There are many cultural do's and don'ts I've observed in Italy.
DO
get dressed up, all the time
drink espresso instead of eating breakfast
look angry all the time when walking down the street
stand really close to everyone, everywhere
ride a vespa in stiletto's
(girls) hold hands with your friends. I don't get it.
pay for whatever food you want before you go to the counter to get it
use 5 people to do a 1 person job
show a lot of PDA
attend protests
DO NOT
eat or drink while walking
acknowledge anything a man says to you on the street. Even if he is right next to you, yelling in your ear, just act like he doesn't exist and he'll go away soon
drink cappucino except in the morning. Huge faux pas
run. ever. even if that car looks like it's going to hit you, just walk
get drunk
slowly sip an espresso. Drink it in a few quick sips
sweat
show cleavage. No one has boobs
use a washing machine/dryer
That's all for now, I have to go do homework : ( I'll add more if I think about them.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
crossing the street
Crossing the street is an art form.
Sure, you can wait for the little walking man to light up green and allow you to go. But what do you do when confronted with cars whizzing by in monstrous traffic, the need to cross the street, and no pedestrian light? The italians simply dive right in.
So what if there's a truck headed straight at you? Just walk into the street. Italian drivers have an uncanny ability to gauge how long it will take you to cross the street. For the love of God do not get scared and stop. Then you'll get it. Keep walking, and they fly on behind you. They also don't seem to like threshhold breaking. No one stops until they absolutely have to (meaning 3 feet from your leg). The trick is to just go. Don't look at them, don't make eye contact. Just go. Seriously.
This morning I went for a run around the Vatican. Yeah, it's kind of cool that I ran the circumference of an entire country this morning. But I digress. Even at 8:30 in the morning, there are crowds of tourists. I came to an intersection a few blocks from the Vatican where the cars where passing non-stop. I noticed a group of tourists (German?). They stood at the crosswalk looking extremely confused and a tad disgruntled. Feeling quite proud of myself, I simply ran straight into traffic as the tourists gawked. The cars stopped, and I made it to the other side unscathed, without breaking my stride. Now I am no pro at this. It scares the crap out of me most of the time. However, I want to absorb as much of this culture as I can, so I'll run into traffic if it makes me seem more like a local.
However, my bubble burst today when I went to the open air market near il mio apartamento, ordered my bread in Italian, and the girl behind the counter said "Two euro's. Do you want a bag?"
Sure, you can wait for the little walking man to light up green and allow you to go. But what do you do when confronted with cars whizzing by in monstrous traffic, the need to cross the street, and no pedestrian light? The italians simply dive right in.
So what if there's a truck headed straight at you? Just walk into the street. Italian drivers have an uncanny ability to gauge how long it will take you to cross the street. For the love of God do not get scared and stop. Then you'll get it. Keep walking, and they fly on behind you. They also don't seem to like threshhold breaking. No one stops until they absolutely have to (meaning 3 feet from your leg). The trick is to just go. Don't look at them, don't make eye contact. Just go. Seriously.
This morning I went for a run around the Vatican. Yeah, it's kind of cool that I ran the circumference of an entire country this morning. But I digress. Even at 8:30 in the morning, there are crowds of tourists. I came to an intersection a few blocks from the Vatican where the cars where passing non-stop. I noticed a group of tourists (German?). They stood at the crosswalk looking extremely confused and a tad disgruntled. Feeling quite proud of myself, I simply ran straight into traffic as the tourists gawked. The cars stopped, and I made it to the other side unscathed, without breaking my stride. Now I am no pro at this. It scares the crap out of me most of the time. However, I want to absorb as much of this culture as I can, so I'll run into traffic if it makes me seem more like a local.
However, my bubble burst today when I went to the open air market near il mio apartamento, ordered my bread in Italian, and the girl behind the counter said "Two euro's. Do you want a bag?"
