I showed up to Italy with no Italian under my belt. Brilliant, right? Pre-departure Katie saw no problem with this, as the program specifically stated that there was no language pre-requisite AND neither Lindsay nor Alison made mention of any kind of language intensity. Of course, as soon as I met the other people in my program, it dawned on me that I was clearly the only person who had not taken any kind of preparations in the way of learning Italian. I am also the only person who did not bring a gift for my host family as well as not bringing any of my paper work in order to obtain a permit of residency. I did, however, bring school supplies, so I have that going for me. I realize that I've only been here for 5 days and I certainly can't be expected to have the language down to a science. I know the important words like "grazie" and "basta" and a barage of other vocabulary words that Margherita has given me during our lessons. I even ordered my own gelato tonight, even though it took Jeanie several times of saying very very slowly the exact words that I needed in order to obtain said gelato. It was a roaring, strawberry success.
But after 5 days of nodding my head and smiling like an idiot, I finally found the appropriate time to take matters into my own hands. Only one day of intensive Italian class had not taught me the only phrase I really felt my host family needed to understand: "I am tired." This was all it took to make Margherita understand that I didn't want to play cards and watch Winx and watch her number all of the bookshelves. Apparently, everyone knows that if someone is tired, that someone should be left alone. After I looked up the phrase in my ancient 1957 edition of Berlitz's Italian American dictionary, I paced about my room, muttering it to myself and making sure it sounded correct. According to the pronunciation guide, it did. So when the time was right and I could see Margherita and Arianna winding up for a second episode of Winx while pulling out the couch bed, I very sternly said to Margherita, "Sono stancana." I have no idea if that is conjugated or if the tense makes sense but she immediately understood and kindly wished me good night. Yes.
Lesson? Understand your priorities and then act accordingly. Especially when you are in a foreign country and your 7 and 4 year old host siblings just want to play with your I-Pod and dance all night.
This is meant to be a travel blog! So why didn't I immediately tell you about the flight over here and staying in the Agritourismo in Farfa or my initial impressions of Italy? Because I am tired. And being 6 hours ahead of everyone does not help at all, because I end up staying up kind of late so that I can catch all the people I want to talk to. The thing I do for you people. More details will come, I promise, and then you all will finally be able to live vicariously through me. Get excited!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
I'm Not Taking Anything to Italy.
Just kidding! But I am super tempted to do so. It would just be so much easier, you know? Do you think that's what Julia Roberts does in "Eat, Pray, Love"? I'm not going to see it, and I'm certainly not going to read it, so one of you is going to have to tell me how much she takes with her. Yes, I am all packed up, but I would very much like to down size my luggage. I have to keep in mind that I am lugging this stuff around all by myself, unless of course I befriend a nice stranger on the plane. That is my plan, by the way. For the record, I have never:
a.) been out of the country
or
b.) flown on a plane by myself.
Tomorrow I'm flying out of the country by myself! Max asked me if I'm going to be one of those dumb people who asks questions instead of just reading the board at the airport. First I got huffy and asked him why he always makes me sound like a moron. Then I said yes, of course I'm going to stop and ask questions. I am going to find people on my flight to Charlotte who are also flying to Rome. And then I will mercilessly stalk them until I am through customs.
I'm watching Katy Perry perform on Letterman. They just zoomed in and showed a close up of her face. She must be SO embarrassed about all that acne she has-good thing she's a ProActiv representative! "We're talking about zits here, people!" Shut it, Perry.
So. You're excited for me, right? I don't demand excitement or even remote interest, but it would be much appreciated. Humor me, you know? I have most enjoyed receiving advice from people who have either:
-been to Italy
-heard of Italy
-have a friend who went to Italy
-Italian blood
Most common questions/statements:
Q: So, do you know Italian?
Me: No.
Q: Uhhh Ohhh!! What are you going to do?
Me: Come home, probably.
Q: Have you seen Taken?
Me: Yes.
Q: Like, is that going to happen to you?
Me: I hope so.
Q: Did you know that Italian men are all sleezy and creepy?
Me: Are they really? Oh, that's great news.
Q: Are you going to come back married?
Me: I'm already married.
A personal favorite moment:
A few weeks ago I went to the Ohio Building (for work purposes, not to buy a breakfast sandwich) and after I completed my assigned task, I made my way up to the 8th floor to get my parking stub stamped. The woman behind the counter, the one who has the power to save me a dollar on parking, inquired about school and when I am going back. I said "I'm never going back! I'm going to Italy!" or something. Her response: "Ooooh, you gon' bring back a nice, rich I-talian man!"
And what if I do? Like, we're not even romantically involved. I literally just gate check a wealthy Italian man who wears nice shoes and smells of leather and tomato sauce. I would immediately march back to the 8th floor, Rich Italian Man in tow (toe?), and proudly present him. And at that point, I'd probably just leave him there.
I need to go get rid of ~1.5 pounds from my luggage before I feel any kind of confidence in taking that thing with me.
And if I find a rich Italian man, I'll let you know.
a.) been out of the country
or
b.) flown on a plane by myself.
Tomorrow I'm flying out of the country by myself! Max asked me if I'm going to be one of those dumb people who asks questions instead of just reading the board at the airport. First I got huffy and asked him why he always makes me sound like a moron. Then I said yes, of course I'm going to stop and ask questions. I am going to find people on my flight to Charlotte who are also flying to Rome. And then I will mercilessly stalk them until I am through customs.
I'm watching Katy Perry perform on Letterman. They just zoomed in and showed a close up of her face. She must be SO embarrassed about all that acne she has-good thing she's a ProActiv representative! "We're talking about zits here, people!" Shut it, Perry.
