are officially into week three and in less then three weeks we will leave Rome. Tomorrow we don't have school. Time to grab Rome by the balls.

Trying to Take It All In

It's a rainy day in Rome. Which makes me feel slightly better about being so lazy. There is something about a full week in Rome that is exhausting. You are constantly being bombarded by things- language, food, culture, people, architecture- it's easy to get over stimulated. So today is a good day to rest, read, and write. 

Do you ever get the feeling that you are experiencing so many things at such a rapid fire pace that you can't possibly be able to appreciate them or recall them to the extent that you would like? I am trying to take things slow here in Rome, I have three more weeks, I don't need to rush around and see everything at once. But it ends up happening anyway. No matter how slow I try to take things there is just too much to see-- even when you're not looking. 

Yesterday is a perfect example. 

I visited four churches in Rome- La Chiesa Del Gesu, La Chiesa di Sant'Ignazio de Loyola a Campo Marzio, Basilica di Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, and San Luigi dei Francesi- all with significant both historic and artistic- just don't ask me for more details then that. The churches run together after a while, especially when you see them one directly after the other. 

Then, while trying to take the bus back to my appartment, I took the wrong bus and ended up by the Vatican city. I took the metro back to my apartment, grabbed a quick lunch of brie, salami and bread, lay on my bed for 20 minutes with my eyes closed, and powerwalked 30 minutes to my next adventure. 

I met three other girls at a museum with an exhibit featuring Salvador Dali. I had seen several of his pieces before, especially the ones that have made it into mainstream pop culture, so when I saw the sign for the exhibit I wanted to go. At first it was a casual desire, but then after several failed attempts at going, I became obessed with seeing this museum. I tried to see the exhibit on Monday but slept through my alarm. Wednesday I had planned a group trip but we had a group excursion. Same with Thursday. On Friday I WOULD NOT BE STOPPED. And I realized, I LOVE DALI. I don't even know how to describe my love. He is so cool. He just is so weird. I think he taps into a whimsical side of me, he's work is so specific, so distinct. I know he is a surrealist (there is a quote from him that says, "The difference between me and surrealists is that I am surreal") but his work captures emotion and reality so concisely. Kinda wish I was his muse....... Ahhh well..

On the way out of the exhibit we stumbled upon a second artist, named Enzo Fiore, who I also really liked. He does portraits and sculptures using resin, dirt, sticks, roots, and bugs. Very cool, you should google him.

After the museum we met a couple of other people and headed to an early dinner. This was my first meal out for dinner, and we all splurged. It was wonderful. I started the evening with some bread and balsamic vinegar-oil mixture, a glass of red wine, moved onto bruschetta, then spaghetti, and finished with some tiramisu and sparkling wine. $27 later I was very satisfied with my meal out. I've been trying to save money and cooking for myself, which is really actually quick fun and delicious, but I feel like I'm missing part of the experience if you don't eat out!

After that we caught a bus to the Colosseum to see the Pope. No big deal really. I'm not religious but I think that seeing the Pope is kinda a once in a life time sorta thing, so we had to at least stop by and hear him speak. Except he just stood there for an hour while religious things  in Italian happened (aka, doubly confusing to me). Then for the last 15 minutes he said some stuff that I actually did understand a little bit of because he spoke very slowly. So yeah, that happened. 

We had planned to see a movie last night too but the Pope took too long so we ended our night there and I went to bed, my feet burning, my head swirling, and my whole soul glowing. 

This is my life everyday. I can't always write it down, I can't remember every detail, every taste, every conversation, every picturesque moment, every laugh, every adrenaline rush, and it absolutely kills me. 

Last night, the moon was full as it shown over the Colosseum. The Colosseum was lit up and everything seemed to glow. Nuns and priests flocked in groups of black, white, and grey towards the stage where the Pope would be. I saw so many wonderful things yesterday and that is the one image that is completely concrete. And that is a little stupid I think. 

Customs

Here we are, in the evenings it is customary to eat lots of pasta and drink lots of wine. I try very hard not to defy the customs of the country I am in. Thus, pasta and wine almost every night. It is also customary to eat pizza for lunch for very cheap and drink caffe slowly in tiny cups. Thus I have done plenty of that to. Siesta is customary in the afternoons and I take them very seriously-- as do Italians, as they often shut down the city in order to take a rest from their busyyyyy (sarcasm) Roman lives. It is also a custom to go very slowly-- lento-- and I am very good at that. I am in no rush here and it is INCREDIBLE. No agenda, no pressure, no fast paced craziness. Just... lento... Mmmmmmm... So now I am following customs by drinking wine very very slowly. :)

Culture Shock

Culture shock is definitely a thing. I consider myself a pretty worldly individual but I am starting to recognize a pretty distinct schism between Italy and America. There are these small inconsistencies that amount to not much more than inconveniences, but still make complete comfort here a slow transition.

1. Grocery stores close by 8pm. No late night mega-stores to satifify midnight cravings. If you realize at 7:30 you have no food for dinner you best run if you want to eat something reasonable.

2. Italian women are no where to be found. In social contexts there are no women. That I can find. If you walk into a bar it is 99% male-- the 1% are girlfriends who are dragged to bars by their boyfriends. At first I thought it was just the bars that we had stumbled upon-- maybe it was just that we had only been able to find sport bars, whatever. Incorrect. Italian women do not socialize publicly, as far as I can tell. How do I make friends with them, I ask you?

3. Men are not friends. If you are a woman you do not make friends with men. You are not a "bro". You are a sweet-smelling snack for all men to gobble up. If you deny their sexual advances they immediately move on to the next female morsel. Given my disinterest in these men I find myself trailing after my roommates and their male-callers.

4. No means maybe. Whether it is a man or a vendor, no doesn't mean no here. I find saying "vi via" works pretty well, if only because they are stunned that I would tell them to go away. If that doesn't work, throwing in "cretino" doesn't hurt, as long as you are confident that if they get offended you could take them.

5. There are no lines. We are so polite in American, we form ques everywhere. If you want something here you best be ready to push through a crowd to get it-- from a bus to gelato. Don't wait, just go. This also applies to crossing the street, but do this at your own risk.

6. Cars can do whatever the fuck they want. I love being in a car here, but I would never drive here. Taxis are absolutely insane and bus drivers in Rome make the ones in Seattle look like timid bitches. There is no one way, do not enter, or stop sign that would deter any vehicle for long. And stoplights seem to be logical guidelines. At the same time I have seen no one hurt by car here, so this system works, even if it keeps your adrenaline pumping.

7. Nothing is open on Sunday. Or in the afternoons. Romans take their rest periods very seriously. Don't expect much from a siesta-ing Italian.

8. Customer service is not, like, a thing here. Nor is service with a smile. They're straight up with how they feel about you as a customer. It's uncomfortable at the worst and funny at the best.

That's all I can think of at the moment. There are more, certainly, but those are the most obvious/disturbing to me. Especially the gender relations here-- I am very curious to observe that further.