Okay, so don't mind my horrible play on words for the title of this post...just accept the fact that I'm a nerd who would come up with such a title. Anyway, my shortened version of the trip: Prague was absolutely gorgeous, and is definitely high up on my list of most beautiful places I've ever been to. I think you definitely need to put this city on your list of places to visit sometime in your life.
Check out the pictures here:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014614&l=f1c6b&id=3901306
And here's the rest of them:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014616&l=ac12b&id=3901306
Okay so now for the long story. Actually I may try to keep this as quick as possible because I've been going to bed late recently and it's already 11:37pm here. Well, on Thursday night Keshia and I packed our bags and headed to the Ferrovia (the train station). We had a really yummy quick dinner at a restaurant right next to the station, and then, after clearing up the confusion as to which train we were getting on (it was labelled "Vienna" but really ended in Prague), found our little sleeper cabin. It was rather tiny, with two couch-bench things, and then two fold-down couch-bench things really high up. We were told to sleep up on the top ones and not on the bottom ones. This'll be important later. Once the train got underway, and after both of us got over our initial excitement of being in an overnight train for the first time, we decided to be good students and do our homework. So Keshia worked on a 5-7 page paper on racism for her Segregation and Apartheid class, and I laid down with a book called "A Short History of Venice", which is only 127 pages long, but you'd think it was 500 by the amount of time it took me to finish it. Actually I'm still not done with it. Anyway, the point is, I read about 20 pages and took a nice snooze. Once I decided I wasn't going to fool myself by pretending I was working anymore, I climbed the rickety metal ladder and "made my bed" with the sheet-like thing (it's actually a queen sheet sewn together to make a sort of sleeping bag) and a rather dirty fleece blanket, and a miniature square pillow (half the size of an airplane pillow). After managing to wriggle my way into my sheet sleeping bag thing (which took about 10 minutes, I kid you not), I noted that if I moved about half an inch to my right, I'd fall right off the "bed" onto the floor a good 5 and a half feet below me (to say nothing of the ladder I'd hit on my way down). Needless to say, I didn't sleep very much for the first half of the night. Around 4AM, both of us woke up from an unidentifiable bump on the tracks (suicidal cow perhaps?), and we decided that the German train lady was clearly not thinking about our physical and mental safety when she told us we couldn't sleep on the bottom couchettes that looked exactly like the top ones only closer to the floor. After dragging ourselves out of our comfy warm cocoons, we re-made our beds on the bottom bunks, and slept much more soundly until 7am when German Train Lady banged on our door and yelled "PASSPORT CONTROL!" Then all of a sudden two uniformed, unsmiling German men appeared in our bleary eyesight demanding to see our Papers. Somehow my confused morning brain translated that into passport, and after fishing around in my bag for it, I handed it to them. They scrutinized the picture, opened it to a blank page (why can't passport control people stamp in an orderly fashion?), and put a smudgy unidentifiable mark passed off as a stamp on it. Then our passports were shoved back at us, and we were just about to lie back down again when German Train Lady came back with "breakfast": two crunchy white rolls (although they had really soft middles), a little packet of hot pink "strawberry jam", and the largest pat of butter I've ever seen in my life, accompanied with burnt tea and weak coffee. I say weak because after getting used to Italian coffee, I'm pretty sure even Starbucks will taste like water. But, by this time in the morning, it had been a whole 12 hours without eating anything, so Keshia and I ate up rather quickly in the hopes of resuming our lovely nap (we weren't scheduled to arrive in Prague til 11, afterall). Unfortunately, German Train Lady appeared just as we were contemplating the best position to maximize comfort, and grabbed our sheets, blankets, and pillows. She was followed this time by the Czech passport control people, who were just as silent and unfriendly as the German ones. And they were just as bad at placing their stamp in an organized spot. You'd think they wouldn't want to have to hunt for a spot in my passport in a few trips from now, but I guess it keeps their job interesting. Anyway, we settled back into our paper/reading routine until we finally reached Prague, 14 hours after our voyage began.
When we first got to the train station, we noticed that everything in Prague is only labelled in Czech. This is very helpful since obviously Czech is a common world language and everybody who's anybody knows how to speak fluent Czech. We weren't the only Americans wandering around aimlessly, hopelessly searching for something resembling an ATM machine. When we finally found one (and it actually had an English option on the screen! shocking!), I decided to pull out 2000 Czech Koruny, which amounts to roughly $100US. The very intelligent machine spat out one 2000 Koruny bill, which more than annoyed the metro ticket man when I wanted to pay for a 300 Koruny 3-day ticket. Fortunately, the Prague metro is extremely easy to figure out, and our hostel was fairly close to a metro stop. (Random aside: I've noticed my English is turning into European English-- the English of non-native speakers. An example? Somehow I can't stop saying "metro" instead of "subway." My vocabulary has taken a beating this year, between Australia and Europe!) Okay back to my story. We checked into Hostel U Melonou (which apparently means Hostel Watermelon in Czech), dropped our bags off, washed our faces and brushed our teeth, set off in search of Prague Castle. We got off at the right metro stop, and were so excited about finding the Charles Bridge (it was built in the 1300s) that we accidentally crossed it and went the complete opposite direction. It wasn't all a hopeless situation though: we did want to go to the Old Town anyway, so we simply reversed our schedule. Oh, a word about the weather: it was FREEZING in Prague. In fact, we had snow flurries most of the first day and freezing rain the second, so I'm in full winter garb for most of the pictures. Okay back to the Charles Bridge now. We saw the Astronomical Tower, which was cool because supposedly the 12 apostles come out of the clock and do a little dance or something every hour. We kept trying to catch it all weekend, and finally were able to see it the last hour before we left on Sunday. Keshia and I decided it was just a tourist trap, because something sort of came out and blew a trumpet or something, and then went back in through the door it came out of. Actually it was so quick that while I was trying to take a picture of it, I ended up missing it altogether. Once we decided the clock was a lost cause, we moved on and saw Tyn Church and St. Nicholas Church (of which there are two, and I'm still not sure which one we saw). Both were very pretty, and we found it kind of strange that there are so many beautiful churches in a country where half of the population is atheist and the other half are (mostly) non-practicing Christians, Muslims, and Jews. Anyway, we also walked through Josefov, which is the old Jewish quarter. We found a really good dinner restaurant there, where I decided to be adventurous and try local food. I had steak (yummmm BEEF), but it was literally swimming in a goopy sauce that I have no idea what it was made of, and accompanied by cranberries, cut-out pieces of bread (called "dumplings"), and, strangest of all, whipped cream. It didn't taste as bad as it sounds, but it's not something where I'd die unhappy if I never ate it again. Dessert, however, was awesome: a crepe with fresh fruit and ice cream. It reminded me of the crepes I had in Cairns with Mel, but this one was even better. After dinner we saw a Black Light Show, which apparently is very popular there among tourists. It was called Aspects of Alice, and supposedly followed Alice after she left Wonderland. It was without a doubt the strangest show I've ever seen in my life. Most of the tricks were cool, in the sense that they had lots of props and people floating in the air without cables (they were lifted up on poles attached to the backs of their clothing, and the poles couldn't be seen because it was really dark except for the things glowing in the black light), but I didn't get much of the plot, other than right at the end Alice got married and then had a baby which I think died. All I got out of it was how weird the Czech people are, because it was filled with random nudity that was totally unnecessary. For example, in the background they had a screen that had really random projected images on it, like faces and cars etc. Sometimes it was just naked female bodies. Very strange. We decided we could've done without seeing that show, and went back to the hostel and went straight to bed.
Saturday morning we got up bright and early and actually made it to Prague Castle before 9am, when everything opens there. We walked around and took a lot of pictures, and then went into the cathedral and the interior of the castle before we had to leave to meet our tour group for the lunch cruise. The food on the cruise was pretty good, although they definitely didn't have enough meat (the dishes ran out quickly and weren't refilled), but Keshia and I managed to stuff ourselves anyway and we took some really pretty pictures of the city. Then we decided to go back to the hostel because we had to be at the opera house before the show started at 7. We saw Candide, which is an American musical by Leonard Bernstein (the man who did West Side Story), except the music was in English and the narration and most of the speaking was in Czech. They did have a subtitle machine at the top of the stage, but at one point they had Czech up there while the characters were speaking Czech and English while they were singing in English, so they weren't very helpful. Also, hearing English being sung by Czechs is extremely difficult to understand. And lo and behold, they also had random nude women!!! I'm pretty sure that Bernstein didn't write in any parts for naked women on Broadway back in the 1950s, so I think it's just a Czech oddity. Nudity aside, I found the play enjoyable, even though it was a little confusing because of the language thing.
