Time to Say Goodbye.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_0i7Arjep4
This song is sad in English, but it's actually a beautiful love song in Italian.
These last fews days have been full and wonderful! Wednesday night, my roommates surprised me (and I mean really surprised me) with a going away party. We ate and drank and sang songs; and as I looked around the room and saw 20 or 30 of my Italian friends, I realized how lucky I was to have such good friends, even if there always was that language barrier. :) My roommates won't ever read this, but I still want to give them a shout out for being so wonderful these past few months.
And then I had to say goodbye to my other Italian friends and my American friends. It was harder than I thought it was going to be- I really loved the friends I made in Bologna!
My flight took off this morning at 6:30am which means I had to leave my apartment around 4am. But I didn't have to say goodbye to my roommates the night before. They just stayed up with me all night and invited some friends over and we made homemade tortellini until 4am when my taxi came. You can't ask for a better "last night" than that!!
But my international experiences didn't end there. On my airplane ride from Bologna to Munich I ended up sitting next to someone from France and the common language was... Italian!!
I'm now sitting in the Munich airport waiting for my flight back to the USA! My last day in Bologna didn't even feel like my last day; it didn't hit me yesterday and it still really hasn't it me today. But maybe that's just the lack of sleep. :)
Well fellow travelers, our time in Italy has come to an end. 4 months in Italy.
Thank you to all who sent letters and post cards, it meant the world to me! And I can't wait to see most of you in the next few days!
It's been the best or times and the worst of times. I know I'm going to miss Italy a lot and will want to come back again, but now, there's no place like home for the holidays!
Buon Natale tutti!!! Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!

Forlì

My last weekend in Italy I spent in Forlì! Isn't that where everyone would spend their last weekend?! Maybe it's not the most common choice, but I wouldn't trade my last weekend for anything. I got to stay with an Italian family and one of my best friends from Bologna. And they were so gracious and loving and wanted me to feel so much at home that they even offered me peanut butter to put on my toast!!
Forlì has Roman roots, but became famous during the time of fascism because that was Mussolini's home town. For this reason there are lots of "modern" buildings from the '40s. But there are still the older, beautiful churches and piazzas. One of the steeples of one of the churches was bombed during World War II and was rebuilt afterwards, but a little disproportionately bigger than the rest of the church. And my friend told me that her great-grandmother was in a church when it was bombed and was the only person in the church to survive! She was buried under the rubble for 3 days!
We meant to study, because both of us had tests this week, but we usually ended up talking ever time we tried to study. There are worse things. At least, I thought so until I got back to Bologna Sunday afternoon and realized how much studying I would have to do in less than 24 hours.
So I planted myself in the coffee shop and just started plowing through my work. It was a coffee shop I was working in, but at one point, the guy sitting next to left for a few minutes and came back with a beer he got at the bar next door. Can you imagine someone carrying in a beer into Starbucks?! Only in Italy...
1 coffee and 2 teas later, I was still in the coffee shop and still trying to get through all my notes. I was getting tired and felt like I couldn't keep going much more, until the coffee shop starting playing the soundtrack to Muppet's Christmas!! Random, yes. But just what I needed.
Today I finished my last Italian final! It feels like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders! I feel like William Wallace "FFFRRRRREEEEEEDDDDOOOMMMM!!!!" (or as I heard my roommates quote it once, "Liberta!" Not quite the same...). I'm sure it's going to be something I can laugh about one day, but right now my finals don't seem very funny. They were just hard and stressful. To give you an idea: ORAL and ITALIAN. But like I said, I'm done!! Now I can enjoy the rest of my time here stress-free!

Milan, dahling

The first weekend of December, I planned to drive up to Milan with some of my Italian friends. A friend of mine told me we were leaving Giovedí at 3pm. She later sent me a facebook message with this information so I wouldn't forget. Anyway, it's not like I was going to forget my trip to Milan.

Thursday afternoon came around and I was studying in the library. One of my Italian friends calls me around 3:30. "Are you coming?" Pause. "Where?" Pause. "To Milan." Pause. "ohmygosh. I always get confused between Giovedí (Thursday) and Venerdí (Friday)." Yeah, practically fluent; I don't even know my days of the week!  

