Ski Trip

Egad, I haven't posted anything in 10 days!  Well, in my defense I've had several 20+page papers to finish, a few presentations, and an exam.  As of right now I'm finished with 3 of my courses with only 2 finals awaiting me next week.  Every hard working student deserves a break, so I took mine on Sunday.  And at the risk of sounding pretentious, I went skiing in the Alps last weekend.  (Imagine me holding a glass of wine by the stem and peering over my spectacles at you as you read this, ok?)  Ah yes, it was divine…

prato nevoso.

Thanks to a chance meeting in Austin Texas over a year ago, I had the pleasure of introducing myself to some Italians that were visiting the area looking to apply to the University.  We hit it off instantly and hung out a bit over the summer but they soon returned to their native land and we kept in touch via Facebook.  Several months later I was applying to my university outside of Torino only to remember my italian friends were from the same city!  This connection has been invaluable as one of them picked me up from the airport upon my arrival in August, the other housed me in their family's apartment my first night.  My friend's brother, Stefano, and his girlfriend Giulia have truly been saints since my arrival.  They've met me several times in the city center to have drinks, they lent their apartment to my roommate's boyfriend for a week when he was visiting and most recently they invited me and my roommates to join them skiing.  All without asking anything in return!

me, ricarda and natalie at the table.

Stefano and Giulia organized a weekend in the mountains for me and my 3 roommates - Saturday evening they picked us up from the train station in Savigliano, a town 40 minutes south of Torino.  We drove with them to Giulia's grandmother's house in Dronero, another 30 minutes by car, and they had prepared everything.  In all there were 8 of us, and Giulia set the table and served us salami, bruschetta, potato dumplings and even cannoli her grandmother made (omg, so good) and tiramisu which is a family recipe.  We sat around eating together, drinking wine, laughing, speaking Italian, trying to learn the Piedmontese dialect.  Their friends Ottaviano and Roberto started playing guitar and singing in English (hilarious, btw when Italians sing in English because they make up words), it was so much fun.

there are no words.

We drove the next day to Prato Nevoso in the Italian Alps and the drive alone was worth the trip.  Everything was covered in snow, we were winding up hills and admiring the landscape.  When we arrived we rented all the necessary equipment and got out on the baby hill.  Beginners have to start slow, you know.  Technically we should've had an instructor, but I chose to invest in a helmet instead.

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The little village was so beautiful, tucked into a valley of the Alps, lined with triangular lodges and dotted with anxious winter sport adventure-seekers.  We stayed on the baby hill for a while testing out our skills, then Roberto convinced us we should go up the mountain to the intermediate hill.  I don't know what he was thinking because none of us were remotely experienced enough to descend that mountain.  But we eagerly agreed, confident in what we accomplished on the baby hill.  Next thing I know I'm being pushed onto a conveyor belt and slammed back into the ski lift, up the mountain I go!  I started to get really nervous looking down at the other, more experienced skiers and snowboarders.  But just as we got high enough in the air to view the crest of the mountain, something incredible happened.

view from the lift.

I looked around me and everything was covered in white, the mountains, the valleys, the distant landscape.  Everything was so quiet, so serene, so utterly beautiful.  My chest started filling up with air and I was smiling like I'd never smiled before.  Maybe it was the lack of oxygen due to altitude or something, but I really felt something happen to me.  It was a strange sense of euphoria just realizing where I was, what I was doing, how blessed I was, and how beautiful my surroundings were.  It's going to sound super lame, but I experienced some truly pure form of happiness on that mountain.  I couldn't stop smiling.  I felt an indescribable sense of fulfillment and joy in that moment, but unlike anything I've ever felt before.

realizing the true meaning of "breathtaking."

Soon we were shoved off the lift and onto the top of the mountain, but I must have timed everything wrong because I fell flat on my butt and slid down about 5 meters knocking into the other girls and we all went down like dominos.  Poor Roby had to try to manage all of us fledgling skiers and once we were up, we trudged over to the first drop point - it was an angle of definitely more than 45 degrees, but for some reason I was still in that goofy state of euphoria and I told the girls "we can do this, we can totally do this!"  I went first and launched myself off the hill and PLOP!, fell on my butt again only to slide down the first hill until my skis stopped me.  And honestly all I could do was laugh!  I got myself up, managed to make it to the next  drop only to look back and see the girls each on their butts unable to get up.  I kept going, smiling ear to ear, falling every 20 meters and looking like a bow-legged granny while 9-year-olds passed me going top speed.  I had a blast.  I still can't explain that feeling I had, as it was unique to that singular experience, but I made it to the bottom while the other girls had to take off their skis and walk down the mountain.

proud of myself for making it to the bottom unscathed.

The trip to the Alps was priceless - in the sense that I felt a genuine joy within myself that was augmented by the beauty surrounding me, and also because of the selfless individuals around me.  Stefano and Guilia organized the trip for me and my roommates (some girls they'd never met), fed them, housed them, and took them skiing only because they wanted to.  I can't say I've known that kind of hospitality very often in my life.  What a lovely memory I'll have of this weekend, the snow, the mountain, the company - you can't put a price on true happiness.

Hot Damn, it's Cold!

As I write this post, dear readers, I am looking out through the glass on the french doors of my bedroom and beyond the balcony there is quite an interesting sight.  Small particles of frozen rain are glittering as they pass the faint yellow light of the street lamps.  A moped sits on the sidewalk unattended gathering a delicate white powder.  I see a small dog in a jacket scurrying alongside its owner, dotting the street with tiny black prints...

