The Costs of Love

Now that you know the engagement story, I am going to introduce you into the wild and crazy world of the wedding industry in America. First off, because I am a cynic, I will constantly reiterate the fact that weddings are a business, and as much as they advertise love, people really just want you to dish out money. And now that you know that, you can continue reading.

You know those commercials by Mastercard that are like:
Lollipop: 50 cents
Time it takes to untangle the lollipop from your daughter's hair: 1 hour
Time spent with your daughter: priceless
(Obviously I just made this up)

Well, I'm going to do a little play on that, just with more categories and a heck of a lot more expensive items.
Average photographer: $1500
Average videographer: $750
Reception for 180 people with average of $30/person and 6% sales tax with 18% gratuity (standard): $6754
Church: $500
Dress with alterations and veil: $600
Stationary: $400
DJ: $800
Flowers: $300

This totals to $11,604. It doesn't include accessories, hair and makeup on the wedding day, shoes, favors, wedding attendants gifts, musicians, and the other trillion little costs that are milked from a young couple just because they want to have a decent wedding. Granted, I knew weddings weren't cheap going in, and I knew there were ways to cut it, but a decent wedding will still cost about $7000.

So this is my plea to you. Please follow us as we try to do this, and give us tips along the way. You can either email them to us at alishabrodie@gmail.com, or comment right on this post. As of now, I have posted about 30 books on Amazon to sell (Buy them! Books are good!) and a couple of movies, but since I'm 21 years old and in college that's where the selling ends. Also, there are only so many hours I can work since I am still a student in college and have classes, so unless any of you know of a job that pays $15/hour with flexible hours, that's a rough area too. And hey, if the Holy Spirit so leads you, you can always send money ;-)

But our biggest plea is to pray. Pray for us as a couple, that we would grow into the people God wants us to be, that we would be responsive to his voice, and that we can be changed into the people that we need to be for each other. And pray that we honor God in all we do, from getting a real-person job to planning a wedding-- in everything.

The Engagement Story

Hello there!

So although it has been awhile, I plan to continue writing on this blog. I originally created it for people to follow my international journey, but now I will continue it so they can follow a different sort of journey: one beginning as single, now engaged, and onto marriage. I will start with the engagement story (a modified version, of course), and quickly dive into the craziness of the wedding world- all for your enjoyment.

The engagement story:
Steven was on his way back from Pittsburgh the day after Black Friday. I was just hanging out at my house, and we were trying to decide what to do for dinner. I asked him over (because my parents actually had food for once), but he insisted on calling around and reserving a place so we could have a date. Naturally, I did not protest. After calling different restaurants for about half an hour, he called me and said he made us reservations at The Tarragon inside The Atheron Hotel.

The Tarragon is a restaurant (probably the nicest in State College) that is symbolic to us. At senior prom, we worked really hard all night to win $80 to The Tarragon and then went there for our first anniversary. On that anniversary, we gave me a promise ring that I wore everyday, which we shall revisit later in this story.

We went to The Tarragon and had a wonderful dinner. We were sitting on one of the loveseats in the lobby, cuddling and enjoying each other before we met up with friends. There were little kids running around and destroying everything, and that's when I decided it's going to be a long time before I have children. Anywho, as we were cuddling, I reached around him and felt a little box, about the size of a ring box, by his hip. I gave him a side-ways glance, vowing not to say anything because I didn't want to ruin whatever was about to happen.

He reached over and started playing with my promise ring. "What did I tell you when I gave you this?", he asked. "You said you were going to see if I was the one you were going to marry", I replied. "That's right", he said, "And I want you to move to Washington with me." "Really?", I asked, slightly surprised. And in his suave, wonderful way, he stated, "And I want you to marry me." He slide off the couch onto one knee and asked, "Alisha, will you marry me?"

At this point I'm too busy crying to say anything so I shook my head. I knew I had to actually say something, so with all that was in me, I squeaked out a "yes", and kept crying as he got back on the loveseat and wrapped me in his arms. All the while, as our lives are being rocked by love, the little kids are still running around and destroying everything, and my vow about children is still kept.

So here we are: trying to plan a wedding in 6 months, 330 miles apart, and on a very tight budget. I hope you continue with me on this journey- I can assure you it will be an interesting one :)

Finishing Italy, Finishing Summer

The flight home:

I've had a few people tell me that I need to write about my trip home just for completions sake. Since it was almost two months ago (two months, oh golly!) I'll write what I remember now. I have a scroll somewhere with that eventful day which may be posted at a later date.

My friend Jill, whom I flew over and roomed with, changed her flight to come home with me since our program ended a few days earlier than originally planned. We left our room at the convent at 9 to find the guy in charge of the keys so Jill could turn hers in. Turns out he didn't show (or was just running on Italian time), so after 20 minutes of waiting, Jill went back to the room and gave her keys to to someone else in the apartment. On a side note: I was really touched at everyone who woke up (most were out until 5) to say goodbye to us. Anyway, we trudge through the cobblestone streets one last time to get to the tram. Now, the tram is usually very functional, the drivers are great, it's smooth sailing. But on this tram, the driver stunk (it was an unusually rough ride), there was an accident or something (causing a delay), and for some reason the tram had to back up. Ever back up in a tram? It's one of those things in life that seem like it should never need to happen.

We make it to the train station, and Jill went to use the automated ticket machine as I waited in line for a real person. For some reason, the machine didn't work, so Jill waited in line with me anyway. We get the tickets, search long and wide for an elevator (down, over, up, over), made it to our platform, and finally got on the train to go to the airport.

Once we arrive at the airport, we just have to make it to our terminal. At this point we only have an hour before our flight leaves, so we have to move. And fast. All the terminals in Leonardo da Vinci airport are connected to the train station, except for Terminal 5- the one we had to go to. It was a quarter of a mile away, only accessible by car. We ended up waiting with other American college students who were on the same flight as us, which really helped calm me down. (I am quite the anxious traveler; I'd rather wait 90 minutes at the gate and know I'm getting on that plane instead of cutting it close. I feel like this is not unreasonable though.) We finally arrived at our terminal to check in, everyone in a rush, and the desk we go to look a lot like the one in Haiti. For some reason we had to check- in twice, once at the Haitian desk and once at the real desk. I don't understand the purpose of the first desk- they just checked our passports and asked us about our luggage (I don't see why, it's not like they could do anything about it anyway).

So off we go to the real desk. 45 minutes until take off. We had to use another machine before turning over our luggage. Everything worked for me (by the grace of God), but Jill's card wouldn't work, my card wouldn't work for Jill, and she didn't have enough Euros for everything (she had enough in American dollars and Euros). I turned in my luggage, the lady had to swipe me card again and it didn't work, but she let me go anyway. Jill told me to go ahead, and "whatever you do, do not let that plane leave without me". Got it. Went through security, and had to wait for another tram to take us to the main part of the airport to catch our plane. I swear, if this country could just organize themselves A LITTLE BIT, they might actually win a war or become successful at anything but eating.

I got to the gate 10 minutes before our scheduled departure, but luckily and in true Italian form, they didn't start boarding yet. I wasn't about to board the plane until Jill was with me, so I waited. And waited. They were boarding the last two zones, aka the last of the people, and I saw Jill running towards me. I cannot tell you how elated I was that a) she made it! and b) I wouldn't have to try and hold up a plane.

On a positive note, the flight over was great. The caption was very kind and realistic, and he was very good at taking off and landing (which we experienced a lot, more on that later). Flying over Europe was amazing. I loved looking down and seeing the Alps right below me, the powdered sugar snow topping the daunting structures. I loved flying over the top of the world and looking down at the thousands of ice bergs, little ice cubes in a big glass of water. I loved flying over Nova Scotia and northeast America, and then looking at a map and realizing that I saw the same exact thing from a bird's eye view. The world is beautiful, just like it's Creator.

We arrive close to Philadelphia and start circling. Circling in a plane is never a good sign when I'm on it- we always end up circling for two hours or having to go somewhere else. I believe our captain said something to the effect of, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are circling here with only about 30 minutes of fuel left, so if they don't let us land soon, we will need to go somewhere else or we will be in big trouble." Off to Atlantic City we go!

The captain estimated a 30 minute refuel. 30 minutes pass, 1 hour, 2 hours, 2.5 hours later we get our fuel. Meanwhile, we got to witness a wicked thunderstorm, complete with hail. That was actually pretty cool. 3 hours after landing, we are off to Philadelphia once again!

Now, a 3 hour delay can really mess up someone's schedule, especially if they have connecting flights. Turns out everyone did, and Philadelphia was re-organizing everything. As I said before, I'm an anxious traveler, so when I got off the plane with 45 minutes before my next flight, I was pretty much in the brink of a breakdown. Jill missed her flight, so she was rerouted to Williamsport. I had two options, and I had to make a decision pretty quick: reroute my flight to Williamsport, or try and make the State College flight. Security was a breeze, and as Jill and I were waiting to re-claim our luggage, I called my mom. And the second I heard her voice, I was way past the brink and in breakdown stage. I wanted to be home. With her, with Steven, with my family, and I just wanted everything to go right. Being the phenomenal mother she is, she calmed me down and told me my flight was delayed half an hour. Relief washed over me, I collected the pieces from my breakdown, and kind of just got angry.

Since the Philadelphia airport is the Italian airport of America, after we got our luggage we had no idea where to go since there were no signs anywhere pointing us in the right direction. Luckily, no one was in the airport it seems except for us, when the employees saw two girls running around looking very lost, they directed us where to go. We rechecked our bags, and Jill's had to go to State College even though she was going to Williamsport. I say this as sympathetically as I can: although my day was bad, Jill's was worse. But I really think it was better that everything happened to her because she is much more even-keeled than I am, a lot less emotional, and a lot more logical. If I had her day, I'd still be a puddle in the Philadelphia airport, whereas Jill would have built herself a plane and flew it home if she had to.

