Media consumption is such a part of everyday activity that it practically goes unnoticed in today’s society. We are more than consumed; we are bombarded, with advertising, music, celebrities, television, and magazines. So much so that advertisers say that their message or advertisement has to be good enough to “break through the clutter.” Though the irony of this is that by breaking through the “clutter” they are essentially creating more clutter! And what is the clutter? Is the clutter media or culture? Are media and culture one in the same, or are they counterparts of each other?
The haze surrounding these questions proves just how much consumption society is saturated with. Collecting research through my media consumption journal was actually a bit more difficult than I imagined for several reasons:
First, how would I define media? Should I stick to recording data solely on television, music, and internet? Or should I include data about advertisements I saw, stores I purchased from, and how frequently I used my cell phone? Although these are not necessarily considered media, they are certainly channels the media can go through. For example, texting might not necessarily be media, but what about word of mouth? In my media journal I noted that I received a text message from a friend informing me that the MTV Video Music Awards would be playing that night, something I would have otherwise completely forgotten about, so I turned on the TV and started watching it. Another difficulty I encountered was trying to remain aware of my media consumption. The media is such a part of my daily activities, especially as a communications major where I even have media consumption in class, that it was tricky having a more objective point of view and saying, “ok, I’m not just listening to music, I’m consuming media.”
Through my research I noticed that I routinely listen to music. The first thing I do every day on my way to class, and between classes, is plug myself into my iPod. “Plug myself into my iPod,” even that sentence shows how hardwired society has become with consumption—there is no longer silence to enjoy the sounds of a beautiful day, instead there is a soundtrack to a beautiful day. Another routine I noticed was that I rarely turned on the TV. If I watched TV it would be socially or because it was already on and I would get hooked with the programming. If I did turn the TV on myself it was usually as background noise because the room would be too quiet or because guests were coming over, simultaneously with music from my laptop. I prefer to watch my shows online—there’s less hassle, if any, with commercials and I can watch any show on my own schedule. Most of my media consumption is independently during the week, but on weekends a lot of it is social.
As previously stated, when friends come over my roommate and I usually have both the TV and music from our computers playing at the same time…sometimes even in the same room. Through this research I found that consumers (in this case I refer to consumers as people that consume media, not necessarily shoppers), especially those of my generation, tend to have a heightened sense of selective hearing. Both the TV and iTunes can be playing, but if the music is good or if the TV is not playing something entertaining enough, then we only pay attention to the music. But we can listen in such a way that we forget the TV is even on, even if it is loud enough to compete with the music.
One of the things I have found most interesting is that I find myself wanting to be consumed with media and pop culture. For the past couple years I avoided television, rarely listened to “popular” music, preferring “un-cool” music, and my only real sense of pop culture came from word of mouth or reading the tabloid covers while in line at the grocery store. Even on the internet, I would only visit the same sites. This year, however, I find that I have turned into a media junkie. I want to watch all the new movies; I want to watch the video music awards. I want to download the songs every one dances to while discovering “up and coming” artists, and I even click link after link to follow the buzz on various “culture objects”. This is what surprises me most about my media usage.
I am not surprised about how much media I consume because I know that, this year especially, I have been doing a lot of consumption, but rather the fact that I want to be consumed. I usually download music through various web channels, but if I buy a song or CD on iTunes it is because I like the artist enough to want to support them. It is my way of saying, “Please keep making more music,” which in a way relates to the articles and videos we have been going through in class. Although consumers are so inundated with media and products, consumers have become savvier as to what they want to purchase or be involved in, and what they want to ignore. There is a constant need for “new” because not all consumers gravitate towards the same things; therefore there are always new markets to explore.
The term "culture" can be defined as “the best of what has been said and thought.” Upon reflection, I have come to understand culture in a way that I hadn’t seen it before. Culture is deeply rooted—today’s culture is not a new culture, it is just an evolution of earlier times. It seems to me that the great cultural objects of today have been inspired by someone or something else. This only includes those objects for mass consumption, not for example the latest invention of robot technology (yet), but rather something that has completely transformed society and the way we interact, such as the creation of the internet in the early ‘90s or probably the most recent being the iPhone. Rarely do we now see a truly original idea.
I was recently watching a football game on TV with a couple friends, and instead of saying “my friends are probably going crazy about this game” or something of the sort, one of them said, “Facebook is probably blowing up right now!” In this comment he was referencing to his friends on Facebook getting really competitive and excited about the game and probably making comments about it through Facebook to other friends. Instead of living in the moment, we are constantly thinking about what another person may be saying or how we are going to blog about it with others. It is as though we have more than one life going on. Twitter is another great example of this. It is like we are trying to make things happen, trying to have a more exciting life, so we can have better “tweets” or posts. This reflects culture as a pattern of behavior.
So what does this mean? If people are creating more exciting lives for themselves in order to have a life that everyone wants to read about online, and this is a pattern of behavior influenced by media, then what has been lost? Or perhaps, instead, what has been gained? Have consumers become more artificial or have consumers become “cooler”? I have come to the conclusion that media and culture are counterparts of each other; one cannot survive without the other. However, this distinction is becoming increasingly blurred. My reflection on media consumption has not answered many questions for me, but has instead raised questions on a much more profound level, forcing me to question the world I live in and even what person I may possibly become as a media-driven consumer.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
New Adventures on the InterLife
From here on out I plan to begin new ventures-- I still want to blog, it is very therapeutic and allows my memories to stay alive for the one day I might forget. I'll admit I have a fear of forgetting the wonderful moments life has given me.
I may keep this blog for my more personal rants, and other travel experiences, but I want to start a new one for my more professional self. I'll write about design, my graphic projects, internships, jobs etc.
I also plan to be on Twitter soon. I had Twitter for about a second and I deleted it because I didn't like it, but now I'm starting to see the advantages so we'll see. After this post I'm going to check out Flickr because I have been putting that off for a while. It's not that I don't like the internet, I just prefer to live in my actual life--experiencing nature, reading books, catching up on my shows--and not my life on the internet. But inevitably, the lines between life and life on the internet have become an intersection, where your actual life is on the internet. For God's sake--my GRANDFATHER, who already uses the internet as his playground, is being cohersed into getting a Facebook page!
Unfortunately, life has come to this: if you're not on the net you do not exist.
I may keep this blog for my more personal rants, and other travel experiences, but I want to start a new one for my more professional self. I'll write about design, my graphic projects, internships, jobs etc.
I also plan to be on Twitter soon. I had Twitter for about a second and I deleted it because I didn't like it, but now I'm starting to see the advantages so we'll see. After this post I'm going to check out Flickr because I have been putting that off for a while. It's not that I don't like the internet, I just prefer to live in my actual life--experiencing nature, reading books, catching up on my shows--and not my life on the internet. But inevitably, the lines between life and life on the internet have become an intersection, where your actual life is on the internet. For God's sake--my GRANDFATHER, who already uses the internet as his playground, is being cohersed into getting a Facebook page!
Unfortunately, life has come to this: if you're not on the net you do not exist.
My Newfound Playground: Recap of my experience in Italy
I know this is about 2 months late, but I feel like this blog deserved a decent ending:
No matter what reason we have for going somewhere new—vacation, business, studies, volunteering—a little piece of our own personal world does not come back quite the same. Suddenly, consciously or unconsciously, our eyes and minds are looking at life from a new perspective. What we once recognized to be a beggar becomes a gypsy, or what we once called ice cream transforms into gelato.
By the end of my travels in Italy, I was not looking at the world through a pair of rose-colored glasses, I was looking at the world through a kaleidoscope. It was filled with colors, shapes, and details I never expected or thought of but was thrilled to find. People love to say expect the unexpected, but if something is unexpected, how can you expect it? The best thing to do is: not expect anything. Easier said than done, right? But on this trip, that is probably one of the most helpful tips I have learned. It does not set you up for disappointment, and best of all, when you do not have expectations your eyes are wide open for any possibilities.
For spring break my friend and I decided to go to southern Italy, exploring a little bit of the boot and then continuing to Sicily. The morning before leaving I had a lot to do. Sure, it was spring break, but as usual I left my responsibilities for the last minute. However, everything went smoothly and I got everything done. Then, things took a turn for the worst—I missed my train, and consequently, so did my travel partner waiting for me. So, we bought another train ticket, and after about an hour delay, we were off to Praia, a small beach town in Calabria*.
But for some reason, probably my newly gained patience, none of this seemed to bother me. I was finally going to the beach, to bask in the sun and finally not have to worry about wearing a jacket! Upon arriving, around 7 PM, we were in for our first surprise. Wind was blasting that night, comparable to a monsoon but without the rain. It was blowing so hard in fact, that we heard the wind knocked over a tow truck on the highway and fell on top of a passing car. Needless to say, I felt like I was going to be blown away!
When we arrived at the Praia train station, Martina, the owner of Onda Road Hostel, was there to pick us up. At first I had imagined an older woman, no younger than 35 at least, but when this beautiful, long haired, 20-something girl introduced herself in perfect English, after easily scoping us out from the other five people waiting, I no longer knew what to expect. We drove through town and turned onto a gravel road lined with private homes protected by barking dogs. Soon after, we stopped at one of the house’s front gate. Upon entering we were greeted by a massive, furry dog named Sylia, and we were confused to be standing in the middle of a family’s living room. It was cozily decorated with warm peach colored walls, an elegant floral print in one corner leading to the stairs, buddha paintings, and stone-textured floor tiles. Martina led us up to what she introduced as our bedroom, a private double perfectly situated next to a bathroom and her parent’s bedroom.
“There are two girls staying upstairs. Come and I’ll introduce you.” Thank goodness! We were relieved to not be the only ones staying in what felt to be an awkward situation. When we made our reservation for this hostel, we were not expecting a five star hotel, but we did expect a bed & breakfast type of place. We did not imagine that it would actually be someone’s home, but it ended up being a very positive experience despite our initial awkwardness. We saved a lot of money since we did not have to worry about food, and every day Martina would drive us around to see the local sites. Because it was low season and we were the only guests at the hostel, Martina and her family made us breakfast and lunch everyday, and we usually split dinner costs with the other two girls. It was especially beneficial for me because the two girls we met were going to be in Amsterdam the same days I was! I was originally going to be alone my first two days in the Netherlands, so I felt a little worried about being in a country I had planned very little for and where I could not speak the language. We all became good friends those three days in Praia, and unexpected vacation experiences transformed into lovely rewards.
Lack of expectations also allows you to keep an open mind. What you might have once thought to be trashy, might now feel to be artsy. For example, our second week in Rome, my girlfriends and I planned a day trip to Tivoli, a one-hour train ride from Rome. On my way to the train station, I had to transfer from line A to line B. I always used the A-line so for the 1st time I’d be taking the B-line, and I was surprised to find that the B-line is a whole other world entirely. It is a little darker and there are entire metro cars covered in graffiti, some tasteful and others not so much. I wondered how people cover BOTH sides of train? Do they sneak in at night and jump tracks? Many may think the B-line is trouble, vandalized by hoodlums, but I had a different take on it. I preferred to think of the graffiti as street art. As my friend Katie put it, it is, “ghetto fabulous.” People on B-line even dress differently. The A-line is upper east side NY—well put together, structured outfits, with stilettos—while the B-line is more Long Island—you see more colors, eccentricity, and has an 80’s hip-hop/rock edge. But, again, this depends on your perspective. Perspectives can even change regarding your style preferences.
I think one of the best ways to acclimate to a new culture, and also a great way to not get automatically pegged as a tourist (hence, to not get ripped off) is by dressing like the locals*. Although it is true that it is what’s on the inside that counts, I find that what’s on the outside counts just as much, especially in Italy, one of the world’s fashion hubs. In the beginning my friends would get weird stares as they walked to class in their sweats and t-shirts, and strange men would more frequently harass the girls when they looked obviously out of place. It is difficult to pinpoint what exactly the “American look” is, but it is obvious that this look is not made in Italy (unless accompanied by a tourist). Thus my personally style has also greatly changed. I still used all my old clothes, and of course bought some new pieces, but with lack of funds the newer purchases weren’t many. So, I had to reassemble my own.
