Pulling out the Wall Socket: Where are You, Inner Peace?!

      Vatican City on a Sunday in September... might as well be Christmas Eve at the best mall in town. There's ridiculous long lines, there's millions of people inspecting the merchandise... and that's where my analogy ends.

      Because unlike crowded department stores, St. Peter's is worth the crowd of admirers. You come inside and your jaw drops. I've been there before, and I still drooled a bit.

      But then the negatives come... it's sweaty, there's too many people, not enough space, too much noise, not enough thoughtful silence... but what a feast for the eyes!

      I read online that you can go to Confession on Sundays and there are various priests with different languages available. There is a big eighth of the church roped off with a lay guard in a fancy suit. (For the record, I will marry one of you, Men who work at Vatican who aren't priests but who clearly take the parish of our Pope very seriously! RESPECT.) So handsome young Matthew/Mark/Luke/John was standing guard at this rope turning various people away who wanted to see that part of the church. Turns out, you get to go past the rope if you want to receive the Sacrament of Penance! (Or lie about it, I suppose.) I wandered around searching for the right confessional. English was WAY at the back and I had to wait a bit.

      It was so wonderful because unlike the rest of St. Peter's, it was quiet. I was small. I was alone. The church soared above me, with altars and beautiful details overwhelming me at every turn. It was cool. I had to stand there and wait to be comforted in Confession at a holy place. Instead of feeling slightly scared or nervous, I felt so peaceful. I had nothing to do but be in awe and wait. I didn't have to scurry around or worry or plan. I just had to admire the contrast between me and my Creator, as exemplified in His large Roman basilica. The basilica is beyond anything I could hope to create, examine in detail or replicate. I don't feel worthless, I feel sheltered. I don't have to do any of those things. I just have to see my limited role and accept it in the way this world will work. My concerns, my worries, my anxieties... they will all disappear one day. Not because I will solve my problems but they will be taken away from me. How liberated I felt in that moment!

      People keep telling me how they wish they lived in Italy too and how lucky I am. I feel ridiculous when people say that to me... because honestly, I'd love to go home. Besides some really great people I've met, I'm ready to pack my (admittedly overweight) bags and head home. I've got some good stories, mostly ones that I would hate to re-live, but I'm not feeling it. My classes are boring. I dread going because two of them feel so repetitive that I sit there as I wait for it to end. My current lifestyle is overpriced and inconvenient.

      This is the part where I have to say: "I am lucky to be here. Many people would happily trade lots." But it cannot be denied that I'm not enjoying myself as I should be.

      But then I realize, if I go home... what then? Everyone will think I'm a quitter. "You got to live in Italy, how could you bear to leave?" Well, living in Italy can be such a pain in the ass. Just ask someone who has tried it. Don't watch a movie and share with me your cinematic experience. "After Diane Lane pulls out the wall socket, she falls in love with Italy and respects herself as woman even though her boyfriend turned out to be married and her plumbing sucked." 1) I did pull out a wall socket. I haven't told my landlord yet. I'm scared. 2) I respect myself as a woman probably more than Diane Lane ever has. 3) Terrible plumbing is only funny when it doesn't happen to you!

      Beyond my potential quitter status, there's the new concern: what will I do if I leave? Go to another European city? Go home? Go to a new American city? Live at Walgreens? Work at what? With my impressive resume and Liberal arts? Ye Gads. Maybe I'll stay here and be miserable.

      In times like this, I try to think back to that moment of standing in St. Peter's. The wonder, the awe, the trust, the peace... Time will only tell what I should do. Because I sure as hell don't know.

     

The Joys of Being a Lightweight at Lunchtime

SO we had our 9-13 class replaced with a museum tour here in Perugia.

Like all museum tours composed of multiple adults, it felt like 3rd grade again. People were leaving the group, our teacher was getting annoyed with us... and we ended the tour overtime, cranky and hungry.

But at the end of the very long boring tunnel there was an oasis! Our classmate Marekay (spelling? Unknown.) had a class lunch in her garden. We had some amazing pizza, wine, salad and snacks. We sat in the shady area with the sun shining warmly on our nature-starved faces. It was great because this is our last week together as a class. Here I am, getting sentimental. We all mingled and feasted. People took awkward candid photos, pretending they wanted to take a picture of the pizza table. I SAW YOU, YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PIZZAS. I also got yelled at because I hid my face when someone tried to take a picture of me eating pizza. Um, hello? Why was this man surprised when I refused to be documented in this state?

But I have to say, one and a half glasses of wine give me an excellent buzz at lunch time. The joys of being a lightweight! While everyone else is pouring glass number 3 somberly, you are giggling from your first glass. He he...

"Dancing, AFTAH DINNAH."

