We all excitedly observed the streets of Delhi. The traffic was unbelievable for 12:30 in the middle of the night. Cars and trucks were bumper to bumper. As we made our way to the hotel, I couldn't help but remember my first few nights in Italy and wonder if India was going to be as unpredictable.
I had no problems gathering my luggage in Rome a little over two months prior. I traded some American cash for Euros and sat at the cafe where Jill told me to meet her. As a major in Public Policy, I was coming to Rome to fulfill my Public Policy internship. One of my best friends, Jenna, has an older sister, Jill, who lives in Rome and studies at the Angellicum, a Vatican University. Jill also was a public policy major at Duke back in the day, and she graciously invited me to come live with her in Rome and help her with projects she was working on for the Vatican.
Unfortunately her apartment was not ready, and when I arrived she told me I would live in hotels for a few weeks until we both could move into the apartment. Jill was staying with friends. After we put my bags in the first place I would stay in, we got pizza from one of her favorite places and ate it in front of the steps of St. Peters. I took a nap and jumped on a public bus to meet Jill, my first solo public transportation experience on my very first day. It was the beginning of a tremendously fun, but highly unpredictable Italian summer. I ended up living in a bed and breakfast, two different hotels, and a convent before finally ending up in Jill's apartment almost a month into my trip.
After a short bus ride, the India group full of teachers and education minors from Duke arrived at the hotel. We were a bit confused as girls in, let's just say, "small clothes" were flocking to the lobby of the hotel. We spent a good deal of time during the school year preparing ourselves on what to bring and wear in this supposedly "highly conservative" country, and we were walking into what appeared to be an India MTV spring break. But once we walked into the lobby, we were stunned. There was a giant club on one side where all the sparkly clad young people were headed. The lobby was filled with bright colored couches with matching beads hanging from the ceiling. It was what you would expect in a 12 year old Indian princess' room. Emily, a girl that had just graduated from Duke that spring, and I went up to our room and pretty much crashed in our beds after finally figuring out which adaptors work in India.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Airport Tears
I woke up two hours before I needed to leave the little Roman apartment. I showered, packed my last things, and ate some peanut butter toast. I said goodbye to my jar of JIF, apprehensive that my bag was already a little too heavy; I left my peanut butter behind. Jenna helped me carry my bags down stairs, and I managed to get a cab to pull over at 5am, my flight was leaving at 7. We were almost to the airport, a 30 minute cab ride, when I remembered my new camera was still in Jenna's purse from the night before. I tried to be calm, but tears started rolling down my face as I decided in 5 seconds that it was worth the trouble to turn around and retrieve it. I had to pull myself together so I could tell the cab driver in Italian what I needed. Of course, Italian style, he first bartered with me about how much extra I would need to pay to turn around. I agreed, and he started RACING back to Trastevere. Jill was not answering my emails that I was headed back. By the time we got back to the apartment it was 5:40am and I couldn't get Jenna and Jill to buzz me in because our buzzer is broken. I started pressing every single button, frantic that I would not get my camera and then race back to the airport empty handed and miss my flight... Luckily the landlord buzzed me in! I ran up to the apartment, banged on the door, grabbed my camera, and shouted "thank you sorry sorry" as I literally flew down the stairs and into the cab.
Such an intense cab ride to the airport. I made it just at 6am. An hour early for an international flight with three months worth of luggage is not an ideal situation. I tried to pull myself together as I lugged everything to Air France. Air France is not ideal period.
My bag weighed 90 which was 30 over. I told the lady with her lips pressed together and a look of distaste, that I would just pay for the extra weight. She told me that was not possible which I still don't understand! Wasn't that the whole point of lowering the amount of weight allowed? So airlines could find more ways to make money? The lady told me I could have 60 in my bag and 10 as my carry on... purse and little rolly included. I reminded myself to keep breathing as I frantically pulled things out of my suitcase and started throwing them away. The lady looked at me puzzled. What did she think I was going to do with the extra weight? Not board the plane because my bag was too heavy? She just stared at me as I tried to pick out the heaviest items I could do without which included 3 pairs of shoes, bug spray, lotions, all shampoo, towels, old shorts, paper... the list goes on. Some time while I was throwing out my life, I didn't realize I was crying... again.
All the sudden out of no where she said "if you want this bag to get on the plane, I need it in 3 minutes." Why couldn't she have given me a ten minute warning?? I started putting more clothes on top of my black juicy sweat suit. I had jeans on, multiple shirts, sweatshirt tied around my waste... As I went to put on a few heavy necklaces, the flight lady stopped me and said that wasn't allowed. WHY NOT!?!? Finally I got the weight down close enough. The crying must have worked because she pretended not to notice my carry on now weighed more than my checked bag. She also stopped smirking at my new outfit and several bags in hand. Apparently I made the four minute count down, and I ran to security. No idea how I managed to get all my carry on belongings through the gate and onto the plane, but I did it. I barely made it to my second flight in time, but as I sat on the plane to India I decided it would be a miracle if my bag actually made it there. I was black berry messaging my sister at the gate while waiting in line to board. As I puffed my inhaler she nicely calmed me down. I made a mental note to NEVER put myself in an airport with an overweight bag again. We will see if that actually happens...