On Sunday morning we got up bright and early, after remembering to change our clock the night before because of Daylight Savings, ate a quick breakfast, checked out, stored our bags, and headed straight for Prague Castle so that we could finish what we had paid for on our ticket the day before. We saw St. George's Church, which was pretty, and then walked through Golden Lane, which used to be where the peasants that worked in the castle lived. Later it was considered popular to live and work in these tiny houses (and by tiny I mean tiny-- I hit my head on most of the doorframes!), and Franz Kafka worked in a bright blue one in the 1930s. Most of them are shops and museums now though. Then we made our way back down the Old Royal Steps for the last time, and visited two synagogues, the first of which is a museum that has the history of the Jews in Prague, and the second is dedicated to the people who were killed during the Holocaust. Both of them were very old beautiful buildings, and it was cool to see inside a synagogue instead of more churches for a change. The Holocaust has always interested me, and I've read survivor stories since before 4th grade even, so the second synagogue was especially fascinating to me. All the walls were covered floor to ceiling with names and birth and death dates for people killed by the Nazis who were just from the Prague area. The handwriting was only as tall as my thumbs are wide, and to see that many names written, and the enormous amount of space they take up, is really sobering. It's one thing to know facts and numbers, and quite another to have a visual of them. The really interesting part of the exhibit though were the drawings made by children, ages 5-15, who lived in the Terezin ghetto before being deported to concentration camps. They were beautiful and contained such meaningful and grown-up themes, and there were more than 4000 of them. A few had pictures of the children next to them, and sadly most of them never returned. On our way out of the exhibit we had to pass through the Old Jewish Cemetery, which in some places is 12 layers deep because the Jews weren't allowed to bury their dead anywhere else in the city. I heard a guide tell a tour group that during WWII, the cemetery was very important because it was the only "playground" children could use, and it became a central meeting point for friends, families, and lovers. It's hard to picture little kids playing hide-and-go-seek between crumbly tombstones that are centuries old. After leaving Josefov (the Jewish Quarter, which was the only ghetto to not be destroyed by the Nazis-- they planned to leave it as a "museum of an extinct race"), we finally managed to catch that darn astronomical clock in time to see it, although both of us were rather disappointed. Then it was time to go to the airport, and we said goodbye to Prague. The airplane was wonderful-- I had a whole 3 seats to myself, so naturally I stretched out and fell asleep. I was only sad that it was only an hour ride. Once we reached Venice, we spent an extra 4 hours getting from the airport to San Servolo, because of full ferries and annoying timetables, but we finally got home, exhausted, and I definitely went straight to sleep.
Yesterday and today I met Carynne and Annie, girls from Williams, in Piazza San Marco and had the opportunity to show them around Venice a bit. It was good to see them, because I haven't really kept in touch much with many Williams students (well, other than the occasional facebook message). I'm trying to get more motivated and send out postcards, but I sent out a bunch last semester and only got one back (from Carynne). In Venice news, I don't have much of interest to report, other than I have a rather long list of complaints that will be written up in a formal letter and sent to both Duke and Williams at the end of the semester. I haven't added Massimo to that list, but his behavior towards me (and Margaret in his first class) could definitely be charged as sexual harrassment if he were a professor in the States. I don't know about you, but I don't like having my professor put his hands on my shoulders and his chin on the top of my head while he's staring down at what I'm working on during class. Spanish Guy also has kept picking on me lately-- although definitely in a better way. He's made mention of my papers in class several times now, and I'm the only one he's singling out. I think that's a good thing, but it also brings his attention, and I'm also the only one he calls on outright, even though I'm not the only one who doesn't participate voluntarily often (I'm not even the only American student to be quiet in those classes, so it's not like he's picking on me because I'm a native speaker). He just wants to hear my opinion on everything, but as Ofer (an Israeli student) has pointed out, I turn red, my voice gets shaky, and I stammer a lot whenever I speak in class. Ofer thinks it's funny, but I'm really thinking it's not. It makes me miss Williams classes where professors are sensitive to nervous people and graciously let you participate in other ways. I also have to pay Orla (the program director) a visit, because another student told me that Orla told her that if a professor mostly assigns A's to students in his or her class, she will go through and even out the grades so there are an even number of A's, B's, and C's. Judging from the fact that I'm taking three literature classes, and I know one of my fortes is writing good papers, if I get anything less than all A's I'm going to be incredibly angry. Actually maybe I'll e-mail her instead of talk to her in person, because if I have that answer in writing then I can prove to Duke and Williams that my grades are less than what I deserve. Genius ideas like that come to me at 1AM. That is why I don't start papers until the middle of the night the day that they're due. But I digress. That's just one in a list of many rumors I need her to clear up for me, because arbitrarily assigning grades is not okay. Especially not when this Duke transcript will be seen by graduate schools. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I've written an entire book in this entry, and you're all probably really bored or have given up on reading it. Plus I'm really tired and have yet to finish reading that darn so-called Short History of Venice book, so I'm going to go lie down on my bed and have nice happy dreams of my trip to Salzburg and Munich in two weeks!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
It can only look up from here....right?
Somehow I recall saying that phrase earlier in the semester, and quite obviously I was proven wrong. Well I'll be optimistic and hope that the rest of the semester goes a lot smoother than this first bit has gone. I went to the police station today and filed a report about my stolen cash. I've got a copy (actually the policeman gave me the original) so I can ship a copy of that off to Duke soon. I'm trying to encourage other kids to come forward and make police reports, because the more people I talk to the more stories I hear of things being stolen, and in particular on the days the cleaning ladies come. For now I've locked up anything remotely valuable in my huge green suitcase, and if they try to move it back to the top of the closet again I'll have to come up with something clever to do like booby-trap it or something. I'm open to suggestions.
In other news, on Saturday I went with Keshia, Margaret, Megan, and Chen to Padua (Chen is an Israeli girl....her name isn't pronounced "ch" as in "chocolate" though; it's more of a gutteral "h" sound, like the "h" part of the "hokay, so, here is the earth..." impression that I do. But for most of you that isn't very helpful. Sorry. Suffice it to say that it's not a sound that exists in either the English, Spanish, or Italian languages). As soon as we got there, we realized that the city is HORRIBLY marked, and the signs don't actually point to where you need to go (even moreso than Venice, which is pretty impressive). Anyway, we had these sights on our to-see list: Basilica di San Antonio, a garden of some sort whose name escapes me at the moment, and (my personal contribution to the list) the university where Galileo taught. The fact that I was really eager to see that made me think that maybe I'm a little more like dad than I care to admit. Sorry dad. Anyway, Margaret and Megan, the two superCatholic girls of our group, had to leave around lunchtime, so we made the Basilica our first stop. First we saw a really cool palazzo that used to hold an enormous market, with a few really random things inside it (like a meridian line, an enormous wooden horse that some claim as the Trojan horse, and a punitive stone where thieves were made to sit bare-bottomed three times while repeating something to the effect of "I repent of my sins" and then were banished from the city). I told you they were random. Then, as we continued on our way to a building we saw in the distance and thought it must be the basilica, we passed through their open-air market of shoes. I think all of us except Chen bought shoes. I got some really cute red boat shoes that are really comfortable, and made my day a lot brighter (literally). The saying about buying shoes being theraputic is so true. When we finally were able to tear ourselves away from cheap (price, not quality) leather shoes, we crossed a really cool mini-park filled with Roman-esque statues glaring down at us and arrived at the entrance to the enormous church we had seen in the distance. Turns out it wasn't the Basilica di San Antonio, but some other church. The basilica was in the opposite direction. After walking in circles a bit more, we managed to find it. The most noteworthy part of this church was Saint Anthony's tongue, jaw, and vocal chords displayed in a gold shrine behind glass. I didn't know vocal chords looked like mini-intestines. And let me tell you, seeing a shriveled tongue that was hundreds of years old was almost the second coolest thing about that day, other than my red shoes. I'm totally serious too. After walking around and admiring the paintings and mosaics a bit more, we made our way out and tried to locate il Bo, the original building of the University of Padua. Around 2pm, Chen, Keshia and I decided we could not continue without getting some food in our bellies, and Megan and Margaret decided to go back to Venice to get some work done. After an enormous 7 euro lunch of an entire pizza, a bottle of water, and a coffee each, we set out determinedly to find il Bo. On the way we managed to walk past a sign that said "Casa di Galileo Galilei." We stood there trying to figure out what exactly was his house, because it was pointing at a graffitied, semi-modern appartment building that definitely was being lived in. I took a picture of the sign, so if any of you can figure out where Galileo lived let me know. Finally, after literally hours of wandering in circles, we managed to find il Bo-- a building we had passed at least 4 or 5 times, and is apparently labelled very helpfully "Gimnasio". Chen and I were rather sad that we didn't make it there in the morning, because the classroom where he taught has been kept the same and is still used, but only open to visitors in the mornings. We managed to sneak into another classroom and take a picture or two, but it would've been much cooler to see Galileo's classroom. Once we finished gawking at all of the stone plaques (which someone suggested were medieval "yearbooks") and paintings on the walls, we made our way slowly back to the train station. We stopped in the Giardino dell'Arena, a garden that has grown out of some ancient Roman arena ruins, and took some pretty awesome pictures. Oh, before we got to the garden we went back to that first church, which, we learned, has Luke's original casket on display. It was a very pretty church too. I found it kind of ironic that Margaret and Megan were so eager to find Saint Anthony that they missed Luke in the process. Anyway, overall, it was a very good day and Padua is definitely someplace worth re-visiting. If I have time later in the semester I may try to go back.
