Wills and Wars

And now, the tale of the Three Trips Up North in One Week...

The first trip was to a restaurant in Fort Lauderdale for a small gathering of GVSU alum. The Athletic Director and his wife were in town for a conference/vacation, and a few alum were invited to have dinner with them. There were only four of us, but it was a lovely evening and it was great to hear about all the great stuff happening back in Allendale. I had scallops and mashed potatoes, and they were so good. I mean, I LOVE a damn scallop. And I love a damn Laker. :)

Toward the end of January and the beginning of February, a theater company called Shakespeare Miami does a production, for free, in local parks and venues. This year's show was A Midsummer Night's Dream and my good friend The Aussie was in it, as Robin Goodfellow, everyone's favorite mischief-making fairy, also called Puck. I actually saw the show twice, once in Pinecrest Gardens, former home of Parrot Jungle, and once up north in Hollywood with coworkers and Team Weaver. This was trip #2 for the week.

We had a little picnic, a little wine, and watched a little fairy mayhem ensue. The show was well done, an adequate amount of glitter without being over the top, and there were even some "special effects" that were fun. It made me realize just how crap our version of the play was in high school. Ahh well, you know better you do better, I guess. Free and well-done Shakespeare is still free and well-done Shakespeare, so yay.

Trip number three marked a day I'd been waiting for for a long time: The Civil Wars concert! When I found out they were coming to FLL, I was so excited! Plus, tickets were only $25, which is awesome.

The band sounds just as good live, if not better, than they do on Barton Hollow. The duo, made up of Joy Williams and John Paul White, haven't been around that long, but they sound like they've been singing together forever. Here's what we saw while we were waiting.

The two aren't married (to each other, anyway) but their voices marry perfectly. They have great musical chemistry as evidenced by this picture. Here they are, huddled around one mic and one guitar. :)

Just after the show, the group was nominated for several Grammy's AND we found out that Joy was actually pregnant with her first baby! How awesome! She is so darn cute when she sings I can't even take it. And JPW isn't bad on the eyes, either. He's like if Jonny Depp and Jack White from The White Strips had a baby. A hot, guitar-playing baby.

The duo sang every song I wanted to hear, including my favorites, BRILLIANT covers of "I Want you Back" by the Jackson 5 and "Disarm" by The Smashing Pumpkins.

Here's a little video of them singing one of their own songs, "I've Got This Friend."

This band is my newest obsession. Their music is just so... pretty. It's soothing and kinda sad, but just so beautiful. A while back I made my journalism class watch this music video, for their song "Poison and Wine" and write a review of it. I don't think they loved it as much as I do.

Teenagers. Bless.

Much love!

All Roads Lead to Rome... and Home Again

I arrived in Rome at 10:15, the same time as my traveling buddies Emily and Cait, with whom I'd parted ways back in Milan. They were kind enough to let me tag along on their plans, and I didn't really want to go to Rome alone, so everything worked out. :)

Rome is a wonder. If I ever forget driving through the city and seeing the Coliseum for the first time, I will have lost one of the most poignant moments in my life. I can't describe what it's like to see that ancient structure for the first time, plopped right down in the middle of a modern, bustling city. People drive by and around it every day, as if it were not steeped in wonder and magic. But it is. It was huge--the definition of epic--and I didn't even get that close to it; we were still in the taxi heading to our hotel.

We were staying outside the city center, on a street that, at night, is populated by women practicing the oldest profession (you get me?). Still, armed with a map and our feet, we went for a wander after we got settled in. Our destination was a pyramid--not sure what its significance was or why it was even there, but it was a pyramid, our first "sight" in Rome. We stopped and had lunch nearby, at a French-named restaurant with a Macedonian waiter who served us Italian food. Like so many things we discovered in Rome, it was quite an interesting combination. He became enamored of us, and, figuring there were three of us and only one of him, we agreed to meet up with him later that night. It could have been extremely stupid of us, but it wasn't. Turns out, we drank a beer, and wandered around Rome at night, which is beautiful. So it all worked out.

After lunch, we headed over to the Coliseum because, well, that's what you do. I didn't have my good camera with me and neither did Cait, so we opted NOT to go in and save that for another day. Instead, we walked around it in awe, marveling at age and history of what we were seeing. Cait, who loves the National Geographic and History channels, told us all about what we were seeing, which was both funny and interesting.

