Saturday, June 30, 2012

Paris Belongs in the EAST BAY

This just in: Paris belongs in the East Bay! I know, it surprised me too!! But it's true. It's awesome. I've been here for maybe a half hour, and I already feel right at home.

First I saw this:


Hella Mariage! For when you're getting Hella Married. East Bay! (I really wish you could hear the voice I"m doing when I say "East Bay!" Picture a large, gangster football player. With grills. And a neck tattoo. Yep, that's the voice I'm doing. 

THEN, I found THIS in my hostel:


I feel so at home!!!!!!!! (Do you see it? Do you see why I got excited?).

Okay, well, I'm going to game plan a little. See what's closed when, etc. 

In the meantime, enjoy this video of me trying to speak French. Okay, it's Joey trying to speak French, but I promise it's pretty much the exact same thing:



Friday, June 29, 2012

Happy Girl


(Written 6/27/12)

Rooboot

I'm taking today to reboot. It feels good. When people here I'm traveling solo, they're always like, "oh my gosh, you're so brave. I could never do that." I think they equate it to be on a stranded desert by myself, but it's actually not like that at all. I'm actually always, always with people.

Yesterday, for example, I woke up and met with Stuart's friend Joan, who was AWESOME. He gave me a really cool "behind the scenes" city tour. He was a great host because he is absolutely in love with Barcelona. He was actually passionate about what he was showing, and he knew a lot! So that was great. Then after that, I went home and took a shower, got dressed, and went to meet with Hannah. When I met up with Hannah, we went and found Anna and Luisa and all went out for drinks. (They have a beer + lemonaide drink here. Very cool). Then Luisa went home and the three of us left went to the Harry Potter bar. Then Anna had to leave, and Hannah and I went and got dinner. Then we went and looked at the Sangrada Familia at night (which is really, really cool at night) and took the metro home. At home, which I share with seven other people, I chatted with Eric for a bit (he's my favorite person in the room. All the other  cool people left), and then I went to sleep.

So where's the bravery and aloneness that everyone is talking about?

No idea.

Anyways, I feel like I'm always around a lot of people. So today I took a free day. I tried to have a "productive day" with figuring out trains and grocery shopping and stuff. I bought some stuff at the grocery store, but when the train stuff didn't work out easily I was just like "I don't want to do this anymore," and so I went to the beach with a book. It was perfect. As soon as I got there, I could feel myself start to recharge. Whenever people tried to talk to me, I would just look at them confusedly and shake my head, pretending I didn't know their language, and then they left. That was fun. I was at the beach for a very long time. Then I came home, took a shower, and now I'm having a dinner or bread + ham + cheese + orange juice. I think I might go to the movies. That actually sounds quite lovely. I'll make tomorrow my productive day, but today, I'm recharging.

Send me emails.

(Written Today 6/29/12)
Hi guys! Feeling much better! A little sick, but I’ll go to sleep early tonight. Here’s what’s on the agenda for tonight: blog, get laundry out of dryer, fold laundry, pack, email people I like, SLEEEEEEEEEEP, wake up early, get on a train, sleep, wake up, switch trains, sleep, wake up in Paris.
My ring broke today, so I went and got a new one. It’s weird, in that little time period where I didn’t have a ring on my finger, I was like, “AHHHH! I’M NAKED! EVERYONE IS STARING!!!!!” Even though, obviously, nobody was. It was funny ring shopping. I could feel myself getting closer to my ring. One place would have rings that were too big, the next would be too small. One place would be too cheap, the next too expensive. One too shiny, the next too dull. But then I find mine! It makes me very happy. It was made in Thailand but I bought it here, and both those things make me happy. I feel like I learned a lot in Thailand (did I blog while I was in Thailand? I don’t think so), so this ring can be a reminder of that. PLUS, I really, really love Barcelona. So it’s a keepsake from here as well. And I think it’s more me than the pearl one was.



Anyways, sorry for the girly ring talk.

What else to talk about? Oh! Two things: 1) Sagrada Familia, 2) Picasso Museum.

SAGRADA FAMILIA


I went to Sagrada Familia yesterday, which is the GIANT church (cathedral, I guess) being built in the middle of Barcelona. It was AWESOME. Rivaled only, for me at least, by the Angkor Watt ruins. My favorite ones, with the trees growing through them. I think you can find a blog on it somewhere. But I LOVED this church. I can’t believe I almost didn’t go on the inside. I got one of those little audio-guides, so you can look at something and press a number and it tells you what you’re looking at. Super cool. On the outside, one side has the depiction of the passion (Christ’s crucifixion). But what I love about it, is it isn’t just Jesus hanging on the cross. It has lots of different scenes that tell a story, staring with the Last Supper. AND all the scenes have the Bible references, so you never go, “hmm…I don’t know if that really happened,” so that makes me happy. The other side has the depiction of Christ’s birth, again as a story. The cool thing is that the two sides are completely different. The Birth side is flowery and lovely and reminds you of Narnia when it turns into spring with animals and children and happiness. The death side, though, is barer. Much more serious. More solemn. It’s very, very cool. All together from far away, the cathedral looks like a giant drip castle.


Then you go INSIDE and it’s. . . incredible. You feel like you’re in a forest. The columns stretch way up and then branch out at the top. Everything is shell colored: whites, soft pinks, soft greens. Plus there’s really pretty stained gas. Not the weird kind, but actually pretty. And everything is so intentional. I think that’s part of it that completely blows me away. Everything, down to how many meters or centimeters tall something is, represents something biblical. Pretty cool, if you ask me.




So, ya, that was Sagrada Familia. I was completely blown away. They’ve been working on it since 1906 (I think…), and will be working on it for at least 2 more decades. Can you imagine a project that big? Oh, it was designed by Guadi. I think I’ve mentioned him before. He’s, you know, a pretty big deal. 

PICASSO MUSEUM

This just in: I know nothing about art. I really don’t. I like at something, and I go, “oh hey, a painting.” Or maybe, “look, a little girl.” Maybe I should take an art history class. Because I really know nothing. And I can’t get myself to try and learn stuff, either. It’s apparently just not a passion of mine. Like at the Picasso Museum, I had heard SO MANY great reviews about it, so I was super excited, then it was just. . . a bunch of paintings. Albeit, really, really good paintings. And it was super fun to see the progression from him as a teenager when his paintings were for school, to when he started painting for himself, to watch him as he got increasingly more abstract. That was cool. But the whole time, I was like, “oh, a painting,” and “huh, here’s another one. This must be his blue phase. I can tell because everything is blue.” Meanwhile, I’m surrounded by art students frantically sketching and saying things like, “look at this line. Ingenious.” Maybe it was because I was a bit tired, but I just couldn’t get into it. I’m not saying Picasso isn’t a fantastic artist. I’m saying I’m not very cultured.