On Monday I had to give my oral presentation about Boca in Italian class, which was oh-so-much fun, let me tell you. I'm just glad that Massimo didn't say anything about me reading off of my paper, because I was shaking by the time my two and a half minutes were up. My academic goal in life is to be invisible, and usually I'm rather good at it. I don't know why the professors here haven't picked up on that yet. For example, today in Spanish guy's Tourism class, we had a two-page paper due, and we always go around our semi-circle and discuss what we wrote. I always sit in the center but off to the left side, calculated precisely so that I cannot be called on to begin because I don't sit in a logical place to start from. Except for today, because as soon as Quintana sat down, he looked straight at me and said "CHRISTINA! Why don't YOU start us off today? What similar thoughts about travel did Edward Gibbon, Goethe, and George Sand have?" I don't know what it is about the professors at this school, but I have been getting way more attention from all of them than I care to have. I guess I prefer speaking in the Spanish guy's classes though; at least he doesn't creep up behind me and breathe down my neck like Massimo does. I swear the only way of knowing he's there is because he always smells like cigarette smoke. If he didn't smoke I'd be completely freaked out all the time because he's really good at being sneaky.
I'm really excited about tomorrow though-- Keshia and I are going to Prague for the weekend! We got really cheap tickets to go to the opera, although Candide, a musical, not an opera, is playing. At least it's in English. I realized the other day that it's really rare for me to go to a place where I can't even fudge my way through "hello" and "thank you" in the local language. This semester will be an adventure, because between Prague, Austria, Germany, Budapest, and Croatia, I definitely won't know what I'm eating in the restaurants or seeing at the museums!
Okay so pictures from Padua:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014447&l=ea3e5&id=3901306
And now it's bedtime, or I'll never wake up in time to wash my hair and pack. Look for a really exciting update maybe on Sunday night!
In other news, on Saturday I went with Keshia, Margaret, Megan, and Chen to Padua (Chen is an Israeli girl....her name isn't pronounced "ch" as in "chocolate" though; it's more of a gutteral "h" sound, like the "h" part of the "hokay, so, here is the earth..." impression that I do. But for most of you that isn't very helpful. Sorry. Suffice it to say that it's not a sound that exists in either the English, Spanish, or Italian languages). As soon as we got there, we realized that the city is HORRIBLY marked, and the signs don't actually point to where you need to go (even moreso than Venice, which is pretty impressive). Anyway, we had these sights on our to-see list: Basilica di San Antonio, a garden of some sort whose name escapes me at the moment, and (my personal contribution to the list) the university where Galileo taught. The fact that I was really eager to see that made me think that maybe I'm a little more like dad than I care to admit. Sorry dad. Anyway, Margaret and Megan, the two superCatholic girls of our group, had to leave around lunchtime, so we made the Basilica our first stop. First we saw a really cool palazzo that used to hold an enormous market, with a few really random things inside it (like a meridian line, an enormous wooden horse that some claim as the Trojan horse, and a punitive stone where thieves were made to sit bare-bottomed three times while repeating something to the effect of "I repent of my sins" and then were banished from the city). I told you they were random. Then, as we continued on our way to a building we saw in the distance and thought it must be the basilica, we passed through their open-air market of shoes. I think all of us except Chen bought shoes. I got some really cute red boat shoes that are really comfortable, and made my day a lot brighter (literally). The saying about buying shoes being theraputic is so true. When we finally were able to tear ourselves away from cheap (price, not quality) leather shoes, we crossed a really cool mini-park filled with Roman-esque statues glaring down at us and arrived at the entrance to the enormous church we had seen in the distance. Turns out it wasn't the Basilica di San Antonio, but some other church. The basilica was in the opposite direction. After walking in circles a bit more, we managed to find it. The most noteworthy part of this church was Saint Anthony's tongue, jaw, and vocal chords displayed in a gold shrine behind glass. I didn't know vocal chords looked like mini-intestines. And let me tell you, seeing a shriveled tongue that was hundreds of years old was almost the second coolest thing about that day, other than my red shoes. I'm totally serious too. After walking around and admiring the paintings and mosaics a bit more, we made our way out and tried to locate il Bo, the original building of the University of Padua. Around 2pm, Chen, Keshia and I decided we could not continue without getting some food in our bellies, and Megan and Margaret decided to go back to Venice to get some work done. After an enormous 7 euro lunch of an entire pizza, a bottle of water, and a coffee each, we set out determinedly to find il Bo. On the way we managed to walk past a sign that said "Casa di Galileo Galilei." We stood there trying to figure out what exactly was his house, because it was pointing at a graffitied, semi-modern appartment building that definitely was being lived in. I took a picture of the sign, so if any of you can figure out where Galileo lived let me know. Finally, after literally hours of wandering in circles, we managed to find il Bo-- a building we had passed at least 4 or 5 times, and is apparently labelled very helpfully "Gimnasio". Chen and I were rather sad that we didn't make it there in the morning, because the classroom where he taught has been kept the same and is still used, but only open to visitors in the mornings. We managed to sneak into another classroom and take a picture or two, but it would've been much cooler to see Galileo's classroom. Once we finished gawking at all of the stone plaques (which someone suggested were medieval "yearbooks") and paintings on the walls, we made our way slowly back to the train station. We stopped in the Giardino dell'Arena, a garden that has grown out of some ancient Roman arena ruins, and took some pretty awesome pictures. Oh, before we got to the garden we went back to that first church, which, we learned, has Luke's original casket on display. It was a very pretty church too. I found it kind of ironic that Margaret and Megan were so eager to find Saint Anthony that they missed Luke in the process. Anyway, overall, it was a very good day and Padua is definitely someplace worth re-visiting. If I have time later in the semester I may try to go back.
On Monday I had to give my oral presentation about Boca in Italian class, which was oh-so-much fun, let me tell you. I'm just glad that Massimo didn't say anything about me reading off of my paper, because I was shaking by the time my two and a half minutes were up. My academic goal in life is to be invisible, and usually I'm rather good at it. I don't know why the professors here haven't picked up on that yet. For example, today in Spanish guy's Tourism class, we had a two-page paper due, and we always go around our semi-circle and discuss what we wrote. I always sit in the center but off to the left side, calculated precisely so that I cannot be called on to begin because I don't sit in a logical place to start from. Except for today, because as soon as Quintana sat down, he looked straight at me and said "CHRISTINA! Why don't YOU start us off today? What similar thoughts about travel did Edward Gibbon, Goethe, and George Sand have?" I don't know what it is about the professors at this school, but I have been getting way more attention from all of them than I care to have. I guess I prefer speaking in the Spanish guy's classes though; at least he doesn't creep up behind me and breathe down my neck like Massimo does. I swear the only way of knowing he's there is because he always smells like cigarette smoke. If he didn't smoke I'd be completely freaked out all the time because he's really good at being sneaky.
I'm really excited about tomorrow though-- Keshia and I are going to Prague for the weekend! We got really cheap tickets to go to the opera, although Candide, a musical, not an opera, is playing. At least it's in English. I realized the other day that it's really rare for me to go to a place where I can't even fudge my way through "hello" and "thank you" in the local language. This semester will be an adventure, because between Prague, Austria, Germany, Budapest, and Croatia, I definitely won't know what I'm eating in the restaurants or seeing at the museums!
Okay so pictures from Padua:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014447&l=ea3e5&id=3901306
And now it's bedtime, or I'll never wake up in time to wash my hair and pack. Look for a really exciting update maybe on Sunday night!
Friday, March 16, 2007
As if this week couldn't get any worse
Someone stole 230 euros out of my wallet, and there's no way of finding out who it was or of getting it back. I give up, can I come home now?
But I just want to do my laundry...
