The end.

I wrote this entry yesterday while I was on the plane, so keep all the timing in mind...

Ciao all,

It’s hard to believe how fast the time has gone by. Nine months seems like nothing now, especially because I can relive my first days in Florence down to the hour. Our last week consisted of countless hours of studying (which we resented considering the fact that our days were severely numbered), rushed shopping sprees for the last-minute things, wild nights out, and insane binge-eating of anything Italian we could find. Since my last update that brought a few tears to my eyes, I’ve both studied for and taken my Italian Literature exam, encompassing the works of the Sicilian writer, Giovanni Verga. Exam day was full of pressure, as expected, seeing that I always stress the poor organization of the Italian education system. Claudio (our tutor, if I haven’t mentioned him before) had signed us up for the exam and we had been scheduled to take ours in positions 1 and 2. We were very excited and anxious to get it over with, so we had been thankful to be the highest on the list.

Naturally though, things never seem to go according to plan with the Italian university. We arrived at 8:30 am on exam day to find out that there had been two other “hidden” lists, for different students. So right there, we moved from numbers 1 and 2 to numbers 6 and 7. The worst part about the whole Italian-style exam is the actual waiting experience. Each person’s one-on-one session with the teacher was scheduled to take 30 minutes, so that put me, the first of Kevin and I, scheduled to take the exam around noon. I was tired of studying, so we sat there for 4 hours chatting with Italians who were completely freaking out, and playing games on Kevin’s iPhone. According to us, what we didn’t know at that point we weren’t going to learn under stress, the last few hours leading up to the exam. So, we threw in the towel.

Because Italians are so wild about their mid-morning coffee breaks, good ol’ Professor Bruscagli decided to take his right before giving me my exam. Watching student number five exit his office with a smile on her face was a good sign, and it caused me to jump out of my seat, ready for my fate. However, I suffered from the false alarm when Bruscagli followed behind the student, announcing that he was going for a coffee. “Great,” I thought, “another half-hour stuck in this window-less building on such a beautiful day.”

When Bruscagli returned, I finally got my chance at showing him what I had sweated over since February. I was very nervous and shaky, but tried my best to look calm. However, when you’re speaking in a foreign language, one can hear the uneasiness immediately. My excellent grammar skills had pretty much flown out the window as soon as I asked him permission to close his office door. (Italian exams are a public event; anyone can sit in and listen if they want to). He sighed and said something like, “Yeah, if you want. I guess you Americans aren’t used to taking oral exams, let alone public ones.” So right then and there, we started the exam. The first few questions I knew very well. I know I sounded like a complete fool because I just blurted out everything I had studied in no specific order. The final question however, was one that I hoped he wouldn’t ask me. I knew exactly what he was referring to when he said the “Sciascia article,” but I conveniently attempted to compare it to the article that it was positioned next to in my book, as I knew more about that one and Sciascia had completely escaped me. To be honest though, I actually didn’t study any of Verga’s critics too closely because I had been so focused on the novellas, his short stories that were the basis for the exam. Claudio had told us that the critics would be supplementary material, information to add to a conversation about one of the novellas. When I completely bombed that question, I assumed that it had brought me from a 30 to a 26 or something, considering that fact that I literally knew NOTHING of Sciascia and that Bruscagli was known to be a tough grader.

With that last question, he digressed and said “Well, I know that you (meaning collectively, Americans) have studied. I’ve seen you in my lessons, and you’ve taken the class seriously. So, I’m going to give you a 29/30.” I was blown away, and soooo relieved. I escaped as fast as possible. Kevin followed after me and received a 28, and Claudio, who was present and anxiously waiting the results, was very proud. When it was time for us to get out of there, Claudio popped his head in and thanked Professor Bruscagli. Apparently he said to Claudio, “Well, they knew the material, but their Italian…” and while saying that, he made some sort of negative, Italian person’s gesture. Guess he wasn’t interested in considering that fact that we were very nervous and probably speaking in stream of consciousness. And, above all, we were taking his class to practice and use our Italian in an intelligent way, not because we had an insane interest in reading Verga, an author I had never even heard of before second semester.

With that, we had finished with the Italian education system and nerve-wracking pressure that we could never have become completely comfortable with. We were out by 1 pm, just in time to meet everyone else with Maria and Piero for a farewell cappuccino. Right after all the exhilaration, it was pretty painful to say goodbye to Maria and Piero, easily the most genuine, fabulous and wise Italian couple that I have ever been privileged to know. After saying goodbye, I spent the rest of the day running errands and enjoying the sunshine, knowing that I had no studying waiting for me. We went out that night to an outdoor techno concert that was a bit of a flop, as I think we arrived a little later than we probably should have. We also witnessed the results of a fatal moped accident, sheeted body and all. Needless to say, that put the icing on the cake for an unpleasant night that we would have rather avoided.

That day and night passed in a blur and now we arrive at yesterday. It was a disgustingly rainy day, but I woke up early to meet Elia (our cultural adviser) for a goodbye breakfast. The only others to make it so early on that gloomy day were Maggie Rossi and Maggie Wright. Elia had 95 euro remaining that he had to spend on us, so we just went crazy at a café, picking out every sweet, croissant and quiche that looked appetizing. It was really enjoyable, even though not many of us were there.

After breakfast, I spent some time walking around alone and soaking in whatever I could of my last day in Florence. My window-shopping on the Ponte Vecchio turned into real shopping when I bought a gold-plated, Florentine style filament ring. I had been looking for a gold-colored ring that wouldn’t turn my finger green and there was no way that I could afford gold, so I was delighted when I found this ring for 22 euro. It was much more in my price range. I met Andrea, Grace, Jeff and Carla for our final lunch at Borgo Antico at 1:30 and I ate a great veggie pizza. Then, we walked over to Gelateria Carraia, one that I had really wanted to try because everyone else had already had the chance to do so. I got the flavors “After Eight,” “Yogurt and Nutella,” and “Cookies.” It was fabulous, but still doesn’t compare to my all-time favorite gelateria- Vestri. I can taste my favorite flavors so perfectly when I think about it.

