In the last week...

I haven’t been able to write since Siena. This is because of the slight madness I have felt with classes and homework, but also our internet has been anything but convenient the past week. I am currently stealing “Alice’s” internet so that I can get out all I want to say and focus on my English paper (which of course I’m terrified to begin.) Last weekend after returning from Siena I had the chance to attend the Ballestra, Sansepolcro’s most important event of the year. It is a cross bow competition held every year in September. The participants dress up in medieval outfits, which include colorful shirts and tights. Seeing these “macho men” in bright colored shirts and tights confused my normal perception of a strong man shooting his gun (or arrow) in camouflage. While these men were all very skilled, it took a few moments before I could take this competition seriously. I am used to dancers in pink tights and leotards or colorguard members in one-piece unitards, not men shooting cross bows in tights. Once the competition began I was impressed by how many men hit directly on the target. I was sure there would only be around ten arrows that hit the target, but with the exception of just a couple they all hit the middle. After the cross bow competition came the flag throwers. Anyone who knows me is aware that I myself spun flags for six years before starting college, so when these men arrived in the palazzo I was shocked. I didn’t want to underestimate what these men could do, but because of my experience I couldn’t help myself. I was quite impressed that these men (who were also in brightly colored wool shirts and tights) could toss the flag like they did. It showed that they really took time to prepare for this event. The big difference between their flag spinning and the spinning I have done is that we usually are dancing around a bit more. The Ballestra brought with it another chance for me to analyze a cultural difference, this time for something I have experience doing.
Now I get to reflect back on all I learned and saw recently. I guess Dr. Webb’s class last week is important to mention, seeing as how the conversation got so intense my eyes began to produce tears (as they are known for doing over the simplest things.) The conversation in our class has been about WWII in Italy, which I have learned involved many more countries. While I did attend 13 years of school previous to this class, I felt like I hadn’t learned a thing because I didn’t know so many of the things we talked about. I am glad to be learning how many countries were involved in the war, and although it is hard to imagine the reality of the war it is something we should do. No one ever told me growing up that Americans, Poles, Brazilians, South Africans, Moroccans, Indians, and New Zealanders were all involved in WWII. That is just referring to countries on the American and British side. I have to begin my paper on a topic relating to our reading about the war and I think my heart has led me to write about the brutal effects the war had on everyone. I couldn’t imagine watching people I loved dying in front of my eyes or seeing someone hung in a palazzo. Our class discussion reminded me that although the Second World War is over, there is still one going on everyday in Iraq and Afghanistan. Although I am in Italy and not the US for the semester, my ignorance for all the violence happening today is still present. The people of WWII woke up fearing their lives, but because we don’t literally see the violence outside of our windows, we don’t think of it. I am thankful I don’t have to witness such horrible things but at the same time it is important to remember there are people fighting for, and losing their lives for our country every day.
Switching topics to a cultural view of things, I will now tell you about observations from a weekend in the big city of Florence. I had to point out it was the BIG city of Florence because most of my observations were comparing Florence to Sansepolcro, or small towns. The first disappointment came after an American encounter in H&M. There were these two girls in line with way too many clothes in their hands complaining about train tickets. I quickly became annoyed because anyone who could afford the amount of clothes in their hands should not be complaining. Being American, they complained loud enough for me to hear and want to leave the store, and a few minutes later when they came out of the store I saw one of them had an Auburn shirt on. For me, it explained everything but that is only because I am an Alabama football fan! I really am not quite sure why so many Americans complain, when many of us are very lucky. The encounters I had with Americans in Florence again reminded me that I am happy to be living in a small town like Sansepolcro. When Sam, Vi, and I went to the market on Saturday I was quick to notice the number of vendors that said “Hello” versus “Ciao” or “you are American, I will give you good price.” These people frustrated me so much that I didn’t think twice at looking what they were selling and continued on my way. Why is it that so many people in Florence catered to “us Americans?” I don’t think that many people in the US notice where someone is from and begin to speak in their language. Their desire to cater to me disgusted me, and this is why I insisted on speaking (or trying my best to speak) Italian to the people I came in contact with that day, because this is their country and they shouldn’t feel they need to talk to us in English.
No worries, Florence left me feeling more than just frustration. I was very happy to be there, see its beauty and do some shopping. I went to the Accademia and again felt like an idiot upon discovering that Michelangelo’s David is the David from David and Goliath. The things you continue to learn at the age of 18! I also had my first taste of Asian/Thai cuisine right here in Italy. We discovered a very nice restaurant away from the center of town with less Americans, and the food was great. The moment in which I hated being camera-less came when we walked across the Ponte Vecchio after dinner. The cities lights bouncing off the water of the river begged for cute photos. Thanks to Sam and Vi, I will still get to remember the moment! It’s good to be back in Sansepolcro for a while and hopefully I can stay focused over the next few days and produce a good paper for English. My love to everyone at home and far away! Ciao Ciao <3