Mercato dell'Erbe

I did not want to get out of bed this morning. Getting out of bed meant facing the cold weather, studying for exams, and interacting with people.

However, after somehow living off of very little food in the refrigerator for the past week, I convinced myself last night that today I would finally go to the Mercato dell’Erbe. I was a bit apprehensive, having very little experience purchasing produce according to weight. Since it is Thursday, most shops in Bologna close for the afternoon. The mercato is no exception, which meant that I really did have to get out of bed if I wanted to do my shopping on time. I thought about how easy it would be to just go to the supermarket around the corner, but after having been to the mercato with my parents, it seemed sacrilegious (and more expensive) to buy produce at the COOP. While I lamented to myself about how far away the market was (about a 20 minute walk), I realized that were I home, I would gladly make the trek to another city just for food (n.b. the subjunctive does exist in English). Yet something about the way Bologna is divided makes “going into the city center” such a hassle. Maybe (most likely) I’m just lazy.

Everyone at the market was so friendly and helpful, and I left feeling very proud and accomplished. Vito the Pugliese bread man (whom I met with my parents) remembered me. The lady at the salumeria gave me a sample of salami al contadino. My only setback was buying potatoes. As I mentioned before, I’m not so familiar with weight. Usually, when buying something like pancetta, un etto is enough: 100 grams. Apparently, un etto di patate is about half a potato. The guy probably thought I was insane, but he warmed up after I explained what I wanted. It turns out a kilo of potatoes is much more reasonable. As with everything here, it’s a learning process.

I also finished some Christmas shopping, which put me in an even better mood. Every day the weather forecast changes…they are predicting snow on Saturday, but I won’t believe it until I see it. Everyone else said it snowed in the city center for two minutes the other day, but I think they were lying. Even though I prefer my winter days to be dry and 60, I am looking forward to a White Christmas this year. Every street in Bologna is strung with lights, making the city sparkle with Christmas charm.

Well, that’s all for now. A dopo!

They're Digging In The Wrong Place

I cannot remember the last time I had a traditional Thanksgiving meal. One year, my dad made turkey-shaped polenta squares with cranberry butter. That’s about as close as it ever got, unless I am somehow repressing those memories of turkey, gravy, stuffing, and pumpkin pie. Until I started college, we spent most Thanksgivings in LA, where we substituted squab for turkey, almond and orange peel rice for mashed potatoes, and baba ghanoush for gravy. Egyptian, Persian, Armenian, even Chinese dishes have made their way onto our Thanksgiving table. This year, we had Egyptian food again, but this time, we weren't in LA: we were in Cairo.

My parents have wanted to go to Egypt for a while now. When my dad asked me if I wanted to join them after they visited me in Bologna, I of course said yes. I am very thankful for the opportunities my parents have given me, especially those that have allowed me to travel, so spending Thanksgiving in Cairo seemed to be quite appropriate. I need to preface my story with that disclaimer so as not to seem ungrateful or bratty. I really am happy to have seen a new country (and new continent!).

However, visiting a third-world, Muslim country as a socially liberal Western female was extremely challenging. I wanted to love my experience in Cairo, surrounded by years of ancient history and archaeological wonder. I also wanted to have an open-mind toward a lifestyle that was completely foreign to me. Unfortunately, the culture shock was too much. The culmination of the dirty streets, non-stop honking, rabid dogs, unbearable pollution, constant male gazing (yeah, it was even worse than Italy), the complete lack of autonomy, and the protests in Tahrir square, minutes from our hotel, was overwhelming and frustrating. Despite all of the difficulty, the cool parts of Egypt were just that: very, very cool.

The Pyramids at Giza. As with most world wonders, it is impossible to accurately capture the feeling of being in their presence. I could flip through the dictionary to find the right word – immense, powerful, awesome – but what comes to mind instead is “humbling” (although, perhaps, “over-compensating” may be more appropriate for my more cynical readers…). Even the hoards of souvenir vendors and semi-serious marriage offers (my going rate was about 200 camels and 4 Ferraris) could not detract from the ancient architectural ingenuity. We took a camel ride through the desert to reach the pyramids, which was definitely more impressive than my first camel ride at the Buffalo Zoo.

We also saw Memphis, the ancient capital, and Saqqara, the site of the first step-pyramid. The highlight of the trip for me, however, was the Royal Mummy exhibit at the Egyptian Museum. I’m not just saying that because my dad spent an extra 10 dollars for the separate admission ticket. The Pharaohs, who spent so much of their lives preparing for the after-life, really did achieve immortality. They are remembered thousands of years after their deaths by people from all over the world. The exhibit was divided into two separate rooms, and the mummies were covered from the neck down to their ankles. So yes, that means their faces and feet were completely uncovered. I stared into the blackened, shriveled face of Ramses II; he, thankfully, did not stare back.

When I landed in Italy, I must admit I was relieved to be back in familiar territory. I am still unsure whether my experience in Egypt has dissuaded me from travelling to more non-European countries or whether it will propel me toward further adventure. I certainly hope the latter. For the time being, though, I am in no hurry to return to Cairo.

Everyday Challenges

Living in a foreign country has its challenges. Some are monumental: the language barrier, the separation from friends and family, the cultural differences. Yet these challenges are to be expected. My Italian is competent. I keep in touch with people back home as much as possible. A Western country like Italy does not present that extreme of a culture shock. Despite the constant presence of various difficulties, I am not overwhelmed. 

