A Saturday Stroll in Lucca

We finally were able to go to Lucca today, after the two thwarted attempts last weekend. It was about a one hour train ride from Florence to Lucca, and we spent the majority of the day there. When we got there Bob gave us a tour of the three churches in town: St. Zita's, St. Michael's, and St. Martin's. Once again, I was awed by the whirlwind of beauty in these ancient and holy places. St. Zita's body was in a glass case, just like St. Clare's, as she is another of the incorruptibles. She was not covered in wax though, so it felt kind of morbid to look at her.

St. Martin's church houses a crucifix that has a legend behind it. Legend has it that sometime in the 13th century a carved crucifix that was made by Nicodemus just after Christ's crucifixion was being carried by wild oxen from Jerusalem to a destination in Italy. The oxen had no driver, as there was dispute as to which city should house the crucifix. So those in charge left it up to chance, saying that whatever city the oxen arrived in first would be the city to house the crucifix. The oxen arrived in Lucca, and there was great celebration. Lucca became a site of religious significance for pilgrimages. Later, scientific dating was done on the crucifix, and it was found that it was made in the 11th century instead of at the crucifixion of Christ. I think I prefer the legend to the scientific evidence.

In Lucca there were lots of families with small children riding bikes and just strolling around the city. Some of the kids were wearing costumes, and they were throwing confetti everywhere. The historic center of Lucca is completely surrounded by original city walls. You can go on top of these walls and walk around the entire city. There is a rode on top of the walls, but vehicles cannot drive on it. There is also lots of green space and a few playgrounds for the children. It was really a nice place just to take a leisurely stroll and soak in the sun. If I have kids someday, I think it would be so much fun to bring them to this place.

Giorno Bellisimo (Beautiful Day)

Today the entire group boarded a tour bus that Bob hired just for our group at 7:30 a.m. to head for Assisi. We arrived in Assisi at around 10:00 a.m. and met our guide, Giuseppe. Bob has gotten to know all of the talented tour guides personally over the years, so he just calls them ahead of time and sets up a group tour. Giuseppe is a middle-aged man who lives in the country just outside of Assisi. He speaks English very well and has lived in Italy all his life. He was a great tour guide for our group. Everything he told us was very interesting, and he kept our attention very well by telling jokes. He told us one such joke when he was trying to describe how old everything in Assisi was and how much of what is there is the original architecture and art. He said it was very unlike Elizabeth Taylor's face, which is all new.

We toured the Basilicas di San Francesco (St. Francis) and Santa Chiara (St. Clare) with Giuseppe before splitting up. Both basilicas are built above the tomb of their namesake saints. You can go downstairs and view the tombs. St. Clare's body is uncorrupted, and she is inside a glass case. They covered her body with wax a few years ago, so she doesn't really look real, but it is her real body. St. Francis is enclosed in a stone coffin. The Basilica of San Francesco is the more beautiful of the two, in my opinion. It is kind of ironic, because St. Francis preached living a simple life unhindered by materials, and the basilica built to honor him is probably one of the most fancy and expensive of its era. And today so much money is made through attracting tourists to the basilica and selling them souvenirs. Perhaps that is why St. Francis is in a stone coffin--they don't want the tourists to see him rolling in his grave.

The basilica of St. Francis has a few very interesting stories behind it. When it was being built, the pope called in architects from France to plan it. This is because St. Francis' name means Frenchman, and his mother was from France. The style they used for the basilica was the Gothic style, so the Basilica di San Francesco became the first Gothic style church in Italy. A lot of blue paint is used in the frescos in the church, and this is all created with the pigment lapis lazuli. This was a hugely expensive pigment at the time that had to be shipped to Italy from Afghanistan. It actually took several years just to get the pigment, but the results are stunning. I was not allowed to take pictures inside, otherwise I would show you. But the ceilings in the upper basilica look just like a night sky, and there are gold stars painted on it. The beauty of it just can't be described in words. Another interesting story about the basilica occurred in WWII. There are the basement, lower, and upper levels to the basilica, and, unknown to most people at the time of WWII, there is also a space between the lower and upper levels. So during WWII, all of the Jews in Assisi hid in this space until townspeople could furnish them with fake IDs and help them leave the city. One Nazi officer who was familiar with Assisi realized what they were doing, but he kept his mouth shut. There is a movie about this event called Assisi Underground. If you watch it, let me know how it is, because I want to see it now.

