Italians are violent sports enthusiasts.

A week or two ago, Huaxia, Robert, and I stood in line for about 30 minutes (surprisingly this was a super short wait) to buy tickets to the rivalry soccer game of Roma vs. Lazio. I have always heard that these games can be intense, but little did I know that my life would be threatened at the game.

Geared in my burgundy and orange Roma t-shirt, the three of us and two undergrads ventured over to the Stadio Olimpico on Sunday night to experience the intensity of Italian calcio firsthand. When we first got off the bus, we were surprised to see no one, I mean no one, outside the stadium. It was like a ghost town with evidence of lots of heavy drinking left behind (including plastic shot bottles of espresso, which I found to be hilarious). We quickly realized that Italians must do their pregaming well before the actual game because they were all seated at the least 30 minutes before kickoff, when we arrived. I was impressed...until we got to our seats...or what we thought were our seats. Two men were sitting in two of our three seats. After showing him that we had tickets for those seats, he started explaining himself to me in Italian, which I of course did not understand a lick of until the man behind us translated. "He doesn't want to move because he has sat in these seats all season." I've never seen such superstition before, but because Roma is number one, the man did not want to chance his luck by moving seats. After looking around, seeing no other seats, being offered the lap of the superstitious man, and feeling a little scared of these fanatics, Robert, Huaxia, and I crammed our butts into two seats. Good thing there were no arm rests and Huaxia is super tiny. We managed fine the first half, but it wasn't comfortable, so at halftime Huaxia started standing/sitting in the aisle, and then Roma scored two beautiful goals. When she decided to move back and sit with us, the man sitting next to me insisted she stay where she was when they scored, and another couple behind us wanted her next to them because they now thought she was their little good luck charm. A stretch to say the least...but whatever works for them. So, Huaxia ended up standing in the aisle the rest of the game to appease all these crazy people. This was just one of the wild things we experienced at the game.

(This guy is the one that sat behind me that was our English translator. He shouted “Oh, Mamma Mia!” the whole game. Doesn’t get much more Italian than that…)

I am not kidding when I say that these people are Cra-Z. We noticed a whole section of empty seats (we're talking like 1,000 seats) between the Lazio and Roma sections that were guarded on both edges by heavily geared and armed policemen. They were like the freakin swat team or something. Just before the game started, a group of fans started charging the section from both sides and immediately started beating/punching/kicking/etc. each other. The cops, knowing this was about to happen, as it does at every one of these rivalry games, took out their clubs and started decking all these fans and pushing them back into their respective sections. Our translator behind us explained to me that those people buy those tickets just to fight and have no intention of being able to watch the game because they get kicked out immediately. So, yeah, no one sat in those seats the rest of the game.

Throughout this riot, huge bottle rockets, colored smoke-bombs (in the team's respective color: red or blue), and canons were fired off making me worry about not only dying from blunt force, but now pyromaniacs. There were firefighters surrounding the track around the field because people threw fireworks down onto the field, and they had to continuously spray water all over the track to keep it from catching on fire. Seriously...I am not even being dramatic, contrary to my usual story telling.

(Here you can see the glass wall they put up to keep crazy fans from spilling over into the opponent's territory. Look how well it works...)

When Roma finally scored, and then again shortly after, the man in our seats started jumping up, grabbed my head and my glasses and started shaking it. This was actually pretty funny, but I thought the man broke my glasses for a second because he shook my head so hard. It was ridiculous. However, we're friends now, and he wants me to come back to next week's game and sit in the same spot because he thinks I'm good luck. That's a first.

One of the strangest things that happened was as we were walking out of the stadium with all the other Roma fans, a huge swarm of Lazio fans dressed in dark clothes and some wearing black masks started running into the Roma section. All the Roma fans, knowing what the heck was going on started running out of the area quickly. Again, curious, but scared, we all took off running too.

The rest of the night (until at least 2 am), Roma fans drove around the city on their Vespas and Smart Cars honking the horn and chanting the Roma fight songs. It was so cool to see such strong spirit in a team.

The whole night, although scary, was totally awesome and exhilarating. I'm glad I went, and I would do it again, but I think I'll stick to American sports if I have the choice.

The next day, my friend, Jason (you're welcome for the shout out, man) sent me this article.

"ROME (AP) -- Seven fans have been injured, some suffering knife wounds, in clashes between supporters of rival Rome clubs Lazio and AS Roma, news reports said Monday.

Rome-based daily La Repubblica and other reports said three people were stabbed, and one was hospitalized in a serious condition with a throat wound. The reports said four people have been arrested.