Guess what else I did today! I went and visited THIS GUY:



So weird/wonderful to see it again. Barcelona is the first port of the Semester at Sea summer voyage, and I met some of the current SAS-ers. They all thought I was crazy, because I kept saying, “oh my gosh! I’m so excited for you! You’re going to meet your best friends, you’re going to be in each other’s weddings, you’re going have so much fun, oh my gosh oh my gosh.” They were probably like, “Gurl, you be crazy,” but whatever. They’ll learn.

(oh! I think my laundry might be done. Going to go check. Brb).


(Nope, 7 minutes)

Okay, what else do I want to tell you? I forget what I’ve told you. Wow, I just went back and glanced. I didn’t write very much about Barcelona.
What else. . . I may have to use bullet points.
-          Hannah and I ate dinner at this really, really cool restaurant I learned about from ease dropping. It was super fancy, but totally worth it. It’s apparently where all the great Barcelona artists frequented: Guadi, Picasso, some other important one. It’s called The 4 Cats. Super cool.


-          Went to the Magic Fountain last night. I’m amazed at how I can continue to find new places in Barcelona that I love love love. The fountains are HUGE and there’s music and lights and the fountains. . . dance. I can’t think of a better word for it. I went there with a bunch of hostel friends.


-          This hostel is great. It’s so easy to meet people!



-          I currently have a 8 bedroom room to myself! So THAT’S excellent. The last roommates very really bad. I was so happy when they left.
-          I learned the beach isn’t real. The sea is (duh), but the beach is made out of imported sand from Egypt. Around the time they had the Olympics here (1992), they realized that a beach would bring more tourists. So they made one. Impressive, considering the size of the beach. It’s really big. Every year, they send out ships that scoop the sand up and bring it back.
-    Going to the movies the other night didn't work. I went to see Men In Black, thinking that since it was called "Men In Black" not "Hombres en Negros" or something, it'd be in English. Nope. Spanish. I was there for about 30 seconds then left. They didn't make me pay. Complicated story there, but it turned out okay. Then I went back to the hostel and met a funny Irish guy/kid (19) that pulled me out of my funk. He was proud of upholding the "drunken irish" stereotype, and he did it very well. Quite amusing. 

(laundry is done!)

Look at how many pictures I gave you!!!!!!!!!! Now I'm packing up in my EMPTY room! It's AWESOME! I can spread everything out! I'm such a happy girl. :)

Sunday, June 24, 2012

I Less Than Three Barcelona

I less than three Barcelona.
I <3 Barcelona.
I love Barcelona.

Really, I love it here. This is one of the first places that makes me go, "ya, I could live here." Not just vacation here, like I thought about in France. But live here. Work here. Go grocery shopping here. I really, really like it here.

I'm going to steal my friend's description of Milan and apply it to Barcelona: It's like a small town that happens to be a large city. (I think that's what she said). I love walking around here. None of the buildings are more than 6 or so stories, so it doesn't feel like you're lost in a skyscraper forest. The buildings are all beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful. I don't know about architecture, nor do I care about it. At all. And even I know that the architecture here is something special. It's not all straight lines and hard corners. There are artistic details here that I really love. And there are big, beautiful fountains everywhere! The streets are wide and have large bike lanes. I love it here. I never feel like I'm going to die when I cross the street. There are escalators where you need them, but not enough that make you think they're just for the fat Americans. There is a huge long strip of beach with lots of day life and night life. The people are friendly. The metro system is punctual, understandable, and functional. It's full of twenty-something year olds. Everyone speaks Spanish. The food it delicious (tapas!). Every restaurant has outdoor seating. The streets are paved with gold (just kidding). The girls wear pretty dresses. The boys skateboard. I love it here. There are people from all around the world. It feels cosmopolitan but still very Spanish. It feels metropolitan, but not overwhelmingly so like you're never going to see nature again. I love it here. It's hot, but not too hot. You don't need a sweater when you go out at night, but you're also not like, "dang these hot, hot clothes." There's a ocean breeze. I love it here.



I'm such a happy girl.


Okay, now I'll tell you a little about my time here.

Day 1: Rolled into Barcelona around 2pm. Checked into my AWESOME hostel. You can check it out here if you want to. It's probably the coolest hostel I've stayed in, and I'm going to probably keep looking for Equity Point Hostels. Okay, now that that plug is over. When I checked in, I had to pay for the night before that I had booked even though I didn't stay there because of the train mishaps. A bit of a bummer, but definitely fair. BUT, they felt bad for me, so they gave me a better room (on the second floor, room is smaller and only has 8 people, not a crowded/noisy floor), AND they gave me free towels and sheets (usually you have to rent them for like 2 euro). So that worked out awesomely. Then I went exploring Barcelona on a mini-mission to replace the stuff in my stolen purse.

It was pretty easy. Partially because EVERYONE HERE SPEAKS SPANISH. Imagine that. But it was so easy, because I could ask people where to buy a camera, and then when I got to the camera store, I could talk to them about the different cameras, compare them, compare the prices, etc. It was so easy. So I replaced the phone, camera, etc. Dropped some dollars, but it was worth it. Then I went through the Casa Batllo, and that was really super cool. (House designed by Gaudi).

Then what did I do...

Wow! I just realized that I was trying to break stuff up into days, but I've only been here one day! Holy moly, how did everything happen in one day?

Then I went home and took a nap. Then I went and met up with the two lovely girls that I had met on the attempted trip to Barcelona with the trains and hotels and such. We had dinner and wandered around the city. Walking a little, grabbing a drink, walking some more. Super fun. Eventually (1:30am) we ended at a club and our names were on the list (ya, we're that cool. Don't ask me how it happened. Someone knew someone who knew someone with connections) so we got in for free. So that was great. I love getting in places for free.

But I didn't end up staying very long. Actually, I left pretty immediately, and I went out to find Nadja. She was out on the beach because there was a freakin' huge party. It's kind of like a New Year's eve celebration.  Except for the beginning of summer. Yay summer! Fireworks, bonfires, clubs on the beach, music, dancing, more fireworks. It was great.




So I went - and I found her! We were on the phone, and I was like "I'm under the fireworks" and she was like "I'm under the fireworks!" and we were under the same fireworks trying to wave at each other but looking in opposite directions. But we found each other. Huzzah! So I joined her and her friends, and we spent the night dancing on the beach 'till it started getting light a bit after 5am, and we went home to her apartment and went to sleep until past noon.

THEN

Day 2: Woke up past noon. Had breakfast/lunch. I went back to the hostel and changed and such. Met with Nadja and Phillip and went to Parco Guell, the park area designed by Gaudi. And that was super cool.

