The Time, it Flies

I’m trying to think of a really great metaphor for the way I feel right now, and the only thing I can think of is Captain Hook. I’m not entirely sure what my chopped off hand would symbolize, or who Peter Pan would represent, but I swear that I can hear that crocodile following me around, perhaps lurking in the harbor just outside, and I know exactly what that ‘tick-tock’ means.

Three months and 20 days abroad. As long as forever, and as quick as the blink of a shiny crocodile eye. I’ve got just about two blinks left, and then I’ll be seeing my beloved new country from an airplane.

I knew this year would force me to grow up, but it’s only now that I’m acutely aware of the reality. For me, growing up means taking responsibility for your choices. Unfortunately, this means I have to make decisions for myself. I’m not very good at making decisions. At home, I would agonize over whether to buy this book or that one, whether to take Drawing and Painting 1 or a Watercolor class, and whether I should get ham or roast beef on my hoagie. The choices I had to make back in my sheltered Northfield environment were hard enough. Here in Italy, more independent than I’ve ever been, with thousands of opportunities before me, I feel overwhelmed by the abundance of experiences I could have, at once spurred on and stifled by the omnipresent crocodile counting down the days until I leave this beautiful country.

It’s sort of a terrible truth that no matter how many times people tell you “The time will fly” you never really comprehend it until it’s already flown. I feel like the last three months I’ve lived in a beautiful dream life of an Italian teenager, and now I’m realizing that I’m not an Italian teenager; I’m going back to the United States in a matter of months, and I will never have an opportunity like this to see Italy.

People say that you shouldn’t feel imprisoned by the relatively little amount of time we have to live. Live in the present, don’t live life in a rush, relax, take time to smell the roses, and my personal favorite, Carpe Diem. So I guess in theory I should hop on the back of that crocodile and ride him around like we’re best friends and Time is on my side.

Well. Easier said than done. Obviously I’m still loving the small things of everyday life. I’m starting to think in Italian. I now want to eat pasta every single day instead of wishing for a bit of variety. I’m completely in love with the bus system. I also love the tram. The Christmas decorations, the rain, the fashion, the soccer, the hot chocolate, the sea, everything; I really, really love it here. But Carpe Diem doesn’t mean Live the Day or Enjoy the Day or even Love the Day; it means SEIZE the Day, and I mean to seize every single one of my days here. So yes, I occasionally find it hard to contain my enthusiasm when trying to figure out how to see Tuscany and Rome and Pompeii and Umbria and Puglia and Napoli and Milan and everywhere else, but that’s okay. I know that even in my rush to do everything I possibly can, I’m still enjoying every single moment here.

Although this is probably already evident to you, enjoying every single moment here means that writing blogs tends to occur more in my head than on my computer; I have several things to write about, and just need to find the time to write them. I’ll try and have a few smaller posts up within the next few days. In the meantime, I hope everyone is enjoying the Christmas season! Ciao e baci grandi da Italia :]

Sara

Il calcio é bellissimo

Soccer is beautiful. Although I think the United States are still rather non-united in this issue, thankfully Italy is a country that appreciates its soccer. Proof of this is my host mom Checca, who, being from Genova, is fiercely loyal to the Genoa soccer team (so spelled because it was founded by an Englishman) and refers to its stadium as 'The Temple.' I think it's thanks to our excellent cheering that Genoa won their game today, and also their game last Wednesday :]

The soccer team that I've joined here in Trieste is called Montebello, and I absolutely love it! Practices are definitely hard, but the joy of playing is so present in everyone that the time flies. So far some things that I've learned are:

-put a woman in shorts and a jersey and it's pretty difficult to tell how old she is; I would never have guessed that the age range on my team goes from 14 years old to over 40 years old! I still have no idea how old everyone is, and I love that nobody really cares--we're all connected by our love of the game, and that's enough.