Today is Friday. On Fridays, Venice International University has been kind enough to grant us the day off from classes. For most, this means sleeping in, missing breakfast, and enjoying waking up slowly at whatever time you want. Or, getting up superearly to go on some exciting adventure outside of Venice. For Saki and me, this means waking up at the crack of dawn (okay, 8 o'clock) because the cleaning ladies have posted a sign on our door saying we MUST BE OUT OF THE ROOM BY 9AM OR IT WILL NOT BE CLEANED. Some may think that a room can go two weeks without being cleaned, and sometimes I am of this opinion also, but when this includes your towel and your toilet paper rations, it is imperative to be out of the room before they arrive. As it is, Saki and I could easily have been toilet paper thieves in another life. We're stealthy. Anyway, I digress. So I woke up this morning and went down to breakfast at 8:30 with my book, expecting to read a few chapters while relaxing over breakfast, go back up to my clean room around 9:30 or so, and go to Palazzino 12 (another building) to do my laundry while doing homework and mending my shirt, which had lost a button a few weeks ago. That was the plan, anyway. I made it down to breakfast with my book, and then was joined by Margaret and Cassie, so I sat there til almost 10, talking with them. Then I went up to my room. It was still dirty. Annoyance #1. I figured well, it's okay, I still have to do laundry. So I grabbed my overflowing basket, my rather slim wallet, detergent and a book and make my way over to Palazzino 12. I sing hallelujah's when I get there because both washers are empty. Since I only have one 2 euro coin with me at the moment, I fill up one washer with two pairs of jeans and two weeks' worth of underwear, drop the coin in, and press start. Then I take out my 20 euro bill and go to Reception, where I know the oh-so-kind ladies there have changed money for my friends before. NO WE DON'T CHANGE MONEY CHECK THE BAR. Okay thank you very much. So I go to the bar, where again NO I HAVE NO CHANGE. O...k....so now what? I wander over to the coffee machine, thinking that it'll surely give me change if I put in a 20. Too bad it only accepts bills that are less than 10. So I march all the way back to the building at the other end of the island, thinking that surely by 11 o'clock my room's been completely cleaned and the ladies are done so I can figure out where to get change from. As soon as I walked in the door, I heard three women screaming in Italian. Somehow it didn't surprise me when I reached the top of the stairs and found the cleaning lady yelling with two of her superiors, and then at me when I tried to get in my room (I figured she was finished since she had so much spare time to get into arguments with people). At this point I discovered that there was something rather irritating right in the center of my eye, and I could see it because it was covering my pupil but I couldn't manage to poke it out. I knocked on Keshia and Caitlin's door, hoping that maybe one of them could give me some change, and thankfully Keshia had two ten euro bills. I tried using her bathroom mirror to get rid of the fuzz in my eye, but the lighting in our bathrooms is so poor that it was a hopeless cause. I thanked her profusely for her change and stumbled down the stairs and back to the building with the bar to try to change it again. As soon as the lady saw me walk up to her, I saw the smile fade from her face, and knew that I'd have to change tactics if I was going to get anything from her. So I ordered a chocolate croissant, thinking that I could at least save it for tomorrow since we'll be out on the first vaporetto and breakfast won't be open yet. She gave me my change with a scowl and shoved the croissant at me, but I was elated because FINALLY I had two more 2-euro coins. Of course, what I really needed was one 2-euro one and two 1-euro coins, because the drying machine only costs 1 euro (for all of 10 minutes of drying) and conveniently doesn't give change. I figured going back to ask the lady for some one euro coins wasn't the best idea, so I settled for the idea of having crunchy underwear and jeans for the next few weeks. When I returned after making a small, successful detour to the bathroom to poke the fuzz out of my eye for good, my laundry was waiting for me. I began taking it out and hanging it on the drying racks, when I noticed little bits of paper on everything I was pulling out. Now that is something I am paranoid about. I hate it when I wash things and they come out still dirty, so I check and double check my pants' pockets before putting them in the wash. Well, I check the front pockets, because I never use the back pockets. Except for last weekend in Milan, when I put my subway ticket in my back pocket to be able to find it easily. It was my own fault, but by this time I was ready to at least maim some pigeons out of frustration. Once I finished hanging all my "clean" clothes up, I set about doing my other load, which had my nice Lacoste shirts, a few Juicy shirts, and other nice brightly colored clothing. I always wash nice clothes on cold. Except this washing machine was stuck on setting 3, which was warm, and I didn't have a way of knowing that until the money was in and the machine was started, and once you push start on those ancient things, there's no going back. So I watched helplessly for several minutes as my nice clothes circled several times and then decided I didn't want to watch the expensive side of my wardrobe be mutilated, so I sewed my shirt button back on and came back to my room, which was finally cleaned. By now the wash should be done though, and I'd better run back over there before someone takes it all out and dumps it on the dirty floor. People here are so rude about laundry-- I finally found my two socks that were missing from last time I did laundry: someone had used both of them to wipe out the detergent slots, and then left them all crusty and goopy on top of the washers. I think I'll never complain about doing laundry at Williams again-- at least there the washers are big, the dryers go for 60 minutes, the machines are in the same building as you are, and they conveniently cost only $2.50 per complete load via a swipe card. Here I'm almost spending more on laundry than on trips, and I've got to make sure I've got 10 euros in 1 and 2 euro coins before lugging all my stuff over to the next building.
I think I may take a ride over to Piazza San Marco and see how much damage I can inflict on those pigeons after all...
I think I may take a ride over to Piazza San Marco and see how much damage I can inflict on those pigeons after all...
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Musings from a Madhouse
Musings from a sickhouse may be a more appropriate title. I've got a small mountain of dirty tissues beside my computer, and my aim at throwing multiple tissues into the garbage can four feet away from me is quickly improving. All I know is that I'd better stop coughing sometime soon or Mom'll be able to hear me in Florida. Everyone living in my house knows you're doomed if you've got a cough and you're within a 50 mile radius of her. I think the lack of nutritious food here really is starting to be a problem. Every once in a while I break down and eat the perfect square that they label "beef", and sometimes if I'm really lucky they have a piece of chicken breast that actually looks like it came from a live animal once. I've stopped eating pasta, and I'm working on giving up my croissant in the morning, but I know that once I do that I'll start getting really hungry during Massimo's class. Unfortunately, that man picks on me enough-- I don't need my angry stomach drawing more attention. I think I need more vegetables. Well, a greater variety of nutritious vegetables-- not potatoes and rubbery carrots. I'm just tired all the time, even when I shouldn't be, and my fingernails are getting flimsy and breaking (which is unusual, because I've always had really strong nails), and the worst part is I'm sick. The other night I woke up in the middle of the night and my entire body was shaking from cold. The only problem is we sleep with the window closed and the heater on because Saki has no body fat (I, on the other hand, need it to be a refreshing 70 degrees in my room to sleep comfortably). And when I woke up, I had on flannel pants, a sweatshirt, socks, and two heavy blankets! Usually I sleep in a tank top and pants with only the sheet on. As for sleeping all the time...well, on Monday I came back from my first Spanish guy class to take a short nap before my second one (I have two hours between those classes), and I woke up at 6pm. That's a problem, because my hour and a half long class ends at 6:30. This resulted in being picked on by the Spanish guy during yesterday's first class, but mercifully he left me alone during the second one. Maybe the fact that I turn red and squirm in my seat every time I'm called on gave him a little clue that I'm not a fan of being tortured. Oh well, at least I've only got two classes left and then I can spend tonight and tomorrow asleep in the hopes of recovering (well, with the rude interruption of the cleaning ladies at 9am tomorrow). Saturday the plan is to go to Padua and Verona. It's an ambitious plan, but as long as we get an early start it should be good. Last night I spent longer than I should've in planning the rest of the Prague trip, but it was semi-successful: we now have train tickets to get there, a hostel to stay in, and are in the final stages of booking airfare back. I wish Italian Expedia.com would cooperate and let us use a non-Italian credit card without having to call them up. But that is how the cookie crumbles.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Fashion, Food, Flowers, Fun....Feta?
Between travelling and schoolwork I've been super busy this past week or so!
On Wednesday night I ate dinner at Professor Chafe's apartment (the Duke professor for this semester...he's really nice, but I'm not in any of his classes because he teaches political history). We ate a variety of dishes from many different nationalities. I'm sorry I don't know the actual names of the dishes, but here's my go at it: Japanese chicken, Japanese pumpkin, Czech potato pancake-y looking things, German meat patties, and American pie for dessert. All of it was delicious. I'm hoping I can get the recipes for all of them, because I think they'd be good easy dishes to make at home too.
On Thursday I went with Keshia to see the Picasso exhibit. I had my first triumph here-- I spoke to the ticket lady in Italian, and she actually answered me in Italian!!! That's a big deal, because if they suspect you're a non-Italian tourist they always answer you in English. I was proud of myself. Actually my Italian has been improving a lot, although I must say it gets really confusing when I speak in Spanish at night and then have to switch to Italian the next morning! I think Massimo (my Italian professor...who seems to always pick on me) takes back his rule of speaking any language other than English in class whenever I speak, because he points out that quite a few of my words come out in Spanish instead of Italian. I must say though, he can't really do much about it because his rule was no English. He lets the Japanese kids speak Japanese in class, so why can't a few of my words slip out in Spanish? Oh right, I was talking about Picasso. Sorry for the tangent. Anyway, yeah Picasso was.....weird. I never was a fan of his work, but this exhibit was definitely strange. The only thing I was glad about (other than being answered in Italian) was the little book I got at the bookshop called Italia...Da Favola. It's a book of fairy tales set in different cities in Italy. Cinderella is the one set in Venice. I haven't read it yet, but I'm excited to get some free time sometime on a train ride or something soon.