Then I came back to the hostel and showered (finally!).

Then I went and met with Hannah and Carolyn again (the girls from the train) and ate food.

Then I came back, but on comfy clothes, and now I'm writing this.

I'm sorry, I know this was just a really basic play-by-play. I hope it wasn't too boring.

Love you all.

I'll go back and add some pics, then I'm out. Night all.

(sorry, the picture adding wasn't quite successful, but it takes a long time and my computer is dying and some were upside down and insert other excuses here. please forgive me).

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Up And Runnin'

Hey everyone! I just wanted to let you all know that all is well. I dropped some dollars today, and am now fully stocked with a camera and phone again. I forget the phone number. . . email me for it if you want it. ALSO, I ended up getting here about 18 hours later than I expected, which allotted me PLENTY of time to catch up on my journal. So I am not completely better from that little purse-snatching mishap and ready to enjoy the wonder that is Barcelona!

I LOVE BARCELONA!!!!!!!!!

I think it's one of my favorite places I've been. First place I could see myself living. Like living-living. Not forever, but maybe for a year or two. Maybe.

LOVE IT HERE.

Love you all.

Here's a picture to show you how okay I am:


Friday, June 22, 2012

My Guardian Angel is Working Overtime


(wrote this this afternoon on the train in a word document. now copy and pasting for your enjoyment)

I feel so blessed. Just in the past 14 or so hours, there have been so many potential really unfortunate events. . . I guess by "so many" I really mean "2".

If you're a loyal reader (how funny that I have "loyal readers"), you already know about my purse being stollen. That could have been really much worse, in so many ways. It could have been violent or traumatizing. I could have tried to fight back and ended up hurt (don't worry, I know that's not what you're supposed to do. You throw the purse and run the other way). They could have taken things that are difficult to replace. But my credit cards, passport, and EuRail pass are all safe. I could have had just one journal instead of two. They way it went, they only got from Rome to Nice. I hope they read it and enjoy it and enjoy it. And then send it back. My email address is in it, along with Stuart's (old) address and I think Dado's too. If they every want to take a really cool trip, all the info is in there: train times and routes, hostels, phone numbers, restaurants, whatever. Plus now I get to buy a new journal, which is good. How else could it have been worse. . .the glasses in the purse could have ben prescription instead of just normal, cheap sunglasses. That would have been a bother. My camera could have had a full memory card that I had never emptied, but as is, I just lost like five pictures of Nice. It could have been my cool, red Italian purse instead of my old, brown Goodwill purse. Oh! And it could have had my iPhone that I was considering bringing with me, instead of a crap little piece of plastic with like 4 more prepaid euros on it. It could have gotten stolen during something that wasn't worth it, like if I had accidentally fallen asleep on a park bench or someting. (Not that I do that - they don't have motors). But as is, I had a really great night last night. And sure, next time I'm sitting on the beach enjoying delicious pizza and lovely company, I'll remember to put my purse around my shoulder instead of set it next to me (seems like a no brainer), sometimes you forget things. And I'm just so thankful that it ended as good as it did!!!

(short break, and then I'll tell you about my current near-disaster).

Okay, back. Ha! You didn't even notice I was gone, did you? I'm that fast. So currently, I am sitting on a very delayed train that will continue to be delayed for a very long time. Let me tell you why that's a blessing: the train I'm on delayed because up ahead a train had a very large accident. How blessed I am to be on the one that's only delayed. Announcements I don't understand keep coming on, and everyone keeps sighing. I imagine they keep adding time to how long we'll be delayed. But I'd rather be eventually on my way to Barcelona than immediately on my way to the hospital. . . or the morgue. Wouldn't you? (Sorry, the morgue comment was very macabre and I'm sure not appreciated by my mom. Sorry Mom!). Anyways, there are so many things to be thankful for in this situation, and I'm feeling rather lucky. Besides being on the train that crashed, I could be the mom behind me responsible for the crying child, but I'm not. So I don't need to worry about that one. I could be waiting for a train that isn't even here yet, which would mean that I would have to wait in the hot hot outside or the hot hot station, instead of in here in my comfy, air conditioned trian car. The train could be a regional, unairconditioned, crowded train. Instead, it's an IC (itnercountry?) train that is basically occupied by me and some French military guys (and the crying baby & mom). I have five seats to myself, my feet are up, I have comfy pants on, and the train security (maybe?) are passing out free water. Free water! Plus, it gave me the time to run inside and buy a new journal. It's bigger than the one I was using before, but we'll see how it goes. If I don't end up liking it, I'll just write a lot very quickly and move on. Oh! And since the trian isn't moving, I'm awake! Which means I have time to write this blog and hopefully re-write parts of the journal that I lost. And I'm so thankful that I'm not headed to a plane or something. I'll probably miss the rest of my 3 connecting trains to Barcelona, but (thanks to my EuRail!), all I lose is my 26 euro seat reservations and my 5 euro deposit for the hostel tonight. Not a big deal. I'm considering going into the trainstation and buying that waterproof camera I saw, but it just seems so hot between there and here. Which makes me that much more thankful to be on this nice train with free water and a fully functional air conditioning.

I'm a firm believer in alternative narratives. I think it's something that keeps me sane when things don't go how I want them to. I think it's faith paired with a vibrant imagination. I love the verse that says, "And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him." I think it's Romans 8:28, but I could be very wrong. It gives me peace that everything that happens really is for good. In some way. Ugh, as I write that, I am heaing a lot of objections: The Holocaust, genocide in general, child abuse, the list goes on. . . but at the same time, my thoughts about alternative narratives jump in. I guess the idea that in another narrative, it could have gone a different way, and it could have been worse. I picture it like something happend in the wose case scenario, and then someone prayed or called out, "No, God. Not that." And he went back (He doesn't work on a linear timeline) and changed it. I know a couple of you who are probably thinking I'm crazy, but I don't particularly care. It's a thoguht process that works for me. Like with child abuse, the child could have been killed. Maybe someone cried out, "No, I need him. Anything but that, just don't take him away from me." And the story was rewritten. The child was spared. Albeit, spared with emotional and physical scars, but still given the gift of life and the chance to make the world a little better. To show his children love instead of abuse. On a lighter note, there was a party awhile back that I wanted to go to that I ended up not going to. I was bummed for a bit, until I thought about alternative narratives. Maybe it would have been one of those "good nights gone bad" kind of experiences. Maybe it would have ended really, really poorly. Maybe it would have ended with me saying, "God, if only I hadn't have gone to that party." Maybe. And so the story was rewritten. . . Maybe.

Maybe not.

Maybe not, and this is all a bunch of nonesense. But it's nonesense that works for me. Nonesense that keeps me not only sane but cheerful when my purse gets jacked and my train gets delayed. And I know that God works for the good of those who love Him, so I can only believe that there is good in each situation. I just have to look for it.

