back to the internet cafe...

Continuing from the visit to Tarquinia and Tuscania: 

The two churches were crazy insane. The oldest things I've ever seen. The chunks of painted plaster still clinging to the walls are few and far apart but you can tell the entire insides were covered in frescoes back in the day. The best part is that nothing matches. People have painted over what was already there, making an interesting mash-up of 7^th and 17^th century art. The capitals and columns have been mixed and matched from other sites, or created by various artists all individually in charge of one (they really weren't very good at teamwork, these guys). Contributing to the asymetry of the places are these notions of “the good side” and “the bad side” (which is, obviously, on the left): on one side pretty animals, and ghosts and ghouls on the other; or a painting of salvation and one of damnation ot balance it all out. One side of the wall has dark arches whereas the right has bright marble... These churches are among the weirdest things I've ever seen.

Speaking of weird things: I spent Saturday in one of the most ancient “Haunted Houses”! It's a statued park created in 1552 by the super rich count Orsini, who had a little bit too much time on his hands, and a weird sense of the romantic. Here, the story sort of splits into two theories: either he wanted people to fall in love in hte garden, or he wanted to scare the shit out of them. I think it may be a mix of both: you lose your lover in a forest, you come across enormous scary figures like giants, elephants, crooked houses, dragons, and gorgons, and you're scared to death. Ideally, you find your lover at the end of the day and he comforts you in his arms, fortifying the love between the two of you. I think it was supposed to be a test of bravery and courage. Seriously, can you imagine in 1567, walking around in the forest, and coming across the hugest sculpture of a dolphin with pointy teeth? I took a picture of me being eaten by that thing. It's awesome.

I went ot the theaters that night and saw the fourth of the Pirates of the Caribbean series. This time, though, it was in 3D, and let's not forget to mention, also in ITALIAN! I got to practice this wonderful language, even though a friend pointed out that the only time I was really going to use this language was nowhere but Italy...not extremely useful. I'd be better off learning some sort of Chinese... Anyway. The movie was really interesting. Yes, they recycled plotline, character personalities, soundtrack, and everything else you can think of (except for Captain Jack's new wig), BUT, I really really, as usual, enjoyed every little teeny tiny visual detail in the moving images, and I liked that there was a better pirate than Jack, and that person also happened to be a woman :) Of course, she was mostly there as eye candy, but I really got some heart-skipping moments where she was majorly awesome as a character, and the perfect alter-ego to Jack. Oh, and I love the Spanish. Maybe I'll stop by Spain on the way back home?

Tuesday, we visited Sienna. It was marvelous. The churches are more recent than the ones I saw in Tuscania, but no less interesting. Sienna is separated into 17 “contrade”, or regions (des quartiers), all named after animals (giraffe, owl, caterpillar (so fearsome, that one), dragon and unicorn (they don't seem to think these are mythical creatures), snail, etc) and every year, twice a year, for thousands of years now, they've picked one person from each contrade to race around the main piazza 3 times on the day of the palio. The competition is fierce: they say if a baby will be born outside of his7her family's contrade, they will bring earth from that region to say that the baby was born in it. Heaven forbid people from different contrade fall in love and get married. Maybe this is where the idea for Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet came from? Anyway. Went shopping, couldn't stop, boutght some clothes, jewellery, got yelled at by a store clerk... twice (once for going into the wrong changing room (who knew there were two different ones?) and once again for stepping on the bench that blocked the entrance to that closed changing room (I had to step back out of the changing room at some point, no?))... it was awesome. On the way back, we stopped by Le Terme, some very extremely old sulfuric natural bathes that were warm enough to melt your socks off. We got our feet in for a bit, walked around some remaining ruins, met a cat, and went back home to have supper. Some day I'm going to have to talk about the food here...

WORD OF THE DAY: Andiamo!

This means: “Let's go!” Something we say everytime we go somewhere. Tomorrow, we happen to be going to Florence: “Andiamo a Firenze!!!”

PS: the Gelato Festival started in Florence yesterday, and it's going on all weekend long... I'm going to have to buy out the seats next to me on the plane...

The God of the 41st Chunk of Sacrificed Lamb's Liver says it's Going to Rain

yep. That's right.