Shit y'all, it's snowing here!

snooooow.

It's hard to imagine for some of you, I'm sure.  Heck, I can hardly believe it.  Sunday we had our first snow of the season and my roommate Georgina and I went out to explore the winter wonderland that is our neighborhood park.  Given that Georgina and I (Californian and Texan, respectively) were most bewildered by this phenomenon, we trekked alone to the park and left the German, French and New York girls behind.

neighborhood sustainable development park.

I've gotta tell you, it's damn cold here in Torino right now.  I'm not just saying that because I'm accustomed to wearing flip flops and a sundress to Thanksgiving dinner, but I've done the math.  Conversions, you know.  Today it was 0 degrees celsius and although that doesn't take any real number crunching, it does hurt my head just thinking about the implications.  32 is a number we'd reach in Texas maybe in early January if we were so unfortunate.  Tomorrow's forecast details a "light snow and mist" alongside a pleasant little (-1) degrees.  I'm cold.  Mind you I've been sleeping with knee-length socks (this is the part in this post where my dad is cringing) and long-sleeved shirts for about a month now to combat the lack of decent central heating in Italy.  Not bad really, I've got a good comforter and my toesies tend to keep warm.  But when I have to go outside, that's the problem.

ice ice baby.

Even though this is technically still Fall, I could swear to you it's the dead of winter in Russia.  I haven't really felt super cold until today when the bus didn't come for an hour to take me back home and even through my boots, 2 layers of socks and leggings (which will from now on be a permanent fixture under jeans) I truly believed I had developed a mildly serious case of frostbite across my toes.  I remember in August when I was packing my bag to come to Italy I grabbed several long sleeved shirts and my lovely white wool pea coat thinking, it'll be ages until I need this.  The thing hardly gets any face time in Texas and I've been wearing it every day for a couple weeks now!

i've gotta admit, it is rather beautiful.

Family, don't start worrying that I'm over here huddled near the oven, teeth-chattering, red-faced, clutching a cup of tea or something.  I'm from Texas, I'm supposed to describe cold weather in a hyperbolic manner - it's in the job description.  Luckily socks are in abundance at the local market, and since they likely "fell off the back of a truck" somewhere they also tend to be affordable.  These days I think I'll be on the lookout for a pair of boots with serious insulation and water resistant capabilities that will serve me absolutely no purpose once I return stateside.  C'est la vie.

brrrrr.

I'm fairly sure I should be in love with snow, and theoretically I am since I've seen it and been charmed by it a handful of times in the South.  But in Texas when it snows, that fundamentally translates to no school.  Always.  Yet here I am on the brink of December (not even true winter yet) and my toes almost fell off waiting for the bus!  Everyone, I still have to go to school when it snows.  Whaaat?  How am I going to make it through January and February?  This post isn't intended to be a complaint, though it has turned into a sort of cultural diatribe - I will of course embrace this change with as much vigor and enthusiasm as I have everything else on this adventure thusfar.  I'll bundle up and accessorize with scarves, hats and gloves; I'll even order cappuccinos to keep my hands warm.  I'll relish at the sight of my own breath in the air as I walk along.  I'll find comfort in using a coat rack inside establishments.  I'll look forward to a trip we've got planned this weekend in the mountains with some local friends.  But damn, I'll still be cold.

Giving Thanks

This week was particularly difficult, thinking about everything I was missing by being abroad during Turkey Day.  I didn’t even try to hide my anguish as one of my professors assigned individual presentations to be given on Thanksgiving Day (Italians just don’t get it).  I not only had to be in school on this blessed day, but on top of it I had to give a presentation.  In Accounting.  *insert self-inducing vomit gesture here.*  But I knew I had to focus on the true meaning of the holiday – not the everything’s-better-smothered-in-gravy one, but the one about recognizing and appreciating everything for which you’re thankful.

with a little hard work, you can bring America to Italy

As it turns out, the pain of missing out on an important holiday (when you’re not on the same continent being constantly reminded of its existence) isn’t really that bad.  Everyone else around me had to go to work or school, shops were still open – it didn’t feel like Thanksgiving, but I knew it was.  So I decided to organize a dinner that would be an attempt at recreating a true American feast.  It started out as a few interested folks from our apartment and before I knew it we’d invited all the faculty, staff and students to partake in our holiday shindig.  Over the course of the week, the sign-up sheet grew to over 30 names and I started to worry about how I would be able to make and transport mass quantities of stuffing (arguably the most important side dish that has been known to occasionally outshine the turkey).

presenting the turkey

the thanksgiving spread

Everything worked out perfectly.  I’d convinced the café to order and prepare a 7-kilo (15.4lb) kosher turkey and I found myself advising our international crew on how to make traditional American dishes.  Apparently the Italians didn’t understand that the Pilgrims and Native Americans weren’t feasting on lasagna or tiramisu.  We had stuffing, garlic mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, caesar salad, quiche, pasta salad, garlic bread, potato pie, mac & cheese, some weird looking octopus salad (someone didn’t heed my “green bean casserole” suggestion), apple pie, chocolate peanut butter pie, cookies, banana bread, 2 giant jugs of wine and a Frankenstein turkey that had been stuffed and sewn shut by the local butcher who likely hadn’t ever done it before.  Oh, and something that resembled gravy but was attempted by use of olive oil.  And in retrospect I probably should’ve suggested someone bring vegetables, but whatever.

needs something green.  i think.

