La Dotta, La Grossa, La Rossa

As some of you may or may not know, Bologna is commonly known as "La Dotta, La Grossa, e La Rossa." This translates to, "the learned, the fat, and the red." The learned is indicative of the Università di Bologna and the influence it has had on the city. Bologna is home to the oldest university in Europe - or at least in the Occidental World, and students come from all over Italy to attend. It has specifically had significant influences on the development of the sciences of anatomy and the study of humanities, especially philosophy. For class one day, we were taken on a historical tour of the city, as well as the university, and we got to see one of the first classrooms that was used centuries ago. The long white table in the center was used to hold cadavers for the study of anatomy. La Grossa, or "the fat" is pretty straightforward. Bologna is considered to be the food capital of Europe. It is famous for tortellini, bread, and above all, the infamous Bolognese meat sauce, more commonly known here as ragù. The ironic thing is that no one here is actually fat. I have yet to see one obese person, and I don’t know how the women do it. (I’m guessing all of the cigarettes, but there has to be some OTHER secret). Finally, Bologna is nicknamed “the red” for its aesthetic beauty. And of course because almost every building maintains a tingy, red/orange color that truly makes the city standout. From an outsider’s perspective, that is Bologna in a nutshell and is, I must say from what I’ve learned so far, extremely accurate.

In America we have a pre-conceived notion of what “college-life” is all about. Large, beautiful campuses, football games, frat parties, meal plans, dorms, etc. However, the Italian university system is an entirely different system (and I’m still confused about a lot of it!). For one, Italians rarely have homework or assignments, and written exams are sparse. You may be thinking to yourself that this sounds like a complete joke. But I would argue that Italians study more than your average American college student. While they may not have daily or weekly assignments to worry about, they have a final, ORAL exam at the end of the semester to prepare for. A task especially daunting for an American student speaking Italian as a second language, the Italian students study weeks, if not months in preparation for these tests. All for a 15 minute conversation with the professor. And these exams aren’t conducted privately either. You show up for class like you would for any other lecture, and one by one the professor calls down each student by name to take his or her oral exam consisting of three questions – if you are lucky enough to receive a third. Students who fare too poorly at the beginning don’t even make it to three questions. Yes, I will have to take two of these oral exams, no, I can’t take them in English, and yes, I am scared out of my mind. However, our program director is widely known and respected at the university and always makes sure we are enrolled in classes with professors who are understanding of students foreign to the language, so hopefully, non sarebbe un problema! Also, we have been told that here, the professors are the Emperors and their classrooms are their Empire. What they say goes. They are highly respected, and have much more power than professors do at American universities.

Bologna is also widely known for its prosciutto, of which there seem to be a million different kinds. You don’t order a sandwich with turkey and American cheese, but instead a panino with prosciutto and mozzarella. Additionally, everything is FRESH, which makes it all the more delicious. When we went on our mini-tour of Bologna we were also privileged enough to get to visit to of its best restaurants. The first was a pasticceria that made some of the best, most traditional “Pane Bolognese” (Bologna bread, essentially), which comes in ridiculous shapes that I couldn’t even begin to describe. We tasted a few different kinds of pane there (some even baked with prosciutto on the inside), as well as some “dolce” made with pane and latte (milk). The second place we visited was a vegetarian’s nightmare. Endless rows of meat and prosciutto were strung across the ceiling in addition to the innumerable assortments of meat readily on display behind glass cases. Here we were treated to a pranzo (lunch) consisting of prosciutto, salami, bologna, cheeses, bread, and wine – all of divine quality. It was outstanding. While our program may require us to do a lot of things on our own, they sure do treat us well. But seriously, I don’t think I have ever eaten so much pasta in my life. I know that was to be expected when I came here, but I’m not sure I was quite ready for how GOOD it would be. Not only that, but food is an integral part of the culture here. For how stingy Italians can be when it comes to phones, they are not hesitant to indulge in and splurge on good food. (Here, most everyone has pre-paid plans and unlike America, you don’t get charged for any incoming calls or texts – “SMS’s”. As such, it is common to pick up the phone and call someone, let it ring, and then hang-up before the other person picks up. The purpose of this is to make someone else call you when you need to talk to them. Strange, I know, but also a bit comical). We also took a trip to a ristorante called Ristorante La Traviata for a night of pasta making and eating. We arrived and were greeted by two adorable women who worked there, and who would be responsible for teaching us how to properly make pasta by hand. They equipped us with eggs and flour and we were put to work at once, mixing, stirring, and mushing until a solid yellowish dough emerged. Then came the rolling and the flattening, and finally, the cutting and shaping. I'm making this sound a lot easier than it really was, but that is a quick run-down of the process. It was such a cool experience. The women were extremely nice and taught us so much about Italian cuisine. Afterwards, they prepared our homemade farfalle and tagliatelli in ragu and cream sauces and we feasted. It was DELICIOUS. I never want to eat pasta from a box again. (I will, of course, but it was THAT good).


The final product - homemade Farfalle!


The secret "pinch" to making a perfect Farfalle!


The beginning of homemade pasta


La Macelleria (meat shop) we went to on our walking tour.


Our feast of Prosciutto, Salami, Bologna, Cheese, Bread, and Wine.


One of the oldest classrooms at the university used for studying anatomy.