After the tour of the churches, the group split up and we all went to find places to eat lunch. The majority of the group ended up together in a very quaint sit-down restaurant. I ordered ravioli, and it was, as all the food here is, delicious. I also had a quarter-liter of red wine for only two Euros. It will be so different when I get back to America and can't order wine at fancy restaurants at such a bargain. After lunch I hiked up the hill with Eldon and Carla and saw an old castle, with a sweet view! Then we were going to go to mass at the Basilica di San Francesco at 2:00, but we found out the next mass was at 5:00. We went down to the tomb area to pray for a bit, which I was glad that we got to do. I often feel almost guilty when we just go into churches, look at the art, then leave without praying. They were built for the purpose of prayer, so I try to remember that while I am in them.

I also bought a lot of gifts and souvenirs at the basilica, but I can't talk about most of them because some of you who read this will be receiving a gift. I did buy one thing for myself though. It is a large, Franciscan tau crucifix made out of olive wood, with Jesus made out of a silver metal. It was kind of a splurge, but I just thought it would be so awesome to have it in my house some day. Every time I look at it I will remember my time in Italy and my visit to Assisi. Well, that's all for now. Tomorrow I head to Lucca, so there will be more to come.

The Next Chapter

Last night I stayed up on my computer until 1:00 a.m., and this time I was not on facebook. I decided to look into how to become a teacher of English as a foreign language (EFL). This is something that I have been interested in for a while, and working in the writing center last semester really confirmed this interest. I love the satisfaction that comes with helping people express their ideas and communicate with one another. I also love learning about other cultures and travelling. Italy has been a great experience so far, and I would love to have more experiences like this one. Given these interests and passions, teaching EFL seems like the perfect fit for me. I have mentioned to a few people that I would eventually like to teach at the university level, but there are also so many opportunities for teaching in elementary and high schools abroad. Right now it just seems like it would be so much fun to experience different cultures while teaching English abroad. Then when I get to a point in my life when I want to settle down in one place, I could pursue a more permanent placement in a university setting.

I discovered a lot about getting TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) certified during my Internet search last night. I learned that the certification is not actually a uniform thing internationally and that there can be many scams where the promised certificate really doesn't mean anything. After looking into things a bit, I found that there are many programs that are certified to administer a certification test through Cambridge University, and this test, called CERTA, is internationally recognized. Most programs that prepare you for the CERTA are about a month long, and they are offered in countries all around the world. I just think it would be so awesome to take the course in Spain, since I have a decent amount of exposure to the Spanish language. I was thinking about trying to take the course right away when I was done with my program in Italy, but I couldn't find anything that had dates that matched up.

Another option for becoming a teacher of EFL is to get a graduate degree in TEFL from an actual university. The programs tend to be very intensive, such as one in Seattle that allows you to earn a certificate along with 12 graduate level credits in one month during the summer. The website promises that you will be in class from 9-3 each day and will have six hours of homework each night, including weekends. While this program doesn't actually give you a degree, it does give you a certification, and the graduate credits would be applicable if you ever decided to earn your degree. I do not think the CERTA courses that I was looking into actually offered college credit with the certification, so that may be something to look into.