30 of us sat around, ate, drank, pushed each other to get through the line, laughed, ate some more, and generally enjoyed the party.  To top it off there was a “Western” band playing in the adjacent room of the café and that added to the ambience.  I dined at the table with my Project Management professor and her boyfriend along with a few of my roommates.  For everyone except 4 of us, this was their first Thanksgiving and I coached them through the turkey-mashed potato-stuffing combo that must be present on your fork. 

giuliano our facilities manager - doesn't speak a word of english but that night I taught him how to say (and make) "stuffing"

It was great being able to share a native holiday with my little international family here.  I looked around the crowded room and saw my classmates, my teachers, and members of the staff enjoying each other’s company and I felt right at home on that makeshift Thanksgiving Day.  Sure there wasn’t any pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, football, or green bean casserole, but I felt incredibly thankful for being able to share my culture with another part of the world and bringing our little family a bit closer together.

chowing down on the turkey cookie i made by tracing my hand in cooking class

Progress Cafe

There's a place on east 5th street in Austin called Progress Cafe where I used to go for an Eastside Latte and some light journaling.  This weekend the girls and I found ourselves in the center of Torino just a bit north of the 2nd largest piazza in Europe (Piazza Vittorio Veneto), where we found a wonderful 3-level establishment: top level is a restaurant, ground floor is a hip cafe, and the basement is a dance floor/cocktail bar.  The name?  Caffe del Progresso.  My trip to Caffe del Progresso didn't result in quiet moments of introspection with pen in hand, rather a solid hour on the dance floor rocking out to Italian '80s with a mojito in hand.  Nevertheless, this somehow got me to thinking about my own personal progress.

gotta write it out.

Today at lunchtime I took a break in the library and grabbed my journal from my bag.  I took time to survey the recent contents and noticed I've written more in the last 3 months than I have in the entire year.  I flipped back in the annals of my thoughts, preparing myself for the inevitable cringe that often accompanies the reviewing of old journal material (at least for me).  This time I surprised myself.  I came across an entry from exactly one year ago, to date.  November 22, 2009 at 12:28pm (yes, I add the time to the entries).  How weird is that?  Back then I was journaling once a month at best, and here I was, Future Me, staring at the ghost of one year past.

Rewind to November 22 of last year, imagine if you can a time when the Twilight series just reached that obnoxious peak in popularity, a time when we all worried we had swine flu - right about then.  I was sitting in Austin Java attempting to write out my frustration with my current situation and hopes for the future.  One year ago I was working at a diner serving fried chicken and milkshakes to patrons and wondering why something "just wasn't right" with me.  I was thinking about taking the GRE because I thought "I need to get it together" and do something with my life.  What was the right decision, and why couldn't someone tell me what to do?

The answer was there on paper the whole time.  "Part of me thinks that writing this down will give me the answer, when in truth this is just a semi-permanent version of my innermost struggles.  I need strength and resolve, a sense of confidence regarding my life.  I should do what's right for me - be alone."  

let the coffee and the ink flow.

The distance I was talking about in the last post is even more true now that I look at my journal.  Distance isn't just meters, kilometers, oceans - it's time.  Years.  It's also being alone, allowing yourself to breathe and think about what you want and need for yourself.   Here are the items I outlined for Future Me a year ago: "Things need to be clear, focused and with purpose.  No more distractions.  Only success.  I need to be happy with me and where I'm going.  I suppose that can be my first step." I find it interesting that though it took me some time to heed my own words, I ended up truly listening to myself and creating opportunities to be able to truly accomplish some goals.

A year ago I was writing about probably going to UT for grad school and that was fine.  But here I sit in a castle in North Italy writing a blog post about my life studying the arts in Europe.  I was searching for balance just one year ago on a professional and personal level, now I believe I've truly attained that sense of equilibrium.  One year and 70ish pages later in my journal, I'm there.  And that's true progress.

Going the Distance

What is it about distance, I mean serious kilometers, that gives you a new perspective on things?  I've been here in Italy for almost 3 months now and I can say I haven't deeply considered my life from this angle.  Maybe it's the longitude, or my closer proximity to the North Pole.  Perhaps I should attribute this newfound consideration to the constant (or semi-constant) blogging and published introspection.  Either way, these days I seem to have much more clarity regarding my life.

I suppose it's that I am experiencing so many new ideas, concepts, cultures, places and people that it just makes a girl stop and think.  Everything that's normal, comfortable and common for me doesn't exist in this new dimension.  I'm not just talking about adjusting to a life that requires me to dry my socks overnight on the water heater to ensure they'll be ready for class the next day.  But rather the lack of nearness to people that matter to me.  One thing's for sure, being suddenly without friends and family really makes an impact on you.  But when you're too busy to realize you're actually on another continent, one day it will just hit you.

introspective moment by the ivy.

Last week I received a few packages and postcards from family members and friends with thoughtful tokens and encouraging messages.  A cute new outfit from one, giving me confidence and a touch of sass for upcoming events and presentations.  Then a handmade postcard with a photo of Rome and another with an image of the UT Tower taken just for me.  Finally a package of American goodies and a couple beautiful handmade scarves with thoughtful messages written on each.  I sat on my bed with my spoils of war carefully arranged around me and thought about how blessed I am.  There are people in my life who spend time on me because they love me, and that's an indescribable feeling.

You know what's as beautiful as the canals and tiny streets of Venice or the pastoral English countryside?  Truly feeling loved.  Knowing that someone cares enough to tell you, show you, make a gesture  of selflessness.  That's beautiful.

ruminations happen here.

