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 :]