Tuesday, December 4, 2007
I'm Back in Town
Yep, that's right folks. I'm back in Fairfield, IA. Arrived on Wed. Nov. 28 - my birthday. It's been great to just relax, eat, sleep, and hang out. Anyway, if anyone in Fairfield is reading this, I'm home! (for the time being) Maybe I will see you around!
Monday, November 19, 2007
London
Smooth jazz tunes floating above me, into my ears. Christmas tunes. "Santa Claus is comin' to town." Drizzle outside, penetrating. Red double decker buses stacked up like playing cards along the opposite side of the street. Car headlights slicing through darkness, bouncing off of puddles in the road. Red and green stoplights. Black taxicab. Umbrellas of all different colours. Horn honking, siren swooning. All observed from behind the safety of the coffee shop window. This is Trafalgar Square, London, at 6:47 pm, Monday, November 19, 2007.
My hair is sassy and cute, curly and sweet. Went to Toni & Guy (a school for hair dressers) today to have it cut. My hairdresser was from Greece, but she spoke Spanish. There was a translator. The whole room was full of people like me, having their hair cut by hair dressing students. There was one teacher for about every 5-6 students. It was quite an experience. I felt very Vogue...
They said I'd look good with some color - We'll see. I don't know if I feel that bold.
I gotta go, cause this shop is closing!
Cheers
G'night
My hair is sassy and cute, curly and sweet. Went to Toni & Guy (a school for hair dressers) today to have it cut. My hairdresser was from Greece, but she spoke Spanish. There was a translator. The whole room was full of people like me, having their hair cut by hair dressing students. There was one teacher for about every 5-6 students. It was quite an experience. I felt very Vogue...
They said I'd look good with some color - We'll see. I don't know if I feel that bold.
I gotta go, cause this shop is closing!
Cheers
G'night
Notre Dame, Paris
"There is not any physical way possible for Man to be out of God." -Me
Paris, ooh it was good. Full of magic and mystery and intrigue. Snobbery, high fashion, leather boots and tight-ankle jeans. The Eiffel Tower, Centre di Pompidou, Louvre, Notre Dame. Here's a nice story about my visit to Notre Dame:
I entered. Felt the usual uplift of breath as my attention floated upward into the gentle curvature of arches. The stained glass windows were briliant mosaics of rich contrasting hues, the light from outside illuminating each segment. They reminded me of jolly rancher candies. There weren't windows like this in Italy, where instead the walls of the churches were plastered (literally) with frescoes and paintings.
Usually in every gorgeous church there is a sacred area reserved specifically for prayer (No tourists allowed). I like to visit these spaces because they FEEL so sacred, holy, cherished. In Notre Dame I almost passed this space by, but changed my mind and doubled back to slide quietly into one of the wooden pews. I had been in a bit of a grumbly mood - it was cold out, I was a little sick. I was here in church in Europe for the millionth time, closing my eyes and feigning prayer when all I was really doing was dipping into sweet silence. Usually in this situation actual words of prayer feel contrived and silly, but this time I was searching for something.
I was wondering about angels. I certainly believe in them, and I knew from the feeling in this church that they were here. I asked myself, I subtley posed a question internally, "God, send me a sign that there are angels. I want to see an angel. If they exist, then show me one."
I opened my eyes to see a radiant black woman standing near the front pews, looking at me with glowing eyes and beckoning me to come closer. In my quiet prayer-state, I thought, "Wow, an answer! She's an angel!" But of course my rational thinking mind said, "No, of course not, she doesn't have anything to do with me - she's must be motioning to someone else." But no. She motioned again. I questioned her with my eyes, and after her third beckoning gesture, I finally gave in and moved up closer to the altar to sit next to her. As I did, she began singing (in French) in the most radiant resounding voice I have ever heard...as if summoning all the gods and the angels to assemble and celebrate. She switched on the lights on either side of the altar, illuminating the sacred space. Then she began a rosary service, in French.
At this point I had to do some realizing and subsequent smiling. If this woman was an answer to my request, "Show me an angel," which it sure seemed like she was, then all humans must be angels. I am saying that humans are angels. I know I am repeating myself, but in all their human-ness, they ARE the highest expression of creation (at least that I know of...who knows, maybe in other realms there are more glorious beings, but I have not been there, or if I have I do not remember).