Distance from my family and friends has resulted in my daily consideration of their importance in my life.  I've always known this, but why is it that these things always make more sense when you've gone far away?  The unconditionality of love is a funny thing.  No matter what someone does, where they go, who they are, why they make their decisions, love seems to transcend all of that.  And there are so many types of love that astound me.  Love at first sight, love between best friends, the love of a mother.  And the love that lasts over time, over hardship, over disputes.  What did we ever do to deserve this love?  I know I've been a stubborn, stalwart wench at times who's sloughed off the notion of love; I've ignored it when it didn't suit my needs and spent years convincing myself I didn't need it.  But that's just the thing about love, we do need it.

We must be true to ourselves and at the same time love someone for who they are, not who we want them to be.  (Thanks for that one, Grandma.)  Because what is it worth - this adventure of mine, this professional and personal discovery - if I cannot share it with those I love?

capturing the memories.

I am blessed.  Not only having the means to be here and having the opportunity to learn and grow, but also to be supported by so many irreplaceable people.  The feeling you get when you realize you mean something to someone, you made a difference to them, you're important to them and that they'd love and support you no matter what -- that's a feeling we should acknowledge and embrace in every way.

Being far from your loved ones is never easy, but it's sure made easier when you get an email from them with pics from their latest baking endeavor, when you chat with them on gmail about their day, when you skype them just to see their face, when you receive a postcard with their sentiments, and even when throwing on a new skirt or enjoying a box of animal crackers.  That doesn't hurt either.  

Retirement

No, we're not talking 401Ks or Roth IRAs, but rather my official retirement from teaching.  I know, I realize I may be disappointing a few of you, namely the teachers/pastors/educators among my friends and family, but I gave it some serious thought and I simply cannot continue.  It's not really a matter of being capable of teaching or having fun with a language class -- THAT I can do.  And I believe I did it rather well, actually.  It's quite simply the fact that I spent sooo much time creating the lessons.  I made these spiffy powerpoints with pictures and fancy slide transitions, I even had fun activities for them, all of this only to realize I was neglecting my school projects in order to impress my middle-aged students.  Priorities, siiiigh.

some serious reflections happening here

I feel a bit like a quitter not continuing with the job, I know my students enjoyed me and appreciated my humor, but I had to admit I didn't have adequate time to dedicate to the job.  I really wish I could be as involved in things here as I was in Austin -- I had time for everything!  Kickball, Book Club, endless outings with friends, heck I even had time to keep up with my favorite shows and maintain constantly manicured nails.  Then if you tack on my interest in discovering European cities while being here, that just doesn't leave time for a weekly English lesson.

classic brooding gaze across the sea photo

To confuse matters a bit, a few days after I quit the teaching job the Student Services Coordinator, Gian Lorenzo, told me about a 1.5 month-long internship at the Museo di Antropologia e Etnografia at the University of Turin.  Apparently the director was looking for 2 students to help out a few hours a week in cataloguing artifacts for an upcoming exhibition.  Gian Lorenzo informed her he knew of an American (me) and an Italian student who would be perfect for the job and next thing I know I'm cramming into his FIAT with an Italian art history student to go meet the director of the Anthropology Museum of Turin.  She immediately adored me and delighted in the thought that an American (how exotic!) would be able to provide some cultural insights into their American collections.  She doesn't speak English and our encounter was entirely in Italian, which was a welcome challenge since I speak English 85% of the time here.  In the end, what I thought was going to be an informative meeting actually turned out to be my first day on the job.  Not really sure how that happened, but I'm looking forward to seeing if this can actually work for me.

bridge over troubled waters

I figure a job at a museum will be more beneficial to me while I'm here, and heck I didn't even have to find it myself.  Plus, working in an environment where only Italian is spoken should be good practice.  She also told us we'd have the opportunity to not only catalog the artifacts but also help in the exhibition process - exciting!  On Friday I'm going to get a tour of the museum and I'll get more details about the internship.  I will be up front with her about my availability and amount of time I can afford to commit to the project.  Who knows if this will work out, but I can't imagine it could be more demanding than lesson plans (how do teachers do that every day?!), otherwise you'll be hearing from me in a matter of weeks about my latest retirement plan.  Ha!

Venezia

ahh, l'amour.

It's a city for lovers, or in this case, roommates.  What an experience I had this weekend at the city on the sea.  I must say it's like nothing I've ever seen: a city full of people and not a single car in sight.  Boats are the only mode of transportation, besides walking of course.  Come to think of it, I don't believe I saw a single bike, it might be hard to carry one up and down all the bridges and or ride one around the tight street corners.  And truthfully I don't know that I saw a single local, not that I would know what one looks like anyway.  Venice is entirely full of tourists.  It makes sense, the city is one of the most known sites in the world, there truly isn't another place remotely similar in design or beauty.

on the ferry approaching piazza san marco.

palazzo ducale by night

We left Friday afternoon from Torino and drove about 5 hours across Northern Italy.  I suppose I can now say I've traversed the knee/lower thigh of the boot - oh, how risque'!  We took a ferry to the island south of Venice where a semi-shady hostel awaited our arrival.  It wasn't too bad, there were clean linens to be had and free coffee, but let's just say next time I'll remember to bring a shower shoes.  I felt like I was back in the dorms!  We ventured out in the evening and I was quite overcome by the beauty of Venice by night.  There were lights delicately illuminating the landscape and reflections of majestic Gothic facades in the water.  We walked across piazza San Marco and admired the basilica, the clock tower, and Palazzo Ducale.  Ponte Rialto was another spot we found - it's a huge bridge across the Grand Canal and happens to be the oldest, the original structure was erected in 1181.

