Heaven's New Neighbor

This afternoon I got to go to a place I’ve never been before. It was a place nothing could go wrong, where every where I looked I saw beauty, and where I could be so at peace that nothing mattered but that time. I was somewhere that felt like the heaven’s neighbor.

Ok, I was really visiting my art history professors’ home outside of the city of Sansepolcro. I would have to say that it was beautiful beyond words. Their home, the yard, the views, and the community we all shared once everyone was gathered together almost brought me to tears. There I was with this new amazing, loving community I have become a part of in Sansepolcro, Italy. The Banker’s home has the most amazing view of the valley and the mountains, and if you haven’t noticed I am completely and totally in love with the beauty of mountains. If I wasn’t before, after this afternoon it has become official. Looking beyond the hills into the mountains of Italy brought this indescribable peace to my heart. I have come to this beautiful place, and sometimes the school work creates stress, but then I get to have community with beautiful people and even take a free dance class (which I got to do this evening) and I become filled with content.

How lucky I am to be an 18 year old (just give me a few weeks to make that 19 year old!) girl in Italy with 8 amazing girls, and professors who work as hard as I do every day to make this amazing program possible. John Rose, I’m not positive that this will count as an entry to you but I really do feel as though I learned something today. I learned that we have all created a new Meredith community here in Italy and this is a beautiful opportunity. I have already been touched by each student and staff in one way or another. Dr. Webb will continue to give her grunt each time I mess up my grammar by saying “me and someone” and not “someone and *I*.” Let me clarify that Dr. Webb has taught me much more than this in her class and out, and that every single class the conversations held have almost brought me to tears. She reminds me that this is ok because I am lucky to be here, and the things we are talking about are not “light.” John Rose will continue to worry that when I stare into the distance with a worried look on my face that I am upset about something, so I will make sure to smile more. The girls in the palazzo will continue to remind me of the wonderful community we have created, and that when December 6th comes I will have the most bittersweet feelings of my life!

Wow, I am blessed. Each and every one of us having this experience is blessed. It’s only been a month and each day I learn something about myself, this beautiful city, or just the world in general. I have never felt more so full of knowledge and insight. I have learned that I CAN run 40 minutes straight, I live in a beautiful small city in Italy, and this world is full of so much evil and madness that we never think of on a daily basis! I had to take my time to release this all. Now I pray I can release an ORGANIZED 8 to 10 page research paper by Monday! CIAO till my “next release”

im one lucky girl... who loves the mountains!

Let me begin my blog from the weekend by pointing out I have officially been here over a month. It’s hard to believe I have already been here so long, but when I think about all I have seen it seems it has been forever. I still get two months of this before I come home! How amazing it is to be in the place you know you are meant to be.

This weekend was the first of a few long weekends we get while we’re in Italy. I decided to spend mine conveniently by staying in Sansepolcro Thursday and Friday night and then in Balze on Saturday, which turned out to be a bargain. Although my budget stayed low for the weekend, all that I got to see and do was priceless. On Friday I rode to Cortona, about 45 minutes from Sansepolcro. The roads were windy but the trip was worth it because of the views we got once we were in the city. Nicole, Vi, Sam, and I, along with our friend Giacamo took a simple walk up the hills and around the town to see the beauty this city had to offer. We walked up enough hills to work up an appetite and chose a restaurant, which would come to be more formal than we imagined. Once inside we came across some other American students, who were studying art in Cortona for the semester. I started up conversation with one of the guys whose name was Nathan and he told me his brother graduated from St. Andrews. I thought “you’ve got to be joking.” I knew that he couldn’t have made this up because no one has heard of St. Andrews unless they live in Laurinburg or graduated from the school. I realized once again, it really is a small WORLD; making a Laurinburg connection in Italy, how strange. After talking with some of the students we realized that there was a girl from Meredith studying with them. Erin Campbell is studying with this group in Cortona, and we got the chance to talk to her and invite her to lunch here in Sansepolcro. I think she appreciates studying in a small town, just as all of us girls do. It makes coming home from a weekend or day trip a little more comforting. Small cities seem to have a charming way of being more welcoming. After finishing our dinner, which the waiter retrieved from the elevator to serve us, it was off to Arezzo. In Arezzo we just ended up taking a small passegata before decided to come back to Sansepolcro for the evening.

