Surviving the First Week of Classes

After Greece, I wanted to collapse (especially after that insane ferry ride back). But I had to wake up and go to classes in the morning.

And so began my first week of classes here in Bologna.

Three days of the week, we have class in central Bologna, at the Jesuit center, Poggeschi. It's about a 30 minute walk from where our dorms are - we have to cross over a major bridge and walk through the heart of town in order to make it to classes. And, despite what many people say about Europe being more lax about classes here, we have to be on time to every single class. 

Monday was my first class in Environmental Ethics. However, I had overestimated the time I needed to walk to class, and found myself almost to Poggeschi that morning with two hours before class started. So I wandered off towards the Towers to find the international book store. There, I whiled away a happy hour looking at their (sadly small) English book selection, eventually purchasing copies of Fight Club and a Penguin Classics edition of The Great Gatsby. I continued walking towards Poggeschi, and met some classmates for a lunch of pizza, before class started.

Penguin Great Gatsby - because you can never have too many copies of your favorite book

Our professor for Ethics is extremely energetic - she specializes in Ancient Greek philosophy, and she hasn't taught with our program before, but she's excited to work with us all. And so she went over our assignments for the semester and told us what to expect. 

After class, my roommate and I wandered around Bologna, looking for school supplies. I then returned to Camplus, while she went back to Poggeschi for two more classes. 

Tuesday was my first day for my other two classes, Italian and Art History. Walking into Italian, I didn't really know what to expect. If anything, I was assuming that we would have a core curriculum that would match between each section, so that we would all match up for tests and other group events. What I was not expecting was the sudden influx of Italian and the random words scribbled on the board at a pace so rapid that I couldn't write them down without missing the meaning of another five. The best way to explain the method that they've been using to teach us is this: there's an old way to test if pasta is done by taking it out of the water and throwing at the wall. If the pasta sticks, then it's done. It's almost as if our professors are throwing the words at us to see if they stick, and when they do, they throw more. 

It's slightly overwhelming.

Art history, though, is probably my favorite class. Our professor started the course off by showing us clips from the film Monuments Men, which tells the story of a group of men who worked to save art in Europe before it was stolen by the Nazis during World War II. After the war ended, the men also helped to return the art to its proper place in society. Our reading for the course covers the Renaissance greats and the influence the Renaissance had in Northern Italy and France - because our two trips this semester are to Parma and to Paris. 

Throughout the rest of the week, we trekked back and forth between Camplus and Poggeschi, for classes and events. Friday, however, we had the second step of our permesso di soggiorno scheduled, and so I, along with a large chunk of my classmates, wandered off through town to find the immigration office.

After finding the immigration office (the marker on the map we were given was wrong), we had no idea what to do. We had been told nothing. Two students finally walked into a few doors and asked the people working there if that was where we needed to go. They finally got lucky, but it turned out that the post office had failed to send over some peoples' documents, and so some of us needed to have our appointments rescheduled.

I was one of those people. 

I now have to wait another month before I can complete this step. By the time my final paperwork comes in (which takes a month after my third step), I'll be leaving the country. 

After that disappointment, I needed to do something nice. And my roommate and I managed to do that. Together, we spent our first Saturday in Europe traveling to Venice. We had intended to wander through Murano, Burano, St. Mark's, and the Rialto, and take an evening train home. But we became fascinated by the brightly colored buildings of Burano and the gorgeous lace they sold, and spent longer there than anticipated. So instead of going inside the Basilica, we wandered around the outside, looking at the exterior, and watching the bells chime. We made it back to the train station with enough time to peacefully sit on the steps outside and enjoy some gelato and chit chat.

The piazza on Burano where my roommate and I ate lunch

The exterior of the Doge's Palace in Piazza San Marco

The view from the steps of Stazione Santa Lucia

Luckily for both of us, we already know that we're going back.

