Italy has taught me many things. What I believe has been the biggest lesson, is to love my family and friends until it hurts, kiss them on both cheeks, and share a pizza.
This is the first Christmas in a long time I have felt such a Christmas spirit. It comes from being away from home, and knowing in just 2 (1.5) days I get to see them again. I am like a child, and cannot wait for Santa to bring my family back to me. Ok, so actually me back to my family.
I do have to say, I am enjoying the holiday season here. My friend and colleague, Elenor, and I have been decorating the school for about two weeks. This is our last week before going home, so maybe we get to enjoy the finished project on the last day. Being here for Christmas has really been great. I do go home for the actual day, but this season has been surrounded by friends I want to keep forever. They make me laugh, talk to me when I cry, make me laugh again, give me rides home, take the complaining I lay out, smile when I sing to them, and they do not get annoyed when I say for the gazillion-th time that I want to be like Carrie Underwood. So after pizzas and wines. Cookies and champagnes. Operas and toasts. Jokes and funny faces, I would like to show you a video of the people in Italy who have made it special. Ti Amo Amichi!
So it's that time. The time for making New Year's resolutions, making a conscious choice to be better. This just so happens to be one of my favorite things to do, and I have to admit, and I probably the world's best keeper of resolutions. Due to resolutions, I have been a vegetarian for 5 years, ran many more miles than I would have otherwise, been a yogi student for four years, ate extremely healthy, taken language learning and teaching rather seriously, and been a much kinder person. (Also one of the best gift givers on the planet, if I can say so myself.)
Now, since it is once again that special time to decide what I must do to be better, I must review this year. I have to admit, I am pretty proud of 2013. It has been my year.
I have graduated university, with a degree with something I am pretty good at.
I have moved to another country.
I have a job in my field.
I have learned a bit (small as it may be) of Italian.
I have travelled to hmmm...8 countries on two continents so far.
I have decided to stop being a coward. Which may be my favorite of the year. And also leads me to my next year resolutions.
1. I will be a vegan again. Last January I became vegan, and decided not to be when I came to Italy in May. Here we go again. I must be vegan. The only thing stopping me is Italian cheese, and pizza. Let's move on.
2. I have a guitar, and just bought another one. Time to take it up. Last time I did I quit because it hurt my fingers. If I start Jan 1st, nothing can stop me. Except maybe customs, when I bring the guitar back.
3. More running. Nuff said.
4. Food journal. I had one before, for about a year. Time to take it up again.
5. Karaoke Sundays.
6. Back to grad school.
Now if y'all think I totally skipped Christmas for the excitement of New Year's think again. Let me take in a couple more festivities here in Italy, and post will surely follow. Not to mention Christmas back home with family and friends. Now I must go watch CMA Country Christmas to complete my spirit and relax this Sunday. Ciao ciao!
So let's just be honest. Redheads are sometimes known as being a little passionate or crazy. This may be because we are. Although I have tried to dye my hair, (asking in Italian for blonde but getting brown because their concept of blonde is screwed by the amount of dark hair here,) and my hair has rather quickly faded back to red. You can't cover it up, and I think it has something to do with the personality that comes with it.
Today I went to the bank to send my money to America. I will be arriving in a few days and need to have cash when I get there, not to mention to pay off my rather large credit card bill. As I told the lady what to do with my money she refused, along the lines as since you are not an Italian with an account here, but a foreigner we cannot do this for you. I instantly begin to cry, because that is what redheads do. (These are the same bankers that asked me, having German citizenship, if Germany was part of the EU. Umm...yes, yes it is.)
After arriving at work 2 hours early...I expected to be at the bank for a while...I wrote an email to my mommy expressing my redheaded on fire concerns. The title of this email was, "I HATE Italy." I went on to say how the Italian banking systems are for morons.
After I few hours I realized what a feisty child I had been. I do not hate Italy. They do have good coffee, cute scooters, marvelous monuments, fantastic wine, wonderful fashion, and I somehow think the perfume smells better here. I think my joy for going to for the holidays has become a unjustified disdain for my current country. Yes, I come home in a week. Yes, I have many Italian Christmas gifts. Yes, I will watch the National Lampoon's Christmas vacation tonight. Yes, country Christmas songs have been playing in my head. Yes, sometimes I am an irrational redhead you takes a setback for yelling and crying, and cursing and screaming in foreign languages, but hey, I have an excuse.
