Left, Left, Right, Left, Oops That's a Canal...

Venice is a mildly panic-inducing place. It’s not too hard to get completely and totally lost in a matter of a few steps, and given that the city was put together without a plan and without accounting for carriages or cars (because why would you need those when you have a boat?) there are streets that are literally only wide enough for two people to pass next to each other in opposing directions. And those that only one person can fit through at any given time.

The whole city is paved in the usual Italian gray slate sidewalk that looks like tiles on a floor, the buildings are close together so you can’t see any towers or structures to help you know where you are, and the signs leading or from the main sights seem to be leading you ‘round and ‘round in circles.
Left, right, right, right, cross the square, wait, where’s the sign? Left, right, around the random medieval church, right, left, oops that’s a canal, back, right? Where are the signs? Back, canal again. Map. Are there street signs here? Nope. Back, right, left, guy trying to get you to eat dinner in his restaurant who won’t leave you alone, left, right, wow this is a tiny street, scusi, scusi, ok, right…pause…A SIGN! Left right, bridge, straight, bridge, right, left, cross square…AH HA train station! But the canal is in the way!

That’s how it feels to try to navigate Venice. We were only doing it with three people, and it was stressful. I can’t even imagine trying to do it with a big group or with a family. Be forewarned, therefore, don’t go to Venice unless you are prepared to get lost and end up in some pretty shady alleyways and/or have everyone gets really tired and frustrated on the way back to the station.

That said, the city is very beautiful. The buildings are striking and the Grand Canal in particular makes it feel very lovely and old. I could not stop thinking that A) I wanted a long flowing gown to swish around the city streets in and B) every depiction of the Black Death I had ever seen was probably drawn in Venezia. There is an air of absolute desertedness in most of the city, and that is surreal and creepy beyond belief, especially given that you seem to walk miles in twists and turns without seeing anyone.

Sometimes you’ll hear a song from the 1950s playing on an old radio from somewhere that you can’t see as you cross a deserted square with a Medieval well in the middle of it. Since everyone is lost, you’ll run into the same people (often at the same places) over and over, adding to the feeling of surreality. And then, after about an hour of walking and crossing canals and being confused…POOF there is Piazza San Marco and tons of people milling around in masks.

The piazza was decorated really prettily, with Christmas lights everywhere and a big stage in the very center in a fake kind of “Garden of the Senses” made especially for Carnevale. We had all bought masks to wear and the light glinted off of the glitter of every person’s mask making the whole crowd twinkle in the fading daylight.

So many languages were being spoken that it was impossible to predict where someone might be from until they began to speak. American English, British English, Japanese, Italian with various regional accents, German, French, Arabic, Russian, North African variants of French/local languages, Romanian…it was an experience to behold.

There was a troupe of actors putting on a very old style show in the area of the square closer to the water, with just a sheet over some twine for a backdrop and with masks for everyone. They seemed to be straight out of the Middle Ages, when groups of actors would travel around the countryside and entertain people. The show was a mixture of a bunch of different Shakespeare plays, all in Italian! The Tempest, The Merchant of Venice (of course), and of course lots of cross-dressing women and people falling in love. At the end, everyone died melodramatically, and then Shakespeare revealed himself and raised everyone from the dead with the magic of the written word. It was fun!

Many people with enough money to do it go ALL OUT for Carnevale in Venice. They dress in regal costumes from the Golden Age of the city, or from other great courts in Europe in the past (for instance I definitely saw a King Henry the VII). They are usually in couples, with masks and rich outfits, parading around the square and posing for pictures with tourists. They also all go out to dinner in the fancy restaurants around the edges of the square, which have huge plate glass windows, so everyone gathers around and takes their pictures while the dine.

The people who go all out are likely members of the modern aristocracy, so it is part fantasy and part reality that they put on looks that say, “Why yes, my darling peasant, you may take a photo of my resplendent outfit and escort” when people try to take pictures of them. I was slightly uncomfortable, since that is one of the only times that it is acceptable for the modern day nobility of the Rich to look down on those below them so obviously, even if it was supposed to be in good fun.