Yesterday, I spent a relaxing Sunday sleeping in and catching up on the sleep I didn't get in Greece. After waking up, I did some laundry and homework, and then went with some classmates to Mass at a local parish near Poggeschi. The service was beautiful - run by the Jesuits who live at Poggeschi - and, while it was said in Italian, the songs were in Italian, English, and Spanish. And, for our first Mass in Italy, we also had the chance to witness a baptism - just as moving in Italian as it is in English.

Although it did throw us all off because the order of Mass was a little different than usual.

After dinner with friends last night, and a busy day of classes today, I'm ready to see what happens this upcoming week. Whatever it is, I think I might be ready.

Getting to Know You: Visiting Greece

Part of the way that the study abroad program works is that, before classes begin, all of the students enrolled spend ten days in another country together to learn more about each other and to find out about other cultures.

Our ten day program was in Greece.

Before I went on this trip, I never, in a million years, thought I would be spending time in Greece. Never. I thought the Acropolis would just be a childhood dream, that Delphi would just be a picture in my mind.

But it isn't anymore.

Our trip began with a twenty minute walk to the train station in Bologna, led by our fearless director. That was followed by a two and a half hour train ride, and a ten minute bus to the port. We then boarded a twenty-four hour ferry from Ancona, Italy, bound for Patras, Greece.

The nicely packed backpack, before I boarded the ferry

There are many unkind things that I could say about traveling via ferry - it certainly is not the most glamorous way to travel, and sleeping in an airline chair in a sleeping bag is not my idea of fun. But I appreciated spending time with my classmates learning card games and walking around deck. As the sun set, I was standing on the deck with one classmate, taking photos, and realized finally why Homer referred to the waters in his epics as the "wine-dark sea."

The wine-dark sea

After disembarking from the ferry, we took a longer bus ride to Kilini, where we boarded a second (and much nicer) ferry for the island of Zakynthos. Once we arrived on the island, we took a third bus to our accommodations - the No Name Apartments, run by Polyna and Arsen.

The rooms weren't plush and fancy - the water smelled, the wifi was in and out, and mosquitos were prevalent - but of all the places that we stayed, it felt the most like home. Our hosts made sure to show us the island that they know and love, and they did not disappoint. Our first day on the island, we were taken to a vineyard in the mountains, run by Mika and her husband the same way it has been since the 1600s. They made us breakfast (probably the most delicious breakfast I have had since being in Europe) and showed us around the cellar and winemaking process. Mika also showed us her artwork, which she has been making and selling since she studied at the University in Athens. We were then given the opportunity to purchase some wine from our hosts, which we all took advantage of. Based on the look of surprise on their faces, I don't believe they were expecting all thirty-nine of us to buy wine from them - but how else could we thank them for keeping the traditions alive?

A view of the vineyard and taverna

The original taverna from the 1600s

We walked back into town, where we visited a locally owned co-op, and then bused back down the mountain to an olive oil processing plant, where we learned how olive oil was made on Zakynthos. The company we visited participates in a movement to make olive oil in a more environmentally friendly manner, and so we learned about the differences between former practices and current ones.

Afterwards, we were taken to the highest point in Zakynthos, where we ate lunch and took pictures of the island, before we went into the main town and bought towels for a dip into the ocean at the National Marine Preserve. We had dinner at a local restaurant, where they also brought out two dancers to demonstrate (and teach) Greek dancing.

Zakynthos from its highest point

Our second day, we had a brisk walk to our breakfast through an olive grove, which we stopped for a moment to talk with Polyna and Arsen about their thoughts on the area and the changes occurring in Greece. Both are incredibly hopeful for Greece, although Arsen pointed out that all change must start within one person - and maybe that person is himself.

After breakfast at a local cafe, we visited a local pottery shop and then spent two hours on another beach. We then boarded a turtle boat and sailed off into the beautiful waters for the rest of the afternoon.

Zakythnos is the home of the endangered Caretta caretta sea turtle, and we had the chance to see two of them on the boat ride. We also had the chance to swim in a secluded alcove and on "Turtle Island," where many turtles lay their eggs. We then returned for a Greek barbecue of souvlaki and steak with our hosts.