While in Arezzo, and on the return home from our trip we saw many prostitutes. I only feel I should write about this because it disturbed me enough to leave a permanent imprint on my heart. These African women lined the streets in and around Arezzo, and do so in the larger cities of Italy, such as Milan. Nicole and I learned from Giacamo that these women are often times not standing on the streets by choice, but because their lives are in danger unless they do this kind of work. I assume that pimps take these women from what they know and send them to the streets. Because police aren’t concerned about the problems of prostitution, they have come to ignore these women and they continue to do this forced work (which IS illegal in Italy.) I can’t fathom how these women must feel to be used for sex or how lonely and hurt they must feel standing on the streets of Italy each night. It is my hope that these women can escape this horrible world of prostitution, and that the people forcing them to do this work will be punished.

Turning subjects onto something more light and happy is my adventure Saturday. It was time to do some hiking, and for me missing the mountains I lived in this summer. We went to a town called Balze about 45 minutes away from Sansepolcro and tried to find some good places to hike. We first ventured down to the paths which lead us to where the Tiber River begins. It was cool to think that I was at the starting point of a river so beautiful and popular to Italy. The weather was much colder since we were in the mountains but because we were hiking we managed to be ok with the temperature. The next place we went hiking didn’t have a destination but we found a quant resort with a horse and some very cute dogs. There was beauty in a 360 degree range and I no longer felt like I was in Italy or even America, I felt like I had to be in some kind of dream. The mountains are my retreat, and I keep being reminded of that, even in a foreign country. Taking the random trail and finding all kinds of beautiful views was so peaceful for me. We returned into the town where our hotel was and after walking from the top of the town to the bottom of the town in less than 15 minutes, came to what seemed like the town’s only open restaurant. I enjoyed my fizzy white wine and pizza, and some company from friends Nicole, Vi, Giacamo and Giacamo. It was a great evening which ended sharing different Italian desserts with friends and good conversation with my friend Vi on culture and life in general. It was nice for us to talk about the cultural differences we have seen in our own communities at home, the differences between racial groups in America, and all of the differences between our culture and the American culture.

Another week of class is going to begin tomorrow, after going to Arezzo (if you haven’t learned I must go there to get to most places, or in this case to get most anything done) for our Permesso disagiorno <-couldn’t have spelled that correctly (permits to stay here as students.) I must work hard to get my term paper started before Meredith faculty and friends arrive for the opening this weekend! It’s a busy time of the semester! Ciao until next time :)

news from a week without internet!

I must vent in some way and so I am choosing to do it in a productive way by blogging! I can complain and let everyone know how I feel. The lack of convenient internet access has begun to make me crazy, but also made me realized how much I rely on an unreliable form of communication. I will always remember what Dr. Webb said about the internet, that “I knew they called it the curser for a reason.” Some days I think something out there wants to see how far I can go without completely losing it. I will not lose my mind; instead I will accept the fact that I am impatient and should not trust the internet. There are many books that I could use to type my English paper and find a topic for my art history term paper. I don’t REALLY need the internet. It is interesting to notice how frustrated I get when I don’t get the internet while writing about the limited communication during World War 2. These people were lucky when their lovers got a letter from them, but because I can’t check my Facebook or see if there is enough information on the web to write about architectural motifs in the 15th century I come close to tears. The steps we have made in communication are huge. Even though it currently requires leaning out the window, I can talk to someone using a camera and microphone, across the world for FREE. These forms of communication are gifts! I do hope my English paper turns out well, and I also hope I find a topic for my art history paper that could be done without internet, and perhaps only books. At least I would know it was possible to go without the internet if I completed my work well. (written the 22nd but getting on the blog now…)

