Pictures - Venezia

Dinner with Clara

Sitting on Piazza Maggiore, enjoying the lovely evening. Me, Erin, Sky.

Michelle, Clara, Rodolfo.

Christen, me, and Lenore in Piazza San Marco, Venice!

Michael and I, Piazza San Marco.

Gondola, canal, guess where we are!

Venice at night.

San Marco, in all its glory on a Sunday morning.

View of Venice from the bell tower.

Michael and I at the top of the bell tower.

View from the other side.

Venezia!

A two-hour train ride brings me from Bologna to Venice. I know that because Michael and I took it this past Saturday. We met up with Christen and Lenore (studying in Austria this semester) in the Piazza di San Marco and let the good times roll.

Venice is a city that has discovered the art of being beautiful. I can say this because even the parts of the city that are not as new or as clean as they used to be are astoundingly pituresque. It must be the water that does it. Canals are just much prettier to look at than streets. And much quieter. Instead of car motors, the ambient noise in Venice is produced by the thousands of tourists. But every once in a while, you come upon a curvy street so thin you can't turn sideways while wearing a backpack, and you find the closest thing to silence that exists in Venice. And you also realize you must be going the wrong way to the Rialto bridge, because there isn't a horde of visitors carrying you along with it.

We tried to see the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosi dei Frari, but when we entered they told us they were closing and wouldn't sell us a ticket to see the church. However, looking at the schedule for the church, we saw that there was a Mass in forty-five minutes. Perfect, because we had wanted to go to Mass! So we waited, andupon re-entering the church we were questioned as to our motives. Yes, we are going to Mass. And what a lovely liturgy. Not only did the celebrant talk slowly enough for my to understand, but there was also breathtaking artwork everywhere you looked: Titian's "Assumption of the Virgin" was displayed right behind the altar.

We didn't take a gondola, but the bus-boat system worked perfectly, and was much lighter on our wallets. Taking the #1 from the train station to Piazza San Marco, you see much of the city, and slowly enough to take it all in.

Sunday morning, we went to the Basilica di San Marco, but were disappointed to discover that the day they chose to be closed was Sunday morning. And that wasn't because there was Mass, either. So, we went up the Bell Tower instead. I must admit I was a little skeptical, just because it's so tourist-y and I felt like I could get the same view from Google Earth. I was wrong. If there is one city you need to see from it's highest point, it's Venice. The mix of land and water, blue sea and orange tiles, is astounding. I'll put picture up soon.

All in all, I very much enjoyed visiting Venice. However, I couldn't imagine living there. I was very glad to get back to my wide (never thought I'd call them that!) bolognese streets.

Signed, the Sengenblogger

La simple vita

I have been overjoyed to discover that although Italians may walk quickly, and talk quickly, there are some inviolable things that they do not rush through: food and friends. Here in Bologna, there are plenty of each.

Tuesday night, to celebrate Allegra’s first night in her apartment, a group of us decided to have hamburger night. Yes, we are immersing ourselves in Italian culture, but give us a break, it’d been pasta and pane for three straight weeks! And they tasted great. I can’t say better than in the States, but different, and a good different. Cheese was superior, tomatoes were juicier, bread was fresher, and the meat was really good. And then we discovered that the package said “equine.” Yes, it was horse meat. But somehow that shocking realization didn’t faze us, so engrossed in our salivary delights as we were. Then we sat, and talked, and laughed, and everything else was second priority, sleep, homework, and that long to-do list of independent living. Wasting time? It’s true that such behavior in the States would stress me out, but here I’ve learned, or am learning, to slow down a bit.

Tonight, for instance. Clara came over to make dinner, which was a recipe consisting of everything I had in my kitchen thrown together: chicken, prosciutto, rice, tomato sauce, onion, garlic, basil, and last, but not least, brie and fresh mozzarella cheese. …I don’t think I’ll starve this year… Afterwards, we met Rodolfo, Erin, Michelle, Anne, and Sky by the Fontana di Nettuno, grabbed a gelato at Grom, and settled on the steps in front of the Church San Petronio, where we sat for a few hours, just enjoying the glowing Piazza, filled with young Italians. No TV, no music (except for my outbursts of song), no video games, just chatting and chuckles.

