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…

Sitting in the cafe, my fingers did not hesitate as they made the cursor highlight the "send" button and clicked my way out of semester number one of graduate school. Completing my last exam Tuesday morning, I finished two big essays for Science, Technology, and International Affiars and Contemporary Russian Politics and proceeded to have a mid afternoon glass of prosecco with some fellow students who are also finished.

Finals weeks are kind of an odd time around here. Two weeks without real class but with enormous obligations sitting sweetly upon one's shoulders like a rather sharp-toed crow. With each exam that returns to the professor, one of the dreadful little scavengers releases its vicelike grip and flies off... hopefully to a land uninhabited by humans. Before these birds take off, though, we all gain a sense of comradery as we realize we're all in this together. Bonds form with entire classes as you divide the lectures and spend evenings eating junk and sharing ideas about the questions we will face the exam.

Student Government decided to hold nightly coffee and tea breaks with cookies for those burning the midnight oil- amazing how something so small on our part can really break up the evening.

Poor Antonia seems to be needing more than coffee to get through this evening...

Other nice diversions included watching the new president swear in, amid phantom Yo Yo Ma performances, botched oaths, and Lowery's longing for a day when the red man can get ahead man. We broadcast the event in the auditorium live and I got to see my former boss demonstrate his uncanny ability to get free media coverage wherever it's available.

So inspired were my classmates that yes, even a room full of liberal grad students rose and sang along with the national anthem... see, one hat really can bring change!

Sometimes, to deal with stress, monkeys help... we had a few that invaded our library one evening after a few too many cups of the aforementioned coffee...

I joined the theater club and am proud to say I am starring opposite the male monkey in that photo in one of a series of one act plays we are preparing for April.

I had two Russian language exams, one verbal/listening and one written, a Macroeconomics final, International Trade Theory, and Contemporary Russian Politics. The politics one was my last exam and the one about which I was most nervous because it was my first essay exam (as opposed to economics or a language) in about five years! Fortunately, I got to spend two hours writing about my homeboy Putin so it went fairly smoothly. Finals were very different this time around than when I took them in college. Now when I finish, I don't even worry about the grade becasue I truly feel like I understand the subject matter and that's suddenly more important to me... wow, nerdom is strong with this one!

In two days, I am off to London for a weekend of sight seeing before two days of SAIS-organized site visits to various organizations that have agreed to talk to a group of us about grown up jobs. Hope all is well with everyone! Cheers to the end of a great (and long- two preterms plus a full semester plus christmas break means the whole thing lasted over six months!) semester!

Christmas Happiness!

The time passed very slowly on the 17th of December as I sat in class… Macroeconomics is never a very exciting two hours but this time was rather excruciating .

That’s it, I can’t do it anymore, I am skipping my audit class! I hightailed it out of SAIS and ran down the street to the little hotel near the end of Via San Vitale and right up to room 107 where the door opened for me and I crashed into the arms of my dad. Shortly thereafter I lost myself in the familiar hug of my mom. They were simply thrilled to see me-

We went out for cappuccino at Guilio’s (the cafe in school) so they could meet my classmates and understand what they've been missing with respect to coffee made outside this lovely boot. We then mosied over to check out my apartment, where we enjoyed wine and Mom and Dad each got to indulge in their first taste of Italian pizza- some of Bologna’s finest from Pizzeria Gianni’s. Four cheese for the lady and sausage, olive, and mushroom for the old man. I stepped out of my comfort zone and found that Italians can even make a pizza that sounds awful, ie. anchovy and capers, delicious. Dad was in my apartment for a total of five minutes before he found a way to fix something electrical my roomies and I had been struggling with for months... sometimes you just need a Dad. We ended the evening typically by making our way through the better part of a bottle of scotch.

The next day they were off to Venice to ride gondolas and eat Gelato. (I got to go to class). They decided to miss their train and didn’t get back to Bologna until about 3am… placing their daughter strategically on the other side of the phone from where she had been all her life, that is waiting for the call that they were home. “We forgot the cell phone” ‘That’s no excuse!’ aaah… parents. At least they had a wonderful time!

Friday morning… okay afternoon (being that we all had a rather late night before) we hopped upon a Eurostar and a few hours later stepped off in Rome. We spent the rest of the day walking about the city, throwing coins in Trevi fountain, visiting the bone sculptures of the Capuchin Monks (this even managed to creeped out Mom and me so you must know this is rather exceptional), ate gelato, wandered in churches, and eventually found our way into a wonderful tiny trattoria operated by a couple who single handedly cooked and served everything. Mom found the great pleasure that comes with eating lasagna prepared with hand- made fresh pasta.

