6-19-07
CT 6:35 P.M.
IT 1:33 A.M.
Concerts and Kebabs.
Today was at least more eventful than yesterday, though it wouldn’t seem so at first glance.
This morning Rachel and I got around to meet at the school at 10:00. We ran a bit early, but it was kind of fun to just talk along the way. When we got to the school, we went inside and sat down, waiting on everyone else. When 10:00 came and went, we decided to go ahead and call Dr. Bane. I made Rachel do it because I didn’t feel like it, so the contents of the conversation had to be relayed to me. Paulette answered and asked why we didn’t get the text message. Then we both reminded her that my screen is messed up and Rachel’s phone has been lost to the depths of the Adriatic Sea (we think). She said that we didn’t have class until 2, so we basically had a free day. We had gotten around for nothing.
With some deliberation we decided to go up to the breakroom and finish working on our presentation. It didn’t take long, but we didn’t have anything else to do. We decided to call Halley on my broken phone. I could in the LCD strips that I could do a search feature, which I tried to do. I pressed call and handed it back to Rachel. It was Dr. Bane instead. Feeling like idiots, we got Halley’s number to find her. I called and she said that everyone else was still asleep but that she decided to go out and about. She told us to meet her at Piazza Signoria (which, by my approximation, is two feet from the school…. Approximately.). When we met up, someone had the bright idea to go and do the rest of our shopping at the San Lorenzo market.
When we got there, both of us started looking at wallets for people. They were very expensive (25 Euro for leather wallets made in Italy that were big enough to fit a checkbook in). Rachel was looking for a t-shirt for her sister, and I was looking to knock out some of the people on my list. That was all. I found a pair of “David” boxers (the statue’s nether regions are printed on both sides) and a “Ciao Bella” shirt for my mom’s friend’s daughter. A man tried to talk us into going to his stand. All I said was, “Buongiorno,” and he started talking to us in English. When we kept walking, he said, “No English? Dutch?” Halley and I just collapsed into giggles.
I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it already, but I have been looking frantically for a leather bag. I want one to look professional, hold some books, and be relatively cheap. My roommate talked someone down from over 100 Euro down to 40, but I’m not that savvy. I saw what I wanted though. An aura was shining behind it. But I knew it was too much so I walked on.
It began to bug me in the back of my mind. As I watched the other two shop, I started to feel antsy. I had been wanting it since I arrived in Italy. Since I saw my roommates green leather bag, I knew I wanted one. So I went back to the stand and asked how much (“Quanto?”). The man answered me in Italian (which is the fifth time I’ve been mistaken for such – kind of feels good). When he switched into English, he said 85 Euro. I shook my head, knowing that I could only put that much on a credit card and I didn’t really want to do that. Then he said, “if you’ll come with me, I have one that has more than one pocket. This one? Only one. The one I have is bigger. I’ll sell this one for 75, or you can take the other one which is usually 98 for 85.” I went with him to the store and fell in love with the bag immediately. It wasn’t huge, but it would fit what I needed (and would make me greatly reduce my carry load). He gave me the whole sales schtick: it’s made in Tuscany, really fine leather (and indeed it is), adjustable strap, and five pockets. I agreed to it. He charged it, and I walked away with a new bag.
Then I started feeling queasy in that special way that only happens when you’ve spent too much. I knew I loved the bag, but I wasn’t sure I had done the right thing. Shouldn’t I have tried to talk him down? He went down within the first few seconds of talking, so I certainly could have gotten him lower. Then I realized I had charged it, and usually vendors can only be talked down with cash. I cursed my luck but at the same time started feeling better for the bag. When I saw Dr. Bane that afternoon, he said that I had gotten a great price – which made me feel even better.
Rachel and I kept losing Halley in the market, but we finally met up long enough to part ways officially. Dr. Bane needed Rachel to find a receipt, so she went back to the apartment while Halley and I went to the Piazza Signoria to sit. She wrote in her journal while I read. She started eating, but a man came up to us and asked us if we spoke English. He then told us that we couldn’t eat near the statues – only water. So Halley had to sacrifice lunch for her seat, and we both sat amongst a mixture of 1st century and Renaissance sculpture.
At 1:00 I went ahead and went to the school, leaving Halley behind. When Rachel finally showed up (without the receipt that Dr. Bane needed), we wrote on the board the poems we were going to go over during class. I obsessed even more with my bag. Luckily Dr. Bane reassured me, as I mentioned earlier, and was surprised that I had gotten the reduced price even when I used a credit card.
Then Rachel and I did our presentation, which was actually really quick but sort of interesting (the poems we picked were almost definitely the best – Dr. Bane agreed). For instance:
43
Shall I each springtime
see flowery shadows floating
on the flowing stream,
and drench my sleeve in water that
refuses to be plucked?
656
In the waking world
you must, I suppose, take care,
but how it pains me
that you should keep out of sight
even in the realm of dreams.
And my favorite:
676
Pillows know, they say,
so we slept without one.
Why then do rumors
like swirling pillars of dust
rise as high as the heavens.
Very nice, right?
Anyway, after our presentation we wrapped up both classes. Dr. Bane took polls over the books we liked best and least. To his disappointment, I was the only one that liked If on a winter’s night a traveler (even though I didn’t get to finish it). When class was over, he told us to meet him at the school at 8:45 and we would go to some place special. All excited about the surprise, we all went our separate ways. Kim, Caitlin, Halley, and Natalie went to San Lorenzo again, but Rachel and I went back to the apartment. I have no idea what she did because I was “laaaaaame” and went to bed. I was exhausted, but it turned out to be a bad idea because of the heat.
Anyway, we headed toward the school. We went a weird way that we hadn’t gone yet and ran across Kate, Kara, and Megan. We waited on everyone. I gave Megan back her iPod, charged (she had given it to me earlier for that very reason). We all followed Dr. Bane to our destination – which happened to be one of the nightly concerts at a nearby church. The concerts go nightly and the proceeds go toward restoring the church (Dr. Bane said that some of the proceeds go to help the church where Beatrice is buried).
The concert was very good. Selections included Vivaldi, Bach, Schubert, and Mozart. They got a standing ovation and actually did a very beautiful encore. They announced it in Italian, but I have no idea what it was and wish I did. After the concert, which was a treat for all of us I think, Dr. Bane invited to go get gelato. I started to go with him, but I found out the others were going to get Doner Kebabs, which I can’t turn down. So I went with all of “the girls” to the kebab place near where we live (called “Mesopotamian Kebabs”) and mostly got doner kebabs con formaggio. Most of us agreed that it was our absolute favorite Mesopotamian/Egyptian/Middle Eastern place to eat that we’ve tried thus far. While we were ordering our kebabs, a drunk American came in and tried to cut in front of us so he could get a kebab. The man behind the counter told him no, ladies first, and took all six or seven of our orders before the other guy. The drunk cursed at him and said, “Dude, I gotta sober up to call my parents.” From the way he looked, no amount of kebab could do the trick.
We all talked about how good the kebabs were and miscellaneous subjects. We made tentative plans for tomorrow night since we have the first final tomorrow. I’ve decided not to study for it because it looks like it will be cheese compared to other tests I’ve taken. I read enough and listened enough to know. I’m not worried.
When I came back to the apartment, I started finishing the myriad entries I hadn’t gotten around to. Before I did today’s, I went ahead and took a bath, since the Italian mosquitos are like Italian lovers (contrary to how it looks, that is not a favorable comparison) and I needed some relief. Afterwards, I wrote this entry. And now I will finish it with a smirk of triumph that I’m caught up on all my personal entries.
Well, I am smirking.
Posted by
Unknown
9:03 AM
6-18-07
CT 5:45
IT 12:45
Slow Day at Santa Croce.
Today we met at 10:00 to go to Santa Croce (pronounced croh-chay). Rachel and I pass it almost every day on our way to the school, but we didn’t know that’s where we were going until after we had gotten all the way over to Kent State. When we headed back, we took the kind of sort of long way – but it wasn’t too bad of a walk, and we got to see places we hadn’t actually been to yet.
Santa Croce was one of my first fascinations when we first got to Florence. It was one of the first places my roommates and I found, and it was what started my fascination with the juxtaposition of the modern and the ancient, secular and non-secular. It also has some of the most beautiful motifs I’ve seen on any of the churches thus far. Around the door facings are depictions of biblical scenes and symbolism. At the top of the face of the church, there is a star within a Star of David with Christian symbolism decorating it. Santa Croce is well known because it was the home of Franciscan monks and – gasp – the resting place of the most famous people in Italian history, including Galileo Galilei, Niccolo Macchiavelli, and Michelangelo. It was one of my most anticipated stops on our four week tour of Italy, so I was especially excited.
Until I pulled out my camera and found out my batteries were dead.