Caretta caretta sea turtle

The cove that we swam in

As we wrapped up our time on Zakynthos, we circled up into a Socratic seminar circle, and discussed what we loved and what we hadn't liked as much. One classmate put it best when he said that he loved our hosts, but his low point was the roosters that crowed every morning outside our windows.

Early the next morning, we took the ferry back to Kilini, where we met our new guide, Iohanna, and got on a second bus to Arahova, a mountain town that is known for skiing in the winter. We stopped at a local taverna for lunch, and then, after a brief refresher at our hotel (with some of the most gorgeous views I have ever seen in my life), we prepared to hike through the ruins of Delphi.

Know Thyself

I had never expected to go to Delphi in my life. I had thought that it would always simply be an idea, or something that I saw in pictures in textbooks. So when I walked onto the site, I wasn't expecting the feeling of power that covered the area. I might not believe in the Greek pantheon, but they knew something was up when they built their temple. There is definitely something about Delphi, and the longer I stood at the site, the more I felt it.

Of all the areas of Delphi, the one that spoke the most to me was the Theatre of Dionysus. Maybe it's just because I do theatre back on my home campus, maybe it's just because there's something so reminiscent of every gym or stage I've ever seen in its structure, but I felt the need to linger there while the rest of the group hiked up to see the Stadium. I stepped onto the stage itself, standing center, and was completely lost for words. Realizing how close the audience was on this stage is terrifying - they would've been even closer than they are in the black box stage we use back home. And there would have been more, in a ring set up so high that it would almost seem suffocating. I believe my final words as I stepped off the stage was the opening of the Odyssey - "Tell me, O Muse, of the storm-toss'd man." But I might be making that up.

Center stage at the Theatre of Dionysus

After the ruins themselves, we wandered through the museum attached to Delphi. There, I remember turning a corner and gasping because I saw something that (once again) I had only seen in photographs in art history books: The Twins, Cleobis and Biton. These giant statues were perfectly framed by the doorway, and seeing them made me, quite literally, gasp and murmur, "Oh wow." My roommate, standing next to me, shook her head at me.

Cleobis and Biton, The Twins

I proceeded to act in such a dumbfounded manner for the rest of our time in the museum.

Afterwards, we returned to the hotel, and then went into Arahova for dinner, where we walked up an interminable number of steps until we reached our taverna, a local restaurant located near a church dedicated to St. George and famous for its treatments of the local goat cheese. We ate very well that evening (it was worth the steps, believe me) - fried cheese, grilled chicken, meatballs, roasted cheese, zucchini balls, pasta, lamb, French fries and more made their way onto our plates and into our mouths.

The day after we hiked up Mount Parnassus, home of the Muses, companions of Apollo. Halfway up our hike, we met with some shepherds, who fed us a small meal of homemade feta, bread, olives, tomatoes, and cucumbers, along with a yogurt/cheese spread, and showed us how they live with their herd of goats. We continued onward, down the mountain, and spent twenty minutes of the hike down the mountain in silence, contemplating the beauty of the nature around us. At one point, we rounded the bend of the path (which wove back and forth along the mountain), and, although my legs were shaking from walking on uneven ground, and I was ready to collapse, I could not believe the view.

The way up Mount Parnassus

With the shepherds

From the top

After hiking the mountain (and making it safely to the bus), we were rewarded with a lamb roast, hosted by the family of our guide. It was much more than just lamb - they practically prepared us a feast. Tomatoes and cucumbers, feta, spanakopita, dolmades made with stuffed cabbage leaves, and probably the best yogurt I've ever tasted graced the table that day. Filled to the brim, we returned to the hotel, and had the evening to do what we wished. I spent the evening catching up with family back home, taking advantage of the wifi that didn't go in and out and the warm shower and soft bed.

