Despite my misgivings, my apartment is very nice. It's plenty large enough for three people, and it's looking like the third guy isn't going to show up, so it's practically roomy. Perhaps the most pleasant surprise, however, is the presence of cable TV. With the welcome exception of BBC World News, however, all of the programming is in Italian. I haven't been brave enough to switch to original Italian television, but I have been able to summon up enough courage to watch Italian dubs or versions of American shows (unfortunately, all I could find was Friends) and channels (unfortunately, all I could find was MTV, though it's actually far less grating when you can't understand them). Despite these difficulties, I am very up to date on world news (or at least one programming loop worth of it), and the Italian shows ARE sort of entertaining (I like to make up the dialog as they go along), and I imagine the TV will eventually become helpful in learning the language when I finally have the building blocks of it, so I'm glad we have it.
My first day in Sicily was short, but my first night in Sicily was certainly memorable, in multiple ways. After moving my stuff up to my loft, I got in touch with the other API students and made plans for our first dinner in our new home. After unpacking what I could, I showered and changed, grabbed my keys, and headed downstairs. Once I reached the outer door of the apartment (there is an outer door followed by a staircase up to the two apartments in the building; my door is on the right), I faced a bit of a quandary. How do I open this door?, I wondered. I looked around for a button to open the electric lock, but found only a light switch. I saw the keyhole on the door and came to the (reasonable, I thought) conclusion that because there was a keyhole and because I had a key, that was how I was to open the door.
Unfortunately, it wasn't.
Though the key fit in the hole and did turn the lock, success eluded me. After fidgeting around with the key for a while, the unthinkable happened, and the key broke off, half of it still in the lock. I stood stunned for a minute before making a few feeble and ill-fated attempts to remove the key. In my struggles, I found the button to open the door, and I pulled it open to allow for some much needed cool air. I walked outside to the other side of the door in order to take a look and see if I could somehow push the key out when I heard a scooter, an evil, evil scooter around the corner. I moved to the side to allow it to go by before returning to peering through the keyhole. A minute or so later, I thought I heard someone speaking English around the corner, and, hoping it would be my program director or someone who could help me, walked over to investigate. I didn't see anyone, but did turn around in time to see my door close and lock me out.
Needless to say, I felt like an idiot.
I called my program director to tell her what happened, and she talked to Ramza, our housing director from MCAS, telling me he'd get back to me. Thinking I should meet him at the school, I walked in the direction I thought it was. Whatever direction I chose, it must have been the wrong one, because when he finally called me and let me know he was on his way to the apartment, I was thoroughly and completely lost. Though I had a map, the street names were too blurry to read, and though I had my apartment marked on it, the piece of paper in my hand was no Marauder's Map, so I had no idea where I was. Every time I thought I was heading the right way, I'd end up seeing the bridges or the castle, which adorn either end of the island (my apartment is fairly central in location). After making an ass of myself to several well-meaning but nigh unintelligible Italians, I finally found someone who knew where Via Mendoza was, and as a bonus, she spoke some English. She directed me towards my apartment, and after a few minutes of walking (it turned out I was right around the corner), I walked up to my door only a few minutes before Ramza arrived. He got the other occupant to open the door for us, and then used a pair of borrowed pliers to remove the piece of key (which I've kept as a sort of souvenir). He told me he'd give me a key in the morning as my roommate was walking in.
I explained the situation to him and asked what his plans were for the evening. He said he wasn't sure yet, but he'd be happy to head back when I needed to be let in. We exchanged numbers, and I walked out to see if could still catch dinner.
It ended up that I got to the school right as the others arrived, and we headed to dinner as I explained my adventure. We headed to a place on the southern half of the island near the water that our program director recommended. We were a bit late to get a table for so large a group outside, so they took us downstairs to the dining room, where a glass floor offered us glances of a set of ruins below, complete with electric fountain pumps. I ordered risotto with seafood (the menu didn't explain what exactly "seafood" meant, but I decided I'd take a chance) and consequently had my first taste of calamari. I was pleasantly surprised, and the meal in it's entirety was, again, delicious. I'm now afraid to go anywhere that Michelle doesn't expressly recommend, as she's pretty much batting a thousand.
I ambled back towards my apartment after splitting off from the girls somewhere near the fountain that serves as a center of travel on Ortigia. I called my roommate, who was already on his way back. He arrived at the apartment a few minutes after I did and opened the outer door. Though we contemplated going out again, we ended up just watching (and attempting to decode) TV for the rest of the night, as it was late and we were both drained from our travels.
