No Earthquake Damage in Bologna!

Hello- Just wanted to drop everyone a quick note to make sure you know that the big earthquake that hit Italy occured far south of Bologna and, while this region did experience a more mild quake last night, it was away from buildings and no one was hurt nor was any damage sustained. We are all fine up here, but do keep those who have suffered in the southern one in prayer and thought!

Thank you all for your concern!

Brussels

Ryanair is either loved or hated by all… it’s very cheap if you catch the right deal, but you must pay extra to use a credit card, to check in at the airport (which you must do if you are not an EU citizen), you don’t even get water on the plane and you cannot carry a purse in addition to your carry on. Still, if you are poor and the opportunity to fly to Brussels and back for a grand total of 30 euro presents itself, one can find herself on the “Ryanair-PRO” side of the fence.

Rachael whisked me away from the airport Thursday evening upon my arrival to this multi-lingual land. We drove into the city center to fetch two of her friends, Sandra and Savegry, then drove to the university part of town for dinner. I had a cherry wine followed by another dark brew, both of which are made in Brussels. The angelic Rachael already had a box of chocolates in the car for us to nibble after dinner and we, after driving in many circles, drove around the Atomiun, a giant model of the atom built for the 1953 world’s fair… it’s no Eiffel Tower but it’s neat looking. Because of bad road signs, it took about half an hour to find and involved some laughs at our driver’s expense, but we had chocolate to keep us happy. I also got to meet her German beau, Peter, who drove two hours to just to have dinner with us and to meet the new girl, knowing the whole time he’d have to wake up in only a few more hours to drive back to Deutschland and go to work. I found him to be a most considerate chap.

The next day, I got to wander the sights of this city, after a tutorial from Rachael. I saw the Manneken Pis, the comic strip museum where I got a picture with a Smurf, or should I say Schtroumpf that somehow didn’t format correctly on my camera (Darn you Gargamel!) They have a great pedestrian zone with shops and crowds, where I was approached by a middle aged man who asked if I had been at his philosophy lecture that morning because he was sure I was the girl who asked a question bout how one goes about reconciling Plato and Aristotle in the artwork of the Sistine chapel… righhhttt. I asked him what on earth needed to be reconciled and he actually smiled and said “That was my answer.” He’s smooth all right. I left him to go and try

a Stella on tap. I stand by my choice.

And chocolate, oh the chocolate! Shops everywhere peddling house-made confectionaries. It turns out Neuhaus was the first man to create the concept of an individual chocolate- a filled chocolate shell. And my oh my, how those Belgians fill those shells. Caramels, nougatines, marzipan, fruit pastes, nut creams. From the ones selling to the masses to the specialty one who is commissioned to perpare confections for the royal family’s events (Pierre Marcolini- where they dress in suits and play trendy music… it’s like shopping for fine jewelry there!), there is

something for everyone and one wants to wander into every one of those shops.
That evening, Rachael and I went to dinner at Sandra’s place and had a wonderful girl’s night. Her friends have enough boy drama to fill many wine soaked evenings so we had a great time. Rachael and I spent the rest of the night up until the wee hours bonding over chocolate and drunky skyping her family.

The next day passed like a blur as we drove around different EU buildings for my last glimpse of the city. Then, like a grand hostess, she could not let me leave without experiencing one of Belgium’s finest inventions: The French Fry. The line for them was comparable to ones I have stood in for the right Philly Cheesesteak or the perfect cheeseburger. They have perfected the

technique by double frying at just the right temperatures before serving to you in gargantuan portions with any number of sauces to dip in.

It is sad that no more weekend trips are possible until Spring Break, being that I’m wrapped up in preparations for midterms. Still, there have been amazing dinners with friends here and celebrations for anything we can get out hands on as an excuse.