Oh the people you will meet… I had a very unexpected wonderful day.

So, my Italian suffers because I’m scared poopless of my Italian professor Fulvio. Fulvio is a well-pressed tan Italian man who speaks like Yul Brynner VERY LOUDLY. I can just imagine him saying “ET CETERA… DANCING, AFTA DINNAAHH.”

He asks everyone very personal questions. For example, my friend Cristoffano from Poland, I found out today that he’s a POLISH CATHOLIC PRIEST.  I found this out because he was telling my friend Judy and I that he's late for everything except church. And I was good for you, Cristoff! He said "Well, priests can't be late for Mass." You should have seen my face. Whaaaaat. Anyway, Fulvio was asking him if his life was easier than that of a lay person and if he was a “normal” man (aka asked him in front of the class if he was straight. Very offensive and Italian to many people in the class. Forehead slapper…) who regretted not having a wife…and then Fulvio asked a bunch of guys if they wanted to become priests. It was all very funny but just so inappropriate at the same time. Oh Fulvio... you would be fired back home SO FAST. 

One of my classmates told him yesterday that she was scared of him. He turned to me and said, "Louisa, are you scared of me?" My answer: "SI." He was surprised hahaha. But now that I've told him he scares me, I'm less scared of him. This is an excellent realization because it will make me talk more. 

So last night I was supposed to get an aperitivo with Dore, Judy and their friend Harold from Idaho. 

Oh, sorry, you don't know what an aperitivo is? Man, are you missing out. You go to a bar or restaurant in their casual bar area and order a drink or two. As you sip, you are supplied with free snacks, usually mini sandwiches. I'm a recent convert. Effie, Corrina, Hani, Suzanne and I met up for one the other night. Umbra students get a discount (score) at the restaurant we went to because the main waiter has some sort of working relationship with Umbra. So we all had two drinks and 3 full plates of mini sandwiches. It was delicious, filling and cheaaapppp. Everyone is like why don't we have this in America? I think the answer is obvious: Americans are shameless and would eat all the food for free without ordering more than one drink. But hey, it's a pretty unbeatable meal option.  

Back to last night... I was supposed to meet up with Dore, Judy and Harold in front of Stranieri's main building for an aperitivo. It's my new favorite meet up place because it's right below my window so it's very easy to pop over there. I showed up and they said "I hope you don't mind, but we decided to get dinner instead!" Then I had a very hysterical fit... not. We went to this great restaurant that Harold's been to before and had some great food, wine and conversation. Harold is 52 year old man from Idaho. He teaches Indian and Middle Eastern languages. He's in Italy to study Italian and he cycles everywhere during the weekend. I love Harold especially because he can quote Room with a View. Hahha. Judy is originally from New York but lives in Los Angeles with her husband and is retired. She's a really pleasant and sensible person, I'm a big fan. She laughs when I make fun of Dore so she's great fun hahah. We were such a random group! But we talked about some interesting things. Unfortunately, there was some complaining about some of our professors (well founded complaints too). 

One interesting topic of conversation was religion. Cristoff the priest came up in conversation and Dore started to rant about Catholics and how they are all brainwashed. I just looked over at him with a smile and said that I was Catholic and I don't consider myself brainwashed. His main compliant was how could religious people have such conviction and no doubts whatsoever. I kind of laughed and looked at him. I told him doubt is very much a part of religious person's life but it may manifest itself differently. I personally am convinced of my Catholic faith but I'd be a liar if I said I have never felt doubt. Mother Teresa had her dark night of the soul. I didn't want to embarrass Dore so I kept my tone light and playful: "Tell me how I truly feel, Dore, haha." The funniest part was he said "But you aren't very religious yourself, right? You don't go to church every Sunday." I laughed and said, "Yes, I'm very religious. I go to church once a week and I should go more often. Look, I'm wearing a medal. I got my degree in philosophy AND theology. I can talk about anything you want." He was so surprised. I teased him, "Oh, Dore, am I blowing your mind right now? Haha." He laughed. Judy was great. Without even providing her own religious standpoint, she calmly commented on how when someone has no religious affiliation (Dore's self-description) that it's hard to imagine a religious person experiencing doubt.  Fortunately, the conversation ended on a good note. I wasn't offended by his comments but I at the same time wanted to make my opinion and experience known.  It was a relief that my religion wasn't a deal breaker. I like talking to different kinds of people who believe different things. What's the point of talking to a clone of yourself 24/7? 

But it made me think about the image of a person of faith. I cannot tell you how many times people are surprised I'm an observant Catholic. "Oh you're Catholic? But you're not like a real Catholic, like you don't go to church every Sunday right? You do? Oh... weird." Haha. Or my other favorite: "Wow, usually I dislike religious people a lot." 