Humans have the ability to experience ANYTHING, do ANYTHING, create ANYTHING. Isn't that what "God" and "The Angels" do? God and his angels...they aren't separate entities floating around in space. They're in us, they are us - our very heart strings play their song every day. How could they not? How could Man not sing the song of God? There is no physical way possible for man to be out of God. The idea is absurd. As is the idea that Man could ever upset God, or deserve punishment from him. Man is God, all-powerful, and as such He is responsible for His own actions and their repercussions. It is so. Man creates anything. Anything.
Paris, ooh it was good. Full of magic and mystery and intrigue. Snobbery, high fashion, leather boots and tight-ankle jeans. The Eiffel Tower, Centre di Pompidou, Louvre, Notre Dame. Here's a nice story about my visit to Notre Dame:
I entered. Felt the usual uplift of breath as my attention floated upward into the gentle curvature of arches. The stained glass windows were briliant mosaics of rich contrasting hues, the light from outside illuminating each segment. They reminded me of jolly rancher candies. There weren't windows like this in Italy, where instead the walls of the churches were plastered (literally) with frescoes and paintings.
Usually in every gorgeous church there is a sacred area reserved specifically for prayer (No tourists allowed). I like to visit these spaces because they FEEL so sacred, holy, cherished. In Notre Dame I almost passed this space by, but changed my mind and doubled back to slide quietly into one of the wooden pews. I had been in a bit of a grumbly mood - it was cold out, I was a little sick. I was here in church in Europe for the millionth time, closing my eyes and feigning prayer when all I was really doing was dipping into sweet silence. Usually in this situation actual words of prayer feel contrived and silly, but this time I was searching for something.
I was wondering about angels. I certainly believe in them, and I knew from the feeling in this church that they were here. I asked myself, I subtley posed a question internally, "God, send me a sign that there are angels. I want to see an angel. If they exist, then show me one."
I opened my eyes to see a radiant black woman standing near the front pews, looking at me with glowing eyes and beckoning me to come closer. In my quiet prayer-state, I thought, "Wow, an answer! She's an angel!" But of course my rational thinking mind said, "No, of course not, she doesn't have anything to do with me - she's must be motioning to someone else." But no. She motioned again. I questioned her with my eyes, and after her third beckoning gesture, I finally gave in and moved up closer to the altar to sit next to her. As I did, she began singing (in French) in the most radiant resounding voice I have ever heard...as if summoning all the gods and the angels to assemble and celebrate. She switched on the lights on either side of the altar, illuminating the sacred space. Then she began a rosary service, in French.
At this point I had to do some realizing and subsequent smiling. If this woman was an answer to my request, "Show me an angel," which it sure seemed like she was, then all humans must be angels. I am saying that humans are angels. I know I am repeating myself, but in all their human-ness, they ARE the highest expression of creation (at least that I know of...who knows, maybe in other realms there are more glorious beings, but I have not been there, or if I have I do not remember).
Humans have the ability to experience ANYTHING, do ANYTHING, create ANYTHING. Isn't that what "God" and "The Angels" do? God and his angels...they aren't separate entities floating around in space. They're in us, they are us - our very heart strings play their song every day. How could they not? How could Man not sing the song of God? There is no physical way possible for man to be out of God. The idea is absurd. As is the idea that Man could ever upset God, or deserve punishment from him. Man is God, all-powerful, and as such He is responsible for His own actions and their repercussions. It is so. Man creates anything. Anything.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Paris
My GOD it's a beautiful city, and the people are all dressed way too nicely for american comfort. (have they heard of sneakers here? apparently not...) But probably one of my Favorite european cities so far, even though it all started out with not being able to get into my friend's apt who i am supposed to stay with. And she doesn't get off work till 9 or 9:30. Oh and did I metion that there is a strike on the metro for 2 to 3 days that starts tonite at 8? That means I will be biking around Paris with a borrowed bike. (or risking it on one of the few metro runs... no one knows how often they will come, it could be like sardines) And it's a BIG city. Oh well. That's travel.
I also spent an hour in a café, writing postcards, letting the flutey french voices surround me, observing snooty Parisans and basking in the warm red glow. It was so.... I can't find the word for it. If you can, pls let me know.
Then I took the metro to Champs Elysée. Got some gorgeous shots of the Eiffel Tower. This is the pretty part of Paris I like. Did not have time to go up in the Eiffel Tower though. I will try for another day.
