Rugby Tartar

Cultural differences can be so enlightening. And I’m not talking about Italian ones this time. Yesterday the French (three good friends of mine in the Erasmus program) made me “beef tartar”. Being the foodie that I am, I was very excited to try something new, different and, well, FRENCH. However, yours truly did not realize that “tartar” means “raw”. At first I thought my friends were having a laugh at my sometimes gullible nature. It took a lot of convincing before I realized that they were dead serious. Not only were they serious, they were very excited about the dish because it’s apparently one of their favorites. I’ve heard that you should do something you’re afraid of everyday. I’m slightly perturbed by salmonella poisoning so I think that counts. I tried the tartar, and I didn’t hate it, but I couldn’t really wrap my head around the raw part.

After I bid my beloved French “Adieu!” I decided to run errands because I was getting ready to head to Rome. By an act of serendipitous happenstance, I ran into an Italian friend of mine who invited me to watch the Francia v. Italia Rugby match with him at a local bar. (Side Note: Ever since my sister started playing Rugby at our University, I can’t get enough of it. It’s the perfect combination of soccer, American football, “playful” aggression and tackling. What do you think my answer was??). It turns out that I was one of three women at the bar enjoying the game. Not only did I enjoy it but I was yelling and screaming along with every other slightly intoxicated Italian in there. My shouts of “GO! GO! GO!” and “Move your ass!” were harmoniously accompanied by “Giù! Giù! Giù!”, “Vai! Vai! Vai!” and the occasional “MERDA!”. Needless to say, we (that is the Italians) won. It was the perfect ending to a very emotionally RAW day.

Words of the day: "Vai" meaning "Go", "Giù" meaning "Down" (Side note: when you are screaming your head off during a rugby match, it is not uncommon to shout "DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!". This could be interpreted in numerous ways, like: to take someone "down" or to get "down" by using your freaking legs), and "Merda!" meaning "Oh, darn!" (rated PG).

Pace, Amore e Vittoria,

Geni

Corsi

Isn’t it funny how the stereotypical image of a professor is kind of universal? Corduroy blazer, messy unkempt hair, glasses and a bright orange tie…that’s my professor. Well, at least he’s ONE of my professors. So far only one of my classes has begun and that’s “Storia della musica moderna e contemporanea”. Translation : History of modern and contemporary music. I understand about 60% of every lecture and that’s not just because my Italian leaves something to be desired. This isn’t a regular history of music class. Somehow, this class was turned into a look behind the PHILOSOPHY of the history of music. If this concept doesn’t make sense to you, don’t worry because I don’t understand it either. I’m a musician, and I know a lot more about music that your average ragazza (trust me, it’s in my blood) but for some reason, this class is making my head loopy. Luckily, after introducing myself to the prof on the first day, I get to take my final exam in English. He said that he doesn’t care what language I write in, as long as I understand the concepts. Buona fortuna with that one, Geni.

Aside from the topic, the classroom atmosphere is pretty familiar. Students chatting with their friends, sending text messages and waiting for class to begin. A few things are a little different than in the States, however. Instead of gargantuan starbucks mugs in everyone’s hand, students have tiny, baby sized plastic cups from the espresso machine that sits in every hallway on every floor. No one uses laptops in class either. It’s old school pen and paper in Verona. Also, the class doesn’t start on time. Not because the students are late but because the professor walks in five to ten minutes past the scheduled “official” time. He then takes the next ten minutes to set up his equipment, ruffle his papers, straighten his tie and clear his throat. I don’t think I’ve ever heard one person say the word “Allora” so many times within the span of an hour and forty minutes.

Words/Phrases of the day: “ragazza” meaning “girl/lady/young woman”, “buona fortuna” meaning “good luck”, “allora” meaning “then/next/okay/moving on” (it’s a bit of a filler word” and “Mandami un SMS” meaning “Send me a text!”

Pace, Amore e Espresso Machines,

Geni