Yesterday afternoon, we had crisis in the Maria Pia- Andrea- Elsa household while we packed.  As far as space goes, I had guessed really well in my packing, but I was having some too-close-for-comfort weight issues. I had no idea how accurate or inaccurate Maria Pia’s scale was, so I did my best to be as close to 23 kg per bag, without going over. One was over by .8 and I was kind of banking on the airlines giving me a break. Poor Andrea’s flight was leaving from Milan (not Florence, like mine), so she had to drag her luggage on the train by herself to Milan central station, and then take a bus from the station to the airport. She had a HUGE problem with the weight and I’m pretty sure she decided just to accept the inevitable fees that came along with overweight baggage.

Maria Pia’s final dinner with us was delicious, as expected. She made my favorite pasta, spaghetti, olive oil, garlic and pepperoncino for our primo piatto. For our secondo, she made chicken cordon bleu, salad, and stuffed tomatoes. We LOVED the stuffed tomatoes. Earlier in the day while we packed, Maria Pia had given us her gift, a Toscana calendar and little Florentine mementoes, which were all very cute. So after dinner, we gave her our gifts. Together, Andrea and I had bought a beautiful hand-engraved silver frame from the metal artisan that Elisa had taken us too early on in the year. We inserted a cute picture of the three of us from our joint birthday celebration that Maria Pia had thrown for us in January. I alone gave her a set of beautiful stationary from a really famous store, called Pineider. In her letter, I told her that the purpose of the stationary was to keep in contact with me. She was very moved. Andrea gave her a gift certificate to a bookstore in the city center. All in all, Maria Pia was very excited with her gifts and I was so pleased to present them to her.

Last night, Maggie Rossi, Carla, Andrea, Kevin, Grace, Jeff and I met up on Piazzale Michelangelo for some champagne and quality time during our last few hours. It was a picture perfect night looking down on Florence, but my camera was unable to capture the beauty that we were fortunate enough to admire. We sat on the cement stairs where a bunch of different groups were seated, and Maggie began a toast by pouring us all champagne. Each of said something, every speech equally moving. Following our reflection session on a perfect year, we were rudely interrupted by 4 wasted Welsh boys, who were singing incredibly loudly and chugging bottle after bottle of wine. When Grace said something to us that I suppose these boys thought amusing, they found an opening and came over to talk to us all. In the beginning, they were all very presumptuous and rude, insulting Americans through their slurred vocabularies. I spent a good 15 minutes ignoring all of them well Carla requested tunes for them to sing. With time though, we all started talking a little bit more. Some were cooler than others, but there was one kid who was a complete fool. He and Grace seemed to have a bit of a personality clash, as they spent a good while insulting each other back and forth. This kid was way out of line and too egotistical for me, so I told him that he was definitely the most annoying person that I had ever met and that he’d have been better off staying quiet. (Yes, that was the best I could come up with. I’m not really good at dishing it out.)

After our lengthy fights, conversations and jokes, we walked Maggie home because she had an exam early the next day and it was already 1 am. The rest of us made an attempt to go dancing but the club (Twice) reeked of European B.O. so we got out of there as quickly as possible. We then gave some drunk kids directions to their hostel and walked to Piazza della Repubblica and said our goodbyes. We all took turns hugging and talking to each other one by one. We were exhausted and emotional and really feeling the reality of the end of our amazing experience together. We all got in our respective cabs and went home.

For the past two weeks or so, I had been bothered by the fact that I hadn’t shed a single tear between all the goodbyes and gifts. Even at Piazza della Repubblica, I was shockingly one of the kids with the dry eyes. Typically, I’m one of the emotional ones, so I really beat myself up about the fact that I couldn’t seem to cry. I didn’t even feel a build-up or desire to and it made me feel uncomfortable, as if I had been ungrateful and unable to recognize the amazing year that I’d had. I did my best to let it go and imagined that I would have had an explosion of tears at some point. I guessed that my chances of that happening were most likely at the airport.

I went to bed around 3:30 am and woke up at 5:45 am to give myself ample time for the physical and mental preparation for my departure from the country that I had inhabited for the past 9 months. I weighed my suitcases a final time and tucked away my teddy bears. I took pictures of all the rooms in the house and then had my final, Maria Pia breakfast. She had made my favorite cake- apple, and also served me a yogurt and a cup of tea, as usual. I ate slower than I normally do, as the reality of my departure was finally starting to hit me hard and I was stricken with nausea. Maria Pia got herself ready, and we were out the door by 7:30 with 3 enormous suitcases, one backpack, one purse, and two heavy hearts.

At the airport, I grabbed one of those carts and thought about how lucky I was to have Maria Pia, willing to take me to the airport. I knew that most of the other kids would be taking taxis and, expenses aside, I was incredibly grateful for her presence. Once the suitcases were out of the car, I had told her to go home. However, she insisted on coming inside with me, which I ended up being incredibly thankful for, during the disaster that we faced.

We got ourselves into what we thought was the line, and were called forward by one of the attendants, who freshly told us that we were in the wrong line and needed to wait in the “Economy” line, “just like everybody else.” We were immediately rubbed the wrong way. When we arrived at the same woman about 5 minutes later, she started to weigh my bags. I was well aware that I would be paying for a third bag, so her rudely telling me that I would be shelling out 160 euro for that didn’t bother me. What bothered me is the fact that she spoke ENGLISH to Maria Pia, who was visibly lost by it and really only trying to help me. In weighing my bags, each was overweight by a kilogram or less, and she told me that I would have to pay 120 euro for each overweight bag. Then, she weighed my purse and carry-on together (which I’ve never seen done) and they totaled 14 kilograms, while they “should have” collectively weighed only 8. The fees that she rattled off to me caused my immediate waterworks, and this stupid woman didn’t even flinch. She said “get out of line and come back when you have figured it out.” At the end of that awful encounter, I had to tearfully explain the whole thing over again to Maria Pia, who was rudely ignored by this woman. She was so calm but felt horrible for me, as I was desperate. She did point out the fact that she was pretty sure our oh-so-friendly attendant wasn’t Italian.

