Buenos Dias!
Well since it is now Thursday, I feel it adequate to post a little bit on my trip to Rome this last weekend. Before I do that though, I wanted to give a quick update of my past week. Since I have been here, my program CIEE makes all students take a introduction class in Spanish for three hours everyday. Basically, the class is a joke and since it pretty much doesn't count for anything at Vandy (I'm not going to lie) I have done nothing for it. Up until yesterday, which was my first presentation. We had to watch a Spanish movie, and then present it in power point and make a handout. Since technology is never a problem at Vanderbilt (my first mistake was assuming that it would be the same here) I totally wasn't prepared when literally EVERYTHING I put together movie clips, youtube pieces, power-point presentation failed to actually work when it was my time to present. So it pretty much sucked. Oh well. I am having such trouble doing the whole school-work thing again, or the actual study part of my study abroad. Could you imagine trying to take basic Spanish class seriously in Barcelona after you literally had to have debates in Spanish class the semester before about citizenship for illegals, human trafficking in Mexico, and Fascism in Spain? Now you see my problem. Our regular classes at the University of Pompeu Fabra start next week. While I am ready for a change (three hour classes are rough), having to be serious about school again is going to be miserable. I never realized how much stress really detracts from your overall happiness. At Vanderbilt, its like a constant revolving door, as soon as you get through with one thing, another one pops right up. I forgot how enjoyable life is when you don't have a 12 page paper hanging over your head. Its amazing. Being abroad has defiantly put a lot of things into perspective for me. 1) I have learned I am not a naturally miserable and stressed human being. That would be the prestigious institution of Vanderbilt and its quality education doing its job 2) You can actually learn more about life when you are not cramming worthless knowledge into your head (Materiality v. Corporeality of the body, structure/agency, panoptic control mechanisms, anyone? PS: if you have no idea what I am talking about, welcome to what I learn about. Yup, I still have no idea what they are about either) 3) I have no idea how I have made it to 'senior' status at a real college. Yesterday, it literally took me 3 hours to write one paragraph for my Spanish presentation. In between I took a nap, had dinner, look up restaurants in Barcelona, and planned some more trips. I guess its good that there is proof I once had a work ethic.
But anyways, onto Rome. So I went with two of my friends here, Libby and Grace. Our flight was super super early, as in it left at 6:45 am on Friday. So to get there we had to take the 4:00 am night bus to the airport. Once again, I found myself walking down the desolate and deserted streets of Barcelona in the a.m., reminding myself that while I was going off of two hours of sleep, I could still swing my bag with enough force to take out someone if that situation presented itself. Luckily, I made it to the right bus stations, and somehow managed still half-asleep to get on the right bus that headed to the airport. It was all our first time on Ryan air, and I now understand why the flights are so cheap. If you think Southwest herds people like cattle, just wait to you travel discount airfare in Europe. Since checking in bags costs a fortune, we all just brought carry-ons. However, the flight attendants bring around this cart thing and make you place your bag inside to make sure it fits. My friend Grace was frantically pulling stuff out of here bag and before we boarded, was wearing three coats, some scarfs, and whatever else she managed to put on to make her bag fit. The flight was short, less than a hour and a half. It amazing that it takes longer to get from Nashville to Houston than it takes to get from Barcelona to Rome. Once we got the airport, we headed to Rome's main train station, Termini. Termini holds fond memories because it was where Adam and I got lost when we first arrived in Europe. Seems so long ago!
Our hostel had a mix up, since I booked separately than Libby and Grace, and thus they ended up putting us in nicer accommodations than we originally had, in their sister hostel called Alessandro Downtown. Nicer I say, because we got a room with 6 beds instead of 12, and because it had a awesome little bar and free (while, not amazing) pizza every night. When we first got to the room however, we only saw three beds. Our hostel guy was like "Oh, well two more girls are coming in later tonight". We were super confused though, and said "Are they sleeping on the floor or something?" Then, he just goes to each of the beds and bam! pops each mattress up to reveal another below it, so that there were now 3 sets of make-ship bunk beds. Gotta love Europe and their knack with making everything miniature and foldable.
Since we were starving and pretty tired our first goal was, naturally, to find a authentic Italian restaurant and being the carb-ingesting process that is allowed when in Italy. Or should I saw 'when in Rome'...( you can imagine how many times we processed to rely that phrase for the rest of the trip. Most to justify the amounts of food and wine we enjoyed). Our wandering eventually lead us to a small neighborhood that bordered the edges of the mythological Tiber river. I feel it not necessary to explain the charm and enchantment of the cobblestone streets, dilapidated old building, and tarnished iron balconies of Italy. Its not that they are not worth describing, its that I feel the picturesque ideal that exists in everyone head about Italy is one of the few archetypes that is actually accurate. We proceeded to a inconsequnetial and unassuming little wooden door, with umbrellas outside and mopeds parked on the railing, out of curiosity and more than anything, hunger. A limp and wet little menu hung from a wooden pole, and we took the red flowers and worn looking windows as a good sign that whatever inside was a welcome retreat from the increasingly blustery and cold Italian wind. Walking through the door, we found a squat middle age woman with pleated hair down her back, having a passionate conversation in Italian with a cook over a shelf (I don't think Italian have un-passionate conversations). It took her a good thirty seconds to notice us, but when she did, I noticed her eyes first. They were bright sea-green-blue. They were so striking and made me realize, despite age, eyes are eternal; they always remain the same. She hurried over to us, and despite the fact it was clear within two seconds that we didn't speak Italian, carried out a non-stop conversation in Italian as if we were completely fluent. She lead us to a side room, still talking to us about something and not needing a response, and sat us by a cloudy window next to the outside enclave. The really only decorations in this place were faded prints of famous posters, paintings, and drawings. All were reduced to blue and cream hues, the kind of undertones that reveal themselves when they are exposed to the sun for long amounts of time. Since we had been up forever, we thought it appropriate to order a liter of wine, considering it felt like 6 at night. However, once we communicated our order to 'mama' she gave us a sharp shake of the head and said something to the extent "I don't think so! You are getting 1/2 a liter, and its because I know better. And I'm Italian". So we got a 1/2 liter. That, along with homemade pasta (Grace and Libby), the best Roman-styled Gnocchi I have ever had in my life, fresh bread still warm from the oven, and salty vinger-soaked brushetta. I don't know it it was because we were all just starving, or if we were still half-crazy from two hours of sleep, but we all agreed it was one of the best meals of our lives. The meal was accentuated by the later consumers who flooded in around 1 pm, including a old man with round glasses who sat and read his newspaper, and a group of older woman who ate their pasta such with sophisticated, style, and fabulousness, I concluded it must be a inherent trait inscribed in only Italian genes.