The day after the show was a Monday. Class started up again. This time, we bussed back to Bolsena, but to visit the Etruscan ruins. Basically, at the time, the Romans were wrapping up the different villages of Etruscan peoples and were relocating them in other places to live as a community near the Romans (sounds a lot like concentration camps, if you ask me). After a long lecture on the history of these Etruscans (which included much about the art of divination and how the priests used to cut up a sacrificed lamb's liver and split it into 42 or 43 equal parts to which a God was attached for each piece. They read the weather, people's fortunes, made decisions about moving, or going to war, or building something, all according to the amount of blood, or the color, or the arrangement of the veins on each chunk) we finally descended into the forum, then the marketplace, then followed the road to the house of an acient wealthy family. It was breathtaking. I was standing in the middle of a field with carved rocks of more than 2300 years old. OMG. I saw where they used to store wheat. I saw where they used to pray to God in secret basements, where they peed, slept, and the marble floor on which they ate during parties. I looked at that dusty marble flooring and wondered what it must've looked like back then when people still lived here, and then the teacher threw a bucket-load of water on the ground and washed away the dust- the colors brightening up to what they would have looked like originally- the whole place came to life. The rest of the week was particularly bleak compared to this event.

That Friday, though, we took a private bus to Tarquinia and Tuscania. 

After the motion sickness due to the winding roads and the many hills and valleys combined with a speed-loving bus driver, we landed in an Etruscan museum with many sarcophagi, Grecian plates, and stone urns. The art and development of these people is fascinating. We went to see their Necropolis not long after: fields upon fields (about 6000 little houses found so far) of underground tombs richly painted and very well preserved. Ducks, lions, people in togas, Caronte (Satan), etc. were decorating the walls of the crypts. We hopped back on the bus to Tuscania and saw the two oldest churches there.

I'm being kicked out of the internet cafe now.

More to come later...

Drawing in the Face of Danger

It has been two weeks. I feel Im in a mid-life crisis: my time here in Italy is going by too quickly for me to grasp it properly. There is still so much to see, but so little time in which to do it... Time goes by too quickly...

Too many things have happened for me to relay them all on a blog. Despite everything I have lived through recently, I find it difficult to express in words how it has changed me. I only know that now, as I reflect upon my experiences, I have been left with a deep imprint by Italy and its people.

For instance, I have a new-found respect for flies. This might come as a surprise (why now when Ive had 21 years of fly-swatting experience?) I saw a fly in pain. Out of pity, I decided to put it out of its misery, and instead found that it had in fact been in labor and I watched in shock the baby larvae crawl out of their mothers abdomen. Knowing that female flies feel the same pain we women do when giving birth to children opened my eyes to the fact that they are, like us, living, breathing beings, and I suddenly find myself incapable of killing a fly. Sine the incident, I have made many fly friends at the Agriturismo where I stay.

The Saturday following my first party, I spent the day on the beach in Bolsena. I drew, enjoyed the water, and spent a couple hours tanning. As I was comfortably installed on my towel near the end of the day, a biker came up to me and asked if he could take a picture. The man was tall, built like an ox, his leather jacket plastered with patches and metallic studs, and his enormous handle-bar mustache held up his nose and sunglasses on his face. I freaked, but nodded, not exactly sure how to react. As I was posing with the first, a second one came up and positioned himself opposite to the first. I was surrounded by huge biker guys. My face was panicked in the picture. I hardly tried to hide it. A third man came along and decided my other friend should be in the picture too, so we posed again... they thanked us warmly and left. It may be safe to assume that I am now the new face of Harley-Davidson, Italy.

That day, we came back to Acquapendente to help put the final touches on the Pugnaloni, came back to the apartment for supper, and went back to party. We visited almost every one of the 15 teams working on a Pugnaloni, then went back to our friends to dance. I feel I did not get to dance very long, as we were soon dragged out for a walk by a few friends, and we ended up in the main piazza of the town, eating sandwiches and meeting Romans in a bar who came to party. We walked back to our rooms at 3am. The next morning was brutal...

The celebration for the Pugnaloni occurred that Sunday. It was one of the few days we had rain. Legend has it that this particular weekend always gets odd, cold weather due to the fact that it is during this time that we remember the cherry tree growing in the field in the middle of winter (the sign that encouraged the people of the town to overthrow the evil invader Barbarossa). We got to the town just in time to see the finished Pugnaloni exhibited in front of the main church, and then get wrapped in plastic to protect them from the rain. The parade arrived in the main piazza a few hours later. The rain had taken a break just long enough for the show which included lots of men in tights: 2 opposing bands with drums, trumpets, etc., knights and damsels and beggars in original renaissance outfits, and the flag-throwers (an awesome and extreme sport: a mix between cheerleading and javelin throwing). After the sow, a few girls chased after the hot knights while the others went home due to the pouring rain that had started up again just as the ceremony was ending.