As for me, I wore a blue and glittery mask with a big glittery bow from the 99-cent store in my hair, and I sprayed golden glitter onto my head. Laura and Carol, the two girls I was with, both got masks that matched their outfits, and we all looked pretty fantastic if you ask me.

As the night drew on we were standing in the crowd, and I was looking around the square until I felt someone staring at me. It was two women who were trying to take a photo of my profile in my mask with the tower and the square behind me. I tried to duck and said, “Oh excuse me!” but they told me to keep looking up so they could take a picture. They took it and then just walked off, making me feel odd that someone in the world has a picture of me they took on purpose. I took one from the same angle so I could see what it looked like.



After the awkward picture moment, a grand beauty pagent began in the square! It was a beautiful show, with lovely ladies in fanciful outfits and beautiful dancing and singing routines. Everyone in the square was watching, and admiring the beautiful women. Except that they were all drag queens! They were exceptional! Every one had a different look, and they all did a beautiful walk on the catwalk in the spotlight. The hostess of the whole event was THE drag queen, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth I of England!



While we were standing and watching, a lovely lady dressed in a stunning Carnevale costume walked up next to me. She had a wig and a mask, but so did all of the other women in costume in the square. Everyone clamored to take her picture, and then she seemed to grow bored and walked away from the stage. Two minutes later, she was on the catwalk and strutting her stuff! I had no idea that Madame X was a drag queen, and I had been standing right next to her!

I’m not sure who won the pageant, but it was a thing to behold! The fact that this could go on in a country where it is still very difficult to be of a different sexual persuasion was wonderful. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and no one made fun of the ladies onstage because they were striking and talented, and frankly put my everyday boring femininity to shame.

After that, we wandered back through the dark and deserted streets to the train station. We got onto the first train leaving to the next station on the tracks, where our train home was leaving from, with some German/Austrian guys standing in the same little compartment. They were funny, especially when the train made a random stop to wait for another one to pass and they stuck their heads out the door, saying in English, “Where are we…?”

Then we took the long and crowded train ride back to Ferrara, ending up at home at 2:00 AM on the dot. It was a wonderful adventure.

Leo=Cutest dog in the world

Last night we all went to dinner with our families and with the students from Darsena. It was really fun, and Carmen was hilarious because she dressed all up in a sexy outfit and put on pretty makeup and did her hair nicely. She looked awesome, in fact I felt really underdressed despite wearing pearls and a nice shirt.

When we got home, the cutest thing I have ever seen happened because of Leo. He was barking at the door when we got back and as soon as it was open, he bolted out into the street wagging the second half of his entire body. He couldn’t have been happy to see Carmen and he ran around in circles barking and wagging his tail like he hadn’t seen her in years!

We went inside and he was still super excited, but then he began to bark at Carmen’s feet and seemed to be attacking her shoe. “Ok, ok, hang on a second…” she said, and she took off her right shoe. Immediately Leo picked it up in his mouth and ran off with it. “See,” Carmen said, “When he has the shoe he knows that mamma can’t leave again!”

Leo kept running around with the shoe in his mouth and Carmen couldn’t get him to give it back. He is a smart dog if he figured out that stealing her shoes means she can’t leave all by himself!

Florence in less than Five hours

Today was an awesome day! I went alone to Florence on the train this morning at 11 AM and I went to the same train station that I went to when I came to Florence two years ago. I recognized the station and walked out along the street in the direction of the Duomo. It was an absolutely beautiful day, chilly but bright with sunshine, and I walked along in the pretty atmosphere.

I had planned on just going to the Uffizi Gallery and then leaving, but the museum took much less time than I had thought it would. I was in awe of all of the works of art, that I had seen in books and posters and talked about in tons of classes, right there in front of me, just behind the glass. I could walk up and basically put my face onto the paintings by Carevaggio, Michaelangelo, and Giotto, some of the greatest painters that the world has ever known. I saw the Venus of Urbino and the Holy Family (by Michaelangelo).

