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. :)

The bicycles

The bus never ceases to amaze me! It would be a perfect place to perform a study on mankind in the 21st century. But another fascinating means of transportation is the bicycle.

For pedestrians:
If you are walking on one side of the sidewalk and want to go to the other side, you have to look over your shoulder as if you were changing lanes in a car because there might be a bike coming up behind you. I learned this the hard way. :/ However bike/pedestrian collisions are rare because every bike has a bell that the rider will ding to let you know that they are coming up behind you. It reminds me so much of skiing when you are going down the mountain and someone behind you says "On your left/right". I think skiers should all just get bells on their polls. ;)

For the rider:
I have only ridden a bike once here in Bologna. I don't think I will do it again. The problems: 1) the breaks weren't the best 2) I had a 50 pound purse that was just too awkward to put on one side or another or on the handle bars and it would throw off my balance and hit my knees as I peddled 3) It was freezing cold outside so I had my coat and gloves on and felt like the boy in A Christmas story who couldn't put his arms down. With these challenges, I started my journey. The good news is, I made it there and back without killing myself or anyone else, but I did crash into a few inanimate objects. The worst one was when a car pulled into a driveway. I saw it coming in plenty of time, but my breaks didn't adjust soon enough. So I had to decide between riding into the car or riding into the front steps of a building. I chose the latter, which was the right choice, it just had to be in front of several people watching the scene.

For the buyer:
Don't buy a bike you care about because it will probably be stolen within a few months. As you walk down the street, you will hear someone say to you "bici? bici?". If you don't mind having a stolen bike, you go with them to the bike racks and point out which bike you want. The thief will then take out their lock clippers, cut the bike lock, and sell you the bike for €10. And this is normal...

Studying, kind of.

It's a rainy day here in Bologna. I'm sitting in the closest thing they have to an American coffee shop. I can already hear people saying, "What are you doing in an American coffee shop?! You should be immersing yourself in the Italian culture and going to the most Italian coffee shops that you can find." (Or maybe that's just my inner Jiminy Cricket.) Well, you don't sit and study in Italian cafés, and I can't get wifi at the University Library. It's there, I just can't figure it out (and not because I haven't asked). And it's nice to have a little bit of America every once in a while. Sometimes it's almost an overload of America, as I heard Johnny Cash's song 'How high's the water, Mama?". But here I am, trying to start writing an Italian paper that's due tomorrow. Well, kind of trying.

Another one of my favorite places to study is the Italian bookshop. They have tables and chairs and they always have the heater on! During one of my study breaks, I picked up a book called something like "Learn English Fast". I flipped to a random page that had English idioms. There's nothing like seeing your own idiomatic phrases through someone else's lenses. For example, a rough translation, "The Bee's Knees: the best. What does the knees of the bees have to do with being the best? Absolutely nothing!" Well, they have a point.

P as in Pneumonia. For anyone who hasn't seen Brian Regan's skit about this, you need to watch it right now: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-s1wYFwdD4 And if you have all day, just watch everything he does. I had a p as in pneumonia experience at the Apple Store. My computer was having difficulties, so I took it to the Apple Store here in Bologna. I speak a little Italian, and I knew some people would be able to speak English. (My Italian is getting better, but I wasn't sure I knew computer terms in Italian--they usually turn out to be the same word as it is in English, just with such a strong Italian accent that you can't understand what they are saying.) So I was talking to them in a kind of English/Italian mix. At one point, they asked for my first and last name. All my life, I have spelled my last name for people by saying B as in boy so that my last name doesn't turn out to be Toles or Doles or Coles. So that's what I said to the Apple man. But then I realized that that was probably incredibly unhelpful to a native Italian speaker, and I should have chosen an Italian word that starts with b. But of course, my mind went totally blank and I couldn't think of a single word in Italian that started with b, not even bambino (funny enough, it means boy).

And that's not the only stupid mistake I've made (imagine that). I checked out the book Jane Eyre from the library and took it home. I opened it up and found that the forward by Virginia Woolf was in Italian. I didn't know she knew Italian! But I don't usually read forwards, and especially not when they are in Italian. So I skipped ahead to the (what I thought was English) story. But wait, the story was in Italian too. What?! Oh yeah, I rented it from an Italian library, of course it's in Italian. I know, I know. In my defense, it was in the Lit section (short for literature) not the Let section (short for Leteratura).

Speaking of translating English works, I saw the Hobbit for the first time… in Italian. I'm sure it's better in English because Dwarves speaking Italian doesn't really work. And translating from Elvish to Italian to English is a little difficult.
OK, I'm really going to study now.

Ou-lo-ween

I know a lot of you are in midterm season and are therefore looking for distractions, so I thought I'd write 2 posts in one day!

The title is your pronunciation guide for how to say Halloween in Italian. Sadly, Halloween isn't really a big thing over here. But last night, I did get to carve a pumpkin!! Teaching Italian how to carve a pumpkin in ITALIAN was a little difficult for several reasons. 1. My Italian 2. There is a ton of new vocabulary 3. There are a lot of words that don't have a translation, like pumpkin patch and to carve a pumpkin. In Italian, you just say field of pumpkins and to make a pumpkin. Not quite. 

Some other random stories.

-I was not crazy when I said it wasn't clear when my classes were going to end. 2 days ago, my professor announced that class would end yesterday. When I went to class yesterday, he said that he had changed his mind and class would end Monday. I don't know what I think about that... actually I do (shout out to Sofe). Can anyone fathom that happening at UCLA? How is that ok? What if I show up to class on Monday and he decides that he wants to have class for another three years?! How was the end date not decided before the class started?! Just some food for thought. 