-------------------------------------

UPDATE
The connections didn't work out, so I'm in P-something, France for the night with two other girls that were Barcelona-bound. One is from New Jersey and the other is from Massachusetts. They're pretty cool, and I'm glad to have met them. I'm safe, happy, about to be fed (we'll go foraging for food soon), and staying in a HOTEL which is a huge upgrade from hostels, so that's fun. Tomorrow I will try and find a phone and a camera. Life is good. God is good.

Bye!

This Doesn't Have a Picture Because My Purse Got Stolen

Hey everyone! I really, really love Nice. Last night there was a big music festival/party, and I don't think anyone really knows why, but it was great.

Except for when my bag got stolen.

But it was my fault, and it taught me a good lesson to be more careful with my stuff. They got about 6 euros, my camera (99% of the pics had already been downloaded), phone (woops), my sunglasses (I get to go shopping!), and my journal (the only real bummer).

But I'm considering it a good thing. None of the really important/inconvenient stuff (passport, credit cards, etc.) got stolen. Besides, it was a good wake up call. I think I was getting too comfortable, and now I'll be sure to be more careful with all the stuff that actually matters.

Anyways, just wanted to let you all know not to expect any pictures or phone calls for awhile. But I'm safe. And happy. Love you all!

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

"Nice" is an Understatement

Hey! Guess where I am!



If you guessed Paris - nope! Tricked you!

I'm in Nice, which is pronounced like "niece." As in, "If Kerry & Danyelle ever have a daughter, I will feed her chocolate and buy her clothes because she will be my NIECE." So, that's fun.

I've only been here a couple hours, but already so many things are starting to make sense. When we were driving up (training up? rolling up? racing up? zooming up? ... what do you do in a train?), I had a moment of agreement of Ingrid Michaelson. In her song "You and I" (I love that song - go listen to it here if you haven't before), she has the lyrics: "Let's get rich and buy our parents' house in the South of France." And I used to be like, "ya, or somewhere else. There are lots of nice places."

Nope.

I want a house in the South of France. Not here in Nice, but somewhere east or west a little. I don't think I want to live here full time, but being able to come here whenever I want would be quite lovely.

This place reminds me a quote of my uncle Greg's that I may have actually referenced before. I remember a couple years ago, we were in Yosemite and he said, "It doesn't get any more beautiful than this. Maybe different beautiful, but not more beautiful." I thought about that here. It doesn't get any more beautiful than this.

There are big green hills right until the the ocean. But they slope down just in time to leave room for a perfect little beach that hugs the whole coast. The water is the definition of "crystal clear." It's not just "clear" like you would write down under your description column in a science log, as opposed to opaque or cloudy. Nope. Crystal clear. Meaning if you melted down crystals, they would look like this water. It sparkles and shimmers like it retains it's crystal properties. As you move away from the beach, it turns from colorless, to turquoise, to a perfect blue.

And some of the mansions we trained (?) by had little walk ways right down to the water. I wouldn't mind that at all.

So the first thing I noticed when getting off the train was that I was the biggest annoyance to all things France or French related. I didn't see when the line I was in was open for me to go to a booth (it was behind a pole), and people looked at me and shook their head in disgust. Then the ticket lady (I was buying my next ticket) was so annoyed with me.

Then she was nice.

And all was well.

I don't know what the change was. Maybe she noticed that I wasn't a complete idiot, and instead of just saying, "Uhh, I wanna go somewhere," I knew exactly where I wanted to go, the train numbers, the time they left, etc. So that was helpful.

Anyways, everything is in French. I don't speak a word of French. I don't understand a word of French (or so I thought). All new and foreign.

And this is what I was thinking when I was walking toward the beach after checking into my hostel, when I heard a faint yet familiar jingle.

Could that be? No. But it sounds like . . . ? I think it is...

I walked closer to a crowd of people, following the music, and sure enough. Two seconds later: "In West Philadelphia, born and raised. . ." the familiar tune of Will Smith's Fresh Prince of Bell Aire played as a street performer danced to it.

France suddenly felt more familiar.

I wandered my way down to the beach. Jumped in the water (perfect), laid around, and then got lost on my way back. Which wasn't a big deal, because Niece is fairly small and I had a map.

So, ya. Then I came back and met my cool Australian roommates, and I'm writing this while they're showering, then we'll go forage for food.

Oh, my itinerary has (obviously) changed. So here we go...

LILA'S NEW ITINERARY 
0900 wake up
0930 rent a bike and ride around Nice
1100 go to the beach because it's too hot to do anything else
1700 leave the beach. shower. change.
18 find food.

life is good. :-)

Okay, but here's my real itinerary:

now - 6/22: Nice, France
6/22 - 7/5: Barcelona and other places in Spain (tbd)
7/5-7/10: Paris, France
7/10-7/12: Little town in Switzerland that I don't want to look up how to spell, Switzerland
7/12-7/15: Verscio (David), Switzerland
7/16 - 7/22: Amsterdam, Netherlands
Then other stuff.

Other stuff I want to quickly mention:
- My family in Italy is THE COOLEST!!!!!!!!!!!!! I feel cool by association to be related to them. Two cousins, aunt, and uncle. I really loved spending time with them. Super fun.
- I heard the song "Hotel California" here, and I felt cool.
- Everything is neon here.
- Here's a funny picture of people taking a funny picture
- They make the douches go to a separate beach here, so that's nice.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Into the Pensieve

Okay, there's still some stuff in my head that I want to clear out. And I apparently want to share it with you, so...

THOUGHTS ON AMERICANS WHO HAVE THOUGHTS ON AMERICA
If you know me, you know that complaining really irks me. (Which is a bit ironic, because I suppose right now I'm complaining about complainers). But here we go anyways.

It really bothers me when Americans come here and bash America. No wonder so much of the world hates us. I'm not saying that America is perfect - far from it, but all the international community knows about America is what they see, learn, and hear. It's the same of what Americans know about any other country they've never been to. So why do Americans contribute to the negative sentiments about America? It's not attractive, and it's not good politics. The world already knows all the bad stuff, and they already know all the fake good stuff (everyone lives next to a famous person, etc.), so why not tell them the REAL good stuff that they don't already know?

I guess what started this was walking through the Roman ruins with another American. He kept complaining the whole time about how America doesn't have anything like that. I've heard the same thing when going in some of those really big, cool churches. Or anything really big and old and grand that has lasted forever.

And I have to say, yes. Duh. It's true. We don't have ruins that are thousands of years old. We don't have churches that have been around seemingly forever. But we're also only 236 years old. We're still a baby country. And I think something that's pretty cool about America is it's history, which consequently has resulted in it not having big stone buildings.

