Italian Men Wear Speedos to Yoga

The most important bit of information is in the title. I went to a yoga class. I went to a bikram yoga class. It seemed like a good idea, seeing as I hadn't gotten any exercise since arriving.

Hah. 

First of all, I tried to select a mat location at the very back of the class, but it turned out to be the very front. (Awkward thing #1.) This ruined my plan of figuring out what was going on by watching others, as all others were behind me.  

I thought that it would be taught in the international yoga language, but it was definitely taught in Italian, of which I still have a limited knowledge. (Awkward thing #2.) Is bikram that much different than regular yoga or is it because I'm in Italy? Either way, weird. For example, no downward dog? Also, they did shavasana more than a dozen times. Every time, I thought the class was over and got all settled in (awkward things #41-58). 

The class smelled like sweat, as expected, but it additionally spelled faintly like food. How is that possible? I'm not kidding; I think Italians sweat olive oil. 

My issue now is the fact that I paid 20 euro for 20 days because I figured it would be 4 euro/class if I went five times. Too bad I'd rather staple the class schedule to my forehead than go that frequently. 

In happier news, I have essentially mastered the bus system. My laziness beat my directional incompetence and now I can bus around the city like a pro. It's a pretty poorly operating system regardless of my abilities. Several times I've waited at a stop forever, only to watch it pass the second I leave, like Spongebob at Glove World. Please know that reference. 

Still, after making mistakes that include waiting for a night bus in the middle of the day and taking the correct line in the opposite direction, I feel that I more or less know what I'm doing. Check.

I've even given Italians directions on numerous occasions! If the directions were wrong, that only made me more Italian. 

This new skill has developed just in time because my internship starts tomorrow. I was offered an internship at the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna, a reeeally beautiful place to go to work, but I decided to intern for the Rome Independent Film Festival. There, I'll have a diverse set of tasks that should be interesting/enjoyable. It only helped my decision that the guy I interviewed with was named Fabrizio. I have to get at least 300 Italian points for knowing a Fabrizio. 

I'm going to kill everyone

I GIVE UP ON FORMATTING THE PICTURES IN THE LAST POST. I'm not trying to do anything fancy. I just want them to look normal. Come on blogspot, help an old lady out.

Sì, Assisi

Last Saturday, I went to Assisi with four other kids. Here is what I can recall (I even procrastinate on blog writing):

It is a gorgeous medieval town that smells like wood-burning stoves and forests post-rain. In my experience thus far, every city in Italy has a completely unique personality. While I am looking forward to traveling outside of Italy in the next few weeks, there's plenty to admire within the country.

Lovely, quaint little Assisi only has a day's worth of sites, but what a nice day! My eating highlights were gnocchi stuffed with quail and this cannolo:

      

            I am still confused, as there were many directions one could travel from the "all of the directions" sign 

Churches abound

It was beautiful at night. You're going to have to take my word. 
Still waiting for the camera battery that was shipped two weeks ago to arrive.

Pictures: Attempt 2

Naples:

Pretty views from the train. 

Awh doggie

Ew cats

Carnevale dessert

I finished my entire pizza before assisting others.

Pitzer study abroad?

Friday:

This isn't relevant, but I had to screen cap it.  I wasn't aware that full jet pack flights were available in real life. 

Baby Unicorn and Ruins and Pizza

I changed the blog title. "The Innocent Abroad" seemed a lil lofty.

For the past few days, the weather has been beautiful at last. I can no longer hide inside using the snow as an excuse. However, I'm simultaneously watching Ever After and eating bread as I write this, so I've clearly found other excuses.

I did things today though. One of my roommates, Kelly, and I went to Galleria Borghese in Villa Borghese. I don't have pictures, but just imagine a more ornate version of Mr. Darcy's house during the part when the old housekeepy lady asks Keira Knightley if she does not think him a handsome man (she dare says he is).