On Friday morning, Keshia, Margaret, and I left on the 7:05am vaporetto to go to the train station. We caught a fairly early morning train to Milan, and arrived there just after lunchtime. We had no idea where we were going, so we took a taxi to the hotel, which ended up being rather close (although not quite walking distance) and definitely by a subway stop. We had a 3-person room with a bathroom on the third floor, and I was the only one out of the three of us that managed to figure out how the lock on the door worked. It was one of those old-fashioned keys with the huge heavy keychains so you leave them down at the front desk and then pick them up again when you return. Anyway, after dropping our stuff we set off in search of the Duomo via the subway system. When we reached the Duomo stop, we heard all this screaming that sounded like there was a rollercoaster right above us. Turns out we walked right into the middle of the Italian equivalent of TRL (that show on MTV where they count down the top 10 most popular songs for the day in Times Square). There were lots of screaming girls holding posters and chanting "Ricardo, Ricardo!" Not too sure who Ricardo was, but apparently he was popular. Once we managed to weave through all the bodies, we were able to get inside the Duomo. The church is enormous! It's beautiful from the outside and the inside, but the work on the outside of the church is so detailed it must've taken more than a hundred years to finish. We climbed the 165 winding, narrow stone steps to the top and took lots of pictures. Once we finished gawking at the Duomo we made our way to Castello Sforzesco, which was a medieval castle in the middle of the city, complete with (non-functioning) moat and all. It was really cool, except that the guy at the door literally shut the door in our faces after letting the people right in front of us enter. If we had been there two seconds earlier we would've been allowed in. Oh well, next time we'll be two seconds earlier. We still got some pretty good pictures from the outside. Then we walked around and looked at some stores, and ended up eating at a Greek restaurant (random, I know, but it was the only thing around the hotel and we weren't keen on the idea of taking the subway late at night). All three of us had salads which were really good. The next morning we checked out of the hotel at 7:30am, killed time by trying in vain to find good bargains on expensive brands, and then took the train to Bologna. The first thing we saw was a huge tower that was 500 steps to the top! Keshia and Margaret climbed it, but my feet were killing me from the walking we had done the day before and earlier that day in Milan, so I waited at the bottom on a random column thing. My butt was numb by the time they got back. Then we walked to the main square, where we saw a statue of Neptune, the Basilica di San Petronio, a rock living room set, and had some random Italian guys try to take pictures with us. That was odd. Anyway, we went to the Archeological Museum, where they have an exhaustive collection of broken pottery shards from Roman and Greek pots, and a really small but cool Egyptian mummy collection. Once our stomachs and feet couldn't take it anymore, we walked just out of the touristy area and found an amazing restaurant where we ate tomato and mozzerella salads followed by pizza. My pizza had cheese, onions, mushrooms, prosciutto, and a fried egg on it. Sooooo yummy! Then we leisurely made our way back to the train station and came back to Venice, arriving around midnight on Saturday night. It was a good weekend, but an exhausting one. Here are the pictures:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014256&l=f301d&id=3901306
On Sunday afternoon I had my interview of doom. I applied for a counselor position at Camp Wediko, a treatment program in New Hampshire for kids with severe emotional and behavioral problems. The interview was two hours long. The lady started with talking about the camp (since none of the important information about it was online), and then asked me a whole bunch of really hard questions. It felt more like an interrogation than an interview. Almost all the questions were "think of a time when.....and how did it make you feel?" I hate those kinds of questions. I don't think I'd even use them when I become a shrink. Plus, most of the questions were so vague. "Think of a time when you had to think on your feet and describe it." "Think of someone you have conflicting emotions about and tell me about your feelings." "How do you handle critical comments?" Then, just as I was thinking this couldn't get any worse, we got to the last part of the interview. She gave me two role-playing situations, where she was a child and I the counselor. The first scenario was she was a 14-year-old boy, and the two of us were walking to the lake from the cabin. She started with "are you gonna wear that bathing suit you wore yesterday? Cuz you looked fine in that bathing suit" and kept pushing the conversation towards boyfriends and sex. I just tried really hard to change topics, and it took a little while, but we ended up talking about boats and waterskiing. I counted that one a victory. The next one was she was an 8-year-old girl who wanted to tell me a secret but made me promise not to tell anyone. I of course didn't want to promise, because I could see where that was headed, but I didn't know how to get her to tell me what the secret was without doing so. Needless to say, I was very glad when that was all over with. I did ask the interviewer how much the salary was, because it wasn't on the website at all (hardly any information was), and it's 1400-1700 dollars for 45 days with the kids with only 5 days off and a week before and another one after the kids leave. She told me that most of the counselors go to bed and breakfasts and do the whole college scene thing on their days off. I'm thinking that is not where I want to spend my summer, especially since I'll have hardly any time at home and I can't afford to start off next semester already exhausted and drained. We'll see what they say in a few weeks, but if anyone hears of any open nanny/babysitting/housesitting/petsitting/basically anything jobs around Boca, let me know. Or any rich people who need a babysitter to travel with them. That'd be a nice job too.
Anyway, on Sunday night I met up with Julian and Monica Alonso, from Chile. They took me out to a really good restaurant (I've got a card from there for when Tia and Lelo come!) and I ate...STEAK!!!! And prosciutto, but I was so excited for the steak. It could've been a bit juicier, but it was delicious. Julian told me that he hasn't eaten fish here because Lelo told him what I learned about the rate of tumors because of the toxins in the water from Porto Marghera. I must say, it's not the worst thing in the world to eat only beef (and pork...but I'm not the biggest fan of pork really, unless it comes in prosciutto-form)!
Other than all that news, San Servolo is starting to look a little less like a prison since the flowers are starting to bloom. Keshia gave me her old roommate's automatic hot water kettle so I can make myself some tea whenever I want it. Oh, and we just booked the overnight train to Prague for the weekend of March 23! Keshia had to go to class so we'll have to get a flight back on that Sunday night and a hotel room sometime later. I'm excited to go though; it's someplace I've never been (imagine that!) and everyone's telling me it's supercheap. And of course, it's a beautiful city. Speaking of beautiful cities, we're thinking of changing our Easter plans from Switzerland to Salzburg and Munich. I think Jen was really the only one who really wanted to go to Switzerland, and since there's five of us, she's outnumbered. This upcoming weekend Keshia, Megan and I are going to do an intense one-day trip to both Padua and Verona. We want to see the university where Galileo was a professor, and of course we have to go to Juliet's house in Verona. They have a statue of her outside "her house" and people say that if you rub her right breast it'll bring you good luck in love. They also have a room in this house that's full of computers and you can e-mail Juliet. I found that pretty funny considering a) she's dead, and b) she never even existed. Oh well, it's worth seeing...after all, that's what being a tourist is all about, right?
Well, I'm off to grab a slice of yummy pizza in Campo Santa Margarita (I swear, this pizza shop is going to know us by name by the time this semester is over). I've got an excuse for getting pizza for dinner this time though-- I'm going to a Vivaldi concert in a church not far from there tonight and we can't go to dinner here or we'll miss the vaporetto to get to the concert on time. Pizza con salami it is! Or maybe con cipolla. Or funghi. Or prosciutto. Or....
On Wednesday night I ate dinner at Professor Chafe's apartment (the Duke professor for this semester...he's really nice, but I'm not in any of his classes because he teaches political history). We ate a variety of dishes from many different nationalities. I'm sorry I don't know the actual names of the dishes, but here's my go at it: Japanese chicken, Japanese pumpkin, Czech potato pancake-y looking things, German meat patties, and American pie for dessert. All of it was delicious. I'm hoping I can get the recipes for all of them, because I think they'd be good easy dishes to make at home too.
On Thursday I went with Keshia to see the Picasso exhibit. I had my first triumph here-- I spoke to the ticket lady in Italian, and she actually answered me in Italian!!! That's a big deal, because if they suspect you're a non-Italian tourist they always answer you in English. I was proud of myself. Actually my Italian has been improving a lot, although I must say it gets really confusing when I speak in Spanish at night and then have to switch to Italian the next morning! I think Massimo (my Italian professor...who seems to always pick on me) takes back his rule of speaking any language other than English in class whenever I speak, because he points out that quite a few of my words come out in Spanish instead of Italian. I must say though, he can't really do much about it because his rule was no English. He lets the Japanese kids speak Japanese in class, so why can't a few of my words slip out in Spanish? Oh right, I was talking about Picasso. Sorry for the tangent. Anyway, yeah Picasso was.....weird. I never was a fan of his work, but this exhibit was definitely strange. The only thing I was glad about (other than being answered in Italian) was the little book I got at the bookshop called Italia...Da Favola. It's a book of fairy tales set in different cities in Italy. Cinderella is the one set in Venice. I haven't read it yet, but I'm excited to get some free time sometime on a train ride or something soon.
