The Learning Curve - Day 3

I gave up trying to sleep around 6AM and booted up my laptop to answer some emails. Apparently I got carried away, as usual, and lost track of time because before I knew it it was 7:40 and only had a half hour to get ready and eat breakfast. Half awake I threw on some clothes and joined the rest of my housemates in the kitchen for a quick breakfast. All of us who had drank Red Bull the night before had trouble sleeping, surprise surprise. Around 8:15 we finally left to head to the British Institute for our first day of Italian classes. I practically ran there, nervous that I would be late only to realize upon arrival that they had told us to be there a half hour early to make sure we were actually there by 9, thats so the last time I'm ever going to worry about arriving exactly when they tell us too because they clearly add in extra leeway time.

For everyone who had already taken Italian there was a placement test to see how much we remembered. I was handed a sheet of paper that I was supposed to fill in as best I could. Exhausted from not sleeping the night before I practically miss spelled my name, and forgetting that in Italia they write the date day, month, year wrote the date wrong as well. I wasn't off to a good start and it wasn't going to get any better. After staring at the sheet of paper in front of me for about three minutes overwhelmed by the Italian words I did NOT understand I decided to bail on this whole placement test idea altogether. I got up from my seat and not all too quietly walked over to the professor in the middle of the small room and explained to him that I really did not know anything and needed to be in with the beginners. Slightly embarrassed I handed him the blank placement test and walked out of the room to talk to the director of the JMU program and our on site faculty member, Dr. Onestak, who were talking outside. I again explained to both of them that I had only taken one semester of Italian over a year and a half ago and that I really remembered nothing and should be placed back in with the beginners. I got a friendly and joking "Good job Claire, way to have paid attention." from Dr. Onestak as I was shown to the classroom with all the beginners. Three of my housemates laughed as I sheepishly entered the room and took a seat at the front of the class.

I apparently remembered more that I had thought because I knew half of what our teacher went over but was glad to have a refresher course instead of one were I was in wayyy over my head.

After Italian a group of us wandered around Florence and grabbed panini's for lunch before my room mate and I headed back to our house to take a much needed nap. With no more classes I had to attend that day I PASSED OUT exhausted from the night before. I have no idea exactly how long I slept for but before I knew it my classmates were back from there classes later that afternoon.

Around five o'clock four of us decided to take a walk and took a 2+ hour self guided tour of the city. I brought my camera and took over 200 photo's, often times having to run to catch up with my house mates whom had gotten tired of waiting for me and had started to move on knowing I would eventually follow.

A few photos from our walk:

Apparently not owning a horse has reverted me back to a horse crazy child because I now feel the need to touch just about every horse I see, including these poor over worked carriage horses. I must be deprived, because under normal circumstances I would never have felt the urge to even approach let alone pat EVERY single one of them (there were four). I feel like I'm 6 again begging for pony rides.

We went to an out door marked and I bought a cashmere scarf I had haggled down to 10 euro. I don't think I got a deal however as the vendor wasn't all that reluctant to sell it to me at that price.

We got home to the most amazing smell filling our apartment, dinner was almost ready. Since my and Monica's (my room mate) room is the biggest it has been designated the official hangout spot. All six of us slowly gathered in my room to await dinner and tried to wake Monica, still asleep from her afternoon nap.

The meals here just keep getting better, as we had more pasta for our first course and the most delicious turkey I have ever tasted for our second. Our host mother and her live in boyfriend excused themselves from the table after dinner as the six of us continued to talk about everything and anything for the next hour plus.

Around 11 we decided to go get some gelato, or as we have (in our house) made the noun into a verb, we went gelating. This city never sleeps, tons of people were still up and walking around, and they weren't all teenagers either, at 11 and I had heard other italian's who live in our building arrive home from a night out at 4, 5, 5:30 in the morning the night before. I love it!

At some point during the course of the day my housemates came up with the brilliant and fun idea to talk in different accents everyday, I think to try and convince other tourist and Italians that we were actually from that country and not America, or it was so if we were caught doing something stupid (which we SO never ever will do, yeah right) people would think 'ahh Dumb (insert nationality here:)' instead of 'dumb Americans'. Okay, you caught me. So there really is no real point to our different accents but it sounded like a cool and fun thing to do. We'll see how long it lasts. Today was English accents, and as we went 'gelating' the girls in my house practiced their British accents. It made everything SO much more amusing.

After a failed attempt to meet up with other kids from our program to go 'pub' hoping, Jeff (one of my house mates, and the only one who wanted to go out drinking) and I headed back to our house and hung out with the other four until about 1AM, laughing, planning weekend trips, and for some of us speaking in accents the whole time. I showed them my Skizu Rock-it Pockets Video that everyone found entertaining and played music until everyone finally decided to head to bed.

First Night Out! Day 2 1/2

After another AMAZING meal from our host mama the six of us slowly got ready to go out for our first night on the town. Burning out my straightener as soon as I plugged it in to my converter made getting ready much easier as I could now only wear my hair up. About 20 of us all met at Piazza Santa Croce and after much waiting for the rest of our group to arrive we all started in the general direction of our final destination. 10 minutes later we realized we had NO idea where we were headed and a girl from are group found some other American students, who had been here longer, who were headed to the same destination. There were a ton of other american teenagers out in the city and they were easy to spot. Our final destination, The Lion's Fountain, must have been the most American bar in Florence. Our group of now 20+ filed into what was a rather uncrowded bar as we clearly started the party. Inside we found americans, and other english speaking natives, from all over but there wasn't a single Italian in the place. I met a REALLY cute Australian named Scott, who was two months into a six month holiday traveling the world. We met kids from University of West Virginia, Penn State, Arizona State, and countless other Universities. Some where studying in the city for the summer and others where just merely tourists passing through.