These kinds of challenges remind me of the imperfetto, one of the past tenses in Italian. The imperfetto can, among other things, describe a habitual action or set a scene. The larger challenges of living abroad exist in the background. At the same time, there are distinct moments of difficulty as well. These are the unexpected (and usually embarrassing) ones. Like another Italian past tense, the passato prossimo, the everyday challenges happen in an instant and have an exact finish. They occur at a specific point in time.

But I am not here to give a grammar lesson. Simple tasks such as grocery shopping have proven to be a source of stress and humiliation. The other day I went to the COOP (a supermarket). To avoid human interaction, I went through the self-checkout. The computer screen gave me a choice between Italian and English, and I figured I should choose English in case there were any important steps. Well, apparently “English” also means “incredibly loud and conspicuous,” because the machine immediately started speaking to me. “WELCOME TO THE COOP SELF-CHECKOUT,” it screamed. Everyone in the store whipped around to locate the foreigner as she shoved money into the machine, grabbed her cinnamon, and escaped. The next day, I needed to go back to the COOP for some juice. I brought ten euro with me, figuring I would buy some bread and pesto as well. The produce section is at the entrance to the store, and when I walked in, I thought, “Huh, fruit would be nice.” So I grabbed a bag of plums and a bag of clementines. Then I walked by the dairy: “Huh…haven’t had milk in a while…” Pesto area: “Oooooh, I’ve been meaning to get balsamic vinegar…” When I arrived at the self-checkout, I picked Italian. Nothing. The English version is much friendlier than the Italian one, I guess. There was a long line waiting to checkout, so I tried to hurry. Grand total: 15 euro. I was five euro short…and since it was a self-checkout, there was no way to cancel the items! Feeling extremely anxious and self-conscious, I asked a COOP employee for help. I reluctantly gave up one carton of juice and the clementines, bringing the bill to 11.66 euro. I scrounged around in my wallet for change. I was flustered as I handed her cent after cent, unable to do the simple math. After an eternity of embarrassment, I thanked her profusely and left.

I suppose the only true difference (quality of food aside) between grocery shopping in the US and grocery shopping in Italy is the currency. My lack of familiarity with the euro was a minor impediment; in reality, the source of my embarrassment at the COOP was me. At the same time, there are potential challenges within any social interaction, so I should not dwell too much on my mistakes.

That said, it should not take an hour to borrow a library book. This next anecdotal challenge occurred as a result of difference, rather than personal error. Tuesday, I went to the library at the Department of Archaeology to find a book on the Etruscans. There were three separate rooms, so I picked the one with books that were not behind glass doors. I casually scanned the shelves, very aware of the room’s silence. They were labeled ARCH, MED, R, etc. Definitely not the Dewey Decimal System. After a tour of the entire room, I decided that my books were not there. I checked the computer and saw that two were checked out, and one was at the Department of Ancient History. I went upstairs to the Department of History library. As I strolled in and marched up to a shelf, both librarians stopped their work, heads turned toward me. “You have to leave your bag at the front,” they said, as I wilted into world of wrongdoing, resigned to my new fate as a criminal. I put my bag down and explained that I was looking for a book and that I didn’t know how to use the library. One of the librarians sat down at the computer with me to find my textbooks. Apparently, I was in the wrong library. There was a copy of another book in the Archaeology library, so I asked him how to find a book. He explained it, but I understood nothing. I went back downstairs to the other library and asked a different librarian the same question. I left my bag at her desk and descended underground into the stacks, which were surrounded by medieval walls. I found the book after consulting a map (it was under ETR for Etruscans…). Then, the student librarian asked me for some form of ID. Since my Unibo student ID apparently was not enough to prove that I am an existent human being, I gave her my driver’s license. She asked me for my date of birth and my nationality…which should have been pretty obvious considering the official state document in her hands. I didn’t know if it was a test or if she didn’t know how to read my license. Finally, after giving her every detail of my life, I was able to walk away with the book and my bag. Moral of the story: stealing a library book in Italy is probably a more significant crime than anything the Mafia could ever conceive of doing.

At the end of my year abroad, I will have learned how to overcome those monumental challenges. My Italian will have improved dramatically. A shorter period of time will stand between me and my loved ones. I will have broken into the Italian culture and immersed myself. In short, they will become a part of that imperfect past.

The same cannot be said for everyday challenges.

World Travelers

Last Saturday, I woke up at 5:30 am to leave for Riomaggiore, which is one of the towns in Cinque Terre. I hustled through the streets of Bologna to catch my 6:28 train at the station, where I met 9 other people from my study abroad group. We arrived at our hostel around 10:30. Mamma Rossa, the seventy-nine year old owner, greeted us at the door. The ten of us took a quick walk around the town, and then we headed to the beach. We spent the day enjoying both the sun and the refreshing salt water of the Mediterranean, saving our energy for Sunday’s trek.

Cinque Terre is composed of five main towns: Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso al Mare. The first two are connected by the “Via dell’Amore”, about a 20 minute walk. The pathway has not missed out on the popular tradition of “love locks”: couples write their initials on a lock, chain it to the fence, and throw the key into a body of water. The trail from Manarola to Corniglia was blocked due to landslides, so we had to take the train. In Corniglia, we stopped for pesto lasagna. After lunch, I had cinnamon and honey gelato…a perfect snack for the hour-long hike to Vernazza. The sea beneath us, trees around us, and friendly conversation distracted our minds from the heat. I decided to skip the next hike though, so Grace and I took another train to the last town, Monterosso. We relaxed on the beach with some other girls from the group. For dinner, we had focaccia: pesto for me and ricotta (I think) for Grace. I think it might have been the most delicious food I’ve had so far.