I slept well my first night, and Thursday came quickly. We were to meet at the school at noon for a practical tour of the area, and I threw on my last clean set of clothing and headed out early so I'd have time to stop and eat.
A euro and a half bought me a very large and very tasty custard-filled pastry and my first espresso, which I found to be a bit of an acquired taste. I was very pleased with the price, as the American equivalent of one and a half euros (around $2.25) wouldn't have gone nearly as far back at home.
The practical tour was relatively short, but helpful. Stores aren't quite as plentiful as they were in Rome, but it's less of a walk to the few there are. Michelle introduced us to the owners of a little market/deli place. They brought up the image of my grandparents, only short, fat, and not in South Dennis, Massachusetts. They didn't speak English, but seemed to be excellent at communicating through hand gestured, like they were used to us little lost Americans. She also pointed us towards the open-air market, which, while only open during the morning on week days, offers the cheapest prices and freshest foods. Most Ortigians buy their food far more often and in smaller doses than we're used to, so this fits nicely.
After the tour, we ate lunch, and, after a quick picture session, split off, with most of us heading off to get the things we needed for the next four months. I myself went back towards that market and mimed myself soap, shampoo and detergent, then headed home and figured out how to use my Italian washing machine. It took a bit of effort, but I finally got it going, and, after an hour and a half, pulled my clean clothes out and hung them outside on the terrace to dry. They're still wet as I'm typing, but I'm not too worried. I left the apartment again and bought myself a few more shirts and some food. My first attempt at cooking here was a successful one, I thought. I made myself some kind of pasta and cheese dish that I can hopefully replicate when I need to.
This takes me up all the way through typing this. My third roommate did end up showing up, so I might give him a quick tour. I'm sorry that this entry is so long, but I wanted to get caught up. Tomorrow is filled with a long orientation, and marks the beginning of daily life here in Siracusa.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Rome 3 and arriving in Sicily
You know, I was mentally prepared for a lot of things before coming here. The langauge barrier, the weird Monopoly-esque money, coffee strong enough to make your hair fall out. What I wasn't prepared for, however, was this keyboard. It's close enough so I can still touch type pretty well when it comes to words, but punctuation and symbols are all off. They've made space for the accented vowels (à,è,ò,ù) and other letters not commonly found in the English language, and things have moved around as a result. I'll post a picture of it later so you can see what I'm talking about.
So I spent my last day in Rome touring the Vatican. The amount of art they've got there is amazing, and our tour guide said that, after walking for around four hours, we'd only seen about thirty percent or so of what there is to see. I believe him. The Vatican museum is a complex and winding series of halls, tunnels and courtyards, and I'm glad we had a guide to keep us from getting too lost.
I took a lot of pictures of the Vatican, but I'm sort of disappointed with them. They were really restrictive about what they'd let us take pictures of. The Sistene Chapel, for example, was off-limits for photographs, and the guards (regular, not Swiss) were extremely attentive. The pictures I did take are okay, but a lot of them came out less than crystal clear, due to the lack of flash.
For now, you can look at the Facebook albums by using these public links: Rome 1 Rome 2
After the Vatican, we went and got lunch and walked back across the river to check out the Castel Sant'Angelo. Originally the tomb of the Roman emperor Hadrian, it was later used as a castle and fortress, and now serves as a museum displaying Roman and Egyptian art. The art is all very, very cool. I enjoyed it more than most of the art in the Vatican, and the building is really impressive as well. By far the best part of Castel Sant'Angelo, however, is the breathtaking view available from the top of the building. You can see all of Rome, and it's worth the walk up the seemingly endless stairs and ramps. Those pictures, as well as the ones from the Vatican, are in the second album.
Our last full day in Rome over, we had dinner and went back to the hotel to repack. The next morning, we got up and got on the bus to the airport. The flight was only an hour or an hour and a half long, and was significantly more enjoyable than the first one. We touched down in Catania around three or so and piled into a taxi van to Siracusa.
My first night here was, erm... an adventure, and will take a bit more time to describe than I have time to type right now. Suffice to say that Ortiga (the island I'm staying on) is a beautiful place, and I can tell I'm really going to enjoy my time here.
So I spent my last day in Rome touring the Vatican. The amount of art they've got there is amazing, and our tour guide said that, after walking for around four hours, we'd only seen about thirty percent or so of what there is to see. I believe him. The Vatican museum is a complex and winding series of halls, tunnels and courtyards, and I'm glad we had a guide to keep us from getting too lost.
