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
9:00 AM
6-17-07
CT 5:05
IT 12:05
Solemn Goodbyes and the Promises Within.
(Again, two days have passed since these events.)
I had to get up and be checked out before 9, which is the most ridiculous check-out time in history. After I settled everything, I got some pre-packaged toast and hit the road. The right bus didn’t come, so I went ahead and walked to S.M.E. It was the last time I was going to get to see it, so it was just as well for me to take advantage of the hike. I took the first boat to Piazza San Marco so I could do one of the other museums on my short itinerary for the day. The Ducal Palace (meaning the Duke or Doge’s residence) was my first stop.
The palace is extremely huge and full of decent artwork (it’s not nearly as ornate as the Palazzo Vecchio in my opinion, but I didn’t get to take the secret tour of the Doge’s palace). The Doge of Venice was a duke without much political or religious power (it was mostly ruled by councils and the like). Because of this I’m not actually sure what the actual role of the Doge was. To live in the palace? To have a figurehead ruler for life? I really don’t know. I didn’t have any tour information when I was going through and the book I bought at the end wasn’t really that specific about the office. I suppose I’ll have to do separate reading. The actual construction of the palace was different than other palazzi (if that is indeed the plural) that I’ve been in. There were quite a few interesting differences between it and other places I’ve been, so that was kind of fun.
After I got out of the Ducal Palace, I decided two things. The first was that I would call Dr. Bane and tell him that if he wanted to meet me where I was (it’s fun to be alone and do stuff on your own, but I like having people to share the experience with as well). The second was that I had gotten my money’s worth out of my San Marco Plus pass and that it was time to get most of my shopping done. That said, I headed toward the next boat to the Rialto Bridge. It was extremely crowded, but it was a rather short ride compared to many of the others.
Once I got to the Rialto Bridge, I headed for the lace shop and the glass shop, which faced each other on either side of the bridge walkway. In the Burano lace shop I pulled out my Italian 101 lessons and used “Questo” (“this one”) on three different items and pulled out my card, mindful of the exchange rate that was supposedly phenomenally high. I then went to the Murano glass shop and bought some more families after some deliberation. When they ran my card, this particular shop showed me what it would be in USD as well. It should have said $25 in USD if the exchange rate was what the signs around town were saying, but it said $23 and some odd cents. I thought this was highly peculiar, so I went to a nearby ATM. On the way I saw a sign in a window that said 1.38 – meaning that the place I had seen originally was charging an outrageous rate of at least 12 cents over the exchange rate. I withdrew the last bit of my money that I could, with enough to pay Dr. Bane back for the gondola ride and dinner, and felt a great weight lift off of my shoulders. Exchange rates wreak havoc on your soul. Believe me.
I got some gelato (limone is especially good in Venice, according to my expert opinion) and headed back to St. Mark’s in case Dr. Bane called. He never did, so I wandered around the square once or twice, bought some corn, fed the pigeons, and headed to Ferrovia (lit. “street of iron”) to the train station. I got a tuna sandwich and a water a and sat in the train station for over an hour waiting on people. Slowly people I knew started trickling in until we were all present and accounted for. We all got on the train together and mostly fell asleep. I felt a strong pang of sadness. Venice had been my favorite, especially due to its peacefulness. But with every goodbye, there is a hope of another meeting, chance or no. I’ll wait for my next chance. Goodbyes are never forever anyway.
Toward the end of the trip, most of us started waking up and talking. We reminisced (about the trip, about Baridon, etc.) until we got to Florence. Once we got off the train, Dr. Bane and Paulette invited as many of us as wanted to go to Gilli (the chocolate store that is apparently a restaurant as well) to meet Danielle. I was the only one that went, but I figured I could use a cheap dinner. Much to my distress, it was neither cheap nor a full dinner. I got nearly the same thing I did in Rome at the L’insalata place and it was about 1/3 of the size with harder cheese. I was disappointed, especially since it cost an outrageous 11.50. Win some, lose some.
