I meant to write about my wonderful trip to Palermo and Mondello with my lovely companion, Lauren, weeks ago but, alas, I got all wrapped in saying good-bye to Italia, etc and am two trips behind. So here we go.
The last weekend in November, Lauren and I flew so far south we ended up in a land form reminiscent of a soccer ball, namely Sicily. We arrived in the capital, Palermo, in the evening and it was quite an adventure finding our hostel. There were two streets with the same name and the one that the hostel was on was not the first street we found with this name. And lets just say that Palermo is not the least sketchy place you could find yourself on a dark Friday evening. FINALLY we found it, after many strange looks from locals and a few markets later. We arrived and climbed the stairs to our room which was seemingly unoccupied. We then left and scouted out dinner at a seemingly traditional Sicilian restaurant where Lauren made sure to order a Sicilian pasta specialty, something with eggplant. This restaurant was a typical experience of not knowing whether or not you had to go up to the cashier to pay or whether they would take your check at your table, after spending an acceptable Italian amount of time lounging at your dinner table. Afterwards we scouted out some typical Sicilian cannolis, which have a ricotta based filling and our scrumptious and native to this island at a fancy schmancy dessert/aperitivo place. When we arrived back to our room at our hostel we met our roommate.
"BUONANOTTE" she said in the scariest, raspiest, worst smoker voice combined with darth vader breathing ever. She continued to mumble stuff at us as Lauren and I tried not to burst out laughing until we figured out she wanted us to close the door because she was trying to sleep at 9 pm. We left very quickly because we were both terrified and trying not to laugh hysterically. Horrible. We then went out for a bit but around 3 am, when we were back and trying to sleep, this crazy woman got up, turned on the lights (there was another person in there in addition to Lauren and I, therefore turning the lights on for 3 other people) and started packing up her stuff to go. She took off her pants and did this all in white underwear, and often right in front of Lauren's bed...aka her face. This took a while. She dragged all her stuff to right outside the room, rummaged around, came back in, talked to herself in her scary voice, breathed like Darth Vader, went back into the hallway, would be gone for like 15 minutes, come back in, and do the whole thing over. Everytime someone turned off the lights when she was gone or closed the window shutter she would come in, turn the light on, and open up the window shutter. It was horrible. I thought she would never leave.
Finally she did and it was morning and around noon Lauren and I emerged from our beds and headed out and into Palermo. It was wonderfully pleasant outside, a welcome change from the Milanese chills, and we got nutella crepes for breakfast/lunch. What could be better? Then we headed to the markets. Wow, the markets. I think I could do a study on the varying degrees of merchandise and ethnic influences in the different regions of Italy and how this effects the markets. In Sicily there is a strong Indian influence that I hadn't seen before except maybe a smidgen in Bologna. It was really great and probably the best for present shopping for all you lovely girls back home. We spent a good portion of the day doing that. We also walked to the coast and stared longingly and thoughtfully at the water for a while, ate some mini Sicilian pizza (which is different from pizza in Naples, Milan, and everywhere else), had some more cannolis, walked by the super "shameful" aka nude and sexy Fontana della Vergogna, and popped into and walked the duomo (which is a medley of styles since Sicily is a land conquered by two many dictators/rulers/historical names to count).
On Sunday Lauren and I decided to take a day trip to Mondello which is a town a little bit outside Palermo on the coast. We checked out of our hostel and hopped on a bus to the town. It was very small, made up of mostly seafood restraunts, and at first quite windy and a bit chilly. We checked out the bright blue rowboats and walked past a weird mini child amusement park until the sun came out. Then we did the natural thing and plopped ourselves down on the sand, stretched out, and sometimes touched the cold, cold water. This was so great. Last weekend in November, gearing up for finals, and where were we? Lying on a beach in Sicily. After a while we figured it would be good not too miss our plane back to northern Italy and grabbed some late lunch, mid afternoon meal before getting on the bus back to Palermo so we could get to the airport. Now this is the story of how we almost got arrested. Usually, in Milan and other places in Italy, validating your bus ticket or tram ticket is an honor system kind of deal. You don't enter it into a machine in order to board like you do in Chicago. So basically its really easy to board without paying. Since Lauren and I didn't know where to buy tickets or anything, and we just needed two bus rides, we didn't buy tickets. Silly, cheap, American college students we are. Of course on our ride back from Mondello, conductors come on to check tickets. We tried to play stupid American. They just wanted to write down our passport numbers. We told them we didn't speak Italian. They insisted on a 53 euro fine for each of us. One of the street vendors who spoke English acted as a translator for us. He was actually very nice and tried to see if the conductors would let us free if we just bought the extra tickets he had from him. But the conductors insisted that this was not an okay option either, we needed to buy them before boarding. These conductors were so mean. They talked so quickly that neither Lauren nor I could make out the seperate words from the stream of Italian jumble exiting their lips. I would say "Por favore-" meaning to end with "parla lentemente" (speak slowly) but they would interrupt me with "no no blah blah no no blah blah" and hand gestures as soon as I opened my mouth. Horrible. They finally ended up escorting us off the bus, kept mentioning the "Polizia" and argued with us for a bit longer. Lauren and I were petrified. We were not going to pay 53 euro each, we were not letting them get our passport information. Luckily we were close enough to downtown Palermo that when we got off the bus, we knew where we were and how to get to the airport shuttle. We walked to the shuttle still nervous and were very happy to get on that plane out and over to Milano.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Auschwitz.
I feel weird writing about this. But I feel weird not writing about it, either. An experience I had not anticipated gaining.
We took the train to Oswiecim, a town about an hour and a half from Krakow. Its a town, a real town. With bakeries and street signs and homes, people walking the street with their dogs, their children, their laundry. It is silent. It is cold and it is silent and it feels heavy so just walking of the train you know something grave and something horrific and something indescribable happened there. It feels like history left it behind, like a place struggling to breathe, grasping for a sign that life really does exist here, that it is not just a "tourist" destination. It was a tense and frigid walk to the camp. I didn't know what to expect or what to think so I didn't think. I just moved my feet as fast as I could to stay warm. Dressed in boots and jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, a heavy and thick sweater, and a coat. A scarf, a hat. Dressed for winter. (Victims didn't have half the clothing I had.) Freezing cold. When we arrived, there were tour groups everywhere. Long buses blocked the view. I grabbed a coffee from the more than ironic placement of the cafeteria and we, without payment, walked through the turnstiles.
We walked onto the loose white stones, moving under our feet, and with that first footstep out and in front of the camp, it was like a foot had kicked me in the stomach. As hard as you could imagine. I stared at the tracks, at "Arbeit Macht Frei," at the brick buildings, back at the sign. Robyn took my hand and we, both teary-eyed, proceeded.
So many tour groups. So many headphones. So many people just walking through like sheep. I didn't understand that. Robyn and I could barely hold it together. How did these people just walk from brick barrack to brick barrack, from exhibit to exhibit so easily? The first exhibit that really affected me was the infamous one that is a collection of victims' belongings. The barrack that now has graying hair, pots and pans, eyeglasses, prosthetic legs and more behind glass for us to look at, to see, to remember the livelihood of the Jewish people of Europe before they were forced into this death camp. Some of the hair was still braided (I had braided my own hair the night before). Pots and pans were piled, messy and chaotic (I have only just recently learned how to cook). The room of shoes, with a narrow walkway because most of it is taken up on the left, the right, and in front of you, with piles and piles and piles and piles of shoes. Red shoes, brown shoes, sandals, boots missing soles, multi-colored shoes, childrens' shoes (I had just seen hundreds of shoes lined up next to each other the previous day in stores, the contrast nearly made me puke). Suitcases piled on suitcases piled on suitcases. Labeled with family names as if these people would maintain possession of not only the suitcase, but its contents. I saw my own name, spelled a few different ways, four or five times. I cannot even begin to describe what that feels like. It makes you cough on the phlegm in the back of your throat, it makes you point and shrug as if its no big deal, its makes you want to scream for help. It makes you remember how close this genocide really is to my own life. My own name. Chana. Hanna. Hana. Chanah. My name is Hannah.
When I saw the tallit hung up behind glass it became clear that this was an attack, not just on people, but on a faith, a history, a heritage. My faith, my history, my heritage. And I started crying again. I sat down on the bench outside this room in the hallway, between lines of people walking at an even pace from room to room, and sobbed.
We saw the jail, the "courtroom," the place victims were forced to sleep. We saw exhibits on liberation and "martyrdom" of the Jews. We went to the death wall. I imagined it pooling and stained with blood. My ears rang with gunshots. Now its a memorial of flowers, candles, even some rosaries. And stones, so many stones. Robyn and I put some in the cracks ourselves.
But I couldn't believe the amount of people laughing there, talking loudly, even in the specific areas that demand silence like the "death wall." How do you find anything to laugh about in a place like this? It made it even harder to connect the events of the camp with the land itself today. Auschwitz was much smaller than I imagined and my brain just couldn't put all the stories I had both heard and read in this place.
We went to the crematorium. The "showers" are blocked off and mostly destroyed. But we saw the ovens. At this point I was so numb, so unable to process this history, that the Nazis could do this to people, this genocide, that my eyes could barely process the information in front of them (let alone my brain capable of understanding it). I saw the smokestack. And I know that I am missing a huge part of Auschwitz by not being able to smell the stench of burning human bodies that is integral to every survivor's story.
(We didn't go to Birkenau, which I now really regret, because we wanted to try and see the Leonardo da Vinci portrait in Krakow before the museum closed. We didn't get to see the portrait. Or Birkenau.)
And when we left Robyn turned to me and said "Look, two Jews freely leaving Auschwitz."
We took the train to Oswiecim, a town about an hour and a half from Krakow. Its a town, a real town. With bakeries and street signs and homes, people walking the street with their dogs, their children, their laundry. It is silent. It is cold and it is silent and it feels heavy so just walking of the train you know something grave and something horrific and something indescribable happened there. It feels like history left it behind, like a place struggling to breathe, grasping for a sign that life really does exist here, that it is not just a "tourist" destination. It was a tense and frigid walk to the camp. I didn't know what to expect or what to think so I didn't think. I just moved my feet as fast as I could to stay warm. Dressed in boots and jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, a heavy and thick sweater, and a coat. A scarf, a hat. Dressed for winter. (Victims didn't have half the clothing I had.) Freezing cold. When we arrived, there were tour groups everywhere. Long buses blocked the view. I grabbed a coffee from the more than ironic placement of the cafeteria and we, without payment, walked through the turnstiles.
We walked onto the loose white stones, moving under our feet, and with that first footstep out and in front of the camp, it was like a foot had kicked me in the stomach. As hard as you could imagine. I stared at the tracks, at "Arbeit Macht Frei," at the brick buildings, back at the sign. Robyn took my hand and we, both teary-eyed, proceeded.