I took a lot of pictures of the Vatican, but I'm sort of disappointed with them. They were really restrictive about what they'd let us take pictures of. The Sistene Chapel, for example, was off-limits for photographs, and the guards (regular, not Swiss) were extremely attentive. The pictures I did take are okay, but a lot of them came out less than crystal clear, due to the lack of flash.
For now, you can look at the Facebook albums by using these public links: Rome 1 Rome 2
After the Vatican, we went and got lunch and walked back across the river to check out the Castel Sant'Angelo. Originally the tomb of the Roman emperor Hadrian, it was later used as a castle and fortress, and now serves as a museum displaying Roman and Egyptian art. The art is all very, very cool. I enjoyed it more than most of the art in the Vatican, and the building is really impressive as well. By far the best part of Castel Sant'Angelo, however, is the breathtaking view available from the top of the building. You can see all of Rome, and it's worth the walk up the seemingly endless stairs and ramps. Those pictures, as well as the ones from the Vatican, are in the second album.
Our last full day in Rome over, we had dinner and went back to the hotel to repack. The next morning, we got up and got on the bus to the airport. The flight was only an hour or an hour and a half long, and was significantly more enjoyable than the first one. We touched down in Catania around three or so and piled into a taxi van to Siracusa.
My first night here was, erm... an adventure, and will take a bit more time to describe than I have time to type right now. Suffice to say that Ortiga (the island I'm staying on) is a beautiful place, and I can tell I'm really going to enjoy my time here.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Rome: Day 2 (or so)
A day later, I'm still exhausted. Jet lag doesn't go away as easily as I though it would, though I'm feeling way better than I was before. I'm still getting a little tired during the middle of the day, though that may just be from the heat. Italians have something called a riposo in the middle of the day. It's nearly identical to the Spanish siesta (businesses close for a few hours in the afternoon, with the exception of restaurants), and I imagine it's largely because of the heat. I've been told it's more prevalent in Sicily than in Rome. It takes a bit of getting used to, but I can definitely understand the reason for it.
Anyways, on with the story.
So yesterday... well, two days ago, I suppose (at least for me), I left off at Trevi Fountain. We continued on towards a church that's not quite as tourist-infested as some of the other areas. From the outside, you really don't notice anything special. I mean, the facade is tall and ornate, but that's not uncommon in Rome. They love columns and arches here. Anyways, it was incredible inside. Though it paled in comparison to St. Peter's, it's still head and shoulders above anything else I've seen. Since nearly all Italians are Catholics, Catholics love over-the top things and Italians love over-the-top things, it's sort of a perfect church storm here. Apparently, they ran out of money to build the third dome in this place, so they just painted a piece of canvas to look like a dome from a certain perspective and used that. It's pretty convincing. The pictures are on my Facebook, but, unfortunately, I don't have the time to upload them to this (I'm typing this in TextEdit, then logging on for like three minutes to copy it in so I pay as little as possible). I'm considering paying for an advanced Flickr account, but I'd like a free alternative if anyone has any suggestions for unlimited picture hosting.
After the walking tour, we boarded a bus and went and saw the Colosseum. It was, of course, incredible. The size is astonishing, the architecture is amazing and the sheer history is almost palpable and it really takes your breath away to stop and think about it. You can almost see it, the stadium grand and whole, with seats leading all the way to the top, the outside lined with shining marble and 50,000 people crowding in to see the show. The 50,000, all of whom paid nothing to get in (it was the emperor's gift to the people, mainly to apologize for the infamous Nero's behavior), lined the stadium to watch men fight animals and each other, as well as the always-pleasant lunchtime diversion, public execution. Apparently, death was relatively uncommon (ignoring the executions, of course), as gladiators were not only valuable slaves, but they often attracted a following. The feeling of standing in a place and knowing what happened there so many years ago is really awe-inspiring.
We took the bus back to the hotel after that, passing by the Vatican on the way (more on that later). We split after that, with most of us heading off to nap. Deciding to confront my jet lag head on, I instead walked to my room and grabbed my camera. I then got myself good and lost and just wandered around Rome.
Before anyone gets all in a tizzy about safety or whatever, I'll let you know I pretty much knew where I was the entire time. I was a bit disoriented for about three minutes during the four or so hours I wandered, and it only took a quick look for the nearest piazza to get my bearings. Rome feels pretty safe, actually, especially during the day. People are friendly, and most of them speak English.
