Venice: A Visual Treat

Just posting a collection of some shots from Venice during Carnivale. Gorgeous costumes, shows, and overall scenery. Stay tuned for a post about my weekend there-it was an experience, for sure!

"Se abiti qui ti voglia di fare una passeggiata liberatoria lasciando a casa te stesso, una camminata per prendere un po' di respiro dalla tua personalita. Abbandoni i tuoi pensieri, ti dimentichi di te. Esci e ti limiti a guardarti interno, vorresti che fosse il paesaggio a pensare al posto tuo mostrandoti una serie di spettacoli da comtemplare, rumori, odori, scene di cui prendere atto e basta: me ecco che trovi subito qualcuno che ti saluta, ti chiama per nome, ti restituisce a te stesso, ti ricorda chi sei."-Tiziano Scarpa

I love this quote from one of the readings we did for Italian class. It's from a story about Venice and describes the way in which you can forget yourself in Venice and surrender to becoming a receptacle for the sounds, smells, and sensations of the city. So true, and well-written. More later!

A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Day a Pigeon Shat on Me

Don't worry, this story ends well.

So this one weekend, we decided to try to go to Bologna for a day. Nicole and I are not the best at getting up early, and are pretty much always late for everything. Plus we live 45 minutes to an hour away from the train station, about as far as any of the students in this program can possibly get. Not being completely aware just how far away we were, we decided to walk. I think you can tell what's going to happen next.

Of course, we got there barely in time to make the train, having sprinted the last portion of the way after bumping into our very talkative program director and avoiding the inevitable long (but nice, of course!) conversation that would have resulted if we hadn't told him right away that we were "in ritardo" (late). The guy in front of us in line for the ticket booth couldn't seem to figure out how to order his tickets, and we watched the minutes tick by until we had officially missed our train. Sweaty, cranky, and ticket-less, Nicole and I spotted our salvation across from the train station. A gigantic golden M.

I know what you're thinking. McDonald's?! When there are thousands of delicious eateries around full of fresh pasta, pizza, and pastries?! It may have been an insult to Italian cooking, but at that moment McDonald's was just what we needed. Plus, McDonald's in Italy is WAY better than in America (keeping with the general trend of all Italian food as compared with American food). Chicken sandwiches have mushrooms in them (!!!) and can be ordered with curly fries (!!!). So we sat and ate our curly fries and watched people walk in and out of the train station, starting to feel a little more optimistic about our messed-up plans.

On the way back toward the center of Padova, Nicole and I were chatting when suddenly I felt a *plop* right on my coat shoulder. I looked over, saw a greenish mess and started (what else?) wailing in the middle of the street. Yup, a pigeon pooped on me. It's something I've feared my whole life, except I always thought it would be a seagull. Nicole started using a tissue and anti-bacterial hand gel to get it off while I continued to wail and moan dramatically-a combination which caused many Italians in the area to stare at us. About two seconds after causing a scene, we were able to laugh hysterically.

All of these unfortunate events lead me to the real reason why I'm writing about this day, which is because after the missed train and the fast food and the bird poop, our luck turned around and brought us to the coolest thing I have seen in Padova so far: the Antique Market. Circling the entire Prato della Valle (the gorgeous piazza filled with statues and a big fountain pretty close to where we live) and showing up every three weeks, the Sunday Antique Market is full of treasures. I think I would live here just for that market. I literally just want to take my favorite items from all the carts and arrange them in my own eclectic apartment or house in Padova. We saw gorgeous old, gilded furniture and collections of African and Asian artwork. Not to mention old typewriters, cameras, and stylish telephones that make me wish we still used landlines as often as our cell phones. We found a woman's diary too, with the most delicate drawings and calligraphy decorating some of the pages inside. I'm pretty sure we walked around about three times, knowing we probably weren't going to buy anything but just wanting to keep looking anyway. The market definitely made my afternoon.

It was totally worth the bird shit, I'm telling you.