A Place to Call Home

Finally, finally, after two long weeks of endless phone calls, countless visits, and hour after hour of waiting in agony for my tiny little Samsung to ring, I have an apartment. It wasn't my first choice, but I am nonetheless extremely happy with the way things turned out. Despite the fact that the other apartment had a GREAT location, the people who live in my apartment seem SO excited to have me as a roommate and are SO nice and friendly. I also would have had to find someone to replace my spot if I had gone with the other apartment. I am also hoping to remain friends with the students that I did meet. When Sara - the girl I have been in contact with about my dream apartment - informed me that they had chosen someone else, she was very apologetic and made sure to tell me that they really liked me and that she was very displeased to have to deliver such news. She also mentioned that her roommates were having a get-together on Wednesday and would love it if I could come. If anything, I have made out with a great apartment, and hopefully a group of new friends. I cannot tell you how relieved I feel at this moment. I am ecstatic. I am moving out of the hotel tomorrow and into my new place at 2:00. It is located in the Northwestern part of the city and is definitely walkable to the university and the center - which is about as good as I could ask for location-wise. It's in the newer/what used to be fascist part of the city, but that means that while the porticci and architecture of the building itself aren't as aesthetically beautiful as some of the older parts of the city, the inside is spacious and beautiful. The stairs leading up to the apartment alone are made of marble, which to be perfectly honest is going to be more of a downfall for me than anything. When I went to visit the place, I must have tripped at least two or three times before we finally made it to the apartment. (And I'm pretty sure it's only 2 or 3 flights up). The inside is older, but it is cozy and has a comfortable feel - just what I need. The two roommates I know best are Francesca and Emiliana and they are some of the sweetest people I have met. I can tell already they are going to take me under their wings and teach me how to cook, help me with my Italian, and turn out to be great roommates. I wish I could offer more details about the place and its inhabitants, but I have seen at least 10 apartments since I went to visit this one, and they are all starting to run together. Rest assured however, pictures will be posted A PRESTO! (Very soon!) I even went to IKEA today to pick up some basics - sheets, comforter, pillows, etc. so I am all set to move in. I have sincerely missed the luxury of having a closet, my own bed, a kitchen, and place that I can come back to after a long day and seek out comfort and relaxation - basic things that a hotel simply cannot provide. I think if anything this experience has re-instilled within me the value of home. It has always been something that I have always had, and in the past I have too often taken this immense luxury for granted. Coping without a true home for these past few weeks has been especially difficult in light of coming down with a pretty severe case of the flu. Mom isn't here to bring me tea or soda while I lay on the couch under my favorite blanket curled up watching a movie. Thankfully, however, I am slowly but surely kicking this flu to the curb, and will have a place that will resemble a home for the next 6 months by tomorrow afternoon. The wait is finally over, and I am regaining my health. Oh yeah, and I am in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. I could not be happier.

The Emotional Roller Coaster

To say that every moment I have spent in Bologna has been full of endless laughter, fun, and sunshine would be a complete lie. In fact, the sun barely comes out. It will occasionally peak out from behind the clouds for a few hours in the afternoon, but it never hangs around for long, and ironically, it makes the temperature outside colder. I'm told this is because the clouds help to insulate the city, making August a miserable and sweltering month and supposedly the worst weather-wise. There hasn't been much balance or moderation. Rather, my experience thus far can be defined by extreme highs and extreme lows, perpetually vacillating back and forth between the two. The good times have been inexplicably wonderful and the bad times have been miserable. Becoming friends with the other students in BCSP has been phenomenal. They are all wonderful, interesting, and genuine people - unique in their own way - and I think we would all be much worse off if we didn't have each other, especially amidst the frustration that this apartment hunt has caused for us all. Speak of the devil, the stress associated with finding an apartment has been the primary source of most of my stress and discouragement. Not to mention the fact that I have been pretty ill for the past week and have nonetheless had to forage out into the cold weather and check out apartments while trying to make a good impression despite having a cough terrible enough to scare anyone away. There have been moments where I have just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. I rarely get sick (and I mean "sick sick"), and even when I contract minor colds I am always the "suck it up, stick it out" kind of person. But when I get really sick (like I am now), the only remedy is curling up in my bed and sleeping or drinking hot tea. I am also becoming more and more exhausted of living out of a suitcase and desperately miss having a place to call "home." Even though a home doesn't always need an address, (thanks Cat) I miss having a place of comfort and warmth. This is only exacerbated by the fact that I have yet to secure a place to live here. I have never in my life felt so detached and displaced. The friends I have made so far through BCSP have become my only source of familiarity and comfort, and they have been absolutely wonderful. Without them, I would barely be standing on my own two feet. The highs and lows often vary hourly. You could be feeling great one minute, perhaps after seeing an apartment that you really like, and completely downtrodden the next because you found out that it was given to another person. I even had a friend who was offered a place at an apartment that she really liked and was really excited about it only to find out the next morning that the girls could no longer offer her the open room. It is a constant struggle to stay optimistic. However, there is always hope. I definitely have options, but the apartments that I have visited with have yet to contact me back and let me know if they have chosen me or not. I would return home excited and content after seeing one that I liked, only to again feel discouraged and frustrated when a few days had passed and no response followed. Tonight I visited an apartment on Via San Vitale (a GREAT location) and absolutely fell in love with the apartment and the students who lived there. I want to live there SO BADLY. It is in a beautiful complex and I would be living with 6 other students, 4 Italian, 2 French, and they were unbelievably nice. We chatted for a while and they offered me caffe and some delicious pasta that one of the girls had made and they truly seemed like they liked me. They also told me they thought I spoke Italian well and had never met an American who could speak Italian before, and that was definitely a much-needed confidence boost. The bad news is that I may not hear from them until Sunday or Monday (and we are departing from the hotel Saturday eeka), but I'm probably going to end up having to stay with a friend for a little bit after Saturday anyways. But I will be REALLY disappointed if I don't get it - it was by far my favorite out of everything that I have seen. But we shall see. As I have been saying, it is only a matter of time until I hit another low and start stressing out again because I am essentially homeless. But I cannot tell you how excited I am to finally get settled and return to a normal, stable routine. It's also been difficult trying to take care of all of this housing stuff while also keeping up with my Italian class. I love my teacher but we have had a tremendous amount of homework and between studying and house-hunting I have been exhausted. I'm also hoping to get back into a regular running schedule - I've definitely been missing out on all of those beta endorphins. Hopefully, cross my fingers, by the end of this weekend I will have a home. THE home, that is. For now, that is my only wish.

