Florence, Italy

Firenze

During the fall of 2005 I lived and studied in Florence, Italy. These were a series of blog posts and mass emails I sent to family and friends to keep them updated during my time abroad.

Florence, Italy: Athens (Rhetorical Sites)

Today was supposed to be my day of rhetoric. I’m taking a course via correspondence at TCU this semester in it. In the course, Dr. Enos gave me an assignment for when I visited Athens. I like to call it a university-level scavenger hunt. I had four things to find in the National Archaeological Museum and to use as the foundation for a paper I need to write. For sure I found two great examples of the four. I may have found another (the portrait head of Demosthenes didn’t have an inscription). One, which was supposed to be the first instance of the written Greek, wasn’t on exhibit!

Two or three years ago they closed the museum and remodeled it. The map that I picked up shows that over half of the museum doesn’t have exhibits available to the public. Hopefully the “missing items” on my hunt are in those.

I have a new strategy that worked well doing chronological museums: start with the present and work backwards. Most historians probably cringe hearing that. Their arguments that I don’t appreciate the development and progression have some merit. For me, though, seeing Mycenaen works at the beginning wasn’t working. I was bored! So, I started with the late Romans, retraced to the earliest works, and then went through again chronologically. Since I was a “man with a mission,” it was much easier for me to see the developments by skimming the descriptions and spending most of my time with the works that are famous and prominent.

I left the museum frustrated since my scavenger hunt wasn’t much of a success. One of the other favors Dr. Enos asked was for me to get the listing of holdings for a smaller museum in the vicinity. That visit made my day! The Epigraphical Museum (the one that specializes in preserving and cataloguing ancient texts) was without any visitors. The content is exactly what I like looking at. Sculptures and pottery are great, but looking at texts appeals to me more. There’s more information. For me, there’s more content on and in the forms the texts are written on than in the sculptures. Trying to decipher stone engravings is better than admiring and critiquing how they sculpted certain muscles.

I didn’t have time to tour the museum (that’s planned for Saturday), but I did make it to the Agora. The Agora, the gathering place in Classical and Hellenistic Greece (more in Hellenistic since Augustus was a major patron) served as the center of public life. Now all that’s left is a bunch of stones (in some ways the story of all Greece), but with the recreated Stoa, I could definitely tell why people would want to spend time there. The speeches of the rhetors and the teachings of the philosophers took place where I was standing — around two and three millennia before.

Other than all of the sites, the morning’s highlights are the souvlaki I had for lunch (it’s going to be a daily lunch) and my ride on the Metro. Athens’ brand new subway is incredible. It’s cheaper than any other I’ve been on (the Metro in DC, the T in Boston) and it’s supposed to cut out a lot of the smog production once more of the Athenians begin using it. The smog, while bad for the preserving the Acropolis and everyone’s lungs, does make pretty colors in the sunset. Nevertheless, the convenience of the subway beats out adding artificial colors to the sunset.

Florence, Italy: Athens (City of Promoters)

Every city is known for some quirk in its personality. Venice: the Romance. Florence: lots of Universities. Rome: the Church. Athens: the Promoters.

I met the TCU girls at a hill by the Acropolis. The Areopagos (Hill of Ares — the Greek God of War) is this incredibly slippery giant rock outcropping that you can climb and take pictures or just get a great view of Athens. We stayed and watched the sunset for a long time and then tried to find our way down to the Plaka. Even though I knew the quickest way (going back by my hotel), we decided to see if going around the other side of the Acropolis was quicker. It definitely wasn’t. 45 minutes later and we were in the Plaka and trying to find the restaurant.

I’d seen the restaurant last night and also knew that our 6:45 start for dinner was going to beat the crowd — by a huge margin. When I was looking at my map to find exactly what street the restaurant was on, a guy came up to us and asked us where we were trying to go. When I told him the name of the restaurant, he gave a little shrug and said it was only OK. He pointed it out and then said, “but try the Taverna ____ just down the street and you’ll like it better.” Everywhere I turn in Athens people do this. The hosts at restaurants in several cities make you wait for a while before they give you enough attention so you can ask for a table. The hosts in Greece will start pulling you as you’re walking by, motioning for the nearest open table. Even if it’s obvious that you’re not wanting to eat there, they’ll still get in front of you and try to redirect you to the nearest seat.