The Holy Family by Michaelangelo

Venus of Urbino

It was incredible to be so close to the great works of art, and there were also original statues from Roman times, of Julius Cesar and Augustus and Cicero. It was crazy to have them staring back at me!! I liked walking around by myself and moving however I wanted to, and not having to wait for anyone or anything.

After the Uffizi, I went for a walk in the sunshine on Ponte Vecchio. It was way more beautiful than I thought it would have been. The Arno river is a really cool color of greenish-white-blue, which I think is from is absorbing minerals in the mountains. I walked along the river to Santa Croce, which is the church where Michaelangelo, Galileo, and Machiavelli are buried! What a day of being close to history’s giants!

After the church, I walked back to the main square and from there to one of the markets in the city that I had passed earlier. I bought myself a pretty necklace and then I found the most perfect Venetian Carnevale mask ever. It is beautiful and blue and sparkly, with jingle bells.

After that, I still had an hour and a half until the train left for Ferrara, so I just went on a walk though the city and wandered into and out of the many very very fashionable stores all around the city center. I went and got a caffe and a bottle of San Pellegrino at a café right next to the Duomo. Then I went back to the station and got onto my train to Ferrara, and was back in time for dinner.

An interesting phenomenon began today. As I was walking around in Firenze, four separate times someone walked up to me and asked me for directions in Italian! I think I must have looked like I knew where I was going, and I must have dressed appropriately for the city because people mistook me for a citizen. I’m not sure what that means in practice, since I tend to think that I look very not-Italian. Either way, it was really exciting to have Italians asking me for help!

Another interesting thing that I noticed today was that I was not singled out as an American by the multitudes of foreign tourists in the city. It was actually kind of off-putting to hear English spoken in such thick American accents…I purposely said very little so that I wouldn’t be identified as one of them. It was very weird to feel like I was a foreigner to people of my our nationality, and made me feel slightly like I am floating around through space without a country or a home. Then again as soon as I got back to Ferrara I felt at home.

Over the last week I’ve seen some really interesting things about Italian culture. This country lives in a constant and open state of contradiction and juxtaposition, and I appreciate and hate it in the exact same moment.

-On Friday, I saw one of the most pregnant women I have ever seen in my life load her one year old son into a bike seat and take off across the cobblestones on her bici. I am terrified of riding on main streets here sometimes (though I am slowly losing my fear of cars and getting more confident on my bike, which by the way literally has no brakes anymore because they broke off in my hand yesterday morning. I use my right foot to stop. Have you ever seen a “hot foot” in a cartoon where someone is dragging their feet along the ground? Yeah, that actually happens.)

-About two hours after Fearless Pregnant Woman, I saw a grown man walking arm in arm with his girlfriend and wearing UGG BOOTS tucked with his jeans tucked into them. They were exactly like the ones girls wear in the States, and they matched his fur-lined jacket. This is why Gay-Dar (Gay Radar) does not work in Italy.

-On the sides of the highways there are pit stops with trashcans. These are empty, and the trash is all around them, not in them. Italy isn’t exactly a “green” country yet.

-There are a million stores in Ferrara that would never make it in the States. For example, a specialty lightbulb store.

-Italy drinks more bottled water per capita than any nation in the world, and yet they do not recycle plastic. Bottles are everywhere!!

I like that Italy is a constant, open contradiction. Thank you for all the letters everyone!! I an happy to have you all!

Tongues, Chapels, and SPAL

Yesterday I went to my first sporting event ever outside the USA. It was a game of the Ferrara soccer team, SPAL, against Ravenna. SPAL is ranked pretty highly in our league and beat Ravenna 3-1 last time they played before yesterday. As we were walking in, Riccardo (our CIEE housing director who also is a rabid SPAL fan) bought us all blue and white SPAL soccer scarves so that we would have the right colors on.