The gallery is gorgeous; no surprise. I almost appreciated the Bernini pieces more when I saw them at the Getty though, because this gallery is so overwhelming and overflowing with immaculate art that I couldn't even begin take it all in. I suppose that's a nice problem to have.

This may show that I have bad taste, but my favorite piece that I saw was called Dama con Liocorno by Raffaello. It's the portrait of an unamused seeming girl who looks like Luna Lovegood and is holding a baby unicorn. I want to steal it. (It being both the painting and the baby unicorn.) Most of the paintings had to do with the taking of women or the suffering of Jesus. I'm too squeamish for pics of Jesus, so I spent most of my time examining the sculptures.

We then met two of my other roommates, Gabrielle and Amanda, at the Colosseum. This is shameful, but I hadn't been there yet. It is indeed colossal. All I could think of when I was there for some reason, was the movie Jumper, which I didn't even like. I'll be presenting on the Colosseum for my Ancient History class, so hopefully I'll have more to think about next time I go. I wasn't able to fully understand the gallery or the Colosseum without the complete histories.

We wandered around by the Forum and Vittoriano before heading home. Tomorrow I'm going on a day trip with some people to Assisi.

Okay I will now finally do some housekeeping and give a quick overview of Napoli before I forget.

Basically, I ate lots of food. Amanda and I stayed with Gabrielle's extended family. They were all extremely nice and, because most of them don't speak any English, it was a great way to practice Italian.

We stayed with Gabrielle's dad's cousin's ex-wife (I know). She was the sweetest old lady named Lena. I originally hadn't planned on staying the night, so she had pajamas and a toothbrush set for me. She made it her job to feed us constantly. I blame her for the fact that I now need to eat an extra 7 pastries with nutella at each meal in order to feel full.

On Saturday, we mostly admired the natural sights- Vesuvius, the ocean, views of Capri, etc. On Sunday, Lena look us into town to see the streets and go into approx. 10 million churches. Italy has to have the highest number of churches per capita. Not to suck but, after a certain amount of time, they all look the same. It was still awesome to see them though, and I am really thankful to Gabrielle's family for take care of us.

Naples has an entirely different vibe than Rome. I'm glad to be living in Rome over Naples primarily because things are closer together and it's cleaner/ more modern, but I enjoyed seeing the quintessential Italian town with laundry hanging over tiny winding roads. Those exist in Rome too, but they're mixed in with Zaras.

By the way, speaking of tiny winding roads, riding in cars in Italy is the real life version of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. Every time. I don't understand how more pedestrians aren't dead. The corners are super sharp and these tinytiny cars just zip around with no possible way (that I'm aware of??) of knowing what's around the corner.

It was raining more than half of the time we were in Naples, but it was a great trip. I am so happy to have visited the birth place of pizza. I may be behind of my Borghese history, but I am all caught up on pizza.

I tried to add over a dozen pictures of beautiful landscapes, yet for some reason this is the only image that loaded... I will deal with this later. 

You're welcome to use this as a case study on obesity

I thought I ordered pizza yesterday, but it turns out a ordered A pizza. I proceeded to walk around eating it out of the box until it was gone.

Similarly, today, I stopped for pizza twice within a 10 minute span. Ever since I was little, after I've eaten a huge meal at a restaurant, all I can think of when I pass subsequent restaurants is that the people there don't know how much I've just eaten.

Therefore, when I passed a pizza place immediately after finishing my first pizza, I had to do it. I knew that if I threw away the packaging, the people inside would have no knowledge of my gluttony... though everyone else does. Sorry, should I not make this sort of information public?

I'll have you know that I'd just walked what I'm pretty sure was the length of >3 marathons.

I gave in and got antibiotics today and, while I managed find with the bus on the way there, I had no idea how to return.

Someone told me that men and women are biologically different in how they comprehend direction/directions. Men lay out a map in their heads, while women base everything on landmarks. I have no primary source for this information, but I believe it. If I miss my landmarks, I'm screwed. This is a really bad way to orient oneself in Rome, where everything looks the same.

