Buon Giorno, Italia

Whenever I think my time studying abroad couldn’t get any cooler, I am quickly corrected. As part of my program I went to Rome, Italy for the weekend with half of my study abroad group, and was able to spend time seeing the center of the art world if only for a few days. We took a bus to Malaga on Friday and flew to Rome from there, stayed until Monday afternoon and then flew back. At first I was nervous I wouldn’t have enough time to see everything, but surprisingly it was just the right amount.

The first full day in Rome we took a panoramic bus tour (no, not the buses you sit on top of, although that would’ve been nice) to see all the great sites. Our guide spoke over the speakers in our bus, and I don’t think anyone actually heard what he said the first five minutes. Not because it was hard to hear him, but because everyone was giggling at his accent. I know, immature, right? Well, not that I didn’t giggle a little, too. “Good’a morning’a. We’a are agoing’a to’a start’a our tour at’a the so-called’a Coliseum’a and’a end’a at’a Saint’a Peters’a.”
Our guide was very informative, and went in depth in describing the history and present use for each building and area we crossed in Rome. If you have ever taken an Art History course, it is just mind-boggling. I have seen slide after slide of artwork and churches and sculptures in Rome and although I always wanted to see them up close, it was hard to believe when I actually was. I suppose it’s like seeing a celebrity, only far more acceptable to stare at and run up to.

Rome pretty much blew my mind architecturally. I felt like an ant in this city with monstrous sculptures and massive buildings that although aren’t much bigger than any in many other cities I’ve been to, are massive in their design. Large chunks of marble or other stones comprise huge ledges and friezes in fronts of buildings that although look extremely important, can be used for something quite simple. Not only are the buildings massive and in a style I’ve only seen in history books, but also modern and ancient are grouped together in a way that makes B.C. buildings stand out in such a peculiar fashion. For instance, on our second day we walked through the narrow winding streets of ristorantes and designer clothes, only to stumble onto the Pantheon, a building from 2nd Century A.D, once a pagan temple. The buildings stick out like Titans with their style and aged stone. They are beautiful yet strange in their co-existence.

That first day, I didn’t know how to feel about Rome. Here we were seeing massive beautiful constructions, some dating back to B.C. or early A.D., and at the same time there were seas of tourists, men dressed as Gladiators, people selling cheaply made yet expensive souvenirs, and every language on earth being spoken at once. I was a tourist, yet I hated the idea of tourists, and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in Rome.
People pushed by you on the street, peddlers came up with sun glasses and postcards saying “Good price, good price,” and I thought, “Where is Italy? Where is Rome? This can’t be Rome.” The postcards showed pictures of monuments standing proudly and alone, yet in reality each place was swarmed with mobs of people and it was hard to get from A to B. Large cities with a lot of people in it is nothing compared to large cities with tourists. And we weren’t even there in high season! To say the least, I was overwhelmed.

We had our guide for half of the morning, and the rest of our time in Rome was up to us on how we wanted to spend it. Over the morning we saw the Coliseum, the Imperial Forums, too many famous churches to count, and ended at the Vatican. To see this place in person is wild. The most expensive church and one of the most powerful religious leaders in the entire world, along with a museum that holds some of the most famous works of art. The place was of course mobbed with a massive line leading to the church. Our guide pointed to the window of the Pope’s bedroom and office, and I wondered if he ever got to go outside to walk around aside from his public appearances.

We walked to the Museum, which is attached to the church, and had absolutely no lines at all. We bought a ticket with an amazing student discount that practically cut the ticket cost in half, and spent our next five hours at the St. Peters. The museum is massive, holding paintings and sculptures from some of the most famous artists from the Renaissance era, as well as relics from ancient Egypt, mummies, a moon rock, and of course, the Sistine Chapel. Probably one of the best parts of the museum was not knowing what was next. I would walk into a room and suddenly see a piece of art I had studied in class. At one point I gasped, just from the shock of seeing a work of art so famous and I hadn’t expected it. Quite lovely.
Of course, the church was absolutely beautiful and massive. However, the only thing that made me feel it was special was the fact that it was the Vatican. Yes, it was impressive, but it wasn’t so elaborate and outstanding that I thought it was the most beautiful church ever. I did pay Peter’s pence and said a small prayer, and then immediately afterwards said, “Oh my GOD!” when looking at something. Caroline had to jab me to remind me, we were indeed in one of the holiest places on Earth. Yeah, pretty sure I’m going to hell for that.

In hindsight, probably my favorite part of the church itself, not counting the museum, was seeing the former Popes’ tombs. Caroline and I got to see the tomb of Pope John Paul II, and many people stood around solemnly praying, as well as dropping pictures, letters, and flowers on his tomb. Pictures weren’t allowed, but it was a very simple tomb, with its only decorations being the prayers of visitors.

