Add a Seat to the Table

Last Wednesday, an Italian family welcomed me into their home for a home cooked meal.  I have been invited to plenty of houses for dinner in prior years.  The difference with prior invites, however, is that I knew the people asking me into their home.  I could somewhat anticipate the event.  I always knew, for instance, that my good friend, Ashley, would have her mother make us soft-shell tacos, because they are our favorite dish.  I always know that I will talk about school when I eat with grandmother, and that I will discuss music and politics with my brother.  But I had little expectation with my Italian dinner-date.  I had never met the family, nor had any idea if they spoke a word of the English language.

Luckily, the language wasn't much of a barrier.  Carolina, the 17-year-old daughter of the d'Aloja family, introduced me to herself and her father on campus last Wednesday.  Turns out, Carolina is a reversed verion of me.  She is an Italian student at Instituto Phillipine, but had studied abroad last semester in Rhode Island.  She speaks English fabulously.  Actually, her whole family is rather fluent, maybe from traveling between Europe and the US regularly.  Carolina has a 15-year-old sister, Angelica, who is absolutely beautiful and also attends school at Instituto Phillipine.  Their father has a career in the medical field; their mother owns her own pest control business.  The family lives happily in a nice neighborhood, under a roof with white walls, 1 dog, 3 cats, and a whole lot of artwork.

I can appreciate their love for art and animals.  In fact, their home actually reminded me a lot of my own home.  Not only does my mother adore animals, but she is also very fond of artwork.  Walking into my house in Iowa is like walking into a museum of random statues, paintings, and other home-made decor.  This home, too, felt a little like that.  Although the walls were white (much different from my mom's multi-colored painted walls), there were personal touches that gave it warmth and color.  Abstract paintings, which were created and given by a close friend, are planted around the entire home.  Their black-and-white family photos were unique, with them laying in the grass and their dog running in the background.  The lamp and lighting fixtures were modern and hung directly over the dining table.

I loved this candid family picture.

Angelica and her mother preparing our plates.

As one could imagine, dinner was another delight within itself.  To begin, we drank sparkling white wine (a fine wine that I haven't been able to afford abroad) and ate a variety of bruschetta.  The primi, or first course, was a dish of fresh linguini with raw salmon.  Probably - no, definitely, my favorite plate I've had in Italy.  Our secondi - the second course - consisted of two types of cooked potatoes and mixed pork/beef meat balls.  Definitely not something I was used to; nevertheless, I'm never shy in the name of food.  It was delicious.  And for dessert, we enjoyed lemon pound cake and apricot biscottis, the Italian cookie.

But it wasn't just the home-cooked meal, or the floral linen towels in the bathroom, that made me feel at home.  The family had an exceptional bond - a bond that I haven't noticed in many American families.  The parents held their cats, petting them in between bites of food at the table.  The girls were spoke openly, about school, relationships, experiences, interests, and so much more.  Conversation was not pre-planned like I've so many times witnessed at dinner events.  We shared our thoughts, our ideas, our lives in Italy.  They also pulled out some photo albums, showing me visuals and telling me stories of their adventures in the United States.

Carolina and her father took me back to my dorm around 10:30 that night.  They got out of their car to hug me goodbye and told me I was welcome to come back anytime.  I left them with a smile, thinking to myself, this is the first time I've felt home since living in Italy.  I've been overseas for three months, and just as things start to get warm and cozy, I know I must leave to go back to America in less than two weeks.  I hope to come back again someday.  And if I do, I hope to take the d'Aloja family's invitation for dinner.

Money: What's it Worth?

Before leaving America, I was told several times by people that traveling abroad would forever change me as an individual.  That I would have a new view on life; a different perspective on what it means to be human in the world we live in.  I always nodded my head, agreeing like I understood what they said.  But I never really comprehended the meaning.