So many tour groups. So many headphones. So many people just walking through like sheep. I didn't understand that. Robyn and I could barely hold it together. How did these people just walk from brick barrack to brick barrack, from exhibit to exhibit so easily? The first exhibit that really affected me was the infamous one that is a collection of victims' belongings. The barrack that now has graying hair, pots and pans, eyeglasses, prosthetic legs and more behind glass for us to look at, to see, to remember the livelihood of the Jewish people of Europe before they were forced into this death camp. Some of the hair was still braided (I had braided my own hair the night before). Pots and pans were piled, messy and chaotic (I have only just recently learned how to cook). The room of shoes, with a narrow walkway because most of it is taken up on the left, the right, and in front of you, with piles and piles and piles and piles of shoes. Red shoes, brown shoes, sandals, boots missing soles, multi-colored shoes, childrens' shoes (I had just seen hundreds of shoes lined up next to each other the previous day in stores, the contrast nearly made me puke). Suitcases piled on suitcases piled on suitcases. Labeled with family names as if these people would maintain possession of not only the suitcase, but its contents. I saw my own name, spelled a few different ways, four or five times. I cannot even begin to describe what that feels like. It makes you cough on the phlegm in the back of your throat, it makes you point and shrug as if its no big deal, its makes you want to scream for help. It makes you remember how close this genocide really is to my own life. My own name. Chana. Hanna. Hana. Chanah. My name is Hannah.
When I saw the tallit hung up behind glass it became clear that this was an attack, not just on people, but on a faith, a history, a heritage. My faith, my history, my heritage. And I started crying again. I sat down on the bench outside this room in the hallway, between lines of people walking at an even pace from room to room, and sobbed.
We saw the jail, the "courtroom," the place victims were forced to sleep. We saw exhibits on liberation and "martyrdom" of the Jews. We went to the death wall. I imagined it pooling and stained with blood. My ears rang with gunshots. Now its a memorial of flowers, candles, even some rosaries. And stones, so many stones. Robyn and I put some in the cracks ourselves.
But I couldn't believe the amount of people laughing there, talking loudly, even in the specific areas that demand silence like the "death wall." How do you find anything to laugh about in a place like this? It made it even harder to connect the events of the camp with the land itself today. Auschwitz was much smaller than I imagined and my brain just couldn't put all the stories I had both heard and read in this place.
We went to the crematorium. The "showers" are blocked off and mostly destroyed. But we saw the ovens. At this point I was so numb, so unable to process this history, that the Nazis could do this to people, this genocide, that my eyes could barely process the information in front of them (let alone my brain capable of understanding it). I saw the smokestack. And I know that I am missing a huge part of Auschwitz by not being able to smell the stench of burning human bodies that is integral to every survivor's story.
(We didn't go to Birkenau, which I now really regret, because we wanted to try and see the Leonardo da Vinci portrait in Krakow before the museum closed. We didn't get to see the portrait. Or Birkenau.)
And when we left Robyn turned to me and said "Look, two Jews freely leaving Auschwitz."
Krakow.
Last Friday, Robyn (from UPS) and I flew my favorite airline ever (Ryanair) from rainy Milan to cold Krakow. Not knowing a word of Polish, let alone the name of the Polish currency, we magically made it from the airport to the hostel (called "Zodiac Hostel" in case you're interested in all the fun names of the places I stay) not too late in the afternoon. We then followed the green route on the map of Krakow that follows the "Jewish Heritage Tour." It started at the "new" Jewish cemetery (I think its called "new" because people are still being buried there today because it definitely had tombstones dating back hundreds of years). We walked around here for a really, really long time, winding along the gravel and stone path, through layers of dusty autumn leaves. The trees were bare, just branches sticking naked up into the sky. Bright, lush moss grew over too many tombstones. Home to snails and slugs (the hard freeze has yet to knock them out). It was probably the perfect beginning to a weekend focused on the loss of the European Jews but that didn't make it any less depressing. Tombstones for children, for families, Holocaust memorials for the 12 people in one family that had died. And, as usual, I saw my own Jewish name in Hebrew on more tombstones than I was comfortable with.
After the cemetary, we followed the green route on the map to many synagogues in the old Jewish neighborhood. But because it was Friday and Krakow gets dark VERY early , many of them were closing their tourist services for Shabbat. We walked to most of them but didn't go in many of them. Most of them were just converted into bookshops anyways. That night we walked through the covered market in the main plaza. We found Mexican food for dinner...random but us Americans are homesick for comforts like Mexican food. We had an early night Friday but randomly ran into another study-abroad UPS student at our hostel! Small world!
(Saturday we went to Auschwitz.)
Saturday, upon returning, we found a bookstore with an English section in this massive mall by the train station and we both purchased Madame Bovary for the class we have together. We went back to the hostel and met some of the other people staying there. Some Canadians, some Slovenians, and an Israeli! Chitchat, travel story exchange, some singing. You know, good ole hostel random encounters and conversation. I cuddled up in my Irish sweater from the previous weekend to combat the Polish cold and stayed toasty in the golden lit common room. Robyn and I got Kebabs and Falafel for the equivalent of 2 euro for dinner and then the hostel treated us to some lemon vodka for free!!! This hostel apparently hosts weekend events for its guests such as "vodka tasting" and then they took us out. Friendliest hostel staff I ever met.
Sunday morning Robyn and I got up early to try and see the Leonardo da Vinci portrait "Lady with Ermine" but the Krakow art museum that this portrait is in is currently closed for renovations and the portrait has been moved to Warsaw. Disappointing to say the least. So instead I got one of those pretzel bagel-esque bread products that are on every street corner (if not on all four corners of every intersection) and some coffee from the Starbucks in the mall. My obligatory I'm-out-of-Italy Starbucks run. Then we headed back to the train station, to the airport, and to rainy, rainy Milano.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Irish Coffee+Irish Sweater=Irish Warmth, or 42 hours in Dublin
This past weekend I flew up north to Dublin to visit my friend Kristin from UPS. It was a crazy full apartment for her because her cousin and another one of her friends were also staying with her. I arrived at her apartment mid-afternoon and she greeted me with homemade oatmeal raisin cookies and veggie curry with rice. So delicious. It was then that I made a goal to not consume any Italian products until I flew back to Milano on Sunday. We ate and chitchatted, just catching up, until Kristin's cousin arrived and we went out to meet her at the bus stop. It was a really wonderful group and total crapshoot. Throwing three people who had never met each other before and Kristin into a weekend...how were we to know if we were compatible or not? Luckily we got along great. Kristin's friend had been in Europe for 8 months, first working in Berlin for 3 and then traveling some, and had just finished up WWOOFing in Ireland (where she and Kristin had met). This was definitely the kind of trip that was about the people more than exploring a place. And this was wonderful and probably just what I needed at this point in my study abroad experience. I had purchased tickets to visit Kristin during one of my most homesick weeks and this trip definitely helped me deal with some of it. Granted I have been less homesick recently but I was surrounded by people who loved traveling, loved being abroad, loved the cities/countries they were living in and were all around just really excited to have the opportunity to learn outside the classroom, absorb another culture, and live in Europe. This really helped remind me how limited my time here is and how I must take advantage of it, be really flexible, be brave, explore, and life my time in Europe to the fullest. Friday night we made dinner and discussed all these, compared experiences, stopped at a pub, and avoided as much rain as we could. The conversations from this night reminded me of how much there is in Europe to take advantage of.
Saturday we got up around 10, Kristin made delicious egg scrambles and instant coffee for breakfast and then we left around 11:30 or so and walked around. It wasn't raining yet and we walked to the Temple Bar area and went to a great farmer's market that sold asian food, curries, mexican food, salsas, crepes, meats, fish, beautiful breads, and had a plethora of samples. It was fabulous. Then we walked through this area of Dublin, past some stands of books, and over towards Trinity College campus. I had been to Trinity before when I came to Ireland with my family when I was 13 and I remembered the building the Book of Kells was in. This was super exciting because I don't remember much of Dublin from seven years ago. Here is a picture from the campus:
After this we went to a sweater shop and I fell in love with one and caved...it was on sale!!! Here I am in my new Irish sweater:
After this, it started raining so I put on my new sweater under my coat and we walked through the major shopping street to this beautiful park full of golden, brown, red, and a few green leaves. It was so great. It felt like autumn, the air had the familiar Seattle-esque mist (that totally beats Milan's constant downpour) and we wandered around the pond and through the trees.
After this we headed back to that crazy shopping street and went into this massive ritzy department store where they had a gigantic purse, probably around 10 ft tall with matching proportions. The idea was to let people go inside it and sit for a 1 minute video of the world through the eyes of a purse. The gigantic purse even jostled the passenger/viewer around a little bit as if it was going over bumps in the road, on rickety bike, or spinning around on a swing. It was a hilarious and ridiculous marketing technique. Wonderful. We were hungry and ready to get out of the rain after this so we headed back to Kristin's apartment. On our way we stopped at a grocery store to get some food to bring to a Thanksgiving dinner Kristin's friend had been invited to. At Kristin's apartment, she made us a small lunch and we made some Irish coffee as a wonderful pick-me-up and prepared vegetable to take to this Thanksgiving dinner. I forget how Kristin's friend had met these people but an American who had fallen in love with an Irish man and now lived here was hosting it on the outskirts of Dublin near the ebay headquarters of Dublin (since they worked for ebay). The dinner was a wonderfully crazy medley of Irish, Scottish, British, Canadian, German, French, and American. I love the mishmosh of culture that can come together, differing accents and lifestyles, in any small country in this small continent of Europe. The had turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, and much much more. Also pumpkin pie and apple pie!!!!! I nearly burst open...and managed to not eat or drink any Italian products!!! I met some really great people from all over, had some hilarious conversation, a round of story telling, and just a really random fabulous time. We left around 11 to go back towards Kristin's apartment. We got back a little after midnight and met up with one Kristin's friends from her program, went to a pub for a very short while, and ended up back at her apartment around 1:30. We all hung out for a bit longer until everyone passed out except me. I needed to leave her apartment at 4 am to get on a shuttle to the airport to catch a 6:30 am flight so I just stayed up all night, made some non-Irish coffee, and left at 4 am. Kristin lives on a canal (I have missed living near water SO MUCH) and I walked along it, next to the million swans gliding along, to the shuttle and sadly (very, very sadly) so goodbye to nourishing weekend and the land of the leprechauns.
Saturday we got up around 10, Kristin made delicious egg scrambles and instant coffee for breakfast and then we left around 11:30 or so and walked around. It wasn't raining yet and we walked to the Temple Bar area and went to a great farmer's market that sold asian food, curries, mexican food, salsas, crepes, meats, fish, beautiful breads, and had a plethora of samples. It was fabulous. Then we walked through this area of Dublin, past some stands of books, and over towards Trinity College campus. I had been to Trinity before when I came to Ireland with my family when I was 13 and I remembered the building the Book of Kells was in. This was super exciting because I don't remember much of Dublin from seven years ago. Here is a picture from the campus:
After this we went to a sweater shop and I fell in love with one and caved...it was on sale!!! Here I am in my new Irish sweater:
After this, it started raining so I put on my new sweater under my coat and we walked through the major shopping street to this beautiful park full of golden, brown, red, and a few green leaves. It was so great. It felt like autumn, the air had the familiar Seattle-esque mist (that totally beats Milan's constant downpour) and we wandered around the pond and through the trees.