-In this same class, we had a day where some students come up to recite a passage from the book. And only in Italy can you not hear what the girl is saying because she's not holding the microphone to her mouth because she is too busy moving her hands. 

-Translating the translation. One of the books we are reading takes place in a land called Oceaña. My professor very nicely tells us that you pronounce the ñ like the italian gn sound. Living 2 hours from Mexico, I thought the ñ sound was more clear. :)

-And for your pointless Italian fun-fact knowledge, a lot of Italians take notes on graph paper instead of lined paper. Don't know why and I don't know why you would want to know that. 

Buon Ou-lo-ween! Happy Halloween!! 

Rome!

Last weekend, I went to Rome!! And a shout out to my wonderful friend Giselle Bertino-Clarke who was a wonderful hostess and tour guide! I saw all the sights, took a picture with the Swiss Guards, and threw a coin in the Trevi Fountain, so I'll be going back some day!
One of my favorite parts was hearing the "talk of the town". There were things like "That Swiss Guard is nice/mean" and "I saw a cute boy at mass and assumed he was a seminarian" and "Pope Francis says he moved apartments for that reason, but I think it's for this reason" and "Let's not go to St. Peter's today because it's going to be full of tourists." Rome problems (I was going to hashtag that, but I resisted.) :)
My my absolute favorite part going to St. Peter's Basilica. It is glorious, and when you walk inside, you immediately feel joy with peace! And it helps that I had the best tour guide explaining all the little details to me! Another shout out to Gizmo!
Rome is very different from Bologna. The most obvious difference is the size. Bologna is one of the biggest cities in Italy but it looks like a little village compared to Rome. I told Giselle not to worry about meeting me at the train station because I am now pro at public transportation: I've gotten around cities like Bologna, London, and Venice all by myself (with maybe a little help from google maps). But when I got out of the Rome train station, the first thing I thought was "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." (I know, very Italian.) There were rows and rows and rows of buses parked outside, several underground lines going in every direction, and tons of taxis and trams. (All we have in Bologna is a few buses and taxis.) And in typical Italian style, the maps of the public transportation weren't overwhelmingly clear.
Another major difference I noticed is that Rome is more international. Overhearing an English conversation in Bologna is rare; overhearing an English conversation in Rome is normal. Every waiter or barista I met spoke English. In Rome, you can find real brown sugar, and Halloween decorations. :) And for obvious reasons, there are a ton more tourists.
Surprisingly, a highlight of my trip was the train ride. I recently read a book (in Italian!) that took place on the train, and am feeling literarily inspired to describe every passage way, passenger, and panorama, but with a terrible start like that, I think I'll spare you. But I have to comment on the train compartments. Instead of rows of seats, the train was divided into compartments like this:  http://www.seat61.com/images/CNL-seats.jpg (I realize that this is not particular to Italian trains, but my only train experience has been in Italy.) I felt like I had waked into a movie and was just waiting for some murder to take place on the train! The outside scenery was perfectly Italian with green all around (the California girl has only seen green on the tops of palm trees...), lots of rolling hills (complete with sheep, shepherd, and sheep dog), and villas. Instead of cutting down a hill or going around it, the train would just go under it. The change of pressure would make my ears feel like they were going to burst!
I could go on and on (who me?), but there is no way to describe all the beauty of Rome in one post. Everyone just has to go!

Oct. 24

Yes, I'm going back to the boring title because I can't think of anything else. But this title happens to be significant as it is over the half-way point! While the idea of being home in 2 months makes me very happy, I'm also glad that I'm not going home in 2 weeks. It seems like I've been here forever! But I still can't speak the language, and I still have lots I want to see and do before I leave!
When my mom came, I asked her what surprised her most about Bologna. (As she is a faithful reader of my blog, I wanted to know what she noticed that I had not written about.) What struck her the most was the difference between the University part of the city, and the other parts. The University part is pretty dirty, with LOTS of graffiti, ripped advertisements, and some vagabonds (I don't really know what to call them but they are 20 somethings, some of them homeless, and all of them with dreadlocks and dogs). Then you leave that part of the city and there is the rest of beautiful Bologna: full of history, fashion, and beauty!
Some other random things:
-With an italian accent, there is no difference in the sounds of the words earth, art, and heart, or between word and world.
-I saw a car go in reverse on a one-way street. 30 minutes later, I saw another car do the same thing! I have no idea what it is about that street... but how is that ok?
-On the subject of cars, half of my roommates don't know how to drive! They wouldn't survive 2 seconds in LA.
-Speaking of driving in LA, one of my friends has a video game where you drive through LA. I think it's some sort of cops and robbers game, but we just took a virtual tour through LA- it was so good to "see" the Santa Monica Pier and the LA freeways again!
-Sometimes, especially when I'm very tired, I forget to speak in Italian. A few mornings ago, I woke up and asked my roommate, in English, what time it was. She was obviously confused and it took me a few seconds to realize what had just happened.
-Maybe this is obvious, but I was surprised to find out that most American actors have an Italian dubber that dubs all of their films. So the italians have a different idea of what Russell Crow sounds like.
-I'm not saying this is an only-in-Bologna kind of thing, but it is a not-at-UCLA kind of thing: there are hooks in every classroom to hang up your coat when you walk in. It gets so cold here that you need a place to hang up your winter jacket. -_-
-It's funny the things that you never think to be grateful for. But one thing every UCLA student should appreciate is the fact that all our lecture halls have exits that go outside. At Unibo, the lecture halls empty into the hallways. So when all the classes are let out at 10 min before the hour, it's almost impossible to get through the halls. If you have a class in the lecture hall on the 3rd floor, it can take almost 10 minutes to get out of the building!
-And another wonderful shout out to my Daddy and Grandmama! I went to the California Study Center yesterday for a class and that is where I pick up my mail. As I was walking over there, it occurred to me that there might not be any mail for me, which made me very sad. But when I walked in, there were 2 letters in my mailbox!! You guys have no idea how much it means to me. Thank you!! And Pop-pop, cigarettes behind the ear is waaayy cooler :)

What's better than Santa Clause coming to town??