Our dinners were phenomenal. Unlike Florence, a place known for its pastas, wines and cheeses, Athens is known for its meats and baked dishes. Our table of four had a feast, and once again, for much less than we would have had to pay in Florence. For appetizers: dolmades (grape leaves stuffed with pork and rice) and mousakas (this baked dish with beef, egg plant, and a bunch of other stuff I couldn’t distinguish). Even with just the appetizers we knew that the meal was great.

Then came the main courses. My veal topped with a light tomato sauce (and accompanied by fried potatoes — not even close to tasting like French Fries) melted in my mouth, but still didn’t match up to some of the girls’ plates. Marisa’s skewer of meat probably beat out Jen’s codfish. All of the meats, though, tasted superb. We topped those off with individual servings of baklava. One word: intense. The honey wasn’t the slow-moving syrup kind you find in the US; it was a shining coat of sugary glaze that made the nuts and pastry go down slowly. You may think slow is a bad thing; in which case, you’d be wrong. With something that good, eating it slow is the only way to enjoy it.

They also had a barrel of white wine that they served on-tap. While Greek wine is OK, I’m definitely a fan of the Italian ones more. For some reason, the Greek one didn’t have as sharp of a flavor, so it went down like warm water. That was a case where slow wasn’t better.

After we finished the girls came back to the hotel and they wanted to look at the sunset pics on the computer screen. I ended up showing them all of the pictures I’ve taken in Florence and even showed them how I blend the triple-exposure shots to get the richest color spectrum. Then I walked them back to their street in the rain. Want to know the only downside to having a town made mostly of marble? It’s too slippery when wet. This was also a case where slow was definitely the only way to go. I didn’t need another trip to the hospital; which happens to be called the ‘nosokomio’ in Greek (I looked it up — it’s not from experience).

On the way back from walking with the girls I found two more of Athens’ promoters. These two guys in their late 50s, about four blocks apart, both stopped me and asked me if I wanted to meet girls. I laughed and said no. I’m not sure if they were setting up hookers or trying to get me to go to a nearby club; maybe both. I must have looked like a lonely American walking down the street.

Florence, Italy: Athens (Acropolis)

Around 2500 years ago the Greeks built one of the most recognized buildings in the world. It was situated on top of a giant rock outcropping that put it in an almost perfect defensive position. Now the Parthenon is being reconstructed after the Venetians destroyed most of it when the Turks controlled Greece. The Venetians, who I appreciate less and less every time I learn something new about them, not only looted the Orthodox churches in the crusades, but they also destroyed this building!

The Greeks are in the process of reconstructing it stone by stone. Scaffolds and cranes fill the view. Similar to many of the buildings in Europe, scaffolding is now a permanent part of the landscape for the next couple of decades. They’re not going to fully rebuild everything, but they are putting up the columns and the entablature (the horizontal cross-beam on top of the columns and capitals (the top decoration pieces on the columns)).

This morning I went up and just browsed around the Acropolis. I watched workers putting small individual stones in their places and securing them with mortar — paradocially with the same name at the things that helped destroy the Parthenon. I spent half an hour sitting on the outer wall of the Acropolis (looking down at at least an eight-story drop) and wondering if all of the reconstruction was worth it. Sure, the Parthenon is Greece’s national monument. Still, the effort seems so much more than the gains.

Then I went inside of the Acropolis Museum and completely changed my outlook. The reconstructions they have of the two facades at the end are amazing. If they can recreate them to look even half as good as the small sculptures in the Museum, it’s definitely worth it. The facades give a mini narrative of the Greek pantheon. The sculptures are detailed up close but also look great far away. Hopefully it looks as good when they reconstruct the real thing (if they end up doing the facades).

When I came out of the Museum I looked to the other side of the Acropolis and saw three of the TCU girls from Florence. I’d planned on meeting them there later tonight, but to see them at that spot that early in the day was surprising.

When we picked a spot and time to meet, I left them and grabbed some lunch before wandering around. Have you ever heard of a Souvlaki? It’s perhaps the unhealthiest, but best tasting, food in the world. McDonalds has nothing on it. A Souvlaki is a flat pita bread wrapped into a cone. Inside is pork that is shaved off of a giant skewer of meat that revolves on a rotisserie. With the pork are onions (which I couldn’t stand three years ago but I now love), tomatoes, lettuce and Sadziki sauce. Imagine a greasy (and as my Dad likes to point out: Greecey) pocket of goodness that drips oil onto you if you try to eat it too fast or drips oil onto the street/plate if you wait too long. The only thing better than the content and form of the Souvlaki is the price: 1.5 euros. In Florence I can’t get a Coke Light for that cheap!