Some weekend escapades around Northern Italy

Sometimes you need to get away. It’s great to live in a place where planes and trains are readily available for just these moments.
Just before the semester started, after my London experience, I got to be on the receiving end of the aforementioned need to get away. Mike, a Yank who lives in Germany, came to Bologna for a short visit and because he’s not the only one who fancies escapism, we took a train to Ferrara to take in the sights of this lovely little town only 45 minutes from here on the cheap train.
Most ruling families want their castle up high on a hill… away from commoners and protected geographically from invaders. Not Marquis Niccolò II d'Este… he decided to build Castello Estense right in the middle of his city… “Haha, I have a big castle and you can’t come because I’m going to surround it with a giant moat!” An added bonus, he put in some great dungeons which you can still go into and have messages written by prisoners over 500 years ago. They have dank down to a science.
Of course, Ferrara boasts its own lovely duomo and a number of other neat churches. They have a row of great confectionaries along a main street which make incredible tiny delights. Mike was so taken with one that he ordered a second round and declared it the best dessert he’d ever had. Their specialty is a kind of Lebkuchen surrounded by chocolate… it’s good, but it’s not the best sweet to be had.

A freak rainstorm during this sunny day led us to duck into the natural history museum. It was run by two bored middle aged women who were delighted to have visitors. We spent the remainder of the storm looking at animals from around the world, randomly placed in exhibits together. A manatee was sharing a display with birds. The ancient bug exhibit was creepy… and they even had a shrunken head!
Our dinner that night was amazing. Ferrara is known for its pastas stuffed with zucca, or pumpkin- a specialty of this region and without a doubt one of the best pasta dishes I’ve experienced in Italia. We both got it for our first course and at the homemade ravioli was almost an inch tall because it was so full of orange goodness. A walnut cream sauce completed its flavors and our Chianti washed it down while we waited for our second course- I had a swordfish steak in a lemon sauce accompanied by roasted veg. After all that, we should have stopped but “boozy cake” and a dessert liquor was too tempting to pass up for me. He had a custard dessert and a liquor recommended by the waiter, who took amazing care of us. We enjoyed the meal for almost 3.5 hours… this is how Italians do dinner.

The following weekend, Lenea and I spent Saturday afternoon in Padua. It was another short train ride from here and we soaked up the spring sunshine as we wandered through and intricately landscaped park. The town is beautiful and peaceful… not overrun by tourists but still boasting its share of treasures.

The Scrovegni Chapel, built for the owner’s usurer father in order to make restitution and get him into heaven, is the main attraction for any art lover or history buff. In the early 1300’s, He hired Giotto to paint frescos on the walls and the works, which cover the life of Jesus and Mary and also depict the final judgment, cover every surface in the small church. It is one of the most influential frescos and is said to be the first to use three dimensions in its technique. It also features faux painted marble that I never would have known wasn’t real if the 15 minute informational video you watch while sitting in an airlocked, temperature controlled room before the church keepers allow you to enter the main attraction in order to maintain the integrity of the somewhat damaged works. You get only fifteen minutes to take in the beautiful artwork and it truly isn’t enough… although you so tire of getting watched like a hawk the whole time.

On one of the piazzas, we wandered into the Palazzo della Ragione, which is a large building that is supposed to be one of the largest roofs in Europe to be unsupported by columns. There are paintings all along this huge cavernous hall and a giant wooden (and… er… anatomically correct) horse on randomly placed inside as well. The best part of this however, was the sunny walkway with beautifully painted porticos and a great view of the city.

We wasted the next hour people- watching on the piazza and drinking coffee… followed by wine. The sunshine infused us with hope of winter’s imminent departure and we traded stories of spring romances before traipsing across town to get back to Bologna in time for our friend’s birthday dinner in a beautiful restaurant on the Piazza near my house. It was a glorious end to a perfect day... we even managed to study on the train ride- is there anything SAIS students can't do?