Afterward, we decided to go in and get chocolate. I got a rossa, cremini, caffe, and some kind of toffee type chocolate. I ate my caffe first. It had a coffee bean on top. It was crunchy and, of course, bitter, but it was good. I had the rossa next, which looked like it was dipped in white chocolate. I took a bite and nearly spit it out. Danielle had hers next, and she described at as tasting like potpourri. We agreed on this (Dr. Bane took a bite and spit it back out). The cremini was the best out of the ones I had had so far, as it tasted the most like a crème caramel chocolate. Then I had the toffee thing, which was pretty disgusting as well. I knew I wasn’t a big chocolate fan for a reason. I think it’s because, for the most part, chocolate is big miss on flavor with me. I’ve never been much of a sweets fan anyway. As good after dinner conversation, someone began talking about Dr. Bane’s daughter being in the girl scouts, which prompted me to tell the story of my feet.*
I walked back with Dr. Bane and Paulette toward their apartment on Bargello and headed back toward my apartment. After I got up the room, I began cataloguing all of my loot for others and tried to figure out who I was missing. Then I realized that I was going to have quite a time getting all of my things home and began brainstorming for that huge obstacle.
After a long day, I went straight to bed. I was exhausted (and extremely hot – the summer’s are just as bad here as they are in Arkansas, except with no air conditioning). But at the same time, I was discouraged at how Venice had simply come and gone – quietly all the while. One day I will have to come back, and I can’t wait to do so.
*“….which prompted me to tell the story of my feet.”: For those of you who are extremely queasy, or are not interested in any sidenotes that don’t have to do with my experiences in Italy or thoughts on the world abroad, you might not want to read on.
When I was in second grade, I was in Girl Scouts. One weekend we all went on a mandatory camping trip. There were something like 10 or 15 girls on said trip, and we were all supposed to sleep in the same tent. As probably could have been expected, there wasn’t enough room in the tent for all of us and the chaperones, so my mom was going to sleep outside the tent. I decided I would sleep with her. My mom let me have the side closest to the fire to keep warm in the night. In no time we were both sound asleep.
Now there is some bylaw in Girl Scout code that has a mandatory time that the fire must be put out. The women who were with us were too absorbed in conversation to really pay attention to what was going on (what harm could come from a fire that was nearly down to the coals anyway?). It turns out that my sleeping bag was on an incline. I more than likely slid than rolled, but the effect was the same: I ended up with the foot end of my sleeping bag in the fire. I woke up to the smell of something burning (you can imagine what), and saw the sleeping bag on fire before I registered that my feet were also burning.
I started screaming and scooted out of the sleeping bag as fast as I could, but the damage was done. The nylon had melted into my foot, and I was in a lot of pain. My mom started screaming, the women started babbling, and the other scouts were flabbergasted. Thus we went to the hospital and I had to be driven to Children’s Hospital in Little Rock – in an ambulance!
Somewhat later on my foot got infected and it had to be scrubbed with a fingernail brush – which is one of the most painful experiences I can somewhat remember in my entire life. In the end, I was in a wheelchair for two months before I could recover enough to walk on my own again without crutches.
That is the story of my feet. Not too pleasant, I know.
Posted by
Unknown
8:53 AM
6-14-07
CT 5:57
IT 12:57
Today wasn’t actually that exciting, but I of course have to tell you about it anyway.
We had decided to meet at the school at 10:00 to go to the Bargello, a museum exclusive to sculpture and little else. When we all got to the school, we headed toward the museum, trying to figure out what time we should meet for class in the afternoon (usually the decision is between 2-4 and 4-6). In Florence there are always cars trying to go through crowds of people in the streets. Well, most of us were on the sidewalk, but it was a really tight squeeze. A taxi was coming through the street and honked its horn for us to move out of the road. The next thing I heard was the smack of the taxi hitting something behind me and a blood-curdling scream. Turns out, it was my roommate.
I know what you’re thinking: Oh my God, is she okay? Of course she’s okay. The silly goose got hit wit the rear-view mirror and it folded against the car. It mostly hit her backpack (later on I heard “Oh man, my pastries!” – referring to our stop at the 99 cent store on the way to school that morning. Don’t worry. They were okay.), but it just really surprised her. We all laughed and giggled nervously, wonder what could have happened if she had really been in the street. Not surprisingly to us, the taxi never stopped.
