In Firenze,

the air is fresh from rainfall the night before, the sun is bright from behind the beautifully ominous clouds, and as I stroll through the streets in no particular hurry, I cannot help but smile at the joy I have found in living here. It is merely four months, so it is imperative to embrace all opportunities, avoid backward glances and live in the moment instead of letting the future get in the way. I constantly think about the day when the people who know and love me most will walk these same streets with me and truly understand the indescribable beauty that is Florence.

feeling homesick...

but not for my official home in Durham, NC or some of my temporary homes in Boone or Pittsboro, I am feeling homesick for Grayson Highlands State Park (photos). As I sat perusing my dad's blog I could not help but feel a pang of longing for those lush grassy fields dotted with dark green rhododendron bushes the size of full grown oaks. I long for the steep hikes littered with fresh mountain blueberries followed by scrambles up a rock face in order to see miles of precious, cared for land. Passing by people traveling through entire states and trail towns, making their way on the epic journey from Maine to Georgia. I makes me sick to know that our Maisy has had her last hike through the woods, her last romp through the chilly mountain streams and tried her best at spooking the wild ponies ("Stupid horse!") This place has been a small paradise for our family for over a decade. We have been lucky enough to share it with so many people who are close to our hearts, Grandpa Routh and Grandma Thelma, the Little Browns, Milton and Jessica, the Springs, the Carters, Ildar and Patrick, and countless others. We have been blessed to find a place that brings to life so much of the beauty, tranquility and community God has given us on Earth. We have been fortunate to be able to call it a second home.

nom nom GROM.

Currently in quite a frustrating position where the internet at my apartment exists but is the slowest, most unreliable connection ever. Shouldn't really complain considering that I have internet even though it is a little crappy, but when the Skype connection fails every 4 or 5 seconds for 2 hours, I am not a happy camper. So now, in the comfort of the computer lab, I will share my past adventures in Italia.

This weekend, I encountered the magic and glamour that is Carnevale in Venezia. There are a wave of adjectives that come to mind when I reflect on Saturday and Sunday: exciting, stressful, overwhelming beauty, crowded, gracefulness, patience, bustling, rude, carefree, caught up, frightening, confusing, jubilance, tranquility, whimsical, innocent, colorful, tiring, exhausting, DONE.

Allow me to ellaborate. We boarded the bus around 6am from Piazza d'Ognissanti, as always, I tend to forget that not everyone is excited at 6am to board a bus for 4 hours... After a long, cramped trip, we boarded a boat to ride into Venice. Venice is a completely pedestrian city that only uses water taxis, water buses, and gondolas to get to and from different parts of the city. There's something very unique about police officers who direct human traffic instead of vehicle traffic and after almost getting run down in Florence, a couple days without cars was pretty nice. Arriving in Venice was quite startling considering the city was packed to maximum capacity. Thousands upon thousands of people navigating a group of sinking inlands, held together by bridges with canals everywhere (yes, people have fallen in them...) I consider it a major accomplishment that I did not join that category of people. It was very frustrating to be hustled through the streets, trying to follow a guided tour but being smashed so close to people that movement was not an option. I would like to say that our group of roomies did not lose anyone the entire trip, masterful. I wish I could say that I gained some culture and history of Venice from the tour, but at that point, I was so distracted and spced out, I only remember a few points: If you wanted to attack Venitians, poison the water supply. They used to have special guards whose only job was to guard the wells and make sure families only got their exact ration per day. Also, a really rich family built a tower on the backside of their palace in the Renaissance style with short, long steps because the guy who owned it prefered to trot up the 7 story tower on his horse. Also, they didn't really know what they were doing, so all of the steps and arches are just a wee bit off. I felt a little bad for the tour guide, most people were too preoccupied with where to eat/pee and did not hear anything she had to say. We worked on finding a place to eat next, probably the most frustrating experience in Venice. Everywhere was overcrowded with rude servers and no public restroom, awesome. Jess and I really wanted to eat in the fish market but the cold, damp air combined with the walking tour and crowds made standing outside to eat a little undesirable. However, I am still kicking myself that I did not try the freshly fried medley of fresh seafood in the outdoor market. If I go back to Venice, I would not make that mistake again! Anyway, eating frustration aside, Carnevale was one of the most interesting events I've experienced so far. The streets are filled with people, especially couples, dressed in ancient dresses and suits, hair covered, and wearing masks covering most, if not all of their faces. It is a tradition of secrecy and intrigue, the masks and costumes were used to hide one's identity from the community and commit acts for which you desired secrecy. Many people add an incredible amount of creativity into the tradition by drawing inspiration from nature and other subjects. The people in costumes are graceful and seem to float through the masses of people, untouched but crowded with photo takers and people posing for opportunistic snapshots. They rarely speak and are coy with one another, putting on an act for the onlookers. We spent the afternoon wandering through the crowded streets and getting lost between the ancient buildings. At some point during the afternoon, I found my mask for Saturday night. I wanted something unique, specifically white, gold, and black color scheme (hey Appalachian!) Found this great mask with a funky flair that I absolutely love love love. It will be a part of my decor in my house when I'm all grown up. Anyway, we went off the island to check into the hotel, got freshened up, had a make-up lesson for day to night looks with momma Nicole and then hit the train station to travel back to Venezia! After an interesting dinner with a rude waiter *no tip for you!, Shrimp Risotto, a variety of pizza, and tons of group photos, we started navigating our way through the streets with masks on, searching for the massive crowds of overfriendly, drunken people of all ages. We found them. We discovered the tastebud symphony that is Bellini and walked through the streets chatting with random groups of Italians, snapping photos, and shouting into the night.