After dinner, the two of us hopped on the train to Pisa. For anyone who hasn’t been…well, a day in Pisa is more than enough time. We went directly to our hostel, where I went to bed. I had a full night’s sleep, so by the time we checked out at 11 am, I was ready to face the rather unexciting city. I took my obligatory picture with the tower (you know the one…pretending to hold it up, pretending to push it over, pretending to lean against it…). After a quick peek inside the duomo, we headed to the university area for lunch. I decided that I prefer Unibo to UniPi (that’s the name I made up for the University of Pisa…). Nevertheless, Grace and I rested in a park while I ate a lemon and berry gelato. Pisa was filled with tourists, unlike Bologna, and since it is a relatively small city, there’s not much to do for free. Despite my rather lackluster experience, at least now I can say that I have been. Plus, I had Paris on my mind…

When Grace and I landed at Paris-Beauvais, a sense of extreme happiness overcame me. I saw Carole through the security doors, and I knew that I had made the right decision. (I already had plans to visit Paris again for Christmas, and part of me had felt that I should go somewhere new during my week of vacation). The Dattins are my third family (after my own and the Hamners). Their eldest daughter Orianne stayed with me for 6 weeks the summer I graduated high school, and their eldest son Thibaut stayed with the Hamners in Piedmont last summer. Phil and Jack Hamner, my surrogate brothers, and I returned to France with Thibaut last July to stay with the Dattins and travel around France. Basically, the Dattins are a really special part of my life. Needless to say, I was excited to see them again.

Tuesday morning, Grace and I tried to get into Paris. There was a slight incident with the trains: all service to our stop was halted for two hours. I thought Carole had told me that she would be back for lunch, so we decided to go back to the house. Miraculously, as we were walking along one of the bigger streets in Carrières, Carole pulled up! It turns out she usually doesn’t go back to the house for lunch on Tuesdays, but she had forgotten her lunch at home. Nous avons eu de la chance! She took us to the next town, where we caught the train into the city. I have been to Paris several times before, so I am more or less familiar with where things are. We took the metro to the Bastille and made our way to the Place de Vosges. We wandered through the Marais, sharing a falafel sandwich from L’As du Falafel. From there, Grace and I headed to the Rue de Rivoli. We stopped into the city hall to see an exhibit about the “Vel’ d’Hiv Roundup”. During July 1942, French police arrested thousands of Jews and kept them in the velodrome of Paris, where they awaited deportation. It was not a proud moment for the French, and the exhibit commemorated the 70^th anniversary as a tribute. From there, Grace and I walked to Notre Dame. Since there were so few tourists, we only waited 10 minutes to get inside! After, we stopped at Shakespeare and Company, followed by the Louvre (we didn’t go inside) and the Tuileries. Then we headed to the Eiffel Tower. To see so many things in one day seems like quite an accomplishment to me!

The next day we saw Montmartre, Sacré Coeur, the Moulin Rouge, Place Pigalle, Père Lachaise, and the Arc de Triomphe. We met up with Cassidy, a friend from our Bologna program, at a Canadian bar in the student area. Even though it had only been a few days since we left the others in Cinque Terre, it was nice to see a familiar face. On our way back to the Dattins’, Carole told us that the kids were finishing up a music lesson. She dropped us off at Arthur’s school, and we caught the last 15 minutes of the lesson. Thibaut made a point of telling us that it was the first time they had played that piece. We also saw a hedgehog outside of the school building as we were leaving!

Thursday, we went to Compiègne to visit Orianne. It was an hour away by car, but Carole needed to go there anyway to bring Orianne a chair for her adorable apartment. We went to a château that Napolean had used for hunting on the weekends. After, we walked around the town and saw the university. It was probably the ugliest building I’ve ever seen! (Don’t worry, Orianne admits it as well.)

We had to say goodbye to everyone Thursday night since we wouldn’t see them Friday morning before we left. Even though it was such a short trip, I am so happy that I had the opportunity to see the Dattins again. I am even more excited than I was to return for Christmas!

As my final hours of vacation are dwindling, I am becoming anxious for classes to start tomorrow. I know that it’s nothing I can’t handle, but the fear of the unknown is overwhelming. If anything, I will always have Paris!

Aspettate un momento

In this post, I will aim to give each moment of last week the attention it deserves, despite how many moments there were. I have never been very disciplined when it comes to keeping a daily journal (even those that were required). So this blog is kind of a miracle.

Let’s start with Saturday. I went to two different festivals last Saturday. In the morning, I volunteered with P.A.C.E., which has several programs dedicated to teaching English to Italian children. We had two arts and crafts booths. I spent my four-hour shift making maracas out of plastic water bottles. You basically talk at the kids, even if they don’t understand. First, you ask them what color rice they want to put in their shaker. “We have bluuuuue rice, and piiiiiink rice, and puuuurple rice…” Then, the kids get to put multicolored electrical tape on their bottles. Finally, we gave them each a cool sticker with English words: “Great!” “Awesome!” “Way to Go!” It was a lot more fun than I expected. In October, P.A.C.E. is organizing a Halloween party, so I am planning to volunteer then too.

Next, I met up with Grace to go to the festival in Via Broccaindosso, where we stayed with Eli. When we arrived, everyone had brought their tables outside, where all the neighbors dined together. Since it was lunchtime, nothing much was happening. So she and I (and our friend Natalia) continued back to Grace’s apartment. We did see Eli briefly, and he said to come by later. At Grace’s, we watched a fantastic and relevant film called L’Auberge Espagnole. It is about a young French guy who does a study abroad program in Barcelona. I really loved it, and I recommend it to anyone who wants to know the truth about what I’m doing here (just kidding!). The three of us went back to Eli’s, where we had Eritrean food made by an Eritrean woman. Eli is such a sweetheart. It’s nice having a different kind of friend in a foreign country.