Oh non l'ho fatto! (Oh, no you didn't!)

Ok, don't get me wrong. I love almost everything here. I mean, to the point of thinking I should just cash in my return flight ticket and stay. Italy is so much more relaxed than the US, from what I can see. People walk slower, sit longer, eat more, and don't feel guilty drinking during the afternoon. It's rare to see people going out for a run, because they already get plenty of exercise by opting to walk everywhere rather than waste gas driving a few blocks. People seem to stop and appreciate beauty around them a bit more, maybe because they're constantly surrounded by breathtaking architecture.
There are, however, a few things that are not so hot about Italy. None of them are a big deal really, but I figure I should be allowed at least one post to do some complaining.

1. Umbrella Manners: No, really. People in Padova do not seem to understand the physics of passing other people in the street when it's raining. One umbrella + another umbrella + no attempt at movement = UMBRELLA COLLISION. My housemate Nicole constantly reminds me that in New York, these people would get beaten up (or at least screamed at) for not following the Umbrella Code of Conduct.

2. Shower-Baths: Our house has a hand-held shower. The best way to use it is to sit cross-legged in the tub, which means you never get water on your entire body at once. I've gotten used to it pretty quickly, but I know that the next time I get a real shower that doesn't leave me still feeling cold (Italians also apparently don't like to turn their heat on very often), I'm going to relish it.

3. Peeing In a Hole: This isn't a problem everywhere, but some places still use the outdated bathroom, aka a hole in the ground. Honestly, this is just against biology. We know men can handle this type of toilet, but women? Just awkward.

4. No Dryers: Washing machines and dryers go together like peanut butter and jelly. Thus, not having dryers is like eating a plain peanut butter sandwich-alright, but not quite as satisfying. Actually, it's more like watching your clothing dry for three days and then giving up and putting on damp socks.

5. Calling it a night, early...every night: Things in Padova (and in most places in Italy, it seems) close way early by our standards. Bars are usually kicking you out around midnight (maybe 1 am) and you'll be hard-pressed to find anything that runs 24-7 (oh, how I miss CVS and grocery stores that stay open past 8 pm!). For any night owl (pretty much any college student?) this is no fun.

Okay okay, now that I've gotten that out of my system, I'll go back to eating, drinking, and being merry.

Verona, la citta d'amore!

I think I've found where I want to live. Verona is so beautiful, it's hard to describe. We went there for a day trip one weekend and I think I took photos of almost every side street we passed, most of which looked very similar, but none of which I got sick of seeing.

On the map, everything in Verona looks spread apart, but you quickly realize that it takes mere minutes to walk between the most popular landmarks throughout the city. Some amazing cathedrals dot the map, and we hit pretty much all of them. My favorite was Anastasia-a wonderful painted ceiling and some beautiful artwork to be found in the radiating chapels. Unfortunately for a lot of the churches (except the large Duomos) you have to pay a couple euro to get inside, but this one was worth it.

We played American tourists (I was already wearing the huge camera slung around my neck, so I fit the part well) and went to one of Verona's main attractions: the house of Juliet Capulet. It's a little gimicky for sure, and it takes about 5 minutes total to see the balcony and pose with the statue, but it's a must-see all the same. I actually really liked the love notes graffitied on the walls leading up to the house-a touch of modernity that gave the site a lot of character.

Verona has fantastic shopping, an ancient arena, a beautiful and expansive castle with a great view, and a bustling, colorful main piazza. From one of the arches in this piazza hangs a whale bone (a rib, maybe?) which, as the legend goes, will fall on someone who has never told a lie. Hasn't fallen yet, and definitely didn't fall on any of us. On the other hand, I'm not sure I'd want it to fall on me? "Hey, thanks for being such an honest, upstanding citizen! Now this large whale bone is going to crush you and probably break at least one of your bones!" What a reward!

