Sunday morning we woke up early to go to the Mons service. The majority of the parish is Romanian so the liturgy was sung in Romanian and Italian. Unfortunately, we had to leave after the homily because the Italian boys were meeting us to go to the soccer game. There were ten of us so we had to go early to get seats. Because of course, assigned seats don't stop Italians from sitting where the hell they feel like. Shocker.
As we approached the stadium, it felt like tailgating for a football game. John was ecstatic. Can you tell he's from Ohio? However, inside, it was completely unAmerican. They didn't even sell alcohol. When I got inside, I was relieved. I finally understand what the Colosseum must have been like. Screaming, cheering, chanting, borderline rioting fans. Thousands of them. Before the game even started. It was a crackling, electric wave of sheer adrenaline. This crowd had its own pulse. Palermo isn't even a great team. Fortunately, neither was Bologna so it wasn't a heartbreaking game. We tied 1-1.
The popsicle man decided he was going to sell his wares directly in front of us which meant we were passing back and forward money and popsicles for awhile. We didn't even get a free popsicle out of it for watching his boxes when he left! It was gorgeous weather however. Our bottle of SPF 50 was passed back and forth repeatedly.
After the game, sunburned and delighted, we walked home to eat Mons' delicious Carbonara pasta. That man knows how to please. We were supposed to explore the city center that night but we begged off, being absolutely drained. There was a lot of nap time during our trip...
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Sicilia, You Fascinating Thing, Part 1.
I just spent 5 days in Palermo with my friends, visiting the orthodox archbishop.
It was an amazing vacation. Sure, there were some pains of travel. Being tired, getting grumpy, feeling dehydrated, getting frustrated when other people got grumpy. Our flights were quite early and we were required to get up at 5 for both of them.
I would easily say this was my best trip in Europe this past year. We were so lucky because our hosts were locals. The archbishop works in a language high school and teaches English. He contacted some of his former students who are our age and we hung out with them the entire time. They were so generous and so much fun!
Emilo lives with the archbishop in his bachelor pad. He is a former student of Mons (what we call the archbishop) and spoke English with us. Piero is also a former student of Mons and Laura is his girlfriend. They, along with their friends Diego and Alex, took us out to a soccer game, to the beach, to clubs, to the downtown hangout whose name I can never remember.
OH SICILY, THE FOOD. We showed up at the Mons' house and he served us stuffed squid. With great fear, I tried it... I could have sworn that I died and went to heaven. The cannoli were creamy and crunchy. We tried this one kind of donut which has the same filling as a cannoli but instead is a fresh donut. It was artery clogtastic and soul fulfilling. Arancini are a staple of the south. They are fried rice balls filled with meat ragu, spinach and cheese, or ham and cheese. The one gross thing I ate was another staple, calf lung and spleen sandwich. Ughhh. I choked it down and tried not to throw up. Fortunately, I kept it down. We ate way too well and much. Gelato was served in brioche, cone or cup. Mmm...
Saturday we went to Mondello, the beach just north of Palermo. The water was completely clear and light green/blue. It was cold but I went in anyway. Ah! So refreshing to be in the water. My pale skin was swathed in SPF 50 because the day before I got a sunburn from standing outside for maybe 40 minutes and sitting in a car for maybe an hour. I never thought of myself as a pale person but I guess I am. Unfortunately, many speedos populated the beach. I completely forgot what an eyesore Italian beaches can be. Can we make a law that WHITE SPEEDOS should be ILLEGAL? Italian men are total dandies so maybe they realize it makes them look tanner. Speedos are bad enough. White ones? I basically looked down most of the day. The Italians thought we were nuts for getting in the water but they tried to brave it haha. Afterwards we got our first arancini. Amanda got ham and cheese and I got the meat ragu one. We passed them back and forth, unable to decide which one was better.