The next morning, we stole a variety of items from the continental breakfast at the hotel to attempt to save money and bring our lunch along with us. We departed for Murano and watched Venetian glass makers create a cat, pretty cool but rushed. We walked through the overpriced shop attached to the workshop and I took photos of all of the glass I wish I could buy. Then we boarded another boat to Burano for cookies, lace, and technicolor houses. All of the houses on this island are different bright colors and you must obtain special permission to have the color of your house changed. Legend has it, the houses were different colors so the sailors could find their correct house with their woman even in the thickest fog. We stopped with enough time to see lace made in the area, eat and buy some yummy cookies from the island and catch a masked woman dressed as Marie Antoinette texting on her phone. After another short trip to Venice and pushing through crowds to find a bathroom and panino, we boarded the boat, and then the bus to return to Florence. Then everyone in Montebello got on Skype.

I am exhausted, but that is my Venetian weekend in a nutshell. One giant nutshell.

nutella

if I could pick one word to describe my Italian lifestyle, it would be nutella. I am currently taking a small break between classes to relax and become my caffeinated self for an intense technical photography class. I am drinking tea out of an old nutella jar (I have already gone through one 400g jar and broke down to get the 750g jar. I am eating spoonfuls out of it at the moment.). I just love nutella.

I took an experimental stroll around Mercato Centrale today between my Italian class and my History class. I found it kind of enthralling and very magical. The place is an indoor maze of butchers, panini stands, fruit and vegetable stalls, wine and olive oil mini stores and some random pasta places thrown in. The shop workers live in their own community in the Mercato, shouting and singing while peddling their goods. As you walk through the aisles the smell of fresh meat is almost overwhelming but satisfying. As a somewhat new cook, I shy away from the pieces of meat that unpleasantly resemble the animal they came from. Roosters with claws, beak, and bright read comb still intact can be a little much for an uncultured cook such as myself. Maybe after a thorough semester of cooking class and wine pairing, I will be able to walk through the market, head held high planning a menu for the obviously fresh rooster, cow muzzle, or Trippe. Well maybe not, but the friendly, light-hearted atmosphere is enough to make anyone feel Florentine.

descending the culture shock mountain.

Certain days, like this Monday, I feel as if Italy's enchantments are wearing off. I honestly am that person who thought the culture shock honeymoon would never wear off. Now I am feeling stuck in a state of 'in-between'. I'm not sure how to navigate this part of my experience, I am so happy to be here but I am feeling kind of lonely and frustrated all at the same time. I miss be around people who just get me without explanation. I'm meeting so many new, fun people but I can't help but long for home. The funny part about that is, I don't really have a super large friend-base at home either so I sit around fantasizing about relocating a select group of people to this beautiful city I am in because I don't want to leave but I would sure love someone to know when I could use a hug. No one really talks about this stage so I figured that I would! All of these things are just things. There is no way for me to have both my friends and family from home AND this experience and right now, I DO have this experience. So we power through the rough part, try to learn as much as possible, make more friends, and maybe eat a little more chocolate to help along the way.

Did I mention the language barrier?! It's a bitch, mi scusi. So far, it's not so easy. It is true that people appreciate your attempts at speaking Italian, however, there are quite a few people who don't exercise great customer service in these situations. Buying things at cafes and bars, not so bad, usually a pretty educational and smiley experience. Buying things from stores and asking for sizes, not so warm and fuzzy. I mean it hasn't really stopped me from making some choice purchases, but I'm getting motivated to make it to Unit 4: Shopping in Rosetta Stone! Anyway, hopefully you'll be hearing more random Italian phrases from my way soon. Italian class is very helpful, I can now phrase a question: Scusi, ho una domanda...? Ask for someone's phone number: Qual e il tuo numero di telefonino? and I can ask WTF? Scusi, cosa significa ...?

So yes, I am basically fluent.

Kinder Bars...

are a delicious candy consisting of a Kit-Kat bar filled with Hazelnut Cream. yum!
Time for some photo sharing!

The view from my hotel window upon arriving in Florence, Tuscan rooftops and the Duomo.

Part of the Ponte Vecchio taken during a walking tour of the city.

The David... is a fake. The real one was moved to the Academia so it would be better preserved. At every street corner you can purchase your David memorabilia featuring that famous groin: boxers, postcards, and aprons to name a few.

Doing the touristy thing in front of the Duomo, not embarrassed.

Roommates and I with our Chef during cooking class!
Left to Right: Brooke, Nicole, Fabrizio, Jessica, Me.