The Agora was only open for another hour when I got there, so I’m saving that for tomorrow afternoon! Now I’m off to find a great hill to climb and take sunset-lit pictures from. :)

Florence, Italy: Athens (The Plaka)

The Plaka, not to be confused with the enemy of the world’s dentists, is an area near the Acropolis with shops and taverns (the Greek equivalent of an Italian ristorante). It’s also a five minute walk from my hotel, which is VERY close to the Acropolis.

The Hotel Philippos is a three-star hotel that definitely beats the camping village I stayed at in Venice. My room, with a queen sized bed (the first bed of the trip — besides at the hospital — where my feet don’t hang over the edge) also has a balcony with a chair for relaxing in the afternoon sun. Add a nicely tiled bathroom and an included breakfast buffet each morning and I can see why this hotel is highly recommended.

After checking into the hotel, I did a self-led walking tour of the Plaka and the nearby area. I’m going to need to spend at least an afternoon in the Plaka later this week in order to appreciate everything. It took me long enough to read the names that with some of them I didn’t even figure out what they did/sold.

I eventually stopped and had dinner at the Taberna Vizantine. My outdoor table overlooking the lights of the Plaka at night was picturesque. Not picturesque enough, however, for me to take out my camera. I was too busy soaking in the Greek culture (and words) to worry about that.

Often times when I have an ethnic type of food in the States, it doesn’t even approach the quality and freshness of having it in the native culture. Italian is definitely that way. I’m pleased to announce that the handful of times I’ve had Greek food in the States were all authentic. Tonight I had spanakopita (a spinach and cheese appetizer layered into a pastry), roasted pork with roasted potatoes, and a beer brewed in Athens (‘Alpha’). While the beer definitely doesn’t match up to my favorite German or American ones, the rest of the meal was intoxicating. I was so full at the end that I couldn’t order my favorite dessert …

Baklava – the dessert with two pronunciations. This pastry with multiple layers of honey and chopped nuts is definitely a treat. When I’d ordered it two weeks ago at a Turkish kebab place in Florence, they had no idea what I was talking about. I had to point it out and explain in Italian which one I was wanting. I said it the way I’d learned it — Baklava (with the accent on the first ‘a’). When I pointed, they said “oh, you mean Baklava (with the accent on the second ‘a’). Ironically they said that in English when I’d spoken Italian; I can’t really fool people. The nice thing tonight: I found my redemption. Greeks pronounce it the way I learn it. The pronunciation must have just been one of the few things that the Greeks and Turks didn’t agree on during the Ottoman Empire’s rule. 😉

Tomorrow is the Acropolis in the morning and then the Agora and Plaka in the afternoon.

Florence, Italy: Athens (The Flight)

Imagine a perfect airline. Imagine the perfect flight. List the qualities and that is what I experienced today. That is what airlines are supposed to be like. Aegean Air was perfect for my flight from Rome to Athens, Greece.

To begin, I was lucky enough to get an entire exit row to myself. For someone with really long legs, especially when flying internationally, this is a treasured benefit. When I first boarded I was afraid I would have to move since I don’t speak Greek (although my reading for ancient stuff isn’t terrible). Little did I know that language didn’t matter.

The flight attendants, all beautiful (and stereotypical Greeks), all spoke everything they said in Greek, Italian and English. Every time they said something, I picked up something in each of the languages. Words would pop out in the Greek, I’d understand the English, and then when they said it in Italian I could identify most of the words since I’d heard the English before. What shocked me is that I would respond to them in Italian – not English. I’m not sure it’s a good thing, but whenever they’d ask something, the Italian was what came out.

With the completely turbulence-free ride, they also gave us lunches. This was a two-hour flight mid-day and they gave us full lunches. First came the trays with cheeses, meats and a cold salad. Then came the steaming whole wheat rolls. It was amazing! Most airline meals are only so-so. The warm and soft rolls made this one great. Then, to top it off, the dessert was a piece of chocolate fudge cake probably 3″x3″ with white chocolate laced on top.