The first thing to keep in mind is that lots of accessories and a pair of sunglasses is key. I never owned a bracelet until I lived in Italy, and now I have a collection I use almost every day. I bought a couple things from stores, but a lot of the most fun, unique things are found in markets or from street vendors*. Layering is also very popular no matter what season, and remember: black never goes out of style. One thing I learned to do, and had a lot of fun with, was mixing and matching my clothes. I’d put together pieces that I normally would have never paired, like a preppy skirt with tights, a metal-studded belt, hoop earrings, and heels. Speaking of heels, don’t try to be a hero—cobblestones are common in Rome and it seems like only Italian women are immune to them.
I love wearing heels, but I was forced to buy my first pair of sneakers in Rome. I was excited because Italian sneakers are so pimped out with patterns, colors, and textures, but I was also worried because metallics were in style this season, and I knew that that particular style was not for me…at least not for my first pair. I went to a lot of stores and found shoes I kind of liked, but I felt a lot of them were overpriced*. When I was about to give up I fell in love with a pair of orange, white and black, leopard-print glossy kicks that I could dress up or down for only 20 euros*. Putting together the “Italian look” does not have to mean a stack of bills; it just takes a little creativity and willingness to step out of your comfort zone. Do not be afraid to take because you never know how you might reinvent yourself, or how the people around you might bring about that transformation.
The final and possibly most important aspect of this trip was my encounter with religion. As a Catholic, I have always believed in God. I believed He existed and I believed that there must be some kind of greater power at work. However, I never knew what this meant or how to apply it. If anyone ever asked, yes, I believe in God. I am Catholic, right? However, only recently have I really learned what this meant.
As a child, I was never forced to go to church, and honestly I was never that interested. Sure, I knew certain stories from the Bible, and I had a somewhat broad overview of my religion. At one point in my sophomore year of high school, I started taking private bible study classes at home, feeling embarrassed for not knowing what everyone else seemingly “naturally” knew about the bible, God, and Christianity in general. From there I decided I wanted to make God a part of my life, but how?
To me, religion was always something very private; I never felt comfortable talking about it. I felt embarrassed about my ignorance, but I understood the basic gist of what being a good Christian meant, and I would occasionally pray. So, how could I, with no background, feel a strong connection with God? This was when my search for God began. I took Bible study classes and I applied to a Jesuit college, hoping to find God in a religiously affiliated institution. There, I took theology and philosophy courses, which were required but I really enjoyed. Yet none of these things helped me feel more connected. Why was my search not working? I certainly gained a little knowledge, but I felt that in order to really find God, I should feel some kind of passion within me. Shouldn’t I? It was no longer enough for me to believe for the sake of believing.
Finally I came to Rome—the Catholic hub of the world. As a student who would be spending an entire semester in a country with a foreign language, and had never been away and alone from home for more than a month, my search for God took a small pause. It remained in the back of my mind while I visited the cathedrals and churches, but I was mostly there to appreciate the art. Then, something unexpected happened: I was invited to lunch.
An old friend living in Rome invited me to lunch with, whom she likes to call, her second family. I met the lady of the house, Jane, her husband, Peppo, and their eleven-year-old daughter. I immediately felt so welcome and comfortable in a way I rarely felt at a stranger’s home. I learned that this family has a strong Christian faith, conducting bible studies at their house, and that Peppo, who was once an actor is now a missionary. We had lunch, jumped on their trampoline, talked, and watched a movie. Through this amazing family I learned that everything is possible through God. As we left their home to commute back to our own homes, I felt something I had never felt before—I felt a rush of happiness, appreciation, thankfulness, love, and the sudden urge to cry. I realized at that moment that I had finally found God. What was a fun and simple afternoon turned into a most unexpected and wonderful realization, confirming my view that everything happens for a reason. I searched for God in bible studies, I searched for God in a catholic university, I searched for Him in cathedrals and churches, but I finally found Him in people. This religious awakening has been the most personal and most influential piece of my travel experience.
My study abroad adventures in Italy have made me feel that the world could suddenly and literally become my playground. I have a greater understanding and appreciation for how the world works even though I only got a taste of a small piece of it. We can choose to change something about the world, but more often than not, the world changes us. It makes us a little stronger, a bit more self-sufficient, and if we’re lucky a bit more competent. On my three-month trip to Italy I was fortunate enough to gain all three.
No matter what reason we have for going somewhere new—vacation, business, studies, volunteering—a little piece of our own personal world does not come back quite the same. Suddenly, consciously or unconsciously, our eyes and minds are looking at life from a new perspective. What we once recognized to be a beggar becomes a gypsy, or what we once called ice cream transforms into gelato.
By the end of my travels in Italy, I was not looking at the world through a pair of rose-colored glasses, I was looking at the world through a kaleidoscope. It was filled with colors, shapes, and details I never expected or thought of but was thrilled to find. People love to say expect the unexpected, but if something is unexpected, how can you expect it? The best thing to do is: not expect anything. Easier said than done, right? But on this trip, that is probably one of the most helpful tips I have learned. It does not set you up for disappointment, and best of all, when you do not have expectations your eyes are wide open for any possibilities.
For spring break my friend and I decided to go to southern Italy, exploring a little bit of the boot and then continuing to Sicily. The morning before leaving I had a lot to do. Sure, it was spring break, but as usual I left my responsibilities for the last minute. However, everything went smoothly and I got everything done. Then, things took a turn for the worst—I missed my train, and consequently, so did my travel partner waiting for me. So, we bought another train ticket, and after about an hour delay, we were off to Praia, a small beach town in Calabria*.
But for some reason, probably my newly gained patience, none of this seemed to bother me. I was finally going to the beach, to bask in the sun and finally not have to worry about wearing a jacket! Upon arriving, around 7 PM, we were in for our first surprise. Wind was blasting that night, comparable to a monsoon but without the rain. It was blowing so hard in fact, that we heard the wind knocked over a tow truck on the highway and fell on top of a passing car. Needless to say, I felt like I was going to be blown away!
When we arrived at the Praia train station, Martina, the owner of Onda Road Hostel, was there to pick us up. At first I had imagined an older woman, no younger than 35 at least, but when this beautiful, long haired, 20-something girl introduced herself in perfect English, after easily scoping us out from the other five people waiting, I no longer knew what to expect. We drove through town and turned onto a gravel road lined with private homes protected by barking dogs. Soon after, we stopped at one of the house’s front gate. Upon entering we were greeted by a massive, furry dog named Sylia, and we were confused to be standing in the middle of a family’s living room. It was cozily decorated with warm peach colored walls, an elegant floral print in one corner leading to the stairs, buddha paintings, and stone-textured floor tiles. Martina led us up to what she introduced as our bedroom, a private double perfectly situated next to a bathroom and her parent’s bedroom.
“There are two girls staying upstairs. Come and I’ll introduce you.” Thank goodness! We were relieved to not be the only ones staying in what felt to be an awkward situation. When we made our reservation for this hostel, we were not expecting a five star hotel, but we did expect a bed & breakfast type of place. We did not imagine that it would actually be someone’s home, but it ended up being a very positive experience despite our initial awkwardness. We saved a lot of money since we did not have to worry about food, and every day Martina would drive us around to see the local sites. Because it was low season and we were the only guests at the hostel, Martina and her family made us breakfast and lunch everyday, and we usually split dinner costs with the other two girls. It was especially beneficial for me because the two girls we met were going to be in Amsterdam the same days I was! I was originally going to be alone my first two days in the Netherlands, so I felt a little worried about being in a country I had planned very little for and where I could not speak the language. We all became good friends those three days in Praia, and unexpected vacation experiences transformed into lovely rewards.
Lack of expectations also allows you to keep an open mind. What you might have once thought to be trashy, might now feel to be artsy. For example, our second week in Rome, my girlfriends and I planned a day trip to Tivoli, a one-hour train ride from Rome. On my way to the train station, I had to transfer from line A to line B. I always used the A-line so for the 1st time I’d be taking the B-line, and I was surprised to find that the B-line is a whole other world entirely. It is a little darker and there are entire metro cars covered in graffiti, some tasteful and others not so much. I wondered how people cover BOTH sides of train? Do they sneak in at night and jump tracks? Many may think the B-line is trouble, vandalized by hoodlums, but I had a different take on it. I preferred to think of the graffiti as street art. As my friend Katie put it, it is, “ghetto fabulous.” People on B-line even dress differently. The A-line is upper east side NY—well put together, structured outfits, with stilettos—while the B-line is more Long Island—you see more colors, eccentricity, and has an 80’s hip-hop/rock edge. But, again, this depends on your perspective. Perspectives can even change regarding your style preferences.
I think one of the best ways to acclimate to a new culture, and also a great way to not get automatically pegged as a tourist (hence, to not get ripped off) is by dressing like the locals*. Although it is true that it is what’s on the inside that counts, I find that what’s on the outside counts just as much, especially in Italy, one of the world’s fashion hubs. In the beginning my friends would get weird stares as they walked to class in their sweats and t-shirts, and strange men would more frequently harass the girls when they looked obviously out of place. It is difficult to pinpoint what exactly the “American look” is, but it is obvious that this look is not made in Italy (unless accompanied by a tourist). Thus my personally style has also greatly changed. I still used all my old clothes, and of course bought some new pieces, but with lack of funds the newer purchases weren’t many. So, I had to reassemble my own.
The first thing to keep in mind is that lots of accessories and a pair of sunglasses is key. I never owned a bracelet until I lived in Italy, and now I have a collection I use almost every day. I bought a couple things from stores, but a lot of the most fun, unique things are found in markets or from street vendors*. Layering is also very popular no matter what season, and remember: black never goes out of style. One thing I learned to do, and had a lot of fun with, was mixing and matching my clothes. I’d put together pieces that I normally would have never paired, like a preppy skirt with tights, a metal-studded belt, hoop earrings, and heels. Speaking of heels, don’t try to be a hero—cobblestones are common in Rome and it seems like only Italian women are immune to them.
I love wearing heels, but I was forced to buy my first pair of sneakers in Rome. I was excited because Italian sneakers are so pimped out with patterns, colors, and textures, but I was also worried because metallics were in style this season, and I knew that that particular style was not for me…at least not for my first pair. I went to a lot of stores and found shoes I kind of liked, but I felt a lot of them were overpriced*. When I was about to give up I fell in love with a pair of orange, white and black, leopard-print glossy kicks that I could dress up or down for only 20 euros*. Putting together the “Italian look” does not have to mean a stack of bills; it just takes a little creativity and willingness to step out of your comfort zone. Do not be afraid to take because you never know how you might reinvent yourself, or how the people around you might bring about that transformation.
The final and possibly most important aspect of this trip was my encounter with religion. As a Catholic, I have always believed in God. I believed He existed and I believed that there must be some kind of greater power at work. However, I never knew what this meant or how to apply it. If anyone ever asked, yes, I believe in God. I am Catholic, right? However, only recently have I really learned what this meant.
As a child, I was never forced to go to church, and honestly I was never that interested. Sure, I knew certain stories from the Bible, and I had a somewhat broad overview of my religion. At one point in my sophomore year of high school, I started taking private bible study classes at home, feeling embarrassed for not knowing what everyone else seemingly “naturally” knew about the bible, God, and Christianity in general. From there I decided I wanted to make God a part of my life, but how?
To me, religion was always something very private; I never felt comfortable talking about it. I felt embarrassed about my ignorance, but I understood the basic gist of what being a good Christian meant, and I would occasionally pray. So, how could I, with no background, feel a strong connection with God? This was when my search for God began. I took Bible study classes and I applied to a Jesuit college, hoping to find God in a religiously affiliated institution. There, I took theology and philosophy courses, which were required but I really enjoyed. Yet none of these things helped me feel more connected. Why was my search not working? I certainly gained a little knowledge, but I felt that in order to really find God, I should feel some kind of passion within me. Shouldn’t I? It was no longer enough for me to believe for the sake of believing.
Finally I came to Rome—the Catholic hub of the world. As a student who would be spending an entire semester in a country with a foreign language, and had never been away and alone from home for more than a month, my search for God took a small pause. It remained in the back of my mind while I visited the cathedrals and churches, but I was mostly there to appreciate the art. Then, something unexpected happened: I was invited to lunch.