On Wednesday we were able to go on yet another art history trip, this time to Urbino. I remind myself every trip we take how lucky I am to learn directly from a piece of work, versus staring at slides in an uncomfortable chair of some sort for way too long. Urbino was one of those places I think I will have to go back to before I go home. When we arrived we were able to sit on some beautiful steps to get our lesson from the Bankers. They make such a great pair, because their incredible knowledge fused together makes for an amazing class. We learned some architectural terms, which I was sure I should remember from Dr. Goode’s History of Architectural Furniture class. I decided that I will do my term paper on these terms, finding out which architectural motifs were used more in the 15th century than others and how they were used in the art work of that time. The Palazzo Ducale di Urbino has been turned into a museum, which is where our art trip was to. I loved how each room held certain art work and being that it was so well organized I took in all that there was to see. We saw many “Madonna and child” work as well as more of the “Annunciation” and Piero Della Francesco’s work. The bankers told us that a painting which is worth at the least, 50 million dollars done by Piero was just sitting on a chest the last time they had visited the museum. This time it was in a glass case with a sensor attached for when people like Dr. Banker got too close. What beautiful art I have gotten to see here in Italy! Now to tell you about the virtual library we saw after seeing the entire art museum. Wow, this technology made me feel like I was literally in a Harry Potter movie. You got to touch a book on the wall and it pulled it from the shelf. The pages of these ancient Hebrew written books covered the wall, and you could flip the pages with your hands. Urbino is a must return site, whether it be this trip or in my next adventure to Italy ;)

Now it’s time for the weekend. Tonight I will go to Cortona with Nicole, Sam, and Vi and we will have dinner and dancing with our the two Giacamos! Then tomorrow it is time to go to the MOUNTAINS and camp. Well, we will actually be in a cabin because it will be too cold to camp, which of course is sad for me to hear. I’ll be sharing my adventures again soon! CIAO

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

American Values vs. Italian Values

Over the past several months, I have grown and my personal values have been strengthened. I left my home of eighteen years, completed my first year of college, and spent the summer working at a camp I had never even seen, and each of these steps prompted changes in me. These experiences provided the foundation I needed to be prepared for this time away from all that is familiar to me. I thought about my values well before my arrival in Italy, but now that I am here I feel as if the time I have spent thinking about them has helped me adjust to this new place. Through the readings in Maximizing Study Abroad, I have not only been led to think about equality, time, change, and informality as cultural values, but also how they are viewed differently in the United States and Italy.
The book states that according to American values we are all equal under law. While I believe that this is true I do not feel as though people live this way. Even while I am at Meredith I haven’t always felt equal to my classmates. A friend nicely summed up Americas new obsession with money and social class one day at a presentation on equality when she said “people aren’t judged on being black, white, or brown anymore because it is now about green.” When she said this she was referring to money while trying to make a point that people are being judged on their level in society today, more so than the color of their skin. I feel we have begun to overcome racism with the first African American president, but now people look at the “green” people have to place them in society. I have also seen this while in Italy starting with a friend telling me about the “farmers” here. These are referred to as the people of the lower class that attempt to act as if they have more money and more importance in society. They are in truth of the lower class because they are making less money and have less important jobs. When it comes to equality I become ignorant because I personally think it is not where it should be, and that is at a less judgmental place than it sits right now.
The gift of time is extremely precious to me since I feel that in each moment of the day I should have a reason to be doing what I am doing. I think that the American way has forced us to value time as something precious, but in a way that hasn’t allowed us the calm “go with the flow” view that Italians seem to have. I admire the fact that most Italians take time to eat a three course lunch every day and take time for a nap. Meanwhile, people from the U.S. may or may not even make time to eat lunch and only wish they could go home for a nap. It is the way that Americans perceive time that is so different from Italians – we can’t waste a minute of the time we are given, and if we don’t take time to do something, then we are wasting time. The American perspective of time connects directly to our value of activity. I agree that Americans feel that instead of simply talking about doing something, they should really do it. This gives us the satisfaction that we are purposeful and focused on a goal. While I see Italians to be just as driven as we are, some may see their lack of activity results in simply not having a goal or idea. In reality, they are more relaxed about the things that need doing and the time needed to complete them.
While the book says that Americans can start over and move on to something else with ease, I disagree on a personal level. I recognize that many Americans are moving to new homes and getting new jobs daily, but when we are asked or forced to completely change our lifestyle we are not always pleasant about it. Changing the natural routine I put myself into throws me off completely and then I have to adjust to this new way of doing things, which then leads to frustration. I think that Italians are so into “going with the flow” that when something has to change they simply accept it while we Americans begin to stomp and shout about it.
As for the section on informality, I couldn’t disagree more. The text says that Americans give off a welcoming “come as you are tone.” While the U.S. is a very diverse nation, it isn’t always an accepting one. If I were to walk through customs behind a man with a turban on his head he would most likely get held up, while I would ease my blonde haired self past. I want to agree that we make everyone entering America feel welcome, but I believe we can’t say we are doing such either. In Italy I have been stared at, which I feel is because I am a blonde haired young woman who looks like an alien to Italians. They may see me and become curious with bitterness about why I am in their town. Americans do the same, and as some point I think everyone I know, including myself, is guilty of giving someone that same curious look.
While I don’t agree with all American values on a personal level, I do feel that many of them hold truth. Also, I want to disagree with some American values, such as time. I can’t do this though, because I have always taken time as a precious gift and I know I don’t give myself enough of a break. I believe that in my time abroad I should watch the way Italians view and value individuality, time, change, and informality so that I can continue to learn and grow in the things I value.

