dangle your feet and stick your thumb out. The life of girls in Italy

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So, the world of Italy. Its been beautiful here. It went straight from cold to summer and we are all fantastically ok with that. all the flowers are in bloom and walking down any street you are just enveloped by sweet smells. And then I try so hard not to think about how soon this is all going to come to a close.

One thing the warm weather did bring was TOURISTS. One does not venture down into the Center of Florence anymore. I've never seen anything like it. It’s a small city, so the tourists are literally smooshed in like sardines in the main piazzas. The one time I did venture was Easter Morning. and that is a story:

Every Easter for like, a 1,000 years they've processed "Holy Flint" that some...guy...at some point brought from Jerusalem. Yes, yes, I should do my research and tell you the real story, but this is what I know... So, they start the procession from the church where the holy flint is housed all year, which is south of the Arno. They march in a parade in Renaissance costume through the streets with all the flag throwers doing their thing. It’s a fantastic show. Lots of Renaissance music, etc. The last thing to be towed into the Piazze del Duomo (Right in front of the Duomo) is a giant, giant, giant elaborate cart. My friend and I got there several hours in advance, so we had front row seats...note...there are no: stand here at your own risk signs. We were unawares of what was about to happen. we should've had some idea with all the firemen present at this holy event.

This cart is loaded with fireworks. loaded. The bishop goes around and blesses it with holy water and after much, much, much preparation, from a wire that connects the cart to the inside of the Duomo a paper pigeon is lit with the holy flint and sent shooting down this wire and into the Cart, which starts slowly to crackle...sizzle...some slow popping noises...and then WAR.

or at least what war must sound like. For 20 minutes, Flames spurt out of this cart in various forms. Green swirling balls of fire were shot into the crowd. I had beads of ash in my teeth and hair. at one point the whole thing shoots out clouds and clouds and clouds of red thick smoke, to the point where you can't open your eyes. the grand finale is a fire fountain..yes, a fire. fountain. and somehow...somehow this wooden cart is only slightly singed by the time the machine gun fire show has ceased. Holy flint, I guess.

This past weekend my High Renaissance class took their last trip together to Venice. This turned out to be the greatest adventure of my trip thus far...


We spent the Friday morning and afternoon exploring churches and the Academia with my class. I found out that Visa all over Europe had shut down, only after a frantic call to my mother, thinking someone had broken into my account. But..all was well. it was fixed by the afternoon. that night we had italian fast food (kebabs) and spent the evening "Quartet Hopping" in San Marco square. Their were 4 different string quartets and jazz bands alternating every 2 songs. so we went from stand to stand, dancing and having a fantastical time listening to music on a beautiful Venician night. Our class has finally become this big wonderful group of friends and it was so much fun being with the whole gang... sadly, it took us this long to become a "gang" and now its almost time to leave. But we made the last trip worth it...

The next day we were out of class by 1, and so some of us decided to take a lovely stroll through town...feed the pigeons, and see what the day brought us. We were near the Rialto Bridge when we sat on a dock to watch the gondolas go by. My friend decided that we should stick our thumbs out to the gondolas...we did and they'd laugh, and keep going on their way with their paying customers. then while one girl was taking a picture of us fake "hitch-hiking" on the grand canal, an adorable little old man in his boat pulled over and asked where we wanted to go. We didn't know if he was serious or not, but he said he'd take us to the station or wherever we needed to go...so...we weighed our options...6 of us, one of him...we're good. So we jumped in.

His boat was so cute with a huge quilt on the front. he let us drive, took us on a tour of the grand canal, through the tiny canals, back to our hotel where he waited for us to get our luggage and bought us a pastry, then he took us out to the fishing areas where there are areas where its so shallow that fishermen are able to walk in the middle of the lagoon...literally looks like they are walking on water. he took us to where they make gondolas and we saw his friend who fixes boats. he then tooks us through the jewish ghetto and over to Casa Nova's house. He said he's retired now cause he had heart surgery, so sometimes he takes families and charges them, but we were so nice (aka pretty young girls) that he'd take us anywhere for free. So we (I) sang to him in Italian as a gift, and spent 2 hours on an outstanding tour, by a little old man who's family has lived in Venice for many, many, many generations. His dialect was a little hard to understand at times, but he spoke really clearly, and his tour guiding skills were superb. After the trip, he took us to the station and waved goodbye...nicest little man. He just wanted to share how much he loves his island with us. He was also showing off that he had 6 beautiful girls in his boat, and all the gondaleers were shaking their hands and inquiring as to where he found us, and the police men kept shouting out "lucky guy!", and let him get away with allowing unlicenced girls drive his boat through the lagoon.

The adventure didn't end at the train station, though. We decided to take the long cheap train back, which required jumping on any train leaving from the first station to catch a train leaving from Mestre, the station on the mainland. we thought we could make the train leaving at that moment, but as soon as I...and only I...jumped on, the door closed. and all the other girls were still on the platform chasing the train... I was without a ticket for this train, mind you.

luckily they never check and I got off safely at Mestre station where I had to wait in front the train we were late for, hoping the rest of my group followed soon behind. again, about 2 minutes before this train was meant to leave I heard them running up to the platform, and we were reunited once again, for our very long, and very interesting ride home. we had increased our number to 7, and although only 6 fit in each compartment, we squeezed in. When the ticket guy came in we were taking pictures, so he squeezed in too and got in on the picture taking fun. It was really awkward and were weren’t quite sure how to handle him... while I was getting my ticket out, he started eating my cookies out of my bag and said in English "mmm. good!" Laura had lost her ticket...or couldn't find it and was freaking out that he’d fine her for riding without a ticket, but he just said "ok. that’s fine! bye-bye!"
woah!
I suppose sometimes it pays to be a girl... Every now and then you have to whip out those womanly charms and you can get away all kinds of things.

So, that concludes my life up until this morning. I'm trying to now figure out how to best spend my last 2 weeks in Italy, and it doesn't seem like studying is going to do it. we'll see what happens...

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