Naples rubbish

Read this

and then read

this.

In case you were unaware, the mafia is alive and well in Italy. They are an alternative form of government in the South, and most Southerners have no will to change the Mafia's control on their lives nor the faith to believe anything they could do would make a difference.

It's not just because the dumps are full. It's a problem with roots far deeper than that. It's corruption and there has got to be a solution.

Saying goodbye. Ever so slowly.

If I had a memory like this, I wouldn't need this thing.

Pretty darn cool. I'm munching on sunflower seeds and avoiding doing any of the many things I should be. It's about time to start packing up my room. More importantly, it's time to study for finals. I have four next week, three of which are on Tuesday.

Today is the first humid day of the season. It's just hot enough to be slightly uncomfortable if you're up and moving around. Up until now it's been sunny and warm, but breezy and satisfying. Luckily I won't be here much longer, so I'll avoid the soaring temperatures. But, it promises to be a hot summer in Bloomington, too.

These last few weeks have been weird ones. It's all starting to feel a bit nostalgic, and I'm starting to say my proper goodbye to the city that has housed me for four months. I'm walking more slowly, I'm trying to sense as much as possible. The trees outside our apartment smell like blooming flowers, and the sweetness is intoxicating. It penetrates every part of our home. Near school, the green lagoon that is the Tiber looks more and more beautiful the close I get to leaving. Knowing that I am leaving soon makes the city much more habitable, as I am no longer surviving it, I am enjoying it while I can.

I've been spending a lot of time with Cait and Liz, as usual. We went to dinner at Isadora on Thursday evening and made lemon chicken for dinner together last night. We cracked open a coconut in the middle of the hallway with whatever tools we could find, only to discover that it wasn't very fresh and therefore wasn't very tasty. After some nightly escapades of climbing the stairs and trying to find the roof, we settled for the little courtyard in the middle of our building that we'd never been in before. We laid in the middle of the square traced by our apartment complex and watched our little patch of sky pass over head. It was like a dream. A dimly lit, surreal, beautiful dream. This morning we woke up at 5 and watched the sun rise at the Colosseum. It was lovely and cool and quiet. The Colosseum will never be anything less than stunning in my eyes. It has a way of hypnotizing the viewer, especially when it's empty and still. I slept until 1 pm this afternoon, something I haven't done in a very long time. I just returned from the grocery where the old man at the meat, bread and cheese area kissed my hand and wished me a happy Sunday. It's Saturday, but I knew what he meant.

My roommate Liz really loves these puffy cheese balls. She eats them by the bag. We have all decided that they will come visit Indiana as soon as possible. Of course, we will try to travel to one another's homes, but Indiana is a good meeting point for the first reunion. I am so lucky to have been placed with such great roommates.

Stacy arrives on Friday, in less than a week. How exciting! I think finals should be easy if I put my nose to the grindstone and study as much as I need to. It will be really nice to have school off my back.

I discovered the pastry shop near our house. It could be the end of me. It's so delicious. The counters are lined with incredible little tarts and cream puffs and round wafers with bavarian cream and fruits on top. I bought my political science professor a mimosa cake to celebrate his graduation and his new title of "Dr. Toaldo". It was delicious. Liz and I stopped in on our way to the store today and bought a few yummy treats for a few euro.

Well anyway, I think that's a good update for now. I should go study. Italy really is beautiful, especially now, in the late spring, when the bees are buzzing and the birds sing and the air smells warm and sweet with flowers and green leaves.

Georgia

I find this appalling

and I think you will too.

My roommate Caitlin read that article to me a few minutes ago. I can't get over it. All cases like that do is discourage women from standing up for themselves and reporting their sexual abuses, and encourage men to take advantage of whomever they please, knowing that the chances are slim they will ever be caught and punished. WHY should a woman ever have to disclose all of her previous sexual interactions in a rape case not connected to any of them? Why should she ever have to PAY for her rapist's court fees? If you have been assaulted, you should be able to go to the authorities and the legal system should back you and bring you justice. That's what it's there for. Why are there conditions that must be met for a rape to be a rape? If you say no, and someone forces you to do otherwise, it's rape. No matter what. And for god sake, why should it ever matter if you're a virgin or not? That's completely irrelevant and invasive, and it's embarrassing to have to disclose that information in detail to authorities, just so they can decide, based on your past decisions, whether or not you were asking for it. I am disgusted.

Update.

Today has been lovely. It was sunny and 80ish. I woke up around 10:30 and started one of my two history papers that I plan on finishing before Monday. I checked on the baby birds on the porch and watched Lulu (mother bird) feed them for a few minutes. They are yellow and awkward and have yet to open their eyes, but I adore them nonetheless. My porch has turned into a tree house now that the leaves are out and the branches that reach over towards our kitchen on the 3rd floor are green and full. Birds nest included. I need a hammock.

