This past weekend I traveled with a few friends by train to Sorrento and the island of Capri nearby. To think I almost didn't go! It was by far the best experience I've had in Italy yet. Photos and words cannot describe how absolutely breathtaking the water is.

We had some interesting experiences with waiters while we were there. Our waiter for lunch randomly told us we were all feminists and explained why feminism will never work. He told Anjali she should know about the state of feminism in India. He then tried to explain that "When a man asks a woman to spend time, she think he want to go to bed. But I do not want to go to sleep." He wanted to ask Rachael to spend the evening with him, but we managed to pay the bill and leave before he got the chance. We went to an English pub for dinner for a change of pace, and I wanted to get something I'd never had before so I ordered a "Chips Butty" sandwich: fried potatoes on white bread:Our waiter told me that the beer I ordered would make me "feel like a bull", and proceeded to grope Rachael's pony tail every time passed our table, exclaiming "lovely, lovely!" Not to mention there was some Italian movie on the t.v. next to our table where a woman kept having sex with a poltergeist--not easy to ignore while you're trying to make conversation.The next day in Capri, however, more than made up for the awkward experiences in Sorrento. We started off by taking the 10 Euro motor boat to the Blue Grotto. When we got there, we saw tons of smaller row boats just floating outside the cave, waiting to pick people up and take them in. We then transferred from our larger motor boat to a small row boat in groups of four, rowed over to a different boat to pay the 9 Euro for the entrance to the cave, and sat outside the three-foot wide entrance until the waves died down and our boatman pulled us in on a chain attached to the wall. Once inside, the sight was unbelievable. The water literally glows a neon blue color from below: "This is due to another opening to the grotto, completely submerged, and the limestone bottom. It allows in sunlight to truly light the water from below" (wikipedia). Everything inside is pitch black except for the breathtaking glow of the water.

Then some of the boatmen start singing in Italian, which echoes off the walls and adds to the overall experience. Once out of the Grotto we took the boat back to Capri and had lunch next to the chairlift (thanks to a recommendation from Rick Steves).

Four of us then paid about 7 Euro to take a chair lift up to the top of Annacapri. On the ride up, I remember thinking "This probably won't be worth the money. It'll probably just be similar to Cinque Terre: a lot of pretty buildings surronding by nice cliffs and coastlines, and that's it." But when we got to the top, all four of us were speechless. The water by itself was stunning. You can't get a more perfect definition of blue than the water there:

So we spent a good 25 minutes up there just saying "wow" over and over again and taking a ton of pictures from different angles. Then we headed back down and waited an hour and 15 minutes for the bus (which never came), took the fenicular down to Capri, took the motor boat back to Sorrento and took the bus back to our hotel. I feel like I should be a star in "Planes, Trains and Automobiles."

It's taken me two days to try and complete this post so I'm going to cut it off here. Hopefully soon I'll be willing to write more about my personal experiences at home and dealing with culture shock. No promises, though.

Sunday I took a group trip into Cinque Terre, the five towns that hug the northwest coast of Italy. It was beautiful, but exhausting. I find it interesting that some of the most beautiful locations in the world are mostly beautiful because of the buildings.

I wish I had more to write about the history or culture of Cinque Terre, but the tour guide we paid for wasn't much of a guide. He led us on the path and got us onto the ferry, but didn't tell us anything about the area. The 38 Euro we all paid for the day trip seemed not to be worth it, but we did get a free 3 hour train ride both ways and entrance to the National Park.

Yesterday morning I dropped my perfume onto the marble floor; it shattered and bits of broken glass and Clinque perfume went everywhere. Rosanna simply got a broom and a cloth and started cleaning up after me. Then I got on the bus packed like a sardine can, and had nowhere to hold onto (which, if you've ever taken public transportation in Italy, you know is essential) so I wrapped my hand around a bar next to the door. When we stopped at the next stop, the door tried to open but couldn't because my hand was in the way! The person waiting outside had to go to another door while I cursed out loud and tried to pull my hand out. The rest of the day went pretty much like that.

