Drinks and Homesickness

Today, I am very tired, and I don’t know why. I work on homework and go to classes during the day and go out at night. Last night, we really needed to get outside, so we took a walk. We were debating whether to get gelatos, when Bethany suggested we go to a bar and order a drink. We picked out a classy looking restaurant and sat down. Now, I was determined not to order anything, but I soon began to feel awkward sitting at a table without ordering. I decided to peek at the menu of drinks. Finally, I had to give in. As Bethany and Meghan kept saying to me, it is an experience. Therefore, I ordered the only drink that I recognized, a martini. My martini came in a smallish water glass size. I took a sip and I became overcome with a strong taste of licorice. It was very bitter. Little by little, everyone sipped at their drink until there was none left.
School is going well, though I am feeling more stupid with my Italian by the minute. Meghan was in intro with me, but decided to switch to intermediate since she thought that beginner was too low for her and she wanted to learn more. She has not taken Italian yet, she has studied hard during the summer, and now she knows more than I do, and I took part of a class. She and Bethany will take half an hour and speak in all Italian to each other, which is nice, but they do not try to converse with me, even though it had been my idea in the first place.
This weekend, as a group, we are visiting the Roman Forum, the Colosseum and the Palatine hill. It should be a lot of fun and I am looking forward to it. Then on Sunday, we are going to Mass at the Vatican and attending the Angelus, and it will be lead by Pope Benedict XVI.
I am still dealing with a huge amount of homesickness for my family and friends. While I am here, I cannot help but feel tense and bewildered. Thoughts cross my mind like, “What am I doing here?” and “I don’t deserve to be here.” All of my classmates have higher IQs and seem to belong in this program more than I do. I am looking forward to being home, as much as I love Rome and enjoy traveling.

Assisi: a place of rest

I left you off when I said Goodbye to Hassam at the airport. Now the taxi ride was quite an experience. Not only was it my first ride in a taxi ever, but also I quickly learned how Romans drive.  The taxi driver hardly used the brake and was always switching lanes haphazardly as others were also trying to switch lanes. He also loves to use his horn and to tail whom ever was in front of him. It got worse once we were in Rome. The streets are smaller and the traffic is even more chaotic then on the highway. At one point, we were stuck in a huge traffic jam with mopeds zipping between cars and horns honking loudly. The driver turned to look at me and gave me a shrug as if to say “This is Rome for you!” after 15 minutes of praying for safety of my life in that car. We arrived at the Hotel Tiziano and after paying the taxi driver (40 Euros!) I entered the hotel and explained my situation to the

Concierge.  Apparently, they knew that I might try contacting them so they knew what to do. I was soon on the phone talking with Dr. Prebys and she told me to catch the first train to Assisi. So after the concierge called me another taxi. I drove to the train station bought a ticket to Assisi for 20 euro and I was on my way.

            After all, of the stress from travelling and the morning panic, I was extremely exhausted but I had to fight the jetlag, and let me tell you, the jetlag was winning. Since the morning I was always worried that something else might go wrong so I was tense the whole two hours to Assisi. It was not until I saw the sign outside the train station that said “Assisi” did I allow myself to relax and enjoy the stunning countryside and city of Assisi.

            I got off the train and flagged down another taxi. I showed him the name of the hotel address from the concierge and we drove up the winding mountain streets of Assisi. Assisi is a quaint and quiet town set on a side of a mountain. All the buildings have pink brick and clay rooftops. The higher we travelled up the mountain the more of the beautiful green countryside I could see behind me. After five minutes, the taxi stopped in front of a funny looking building that had stairs descending into the mountain. I met the man who ran the hotel (or as I found out later, a retreat center) and asked if the group from Saint Mary’s has arrived yet. I was surprised to hear that he was not expecting them for another half an hour. How did I manage to beat them?

            Well, apparently, they were still at the airport when I had left. What is even more amazing is that they were right where I had been franticly waiting for them. On the packet, it said that the people who were picking us up would be clearly marked as a group for Saint Mary’s. They must not have been clear enough, for I heard several people say how they had not noticed them either but by a happy coincidence, they noticed someone that they knew from the group.

Anyway, back to Assisi. The four days that we spent in Assisi were incredible! From climbing up the cobblestone roads to visiting churches to nightly gelatos, I felt that nowhere else could be a more relaxing place to recuperate from a stressful travelling schedule.  Every meal, except breakfast of course, is served with a bottle of wine and they served us one delicious course at a time ending with a bowl of fresh fruit for dessert. 

