I went to my first Mass in Italian today. Clara, Rodolfo, and I walked down to the Basilica of San Petronio for eight o'clock Mass. That's pretty early, by Italian standards, and we could tell. Mass took place on one of the smaller side chapels, and there were only about twenty people there altogether. We were the youngest people there by about ten years or so. Before Mass we prayed the Morning Office. There wasn't much music, but I did recognize the Alleluia and the tune of the closing hymn. The chapel hadn't been changed since before Vatican Council II, so the priest faced away from us for most of the Eucharistic Liturgy. It was really nice to go to Mass and connect with the universal church.
Afterwards, we went back to the hotel to eat breakfast and changed, and then, with the addition of Elisabetta, we headed out on our journey. We decided to make the long hike up to the Sactuary of San Luca, located on a hill southwest of the city. It took about two hours each way, but the entire path was under porticoes. The mysteries of the Rosary were painted along the wall, a good way to mark your progress. There were many joggers making the trek as well. Arriving at the top, we got a great view of the countryside of Emilia-Romagna. The church was ornate and colorful, lots of gold, lots of statues, lots of people. I saw this striking sculpture of St. Luke and the Blessed Virgin. It showed Mary, with a flower in her hand, looking in amazement at something, or someone, in front of her. I'm guessing the Annunciation. St. Luke was off to the side, watching and painting a picture of her. What a cool way to present writing a Gospel!
Elisabetta had read about a trattoria that was on our way back towards the city, and we stopped there for lunch. There were no menus at the Trattoria Meloncello; the waiter told you what you should get. Of course he knew at once that we were Americans, and suggested we try a plate with three different kinds of pasta on it: tortelloni con burro e salvia (butter and sage), grimigna e salsicca (a short, curly type of spaghetti and sausage), and something else I can't remember, but it was all delicious! And we were guaranteed that the food was "cento per cento Bolognese."
We walked through a very nice residential part of town, Saragozza. The houses were very brightly painted and elegant, and I remember one of the balconies was painted wrought iron flowers. Another was a salmon color accented with bright blue tiles with unicorn designs. Rodolfo's going to be living around that area, so I'll be sure to visit!
We got back to the hotel, and fell asleep. What a great Sunday!
30 August 2009
29 August 2009
Time to Spare
This morning we went back to the giant flea market at Montagnola. It is an intense experience. I found a few things I needed, like towels, but knowing that it's there every Friday and Saturday is comforting. I think that one way to cope with the dizzying size is to decide what you want to get before you go, and only look for the varieties of that thing.
This afternoon I took a walk around my future neighborhood. I like it. I found that there is a fresh fruit and vegetable market just one street over.
Dinner tonight at Il Palazzo: tortelloni filled with spinach and ricotta cheese, with gorgonzola sauce and walnuts. For dessert, we went around the corner to the Peccati di Gola and got gelatto. I got cioccolato fondente, dark chocolate, and cocco, coconut. It was like a liquid Mounds bar, but the flavors were richer and... better.
Tomorrow, we're heading to nine o'clock Mass at the Basilica di San Petronio, the patron saint of Bologna.
This afternoon I took a walk around my future neighborhood. I like it. I found that there is a fresh fruit and vegetable market just one street over.
Dinner tonight at Il Palazzo: tortelloni filled with spinach and ricotta cheese, with gorgonzola sauce and walnuts. For dessert, we went around the corner to the Peccati di Gola and got gelatto. I got cioccolato fondente, dark chocolate, and cocco, coconut. It was like a liquid Mounds bar, but the flavors were richer and... better.
Tomorrow, we're heading to nine o'clock Mass at the Basilica di San Petronio, the patron saint of Bologna.
28 August 2009
Apartment? Check!
I’m continuing the last post with a second segment. I didn’t want to make one so long, but I have so much to say! The appointment I had to see the apartment today went well. So well, in fact, that I’ve decided I want to live there!
The apartment is a fifteen-minute walk from the main university street, Via Zamboni, but it is very close to the Department for Foreign Languages, which will be convenient for me. It’s a small street, Via dei Bersaglieri, which branches off of a larger street, Strada Maggiore. The area around it is absolutely beautiful. Just before you turn off of Strada Maggiore onto Via dei Bersaglieri, there is a large basilica, Santa Maria dei Servi. Very cool. I will be able to see the dome and hear the bells from my apartment. There’s a convent attached to the back of it.