My journey from Italy to India was not supposed to be difficult. I would fly on a quick flight to Paris and then jet off to Delhi, India an hour later. My France to India flight would take about 9 hours.
I arrived in India at the scheduled time, and I held my breath as I watched all the bags circle around. Mine did come. It was one of the absolute last bags to fall, but it did make it. I had 45 minutes to kill before I met my group; their flight was scheduled to arrive a little later. I had my first experience in India on a squatty potty which is basically just a hole in the ground. No toilet paper was supplied, and I thanked God that I didn't throw out my tissues to save weight.
I found the group. They were tired after their two 9 hour flights. We exchanged some money and jumped on a bus to our hotel.
Such an intense cab ride to the airport. I made it just at 6am. An hour early for an international flight with three months worth of luggage is not an ideal situation. I tried to pull myself together as I lugged everything to Air France. Air France is not ideal period.
My bag weighed 90 which was 30 over. I told the lady with her lips pressed together and a look of distaste, that I would just pay for the extra weight. She told me that was not possible which I still don't understand! Wasn't that the whole point of lowering the amount of weight allowed? So airlines could find more ways to make money? The lady told me I could have 60 in my bag and 10 as my carry on... purse and little rolly included. I reminded myself to keep breathing as I frantically pulled things out of my suitcase and started throwing them away. The lady looked at me puzzled. What did she think I was going to do with the extra weight? Not board the plane because my bag was too heavy? She just stared at me as I tried to pick out the heaviest items I could do without which included 3 pairs of shoes, bug spray, lotions, all shampoo, towels, old shorts, paper... the list goes on. Some time while I was throwing out my life, I didn't realize I was crying... again.
All the sudden out of no where she said "if you want this bag to get on the plane, I need it in 3 minutes." Why couldn't she have given me a ten minute warning?? I started putting more clothes on top of my black juicy sweat suit. I had jeans on, multiple shirts, sweatshirt tied around my waste... As I went to put on a few heavy necklaces, the flight lady stopped me and said that wasn't allowed. WHY NOT!?!? Finally I got the weight down close enough. The crying must have worked because she pretended not to notice my carry on now weighed more than my checked bag. She also stopped smirking at my new outfit and several bags in hand. Apparently I made the four minute count down, and I ran to security. No idea how I managed to get all my carry on belongings through the gate and onto the plane, but I did it. I barely made it to my second flight in time, but as I sat on the plane to India I decided it would be a miracle if my bag actually made it there. I was black berry messaging my sister at the gate while waiting in line to board. As I puffed my inhaler she nicely calmed me down. I made a mental note to NEVER put myself in an airport with an overweight bag again. We will see if that actually happens...
My journey from Italy to India was not supposed to be difficult. I would fly on a quick flight to Paris and then jet off to Delhi, India an hour later. My France to India flight would take about 9 hours.
I arrived in India at the scheduled time, and I held my breath as I watched all the bags circle around. Mine did come. It was one of the absolute last bags to fall, but it did make it. I had 45 minutes to kill before I met my group; their flight was scheduled to arrive a little later. I had my first experience in India on a squatty potty which is basically just a hole in the ground. No toilet paper was supplied, and I thanked God that I didn't throw out my tissues to save weight.
I found the group. They were tired after their two 9 hour flights. We exchanged some money and jumped on a bus to our hotel.
Friday, July 23, 2010
India
"India is a country of disparities."
On my first full day in India, we met with Shrikant Bangdiwala, a research professor from UNC that works in biostatistics. He kept emphasizing that India is full of disparities. It's a somewhat new democracy and the largest in the world for that matter! With Ganhi's efforts, India was liberated in 1947 from the Brits. It's secular. So many religions fill India's culture-Hinduism, Buddhism, Janism, Sikhism, Judaism, Christianity, Islam. India has a wide economic gap. Two of the five richest people in the world are from India, but India remains a third-world country. You can't be outside for more than five minutes without witnessing the devastating and obvious health, poverty, and space issues.
Disparity is defined as "a lack of similarity or equality; inequality; difference." When I think of my summer experiences, I think of disparities. I started off in Italy where almost 88% of people identify themselves as Roman Catholic, like myself. I then moved onto India which can only be described as "sensory overload."
What makes a person process something and want to remember it or share it? For whatever reason, blogging in Italy didn't come easily. I met some incredible inspiring people and some friends that I will most likely keep in touch with for years, but writing my thoughts down didn't seem natural. Nevertheless, I do want to remember the people and places that have influenced me this summer.