That night we (the girls) went out dancing and then to the city pit of youth (where the boys immediately went). Palermo clubs are...CREEPY. I live in Perugia, so I'm used to creepy. But Palermo took the CAKE. I tried to go to the dance floor and Laura grabbed me and said "Look around you." I realize, finally, the dance floor doesn't have women dancing on it. It's literally a crowd of men watching, like dancing hawks searching for prey. So we had to dance near the bar which wasn't really the dance floor. Fortunately, Piero and Laura watched us and were pretty protective. After awhile, we meet up with the American boys in the pit of youth. The pit of youth is a neighborhood of abandoned buildings. There are hundreds of Sicilian young people who go there to hang out. There are food stands, live music, a lot of weed smoke and absolute chaos. It's really cool but I was very tired so I was ready to go home after 20 mins.
There is so much more to stay... To be continued!
It was an amazing vacation. Sure, there were some pains of travel. Being tired, getting grumpy, feeling dehydrated, getting frustrated when other people got grumpy. Our flights were quite early and we were required to get up at 5 for both of them.
I would easily say this was my best trip in Europe this past year. We were so lucky because our hosts were locals. The archbishop works in a language high school and teaches English. He contacted some of his former students who are our age and we hung out with them the entire time. They were so generous and so much fun!
Emilo lives with the archbishop in his bachelor pad. He is a former student of Mons (what we call the archbishop) and spoke English with us. Piero is also a former student of Mons and Laura is his girlfriend. They, along with their friends Diego and Alex, took us out to a soccer game, to the beach, to clubs, to the downtown hangout whose name I can never remember.
OH SICILY, THE FOOD. We showed up at the Mons' house and he served us stuffed squid. With great fear, I tried it... I could have sworn that I died and went to heaven. The cannoli were creamy and crunchy. We tried this one kind of donut which has the same filling as a cannoli but instead is a fresh donut. It was artery clogtastic and soul fulfilling. Arancini are a staple of the south. They are fried rice balls filled with meat ragu, spinach and cheese, or ham and cheese. The one gross thing I ate was another staple, calf lung and spleen sandwich. Ughhh. I choked it down and tried not to throw up. Fortunately, I kept it down. We ate way too well and much. Gelato was served in brioche, cone or cup. Mmm...
Saturday we went to Mondello, the beach just north of Palermo. The water was completely clear and light green/blue. It was cold but I went in anyway. Ah! So refreshing to be in the water. My pale skin was swathed in SPF 50 because the day before I got a sunburn from standing outside for maybe 40 minutes and sitting in a car for maybe an hour. I never thought of myself as a pale person but I guess I am. Unfortunately, many speedos populated the beach. I completely forgot what an eyesore Italian beaches can be. Can we make a law that WHITE SPEEDOS should be ILLEGAL? Italian men are total dandies so maybe they realize it makes them look tanner. Speedos are bad enough. White ones? I basically looked down most of the day. The Italians thought we were nuts for getting in the water but they tried to brave it haha. Afterwards we got our first arancini. Amanda got ham and cheese and I got the meat ragu one. We passed them back and forth, unable to decide which one was better.
That night we (the girls) went out dancing and then to the city pit of youth (where the boys immediately went). Palermo clubs are...CREEPY. I live in Perugia, so I'm used to creepy. But Palermo took the CAKE. I tried to go to the dance floor and Laura grabbed me and said "Look around you." I realize, finally, the dance floor doesn't have women dancing on it. It's literally a crowd of men watching, like dancing hawks searching for prey. So we had to dance near the bar which wasn't really the dance floor. Fortunately, Piero and Laura watched us and were pretty protective. After awhile, we meet up with the American boys in the pit of youth. The pit of youth is a neighborhood of abandoned buildings. There are hundreds of Sicilian young people who go there to hang out. There are food stands, live music, a lot of weed smoke and absolute chaos. It's really cool but I was very tired so I was ready to go home after 20 mins.
There is so much more to stay... To be continued!
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Last month in PG!
Alas, it has finally come around. My last month in Perugia. I know I should be all sad to leave but I'm pretty pumped.
Louisa, shame on you. Happy to leave? No. Look outside, eat some handmade pasta, drink some wine...
My response: it's raining, I have enough pasta lbs. tyvm, and I think wine will mess with my cold haha. Your immediate reaction: what a grump! My retort: seriously. such a grumpy gremlin attitude.