And I hate French keyboards. Everything is in a different place. I feel like a 1st grader again when it comes to typing. If I were to type normally, as if I were on an American computer, the phrase "It's raining cats and dogs" would look like this: "Itms rqining cqts qnd dogs" Oh well.
But it is true... it's POURING outside right now.
Gotta go...my half hour of internet is almost out!
Ciao
I also spent an hour in a café, writing postcards, letting the flutey french voices surround me, observing snooty Parisans and basking in the warm red glow. It was so.... I can't find the word for it. If you can, pls let me know.
Then I took the metro to Champs Elysée. Got some gorgeous shots of the Eiffel Tower. This is the pretty part of Paris I like. Did not have time to go up in the Eiffel Tower though. I will try for another day.
And I hate French keyboards. Everything is in a different place. I feel like a 1st grader again when it comes to typing. If I were to type normally, as if I were on an American computer, the phrase "It's raining cats and dogs" would look like this: "Itms rqining cqts qnd dogs" Oh well.
But it is true... it's POURING outside right now.
Gotta go...my half hour of internet is almost out!
Ciao
Monday, November 12, 2007
Germany
Guten Tag!
Just wanted to write and let everyone know I am doing well.
I have been in Germany the past 3 days, staying with my friend Lea Spahn and he family. It has been great to stay in a home, after being in hostels, etc. Rome was fun, but dirty and noisy, a big city. I am really enjoying the contrast between Germany and Italy. germany is clean, orderly, planned out. Italy is random, unorganized, spontaneous.
I am staying in a 500 year old house. Prettyamazing. Yesterday Lea took me to explore the town of Marburg, very cute architecture, we had küchen (cake) and kaffe (coffee) at a cafe afterwards to get warm.
Tomorrow I go to Paris!
Au Revior!
Just wanted to write and let everyone know I am doing well.
I have been in Germany the past 3 days, staying with my friend Lea Spahn and he family. It has been great to stay in a home, after being in hostels, etc. Rome was fun, but dirty and noisy, a big city. I am really enjoying the contrast between Germany and Italy. germany is clean, orderly, planned out. Italy is random, unorganized, spontaneous.
I am staying in a 500 year old house. Prettyamazing. Yesterday Lea took me to explore the town of Marburg, very cute architecture, we had küchen (cake) and kaffe (coffee) at a cafe afterwards to get warm.
Tomorrow I go to Paris!
Au Revior!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
---News Update---
The French Girl is NICE!!! Someone just hacked into her email and started writing mean things to her friends! I just called her. I still have a friend and a free place to stay in Paris!!! Yippeee!
eh, so the Excitement of Travel has worn off a bit
Yes, it has. Honestly, I am a little tired of organizing hostels, looking at train schedules, trying in vain to figure out how the Italian bus schedules work (I think I've ALMOST got Perugia's bus system down, now that I'm leaving in 2-3 days) Oh yeah, not to mention that the 3 day tour I was going to take to Sicily got cancelled due to not enough people. Upside: I got refunded the 218 euro, and I get to spend a few more days travelling to cute towns around Perugia with my Vietnamese roommate, Kim. I will still go to Rome on Sunday for 5 nites, because I already reserved the hostel. Then off to Frankfurt, Germany for 4-5 nites to spend with Lea Spahn, my friend I've known for about 10 years - she went to Highschool with me for about a year, and also college at MUM in Fairfield.
After Frankfurt, it's off to Paris or London. I would like to go to Paris, but I think there's been some miscommunication between me and my friend in Paris. About a week or so ago, I emailed her and asked if i could stay with her. She said it was fine, gave me the address, said I could come anytime, gave me her cell number, etc. She even told me what bus to take (and the COLOR of the LINE!). She only told me to let her know a few days in advance before i came.
So I email her yesterday and ask her if the dates I'm planning to come are all right. Today I received the strangest reply:
"oh my darleeeen,
fuck you
bye bye,
Coralie"
So basically I don't know if she is just joking around, or if she is a real bitch. I have noticed in Italy, anyways, that the word "Fuck" does not seem as insulting or piercing as in the states. I have seen it written on a few public posters, for example, bars advertising "Fuck night."
I don't know, maybe they think it's cool and American or something.
Eh, va bene. It's fine. I'm cool if I don't go to Paris. I just want to know what this girl is thinking! I emailed her back and asked what she really meant, and tried calling her cell, but she didn't answer. I'll post later when i know what's going on...