On Sunday, Natalia and I went to the antiques market near Santo Stefano. It is really fascinating how despite the geographical difference, many items were the same as American ones. At the same time, something typical of the 60s in Italy might be completely different from its American counterpart. Afterward, we ate at the Cremeria Sette Chiese, where I had coffee gelato and nutella gelato. (Santo Stefano, which is the place we visited in the rain, is alternatively called “Sette Chiese” because it is comprised of seven different churches). I am still on the hunt to find the best gelato in Bologna.

Monday, nothing of consequence happened, as far as I can remember. Tuesday night, we all went to this club called Sodapops. It was ERASMUS Student Welcome Night. The ERASMUS program is an exchange program for EU students (in fact, the guy in the French film was ERASMUS). Frequently Americans are grouped into ERASMUS as well, even though a lot of times that gives us a bad reputation. However, we are not technically ERASMUS. Anyway, a girl in my program found a job at Sodapops, and part of her first day of work was drawing students to the club. I think pretty much everyone in the program came by to support her. Despite the annoying, pathetic Italian guys, we had a lot of fun. I should probably clarify this definition. Everyone comes to Italy with the expectation that the male species are a cut above the rest: beautiful, romantic, sentimental. Well, they are certainly a different species. They will do anything to get a girl’s attention. I have been told that I have nice shoes, that I am loved, that I am cattiva (which can mean bad, awful, hurtful, bitchy…take your pick. I’m inclined to think the worst. Basically, I was on my way to class one day when this guy tried to say hi. He wouldn’t let me pass, and he stuck out his hand for me to shake. I said, “Devo andare a scuola, mi dispiace” and throwing his hands up in disgust, he exclaimed, “Sei cattiva!”… Che stronzo!).

Wednesday was Grace’s birthday. I stayed over Tuesday night because I didn’t want to walk back to my apartment so late. I gave her a painting of her favorite spot in Bologna, a pack of Italian playing cards, and a small alarm clock. We had an apertivo before going to see a movie with our class. The aperitivo is a wonderful concept. In the early evening, you can buy a drink and get a complimentary buffet of little dishes. It is a pretty cheap dinner/snack. The film we saw was called L’intervallo. It was in the Neapolitan dialect, and it had Italian subtitles. The story deals with the Camorra (the Neapolitan mafia) and two teens who have to deal with living under its tyranny. It was a very moving film, but very typical of foreign cinema: nothing happened in the movie. So if you are more inclined towards happy endings, or an ending in general, I don’t recommend you see it. For everyone else who is a little more adventurous, see it.

Thursday night, I went to Ilaria and Beatrice to the Festa dell’Unità. It was a lot like a county fair, except it was organized by the Democratic Party. There were several “restaurants” offering regional Italian food, as well as other ethnic foods. We didn’t stay very long, but we did walk home with two plants. We paid 1.30 euro to pick a number. Our number (20) gave us 20 points to choose a plant. So Ilaria and I chose two 10 point plants. They are now sitting on my window sill. Plants apparently make us happier, though I really don’t need any help with that now. The highlight, though, was riding in Ilaria’s FIAT 500 for the second time.

Friday, we had a wonderful meal for 10 euro each. The menu completo featured a primo, second, and dolce or caffè. I had risotto with shrimp and zucchini, a fritto misto plate of seafood, and a coffee sorbetto to top it off. The five of us – me, Grace, Natalia, Kelly, and Kelly’s friend Hilary – were having a last meal before Hilary left. She also goes to UCLA, but she studied in Berlin this summer. On her way home, she stopped in Bologna for two weeks. Peggy (our wonderful, indescribable academic coordinator) graciously let Hilary accompany the group on our many fieldtrips to museums and even to Ravenna. She was a great addition, and it is too bad that she couldn’t stay.

Yesterday was Saturday once again. It marked my two week anniversary of living on Via Tiberio Fiorilli…and I’m happy to say that I love it so much. It seems like the best possible spot for me in all of Bologna. As I’ve said before, Ilaria and Raffy are so kind and fun to be around. Ilaria and I talk all the time (which is of course improving my Italian!).

Grace, Kelly (I just realized…Grace + Kelly = Grace Kelly. Nice.), and I went to the flea market yesterday afternoon. There is pretty much a stand for everything. Prices range from normally expensive to ridiculously cheap. Of course, so does the quality. I found my prized possessions there, however: green leather ankle boots. (Don’t worry, Vidduch, they were well-priced). Pimpa the rabbit seemed to like them as much as I do, because when I was still wearing them, he came up and took a bite out of the toe! It was so absurd that I wasn’t mad (you really can’t tell that much, and I inevitably would have scuffed them anyway). It would be one thing if I had carelessly left them in my room with the door open, but they were still on my feet! What a ridiculous creature.

I made dinner for the girls, too. I wanted to buy fish at the fish counter, but I was intimidated by how whole they were. I have never learned how to clean a fish, sadly. So, I was reduced to buying cod filets in the frozen section. Please don’t judge me for it. (It’s possible that no one is judging me for it except myself. I am trying not to think about the environmental consequences of my purchase.) Anyway, I also made a tomato sauce with onions and potatoes. It worked out nicely, so I’m pleased.

And that was basically my week. Now that I’m enjoying every moment here, each one disappears more quickly than I would like. 

