Yesterday I walked. Woke up tired, an aching tired resonating deep, and restless. So I walked. Locked the apartment, leaving its shadows and solitude, decending the steps to the outside, with busy streets and people filled sidewalks, turned and walked.
I walked one way, then turned and walked another. I had no map to guild me back if I were lost and not enough language skills to allow me to ask where I was. I knew not where I was going but it seemed my free were never satisfied. Hours, just navigating the streets blind. I was glad I decided to wear my tennis shoes though I was wearing a sundress. My stomach growled but I kept on. My calves ached and my thrighs burned, but I kept walking, wandering, seeking something I didn't know. My callouses on my feet were getting blisters and my blisters were callousing, as if my body was protesting but my feet refused to hear its cries. Yet I kept walking. Not knowing where I wanted to go or what I was running from.
No one bothered me. The benefits to having brown hair and brown eyes. I blend in almost anywhere, not that I particularly look Italian, per say, but I don't stand out. So no one bothered me. Perhaps they did think me Italian. Perhaps they just didn't care.
And I kept walking. Past the cars and vespas. Past men sitting under restaurant awnings enjoying words and a glass of vino. Past waitresses and butchers and cashiers sitting on their respective store's thresholds savoring the slow moments of their smoke breaks. Past the child filled strollers pushed by women, or the men playing soccer. I could feel their eyes, but I kept on by, looking for something.
My feet finally found themselves at the top of this hill, over looking the city with building large and loaming as if they could devour people now as small as a child's hand, nestled at the base of large rolling mountainous hills. The red orange roofs like a permenant sunset, and the white walls holding them up as innocent as a Sunday morning. And people with thought moving around, but so tiny that you couldn't see them.
I stood there, seeing this and breathing. Then turned around, and walked back.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Episode 17: These things just happen
Exactly right. I have fallen in love. It was really only a matter of time, to the motification of my father, and his fears of my going abroad have yielded unmeasureable fruit. A feeling I had only comprehended in literature but never truly understood. Until now.
I have fallen in love with Ireland. I don't believe in love at first glance, but I guess I will have to make an exception. Obviously. It really shouldn't be such a surprise. I'm not sure anyone could go there and not be smitten eventually. The craziest part about it (well, not THE craziest part, but it's up there) is that I only saw Dublin and Dublin port harbor.
(haha bet I had some of you guys going and about gave Dad a heart attack)
After my first two days of holiday were spent in London with my friend Leah whom I met in a mask design class from Agostino, I woke up bright and early Monday morning to spend nine hours traveling, taking train, then tub, then train again, then another train, and then finally a ferry in order to reach my destination. The ferry was a whole new experience; sitting peacefully with a sandwich, observing the sea and sky blend together, and being able to watch the slow process of creeping up on Ireland. And thus I arrived, feet on the ground of at least half of my ancestors, with only a map bequeathed to me by a nice bus driver and no information about where my hostel was. Eventually, I got there, greeted by and older Irish receptionist whose name I can't remember since my Australian friends I met there and I took to calling him Dad. The Irish are known to be witty, and that is very true, for not even two seconds in the room and all the receptionist are having good fun with my name. Luckily, the years living in my family has prepared me for such encounters.
My hostel was situated in the Medieval/Viking section, conveniently located next to the Temple Bar section, where I spent my nights (responsibly) attending pub crawls with my newly acquired friends and making new ones. Tuesday I took a walking tour, getting detailed insight on the history of the country, buildings and people. I spent a good hour in the National Museum looking up most of the family names I could remember, and afterwards I wandering around, declining the urge to buy some Starbucks and making the greatest discovery of all - sour patch kids. Now in a previous blog I mentioned the lack of these delicious treats in Italy, however upon entering a candy shop called Happy Pill (mostly because the store's name made me giggle), I discovered a whole bag of them. There were also Reese's, which I also almost bought, but I made myself choose one and I chose sour patch kids.