After this we headed back to that crazy shopping street and went into this massive ritzy department store where they had a gigantic purse, probably around 10 ft tall with matching proportions. The idea was to let people go inside it and sit for a 1 minute video of the world through the eyes of a purse. The gigantic purse even jostled the passenger/viewer around a little bit as if it was going over bumps in the road, on rickety bike, or spinning around on a swing. It was a hilarious and ridiculous marketing technique. Wonderful. We were hungry and ready to get out of the rain after this so we headed back to Kristin's apartment. On our way we stopped at a grocery store to get some food to bring to a Thanksgiving dinner Kristin's friend had been invited to. At Kristin's apartment, she made us a small lunch and we made some Irish coffee as a wonderful pick-me-up and prepared vegetable to take to this Thanksgiving dinner. I forget how Kristin's friend had met these people but an American who had fallen in love with an Irish man and now lived here was hosting it on the outskirts of Dublin near the ebay headquarters of Dublin (since they worked for ebay). The dinner was a wonderfully crazy medley of Irish, Scottish, British, Canadian, German, French, and American. I love the mishmosh of culture that can come together, differing accents and lifestyles, in any small country in this small continent of Europe. The had turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, and much much more. Also pumpkin pie and apple pie!!!!! I nearly burst open...and managed to not eat or drink any Italian products!!! I met some really great people from all over, had some hilarious conversation, a round of story telling, and just a really random fabulous time. We left around 11 to go back towards Kristin's apartment. We got back a little after midnight and met up with one Kristin's friends from her program, went to a pub for a very short while, and ended up back at her apartment around 1:30. We all hung out for a bit longer until everyone passed out except me. I needed to leave her apartment at 4 am to get on a shuttle to the airport to catch a 6:30 am flight so I just stayed up all night, made some non-Irish coffee, and left at 4 am. Kristin lives on a canal (I have missed living near water SO MUCH) and I walked along it, next to the million swans gliding along, to the shuttle and sadly (very, very sadly) so goodbye to nourishing weekend and the land of the leprechauns.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
How many cities can you pop into in three days?... or bussing through the rolling hills of Tuscany
This past weekend my study abroad program (IES) took us on a trip through Tuscany. Midterms had just finished on Wednesday and Thursday morning at 8 a.m. our bus zipped out of Milan and south to Siena. The weather in Milan lately has been similar to a cold Tacoma, matching the midterm-induced stress and misery (the word "misery" being an extreme exaggeration because how can we really be all that miserable? if we have to take midterms, well, at least we are in Italy). As we continued south the sky brightened, the air was warmer (not to mention cleaner), and the rose and dropped into rolling hills. The hills and trees, crops and vineyards, were a range of reds, golds, and greens-- fitting for fall and the first weekend in November. What a perfect time of year to see this part of Italy. We arrived in Siena around 2:30 in the afternoon and, grateful to finally get our blood moving, had a short walking tour of the town. First we went into the church where St. Catherine's skull is kept. The story goes that St. Catherine was born in Siena but died in Rome and was quickly buried in Rome so that Rome could lay claim to her body. Well, Siena was none to pleased with their claim to holy fame buried in any other city. They decided to send some people to dig up her body. As they were running away with her body back to Siena, some Romans caught on to this not-so-stealthy plan and attacked them. During this process, St. Catherine's head fell off her body and, although Rome got her body back, the people from Siena took her head with them. The skull is now behind glass and very far away from the viewing area so this story is way more exciting than seeing her skull actually was. After this we walked through some of the streets of Siena to the main piazza in the this small, small city. We learned how Siena is built on three main hills and how Firenze and Siena have a rivalry originating in the middle ages and how they have horse races every year and the only year Siena won was in the 1200's...and just once (I just don't remember which year that was). Siena is still riding on this single victory, claiming this year they were in God's favor. Then we had some time to lie in the sun, eat gelato (of course), and purchase any souvenirs we wanted. This was my one opportunity to buy a "Siena" bracelet for my city-bracelet collection but it was 3 euros and I decided to see if I could find for 2 euros and come back if I couldn't...but then I never had the free time to either look for another or come back! Sad. In any case, after our sunny half hour in the piazza we went to the Duomo. The duomo in Siena is kind of small and kind of a mix of Firenze's Renaissance style and Milano's Gothic style. Then we climbed this tower next to it and soaked in an awesome view of Siena and Tuscany. Sometimes I wonder how much of what we do is treated as a photo opp and the moment that we are actually there is not really appreciated, absorbed, etc. Well, either way, it was beautiful up there. After this we walked to our hotel and our bus with all our stuff met us there. Like I mentioned before, Siena is built on three hills and I guess our hotel was in between two of them because there is this massive escalator split into four parts or so that runs all night that takes you down the hill to the street our hotel was on. Interesting, no? It was around 6 by the time we got back to our hotel and we had an hour and half before dinner to decompress/shower/unpack/relax, etc. I ended up rooming with a girl from UPS named Robyn (who I will be going to Krakow with in a couple weeks) and I find it really interesting how this study abroad trip has brought me together with other people from UPS that I wasn't friends with at school. After dinner, we went out and explored the piazza a little bit but Siena is very small and there isn't much going on in this city on a Thursday night.
Friday morning we left around 9 a.m. for Montalcino which is a very small town not too far away. We first visited a fortress which offered also some more breathtaking views of Tuscany. From up high and far away, the hills look like patches of crops or vineyards, rolling and golden and green and red and orange. A medley of beautiful fall colors arranged as if you were up in an airplane and looking down on a cloudless day. Friday we again had beautiful weather. People have started pulling out their winter coats in Milano but in Montalcino (Siena, too) I kept switching between my t-shirt and sweater during the daytime. At the fortress, there was wine tasting and local wines on sale. I did not invest in either due to my money-saving obsession...yet I still, somehow, seem to be no good at conserving money at all. Very worrisome. Anyways, after the fortress I wandered the town with Alba and Kathleen. We weaved through the street markets, found some super cheap lunch, frolicked in the sun, rested our feet next to golden vineyards, and took an ample amount of pictures of us looking cute, in front of beautiful patch-work views, and soaked in some much needed vitamin D. I felt so lucky to be there. When someone says "I'd like to retire to a villa in Tuscany" they are envisioning somewhere like Montalcino and especially envisioning it on a day like the day we had there. It was so beautiful, I couldn't believe it. I think when I first decided to study in Italy, before I picked out a program or city, I imagined myself somewhere more like Siena or somewhere with landscapes more like Tuscany. Oh well. I am still so lucky to have been able to visit this incredible region.
We left Montalcino around 2:30 in the afternoon and got back on the bus to go to the Sant' Antimo monastery in time for their Gregorian chant. This monastery was in the middle of almost nowhere amongst the beautiful hills and golden fields of Tuscany. Right next to it was an olive grove where people were harvesting. The church was from the medieval times and very, very cold on the inside. The chant was really cool, I'd never heard monks chanting before. It wasn't very long, but it was peaceful. Afterward one of the monks who had just arrived from LA talked to us about the monastery and the history of the church and the monastery and about some of the art history relating to the iconography in the church. We left Sant' Antimo to drop in, very briefly, to Pienza, or the Ideal City. I'm not really sure what about this small town makes it ideal but it was built by a pope hundreds of years ago according to his vision of "ideal." Again, we wandered through the small, cobblestone streets of a Tuscan city, stopped for an espresso shot, and took pictures of the sunset. We probably weren't here for more than an hour and finally returned the hotel, exhausted and totally drained, around 6:30 p.m.
After dinner, most everyone in the program went out to see what Siena had to offer on a Friday night. There was a live performance near the main piazza, many tents with cook-outs and wine from local wineries. At midnight they were opening the "new bottle" of wine of the season so it was big party leading up to midnight and after, as well (hence the tents of food, live performance, and tons of people in the street). It was a great night full of local wine, dancing, live music, and I even got to ride a vespa (which was one of my semester goals)! Success!!! Siena may be small but it is beautiful and much more my image of what studying in Italy would have been like. Plus, it was way warmer than Milano! And it isn't so small that it goes to sleep at 10:00 at night, even during the week.
Saturday morning we left Siena at 9:30 in the morning, with all our luggage, and drove an hour and a half to Arezzo. We had reservations to see the Piero della Francesco frescoes in one of the local churches. This was really cool and fed my art history appetite. The Student Services coordinator at IES, Walter, gave us a brief talk about the different panels and the bible stories they corresponded to. After this we wandered through the street markets. It was made up of mostly vintage items and antiques. The jewelry was absolutely beautiful but ridiculously, and very sadly, expensive (40 euro for a pair of earrings? I don't care if you say its real silver, this is a street market!). They also had relics from World War II (like a personal sized Mein Kampf, advertisements, coins, propaganda) and many beautiful glass lamps, vintage hats, and then, of course, a bunch of useless crap. I got a silk scarf for 3 euro but that was, impressively, my only purchase. We got falafel and kebabs for lunch and wandered some more. We had a bit too much time in Arezzo and most of us were pretty exhausted from all the stops the previous day so by 2:30 or so when we left, we all passed out on the bus. It took us FOREVER to get back due to traffic jams and things and the bus got really obnoxiously loud with car games and some singing. Ah well at least my ipod didn't die en route. I got back to my apartment, made myself some dinner, poured myself a glass of wine, and watched "Across the Universe" until I fell asleep.
I wanted to go out a bit today but its been pouring rain on and off all day so I haven't had the motivation or the bravery to leave the apartment. Back to classes this week, hopefully if I get any grades back from midterms they aren't too shabby. This will be my first indication of how I am doing in my classes.
Friday morning we left around 9 a.m. for Montalcino which is a very small town not too far away. We first visited a fortress which offered also some more breathtaking views of Tuscany. From up high and far away, the hills look like patches of crops or vineyards, rolling and golden and green and red and orange. A medley of beautiful fall colors arranged as if you were up in an airplane and looking down on a cloudless day. Friday we again had beautiful weather. People have started pulling out their winter coats in Milano but in Montalcino (Siena, too) I kept switching between my t-shirt and sweater during the daytime. At the fortress, there was wine tasting and local wines on sale. I did not invest in either due to my money-saving obsession...yet I still, somehow, seem to be no good at conserving money at all. Very worrisome. Anyways, after the fortress I wandered the town with Alba and Kathleen. We weaved through the street markets, found some super cheap lunch, frolicked in the sun, rested our feet next to golden vineyards, and took an ample amount of pictures of us looking cute, in front of beautiful patch-work views, and soaked in some much needed vitamin D. I felt so lucky to be there. When someone says "I'd like to retire to a villa in Tuscany" they are envisioning somewhere like Montalcino and especially envisioning it on a day like the day we had there. It was so beautiful, I couldn't believe it. I think when I first decided to study in Italy, before I picked out a program or city, I imagined myself somewhere more like Siena or somewhere with landscapes more like Tuscany. Oh well. I am still so lucky to have been able to visit this incredible region.
We left Montalcino around 2:30 in the afternoon and got back on the bus to go to the Sant' Antimo monastery in time for their Gregorian chant. This monastery was in the middle of almost nowhere amongst the beautiful hills and golden fields of Tuscany. Right next to it was an olive grove where people were harvesting. The church was from the medieval times and very, very cold on the inside. The chant was really cool, I'd never heard monks chanting before. It wasn't very long, but it was peaceful. Afterward one of the monks who had just arrived from LA talked to us about the monastery and the history of the church and the monastery and about some of the art history relating to the iconography in the church. We left Sant' Antimo to drop in, very briefly, to Pienza, or the Ideal City. I'm not really sure what about this small town makes it ideal but it was built by a pope hundreds of years ago according to his vision of "ideal." Again, we wandered through the small, cobblestone streets of a Tuscan city, stopped for an espresso shot, and took pictures of the sunset. We probably weren't here for more than an hour and finally returned the hotel, exhausted and totally drained, around 6:30 p.m.