We had to bring our passports to confirm our identities as we went into the stadium. They checked our purses and patted us down, and then we were free to go into tour section. The rowdy fans (among whom we put ourselves) are put into a locked kind of cage, complete with a chain link fence with razor-sharp triangles on top of it and a net to prevent fans from chucking things onto the field. They had also blocked off a huge section of the stadium seats to make the opposing fans at least a hundred yards away. All of this to keep us from starting a riot! Also the opposing fans do not have a cover over their heads and so have to stand in the rain.

This is the rowdy-fan cage. There weren't this many people there but this is what it looks like!

As we were walking in, the girls began to realize that we were at about a 50 to one ratio with all the men everywhere, and I joked that I should’ve put a bag over my head to prevent everyone from staring at the blondeness. We went into the bleachers and stayed standing up, because of course, true fans don’t sit to watch their team.

Because two SPAL fans were arrested in another city last weekend for fighting with the fans of the opposite team, there was a 15-minute cheering/singing “strike” during which no one was allowed to cheer or sing the team songs to show the authorities that we were supporting the guys who got put in jail.

After the cheering strike, three guys started leading the crowd in cheers and songs. They were hilarious!! And really vulgar. I will put some of them below, but I’m not going to translate them just in case someone doesn’t want to know. You can all go to google translate and find out for yourselves or ask me in an email! Keep in mind these are just the ones I remember…
“Forza SPAL! Forza SPAL!”
“Ravenna, Ravenna, vaffanculo! Ravenna, Ravenna, vaffanculo!”
“Alle, alle, Ferrara, alle alle!”
“Tu sei la merda…quando ti penso, voglio cacare…”

And then when we were down three goals to none:

“Che sara, sara…”

It was really fun even though they ended up losing terribly in a shut out. Afterwards there was the only traffic jam I have yet seen in Ferrara, with everyone trying to get home. Today, on Tuesday, Riccardo sent us all an email that goes like this:

" La presente per ringraziarVi di cuore a titolo personale ed a nome della Curva Ovest Ferrara con la viva Speranza che la sconfitta di ieri non sia un deterrente al Vostro avvicinamento al cuore pulsante della città......Grazie Ragazzi !! Sempre FORZA SPAL !!

Riccardo

I would like to thank you personally, and on behalf of the CURVA OVEST , for coming to support SPAL. I hope that the defeat will not act as a deterrent for your involment with the beating heart of the town.... Thank you guys!!

FORZA SPAL FOREVER!!

Riccardo"

On Saturday we went to Padova (Padua), and we had a tour of the city. We went inside the Bascillica di San Antonio, and saw his tomb and all the letters people from all over the world had written to him. I have never seen so many letters to a saint, or so many candles and offerings to one. We walked through the church and arrived in the reliquary room, where they have an absolutely huge golden case that holds Saint Antonio’s jaw, and his tongue and vocal cords.

This is San Antonio's Jawbone!

Because Saint Antonio was a preacher, he spoke the Gospels to many people. The Church exhumed his body a few years after his death, they found his tongue and vocal cords were incorrupt (not decayed). They took them out and put them into the reliquary that you can see today. It was a little weird to be honest, staring at a 780-year old tongue.

After that we went to the Cappella degli Scrovegni, which is covered in frescos by Giotto. The works in the chapel are about 150 years before their time in terms of art history. Giotto painted the people with expressions rarely seen in art even of later periods. It was absolutely breathtaking. The frescos were finished in 1305, a good 100 years before even the first works of the Renaissance.

Everything was changing in these frescoes. There is perspective, and the sky is actually blue! The people are interacting and look frighteningly lifelike. I want to post pictures of the chapel, but I couldn’t bring in my camera. So here is a link to the website of the chapel, and you can see the frescos here:

http://www.cappelladegliscrovegni.it/eng/index_e.htm

We had free time, and I went with Laura to go back to the Bascillica. We got there just in time for the end of Mass, which was great timing! I had bought a little tiny Saint Anthony picture and I went around asking the friars that were standing around if they could bless it for me. I got sent from one to the other, until I asked one tall priest and he told me to wait by the door (he was talking to the Vatican Guards that looked slightly annoyed since I had kind of been following them around).