My MAMA!!! Yes! For my mom's 40th birthday, she came to visit me in Bologna!! I am a very, very lucky girl! It was the best weekend in Bologna, and even one of the best weekends of my life! And it was like Christmas because she brought me hats and socks and the latest issue of the Verily magazine!! Conversazione in Sicilia has not been touched since that magazine came into my apartment. :)
The plan was for her to take a taxi from the airport to my apartment, and email me a few minutes away form my apartment so that I could come down and meet her. (I had actually planned on surprising her at the airport, but there was a bus strike--oh Bologna.)  What I didn't know was the my email inbox was full and it had been like that for a little over a day without me realizing it. So you can imagine where this story is going. I had given her my street address, but not the apartment building number. So she had no way of knowing which of the 60 apartments I was in. Let's just say my mom and the VERY NICE taxi driver became friends, in a kind of we-don't-speak-the-same-language sort of way for over 30 minutes. Did I mention this was all happening after midnight?
But after that snafu, the weekend was pretty perfect! We saw all of Bologna (it only takes a day), and she had gnocchi for the first time! Then the next morning we got up early and went to VENICE!! Touristy? Oh yes!!! For the first time here in Italy, I thought I would be better understood in English instead of in Italian. But it was so beautiful. Every time you turned a corner, there was something else that was really beautiful! There were the little canals, the street shops, the artists selling there paintings in the piazza's, the gondolas, the churches (and more churches, and more churches...). One of the best parts was walking through the street and then looking to your left and seeing the great canal on the other side of a really narrow street. Or seeing the clothes hanging out to dry between two apartment buildings. Some buildings had the rich Mediterranean colors of yellow, orange, and pink, with pretty flowers in the flower boxes and green shutters. The weather was perfect all day, and then we got into the train station and it started to rain!
The train comes every hour, and of course we missed then train we wanted to take by about 3 minutes (literally), so we had to wait another hour. But we didn't mind: we could talk just as easily in the train station as on the train. :) But only we could get so caught up in our talking (this is after talking non-stop the rest of the weekend) that we almost missed the next train and had to stand almost the whole way back because we didn't come soon enough to get a seat. Sanguines in a train station together...
By the time we got back to Bologna it started pouring rain. I had booked (or thought I had booked...) a hotel that was right next to the airport because her flight was leaving very early the next morning. We needed to cross the street to get into the taxi to take us there, but the rain was pouring so hard that we had to wait under the portico and let the rain die down a little just so we could cross the river that minutes ago had been a street. (Yes, this is an exaggeration.) But even after waiting for several minutes, we sill got soaked crossing the street! When we made it to the hotel, we were soaked. And it just goes to show that living in Europe for 2 months (can you believe I've lived in Europe for two months?!?!) doesn't not equal adult capability, as I utterly failed at booking the room. Maybe next time I should check what day I am booking a non-refundable room for. :/  But we survived, got ourselves some delicious italian food and beverages, and almost didn't make it to sleep before my mom had to get up and catch her flight.
I know this post is long, but I'm actually leaving out a lot. Mostly because they aren't stories so much as really happy moments that can't be described over a blog. I am one lucky girl!!

School days, school days, happy old school days

I am now half way through my 6 week semester here in Bologna. At least, I think it's 6 weeks. You would think I would know when my classes are going to end, but I'm not actually sure. And it's not just me-- I've asked other people in my class and they don't know. It's not just because we haven't looked at the syllabus-- I have, it's not there. It's that the University system here is very different and confusing for someone who isn't used to it.
To give you an idea, in the Lettere department, you can take a class for either 6 units, and finish the class in 6 weeks (I think), or 12 units, and finish the class in 12 weeks (I think). How is it ok to take just half a class?? I don't really know, but that's what I'm doing!
And while it's true that I might be able to find out when my classes end, I definitely can't find out when my final exams are because they haven't been scheduled yet! (Coming from UCLA where you might not be able to take a class because you know months in advance that there might be a final conflict, I have a hard time grasping this concept.) I went into a Professor's office hours to ask if I could take the final exam before Christmas. I got the vague reply that he would probably schedule something Dec 16,17, or 18., or sometime that week. There seems to be a bit of a scheduling phobia here.
Then there is the aspect of punctuality. "Quarto d'ora acacdemico" is an italian term that means class starts 15 min after it's supposed to start. So if class is scheduled for 1, we start at 1:15. And the professor might even announce this at the beginning of the term: "We are going to observe the quarto d'ora accademico".  cool.
And then there is the fact that you don't always have to attend lecture. I'm not saying lazy students can get away with not going to class, I'm saying that it literally is not obligatory. The syllabus for one of my classes says. "For students attending lecture, do xyz. For students not attending lecture, do abc." But the lecture halls have been full. I don't get it.
My favorite class is by far my class on Dante! The odd thing is we are still on Canto 1 of Inferno. Half way through the semester, and we have done 1 canto. I'm interested to see how my prof. is going to play catch up...
This is just a small glimpse into the UNIBO world. In some ways, it's nice taking a break from the everything-scheduled college system of UCLA.
Just a few more non-academic things to add.
-I don't think I've said it (and if I have, I haven't said it enough) I love prosciutto!! And I can have it ever day here! What a wonderful thing! I rarely eat ham sandwiches in American because I find our  sandwich meat so repulsive. But if you can put prosciutto in your sandwich... with a piadina instead of bread!
-A few days ago, I heard the italian version of the song "I like to move it, move it" from Madagascar. I think I like it more than the American version! And speaking of songs-- I must live in a bubble because my roommates know way more American songs and movies than I do. It's a little embarrassing.
-A huge, wonderful shout out to my Daddy, my Grandmamama, and my Wee-oh! You made my week!