I don't mind talking about religion or "outting" myself as Catholic. In fact, I LOVE discussing religion. I've had some GREAT conversations with Hani and Suzanne about religion because we are all so chill and curious about what the other thinks. I'm sad though how people tell me about the religious Catholics they've met that they couldn't stand. Argh. 

Maybe that's why I'm here. My Italian sucks, so it might not be for the acquiring of language... 

Caught in the Rain...

You know when there's that torrential downpour in movies and, like mood music, it cues to you that one of these various things is going to happen:

1. Someone is going to die in some accident caused by the rain.
2. There's going to be a grand declaration of deep rooted passion that will be accepted. Smooches abound.
3. Plenty of pensive staring outside the window.
4.The hero/heroine will be wearing a thick weave oversized sweater that covers half of their hands while clasping a hot mug of something, (Looking pensive, of course. See #3). Contemporary coffee shop music will play. They are pensive because they and their significant other have fought and now are reflecting upon the quarrel.

Today, when I left class in my short sleeves there was pouring rain. Alas none of the aforementioned things happened. What did happen...

1. I had to walk up a hill and some flat area for 20 minutes.
2. I got visibly soaked, thank goodness I had my glasses on so I couldn't properly assess the damage.
3. I wore my sweater on my head and every street vendor harassed me. "UMBRELLA? PERCHE NO?" Even they felt sorry for me.
4. And then I got home on Facebook... and someone told me they saw me with my sweater on my head walking through the streets of Perugia.

I don't even get the dignity of anonymous shame.

Ah... and the night is young yet. Maybe more people will tell me they saw me. Perugia is pretty small. I could be known as "That Blonde Girl Who Wore a Sweater on Her Head When It Rained."

Crossing my fingers for such luck!

Pie of the Week: Humble. But At Least I have the Biebs.

Ah yes, Italy, I get it. I'm terrible at everything. Your language I butcher like it's my job. Your inhabitants I amuse with my many mistakes in stores, restaurants and doctor's offices. You know what? I HATE your crappy pharmacies. I would pay 50 bucks (or sorry, you use the Euro, so I guess that's what, 27 euro?!!) to just GO to a big Walgreens. I miss nail polish, cough drops and the general splendor of American toiletries. I miss being left alone in superstores instead of watched like a fat mouse by a eagled eyed rude saleslady in a tiny box which happens to sell things I need.

I miss you, America. Your grocery stores and pharmacies in particular. I miss how cheap you are. Don't be offended by my potentially offensive language.

I honestly don't believe people who dislike America have ever been there. It's great!!

So here I am MID-TIRADE. And I started playing "Baby" by Justin Bieber... and I feel better. Thank you, God, for the Biebs and his magical effect on my mood. Suzanne, I'm sorry I sang it to you when you probably would have preferred to listen silence. I also ate a bunch of cookies. And am drinking a beer. Things can't be that bad :D

Oh the Biebs. He makes me laugh. He's Pro-Life. Love it.

In other news, I decided to stay in B1 for the next three months... a decision that breaks my spirit. But it's a necessary evil. I have to also take a final on my birthday. Being 22 will be less awesome in that regard.

This entry lacks unity and style... but I figure some people would just appreciate an update...

Also, people, PLEASE EMAIL ME because sometimes it can get so boring and lonely over here. Yay time change. Don't forget your favorite Louisa....

#Win! Alternate Title: Partaking in an Umbrian Grape Harvest LIKE A BOSS.

I don't know why I don't live on a grape vineyard. I am A NATURAL grape picker. It's the Slovenian in me. Very diligent. Almost, dare I say German in work ethic? I was crate buddies with Effie for our harvesting experience and we were annoyed that the other Americans weren't taking the picking more seriously hahhaha. Americans have such bad reputations it almost causes me physical pain. The nonna (the mother-in-law of the farm we were at) was going over some of the vines that our group left behind because they sucked so bad haha.

How did I land in a beautiful vineyard judging the crappy grape picking of my countrymen? I'm so glad you asked, boys and girls.

I am at the Umbra Institute and University for Foreigners in Perugia. The Umbra Institute helps me with my enrollment process and classes at the University of Foreigners (we call it "Stranieri" for short, it's the Italian word for foreigners) where I go to class. Umbra gives me a tutor to meet with at their location and also coordinates my housing, occasional trips, ecc. Umbra is for North American students who want to study in Italy. They have four programs:

1. General Studies in English at their locations taught by their professors. This is the most popular program. 
2. Food Studies Program in English at their location taught by their professors. 
3. Direct Enrollment to Stranieri to study Italian Language and Culture, entirely in Italian. I'm doing that one! 
4. Direct Enrollment to University of Perugia to study in the Humanities department, entirely in Italian! Very tough to get into. You must be fluent. 

