Picture Explanations from top to bottom:
1) Vespas, why?... because it's Italy
2) This is a picture of the center of my school or "sede" as we call it. It is located in the palazzo Giugni, a sixteenth century palace designed by the renowned Bartolomeo Ammannati (yes indeed, I go to school in a palace).
3) This is the entry way to the sede.
4) A picture of the Duomo, about two blocks from my school.
5) The fresco above the front entrance of the Duomo.
6) This church, called Santa Croce, with Dante standing formidably in the forefront is about a block from where I live. I pass by it everyday on my walk to school.
7) This is a tower right next to the Duomo constructed by Brunelleschi.
8) The front entrance to the Duomo.
9) Yet again, the front entrance to the Duomo. Pretty cool, no?
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It is Friday night, Friday afternoon in New Mexico. It has been exactly one week since I first stepped on that plane in Albuquerque and began my Florentine adventure. Things have changed since that first day. I’ve settled in a little bit. I had to buy toilet paper for the very first time. To improve my Italian I’ve taken up an experiment where I’ve tried to stop thinking in English, which means of course that I’m really not thinking very much at all. This hasn’t been as difficult as it sounds. Orientation has been a litany of infantilizing discussions conducted by the truly well meaning and genuinely nice heads of the school. Topics of discussion have included things like: Be sure you pay your rent on time, “every month”; Make sure no one looks at your pin number when you’re at an ATM; Don’t get drunk and fall off the Ponte Vecchio; And always brush your teeth before bedtime. (Okay, I made this last one up).
But seriously, beginning to learn to think in Italian, all the time, is the most difficult obstacle I face right now, as well as the one most pressing. I can understand the language fairly well but I have to develop my vocabulary. That right now is my current focus.
I start classes Monday, which means I have a weekend of sight seeing and debauchery ahead. On the subject of debauchery: Florence is like Disney World for adults. If you have the money the bars and clubs have the time. They cater to a clientele of largely drunk and loud American and English college party people. This is where my Italian has served me greatly. I can leave the crowded, loud, expensive bars with lakes of foreigners posturing for position and go to the smaller, more Italian bars, and work on my language skills with some locals.
I have been to one bar or more every night this week.
Now I know that some people who are reading this blog might be disappointed to hear this, to which I must respond that alcohol has been a social lubricant for thousands of years—the last thing I’m trying to do is reinvent the wheel here, alcohol has thus far proved a necessity to have any meaningful conversations with people beyond Americans and my roommate and my professors in Italian. Quite recently I enjoyed a Guinness in the company of an elderly Italian man named Antonio who upon leaving told me to call him, “Papa”… because everyone else does. My daytime conversations with everyday Italians are about nothing more than the size I want my gelato and stopping to ask for directions.
Both you know, and I know, that this whole bar hopping thing can not go on. Classes start on Monday and with that so do papers and midterms and essays and reading lists. Something has to give and I do have priorities. But for now, I’m going to go out and enjoy my weekend. We’ll talk again next week.
From Italy, “Buona Giornata!”
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