-the Italian bureaucracy really is insane. In order to play with the younger 7 versus 7 team, I need only my Permeso di Soggiorno, a sort of temporary Italian identity card. However. To play with the 11 v. 11 league, I need a letter from my school here, proof of residence here for at least six months, and my Permeso di Soggiorno. Once I have all that, I give it to one of the managers of the team, who then writes a letter to the Minnesota Youth Soccer Association, requesting either confirmation that I played with them, or permission for me to play in a different league, I'm not quite sure on the details. A similarly ambiguous letter will also be sent to Rome. After all that, there will probably be a few more random requirements, but thankfully the soccer season lasts all year, so I may be able to play in a couple of games before it's time to head home again :]

-soccer is soccer is soccer. Is soccer. Although I haven't yet learned the proper vocabulary to say things like 'shin-guards' or 'cross' or 'square' or 'back' or any of the other things we tend to shout at home, I seem to be able to communicate reasonably well by frantically yelling 'here here here!!!' or 'there there there!!!' And waving my hands around occasionally helps too. Despite the language barrier, we all know the rules, and the same skills apply here as in Northfield, Minnesota. It's true what they say about soccer being the Universal Game; it's also the Universal language.

-I like to get hurt. This probably sounds bad, but I don't mean to confuse getting hurt with getting injured--I've already been injured once, and I have absolutely no desire to do it again. But when you slide into the grass to steal the ball and scrape your knee in the process, that sting is proof that you're playing your heart out, and when you see (hopefully small) bruises the day after a game from colliding with the other team, as is inevitable, you feel a kind of pride in knowing that you put forth all the effort possible to win.

So far, my life in Italy has been amazing. I'm blessed with an amazing host family, great friends, and a beautiful city, country, and culture to explore. And although I've had a few tough times, I can feel myself settling into a wonderful rhythm of life here in Trieste. The last thing I want is to get lazy just because I'm settling into habits. Time is precious, and I want to get as much as I can from this year. My exchange student friends and I are looking into either Yoga or Belly-dancing classes, I may join the Photography Club at my school, and I'm working on my Italian cooking...mostly desserts :]

The point is, I want to get myself into some awkward situations. Some challenging situations. Some unexpected situations. I know that sounds weird. But it turns out that soccer isn't just good for exercise or fun; it also makes for some pretty good metaphors. I crave the scrapes, cuts, and bruises that tell me that I'm trying, that I'm working, that I'm living. This is not a year to play it safe and hope for the best. This is a year for a few bruises that will help me grow as a person and experience new things. And hopefully, in the end, win the game :]

I'm off to eat some delicious home-cooked pizza and then watch the big Italian Derby: Inter Milan versus AC Milan! I hope that everyone's having a beautiful autumn, ciao e baci grandi da Italia :]

Sara

Sciopero!!!

'Sciopero' is a word that I learned early on in Italy, and it is one that I now like to think of as a very good friend. Although I live in northern Italy, it seems that snow days, late starts, or early releases are extremely rare occasions. Apparently it snowed three times last year. And that was a lot. So I had resigned myself to not experiencing that absolutely delicious, cozy, snuggly feeling you get when you wake up and realize it's a snow day.

However. Even if the weather here isn't iffy enough to merit a school cancellation, the teachers (and students) are. Whenever a teacher is absent, instead of getting a sub, we are left to our own devices. The students in my class begin to play cards, go outside to smoke (which is still very strange for me, since they can ask their also-smoking teacher for a light and nobody bats an eye), get a bite to eat at the school's cafe, or throw various objects at the blackboard. We've had late starts and early releases because one teacher was sick for a couple of days, so we rearranged our schedule with the other teachers so that instead of having a free hour in the middle of the day, we could have an extra coveted hour of sleep.

As for the word 'sciopero:' it means strike, and it was probably during the second week of school that I first heard it used. One of the school secretaries came into our class, announced that on Monday there would be a sciopero, said something about our parents, mentioned the words 'all day,' and then left. Seeing as we had talked about parent-teacher conferences previously, I assumed from my rather limited knowledge of rapid-fire Italian that this meant that on Monday our parents could come talk with our teachers at any time of the day. I even wrote it down in my planner.