These are a few of my favorite things...

SUNNY fall days. The air is crisp, but you aren't cold because you are all bundled up. And then you feel the sun on your face-- it is one of the best feelings in the world!
When my roommate makes crepes for "merenda"! (That's 6pm snack because dinner isn't until 8:30!)
When we order a meter long pizza! Actually, 2 meter long pizzas. And we still set with table with a tablecloth for this pizza dinner! And the toppings are prosciutto, arugula, and zucchini.
Dante, in italian. Yeah. I'm cool.
The new drinking song I learned. ;)
My crazy roommates!
Bacon-- FOR DINNER!! I can honestly say I have never had bacon as a dinner food, but it was served as the meat for the dinner the way you eat chicken or steak for dinner.
Playing taboo in Italian... yeah.... (For those of you who don't know, taboo is a game where you have to describe a word without using certain words to describe the word. For example, if the word was spring, you couldn't use the words fall, winter, summer, and season. It's a hard game in English. In Italian...)
When I understand an Italian conversation.
When the italians roll their own cigarettes, which is almost every time they smoke. And they smoke a lot.
When they put the cigarette behind their ear because they rolled it but aren't ready to smoke it.
When we listen to 80s Italian music!
When it's 2pm and we still haven't have lunch, but I'm not hungry yet because my stomach has finally adjusted to italian meal time.
When I find out that BOTH my grandmas read my blog!
When I get to skype with my two older siblings! I love you Ginny and John!
When I get to skype home!

The bus

I have no idea if my bus experiences are particular to Italy, because I have taken the bus only twice in America. Regardless, almost every bus trip has a new experience. There are some huge buses, which are more like a combination of two buses. But then there are some tiny buses. I went on one bus that had only 12 seats... the car I drove to high school had more than that! (Yes, I understand this is unusual.) But it was such a tiny bus by any standard. And it was old. As we drove along the cobbles streets, I thought the bus would fall apart it was shaking so much.

And then there are the times when no matter what size the bus is, there are too many people. I'm not one to insist on personal space- growing up with so many siblings, that was often a luxury we could not afford. BUT, when there is the possibility of giving a stranger their personal space, it seems like a good idea. The other day I was in a very full bus. I was standing next to a man who was standing next to the door. When the door opened, he had to move in a little closer to me, understandable. But when the doors closed, he didn't move back away from me. Ummm, hello. (No way to be sure, but I don't think he was a creep, I think it just didn't occur to move back.) The thing is, I didn't want to move to another spot because I was leaning against the back of the bus and it was so warm from the motor. :) In the end, I decided to be cold rather than have a stranger leaning up against me for no reason- I moved to a different part of the bus!

I don't mean to complain. It's true that these experiences are new and sometimes uncomfortable, but I love taking the bus.  It gives you time to think, or read, or eavesdrop on Italian conversations. Although it might seem strange, I really love taking the bus.

My first cigarette!

Just kidding. But I bet I made some of you have a little freak out. But this will be a real statement before I leave Italy... ;)

I actually have nothing to write about. I just want you all to know that I'm still alive. It has continued to rain and rain and rain. I finished the book Persuasion and so had to start reading the Divine Comedy. It's a good read, but slow, like 60 lines in two hours. That's lines, not pages.

Today I saw bus #20 (my bus) pass by me as I was walking to the stop and I sprinted to get on it. I got on right before the doors closed... such a satisfying feeling. But the good feeling only lasted for a few stops until I realized that I had to take the right bus... but going in the wrong direction. fail.

Shout out to Jordan Hart, the reason this post was written!!

Fall and San Patronio

I love fall because it means cardigans, football, and Halloween. But here in Bologna. it means none of those. Cardigans, yeah, under the sweatshirt , scarf, and coat! It's is October 5th and I've already pulled out the warmest clothes I own. I foresee wardrobe issues in the next few months. Football, highlights on ESPN, just not the same. Halloween, we'll see. But given the weather, I doubt there is much door to door anything. And yet, fall here isn't going to kill me. Last night for dinner we had tortellini in a kind of chicken broth that just warmed you up from the inside out! It does rain here (and rain and rain), but rainy days aren't so bad as long as you get to be inside reading Dante-- or you should be reading Dante but your roommate had an english version of the book Persuasion.. what are you going to do?? It's just hard when you have to go outside in the rain. It adds a whole new level of discomfort to waiting for the bus. Well, at least it hasn't started snowing... yet. :/ This Californian girl might not make it.

Last night I went to the mass of St. Patronius, the patron saint of Bologna, in San Patronio, the church that was going to be bigger than St. Peter's in Rome (see previous post), because yesterday was the feast day of St. Patronius. And the Bolognesi take their feast days seriously as everyone had the day off yesterday! The church is huge and it was packed with people- I think there are many Bolognesi that go to church for Christmas, Easter, and St. Patronuis' Day. There were over 40 priests and a beautiful choir. But the craziest part of all- only in Bologna do you see your professor at church!