I finally got to my gate. I'm going to State College! I never thought I would be so happy to be returning to my hometown. They switched my gate, and then switched it again, and the plain left a half an hour after the delayed time, but I didn't really care. I was in America. I was in Pennsylvania. I was on the plane that would take me to the people I loved the most. And after the day I had, I just laughed. It was actually funny how ridiculous that day had been, starting from the key issue in the convent 16 hours earlier, and continuing until I finally got home.

I arrived in State College at 11 pm, or 5 am Italian time. I didn't even notice that I was tired because I was so anxious to see Steven and my family. Everything from that day, the Twilight Zone of traveling, melted away and didn't matter the second I was in Steven's arms. I hope I'm always as smitten for him as I have been the past 3.5 years.

I got my luggage, I got Jill's luggage, and the cherry topper on the day was that olive oil exploded in my suitcase. It was all over my new suitcase, my new and old clothes, my bedding. I told Jill and we both just laughed, because what else could we do? And it didn't matter, we were both with our families. And then I went home.

Back in America:

It took like, 5 loads to get the olive oil out of my clothes (Mrs. Holdcroft told me to use dawn. Mrs. Holdcroft is my hero). My wardrobe tripled when I finally got everything clean. I haven't done anything with my suitcase. I don't really care that much right now. It's oily now, it's going to be oily later, and I'll deal with it then.

Ever since then, I feel like I have been non-stop. I went to a wedding; did a scrapbook with Mrs. Holdcroft; took Spanish linguistics and Technical Writing (in which I wrote an 18-page paper on hockey, one of my proudest accomplishments); went to Pittsburgh 3 times: over the fourth, to visit Ashley, and as a stop on my way to Cedar Point; went to Arts Fest and hung our with Steven's family the whole weekend; celebrated Steven's 22nd birthday; hung out with Don and Sarah Jones (LOVE having them here!) and their kids; got food poisoning; worked about 15 hours a week; and still found time to sleep. My food tastes are now a blend of Italy and America; I like things a lot less sweet now, I like Italian food if it's not over-Americanized, I don't like creamy things, and all I want to eat are vegetables. I eat meat maybe twice a week, and I don't miss it.

I started reading "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert this past Friday. Her first stop was in Rome. I miss Rome. It's an amazing city, dare I say the most amazing in the whole world. I think about Rome and my whole stay abroad everyday. I think of my time in England and Germany fondly, but I really want to return to Rome someday. Even though it's inefficient and slow, Italy is beautiful, pleasant, relaxing, has the most amazing food in this world (no lie, seriously. Go and find out.), and most importantly, gives you a new perspective on humanity, time, God, and the world.

Maybe I'll keep writing, maybe not. I start my last fall semester as a Penn State student on Monday. I have 16 credits and I'll be working 10 hours a week. I already have plenty of weekend trips and social activities planned, just to keep me thoroughly busy. And I'm training for a half-marathon and running on December 5th.

*sigh* Life is good.

England: The First Few Days

Wednesday:

Wednesday was a weird day. And by weird, I mean unpleasant.

Morning: hiked about 4 miles away from our home in Trastevere thanks to our awesome teacher's horrible communication skills. Tiring and annoying.

Afternoon: sat in class for 2 hours, doing things none of us really cared about. Bring on another paper- this time 10 pages. As therapy, I bought myself a new duffle since mine broke on the way home from Berlin.

Evening: left for England. The plane didn't start boarding until 9:10, which was our departure time. Italians were yelling, which was an experience. We then sat on the runway for 30 minutes, and left at 10:10. Slightly irritated; continues my rant about Italian efficiency. When I arrived in London, we had to go to the complete opposite side of the airport, but luckily there was shuttle. At customs, the Brit asked me about 27394 questions, all of which were slightly ridiculous. ("What is the address of the place you are staying? Are you planning to buy anything? What will you be doing here? Do you have a boarding pass to get home? Since you don't, how are you planning to get one?") I knew I was giving him a look, which he then proceeded to say, "These are all pretty standard questions, and you are looking at me like I'm stupid." To which I replied, "Okay". Yes, I do think these are stupid questions. Get off my back.

I found Lynnea and slept like a rock that night. Without earplugs :)

Thursday:

We headed down to Kingston with her two kids, Sianna (4) and Roman (1). We took Lynnea's "shortcut" through Bushey Park, which turned out to be pretty long and was complete with stinging nettles- all in pursuit of Hampton Court Palace. Hampton Court Palace is where Henry VIII lived, as well as William II and Mary II. Side note: I wish royalty would have been creative with their names instead of using the same names with different numbers. I had a little over an hour, to which everyone working there was like "Oh my, you're late!" Thanks, just let me in. I got to see the important stuff, like Henry's kitchen and dining room and William and Mary's apartments. William was a snob- he had a throne in every room! He also had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, two closets... What? Does this guy have an alternate personality that he needs to share all his stuff with? But I guess when you are royalty, extravagance is key. Took a ferry ride back and ate at an Asian restaurant called Wagamamas which is huge here. It was delicious!

Friday:

We went to Stonehenge! Now, I like history and amazingly cool things, and Stonehenge was really cool, but there's only so much time you can spend there before it looks like a bunch of big rocks. Every picture looks the same. But I can cross it off my bucket list. We had a little picnic there, which was nice and relaxing. England looks a lot like PA in terms of weather, land, etc, so it was nice just sitting in the middle of nothing and greennesss and looking forward to going back to the States.

That evening, Lynnea took me out in London. We went to a "proper" British pub ("proper" is the adjective of choice here; used in many contexts) where the World Cup game was on. I loved it! But yet again I am a sucker for sports and sports fanatics. We then headed to grab some pizza since we didn't have dinner, and then off to a dance club called The Langley. We then met up with Lynnea's sister, Katrina, and her friends which was awesome! We went into a tavern and just relaxes, which was so nice. Then Katrina took us to the bar where her boyfriend works as a bartender. There were three behind the counter making drinks, and everyone kept telling me that these three have been voted time and time again as the top bartenders in the UK, with Victor (Katrina's bf) always in the top 15. They were mesmorizing to watch- they made it an art! Very memorable :)

Saturday:

Lynnea took me down to Brighton Beach, which is a major tourist attraction. We had proper (see?! always used!) fish and chips, which was delicious although I felt like I needed to run 15 miles afterwards. We then played on the beach with Sianna and Roman, which was adorable. The beach is covered in stones, which I love because that meant it wouldn't jam up my camera like sand does. Then we walked along the pier and got Rock Candy, which is only found along the coast in England. All you need to know is it's lots of sugar. This day is when I discovered how crappy England's weather is- it was freezing! And really cloudy, then sunny, oh- then it looked like the apocolypse was coming, and then it was gorgeous again! Then I got to meet Nikke, Lynnea's friend, and then we headed home for a chill night. We Skyped with the Holdcroft kids, which was awesome for Lynnea because she doesn't get to see them a lot. After, we made Grandma Arnold's black bean dip. Best thing ever.

Sunday:

It was Father's Day here in England too, as well as Saher's (Lynnea's husband) birthday, so we all headed out to London. We went to Camden Town; Lynnea said it best: "This is the only place in the city were you can dress like a total freak and still fit in." It was the "alternative" part of town, complete with punks, goths, etc., but there were tons and tons (or "loads and loads" as they say here) of markets. It was so much busier than Rome or Berlin, which was awesome. Also, there are TONS of Spaniards in London, and although my minor is Spanish, I couldn't understand them because of the way they speak!

After that, we saw Big Ben and walked along the Thames. We saw tons of different things, like the arts center, Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (sweet!!), London Bridge, Tower Bridge, St. Peter's Cathedral, etc. Thoroughly exhausting, but amazing nonetheless.

Right now I'm being a bum. It's a free day for me, so I could head back into London, which would take an hour or so, or hang around here in Leatherhead. I'm feeling run into the ground physically, mentally, and socially, and my bank account is feeling the brunt of the cost of being in England (it's so darn expensive!!), so although I want to see Buckingham palace, I may just stay here. Since I have been here, a reoccuring theme of my thoughts has been about human existence. Sure, these places are old, but where are these people now? Six feet underground. And that's what is going to happen to me as well. In the end, will it matter that I spent load of money to see all these things? No, it won't, which is why I don't feel a passion to see any more buildings. What will matter, as reiterated by my devotions this morning, is that I was God's hands and feet everyday and I made an impact to someone that needs it. It doesn't matter if it's the the guides in the historical places, the woman at the coffee shop, or the man driving the bus. Everyone needs God and His love. Period.

Deutschland

Thursday:

On Thursday after class I fled Italy for Germany- and I was anxious to go! It's hard to get me excited about a lot of things because I immediately think about things like logistics, time, money, and the like. But I was pumped for Berlin! Especially since the logistics were worked out, time was budgeted, and money wasn't an issue.

After being thoroughly fed up with the Italian way of life, I landed in Berlin to a beautiful sunset. I always get my first impressions from the airplane window, and this city is lush, green, and kind of swampy, but in a tasteful, pretty way. Sarah met me at the airport, and then we headed diagonally through the city to their apartment. That night, I got a complete overview of the World Cup from Don, especially the low down on the German team (who the Germans feel iffy about because their goalie is hurt. FYI.) And then I wrote an outline for the paper/powerpoint I have to present on Monday. Holler.