Anyway, the rest of our short trip to the Bargello turned out to be uneventful, and we got into the museum with no problems (besides having to check our backpacks). The museum holds a lot of examples of Donatello’s work, so it was really interesting to see one of the Ninja Turtles body of work. There were lots of very different things there too, like a lot of booty from the Crusades and metal work from nations across Europe. There was even a medieval suit of armor, but we saw it through a window and couldn’t actually get to it because that wing of the Bargello (once a medieval prison) was closed. Paulette even asked for me.
After the Bargello Halley, Rachel, and I decided that we needed to catch up on reading. We went to the break room of Kent State, ate candy bars and pastries (unsmooshed), and drank coke and water while we read. I couldn’t read that long (I’m not really sure why – I think I was just bored with the whole prospect), so I drew on my hand this elaborate picture of God knows what. It started as a watch drawn on my tan line, but it ended up having a guy eating my watch while poking it with a pitchfork (which gushes dye on to this Frenchman’s cap and neck tie), while bees come out of his hair and swarm around a hunny pot, which drips yellow droplets onto an umbrella – all while a huge smiling sun hides behind two thunder clouds that are throwing lightning bolts that are electrocuting at least one bee. It was an odd picture, and I certainly didn’t mean for it to be a work of art, but it looked pretty interesting traveling up my arm. I even colored in the backs of my fingers with check marks. Anyway, the other two never even noticed until just before class time two hours later. They were engrossed and I was not. What can I say.
Class was the most interesting we’ve had. We talked very little about the Decameron (which has some great stories), but about religion and sex in American – two of the best topics ever. It was more about money, wealth, and poverty than the other two, but religion got in there because of biblical ideas on money. It was an extremely useful conversation, I think. Caitlin and I continued the conversation afterward on certain highlights, which is even more fun.
I had to go to the grocery store after class because I had promised to make pasta for five or six (the across-the-Arno apartment, Rachel, and me). I got pasta, sauce, spices, and cheese for 13 Euro and had enough to feed us all, or so I thought. When we went back to the apartment and I actually started cooking, it ended up being enough to feed all of us plus four or five more. It was pretty insane, but nobody went hungry and everyone liked it.
After dinner, we all laid around like we were wounded. None of us could move, and there was still desert. After we managed to cram some of that down, we decided to formulate a plan for the night. Some of the guys (three of the five that were still on the trip) wanted to go out to the pub. The girls wanted to meet them, but I needed to get online. Since they were going to a place by my apartment, they would just call me when they got there.
I got online, posted journals, and waited. I didn’t hear anything from anybody. Turns out, they had forgotten to call me, saying that I was supposed to call them. So I went anyway. I had one beer because I didn’t want to sit there for an hour with nothing in hand. We did get Dr. Bane and Paulette to come out for about an hour, which was that much more fun. Rachel and I decided to walk Megan home around twelve and we got home around 12:20. I decided to call my mom and grandmother because I hadn’t done it this weekend like I had promised (Rome was an extremely busy weekend). We all talked and got to hear each other’s voices. I packed and then went to bed
And that was my day, the highlight being my roommate being hit by a car.
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.)
6-12-07
CT 2:47
IT 9:47
Back and Barely Kicking.
Today was my first full day back “home” from Rome. It was interesting how quickly I latched on to Florence after coming back. I feel like a little girl who’s gone to the big city from her country home only to find it unwelcoming. Though I would hardly call myself a little girl, or coming from a country home in Florence, the situation was most certainly comparable. The sights, smells, and feeling of Florence was welcoming to me, and I felt like I’d come to a place where I could at least rest.
