A Semester in Siena: A long overdue update

For those of you who may be thinking that I decided to study abroad in Germany instead, rest assured: I made it to Italy! (I've actually been here for 10 days now.) It feels like so much has happened in the past week and a half, and I'm overwhelmed by the thought of condensing it all into a cohesive blog post. So I'm warning you in advance: if you don't feel like scrolling and scrolling to get to the end of this post, feel free to go ahead and skip it. It's going to be a long one. To those who stuck around,

I hope that this collection of my thoughts from this last week will make some sort of sense.

PSA: transition is hard

I don't think I realized how challenging it would be to make the transition from America to Italy. There are so many things about Italy that I already love (the scenery, the history, and of course, the food, to name just a few), but there have also been factors that I didn't anticipate-- or even if I did, I thought I was capable of adjusting to them fairly easily. For example, the language barrier. (I know, I know...obvious, right?) I knew going into this that the language would be challenging for me since I came here not speaking a word of Italian, but what I didn't think about as much was how frustrating it is to feel like I'm the classic dumb American tourist wherever I go. For the most part, the people here have been so understanding and patient with me as I make lame attempts to speak Italian (which sometimes turns into a bizarre fusion of Italian, Spanish, and English), but I have realized how easily frustrated I become with being in an unfamiliar place surrounded by people who speak a different language. (Trust me, Italy: it's not you, it's me).

Additionally, as many of you may know, I am terrible with directions. I consult google maps on the reg, and even with step-by-step instructions I still manage to get lost (it's an accomplishment, really). On the first day of Italian class, Helen and I left an hour early just to make sure we had plenty of time--it's only a 20 minute walk--and not only did we get there 40 minutes late, but we also ended up outside the walls of Siena. And it was raining. Thankfully, our professor was extremely gracious and understanding, but I still felt so incredibly frustrated for most of the day. Instead of being thankful that I even made it to the center at all (and with plenty of help), all I could focus on was my inadequacy with map reading and direction following.

What I'm learning: transitions are typically really difficult for me. I need to have patience with myself, patience with others, and the mindset that while studying abroad is going to be an amazing experience (it already has been...see section below about Marina di Pisa), it's not perfect. Before coming to Siena, I had an idyllic perception of what studying abroad would be like-- which I think is normal (or maybe I'm just saying it's normal so I can feel better about myself). But what I think contributed significantly to this perception was that I have never met anyone who studied abroad and didn't like it. The more I talk to my friends who have studied abroad, the more I realize that they had very similar challenges-- it's just that most people talk about how wonderful everything was and sometimes forget about the hard stuff. And I know that I'm the exact same way-- when I think back to my freshman and sophomore years at Wake, I talk about the wonderful friends I have made, how much I love the campus, memories of late night Cookout runs, etc. I sometimes find myself forgetting about the time I called my mom two weeks into freshman year, crying because I hadn't met any "lifelong friends" yet. Or I forget about how hard it was for me to transition from summer after freshman year to fall of sophomore year. And while I certainly don't think it's a bad thing at all to focus on the good stuff (in fact, I would much rather only focus on the positive), I am just finding that I want to remember it all--the ups, the downs, and everything in between--because I believe that it's important to tell the whole story.

Marina di Pisa: a hidden Italian gem

This past weekend, Helen, Caroline, and I took our first trip. We wanted to go to the beach, and after realizing that a weekend excursion to the Amalfi Coast might be a little too ambitious for our first time venturing outside of Siena, Helen somehow discovered Marina di Pisa. We booked a reservation for two nights at Il Pescatore, what sounded like a quaint B&B near the water (key phrase: what sounded like). In my mind, I was picturing a homey little cottage on the sea, where a sweet old Italian woman would greet us with fresh bread and pasta. I have no idea where any of that came from; I guess I just have a vivid imagination. Anyways, as you have probably figured out by now, my imagination was nowhere close to reality. We took a taxi from the Pisa train station to the "B&B" (note the quotation marks-- I'm using the term "B&B" very loosely here), and when the taxi driver pulled into an apartment complex, I immediately thought he had taken a wrong turn and we were turning around. Think again. He dropped us off in front of an apartment featuring a small sign in the window that said "Il Pescatore B&B." Helen knocked on the door, and we were "greeted" (I am also using the word "greeted" loosely...it was more like "stared at") by a young woman wearing a black t-shirt, camo pants, and heavy eyeliner, with no fresh bread or pasta to be seen. Not exactly the warm welcome we had anticipated. She showed us to our room, gave us the wifi password (it's absurd how excited we get about wifi), and told us that breakfast would start at 8 the next morning. As soon as she left us in our room we all looked at each other, thinking the same thing: What on earth are we doing here? We knew that we would go crazy if we stayed in the room for any extended period of time, especially given that it was 4:30 in the afternoon, but we also had no idea what there was to do in the town-- all we had seen of Marina di Pisa up to that point was the sketchy apartment complex and the feral cats lurking around it.