Well, outside the apartment, there’s a little patch of trees, which is pretty rare in Bologna. The stairs to the third floor (only the second floor, according to European counting), are marble and well-lit, and I think that this used to be a much nicer building that it is now…which is fine because it still looks nice but doesn’t cost as much. Serena was standing in the doorway, and right away I was struck by her friendliness. She showed Clare and I around the apartment, which consists of a kitchen, a double, two singles (one is Serena’s and the other is a Spanish girl’s), bathroom, and a spacious hallway. There was a lot of space, by Italian standards. The kitchen is a bit small, but there’s also a couch in there, so va bene (that’s fine). There’s a balcony off of the kitchen which overlooks the street. I’m going to be living in the doppia (double) with another girl I haven’t met yet. The room’s big and sunny, and—I was so excited when I realized this—there’s a balcony off of this room, too! I really like the apartment, the location, but Serena was so nice and friendly, and that really sealed the deal.
One negative thing is that there isn’t a regular contract. Serena has a contract with a landlady, but the other girls in the apartment aren’t on it. I was a bit worried about this, but I did ask Serena if there could be a type of contract between her and me, at least to have documentation about when I pay rent, and so on and so forth. I will thus be in nero, in black. This really will be an authentic Bolognese experience!
So, I move in on Tuesday, I think. I’m so glad that the search is over and that I have found a place to live, especially with such a nice roommate. I can’t wait to meet the others!
P.S. There’s an extra pull-out bed and a couch, so come visit me!
Signed, the Sengenblogger
The apartment is a fifteen-minute walk from the main university street, Via Zamboni, but it is very close to the Department for Foreign Languages, which will be convenient for me. It’s a small street, Via dei Bersaglieri, which branches off of a larger street, Strada Maggiore. The area around it is absolutely beautiful. Just before you turn off of Strada Maggiore onto Via dei Bersaglieri, there is a large basilica, Santa Maria dei Servi. Very cool. I will be able to see the dome and hear the bells from my apartment. There’s a convent attached to the back of it.
Well, outside the apartment, there’s a little patch of trees, which is pretty rare in Bologna. The stairs to the third floor (only the second floor, according to European counting), are marble and well-lit, and I think that this used to be a much nicer building that it is now…which is fine because it still looks nice but doesn’t cost as much. Serena was standing in the doorway, and right away I was struck by her friendliness. She showed Clare and I around the apartment, which consists of a kitchen, a double, two singles (one is Serena’s and the other is a Spanish girl’s), bathroom, and a spacious hallway. There was a lot of space, by Italian standards. The kitchen is a bit small, but there’s also a couch in there, so va bene (that’s fine). There’s a balcony off of the kitchen which overlooks the street. I’m going to be living in the doppia (double) with another girl I haven’t met yet. The room’s big and sunny, and—I was so excited when I realized this—there’s a balcony off of this room, too! I really like the apartment, the location, but Serena was so nice and friendly, and that really sealed the deal.
One negative thing is that there isn’t a regular contract. Serena has a contract with a landlady, but the other girls in the apartment aren’t on it. I was a bit worried about this, but I did ask Serena if there could be a type of contract between her and me, at least to have documentation about when I pay rent, and so on and so forth. I will thus be in nero, in black. This really will be an authentic Bolognese experience!
So, I move in on Tuesday, I think. I’m so glad that the search is over and that I have found a place to live, especially with such a nice roommate. I can’t wait to meet the others!
P.S. There’s an extra pull-out bed and a couch, so come visit me!
Signed, the Sengenblogger
Some assorted thoughts
The other night, a big group of us went to eat at “Il Ducale,” which is just around the corner from our hotel. In the evenings, the restaurant sets up tables on the small piazza of the church next to it, and we chose the outdoor dining. It’s been so hot during the day, and only becomes slightly cooler at night. Because I had forgotten to eat lunch that day (it was simply too hot to think of eating), I ordered, and ate, an entire pizza con mozzarella di bufola, a cheese that apparently comes from really big, black cows, not bison. It’s very soft, and has a stronger flavor than regular mozzarella. There were also thick slices of grape tomatoes. I don’t know how the Italians do it, but somehow they’ve managed to figure out how to cook a tomato without losing is juiciness. If I find out, I’ll let you know.