We met at the school at 10:00 this morning. Apparently Rome was kind enough to give us some type of plague, as we acquired somewhat of an “attrition rate” with sick people. One couldn’t even show up, and five or six more were sick but able to come. I was relatively fine, though I was a bit upset that I was in my very last set of clean clothes. As far as the condition of the group went, I was in tip-top shape. We stopped at the American Express so Dr. Bane and Paulette could buy our train tickets to Venezia (Venice). While we were waiting, I asked Natalie about the Cat Sanctuary in Rome, because she happened to stumble across it after I’d been looking for it for an hour. She said that the sanctuary is actually part of the ruins, and for 7 of the 14 years they have been in them, the police have tried to kick them out for technically being illegal. Cats that wander into the ruins are spayed and neutered and given free surgery if they need it. If someone calls them, they can go get the cat, spay and neuter them, let them heal, and release them back into the neighborhood. If they’re in the ruins, they can keep them. They said they get a lot of eye infections, so they have quite a few blind cats that can’t go back out. But after they have their own cage for two months, they are put in a room together for two months. If that works out, then they are released back into the ruins. During surgery, the sanctuary will clip the tip of the cat’s ear as an identifier. Turns out most of the cats they take care of stay in the ruins of Torre Argentina. Natalie said she applauded their work, as it was all volunteers, and that they have done a lot to help the cat population in Rome. Apparently, Italy doesn’t support spaying and neutering because they believe it will put vets out of business. (Side note: Natalie also said that after WWII, Italians vowed to never eat cats again even if times were as desperate as they had been.)
Our first stop was the Church of Santa Maria Novella. For those of you who have read or heard of (or done neither) Giovanni Boccaccio’s “The Decameron”, the characters in the frame story are actually in this same church, hiding from the plague. Though the story is just that, Dr. Bane said they do believe people came to the church to hide from the plague. The church was absolutely gorgeous. It felt as big as the Duomo without the dome. There were famous pieces in there by all different artists. The stained glass windows were beautiful. Some of them were positioned just right to allow the sunlight to carry the colors. There were no pictures allowed, or I would have taken a million photos. Instead I bought an 8 Euro book with full color photos to commemorate the experience and to help the church restore the paintings (ticket and gift shop proceeds go to restoring the pieces in the church). It has the first and only nude crucifix I’ve seen in all of Italy (by Brunelleschi) and huge floor to ceiling frescos that were absolutely breathtaking. (This is also where we saw a fresco with something like a hundred saints in it with one of them holding a Gremlin-like creature.)
Next we went to the Medici Chapel. This was probably the highlight of the day, simply because of its ostentatious ugliness. When we entered we were ushered into the reliquary room. Bones of saints were in impossibly elaborate vials, cases, and chests. There was even a jaw bone. I remember reading about St. Peter’s Basilica and how it was formed in a time when a church’s worth was judged by the gravity of its relics, which is why St. Peter’s became the most well known church in the world. I think the Medicis had the same thought, though the relics held in the chapel were in the philosophy of “quantity, not quality.” Thus saints I had never heard of had bones I had never thought of inside glass cases for the purpose of power. How ironic to live such a life of pious devotion, only to be used for someone else’s means in death.
We went up into the actual chapel part of the church and were absolutely stunned at what we saw. Everything was made from different types of marble. Marble sarcophagi as big as a bedroom, decorated with the crest with six circles, housed the most important men of the Medici family. I thought the marble was absolutely hideous, with its greens, maroons, and purples, but others thought it was gorgeous. So goes taste, I guess.
The next part of the chapel we entered was the “famous” (though none of us had ever heard of it) tomb of Lorenzo il Magnifico (the Magnificent). The tomb was decorated with sculptures by Michelangelo. The men were pretty, but two of them had unfinished faces. However, the women were so grossly incorrect that we all had to stare and point out exactly what was wrong with them for ten minutes. “They” were off to the sides and muscular. Like the master had started them like a man’s and then tried to mound them off. We then discussed the possibilities of him being gay as well as what a cadaver’s breasts would look like (since Michelangelo dissected them illegally to understand anatomy). Then we carried on to the exhibits and the Basilica of San Lorenzo.
