First Night, First Disco

So after so much sobering religion at the Vatican, we wanted to live it up at an Italian disco. Screw jet lag and exhaustion. We would do it the Italian way, stop off at a bar for a shot of espresso.

Only problem was, we did not know where to go or how far it would be. Luckily, kim had gotten adivce from a friend to go to piazza navana. So, being the cheap Americans we are we walked, and walked and walked. We checked the map, and once again being typical Americans that didn't learn geography, we always thought it was around the corner. Well, it wasn't. We walked more and more. In circles, back and forth and got completely lost. So, we said forget the disco, let's go to this Irish pub we kept seeing signs for that included a map, it was around the corner. (remember what I said about italians and directions) So once again we walked and walked. Twenty minutes later, I was done. All I wanted was to sit down and have a beer. I didn't care where we went, and at that moment the world opened up and I heard loud obnoxious bar noise. We followed it down a scary alley and at the end was another irish pub. What is it with Europe and Irish pubs? Being cute girls, we cut the line, got a table, and sat down to drink our strong Irish beer. This of course lead to drunk conversations figuring out world peace, temperature, and the wonders of AC. (dont you love those conversations, so brilliant, yet never remembered.)

Now that should have been the end of the night. It had already been a long day. Train rides, Vatican, pubs, but when you have strong irish beer in you the night never ends so easily. (another example of this will be in Nice) So once the convos slowed the three of us decided to splurge and take a taxi, that yes ripped us off. Not surprising, we were three drunk Americans that were probably very obnoxious. We get to our piazza and start to walk to our hotel. And who is out front but some Italian guys who eagerly invited us to the disco below our hotel. Yes we walked miles looking for a disco and there was one a few floors under our hotel.

Unfortunately, this is when our night really turned painful. One of the creepy, greasy italian guys became obsessed with my blond hair and kept touching it saying, "California, I love California , I love blonde. " Not liking being touched by strange greasy men, I told him repeatly I was not from California but Pennsylvania and not to touch me. He responded by trying to get me to go to a dark part of the bar. I responded by saying I had a boyfriend, get off. He responded by now hugging me and trying to kiss my arm. This was all a bit much for me. I yelled at him to get off, jumped off my seat and stood near my friend. She tried to help the situation by telling him we were gay, and she was my girlfriend. Of course greasy Italian guy had a comeback, and told us to kiss. I did consider it for a second, but just couldn't. Luckily, katie then came over and distracted him with a conversation on America. Yes, it gets worse. He then claims that 911 never happened. We all three flipped on him then and took this as our time to leave. Which is good, because during the 911 controversial fight, katie had fallen off a bar stool and sprained her ankle. How you do this? I do not know, but it was time to call it a night. We had our first real European adventure. What would be next?

Top favorite cities of Italy and France

1. Nice, France: A relaxed beach town. Close enough to Italy for great food and still has the old European feel.
2. Rome, Italy: Around every corner is something beautiful.
3. San Remo, Italy: A small beach town with very friendly people. Just a pain to get too.
4. Paris, France: It's beautiful but the people are rude, it's extremely commercialized, and reminds me too much of New York City.
5. Cecina, Italy: A small and quaint coastal village.

When in Rome

So my work had finished. My time as an English tutor had come to an end, and finally I could vacation. My first stop is Rome, where I met up with my friends from home. The plan is to meet at the mcdonalds at the train station. Of course I couldn't find the mcdonalds. Who can't find a mcdonalds? But by the grace of god, I hear my name being screamed in the middle of a crowded platform. There are my friends smiling and exhausted. We ran to each other and hugged. Finally, people who speak English!

After we checked into out hotel we got lunch, gelato and coronnas. Now this is vacation.

Naked Mom

So Italy is hot. I mean dripping sweat, can't breath, steam rising from pools hot. Not only is it hot but no one seems to have AC. Not only is there no AC, but no one seems to have fans. I know they make fans. I see them in the grocery stores, but no where I stayed had a fan. Everyone just constantly complains of the heat, but they do nothing about it. I know this makes me sound like a spoiled American, but I can't help it. An open non screened window just doesn't cut it.

This is how I saw my foster mom naked!

It was a ridiculously hot night. I had my windows wide open, and had covered myself with bug spray before bed. Even though I knew it wouldn't matter. I was averaging 10 mosquito bites a night. I slept on top of the covers. In fact, i had never bothered to ever turn the bed down, it was so hot. I woke up around 2am drenched in sweat. I was so hot, I couldn't breath. I needed water. I desperately needed water. So, i got up, pulled on some shorts and peeked out my door. It was dark and quiet except for the tv in the living room was on. I figured the mom probably feel asleep watching it. So, I crept out to the kitchen. I decided not to turn on the lights so I wouldn't wake her. I found a glass and poured my water in the dark. Just as I was closing the refrigerator the light turned on. I turned around and there was the mom completely naked. I mean COMPLETELY naked. We looked startled at each other. I probably stood for a full 30 seconds in shock not knowing what to do. Then I just started sputtering, "scuis, aqua, aqua" while pointing at my glass. She of course giggled, and I rushed past her to my bedroom. No sooner did I reach my bedroom then I laid in bed and realized, damn I needed to go to the bathroom!