Now for you to understand the irony of this, you must understand that I’ve been extremely obsessive about my batteries. When my camera doesn’t have to be on, I turn it off. My finger is constantly on the power button. I also have a huge obsession about having a truckload of batteries on me. However, when we went on the gondola ride in Venice, Kim’s batteries went out. I gave her two of mine to help out. She said her camera was messed up and tried to give them back to me, but I told her to keep them in case the camera started working again. Apparently (as Kim was quick to say to me later on) generosity killed the cat. So as I was trying to contain how upset I was, everyone else took pictures of all of the tombs (I’ve already mentioned that they’re my favorite part). I asked around, rather weakly and hopelessly, for AA batteries. Of course no one had any.
Then I went into the gift shop and found a book for 8 Euro. I didn’t want to get it because I had spent too much money, but since I couldn’t take pictures I decided I would go ahead and get it. I was completely disgusted with having to buy it in one of the few churches that allowed pictures. Then I remembered that I had one good battery left, and perhaps it could work with one of the dead batteries. Sure enough, it powered up and rendered my book worthless. I quickly snapped pictures of the tombs in the floor and some of the larger ones and more famous ones around the wall. There was even a memorial to Dante, whom Florence has been trying to get back from Ravenna for years now.
I ran through Santa Croce’s museum (it was only six rooms) and listened to the birds outside in the courtyard. Halley had found me before they all had left for the Ponte Vecchio to put their locks on the bridge* and given me their cheeses that they had bought for supper that night. I went to the grocery store, bought sauce, pasta, and milk (which I didn’t realize at the time expired on the 22nd so I ended up drinking it all in one day to keep it from spoiling – milk lasts about 3 or 4 days after it’s opened here), and went back up to the apartment. I stored Halley’s cheese and began reading more of Italo Calvino’s If on a winter’s night a traveler.
Of course I can’t read for more than 15 minutes (especially if it’s assigned) without feeling like I’m going to pass out, so without further ado I gave in to temptation. I slept for about 43 minutes. I had set my alarm for 45, but Rachel came in and clomped around enough that I decided to get up anyway. Class started at two, so we went together.
We listened to a presentation on Arabian Nights that was extremely confusing, but it wasn’t long enough to completely lose us. We finished going over the Decameron and went over all of Petrarch in class. Petrarch wrote in Italian sonnets, which Paulette came in to read to us in the original Italian. It was very pretty and very neat to hear. Then we went over A Farewell to Arms, which sparked a debate on love at first sight. I didn’t get involved, but it was very interesting to hear Dr. Bane and Rachel go back and forth over the evidence that the two main characters had really been in love (DB: “But they escape to Switzerland in a boat together.” Rachel: “It’s soooooo laaaaaame. That doesn’t really happen. They don’t even know each other.”). After class, I went to the internet shop, checked the exchange rate, and went and withdrew the last of my money – which will most certainly last me until Sunday, through Cinqueterra (I’m so excited about the beach!), and the last of the souvenirs I have to buy.
Rachel and I went back up to the room and started reading the Kokinshu for our presentation tomorrow. When we realized that the excerpts we had gave no historical context or extra information, we went ahead and went back to the internet place and researched a bit. I think we both ended up on Facebook more than we did on research, but I can’t complain.
When we got back, we talked about the presentation, Japanese people, racism, American hatred of minorities, liberalism and conservatism, hating sins and loving people, minsinterprations of the bible, and so on. It was an interesting stream of conversation that revealed more about ourselves to each other than would have otherwise been – all over some ancient Japanese poetry.
*”….Ponte Vecchio to put their locks on the bridge…”: This is for the lovers out there. Two people who love each other will buy a lock. They can decorate it, inscribe their initials in it, do whatever to it to make it their own. Then those two people go down to the Ponte Vecchio. At one of the four points of the square in the middle of the bridge, the two will go and fasten their lock on to metal rings cemented into the wall or onto other locks that are already there. That lock symbolizes that the relationship has been guaranteed by the act. It’s a sweet legend and tradition. I’ll find out from the others if it actually comes true.
Posted by
Unknown
8:51 AM
6-13-07
CT 5:21
IT 12:21
Pisa Pisa!
We met at the train station at 9:00. We were kind of excited, but we were all exhausted. The trains were supposed to be an hour apart, but because two people were late we weren’t able to catch the 9:37 and had to wait for the 10:37. I wasn’t too peeved, though I did get mad at myself for falling into the McDonald’s trap.
The train ride was rather uneventful. I listened to my iPod and stared out the window. I sat with Kara, Megan, and Kate, but I didn’t bother them. I was so tired.
When we got to the train station, we had to go under the platform and then back up into the lobby. Dr. Bane went and got bus tickets for all of us to get to the Campo di Miracoli (Field of Miracles). We all managed to cram on one bus (it was 14 art kids and 14 lit – plus a professor).. We initially went the wrong way down the street, but Dr. Bane managed to turn us all around. Within a few blocks, we were upon the Leaning Tower.
It was built to be a bell tower, but it began to lean because it’s build on a flood plain. It was pretty impressive at first, but then we realized that it was a lot smaller than all of us had previously thought. I don’t think it’s even the tallest building in the Campo, which is really disappointing. One really interesting thing about it that I found out/realized – it’s not just leaning. It’s banana shaped. They tried to compensate for the leaning by building the successive floors as counterweights. It’s hard to see, but the giveaway is in the lengths of the columns for each floor.
People then began taking the obligatory pictures of holding up the tower. It was pretty funny to see all of the people lining up (which is what I actually took pictures of). Our group did that for a few minutes until Dr. Bane had gotten the group ticket for all of us. He said that it was 15 until 1, and if his memory served him correctly, we were going to be able to go hear someone sing in the baptistery on the hour (it’s supposedly the most acoustic buildling in the world). We all agreed to go. Once we all got in, we sat down and waited.
The Baptistery was not nearly as ornate as the others we had seen. Ravenna’s and Florence’s were awesomely decorated with mosaics. The Baptistery was pretty bare. But the woman walked up to the baptismal font, sung three notes that made chords, and walked away. Most people were upset that she didn’t actually sing a song, but if she had even tried to it would have sounded horrible. It echoed beautifully, though.
After this, we broke for lunch because it was already 1:10. I went with Dr. Bane and his crew to a nearby restaurant with a view of the leaning tower. I had a Cuatro Formaggi pizza, which was actually pretty disgusting as far as the food I’ve had here goes. We left and went back to the baptistery to meet the rest of the people. From there, we went into the Duomo. It was pretty impressive, but it felt like just another church. After that we went to the Camposanto, which is a huge cemetery housed in a building. It caught fire from a grenade explosion in WWII. If this had not of happen, it would have been on par with famous frescoes like the Sistine Chapel. I was more interested in the graves though, and I enjoyed the walkthrough.
Dr. Bane then asked who wanted to go to the museums. Teri and I were the only students who wanted to go, so we went to both museums… within 15 minutes. They were horribly small, but they had some interesting artifacts (like booty from the crusades – including a hippogryph). It was interesting in spite of the size of the museums.
After that, we went and grabbed some gelato (I had lemon and strawberry). I went back to the Baptistery where we were supposed to meet, but I ended up going to buy souvenirs. I got Jeremy a t-shirt and Jacob a leaning shot glass (of course), and went back to our meeting spot after getting two waters.
Then we all trekked back out to the front of the piazza to catch a bus. There were few enough of us to fit on one bus again. After we got to the train station, I got a Kinder bar (German chocolate bar) and waited for the train. Once it finally got there, we hopped on. There weren’t enough seats for us to all sit together, so Rachel and I had to sit in the back of a car by ourselves. It was so hot on the regional train.
When we got back, we decided to go eat at a Doner Kebab place. It was extremely good, and pretty cheap. After I went back to Halley, Caitlin, Kim, and Natalie’s apartment, we decided to meet Kara, Kate, and Megan to play poker. I went to the internet café with Caitlin, then came back to read Hemingway. As usual, I fell asleep with the book on my face.
At 9:30 we went to meeting Megan and Kara at the Duomo. Turns out none of us had brought any cards. Instead, we just talked for a few hours. Somehow the argument turned to religion. I’m all about talking about it with open-minded people, but there was at least one who wasn’t, making the whole conversation awkward.
We mostly left together and I went with Rachel. We got lost on the way back to the apartment. When we finally got there, we realized that we had only been a block away from our apartment the entire time. It was late and we were extremely tired, as I still am.
And that was the day at Pisa. (Sorry about the boring writing style – I’m writing this two days after the fact.)
6-10-07
CT 5:10
IT 12:10
Divine but Unkind.
So today was the big day. Most of the day free. All of Rome to explore.