He brought me off to a small room in the cloisters adjacent to the church and asked me, "Where are you from?" I was flustered that he was speaking English, and I forgot how to answer for a second. But eventually I told him that I was American, and he said, "Ok, I will first bless you, and then bless the little object."

In Italian, he said, "Oh God the Father Almighty, watch over and protect you faithful daughter, and also send your spirit over this medallion. And I bless you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." I said "Amen." and he gave me a hug and said, "God Bless you," in English. He was a wonderful and nice priest, and young too! There is hope yet for the Catholic preisthood lol!

When we came out of the church, the sky was aflame with the sunset and the clouds were moving quickly, like people running late for an appointment. It was gorgeous.

Overall, another great weekend! Send me emails and Let me know if you guys want something from a specific place!

400 year old mosaics and old fashionedness

We walked into the baptistery and looked up above our heads. The description outside the building said that this small church had been constructed in the 400s, before Christianity had gotten it’s act together and consolidated the ideas of the Church into any kind of coherent ideology. The tiny chapel had once belonged to the Arian cult of early Christianity, who gave it its mosaic-covered ceiling.

And the Baptistery of the Arians in Ravenna is stunning. It looks as though it were tiled just yesterday, when in fact the images are over 1500 years old. They are strikingly accurate depictions of people, with each of the disciples around the perimeter with a distinct face, and with Jesus and John the Baptist at the center. In this tiny town that was once the capital of three separate empires (the Roman, the Byzantine, and the Ostrogoth) has some of the oldest intact mosaics in the world!

There are at least five sites in the town that have intact paleo-christian art inside them, and they are all unbelievably well preserved. The church of San Vitale had a huge and mosaic-covered apse, with an arch covered in the Apostles and at the center an image that me and Laura dubbed, Rainbow Jesus, because he has a circle of rainbow colors around him.

It was interesting to see how certain symbols have changed over the more-than-one-thousand years since the mosaics were made. For instance I doubt you would ever see a Rainbow Jesus these days because of the connotation rainbows have with the gay community, and some religious people have become so anti-gay that Rainbow Jesus to them might border on blasphemy. Another example is that of the ancient floor of the church, which was once covered wall to wall in swastikas. For obvious reasons, that is no longer an acceptable symbol to cover a church with, but in the 400s it was a sacred symbol.

The town itself is really tiny and sleepy, but for some reason it, too was bombarded during the war. It is amazing that only one of the churches with the beautiful mosaics was hit. This was unfortunately one of the oldest, San Giovanni Evangelista, founded by the Empress Galla in the early 400s. They rebuilt the church after the war, but the mosaics that were there were mostly destroyed.

It rained the entire day, from the moment we stepped off of the train in Ravenna. Luckily it was not very cold there, but when we returned to Ferrara it was snowing! And bitter, humid cold! Me and Laura rode our bikes down Viale Cavour from the station back to our house, which is actually kind of far. Once we were here we had just enough time to put on warm clothes and then leave again to go to Mass at the cathedral.

Mass is at 6:00 PM every Sunday in the cathedral, and the words are exactly the same as in the States. There are nuns who sing (terribly) and do all the readings, and the music is all very similar to the way it is in the USA. Except that the wine is for the priest only (I think that has something to do with people realizing if they shared the cup of wine, they died of plague…) One funny thing is that when it’s time for Communion everyone just sort of mashes forward toward the altar, because there are no ushers to keep everyone in line! Everyone just jostles for position like they are at a sporting event. It’s hilariously Italian. Also the priest tonight sounded a bit like the Godfather to me.

Today was the first time I had taken the train since arriving in Italy! The trains are really nice here in the North, since even the regional “Bacon Trains” have new seats and some even have a computer that tells you how fast you are going! In Ferrara over the last week I finished my intensive language class (which was one of the hardest classes I have ever taken, since we crammed 40 hours of class into two weeks), and on Friday I took my bike around the city because the sun was out and it was pretty.