After dinner, we decided to take an evening stroll down Via Santo Stefano, one of the main streets. Such a beautiful night, and in one of the piazzas there was an outdoor concert. I had one of those “am I really here?!” moments. This also confirmed my decision to live in this part of town.
A little further on, however, this strange guy approached us, saying he was from Utah…now, you and I both know that no one is actually from Utah, and if they were, they wouldn’t be in Europe. Sketchy! We got away from him quickly, especially as one of the girls said that he’d been following us for a while. We got back to the hotel with no problems.
Today, we got up rather early to go to the post office to formally apply for our permessi di soggiorno, which will allow us to stay in Italy for an extended period of time. Bureaucracy. It’s everywhere. On our way back to the BCSP office, I saw something which was even stranger than the graffitied picture of Dexter on the garage facing the hotel: it was this old man wearing a Notre Dame Irish t-shirt! Forgetting all the rules about not making eye contact with Italian men and being respectful to those older than you, I ran up to the guy and told him I went to school there. I must of caught him off-guard, because he just responded, “Brava” and continued walking. But wow. It is a small world, after all.
Speaking of Italian men, what they say is true. They are beautiful, they do dress well, and they very openly admire the women passing. There have been some cat calls, some whistles, and lots of up-downs. But, as my friend Rodolfo put it, if you know you’re in a country where the men act that way, wouldn’t it be worse if they ignored you? Clara and I have found a couple ways to mitigate this attention. One is to wear sunglasses. Then you can look at people without fear of your glance being taken the wrong way. The other is to walk like an Italian woman, which can be summed up like this: walk, thinking “I am so much better than ALL of you.”
Anyway, today felt long because for most of it I was absentmindedly searching apartments postings online while waiting for my 3:00 appointment. We finally decided to take a walk, and Clara and I discovered a giant outdoor market near the Montagnola gardens. They were selling clothes and shoes and accessories and plants and towels and curtains and jewelry and did I mention the shoes? We decided that we’ll return after we have moved into our apartments and have room to put all that stuff. What we did buy today were our planners. After looking at three or four cartolerie (stationery shops) to find ones that we were used to from the States, we realized that we wanted something really Italian. So now I have this inch-thick, hardcover book with one page for each day. The interesting thing is, it’s all graph paper! Italians use graph paper for everything. They don’t stay in the lines when writing, but they like to have them nonetheless.
After dinner, we decided to take an evening stroll down Via Santo Stefano, one of the main streets. Such a beautiful night, and in one of the piazzas there was an outdoor concert. I had one of those “am I really here?!” moments. This also confirmed my decision to live in this part of town.
A little further on, however, this strange guy approached us, saying he was from Utah…now, you and I both know that no one is actually from Utah, and if they were, they wouldn’t be in Europe. Sketchy! We got away from him quickly, especially as one of the girls said that he’d been following us for a while. We got back to the hotel with no problems.
Today, we got up rather early to go to the post office to formally apply for our permessi di soggiorno, which will allow us to stay in Italy for an extended period of time. Bureaucracy. It’s everywhere. On our way back to the BCSP office, I saw something which was even stranger than the graffitied picture of Dexter on the garage facing the hotel: it was this old man wearing a Notre Dame Irish t-shirt! Forgetting all the rules about not making eye contact with Italian men and being respectful to those older than you, I ran up to the guy and told him I went to school there. I must of caught him off-guard, because he just responded, “Brava” and continued walking. But wow. It is a small world, after all.
Speaking of Italian men, what they say is true. They are beautiful, they do dress well, and they very openly admire the women passing. There have been some cat calls, some whistles, and lots of up-downs. But, as my friend Rodolfo put it, if you know you’re in a country where the men act that way, wouldn’t it be worse if they ignored you? Clara and I have found a couple ways to mitigate this attention. One is to wear sunglasses. Then you can look at people without fear of your glance being taken the wrong way. The other is to walk like an Italian woman, which can be summed up like this: walk, thinking “I am so much better than ALL of you.”
Anyway, today felt long because for most of it I was absentmindedly searching apartments postings online while waiting for my 3:00 appointment. We finally decided to take a walk, and Clara and I discovered a giant outdoor market near the Montagnola gardens. They were selling clothes and shoes and accessories and plants and towels and curtains and jewelry and did I mention the shoes? We decided that we’ll return after we have moved into our apartments and have room to put all that stuff. What we did buy today were our planners. After looking at three or four cartolerie (stationery shops) to find ones that we were used to from the States, we realized that we wanted something really Italian. So now I have this inch-thick, hardcover book with one page for each day. The interesting thing is, it’s all graph paper! Italians use graph paper for everything. They don’t stay in the lines when writing, but they like to have them nonetheless.