After we had gotten our wifi fix for the afternoon, we decided to venture outside of Il Pescatore and explore the town. And that's when we discovered the beauty and charm of Marina di Pisa. It really was like magic-- after walking for about a minute we found the actual marina, where there were dozens of sailboats bobbing in the water. It looked like a postcard. There was a walkway that went around the marina, and from there the view of the sea (apparently Italians think it's weird that we say "ocean") was breathtaking. We saw people swimming in the water and wanted to stick our feet in, so we walked over to a little area where the water was shallow. Just as we were about to dip our toes in the water, a British family called out to us not to go any further. They had had the same idea and had all fallen on the pathway because it was covered in algae. Grateful for the warning, we were about to turn around and continue exploring, when all of a sudden an Italian man wearing nothing but a speedo and flippers seemed to appear out of nowhere. "No, no, don't leave! I will help you!" he said. We were all skeptical, to say the least, but after assessing the situation (it was a safe area, and there were plenty of other people around us), we agreed to let him guide us, one at a time, ankle-deep into the water. Our new friend introduced himself as Crazy Henry. And crazy he was. As I've already described, his getup was absolutely insane. And on top of that, as each of us took turns getting in the water while the other two took pictures, he kept saying, "You must take picture to show boyfriend!" I decided against sharing with Crazy Henry that I, in fact, did not have a boyfriend, because that would have just opened a new can of worms, and I did not want him to get the wrong idea. After we all took our turns posing with our speedo-clad friend, we bid Crazy Henry adieu (or "ciao," to be exact), and decided to look for a place to eat dinner. We walked a little ways down the main road and happened upon Seaside Pizzeria. The waiter was moving tables outside, and he told us that every night the street closes at 7 so that people can eat and walk around. We instantly decided that this was the place. Helen and I both got pizza, and Caroline got a calzone. It was good, but what was even better was getting to watch the sunset as well as all of the people walking/running/biking on the street.

After dinner, we wandered around town and saw a gastronomia (deli) called Manzi that looked good, so we decided to check it out for a potential meal the next day. The woman working behind the counter was so sweet, but between our (very) limited Italian and her limited English, we struggled to communicate. She suddenly disappeared to the back and returned with her grandson, Federico, who spoke English in a flawless American accent. When we asked him how his accent was so good, he told us that he learned it from watching Disney channel. We then met his dad, the owner of the deli, as well as his uncle and grandfather, who owned the gelato shop next door. We had so much fun talking to all of them (we mainly talked to Federico, who translated back and forth from Italian to English and vice versa...I envied his bilingualism). Getting a glimpse of what daily life is like for this family was one of my favorite parts of the trip. I remember standing there talking to them and thinking, This is what I wanted studying abroad to be. Sometimes (especially at school) I get so caught up in being surrounded by other people my age, and people whose daily lives are very similar to mine, that when I spend time with people who are in different stages of life, or whose lives look very different from mine, it is so refreshing. But at the same time, it is also comforting to be able to relate to other people, to connect with them, regardless of where they are from-- even if it's something as simple as being familiar with the same Disney channel shows.

Pisa

This is going to be the shortest section of the post. We went to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We took the classic "I'm touching the tower" pictures. It was fun, and I'm so glad I got to see the tower, but Pisa is one of those places I never need to see again. Everything surrounding the tower and the cathedral (which was also beautiful) is so touristy. We were all glad that we just made a day trip to Pisa and were so ready to return to our little beach town oasis by the end of it.

Back to Manzi

That night, we returned to our favorite gastronomia for dinner and to see our friends again. We asked Federico's dad (whose name is also Manzi) what he recommended for dinner, and he told us about several dishes that all sounded wonderful. He taught us that in Italy, pasta is not a main dish, so I had lasagna for my first course. It was some of the most delicious lasagna I had ever had, rivaled only by my mom's recipe. Then for my second course, I had chicken and a side of tomatoes with basil and olive oil. Everything was so fresh-- it was absolutely my favorite meal in Italy thus far. And it was even more memorable because of our newly established friendship with the people who made it.

Taking comfort in taco night

Now I'm going to fast forward to this week. On our way back from our weekend getaway to Marina di Pisa, we stopped at Pam, a grocery store in the Siena train station. You would have thought we found the holy grail. It was certainly no Publix, but it was just so oddly comforting to be in a grocery store that felt like it could have been in the US. We were already so happy to be in a place of some familiarity that when we discovered that they had El Paso brand taco kits, pandemonium ensued. There may have been tears. (Ok, that is a major exaggeration, but we were definitely excited.) We had taco night this week, and it was such a comfort to me to make something that I would have at home. Some other meals we've made this week: chicken with pasta and Caesar salad on Tuesday and salmon with potatoes and sautéed vegetables last night. Major props to Helen for that last meal...she cooked the whole thing, and it was amazing. (Shoutout to Dad: I like salmon now!) My contribution was catching the fish. And when I say "catching" I mean "picking it out at the grocery store."

Conclusion

Well, here we are. Finally, you must be thinking to yourself at this point. That was the longest post ever. I can now go about my day. Except I just realized that by the time I actually post this it will be 3 am at home and 4 am eastern time, so hopefully you are all asleep right now. Hopefully my next post will not be the novel that this one was, but I can't make any promises. I will try not to wait 10 days in between posts, though, mainly because I'm such a slow writer that it takes me forever to recap everything. This weekend, Caroline and I are going to Florence, and Helen will meet up with us there for the day on Saturday. I'm so excited to explore Firenze and to see my friends who are studying abroad there...in the words of Caroline, it's going to be a blast!

Everyone who made it to through this whole thing: grazie for bearing with me. (See?? I'm putting my new Italian knowledge to use!!)

Ciao for now!

Marina di Pisa