Chocolate chocolate chocolate

It's finally Easter break. Ludovica went to Madonna di Campiglio to go skiing with Barbara - my host aunt - and her husband.

About 5 and a half hours from Porto San Giorgio

Today and tomorrow I have to go to work with my host parents during the day. Friday, I have an Italian lesson at 3. Ludovica's English teacher (who is from England and has an American wife and triplets) invited my host parents and me to meet his family on Saturday. On Sunday I'm going to the disco and Ludo's getting back Monday night.

I finished A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, it was excellent, and I've decided to read The Catcher in the Rye in ITALIAN. Yes. The translated title is Il Giovane Holden - which literally means "the young Holden" - because there isn't a good literal translation.

It takes me about 20 minutes to read one page. I skim the page. Write down all the words I don't know. Translate them. Then read the page again. Then if I still don't understand, I have to ask my host mom to help me.

If I can be totally honest I don't understand why I have to go to the office with my host parents during the day. It would be really nice to sleep in and hang out at home alone. I'm alone zero percent of the time. My host mother told me she hates being alone so I think she assumes that I'm the same way. But I'm not. I need my space to think and zone out and blast Kanye. I think it is a cultural difference. Americans are into their independence and freedom. Italians value togetherness. I haven't voiced this to anyone because I'm afraid my need to be alone will seem weird or trivial. It's one of those things I never appreciated before leaving America and something I will value when I return.

Moving on.

Pictures of Barbara's adorable dogs:

When I first arrived, a really nice boy named Luca interviewed me for the school newspaper. He translated our interview into Italian. The newspaper was distributed yesterday.

Lastly, tomorrow I'm doing an extremely condensed version of a Passover seder with my host parents. I haven't been keeping kosher or anything, but I thought it would be fun to tell the story of Passover real quick and drink some wine. When describing Passover to my host family, I told them how a seder can run anywhere from 2 to 4 hours. I promised them I'd keep it to less than 15 minutes. We're going to go look for matzah tonight.

UPDATE: after going to 2 different supermarkets we finally found matzah. It's not called matzah but it tastes and looks like matzah so I'm calling it matzah.

pane azzimo = unleavened bread

Ok now I have to go brush up on my knowledge of Passover. Wish me luck. Ciao.

IT'S FREEZING HERE

Today I had my first formal Italian lesson.

I dropped the serving spoon for salad at dinner. It broke. I feel terrible.

Tomorrow I'm going to the theater to see Hamlet. Then we have a week off from school for Easter.

On Friday we're celebrating Passover with a 15 minute seder.

I'm too depressed about the spoon to write anything else.

I AM HAPPY. LIFE IS WONDERFUL.

NOT TO BE OVERDRAMATIC BUT YESTERDAY WAS THE BEST DAY EVER.

1) It was Saturday.

2) Gym was cancelled.

3) I went to Elena's house for lunch & tried my first Italian lasagna. It was beautiful. Her family is so kind and wonderful to me.

4) Had an epiphany about why I'm not learning Italian, which I'll explain later.*

5) Elena washed, dried, and curled my hair. I love her.

6) After being deferred in the fall from the my first choice school, OXY SAID YES. They love me. And I love them. And we love each other.

7) I went to Ludo's classmates house and had dinner with her classmates. I love them. It was wonderful.

8) THE ACES WON!!!!!!!!! WE'RE THE GREATEST HIGH SCHOOL BASKETBALL TEAM IN THE WORLD. Or at least in Pennsylvania.

*Ok this - in my opinion - is why I'm not learning Italian.

The first two weeks of my stay, I went from only knowing the words "ciao" and "pizza" to a vocabulary of about 250 words and some very basic grammar. I asked people to speak to me in Italian. I said things like, "che significa" and "come si dice." I had moments where I thought in Italian. I had a few dreams in Italian. Then some bad things happened.

