Diario Fotografico

For the photography class I’m taking, we’re keeping a semester-long photo-per-day “diary”. Every Tuesday we share and critique each others pictures…fun stuff. I’ve been failing in the picture-posting department thus far, so hopefully each Tuesday I’ll have at least seven pics for y’all to enjoy!

“What you want is to be a poet. You articulate sounds that are still formless, you invent what looks like a possible route. And yet the fundamentals are already there: you translate an attitude and rationalize an intuition, using first of all what is specific to photography. There is the refusal of style and the refusal of sentimentalism, there is the desire for clarity and there is the measuring of the distance that separates me from what I see. There is also the will to be like a servant of the image, of its rigorous demands: to take the camera where it needs to be and to make an image that is subservient neither to the real nor to an intention – for the intention of the moment will always fall short of what you’re really looking for. You have to record as many details as possible and achieve an order, without taking away the complexity of the real. To voice the real and at the same time to create an image that is a world in itself, with its own coherence, its autonomy and sovereignty; an image that thinks.”

At this point, I’m just trying to bear in mind the part about always falling short of what you’re really looking for. But it’s a nice thought overall, if a tad overwhelming…anyways. Enjoy!

Monday 28/9

7Monday, originally uploaded by abbymrry.

At school, Kelly and Megan. Look how bright that Tuscan afternoon sunlight is! And I love the expressions on their faces (they're not quite in agreement with me on that one)

Sunday 27/9

6Sunday, originally uploaded by abbymrry.

Lazy Sunday. Macchia my host-dog is taking in the sun on the porch.

Saturday 26/9

5Saturday, originally uploaded by abbymrry.

Went for a long walk on Saturday and found a great garden.

Friday 25/9

4Friday, originally uploaded by abbymrry.

My bedroom. I was feeling super sleepy at 2 in the afternoon (class finishes at 11 on Fridays), and the sun decided it was a good time to spotlight my running shoes...but I still went for the nap

Thursday 9/24

Thursday, originally uploaded by abbymrry.

The gelato I bought myself to celebrate successfully withdrawing money from my account for the first time, and paying my fees for classes.

What flavors, you wonder?
Extra Fondente (extra dark chocolate), Meringuata (basically whipped cream), and Nocciola (hazelnut)

Wednesday 9/23

Wednesday, originally uploaded by abbymrry.

Looking over the wall of the Fortress down onto the weekly market

Tuesday 9/22

Tuesday, originally uploaded by abbymrry.

Italians go to school on Saturday?!

Well, I was grateful to not be on the normal Italian school schedule today. My host sister Olga was in school today (seriously! how terrible!), but I got to enjoy a nice weekend day.

Today was a very relaxing Saturday after my first full week of classes. I spent the morning walking around the neighborhood, just exploring. I found some great spots, including a "private" hotel garden which I just wandered into. It had a really sweet tunnel of grapevines about 50 yards long. I spent almost two hours just trying out new roads and shortcuts. Since it's so hilly here, there's a network of pedestrian-only stairs and ramps connecting the roads which wind up and down the hills. I had fun people-watching; at the local stadium a group of men in their fifties put on quite a show in full spandex, and I spotted a hilariously obvious tourist couple wearing matching hats and fanny packs.

I've also been really surprised by the attitude of pedestrians here- even though Italians in every other aspect of life seem to have very little regard for following rules and regulations, crosswalks are another story. People almost never jaywalk here, which is really strange to me, since I'm used to Massachusetts where pedestrians belligerently assert their right-of-way. I've had to fight very hard against the urge to step out into the street without a little green man giving me the go-ahead, but even in the rush of the morning commute, pedestrians will wait patientlyat the corner, even if there's not a car coming. And if they're reallllllly in a hurry, and decide to go for it, they're much more likely to scurry across with a sheepish face. In the US, it's pretty common for someone to step out in front of oncoming traffic, and glare at the driver as is challenging them to lean on the horn. It's a point of pride; any quickening of pace undermines the assertion that the jay-walker has every right to bring traffic to a halt. Here, I literally saw a man with a cane break into a limping jog AND doff his hat apologetically.

