one week gone

This week has been curious indeed.

It has been my first week of classes and so far I am loving them all–or the ones I was able to make it to. Fiorenza, our Italian teacher, is adorable. For the first two classes, we spent half the class talking about Vasco Rossi, the only Italian rock star who also happens to have a big fan in Fiorenza. Also, to my delight, we will spend part of every class working on a conversation that we’re likely to have as we’re out and about in Florence. On Wednesday, we practiced how to order food and have a conversation with a salesperson in a clothing store. Tip: According to Fiorenza, you should never expect an Italian waiter to ask you how you’re doing. (“Come stai?”) If he/she does, he/she likely has ulterior motives. Rossi’s class–Becoming an Artist in Florence–was wonderful, but I definitely foresee it being the most difficult class for me this quarter. At the first class, he explained the syllabus and expectations in Italian and then we were off to a museum. We were told to spend 30-40 minutes on two sketches of any depiction of the human body in the museum. I forgot to write down which paintings I chose to sketch, but let’s just say they were painful and the proportions were all wrong (and one person I drew had a raptor arm that just couldn’t be helped). For next weeks class, I have to bring in 10 sketches (3-5 minutes each) of the human body. I have three, and they all make me want to draw less. I’m not sure if paintings will be better or even worse…

Even though we spent the three hours in a dark room switching through slides, my first class with Timothy Verdon was amazing because he proved within the first few minutes that he literally knows everything about European, specifically Renaissance, art. I had gotten five hours of sleep the night before and the room was dark, my feet were killing me, the rows of chairs were uncomfortably close together, yet I still felt like a kid on Christmas morning listening to Verdon speak (especially after I snuck out and bought an espresso in the lounge of the center). I’ve never been crazy about Renaissance art, but Verdon explains art history like a story, cause and effect. Every “why?” I can think of, Verdon answers just a few seconds or minutes later. We have two more classes in a classroom, which I’m not crazy about, but the others are out in Florence so I think those outings will make up for the three-hour slide reels.

A wonderful little performance in Piazza Della Repubblica. I think they helped everyone slow down just a little bit.

Even beautiful on a rainy night.

I also had what I believe to be the best Gelato so far this Thursday with my language partner. Vestri is small and hidden and doesn’t exactly flaunt the fact that they sell gelato. Instead, they are known for their amazing chocolates. Vestri has the most delicious, simple flavors I’ve had so far. The first time I went, I got Fior Di Latte, a really simple flavor that is essentially milk-flavored, and Chocolate Orange. This blend was heavenly. The second time, which happened to be about 3 minutes after I finished my first cone (I’ve never done that before!), I got Fior Di Latte again and Chocolate Piccante. Also wonderful, but I suggest the Chocolate Orange for first timers.

Also on Thursday, my host mom made just about the best meal I’ve had so far. It is called “Polpettone,” big meatball, and is essentially the Italian version of meatloaf but infinitely better. She served it with a homemade ragu on top and I so wished after the first few bites that I hadn’t chosen that day to have two rounds of gelato just a few hours earlier. I tried to say in as many ways as I knew how that I loved the dish so my mom would make it again, and next time she said I can help her prepare it. Also, I promised her I would make the family some Mexican cuisine before I leave. Mom, can you send the Albondigas soup recipe along?

Another favorite food in Florence: Pizza from Il Pizzaiuolo.

[Before this next bit, I PROMISE I’M FINE NOW.] The morning after the famous polpettone, I woke up feeling terrible. (And no, I didn’t go out the night before). I woke up at 8:30 with an insane headache, feeling extremely nauseous, and unable to feel my feet or hands. I tried to fall back asleep, hoping it’d go away–maybe I was just sleep deprived–but the pain was too strong. I got out of bed and came online, hoping Andrew might have some advice for me. When I began typing to Andrew, I was completely disoriented. I couldn’t put a sentence together no matter how hard I focused. Finally, I called Fosca, one of the women at the center, and tried to explain everything I was feeling. I was a bit hysterical, mostly because I hadn’t experienced anything like this before. Fosca seemed to be most concerned about how disoriented I was and insisted that the doctor that works with the center come visit me at my house. At one point, after hanging up with Fosca, I wrote the following sentence in my chat to Andrew: “when i tried to wrote fosca i kept writing the same weird saying i’ll call her if i need to go to the disco or my heard one stop hurting.” So yeah, pretty out of it. I fell asleep until the doctor came, and when he arrived, I was a little more coherent. He decided that I likely have a virus and wrote me a prescription. What ensued was one of the worst experiences of my life–walking down the street in the hot sun, a pounding headache, missing my bus, choosing to walk, certain I’m going to be sick the entire way to the pharmacy. Finally, after waiting in two lines, missing the return bus, sitting on the bus certain I’m going to have to pull the emergency stop, I made it home with my medicine. I slept until 5pm and when I woke up I felt much better, though the headache was stronger than ever. I’m still not sure what the whole episode was (not convinced it was a virus) but I’m glad the creepy parts of it are gone. A headache and upset stomach I can deal with. Not feeling my limbs and being unsure of where I am and what day it is, now that concerns me a bit. Having all this happen so far from home was pretty awful, but every traveler must have a collection of these less glamorous stories.

Today I woke up with the same relentless headache, but I couldn’t sleep until the sun went down again. After taking some tylenol and putting on some lighter clothes for the warm weather, I decided to go out to meet a few friends for lunch and then return home. (By the way, people aren’t kidding when they say that Italians dress according exactly to the day and month denoted on the calendar. Doesn’t matter if it’s 75 degrees, as it was today. Italians will continue to wrap themselves up in puffy jackets, scarfs, tights, peacoats, whatever. I wore a black shirt, black sweater, and white shorts today on the bus and I was looked at as though I had murdered someone. This “underdressing” on warm days always gives me/us away as Americans. I’m told once May comes, they might shed a layer or two.) We met at the Boboli Gardens, these amazing gardens in the Pitti Palace, very close to the Stanford Center. A few hours in the sun was just what I needed. When I returned home, I was ready for a relaxing night in. (The headache is still here).

Boboli Gardens.
Soaking it all in.

Anyway, I’m hoping I am completley better by tomorrow so I can go out and explore. Otherwise… well, I don’t want to think about an otherwise.

Love,
Tessa