First, I panicked. When blogging or talking to my American friends, I found it difficult to put together thoughts in English. I hated feeling unable to express myself - in my native language, no less. It terrified me. I clung to English in fear, losing some of my motivation to learn Italian.

Secondly, I never thought of myself as patriotic before leaving America. I enjoy July 4th as much as your average bear, but I didn't constantly think about my nationality or country on a daily basis. Leaving the country pushed these thoughts to the front of my mind and I began to feel more patriotic than ever before. I love America. I love Italy, too. But I am American. I can't really explain it beyond that but being here gives me a new sense of pride in my country. Anyway, the reason I mention this is because (and I'm ashamed to admit this) I felt English was superior to Italian.

Besides, everyone around me - my classmates, Ludovica, even teachers - wants to improve their English. In my mind, I began to think and feel horrible things. Why would I ever want to learn another language? English is the best. America is the best. Everyone should speak English. Everyone here wishes they were fluent like me. As soon as I became conscious of these thoughts, I felt disgusted with myself and vowed to change my mindset.

I will not forget English. I may find it difficult sometimes to find the right words or lose my "voice" or style or whatever but it will be ok. When I come home, it will all come back to me. I'm not longer worried.

Next, 60 million people in this world speak Italian and during the next four months I will become one of them. I can do it. It's necessary for my survival here and personal growth. I have to study everyday. I have to struggle with it. But I can't lazily give up by convincing myself it isn't an important language. It's extremely important.

Ok I have to go to Palm Sunday lunch. Love y'all. Ciao.

P.S. Giorgio at sunset

Yesterday my host mom, Ludovica, and I were driving home from school and the sun was setting and everything was gorgeous so I took pictures.

my favorite

We drove through the same country roads as last time. I forgot to mention but the street is just wide enough for one car. And it's not a one way street. So you have to go really slowly and if another car comes, you have to find a way to make it work. The street is also crazy steep and windy. Very scary.

While we're on the subject of driving....

My host father is the most careful, coordinated, fastest driver I've ever met. It doesn't matter whether we leave for school at a 7:45 or 7:56, he gets us there at 8:00 am and not a minute past. We usually go about 100 km/h. It's a little nerve racking in the morning, but I've gotten used to it. There are also several speed bumps on the way to school that we always cruise over gently. It's fantastic, I don't know how he does it. If I ever need a getaway car driver and Ryan Gosling is unavailable, I know who to call.

Lastly, today the plan was for me to come home at 1:30 after school by bus. Unfortunately, the bus driver to Porto San Giorgio was on strike. My host mother had to prepare lunch and then go to a meeting at 3. When I called her, she didn't know what time her meeting would be over so I ended up hanging out at school until 5:30.. just chillin' with the bar staff. Sigh. It's ok. I ate hot dog and gratefully accepted sympathy chocolate from a cleaning lady. It's all part of the adventure.

As far as I'm concerned it is spring

At first, this post started out totally normal. It was just a quick review of the good and bad things that have happened in the past couple of days. By the end I kind of got carried away talking about food. Again. Whatever.

Bad things:

1. Yesterday I took another math test. It was impossible. I hate math. 

2. I finished the peanut butter.

Good things:

1. My art history teacher knows how much I hate religious, biblical Renaissance art (which happens to be the art we are studying this year) so he brought me a book of contemporary, minimalistic art to look at during his lesson. He doesn't speak a word of English but I absolutely love him.

2. On Sunday we're going to have Palm Sunday lunch with my host aunt, her husband, my host uncle and his family and of course my host mom, dad, and Ludovica. I'm making brownies. Ludovica is making something with honey and almonds. 

3. Elena

Food update: I finally realized the main difference the Italian mindset towards food and the Kayla mindset towards food. Are you ready for it? Ok. In America I ate all the time.