I got up this morning at 7:30 and went to breakfast before 8. I was tired, but excited. I was going to make up for the time Mr. Bush stole. I sat, made an itinerary for the day, and got other people to say they would go with me to certain places (it’s new and I didn’t want to be alone). Everything was going pretty smooth. My sick apartment-mate came last minute to Rome, so all of us were there. Fantastic.
Our first and only planned activity was the Forum and the Coliseum. Art History and Literature went together, so we got to hear Dr. Seymour talk about the ruins, architecture, reliefs, ancient culture, etc. On the way to it, we discussed the layout of the Musei Capitolini, which is similar to Alumni Circle. We discussed the statue of Marcus Aurelius on horseback and how the statue became the blueprint for nearly all future horseback statues, including the huge Vittorio Emanuele monument (hand outstretched, showing them speaking; right horse leg on top of what was originally a captive, signifying victory, etc.). I was really excited to find the Musei Capitolini so close to our hotel because I wanted to go (it was the original religious center of Rome and has the proportional amount of stone and bronze statues). I have some great pictures from the Forum and stories to go with. I enjoyed it and became even more excited for the rest of the day. Then there was the Coliseum.
The Coliseum came into sight and we all gawked for a good while. It may not be the picture of grace, but it is a picture of power. It really was awesome at first. Then we actually got into the Coliseum. As huge as it is, I think, in your mind’s eye, it’s always bigger. Though we were in the outer hall (and through divine intervention, got mistaken for EU students and given a discount and a tour guide for below budgeted cost), it still had that odd feeling, “Wait. Where would all 80,000 people fit?” There were a lot of ruins, but they had reconstructed part of the floor and seats to give a sample of what the entire arena would have looked like (in fact, says the Spanish tour guide who speaks English as a third language, the Latin word for arena meant “sand”). It was a very interesting tour, but very hot and tiring – and I had no water.
After we got out of the Coliseum, we met up with Danielle and decided to go to the Spanish Steps. When I found out that that Piazza di Spagna was near two of my main tourist points on my map, I decided to go. This is when things got hairy.
Walking from the Coliseum, we went to the intersection next to the Vittorio Emanuele monument. Paulette said, “Good news is we’re halfway there!” Halfway was a complete and utter lie. We may have been 1/4, maybe even 1/5 away from where were supposed to be. Possibly more. We literally trekked over two miles, including the Spanish steps and two other big hills besides. Now, you may say this isn’t bad, and normally I would agree. But when a) you aren’t prepared for that kind of trip, b) over half of your huge group don’t have water with them, c) the whole reason you’re going is so people can get HARD ROCK CAFÉ – ROME t-shirts, and d) you’re going to eat American food in Italy when you’re only there for four weeks, you begin to see my point.
So I got upset about the whole thing, but finally got over it when I found out we got free refills. Danielle and Dr. Bane had asked me if I was still going to do my trip to the Capuchin Crypts (one of several things on my list). At first I said I was too wiped out, which was nearly true. But I knew I’d kick myself if I didn’t go, so I went (without the people who originally said they would).
The Crypt was the definition of macabre. The bones of 4,000 monks were used to decorate walls, ceilings, and floors, while those left unmangled were put into full monk robes and stood up or laid down. Different shapes meant different reminders. There was a clock, reminding us to be charitable while we still have time; a skeleton with a scythe and scales (made from the top part of the skull), etc. It was oddly serene though. I didn’t really feel anything when I went in besides awe that someone would think to do that. I bought lots of postcards which I’ll scan when I get home.
After that, I tried to get a hold of Kim to see where she was (as I had semi-stormed off when the people I had planned to go with decided to go to a bookstore instead; I didn’t feel like it was worth it to argue with people who were willing to spend time in one of many bookstores instead of going to one of a few crypts that we won’t have the chance to see again – but that’s me), but when she finally called me back, she gave me a store I didn’t recognize. Instead, I went ahead and went to the top of the street near the Spanish Steps and found the Palazzo Vaccari, a house with screaming ogres for window and door facings, while the doors and windows look like tongues. It was under restoration, which was only typical of my luck for the day.
I went back down the Spanish Steps after taking a picture of the huge crowd that had begun to amass at one of Rome’s top meeting places and headed toward the Musei Capitolini. I wanted to get there, but at that point I didn’t think I could make it. Then I saw the Metro sign, and heard Paulette’s voice in my head, “You could ride the bus, or even the Metro.” So I saw the Metro as another opportunity. I went in amongst the Babel-esque mixing of languages and found myself in a difficult situation. Nothing was in English.
Well, that’s not true. The machines had an English button, but the directions to use it were not in English and Paulette hadn’t divined that information to me. I had never even been in a city large enough to have a Metro system, nevertheless used it. So I got my ticket (which I still have). I looked at the map and saw where I wanted to go (Piazza Emmanuele – more to come on this later), and knew to took Metro A. So I went toward a sign which had a destination close to where I wanted to be, I thought. I went up two or three sets of escalators and stairs, and found all I had done was bought my ticket and exit the station. So I had to go back in with my 1 Euro Metro ticket and go down to the “AI TRENI” deck.
I got on the Metro and found out it was going the opposite way from how I needed it to go (because of the order of stops). I just chilled, taking out my iPod and people watching the few that were on there. Then the Metro came to the end of the line and everyone got off. I expected it to start going backwards, when I heard a non-automated voice say something something “rigazze” (meaning young girl), so I jumped off, embarrassed. The train went on, and I saw another one coming from the other direction. I had to cross the platform by stairs and get on the other side to get back on the Metro A going the other way. It was surely an enlightening experience, as I had no idea that the Metros didn’t just turn around on the spot with people on them or just go the other way.
Anyway, I got on the return train and got off at Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele. I’ll go ahead and say it now: Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele is not the huge colossal monument. It’s not even near Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, which is the street that runs by the monument. The piazza is a park. In what could probably be considered a bad part of town (unlike what the officer said about Florence in the beginning, I’m absolutely certain that Rome has “bad parts”). So I thought, “Wait. I can find the piazza on the map, orient myself, and get to where I need to be.” Incorrect. I couldn’t orient myself and didn’t know it until I was too far to get back on the Metro. I saw another sign, but it was closed. I had to walk to Piazza San Giovanni – about a mile away on the street. C’est la vie.
So I got on the Metro (with a new 1 Euro ticket) and decided to go ahead and go back to the Piazza di Spagna. I had missed my precious museum and was left to wait for the Choir Concert, alone on the steps in a crowd of people, tired and hurting. I read the guide book to Rome, somewhat ironically, since it was really the last full day I had.
Mr. and Dr. Burly came along, saying they were looking for the church. She pointed at the Spanish Embassy at the top of the stairs and said, “Maybe that’s the church.” I laughed and told her it was the Spanish Steps. “No! It can’t be!” I nodded and told her we had spent a stint going up them to get to the Hard Rock Café. Usually the steps have azaleas or something to that effect framing them, which was what they looked like the last time they had seen them. They went to get gelato since they were accidentally more than an hour early, right before Halley and Rachel came around and sat with me on the steps. Danielle called while we were there and said to go ahead and go to the church because they were all taking cabs. I went to find the Burlys, but they had already gone to the church without me. I drug up the rear, not able to walk very fast.
The choir concert was absolutely gorgeous, as always. It was disappointingly short, as their last concert in Italy, but they conditions were not right for some of the songs, according to the choir director. We were mostly the only ones there. Italians came in from the streets, but then they would leave (we were in All Saints – an Anglican church, the first non-Catholic church in Rome).
After the concert, I asked if someone would want to share a cab (they all said their cab rides were between 6 and 13 dollars), but they wanted to go out. I limped back to the hotel, a long hike when I was feeling well, and laid on the bed waiting for my other two roommates to come up so I could take a shower. Instead, one of them took a shower before me (I don’t know how that happened) and I watched Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever (see Rotten Tomatoes rating on that one) and Unfaithful in Italian. I then took a shower, started this journal entry, and decided to go to bed so I’d be able to get up in the morning.
Soon to come: Final thoughts on Rome.
Posted by
Unknown
2:26 PM
6-9-07
CT 5:33
IT 12:33
Rome in a Day.
I have a lot to say and not a lot of time to say it in.
Teri and I got up around 5:00 this morning to get ready to get on the train. I had two sandwiches to tide me over. We had a long trek from our apartment, but we made it ahead of time. We waited for the train to come in, hopped on, and headed to Rome with only one stop.
I sat with Danielle, Paulette, and Dr. Bane, which is always fun. However, Dr. Bane and Paulette had run into some trouble with a flight and some family. I can’t say exactly what, but he wasn’t happy. But we talked about playlists and journaling, and had a good time.