So to apply to Umbra Institute you have to apply through two different American schools. One of which is Arcadia University. I applied through Arcadia University to get into Umbra.

Why is this relevant? What happened to berry pickin'? Well, Arcadia University planned this mandatory trip to the vineyard today as a sort of orientation and introduction to their staff.

At 9:30, Suzanne and I grouchily walked to Piazza Italia in Perugia to meet our bus. Both of us have terrible chest coughs and colds. We were pissed off and wanted to go back to bed. We were SO HAPPY that we didn't.

Our bus headed to a farm which is a member of the Slow Food movement in Italy, a response to the new popularity of fast food in the 1980s. This cheerful Italian man lives with his mother in law, sister and they make wine, olive oil and their own food. They let us pick some grapes and then showed us how they crush it up (with a machine!). They let whoever wanted crush some grapes with their bare feet. I didn't do it because I didn't want to wait five hundred years.

The property was beautiful, the air was fresh and windy. You understood why these people appeared so happy. They lived in a little paradise! They then prepared a four course meal with the house wine. We had bruschettas, pasta, chicken, spinach, cookies... it was divine. We all just ooed and ahhhhed over the food. Shameless Americans. They sold us their famous olive oil for only 6 euros. So delicious. Then Suzanne asked if she could buy their wine. I'm so glad she did because we ended up having a conversation with the people that worked there. They ended up selling Suzanne a liter and a half of wine in a cleaned out water bottle for two euro. So Italian! We got a picture with an old man who worked there too. He made fun of me for taking the grape picking so seriously. After our photo, he gave Suzanne and I big kisses on the cheek. Hahhahaaaaa.

We all came back to the city refreshed, happy and full. Maybe this city girl could be convinced to move to a farm... 

Sober "Partying", Classmates and Capri!

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Yesterday, we finallllllyyy got internet in our new apartment. Of course, it’s the most terrible internet in the world. It will work for a few minutes and then shut off. Italian internet is a cruel mistress… I should have known this would happen. Italian women have the reputation of being very cold. That’s why Italian men harass women, they have low expectations. Unfortunately, they also know foreign women are stupid enough to feel too rude to ignore them.

Speaking of cold, my delightful cold from our weekend trip developed into an ear infection. I’m taking three medications, including antibiotics. Unfortunately, this means I can’t drink AT ALL. So this will continue being a completely dry week from now until next weekend.

Last night I went to 3 bars and drank tap water. I somehow didn’t get ridiculously bored until 2 am when I decided to go home. The evening started off at this great Trattoria in Perugia with Suzanne, Allad from Dubai (my and Suzanne’s male protector/sibling/peep of the year. We are already complaining everyday that he’s leaving Perugia at the end of September. It’s going to SUCK when he leaves. I could write an whole entry about Allad but I will protect his privacy haha) and Connor from Colorado who also goes to Umbra but does the General Studies program at the Institute. After dinner, we went to Dempsey’s, this American bar where this guy from Jersey works and speaks fluent Italian. He claims his story to be pretty simple: He came here for a month and never went back. I hope my Italian will be better. Right now it’s rather terrible.

Then we went to Lunabar, one of the two students bars in Perugia. Allad knows the bouncer and introduced us. We ended up chatting with him for awhile. He speaks 6 languages. Poo I hate myself. Haha! We might go to his rugby game on Sunday. Because Lunabar was slow, Allad dragged us to the other student bar, Merlin, which is not my favorite for sure. Then we went back to Lunabar for a bit before I decided to go home. Too sober to dance in an overfull bar of embarrassingly drunk people. Call me crazy ;) It was also CRAZY COLD outside. Fortunately, Suzanne and Allad are the best friends a girl can have and they walked me home! Allad has been protecting us from creepy middle eastern men all week. This worked out well because as we were leaving the club, I look out and THERE’S JALAL the guy who FOLLOWED ME HOME. So I freaked out. Allad took one look at him and said, “Wth that guy is so sketchy, he’s Egyptian too. What a creep!” Funny enough, it appeared like the bouncer didn’t want to let Jalal into Lunabar hahahha. I have no idea if he ended up doing so but whatever. So I slipped by Jalal the stalker protected by Allad and the bouncer. It sounds dramatic even though it wasn’t. Haha. I was just so grateful in that moment that I could take a picture and frame it as a big point in my life. I have no idea who will be protecting Suzanne and I when Allad leaves!