However, when I mentioned these 'conferences' to one of my teachers, she responded with some confusion. I knew I was on the right track though, so I repeated myself: 'You know, Monday, when our parents come in to talk with all our teachers?'

'No.' This time she replied with such conviction that it began to dawn on me that perhaps I had misunderstood. The teacher then proceeded to explain that on Monday, there would maybe be a strike. Maybe. This part confused me a little. Were we supposed to come to school or not?

Apparently, the Italian government and Gelmin, the organization in charge of education, are not very popular right now; with teachers being cut and their salaries being lowered, it seems to the people as if education is far from the government's top priority. Thus, some teachers want to strike. However, others (such as the teacher explaining this to me) believe that striking is simply taking away more time that could be used for teaching. So really, it all depends on which teacher you get. If, when you get to school, your first hour teacher doesn't show up within ten minutes of the first bell, you get to leave for the rest of the day. It doesn't matter if every single one of your other teachers shows up; as long as the first hour teacher remains missing, school is out!

So today, I forced myself out of bed and got ready to go have first hour Religion, which is optional and thus less than half the class attends, and as the teacher is quite lenient, we tend to not do much. Normally I wouldn't complain about having a relaxed class, but during first hour on a Monday morning my head really starts to nod. Upon arriving at school, I noticed that everyone was gathered outside talking. I met up with my classmates and was promptly informed that today was a 'sciopero' day, and so we were waiting before entering class in hopes that the professor wouldn't show. He didn't show.

We all quickly exited the school, then stood right outside in an excited circle, and I watched as the others texted or called all of our other classmates to tell them the joyful news. As we walked, elated, to a cafe to have breakfast, I asked if this happens often, and they said that it's never happened before. I consider myself quite lucky to have participated in a successful 'strike!' There was also a student-led strike a couple of weeks ago that was held all over Italy, and apparently it was quite the success. I was giving a presentation on American History that day, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed for another student strike so that I can also participate in that experience!

Until next time, I hope everyone's enjoying autumn and enjoying life! Love from Italy,

Sara

PS-last week, while enjoying the warm weather and sunshine, I took a walk along the harbor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something large and white floating in the water. Thinking it was bread left for the fish, I looked and realized that it was a JELLYFISH. And then I realized that there were five more!!! It was very exciting to me. I walked on, passing a large Aquarium that blocked my view of the water for a bit, and when I came to the water once again, my mouth literally dropped open, because this side of the harbor was absolutely full of jellyfish! I asked a fisherman why there were so many, and he informed me that when the water is warm and clear, they always come into the harbor. Luckily, I had brought my camera with me, so here are a few pictures!

The Wanderlust

There exists, somewhere on the Tennessee River, a boat. It isn't particularly new or especially old, and it isn't even beautiful. It's just another pontoon boat, home to frogs and musty life-jackets and a few sun-bleached towels. Looking at it, you wouldn't be able to guess at the soul that this boat has. Perhaps it's the wind rushing by as you take the boat to top speed, or maybe the lazy, sun-soaked days spent eating cheeze-its and floating in the middle of an empty lake, but I think that it's really the name that imbues the boat with its spirit.

The Wanderlust.

There was a little girl who used to be confused by this word. She knew that the boat was named The Wanderlust for her grandfather, and she knew that everyone lovingly teased her grandfather for always having wanderlust, but she wasn't quite sure she understood the true meaning of the word. As she grew up, she watched her grandfather, and her grandmother, and her parents, and her brother, and gradually the word began to come together in her head.

For some time now, she has understood. This is her definition as of right now:

-wanting to learn catalan and german and french and possibly every other language as well, after spending a weekend in barcelona with friends who speak four languages.

-wishing she could live in barcelona, trieste, paris, northfield, asturias, japan, greece, alaska, afghanistan, and probably everywhere else too, all at once, because there's just too much to live in the world and she wants to live it all.

-finding beauty in the most mundane things in life, such as the sophisticated shoe store a few blocks from her house that always, always has abba music blasting. or the cats that rarely move from their stretched-out and lazy positions in the sun of the roman amphitheater. or the old men that gather in cafes as if their sole purpose is to look adorably dignified with their berets and canes and proud chins.