The next morning, we left for Athens. Along the way, we stopped at the small town of Distomo. There, we visited the memorial museum, built to commemorate the people of the village during World War II, who were systematically murdered by the Nazis in 1944. Having worked at The National World War II Museum in New Orleans this summer, I was shocked to hear about this brutal murder of Greek men and women - this was not something I had seen covered in the Museum's archival material when I entered data for them. And so I went into the exhibit completely mind-blown. I left with tears in my eyes and physically shaken. Two images from the exhibit stick in my mind: one, an image of the Nazi soldiers, taken just after the massacre, in which they are all smiling for the camera; the other, an image of a seventeen-year-old girl taken by a TIME magazine writer documenting the event a few years later, prematurely aged by what she has witnessed. How can humanity be so cruel, it makes me ask? How could people do such a thing? Were there any Germans that regretted what they did? And if they truly did, would any of the Greeks truly forgive them?

After Distomo, we visited the monastery of Hosios Lukas. Named a UNESCO World Heritage site, the monastery is absolutely gorgeous. It is home to the first octagonal dome in Western architecture, and holds many priceless mosaics and icons. What I loved about it the most, besides its aesthetic beauty, was the peace the site held. After Distomo, which still feels sad after so much time, a place with such peace was a welcome relief.

Hosios Lukas

Mosaic within the church

From Hosios Lukas, we traveled to Athens, stopping at our hotel and then walking through the historic city to the new Parthenon Museum. The Museum was built in 2004, to coincide with the Olympic Games, and to help expand the original museum, which was inadequately small. The site of the museum is atop a Hellenistic city that is currently being excavated, and visitors can see through the floors of the museum down to where archaeologists are working to preserve new elements of the past.

The Parthenon Museum is filled with items from the Parthenon, but underneath many of them is a simmering sense that the Greeks were robbed by past visitors. Especially painful for the Greeks is the story of the Elgin Marbles, which currently reside in the British Museum in London. Iohanna refers to them as the Parthenon Marbles, and reminded us that they were stolen from Greece. She told us that she is on the committee to have them returned to the Parthenon Museum. Having visited the British Museum (and seen the Elgin Marbles on display there - they were one of the two items I chose to go visit in my short time there), I feel that both museums do justice to the items that they preserve. However, attempting to repatriate ancient marbles seems to bring up the same angry feelings as museums requesting the return of mummies and sarcophagi, for example. I don't think that the issue will ever be fully settled. For the moment, I am content to know that I have now viewed the full set of marbles and that I am a very lucky person to have been able to do so.

We left the Parthenon Museum to walk to our dinner, and passed by the government square. When we arrived, it was filled with a Communist Party rally, holding a peaceful protest for the upcoming presidential election. After a quick discussion, we walked quickly through the crowd and continued on to dinner - another feast, but this time with a view of the Parthenon. During dinner, I had the chance to discuss what we had seen with our director. He took rather a positive view of the protests, but (and I think this is because of my background with French Rev and Russian Rev) I took a more wary approach. I told him that the colors and symbols brought up a lot of negative connotations, and were worrisome because of what they could turn into - and what past experience told me they could become. Not all of those past experiences were positive outcomes. Some were, but not all. I think he was surprised to hear me say that, but he nodded, and we wound up having a conversation about the French Revolution.

The Acropolis, from our restaurant

After dinner, we walked back to the hotel, and I chatted with some friends on Skype and prepared for the next day - the Acropolis.

Unfortunately, I woke up sick the next morning. I had a bad runny nose, a sore throat, and - at one point - a fever. I did manage, however, to make it to our morning meeting with a worker from an NGO and a government official about the immigration and refugee crisis in Greece. Afterwards, however, at lunch, I wanted to curl up on the table and die. One of the other members of the group also felt under the weather, and so we both returned to the hotel while the rest of the group mounted the Acropolis - my dream since childhood. I spent the rest of the day in bed, coughing, sneezing, and keeping my fever down.