Landing in the nice Athens airport was also painless and the trip into Athens on the bus was simple. I’d only done a small amount of research into my trip before I left and they’ve made everything so easy (partially for the Olympics last year) that I’m not regretting it!

Florence, Italy: Breaking It Up

Today’s adventure was to Aegina, the closest island to Athens. This island is notable for two things: its pistachios and how it has become a suburb to Athens with people commuting to work from there. Sure, there’s a lot of archaeological material there too, but those two are definitely its two current popular points. To get to the island I caught the Metro to the nearby port of Piraeus. From there, I took a type of ship called a Flying Dolphin. With a name like that one would expect these things to look like submarines. Instead, they looked like boats with wings. To give it stability, the boat has two short stubs off of the front that prevent it from tipping over (I guess). They ships are called Flying Dolphins because they go much faster than the other ferries at a whopping 35mph.

I got to Aegina in one piece and then had no idea what to do. I’d read a little in the books and on the internet; but, besides the ancient temple on the other side of the island, the archaeological site near the harbor was the other main attraction. Since I had all day in Aegina, I decided to just walk around and get a feel for the island first. After 30 minutes of intense walking around the city with the harbor, I gave in and went to the archaeological site. It was interesting. Like most of Greece, it had a lot of history before the classical period and then another rebirth with Roman sponsorship. Having seen the National Archaeological Museum yesterday, the Aegina Museum wasn’t great. They did have excavations we could walk through, though; better yet, they were on a hill, which made for great harbor pictures.

Walking to the site I came on a street that made me laugh: it was called Nikos Kazantzakis St. (odos, actually: Greek for ‘road’ or ‘way’ or ‘journey’) I’m not sure if N. K. actually spent time on the island. In any case, they had a statue bust of him on a pedestal in park. For those not familiar with Kazantzakis, he’s the author of The Last Temptation of Christ (which I read for my Christianity and Literature course) as well as Zorba the Greek and a modern version of Homer’s Odyssey in the same rhyme pattern Homer used.

When I finished all of that, it was only 1pm and my ticket to return to Athens wasn’t until 6pm. Five hours to fill and nothing to do. (For a while I was tempted to try and get an earlier ticket. When I realized that daylight savings time put the sunset right before I left I refrained from missing it.)

It turns out I like hot tea. I sat down at a cafe on the water and read a book for an hour while enjoying two cups. I forgot my stocking cap for the trip (which means my head was cold from the wind coming off the water — but also was getting plenty of good sun on it), so the tea was perfect. After the tea I went and had lunch at a restaurant and then sat in the sun and enjoyed my book and the harbor for another two hours.

Then came the pictures. I went to all of the different sides and locations around the harbor just looking for good shots. Ships, especially yachts, are rarely boring to shoot. Their reflections on the water with the mountains on the islands behind them makes it a fun process. When I get back to Florence I’ll post the gallery of the day.

I also figured out in shooting those that I’m a sucker for sunsets. That takes a completely different entry to describe. Enjoy!

Before taking off, I grabbed pistachios to see if they really are some of the best. I now have a kilo of them (2.2 lbs) to test. Wish me luck. My journey to Aegina ended with a disconcerting omen: right once the ferry left the pier, someone’s cell phone rang. This would have been normal, except for their ring was “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion. A song made famous by a movie about a ship sinking was not what I wanted to hear. Before they could get a call back after they hung up, I stuck on my headphones and pressed play on my iPod. That definitely took the stress away.

Florence, Italy: Eventful Day

I just finished one of the most enjoyable and eventful days of my life. Imagine every class you take is incredibly interesting and none of it seems like a waste of time. Imagine every break in between classes naturally flowing with every errand you need to make on a stop directly between your location and your final destination. Imagine not having to worry about scheduling and just relaxing on the river of time that is flowing at exactly the right speed. I don’t know what I did, but for some reason, today was awesome.

It started with my Political Science class. Actually, it started when I went to the Accent Center before class. I did my reading on Machiavelli and then went and helped the staff with their computers. I finished one minute before our Political Science class began; but, the prof. knew I was helping and he didn’t mind me stepping in at the last second (at least he didn’t seem to). We spent the first half of the class going over the reading we’d done and he showed us clips from a movie based on a novel by Graham Greene (“The Third Man”) that related the atmosphere of Machiavelli in the Renaissance with the sections we were studying on Italian political parties in the beginning of the Cold War. I was anticipating every step of the way and it flowed wonderfully.