As most of you know, I got to visit Italy a year ago with my boyfriend Justin. We went to Florence, Pisa, and Venice, seeing everything we could possibly see and watching our wallets so we could afford our train tickets and housing. It was also not long after I had found out I was gluten-sensitive, so it was a struggle for both of us as we tried to find food for me. It was quite the adventure being in a country that neither of us knew the language, finding monuments and gluten-free food at the same time. It was my first time in Europe and we both knew we would be back to Italy when we could afford a bigger meal here and there. People don’t normally think they will leave Italy thinner than when they went, but that was how Justin and I were after our trip. Now, being with a study abroad group with my housing and transportation already covered, I had plans for how my second trip to Italy would be. Plan #1, eat lots and lots of food. Plan #2, eat lots and lots of gelato. Plan #3, leave Italy fatter than when I came.

If Italy is known for anything it’s the food and the people. I have never met nicer people on Earth than the Italians I met in the ristorantes we ate at. Our second night in Rome, Caroline, our friend Maureen and I went to a place close by that wasn’t gluten-free, but helped us in picking dishes we wouldn’t have problems with. The owner loved us. His name was Gionni, and I think he especially loved our friend Maureen. Small blondes get a lot of attention in Italy and Spain! Gionni was very nice to us, poking fun at us, laughing with us, checking on us often, and giving us a free drink of Limoncello, a strong and popular Italian liquor. It was exactly how you see people enjoying themselves in Italy on TV. It was so perfect and we kissed him goodbye saying we would send more people to his ristorante.

The next night, Caroline was bound and determined to find some gluten-free pasta while we were in Italy. So we found an Internet café, and sure enough Caroline found a place only a few blocks away! We went to the ristorante and asked them personally if they indeed had gluten-free food. The waiter told us they had it all, from pizza to pasta to dessert. Caroline and I made a reservation and ran away jumping and skipping and cheering for food!
Four of us went to dinner and we were all excited for some great food. The cuisine was absolutely amazing, and Caroline and I had a hard time suppressing our excitement and happiness. Caroline ordered a margherita pizza, and I ordered pasta with pesto and we shared. Hands down, the best pesto I have ever had in my entire life. Caroline and I were practically hugging the waiter telling him how happy we were. We also bought a bottle of wine to share between the four of us and Caroline and I had GF tiramisu for dessert. Our waiter at this ristorante loved us, too, and he was much younger and cuter. He and another waiter brought out three rounds of shots of Limoncello for us and took them with us. After dinner he invited us out for drinks at a bar across the street. His name was Stefano, and over drinks he told us he was a theater actor and performed in his own plays as well as in musicals. He brought along some of the other workers from the ristorante, and we all talked about Italy and the U.S. and politics, etc. Some of his friends didn’t speak as much English, but it was fun all the same. He bought us all a round of grapa, the most terrible tasting alcohol on Earth made from grapes, and we all shuddered and shook our heads after taking it. After the bar closed, Stefano walked us back to our hotel so we wouldn’t have to walk alone and he said goodbye to us at the door. Very gentleman like, and he was definitely one of the highlights of our trip.
Of course, we did many other things than just look at monuments and eat. Well, kind of. I ate gelato at least two times a day, trying to get my fill of all of the flavors. We walked, and walked, and walked some more. We also went to the Sunday Market with two of our program directors, Carmen and Kristin, which was really nice because we got to practice Spanish, and I got to know them a lot better. Kristin and I bought authentic Italian Army satchels which reeked and reminded me of my Dad’s hunting gear, but very cool all the same. The market seemed to stretch forever with booths, but I kept buying to a minimum and focused more on the experience.

And, I did find Rome. Once I got lost in the backstreets and away from the tourist traps, I peered into windows of classic Italian Ristorantes and heard bands play in the squares while people sat on the verandas and enjoyed their pasta, I knew I was in Italy. All of my plans followed through perfectly; I came, I saw, I ate, and my pants are fitting a little bit tighter. My only wish was that Justin could’ve been there to indulge with me on the food. Although I would like to see as many countries as possible and experience new and different cultures, I think I will always want to return to Italy. Who would like to join me?

Ciao bella!
Adios.

Hola, me llamo Amanda. Soy libre de gluten.

How do you begin a blog that is the first of many on an experience that cannot be compared to any other? I am currently in Granada, Spain, and so much has happened since I left the States last week, I don’t even know where to start. I have already seen many famous buildings in Madrid, spent time with a friend from Challis (yes, in Madrid) visited landmarks in Spain that go back to the 14th century (and seen art and books as old as 2000 years old), hung out in Holy Toledo, been given LOTS of bread, and gotten lost. I’m realizing that it will be impossible to tell you in detail all the amazing things I’ve seen so far, but I will try to give you the jist.

The program I’m in has about seventy-seven girls, and eight boys. We are the most enormous group of American tourists, even split in half. While in Madrid we stayed in the Hotel Moderno, which in proper European fashion, only had two elevators
which held about one person plus their luggage. And when it comes to traveling to Europe and having seventy-seven girls together, that means a lot of luggage. I mean, so much luggage my program had to rent a van to haul our extra bags because they didn’t fit on the two buses we had. However, the Hotel was beautiful and in the very center of Madrid, which made it easy to get around and see some of the best sites.

