I don’t want this blog to be only descriptions of spaghetti and walks along the Ponte Vecchio (that’s not to say there won’t be plenty such descriptions) but relate everything about my life abroad, good and bad.
This past week I’ve learned that in NYC I took transportation for granted. There was once a time when all I had to do was put up my hand, and a taxi would magically appear. Or, I could take the subway, which came every 5 minutes! And ran 24 hours a day!
Here, in contrast, buses, the only form of public transportation, stop running at around 11:00 p.m. I live in the southeast part of the city, a forty-minute walk from the center. On Friday night I went to a pub near Santa Croce with a few of my new friends and left around 1:30 a.m. I knew that there would be no buses, but I did not know that there would be no taxis! Yes, my first night out in Firenze happened to coincide with a taxi strike. I had not choice but to walk home, along the Arno, which let me tell you is CREEPY AT 2:00 a.m. I have an over-active imagination so of course spent the whole walk wondering if the person who murdered me would dump my lifeless body in the Arno, or alternatively, chop me up, and then dump me in the Arno.
Another not so great part of my week…fainting in the Palazzo Strozzi. On Wednesday I took a tour of this palace, now a museum, with my History and Anthropology class. Within a five-minute timespan, the room began to spin, and I had no choice but to plop on the floor, where I’d been standing! Before I left the museum, I fainted again, and fainted twice the next day.
But I am quite the optimist. Yes, it was terrifying, but my mysterious illness (which would not remain mysterious for long) was not without its perks:
1. My signora called the doctor, who made a house call! Yes, a house call! I felt as if I was a heroine in a nineteenth century novel. (In case you’re wondering, the doctor told me the cause was low blood pressure and after taking medicine I felt completely better. But what caused the low blood pressure in the first place remains a mystery.)
2. Speaking of novels, I fainted about five minutes from Piazza della Signoria, where Lucy Honeychurch faints in A Room With A View!
3. The Doctor is probably right that I have low blood pressure, but I like to think it was Florence’s own Stendhal Syndrome, which is much more interesting…http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stendhal_syndrome
I promised in my last entry to discuss my host family, Giovanna and Piero. They are a retired couple in their late sixties/early seventies, and are the sweetest people! They’ve been hosting students for fifteen years, and host three students every year (so I suppose I’m their forty-fifth host daughter. I have a lot to live up to!) Because they hardly speak a word of English, my Italian has improved a lot since I’ve been at their house.
My room has a lot of character (i.e. a painting of Madonna and child over my bed!) and while my window does not have a gorgeous view, the view from the living room and kitchen is of rolling Tuscan hills, sprinkled with villas. (Apparently one of these villas belongs to Sting!)
I don't think I'll be able to go back to Barnard housing after this
The food is AMAZING. Everything is homemade, and there are always three or four courses. We start off with pasta or soup, then have a meat dish along with some sort of vegetable or salad, and finish with dessert (which has either been cake or clementines and chocolate.) The clementines are the most delicious I’ve ever had – five times as sweet as they are in the U.S., and never any seeds. Giovanna often gives me a clementine or two to take to school to have for una merenda, an afternoon snack. (Do I feel as if I’m in kindergarten? Yes. Do I love it? Yes.)
Dinners last about an hour to an hour and a half. We talk about American movies and actors (Giovanna’s celebrity crush is Marlon Brando, Piero’s is Sharon Stone) travel, and Italian food. Giovanna and Piero are always recommending gelaterias, telling us what Italian city we must visit on the next nice weekend, or explaining the different kinds of Italian cheese. They call us bambini (children). By the way, us refers to my housemates and I. Nicole and Michelle share the room next to mine, go to Syracuse University in Florence, and are very nice!
The neighborhood is all Italians and no tourists. While being near the center of the city would have been convenient, here, far away from the city center (although still in the city, not the suburbs) I can talk to shopkeepers in Italian and they will respond in Italian, which does not happen in the city center, where they often respond in English.
Yesterday I took a walk and discovered that I live a block away an amazing gelato shop, Sorriso Gelato (Sorriso, appropriately, means "smile.) While exploring the neighborhood I came across a street called “Via del Paradiso,” Street of Paradise. With a name like that, I had to investigate. The steep street is bordered by a stone wall that looks as if it is (and very well might be) Roman ruins. The street was quiet, except for the occasional old lady ambling by, (think, Strega Nona) or the sound of a rooster. The view from the top was incredible! I turned around after twenty minutes but plan to return.
The view from Via del Paradiso
A house on Via del Paradiso
Today after class I stopped with a few friends at Mehkadeh LiberiaCafe for hot chocolate so rich you needed a spoon for the pieces of dark chocolate that had sunk to the bottom. I can see this becoming an after-school tradition! (Except for the fact that it was 3 euros, or a little over $4.00 - yikes.) I ordered the Fondente, but will be returning to try the other three flavours: gianduja, orange, and mint.
Hot Chocolate Fondente
Ciao for now! Below are a few more pictures of what I did this week.
The Teatro della Pergola, where I saw a classical music concert last night.
The Ponte Vecchio