After dinner, most everyone in the program went out to see what Siena had to offer on a Friday night. There was a live performance near the main piazza, many tents with cook-outs and wine from local wineries. At midnight they were opening the "new bottle" of wine of the season so it was big party leading up to midnight and after, as well (hence the tents of food, live performance, and tons of people in the street). It was a great night full of local wine, dancing, live music, and I even got to ride a vespa (which was one of my semester goals)! Success!!! Siena may be small but it is beautiful and much more my image of what studying in Italy would have been like. Plus, it was way warmer than Milano! And it isn't so small that it goes to sleep at 10:00 at night, even during the week.
Saturday morning we left Siena at 9:30 in the morning, with all our luggage, and drove an hour and a half to Arezzo. We had reservations to see the Piero della Francesco frescoes in one of the local churches. This was really cool and fed my art history appetite. The Student Services coordinator at IES, Walter, gave us a brief talk about the different panels and the bible stories they corresponded to. After this we wandered through the street markets. It was made up of mostly vintage items and antiques. The jewelry was absolutely beautiful but ridiculously, and very sadly, expensive (40 euro for a pair of earrings? I don't care if you say its real silver, this is a street market!). They also had relics from World War II (like a personal sized Mein Kampf, advertisements, coins, propaganda) and many beautiful glass lamps, vintage hats, and then, of course, a bunch of useless crap. I got a silk scarf for 3 euro but that was, impressively, my only purchase. We got falafel and kebabs for lunch and wandered some more. We had a bit too much time in Arezzo and most of us were pretty exhausted from all the stops the previous day so by 2:30 or so when we left, we all passed out on the bus. It took us FOREVER to get back due to traffic jams and things and the bus got really obnoxiously loud with car games and some singing. Ah well at least my ipod didn't die en route. I got back to my apartment, made myself some dinner, poured myself a glass of wine, and watched "Across the Universe" until I fell asleep.
I wanted to go out a bit today but its been pouring rain on and off all day so I haven't had the motivation or the bravery to leave the apartment. Back to classes this week, hopefully if I get any grades back from midterms they aren't too shabby. This will be my first indication of how I am doing in my classes.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Pisa and Cinque Terra
This past weekend was a three day weekend due to today being "All Saints Day," a national holiday (you know you're in a Catholic country when...). Friday there was a big strike on the metro and none of the lines were working for most of the day. The protest went down the straight my classes are on so we all stopped our 3 hour Italian class to go outside and watch. Here are some students and I at the protest. The protest was about immigration rights (sound familiar?), workers rights, and then some communist propaganda definately got passed out. I'm in the front with the red shirt and coffee cup in hand.
The coffee cup brings up another highlight of Friday. I went to the American coffee shop near Universita Cattolica (the university that IES is associated with) and its basically Starbucks except called "Arnold Coffee" and I got drip coffee. Big, big deal. I was so jittery and caffeinated for hours, oh it was so great. They even had bagel sandwiches, which I will have you know, is the first bagel sighting in Milan. Right after class, Jordan, Marissa, Lauren, and hopped on a train to Pisa. Once we got there we bee-lined for the tower. Pretty cool. Check that off the list.
The coffee cup brings up another highlight of Friday. I went to the American coffee shop near Universita Cattolica (the university that IES is associated with) and its basically Starbucks except called "Arnold Coffee" and I got drip coffee. Big, big deal. I was so jittery and caffeinated for hours, oh it was so great. They even had bagel sandwiches, which I will have you know, is the first bagel sighting in Milan. Right after class, Jordan, Marissa, Lauren, and hopped on a train to Pisa. Once we got there we bee-lined for the tower. Pretty cool. Check that off the list.Yeah, I kept that thing from toppling over. At the piazza where the duomo and the tower is there is a huge market for us tourists. T-shirts, leaning shot glasses, pashmina scarves, etc. We all stocked up on some slightly over-priced gifts, expanded scarf collections (somehow magically refrained from buying one for myself...I think its my fear of spending money). It was getting late and we were getting really, really hungry so we found a pizzeria to stop at for dinner, followed by the obligatory gelato trip. Yes, I was shivering in my thin pants and fall jacket but I am never too cold for gelato. I don't know what I'm going to do when I go back to America and am not expected to order two flavors at once, when I don't have hazelnut and nutella flavor options regularly. Oh dear. After our evening in Pisa, we hopped back on the train to Riomaggiore. Riomaggiore is the southern most town along the beautiful coast called Cinque Terra (five towns). Cinque Terra is a line of five towns along the water that is famous for its beautiful hike, gorgous views, great Pesto from nearby Genova, and (when warmer) wonderful beaches. The buildings in the town are all sorts of different bright colors. We arrived near ten thirty at night and lugged our backpacks uphil to our hostel. After we dropped off our stuff we looked to try and find somewhere to have a glass of wine, explore the town a little, but that was impossible. Riomaggiore, apparently, shuts down before 11 pm even on a Friday night. This should give you some idea of how small these towns are.
In the morning, Julie met us in Riomaggiore and we began our hiking endeavor. The first hike is called "The Road of Love" and has carvings and signatures and so-and-so plus so-and-so forever carved/written all over the sides of the stones. The view was beautiful and probably really romantic in the summer. The next hike was closed because of a land slide and alternate path way was three hours so we hopped on the three minute train instead. In the third town we found lunch and I split a half liter of white wine with Jordan. This was a fabulous idea because I then felt invincible and super brave on the hike. I was full of enthusiasm and the view was beautiful and the air was so clean and it was so refreshing and centering. This hike was our longest and took Julie and I a little over an hour and it ended up tearing the sole of one of my fake ten dollar keds from Target so I'd say it was a great success. We arrived in the fourth town in the mid to late afternoon and did a little exploring through the shops while we waited for the rest of the group to catch up. Because it was late and Julie's train back to Milano was going to leave to soon for us to hike the last stretch, we ended up taking the train to the fifth town. We explored a little there. It was on the water and very, very chilly since it was around 6 pm and northern Italy is definately not a warm place to hang out this time of year. I imagine its incredibly beautiful and relaxing during the warmer months of the year. After this we took the train back to Riomaggiore, picked up our stuff from our hostel, and hopped on a train back to Milan. We had an hour layover in Genova so we got super green, pesto dinners at a restraunt near to the train station (since pesto's origins are in Genova). So many hours on trains, at train stations. I arrived back to my apartment a little after midnight, totally exhausted, and slept through most of Sunday.
Sunday evening I went over to my travel buddies' apartment and got ready for halloween. I was a super lame Bellatrix from Harry Potter and they were all animals and took soooooooooooo many pictures. Check facebook for that monster photo album. And today I've just been procrastinating my homework. Its a two-day week this week but I still, somehow, have two presentations, a paper, and a test. Midterms week 2.
Here we go November...
Sunday, October 31, 2010
How many steps can you climb in one weekend?...or, a Jew's weekend in Rome
Last weekend four other people on my program and I flew down to Rome for a our three day weekend. Our flight left late Thursday night and we wondered around Rome until about 1 a.m. until we found our cleverly named, although not as cleverly located, Sunshine Hostel. It was a late night considering we had 8:30 a.m. reservations for the Vatican the next morning. Getting reservations was the best decision ever. It was only 4 extra euro and we already had discounted tickets because we are students under age 26. So we got to skip the weaving line that was already too long at 8:30 a.m., zip through security, and weasel on into Vatican city. This was our route through the Vatican: 
So first we went through a bunch of museums with fragmented sculputres, stone heads and limbs, etc. Shawn's observation: "God there is a lot of shit in here." No better way to put it. Then we weaved between the overflowing tour groups through the tapestry room, under elaborate and exquisite ceilings, walking on mosaic floors and past many images of Jesus and shops selling rosaries and other souveneirs. Here is a beautiful mosaic floor and an example of just one intricate ceiling.
The Vatican museums then tooks us through the Raphael room which was pretty much a dream come true. Two of my traveling companions and I had just studied "The School of Athens" in our Leonardo da Vinci Art History class so we looked for all the different mathematicians and philosphers that we had discussed. Then Patrick and I took a picture in front of it to prove our presence.
You can see just how gigantic the "School of Athens" really is here. All of the Raphael rooms were pretty extroadinary but the constant new testament images/scenes were really starting to overwhelm me. We did get to see "St. Jerome" by Leonardo da Vinci as well though, which is apparently rarely on display, and we had just studied this unfinished painting in class. Soon after we stumbled into the Modern Art wing of the Vatican. I had no idea the Vatican even had a Modern art collection!!! This was super exciting. I saw Braque, Rivera, Fontana (of course), Klee, Chagall, among others. I even got to see a piece by an artist that was friends with my mom when we lived in Houston. I had no idea that the Vatican had a piece by her! That was a pretty cool painting to stumble upon. Little claim to fame. After this we weaved into the Sistine Chapel. In here we were not allowed to take pictures. My head almost snapped of my neck from leaning up for so long. The figures on the ceiling really looked like they were about to jump out at us. It was so incredible. And of course we saw the heaven/hell wall, "Creation of man," and all the rest. We actually went through it twice due to its awesomeness. Then we went to St. Peters and climbed the Basiclica which likes 800 steps or something and cost 5 euros. Halfway up we were inside the dome, walking around the inside to see the mosaics and the paintings and architecure, and then the next part of climbing almost gave me an claustrophobia-induced panic attack. The stairs were SO narrow and then they curved so walls curved so it felt like building was curving in on you. Definately started hyper-ventilating a little bit and I wasn't sure how I was going to make it. But we finally made to the top of the Cupola and stepped outside. Here is us (minus Kathleen) at the very top with an exquisite view of the Vatican and Rome.
After that we climbed back down, successfully with no full on anxiety attacks, and went into the bascilica itself. That was pretty incredible. It was so packed full of tourists from everywhere, so many different languages, so many tour guides. The paintings and architecture were mind blowing. I can't even describe it. We also got to see Michaelangelo's "Pieta."
After we went to the Vatican we found lunch nearby and walked around a bit through this confusing labrynth of castle-area and across the river. We decided to make our next ultra-touristy destination the Colosseum. No one successfully stole any rocks, unforuntately.
So first we went through a bunch of museums with fragmented sculputres, stone heads and limbs, etc. Shawn's observation: "God there is a lot of shit in here." No better way to put it. Then we weaved between the overflowing tour groups through the tapestry room, under elaborate and exquisite ceilings, walking on mosaic floors and past many images of Jesus and shops selling rosaries and other souveneirs. Here is a beautiful mosaic floor and an example of just one intricate ceiling.
The Vatican museums then tooks us through the Raphael room which was pretty much a dream come true. Two of my traveling companions and I had just studied "The School of Athens" in our Leonardo da Vinci Art History class so we looked for all the different mathematicians and philosphers that we had discussed. Then Patrick and I took a picture in front of it to prove our presence.