In other news, classes are going ok. I’m bored and my language skills still suck. We shall see what I do next month. I’m really going to miss my classmates though. People are from all over: Australia, Dubai, Moscow, Los Angeles, Vancouver, Germany, China, Singapore, Scotland, England, Luxemburg, Brazil, Holland, Tel Aviv, Spain, Poland, USA, ecc. It’s a really great group. I’m going to miss my classmates SO MUCH. There’s a boy from China who is studying music here and our teacher made him sing for our class. It was fantastic! Two Germans are studying Italian to pursue studies in other Italian cities, like Rome for medical school. People are either preparing for further studies or taking this class for pleasure. Unfortunately, almost all of them are leaving at the end of the month. So many characters.

So our international names drove our teachers crazy: Hershall from Vancouver is this cheerful man in his 60-70s who is here to study Italian with his wife. He is so funny and optimistic. He’s like our class mascot. Our teachers spent such a long time trying to figure out how to pronounce Hershall that it’s a class joke now. “HHHERRRSHALLLLL.” Then there’s Dore from Tel Aviv who is a grumpy young man (Don’t worry, I tell him this a lot hahahah “You’re such a GRUMP!”) who makes me laugh like a loon. The teachers read his name and say “Dough? OHHH Dorrrrre” with the “r” rolled very dramatically so I call him that now, “Dorrrrre.” He loves Slovenia so we are homies for life, I’ve decided. He speaks three other languages and served 4 years in the Israeli military so I feel pretty useless next to him. Then there’s Ja Hey (never seen it written) who our professor Fulvio tried to baptize with an Italian name. By baptize I literally mean baptize with a hand gesture. Poor Ja Hey. Fulvio is like “Mario? Marco? Francesco?” But Ja Hey stuck by his name. Good for him! 

I should probably talk about my trips to Sorrento and Capri. Capri was STUNNING. I didn’t bring my bathing suit foolishly. So, hey future husband, we are going to Capri for our honeymoon so I can guiltlessly splurge on the trip AND finally get to swim in that beautiful water.  We took a long boat tour around the whole island. Honestly, people, if you go to Capri, PROMISE me that you will go on the “Yellow” around the Island tour. Don’t just go to the famous Blue Grotto because you will be missing out. It was a beautiful day and it’s a breathtaking place.

The Night a Strange Man followed Me Home... and I lived to tell the tale!

Last night, against all my desires, I met Jalal. Ha!

Hani, Suzanne and I went to dinner last night at Cafe Perugia. Nom. I had the soup, Lo Zuppo di legumi... translated into English as "Organic Pulses Soup." Clearly I had to order it. It was AMAZING. It was thick lentil soup with a meat base broth and olive oil drizzled on top. Yes, please. Can't wait to go back. We had some fantastic wine and food. Hani has been battling a terrible cold so Suzanne ordered him to get a shot of whiskey- PRONTO. So we hopped over to the bar and got a drink at this bar right next to "the Steps" and our apartment. The Steps are the steps of Chiesa di San Lorenzo, the cathedral of Perugia. Every night, young people from all over the world go there to mingle, chat, smoke and drink. In Perugia, you can have an open container if it isn't in a glass bottle. They have a littering problem. Anywho, we got a drink and I gave Hani the rest of my delicious and cold Newcastle so I could go home and pass out. I live maybe 2 minutes from the steps and live off a main street. I knew it was a safe place to go for sure and I wasn't tipsy or anything.

On my walk to my apartment, I spend 90 percent of it on a main road where a bunch of Umbra Insitute students live and a few of them hang out in the street too. So I knew it was fine. It wasn't even 11 PM for heaven sakes. But I notice this lone guy walking far behind me. I slowed down and pretended I was doing something so he could keep walking past me.

Nope. My tactic failed. I hear his steps quicken and all of a sudden I hear "Ciao. Italianoitalinoitalno, parli italani, scusi, italianoitaliano blah blah blah." He has caught up with me so he can talk my ears off. I was silent for 15 seconds CLEARLY ignoring him and he kept talking. No discouraging this guy...

So because I was 20 steps away from my apartment, I couldn't go home because he would know where I lived. Well here's what I learned from the very little I could understand of his RAPID Italian.

His name is Jalal. He even showed me his id because I couldn't understand his name. I figured I was safe if he was taking out his wallet in front of me haha. I found out (maybe?) many things about him.

1. He lives with his sister and her two children.
2. He might be Moroccan.
3. He wanted my number and to take me for a coffee EVEN THOUGH I COULDN'T COMMUNICATE WITH HIM. Am I weird for thinking this is a problem? This happens a lot actually. Italian guys will take out American girls even if the girls can barely speak Italian.
4. He thought I was very beautiful and told me that meeting me made him happy.
5. He doesn't like the Steps. I feel like this is because he might be running from the law. HA. Safety first.
6. He is legally registered in Italy as a citizen so if he assaulted me I could easy find him with the police. The police worry the most about illegal immigrants because they can commit a crime and completely disappear. 

