I'm a film student. I just spent 4 months in Florence, Italy. Now I'm home, still writing about Florence, and still not really knowing what I'm doing.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
It has been a little over a month since I’ve returned home from my 4 month adventure in Italy. I’m aware that my blogging stopped around halfway through, which is unfortunate. I still have some final videos to make. They’ll happen. At some point. Some day.
I’m currently taking two online courses for school and working part-time as a pool lifeguard. That’s a whole other story in itself. But, what I thought I’d talk about today, at 1:45AM, is what I miss and don’t miss about Italy. Let’s start with what I miss, so that when I start crying, I can use what I don’t miss as therapy.
I miss:
1. speaking italian - yes, it’s true. My every day struggle and frustration is what I miss most. I miss saying “ciao” and avoiding the word “buon giorno” cause I can’t pronounce it correctly. I miss ordering food at restaurants cause it’s the only thing I could do. I even miss the men who yelled (most likely inappropriate) Italian things at me.
2. Guessing at food labels - there is nothing more entertaining than running through Italian words in your head and trying to figure out how to say what you want to buy, as well as, if what you’re buying is what you wanted to buy in the first place
3. Conad - speaking of food, Conad, our supermarket. I miss the giant meat section, the fresh parmigiana cheese and the non refrigerated eggs.
4. Food - specifically, mozzarella cheese. Conad brand mozzarella was the most delicious piece of food anyone could ask for ever in their life. I no longer enjoy the taste of “fresh” mozzarella here in Amurica. Freedom tastes dry.
5. Other food besides mozzarella - I just miss food. And gelato! Oh my gosh, gelato. Going back to icecream has been a horrible transition. Really. Gelato is that good.
6. Eating and drinking on the street - I seem to have a theme happening
7. Going anywhere whenever I want - wanna go to the country side? ok. Wanna go lay out in the Boboli Gardens? ok. Want to go to a club tonight? ok. Want to cook two boxes of pasta and add spinach, tomato and mozzarella? ok. done, done, done.
8. Italian boys - when you find them, they’re beautiful.
9. Vespa’s - I love vespas. Double if there’s a cute Italian boy attached to one.
10. Gusta brothers - I miss Gusta pizza, Gusta panino and Gusta osteria. I <3 Gusta. Our relationship ended too soon.
11. Prosecco - Italian champagne. God’s gift to me.
12. the Euro - We don’t have 20 cent coins in America? 2 dollar coins? 1 dollar coins? Why aren’t our bills as shiny? And why are they so long? (one of the more difficult transitions was reunderstanding my currency).
13. Anything can happen - Florence is similar to NYC in that literally anything can happen. But it’s smaller, so you’re more likely to run into the many surprises Florence has to offer
14. The “aiuto” lady - even though I’m not a fan of beggars, the aiuto lady that wore crocs was one of the highlights of my day. I loved her outfits and her swift determination.
15. The man working at the cafe on the ponte vecchio. I found him too late in the game to truly appreciate how wonderful he was. Always a smile and always appreciative of my Italian. He never gave me a tourist price - I would probably go back and marry him.
16. My apartment/my roommates: I miss my roommates so much. They made my Italy experience what it was and for everything we’ve been through, I’m happy to say we’re still friends. I wish we were back in our ridiculous apartment cooking pasta and dancing in the kitchen. Lauren, stop dropping food on the floor.
Now that I’m going to start tearing up:
I Don’t Miss:
1. The club scene - I have never been more uncomfortable in a situation than in an Italian club. People are rude, none of them are actually Italian, and if you’re a woman, you might as well just accept that someone is going to try and molest you
2. Stupid tourists who don’t even try to speak Italian - get some friggen culture and don’t look at your server like he’s an idiot cause he can’t understand you. It’s Italy, bitch - benvenuti a mia casa.
3. Overpriced taxi cabs - you know who you are. You bastards thinking you can get anything out of us cause we can’t speak your language. And, you’re right.
4. Being unable to dispute problems with Italians - nothing made me angrier than when I had a problem and could not explain myself. This happened a decent amount of times to bother me.
5. The horses and carriages - kind of petty at this point, but they smelled, they dirtied the streets and common…who cares… put the horse away, buddy.
6. Being unable to show my legs & wear flip flops - it’s 2011. Women have rights and flip flops are comfortable.
7. Weird meat - I don’t know what you people are eating, but it’s weird and it’s from some part of an animal that I don’t want to know about. Just give me a hot dog.
