I'm taking a class called Body Language & Communication Techniques, which is listed as a communications course, but is more directed toward performance & theater, if anything. It's way different than anything I have studied before, and putting me way out of my comfort zone (which is turning out to be a common theme in this study abroad experience). Gotta love new challenges though.

The overall goal of the class is to strip our bodies of its bad habits, in regard to posture, ticks, etc., and form good habits in order to improve our ability to communicate. This "stripping" involves ridiculous and embarrassing performances, and I am constantly making a fool out of myself. Today's class revolved around the "neutral mask." (see below)

First, we warmed up with some yoga exercises and stretching (my favorite part of class), practiced walking "like there is a string pulling us from the top of our head," worked on posture, then eventually moved on to neutral mask. Our first exercise was to walk in front of the class in "neutral" character, which is a lot harder than you would think. It is so strange to see how much personality can be communicated simply by the way someone walks and carries themself. Before this class began, I didn't think I had much swagger, but today I learned otherwise. According to my professor, I have a "cat-like" walk, in that I sway my hips, pop my knees forward, have good coordination/reflexes, and dainty little footsteps. I'm glad to know that my feline ways have been confirmed by a professional. I guess I should look into a modeling career....catwalk....get it? (I have lame jokes.)

Also in neutral character, we had to act out the "Waking Up" exercise. This involved putting on the mask, lying on the floor, and "waking up" with absolutely no knowledge of our bodies or the world around us. Basically, we had to pretend we were little newborn baby deer seeing the world and walking for the first time. Pretty ridiculous if you ask me, but fun at the same time of course.

Every week in this class brings exciting and challenging activities, and, despite the embarrassment, it is usually one of the highlights of my week. I can already tell a difference in my posture, feel more confident in my "voice", and have grown to be very good at laughing at myself. I LOVE classes in Italy.

Only a few days until the one month mark of living in Florence. It's unbelievable to me that it's been a whole month, but at the same time it feels like I've been here at least three. Without having to worry about work, or all my other commitments while at Chapman, I have an amazing amount of free time to live.

Recent activities include: long walks by the Arno River, delicious bowls of pasta, seeing the various replicas of Michelangelo's "David," a fake George Clooney spotting (with paparazzi and all), trying different gelaterias around town, getting stared at by creepy old Italian men, reading, laughing, shopping, dancing, etc. etc. etc.....

My favorite activity so far: exploring.

A couple weekends ago, a few friends and I put on our running shoes and decided to go walking with no destination in mind. We first made our way across the river, and then through the city, neighborhoods, and finally hit the countryside. It had been weeks since any of us had seen greenery, so that was obviously exciting. Winding our way through the little streets, we came across a giant fort that was boarded and fenced off with signs saying "NON ENTRARE" (but with a convenient English translation underneath). We then noticed another set of signs explaining why the fort was closed. The signs, sponsored by some organization, said that a 30-something-year-old Italian woman had recently died within the fort, along with a history of other deaths in the area. So, mysterious deaths= some weird paranormal activity right? That's what I thought they were claiming. We continued to roam around the outside of the fort, and I swear, there was a creepy vibe about that place. The various wild cats hiding around it and flock of pigeons staring down at us didn't help. Well, after doing some research when I got home, I guess the woman fell to her death because of the old, eroding pathways, and the fort was being condemned as unsafe. I think paranormal activity as an explanation is more exciting.

Fort Belvedere

Away and away from civilization we walked, until we came across a little town away from anything, with no name, because we had walked off the map. Although completely lost, we eventually found our way back to familiarity and back into Florence. More adventures to come.

On another note...traveling is way too expensive, but I finally have spring break almost figured out. IRELAND and LONDON. I can check that off my bucket list.

Time for siesta.

Whoops, almost forgot....HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!!!! Love you.

I just have so many things I want to write about, that I don't know where to begin.

First of all, the internet in Italy is incredibly unreliable and I curse the Italian internet providers on a daily basis. And if you know me, you know I am slightly too addicted to my computer. So you understand that it has been....

SO.
INCREDIBLY.
FRUSTRATING.

That being said, I had this whole post including pictures of my trip last weekend to the French Riviera, but, of course, was unable to post due to lack of internet. Ugh.