One guy we met from Jersey had requested they play Beyonce's Single Ladies, a rather strange request coming from a very New Jersey looking guido. When the song came on we discovered much to everyones delight that he had memorized the ENTIRE, and I do mean ENTIRE, dance. Breaking it down like Beyonce this man danced for the full duration of the song to the cheers of everyone at the now rather crowded bar.

Not yet realizing the full consequences of what I was doing I joined in on rounds of Jager-Bombs, shots of Jager dropped into Red Bull. NOT the smartest idea as I later discovered Red Bull + jet lag = not a good decision and I was unable to sleep at all when amazingly enough the five of us finally made it home without getting lost.

Orientation Day 2

I love my host mother, Signora Graziella Vercesi!!! She speaks no English, which makes communicating hilarious but rather ineffective. We were told at our first dinner that we had ten days to learn Italian or they would stop feeding us. I think she was kidding, I hope she was kidding. Our house is awesome. There are six of us in total, four girls and two boys. We had our first meeting today as a whole JMU study abroad group. There are 26 of us, in typical JMU style 9 boys and 17 girls. We tried to take a walking tour of the city today but it was raining, which made the tour rather miserable.

The view from the window in my room

Video of my first time to Piazza della Signoria (Day 1). Geeking out a little bit, hence the shakiness.

Arriving in Florence Day 1

Amazingly enough I made it to Florence in one piece. After saying bye to my Mum in the Logan Airport International Terminal, which bye the way is wayyy nicer than any other part of Logan I've ever been in, I boarded my flight to Paris. Squished next to a German couple that did not speak any English I spent the next 6 hours trying to sleep, playing solitaire, and watching half of Invictus.

I arrived in Paris at 6:25 AM local time, and was off the plane by 6:40. I had 40 minutes to make my connecting flight, just enough time, right? So wrong. What started out as a fast walk turned into an all out sprint to my terminal, cutting 3/4 of the line for the passport check apologizing all the way. I desperately asked the security worker who stamped my passport where I could find the bus to take me to terminal 2G. She pointed vaguely and told me I'd find it, that it was clearly marked. Well it was maybe clearly marked if you spoke french but for a semi panicked american girl it was a bit of a struggle. I sprinted down the rest of the airport stopping once I reached the end to ask the "security", soldiers, that looked no older than 17, with machine guns!! (I was SO not in America anymore) what direction I should head to find my bus, I got slightly better directions from them, and took off again down the stairs to finally reach my bus outside.

I received a look from the bus driver that could only have meant 'Stupid American girl. Can't you read?' when I asked, in english, if this was the bus to take me to terminal 2G. I sheepishly took a seat glancing at my watch every two seconds for the remainder of the bus ride as if somehow magically there would be an inverse relationship between how long it would take to get there and the number of times I looked at my watch.

Finally arriving at 2G, I took a sigh of relief, I had 20 whole minutes before my plane left to get to my gate. That state of relief was short lived. Walking into the terminal I realized I would have to go through security yet AGAIN. Frantically trying to get the french equivalent of a TSA worker to let me move to the front of the line because my plane left in, now 15, minutes! I was unreassuringly told I had plenty of time. Phhh, sure. I didn't even bother to retie my shoes as I shoved my laptop back into my backpack and took off at a full RUN up the stairs and down the terminal to my gate, while Florence LAST CALL, flashed in red on the monitors. I heard the airline announce my name as I practically threw my boarding pass and passport at the Airline worker to scan my ticket. I jogged outside and hurried up the steps to the flight attended waiting for me. The door to the tiny jet was closed before I took my seat and we were off.

The flight to Florence was short, only an hour and 1/2 and I sat across from a VERY cute french man. He looked like a younger version of Usher with a european twist. 25 minutes into the flight a women who was sitting in the same row as him tried to wake him

so she could get by to use the lavatory, he woke with a start practically jumping out of his seat. I couldn't help but laugh, he laughed back and smiled at me and then asked me something in French. I shook my head not understanding anything he said. Realizing I did not speak French he asked if I spoke Italiano, and then Espanol. We were at a loss. Bummed my poor language skills hindered any chance of conversation with this Usher look alike I tuned out to Kid Cudi on my ipod and fell asleep for the rest of the flight.

Once landing in Florence I was psyched to see my suitcase did not get lost and had actually arrive with me!!! After telling "customs" that I came from the US and had nothing I wanted to declare I was sent on my way, they didn't even stamp my passport... I was greeted by Chiara our go to lady at the airport, was handed a folder with a map glued on the front of it, given money and put into a taxi and told I needed to be at our school by 9 tomorrow.

Coming really, REALLY, close to getting motion-sick in the back of the taxi, I was torn between trying to see what I could of the city and desperately trying not to vomit all over the back seat as the taxi driver literally swaerved in and out of traffic and through crowds of pedestrians. I quickly realized street lines were more of a suggestion in Italia than a rule. Arriving at my destination, Via De Neri numero sei, I struggled with the fact my host family's name was not listed on the call buttons. My taxi driver took pity on me and called my host families number that I had forlornly handed him. He then told me my host mother would be down in a minute and I was left waiting, on the sidewalk, with no cellphone and no idea where I was, in a country where I do not (yet) speak the language, sitting on my suitcase PRAYING someone would come and retrieve me.