I am so fortunate to have this opportunity in India. Several members of the Duke faculty applied for a Fulbright grant to bring undergraduate students and mentor Durham teachers to India for a cultural immersion trip in hopes to create more global cirriculums and a better awareness of countries far away. Being gone the entire summer is tiring, but incredibly valuable. The grant covered all our flights, hotel accommodations, meals, transportation, and activities. The only thing i'm responsible for is the occasional chocolate bar and gifts for my sisters.
Fun facts!!!
1) India's national animal is the Bengal tiger, and India is home to about half of the world's tiger population!
2) India's national sport is field hockey
While blogging, i'm going to intersperse my India memories with Italy ones too. Maybe blogging for both at the same time, will help me recognize and appreciate differences and similarities.
On my first full day in India, we met with Shrikant Bangdiwala, a research professor from UNC that works in biostatistics. He kept emphasizing that India is full of disparities. It's a somewhat new democracy and the largest in the world for that matter! With Ganhi's efforts, India was liberated in 1947 from the Brits. It's secular. So many religions fill India's culture-Hinduism, Buddhism, Janism, Sikhism, Judaism, Christianity, Islam. India has a wide economic gap. Two of the five richest people in the world are from India, but India remains a third-world country. You can't be outside for more than five minutes without witnessing the devastating and obvious health, poverty, and space issues.
Disparity is defined as "a lack of similarity or equality; inequality; difference." When I think of my summer experiences, I think of disparities. I started off in Italy where almost 88% of people identify themselves as Roman Catholic, like myself. I then moved onto India which can only be described as "sensory overload."
What makes a person process something and want to remember it or share it? For whatever reason, blogging in Italy didn't come easily. I met some incredible inspiring people and some friends that I will most likely keep in touch with for years, but writing my thoughts down didn't seem natural. Nevertheless, I do want to remember the people and places that have influenced me this summer.
I am so fortunate to have this opportunity in India. Several members of the Duke faculty applied for a Fulbright grant to bring undergraduate students and mentor Durham teachers to India for a cultural immersion trip in hopes to create more global cirriculums and a better awareness of countries far away. Being gone the entire summer is tiring, but incredibly valuable. The grant covered all our flights, hotel accommodations, meals, transportation, and activities. The only thing i'm responsible for is the occasional chocolate bar and gifts for my sisters.
Fun facts!!!
1) India's national animal is the Bengal tiger, and India is home to about half of the world's tiger population!
2) India's national sport is field hockey
While blogging, i'm going to intersperse my India memories with Italy ones too. Maybe blogging for both at the same time, will help me recognize and appreciate differences and similarities.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Cappuccino
You start to recognize your life routine has changed a bit. Days during my last spring semester at Duke included Venti Starbucks coffees with Skim milk, tequila shots at Shooters, lots of Mexican food, over-loaded semesters, and frozen yogurt.
My new days include croissants, 4+ cappuccinos, Italian conversations that only include my mood, name, and the weather, and gelato. Lots and lots of gelato. I've discovered my two favorite flavors are Dark Chocolate and Coffee... Sometimes I could also go for yogurt flavored gelato too! I'm learning to love this life style just as much as the last one. I still really do miss America's Mexian food though...
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday I went to class. There are no classes on Fridays, this is Italia. I met my friends at Malva, our favorite cafe, before school each day. I would quickly do enough homework questions to make it look like I tried. I started to go out with friends, mostly to Scholars, an irish pub that quickly fills up with American and English study abroad students, and bars in Campo dei Fiori, a rectangular piazza with lots of fun bars and crazy Italian men. Of course my 11pm curfew at the convent created quite the problem. Italians and people in Italia (like me) don't even eat dinner until 9 or 10pm! Luckily, my new friends were more than willing to let me crash on their couch. Unfortunately in Italia it is very customary for Italian men to have a wife AND "a girlfriend" on the side. Jill informed me that the nuns probably think I am an Italian man's "girlfriend." I tried my best to explain to my favorite nun, Amelia, that this was not the case! It's debatable whether or not she understood.
I interviewed Father Davis this week who is from India. It was great speaking with him because I will be going to India later this summer. We had a mini debate about the current crisis in the church regarding child abuse and the pope's reaction. I probably came across a little rebellious. At the end of our conversation he asked to bless me.. Of course I said yes! This was in a very public touristy area in the middle of a cafe. Just embrace it, I told myself.
My new days include croissants, 4+ cappuccinos, Italian conversations that only include my mood, name, and the weather, and gelato. Lots and lots of gelato. I've discovered my two favorite flavors are Dark Chocolate and Coffee... Sometimes I could also go for yogurt flavored gelato too! I'm learning to love this life style just as much as the last one. I still really do miss America's Mexian food though...
