All caught up

Last week was what we all lovingly referred to as our “real school week.” Basically, we hadn't had any homework or work due for our class (possibly because we had a trip every weekend), so everything that we had was due last week. First, we had an exam where we had to recognize 80 art images from the Renaissance. Then the next day we had a partner presentation on one topic from the small side chapel that is in the Duomo (my group had the figure of Orpheus) and that was our last day of class together. Our paper was due the next day by seven (because we don't have class on Fridays), but if you were leaving, which quite a few people did, or if you wanted to participate in the pirate party, you had to be finished earlier than that.

Pirate party? Oh, yes, we had a pirate party! Matt's little son, Ronan, was turning 4, so they invited some of their friends (most of whom we knew from our first party here) to come celebrate. So, the 12 of us college students who were still here all decked ourselves out in pirate gear and prepared for an afternoon of pirate songs, games and activities. We walked away from that party, tattooed, tired, but thankful for having been able to share in the day.

Saturday and Sunday were wonderfully restful. I got up late, walked to the farmer's market (where I got a sweater – hopefully my final winter weather purchase!), and then made my way to lunch. After lunch a few of us walked with our new professor and her 7 year old daughter to the Duomo (where there was a wedding going on) to give her her first taste of Italian gelato. Then Katy and I visited Orvieto Scala (the part of town that is below the cliff) in attempt to get me a sim card, but it turned out to be a failed mission. We made it on the funicolare (the little bus/tram thing that takes you straight down the mountain on mechanical wires) and off, paying the correct fee and avoiding complete scorn from all the locals. It was when we stepped out of the station that we made our fatal mistake: we did not look at any sort of map. From the way people described it, it sounds like a completely walkable and doable town without any need of directions...not so much. We walked to the left, quickly discovering that even this part of town (the “newer” part) observed riposo, meaning that we would not find an open store for about an hour. Undaunted we continued on in hope of finding the large grocery store everyone speaks of. Then we ran into the bridge. The bridge that the train tracks run over and cars run under, leaving no room for a pedestrian to step without getting slammed into the side of the rocks. Well, needless to say, we were at a dead end. The final straw, however, was in walking back up to the top of the street where we found one open store with Asian owners, who only spoke Italian, completely not understanding our limited vocabulary. Defeated we trudged back to the funicolare, rode it back up the mountain, filled with disbelief in the people who had made our visit sound so easy.

The rest of the night was spent getting gelato and meeting some random woman at the Duomo and then coming home and reading (A Thousand Splendid Suns – excellent read). At least the beginning and the end made up for the hour misspent in the middle.

Sunday a group of us went to the Duomo for a Bach concert on the organ. I sat with little Amelia (apparently making it on Italian television – according to a storeowner we know anyway) who, when asked if she enjoyed the hour long concert said, “Well, I didn't really pay attention.”Oh the honesty of children! We spent the afternoon entertaining Amelia, taking her to lunch for spaghetti, putting together a puzzle, drawing, etc... That night the convent filled with life as the rest of the group returned home from their various trips ravenous and with fun stories to share. And then, after eating a wonderful meal of pesto pasta (which should be served all the time), our restful weekend was over and the real work began again.

Poetry. Yes, that is what I have gotten myself into. But so far, I am enjoying it very much – more than I even thought I would. Basically we have to read and write poetry (novel concept, I know) as ekphrasis – that is based on another piece of art. Maybe at the end of the class I'll share some of those poems here, but first they must get put to the test of my peers in a group workshop. And that is essentially what has taken my time since then. I do some classwork, walk around a bit, read, and try to find some small way to engage in Italian life.

On the whole, not bad.