How is my italian? Mucho mejor (shout out to Will!). Yeah, it's not there yet. I now have lots of italian words floating around in my head, but I don't always use them in the right way. For example, today I wanted to ask my roommates where the frying pan was. The word that came to my head was pancetta (sounds like pan, right?), so I asked them where the pancetta was. Wrong. The word is padella (close...ish), and pancetta means bacon. darn. I want to be able to communicate again!! But shout out to my awesome roommates who are so patient with my italian, or lack there of.

And one last shout out to my Grandmamama who sent me Bisquick!! Definitely one of the highlights of my time here in Bologna!! And my roommates love you! ;)

First Day of School (and more)

I finally had my last, first day of school, and, as you can imagine, it was unlike any other first day of school I've ever had.
I started class at 9am and sat through my first 2 hour lecture. I spent the first 20 minutes hoping it was the right class. Once I decided that it was, I spent the next hour and half switching off between really trying hard to listen and understand, and looking out the window, thinking about what I was going to wear tomorrow, what I wanted to be when I grow up, what would happen is the US government shut down, when I was going to go to the grocery store, etc.
After a short break, I went to my second, 2 hour lecture. This one was much better as about 1/4 of the students are exchange students; so the professor speaks fairly slowly and clearly.
Then, without any break, I went to my last 2 hour lecture. Needless to say, by the end of the day, my brain was fried. It's like doing an intense math problem all day without taking a study break. How do you think your head would feel after that?!
My last lecture was the hardest, because my professor would say things like, "A good example of this concept (which I had been desperately trying to understand) is in the book called [fill in some Italian classic that every Italian knows but no American would be expected to know]." It would be like saying to an Italian, it's just like To Kill A Mockingbird, which almost every American has read in high school, but probably no Italian has ever heard of. Interestingly, I discovered that Italians read a translated version of Robinson Crusoe in high school.
Our UC study abroad coordinator assures us that in 3 weeks, we'll be able to understand everything in the lecture. The problem is, lectures only last 6 weeks here! So what happens when the professor asks me something on the final from the first 3 weeks. "Oh, sorry prof. That's from the first 3 weeks when I was still learning italian. Can you ask me something else." (Luckily, I have both American and Italian friends in all my classes, so I think I'm going to be ok. But still...)

Some other funny things have happened. I can remember if I've blogged about this before, but I live with a group of Catholic Italian students who all live in apartments near each other. Every year at the end of September, they switch apartments and roommates to reorganize as people graduate and new students come in. So, I just switched apartments and roommates this past weekend. I miss my old roommates a lot, but my new roommates are also lots of fun. And it is hard starting all over again, getting used to new roommates, new apartment, new buses, ect. (Someone get me a tiny violin...) And because of this switch, the most embarrassing thing happened to me the other day. I live in an apartment where there are 2 sides that are exactly the same. I went to the one that I thought was my side and began to try to open the door with my key. Of course, my key didn't fit. And of course, at that moment, the guy who lived in that apartment came and asked me what I was doing. The worst part was, he wasn't a stranger: I had met him earlier that day at lunch because he is part of the same Catholic group. I obviously wanted to sink into the ground, and the only thing I could think to say in Italian was, "Where do I live?" And of course, he didn't know. The truth is, it was so awkward at the time, that it wasn't even embarrassing for me, it was just really, really funny. *cringe*

Some fun stories about my new roommates:
Italians don't eat leftovers, at least the ones that I know. Coming from a family where extra food is made precisely so that we can have leftovers, this is a very strange thing for me. But it has its benefits. My roommates were about to throw away a whole pot of delicious pasta. I begged them to let me keep it, and they finally agreed. As I was packing it for my lunch the next day, one of them asked me how I was going to heat it up and I told her I was just going to eat it cold. I was thinking that I was so lucky that I was going to have a delicious, cold, pasta salad for lunch. But instead my roommate told me that I couldn't eat cold pasta. What was I thinking?
And then there is the dinner time. My roommates and I all have dinner together every night-- this is so Italian. Dinner starts usually around 8:30 (or whenever everyone is done making their food, which is a bummer when you finished first and your food gets cold waiting for the last person) and doesn't finish until closer to 10:30. It's very different, but it can be really fun. It gives us lots of time to talk and talk and talk. They are very excited that I'm going to bake them chocolate chip cookies, pancakes, and zucchini bread (shout out to Grandmamama!). Fun fact, did you know that the word for zucchini in Italian is actually zucchinE. We also talked about Thanksgiving, and they asked me about the traditional Thanksgiving food. It was impossible to describe stuffing. It's hard enough to describe in English, considering I have never made it before, but absolutely impossible to describe it in Italian. Another funny food story is when my roommates went to McDonalds (which they call Mac) and ordered a quarter pounder. I first had to explain to them what quarter pounder meant, and then we went around the table each one trying to pronounce it correctly. After a good 20 minutes, only one of them had it, sometimes. My new roommates... :)
Happy Birthday to my dear, dear sister, Therese!!! Buon compleanno e tanti auguri! Ti amo!!