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday I went to class. There are no classes on Fridays, this is Italia. I met my friends at Malva, our favorite cafe, before school each day. I would quickly do enough homework questions to make it look like I tried. I started to go out with friends, mostly to Scholars, an irish pub that quickly fills up with American and English study abroad students, and bars in Campo dei Fiori, a rectangular piazza with lots of fun bars and crazy Italian men. Of course my 11pm curfew at the convent created quite the problem. Italians and people in Italia (like me) don't even eat dinner until 9 or 10pm! Luckily, my new friends were more than willing to let me crash on their couch. Unfortunately in Italia it is very customary for Italian men to have a wife AND "a girlfriend" on the side. Jill informed me that the nuns probably think I am an Italian man's "girlfriend." I tried my best to explain to my favorite nun, Amelia, that this was not the case! It's debatable whether or not she understood.
I interviewed Father Davis this week who is from India. It was great speaking with him because I will be going to India later this summer. We had a mini debate about the current crisis in the church regarding child abuse and the pope's reaction. I probably came across a little rebellious. At the end of our conversation he asked to bless me.. Of course I said yes! This was in a very public touristy area in the middle of a cafe. Just embrace it, I told myself.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
First Day
Woke up early Monday because it was the first day of my Italian class!!! Took a shower, blow dried my hair... Even put on a cute "short set." Went to a cafe and got a cafe latte and a donut with sugar on top. There was no mom or roommate to pump me up for my first day. Luckily I had Mariel's old yellow i-pod (yes, I receive hand-me-downs from a twelve year old.. sad). The i-pod was filled with anything that Miley Cyrus ever sang so I put "Party in the USA" on repeat and skipped to John Cabot.
Seven people. That's it. Seven people including me. So this was a maximum six friend potential classroom. One girl is Italian and can fluently speak Italian. To say she's not really looking to make friends is a nice way to put it. One guy wears completely all black-t-shirt, pants, shoes, socks all black. I've now been in school for two weeks... His outfit has not changed once. I'm curious how many of the same shirt and pants he has? Does he rotate or just wears the same thing every single day? I quickly noticed the kid in the corner with the British accent. Ends up Cody is "my first friends' " (Rusty, Brendan, and Joe) other roommate! His family is from London, and he goes to American in DC. There was a girl next to him... I instantly liked her. We quickly bonded over our lacking Italian skills! Dominique was a tall blonde who plays volleyball at Gettysburg. A nice gay couple came in late. They have yet to come to class on time once. Dominique, Cody, and I went to get coffee right after class.
For the first time ever, I was not the weakest link in my Italian class. The girl that speaks fluent Italian obviously makes every other American in the class look bad, but other than that I was on par with the rest of the group. My teacher is incredibly sweet. We got a chance to ask her questions... I decided to spice up class a little and ask when the first time she fell in love was... she smiled and we all were entertained for ten minutes. Painless first day!
After coffee I ran over to a McDonalds a mile away to meet Jill for a quick meeting. She gave me a list of priests that I was to interview in the following weeks. I then went on a little run. I ended up almost falling into a fountain when I tried to fill up my water bottle. Probably would have felt great though. There is absolutely no air condition anywhere! I met Jill at the Angellicum, one of forty something Vatican Universities. Jill studies there, and I joined one of her classes for fun. I sat next to a priest from Rwanda. He was thrilled I had spent a summer there, and we bonded talking about "banana beer" and the capital, Kigali. After class we went to a great restaurant that has yummy American cheeseburgers. A few priests joined Jill and me.
I got to bed, and looked forward to meeting my new class friends at the cafe by school before Italian!
Seven people. That's it. Seven people including me. So this was a maximum six friend potential classroom. One girl is Italian and can fluently speak Italian. To say she's not really looking to make friends is a nice way to put it. One guy wears completely all black-t-shirt, pants, shoes, socks all black. I've now been in school for two weeks... His outfit has not changed once. I'm curious how many of the same shirt and pants he has? Does he rotate or just wears the same thing every single day? I quickly noticed the kid in the corner with the British accent. Ends up Cody is "my first friends' " (Rusty, Brendan, and Joe) other roommate! His family is from London, and he goes to American in DC. There was a girl next to him... I instantly liked her. We quickly bonded over our lacking Italian skills! Dominique was a tall blonde who plays volleyball at Gettysburg. A nice gay couple came in late. They have yet to come to class on time once. Dominique, Cody, and I went to get coffee right after class.
For the first time ever, I was not the weakest link in my Italian class. The girl that speaks fluent Italian obviously makes every other American in the class look bad, but other than that I was on par with the rest of the group. My teacher is incredibly sweet. We got a chance to ask her questions... I decided to spice up class a little and ask when the first time she fell in love was... she smiled and we all were entertained for ten minutes. Painless first day!
After coffee I ran over to a McDonalds a mile away to meet Jill for a quick meeting. She gave me a list of priests that I was to interview in the following weeks. I then went on a little run. I ended up almost falling into a fountain when I tried to fill up my water bottle. Probably would have felt great though. There is absolutely no air condition anywhere! I met Jill at the Angellicum, one of forty something Vatican Universities. Jill studies there, and I joined one of her classes for fun. I sat next to a priest from Rwanda. He was thrilled I had spent a summer there, and we bonded talking about "banana beer" and the capital, Kigali. After class we went to a great restaurant that has yummy American cheeseburgers. A few priests joined Jill and me.
