La Dolce Vita

And so another day ends in this Tuscan city. I came to Italy not knowing quite what to expect. I've had plenty of time beforehand to ponder what it would actually be like. What I have discovered is the absolute sweet joy of everyday life ~ la dolce vita. It is the gift of time, il tempo libero, that Italy seems to have so much of which allows the chance to breath in every moment. This semi-sabbatical experience I am on (seeing as I am fortunate enough to only have my classes and little else) allows me the freedom in time. I am not locked into a schedule, only that of the day's adventure. It seems that this is the way Italians are as well. Even just walking down the street or having a meal is done at a leisurely pace, each moment to last seemingly forever. The pace of life here is something that I can definately get used to.

"Do not dwell on the past. Do not dream of the future. Concentrate the mind on the present moment" ~Buddha

With only one language, race, religion, and culture, Italy's widespread division is unexpected. Their unity as a country is rather recent, though; this year being only their 150th anniversary as a nation. Despite this "unification", the Northerners and the Southerners, the Sienese and Florentines have strong rivalries. Yet the Italians manage their differences with little violence in modern times. With so many different regions, the country has an eclectic flavor, with each region boasting with pride that they are above all others. They have progressed from hating one another to loving to hate one another, a subtle but significant distinction. As cultural engineers, the Italians transform even the fiercest of oppositions into extravagant celebrations of human passion.

This is seen especially in Siena, just south of Firenze. This is where the "Palio" is held biannually. This horserace is what the Sienese community lives for year around. The race is between the 17 "contrade", the different districts in the city. Each contrade is represented by first its horse, then the rider. The rivalries between the districts is intense, filled with bets against one another, alliances, all in the fight for the prize, the honor of winning accompanied by a banner of the Madonna. The riders, though, are not the stars. It is the horses that determine the race. Even if a rider-less horse wins the race first, they are victorious. The horses will join in on the feast with the contrade as well. The celebration of the Palio is enjoyed by everyone in Siena. It is a long standing tradition that the Sienese value dearly; it is not a show for tourists. They take the competition very seriously with each district of the city cheering fiercely for their representing horse and rider, hoping the others will take a tumble or lag behind for just a few precious moments. Even the streets of the city revolve around "Il Campo", the sea-shell-shaped piazza where the race takes place. Most streets lead down to the heart of Siena. The Sienese also have a fierce rivalry with Firenze, dating back hundreds of years. The Florentines and Sienese battled over their loyalty either with the Guelphs or the Ghibellines, those loyal to the Pope or the Holy Roman Empire respectively. The tension between Siena and Firenze is still felt today. Even our professor, a Florentine, boasts about the achievements and successes of his city in comparison to those of Siena. The Italians like being Italian, and more than that, they not only relish in the pride of their country, but it narrows down to their region and even their city. The Florentines love being from Florence and the Sienese would take no pleasure in living anywhere but Siena.

We took a day trip to Monteriggioni, Siena, and the nearby Casa di Machiavelli. Monteriggioni is a very small town trapped in the middle ages as it severed as a defensive fortification for Siena against Firenze. Even today it still has its walls surrounding the city and a feel of traveling back in time. After lunch there we headed to Siena and explored. The Duomo was quite impressive. The day we went was the birthday of the Madonna, a day in which the usually protected floors of the Duomo are uncovered to reveal carvings, mosaics and inlays. From the floors to the walls to the ceilings and pillars, nearly every inch of the interior was ornately decorated. It was extravagant, almost overwhelming to the senses.

“The first condition of understanding a foreign country is to smell it” – Rudyard Kipling

Food, sewer, flowers, dog poop, b-o, smokers, leather; everything that is essential to the city and the culture within it. Well I guess the b-o isn't essential, but possibly just one of side effects of the mixture of really hot-humid weather and the tiny-tiny washing machines (at least in comparison to the deluxe ones in the states). Every other scent, though, helps to explain not only the history of the city, but also the people within it. While walking down the street the nose is continuously assaulted by the mixture of life within them. From the inevitable delightfulness that comes from a nearby kitchen or from a gelateria making fresh waffle cones, food is by far the most pleasant encounter. It is a expression of the pride Italians rightfully have of their culinary expertise. This will ultimately be overcome, sadly, by the intense body odor of someone who either is embracing their European-ness, does not know what deodorant is, or just hates doing laundry. The last excuse is understandable as I have come to learn. But I never quite expect the shocking stench that seems to waft off passersby all too commonly. Another unpleasant encounter is with the sewer. No description is needed here, but seriously, it concerns me a little. I would rather just enjoy being suddenly surrounded by the warm aroma of freshly baked bread or the girasoli, giant sunflowers, of a flower stand, while wandering the streets instead of being reminded that, yes, this city, as well as the plumbing, has been around for hundreds of years.