Austria and a Viennese Ball

A free glass of wine, courtesy of the student government, relaxed the students on three coach busses heading east, far from Bologna, away from the confines of studies, the darkness would lift and in the morning, they would find themselves in a land of imperial dynasties and a center of European history. But not before some individuals on Bus 3, which happened to contain me as well, supplemented their free wine with cheap whisky and Italian beer and spent part of the night taking care of one of their friends, snapping photos, and gleefully replaying his less than dignified performance the night before as he wondered why he smelled so awful in the morning…
We groggily departed the busses and checked into our hotel rooms. In a place known for its cafes, I went out to a real breakfast at a most beautiful one with large wooden tables, high ceilings, chandeliers, and waiters dressed impeccably. They offered a wonderful real breakfast consisting of crusty rolls (back to a land of German baked goods- oh the difference!) with fresh butter, eggs, ham, fresh squeezed orange juice, and Viennese coffee, which is like a cappuccino with less foam. Revived and ecstatic to have a breakfast consisting of more than one pastry, some of us set off into the city to walk around its sights. The large cathedral in the middle of a pedestrian zone was a good meeting spot and we traveled along the ring road, passing historical buildings and amazing architecture, ending up at the Danube… which is a little less romantic in person than in your mind.

That evening, all transformed from scruffy students into debutantes and gentlemen; the fellows donned tuxedos and ladies went to the hairdressers to complement their intricate ball gowns. 210 SAIS’ers and their guests (our entire student body isn’t that big!) started the evening at a wine reception in the Museum auf Abruf- a gallery which shelters the contemporary art collection of the Department for Cultural Affairs of the City of Vienna. Here a SAIS alum, who heads this department, (how can I land a gig like that!) welcomed us to his city.

Walking to the for the actual ball, many of us stopped at the many small market stands set up close by and had German Christmas market food for dinner… in our formal wear. I had wonderful ham on good dense bread with sharp mustard and fresh horseradish (if you have been paying attention, this is my second serving of ham in the same day)… heavenly, but it could explain why I didn’t get asked to dance more…

The many rooms in the expansive Hofburg (built originally as a medieval castle, expanded into a residence for the all-powerful Habsburgs, currently home to home to offices of the Austrian President, National Library, Schatzkammer Imperial Treasury, Museum of Ethnography, the Spanish Riding School, and many intoxicated foreigners trying to master elegant 19th centrury dances) where the IAEA was having their ball each held surprises. Some had bars and sold appetizers, one had an oyster bar, another with hot dogs! One small room near the grand central staircase boasted a swing band and inexpensive wine while another, with a wall of windows looking into a courtyard, featured different Latin music all night. On the bottom floor was an 80’s dance room.

The main ballroom, however, was the sight to behold. Debutantes in white dresses all had their time to shine as they made their first appearance with their dates and showed us all how to properly waltz. Other events in the room included a square dance, different waltzes throughout the evening, and even an Abba cover band- completely dressed to the part.

We had two rooms to call our own, which were next to the small stage where the Celtic band played and people pretended to know how to Riverdance. We had a champagne toast in those rooms and could come and put up our feet, which was quite necessary for ladies who are used to wearing boots or sneakers day in and day out.

Until about 5am we kicked off the new day dancing in the 80’s room, everyone just letting go and going making the most of this once-in-a-lifetime experience. I can say I danced with one random dude who works at the IAEA, whose name I’ll never know. One of the band leaders, about 60 years old and resembling Kofi Anan, got up on the bar and danced for us. Taxis took us to our hotel rooms for a few hours of sleep. My roommate and I spent the morning watching Darkwing Duck dubbed into English.

We had the entire of Sunday to run around Vienna and walked around, took pictures, went to a few museums. We got to see a wonderful Klimt and Schiele exhibit at the Albertina. I knew nothing of Schiele before this but can say his work amazed me and his life story is nothing short of tragic.

Managed to find some fun sights. I had multiple servings of good, seedy Austrian bread. We hopped upon our busses at about 9pm and managed to get a few hours of sleep before we arrived at 7am in Bologna. The entire student body went home and slept. I have not taken a nap without being sick in years… I didn’t even make it under my covers.

I am taking a class called “Evolution of the International System” which is a European-centered history of the world since Napoleon, and we were just learning of the Congress of Vienna before going there so it was amazing to see the actual sights where these world-changing decisions were agreed upon… and to ice skate in front of them while dancing the Macarena with your friends… oh life, you are simply too good to me…

Venezia and Carnivale

Revelry is best enjoyed with wonderful friends amidst scores of strangers... from behind a mask.

