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