An old friend living in Rome invited me to lunch with, whom she likes to call, her second family. I met the lady of the house, Jane, her husband, Peppo, and their eleven-year-old daughter. I immediately felt so welcome and comfortable in a way I rarely felt at a stranger’s home. I learned that this family has a strong Christian faith, conducting bible studies at their house, and that Peppo, who was once an actor is now a missionary. We had lunch, jumped on their trampoline, talked, and watched a movie. Through this amazing family I learned that everything is possible through God. As we left their home to commute back to our own homes, I felt something I had never felt before—I felt a rush of happiness, appreciation, thankfulness, love, and the sudden urge to cry. I realized at that moment that I had finally found God. What was a fun and simple afternoon turned into a most unexpected and wonderful realization, confirming my view that everything happens for a reason. I searched for God in bible studies, I searched for God in a catholic university, I searched for Him in cathedrals and churches, but I finally found Him in people. This religious awakening has been the most personal and most influential piece of my travel experience.
My study abroad adventures in Italy have made me feel that the world could suddenly and literally become my playground. I have a greater understanding and appreciation for how the world works even though I only got a taste of a small piece of it. We can choose to change something about the world, but more often than not, the world changes us. It makes us a little stronger, a bit more self-sufficient, and if we’re lucky a bit more competent. On my three-month trip to Italy I was fortunate enough to gain all three.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Trains on a Boat
Me: “This is taking forever. I hope we get there on the scheduled time.”
Katie: “Well, this is included in the time.”
Me: “Why aren’t we moving?!”
Katie: “We are on a boat.”
Me: “When are we going to start moving?”
Katie: “We are!”
Me: “Oh...” (confused face)
Katie: “That is why we are rocking!”
So that was the conversation Katie and I had during the moment that I was completely oblivious to the fact that our train, including another, had embarked itself on a boat. There are two entire trains on a boat! I had no idea how or when this happend...I hadn’t even fallen asleep. So, when Katie told me this bit of mind boggling information, the affect that took over me, as mind boggling information usually does, was I did not know how I felt about it. Should I be more worried on an airplane than I should be about being on a train and simultaneously on a boat? We are on our way to Sicily and I knew we would eventually have to cross over a small piece of ocean, but I thought there would be a bridge or something...note to self: never doubt the “something”. The lights just went out; great.
Katie: “Well, this is included in the time.”
Me: “Why aren’t we moving?!”
Katie: “We are on a boat.”
Me: “When are we going to start moving?”
Katie: “We are!”
Me: “Oh...” (confused face)
Katie: “That is why we are rocking!”
So that was the conversation Katie and I had during the moment that I was completely oblivious to the fact that our train, including another, had embarked itself on a boat. There are two entire trains on a boat! I had no idea how or when this happend...I hadn’t even fallen asleep. So, when Katie told me this bit of mind boggling information, the affect that took over me, as mind boggling information usually does, was I did not know how I felt about it. Should I be more worried on an airplane than I should be about being on a train and simultaneously on a boat? We are on our way to Sicily and I knew we would eventually have to cross over a small piece of ocean, but I thought there would be a bridge or something...note to self: never doubt the “something”. The lights just went out; great.
Surprises in Praia
The morning before leaving I had a lot to do. Sure, it was spring break, but as usual I left my responsibilities for the last minute. However, everything went smoothly and I got everything done. Then, things took a turn for the worst—I missed my train, and consequently, so did my travel partner waiting for me. So, afer we bought another train ticket (although we later found out this was unnecessary) we were off to Praia, a small beach town in Calabria, about thirty minutes later (not including the extra thirty minute delay). But for some reason, none of this seemed to bother me. I was finally going to the beach, to bask in hte sun and finally not have to worry about wearing a jacket! Upon arriving, around 7 PM, we were in for our first surprise. Wind was blasting that night, comparable to a monsoon but without the rain. It was blowing so hard in fact, that we heard the wind knocked over a tow truck on the highway that then fell on a passing car. I hope everyone was okay. Needless to say, I felt like I was going to be blown away!
When we arrived the Praia train station, Martina, the owner of Onda Road Hostel, was there to pick us up. At first I had imagined an older woman, no younger than 35 at least, but when this beautiful, long haired, 20-something girl introduced herself in perfect English, after easily scoping us out from the other five people waiting, I no longer knew what to expect. We drove through town and turned onto a gravel road lined with private homes protected by barking dogs. Soon after we stopped at one of the house’s front gate. Upon entering we were greeted by a massive, furry dog named Sylia, and we were confused to be standing in the middle of a family’s living room. It was cosily decorated with warm peach colored walls, an elegant floral print in one corner leading to the stairs, buddha paintings, and stone textured floor tiles. Martina lead us up to our bedroom, a private double perfectly situated next to a bathroom and her parent’s bedroom.
“There are two girls staying upstairs. Come and I’ll introduce you.” Thank goodness! We were relieved to not be the only ones staying in what felt to be an awkward situation.
When we arrived the Praia train station, Martina, the owner of Onda Road Hostel, was there to pick us up. At first I had imagined an older woman, no younger than 35 at least, but when this beautiful, long haired, 20-something girl introduced herself in perfect English, after easily scoping us out from the other five people waiting, I no longer knew what to expect. We drove through town and turned onto a gravel road lined with private homes protected by barking dogs. Soon after we stopped at one of the house’s front gate. Upon entering we were greeted by a massive, furry dog named Sylia, and we were confused to be standing in the middle of a family’s living room. It was cosily decorated with warm peach colored walls, an elegant floral print in one corner leading to the stairs, buddha paintings, and stone textured floor tiles. Martina lead us up to our bedroom, a private double perfectly situated next to a bathroom and her parent’s bedroom.
“There are two girls staying upstairs. Come and I’ll introduce you.” Thank goodness! We were relieved to not be the only ones staying in what felt to be an awkward situation.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Dolce Perspective
Besides the romance of the language, the fierce fashion, and the welcoming cheek kisses, what else do we love about Italians? Yup, you probably got it right: the food! Italians are known for their heavenly cuisine, and although it may seem fattening, that is a price we are willing to pay. Although, you may be surprised as to how much healthier REAL Italian food can be. Sure, the meat takes a little getting used to, but food in Italy is so fresh, and it is certainly not contaminated with all the preservatives and dyes that American food is famous for. However, it is not just about the food. Italian cuisine is also about the culture that absorbs the meal. In order to truly appreciate Italian gastronomy in all its fresh delectibility, it is important to first learn how to eat like an Italian.
Let’s start with the basics—when to eat. Although many will tell you that Italians only eat at certain times of day, this is, in my opinion, completely false. If you are hungry, you are hungry. Who says that cultural immersion should make your stomach grumble? Our mediterranean friends do not seem to gain weight because they stick to a strict eating schedule, they probably do not gain weight simply because they eat differently from their anglo-saxon counterparts. When Italians want a snack, many opt for a fruit, which is usually still attached to the vine and can only be found in a grocery store during its actual season. It also helps that the meat was slaughtered a day before it made it to the plate, and that the Italians are not afraid of a little walking. Ok, maybe I slightly overexaggerated on the meat thing, but you get my point. So, what is the general eating schedule? First, there is breakfast, of course.
Oh, breakfast. In Italia, as in most other parts of the world, breakfast is usually from 7:00 to 10:00 A.M. Doctors are known to say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but why is it then that in this boot-shaped peninsula, breakfast does not seem to get the appropriate appreciation or delight that it deserves? Breakfast is practically non-existent, acknowledged with only a cafè (known to Americans as an espresso) with a sweet croissant, or similar bread pastry treat. Maybe Italians are more evolved than Americans and have come to terms with the fact that there is no longer time to eat it properly, as Americans still struggle to fit a healthy breakfast into their schedules. The States are loaded with Ihop’s and Denny’s to pay homage to this commonly favorite meal, either to make up for the lack of it or to relish in its goodness—bacon, eggs, OJ, toast, pancakes, syrup, grits, milk, coffee by the gallons—but in Italy none of this exists. Breakfast is down to bare minimum.
However, once in a while a lucky pedestrian may be able to find “American Breakfast Served” advertised outside of a bar or restaurant. Although I have not personally tried these specials, since I usually run into them in the evening, they seem like a decent price for the food being offered; usually bacon, eggs, toast, maybe pancakes. By the way, do not underestimate bacon because it is virtually impossible to find bacon, as we know it, in Italy. The lack of having an option for breakfast as American culture has deemed appropriate, has taken its toll. I have caught myself waking up unusually early (around 9:00 A.M.) to prepare myself a nice morning meal. Fortunately though, lunch is a bit more filling.
Pranzo, which usually includes a nice siesta on the side, is from about 13:00 to 15:00 (yes, the Italians use military time instead of A.M. or P.M., and you are lucky if you find an open convenience store during these hours). A typical lunch usually conists of a cappuccino, juice, or maybe even a wine juice box, with a panino or pizza, especially for those on-the-go or not looking to spend too much. But be careful, panini are not automatically grilled, you usually have to specify that you want the sandwich caldo, or hot. I found life-altering panini in Milan, at a cozy, Irish-pub-type restaurant called Panino Giusto, and giusto it was! They had over 50 kinds of panini, and you cannot go wrong ordering any of them. I actually would order two at once because as soon as I finished the first I immediately craved another one. Besides, there were so many options—how could I possibly choose one? Needless to say, I was there everyday during my weekend in Milan. Luckily, in 2008, the chain made a debut in Rome in the centrally located historic center. Panino Giusto also has other locations in Italy, such as Brescia and Porto Cervo, and even in non-Italian countries, like Istanbul and Tokyo. We can only hope for a couple to pop up in the U.S.!
As for the pizza, it is difficult to find bad pizza in Italy, unless you eat it at the airport. The cool thing about the pizza is that you tell the server, if it is a fast food spot, about how big you want the slice (a hand measurement will do). Then, they weigh the slice in order to give you a price, so you know you are getting exactly what you pay for. Also, resist the urge, as arduous as it may be, to request substitutions. The pizza comes as is, no questions asked. Another interesting detail is how the pizza is cut; these pizza professionals use scissors! At first, I thought it strange. But then, I realized the practicality—why break your arm trying to cut the crust when you can more easily and quickly snip through it? Many find this quite amusing. A popular local spot amongst my group is Pizza Colonna, about three doors to the left of Lepanto metro station. The twenty-something-year-olds that work there are a friendly bunch that know how to make a mean pizza, and there is always a large variety to choose from. Pizza Colonna also has blissful balls of fried goodness called suppli. This concoction holds tomato-sauced rice fortified by mozarella and engulfed by a fried crust. I am practically a suppli addict, and I am not ashamed.
This then brings us to my favorite meal of an Italian day: dinner! First, let me start by saying that whatever plans are created after dinner should be made at least three hours after the scheduled dinner time. This meal is at least a two hour event, between the hours of 20:30 to 23:00 (or 8:30 P.M. to 11:00 P.M.). Do not expect to find one Italian soul, besides the employees, in a restaurant before 9:00 P.M. eventhough restaurants usually open at eight. Also, dinner in Italy is not rushed, and it certainly does not include one plate. It is rather served in slow courses, and each accompanied with a glass of wine, so expect to order the liter jug, and do not feel guilty. The average Italian drinks about 25 gallons of wine each year.
So, to start things off, as in the States, you can always order an appetizer, or antipasti, with the options for bruschetta, chips, eggplant (very popular in Italy), etc. Typically the complimentary bread will come out with the second course, but if it should come out with or before the first, it is said that one can always pick out an American if the bread is eaten before the meal. But, like I said before: if you are hungry, you are hungry. Next, the first course is usually a pasta or even a whole pizza pie, which is not impossible to eat on your own, so do not be discouraged. The crust is made very thin and the ingredients are not heavy; there are a lot of veggie options and the four-cheese is a common favorite. The third course then consists of meat or fish. It is interesting that the meat is always seperate; it never comes accompanied with any other food. This will always be an unanswered mystery.