"Italy is not to be domesticated or made familiar. Italy remains intransigently foreign, exotic, a continuing revelation of strangeness and unexpected beauties"

If I had a daily food journal it would probably look something like starting my day with fruit, eggs and un caffè, then a panino, bread and cheese, maybe a caprese salad, followed by pasta and veggies with more bread. And of course gelato throughout. Oh, and anything with nutella too.

Noticeable fashion crazes:

Birkenstocks. Everyone of all ages loves these things, guys and girls; they all wear birks in every style possible.

Aladdin pants. They look super comfy.

A lot of girls wear jeans that look normal at first, but then you notice that they're super baggy. They fit the waist but the crotch area is crazy big, then they're normal again. Personally, I'm not too sure about those.

Uncommon food items: peanut butter, chocolate milk, milk in any size larger than a liter is nonexistent, bread made with salt, syrup (we sadly found this out when we made breakfast for dinner. Instead we used nutella, like true Italians, to top our french toast), and I haven't seen any popcorn yet.

Common food items: figs (they're just ending their season), cinghiale (wild boar), fegato (liver), mandorline (almonds), and of course nutella, pastas of all kinds, gelato, pizza, cheeses, all that good stuff.

As explained by Refugio (the go-to program leader who knows what seems like nearly everything we need to know about anything while we're here) the graffiti in Firenze is motivated either by emotional or political intentions. It's non uncommon to see multiple anarchist symbols within a few blocks joined by professions of love. And there is quite a bit of this throughout the city.

"Chi vuole essere felice lo sia: del futuro no c’è certezza" - Lorenzo de' Medici

The world sees in Italy a sense of beauty; beauty of landscape, beauty of learning, beauty of human romance, beauty of art and architecture, beauty of history. All these ideas are expressed somewhere or other in every aspect of Firenze, from the winding streets to the trattorie (little restaurants), from the cobblestone streets to those hot Italian men I'd been looking forward to oogling at! ;) And part of Italy's beauty comes from the depth of the culture and of history, and from the mixture of the past within the present. This differs so much from growing up in California, which is absolutely beautiful as well, but in a much different way. Italy is a country layered densely, contradicting itself at every corner. When looking around the city, you see the history of hundreds of years still alive in the streets; modernity and antiquity melded together. The past is gone, but the pieces of time are everywhere yo look. This layering makes Italy so filling...though that could be the pasta and gelato too...

I thought I had found my favorite gelato flavor the other day, the best out there. I was convinced, really. Then it happened. I found the REAL best flavor. It came out of nowhere too. I strolled in thinking I knew exactly what was up and I would order my fichi gelato (fig) with another new flavor. Then I saw it. Jamaican Dream. And oh how heavenly it was! Chocolate and coffee. The two things that I love most in the world mixed together by the best gelato creator, Jon Paul. I thought okay I'll taste that and see what it's like and when I did I wasn't expecting to find my new favorite. (Though Jon Paul warned us he ate it everyday for a month straight). I'll definitely be following in his footsteps.

Vorrei una cuppa da fichi e Jamaican Dream per favore!

Fig and chocolate/coffee gelato for the walk home from school

The weather here is a little more extreme than back in San Diego, that's for sure. By the afternoon the combination of heat and humidity leaves me completely drained, but luckily Italians love their afternoons to close down everything and just relax. I've found that I have A LOT of spare time not having a job and only have 1 class for now. Walks around the neighborhood never fail to be wonderful and less and less exhausting. My legs aren't sore anymore, a relief! It's absolutely amazing to have the time to just breath in and to not have a schedule to keep or deadline to meet. It's a free feeling that I can definitely get used to. I'm going to be a professional traveler slash gelato eater. It's decided. As for the weather here, it's started to cool down a bit compared to the first week, even a little rain came through.