It's difficult to put my little adventure into words. I cannot give you the names of half the places I saw, nor can I give you an idea of my feelings during the time. I suppose a great feeling of luck was my most prominent emotion. There I was, wandering Rome with nothing more than a few euros, a cheap map and a camera. I knew my way around, I spoke the necessary Italian and I was free to go wherever I wanted and photograph whatever I wanted. I felt confident and independent in a foreign land, completely in control of the situation at any given moment.
That night, we left the hotel for dinner. Dinner is later here, and longer as well. Hanging around after the meal isn't really frowned upon here. We went to a place around the corner that our program director, Michelle, had a reservation at. At the restaurant, we were served around eight different plates, just so we could try everything. The ravioli we had was incredible, by far my favorite. Too bad I can't remember what it's called.
On the way back from dinner, one of the girls got picked up by a mime. It was weird.
After dessert, we stopped back at the hotel quickly and then headed out again, this time to the other side of the river. It was a beautiful night, and walking along the river (however algae-infested it may be) and watching the lights of the shops along it reflect to create a shimmering mirror image was really surreal. It was difficult to comprehend that we were really in Rome, that we were really in Italy. Across the river, we walked among friendly and relatively tame crowds, many of them gathered around street performers of one type or another. Crowds here, even ones outside bars, aren't really ever rowdy or drunk.
Things did get a bit sketchy, however, when we were walking back across the bridge. Being the only guy in the program has it's obvious benefits, but it comes with a feeling of responsibility for your friends. The rhythmic chants of "hey bay-bee, hey bay-bee" echoed across the bridge, and we had to stop to pluck a friend out from a group of characteristically, er... aggressive, Italians. I was also offered drugs on three or four separate occasions while crossing the bridge (all weed, and I obviously declined), but that happens at home to me, too. I think it's the eyebrows.
We spent another day in Rome that I'll try and cover later, but we leave tomorrow (today). All in all, Rome is a beautiful place. I feel comfortable here, and ignoring the rogue Vespa (or any other Vespa, or car for that matter) flying out of freaking nowhere, safe as well. The fact that I know my way around at least part of the city is really amazing. I wish I could have posted more on my afternoon of wandering, but words really do escape me. It was, all in all, the defining experience of the orientation.
As I explained before, they say if you throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain, you'll come back to Rome. I had my half-euro coin in my hand and my back turned to the fountain, but ended up pocketing it and walking away. This is mostly because I'm poor, cannot get a job here and am quickly realizing that change is actually valuable here, but also because I know I'm coming back, and I don't need any help making that choice.
Anyways, on with the story.
So yesterday... well, two days ago, I suppose (at least for me), I left off at Trevi Fountain. We continued on towards a church that's not quite as tourist-infested as some of the other areas. From the outside, you really don't notice anything special. I mean, the facade is tall and ornate, but that's not uncommon in Rome. They love columns and arches here. Anyways, it was incredible inside. Though it paled in comparison to St. Peter's, it's still head and shoulders above anything else I've seen. Since nearly all Italians are Catholics, Catholics love over-the top things and Italians love over-the-top things, it's sort of a perfect church storm here. Apparently, they ran out of money to build the third dome in this place, so they just painted a piece of canvas to look like a dome from a certain perspective and used that. It's pretty convincing. The pictures are on my Facebook, but, unfortunately, I don't have the time to upload them to this (I'm typing this in TextEdit, then logging on for like three minutes to copy it in so I pay as little as possible). I'm considering paying for an advanced Flickr account, but I'd like a free alternative if anyone has any suggestions for unlimited picture hosting.
After the walking tour, we boarded a bus and went and saw the Colosseum. It was, of course, incredible. The size is astonishing, the architecture is amazing and the sheer history is almost palpable and it really takes your breath away to stop and think about it. You can almost see it, the stadium grand and whole, with seats leading all the way to the top, the outside lined with shining marble and 50,000 people crowding in to see the show. The 50,000, all of whom paid nothing to get in (it was the emperor's gift to the people, mainly to apologize for the infamous Nero's behavior), lined the stadium to watch men fight animals and each other, as well as the always-pleasant lunchtime diversion, public execution. Apparently, death was relatively uncommon (ignoring the executions, of course), as gladiators were not only valuable slaves, but they often attracted a following. The feeling of standing in a place and knowing what happened there so many years ago is really awe-inspiring.