We got to Rome and ran our way through the crowded train station. Paulette was already flustered, and it just got worse when we could find exactly where we were supposed to be. We met up with Halley, Rachel, Megan, Natalie, Lexie, and Caitlin, who said they all had fun at Pompeii (they had gone the night before). We finally found out where we were supposed to be, after a fight between Paulette and the bus driver, and then we went on our lackluster tour of Rome.
Here’s the deal: Mr. Bush was in town. First Lady Bush wanted to go to the Vatican museum. So guess what? We didn’t get to. One whole day in Rome almost completely ruined (we had a scheduled five hours for the museum). We barely made it to St. Peter’s Basilica in time to get in. We did a running tour (ten minutes in that beautiful church – I didn’t even get to see the place where Charlemagne was coronated). Anyway, I can’t say much about it (besides the popes in all of their tombs and the relics of St. Peter). I went through the most famous church in the world in ten minutes. What can I really say?
Besides a deepfelt hatred for Bush, there’s not too much else to talk about for the most part of the day. After we left the Vatican City, we went to the gift shop where I bought a 25 Euro rosary and a 3 Euro Padre Pio medallion (look him up!). I was extremely discouraged, so I bought the rosary to cheer me up. It did a bit, but not nearly enough. We had to walk back to the bus, which was quite a ways away. We stopped at some key points (one was a cool piazza that I can’t remember the name of, but it was the racetrack for some emperor, and the stadium seats are still in the cellars of the local buildings; also, Grippa’s Pantheon, of which I have video) for maybe 10 minutes each, stopped at the Trevi Fountain so the guide could find our bus driver. Once he found him, we jumped on the bus, went about four blocks, and got off the bus at the hotel.
We met and tried to develop a game plan to fix our shattered day (or at least mine – I really wanted to go to the museum). I went to a place called L’insalata. I had a “palmito” or “heart of palm” (artichoke) salad, with goat cheese and all sorts of fresh greens. Dr. Bane had a salad with honey and nuts, and Paulette had one like mine, except with avocado and not artichoke. Danielle had a really heavy pasta. It was all good, and relatively cheap.
I then went back to the room, read a little bit of Hemingway, and passed out around 2:30.
I woke up at 5:30 and went downstairs to meet for dinner. We were supposed to meet around 5:45 and go to a place Dr. Bane and Paulette knew about. On the way there, we saw about 40 or 50 policemen (the entire police force had been covering Rome all day because of fear of riots due to our dear presidente) form lines with riot gear on, and a Bush protest rounded the corner. It was very interesting, and I have quite a few pictures. Needless to say, we agreed to tell people we were Canadian. Just a few minutes ago as I was watching television, I found out that there were actual riots and people were injured. (On the way back to the hotel from dinner, we saw a sign that said, “BOMBING FOR PEACE IS LIKE FUCKING FOR VIRGINITY.” We all thought it was great and tried to take pictures, but an off-duty policeman tore it down – off duty because of his riot gear in hand and plain clothes).
Anyway, at this place that Dr. Bane and Paulette took us too, they had 2 Euro pizza Margherrta! That’s amazing here. I had a Diavoletto, with salami, ham, and some spices. They had a four course meal for 13 Euro, but mine was 12 and I had just as much – and that included the tip.
Anyway, we went back to the hotel, went up to our rooms, ran back down, and went out to find a pub. We went to the Trevi fountain, which was fun with all of the people. We went on and found a small place with two guys who were really into it. I ordered a margarita, but it was straight tequila and disgusting. I got a water, listened to the band (had a good guitarist, but a horrible song list). We were outside talking when one of our people came out and said that it was a gay bar. I don’t know if it was a gay bar, or there was suddenly a gay crowd, but they said it was pretty funny for it to all of the sudden click. The song list, the guys who were to cute to be straight staring up at the singers, etc. The signs were all there, but we were utterly blind.
We headed back to the hotel, calling it quits. But I think… I think tomorrow will be better. A.) Bush won’t be here. B.) There won’t be anymore riots because of it (check the news for that one). C.) I borrowed a TOP 10 ROME book from Danielle, and the things that are open tomorrow look freaking awesome. We’ll see!
Off to bed!
Posted by
Unknown
2:18 PM
6-8-07
CT 2:55
IT 9:55
I am completely worthless.
Honestly, I haven’t done a damn thing today. Rachel rustled around this morning around 6 or 7. I got up about three hours later, did a journal entry, fixed a few days worth of pasta, and went back to bed around 12:30 for a nap. Until 4:30.
I went out and about around six. I’d eaten, but I was still starving for some reason (probably in association with my sleeping). I went to a Mesopotamian restaurant, got a wrap that was extremely spicy but very good, and went to the internet shop for an hour, just to mess around and catch up.
I was going back up the street when I saw Teri, one of my roommates. I turned the corner and Katie was there too. I asked what was going on and they said that Katie was pretty sick. She had slept all day today, getting up before I went out. She had mentioned her throat was sore then, but I didn’t think it was serious. Apparently it was serious enough for them to head out to the ER.
Since I saw them then, I’ve talked to Danielle twice and sat around by myself, catching up on readings, thinking about tomorrow, and being generally worthless.
Because this entry is so devoid of content, I’m going to post “Best of” pictures from the last two weeks. I’ll give you faithful fans one picture per day (since I’ve finally figured out how to get the size of the photos down). That’ll actually come out to about 12 or 13 pictures, since there have been two days that I haven’t taken any (including today).
NOTE: After revisiting all of my photographs, I figured I should throw caution to the wind and post the very best of both weeks. There are more than 12 photographs, but not some from every day. Enjoy.
See below for captions.
NOTE: This is a place holder until Monday when I can format the pictures and insert them. Sorry.
Posted by
Unknown
2:15 PM
6-7-07
CT 3:47 A.M. (6-8-07)
IT 10:47 A.M. (6-8-07)
Dante, Electro-Jesus, and a Bottle of Champagne.
Yesterday was a lot of blah topped with a lot of fun.
I got up at 9:00 to take a shower, get ready, eat something, and meet the rest of the class at the school at 10:30. I had fallen asleep reading Thomas Mann’s “Death in Venice” (if you haven’t read it, it’s cree-py. More to come in a moment), so I was ultra behind on my readings since the roommate that I’m sharing reading materials with hadn’t finished Inferno the night before. So I was just hoping to get some reading done in between the field trip of the day and class time.
The alumni/administration group that came for UCA’s centennial shindig was going to shadow us to the Casa di Dante. Why us? I really don’t know. It may have had something to do with Paulette being our Italian speaker, or the fact that we weren’t trekking all over the city, etc. But we all met at 10:30, roundabout, and then headed for the Casa di Dante. Bane put on the professor face, lecturing us about the plaques all over the city with selections from The Divine Comedy on them. If someone wanted to find them all, it would certainly be a bit of a scavenger hunt. They’re everywhere, inside and outside of buildings all over the city. It would be fun, but I’m not that hardcore into Dante. I would love to do an Orson Scott Card scavenger hunt though.
We arrived at Casa di Dante, and Paulette said the ticket lady directed us to go up to the first floor. I did happen to think this was strange since we had already climbed one huge case of stairs to get there, but I’m not one to question the ticket lady. Turns out she had told Paulette to go up to the first floor, but we were actually already on the first floor. Paulette apologized to our guests like she had committed a cardinal sin, and we all went back down to the first floor of the exhibit.
This is where I say it was really neat and I’m glad I went, but I’m not sure I can muster it this time. It was somewhat of a crock because they couldn’t say a) any of it was Dante’s stuff or b) that it was actually Dante’s house to begin with. It did have some cool genealogies of his family, as well as some models of what the city looked like in Dante’s time (which was fun; as it turns out our street would have been outside the city walls – and we’re a ten-twelve minute walk from the Duomo). They actually think Dante’s house would have been further down the street and unrelated to the building that we were actually in.
They had some interesting histories to try and explain the war between the Ghibellines and the Guelphs. *Cue Explanation.* Dante was fighting with the Guelphs against the Ghibellines for power in Florence. The Ghibellines lost and were either put to death, exiled, or imprisoned, I don’t know which. Anyway, with the Guelphs in power there was another political fracture, splitting the Guelphs into the Blacks and Whites. I think the Whites won, which would have made Dante a Black. They exiled all of the Blacks from Florence forever. Dante had to leave his wife and children and roam the countryside. And that’s when he started his greatest work.
The Italians do so love their Dante. They find every opportunity they can to honor him. Dante and Dante Alighieri restaurants and Tabacchis abound. His “casa” is on Via Dante Alighieri. They have posted quotes from his book all over Florence. He has two museums dedicated to him and his life (one in Florence, one in Ravenna). And, as Dr. Bane keeps pointing out, he’s on their money. The Euro coin has quite a few denominations – 1 c, 2 c, 5 c, 10 c, 20, 50 c, 1 Euro, and 2 Euro. Italy is the only country in the EU that got their own set of Euro coins. The 1 Euro have the Vitruvian Man, the 50 c have some weird artwork, one piece has the Coliseum, etc. But who is on their 2 Euro coin? Who is the most important Italian contribution to the world? You guessed it. Dante Alighieri.