The Emperor of Caffè: Bar Impero

Before you get any false impressions, I must preface by saying that a "bar" in Italia is not synonymous to the American conception of a bar. Although pretty much every bar does indeed serve beer, wine, and cocktails, they can essentially be equated to coffee and pastry shops. What we would consider bars in America are called pubs or discotecs here. In addition to coffee and pastry, these bars also serve paninis, lunch and dinner items, and often gelato. And to truly live the life of an authentic Italian it is common to have a caffè in which you frequent almost daily and become "cliente" or well-known and respected customers. For me (as well as my friends Allie, Alexa, and Becky) this has become Bar Impero. It is located only a few blocks from Hotel Holiday and extremely close to the BCSP office - where some of our classes are located. Not only does Bar Impero have every type of pastry you could ever imagine, a scene that only a crazy person would be able to pass by nonchalantly without having to resist the tempting urge to enter immediately, but its assortments of caffè are endless and the apperitivi that are offered for lunch and dinner are some of the best I have had. We probably go at least once a day, especially since we are still living out of our suitcases and currently do not possess the means to cook for ourselves. Moreover, a caffè costs only 1 euro, and most everything else is moderately priced as well. Thus, we are hoping to make Bar Impero "our caffè." Slowly but surely I have begun to recognize the waiters and bar-tenders who work there, and we found out today that you can even obtain a card that gets you a free caffè or pastry after 10 purchases - EASY! ;] Suffice it to say however that Bar Impero has become our favorite place and the amount of hours we spend there daily would probably be considered a waste of time by most Americans. But Italy is a culture where the time spent over a meal or a caffè is of the utmost importance, and the ideal time to converse with friends and enjoy life.

Our intensive language and culture class with BCSP began today and I must not fail to mention the very important lesson I learned concerning the infamous Caffè Italiano. Despite the fact that class lasted for 2 and 1/2 hours (from 10:00-12:30 everyday), it passed quickly, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Our professoressa is from Romagna, the southern part of of the Emiglia-Romagna region in which Bologna is located and though she is strict, and speaks little English (which I think is better), she is a wonderful teacher. We spent most of the day learning about Italy and some of the different national, regional, and local customs, in addition to speaking Italian amongst ourselves. During our discussions we read an article about an American journalist's experience with colazione, or breakfast. Cappuccino and brioche (croissants essentially) is considered to be the staple of a traditional Italian breakfast. However, it is viewed as extremely strange to even consider ordering a cappuccino after 10:30. (This kind of behavior is only tolerated between the hours of 8:00 - 10:30 am). You will immediately identify yourself as a stranger if you decide to order a cappuccino any time after that. And God forbid you ever order one after a big lunch or dinner. While caffè is extremely common (espresso) for these times of the day - or at any time of the day for that matter - ordering a cappuccino after meals is believed by the Italians to be bad for digestion and extremely strange. Needless to say, the "culture of caffè" in Italia must not go overlooked. It runs through the veins of the locals like blood and can be found in countless flavors, styles, and sizes. It is the honest truth that you can never go wrong with a caffè. And much to my surprise - and I'm sure a surprise to the people who know me well - I have rapidly become a frequent drinker of this beloved beverage. I very much enjoy a nice caffè italiano in the morning - and perhaps after dinner at night - and have quickly developed a favorite for what is called a caffè macchiato, consisting simply of espresso and milk (and a little bit of sugar as well). I must also note that despite the cold weather, outside dining is a popular practice. Many bars are even equipped with heaters, some located above tables and some located directly in the middle that emit huge flames resembling mini fire places. We have taken to this practice often, and are slowly adapting to "la vita bolognese" (the Bologna lifestyle). Just give me a caffè from my favorite bar, an outside table with a little heat, perhaps a pastry or panino, and a few hours for conversation with friends, and I will be perfectly happy.

