Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Italians are never on time. I repeat… NEVER on time. As you have probably noticed I have been learning many things about the wonderful Italian culture and this is one of them. What is also interesting to note is that once you are brought into the Italian culture you’re not really on time for anything either. J I have decided that things that used to bother me all the time are really no longer a problem. My grandmother used to say, “Don’t sweat the small stuff” and it used to drive me crazy, ironically. However, being here has really made me realize that those small little things DON’T actually matter. Yes, you want to be on time for an interview and probably your sister’s wedding but if you’re a few minutes late to a group lunch don’t kill yourself trying to get there because most likely no one else will be there on time.

Orientation week was quite a success. I have met people from Brazil, France, Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany, Scotland, England, Portugal, Romania, Poland and more countries that I can’t even remember right now. I have managed to speak to almost everyone in my study abroad class (called ERASMUS here) at least once. I can’t necessarily remember everyone’s names but I’ve made a point to know faces. Some of my newfound friends have been quite impressed with my social butterfly abilities and apparently I’m giving them quite the positive impression of Americans. Thank the Lord! Somebody had to!

Classes for my “major” here don’t start until February 28, so I have the week to continue meeting people, discover my routine and maybe take a trip to somewhere like Bologna or Siena. In Italian fashion, class times and places haven’t been listed online for my courses but am I worried? Absolutely not.

Words/Phrases of the day: “bisogno” meaning “need”, “Ho visuto” meaning “ I lived” and “Quello che mi hanno detto” meaning “That’s what I’ve been told” or “That’s what they told me”.

Peace, Love and ERASMUS,

Geni

The City of Romeo and Juliet

So much has been going on over the past few days that I’ve barely had time to pee, let alone write in my travel blog.

Needless to say, I’m in Verona. I moved into my apartment on Saturday and discovered that I’m not actually living with other international students but with three native Italians. I’ve been mumbling and fumbling over my words ever since but I’m confident that with practice, and remembering the many corrections I’m being given, I’ll eventually learn this danged language. The apartment itself is rather large with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a general living area and a kitchenette. One of my favorite things to do has been to go to the local “fruttivendolo” and pick out FRESH fruits and vegetables for my kitchen creations. I’m still eating like a queen, even though I’m cooking for myself.

Verona is smaller than Rome but bigger than some of the petite Italian towns like Pesaro or Terni. It’s filled with cobblestone streets and all the buildings look pretty old. From a high lookout point (which is quite a hike up some old-school, stone steps) Verona looks like a mini Florence with three tall “duomi”. You can see the river Adige curve around the walled-in parts of the city and it looks like it popped out of a storybook…which I guess it kind of did. Since it’s not tourist season yet, native Italians and students are out in full force. If you walk just outside of one of the main piazzas (there are two: Piazza Erbe and Piazza Bra) you can see college peeps sitting in cafes/bars with BRIGHT ORANGE drinks. This drink is the local specialty and is called “Uno Spritz”. It’s made with compari, proseco, and some kind of mix that gives it it’s neon glow. Most times they’ll also put a slice of blood orange on the side of the glass. È meraviglioso!

Words of the day: “fruttivendolo” meaning “fruit vendor”, “duomo” meaning “tower”, and “meraviglioso” meaning “marvelous” or “wonderful”

Pace, Amore e Spritz,

Geni

Che ora sono?

Everyone in Italy wears Timberlands. I kid you not. Men, women, children…everyone. I even saw a baby with tiny, oompa loompa sized timberlands. I don’t think he was even at the age to walk but that didn’t seem to matter. I have no idea what the fascination is but they wear them anyway. Along with their love of industrial sized footwear, 9 out of 10 Italians have a dog. Big ones, small ones, fat ones, thin ones, all colors and breeds. I was attacked with puppy kisses by a golden retriever puppy yesterday and today I passed a pug, a golden, some labs and a lot of breeds I can’t even name. Not only do Italians love sex, food and wine but they LOVE dogs. Who knew?