Moving on.

In the afternoon, my host family left for an overnight excursion to visit family, so I'm fending for myself. It's nice though; just having a space to relax and watch a movie with some friends feels pretty novel. Earlier, I went into the city with Angela who had to practice sketching for her art class. I am certainly not an artist, but it felt very appropriate to sit out in the nice weather and try my hand at it.

OKkkkk well that's it for now.

Honey, Antiques, and 3 Euro Vino

**WARNING**
This post is dangerously long! When I started it like half an hour ago I said "I've been putting off posting since recapping everything that's been going on here is a bit daunting, but I'll try to give a quick sum up of the past week"

It is not quick. Please bear with me.

Last weekend I met up with my friend Erikka from Amherst, who's studying in Florence, and she came with me and some other Siena Schoolers to Montalcino. Montalcino is a beautiful tiny little town south of Siena known for it's fabulous Brunello wine, but we went for the annual Honey Festival. There was samples of a zillion kinds of delicious honey and various other products- honey beer! honey grappa! peanut flavored honey! honey candy! Sadly the bus schedule was not cooperating and we had to rush to catch a bus home after less than 2 hours. But it's definitely good to have an event to attend when you're doing a day trip to such a tiny town; without the Honey Festival we might not have schlepped out to Montalcino.

This weekend was a bit stressful trying to figure out what to do. For most of us, the weekends can be a little awkward if we don't make plans to travel somewhere, since our host families sort of expect us to be out an about, and they make their own plans for the weekend which don't necessarily include us (this Saturday Livio and Olga were participating in an all-day archery competition/picnic). Some pals and I had wanted to go to Bologna but that didn't work out, and so we found ourselves casting about blindly for another day-trip destination as of Friday afternoon. We finally settled on Lucca: a lot of people combine Lucca with nearby Pisa, but the word on the street is that there's not much else to reccommend Pisa besides the leaning tower and so we decided to skip it altogether. Lucca was great; there was an enormous antiques festival going on which we ambled through for most of the morning. After an ecstasy-inducing lunch (we got 4 types of pasta and taste-tested everyone's choices) we walked the city walls, which were completely reconstructed in the 17th century (or something like that). Lucca is filled with people riding bikes, and a wonderful biking/walking path runs along the walls. We wanted to rent bikes but that didn't happen. We did however buy a loaf of the local specialty, buccellato, a sort of anise-raison flavored bun/bread hybrid. We split it uncerimoniously on the train ride back to Siena, the four of us taking turns ripping hunks off with our hands.

This was my first European train experience without my mother's guidance, and it felt great to buy tickets and catch 3 trains each way successfully. We also met a chill Polish girl who's an Erasmus student in Siena, and she was totally hating on the Italian party scene! She told us we should visit her hometown Krakow, where they have real parties. She said, "When I got out here, it's terrible! The clubs close at like 3! At home you go out and can come home at 7, 8 in the morning...I don't know why it's so bad here." Needless to say, we thought this was pretty funny...as Americans, we're usually out a lot earlier that the Italians. Some of my friends get home earlier than their Italian host parents on the weekends! Though it's true that Siena is not really know for it's party culture, I've been really enjoying the more relaxed atmosphere here.

One of the most relaxing and enjoyable moments this week, and something that I really just can't do at home, was when Angela and I decompressed with a bottle of 3 euro wine (don't turn your nose up, it was really good) in the Fortress after finishing our Italian "final exam" on Friday. It was around 5 o'clock and still sunny, and the view from the Fortess of the city is incredible (I'll post a picture soon). We had to fight for bench space with the hordes of Italian couples who drape themselves over the surfaces of all picturesque places, but we snagged a good spot. We complained about our professor, and laughed over the weird things we'd learned in the course of the past 3 weeks. The Italian word for blush (as in the make-up) is "il fard," a word which cannot be said out loud with a straight face. Italians also have a special word for the act of wiping the your plate with your bread; it's called "fare la scarpetta". This has always been my favorite part of meals, I had no idea it was a verb unto itself.