Till later,
Ciao Carissimi!
Bye Dear ones!
After Frankfurt, it's off to Paris or London. I would like to go to Paris, but I think there's been some miscommunication between me and my friend in Paris. About a week or so ago, I emailed her and asked if i could stay with her. She said it was fine, gave me the address, said I could come anytime, gave me her cell number, etc. She even told me what bus to take (and the COLOR of the LINE!). She only told me to let her know a few days in advance before i came.
So I email her yesterday and ask her if the dates I'm planning to come are all right. Today I received the strangest reply:
"oh my darleeeen,
fuck you
bye bye,
Coralie"
So basically I don't know if she is just joking around, or if she is a real bitch. I have noticed in Italy, anyways, that the word "Fuck" does not seem as insulting or piercing as in the states. I have seen it written on a few public posters, for example, bars advertising "Fuck night."
I don't know, maybe they think it's cool and American or something.
Eh, va bene. It's fine. I'm cool if I don't go to Paris. I just want to know what this girl is thinking! I emailed her back and asked what she really meant, and tried calling her cell, but she didn't answer. I'll post later when i know what's going on...
Till later,
Ciao Carissimi!
Bye Dear ones!
Making friends through bawling out loud in the street
Yes, this happened to me about 5 days ago. I let loose all my sorrows out in the open on the sidewalk while walking home one cold and rainy night. I didn't think anyone was around, so I thought it was "safe" to open up a few stuck doors. After a few wails I decided to pull over into an alleyway and finish the job right. Then, this sweet Italian girl appears and says "Che e' successo?" "What has happened?". I couldn't ignore her and keep crying like an idiot, so I stopped and began explaining a few things - some homesickness, fatigue, missing people, etc. She was clearly concerned about my welfare, and going out of her way to be kind, warm, and comforting. I really appreciated it (although I never did get in that good cry that I had been craving). We chatted awhile, exchanged numbers and emails, then said good night.
The next night she came over to my place with a bottle of delectable red dessert wine from near Naples. It was sweet and sparkling. She also brought a friend, whose birthday it was. We talked (mostly in Italian, mind you) for about an hour and a half. It was great. They invited me over to their place for dinner sometime, and that sometime is tonight at 8:30! (yes, they eat dinner late in Italy) I am wondering what the food will be.......probably pasta, maybe prosciutto or salami, maybe some bread and cheese, a little wine, hopefully some vegetables.
The next night she came over to my place with a bottle of delectable red dessert wine from near Naples. It was sweet and sparkling. She also brought a friend, whose birthday it was. We talked (mostly in Italian, mind you) for about an hour and a half. It was great. They invited me over to their place for dinner sometime, and that sometime is tonight at 8:30! (yes, they eat dinner late in Italy) I am wondering what the food will be.......probably pasta, maybe prosciutto or salami, maybe some bread and cheese, a little wine, hopefully some vegetables.
Firenze (belated)
Here is an account of my experience in Florence, written October 21 on the train on the way back to Perugia:
Sul treno. Firenze was COLD! The weekend got cold of Fri nite, just in time for my arrival. My first night was my favorite. I walked around the city and saw all the monuments lit with the warm glow of city lights. Before sunset, I saw the Duomo and the Baptistry. Oh. My. GOD! I literally stopped in my tracks, my mouth hanging wide open. Such beauty, grandeur, splendor. I spent the better part of 20 minutes just wandering around the colossal thing and gawking.
Statues peeked out from EVERYWHERE on the Baptistry. Mary and baby, flanked by the 12 apostles, crowned the first floor of the building. Delicious green details etched all over the facade - not one inch left undecorated. It took them what, like 6 or 7 hundred years to complete this building? Yes, it's true. The inside was finished first, during Gothic times, while the outside was left for later masters to complete in the 18th century. (dates are wildly apporximate...don't quote me!)
My favorite Firenze moments:
I have never heard such magnificent street music as in Firenze. An opera soloist behind the Duomo. Violin duet near the statue garden of Piazza della Signioria. And my favorite: A young girl singing Italian opera ("Con te partiro'") in the Piazza della Republica, accompanied by an accordion player. It was so moving, i had to buy a cd.