We went ahead and did the exhibits first, which included the Laurentian Library - a room of desks connected to a library (all designed by Michelangelo), and an exhibit of animali fantastici – imaginary animals. It was extremely interesting to look at illuminated manuscripts and see what people thought existed. Sirens (sirene), satyrs (satire), dragons (draghi), phoenixes (fenice), centaurs (which I don’t remember the Italian for) etc. They even had 14th or 15th century editions of The Aeneid (Eneide) and Divine Comedy. Dr. Bane was very pleased.
San Lorenzo is just as beautiful as Santa Maria Novella. It was consecrated in 393 and then reconsecrated in 1059 after being “considerably enlarged,” reads the brochure. However, I will say Santa Maria is not only prettier but better for this reason: San Lorenzo was the Medici’s private church. Symbols are everywhere of their power and influence. The church is huge, but it hasn’t got as much heart as others – at least, that’s what I’ve gathered.
Anyway, after this we were free to go. I decided to buy a gelato just for kicks since I saw limone (lemon) for the very first time. I got it and fragola (strawberry) in what I thought was a small cup. It ended up being a 6 Euro cup, but it was as big as three little ones (or at least I fooled myself into thinking of it this way). Either way, it’s more than I ever meant to pay. I went back to the room to find Rachel, who had disappeared during the last part of our outing (she said she had thought we were done). I gathered up Dante for a good read, but found I was too tired for his words and fell asleep without a hitch. Turns out Rachel did too, so we both got up about 3:20 and got ready for class at 4.
Dr. Bane zoomed through the rest of the Divine Comedy without any hitches until we reached the end of Purgatorio. He asked if we caught what was going on during one of the chapters. Purgatory is shaped like a mountain. In Canto XX or so, Dante asks Virgil what’s going on when the mountain shakes. Virgil tells him that the mountain shakes when souls have walked through the fire and have been thrown up into the heavens, singing and shouting, “In Excelsis Deo!” Dr. Bane asked us again, after reading it, if we got it. I got it when he said it, but the rest of the class just stared at him.
“The mountain shakes… * crazy hand motions * People say, ‘Oh God!’ * hands up in the air * and are shot out, purified.” Most of the class doesn’t get it, while I crack up at him trying to mime what’s going on. Finally, after two or three more tries and writing the word “phallic” on the board and discussing what a phallic symbol is, people finally began to get it. Then we started talking about if that was overanalyzing it, and somehow we got to discussing the origins of art (Michelangelo’s Pieta was put on powerpoint to talk about how he researched cadavers to get the anatomy correct – do we really want to know the origins of art?). Then we talked about the commercialization of religion and how “Piss Christ” (a cheap crucifix in a jar of urine with light shining on it) is less offensive than Buddy Christ and Jesus is my Homeboy t-shirts (I argued it wasn’t because “Jesus is my Homeboy” is doctrine for many people, as opposed to the symbolism behind “Piss Christ”). Then we got into the role of women, and I talked about a friend who had taken Gender and Sexuality, and how they had to watch a video about women in Judaism. The woman, a lesbian, had gone to the Rabbi, asking what she was to do about her feelings. The Rabbi told her a) get married and have as many children as possible, because that is a woman’s role after the Holocaust, and b) if you can’t manage your feelings, have someone “on the side.” My argument in this being that culture has changed to allow for traditional roles and personal desires to coexist. Then we got into the reasons why people have children, including the new conservative movement that says it’s every man’s duty to have as many children as they can so they can breed out the liberal population. Finally, class was over.
We all went to a nearby market, where I didn’t see anything in particular, and decided to go on back to the apartment. I really wanted to eat out, so I stopped at a Mesopotamian restaurant and got a “doner kebab con formaggio.” It had veal, lettuce, cabbage, creamy sauce, tomatoes, and delicious cheese – all wrapped in a pita. It was absolutely divine. It was 5 Euro and pretty filling, so I’ll only go there in a pinch. I went back up to the room, played a bit of Command & Conquer: Red Alert, finished a journal entry, worked on this one, drank a 1.5 Liter bottle (bottiglia) of water (acqua) in one sitting, and washed a load of clothes. I’ve been fairly productive while people went out and saw Ocean’s 13 (I hadn’t seen the first two).
And now I’m so tired and still have to read. Sugarfoot.
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.