27 August 2009
Shapes and Sizes
Well, the days continue here in sunny Bolgona. I think I'll give you a little geographical perspective on the city. There is a large, circlular street (the viale)that surrounds the city which follows the path of the medieval wall. They took the wall down, but left the doors (the porte) There are twelve porte around Bologna.
Yesterday I saw three apartments, each in very different parts of the city. One was very in centro, very close to all the action. Another was near the southern part of the city, where seven people lived all squished together. The third was on the far east of the city, in view of the porta di San Felice. None are what I'm looking for. I don't want to be unrealistic, but I do know where I want to live, in the south east of the city, near the large gardens. I'm not so much of a city girl, and I know I'll miss trees!
Tomorrow I have an appointment to see and apartment in exactly this location. There are three girls, and they're looking for a fourth. The one I've been emailing sounds really nice, and I have a feeling maybe this is the one! But I don't want to get my hopes up, so I am going to make a few more calls for appartments.
Telephone plans in Italy are quite different than those in the US. Most people use pay-as-you-go and buy phone cards to load onto their phones. There are monthly plans, but there's no contract, and no monthly bill for them. First of all, you pick each little thing you want in your plan. How many minutes you want, if they're only for people on your plan or for everyone, if you want texting, if you want to call other countries, everything is added seperately. Then you still have to buy those calling-type cards and load your phone with money, because the cell phone company will detract the monthly fees from that. Confusing, yes? Well, imagine how it was for the guy who had to explain it to us... in Italian!
Doors in Bologna have been such an adventure. It seems that every door needs to be opened differently from the inside. Sometimes there's a button on the door, sometimes a lever on the handle. No two are the same. Today, when Clara and I were trying to exit a building after seeing an apartment (which she decided to take!), we could not figure out how to open the door. It probably took us four or five minutes, and all the people walking outside could see through the glass door as we frantically poked anything that looked remotely like a button or lever, until we noticed there was a button on the wall. But we took that as a sign that Clara was meant to stay there.
Today I didn't seem to get much done. But we did take a placement test for the pre-session and meet the teachers, and there was food, and of course it was great! Sandwich-y stuff, if I can call it that. But the bread was so soft, and the cheese and tomatoes and artichokes and proscuitto was so fresh and good! I saved one, and I'm going to go eat it now. I'll get back to this later.
Signed, the Sengenblogger
Yesterday I saw three apartments, each in very different parts of the city. One was very in centro, very close to all the action. Another was near the southern part of the city, where seven people lived all squished together. The third was on the far east of the city, in view of the porta di San Felice. None are what I'm looking for. I don't want to be unrealistic, but I do know where I want to live, in the south east of the city, near the large gardens. I'm not so much of a city girl, and I know I'll miss trees!
Tomorrow I have an appointment to see and apartment in exactly this location. There are three girls, and they're looking for a fourth. The one I've been emailing sounds really nice, and I have a feeling maybe this is the one! But I don't want to get my hopes up, so I am going to make a few more calls for appartments.
Telephone plans in Italy are quite different than those in the US. Most people use pay-as-you-go and buy phone cards to load onto their phones. There are monthly plans, but there's no contract, and no monthly bill for them. First of all, you pick each little thing you want in your plan. How many minutes you want, if they're only for people on your plan or for everyone, if you want texting, if you want to call other countries, everything is added seperately. Then you still have to buy those calling-type cards and load your phone with money, because the cell phone company will detract the monthly fees from that. Confusing, yes? Well, imagine how it was for the guy who had to explain it to us... in Italian!
Doors in Bologna have been such an adventure. It seems that every door needs to be opened differently from the inside. Sometimes there's a button on the door, sometimes a lever on the handle. No two are the same. Today, when Clara and I were trying to exit a building after seeing an apartment (which she decided to take!), we could not figure out how to open the door. It probably took us four or five minutes, and all the people walking outside could see through the glass door as we frantically poked anything that looked remotely like a button or lever, until we noticed there was a button on the wall. But we took that as a sign that Clara was meant to stay there.