I hadn't even packed my bags and it takes at least an hour round trip to go to my apartment and back and we had plans to do things the first night. We decided that they should go ahead without me and that one girl who was originally going to take the train later that evening would take my spot in the car and I would take her train ticket. That was great, except the train was leaving in 90minutes.

The gods were with me. I sprinted to the bus stop, and the bus and I got there at the exact same time so I didn't even have to wait for the bus. I just threw my stuff in the suitcase (I knew I would be wearing my purple jacket all weekend, so what does it matter what I wear underneath, right?) and took the bus to the center. In the center, I met up with a friend because we were both taking another bus to the train station (about 15 minutes). We waited, and the bus didn't come. We waited some more, and the bus still didn't come. We switch off between looking at our watch and looking down the street hoping to see the bus come. Finally my friends says that she thinks her dad might be in the area and so she calls him to please take us to the station. Luckily, he was really close, he picks us up, and speeds over to the station. We run to our platform, and get there just in time! 

The rest of the trip went beautifully. Milan is huge and more international than the other cities I have been to in Italy. A lot of my Italian friends were saying that Milan wasn't even worth seeing for these reasons. But no matter anyone says, the Duomo is amazing! Except for St. Peter's Basilica, I have never seen a more impressive church. Even though it's so big, there is still a lot of detail in the small things. Then there is also the galleria with all the fancy shops. (Joy, you would be in heaven!) And then almost as an afterthought, our friend who was actually from Milan took us to the castle. A CASTLE!!! How is that an afterthought?! :)

The drive home was much more peaceful than the ride over and I discovered an interesting thing at the gas station. First of all, there are long lines for the gas. (We know what that means- price ceilings! 8) But the price of gas here is so high that there must be something else going on as well.) Then there is someone who pumps your gas for you. I was thinking how nice this was that no one has to get out of the car in the bitter cold to pump the gas, until one of my friends told my to put on my jacket because we were all getting out. What?! Apparently, many Italians get out of their cars while the gas in being pumped in case of dangerous fumes. At first I thought it was my Italian, but I asked them to repeat it 3 times and this is in fact what they said. Not only did I think the danger of poisonous fumes was worth the sure death of freezing outside, but I've also always loved the smell of gasoline (and I like the smell of permanent markers-- yes, I realize I've lost a lot of brain cells in the process). Maybe Italy has different gas, or maybe they just value their brain cells more, but we all got out of the car. 

One Misty Moisty Morning

Except that it's not just one, and it's not only in the morning! The mist here has been really thick and there are some days when it doesn't lift. There are sometimes when I can only see a few lampposts ahead of me. It can be a little bit creepy when you get off the bus late at night. It kind of feels like you belong in a murder mystery, and then it seems even creeper. An Italian murder mystery... why does my apartment suddenly seem so far away from the bus stop. Actually, I kind of like the mist!
Dear reader, I have gone back and forth, but I have decided that a post dedicated to the weather is not excessive.
It is cold.
I know, I've seen the facebook posts about how people from Southern California are wimps about cold weather. Fine, I'm a wimp, but it's still cold. I took a screen shot of my computer when the weather said it was -1 degrees. (Ok, that was in Celsius, not Fahrenheit, but it's still cold.)
At the beginning of the semester, the California Study Center had a room of old clothes that past California students had left behind. I took this purplish jacket that was a little big and totally shapeless thinking that I would never actually wear anything that ugly, but it was nice to have it just in case. Come on, I brought my peacoat, I'll be fine! For the past month, I have not stopped wearing that purple coat.
And I have also been reduced to wearing socks with my flats and on the coldest occasions, I have to wear my sneaker shoes. I have even put tights under my jeans!
One night I went out to a concert and had to figure out how to look nice and warm at the same time-- how does one do that?
At the apartment, I often choose to stand or sit on the heater unit things... I don't know what they're called. Before dinner, I stand next to the stove top and warm my hands over the boiling water. And at night, I go to bed wearing socks and a sweatshirt! Tiny Tim, I feel you-- I know what it's like to be cold.
I didn't realize I had to bring my ski gear to survive in Bologna. Which brings me to another point, I now know why skiing exists! (You discover lots of wonderful things while studying abroad.) I think every true Southern Californian has asked himself why we all think it's a good idea to leave our homes and go spend some time where it is, by definition, wet and freezing cold. We have to bundle up so that we can't put our arms down and we experience Jack Frost nipping at our nose, and sometimes it feels more like he's gnawing it off. I now have an answer to this question. When the weather is already like this at your home, why not make it fun by putting on a pair of skis. But here in Bologna, we have these weather conditions, but without the skis. Walking to class in this weather just doesn't give you the same rush.
Someone please remind me of this post when I consider applying to jobs outside of SoCal.