The next day we entered another country and learned that the Sistine Chapel is well worth the hype. Vibrant colors engulf your eyes on all sides and make you think Michelangelo finished his frescos only a few years ago. Bible stories are depicted and his enemies and friends are immortalized appropriately on his depictions of heaven and hell. We learned that he was a sculptur and had never completed a painting when he was commissioned to create this masterpiece. You could have fooled me.

After our extensive Vatican tour (given by a guide who found herself rather witty), we got to pass the Swiss guard and go on a special tour of the excavations underneath St. Peter’s Basilica. Led by a spunky Italian who works for the Vatican, we were privileged to view the original tomb of the churches namesake and even the resting place of his bones.

The only truly unfortunate part of this trip was that Mom found herself under the effect of a rather nasty cold. She was a real trooper but after two tours, we took her back to the hotel so she could sleep. Dad and I went to one of the national museums and then enjoyed wine underneath the moonlight at a cafe before the Colosseum. That evening we were so lucky to find the most amazing Trattoria just around the corner from our hotel (which was near the train station, a neighborhood described by AAA as “unwholesome”). Situated between many Asian eateries, we feasted on the most incredible homemade ravioli stuffed with spinach and ricotta that measured about seven inches on each side. Our meat dishes were complimented by artichokes and sautéed greens, all covered in wonderful olive oil. We got mom pasta carbonara to go. Our “date night” ended in the hotel lobby with scotch.

The next day we toured the Colosseum and spent the afternoon climbing on ancient ruins. Dad wss tickled to be in a real vomitorium.

After hopping down to the south side of the city to see Rome’s pyramid, I introduced my parents to Ciao, a self service restaurant in train stations with great food you can customize and they introduced themselves to Buffalo mozzarella.

The next day, I flew to Germany while my parents took a train there through the Swiss alps, stopping in Zurich to grab a bite and buy a genuine Swiss Army Knife.

Meanwhile, my big brother and his lady Ray were boarding their first international flight. 24 hours later, my whole family was in Stuttgart at Aunt Mary’s. News then came our way- Nat and Ray are engaged! So it looks like I'll be getting a new sister-in-law! Woo Hoo! And she knits warm things! Score!

The smells and sights of Stuttgart’s Weihnachtsmarkt really give Christmas this special charm that’s just non-replicable. A souvenir mug of Glühwein keeps you warm while you browse the many tiny stands. I got my first Curry Wurst in almost 4 years, which I was so excited about that I made everyone try it and realized I got very little to myself. No worries, I’ll get one of those lovely Lachsbrotchen – cured salmon on one of their wonderful crusty rolls that’s so soft on the inside. Germans really know how to bake.

I got to go to a Starbucks and have a real cup of coffee, which made me so happy until I realized I wasn’t feeling quite right, I couldn’t even make it through a small cup (which is 3 times the size of any coffee drinks in lovely Italia)… that night I realized that there was perhaps something fishy about my wonderful Salmon brotchen as a result, my stomach gave it and everything else I’d eaten that evening back to Aunt Mary’s toilets throughout the course of the night. The next few days, some of the best for eating, were full of tiny bites, no coffee or alcohol, and crackers and toast as my stomach and body recovered from a most violent bout of food poisoning.

Chrismas eve dinner was wonderful. We made a nice traditional ham dinner and shared Christmas memories. Aunt Mary’s two “adopted kids,” Mike and Rachel joined us for dinner and provided both wonderful company and comic relief (although no one ever makes me laugh harder than Nat!).

Amazing is the only word I ahve for Chirstmas morning. My grandma sent me packages with warm socks and my favorite herbal teas among other lovely things that made me feel old for getting excited about (Pens! A new sweater! Yippee, vitamins!). We had a relaxing day, which I needed desperately. I got to help a bit in dinner preparation of Sauerbraten and Kartoffelknodel. The whole day I kept looking around at my family who had all flown out to spend Christmas with me I knew I was blessed.

On Boxing Day, I shared some of my new home's culinary specialities with the family. I had brought the best meats, cheeses, fresh pasta, and regional wine along with a traditional dessert.

Saturday began a marathon of sight seeing with the assistance of a rental van- first we went to a small town on lake Constance and enjoyed a great lunch before touring an ancient castle with a climbable tower and a rather grim well used to hold prisoners that had life sentences.

We also got to experience “Kaffee und Kuchen.” The Brits can have their tea and crumpets, Germans do coffee and cake! Black forest cake all around helped us forget the frigid temperatures. I was sick of barely eating because of my illness so I stuffed the whole thing in my trap and decided I would deal with whatever came.