So. You're excited for me, right? I don't demand excitement or even remote interest, but it would be much appreciated. Humor me, you know? I have most enjoyed receiving advice from people who have either:
-been to Italy
-heard of Italy
-have a friend who went to Italy
-Italian blood
Most common questions/statements:
Q: So, do you know Italian?
Me: No.
Q: Uhhh Ohhh!! What are you going to do?
Me: Come home, probably.
Q: Have you seen Taken?
Me: Yes.
Q: Like, is that going to happen to you?
Me: I hope so.
Q: Did you know that Italian men are all sleezy and creepy?
Me: Are they really? Oh, that's great news.
Q: Are you going to come back married?
Me: I'm already married.
A personal favorite moment:
A few weeks ago I went to the Ohio Building (for work purposes, not to buy a breakfast sandwich) and after I completed my assigned task, I made my way up to the 8th floor to get my parking stub stamped. The woman behind the counter, the one who has the power to save me a dollar on parking, inquired about school and when I am going back. I said "I'm never going back! I'm going to Italy!" or something. Her response: "Ooooh, you gon' bring back a nice, rich I-talian man!"
And what if I do? Like, we're not even romantically involved. I literally just gate check a wealthy Italian man who wears nice shoes and smells of leather and tomato sauce. I would immediately march back to the 8th floor, Rich Italian Man in tow (toe?), and proudly present him. And at that point, I'd probably just leave him there.
I need to go get rid of ~1.5 pounds from my luggage before I feel any kind of confidence in taking that thing with me.
And if I find a rich Italian man, I'll let you know.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
I'm Still in Ohio.
I haven't left yet. The leaving does not happen until next Wednesday, the 25th, so this isn't really a travel blog yet. I am, however, in southern Ohio which is essentially a different state. Are you from northeast Ohio and then immediately become confused when you drive south of Columbus? Exactly. So this just might be an official travel blog.
Right, so I'm going to Italy. Did you pick up on that from the title of my blog? Or did you pick up on that on account of me telling everybody all the time? Either way, I am currently feeling overly ready and prepared to leave. As I told my mom earlier today, it is nothing personal, I just need to get out of here. Fortunately, she knew exactly what I meant, and then reminded me that I should probably get more euros. Way to go, mom-always on the look out.
I love when people hear that I am going to Italy and then ask what my major is. Upon my response, ("English") it becomes apparent that they are trying to hold back either laughter or snide comments. Haha, I get it. I'm going to another country to study a language I already speak. Isn't that so funny? It's even funnier when people make a subsequent comment about that unintended irony, as though I wasn't aware of it already. I will actually be working on my burgeoning art historian spirit, which is way exciting. Free admission to all the museums in Florence? Yes, please. Book restoration and becoming a Book Doctor? Check and check.
Am I going to gain weight? Probably. And I hope that you all make a point of getting together and texting and BBMing and messaging just to say, "My God, Katie's not missing any meals." Because you will be right! I won't be missing ANY meals. I am going to grow chubby and content ("like Chester"-LL) and my winter weight will all be packed on for the Ohio weather that will greet me in December. Also, I will be turning 21 while in Italy. No, that does not suck for me. No, it does not make me mad that I will be turning 21 while in another country. The amount of people who have been upset by this is unreal. Truth be told, I will be drinking before then anyway. Come to think of it, I have already had my first beer. Please, do not pity me on account of turning 21 while in Italy. Odds are, I will have a fantastic time anyway.
I also plan on getting to Bologna on September 2 to see Arcade Fire. It's a 3 hour drive from Siena to Bologna. This will be an adventure.
Find me in Ohio sometime over the next week. After that, no more texting and same time zone-age.
Love and Dreams of Spaghetti,
Katie
Right, so I'm going to Italy. Did you pick up on that from the title of my blog? Or did you pick up on that on account of me telling everybody all the time? Either way, I am currently feeling overly ready and prepared to leave. As I told my mom earlier today, it is nothing personal, I just need to get out of here. Fortunately, she knew exactly what I meant, and then reminded me that I should probably get more euros. Way to go, mom-always on the look out.
I love when people hear that I am going to Italy and then ask what my major is. Upon my response, ("English") it becomes apparent that they are trying to hold back either laughter or snide comments. Haha, I get it. I'm going to another country to study a language I already speak. Isn't that so funny? It's even funnier when people make a subsequent comment about that unintended irony, as though I wasn't aware of it already. I will actually be working on my burgeoning art historian spirit, which is way exciting. Free admission to all the museums in Florence? Yes, please. Book restoration and becoming a Book Doctor? Check and check.
Am I going to gain weight? Probably. And I hope that you all make a point of getting together and texting and BBMing and messaging just to say, "My God, Katie's not missing any meals." Because you will be right! I won't be missing ANY meals. I am going to grow chubby and content ("like Chester"-LL) and my winter weight will all be packed on for the Ohio weather that will greet me in December. Also, I will be turning 21 while in Italy. No, that does not suck for me. No, it does not make me mad that I will be turning 21 while in another country. The amount of people who have been upset by this is unreal. Truth be told, I will be drinking before then anyway. Come to think of it, I have already had my first beer. Please, do not pity me on account of turning 21 while in Italy. Odds are, I will have a fantastic time anyway.
I also plan on getting to Bologna on September 2 to see Arcade Fire. It's a 3 hour drive from Siena to Bologna. This will be an adventure.
Find me in Ohio sometime over the next week. After that, no more texting and same time zone-age.
Love and Dreams of Spaghetti,
Katie
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