Le Prove

Or trials. I went to one today, where they had all the horses come in, accompanied by their be-scarfed contradaioli, belting out the same song, but with 17 different variations, depending on which contrada one becomes a part of.

It's a wonder to hear these voices harmonized, and to see the processions of contradas across town to visit their friends. The other day La Chiocciola (Snail) visited us, and they tossed their flags with those of the civetta and it was good.

I find it a little odd to say "us" because I'm not a contradaiola. Sure, I live here, but I was not born into this insanity of form and function that is a contrada senese. I have my scarf, but I don't feel quite comfortable enough to wear it, given that I know hardly anyone in the contrada outside my family. I want to fix this, and perhaps I will by going to the contrada dinner sometime.... At times, looking at the senesi, I can see how they could truly become a closed city, not in the sense of walls, but in the looks and lack of smiles they give turisti. Whether this is because the turisti are terrible (I've seen it-- many are) or whether they are so encompassed by their contrada, I think that sometimes students like us, who aren't truly turisti but not senesi either get lost in the middle. But perhaps this will get better in time-- even saying buona sera to fellow palazzo dwellers elicited a smile and a mildly confused look; perhaps being more outgoing is worth it.

But back to le prove-- they are essentially Palio lite. Worth it to go to one, but I don't know if I feel the need to go again.

Overall, the tension is heightening in the air-- the next few days should be interesting!

Advertisements on TV are wonderful

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDLFJvJekxo

Seriously, they make my day sometimes.

So this whole Palio thing

Is kind of insane. Today they assigned the horses to the contradas-- the ones racing are the giraffa, leocorno (unicorn!), bruco (silkworm), l'aquila (eagle), l'istrice (porcupine), torre, nicchio (shell), selva (forest/rhino), l'onda (wave/fish!), and drago. A point of explanation:

The contradas are like residential colleges if you were born/baptised into them, were the size of small towns, and were about 1000 years old. There is passion here beyond anything I've ever seen, where even the selection of horses is cause for tears (of joy or sorrow). I have become desensitized to the sound of drum cadences. Flags are normal, as are men in tights.
I love it-- the spectacle is exalting and exhilarating.

And the next few days should be good.

Firenze: Strike Edition

A few days ago my class took a trip to Florence, or Firenze, to look at stuff from the Renaissance. This being Florence, that ended up being quite a lot. We were going to take a reasonable bus at 8.50, but unfortunately there was a strike organized (to lengthen the weekend, so say our professors) starting at 8.30 so we instead had to meet at 7.50. Regardless, we took a 9.00 bus. Oh, Italy. How I will never understand your sense of timing.

We started at the Galleria degli Uffizi, home to several famous works of art including the Birth of Venus, which you will find on a bottle of Botticelli Olive Oil. Cultural value, indeed. After a lunch on the Piazza della Signoria, we continued on to visit a number of churches, including Santa Maria Novella, Santa Maria della Carmine,

Brancacci Chapel. If you took Nemerov's course, this should seem familiar.

and also some notable areas like Palazzo Pitti and il Ponte Vecchio, bling capital of the world.
did you think I was kidding?

Finally, we ended the day at the Duomo of Firenze, which is climbable. So team Glimmers, as we call ourselves thanks to the word choices of our professor, scaled the Duomo. Hard? Yes. Awesome? Absolutely.

I can see for miles and miles

Tomorrow I will have been here a week

Some thoughts from week one:

My course has started, and it is magical-- yes, we're still loosening up, and no, we don't speak as much Italian as I'd like (in that I kind of don't want to speak english, but I am in the extreme minority on this one), but there is something in Giuseppe Mazzotta's voice and musings that turns me into a sponge that attempts to stutter intelligent thoughts in a language I've really only used conversationally. There's something to be said for being intellectual in another language; given that I think differently in Italian I find myself discovering the use of DS over a year later, with my want to reference everything from Plato (Platone, in italiano) to John Locke. But I truly love it. Our classroom is in the Facoltà di Lettere, which is an old Psychiatric Hospital. Go figure.

I've found lots of new friends, as well, even though I know so many kids coming to Siena. My class, team Glimmers as we've called ourselves, has really bonded, and I think this will be a fabulous group of kids to spend time with for my duration here. We've been on adventures, hung out on the Piazza, and had conversations about life. In vino, verità.