After our amazing lunch, we continued to wander and soak up la vida dulce de itlaia. We wondered for a bit, but became discouraged as it grew cloudier and rainier. We head back to the hostel, and decided we need a nap, because after such a meal like ours, it was pretty much the only alternative. Later, we headed down to the bar to get in on the free pizza action (see what I said about the food thing?). I love hostel bars, because everyone there is there to meet, talk, and hang out. We made friends with some Australians, and I met a girl from Austin who goes to Texas State. We had a Texas moment of "Omg, have you been blah blah blah, do you know blah blah blah, etc". Quite nice. I liked the bar because all around were version of famous Italian masterpieces painted on the walls, from the Sistine chapel, the Vatican, and from masters like Raphael, Da vinci, etc. Except, all were painted in bright neon, like vibrant tones of pink, magenta, and lime. With only the multi-colored-hanging lights creating a warm glow in the otherwise shadowy room, all the decorations had a really ethereal and trippy quality. The free pizza was served in buckets. Once again, not great quality but combined with a even cheaper and fizzier bottle of the hostel wine made for a pretty good start to the night. We later ended up at a Irish pub, but spent a lot of the night at a Pizza and Crepé joint on the side of a alleyway, where you guessed it, we binged on more Pizza and nutella crepes. I wasn't lying when I said I ate my weight this trip. But hey, when in Rome....
The second day, and my last in Rome started out with the Museo Borghese. On the outskirts of 17th century Rome, the villa Borghese houses painting, sculptures, and antiques of the collection begun by Cardinal Borghese in 1644. Most of the paintings I recognized were by Titan and Caravaggio, one of my favorites of Italian renaissance artists. However, there was also a special exhibition of the German artist Lucas Crananch, who I had never heard of before. His work was very interesting, especially since it was meant as a didactic tool for teaching about immorality and sin. He was especially insistent on denouncing soliciting love for money, among both sexes. The extravagance and lavishness of the Museo is not only found in the precious painting and sculptures that blanked the walls and spaces of the building, but in the the building itself. From the ceiling frescoes, to the the lavish molding and inlaid marble, the place is work of art. I though it almost seemed like a wedding cake, with frilly bordering and whipped cornices that decorate every window, door, and outcrop. It was amazing, but very difficult to take in all at one time. Almost like a dessert to rich to enjoy for the sheer amount of sweetness and sugar. Wow, look now I am even talking about buildings like food. After the Borghese, we ate at a touristy place. Defiantly not the same quality pasta that 'mama' had served us the day before. However, it was nice to sit right next to the Trevi fountain and watch the rain start to come down, scattering the tourists and leaving and dark brooding sky. The weather didn't stop us from eating. In fact, after lunch I felt it necessary to keep eating, on top of the spaghetti and pizza I just attacked, I added a gelato, and probably the best nutella crepé I had ever had in my life. The most authentic experience I say you can have in Rome is exploring its tiny streets with powered sugar all over your face and a warm dripping chocolate pancake creation in your hand. I really should stop talking about my explorations of mastication, but as my friend Libby out it when we were going over our pictures later, "OMG all this proves is how much we ate during this trip. I think I am gonna be sick." Later, we made our way to the Pantheon and got to watch the rain fall through the giant open hole at its votex. I have always like the Pantheon, just because its so ancient, yet still so impressive and formidable. None of this falling apart brick or ruin-status, it pretty much looks the exact same as it did when it was built 4 centuries before the birth of Christ. After discovering some cool shops around the Pantheon, we headed back to the hostel, and finally meet the two others girls in our room, one from New Zealand and one from Brazil. They ended up coming out with us that night, for a crazy bar crawl that began at the Colosseum. I will gloss over the detail, but since my flight was at 6:30 a.m. the next morning, I pretty much got around 1 hr of sleep. Yet I am still impressed that at 4 a.m., I was able to remember to get all my things from the room and make it my bus at Termini, and then actually get on the plane back to Barcelona. I have to say, it was such a welcome feeling to be back in the city. After being lost multiple times in Rome (in the rain I might add) the sunny Spanish weather, and the familiar jabbering of Spanish was oddly comforting. The overwhelming relief of being back surprised me, but I welcomed it. It nice to come back to a place that already hold meaning, where you feel like you have a place.
In other words, I still can't believe how much I ate in Rome. Because all my clothes are getting bigger, its making me think that I am losing weight. Really, Inma just doesn't have a dryer, so she hangs everything outside. So in reality all my clothes are just getting larger because they aren't being shrunk by our fast and convenient all-American dryers. While there is still much to tell (including a night at Bosque de las Faldas, a famous Barcelona bar, and my Spanish skills) I have to go get ready for class (or pretend class at least). Besos y abrazos...
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