I also had fun dancing on the pavement with this older woman wearing a red sweater. She was clearly in love with her boyfriend, face glowing and shining with the eternal presence of youth. We had fun together, romanticizing the lyric opera with the motions of our bodies.
Meanwhile, in the background, in the night, a merry-go-round spun with a slow song. Something out of a carnival from long ago. I snapped a picture.
Sul treno. Firenze was COLD! The weekend got cold of Fri nite, just in time for my arrival. My first night was my favorite. I walked around the city and saw all the monuments lit with the warm glow of city lights. Before sunset, I saw the Duomo and the Baptistry. Oh. My. GOD! I literally stopped in my tracks, my mouth hanging wide open. Such beauty, grandeur, splendor. I spent the better part of 20 minutes just wandering around the colossal thing and gawking.
Statues peeked out from EVERYWHERE on the Baptistry. Mary and baby, flanked by the 12 apostles, crowned the first floor of the building. Delicious green details etched all over the facade - not one inch left undecorated. It took them what, like 6 or 7 hundred years to complete this building? Yes, it's true. The inside was finished first, during Gothic times, while the outside was left for later masters to complete in the 18th century. (dates are wildly apporximate...don't quote me!)
My favorite Firenze moments:
I have never heard such magnificent street music as in Firenze. An opera soloist behind the Duomo. Violin duet near the statue garden of Piazza della Signioria. And my favorite: A young girl singing Italian opera ("Con te partiro'") in the Piazza della Republica, accompanied by an accordion player. It was so moving, i had to buy a cd.
I also had fun dancing on the pavement with this older woman wearing a red sweater. She was clearly in love with her boyfriend, face glowing and shining with the eternal presence of youth. We had fun together, romanticizing the lyric opera with the motions of our bodies.
Meanwhile, in the background, in the night, a merry-go-round spun with a slow song. Something out of a carnival from long ago. I snapped a picture.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Excerpts from my diary
I'm back at the spread of green lawn in front of a church where I lazed with someone special a few weeks ago.
I'm realizing that I love people. Their strangeness, their quirky habits, their personalities, petty desires, hopes and dreams. I love people in the US, with their baseball, popcorn, and Wal Mart tennis shoes. I love people in Italia, with their sunglasses, boots, long drawn out cigarettes, and dark hair. I love people in Ireland, their pale faces splotched with red, noses, chins, and jaws chisled in interesting angles, sipping tea after every activity of the day, and drinking the best dark beer in the world (for breakfast).
I love that no one is different, in that everyone is themselves, no matter if they think they are or not.
I love how everyone is so deeply enamored of themselves that they fail to see how close and familiar they are to every other human being.
Every man spirals into himself and his own life. Branching in, branching out. What many fail to see is the one thing that is created. The painting that's finished when all the finger paint is dry.
A pigeon just soared down from the church above me like a gray feathered airplane. It would have been funny if it had landed on my head, but no. Not this time.
I like how the Signora I live with feeds the pigeons out on the back terrace. And how Nasrim, the Iranian girl in the room across from me, feeds them too. I like how Kim, my Vietnamese roommate, is always cooking something yummy and fried and how there's always some left for me. I like how Teresa, my other flat mate from Mexico, is simply carina (cute) in every way. I like how the Signora wears a sleeping cap to bed, stays up later than me, and usually rises after me too.
I like how right now, all these people are gathered outside a church on the lawn, just lazing. The white pup across the way - he just cocked his bum in the cutest angle, so as to make a wee wee.
I think it's funny that, the other day, I bought a square of yeast and ate a good part of it with bread before realizing what it was. "Levito" must mean "yeast" in Italian--not a kind of cheese. Needless to say, I had some pretty interesting cola-like burps the rest of the day.
I like how there's piano music drifting out the windown behind me. And how that reminds me of hearing the same thing in Venice.
Un ragazzo (guy) looks at me from across the lawn, pausing several seconds. Somehow he must think this action is made less obvious by wearing sunglasses.
Adesso, vado in centro a comprare castagne arrostate, e poi, vado in internet cafe.
Now, I'll go to the city center and by roasted chestnuts, and then, I'll go to an internet cafe.
...and here I am!
Ciao for now,
Melissa
I'm realizing that I love people. Their strangeness, their quirky habits, their personalities, petty desires, hopes and dreams. I love people in the US, with their baseball, popcorn, and Wal Mart tennis shoes. I love people in Italia, with their sunglasses, boots, long drawn out cigarettes, and dark hair. I love people in Ireland, their pale faces splotched with red, noses, chins, and jaws chisled in interesting angles, sipping tea after every activity of the day, and drinking the best dark beer in the world (for breakfast).