Friday:

The next day, I got to meet Jenna, their almost-three-year old daughter who wasn't around the last time I saw them, and re-meet Dane, who is now almost five (he was about a year old when they came to Germany). Jenna looked me up and down about three times, and then had to decide if I was okay. She approved :) We dropped the kids off at Kita, which is a pre-school/kindergarten mix, and the one that they go to is bilingual. I also had pancakes for breakfast. First real breakfast since coming to Europe. Score!

Then Don took me around the city. And around, and around, and around... Berlin isn't terribly large. It's about 3 million people, which is the same as Rome. I have seen it enough times to recognize things and where they are, but walking for the first time is certainly tiring. But I did get the Don Jones version of German history, which was almost as good as Romolo's version of Greek philosophy. And that's saying something. We saw the Brandenburg gate (where Ronald Reagan made his "Mr. Gorbachov, tear down this wall!" speech and JFK made his "I am a doughnut" speech), US and French Embassies, annoying soccer fans with their stupid and horribly irritating horns, churches, literal "pieces" of history, the Holocaust memorial, Checkpoint Charlie, and tons of other places.

We walked mostly through the East part of Berlin because that was, by far, the dominant part. Check out a map of where Berlin is located in Germany, and you'll know why. German history over the past 80 years has been quite horrible, and they are still feeling the effects of it. There are gold stones on the streets outside of apartments where Jews lived and taken during the Holocaust stating their name, where they were born, when they were taken and what concentration camp they were taken to. People are making decisions about what to do about the white crosses that commemorate those who were trying to escape the East and go to the West and died for it. A lot of Germans want nothing to do with it and erase their past, but as people know, that will (unfortunately) never be an option.

In between being blown away by visible remnants of German history, we grabbed a German version of fast food. We got what was called doner (with umlautes over the "o"), which is the German version of a gyro. It's a mix of shaved and seasoned meat on a bread, and I got a mix of spicy and "ranch" sauces with purple cabbage, lettuce, tomatoes, and some sort of cucumber/tomato blend. It comes highly recommended. We also went to this really cool store called "Ampleman"'. When the city was still divided, the East had little men on their pedestrian lights that were known as Ampleman. When the wall was torn down, the East fought long and hard to keep their Ampleman, and now they are something trendy to wear around. I just loved something about it...

By the way, Berlin has Starbucks. Nowhere in Italy does a Starbucks exist. Just saying.

Then we got the kids from Kita, and Dane was not in the same clothes we took him in. Apparently this is a frequent problem, which is hilarious for me but certainly not for Don. I then got a taste of German public transportation, which is similar to Italian transportation, but just better. I also got a taste of how horribly people raise their kids here. There is no discipline, no rules, no manners. And that equals A TON of hooligans that I just want to smack.

We then headed over to a picnic with part of the missionary team at Don and Sarah's good friends house, Ben and Sarah Carey. Ben actually roomed with Paul Allen in college, and I help out Paul and Becca at the State College CMA. The world is really smaller than we think. On our way over, Don thought he would give me the real Berlin experience and we could ride the bikes over. I thought, "Hey, no problem, I road bike at least 3 times a week". Naturally, it was a problem. Road bikes and cruisers are completely different. Cruisers have huge tires that grip the ground instead of rolling over it. And cruisers use their pedals to break, so riding and dismounting is an art. Especially with a two year old on the back. I made pretty little S-shapes in the pavement because I was swerving so much, and I'm sure Don was laughing at me the whole way. Jenna had a great time though- she sang "Drunken Sailor" the whole way.

Anyway, Sarah Carey is an AMAZING cook. She made Thai food, which was fantastic. Basically, all I did on Friday was eat and be all emotional because of Berlin's historic past as told by a guy who was really influential in my life and Ian's in our teenage years. We then watched the second game of the World Cup. Once you watch the World Cup in Europe, you will be a changed person. Seriously.

We then rode back through the streets of Berlin in the dark, breezy, warm night, this time without the kids. It was easily one of my favorite moments since I left America, and even in America. It was romantic, freeing, relaxing- I loved it. I did almost fall over a few times at intersections because Sarah is about 3 inches taller than me, but as I was cruising, it was wonderful. What was also wonderful is that I got to talk to my boyfriend for the first time in two weeks. I cannot tell you exactly what I felt in that moment, or what I feel in all the moments when we finally get together in some capacity, but it is one of the best feelings in the world. I'm so excited to Skype with him this week and see him, and I'm anxious to return to his arms...

Saturday:

On Saturday, I actually got to sleep in! Probably the third time I have been able to do that since May 9th. We walked around the neighborhood close to the Jones' apartment, which was awesome! First we went to a Turkish bakery. There is a HUGE Turkish population in Berlin due to Communism. When the wall was being built (there were actually two walls with a "no man's land" in between), the East (Communists) hired Vietnamese to build their wall and the West hired Turks to build their wall. When the wall was completed, the East shipped the Vietnamese back, whereas the West didn't force the Turks to do anything. Now they are just here and actually cause a lot of problems in the city. But they can bake. I got a pretzel bun type deal, and no complaints.

We then walked by Open Door Geminde, which is the church that Don and Sarah have been working with for the past 4 years. It wasn't open, but it was nice to just see their work here. Then it was off to a playground, and let me tell you, the playgrounds here are sweet! They have all the stuff that America doesn't because Americans sue all the time, like see-saws, jumping apparatuses, and wooden jungle gyms. Problem: sand. I hate sand. Why is there always sand?!

Then we all hopped in the car for a driving tour of the west part of Berlin. There's not a ton of difference, but there's enough evidence still standing to differentiate, like the TV tower and the huge apartment buildings of the East. We drove to the Olympic Stadium which was cool just to see even though we couldn't go in. There's a "Jesse Owens Drive" right outside, which is interesting considering Jesse Owens dominated Hitler's prized Germans in the 1936 Olympics. And the last time I checked, if you made Hitler mad, there weren't good results. Hence my shock at the dedicated drive to his name.

After, we went for ice cream at this organic place. Words like "organic", "green", and "environmental" have become like nails against a chalkboard for me due to America's overuse and misuse of the terms. But this place was banging! I had kiwi ice cream, and I cannot explain to you the deliciousness of it. "Wunderbar!" as they say here (with umlautes, of course).

Then we headed over to a "goodbye" picnic for Don and Sarah put on by their team. There are three couples that make up the team: Don and Sarah with their kids, Ben and Sarah and their kids, and Jerry and Shelly Kragt with their kids. They are all tight-knit and the kids refer to the adults as "Aunt" or "Uncle" and all sort of raise each other's kids. I love that system! Once again, the food was delicious. There was a meat-loaf, hamburger type thing that was seasoned, potatoes with honey-mustard and dill, and fresh fruits and veggies which I was all over.

We came home, I put the kids to bed so Don and Sarah could see friends, watched America blow England away in a tie (note to England: your goalie made a horrible mistake, might want to work on that)- GO AMERICA!!!, talked to my family for an hour because the Jones' can call America unlimited for only 4 Euro more a month (it started with my mom for 5 minutes, then my dad for like, 30, then I found out Ian was there so I talked to him, then Brenda, then finally back to the person who brought me into this world- moms always get gipped), talked to Steven (!!!), and had a wonderful German beer called Beck's. Highly recommended.

In short, it has been an amazing weekend and I have loved every second of it :) I'm actually sad to go back to Rome. Usually I am so antsy to go back because I am used to it and I love it so much, but it pales in comparison to the community and atmosphere that is here. I'll be interested to see how England compares.

I(sfj). Definitely.

In the psychology world, there is a personality-typing test called Meyer's-Brigg's (and sometimes Jung) for the three men who created it. It is 70 questions and determines 4 aspects of your personality: Introvert or Extrovert, Intuition or Sensing, Feeling or Thinking, and Judging or Perceiving. Jill loves this test and analyzes everyone she meets upon it. In fact, a few days back, her mom jokingly told her that she is surprised that Jill hasn't given it to everyone on this trip to take yet.

It's based upon the theory that states that there are two major "functions" in life: how we take in information and how we make decisions. The first letter is Introverted or Extraverted, so if someone prefers small group and limited interaction or large group and constant interaction. The next is how a person takes in information, either through Sensing (by the senses) or iNtuition (through logic and a mental process). The next is how they make decisions, via Feeling (emotional reactions) or Thinking (logical reactions). The final letter is based upon how we deal with day-to-day life, through purposeful, scheduled, and structured environments (Judging), or through open, casual, and flexible environments (Perceiving). Based upon that, there are a possible 16 different personality types.

I am an ISFJ. This means I really like my alone time, I take in things through my senses, I react and make decisions on how I feel, and I really like things to be structured. All of these areas have been tested for me so far, but the one that is killing me right now is my introverted-ness. I always need time to detox, to have a place where I can go that no one else will be. Jill's dad has his "man cave", and that's an accurate description of what us introverts need. And when we don't get it, no matter how Thinking we may be, we just want to beat someone up.

That's how I'm feeling right now. I have absolutely no time to myself, which I guess is expected since I live with 13 other people. But there's always someone in my room, on the terrace, everywhere I go. Yes, I can go out and do things in the city by myself and I'm fine with it, but that's not really the solution. Since I am quite introverted, it takes a lot of energy for me to go out; after, I still need down time, so I'm doubly exhausted. I'm just really frustrated. Once I was trying to Skype with Steven and there were 6 people in my bedroom (which for me is a sacred place.. just go with it) and 10 in the living room. I resorted to Skyping in the bathroom because it's the only quiet place, but it's not like I can go in there to hang out all the time. And that's just kind of gross.