It has caused me a whole lot of unwanted walking. I only ever know where I am supposed to be in relation to the Vatican and Castel Sant'Angelo. After the doctor's appointment, once I started seeing signs pointing toward those, I figured I'd just walk to school. BAD PLAN. It turns out that Rome signage is done Wall Drug style. Honestly, it would be like putting a sign for Disneyland in Santa Monica, with an arrow but no distance listed. Awful.

Once, Claire and I meant to go for a walk around Lake Calhoun and ended up looping onto Lake of the Isles and Cedar Lake. Today was worse than that. It was quite lovely as usual, however "but it's so pretty!" can only work for so many miles on achey feet, before I don't actually care. It's like people who are "just so nice!". If you know what I mean, you know what I mean.

However, is was all worth it because a) I have medicine and b) the doctor was adorable. He looked like someone who would be camping in an Eddie Bauer catalog mixed with the old man version of Digory Kirke. He lives in Holland and flies to Rome for two days a week between his research and other travels. I want this man to be my grandfather, husband, and son (not at the same time).

It was a little weird how old school the practice was. To confirm my sinus infection, he had me sit on a regular chair and blow my nose in a napkin. Yes, he inspected the napkin after said procedure. :/

It's odd how Rome is a blend of being extremely modern at the same time as feeling like a small, old town. I don't even mean architecture-wise. For example, a few days ago, I didn't have enough money to pay for a sandwich at a cafe that didn't accept credit cards, so the lady gave me the sandwich and said to pay later. (I did; don't worry.) I wouldn't even expect that in Minnesota, so it was surprising and really cool that that happened in such a big city.

Okay this is all random and not important. Tomorrow I will recap my weekend in Naples.

TranQuil Time with My Bestie

The person I've spent the most time with the past few days is definitely Rick Steves. While I remain completely in love with Anthony Bourdain (#silverfox), Rick appeals to the Barefoot Contessa side of me who enjoys the finer things and speaking in a quiet voice.

Rick has the doughy, simple appearance of someone who is either a very trustworthy Lutheran or a pedophile. I've gotten to know Rick well enough through PBS to say that it's the former.

Since getting sick, I have especially cherished the hours Rick and I spend together waiting for my NyQuil to kick in. (Side note: thank you, makers of NyQuil.) I use the two hours between when my eyes adjust/ the glasses help and when my eyes get tired/ the glasses hurt, to read Rick Steves' Guide to Rome. Mind you, this particular edition was recommended to me by a very nice individual who used to live in Rome. I'd address her by name, but she's one of those people who I tell strangers that I'm friends with (i.e. "oh, my friend's sister goes to school there!), but who doesn't actually know me...

Anyway.

I've gotten so lame that I underline pieces of Rick's advice that I find particularly useful or cool. (It's clearly time for classes to start.)

For example, from Ricky: Two thousand years ago, the word "Rome" meant civilization itself. Everything was either civilized (part of the Roman Empire, Latin- or Greek-speaking) or barbarian. Today, Rome is Italy's political capital, the capital of Catholicism, and the center of the ancient world.

I can't decide if I want to go to a papal audience while I'm here. I'm not Catholic, but I can appreciate how special it would be to see the Pope. I told this kid in my Italian class who's been going to Mass every Sunday that I want to go with him one week. Potentially bad idea?

Fact: Romans consume enough wine to average one bottle per person per day. How interesting!

Vatican City is the world's smallest country.

Another: The salute with the right arm raised, flat palm down (later used by Nazis), was also Roman. More hygienic and quicker than a handshake, it fit the dynamic character of fascism.

Rickrick and I have very compatible views about the value of travel. We think that travel teaches new ways to measure quality of life. Even before I had the opportunities to do much, I have been a big believer in travel and the education it provides. Everyone prioritizes things differently, and I personally put travel extremely high on the list of what is important.

Wait, who am I. I'm totally going to become that person who conflates a life epiphany with a chocolate croissant. Sorry.