Drawing class is intensive. It is definitely worth the 6 credits in terms of work load... and risk. We draw in narrow streets in which we can hardly share the space between ourselves, even less with the cars. The wind near construction areas blind us and cover our clothes in dust. The church catacombs and crypts are dark, moldy, and of a kind of freezing that tears straight through your skin and into your bones. We rush from space to space in the steep roads between the houses: one minute here, turn around, another minute there, run to the other side of the street and do another 1 minute drawing... We truly are drawing in the face of danger. But I would not exchange it for the world. I have had a crappy week of drawing, totally thrown off balance. My once-confident abilities have been put into question. In other words, I am growing; developing into a new kind of artist, sensitive to the texture, the mass, and the sounds of every element of every place. And when I feel overwhelmed and overworked, in the afternoon, I run to the cemetery or the forest and I draw some more.

I met the man who sells flowers to the grieving. I met the local mangy dog, the old man who always takes care of his garden. 

So much has happened and so much will happen, I doubt I will have time to write regularly (not that I started out being "regular") but I will be visiting Sienna, Florence, Rome... and then Naples, Pompei, and Paris.

Will write back soon... just dont know when...

keep in touch!

WORD OF THE DAY: Orario

schedule. as in the weird schedule that stores have. they all close when our class ends, and reopens when we are busy having supper... they have a 4 to 5 hour long siesta... so inconvenient.

All Roads Lead to Rome

We woke up at the crack of dawn to catch the train for Rome. Sitting down to enjoy our breakfast, we realized there were too many people for a regular train this early in the morning… we had caught the train during rush hour… I ate a Nutella and apple triple club sandwich and a half or a pamplemousse  that was worthy of Italian fruits: fresh, juicy, sweet, and, consequently, delicious.

Getting off the train at Roma Termini, the main station, we realized we had another train to catch to get to the airport that would take us longer than we could afford. We had to go to the bank to get money out and it ate my friends card. We managed to call from the phone of a really nice Italian, who I should have asked out but did not think about it at the time… Anyway, when we finally got to the airport after having fixed the bank card issue, we were early compared to the rest of the group! We waited at the airport until 3pm and finally left on a nice bus toward Acquapendente.

I do not remember much of the ride. Everyone was sound asleep. I nearly fell off my seat while drifting away. The place is called Agriturismo Buonomore. It had a few apartments and very nice restaurant. We get free breakfast and supper. So far everything has been delicious. I sleep with 2 other girls in the same room, and two other girls in a separate room. We have 2 washrooms, a kitchen, and living/dining room with our own terrace facing the back yard. I slept amazingly well that night.

The next day was a Saturday. We got a guided tour of the city and were told many wonderful stories. In particular, one very important to the city. It is the story of the Pugnaloni. They have a festival every year to commemorate the day that the evil Emperor Barbarossa was thrown out of their town (that is where the term “Barbarian” comes from, by the way). After the fall of Rome thanks to Constantine, everyone went wild. The villages all tried to become the next source of power by invading every other village they could. Barbarossa took Acquapendente. The sad villagers asked for a sign from the Virgin Mary to start an uproar. When a cherry tree grew in the middle of winter, they knew it was the time to attack, and they drove him out successfully. Since then, they have 15 teams competing to make the best pugnaloni: a large canvas painted by collaging flowers and leaves of different colors. We met a few of these teams and were invited to work on the pugnaloni with them. We eventually ended up in a wild party with typical Italian sing-alongs, followed by intense dancing with the typical American party music (Waka Waka, Thunderstruck, the Macarena, etc). We had a blast and made lots of friends!

On Sunday, I did my laundry, relaxed, went into town where I ordered some gelato all in Italian- a first (so far the best combination has been orange and coconut!), and later had my first official Italian class given by my teachers Italian boyfriend. I ended the night with a panic attack: we had plates of seafood for dinner and although I did not have any, my face was red and swollen and I thought I was having an allergic reaction. Turns out it was a sunburn… oh, and those “bed bug bites” were actually mosquito bites!