I got to bed, and looked forward to meeting my new class friends at the cafe by school before Italian!
Roses
I woke up early on Sunday to get myself to the Pantheon. Once a year on Pentecost there is a special mass in the Pantheon. Fire fighters climb on the outside of the dome and drop millions of rose petals from through the hole (142 feet diameter) at the end of mass. It was well worth waking up early; the rose petals rained down at the conclusion of mass. My high school Latin teacher, Mrs. Cushman, would have been so proud that I attended! Once the priests (over a hundred of them) processed out, the alter server kids got to play in the roses with everyone else. The entire floor of the Pantheon was covered in rose petals. All together it was pretty spectacular. After Jill and I joined some of her friends for Chinese food which wasn't half as bad as I would expect Chinese food in Rome to be!
I moved all my stuff, once again. This time, I was moved to a convent, no joke! The convent, run by nuns, rents out rooms to make money. It is in an excellent location, right outside the Vatican and a 15 minute walk to my university, John Cabot. I was in awe with how beautiful the view was from my bedroom window. The convent sits on a very steep hill that I get to climb up twenty times a day. Consequently, it over looks all of Rome! For dinner, I walked to a panini shop near my school and got a salami sandwich and a beer. I walked around the town surrounding my new home and enjoyed my dinner! As it turns out I ended up living in the convent for a solid two weeks! I quickly be-friended a little old nun, Amelia. She only speaks Italian; therefore, our conversations are pretty mundane. I thought I was her favorite because she calls me Bella, meaning beautiful. A few days later I heard her call a girl bellissima, the most beautiful. Ouch.
I moved all my stuff, once again. This time, I was moved to a convent, no joke! The convent, run by nuns, rents out rooms to make money. It is in an excellent location, right outside the Vatican and a 15 minute walk to my university, John Cabot. I was in awe with how beautiful the view was from my bedroom window. The convent sits on a very steep hill that I get to climb up twenty times a day. Consequently, it over looks all of Rome! For dinner, I walked to a panini shop near my school and got a salami sandwich and a beer. I walked around the town surrounding my new home and enjoyed my dinner! As it turns out I ended up living in the convent for a solid two weeks! I quickly be-friended a little old nun, Amelia. She only speaks Italian; therefore, our conversations are pretty mundane. I thought I was her favorite because she calls me Bella, meaning beautiful. A few days later I heard her call a girl bellissima, the most beautiful. Ouch.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Bar della Malva
Bars in Italy are cafes. You go to a bar for a cappuccino (or if you are me, four cappuccinos). When I say I found a great bar, all it means is a cute cafe. Our favorite bar by school is Bar della Malva. John Cabot students receive a free coffee every morning, and a 15% discount along with free wifi! It's the place to be. In Duke I have Alpine, In Charlotte my corner Starbucks, and here-Malva. But, do not be mistaken. You do still drink in "bars." In fact, you drink every where. Meetings are over a few cold Peronis (Italian beer). After school on a Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, you go have a glass of wine. Or if there are two of you, a bottle. I've already had drinks with priests and nuns discussing work and whatnot. One of my favorite nights was having a few beers with priests and explaining "Pandora." They were fascinated with the "magic" radio stations booming from Jill and I's blackberries that seemed to know every single song they loved. You drink alcohol in Italy, like you check your email in the States.
It was no surprise to me, that I made my first American friends over a few bottles of wine!
On Thursday, I went to my school John Cabot University in Trastevere to check in and get my student on ID. I am taking an Italian class to maximize my time in Italy and get a requirement out of the way! It also ended up being a great way to meet some American friends my age. I signed in, took a deep breath, and walked into the bar where the "John Cabot Meet and Greet" was being held. I had forgotten that butterfly feeling of walking into a room of strangers, not knowing where to sit with your food, and trying to look like you belong! I started thinking... My parents really never put me in a new school alone, except when we moved to Boston. When we moved to Charlotte, I had my best friend Alli with me when I walked into St. Gabriels. We were best friends in Boston and got to move to Charlotte and start our new school together! I went to Duke with Chris and had some upperclassmen friends. Basically I could not even remember the last time, I walked into a school without knowing a single person. Luckily, I didn't realize this until I walked into the bar...
Well, I could have used Alli or Chris, but I managed. I saw an open seat next to a group of guys and asked if I could sit. Ends up they were all nice and fun. Within an hour we got up to buy a pizza and some bottles of wine. We sat on a fountain in front of "the oldest church in Rome" (several towns claim they have the oldest church, it's a toss up). We passed one bottle of wine around at a time, and traded stories from home. We took a walk around Rome, and I went to bed sighing with relief that I made three new friends, Brendan, Joe, and Rusty.