That evening we ate at a sweet little German restaurant down the street from Aunt Mary’s and celebrated Rae's 26th birthday. Our day had been exhaustive and she partied it up by falling asleep right after we got home!

The next morning we headed out to Munich and checked into Dad’s new favorite place to sleep- Hotel Daniel! We ventured into the town and spent the day seeing the sights, climbing towers, and playing with statues.

Finding a catfish statue, I knew there was no way to get out of what I was sure my dad would make me do… yep I saw that coming.

I was able to forget my trauma that evening thanks to the assistance of a giant mug of yummy Hofbrauhaus brew. And a pretzel bigger than my head. And singing drinking songs while toasting and listening to an oompah band. It's a 3 step program to recovery.

Fairytale castles dominated the next day as we toured Hohenschwangal and Neuschwanstein. It is truly exceptional to see how King Ludwig’s mind worked as you view his unfinished palace full of giant swans, faux caverns and abstract designs adorning every wall, ceiling and staircase. Bavaira was a balmy 12 degrees at the bottom of the mountain… to the top of which we rode in a horse-drawn carriage. After the tour, we hiked to the bottom in the dark and worked together to spot and dodge the gifts left by the aforementioned horses.

My wonderful, exceptional mother spent the two hour trip home rubbing my feet as to restore feeling. Having had only a light quick lunch in between tours, and a day full of walking, we were about to gnaw off our arms as we made our way into a crowded brewery near Aunt Mary’s for dinner that night. There I drank a Hefeweizen that reminded me why I don't drink beer in Italy. Afterwards, many of us had a mediocre apple strudel that was saved only by the wonderful mixed berry compote and vanilla sauce that garnished it.

On my family’s last day in wonderful Deutschland we had a lazy morning and then made our way to Hohenzollern Castle which is atop a mountain in Schleswig Holstein. We had to hike up a rather long route to reach the object of one of the best castle views I have ever seen. Nat and I braved the steep path directly to the palace while the rest took the less treacherous but longer road. The castle is still owned by a descendent of the Hohenzollern family, a 32 year old who lives in Bavaria. We ate lunch right beside the castle while we waited for our tour time. Mom and Dad had the most amazing soup full of different noodles, mushrooms, and meat dumplings.

For the tour, we were required to wear giant slippers over our shoes to protect the floor. It was dead sexy to say the least. This castle, which is relatively young being that it has been rebuilt twice, had a special room where we could see treasures that belonged to the Hohenzollerns, like china, a gown, a crown. It was a welcome change from the stoic suits of armor and intimidating weapons and torture devices that largely dominate the relic portion of castle tours.

Dinner that evening was at home and we relaxed with cocktails, a chicken and broccoli casserole and lots of good wine. Nat and I shared giggles and stories about our Grandma Kauffman’s house and all the fun things we used to think were so cool to play with like a typewriter, magnifying glass, and a wheelchair we found in the garage.

Nat and Rae had managed in the last 9 days to eat about every kind of Wurst and Schnitzel, while Rae had only learned one hard lesson about food… leberkase, while translating into English as “meatloaf” is anything but our American perception of the hamburger-based casserole (think Spam with extra liver goodness)…

Mom and Dad had tried great beer and wines and added 3 new countries to their growing list of European destinations.

We had all sampled our way through about every pastry offered in the bakery down the street and demolished a ridiculous amount of fine Belgian chocolates brought by Rachel who lives and works in Brussels. Most importantly, we had spent a great time adventuring together and reconnecting. I hope to do it again when I am in better health!

The next morning, December 31, we managed to get everyone to the airport and off to America. Afterwards, Aunt Mary and I tidied her home and made our way to a train which whisked us to Heidelberg where a New Year’s celebration with her two closest friends, Jan and Greg, was awaiting us. This friendly couple has a great home near the center of town. As midnight hit, fireworks exploded all over the city and the bridge on which we stood. Full size ones shot off three feet from us and kids threw firecrackers with reckless abandon. The entire sky was ablaze with these bright spectacles as the crowds downed champagne or whatever they had in hand. Busses had to brave streets overflowing with flaming novelties and jovial crowds. Afterwards, we had an interesting dinner and cheese course and our hostess even made donuts from scratch!

Heidelberg was hung over the next day. The weather was awful and even Starbucks was closed. We made our way through the tired city and then decided to go home and have junk food and watch movies. A pizza delivery completed our evening- not bad, but twas no Italian pie!