America was started by some scrappy individuals that came over because they were fleeing a dread or chasing a dream. That's pretty cool. They were more focused on surviving then they were on leaving a legacy. America came out of a revolutionary war of people saying that they didn't want to put up with other people's crap anymore. They wanted to try things on their own because they thought they could create a better life for themselves, their family, and their country. That's pretty cool. They didn't really have time to be like, "Hey guys, this fighting for freedom thing is cool and all, but can we take a short break and build some stuff that'll last a long time?"

And think of what we HAVE contributed. What we have contributed to the world has gone global. It doesn't take a really expensive plane ticket to come check it out. Our contributions are available to everyone at comparatively low costs. Jazz music. Great classic movies like Singing in the Rain. iPhones. That's pretty cool.

And we have some stuff that'll last for a pretty long time. Do you see Mt. Rushmore going anywhere any time soon? What about the Statue of Liberty? I don't see that walking off in the near future.

I think we need to stop comparing countries. Ya, Italy is fricken' sweet for the Roman ruins. It's awesome that Peru has Machu Picchu. Everyone wants to go see the Pyramids in Egypt. The Great Wall of Chine is incredible.

But when we compare countries like that, we loose something important. We loose the value of what each country has to offer. So every time I hear an American saying, "America is so lame. We don't have anything like this," I want to poke them in the eye. As for churches, we have some pretty sweet ones. Have you ever been to that new church in Oakland? Pretty cool.

So I vote we stop comparing countries, and just say, "this is really cool" instead of, "this is really cool, America is so lame." Because the latter doesn't help anyone.

DADO & HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS
So I'm here in Piadena, Italy staying with Dado and his family, and it's been a lot of fun. They're absolutely wonderful hosts!

The other night Dado and his friends brought me to an outside discoteche, which was a blast. Here were to of my charming escorts. (Dado & friend). 


This picture cracks me up. It was one of those awkward pictures that you go, "Oh, that's how that turned out." Anyways, his friends were fun.

And for his family...

I think that if the Lion King's Pumba was a silver bracelet wearing, fast car driving, intelligent, moral, popped-collar-"Porsche"-polo-sporting, Italian man, he'd be Dado's dad. I say that because they're both generous, funny, passionate about food, easy going, and a joy to be around.


It's been such a pleasure staying with them, and I'm bummed to be leaving tomorrow. The cool thing, though, is I get to go hang out for a night with my family.

That's right - I have family in Italy! So, that's fun. I think I'll write more about that tomorrow. But for now, I'm going to go ride bikes with Dado by the river. My head is feeling less heavy/full/crowded/busy. So, that's good.

Peace out!

Sunday, June 17, 2012

It's Italy (very long)

Sometimes (often) I wonder what my head would be full of if I didn't blog. Honestly, I can't remember what I think about for the 9 or so months a year that I'm not blogging. Now, I'm always thinking in terms of blog. Even this, these exact words, I thought about while I was in a car. And when we were driving up to lunch today in the hills of Bologna and there were little butterflies, I wasn't just like, "oh! Little butterflies!" I was like, "Ooo, how can I describe this pretty butterflies in a way that'll capture it? Daytime fireflies? Small fairies?"...I never did figure out quite how to describe them.

And the other hard part is how to start it. I always have so many ideas, so many things that I want to talk about, and I never know which to put first. The funny thing, though, is that once I start typing, I end up not really having a choice. It all just kind of flows out. Some of it is pre-scripted, other parts surprise me, and other parts replace the pre-scripted parts that I intended to put in but that ended up getting booted for something else.

I want to warn you that this is going to be (hopefully) a very long blog. I say hopefully because these blogs are as much for me as they are for me. When I am in blog mode, my brain can get crowded because I'm always writing out what's going on internally. Weird, I know, but whatever. This is my Pensieve. If you don't know what that is, you should probably go read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Hmm...but it doesn't make sense to just read one of the HP books, so you should probably just go back and read all of them.

Or I'll just tell you. Dumbledore's Pensieve is a cool thought-bowl that he uses to empty his brain into so he can see everything from a different perspective, as he says, "when I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind." Granted, I'm not a ~150 year old great wizard, but there's still a lot going on up there. And I'm hoping to empty it out into my Pensieve. So here we go.


...


.....


...

Writers block.

Oh!

Dado pointed out to me that in my last post, I spelled Porsche wrong (I wrote "Porche"), but I'm just proud of myself for not spelling Audi like "Outtie". So I still consider that entry a win. Just saying...

(Just took a break to write an email to my FANTASTIC father - HAPPY FATHERS DAY, DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

If I'm going to write a lot, I should break it down. I think I'm going to break it down categorically as opposed to chronologically, so I hope that's okay with you.

PACS STUFF & ITALY

I think that everyone should be required to travel. Especially people wanting to do some sort of international-influencing work. Or people who want to work with people. And really especially people who want to work with people internationally. And when I say traveling, I mean traveling where you talk to people. I don't mean a global bar hopping pub crawl expedition. I've already learned so much just from staying with Dado and his dad. So many things that I thought I knew, I realized that what I had been taught or what I assumed wasn't the whole story. I don't know why I keep thinking I know things. Someone smart once said, "There's nothing as firmly lodged as an expert's ignorance." I think I'm beginning to understand that more and more each day.

For example, yesterday I was in Milan with Dado, and I noticed a billboard for a movie coming up called "Dictator." It looks like a dumb, Borat-ish movie about a dictator that can no longer be in his country and has to go work at McDonald's...or something. But the point is, that there's a big sign that says "Dictator" that's supposed to be a comedy.


I found myself thinking, "What is wrong with them? Don't they know? Don't they know that Italy was oppressed by an evil dictator for nearly 20 years? How insensitive of them to put this up." I mean, it had a big enough impression on me that I took a picture of it.

In a conversation with Dado and his dad last night, I learned that not everyone is as negative about Mussolini as I thought. No one denies that his 1940 decision to side with Germany in WWII was horrible. I've never heard anyone say anything positive about his international politics. However, the history books gloss over the good things he did that I had no idea about: creating jobs, improving public transportation, and massive attacks on the mafia that eventually forced them all into temporary inactivity. Now I'm not saying that I'm "pro-Mussolini," I'm just saying that I didn't even know that there was anything to be pro-Mussolini about, and now I do. The train station in Milan, for example, is huge and impressive. It was built under Mussolini. A lot of the big, impressive buildings in Milan were built under Mussolini. The problems with Italians saying there is a lack of jobs and asking for welfare instead would, supposedly, not have happened under Mussolini. I was just so surprised to hear so many good things about him and how much good he did for his country, when only a couple hours earlier I was thinking, "Don't they know these people were oppressed??"

