Paradise

My heart is breaking a little more every day. The students are starting to trickle away -- the first of us left earlier this afternoon. Two of my favorites are leaving Thursday morning and I'm just at a loss of what I'm supposed to say exactly. 

Chloe turned 15 on Saturday, which is a little surreal for me considering that I remember the day she was born. Every time I blink she's a different person and I've had a hard time reconciling the fact that I missed an entire semester of her life. In my guilt, I made her a video that was not only fun to make, but fun to share:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CI8ol0e4nIk&feature=results_video&lr=1&ob=0

This last weekend was our trip to Sorrento/Capri/Pompeii. We started in Pompeii and listened while Kirk lectured for what felt like forever. We learned a lot and enjoyed our time there but were itching for some beach. We all stayed at the same hostel, which ended up being a campsite. We had 3-man cabins and all stayed in the same little village. So ensued the title Camp Arezzo, which none of us can think of without getting a little bit misty. 

Saturday we went to Capri and took in all the beauty around us. All I kept thinking when I saw the island was that it looked like the island on King Kong. I expected palm trees and beachy weather and outfits but it was a totally different kind of island experience. Most of the time, it just felt like I was on the coast of the mainland. We went through the city in the three tiers: the port, Capri, and Anacapri. As you go farther up the hill, the island becomes less commercial. We spent the day shopping and eating. BUT the best part of the day was when we went to the small beach. It's the beginning of May so the water is ice cold. I told my friends that there was no way I was leaving without jump straight into the Mediterranean. So I did, and it was colllld. By the end, everyone was jumping into the ocean in their clothes. We were so, so happy!

The whole weekend went by really quickly and we were all dreading going back home because Kirk's paper was coming up. I chose to do mine over Michelangelo's Last Judgment. It's not that the subject matter was difficult -- it's probably the easiest topic to find information on. It's just that the paper was supposed to be 7 pages and 1 and a half spacing. I thought I was supposed to be studying abroad, aka traveling?? We've all been super stressed about it all and we had our Italian language final on Tuesday. Which is a perfect segue into my next topic....

Monday was my 21st birthday! As previously mentioned, we were so stressed with finals that my entire birthday was spent working on Kirk's paper. We had a meeting that morning and my friends showed up with a pastry with candles in it and a cappuccino. That night, they all bought my dinner and brought me wine. We waited until today to celebrate though since we were all done with our papers. My friends and I had a potluck picnic in Cortona. We had pecorino cheeses, grapes, strawberries, bread, champagne and bruschetta! We were so full that we were falling asleep. A couple of us ended up buying new leather purses before heading back to Arezzo. 

Tonight we met at the Marco Perennio apartment for a dinner of mussels and pasta. We all just sat around playing music and being reminiscent. I have never been more scared to lose a group of people in my life. I just want time to stop right now. I love these people -- they have become such a part of my life journey. Have I already told you how much my heart is breaking? I think that's the way it's supposed to be, though. I'm supposed to fall in love with this place and my friends. I'm supposed to be sick about leaving. It's the sign that I did what I came here to do. I hope that everyone I know experiences something that changes them so greatly.

My heart is sinking as I'm lifting up above the clouds away from you

I can't believe I'm leaving, I don't know what I'm going to do

But someday, I will find my way back to where your name is written in the sand

'Cause I remember every sunset

I remember every word you said

We were never going to say goodbye

Tell me how to get back to paradise with you

And I'll be there in a heartbeat

Alive

Danielle and I took a little day trip to Pisa and Lucca on Saturday. The famous leaning tower is . . . still leaning. Surprise, surprise. We walked through the city, which is quaint and small. Their Duomo was beautiful and the Baptistery had a ten-second echo, which was really impressive. The security guard comes out every 30 minutes and sings for about 2 minutes. By the time she sings a scale, she's creating harmony with her voice(s). We caught the train over to Lucca and rode bikes along the city walls. We had lunch at a charming pizza place, sipped wine and watched a ridiculous break-dancing competition. The weather broke 80 degrees, which is impressive, I assure you, seeing as how it poured rain again all today. It was the best day and I told Danielle that when my birthday is going on and we're too busy working on finals, I would be willing to call that my birthday. It was just one of those days. I was happy.

