The Beginning

Hello all!

Sorry It's taken me so long to write - these past two weeks have been quite busy while I've been getting into the swing of things here in italia. So now that I've gotten settled and there's a bit of a lull in the excitement, I'll update you on the trip thus far, tell you about a few of my adventures, and reflect on the inomparible beauty of the old architecture, gelato, art, people, food, gelato, cities, castles, and gelato.

So, at the beginning, I took a plane with Megan and Tom (two of the other AFS'ers going to Italy as well) to NY for a two-day orientation at a university campus. When we arrived at the campus along with a small group we met at the JFK airport, we met up with other groups of AFS'ers (some going off to interesting less-traveled areas of the globe like malaysia and parts of africa). We were all assigned rooms with roomates also going to our host countries so we could make some friends who would be going to the language camp with us. This was when my bad luck streak started. Actually, that's debateable. Tom thought it started when I lost every round of Jeopardy on the plane to Megan (who was guessing the answer right every time) and Megan thought it started with me being late waking up the day we left for the plane to NY. Whichever the case, we could all agree that I was the victim of something of a supernatural misfortune that was prowling the corridors of our temporary NY home.

It started with a broken roomkey and a missing bed. I was assigned a room in a quadruple suite with one roomate in my room. However, when I tried the lock I realized that my key was broken. Not only that, but when my roomate opened the door for me, it appeared to contain only a single bed. Curious... curious. I took the problem(s) to the volunteers though and they eventually worked it out so that I was alone in a suit on a totally unoccupied floor of the building. This meant that I would be lonely. This meant that I would be forgotton in the morning for the wakeup call and I would be late. However, this also meant that I would be forgotton at night and thus have no curfew. Anyway, in the midst of this I somehow lost my purse. So I went on a purse hunt which eventually led me to the security building where I found a helping hand in a hefty policeman with a funny New Yawk accent. Together, we looked though security tapes to find out exactly when and where I had lost the purse. We traced the purse-less me through dinner at the dining hall, through a meeting on the grass, and through the elevator until we fiinally found that I had gone up to my ex-room with the purse and come down empty-handed. So I thanked the policeman and went and found the purse in my old room. How simple and silly. How quintessentially me. Then of course, the next morning I was late to the meeting because my cell phone alarm was set for PM rather than AM and then no one came to wake me. But I kept up a good attitude and a smile stretched painfully across my face (just kidding!) and the stay in NY was really not all that bad. Megan and Tom and a few of our new friends made it fun and we made a laughingstock of my misfortunes together.

At the end of the NY orientation, each country's students left NY to catch their respective planes at different times the next day. When all of us Italy AFS'ers got off the plane to Roma, they split us into two groups: Southern and Northern Italy. Here we said "arrevidercci" to Megan, because she went to the south.

We took a bus to Toscana and arrived at the most bellissima villa I have ever seen. It was ancient and crumbling in some parts, but still sound and sturdy as a whole. On the walls were multiple layers of wash, which faded into one another and, along with the dusty bricks cemented together that peered out from within, suggested the fantastic age of the stone beneath. The villa looked out onto a shaded courtyard in which we had orientations and group games and activities and went exploring during the day. At night, we would sit with friends on the stone circle beneath the trees or on the wall that boardered the road, and tell stories or just talk amongst ourselves. We ate like kings every day at the Villa and outside of it; the gelato, the pizza, the spaghetti... They were all Buonissimo.

Some days we took half-day trips to places like Firenze (Florence), and Siena; neighboring cities brimming with culture, history, and beauty. The architecture of the old buildings was mind-blowing. The more opulent structures (especially in stunning Firenze) were embedded with gold and carved into stone an ancient gothic style, showcasing subtle details of unfathomable complexity. Each spiral, twirl, and spike was delicate but powerful and hinted at the vast skill ancd persistance of its artists and builders. Within many of the scaffoldings and terraces there stood statues of royalty and gods, standing to attention and keeping a watchful eye on the city below. For me, to stand humbly in the shadow of such towering masterpeices was as if to be transported back to an older century.

I should probably get on to telling you about my arrival here in Roma and Latina, and when I met my host family. A group of us going to this area took a train from Firenze down to Roma at the end of our week-long stay in Toscana. When I got off the train, my host sister Francesca and two middle-aged volunteers I did not know were there waiting for me. We had pizza for lunch and then took another train to Latina and Went to my family's apartment where I met my host brother Luca and later my host mother Romanina, when she got home from work. The whole family is in love with the USA, which is funny since most Americans aren't quite that enthusiastic about America. They also love Obama, and dislike Burlusconi. In Romanina's words, "Burlusconi is not our president". And they wish Obama was.

Since my arrival here in Latina, I've been having a great time with my host family and getting adjusted to life in Italy. I've been going out most nights with Francesca and her friends, enjoying - no, passionately savoring, the fantastic Italian cuisine, and familiarizing myself with the city and it's way of life. One day, Romanina and Francesca and two AFS volunteers that are friends of hers took me to see to a nearby castle. For me, when I first stepped into the foyer of the main hall, I was chilled to the bone as the reality of it all sunk in. As we passed through the rooms (Francesca translating the words of our Italian guide for me) I could just picture the women with long hair and flowing gowns sitting in the windowseats passing the time watching the city below; the servants gossiping in their commonroom and preparing the old 14th century table for a feast; the cook setting a slaughtered beast on the draining board so its blood would be washed away with the rain. But what struck me the most was when we went up on top of the castle via a small stone passageway through the corridors and saw the territory of warefare. It was then that I truely understood that a castle is desgined for the sole purpose of protecting itself. As we passed through the rivets at the top I noticed receeding trianglar holes that were undoubtably meant to support gunfire, and I could imagine the soldiers rushing back and forth and twisting through the dank, cramped corridors underground on a stormy night to defend the castle and its inhabitants from invaders. I could see them pouring molten tar down the chute and throwing captives into the prisons and letting down the spiked gate with a thunderous crash on the heads of their attackers. The castle was a weapon and a sheild. And it had fullfilled its purose because it was still standing today. It had grown creaky and silent now with age, but inside there lurked a vivid, surreal energy that spoke of its past.


Overall, these past two weeks have been utterly amazing. This is really cheezy, but I feel inredibly lucky and blessed to be here right now. I know that many will never have this chance, and I am deeply grateful. I've been talking to my host family and other Italians a lot about America and I learn how it's both similar and different to Italy. Unsurprisingly, I've been using the phrase "In America..." a lot with the Italians. And literally every time I say it, I'm tempted to rattle off one of those "In Soviet Russia..." jokes. Oh, American humor.

So anyway, the trip has been... realy incredible so far, and right now I'm looking forward to a day at the beach tomorrow with Romanina and Francesca. I hope all of you are doing well also, and I will post again soon!

Ciao!

-Kelsey