Verona is definitely a little paradise, and someone told me that it's a place that's somewhat closed off and happy to be contained within itself. I sort of understand why though-it's the type of idyllic Italian city that's easy to become obsessed with.

The day after the Verona trip, we hopped on a train to Ferrara. It was hard to compete with Verona, but my favorite parts were definitely the Boldini exhibit we caught and the Duomo. Boldini is like an Italian version of John Singer Sargeant, but the collection showed off his ability to work with a variety of styles. Some of his paintings looked like they could have been done by another artist. Still, the most impressive were the ones highly advertised by the signs and brochures-his full-length portraits of fashionably-dressed women. There was one of a woman in a silvery dress that I could have stared at for ages. The brush strokes got looser as they got closer to the the edges of the painting, so that her dress and limbs fluttered out in such an ethereal way. Gorgeous. Note to self: look up more of Boldini's work.

The Duomo in Ferrara has a copy in the dome of Michelango's Last Judgement from the Sistine Chapel, and it was equally stunning. The dome was dark when we first came in, so we were afraid that we wouldn't get to see it. But then BAM! they turned on the spotlights and there it was in all its glory. Quite the dramatic appearance.

Check facebook for the rest of the photos! They say/show more than I could here.

I learn Italian, is possible?

I have to admit, the culture shock here is pretty nonexistent. It might be because I've been to Europe before, but I think it has more to do with the fact that Europe is ultimately still a part of the western world and therefore not really very different from the US. Speaking the language though, is a totally different issue. I figured I should share a couple of stupid mishaps, or at least some that I remember.

So one of the first days of the program, the entire group went out for lunch together, led by the fabulous Maria Pia (one of the program directors, wearer of silly pink-tinted glasses, and quite possibly the cutest person ever) and the rest of the Padova staff. The restaurant provided us with multiple courses (yum!) unlimited wine (even better!) and a gigantic cake with an American flag on it. They were oh-so-pleased to present the cake especially...which unfortunately looked a lot better than it tasted. Anyway, I tried to tell my host mother during dinner about this spectacular lunch and said "Abbiamo mangiato una torta con una banda americana!" Our host family looked at me very strangely and then started miming flute-playing and repeating "Una banda?" Finally, my host mother said "Una bandiera?" Oops. I had been telling them that we had eaten a cake with an American marching band, instead of with a flag on it. Though they were momentarily impressed that the restaurant brought out musical accompaniment for our meal, I will never confuse banda and bandiera again!

I have also many times used "pesce" when I mean "pesca". It is completely unfair, in my opinion, that the words "fish" and "peach" are so dangerously close in pronunciation. I'm sick of asking for a "te pesce" and then realizing after the waiter gives me a strange smile that I just requested "fish tea". Gross!

Also, I have this horrible habit of conjugating everything in the past tense. Awful. It leads to sentences that would be translated in English to mean: "We ate this pizza now?" So embarrassing.

A bunch of us on the program have started to think a lot about how we sound to Italians with our crappy attempts at their language. It's adorable when the Italians speak in English to us, even when it sounds a bit funny. Put two and two together though, and you realize that YOU probably sound the same to them in their native language.

My friend Becky got a text message from some guy who was very excited to get her number at the discoteca (Italian nightclub) which read something like "I see you soon again and gives you kiss, is possible?" Unfortunately I can't recreate Becky's impression, which really makes it ten times funnier, but as a result we've now taken to texting each other in this broken English (more to make fun of how we must sound in Italian).

On Saturday morning, a text messaging conversation between Becky and I about a trip to Parma went as follows:

Me: you make train to parma?

Becky: we make yes and train change in bologna. we see yous soon yes?

Me: we not makes train and also has no computers for today. conundrum!

Becky: aye no! we call on our way home? or if you decides to come you call?

Me: we not frets now. christina help us retrieve possessions and is possible we see you later? we hope you has fun and lots of cheese!

Becky: much thanks! we see us more later!