"I could sit here all day!"--my weekend in Siena

This weekend Lauren, Sam, and I all ventured off to Siena for the weekend. It seems to me that we picked the perfect weekend to line up this trip, see a beautiful city and stay with our new friends, Martha and Ben. Friday we boarded the bus after lunch and I adjusted myself in my seat in what I thought was the best way in order to not get motion sick on the way to Arezzo. We were off to begin our adventure and just half way through our trip to Arezzo our driver pulls over on the side of the road and gets out. Here I am thinking, oh no the bus is messing up and Martha will be waiting forever for us in Arezzo. The driver walks by my window and is smoking a cigarette, really? Our driver stopped mid route for a SMOKE BREAK. I guess it was a reminder that the Italians really aren’t concerned about time, theirs or yours. I would love to feel that same nonchalant feeling for the gift of time, but it will take remolding my entire process of functioning!
We finally arrive in Arezzo, get swept up by Martha and Ben and ride to a small town called Civitella in Val di Ciami if I remember correctly (I can guarantee my attempt as spelling it correctly is defiantly not correct). This small city, which we had the privilege of seeing only because we were riding with Martha and Ben, was the site of a war memorial. Martha told us that at the end of the war this quiet town was attacked and about 150 people were executed. I couldn’t imagine the devastation it caused in a town so small or the amount of families that were affected. I have learned that a lot of families continue to live in the city they grew up in because that is where there family is known to be from and they want to carry their name on in that same city. It was here that I once again saw the charm of a quiet small town city and remembered how great it was to be living in one during my time here.
After seeing that small town it was off to Monte San Savino which is the small town Martha and Ben live in. After arriving to their house we put our stuff in the guest house where we would be staying and turned the two twin beds into a double bed for three. To succeed in fitting 3 girls in one bed (included me and Lauren who have the world’s longest legs) we slept on the bed sideways so that it appeared we were spooning with each other each night. Samantha swears that the first night we all managed to rotate at the same time while sleeping. After seeing the most beautiful sunset I have seen since my arrival to Italy, Martha and Ben took us to a wonderful seafood restaurant in Monte San Savino for dinner. If you are confused like me than you may be surprised I said seafood, but seafood restaurants do exist here. Of course Sam, Lauren and I all opted for the pizza in the end instead of the seafood. The night was amazing and it was finally time to get some sleep, but not before our first taste of Lemoncello and a midnight question from Samantha. As we were walking out the door to go to sleep they told us to make sure that we made enough noise to scare off any animals that may have walked up. Samantha stomped all the way to the guest house, and once we were in bed safe from the wild animals she asked “are there bears in Italy.” The next morning we made sure to ask for clarification of these “wild animals”, and while there are bears in Italy there aren’t too many bears near Martha and Ben’s home.
It was Saturday and time to see Siena at last! Martha and Ben drove us right into the city and dumped us out beside an Irish pub. We walked down a few streets that we could tell we not as well known and further away from the Campo and Duomo, but with really charming and cheap stores. When we finally made it to the Campo we had to just stand and stare for a moment. The mood of the Campo was busy and energetic and our cameras came out which allowed us to fit right in with all the others. We had learned just a few minutes earlier that you should not stand still too long taking pictures or you would get pooped on. This is because Samantha (our “outdoorsy” friend) got pooped on just a few minutes before when we had stopped to take pictures of a church. So there we were, in the Campo snapping away with our cameras, and after finding the tourist office and checking back with our map we learned that this so called “Duomo” that we had to see wasn’t in the Campo and we were all sorts of confused. We began to follow the arrows and when we arrived at the Duomo we knew we had to be right this time.
I have seen many churches, but the Duomo isn’t even as big as it was originally planned to be and us three stood there speechless. All I could do was stop and stare at every part of this beautiful church. The floors, the ceiling, the columns, the arches, the frescos; it was all beautiful beyond words. I wondered how people came to services in a place so elaborately designed because I couldn’t focus on a preacher if I had to attend a service. The Duomo we saw is what was supposed to be only the Nave in for the church, but they never finished all that was planned. The fact that people line up and pay to see something that was to be only a portion of something even bigger tells you how grand it was.
Everywhere you go in Italy there is a church. I knew this before I came and feared I would get tired of going in them. Well, I haven’t gotten tired of going in them and I don’t think I will. All of them have held their own beauty and charm, and ones that are as big and beautiful as the Duomo have left me speechless. We went into the church of St. Catherine right before going to the Duomo. St. Catherine was said to have gone through stigmata (the stages Jesus went through during the resurrection). This particular church was placed on the sight of her family’s home. There were works done in the 1800s that adorned what was the family’s kitchen and showed St. Catherine’s life. In the church there was a cross with Jesus that was similar to the one I had seen in a church in Arezzo. I could connect it to a time period and an artist even though I didn’t know much about it. I thought it was interesting that there was work from many different centuries in the church. The back piece that was in the same room as the frescos from the 1800s was done in the 1500s. You must be able to analyze a piece of art to notice how an older style. It is not as easy for older pieces as it is for art work of today. In pieces from today you can easily notice a modern flair that reads like no 15th to 17th century piece of work which told its own story. Let me not attempt to get into too much detail of comparing art work until I get a little more knowledge!
Saturday turned into Saturday night, and after a successful day in Siena we attended an event similar to a pig pickin in the states in Monte San Savino. There was entire pigs laid out on the butcher’s counters and you had the option between two pigs (which they DID name.) I picked my pig and had a Panini. The difference between a pig pickin in the states and this “festival” for pigs was there was that there was no cole slaw and no barbeque sauce. Neither of these bothered me because I absolutely despise cole slaw and enjoyed my pig without any sauce, but it would have been quite nice to have an extra large sweet tea last night! To make up for my loss of a southern US treat Martha and Ben made us an amazing American (US) breakfast this morning! My plate was filled with cheesy eggs, bacon, hashbrowns with onions, and even some toast. It was an amazing way to end my weekend in Siena. We made it back to Sansepolcro and now it is time for me to piece together the many stories in Italy’s Sorrow, study art history, and make it to the Ballestra!! Ciao Ciao <3