Venice is a mere two hour train ride but it is another land. All the romance, the sighs, the old buildings, the gondolas, it's all there and if anything, it is underemphasized by the romantics who have tried to verbally depict it.

Arriving in the early eveining, we got to soak in but a few fleeting moments of the sun-drenched canals before the sun set and the mischief began.

The masks in the stores are amazing- everything you can imagine. For Carnival, the masks are also on everyone you pass. Some vendors have stands outside peddling their goods, others just keep their stores open late. The truly dedicated appear in full costume- resembling aristocrats, fairy tale characters, or fools. We wandered all about and all ended up finding just the right mask along the way. I certainly don't want to brag... but mine garnered more than one compliment and photograph from scores of people. The only problem was smiling as it pressed on my cheeks a bit!

For dinner, we found a chinese restaurant- one of the few places we could actually afford to sit down in- and thoroughly enjoyed hot sauce on everything we ate. I had the privledge of being with two people who have lived in Asia who had good advice on what to order. The lazy susan in the middle of the table facilitated a way to taste a bit of everything and enjoy the escape from the chilly evening! It was also the only place where one coudl see that everything from my dress, leggins, boots, earrings and mask all matched perfectly. Otherwise, it was all hidden beneath the coat.

The scores of people bring the streets to life and everyone is enjoying drinks and dancing to the techno or live bands blaring music from every piazza. Blue light ornimentation hang above pedestrian streets and one can meander to all the different locales and take in all the energy and cheer that goes with this celebration.

At almost three in the morning, about twenty SAISer's departed from Bologna train station, thoroughly exhausted but wickedly happy. As we walked home, my roommate charging ahead... (full bladders do that to a person) we reflected on a truly wonderful way to spend the Saturday evening after the start of a new semester. I am proud to say many of us were up and at 'em this morning, hitting the perpetual books... also proud to say many of us also spent the evening at Tracy and Daniel's having dinner together and remembering not to take ourselves too seriously.

B

Bear

My childhood home in the country lent itself to many miracles each spring as flowers adorned skeletal trees, birds acted as de facto roosters, and spring peepers serenaded those lucky enough to live within earshot of their collective voices. Another wonder of this season is new life- often in the form of wonderful tiny kittens. Sometimes our cats would give birth in the big barn and, at the appropriate time, bring them down to meet our family.

Our dear Cleo loved all and was beloved by both humans and her fellow felines. Her farsightedness meant that she would bound across the yard to you only to fall in the small pond as she got closer and things got blurry for her. From my big brother she was bequeathed with the motto “Heart of gold, brain of mold” because she was notorious for forgetting things... So she surprised us when she followed the normal cat routine and brought down a little black fuzzball early one memorial day weekend.

That was my first meeting with one of the greatest loves of my life. He was already crying nonstop at the edge of our long wooden porch which was in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. My parents were amazed at how loud this one was and woke me up to try and get close enough to him to bring him inside. I cooed back to him the whole time as I inched my way ever closer, trying to speak in comforting tones. He stayed close to his mom and kept a keen eye on me. The voice and the discerning eyes were first impressions that would stay with him. Scooting on my knees, I continued my approach. My parents both peered out the window when they heard silence and saw me with this little life in my arms cuddling him and smiling ear to ear. We had no idea what we were in for… we had no clue one cat could encompass so many traits or live out so fully his nine lives all the while effortlessly enhancing ours.

Bear was always a wild spirit. All black and fiercely independent, he was content to spend his days hunting in the fields and occasionally bringing back mice. He was skittish at first about being held and preferred being pet on the ground, always on his terms. A perfect day would be complete by playing in the yard with his best friend, Rebel. A short romance with Lucky, our lady cat, was cut short (literally) by a trip to the vet, for which we are fairly certain he never forgave us.

His voice always preceded him and saved him when we moved to Jefferson. He escaped during the moving process and we would have probably never found him had he not been whining the whole time. His meow was his trademark and was a sign of his fierce intelligence as he learned to tailor them in a way that sounded like “hello” when he would enter a room. “Do you need to tend to that crying baby?” people would ask on the phone. “No, that’s just our cat.” I am fairly sure more than one telemarketer thought we were insane.