Ravenna

Last Friday, we took a day trip to Ravenna with the group. I didn’t realize until a few days before that I had studied the famous mosaics of Ravenna in my medieval art history class at UCLA. There are two important buildings in the city. One is the mausoleum of Galla Placidia, and the other is the basilica of San Vitale. Both contain beautifully preserved Byzantine mosaics. Inside the mausoleum, there are four notable ones. On the ceiling of the entranceway there is a representation of heaven in blue tiles. The dome contains a cross in the center to signify Christ. Four images in the four corners symbolize the Evangelists: Matthew the angel, Mark the lion, Luke the ox, and John the eagle. On the far wall, there is a mosaic of St. Lawrence the martyr, while the opposing side has a picture of Jesus the Good Shepherd. Commissioned by Galla Placidia, the daughter of a Roman Emperor, it is probably one of the earliest buildings to have a female patron. The basilica of San Vitale contains several mosaics of the emperor Justinian and his wife Theodora. They are meant to represent the unification of church and state. Justinian, of course, stands in front of everyone, even the bishop. As with many works of art, it is impossible to understand the impact these mosaics have in person. There is definitely a presence inside the basilica, whether it is divine or historical.

After the church, we had long, relaxing lunch. The first plate was a simple pasta and tomato sauce. Next, they served us the separate parts of a piadina: the bread, the salumi, and the squacquerone cheese. We finished the meal with an espresso (naturally). Then, with our stomachs filled and our minds a bit…looser, we made our way to the tomb of THE Italian writer. Though Dante was born in Florence, he died and remains in Ravenna. We read the first canto of the Inferno in his honor.

Afterward, we had about an hour before the train left. Well, five of us California girls decided that we needed to see the water. On the map, it didn’t seem so far. However, after walking for about 20 minutes, we asked for directions. The girl told us that the beach was 8 km away! (8 km = 5 miles). Heartbroken, we returned to the park in front of the train station, where we met up with the other members of the group. 

Despite the last hour, the trip to Ravenna was an exciting experience for me as an art history student. I had no particular interest in the mosaics when I studied them at school, but seeing them in person gave me a real sense of awe.

Luigi

DISCLAIMER: This blog post contains a story that might be uncomfortable for some of my readers, especially if you tend to worry about me.

The Luigi saga began the first day that Grace and I arrived in Bologna, on August 20, and it continued until the 29^th, when Eli came back to his apartment. It was too weird to write about while it was happening. However, now that I am happily out of the area, I can look back on the entire experience and laugh.

When I corresponded with Eli prior to arriving, he told me that he unfortunately would be out of town during our stay. He entrusted his friend Luigi to give us the keys, show us how to work everything, and answer any questions. Grace and I took a taxi from the airport, and when we arrived at Eli’s, there was Luigi. He did give us the keys, but he didn’t explain all of the nuances of Eli’s apartment very well. Then, Luigi told us that he needed to clean up a few things around the house. He disappeared into Eli’s room. Grace and I went out for dinner and went to bed at 9 pm. We were woken up after midnight by the sound of someone entering the bathroom. Well, of course it was Luigi. It was a bit strange that he was still in the apartment. Grace and I were a bit disconcerted, but we distracted ourselves by watching a movie.

The next day, I emptied out my lunch bag that my mom had packed for my plane trip. In it were some chocolate chip cookies that my dad had made. I put the cookies on a plate. Some were broken in half because of travelling, so it was difficult to know how exactly how many pieces were on the plate. Grace and I went out, and when we came back around 3pm, Luigi popped his head out of Eli’s room to answer some questions we had (how does the shower work, etc). It was again strange that he was there, but since he apparently had some things to do, it seemed semi-reasonable. We went to the grocery store, and Grace bought some cookies. When we returned, my cookie platter seemed to be missing some pieces. Maybe I had fewer cookies than I remembered.

The following night, Grace opened up her own cookies. She folded the bag a certain way to prevent them from becoming stale. When we went to bed, we kept the door to the kitchen cracked open. Soon after turning the light off, I had to get up to go into the bathroom. Well, when I was in there, Grace saw that the light in kitchen was on. She heard someone (guess who?) munching on her cookies! When I unlocked the bathroom door, the light to the kitchen went off. Grace told me about what had happened, and I mentioned that our baguette seemed like less than what we had eaten with dinner. She had noticed it too. We silently giggled, partly out of extreme discomfort and partly because of the absurdity of our situation. Luigi hadn’t bothered us at all, but we kept our door locked. It wasn’t a problem for us to share the apartment with him, but it seemed like he was not supposed to be there (Especially since he was sneaking around after midnight to eat our cookies!).

I wrote an email to Eli, but he was travelling in Turkey with limited internet access. His parents were supposed to return around this time. They came one night to say hello (it may have been the same night as the cookie incident). Since we hadn’t heard from Eli, Grace and I went upstairs one afternoon to talk to his parents. Keep in mind that it was about 104 degrees, which is a very uncomfortable temperature for most people. You probably cannot guess what happened next. We knocked on the door, and Eli’s father answered. He stood there in his underwear, and we could hear a lovely classical tune playing in the background. We told him we had a problem, so he invited us inside. I explained the entire situation to Eli’s father while he was almost naked. It was such a bizarre experience that only adds more humor to the story.

Eli’s father told us to tell Luigi that he wanted to speak with him. Well, this wasn’t too comforting, because we had no idea when we would see him again. I eventually heard from Eli, who apologized profusely and said that he was very embarrassed. Luigi was only supposed to give us the keys.

When Eli came home, Grace and I realized just how different our first week in Bologna would have been. He was a wonderful host, and he deserves his own blog entry. I’ll probably write one later this week. In the end, no one was hurt or disturbed. At the time, it was unnerving, and it made our introduction to Bologna even more stressful (Don’t forget, we were searching for apartments at this point, too). With the passage of time, however, it has become a great story. 