We took the bus back to the hotel after that, passing by the Vatican on the way (more on that later). We split after that, with most of us heading off to nap. Deciding to confront my jet lag head on, I instead walked to my room and grabbed my camera. I then got myself good and lost and just wandered around Rome.
Before anyone gets all in a tizzy about safety or whatever, I'll let you know I pretty much knew where I was the entire time. I was a bit disoriented for about three minutes during the four or so hours I wandered, and it only took a quick look for the nearest piazza to get my bearings. Rome feels pretty safe, actually, especially during the day. People are friendly, and most of them speak English.
It's difficult to put my little adventure into words. I cannot give you the names of half the places I saw, nor can I give you an idea of my feelings during the time. I suppose a great feeling of luck was my most prominent emotion. There I was, wandering Rome with nothing more than a few euros, a cheap map and a camera. I knew my way around, I spoke the necessary Italian and I was free to go wherever I wanted and photograph whatever I wanted. I felt confident and independent in a foreign land, completely in control of the situation at any given moment.
That night, we left the hotel for dinner. Dinner is later here, and longer as well. Hanging around after the meal isn't really frowned upon here. We went to a place around the corner that our program director, Michelle, had a reservation at. At the restaurant, we were served around eight different plates, just so we could try everything. The ravioli we had was incredible, by far my favorite. Too bad I can't remember what it's called.
On the way back from dinner, one of the girls got picked up by a mime. It was weird.
After dessert, we stopped back at the hotel quickly and then headed out again, this time to the other side of the river. It was a beautiful night, and walking along the river (however algae-infested it may be) and watching the lights of the shops along it reflect to create a shimmering mirror image was really surreal. It was difficult to comprehend that we were really in Rome, that we were really in Italy. Across the river, we walked among friendly and relatively tame crowds, many of them gathered around street performers of one type or another. Crowds here, even ones outside bars, aren't really ever rowdy or drunk.
Things did get a bit sketchy, however, when we were walking back across the bridge. Being the only guy in the program has it's obvious benefits, but it comes with a feeling of responsibility for your friends. The rhythmic chants of "hey bay-bee, hey bay-bee" echoed across the bridge, and we had to stop to pluck a friend out from a group of characteristically, er... aggressive, Italians. I was also offered drugs on three or four separate occasions while crossing the bridge (all weed, and I obviously declined), but that happens at home to me, too. I think it's the eyebrows.
We spent another day in Rome that I'll try and cover later, but we leave tomorrow (today). All in all, Rome is a beautiful place. I feel comfortable here, and ignoring the rogue Vespa (or any other Vespa, or car for that matter) flying out of freaking nowhere, safe as well. The fact that I know my way around at least part of the city is really amazing. I wish I could have posted more on my afternoon of wandering, but words really do escape me. It was, all in all, the defining experience of the orientation.
As I explained before, they say if you throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain, you'll come back to Rome. I had my half-euro coin in my hand and my back turned to the fountain, but ended up pocketing it and walking away. This is mostly because I'm poor, cannot get a job here and am quickly realizing that change is actually valuable here, but also because I know I'm coming back, and I don't need any help making that choice.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Rome: Day 1
Let me begin by saying that the day that I become rich is the day that I never fly coach again. I will continue to buy my clothing at Marshall's and buy store brand food, I will drive a car with good mileage and get my hair cut at the same place I have for twenty years, but I will not fly coach.
As you may have surmised from my opening, my flight was a rough one. Seated right next to the wing, it was difficult to cope with the noise of the jets right next to me. The guy in front of me pulled his seat way too far back and I myself tried to make a decent effort to not recline more than one notch or so, mainly because the girl who was sitting behind me is actually in the program, and I thought it best to not make uncomfortable the only person I knew for thousands and thousands of miles. When it was all said and done, I hadn't slept at all during the eight hour flight.
After finally navigating our way out of the airport, we met the rest of our program and boarded the bus into Rome. It's difficult to describe how I felt at the time, as exhaustion was nearly overpowering all my other emotions. The ride itself was very comfortable, and a welcome break from the confines of an airliner. During our short trip from the airport to the hotel, our program director, Michelle, did her best to point out as much as she could. The first thing that struck me was the architecture. Every building is cool. Every single one. The blending of contemporary buildings with ancient ones is seamless, and though some are in need of slight repair, they're all in all on par with the buildings in any American city.
Driving in, we passed a gas station. If I remember correctly, the price was fourteen euros or so a liter. That's roughly 20 dollars. So yeah, it could be way worse.