Anyway.....a brief outline. Absolutely loved France. And they say everyone hates the French? I like the French. We had an incredible whirlwind of a trip, on a tour provided by my study abroad program. Hitting five cities in two days= no sleep, which resulted in me getting sick. (Another reason why I haven't updated in so long.) After meeting for a bus at 6:00 in the morning, followed by a five hour bus ride, we first saw Monaco. Its the second smallest country, second to Vatican City, but the most expensive place to live in the world.

The picture is of the palace of Monaco. Not as impressive as I would have expected for the amount of money that comes through this country. Next, we went to Nice, where we explored and stayed the night. The city reminded me a lot of southern California with its palm trees, boardwalk, and the long stretch of beach. I can just imagine how beautiful it is in the summer.

We were treated to a "French" style dinner, as provided by the program, which included a first course of penne pasta with eggplant and red sauce, followed by roasted pork with potatoes (french fries), and a dessert that seemed something like bread pudding (except they called it tiramisu?). Basically not the best meal in the world, but it was free. Anyways, I had to take advantage of my only night in France, so I went out with friends. Let's just say the French know how to have a good time when it comes to dancing. Went to sleep around 4:00AM, woke up to catch the bus at 7:30AM. Lovely.

Off to St. Paul de Vence, a tiny little hilltop town known for its eclectic artwork around the city.

 

Next, to Cannes. So, Cannes, being known for the Cannes Film Festival and all...not anything like I expected. It had a pretty beach, and the building where the film festival is held is pretty cool with the handprints of the stars, but that's about it. A lot like Hollywood, and Niagara Falls, my perception was crushed by the trashy city stuck within the beauty. So disappointing.

I ate a crepe to wash away the sorrow.

Our last stop was in Eze, another tiny little hilltop town known for its famous perfume factory "Fragonard's." We got a tour of the perfume factory, and I spent so much time in the gift shop (they suckered me in) that I only had time to run up the incredibly long pathway and sets of stairs, take a picture, and run back down to get on the bus. Said picture:

Back on the bus for another five hour bus ride, and we got home around 11:00PM on Sunday. Longest two days of my life, but filled with memories and experiences to last a lifetime. I will slowly be catching up with the infinite number of stories, tribulations, and laughs from the past week. More tomorrow. Buona sera!

French cat named Silvia. Meow.

I promise updates tomorrow.

The Italian men are in our apartment yet again, fixing another thing. I swear something goes wrong every day. This time, it's the electricity of the upstairs part of the apartment, where I live. Sweet. Whatever they're rambling about, it doesn't sound good.

Steph, Kelsey, and I decided to go get dessert and wine at the ristorante to escape the apartment for a bit. Pa had the night off, so we had to make our own entertainment: a few rounds of cards, and attempting to avoid the awkward stares of the chef. When I say stares, I mean like actually not breaking eye contact for minutes at a time. Our first couple experiences at the ristorante, as previously mentioned, the beautiful chef gave a good first impression. Now, it's just becoming creepy.

As expected, I come across cultural differences on a daily basis. So, here's another one to add to the list.

So I've already started neglecting the blog....this is a bad sign. I guess I've just been living life, rather than sitting at home on the computer.

I started my event planning class on Thursday, which seems super interesting. All the classes here are super interesting. I think it's because they're taught by such interesting people. For example, my event planning professor, Simone Wolf, was born in Germany to a German father and Italian mother. She grew up, met an Italian man, fell in love, and now she lives outside of Florence. She runs an event planning business based out of Milan and finds the time to teach at LdM along with a few other universities. Such a cool life. The class is going to be a really great experience as well. We will be planning LdM's annual "Art in the Streets" event, which is a collaborative effort of the university's music, dance, art, sculpting, etc. programs. It's supposedly really well known in Florence.

There was a chocolate festival in Florence this weekend. So delicious. And Steph and I hit up the farmer's market, where I bought some vino. I'm becoming quite the connoisseur, with my favorite so far being a Chianti red wine from a little winery in Tuscany. It's the house wine at our restaurant in the piazza.

Speaking of which, we went and saw Pa for another delicious meal on Friday night with some friends visiting from Perugia. He gave us some good travel tips.

My life has become consumed with trying to find some Italian leather black boots, wondering when I will go get gelato next, and a lot of exploring throughout the city. Here's a view that Steph, Kelsey, and I stumbled upon yesterday.