I seem to be followed, very closely, by my guardian angel during this trip because of not only what happened in the airport, but also when I lost my sweater. I had dropped it while we were walking down to visit a smaller chapel at the bottom of Assisi. After we went through the chapel, it had started raining.  I reached in my purse to look for my sweater, thankful that I had something dry to put on, when I realized it was not there. I backtracked all the way back to our hotel and gave my sweater up for lost. The next day, we were sitting in the lobby before dinner, when a man came up to us and asked in Italian if we spoke English. He asked us if one of us had lost a sweater that looked like Meghan’s sweater. (Meghan was sitting right next to me wearing a similar sweater that I had just lost, and, obviously, he pointed to her.) I told him that I lost it yesterday and he went to get it. He said he found it before it was raining. I was so happy, so as he walked away, I blew him a kiss in thanks. Ok, so before you get any ideas, this man was dad’s age so it was harmless. Moreover, I was excited about my sweater. So anyway, he saw me blow him a kiss and he goes “No, no! You give me a real kiss on the cheek.” I thought this was a little strange so I stand up and walked over to him. He grabbed my arms and we kissed cheek to cheek as Italian friends do. I was blushing when I sat back down with my friends, but I guess it is normal for the Italians. After dinner, I saw him again and he asked where we were from and was being friendly asking questions about studies. He was a nice guy and I was happy to have met him. It seems as if there is many people in Italy willing to help as many people as they can.

On Saturday, were given the whole afternoon off. So, me, Meghan, and Bethany, decided to walk down to the little neighboring town at the bottom of the hill to see the San Maria de Grazie Basilica. It took us about 40 minutes to reach our destination. I was surprised how huge the church was. In a gift shop that was connected to the church, I bought a cheap wooden bracelet rosary. I took the bracelet and had it made a relic by both Saint Frances and Saint Claire.  The next day, we had mass in the chapel, one last lunch and then we gathered on the bus and headed towards Rome.

A Warm Italian Welcome

Well, I have made it safely in Rome. Although, my arrival at the Leonardo Da Vinci airport was nothing short if a nightmare.  I had arrived exhausted and unfocused at the airport around 9:30 a.m. Italy time.  I remembered that the meeting place for everyone else was to be outside of baggage claim starting at 11:30. So I sat down at a spot where I thought was our meeting point and waited. 11:30 came and went. I never saw anyone else who looked like a Saint Mary’s student arriving at the airport. Nor was there a representative anywhere with a “clearly marked sign” declaring that they were waiting for Saint Mary’s Rome Program participants.

            I started walking up and down the airport with my entire luggage looking for any sign of the group. Feeling extremely panicky, I tried to use a pay phone to call Dr. Prebys. She did not answer the phone, at close examination of the number, I found that the only two numbers I have for her were for her Home, and Office, both, which I was sure, would not work in my situation. As I walked away close to tears, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a short man watching me closely. I tried to ignore him. I looked through my purse for my wallet so that I may try to call Professor Checca, when I realized that my wallet was missing. I kept rummaging desperately hoping that I had just missed it in my purse.

            I noticed the guy who was watching me earlier walk slowly up to me and was still staring at me. I looked up and saw that he was peering very closely at me. I flashed him a weak sort of smile and kept searching for my wallet.  “What color is it?” He asked me in an accent I did not recognize. “Umm…uh” I stuttered not knowing what to say. “Your wallet,” He said, “what color?” I started bumbling to describe my wallet to him. He nodded and handed me my wallet and explained how he saw me place the wallet on top of the phone while I made my call.  Then, he asked if I needed help and I explained my situation to him.  “Ok, first thing you need to do is to calm down. You can’t solve anything by freaking out.” He told me his name was Hassan and He was going home to Cairo after a five-hour layover in Rome. He told me that he would stay with me until I was safe. He found me a trolley and load my bags up on and insisted on pushing it for me. Together we searched for my group all the while he was telling me to stay calm and not to worry. At one point, he was talking to me and handed me a cigarette and I, who was still dazed and panicky, took it before realizing what it was. I quickly told him that I do not smoke.

Do not worry; I did not have my first cigarette. I almost gagged on the smoke from his cigarette. After about an hour, Hassan and I were becoming friends, and I found myself feeling calmer and I was able to make jokes. At this time, it was about 2:30 p.m., which was the time half an hour after the bus was suppose to leave for Assisi. Hassam offered to buy me a cappuccino, for which I gladly accepted having not slept a wink on the flight over. He asked me whether I felt better and I told him I did, and then he asked me what I should do. After thinking for a bit, I decided that the best thing to do would be to take a taxi to the Hotel Tiziano and see if the head of the hotel had the number to Dr. Prebys’ cell phone. He patted my shoulder and said that I was finally thinking straight and escorted me to the taxi stop.

After arranging a taxi to drive me to the hotel Tiziano Hassan handed me a 20 Euro bill. I started to protest saying that I had enough money for the taxi, but he told me, “Don’t worry! I am an engineer! I’m rich!” I was so grateful for all of his help that I gave him a hug and he kissed my cheek.  I did not want to forget him so I took a picture with him and he wrote down his e-mail because he wanted me to write him to let him know if I made it to my group safely. After one last goodbye hug, I climbed into the taxi, which drove away towards Rome.