I’m looking forward to perfecting the art of relaxation this year, or setting aside time for leisure, for learning how to balance the to-do list with the must-not-miss list. And, of course, eating well along the way.

Ravenna and all things mosaic

This past weekend was excellent: Michael visited from Rome, we went to Ravenna with the BCSP group, and saw some very creative musical exhibitions.

It's amazing what time can do to a city. Ravenna, once the seat of the Roman Empire, is filled with memories of its past, churches, baptistries, and most of all, mosaics. As you can see from my pictures, the mosaics have not lost much of their original luster, as the buildings have. For a few of the sites we visited, we had to descend several feet into the ground to be able to use the original door of the building, as the tides of time have made the ground level rise.

The mosaics were breathtaking. The great thing about art is that it is understood in every language. Professor Benevolo told us that the mosaics in Ravenna come from a "magical" time, that they capture the unique transition between classical Byzantine artwork and what it would become in Italy. I can't imagine how long it must have taken to plan where to put each little piece to make the larger design, and then cover the entire ceiling of a building. Another thing I was struck by was the mix of art types in the churches. As time went on, they would redo part of the church, making some things new, leaving some things old. This is really evident in the church of Sant'Apollinare (time to scroll down to look at the picture), where the walls, the ceiling, and the altar are all from different ages.

Lunch in Ravenna was incredible, if not only for the food, then for the fact that the program paid for it. Can't beat a free meal. Anyway, the primo piatto was tortelloni, always a good decision. Then they brought platters of grilled vegetables, tomatoes and peppers and zucchini, and more. Then out came baskets of warm flat bread, platters of assorted meats, prosciutto and the like, and bowls of soft cheese. And to top it all off, bowls of fresh fruit and espresso. Food is definitely an art form, and Ravenna is a very artistic city.

Saturday evening, while strolling through the streets of Bologna, Michael and I heard live music. We sought it out, and discovered a concert in one of the piazzas. A concert of five old Italian men wearing pullover sweaters and loafers singing songs from the Beetles, the Rolling Stones, and others, in very strong accents. At times their songs sheets failed them, as they sang "It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a log/ It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a dog." It was great, though, standing there in the group of Italians, being a few of the only people who understood the words, and watching the crazy little Italian children dancing around. Some of them had pretty good moves.

On we went, until I heard a sound that could not be mistaken for any other: a marching band. And it was a marching band. The twenty-person Power Marching Band came strolling (I really can't say marching...) the street with their hodgepodge of instruments. It wasn't organized or professional, but it was a lot of fun. The great irony of the situation was that just before we saw them, I had been thinking of the Notre Dame football game going on, and how my marching band was playing just at that moment. Small world, eh?

Signed, the Sengenblogger

Pictures Ravenna

Allegra and I, at her birthday party!

The mosaic ceiling of the Battistero Neoniano.

The outside of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo.

Inside Sant'Apollinare Nuovo.

The altar

Mosaic of Mary, Jesus, and angels.

Ceiling of the Battistero degli Ariani.

Dante's tomb.

Inside the tomb.

Erin and I at lunch.

Michael and I at lunch.

The restaurant. Wouldn't mind going back there again!!

The Basilica di San Vitale. This mosaic depicts the story of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac.

Over the altar at San Vitale. Mosaic of Jesus and angels.

Mosaic of the sacrifices of Abel (on the left) and Melchizedec (right).

A depressingly fuzzy picture of the stunning interior of the church. Two levels of exquisite painting and glorious light.

Inside the Mausoleo di Galla Placidia. The intricacy of the mosaics is stunning.

Mosaic of the Good Shepherd inside the Mausoleo. No flash was allowed inside, so the colors suffered.

Michael, avoiding the picture in the main piazza of Ravenna.

Dante pretty much made the transition from Latin to Italian. Thus, the Latin scholar and the Italian major returned to his tomb to commemorate.