Like The David, I could not wrap my brain around the sheer size of the Coliseum--it's so much bigger than any photos lead someone to believe. Just as an example, here's a bit of a perspective shot. Keep in mind I'm almost six feet tall--although I look minuscule next to the epic-ness of this structure. Nothing like a giant Roman ruin to make you feel your place in the world!

We also commemorated the moment with a group shot, with the epic in the back.

That evening, we ate dinner in view of the Coliseum, with a lobster staring at us, waiting to be eaten (not by us). It was lovely.

The next day, we really set out to see the sights, but there was a minor setback--no public transportation. The trains, busses, and subway were all on strike. Neat. So we had to take a taxi to Vatican City, where we had reservations for The Vatican Museum and Sisteen Chapel and planned to also see St. Peter's Basilica. I was a little frenzied, and the walk from where the taxi dropped us off was pretty epic (there HAS to be an easier way around!), but we got there and headed into the museum.

The Vatican Museum has art and artifacts from, like, the beginning of time, basically. I'm not sure how or why they were amassed, but there is everything from Roman and Greek days, to Egyptian sarcophagus, to an entire hallway of maps (which, I think, was my favorite part). All of these hallways and rooms are simply a prelude to the main show, the reason everyone goes to The Vatican Museum, the Sisteen Chapel, which, I found out, is actually the Pope's private chapel and where the new Pope (when one is needed) will be elected. I never knew that, I guess. So anyway, we finally get to the chapel and I don't know what to expect. I've seen amazing art on this trip so far, and each piece affected me differently. I didn't know if I'd cry or be moved or what, and, in truth, I walked into the room and looked up and felt... nonplussed. I thought I would have this spiritual experience--angels singing and all of that--and I didn't. It was beautiful, yes, a masterpiece certainly, but there wasn't enough space or even the ambiance to be contemplative. It felt more touristy than anything. I wanted to be moved and I just... wasn't. However, I can imagine Pope Benny clearing the place out and being in there alone; then I could see how spiritual it could be. Still, looking up at the ceiling, and looking around at the walls, was an amazing experience; one that made me realize just HOW blessed I have been. I have seen the ceiling of the Sisteen Chapel with my own eyes.

After the chapel, we headed toward St. Peter's. The courtyard there is beautiful--I didn't mind the short wait in line because there was so much to look at and be awed by. I mean, look at this...

And these statues on the top of the building...

Saints would be my guess. I wish I knew more about each piece of art, each statue, but without a guided tour, and about six hours, I don't know that I would have picked it all up.

We got into the basilica, having dressed modestly for the occasion, after a short wait. The first important thing to see is Michelangelo's pieta, which is in the basilica behind glass. A pieta, one of his favorite subjects I learned, is a depiction of Mary holding her dead son in her arms. It was heartbreaking and beautiful, stunning along the same lines as David. The folds on Mary's robes look like fabric, not stone. I was waiting for a real tear to drip from her eyes and I almost felt like a trespasser, having dropped in unexpectedly on what was without doubt the most private and sad moment of Mary's life. Stunning.

The other piece de resistance in St. Peter's is the copper alter-piece, which is massive and beautiful. It stands in front of the altar over the tomb of St. Peter, who is buried there. Again, I was struck by the true purpose of such a building--to honor the God of the Universe who created all things. This place, this altar, the way the light fell from these windows above us, everything about it was only a reflection of the wonder that God created for us to use and enjoy. It was a reflection of the genius He allows some people to have, and what that genius can look like when used to honor Him. Fantastic.

St. Peter's was a sensory overload--it was almost good they began to kick us out because a mass was starting. I would have liked to stay a bit longer, walk a bit slower, but we played with what we were dealt and left as we were asked to do.

My quest for the entire time I was in Vatican City was to get a stamp in my passport, but, despite extensive searches, asking several randoms, and flirting with a security guard, I found out this does not exist. Sad. Day. So sad, in fact, that we stopped at a cart and got a beer. It was super awesome to walk around Vatican City sippin' a beer, like ya do. :)

After The Vatican, we went to Castel St. Angelo, a place where the Popes used to live, I guess. There was even a secret passageway from the castle to the Vatican, I guess to protect the Pope and bishops in case of attack/emergency. The view was pretty spectacular, I must admit, as most castle views are. Y'know, strategic positioning and all of that...