Despite my natural ability to complain tirelessly, it's very difficult to leave Italy. I have a lot of regrets. One main problem is forgetting the "movie version of living in Italy" expectations. For example, I'm frustrated how hard it is for me to speak Italian comfortably. Because in the movie version of my life, I would be fluent after 7 months. Alas, in reality, learning a language takes a really long time. Also, I wouldn't say it comes natural to me at all, not the humility nor the knack! I'm so envious of people who grew up speaking two languages. They had to play around with languages long ago! Most importantly, I cut myself short. My doubt leads me to make dumb mistakes or give up when I am totally competent to express myself in the situation but too proud or scared to.
For awhile, I planned on staying until the end of June. That would be sufficient time, right? However, as I got closer to June, all I could think was how impatient I was to get the hell out of Europe. How I dreaded having to move into a new apartment and start from scratch socially. I found myself being tense with anxiety. I realized it was time to go home. I thought perhaps I was making a mistake, until multiple people told me they had no idea how long I lasted here/they were jealous that I could go home first. I know for certain I will return but I think 8 months in Perugia has been quite enough. I started C1 last week and I hate it. It's all lecture and I cannot translate and remember at the same time.
Though C1 is terrible, I have an excellent mini vacation to distract me coming up. My friend John's family friend is the (Ukrainian?) Orthodox archbishop of Palermo. (!!) A big group of us are going to Palermo Friday-Wednesday to visit! I'm so EXCITED! I've never been to Sicily and it'll be warm. We'll go to beach. Eat excellent seafood. Hang out with the archbishop. But most of all, we will be missing classsss!! Thrilling.
After Palermo, it'll be a week of class and then the program ends! My dad will come see me in Perugia for a day or two. Then we'll pack me up and go to Rome for the weekend. Next, Bari, methinks. Then Trieste, Slovenia, Venice. I will be flying out of Venice May 7th and LANDING May 7th in Phoenix. I'll be the girl kissing the ground crying tears of joy.
Louisa, shame on you. Happy to leave? No. Look outside, eat some handmade pasta, drink some wine...
My response: it's raining, I have enough pasta lbs. tyvm, and I think wine will mess with my cold haha. Your immediate reaction: what a grump! My retort: seriously. such a grumpy gremlin attitude.
Despite my natural ability to complain tirelessly, it's very difficult to leave Italy. I have a lot of regrets. One main problem is forgetting the "movie version of living in Italy" expectations. For example, I'm frustrated how hard it is for me to speak Italian comfortably. Because in the movie version of my life, I would be fluent after 7 months. Alas, in reality, learning a language takes a really long time. Also, I wouldn't say it comes natural to me at all, not the humility nor the knack! I'm so envious of people who grew up speaking two languages. They had to play around with languages long ago! Most importantly, I cut myself short. My doubt leads me to make dumb mistakes or give up when I am totally competent to express myself in the situation but too proud or scared to.
For awhile, I planned on staying until the end of June. That would be sufficient time, right? However, as I got closer to June, all I could think was how impatient I was to get the hell out of Europe. How I dreaded having to move into a new apartment and start from scratch socially. I found myself being tense with anxiety. I realized it was time to go home. I thought perhaps I was making a mistake, until multiple people told me they had no idea how long I lasted here/they were jealous that I could go home first. I know for certain I will return but I think 8 months in Perugia has been quite enough. I started C1 last week and I hate it. It's all lecture and I cannot translate and remember at the same time.
Though C1 is terrible, I have an excellent mini vacation to distract me coming up. My friend John's family friend is the (Ukrainian?) Orthodox archbishop of Palermo. (!!) A big group of us are going to Palermo Friday-Wednesday to visit! I'm so EXCITED! I've never been to Sicily and it'll be warm. We'll go to beach. Eat excellent seafood. Hang out with the archbishop. But most of all, we will be missing classsss!! Thrilling.
After Palermo, it'll be a week of class and then the program ends! My dad will come see me in Perugia for a day or two. Then we'll pack me up and go to Rome for the weekend. Next, Bari, methinks. Then Trieste, Slovenia, Venice. I will be flying out of Venice May 7th and LANDING May 7th in Phoenix. I'll be the girl kissing the ground crying tears of joy.
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