I tore open my bags and did what I could to re-arrange and throw things out. The toss-able things that I found were minimal, and only totaled a kilogram between all 5 of my different bags. Maria Pia collected me and rushed me back over to the lines, as she saw that the rude attendant was busy harassing another customer. The second a nicer-looking attendant became available, she shuffled me and my stuff over to the respective counter as quickly as possible, with me hyperventilating at her side. I was still as pleasant as possible because even in situations of panic, anger doesn’t solve anything. Our new attendant couldn’t find my permission slip to check two bags without charge (when I left in August, the rules still included two free checked bags. As of January, it’s been changed to one. I had called the company and  been told that I would be permitted two.). Fortunately, I had printed out the flight change confirmation that blatantly stated my allowance for two checked pieces. Saved there, thank goodness. Maria Pia hustled my 3 overweight bags onto the belt, and the check-in process continued onward without our friendlier attendant saying a word about the slightly overweight situation. Maria Pia did a great job chatting her up, talking about the fact that I faced a grand challenge packing for 3 seasons, etc. The lady sent me off to pay for the one extra piece, and that all went fairly smoothly.

When I returned to the desk, my three enormous bags were gone, my boarding passes were ready, and the attendant had given my carry-on/purse combo a quick glance, an “OK” and a smile. We breathed a huge sigh of relief, narrowly escaping about 400 euro in fines. Maria Pia and I walked to the exit and she explained that when she had been conversing with the attendant, she had been able to confirm that our original attendant was not Italian, and was actually driving the other two check-in attendants crazy. All I have to say is God bless those who can see our sides of the story and know what it’s like to be a passenger dealing with the complicated airline industry.

Maria Pia gave me a brief speech on staying well, saying hi to people, and returning soon. I started crying in her arms and she started to cry too, which I was touched to see because she hasn’t found the reason to cry very much following her 2 painful divorces. We separated and I made it through security senza problemi and full of tears. See, I knew the tears were waiting to burst out at some point. The first leg from Florence to Frankfurt was uneventful. We arrived a half hour late and I got an immediate flashback of my Christmas horror story, so I booked it through the terminal, knocking through anyone in my way. It’s not like I’m going to see them again, right? I was unsure as to the size and distances within the airport, so I wasn’t risking a thing. I arrived at my gate, 10 minutes before boarding. Then, I finally stopped sweating.

So here I am on the plane, sitting in my chosen aisle seat and enjoying the concentration I am putting towards my final blog entry. We just breaked for what I guess would be lunch, even though the time has me all confused. I received a rude awakening by the spaghetti we ate and had the sad “I’m not in Italy anymore” realization. I would probably compare this spaghetti to a high-end play dough. Very appetizing. Maybe this diet I’m putting myself on will be easier than I thought, considering the fact that I’m pretty sure no food will be as good as Italy’s food and therefore, not worth eating.

For those of you who have made it to this point in my epic entry, bravi, because I am on page 6 in Microsoft Word and I’ve still got a ways to go! Allow me to digress with the list I have been compiling, the highs and lows of my nine-month, Italian experience.

What I will miss:

Pizza the Italian way- while I have always loved American pizza, the freshness of the ingredients and lack of soupy oil on the Italian pizzas have really made them winners in my book.

Piazzas- most likely the best architectural concept, certain to automatically relax a person

The Italian pace of life- while I had difficulty adjusting to what I thought was laziness in the beginning, I now appreciate the time that Italians devote daily to food, family and rest. That’s why everyone looks so much younger and lives so much longer.

Italian children- There’s nothing funnier than talking to a 5-year old who speaks better Italian than I do.

Public drinking- Yes, I’m guilty of the regular wine-drinking session on the Ponte Vecchio. The view is too breathtaking to miss for a drink, so why not do them both at the same time!?

The “pausa”- an Italian phenomenon that happens around 10:30-11:00 am when everyone heads to the “bars” for a cappuccino.

The cappuccino- I actually hate coffee, but there is a special place in my heart for Italian cappuccino. They have really mastered the art of coffee-making, from the dainty cup to the heart form that they create in the milk foam.

Outdoor discotecas- there is nothing better than breaking it down and sweating half as much as you would dancing inside.

Wine- Italy is wine capital. It’s cheap and delicious, so there’s not much else to say here.

Shopping- even though the supermarkets are strictly food and your shampoo must be bought only at the pharmacy, EVERYTHING can be easily found on the streets of Florence with a little extra thinking.

Italian family/friends- I now have discovered a whole other half to my life and people that I will love and appreciate forever.

Sitting down to dinner every night- As they always say “a family that eats together, stays together.”

I can guarantee that there is more, but I think that sums up most of the aspects of my life abroad.

What I can most certainly live without:

Senegalese immigrants- I think I’ll be able to breathe easier now that I won’t be followed around Florence by these horrendously smelling men, saying “Ciao bella” and trying to sell me tissues, umbrellas or light-up Duomos.

White-faced gypsy women- By saying “white face,” I am literally referring to the white paint that they cover themselves in while they chase people (and me) around, begging for money, making freaky kissing noises, and giving me the finger.

Every-day bus travel and etiquette- It’s hot, it smells like B.O., people fight for seats, people pick-pocket, there is yelling, babies cry, it’s never on time, it doesn’t come, the company goes on strike at random. It’s just a terrible combination and system.

Albanian men- They never tire of hitting on American girls that don’t speak Italian. They use the girls’ lacking knowledge of the language to convince them they are Italian themselves, and then they try to seduce the girls. They never won with our group.

Chain-smoking 14-year-old Italians- Italy definitely needs to crack down on the smoking problem

Italian drivers- They are MANIACS on the road.

Mosquitoes- Because Italian homes don’t typically have screens on their windows, the little critters enter by night and attack your body. The results are far bigger than those in America, and I don’t know why.

The University system- Everyone already knows my opinion, as I’ve ranted about it in probably ¼ of my entries.

Ridiculous superstitions- for example, Maria Pia thinks pepper (the spice) is terrible for you and clogs your arteries. Maggie Rossi’s host mom thinks ice is bad to put in your drinks. Maria Pia thinks that drenching foods in olive oil after they’ve been cooked is healthier than cooking olive oil with food. I will never understand where these ideas come from.

So in the end, this year abroad has taught me so much that I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I have made some incredible friendships with such wonderful people. In thinking about my relationships with the other Holy Cross students, I am so grateful for the design of our study abroad program. Because there were only eight of us for a full nine months, we learned the good and the bad of one another and also learned to adapt to different personalities. Had we been in social situations where we could choose our friends from different groups, we never would have learned what it means to acclimatize and create friendships with those who you wouldn’t necessarily choose as friends from the beginning. Being able to feel so comfortable around each other is what made the year so successful and fun. No one was ever ashamed to get crazy, or cry, or fall on his or her face. And, I’m only now finding the words for all that I would have loved to have said to my friends last night. On top of benefitting tremendously from my full-Italian immersion, I have learned tolerance, acceptance and self-discovery, and I couldn’t be more proud with this huge milestone that I have overcome both individually, and with my group. While I feared the intensity of Holy Cross’ program, I now completely understand their thinking and would always recommend what I did to others. Host families are a golden opportunity for immersion and cultural acceptance. Staying for two semesters provides for the perfect balance between traveling Europe and creating a life for yourself in your respective host country. While there were many low points, those were the scenarios from which I have learned the most, as they have taught me how to enjoy the good as fully as possible.