SPAIN

This post is embarrassingly late, as I left for Spain over a week ago!
I had a week off between my UC Italian class and starting my University of Bologna (UNIBO) classes.  I left Bologna, and in less than 2 hours, I arrived in Barcelona! Shout out to the best family in Europe, the Gallo Family! They sheltered me, fed me, gave me wine to drink ;), and even clothed me (if you count shopping at Zara!).
To give you the best idea of Barcelona, I'm going to start where I ended. The last thing I did was go on the top of one of the tallest buildings in Barcelona where you can see the beautiful sea on one side of the city, and small mountains on the other 3 sides. So everything in Barcelona is contained within these four walls. There is the Park Güell, the Futbol Stadium (Go Barca!), the beautiful Gothic Cathedral (a must-see!), and the Sagrada Família (by Spanish architect Gaudí), and all the apartments and villages in between. Barcelona is a wonderful city to walk around in; within 5 minutes you can walk from one little old village to another. And as you walk around the old cities, you will be sure to see several statues and mosaics of saints and the Virgin Mary. (I'm pretty sure that would be illegal in Los Angeles.) There are some modern, high-fashion, fast-paced parts of the city, and some more quiet parts that make you feel like you've stepped back in time.
Barcelona is located in the catalonian parts of the Spain. The politics of whether Catalonia will separate from Spain is very hot right now (and sometimes a touchy subject), but for a tourist, it makes things very interesting. Most things are written in Spanish, Catalan, and English, and almost everyone in Barcelona can speak all three of these languages (and sometimes also French, Italian, or German)! There are many Catalonian independence flags hanging from the beautifully designed metal balconies, which depending on where your political views lie, can be inspiring or frightening. I thought attending church in Italian was hard to understand, but mass in Catalan, all I got was the "Amen". :)
In Barcelona, everyone lives in an apartment. I asked if anyone ever considers living in a house, and I was told that usually only poor, newly-wed couples live in houses because they can't afford an apartment. It's kind of like that in America...
But since they are all in apartments, everyone is very close. Cousins gather at their grandparents house on Sundays to be together and eat delicious Spanish food. Speaking of Spanish food...
I know it's impolite to talk about food, but I have to comment on the AMAZING food: tapas, paella, croquetas, jamón, jamón, and more jamón, and the best, croquetas de jamón! Every bite was a delight to my tastebuds! But the funniest food story was when we went out to eat Mexican food: the Spaniards had a very hard time as they tried to eat their fajitas with a fork and knife! ;)
But now I'm back in Bologna and have already started school. Some good stories for another post, but I have to go to class!
But before this post ends, I need to give a shout out to the best Grandmamama in the whole world! I got your letter!! And I would imagine that a package takes a little longer to arrive, but I'll let you know when it comes. A HUGE ITALIAN KISS and GRAZIE!! And for any curious readers, let's just say zucchini bread is going to be my roommates new favorite very soon!! xo

Sept. 29

In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to set the record for the most inconsistent blogger. I think I'm succeeding. ;)
For the serious followers of my blog, I'd like to start by correcting something I said in a previous post. In one of the first posts, I wrote that only 25% of the people pay for the bus. I was completely wrong. At the time, I didn't realize you could buy a monthly or annual bus pass that you don't have to validate every time you get on the bus. I just wanted to correct my false accusation.
And now for another adventure in the grocery store. Tomorrow, I am moving into a new apartment (my mailing address will stay the same, don't worry). So as a goodbye present, I am making my roommates pancakes! (I've never made pancakes from scratch, so I hope this works out!) While I was at the grocery store, I was looking for some syrup. I was told that it would be there, but hard to find. I went up and down every aisle but couldn't find it. And it doesn't always help to guess what aisle it will be on because Italians often use ingredients in different ways. For example, the peanut butter is not next to the jelly in the Italian grocery store. ;) The problem was, I had forgotten how to say the word syrup in Italian. So finally I worked up the courage to ask a very nice looking lady. "Sai dov'è il SYRUP?" "What?" I try saying it with an Italian accent. It doesn't work. She asks me to describe it. Uuuhhhh liquid sugar... (how do you say pancakes in Italian??) per pancakes americano. ooohhhh sì pancakes! syrup! So she nicely took me to wear it was. It was on the bottom shelf of the baking aisle. They were selling about 5 bottles in the whole store!
Another interesting thing happened today. I experienced some real Italian driving. To give you an example, we were in the second to left lane. It wasn't a turn lane, but we turned anyway, right in front of the car in the left lane that was going straight! And here are two hilarious youtube clips that pretty much sum up the Italian life. Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hiR3N-P2ek4 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZ10QTIXlEA
Monday I start classes! I'm sure that will make an interesting post. But earlier today I knew it was time to start because I had to put on jeans, I smelled the smell of fallen leaves, and I walked home at 7:30 and the street lights were already on. Fall is coming!

London!!

Last post was getting too long, but this blog wouldn't be complete unless I wrote about my trip to London. That's right, I went to London! There are some moments in your life when you just remember how good life can be, and my trip to London was one of those moments.

My dad was there on a business trip, so I went to see him, and London. :) 

The traveling almost took more time than the actual visit. I left my apartment Saturday morning around 6am. Took the bus into the center of Bologna, so that I could take another bus from the center to the airport, so that I could sit in the airport until I could sit in the airplane until I could get off the airplane to sit on another bus and then take the tube (transferring lines) until I could walk to the hotel! I didn't arrive to the hotel until 2:30pm. (I'm pretty sure my dad made it faster from LA...). 

One little problem happened at the airport in London. I had to fill out a little form when I got to London and one of the questions was where I would be staying. I only knew the name of the hotel, so I wrote that down. The lady at the passport desk asked me the address and I told her that I didn't know it. She was a little bit cranky and snottily asked me how I was planning on getting there if I didn't know the address. I told her that I knew what bus to take into London and what line of the tube I needed to take and that my hotel was supposed to be right outside the exit. She clearly did not care about all this information, and only wanted me to put the address of my hotel. I told her again that I really didn't know it. In the end, she told me just to put down London and then the name of the stop I was getting off at. She was not a happy camper, but I was too excited to let it bug me.