You can see just how gigantic the "School of Athens" really is here. All of the Raphael rooms were pretty extroadinary but the constant new testament images/scenes were really starting to overwhelm me. We did get to see "St. Jerome" by Leonardo da Vinci as well though, which is apparently rarely on display, and we had just studied this unfinished painting in class. Soon after we stumbled into the Modern Art wing of the Vatican. I had no idea the Vatican even had a Modern art collection!!! This was super exciting. I saw Braque, Rivera, Fontana (of course), Klee, Chagall, among others. I even got to see a piece by an artist that was friends with my mom when we lived in Houston. I had no idea that the Vatican had a piece by her! That was a pretty cool painting to stumble upon. Little claim to fame. After this we weaved into the Sistine Chapel. In here we were not allowed to take pictures. My head almost snapped of my neck from leaning up for so long. The figures on the ceiling really looked like they were about to jump out at us. It was so incredible. And of course we saw the heaven/hell wall, "Creation of man," and all the rest. We actually went through it twice due to its awesomeness. Then we went to St. Peters and climbed the Basiclica which likes 800 steps or something and cost 5 euros. Halfway up we were inside the dome, walking around the inside to see the mosaics and the paintings and architecure, and then the next part of climbing almost gave me an claustrophobia-induced panic attack. The stairs were SO narrow and then they curved so walls curved so it felt like building was curving in on you. Definately started hyper-ventilating a little bit and I wasn't sure how I was going to make it. But we finally made to the top of the Cupola and stepped outside. Here is us (minus Kathleen) at the very top with an exquisite view of the Vatican and Rome.
After that we climbed back down, successfully with no full on anxiety attacks, and went into the bascilica itself. That was pretty incredible. It was so packed full of tourists from everywhere, so many different languages, so many tour guides. The paintings and architecture were mind blowing. I can't even describe it. We also got to see Michaelangelo's "Pieta."
After we went to the Vatican we found lunch nearby and walked around a bit through this confusing labrynth of castle-area and across the river. We decided to make our next ultra-touristy destination the Colosseum. No one successfully stole any rocks, unforuntately.
The Colosseum was really awesome and it was beautiful weather so we took lots of awesome pictures, sat on various shaped rocks to rest our sleepy feet, and imagined all sorts of bloody gladiators roaring through the theater. After this we went through a forum which was basically mounds of old rocks and ruins and lots of beautiful trees. Here I am climbing around the ancient bricks and being pensive aka resting amongst the beauty.
After strolling leisurely through the forum, we took the metro back to Sunshine Hostel to shower and rest. It had been a long day of walking, sightseeing, and being expert tourists. We went out to dinner after this and followed up with a bottle of wine at the Trevi Fountain and at the Spanish Steps, jam packing our day with tourist activities.
On Saturday we slept in until about 10:30 and got up to to go to the Pantheon. This was pretty awesome as well, feeling all centered by classical architecture and all. More and more and more Christian imagry and celebration. Because of this, after lunch, I begged my fellow travelers to accompany me to the Jewish Ghetto. They obliged but we barely got to see anything besides the outside of the buildings because it was Saturday, Shabbat, and EVERYTHING was closed. Bad timing. After this, Gloria went back to the hostel because she wasn't feeling so well. Shawn and Patrick and I continuted to tour some beautiful churches, saw the "Ecstasy of Theresa" and huge, monumental buildings. I don't even know the name of everything we saw. I found some more gifts. Exhausted, we finally headed back to the hostel for a nap before dinner. We took the train to a new neighborhood we hadn't explored yet near the Espana metro stop and found a pizzeria for dinner. After his we split a bottle of wine by the traditional entrance to the city of Rome. We had an early night because we had to get up at 3:30 am to catch a shuttle to airport to get on a plane at 6:50 am. Weekends are no longer a time to catch up on sleep.
Rome was incredibly touristy but really great. The entire time I tried to decide if Rome would have been a better place to study abroad than Milan. Although I am not in love with Milan, I don't think the overwhelming touristy-ness of Rome would have really been my thing, either. It was an incredible weekend jam-packed with all sorts of art I'd been studying for years and never thought I'd get to see in person. Even if it was all, of course, suffocatingly about the New Testament. I returned to my apartment in Milan around 9:15 in the morning and slept from then until 3:30 in the afternoon.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
A Weekend of Day Trips, or Gray Days in Bologna and Padua
This past weekend I cut down on the cost of hostels and airfare by staying in Milan and taking two day trips. On Saturday I went to Bologna with two girls from my program that I hadn't traveled with before. It was really fun, minus the gray and the cold and the drizzle. When we got off the train we found a book fair with all sorts of books, art books, music books, novels, how-to guides, recent books, and old nice smelling books. They even sold one euro records! After the book fair in a white tent, we wondered into a really nice park with some awesome statues, especially turtle statues sitting in the middle of a man made non-fountain circle of water. It was in this great park with cruchy golden leaves that we stumbled into a massive market. This is when I realized I really liked Bologna, it was the most like Seattle. People spoke Spanish to me, sold all sorts of Mexican-type goods (wondering where that influence came from...) and then tapestries and scarves from India, lots of stands with earrings for all sorts of body parts, a couple booths for hairwraps, and then a plethora of general clothes and shoes stands. A lot of it was really cheap, 1 euro for scarves and jewlry. I got a couple presents but besides that was quite proud of my ability to refrain from spending. We got lunch at a little coffee bar and found an awesome CD store that had a fairly extensive American indie/rock section including such hits as Broken Social Scene, Born Ruffians, The National, and Tokyo Police Club. Helllz yeah! After a little while of wandering through gorgous architecture and a million arches, it began to drizzle so we headed back to the train station and hopped on a train back to Milano.
Today, Sunday, my roommate and I left bright and early on a 9:30 AM train to Padua. I had made reservations for us to see the Scrovegni Chapel where Giotto's frescos are...the beginnings of Renaissance art history. When we got to Padua, it was quite chilly and gray and we got a map and some falafel. Finally food with some spicey-ness! So delicious. And definately practiced our Italian. Then we wondered over to the Chapel and attatched museum to pick up our tickets. Then sent us through this multimedia center to gather information on the chapel. Most of it my professor had just lectured about in my art history class last Monday. Then we went and waited outside the chapel. Its pretty intense there. You have a reservation for a specific time and then you go into this glass room for 15 minutes where they show you another video of history and bits about restoration while they restore the temperature to the appropriate degree. After this you're allowed to enter, but only for 15 minutes! Inside the chapel there is someone to watch the time and someone to talk about the different panels and point out specifics. Unfortunately this person only spoke in Italian. The Scrovegni Chapel is very small but absolutely stunning. It really is bright, bright, bright blue!!! The panels are stunning, so many stories, the depiction of hell is overwhelming, the opposites and the juxtapositions of virtues and bible stories...aahhh!!! Unfortunately there was some we couldnt see due to a bit of scaffolding in front of one of the windows and limited areas where you are allowed to walk. I am so glad I went though. Such a huge art history moment for me. I think I've studied this in art history classes since high school!!! After visiting the Scrovegni Chapel we visited other parts of the museum, lots of archeology and then lots of religious paintings and portraits. You know...art from the 1400-1700's. After this we wondered around through the cold for a while, found the duomo, lots of amazing architecture. Padua is really interesting architecturaly because there is medieval architecture, Renaissance, French influenced, and even some Moor influenced! Crazy. Saw plaques that would say things like "Dating back to 1107..." and stuff like that. I really liked it. There were a few food markets but for the most part everything was closed due to it being Sunday afternoon. Ah well. Still a great day, despite shivering. Around 6 pm we headed back to Milan.
And now another week of classes and work awaits...
Today, Sunday, my roommate and I left bright and early on a 9:30 AM train to Padua. I had made reservations for us to see the Scrovegni Chapel where Giotto's frescos are...the beginnings of Renaissance art history. When we got to Padua, it was quite chilly and gray and we got a map and some falafel. Finally food with some spicey-ness! So delicious. And definately practiced our Italian. Then we wondered over to the Chapel and attatched museum to pick up our tickets. Then sent us through this multimedia center to gather information on the chapel. Most of it my professor had just lectured about in my art history class last Monday. Then we went and waited outside the chapel. Its pretty intense there. You have a reservation for a specific time and then you go into this glass room for 15 minutes where they show you another video of history and bits about restoration while they restore the temperature to the appropriate degree. After this you're allowed to enter, but only for 15 minutes! Inside the chapel there is someone to watch the time and someone to talk about the different panels and point out specifics. Unfortunately this person only spoke in Italian. The Scrovegni Chapel is very small but absolutely stunning. It really is bright, bright, bright blue!!! The panels are stunning, so many stories, the depiction of hell is overwhelming, the opposites and the juxtapositions of virtues and bible stories...aahhh!!! Unfortunately there was some we couldnt see due to a bit of scaffolding in front of one of the windows and limited areas where you are allowed to walk. I am so glad I went though. Such a huge art history moment for me. I think I've studied this in art history classes since high school!!! After visiting the Scrovegni Chapel we visited other parts of the museum, lots of archeology and then lots of religious paintings and portraits. You know...art from the 1400-1700's. After this we wondered around through the cold for a while, found the duomo, lots of amazing architecture. Padua is really interesting architecturaly because there is medieval architecture, Renaissance, French influenced, and even some Moor influenced! Crazy. Saw plaques that would say things like "Dating back to 1107..." and stuff like that. I really liked it. There were a few food markets but for the most part everything was closed due to it being Sunday afternoon. Ah well. Still a great day, despite shivering. Around 6 pm we headed back to Milan.
And now another week of classes and work awaits...
An Artsy Fartsy Week in Milano
This past week, my study abroad program IES gave us tickets to go see the ballet "Onegin" at La Scala! Big deal since La Scala is this super famous, beautiful, and historical opera house in the center of Milano. Since opera isn't so much thing, I hadn't planned on even walking into this prestigious place of performance. I don't think I would ever go out of my way to pay for tickets to the opera, even at La Scala. But a ballet, I was totally up for this ballet with music by Tchaichovsky. And boy was I in luck, this ballet even has a gun shot!!! It was all about revenge and love and stealing women's hearts and the like. I liked it, I loved watching the dancing...I haven't watched dancing in so long. I used to watch dancing all the time, at least three times a week, in person. Even if the music and style and level of competancy was on a totally different end of the spectrum. Of course me being me I couldn't stop thinking about when the dancers last injured themselves and if they were dancing on injuries and what countries they were from and how many times they had danced that ballet and how long they studied ballet and the competition to get to perform in La Scala. Then I started thinking about ballet as a possible epitome for all things graceful, delicate, and cultured. But this is only one perspective on all these traits, how Western civilization dictates what is considered good and bad, classy and trashy, through out most of the world. And then I started thinking about how based in Western civilization my education in the humanities is. Art history and all the Jesus and Mary's, all the literature and poetry I study written by Americans and Europeans...it just all seems like one piece of the pie that too much of the world eats from. I want another perspective. I am prisoner to ideals and values and to the making of Western civilization's history. I'm not sure this is what I want. Anyways, here is a picture of me and my friend inside La Scala.