Senzatetto

I have been unable to write down everything I’ve wanted to say for the past few weeks since I have been stressed beyond belief. All of that stress has now turned into an overwhelming sense of calm because I am no longer a senzatetto (homeless)!

My apartment is just outside the walls of the city center (centro), which means it is fuori porta (outside the porte, the large archways that surround the city, leftover from the Middle Ages). I have three flatmates. Ilaria and Raffaela are sisters from Foggia, which is a town in Puglia. My grandfather was born in Accadia, a tiny village near Foggia. So we are all pugliesi! The third inhabitant is a rabbit named Pimpa. He was frightened at first, but last night he ventured into my room to say hello. I think we will get along just fine.

I left Eli’s apartment yesterday, and he said we would see each other again. He is a very sweet guy, so I think he is right. When I arrived at my new home, Ilaria helped me lug my two suitcases up the two flights of stairs. Afterward, she and I went to IKEA. I bought two sets of sheets, one knitted blanket, one fleece/polyester blanket, and a rug to brighten up the room (some flowers, maybe daisies?). I have a lot of space in the closets, so right now everything is very neat and tidy. My mother will probably be the most skeptical as to how long this will last.

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I started this blog post on Sunday, and it is now Wednesday. I haven’t had internet in the apartment, but I went to the WIND store (another internet/cell company) to buy a chiavetta. It’s basically a modem that you plug into the USB drive. Unfortunately, I only get 10GB a month (which I believe is actually quite a lot, but I’m still wary). This means that my blog will have a separate page for photos from now on. Whenever I have WIFI, I will post my photos.

Saturday night, I went over to where Grace was staying. She is living with a friend from our program, but she moves into her new apartment tomorrow! I am thrilled for her, especially since I know exactly how it feels to be without a secure home. We finished watching a British movie called The Decoy Bride with David Tennant. Hilarious, a bit overdone, but definitely a good movie for a not so good mood.

Sunday, Ilaria and I went to the grocery store PAM, where I bought basic Italian staples: pasta and coffee. Monday, we were supposed to go to Santo Stefano, where the remains of Bologna’s patron saint San Petronio are. Our visit was cancelled, however, due to poor weather. Well, when we went to Santo Stefano yesterday (Tuesday), there was a downpour! Fortunately, the church had porticos, just like every other building in Bologna. Monday night I went back to Cecily’s (our friend from the program) to have dinner with her and Grace. I was having so much fun that I didn’t want to leave, but the best part about my apartment is my flatmates. When I came back home around 9:45-10ish, Ilaria and I talked for another hour and a half, at least. It’s so wonderful that I can go from being happy with my UC friends to being happy with my Italian flatmates. It’s a welcome change from UCLA.

Last night the three of us – Ilaria, Raffaela, and I – had dinner together. They are very patient with my Italian. Ilaria is very eager to relearn English, but she told me that I can’t laugh at her accent. I’m sure my Italian accent is not very pretty either.

Anyway, my life went from being miserable to wonderful in the course of a day. I am so at ease in my new apartment, and I cannot wait for my friends and family at home to visit me. I am starting to become more familiar with the city. Bologna has been inhabited from the time of the Etruscans to the present, without pause. I am happy to become a part of that vast history of population. 

Un Riassunto

This week has been incredibly stressful, since I have devoted most of my time to finding housing. My post will therefore be brief, with lots of pictures.

Sunday 8/26: As a group, we went to the Museo della Storia di Bologna (The history museum). It's a fairly young museum, as it's only been open for seven months! Bologna, in contrast, has been around much longer than that. In the fifth century BCE, it was inhabited by the Etruscans. If I remember anything from my Classics classes at UCLA, the Etruscans ran a very liberal society. For example, public displays of affection were common (something the Greeks and Romans found abhorrent), and men and women had much more equality than in other ancient western civilizations. When the Etruscans were here, the city was called "Felsina". Once the Romans arrived, it became "Bononia". Of course, Bologna has a rich Medieval history as well, but I did promise a brief blog post.

Monday 8/27: First day of class. My teacher, Goffreddo, is from Sicily. He's a sweetheart. Even though we are in class for 3 hours every day, it doesn't seem like it. Everyone in the group laughs a lot and seems to enjoy being at the Study Center.

Tuesday 8/28: We went to the post office to apply for the permesso di soggiorno, which is a residency permit required of all non-Italians.

Wednesday 8/29: A trip to the Museo Archeologico. We saw Etruscan, Roman, and Greek pottery and jewelry. I think everything was found in various tombs in Bologna. All of the objects that are buried with a person are called corredo funerario. If you are into ancient western civilizations, I definitely recommend this place. Afterward, we went to San Petronio, the half-built cathedral on the Piazza Maggiore. If it had been completed, it would be larger than Saint Peter's! Of course, the Pope had to put a stop to this in the middle ages, so he built a palazzo next to the church, halting the construction of the nave. Inside, there is fresco depicting Dante's version of l'inferno, il purgatorio, and il paradiso. In the early 2000s, there was an attempted terrorist attack by several Muslim men. The artist (Giovanni da Modena) had painted Mohammed in Hell, devoured by demons. Dante described this in the Inferno, because at the time, you were either Christian or a heathen. The fresco dates from the 15th century, but because it is forbidden to depict deities in Islam, there was a problem.

Thursday 8/30: Well actually, this day should get its own post. The guy who lives in our temporary apartment, Eli, came back Wednesday night, and Thursday night we had a great time cooking with him.

And today? Well I am not studying for my test that I have to take in 2 hours. It's raining, but since there are covered archways everywhere in the city, I think I will be able to stay dry.

A posto!