Caitlin, Jules and I went to the music festival in Piazza San Giovanni. It was really cool to look at but not as fun to attend if you weren't Italian. I couldn't understand any of the music and I was a little nervous about all the inebriated people, but it was fun to jump around and dance and listen to music on such a lovely day. We left after about an hour and spent the rest of the day relaxing at home. I am more than 3/4 of the way done with my paper. I'll finish it tomorrow.

I made a super spicy dinner. So spicy that I couldn't finish it. Caitlin and I watched "Can't Hardly Wait" and reminisced about high school. Now I am tired and ready for sleep and hopefully better dreams than last night.

A small update. More later concerning the Romans and their ways.

Coco fresco

The cost of fruit

Today Liz, Caitlin and I went to the beach. It was beautiful, sunny, not too hot. We managed to meet up with Laura and Elena, as well. The sand was hot on the soles of my feet. The water was cold. The breeze was salty. I went treasure hunting along the shore and left with a pocket full of clinking seashells. There is something so luring about the sea. I feel like all the grime is washed away when I wade into the salty blue water. The ebb and flow reminds me of the way it feels to be rocked to sleep by a loving mother, and there is very little so hypnotizing than the sound of the ocean meeting the shore.

I'm not sunburned, except for on my right shoulder. I noticed there were no seagulls, instead there were vendors, equally annoying. There were the usual men selling hats and jewelry, but there were also men selling coconut and beach blankets, and women offering a "nice oily massagi". No, No, and No. Thanks.

We're exhausted. The beach has a way of draining you, while leaving you completely rejuvenated at the same time. Tomorrow I think we'll head to the flea market and then perhaps a picnic with Becky and others. Last night we went to Mr. Brown's in Trestevere for awhile. The trip home left a bad taste in my mouth. We caught the N4 home, along with a bunch of overly intoxicated people, all of which looked as though they might possibly vomit all over the place at any moment. One man, perhaps 35, heavyset, got on and from across the bus was trying to get my attention by drunkenly grabbing my leg, touching my arm, groaning in Italian. The boys with us got defensive and decided it was their responsibility to be chivalrous by standing up to him. This did nothing but provoke him, and soon enough he was kicking and hitting the metal bars on the interior of the bus and becoming evermore aggressive. We got off the bus early, frustrated, and walked 20 minutes home, while the boys fed each others egos by saying things like, "We shoulda decked him. We woulda been justified. He would have gone down, man." I just wanted to get home.

So tonight we're staying in. I've learned my lesson about going out at night. Be home in time to take the metro.

In other news, I really love my roommates and I'm going to miss them a lot when we leave. Time has flown by. I can't believe we only have a month left of class.

Twenty second year.

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.

Recycle.

Food for thought...

Here I am, 11:23 pm, studying for two midterms, both of which are tomorrow and both of which I don't yet feel prepared for. The best part about it has got to be studying with my roommates and hardly being able to contain our crazy giggling (over nothing, really). I will miss them when we leave. Which is in 6 weeks, might I add.

The cocoa puffs here taste really strange. They're not called Cocoa Puffs, either, but I don't remember their official title. I took a big swig of milk that had gone bad yesterday and by some miracle managed not to gag and spit it all over Caitlin. Now I'm out of milk and decent cereal, but who wants to go grocery shopping? The Italians are slow, as it is. Imagine being in a small aisle with seven of them, all pulling their little rolling shopping baskets.

I got a great package in the mail from my mom today. Included were two types of excellent tea, a few candles, and some appropriate Gerber products. Happy Birthday to me! Only, my moment was ruined when another girl walked into my Italian class with a box twice the size of mine, filled to the brim with all the food you would find in a fully equipped pantry, goldfish and jelly included. Oh well. It's still almost my birthday, and my 21st at that. Bam.

Speaking of, I'm not sure what the plans are, but I know there will be some for our birthdays. I say "ours" because Liz's is two days after mine. So, we'll probably do sushi and head over to Campo de Fiori, the closest thing we'll get to an American 21st birthday celebration. This week is also Little 500 at home. What a great weekend it would be if I were there. Actually, I'd probably be working. Nevermind.

I do miss work though. Strangely enough. I had a dream last night that I was serving table 15 through 19 and kept getting double sat, which really shouldn't have been an issue, but I couldn't seem to remember the necessary skills I needed to properly serve the customers. I was frazzled, overwhelmed, forgetting drinks and how to abbreviate things legibly. I could feel them all glaring at me with disdain. They just wanted their damn coffee.

I got a letter from Chris yesterday. Delight!

So it's Spring (La Primavera) here and the trees are green and these incredible purple flowers are hanging on vines off of buildings. They're so beautiful, I want to eat them.

I'm really just putting off studying any longer, so I will get back to it. But I could really go for...say, a Snickers.




Recycle.