Now I get it.  Or I sort of do, at least.  It is not something that I can describe in words.  I also know that this indescribable feeling will only be epitomized when I am adjusted back into my home country.  But this feeling, or this perspective, feels more relevant every day as I travel across the world.

Particularly with the concept of currency.  Money.  For me, I had always been familiar with green-colored-wealth, and symbolized $ signs, and George Washinginton's profile on coins.  American currency seemed prominent, because it was all I knew.   I knew people worked hard to earn it, and that others did bad things to get it.  I knew that more was better, and that I needed it to attain the things I wanted. 

Truthfully, the US dollar is not all that great.  It's a filthy, flabby piece of paper, as most world-wide currency typically is.  The difference between the US dollar, the EU euro, and the UK pound (three currencies I have used within the last couple months) is that the dollar is actually weighed much less.  It's not in high demand.  In other words, one American dollar is equal to only two thirds of one UK pound. 

My wallet is filled (well, not filled) with colorful banknotes, shiny Queen Elizabeth's, and some green Ben Franklin's.  I know each bill comes from a different region and I know that one bill may be worth more than another.  But overall, all the money in my wallet seems to just mesh together.  I know see that money is just money, and not much more than that.

It's like trading a potato for an apple.  Like currency, the volume and color changes slightly.  The potato is dense, dull, and colorless; the apple is lighter and may be green, red, or even yellow.  Likewise, the nutrition, or value of the two pieces of produce, changes because potatoes are to satisfy starches, whereas an apple is packed with Vitamin C.  Nonetheless, you're exchanging something to get something in return.  To think that one form of currency (or one food item) is superior begins to seem a bit naive.  

This only seemed more relevant when I walked into the British Museum in London.  There was a display of currencies from different time periods in different regions.  The comparison of all the riches was not shown to demonstrate wealth, but rather to show that all people have always used different forms in exchange.  We are all really very similar in that way, as people.

I realize this more and more everyday:  Everyone is similar, despite our location on the globe.  It is easy to contrast diverse cultures - in fact, it's almost an expectation to find differences when traveling abroad.  However, I have come to find that exploring our similarities, not our differences, is what makes our world beautiful.

Up, up, and away.

The town of Paderno, Italy, is calm and peaceful.  I enjoy it;  I can always count on the relaxation this place provides, particuarly in the mist of stressful school days and crazy travel weekends.  But sometimes, I crave something less composed and more spontaneous.  I want a thrill.  I want something to call home about.
So what do I do?  I jump off mountains.

Monte Grappa

Monte Grappa is part of the Veneto Prealp region and is 1,775 meters (that is nearly 6,000 feet) high.  Luckily, crazy CIMBA students like myself have easy access to this mountain, as it sits within a short distance of our campus.  This landscape provides adventure for anyone, depending on what one may be interested in.  There is hiking, horseback riding, cycling, and most importantly, paragliding.

Me launching off Monte Grappa

Paragliding.  Where do I begin to explain this air-sport?  I suppose it all begins with the wind.  This sport greatly relies and is determined by the amount of wind present.  It consists of a person sitting in a harness, which is suspended below a fabric wing, or parachute.  Once you are all set up, with all the gear in place, you run towards the side of the mountain.  It is important to run fast; this pulling force will allow the wind to inflate the parachute.  And all of a sudden, you will begin to float up, up, and away, far from any form of land.  No, this activity was not designed for those afraid of heights.

But for those okay with flying above mountain tops, take my word: It's an incredible experience.  I was in the air for fifteen minutes, and not one minute felt unsafe.  In fact, it felt liberating.  Like I was flying over... well, mountain tops and forests.  It was like those flying dreams we all experience, but put in reality.  Undoubtedly, I would do it all over again.

Lake Como: Natural Tranquility

Last Friday, I called my dad to tell him where in the world I was.

"Lake Como?  What's that?"  I had never heard of it, either.  Actually, I had heard of it, but I definitely couldn't point it out on a map, let alone tell someone which country it was in.

