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.

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.

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.

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.

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!