Today I had my first drawing class. It lasted all of two hours. The demands of the course are a bit vague, very poetically explained by the teacher. I feel as if as long as I have passion I will be just fine. We went into the field across the road, and practiced loosening up our pencil by drawing without looking at our paper, then did some observation of space, and contrast. The idea is to get the feel of the place, not necessarily each leaf on each branch.

I managed to pick up Eat, Pray, Love in English and I am at page 17. I am in love.

Will also be uploading photos soon of drawings and sights. Stay updated!

WORD OF THE DAY: sarò

It is the future tense of “will be”, as in “Io sarò un insegnante di arte”, or “I will be an art teacher”. This was the sentence I officially learned in class yesterday. This is exciting!

CIAO!

Bumps and Soares

There's a lot to say about the last few days. Who knew travelling could make someone a busy person?


I'm currently writing from Francesca's B&B although there in no actual Francesca that runs the building. It's lost in the middle of the labyrinth that is Venice. Clean, basic, convenient, and inexpensive, it's our second night staying there... but it's been a long road...

The plane ride was littered with turbulence. Two movies were shown, both of which I only rarely caught glimpses, every time I took my face out of the plastic-lined "air-sickness bag". When supper came around on the plane my own came flying out... I spent the last 3 hours of the ride swinging between semi-consciousness and a heavy sleep resulting from the exhaustion of puking out my own guts. I managed to take breakfast with me off the plane, but was distracted from it as we realized this was the first time we were seeing real palm trees. Needless to say we spent a few minutes giving them hugs and taking our picture with them. The train ride to Pisa was long, but we met very nice people, in particular an old woman and her 5 year-old grandson, who agreed to teach us some Italian. We arrived in Pisa at 8:30 pm, and headed to Samuele's home.

We had reserved his guest room through CouchSurf and I was a little bit worried. The man himself, and his roomate Daniele are wonderful people, but there was only one single bed. I was lucky to get the bed... but maybe not... I may have gotten bitten by bed bugs while I was asleep. I have 2 lumps on each hand and one on my face. Hoepfully they'll go away and it's just the hypochondriac in me that's panicking.

The next day we visited Cinq Terre. We took the train to the first village, walked around, hiked in the hills to the second village, Vernazza, and then took the train to the 4th town because the passage was closed, finally walking the Via Del'Amore between Manarola and Riomaggiore where we took a train back to Pisa. We saw the local pests: small lizards, and also the local flora: bamboos and giant lemon trees. It was warm, sunny, and a very tiring hike. Near the end of the day, the ticket booths for the train were closed. We hopped on the train anyway and were given a ticket... for hopping on without a ticket. The conductor had pity for us tourists and told us that 10 Euros were enough (fines are normally about 50Euros)  because women from Montreal were beautiful.

We slept in Pisa a second time, and the next morning enjoyed a walk to the Leaning Tower and its surroundings before taking a train to Venice. We bought a calling card there that we later realized was a hoax...

In Venice, we were shocked at the cold weather and the structure of the streets. We got lost. When we finally found the B&B we decided there was a need for some relaxing, so we set out to find a place to sit in the sun. We found ourselves on a table by the canal with free home-made wine and three galant waiters around us. Americans sat on the table next to us and with a long chit-chat we left with free passes for the boats, and nearly more maps than we could carry. We left a little tipsy for all the alcohol "on the house" and with our bellied quite content. We took the most beautiful boat ride along the canal during the night, ending up at Piazza San Marco to find gorgeous architecture and a full orchestra for a free concert. We slept very well in Venice that night.

Today we spent our last day in Venice. We went grocery shopping (the Sicilian oranges are to die for) and took a boat around the remainder of the Island. Once again, we ended up at Piazza San Marco. This time we visited the cathedral. The gold mosaics were jaw-dropping. After lunch by the bridge of Sighs, we walked back to our B&B, taking our time. Along the way, we stopped to feed pigeons, we ate delicious gelato, did a bit of window shopping, saw the Rialto bridge, and we were happy.

This is our last night here in Venice. Tomorrow we join the class in Roma and head off to Acquapendente. I'm sad to leave this place so early...

more later!


WORD OF THE DAY: POMODORI
this means tomatoes (one tomato is ismply pomodoro). A kind lady at the market told us that the Italians used to have yellow tomatoes (pome d'oro= apple of gold) but that they were breeded out by the red ones. She helped us figure out in Italy, you are not allowed to handle the food at a market... we learned the hard way...