I don't really know what I'm going to do yet. I will probably try to talk to someone who teaches EFL at the university level to see how they went about doing it. I am thinking about possibly enrolling in a certification course for this coming summer. This is something that I am really excited about, and I think I will be good at it. I have spent a lot of time thinking about what I want to do after college, and I know that I want to do something that I am passionate about, and I do not want to have a career that consumes my entire life. Teaching EFL seems to be something that will combine my passions while still allowing me to have time for other things besides work. Also, I have come to realize that I am not ready to settle down quite yet, and teaching EFL would give me some time to travel and explore. On the flip side, it is also a career that would be very compatible with settling down and having a family someday, God willing. So I will see where this new adventure takes me. I am just very excited about it right now, and I wanted to share that excitement with all of you faithful blog readers.

Oh, and in case you're wondering about what I'm doing in Italy besides surfing the net for TEFL programs, I had art class today and went to the cathedral of Santa Maria Novella in Florence. It was another truly beautiful cathedral. I want to go back there for mass sometime, so that I have some time for prayer and reflection, instead of listening to my art teacher dissect every art piece to death. She is kind of an annoying teacher, and, although I am learning a lot about art from her, it would be nice to just enjoy the art for its aesthetic appeal sometimes. Plus she always gets mad at us for not knowing the answers to her questions, which gets frustrating for me because I am really trying to pay attention and learn the information, but it is just very difficult. I guess art history is just not my subject. Tomorrow morning we get on a bus to go to Assisi at 7:30 a.m. I am really looking forward to this visit. The weather is supposed to be great, and I have heard that Assisi is beautiful!

Who let the dogs out?

I went running earlier today, and I had an interesting experience with dogs. At one point I was taking a break from running at a scenic overlook, sitting on top of a fire hydrant (they have flat tops here, don't worry) just minding my own business when two dogs came seemingly out of no where. They must have sensed an invasion on their urinary territory (the fire hydrant). They were cute little dogs, well groomed and everything, and they were friendly, so I wasn't worried. The problem was I wanted to keep running, and they wanted to follow me. The roads are very narrow here, and the dogs were walking in the middle. There is really no room to get off to the side, considering that many of the streets are walled in, so I was scared that the dogs were going to get hit by a car. While I was in the process of trying to tell these dogs to go home in Italian by saying, "No, no, casa, no," an older man came by also walking a dog. I thought perhaps the dogs were his, because he was whistling and saying something to them. So I sent the dogs to go with him. Only after doing this did I realize that the dogs were not his. He gave me a look and asked something in Italian. I think he said, "Are these your dogs?" I just waved and kept running. I don't know what the man ended up doing with the dogs, but at least I got rid of them.

Later, when I was further out in the country I found a little path that went into the woods from the roadside. I followed it for a ways, only to find that it led to someone's villa. The view was amazing though, so I was just sitting on a rock, taking it in, when I had another dog encounter. This time it was a cute little beagle, also very well-groomed and friendly. I petted him for a little bit, but then I wanted to continue my run. I went back out to the road, and, once again, the dog followed. Luckily, this one hung back when I started running, but passing cars were starting to give me dirty looks. Obviously they thought the dog was mine and I was allowing him to run in the middle of the street. I don't know what it was today...maybe my scent is very attractive to dogs when I sweat or something.

On another note, I also had history class today. We walked around Florence with our teacher, Luciana, as a guide. She is such a fun teacher. Her first language was German, her second Italian, and English came somewhere after that. I think she has also lived in the Middle East for a period of time. Many times she is unsure how to say something, and she will gesture and say words in all different languages until we figure out the English word. If we don't get it, she just says, "Well, okay, you already know." She is so excited about everything that she shows us, so that makes the class fun. Today we looked at a couple little chapels, the old tower houses, the old Roman city walls, Dante's house, and the inside of a large home from the 13th century. Luciana is a great guide because she takes us to the nooks and crannies that aren't usually explored by tourists.