 I'm getting this tightness in my chest. I'm moved to tears every time I think of leaving this beautiful place and the beautiful people that I've grown to love. I've gained more than just pounds and a love for carbs, believe me. I've gained a world view, a love of being amazed, a love of meeting people I can connect with on some seemingly insignificant level. I have had my moments that made my heart ached for parts of home, but now I'm having moments that I just ache to think of saying goodbye. I have 12 days and I keep doing the math in my head: by the time I subtract this weekend's travel (3 days), homework/final exams (3 days) and packing and cleaning my apartment for departure, I'm left with absolutely no time. Nothing is more devastating than knowing that it may be a very long time before I breathe Tuscan air.

I've found that I have an irresistible urge to do big things. I want to see it all and do it all. I want to see the castles of Germany, ski in the Alps, ride a camel in Turkey, see an elephant in India, sing with children in Africa. Is that wrong? It's kind of an expensive hobby, isn't it? I have seen only a small tease of the many wonders of God and I know there's more. I've seen things that can't be bought or sold, only felt; and I want nothing more than to feel them. It's not just a travel bug or an itch for adventure, it's want I want to do with my life. And I'm determined.

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

Divinely Favored

I felt Tuscany today. I mean, really felt it. You know in the movies when you picture those clay Tuscan roof tiles; the tall, skinny trees; the fields of flowers; the smell of rich, ancient dirt? Today was all of those things and more. We had a long winter, a week and a half of those "April showers" and now, it's what Oklahomans would consider shorts-weather. I prophesied that it would be at the very end of the semester that I fell in love with this place. I was right. And I am. 

Wednesday, the 25th, was the 4th of July in Italy, the day Italians celebrate their liberation from Mussolini and his fascist party and the Germans, who were driven north out of Italy. The Italians were out of school for the day (we were not so lucky) and the city was alive! We had our Illicit Trafficking presentations that day and, true to form, I talked for 10 minutes longer than my allotted time. There were 4 group presentations and each group was required to speak for an hour. That was the longest class day of my entire life. I am in no hurry to relive that experience. 

Today, though, is the day we all dread. It's the day for our "Getting to Know Arezzo" class, where we spend about 3 hours doing something around town. We only have 5 of these classes per semester and today was our last. So far we've spent a day studying the famous Joust of Arezzo, we've studied the Madonna del Conforto on the day that her holiday was celebrated in town, participated in the Slow Food Movement (we had 5 courses -- yum!) and then there's today. 

Today, in honor of the Liberation Day festivities, we went to San Polo, a town that was invaded by the Germans in 1944. We began the class by watching a documentary on the massacre at San Polo, where German forces being driven out of the south of Italy by Allied forces came through that little town and killed 48 people, including most of the men, some elderly, and at least one pregnant woman. The documentary was in Italian and the actors were locals so the children on the screen (not knowing the severity of the subject matter) were laughing while German soldiers were chasing them with guns. It was at the end, though, where they showed the footage retrieved from English archives when you saw the decomposed bodies later excavated from the unmarked graves for inspection that it really became sort of eerie. San Polo is as insignificant as Luther. If you're not paying attention, you might drive right by without even noticing. There aren't any stores -- just fields and houses. It was only a 10 minute drive from Arezzo so we all piled into different cars and headed up the side of the Apennines. The little unpaved square remains untouched since the end of that tragedy. There is no huge annoying plaque that people flock to or an admission fee that pays for the upkeep. It's privately owned property and the owners leave it alone. The buildings where the people were temporarily held hostage were not given fresh coats of paint and there were not new doors on the hinges. It was the same old houses, begging to be forgotten. In a small grove under the shade of the trees that had seen it all, there's a little clearing where men were forced to dig the graves where they later would be buried in bulk. The grass isn't mowed, there are no flowerbeds. The place is at peace, as I think we all silently agreed it should be.  We placed our white roses on the brilliantly green grass and left it as we found it.  