I love that no one is different, in that everyone is themselves, no matter if they think they are or not.
I love how everyone is so deeply enamored of themselves that they fail to see how close and familiar they are to every other human being.
Every man spirals into himself and his own life. Branching in, branching out. What many fail to see is the one thing that is created. The painting that's finished when all the finger paint is dry.
A pigeon just soared down from the church above me like a gray feathered airplane. It would have been funny if it had landed on my head, but no. Not this time.
I like how the Signora I live with feeds the pigeons out on the back terrace. And how Nasrim, the Iranian girl in the room across from me, feeds them too. I like how Kim, my Vietnamese roommate, is always cooking something yummy and fried and how there's always some left for me. I like how Teresa, my other flat mate from Mexico, is simply carina (cute) in every way. I like how the Signora wears a sleeping cap to bed, stays up later than me, and usually rises after me too.
I like how right now, all these people are gathered outside a church on the lawn, just lazing. The white pup across the way - he just cocked his bum in the cutest angle, so as to make a wee wee.
I think it's funny that, the other day, I bought a square of yeast and ate a good part of it with bread before realizing what it was. "Levito" must mean "yeast" in Italian--not a kind of cheese. Needless to say, I had some pretty interesting cola-like burps the rest of the day.
I like how there's piano music drifting out the windown behind me. And how that reminds me of hearing the same thing in Venice.
Un ragazzo (guy) looks at me from across the lawn, pausing several seconds. Somehow he must think this action is made less obvious by wearing sunglasses.
Adesso, vado in centro a comprare castagne arrostate, e poi, vado in internet cafe.
Now, I'll go to the city center and by roasted chestnuts, and then, I'll go to an internet cafe.
...and here I am!
Ciao for now,
Melissa
Gubbio
October 16, 2007
Mamma mia! Non ho scritto per molto tempo. Ieri sono andata a Gubbio. é un paese bellissimo. Sono andata alla cima della montagna, dove ho veduto tutta la terra bassa da me. L' aria è stata fresca ed ha avuto un po' freddo. Il vento ha soffiato i miei capelli in tutti direzioni. La luce del' sole è stata calda e rosa sul le rocchie delle montagne attorno a me.
Translation:
Mamma mia! I haven't written for a long time. Yesterday I went to Gubbio. It is a beautiful village. I went to the top of the mountain, where I way all the earth below me. The air was fresh and a little cold. The wind blew my hair in all directions. The sunlight was warm and pink on the rocks of the mountains around me.
Mamma mia! Non ho scritto per molto tempo. Ieri sono andata a Gubbio. é un paese bellissimo. Sono andata alla cima della montagna, dove ho veduto tutta la terra bassa da me. L' aria è stata fresca ed ha avuto un po' freddo. Il vento ha soffiato i miei capelli in tutti direzioni. La luce del' sole è stata calda e rosa sul le rocchie delle montagne attorno a me.
Translation:
Mamma mia! I haven't written for a long time. Yesterday I went to Gubbio. It is a beautiful village. I went to the top of the mountain, where I way all the earth below me. The air was fresh and a little cold. The wind blew my hair in all directions. The sunlight was warm and pink on the rocks of the mountains around me.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Trasimeno and Gubbio
On Thursday I went to Lago di Trasimeno, then took a ferry to Isola Maggiore. Very quiet island, many olive trees.
Didn't do much this weekend. Went to eurochocolate festival on Sun., you would have hated it - so many people in the streets. It was good tho because i got free chocolate shavings from the chocolate scuptors.
Yesterday I went to Gubbio, a small town about 1:15 min away by bus. Took a sort of ski lift up to the top of the mountain, where I walked around and marveled at the views.
I really like travelling. I get too bored when I dont go places and do things.
Time does fly. I am already half way through my course.
I think i will go to Firenze this weekend. Even though today I heart it's might be cold and rainy.
Didn't do much this weekend. Went to eurochocolate festival on Sun., you would have hated it - so many people in the streets. It was good tho because i got free chocolate shavings from the chocolate scuptors.
Yesterday I went to Gubbio, a small town about 1:15 min away by bus. Took a sort of ski lift up to the top of the mountain, where I walked around and marveled at the views.
