Canals of Venice

            Last Saturday, we went to Venice, which was absolutely incredible. Everyone told me it would be full of tourists, which is mostly true, but that didn’t really detract from the beauty of the city. Really, tourists were only an issue in the city’s center, Piazza San Marco, where crowdedness made it hard to walk.  Elsewhere, it was fine. And, even the Piazza San Marco was stunning. Getting there from the train station was definitely a challenge. There were many signs to Piazza San Marco, but we would follow the series of signs, and then not see any for a while, as if we had lost the trail. Then, we might see another sign, but they all seemed to be pointing different ways. I guess we definitely took the “scenic route” to the city’s center. I have no problem with this, as the journey was just as remarkable as the destination. But one touristy t-shirt summed up our thoughts perfectly: it had the words “Piazza San Marco,” and below them, two arrows pointing in opposite directions.

View from the Tower

             Once in the city’s center, we had lunch, and then, went to Piazza San Marco’s bell tower, which overlooked the city. In the tower, I was surprised to be showed into an elevator; in Florence’s bell tower, we had to climb every step to the very top.  Speaking in Italian, I asked the elevator worker if it was possible to take the stairs to the top, to which he replied “no.” I asked why not, and he said, “because an elevator is more practical.” I joked, “but that’s too easy.” The view from the top definitely did feel like an undeserved treat. As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I was breathless; the whole city lay before me. I took a lot of pictures. The city as a whole was just as picturesque as the view from every little bridge traversing a canal. 

Streets of Venice

Venice Streets

             I’ve been to Venice once before, when I went to Italy for the first time. I was only 5 years old, and I don’t really remember any of it. But I do have one picture of me sitting in a gondola, looking a little bored, but nevertheless content. Now, back on the bridges of Venice, I would watch gondolas go by, and think of me as a kid. Now, I was more than content; I loved everything about Venice, even though I didn’t take an expensive gondola ride. I guess I can appreciate the experience more now that I’m older. I think Venice is pretty much a perfect city. There’s no noise, since there are no cars. The entire city smells amazing, from all the restaurants and bakeries. Every scene of Venice is perfect, from the pastel-colored houses, the blue of the canals and sky, the bridges and architecture, the view from the bell tower. I hope to one day return, and look back not only on my childhood picture, but also on my memories of last Saturday, and be able to assess my growth since both experiences.

Students at the Top of the Gardens

             Also notable this week was our trips on Wednesday to the Palazzo Pitti and Boboli Gardens, and on Thursday, to the Villa Sesto. The Villa Sesto and Palazzo Pitti were both once homes of the extremely wealthy Medici family, which ruled Florence several hundred years ago. While the Palazzo Pitti has been turned into a museum, the Villa Sesto has simply remained a home, so its deluxe bedrooms and dining rooms are still intact. In either case, it’s amazing to see the conditions in which they lived. The ceilings of each room are covered in complex frescoes and intricate wood carvings, and the walls are covered with silk. Perhaps more amazing than each palace, however, was their respective “backyards”. The Giardino di Boboli is a vast garden full of trees, hedges, flowers, and one lake, behind the Pitti Palace. We went more or less straight through the garden, all the way to the top. This hike probably took about 20 minutes, and I would guess we saw about one fifth of the whole garden. From the top, we could see downtown Florence in the distance on one side, and the hilltop town of Fiesole on the other. The garden of the Villa Sesto was a lot smaller, but probably more beautiful. The hedges formed intricate patterns where they lined

The Backyard Hedges

 pathways, flower gardens, and the central fountain. There was a huge view of downtown Florence, and the mansion itself was beautiful. It was a great way to spend our last afternoon in Florence, but it makes me really sad to leave. This month has gone by extremely fast, but it’s had quite an effect on me.  I’ve gotten much better at Italian; my host mom even told me so at dinner a few nights ago. I really can think in Italian, instead of having to first translate to English to reach a meaning. I even dreamed in Italian last night; I don’t really remember exactly what happened, but I remember explaining something in Italian.  Sometimes, someone will speak to me in Italian, and I won’t even realize it’s Italian. I’ll only know the meaning, and not distinguish the language with which this meaning was delivered. Also, I’ve gotten to know this city a lot better, in addition to the other people in my group. Nik and I are already talking about a Euro-trip next summer. This has been a great month. I love this city, my group members, and Italy in general. I’m going back as soon as I can. And, I have some big expectations for this weekend in Rome.