Moving during the summer makes for a lonely time as you have no school chums to spend the hot afternoons with. Bear was also adjusting to life as an indoor cat and the two of us could waste away the afternoon in the yard or inside watching The Price is Right. A few attempts to get him to go on a leash were about as successful as the Weimar Republic…

Over the years, he became less aloof and began sitting on laps and enjoying hugs. Dad and Bear had a special bond. Dad doesn’t like cats… he likes Bear. Bear isn’t a cat. That is what he always said when he “cat-tured” him after their game where Dad would chase him until it ended with Bear accepting the hugs, whining all the while.

Mom and Bear had a special arrangement whereby she would put a blanket down near herself and he would cuddle next to her or between her legs as they relaxed in the evening. Never on the couch would he sit, always on a blanket. Nor would he eat from your hands until very late in his life. He was a sneaky eater but had a profound weakness for KFC (who doesn’t?).
When he got bored, he would watch the birds outside and get excited or terrorize the frog. He always managed to escape outside and go on adventures for a day or so at a time. Once he got out for too long and got hurt. His leg needed stitches and we always wondered what he encountered on that outing. He overused the other leg, which in response became arthritic and as he aged, his leg became fixed in one position. He never let it stop him, and it provided much comic relief for us as he would stubbornly jump

As I came home from college, he would always be angry at me for a bit for having left but end up on my bed at night, purring nonstop and making me happy. He could almost never spend the night in one place though, he always had to patrol the house and make sure everything was in order. Little escaped his observation.

With age came a calmer disposition, as demonstrated on holidays he was tolerant of curious grabby children, dogs, and crowds. He was always a great comfort when things went wrong and even welcomed my Vinnie (also all black!) to live with him in the big house when I absconded to Italy. Letting Vinnie out of his cat carrier during my weekend visits home, the two would sniff at each other (you know where) and form a circle which I named the chocolate donut.

Bear lived a full and rich life which ended abruptly this week. If ever I were grateful for something, its for the peace he brought to us, for the laughter he elicited as he ran so fast on the hardwood that he slid into the couch, and for the joy that began that spring morning many years ago and never stopped. Bear rests now… perhaps for the first time in his many lives. Peace be with all of you.

My new vice: London

London. Oh London… you haunt my thoughts. I thought I’d be able to see you in a few days… to get a good feel for all you have to offer, and leave you behind for a few years while I discover new destinations. Turns out my sampling just thrust itself into my blood like that first hit of heroin. I need more.

I played tourist for two straight days, sometimes accompanied by my friend, Ashlee, when she wasn’t finishing the final essay for Science, Technology, and International Affairs (I felt her pain as I was also in the class). I ran amok in the city, despite a dead camera battery that limited my ability to take photographs. Palaces spread out before me and big clocks chimed away the hours as I made my way along the Thames, taking in all the sights that heretofore existed for me only in National Lampoon’s European Vacation and all the books on British Royalty that have filled my head with fantasies of another era.

I experienced Westminster Abbey through its Sunday worship service and have now stood on the grave of Darwin and Isaac Newton after my first communion using wafers and sipping from a communal chalice. Other highlights included a trip up into tower bridge to take in the view(this is when the snow actually began, we felt like we were in a snow globe!), hobnobbing at Harrod’s, pretending I can interpret art in the National Gallery, not even trying to look smart as I took in modern art at the Tate Modern, and lots and lots of real cups of coffee.

The real reason I booked the trip was to visit various sites on Monday and Tuesday with 24 fellow SAIS’ers to learn about different organizations; all the appointments were arranged by the career services center. The most grand snow storm London had seen in twenty years tried to hamper those plans but we trudged through the snow, spent hours en route on the tube lines that actually were functioning, and made our way to each appointment. Only one cancellation greeted us. We visited Human Rights Watch, an NGO founded 30 years ago by a group of NY lawyers. A laid back former journalist runs their London office and he’s more than happy to be very honest about the economy and how it’s affecting his ability to work effectively. International Institute for Strategic Studies (think-tank focusing on international security) and European Bank for Reconstruction and Development are both impressive institutions that have a lot of SAIS’ers who were more than generous with their time and knowledge.