• 7 am - cereal (always)
• 9:30 am - pretzels (I alwaysssss ate pretzel thins during Oceanography. Always.)
• 11:30 am - pb&j + apple (always)
• 3:00 pm - snack (literally whatever is available to me at this time)
• 6:00 pm - dinner (cheeseburger or salad or Chipotle or whatever. I mixed it up. I kept it fresh.)
• 9:30 pm - midnight snack (usually mini Reese's or a cookie or something - optional)

In Italy (this is how my host family eats - it's not exactly how I eat)

• 7 am - toast with jam
• 2:00 pm - bowl of pasta, bread with cheese and ham, salad, potatoes
• 9:00 pm - more pasta, either steak or chicken or something, tons of food... literally the food never ends

Because I still can't fully adjust to this idea of eating so much food in one sitting, I've been supplementing the Italian diet with my 2 snack times. I know this sounds psychotic and calculated but GOD DAMN IT, THIS IS MY BLOG. 

• 10 am = apple time
• At 5 pm I have tea and a banana or yogurt

I don't know why I get hungry every 3-4 hours. That's just how my brain//stomach have been trained. Italians don't seem to get anxious during the day or want snacks. They drink water or have coffee in between meals.

It's a completely different attitude towards food. In Italy, dinner is not casually thrown together - at least not in my host family. Everyone is involved. Ludo and I set the table and my host parents cook. We all hang out in the kitchen together. Even lunch requires a lot of preparation: toasting bread, grilling chicken, boiling water for pasta. It takes forever. For me, anything longer than the 2:45 minutes it takes to heat up soup is too much prep time.

I can't speak for other Americans, but my family never sets the table for dinner. We never even eat dinner together. Ok fine we eat holiday meals together. That's it. Mom, I'm serious! Think about it. Maybe we're a lot more disjointed than other American families, but I don't know.. This concept of eating dinner together is so beautiful yet foreign to me.

Ok I'm finished talking about food. For now. Love y'all. Ciao.

Panna Cotta

Ok first of all: I'm feeling a lot better than Thursday. I've been sleeping a good amount. I feel a little more balanced. It's all part of the adventure.

Yesterday my host family surprised me by bringing home maple syrup from the grocery store!!!!!!

It's the worst maple syrup I've ever tasted but it's the thought that counts

I seriously love my host family

Last night Ludovica prepared Panna Cotta - a typical Italian dessert - kind of like pudding but a lot heavier / less healthy. 

It's a combination of cream, milk, and sugar - simmered together and then chilled in the fridge overnight. Today Ludovica added strawberry jam to the top and we ate after lunch for dessert. Soooooo delicious. I highly recommend. Frozen yogurt is basically the same idea - minus 700 calories - but nothing compared to this.

What else.

I've been reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It's beautiful. Thanks again, Granny :) I love you.

Earlier today I edited my host brother's résumé - he wanted to translate it from Italian to English and it needed some fine tuning. I wrote a short paragraph about my American family in German. And I studied a little Italian with my host mom while she ironed.

OH. Bad news. Remember that math test I took? I got a 19/40 or a "5-." Yikes. Terrible. I have another math test tomorrow so I should probably go study for that. Alright. Love y'all. Ciao.

My 12 hour nap

DISCLAIMER: THERE ARE A LOT OF FEELINGS IN THIS POST. Ugh.

Last night at 7:30 I felt really tired and hungry. I knew dinner was almost ready but I couldn't help myself. I fell asleep. I woke up at midnight extremely confused and disoriented - the way most naps end.

:(

I took out my contacts, charged my phone, and went back to sleep until 7:30 am. During the night I had terrible nightmares. Mostly about home and the people I miss dying. I don't know why but that's usually how my nightmares go. This morning my host mother told me how worried she was about me. Apparently last night she tried to wake me up for dinner and I didn't respond. She wanted to call an ambulance but my host dad talked her out of it. I feel so terrible for scaring her. But I'm mostly concerned about myself.

WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHY AM I HERE? I don't speak Italian. I'm confused 24/7. I feel alone. I feel purposeless. I miss my friends, my family, my dog. I miss LM. I miss feeling comfortable. I almost never feel comfortable here. Intellectually/mentally I know that everything will work out, but emotionally I don't feel it. I don't feel like myself. Because here, I'm not myself.