Tomorrow is our first day of "real" classes, and I'm looking forward to it immensely. These past three weeks have been kind of a blur; there've been so many new experiences that I think I woke up practically everyday not knowing what to expect, or expecting to be surprised with something deliciously new and Italian. Now, I'm more used to my host family, the city, the other students, and the culture, and I'm ready to get a more predictable schedule. This is what I'm taking:
-Italian/Culture of Italy (a continuation of what we've been doing the past 3 weeks)
-Photography (I'm realllllly excited for this; haven't done manual photo since high school, but we'll also be working with our digital cameras, so maybe I'll have some good stuff to post eventually!)
-Sociology of Linguistics (I've always wanted to take soc, and wasn't expecting to take it here, but things just worked out...)
-Art History-Iconography (ok, just to give you an idea, here are some key phrases from the syllabus: "the political use of art and propaganda", "social iconography...the symbolism of Food and Feasting, Music and Medicine...love and eroticism", "cryptic subjects in art...da Vinci's Nature symbolism...secret messages of Astrology, magic, hermetism, Alchemy and Kabbalah...")
-and finally, Creative Writing.

OK well I think I've sucessfully overwhelmed anyone who made it to the end of this post with way way way too much information...if you've got a confused/blank expression on your face like I do during much of family dinners, I'm not surprised. When Andreas noticed this particular expression on my own face, he always inquires in broken English,

"You have problem?! What your problem is?!?? Tutto'OK?!? OK?! Tutto'OK?!?!?!?"
to which the proper response appears to be rapid head nodding and repitition of "Si, sisi, si! Tutto'OK! OK! No problem! Tutto'OK!"

So, I hope everyone is tutto'ok back home, all is tutto'ok here...and Olga is asking for help with her English homework.

Setting My Place at the Family Table

Today Annalisa asked me to set the table. Let me tell you why this is important:

Living with a host family means sharing intimate space with a unit of people who talk a lot, fight sometimes, have loud phone conversations, hog the bathroom, watch their favorite TV shows on high volume, take trips together, have friends over, and everything else. Living with them means constantly walking a line between inserting yourself into parts of their life where there didn't used to be a 20-year-old American girl before. And sometimes it's awkward.

It's safe to assume that the Martinis don't usually spend a lot of time fussing over their spot at the beach, worried that a certain palid someone will fry in the Italian sun. And most of the year, 10 year old Olga has her own room, and Mom and kids don't all share a bathroom to politely privatize their second one for a houseguest who drinks more milk than all of them combined and takes longer-than-average showers.

As much as I'm part of the Martini household, being such a close observer of their lives reminds me constantly that I'm not actually a part of their family. When Olga and Livio come home, Annalisa hugs them both, slowing kisses them each on the forehead, then her hands on their shoulders and asks them about their day. It's adorable and endearing, but also reminds how far I am from my own family. Annalisa scolds Livio for sleeping too late and berates Olga leaving clothes and shoes strewn across the floor of the room they're now sharing, but would never comment on the state of my room or on my sleeping habits. When she warns Olga to stop taking bread because she'll get fat, she pushes bread-and pasta-and meat!-and cheese!!! towards me with an encouraging smile.

Tonight I sat at the dinner table in the kitchen as Annalisa prepared dinner and chatted with a friend who had come over. I felt awkward, holding my book and alternately trying to listen to their conversation and look like I didn't care if I had no idea what was going on. I'm always doing this; trying to be a part of their family life without disrupting it. So when Annalisa looked up from her slicing and dicing, halted her rapid conversation and spoke a slow sentence simply telling- not asking- me to set the table...well, I was pretty delighted. It means having a reason to be in the kitchen with her and her friend and her family, it means doing something useful instead of just adding another place setting and another set of laundry to her household duties.