 why my brother wouldn't like venice

ponte rialto by night

Saturday we set off on our own to take our photos of the quaint corners of Venice and discover the mysteries of the city.  Venezia is known to be a difficult city to navigate, as the streets are organically organized and often dead end or lack proper signage.  However, I found the beauty of Venice to be in my walks around the island without a map, just my keen sense of direction.  I came across quiet streets with flowers hanging from windows, shutters warped from the summer heat and paint peeling from the wooden panels.  I crossed over steep bridges that were ancient cement paths above the tranquil canals between buildings.  I sat in a piazza staring up at a beautiful baroque church and across to a small, ivy-covered Murano glass workshop.  I passed by shop windows full of gorgeous hand-painted Venetian masks and elaborate hand-sewn marionettes.  I was falling in love with Venice.  I think it must be impossible not to.

getting an art fix in venezia

I trekked over to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection to see a museum full of some of the most well-known modern artists in the world.  I chatted with a docent in Italian about a particular series of abstract expressionist paintings by Adolph Gottlieb and marveled at the palazzo where the mistress of modern art once lived.  An incredible sight was the Santa Maria della Salute church, a constructed in 1630 after a particularly devastating outbreak of the plague and thus dedicated to Mary and health.

santa maria della salute

How can I put into words the way Venice captures the heart?  I suppose I can only say that it is a dreamy, surreal city that has been placed delicately upon the water and exists in a beautifully fragile state.  And yes, there are couples everywhere.  Everywhere.  I luckily didn't feel the urge to throw myself in the Grand Canal watching newlyweds toast champagne on gondolas.  Instead of enjoying the city with a partner or lover by buying roses offered by the Moroccans, taking a gondola ride through the canals, or smooching in piazza San Marco, I rather fell in love with the awe-inspiring isolated corners of the city itself.  Venice, you mysterious temptress, you'll be seeing me again.

beautiful mask in a shop window

London Town

(Note: Words in italics denote new fave British sayings)

Well I'm back safely after a fantastic trip to England this week!  I've never been anywhere in the United Kingdom before, but let me just say it's soooo charming.  I arrived in Stansted airport (commonly considered the red-headed stepchild of London airports) and after an hour train ride I arrived in the city.  I was surprised that everything went so well, I didn't get delayed, the acquisition of tickets was simple, and once I arrived at Liverpool Station I just bought a weekly bus ticket for traipsing merrily around the city.  Easy peasy.  I wonder if it was so easy because everything was in... English?  Hard to say.

touristy, i know.  but i do it for the readers.

I had several hours by myself before meeting up with my friend so I hopped on a double-decker red bus and stared out dreamily at the old shops, pubs and tree-lined streets of London.  It's so cliche to say this, but it really is just like the movies, just as you imagine it would be -- classic English architecture, dark wood paneled shops, cobbled streets, and a skyline dotted with impressive monuments.  I felt as though I were in a dream, at least one in which I felt fancy for choosing to drink tea with milk and using an accent to say things were rather splendid and quite lovely.  I went to find the British Museum, easily the largest museum I've ever visited with an incredible collection - among the most notable works are the Rosetta Stone (just saw one of the only copies in the Torino Egyptian Museum a few weeks ago!) and the Elgin Marbles from the Parthenon in Athens, so cool to see them in person after studying them for years!  And the beauty of London museums is that they're all free.  Thanks for that, Parliament.

Trafalgar Square, National Gallery.

I decided to pop in for a tea at a local cafe and had to look hard at my currency to decide which equated a pound sterling.  I figured why not try out my novice British accent during this encounter: milk with that tea?  Why yes, indeed.  And where might I find the lou?  He didn't even blink which must've meant I can get away with this.  Delightful!  I met my high school exchange-student friend Franzi at a pub later -- she is currently back in Germany at Uni (university) and we hadn't seen each other in about 5 years.  Of course it was like no time had passed at all and we had a blast catching up.  We stayed with friends of hers from a semester at the London School of Oriental and African Studies, as it turns out she is now fluent in Swahili and is writing her Master's thesis on education in developing African countries.  Wow!

The European Reunion Tour.

We spent a day doing the requisite tourist excursions: shopping on Oxford Street, Picadilly Circus, London Bridge/Tower Bridge, the river Thames, the Tate Modern, the London Eye, Westminster Abbey and Big Ben.  We rode the London Underground and walked all over the city, making sure to include a necessary stop for fish and chips by the river.  There was so much to see, and I was thankful for every moment!  We were exhausted when we returned to her friends' house and went to a neighborhood pub called Prince George which was warm, quaint and above all authentic!  The next day we had traditional English fry-ups (breakfast) and I tried Egg, Bacon and Bubble (leftover mashed potatoes/spinach patty) while Franzi had baked beans and toast, haha.  Kind of missed Italy for a little bit :)

Nothing quite like Fall in England.

We walked through St. James's Park which was carefully manicured and lined beautifully with centuries-old trees bearing leaves of every imaginable autumn color - so gorgeous - then on to Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery before I had to take an hour-long train ride to Brighton.  I met a friend from Uni there at the seaside city of Brighton, a rather unique town with a famous pier and boardwalk on the English Channel.  She'd prepared a dinner party for me with a Tex Mex theme.  (Let me just say, I don't know how I've gone over 2 months without avocado.  Guacamole might just be sent from heaven.)  We walked around the city and caught up a bit before my train went back to London.  When I returned to London the next morning we walked around SoHo and Convent Garden then attended an Indian themed dinner party at a Scottish girl's house.  The night ended in us deciding to hang out in pubs until my 4AM train ride back to the airport.  We toasted our friendship and a wonderful adventure in the UK.