On Friday morning, Keshia, Margaret, and I left on the 7:05am vaporetto to go to the train station. We caught a fairly early morning train to Milan, and arrived there just after lunchtime. We had no idea where we were going, so we took a taxi to the hotel, which ended up being rather close (although not quite walking distance) and definitely by a subway stop. We had a 3-person room with a bathroom on the third floor, and I was the only one out of the three of us that managed to figure out how the lock on the door worked. It was one of those old-fashioned keys with the huge heavy keychains so you leave them down at the front desk and then pick them up again when you return. Anyway, after dropping our stuff we set off in search of the Duomo via the subway system. When we reached the Duomo stop, we heard all this screaming that sounded like there was a rollercoaster right above us. Turns out we walked right into the middle of the Italian equivalent of TRL (that show on MTV where they count down the top 10 most popular songs for the day in Times Square). There were lots of screaming girls holding posters and chanting "Ricardo, Ricardo!" Not too sure who Ricardo was, but apparently he was popular. Once we managed to weave through all the bodies, we were able to get inside the Duomo. The church is enormous! It's beautiful from the outside and the inside, but the work on the outside of the church is so detailed it must've taken more than a hundred years to finish. We climbed the 165 winding, narrow stone steps to the top and took lots of pictures. Once we finished gawking at the Duomo we made our way to Castello Sforzesco, which was a medieval castle in the middle of the city, complete with (non-functioning) moat and all. It was really cool, except that the guy at the door literally shut the door in our faces after letting the people right in front of us enter. If we had been there two seconds earlier we would've been allowed in. Oh well, next time we'll be two seconds earlier. We still got some pretty good pictures from the outside. Then we walked around and looked at some stores, and ended up eating at a Greek restaurant (random, I know, but it was the only thing around the hotel and we weren't keen on the idea of taking the subway late at night). All three of us had salads which were really good. The next morning we checked out of the hotel at 7:30am, killed time by trying in vain to find good bargains on expensive brands, and then took the train to Bologna. The first thing we saw was a huge tower that was 500 steps to the top! Keshia and Margaret climbed it, but my feet were killing me from the walking we had done the day before and earlier that day in Milan, so I waited at the bottom on a random column thing. My butt was numb by the time they got back. Then we walked to the main square, where we saw a statue of Neptune, the Basilica di San Petronio, a rock living room set, and had some random Italian guys try to take pictures with us. That was odd. Anyway, we went to the Archeological Museum, where they have an exhaustive collection of broken pottery shards from Roman and Greek pots, and a really small but cool Egyptian mummy collection. Once our stomachs and feet couldn't take it anymore, we walked just out of the touristy area and found an amazing restaurant where we ate tomato and mozzerella salads followed by pizza. My pizza had cheese, onions, mushrooms, prosciutto, and a fried egg on it. Sooooo yummy! Then we leisurely made our way back to the train station and came back to Venice, arriving around midnight on Saturday night. It was a good weekend, but an exhausting one. Here are the pictures:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014256&l=f301d&id=3901306
On Sunday afternoon I had my interview of doom. I applied for a counselor position at Camp Wediko, a treatment program in New Hampshire for kids with severe emotional and behavioral problems. The interview was two hours long. The lady started with talking about the camp (since none of the important information about it was online), and then asked me a whole bunch of really hard questions. It felt more like an interrogation than an interview. Almost all the questions were "think of a time when.....and how did it make you feel?" I hate those kinds of questions. I don't think I'd even use them when I become a shrink. Plus, most of the questions were so vague. "Think of a time when you had to think on your feet and describe it." "Think of someone you have conflicting emotions about and tell me about your feelings." "How do you handle critical comments?" Then, just as I was thinking this couldn't get any worse, we got to the last part of the interview. She gave me two role-playing situations, where she was a child and I the counselor. The first scenario was she was a 14-year-old boy, and the two of us were walking to the lake from the cabin. She started with "are you gonna wear that bathing suit you wore yesterday? Cuz you looked fine in that bathing suit" and kept pushing the conversation towards boyfriends and sex. I just tried really hard to change topics, and it took a little while, but we ended up talking about boats and waterskiing. I counted that one a victory. The next one was she was an 8-year-old girl who wanted to tell me a secret but made me promise not to tell anyone. I of course didn't want to promise, because I could see where that was headed, but I didn't know how to get her to tell me what the secret was without doing so. Needless to say, I was very glad when that was all over with. I did ask the interviewer how much the salary was, because it wasn't on the website at all (hardly any information was), and it's 1400-1700 dollars for 45 days with the kids with only 5 days off and a week before and another one after the kids leave. She told me that most of the counselors go to bed and breakfasts and do the whole college scene thing on their days off. I'm thinking that is not where I want to spend my summer, especially since I'll have hardly any time at home and I can't afford to start off next semester already exhausted and drained. We'll see what they say in a few weeks, but if anyone hears of any open nanny/babysitting/housesitting/petsitting/basically anything jobs around Boca, let me know. Or any rich people who need a babysitter to travel with them. That'd be a nice job too.
Anyway, on Sunday night I met up with Julian and Monica Alonso, from Chile. They took me out to a really good restaurant (I've got a card from there for when Tia and Lelo come!) and I ate...STEAK!!!! And prosciutto, but I was so excited for the steak. It could've been a bit juicier, but it was delicious. Julian told me that he hasn't eaten fish here because Lelo told him what I learned about the rate of tumors because of the toxins in the water from Porto Marghera. I must say, it's not the worst thing in the world to eat only beef (and pork...but I'm not the biggest fan of pork really, unless it comes in prosciutto-form)!
Other than all that news, San Servolo is starting to look a little less like a prison since the flowers are starting to bloom. Keshia gave me her old roommate's automatic hot water kettle so I can make myself some tea whenever I want it. Oh, and we just booked the overnight train to Prague for the weekend of March 23! Keshia had to go to class so we'll have to get a flight back on that Sunday night and a hotel room sometime later. I'm excited to go though; it's someplace I've never been (imagine that!) and everyone's telling me it's supercheap. And of course, it's a beautiful city. Speaking of beautiful cities, we're thinking of changing our Easter plans from Switzerland to Salzburg and Munich. I think Jen was really the only one who really wanted to go to Switzerland, and since there's five of us, she's outnumbered. This upcoming weekend Keshia, Megan and I are going to do an intense one-day trip to both Padua and Verona. We want to see the university where Galileo was a professor, and of course we have to go to Juliet's house in Verona. They have a statue of her outside "her house" and people say that if you rub her right breast it'll bring you good luck in love. They also have a room in this house that's full of computers and you can e-mail Juliet. I found that pretty funny considering a) she's dead, and b) she never even existed. Oh well, it's worth seeing...after all, that's what being a tourist is all about, right?
Well, I'm off to grab a slice of yummy pizza in Campo Santa Margarita (I swear, this pizza shop is going to know us by name by the time this semester is over). I've got an excuse for getting pizza for dinner this time though-- I'm going to a Vivaldi concert in a church not far from there tonight and we can't go to dinner here or we'll miss the vaporetto to get to the concert on time. Pizza con salami it is! Or maybe con cipolla. Or funghi. Or prosciutto. Or....
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Venice's Superiority Complex....and the History of the Fork
Well, it's been a while, but I must say I am a bit disappointed that no one gave me feedback on whether the pictures worked or not. I have more from this weekend in the same format but a different folder, and I've been waiting to hear that it worked before putting them up on here, but I guess I'll have to put my faith in the system of the crazy internet and assume it works.
I really like my Representing Renaissance Venice class-- I think the best part is that it's taught by a real Venetian who was born here and grew up here. Today we got on a tangent about how Venetians are mainly arrogant snobs when it comes to anyone without a long lineage in the historic center of the city. Professor Bassi admitted that Venetians are very fond of their privacy and unwelcoming towards newcomers, but said that it's because Venice reached its peak in Charlemagne's time (800AD), and has been declining ever since. It's true-- Venice today lives because of its own propaganda put out throughout the centuries, drawing tourists from all over and creating a fame unsurpassed by any other city in the world. They did a great job- an average square meter of property here goes for $10,000 US. Crazy to think that people are willing to shell out tons of money for property in a sinking city. Apparently Elton John has an appartment here in La Giudecca (one of the subsections of Venice...it's actually not even the "ritzy" area-- this is where most of the common Venetians live, including my professor). Anyway, so that's the reason that Venetians are rather unpleasant to deal with. My professor even admitted that locals give tourists bad directions on purpose many times. But to play devil's advocate, imagine trying to cross the Academia bridge three times each day to go to and from work and being stopped twenty times and asked to take a picture, or being behind tourists who randomly stop to take in the view. Tourists have already frustrated me so much that I've planned out new routes to where I usually go, avoiding all the touristy areas like Piazza San Marco and the Rialto, and I've only been here for two weeks! I can't imagine living in this city my whole life.