We walked around after the castle and into the evening, finding a random little outdoor market near a bridge where there was everything from records to dried fruit for sale. That sort of thing generally makes me quite happy, so wandering around there was fine by me. We eventually go tired and headed back to the hotel, again via taxi, for a good night's sleep before hitting more of Rome the next day.

The site everyone imagines and pictures when they think of Roma is the aforementioned Coliseum.

We went to it first thing, and got to skip the long line because we had bought the Roma Pass (if you ever go, GET IT) and headed in. It's even more fascinating inside than out. You can see the seats where people sat to watch gladiators fight animals and each other to the death. You can see the rooms and halls under where the floor would have been where these animals and gladiators were kept. And if you think it seems big from the outside, it's even bigger inside! It's absolutely fascinating. We must have spent, like, two hours inside, walking around in awe, taking jump shots, and pretending to be gladiators ourselves... Well, maybe that was just me. :)

Incredible.

From there, we saw some of the other biggies, like the Trevi fountain, where each of us tossed in a coin and made a wish. My dreams were only worth 0.02 Euro but Cait and Emily's were both worth more. lol.

Here's a bit of the fountain detail. It is really beautifully carved, and a very pictaresque, although touristy, spot. We wanted to see it at night, when it's supposed to be twice as beautiful, so we went back after dark. It was pretty much the same... but dark. lol. The gelato around there was delicious, though!

We also passed by this giant monument, the Victor Emmanuel Monument--a huge white building with copper statues all around it. I thought, the first time I saw it, that it must be some important government building or something, not a random building with no purpose but to memorialize a soldier. It was, however, a great place to play with my zoom. The locals seem to have mixed feelings about it; on the one had it's lovely, but on the other it's not functional. Still, the statues were cool to photograph.

We also saw the Panthenon, the oldest building in Rome that has been consistantly used since its construction. It's used as a church to this day. The dome, which I was pretty much obsessed with, was the one that Brunelleschi based his dome in Florence on--the one no one could figure out how to build. This was it...

Stunning. The dome is smack in the middle of the building, and opens to the sky--in fact, rain had fallen before we arrived, and there was still some water on the floor from it. I could have lay down on my back under that dome for hours just contemplating life.

As we wandered, we came upon this fountain in a piazza. Because I'm a sucker for fountains, I took a picture.

Lovely, huh? And we also saw Constantine's Arch, which comemorates Constantine who brought Christianity to Rome in, like, 300 something.

We saw all the major sights in Rome, and it was great to be there with two pretty cool Canadian chicks. We spent our last night in Rome enjoying each other and remembering all we'd seen. We were all towards the end of our journeys. They were headed to Milan and I back to Nice. Speaking for myself, I was not going back to Nice as the same person who left it six weeks before.

After the wonders and awe of Rome, I spent a day on a train, heading back to Nice. It took about ten or so hours to get there, three different trains, only one of which I actually had a booked seat on, but I'm glad I made it at all. I thought I had missed my last train to Nice (the ONE that was on time all day, of course!) but there was one more I caught. I spent that ride chatting with a lovely British lady who made sure I got to where I was going and provided stimulating conversation along the way. A thirty minute friend that won't soon be forgotten.

I got to my hostel planning to turn in and sleep, but found I had some pretty cool room mates so we all headed out for a drink. One guy was American and played piano, another was a girl from New York who was traveling after a breakup, and the third was a Finnish guy. We walked around Nice at night, enjoyed some gelato (beer flavored, weird!) and had a lovely glass of wine. I was glad to have some company, in the end. Except that the two guys snored like it was thier job so sleeping was sort of difficult...

The next day I had planned to go to this medieval village with the Finnish guy, but we missed the bus due to confusion, and I didn't feel like waiting an hour for the next one so I wandered off to explore on my own. I climbed up the chateau, which has a lovely view of the city. This was a wall on my way up, which I thought was kind of cool.

And this was the view at the top. RIDICULOUSLY blue water! I thought Miami had beautiful water!

After that, I wandered through the Fruit and Vegetable market, which was actually selling antiques at the time, and had escargot and wine for lunch. Amazing. I wanted to marry that meal it was so delicious! Then I headed to the beach, which was kind of strange. Living in Miami, I am spoiled by beautiful beaches. This beach had very little sand--the shore was made of grey rocks. It wasn't comfortable to lay on, or even sit on really, but the sound of the waves coming in, grabbing the rocks, and sweeping them out to sea over other rocks was loud and unique. I sort of fell in love with it.