When I got to my hotel room, my dad was still working in his office. But on the desk he had left me a map of London with all the places that I should go visit circled and a note on the desk welcoming me to London. It was such a nice surprise! I went around seeing everything including Buckingham Palace (Young Victoria!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WZ8I7xCEkg --although this scene obviously takes place in Westminster Abbey), Churchill War Bunker (if any of you go to England, you have to go here!), Big Ben (I was waiting for Ratigan to come crashing through), Statue of Boadicea (Peter Pan! 1:10 in http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnJjnh9lrPY), the rooftops of London (Mary Poppins and Bert! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnJjnh9lrPY and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4I-b_GJ4ltk), ABBEY ROAD,  St. Paul's Cathedral (feed the birds http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABc1-6o9cF0), Tower of London (also a MUST-SEE even if you aren't in for A Man for all Seasons or Lion and Winter, there's the crown jewels! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9rjGTOA2NA and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5cVwBjwRGgg), and I saw the outside of the art museum just because I've seen Skyfall! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jAdwsINfpU)

I give all these movie quote references so that some of you can laugh about how I always reference movies. But seriously. :)

The first night my dad and I ate fish and chips at an English Pub. As if that wasn't good enough, we drank British beers! And if that wasn't good enough, Michigan won the game as we were eating dinner! Life doesn't get much better!

The next morning I went to the beautiful Westminster Cathedral for mass. There was an all male choir with men and boys. Between the music and the beauty of the Cathedral, it was one of the best masses I have ever been to. (Of course it helps that it was the first English mass I had heard in a month.) 

That night, my dad had made dinner reservations at 7:30 for us and some of his friends that he wanted to introduce me to. I finished sight seeing around 6:30 and was wondering what to do for the next hour. I decided to take the tube half way home and then walk the second half to soak up the city. The problem was that when I got off the tube, it was POURING rain. I thought I'd try to tough it out. But the wind and rain were too strong. So I bought an umbrella. But the umbrella was too cheap and the wind was so strong that the umbrella kept turning inside out. So I gave up on that idea and decided to take the tube back. The problem was that I had walked a little too far to take the underground line that went directly to the restaurant. So I found the closest station and decided just to switch lines to get on the line that went to the restaurant. The thing about switching lines is that although it's in the same underground section, you sometimes have to walk a couple of underground blocks to get there. At this point, it was getting close to 7:30 and I didn't want to be late to meet my dad's friends. So I started sprinting through the underground station. People were staring at me, but I didn't care. I caught the tram right as the doors are closing, took it to my stop, mind the gap, ran out of the station, ran over to the restaurant, got to the restaurant, my phone rang, it was my dad telling me they were going to be a few minutes late. So I wait, with my shoes and hair soaked and the bottom of my white pants muddy from the rain. But the dinner was so fun that it made up for it!

And then there were all the other fun moments I had along the way that aren't stories, but just really happy moments. The last night my dad and I stayed up until 1am (which anyone who knows my dad and I knows that we don't usually stay up past 9:30, so this must have been a special occasion. hehe). It was really wonderful until I had to get up at 4am to take the cab to the station and then the train to the airport. Of course I was running a little late, and of course my terminal was the very farthest one in the whole airport. I got there just as people started boarding and when I got to lady at the desk, she told me that I needed my boarding pass to be stamped (I hate Ryan Air! No where did it say that on my boarding pass. NO WHERE!) and that I better run upstairs and get it stamped before the gate closed. AAAHHHH!! That part of the airport is packed! Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me, pardon me. I get the stamp, run back down, excuse me, pardon me. I'm the last person to check in, but I made it! Got back to Bologna and went straight to class. What a weekend! 

This post has gone on way too long, but how could it be any shorter? I just spent my weekend with my dad in London. I love studying abroad!

Where to Begin??

I apologize for my lack of correspondence, but life has been wonderfully busy! (And a little un-wonderful as I had a final presentation on Wednesday and an ORAL final tomorrow.)

But I would like to start by stating that I haven't received the flood of letters and packages that I was expecting. I don't know if I should complain to the Italian post office that they are losing my letters, or that maybe no one has... no, I'll go complain to the post office tomorrow.

But anyway, the funniest thing happened last night. Someone was asking me how to say something in English. I told her the answer and then turned to my roommate who speaks English and asked her if that was correct. She looked at me, I looked at her, and we just burst out laughing. I, the American, was asking the Italian how to say something in English. Another one of my roommates calls this time of night "l'ultimo fase" which literally means "the last phase", and translates more like the time of night when you just lose it.

Tonight, my class got to climb to the top of one of the Medieval towers in Bologna! In the Medieval times, there were over 100 towers in Bologna because rich families would build them to display their wealth and power (and we think some of the houses in CA can be over-the-top!). However, when a family lost its power and wealth, the tower would be torn down. So now there are only about 20 towers left. (In case anyone was wondering, I can say all of that in Italian because I have to; that is one of the topics of my final is on tomorrow... see, I'm studying...).
The man who owns the tower started by explaining some things about the tower. He kept saying the word "chiocciola" (pronounced key-o-cho-la) which means either snail or the @ symbol. I thought I must be misunderstanding because I couldn't think of how either of these could fit into the context of the history of the tower. It wasn't until the end of the night that someone explained to me that he was referring to the spiral staircase because it twists like the shell of the snail. Well that wasn't obvious...
We began to climb the steps. The tower is 60meters, but it's hard to tell how many meters you have climbed as you are walking up lots and lots of steps. It's like when you are going on a really tall roller-coaster and you have been hearing the click-click of the chains as the roller-coaster goes higher and higher. You fell like you must be almost at the top, but you just keep going and keep going. That's how it felt climbing the steps, they just kept going. But then, all of a sudden, you make it to the top and you take in the full view! Since it's one of the tallest things in Bologna, you can see everything! Right below you are the the red terra cotta roofs of the buildings. You can see all the little piazzas and the winding streets (which don't make any sense even with a bird's eye view). Then there are the church steeples and domes, the suburb surrounding the city center, and the hills in the distance. We arrived while it was still light, saw the sun setting (with lots of clouds that caught all the pink light), and then watched as the city grew dark and the full moon lit up the city. It was one of those moments when you think to yourself, "I am so lucky". But that's not what you really mean. Lucky is rolling doubles in a Monopoly game. It's deeper like the awe and gratitude that only the beautiful, the true, and the good can inspire. And this was really beautiful! (And a shout out to SMA!)
And then, on my bus ride home, I saw the bus driver of another bus wave to the bus driver on my bus. I don't know why that made me happy, but it did. :)