Thursday, September 4, 2008
finally
Well, I'm here! I arrived early tuesday morning hauled all my luggage (1 suitcase, 1 duffle, 1 backpack) to a large "T" representing temple university. Although it was about 3 am U.S. time, I wasn't too tired since I passed out for almost the entire flight. They put five of us in a van to the "residence" on Medaglie D'oro, 73. The ride was completely surreal.
I found my arpartment and put my stuff in the tiny bedroom that I would soon share with two other girls. They weren't there yet, so I made a friend, showered, and set out for two of the most beautiful things in the world; the Vatican and gelato.
Immediately walking down the street from il mio apartamento I could see the dome peeking out between the yellow and orange buildings. We stopped at "Old Bridge," a gelateria that rivals Giolitti's (and it's within 7 min. of my apartment). My first Italian language exchange . . . I was nervous, I seemed to forget half of what I've learned in Italian over the past two years . . . Then I spoke, the man understood, and I got my gelato. All in italian. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I ordered fragola, limone, e nutella. Benissima.
Gelato in hand, we crossed the street to the vatican and sat in the shade of Bernini's columns. It all looked fake. I could NOT believe that I was there!! I still cannot believe I am here : )
We wanderd the square, finished our gelato, and started to feel the jet lag. One look at the long line into the basilica, roasting in the sun, and we decided to go back.
As silly as is sounds, it's so weird that everyone is speaking italian all the time. I have been preparing for this adventure for months . . . almost a year. Yet, I am embarassed to say, I feel a little culture shock. It's different to think, "Wow, I am going to be here for months, a part of this culture. Not simply observing it for a few weeks and then going home."
I finally met my roommates, Merideth and Allison, when I got back. They're nice, and we should get along fine. Although I miss my roomies at home! After a pizza party at the temple campus (which is a gorgeous walk crossing the tiber), I played tourleader and walked around with my new peeps. Dad would be proud of my navigation skills : ) We saw the Piazza di Popolo, the Spanish Steps, Via Condotti, and back to the Vatican. Walking back to the Vatican, crossing the Tiber at dusk is one of the most incredible images of my life. It glitters. Seriously. Does not even look like it can be real.
I found my arpartment and put my stuff in the tiny bedroom that I would soon share with two other girls. They weren't there yet, so I made a friend, showered, and set out for two of the most beautiful things in the world; the Vatican and gelato.
Immediately walking down the street from il mio apartamento I could see the dome peeking out between the yellow and orange buildings. We stopped at "Old Bridge," a gelateria that rivals Giolitti's (and it's within 7 min. of my apartment). My first Italian language exchange . . . I was nervous, I seemed to forget half of what I've learned in Italian over the past two years . . . Then I spoke, the man understood, and I got my gelato. All in italian. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I ordered fragola, limone, e nutella. Benissima.
Gelato in hand, we crossed the street to the vatican and sat in the shade of Bernini's columns. It all looked fake. I could NOT believe that I was there!! I still cannot believe I am here : )
We wanderd the square, finished our gelato, and started to feel the jet lag. One look at the long line into the basilica, roasting in the sun, and we decided to go back.
As silly as is sounds, it's so weird that everyone is speaking italian all the time. I have been preparing for this adventure for months . . . almost a year. Yet, I am embarassed to say, I feel a little culture shock. It's different to think, "Wow, I am going to be here for months, a part of this culture. Not simply observing it for a few weeks and then going home."
I finally met my roommates, Merideth and Allison, when I got back. They're nice, and we should get along fine. Although I miss my roomies at home! After a pizza party at the temple campus (which is a gorgeous walk crossing the tiber), I played tourleader and walked around with my new peeps. Dad would be proud of my navigation skills : ) We saw the Piazza di Popolo, the Spanish Steps, Via Condotti, and back to the Vatican. Walking back to the Vatican, crossing the Tiber at dusk is one of the most incredible images of my life. It glitters. Seriously. Does not even look like it can be real.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
one week!
