Sunsets. Friends. And Chanting Monks.

Roommates
A Tuscan Sunset

Four of the roomies

We hiked the steep slope on the other side of the Arno for an evening to watch the sunset. On our way over we shopped at the German Christmas Market that was set up in the Piazza Santa Croce, got some gelato, then headed up the hill. The view was gorgeous, one to remember. We hung around the flat steps laughing together, taking candid shots, and marveling at the colors in the sky and the greenery of the countryside right outside of the city. After the sun set, we hiked even higher up to San Miniato to hear the monks chant their daily prayers. Inside was dark with small flickers of candlelight in the corners. Under the main alter were stairs leading down to a smaller chapel, there they began to chant while churchgoers chanted in response. It was beautiful. We must have sat there for at least an hour, absorbed in our own private thoughts. The experience with nature, then God, is one I will always refer back to when I'm "homesick" for my Italian home. Nothing can compare to the extravagance of God outside, but also the quiet contemplation of a cathedral that has been there for centuries and will continue to be there even after I'm gone from this world.

Buon Natale con Firenze (Merry Christmas with Florence)

My favorite sculpture on the Loggia near Piazza Signoria.



Christmastime is here!

The streets at night

I am enjoying my last weeks here, going to my favorite museums and restaurants, walking down my favorite streets and piazzas, trying to soak it all in while dodging puddles and icy raindrops. Florence in December is wet and empty; it kind of reflects how we're all feeling as we get ready to leave a place that has warmed up to us and treated us like we're family. Florence will always be a home to me, a place that I grew in, where I was stretched.

All of us in the apartment are in a frenzy as we study for finals, finish up projects, and pack our stuff that seems to grow every hour due to last minute souvenir shopping. All reason as left us. We are like tourists, here for a week, as we scramble around trying to see everything just "one last time."

Today: shopping

Tomorrow: museum crawl

Sunday: gelato crawl

Monday: the finals start!

Next Friday: I leave :( / :)

Italy is taking up space in my Heart

I have so much emotion pinned up inside me. I keep thinking about my last month here in Italy and all that is still on my list of things to see and do.



I have dreamed about this year for so long--planning and re-planning--and now it is on the verge of being over. My time with YWAM. My time in Italy. I have achieved them. I have experienced them. They have changed me, and hopefully, I have done something to change them as well.



Life moves too fast for me. I am now twenty-one and I keep thinking about my short month I spent in the south of France with Sandra and her family two years ago. Could it really have been that long ago? I was eighteen and I hadn't started college yet. I hadn't applied for YWAM or Italy; they were still just dreams. I hadn't known Kat or Leah yet. I hadn't dated anyone yet. My grandfather was still alive and proud of me. Death was not a reality yet. My brother hadn't hit his growth spurt yet. He was still my 'little' brother. So much has happened in just two years. What will happen in just two more? Italy will be a memory, a fond one, but only a memory still. My five roommates will be spread out around the country. Time and distance will have their effects on us. How could that be possible? The girls I traveled around Europe with, the ones that will be spread throughout my scrapbook?



I'm not ready to give it all up yet. I am carefully balancing on the edge of a sword. If I am not careful, I could stay here forever. I can only romanticize about Italy for so long. The real thing is much better than my dreams. It is passionate. My experiences with Italy are never dull. One day I slip in a puddle of mud and get yelled at in Italian at the Post Office. The next I'm sipping a cappuccino with Francesco and listening to him talk about art. A week later I'm in the Uffizi at dusk watching as smoke rises from the villas across the Arno. The next day I am cursing Italy because her wireless connection is keeping me from talking with my family.



I love Italy. But I also hate her. I adore the sound of her language, but I hate that I'm not picking it up easily. On the train I marvel at her scenery--her diversity and lush greenery even in autumn. But I abhor that all trains to Venice are usually sold out making it difficult to get there and shortening my stay altogether. I love two of my classes--Hidden Meaning in Renaissance Art and The Italian Grand Tour--but the other two are a bit dry--Archaeology Workshop and The World of Museums. I am so thankful for our apartment and I love the family who owns it and works at the front desk. But it makes me sad that they keep up their formal fronts, even with us. They have made us pies, given us jelly and almonds, and licorice. I am going to miss them, but even more, I am going to wish that our relationship went deeper than them giving us our keys every time we come home. I will most definitely miss the pizza boy who waves every time we pass--coming and going to our apartment. But again, I will wish it was more than just a wave and the occasional, "Ciao Bella!" or "Dove andata?".



My heart is always happy when I'm in the little nook between the Uffizi and Piazza Signora when the guitarist is playing my favorite song. It is somber and sad, but beautiful. When it is cloudy above and puddles sit between the stones, and the Piazza is deserted except for a few locals and the occasional tourist; a couple sits on the loggia kissing while whispering secrets behind the music. The sculptures on the loggia glow in the setting sun, the Roman soldiers' passion and the women's pain are amplified in shadow. They have been here for centuries, they have seen every kind of tourist, they know so much, yet, here, in the Piazza when no one is around to witness it, they come alive and relive their experiences for us who watch closely.









"You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you." -Frederick Buechner

What I've been up to...in pictures.

On top of the bell tower in the Umbrian village, Orvieto
Flowers for sale in Nice in the French Riviera
A sunrise in Florence (yes, I woke up before dawn!)
A sunrise in France, by the Meditteranean
Contemplating in Cortona (about buying a villa like Frances Mayes!)

New Zealand. Amsterdam. The States.