My mom, in her all-knowing wisdom, always reminds me that I will one day understand the gravity of death. She says I don't know now because I have too much life ahead of me; but one day, I'll start to realize how quickly life literally flies forward. I've been more than lucky to never feel a shockingly grave threat to my safety. By sheer luck, I was thrown into 1991 in Midwest City. Sheer luck. But today I witnessed the effects of a horrific and sad act of violence. What did I do to deserve my luck? Nothing. I'm blessed, right? But that's the thing about seeing other people's tragedy. It leaves you feeling like you don't deserve your blessed fate. 

Something about being here makes me feel kind of foolish. I can assure you that it doesn't take going to Africa or a 2nd or 3rd world country to be humbled. Life is slow, people love hard. Being here has made me want to cook for, spend time with, and smother the people in my life with love; because isn't that what God has granted me under the alias of "Study Abroad Program?" The opportunity to witness some of the most beautiful wonders that man has ever seen with some beautiful souls. I am not only blessed. I am divinely favored.

I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.
Victor Hugo

Respect

Five days. In five days you can put in a 40-hour work week, sell a car on Craigslist, or even drive from one side of the United States to the other. You cannot, however, live without the world wide web. Before you insert some anecdote about how you "walked uphill both ways to and from school" and whatnot, it's not just that I can't use my social networking websites. I also cannot check my email for important school messages or even do research for my upcoming group project. Or procrastinate by downloading free movies. We've had to take advantage of school office hours to use the computers and are spending the weekend in and out of our professor's basement for wifi. It's probably some form of karma, forcing us to "get out" and "enjoy the fresh air" or something. But since this week has been one of constant showers, it seems rather impossible. You're wondering, "Have you done something about it?" Funny you should ask! Italian companies are apparently even worse than American ones about house calls. We can call Monday about getting help but I think we are expected to be indefinitely patient. 

The rest of the week has been great! We had a faculty-in-residence event where we brought our own meat and all grilled out together. Danielle and I brought hamburgers and fixins -- you don't even know how exciting it will be to be able to eat real beef. There's such a difference, you don't even know. Our professor played her iPod the whole time and it kind of turned into karaoke night. Some of the students got some footage and I will be super embarrassed when it ends up on the group video at the end of the semester. If you know me at all, you can imagine what my lipsync to Aretha's Respect probably looked like. Processing? Yeah, it was too far. 

Today we participated in OU's Big Event from here in Italy. It's a day dedicated to community service of different kinds. We spent the morning attempting to clean up our sister campus, The University of Siena in Arezzo. We started at 9am and were given trashbags and brooms. I don't think I ever mentioned this but Italian brooms don't look like the ones we buy at Wal-Mart. They look more like the Wicked Witch's broom or a Quidditch broom with all those twiggy, disheveled branches for the sweeping. We were walking to our designated area when the downpour started. It's been one of those weeks where the rain comes in 15 minutes spurts with 10 minute breaks in between. Needless to say, there was a lot of repetitive starting and stopping with little actual progress. It was nice to spend some time together considering we only have 22 DAYS LEFT HERE!!! That seems sooo unreal.

Bella Notte

I wish there was a well-known movie that accurately represented Naples for what it is: a city with no apparent trash collecting system and a place that makes wearing a cross-body bag with hidden compartments for your money absolute necessary. We got off the train at 10pm for our field trip. It was a foggy and wet night and the train station isn't exactly in the posh part of town so my teacher was walking behind the rest of us like a shepherd herding his flock. We walked in a few circles before finding the hotel that the President of the European College of International Studies recommended to us personally. I'm convinced, based on the whole experience, that he probably has never seen that hotel in his life. We had a late dinner at the hotel, not unlike the true Italian way, at 10:30pm. I have never been so untempted (and yes, I know "untempted" is not a word) to finish a meal in my life. Dessert was, drumroll please, fruit. Literally, a wire basket of apples and oranges. The head waiter tried to charge us €90 for the evening's wine, which consisted of a liter of red house wine for every 6 people, totaling 4 liters. Lucio said "no" and the waiter came back offering €50 instead. I think they settled on something even lower but it was a ridiculous suggestion in the first place considering the quality of the meal.