On Friday, I went back to the same bar/cafe I had been going to since Wednesday. They upgraded me to a larger cup for my cappuccino! I was making progress :) Not only did I now have three new American friends, Fabio (the middle-aged Italian man), Jill, and a handful of priests... I now had my own little cafe, and I didn't even have to order! When I walked in, the barista started to make my drink while asking about my previous day (in Italian of course).
Feeling good, I walked to school for the official John Cabot Orientation. Well, the boys were assigned the later registration time so it was "make new friend day" all over again. I met a lovely girl from New Orleans whose parents live in Italy, and she was taking a few classes over the summer. We had a school BBQ in the Lemon Tree Courtyard in the middle of the school. I met Jill after the Orientation at the Colosseum. She gives tours throughout ancient Rome, and I followed along and was her "little helper." That night I had to move my over-packed bags to a new hotel. When I got to the hotel, they informed me they had over-reserved rooms, and they were sending me to ANOTHER hotel. They paid for my taxi, and I was off to a different hotel. When I got there around midnight, the hotel restaurant was closed so I took a walk around the city to find some pizza. Ended up at a cute restaurant. Tables are all super close together, and I was sitting practically on top of two men having dinner. One was from America and the other from Italy. The Italian man's daughter worked for the American in America. The American was on vacation and passed through to meet his favorite worker's parents. I ended up just moving my chair and sitting with them. Nice men who gave me some good advice about the easiest way to get to the Vatican the following morning.
On Saturday I woke up super early, bummed I was no where near "my" little cafe to get my daily cappuccino. I had to settle for a new, less friendly cafe. In Italy you drink coffee like shots. You drink at the bar standing up. If you sit down it's over double the price. So I order two, and I drink them with a croissant. Had to move all my bags to the NEXT hotel. After I finally got settled in the hotel I had originally booked, I decided to try the metro. It was easy, and I made it to Jill's tour meeting place. She gave a three hour tour of the Vatican. I can't express how truly captivating her tour was! I can't sit still for thirty minutes in class, and she had me and thirty others complete attention for 180 minutes strolling through Vatican City. She answered good and bad questions with enthusiasm, gave every family advice on where to go after, and even helped a lady look for her lost earring! I admire her patience, and her love for the Vatican spread to every single person on that tour.
Since I have no older siblings, I gladly follow her around. She is truly gifted in her ability to share knowledge! She makes history easy to understand, and her humor and real-life perspective provide great entertainment. After the tour we went to a bar and had a few coffees and a glass of champagne. We then went to her friend's birthday party. At first I was a bit apprehensive to crash the birthday dinner. In Italy, it is not only customary, but encouraged to bring extra guests to parties! What an inclusive environment, hah. I can only Imagine if my mom brought an extra three people to a dinner party in Charlotte? Saying the hosts would be pissed is an understatement. There would be less food, the table would then be off center, the group dynamics-completely ruined... This is just another reason why I love Italy. Good food, good friends, and an inclusive easy going atmosphere! People truly enjoy each others company. They look for reasons to celebrate instead of motives to complain.
The birthday girl was from America, but half her guests were Italian and only spoke Italian. What a real life test. Thanks to my Duke Italian teacher, Della, I managed. The dinner was incredible. It was a five-course meal, and I was full after the first two! Italian dinners can take hours, but Jill mentioned that this one was even longer than normal! We finished dinner around midnight, and I took a cab back to my hotel. The hot shower before bed put me right to sleep.
A domani,
Jessica
It was no surprise to me, that I made my first American friends over a few bottles of wine!
On Thursday, I went to my school John Cabot University in Trastevere to check in and get my student on ID. I am taking an Italian class to maximize my time in Italy and get a requirement out of the way! It also ended up being a great way to meet some American friends my age. I signed in, took a deep breath, and walked into the bar where the "John Cabot Meet and Greet" was being held. I had forgotten that butterfly feeling of walking into a room of strangers, not knowing where to sit with your food, and trying to look like you belong! I started thinking... My parents really never put me in a new school alone, except when we moved to Boston. When we moved to Charlotte, I had my best friend Alli with me when I walked into St. Gabriels. We were best friends in Boston and got to move to Charlotte and start our new school together! I went to Duke with Chris and had some upperclassmen friends. Basically I could not even remember the last time, I walked into a school without knowing a single person. Luckily, I didn't realize this until I walked into the bar...
Well, I could have used Alli or Chris, but I managed. I saw an open seat next to a group of guys and asked if I could sit. Ends up they were all nice and fun. Within an hour we got up to buy a pizza and some bottles of wine. We sat on a fountain in front of "the oldest church in Rome" (several towns claim they have the oldest church, it's a toss up). We passed one bottle of wine around at a time, and traded stories from home. We took a walk around Rome, and I went to bed sighing with relief that I made three new friends, Brendan, Joe, and Rusty.