The rest of my time I spent just wandering around Dublin, taking my time and absorbing my surroundings, mostly in the various, beautiful parks, doing some homework for photojournalism and sketchbook, and going to a few of the museums including the National Leprechan Museum. It could be viewed as a waste of my time to not have traveled in the country and see all Ireland's glory, but in taking my time, I was able to known Dublin more than just the surface and find some very beautiful spots.
But now I am back in Italy, making chicken broth and eating strawberries, waiting the arrival of roommates and enjoying the remainder of my holiday.
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
I have fallen in love with Ireland. I don't believe in love at first glance, but I guess I will have to make an exception. Obviously. It really shouldn't be such a surprise. I'm not sure anyone could go there and not be smitten eventually. The craziest part about it (well, not THE craziest part, but it's up there) is that I only saw Dublin and Dublin port harbor.
(haha bet I had some of you guys going and about gave Dad a heart attack)
After my first two days of holiday were spent in London with my friend Leah whom I met in a mask design class from Agostino, I woke up bright and early Monday morning to spend nine hours traveling, taking train, then tub, then train again, then another train, and then finally a ferry in order to reach my destination. The ferry was a whole new experience; sitting peacefully with a sandwich, observing the sea and sky blend together, and being able to watch the slow process of creeping up on Ireland. And thus I arrived, feet on the ground of at least half of my ancestors, with only a map bequeathed to me by a nice bus driver and no information about where my hostel was. Eventually, I got there, greeted by and older Irish receptionist whose name I can't remember since my Australian friends I met there and I took to calling him Dad. The Irish are known to be witty, and that is very true, for not even two seconds in the room and all the receptionist are having good fun with my name. Luckily, the years living in my family has prepared me for such encounters.
My hostel was situated in the Medieval/Viking section, conveniently located next to the Temple Bar section, where I spent my nights (responsibly) attending pub crawls with my newly acquired friends and making new ones. Tuesday I took a walking tour, getting detailed insight on the history of the country, buildings and people. I spent a good hour in the National Museum looking up most of the family names I could remember, and afterwards I wandering around, declining the urge to buy some Starbucks and making the greatest discovery of all - sour patch kids. Now in a previous blog I mentioned the lack of these delicious treats in Italy, however upon entering a candy shop called Happy Pill (mostly because the store's name made me giggle), I discovered a whole bag of them. There were also Reese's, which I also almost bought, but I made myself choose one and I chose sour patch kids.
The rest of my time I spent just wandering around Dublin, taking my time and absorbing my surroundings, mostly in the various, beautiful parks, doing some homework for photojournalism and sketchbook, and going to a few of the museums including the National Leprechan Museum. It could be viewed as a waste of my time to not have traveled in the country and see all Ireland's glory, but in taking my time, I was able to known Dublin more than just the surface and find some very beautiful spots.
But now I am back in Italy, making chicken broth and eating strawberries, waiting the arrival of roommates and enjoying the remainder of my holiday.
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Episode 16: Unification Celebration
March 17th, more commonly known as St. Patrick's Day and adamantly referred to personally as my niece Miriam's birthday. However, in Italy, the celebration, parades, marching bands and other forms of general merry making is not for either of these momentous occasions, but for another non related yet equally important event. Unification Day.
Today, on March 17th, while my beautiful niece is blowing out her first candle and Irish people everywhere are raising their glasses, all of Italy breaks out in lavish celebration for the 150th year reign of them being a unified country. In the year 1861, (cough, 150 years ago) amid other general political and military chaos of the 19th century that was Europe, the Kingdom of Italy was formed, no longer under the rule of either the French or Austrian. I say most because two of the states were still under foreign control: Rome was still under control of Napoleon III and Venetia was still under Austrian rule. Prussia gave Italy Venetia for their help in their war against Austria, and French troops were pulled from Rome so Italy just marched in and reclaimed it unopposed. All except the Papal State, obviously.