Prosciutto pizza! The pizzeria is right downstairs from the Study Center, and it's 4,70 euro for 8 slices!

The famous piadina (prosciutto, arugula, and squacquerone cheese)

Bologna has canals too! But they're mostly under the city.

Gnocchi

Peach popsicle!

MEAT

La Dotta

This is one of Bologna's three nicknames. It means "The Learned One." After today’s orientation into the UCEAP program, I hope that by the end of my year abroad, I too will become a “learned one.”

Let me start with yesterday’s activities. We finally made two appointments to see apartments. It is recommended that you don’t pick the first place you visit. I am thankful for that “rule” because neither place was very exciting. The first one, close to the university, had three tiny double rooms (doppia). The landlords were also still in the process of renovating it, even though they claimed it would be finished by September 1. Not likely. We were expecting an older signora, but the woman who opened the door was, well, a hot young mom. Because of the heat, she was wearing a cut-off shirt and booty (and I mean BOOTY) shorts. Her man friend (husband? boyfriend? baby daddy?) wore no shirt – which was a bit of a gift. And their young son was playing in one of the bedrooms while his parents painted the kitchen a subdued lilac color. Basically, the apartment was nothing special, and if I was desperate and needed a place for a short time, it would do. Later in the afternoon we went to see another place close to where we are staying now. None of the girls who live there were home, so the landlord came to show us inside. He was a sweet, rather pushy man. I tried to explain that I am here for the scholastic year and may leave before an entire calendar year. This was an issue for him. I reassured him that if I were to sign a contract, I would happily pay for the months during which I was not there. However, he wouldn’t accept this. He liked me a lot, because he is from Foggia, which is a city in Puglia close to Accadia, where my grandfather was born. He also repeated several times that he had many other potential tenants (as if that would somehow make me change my mind to sign a contract…). Anyway, like the other place, this apartment was nothing great. (Actually, as I was writing this post, the landlord called me because I hadn't called him back! I told him I had already found a place and was unable to call because I had been in class all day. Lying in a foreign language is a lot easier than in English!)

At 8pm, our program officially started. We went to a restaurant – Cantina Bentivoglio – on Via Mascarelli. There are 27 students in the program. Most of them go to UCSB, but six of us are from UCLA. Our academic advisor, Peggy, gave a brief welcome speech, and then we ate. It was a very relaxing evening, and although we were at the end of the table, we met a few other girls in the program. Everyone was friendly and excited to be there, which makes sense, because it takes a special kind of person to study abroad in an immersion program.

This morning Grace and I woke up at 8 am. Our orientation started at 10, but we wanted to have enough time to find the building. It was also our first opportunity for a cappuccino. We returned to the café with the crescioni. Our friend (whose name we later learned is Fabio) wasn’t there, unfortunately. He must work in the afternoons. Anyway, in true Italian style, the cappuccini were accompanied by a glass of sparkling water. Usually I am not a fan of mineral water, but I didn’t want to be rude or too American, so I mustered up the courage and took a sip. Honestly, it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. Plus, the cappuccino was perfect. (Actually, my mom will make a face at this, but the barista used soy milk!). I was expecting something strong, but it was really enjoyable. Everyone told me that I would become addicted to coffee during this year, and I didn’t believe it…but it definitely seems possible after today!

The orientation was everything I had hoped it would be. The coordinators LOVE what they do; their excitement and willingness to help with anything brought me an inexplicable sense of relief. Afterward, we went with two girls from UCLA to a Mexican/Kebab restaurant. The woman who co-owns it is originally from Mexico, and her business partner is Middle Eastern. Even though I’m sure most of the meat in Italy is much better quality than American meat, I was happy to hear it was Halal as well. One of the girls, Natalia, met this woman at a hostel, and so she came to open up the place just for us. The taco was just ok, but we were starving, so it did the trick.

Later in the afternoon, everyone in the program met by the Fontana Nettuno for a trip to a small museum in the Palazzo Comunale. We were split up into two groups, which we will be in for the remainder of ILP (That stands for “Intensive Language Program,” which helps us prepare for our lives in Bologna before regular classes start in September). My group leader, Goffredo, is from Sicily. The Palazzo Comunale used to be a residency for the Pope during the Middle Ages. One of the most interesting facts that I learned today was about the architecture of Bologna. Since the city was divided politically into two groups – i Guelfi and i Ghibellini – the buildings were distinguished as well. The Guelphs supported the Pope, while the Ghibellines were in favor of the Holy Roman Emperor. The papal buildings have systematic roofs shaped like П_П_П_П_П. The imperial roofs are more crown-shaped. I will definitely be on the lookout for differences in architecture after this.

After the museum, we went as a group for gelato. Three of us ordered granite, even though it was a bit more expensive (Our teachers very generously paid the extra three euros). Granita siciliana is shaved ice with flavored syrup. Mine was grapefruit and strawberry. Well, I can easily say it was the best thing I’ve tasted so far! It was so refreshing after a long, hot day.

Now I’m sitting in the apartment by myself. Grace has gone to a family friend’s place for dinner tonight, so I will be cooking pasta again. Since our program is an academic one, we have daily homework. One of our assignments is keeping a journal. My best friend Katie gave me a beautiful, leatherbound diary from Italy. It seems fitting to fill it with the eloquence of the Italian language.

Pasta that I made for me and Grace a few nights ago (Tomato, Zucchini, and Pancetta)

Tagliatelle Bolognese (from the Orienation dinner)

Salumi platter

Chocolate Mousse!

The "gateway" cappuccino!

The Mexican/Middle Easter place (Me, Kelly, Natalia, Grace)

Tacos (which were just ok)

View of Bologna from the museum

Granita con pompelmo e fragola!