On Friday, I went back to the same bar/cafe I had been going to since Wednesday. They upgraded me to a larger cup for my cappuccino! I was making progress :) Not only did I now have three new American friends, Fabio (the middle-aged Italian man), Jill, and a handful of priests... I now had my own little cafe, and I didn't even have to order! When I walked in, the barista started to make my drink while asking about my previous day (in Italian of course).
Feeling good, I walked to school for the official John Cabot Orientation. Well, the boys were assigned the later registration time so it was "make new friend day" all over again. I met a lovely girl from New Orleans whose parents live in Italy, and she was taking a few classes over the summer. We had a school BBQ in the Lemon Tree Courtyard in the middle of the school. I met Jill after the Orientation at the Colosseum. She gives tours throughout ancient Rome, and I followed along and was her "little helper." That night I had to move my over-packed bags to a new hotel. When I got to the hotel, they informed me they had over-reserved rooms, and they were sending me to ANOTHER hotel. They paid for my taxi, and I was off to a different hotel. When I got there around midnight, the hotel restaurant was closed so I took a walk around the city to find some pizza. Ended up at a cute restaurant. Tables are all super close together, and I was sitting practically on top of two men having dinner. One was from America and the other from Italy. The Italian man's daughter worked for the American in America. The American was on vacation and passed through to meet his favorite worker's parents. I ended up just moving my chair and sitting with them. Nice men who gave me some good advice about the easiest way to get to the Vatican the following morning.
On Saturday I woke up super early, bummed I was no where near "my" little cafe to get my daily cappuccino. I had to settle for a new, less friendly cafe. In Italy you drink coffee like shots. You drink at the bar standing up. If you sit down it's over double the price. So I order two, and I drink them with a croissant. Had to move all my bags to the NEXT hotel. After I finally got settled in the hotel I had originally booked, I decided to try the metro. It was easy, and I made it to Jill's tour meeting place. She gave a three hour tour of the Vatican. I can't express how truly captivating her tour was! I can't sit still for thirty minutes in class, and she had me and thirty others complete attention for 180 minutes strolling through Vatican City. She answered good and bad questions with enthusiasm, gave every family advice on where to go after, and even helped a lady look for her lost earring! I admire her patience, and her love for the Vatican spread to every single person on that tour.
Since I have no older siblings, I gladly follow her around. She is truly gifted in her ability to share knowledge! She makes history easy to understand, and her humor and real-life perspective provide great entertainment. After the tour we went to a bar and had a few coffees and a glass of champagne. We then went to her friend's birthday party. At first I was a bit apprehensive to crash the birthday dinner. In Italy, it is not only customary, but encouraged to bring extra guests to parties! What an inclusive environment, hah. I can only Imagine if my mom brought an extra three people to a dinner party in Charlotte? Saying the hosts would be pissed is an understatement. There would be less food, the table would then be off center, the group dynamics-completely ruined... This is just another reason why I love Italy. Good food, good friends, and an inclusive easy going atmosphere! People truly enjoy each others company. They look for reasons to celebrate instead of motives to complain.
The birthday girl was from America, but half her guests were Italian and only spoke Italian. What a real life test. Thanks to my Duke Italian teacher, Della, I managed. The dinner was incredible. It was a five-course meal, and I was full after the first two! Italian dinners can take hours, but Jill mentioned that this one was even longer than normal! We finished dinner around midnight, and I took a cab back to my hotel. The hot shower before bed put me right to sleep.
A domani,
Jessica
Buongiorno
"Only bring what you can carry." How many times in a girl's life time does she hear these words? Speaking for myself, i've probably heard that over two-hundred and fifty four times. I've never listened.
I thought I packed perfectly. Two months in Italy and one month in India was going to take up my entire summer. I made little piles all over my room. Even my mom commented that it looked like I had made significant progress in my packing since the semester in Australia. My mom was wrong. I was wrong. My two giant bags were both a solid 20 pounds heavier than they should have been. I also dragged a mini rolly, a big Long Champ, and my favorite purse that Nana gave me. As my dad and I were barely able to drag everything in the airport, he was threatening me under his breath that if they were over weight, I was taking stuff out. But as Gary started chatting it up with the airport bag lady, they discovered their birthdays matched, Tax Day, best day of the year. Not only did my extra 40 pounds make it on the flight without any extra charges, Gary managed to talk his way into seeing me off at the gate. I think i'm the only twenty-one year old that gets a hug from their daddy right before getting on the plane.
I left on Monday, May 17th, on a direct flight to Rome! Great flight. I had the two seats to myself. A nice Italian man across the isle quizzed me on some Italian vocabulary and gave me a list of bars. Surprisingly, the flight attendants were terribly cold. Honestly they were a little old and couldn't fit that easily through the isles. Maybe time for them to retire? One fifty something flighty was trying to flirt with a thirty something Italian man. She was telling him how she was from Florida and was a "beach gal." I was over this lady, and I hit my button for some complimentary water.