Roma beat Lazio 2-1 on Sunday to reclaim the Serie A lead.

Police had to intervene inside the Stadio Olimpico before the match as fans threw firecrackers at each other. Police in riot gear formed a barrier to prevent the supporters from coming into contact with one another at the stadium.

The start of the match was brought forward by two hours due to security concerns.

After the match, fans hurled bottles and stones at each other, some setting trash bins on fire, reports said.

Police in the Italian capital refused to comment pending a press conference later.

When the clubs met in December, the game was suspended for nearly 10 minutes during the first half due to firecrackers exploding in the stands.

In 2004, the derby was stopped three minutes into the second half when a false rumor spread through the stadium that police had killed a boy outside the stadium, sparking riots."

After reading this, I think I’m happy to be alive. GOOOO ROMA!

My Bologna has a first name...

A couple items worth noting:

1. I promise I change my clothes each day, contrary to what my pictures seem to show. My green North Face jacket has gotten more action than I ever hoped it would while living in “sunny” Italy. I’ve actually gotten to the point where I take off the jacket before taking a picture so when I look back on these pictures, it doesn’t look like I wore the same thing for four months straight.

2. My laptop keyboard has been broken for the last month, so if you think I’ve been ignoring your emails, g-chats, etc. I promise it’s not only you. I finally got it fixed after having an Italian Dell tech guy completely replace the keyboard. Word of wisdom for any of you future Dell buyers: buy the extended warranty and extra service plan. I had a next-day service agreement that managed to have the thing fixed in less than 24 hours of submitting the service request. Nice.

After an all too short break from living out of a suitcase, I packed up again and headed out to see the marvels of northern Italy. Per our usual spontaneous method of traveling with our studio professor, we departed early with no clue what cities we would see that day before arriving in Bologna for the night. Naturally, the Oscar Meyer wiener song went through my head every time someone mentioned Bologna. The next thought was “Mmm. Bologna sandwiches: white bread, mayonnaise, and processed meat. Yum.” No really, I like bologna sandwiches…mostly for the mayonnaise.

We arrived in Arezzo first, stopping to see the steeply sloped piazza. Typically, you don’t see many sloping public spaces, but this one was particularly interesting and successful. It had this really cool arcaded loggia on one side of the square which provided really neat outdoor seating for the cafes and restaurants in the building.

Next, we made a quick stop in Poppi where Robert and I made lots of Seinfeld jokes about Poppi: “Poppi was a little sloppy” and “It was the POPPI seeds!” Even though we don’t have TBS to watch the same episodes over and over again here, Seinfeld still lives within us…

We made a few short stops in Stia and Ferrara where we fought the rain and I stayed under cover as much as possible, which obviously limits how much one can learn about a city when the hood of your jacket might as well be blinders like they put on horses or the cones they put on dogs. Robert has had the brilliant idea of wearing an umbrella hat since the first rain we saw in Rome. I am not sure if I would be seen with him walking around sportin’ an umbrella hat. Oh, who am I to judge? I should be glad he still walks around with me and my giant out-of-control (double O-C, as I like to say) hair, since I haven’t managed to find anything remotely close to my normal hair products. You know this hair requires hair products…a lot of ‘em…and the right ones. Oh, here’s an idea…I should wear an umbrella hat to cover up this fro! But, I digress…

We finally made it to Bologna where we walked under the amazing sidewalk loggias for the extent of the city. I don’t quite understand how a city with ancient origins adopts a “code” that says something like “all buildings shall encroach into the sidewalk and provide a covered walkway.” Regardless, it was a novel idea that I would have appreciated more had it actually been raining there, like it did the majority of our trip.

The following day we drove toward Venice and stopped to see one of Palladio’s villas, Malcontenta, which was apparently just long enough of a stop to make us miss the ferry over to Venice. This was the first of many frustrating moments I had in Venice. After driving across the causeway (a much less glamorous way of approaching the islands), we parked the van and drug our suitcases down to the dock of the water taxi. This is when I realized I would never be able afford anything in Venice. A one way trip on the only public transportation system was 6.50 euro…so a little less than $10 per person! After an all too heated debate with our professor over whether or not we should drag our rolling suitcases clear across Venice to avoid this rip-off, my lazy butt and the rest of my class decided it was indeed worth the money to not have to lug our luggage through a city we didn’t know: one that does not have streets for cars (therefore no vehicle-taxis) and one that had an arched bridge over a canal about every 100 feet. I was not interested in fighting the swarms of people in the tiny winding streets with my giant packed-for-11-days suitcase. My professor, however, was. He left us. He left us with our Italian driver whom we cannot communicate with at all. Our driver had to navigate our way through the city, and this city is one of the hardest places to figure out that I’ve ever visited. Maybe I was being a little too petulant (like my sister J ), but I thought this was a little ridiculous. The rest of Venice was beautiful, interesting, and EXPENSIVE! I was dying for a coke one day, but all I could find were cans for no less than 2 euro. Yep, a can of coke in Venice costs $3+. A can of coke in the land of coke, where I come from, cost maybe 50 cents. Ahh Atlanta…I miss you for your sweet, delicious coke products [insert shout out to Mayson here].