This post is getting too long, but I want to say one last thing. In italian, the way you say that you are ticklish literally translates into something like, "I suffer from the tickles". Shout out to SOFIA, I thought you might relate.

And actually one more thing. Here in Bologna, when you leave a party or a dinner, you say to the hostess "complimenti" which means "compliments" or something like, good job with the party/dinner. Is there a single word we use in English to say that?? (I'm sure I'll be receiving a flood of responses like I have with my letters... oh wait. I just have this funny thought that no one actually reads this. haha!)

AM/PM

Too much good stuff.
Where to begin?
Best for last? nah. best now. Last night, I got to ride on the back of a moto!! It was so much fun! So much fun! Driving down the little streets of Bologna on a back of a moto... life doesn't get much better. (My roommate very nicely reassured me that she had only crashed twice.) As you can imagine, I could not find the (Italian) words to express my excitement. For example, it's like a roller coaster!! Don't know how to say that in Italian... the ride in a amusement park... no can't say that either... it was fun... how expressive. The only problem is my arms are still soar from grabbing the handles on the moto so hard.
Today, all my roommates had to take final exams (don't ask, Bologna has the strangest system). So last night for dinner, they were all very tired and so decided to treat themselves to... McDonalds. really? They were so excited. But I found out last night that lemonade doesn't really exist here. :'(
And another thing I learned was that Italians don't eat eggs for breakfast. My roommates thought I was weird when I fried two eggs this morning. "But it's salty. Don't you want something sweet for breakfast?" (and I"m thinking... Dad is great! He gives us chocolate cake!). They did like the idea of pancakes for breakfast. If anyone wants to send me a good pancake recipe (or send me a box of biscuit!! That's less than $20... if you don't get this, see the earlier post! and Ghiradelli brownie mix or a good brownie recipe). But I'm pretty serious about this. :)

My address

I know you have all been holding on to your letters that you've written to me, just waiting to get my address to send them. So here it is:

Molly Boles
c/o University of California
Via Grimaldi, 3
Bologna, Italy
40122

And I'm going to have to ask you to save your packages for when I come home. There is a huge tax for anything over $20 when you send it AND when I receive it. But, if you are insistent on sending your package, you can either send something under $20 or lie about your expensive package and say that it's under $20.

Can't wait for all my mail to be flooding in!! ;)

Humility

As I have written about earlier, I thought I came here to learn Italian. Then I thought that I had come here to learn math (see earlier post). But now I'm sure what I was supposed to learn here- HUMILITY. As one of my dear friends put it- it's so humiliating to be the only one not laughing at a joke because you couldn't translate the punch line fast enough. In my case, it's a minor victory when I can figure out if it was a joke or a tragic story.
When I start telling a story in Italian, I feel like Marlin from Finding Nemo telling a joke. Everyone starts out smiling, but as my story painfully goes on because I can't remember how to say this word and that word, the smiles begin to fade and it ends with everyone staring at me and trying not to make me feel as stupid as I was.
Some of the other California students that I'm studying with have compared this study abroad experience to the first few months of freshman year: it's awkward and you are desperately trying to make friends. Or maybe more like kindergarten when you ask people if they will be your friends and the teacher speaks slowly and enthusiastically so you can understand what she is explaining to you. But I think it's closer to being a 2 year old. My parents can write in their Christmas letter, "Molly is such a big girl- she can now walk all by herself (around the streets of Bologna). And she has quite the big vocabulary with her favorite words being "non ho capito" and "non lo so".
Sometimes, I feel like Elf when he first comes to New York City: totally overwhelmed and absolutely out of place. But recently, Bologna has started to feel like a home!
Although they don't read this blog, I'd like to give a shout out to my wonderful roommates who are so patient when I ask them to repeat, and repeat SLOWLY, and so wonderful in always including me!

September 7

I amaze myself with the clever titles I give my posts. :)
This was going to be the coolest post ever because I was going to upload some pictures (because I just learned how to upload them from my camera to my computer!), but I can't figure out how to get them from my desktop to my blog. If anyone knows how, please let me know. Until then, my blogs will continue to go picture-less.
Yesterday I went to a city called Ravenna. It is best known for it's beautiful mosaics! (I wish I could show you pictures, but I think google will do a better job anyway.) It is also the city where Dante is buried. At the site of his tomb, everyone in my class read two stanzas of the first canto of Dante's Inferno. Such a cool experience. And then the views from the train ride were also really beautiful! Rolling hills in the back with vineyards closer to the train tracks and some beautiful villas here and there. It was like the drive up the 5 in California in the sense that there were farms with houses and abandoned houses, with the obvious difference that there were villas and abandoned villas, and everything was green and beautiful!
Then I came home and had a wonderful dinner with my roommates and some of their friends. And what I discovered during that dinner was not that my Italian has gotten better, but that my English has gotten worse. I couldn't remember how to say some words in English, and other words I said with an Italian accent.