Show Me the Sidestreets in Your Life

This past weekend was, in a word, incredible. As far as hastily planned trips go, my mini-vacation to Trapani, Sicily was a success on nearly every level. Laura and I managed to snag a beautiful hostel right on the coast for only 30 dollars a night, and the owner was a charming woman named Alessandra. She greeted us with Marsala wine and some local pastries (anyone who introduces herself by giving me a glass of wine and a donut instantly reaches a level of sainthood in my book) and proceeded to map out everything that there was to see in Trapani. After assuring her that there was no way that we were going to rent a car, she gave us advice on places to go to on foot. After showing us where she kept the complimentary snacks, she let us pick out our room (we were the first guests to arrive, and the only non-married couple, so we snatched the room with two beds). After proceeding to geek out for 15 minutes over the sheer awesomeness of our current situation, we collapsed into exhausted yet happy heaps onto our beds and fell asleep.


The next two and a half days were amazing. We spent most of our time in Trapani itself, navigating its winding streets and avoiding getting our feet ran over by the cars that insisted on weaving their way through the already cramped space. Our first day we walked the entire length of the old city walls, going to lookout points that offered impossibly beautiful panoramas of the city and the water. I've come to the conclusion that the color blue back home has nothing on blue in Italy (see above picture). I've never seen such a brilliant sky, or such a beautiful sea. All we could do was stand there and stare. Which, of course, incited the entire population of Trapani to so the same thing. I don't know much about the tourism industry in Sicily, but the locals stared at us like we were the first non-Italian people they had seen in months, if not ever. We would walk into restaurants and the waiters would look genuinely surprised to see us. It made for excellent service. But the best part was walking down the road lining the beach, where people would literally slow down in their cars and watch us pass. Awkward? Yes. Especially seeing as we were unshowered, unkempt, and an unimpressive pair of individuals in general. But apparently traffic-stopping fascinating. Oh well. I'll take it.


The other major highlights included sneaking into what I'm pretty sure was supposed to be an off-limits ruin of... something. But after watching a few other people check it out, Laura and I snuck through a gap in the fence and explored. It was kind of eerie because we were so far away from the sounds coming from the road, and all we could hear were the seagulls and the noise of the waves crashing into the rocks. We just wandered around and took pictures, hoping that no crazy old Italian fishermen would come after us for trespassing.




But the highlight of the trip was easily our trip to Erice, at the top of a nearby mountain. The cable car to the top wasn't running because it was winter (60 degrees and not a cloud in the sky? These people should see a Wisconsin winter.), so we took a bus to the top. I kept having nasty visions of the bus taking a mistimed turn and careening off the edge of the mountain into the sea, but we managed to make it to the top in once piece. The view was spectacular. We were fortunate enough to have a clear day, which usually only happens during the summer months. Apparently, we could see all the way to Tunisia. Epic? I think yes.


So Laura and I spent a few hours wandering around the medieval town, checking out the castle ruins, taking pictures with 600-foot drops, and befriending the local wildlife. Unfortunately, we weren't quite prepared for the sudden and violent drop in temperature, and we ended up taking refuge in the entryway of a local church. Listening to the mass being said in Italian was strangely comforting. We spent about half an hour directing latecomers to the correct door ("No, no, QUESTA porta!") until we finally made our way back through the biting cold to the bus stop. Then, we proceeded to sit in growing fear that our bus would not show up, constructing hypothetical circumstances that involved us stranded at the top of a mountain in Sicily without our hostel owner's phone number and with poorly-thought out clothing choices. Thankfully, the bus did in fact arrive, and we made fast friends with the bus driver. After arriving back in Trapani, we had a second dinner and called it a weekend. Best life decision ever.


So the moral of the story? Sicily is epic.