It was up with the sun on Wednesday for the three meetings we had scheduled. Our meetings with NATO and customs officials were unfortunately cancelled. I was so looking forward to NATO, too. It was a long day, broken up by our lunch at this delicious pizzeria -- I feel like I've eaten enough pizza here to be allowed to say that it was definitely fantastic. The city had trash heaps taller than me, smelled bad and I never felt safe until I was sitting in my seat with my validated ticket and headed back to Arezzo. I saw some of the "pretty" and "old" parts of Naples, too, though none of it compared to some of the prettier places I've been. 

By the time I arrived in Arezzo at 11pm on Wednesday night, I hadn't fully relaxed since before our trip to Nice. I was really tired but had an Italian Quiz the next morning so I stayed up to "study" for that. Since I hadn't seen Danielle in 24 hours (pathetic, I realize), we had a lot to talk about so bedtime ended up being at about 3am.

It's a rare thing for Danielle and I to not go somewhere -- anywhere -- on the weekends but our professor had planned something special last night. He had organized a trip to Florence to go see an opera at St. Mark's English Church. We got dolled up in our dresses and curled hair and stepped out onto the soaked streets, where at least my hair instantly went flat as a board. I guess not everyone can have the best curly-haired genes. It was in a small place without a stage that looked like a space for a dinner theatre without dinner. That sort of thing. The Marriage of Figaro was on the agenda for the evening and the host was a complete gem. He was witty and clever -- at one point, Leanna was taking a picture (with her flash off) and he strikes a pose for the camera, completely embarrassing her but causing the entire crowd to die laughing. The characters were hilarious, which makes sense since it was a comedy. Sense since. That was unintentional. Anyway, great late evening. We spent the ride back playing a million mind-teasing games, annoying all the rest of the people in the car. It's nights like these that I'll look back on with a smile, I think. Everyone together, having great fun and knowing that we'll be heartbroken to leave this place, where we are but a very small piece in a very large puzzle. 

Ponte Vecchio a notte

With only 28 days left (eeek!), course loads will be picking up. I have 3 enormous projects/papers due that will require anywhere from 20-25 pages of writing from me. I'm having trouble focusing, especially since my grades in those classes are, so far, safe. AND it's much more fun to travel and play, right?

Do as the French do?

Happy Easter to you all! It's been an extremely successful extended weekend here in Europe since they gave us Monday off from class (leaving me with a 5-day weekend). Thursday at 11am, my friends and I left for Nice, France, which is on the southern coast. When you see it on a map, you think, "Wow, that's just across the pond. You guys must've been able to get there sooo quickly." I caution these assumptions -- we were on trains until 10pm. We were hangry (hungry/angry) and tired but also kind of loopy, which makes everything funny. We needed funny because we meandered to Hostel Smith, where we would proceed to spend the next four nights in close quarters with a very mixed group of weird and sometimes interesting people. We weren't unsafe or anything but it was one of those places that made you wish you had brought your own silverware. You get me? 

Friday was our first day in Nice so we were most concerned with hitting the beach. It has that gorgeous water that fades into three different shades, starting with the lightest at the beachfront where the water and sand have mixed, then darker, then a dark denim as far as your eyes can see. The difference between Nice and American beaches is that the beach is rock instead of sand so it's quite uncomfortable. The water was that take-your-breathe-away kind of freezing so, while I'm usually the first to want to get in, I ran back out after only having gotten in to my waste. Those that were brave enough to submerge all the way looked like a really awesome orange contrast to the turquoise blue water. There were palm trees everywhere, manicured lawns and gardens, and loooots of pretty cars. Basically, it's my dad's paradise, which is why I'm going to take him there someday. I got looots of sun, which is great because Cara has threatened me with a spray tan for the wedding (noooo!!). And by tan I mean, I have more freckles that are darkening my complexion. You understand.