Lake Como is located in Lombardy, Italy.  It is the third largest lake in the entire country.  Thankfully, one of my friends on campus suggested venturing out to this location as a last resort for our travel weekend.  She explained it was only a hop, jump, and a 30 euro train ticket away.  For a random adventure with a small price to pay, I promptly nodded my head with approval. 

Turns out, Lake Como is well... how do I say this: BEAUTIFUL?  It is no wonder why big celebs, such as George Clooney and Madonna, spend big money to have villas here.  The land is comprised of clear waters, the Alpine mountain tops, and tropical/sub-tropical plants.  Bright colored buildings and elegant homes peak out from all over the mountains.  The lake itself is shaped like a "Y" and has three small towns at each point: Bellagio, Menaggio, and Verenna.  There is a ferry service to transport you between the locations around the water.   Lake Como is wealthier area in Italy; however, is entirely reasonable when traveling during the winter off season.

This is what my friends and I did - granted, it was all we could afford as college students.  But I would not have it any other way.  We booked a perfectly suitable apartment in Menaggio (with a bathroom, bedroom, living-area, and kitchen) that was located right on the lakeshore for 20 euro a night.  It was purely serene.  In fact, I believe we were the only people staying in our apartment.  The town was quiet, with few locals walking their dogs and children on bicycles.  The land was awakening, with crisp, spring air, little bits of wild life and vibrant scenery.

If ever given the opportunity to travel around Italy, I would absolutely recommend a visit to Lake Como.  It is perfect for those who appreciate nature and tranquility.  

Booking, booking, booking.

I book all day long.  I book academically, flipping through pages assigned in class.  I also book travel-wise.  I book the locations, the hostels, the trains, and flights, and buses, and so on.

I'll say this simply:  There are starting to be too many books.  I am trying to figure out all my reservations and complete all four papers assigned to me within four days.  Four days.  Splendid.

And although I'm sleepy-eyed, barely comprehending what I'm typing at this moment, I should thank CIMBA yet again for another thing:

Thank you, CIMBA.  Thank you for teaching me some time management strategies.  Because, quite frankly, I sucked at managing my time before.  And it leaves me feeling angry.  And now I have an angry blog post. My first angry blog post.  NOOOO.

I am aware that I am perhaps being too honest and blunt.  But being honest never hurt anyone.  In fact, it might help those who are anticipating a future trip out of the country.  Further more, it may help students who are considering to study and/or travel abroad.

To keep you from feeling stressed and wanting to pull out your own hair, I have some words of advice.

Megan's 6 Scheduling Tips to Live By:

• Get an agenda book.  I've never loved mine more.
• List every location that you'd like to visit prior to all your trips.  Then, sketch a brief plan for which days you will travel to specific places.  This way, you wont leave with regrets of missing a desired spot.
• Book all reservations in advance.  Seriously.  A flight CAN go up 30 euro within one day.
• Save absolutely every copy and every receipt in regards to your flight/train/bus/hotel information.
• If taking classes, don't bother bringing your academics on trips.  For one, books and notepads take up packing room.  Secondly, are you really going to be productive when exploring a new town?   Probably not.
• However, DO YOUR HOMEWORK - preferably before you travel.  Know when assignments are due and fit them into a feasible schedule that correlates with your trips.  

I am not going to claim that my tips will create a "smooth sail" for your life abroad.  But it will make things easier for you.  Take it from someone who learned the hard way.  I'm either going to Rome, Barcelona, or Verona in three days... for not cheap.  Not sure which it will be; I'll figure it out once I get these papers figured out.

Over and out.

My Favorite Little Places

Within this last week, I have had the privilege to travel to three amazing countries: Spain, Belgium, and France.  I did what any typical world-traveler does.  I checked out the Eiffel Tower and the Mona Lisa; I visited the Sagrada Familia and walked through a Dolce and Gabanna; I went to Grand Place in Brussels and drank the notorious Belgium beer.