After Rome, my dad (who is accompanying me until I get set up in Verona) and I went to visit a cousin in Terni. Terni is a beautiful little town in the Provence of Umbria and is so much calmer than Rome. I pride myself on being able to enjoy the hustle and bustle of a fast paced city like New York but every time I stepped out in Rome, I thought I was going to have a hernia. It’s gotten more crowded since I’ve been there last and everyone seems to be pretty cranky. It’s not your usual Italian laid-back-ness. It was frustration, “agida” and a whole lot of crazy. Anyway, Terni was a nice change. Dad and I took a long “passegiata” around town and were pleasantly surprised at how many families were outside enjoying the fresh air and each other’s company. We need more parks in the states and less TV’s. Don’t get me wrong, I love watching the most recent episode of GLEE or House as much as the next person but I wouldn’t mind more community parks where old men can play bocce ball and little kids can play. Our cousin, Anna, whom we were visiting, is probably one of the greatest cooks this world has ever known. However, I had to sing for my supper, so to speak. I was not allowed to speak English, only Italian. NO EXCUSES.

After a lovely visit in Terni we were on our way to Pesaro, a seaside town off of the Adriatic, to visit more cousins. Being the well-prepared person that I am, I packed far too much and the bags we had were HEAVY. I mean so heavy that I have some gargantuan biceps going on right now. Though I digress. Pesaro is really small compared to other places I’ve been. Last night our train got in around nine o’clock and the town was dead silent and covered in fog. It reminded me of one of those fables you hear as kids (or a bad slasher film, your pick). Dad and I took another “passegiata” this morning in order to work off all of the marvelous food we’ve been eating and to see the sights in the daytime. The houses here are gorgeous and the central piazza was filled with happy, cheery people going about their routines. People were actually taking time to stop and talk to one another instead of speeding off. It was great to see people interacting like that and the old men sitting around the square shooting the breeze just made me smile.

Words of the day: “passegiata” meaning “a stroll”, “nebbia” meaning “fog” and “rifiuti” meaning “garbage”.

Pace, Amore e Timberlands,

Geni

Quando tu sei a Roma

Well, I made it! I woke up this morning with the Roman sun shining on my face. I walked into the kitchen, poured myself a cup of blood orange juice and threw a bit of Parma ham on some good, crusty Italian bread and reveled in the beaming rays of happiness. Aaaaaah…this is the life. I had the most random song stuck in my head, Castle on a Cloud from Les Miserables, which seemed counter intuitive to the WONDERFUL feelings I was having. What was incredibly funny, though, was that my brain was playing the lyrics in ITALIAN and instead of “cloud” it was saying “boat”. “C’è un castello sul un barco. Mi piace andarlì quando io dormo…” I guess I don’t even unconsciously know the Italian word for “cloud”. Therefore the word of the day (thanks to Berlitz compact dictionary) is “nuvola” meaning “cloud”. Other words of the day include: “barca”, “castello” and “andare” meaning, “boat”, “castle” and “to go”. Learn a little Italian everyday with me, Signorina Flagello.

Later today we’ll be taking a train to Terni to visit some family. After Terni we’ll be on our way to Pesaro (more family) and then finally to my final destination (at least for the time being): Verona!!

I think it’s finally starting to sink in that: 1. I’m gonna be here for a while and 2. We’re not in Kansas anymore. Which is totally fine considering my Italian is significantly better than I gave myself credit for. But I still have a long way to go. It feels as if the Italians are speaking at the speed of light and my lips are moving at the speed of a 150-year-old tortoise on depressants. Oh well, I’ll catch up eventually. I’ve got six months!

Pace, Amore e Nuvole (plural of nuvola),

Geni

Fellini

"While going to Germany or the Netherlands would have been much more organized, studying abroad in Italy will be like living in a Fellini movie" - My Dad

So far, it seems as if he may be right. I've been running around in circles, like a chicken who has not only lost her head but her sanity, for the past few weeks: "How many suitcases do I pack?", "Will I have somewhere to live?", "I need more shoes", "Seriously will I have somewhere to live?", "Ooooh, I should get one of those neck pillows for the plane", and "OMG WHERE AM I GOING TO LIIIIIIVE????".

After weeks of torment and frustration I can finally relax and be excited about the fact that I am, indeed, going to be gallivanting in a foreign country for 6 months. This fact has only sunk it about half way and I'm sure I'll blog about the mini spaz attack I have when it finally sinks in 100%. This is something that I never knew that I always wanted to do... live abroad, ON MY OWN. I did it as a kid for about 5 years but I was with my family and things are very different when you're not exactly responsible for yourself. Now I am and I'm going to take Italia by storm. Maybe not ALL of Italia but at least a pizzeria here and a gelateria there. Something will get rained on.

I leave tomorrow :)

Peace, Love and a 5am Wake Up Call,

Geni