Today I didn't seem to get much done. But we did take a placement test for the pre-session and meet the teachers, and there was food, and of course it was great! Sandwich-y stuff, if I can call it that. But the bread was so soft, and the cheese and tomatoes and artichokes and proscuitto was so fresh and good! I saved one, and I'm going to go eat it now. I'll get back to this later.
Signed, the Sengenblogger
26 August 2009
I primi giorni a Bologna
Buonasera! I'd love to fill you in on my first days of Italian life.
Yesterday was a very long day. Probably because I didn't sleep more than a half hour on the plane and missed the transition from one day to the next. When I arrived in Munich, I had very little time to get off one plane and on the next, in fact, I never stopped walking the whole half an hour I spent in the city. I heard announcements looking for lost passengers, in english and german, depending on the nationality of the passenger. When I was nearing my gate, another announcement came on, in German. But I understood one word: Sengenberger. They thought I was German! So I marched right up to the lady with a big "Good morning!" That settled it. Boisterous Americans. There's simply no substitute.
They temporarily lost my luggage on that little flight over the Alps! This Chinese kid was in my seat when I got there, but I managed to get him to move. After all night in a middle seat, I was taking that seat! But this guy clearly had no concept of personal space, as he was leaning on me almost the whole flight, looking out my window. It was worse when he started filming the flight, and stuck is camera two inches in front of my face. And then cracker got stuck in my throat and I needed a drink of water and I was going to bump his arm if I did... I managed to survive.
Getting to Bologna, I realized that Rodolfo, also going to BCSP from ND, was on my flight the whole time! Small world. And Clara, who I'd met on Facebook, had gotten in an hour earlier and waited for me. So we set off together in a taxi. Friendly guy. Great welcome to th
e city. We arrived at the hotel, met some other pe
ople from the program, and then went on a walk. A long walk. The city is very interesting (I'm trying not to use cliched "beautiful" or "cool"). The streets are narrow, and are covered by porch-like porticoes. No umbrella needed. But it has been sunny and hot since we got here. Rodolfo, Clara and I went back to the aeroporto to get my luggage, and learned how to use the bus system along the way, which involved a lot of walking to the wrong bus stops. We were all at the point of falling asleep. After dinner, a group of us walked down to the Piazza Nettuno (with a large fountain of said god) and got our first (well, for me at least) real Italian gelato. Delicioso. And then we finally went to sleep. A lot done on our first day!
Today was another
stuffed day. We started out with orientation meetings, which included applying for the permesso di soggiorno, a document which will allow us to stay here. Useful, but long and complicato. Then we grabbed lunch and some of us went to get our cell phones. The man at the Wind shop was very friendly, as all the Italians have been. Now that I have an Italian number, and can begin calling people about appartamenti. Which is rather intimidating. Another meeting in the afternoon, about how to find a place. Then a walk, to grab signs advertising apartments. Then Rodolfo, Clara, and I went to look at one. It was in a beautiful and peaceful part of the city, but none of us really were enamored of it. A very good experience, nonetheless. Also because we passed the Sorbetteria, a well-known gelato place. Of course we stopped. It was even better than the night before. I know what you're thinking. But no, I will not be getting gelato every day.
And tonight, I had my first Italian meal. It was at a pizzeria, so obviously all of us thought it was going to be pizza, but Andrea Ricci--head of BCSP program--had other plans. The first course was eggplant lasagna, fresh mozzarella, parmesan, zucchini, potatoes. And everything was fabulous! Then this awesome pasta dish arrived. The pasta was made at the restaurant, and went stupendously with the white cream sauce, prosciutto, and arugula. For dessert, we got tiramisu (which literally means "pick me up"). That is the reason I am still up at 12:57 Italy time, typing away, and trying to ignore my twitching foot. So much espresso. Which I am enjoying so much more than in the US.
Well, readers, thanks for bearing with me through that long descrizione. I'm still trying to believe I'm actually here.
More to come... always more to come.
Signed, the Sengenblogger
Yesterday was a very long day. Probably because I didn't sleep more than a half hour on the plane and missed the transition from one day to the next. When I arrived in Munich, I had very little time to get off one plane and on the next, in fact, I never stopped walking the whole half an hour I spent in the city. I heard announcements looking for lost passengers, in english and german, depending on the nationality of the passenger. When I was nearing my gate, another announcement came on, in German. But I understood one word: Sengenberger. They thought I was German! So I marched right up to the lady with a big "Good morning!" That settled it. Boisterous Americans. There's simply no substitute.