We got done with the three floors of the Casa di Dante pretty quickly and were led outside. For those of you who haven’t read the Inferno (for the rest, a reminder): In the beginning of The Divine Comedy, Dante is in the middle of a dark wood. Virgil is sent to him by an angel named Beatrice (Bee-a-tree-chey for the Italians) to be his guide in Hell. Dante met Beatrice in real life when he was nine and she was eight. As far as we know, Dante never saw her again. But she was so perfect and virtuous that she became Dante’s muse. She also died before he wrote the Divine Comedy, and some suggest that this is another reason why he began the story. The whole reason I say this is because we went to the church where Beatrice is buried next.
It was an extremely small church, only known for holding Beatrice’s remains. Apparently, many people know about it though, because Beatrice has a huuuuuge fan club. Her tomb was absolutely covered in letters, asking for a muse, for true love, for a blessing. Most of us wrote her a letter as well. I can’t say what my letter said of course (I guess it’s akin to wishing on a star). I took a picture of my note on top of the other notes, just so I could look back and say I was there and I did it. There were some weird things about the church though. It was the first one that I’d seen so far that panders for money so blatantly. They had Euro coin machines to turn on the altar lights, electric “candles” (white sticks with bulbs at the end) for prayer, and all sorts of electro-Jesus. I didn’t give any money because of it. I’d rather give to the poor box than to give to what felt like a perversion of purpose.
After that was said and done, we went to a deli sandwich shop next door. Caitlin and I ordered the Dante e Beatrice sandwich with all sorts of stuff on it. We took it all back to the apartment (finding a cheap gelato store along the way) and ate and talked. Caitlin got sleepy, so we sent her to Rachel’s bed. Kim and I chose to stay behind when Halley and Rachel decided to go shopping. We told them that we would catch up but we never did. We left at 1:40 and got to class just before it started at 2. Then we chatted up Circles 1-8 of Hell and talked about Thomas Mann’s “Death in Venice.” Such a weird story.
While we were talking, a thunderstorm blew in –one of those that is preceded by large booming thunder. Then the sky tore open and poured out upon us. We kept hearing a pitter patter, but we chalked it up to the rain on the windowsill. Turns out it was coming under the window sill. Someone went and told the people at Kent State and we kept talking. Then we saw water coming in the roof. We told Dr. Bane who said, “Well, it’s about time to end class anyway” and ran to tell the clerk/secretary guy what was going on. I had to go get online and wanted to use my laptop – one of the few times I take it with me, so I headed out for the WiFi café. Well, both ends of the street were blocked, I got disoriented, and went the wrong way. I got soaked for all of the two minutes I was outside. I came back to the university, got reoriented, and headed out.
I got to the WiFi café, dried out, and realized their internet was slow. Then I headed toward the grocery store to get some necessities (bread, milk, hotdogs, pasta, lunch meat, and cheese). I went and put that up, got online for 30 minutes, and got back to the university to hear the choir sing at 7:00. They were really good, but so was the champagne afterward. Apparently I like champagne.
Last night after the singing was a trip. I went with a bunch of people (I won’t name names for the sake of incrimination of them) to the Kikuya bar, had Guiness which was disgusting after a while, then went next door to the Red Garter, an American bar with karaoke. I have movies on my camera of the funny stuff going on. Let me clear this up: I wasn’t drunk, but nearly everyone else was. It was pretty sad and funny all at the same time.
I walked a girl home whose five roommates were belligerently drunk, and then headed to my own place. I decided against writing a journal entry immediately (nothing happened, really) and went to bed. Rachel got up REALLY early this morning to go to the train station for her trip to Pompeii, and I’m just chilling in the apartment.
Now it’s time for a nap.
6-6-07
CT 4:24
IT 11:24
The Pity Palace and the Boboli Bastards
No, I’m not bitter. Let me explain – from the top.
We had to meet at the school at 10:00 today. I got up and took a bath to get some relief from the some 30 or 40 mosquito bites over my body. Seriously, I’m a pitiful sight. I itch constantly and no anti-itch medicine can stay my fury. So I exploited the only line of defense I had. As usual, I left before Rachel and headed toward the school.
I strolled oh-so-nonchalantly (I leave early every morning because if I walk really fast, my right shin feels like it’s going to split). I had my iPod blaring my soundtrack to life, which is kind of sad since it was The Fray.* At any rate I got to the school early and found no one was there (not a surprise), and waited until Dr. Bane and Paulette came around the corner. We chatted, paying special attention to his U2 Dublin concert shirt that he’d told us about the day before, and waited for more people to show up. Of course, they were mostly late. Do I sound disgruntled? Probably at least a bit, but I’m the idiot who shows up early all the time.
We headed over the Palazzo Pitti, which was the palace of the Medici. It’s connected by a hidden passageway to the Palazzo Vecchio, which is amazing if you ever see the two on a map (hinthint). The Palazzo Pitti is now a huge museum connected to the Boboli Gardens, which were created along with the palace. Dr. Bane went and bought our tickets after everyone who was going to meet us there actually showed up, and we headed in. Our tickets were to everything but the actual rooms of the Medici, so we were supposed to be able to see all sorts of neat things.
This is where my account gets sketchy and confusing. I have no idea what part of the museum I was in. I think it was the Museo degli Argenti, but I really don’t know. It frustrates me that they have a big thing against taking pictures. I understand the importance – flash deteriorates the paintings – but most people who go to Florence will only go once. Why can’t we take pictures? It’s not like there are copyrights. Or maybe that’s it, and they just don’t say that. I really have no idea, but it aggravates me.
It was still interesting. Intricate ivory carvings, cameos and seals, jeweled accessories, and, my favorite part, world collections. How do you prove how powerful you are? By collecting artifacts from all over the world. Chinese and Japanese curtains, plates, and models, African people models made completely from shell, and, brace yourself – a New World mask. It was very simplistic, but made from a beautiful green jade (at least it looked like it). I wanted a picture of it, but I was being stared at so I didn’t get to.
Otherwise, that part of the museum was hit or miss with me. The ceiling was neat, as it was painted with 3D effects that literally made it vibrant and alive, but it wasn’t nearly as impressive as the Palazzo Vecchio. We then went looking for the Galleria del Costume. We finally found it on the “second floor” (meaning the third). Natalie went off to the side and found an Egyptian mummy, but we had already gotten into the museum and didn’t go back.
The costume museum and the modern art museum were very disappointing for those of us not into art design/clothing/shiny things. They had a few of the 17th century costumes, but it mainly showed the evolution of women’s dresses. Could we get any further out of my area? But then we happened upon the All Hail Garibaldi exhibit (not it’s actual title). Since everything was in Italian, we had no idea who the guy was until I saw a “Sicilian War of Independence” poster, some dates, and the name “Viktor Emmanuel.” I think Garibaldi was the other guy who conquered Italy in the 1800s (you can double check me). It would make sense, because he was obviously a general and I can’t think of any other huge war the Italians were involved in during the 1800s (because I’m an Italian history expert and all). It was kind of neat, but it wasn’t nearly as engaging as something like the Civil War has proven to be to foreigners. It’s not like it was aimed at us. It was in Italian.
Next we headed out to the Boboli Gardens. The damn thing is huge. It was bigger than the Palazzo Vecchio, Palazzo Pitti, and probably the Gli Uffizi combined. I wouldn’t say you could get lost in it, because it would be pretty easy to find the main roads – but at the same time it had roads. I was only interested in following signs and not in getting lost, so I went ahead and headed toward the Il Giardino Antico Babilonia a Roma (“The Antique Gardens of Babylon and Rome”), which is only open from March or May 8 to October 28 of this year. Without mentioning names, some of the people I was with decided to follow someone else (who really didn’t want them to tag along anyway), so I went ahead by myself. I think I ended up being the only person from our group that went.
It was extremely interesting to me, a certified history geek. It had tablets from Mesopotamian culture, including Babylon, on the contents of their gardens (possibly even the legendary Hanging Gardens). It also had ancient Greek and Roman pottery depicting plants and horticulture. There was a very short Egyptian part of the exhibit, but at least it was still there. They had quite a few statues of what would have been Greek and Roman fountains in the gardens. They also had quite a few working models of how some of the irrigation systems would have worked. I found it interesting. I didn’t take any pictures though, which has been the oddest thing I’ve done on the trip. Something inside me deemed it unnecessary. It was nothing that we all haven’t seen before – just put in one place with a theme.
