I will write you the latest over my homemade rocket salad (complete with fresh basil, tomatoes, and mozzarella). Let's start with last Thursday night...
Our Italian classes went on a "field study" to see a new production called "In The Food For Love" at a theater on Via Nationale. I was under the hopeful impression that we would be eating, but Becky popped that bubble for me over coffee after our last midterm and suggested I eat dinner. And it's a good thing I did, too, because if you saw "In The Food For Love," and you weren't hungry when you got there, you would be when you left. In general, it's a love story narrated by the chopping of vegetables and erratic musical performance. We watch as the main character and five others cook on a full kitchen while a live band plays hip tunes on the other side of the stage. The other five actors are not only that, they're acrobats. As the story unfolded and the smells of onions grilling wafted through the theater, jugglers tossed bowling pins high into the air with impressive accuracy. One woman swung from a trapeze, provoking gasps from the audience as she quickly, unpredictably fell ten feet only to catch herself gracefully, somehow untangled from the ropes and hanging comfortably from them as they swayed from side to side. The show was an overload on the senses. The music was never dull, the food smelled increasingly enticing, the visual entertainment was superb and all you wanted to do was eat eat eat. Being bored wasn't an option, and I left not only hungry, but satisfied and happy.
Unfortunately, my mood was spoiled by an alarming encounter with a homeless man on the 64, who took it upon himself to explain, in an unforeseen burst of anger, how much he hates US citizens because our cars are too big, we're all mafiosi, and we're all associated with Berlusconi (the center-right PM candidate in Italy's elections). This man was screaming so loudly in our faces that I could see the veins in his forehead bulging. He was so angry for no apparent reason and indeed, the way he snapped took us off guard. The names he was calling us were of the most offensive category. He continued to yell and complain for the entirety of the bus ride to Termini, kicking the doors closed at each stop, scaring the hell out of me and my friends, making everyone just a little bit too uncomfortable. We were glad to get off the bus and go home.
Friday was a lazy day for me. Liz and Caitlin went on a day trip, while I slept in and spent the day working on a project I had hoped to finish before Sunday. Instead, I talked to Spencer and headed over to Margi's house for dinner where we made tortellini and salad and drank wine, sharing in good conversation and good company.
Saturday I again worked on my project but made little progress. It was Saturday that the most delightful part of my weekend revealed itself...two little bird eggs hidden in a nest on our porch. The mother, whom we have nicknamed "Lu Lu," was causing a ruckus, and it took me a while to catch on to the idea that she might have something on the patio worth sticking around for. She sits on the eggs, nuzzled between the patio wall and the cactus pot, all day and keeps a watchful, suspicious eye on the three of us when we make our presence known. Strangely enough, my mom discovered two eggs on her patio, also. It's really Springtime, and it's really great.
Saturday night Liz and I celebrated our birthdays (hers is tomorrow, mine was Sunday) by going out with a bunch of friends for sushi. We got a big room downstairs. The wine was a dry red, which I've decided is my favorite kind. After dinner, like I knew they would, Liz and Caitlin attacked me with silly string. Every year, my mom sees to it. Sigh.
We went back to the apartment and had a few drinks, played some card games, and ate some cake. Liz and Caitlin had me open one of my presents, bubbles! Then we went to Campo dei Fiori for the closest thing I was ever going to get to an American 21st birthday. Margi showed up with her friend Lisa and brought me a rose and a selection of pastries, which I didn't open until Sunday morning, after they had been properly handled (I mean dropped seven times). I had a good time. Sunday we lounged around the house and I made pancakes for the three of us. I watered my new basil plant, checked on Lu Lu and had a birthday conversation with Spencer.
I finally finished my project, which I presented today and got compliments for. It's nice to be done with midterms, done with my presentation, and be able to think clearly without feeling a million obligations tugging at my brain.
The Italian elections were today and yesterday. They read the news of Berlusconi's lead like they're reading the weather. No change in expression, no sign of interest. They chew on the inside of their lip and turn the page. No surprise, as they change government so often. I would have voted for Veltroni and the Democratic Party, by the way.
Always missing home, but always adapting further.