So that's my biggest challenge at this point. Today we sat through 6 hours of presentations at the Food and Agriculture Organization part of the United Nations. That was a lot to absorb. When I got out, I felt overwhelmed, exhausted, frustrated, and incredibly stressed out, just like I feel every single day of every single semester. What I really needed was alone time, but unlike home, there is no possible way I'm getting that here. But it was really good information, and I think it's really cool that these people are presenting to us- and only us. This is definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I could never have this back at home.

But I am going to Berlin on Thursday (awesome!!), so that will give me some time to get back to reality, away from this atmosphere, and recharge a bit. But before then, I need to write two papers and do a powerpoint for my presentation on Monday on the current economic situation and food price crises effect on nutrition. Sweet.

For your own curiosity, you can take it here: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/jtypes2.asp. And you can read about your result at www.personalitypage.com. Just type in your four letters and it will give you a profile of your personality type, best partner personalities, best jobs, etc.

A Weekend of Walking

This weekend has been exhausting, but I wouldn't trade it for anything- even the frustrating parts! Jill and I estimated that we walked at least 7 miles on Saturday, and I think I walked about the same today.

Friday

Beach soccer:

Every week, one of the secretaries (known as one of "Romolo's Women") emails us with a recipe and suggested things to do around Rome that week. One of this week's suggestions was to check out the European Beach Soccer tourney held in Circus Maximus. Naturally, I was all over that. There were 8 teams: Italy, Spain, Portugal, France, Switzerland, Hungary, Poland, and Russia. Overall impressions: Italy's team is full of wimps- they fell down at every chance. No wonder everyone hates them. Spain: great team! But they depend too much on individual talent as opposed to team playing. Portugal: slightly girly, but an overall great team! France: they are wimps as well, but in the emotionally-charged realm. They are more willing to punch an opposing team member and say it's the other person's fault. Once again, no wonder people hate them. Switzerland: very kind and plays well. No strong opinions either way. HUNGARY: my favorite team! The median age was older than the other team, but their ball handling and body control was above the other teams. Poland: Eh, no strong opinions. Russia: surprisingly VERY good! They beat Spain- the two time winner of the cup.

The difference between beach soccer and real soccer is vast. Beach soccer takes place on a square court, probably a quarter the size of a normal field. The grass is replaced by sand, and it's 5 on 5. Goalies don't have an area where they have to stay, and it's perfectly acceptable for the defense to be in the net with a goalie. There are two refs and an out-of-bounds, but it's pretty lax. Whenever a player has to kick the ball to start the clock again, he makes a little mound out of sand to put the ball on, like a football player has his tee. There is also three 12-minute periods instead of halves. Oh, and in beach soccer they have the world worst dancers in between periods. Classic.

Saturday

The Vatican:

Yesterday we woke up at 7 to head to the Vatican, which is about a 25 minute walk. Our tickets were reserved for 8, so we were speed walking the entire time. We made it to the Basilica at 8, but then we had to haul it to the museum entrance, which is at least 1/2 mile away. So we asked this very tired looking officer what to do, and he directed us. Not hard- just go down a bit, take a left, go down some more, take a left, stroll pass the huge line, talk to another guard at the door, and you're in. Easy beans. By the time we got to the reception desk where they would print our already reserved tickets, it was about 8:30, but I should have known I reserved them from 8 o'clock Italian time, which is different than 8 o'clock American time.

We then saw a sign for a coffee bar inside the museum, so we high tailed it over to where it was pointing. But just like finding the museum, it was a maze. Since it was to the right, left, down two flights of stairs, around the flight of stairs and down the corridor (which was closed- boo!), we should have realized that this museum was bigger than any other that I have been in. In short, Jill and I blew through that thing in 2 hours, Sistine Chapel and all. Now, I must clarify that we didn't sprint through there and that we don't have an appreciation for all the amazing things there. But it was just so big and it was our first time there, so we didn't know how to pace ourselves. So we got a basic overview of EVERYTHING, and when we return, we'll know what to focus on, what to skip, etc. The Sistine Chapel was awesome, but like everything else in the Vatican Museum, there was a lot going on and it was slightly overwhelming. I finally found the Creation of Man, which was pretty moving. My other favorite painting depicted the fall of man, and I thought that was deep too.

After that, Jill and I thought it manditory to get some caffeine, so we went back to the coffee shop which was open then. We had a pretty deep discussion about personalities for about an hour in the courtyard, which was awesome. Then we headed back to the church, after asking a guard for directions. His response: "Go outside". Um, thanks for nothing. But we prodded despite his unwillingness to give free information, and we finally made it back to the Basilica. However, when we got to the Basilica, we went over to the only official-looking people on duty to ask where we go to get into the church. Remember the tired-looking guard from before? He was still on duty! He was probably thinking "Oh, these poor American girls have no idea what's going on." But he was very kind, which was refreshing! He told us that from the museum there was a way to get to the church and we didn't have to backtrack 1/2 mile. "But I am a gentleman", he said. And he just opened the gate and gave let us through so we could skip the 2 hour line!! He was a gentleman!! I definitely felt blessed by that.

Jill and I are both American protestants, which means we know little to nothing about Catholicism. Keep that in mind through the rest of the story. We were in the Basilica, the most famous and beautiful in all the world- and we were creeped out and confused. Why are there real size replicas of dead popes in caskets everywhere? Why are there popes everywhere and only one little statue of a dead Jesus in the dim back corner? Don't they know Jesus is alive?! If I speak in a normal voice as opposed to hushed tones, what happens? Although I didn't understand pretty much anything in there, I could appreciate the sheer beauty of the place. But why does it have to make such a point? It's not about where you worship... But do Catholics worship? Huh, seems like I need to do some research.

Then we went to the underground tombs of the popes. That was actually pretty cool because it was just a super-fancy cemetary. I was so excited to see Pope John Paul II's tomb, but unfortunately so was everyone else. They had a place set up in front of it where people could kneel and pray. Pray to whom and why, I'm not sure, I just wanted a picture. I asked the guard, who brought me over to a picture that had a camera with a big red x on it and told me to take a picture of that. I didn't understand, so I asked "What?" at least five times, and the funny part is he repeated it five times. Jill got it though, but neither of us were happy about it.

Finally we headed to the Cupola, which is just a fancy word for a dome. It took at least 15 minutes of solid stair-climbing to get there, but it was worth it! On our way up, the corridors got smaller and smaller and eventually curved like the dome did . It was very interesting! At the top you could see all of Rome. It was amazing! And so beautiful! Then we climbed all about the roof, which was sweet. How many people can say they strolled on the roof of St. Peter's Basilica?

Then we went home to more beach soccer with horrible dancers.

Sunday

I decided that today was the day I was going to go to the Methodist church I found online. I grew up Methodist, so I figured it wouldn't be a stretch for me to go. It was close to the Vatican, so even though I left in plenty of time, I wandered a little and was still 5 minutes late. Methodists are very conservative people so I was shocked to see how many different nations were represented in the service. There were a lot of Asians and Africans, and the pastor was Dutch. There was only about 50 people there, but it was diverse! I could keep up with everything I remembered except for Communion. I don't remember going to an alter and holding hands when I was younger, so I decided to pass on that part. Overall, it was a great experience, and it was fun to go back and sing hymns the whole time :)

Then I went to find Villa Borghese. No one really knew what Villa Borgese was, but it comes highly recommended so I decided to go. It took me about half an hour to walk there, which was frustrating. When I finally got to the Villa, it took another half an hour to walk to the Gallery because none of the streets were adequately labeled in Villa or on the awesome map I was using, so I had to ask a lot of Indians for directions. I made it to the museum on time, but I was dizzy, lacking appreciation for art due to the fact I was worked up about the place, and I smelled pretty offensive. But the museum was surprisingly awesome! It had works in there from Caravaggio and Bernini, which I thought was so impressive. After I was out, I grabbed a pamphlet and read that the gallery was the Borghese family house (which was huge and covered in marble), and the art in there was mostly what belonged to the Borghese family- they had expensive taste. The land where the Villa is located is now a huge park, but it used to be the family's former estate. For those who have been to the Biltmore estate in North Carolina, it reminded me A LOT of that. Overindulgence, overspending, unnecessary everything- pretty much all the same.

Then I tried to find Nicole and Jill, and got lost again. Since I was dizzy, frustrated at constantly being lost, and smelly, I ended up just breaking down in the middle of the place. Jill helped me out and was very patient and talked me through it. I eventually found them and just ordered what I was craving, which turned out to be 24 Euro. CHOKE! In conclusion, I'm not spending money until Thursday because that is absolutely ridiculous. It didn't help my frustration level.

So although I well fed, I was still poorer than when I started, so Jill and I went to a free flute and harp concert with our friend Zach. It was two sisters in their twenties who played together beautifully. It did make me really sleepy, but I managed to stay awake. Now I'm just being lazy and enjoying life because the next three days are going to stink with my schoolwork that I have to do. But I'm headed to Berlin on Thursday, and I'm so excited!!

The Jewish Ghetto

A few days ago, Ashley asked me if I found my favorite spot or favorite place to go. I answered Circus Maximus because I do love the open area, the backdrop of Palentine Hill, and the fact that I can run and run without any inhibitions. But I do also love the Jewish Ghetto.

The Jewish Ghetto is directly across the river from where we live in Trestevere. It's about 100 yards long, and it was the first place we passed through on our first day here, and it's possible to walk through it everyday on our way to class. At some point in Rome's history, the Jews were getting too lofty and out of control, so there was a segregation between the Romans and the Jews. All the Jews migrated to one spot, and their businesses are still there today.