I’m now three hours from the “real world” and preparing to close the most memorable chapter, and best year of my life. Adjusting back to the life I left in August is going to be a huge challenge, and I know that a lot of my friends may not understand the things that will upset me at home, but I’m going to work through it all as best as I can, and have an amazing senior year at Holy Cross.

Well all, thanks for reading my 9-month blog, and let’s hope that when this plane lands, my 3 overweight bags have made the journey along with me.

Baci e abbracci,

Elsa

A "light lunch" with Maria

A few days ago, Maria proposed the idea to use the gift card (that we had given her as a thank you for a great year) to take all 8 of us out to lunch. We were very flattered by her unnecessary gesture and happily accepted the invitation. So, today at 12:15, we met outside of CLIDA and walked to the beautiful 5-star plus hotel, called Hotel Helvetia & Bristol, for what Maria and Piero called a "light lunch." The hotel is absolutely gorgeous. Before entering the dining room, we had aperitivo in the lobby on velvet couches while admiring beautiful paintings hanging on the wall. We drank prosecco and snacked on olives, pistachios, peanuts and potato chips. Mmmm :)

Our table was beautifully set and Maria and Piero had already picked a set menu for the 10 of us, which was delicious. We started with vegetable lasagna which was lightly fried in a rounded crepe-type of pasta. It was probably one of the best lasagnas that I had ever tasted. Then, they brought out an arugula, parmesan, braesola and olive salad that was incredible. Sadly, I couldn't finish it all because I was so full. For dessert we had chocolate, vanilla and hazelnut gelato in one of those cone bowls. The entire meal was out of this world and we had a great time chatting with Maria and Piero.

At the end of the lunch, we took a great group photo and shed some tears (again) for the amazing relationship that we had built with Maria and the chapter in our lives that is coming to a close. Maria and Piero are such wonderful people and I'm so thankful to have come to know them so well. We'll be writing each other and calling as often as possible.

After we said goodbye, a few of us sat in Piazza della Reppublica for a while to soak up the sun and then we bought some books for next year's Italian class at Holy Cross. Then, everyone else had to go to tutoring, so I walked around the center and bought a few last-minute things and then did some window shopping on the Ponte Vecchio. I don't know why I torture myself. Now I have a ring idea in my head that I'll never be able to afford. I'll keep searching.

We're all staying in tonight because last night was pretty crazy and because everyone has a final exam on Monday. Mine is on Tuesday, so I fortunately have one extra day to study. To be quite honest though, I'd rather just get the thing over with. I think I'll just pack my bags a little bit tonight to get myself ready. I don't want to spend my last day in Florence packing.

On a side note, Miss Maggie Rossi found a great video of Dario Cecchini on the Bertolli website. Dario is the out-of-his-mind butcher that runs the restaurant, McDario in Chianti. Piero and Maria took us there in April, and we had a great time, so I thought I'd throw the video up here so that everyone could see how whacked out (and brilliant) this man is. I didn't realize that he was so world-famous! Aren't we lucky?!

A dopo!

Why America needs to change over to the Metric System

Before I get into the meat of this blog entry, I'd like to point out that we all did fabulously well on our Storia del Costume final today. I got a 30/30 and was as a result, very pleased to close those books for good. No more conversations on fashion terms; that subject's all over! I will miss little Isabella Bigazzi, though. She was such an adorable professor. Today she and I, aside from completing the oral exam, talked about how much I supposedly "loved fabrics" and appreciated their wealth and value. Grace reported that during her exam, the two of them talked about Grace's awesome jewelry, a topic brought up completely by our professor.

Anyway, after the exam, we all felt great and spent the whole day getting last minute souvenirs for people. Andrea and I returned home around 6:00 and started cooking the reason why America needs to change over to the Metric System. A few weeks ago, we had told Maria Pia that we wanted to make her an American BBQ, and we chose this evening to see it through.

Our menu consisted of cheeseburgers, corn on the cob, dilled potato salad, pasta salad, and chocolate chip cookies. The hardest ingredients to find were brown sugar and dill, but with a little searching in the American stores, we ended up with everything we needed. All to be cooked went fairly well, considering the fact that we had a lot of trouble properly converting and then cutting each recipe in half to be served to only 3 people. The problems escalated with the chocolate chip cookies, since baking is supposed to be a fairly exact science. We did our best to convert from cups to grams and to properly divide the recipe, but we ended up with more of a cookie cake than individual cookies. When we watched the cookies melting together in the oven before our eyes, we determined that perhaps we had needed more flour. They ended up tasting more or less the same, but just looked like squares instead of circles!

Maria Pia loved it all, especially the potato salad and cookies. She had 6 cookies! This was the one day that she chose to break the diet she's been working very hard on and I'm really glad that she felt that our dinner merited it. She's always making us these fabulous Italian meals, so she certainly deserved to try an American tradition.

However, all this ladies and gentlemen, is why America needs to chill out and convert to the Metric System. We're the last ones in the world on the senseless system and we really need to get with the program!

Tomorrow, we are meeting our Italian Professor from Holy Cross (Professor Amatangelo) for lunch. She is visiting with her family from the States. I can't wait!

Ciao!

One of the best weekends in Florence

Ciao everyone!

As the title states, yes, this was one of the best weekends ever. It all started on Thursday (we were a little antsy to kick it off) when Jeff put his brilliant plan of "Tourist Week" into action. To be honest, I was a little skeptical about what he was trying to do when I received his Facebook invite, but I humored him. I'm thrilled I did so because we had a blast. In this Facebook invite, Jeff explained that he wanted for us to enjoy Florence together before leaving and that he wanted to have the opportunity to take pictures of the typical tourist sites that he had never gotten around to photographing. He instructed us to dress as "obnoxious American tourist" as possible, with maps in hand, cameras around our neck, and sweatshirts tied on our hips. Jeff would play our "tour guide" and lead us around Florence, while we pretended that we had no idea where we were and made a lot of noise.