House Hunting: Italian Edition

As I mentioned before, my program requires me to scavenge the city for a place to live from the end of January to the end of June. I will preface by saying that never before in my life have I ever had to do anything remotely like this. In the United States, finding a sublet or a sub-letter seems to take months (at least it does in Chapel Hill). However, in Bologna 10 days is believed to be PLENTY of time to find an apartment/and or a sub-letter. Given the stress I felt trying to find a sublet for my house in Chapel Hill, it is easy to understand how stressed and anxious we all are. We have been instilled with the sincere fear that we will be left homeless if we are not able to find an apartment by next Saturday. At the same time, we have been reassured on countless occasions by the year-long students, other students that have participated in this program in the past, in addition to our advisers, that everyone WILL find a place within the time limit.

The process works like this:
You log onto an assortment of Italian websites offering rooms available and begin to contact the apartments that seem like a good fit. And by this, I don't necessarily mean that the apartment is perfectly clean, tidy, and decorated. We have quickly found, and have also been told, that the most important thing is finding good roommates. (Followed closely by finding a place within close proximity to the university and the center of the city). We can contact the other Italian students via email and cell-phone, and are also discovering that calling is certainly the more efficient and preferred method for getting into contact with the other students. (Apparently Italians don't incessantly check their emails like many Americans do). And THIS IS INTIMIDATING. Most of the time when I pick up the phone to call someone (with my new, and very basic white and pink cellphone), I can barely understand what is being said. Some of them speak faster then others, but usually once they realize that I am an American student, they speak a little slower, and I can get the gist of most of what they are saying. Often, if they are friendly and interested in living with "erasmus students" (essentially international students) they have requested that we come visit the apartment within hours from calling, and sometimes right on the spot. So far I have visited 7 apartments. 2 of which I adored, and the rest were pretty terrible. I got stood up once after walking 15-20 minutes to find the place - it seemed a bit sketchy anyways. Another one that I visited was inhabited by a girl and a guy who were looking for another girl and another guy. And even though she called me back today and wanted to know whether I was interested in living there, it is definitely not the place for me. Not only was the apartment extremely smoky and dark (which isn't necessarily a deal-breaker because almost EVERYONE here smokes inside), but the girl must have smoked at least 3 cigarettes in the living room while I was talking with her and her roommate for maybe 30 minutes at the most. My lungs could barely handle it. Although I was a bit disappointed because the location was GREAT. Needless to say this process is defined by extreme highs and extreme lows. It is exhausting, but will hopefully be rewarding in the end. I would also like to point out that this city is VERY easy to get lost in - even if you are Italian. A lot of the "vias" or streets change names and are constantly merging into piazzas and other vias. I'm slowly getting my bearings, but the process of researching, calling, visiting, and speaking with the students requires a lot of time and energy and for me at least, can easily go wrong. For instance, today I accidentally called a girl who lived in Florence because I thought that the ad she posted was for a place in Bologna. And tonight, I went to visit a place around 7 (that seems PERFECT might I add), only to realize after attempting to ring the doorbell multiple times, and calling the girl I had spoken with earlier, that we were in fact scheduled to meet tomorrow night at 7 - and not tonight. Such are the confusions associated with learning a new language. And now that I think about it, a lot went wrong today. I got lost trying to find the first apartment (the one with the excessive smoker) because apparently Via Petroni is not the same as Via San Petronio Vecchio (an obvious mistake, I know). But thanks to a kind mailman who was able to give me directions, I made it, although a little late. Something else I have learned during my search is that "5 Barra 2" is not the same thing as "5". It seems to be quite common for buildings to have "half addresses." Kind of like Platform 9 and 3/4 in Harry Potter. I should have known that I had made an error when I was unable to find the correct "compellino" - which refers to the name of the residents of the apartment, which can be found next to a speaker phone and a multitude of buttons that correspond to each respective compellino. You press the appropriate button and the person in the apartment responds, followed by a loud buzzing signifying that the door has been opened for you to enter. Well, I initially thought that I had misunderstood the compellino. After glancing anxiously back and forth from my map and the notes I had written concerning the apartment, I decided to just press one, and inquire if the resident who answered knew of the compellino that I was looking for. Thankfully someone responded, albeit very curtly, and the door opened. I'm not going to lie, I have no idea what he said, but I entered. After wandering up and down a tall flight of stairs for a few minutes, I finally asked a man who was entering his own apartment if he had any idea where these people lived. When he realized that I was supposed to be at 5 Barra 2 - it turns out I had entered Building 5 - he informed me that I was looking for the next building over. I thanked him and rushed out the door. Thankfully I had no problems finding the place after that. Our search for housing has also become a bit competitive. We all end up finding the same places to go visit, and are left waiting anxiously for the students to call us back a few days later. And it all boils down to who the Italians end up liking the most, and who seems like the most compatible fit. And as we have been told, and are slowly discovering for ourselves, we don't pick the apartment, the Italians pick us.

So, while we have yet to begin classes, I think I have been more stressed out this past week than I will be once classes do start. At this point, I'm just ready to find a place. And for now anyways, the search continues...