When we finally arrived at the hotel (Hotel Tiziano, located almost in the direct center of Rome), Michelle gave us a few minutes to put our stuff in our rooms before reporting back downstairs for a practical tour. As the lone guy in the program, I've got my own room. It's small by American standards, but it's got all I need and is nice and quiet at the end of the day. Also, it's got a little terrace, too.
The practical tour consisted of a short walk around the area of the hotel. Michelle made sure we knew where to find the closest ATM (bancomat), exchange office, pharmacy (farmacia) and tobacco store, which serve in Italy as a sort of general store. After the tour, we split off. I came back to the hotel and showered and changed, then another student and I went for a walk around the area. I had my first taste of gelato (think really really good ice cream, then think of ice cream that's even better than that and comes in all sorts of cool flavors) and found out how much Romans really love their public water displays. There are fountains everywhere, as well as these little water spout things that are sort of drinking fountains that just pour onto the ground and are going constantly. I refilled a bottle of water from it after I saw an Italian do it. It was surprisingly cold and acceptable tasting, and way more free than any other option.
We continued walking around and eventually just kind of tripped into the Pantheon. We walked around a corner and didn't have a full view of the building, but saw a bunch of people going in. After musing on what it could be, we decided to just walk in and find out ("Oh shit, it's the Pantheon"). The building itself is incredible, with a massive dome that has a hole at the top (there's no cover, so it actually rains through it inside the building when it rains outside and drains located on the floor allow the water to seep out), and the fact that Raphael (the turtle) is entombed there is pretty cool too. As a temple dedicated to pretty much all gods (the ancient Romans weren't ones to offend) the building also serves as a church, as well as a memorial to two of Italy's kings, Vittorio Emmanuelle II and Nick Colasanto.
We also came upon the ruins of Argentina, which are right up the street from the hotel. I really don't know any history behind the ruins (other than that Caesar got shanked nearby), but I DO know that the ruins now double as a shelter for stray cats, immunizing and fixing them, as well as putting them up for adoption. We counted ten or so cats from one spot before moving on, but there's plenty more.
After a while, the heat began to get to be too much for us, so we headed back to the hotel to relax until orientation and dinner. Despite my best efforts to stay awake in order to shake of jet lag as soon as possible, I ended up falling asleep on my tiny twin bed for about an hour, during which the closing ceremony in Beijing spurred strange and unpleasant dreams involving me running in the Olympics and not being any faster.
After accepting the bronze in an event with only two competitors, showering and reporting to the lobby, we headed out for the orientation meeting. It basically consisted of "Be safe, have fun, call us if you need help," as expected, but we got these cool keychain flashlights, so it was worth it. We then walked to a nearby pizzeria.
Pizza here is difficult to compare to pizza back in the States. Though I began eating it with a fork and knife, once the girl across from me started using her hands, I came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, not breaking any social rules to eat the pizza the way I was used to (or at least that I wouldn't be the only one looking stupid). The ingredients were fresher by far, and the mozzarella was heaped on in gobs of cheesy, cheesy goodness. The sauce was perfect and the crust was the perfect medium between crunchy and soft. The biggest difference I noticed, however, was an apparent lack of grease. My fingertips weren't all grody by the end of the meal and I wasn't experiencing the usual sensation of needing to wash my mouthal area. It's almost a different food here.
After dinner, we stopped back at the hotel to drop stuff off and wash up. The eight of us then walked back out into the city and headed towards Campio de Fiori ("Field of Flowers") for an evening stroll, which is a common custom here in Italy. Campio de Fiori itself is a large square that serves as an open-air market during the mornings. At night, however, all the restaurants and bars bring out their tables and chairs and the area bristles with activity. It's not, as you might imagine, a seedy place either. Though the bars spill over into the square, the crowds are much tamer than in a typical American bar, and families walk the area safely and contently. The only disturbance came from one crowd that was watching a soccer game, and it manifested itself as nothing more than a cheer after a particularly good shot for a goal.
Upon returning to my room, sleep finally took me, and I passed out. I awoke the next day and had breakfast, then we departed for a walking tour and a bus tour.
The first part of the tour was filled with a bunch of stuff I've already described to you. Of note, however, was the Trevi Fountain. It tells the story of the Roman aqueduct, and is incredibly massive and ornate. Legend says that if you toss a coin over your shoulder into the fountain, you'll return to Rome some day. Local jokers say that two coins mean you'll get married, three mean you'll get divorced and four mean you'll get rid of your mother-in-law.