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Then on Wednesday I went to the Castello Sforza with my Renaissance art history class to look at a ceiling painted by Leonardo da Vinci for the Sfroza family. No one really knows exactly what the room was used for since the French came in shortly after and painted over it and the room probably wasn't used for whatever its purpose was for very long. Then we saw a sculputre by Michaelanglo of Mary and Jesus which is this really cool sculputre where Mary has a face and a half and her leg is showing in what would be considered a scandalous way and it almost looks like Jesus is holding her up instead of Mary carrying Jesus. All very interesting. This is the kind of art history class I came to Italy to take...best field studies ever.
On Friday, it was my RA and my roommate's birthdays so we had a short celebratory lunch before my RA went home to Verona and my roommate took off for her weekend trip. Then my other flatmate and I went to the Piazza Reale to see an exhibit on Dali. This exhibit was interesting and definately included work spanning many decades. We saw the lips couch and the statue with the fur on it and one of his videos in addition to many paintings. Dali isn't my favorite and the exhibit was very stylistic, fitting for an exhibit on Dali I suppose, but I'm very glad I went.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
After a little more than a month living in Milano...
So I've been here for a little over a month now and still can barely speak Italian, only just a found a teaching position, have visited two other countries besides Italy, have only been in class for 2.5 weeks and use the currency convertor online everyday. I'm trying to diversify my diet but my cooking skills are mainly limited to pasta, cheese and pesto sandwiches, eggs, and veggie burgers. Ryanair is my new best friend. I miss my true, long-term friends desperately. I can barely interact with Italians due to my severely and disabling limited Italian. I've learned to really dislike the discothecas a.k.a. the clubs. I've been really inspired to write character sketches, poems, etc. I miss Shabbat dinner and the convenience of a college campus. I miss blues dancing so much. I miss real conversation and my professors. My professors here are just so-so. I miss not having to buy water when you go out to eat (which I almost never do anyways).
I love being around so much history all the time. I love the Alps. I love gelato. I love the field studies in my Leonardo da Vinci art history classes. Every Wednesday we have class on some site of historical importance. Last Wednesday we went to the church where the Last Supper is housed, Santa Maria della Gracia, and talked about the dome designed by Bramante. Today we are going to Castello Sforza and looking at a fresco by da Vinci. This kind of art history class is the main reason I chose to study in Italy. I love the freedom of traveling around Europe, even just around Italy and the Lombardia province.
They say traveling abroad is like U. You begin elated, amazed, and in awe of the culture you are exploring. Then you start to sink a little bit, missing the comforts of home and familiar cultural norms. What I miss are the people I trust and feel connected to and unfortunately they are all back in the States. By December, the theory says, I'll have fallen in love with Italy and will be resistant to leaving. So we shall see.
Quirks I've noticed about Italy thus far:
1. Parking. Cars will often park half on the street and half on the sidewalk. If you're lucky. I have definately seen some cars parked entirely on the sidewalk. Makes for a weaving walk to class many mornings!
2. When you go out to eat in America, water is complimentary with just sitting down. Not here. You have to order it and its bottled water and then you have to pay for it.
3. The elevators. They have a door on the floor, doors in the elevator, and its all manual. Often you can see the floors as you pass up and down because the walls of the elevator are glass or even mere screens.
4. Pineapple and avocados are really expensive.
5. Vespas. Everywhere. More than just a stereotype.
6. Speaking of stereotypes, gestures are definately part of the Italian language. Confirmation was learning particular ones and their meanings in my Italian language class.
7. McDonalds is everywhere.
8. Coffee culture. But I've already written about that extensively.
9. Wine is really cheap at the grocery store. And I'm definately developing a strong affinity for wine, red and white.
10. There are no dryers. The washing machine in my apartment takes about two hours and then you have to hang up your clothes on a drying rack to dry. Makes me appreciate the poor dryers at UPS that barely dried your clothes...but at least you could get your clothes to shrink back again.
There are definately more I just can't think of them right now.
I love being around so much history all the time. I love the Alps. I love gelato. I love the field studies in my Leonardo da Vinci art history classes. Every Wednesday we have class on some site of historical importance. Last Wednesday we went to the church where the Last Supper is housed, Santa Maria della Gracia, and talked about the dome designed by Bramante. Today we are going to Castello Sforza and looking at a fresco by da Vinci. This kind of art history class is the main reason I chose to study in Italy. I love the freedom of traveling around Europe, even just around Italy and the Lombardia province.
They say traveling abroad is like U. You begin elated, amazed, and in awe of the culture you are exploring. Then you start to sink a little bit, missing the comforts of home and familiar cultural norms. What I miss are the people I trust and feel connected to and unfortunately they are all back in the States. By December, the theory says, I'll have fallen in love with Italy and will be resistant to leaving. So we shall see.
Quirks I've noticed about Italy thus far:
1. Parking. Cars will often park half on the street and half on the sidewalk. If you're lucky. I have definately seen some cars parked entirely on the sidewalk. Makes for a weaving walk to class many mornings!
2. When you go out to eat in America, water is complimentary with just sitting down. Not here. You have to order it and its bottled water and then you have to pay for it.
3. The elevators. They have a door on the floor, doors in the elevator, and its all manual. Often you can see the floors as you pass up and down because the walls of the elevator are glass or even mere screens.
4. Pineapple and avocados are really expensive.
5. Vespas. Everywhere. More than just a stereotype.
6. Speaking of stereotypes, gestures are definately part of the Italian language. Confirmation was learning particular ones and their meanings in my Italian language class.
7. McDonalds is everywhere.
8. Coffee culture. But I've already written about that extensively.
9. Wine is really cheap at the grocery store. And I'm definately developing a strong affinity for wine, red and white.
10. There are no dryers. The washing machine in my apartment takes about two hours and then you have to hang up your clothes on a drying rack to dry. Makes me appreciate the poor dryers at UPS that barely dried your clothes...but at least you could get your clothes to shrink back again.
There are definately more I just can't think of them right now.
Cultivating a Love for Gaudi and Sangria, or a Weekend in Barcelona and Reus
This past weekend three girls in my program and I ventured to Barcelona. Our journey began at 3:30 am last Friday morning as we trekked across the city, past trench-coat wearing prostitutes and schizophrenic bag ladies, drag queens and pimps, to catch our shuttle to the airport. Our flight was at 7 in the morning and it was still dark outside when our plane left Milan. We arrived, yawning and incoherent, at the Barcelona airport and by 9:30 or so we arrived, sweaty messes, at our hostel and very eager to check in and shower. However, our room wasn't ready until 1 p.m. so we dropped our stuff off and went to find breakfast and Starbucks. Starbucks might be my favorite part of traveling outside Italy because that venti Pike's Place roast seems to be the only thing to adequately caffeinate me...or at least satisfy some inkling of homesickness. Our hostel was located near the University of Barcelona and the Museum of Contemporary Art. After breakfast we went to the museum which was just as pretentious and confusing as any contemporary art museum maybe. The really exciting part, for me at least, was to see a Lucio Fontana painting. According to my modern art history professor, Lucio Fonatana is THE defining artist of the Italian spatial concept movement/explorartion. I had just had an entire 2 hour lecture on this one dude the previous day so it was pretty neat to just stumble upon one of his canvases with holes poked into it.
Finally it was time for us to check into the hostel. Oh, this hostel was a trip. The door person was really late for check-in and there was a group of probably 10 of us waiting for him to come back. We were really exhausted since we had woken up a little before 3:30 am and dying for a nap and a shower. Finally we made it to our room where there was a Finnish dude on his computer. We introduced ourselves and he told us he was a chef at a restraunt and hadn't found an apartment in Barcelona yet. Good thing he introduced himself as a chef because about 15 minutes later, while we're all lying on our beds contemplating sleep, he pulls out a set of knives and begins sharpening them. SCARY. I mean, I know he's a chef and all but couldn't he have gone in to work early to sharpen his knives? I mean four young girls had just walked into the room. Needless to say, I couldn't fall asleep until after he had left for work.
Later that afternoon we walked down La Rambla which is the big shopping and tourist street with postcard/souveiner stands, performance artists, and McDonalds. After oggling the performance artists ability to be perfectly still until someone gives them money and clasping our purses tightly to ensure our wallets' return to Milan, we took the metro to Guell Park. Guell Park is the park designed by Gaudi with the longest bench in the world!!! I had gone here with my mother and brother when we biked through Catalonia when I was 16 but I really liked this park so it was nice to come back. Unfortunately the day was rather overcast. We walked/climbed around for a bit, took lots of pictures, goofed off, etc and around 7 or so we headed back to try and find tapas for dinner. We went to a little place near our hostel and unfortunately vegetarian tapas are pretty limited, at least at the more inexpensive places. I ended up eating a lot of potatos and Spanish omlettes all weekend. But the sangria was soooo delicious. I think I would go back to Spain just for the sangria. And probably to see the Alhambra.
On Saturday, we got up and left at 10 to check out of our hostel. We still stored our stuff there and then I split off from my travel companions. They had signed up for a bike tour but hadn't told me until after I had packed up and arrived at their apartment Thursday night before our early flight Friday and all I had packed were skirts and dresses. Not my favorite biking attire. So they went off on their bike tour and, after my venti Pike's Place roast, I went to the National Museum of Catalan Art. I saw a huge amount of Romansque pieces, room after room of gold and Jesus and Mary and tryptichs (sp?) and pre-linear perspective scenes. But I also got to see some of Picasso's cubist portraits and I got to see a portrait by Goya. I think this might have been the first time I saw a Goya in person. I'm glad I went. Afterwards, I tried to find the Miro museum but got kind of lost and ended up wandering through some beautiful gardens and ran out of time. It was really nice to go around on my own, however. It gave me a chance to think and decompress and just be myself without having to worry about all that stuff I worry about when I'm with other people. The previous week had been really crazy and especially Thursday and travelling had been really rushed and thus rather stressful. After the museum, I met back up with my travel companions and we went to retrieve our stuff from the hostel, got dinner, and caught a train to Reus.
We had booked our outbound plane from Reus because it had been a less expensive flight but what we didn't realize was just how far Barcelona and Reus are from each other. So we caught an 8:00 train to Reus in order to spend the night there and catch our early plane. Reus is a very, very small town and there isn't much going on. Around 11 or so we ventured out to try and explore and we found a piazza with some restraunts. Two of my travel compananions ordered paella and I got some more potato based tapas and we split some delicious sangria.
I really like Barcelona, I really love the organic and flowing Gaudi architecture. It was so nice to be able to speak Spanish instead of Italian, although I definately started to confuse the two due to their similiarities. I wish I had gotten to visit more of the Gaudi architecture I saw my first trip to Barcelona with my family and I wish I had been able to go to the Miro museum because I really like Miro. However, the biggest challenge of any overnight trip is saving money. Eeek.
Finally it was time for us to check into the hostel. Oh, this hostel was a trip. The door person was really late for check-in and there was a group of probably 10 of us waiting for him to come back. We were really exhausted since we had woken up a little before 3:30 am and dying for a nap and a shower. Finally we made it to our room where there was a Finnish dude on his computer. We introduced ourselves and he told us he was a chef at a restraunt and hadn't found an apartment in Barcelona yet. Good thing he introduced himself as a chef because about 15 minutes later, while we're all lying on our beds contemplating sleep, he pulls out a set of knives and begins sharpening them. SCARY. I mean, I know he's a chef and all but couldn't he have gone in to work early to sharpen his knives? I mean four young girls had just walked into the room. Needless to say, I couldn't fall asleep until after he had left for work.