After three days of unreliable Pisa bus lines which have led to, walking to work, complaining without stopping, Being driven to work, missing my morning coffee, waiting for 40 minutes, giving mean looks, and possibly saying some qualified curse words.
Due to this lack of respect for people that live 4kilometers from work, I am missing home more and more. I cannot wait for Christmas to arrive, to hear country music on the radio, and to see family face to face.
Now, I do happen to have many Italian students reading this blog. Please do not be offended by the fact that I am missing home. As Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz, "There's no place like home."
I also want to introduce everyone to what my family's culture is. Before moving to Italy, I did not think my family had much of a culture, but after spending so much time away, I realize the hard working, free spirit, buck hunting, plaid wearing, truck driving, stew eating, twang talking people have a culture that I very much fit into. I want to show this video, if English is not your first language please note the one in plaid represents my family. The one with a beard is Babbo Natale (Santa Claus)
I am becoming more and more proud of the touch of twang I was raised with. Although Italy is what I have and want in my life right now, no way can I forget the roots.
This past weekend I was able to see an opera for the first time. In Italian, I saw my very first Italian opera. I wore a red dress to be like Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman', I had box seats similar to what the rich get. I wore six inch heels. And I enjoyed this first.
Tosca, what can I say. Well, the female lead was horrible, but I am pretty critical of female singers. Unless I get goose bumps, I am usually not a fan. (Small thank you to Whitney Housten, Adele, and Carrie Underwood for giving me goose bumps.) The male lead, on the other hand was quite spectacular.
Is opera my new taste in music? No. Although I did understand a lot, and it made me what to study my Italian much more, this is still not what floats my boat. I need music with a little more resemblance to home, actual life, a slight amount of passion, a tasteful amount of sorrow, and hey, guess what...on New Years I will be in the capital of this music. Yes! For New Years I decided to go to Nashville. The hotel is booked, and now I have to control my excitement.
This blog is two birds with one stone! It is my birthday, and also the birthday of my mother. She is very special to me.
This is the first birthday in which we are not together. (Tear.) Our tradition has gone from breakfast, to lunch, to dinner, back to breakfast, and now to Skype.
So glad we share this special day. We are two unique birds for sure.
I love you MOMMY!!!! Happy Birthday, and I will see you in 22 days.
I must admit. My heart belongs to Spain. My birthday gift to myself (yes I reward myself for aging...gracefully) was a trip to Madrid.
I cannot explain how happy I am to be in a place that is eternally sunny, has the happiest people, dances with passion, and puts fruit in their wine.
After taking Spanish in university, I still chose to move to Italy. What was I thinking. However, I do get some weekend trips in to the great country that reminds me of the American West, yet has everything I love about Europe. And a Starbucks!!!!
Yes, I did visit a bullring though I am completely against bull fighting. I ate in the Museo de Jamon, though I have been a vegetarian for 5 years. I saw flamenco twice and I still want more. I ate churros con chocolate every morning. I enjoyed walking in a crowd.
Sometimes Italian get on my nerves. I mean, you walk down the street, and they never move over to give you room. They just slam into you. They whistle at you when you walk through a square, (which I used to be flattered by and now just annoys me.) They eat pasta and pizza everyday. And they think that is healthy. Yes, sometimes Italians drive me crazy.
But sometimes, Italians make me love them. They offer to buy me coffee often. I have never been bought coffee more than here, and that's saying a lot. Sure the fact that a cappuccino from the local café is $1 and the soy salted caramel Frappuccino from Starbuck is $4.50, may make a bit of a difference, but I am shocked how often I get a free coffee.
Sometimes Italians buy me lunch. Score.
Sometimes Italians give you an automatic sense of intimacy, as if you have known them for years, not just 6 months.
Sure sometimes they get frustrated when I can understand what they are saying. But sometimes they are patient with me, and encourage me to learn.
Sometimes, still I crave a Soy Vanilla Chai Latte with a double shot of Espresso in the classic cup with the green lady. But sometimes I am content with being in Italy.
On that note, tomorrow I head to Spain. Hey, I said SOMETIMES.
If anyone knows me, they may realize how discontent I get. This always helps me strive for better, but often makes me unable to enjoy the present. That is my current situation.
I am scheduled to go to Spain on Friday, and as much as I love Spain, I am already thinking of my next trip...the one where I go home to the people I miss for two weeks.