Over the next two days, I got to experience a German shopping mall and go on base to glimpse wonderful American food and products. The commissary reminded me exactly of a Wal Mart, which really charmed this girl who once in a while falls victim to nostalgia. I invented a game for us, Jengable, in which we combined Jenga and Scrabble. Bridget Jones provided the background for our game, which I won't say who won...wink.

Sunday, I flew back to beautiful Bologna while trying to forget as soon as possible the layover in Charles DeGaulle, which I have decided has to be one of Paris’s most shameful construction projects.

It took a few days, but I am back in the swing of things, finally! This week has flown by and I only have one more before the two week finals period begins! We're all getting together whenever possible while we have the chance before exam preparation and essay writing once again dominate our hours.

I wish you all a wonderful New Year! How fantastic to think that we'll get another year of celebrations, learning, and growing!

Among my resolutions: Write more, calm down a bit (perhaps a lot...), and, a gross one: floss more! Cheers to each of you and all the best!

Speeelunk!

One lovely October afternoon, I left the cozy comfort of the school's library after an enthralling Saturday class followed by a few hours of studying and ventured to the other side of town to check out Bologna's underbelly. 4 great people accompanied me: Anni, from Denmark, Alessandra, from Germany, and Daniel and Rachel, both American. We were excited for our little guided tour of the canal system above which modern-day Bologna's infrastructure stands.

We had no idea what we were in for.

Upon our arrival, we noticed that there were wet boots laying around and helmets. Oh goody! Helmets = fun!

Some rustic-looking men emerged from the street, wearing waterproof pants and boots. They hadn't shaved in a few days and were more than a little dirty. Little did we know, for the next few hours, we would be at their complete mercy.

"Are we going down there?"

'I think so...'

"With them?"

'Uhhh...'

Then came the moment to remove our shoes and put on the knee-length rubber boots. Alex did it first and screeched as her foot went directly into a soggy abyss... the chilly water soaking her

sock. Her sacrifice enabled us to improvise and we found some plastic bags and wrapped up our feet before donning the boots. We were further surprised by the helmets with exposed velcro, giving our scalps the most lovely massage treatment... right.

Then we went into the hole in the street... into complete darkness. One man in there shone a flashlight, more in our eyes than in our path. We stumbled through inch deep water, unable to stand up straight. After scaling down a small ladder, we were mostly able to stand straight and walk through increasingly deep water that was making us a bit nervous. Tea lights around the walls of the tunnel illuminated our path. "Isn't there supposed to be a boat involved somewhere here?"

Our lingering question was answered when we came upon an inflatable dingy raft. We hopped aboard, and the man who had been leading us grabbed two ropes and did his best mule

impression as he pulled us along. Noticing apples hanging from strings, I came to the conclusion that these were sacrifices to giant Bolognese rat gods to allow us to traverse their canals. We changed rafts once when the elevation of the tunnel changed. We weren't sure if we would ever see light again...

Luckily we emerged between some buildings on the north end and went under a quaint bridge with a well-known restaurant and many interested spectators waving to us. We exited the rafts and removed our super cool garb to be happily reunited with warm shoes again.

Then it got even stranger.

Our tour guide led us across the piazza where the street literally opened up after he pushed a magic button. It looked like a big fish in camaflague opening it's road-resembling mouth in hopes of snacking on some unsuspecting students who are niave enough to think "oh cool, the street opened! wonder what's in there?"

So in we went, down a ladder, and the street-fish closed its mouth. We were given giant candles to light out path and this time walked under the city on a path that had once been a vibrant canal in this city. Inside, a stream ran alongside us and we could see old sewer holes that used to dispose of Bologna's fine cuisine... There was also a sculpture made of scrap metal in the shape of an angel and more of those mysterious apples.

Since we were in the dark and holding giant candles, we decided to be monks and stayed at the back of the group chanting what we believed to be greek hymns... mostly impressions of monty python monks and fraternity letters.

Guess street-fish had enough of us, because at the end it opened another orfice... we won't speculate what this one is if we entered through its mouth... and released us on the south side of town. We were adequately damp and chilly and decided to end the activity as many activities in this land end, in a cafe, having cappuccinos (even though it was far too late in the day for such things, espresso is just over too quickly when you are cold!). I feel like I know my town better now and must say that despite the chills and dampness, it made me feel like Indiana Jones to adventure underground and end up back in the library a few hours later studying with no one suspecting a thing. No cool religous relics or battles with Nazis though... sigh, next time.

Duty

So I am sitting in "America and the World Since 1945" a fascinating class I audit only because I learn so much about my own country and the professor is so eloquently spoken... so you can effectively call me a nerd. Anyway... he has said the word "duty" like 8 times in the last 2 minutes... and I can't stop giggling. Thank God I am sitting in the back.