Sicilia

I could live in Sicily. It is a little slice of heaven. I went for a long weekend to Trapani and Palermo with 5 other girls who were also California exchange students.
I knew it was going to be a good weekend when the first thing I saw when we got off the plane was a shepherd with his sheep and sheepdog. I didn't even know shepherds existed anymore! Then we took the bus to our Bed and Breakfast, which was less than a two minute walk from the Sea. Trapani is a peninsula on west side of Sicily and it is so thin that you can walk from one side to the other in only a few minutes. We spent the first day just walking around and enjoying the beautiful scenery. And I touched the Mediterranean Sea!! The weather was too cold to go swimming, but it was still 30 degrees warmer than the weather in Bologna.
The next day we took a ferry boat to an island about 20 minutes away from Trapani called Favignana. It's a pretty small island and you get the impression that the whole island knows each other. (According to wikipedia, 14 square miles with less than 5,000 people. Actually the history of the island is fascinating-if you want to read about it, you've got security clearance http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Favignana ) After a delicious Italian lunch, we decided to climb the only mountain on the island because at the top there looked like there was an abandoned castle!
After about a two hour hike, we made it to the top. We were the only ones up there and the wind was blowing hard. We poked our heads inside and it was dark and lots of debris on the ground (shout out to Thomas-- 'throw debris'). And all of a sudden, what moments ago had seemed like a great adventure seemed very scary. A village dog had come up the mountain with us (despite the number of times I tried to make him leave us alone) and when he entered the fort, he howled and turned to leave. That didn't make us feel any more confident. Actually, most of the girls turned around to leave (they said that dogs can sense supernatural forces-- I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks). I wanted to follow them, but I knew I couldn't leave without exploring the fort. All I could think of was: What would be scarier- a dead body or a live body? And this was the kind of place where there could have been both! It was only 3 in the afternoon, but clouds had covered the sun so it seemed all the darker and scarier. But I had to see it. I went in. It's an old building and the floor-plan isn't exactly systematic, which made it more confusing and scary. But after I had safely survived two rooms, the other girls (and the dog) decided to follow.
What we saw was amazing! In some of the first rooms there were old beds (did this used to be where they sent the infectiously diseased Sicilians? Were we going to catch it?). But as we kept going, we saw lots of old (it looked like around the time of WW2) military radio equipment. And so many rooms were filled with this kind of stuff. (Wikipedia says that this is still an active military fort and is closed to the public. False. But on another website I read that this was the site of a fort that was built in 800s and rebuilt in the 1400s. Again, I think this history is fascinating- even more than that of the island. This page was originally in Italian, which is why the English isn't always perfect.  http://www.egadivacanze.it/favignana/castelli/il-castello-di-santa-caterina.html).
Then we made it to the top of the fort and looked around. The clouds had moved away from the sun and everything was BEAUTIFUL! You could see the whole island, the other islands around it, the shore of Trapani, and the beautiful, many-toned blue water that went on forever. It was very windy, but still warm, the sun reflected off the clouds and the water, and everything seemed just perfect! We would have liked to have stayed longer, but we didn't want to hike in the dark, so we had to go home.