I counted the number of places correctly: one for Uncle Andreas at the foot of the table, regardless of whether he's present at the time of dinner or not. One for Annalisa's friend who said her name too fast for me to catch, and one for Annalisa beside her. Livio at the head of the table. And, as usualy, my spot is next to Olga.

Auld Lang Siena

Here's a clip of a traditional Italian music concert in Palazzo Communale in the Piazza del Campo. Some of my friends' host parents sang in it!

And I just want to give a shout out to my mom--she and I once had a heated argument about whether or not singing was on the decline in America, and I suppose possibly maybe there is a slight chance her argument may have been at least partially valid... She was feeling nostalgic about Pete Seeger's 70-somethingth birthday concert and the idea that Americans don't sing together anymore, and I was staunchly arguing for the sake of argument that to the contrary, my friends and I quite enjoyed singing selections from America's Top 40 and that just because the songs have changed doesn't mean the practice has waned. But watching this concert in the Palazzo Communale sort of overpowered my argument...if Americans put together a concert of "traditional" "folk" songs, would anything on the list still be recognized today? Towards the end of the Siennese concert, the whole audience was singing along with all the songs, and I noticed both young and old people knew the words. I'm not sure I can think of a song that both my grandparents and I could sing all the words to.

Anyways.

Here are a couple pics of My Life in Italy:
Agrituristica Gabbiano, where we did our orientation
The tower of the Palazzo Communale on the Campo (and Angela's eye in the corner)
The view from the wall of San Gimignano, a city about an hour away from Siena
What we really came to San Gimignano for...the world famous gelateria! This is the line outside (and I'm proud to say we went through twice).
And finally, a glorious self-portrait at the beach! Look how un-sunburned I am!
(bathing suit courtesy of Siobhan Murray)

OK enough for tonight!!

A domani!

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...

Una settimana under my belt

OK.

It's been one week, and I'm starting to settle down a bit, but we've been so busy that I really haven't had a chance to process anything. We arrived last Thursday in Rome, drove 3 hours to Assisi to bond and get oriented at an "agrituristica" surrounded by vineyards, then met our families on Saturday evening outside of Siena. My family took me to Arezzo on Sunday, and then I started my 5 hours/day of intensive Italian and culture study on Monday. But I've identified a few trends and aspects of life in Europe, in Italy, in Siena, and even just my host family that I'll be keeping tabs on while I'm here. So, here's what I'll be paying attention to:

• THE FOOD. Eating habits, attitudes about health and the body, all that stuff. So far, everything in Europe is smaller, fresher, and less processed. The traditional diet is extremely carb-y (think pasta TWICE a day, plus bread, plus cheese), but luckily my whole life has conditioned me to be happiest with this kind of diet (thanks Mom!!). I could go on for ages about the food...oh, and there's gelato...
• Living in a Medieval City. It's nothing like living anywhere in the US.
• Rules of the Road. I really thought I was going to puke when my host mom drove the fam out to Arezzo...
• and of course, my HOST FAMILY. They are an endless source of information and intrigue; we're still getting to know each other but it's been going well. Once I can speak more Italian I think it will be even better!
• **Fashion** Man-purses and super skinny jeans? I'm lovin it (and imagining any male from home rocking the same styles)
• and, ever the American Studies major (and feeling guilty about not getting a single credit towards it), I've been tuning in to race relations here in Siena...just from comments made by my host family, graffiti I've seen in the city, and headlines in the paper it looks like a vibrant issue here! Hooray...?

That's it for now! I'm taking advantage of a break at school- everyone just went to the Italian post office to apply for Sienese permits of stay; this is yet another hurdle I've been able to bypass with my Irish passport.