On Thursday morning, we met in Piazza della Reppublica, and we were all pleasantly surprised to see how seriously everyone had taken this Tourist week. We looked like fools, basically. Jeff had bought old man glasses, wore high socks, high-waisted shorts, gym sneakers, a backwards hat, and carried an extended umbrella (as all the Florence tour guides do to keep everyone following behind). Carla had crazy-looking sunglasses with the lenses popped out, a "Texas" shirt, really weird denim shorts, high socks, high-top converses, pig tails, and a backpack. I did my best with what I had, but I had purposely left all American looking things at home in the US. I wore Paul's Westminster Lacrosse t-shirt, as lacrosse doesn't even exist in Europe. I tied a sweatshirt around my waist and wore a satchel that I borrowed from Maria Pia that had "Swan Tours" written on it. Everyone else looked pretty hilarious too.

We started with Bloody Mary's at 11:00 at this chic cafe in Piazza della Repubblica, Paszkowski. We looked like complete fools and somehow still managed to be asked out by one of the Italian waiters. He invited us to go dancing and his name was Giuseppe Acquafredda, which means "Joseph Cold Water." HA. We never called him. We had a great time making a scene at the bar and being silly. When we left, we followed behind Jeff, asking him where the Duomo was and what country we were in. We took touristy pictures in front of the Duomo and some real American tourists thought we looked so funny that they asked to take a picture of us. We all posed with our hands as peace signs. Most people seemed to understand that we were making fun of tourists, and weren't actually serious. So, that's probably a good thing. We walked around some more and then bought some wine coolers to draw more attention to ourselves. We actually passed by a legitimate tour group that commented "Hey! That group gets to drink on their tour!" I guess they were the only ones that thought we were serious. We had a fun encounter with the Polizia, but I completely forget why we approached them in the first place. Allow me to say that only in Italy can a person approach cops while drinking a bottle of wine and proceed to have a conversation with them. They seemed to think we were pretty amusing, and Carla and Grace got really involved in asking them stupid questions like, "So that Galileo guy... was he important?" After that hilarious encounter, we got lunch and called it a day because everyone (except for me) had a tutoring session. I bought a Universita di Firenze sweatshirt and went home.

Day 2 of tourist week was yesterday, and it wasn't quite as thrilling as Day 1 had been. However, we did see a tourist attraction that we had never seen throughout the year, the Medici Chapel. It was gorgeous, so we were content with our sightseeing experiences for the day. We also made a quick stop in the Accademia to see "David" for the last time. I must also remind everyone that we were dressed like idiots on this day as well. In fact, a very attractive middle-aged American woman thought Jeff was so adorable that she asked to take a picture with him. Jeff has a look that the cougars really go for with those pretty blue eyes and flowing hair. After the chapel, we all bought disgustingly tacky, sparkly shirts for "Eurotrash night," which occurred last night. As usual, I had trouble finding one, but I did get something that worked. It wasn't as awesome as everyone else's, though. I had tutoring from 2:30 to 5:30, and then I went home and changed.

We all met for dinner at Borgo Antico around 8 and had an awesome time there. Carla, Jeff and Grace have become pretty good friends with the owners there because they go so frequently, so we had fun joking around with them. Once we were ready to leave, we walked along the river to the outdoor discoteca, Central Park, to show off our "Eurotrash" looks. It's such an awesome place! I didn't stay very long because I was tired, but everyone else closed the place down. We had such a fun night.

This morning, we all met in Piazza della Repubblica at 11:30 to go to Vignamaggio for the second time with Maria (our Italian teacher) and her husband, Piero, and Gabriella and Alberto (the owners of CLIDA). The curves in the Chianti countryside were a little rough on all of us, as we had had a little too much fun the night before. It was the most picture-perfect day and Chianti really looked like a huge postcard. The car ride lasted about 30 minutes and when we arrived, the owner of Vignamaggio had set us a beautiful table in the sun room, where we ate our lunch. Naturally, just like the last time, the food was fabulous. We had pasta with fresh tomatoes, spinach and ricotta rolls with spicy sauce, crepes stuffed with cheese and artichokes, pork stuffed with fresh zucchini, mini pizzas, codfish, eggplant lasagna, and Florentine steak with onions sauteed in wine. There was probably more on the buffet, but I can't remember it all. For dessert, we had Vin Santo (dessert wine), crepes stuffed with cream, a flaky "sandwich" with cream and strawberries in the middle, and hazelnut coffee-flavored semifreddo. Incredible.

Just before we started dessert, we presented Maria, Gabriella and Alberto with their gifts. For Alberto and Gabriella, we put a group photo of us at their house into a really nice, wooden Holy Cross picture frame. Maggie also made Gabriella an espresso cup in her ceramic class, as Gabriella collects espresso cups. We also gave them flowers and a very heartfelt card. For Maria, we made a photo album with pictures that we had taken together, and also pictures of us students having a great time in Florence. Carla, our little artist, decorated the cover. Inside, we put Maria's card, which had a 150 euro "gift card" to her favorite restaurant. Her eyes bugged out of her head when she saw the gift card. Both she and Gabriella were so moved with the thoughtfulness of our gifts and all the women and girls cried for a good 15 minutes. It was an unforgettable moment. I was so happy at how well they received everything (not that I was worried). On a side note, the "gift card" actually turned out rather annoying to get. Because real gift cards don't exist in Italy, we had to explain our idea to the manager of the restaurant, who wrote us up a little credit on an order pad and stapled his business card to the top. We left the money with him and explained that they would be coming in soon for dinner. That was probably the best idea we could have had for Maria. She absolutely deserved it after all she taught us and all the places she took us.

After lunch, we all went outside and laid by the pool. It was such a beautiful spot, with a little wellness center and amazing hot tub that was inside, looking over the Chianti countryside. We all tanned for a little while and had an unforgettable time. I didn't swim in the pool, but Kevin, Maggie, Carla and Andrea did and practically came out as fast as they had jumped in. The water was FREEZING. So, I'm glad I didn't use the pool. The hot tub was better for me.