-having such intense feelings for everything and everyone in the world that sometimes you wish you were sad and felt like crying, because sometimes crying seems like the easiest way to ease the ache of so much passion, even when there is no sadness but just the bittersweet knowledge that in life there will always be goodbyes, because nothing lasts forever.

The little girl, now not so little, knows that life would probably be easier if she didn't love everything quite so much. But she has a legacy to follow. Because there's a grandfather, and there's a boat.

Bora and Barcolana

Although the word 'bora' is used quite often in Trieste, I didn't really expect to find it in an English Dictionary. However, the lovely little 'dictionary' application on my computer has exceeded my expectations:

bora. noun. a strong, cold, dry northeast wind blowing in the upper adriatic.

Because Trieste is situated between hills on one side and a gulf on the

other, the warm air coming from the sea and the cold air coming from over the hills mix and the product is a very strong, very cold wind. At least I think that's how it works. La bora is pretty infamous in Trieste, much like Chicago is famous for being The Windy City. I thought I had felt la bora a little bit one day, but it was during the summer and it was on a sunny day, and the fierceness of the wind as I leaned into it felt like heaven. This weekend, I truly experienced la bora in all of its glory, and I now know that it is not heaven. It was evening, and it was cold, and the wind was whipping my jacket open and my scarf was trailing behind me like a kite and I had to lean almost 45 degress forward just to walk! I now understand why people always grumble a little bit when mentioning this infamous wind--although I'm used to Minnesota-cold, la bora cuts you and chills you to the bone. And while I may grumble a little bit come winter, la bora really makes me love Trieste even more :]

Another word that has been used extensively throughout the past month: Barcolana. This one's not in the dictionary. Barcolana is a sailboat race that takes place in Trieste every year. When it was first mentioned, I thought it would be a small local event, but it turns out to be the largest sailboat race in Europe. So basically it's on about the same level as the Defeat of Jesse James Days back in Northfield :] But this was definitely the most crowded I have seen Trieste. There were cars, scooters, and so many people EVERYWHERE that it took me quite a bit longer to get places that normally take only a few minutes. There were tents everywhere that were selling pretty much everything, from candy to eco-friendly mo-peds to scarves to books about Barcolana. There was a Barcolana Music Festival in la Piazza Unitá. And I even saw a man with a Vikings hat on--speaking English, although I couldn't tell if he had a Minnesota accent or not. But I felt that this was true proof that tourists come from everywhere!

The harbor was absolutely crammed full of boats, all tied up and looking quite fancy. There were a few really huge ones that had so many sails and ropes that I don't even know how many people were needed to sail it! All in all, though, despite the high level of excitement that was evident throughout Trieste, the Italians remained pretty relaxed, as always.

Since this weekend was such an important one for Trieste, the Rotaract Club invited the other exchange students from the district to come spend the day on Saturday, eat a lovely Rotaract dinner, and then, on Sunday, watch the race from the hills of Muggia, a small village near Slovenia (although technically Slovenia's always near; it's only about thirty minutes away from my house). So I met up with the three other exchange students in who are living in Trieste: Camille from Quebec, Mary from Iowa, and Sofia from Argentina. And we were joined by Misha from British Columbia, Anna from Louisiana, Patrick from Florida, and Alex from Colorado. I'd say the American Continent was pretty well represented! We spent the afternoon eating gelato, walking around the harbor and looking at all the boats, seeing the main piazzas of Trieste, and talking. And later, the Rotaract dinner was at a German-themed restaurant that somehow still managed to have eleven pages of its small-print menu devoted to pizza although the waiters walked around in leiderhosen. Then, we walked around the Harbor, listening to the music coming from Piazza Unitá. There was so much energy in the city, it made me feel so proud to be living in Trieste! I've decided that I want everyone to come visit me, so I can show people what a beautiful, great city it is. All in all it was a great day, and it highlighted something that I love about Rotary: it brings together all these people from so many different cultures who are united by their common interests. All of us girls from Trieste got along really well with the other exchange students even though we had never met before, and I know that we're going to have tons of fun this year, visiting each others' cities, planning trips around Italy, and, most importantly, having 'Lord of the Rings' movie nights :]