A Whirlwind of All Things Italian

The past few days here in Bologna have passed by so quickly. Orientation began January 10th - the first time I was able to meet all of the other students in my program who are from universities all around the east coast/mid-west - Indiana, Wisconsin, Cornell, Notre Dame to name a few. Almost everyday we have had to meet at the BCSP office (Bologna Consortial Studies Program) to talk about finding our apartments, safety, classes, and life in Italy in general. Our program is unique in that all of us are responsible for finding our own living arrangements in the city. Essentially, this entails searching on websites that equate to America's version of craigslist or roommates.com to find apartments or, "affitti" (postings) as well as flier advertisements posted by Italian students who have rooms available for rent. We have 10 days to find a place to live. Because my program is an immersion program, one of the main requirements is that we have to live with other Italian students to fully experience the Italian culture. And while it is stressful, frustrating, discouraging, and intimidating, (after all, we have to make phone calls to random Italian students and set up appointments IN ITALIAN, not to mention trying to go visit all of these places which are located all throughout the city) I truly believe that it will be totally worth it. And I can sense myself getting more and more comfortable speaking Italian and understanding what people are saying everyday. It is definitely a bit intimidating, and uncomfortable at times, but it gets better. My accent makes it pretty obvious that I am American, but I definitely sense that I receive more respect from the Italians when I speak their native language, and I don't think people immediately target me as an American just from the way I look. (Today, on two separate occasionas I was stopped by some Italians who then proceeded to ask me for directions to random streets in a city I have spent nearly 5 days in - GASP!). I have also thoroughly enjoyed getting to know some of the other Americans in my program. Especially my roommate. Allie has quickly become my best friend here. We do almost everything together, and we are SO compatible. She is such a down to earth, genuine, and all around amazing person, and I got SO lucky that I was paired with her. We are even planning on running a half-marathon together somewhere in Italy (or Europe perhaps), and a lot of the other girls seem extremely interested in joining us. (Suffice it to say, I think we ended up with the best room/roommate and perhaps some of the others may or may not be a little bit jealous ;]) But va bene, we have all been able to develop some pretty unique and wonderful friendships. I was told before I came here that after the first month, you don't really hang out much with the other Americans in BCSP because you end up going out and spending time with your Italian roommates, but I hope that I am able to do both. The thought of not hanging out much with some of my friends I have made thus far makes me really sad. (Did I mention how much I love my roommate?) Although, there is a small possibility that me and Allie could end up in the same apartment - with other Italian students, of course, but it really depends, and either way, we have promised to hang out regardless. And we just booked a trip to Venice for CARNIVALE at the end of February and plan on travelling a bit together later. The past couple of nights we have all gone out together and it has been wonderful. We speak Italian together and bond over pastries and espresso tutto il tempo (all the time). The other night a few of us went out to a fresh supermercato that we found and bought various types of formaggio (cheese, including asiago, peccorino, ricotta), prosciutto, insalate caprese (tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, and olive oil) bread, artichokes marinated in olive oil, and of course red wine, as well as some Prosecco (Italian sweet, sparkly dessert wine). It was DELICIOUS. We have also done quite a bit of shopping. Apparently in Bologna, which used to be largely communist (there is still an area within the city that is considered "facismo" or fascist today), the government controls when all of the stores are allowed to offer "saldi" or sales to customers. And because the stores are allowed to offer sales now, literally, in almost every single window there are huge signs offering sales from 30-70% off. Allora, I have bought a few things - including a pair of black boots that I have wanted for a while - but I'm trying to get a decent amount of my shopping done while the sales are still going on because apparently, when they end, no one knows when the government will allow them to come back. (So don't panic mom!). Also, I think I will definitely be able to indulge in Bologna's AMAZING food without having to worry about gaining much weight, especially once me and Allie start running/training for our half marathon. While it is extremely difficult to go a day without eating bread, cheese, and carbs for every meal, the portions are much smaller, we don't snack, and we have been walking everywhere. Although, I can't forget to include red wine in that mix, because it is as cheap as water, if not cheaper. Hence, why would you not drink it with almost every meal? Especially when the wine you can buy for 4 or 5 euro a glass might cost you $40 for a bottle in the States. Tomorrow we have to wake up early to mail in our "Permessi di sogiorno" (stay permits) in addition to attending several other meetings, but other than that, most of my time has been spent researching apartments on line, making appointments, and visiting different places around the city. Monday, our intensive language class with BCSP commences, and when we do have free time we have been exploring the city and enjoying ourselves. I cannot express to you how wonderful it has been, and how happy I am to be able to spend the next 6 months of my life in such a beautiful and unique city. Bologna è come nient'altra ...


A picture of me and Allie, la mia buona amica e coinquilina, at Caffe Parigi one night. I think this picture accurately attests to how close we have become :) It was funny, the first night we we all went out together in Bologna, one of the guys in our program told us we acted like we were sisters. To which we responded, "ma, siamo appena conosciute stamattina!" (We just met this morning!)


Allie, myself, and two other students from BCSP who have become really good friends of mine - also at Caffe Parigi. Dario and Alexa. Alexa goes to UNC with me. Dario is Italian, and has taught us so much about "La Cucina Italiana," and has really helped me to practice and improve my Italian speaking skills.


La mia amica Alexa and I enjoying a nice glass of wine with lunch. Like I said before, when you buy a glass of wine, you get free aperitivi (little appetizers essentially), which we thoroughly enjoyed. And I mean, we are in Italia after all. Wine with every meal is completely acceptable.


Some of our "hotel-made" Italian feast!


Our Insalate Caprese ... Soooooooooo good.