After that I went to see how many hidden statues I could find, but stumbled across another exhibit. A lot of the pieces in the previous exhibit were from Pompeii and Herculaneum (including a huge mosaic seen for the first time outside of Pompeii), both destroyed by Vesuvius. In this other exhibit, two Pompeian households had been recreated. I did take pictures of these (who could pass up recreated Pompeian villas) and gloated at the fact that if everyone had gone with me, they would have gotten to see them – especially since they’re all supposedly going to Pompeii once we get to Rome. But hey, that’s that much more they’ll get to experience there, I guess.
Otherwise, Boboli was a kind of nightmarish maze. It wasn’t too bad, except I had already gone downhill and had to go back uphill. I waited around at the bottom, I guess waiting for divine intervention, spotted a yellow and black bird that couldn’t fly (evident from its attempts to skitter away from me taking a picture of it and not flying), and started up the hill. The most exciting part of this journey was my rescue of a little green dinosaur.
A father and a mother with a penchant for punishment were pushing their stroller around with their child. They had just come down the huge hill I was heading up, and we passed without as much as a look at each other. By the time I started up the actual hill part, they were already to the fountain at the very bottom. I happened to see something extremely green – brighter than anything else – laying in the middle of the gravel road. I ran over, saw it was a little lime green dinosaur with a yellow belly, and looked at the family. The man kept dropping his water bottle over and over again and seemed more preoccupied with keeping it in his hands than anything the baby had dropped. Going out on a limb, I went back down, running (funny sight), and held it up to the parents. The woman gasped, “Ah!” and the man sighed and nodded, “Grazie mille!” I nodded, pointed up the hill, and said, “It was way up there!” before I realized that they didn’t speak English. I nodded, and went back on my way. Then an angel of the Lord spread her radiant light down upon me, sanctifying me on the spot for the many miracles and good I have done on the earth. And lo, I was sore afraid.
Of course, those last lines didn’t happen, and I was forced, without divine intervention, to scale the mini-Everest that was the Boboli Gardens. I made it to the top, weaving between the shaded corridor and the open gravel road, and finally made it to the top. There was a huge broken statue face, just sitting there. I was like, “Did they find the Colossus of Rhodes?” Turns out it was a modern piece, which is okay, I guess. I then sadly realized that no one was there to take pictures of me with it, so I had to figure out something. This is what happened:
1.) Figure out the camera angle. As is obvious by the look on my face, I wasn’t expecting to keep the picture. But earlier this morning on my way to the school, I had a look similar to this on my face (at least, I think so). A man riding a bicycle that was laughing and talking on his cell phone in his Armani suit passed. We happened to meet eyes and the smile, the laughing smile I might add, melted off. This isn’t the first time this has happened in my life, thus it is my second superpower - the first being my uncanny ability to tell someone’s shoe size and be right within a half size range. Note my fake Armani sunglasses.
2.) Fitting other objects in. I’ve never been photogenic, so trying to make myself look good and get something else in focus is a tricky duck indeed (or perhaps a picky duck! Sorry. Inside joke.). So, first try, this is what came out. I took the picture through a wrought iron fence, so that’s the circle (halo anyone? Anyone?) around my head. I kind of like it, it being one of the few pictures I have ever taken that I look serious and don’t simultaneously look like a bouncer.
3.) Fitting the statue in. Three things could have been better about this picture. Number one, the statue is too far away. I would have liked the statue to be comparable to my own head, but I think that was too much to ask from my rudimentary self-portrait, extended arm, foreground and background focusing skills (but I did manage to catch two people in the background, thus giving the viewer an idea of how big it is). Number two, it’s not in focus. Number three is obvious: I look ma-yud. I look like I really did just climb a huge hill. Therefore I retook the picture and….
4.) Trying to look happy. I did just climb a hill, and it’s true I can’t focus the camera or even get close enough without people seeing me and thinking I’m an idiot, but by God, I’m going to be happy about the damn statue. So I am. Sort of. I was actually laughing at the last picture because I looked so scary, so that’s why the smile actually looks sort of normal. But there. That will probably be the last of the pictures of myself I attach. I thought it was an interesting “evolution” of my l33t skillz. What it is, yo.
After this episode, I went back down the hill – in a different part, mind – and found myself at the place where I entered the gardens from the costume gallery. I turned right to find the porcelain museum, the other part of what our ticket would let us in to, but I couldn’t find it. Of course, it began to rain. People huddled under trees, umbrellas, and the gift shop “porch” trying to get out of it. Honestly, I don’t know what they were thinking. Every time it has rained here in the last two weeks, it ends up pouring for an hour or two at a time at least. So I kept walking. I took a picture of an Egyptian obelisk with no translation (I’m pretty sure it was real), mini-maze gardens, and the huge hill I was about to climb. I got up to the top of the hill in the pouring rain, took pictures of a naked Neptune on the backs of mermen or Minos-types (half-men half-fish, right?), I’m not sure which, and went up the next hill to find a huge statue that looked somewhat recent. I found Caitlin and Kim, chatted with them, went back down the hill, hit up the gift shop (actually got some things for myself that were not for the purposes of recounting the trip to someone else, including explanations of some paintings and the mythology behind the subjects), and headed out. It was after two at the time, so I grabbed lunch (ham and cheese calzone and a big strawberry freezi type drink), and headed to Kent State University to rest and read.
I saw Paulette, who asked me how I was feeling. I was exhausted and said so, and she said she understood. She said she was going to go home and rest. She left and I kept reading. Five minutes later, she comes back up and asks me how I really am because I look so down. I said I was tired again, and she said, “Well, I was wondering if it was roommate trouble.” I told her it wasn’t, but decided to tell her the latest developments for the sake of gossip and someone to talk to. She laughed and rolled her eyes in the appropriate places. Paulette is just one of those people who can make anyone feel better. I thanked her for her ear, and she said, of course, “Anytime!” I then read a bit for class, did a journal entry, and went down to the classroom.
Hint to all of you who travel in Europe: yes, water is cheaper. Yes, it is good for you. But you will cave for what I so creatively call the “Coke Trap.” If you’re reading this, you’re more than likely American. You thrive on sugar and preservatives in your food. You come to Europe and say, “No way am I spending the equivalent of $4.50 on a Coke/Sprite/Pepsi.” You do well for a bit… and then it hits you. You haven’t had caffeine in ages (you might be able to stave this feeling off if you drink Italian coffee, which is apparently some of the best in the world – say the Argentinean lady who serves at a gelato bar near Santo Spirito). You haven’t really had sugar, unless you’ve been eating gelato every day or a desert every where you go. You definitely haven’t had preservatives, because the food here is mostly without it. So what do you do? You’ve got to have the worst thing you can put into your body without crossing into drug paraphernalia. You have to drink a Coca-Cola. So yes, I’ve had one or two every day for the last four days because I get pangs for them, and this is coming from someone who drank Sprite Zero in the states. I shop around for mine, and usually get them for around 1.50 or 2.00 Euro (between 2.20 and 3.00 USD) for the equivalent of a 12 oz can or a 500 ml. It’s outrageous, but there are few things that are exactly like home here, and that’s as close as it gets. All of this is to say that I bought a .50 water out of a vending machine as well as a 1 Euro coke out of another machine and drank both during class.
We covered Dante’s Divine Comedy, the “Inferno” Cantos I-IV or so in class today. That’s woefully behind schedule, but we have some really interesting conversations. Somehow we got on televangelists, and that proved to be extremely interesting (considering the discussions I’ve had about Falwell, Robertson, and the ever thaumaturgic Benny Hinn). We got out of class at six and decided to go across town to get dinner at an Egyptian restaurant. I’d never eaten falafel or hummus, so at the behest of Nathan, I decided to get a falafel and hummus pita, which also had spice, milk, lettuce, tomatoes – all fresh. It was scrum-diddly, and if I wasn’t a born and bred meat-eater, I would totally eat falafel and hummus for the rest of my life. I actually took a picture of the menu and the inside of the restaurant. Everyone else had shauerma, which had some really really good veal. We all had a desert, mostly baklava but also basbussa and mahallabia. It was all very very good and very cheap (Euro wise it was about 4.50 for the meal and dessert).
After we left from there, definitely deciding to come back, we crossed the bridge next to the Ponte Vecchio. Apparently it was a good time for a photo op, and everyone jumped over the side of the bridge onto a little ledge. Of course I’m the safe one, so I’m listing off all of the horrible things that could happen to them. They took a group picture and some individual pictures of them skirting with doom, and then climbed back over onto the bridge. We headed on over to the apartment across the Arno and started reading after we got over our giggle fits. I laid down and passed out. I woke up to Halley and Rachel cackling. Rachel told me she was ready to go, so we headed out and walked all the way back just so she could wash her clothes and I could journal. And here I am, with “Death in Venice” by Thomas Mann to finish. I’m on page 10.
