Is It Always a Beach Day?

It's been clear skies and perfect weather every day since I arrived; not a drop of rain has fallen, and today my host family (the Martinis) took me along with them on their third trip to the beach this week. Somehow I had thought my first dip in the warm Mediterranean waters on couldn't possibly live up to expectations...

Before getting to Italy, I was fully prepared to experience the typical "honeymoon" part of my semester, which we've been warned turns to homesickness and discomfort while the reality of being in a completely different culture with a whole new set of people begins to set in, and then to look forward to an upswing as our language skills improve, we get over the culture shock, and start to dread the end of our stays.

I guess I'm just still waiting for the honeymoon to end. But I keep getting the sneaking suspicion that my "healthy" dose of cynicism may be out of order.

I've seen three weddings in the past week, eaten more gelato than I will ever admit, and walked one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever been on (and can now attest that while European tradition of topless women may be waning, but man-speedos are still going strong). And even if the spotless weather had been interrupted with some rain, that just means the parched sunflower fields would have perked up a bit, and augmented the palatte of olive groves and vineyards which borders allllll the highways here.

A lot of study-abroad lit and travel writing warns that visitors often have a fairy-tale image of the places they travel to, especially Italy, and this image quickly unravels when confronted by everyday life. And so when I saw the medieval streets of Siena, and my first hazy golden pink Tuscan sunset, I assumed that something this picturesque couldn't possibly have a living, breathing, vibrant and modern culture too. What I'm trying to understand is how tourist-magnet events like the annual Palio horse race in Siena can be more than just a tourist-magnet, but actually a sincere expression of the fierce competition between the different neighborhood "contradas" which compete for the glory of winning. Now that I've walked through their wild, ear splitting weeklong parties and been encircled by late night drumming parades of proud contrada members, I'm realizing this isn't just a quaint little reenactment of an important historical tradition, but a tradition that's still got a LOT of steam.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I expected Siena and Italy in general to be completely different from what I expected...andwas surprised that my expectations of having my expectations be wrong were right anyways. Confusing enough for ya? Whatevs, I'm just going with the flow and having a good time, and replacing whatever expectations I might have with actual experiences.

I'll try to post the video clip I took of two of my friends host parents singing in a traditional Italian folk concert, and some more pictures once I find my usb cord...