The next day, we packed up and left Athens, but not before we stopped at the National Archaeological Museum, which houses the gold dug by Heinrich Schliemann from Mycenae. Schliemann also famously excavated Troy, decorating his wife with gold necklaces he believed belonged to Helen of Troy. We also viewed some famous pieces of statuary, including a bronze statue, the Artemision Bronze, of a man poised to throw either a lightning bolt or a trident - making it either Poseidon or Zeus.

The Artemision Bronze

After leaving the museum, we journeyed on to Mycenae itself, climbing the citadel to view just how perfectly positioned it was in the ancient world.

Mycenae Burial Sites - Schliemann's Dig Site

We left Mycenae, passing over the Isthmus canal designed by Nero, and entering the town of Nafplio, where we spent our last night in Greece. We climbed up to the top of Nafplio's old town walls, looking out at the city below us. Then, along with some classmates, I walked back into town and got some gelato (the best in Greece, made by Italians - of course) and purchased a set of worry beads, for which the city is known. After returning to the hotel, we went to dinner as a group, walking to our final large feast of cheeses, salads, moussaka, and meats together in Greece. The next morning, as others took the late morning to shop and swim in the rocky waters, I took the chance to get some much needed rest (since I was still sick). Not long after, we packed up and boarded our bus for Patras, to board our ferry for Ancona - and Italy.

Nafplio

Our ferry ride back home was not nearly as smooth and easy going as our first. Due to a mistake by the travel agent, we had all been booked for deck seats - meaning we would have to sleep outside - instead of airline seats. The crew of the ship were incredibly unkind to us for the entirety of the trip, scolding us for sitting in areas without buying anything (simply because it was air-conditioned) and telling us not to sleep on the floors or anywhere we had not been ticketed for.

In other words, if we were not outside, we were not to be seen on ship.

By the time we landed in Ancona, the entire group had written horrible review cards for the ship and crew, and were incredibly grateful to be close to Bologna again.

After an uneventful train ride, and a quick walk back, we all returned to Camplus. All that's left for me to do now is catch up on my laundry (which will take a while, sadly).

Mainly, what I got from this trip was a new closeness to my classmates. Not only did I get a chance to put names with faces, I received the opportunity to chat with everyone and learn who they were. I got to really know people who both go to school with me and those who don't. In fact, I spent more time with students who go to other schools than I did with my own classmates from back home. Each night, there was engaging conversation, laughter, and smiles.

But I'm not sure that I've summed up Greece properly. Because, you see, you really can't summarize what I saw with words. Or with images.

There is a quote from Donna Tartt's novel The Secret History that best summarizes the emotions I have coming back from Greece: "...it had the quality of a memory; there it was, before my eyes, and yet too beautiful to believe."

αποχαιρετισμός, Greece. ευχαριστώ.

Farewell, Greece. Thank you.

Sunset in Nafplio

New Climes, New Times: The First Few Days in Bologna

It has been a wild couple of days so far here in Bologna! Unlike some of my classmates, my flights over to Europe were uneventful (except for the guy on the flight from Atlanta who wanted to get off, decided not to, and was forcefully evicted from the plane with a police escort along with his baggage who kindly delayed us twenty minutes from departure and caused us to have to return to our gate). All of the airports were nicely run and clean (especially Amsterdam - everything looked so nice and pretty there, except the dark rain clouds that were gathering on the horizon!), and, along with my three other classmates, we made it to Bologna right on schedule.