I asked my Italian host sister why the meat is not eaten with the pasta or rice—she looked at me blankly and simply responded that she did not know. The best meat I have had in Italy, and can be comparable to an expensive meat dish in the United States, has been in Piazza San Lorenzo at a popular spot called Porca Vacca. The beef is inexpensive, succulent, and savory. Customers can order the meat with various seasonings, but it is important to note that in most restaurants the meat is simply cooked medium, there is usually no option on how it is done. To top off the meal, but before reaching dessert, Italians will eat a salad. This may seem strange but it feels nice finishing a heavy start with something light and refreshing. Oh, and by the way, Ranch dressing is never an option, although the balsamic comes highly recommended if offered. Finally, complete your meal(s) with a palatable dessert and a coffee.
All these rules that accompany the gastronomical aspect of Italian culture may seem a bit daunting, however it is truly a lifestyle. I have been living in Italy for three months and I have grown to love it—I feel healthier, more active, and I have slowed down to actually appreciate and savor the food I eat, even when I am on the go, as though each bite is somehow different from the first. In fact, adopting some of these “eccentricities”, such as the scissor pizza-cutting or salad at the end of the meal, could begin an interesting new perspective on life. Italian dining is not simply a matter of eating good food, the culture that encircles this cuisine creates an experience for both the diner and the taste buds.
Let’s start with the basics—when to eat. Although many will tell you that Italians only eat at certain times of day, this is, in my opinion, completely false. If you are hungry, you are hungry. Who says that cultural immersion should make your stomach grumble? Our mediterranean friends do not seem to gain weight because they stick to a strict eating schedule, they probably do not gain weight simply because they eat differently from their anglo-saxon counterparts. When Italians want a snack, many opt for a fruit, which is usually still attached to the vine and can only be found in a grocery store during its actual season. It also helps that the meat was slaughtered a day before it made it to the plate, and that the Italians are not afraid of a little walking. Ok, maybe I slightly overexaggerated on the meat thing, but you get my point. So, what is the general eating schedule? First, there is breakfast, of course.
Oh, breakfast. In Italia, as in most other parts of the world, breakfast is usually from 7:00 to 10:00 A.M. Doctors are known to say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but why is it then that in this boot-shaped peninsula, breakfast does not seem to get the appropriate appreciation or delight that it deserves? Breakfast is practically non-existent, acknowledged with only a cafè (known to Americans as an espresso) with a sweet croissant, or similar bread pastry treat. Maybe Italians are more evolved than Americans and have come to terms with the fact that there is no longer time to eat it properly, as Americans still struggle to fit a healthy breakfast into their schedules. The States are loaded with Ihop’s and Denny’s to pay homage to this commonly favorite meal, either to make up for the lack of it or to relish in its goodness—bacon, eggs, OJ, toast, pancakes, syrup, grits, milk, coffee by the gallons—but in Italy none of this exists. Breakfast is down to bare minimum.
However, once in a while a lucky pedestrian may be able to find “American Breakfast Served” advertised outside of a bar or restaurant. Although I have not personally tried these specials, since I usually run into them in the evening, they seem like a decent price for the food being offered; usually bacon, eggs, toast, maybe pancakes. By the way, do not underestimate bacon because it is virtually impossible to find bacon, as we know it, in Italy. The lack of having an option for breakfast as American culture has deemed appropriate, has taken its toll. I have caught myself waking up unusually early (around 9:00 A.M.) to prepare myself a nice morning meal. Fortunately though, lunch is a bit more filling.
Pranzo, which usually includes a nice siesta on the side, is from about 13:00 to 15:00 (yes, the Italians use military time instead of A.M. or P.M., and you are lucky if you find an open convenience store during these hours). A typical lunch usually conists of a cappuccino, juice, or maybe even a wine juice box, with a panino or pizza, especially for those on-the-go or not looking to spend too much. But be careful, panini are not automatically grilled, you usually have to specify that you want the sandwich caldo, or hot. I found life-altering panini in Milan, at a cozy, Irish-pub-type restaurant called Panino Giusto, and giusto it was! They had over 50 kinds of panini, and you cannot go wrong ordering any of them. I actually would order two at once because as soon as I finished the first I immediately craved another one. Besides, there were so many options—how could I possibly choose one? Needless to say, I was there everyday during my weekend in Milan. Luckily, in 2008, the chain made a debut in Rome in the centrally located historic center. Panino Giusto also has other locations in Italy, such as Brescia and Porto Cervo, and even in non-Italian countries, like Istanbul and Tokyo. We can only hope for a couple to pop up in the U.S.!
As for the pizza, it is difficult to find bad pizza in Italy, unless you eat it at the airport. The cool thing about the pizza is that you tell the server, if it is a fast food spot, about how big you want the slice (a hand measurement will do). Then, they weigh the slice in order to give you a price, so you know you are getting exactly what you pay for. Also, resist the urge, as arduous as it may be, to request substitutions. The pizza comes as is, no questions asked. Another interesting detail is how the pizza is cut; these pizza professionals use scissors! At first, I thought it strange. But then, I realized the practicality—why break your arm trying to cut the crust when you can more easily and quickly snip through it? Many find this quite amusing. A popular local spot amongst my group is Pizza Colonna, about three doors to the left of Lepanto metro station. The twenty-something-year-olds that work there are a friendly bunch that know how to make a mean pizza, and there is always a large variety to choose from. Pizza Colonna also has blissful balls of fried goodness called suppli. This concoction holds tomato-sauced rice fortified by mozarella and engulfed by a fried crust. I am practically a suppli addict, and I am not ashamed.
This then brings us to my favorite meal of an Italian day: dinner! First, let me start by saying that whatever plans are created after dinner should be made at least three hours after the scheduled dinner time. This meal is at least a two hour event, between the hours of 20:30 to 23:00 (or 8:30 P.M. to 11:00 P.M.). Do not expect to find one Italian soul, besides the employees, in a restaurant before 9:00 P.M. eventhough restaurants usually open at eight. Also, dinner in Italy is not rushed, and it certainly does not include one plate. It is rather served in slow courses, and each accompanied with a glass of wine, so expect to order the liter jug, and do not feel guilty. The average Italian drinks about 25 gallons of wine each year.
So, to start things off, as in the States, you can always order an appetizer, or antipasti, with the options for bruschetta, chips, eggplant (very popular in Italy), etc. Typically the complimentary bread will come out with the second course, but if it should come out with or before the first, it is said that one can always pick out an American if the bread is eaten before the meal. But, like I said before: if you are hungry, you are hungry. Next, the first course is usually a pasta or even a whole pizza pie, which is not impossible to eat on your own, so do not be discouraged. The crust is made very thin and the ingredients are not heavy; there are a lot of veggie options and the four-cheese is a common favorite. The third course then consists of meat or fish. It is interesting that the meat is always seperate; it never comes accompanied with any other food. This will always be an unanswered mystery.
I asked my Italian host sister why the meat is not eaten with the pasta or rice—she looked at me blankly and simply responded that she did not know. The best meat I have had in Italy, and can be comparable to an expensive meat dish in the United States, has been in Piazza San Lorenzo at a popular spot called Porca Vacca. The beef is inexpensive, succulent, and savory. Customers can order the meat with various seasonings, but it is important to note that in most restaurants the meat is simply cooked medium, there is usually no option on how it is done. To top off the meal, but before reaching dessert, Italians will eat a salad. This may seem strange but it feels nice finishing a heavy start with something light and refreshing. Oh, and by the way, Ranch dressing is never an option, although the balsamic comes highly recommended if offered. Finally, complete your meal(s) with a palatable dessert and a coffee.
All these rules that accompany the gastronomical aspect of Italian culture may seem a bit daunting, however it is truly a lifestyle. I have been living in Italy for three months and I have grown to love it—I feel healthier, more active, and I have slowed down to actually appreciate and savor the food I eat, even when I am on the go, as though each bite is somehow different from the first. In fact, adopting some of these “eccentricities”, such as the scissor pizza-cutting or salad at the end of the meal, could begin an interesting new perspective on life. Italian dining is not simply a matter of eating good food, the culture that encircles this cuisine creates an experience for both the diner and the taste buds.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Bay of Naples
This past weekend (Sat-Mon) was incredible. The program took us on a trip to the Bay of Naples, where you can find the Amalfi Coast and where the Limoncello always flows.
The first day we went to the Archaeological Museum of Napoli. That was pretty cool because we got to see up close and personal all the sculptures and mosaics we saw in text books. We also got to walk into the "Secret Room", where only men were allowed to enter during ancient times because it is a room filled with erotic art. Sex was a big part of ancient Roman society; it was not tabboo for them as it is for us. There was a lot of sexual humor. Afterwards we explored the ruins of Pompeii. It is such an interesting story. For those of you who don't know it, I will summarize:
The Bay of Naples was, and is, so beautiful that it was once for the ancient Romans what the Hamptons are to us. A lot of the towns on the Bay were filled with resorts and villas, it was a get-away from the city. However, Pompeii was a working city, highly populated with middle and lower class citizens. When Mt. Vesuvius errupted in 79 a.d. it was one of the biggest blasts in history, and the mountain literally blew its top off, which is why it now seems to have two peaks. Pompeii was pretty much right next to the mountain when this happened. The ash and pumus rained over the city for about 6 days and destroyed everything. Luckily, 90% of the 20,0000 population managed to escape.
After Pompeii we went to Sorrento, which was where we slept. We went out and partied that night, got Dr. Dawson, the program director, drunk and it was all around a successful night. The next morning, my friend, Katherine, and I took a trip to Capri, an island off the coast of Sorrento. We woke up early, had a filling breakfast, and took the ferry to Capri. We could not have asked for a more gorgeous day. We did not have a set plan except for that we wanted to get to a nice beach spot and just relax under the sun. This little idea took us through an adventure: On our way to find a relaxing beach spot, we stumbled upon a local soccer game. We felt like the locals and stayed there and watched for about 20min. I cheered for the underdogs as usual.
The first day we went to the Archaeological Museum of Napoli. That was pretty cool because we got to see up close and personal all the sculptures and mosaics we saw in text books. We also got to walk into the "Secret Room", where only men were allowed to enter during ancient times because it is a room filled with erotic art. Sex was a big part of ancient Roman society; it was not tabboo for them as it is for us. There was a lot of sexual humor. Afterwards we explored the ruins of Pompeii. It is such an interesting story. For those of you who don't know it, I will summarize:
The Bay of Naples was, and is, so beautiful that it was once for the ancient Romans what the Hamptons are to us. A lot of the towns on the Bay were filled with resorts and villas, it was a get-away from the city. However, Pompeii was a working city, highly populated with middle and lower class citizens. When Mt. Vesuvius errupted in 79 a.d. it was one of the biggest blasts in history, and the mountain literally blew its top off, which is why it now seems to have two peaks. Pompeii was pretty much right next to the mountain when this happened. The ash and pumus rained over the city for about 6 days and destroyed everything. Luckily, 90% of the 20,0000 population managed to escape.
After Pompeii we went to Sorrento, which was where we slept. We went out and partied that night, got Dr. Dawson, the program director, drunk and it was all around a successful night. The next morning, my friend, Katherine, and I took a trip to Capri, an island off the coast of Sorrento. We woke up early, had a filling breakfast, and took the ferry to Capri. We could not have asked for a more gorgeous day. We did not have a set plan except for that we wanted to get to a nice beach spot and just relax under the sun. This little idea took us through an adventure: On our way to find a relaxing beach spot, we stumbled upon a local soccer game. We felt like the locals and stayed there and watched for about 20min. I cheered for the underdogs as usual.
Next we walked through a vineyard resting just underneath a cliff, and after many winding turn finally made it to the "beach". I use quotation marks because the beach has no sand, but rather pebbles, and instead of being a large expanse of sand and water, there was really almost no place to sit or lay except on this little dock. It was really cool though. We were the only ones there except for this old man making a net. We layed under the sun for about an hour and a half. I dipped my toe in the water, yes just my toe, not my foot, because the water was freezing!Afterwards we got hungry. We took the bus up to Capri, the actual center of the island, and had lunch, while overlooking the island. We then ventured off and found a garden, which was on a cliff, where we sat for about two hours talking and overlooking the ocean. From the cliff we could actually see the spot where we sat at the beach haha. We took the ferry back at 6pm after magical, relaxing day. We had dinner that night and just stayed up talking.