Brighton Pier and the English Channel.

The trip was almost perfect, except the last hour I realized my phone was missing.  At that point I had to catch the train and there was nothing to be done except mourn the loss of the beloved iphone that was undoubtedly nicked from my pocket on the bus.  Bollocks.  Of course now all I can think about are the great pictures I'd taken on the phone from our trip, but I've got to convince myself it could be worse.  I could've lost my passport :/  All in all it was an amazing trip and I loved every minute of it (except the last hour, which was complete rubbish) -- I can't wait to have the opportunity to travel again!

me and my mate Ben.

Just Gotta Dance

In Italy, my policy is to seize the day, or carpe diem for you folks who enjoy dead languages.  A few of my roommates were having a bad weekend because their Fall Break plans to venture to Napoli fell through.  I suggested a trip to a church upon a mountain that we'd all been eager to see.  We set out early and found the station where we could take a tram to the top of the mountain to see Basilica di Superga.  The girls spent weeks planning their trip but one of them was randomly called by the Italian immigration office to appear on Monday morning so they had to cancel the trip without being fully refunded their money.  The pilgrimage to Superga was well worth the effort and truly turned the day around for everyone.  We reached the top after a 18 minute tram ride and hiked another 100 meters (ish?) to the church.  What we experienced was amazing.

Basilica di Superga

This incredible church was built in the 18th century and now houses the tombs of the Savoy family.  This site is perhaps most well known for a horrible tragedy in 1949.  The community of Superga used to be home to Torino's airport and on a particularly foggy night in 1949 the entire Torino soccer team, 5 time world champions, crashed into the side of the basilica.  It was a particularly tragic event that is still fresh in the minds of many Torinesi and each year on the anniversary of the crash thousands of fans climb the mountain to honor the fallen team.  Here soccer is as much a religion as catholicism, and in talking with several locals about the event, each expresses the fleeting nature of life and the need to truly experience every day in the fullest.  We eat, we drink, we be merry - and that's the Italian way of life that truly inspires me.

After visiting the church we decided to go to Galleria 8, the local shopping mall, to perhaps see a movie or enjoy a pizza at Eataly.  While walking around I spotted a Wii dance competition happening in the center of the mall and I knew I had to try.  I convinced Natalie to join me in defeating a pair of Italian middle school girls who really didn't forsee their imminent demise.  She was reluctant at first but I assured her she couldn't look more ridiculous than me while dancing, and I was right.  Should be good for a laugh:

Check out the video here.

Sporting the shirt I won after winning the Just Dance 2 competition.

I've gotta say it feels pretty good to just let go and not really care what the passersby are thinking (if you notice, we did draw a small crowd).  Oh, and victory feels pretty good as well.  I had a blast just dancing around with Natalie and she was in such a great mood after the competition she completely forgot about the botched trip to Napoli.  I woke up today really energized and feeling blessed to be in such a lovely city surrounded by such history and such beauty.  I told the girls we should visit another baroque church in the afternoon and go see my friend Elisa who works at a local chocolate shop.  We walked around the bustling center of Torino and ducked inside the Basilica della Consolata, an indescribable church with marble and gold embellishments upon every surface.  

Guilded Ceiling of La Consolata

I silently explored the chapels and corridors in awe of all the beauty and glory inside this single building - this country is so extraordinary.  The locals just strolled in, crossed themselves, and sat down on the pews for individual moments of silence.  To have such a work of art within which they can worship, how blessed they are!  Just as praiseworthy is the chocolate shop, Al Bicerin, directly across from La Consolata where my friend Elisa works.  It was built in 1763 and functioned as a neighborhood cafe' and local meeting point for Alexander Dumas, Puccini, and Nietzche among others.  Back then they served a drink called bicerin made with coffee, chocolate and milk cream which you can still enjoy today.  The girls and I escaped the chilly autumn air and settled into a cozy corner table among locals, each enjoying a wine glass full of this delightful beverage.

Bicerin: chocolate, coffee, creamy goodness.

All in all it's been a fantastic weekend.  I marveled at how blessed the Italians are to walk amongst such rich cultural heritage and feel a sense of belonging.  Then I further ruminated on the ways in which I consider myself blessed - every day I have the opportunity to experience such beauty, scale mountains to revere breathtaking monuments, walk along the bustling cobbled streets of the city, happily sip a historical hot chocolate in a centuries-old shop, and even dance in front of complete strangers with reckless abandon.  There's much to be thankful for, and I plan to embrace each day with the same zealous demeanor.

Follow the Leader

What an interesting day.  In Project Management we had to do a leadership practical class which involved me and the German running around the school and surrounding town trying to convince people to let us take pictures of them with silly faces.  This was supposed to demonstrate our ability to lead a team and convince others to follow us.  We received points based on the types of people we photographed: students-3, staff-4, strangers-6 and I was, of course, determined to beat the German.  Now I will admit to having a leg-up on him with my understanding of Italian language, but let's not discount my disarming smile and undeniable charm.  Oh, and feminine wiles.  Doesn't it mean you're a good leader if you can convince 3 guys at a bar who just got out of a funeral to take silly pictures?  Ok, yeah, kind of wrong.  But let's just say the German started gloating too soon with his 108 points, because mamma came back with 178.  This was added in some capacity to my midterm grade, meaning this plus the video presentation got the... what was it again?  Oh yeah, the "A."