For such a relatively uneventful day, I can always find something to chat it up about.
6-5-07
CT 5:06
IT 12:06
Medici Intrigue at the Palazzo Vecchio.
Shortly I will tell you a tale of ages. But first, I will tell you of the boring precursors – which were the main events prior to the tale.
I got up this morning about 11:30. I got dressed, ate a sandwich (salami and cheese) for lunch, and headed out ahead of Rachel to the school for class. I got there and read a bit, but mostly waited for people to show up. Rachel came in about 12:50, and no one was there yet. Dr. Bane came in five minutes late, and everyone else came in 15 – 20 minutes late. I was kind of disappointed, because I like class to start on time just as much as the next person…. Well, the next person who isn’t late. Zing.
Anyway, we finished the Aeneid in class today, complete with interesting discussions about religion and Dante’s Divine Comedy. We then had a presentation about Gilgamesh from the friends I hang out with all the time. It was good, if not a bit muddled, though there weren’t many questions. Dr. Bane then began pointing out the obvious allegory or parallel (Gilgamesh and the Great Flood = Noah and the Great Flood), and then picked out the less obvious ones (Snake steals Gilgamesh’s precious fruit = Snake coaxes Eve to steal God’s precious fruit; Enkidu comes from the wild and is tamed by a woman = Adam is wild and needs a woman). As pretentious as it sounds, I’m always surprised when people don’t know the obvious facts of the case of believing in religion wholesale. Perhaps this is because I’m used to dealing with legitimately intelligent people who know the story and still choose faith over evidence. Or maybe I’m really pretentious.
We took a break for about 20 minutes to meet at the Piazza Signoria, which is next to the Palazzo Vecchio. We had the ultra-secret passage tour, but we had to wait on Dr. Bane and Paulette to get the tickets. While we were waiting, I got a quick lunch (sandwich with spice, polmodoro, mozzarella, e ham) and took some pictures of the piazza’s statues. I finally found out that the big fountain was none other than Neptune (big surprise – it is a fountain) and got to see the lion holding the crest of Florence or the Medici, I can’t remember which (the real one is in the Bargello across the city). Dr. Bane called me and told me to go to the side door and he’d be waiting on us. So I moved us over to the side door. He called again. “Uh… so… where are you?” “The side door behind the fountain.” “It should be two big doors that are open.” This happened to be the keyword. So we went further down, found an open door, and Dr. Bane met us with our tickets. After checking our bags and having a “girl crisis,” we were ready for our tour.
I wish I could paste every picture I have into this document, but suffice it to say everything you’ve ever heard about palace/royal/powerful family intrigue, secrecy, and cool tricks, the Palazzo Vecchio has in abundance. Here is your history lesson. Listen carefully, dear children.
Palazzo Vecchio (literally “the old palace”) is mid-Medieval accomplishment. A castle built to represent the power of Florence and its republic, the Palazzo was home to the elected councilmen of Florence. Six men would be elected to two-month terms. These men would be obliged to live in the Palazzo Vecchio. Since no women were allowed inside the castle walls, it was seen as more of a duty for men to serve for Florence. Along the way in Florence’s rise to power, relations between Pisa and Florence worsened. Preparing for war, Florence brought in a mercenary and his forces to defend Florence and become their leader.
Whether or not the war with Pisa came to be (which I think it actually didn’t) doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the mercenary began to amass Florence’s power into his control. Sensing the loss of their republic, thus freedom, the people of Florence revolted and attacked the castle. After fighting long and hard, the mercenary was expelled from Florence and the republic restored.
A couple of things to be gathered from this all too brief and probably too vague history: the Palazzo Vecchio was a sign of Florence’s power and people. However, even with its own egotism, Florence was still susceptible to singular, consolidated power structures. This would end up allowing the Medici to come into power.
Exactly how it happened, I’m not sure. My memory is fuzzy and I’ve never learned much about the Medici. However, I seem to remember hearing that Cosimo I, the one who actually began the two century dynasty of the Medici, was actually elected. He was 18 at the time, and was chosen because of his easily-influenced youth. Cosimo wasted no time showing Florence he was determined to rule alone, and began ruthlessly tossing aside his enemies.
He was the architect for the capture of the beautiful and rich city of Siena, and also led the Florentines to victory against Pisa. He realized the importance of Palazzo Vecchio and its symbolism and skillfully made the Medici’s synonymous with it. He changed little on the outside of the Palazzo, but converted the inside into a livable palace for himself and his family, thus changing the power from the people to himself and his progeny. He then altered the inside of the palace to become one of the most important, if not the most important, sign of his power. He commissioned art.
As power hungry and terrible as the Medici were, it’s important to note that, without their generous patronage, a good portion of Renaissance art would not exist at all. Michelangelo was a favorite and was commissioned more than once. However, Cosimo’s favorite artist was Vasari. The things he did were unimaginable in scale… but I’ll come to that shortly.
The history I just gave was from the contents of our tour today. The first “secret” we were led to was a room built especially for Cosimo’s son, Francesco. The room was completely covered in paintings. The frames of one painting would be close to or touching another frame for another painting. Each held scenes with typical Renaissance subjects and style – flowing strokes of color highlighting the labors of Hercules, the birth of Venus, the trials of Perseus, and so on. Though the room was designed by Vasari, it was the collaborative effort of over 30 artists. Only one painting was actually done by Vasari.
Interestingly enough, the room was shaped like a treasure chest. What do treasure chests hold? Well, treasures of course. The room was shaped like this:
Number 1 is a picture of a woman amongst animals giving a rock or mineral to Prometheus, who is holding a torch. This actually symbolizes Nature giving a gift to Art, or at least unifying itself with art. There’s a bit more to the “rock” bit though. See, Francesco was apparently a nutcase who believed in the power of alchemy. Number 6 is an alchemy shop with scientists hovering, calculating, measuring, and mixing. In the bottom right hand corner is a man who looks frightfully similar to the portrait of Cosimo I (which is on the facing end wall). It is Francesco Medici himself, painted into a scene in one of his own paintings by a Dutch painter whose name I could never remember, nevertheless pronounce.
So Francesco was a nut. Power breeds its own insanity, so it’s not surprising. But what might be a bit surprising is the lengths at which Francesco went to keep his possessions hidden away. The painting to the right or left of Number 5 (can’t remember which) was of Poseidon holding a crystal (the entire right hand wall was of water elemental paintings, the left of fire). The tour guide then opened that cabinet, and showed us an empty hollow where they believe Francesco hid his things away. So the objects in the paintings represented what was held behind them.
To the left, right, top, and bottom of Number 1 were paintings of the four “elements” – earth, fire, air, and water. Number 2 was of Perseus freeing Andromeda (I think – not too current on my mythology), which is the only painting in the room by Vasari. Number 5 was of a scene I didn’t recognize, but I did see a person in the paining peeking around a column. The tour guide opened this cabinet to reveal a secret passageway, which we took with awed looks on our faces.
The room we climbed to was the hidden cabinet room of Cosimo I. There was only one cabinet that she showed us, but they think it held small trinkets and treasures of antiquity and the new world. Up above, faded circular and odd-shaped paintings of the arts (sculpture, music, painting, etc.) were framed by grotesques, which were a newly discovered style at the time. We then exited the room from another door, coming out another painting (Number 3) in Francesco’s treasure chest room
Next we visited the Room of the 500, where the men used to meet to elect the new republic rulers, or the priors. I don’t think I’ve seen a room so big in my entire life. I forget how many meters across the tour guide said it was, but it was absolutely colossal. However, the ceiling was very low when Cosimo came to power. He commissioned Vasari to redesign it. His decision? Lift the ceiling eight meters, cover the entire room in gild and paintings (some bigger than billboards), and commission statues to place around the room. It was an absolutely gorgeous and completely unbelievable room. It was where Cosimo chose to entertain diplomats from all over Europe, especially Spain and France (one queen of France was a Medici), showing to them his absolute power. In the front of the room were three statues of the most influential and important Medici. I couldn’t hear the third’s name, but the one on the left was Cosimo and the one sitting in the middle was Pope Leo X (I believe Clement VII was the other Medici pope, but I could most certainly be wrong). The paintings on the walls were of Cosimo’s major conquests against Siena and Pisa. In the middle of the ceiling, Cosimo is being crowned. Another one shows Cosimo plotting the attack on Pisa. (Imagine seeing all of this while a string orchestra practiced classical pieces for some sort of party that night – it felt like we were living in a classical fantasy).