The next morning, Monday, we were off to Naples. The city is so eclectic and it is actually very New York in feeling. Naples is really a city as we know a city to be. It was condensed with buildings, kind of dirty and random shops. Rome is more clean, and although it is a city it is very green. Naples is not green. It was charming though and I would like to go back and really get to know it. The people in Naples are the stereotypical Italians we see in the movies...it was so cute lol. And I think the guys in Naples are probably better looking the guys in Rome...hard to believe.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
To Those Who Dance Without Rhythm:
**The past couple weeks I have had the privilege to do something I have not done in about three years: read for pleasure. I really enjoy reading and and in the past 3 weeks I have read 3 books and I have enjoyed every minute of every word...well, except one book, but that's because I did not really understand the "comedy" of it and it was a quite troubling story...but I'll move on:
Last night I finished reading a book by one of my favorite authors, and international bestseller, Paulo Coelho, called The Witch of Portobello. A lot of his work is enthralled with symbolism, faith, culture, and the underlying message of finding your own path. Each of his stories is so distinct and beautiful that whenever I feel my life, or the people in it, has taken me by surprise and I no longer have a precise direction, I pick up one of his stories and immediately feel inspired. I feel like Paulo (yes, we are on a first name basis) has written that story just for me, in order to give me wisdom and to comfort me with the assertion that eventhough my life has taken an unexpected turn, I am still heading in the right direction.
So, back to The Witch of Portobello: I have taken a few excerpts of wisdom, inspiration, and simply parts of the book that have given me a sense of self-clarification, to share with you. They go a little something like this...**
"Everything moves, and everything moves to a rhythm. And everything that moves to a rhythm creates a sound."
"Do you know what the word 'ecstacy' means? It comes from the Greek and means, 'to stand outside yourself.'"
"...when I dance, I'm a free [person], or rather, a free spirit who can travel through the universe, contemplate the present, divine the future, and be transformed into pure energy. And that gives me enormous pleasure, a joy that always goes far beyond everything I've experienced or will experience in my lifetime...When you dance, the spiritual world and the real world manage to coexist quite happily. I think classical dancers dance on pointes because they're simultaneously touching the earth and reaching up to the skies."
"We all have an unknown ability, which will probably remain unknown forever. And yet that ability can become our ally. Since it's impossible to measure that ability or give it an economic value, it's never taken seriously, but I'm speaking here to other human beings and I'm sure you understand what I mean..."
"God hid the most important things from the wise because they cannot understand what is simple." (See Matthew 11:25, or 1 Corinthians 1:27)
"In some way...joy is infectious, as is enthusiasm and love. Or indeed sadness, depression or hatred- things which can be picked up intuitively by [others]. In order to improve performance, we have to create mechanisms that keep these positive stimuli alive."
"If we slow down, everything lasts much longer."
"Gradually, though, the anxiety gave way to contemplation, and I started listening to my soul... that part of me had been longing to speak to me, but I had always been too busy. In that case, it wasn't a dance, but the complete absence of noise and movement, the silence, that brought me into contact with myself."
"Why is patience so important?" -"Because it makes us pay attention."
"If your soul could communicate with your brain, you would be able to change even more things."
"It isn't enough to say "yes", you must put your life at risk, and without giving it too much thought either."
"What is a teacher? I'll tell you: It isn't someone who teaches something, but someone who inspires the student to give her best in order to discover what she already knows."
"I can love and respect someone I dislike."
"That was the only time I dared to ask her: 'Why do you love me?'
She replied: 'I don't know and I don't care.'"
"Love is not a habit, a commitment, or a debt. It isn't what romantic songs tell us it is- love simply is. Love is. No definitions. Love and don't ask too many questions. Just love."
In an interview with Paulo Coelho, which can be found at the end of the book, the interviewer asks Paulo: "What is God to you?"
He responds: "God's a verb. God is action. God is - is a verb, yes. You cannot define Him. When Moses asks, 'Who are you?', He says, 'I Am.' He does not say I am this or that or that. He just says, 'I Am.' So I think this is the best definition, you know? He is."
**I hope you have read all of it, but if not, I hope you read this final part in purple. I cut and paste things, rearranging the order so it had a better flow. I'm not going to write more about Paulo, the book, nor his comment because I think everything I just typed expresses everything I want to say. Now, it's your turn to comment. And btw, you'll have to read the book in order to understand the title for this post.**
Last night I finished reading a book by one of my favorite authors, and international bestseller, Paulo Coelho, called The Witch of Portobello. A lot of his work is enthralled with symbolism, faith, culture, and the underlying message of finding your own path. Each of his stories is so distinct and beautiful that whenever I feel my life, or the people in it, has taken me by surprise and I no longer have a precise direction, I pick up one of his stories and immediately feel inspired. I feel like Paulo (yes, we are on a first name basis) has written that story just for me, in order to give me wisdom and to comfort me with the assertion that eventhough my life has taken an unexpected turn, I am still heading in the right direction.
So, back to The Witch of Portobello: I have taken a few excerpts of wisdom, inspiration, and simply parts of the book that have given me a sense of self-clarification, to share with you. They go a little something like this...**
"Everything moves, and everything moves to a rhythm. And everything that moves to a rhythm creates a sound."
"Do you know what the word 'ecstacy' means? It comes from the Greek and means, 'to stand outside yourself.'"
"...when I dance, I'm a free [person], or rather, a free spirit who can travel through the universe, contemplate the present, divine the future, and be transformed into pure energy. And that gives me enormous pleasure, a joy that always goes far beyond everything I've experienced or will experience in my lifetime...When you dance, the spiritual world and the real world manage to coexist quite happily. I think classical dancers dance on pointes because they're simultaneously touching the earth and reaching up to the skies."
"We all have an unknown ability, which will probably remain unknown forever. And yet that ability can become our ally. Since it's impossible to measure that ability or give it an economic value, it's never taken seriously, but I'm speaking here to other human beings and I'm sure you understand what I mean..."
"God hid the most important things from the wise because they cannot understand what is simple." (See Matthew 11:25, or 1 Corinthians 1:27)
"In some way...joy is infectious, as is enthusiasm and love. Or indeed sadness, depression or hatred- things which can be picked up intuitively by [others]. In order to improve performance, we have to create mechanisms that keep these positive stimuli alive."
"If we slow down, everything lasts much longer."
"Gradually, though, the anxiety gave way to contemplation, and I started listening to my soul... that part of me had been longing to speak to me, but I had always been too busy. In that case, it wasn't a dance, but the complete absence of noise and movement, the silence, that brought me into contact with myself."
"Why is patience so important?" -"Because it makes us pay attention."
"If your soul could communicate with your brain, you would be able to change even more things."
"It isn't enough to say "yes", you must put your life at risk, and without giving it too much thought either."
"What is a teacher? I'll tell you: It isn't someone who teaches something, but someone who inspires the student to give her best in order to discover what she already knows."
"I can love and respect someone I dislike."
"That was the only time I dared to ask her: 'Why do you love me?'
She replied: 'I don't know and I don't care.'"
"Love is not a habit, a commitment, or a debt. It isn't what romantic songs tell us it is- love simply is. Love is. No definitions. Love and don't ask too many questions. Just love."
In an interview with Paulo Coelho, which can be found at the end of the book, the interviewer asks Paulo: "What is God to you?"He responds: "God's a verb. God is action. God is - is a verb, yes. You cannot define Him. When Moses asks, 'Who are you?', He says, 'I Am.' He does not say I am this or that or that. He just says, 'I Am.' So I think this is the best definition, you know? He is."
**I hope you have read all of it, but if not, I hope you read this final part in purple. I cut and paste things, rearranging the order so it had a better flow. I'm not going to write more about Paulo, the book, nor his comment because I think everything I just typed expresses everything I want to say. Now, it's your turn to comment. And btw, you'll have to read the book in order to understand the title for this post.**
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Expulsion of Triumphant Beast
During my philosophy class we read a dialogue, using the same title for today's post, from Giordiano Bruno, Italian philosopher and martyr from the 1500s. Below is the part of the dialogue that I thought was the most interesting: Bruno goes on to explain the vices of each of the astrological signs, as well as the virtues that should replace them. I think you will find this as cool as I do. In order to help give a better understanding of the more complicated words/explanations for some of the signs, I tried to translate what he says and make it easier to read.Aries: At the former palace of the Ram, you have placed Episcopacy (bishop-likeness), Duchy (qualities of a Duke, or leader), Exemplariness, Demonstration, Counsel, and Indication, which are happy in the area of Respect, Obedience, Consentience, Virtuous Emulation, and Imitation; [you should stay away from your vices, which are:] Bad Example, Scandal, and Alienation, which are tormented in the area of Dispersion, Bewilderment, Apostasy, Schism, and Heresy.
Taurus: Taurus demonstrates that he has been the embodiment of Patience, Tolerance, Controlled, and Just Rage, which are [useful] in the area of Government, Ministry, Service, Labor, Work, Respect, and others. With him depart Unrestrained Ire (rage), Anger, Spite, Disdain, Reluctance, Impatience, Lament, Complaint, and Wrath, which are found almost in the same areas. Looks like someone has an anger problem...
Gemini: Whence depart the Gemini, ascend Figuritive Love (not sure what he means by that...maybe it has something to do with finding you other half since it is a symbol of twins?), Friendship, and Peace, which delight themselves in their own areas; and those banished ones drage along with themselves Unworthy Partiality, which obstinately fixes its foot on the area of Iniquitous (definition: characterized by injustice or wickedness; wicked; sinful) and Perverse Desire.
Cancer: Cancer drags along with himself Wicked Repression, Unworthy Retrogression, Lowly Deformity, and Unpraiseworthy Restraint, the Lowering of the Claws and the Retraction of the Feet from good thinking and doing...which withdraw and keep themselves in the area of Inconstancy, Poverty of Spirit, Ignorance and many others; and to the stars ascend Righteous Conversation, Repression of Evil, Retraction from the false and iniquitous (definition: characterized by injustice or wickedness; wicked; sinful).
Leo: Leo drags with himself Tyrannical Terror (ouch!), Fear, Formidability, Perilous and Hateful Authority, the Glory of the Presumption (ability to assume), and pleasure of being feared rather than loved. [These vices] move in the area of Rigor, Cruelty, Violence, and Suppression, which there, are tormented by the shadows of Fear and Suspicion. [However, your vices are:] Magnanimity, Generosity, Splendor, Nobility, Pre-eminence, which administer within the area of Justice, Mercy, Just Conquest, and Worthy Condoning; and there they are consoled by Security, Tranquility of Spirit, and their families.
Virgo: To join Virgo, go Continence, Pudency, Chastity, Modesty, Shyness, and Honesty, which triumph in the area of Purity and Honor, despised by Impudence, Incontinence (definition: lacking in moderation or self-control, esp. of sexual desire; unceasing or unrestrained), and other mothers of hostile families.
Libra: The Scales have always been the archetype of Expected Equality, Justice, Grace, Gratitude, Respect, and other companions, administrators, and followers, which move about in the area of Distribution, Commutation, and Retribution, where Injustice, Disgrace, Ingratitude, Arrogance, and other of their companions, daughters, and administrators do not set foot.
Scorpio: Where Scorpio used to curve his hooked tail and spread his claws, there no longer appear Fraud, Iniquitious Applause (unjust or wicked criticism), Feigned Love, Deception, and Betrayal, but the contrary virtues, daughters of Simplicity, Sincerity, and Truth, which move about in the area of the mothers. Someone has trust issues...
Sagittarius (my sign): We see that Sagittarius was the emblem of Contemplation, Study, and Good Applause (praising), with [these virtues'] followers and servants, which have as object and subject the area of the Truth and the Good in order to form the Intellect and Will, [from which] are far removed Affected Ignorance and Lowly Unconcern (not taking notice when someone is trying to do good).
Capricorn: This one is pretty complicated, so I'll paraphrase it: You live the life of a hermit, which in your case is virtuous. You seek Solitude, Dissengagement, and Contemplation. This interior life will bring you liberty, in which are not secure Conversation, [Business]...and Feasting (partying, or gluttony). Get out of the public area because it will keep you away from your hermit life, which will bring you Absolution and Liberty.