Jews get a stigma in America, or at least among my age group, because they are morally pure, devout to God, and are willing to follow a strict legalistic code which is something a lot of 20 year-olds don't understand. Plus, they are always the businessmen; the richest and yet most frugal; the bankers; the lawyers; basically the people that help keep America running. All that to say that it was interesting to be submerged in a "Little Israel" in the middle of Rome- two things a lot of us knew very little about.

In America, if I heard of a place on a map called "Jewish Ghetto" I would expect a lot of banks, law/accounting offices, and some food places. Well, in true Italian form, the Jewish Ghetto here has no banks, no offices of any sort, but a whole lot of eateries. For the past few weeks, my friends and I have stopped at a little cafe, Caffe del Portico, for some awesome paninis, great cafe americano, and delicious espresso (it helps that they have a sugar/coffee/cream mixture that they put on top- DELICIOUS!!) They people there recognize us, and we give them pretty decent business.

But today a few of us decided to branch out. We went to one of the two Jewish Kosher restaurants, and it was pretty pricey. But in true Alisha form, I got two small dishes that were filling and totaled less than one entree. The first dish I got was rice balls, which is a traditional Roman dish. They mix rice, a tomato sauce, and some cheese, mush it into a ball, bread it and deep fry it. Now, I'm not usually into deep frying, but this was tasty. Props! The second dish I got was grilled vegetables. It came with a side salad of bitter Italian greens, which I have developed a taste for since arriving. They put the grilled vegetables on a skewer, and it included a huge chunk of onion (which I didn't eat because of their awesome allyl compounds), red pepper slices, a huge chunk of egg plant, a little mushroom, and two zucchini slices with kosher salt for seasoning. Wonderful!

I was definitely impressed. We then went to our little cafe and had cafe americano, which is still kickin' in my blood stream. Since I had a lot of energy, Jill and I went shopping to knock off some of the things on my list, although I only knocked off one: decent sandals. I found a pair of Birkenstocks that look feminine for 45 Euro. On the websites they are usually 90 Euro. Regardless, I think spending a comparably larger portion of money on a decent pair of shoes is okay. Shoes need to be comfortable, well made, and long lasting. I know Birks are, so that swayed me. I also found an amazing perfume scent that I love, but I couldn't justify buying that. I'll sleep on it.

Today we switched teachers for my architecture class from Rambling Romolo Martamucci to David Sabatello. Romolo was very abstract and philosophical and diverged a lot from his intended point- very hard to follow. David is completely different. Instead of lecturing, he engages the students. Maybe it was because I was flying on caffeine, but I found him thoroughly interesting. It was also in a learning style I was accustomed to: powerpoint of buildings in Rome, intermixing history, architecture, and nutrition. Very hard to do, but he was great at it. I can imagine my dad sitting in it, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous things people think up. In fact, I made a few comments that I could hear coming out of my dad's mouth, as well as eye rolls I've seen him do. I could see Steven sitting there just being confused at the logic of it all, and eventually poo-pooing it all. Both are very entertaining scenarios.

On our way back from class, we went to the Jewish Ghetto again because they have the BEST bread in the city there. I have had a lot of pizza bianca (flatbread with olive oil and salt) since I have been here, and the Arte de Pane has the best around. It was closed for "siesta" (yes, they do that in Italy, too!), so we headed home slightly downtrodden. But we saw a bakery that was open, so we let our sweet-tooths (sweet-teeth?) lead and we went it. Good decision! They have homemade gelato (by the way, coconut gelato is by far the best flavor ever), cheesecakes, mini cheesecakes, streudel, bread, pies, and muffins. Jill got a muffin, Annie got streudel, and I got sunflower seed bread which is INCREDIBLE. Hello, dinner! It was 6 Euros which is extremely steep, but if I can feed my for dinner, breakfast, lunch, and maybe dinner the next day, I would say that's a well spent 6 Euros. We found out this place is an Austrian Jewish bakery in Rome. Crazy! And the bags were in German :)

A lot of people in my program are crazy and like to have a lot of fun all the time. But we almost got into a serious conversation at lunch. There were 6 of us- Jill (my fellow Christian) and I, and 4 others who weren't really religious in any capacity which is common at Penn State. We started talking about agnosticism, which lasted about 60 seconds, but it just goes to show that what I revolve my life around (Jesus) and not even on their radar, and thus our conversations are so different. It's hard for me.

Another thing that's hard is all the gossiping and mocking other people- complete strangers that they know nothing about. Like, what gives them the right to do that? Nothing! I guess because I grew up in a "non-conventional" family- parents with physical differences- I empathize a lot more with people. I'm like Anne Frank in that way- I believe everyone is good underneath because it has been proven to me time and time again throughout my life. It just makes me want to cry when they make fun of people they don't even know. But I have learned that I need to stick up for the other person because the conversation stops, which is the way it should be.

Also, since I am ranting/relaying information/getting it all out, there's a common thought among my age group that America stinks and it needs changed. Um, WRONG. There are very few countries in the world that are based upon freedoms, thus giving the chance to excel even in bad circumstances. There are also very few countries that are as functional as the American government and economy. I am not saying America is perfect because we live in a fallen world, so just like people aren't perfect neither are countries or governments (i.e. Rahm Emmanuel and Bill Clinton). But going places like Mexico, Peru, Haiti, and Italy has strengthened my patriotism and opinions that America is the best country in the world. It is a blessed country, which is undeniable. Maybe my generation needs to read a little more in the newspaper or just get out a little more, but America does not stink, and America does not need drastic changes. Period. I believe that because of what America was founded upon- Christian principles- God is favorable toward us, hence all of our blessings. But sin always creeps in...

This got a lot longer than I was intending, but this is where my thoughts are at. It's hard for me to live with my fellow students because I live on a completely different wavelength. It's something I'm not used to, but it's a good challenge and a good practice in empathy on the flip side of the coin. Maybe, just maybe, things can change before we leave...

Giunio

It's June! Which means I am over halfway done with this program.. ridiculous!

This morning I had the three hour international nutrition class. This is pretty much the world's most intense nutrition class. Yesterday, after our first three hour class, our homework was to look at 4 websites and come up with 3 questions for each, read a three page article on the determinants of nutrition, and read a 50 page packet on global economics related to international nutrition. It's actually a very interesting class, and despite it being a lot of work, I know I'm going to learn a lot.

This class makes me feel no different than I usually do in all my Penn State classes: the only conservative and the only skeptic, or at least the only one that's willing to speak up about it. I'm used to it, but it's just interesting now that it's on a much smaller scale: 19 people vs. 70 people. And my teacher actually knows my name- and that's weird.

I wish my dad was in that class with me. I know he would find it very interesting and he could add a ton to the discussion just because of the natural gifts he has with understanding world issues, governments, and economics. As I sit in class, I think about what he would say- I try to put myself in his shoes and think like he does because he is a very wise man. I would like Steven there too, but my dad has learned tact over the years and tends to step on people's toes less. I also try to have tact while standing up for what I believe in. It's an interesting challenge, but enjoyable. (It's also a self-esteem booster when I say something and people think it's ridiculous, irrelevant, or stupid and the teacher says it's great or that I'm RIGHT- gives me confidence in this mind that God gave me!)

Then I came back and had lunch. I'm tired of eating in Italy. The food is great, but the culture is so food-oriented that it's just a little overwhelming. Since it was a nice day, I wanted to go do something on my "Rome bucketlist", but naturally and like every other hour of my life, I couldn't find anyone to go. But darn it, I wanted to see the Colosseum, and I didn't care that I was going alone!

My friend Thalia told me that people stand outside and wait for English-speakers to walk by and convince them to join a tour group. Luckily, someone did approach me; I don't know all the cool things about the place, so it is always helpful to have an educated leader. I paid 25 Euro and got a guided tour of the Colosseum, Palentine Hill, and the Roman Forum. I would say that was a very good use of 25 Euro.

Anyway, the Colosseum is so darn photographable it's amazing! It used to be a lot more beautiful- covered in marble, had an overhang for shade, decorated- but I thought it was perfect to capture the skeleton of one of the most famous places in the world. The reason it's not as beautiful is due to the earthquake in 1334 A.D. that destroyed most of it and because of the Renaissance. Renaissance=recycling in Rome; the popes ordered churches to be built to try and kick start Rome's greatness again. Problem: resources were scare. Solution: there were LOTS of resources in already existing structures, like the Colosseum! Enter: St. Peter's Basilica. The ONLY reason it's beautiful and amazing is due to the fact that the Colosseum and other structures around Rome have holes and missing pieces from them.

Palentine Hill is another one of those places that got ripped off. It is where all the emperor's had their palaces, and it overlooks Circus Maximus. It was great to finally go into- I run past it whenever I run in Circus Maximus. Palentine Hill used to have the most rare, expensive, and beautiful gems in all the world, but once again- they are in the Vatican.

The Roman Forum was just desimated by flooding of the Tiber and sediment deposits over hundreds of years. The Forum is where the Roman Senate was, and great announcements, speeches (like the one after Julius Caesar's death) and executions proceeded. I went to the Forum before, as evidenced by album 1 of Italy, but this time I actually went in. It's always nice to get a new perspective.

Well, break's over. Off to do three modules online. One is estimated to take two hours. Wish me luck!

T-9 days until I'm off to Berlin!

Ew, illnesses!

Please pray that I don't get sick here! There is something going around, and a lot of people have been getting really dizzy, vomiting, etc. I only had a sore throat for about a week (it felt like I sneezed spears when I sneezed, and it hurt to swallow as well), but pray that I can be healthy from everything else!

Much thanks!