I really like travelling. I get too bored when I dont go places and do things.
Time does fly. I am already half way through my course.
I think i will go to Firenze this weekend. Even though today I heart it's might be cold and rainy.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Perugia
I am back in Perugia, studying Italian. Mi piace la lingua italia molto. E' bellissimo. Words are really starting to roll off my toungue, and I can understand a lot of what people are saying. I am in class with only one other American. Most people are from China, Spain, Portugal, Turkey, and a few from India, Poland, and Denmark. About 20 people in the class.
I am living with 4 other girls in an apartment. One from Vietnam, one from Iran, and one from Mexico. Well, it's actually this lady's house, she only speaks Italian. She's sweet, a cute old lady of about 80. Talks very loud and a lot! She makes the beds every day and turns down the covers every night. I had my boyfriend over and she served us coffee in tiny cups. Only girls are allowed as guests in the kitchen for meals - a little weird. I guess it is a small kitchen. And at least i get to cook!
Ciao
until next time
I am living with 4 other girls in an apartment. One from Vietnam, one from Iran, and one from Mexico. Well, it's actually this lady's house, she only speaks Italian. She's sweet, a cute old lady of about 80. Talks very loud and a lot! She makes the beds every day and turns down the covers every night. I had my boyfriend over and she served us coffee in tiny cups. Only girls are allowed as guests in the kitchen for meals - a little weird. I guess it is a small kitchen. And at least i get to cook!
Ciao
until next time
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Milano and Lago Maggiore
Ciao from Italia!
I am in Milan for the weekend, staying at the house of my roommate's boyfriend's family. This is the first time I have had real Italian cooking. Let's just say my stomach expands with every meal. I guess my theory is that if I eat enough this weekend, I won't need to eat anything next week! Pasta, pollo (chicken), prosciutto, formaggio (cheese), pane (bread), vino (wine), frutta (fruit). Scuisito.
Today we went to Lago Maggiore, about a 40 min drive. Romantic, the clouds danced in great white sheaths between mountains encircling the water. We took a boat to visit two tiny islands: Isola Peschatori (Fisherman's Island), and Isola Bella. There was a wedding in a tiny church on Isola Bella. I snuck a few candid pictures of the bride as she glided between stone buildings to the door. The candles within the church exuded a warm glow.
Also on Isola Bella was a magnificent castle once owned by the Boromeo family. Many of the rooms were covered from floor to ceiling by mosaics made from simple stones. The gardens were fragrant with red hibiscus flowers, lemon trees, banana trees, and bamboo. Several tiers of a stone fountain housed statues of men, women, cherubs, gods, and goddesses. White peacocks relaxed on the grass, their feathers sprinkled on the green like light snow.
Tomorrow I head back to Perugia, to continue my month of Italian language classes. I will have more time on my hands than I have in the past month, so I expect to be posting more entries.
Allora, fino al altra volta! Until next time.
Melissa
I am in Milan for the weekend, staying at the house of my roommate's boyfriend's family. This is the first time I have had real Italian cooking. Let's just say my stomach expands with every meal. I guess my theory is that if I eat enough this weekend, I won't need to eat anything next week! Pasta, pollo (chicken), prosciutto, formaggio (cheese), pane (bread), vino (wine), frutta (fruit). Scuisito.
Today we went to Lago Maggiore, about a 40 min drive. Romantic, the clouds danced in great white sheaths between mountains encircling the water. We took a boat to visit two tiny islands: Isola Peschatori (Fisherman's Island), and Isola Bella. There was a wedding in a tiny church on Isola Bella. I snuck a few candid pictures of the bride as she glided between stone buildings to the door. The candles within the church exuded a warm glow.
Also on Isola Bella was a magnificent castle once owned by the Boromeo family. Many of the rooms were covered from floor to ceiling by mosaics made from simple stones. The gardens were fragrant with red hibiscus flowers, lemon trees, banana trees, and bamboo. Several tiers of a stone fountain housed statues of men, women, cherubs, gods, and goddesses. White peacocks relaxed on the grass, their feathers sprinkled on the green like light snow.
Tomorrow I head back to Perugia, to continue my month of Italian language classes. I will have more time on my hands than I have in the past month, so I expect to be posting more entries.
Allora, fino al altra volta! Until next time.
Melissa
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