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.