I need to stop thinking I know everything.

Another example. Maybe it's just a PACS thing, but when I think of Italy, I think of immigration. Quick background on international law and Italy's situation. If you check out a map, you'll notice that Italy protrudes into the Mediterranean Sea. On the other side of the sea if Africa. As you may have guessed, many parts of Africa do not have the best qualities of life - some countries are struck with war or poverty or violent revolution or lack of work or any other number of reasons that would push people to leave. According to international law, if someone gets onto your land and claims to be fleeing potential harm and to be seeing asylum, you cannot turn them away until you have evaluated their situation and decided to either grant or not grant their request. You cannot return them to their country, but you can let them pass through your country to seek asylum in the next country. (Please note - this is different from straight up illegal immigration. These people declare themselves as soon as they come into the country. People who simply immigrate illegally can be deported, as any American knows). Anyways, in 2011 there was a lot of talk about how Italy tried to stop the flow of this type of immigration by simply not letting the boats land. (Italy is not the only country to do this - Australia has performed similar practices). After these people sacrificed everything just to get on these boats, however, Italy's refusal to accept their boat onto the land, especially when the people were claiming refugee status, elicited lots of "How could they?!"s from PACS majors everywhere.

But...

Talking with actual Italians about the subject presented another point of view (shocking how that happens!). Giorgio (Dado's dad) and Dado talked a lot about how immigration is mismanaged in Italy, and as a result it creates a country full of (sometimes racist) nationalists who want to protect their country form the immigrants.  They kept saying, "immigration is a resource, not an enemy," but saying that Italy treats it like an enemy. Because they don't have a working process for immigration, like, they say, Germany does (German immigration is pretty strict, but it ends up "successful," meaning it accepts people who will be an asset to the country and who go through a naturalization process if/when they become a citizen). In Italy, though, the process is not as well laid out. As a result, there are people coming in and then asking for welfare and hand outs. The poor Italians cannot get the same help because there are too many immigrants to provide for, which leads to resentment and eventually racism. Immigrants are taking the jobs that poor Italians don't want, such as milking cows that have odd hours and are out in the country, when Italians want to have their weekends and live in the city. (I'm not trying to make sweeping generalizations, just relay a conversation). As a result, the immigrants take the jobs that many Italians don't want, but instead of spending their money here in Italy, they send it back to their family. To anyone that lives in a wealthy country next to poorer countries, this all sounds familiar. It makes sense why there would be animosity and resentment. I'm not saying it's right, but it makes sense. Right? Another thing that I thought was interesting was that here in Italy, they were one people. I think that's something that's something that makes this case different from America. In America, we're supposed to be a melting pot, or it was later changed to a salad (because everyone retains their own cultures, but we're all mixed together). Here in Italy, they were never (in recent history) a melting pot. They were Italian and largely Catholic. Now, immigrants from northern Africa are coming into the schools and saying that they don't like the crucifixes hanging in the classrooms. Giorgio compared it to having someone in your home, and then them saying that they don't like your table cloth - you have to throw it out. Their reaction is to say, "Well if you don't like the table cloth, then just don't come over." I don't know how to end this section gracefully, so I'm just going to leave it at that. It's interesting to talk to people about subjects that they're actually effected by, instead of just bouncing ideas around in an isolated classroom thousands of miles away.

So speaking of that: The Mafia.

I don't know how that's a "speaking of that," I mostly just wanted to talk about the Mafia. Because, you know, I'm in Italy. Oh, for the record, I now know someone who knows someone who knows someone who is just starting out in the Mafia. So if you mess with me. . . I can probably hook you up with some drugs or something. Because that's all he does so far.

Anyway, I'm fascinated by the Mafia. (Is it always capitalized?...I just looked it up. When it's referring to "the Mafia" - like the Italian one - then it is. When it's used to describe a group of people likened to the Mafia, like "a mafia of seventh grade boys out for no good," it's not). I'm talking about the Mafia - capital letters. It's another thing that I think I got all wrong. Which makes sense. They don't exactly have a facebook info page, you know?

Anyways: The Mafia. This is another thing that people actually had a surprisingly lot of good to say about. Movies like, "Micky Blue Eyes" gave me the impression that the Mafia is all family, and it's something that you're born into and that's it. (I'm not referencing The Godfather because I never saw it. What I saw was "Micky Blue Eyes," a romantic comedy where Hugh Grant falls in love with a Mafia boss' daughter). I learned that it's a lot more than that. There are a lot of economic motivations behind people's involvement. When people are poor and they have no where else to turn to, sometimes they will turn to the Mafia for work in exchange for protection - social, physical, and economic. It makes sense, then, that with Mussolini who created so many jobs, the Mafia action was minimal. And it makes sense that it's more of a problem with the economic crisis and influx of immigrants. But still, the Mafia is commended for their efficiency and accuracy. For such a large organization, they have very little bureaucratic crap. If there's a problem, you take care of it. Normal people are never in harms way. That's something that really sets them apart from terrorist organizations that bomb schools or subways. If the Mafia wants you dead, you're dead. But they're not going to kill you by blowing up a coffee shop, they're going to kill you by killing you. Very efficient. No muss no fuss. And they take care of their own, which is more than you can say for many governments.

I'm not saying that I'm supportive of the Mafia, I'm just saying that it's a really fascinating organization. I would love to learn more about it, but I don't want to be killed, so maybe I won't. BUT, one thing I will say is that if the Mafia wanted Osama Bin Ladden dead, they wouldn't have gone to war with the whole country of Afghanistan. It would have just been done. I can see the benefit of an organization that gets specific jobs done quickly and effectively without casualties or collateral damage.

Is it weird that I miss school and papers and research? Probably not. I'm nerdy. We all know that.

Can you see now why my head has been crowded?

Okay...moving on.

MOTOR NARCOLEPSY

Since leaving Stuart's house a couple weeks ago, I have suffered from what I am calling "motor narcolepsy." Did I talk about it? Basically, whenever I get in anything with a motor, I fall asleep. (We're pretending that trains have motors, by the way. I don't know how they actually work). But it didn't matter what it was: plane, bus, trains, cars, whatever. I would get in and fall asleep.

But I found a cure!

Fast, pretty, fast, shiny, fast cars!


So...that was fun to find out. But it's true! I stay awake in these cars. The blue shiny one (not pictured), the white shiny one (not pictured), the black shiny one (pictured) - I stay awake! ... with the exception of a) if it's 3:30am and we're coming home from the discoteche, or b) if I just spent 4 hours eating. Yay fast cars! Also, I learned that the German freeways have no speed limit. So... that's fun. Anyone in Germany have a shiny car?

