Give hugs to strangers.

Okay, I have to take one moment to tell you this amazing story.


Today is a BEAUTIFUL day in Perugia. The sun is shining, the air is crisp and today is a holiday. I'm not sure what holiday it is, but I do know that there were random parades with men dressed in medieval clothes playing trumpets and waving flags and there was a long table set out in the middle of the street giving away free desserts. And I think that's all I need to know.


People were crowding the streets enjoying the beautiful day and students also loitered around enjoying their day off.


Amidst the crowd, I noticed a group of college aged students walking around the crowd with signs. I didn't know what they said since they were in Italian, but i figured that they were just protesting something. So I enjoyed the sunshine, eating free food and watching free entertainment until the rest of my friends had to go to class.

I dropped my computer off at my apartment and headed back out to enjoy the day and run a few errands when two people, a guy and a girl with those signs were headed in my direction. I was thinking to myself, 'i really need to figure out what those say,' when the girl on the left began to look at me and smile. I was a bit nervous at this point, because it is not normal for Italian women to pay attention to strangers on the street.

When she got closer she opened up her arms wide and I suddenly knew what the sign said, "Hug me please." (or something along those lines) And so I gave this cute, cute, Italian woman a hug and it was awesome, it basically made my day. Then she said something to me in Italian but I'm not sure what it was, i think it was along the lines of 'have a good day,' with a smile.

Either way, I think the world could do with simply reaching out more, whether for a hug or smile, you could really make someone's day.
=)
:)
<3

The sights of Perugia

I took a walk this weekend because the rain stopped and the sun came out. Here are some pictures of my town in Perugia, Italy.












This one is my favorite (above).
A cool park that I just found. I went running in it this morning. It's on the end of our street, one minute away!




This is our front apartment door, on top of the stairs.

And the number one hit in Italia is...

Alicia Key's "No One"

I've heard it about one MILLION times since I've been here.

Plus, i was watching MTV Italia today, I saw the countdown again this week, and she holds the number one spot.

I kinda think it's lame. Tell me, is it the same in US? Is this song heard everywhere? Or do Italians just have a strange fastination with Alicia Keys?

Unspoken rules should not be spoken

Besides all that stuff about Florence, here is what has been going on in Perugia. I can't remember if I said that I had been here for three weeks or not but if I did, then it was a lie. I certainly feel like I've been here for about a month, but some girls actually showed me that we've only been here for two weeks, going on three.

I do like it in Europe. I feel at home here, I'm not uncomfortable and I seem to fit into the European lifestyle alright. People often ask me where I'm from and ask me if I'm Spanish or Mediterranean. People at the Leather Market in Florence began talking to me in Spanish and asked me if I spoke Spanish, in Spanish. Some also asked me if I was from South America though.

Our pilot light went off when we got back from Florence, and when Zach tried to fix it, he accidentally turned our heat off. In any case, someone came to fix it, but it isn't regulated at the same times that it used to be so, sometimes it is inconveniently cold in this apartment. But oh well, I adapt and wear sweaters.

So far, I've learned a lot about living on my own. I cook a lot more, (and can do it pretty well, if I do say so myself.) I've learned how to use a gas stove with a lighter and everything. I am learning how to better combine spices and am in the process of learning to make sauces. I know how to invent great dinners with limited ingredients the day before grocery shopping. I can open a bottle of wine and not be afraid of the cork popping up in my face. I know every way to wear a pashnina and keep cozy. I'm an expert at hanging clothes outside to drive or find warm places to put them inside. You know, amongst other things.

I'm just growing up here more than anywhere I've ever been.

Like I said, I like it here; however everything comes with downfalls. I don't want to be Miss Negative, but I feel like I need to express every side of my adventure here. Again, I LOVE it here, but it stinks that I don't know anyone. I get along great with everyone I've met, but this is common for me. I knew I wouldn't have a problem getting along with people, I just had hoped that I would find someone who was a bit more like me.

It's been easy at FPU. At FPU there are just quality people. I love everyone. Here, it is different. First of all, most people are from the East Coast and second, this isn't a Christian University. Needless to say, things are different than at FPU. I'm not complaining and this shouldn't be a huge issue, I'm just stating that socially it is harder to meet people with common interests.

Either way, I'm still pumped for my adventure in Europe.

I talked to a girl here who has got me real excited for travel after school. I think that this past week I was bit by the travel bug, because now I have a strong desire to travel EVERYWHERE possible and to see EVERYTHING possible.

Anyway, enough of my chattering. I just had a strong desire to write today. It's late, and I need to finish reading a book and one more creative writing paper. Goodbye, Ciao, I hope all is well.