The actual event of Barcolana took place yesterday, the historic 10-10-10 Sunday, and it happened to start at 10:00 in the morning :] Instead of watching the race with Rotaract, I went to a sailing "society" right on the shore, at the starting and ending point of the race. It was sort of like a Yacht Club, but minus the yachts and not quite as fancy. I was there with Checca and her parents-in-law, my host-grandparents, Nonno Elio and Nonna Giulia. In addition: Marta and Pietro, Checca's college-age children who study and live in Genova along with the rest of Checca's family, came for the weekend with their cousin Tommaso and Marta's boyfriend Pedro, since Marta is a sailor and was participating in the race. Pedro's parents and younger sister also came to visit, so the house was quite crowded and festive for the entire weekend! So Pedro's family joined us at the Sailing Society to watch the race. I felt a bit like I was with a celebrity, because Nonno Elio, an avid sailor himself in his youth, had written a newspaper article about Barcolana, and with his expertise on the subject of sailing everyone was coming up to say hi and give him the typical two-kisses and a hug. Once the boats began to gather in the gulf in front of us, he kept explaining different parts of the race to me, with the occasional interejection that "you HAVE to go to Rome" or "did you know that Italy has 80% of the world's art?" I think he's trying to get me to change my nationality :] As for the view: it's pretty difficult to describe the sheer amount of sails, and seeing as we were right on the sea rather than up in the hills, we didn't have the best panoramic view. But here are a few pictures of the day:

Me being very happy right before the race started.

La nonna Giulia!

Il nonno Elio!

Unfortunately the pictures that I took of Checca were in a format that can't be uploaded to the internet...silly fancy camera with all those silly buttons :] And Peter, my host dad, was also participating in the race...and came in 17th out of over 1,600 boats, first in his small-boat group! Yay Peter! So no pictures of him either. But I will have a new post up soon (I hope) and hopefully by then I will have taken some more pictures so that you can meet my host parents! And if you want some really amazing pictures of Barcolana, just google it--I have to say, they're much, much better than my pictures, and they actually do it justice :]

Sorry that it took me so long to write a new post! I have so many things to tell you all, but I guess it's easy to get caught up in life here too. I'm actually very excited about this week, because I shall be returning to my homeland: not the U.S., but SPAIN!!! After living there for a year with my family when I was 13, I absolutely fell in love with it, and now I'm going to Barcelona for three days to meet up with the lovely lovely people that I met at the Rotary camp during my first two weeks in Italy! I'm so excited not only to see Spain again, but also to see my new friends from all over the world! I'll be gone from Thursday until Sunday, so it will probably not be until next Monday that you'll get another post out of me.

Until then, I hope that everyone's doing well in Northfield or wherever you happen to be right now. Enjoy life and embrace everything! Ciao e baci grandi :]

Happiness

Right now I think I'm one of the happiest people in the world. Most of the time I'd say I'm a pretty cheerful person, but sometimes there's just so much beauty in one day that it spills over and I get a little crazy. Today's one of those days :]

I had a good day at school, despite not understanding a thing in my Literature Class (we were going over Latin grammar) or the architechture-esque Art History and Design Class. I have to say, it's thanks to the really nice and welcoming people in my class that school is so enjoyable!

After getting home from school today, I had a delicious pasta lunch, thanks to Chef Checca, and then: I went out. Not really knowing what I was going to do, I headed out with just myself and my lovely new camera, Albus. For two hours I roamed the city, enjoying the absolutely gorgeous weather and wonderful scenery that Trieste provided. My route started at the harbor, one block away from my apartment, and I walked down the street smelling the sea. Next up was a Greek Orthodox Church, then the Piazza Sant Antonio, and then downtown Trieste: the shopping area. After a minor detour at H&M (Mama, Daddy, don't worry, I didn't buy anything) I climbed a few small hills behind the ancient Roman theater and reached the top after navigating my way through a quiet residential area that made me feel like I was in the middle of the countryside: the colorful apartments spilling over with flowers, elderly women reaching out their windows to hang laundry, and winding cobblestone streets complete with stray cats. Continuing my trek uphill, I found a photographer's paradise. The sunset over the distant sea was casting a beautiful glow over the stone staircase of a neighborhood park, and I was occupied for quite some time trying to capture the beauty. Then, finding my way home through more winding streets.