IT'S ITALY


The other day I was talking to Dado about different countries and how different countries have different priorities...or something. I forget exactly what we were talking about. But then there was this.

Things That Matter To Italians
1. Girls
2. Soccer
3. Cars
And then there's everything else

I found that funny and worth mentioning.

"It's Italy" seems to be the catch phrase around here. "You don't have to wear your seat belt, it's Italy." (Don't worry, parents, I still do). "You can just leave that trash on the ground, it's Italy." "And then her bike got stolen, it's Italy." "People just do whatever they want, it's Italy." etc. etc.


CLOSING THOUGHTS
I'm suddenly very tired, which makes sense considering I was out last night and it's already late. But it's also quite annoying because I'm not close to done and my brain is still full. Here are more things I want to talk about:
- Thoughts about people who have thoughts about America
- American flag tshirts (they're taking over!)
- Meeting my family
- Dado and his awesome friends/family
- Itinerary (okay, I guess I can still post that)

Sorry this was long, and probably boring for many of you. Just so we're clear: I'm not pro-Mussolini nor do I want the Mafia to take over the world.


Here's my TENTATIVE ITINERARY:


Now - 6/20: Milan, Italy
6/20 - 6/24: Neuchatel, Switzerland
6/25-6/28: Paris, France
6/27-6/30: Bourdeaux, France
6/30 - 7/5: Barcelona, Spain
7/6 - 7/9: Pamplona, Spain
7/9 - 7/11: Something between Pamplona & Zurich
7/11 - 7/12: Zurich, Switzerland
7/12 - 7/15: Verscio, Switzerland
7/16 - 7/22: Amsterdam, Netherlands
7/23 - 7/30: Somewhere, Ireland
8/1 - 8/6: Berlin, Germany
8/6 - Home: Eastern Europe.



Friday, June 15, 2012

Pink Crocs

My head feels heavy from wine, I'm watching football/soccer,and I ate homemade pasta AND lasagna for dinner, oh and I'm wearing pink crocs. Is this what it feels like to be Italian? Probably.

I don't know where to start. I don't want to start too far back, because then I'll never catch up to where I am. But I don't want to start where I am, because then I'll never reach far back.

Whatever. I'll just start typing and see where it goes.

Rome was excellent. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Every time I felt like, "okay, I'm done," something happened to make me think, "never mind, I could stay awhile longer." A big part of that were my roommates Francesca and Caterina. They're both from Bologna, Italy and are escaping the post-earthquake craziness by fleeing to Rome. I really enjoyed hanging out with them. Caterina is a robot (in the best sort of way), in that she never tires and is always full of energy. She's hard to keep up with when walking down the street, but bring here in museum, and it takes hours to go down the hall. Francesca is more easy going and go with the flow. A great combo for a great time in Rome! We met up with our next door neighbors (remember last post when I went to play BS with some Cal Bears - them), and at night we all went to the Spanish steps and talked and drank wine. It was great. One of those movie-ish nights. I'm really loving those.



The next day we (Francesca, Caterina, and I) went to the Vatican, which was really, really cool. I loved seeing the Sistine Chapel and all the other art. It was really. . . cool. I especially loved the art that was painted on the walls, because that means I actually WAS where the great artists were. It wasn't a painting that got moved far from the original location. They actually spent probably hundreds of hours in those rooms. Pretty cool, if you ask me.


Oh! And St. Peter's Cathedral was awesome and pretty and big and really cool.



Then I eventually went to Cinque Terre, five cities on the west coast of Italy. I spent 2 days and 3 nights there, which was great. It's supposed to be a great place for hiking and such, but I didn't really feel like hiking. So I just spent most my time on various beaches. Eating pizza. I'm going to come back 300 pounds and tan, so I guess that breaks even, ya? I did one little walk called "Lovers Walk." I did it by myself (story of my life). There was a tunnel with lots of graffiti of confessions of love. "Jimmy, I'll love you forever." "S + R = <3 " "Even though you're not here, Billy Bob, you're here in my heart and I carry you wherever I go. Can't wait to see you in June. Blah blah blah." I found a couple that were kind of cool.

"duh winning"

"for narnia!"


And of course, I couldn't leave without leaving my mark.



So that was Cinque Terre. Pizza, beaches, gellato, and alone-love-walks.

Then I left this morning for what I thought was Milan. But it turns out that Dado lives in Milan the way that Santa Cruz-ians live in SF, which is to say not at all, but it's convenient to pick a  big city near by to kind of reference. So it turns out I'm in this little village about an hour by train outside of Milan.

Dado and his dad picked me up from the train station in the nicest, shiniest car at the station. And I was already like, "wow!" when I learned that this "slow car" (not my words) was just a loner because their Audi Q-Something got stolen today from the car wash, which majorly sucks. But don't worry, they still have the Porche.

So we came home and Master Chef (Dado's dad) made us an AWESOME Italian dinner of pasta AND lasagna. And wine. And fruit. And I'm so very full and happy.


So I'm here for a couple days, and I'm so excited. I have my own room, which is a major change from crowded hostels. And Dado & his dad are really great. And I can just relax and watch Ridiculousness on MTV (okay, I'm not really watching), while writing this. On wi-fi that works, so I'll probably be able to go back and add pictures in one go, isn't that exciting?! I think so too.

I'm so happy and relaxed and clean and well fed.

Dado showed me lots of photos of his trip to California, which made me thankful for my awesome parents (Hi Mom & Dad!!!!). They're really, really cool. I you don't know them, you should.

I always think of things I want to write about, and then when it comes time to write them, I forget. Things like how i had to throw away my beloved Rainbows because they turned into death-shoes. And that blog post was going to be called "RIP Rainbows." But oh well.

sorry, i can't rotate it


Or how I found an ancient Roman statue of Gerald Butler.


Or anything about the awesomeness of the Colosseum. 



Or how I bought new shoes at are like "grown up jellies!" so that makes me happy.

Or that I got sunburned in awkward stripes that I missed with my sunscreen. Or how one of the major downfalls of traveling by yourself is not having someone to tell you when you have something in your teeth. Or how yesterday I ate pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

I can't think of what else I wanted to write about. Probably lots of important stuff, you know, knowing me. But for now, I think that's all I've got.  


Love you all!!



Sunday, June 10, 2012

When In Rome

Hey everyone! I say "everyone" not just "Mom" because, due to multiple emails, I now know I have a wider audience than I thought. So hi everyone!
Okay, that being said, there's another thing I want to say. I know I said I was gung-ho on putting pictures on the blog, but I have since rethought my position. I say this because it changes the way I write. I like trying to describe what happened, because then when I go back and look ath these, I can remember what I thought and how I felt about experiences. But when I start adding pictures, it changes from "He was so close that if I had sighed heavily - or even lightely - he would have felt it" to "here's a picture of the Pope." (Ya, I'll get to that later). So, here's the deal. I'm going to write as if I'm not adding pics, then I may or may not go back in later and add them where appropriate. Does that work? Good.