I bought a pedometer several weeks ago because I was so interested in how far I’ve been walking. Well, I racked up the most steps yet in Venice…over 23,000 in one day. They say (my Mom would say, “who’s they” here) that we all need about 10,000 each day to be healthy. Although I haven’t done the exact calculations, I think I probably average about 15,000 each day. I think I’m doing ok. Factor in the large amounts of cheese, pasta, and wine I consume, and maybe I need to pick up the pace.

I mention the pedometer because when we left the hotel in Venice to make our way back to the parked van completely across the city, we lost the battle with our professor to take the water taxi. We had to walk…with our luggage after days of walking record amounts. Let me paint a picture for you of this scene.

Professor: “It’s an amaaaazing walk. It’s not that far.” (amaaaazing is his favorite word)

Students: “Aren’t there several bridges (arching bridges…with steps) that we will have to climb with all our stuff?”

Professor: “Yeah, but there’s only about 2, 3, 4, or 5.” (He literally counted like that.)

Students: “Urgh.”

I took note of the amount of steps that were current on my pedometer. Almost 5,000 steps, 1.25 hours, and 11 bridges later we arrived at the van. THIS is when I was dying for a cold coke…or even better, a col’ beer. When we got back to Rome, I googlemapped the route we took. Do you wanna know how far I drug a 35 lb. suitcase through Venice fighting crowds and exhaustion? 1.8 miles! I was beat. Word of advice: cough up the 6.50 euro and take the boat. It will make your stay in Venice much more pleasant, I bet. I sound like a brat complaining about Venice, but by the time we made it back to the car, JiYeon and I, the self-proclaimed new-urbanists, were screaming, “Pave over the canals! Bring in the semis! Bring in the SUV’s! We want cars!!!”

After Venice we drove to Padua, and after arriving late, we had dinner and took a quick night walk before we nearly froze to death. This was a common theme for this whole trip. There are so many things I would have liked to have sketched in some of these fantastic cities, but because of the cold, I often traded a sketch for a hot cappuccino. So, by the end of the day, I was shaking from both the cold and the caffeine.

We left Padua early the next morning for Vicenza, home of many amazing Palladian villas, palazzos, and public buildings. Too bad our professor didn’t plan very well, and we went to Vicenza the only day of the week when most of these awesome buildings that I’ve studied since going to architecture school were not open [bitterness]. Again, this was a moment of frustration because it seemed ridiculous to go to a city to not be able to enter any of the buildings. Oh well…at least the exteriors and public spaces were amazing enough to keep me occupied and amused all afternoon. The main piazza has an incredible basilica by Palladio in which he wrapped a classical portico around existing medieval fabric buildings to make one large unified building. At least I could see that one…

Next we went to Verona…Romeo, oh Romeo…where for art thou Romeo? Yes, Verona is the home to the Montagues and Capulets. Just outside of the fictional “Juliette balcony” is an incredible outdoor market where I, again, stood in until near frostbite. I got the idea here to “shop” to warm up so I don’t always have to buy a coffee in order to, in a sense, buy their heating. So, I started to pretend to shop in stores I couldn’t afford (which is just about everything these days) in order to thaw. I am, however, up to date on the latest Lacoste trends. Ha.

While I was thawing out in Lacoste, all of middle Italy was getting snow dumped on it…and guess where we were driving after we left Verona that afternoon…straight into the snow. This weather caused us to skip Mantua and sent us straight to Lucca where we took another cold night walk before ducking in a local-flavor restaurant for dinner. Did I say “flavor” to describe Tuscan food? Yes, I did. The food in Tuscany is wonderful…with the exception of one thing: the bread. For some reason, Tuscans don’t use salt in their bread. I mean…what’s the point? This led me to search for the butter on the table to no avail. Oh well…if their bread is the only bad thing they do, then so be it.

We stopped by Pisa to take the obligatory “Lean on the Tower” picture and walk around the church, baptistery, mausoleum, and tower. That was about it. If you ever go to Pisa, don’t expect much more than that. It’s great and all, but the rest of Pisa is, well…boring.