Around 5, we drove back into Florence and Andrea, Maggie and I walked around the center for a little while. It was such a gorgeous day that we didn't want to miss a single minute of it. I got my Dad a great birthday present (which I can't reveal on my blog because I know he's reading it!!!) and then we had iced teas in Piazza Santissima Annuziata. We came home around 8:00 and of course, Maria Pia had dinner waiting for us. Thankfully, we had reminded her to go light on the food, so she had made green beans and caprese salad. It was great, but now I have an awful stomach ache. WAY TOO MUCH food today. We've all decided to stay in tonight because we're full and exhausted from a great couple of days.

After this weekend, I feel so lucky to have spent the year here in Florence and to have met such amazing people through my language school. We have really formed an everlasting relationship with these people, and I am so thankful to have been able to spend so much time with them. I could not have asked for a more perfect day today. It seems to us that Gabriella, Alberto and Maria have formed a much tighter bond with us this year than with the students in previous years. They had mentioned that these were the most thoughtful gifts and cards that they had ever received from their students, and we were really pleased to hear that. We're thinking that they took to us so well because this is the first year that the entire group of students is friends. Usually, they break off into little groups of three and have problems with the others. This year, all 8 of us have become really close, making it enjoyable to spend time with us all together, as it's not awkward for Gabriella, Alberto and Maria to "force" us to frequent events as a group.

What a day. :)

A presto!

Last family gathering

Buongiorno a tutti!

Yesterday, I was the honorary guest at my goodbye party, hosted by Antonio and Annarita. At 1pm, I went over their house, and every one of my Italian family members was there: Annarita, Benedetta, Antonio, Antonella, Alessandro, Arianna, Andrea, Alberto, Maria, Maurizio. Even Marcella (one of my Grandmother’s best friends) and Renato (her boyfriend) came!! When I arrived there, I hung around outside with Alberto while he manned the grill. Maria came out to join us and gave me such a thoughtful gift. She and Alberto had gone to Bosnia a few weeks ago and bought me a blessed pendant of the Madonna. I was so touched. Of course following my receipt of the gift Alberto asked me, “You’re Catholic right?” I said, “I’m on a level just shy of Catholicism, because my Dad is Catholic, but my mother was Protestant; so when they were married, they decided to meet halfway.” He didn’t seem to like my answer so he said, “Your Grandmother was Catholic, so you’re Catholic.” I left it at that. There is no convincing an 87-year-old man of anything.

We ate lunch on Antonio and Annarita’s new and beautiful enclosed patio, at a long white table. The food, as always, was incredible. We started with oversized ravioli in a mushroom cream sauce. Then we had penne with a tomato, mushroom and pancetta sauce. Then, we had grilled chicken drumsticks, grilled ribs, grilled sausages, and grilled steak with arugula and parmesan cheese on top. We had sautéed mushrooms and lightly French fried potatoes on the side. We drank amazing Calabrese wine, which was so light and perfect for the occasion. Annarita put mushrooms in almost every dish because she knew how much I loved them. She doesn’t even care for them that much! What a sweetheart to think of me so sincerely.

The most memorable part of the whole party was when they collectively gave me a heartfelt card and a pair of gorgeous gold earrings from the Ponte Vecchio. Because Italian calligraphy is so difficult to read, Benedetta read the card aloud for everyone, and we were all moved to tears. Antonella wrote the most beautiful things on behalf of everyone. I was so touched. Here’s what it said and then I’ll put the translation:

This was the cover of the card:

“Non accontentarti mai, perché oltre all’orizzonte c’è sempre l’infinito.” (Jim Morrison)

Here is what was written on the inside:

Cara Elsa,

Sono proprio la tua curiosità, l’intelligenza e la voglia di sapere che ti danno la spinta ad andare oltre il tuo orizzonte e ad oltre passare l’oceano. Qui hai trovato tante cose nuove e tante cose vecchie, ma soprattutto hai trovato la tua famiglia italiana, di cui avevi sentito parlare dalla tua nonna Rosa. Noi speriamo di non aver deluso quel che immaginavi di noi e quanto ricordavi da racconti e vecchie foto. Sicuramente tu per noi sei stata una sorpresa bellissima, sei veramente una bella persona, completa di gentilezza e dolcezza, decisione e forza d’animo che già avevamo conosciuto in zia Rosa. Cara Elsa, grazie di cuore da tutti noi per aver voluto conoscere l’Italia, la nostra lingua e la tua famiglia qui. Ti auguriamo le cose più belle, tante salute, tante gioie e fortuna nel lavoro e in amore. Ma speriamo anche di rivederti negli anni che verranno, e ci auguriamo che il filo che unisce la famiglia americana e quella italiana sia forte e ben stretto nelle tue mani come lo è stato nelle mani di zia Filomena e zia Rosa. Un bacio e un abbraccio forte da

TUTTI!

(I had to get that down before I forgot what it said, since it’s so hard to read.)

Here’s the translation:

This is a loose translation of the quote, because I couldn't find it online:

"Don't let yourself be satisfied because beyond the horizon, there is always the infinite." (Jim Morrison) 

Dear Elsa,

It is your curiosity, intelligence and desire to know that gives you the push to travel beyond your horizon and across the ocean. Here you found many things new and many old, but above all, you have found your Italian family, that about which you have heard spoken by your Grandmother Rose. We hope not to have disappointed what you have imagined of us, and all that you remember from stories and old photos. For us, you were certainly a very wonderful surprise; you really are a beautiful person, complete with kindness and sweetness, decidedness and strength of soul that we had already come to know in Aunt Rose. Dear Elsa, thank you from the hearts of all of us for wanting to know Italy, our language, and your family here. We wish you the most beautiful things, good health, many joys, and luck in work and love. But, we hope also to see you again in the years that come, and we hope that the thread which unites the American and Italian families is strong and tight in your hands, as it was in the hands of Aunt Filomena and Aunt Rose. A kiss and a big hug from

ALL!

So after reading that, I’m pretty sure it’s obvious how easily the tears soaked the table. I was so touched, and crying can certainly become a chain reaction, especially when you’re with your family.

For dessert, they brought out a beautiful cake with the words written “Ciao Elsa” across the whole thing. I cannot forget to mention that Annarita had heard me last weekend talking about how much I had loved the cake at Benedetta’s birthday party, so today’s cake was the exact same thing, down to the bakery. It’s called Millefoglie, and it’s the best cake I have ever tasted (and probably will ever taste) in my life. There were also strawberries in syrup and dessert champagne which they had me open. They asked me to make a toast, which I of course panicked about briefly. I came up with (in Italian, of course): “Thank you all for your presence today, for your gifts, and for being my family.” I guess it worked well considering the fact that most of the women broke down and cried, and even Maurizio a little bit!