Though there is a whole of other components to this politically charged history, like most historical stories, today is the celebration of Italy being a whole. Though each region has kept their own dialectic and the Italian language only became spread over all of Italy and become the common language everyone spoke when television was only broadcast in Italian. Yesterday night was the pregame to general festivities. Store shops decorated with white, green and red accents. Lights shown on buildings in the same color palate. Flags hang from windows and various other decorations zigzagged above in the city streets. A vicious soccer game was played in traditional costumes (meaning doublets and such), and fireworks were set off from Piazza Signora. Though rain is still joining the party in intermittent waves, the streets were filled and are still. So I will have to announce an official protraction of a previous statement that said there was no traffic in Italy. Today, there is.
Tonight I will hang out with my remaining roommates before we depart on all of our adventures for spring break, celebrating Unification, Saint Patrick's Day, the completion of midterms (one of which I am presently awaiting critique for), my niece's birthday,and life in general.
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
Today, on March 17th, while my beautiful niece is blowing out her first candle and Irish people everywhere are raising their glasses, all of Italy breaks out in lavish celebration for the 150th year reign of them being a unified country. In the year 1861, (cough, 150 years ago) amid other general political and military chaos of the 19th century that was Europe, the Kingdom of Italy was formed, no longer under the rule of either the French or Austrian. I say most because two of the states were still under foreign control: Rome was still under control of Napoleon III and Venetia was still under Austrian rule. Prussia gave Italy Venetia for their help in their war against Austria, and French troops were pulled from Rome so Italy just marched in and reclaimed it unopposed. All except the Papal State, obviously.
Though there is a whole of other components to this politically charged history, like most historical stories, today is the celebration of Italy being a whole. Though each region has kept their own dialectic and the Italian language only became spread over all of Italy and become the common language everyone spoke when television was only broadcast in Italian. Yesterday night was the pregame to general festivities. Store shops decorated with white, green and red accents. Lights shown on buildings in the same color palate. Flags hang from windows and various other decorations zigzagged above in the city streets. A vicious soccer game was played in traditional costumes (meaning doublets and such), and fireworks were set off from Piazza Signora. Though rain is still joining the party in intermittent waves, the streets were filled and are still. So I will have to announce an official protraction of a previous statement that said there was no traffic in Italy. Today, there is.
Tonight I will hang out with my remaining roommates before we depart on all of our adventures for spring break, celebrating Unification, Saint Patrick's Day, the completion of midterms (one of which I am presently awaiting critique for), my niece's birthday,and life in general.
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Episodes 15: Let the sun shine in
The sun came out today. After days of rain, and then cold, then rain and cold, layered together, one on top of the other, like a soggy cake. In between the down pours and the sprinkling, the sky took a coffee break and the sun came out. Pools of water still existed in the divets and crevices of the sidewalk, just enough to get the hem of my jeans wet. But the sun felt good, warming my face, brushing aside my frustrations with a gentle caress of its radiant hands. Soothing the wrinkles from my rain soaked mind. Cultivating radiance that had been forgotten, buried deep under the layers within people, more of which were smiling, but I don't know if they were smiling because of the sun, or because I was smiling too, or I just thought people looked happier since I was smiling. Nevertheless, it was a nice break. Others were enjoying the sunshine too, sitting along the winding streets whereever the sun snuck around the corners of buildings or peaked over the roofs, or where it danced openly in the wide piazze.
The sun is a common thing, and a seemingly silly thing, but I feel my joy is still justified, especially since so much has happened in this world that is nothing compared to a few days of rain or miserable piles of snow. How can I find joy in having a roof and walls when there are those whose homes are no more? How can I find joy in food when there are those who are being fed rations, if anything? Even this moment, typing on this electronic document, I can't find completely joy for coursing through this machine's veins is electricity. I can't help but feel twinges of guilt for having them if I find joy with them.