Cinque Terre, Towns on the Beach

             Last Saturday, we went to Cinque Terre, which was one of the best days of this trip so far. It is a strip of coast with five (cinque) picturesque little towns spread across a few miles. Each town is set right on the beach, with little houses and shops rising up the cliffs.  Their facades range from yellow to orange and red to pastel blue, so, from the ocean, each town looks like a mosaic. From the first town, Monterosso, we bought tickets for the boat, which could take us to and from all five towns. The boat ride was amazing. Each new city was an incredible sight. Of course, I took lots of pictures. We got off the boat on its last stop in a small town called Riomaggiore. Here, we went up the main street, a steep ascent upward from the sea. Among the town’s multicolored buildings were many restaurants, souvenir shops, bakeries, cheese stores, and even places to buy scuba diving equipment. After exploring for a while, we sat down for a nice lunch, as the next boat wasn’t coming for an hour or so. As we waited for the boat on the dock, I went for a quick swim. The water was very refreshing, after the heat of the day.

Manarola

             We took the boat back to Manarola, and then eventually Monterosso. At each town, we walked around, maybe had a snack, and just explored. At Manarola, I am proud to say that I dove off a cliff that was at least 30 feet high. My years of diving training back in middle school paid off. Back at Monterosso, my friends and I went swimming at the beach. It was actually a nice, sandy beach, and the water was just the right amount of cool. It was a nice swim, but unfortunately, the bus came to take us home all too soon.

             Also notable this week was our day trip to Pisa. We wanted to go on Sunday, but a train strike prevented us. Instead, we went Tuesday afternoon. We had heard it all before: there’s nothing to do in Pisa except see the leaning tower. So, I wasn’t too surprised to see that Pisa is just a lot like Florence, except that it’s more desolate and less charming. However, the leaning tower didn’t disappoint. As we finished our walk across Pisa, and glimpsed the approaching tower, we all had the same obvious reaction: “Wow, it really is leaning.” There’s something about a leaning tower that really takes you by surprise. Anyway, of course, Rachel had to take the terribly cliché picture of her holding up the tower.  Me and Nik, on the other hand, refused to conform, and instead just took a picture of us standing in front of the tower, arms crossed, and of course, not smiling. Probably the best picture that day wasn’t of us or the tower; it was of the grassy field in front of the tower, full of tourists striking ridiculous poses.

That's my name

             Really, in Italy, every day is a good day. We have our crazy nights in the discoteca. But even when we don’t, Nik and I just sit on the duomo steps and chill. We talk to each other, and to random people sitting next to us. We constantly meet new people this way, and sometimes even see these people we just met randomly again on the street. Florence has a remarkable characteristic that I’ve recognized, and so have many others I’ve talked to: it’s a big city, but, when you live there and walk through its streets, you constantly see people you know. I’ve met friends and classmates on the street by chance countless times. I even run into my identical twin brother, who is also studying in Florence, but with a different program. Our group mates didn’t know we were twins, and their looks of shock and disbelief at seeing double were priceless. Every night in Florence is a good night, because there’s always something to do, and there’s always people to meet, whether you knew them beforehand or not.

Quiet Garden in Sienna

A few days ago, we took a public bus from Florence to Sienna, a small, quiet town south of Florence.  It was a refreshing break from the noise and crowds of Florence, as Siena is much less touristy.  There was still a lot to see: the town’s central square was beautiful, surrounded by small restaurants shops, and a very large cathedral.  There was less terra cotta, and instead, many of the buildings had a castle-like feel.  All over the town were reminders of the recent horse race, the dominant sport event and rallying call of Siena.  The town is divided into four quarters, and twice every year, they all challenge each other in a race called the Palio.  When we went to Sienna, the race had happened two days ago, so it was still a hot topic.  Pictures of the race were posted on many buildings.  The flags of each quarter were still raised high.  At one point, the winning quarter paraded through the street, singing, chanting and beating on drums.  For lunch, we tried the famous procuttio di cinghiale, a type of boar meet, which was a little unusual but still really good.

Euro Trash T-Shirts

Also fun was our trip to the Barberino outlet mall.  In an attempt to fully pull off the “eurotrash” look, my roommate and I each bought a pair of suave, Italian-guy jeans and a colorful, too-tight t-shirt.  I’m starting to fit in more, mentally as well.  Instead of being starving by 5:30, I can now wait for the late-evening Italian dinners. I think in euros, instead of doing a rough mental conversion to dollars before every purchase.  I even

Rooftops of Florence

 think in Italian more often; sometimes I’ll have a thought and the words will come to me in Italian before English.  I love this experience because it is really immersing me in the Italian lifestyle.  I feel like a local more than a tourist.  As my friend’s host mom said, “You’re not a tourist if you’re staying for more than a week,” and I couldn’t agree more.  This feels like home to me, and Italy is a place I could really get used to.