Then, he took us to a museum, that is the best I’ve ever seen. The Opificio delle Pietre Dure is this little museum off of a side street (I know, kind of funny to say in Florence) that has its artwork made out of semi-precious stones. It’s AMAZING!!! There was one room where every work was a recreation of an oil painting. They were all made in the 1700s and 1800s. Some of them looked so good they seemed to be 3D computer models. Before I came over to Florence I thought my Uncle Ron’s stone creations were the best things I’d seen. His creativity with the natural rocks he finds is amazing. I only wish he could see this museum. Every piece I saw reminded me of him. :)

Then Davide, our Poli Sci professor, took us to the State University in Florence. The classes are not meeting this week but that’s because the students are doing a sit-in and the professors are refusing to show up. Apparently the Italian Education Minister is trying to reform the school system so that once you pick a career path (I think around when you are 12), you can never change which track you’re in for school. How crazy is that? Let’s ask the 6th graders to pick what they’re going to do for the rest of their lives and hold them to it. This is a protest by both the faculty and the students that makes sense!

Then was a break and then my Italian class. Yesterday I wrote about some of my frustrations with how my class was going. It’s as if the professor read my blog (even though I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t know it’s here — but who knows these days). We came to class with write-ups of what we’d done this weekend. When we write and he has us read it, it makes sense. Even while listening to my classmates — and all of our mispronunciations — I was able to follow what each one was saying and predict some of the mistakes beforehand. The pace we took challenged us by making us work creatively outside of class and when he corrects the small things, but still teaches new stuff, it results in the perfect pace.

After class, I stopped by the travel agent I’m using for my Fall Break and he told me everything is a go. He’s booked my airline tickets to Greece and my hotels and when I come in Thursday I’ll pay for all of it and get my train ticket setup. Originally I was going to spend a couple of days in Athens and a couple in Mykonos. After a while I did some reading and Mykonos in November loses its appeal. It’s one of the sun capitals of the world. With cold winds, though, it’s not the hottest place — literally! Now I’ll get to soak in Athens at my own pace.

The only part of the day that wasn’t perfect is that I haven’t been able to find baking powder. Last Thursday our landlady brought over a cake for Brett and I. She said that she was making some and thought we’d like one. So, I’ve been trying to scrounge up the ingredients to make her sugar cookies for when I give the plate back! I’ve now got to search the internet for a recipe for sugar cookies without baking powder. I even went to a market that specializes in imports from the US. They have Snickers. They have They have Campbells Soup. They have Pop-Secret Popcorn. They don’t have baking powder though; it takes them three weeks to get it over here. :( Oh well, I’ll prevail in this cookie dilemma.

I topped off the night with a Fellini film: La Strada. Starring Anthony Quinn, this piece made very little sense to me in overall plot structure, but I really liked it. There are so many little details in there that stuck out. One of the characters spent the movie demonstrating the human instinct (or at least predominantly Western instinct) for seeking purpose. I suppose if I read some reviews and commentaries even more of the pieces would fit back together. One Tuesday every month, the Accent Staff put on the movie night. Last time there were only two students there and Sarah and one of her friends. This time it was just Jeremy and I. There are so many people missing out on great movies. I haven’t seen one that I felt was a waste of time yet.

I also just finished one of the most daunting tasks of the week: shaving my head. While I had the pattern for head shaving down so well before (to the point where I don’t think I needed a mirror), my stitches are an obstacle. I have to keep them dry, which meant that after I removed my bandage (for the first time since Saturday), I had to do a dry shave on the back of my head. While it’s not the easiest way to shave — it wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. Also, if I hadn’t been particular on how much of the hair I wanted off, I think I could have done it alone. Brett did need to help me with the section really close to the stitches though. It’s done, I feel fresh, and now it’s time to make dinner. Good night!

Florence, Italy: Slowing Up (or Down if you prefer)

It’s fun how quickly books can change perspective. I previously wrote about my guilty conscience for quickly reading my book on slowness. I got over it pretty fast, sped along, and finished it tonight. The book is good in so many ways. While I’d love to adopt most of its philosophies on slowness, I’m more enthused about some of the things it inspired. Most people who know me and read the book would say it’s written in several parts directly at me. I took my undergraduate years too fast, I’ll admit, but I enjoyed it too.