604,800 seconds. 10,080 minutes. 168 hours. 7 days. ONE WEEK.
One week until I am living in Rome. I don't know if it's the unusually high dose of caffeine from my espresso doppio addiction, the enchanting yet hilarious words from Barzini's "The Italians" I am currently reading, the refreshing feeling of sitting on the porch in glorious not-too-hot, not-too-cold weather, or the combination of all three that have finally replaced the "I am going to vomit" nerves with the "I am going to burst with happiness and excitement" feeling.
Perhaps it's the realization that I going to my "homeland," the place where I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. When I'm in Italy, it's hard for me to be sad, upset, angry, or any of those most un-italian feelings (Although anger is most Italian, and there is an abundance of it. But somehow those hilarious tempers just add to the country's appeal.)
I just cannot help but feel so grateful when I'm in Italy. All the times I've gone, it has never become less impressive or magical. I don't deserve to be there, but somehow I keep making my way back and having the time of my life each time. Magically, I get to spend the upcoming months in this glorious place. Sitting at a cafe with my espresso, reading a book about my favorite place, in my favorite place, speaking and hearing music in the form of words, contemplating the people who traversed this same spot thousands of years ago. The most incredible art, history, culture, wine, food, all in one place. Is that really allowed?
Somehow I keep forgetting that I'm taking classes : )
One week until I am living in Rome. I don't know if it's the unusually high dose of caffeine from my espresso doppio addiction, the enchanting yet hilarious words from Barzini's "The Italians" I am currently reading, the refreshing feeling of sitting on the porch in glorious not-too-hot, not-too-cold weather, or the combination of all three that have finally replaced the "I am going to vomit" nerves with the "I am going to burst with happiness and excitement" feeling.
Perhaps it's the realization that I going to my "homeland," the place where I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. When I'm in Italy, it's hard for me to be sad, upset, angry, or any of those most un-italian feelings (Although anger is most Italian, and there is an abundance of it. But somehow those hilarious tempers just add to the country's appeal.)
I just cannot help but feel so grateful when I'm in Italy. All the times I've gone, it has never become less impressive or magical. I don't deserve to be there, but somehow I keep making my way back and having the time of my life each time. Magically, I get to spend the upcoming months in this glorious place. Sitting at a cafe with my espresso, reading a book about my favorite place, in my favorite place, speaking and hearing music in the form of words, contemplating the people who traversed this same spot thousands of years ago. The most incredible art, history, culture, wine, food, all in one place. Is that really allowed?
Somehow I keep forgetting that I'm taking classes : )
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Wow-first blog EVER!
Hello friends and perhaps some strangers!
So many people asked me to send updates of my time in Europe in an e-mail list. Well, I've been learning about blogs and decided this would be a much better option for everyone. That way you don't get e-mails from me you don't want, and people that do care can just check up on me :)
I hope to update regulary, but we shall see how many people actually ready this and how often I want to be on the computer. I will try to give everyone a good idea of what life is like in the ancient monster of a place that is Rome, and let you know what I am up to. Plans for the semester include:
- Prague
- Amsterdam
- Athens
- Octoberfest
- Salzburg
If I get over there and it seems like I'm slacking, please yell at me and tell me to drop the gelato and work on my list. Ok, that's all for now. I should be doing homework
So many people asked me to send updates of my time in Europe in an e-mail list. Well, I've been learning about blogs and decided this would be a much better option for everyone. That way you don't get e-mails from me you don't want, and people that do care can just check up on me :)
I hope to update regulary, but we shall see how many people actually ready this and how often I want to be on the computer. I will try to give everyone a good idea of what life is like in the ancient monster of a place that is Rome, and let you know what I am up to. Plans for the semester include:
- Prague
- Amsterdam
- Athens
- Octoberfest
- Salzburg
If I get over there and it seems like I'm slacking, please yell at me and tell me to drop the gelato and work on my list. Ok, that's all for now. I should be doing homework
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