Fortunately, I told him my phone didn't work, I wasn't going home but going to the steps and I said "I don't understand" multiple times. You'd think all of those things would be a turn off/ make him realize we were not meant to be...

Nope. Something tells me that I will see Jalal again real soon... Yay Perugia for being my new TAC sized life... 

WHY DO PEOPLE GO TO NAPOLI?

I've found Heaven and Hell. They are called Capri and Naples.

WHY DO PEOPLE GO TO NAPLES?

Probably for the pizza. I went to Brandi's, the original restaurant that made the Magherita pizza... OMG. Delicious. Otherwise, Napoli is an abomination before the Lord. It's dirty, depressing and full of gypsies. People put graffiti allover the beautiful Baroque architecture. It's just so depressing that it's such a dump with all its history.

So Friday, I went to Pompeii. So hottttt. Faceva brutto! Troppo caldo per camminare! We got a 2 hour walking tour in the sun. It went long... needless to say we were angry children. But I have some great photos to upload soon :)

Friday night, we stayed in Sorrento. We were staying in a "four star hotel" with paper thin walls, no internet except in the lobby for 5 euros an hour, and we were 4 girls to a room. What's a three star like? Fortunately, I had some really great roommates I was meeting for the first time.

So first night in Sorrento, I was pretty upset. We woke up at 6 am, were on the bus for 5-6 hours, stood in the sun in Pompeii for over 2 hours, then back on the bus to Sorrento... On the bus I had these images of my queen sized bed in Sorrento where I would take a hot shower and use my computer for hours by myself.

Nope. So I left the hotel and walked around. I found a beautiful church and it was God tapping me on the shoulder. "Remember me, you pathetic loser?" and I said "Wow, you still want to talk to me? Score."  These old ladies were staying the Rosary in Italian. I went and lit some candles in front of all their statues: St. Therese, St. Francisco, St. Joseph e Padre Pio. Recharged, I went to the hotel where I asked slowly in Italian "I would like to use the Italian for an hour, please." And another guest at the hotel turned to me and said "You speak Italian so beautifully!"

Mom, Dad, friends, people who read this because they are bored/curious: I almost embraced this strange man because I've never needed encouragement so much in my life. But, fortunately, I don't speak Italian well yet. hahahha.

And I got to use the Internet. HUZZZZAHHH.

Basically, every time I think I'm going to start screaming in English/Italiano, something great happens. God's so looking out for me, it's ridiculous. 


Next post: "Biondi, Biondi, Prendi un foto? Capisci?"

Cooking without Salt... and Various mishaps.

Ah. Culture shock has arrived. It first stood on the front steps like an eager Jehovah Witness asking me for a bit of my time. I politely and firmly said "No, thanks. I'm doing dandy." It knowingly said "I'll be back" and I double locked the door.

Now culture shock has developed into a camp of wild gypsies in my bedroom. It even used my toothbrush. You know, you give culture shock a cold shoulder and next thing you know you are an angry, irrational monster on the brink of tears because it's 5 pm and you had a yogurt and saltines for the day's meals. Why have you not eaten anything? Because you can't bear the thought of having to talk another person in Italian or you had only 40 minutes break from school. Thursday I had class from 8 am to 5 pm... with a hour long lunch break which was mostly taken up by transit time. Grocery shopping = stressful. They never give you enough plastic bags (because of course you have to ask and of course you can't remember the correct word in Italian). I asked the butcher in Italian "Where's the salty?" and he says to me with a smile "The salt?" HAHA. So embarrassing. But I found it and I went back to him and told him "Thank you, I found it!" Fortunately, Italians in Perugia are SO NICE when you speak even terrible Italian to them.

Because I am stupid and shy AND go up and down probably 20-30 flights of stairs a day and walk a 4 miles everyday, I have probably lost 5-10 pounds my first week here. I don't have a scale but I can see a dramatic difference in my body. Of course, I brought clothes that were mostly loose because most people say they gain 10 pounds when they study in Italy... Nope, my pants can't stay up... I'm hoping once I get my cafeteria card tomorrow, I'll stop losing weight and not be starving all day long. It's amazing how long you can be furiously hungry without actually dying.

My new apartment is great! But lacks two essentials: salt and internet.My sad, sad meal that I cooked the first night desperately needed salt. Thank God for salty cheese! My spirit is dying without internet. Of course, the housing lady told me she would install it on Thursday morning... It's Monday, lady and I'm losing my freakin marbles. My phone doesn't have data (didn't realize until after I paid for it...) so basically I'm a terrible correspondent and company like 95% of the time.

I'VE REALLY missed blogging. It's my new therapy since I can't eat my feelings anymore... 

"Finn, I need applause to live!"

I thought I needed food to live. Nope, I really just need the internet. AND coffee. Let's be real.