This story was the topic of conversation at the breakfast table. Everyone thought it was hilarious. So, I laughed at it too. Although, having the image of 55 year old's naked body burned in my brain is not pleasant to say the least. I do know see what people mean when they say Europeans are a lot more free thinking when it comes to clothes.

Fourth of July in Cechina Italy

So Florence was fun and pretty. However, I went with my host family, and they kept forgetting that I don't speak a lot of Italian. So as they explained things they would slip into Italian, because they knew little English. So, I did not learn a lot. I did take lots of pictures and say "si, bella, bella" a lot.

The following day was the fourth of July. Even though I wasn't in America, I still wanted to recognize it in some way. I felt i needed to represent America. So after work Lia and I were trying to decide what bar (Italian for cafe) to go when our boss suggested the beach. We had no idea we were even near a beach. We had not seen it, heard it, or even saw signs for it. However, Antoinette assured us it was just down the street. She claimed you make one right and go straight and it is right there. This is when I learned how different Italian directions are to American.

We got on our bikes and started peddling. We didn't have our swimsuits, but figured we could just sit on the beach and have a celebratory drink. We made our left and peddled and peddled. After a while the road turned into a dirt road. The nice houses turned into sunflower farms. There seemed to be no people around. We both figured we had to be lost after riding for 15 minutes. Antoinette said we were only 5 minutes away. Finally, I saw a sign for Mediterranean. We figured that's the name of the sea, it got to be there. Especially since straight ahead was what looked like a forest. So we made the turn and instantly new it had to be wrong. It was a tiny dirt road with pigs and dogs roaming it. A scary dog started barking at us and that's when we saw a farmer. Lia asked in bad Italian/English, "Dove sea?" he replied it was through the forest. So off we go again. We turn around, start going through the forest on a little path we found. The path started getting sandy, the air saltier,and finally the trees broke and there was the sea. Who would have thought it would be through a campground type of forest.

We were so excited we kicked off our shoes and ran barefoot into the water. We must have looked crazy in our red work shirts and sweaty faces. We did not care. We found the sea and a bar. The day ended clinking glasses of cold Mexican beer on an Italian beach toasting our American holiday. What a great fourth of July.

2nd Italian Family

I hate Italian trains. So confusing and the people are so rude. It took five trains to get to Cechina. At least I had time to practice my Italian and to mine and Lias surprise can finalloy roll my r's. When I say practice, I mean call Lias mom and ask her how to yell some smack on rude train workers. Lia had fun with this. It made me realize I need to learn th Italian that Rosetta stone doesn't teach!

Anyway, I finally made it to Cechina. A small village on the coast. I'm staying with an older couple and their daughter who is six. It took me awhile to figure out they were the parents and not grandparents. Especially since there weren't a lot of toys about. I'm thinking she's an oops baby, but you can tell she's very much loved. They speak almost no english though. This is going to be a long week.

That night during dinner their nephew came over. He was around my age. From what I gathered from the conversation, he was on his way to a disco, and the father told him to take me. I agreed to go. I had been working so hard all week and had a stressful train ride. A night out would be fun, and the other Italian family was so nice always wanting to take me out. It would be nice to get out. However, the nephew was not ok with this. I didn't get all of what they were saying but there was an argument it seemed about me. At least that's what I figured when the nephew pointed at me. So trying to be polite, I asked what time they would get back. He said six am. I said that was too late, but thanks. Of course the father offers to pick me up whenever I wanted. Another argument happened between the family. I felt very awkward at this pint. I decided this was not a good idea for me to go. This guy was not like my other Italian family. So after much convincing, they believed I was too tired after all. The nephew was rude about it. The mother seemed relieved, and the father went to bed. I appreciated the effort.

O'well, doesn't matter. This has been a long long day. At least they're taking me to Florence tomorrow!

First Camp

Camp is crazy. Twenty kids and just me, Lia, And Valentina the director. I like it though. We try to teach them as much English as we can, but balance that with a good amount of games. Our day is filled with water games, scavenger hunts, and Olympics. It's very tiring.

However, tomorrow is the final day. I enjoy my family and my class. They're fun and relaxing. Italy is relaxing. I swear I look so much healthier. I walk or ride my bike everywhere and play with the kids every day. After work, me, Lia, and Valentina go to a bar (cafe) for campari and to relax. Valentina is friendly. She has big dreams to move to London, but not a lot of confidence. Afterwards, I go to my Cammozzono home, shower and eat dinner wth the family. Which is always interesting. I forgot how nice it is to eat a family dinner. My family doesn't even do that at holidays anymore. The family talks passionately and gestures wildly. We always compare English and Italian words. They laugh when they hear me try to speak Italian. I guess I'm pretty bad, lol. I usually spend an hour after dinner talking to Luca, the brother, and Laura using google to translate. We all practice our new language skills with each other. It's fun. I think this is just what I needed. I feel like a new person, more confident, happier, and just relaxed. Just like the Italian way.