once a small town girl, always a small town girl

Since our arrival in Sansepolcro I have had the chance to go on beautiful Sunday afternoon bike rides under the Tuscan sun(really!), go on early morning jogs when the temperature is just right, and walk with John Rose learning about all of Sansepolcro’s small town charm. We have even been here long enough to wonder why the heck we would hear any English on the streets of Sansepolcro, so when we do our heads quickly turn to see who is in OUR town. This place begins to become like home each day with each new thing I learn, or each new place I discover. There is a church right down the street from the Palazzo Alberti (also known as my home!) that is from the 9th or 10th century, and as if that wasn’t beautiful enough inside was a beautiful oil painting of the “Deposition of Christ” which holds enough significance of Christ’s death in the first five seconds you are looking at it to just make you speechless. After seeing this I hear that ¾ of the world’s art is in Italy. Again, I just thank God that I am in that same place with that same ¾ of the world’s art.

Today when I went out into the city after Italian for the market in my running shorts and t-shirt and quickly remembered this seems to be unacceptable to the Italian culture. Everyone leaves their homes dressed to a tee whether it be going to the market or out for passagata each night. When I sit at the CafeK with my Italy Sorrow book I get distracted by all the people walking by because you can learn so much just from people watching. There are so many grandparents pushing their children and sometimes families going for a stroll at times my parents would still be working. It makes me wonder how these peoples work days work when they have to fit in a three course lunch and nap in the middle, and we as Americans are lucky to fit in a burger from a fast food restaurant. While people watching today over my amazing cup of cioccolato caldo (hot chocolate) I see some people walk by me more than once. As I try to shove Italian history in my head these people have time to walk circles around me. They take the gift of time in a way I only wish I could. I can barely do one thing without thinking about what is coming next. This slow pace is really making me learn that I need to take a moment to breathe in the midst of classes and traveling. If I want to learn from classes and traveling I have got to have a moment to think about it. That desired slow pace may come from always being a small town girl. I always lived in a slow paced town but my mind and heart worked in a way that was anything opposite of slow.