Il Secondo/Il Deux/Part 2 of Crap Days

Soooo.... my surprise roommate made a big splash. My school is moving us to a new apartment. One of my Umbra roommates already moved tonight. Suzanne and I are moving to a cute little apartment in a great location tomorrow. It's a Ritz compared to where we live now and we even get our own rooms! Too bad moving sucks so much...

The conversation that got us this new apartment: hilarious. So Suzanne and I are complaining... and the residence lady is like Yeah, I know, he's so much older, it's so inappropriate. And I was like um yeah... and because he's a DUDE... She's like you should always expect a male roommate...

Ok. So basically what happened is Francesco bent the rules. He is only supposed to rent to students of the Stranieri, where I go. However, it's implied that these students must be young. The residence lady was mad we lived with an old man instead of a young man. I surrreeennddderrrr to this day and chaos. What the hell? I don't want to live with a twenty year old man either. They pee allover the bathroom and never clean up. Yes, don't deny it. I've been to your house.

The residence lady is soooo pissed at Francesco that she's moving all of us out of our apartment. Poor Jorge must feel like an ass. He's actually doing us a favor, this is a dump. I feel really bad because I chatted with him and he's a very nice fellow. I even feel like I betrayed him, despite the briefness of our friendship.

Last night in Casa Mariotti. Goodbye, pee smelling bathroom and molding shower curtain.

In other news, I started class today. My class is about 15-20 people from allover: German, Polish, Scottish, American, English, Chinese, Israeli, and someone from Dubai too. No mustache man of my dreams but hey, it's only the first day ;)

All the material is easy but it's difficult expressing yourself in Italian when you are nervous. Classes are endless... but I think it's going to be AMAZING for my language skills. Being in love with one of my language teachers doesn't help either. He yelled at me for saying "Um" because I read something... and then I said "Um" again... This experience is almost too humbling hahaha. Man oh man...

My phone won't work. The residence lady said What does your contract say? And I said What contract?

I'm that dumbass without a contract. Failure #388748438483 since I landed.

Also meals missed/skipped: undocumented because of sheer hunger and inability to perform math while borderline on one's deathbed. And fear of speaking to a butcher or ordering food in bad Italian.

Staircases climbed today: 20-30

Shin Splints: How do you count them? I'm guessing 4 from the pain level.

Espressos: 2. I'm currently bouncing off the walls because I had one at dinner. WAAAHHOOOOO.

Time to snooze.

Part 1: The Longest/Supah Dupah Crappiest Half Week of My Life

Yesterday in the evening, someone asked me what time I took my placement test. I couldn't remember. I am even scratching my head now trying to remember. Here is the unbelievable blur that the last 48 hours has been...


Monday... the day that never ended. I woke up at 3:30 am and waited on Facebook in my sad dark little kitchen for someone to get on Facebook. It wasn't my day... Louise came on and I almost cried with joy. She told me she met someone I should marry... but he lived in Phoenix. Why does that always happen? I am in freakin Italy and my potential true love lives probably 30 minutes from my old house? Classico. I told Louise he'd probably be engaged by the time I got home. The good ones/the ones you unrealistically plan to wed don't stay single for long! We've all been there. Don't lie to yourself and try to make fun of me behind my back.

Then I tried to fall back asleep, despite the bad news Louise told me (hahaha), and all of a sudden, my shut window BANGS OPEN from the wind and wakes up my roommate. So I had some company! Misery (me) loves company. Then I took a freezing cold shower (screw you, formerly beloved Francesco. No, you don't just have to wait 30 seconds. You may only have to wait 30 seconds for me to attack you, however. I wonder if I'm kidding...I'll get to that later.) Oh, did I mention that the fridge didn't work? So all my fresh food was ruined? Yeah... I had pistachios I bought at the store. Never, never buy pistachios at an Italian store. So once I managed to not vomit, we went to Università per Stranieri (University for Foreigners for those of you who don't want to use Google Translate) for our placement tests.

Fortunately, I was bright and bushy tailed for our test since I woke up at 3:30 am. Oh, I kid. After a really difficult written test, I did the oral. Crash and burn. I should be in B2 because of my classes at ASU and Berlitz but my listening comprehension is too poor to be in it, hence I am in B1. Alllllorrraa, I have an opportunity to move up a level in a month if I study a lot and prepare for the test.

That afternoon we walked for hours. I can barely remember what happened between the test and our tour of the university. I guess we didn't eat lunch? Non mi ricordo. Considering I'm in fatass heaven, I am surprised by how little I've eaten. Just been to busy or tired to make a trip/awkwardly order in a restaurant. The tour was over an hour and a half and everyone was dead by the end. Then we had ANOTHER meeting at 5:30 at Umbra to discuss our program. It was informative but everyone was falling asleep.