Finally, A Familiar Face

I have finally managed to get over the jet lag, and am thankful to be back on a regular sleeping schedule. Today my program officially began, and I said farewell to my tiny, single room in the Hotel and would later be assigned to share a double with another girl in my program in the room adjacent to the one I just moved out of. I met with Danielle, the assistant to the Director of IU-BSCP, Andrea Ricci, after packing up my things and relocating to the lobby. She talked with me for a few minutes, going over some important things about the program and giving me a brief lay-out of what we would be doing for the next few weeks. I was then able to meet my roommate for the next two weeks, who unbeknown to me, had arrived yesterday morning. Her name is Allie and she is originally from Chicago, and goes to Indiana University. She is really nice and we get along really well. Since we were the first to arrive and check in, we ended up heading out to explore the city before some of the other students. We bought our phones, which will be officially up and running tomorrow, and spent most of the day wandering around the city searching for places where we could find an assortment of different things that we realized we needed (watches, toiletries, a microphone for my lap top, etc). We grabbed lunch at a caffe that seemed to have a bit of a hipster feel for it and continued to bond over a delicious pizza and piccole bicchieri di birre (small glasses of beer). We literally talked non-stop, about half in English and half in Italian. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and even though I just met her this morning, I feel like I already know so much about her. Plus, it turns out that we have a lot in common - running being one of them. Allie actually just ran the Chicago Marathon. Suffice it to say that I think I may have found myself a running partner :]. For the rest of the day we continued to meander through countless streets and shops, and we even decided to check out an "Erboristeria," which is essentially an herbal or alternative medicine shop. We headed back to the hotel around 5 since we had been walking around all afternoon, and have since been relaxing on our beds, lap tops open. We're meeting with some of the other students in our program at 8 to head to dinner. It's kind of funny because this summer when I was interning in DC, I became really good friends with the girl who I sat next to and her name was Ally too. It's a really nice feeling to feel like I have a friend here, and even though I was initially hoping to be able to room with one of the other girls from UNC that I met prior to arriving in Italy, I am so happy that I was paired with her. We seem to be on the same wavelength with a lot of the things we chatted about, and what we are hoping to gain from studying abroad. I truly enjoyed her company, and am secretly happy that I ended up strolling through Bologna with her instead of the big group that left shortly after us. I believe I am witnessing the blossoming of a new friendship.

Antonio Preite

Antonio Preite is the man who showed me what a real Italian family is like. Today, I set about exploring the university area before I was supposed to meet the father of the landlord of an apartment that I was checking out. I walked up and down Via Zamboni and Via Belle Delle Arti, the two main streets that run through l'università. Despite the foggy and dreary weather, it was beautiful. Caffe's and bars were found on every block or so, spaced between the different "facoltà" (departments) of the university. Porticci lined both sides of the streets and the buildings were unbelievable. I ate lunch at a hole in the wall "Osteria" near the university called "L'Osteria di Orsa" (Bear Tavern), and enjoyed a delicious plate of tortellini. Afterwards I headed towards "Il Centro," or the center of the city (where Piazza Maggiore is located), where I was to catch a bus to the outskirts of Bologna to meet the man who was to show me my apartment. I was supposed to meet an old man with a beard at 16:00 (4:00 PM) at the bus stop next to a "Supermercato" called PAM. I got there early, and it seemed like the only people walking on the streets were only old men. And I was told that this man would be easily recognizable. As the clock hit 16:02, I saw Antonio. He was scurrying across the street at a pace extremely fast for men his age. He recognized me immediately (I was, after all, the only person at the bus stop) and warmly greeted me, kissing my hand, and quickly leading me towards the apartment. It turns out him and his family lived in the apartment adjacent to the one I was checking out. The two girls who lived in the other apartment were really nice, and the open room was much bigger than I expected. I spoke briefly with the girls, and then Antonio insisted I come to his place for some "dolce" or cake. I agreed, and followed him across the hall. We were greeted by his grand-daughter, Maria, who was 20 also, and studies religion at the university. She spoke English pretty well, and Antonio did also, but he mostly rambled on and on in Italian. He never ran out of anything to say, and I was surprisingly able to keep up with most of what he was saying. Not only did he treat me to some delicious "Fior di Latte" which is like a sweet flour cake, but he served me a two course meal, starting with home-made Bolognese Tortellini, and followed by a Mediterranean dish with chicken, potatoes, onions, and some other vegetables. It was out of this world. He also offered me wine and caffe italiano, which I informed him I had never had before. I told him I didn't drink "caffe americano" and he told me caffe italiano was much stronger, but encouraged me to try some. So I did. He even insisted that it was even better with just a drop of whiskey (and literally, I mean a drop). He stood there leaning over the bottle for almost a minute because he was being so careful pouring the whiskey into a tiny espresso spoon. I must say, it was very tasty. I've never liked coffee before, and it seems I have been shown the light. I have never received such hospitality from a stranger before. He was so kind and genuine. And before I left he gave me an orange and a clementine to take with me as well as a tiny plastic/wooden "barca" (boat) with a tiny jar of nutella in it. He gave one to Maria as well and told us that he imagined we were on the boat sailing on the highest of the seas and headed to port. He ended by explaining it was for luck in our classes at the university - which start tomorrow for Maria - and for good fortune in life in general. He then walked me back to the bus stop and pointed out every bar, caffe, farmacia, and negozio (store) we passed on the way. I thanked him for everything once the bus rolled up, and as he walked away I was still blown away by how much this old man had done for an American girl he had barely just met. I'm not sure if the apartment itself is going to be the right fit for me, but I don't think I will ever forget Antonio Preite. Afterwards I walked back to the hotel, and then wandered a bit more around the city before calling it a night. But not before I witnessed some locals dancing to live music in the Piazza. I'm not sure if it is a popular/traditional type of Italian line-dancing, or if it was just done on the fly, but it was really fun to watch, and I was even able to take a video of it. Tomorrow my program officially starts, and despite all the fun I've had exploring here, it will be nice to have some other students here to enjoy it with me.