They temporarily lost my luggage on that little flight over the Alps! This Chinese kid was in my seat when I got there, but I managed to get him to move. After all night in a middle seat, I was taking that seat! But this guy clearly had no concept of personal space, as he was leaning on me almost the whole flight, looking out my window. It was worse when he started filming the flight, and stuck is camera two inches in front of my face. And then cracker got stuck in my throat and I needed a drink of water and I was going to bump his arm if I did... I managed to survive.
Getting to Bologna, I realized that Rodolfo, also going to BCSP from ND, was on my flight the whole time! Small world. And Clara, who I'd met on Facebook, had gotten in an hour earlier and waited for me. So we set off together in a taxi. Friendly guy. Great welcome to th
e city. We arrived at the hotel, met some other pe
ople from the program, and then went on a walk. A long walk. The city is very interesting (I'm trying not to use cliched "beautiful" or "cool"). The streets are narrow, and are covered by porch-like porticoes. No umbrella needed. But it has been sunny and hot since we got here. Rodolfo, Clara and I went back to the aeroporto to get my luggage, and learned how to use the bus system along the way, which involved a lot of walking to the wrong bus stops. We were all at the point of falling asleep. After dinner, a group of us walked down to the Piazza Nettuno (with a large fountain of said god) and got our first (well, for me at least) real Italian gelato. Delicioso. And then we finally went to sleep. A lot done on our first day!Today was another
stuffed day. We started out with orientation meetings, which included applying for the permesso di soggiorno, a document which will allow us to stay here. Useful, but long and complicato. Then we grabbed lunch and some of us went to get our cell phones. The man at the Wind shop was very friendly, as all the Italians have been. Now that I have an Italian number, and can begin calling people about appartamenti. Which is rather intimidating. Another meeting in the afternoon, about how to find a place. Then a walk, to grab signs advertising apartments. Then Rodolfo, Clara, and I went to look at one. It was in a beautiful and peaceful part of the city, but none of us really were enamored of it. A very good experience, nonetheless. Also because we passed the Sorbetteria, a well-known gelato place. Of course we stopped. It was even better than the night before. I know what you're thinking. But no, I will not be getting gelato every day.
And tonight, I had my first Italian meal. It was at a pizzeria, so obviously all of us thought it was going to be pizza, but Andrea Ricci--head of BCSP program--had other plans. The first course was eggplant lasagna, fresh mozzarella, parmesan, zucchini, potatoes. And everything was fabulous! Then this awesome pasta dish arrived. The pasta was made at the restaurant, and went stupendously with the white cream sauce, prosciutto, and arugula. For dessert, we got tiramisu (which literally means "pick me up"). That is the reason I am still up at 12:57 Italy time, typing away, and trying to ignore my twitching foot. So much espresso. Which I am enjoying so much more than in the US.
Well, readers, thanks for bearing with me through that long descrizione. I'm still trying to believe I'm actually here.
More to come... always more to come.
Signed, the Sengenblogger
24 August 2009
The Adventure Begins (written at 7:00pm on 8/23)
I thought that adventure waited for me in Italy, but it turns out it couldn’t wait to get to me. Let me tell you the story.
Once upon a time, Maria got to the airport (half an hour away from her house) at 3:00pm for her 4:31pm departure. When she went to check her bags, it was generally discovered that Maria was not in possession of her passport. This was because she had made a copy of said document just before leaving her house. While her father jumped back into the car to retrieve it, Maria’s sister Rose realized that she no longer had a ride from the airport to the Greyhound terminal in Pittsburgh for her bus to Cleveland that left at 4:15pm. Maria and her younger sisters, Angela and Christiana sat down in a panic while Mother Sengenberger bravely waited with Rose for another bus into Pittsburgh. The ladies at the baggage check area said that Maria must be there by 4:01 to make her flight. Father Sengenberger had barely enough time to make it!
Thank God for good neighbors. Christiana called her dear friend Jane, who lived next door. Jane is in possession of a key to the Sengenberger’s house, which has come in handy in multiple situations. Jane rushed across the alley and began a search of the living room and sun room to find the missing passport. It was discovered to be still in the scanner, at the computer. This heroine then sped toward the airport in her car, and met Mr. Sengenberger halfway there. THANK YOU JANE!