I keep forgetting that my trip back to the US is a return flight. After two weeks, I come back here to Italy to live the life I made for myself. And this slightly gives me pause. I am already past living in Italy. I am now onto what I must do for a Master's degree, what will I do after my Master's degree, will I be able to move away from home again. This time in the US, but will I.
My mind is not focused on the present, and it often makes me miserable. I dream of one day being able to play guitar, yet don't take the time to practice (my current excuse is that I do not have a guitar here in Italy.)
Why cannot I not just enjoy right now. As I went to breakfast with my roomie today, I tried to enjoy my cappuccino, and morning dessert, but really my mind is at least two years down the road, in a career that I have worked towards.
News flash to me: I am living in Italy! Instead of forgetting where I am, dreaming of being in America, or thinking past the finger hurting practice, I need to be present. Says Yogi Tea.
8. When cheese has melted put mixture onto plate of polenta.
9. Eat.
Polenta is not a favorite meal on mine for sure. It is very heavy. It makes you feel horrible about yourself after you finish it, (especially if you weigh yourself afterwards.) But this is a very Italian meal. So it is up to you to choose.
Because none of the recipes I provide on here are healthy and I so desperately want to get in shape, I am also going to provide my weekly workout plan for your use.
1. Run for a half hour 3 days a week.
2. Yoga every morning before calming yourself with a cup of tea.
3. Gym workout of core and legs 3 days a week. (This includes three different types of crunches, inner and outer thigh resistance exercises, and leg press.
I say Italian, you tell me what you think of. Ready...
Italian: (time to think here)
Let me guess, a red Vespa, the streets of Rome, Pizza. Yeah, I have completed two out of three. That's right everyone, I managed to ride a Vespa.
I usually walk home from work everyday, even when it is dark, and after being egged. I am slightly paranoid to venture these four kilometers everyday, so I openly tell my coworkers. The other night, after leaving the front door in the dark to venture on, I was asked by my new found friend, Alex if I wanted a ride...on his Vespa. Um yes, yes I do. I grabbed the helmut from the back, and hopped on. It wasn't exactly as easy as hopping on because my pants were really tight, but you get the idea.
After making it very clear how freaked out I was we slowly travelled to my home. I say slowly with a bit of reluctance. We were pretty much standing still, which I greatly appreciate as I desperately clutched onto the coat of the man in front of me. (Hint: motorcycles very much scare me, but scooters are a load of fun.)
Because I enjoyed this experience so much, I have to say to all my Italian friends, if you would like to give me a ride home from work on your scooter when it's dark and I am paranoid, I will let you.
Seriously, could my life be anymore of an Italian dream. I just rode a Vespa through the streets of Pisa. (O.K. so the guy was my Canadian friend, and the vespa may have been off brand, but you get the picture.)
I recently was able to go with my roommate to the other side of Italy to visit with her family for the holiday of Tutti Santi.
Tutti Santi is a holiday similar to Halloween except, here in Italy, people are sad, there is no candy, no playing tricks, it is completely religious, and no one dresses up. So, I suppose it really doesn't have anything in common with Halloween.
Supposed to be the holiday people travel to cemeteries to remember loved ones people lost, it has become just a national holiday where people get a day off. So for my three day weekend I headed to Ancona to spend time with my roomies family.
Let's just say it was a treat. Not having a couch at my current apartment I realize how much I miss relaxing in front of the TV. I miss my dog, and my cat being around Ari's. And after spending much needed time in a home with a family, I began to really miss my own. Longing to be home over a holiday I don't celebrate in a country people would die to visit. Yup, that about sums it up.
I have decided what the problem with stupid people is. They must outwardly show their stupidity. If they were stupid, yet only in their heads, the world would actually be a better place. However, the case is not so. They are without a doubt, the problem of the planet.
Let me break in down for you. They say things like, "Peanut butter will make you fat," while you are eating peanut butter. Or maybe they continually ask your advice on something you obviously have no clue about, (and apparently they don't either.) "My doctor says my cat is fat and can only eat twice a day. But he is hungry. What should I do?" I am sorry, I am saving the world at the moment and cannot deal with this issue (?)
Now before you think I spend on my time thinking of stupid people, let me make things clear, my time is way to valuable for this. I came to this realization while walking home from work. After a long day, in heels, I walked the 40 minute walk home (that actually takes and hour in heels). When I was almost to my street an idiot rolled down their window and flung an egg at me. I was shocked, in pain, and disgustingly covered in egg. I, at first, did not know what had happened. I assumed the wine bottle gift a student gave me broke in my arms. It was painful, so I thought I was bleeding. As I looked down to see the wine bottle still intact, I noticed the disgusting yoke I was covered in. (Note: I was vegan before moving to Italy.)