TIM

Our mission for Wednesday was to buy Italian SIM cards. I had tried to buy one on Tuesday, but the guy in the store said I needed my passport. So Wednesday we returned to TIM, which is one of the main three carriers in Italy (the others are WIND and Vodafone). I was looking for just a SIM card that would make phone calls, but one of their offers was TIM YOUNG. Basically, I pay 9 euro a month for 1GB of internet and 1000 texts. Outgoing calls are 12 cents a minute, but to receive anything is free. Compared to American companies, it's a steal!

Well, the three guys in the phone store are our new best friends. I only know one by name: Jacopo. He helped me set up my phone. They are quintessentially Italian. Handsome, friendly, funny... At one point I mentioned that I am Italian-American, and one of the guys asked which region of Italy. When I responded "Puglia," his eyes lit up, and he said, "Ma, io sono di Puglia!". As it turns out, Jacopo was from Puglia as well! They of course had to argue over which area was better, Lecce or Bari.

After activating our phones, Grace and I headed to get gelato. We stopped at the same shop, and I had melon and peach. Then we walked down Via Zamboni, where the majority of the University buildings are. We were looking for the University Store, but it was closed.

At the apartment, I went onto the TIM website to register my phone. I made a quick call to what I thought was an information number. When I checked my balance, only 2.80 euro remained from my 5 euro balance! Since my phone call was about 8 seconds, I had a hard time believing it cost 12 cents. This whole situation stressed me out, because I couldn't understand any of the information on the website. Grace decided that we needed to get out of the apartment, so we walked back to Piazza Maggiore.

We had dinner at a place right off the piazza. The food was just ok. I'm still looking for exquisite food here, but I have yet to find it. Since we didn't want to return to the apartment to face the daunting task of looking for housing, Grace and I sat in the piazza and attempted to do some puzzles from a British newspaper. The puzzles were way too difficult (probably because they contained too many regional references), so we gave up and headed back.

At the apartment, we started to look online at housing options. It's a very stressful thing to do. We are already on the second day of searching and so far we have zero solid offers.

Today we went back to the TIM store to figure out why I had been charged so much money. Apparently, the number I called was a very expensive information guide! They answered a few more questions and when we left, I said "Speriamo di non ritornare domani!" Our friends countered that, telling us that we definitely should come back tomorrow! We'll see.

After the whole phone debaucle, we went to a bookstore that was supposed to be air conditioned. Nope. The 104 degree heat is really unpleasant, especially when there's no break from it. So we walked to a cafe in the Jewish section (It wasn't a Jewish cafe though -- don't worry, Mom, no matzo for me!). Our program coordinator sent us an email of places to cool off, and this cafe was on the list. No air conditioning there, either. It seems the only places that have it are clothing stores.

Our apartment search continues. Tonight we are going to go see a free orchestral concert near the university.

The middle of a looooooong wall of apartment listings

My mediocre tortellini and "pancetta"

Piazza Maggiore

Bologna, at last!

These are the words that welcomed me into the terminal at Gugliemo Marconi airport. Reading that phrase, "Bologna, at last!", I felt both relief and anxiety. Finally, after almost a year of planning, I have arrived in Italy. 

After a difficult goodbye in Buffalo, I took a small jet plane to Chicago. On the flight from O’Hare to Heathrow, I watched two movies and several episodes of Modern Family. The first movie, Salmon Fishing on the Yemen, was not as captivating as I had hoped, even though it stars Ewan McGregor. The second movie, Le Gamin au Vélo (The Kid with a Bike), was about a young foster boy who is adopted by a hairdresser. Once we landed in London, it took an hour to go through another round of security. But I was happy to be at Heathrow, because my friend Grace, from UCLA, was there to join me on the flight to Bologna!

The entire journey was pretty much hassle-free. After we settled into our apartment (where we are staying until the end of the month), we decided to take a walk through the city center. We stopped into several stores along the way to enjoy their air conditioning. We gratefully ate some pizza in a place called PizzAltero. It wasn’t the best, but it was definitely welcome after such a long day of travelling.

We finally went to bed around 9, and we both woke up in the middle of the night, thinking it was 4 in the morning. Nope, 12:45 am. Grace suggested watching a movie, so we found another one with Ewan McGregor, Brassed Off. We fell asleep again before finishing, so I’m not sure how it will turn out.

Today, we slept until 2:30, which is probably the latest I’ve ever slept in. Our next meal was something called a crescione, which was a piece of flat bread with melted cheese and tomato paste inside. It was warm and delicious. Since it was so hot outside, (99 degrees!), I had lemon and peach gelato to cool down. It only worked for about a minute.

Grace and I wandered over to the Sala Borsa on the Piazza Maggiore. It is now a three story library, but it has a rich history. It lies on top of ancient Roman ruins, which you can visit for a small donation. The woman at the entrance to the archaeological site was talking with her friend when we asked if we could go in. She was so happy that Italians were visiting! I had to say, “Davvero, non siamo italiane!” She was shocked. She told us that she likes Americans, because we are friendly and always smile. However, she wasn’t really a fan of Germans.

After the Sala Borsa, we looked for a market, but by that time, it was 6pm. We didn’t find the one we were looking for, probably because it had closed. We made our way back to the apartment, stopping in a small grocery store. For dinner, I made spaghetti with mozzarella and zucchini. Not bad for one of my first cooked meals!

Tomorrow we begin the apartment hunt…

Bolognesi buildings

The "Crescione"

Ancient Ruins

Keeping cool under the city!

Spaghetti with Mozzarella and Zucchini