I mean. I still am Kayla. But.... everything that I thought made me who I am is in America.

I know this is what I wanted. But I don't know what to do with this. I don't know how to make the best of the situation. I don't feel positive. Ok sometimes I feel positive. But not always. Not right now. Positive people don't sleep for 12 hours.

I need to meditate or something.

13-03-2013

PEANUT BUTTER UPDATE

Yesterday, like 3 seconds after I blogged about the peanut butter stigma, my host mom announced something came in the mail for me. It was two individually packaged serving sizes of PEANUT BUTTER from my mom. I was so surprised/elated/grateful. Thanks Mom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love you.

 

HAIR

In America I washed my hair everyday. Every single day. If I didn't, it'd get greasy and ugly. When I arrived in Italy, Ludovica was shocked by this. Italians - Europeans in general - don't wash their hair everyday. She insisted I skip at least one day. The first two weeks were really difficult. Eventually my hair adapted and stopped producing so much oil. Six weeks later and it's a lot prettier/blonder/lighter. I know. I didn't think my hair could get any better, either. But yeah I strongly recommend this every other day business.

TRAVEL QUOTES THAT I LOVE
“A wise traveler never despises his own country.” – Carlo Goldoni

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.” – Cesare Pavese

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.” – John Steinbeck

“When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.” – Clifton Fadiman

“Travel is glamorous only in retrospect.” – Paul Theroux

“It is solved by walking.” – Algerian proverb

“What am I doing here?” – Arthur Rimbaud, writing home from Ethiopia

Italian senior skip day & getting locked out pt 2

In America, students apply to college at the beginning of senior year. Junior year/first semester senior year are, traditionally, the hardest parts of high school. Once students are accepted to college, they can relax a little bit. Well. Some don't. Others do. And a select few start showing up for school once a week. Students plan senior skip days. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Etc. To some degree, senioritis is a part of American culture.

In Italy there are 5 years of high school. At the end of the fifth year, all students take a big test and the results of this test determine where they go to university in the fall. The concept of senioritis does not exist. I'm not even considered a senior in Italy. Rude.

Instead of periodic senior skip days, Italian students in the fifth year have one opportunity to go crazy. 100 days before the big exam, it is traditional for the fifth year students to come to school drunk and throw salt at people. I'm not even joking.

This year the principal thought ahead and locked the gates. The students still threw salt and danced in the street and drove by honking. At break we all went outside to stare at them.

School ended at noon for a staff meeting! Ludovica and I took the bus, went to the supermarket to buy prosciutto (pro-shoot-oh otherwise known as ham), and then realized we were LOCKED OUT. And it totally wasn't my fault this time.

Ludovica forgot the keys. Ha. I told you. Nobody's perfect.

It turned out to be quite the photo opp.

Then it started raining...

Mom came home!!!!!!!!!

Today my host mom picked me up from school at 4:30. It's Tuesday so I had History of Art and Religious Studies in the afternoon. Sigh. But she took me on a different/beautiful route home. I have pictures don't worry.

Even with the clouds it was still beautiful.

We pass this countryside everyday on the drive to school but it was nice to actually drive through the hills and see the landscape. Ok hopefully we'll do it again when the weather's better. That's it. Love y'all. Ciao.

The Peanut Butter Stigma

It's so awkward when people ask me what typical American foods are because... well... I don't think we have any. I always respond by going over my daily foods:

• Cheerios for breakfast
• PB&J, pretzels, an apple for lunch

Italians: Wait. Pause. Did you just say peanut butter?

Me: Yes.

Italians: Everyday?

Me: YES.

Italians believe peanut butter is, like, the worst thing you can put into your body. Yes, peanut butter is calorie dense, but one tablespoon goes a long way. You can eat it with carrots, put it in a sandwich, put it in candy, eat it alone. Anything you want! It's your peanut butter. It's a free country. Might I add it's also a source of protein.