Now, I'm sitting in my room listening to one of my favorite songs [Bold as Love, Jimi Hendrix (instrumental version)] and smelling the wonderful aroma of couscous as Checca works her magic in the kitchen. I've gotta say, life is pretty good right now :]

Here's the link to the new photo album I just put up. All of the pictures are from today's little jaunt through Trieste. I hope you enjoy them!

Ciao e baci grandi :]

Swept off to Italy

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to."

As it turns out, Bilbo Baggins was right! It was several years ago that I first learned that Rotary Youth Exchange existed, and a couple of years ago when I decided that it was something I wanted to seriously consider. The application process started almost one year ago, and then the preparations began in earnest. But it wasn't until exactly one month ago that I stepped into the Road. And it is most definitely a dangerous business, because that road is stretching out in front of me with infinite and exciting possibilities, and there's no telling where I'll be at the end of the year!

For now, school is giving my days a new rhythm. I'm attending the Liceo Scientifico Guglielmo Oberdan, which is apparently the toughest school in Trieste because it is science based, which means lots of math and physics. It was pretty funny when the first teacher gave us our weekly schedule; on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we have two hours of Math and Physics, and when the whole class groaned at this, I have to admit, I felt a bit like I had just received double Potions with the Slytherins. My other classes include Literature, Latin, History, Philosophy, Art History and Design, Chemistry, English, and of course Gym. Every day except Wednesday school is from 8:10 to 1:04, and on Wednesday we get a special break--school starts at 9:00! So late-start Wednesdays followed me here from Northfield :] So far the teachers that I've met seem very nice, and if I understood correctly, the History teacher already has me roped into doing a presentation on American History. Eduardo, want to help me brush up on that? As for the other students, they are so friendly and very helpful, so I'm excited about getting to know them and the Italian school system better throughout the year.

Another new part of my life is soccer! My amazing host mom searched all of Trieste for a girls' soccer team for me, and the one she found is perfect. The practice area is so wonderful--filled with kids laughing and playing soccer on the one, small, turf field, with parents looking on from the outdoor bar that serves pastries and other refreshments for after practice. The coach was extremely welcoming, as were the other girls, and it felt so great to play again! I have to say though, after a month of absolutely no activity, the first practice still has me sore :] But I'm looking forward to getting back into the game, and learning the way to play soccer Italian style.

Other than school and soccer, I've been doing a lot of relaxing; reading, writing letters, hanging out with friends, and walking around the city. The other day I was walking around by myself, and I came across a large church that I had seen before, but never entered. So I climbed the many steps to the entrance and walked in. It was nearly empty, with the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows and lighting up the frescoes, small side-chapels, and arched ceilings. At some point I heard a small group of people chanting the Hail Mary in Italian. It was so peaceful, and the smell of incense and the cool air kept me there for a few minutes of just sitting and reflecting on the reality of my new life.

If I think about it, it seems so surreal. How on Earth am I lucky enough to be living in Italy? It doesn't seem possible that I came here one month ago, knowing no one, knowing barely any Italian, and am now happily living here with a daily routine. It's difficult for me to wrap my head around. It's much easier to just take things one wonderful Italian moment at a time, accept them as normal, and let them slowly add up into Life. Because all of the beautiful things that I love about Italy are the little details that make up daily life:

-coming home from a friend's house once, we made a turn and I was shocked to see the huge expanse of the sea, glittering in the evening sun and dotted with tiny sailboats. I'm still not used to the fact that I live on the coast!