I'll continue on with my story later, as it's now 2 AM here. I've spent a very long night doing my best to make sure my fairer companions didn't do anything... er... rash, and I'm very tired.
Part two will include my solo trip through Rome, my fooding, and my experiences with the locals (ranging from very friendly and helpful to very, very sketchy).
As you may have surmised from my opening, my flight was a rough one. Seated right next to the wing, it was difficult to cope with the noise of the jets right next to me. The guy in front of me pulled his seat way too far back and I myself tried to make a decent effort to not recline more than one notch or so, mainly because the girl who was sitting behind me is actually in the program, and I thought it best to not make uncomfortable the only person I knew for thousands and thousands of miles. When it was all said and done, I hadn't slept at all during the eight hour flight.
After finally navigating our way out of the airport, we met the rest of our program and boarded the bus into Rome. It's difficult to describe how I felt at the time, as exhaustion was nearly overpowering all my other emotions. The ride itself was very comfortable, and a welcome break from the confines of an airliner. During our short trip from the airport to the hotel, our program director, Michelle, did her best to point out as much as she could. The first thing that struck me was the architecture. Every building is cool. Every single one. The blending of contemporary buildings with ancient ones is seamless, and though some are in need of slight repair, they're all in all on par with the buildings in any American city.
Driving in, we passed a gas station. If I remember correctly, the price was fourteen euros or so a liter. That's roughly 20 dollars. So yeah, it could be way worse.
When we finally arrived at the hotel (Hotel Tiziano, located almost in the direct center of Rome), Michelle gave us a few minutes to put our stuff in our rooms before reporting back downstairs for a practical tour. As the lone guy in the program, I've got my own room. It's small by American standards, but it's got all I need and is nice and quiet at the end of the day. Also, it's got a little terrace, too.
The practical tour consisted of a short walk around the area of the hotel. Michelle made sure we knew where to find the closest ATM (bancomat), exchange office, pharmacy (farmacia) and tobacco store, which serve in Italy as a sort of general store. After the tour, we split off. I came back to the hotel and showered and changed, then another student and I went for a walk around the area. I had my first taste of gelato (think really really good ice cream, then think of ice cream that's even better than that and comes in all sorts of cool flavors) and found out how much Romans really love their public water displays. There are fountains everywhere, as well as these little water spout things that are sort of drinking fountains that just pour onto the ground and are going constantly. I refilled a bottle of water from it after I saw an Italian do it. It was surprisingly cold and acceptable tasting, and way more free than any other option.
We continued walking around and eventually just kind of tripped into the Pantheon. We walked around a corner and didn't have a full view of the building, but saw a bunch of people going in. After musing on what it could be, we decided to just walk in and find out ("Oh shit, it's the Pantheon"). The building itself is incredible, with a massive dome that has a hole at the top (there's no cover, so it actually rains through it inside the building when it rains outside and drains located on the floor allow the water to seep out), and the fact that Raphael (the turtle) is entombed there is pretty cool too. As a temple dedicated to pretty much all gods (the ancient Romans weren't ones to offend) the building also serves as a church, as well as a memorial to two of Italy's kings, Vittorio Emmanuelle II and Nick Colasanto.
We also came upon the ruins of Argentina, which are right up the street from the hotel. I really don't know any history behind the ruins (other than that Caesar got shanked nearby), but I DO know that the ruins now double as a shelter for stray cats, immunizing and fixing them, as well as putting them up for adoption. We counted ten or so cats from one spot before moving on, but there's plenty more.
After a while, the heat began to get to be too much for us, so we headed back to the hotel to relax until orientation and dinner. Despite my best efforts to stay awake in order to shake of jet lag as soon as possible, I ended up falling asleep on my tiny twin bed for about an hour, during which the closing ceremony in Beijing spurred strange and unpleasant dreams involving me running in the Olympics and not being any faster.
After accepting the bronze in an event with only two competitors, showering and reporting to the lobby, we headed out for the orientation meeting. It basically consisted of "Be safe, have fun, call us if you need help," as expected, but we got these cool keychain flashlights, so it was worth it. We then walked to a nearby pizzeria.