We passed a place that rented rollerblades and bikes. Rollerblades are huuuge here. So we decided to participate and the rental fees were low (6 euro for 2 hours) so we played for awhile. Lots of stories of us falling off and making fools of ourselves but I'll save those for another day . . . or never. 

Saturday we took a short bus ride over to Monaco!! This was probably the best part of the trip! I want to grow up and marry the Prince of Monaco so that I too can live in such a beautiful place. You can tell this is a hot spot for the rich  because there are a lot of well-dressed foreigners and locals driving niiiiice cars that I feel should never leave the dealership. The huge casino is the first thing you see but obviously, we're poor so there was no gambling to be done. We ate sack-lunches on the pier in front of all the boats, fed the seagulls, and marveled at the beauty of everything. 

The really cool part of being in Monte Carlo is obviously seeing the place that Grace Kelly was wonderfully present. We went to the church where she was married and buried. It's a very modern building -- it's not some antique piece of architecture or anything. We lit candles and sat to pray for awhile. Being there is a little sad, I think, because you can't help but hate that good people die too early. Danielle and I stayed later than everyone else and went through the prince's palace, too. I'd compare it to going through the White House, where you see pieces of furniture that, while important at one time, barely ever coinhabit the same rooms as the President himself. They're old rooms with lots of portraits of lineage and gifts of pottery from ancient foreign leaders. Overall, it's just a really beautiful city. I kept telling Danielle that if I'm ever rich and can afford a "summer home," that's my place. Or Nice. Or anything in between. It's really that lovely and peaceful. 

Lastly, we went to French Mass for Easter. We showed up about 45 minutes early so we'd get a seat. Of course, it was all in French and there was a lot of standing involved but it wasn't unlike the Italian Masses I've attended. At the end, he said in English, "To those english-speaking people in attendance, Happy Easter and enjoy your stay in Nice." Shout out to the English! Woot woot! There were no Easter Bunnies, I'm sad to say. There was also none of Doris Aldridge's lemon cake. Even more sad. But it was a lovely Easter, nonetheless!

So I know you're dying to know if I liked the people/life, based on the Italian standard I have to compare things to so I will indulge you.
Pros for France:
1) Cuter boys
2) Better bread (I won't tell you how many croissants/baguettes I ate...)
3) They let you touch their pets
4) People don't invade your space
5) Better supply at grocery stores
6) Cuter boys

Cons for France:
.....

I must say, that I was in the South, which tends to be better no matter what country you are in. I was also near a lot of foreigners, who weren't just French but American, British, etc. But it was the best ever. You should go on your next vacay. Forewarning: The women sunbathe nude without shame. My jaw has never dropped so low.

^^My beautiful friends and I

Porsche

Geez, oh pete. It has been a long 16 days since I wrote. No, it wasn't neglect -- I was on Spring Break and free of technology for 10 of those days! Being able to disappear for awhile is great for your health. I recommend it. Perhaps, though, you're wondering how my break was and I'm afraid that the version I must tell will be seriously abbreviated. Never fear! I journaled throughout my trip and will try to sufficiently recount it all. 

I must say that leaving Arezzo in the first place was a daunting task. We missed our train to Rome; Danielle got fined in the train for not validating her ticket; and we last-minute had an issue with one of our hotels and I had to pay for 2 nights in a hotel that we didn't end up staying at. Talk about a total waste of money. It feels like a stab in the heart. Finally, we were in Rome and ready to start. 