This column represents a tree that once stood there. A saint, after his death, was being transferred from San Lorenzo to the cathedral and his coffin brushed up against a dying tree. Soon after, the tree then came back to life, flowers miraculously blossoming. Believers began to take pieces of the tree as relics of the power of the Saint. The tree soon died for good because of this, but the column was put in its place in remembrance.

Every last Tuesday in the month, the museums are free to the public in the evenings. We went to The Uffizi to see Botticelli's The Birth of Venus. The Uffizi building was constructed in 1560 for governmental offices of the time, but today holds works of art collected and donated by the Medici family during their centuries of rule. Most of the works are on the top floor, protected from flooding from the nearby Arno. My favorite was "Sei Poeti Toascani" by Visari, a painting of Dante and Cavalcanti because I learned about them in one of my Italian literature classes. (We couldn't take pictures but here's what it looks like).

The amount of art in the Uffizi was impressive. All over Firenze, in fact, the history of the culture is inescapable. Another interesting thing that I'll have to get used to while living here is doing laundry…I thought I had it hard in San Diego scrounging around in the couch or digging in the black hole of a purse for quarters everyday and then once collecting enough of the treasured coins fighting for a turn in the communal washing machine, but man do I wish I could go back to that. We have a washer in our apartment here (one step up from San Diego) and a clothesline for drying. Even though this is completely normal, we had quite the time today trying it out. Our landlord had showed us what buttons of the hundreds to push and he even deciphered the hieroglyphic pictures next to them for us before we moved in. My roommates took a shot at it and threw in a load one morning, but ended up taking turns washing everything in the sinks after flooding the kitchen. We might have to look into an alternative to that...

“If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay at home.” – James Michener

Ponte Vecchio

In the past week we've had lots of paperwork to fill out. We all had to go to the Questura (the police) to get our permesso di soggiorno and a codice fiscale to live here and it wasn't as frightful as I was expecting. Just some paperwork to get out of the way. Another experience was the Mercato Centrale, my new favorite place to get fresh fruits and veggies, cheese, bread, and meats. All the important things! They also have a little caffè with delish coffee. There are a few big markets throughout the city like this. Very fun! The produce is so fresh here it makes my mouth water even before it hits the chef's pan, which in this case Janelle's, my roommate. She hasn't failed at whipping up something yummy with just a few ingredients the past few nights. Most recently she made pasta with a creamy pesto sauce. I'm all signed up for her cooking class which will take place in our kitchen nightly!

On Sunday morning we headed across the street to the Basilica of San Lorenzo. As one of the largest churches in Florence (consecrated in 393) and in the main market district, it is also the burial place of all the principle Medici family members. We attended the morning mass which was an intimate look into the customs of the church; there was maybe only a couple dozen people there.

While I'm very much looking forward to improving my Italian, I am, at the same time anxious about making mistakes and looking foolish, or worse being pinpointed as American. I haven't quite figured out the attitude Florentines have towards Americans. Right now I think we are clumped together with all the other throngs of tourists. Once I tell someone I'm living here, though, they brighten and are so excited for me and let me in on their little secrets. It's even better if I practice my Italian on them too.

"Almost always when speaking non-English-speaking Italians met in the course of a day's activities discover you Italian is not fluent, they (unlike Parisians) exhibit no contempt and happily hear you out as you mangle their beautiful language. But when they speak in return, they give no quarter; faster and faster they go. Is this the Italian equivalent of Americans speaking louder and slower to foreign-speaking people? What it probably means is that it is utterly incomprehensible to them that anyone cannot understand their language"~Barbara Grizzuti Harrison

The streets are crowded, the mosquitos are out, the architecture is breathtaking, the water is warm, the fridges are small; there are bikes, vespas, buses, and people everywhere; nothing is open, graffiti plasters the streets; the language, art, and people are amazing; and the food is ridiculous, not to mention the gelato at every corner- all of this creates a city that is full of life and possibilities. The thing about Italy is that is is never dull. In the reputation as in the landscape, in the past as in the present, in the idea of it as in the reality.

Legend has it that if you and your loved one attach a padlock anywhere on the bridge then throw the key into Il Fiume Arno, your love will last forever. (Though due to the damage it has caused, there are hefty fines for doing so) These days, lovers simply touch any remaining locks that have not been removed. The luck that has kept them there perhaps will rub off on the hopeful couple as well.