But I can find joy in sunshine. Not in objects or food, but in something common. Something silly. Something that doesn't need translation. Something we all share no matter where we are. And maybe if I find joy in it, they will too, and so will you, and we can share this moment together, and remember we are connected no matter what the boundries. For this world needs all the joy it can get.
My prayers are with you.
Until Next Time.
Ciao!
The sun is a common thing, and a seemingly silly thing, but I feel my joy is still justified, especially since so much has happened in this world that is nothing compared to a few days of rain or miserable piles of snow. How can I find joy in having a roof and walls when there are those whose homes are no more? How can I find joy in food when there are those who are being fed rations, if anything? Even this moment, typing on this electronic document, I can't find completely joy for coursing through this machine's veins is electricity. I can't help but feel twinges of guilt for having them if I find joy with them.
But I can find joy in sunshine. Not in objects or food, but in something common. Something silly. Something that doesn't need translation. Something we all share no matter where we are. And maybe if I find joy in it, they will too, and so will you, and we can share this moment together, and remember we are connected no matter what the boundries. For this world needs all the joy it can get.
My prayers are with you.
Until Next Time.
Ciao!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Episode 14: When In Roman Holiday
(This one is longer than most, but it describes a three day weekend in Rome. I think that allows for some grace. And there would have been pictures, but my camera is being very silly right now. I might have a whole other blog dedicated to the pictures.)
In being a student through my particular program, it was mandatory for me to attend a three day weekend in Roma, or Rome as us English speakers refer to it as. Though I only have to pay for a few meals I have suspicious that the trip and passes into or tours of various historical old places was paid for through part of my tuition. My suspicious have thus gone unconfirmed, but at the moment I really don't care to look into the matter.
As initially excited as I was at the prospect of seeing the eternal city, I was not looking forward to the prospect of getting up for a 6:30 am departure. And I, as usual, woke up later that planned luckily through the prodding of my roommates who were also going, throw stuff into my backpack and allowed them to lead me through the slumbering city to our meeting point. But, the pain was all rewarded by our first stop at Tivoli where we spent a good hour and a half exploring the Villa d'Este. Actually, the garden surrounding the villa is what makes the place well known and widely traveled because honestly, the building itself isn't that grand to look at. But the garden is known as The Hundred Fountain garden, for as the name suggests, it is a maze full of beautiful statues and fountains. Maybe there actually are a hundred. I'm not sure. The fountains were dormant until about eight years ago, and the most amazing thing is that they are still using the original plumbing from when they were made in 1550. Yeah, you're mind was just blown, I can tell. We then were treated to a light dinner at an olive grove consisting of bread, a dish of pasta, then a dish of potatoes and meat, and more bread. Light dinner.
Saturday was when our walking tour of the city was scheduled, but mother nature also scheduled rain. When people ask how it was, I have conflicting emotions, because I was overwhelmed at seeing, touching, and being amongst historical monuments I had only read about and admired from a distance through pictures in history books. The Colussium, The Pantheon, The Trevi Fountain, the Arch of Constantine, and a bunch of other important historical buildings I wasn't as familiar with. However, the rain made it utterly miserable. Walking around Rome for about 4 hours straight soaking wet is not as fun as it sounds. Just ask my legs and my once white now blue tennis shoes.
Then in my four hours of freedom a few friends and I decided to trek to the Vatican. Weaving through the masses through the obilisk lined street, we came upon the state within a state and a huge line of people. Joining in line with some friends we saw, who ended up leaving the line for this special tour deal, and in twenty minutes we made it pass security and into the pope's casa. Though we had no tour guide and didn't exactly know the exact historical significance of what we were looking at, we ventured through the tombs of the popes and then the St. Peter's Church. Like every church and cathedral in Italy, it was beautiful. The Basillica S. Pietro can't even be described with pictures. I took a few as proof that I was here and that I was seeing what I was seeing, but I stopped even trying to take pictures that would be adaquate in relating all that is this building. I was not able to go into the Cistine Chapel, for I made it there too late for admitance into the museum. I'm really sad about that, but I only had an hour left of my free time and that wouldn't have been enough time at all. Maybe I will go back if I am able to.