Madrid is beautiful. It has such a different, yet familiar feel to it. It is a bustling metropolitan with ads covering skyscrapers and department stores that are eight floors tall, thousands of people within a few blocks, and noises coming from all directions. Yet it has narrow winding cobblestone streets that take you to small shops, cafés, and locally owned restaurants. This part reminds me of Italy, but there are many things about Spain that are very different (aka, toilets that aren’t holes in the ground.)

While in Madrid, we visited the Royal Palace of the former Kings and Queens of Spain, which of course was ridiculous. At least it felt ridiculous as I walked through an enormous palace with ornate decorations, furniture, paintings, and rooms for dressing, rooms for sitting, and rooms for talking. It is hard for me to imagine kings and queens and their lives. These are things we only hear about in fairytales.

That same day we also visited the Museo del Prado, which holds famous works from Greco and Goya. We had an extremely enthusiastic tour guide who spoke mostly Spanish, and very slowly, so it was nice since it was our first day immersed in the language. I would’ve loved to have spent hours in the museum, but we spent over an hour there, and our stomachs were growling, and our heads drowsy from jet lag.

Which brings me to tell you about food in Spain. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the schedule, but at least I am able to find food I can eat. In Spain, they have a light breakfast, a two-course lunch with fruit, coffee, and wine that usually starts around 2pm, and a light dinner starting at 8pm at the earliest. And I’ve been informed, “Spaniards don’t snack.” Don’t snack? My life is comprised of snacks. I am trying to conform to the culture here, but I usually end up starving before the next meal comes.

The good thing has been being able to share the gluten-free experience with someone. My new roommate, Caroline, is GF too.
In Madrid we went to almost all our meals together, collectively impressing upon our waiter that we indeed, could not eat wheat or anything like it. It’s very different for me to go from “I can’t eat gluten,” to “We can’t eat gluten.” Or, in other words, “No puedo” turns into “No podemos.” And although we continually explain, we somehow still end up with bread on our plate. Bread in place of the real food we asked for. Bread put on top of the food we requested “sin pan.” It got to the point where all we could do was laugh. When we said the word gluten, we were looked at like aliens. When we said we couldn't eat bread, they thought we were even crazier. I really think that the majority of the waiters just assumed it was some mumbo jumbo word from my own language. However, it hasn’t been hard to find food without gluten. Tapas are commonly ate here, and they comprise of platters of various different things, such as cheese, meat, seafood, vegetables, etc. While I was in Madrid, I went to eat tapas with Michael Gilliam from Challis. For those of you that don’t know him, he is a friend I have had since I was four-years-old. He is going to Grad school in Madrid, and he took some friends and myself to a tapas restaurant where we split four tapas and two pitchers of Sangria for a total of 7.50 euro each. I suppose this is the only time Spaniards could be considered to snack, since tapas are finger foods. However, it is pretty filling. (PS, picture isn't mine)

Lucky for us, Caroline and I are set as far as food goes in Granada. We live in an apartment where our landlady, Natividad, feeds us three gluten-free meals a day. The apartment is absolutely adorable. It was once Natividad’s mother’s, however she is now 92-years-old and lives in a nursing home. The apartment still has some of her style, with brown chairs and white doilies, and a china cabinet. It is a very comfortable place, and we even get internet! Natividad doesn’t speak any English, and she is sometimes hard to understand with the Spanish lisp and Granada accent. However, between the two of us, we know what’s going on. She makes the most delicious meals, all from scratch. She thought it was interesting that people would think our diet was complicated or difficult, and I now realize it’s because she doesn’t use anything processed. When you are in complete control of what is put in your food, where would the problem be? We eat a lot of vegetables and potatoes, and sometimes chicken. For lunch today she made us soup and chicken with potatoes, carrots, onions, dates, and a white wine sauce. It was amazing. I am in shock of how good the food is. She must love to cook because she also has another apartment to cook for, as well as an exchange student living in her house. Everyone has their own nit picky things (which she tells us about when all we do is sit in awe of how good her food is) so she makes many different meals in a day.

If my grammar or spelling is off, it is more than likely because of my brain trying to switch into Spanish. Once again I am finding that not only am I struggling to speak only Spanish, but that it makes it almost impossible for me to speak English. I can’t think of words, I say things in the wrong grammar structure, and I say words that probably aren’t even real words. It’s all part of the process of getting back into Spanish, and it is much harder in Granada than it was in Madrid. In Madrid, the speaking is much clearer, but in Granada the accent is very thick. I get so confused by what people are saying, I sometimes just can’t speak at all. However, classes haven’t even begun yet, so I know this will all work itself out in time, and that Spanish will come much easier.

Of course, there are many more things I would love to tell you all. I still didn’t mention Toledo. If you are bored, look up Toledo Spain, I promise you won’t be disappointed. I wanted to get a blog out before it got to the point where talking about things became too much. Well, here’s to new beginnings, and along with my Spanish, I hope to make these blogs better as we go. Here is a picture of Toledo, if it will pique your interest.