Sienna

View of Sienna

Roman Bridge over the River

             I love Italy!  I’ve only been here three days, but I already know it. Time has passed so strangely: though it seems like forever since I left the States, at the same time, these three days have flown by.

              Italy is starting to feel more natural for me. The daily walk to school is more a customary passage and less a confusing and harrowing trial of our navigational skills, street smarts, and ability to ask for directions in Italian. I know to always close the shutters in my room at night, as flies and mosquitoes make it hard to sleep. I know not to respond to Italian street vendors, since they don’t take no for an answer, unless I truly want a pair of white “euro-trash” shades. I also know that Italian gelato is more amazing than any ice cream in the United States. 

AYUSA Study Abroad Students in Italy

                I’ve started to take Italian lessons, at the nearby Italian language school. I already know a little, so I took the placement test to skip level one, and passed. Now, I’m taking a more advanced class, with other people outside the AYUSA group. It’s a good way to expand meet new people outside of the six in my program, though my little group is still great. I was instant friends with my roommate, and we have a great time together. There are some other interesting people in my group that we spend time with often. We’ve also met a few people beyond our group, through our classes, who we hang out with in our free time.

Florence from the Piazza Michelangelo

                 Our daily excursions have been great. Today, we walked past the Duomo, to the ponte vecchio, and then through some pleasant alleys and quiet streets, until we ended up at the foot of an very  intimidating large hill. A worn rock staircase led to the top. It was a long hike to the summit, but after much blood, sweat and tears (well, mainly just sweat) we arrived at the piazza Michelangelo. From this ancient church, one could view the entirety of Florence. The Arno River flowed between the innumerable red and orange terra cotta rooftops, and, in the distance, the large domed roof of the Duomo rose above them as an easily visible landmark among the organized chaos of Florence. Just as I had mastered the walk to school, for a moment I felt as if I had conquered the entire city.

                 I also visited the Uffizi museum, containing famous paintings such as the Birth of Venus, the Grom Galeteria, which is supposed to serve Florence’s best gelato, and the Duomo, the huge and incredibly beautiful ancient Roman cathedral. It’s been the museums and the sights, the food and gelato, and the long walks through Florence’s picturesque streets and alleys that make me have to say it: I love Italy.

                 Of course, I am nervous about some things.  I think everyone is at least a little nervous some random disaster will happen, like missing a plane, or somehow getting totally separated from the group.  Getting hit by a car is also a legitimate worry, since, as rumor has it, Italian drivers are insane.  A friend of mine actually got hit by a taxi driver in Florence a few years ago, and got 21 stitches.  I hope I don’t suffer this fate as well.  However, if I do, at least I will be able to ask someone to take me to the hospital.

                 I have some more realistic fears as well.  My biggest one is that I won’t like my host family.  They could be stubborn and mean.  They could feed me nothing but squash or Brussels sprouts, and be upset if I don’t eat it. They could require that I go to bed at 8:00 every night (or should I say 20:00).  They could have little children that cry and keep me awake late into the night.  I realize I’m getting ridiculous here, but I still am worried that we could simply not get along.

                   However, I find it better to think about the positive.  There are countless ways this trip could be a great experience with no Brussels sprouts in sight.  My host family could be kind, flexible and helpful.  They could live in a beautiful villa, near picturesque vineyards and gardens.  They could have sons or daughters, close to my age, with whom I could become good friends.  They could live close to the heart of Florence, so I would have infinite opportunities to explore and discover new things.

                   In addition to getting along with my host family, I hope that I will make many friends.  Another area of uncertainty, however, is how close I will become with other students within this study abroad program.  Will we just be classmates, attending the same school, but then going home to different families every afternoon?  Or will we quickly become best friends? Will we do things together, like study, go on trips, and hang out, until we know each other like family?   Will we just see each other at school, or will we meet afterwards, and hang out in the city or at each other’s host houses? Obviously, I hope to develop close relationships with my fellow study abroad students. One of my hopes is that AYUSA Study Abroad will facilitate this as much as possible.

               Finally, I hope to become fluent in Italian.  I’m already conversational, but I hope to be able to say whatever I want to say, and to sound like a native.  I want to be able to make friends with not only American kids, but Italians too.  My grandma, who grew up in Russia and lived there for most of her life, always told me about a Russian saying, which, roughly translated, states that however many languages you can speak is how many people you are.  This summer, I hope to fulfill that new identity within me.  By experiencing the Italian language and culture, I will nurture a fascinating and as of yet undiscovered part of myself: the Italian.