Shop till you drop

Well, today was shaping up to be a pretty fine day up until a few minutes ago. Earlier I went into Florence with Ashley and the guys. We were going to buy tickets to the Milan-Naples soccer game that is set to take place in Florence tomorrow, but we were denied. The ticket salesman said they were only selling tickets to Tuscany residents for this game because of the danger of riots breaking out between fans. Italians follow their soccer passionately, apparently. Hopefully I will still get to go to a game of a little lower profile. I've heard it's something worth experiencing. So after the disappointing soccer ticket quest, Ashley and I split from the guys and did some serious shopping. The sales in Italy are government regulated and only occur in January and June, so we only have four days left to get the good deals. Ashley finally found the leather boots she was looking for at the great price of 19 Euro, and I bought my galoshes and an umbrella. Now I'm just waiting for it to rain again so I can use them. But hopefully we'll get through the weekend without rain so we can go on our field trips to Assisi and Lucca.

Ashley and I also experienced our first trip to an Italian McDonald's today. I was craving fish big time, as some of you know I sometimes do, so I had a fish sandwich. It's not too much different than the McDonald's in the U.S., but they have curly fries, they don't put ice in your drinks, you can order wine and beer, there's no drive-up, it's decorated nicer, the people working are friendly and dressed up, and it costs a lot more. They also have a separate section for the McCafe, which is like a coffee shop, and they have all different types of coffee and fresh baked goods. So it is a bit higher class than American fast food, but it is the lowest class food you can buy here. McDonald's is the only fast food chain in Florence, and they had to fight hard to be let in here. I think there are three or four in the entire city, with two of them being near the train station so all the foreigners can fill their grease cravings.

Everyday is Men's Day

Today is another rainy day in Florence. I may go into town this afternoon to look for a cute umbrella and rain boots, if the rain lets up long enough for me to do so. As long as I'm going to be out in the rain, I might as well do it the Italian way: in style. Other than that, I don't really foresee anything else happening today other than a bit of homework and perhaps running, so I'm going to blog about something that's been on my mind for a while, the rights of women in Italy.

Italy is an industrious, developed nation, so many Americans may assume that in their culture men and women would have mostly equal opportunities, like in America. I say mostly because I know that not everything is perfectly equal in America, but that is another issue for another time. Since being here I have noticed that Italian women have a high dependency on men, and they do not enjoy as many of the same privileges as men. I have yet to see an Italian woman running or biking, whereas I see many men enjoying these activities. When I was skiing, there were many more men than women on the slopes, and the few women who were there came with groups of men. There are times that I feel that Italian women look at us American women disapprovingly when we are seen exercising or doing things on our own. I have also discussed hunting with a front desk attendant at my hotel, Simone, who lives in the country and enjoys hunting for wild boars and pheasants. When I told him that I hunt, he thought that was just crazy. In Italy a woman would never go hunting, as it is strictly a man's sport here.

To attempt take this observation beyond the level of sports, I did look into prime minister Berlusconi's council, and I was glad to see that several women serve as ministers on his council. I can't really comment on the fact that men hold the great majority, because the same is true in America, with women having only three of the 15 seats on Obama's newly appointed cabinet. It seems that women have equal opportunity to go to university here, as they do in the U.S., and it also seems that women are equally eligible for professional careers. However, it may be the uneducated women who experience more effects of societal inequality, as it is a proven fact that the unemployment rates, which are currently high in Italy, are highest among women and young people.

Perhaps I am making a mountain out of a mole hill, but it is certain that something in the way women are treated here is different that in the U.S. Whether it is a good, bad, or neutral phenomenon, I do not know. Personally, I am thankful to be an American because some of the activities that I enjoy doing most are things that are frowned upon for women to do in Italian society. Meanwhile, while trying to maintain a low profile, I will continue to be the independent American woman that I am regardless to whether the women scoff at me and the men stare at me.

What I am really looking forward to is Women's Day on March 8, which is a holiday for all European nations to show appreciation to their women. When Bob was telling us about this holiday someone asked if their was a Men's Day too, and he replied by saying, "Everyday is Men's Day in Italy." That pretty much says in a few words what I've been trying to say in all of these paragraphs.