Later that afternoon we walked down La Rambla which is the big shopping and tourist street with postcard/souveiner stands, performance artists, and McDonalds. After oggling the performance artists ability to be perfectly still until someone gives them money and clasping our purses tightly to ensure our wallets' return to Milan, we took the metro to Guell Park. Guell Park is the park designed by Gaudi with the longest bench in the world!!! I had gone here with my mother and brother when we biked through Catalonia when I was 16 but I really liked this park so it was nice to come back. Unfortunately the day was rather overcast. We walked/climbed around for a bit, took lots of pictures, goofed off, etc and around 7 or so we headed back to try and find tapas for dinner. We went to a little place near our hostel and unfortunately vegetarian tapas are pretty limited, at least at the more inexpensive places. I ended up eating a lot of potatos and Spanish omlettes all weekend. But the sangria was soooo delicious. I think I would go back to Spain just for the sangria. And probably to see the Alhambra.
On Saturday, we got up and left at 10 to check out of our hostel. We still stored our stuff there and then I split off from my travel companions. They had signed up for a bike tour but hadn't told me until after I had packed up and arrived at their apartment Thursday night before our early flight Friday and all I had packed were skirts and dresses. Not my favorite biking attire. So they went off on their bike tour and, after my venti Pike's Place roast, I went to the National Museum of Catalan Art. I saw a huge amount of Romansque pieces, room after room of gold and Jesus and Mary and tryptichs (sp?) and pre-linear perspective scenes. But I also got to see some of Picasso's cubist portraits and I got to see a portrait by Goya. I think this might have been the first time I saw a Goya in person. I'm glad I went. Afterwards, I tried to find the Miro museum but got kind of lost and ended up wandering through some beautiful gardens and ran out of time. It was really nice to go around on my own, however. It gave me a chance to think and decompress and just be myself without having to worry about all that stuff I worry about when I'm with other people. The previous week had been really crazy and especially Thursday and travelling had been really rushed and thus rather stressful. After the museum, I met back up with my travel companions and we went to retrieve our stuff from the hostel, got dinner, and caught a train to Reus.
We had booked our outbound plane from Reus because it had been a less expensive flight but what we didn't realize was just how far Barcelona and Reus are from each other. So we caught an 8:00 train to Reus in order to spend the night there and catch our early plane. Reus is a very, very small town and there isn't much going on. Around 11 or so we ventured out to try and explore and we found a piazza with some restraunts. Two of my travel compananions ordered paella and I got some more potato based tapas and we split some delicious sangria.
I really like Barcelona, I really love the organic and flowing Gaudi architecture. It was so nice to be able to speak Spanish instead of Italian, although I definately started to confuse the two due to their similiarities. I wish I had gotten to visit more of the Gaudi architecture I saw my first trip to Barcelona with my family and I wish I had been able to go to the Miro museum because I really like Miro. However, the biggest challenge of any overnight trip is saving money. Eeek.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Oktoberfest, or a reminder of my distate for cliche frat life
This past week was the start of classes and its definately been a shock and an adjustment to get back into the academic state of mind. On Mondays I have class from 9-10:30 and then from 1:30-7:30. Thats six hours of straight class in the afternoon. Most other days I have four hour blocks of class. I am take Italian still. I am not quite sure what to make of my new classes yet. But I already have an essay due Thursday for my Modern Art hist class. Yikes. I am excited for the Photography class, however. I am excited for assignments and to go out and be working creatively with a camera again. The focus of this photo class is much more on the digital world and photojournalism and the use of photography in communications and media. It made me really miss the craziness of photography at lab, coming in during free periods to work in the darkroom and to appreciate the magic of film and the darkroom itself. This will definately be a different perspective on photography. I have heard that IES classes aren't challenging but I guess I'll just have to wait and see. I just hope I can keep traveling as much now that I have homework and papers and the like.
This past weekend I went to Munich for Oktoberfest with a group of international students at the business University in Milan called Bocconi. We left on Friday night from the main castle in Milan and drove all night through Switzerland and Germany. We all had a rough sleep on the bus with crooked necks and stiff backs. We arrived in Munich around 6:30 am on Saturday morning, crusty eyed and, at least I was, cranky. We went on a search for a bakery to find breakfast and by 9:30 am we were in line to get into the first tent. It was a bright, gray day of white clouds and a bit chilly with scattered showers. Entrance into the festival is free I think we had our first beer a little before 11, after searching, pushing, and waiting in lines that were shaped more like mobs. We made friends with some Australians who sat down next to us with crazy, huge felt hats. In the early afternoon, we wandered around the festival for a while. The best way I can describe Oktoberfest is carnival meets frat party meets german costume party. It seemed like frat boy heaven. Beer beer beer, food, girls in drindles and men in leederhausen (sp??), beer, and carnival rides. The rides baffled me a little bit because combining spinning, upside rides and roller coasters with a bunch of drunk people just seemed like a recipie for vomit. But a lot of families bring their young kids, as well. I definately saw some 6 year olds in the beer tents. So I guess it makes a little bit of sense.
Honestly, the entire festival baffles me a little bit. Maybe its because no matter how hard I try, I don't like beer. Maybe its because I'm not much of one for crowds or getting pushed around in mob-mentality ridden festivals. Maybe its because I still cannnot suscribe to the general objectification of women that reaches a whole new extreme when you add revealing versions of traditional German dress and drunk men together (although the objectification definately goes both ways, plenty of women are guilty of it, too). Or maybe I just got bored by noon of the whole scene or maybe I was just too exhausted from being undercaffeinated and having not slept very well on a bus and waking up way too early.
Around two in the afternoon, we left the festival to try and explore what of Munich was in walking-distance from Oktoberfest. Soon after exiting the festival, we saw a Starbucks cup sitting on a trash and went into a hotel to ask where the nearest one was. Strange that we would be so desperate to find an American coffee change admist a celebration of German culture, right? All I wanted was a strong cup of coffee and the familiar interior decorating that is identical to most other Starbucks. I never thought I would find so much comfort in Pike's Place roast and the signature wall paper. We rested in this American setting for a little while, gathering our strength and developing a game plan, soaking up the setting. I'm not sure if this trip to Starbucks calmed down my underlying homesickness or caused it to spike up. But I never thought I would be so happy to find a Starbucks. I guess you have to understand that coffee culture is so different in Italy that I doubt there is even a Starbucks in this entire country. I have yet to see one in Milan and Milan is basically the NYC of Italy. Here in Italy, you walk up to the bar and down your espresso shot and drink your morning cappucino with a brioche in your other hand while still standing at the bar. The giant, complicated drinks in to-go cups that we cherish in America do not seem to exist in Italy.
After Starbucks, we walked up and down what turned out to be a major shopping street in Munich. We saw a couple giant old buildings that are probably churches of some kind with gothic architecture. We went into the craziest department store that had a "Havana Bar" in their coats section. They were selling cocktails for 2,50 and had salsa dancers twirling in the aisles. It was the craziest thing ever. We even tried on drindles (picture below). We found the oldest brewery in Germany: Hofbrauhaus. We got dinner at a cheap, middle-eastern place and around 9 headed back to Oktoberfest. Exploring Munich was way more fun than the actual festival and I'm glad that we got a chance to do that, especially since I had never been to Germany before. In the back of my head, though, I couldn't stop thinking about how I was walking on land that Jews, my own family members, were forbidden from walking on just a little more than 60 years ago. It was so strange to think about the history of Germany, how most of where I was walking had probably been bombed out. I wondered what it would mean to German Jews of the 30's to know that Jews now walked on and lived in the very country that had murdered them. It was just strange remembering that every now and then throughout the day. I consciously made sure not to tell anyone that I was Jewish. I didn't know what kind of reaction I would get.
After returning to the festival, we walked around some more and found another tent to sit down near. We made some German and Dutch friends and around 11 we left to go back to our bus. The bus took the group of us to a hotel just 45 minutes outside the city. We left the next morning around 10:15 and, although it was a long day on the bus, since it was actually daytime for the drive we got to see the Alps. So beautiful. So many rivers and creeks run beside them. At one point I looked out the window and saw a hardcore, decked out biker speeding along on a bike path and I thought about all the biking through Europe my family used to do. So now I am back in Milan catching up on class readings and generally trying to gear up for a week of classes.
This past weekend I went to Munich for Oktoberfest with a group of international students at the business University in Milan called Bocconi. We left on Friday night from the main castle in Milan and drove all night through Switzerland and Germany. We all had a rough sleep on the bus with crooked necks and stiff backs. We arrived in Munich around 6:30 am on Saturday morning, crusty eyed and, at least I was, cranky. We went on a search for a bakery to find breakfast and by 9:30 am we were in line to get into the first tent. It was a bright, gray day of white clouds and a bit chilly with scattered showers. Entrance into the festival is free I think we had our first beer a little before 11, after searching, pushing, and waiting in lines that were shaped more like mobs. We made friends with some Australians who sat down next to us with crazy, huge felt hats. In the early afternoon, we wandered around the festival for a while. The best way I can describe Oktoberfest is carnival meets frat party meets german costume party. It seemed like frat boy heaven. Beer beer beer, food, girls in drindles and men in leederhausen (sp??), beer, and carnival rides. The rides baffled me a little bit because combining spinning, upside rides and roller coasters with a bunch of drunk people just seemed like a recipie for vomit. But a lot of families bring their young kids, as well. I definately saw some 6 year olds in the beer tents. So I guess it makes a little bit of sense.
Honestly, the entire festival baffles me a little bit. Maybe its because no matter how hard I try, I don't like beer. Maybe its because I'm not much of one for crowds or getting pushed around in mob-mentality ridden festivals. Maybe its because I still cannnot suscribe to the general objectification of women that reaches a whole new extreme when you add revealing versions of traditional German dress and drunk men together (although the objectification definately goes both ways, plenty of women are guilty of it, too). Or maybe I just got bored by noon of the whole scene or maybe I was just too exhausted from being undercaffeinated and having not slept very well on a bus and waking up way too early.
Around two in the afternoon, we left the festival to try and explore what of Munich was in walking-distance from Oktoberfest. Soon after exiting the festival, we saw a Starbucks cup sitting on a trash and went into a hotel to ask where the nearest one was. Strange that we would be so desperate to find an American coffee change admist a celebration of German culture, right? All I wanted was a strong cup of coffee and the familiar interior decorating that is identical to most other Starbucks. I never thought I would find so much comfort in Pike's Place roast and the signature wall paper. We rested in this American setting for a little while, gathering our strength and developing a game plan, soaking up the setting. I'm not sure if this trip to Starbucks calmed down my underlying homesickness or caused it to spike up. But I never thought I would be so happy to find a Starbucks. I guess you have to understand that coffee culture is so different in Italy that I doubt there is even a Starbucks in this entire country. I have yet to see one in Milan and Milan is basically the NYC of Italy. Here in Italy, you walk up to the bar and down your espresso shot and drink your morning cappucino with a brioche in your other hand while still standing at the bar. The giant, complicated drinks in to-go cups that we cherish in America do not seem to exist in Italy.