I always think of so many things I want to write about, but then when I actually sit down to write, my mind goes blank. Ugh.

I guess I'll talk about Bobok and Scoula Teatro Dimitri (STD) a little. STD is David's school, and Bobok is the show they put on. It was really, really cool. I was proud to be associated, even if it was just as the mascot (which they took to calling me). I saw the show a lot, and I loved it each time. The show is physical theater, so it has a plot but it's also a lot more visually stimulating and exciting because all the actors are so able bodied and can do acrobatics and dance and other cool things. Very impressive. And all the kids (ages 21-28) are just so wonderfully friendly and nice. I really enjoyed spending time with them. The last perfromance was at a festival in Rome with schools from all around Europe, and Bobok took first place. Hurray!



After the award ceremnony where STD domiated, there was a big party at an African dance club dinner thing for all the participants. As the mascot, I counted as a participant. Woot woot! The music was. . . loud. Fun for a little bit, but mostly really loud. So a lot of us ended up on the street talking instead of inside where all the noise was. Then an old VW bus drove up playing music. They parked, and we all started dancing. It was . . . awesome. Fun and spontaneous, and the music was quite enjoyable. I felt like I was in a movie. It was one of those movie scenes where you're like, "ya right, that never happens," but then it DOES. Pretty cool.

The next day (today), I went exploring with Charlotte, one of the STD girls. (haha, I think that's a funny acronym everytime I write it). We accidently went to a cool garden with turtles and on-purpose went to the colesieum and some other ruins. Pretty cool. Oh! And we went to the Trevi Fountain. I tried to throw a coin in, but it hit a girl in the front row instead. She screamed and I ducked. Woops. The second coin made it in.



It's kind of crazy to think about - all those coins being thrown in. Three thousand euros a day, can you beleive it?

(break to go play BS/cards with some fellow Berkeley-ins I found. Go Bears!)

(okay, back)

So what I was saying about the fountain, it blows my mind. Not about how much money is thrown in there, but about how many wishes are made. Are you supposed to make a wish when you thrown the coin in? I'm not sure. I think you throw it in to ensure you will return to Rome or something, but I made a wish, just in case. And if I made that mistake, I'm guessing at least a couple of the contributers to the 3000 euros/day did the same. That's so many wishes. So many secret desires that people maybe wouldn't want to voice out loud but would wish on a coin and toss it into the fountain. For me, it was a good reminder that we're all human, all have our own inner dialogue, and all have wishes/hopes/dreams. That's something that I think helps me to see the humanity in people - remembering that they have wishes. I probably should have remembered that when I checked in at the hostel this afternoon and the receptionist was, well, hostile. (Oddly fitting).

Hmm. . . now I'm probably going to be distracted by that. At least for awhile. Wondering, whenever I'm talking to someone, "I wonder what your Trevi Fountain wish would be."

So exploring was great.

Then we went back to the theater to pack up the trailor with all the set stuff and the bus with all the personal stuff.

Then I made everyone take a group picture, and that made me happy.



Then we said our goodbyes. Hugs and kissess all around. And everyone climbed into the bus, and we waved at each other as they drove away.

I couldn't help but think, "Everyone I know in Italy just drove away from me." Then, "I'm alone in Rome." Then, "I'm alone in Rome!"

Think, Macaulay Culkin "I made my family disapear." You know how the first time he says it, he's all sad, and the second time he says it, he's running around the house dancing. That's kind of how it was for me. At first I was sad, then I was excited to be in Rome. Woohoo!

So I checked into the hostel, with the hostel receptionist. Then I went and took the metro (subway) to the Circus Maximus and called my dad. Then I talked to him as I walked around Rome and he followed me on Google maps. Or I should say he lead me. He told me about a cool river that I went and checked out, and it was great to talk to him!



Then I went and got pizza to go and brought it to the Panthenon, where I ate it while sitting on one of the massive columns. So that felt. . . Italian. I mean, I ate PIZZA in the PANTHENON in ROME. Pretty cool, if you ask me.

Also while in the Pathenon, I called my granparents/mom/aunt (they were all at the same house) and got to say happy birthday to my grandma (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRAMMY!!!) and hi to everyone else, so that was great.

Then I wandered around some more, and was on my way to the Spanish steps when I ran into this guy that you've probably never heard of. He's kind of a big deal here, though. Crap, what's his name......oh ya: THE POPE! Yep, he was just strolling down the street. . . with a parade of people singing and guarding him. So I tried to take some pics, then I joined the parade because I realized I had missed the moment by trying to take pictures of it, and I wanted to actually experience being near the Pope. So, I followed the parade. Then they stopped, and I leaned against a car and watched as they sang and danced (jk. they just sang) and did Catholic pope stuff. Then the parade moved again. The problem, though, was that it was headed straight for where I was, and I was pinned against the car and had nowhere to go. I litterally thought, "crap! The pope is going to have to stop the parade because of me!" I was able to slide right before the parade got to me. I must have looked a little frantic/confused, because the bishop(?) in front smiled at me, and I could have sworn he was stifling a laugh. More bishops, more bishops, then the pope. I could have tripped him if I had stuck out my foot, or gotten him sick if I had sneezed. That's how close we were. It was awesome! I feel. . . holy. Is holiness contagious? Ha, I'm just kidding. I don't feel holy. But I DO feel really grateful that I didn't stop the parade or fall on the pope or something. That would have been bad.



Then I used the subway to get back to this hostile hostel, then I took an awesome shower, then I put on gross "I'm going to do laundry tomorrow and this is all I have left" clothes and went somewhere to write this, at which point I got informed that I may or may not have a room here all the nights I need it (which is lame, but not a big deal), then I got annoyed, then I got kicked out of the common room because it closes super early, so I went up to the roof terrace thing to finish writing this, then I met fellow Berkeley people and we played cards and drank wine and it was great. All's well that ends well. Not a phrase I believe in politically, but for tonight, I'll agree.
Other things: I talked to Stuart today too. I feel like mentioning that because: a) it was great talking to him!, and b) I didn't want him to feel left out. Also, you know how in the movies the Spanish steps are all pretty and empty and it's just you and your significant other there. Not the case. People everywhere.



So, ya. I'll go back and put some pictures in now. Ha! You won't even know that they weren't there the first time. Love you all!

Woops, apparently you will. Pictures aren't loading. I'll put them  up tomorrow, but for now, I'm going to sleep. Night!!!

(okay, i just added some pictures, but i'm sick of waiting for each one, so that's all you get. yay!)