I rode about 7 km through the city and around the outside of the walls, and there were so many cute dogs everywhere that kept coming up to my bici (bike) and wanting to play with me. I saw the most beautiful boxer I have ever seen in my life! And I nearly ran over a Chihuahua that had wandered into my path. The walls are really pretty and it is amazing how well they have held up against time (and bombs).

I am slowly learning more and more about this city and everything is becoming more home-like. I love coming back to Carmen’s house and having dinner. Everything I eat is the greatest thing ever because I never have time to eat during the day, and plus Carmen is a great cook. I finally managed to take a picture of Leo, but he is terrified of my camera now since the flash popped up and startled him. Apparently Leo is inammorated with blondes, because he has always tried to give “bacini” (read: licks all over my hands and face) to the blonde girls that have lived here.

He is kind of like Italian men, because last night on my way home from Bar Tsunami (a bar near the university that I go to a lot) with my friends a young man came running up beside me as I went past the bar he was leaving on my bici. He grabbed my shoulder, saying, “Amore della mia vita! Bionda, ‘morosa,! Cosa posso fare per innamorarti di me?” (“Love of my life! Blonde, love! What can I do to make you fall in love with me?”) I didn’t even look at him, and I put out my left hand and pushed him away from me as we went down the street.

When I told Carmen about that today at dinner, she said that I shouldn’t have pushed him. I should have kicked him with my foot instead! I think it’s funny how the Italian women just brush men off.

Writing in English is like having a conversation with an old friend. It’s comfortable and I’m really happy to be able to form sentences that express my thoughts. In English you can make up a metaphor on the spot to express exactly how you feel, but here I think that people just use old proverbs. The language itself seems to be much less flexible, which honestly fits somewhat with the reluctant-to-change Italian ideology.

For instance, people here are actually pretty racist. And contradictory. The other night, Carmen got to talking about immigrants who have come into the country as clandestini (illegals), and how angry she is that she pays taxes that go to put them on a plane to deport them back to Libya or Albania or wherever. When she gets angry, her Calebrase accent comes out a lot, kind of like someone from the South of the USA becoming angry and suddenly regaining their accent. She even said, “Italy is a racist country. And nobody wants to talk about it.” And then two seconds later, she is talking about how Gypsies live by stealing and how they have bad blood. Nothing to be done if you are born a Gypsy. And my brain goes, “What is that?!” It’s not always about skin color, either, because they seem to hate Romanians just as much as they hate Tunisians.

I keep getting angry with myself because I keep making excuses for the Italians’ racism. I say to myself, “They’re just a bit old-fashioned.” Of course, I then realize that “old-fashioned” generally also means “ass-backwards,” and I get mad at them for being so out of the loop and mad at myself for not speaking up against it. Certainly every country has its racial problems, but I think that because Italy and France and other Western European countries never had a Civil Rights movement like the US did in the 1950s and 1960s, they are wayyyyyyy behind the times in terms of race relations. And I think that it’s only going to get harder as this decade goes on and the people on whom racism is being exacted get more and more vocal in their demands for equality.

More than anything I am learning that it is really hard to be this far away from everyone you love. I try to keep myself busy with trips and sightseeing and classes, but I find myself daydreaming about being home with the Colorado sunshine and the kitties and my family and Michael. I want a Chipotle burrito and a hug from everyone. I want KBCO, and downtown Louisville, and open spaces. I want snow and not sleet. I want to be able to watch TV and not constantly be tearing my brain out trying to comprehend not just the language but also the giant female bodybuilder in a bikini in the background of a variety show. But it’s ok. Things will get easier.

Something that helps majorly is that is appears that Spring has kind of arrived in Ferrara!! There are more days of sunshine and the grass is all green and beautiful. I don’t think that it gets cold enough here for grass to go dormant in the winter, which is a strange thing. Today I took a walk around the walls in the sunshine. It was pretty much the most awesome thing ever. Also, I am switching up into more difficult classes. Three will be in Italian and then one in English.

This weekend we are going to Padova (Padua). I promise to write more often now that I have conquered the Italian internet, and to stop writing a novel every time.

Pictures from Ravenna:

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#/album.php?aid=2359841&id=10231884