Aquarius: In the place of humid and distempered Aquarius, you see Temperance, teh mother of many and innumberable virtues, who particularly shows herself there with her daughters, Civility and Urbanity, from whose area escape Intermperance of Affects, with Wildness, Harshness, and Barbarity.
Pisces: Whence, Unworthy Silence, Envy of Knowledge, and Defraudation of Doctorine, which move in the area of Misanthropy and Baseness of Mind, the Pisces are removed, there are placed Worthy Silence and Taciturnity, which move in the area of Prudence, Continence, Patience, Moderation, and others, from which flee to contrary shelters, Loquacity (characterized by excessive talk), Garrulity (synonym for Loquacious, but more like rambling or wordy), Buffoonery (burn!), Levity of Intentions, Vain Talk, Whispering, Complaint, Murmuring. Seems like someone doesn't know when to stop talking, and is fond of gossip.
I hope you found this as interesting as I did. Albeit, I don't really believe in all this astronomical hocus pokus, but it's cool for fun and it always surprises me how things like this can sometimes be very insightful and even correct in some assumptions.
As you may know, Bruno is later tortured and burned at the stake for his many heretical comments. In this particular essay, Bruno satirically attacks religion in general, proclaming that religion is abstract, when it should be practical and applied to real life...or maybe Queen Elizabeth I (the person he gave this text to), as the head of the church and state at that time, did not like the fact that she was being called an "Immodest" Heretic...ironic isn't it?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
What I Say to People on the Metro
Caution: The following post has explicit language, not advisable to read out loud nor to young children. Someone may be offended...sorry...or am I?
Everyday, on the metro, I do the most cussing I have ever done in my life. Probably more than my occasional road-range antics, and probably more than when I am cursing the bane of my existence--long homework that I have put off for the last minute...again. When I am underneath the city's gravel, vegetation, and homes, I am sure to find a multitude of people that will piss me off:
To the man idly standing on the left passing lane of the escalators, even though he sees everyone standing on the right as they should be, I say, "Thanks for blocking the way asshole. You see everyone on the right; why don't you give it a try so you don't have to move out of my damn way next time."
To the teen rebel donning facial piercing and baggy jeans, who is also sitting between two seats, inconsiderate of not just me but also to the poor woman struggling to hold a load of baggage, I say, "You don't need the leg room, you piece of shit! There is nothing between them anyways."
From two carts over, I say, "Shut the fuck up! We don't care!" to the group of American girls "chatting" a little over boisterously about all the things they LOVE when I'm sure they don't even like 50% of it...I mean, who loves Ikea scissors?
However, during rush hour periods, like the rush to work, the rush to lunch, or the rush home post-work, is when I say the really rich stuff. But especially in the mornings, because that's when I am at my worst and simply want to be left alone:
As my claustrophobia starts acting up, and my heart starts racing faster than I my eyes can blink, I tell the metro conductor that he's a cock-sucking, shit-eating, motherfucker for allowing too many people on the damn metro. I can barely keep it together, and I hear other people start panicking because others behind them are pushing them into a cart, that can probably hold about 50 people but is now pushing 80, as the doors start to close.
As I try to unravel my scarf and unzip my coat, praying to get to the next platform before I really lose it, I tell the mother next to me that she, is in fact, a selfish bitch for bringing her young child, who can barely breathe himself, onto an over packed cart. I try to look for a small piece of air to call my own, to try to help my heart and breathing slow down to a more normal pace. When, and if, I finally find it I tell the girl, usually a little taller and about an inch away from my face, to go...screw...a cactus, as the sweet stench of her breakfast infiltrates the tiny piece of space that I can hardly try to even call my own--if only for the fact that my mere body mass is taking it up.
When we get to the next platform I analyze the on-to-off ratio and decide whether I can continue or if I should get off. I can usually continue, but there has been an unbearable instance or two when I couldn't. "Get out of my way, you sardine-loving mofos," I say as I fight to squeeze my way out of the masses, sometimes throwing in an elbow or stepping on a foot. I barely make it out of the suction tube and onto the platform as the doors swiftly shut behind me. Keep in mind that all these things happen within a time span from one platform to the next...a matter of about 1 minute.
To all these people, I really do say all these things, secretly inside my head, as my mother taught me to always be lady-like and considerate.
Everyday, on the metro, I do the most cussing I have ever done in my life. Probably more than my occasional road-range antics, and probably more than when I am cursing the bane of my existence--long homework that I have put off for the last minute...again. When I am underneath the city's gravel, vegetation, and homes, I am sure to find a multitude of people that will piss me off:
To the man idly standing on the left passing lane of the escalators, even though he sees everyone standing on the right as they should be, I say, "Thanks for blocking the way asshole. You see everyone on the right; why don't you give it a try so you don't have to move out of my damn way next time."
To the teen rebel donning facial piercing and baggy jeans, who is also sitting between two seats, inconsiderate of not just me but also to the poor woman struggling to hold a load of baggage, I say, "You don't need the leg room, you piece of shit! There is nothing between them anyways."
From two carts over, I say, "Shut the fuck up! We don't care!" to the group of American girls "chatting" a little over boisterously about all the things they LOVE when I'm sure they don't even like 50% of it...I mean, who loves Ikea scissors?
However, during rush hour periods, like the rush to work, the rush to lunch, or the rush home post-work, is when I say the really rich stuff. But especially in the mornings, because that's when I am at my worst and simply want to be left alone:
As my claustrophobia starts acting up, and my heart starts racing faster than I my eyes can blink, I tell the metro conductor that he's a cock-sucking, shit-eating, motherfucker for allowing too many people on the damn metro. I can barely keep it together, and I hear other people start panicking because others behind them are pushing them into a cart, that can probably hold about 50 people but is now pushing 80, as the doors start to close.
As I try to unravel my scarf and unzip my coat, praying to get to the next platform before I really lose it, I tell the mother next to me that she, is in fact, a selfish bitch for bringing her young child, who can barely breathe himself, onto an over packed cart. I try to look for a small piece of air to call my own, to try to help my heart and breathing slow down to a more normal pace. When, and if, I finally find it I tell the girl, usually a little taller and about an inch away from my face, to go...screw...a cactus, as the sweet stench of her breakfast infiltrates the tiny piece of space that I can hardly try to even call my own--if only for the fact that my mere body mass is taking it up.
When we get to the next platform I analyze the on-to-off ratio and decide whether I can continue or if I should get off. I can usually continue, but there has been an unbearable instance or two when I couldn't. "Get out of my way, you sardine-loving mofos," I say as I fight to squeeze my way out of the masses, sometimes throwing in an elbow or stepping on a foot. I barely make it out of the suction tube and onto the platform as the doors swiftly shut behind me. Keep in mind that all these things happen within a time span from one platform to the next...a matter of about 1 minute.
To all these people, I really do say all these things, secretly inside my head, as my mother taught me to always be lady-like and considerate.
Milano & Mozzarella Farm
I combined these two trips since there was not too much to say about each individually:Milano: whoever said that Milan is like the New York of Italy lied. In my opinion, New York is waaaay better. Much more exciting and lively than Milan, although I'm sure they rival in the night-life aspect. However, during the day you can go to Milan's main attraction: Piazza del Duomo. There, Milan has, obviously, its duomo, or cathedral, which is truly grandiose and something I recommend you lay your eyes on. I did not go inside, but the outside told me everything I needed to know. It was decadent and intricate, like the wedding cake you have wanted but could not afford. And for those of you that wanted a really simply one, just try to imagine.
To the duomo's right is the world-reknown Rinascente. We're talking Louis Vuitton, Dior, Miu Miu, Missoni, and other brands I've never even heard of but I knew were in league with the big dogs. To the left of the duomo is an art gallery, which was exhibiting Italian futurism and seemed to be a pretty big deal. I really wanted to check out the exhibit but the line for the museum got increasingly long so I skipped it. However, for the two days I was there I ate lunch at the same spot, endulging myself with panini that have altered my life--if not, at least the rest of this trip-- at a spot called Panino Giusto (ju-sto, meaning "right" or "correct"). Giusto it is! After eating panini at this spot, which unfortunately does not branch out to the capital, I cannot bare to eat another panino, at least not in Rome, because the ones in Rome are comparable to crap.On saturday night my friend took me to a club that her friend, the DJ, was throwing a party at. It was a masqued party, celebrating Carnival. It was fun seeing all the people in strange masks, but the music got old really quick. Basically, I had a good time in Milan, and got some kick-ass heels out of it, but I would not rush back any time soon.
Mozzarella Farm: This past Saturday the group went to a family-owned Mozzarella farm about two hours away from Rome. Needless to say, the mozzarella was heaven. It is probably the freshest mozzarella I will ever have again in my life. At the farm we learned how the cheese was made: it comes from waterbuffalo, which are, of course, milked to produce the cheese. The milk is then put into a machine, which transforms it into a pasta-like paste. After the paste is produced, they are chopped up into tiny pieces and put into another machine that somehow turns it into cheese (sorry my memory gets a little faint here). However, the cheese still does not taste like the mozz. we have grown to know and love because it is not salted. The mozz is placed into a salty water and soaked there for about two hours and is then packaged into water-filled bags. It is best to leave the mozz in these bags at room temp. (not in fridge) to divulge at its freshest, although it would only last about 4 days. We got to have some of the mozz right out of the soaking bin...im a big fan!
We went on to see the buffalo...some were brave enough to touch them. I was not one of them, and I certainly did not want to get licked. The babies were really cute...but I still did not touch them. Afterwards we were fed a 13 course meal and were stuffed beyond our wildest dreams. However, I still ate dinner with my host family about 4 hours later.
Good times.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Turning Point
This is a brief recount of my newfound faith. I know some of you keeping up with my blog might be interested so here it goes:
As a Catholic, I have always believed in God. I believed He existed and I believed that there must be some kind of greater power at work. However, I never knew what this meant or how to apply it. If anyone ever asked, yes, I believe in God. I am Catholic, right? However, only recently have I really learned what this meant.
As a child, I was never forced to go to church, and honestly I was never that interested. Sure, I knew certain stories from the Bible, and I had a somewhat broad overview of my religion. At one point in my sophomore year of high school, I started taking private bible study classes at home, feeling embarrassed for not knowing what everyone else seemingly “naturally” knew about the bible, God, and Christianity in general. From there I decided I wanted to make God a part of my life, but how?
To me, religion was always something very private; I never felt comfortable talking about it. I felt embarrassed about my ignorance, but I understood the basic gist of what being a good Christian meant, and I would occasionally pray. So, how could I, with no background, feel a strong connection with God? This was when my search for God began. I took Bible study classes and I applied to a Jesuit college, hoping to find God in a religiously affiliated institution. There, I took theology and philosophy courses, which were required but I really enjoyed. Yet none of these things helped me feel more connected. Why was my search not working? I certainly gained a little knowledge, but I felt that in order to really find God, I should feel some kind of passion within me. Shouldn’t I? It was no longer enough for me to believe for the sake of believing.
Finally I came to Rome—the Catholic hub of the world. As a student who would be spending an entire semester in a country with a foreign language, and had never been away and alone from home for more than a month, my search for God took a small pause. It remained in the back of my mind while I visited the cathedrals and churches, but I was mostly there to appreciate the art. Then, something unexpected happened: I was invited to lunch.
An old friend who lives in Rome invited me to lunch with, whom she likes to call, her second family. I met the lady of the house, Jane, her husband, Peppo, and their eleven-year-old daughter. I immediately felt so welcome and comfortable in a way I rarely felt at a stranger’s home. I learned that this family has a strong Christian faith, conducting bible studies at their house, and that Peppo, who was once an actor is now a missionary. We had lunch, jumped on their trampoline, talked, and watched a movie. Through this amazing family I learned that everything is possible through God. As we left their home to commute back to our own homes, I felt something I had never felt before—I felt a rush of happiness, appreciation, thankfulness, love, and the sudden urge to cry. I realized at that moment that I had finally found God. What was a fun and simple afternoon turned into a most unexpected and wonderful realization, confirming my view that everything happens for a reason. I searched for God in bible studies, I searched for God in a catholic university, I searched for Him in cathedrals and churches, but I finally found Him in people.