Southern Trip part 2

On Saturday Annie and I headed to Capri. Like I said, it's a tiny island off the southern tip of the peninsula, about a 30 minute ferry ride from Sorrento. What I didn't know is that people consider Capri paradise, and people such as the Moussilinis, the president of Ferrari, and Sophia Loren all have houses on this little getaway. There are hotels that cost 1,000 Euro/night (for what, I don't know) and top-of-the-line fashion and restaurants (I bought an espresso thinking it would be a Euro or two, just like everywhere else in Italy. It was 4.50. It was good, but I was mad).

The first thing we did when we got off the ferry was take a two hour boat ride around the island. It was a reasonably price, but they didn't tell us that this price did not include going into the Blue Grotto. The Blue Grotto is a little cave that you can row into. It's highly recommended, but I would have liked more if I didn't have to shell out another 11.50 to see it. It is an experience though. These little row boats approach the big boat and we hop on in. There can only be 4 people per boat, because it gets a little tight when going into the cave. The hole is about three feet by two feet- just enough to fit the row boats in. We had to lay down to get through, and our guide basically laid on top of us. Once we were in, it's pretty dark and pretty small and they row you to the back of the cave. Once there, you can turn around and it looks really cool- the water was this crazy color of blue because of the sun and it reflected all around the cave. The guide of the row boats that were in there had a little song to a beat of a drum because this is where the Sirens of Greek mythology supposedly stayed. It was a beautiful song and my guide had a great voice, but not 11.50's worth of goodness was experienced in that cave. Maybe 7.50. Maybe.

After that, we went to eat. Whenever I'm out, I always find a little place with paninis because they are cheaper than everything else. Paninis are grilled sandwiches, and I always get caprese because that's the cheapest and most delicious one- it has tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, basil, and olive oil with toasted bread. Always a delight. Next we went up to the town of Capri to get to Anacapri, another town on the other side of the island. Anacapri reminded me a lot of Peru as far as the economy and state of the houses were concerned. We took a swing up to the top of Anacapri, which was the highest point of the island. Thus far we had been underneath, around, and atop the island- not too shabby. The view was AMAZING and I would say the best thing I did that day. We decided to hike down just because I'm cheap, even though both Annie and I were in dresses and sandals. It supposed to take an hour to get down, but it took us 30 minutes, probably because it started sprinkling.

Then we met the coolest Italian man ever. He spoke English but he had a German accent, so naturally we were confused. He explained that in Northern Italy, there are parts that still speak only German because that part of Germany was given to Italy after World War I (if someone could please fact check this for me, that would be great). He was so nice and it was refreshing to have a real conversation with a man, not just someone who is trying to get us to buy their things or are hitting on us.

After that, we went back across the island to Capri and got our overpriced and delicious espresso. We saw another bride and groom after they got married (my 5th one in the past ten days), which just reminded me how much I want that and how impatient I am. We walked around and looked at overpriced stores, but there was one that I was impressed with. It was a perfumaria that is unique to Capri. They take local plants and create them into perfumes, so the scents are native and unique to Capri. I wasn't impressed enough to buy a 40 Euro perfume, however delicious it did smell. I'm just not a perfume conesseur, or else I'm sure I would have been more apt to buy something.

I did, however, buy some pricey wine for Steven's parents. The second night I was in Italy, I went to a wine tasting at my professor's apartment. Before I knew the price, I knew I loved this wine. Then she told me how expensive it was, and I kind of choked a little. But I decided it was a good buy because they would really appreciate it. Plus, they guy selling it to me took 7 Euro off the tag price because it was obvious I knew what I was doing. It's just interesting how I would rather spend a pretty penny on wine for someone else but it kills me to spend 11.50 on the Blue Grotto. Pondering...

Overall, I was not that impressed with Capri. Sure, it was beautiful, but it's so vain. They charge people out the wazoo unnecessarily because they know they can. I just don't buy into the whole thought process that just because there's a 500 Euro tag on a purse makes it that much better and functional than one with a 25 Euro tag. I was mad that I spent money to go into the Blue Grotto (and mad that they didn't tell you up front that there would be an extra charge for it), mad that EVERYTHING cost money (you couldn't go anywhere without spending at least a few bucks), and just overall frustrated because I could have done everything a lot cheaper if I would have talked to a penny-pincher instead of reading the stupid tour books. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret going (pretty much because that's the only thing to do in that part of Italy), but I would have made vastly different decisions had I known what I know now.

After we left Capri, we went to a restaurant in Sorrento called "Da Filipo". They have a free taxi service, so they picked us up at the bed and breakfast and hauled us over. In the van were people from Missouri, Iowa, and New Jersey and it was so awesome to have an American conversation. The food at this place was all local (they have a fowl farm there, complete with turkeys, ducks, and geese), and it was good. I got seafood linguine which was a winner, and one of Annie's dishes was grilled mozzarella between lemon leaves. It was awesome! Lemons are a HUGE part of the culture in southern Italy (they are usually the size of small soccer balls- they are massive) and we had lemon olive oil which I'm going to have to invest in. Our waiter was so gross though. Multiple times he asked Annie and I if we wanted to go down to the ports that night to have a good time. We said no every single time, but he insisted on filling up our wine glasses almost to the top. I can't wait to get back to America where I am used to the culture and manners of men.

The next day we signed up for a tour of Positano, Amalfi, and Ravello. We were at our stop 15 minutes before the bus was going to pick us up at 7:45. At 8:10 Annie got a call from the bus saying that he left without us. Um, excuse me? We saw a lot of busses drive by, even one that said "Amalfi Drive", but none stopped. Obviously if the driver could call us, he knew he was supposed to pick us up. The lady that organized the bed and breakfast, Daniella, came up to meet us. She was so amazing about it- she returned our money and promised to call them and give them a stern talking to. I believe her because that's a poor reflection on the company, and not Daniella. Plus, women in this part of Italy were a little more outspoken than the other that I have met.

So we just went back to Rome. It was supposed to be about an hour to Amalfi and another hour to Solerno (where we catch the train), but it took us three because of "construction". Who does construction on Sundays? Especially in Italy! But, in the classic Italian way, when we drove by we just saw people in orange vests standing around. At least the drive is beautiful. It's along the coast with one foot separating you from a 500 foot drop to the sea. It's really amazing and gorgeous- the trip to Sorrento was worth the ride along the coast! We finally got to Solerno, bought our tickets to Rome, and alas, we were home sweet home.

Southern trip part 1

My time in Italy can only be summed up in one word: WHIRLWIND. Since I have arrived on May 9th, I have finished one of my classes for 3 credits; gone to Pienza, Orviete, Cori, Parma, Modena, Florence, Tivoli, Pompeii, Paestum, Sorrento, and as of this weekend, Capri, Amalfi, Positano, and Ravello; eaten many HUGE meals; and taken a couple hundred pictures. I'm exhausted but I can't sleep and I'm pretty much running on adrenaline everyday.

After the northern trip, I had a few days to prep for the southern trip. I went running everyday, including one run in which I got sufficiently lost in Trestevere. If I had a dollar for every car/Vespa honk or "Ciao bella" I got, I wouldn't have to worry about things like student loans or traveling. Italian manners are certainly not like American manners. It's socially acceptable to flat out stare at people, say things like "Ciao bella" to total strangers, push people out of the way, and take 9 years in a shopping line just because the person can. Definitely hard to get used to.

The southern trip (and by "southern trip" I really mean beaches) started Wednesday. Our first stop was Pompeii, which I was really geeking out about. For those of you not familiar with Pompeii, it was a pretty advanced town that was wiped out by Mount Vesuvius in a couple hundred years B.C. Because of the ash, the whole town was preserved until it was rediscovered in the 1800's. It is also known for it's incredibly erotic artwork and moral blunders. It was a port town, so there were a lot of bars and prostitution. That actually makes me really sad.

Freaky side note: although this town was very advanced and smart (they had indoor plumbing!), they couldn't take a hint that the mountain was about to blow. So the people didn't have time to escape and suffocated to death in a pile of ash. When the town was rediscovered, the ash solidified and preserved the holes where their bodies were. The archeologist filled these holes with plaster, and now these shapes of people are displayed around Pompeii. It really moved something within me- that sad, desperate, lonely place that only a salvation can fill. Very strange.

So after being moved and getting ridiculously sunburnt (insert sad face here), we headed onto Paestum. Paestum was a town founded by the Greeks in honor of Poseidon and have the oldest temples in the world outside of Greece. There were three: one to Athena, one to Hera, and one to Poseidon. Rambling Romolo's version of Greek mythology is hilarious, but I think he is kind of biased due to his Italian heritage. The temples were cool, but my favorite parts had nothing to do with the temples. First, Paestum had a pool. It was obviously empty, but in the deep end there was a labyrinth as a challenge for all the swimmers. I want a labyrinth in my pool! Second, there was a German Shepherd named Athena that lived on the land and was obviously taken care of. She was really docile and I absolutely could not resist petting her. She ended up following us around all day, but would only listen to me when I called her. Whenever we would sit or stop for a lecture, she would come straight to me. In conclusion: I want a German Shepherd.

Paestum is also right on the ocean. All the beaches were private, the sand was very fine, but the water was really gross. You name it and it washed up onto the beach. We stayed at The Calypso which is owned by Dr. Probart's "friend Roberto". We expected this guy to be tall, dark, and handsome, and I'm not quite sure why. Turns out he was an inch shorter than me (I'm 5'2"), smoked a pack a day, but he was dark. He's very into natural things, so everything in the hotel was real (plastic need not apply) and all the food they served was organic. I was disappointed because a) the food wasn't that great, and b) there were no vegetables!! Ugh. Boo.