I did some more wandering, some shopping at H & M and a wine store, had a crepe for dinner, and then headed back to the hostel to sleep, since I had to get up early to get to the airport on a 5:30 am bus. Fuuuunnn. But my trip home was uneventful, except that I realized I need to go to Spain soon because the three hours I spent in Madrid were filled with eye candy. Hellloooo Spanish boys! :)

For the full album of photos from my traveling days, click here.

This trip was probably one of the most life-changing experiences I've ever had. I was really working to be more "go with the flow" on this trip, and I tried to appreciate every moment and just take things as they came, which is often hard for me. I really worked on it and, while I'm not there, I'm better. I'm better not just in that area, though, I'm just better. I am in love with Italy and it makes me sad that I'm not there right now. Maybe I'm really Italian!

Although Italians may not believe in elevators, air conditioning, or screened windows, they believe in loving life, and eating great food, and being present in every moment, rather than just being there. They believe in family and making family. They don't believe in strangers, but rather people who are not their friends yet. They are beautiful.

Ciao.

Much love.

My Italian Friends and Familia

I've been thinking that I should have done all of this blogging while I was actually IN Italy, experiencing everything. But a) that wasn't really possible given the shady internet situation in most places I found myself, and b) I think it might actually be better this way. I journaled the whole time I was there--y'know, with a notebook and a pen--but rehashing everything is letting me remember, relive, and relay the most important, lasting impressions. The moments of drama (of which there were few) or the days I was upset just seem to fade away, and everything I did and learned remain. This, I suppose, is that story.

My second camp was in a town called Marina di Carrara, a beautiful town by the sea, in fact, it's the port town of Carrara, where most of the white marble in the world comes from. The place is absolutely beautiful. I remember one day after camp my family took me to the beach, and I was standing in the water looking out at these beautiful marble mountains and thinking I might have died and gone to heaven. It was out of control. This was taken my first day there, when the sky wasn't even clear. They're still beautiful, and I miss being able to see them every day.

Camp here was an entirely different beast. It was much smaller and my class of nine had kids from 11 all the way up to 14 years old in it. I felt significantly more relaxed at this camp--probably because there were less kids and I'd already done one. Plus, I just revamped and recycled most of my lesson plans, although I had to add many more activities because it took these kids much less time to complete everything. Bingo, however, was still a huge hit, as it was with my first camp. I'm not sure why this was...

Anyway, here is one of the new activities I added, the Make A Monster game. The kids made some pretty cool creatures!

My class this time around was nine kiddos in total, as I said, again with varying levels of English. Some spoke very well and some... well, I was lucky they could ask to use the toilet. Here we all are in our class room on the last day.

This lo spetaccolo was about two dragons who stole the king's treasure, and it took two wizards and two knights to bring it back. It was cute, and the kiddos actually memorized their lines this time. My dragons also looked super cool, with claws, wings, and masks (which were terrifying for me but one must sacrifice for art). My crowning achievement, however, was on carnival day when we played Pin the Tail on the Dragon, and I drew the dragon. Which was pretty amazing considering I can't really draw much of anything besides stick people and tornadoes, with the occasional flower. Here he is, my little dragon. :) And of course, he was in the show too; I couldn't bear to part with him after only using him once.

Although camp was how I spent most of my time, this journey was really about so much more than that. This time around, I stayed with an amazing family with two adorable kiddos. They really took me in and made me feel like I was one of their own--a cool cousin or aunt, perhaps--and I could not have been more grateful for it. I had the whole top floor to myself, and a huge bed, and a real, stand-up shower--something that I'd noticed was lacking in several places in Italy. The family was amazing, too; my "dad," Michele, was a certified wine taster, so dinner was always a special treat. My "mom," Rossanna, was a great cook--although she would not claim to be--and her English was amazing. They were both extremely caring and excited to show me anything they could. In fact, within about two hours of picking me up at the train station, I was traipsing around this tiny mountain village called Nicola, which I'd seen from town. All I said was, "I'd love to go up there!" and then... we were there.

The town was tiny--only about 100 people, I guess--and there was no way you could get a car around any of the streets. The town was also, like most things in Italy, extremely old. And not, like, crappy American standards old, but legitimately over 500 years old. The dialect of Italian they spoke there was so different, Michele and Rossana could barely understand what they were saying. Here's a picture of three cats we came upon, lounging with no worry about being run over by a passing vehicle. This street is what most of the streets in Nicola looked like and can best be described as the definition of "quaint."