8. The exchange rate - screw you, you wiped out my bank account.
9. Cobble stones - you know, I miss them and I don’t. I am happy to be able to wear any pair of shoes I want with just a regular fear of tripping instead of the “I am going to trip, and when I do, I am going to die” fear.
That’s all I got right now. I’m sure there’s billions more things I miss and don’t miss. There are. I’m thinking of more as I type. I miss Lauren’s Italian family, I don’t miss my shitty Italian phone, I miss the live music everywhere, I don’t miss feeling out of the loop about everything else in the world, but, mostly I just miss the back and forth frustration and happiness that came with living in Florence, Italy. Dammit, Jersey shore, can’t believe you’re in my city.
.
Kristen the roommate.
1. my pocketbook
2. my sunglasses
3. my lap top
4. my lap top’s battery charger
5. my necklace
6. the charm on my necklace
7. my jeans
8. my feet
I think I need to go home.
March 19th-21st: Dublin, Ireland
March 22nd-23rd: Brussels, Belgium
March 24th-26th: Berlin, Germany
March 30th-April 2nd: Barcelona, Spain
April 9th-April 10th: Sorrento, Pompeii, Capri; Italy
April 15nd-April 17th: Olbia, Sardegna; Italy
April 22th-April 25th: Licata, Sicily; Italy
Unfreakinbelievable.
Explain (verb): to give the reason for or cause of
Pronounced: literally exactly how it looks… EX-Plain. Or, X-Plain. Or, even, IX-Plain
For Italians, however,
Pronounced: éssplain
One week ago, I was on my laptop when it started flickering and freezing and being a pain in the butt. After keeping it off for the rest of the day, I proceeded to turn it back on in the evening and see if it would let me watch Modern Family. It had worked. Success! I got to watch 10 minutes before it froze again. Another 2 minutes later, the laptop was toast.
I’m going to skip over the part where I have a fit, yell, call my father and freak out. I am really good at handling stress.
Thanks to my Dad’s research and my roommate’s cousin’s recommendation, I went to the closest thing I could get to a mac store: Uno SRL.
Now, don’t be fooled by the name of the store. Because the store is literally a mac store. I walked in, downtrodden and furious, into this store and said “do you speak English?” to the first guy I saw. I didn’t even ask this in Italian, as I usually do. I needed shit to get done. My new friend, David (Dah-VEED), said “a little.” So I said to him “my computer is broken.”
David took my laptop and brought it over to his station, where he proceeded to turn it on. He then started singing “donggg,” tapping his foot and then repeated the phrase. I thought to myself how crazy Italians are when suddenly the computer started up and made that same noise and he smiled at me. This was love.
He explained to me that nothing was lost and everything seemed to be working fine, except for my screen. He then made the “don don don” noise as he searched for the problem.
In the end, I had to part with laptop, so that someone could figure out what was wrong. The next day, David called to tell me what was wrong with my computer and the cost would be 119 euro. I informed him of my warrantee and he said he would double-check. This was his e-mail response:
Good morning,
is informed to me through the assistance and turns out that your computer is under guarantee.
You I yesterday wonder excuse for my error to the telephone. You do not have to spedere null because you are covered by Apple Dear Protection Plan.
If you have Need of any clarification to care, I remain to your disposition.
I wonder excuse for my not perfect English.
Sincerely Yours
_David_
UNO
_Team_
Now, don’t fall in love just yet, as I did. Don’t let their terribly adorable English con you into believing that these are harmless, sweet, pasta-loving Italian men. They will steal your money, and take advantage of the fact that not only can you not speak Italian, but you can’t speak computer either! It was after this that David told me it would be 2-3 weeks to fix. Then, his buddy, Signor Fix-It, called to tell me that something else was wrong with the laptop that did not fall under the warrantee. 210 euro. In theory, I get it back in nine days. I will be in America 15.
Yes, I drew this. My blog post was coming out too… aggressive. So, I decided to put all my anger into a pictorial explanation. Cheers!
I haven’t watched this yet, so we’ll see how that goes. This is 8 minutes that you will not get back. Mi dispiace
Food shopping in Florence. I’m pretty sure this came out of the ground yesterday. And it’s not celery, it is a tree. Even the cashier was confused.
So, it’s been a long time since I’ve written about a trip and I’ve taken about 4. I’m going to do my best to catch up, not only for anyone who reads this, but because I’m trying to remember all of this stuff. Not to mention the unification of Italy celebration. All right. Game Time.