I jumped off the plane (now Tuesday) and gathered all my over-weight bags on a one Euro cart and headed out to meet Jill at a nearby cafe. Jill, one of my best friend's older sister, lives and works in Rome. She takes classes at the Angellicum, a Vatican University. She's currently starting a non-profit that helps religiously affiliated people coming to Rome. Jill was also a Public Policy major at Duke. To be a public policy major, you have to complete a public policy internship before your senior year, and Jill invited me to Rome to help her with some projects! I immediately took her up on the opportunity to live in Rome, work for the Vatican, and brush up on my Italian!
Jill brought me to a bed and breakfast near the Vatican. A lovely little Italian family with uno piccolo bambino had two rooms for rent. We dropped off my stuff and got some pizza. We ate delicious pizza on the steps in front of the Vatican and hit up her favorite gelato place on the way back to the B&B. I got a nice nap before taking my first solo trip on the bus system to meet Jill. One of Jill's friends, a priest, invited us to a dinner party at his friend Fabio's house. Fabio is not a priest, but is friends with these guys so he offered his home so they could cook a fabulous dinner in his kitchen! This was a beautiful area and we had the most amazing Indian food cooked by Pakistani priests! What a memorable first night and dinner in Rome! Fabio offered to drive Jill and me back. I got my first experience riding in the car with an Italian man. He even put my dad to shame. We whizzed past monuments, up hills, and through mini ally ways. I always close my eyes when the car turns on a road that I can't personally imagine fitting in, nevertheless a car!
On Wednesday I slept in and walked around Rome by myself. I found a little cafe and had my first chat in Italian.
I am six hours ahead of Eastern American time here. Around 1pm I start receiving emails from my mom. In the late afternoon, I finally hear from friends! Sometimes if I wake up early enough, I can still catch my friends on bbm out at a bar!
Ciao!
Jessica
I thought I packed perfectly. Two months in Italy and one month in India was going to take up my entire summer. I made little piles all over my room. Even my mom commented that it looked like I had made significant progress in my packing since the semester in Australia. My mom was wrong. I was wrong. My two giant bags were both a solid 20 pounds heavier than they should have been. I also dragged a mini rolly, a big Long Champ, and my favorite purse that Nana gave me. As my dad and I were barely able to drag everything in the airport, he was threatening me under his breath that if they were over weight, I was taking stuff out. But as Gary started chatting it up with the airport bag lady, they discovered their birthdays matched, Tax Day, best day of the year. Not only did my extra 40 pounds make it on the flight without any extra charges, Gary managed to talk his way into seeing me off at the gate. I think i'm the only twenty-one year old that gets a hug from their daddy right before getting on the plane.
I left on Monday, May 17th, on a direct flight to Rome! Great flight. I had the two seats to myself. A nice Italian man across the isle quizzed me on some Italian vocabulary and gave me a list of bars. Surprisingly, the flight attendants were terribly cold. Honestly they were a little old and couldn't fit that easily through the isles. Maybe time for them to retire? One fifty something flighty was trying to flirt with a thirty something Italian man. She was telling him how she was from Florida and was a "beach gal." I was over this lady, and I hit my button for some complimentary water.
I jumped off the plane (now Tuesday) and gathered all my over-weight bags on a one Euro cart and headed out to meet Jill at a nearby cafe. Jill, one of my best friend's older sister, lives and works in Rome. She takes classes at the Angellicum, a Vatican University. She's currently starting a non-profit that helps religiously affiliated people coming to Rome. Jill was also a Public Policy major at Duke. To be a public policy major, you have to complete a public policy internship before your senior year, and Jill invited me to Rome to help her with some projects! I immediately took her up on the opportunity to live in Rome, work for the Vatican, and brush up on my Italian!
Jill brought me to a bed and breakfast near the Vatican. A lovely little Italian family with uno piccolo bambino had two rooms for rent. We dropped off my stuff and got some pizza. We ate delicious pizza on the steps in front of the Vatican and hit up her favorite gelato place on the way back to the B&B. I got a nice nap before taking my first solo trip on the bus system to meet Jill. One of Jill's friends, a priest, invited us to a dinner party at his friend Fabio's house. Fabio is not a priest, but is friends with these guys so he offered his home so they could cook a fabulous dinner in his kitchen! This was a beautiful area and we had the most amazing Indian food cooked by Pakistani priests! What a memorable first night and dinner in Rome! Fabio offered to drive Jill and me back. I got my first experience riding in the car with an Italian man. He even put my dad to shame. We whizzed past monuments, up hills, and through mini ally ways. I always close my eyes when the car turns on a road that I can't personally imagine fitting in, nevertheless a car!
On Wednesday I slept in and walked around Rome by myself. I found a little cafe and had my first chat in Italian.
I am six hours ahead of Eastern American time here. Around 1pm I start receiving emails from my mom. In the late afternoon, I finally hear from friends! Sometimes if I wake up early enough, I can still catch my friends on bbm out at a bar!
Ciao!
Jessica
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