After our long lunch, we cleaned up and I hung out with Arianna, Bendetta and Andrea for a little while. Then, Antonella took me to the bus stop, and I came home. I was so sad to say goodbye to everyone, especially Alberto and Maria. Maria was a mess because I think she’s worried that she and Alberto won’t have the chance to see me again, since they are so late in their lives. I told them how much I loved them and how much they meant to me, and I plan to call them as often as possible when I get home, just in case what Maria thinks turns out to be true. Alberto sent me home with two bottles of wine for my Dad, wrapped in bubble wrap and masking tape. On the masking tape he wrote:

“Insieme alla tua donna bevi in buona salute. Stai attento a non ubriacarti. Insieme ci ubriacheremo allorche vieni in Italia. Tanti cari abbracci da tutti noi di famiglia. Il ginocchio mi fa tanto male. Ciao Prus. Alberto.”

“Together with your woman drink in good health. Pay attention not to get drunk. We will get drunk together when you come to Italy. Many dear hugs from all of the family. My knee hurts very badly. Goodbye Prus. Alberto.”

I guess Alberto heard wrong on Dad’s name. It’s ok, Prus sounds just as good. :) The whole knee statement while completely out of context and hilarious, is Alberto’s plea for the pain-killing cream that my Grandmother used to bring him. Dad’s working on the package and will be sending it to Alberto so that he doesn’t have to be in pain much longer.

As for the rest of the family, Annarita and Antonella wouldn’t allow the party to be the last time they saw me, which I knew would happen. They will be coming into the center of Florence to take me for gelato sometime in the next 2 weeks. Thank goodness I didn’t have to say goodbye to Benedetta and Andrea, since they are coming to America. Benedetta asked me today for help buying her an iPhone in the States. I have no idea what I’m doing with that technology, so thank goodness for Paul. I can’t wait to show them what America is all about!

All I have to say is that I’m so thankful for this family. Each one of them is just as amazing as the next. Even if I hadn’t learned anything else this year, knowing my Italian family has been the biggest treat of my whole experience here, and that would have been enough.

I’ll miss them, but I’ll be back soon!

2nd Last

On Thursday night, we had our final dinner at Elisa's house (my second "last"). The day's build-up to the event brought along some troubles, which naturally always start with the public transportation system. We were supposed to arrive at 7:45 pm in front of the David at Piazzale Michelangelo to meet Elisa, so I left my house around 6:15, knowing I would need at least 45 minutes on the bus with the traffic that I knew would be heavy at that hour. The bus was moving along nicely until it passed the two stops at which I would have been better off disembarking, as I quickly concluded when we were stopped dead in traffic for 45 minutes outside the station. During this time, I was thankful that the bus wasn't packed and that it wasn't a hot day because I probably would have punched someone otherwise. I was minding my own business and very antsy about making it to Elisa's on time, as it was already 7:15 and I was only outside the station (From my house to the station should be a 20 minute bus ride, on a normal day. It had been an hour at this point.) At a certain point, I heard loud gasps coming from the back of the bus and thought "Oh no. Who has a gun?" Fortunately, I was wrong about the gun and turned around to see an amusing scene. A euro-trash, trying-to-look-awesome, Albanian man had opened a beer on the bus, and it exploded all over the elderly woman sitting next to him (that his friend had offered his seat to 15 minutes prior) and 2 women in the seats in front of him. They most certainly weren't the happiest about it, and it made matters worse that he really didn't know how to apologize in Italian. He just sat there smiling stupidly and saying "Scusa," which is completely incorrect because he should have been using the formal, or the plural "you" form. So, for the rest of the ride, everyone was wiping themselves off and trying to ignore the stench of alcoholism within the bus.

When I got to the bus stop to switch to a bus in the direction of Piazzale Michelangelo, I popped my head out and saw Maggie and Maggie motioning for me to stay on the bus. They hopped on and we rode it to the other side of the river, and then walked up to the Piazzale, which was very pleasant. When we got there, we encountered Grace and Carla, and it was about 7:45. I couldn't believe that with all the bus traffic I had made it on time.

When we got together and realized that it would be our last time seeing Elisa and we had forgotten to get her a present (which is HUGE in Italian culture), horror took over our usually pleasant-looking faces. We panicked and scrambled around Piazzale Michelangelo looking for flowers, which were nowhere to be found. All of the stands were selling stupid tourist things that Elisa would most certainly have hated, and probably been offended by. At that moment, I thought to call Jeff because he had yet to arrive, and we hoped he would be near a flower stand or something. Calling him brought along more terror as he informed us that he had been stuck in my same bus traffic and hadn't even made it to his house yet to change!!! He lives  far out of the city, and his bus runs very infrequently, mind you all. Considering the not-so-warm relationship that Jeff has with Elisa, we panicked even more about his tardiness, while still trying to make Elisa's present appear from thin air. Of course, the girls all blamed me in having a flub of less-than-thoughtful thinking. But, we had to move on quickly so as not to waste any time while we were waiting for Elisa to arrive and pick us up.

Suddenly, Carla had a stroke of brilliance. Way back in September, Elisa had taken us on one of our first cultural outings to see a metal artisan. Carla has since then visited the metal artisan religiously and has bought tons of jewelry from him, a lot which she happened to be wearing. Thinking on her feet, she took off one of her adorable bracelets with a huge rose and said "We'll give her this. I really don't mind." We were in no situation to refuse a gift of this type, so we searched for something to wrap it in. Miraculously, Carla had tissue paper in her purse, though I don't know why. We made one of those little sacks out of it and put the bracelet in. However, we had no ribbon to tie it, making the fact that this was a "panic present" very obvious. Then, Grace had a moment of quick thinking when she eyed the Zara (a clothing store) shopping bag that I was holding. She grabbed it from my hand and ripped off the brown handles, which she tied around the tissue paper for what she excused as the "au natural" look. It totally worked.