And because this post isn't long enough as is, here are some fun "by the numbers" for you all:

85: Amount paid in Euros for taxi fares to and from the airport
60: Amount that should have been paid for said taxi fares
10: Hours of sleep we got the first night
60: Average temperature during the weekend
A lot: distance we walked during our three days
5: Meals we had on Saturday
3: Number of those meals that were composed entirely of pastries
98%: Percentage of local teenagers that were dressed like emos
Everyone: Amount of local Sicilians that stared at us like we were the only tourists within a 60-mile radius
0: Number of other tourists within a 60-mile radius
8/9: Times that the locals understood where Minneapolis was
0/9: Times that the locals understood where Nebraska was
2: Number of times that people thought we were British
1: Number of times that people thought we were German
90: Minutes it took us to find a gelateria
2: Times we frequented said gelateria in a 6-hour time period
1: Number of pigeon turf wars we incited
8:00 pm: Time when all the stores closed during the weekend (Really?)
As big as your face: Size of the local authentic Sicilian cannoli
2,50: Amount in Euros paid for said cannoli. My life is now complete.

The Week in Review

There is absolutely nothing wrong with pre-gaming dinner with cannoli... and then going out for gelato afterwards. Italian men dig Wisconsin/Minnesota accents; that being said, Italian men need to find something better to do with their lives. Hour-long, class-wide arguments in Philosophy are the best. I miss Brett Favre. RyanAir charges way too much for booking fees. Sunny days in Rome are beautiful. There's something magical about sleeping more than 5 hours a night. Deacons are amazing, especially when they remind you of Matt Merten. Everyone needs to go to the Jewish ghetto. Time is moving way too fast here, yet in some ways not fast enough. European churches are far superior to their American counterparts. Italian elevators are terrifying. "Angels and Demons" is a much better film when you realize that you're been to 2/3 of the locations and even recognize restaurants in the background. I will never be able to eat ice cream again. Going to the pub at 8 pm on a Monday has its benefits, and those benefits are trivia night and giant plates of nachos. Always build with high-quality marble. I miss my roommates.


Oh yea... and I'm leaving for Sicily today. Enjoy your crappy weather, everyone. I'm going to the beach.

Pardon the Interruption

I MISS BAILEY DOLSON.
She completes me, and I apologize for not making my sentiments known in an earlier post.

I also greatly miss this person. Her name is Natalie Schroeder. She completes me in ways that only a fellow short, blonde, awesome person named Natalie can. Caution: high school pic!

Happiness

So it appears that I am finished with my second week of classes... oh wait. No I'm not. Instead of having a gloriously free Friday for sleeping in and sightseeing, I will be stuck in class again, pretending that it is Monday class day. I find this distressing on many levels. I don't care whether you're in South Bend or Sheboygan or Rome, anytime that someone tells you to pretend that a Friday is a Monday is cause for mourning and much gnashing of teeth.

Now that I've got that rant out of my system, on to a list of things that make me happy to be in Rome:

1. The fact that my philosophy professor seems just as wonderfully bewildered by what we are studying as the rest of us. I'm pretty sure that this might pose a problem in the long run, but for now it's strangely comforting.
2. The fact that it takes us 15 minutes to decide where to go for gelato because every gelateria is amazing. We almost just made a grand tour tonight, but we'll save that for another day.


3. Speaking of stores, the 'saldi' may be my new favorite Italian word. In Italy, all the stores have huge sales (we're talking upwards of 60% off here) at the end of the season so they can clear out their stock and make room for the new spring clothes. Best thing ever? I think yes.
4. The fact that Italian men, in general, leave me alone. I was told that because I was blonde, I would be heckled mercilessly. But so far it's been fairly quiet, and it's fantastic. I'm far too awkard of an individual to deal with that. Now if only the umbrella people would pay me the same courtesy...
5. Walking out the front door of my hotel at 7:45 in the morning, and realizing that I'm still in Rome. Still gets me every time.
6. These lollipops:


7. Having my Yahoo home page stuck in Italian. At first, it bothered me because I wanted to be able to more easily stalk all the illegal shenanigans that go down in Sheboygan. But now I love it. Italian news is fantastic, and it's not just about how President Obama went bowling or got a haircut (OMG stop the presses!!) or how Brangelina are about to adopt their umpteenth child (seriously, those people collect children the way some people collect coins). For example, the other day I read an article about how one of Italy's representatives (I think) showed up to the cabinet meeting (or whatnot) drunk. They also posted a video of it. Glorious. You just don't get that kind of quality news coverage stateside.
8. Seeing Italian men check themselves out in store windows. I've seen American guys try to do this discreetly, but it's not nearly as amusing as seeing a full-grown man fixing his hair in front of a store for upwards of 30 seconds.
9. One word: cannoli.
10. My Christian Moral Theology Professor, who is quite possibly the most fascinating person I have ever met. His name is Mark Attard, and he even shows up on the Google image search. Amazing! He is a member of the Carmelite order (for you Lutheran people out there, a Catholic religious order), and it appears that he is kind of a big deal. I've also heard that he knows the Pope. As in, he was chummy with him. Before he was even Pope. It's just all so Catholic, and I love it. He knew all of our names even before class started, and when someone sneezes in class, he will stop whatever he is doing, look you in the eye, and say "God bless you" in a way that is so sincere that it's basically like having God Himself saying it. I try to sneeze as much as possible.
11. The fact that I finally have a hair straightener. I've been having to go the "natural" way for the past week and a half, and saying that I looked like a poodle with a bad perm is a fairly accurate description. Laura and I are very excited about our "ceramic slab for hair," as the translation on the box so poetically described it.


12. The Trevi Fountain at night. It's easily one of the most beautiful things I've seen here. Apparently people stage these epic wedding proposals there all the time, including illegal ones in the fountain itself. Nothing says "I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you" like a trip to an Italian prison. Also, the Trevi is conveniently next to one of the most amazing gelaterias in Rome. Score.

Giant Rocks

This semester, one of the thirteen credits I'm taking (strenuous, I know) is for a class called "Lectures and Tours." It is a mandatory class that involves - you guessed it - lectures and tours. For the first couple weekends, we go around Rome and tour various historic sights, accompanied by professors who act as our tour guides. This weekend, I toured the Roman and Imperial Forums, as well as the Palatine hill, the Capitoline hill and museum, and the Coliseum. Despite the fact that I had to wake up at 9 am and walked approx. the distance from Sheboygan to Rome, I was completely blown away by what I saw. Looking at pictures of the ruins in a textbook is one thing - actually standing in front of places like the Coliseum is simply surreal. You can almost feel the history in every single stone. Even the cobblestones in the road of the Roman Forum were the original ones... pardon my language, but HOLY CRAP. That's just insane. I could actually picture people like Socrates walking down the very road I was walking down, accompanied by a sudden urge to kick him in the shins for his many contributions to the giant "HUH?" better known as Philosophy. Good thing for Socrates he never was in Rome (my daydreams are usually never historically accurate). Violent tendencies towards misplaced famous historical figures aside, the experience was simply incredible. The professor in charge of my tour was fantastic: she was Dutch, but studied and lived in London, so she has a crazy limey accent that made everything she said sound 10x more intelligent and 100x more awesome. She went on and on about how the Vatican pretty much ruined Rome; most of the buildings were once coated in marble, but eventually the Church decided that the marble would look nice in a church. So down went the marble on all of the ruins, and up went the Vatican. At least, that's what how my professor made it seem. She didn't seem to have a lot of love for how the ruins had been treated. I guess that's what happens when you study history you're whole life.

Saturday began full of sunshine and the promise of a beautiful day, but as soon as we set off for the Coliseum it started raining. It's not so much the rain that bothers me, it's the meddlesome umbrella vendors. They lurk everywhere, just waiting for it to start raining so they can mob people trying to cross the street, shoving an armful of umbrellas in your face and yelling in undecipherable Italian. And if you think you're safe from them if you have an umbrella, you're wrong. I made the mistake of forgetting my umbrella for the Coliseum, and I was followed by a small pack of umbrella vendors for the entire 2-mile hike back to the hotel. They wouldn't back off, even though I was clearly soaking wet and annoyed. Joyous.


Anyways, the Coliseum was simply amazing. Pictures can't do it justice, words can't do it justice; heck, even being there couldn't really do it justice. There it sits, right of a busy thoroughfare, big and imposing and ancient as busloads of people pass by. Talk about a clash of time periods. The thing that I find particularly fascinating about the Coliseum is how every day, busloads of people come to see it, admire the architecture, take cute pictures in front of it, and just admire the general splendor of it all. But then you remember that half a million people met horrible, grisly ends there, as well as nearly a million animals (Side note: they imported ostriches to the Coliseum - OSTRICHES. Incredible.), and you kind of begin to see the irony of it all. On the ground level, there is a big metal cross dedicated to the people who died while 50,000 people looked on. Doesn't seem to be quite enough, in my opinion. Oh well.