Florence, although cold and rainy (Duh. That description has become too repetitive, right?), lived up to the reputation of Tuscan-food as well and was anything but bland (except, of course, the bread). We ate dinner at a restaurant near the leather market called MammaMia that I swear served the best ravioli I’ve ever had…and I’ve had my fair share of ravioli. In my childhood house Chef Boyardee was a staple…we loved that stuff. But, wow. This tomato and cream sauce must have had crack in it or something. It was that good, and it has me wanting to go back to Florence just for some more saucy sauce. As I mentioned, the leather market in Florence is amazing. Although I didn’t buy anything except a pair of warm gloves (gotta prepare for next winter in South Bend, too), I wanted to buy about 5 handbags. I’ve been told it really is authentic leather. If it’s not, I was easily fooled. If you ever make it to the Florence leather market be sure to bargain with them. They love it, and most of the time (I hear) you can knock off a pretty penny, or euro, in this case.

The rest of Florence was amazing. The Florence Cathedral with the famous Brunelleschi dome was more incredible in person than I could imagine. It’s mass, colors, and geometric ornamentation were mind boggling. I still don’t understand how a dome can possibly be that huge and that self-supporting…and that old. Built in the first half of the 15^th century, the dome was incredibly inventive for its time. Today, visitors can climb all the way to the top through the double shell. We didn’t get to do this because of lack of time and the bad weather (it doesn’t make sense to climb all those narrow steps to have fog and rain block any view out), but I am hoping to go back before I leave Italy to make the climb…

After bidding adieu to Florence, one of my all-time favorites, we stopped in Siena for one last night of travel before returning to Rome and the usual deadlines, reading assignments, and piles of laundry. Ah, Siena, how I do love thee. What an amazing city! After my brief obsession with the hill-town of Assisi, I think I am now turning my urban fixation to this hill-town, comprised of three separate hills that join at a center saddle, where the central public space is located. The Campo, which literally means field, is quite amazing because it is sloping towards the city hall and a ridiculously tall medieval tower. This creates a space that people can linger in on foot or sidewalk cafes, but also on their butts…it’s sloped enough that you can sit down, as if you are in a theater, and observe all the activity. The day we had in Siena was the most gorgeous of the 11 day trip, and was also the day of a huge outdoor market in the Campo. Local merchants were selling fresh pastas, sauces, cheeses, meats, art, jewelry, antiques, and numerous other practical items. It was such a stark contrast to how we saw the campo the night before on our way to dinner – pretty empty of people, but full of architectural character. That day, the architecture played the perfect backdrop, while the hundreds of people were the characters…much like a play. Robert and I climbed the tower and saw some of the most breathtaking views of Tuscany. The rolling hills and untouched landscape past the city (unlike American cities where the edges of cities are indistinguishable because of sprawl) were green and gave me hope that spring is on its way!

Hopefully this means that I can retire my green jacket for the semester and enjoy the warm Italian sun the rest of my days here…as they dwindle…

Since it has taken me almost two weeks to finish this post, I think I better stop typing. If you made it to this point, God bless you. My guess is you are bored at work…J

Recipe: Sicilian Chickpea Medley

2 Tblsp olive oil

1 onion
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
2 cups carrots, chopped
1 cup white wine
fresh ground pepper

-saute all together until carrots are soft

-add the following ingredients to the above mixture and cook through
1 head of escarole (chicory, bokchoy, or similar), pulled into pieces
1 cup raisins
2 cans chickpeas, drained
1-2 cups vegetable stock, as needed

1-2 cups small farfalle pasta ("farfalline") (or similar)
-boil pasta, drain, and add to the above mixture at the very end.
-stir/mix together, heat through, and serve

Hope you enjoy!

Belgium: Where Umbrellas Go to Die

The people who gave Chicago the name “Windy City” have obviously never been to Belgium. The nine days my class spent in and around Flanders reminded me of the winds we got in Brunswick when hurricane Floyd was rolling through…Ok, I’m being dramatic, but seriously, the wind and rain we had to endure during the majority of our trip almost ruined it…

But…then there was the Belgian food that redeemed the Northern European cities. How do you say “delish” in Dutch? My guess is something that sounds like you said “delish” with peanut butter in your mouth. I’ll get back to the food, but first I’ll talk about the goal of the trip, which was to see good traditional architecture and urbanism. Oh yeah….that’s right…I almost forgot that’s what I came to Europe for after tasting the Belgian food.