We then headed up to the second (or third by this point) story to see the paintings up close. Some of the paintings actually represented the different districts in Florence (Santa Croce, Santo Spirito, etc.). Then we headed up even further to see the actual architecture of the ceiling. The ceiling was actually painted on panels that were then lifted and secured into place by massive trusses. Vasari actually invented two types of trusses that were used in the ceiling – one set that supports the ceiling, the other that supports the roof. This structure, now nearly 600 years old, is still 80% original. It also took Vasari two years. During this time, he designed the roof, painted the scenes (I’m not sure if he did all of them or just some – either would have been a feat), and designed the secret passageway to the Palazzo Pitti, the new Medici palace (remember: Palazzo Vecchio means “old palace” for a reason).
We were then escorted back down and told which ways we could go. We got to see the entrance to the secret passageway, looked at fabulous rooms and pieces of art, an anatomical statue of a horse, intricate cabinets, 16th century bathrooms, etc. We actually got lost in the castle, which is a fantastic feeling. Once we finally got out, I went to the gift shop and bought a guidebook to the artwork in the castle. It is actually in my top three of Florence so far.
Afterward, it already being 5:00, I went with Halley, Kim, and Rachel to the internet shop to check mail, Facebook, and what have you. We have to take the Dante’s Inferno quiz online for Dr. Bane (I’d already taken it with my roommates earlier this year – I’m a Seventh Circle Warmonger, thankyouver’much) and they hadn’t done it yet. Along the way we stopped in an absolutely adorable wood-working shop where the man hand-makes children’s toys and clocks, just like Gepetto would. I think I’m going to go back and get a clock for my new baby cousin and his big 4-year-old brother, just because I don’t think I can leave without doing so.
We then visited what we called the “mini-San Lorenzo market,” which was a parking lot taken up by vendors. I want a leather bag very badly, and one of my current roommates got a nice one for 40 Euro. I can’t find anything even close to that price, all of them being around 120 or more. It makes me sad that I might leave without the only souvenir I want, but c’est la vie.
We all went and checked our mail, found out most everyone was in Purgatory, and headed out to cross the Arno. I had to get dinner since we didn’t go back to the apartment, and stopped at a little restaurant where you pick the stuff that goes on the sandwich and they make it for you. It wasn’t quite a deli, but it was still really good. I got a Heineken (tsk tsk, I know) and found out very quickly that I didn’t like it. Everyone else drinks here, so I thought I’d try it. No dice, my friends. No dice. But the food was good, and the beer wasn’t too expensive. I just felt like an idiot for wasting my money.
We got to Halley and Kim’s apartment to find Caitlin “cheating” and watching an all-music channel on TV that featured a lot of American artists. We watched that, chatted it up, and headed out about 9:00 to go to the Piazza Santo Spirito. One of the other guys on the trip lives nearby, so he came out to visit with us. We sat outside on the steps and were approached twice by weird drunk Central African guys. Everyone had alcohol in their hands except for us (Halley was the only one drinking, and it was water). One came up and kept gesturing to his wine in a glass, and we couldn’t understand what he was saying. He whistled, swirled the whine, and then stared at us. We kept saying, “We don’t understand,” so he said, “F--- you” and walked off. Another guy approached me and said, “Hay… Hay… I love you… I love you!” He reached for my arm and said, “Come on… Come on…” I jumped another stair up and leaned towards my friends. “No no no no no no no no.” He said, “Awww…. Come on! I love you. Come on.” Me: “No no no no no no no no.” Finally he left me alone, but it was scary while it lasted. I just did what the officer told us in the first few days. Don’t react, be calm, and refuse. Not very long after that, a man tackled an older drunk lady in the street. The first African man that had come up to us went out and broke up the fight, even getting the drunk man to hug him and kiss his cheek. There was a police car with two officers nearby. The African man went and explained what happened, and then walked away without being apprehended. I told Rachel I’d had enough and I wanted to go, so we headed back to our side of the river to go to bed, read, sleep, and wake up for a new busy day.
It’s 1:51 and my iPod died. I’ll take that as divine intervention. Goodnight all.
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9:43 AM
6-4-07
CT 2:46
IT 9:46
The Most Uneventful Day.
Today has been surprisingly uneventful.
I woke up at 8:00 this morning to work on my journal entry from Ravenna and finally finished it. I had needed to wash my clothes the night before, but we ran out of detergent. I had to wear smelly dirty clothes. I was afraid to get close to anyone. (I’m having my revenge right now, though – all of my clothes are in the washer.)
We met at the school at 10:00 to go to the Convent of San Marco, which is next to the Accademia. We were supposed to look at the cells of the monks especially, to see how “small” they were (I’m not sure about this – my room was roughly the size of one of theirs). There were lots of frescoes by a Fra Bartolomeo character. We kept seeing a skull at Jesus’ feet in the crucifixion paintings and frescoes and had a delightfully discussion over whether the skull was symbolic of death or Golgotha (I said the latter). We went up and saw the cells, saw more paintings, and then got to see a room of illuminated manuscripts, music, song, and liturgy. It was very interesting, with very beautiful manuscripts. Caitlin and I got separated and I escorted her back to the Duomo and toward the university to keep her from getting lost (I’m the navigator around here). I had my laptop with me and went back to Anguilllara to the wi-fi café (it’s called Naimi, I think). I got Caspiaccio pizza (artichoke, mozzarella, proscuitto or ham, bell pepper, and something else) and a Fragola (strawberry) juice drink for 9.00 Euro. Not too bad, I guess – especially if I got wi-fi. I sent out my entries, and decided to head back to the university to finish reading. A woman from Miami U. had to let me in. I went up to the classroom, finished reading and a journal entry, and waited for class to start at 2:00.
So everyone doesn’t think we don’t do anything, I’ll go ahead and say class was interesting. We covered chapters 1, 2, and 4 of Virgil’ Aeneid, spending special attention on the affairs of state and the death of Dido. We then covered Edith Wharton’s “Roman Fever.” It was good, but it wasn’t the cat’s pajamas like everyone had made it out to be. However, I will say that it had a twist that would make Jerry Springer invite the characters on the show, but the writing was very British – which I’m not used to. At any rate, it was still a good story.
Dr. Bane and Paulette invited us all to go to Gilli, the chocolate store. I’m not a big fan, but it was fun seeing everyone else eat so much chocolate. The cases were refrigerated, so no one could buy a lot because it would all melt the minute it came into the sun. Therefore, they ate it all at once. I might go back and try it if I’m craving some. Dr. Bane and Paulette then headed to the fresh pasta store. This time only four people went, not the entire class. There wasn’t much pasta left at the end of the day, but Dr. Bane and Paulette got enough for themselves, and a few of the others got some too. After that, I was on the Doc’s heels. We had walked about three or four blocks when we realized no one was following us. I knew where they lived, so I said they probably weren’t going to follow. Paulette wanted to go to the bookstore, so we went, discussed Italian book titles, and had a good time just browsing. I walked them to a Tabacchi (tobacco store that sells stamps) and then back to their apartment and bid them adieu, and went and checked my mail again. Then I came up to the apartment, changed, and doctored all of my blasted mosquito bites. Rachel had put my sheets in the washer in case whatever it was actually in my sheets. After they were finally done, I put my other clothes in (see: revenge).
I’ve been sitting here writing and reading for the last four hours – but it’s been nice. I finished Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs finally (a must-read for all American culture freaks – even though that becomes an oxymoron by the end of the book). I’ve finished all of my journal entries, including today’s, and I’m enjoying feeling caught-up – albeit temporarily.
I can only remember one question that’s been asked, but I’ll go ahead and answer it here.
The question (paraphrased): what else besides water, a camera, and a journal have you found to be handy when walking around Italy? – Dylan, Detroit I think (nee Conway)
Answer: Well, little else honestly. I have a phrase book, but I don’t really need it. It’s helpful. Things like
“Che cosa mi consiglia?” (What do you recommend?) have popped up more than once, but otherwise, many people here know enough English to help us tourists out. To this end, I’ve seen the stereotypical ugly American, speaking in rapid English to native Italian speakers. Most have figured out English on their own because they have to use it so frequently, but it’s almost like people feel like they’ve never left the United States.
Anyway, yes, a phrasebook has proven helpful – especially when in non-touristy areas. Otherwise, I carry my backpack around in case I buy souvenirs. Hands get awfully tired when lugging cheap crap you’ve bought all day.
Also, something that I’ve discovered extremely recently: bug spray. Mosquitos are just as large here as in Arkansas, some even bigger. Some of the bites don’t itch, people claim (I’m not one of them). Just use bug spray and keep your windows closed. It’ll be better that way.
Otherwise, a keen eye for a deal and a good map will work wonders. The only reason I’m the navigator is because I pay attention to what street we’re on and how far away that is from where we need to be.
Hope that answers your question. Keep ‘em coming!