Elisa arrived in that moment, and Carla shoved the present in her purse. Only 3 girls fit in the car, so Carla and I stayed behind to pretty the present. When Elisa came back for us, she found us giving directions to two women who were lost. They spoke only Spanish, so we used our Italian. It might have worked, but who knows. Elisa drove us up higher on the hill and we arrived at her house, which is walled in and sealed off with one of those awesome automatic gates. I knew that she was well-off just by knowing the area in which she lived, (not to mention that fact that she's an Art History PhD and Florence tour guide, and her husband is an engineer) but this complex was incredible. Carla and I were still shaking about the present thing, but we collected ourselves and walked into the beautiful villa to greet her husband, Marco, who is so charming and adorable, and the cutest little girl I had ever seen, their daughter, Elena Sofia. She is just about 3 years old and quite the talker. Hearing little kids speak better Italian than I do usually makes me melt, so this little peanut gave me the effect times 10. She was wheeling around a little baby carriage with teddies in it, and everyone was completely awestruck by her.

Elisa led us all outside to show us "the view" from her backyard, and Elena Sofia kept wheeling her carriage along with us, chatting up a storm and speaking in beautiful, full sentences. I knew she would be smart just by looking at her parents, but I was still very shocked and impressed. Apparently, she's "picking up" English too because Elisa and Marco speak it so often. We got to her backyard and saw their personal olive grove from which they make olive oil, and the most spectacular private view of the Florence skyline that I had ever seen. What an unbelievable piece of property. Marco explained to us that his great-grandfather had bought the land a long time ago, and now the huge villas are sectioned off to house a large part of his family. So cool.

We went inside and sat down to the dinner that Andrea and Kevin had prepared as their ICIP final presentation. (They both took a cooking class with Elisa's mother for their ICIPs). All of the food was amazing. We had a pesto lasagna and a vegetable lasagna, which were both heavenly. Then we had meat that was so soft we didn't even need knives. For our side dish, we had vegetable spring rolls, wrapped in cabbage leaves. Dessert consisted of tiramisu and strawberries, and both were incredibly delicious, especially considering the fact that strawberries are now in season. They really know what they're doing here in Italy with the cuisine.

To backtrack, by the end of the pasta course, it was 9 pm and Jeff still hadn't arrived. Elisa was getting PISSED because she felt that he hadn't taken her invitation to dinner seriously. Grace called Jeff to find out that he had been waiting at his bus stop, and the man waiting next to him had flipped off the driver, so he drove past the stop as punishment. So aside from being late to begin with, everything seemed to be working against him. He had made it to the bottom of Piazzale Michelangelo and was planning to walk up to the meeting spot that we had all left from about 1.5 hours before. Elisa was still very angry and sent her mother to pick him up in the piazza, even though she had no idea what he looked like. Jeff later informed us that she had been driving around the piazza screaming Jeff's name out the window, in order to find him. Just imagine the image of an old lady trying to find her date, which is exactly what it seemed like.

During the main course, Jeff walked in the door and Elisa's face lit up in sheer joy. He made the most perfect entrance, wearing khakis, a button down and a BOW TIE and carrying the flowers that I had made him buy during our panic session. At that point, it was better that Jeff had taken the credit for the flowers; he needed it to survive Elisa. Once Jeff walked in, the tension in the air was cleared and Elisa was so pleased that Jeff had been late because he had been taking his preparation for the dinner so seriously, as she thought.

During the meal, we all described our experiences with our ICIP projects and she gave us little Pinocchio's. Then, it was time to give her our present. Everyone did a great job in keeping a straight face and Elisa absolutely loved the bracelet! She put it right on and commented excitedly at how fondly we must have remembered our first cultural outing together to get her a bracelet from the actual site. Carla was sitting right next to her and says she saw the complete happiness in her eyes when she opened our gift. We breathed a sigh of relief after our quick thinking, and the dinner was complete.

At 10:30, a hired driver came to the house to pick us all up. We hugged Elisa goodbye and thanked her, and she actually cried! We're thinking that she probably liked us a lot more than people in other years because we were actually polite to her and thought to give her a present, which I'm sure she doesn't get often. I think we all started off on the wrong foot with her because she was very difficult to have as a tutor. Once second semester rolled around and we saw her only for non school-related things, she was very pleasant and fun to be around. So, we were actually sad to say goodbye in thinking about all the great outings she had done with us and all the strings she had pulled to make us happy at school.

Even though the hired driver was supposed to take us all to our respective homes, we were in a good mood and requested to be driven into the city center. We ended up partying and dancing until about 3 am. What an awesome night.

I forgot to mention that Carla was completely convinced that Marco, Elisa's husband, was American. He speaks English sooo perfectly with the right inflection, accent, and comedic timing that I would most certainly believe it if he had told me he were American. I can't believe how intelligent these people are. It's just amazing. Even though Elisa was a little tough to us in the beginning of the year, I'm certainly going to keep in touch with her. She's a great contact in Italy if I ever want to come over again to work or something.

So, that's another tearful "last" under the belt. Now I'm going shoe shopping :)

A dopo!

Last ICIP session

I can't believe I just had my second "last." (The first was my last language class). Today marks 23 days until I board the plane back to the real world. What a weird feeling.

This morning, I went to my last ICIP session at Sacro Cuore Elementary School. The kids were extra adorable today, and though I was getting a little sick of the whole thing just a few weeks ago, I was sorry to say goodbye to everyone. Unfortunately, I couldn't play Pictionary with the 5th grade students as I had hoped because they were taking a final test. I had brought cookies and everything! So, I stayed and chatted with Eleonora (their teacher) for the first 45 minutes.

In the first grade class, I led the kids in a Bingo game and handed out candy I brought to the winners. They loved it and were just so adorable. I love all their little high voices and goofy faces. They are so hard to get mad at, even when they are being ridiculous. Midway through the Bingo game, I stopped back into the 5th grade class to say goodbye to my students, and they actually seemed sad to see me go, which I was a little surprised about. I didn't realize they liked me as much as they did! Most of the first graders didn't understand that I wouldn't be coming back, but I did see little Eleonora (one of my favorites) get a tear in her eye; so, I think she understood. I'm going to miss them.... Eleonora always hugged me and held my hand, Benedetta had the cutest chubby cheeks, Giulio had red hair and glasses and the sweetest gap-toothed smile. They were all precious.

Maybe I liked this ICIP a little better than I thought I did? Anyway, my second "last" is over, and now I have to move onto more, unfortunately. I'm going to spend the afternoon studying so that I can hopefully relax tonight.

Ciao!