After this weekend, it looks like I'll learn more in this one-credit class than I learned in my four-credit biology course last semester. Mandatory pig dissections and memorizing the steps of meiosis vs. seeing wonders of the ancient world... hmm. I think the winner is fairly obvious here.

Learning is fun!

I've finally finished my first week of classes here in Rome... thankfully, we don't have school on Friday, leaving more time for travels and exploring. It's been kind of hard adjusting to the hour and a half-long classes, and don't get me started on the fact that I have an 8:00 am class three days a week. But, as a friend reminded me, it's called "study abroad" for a reason, so study I must.

Despite the periodic interruptions of class, my time here has already been incredible. Rome is nothing like I imagined, and overwhelming on pretty much every level possible. But after one or two emotionally shaky days, I found myself able to really take stock of where I was. I've learned a lot about Italian life in these past few days, and even though they may seem random and obvious (actually, they are), my mom has been harassing me about posting, so I'll share my "wisdom."

1. Rome is huge/busy/full of people.
- Obvious observation number one. But I feel justified in the fact that there is no possible way to prepare a girl who has spent her entire life in the Midwest for the fast-paced life of Rome.

2. Italians speak Italian.
- Obvious observation number two. Before I left, my sister asked me if I was prepared for the fact that, when I landed in Rome, everyone would be speaking Italian. I wasn't. The first two days were positively terrifying as I realized that in order for me to eat, I would need to actually communicate with people. But I love catching snippits of people's conversations as I pass them on the street, I love being able to "order" food on my own in a foreign language, and I love the fact that 98% of the people I encounter are patient beyond reasonable belief with me (we won't talk about the other 2%).

Now for the random stuff:

3. Italians LOVE their dogs. They go everywhere with them. To stores, restaurants, bathrooms, bars, pretty much anywhere possible.
4. The hairdryers in look like vacuum cleaners. Maybe this is only true for our hotel, but it makes my morning routine much more amusing.
5. I have never walked so much in my life. But with places like the Vatican, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, and multiple piazzas within reasonable walking distances (plus everything there is to stumble upon in between), it's isn't uncommon for me to go on hikes two or three times a day. Which is good, because...
6. I have never eaten so much in my life. Okay, that might be an exaggeration. But the food is easily the best I've ever had (a million apologies, Mom). Everything just seems to be bursting with flavor. Even the bread and the coffee send me into fits of happiness. Sometimes, the food is so fantastic, all I can do is sit there and stare at it for a bit. This has happened quite a bit.
7. Gelato is, without a doubt, the most amazing thing ever conceived by man. I really don't understand why other countries aren't getting on this. Then again, it's probably a good thing. I may never be able to eat ice cream again.
8. In Rome, pedestrians never have the right of way. Red lights are also optional.
8a. The only exception to this: nuns.
8b. The fact that nuns are everywhere makes me unimaginably happy.
9. Cobblestones are the worst idea ever for paving a city. I know that Rome is ancient and all that, but seriously. Those things are a death trap. I see Italian women strut down the street in heels without faceplanting, whereas I struggle in flats. Sometimes, the gaps between the stones are so big you could fall in. You can always tell the real Italians from the tourists based on how many times they trip walking down the street.
10. People drive down these tiny side streets all the time, crawling along in their Audi's and BMW's, always about to run someone over. I've had cars stop within inches of my shins. It's also amazing to see people just walking in the middle of the street, scooting aside only begrudgingly to make room for a bus or ambulance, leaving about 2 inches of clearance without flinching. Insanity.

The only thing that makes me angry/sad/depressed is the fact that Italian women have warmly embraced the travesty that is "leggings as pants." Here I am, at the epicenter of fashion, and this is what people spend their money on. Disgusting.

1 Day

I think this is pretty self-explanatory.