Classes, the Coast and Crayola Crayons
I have officially been here for a month (five weeks, actually). It feels like longer, I guess because so much has happened in the space of the last month. Also, I am settled here—I’m beginning to learn the language enough to understand people, I know my way around… I think that being comfortable here makes all the difference. I went through a bit of culture shock my third and fourth week here.
After my first two weeks, it became more real that I was not on vacation, but rather actually living here for another 3 ½ months. I missed my family and friends. I went through peanut butter and cheddar cheese withdrawal (still working on that one, actually). I just wanted a clothes dryer or central heating or a microwave.
And then God convicted me about being here—mentally and emotionally, not just physically. He’s got me here for a reason. So, Mary and I have a new motto to add to our previous one (We’re not lost, we’re just exploring): Be here. So, I am here. In Italy. With only three more months, so I’ve got to make it count.
Classes are good. I’m settling into somewhat of a rhythm. Honestly, I forget that I’m in school sometimes, though. I think Mary said it best when she said that she feels like she’s on vacation and just occasionally goes to these meetings. School here is such a different format than I’m used to. All of my classes meet only once or twice a week. I have very little homework, and instead we do almost all our work in class. I’ll have a few papers and projects throughout the semester, but nothing like what I’m used to. I’m also taking less hours than I normally take and have a 3 ½ day weekend each week. It’s strange, especially for the over-achiever that I am. I have large amounts of free time for the first time since middle school. It’s so strange.
As a product of my free time (and the lack of a microwave and Kraft mac-n-cheese), I have discovered that I really love to cook. (Careful Mom, don’t get any ideas.) I think that cooking appeals to my creativity—I have a very deep drive in me to create things. With cooking, I get to make edible art every night. It’s quite fun. I’m finally being forced to learn all those things my mother tried to teach me. 
We (the Berry kids: Mary, Melanie, Taylor and Matt) went to Siena two weekends ago. It was pretty…but similar to some of the other cities we’ve been to. My favorite part was experiencing the origin of Crayola’s Burnt Sienna crayon color–Il Campo, the main square.
We did go to the Church of San Domenico, which houses the head and left thumb of St. Catherine, Europe’s patron saint. Melanie, the Catholic of the group, got very excited while the rest of us were….um, fascinated. Mel compared it to seeing a celebrity since she’s heard about these people her whole life—which makes sense to me. And yet I still find it slightly strange.
We also went to a beautiful church, La Basilica dei Servi di Siena. I love the majesty of churches here. No one really builds them like that any more. Instead, churches so often are criticized for lavish and beautiful buildings. While I agree that it is possible to go overboard—state-of-the-art everything isn’t necessary, I do think it’s important to make God’s house beautiful. I love how Gothic cathedrals draw your eye upward and surround you with beauty and light.
That same weekend, we also hiked up to Piazzale Michelangelo, which has another copy of David and an absolutely breathtaking view of the city.
We continued up the hill to the Church of San Miniato, which has a massive cemetery full of thousands of graves. There were at least a hundred huge, intricately decorated mausoleums filling the space like a labyrinth.
This past weekend, Mary, Taylor, Melanie and I took the train to Livorno, a small port town on the west coast. We spent the whole day wandering around through the town and along the coast. We wandered along the docks for a while, and then spent some time at a small stretch of sand along the water. This was my first view of the Mediterranean—and it was absolutely gorgeous. And cold—yet surprisingly, warmer than I thought it would be. I can’t say that I waded in the water—stepped in it for a minute would be more accurate.
After the “beach,” we found a huge walkway that wrapped around a section of the coast that provided a stunning view of the sea, a couple lighthouses and many many sailboats. The rocks below the walkway at the water’s edge were my absolute favorite spot of the day. We stayed until dusk and watched the sun set over the sea.
This weekend is Venice. I am incredibly excited about this one!
Italian-word-of-the-day: Piacere (Pee-ah-cheh-reh): Nice to meet you.
Not All Who Wander…
The small town of San Gimignano sits on a hill, about an hour outside Florence. Surrounding the town are modern buildings, vineyards and rolling hills, but inside the walls, the medieval architecture is frozen in time with sixteen of its original towers still standing. I went in the middle of the week, so the streets were quiet and fairly empty. The stillness was soothing after the noisy and crowds of Florence. It wasn’t until we reached a garden at the top of the city’s hill, however, that San Gimignano rooted itself in my heart.
I’d heard about a tower in the garden that you could climb for free (a much better alternative to the almost $20 to climb the 200 ft tower in the center of town), but didn’t see any signs. Finally, I found a stone staircase that led up the small tower. The walls of the city had prevented me from seeing the surrounding countryside, so I was not prepared for the view. It was absolutely breathtaking. I took a 360 degree panorama, but pictures can not even begin to do it justice.
Mary and I went back to Chiesa Cristiana Biblica on Sunday. Our English-speaking friend Andrea preached this time. Once again, everything was in Italian, but we were able to more or less follow along for at least the music. I learned that our Italian friend who helped us find the verses last week is named Pino, short for Gesepepe (or something like that—basically, the Italian equivalent of Joseph).
I had my first class yesterday: Basic Sewing Techniques. Even though I do have a decent amount of experience on a sewing machine, I’ve never actually been taught anything. So, I’ll be learning various stitches and when to use them, fabric types, etc. I’m especially excited about this class because it is something I really love to do, and it’s a nice break from electronic equipment. It’s almost entirely hands-on, which is by far my favorite kind of class.
Today I had Introduction to Italian Philosophy. This is going to be my only “real” class this semester (meaning, all of my other classes will be easy to forget that I’m doing them for college credit). I don’t know that “excited” is the right word, but I do think it will be very useful and enlightening to learn more about Italy’s philosophers and history.
Beginning Italian is going to be very helpful for my time here. Italian is very similar to Spanish, since they are both Romance languages—which is helpful and confusing at the same time. Many times, rather than translating from English to Italian and vice versa, I found myself just translating between Spanish and Italian. Pronunciation is still throwing me off, but I’m getting better at that.
Art history is going to be more lecture than I’d been hoping for, but about 40 % is going to be museum visits, so I’m excited about that. We’ll hit the biggies in Florence—the Uffizi, Academia (Michelangelo’s David), and the Duomo museum, along with a day trip to Prato and a couple smaller museums. There’s nothing quite like taking art history where it happened and actually getting to see the work, not just slides.
Italian-phrase-of-the-blog:
Come si dice . . .? (Co-may see dee-chay) : How do you say . . .?
