When One Door Closes...

Another one's supposed to open, right?  Step 3 on wikiHow's "How to Handle Rejection" page suggested writing a blog post, so here I am staring blankly at the metaphorical door that just slammed in my face this afternoon.  My application for an internship at the Guggenheim in Venice wasn't accepted.  I've just packed all my emotional baggage and moved to DisappointedTown, population: 1.  *Sigh*  What's most bothersome is how bloody qualified I am for this position.  I have plenty of experience and proven initiative along with a degree in Art History, one in Italian, and a Master's in the works - what more could they want, exactly?  I also have to admit I'm not used to rejection.  It's part of life, I know.  We can't always get what we want, blah blah blah, but whyyyyy?  I work hard.  I play hard, granted, but it's because I've worked hard enough to merit the occasional day trip to a neighboring village or a sinfully caloric 3-flavored gelato.

I did my homework, ergo I deserve this.

Well, they did specify on the website that it wasn't recommended to apply during the summer due to the high volume of candidates, but heck it's the only time I can do the darn thing.  I was somewhat anticipating a negative response, which is why I applied to the National Gallery in DC as well, but I'll be honest and say I felt rather confident I would be accepted.  I've always been accepted.  (How obnoxious do I sound right now? Sorry.)  But really, I'm awesome; feel free to check my facts on that.  I guess just not by European standards.  They probably have candidates who've done some junior curatorship at the Louvre or a conservation apprenticeship at the Uffizi, who knows.  Europeans.  They have all the history, and now they have all the jobs too!  My professor was telling me when she worked at Christie's in London they had an arrangement with the Guggenheim in Venice and they always had 2 spots for "the best" students, or really the ones with the most money or those whose parents were on the list of donors.  C'est la vie.

Unflattering as it may be, this was taken in Venice and currently reflects my mood.

I know, I've got to look at the positive side.  Everything happens for a reason; something more suitable for me will present itself and all will be fine.  It just sucks not always getting what you want, you know?  But I am glad I at least tried.  I put a lot of effort into the application and I even had my name circulating in a few stateside prayer groups to boost my odds for success.  The more I live in this world the more I realize it still really is just about who you know and oftentimes what you know is irrelevant.  Yet in learning more we are exposed to new ideas, fresh points of view, concepts that challenge us -- and through this experience we can hone our skills, discover new interests and develop as intellectual beings.

Hard to be sad when life (and the pizza/beer combo) is so good.

It's a rather vulnerable situation, applying for jobs, putting yourself out there describing your wants, dreams and ambitions, only to be rejected by someone who hasn't even met you (or read your blog, for that matter!)  But I'm realizing that the very reason I'm saddened by this situation is the reason I'll be able to quickly overcome it.  I know I'm an excellent candidate; I have the experience, the passion, and the determination to land a job or internship in my field and I won't stop trying to succeed.  I want to learn, to grow, to make my family proud, to realize my potential.  I want to self-actualize and a "no" from the Guggenheim isn't going to throw a wrench in my plan.  Heck, summers in Venice would be tourist-ridden and generally insufferable anyway.  Plus I hear it gets muggy, and Lord knows I don't like being sweaty.

Bologna/Ravenna

And so I return from another Italian weekend adventure, exhausted yet exhilarated.  Georgina and I took the train early Friday morning about 3.5 hours across Northern Italy to the lovely region of Emilia Romagna.  We arrived in Bologna around lunchtime to find a slightly more populated and portico-ed version of our beloved Torino.  The youth demographic is staggering as the city boasts the world's oldest university established in 1088.  The sun was out all weekend as well as the locals, and coupled with the earth tones of the limitless porticoes - there was a certain warmth that I found truly refreshing.

kilometers of covered walkways.

We walked along the covered avenues, stopping at a small trattoria mentioned in one of Georgina's guidebooks to grab some tagliatelle alla bolognese.  I know it's touristy, but I can't very well go to Bologna and NOT try pasta alla bolognese - and good thing I did because it was ah-may-ziiiing!  That certain warmth I was talking about even translated into great service.  Our waiter was excited to inform us all the pasta was made fresh in house, though that warmth may have been too much when he went to grab my menu and "accidentally" let his hand linger on top of mine.  Creeper alla Bolognese.

that's what I'm talking about.

After this delicious meal we headed to the two towers of Bologna, the oldest of which, Torre Garisenda, was built in the 12th century but foundational problems lent to a Pisa-like lean.  The taller of the two is Torre Asinelli and tourists are invited to climb the 498 steps to the very top where the view of the city can only be described as breathtaking (as if the climb wasn't already).  In an even more touristy fashion I decided to take a video with ye olde iphone to commemorate the feat from 90+ meters above the city.

*Watch the Video Here*

Following the descent back to ground level we promptly decided our recent undertaking merited a celebratory gelato.  (As a sidenote, other things that merit a gelato pitstop are: successfully passing an exam,  finding a 2-euro coin in your pocket, and simply spotting a gelateria on any and every street corner).  We sat on the steps in front of Basilica San Petronio in the giant Piazza Maggiore at the center of Bologna to enjoy our ice cream.  The sun was beginning to set, families were out and about, other students sat across the steps, pigeons cooed and searched for scraps, a bell tolled at the clock tower, and that moment was somehow endless.

me in piazza maggiore.