-my host mom , Checca, sometimes talks to me in English, whereas I normally talk to her in Italian, and most of the time I don't even recognize the difference between the English and the Italian.

-with the wind speeding past and the gorgeous buildings glowing in the setting sun, riding behind Checca on a mo-ped is one of my absolute favorite things about Italy.

-just seeing the bright blue sky and the red-tiled roofs outside the window while I eat my breakfast makes me so happy

-there is a really great bakery right downstairs from our apartment, and everyday we get a special order of delicious bread from them. And if I wake up early enough, the smell coming in from my window is really heavenly.

-there is beauty and history everywhere: in the ancient churches, the large piazzas, the harbor, the tiny restaurants, the adorable children, and especially the gelaterias :]

It sounds like all of my fellow exchange students feel the same way: I think everyone is loving their experience right now. Whether in Italy, some other amazing country, or back home in Northfield, we're all living La Dolce Vita. I hope everyone's doing well!

Ciao e baci grandi :]

Rotary is Amazing

Seriously, that’s all I really need to say. Rotary is amazing. In the past two weeks it has brought me together with seven incredible people, from South Africa, Poland, Spain, Germany, Latvia, Turkey, and France. It has helped me to learn about so many other cultures. It has given me the opportunity to see some of the most beautiful places in Northeastern Italy. So really, all I can say is thank you.

A few details of what exactly happened on this Rotary- and Rotaract-organized camp:

-I lived in Verona for one week, and in a small town called Cordovado the next. Two very different places, both with a classic Italian charm and beauty that I absolutely love.

-I seriously bonded with the seven other campers. It’s pretty difficult not to when you’re all united solely by the experiences you’re sharing. And let me tell you, we shared a lot of experiences; we were together almost all of every single day for fifteen days.

-We spent one full day sailing on Lake Garda. Huge bluffs surrounded the lake, which is the largest in Italy and was such a beautiful clear blue. Swimming, eating ice cream, relaxing, talking, getting a little bit sunburned, falling in the water, and continuously ducking under the huge sail made for a wonderful day.

-We toured Venice. Most of the others had been there before, given the proximity of everything in Europe. For me, however, it was all new, and we went on such a beautiful day that my camera got plenty of usage :] It was absolutely gorgeous, although it was almost tragic to see that the main reason it exists at this point is for tourism. However, I’m a tourist, so I guess I can’t really complain.

-We went to a Rotarian’s mountain home for a barbecue prepared by an army of Rotary and Rotaract members. The view was breathtaking, the neighboring houses were colorful and overflowing with flowers, and outside in the garden there was a trellis covered in vines of delicious grapes. I also got to help pick lettuce from the next-door neighbor’s garden, and she was so ancient that I couldn’t help but be impressed as she creaked her way around the garden, chopping off enormous heads of lettuce like her life depended on it. She was quite generous, although I couldn’t understand a word she said since she was speaking Friulani, the dialect of the Friuli region.

-I ate so much Nutella, I think it’s time to start up soccer again :]

-I realized that eating in Italy is very different. At nearly every meal, I would eat my fill of whatever was on the plate they put in front of me. Usually, it was so much that I couldn’t finish. It took me a long time to learn that there is ALWAYS a second plate. Always. Needless to say, the second plate was just as delicious as the first, and I was forced to find one tiny corner in my stomach for just a little bit more. Also, I was always the last one to finish eating, which I found interesting seeing as we Americans have a reputation for always being in a rush and on the move, whereas Europeans live life more slowly.

-Thanks to the Rotary clubs of Verona Scaligero and San Vito al Tagliamento, I have two new Rotary flags! They are both beautiful, and I felt like a real ambassador when we exchanged flags. It’s so cool to think about all the connections and friendships I’ve already made!

-I dressed up in medieval clothes and participated in a four-hour parade through the medieval town of Cordovado. Everyone was dressed up in medieval wear, and there were stands everywhere selling stained glass windows, swords and armor, “holy relics”, paintings, and rustic cuisine. I actually felt like I had been transported back in time, thanks to the ancient stone walls, castles, and churches of Cordovado. Also, in the parade, the four ancient warring areas of Cordovado were competing against each other to win the prize for the best borgo, or village. The seven other campers and I were participating as the “Giallo e Nero” team, so we wore yellow and black. Guess who won :] “Viva Giallo, Viva Nero, Viva Giallo e Nero!!!”