Sunday we had a bus tour, much to our relief from walking around the Eternal City of seven hills. And the sun was out. After a mad rush to get spots at the top of our open roof tour bus, we listened to an automated tour person as we moved through the traffic, seeing each of the hills and more ruins and the place that Ben Hur was filmed but unfortunately I was unable to run around it and do a self re-enactment (Sorry Aleah). My new friend Jenna asked me once why I was so quiet, but I didn't know how to explain the feeling of being there. I feel I keep mentioning this over and over, but my mind can't compute being here. And more I think about it the more I feel as though there are more deserving people who should be here. After our tour and time to eat, we traveled back to Florence, giving us time to finish homework and catch up on sleep.
That was the shortened, condensed abridged version. If you would like to hear more, shoot me an email. I would love to converse with you electronically.
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
(Everytime I send my post saying "Until Next Time" I feel as though I am ending a radio show.)
In being a student through my particular program, it was mandatory for me to attend a three day weekend in Roma, or Rome as us English speakers refer to it as. Though I only have to pay for a few meals I have suspicious that the trip and passes into or tours of various historical old places was paid for through part of my tuition. My suspicious have thus gone unconfirmed, but at the moment I really don't care to look into the matter.
As initially excited as I was at the prospect of seeing the eternal city, I was not looking forward to the prospect of getting up for a 6:30 am departure. And I, as usual, woke up later that planned luckily through the prodding of my roommates who were also going, throw stuff into my backpack and allowed them to lead me through the slumbering city to our meeting point. But, the pain was all rewarded by our first stop at Tivoli where we spent a good hour and a half exploring the Villa d'Este. Actually, the garden surrounding the villa is what makes the place well known and widely traveled because honestly, the building itself isn't that grand to look at. But the garden is known as The Hundred Fountain garden, for as the name suggests, it is a maze full of beautiful statues and fountains. Maybe there actually are a hundred. I'm not sure. The fountains were dormant until about eight years ago, and the most amazing thing is that they are still using the original plumbing from when they were made in 1550. Yeah, you're mind was just blown, I can tell. We then were treated to a light dinner at an olive grove consisting of bread, a dish of pasta, then a dish of potatoes and meat, and more bread. Light dinner.
Saturday was when our walking tour of the city was scheduled, but mother nature also scheduled rain. When people ask how it was, I have conflicting emotions, because I was overwhelmed at seeing, touching, and being amongst historical monuments I had only read about and admired from a distance through pictures in history books. The Colussium, The Pantheon, The Trevi Fountain, the Arch of Constantine, and a bunch of other important historical buildings I wasn't as familiar with. However, the rain made it utterly miserable. Walking around Rome for about 4 hours straight soaking wet is not as fun as it sounds. Just ask my legs and my once white now blue tennis shoes.
Then in my four hours of freedom a few friends and I decided to trek to the Vatican. Weaving through the masses through the obilisk lined street, we came upon the state within a state and a huge line of people. Joining in line with some friends we saw, who ended up leaving the line for this special tour deal, and in twenty minutes we made it pass security and into the pope's casa. Though we had no tour guide and didn't exactly know the exact historical significance of what we were looking at, we ventured through the tombs of the popes and then the St. Peter's Church. Like every church and cathedral in Italy, it was beautiful. The Basillica S. Pietro can't even be described with pictures. I took a few as proof that I was here and that I was seeing what I was seeing, but I stopped even trying to take pictures that would be adaquate in relating all that is this building. I was not able to go into the Cistine Chapel, for I made it there too late for admitance into the museum. I'm really sad about that, but I only had an hour left of my free time and that wouldn't have been enough time at all. Maybe I will go back if I am able to.