Lovely obliging ladies from the administration office

To top things off, this evening I had my didactic debut in an English Conversation lesson.  Me, a teacher.  Ha!  In the interview I made it clear I've never taught any subject before in my life, but the community center called me back last week and offered me the position.  It's one class a week, Tuesday evenings, for adults that want to practice their English in an informal setting.  I realized this weekend I have absolutely no idea how to teach English - I was terrified they were going to ask me about past conditional tenses or indirect pronouns.  Eek!  My current method for helping the foreign roommates is to tell them "this sounds good" and "this doesn't" but I can't explain why, it just is.  Luckily, I had the interwebs to guide me through How to Teach an ESL Conversation Class.

graphic representation of languages in my head.

I watched some podcasts this weekend with tips on how to command a classroom's attention and present a lesson plan.  Today I spent about an hour creating a powerpoint of fun images and questions for the class but I still couldn't wrap my head around being a teacher.  It's almost scary how much freedom is involved in this position, I was told I could talk about whatever I want as long as I am able to judge their level of comprehension/ability.  There were 9 students total and most of them were between 30 and 50 so I was afraid they wouldn't take me seriously with this precious baby face of mine.  Well, I told myself to feign confidence (as I often do when speaking Italian), as this usually works in getting people to listen to you and follow orders.  Well I think it worked.  I started out with a joke in Italian (thank goodness I'm amusing in 2 languages) and it went over rather well.  

I introduced myself and did some games and activities to get them acquainted with each other.  I had them laughing about American culture and British accents that are difficult to understand.  I had them try to guess the capital of Texas and my responses were: Miami, Santa Fe, Houston and Dallas :)  At a certain point I told them to write a few sentences down and a matter of moments later I saw all their little pens writing intently and I thought - wow, these people are actually doing whatever I say, incredible!  Before I knew it 1.5 hours was up and I'd successfully facilitated a course in English Conversation.  Whew!

My favorite part of the lesson was explaining to them the Hook 'Em Horns hand signal used at my University in comparison with that same gesture's significance in their culture -- a mildly offensive sign that your significant other is doing you wrong.  Ahhh, cultural nuances.  Now I just have to worry about what the heck I can talk about for 28 more lessons.  Suggestions welcome.

Today Sucks

The title of this post might just give away how I'm feeling right now.  Ugh, gross.  I finished all my midterms yesterday, felt generally fine about them until I got to class this morning.  Which class has me scowling and feverishly typing from my favorite corner of the library right now?  You guessed it, Accounting.

He gave us our tests back today and I tried not to get my hopes up even though I felt fairly good about it.  Well, the grading was divided among 4 sections at 25% each.  The first section I received 90% correct, the second section 100%, the third... 0%, and the fourth 90%.  Yeah, what?!?  I asked him what he meant by 0% on that specific exercise (which involved math, no surprise I screwed it up) and he said yeaaaah that wasn't what I was looking for.  Well, um, sir, could you give me partial credit here because I obviously set it up properly but didn't use the correct method for the final answer?  Hmm... sorry, your grade is around a 75, but don't worry it's no big deal.

No big deal?  I know these Italians aren't familiar with the American 0-100 grading system because they use 0-30 or something, but 75 is not acceptable!  I studied so *%&@$*%^ hard for this test, you guys don't even understand.  Obviously my %s in the other sections should somehow outweigh a dumb error in math!  I got, well, upset to say the least.  I believe I mentioned in an earlier post that I can be a bit... sensitive at times.  Well I had to leave class and go to the bathroom.  Once I closed the door I starting doing that ugly crying, you know the kind - rapid intake of breath, intermittent sobs, mascara running, all of it.  Next thing I know there's a knock on the door and I have to try to explain my sorry state to Martina, one of the Student Services Coordinators.

back when studying gave me a reason to smile.

I went back to class attempting to retain my dignity.  My classmates patted me on the back and passed me notes of encouragement, but I was just... mad.  I can probably make it up with the final test, but ugggghhhhh this really sucks.  Today sucks.  I mean I've been out of the game for almost 2 years and the first grade I get in grad school is a C.  I guess this means I have no future in accounting, ha.

Also let me mention that going to a small school has its many advantages, but when you're curled up in a ball on the floor of the bathroom sobbing like a baby about your bad Accounting grade, let's just say word travels fast.  I went to find my advisor, the President of the University, and once I entered the waiting area the Registrar and his Executive Assistant both did the tilt-of-the-head + "heeeeeeeeeeey..." ugh, yes, I know you know.  He wasn't there to listen to my rant, so I'm complaining to all of you.  My apologies, but I refuse to be a C student; I simply refuse.

Someone remind me of something I can be thankful for today...

Amendment:  I may have thoroughly upset myself for nothing, folks.  Isn't that embarrassing?  My teacher emailed me this evening and said he reevaluated the results of my exam (I didn't ask him to) and he's decided to give me partial credit, raising my grade to an 82.  He said he found his penalization excessive and though he can't give me more credit, he regrets having graded the exam so severely.  *whew!* Thanks to everyone for all the words of support and kindness, I definitely needed it today, but apparently the anxiety and melancholy was all for naught.  The day seems to have turned around after all.

Manage This!