Pizza here is difficult to compare to pizza back in the States. Though I began eating it with a fork and knife, once the girl across from me started using her hands, I came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, not breaking any social rules to eat the pizza the way I was used to (or at least that I wouldn't be the only one looking stupid). The ingredients were fresher by far, and the mozzarella was heaped on in gobs of cheesy, cheesy goodness. The sauce was perfect and the crust was the perfect medium between crunchy and soft. The biggest difference I noticed, however, was an apparent lack of grease. My fingertips weren't all grody by the end of the meal and I wasn't experiencing the usual sensation of needing to wash my mouthal area. It's almost a different food here.
After dinner, we stopped back at the hotel to drop stuff off and wash up. The eight of us then walked back out into the city and headed towards Campio de Fiori ("Field of Flowers") for an evening stroll, which is a common custom here in Italy. Campio de Fiori itself is a large square that serves as an open-air market during the mornings. At night, however, all the restaurants and bars bring out their tables and chairs and the area bristles with activity. It's not, as you might imagine, a seedy place either. Though the bars spill over into the square, the crowds are much tamer than in a typical American bar, and families walk the area safely and contently. The only disturbance came from one crowd that was watching a soccer game, and it manifested itself as nothing more than a cheer after a particularly good shot for a goal.
Upon returning to my room, sleep finally took me, and I passed out. I awoke the next day and had breakfast, then we departed for a walking tour and a bus tour.
The first part of the tour was filled with a bunch of stuff I've already described to you. Of note, however, was the Trevi Fountain. It tells the story of the Roman aqueduct, and is incredibly massive and ornate. Legend says that if you toss a coin over your shoulder into the fountain, you'll return to Rome some day. Local jokers say that two coins mean you'll get married, three mean you'll get divorced and four mean you'll get rid of your mother-in-law.
I'll continue on with my story later, as it's now 2 AM here. I've spent a very long night doing my best to make sure my fairer companions didn't do anything... er... rash, and I'm very tired.
Part two will include my solo trip through Rome, my fooding, and my experiences with the locals (ranging from very friendly and helpful to very, very sketchy).
Saturday, August 23, 2008
First Post
As I sit under the departure board and wait for my flight to arrive, I've decided to put up my first post.
I don't have grand ambitions for this blog, let's get that straight. I intend to use it primarily as a way to show you how my life is going in a completely new and exciting place. I intend to post as often as possible, but as my access to the Internet will be sporadic at best, regularity may be a bit of a pipe dream.
As for the nature of my posts, I'm going to try and keep them relatively neat and tidy. I'm going to try and write in some semblance of a journalistic style. However, this is NOT a professional blog and I will most likely be injecting a healthy amount of, er... "personality" into my posts.
In addition to the written posts, I'll be trying to keep you supplied with plenty of photographs. I brought both of my cameras...
...but just realized that I forgot my cables for them. Shit. I guess I'll have to buy another set...
Anyways, however I manage to upload my pictures (and I assure you, I will), I'll be uploading as many as appropriate to this site. I'm also going to post them on Facebook for those of you who have it. I'm considering getting a second Flickr account to put up some for the rest of you, and I'll keep you posted on it.
The name of this blog is a bit cheesy (okay, so it's really cheesy), but there's a story behind it. As some of you may know, I have great faith in the power of shuffle. As I hadn't been able to come up with a suitable name on my own, I decided to trust in my iPod for inspiration. Driving home from Orleans the other day, I put my entire library on shuffle and decided to go through five or six songs to see what struck me. After coming to the difficult decision that neither "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt.1" or "Mona's Pizza" were suitable names for a blog (though "American Gigolo" had some promise, I ultimately decided against it), I'd almost given up. One more click brought the sounds of ELO to the radio, and though I did decide that, if I were one of you, I'd certainly make fun of me, "Calling America" was just too perfect a fit, and for some of us (read: me), breaking the rule of Shuffle is tantamount to heresy. It also leaves the door open for some of our other friends traveling the world to contribute guest articles once and a while without having the title not match.
People have been asking me all summer if I was nervous, and I have been answering with a simple "No" all summer. It's true. I've thought it over and over again, and have come to the conclusion that I am really, truly not nervous. I am excited. I am very ready for this, and I know that, no matter what problem arises, I can handle it.
In about an hour, I get on a plane (along with about fifty pounds of assorted stuff) to go farther away than I have ever been from home for longer than I have ever been from home. I leave to go to a place where no one speaks my language, where the culture runs at a different pace and to different patterns, where they drive about a million miles an hour and brake for nothing. Strange foods, strange customs, strange people.
And you know what? I can't wait.
I'll see you in December.
-Frank
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