Since this entire place was au naturale, there was no wifi. There was, however, one very slow computer and one ethernet cord. So I compromised and used my computer with the ethernet cord and ordered my plane tickets to Berlin and London! I am SO excited about it!! I'm going to Berlin the second weekend of June to stay with Don and Sarah Jones, two of the people that were instrumental in growing me in Christ and as a person. I'm going to London from June 16-22 and I'm staying with Steven's cousin, Lynnea and her family. Can you say blessings?! Perhaps this is the reason I couldn't go to Cinqueterre, Venice, or Florence...

Another side note: in Paestum we went to a pretty classy place for a "wine tasting". Wine tasting=lots of food and lots of wine. Both the white and red wine were very dry, and the red was 15% alcohol, which is more potent than we are used to. I only had one glass and knew that was enough, but my teacher, Dr. Claudia Probart had SEVEN in one hour!! What?! And she had at least two more for dinner. It's amazing she doesn't dry up like a raisin after all that alcohol.

Now I'm sitting in a bed and breakfast in Sorrento (that has wifi- woohoo!). Hopefully I can sleep tonight because it had been eluding me lately. Tomorrow morning, at 6 a.m., I'm off to Capri with Annie. Capri is a tiny little island (4 miles by 2 miles) off the coast of Italy- about a 20 minute boat ride.

Although I love traveling, I also love and miss Rome. Rome, sweet home...

Northern Trip 2

So the other post was getting long, so here's the second half.

Modena:

After Florence, we went to Modena. Now, tell me, have you ever heard anything EVER about Modena? I'm going to say probably not, and that's exactly how the town is.

Our purpose of being in Modena was to try traditional balsamic vinegar. I know what you are thinking, "EEW!", because that's exactly what we were thinking too. But the balsamic vinegar of the States and the balsamic vinegar of Modena is completely, 100% different. Like wine, this vinegar is made from aged grapes, but in a warmer environment and by a different process. It takes two years to age, and the end result is a thick, syrupy sweet liquid. It is SO GOOD. So good, in fact, that people put a few drops on ice cream. I was going to get some until I was told that a half liter was 67 Euro. No thank you.

One our way to check into our hotel, our busdriver got pulled over. Now, to get pulled over in Italy means someone did something horrible seeing as how no one follows the rules of the road (hence Chris getting hit our third day here). Turns out he ran a red light. What an interesting fellow. He didn't come back the next day; we had a different driver...

After that adventure, we had a free afternoon in Modena. I was really bitter about that because we skipped out on Florence, one of the greatest cities in the world for art, to come to a po-dunk town and try and find something to do. So, like Florence, we went shopping, and like Pienza, we exhausted the town. I got a shirt from a Sri Lankan woman, and a swimswuit from an Italian department store. That's all I could afford because, although there is a lack of things to do, Modena has money. This is where Ferarri and Lambourghini originated, so they are still flying high off of that. The ironic part is that it's very socialist, but functions well. Explain that to me.

Annie, Sahira and I tried going into the biggest church in the town square, but some elderly Italian woman started yelling and us because Annie was wearing a tanktop (you can't enter a church if your knees or shoulders are showing). No big deal, she put on my coat . Lies- to this Italian lady, it was very big deal. Even with the coat on, the lady followed us and continued yelling at us. Luckily, we could outwalk her. We eventually just went into the museum, which really scared me because I don't understand Catholicism at all. In fact, after coming to Italy, I have a very negative outlook about it that I hope a Catholic can change when I come home.

Since Annie, Sahira I were still missing home and Rome, we went to a cafe and got Arizona teas that cost 5 Euro. Then we stumbled upon the most beautiful park which helped us feel connected to home. There were flowers everywhere, a pond, the happiest dogs you have ever seen, and the things that made me the happiest: ducks (!!!), and one maple tree :). That's all I needed to feel okay. Plus, there were little kids throwing food to the ducks and geese which was adorable. Then I thought about child-mother relationships and I got all warm and fuzzy inside. I think every female hits a point in life when kids just make their heart melt. Point has been hit.

That night we had yet another million course meal, but it lasted 2.5 hours this time. As Steven says, how can a society function when they have such long meals? Well, they can't. Take a look at Italy's recent history. This meal was so fun though because all 26 of us were sitting at the same table just having a good time. One of our teachers thought we had been drinking a tad too much and tried to help us with his subtle suggestion of, "Does anyone want more bread?" I don't know why, because later Dr. Probart came to talk to us and it was obvious that she had been drinking the whole 2.5 hours. "Okay guys, heres the deal about tomorrow. Wait, I just forgot. One second" She was all of 5 steps away from Rambling Romolo...

Parma:

So when you see "Parma", I'm sure the first thing you think of is Parmesan cheese. And you'd be right. This is where Parmesan cheese was created, and we were blessed enough to see the whole entire process because we got up at 6 a.m. to go. It's made with fresh milk that is agitated then separated, put into a mold, dunked in salt water, sits on a shelf, and then is sold for 400-500 Euros per wheel. Granted, it was good stuff, but really? In their storeroom they had about 30,000 wheels. Do the math- that thing is a goldmine, complete with 5 levels of security linked directly to the police. We ended our tour with Champagne and cheese- there's nothing like Champagne at 10 in the morning...

Then we went to a prosciutto factory. That was kind of gross. Prosciutto is salt-cured pig that's aged and dehydrated to perfection and sliced very thinly. Once again, good stuff, but it gives me the heebie-jeebies. So the pig gets butchered, it's legs dismembered, it's cleaned, salted, salted, aged and aged for about 600 days until it's ready to be eaten. One leg is about 100 Euro, and their storeroom had about 30,000 legs. Italians are serious about their food.

THE TRAIN:

After we left that place smelling like pig fat, Annie and I needed to get back to Rome. Brace yourself for this. Before we left on our northern trip, we were trying to buy tickets online for about an hour and a half. Their credit card thing wasn't working, and we got so frustrated and mad that we just gave up. We should have known this was going to be a horrible trip.

So we were dropped off at the train station in Modena and went to talk to an employee who was selling tickets. He didn't speak English. After awhile, we pulled an African out of line to translate for us because he was the only one who spoke English and Italian. The employee just ended up being really rude to us, but we had our tickets. Luckily we found Romolo and his wife, and his wife explained to us the basics of how the train system in Italy works. We found our platform and went there to wait for the train. By chance, Dr. Probart and her lackies came up and she asked, "Did you guys stamp your ticket?" Blank stares. "OH NO!", she exclaimed. "Come with me!" So we went with her across the platform, down the steps in a brisk walk in search for a machine to stamp our ticket.

Okay, back to the platform. The train finally comes and we hop on. In Italy, there is a 3-5 minute loading and unloading time, so if you aren't ready, you are toast. We get on the train, which is about a 30 minute ride to Bologna where we will catch our train to Rome. With about 5 minutes left in the ride, the conductor comes over to check our tickets to make sure they were stamped (if they weren't stamped, it would have been a fine). All of a sudden he starts talking very loud and very fast and charging us 27 Euro. For what? We didn't know! By chance, the Italian girls sitting across from Annie spoke broken Spanish, and Annie and I speak Spanish, so they explained to us that we got on the wrong train. We were supposed to be on the train that had a lot of stops, not the direct one. And for that we were fined anyway.

So we get off, and at this point we're a little flustered. We just want to go to the bathroom and go to our next platform. In Italy, unlike in America, it is not required to have a public bathroom in public places. Translated: the train station didn't have a bathroom. So we leave the train station and walk to a 3-story McDonald's, because McDonald's always let's you use the bathroom without asking questions. Not this McDonald's! In fact, there was no bathroom. So we had to cross a very busy 5 lane street to get to a cafe. We had to buy water to use their bathroom, but at least they had one. It was gross, but it wasn't a hole in the ground, so whatever.

We finally make it back to the platform for the train to Rome. We're waiting and waiting, and nothing is happening. About 5 minutes before our scheduled department time, they changed the platform, and the only reason we found out was by chance- Romolo just happened to be there. So we had to run to the next platform to catch our train. We made it, and luckily it was smooth sailing the rest of the way. No fines, no yelling, no rudeness.

When we got to Rome, we had to find a way back to our convent in Trestevere. We were going to call a taxi, but I didn't have enough money that's to the fine in Bologna. Some weird-not-funny-at-all man with incredible B.O. told us to take the H bus, and we decided that although he is weird, not funny, and needs to shower, he might be trustworthy. So we walk through the dumps of Rome to get to the bus (the area near the train station is disgusting, complete with disgusting men), and it turned out to be the right one! We missed our desired stop due to the doors being open for about 15 seconds, but we got off at the next one.

That night we went for groceries and to get some awesome Indian food. I have this whole apartment to myself which is really strange. Luckily, Annie is upstairs, so we have been pow-wowwing now and then.

But that's Italy, culture, and learning. This is what I signed up for, and although some aspects have a lot to be desired, I wouldn't change anything about it.

Northern Trip

Since this post is going to be VERY long, I'm going to divide it into sections so people can read only what they want to hear about. We went on a four day trip to Northern Italy which included Orviete, Pienza, Florence, Modena, and Parma. So here it goes:

The day before:

The day before we left on this excursion was rather pleasant. It was one of the only days we have had so far without rain! Our class did a "market walk", which turned into visiting several churches, ancient buildings, three stores and one market; all in pursuit of two different types of tomatoes and three different brand of mozzarella cheese for caprese. Caprese is simply tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil with olive oil and salt, and I could live off the stuff for the rest of my life. That evening, three friends and I went to the Vatican to check it out. Since I'm not Catholic and know nothing of Catholicism, all the stores with Jesus on the cross, various sized Marys, and all the rosaries really freaked me out. The Vatican is about a 30 minute walk one way, so we decided it was okay to get cannolis on our way back. I'm not used to having regular milk, I always drink soy, so it was pretty much one of the most disgusting things I have ever eaten. But I paid for it, so I will eat it dog-gonnit.

