Perugia, Roma, Firenze, e Calzedonia

So much happens and I don't have time to write!!

Last weekend we went to Perugia. I'll post photos eventually. It was lovely. As always, the four of us had some interesting traveling experiences. This time the trip included an untimely torrential rainstorm; enormous pancakes-filled-with-sandwich-meat (called piadine, a Roman specialty) and also my first experience with Italian fast food; a bus strike; a farmhouse hostel in the Umbrian countryside complete with goats, cats, kittens, an Italian girl with a Kansas accent, her large and lovable boyfriend from Kansas, foosball, local wine, nonni, and farm-fresh eggs; an underground city filled with chocolate vendors; the piazze di Perugia filled with chocolate vendors; mobs cramming for free samples; and a chocolate-overdose-induced stupor.

The weekend before that we went to Rome. This trip cannot be summarized really. A few notable highlights:
Giulotti: fabulous gelato. I ate fig, banana, cioccolate fondente, pistacchio, and bacio (choco-hazelnut.) Covered with house-made panna (whipped cream.)
Societe Lucerne: delicious aperitivi buffet. The travel guide told us we would find effortlessly beautiful people, and we did. Literally everyone was effortlessly beautiful.

There's more, but for another time.

As the days go by I love Italian more and more. There are so many different aspects of the language and culture to love. I love the hand gestures. I love the superlatives. I love saying "Prego," and "Buona Sera," and "permesso." I love learning new words! Impensabile. Diffusissimo. Candelo. I like all of the old ladies who ride the bus with me every morning to do their grocery shopping, and I love running through the winding roads in the Tuscan countryside, while tiny cars zoom by at incredible speeds, and I can see the hills falling away draped in olive trees and studded with grandi ville overlooking all of their roba.

I like walking through Florence like I know what I'm doing here and I like it when people aren't sure what language to speak to me in. Today, in oviesse, I took six articles into the fitting room and a security guard stopped me. "Signorina! Ma quanta roba ce l'hai?" "Sei. Va bene?" "No. La prossima volta, no. Solo tre. E porta tutta indietro dopo." I later saw him affront an American male wandering through the store with a bottle of beer. "Not in here," he said. "All right, I'm walking out, I'm walking," said American male.

Were an American to remain here permanently, one could form a very negative opinion of one's own country based on their behavior abroad. It almost would make it easier to stay, because you don't see many of the positive aspects of American culture here. The strange part of moving abroad to me seems to be leaving your country behind and having it move forward without you.

On a lighter note, here is a nice Italian commercial. I guess I like even the non-food ones.

Like me, the Italians love food. How do I know? I can see it on television. Yes, Americans have our own food advertising. It consists of "food porn" (showing the food in a close-up, larger-than-life shot, which has been scientifically proven to instill cravings for this food in the viewer.) It's not elegant. And from what I remember it emphasizes the social aspects of eating-- a group of buddies enjoying the never-ending nachos at TGI Friday's, for example.

Italian food advertising is about pleasure. See below:

Oggi

Things that happened today:
1. I overslept.

2. I ate breakfast very quickly. (caffe latte, apple con yogurt al frutti di bosco).

3. My host mom drove Dalia and me to our bus stop.

4. Since we arrived early, I walked across the street to L'Angolo del Caffe`. This shop has an amazing array of products after my own heart, including one million different varieties of chocolate, several types of cookies including cantucci (these Tuscan cookies are similar in shape to what Americans call biscotti, that is: crunchy and designed for dipping. Cantucci are meant for dipping in vinsanto [sweet dessert wine], not coffee, Italians assure you, although they go well with coffee too. I'd even eat them dry, but Italians won't. You can get them in all kinds of different gusti, usually almond but also chocolate, pistacchio, and cherry.) Last night, Babbo and I walked in to buy 2 chocolate bars (one dark, one dark with black licorish/ liquirizia ) and he introduced me to the family that owns this shop. Babbo is a vecchio cliente and told me that I will be treated well when I go there. He suggested a project in which eventually, I will taste every single chocolate in the shop and decide on the best one. One per day. So this morning I bought 2 Fiats. Cioccolate fondente ripiena di crema di Fiat! In the shape of a Fiat. Crema di Fiat, is, SURPRISE! fluffly chocolate-hazelnut cream. Nocciole are omnipresent in Italian dolci. Dalia and I ate our Fiats during the break between classes today. I'm not sure if any of the other chocolates can top this one, but I'm willing to find out. The signore also gave me a freebie... perhaps it will be tomorrow's choice.

5. After school, Dalia and I bought some panforte, which we have ogled in shop windows for one month and decided to finally sample today. We bought it in a bar at Piazza San Marco. Like many other Italians, the shopkeeper complimented us on our Italian. Come mai parlate Italiano cosi bene? Siete veramente bravissime! They're always very happy to hear Italian spoken by foreigners, and to converse with us in Italian. People who work in the service business in Florence (hotels, bars, shops) probably spend most of their time speaking English. They're always interested to find out why we speak Italian, and what we're doing here. It's been fun to chat with random Italians.

6. I updated my blog, which needs updating! See assorted pictures below, in chronological order, with brief captions.


Il Tramonto del Sole, maybe one month ago:
in the midst of our uphill trek from bus-stop to home.




























Italians don't understand why Americans don't eat rabbit. I've eaten it here and enjoyed it. Still I was a bit taken aback when I saw these adorable bunnies on jars of rabbit-flavored baby food.