Ugh. I love it. I will stand by peanut butter until my dying day. Anyway. Moving on. Americans aren't great at coming up with world famous foods. We take from other cultures: pizza and pasta from Italy, burritos and tacos from Mexico, sushi from Japan. Are hamburgers even ours? I don't know. Wisconsin makes pretty good cheese and California produces some wine. What else... the Philly cheesesteak? Does that count?

There isn't a good response to the question: what are typical American foods? I think my best bet is to just smile and say "the best food in the world is in Italy." People will eat that up, right?

I MADE BANANA BREAD

I woke up this morning and all I wanted to do was make banana bread. I don't know why. Ugh. This isn't normal.

so so delicious

In other news, Saturday was terrible. After school all I wanted to do was sleep. Ludovica wanted to clean the room (as per usual) and I just physically couldn't. I was beyond tired. Reading my Twitter feed was too much effort, that's how weak I felt. I almost slept through lunch but then my host mom insisted I eat. Then I slept from 3pm-8pm. I probably over did it. Oversleeping just makes you more tired. So unfair.

I think a lot of it has to do with constantly attempting to translate everything. All the time. And just being in a general state of confusion. It's so easy to not pay attention and just kind of drift off when people around me are speaking in Italian, but I need to force myself to stay present and listen. Very challenging.

After dinner, we got ready to go out. In Porto San Giorgio the only night you can go out is Saturday because every other night is a school night. I seriously miss having a two day weekend. In Italy - or at least in PS. Giorgio - it is normal to go out at 11pm. We go to the center of the town and sit on benches or by the beach or in Lampara, and just hang out.

Ludo asked me what I do on weekends in America. I don't know. We don't have a "center" of Lower Merion the same way there's a "center" to PS. Giorgio. We have parks and Wawa and Yapple, but we don't do things as a community - unless you count basketball games. We do things in our groups of friends.

Another huge difference is the drinking age and driving age. In Lower Merion, it is normal to have your license by senior year and to have at least a few friends with their own cars/the ability to drive you around whenever you want. Hi Ally. However, we can't drink until 21. In theory.

Here, you can't drive until 18 but you can casually order a beer at 15. It's a weird trade off. I don't think either way is better. Americans and Italians prioritize different things - view different things as dangerous. For example, in Italy not drying your hair is dangerous, but smoking cigarettes during break in high school is normal.

Today was a little better. I woke up at 11, ate yogurt, made banana bread, ate lunch, watched Gossip girl with Ludovica (to improve my Italian!!!!), drank tea, studied math, read the plot of Hamlet, napped, and ate dinner. For a Sunday, it was very productive.

WEATHER UPDATE BROUGHT TO YOU BY GOOGLE:

I WANT SPRING

NOT RAIN

ugh

Lastly, hilarious things my host mom said today:

On American coffee being terrible, "it's like dirty water."

"I could probably survive on pasta alone."

She and my host father also took turns impersonating penguins. I absolutely love this family. I can't believe how lucky I got. I just... ah I still can't believe it.

Festa Della Donna

Today, March 8th, is FESTA DELLA DONNA. Otherwise known as Women's Day. Apparently this is an international thing but I don't remember celebrating it in America. On this day, in Italy, it's traditional to give women a flower called the mimosa. It's yellow and gorgeous.

at school

:( it's blurry

Italian Elena - always

Italian papa brought home flowers for everyone

Completely unrelated: today in math class, I thought I heard the word matzoh. I misheard, of course. The word was really ammazzare which means to kill. Anyway, this led to a 30 minute discussion of Passover. Passover is right around the corner! So my question is, do I attempt to throw together a seder for my host fam? Would they enjoy it? Does anyone enjoy Passover seder? Am I capable of pulling it off? I mean, obviously I'm capable, but do I want to put in the effort? I need guidance.

Lastly, a picture Luke emailed me of my dogggggie dog:

Love y'all. Ciao.