Midway Along the Journey: 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.