Later we checked out the University and the National Picture Gallery, then we met up with our host for the evening - a friend of a friend who agreed to show us around and provide a place to sleep.  Again, I must underline the unbelievable sense of selfless hospitality here.  Enrico took us on a walking tour of Bologna by night, showed us some places popular among locals, and even ordered us Campari Spritz with a slice of orange so we could experience a true night in the city.  The next morning he prepared us a caffe (espresso by our terms) and we were off to Ravenna, a smaller medieval town known in particular for its illustrious mosaics.

Basilica di San Vitale.

An hour and a half later we arrived and were surprised to be greeted by buses upon buses of tourists - many more than Bologna.  We traversed the small historic center, stopping in the many churches and admiring the area's incredible talent for the mosaic craft.  Basilica di San Vitale was by far the most mesmerizing sight to behold, with every surface covered in the grandest detail by tiny shimmering tiles that somehow come together to depict elaborate scenes.  One of the main attractions in Ravenna is the tomb of Dante, which we were both very excited to behold.  The remains of one of the greatest poets known across the world can be found here (much to the chagrin of the Florentines who exiled him during his last years and would desperately like him back).

which is it, I wonder?  paradiso - purgatorio - inferno

Soon after we headed back to Bologna and had a few hours to check out the huge neighborhood markets before catching the train back to Torino.  We had a lovely time, saw a lot of indescribable art, enjoyed some true Italian hospitality and were able to experience Italy from a new point of view.  Can't really beat those weekend plans.

Aosta

I'm a few days behind on catching you guys up - do forgive me, as the life of a jet-setter is all but insipid.  Lately I've been doing that dastardly task you all know as homework, in addition I'm working on cataloguing items for the Anthropology Museum, and recently my Urban Development professor has enlisted me in correcting the English on his cultural association's website.  Add to that my weekend attempts to visit neighboring cities and you've got one busy lady.  

Aosta: historical center covered in snow!

On Saturday morning the roommates and I awoke at the ungodly hour of 7AM to catch a train north to the Valle d'Aosta.  Aosta Valley is a small autonomous region north of Piedmont bordering France and nestled gently in the frigid arms of the Alps.  Let me tell you that we couldn't have picked a more inconvenient day to visit this bilingual mountain region, for the reasons were two: there were apparently some strikes with the train employees (go figure, this is Europe) and this was the one day in months that it snowed in North Italy.  Now I know I can hardly complain about weather since those of you in Texas are experiencing a freak cold snap (*imagine me doing an animated snap motion here*) but bear with me on this one.  We rode the crowded train 2 hours north with possibly every middle-aged couple in Turin looking to have a fun day at the fair.

I'd fit right in with Renaissance fashion, I think.

At this point I should tell you my fun crazy weekend plan was visiting the annual Fiera di Sant'Orso (Festival of Saint Orso) or more commonly the annual Woodcarving/Folk Festival.  How old am I, again?  Yeah, I might as well be receiving AARP informational packets in the mail because I spent all afternoon in the snow elbow-to-elbow with a crowd that enjoys antiquing, a good game of pinocle, and probably telling everyone about their latest home renovations.  Even so, this festival is a tradition dating back to the year 1000 when Saint Orso, a hermit and mountain craftsman, brought down his handcrafted "bowls of friendship" to give to the less fortunate and share a traditional drink of very strong coffee and alcohol during the cold winter months.  Ever since then the artisans of the Aosta Valley have perfected their craft and gathered once a year to sell their goods and have a 2-day festival honoring the saint.

an example of the incredible talent seen at the festival

The day was quite enjoyable - the stands and booths were many and the crowd must have numbered in the thousands.  The constant falling of snow made the slow ambling of a festival turn into a huddled mass of people pushing through the streets, umbrellas bopping you in the head and snow accosting your red little face.  Yes, maybe I am too Texan for this weather.  At a certain point snow stops being a delicate blanket of white and it turns into the reason I start seriously worrying I may never have use of my toes again.  But the festival was lovely, artisans from all over the region were exhibiting their handmade goods: sculptures, bowls, utensils, tables, chairs, clothing, books, toys, wooden flowers, clocks - anything you could imagine being realized in wood, it was there.  We walked for hours along the ancient streets of Aosta and along the fortified walls, hearing both French and Italian being spoken across the crowds.  We stopped in the early afternoon for a plate of cheesy polenta and sausages being stirred in a huge iron pot by several burly old italian men.  I must say it was delicious and well worth the troublesome weather we endured all day.

frosty flowers made of wood

I purchased a cutting board from an old vendor lady who had been shaping and sculpting wood for years in the ancient traditions of the Aosta Valley.  This should be an excellent mate for my fancy new knife I received at Christmas and lead to some noteworthy cooking adventures.  Luckily we made it home despite being delayed a few hours due to train strikes.  I'm looking forward to the many wonderful experiences that await me here in the boot-shaped country - I just can't get enough of learning, exploring, honing my knowledge and expanding my opportunities!