Sunday we had a bus tour, much to our relief from walking around the Eternal City of seven hills. And the sun was out. After a mad rush to get spots at the top of our open roof tour bus, we listened to an automated tour person as we moved through the traffic, seeing each of the hills and more ruins and the place that Ben Hur was filmed but unfortunately I was unable to run around it and do a self re-enactment (Sorry Aleah). My new friend Jenna asked me once why I was so quiet, but I didn't know how to explain the feeling of being there. I feel I keep mentioning this over and over, but my mind can't compute being here. And more I think about it the more I feel as though there are more deserving people who should be here. After our tour and time to eat, we traveled back to Florence, giving us time to finish homework and catch up on sleep.
That was the shortened, condensed abridged version. If you would like to hear more, shoot me an email. I would love to converse with you electronically.
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
(Everytime I send my post saying "Until Next Time" I feel as though I am ending a radio show.)
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Episode 12: Playing Hard to Get
In going to a different country, one has to assume that there will be things you were used to having that aren't anymore. Most of what is mentioned below are food and things I can obviously do without, but I thought I would add them to this list based on my high appreciation of these items and the irony I find in it with this place being a food mecca. Some are things that are here but just rare. I could keep on explaining but I think it will just be more beneficial if you just read.
1. Reese's anything: Peanut butter candy does not exist. Instead, hazelnut candy is available in a plethera, and I find it very scrumptious. However, there are moments when I just need a piece of that peanut butter goodness that not matter how much hazelnut chocolate I consume the craving just won't go away. But what to expect from a country where Nutella is king, it's not surprising peanut butter candy has been exiled, and peanut butter exists but very expensive.
2. Mike and Ike's and Sour patch kids: I decided to lump them together since they are very similar. I know I have Haribo Gummy Bears, which are amazing, but sometimes a girl just wants
3. Cheese Pringles: Now I thought finding cheese pringles was hard in my parent's house, but it is impossible in all of Florence. They have Original, Multi Grain, Paprika, Sour Cream and Onion, Salt and Pepper, but they do not Cheese.
4. Cheddar Cheese: Not that cheddar cheese is the best, but sometimes it is the best cheese for say, dip, or quesadillas, just eating, and it is the only cheese that is not made in Italy. The Parmaggiano Reggiano cheese (parmasan cheese) is amazing, and so are other cheeses, but every once in a while you just need a good bite of sharp cheddar.
5. Children: At least in Florence, it is called an old city not because of the architecture, but because the age of the general population is older. There are many factors that go into this reality. One is that people are waiting to have children. Another is there are strict regulations on ways outside of good old fashioned copulation to have children. Clinics do exist for invetro fertiliztion, but they are only allowed to make three embryos and it is extremely expensive. Sperm banks, frozen embyos, and even surrogate mothers are all banned and illegal. So when I do run across a kid that's Italian, it always surprises me.
6. Parking Spots: Not that there were available parking spots at Northwestern in any way, shape or form, but here it is a completely different story. When I do come across a car driving the first thought I have is wondering where they are going to park when they get wherever it is there are going. I just believed the limited number of spots that are never available was the reason most people walk, ride bicycles or take public transportation.
7. Traffic Jams: With the limited number of cars buzzing around, this lessens the amount of traffic. Though, there are plenty of vespas and these are always lining the streets, there is very limited traffic. But you would think that this would limit the amount of smog, but Florence has the worst smog of any city in all of Italy. However at night, you can still see the stars if you are standing in large piazzas, so I think Florence beats all cities in the U.S.A.
8. Honeycomb: This food comes in second place to Reese on the craving-food-meter. Most of the cereals here bran flake kind of cereals, which is very good. But every once in a while, a girl needs a bowl of Honey comb.