Soccer/football/calcio is big here, and the people gather in all the bars in town to watch "La Partita." We did the same, knowing enough to stake out seats an hour before the game so we could see the azzurri fail against slovakia.

Our corner of the bar

I love the essence of just being, here, where life moves slower but somehow more chaotically. I love the little street signs that are centuries old, and recognizing the etymology of the street. I love seeing the Duomo from my desk window, and I love seeing vespas on ancient passageways that might lead to a 1000 year old fountain instead of a classroom. Siena is an onion that is slowly peeling for me, and I bask in the knowledge I receive from it.

Fontebranda: REbuilt in 1293.

All of this makes me want to work harder at Italian-- sometimes cashiers simply look at me or hear me speak a phrase before switching to English; and though they smile when I persevere and continue speaking la bella lingua, I want to be able to eliminate the americano from my tongue and let it speak freely the language of this land of planned strikes that create long weekends, nutella, vino, and a personality that one simply feels and acknowledges.

Coming soon: adventures in Florence, or why I have legs of steel

Siena: awesome despite the rain

I've been in Siena since Saturday, and now it's Tuesday. It's a wonderful city, but I know that I barely know it-- like a slug to salt, it recoils when touched by rain. I've only explored a little bit, and what I've seen is wonderful. Here I can understand about 90% of things said on the street, if I focus my ears. It's a cool feeling, that.

But first, my host family, which is awesome. I live about a block and a half from the Piazza del Campo, which is the center of the city. We are the Civetta contrada, which means Owl. Our colors are red and black striped with white. I am surrounded by owls. And pigeons, but that's another thing entirely.
The view from my desk:

I live on the very top floor of the building, with a terrazza off one end that is pretty much completely private. My room is small but perfect, with everything that I'd need. And my host family is wonderful and so welcoming.

I just wish it would be truly sunny out soon-- I want to explore the city, but don't really have a desire to if it's this ugly out. Tomorrow there's a clothing market in one of the piazzas, and there we'll see what the weather is like.
Some more views of Siena:

il Torre del Mangia, on the Piazza del Campo

La Piazza del Campo, taken while I was enjoying a Peach-mango gelato

More Milano:

So Italy is undergoing the equivalent of the Flood in terms of rian, lately, so if the lighting is off in the pictures, blame the weather.
These pictures are more from the center of Milano, with places like La Scala (no pictures allowed but beautiful!), and:

Il Duomo, from the outside

Il Duomo, from the Inside
La Galleria, the idealized form of a shopping area

I like Milano. It's a city that seems cold at times, but at others it's elegant and beautiful. The culture is very different from Siena, it seems, but I learned a lot in terms of how Italian cities are-- they aren't the metropolis that one thinks of immediately, but are more like an intricately folded box, with the heart waiting to be discovered.

Up next: Siena!

One Week down

Well, I've been in Italy a week. I'm settled in, here in Siena, with possibly the best house/host family ever. I live two blocks away from the Piazza Del Campo. But we'll get to that.

In the mean time, I've been spending quality time a Milano, sightseeing and absorbing the awesomeness of the country. And perhaps the craziness thereof.


Some things from the past week:

La Stresa, which is on il Lago Maggiore. The Island is "Isola Bella" or the Beautiful Island.
Castello Sforzesco. A castle. In the Middle of Milano.
Sant'Ambrogio. This is the courtyard, and inside there is a gold mosaic ceiling and a golden altar.

It seems that blogger will only let me upload so many at once, so another post will come soon, and then I can start waxing poetic about Siena.

Ciao!

The fine art of packing

So I've pretty much packed for my upcoming trip, figuring out how exactly to fit the roughly 500 pounds of books it seems like I need over there. Sartorially I'm going the route of sundresses, which makes packing infinitely easier.

It's hard trying to game five weeks of clothes, because this means I really pack for less and depend upon the deities of laundry and accessories to carry me through; I think I've got it down, but it has been a challenge.

In the meantime, I've been reading up on my Italian newspapers, particularly Corriere della Sera, and brushing up on the language. I have my passport back, after the Italian consulate decided to make us wait an interminable amount of time. I have a feeling this won't be the last time I get to deal with Italian bureaucracy, but as they say, con tempo tutto va bene.

Less than a week until I leave, and then the real adventure begins!