This panoramic is the view of Marina di Carrara from Nicola. The house were we all lived is there, somewhere.

I was happy in my first placement that there were no kids--no spontaneous baby sitting requests, no annoying video game noises, no having to awkwardly play with a kid that doesn't understand what I'm saying. But these kiddos were awesome. My first day my "sister", Monica taught me to play a card game (all in English, mind you) called Burraco, which I played literally every day with her little brother, Ale. Moni's English, as you can guess, was pretty darn near perfect, and Ale's was... well, we found a way to communicate. I actually found that most of the Italian I picked up was from the kids--they speak slowly and in easier words and often repeat the same thing. It was so cool that we actually learned from each other. But I digress... The kiddos were great little humans and I'm happy I stayed with them. Despite hearing camp songs outside of camp, and one night of Bungalowing during our dinner barbecue, it was great having them around. My family really believed in being a family--eating dinner together every night and playing and talking together. It was beautiful and, in today's world, rare.

They took me out to dinner on Friday night, my last day with them, and we ate seafood by the sea, and played a little Foosball. I miss them but know we'll keep in touch.

I mentioned at the train station on my first day that I noticed Pisa was close, and the day after I arrived, the family took me there. It was only 40 minutes by car, and Michele and Rossana had actually gone to school there. Michele was not only a wine taster extraordinaire, but a history buff, so he gave me the scoop on everything he could. It was awesome.

He told me that "the first look is the most important" so when I first saw the tower, I tried to appreciate the moment and take it all in. I'd missed the glimpse of it you can see from the road on the car ride over, so when I walked through the arches of the old city gate, I gasped. There it was... leaning just like you've always seen it. It looks exactly like I thought, almost to the point where it looks artificial. But it wasn't artificial. So of course, I took the obligatory "I'm holding up the tower" photo right away.

The tower is actually the bell tower of the church complex and the big building in front of it is the actual cathedral. As is true with every church I saw in Italy, the detail and construction of the entire complex was amazingly intricate and painfully lovely. These people knew how to build God's house and churches here just don't look the same to me anymore. Here's some of the detail on the tower...

The doors of the church were cast in bronze. Students at the university, before an exam, would go to these doors and touch their favorite animal for luck. Here you can see part of the door, and a spot on the lower left that's been rubbed more than others...

Finally, I learned that each city has its own flag, along with the Italian flag. This is Pisa's.

For the weekend I had in Marina di Carrara, I went to Cinque Terre with two other tutors on the Saturday and had family time on Sunday. Cinque Terre was the place everyone told me I NEEDED to see in Italy, even moreso than Rome. It's this little collection of five (cinque) towns on the side of a mountain and on the sea. It is so beautiful and picturesque there it's hard to describe, and, looking at what I've just written, the words can not possibly do this magical place justice.

Since there are five towns, and we wanted to see all five, we took the train to the last one, Monterroso, and worked our way back towards the first. We hiked our way from #5 to #4, Vernazza. And it was a hike. I sweated THROUGH the straps of my backpack (attractive, I know) and struggled with my sunglasses, which broke before I even got out of the train station. Eventually, they fell down into some trees and were lost for good. The hike took, according to Rick Steves, about 90 minutes, but I think we took longer because we took breaks and stopped to look at the amazing scenery unfolding around every bend in the road and break in the trees. Like this...

That was looking back at where we'd come from, and realizing just how far we still had to go...

Every step, though sweaty, was worth it. We got to #4 hot, hungry, and sweaty, but happy. I felt good about accomplishing the hike, and better about finding lunch! We ate at a place recommended by, you guessed it, Rick Steves, which proved to be delicious. I ate a local dish, which was fish and potatoes in a tomato-y sauce. Some evil olives sneaked into the dish (they were NOT in the description!) and I managed to give them all away except for one that snuck past me. Gross. It didn't, however, ruin the dish.

We hopped on the train to see village #3, Cornelia, where we paused for some jump shots and some more scenery. This is my favorite photo of the day.

Oh, to be the people on that beautiful sailboat...

We had wanted to hike to town #2, Manarola, but the trail was closed for some reason, so we hopped on the train. From #2 to #1, Riomaggiore, there is a walk called the Via dell'amore, the Pathway of Love, built, at first, as a trail between the two towns, uniting them where before they had been isolated. The people of the two villiages liked the trail so much, and the opportunities it presented for them to meet people from the other town, they asked that it be improved. Over the years, couples began to put graffiti and locks all along the trail, signifying their undying love for another. The trail still bears these marks today--and many more. The locks are hooked onto anything along the trail you can imagine, they keys theoretically tossed into the sea nearby, like the ones here.