This is at the wine festival nei Chianti. I bought a class and could sample as many different types of Chianti as I wanted. More pictures of this spectacular event in an upcoming post.

Current favorite Italian phrases/words:

Ma non e` vero! (It's not true!)
Dondolare (the way that young people dance in clubs, bouncing around)
Ho da fare. (I've got some stuff to do.)
L'hai fatto apposto! (You did it on purpose!)
Dammi cinque! (High five!)
Noi siamo gran mangiatori di biscotti. (We're great cookie-eaters.)

I learn a lot of new words, but then I forget them. Usually it takes a lot of repetition to remember it, but listening to my Italian family speak helps a lot.

Mi dispiace per questo pausa lunga...

Poverino blog! I haven't posted anything in a while, though I've had much to post. So I'll start as far back as I can remember, and maybe I won't write everything I want to tonight...

A few weeks ago, our host family took Dalia/Dallas and me to eat schiacciata up in the hills at a place renowned for it. Schiacciata is a type of bread typical to Tuscany... it is flat and salty, usually baked in a large pancake-shaped loaf. Tuscans eat it as a sandwich with mortadello or prosciutto and cheese, or as a dessert with grapes baked into it. At a bar you can select a giant (loaf-sized) pre-made schiacciata and have a human-sized piece cut off for you.

This was a Sunday night and we ate outside at picnic tables, surrounded by a tough-looking older couple, a man with his dog (too close for my personal comfort), and a huge group of teenagers. This place is so popular that you have to call ahead. While Nonna waited in line for ours, we took a walk with Babbo around the area, and saw the house he lived in as a child.

I don't think this is it, but I liked their plants. In general I like the domestic Italian gardens I've seen so far-- like this one, they have many small pots, usually filled with greenery or succulents. Italians grow hydrangeas in pots. I don't know why. Windowboxes are also popular, and when there is an apartment building with many levels and balconies, almost every balcony has planted windowboxes overflowing. On the side of the road when we walk to the bus, there are giant bushes of rosemary, lavender, and lemon verbena.











Speaking of the bus... we spend a lot of time there. Everything depends on when you go. In rush hour, it can take an hour... during the lunch hour, it takes 35 minutes. Without fail, bus time is entertaining, even though it is often uncomfortable as well. Too hot, too close, too much b.o., bad driving, having to stand for an hour. Yet as a foreigner, I enjoy observing the Italians on the bus. Yes, they are mostly all well-dressed, from the teenagers going to school to the older women in non-orthopedic shoes.


Usually we walk to and from the bus stop, but one day we encountered Babbo in his motorino and he brought us home. Apparently most Italians receive a motorino on their 14th birthday. They are a popular approach to the narrow, winding Tuscan streets and heavy traffic-- the motorini scoot around cars, zoom past buses, and easily find parking by the side of the road.












So. Now the story of our viaggio alla spiaggia. A week ago four girls decided to travel to Cinque Terre to swim. It was a learning experience.
This is the chic seaside town of Portovenere. It is not, in fact, one of the Cinque Terre (five tiny towns), but is nearby and worth seeing, according to Nonna. Our experience in Portovenere was regretfully short-- "It was Ciao and Ciao," as Dalia said. We expected to find a room in a quaint inn or bed and breakfast, of which we were told there would be many, with many rooms available, it being September, not the rush-season of August. Yet there is apparently a September off-season backlash, and there are only 4 inns in Portovenere, and they were all full.

In the next segment, I'll discuss the other 48 hours of the viaggio, plus many other intriguing tidbits of personal experience.

A presto (speriamo.)

The photos in the below posts are from a walk near the area of our house in Antella.

Wow! (Italians use this word too because there isn't really an equivalent Italian expression.) I have been here in Florence for one week exactly. I feel like it's been forever...In my mind, it's been at least a month.

Each day my world here expands a little bit, I learn a little more, try something new, and explore a different place. It's almost impossible to describe my experience. I think my favorite parts so far have been the conversations with random Italians on the bus or in stores or on the street, when I feel happily surprised that they understand me (even when we are speaking in the simplest terms.) Italians that I have turned to for help have been extremely polite.

We get to do a lot of people-watching on our bus rides-- about 30 minutes each way from Antella to Florence. And eavesdropping... although I can't always capeesh what's being said, I'm still crazy about it all being Italian. Last summer I heard Italian spoken a few times in a crowd and I tried so hard to understand...Like Elizabeth Gilbert says in Eat, Pray, Love, Italy seems like an unimaginable paradise for those who love to hear Italian.

Every day really is full of ups and downs, as all travellers' days are, I suppose. There are challenges everywhere, and unexpected loveliness everywhere as well.

And of course one of my favorite parts of the day is trying new Italian food that my host mom, who I will call Nonna because that really is who she is, a wonderful Nonna, prepares. Tonight we ate panzanella: it's a summer salad with tomatoes, cucumbers, bread, basil, and vinegar. Nonna told me that you should never cut basil with a knife because it changes the flavor-- instead she rips it up with her fingers. For secondi piatti we had salad and calimari alla Romana (fried.) Che buoni! And after dinner, we tasted preserved cherries (ciligie) grown in the garden behind the house. Nonna e Babbo put them in a big jar with sugar and let them sit in the sun (they couldn't agree... was it for 10 days or a few months?) They taste amazing. After sitting in the sun, they shrink down to the size of chickpeas and most of the liquid leaves them.

More later.... ciao!