The days are getting long for me. I'm not exactly homesick; I don't want to go home yet. But I find I have to force myself to go out at night and explore the city, or make plans to travel on the weekend. I always enjoy myself when I do, but it is something I have to push myself into doing. Next weekend I'm going to Sorrento and Capri with a few girls from Ursinus, and I'm actually looking forward to that. When we first got here I thought I'd be able to beat the usual symptoms of culture shock. Although I am doing better than the textbook definition of culture shock, I'm still not symptom-less. I'm confident that by the end of the three months I'll be telling a different story.

Parlei, Parlez?

Since I've been in Italy, my capacity for speaking French has come rushing back. I'll reach for a French word more often than the word in English. It's kind of cool, but also kind of sad. I loved learning and speaking french in high school; Madame Beard was probably my favorite teacher. But I dropped French second semester freshman year of college because the professor was unbearable. I regret dropping it, not only because it means I still have to make up my language requirement, but also because I've lost that ability and passion for French. But being in Italy and learning Italian has made me realize how much I enjoyed learning a new language and even moreso speaking it.

With each passing year that I've been at college, I've felt more and more incompetent compared to the people around me. At least as far as worldly knowledge goes. Geography, politics, literature, science... I know so little about so many different things. I'm not trying to say I'm stupid or anything, just that I feel like I can't talk about as much as other kids my age. But one thing I enjoy and I think I'm moderately good at is memorizing things. And language is something I especially enjoy memorizing. I've only been here two weeks and already I can have a somewhat decent conversation with my host mother, Rosanna. I'm starting to think I'd like to take up French again and possibly pursue a career in language. Translator, teacher, tour guide... there's a high job demand for people who are multi-lingual, right?

I heard that English is the hardest language to learn. In French or Italian, when you have to learn the masculine and feminine and then the different agreements you think "How can this be easier than English?" But those languages at least make sense, they're methodical. English is completely random, I think. The word for "grapefruit" in Italian is "arancia rossa", which literally means "red orange". That makes sense! It's actually an orange that's red. "Grapefruit" on the otherhand makes no sense. It's not anything like grapes. Italian makes the most sense of any language I've learned. I love the pronunciation. But French holds a soft spot in my heart because it was my first love, and it will always be more beautiful to me.

Arno tour

CAPA advertised a classic river boat tour of the Arno this week, so I went with a few friends last night after school let out. I forget the name of it, but we went in the same boat they used during the Roman period to drag sand from the bottom of the river to use in making the buildings in Florence. We set out around 6:45 P.M., just as the sun was setting; it was the perfect time of day to be on the water at the Ponte Vecchio.

This is the Uffizi Gallery, a large art museum in Florence. "Uffizi" in Italian means "offices." This building used to be the offices for the Medici family. It was nice to see it from the water, since we walk past it almost every day.

The square windows with the grates covering them run along the Medici corridors which run from the Uffizi, over the Ponte Vecchio and to the Boboli Gardens. The Medici family had these corridors built so they could travel safely around the city in tumultuous times.

These are the only remaining original houses on the Arno next to the Ponte Vecchio; the rest were destroyed in the bombings of WWII.

I forget the name of this tower, but it stands in "Piazza Purgato" where they used to bury children (hence the name). This can only be seen from the Arno because of the buildings surrounding it on three sides.
These are the only remaining original houses along the Arno next to the Ponte Vecchio; the others were destroyed in the bombings of WWII.

This little guy was looking down over the side of the bridge as we went under. Cosimo de Medici wanted the animals on this bridge to be a ram because he was a Capricorn. As you can see, this is a little creepy and/or scary. Legend has it that the Ram on the East side of the bridge is angry and upset because he can see the flood coming, whereas the one on the other side is more at peace because he can't. The angry one was definitely more difficult to pass under without getting the heebie-jeebies.

I apologize for the crappy formatting. As you can tell I'm new to blogger so I'm still getting the hang of things. And it's time for me to head on home for the day, so I'm just going to post this in its incomplete state.

Getting started

Simply posting this first entry to get the blog up and running. Will write more when I have something significant to say.