L'area dell'università


The infamous "Porticci" a Bologna!






La mia barca per buona fortuna da Antonio (My good luck boat from Antonio).


Dancing in the Piazza.

Bologna: First Impressions

I woke up today around 6:00 am, after getting nearly 12 hours of sleep, and spent the next hour and a half getting ready, and looking up some sights to see in Bologna. I ate breakfast at the hotel at 7:30, when they started serving it, and I was famished. I had skipped dinner last night because of my 6 hour nap, and I didn't have much to eat prior to that either. After, I returned to my room, hung out for a while, and departed. I spent pretty much the entire day walking through Bologna. Wandered is probably a more appropriate term. I got turned around a few times, but I didn't stray too far from Piazza Maggiore, the center of the city, and a place I can easily find my way back to the hotel from. I went in and out of different stores (I did happen to find one of the H&M's in addition to Zara), and through several outside markets. Despite the foggy weather, it was still beautiful. It was cold, but really not too bad. I grabbed lunch at a caffe called "La Linea" and ordered a panino with formaggio (cheese) and tomato. Yumm. It was really cheap. Only about 5 Euro for the panino and a bottle of water, which seemed like a good deal compared to some of the other places I walked by. I explored La Basilica di San Petronio, which is absolutely gorgeous. I also found myself inside La Cattedrale di San Pietro, and am probably one of the few people who has pictures of it on the inside. (This is because you aren't supposed to take pictures, and I didn't read that sign until I was on my way out of the church. However, I didn't make the same mistake when I was inside of La Basilica di San Petronio). La Cattedrale was amazingly beautiful as well. It reminded me of a friend. Then I made my way to Le Due Torri, where I paid 3 Euro for a ticket, and then climbed to the top. The stairs were old and wooden, and it probably took 20-30 minutes to get all the way up, but it wasn't that bad, and it was TOTALLY worth it. The view was astounding. I wish it wasn't so foggy, but it was beautiful nonetheless, and I definitely plan on going back there. I came back to the hotel and showered before leaving once again to find a place for dinner. I stumbled into a cozy-looking wine bar/caffe and ordered a glass of wine and helped myself to the different dishes of antipasto. Italian wine is delicious. I don't know why you would even want to order anything else. I came back to the hotel, took a nap (because my body is still feeling the jet lag), woke up again, and decided to work on this. Tomorrow, I'm thinking of checking out the university area. I have also successfully made an appointment to meet with some future roommates and to visit an apartment, since I only have until Jan. 22 to find a place to live, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed.


Via Dell'Independenza. One of the main streets in my part of la città. Located here are many stores, bars, caffes, gelaterias, and pasticcerias (bakeries).


My single room in Hotel Holiday that I am staying at. On January 10th, when I get to meet my program director and the other American students, I will check out of my single and share a double with someone else - this time on the program's tab! But non c'è un problema, they gave me a special rate since I am staying there with IU-BCSP.


Piazza Maggiore. The heart of Bologna. The building on the left is La Basilica di San Petronio, which unfortunately currently appears to be under renovation. The building on the right is Il Museo Civico Medievale (Museum of Medieval History).


Due Torri (Two Towers). Two of the most famous towers that were built in Bologna by wealthy families in the 12th century in order to show off their prestige. There used to be something like over 200 towers in the city. The shorter one is Torre degli Garisenda and the taller one is Torre degli Assinelli. The height of Torre degli Garisenda was reduced because it was leaning, and thought to be a threat to the city. You are able to climb to the top of Torre degli Assinelli, and the view is breath-taking.


Una bella via nella città.


Foto from the climb up Torre degli Assinelli.


Sky view of Piazza Maggiore with the Alps in the background to the left. It was pretty foggy, so the pictures didn't come out as clear, but no worries, I am definitely going back.




My first dinner at a bar/caffe I stumbled upon. When you buy a glass of vino, you get access to an assortment of "Antipasti" or appetizers. This is popular for many of the bars/caffes I have seen here.


One of my several illegal pictures of the inside of La Cattedrale di San Pietro. (But I am glad I have them, it was breath-taking).