An outdoor concert in one of the piazzas of Bologna. Five old Italian men singing English songs. Priceless.

A marching band in Italy?!

Michael and I

Encounters of the Italian Kind

Cartoleria
The other day I walked around the corner to my neighborhood cartoleria (stationery shop) to get some envelopes, and I ended up much more than that! When I asked for the envelopes (they keep the plain stuff in the back and only show the flowery stuff up front), the lady heard my accent and she asked me where I was from, then Vittoria, Sandro (another patron of the shop) and I got into a twenty-minute discution on everywhere I should go this year. Sandro was hilarious. "You don't need to go to Roma or Napoli or Venezia or Firenze yet, first you need to see Milano. The others aren't top priority. If you spend four hours in Firenze (Florence) and you don't shoot yourself, it's a miracle!" he said, pretending to blow his brains out. I told him that I wanted to visit Assisi, and he asked why. To see St. Francis, I responded. "Oh no! You need to go to these other places, like Barcelona and Sicilia, first so you can sin, and then you go to Assisi to make up for them!" Sandro also said that the most beautiful place in all of Europe is Sardegna. With the verbal list he gave me, I could spend the whole year just travelling through Italy! So, we'll see.

Flatmates
I'm not alone in the apartment any more! I do enjoy alone time, it's true, but after almost a week by myself here, I was very glad to have Serena back on Tuesday and to meet Ania yesterday. It seems the only thing Ania and Serena have in common is their size. I feel like a giant. Which isn't anything new, have you seen how small my sisters are? Ania is this funky graphic arts major with bright red hair and her full share of piercings and tatoos. Serena, on the other hand, is a philosophy major who plays the flute in the orchestra and loves finding quiet places to study in. They're great, and so patient with my attempts at Italian! We ate dinner together last night, along my Alex from BCSP, and it was a riot. Because the kitchen is so small, part of the table is underneath the shoulder-height cabinets. Which wasn't a problem, because we were dining with two... vertically challenged people, who fit perfectly in the short seat, with an inch or two to spare!

We chatted about all sorts of things, from childhood stories to cultural differences. And we played show and tell, "mostrare e dire". I had peanut butter and vanilla extract and measuring cups. Serena was amazed at how small the measuring cups were, because here they just have one large measuring container, with markings for each amount. Which really makes sense, when you think about it. Serena and Ania are anxious to try peanut butter, but didn't miss the opportunity to poke fun about how much fat there is in it. They also want me to make pancakes. And they've decided they want to eat the pancakes with peanut butter. I am happy to oblige, but I think I might try to find some maple syrup instead. There is one store in Bologna, Scaramaglia, which sells imported food. A box of muffin mix is about eight dollars. But it's nice to know it's there, should I ever need it. But I think I'll stick to biscotti.

I also showed Ania and Serena a video of the University of Notre Dame Marching Band! Thank you, NBC. Yeah, they were pretty awestruck. And I'm not sure if they thought if was cool, or just dumb. No, no, I'm joking. They liked it. They thought the preciseness of the marching was very impressive, and were shocked to find out that the basses had to trot off of the field with the rest of the band.

Bus
Today I learned a valuable lesson. The bus will not automatically stop at every bus stop. You need to let the driver know by pressing one of the many "STOP" buttons. Yes, for some reason the Italians have decided to adopt the use of stop, for everything from road signs to lectures. Ztahp. Anyway, back to the story. I didn't know this because every other time I've ridden the bus, someone else has done the deed. I saw a lot of Bologna today. It's a good thing I didn't have any pressing engagements, only a couple heavy bags of groceries and a sheepish smile.

Signed, the Sengenblogger

Pictures 2

My room on Via dei Bersaglieri!

Views from my balcony!

Clara and I

Me, Rodolfo, Gabriele, Michelle, e Max

Out the train window on the way to Milano Marittima

The lovely city itself.

Delicious coccomero (watermelon).

La spiaggia!!

Beautiful house

Alex, Clara, Erin, and I at the train station.

Rodolfo and I