Luckily, Italians (at least in Padova) are very receptive and even excited that we are trying to learn the language. Becky had a store owner in a camera shop clap and say "Brava!" for her when she used the future tense correctly in a sentence. It's so funny though, because no one would dare do that in the states to a foreigner trying to speak English. it might come off as condescending, whereas here it's just...encouraging?

We've learned not to be misled by their encouragement though, so that we don't start thinking our Italian skills are better than they actually are. We've gotten at least one honest comment to keep us humbly aware that we're still learning. One of our favorite bars is the Cantina del Gufo, a little underground place near one of the piazzas where the bartender, Mickey, is wonderfully friendly and makes killer mojitos. One night we were talking with him and he said "I know these people in Italy say 'Oh yes, your Italian is so good!' but don't listen to them. I am sorry, but your Italian is shit." HAH! He quickly-and genuinely-followed it up with "You will get better though, don't worry." Brutally honest, but it's part of why we love Mickey. He tells it like it is.

Who knows, by the end of the trip we might actually be able to converse in Italian without confusing "fish" and "peach". Is possible?

Il Principio/The Beginning

Ciao! Welcome to my study abroad experience in Italy, which you can now follow via the internets! I guess I should start with all the essentials. Let's do this with Italian question words, partly for organization, partly just so I remember what they are. 

Dove? I'm in a small city ("small" being defined as some 200,00 people) right near Venice called Padua. Or Padova, if you, like me, have a hard time making the "d" sound just right in the first pronunciation. It's known as "the city without" since they are famous for having a saint with no name, a cafe with no doors, and a piazza with no grass. None of which is actually true now, I've found. The piazza called Prato della Valle has plenty of greenery, the cafe Pedrocchi has since 1916 added glass doors to their establishment, and the mysterious "il Santo" has been dubbed Saint Antonio. I guess it was back in the good old days when Padua was "without". All in all though, it still seems to be a place with lots of hidden treasures, not nearly as touristy and flashy as Venice or even Florence and Milan, but full of wonderful things once you take the time to look around.

Quando? I'll be here for 4 months, beginning at the very end of January and lasting all the way until May 30th. Or maybe longer, if summer plans let me stay longer. And if I'm not broke! (Unlikely.)

Con cui? I'm with the Boston University in Padova program, which includes students mostly from (you guessed it!) Boston University, but also from a variety of other great schools like Columbia, WashU, Northwestern, Princeton, Tulane, and maybe some others that I'm forgetting. I'm the only one here from Tufts, which is pretty cool. We all live with host families, which is, in a word, FANTASTIC. I'm housing with another student named Nicole-a Creative Writing major from Columbia-and we're staying with a single mother (Maria) and her two daughters (Sofia, 19 and Elena, 16).

Per che? Because I've taken four semesters of Italian and want, BADLY, to become fluent. Or as close as possible. And classwork just doesn't do it for me at a certain point. I've always had this fantasy of living in Italy later in life and who knows if it'll happen, but it's probably a good idea to test drive the place beforehand, right? Also, being obsessed with everything art, I think I'm going to love being in a hotspot for culture and the arts. Plus, proximity to other European countries means room for lots of exploring. I chose Padova because it's small, a little unexpected, and forces me to become more immersed in the culture. Which brings me to my next and ultimate point of this first post: the meaning of this blog name.

My host mamma uses the word "particolare" a lot to describe certain funny situations and people. The first day when we arrived, she told us between laughs that we would soon learn that her little family, and Italians in general, are "particolare", a word she said meant "bello, ma un po' pazzo" (beautiful, but a little crazy). I liked that a lot, because I've found that often the most worthwhile things and most wonderful people turn out to be the ones that are beautiful in a quirky or unexpected way. Thus, the name of this blog, "Un Posto Particolare", means "A Particular Place".  Padova is "particular" in the sense of being the specific site of my program, but also in the sense of being what its residents might classify as uniquely beautiful. I can't wait to see what surprises I find in this place.

Here's to seeking out the "particolare". Read on!