Planes, Tranes, and Automobiles

My journey from Charlotte to Bologna has been a long and wild ride. I departed from Charlotte Douglass airport at 2:35 PM, which was headed to Philadelphia, and finally Rome, Italia. I parted ways with my family at security and headed to my gate. After reading something one of my friend's sent me, I found myself in tears, alone, in the middle of the airport. I felt ridiculous, and then I realized I was sitting near some students who I was pretty sure were going to Europe as well, so I dried my eyes and struck up conversation. They were all students from Clemson who were studying abroad in Belgium. It was nice to chat with them while we waited. Strangers who meet in airports have more in common than they would have ever otherwise realized. I sat down in my seat, only to find out that the girl sitting next to me was from UNC also. Small World. She was leaving for Seville, Spain. I didn't read that entire flight, and I barely pulled out my I-pod. We hung around talking for a while in the Philadelphia airport until we had to find our separate gates. I really enjoyed our conversation. I sat down at the gate servicing Roma, Italia, and though it first appeared that it would be mostly Americans on the flight, I was really early getting to my gate, and was blown away by how many people I could hear speaking Italian once the waiting area filled up. And there were so many adorable little bambini. I ended up sitting across from a woman with short blonde hair, probably in her mid/early twenty's who, come to find out, had studied abroad in Rome herself when she was an undergraduate, and returned after graduation and has been teaching English in Roma for the past 3 and 1/2 years. The other was a tall, skinny Italian man wearing bright lavendar pants, and I'm pretty sure my attempts to speak Italian humored him quite a bit. Next to him was yet another girl studying abroad, but this time in Roma. The flight was long. I watched the social network, and tried to sleep but I couldn't. We arrived in Roma at 9:00 AM. Everything from that moment seems like a blur, maybe from the jet lag, the excitement, or the adrenaline, or some combination of all three. I managed to find my way around l'areo, through customs, baggage, and up to a train platform where I caught a train that would take me from the airport to the train station. The train ride was about 45 minutes to an hour and when we finally made it to the Roma Termini, I had about an hour and 1/2 to kill before I would catch my train at 12:15, which would take me from Roma to my final destination, Bologna. I mostly wandered during this time. There weren't many places to sit down, and I didn't really know what else to do. I surprised myself with my Italian when I went to go to the information desk to make sure that my ticket was all squared away because I had bought it ahead of time, and I definitely think I paid too much for it, but I would have had no way of knowing. Despite that the "binario" for my train had been changed, I made it. And after carrying my luggage around all day, I felt like I had just spent hours at the gym working on my arms. The train ride was really peaceful. I listened to music and switched back and forth between staring out the window and observing this family sitting across the aisle. They had the world's most adorable little boy, and they seemed so happy. There was a bit of confusion with the seating arrangements when an elderly group boarded the train in Firenze, so after a bit of confused exchanges of Italian, I ended up relocating. My car was full, and I didn't really want to venture too far since I knew Bologna was only another 30-45 minutes away, so I ended up standing by the door. It was nice though. I had a great view out of the window, even though much of the latter part of this ride was in a tunnel. Bologna took me by surprise. We emerged from a tunnel and all'improvviso, c'era Bologna. I am blown away. I can't believe I finally made it. From the little I have seen of it so far, Bologna is more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. I left the train station, although not without receiving wishes of luck from a pastor who had shared my seating section with me for the majority of the train ride. I caught a cab to my hotel and checked in. Before I fell asleep for a 6 hour nap that was only supposed to last for one, I took a shower and changed, in the process, accidentally pulling the alarm cord in my room which was followed by a call from the man at the front desk making sure everything was okay. I was trying to figure out how to work the shower and in the end, I was unable to do it without his help. I was expecting to feel like "the American" as soon as I set foot in Italia. And even though I did sometimes, especially when I was dragging around my two huge suitcases, there were moments where people treated me as if I were one of them. I don't know if they were being nice, or if they really were oblivious to the fact that I was an American who has never been in this country before, but it made me feel confident, and as the day progressed, I felt more and more comfortable speaking the language. Now, I'm not sure what I will do. I kind of failed at beating the jet lag, but I know I am definitely going to need more than 6 hours to make up for the past 48. It's too late to really go out anywhere in the city now, but tomorrow will certainly be full of exploration. After all, I am by myself for the next few days.

Pre-departure Jitters

I have only 3 days until I leave for Italy for 6 months, and I can't say that I've been more ready. And while I can't wait to board my plane and set off, I have been utterly overwhelmed by nervousness, excitement, sadness, nostalgia, anxiety, and loneliness. Everything is slowly but surely sinking in. My head has been spinning wildly with all of these crazy up and down emotions and thoughts that have been racing through my mind, and I've barely been able to keep my sanity. But I will be off very soon, and in the process of setting up this blog, I decided it would perhaps be appropriate to post a poem that I wrote. I've shared it with some of my friends already, but I wrote it about a month ago, and I hope you will enjoy it. I'm not great at it, but I used to write a lot, and so here is my renewed attempt at poetry ...

A dove, pretty and flawed,
with golden wings, restless, unsure,
the future bright, an ending raw,
A nest left empty, no door, no floor,
She flies alone, the unknown blinding,
her path unguided by a lost, searching soul,
wondering what in the world is most worth finding,
she's misplaced that fire, her fate un-whole,
her roots unearthed, her intuition blighted,
she's carried by the winds of time, of change,
leaving behind love, mistakes, and wrongs not righted,
there's no turning back, the past out of range,
for now anyways, for someday she'll return,
with wings ever stronger, and mind ever wise,
with memory of this place in her mind forever burned,
though nostalgic, surreal, with eyes forward she flies.
Her body wrought with fear, her heart heavy and sunk,
she's abandoned the known, her connections, her sanity,
but for hope, for curious hope, not all happiness is shrunk,
her senses desire and crave, something new, something free,
the journey ahead, with no promise, just me,
and a sparkling ray in the distance, the key,
the answer, the quest, the means, the end,
a piece of herself, alone, to cherish, to keep,
her dreams, her world, so real, so pretend.