Our snowy Monday as young professionals concluded in a pub where we shared good beer (Guinness for this lady, of course) and anticipation of another day to be running amok, learning about the places we’ve only read about (and for whom we’ve spent hours crafting the perfect cover letter). We visited a risk analysis firm in the morning for their monthly conference and were briefed by some staffers afterwards. We found ourselves unfortunately blown off by Economist Intelligence Unit, despite having reserved a room for our lunch appointment (the weather excuse only holds so much water when almost all the lines are running and there is free food in it for them!). We did lunch anyway on the top floor of an old Victorian style house- turned- pub that had great wood ornamentation and chandeliers in its narrow, creaky stairwells. A dumbwaiter, concealed by two doors that were serving as shelves for bottles of scotch, brought up our meals. The cancellation allowed us time to check out the British Museum just down the street and take in an Easter Island statue as well as the Rosetta Stone (turns out it’s NOT a CD rom… interesting!)

After one more appointment with a startup that provides information and consultation for businesses looking to invest in renewable energy technology, we had some more free time. Luckily, we just happened to be on Piccadilly Circus, a street with millions of great shops. I have now been to a London Eurotrash institution- Top Shop (Think H&M, but this one stays in Britain instead of spreading the cheapy fashion love all over the world). The evening concluded with a happy hour thrown by the London Alumni chapter of SAIS and we got to mingle for a few hours with those who have passed before us and get to live in this fantastic city.

On to the food. England is supposed to have notoriously bad food… we couldn’t find it. My plane meal provided by British Airways was a bit questionable and remained uneaten (grey bacon on bread w’ tomato chutney… hmmm…) but after this, it was such a treat to have choices of food besides Italian.

We made out way into a pub that had an amazing selection of BURGERS (oh, burgers!) for very cheapy prices and included a pint of whatever you fancy. Twenty minutes later, I was happily sipping a Strongbow and chowing on a lamb and mint burger- my first venture into ground lamb, but probably not my last.

That night, instead of dinner, we went straight for dessert. Another quaint pub had a cozy basement, and despite the kitchen being closed, the chef agreed to whip up two sticky toffee puddings for a couple of hopeful girls who ordered good scotches. A bowl of salty nuts (giggle) completed the flavors and we cherished the moment as we blended the french vanilla ice cream with the deluge of warm caramel that covered the soft steamed sponge cake.

The next morning, after finding the hotel breakfast rather disappointing, we ventured out in search of “English Breakfast” that is advertised everywhere. We found a place to give it to us for 3 pounds. Perfect. It usually consists of some combination of eggs, cooked mushrooms, tomatoes, baked beans, black pudding, sausage, bacon, toast, potatoes. Ours was ok, but I am sure there is better out there!

Sunday Roasts and Guinness were our dinner that night. I didn’t realize the "Sunday roast" was a British tradition, but it was nice to have stuffing and potatoes and vegetables with your meat without having to order it all separately :)

After our site visits on Monday, and after the pub, a friend led a group of us to Brick Lane- a place known to have some of the best inexpensive Indian food. The blizzard had all the owners desperate for business and we ate at a wonderful place for 30% off the bill and a free round of drinks, promises shouted at us by the owner as we passed by. A long relaxing dinner wrapped up the evening as we all had to get home before the tube closed early.

Ashlee and I were exhausted by the end of Tuesday, all the schmoozing takes a toll. We stayed in after picking up pasties, shortbreads, and caramel topped cookies on our way back to the hotel and enjoyed more typical English grub, washed down with Australian wine. It’s almost sad to report that living in London can be accomplished much more inexpensively than in Bologna, even eating out is incredibly reasonable with the weak pound. At its normal exchange rate, it would have been similar to my fair city of porticos.

I must admit, I found one of my favorite activities and almost squealed as I got change to play

I won enough tickets to get myself some lovely London confectionaries.

London is truly an international city with its own wonderful, unmistakable identity. There is still so much left to do… another trip that includes the theater and a high tea is the new goal…