Father Sengenberger made it back to the airport at 3:55pm. Christiana was positioned at the door, and her track training cam e in handy as she relayed the passport to Maria, already standing at the baggage check-in. Neither piece of luggage was over the fifty-pound limit, and the Sengenberger clan rushed down to security, where more trouble awaited them.
After a sadly hurried goodbye to her dear parents and sisters, Maria jumped into the security line, forgetting, in her rush, to remove her laptop from her backpack. The nasty computer guy who probably doesn’t have a life anyway yelled at her, and told her to go back through the little scanning gate. Which she tried to do, the first time bumping into a lady coming through the other way (Maria must learn to look where she is going!), the second time forgetting to re-remove her shoes, and the third time, she made it through. However, at this time the stress had caught up to the unfortunate, empty-headed girl, and she began to cry. She went through security again, laptop removed, with nice security ladies comforting her and telling her to stop drawing attention to herself by crying.
Jumping on the shuttle and racing up two flights of escalators, Maria made it to her gate five minutes before they began to board. PHEW! And Rose managed to make all of her connections!
Now she sits in Washington, D.C., mildly panicked about her flight to Munich begin delayed forty minutes and wondering how she will make her connection in Munich, which is supposed to leave forty minutes after the original landing time of the Washington flight.
Maria now has a list of things she will never do again, including, (1) leaving her passport home when flying internationally, (2) forgetting to take her laptop out to be scanned, and (3) crying in the security line.
Stay tuned, this is not the end.
Signed, the Sengenblogger
Once upon a time, Maria got to the airport (half an hour away from her house) at 3:00pm for her 4:31pm departure. When she went to check her bags, it was generally discovered that Maria was not in possession of her passport. This was because she had made a copy of said document just before leaving her house. While her father jumped back into the car to retrieve it, Maria’s sister Rose realized that she no longer had a ride from the airport to the Greyhound terminal in Pittsburgh for her bus to Cleveland that left at 4:15pm. Maria and her younger sisters, Angela and Christiana sat down in a panic while Mother Sengenberger bravely waited with Rose for another bus into Pittsburgh. The ladies at the baggage check area said that Maria must be there by 4:01 to make her flight. Father Sengenberger had barely enough time to make it!
Thank God for good neighbors. Christiana called her dear friend Jane, who lived next door. Jane is in possession of a key to the Sengenberger’s house, which has come in handy in multiple situations. Jane rushed across the alley and began a search of the living room and sun room to find the missing passport. It was discovered to be still in the scanner, at the computer. This heroine then sped toward the airport in her car, and met Mr. Sengenberger halfway there. THANK YOU JANE!
Father Sengenberger made it back to the airport at 3:55pm. Christiana was positioned at the door, and her track training cam e in handy as she relayed the passport to Maria, already standing at the baggage check-in. Neither piece of luggage was over the fifty-pound limit, and the Sengenberger clan rushed down to security, where more trouble awaited them.
After a sadly hurried goodbye to her dear parents and sisters, Maria jumped into the security line, forgetting, in her rush, to remove her laptop from her backpack. The nasty computer guy who probably doesn’t have a life anyway yelled at her, and told her to go back through the little scanning gate. Which she tried to do, the first time bumping into a lady coming through the other way (Maria must learn to look where she is going!), the second time forgetting to re-remove her shoes, and the third time, she made it through. However, at this time the stress had caught up to the unfortunate, empty-headed girl, and she began to cry. She went through security again, laptop removed, with nice security ladies comforting her and telling her to stop drawing attention to herself by crying.
Jumping on the shuttle and racing up two flights of escalators, Maria made it to her gate five minutes before they began to board. PHEW! And Rose managed to make all of her connections!
Now she sits in Washington, D.C., mildly panicked about her flight to Munich begin delayed forty minutes and wondering how she will make her connection in Munich, which is supposed to leave forty minutes after the original landing time of the Washington flight.
Maria now has a list of things she will never do again, including, (1) leaving her passport home when flying internationally, (2) forgetting to take her laptop out to be scanned, and (3) crying in the security line.
Stay tuned, this is not the end.
Signed, the Sengenblogger
23 August 2009
Tomorrow, tomorrow!