Although I am looked at as a stranger by some I have made friends easily in this town. Soon enough we will all be figuring out ways we can meet up to see one another every week. There is Sara and Miro from the Gellateria, Nicole’s friend Giacomo and his friend also named Giacomo (we like to refer to his as Giacomo due) that we have spent time with, and Guilia who is Giacomo due’s friend that we now talk to! They are all so sweet, and I even got to use my Spanish from high school and freshman year with my new friend Cassandra. We were all hanging out on the main road over the weekend and I hear Cassandra say “come se llamas” and think I am in ITALY. I look at her and we laugh hysterically, but it is so weird too because she knows barely any English and I know only a bit of Italian after my brief time here. It is good to know that I am not only making friends with the girls in the Palazzo but with people in the town.

I could probably write all night about all the things I have seen and thought, but instead I better get to the new and excited Italy Sorrow book for Dr.Webb’s class... I must say it sure best Degrands Italian Fascism! Ciao, <3

highs and lows and Italy so far! :)

I wrote this for class and while I am hoping it is what Dr.Webb wanted I also hope you enjoy. Thought I might as well share! Lots of grace, love and peace to all <3

The day before I left for Italy I had an uncountable number of feelings running through me, but excitement seemed to overwhelm them all. I took this as a blessing because I thought that it was a perfect feeling to have so that I wouldn’t get upset leaving everyone. I can’t count the number of times that I said to myself “am I really here” and I have been here less than two weeks. Since our arrival I have felt many highs and a few lows, mostly because of all the work we have!
I am choosing to make a large physical adjustment because not only do I not have a car, but I would love to lose some weight. This led me to my first big purchase which was my bike. I have been so happy that I bought it and after only having it a few weeks I already feel I got my money worth. Sunday when we rode through town on a perfect day I became overwhelmed with joy at how lucky I was to be in this place. Seeing people happy and walking around the town and just going out with a few girls from the house has allowed me simple joy. Choosing to run with Nicole and walk with John Rose so I can enjoy an extra serving of pasta is well worth the pain it puts my ankles and thighs in, because it makes me see this beautiful place and feel good about myself. It is hard to be away from all the people at home and while I could choose to make missing people a low I don’t. This is because I know that they are all in my heart and I can think of them constantly and just be happy they will be there when I return. I feel like that feeling comes with knowing you are in the right place and I can honestly say that I feel like I am in the right place. Although no one here speaks like I do or even knows who I am I feel so comfortable. I have been yelled at by an old Italian man at my first experience at the pool and while I could chose to be bitter about him I just tell myself he taught me you DO have to pay for those comfortable chairs you lay out in.
All in all I have so far made new friends, from Meredith and Sansepolcro, learned how much I really do love the people back home, and learned a whole lot about Italy and its history too! I hope I don’t reach a major low but if I keep a positive attitude about my classes and all the work they hold, and manage my work then this semester is going to be nothing short of the best experience of my life.

dont forget to pack some Jesus... cant pack dance though :(

Last night I got to go get dinner with Nicole and Sam and we got into conversation about our church's back home. Of course it got intense as we began to talk about our faith communities and as we continued to talk we all realized that there we were in a new amazing faith community. It was hard leaving my home and my Vintage21 and my community group because sometimes that is what keeps you going. We all reminded each other that God was everywhere and that if we had our faith nothing was going to change that. How beautiful is our lord?! :)
Today is was off to Anghiari and Arezzo for the day. Anghiari is this beautiful town up on a mountain will a wall around it and they had the cutest shops. I fell in love with the small cafe that sat at the edge of town and gave a view straight from Under the Tuscan Sun. One of many moments i am reminded how lucky I am! While in Anghiari i saw a sign for dance classes and then as the day went on i began to notice them everywhere. Was someone trying to send a message?! I mean its not like i dont miss dance enough already. So where I am helplessly reading signs in Italian about amazing dance classes of all sorts. I must find one soon or there is potential for losing my mind. Regardless of the dance signs jumping in my face upon my arrival to Arezzo I had a great time wandering around the antique market and managing to buy a few things (I did say I wanted a new bag). The day was beautiful and all though my legs are still screaming from my run with Nicole yesterday, they are excited for the next adventure tomorrow to Perugia! Ciao amici e la famiglia <3