I am taking a Literature course called Italian Grand Tour that focuses on the Travel Writing and works of famous people who traveled through Europe specifically during the late 18th century and the 19th century. This journey was seen as a rite of passage and an education in social, cultural and personal realms. These travelers were young, rich men and women who were privileged enough to go on this journey of discovering music, people, culture, art, sex, alcohol, lifestyles, anything really. As we talked more about this idea of traveling for a personal education during early adulthood, the parallels between these young people and ourselves became more evident. Over hundreds of years, young people have been making the same journey with the same goal: to become a more well-rounded, independent, educated member of society. After World War II, the Grand Tour became better known in Western civilizations as Study Abroad. So you could consider my journal, blogging, notes, photos, etc. my own travel writings from my Grand Tour.

Every day I am here I am reminded of the small connections between all of us. It makes home seem not-so-far away.

So now I totally understand why just about everyone who has a blog starts out each entry with, "Sorry I haven't written in so long..." although, I would like to think I have a better excuse, or at least one that I feel comfortable with: I paid €20 for a month internet connection in my apartment (about 30 USD) and it is by far the best test in patience I have ever encountered. People always say, "Wow, special education, you must be patient." I have never had to remind myself to be patient with a student, but not throwing my computer out of the window is a totally different story (Don't worry daddy, I wouldn't actually do it). So now I am in the LdM computer lab between classes with fantastic internet connection and attempting to navigate an Italian keyboard which is quite fun and quirky. Where to begin...

Class started this week! Of course I took a first day of school photo mom and dad!

This topic seems like something everyone is interested in :) I am absolutely in love with my classes. I start at 9:00 on Tuesday monring with my Italian 101 course. It is very cute and fun to learn the basics of a language over again. I frequently find myself struggling not to say phrases in French and Spanish. Somehow, the 2 or 3 things I actually know how to say in Spanish keep coming out in full force here. My professor is a Florentine native and not surprisingly, most people here are. Italy is very family focused and the children tend to grow up and raise their families close to their parents and grandparents and so on. I think it is a beautiful way to live. She did, however, come to the States for a portion of time and taught Italian at UNC! Upon hearing this, I jumped up excitedly and told her that I am from Durham, NC! I think we will be good friends. Not to mention, today after class she had us all stay an extra 5 minutes to tell us what Disco/Bars to avoid and where to go to meet nice normal Italians who do not prey on American girls. Side note: Apparently, at a lot of Discos (or Discoes?), people will try to pass as Italian men to pick up girls. Albanian men are known for using their looks to pretend to be Italian and fulfill the "Italian Stallion" fantasy... smart, creepy, and no worries Patrick, not for me! Oh and in case anyone is curious, a disco(teca) is a club, a caffe and a bar are interchangable, and a Tabbachi store sells Stamps and Cigs, two essentials. Three cheers for getting side-tracked!

So, after a small break, I go to my History course called The Holocaust: Jewish and Christian Responses. Such an interesting course with an incredible professor. I am so impressed by the level of studying we will be doing in this class. We started class on Tuesday by going on a walking tour to understand why it is important to study the Holocaust in Europe: "the history is written on the walls". We walked to Orsanmichele Church and heard this story:

In 1492, the Jews were kicked out of Spain and came to Italy to find work as accountants. They were wanted here for their work but at the same time were seen as a threat to the Church and society by the majority. Because of this, they were districted to a Ghetto so people of Firenze knew where they were and so they could not infiltrate the system. This ghetto was completely wiped out in the late 1800s because the Italians were embarassed by the area. They left not physical memory of the ghetto existing at all. Now, this area is a rich shopping district called the Piazza della Republicca. An archway stands in the Piazza as a mark of the city and above the arch, a plaque states that the "scum" that existed in this place before was eliminated and the city was renewed and restored without it. Catch the Anti-Semitic view point still in place? When the Jews came to Firenze, Lorenzo de Medici was in rule and was seen as a protector of the Jews. In 1493, he died and shortly following an important event took place. A young Jewish man got into a fight with some young Catholic men. It was a typical boy's fight between hormonal 20 year old men, but the Jewish man was accused of bludgeoning a statue of Mary and Child during this fight. As his punishment, he was sentenced to death by dismemberment. At each church in Firenze, he was to be displayed and a body part was to be removed as payment for his crime. Fortunately, he was saved the torture due to a mob who killed him instantly at the first church, however, the process still continued. The statue remains at the Orsanmichele Church with a plaque stating this event. Historians believe the man was innocent. The plaque reads he admitted to the crime and the church was justified.

How's that for diving right in?
I also have digital photography on Tuesday nights which makes for a pretty intense day. But the first class, we spent time reading the syllabus (all 6 pages), introducing ourselves with questions ranging from "What's your favorite book?" to "What goal do you want to realize in life?" Hello class, my name is Martha, I love Harry Potter and in life, I want to make a difference in the lives of people with disabilites and their families and be able to give more of myself and my possessions. Wanna be friends on facebook? :) The last 2 and a half hours were spent making a collage about myself. I spent the whole 2.5 hours of course and I believe Mr. Thompson would be proud.

Okay more later tonight maybe?
Ciao!