I've been stressing out this weekend because I've got a 45-minute presentation to do tomorrow for Project Management.  Whaaaat?  45 minutes of pure, unadulterated management-speak?  I'm pretty sure that has to be in the Guinness Book of World Records or something.  How could I muster even 20 minutes worth of anything to say about Project Management?  Arrgggh.  Well, I decided if I'm going to beat the German guy (let's face it, there needs to be an obvious winner when there are only 2 students) I've got to have a wild card.  What can I use in the presentation to not only take up time, but also definitively trump his project?  That's right, I needed a video.

The video project always seems to secure the grade.  I remember making videos with an old tape-deck handheld camcorder as early as middle school with my co-director/actress/producer/etc, Madison.  Our public debut was in 8th grade Science class with Dr. Universe Presents: Newton's First Law of Motion - an informative vignette analyzing the motion of a shoe thrown at a schoolboy by his scorned lover: "A."  We managed to borrow theatre department costumes for an English final in 9th grade titled A Day in the Life of an Elizabethan: "A."  And most recently, with over 14,765 views on YouTube (and hundreds of derisive comments from irate Italians), Mamma Roma in 10 Minuti, a classroom sensation for an Italian course in college: "A."  The numbers don't lie, folks.  Videos, even those with low production value, earn the good grades.

Photo Courtesy L. Shultz Arts Agency

*Watch the Videos*

So Saturday I sat down in my director's chair and dusted off my typewriter to produce what will surely cement my presentation as the best attempt to entertain and educate members of a mock business meeting.  We've got to basically present our semester project and infuse the showcase with any theory/terms/concepts we've learned thus far.  My project is an art exhibition featuring Spanish artists which will take place at the end of the semester under the theme "Sustainability of Self" which I can discuss at length in another post.

Well, I tried for a whole day to upload the video so you all could see it and laugh a little - but it's just not happening.  I know, what a tease.  But I'll tell you it's superbly over-acted and my foreign roommates carried out their lines rather well.  I'm fairly sure there's no way the German can top this one, not while I've got modern technology and powerpoint projection in my back pocket.  Haha!  Wish me luck for tomorrow afternoon :)Watch the Videos

Temple of Cinema

I’ve got midterms in a week.  Yikes.  I don’t know how I’m already halfway through this semester, time seems to be flying by.  And I’m feeling sick :( which, by the way, is made so much worse when you realize your mom is over 5,400 miles away and can’t make you a giant Tupperware full of classic chicken noodle soup and remind you dutifully of everything you should and shouldn't be doing in order to get better.  Sigh.

Despite my feverish symptoms, I chose to follow through with my original Saturday night plan to attend a guided tour through the National Cinema Museum of Torino.  Only 3 of us from school opted to join the tour which was offered in Italian, including a trip to the observation deck and ending with an aperitivo in the Museum Cafe.  I'm so glad I was able to go because this is by far one of the most memorable museum experiences I've ever had!

The Mole Antonelliana.

First of all, the museum is in the Mole Antonelliana, decidedly the most famous landmark of Torino.  The structure was completed in 1863 by Alessandro Antonelli and was originally intended to be a Jewish synagogue.  During the first years of the project, Antonelli's plans for the building shifted and became more ambitious as costs doubled and became too high for the Jewish community.  At this point the capital of Italy had been moved from Torino and the Italian citizens demanded the city take over the project.  For years the Mole existed as the Museum of Italian Independence, but in 2000 it became the National Cinema Museum and is now thought to be the tallest museum in the world at 167 meters (548 feet).  Fun fact: an image of the Mole appears on the back of all the 2-cent euro coins!

Looking up at the dome, the elevator goes straight up the middle of the building!

For those of you who don't know, Italy is actually a historically cinematic hub.  Filmmaking was as innovative and influential here as in Hollywood as Mussolini highly encouraged film production during the fascist era.  Italian films are still considered among the best in comedy, horror, and yes - the spaghetti western!  This museum was ah-mazing.  Not only was it packed to the gills with historic memorabilia, but there were tons of interactive exhibitions.  Magic Lanterns, special effects, themed rooms, and my personal fave, rows upon rows of chaise lounges for sitting and watching films!

View from above, staircases wind up the inside walls where there are temporary exhibitions.

What an experience.  We wandered along with our Italian-speaking guide through a comedy-themed room with toilets placed in rows for viewing funny movies.  We walked through a cut-out of Wiley Coyote into the cartoon-themed rooms, and saw lifelike remakes of different movie sets.  They had cameras set up to superimpose your image real-time into the scene of a movie, then as you ambled along down the hallway you realized your minute of smiling and waving in the camera was delayed and replayed on a big screen for you to see - haha!  The collections of movie memorabilia is enough to make this museum stand apart, but then we rode the glass elevator several hundred feet to the top of the building (think: willy wonka-type vertigo).

View from the top of the Mole: Piazza Vittorio, La Gran Madre.

Wow!  I wish this photo could convey the beauty of the city from that high up.  We could see the neighboring hills, even the Alps.  What a lovely cultural trademark this city has, this museum is such a gem.  It is excursions and discoveries like this that make me truly proud to be specializing in cultural heritage management (if we want to call it that).  Sometimes I think Italy is so spoiled to have all this rich cultural history, I mean there are museums of this caliber nearly EVERYWHERE in this country and I can't think of one museum that could be considered this impressive in Austin.  Hate to say it, but it's true.  That needs to change.  

Well, I must say I'm constantly impressed by this city and what it has to offer, I simply cannot wait to discover even more!