Some nice ladies passed and called the police. They then said in Italian how stupid this was. Then it hit me. Yes, these were stupid people.
I came home to wonderful roommates, and met Arianna's mother for the first time covered in egg. Everyone assured me egg-throwing is not an Italian pastime, just something stupid people do.
So for my conclusion, I have learned there are stupid people in every country on every continent.
When coming to Italy, I never dreamed I would land myself in Tibet. Yet, I somehow managed to do so. Ok, so not exactly Tibet, but a Tibet ran Buddhist monastery. Having hipsters for friends, and being a bit of one myself, we decided to roadtrip it to southern Tuscany to see the world renowned monastery.
We knew we arrived when we saw hundreds of prayer flags hanging from the trees. These colorful pieces of fabric decked out with words of a prayer does not exactly feel Italian.
We explored the area, finding tombs of monks in togas, a prayer wheel (which we were sure to spin), a temple, a tea garden, prayer rocks, many images of Buddha, and shoes left outside.
It was a neat experience that I have to admit felt less holy and more peaceful. I don't think I will make Buddhism my religion, but I will practice some of the wonderful routines such as yoga, nonviolence towards animals, the drinking of tea, and the eating of tofu. Yum. Om.
Learning a foreign language is no easy task. However, in my five months here, although I am far from knowing anything, really, I have discovered a few ways to help me understand.
1. Speak to children. They tend to speak slower and have less vocabulary, so it is easier to understand them.
2. Read children's books. I am on 4 year old books now. I understand about 80% of what I read. Hey, I am better than a three year old.
3. Drink. I have found I think I understand more with a bit of wine. This may or may not be true.
4. Nod and laugh when others in the conversation do so. They will assume you understand. If they are speaking about you, they will assume you have a good sense of humor. Either way you win.
5. Squint your eyes. Just as this helps you see abstract art with better understanding, learning a foreign language is easier when you squint. (Special note: if you also tilt your head, as a dog does, you understand almost everything.)
So, for all my friends back in the states still in university, if you take a foreign language, follow my tips. You are sure fire to be overconfident in your abilities.
I really have a great family. Good for laughs, support, and advice. I am thankful my family was able to visit. Having such special people in my life is really a gift from God. My brother I can always count on to understand me, (during my not so blonde moments,) my mother and I share more than a birthday, my father and I are alike to the core. Ti Amo.
I decided to make a video to complete the tale of their European vacation. I will see them again in a few months, so until we meet again, just remember I will love you long after you're Gone.
Special note: This was my daddy's first taste of Italian espresso, our illegal feeding of the pigeons of Venice, and one of the many tunnels we found along the way. Enjoy.
We must return to the roots. Either the cause of the problem, or the hero in the perfection. My father is German, and so we went.
I have to admit, Germany is not on the top of my list for places to visit in Europe. Well, it wasn't, but that has changed.
We hopped in a car and made our five and half hour trip to Innsbruck, Austria. Roadtrips for my daddy and I are exciting. For my mom and brother it is just five and a half hours of trip on the road. I begin jumping up in down the day before the trip when I was told we would leave at four. Yes, my kind of trip! I was slightly disappointed when we didn't actually leave until six.
The entire way up to the great Alps I was thrilled. Then I actually saw them, and I was stunned. If I can make this understandable to anyone who has not been there, think Sound of Music meets Polar Express meets Cinderella meets Honey I Shrunk the Kids.
These small portions on the world, make you feel so small. Like something is bigger and better and will last longer. Closer to God in the Alps is a feeling I am sure many people have experienced when their breath is taken away here.
We finally reached Innsbruck, and as much as they complained about the roads in Italy, they complained more in Austria. Kind of made me proud of my Italy. We ate, then felt full. I think Italian food is more my style.
Being in the city of Innsbruck is what I think of when I think Europe. It encourages me to stay for longer than a year. I love the cafes on every street, the attention paid to details on buildings, the nature well protected and beauty that is unmistakably Europeans.
I even bought a few classics of Germany in German, to add to my collection of classic literature in it's original language. Being here made me want to study language, and live in different cultures within five hours of one another.
After the long trip, my mom and brother were exhausted. They decided to relax at the hotel, while my dad and I took the town. And we did. It was interesting to see how similar my dad and I are, not to mention how similar my mom and brother are.