Well, enough of facts.com for today. I've got lots of catching up to do! On Friday I went with Keshia, Jenn, and Margaret to Murano bright and early. We checked out a few factories, which were definitely really cool but would've been a little cooler if someone had been there to explain what the men were doing. I found some really awesome surprises that got me very excited (after being told by many Muranese that they don't exist or they're not authentic Murano glass), and then we went to the Glass Factory. They had examples of glass from the first century! Glassmaking in Murano really became popular in the 1200s though, and they've perfected their art after the fall of the Ottoman Empire (because it created a large demand once the Islamic glassmakers no longer supplied the majority of glassware). After a lunch of (what else) pizza, we took the ferry over to Burano to check out the lace. We spent the afternoon wandering around because the houses are all brightly colored-- seriously, there was a hot pink house next to a neon green one next to an orange one. But the houses aren't the only brightly colored things; their marina looked like a rainbow too-- the boats seemed to match the houses! We decided that Burano is definitely worth returning to because it's so cute and different.
Here's the link for the pictures from Murano and Burano: http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013962&l=6e969&id=3901306
On Saturday I went with Keshia to tour the Palazzo Ducale. The building is definitely more interesting from the outside than the inside, although the dork in me got excited when I saw a painting of the Lion of St. Mark by Carpaccio that we had talked about in my Venice class last Thursday. The coolest part of that palace is definitely the dungeon-- the pathway down to it includes walking through a covered bridge with tiny windows: the prisoner's last glimpse of the outside world, often for life. It is a beautiful view of the lagoon and a church with a marina on its own island. The palazzo also has an extensive (and I mean extensive) collection of medieval armor and weapons, but hey, one sword looks the same as the next to me. Later that night I went out to a bar that's supposedly popular with the Italian students, near Campo Santa Margarita, because Sunday was Margaret's 21st birthday. Keshia and I left after about an hour because we didn't want to chance missing the last vaporetto, and on the way back we stopped for a slice of pizza and happened upon the most amazing pizza place in all of Venice. It charges about 2 euros for a slice that's equivalent to at least two big American slices, and they use really good tomato sauce, fresh cheese, and of course the crust is the thin crunchy kind. It was so good that Keshia and I went back on Sunday afternoon for another slice after doing homework all morning. Then Sunday night a bunch of girls went out for Margaret's birthday dinner. I ate spaghetti with a creamy tomato sauce and little shrimp bits in it. This is noteworthy because normally I cut my spaghetti into little bits, which never fails to prompt the words "the Italians aren't going to like you" from Lelo. But this time I didn't cut it! I finally mastered the art of twirling spaghetti.
Yesterday I got an e-mail from Camp Wediko saying that they need to schedule a two-hour long interview sometime soon. I called them and set it for today at 4pm, but the lady called and rescheduled for Sunday at 3pm. I would've preferred to get it over with before going away this weekend, but at least she's going to call my Italian landline so I don't have to worry about not hearing her very well over Skype on the computer.
I'm excited because this weekend Keshia, Margaret, and I are going to Milan and Bologna. I'm glad to have found friends who find museums and medieval churches as interesting as I do! Tentatively we're planning on visiting the Duomo, Castello Sforzesco, Chiesa di Santa Maria Delle Grazie, Navigli District, and the Chiesa di San Lorenzo Maggiore. I don't remember now what's interesting at each place, but I'm sure we'll find out when we get there! We also want to do some shopping, of course. Unfortunately we're thinking that most of that will be window-shopping, but my excellent investigatory skills have found a few warehouses that sell all the Italian designer apparel with a large discount because they're last-season, so I'm hoping maybe to find a cute pair of Farragamo flats. That's the one thing I told myself I really wanted to buy before getting here, so I'm going to check out the prices here in Venice before going to Milan, and hopefully it'll be less than what it is in the States. Anyway, then we're planning on going to Bologna on Saturday afternoon. We were told by some of the other girls that went this past weekend that there are some cool churches to see, and a 500-stair tower to climb, but that's about it, so we're planning on getting there after lunch and staying til just after dinner. Traveling is always the best excuse to not eat at the cafeteria here.
Well, I've got Italian homework, a paper for one of the Spanish guy's classes, and lots of reading to get done before tomorrow's classes. My homework for my Venice class will be fun: go to the Rialto and take a gondola across the canal (if you need to cross where there's no bridge you can take a gondola for 50 cents) and "take in the ambience of the market." That would be the local fish market. I can only imagine how smelly that'll be! Where else can you have "ride a gondola" as your homework??!
Oh, and a quick last word about the history of the fork (in case you actually remembered that from the title of the post): Thomas Coryat (a British gentleman in the 1500s) wrote in his book about his travels that he saw a curious thing when he came to Italy, and in all his travels this was the only non-barbaric country to use it: when people cut meat they use a fork instead of their hands, and in fact using your hands is frowned upon and seen as a serious offense. Coryat was so amused and impressed with the fork that he brought it back to England. And that's where the wide-spread use of the fork came from.
I really like my Representing Renaissance Venice class-- I think the best part is that it's taught by a real Venetian who was born here and grew up here. Today we got on a tangent about how Venetians are mainly arrogant snobs when it comes to anyone without a long lineage in the historic center of the city. Professor Bassi admitted that Venetians are very fond of their privacy and unwelcoming towards newcomers, but said that it's because Venice reached its peak in Charlemagne's time (800AD), and has been declining ever since. It's true-- Venice today lives because of its own propaganda put out throughout the centuries, drawing tourists from all over and creating a fame unsurpassed by any other city in the world. They did a great job- an average square meter of property here goes for $10,000 US. Crazy to think that people are willing to shell out tons of money for property in a sinking city. Apparently Elton John has an appartment here in La Giudecca (one of the subsections of Venice...it's actually not even the "ritzy" area-- this is where most of the common Venetians live, including my professor). Anyway, so that's the reason that Venetians are rather unpleasant to deal with. My professor even admitted that locals give tourists bad directions on purpose many times. But to play devil's advocate, imagine trying to cross the Academia bridge three times each day to go to and from work and being stopped twenty times and asked to take a picture, or being behind tourists who randomly stop to take in the view. Tourists have already frustrated me so much that I've planned out new routes to where I usually go, avoiding all the touristy areas like Piazza San Marco and the Rialto, and I've only been here for two weeks! I can't imagine living in this city my whole life.
Well, enough of facts.com for today. I've got lots of catching up to do! On Friday I went with Keshia, Jenn, and Margaret to Murano bright and early. We checked out a few factories, which were definitely really cool but would've been a little cooler if someone had been there to explain what the men were doing. I found some really awesome surprises that got me very excited (after being told by many Muranese that they don't exist or they're not authentic Murano glass), and then we went to the Glass Factory. They had examples of glass from the first century! Glassmaking in Murano really became popular in the 1200s though, and they've perfected their art after the fall of the Ottoman Empire (because it created a large demand once the Islamic glassmakers no longer supplied the majority of glassware). After a lunch of (what else) pizza, we took the ferry over to Burano to check out the lace. We spent the afternoon wandering around because the houses are all brightly colored-- seriously, there was a hot pink house next to a neon green one next to an orange one. But the houses aren't the only brightly colored things; their marina looked like a rainbow too-- the boats seemed to match the houses! We decided that Burano is definitely worth returning to because it's so cute and different.
Here's the link for the pictures from Murano and Burano: http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013962&l=6e969&id=3901306
On Saturday I went with Keshia to tour the Palazzo Ducale. The building is definitely more interesting from the outside than the inside, although the dork in me got excited when I saw a painting of the Lion of St. Mark by Carpaccio that we had talked about in my Venice class last Thursday. The coolest part of that palace is definitely the dungeon-- the pathway down to it includes walking through a covered bridge with tiny windows: the prisoner's last glimpse of the outside world, often for life. It is a beautiful view of the lagoon and a church with a marina on its own island. The palazzo also has an extensive (and I mean extensive) collection of medieval armor and weapons, but hey, one sword looks the same as the next to me. Later that night I went out to a bar that's supposedly popular with the Italian students, near Campo Santa Margarita, because Sunday was Margaret's 21st birthday. Keshia and I left after about an hour because we didn't want to chance missing the last vaporetto, and on the way back we stopped for a slice of pizza and happened upon the most amazing pizza place in all of Venice. It charges about 2 euros for a slice that's equivalent to at least two big American slices, and they use really good tomato sauce, fresh cheese, and of course the crust is the thin crunchy kind. It was so good that Keshia and I went back on Sunday afternoon for another slice after doing homework all morning. Then Sunday night a bunch of girls went out for Margaret's birthday dinner. I ate spaghetti with a creamy tomato sauce and little shrimp bits in it. This is noteworthy because normally I cut my spaghetti into little bits, which never fails to prompt the words "the Italians aren't going to like you" from Lelo. But this time I didn't cut it! I finally mastered the art of twirling spaghetti.