I thought it was rather nice that people still believe in that sort of thing. Anyway, we headed to Riomaggiore and had a wander around and a glass of wine after a long, hot, amazing day. I had the Cinque Terre D.O.C wine, actually made there, and brought a bottle back for the family, which we drank with dinner at Nona and Nono's house two nights later. This was the view from a little bridge overlooking part of Riomaggiore. Somewhere down there is the little cafe where we enjoyed a glass of wine. Not bad, huh?

On Sunday, Family Day, my family took me to the quarries in the morning for the Marmo Tour (Marble Tour) and then to a place called Malaspina (Bad Thorn) Castle. The quarries, those white mountains I saw on the first day, is pretty much where all of the white marble in the world comes from. Michelangelo got some marble there for several of his works, and the world's foremost marble carving (sculpting?) school is in Carrara. So they've made a tourist attraction out of the quarry, and it's THE thing to do in Carrara (duh) so we did it. Rossana had never actually been there before, so she stuck with me on the English tour and we experienced it together. The entire tour was fascintating, actually, and I learned WAY more about marble than I will ever need to know, but it was interesting anyway.

I learned all about how they cut the giant blocks of marble, how the guys of old who worked there lived, what marble dust is used for (toothpaste!), and what an "iron pillow" is. No, it's not the most uncomfortable bed pillow in the world--it's for wedging between a block of marble and the wall from which it's cut to split the two apart. Anyway, we were inside the actual mountain where marble is cut. You can tell by my hardhat...

And the tunnel you see here is a short one--the one we had to drive through to enter the quarry was about 300 feet long (I think...). It may have just seemed that long... But it was longer than the one here.

After a morning of getting our marble on, we came back to the house for lunch, and set out again to see the castle, which has been around since, I think, the 13th century. The castle was built as a fortress, so it's on the top of this hill where you can see for miles and miles (good choice, I'd say) and inside its walls is the town of Fosdinovo, where people still live. The thought that people have been walking, living, loving, shopping, playing, and dying there for hundreds of years sort of blows my mind. Here's a view of Fosdinovo looking out from the castle.

And here's a shot of the castle itself, as we walked up the hill towards it...

Legit.

The castle tour was only in Italian, so I didn't catch much but I had a little pamphlet that explained a bunch of stuff, and Michele and Rossana helped me when and where they could. Some of the castle was actually closed, because the family lives there in the summer. In fact we ran into the newest member of the family, little Anna, on our walk around the grounds.

This wall shows the family symbol of the Malaspina, the white branch with the thorns on it. This wall was SO cool looking!

The castle has, as most really old things do, a pretty fascinating history (kidnapped babies, seized power, raping, pillaging, princesses buried in the walls, lovers dropping through holes in the floor, you name it) and actually housed Dante Alighieri for a time, which is depicted on several murals found in one of the halls of the castle. There are even, they say, ghosts. If you want to read more about the entire place, click here.

Throught my time in beautiful Marina di Carrara, I did so many things. I took a walk out on the pier at night with Rossana, I ate delicious gelato several times at Rosselini's, the best gelataria in town, went to the ocean for an afternoon swim, played countless games of Burraco. We walked around Carrara one evening before dinner and I saw the church where Michele and Rossana got married. One night, we all ate dinner with Rossana's parents, who were perfectly lovely, and we listened to her father's stories of WWII, which were fascinating, eye-opening, and sad, and then proceeded to get my butt kicked at Burraco, even though her father, who was my partner, is a champion. One night, all of the girls even got to meet up with one of the first people I met in Europe, way back in Nice, whose camp was very close to ours. We went out for a gelato, a beer, and a walk, and talked about camp. It was great to have some girl time!

I will always look back on my time here with nothing but fond memories and love for this place. I miss it so much; my little adopted town between the sea and the mountains where I found a family.

For the full album of pictures on Facebook, click here.

More to come in a final installment.

Much love.