This trip was much different than our other trips, mostly because we travelled with another professor: one who values long, yummy dinners and personal time more than my studio professor with whom we usually travel. Needless to say, this made the trip much more like a vacation and a break from our quick jaunts to multiple cities within a day.

The university arranged for our small group of six to stay in a quaint little house in Bruges for the entirety of our trip. Staying in a house rather than a hotel allowed us to stay in and cook group meals a few nights, which always helps with the bank account, but also exposed me to even more diverse meals within the 9 days. One night JiYeon and Huaxia cooked authentic Asian food. Another night Jenn and John (the married couple in my class) cooked a Sicilian Pasta/Vegetable dish that was delish (she gave me the recipe, so I might post it on here if any of you want to try something new). The night Robert and I volunteered to host satisfied a craving I’ve had since I left for Rome: Mexican. Yes, I was in Belgium cooking and eating Mexican food, but I couldn’t resist when I saw Old El Paso seasoning, salsa, and tortilla shells in the local grocery store. In case I haven’t stressed this, Italians are typically set in their ways and don’t sell other ethnic ingredients in their grocery stores, so it’s been difficult for me to cook anything but variations on pasta. All of you reading this probably know that cheese dip and burritos are somewhere at the top of my list of favorite food, so I made the group some super yummy fajitas with chicken and shrimp (which I bought at the local outdoor fish market that morning – hello freshness!). My stomach was happy. How did I just manage to write a really long paragraph about food but haven’t even begun to describe the Flemish food? I also realize I haven’t talked about the city yet.

Bruges is a city with medieval fabric that stood as the mercantile capital of Europe for centuries because of its location on the North Sea, or Nord Zee as the Flemish say, and along popular trade routes from England to southern European countries. Because of this commercial foundation, Bruges serves as a great link between the Roman medieval towns we’re seeing this semester and American cities. Ultimately, as an urban designer, I need to understand architectural typologies (church, town hall, house, etc.) and their relationship to urban spatial types (plaza, street, square, etc.), but I also need to experience how commercialism works within this framework of architecture and space. Hence the trip to Bruges…

Because the time we had in Bruges was about 15 times as much as we usually spend in one city on a field trip, we were able to do things that I would normally do on a vacation vs. a work trip (which is how our other trips have felt). We spent a lot of time in the several museums of the city, one of which had an exhibit on the history of the city. We also discovered that one can learn a great amount about urbanism and history just by studying the art in the public buildings. The Flemish Art was probably one of my favorite things about the trip. The Flemish Primitives, as they were dubbed because they worked before the geniuses of the Renaissance, were not so primitive. The realism and extreme talent expressed in the wax-based paintings were extraordinary. I was able to see one of the greatest known pieces of Flemish art when we took the train to Gent one day to see the Gent Altarpiece, aka Mystic Lamb or The Adoration of the Lamb by the Van Eyck brothers (14^th century geniuses).

The day after Gent, we took the train to Antwerp where we miserably walked around in the rain all day. We went to mass in the Cathedral (When you travel with a bunch of Catholics, you manage to go to church every week…which is never a bad thing. The only bad thing is that it’s always in Italian, so I pretty much don’t follow any of it except the stand up/sit down/stand up/sit down part.). Coming back to Bruges from Antwerp that night was like walking through an umbrella graveyard. As I experienced days before when trying to sketch in the large open market square in the rain, the wind is intense when it whips around the corners of the buildings. Robert, too, experienced the worst of the wind when he went through two cheap umbrellas within the week. Huaxia was the funniest when she bought an umbrella that said “I Heart Sun” only to realize the umbrella didn’t heart her as much as she hearts sun…it broke within 24 hours of her buying it. Watching her struggle with it, however, was one of the highlights of the gloomy day for me (Naturally, I laugh at other people’s misery. Yes, I realize this makes me a mean person and karma will get me). Apparently that day we were in Antwerp was one of the worst days for wind because I saw probably 30 contorted umbrellas in and around trash cans within the 10 minute walk to dinner. In case you don’t believe me, check out my Picasa album. J