ALSO, my "Chinese" roommate, as my landlord likes to call him, moved out of my apartment. It was the only time I saw him. I would be lying if I said I was sad to see him go. So then Francesco informs me that we will have another dude replace him in two weeks (me: ARGH. NO MORE MEN PLEASE).

So after the tour de Hell and the meeting of forever-like length, I sat at home completely relaxed. No more men. Sitting my pajamas. Drinking a beer.

My front door opens... it's a strange man in his 40s who I've never seen before. Oh, it's only my new roommate Jorge. Didn't Francesco the landlord tell me? Nope. Well hello there... So I go put more clothes on and let my roommate who was in the shower know that there was a strange older man in our apartment so she wouldn't come out in a towel.

Oh gosh. This is so awkward.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Cold Shower Morning

My landlord Francesco: "Turn on the hot water for the shower and give it a minute to get there."  It never came. I washed my hair in a quite chilly shower this morning. Somehow I couldn't figure out which knob was the warm one (both freezing) so I let one run for a minute... still cold. So then I thought guess it's the other one. Nope. Too late. I'll be late for Mass if I fiddle with this any longer. I comforted myself with the fact that cold water is supposed to make your hair look shiner.

So after a freezing shower, I booked it to the Basilica di San Lorenzo in Perugia. I showed up about 2 minutes before it started. Huzaaah. Fortunately all those years of Latin Mass/not being dumb paid off because I could follow everything pretty well except the Eucharistic prayers because I couldn't figure out which ones they were doing. The church is stunning. I will try to put up some pictures soon. I'm thinking of joining the choir once I speak Italian fluently.

So I used one of these correctly TWICE. Definitely made up for the freezing shower. And I didn't kill myself or others using the gas stove.

Even using crappy cheap coffee was made to taste great. Ti amo, Italia! 

For lunch I had random amazing cheese I found at the store, prosciutto cotto, cooked red pepper in olive oil and salad with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Oh, so grown up, aren't we? 

First afternoon in Perugia... my calves are getting a mighty workout.

Last night after my lonnnnggg flight, I got on a bus for three hours with my program mates. I sat next to this girl Effie whose family also came from Northern Italy so we hit it off. Very grateful for that because the bus ride was 3 hours long. Needless to say, we complain about how tired we were for most of it haha.

We arrived at Hotel Gio in Perugia, just outside the city where everyone crashed for the night before moving into our apartments in town. Checked in felt like hours.... buttttt then I went up to my room and met my new roommate Suzanne. She is great! I'm very lucky to have her. She fell asleep while we were talking with the lights on, she was so tired. That night, the program served us dinner... we were all zombies trying to be social haha. After dinner, some people went out to explore Perugia. Suzanne and I went to bed. Zzzzz...

Today we were driven to our new apartment! From the program, Megan and Suzanne are both from the US and living with me.  We are further then most people in Umbra from our school but hey, with the Italian delicacies, this just means we will gain less weight... hopefully... Our poor taxi driver got lost twice and barely squeezed into the alley to take us to our piazza. There we met our landlord Francesco who was so friendly and chill. He immediately made us all comfortable, he even carried our heavy suitcases up 3 flights of stairs. What a champ. He even teased me and started calling me Jolanda.  That may just be my new nickname...

Our apartment is great. We are sharing it with two/three other people. All our bedrooms have locks with keys. We have two bathrooms with two showers! Heavenly. We have a washing machine, a stove, a dishwasher, a microwave... AND WI-FI. Unfortunately it doesn't work well in the bedrooms. But hey dining room table isn't so bad. My roommates are also considering getting their own internet keys so that they can Skype in private.  Our apartment seems super random but I somehow love it already.

Ah... right now I'm so tired. I still haven't found a phone card or anything. I also don't care either. I'm oddly feeling at home. Of course, I have already had some awkward exchanges. Effie and I went to get gelato yesterday and I accidentally ordered a huge cup like a big fatass. But hey, I didn't eat breakfast or lunch that day. So I like to think that my subconscious knew I needed the calories to live. I don't know how I'm managing on eating so little without dying. Probably the jet lag. So tired all the time!

I went to the grocery store. Teeny tinny. BUT I fortunately read my school's guide book and I managed to figure out how to buy produce correctly. You don't touch it with your hands ever. They have free plastic gloves that you use to put it in a bag and then you weigh it, enter on the computer screen what produce you are weighing and the machine prints a sticker that you slap on your bag. È facile.

I managed to sign up for the trip next weekend that my program is organizing. Sorrento, Naples and Pompeii. AAAAH :D

Time to go! I have to meet up with my group for my tour of Perugia. So tired. Wish me luck :)