Here is my picture of the week.

The woman from Sicily

Her olive eyes peered over the miniature cup of espresso as she asked me, "Why didn't you speak in Italian?"

I turned to the short squash of a woman and with a smile explained, "Because I don't know it!"

It was about 7am on Sunday morning and my friends and I were waiting for our 8 o'clock train back to Perugia from Florence. I decided to go to the station bar (café), arms heavy with bags, to get a cup of coffee and cornette (croissant).

"You don't?" she seemed surprised.

(When ordering my breakfast, I asked the lady behind the counter if she new English, in Italian. Although she didn't I was still able to fumble with the words that I do know.)

"Nope," I answered and then immediately felt guilty—"well, I'm learning, but I don't know much yet."

"Well, I should be talking to you in Italian then!" she said in her confusing accent. (It played strongly of British and a hint of German as I later found out.)

Her salt and pepper frizz infused hair brought back flashes of home and she continued to talk to me in very clear English through her missing front teeth.

There was something that struck me about this lady—or I wouldn't bother writing about her. Immediate (and shameful) impressions would have concluded that she was a bit crazy. However, as I continued in what turned out to be a 30 minute conversation with this lady from Sicily—her razor remarks and outlook on life quite captured me.

And her story:

From what I gathered, this lady was born and raised in Sicily. For one reason or another, she lived in Germany for 30 years and then in England for another 10. (Presumably this is where she was currently coming from.) As she is now in Florence and headed south to Perugia, I can only assume that she was on her way to the famous island of Sicily.

However, this lady has run into a concrete problem.

She is returned to her home country, of which she is so proud, yet the Italians ask her where she is from.

"They asked me if I was from Poland!! ME? From Poland?!!" she scoffed, apparently aggravated. "I'm a foreigner in my own country!"

I could see how offended and appalled she was and talked about this situation of hers for about 80% of our conversation.

It wasn't just once. "They asked me if I had my papers! I was BORN here, I tell them. Me, a foreigner!!"

Traveling alone, back to her 100 year old aunt, back to Italy, her sad eyes told a story of a divorce from her husband. She put her arms up in a what-can-I-do-now way.

The lady from Sicily seemed as though she felt very misplaced. She knew that she belonged somewhere, but was quite unsure of where that was. I felt really bad, but was quite unsure myself—of what to tell her.

I tried to say that perhaps it was her accent that made people think she was a foreigner. It seemed as though she and not considered herself to have had an accent, and this was a great possibility.

"Well, I have lived in Germany for 30 years, so I must sound like it by now," she considered to herself.

"Yes you do," I reassured.

However, for the remaining conversation, this chatty Kathy explained to me why people should not believe in Walt Disney and his version of Pinocchio.

She went on to say that the story of Pinocchio came from Italy and was told the real version as a child.

"But the puppet master was never a mean man, oh no! Don't believe in that cartoon stuff," she told me. "The puppet master was happy that the puppet wanted to go back to his dad."

She said that she had just been to the library in Florence where the fifth edition of the original Pinocchio story was kept. She begged them to let her see it. Eventually they gave her a card and let her touch the "fragile pages" under their supervision.

Anyways—it was certainly an interesting encounter. The woman from Sicily soon thereafter, told me that she must get going before she talked my ear off. It was a surprise to find out that we were both on the same train to Perugia and we did say "Ciao" in the train station after our 2 ½ hour ride home.

The sights of Florence

The homework has started.

Waitin for the train to Florence.
On the train, with 2 roommates in the background.

This is art. I like it, it should go in my garden when I get one.

I was thinking, what if statues could come alive? What would this one say? So I took a picture.


The famous gothic duomo of Florence. If you look at the railing you'll see people and that's where we went up.


In side the duomo, it was so quiet.


We were mesmerized. Until the guard asked us to get up.

470 something stairs later, we made it to the top. Totally worth it.


Italian chick vespa riders are my heroes.
This just seemed poetic. I didn't get a very good angle though.

The Ponte Vecchio is my favorite place in Italy so far.





I found a Russian Italian restaurant and I thought it was so cute!! Especially as it had my name on it!!


I've eaten gelato just about everyday since I've been in Italy.



Their soccer ball fell in the water and I laughed. This kid threw a stick at it just as I took the picture. A few minutes later they got it out though. :)






I adore this picture.
This little girl was the cutest! she wore this brilliant dress over her clothes. I looked at her and smiled and her mom winked at me.

On the Ponte Vecchio.


People make out like there is no tomorrow in Italy. So romantic. Metra and Tina couldn't resist.