What surprised me most from the book was the thoughts it created for seminary. During my Spring Break retreat I came up with a list of requirements I had for seminary. While they are great ideals, they are becoming less important than they were. Here’s the list that I’d come up with:

• They must be flexible enough to facilitate me spending one semester in a 2/3 world context. They don’t have to plan all of the details, but they can’t be an obstacle either.
• Their faculty must be impressive. They should not only have some authors who are well-published, but they should have a passion for teaching and engaging with students. They must continue to want to learn and be willing to let students teach them little things (like computers).
• Their student body must be a community. While this does bias one against “commuter-campuses” to an extent, there are many ways to still foster this community in any setting. Students should have outlets, both structured and unstructured, to gather with their classmates and create friendships that last beyond their tenure at the seminary.
• The seminary should be diverse. Rather than having polarizations or basing on standard percentages (for age, sex, race, denominational background, etc), the seminary should have as varied a spectrum as possible.
• The seminary should also have connections outside of its context. This means more than just the “feeder” congregations and graduate schools that most students would go to. It should have coeducational programs with other seminaries and also work to create denomination-linking opportunities as a flagship for ecumenism.
• The seminary should encourage spirituality by example. While many professors do have understandable personal conflicts with current ecclesial bodies, they should at least have been formed in that context and desire to form others in similar contexts. The students should all either be serving as staff or active lay leadership within a local congregation. In other words, the seminary shouldn’t just give out another degree but should actively seek to change and strengthen the church.

I don’t know of any seminary that fits all of these. Looking back on the list, I know that the seminary I pick probably will not be able to perfectly match 3/4 of them. Here’s another requirement that the book brought out:

• The seminary must give me latitude in what I study. I recognize that the curriculum requirements will partially constrict my options; but, when I find an area I have a passion for, I don’t want to be told I have to study other things before I can study that. Because I finished a rigorous degree in Religion, there shouldn’t be many subjects with strict prerequisites that a seminary will say I’m not able to study. Does it require critical reading skills? Hopefully at that time they won’t make that an issue. Does it require some other knowledge in order to understand the context? Perfect, let’s make that, and only that, be the first lesson I study for the course.

TCU gave me the chance to explore. Some of my favorite courses were seminars requiring substantial papers or projects at the end. Some of my other favorite courses were the directed studies I did individually or with a friend and the professor. My Classical Rhetoric course I’m currently doing with Dr. Enos is a perfect example of the bullet point above. Even though I had relatively little historical knowledge of ancient Greece and Rome, Dr. Enos took note and adapted the first lesson to teach me. The course is made of readings and small papers that I write. The first reading was a novel that showcased the events and atmosphere of ancient Athens. What was a 20th Century novel doing in a course of ancient rhetoric? It’s exact purpose: to teach. Dr. Enos’ willingness to use a different medium and to do a course with flexibility in the curriculum has made it one of my favorite courses at TCU. That’s another thing a seminary should do: it should encourage learning by stoking the passions that the students bring to it or develop while there. Subduing the flames just to make sure the student is ‘well-rounded’ causes apathy and indifference.

The prime example of that while I’m in Florence is my Italian language class. I must confess that I’m a grammar nut. I know, it’s a sick hobby. Talking about the function of a word, and in particular any of its relations or nuances with the rest of the language, is a fun hobby. I love piecing together the puzzle of a language’s components. My Italian class, it’s about grouping together the pieces; it’s about creating a bunch from scratch.

This is really stemming from my bias for reading languages; I simply don’t like to speak them. Give me time, and I think I enjoy writing them. The ability to converse, while it does show mastery and helps more than anything with comprehension and retention, is so stifling! The other issue with our Italian class is what I want to focus on. It’s intentionally a conversation class, meaning we gloss over a bunch of the grammar and leave holes that I want to fill. How do Italians say infinitives with participial constructions? How do Italians nuance between possibilities and probabilities – are there any stresses with different activities in using particular subjunctives? I want to learn how to say “Eventually I will be going back home to live” instead of just knowing how to say “I leave on December 14th to the United States.” It’s a huge difference!