After Starbucks, we walked up and down what turned out to be a major shopping street in Munich. We saw a couple giant old buildings that are probably churches of some kind with gothic architecture. We went into the craziest department store that had a "Havana Bar" in their coats section. They were selling cocktails for 2,50 and had salsa dancers twirling in the aisles. It was the craziest thing ever. We even tried on drindles (picture below). We found the oldest brewery in Germany: Hofbrauhaus. We got dinner at a cheap, middle-eastern place and around 9 headed back to Oktoberfest. Exploring Munich was way more fun than the actual festival and I'm glad that we got a chance to do that, especially since I had never been to Germany before. In the back of my head, though, I couldn't stop thinking about how I was walking on land that Jews, my own family members, were forbidden from walking on just a little more than 60 years ago. It was so strange to think about the history of Germany, how most of where I was walking had probably been bombed out. I wondered what it would mean to German Jews of the 30's to know that Jews now walked on and lived in the very country that had murdered them. It was just strange remembering that every now and then throughout the day. I consciously made sure not to tell anyone that I was Jewish. I didn't know what kind of reaction I would get.
After returning to the festival, we walked around some more and found another tent to sit down near. We made some German and Dutch friends and around 11 we left to go back to our bus. The bus took the group of us to a hotel just 45 minutes outside the city. We left the next morning around 10:15 and, although it was a long day on the bus, since it was actually daytime for the drive we got to see the Alps. So beautiful. So many rivers and creeks run beside them. At one point I looked out the window and saw a hardcore, decked out biker speeding along on a bike path and I thought about all the biking through Europe my family used to do. So now I am back in Milan catching up on class readings and generally trying to gear up for a week of classes.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Pictures from Aosta (no these are not photoshopped)
victorious! we hiked down the mountain and through the alps! we did it!
Soccer Game and the Aosta Valley
This past week was our last week of intensive Italian and, no kidding, IES upped the intensity. Instead of 2.5 hours of Italian every morning, we had three hours to make up for the time we missed not having class Friday morning. Tomorrow the rest of our classes start and we have Italian for one hour twice a week and three hours once a week. The big bummer, though, is that on Mondays I will not only have Italian from 9-10 in the morning, I will then have two art history classes and my history of Italian theater straight from 1:30 until 7:30. I'm not sure how its going to go tomorrow.
Last week I got to go to a soccer game. Milan actually has two soccer teams kind of like how my beloved Chicago has two baseball teams with vicious rivalries. The two teams are InterMilan and ACMilan. We saw InterMilan vs. Bari (another city in the south of Italy) and InterMilan won 4-0!!! Two of those goals were penalty shots. We actually left before the last goal was scored because we wanted to leave before the crowds since we had a test the next morning. It was so much fun, though. They had people selling soda, ice cream, bottles of whiskey, and other snacks in the aisles like they do in the states. There is also a 10 euro price difference between a man's ticket and woman's ticket. Strange. It was so loud and there was so much cheering and people wearing the color of their team. At one point in the stands across from us, some people started some sort of bonfire or something. That was a little scary. I loved watching the game. It made me miss playing soooo much. I kept trying to figure out/track their formations and patterns. I hope I can go to another game again soon.
Friday morning we left for our trip to the Aosta Valley that IES planned. First we stopped at this fort with a really strange museum full of all sorts of things that didn't really seem relevant. It was a history/crystal/natural science/all sorts of randomness that we basically weaved through trying to find our way out. Then we climbed down the fort and took lots of beautiful pictures. We were surrounded by beautiful mountains and the air was so much easier to breathe, despite its thinness, than the air here in Milan (the pacing/atmosphere of Milan is akin to Chicago or NYC). After that we went to a ridiculously priced lunch that offered deer meat for the meat-eaters and cheese and french fries for me and my fellow vegetarians. Then we continued on to Aosta where we checked into our hotel and wandered around. Aosta is a very, very small town that was built before Christ by the Romans because it was one of the few spots that wasn't a mountain. So its a very, very old town with Roman ruins and awesome spots like this. Now, however, it has many shops which I was not expecting and I am convinced that Italy is just all about shopping. Oh my. The weather on Friday was rainy, gray, and misty. Think Tacoma in November. And then there was a torrential downpour where we huddled under a huge building with covering until it calmed down enough for us to book back to the hotel. That night, after another suspicious meal at the hotel, we went to this restraunt that sometimes has live jazz. We were there on the wrong night, however, and so we just chilled there to pick up what Aosta at night is like.
The next day, Saturday, we got up too early for another disappointing tour where I learned about the Romans and Aosta. The tour was twice as long as usual because our tour guide spoke italian and one of the RAs translated it into English. So everything was said twice. And it was chilly. And was not fully caffeinenated. Finally we peaced out and found some falafel. After a three hour nap that afternoon, we wandered through the town again, searching for something we hadn't seen the previous day, but mainly just going on a gelato+pastry sugar binge, balanced out with some espresso. The mountains were beautiful, the day was much less gray and it had warmed up. The air was so clean, so easy to breathe. The streets and sidewalk are one and the same so you never really know if you're standing in the middle of street or not. We walked by roman ruins, ancient arches, crucifixes and post card stands. We didn't even buy any clothes. After dinner on Saturday night there was a free concert with a small photography gallery that we went to. It was cool to see what the locals do on the weekend, the ski bums of Aosta. We didn't stay too long, however, because the music wasn't totally our thing and we had an early morning. It was still really fun, nevertheless.
Sunday was by far the most amazing day of the trip. We got up early, checked out of the hotel, and were bussed up to Monte Blanche. This is a mountain advertised as the 8th wonder of the world. Its in the alps, obviously, and we took a gondola up to the top of it. Its on the French/Italian border so we country hopped with no passport. It was so great. I can officially say I've been to France during this trip, even if it was only the French part of a snowy, snowy mountain. So after nearly freezing my toes off (I thought they were going to break off into ice pieces, they were so cold) we got some coffee and hiked down the last third of the mountain. It was so beautiful, so amazing, so fresh. I could go on and on and on. I definetly fell on my bum quite a few times seeing as it was incredibly steep going downhill. I know I will be feeling it in my legs tomorrow morning. But come on. I hiked in the Alps! My life is so amazing.
After the mountain and the hike, we got a huge lunch in the neighboring town called Couremayour (sp?) that had wine glasses the size of my head. No joke. We were all starving and we stuffed our faces like there was no tomorrow. Followed up with gelato, which I eat almost everyday here. Good thing I'm walking as much as I am! After lunch we drove by Fenis Castle which was a leisurely castle back in the day. Then we drove back to Milan. Such a wonderful weekend, a once in a lifetime experience. Pictures to come and full day of classes tomorrow!
Last week I got to go to a soccer game. Milan actually has two soccer teams kind of like how my beloved Chicago has two baseball teams with vicious rivalries. The two teams are InterMilan and ACMilan. We saw InterMilan vs. Bari (another city in the south of Italy) and InterMilan won 4-0!!! Two of those goals were penalty shots. We actually left before the last goal was scored because we wanted to leave before the crowds since we had a test the next morning. It was so much fun, though. They had people selling soda, ice cream, bottles of whiskey, and other snacks in the aisles like they do in the states. There is also a 10 euro price difference between a man's ticket and woman's ticket. Strange. It was so loud and there was so much cheering and people wearing the color of their team. At one point in the stands across from us, some people started some sort of bonfire or something. That was a little scary. I loved watching the game. It made me miss playing soooo much. I kept trying to figure out/track their formations and patterns. I hope I can go to another game again soon.
Friday morning we left for our trip to the Aosta Valley that IES planned. First we stopped at this fort with a really strange museum full of all sorts of things that didn't really seem relevant. It was a history/crystal/natural science/all sorts of randomness that we basically weaved through trying to find our way out. Then we climbed down the fort and took lots of beautiful pictures. We were surrounded by beautiful mountains and the air was so much easier to breathe, despite its thinness, than the air here in Milan (the pacing/atmosphere of Milan is akin to Chicago or NYC). After that we went to a ridiculously priced lunch that offered deer meat for the meat-eaters and cheese and french fries for me and my fellow vegetarians. Then we continued on to Aosta where we checked into our hotel and wandered around. Aosta is a very, very small town that was built before Christ by the Romans because it was one of the few spots that wasn't a mountain. So its a very, very old town with Roman ruins and awesome spots like this. Now, however, it has many shops which I was not expecting and I am convinced that Italy is just all about shopping. Oh my. The weather on Friday was rainy, gray, and misty. Think Tacoma in November. And then there was a torrential downpour where we huddled under a huge building with covering until it calmed down enough for us to book back to the hotel. That night, after another suspicious meal at the hotel, we went to this restraunt that sometimes has live jazz. We were there on the wrong night, however, and so we just chilled there to pick up what Aosta at night is like.
The next day, Saturday, we got up too early for another disappointing tour where I learned about the Romans and Aosta. The tour was twice as long as usual because our tour guide spoke italian and one of the RAs translated it into English. So everything was said twice. And it was chilly. And was not fully caffeinenated. Finally we peaced out and found some falafel. After a three hour nap that afternoon, we wandered through the town again, searching for something we hadn't seen the previous day, but mainly just going on a gelato+pastry sugar binge, balanced out with some espresso. The mountains were beautiful, the day was much less gray and it had warmed up. The air was so clean, so easy to breathe. The streets and sidewalk are one and the same so you never really know if you're standing in the middle of street or not. We walked by roman ruins, ancient arches, crucifixes and post card stands. We didn't even buy any clothes. After dinner on Saturday night there was a free concert with a small photography gallery that we went to. It was cool to see what the locals do on the weekend, the ski bums of Aosta. We didn't stay too long, however, because the music wasn't totally our thing and we had an early morning. It was still really fun, nevertheless.
Sunday was by far the most amazing day of the trip. We got up early, checked out of the hotel, and were bussed up to Monte Blanche. This is a mountain advertised as the 8th wonder of the world. Its in the alps, obviously, and we took a gondola up to the top of it. Its on the French/Italian border so we country hopped with no passport. It was so great. I can officially say I've been to France during this trip, even if it was only the French part of a snowy, snowy mountain. So after nearly freezing my toes off (I thought they were going to break off into ice pieces, they were so cold) we got some coffee and hiked down the last third of the mountain. It was so beautiful, so amazing, so fresh. I could go on and on and on. I definetly fell on my bum quite a few times seeing as it was incredibly steep going downhill. I know I will be feeling it in my legs tomorrow morning. But come on. I hiked in the Alps! My life is so amazing.
After the mountain and the hike, we got a huge lunch in the neighboring town called Couremayour (sp?) that had wine glasses the size of my head. No joke. We were all starving and we stuffed our faces like there was no tomorrow. Followed up with gelato, which I eat almost everyday here. Good thing I'm walking as much as I am! After lunch we drove by Fenis Castle which was a leisurely castle back in the day. Then we drove back to Milan. Such a wonderful weekend, a once in a lifetime experience. Pictures to come and full day of classes tomorrow!
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