In the few hours of clear skies we had on Thursday, we rented bikes and rode out to the small village of Damme along the canal from Bruges to the North Sea. This was so much fun! The tree-lined trails were really beautiful, and the little town had all the necessities of a city within a very short walk. In true character, I enjoyed the food we ate there just as much (if not more) as the architecture and urbanism. I ate a delicious savory crepe, which is like a French pancake stuffed with ham, corn, and tomatoes . The French and German influence is obvious in all of the food in Belgium. My professor took us out on the school two nights for nice meals, and mm, mm, mmm – I ate well. The cuisine is typically heavy and rich – meat and potatoes type dishes. As a girl from the south, and more importantly a Watson, this was right up my alley. I feasted on shrimp in a garlic cream sauce, followed by rib eye and potatoes al gratin, and topped it all off with a yummy chocolate mousse. I did mention the school was paying for this, right? J I can’t believe I haven’t brought up the wonderful Belgian Beer that I proceeded to drink at every opportunity. The beer is probably what brings non-architects to Belgium. It’s that good. Robert and I would have our own little beer tastings each night, trying them based on how cool their glasses were that went along with them. Belgians always drink their beer in a glass – always, and the glass is shaped for the aroma/style of beer. It made me feel pretty swanky, and I realized there isn’t a beer I don’t like. What does that say about me? Don’t judge.

Leaving Belgium was pretty sad because I had to say goodbye to a restful, tasty time to return to Rome (how dreadful, right? ;) ) only to do laundry, pack, and prepare for another long trip two days later to Veneto and Tuscany. I actually just got back to Rome from this 11 day trip, so as you can imagine, I haven’t had a lot of time to write this blog post between seeing amazing places like Piazza San Marco, the Florence Cathedral, and Palladian villas. More to come on that trip…stay tuned…

"Turn Around Your Face"

I apologize for being so tardy with my blog posts. I know most of you have been constantly refreshing your browsers waiting for another issue of Cheese Grits. I'm kind of a big deal in the blogging world, so I get your obsession with my blog. It's cool. I mean...I do have like ten followers. ;)

It's been a few crazy weeks over here. Last Friday was the final review of our first of two projects in Studio. This meant a week of little sleep and little time to stay connected to my life outside of Rome. But, in comparison to the amount of time I had to put into a final review in South Bend, one week of working really hard seems like nothing.

I was able to take a break from the final push on my project on Friday (now almost 2 weeks ago) when a freak act of nature blew through Rome...SNOW! According to one of the administrators at school, it hasn't snowed here since 1986. Wow. That's almost my lifetime. When the snow started coming down heavily, a group from my class ran over to the Pantheon to see the huge clumps of snow fall through the oculus (basically an open whole/skylight) of the dome. I was a little underwhelmed with the snow inside the building, but was in awe of the sight outside. Just as the piazzas are intended in Rome, a crowd of people started filling the space in order to see the once a quarter-century event. It was was sa-weet. This is another item I can add to my list of "I didn't know I was going to grad school to ___." In this case, I didn't know I was going to grad school to move to Rome to see a beautiful snowfall that many Romans can say they've never seen before. It was kind of sad when only a after a few short hours of winter bliss, the sun came back out and melted the little bit that stuck. It's funny to me that I'm writing about how beautiful the snow is here when I almost cried the first time in snowed in South Bend. I knew there would be no turning back after the first snow...and let's be honest...snow in South Bend, Indiana is not the same as snow in Rome. Even though it's cold here, I'd rather be cold in Rome than South Bend. Right?

After the winter wonderland, the same group I described in my last post (including Angelo, our bus driver, and his re-tarded TomTom GPS) ventured down to southern Italy to visit Pompeii, Palestrina, Naples, Sorrento, and the island of Capri. We had to leave at 6 am (again) Saturday morning in order to pack in all these cities within the two day/one night trip our studio professor planned for us. First stop: Palestrina. Honestly, I was still half asleep when we stopped here on our way south, so I couldn't really tell you all the historical background of the city that I should have learned. I can describe to you in two words what I remember from the 7:30 am visit: icy steps. Palestrina is in the mountains and obviously got the worst of the weather that rolled into Rome the day before. Have I mentioned how many steps I've been climbing lately? So, for once, the physical exertion wasn't what got me on these bad boys...it was the snow and ice that covered the entire stepped pathway to the top of the city. I clung to the ancient walls for dear life trying not to bust it and tumble all the way back to the street below. I was mostly successful with a few near-busts. I don't know why they don't salt the ancient roads. Could it be because the salt would destroy what history has preserved for thousands of years? Eh - maybe. On that day and in spite of my obsession with historic preservation, I was still voting for salt.

After Palestrina, we went to Pompeii, the ancient Roman city that has been unearthed in the last century. This place was pretty sweet to see. Because the entire city was covered in the ash of nearby Mt. Vesuvius for thousands of years, this preserved the structure of the ancient city enough that one can walk the streets of a Roman town, step inside the forum where the citizens socialized, politicized, shopped, and worshiped, and inhabit the huge amphitheaters they built with their bare hands. The fact that what these people built over 2 thousand years ago still stands and still displays lessons of urbanism should make us really question the stuff we build today. Why is it that in America a building is only built to last maybe 20 years? Talk about unsustainable... Ok, I'll get off my soapbox now. That was not my intention for this blog.