We then hoped back in the car to make our way to my peak, Neuschwanstein castle. Now please note the whole way up here I was singing Cinderella aloud, which may or may not have got on my family's nerves. For you to really get the spirit of our trip you must listen.
Although my dad did prefer his German yodel music. I am not what we would call a fan.
I am really happy my family got to experience this. Even more happy I was able to see them after four months away.
I am shocked at how much I loved Germany. It really felt like I belong in Europe. I am extremely happy to have come here this year. I don't know what is in my future, but for my present I live in Europe. This is what I want in my life.
But, let's get one thing straight, I belong to Italy now. Although I appreciate the common amenities Germany offers that is similar to that of America. And in particular my German ruled home with my parents, I really belong to Italy. I was happy to cross back into the border and hear Italian music on the radio. The little Italian I do know is much more than the no German I don't. I was thrilled when the GPS started to say, "enter round-about. Italy feels like home.
My parents and brother have arrived. First stop--Venice. We traveled across the great Italian land. We drove in an American sized car on Italian sized roads. Yes, daddy, if you ask the car rental for the biggest car they have, they will laugh at you.
After checking into an apartment owned by gypsies, that didn't have heat, we made our way to a magical land. In pouring rain we spend hours exploring the roads made of water, buildings made of marble, and masks made of gold. Venice has become my favorite city of Italy.
If you have ever read the darkness of Poe, you realize the mystery required for any good romance. If you have every read Oscar Wilde you realize the dangerous infatuation one may have with beauty. And if you have ever been to Venice, you understand completely why this is a necessary emotion.
I have heard terrible things about Venice smelling, being crazy expensive and not worth it. Things are, in my opinion that is the closet thing to fact I know...untrue. Venice is spectacular. Go in the rain, and see the gondoliers working to get the water out of the boat for those high paying customers. Listening to the symphony of music played inside Piazza San Marco. Illegally feed the birds, and get landed on by hundreds.
Although I thought my family being here would make me miss home and long to be back in West Virginia, it has actually had the opposite effect. As they experience culture shock, the food, the shops, the traffic, the schedule, I fit into Italy quite nicely. Maybe I am meant to be European. Maybe this is supposed to be my home. Maybe even longer than a year.
I am going to admit what no one does. Usually because they are too good to do so. Since I know I am not, here goes:
I am slightly, (ok, completely) obsessed with what people think of me. To an extreme that leads to low self esteem, crash dieting, and changing my major at uni a whopping 8 times.
Ok, now let me explain. I am a bit paranoid. I often think people speak poorly of me, just loud enough for me to hear. No, I don't want you to start singing *You're so vain...* I even have a bit of a phobia that my friends, don't really like my character. So like any decent human being, I change myself to fit exactly to their specifications. I have a strong fear that people won't like me.
Now before I get all woe is me, to the point. I have realized, while living away from the people that love me, (but I think maybe not,) I have a ton of support from pretty fantastic people.
I have been here just over 4 months. I have had two visitors. I will get three more in about 36hours. I have a friend who has already scheduled a flight to visit next year. I get emails and facebook likes often. I have over 3000 views of this blog. I genuinely think these people may like me. I am gaining a bit of much needed confidence just because people want to see me. (If anyone says it is because people want to see Italy and use me as an excuse, I will cut you out of my life all together.)
I am sure to the readers who do not know me well, my recent posts have been a bit of a drag. Learning about who I am is not quite as interesting as hearing about where I go, so I promise, my next post will be about an adventure. I am going on one this weekend. To Venice. So....stay tuned.
Lately, I have been mourning my losses. All that I have lost since moving to Italy seems to be great. So I have decided to count all my gains, (which after about three pages, completely outnumbers the negative.)
To celebrate my gains, I called for an adventure. I haven't been on an adventure since Greece, so it is time. One month overdue. I asked my friend and roommate, Arianna, to come/begged her because she has a car, and we were off. The mini alps of Italy...Garfagnana.
We, of course, road tripped it with an array of music to sing to loudly. Experienced 5 different villages, one fantastic monastery, and countless fantastic views. Add to this one horrible dinner, and one spectacular lunch and you get our weekend.
After watching the show Nashville, I now want to write songs about all my ups and downs here. So many. I just have to remind myself, I live in ITALY. I am learning Italian. I have had visitors, and in two weeks get three more to experience their vacation of a lifetime! Italia e bene. Molto bene.