Like Thunder and Lightning

Let me just preface this blog entry by saying that today was the best day of my life so far! And I'm not a person who goes around saying things like that everyday. So I am going to write everything down in chronological order so I never ever forget it. Bear with me here, because many truly amazing things happened to me today.

Today I went skiing in Abetone, a small ski town about two hours north of Florence by bus. I started by leaving my hotel at 5:45 a.m. to catch the bus to the Florence train station, where I would catch the bus leaving for Abetone at 7:10. I got to the station around 6:30 a.m., and it was still dark outside, so I went into a cafe and had a donut. During this time I became very frustrated with the Americans I was seeing, and I was embarrassed to share a nationality with them. First of all I saw three drunk American girls walking into their apartment, staggering and slurring their words. It was just a pathetic image, and I hope they don't think they are safe wandering drunk around a foreign city at night. When I got into the cafe, I sat down at a table to read a book, only to be distracted, in a negative fashion, by two American boys (they don't deserve the title of men, although they were definitely in their 20s). They were both drinking beer at 6:30 in the morning, and they were completely wasted. Although the Italians do drink more than Americans, I have never seen an Italian drunk in public. These boys were playing a came where they spun a quarter on the table and tried to hit the other's knuckles. Half the time the quarter would fly off the table and practically hit someone who was sitting at a table across the room just trying to eat his/her breakfast. They were also extremely loud in their yelling and carousing. One time their quarter went other my table, and I kicked it back to them and pretended like I didn't speak English. I didn't want to associate with them in any way!

Finally at 7:00 a.m. I left my fellow Americans behind to board the bus. There were two other American guys on the bus who seemed to be as confused about things as I was, so that was sort of comforting. And, props to them, they were not drunk. At about 9:00 a.m. we arrived at Abetone, and I got off the bus. I was surprised at how different the ski areas are here than in America. The entire town is devoted to the ski area, and there are many private shops that rent out skis and sell ski tickets. You have to go to separate shops for rentals and tickets. So I spent the first half hour or so just wandering around the town trying figure everything out. Since Abetone is a smaller ski town, nobody there speaks English. My Italian is still very limited, so that added to the challenge. At the rental shop, the old man who was working just started laughing and speaking in rapid Italian when I asked him if he spoke English. He was a character in and of himself, more about that to come. After getting my rentals I wandered a bit more trying to find where to buy a lift ticket. Somewhere in this time I ran into the American guys from the bus. They were just as lost as me, trying to find where to get on the ski lift, so I talked to them for a bit. But they turned out to be ivy-league assholes, pardon my French. They were from Syracuse, and when I asked what state that was in they looked at me like I was from the moon. I'm sorry to burst your bubble guys, but the whole world doesn't revolve around your hoity-toity private school that you probably go to on daddy's dollar. I think I prefer Italian men by far.

So anyway, after a bit more ordeal, I finally found my way onto the slopes and began skiing. The pistes were absolutely heavenly today. There had been about a foot of fresh snow last night, so I experienced my first time skiing in real powder. The technique is much different than skiing on the icy slopes in Minnesota. On my second or third time up the lift I rode up with an Italian man who was in line by himself. He did not speak English, but he did speak a bit of Spanish, so we spoke in Spanish. I am surprised at how well I can actually carry on a conversation in Spanish when necessity calls for it. I've used my Spanish more here than I have ever before. On the way up the ski lift with by new Italian friend, Dario, we talked about all sorts of things. He proceeded to tell be that my "occi" (eyes) are "bellisimi" (beautiful). This little compliment went straight to my heart. My uniquely colored eyes have always been one of my vanities, and I am always greatly flattered when someone notices them. When we got off the lift Dario offered to let me ski with his group for the day. I agreed, why not? So I met Alexandro and his son Jo-Jo. Alexandra and Dario were both middle-aged, although I assume Dario was the younger of the two (he was 39). Jo-Jo was 16, and he spoke almost fluent English. He informed me that he had been taking English lessons since he was five years old, which he said was quite common for Italian youth in schools now. That may be promising for visits in coming years. So Jo-Jo acted as sort of an interpreter between me and the rest of the group, which got a bit awkward because Dario was flirting with me unabashedly, like any Italian man worth his salt. Jo-Jo first informed me that Dario wanted to tell me that if I ever wanted to visit their town by the ocean, he could get a room for me. I really didn't know how to respond to that, I'm just not used to men being so forward with me, especially 39 year old men. He's closer in age to my dad that he is to me, for goodness sake! Jo-Jo also helped to translate another of Dario's comments, which, in English, translates to, "You make my heart beat like thunder and lightning." Now, honestly, where will you find an American man who will tell you that? I was almost ready to look past the fact that he was 39 and had disgusting teeth when he said that.