From Pompeii, we ventured on to Naples, one of the largest cities in Italy. We arrived around dinner time Saturday night, and I got the vibe that this city was filled with kids and partiers. I kind of wanted to join in their "Carnavale" (basically Mardi Gras) celebration, but instead, my class went to dinner with just about the entire professorial staff for the ND Rome and Graduate program. I forgot to mention that between frantically finishing drawings for our review, we had to meet with a representative from the NAAB (the accreditation board that is reviewing the ND program this year to ensure they're teaching us all the stuff they're supposed to be - this is a really big deal, by the way) and the Dean of the School of Architecture since they were in town to review the Rome program. Our trip to Naples coincided with the undergraduates' weekend trip, so the six of us graduate students were able to walk the city and have a real Neapolitian pizza dinner with all these wonderful professors. Unfortunately, we had to leave the next morning, so what we saw in the dark was it. That was enough for me though. I got the vibe that Naples wasn't the city for me.

Sorrento and all the small, water-front towns on the Amalfi Coast that we visited the next day made me feel right at home. They were beautiful and had some of the most spectacular views to the Mediterranean. We missed the early boat to the island of Capri, so we weren't able to make it over there, unfortunately. But, the long, scary, treacherous drive we took overlooking the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast more than made up for not seeing Capri. I hope you look through my pictures on picasa (coming soon) to see just how amazing this road trip was.

After stopping in the town of Amalfi for a quick tour and a cup of coffee at a gourmet cafe, we all climbed back in our van to notice that Huaxia bought a beautiful piece of tiramisu. She proceeded to eat it off the tiny napkin while bouncing around in the back of the van. Meanwhile, our spacey professor realized she's eating something delicious without turning around from the passenger seat. In typical Huaxia style (she frequently says things in English in a perfectly reasonable order or way, but, to us, it sounds funny), she told our prof to "turn around his face" to see the tiramisu. He didn't quite follow what she is told him to do (I suppose he could have been focusing on the winding roads, but regardless, he didn't turn around to look at her while they were having this broken-English convo), so she continued to tell him to "turn around his face" as the rest of the group is dying laughing at this phrase she's substituted for "turn around." As usual, this was hilarious, and, since, we all have enjoyed using this phrase in everyday conversations with each other.

I think I've written enough for this post, so I'll save my new stories about Belgium, where we've been for the last 4 days with a different professor, for my next post. Stay tuned...

The ONLY thing I hate about Rome...

...is Laundry Day.

Our sorry excuse for a washing machine/dryer combo works when it chooses, clogs every other load, and doesn't dry worth a crap. I'm not exaggerating - I really think the clothes come out wetter after the "dry" cycle than when they went in. So, I'm left to hang-dry everything either in my bathroom (note: there is no shower...just a tub. oh boy.) or on the clothes line outside. I've never felt so energy efficient in my life. Ah ha! There's the silver lining...my carbon footprint is diminishing. Yay.

An Italian, a Korean, a Chinese, a Cuban, and four Americans...

The title of this post probably sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but it was actually the demographics of the trip my class took to Umbria, the Italian region between Lazio (Rome) and Tuscany (Florence), this past weekend.

The Italian was our no-English speaking driver with a TomTom GPS that led us through a maze of obstacles to places like a road closed for an Italian carnival, gravel roads so old and desolate that they could have passed as early Roman roads, the Medieval streets of "super blocks," as my professor calls them, that are barely wide enough to fit a car through (it's common to have to pull in your side mirrors in Italian towns just to fit through), and a bumper to bumper traffic jam so bad it looked like a parking lot. I'm not just using the cliché of describing traffic as a parking lot, but it literally looked like a parking lot as all the Italian drivers turned off their engines, got out of their smart cars, and proceeded to socialize in the middle of the highway. This was so typical of the Italians. Any chance they have to strike up a conversation, they take - stranger or not.

The Cuban is my self-proclaimed "spacey" professor. His teaching style is just as spacey and fragmented, but the man knows his stuff. He often encourages us to work on "half moon" days because they are supposedly our "creative days." He's into all this philosophical kind of stuff...lunar phases, feng shui, ying and yang, etc. As crazy as these ideas are to me, they work for him and his way of describing things that are often not taught. He's an interesting dude to say the least.