Amsterdam Airport from my seat at the gate

Taking my first taxi to the Camplus, where I'll be living for the next three months, I was really excited to start off my time here. However, after an entire day of not sleeping (I was only able to catch a few winks on the flight from Amsterdam to Bologna - the flight over the Atlantic was probably the most uncomfortable airplane that I have ever tried to sleep on) I was in desperate need of sleep and a decent meal. Despite my jet lag, I soldiered on, and followed our director, Dr. Waller, on a tour of Bologna, visiting the downtown portion of our campus (at the Jesuit center) and the main piazzas, along with the symbolic heart of the city, the two bell towers. We had an hour break upon our return to the Camplus, during which I chatted with some friends and wondered whether I should take a nap to alleviate my jet lag (I didn't). And so, after a meeting about everything that we would need to know for the semester about living on Camplus (which I unfortunately mostly slept through, due to my jet lag finally hitting me), I ate my first meal in the cafeteria, or mensa. I have never had such delicious pasta before in my life (although that's probably due to the fact that I was exhausted and would've eaten anything set in front of me). Afterwards, I unpacked my clothes, and took a well-deserved rest.

The Two Bell Towers at the heart of Bologna

Waking up the next morning, I realized that I had a combination of a dehydration headache and a migraine from lack of sleep. I was nauseous, and spent the time that I should've been going downstairs and eating breakfast curled up on my bed and trying not to cry. My roommate came back in, and together we walked downstairs to fill out our paperwork for our permesso di soggiorno.

In order to remain legally in the country for the next three months, all of the students here not only must carry visas, but also have a permesso, or a permit to stay. This pretty much entails filling out a lot of paperwork telling the government in Italy that we are not, in fact, going to be sleeping on park benches while we live here, and that we will be doing something productive with our time. It also makes us legal (temporary) residents - and if we lose it, we have to report its loss, and go through the entire process again.

What we did yesterday was only the first step of the process - we took the paperwork to the post office, paid a boatload of euros, and received an appointment for the next step (getting fingerprinted) and our document that we must carry everywhere.

After getting my permesso done, I came back to my room and slept until 5:15. I was so dead tired and thirsty that I didn't mind that I was missing lunch. I just needed the sleep, and I'm glad that I took the chance. We had a second meeting that evening, at the Jesuit center, about travel planning, school organized trips, and our ten day trip coming up, which will take us to Greece. We were also fed pizza, made by a friend of the school's, who owns a pizza restaurant right across from the Jesuit center. I may not enjoy eggplant normally, but the eggplant pizza I had was absolutely delicious - and so was the sausage, cheese, and zucchini pizzas that we also tried. One table also had the American style pizza - French fries and hot dog slices on top of a cheese pizza. That seems a little unusual for me, but I'm sure I'll find myself eating it before my time in Europe ends.

After the meeting, I joined some students from Santa Clara University as they wandered through downtown Bologna. We split momentarily, some of us to get gelato and others to get drinks, but we joined back up and wandered past the towers and into Piazza del Nettuno and Piazza Maggiore. After chatting for a while, we meandered back towards the central piazza of the University of Bologna campus, Piazza Verdi, and split off - the guys to go out towards a bar, and the girls to head back towards the Camplus. After getting back to the dorm, I got the chance to talk to my mom, and then got into bed (after making the horribly sad discovery that our once clean water was now extremely metallic and reeked of rust and pipes).

The Fountain of Neptune, Piazza del Nettuno

This morning, I've made it down to breakfast (the coffee is incredibly strong - we're pretty sure that the machine is broken, because the cappuccinos had no milk in them whatsoever) and down to the Co-op, our nearby grocery store. I'm now waiting to take my Italian placement test, and then, once some other friends take theirs and others get back from their permesso work, we'll be going out to get some lunch and go shopping. Time to take Bologna by storm.

Next stop: Greece.

Cattedrale de San Pietro, Piazza Maggiore, Bologna

A Brief Announcement

Hello, readers!

This brief announcement is to inform you all that I will be adding a new layer to my blog for this upcoming semester: I will be using this blog as a place to record my experiences studying abroad.

I'm looking forward to my time in Europe with my classmates, and I can't wait to share my time abroad with everyone!

If you are merely looking for my book reviews, historical nonsense, or literary madness, fear not - those will also continue. The posts about study abroad will all be tagged "study abroad," so feel free to ignore them if you are uninterested.

Thanks!

Your friendly blogger