The next morning it started pouring rain and we had to move our bags from one Bed & Breakfast to another (somehow that was cheaper), and it was going to be at least a 30 min walk. Trapani doesn't have the convenient porticos that Bologna has and we didn't bring our umbrellas. We were going to have to get very wet, and do it quickly because our bus was going to be leaving soon. As we were bundling up to go out, the owner walked in and with the most gracious Italian hospitality, offered to drive us in her car. Never have I been so grateful for a ride- it kept us dry and we made it on time to catch our bus to Palermo!
Palermo is about a 2 hour bus ride from Trapani, but the bus trip was almost as great as the city. The green country side, with little towns here and there, always with at least one church steeple and usually more, rolling hills covered in grape vines, and every once in a while, glimpses of the sea. Then there was the city itself. Some one had a friend of a friend who was our age and lived in Palermo and she showed us around the city all afternoon. Palermo is a big city and more open than Bologna, and like all the cities in Italy, Palermo is very old and full of history. We got there around lunch time and ate a typical Sicilian meal-- and Sicily is known for their delicious (usually deep fried) food! We ate Arancine, Caponata (among the three eggplant dishes that we ordered), and my favorite, Panelle! And then we got to the beach just as the sun was starting to set!
The weekend was perfect- well, almost. (Of course, it couldn't be too perfect- I wouldn't have a funny story for my blog.) With our RyanAir approved carry-ons (for anyone who has flown RyanAir, you know what I mean) we had to sprint to catch our 8am bus. Although I'm sure we looked hilarious, this wasn't actually the problem. The problem came when we arrived at the airport. As you can imagine, the Trapani airport is about the size of someone's house and the lines are non-existent. So I want straight up to the check-in desk and handed the lady my ticket and passport. She looked at them both a few times and I thought it was strange that the Trapani airport would be so careful about checking, especially considering on the way to Trapani the check-in lady barely glanced at either my ticket or my passport. But then I realized why: the lady told me the name on my passport wasn't the same as the name on my ticket. For those of you who don't know, my real name is Mary (which is obviously on my passport) but on my ticket was Molly (because a friend had booked the flight for me). Oh. No. If this had happend in LAX, I think I would have just sat down in despair. But I've come to appreciate small airports. The line for the help desk was, again, non-existent, and so I was immediately helped. I explained (in my best Italian) that they were both my names and that one was just a nickname and my flight was leaving soon and would it be cheaper to fix this ticket or to buy a new one? I didn't even want to think about how much they were going to make me pay and I knew I had to pay it because I had to get home. The lady told me to calm down and made a phone call. I couldn't hear what she said, but after she hung up, she made a note on my ticket and told me I could go ahead with my original ticket at no extra cost! Security might not be the tightest, but I've never been so grateful!
*I started this the weekend I got back from Sicily (11/29-12/1) but I seem to have taken a little blog vacation-- just some Italian oral finals and things like that. But I apologize to anyone who has been constantly refreshing the page for the last 15 days waiting for my post. :)