Orviete and Pienza:

We were told to be at Trajan's Column at 7:45 on Wednesday because the bus was going to be there and we didn't want to make him wait. We were there at 7:45, and 8, and 8:30 until the guy came and we were on our way to Tuscanny. Our first stop was in Orviete, which is a small town built on a hill for protective purposes. It was cute! Very much a traditional Italian town. There was a huge Cathedral from the era when the town peaked in the 1200's (if you ask me, it's kind of sad when a town peaks 800 years ago...). My friend Annie and I walked up and down and all around, and pretty must exhausted the town in the hour that we had. We saw stuffed wild boars, cow tongues, and more cobblestones and I had the best focaccia bread ever there. We didn't get a chance to see the underground caves they used as aqueducts, but c'est la vie.

Next we headed to Pienza. Don't blink, because you'll miss the whole town. It takes about 5 minutes, maybe less, to walk from one gate to another which would be the whole town. There was an amazing view of the Tuscan countryside from Pienza, as evident by all the photographs on Facebook. It was a quaint little town, and somehow I managed to have the most awkward encounter ever with a guy from Washington D.C. Long story short, he's an idiot, I hope to never see him again, and it's clear why he is 35 and single.

Then we went to our monastery where we spent the night. To get to the monastery, we drove in our big bus down tiny little streets that were right next to a steep dropoff. Props to the busdriver for not killing us. This monastery was built in the Middle Ages and was better than I expected, besides the fact it felt like 40 degrees F in the inside.

Right before we got there, one girl found out that someone had somehow managed to get her credit card number and PIN and spent $300. Chris, the guy who got hit by a Vespa in a previous post, decided to call his bank and found out someone did the same thing and spent $350. That started a semi-panic, and other people found out that $1000 and $6000 were spent of their money. It turns out that all these people used the same ATM down the street from our convent in Rome. Thankfully, I was not one of those people, but I am now terrified to withdraw here.

So back to the monastery. Our dear teacher Romolo (I may refer to him as "Rambling Romolo") talked for a long time about the architecture of the place, in which I stared at the paintings. There was a picture of Jesus there, but in this painting he had boobs. It was the weirdest and most traumatizing image of Jesus that I have ever seen. But the food we had there really made up for it. They had their own chefs, and we had one of those infamous 2 hour, 6 course meals that Italians love. By the way: Tuscan wine is phenomenal!

The next morning, Jill, Amy and I woke up at 5 to catch the sunrise. It was really cold and really windy, but it was totally worth it. I think sunrises, no matter where or at what time, are one of the best parts of nature. It's kind of like God is telling me that there is hope and he truly loves me. I love watching sunrises.

Florence:

This part of the post is going to be incredibly disappointing to you all, because Florence was a complete and total bust. This is the city I was most jazzed about because of all the art- I had a whole list planned! Well, turns out there were no tickets available for anything and we only had like, 4 hours after our 2 hour, 5 course lunch to do things. So we went shopping. I got a messenger bag that fits my life and someone else's in, so that worked out well for me. And that was Florence.

Back to the lunch for a second: this was the first time I ate red meat since arriving in Italy 13 days ago. And it was AWESOME. It's the "sacrificial beef of ancient Rome" that my teacher, Dr. Probart (she may also be referred to as Claudia, Claud, Clauds, or the Claudster), was holding out for. It was probably an inch and a half thick and was cooked in between rare and medium rare. I devoured it.

Even if I did have all the time in the world in Florence, I would still be disappointed by it. It is said that there are more English-speakers than Italian-speakers there, and it showed. Everyone spoke English, so it was like being in an older version of Pittsburgh. Even the portion sizes were about a third larger than in Rome. Because of the comparison to Pittsburgh, I got really sappy that night and missed three things: 1) My mom. I think I'm always going to miss my mom when I'm away from her, no matter how old I am. She is, after all, my mommy, and an amazing one at that. 2) Steven. This is common for me, but I always imagine him beside me and thinking about what his thoughts would be of Italy and I find myself planning things for us to do if/when we come back. I just wish he could be here to hold me. 3) Rome. Yes, I missed the city I had just met about 10 days before. But I missed the familiarity and comfort of Rome. I can't explain it, it just was.

That night, however, Annie and I went into a peculiar little cafe. It was a weird mix of Italian food, American food, and the 70's. But they did have great pasta with vegetables, which was a good comfort food for my down-trodden spirit. Also, my hotel room in Florence had a bizarre picture painted on the ceiling. I'm apt to say that people should stop painting on ceilings unless they have some really phenomenal idea.

Unexpected

I would consider today one of those "unexpected" days. We got to wake up later, which was nice, especially since my housemates came back at 4 am again. So we were excited- maybe we were going to get a day without rain!

No. It rained. A lot. But we did get to eat out on the terrace overlooking our secret garden before it did, so that's a plus. Not a plus: my sandals did not do well on the slick cobblestones, so I had to walk around Rome barefoot.

But not all was lost; it turned into a wonderful time for an introvert like me. You know the saying, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do"? Well, we decided to do that, and it worked out nicely. Italians take care of themselves first, so if it's raining, they hop under the closest overhang and wait it out. Americans, on the other hand, trudge through the rain ending up grumpy, distraught, and soggy.

But these Americans were tired of the rain, so two of my friends and I went into a chocolate shop, which turned out to be amazing. As a little girl, this would be a wonderland for me with all the sweets, bright colors, and the layout of the place. As a twenty-year old, it was still a wonderland for me. There was only one older woman working who was obviously the owner and she did not speak any English.

Side note: I LOVE experiences like this. I love struggling through language barriers because it's exciting, not frustrating. Communication is not just language, it's so much more.

So this women and Jill communicated through writing, pointing, choppy Italian numbers, and a lot of smiles. She was so sweet, and the chocolate was great! I got all dark chocolate; one was a ball rolled in hazelnuts, another had a soft rum filling, and another had a delicious coffee filling. Souvenirs? Yes sir!

Then we wandered into a sandwich shop a few doors down because it was still raining. The guy spoke English, and it was one of the most positive interactions I have had since I got here. He learned English from watching Jack Bauer on "24" and "Lost", which convinces me that I need to watch everything in Spanish so I can speak it fluently. We were there for about an hour, we talked a lot, he was hilarious, and he gave me free espresso :).

Next, because it was still raining, we headed to bookstore, which was cute! Italian books are oddly priced, so I didn't get anything. Possibility for souvenirs later- holla!

Then we went to a tourist trap souvenir shop, which was awesome. I got Steven a little somethin' somethin' and scoped out some more. We had a great conversation with the person at the register about America and how she wants to go.

Italians are beautiful people. They are so nice and so kind, and if you give them the time of day, they will give their left arm for you. Italians are all about relationships.

Italians would make great Christians.

Weekend Affairs

Nothing much really happened in the past few days. On Saturday night, a few friends and I were going to go to this event called "La Notte dei Musei", which means "The Night of Museums". It's an event all around Italy where tons of galleries, exhibits, and museums are open for free. There was about 80 in Rome that were open until 2 am, so I was pretty jazzed about going. Everyone kind of crapped out though, so I ended up just sitting here working on my 7 page paper.

I was also supposed to go to church Sunday morning. We weren't going to go to the Vatican because we wanted more information before we went, but I found a Methodist church in English about a mile away. Once again, people crapped out. Also, this morning we have off, so a few friends and I were going to go run errands out by the Vatican. I'm sure you can fill in the next sentence... people bailed. I did get to listen to a sermon from the church Steven and I go to when I visit him at school. If you ever get a chance, check this guy out- his name is Rex Kenner at Grace Fellowship Church in Latham, NY. He is amazing! I'm a few weeks behind in his series, so I listened to part 1 of 4 on marriage. Good stuff!

I would say I have a more independent attitude then a lot of college students. I don't need to wait on people, I feel comfortable doing my own thing, and I don't really care what people think of me when I do. But here it's different. I'm not yet comfortable walking around alone (although I can get myself around the city- and I can do about 1/3 without a map!) so I have to depend on others to go with me. It's so frustrating! I'll be comfortable soon walking around alone during the day, but I don't think I'll EVER go anywhere alone at night. There are some super creeps here.

But yesterday turned out okay. Four of us went to study and I finished my paper and I'm ahead in my work, so I feel really good about that. Besides my housemates coming in at 4 in the morning both Sunday and Monday morning, I've been sleeping well. I ran out of bread on Friday and chose not to buy it on Saturday (primarily because it was POURING all day long), which was a mistake because bakeries are not open on Sundays. Not even in the Jewish Ghetto (although we did find a really sweet cafe there!). So I ended up eating tomatoes and olives with crumbled cheese for dinner. Yes, I am still a college kid even in a land known for it's food.

On a side note, do not believe people who tell you that "nothing is open on Sundays", because that's a lie. In fact, Sunday was the best day so far to head out and do things, for me at least. There's hardly any Italians out because their holy days revolve around massive family meals, which makes everything a little more relaxed and less crowded. A lot of tourists are out, so it's the only day when you can wear sweatpants out of the house without getting excommunicated. There are a lot less car honks and derogatory comments toward females, so that's always nice as well.

Overall, I am adjusting very well culturally. I've come to know what to expect from certain countries, so this hasn't been too difficult, which is really encouraging. I think all the prayers from home has a part to play in that as well :) I do want to go to a Spanish speaking restaurant though, because I'm dying to speak another language that somebody understands! There are a few things that I hope improves, so keep those prayers coming!