Camp Campo(galliano)

My first camp was in a tiny town called Campogalliano, which is near Modena in the upper/central part of Italy. My "host family" was actually two young teachers, Rita and Sara, room mates who worked at the school. It was sort of great because we went out and saw a bunch of free concerts and I met so many people; I sort of felt like the whole little community was taking care of me. Plus, it was nice not to have kids in the house, and I could pretty much just come and go as I pleased, although there were many late nights followed by early mornings. But you only live once, I guess, so it worked out.

I fell into my role at this camp very early on--I was the one who solved sharing problems on the swings, and who climbed a tree to jump the fence to retrieve balls that went rogue. I must've hopped that fence seven or eight times during the two weeks, and I earned bruises and scratches for my efforts. My policing of the swings wasn't quite as rigorous and over-the-fence-ball-retrieval, but still necessary. The kids never realized that, no matter what, I always told them they had two minutes to swing and then they had to change. lol

My class was a class of sixteen 10 and 11 year olds of varying English abilities. Here's a picture of some of my girls and I. They're working on making clothes for a paper-version of a class mate for body parts, clothes, and descriptions day.

The classes were split into two teams, Knights and Dragons. Here are my Knights and I in front of the banner they made the first day of camp.

The biggest struggle I had was when a kid was trying to explain something to me, and another kid would attempt to help (in Italian), and then about ten of them would all gather around me screaming in Italian when I've already gotten the message. Wow... it was... intense at times. There were just so many of them! But we had a good time, for the most part. They were super intense about their art (I don't think they get much in school), and they loved "Firework" by Katy Perry, so when we had extra time we'd put it on and dance around the room. I may or may not have gotten on a chair and used a tube of colored pencils as a microphone...

The "point" of the camp is to work towards "lo spetaccolo" or a show at the end. Each class does a little play or performance, and a couple of songs, all in English to show what they've learned. We did a play about four knights who tried to tame the King's dragons. Turns out, they were tamed with kindness (awwwww). I wrote the show myself, with some help and guidance from the kiddos, and they made their costumes and everything. The theme of camp was "Arthur and Friends" so there were lots of knights, dragons, jesters and the like around all week. Lots of swords, too, which is GREAT for 10 and 11 year old boys (and by "great" I mean horrifying!). All in all, it went well. The kids were happy and their parents were happy, so that's all that matters. Here are some of my boys and I after our performance.

My favorite memory of the camp might be the day we went swimming. There was a community pool in Campogalliano, I walked by it every day to get to camp, and one day one of the dads really wanted all of us to come swim one day after camp. We all felt sort of weird about it at first, but eventually the dad wore us down and we went. And it was really fun. Most of the kids there were in either my class or another tutor, Alison's, class. We just played volley ball with them in the water and splashed around and I think it really helped. The kiddos saw us as humans who laugh and enjoy the things that they enjoy, and they tried really hard to speak in English when we were there, even though we weren't at camp. It was cute. :)

My first free weekend in Italy happened to fall while I was working in Campogalliano, which is actually pretty centrally located. I took advantage of its location and took two day trips. One was to Bologna on Saturday, and the other was to Verona on Sunday.

Rick Steves failed me and said nothing at all about Bologna in his Italy guide, so I hopped on a train and winged it. The first thing I saw on my wander from the train station was this, which I think is the gate to the old city. Pretty cool, I thought.

My next order of business was food; I had lunch at this restaurant run by this old guy who was just adorable. There wasn't anyone else there when I sat down, which is kind of why I chose it, and I had the set menu of pasta and tomato sauce (YUM), salad and sausage, and then a coffee in true Italian lunch style. The food was plentiful and delicious, and definite fuel for an afternoon of wandering. Here's my little corner of a Bologna street.

Since I didn't really know what the "must sees" in Bologna were, although I'd read a few online, I just wandered. I saw several churches, and enjoyed wandering the covered sidewalks. One thing about Italy I fell in love with was the piazzas everywhere, and it started in Bologna. I just love a big open space, and a fountain, and some balconies and people. And that's a piazza. In one of the piazzas in Bologna, I caught this bird playing in the church windows.

As I wandered, I ended up running into and consequently befriending these two American guys, brothers from Kentucky. One was studying at a nearby university, and the other was just visiting. They were kind enough to let me tag along with them for the rest of the afternoon, and I was no longer alone.

Turns out, they had a guide book. From approximately 1974. And in this guide book (and also in what I read online) it said that we should see the Two Towers, symbols of Bologna. They are both leaning, but they are smaller, straighter, and slightly less famous than another leaning tower you may have heard of. These towers were built by nobles to exhibit wealth. Apparently back in the day you were judged by the size of your... tower. It's part of a So my new friends and I sought, and conquered, this tower. Here's a picture of the tower, leaning at about 13 degrees, I think.