9. Delivery: In a culture whose culinary experience thrives on not only the taste of the wonderful food, but the smells and sounds of the environment in which they are breaking their bread in. This is one of the main reasons why Italian meals are much longer, they like to take their time and experience all the encompasses their meal. Pick up is available in some places, but if you are eating pizza at your home, it is more Digiorno than delivery. Not that this is a bad thing, for it forces people to leave their dwellings and be a part of the world.
10. Cats: Of all the things I haven't seen, I have yet to see a cat. I see dogs everywhere. Big dogs, little dogs, dogs, dogs, dogs. There are no cats in sight. Maybe they are at home or maybe they don't exist. Perhaps I should one of these days ask an Italian, Dove i gatti?
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
1. Reese's anything: Peanut butter candy does not exist. Instead, hazelnut candy is available in a plethera, and I find it very scrumptious. However, there are moments when I just need a piece of that peanut butter goodness that not matter how much hazelnut chocolate I consume the craving just won't go away. But what to expect from a country where Nutella is king, it's not surprising peanut butter candy has been exiled, and peanut butter exists but very expensive.
2. Mike and Ike's and Sour patch kids: I decided to lump them together since they are very similar. I know I have Haribo Gummy Bears, which are amazing, but sometimes a girl just wants
3. Cheese Pringles: Now I thought finding cheese pringles was hard in my parent's house, but it is impossible in all of Florence. They have Original, Multi Grain, Paprika, Sour Cream and Onion, Salt and Pepper, but they do not Cheese.
4. Cheddar Cheese: Not that cheddar cheese is the best, but sometimes it is the best cheese for say, dip, or quesadillas, just eating, and it is the only cheese that is not made in Italy. The Parmaggiano Reggiano cheese (parmasan cheese) is amazing, and so are other cheeses, but every once in a while you just need a good bite of sharp cheddar.
5. Children: At least in Florence, it is called an old city not because of the architecture, but because the age of the general population is older. There are many factors that go into this reality. One is that people are waiting to have children. Another is there are strict regulations on ways outside of good old fashioned copulation to have children. Clinics do exist for invetro fertiliztion, but they are only allowed to make three embryos and it is extremely expensive. Sperm banks, frozen embyos, and even surrogate mothers are all banned and illegal. So when I do run across a kid that's Italian, it always surprises me.
6. Parking Spots: Not that there were available parking spots at Northwestern in any way, shape or form, but here it is a completely different story. When I do come across a car driving the first thought I have is wondering where they are going to park when they get wherever it is there are going. I just believed the limited number of spots that are never available was the reason most people walk, ride bicycles or take public transportation.
7. Traffic Jams: With the limited number of cars buzzing around, this lessens the amount of traffic. Though, there are plenty of vespas and these are always lining the streets, there is very limited traffic. But you would think that this would limit the amount of smog, but Florence has the worst smog of any city in all of Italy. However at night, you can still see the stars if you are standing in large piazzas, so I think Florence beats all cities in the U.S.A.
8. Honeycomb: This food comes in second place to Reese on the craving-food-meter. Most of the cereals here bran flake kind of cereals, which is very good. But every once in a while, a girl needs a bowl of Honey comb.
9. Delivery: In a culture whose culinary experience thrives on not only the taste of the wonderful food, but the smells and sounds of the environment in which they are breaking their bread in. This is one of the main reasons why Italian meals are much longer, they like to take their time and experience all the encompasses their meal. Pick up is available in some places, but if you are eating pizza at your home, it is more Digiorno than delivery. Not that this is a bad thing, for it forces people to leave their dwellings and be a part of the world.
10. Cats: Of all the things I haven't seen, I have yet to see a cat. I see dogs everywhere. Big dogs, little dogs, dogs, dogs, dogs. There are no cats in sight. Maybe they are at home or maybe they don't exist. Perhaps I should one of these days ask an Italian, Dove i gatti?
Until Next Time!
Ciao!
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