Tomorrow is the day of destiny. My bags are packed, my papers are in order, my to-do list checked off (well, nearly).
Bologna is known for having the best food in Italy, which, of course, has the best food in the world. So, after a summer of preparation, eating peanut butter, burgers, and American pizza and ice cream at every opportunity, I am heading off to the gastronomical capital of the world. Ten months of pasta, can she do it? My taste buds, and waistline, have no idea what’s coming.
Before I board the plane, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on what I hope to gain from this experience. Care to join me? I love making lists.
Some Things I Want to Do (in no particular order):
- Take a cooking class
- Become fluent in Italian
- Stay in touch with friends and family
- TRAVEL (some possibilities: France, Germany, Greece, Austria, Switzerland, Ireland, through Italy)
- Go to an Italian soccer game (calico!)
I’m sure this list will grow and shrink, but it’s nice to have something to start from. It all sounds so epic, doesn’t it?
I’ve been looking at apartment postings on kijiji.it, a kind of Italian ebay, and I emailed a few people about ones that sounded reasonable. I received a response already, and it seems that I have an appointment the day I arrive!
My flight leaves Pittsburgh at 4:30 pm tomorrow. From there I’ll go to Washington, D.C., then Munich, then arrive at Bologna at noon on Monday, Italy time (which is six hours ahead of Eastern Time). Just gotta work on that sick feeling in my stomach...
Signed, the Sengenblogger
Bologna is known for having the best food in Italy, which, of course, has the best food in the world. So, after a summer of preparation, eating peanut butter, burgers, and American pizza and ice cream at every opportunity, I am heading off to the gastronomical capital of the world. Ten months of pasta, can she do it? My taste buds, and waistline, have no idea what’s coming.
Before I board the plane, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on what I hope to gain from this experience. Care to join me? I love making lists.
Some Things I Want to Do (in no particular order):
- Take a cooking class
- Become fluent in Italian
- Stay in touch with friends and family
- TRAVEL (some possibilities: France, Germany, Greece, Austria, Switzerland, Ireland, through Italy)
- Go to an Italian soccer game (calico!)
I’m sure this list will grow and shrink, but it’s nice to have something to start from. It all sounds so epic, doesn’t it?
I’ve been looking at apartment postings on kijiji.it, a kind of Italian ebay, and I emailed a few people about ones that sounded reasonable. I received a response already, and it seems that I have an appointment the day I arrive!
My flight leaves Pittsburgh at 4:30 pm tomorrow. From there I’ll go to Washington, D.C., then Munich, then arrive at Bologna at noon on Monday, Italy time (which is six hours ahead of Eastern Time). Just gotta work on that sick feeling in my stomach...
Signed, the Sengenblogger
16 August 2009
The First Post- Program Explained
Dear Readers,
Hi, for those of you who don't know me, I'm Maria. I am currently a junior at the University of Notre Dame, studying French, Italian, and English literature.
Welcome to my blog! Now that I have successfully persuaded you to come to the website, I promise to try to keep you coming back.
I thought it'd be a good idea to explain under what conditions I will be in Italy. I am studying abroad for the academic year (August 09 -June 10) at the Universita' di Bologna in Bologna, Italy through Indiana University's Bologna Consortial Studies Program (BCSP). I know that was a lot of meaningless names, and I'll try not to let it happen again. But it might. I leave exactly one week from today, and will arrive in Bologna next Monday. I'm sure you've all heard of those study abroad programs where all the Americans live together and their meals are provided for them, and they go on field trips together, the program holds their hand and tucks them into bed at night. Well, comparatively, this program throws you out of the plane mid-air, yelling, "Have a good year!" Of course, this is an exaggeration and the BCSP folks will be there to help me, but the goal is total immersion into Italian culture. This includes finding an apartment, choosing and taking (and passing!) classes (all of which will be in Italian), shopping for and cooking food, making friends (well, I hope so!), and, for me at least, finding a place in the Catholic community there.
Universita' di Bologna (UniBo) classes don't begin until the end of September or beginning of October. The first month we are there will be the pre-session, which will include classes on Italian grammar, culture, and history, trips to surrounding areas, and adjusting to Italian life. BCSP will house us in a hotel for the first ten days we're there, and by that point we need to have found another place to live. With Italians. No English speakers. Intimidating? Yes. Impossible? No.
Wish me luck!
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