Modena

At this point, I would imagine that everyone is wondering if they are uncultured for not knowing where or what Modena is. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know until last weekend. Modena is a little city about 30 minutes northwest of Bologna. The only reason you might know it is because that is where Ferraris were originally made! I went there because an Italian friend of mine lives in a little secluded town outside of Modena called Torre Mania. This town is so small it makes Modena look like LA or New York. But it is precisely it’s seclusion that makes this town so beautiful. 

It was a rainy, cold weekend and we didn’t arrive to her house until after dark. Her house is beautiful and has been in the family since it was built 500 years ago! It’s very large but the passageways tend to be small, which makes it feel a little bit like a maze. The coolest part about this house is that there are secret hiding places in the walls and ceilings where people have hidden for the past 500, as recently as the Second World War! I spent a fun evening with her lovely and generous family, and extended family as both sets of her grandparents live with them!

The next morning we got up early and went to mass. This was the first time I saw the outside in the light and it was so beautiful! Just the way Americans like to imagine Italy! There were rolling green hills, rows of grapevines, lots of villas, and tiny little streets. 

After the mass, I got another Italian experience. Most of the extended family came over for lunch! There were cousins and aunts and uncles coming in and out all afternoon. And everyone was so welcoming and treated me like I was part of the family! Any exchange student can travel to Florence or Milan, but how many students can say they spent a weekend being part of a traditional Italian family? 

Shout out to Sofia Mireles on her 21st birthday! 

Shout out and huge thank you to Grandmamama and Riv for the letters! Thank you!!

And huge shout out to Carolina and Martha for the UCLA post card! Love y'all!! 

Dottore, dottore...

A brief side note: This is turning out to be an interesting morning. While I was still in my pajamas, a knock came at my apartment door. I am the only one at home so I had to answer it. It was 2 guys who I think said that they were here to fix something in our kitchen, at least I think that's what they said. Doesn't this sound like a beginning to some scary adventure movie? Taken, anyone? But...I let them in--only because I vaguely remember my roommates mentioning something about something needing to be fixed. And the good news is that it's not a scam, they really are fixing something in the kitchen right now.*deep breath* Why are my roommates not here for the appointment, you ask. I don't know, but I would imagine that repair men in Italy don't even give a large hour time frame when they will be coming. It's more like, ok, we'll come back to finish the job. (Well that's very helpful.) The problem now is that I've had to sign the forms and answer any questions. Language barrier... 

But now for the main slice of Italian culture. The title of this post is the beginning of the song that people sing to the graduate. It translates into something like "You have your doctorate now, but no one cares."(That's the clean translation anyway.) ;)  I have now been to three UNIBO graduations! Why am I going to graduations in November? That's a good question and one that I can't answer in one blog. But long story short, the University system is very different here and people graduate at their own pace and not as a class. And as you can imagine, the graduations here aren't like the graduations in America. It depends on what department you are in, but I will give you a quick sketch of a Literature graduation. 

Almost every month, the lit dept. chooses a day for everyone who wants to graduate in that month, and there are about 10-15 people who sign up for the graduation day.  (This isn't exactly it, but it gives you an idea). 

The terrible part of their graduation is that it's not just a ceremony. They have to defend their thesis at their graduation! (Writing a thesis is mandatory for every student.) Imagine walking into your graduation and instead of seeing blue and yellow balloons everywhere, you see 3 professors, sitting at the head of a table, wearing their robes, waiting to tear your thesis to bits.

 The thesis defense is really only about 10/15 minutes, but can you imagine having to go to your graduation with a huge pit in your stomach? Your friends and family can be there but the room is so small that it's like sardines in a can. After you finish defending, everyone leaves the room for a few minutes while the professors discuss how many points the graduate will receive for his defense (it's out of 3). When there are so many people in such a small room, it can take a while for everyone to get out. A few minutes later, they call you back and everyone tries to cram back into the room. When the graduate comes back in, the professors tell him how many points he got, his final GPA, shakes his hand and says some sort of "congrats grad". And that's it. That's the graduation. It's so short that I have yet to make it back in the room before that part is over. What about the go create world peace speech and give back to your school speech?!

After the graduation, someone puts a laurel wreath on your head with a colored ribbon that is the color for your major (literature is white). Everyone goes outside and takes a TON of pictures. Graduate with just the family, just the friends, just the girls, just the boys, just the roommates, just the people from Sicily, just the blondes, just the left-handed people... 

Then there is a reception afterwards with lots of delicious Italian food! 

There is another aspect to the graduations that I haven't experienced but I have seen other people do. After the graduation, the friends put the graduate in some costume and have them walk around the city while the friends sing the "Dottore" song. So I have seen a girl in flippers and a snorkel mask, a guy in dress, someone else dressed up as a cereal box. It's like Ow-lo-ween everyday around here. ;) It seems a little strange to me, but as it is always accompanied by Champagne, so I can imagine why they think it's so funny. 

Although I prefer a ceremony to a thesis defense for my graduation, I would love to have a laurel wreath when I graduate! I'm trying to convince my roommates to come out for my graduation and bring a laurel wreath with them! 

*Disclaimer: not all the departments defend their thesis at their graduation, but ones that do make for a better story. :)