My current mood is that I’d rather study the Italian language looking for puns and other tongue-in-cheek instances I find, rather than study the forms of irregular perfect participles. Don’t get me wrong, the perfect participle has been an essential part (sorry, couldn’t resist) of every language I’ve studied; but, memorizing it in rote form just doesn’t make for a fun night. Will I ever master Italian? Probably not; especially with how hard I’m working on it. I will, however, enjoy the rest of the time I’m here before returning.

Can you believe rapidly reading a book about slowness brought all of that on? Wow.

Florence, Italy: Ospedale

I’ve now had an intercultural experience I never planned on and didn’t really want in the beginning: I went to the hospital. I don’t want to talk about the specifics, but for a period after just waking up this morning I lost consciousness and woke up with my head bleeding. My roommate’s gone for the weekend, as are all of the TCU people, so I called the Accent Center’s emergency number. Cristiana was on-call and helped me SO much. She and her boyfriend came and picked me up and rushed me to the hospital. After the hospital staff fixed me with five stitches (which now have to stay in for the next 8 days), they did some other tests that lasted the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon.

During the afternoon I was in observation and was in a room with a guy who was 53 and another who was 103! While the wait was kind of annoying (and actually relaxing), the 103-year-old kept asking the other guy about how the Fiorentina soccer team was going to do tonight. They also talked politics and WWII history. I’d like to say that I picked up most of it; but I really only understood about 20 percent of what they said. Either way, they were entertaining while I had to wait for the tests and the results. So, other than a splitting headache (which I can’t take Aspirin for — it thins the blood, which is something they don’t want) and some lost time and blood, I’m doing pretty good.

If you’re ever in a foreign country and have to go to the hospital: 1) make sure you’re wearing a t-shirt (mine was keeping pressure on the back of my head), 2) find a wonderful bilingual friend like Cristiana, and 3) think and pray a lot — they’re both therapeutic.

Florence, Italy: The Treadmill of Life

The treadmill has to be one of the greatest and worst inventions in the history of the world. It’s a contraption designed to make you work hard for amounts of time without getting anywhere. Yet, training on it (and its horizontally-impaired step-sibling the Stairmaster) lets me get into shape for hiking the Appalachian Trail. The work they put me through prepare me for the mountains that I get to walk up by my own pace.

It’s unfair that life’s a treadmill too. This week, I’m finding so many ironies that point out how bizarre and twisted life is. I’m reading two books at the moment (besides the school books and other ones that I’ve been working on for a while).

First, is “Spoken Here: Travels Among Threatened Languages” by Mark Abley. It’s amazing. It goes into the sociological reasons some languages are dying out while others are recovering and picking up speakers. When I struggle with Italian (almost every day) I can pick up this book and read about linguistics and the struggles those learning dying languages have. The book talks about how rapidly the number of languages in the world is decreasing.

Then I have my new guilty pleasure – “In Praise of Slow: How a Worldwide Movement is Challenging the Cult of Speed” by Carl HonorĂŠ. The book covers why slower is sometimes better. Many people would say this is the perfect book for me; it’s actually the perfect book for everyone. It’s a book on a philosophy started in Italy that makes life more enjoyable.

So where’s the irony in all of this? I’m slowly reading the book about languages dying fast while I’m rushing through the book about taking life slower. It’s terrible! I don’t want to put down the book on slowness because it’s so good. I want to savor the book about languages dying out fast and so I don’t pick it up as often. This is SO wrong.

Something even worse is that my music is this way too. On my iTunes party shuffle I just listened to “My Favorite Things” on Outkast’s CD, “The Love Below.” This remake of the Sound of Music classic puts a strong, fast, syncopated beat behind the melody line. It’s great for getting my heart racing faster and my mind spinning. Then came “A Song You Might Hear in a Wedding” by Jon McLaughlin. Probably THE most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. It’s a slow ballad with Jon playing piano and sing a love song very slow. The notes come out like honey (another irony: I read Proverbs 25:16 the other day (double irony: right after Eurochocolate)) and force the listener to hear the words and digest them. My music a perfect example of the double-life I live (and I’m assuming most people live): part of it is at a break-neck pace while the other part is a relaxed lethargy.

Italy isn’t the place where I will cure my double-life. Although, I can now at least look on it with a chuckle and get ready for the sprinting and the crawling.