You can climb it for only 3 euro a, and since there wasn't really much else to do, and it's always good for photographs to get high and see the entire city view, we climbed it. It was around 500 stairs, I think, and it was awkward because of the lean. And my giant feet and tallness. Here I am beginning the journey...

But we all made it. The guys were even taller than me, though, and had even bigger feet, so I'm sure it was even more awkward for them! We got to the top and waked around, and I took a panoramic of the lovely Bologna that awaited us there.

After the climb and a little more wandering, we had a drink together and I caught a train back to Modena, where I went out with my host sisters and ended up at a "discoteque" at, like, 1:30 in the morning with a very cute Italian boy and Rita and Sara and it was ridiculous. I hate "clubs" as a rule, and this one was no exception, but I'm glad I witnessed it once. The music was awful, and dudes tried to, like, touch me on my arm or face or whatever and I was NOT okay with it. But the mix of people there was sort of surprising--it was really a slice of life. Either way, that night was super fun, but went into the early hours. This was unfortunate because I was going to Verona early(ish) the next day with some of the other camp tutors.

We made it to Verona, only about an hour and a half away by train, and began our wander with Rick Steves as our guide. First, we took a group shot by the fountain, apparently a gift from, like, Denmark or something.

Then Rick told us to see the Roman Forum, which we did. One fascinating thing about Italy is that there's literally old crap everywhere. People dig in their backyards and find Roman coins or even ruins! So the fact that there's random Roman crap everywhere is just something you sort of get used to, strange as that may seem. So we go to the forum, and I got in a fight...

Kidding! They were kind of smelly, though. Definitely stayed away from them in Rome, let me tell you.

The real reason for going to Verona, as you can probably guess, is to see Giulietta's balcony and statue, a real refuge for lovers or nerdy English teachers like me. The wall of the entrance to her balcony area, called, shockingly, Juliet's Wall, is covered in the graffiti of people in love--which is sort of sweet, I guess. That people really believe in love, although I hope Romeo and Juliet are not their standards 'cause I'm just sayin'... it didn't really work out too well for them.

Then you enter the courtyard and see her balcony (you have to pay to go on it and it's not that serious so I opted out) and her statue, whose right breast is pretty worn down from people having touched it for good fortune. I touched it, of course, so I'm now just waiting for my good fortune to roll on in.

Also, above the embroidery shop right off the courtyard, you can go see the Juliet Club, where the people who respond to Juliet's letters work, like in the movie Letters to Juliet. No one was writing when I wandered up, which was a little disappointing, but that's fine. I saw the movie, I'm over it.

The last sight we saw in Verona was a statue of Dante Aleghiri, which is in another piazza. We ended our walk there because we were all quite tired, but it was a lovely day in beautiful Verona.

One of my favorite memories from the first camp was a night I went out for pizza with the girls, and met an old guy named, I kid you not, Guido. He spoke only Italian, but somehow he and I understood each other; I understood him better than I understand some people whose first language is English, which gives me pause. He actually took me on a tour of Modena, and I got quite a bit out of his explanations. Plus, he was obsessed with taking pictures and took all of the necessary shots as we walked around the town. He is a bus driver/photographer/friend of everyone, and he even bought me coffee before camp on a couple of mornings. He also bought me three post cards from Campogalliano, on which were featured his photographs. He is my new Italian BFF, and I only wish I could've actually spoken to him more.

Another memory was the night I came back "home" at 2:45 am (don't worry--I was making good choices) to find Rita cooking pasta, and I was so hungry and so happy I just couldn't even deal. So we all ate pasta at 3 in the morning--Rita, Sara, Cute Italian Boy, Cute Italian Boy's twin brother, and I, a mish-mash of new friends, sharing food and memories at 3 am. Perfect. :)

There's this line in a song by Adele called "Hometown Glory" where she says: "The people I've met are the wonder of my world." That's how I feel about Italy--everyone I met, for a moment or for a month, was just such an essential part of my experience there. Each person who tried to speak English, each foreigner who befriended me for even a few minutes, each local who smiled at me or helped me or fed me, was a blessing. And I couldn't be more grateful.

For a full album of pictures from my time in Campogalliano, Modena, Bologna, and Verona, click here.