Last night I had a wonderful time hanging out with three other women who are currently living in Florence. It was supposed to be a planned "hang-out" time with some of the people who go to Florence Gospel Fellowship (a small church I found that reminds me of the little church we worked with in Phang Nga, Thailand) But, after waiting in front of the church doors for 45 minutes, we decided we would do something on our own. The reason we waited for so long was the fact that we were all on different times..I was thinking like an American who would only wait about 15 minutes top, while the others were thinking like Italians who would wait much longer because they are usually late anyway! Then we weren't sure who we were waiting on...would they be thinking like Americans or Italians? If they were the former then they would have come and gone already or just stood us up. If they were the later then we should wait as long as we could possibly stand, since there's no telling when they would show up. Do you see our dilemma?

After our wait we meandered over to the famous gelato, Vivoli. I had chocolate mousse, which was heavenly. Then we went up to one of the girl's apartments to chat over tea. (I felt very English in Italy with three people who were neither of those nationalities).

The more I meet people living over here, especially people in their 20s, I realize that it really isn't abnormal to move out of your homeland. Europeans, I think, are more at ease with this concept. Tinika, who is originally from Amsterdam, quit her job to move here to learn the language. She is at least in her late-20s and didn't think twice about the move. Now she speaks exceptional Italian (along with Dutch, German, and English) and is currently looking for a job to stay. Carrie, who is a New Zealander, is possibly in her early-30s and has lived in NYC, England, Germany, and Italy over the past decade (and also speaks multiple languages). She is going for her Doctorate and often lectures in Germany. I think she cycles through Cambridge, Germany, and Florence on a regular basis. And Mary, who is a fellow American, is here for her Master's in Art History. She studied abroad here for her BA and became an Au Pair after she graduated. She kind of has a long history with Italy-often coming back for months a time.

All this to say that I think we over in the "New Land" have the wrong idea about an "ordered" life. I feel that most of us have a phobia of not doing things in order-College, Career, Marriage, possibly another degree, Children, a loonnngggg gap in between, Retirement, then death. Who says it has to be like that? Being over here has really helped me see different lifestyles and attitudes about life. I've said this before, but I am always amazed by Europeans devotion to family and friends. They don't worry about career or money. On the contrary, most Italians are just making it by. Yet they believe in no higher being than themselves. It's a bit backwards really, and yet totally universal. Another proof that God is not "Christian" but Universal. Most Italians may not believe in God, but with their very actions and tendencies towards goodness and truth, they prove his existence without even knowing it.

PS: I got my absentee ballot! I'm voting abroad, yay! I hope all of you are voting as well, wherever you are. ;)

Busy in Slow Motion

Well, I've been here for a little over a week and already it seems like I've been here forever. As most of you already know, I arrived here on my 21st birthday and without any luggage. Thankfully, it was only about 24 hours that I had to live without any other clothes or shampoo!

Last weekend my new roommates and I ventured up the hill and into Fiesole. The view from above was wonderful! I keep thinking back to the book I read this summer, A Room With A View by E.M. Forster. The subject of having a view seems to come up quite often in Florence. Everywhere I look visual pleasures distract my eyes. If I wasn't scared of being run over by a speeding Vespa I would have my head cocked at an angle looking up continuously. But, the streets are packed with people and the sidewalks are only about two feet wide. The other day I actually got splashed by a dumped bucket! The Indian-Italian man apologized, but I couldn't help thinking about how Florence probably hasn't much changed since Medieval times.

I have now gone to all of my classes at least once. It is going to be a very comical semester because all of my Professors have limited English--some more than others. They are very enthusiastic about the subject they teach, waving their hands in a frenzy. But I still don't feel like I'm at school though. I suppose it's because I'm in a different country and I'll be traveling every weekend and all but one of my classes will be visiting museums on a regular basis! For instance, my World of Museums class meets once a week and all but three of the lessons will be in a museum in Florence!

I have done so much in the past eight or nine days that I have trouble remembering all that I've done. Last night we went out to dinner ON OUR SCHOOL! It was a little restaurant down by the Arno River. They had tables set outside along the bank. Under a terrace a long table was set with meats and cheeses and wines and figs and bread and other unique foods (that I have no idea what it was). It was wonderful! The other evening we all went to the Piazza Santa Croce to celebrate the birth of the Virgin Mary with the Italians. They had a great brass band and lots of paper lanterns. We danced our way through the streets, past the Duomo, and into another piazza across town. It was so much fun! Some of the band were really cute too! My roommate, Kristen, and I picked out our favorites...and of course mine had long hair! haha

Tomorrow we go to Siena, then Saturday and Sunday we go to Pompeii, Capri, and Sorrento!
And next weekend we're going to the Florence vs. Bologna soccer game!

Fiesole

Fiesole gives a gorgeous view of Florence! (look for the Duomo behind me)
A view of the Florentine valley from the church in Fiesole.






Thoughts on Florence:

The city is still hot and sticky from the summer heat. Tourists still crowd the Duomo and the surrounding area. Their heads always turned upward while keeping their bags close in front. Little flags are seen bouncing down streets as far as the eye can see. The Florence I visited four years ago hasn't much changed. Yet September brings the hope of a city I have not yet explored. A breeze picks up every now and again, proving that fall is coming. After dusk, when the tourists have all left for the day and the shops on the Ponte Vecchio are closing their doors, the city begins showing its softer side. The pale pinks and greens that adorn the Duomo give off a glow that only comes with the night's lights and its shadows. The city slows down. There are empty gaps in the piazzas that only hours before were filled with lines and groups of people. This is another glimpse of Firenze in autunno.

First Impressions of Firenze

My small plane from Munich to Florence (the one that didn't carry my luggage)
Recognize this boar from Hannibal with Anthony Hopkins?

The Uffizi Gallery.
Ponte Vecchio.


My 21st Birthday dinner with my new roomies on the steps of the Duomo!