I did not have big plans for this summer. I originally planned to work as much as possible in order to recoup the money I am spending during my study abroad. However, I am now interested in applying for a two-week Erasmus summer program. It "is designed to introduce its participants to major contemporary trends in disciplines in both the humanities and social sciences"* with a Christian undertone. I immediately knew this was something I wanted to participate in. I believe that this program will help me expand and grow upon my newfound faith. As an advertising major, I also feel that the program can teach me how I can apply what I learn to my career. I look forward to discussing the “big, even ultimate questions” with a group, no longer feeling embarrassed, and now more willing and prepared to make my faith a little more public.
*http://www.nd.edu/~erasmus/summer_programs/index.html
--so this is actually the personal statement I wrote for the essay question asking why I wanted to be in the program. All of it is word for word except the explanation about the program. Do you think this was a good answer?--
Anyways, I got back from Milan Monday afternoon and I know you guys are anxiously awaiting a post about that...sorry you'll have to wait a little longer! I need to eat before my next class.
As a Catholic, I have always believed in God. I believed He existed and I believed that there must be some kind of greater power at work. However, I never knew what this meant or how to apply it. If anyone ever asked, yes, I believe in God. I am Catholic, right? However, only recently have I really learned what this meant.
As a child, I was never forced to go to church, and honestly I was never that interested. Sure, I knew certain stories from the Bible, and I had a somewhat broad overview of my religion. At one point in my sophomore year of high school, I started taking private bible study classes at home, feeling embarrassed for not knowing what everyone else seemingly “naturally” knew about the bible, God, and Christianity in general. From there I decided I wanted to make God a part of my life, but how?
To me, religion was always something very private; I never felt comfortable talking about it. I felt embarrassed about my ignorance, but I understood the basic gist of what being a good Christian meant, and I would occasionally pray. So, how could I, with no background, feel a strong connection with God? This was when my search for God began. I took Bible study classes and I applied to a Jesuit college, hoping to find God in a religiously affiliated institution. There, I took theology and philosophy courses, which were required but I really enjoyed. Yet none of these things helped me feel more connected. Why was my search not working? I certainly gained a little knowledge, but I felt that in order to really find God, I should feel some kind of passion within me. Shouldn’t I? It was no longer enough for me to believe for the sake of believing.
Finally I came to Rome—the Catholic hub of the world. As a student who would be spending an entire semester in a country with a foreign language, and had never been away and alone from home for more than a month, my search for God took a small pause. It remained in the back of my mind while I visited the cathedrals and churches, but I was mostly there to appreciate the art. Then, something unexpected happened: I was invited to lunch.
An old friend who lives in Rome invited me to lunch with, whom she likes to call, her second family. I met the lady of the house, Jane, her husband, Peppo, and their eleven-year-old daughter. I immediately felt so welcome and comfortable in a way I rarely felt at a stranger’s home. I learned that this family has a strong Christian faith, conducting bible studies at their house, and that Peppo, who was once an actor is now a missionary. We had lunch, jumped on their trampoline, talked, and watched a movie. Through this amazing family I learned that everything is possible through God. As we left their home to commute back to our own homes, I felt something I had never felt before—I felt a rush of happiness, appreciation, thankfulness, love, and the sudden urge to cry. I realized at that moment that I had finally found God. What was a fun and simple afternoon turned into a most unexpected and wonderful realization, confirming my view that everything happens for a reason. I searched for God in bible studies, I searched for God in a catholic university, I searched for Him in cathedrals and churches, but I finally found Him in people.
I did not have big plans for this summer. I originally planned to work as much as possible in order to recoup the money I am spending during my study abroad. However, I am now interested in applying for a two-week Erasmus summer program. It "is designed to introduce its participants to major contemporary trends in disciplines in both the humanities and social sciences"* with a Christian undertone. I immediately knew this was something I wanted to participate in. I believe that this program will help me expand and grow upon my newfound faith. As an advertising major, I also feel that the program can teach me how I can apply what I learn to my career. I look forward to discussing the “big, even ultimate questions” with a group, no longer feeling embarrassed, and now more willing and prepared to make my faith a little more public.
*http://www.nd.edu/~erasmus/summer_programs/index.html
--so this is actually the personal statement I wrote for the essay question asking why I wanted to be in the program. All of it is word for word except the explanation about the program. Do you think this was a good answer?--
Anyways, I got back from Milan Monday afternoon and I know you guys are anxiously awaiting a post about that...sorry you'll have to wait a little longer! I need to eat before my next class.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Under the Tuscan Sun
This past weekend we had a class trip to Tuscany. We visited the less discovered towns of Siena, Arezzo, and Asissi. They were all charming in their own ways.
Siena had a gigantic, sloping piazza in which you could lay down and just bask in the sun. It also had villages within the city (similar to Columbia, but Italian city style), each with their own coat of arms (caterpillar, goat, boar, etc.). Each year they have a horserace, or something to that effect, to compete for the "best village" title. I know you love my analogies. The picture to the right is of Siena's piazza and my wine glass. Natasha and I were sitting at a cute cafe's little ledge/balcony overlooking the square.
Siena had a gigantic, sloping piazza in which you could lay down and just bask in the sun. It also had villages within the city (similar to Columbia, but Italian city style), each with their own coat of arms (caterpillar, goat, boar, etc.). Each year they have a horserace, or something to that effect, to compete for the "best village" title. I know you love my analogies. The picture to the right is of Siena's piazza and my wine glass. Natasha and I were sitting at a cute cafe's little ledge/balcony overlooking the square.
Afterwards we headed to Arezzo. The cool thing about this town is that on the first of every month there is an antique market that takes over the main street of the town. There were lovely trinkets, American class rings (lol clearly not an antique), and vintage YSL ties. I even saw an extremely old camera, used in the days before film was invented. It was a good price, but still out of my price range :( That day Natasha and I went to mass (in Italian of course), enduring the chilling temperature inside a church constructed around the 1400's. It is still used today of course, but it doesn't have central heating, like most of these ancient churches do. Little did we know that this same church has a very important fresco hiding behind the pulpit. The fresco depicted the story of the cross. Note that I said the story of the CROSS, not the story of Jesus, but rather how the cross came to be used for Jesus' death. Because, of course, only a special type of wood could be used for such a man.
Ps: A fresco is a form of painting in which the artists paints over wet concrete so that the image is actually preserved inside the wall.
From Arezzo we went to the highlight of the trip: wine tasting! We drove about an hour to Castello del Trebbio. This is a real castle that was owned by the Pazzi family in the medieval/renaissance period. The Pazzi family was the 2nd most influential (wealth and power) family in the region, second to the Medici family. The Medici family was first because they had the political influence that the Pazzi's didn't. So, one day the Pazzi's were sick of being 2nd and they developed a plot to assissinate the two most important Medici brothers. However, this was tricky business because the Medici's were never seen together since it was too dangerous. The only time they were all together in one place was on Sunday's at church. The Pazzi's decided to use that opportunity to assissinate the brothers. So one day during Sunday mass, the assassin went in and managed to kill one of the brothers. The other managed to escape. Everyone was in an outrage--how dare the Pazzi's try to kill someone inside a church!? The surviving Medici brother went on to wipe out the entire Pazzi family, sparing no one. He confiscated the castle that is now used by the current family living there. How did this family acquire the castle you may ask?
Interesting story:
The name of the woman who owns the vineyard and castle is Anna. Her father was a very wealthy and successful business man, but was also a widow who had no children and lived a very lonely and unhappy life. One day, while on a train, her father met Anna's mother. At the time her mother was 20 years old and her father was 60. They fell madly in love, got married, and had five children. As you can imagine, Anna's father was now a very happy man. To thank his young wife, he bought her this castle (4o rooms, a courtyard, and acres and acres of land). Anna's mother was a stay-at-home mom, but she wanted something extra to occupy her time. So, she started a vineyard that produces wine and olive oil. Anna's parent's have both died (her father by natural causes and her mother in a car accident), and Anna has kept the tradition. She bought out her siblings in order to be in charge of such a big responsibility.
Another intersting thing is that Anna and her family (1 husband and 3 kids) actually LIVE in this castle...every day! We got a tour of their home; well, the family rooms on the first floor, and their wine cellar. Anna prepared some apperitivo for us, like bruschetta and patte using her olive oil, to accompany our wine tasting. We sampled two chianti (one light-body chianti and one full body) and a white wine (I bought 2 light body chianti, 1 white wine, and bottle of olive oil). We also sampled a very strong desert wine--bitter and sweet taste--in which we dipped biscotti.
At the castle they also offer vacation packages, using private, neighboring villas, as well as wedding services. Yes, I'm already wondering how long the waiting list is to start preparing for my wedding. It was such a lovely experience and I want to do it again. Someone please come visit me so I can take you!
The next day we visited Asissi (pic above). This town was my favorite out of all three. It is the quintessential, Italian town. We got a lot of exercise because it is all on a hill, but well worth it. We visited the Basilica of St. Frances (below), Church of St. Clara, and had lunch. I tried rabbit and pig cheek. Very exciting lol
So that's what I did in Tuscany. This weekend I'm off to Milan!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
About My Neighborhood: Manzoni
At first glance, maybe even a third glance, Manzoni does not look like much. It certainly does not look like the kind of neighborhood hiding residences comparable to palaces, at least by Roman standards. My family's "apartment" could easily be an expensive, Maryland townhouse. My new home has two large levels with wooden floors, the bathroom I share with my host sisters even has black marble! When I walked through the neighborhood for the first time, on my way to meet my new family, I thought I'd be living in a tiny, rundown apartment.
There is trash on the street instead of inside the street dumpsters, there are life-size posters promoting anti-xxx lining the walls of most buildings, there's a large abandoned warehouse with broken windows, and of course, the frequent theme that has characterized Rome-- grafitti. So, you can imagine my surprise when I walked into this palace. However, now that I've been here for a while and have gotten a better look at the neighborhood, it's actually not too bad. I do not feel unsafe walking around alone, especially when the sun is setting and there is a certain calmness.
In a way, this part of the city is not unlike New York; it is a Romanized NY if you will. There is the frequent smell of ciggaretts, trash, and fresh gasoline. Especially on weekday mornings when Manzoni is buzzing with pedestrians, mainly punk-rock high schoolers fresh off the metro. They kind of linger and hang out on the block next to the metro, smoking and chatting for a bit before finishing their walk to school.
Despite these imperfections, if you look closely, the Manzoni area does have a certain beauty about it. The people seem approachable, unlike people in other areas, there are grand, rustic buildings sprinkled throughout the quarters, and Rome's infamous Colloseum is within walking distance. The Colloseum is one of my favorite buildings in the city and I am glad it is one of the few buildings that has evaded all the grafitti. Manzoni may not be the quaint, stereotypical Italian town, but Manzoni does have a certain charm. It is beautiful in it's imperfections, and by now I have grown up enough to know that nothing is ever what it seems at first glance.
There is trash on the street instead of inside the street dumpsters, there are life-size posters promoting anti-xxx lining the walls of most buildings, there's a large abandoned warehouse with broken windows, and of course, the frequent theme that has characterized Rome-- grafitti. So, you can imagine my surprise when I walked into this palace. However, now that I've been here for a while and have gotten a better look at the neighborhood, it's actually not too bad. I do not feel unsafe walking around alone, especially when the sun is setting and there is a certain calmness.
In a way, this part of the city is not unlike New York; it is a Romanized NY if you will. There is the frequent smell of ciggaretts, trash, and fresh gasoline. Especially on weekday mornings when Manzoni is buzzing with pedestrians, mainly punk-rock high schoolers fresh off the metro. They kind of linger and hang out on the block next to the metro, smoking and chatting for a bit before finishing their walk to school.