Later in the day we met up with Dario and Alexandro's friends, Frederico and Barbara. Frederico was about the same age as Dario, and single, so you can imagine how that went. One of the first things that Frederico informed me of was that he was single and that Barbara was only a friend. Barbara did not speak a word of English, and Frederico was absolutely infatuated with the language, despite his inability to speak it very well. I've got to give him props for trying though. I know how hard it is. He was just hilarious though. He would try to repeat all of the English words I said, one of which was "fog." Only he pronounced his G more like a K, so you can conclude what that sounded like. I ended up telling Frederico a little white lie, saying that I had a boyfriend in the United States, and I think that word got out to Dario, because the flirting died down a bit after that. I was happy about that because, although the flirting is fun to a point, it is sometimes just difficult to deal with because I don't really know how to respond or how they expect me to respond.

Around noon our whole group took a break for lunch, and I had a panini sandwich. Alexandro brought espresso shots, which they simply call "cafe" for the whole group. It was the first espresso I had ever tried, and, boy, let me tell you, that stuff is strong. They just give it to you in this little plastic shot glass, and it is only about a third of the way full, but I had the jitters after that. After lunch we went out and skied some more, but our group got split up. For some of the time I was just skiing with Dario, and for some of the time Frederico and Barbara joined us. It was Barbara's first day skiing, so she was pretty slow. She skied exactly like my mom, for those of you who know how she skis. So we ended up waiting for her a lot. The top of the mountain was inside a cloud, so I never got to go all the way to the highest point. The four of us were going to go after lunch, but by the time the fog cleared I had to go catch my bus. I did get some beautiful pictures though.

I must say I was a bit sad to leave my Italian friends at the end of the day, but I didn't want to give out any of my personal contact information either. I just have to be extra cautious being a foreign girl travelling alone in a country where and American woman is considered exotic. Dario left me with a kiss on each cheek, the Italian way for close friends to say goodbye. It was a little awkward though because I wasn't exactly sure what he was doing at first, then I wasn't sure which way to move my head. But I must say he was very understanding, and he was very kind and patient with me all day today. I will most likely never see any of them again, but I am so thankful for the experience they gave me. I learned more about the Italian language and culture today than I could have ever learned in three months in the classroom.

At the end of the day I returned to the rental shop to return my skis, and I proudly announced to the old man, "Parlo molto italiano oggi." ("I speak much Italian today."). I still couldn't really understand him, but I could pick out the word beautiful in his rapid speech. He left me with a sort-of embrace where he grabbed my arms and said something about me becoming his son's girlfriend, I think. But I could be completely off-base there. It just seems like something likely for an old Italian man to say to a girl.

At 4:00 I boarded the bus and headed back to Florence to join my classmates for dinner. I just can't stop telling people about the amazing time I had today. I am so glad that I went by myself and became immersed in the culture. I know if I would have went with classmates we would have just spoken English and kept to ourselves. I would have still had a great time, probably, but I'm sure it would not have been of the magnitude that I could call it the best day of my life. I hope that I have many more experiences like this one, but even if this one is the best that I have, I think I will be satisfied.