My first alfredo sauce from scratch. To die for, if I do say so myself.

Soooo I'm beginning to second guess my last post...time may be more casual in Italy, but the Italians sure move at a quick pace when it comes to the classroom.

Welcome to my Italian class: On the first day, we skipped over the usual, you know, basic stuff that you should probably teach stupid Americans who study abroad in Italy without the slightest knowledge of the language. However, instead of teaching numbers, salutations, or even the Italian alphabet, Professor Roberto Bazzouli jumped right in, rambling about who knows what in Italian and posing questions to the class that could only be answered with blank stares and snickers. When he became frustrated, he moved onto the next lesson: conjugating verbs. (Like are you kidding???) The rest of the class continued about the same, moving at such a fast pace that when I would start to make a little sense out of what was happening (thank goodness I took five years of Spanish), he would be on to something else.

So, with a lot of struggle and use of my Italian-English cheat sheet, I can now:

1) Ask for someone's phone number. (Not sure why I'd need to know that right off the bat.)

2) Explain where I am from. (Already a little too obvious for my own good. These Italians can pick out an American from 100 feet away.)

3) Conjugate Italian verbs. (That I do not know the meaning of.)

4) The phrase: "como si dice," meaning, "how do you say..." (Which could actually be very helpful. Score one point for Professor Rob.)

If only I could maybe ask for directions, order an espresso, or, you know, count to three. Good thing most people speak English, or I guess there's always Rosetta Stone.

Journal entry: Sunday, January 30, 2011 9:00ish AM???

Time passes differently here.

Although I have been in Florence about four days, it feels that it has been over a week. There are no alarm clocks: I wake up when I feel rested. There are no meal times: I eat when I am hungry. I do not count the hours until my events of the day; they come to me in a casual manner. (“I guess I should get to the market before it closes,” or “I forgot to eat lunch again.”)

As I am sitting here, the Duomo’s bells signify some time of day, however I have yet to figure out what the chimes mean. There is not the typical gong count for the hour of the day, but instead an elaborate tune that extends for a minute or so. Perhaps a melody of the hour? The chimes seems to ring a lot more frequently than on the hour.

Even just the way a meal passes. On Friday, I went to dinner with my apartment mates: Sophia, Kelsey, Steph, and Lindsay. We planned to spend the meal again at the ristorante in our small piazza, Il Sasso di Dante, where a few of us had eaten the night before. I had spent the entire day in anticipation to order the lasagna that Steph had enjoyed that previous meal. (The rich and creamy, meat-filled lasagna, is simply delectable, and I will be ordering it once a week.)

Just to give a time frame, we arrived at the ristorante around 7:30PM and did not leave until much past 11PM. We spent the night being waited on by our young friend, Elsie, the waitress, who gave us tips on where to go out that night, and in conversation with the owner, an older man named Patricio (who we’ve begun to call “Pa”), who gave us tips on the Italian language and culture. Pa is has the most beautiful personality I have ever come across. I have a feeling we will be spending infinite hours locked in conversation.

Oh, and there was another significant player in the night: the young, gorgeous Italian man, who I have yet to catch the name of, that cooks up the most delicious (for lack of a better word) meal I have ever indulged in. You are a saint.

In America, we spend every minute of the day in a constant panic to the passing time, where the matter of lateness or of a wasted day is the ultimate sin against humanity. We live our lives on the basis of to-do lists, run from appointment to appointment, order food to-go, and still find ourselves wishing there were more hours in the day. How can we be so chronologically-centered when there is so much conversation and beauty in the world that will be missed?

In Italy, I feel no element of urgency. I am able to embrace every moment here. I am able to spend hours walking through the markets, or hours enjoying the company of a restaurant owner without feeling guilty, without feeling like I should be doing something else. The feeling is absolutely freeing.

I forgot to mention, there are also no clocks. In order to catch the time anywhere, I have been dependent on the silly little cell phone I carry around for emergencies, and it is rarely checked, only to figure out whether I will be late, or just the general time of day.

Maybe when I start classes tomorrow, time will hold more significance. But really, I have no desire to buy a watch.

Benvenuto a Firenze, the most beautiful city in the world. Welcome to the current place I call home...