Yesterday I got an e-mail from Camp Wediko saying that they need to schedule a two-hour long interview sometime soon. I called them and set it for today at 4pm, but the lady called and rescheduled for Sunday at 3pm. I would've preferred to get it over with before going away this weekend, but at least she's going to call my Italian landline so I don't have to worry about not hearing her very well over Skype on the computer.
I'm excited because this weekend Keshia, Margaret, and I are going to Milan and Bologna. I'm glad to have found friends who find museums and medieval churches as interesting as I do! Tentatively we're planning on visiting the Duomo, Castello Sforzesco, Chiesa di Santa Maria Delle Grazie, Navigli District, and the Chiesa di San Lorenzo Maggiore. I don't remember now what's interesting at each place, but I'm sure we'll find out when we get there! We also want to do some shopping, of course. Unfortunately we're thinking that most of that will be window-shopping, but my excellent investigatory skills have found a few warehouses that sell all the Italian designer apparel with a large discount because they're last-season, so I'm hoping maybe to find a cute pair of Farragamo flats. That's the one thing I told myself I really wanted to buy before getting here, so I'm going to check out the prices here in Venice before going to Milan, and hopefully it'll be less than what it is in the States. Anyway, then we're planning on going to Bologna on Saturday afternoon. We were told by some of the other girls that went this past weekend that there are some cool churches to see, and a 500-stair tower to climb, but that's about it, so we're planning on getting there after lunch and staying til just after dinner. Traveling is always the best excuse to not eat at the cafeteria here.
Well, I've got Italian homework, a paper for one of the Spanish guy's classes, and lots of reading to get done before tomorrow's classes. My homework for my Venice class will be fun: go to the Rialto and take a gondola across the canal (if you need to cross where there's no bridge you can take a gondola for 50 cents) and "take in the ambience of the market." That would be the local fish market. I can only imagine how smelly that'll be! Where else can you have "ride a gondola" as your homework??!
Oh, and a quick last word about the history of the fork (in case you actually remembered that from the title of the post): Thomas Coryat (a British gentleman in the 1500s) wrote in his book about his travels that he saw a curious thing when he came to Italy, and in all his travels this was the only non-barbaric country to use it: when people cut meat they use a fork instead of their hands, and in fact using your hands is frowned upon and seen as a serious offense. Coryat was so amused and impressed with the fork that he brought it back to England. And that's where the wide-spread use of the fork came from.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Those Blasted Austrians!
Apparently when Austria took control of Venice in the 19th century and modernized it, they decided that all the fancy European courts had pigeons in their squares, so of course Venice needed some too. So next time you get pooped on in San Marco Square, you know to blame the Austrians.
This is just a quick post to say that 1) I bought prosciutto today and so I am ecstatic that I don't have to live on peas, potatoes, and salad anymore (that was dinner tonight), 2) tomorrow I'm going to spend the day in Murano, and if we have more time, Margaret, Jenn, Keshia, and I will be stopping in Burano also, and 3) I have some pictures posted up on facebook of Venice and San Servolo. The link is here:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013858&l=334ae&id=3901306
I'm not exactly positive that it'll work, so let me know whether it lets you see the pictures without having to log in to facebook (it should be set up so that all you have to do is click on it and it'll take you to the album whether you have a facebook account or not). I've decided that posting pictures to facebook is the easiest and least troublesome way of letting everyone else see my pictures, since the sites that want you to pay for them mess up your albums after a while if you don't pay. Anyway, I'm going to hope it works.
On other news, Margaret, Jenn, Keshia, and I have tentatively made plans to do a 4-day whirlwind tour of Switzerland during our small Easter vacation. It should be fairly simple and cheap to do all of it by train, or at least, that's what we're hoping. We've also got a small weekend trip to Salzburg and Munich penciled in sometime in May. We'd like to do Milan next weekend. I think some of the other American girls are going to Padua and Verona this weekend as daytrips, but I'm not sure I'm going to join them because I have two papers due next week already! I'd really like to schedule a weekend in Croatia at some point too, because I've heard from tons of people that it's beautiful. Ahhh the joys of being a student-- by the end of this semester I'll have done more travelling in this school year than I've probably ever done in my whole life, and I can guarantee you that it'll be a lot cheaper than our family vacations too (don't have a heart attack Dad, I'm still studying when I need to!). Honestly though, the point of studying abroad isn't the actual schoolwork you do-- it's the experiences you have, the places you see, the people you meet. I learned so much about life and different cultures last semester, and I wouldn't have had I stayed at Williams. Well, I'd have learned a lot about life there too, but in a different way-- let's just say those life forms are substantial evidence for the theory of evolution from primordial ooze. Anyway, my point is that studying away was the best decision I have made (well, after that of buying prosciutto, naturally), and if you're reading this and you're not yet a junior in college you should go abroad too. It's really a good time to learn how to be independent and responsible. Because if you're not, you'll end up like an American here named Tom-- drunk in a canal. Or asleep in a car in Venice. That kid will never cease to amaze me. Do you know how far you have to go to find a car in Europe's pedestrian city???! You have to go all the way to the mainland (to say nothing of breaking into said car to nap in it). Oh well, I guess some people never learn.
Anyway, I've got to be up early to make sure I go to Murano, and if by some chance I don't hear my alarm and get up, the cleaning ladies will kick me out at 9AM. Whoever's idea it was to have the cleaning ladies come on a day when no one has classes is not very popular among the students, to say the least.
This is just a quick post to say that 1) I bought prosciutto today and so I am ecstatic that I don't have to live on peas, potatoes, and salad anymore (that was dinner tonight), 2) tomorrow I'm going to spend the day in Murano, and if we have more time, Margaret, Jenn, Keshia, and I will be stopping in Burano also, and 3) I have some pictures posted up on facebook of Venice and San Servolo. The link is here:
http://williams.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013858&l=334ae&id=3901306
I'm not exactly positive that it'll work, so let me know whether it lets you see the pictures without having to log in to facebook (it should be set up so that all you have to do is click on it and it'll take you to the album whether you have a facebook account or not). I've decided that posting pictures to facebook is the easiest and least troublesome way of letting everyone else see my pictures, since the sites that want you to pay for them mess up your albums after a while if you don't pay. Anyway, I'm going to hope it works.
On other news, Margaret, Jenn, Keshia, and I have tentatively made plans to do a 4-day whirlwind tour of Switzerland during our small Easter vacation. It should be fairly simple and cheap to do all of it by train, or at least, that's what we're hoping. We've also got a small weekend trip to Salzburg and Munich penciled in sometime in May. We'd like to do Milan next weekend. I think some of the other American girls are going to Padua and Verona this weekend as daytrips, but I'm not sure I'm going to join them because I have two papers due next week already! I'd really like to schedule a weekend in Croatia at some point too, because I've heard from tons of people that it's beautiful. Ahhh the joys of being a student-- by the end of this semester I'll have done more travelling in this school year than I've probably ever done in my whole life, and I can guarantee you that it'll be a lot cheaper than our family vacations too (don't have a heart attack Dad, I'm still studying when I need to!). Honestly though, the point of studying abroad isn't the actual schoolwork you do-- it's the experiences you have, the places you see, the people you meet. I learned so much about life and different cultures last semester, and I wouldn't have had I stayed at Williams. Well, I'd have learned a lot about life there too, but in a different way-- let's just say those life forms are substantial evidence for the theory of evolution from primordial ooze. Anyway, my point is that studying away was the best decision I have made (well, after that of buying prosciutto, naturally), and if you're reading this and you're not yet a junior in college you should go abroad too. It's really a good time to learn how to be independent and responsible. Because if you're not, you'll end up like an American here named Tom-- drunk in a canal. Or asleep in a car in Venice. That kid will never cease to amaze me. Do you know how far you have to go to find a car in Europe's pedestrian city???! You have to go all the way to the mainland (to say nothing of breaking into said car to nap in it). Oh well, I guess some people never learn.
Anyway, I've got to be up early to make sure I go to Murano, and if by some chance I don't hear my alarm and get up, the cleaning ladies will kick me out at 9AM. Whoever's idea it was to have the cleaning ladies come on a day when no one has classes is not very popular among the students, to say the least.
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