I could go on and on with descriptions of everything we did, but it’s impossible to recreate any of it, or even do it justice. I had so much fun and learned so much over the two weeks, that it seems impossible that it was only two weeks. It’s great to be back home in Trieste, but I know that I will really miss the friends that I made on the trip. Again: THANK YOU ROTARY. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Or as the Italians would say it, Grazie mille. Until next time, ciao e baci grandi :]

ps-here's the link to my new online storage site for photos. take a look and enjoy!

http://picasaweb.google.com/109253908369204461087/SummerCamp?authkey=Gv1sRgCKCD__78nsyDjgE#

Trieste!

I'm here. Finally! After seven months of waiting, I was more than ready to start the next chapter of my life. And now it has officially begun.

Of course, saying goodbye to my friends and family was, as others have found out before me, bittersweet; sad because I love them all and I know I'll miss them tremendously, but happy because I know that we'll all be reunited next summer to share our respective adventures. My travel went smoothly, and I cannot even begin to describe how excited I was in Munich when I boarded that tiny airplane with little black propellors. Either I look vaguely Italian or the stewardess just assumed that I was, because she spoke to me in Italian, and it was very satisfying to be able to answer her with an eloquent "grazie" :]

Upon my arrival in Trieste, I was welcomed by a person who is possibly the best host mother in existence: Francesca Vio, whom I call Checca. She greeted me with several gifts:

1. Luca, Giada, and Linda, three friends of her son, Enrico, who is currently in Florida through Rotary. They were so friendly, it was really nice to immediately meet some young people :]
2. A brand new cell phone. Luca, Giada, and Linda all said they were sorry for buying me such a bad one, but for those of you at home who have ever seen my old cell phone, you will understand when I say that the new one is a huge step forward for me :]
3. A beautiful bracelet that is very popular in Trieste right now.
4. So much kindness! She thought of everything that I would need to be comfortable here in Italy,and everything that was in her power to do, she did. She is so welcoming, I couldn't have asked for a better family.

Luckily I was hyper enough yesterday to explore the city a little, and let me tell you: É una cittá molto bella. So beautiful! Driving back from the airport, the road hugged the coast of the Golfo di Trieste, or the gulf that opens into the Adriatic Sea. Green hills cup the coast like an amphitheater, and red-roofed houses scale the hills. It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Checca, Luca, Giada, Linda, and Pietro (another of Enrico's friends) took me to Rosso Pomodoro, a wonderful restaurant across the street from the Yacht Club that is a block away from my house. Apparently, in Italy when you order a pizza, you're supposed to eat the whole thing. I ate about a quarter of mine, but it was SO DELICIOUS that I wish I could have eaten five!

Today I had a lovely breakfast of bread and nutella (invented in Italy, of course) while listening to the sounds of the city through the open window. Afterwards, Checca took me out to explore the city, and we had a wonderful time seeing ancient Roman ruins from when Trieste was a part of the Roman empire two thousand years ago. The churches, the walls, the arches, the plazas, even the place where we had lunch--everything is ancient and beautiful and historical. I met up with Linda and her friend, Seba, in the Piazza Sant Antonio, a beautiful plaza which also faces the sea. After walking around a bit, practicing my italian and just joking around, we stopped at "the best place for gelato" where I got yet another delicious dose of nutella in the form of Nutella ice cream. I don't think I need to say any more about that :]

I honestly can't believe that I get to live in this perfectly amazing city for an entire year! Rotary is amazing, that's all I have to say :] To my fellow exchange students: I hope you guys are all having amazing times, keep up your blogs! They're so interesting. And to those who still haven't left, don't worry, you'll get here soon :]

I hope everyone is enjoying their last little bit of remaining summer! Until next time, Ciao.