The rest of the group is my studio class, 3 of which are my roommates. Needless to say, we are together a lot. My Chinese and Korean roommates are teaching me all kinds of great Asian things to cook. Apparently the minute rice or rice cooked in the microwave that my Mom and I have always cooked is no good. Who'da thought? I put my own southern spin on rice a week or so ago when I cooked all my roommates soul food. In this case, I made gravy to put on top of the rice. Naturally. Mmm, mmm good. Since the name of my blog is "Cheese Grits," you probably understand how much southern food means to me, but I digress...

Getting back to the trip...after leaving at 6:00am Friday morning, we arrived in Orvieto around 7:30am tired and groggy. Shortly after, the crisp, cold mountain air, with the help of a delicious cappuccino, woke us up. Orvieto was beautiful, clean, and surprising. Literally every step you take gives you another spectacular experience with the architecture, urban structure, or the people. Towers and churches pop up and are framed with each turn of a corner...it's so hard to put into words, so just take my word for it. It was an amazing town.

Next stop...Todi. Its large L-Shaped piazza fronted by the cathedral on one side and beautiful picturesque landscape on the other was amazing, but not my favorite...maybe we didn't stay there long enough to get see the best of what Todi had to offer.

We left Todi (all of these towns are within 20-30 minute driving distance, by the way) to go to Perugia to spend the night. Its large "corso" piazza which stretched from one church down to an overlook of the surrounding mountains was different than any other urban spatial type that I've seen before. When we arrived Friday night, it was empty and a little too vast, but the next day, in spite of the rain, when it was filled with people, it felt incredible. Lesson learned: you can design a wide street/piazza as long as you have people to visit and loiter in the space.

During this trip I got a little taste of what things are important to Italian hotels. Showers are not. Bidets are. When Huaxia (my Chinese roommate), JiYeon (my Korean roommate), and I got in our room, we were surprised to see two single beds and a bunk bed. Guess who got the bunk? This girl. And no, I didn't claim top bunk. As we were all getting ready for bed, a large puddle of water started coming from under the bathroom door...it was seriously a great flood of Perugia. Huaxia was taking a shower and the "tub" of the standing-room-only shower was only about a half of an inch deep...yeah, so water doesn't exactly stay in the basin. I, of course, started freaking out trying to dry up this tsunami before it got to my bag. Meanwhile, JiYeon, as nice as can be cracked the door and said, "Um, Huaxia...there seems to be water coming from the shower..." I can't tell you how hysterical it was to see this situation unfold. It got even better 5 minutes later when Huaxia tried to plug in her blow dryer and blew the electricity. That made two times within five minutes that JiYeon had to go to the front desk and attempt to charade to the Italian desk clerk our situation. Hilarious...let me tell you.

Quite possibly one of my favorite places I've ever visited is Assisi. This hill-side town was founded by the Romans and later became a pilgrimage site for the "Franciscans" (founded by St. Francis of Assisi) and the "Poor Clares" (founded by my patron saint, St. Chiara, or St. Clare). I'm not sure if it was the church with my name, the delicacy of the pink and white stone, or the narrow winding stairs that led you to the top of the hill and the Rocca (old fort/castle) but this place was unforgettable. The cannoli weren't too shabby either.

After Assisi, we ventured over to Spello, another hill-town close by. It had some cool things going on urbanistically, but the architecture wasn't anything to write home (or blog) about. However, there was a resident that is totally worthy of blogging about.

I'm standing in the street sketching (this is what we do - nerdtastic, I know) and hear a man cough/hack, so I turn to make sure this disgusting noise didn't come from Robert (whom I had lost and who frequently makes questionable noises), but I see a man about 70 years old walking down the steep hill. After he hacks his lungs up, he spits (gooo! I threw up a little bit when he did that), I hear something hit the ground, then see him running after whatever dropped while shouting Italian obscenities. Once the falling object gets close enough for me to recognize it, I realize the man accidently spit out his dentures! The old man was chasing after his teeth!!! The dentures looked like those little toy teeth that chatter when you wind them up. I kid you not; this was just about the funniest thing I've ever seen.

After this comedic experience, we went to Spoleto for a quick tour of the Cathedral Piazza and an awesome Roman bridge that spans across a ravine probably 600 feet. Apparently learning about landscapes is just as important for urban design as streets.

Who'da thunk that I would be hiking up mountains, crossing ancient bridges, watching old men scramble for their dentures, cleaning up a flooding shower, or going to Perusia to eat their wonderful chocolate for my grad school education? This really is becoming the experience of a lifetime.

*Please visit my picasa account for pictures from this weekend. I'm over fighting with blogger to insert pictures.