Rules of the [Italian] Road

1. Pedestrians are to be regarded as pigeons; thus, they are totally expendable.
2. If cars are the kings of the road, vespas are the renegade princes with superiority complexes.
3. While cars generally remain on their assigned side of a two-way road, it is not uncommon to see them parked facing one another on the side of a street.
4. The word 'bus' is code for 'death trap.'
5. Crosswalks exist only in the imaginations of Japanese and American tourists.
6. Green means go; red means hesitate before going.
7. If the bus driver realizes he missed a turn, while midway through an intersection, it is perfectly acceptible to reverse through the intersection and force cross-traffic to wait.
8. The buses are never too full.

Confessions of a Gelatoholic

I have a love/hate relationship with Italia, meaning that it makes me seething just about every day and nearly every however; however, the same country also has the ability to make me blissfully happy in a matter of minutes. At least, it proves that I have seen the real Italia, not the glittering, prepackaged tourist version.

Italian buses may be the epitome of public transportation hell, but the trains, which can carry you to Pisa, Sienna, or a number of beaches in just over an hour make up for it. I haven't been to Pisa, yet, but Sienna was wonderful. The centre of the city is closed off to cars and the city offers a smaller, more peaceful, medieval version of Firenze. We spent the day checking out churches and walking around. (Because that is virtually all there is to do here). However, they have a fantastic piazza around which there is a biannual horse race.

Italian parks make up for the frustrating streets. There is a wonderful one, which is very close to our school that we have eaten lunch in.
My host mother Anna doesn't speak any English. I kept waiting for the English to come but, alas, no. It is frustrating but gives me motivation to pay attention in Italian class. When the language barrier is too much, though, Heidi and I just look at one another and laugh and sometimes Anna will dig out her weathered Italian/English dictionary. The hardest part, though, is eating breakfast when our host-mom is home. The kitchen will be obscenely bright, the Italian version of talk radio will be berating Berlusconi, and Anna will be blabbering on and on expecting us to understand, when it's impossible for me to comprehend Italian before lunch. Heidi and I rate the quality of dinner conversations by the number of times we use the past tense. (extra points if you conjugate it with essere)

It, in fact, takes two Italians to change a light bulb. We met Anna's ex-husband (who we thought lived in Padua) when he came over to change the light bulb in the kitchen. Plus, the event involved both people on chairs trying to figure out the inner workings of the lamp. Now the new bulb gives of an unfriendly florescent glow.

There are too many mysteries within my house for me to comprehend. Again, we just nod and smile. Anna makes up for the confusion by being ridiculously quirky. She will find the humor of certain commercials distasteful and then crack up at the Italian version of candid camera. Plus, she is an opinionated left-wing supporter who is one of the few Italians to realize Berlusconi’s incompetence. (He is their version of George Bush) Lastly, she teaches young children and has more books than I can count, one of which is a huge volume of Emily Dickinson. (English on one page, Italian on the opposite)

Gelato is a wonderful creation. I believe it is one of the only things that keeps me sane in this twilight zone. My favorite is fondente con fragola. (dark chocolate with strawberry) mmm.