Despite these imperfections, if you look closely, the Manzoni area does have a certain beauty about it. The people seem approachable, unlike people in other areas, there are grand, rustic buildings sprinkled throughout the quarters, and Rome's infamous Colloseum is within walking distance. The Colloseum is one of my favorite buildings in the city and I am glad it is one of the few buildings that has evaded all the grafitti. Manzoni may not be the quaint, stereotypical Italian town, but Manzoni does have a certain charm. It is beautiful in it's imperfections, and by now I have grown up enough to know that nothing is ever what it seems at first glance.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Art & Architecture
Rome has been quite an adventure thus far...Friday night the group wanted to go out. I wasn't really in the mood because I was so tired, and I had class the next morning (yea, on a Saturday since we did not have class on Monday or Tuesday due to the holiday). But I went anyways since I did not go out the first time and I wascurious about Roman nightlife. I figured that since on the first night everyone went to the American bars, they had gotten that out of their system and we'd go to some cool Italian spot. We met at Piazza di Spagna and pre-gamed outside, attracting a lot of attention taking pictures and since we are a group of 33, it's hard not to get noticed lol.
We were there for about an hour or so waiting for everyone to arrive, but little did I know this would be the best part of the night...So, we start heading to Campo di Fiori (American bar area). The drunken "leaders" of the group said would be a 15min walk but actually ended up being 45min...it wouldn't have been a bad walk if I hadn't been wearing heels (ladies beware: there area cobblestones everywhere). We end up at The Drunken Ship and turned the entrance into a dance floor, dancing to Britney Spears all night (and by all night, i mean until they kicked us out about an hour later because they were closing).
Afterwards, everyone wanted to go to another place called Scholars, but it was around 2am and a couple of us wanted to get some sleep before class, so we decide to head home.
Warning: don't hold your breath for the night bus.
As we walked to the bus station, we see both busses we need (one behind the other) drive past us. We are screaming and running, but driver just shrugs and continues. One girl, not wearing heels, books it and catches up with one of the busses and he finally stops. He takes us to the main bus station, where we get off and wait for our connection. Oh, btw, on our walk to the bus station, a car full of italian men pulls up next to us (6 girls) and ask if we want a ride...tempting, but no.
So we are waiting at the bus station, and again, another car full of italian men pulls up and ask if we want a ride...but in retrospect, it might have been the same guys lol. When we are just about to give up and catch a cab, our bus pulls up (around 3:30am).
The next morning....
I wake up 20min before my class starts. It takes me about 3minutes to realize I will be late. Thank goodness I live close to the metro station and it is a quick ride to the school. I arrive to my first Art & Architecture class about 5min late.
I LOVE this class. It's basically an in-depth tour of Rome. On our first day, we saw where the Romans used to have their chariot races. Any person casually walking through the area would not have ever known this because it's basically a beautiful green field now with gorgeous ruins overlooking it. We saw Hercules' Temple, which was once a port for import/export, but due to changed landscape is now a street (the temple has been preserved, and is actually the oldest standing temple in Rome). The interesting thing about this class is that many of the things we'll see existed in ancient Rome, but now either do not exist or have been used to build other things.Modern Rome is a city that has a constantly rising ground level. It has been built on top of other structures, so underneath a church, for example, could be another church. My professor, who is an archeologist, says that if we were to dig, we would find the entire ancient roman city underneath modern Rome. This is also why Rome only has two metro lines (the A and B lines), because if they were to add more, they would destroy the buildings underneath. Throughout the city one can find several major excavation projects and the ruins coming back to life. Very interesting.
Later that night we all went out again. However, because we are such a large group decisions could not be made and we spent most of the night walking around aimlessly again. But it was kind of nice because we went through several neighborhoods and piazze (plural for piazza), getting a feeling for the Italian nightlife. There were young italians all over the place chilling with friends outside of the pubs and restaurants, which make the streets very vibrant. I do not feel unsafe at all walking around at night. I usually go home alone, and I feel comfortable asking for directions. The Italians are very helpful, although they love to make directions up when they don't really know the answer. I found a bus that would take me to the metro, and on there I met a group of Bolivian students. I told them I was Dominican, and they told me to sit with them. We chatted for a little bit (group of 5 guys) and I found out they are 17 years old, in Rome for two more days, having a study tour through Europe. Very cool!
They happened to be getting off at my stop, so they walked me to the metro. When I told them I was going to the fùtbol match on Sunday, they got very jealous lol. At this point it was 1:20 am, which meant I only had 10min before the metro stopped running. So i RAN to the station, and apparantly I wasn't the only one-- I felt like I was in the running of the bulls, italian style lol. That was fun...I felt so Italian lol.
So last night...
Sunday, we went to the game (Roma vs. Milan). The stadium was packed! It was a gorgeous stadium though. Fun time, except for when I got lost trying to find my group on my way back from the bathroom...lost an earring lol (thank goodness that was the only thing). I drank a little too much wine, but overall it was a successful night.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Bienvenuti!
I arrived to Rome on Sunday Jan. 4th. The following accounts are emails I sent to my mom before I created the Blog*. However, now that I have this blog, I will be posting here instead of sending emails so everyone can share my experiences!
*It will be in present tense so assume it is that day.
Sunday Jan. 4, 2009
I arrived to Rome safe and sound. It is so cool here! It's not what I expected, but it's not worse than what I expected either. Today was such a long day! It's 9:30pm right now while you guys are just in the middle of your day! I've only had a 1 hour nap (which means I've been up for 1 day and 1/2)...so exhausted and sooo sick...I had a fever on the plane so the flight attendant gave me asprin. It helped for a little bit but I've been pushing myself through the day and it's been really tough. My throat is killing me!!! Im going to take nyquil before I hit the bed, but if Im not better by tomorrow then I'll go to the pharmacy and get antibiotics (we dont need prescriptions for those here, thank God!). But don't worry, I'm still having a good time.
So, today we arrived and I was surprised to notice that I was probably the lightest packed out of almost everyone (one boy brought a backpack and suitcase so he beat me) but it was still hard pulling it around...luckily that was only for a short period of time lol. After getting settled into the dorm rooms, which we'll be staying in until Tuesday, we had orientation and explored the neighborhood surrounding the school. It is very beautiful. It's a Sunday so a lot of things were closed, but we bought some food at a bar (snack bar of course) and it was delicious! I got a pizza unlike any other pizza I've ever tasted (yum!).
After that I took my one hour nap until the 2nd part of orientation in which we had a walking tour of Rome. We walked for about 4 hours from one end of Rome to the other. It was so amazing, so gorgeous, so...Italy! I felt I was ready to die because of my throat, but it was great. I didn't want to take a lot of pics though, because I wanted to just absorb the environment. So many things are different. After the tour we FINALLY went to dinner around 6:30pm (which is not the typical time for Italian dinner, usually around 8:30pm, but we'd been starving). Dinner was delicious, but again, the food was really scratching my throat so I couldn't really enjoy that. However, I am glad I came...just wish I hadn't arrived arrive sick :(
Tuesday Jan. 6, 2009
OMG! The past two days have been great! So much to tell...gotta b quick tho cuz dinner starts soon. Soooo where to start? ok I'll start with yesterday...
Yesterday I got a nice 12hrs of sleep hahaha I got to wake up at 10:30am. We had a short orientation and then went walking around Rome again. This time we went to Italiaidea which is the name of the school we will be having our 3hr Italian classes, it is located near Piazza di Spagna (where the Spanish Steps are). I had to take a placement exam and basically, if I do better than the intro level of Italian, I get credits for a higher level class at Loyola. For example, I've taken up to level 104 so since I know I did well on the exam, I'll get credits at Loyola for the next level which is 201. We spent a while at Italiaidea learning about the school and stuff.
Afterwards we went to this great pizzeria which are just like a nice restaurant lol I got some antibiotics so by that time I felt a lot better. The pharmacy was AMAZING lol Don't worry, I have not overmedicated myself. The pharmacist was so helpful too, just like a doctor lol After dinner everyone went out but I still wasnt feeling completely myself so I stayed in.
Today...I went to the Epiphany (the name of the holiday) Mass, in which the pope presided in Vatican City. The mass was held in St. Peter's Basilica, which is simply stunning. In March we have an audience with the pope, in which he basically blesses everyone and their objects in the middle of the plaza (or Piaza in italian) and it's kind of like a pep rally lol.
After the mass we seperated into groups to explore the neighborhoods we'll b living in while we are here. I just arrived about an hour ago to my host family's house. It's a HUGE and GORGEOUS apartment! I have my own room and it's basically my dream bedroom lol La mia mamma italiana, Maria Pia, and her daughters, Livia (19yrs) & Agnese (16yrs) seem so lovely and I can tell we'll quickly become a family. Oh, I even have a dog named Pongo (but he's really annoying).
*It will be in present tense so assume it is that day.
Sunday Jan. 4, 2009
I arrived to Rome safe and sound. It is so cool here! It's not what I expected, but it's not worse than what I expected either. Today was such a long day! It's 9:30pm right now while you guys are just in the middle of your day! I've only had a 1 hour nap (which means I've been up for 1 day and 1/2)...so exhausted and sooo sick...I had a fever on the plane so the flight attendant gave me asprin. It helped for a little bit but I've been pushing myself through the day and it's been really tough. My throat is killing me!!! Im going to take nyquil before I hit the bed, but if Im not better by tomorrow then I'll go to the pharmacy and get antibiotics (we dont need prescriptions for those here, thank God!). But don't worry, I'm still having a good time.
So, today we arrived and I was surprised to notice that I was probably the lightest packed out of almost everyone (one boy brought a backpack and suitcase so he beat me) but it was still hard pulling it around...luckily that was only for a short period of time lol. After getting settled into the dorm rooms, which we'll be staying in until Tuesday, we had orientation and explored the neighborhood surrounding the school. It is very beautiful. It's a Sunday so a lot of things were closed, but we bought some food at a bar (snack bar of course) and it was delicious! I got a pizza unlike any other pizza I've ever tasted (yum!).
After that I took my one hour nap until the 2nd part of orientation in which we had a walking tour of Rome. We walked for about 4 hours from one end of Rome to the other. It was so amazing, so gorgeous, so...Italy! I felt I was ready to die because of my throat, but it was great. I didn't want to take a lot of pics though, because I wanted to just absorb the environment. So many things are different. After the tour we FINALLY went to dinner around 6:30pm (which is not the typical time for Italian dinner, usually around 8:30pm, but we'd been starving). Dinner was delicious, but again, the food was really scratching my throat so I couldn't really enjoy that. However, I am glad I came...just wish I hadn't arrived arrive sick :(
Tuesday Jan. 6, 2009
OMG! The past two days have been great! So much to tell...gotta b quick tho cuz dinner starts soon. Soooo where to start? ok I'll start with yesterday...
Yesterday I got a nice 12hrs of sleep hahaha I got to wake up at 10:30am. We had a short orientation and then went walking around Rome again. This time we went to Italiaidea which is the name of the school we will be having our 3hr Italian classes, it is located near Piazza di Spagna (where the Spanish Steps are). I had to take a placement exam and basically, if I do better than the intro level of Italian, I get credits for a higher level class at Loyola. For example, I've taken up to level 104 so since I know I did well on the exam, I'll get credits at Loyola for the next level which is 201. We spent a while at Italiaidea learning about the school and stuff.
Afterwards we went to this great pizzeria which are just like a nice restaurant lol I got some antibiotics so by that time I felt a lot better. The pharmacy was AMAZING lol Don't worry, I have not overmedicated myself. The pharmacist was so helpful too, just like a doctor lol After dinner everyone went out but I still wasnt feeling completely myself so I stayed in.
Today...I went to the Epiphany (the name of the holiday) Mass, in which the pope presided in Vatican City. The mass was held in St. Peter's Basilica, which is simply stunning. In March we have an audience with the pope, in which he basically blesses everyone and their objects in the middle of the plaza (or Piaza in italian) and it's kind of like a pep rally lol.
After the mass we seperated into groups to explore the neighborhoods we'll b living in while we are here. I just arrived about an hour ago to my host family's house. It's a HUGE and GORGEOUS apartment! I have my own room and it's basically my dream bedroom lol La mia mamma italiana, Maria Pia, and her daughters, Livia (19yrs) & Agnese (16yrs) seem so lovely and I can tell we'll quickly become a family. Oh, I even have a dog named Pongo (but he's really annoying).
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