On Friday, we picked up Danielle's friends Stephanie and Rachel from the airport. It was nice to see the route that I will end up taking when I head back to the airport because it's going to be a stressful situation, what with juggling my bags and everything. Our first three days were spent in Rome. We had found our apartment on a hostels website and after going through a labyrinth of streets, we found Stella's House, which ended up being a woman's apartment that had a few spare rooms. Stella spoke English-Italian that was borderline hilarious. For example, "Hai to close la porta, please." (You have to close the door, please) It ended up being like that episode of The Office when Dwight is talking to some Hispanics and asks, "Donde are you from?" Hopefully you can appreciate this reference. Anyway, she made us espresso and gave us breakfast each morning. She ended up brokenly telling us that she was headed to Naples on Monday to visit family. The fact that she's from Naples makes total sense -- that southern hospitality is not only typical of Oklahomans, I assure you. We saw all the normal sights: Trevi, the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, Vatican City, the Spanish Steps and Pantheon. We obviously did a lot of walking, which made us all pretty exhausted. All those backstreets are full of people selling knock-off designer bags, street art (the current fad is to use spray paint for their prints), and beggers. One man showed us his cute parakeets, which we immediately cooed over and held. He waited till we were done with our pictures before saying, "Three euro, three euro." Danielle said, "You didn't tell us that. NO." And away we went. 

In St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City, we had a lot of fun taking advantage of the lighting offered by the windows in the side aisles. It either looks eerie or angelic -- you decide:

Saturday night was St. Patrick's Day and since we'd wanted to be in Ireland that day, we were sort of sad that we weren't there. When we had picked the girls up at the airport on Friday, we had seen a lot of men in kilts and found out that Scotland was playing Italy in rugby on Saturday. It was a small consellation to see  innumerable amounts of Scotsmen throughout Rome. As luck would have it, we met a few of them while we were dining outside one night and ended up spending the evening with them. The BEST part of the night was when I got to (.... drumroll ....) WEAR A KILT. That's right. I got to try on and wear some of their family colors for a couple of hours and it was sooooo perfect. 

I must say that, while Rome is full of antiquity and everything, it's so incredibly dirty and crowded. It's comparable to New York City, I suppose. I was glad to be moving on, for sure.

Monday we left for Cinque Terre. Everyone warned us that, because of last year's flooding, it would be unenjoyable. I wouldn't say it was unenjoyable, but if you're going there to hike from town to town, that's impossible. And if you're going for entertainment, don't. We had the most relaxing couple of days. I even got some sun! The season for the beachfront towns doesn't start till after Easter so going before then just means that the cities are quiet and some of the stores and restaurants are closed. We were tired from Rome, though, and perfectly content to sit and enjoy the scenery. I've always loved the view of Manarola, with the waves crashing into the side of the hill. I was freaking out as I got to the place that displayed that view. Here's one from there:

We made sure to leave our mark... maybe someday I'll be back?

After a lot of seafood (even octopus!), we headed up north to Lake Como for our last three days! From the right location, you can even see the Swiss Alps from the lake so it's really gorgeous and relaxing. My first thought on arrival? Retirement Community. Everyone and anyone with money lives and travels there. Again, we were there before their season began so it was rather uneventful. We tried renting kayaks but they didn't trust us to not fall in and die of hypothermia. We shopped and ate. And ate. And ate. George Clooney lives in one of the surrounding towns so we kept asking, "Scusi, dove does George Clooney live?" and "George, is that you?" No, it wasn't . . . One night, we were eating in a restaurant by the ferry and a man and his friends struck up a conversation with us. He ended up buying us three rounds of lemoncellos (a gross, potent lemonade that we gritted our teeth through) and welcoming us to the wonderful (albeit quiet) town of Bellagio. The most interesting part of that evening was that I got to drive his PORSCHE. Yes, that's right. His porsche. Don't believe me? 

I only killed it twice and in my defense, I was turning while driving up the side of a mountain after a stop sign. I can cross "Drive a Porsche" off my list, though. I must say, it drives a littttle bit different than my jeep, Zorro.
The rest of the trip was lovely but I must say, I was glad to go "home" to Arezzo. Living out of a suitcase is no fun. Plus, I was missing all my friends. It's starting to feel normal here after all.