I’m going to be brief with Rome as I need to make a video for the series of ridiculous things said while there.
The morning started off very much like the mornings of Italian class: we were running..a bit late. Our train was at 6:40am, the slow train to Rome - 3 hours, but about 30 euro cheaper. We’re about a 15-20minute walk, depending on how casual or brisk the stroll is, from the train station. We left at 6:20. After ten minutes of a brisk walk, I decided that I was making this train. In my converse sneakers, I sprinted down the streets of Florence. Granted, it was probably about 20 seconds, but I still did it. There was some post-spitting and huffing that I’m not too proud of. Kristen followed close behind and Lauren somehow managed to continue on her brisk stroll. The ticket booth was magically in front of our train, which was leaving in 4 minutes. We made it. It was unfreakinbelievable. There’s also video, so watch out for that. I’m truly sacrificing any respect I have by showing it too.
So, suffice to say we get to Rome. We leave our bags with the hostel and go off to find classic Roman things. Now, people may not know, but I have been to Rome. And granted, this trip was cooler because I was on my own with my two friends, but last time, everything was paid for in advance…and my tour guide was British. Perks.
Anyway, Kristen informed us of the Palatino, which I’ve actually never gotten to see! My tour guide didn’t even mention it! And Emperor Augustus lived there! Come on British tour guide.
We were able to get a ticket to the Palatino, Roman Forum and Coliseum as a package, which gave us our plan for the day. At the top of the plan for the day: food. Kristen got recommendations from this place by the coliseum, where we all ate pizza and rice balls that tasted like my Grandma’s, but, of course, hers are better.
Because no one told us that Rome is GINORMOUS, we walked back to our hostel to finally check in and get ready for dinner. Our new roommate, Gustavo, was lying in his bed when we got to the room. An interesting young fellow, we had no intention of hanging out with, managed to invite himself to dinner with us where we discovered his English was not very good. Just picture a very bright Italian restaurant and 4 awkward people. Well, Kristen and Lauren did just fine conversing, while I sat across from Gustavo attempting to talk like I’m in the 3rd grade in order to get some type of message to him. “Do you like the food? The food is good! Where do you travel?” I could’ve thrown in there ‘when are you going to leave us alone’ but I thought better of it.
At the end of dinner, I was upset to discover that our waiter did not bring back change for us and had no intention of coming back. I paid 20 euro for spaghetti carbonara. An upsetting defeat. Then, we, and Gustavo as well, went to a bar nearby the hostel. There were tons of foreign people, I met a British girl in the bathroom and we bonded over not having toilet paper…. and then we listened to drunk Italians sing “Lasciate Mi Cantare” which just so happens to be me and Lauren’s FAVE song.
The next day, we attended the Vaticano, which was this giant maze of absurd art. We went in the Sistine Chapel TWICE, because that’s just how we roll and not because we were lost. I’m not gonna lie that I cannot remember what happened the rest of this day, I know we took the metro, which was pretty exciting. Like…really exciting. I did not know Italy had modern methods of transportation. oh! We got gelato by the Trevi Fountain - we all made our wishes. Since it was my second time throwing in a coin, I’m supposed to get a new love interest, soooo watch out! Woo.Then we went to the Spanish steps at sunset and we cuddled. I’m kidding about the last part. No I’m not. You’ll never know.
In the evening we went to Piazza Navona for dinner and tartufo. Dinner was absurdly expensive and involved Italians trying to trick us into giving them a tip, even though we know that the service charge is the tip. Silly Italians thinking they can trick us. We live here!! Siamo Italiane! No, ma va bene…allora.. giusto!
We passed through the Pantheon, saw men in dresses, then went back to the hostel. Got up early and casually went to mass in St. Peter’s. I drank from a fountain AND saved Kristen’s life when she slipped on the steps of San Pietro.
And so, we ended our Roman adventures at McDonalds in the Termini train station. We all got happy meals. The toy was Barbie hairbrushes, which we all use.
I know I slid right through this adventure, but it really was a good time and I was happy to find that Italians were very nice and helpful when it came to attempting to ask for directions or bus tickets in Italian. A man even came up to us and asked if we needed help. Once we realized he was not trying to steal from us, he was great! Also, there are some creepy postcards in Rome. So many of St. Peter’s and then the Pope’s head just thrown over the picture. It looked like a 5 year old cut and taped his head on the postcard. I wish I had bought one. Or eight.