Don't get me wrong - I love doing the "tourist thing," I really do.  But truthfully, I often find the most joy in walking into those unfamiliar places.  Those places not included in the "Top 10 Sites to See" list.

La Boqueria market was something we happened to stumble upon in Barcelona, Spain.  Although many locals could or should be familiar of this market, it was something entirely unfamiliar to myself and friends.

In consideration to my last few entries, one thing is pretty apparent: I am an absolute foodie.  I love food.  In addition to this, I LOVE food markets  - especially in foreign countries.  Personally, I feel there is no better way to really draw yourself into a culture than walking through large shops or markets.  You get incredible interaction that is often unreachable when touring a museum or snapping photos of a famous building. 

Arriving into Brussels, Belgium, automatically gave us three cravings: chocolate, beer, and most importantly, waffles.  Our group split up for a little bit, looking for different restaurants to fulfill different cravings.  Naturally, Mike and I wanted something sweet and hardy. That's just what we got: waffles, chocolate sauce, strawberries and whipped cream.  We also ate french fries (another Belgium cuisine) and some delish tomato soup.  

But the best part about this experience (maybe the second best.. the food was unreal) was the setting.  It was woodsy, with little intricate wall paintings, hanging chandeliers, and a staircase.  We sat next to a darling, warm fire place as we indulged in our fatty-licious meals.  One of my favorite moments in Brussels.

 

In Paris, France, we left the Notre Dame Cathedral and walked down small streets and checked out some cool shops.  One of which was an antique jewelry shop.  It was completely legit - all the jewelry was in very good condition, ranging from the early 1900's to the late 1960's.  An older French woman informed us on all the material used and advised which pieces were best for certain occasions.  I love antiques, especially antique jewelry - so sentimental and beautiful.  We loved it so much that we had to go back the next day before leaving Paris.

Keepin' it Fresh.

Though I love CIMBA with all my heart and soul, I must admit:  I do not love CIMBA's cafeteria.  Mainly because it 1. gives zero food variety and  2. gives zero nutritional value.  Every day (and I mean every day) our lunch and dinner is comprised of the exact same thing:  hard white bread, cheap pasta, and undistinguishable meat.  However, I will say this:  I am not going hungry.  And that is always something to smile about.

But I'm in Italy!  I thought I was supposed to be swimming in fresh mozzerella, and fine homemade pasta, and bright firm grapes.  Nope, not so much.  Rather, I feel like one big fat tortellini noodle every day instead.  And I start to miss my hometown drives to the Farmer's Market to pick up the simple fruits, and veggies, and nuts, and dairies, and wheats, all all the things I love most.  But I can't access those things here, not in small town Paderno. And then I cry a little bit inside.

But Crespano del Grappa, Italy wiped away my inner tears last Sunday.  Crespano is another small town, which is only a mile from campus - however, this small town has one thing Paderno doesn't: an OUTDOOR MARKET.  A massive outdoor market.  I'm talking a mile or longer outdoor market.  And it is open every Sunday morning.  

Luckily, the weather last Sunday was absolutely gorgeous (around 60 degrees fahrenheit) so the walk was enjoyable.  I went with four other girls with a couple of missions to fulfill: Raw almonds and fresh produce.  And by golly, did I ever succeed.  It was a dream come true for any deprived veg-head.

But Crespano's Sunday market did not only fulfill my produce wishes.  It also had cheese, and fish, and meat stations - a girl in my group actually got a chicken kabob with onions and peppers - it was fantastic.  Also, it had the random selection of things people may or may not come for - large pieces of fabric, and shoes, and fashionable outfits, and other items you wouldn't so much expect...

I left the outdoor market with the freshness of tomatoes, bananas, apples, mandarines, coconut/fruit mix, raisins, and almonds - all for under 12 euro.  I feel like I'm getting every vietamin (not only CIMBA's carbs) for this week.  Thanks, Crespano - I'll see you next Sunday. :)