"this is so much better than slides"

So I have reached the fact that you I am happier than ever to be in this beautiful place and the ones that I love are always in your heart so I can’t be sad and miss them. This amazing semester is going to fly by. I guess I will have to be ok with not getting naps like every other Italian and just spend it learning about Italian Fascism and all the beauty of art in Italy, or perhaps ill spend the extra hours of sleep I could get at night learning Italian from Nicole or Giacomo (if I’m ready to embarrass myself) over a glass of wine (this is vino ).

Tonight was one of those nights of learning Italian out of class. We met Giacomo and I felt like every time we talked about anything there I would go with “Como si dici” and fill in with the word we had just said in English. This helped me learn: shop, worried, clothes, doughnut, end, laugh, boring, night, try, strange, friend and fine. I find that pretty good for one glass of wine and some very good company of friends! I got to even teach Ciara something I knew in Italian. As we learned how to multiply in Italian (as if I don’t struggle with math enough) I taught HER that by using you’re 10 fingers you can find multiplications with multiples of 9, well up to 9!

Oh and about those slides. Well they don’t exist in the art history class here in Italy. We just get to travel and be RIGHT there, in front of the art. There was the Museo Civico, Sansepolcro first. There I learned that because of art restoration they can literally take a fresco from the wall and move it. When they do this they separate it from the stucco wall where they have sketched out in red charcoal the fresco. They do the fresco in sections using Plaster of Paris, giving them three hours to finish a section. Art restoration is a God send because then people SUCH AS (like was there John Rose) me can see these century old works. When we arrived at the Chiesa Di San Francesco I saw work by the father of Alberti who is connected right here to where I am living. As if seeing all of these things in person wasn’t enough, I wasn’t even ready for what was next. Our teacher and lovely helper Sara asked her father to let us in the church and he carried us under the large sanctuary and showed us the BODY of Beato Ranieri. Yes, I got to see the body of a man who preformed over one hundred miracles for the people of his time and even after.

I feel blessed beyond words today, and as the pattern for my writing so late develops, tired beyond words also! So ciao amicis (friends ) until the next beautiful adventure <3

Who knew...

Today was the first morning walk with John Rose and also what felt like the longest day of class so far, but who knew that this small city could hold so much history. I began the day banging the top of the small alarm clock beside my face which screams at me for the day to begin. I must remind myself that screaming alarm allows me to get up and open the windows of my room down to the main road of a beautiful Italian city in which case I can’t complain that I must start my day because it’s another day in this beautiful place. I throw on some clothes to make me look more American than my blonde haired self already does so I can make the walk. We came to the place where Meredith students used to stay and although I enjoyed the views and charm of the beautiful garden, I am reminded that I am currently being treated like a princess in this palazzo. As the walk continues we make it to the Casa Della Buitoni where I learned was Nestles’ international headquarters. A house that beautiful to make chocolate in? Sounds amazing to me. I feel like I find out all sorts of things that happened in this city every day, and a lot of times it’s just sitting around talking with people. Today Sara did tell us a lot about how Sansepolcro grew and became a city. I mean imagine a few men coming here in 1500 or so and creating a city. The Italians have this clever way of building up cities it seems. I mean not only do they have four entrances whose names make sense of the cities they face (like the entrances named after Florence and Rome) but when they built a building over an arch into the city they built around that history and left the arch alone. Although I have never been the biggest fan for history I can honestly said that learning about the beautiful city and country I get to live in these next 3 months makes me really appreciate where I am. I took a bike ride around the city with Nicole after the day full of class to breathe in the beautiful air of Sansepolcro before heading back to the palazzo to have cheese crackers and salami for dinner—also known as pure bliss  The beginning processes of planning weekends, some long and some shorter, surely has gotten me excited. It also stops me from wanting to cry about the papers I have to write and the fear I have of writing them. At least I can say I am truly in a place where I am excited to be learning. Its past my bedtime… Buona notte!