Drunk soccer fans + Ciao, bella! = first culture shock experience

Sunrise from my DarsenaCity apartment

I start taking my intensive Italian classes tomorrow, so I won’t feel like such an idiot parading around the streets of Ferrara without knowing the language. Today was the first day I slept in, and I’m tired at the moment, so I think I’m finally adjusted to the time! When I woke up at 10:30, I realized I had neglected one important thing when I explored Interspar (il supermercato) last night–breakfast food. I finally got out of the apartment at 1pm, an hour before our city tour was supposed to start, in search of a bar (cafe in the morning, remember?) that was open (on Sundays, next to nothing is open because of mass).

On the way to il duomo, we had to pass the stadium, where incidentally, there was a soccer match scheduled for a few hours later. Abby, Jordan, and I were walking along, and la polizia had closed off some streets to traffic, so we couldn’t take the way we were used to. We cut over a block, where a bus pulled up and began unloading its passengers–at least 30 or 40 rowdy, drunk men from Verona–onto the sidewalk a few hundred feet away from us. They all formed a line, and began peeing on the wall. It was probably the weirdest yet funniest thing I’ve seen so far. Abby kept walking until they started doing the usual–staring and catcalling–which was when we made the smart decision to cross the street. Only, we ended up going down the middle of the street, which attracted more attention to us. Oops. The men began to call out “Ciao, bella, ciao!” and started up what we can only assume was a soccer song–but sang it at us! Like, we were half a block away from them, and they were still laughing and singing it at our backs. Our first culture shock experience, really–and we just cracked up about it. Read more

2009
01/18
CATEGORY
Semester in Ferrara
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When in Ferrara, do as the Ferrarese

Castello Estense

I did not make that word up, Ferrarese is actually the local cuisine and the dialect that younger people speak here before they learn proper Italian. Apparently, the dialect has a Celtic influence and the words are different from Italian because they’re shorter and cut off.

Unfortunately, it is once more 2:30 in the morning (I’m afraid I’ll never get adjusted to the time) and I am wide awake–I have to be up by 9 tomorrow because I have my language test (so they can place me in one of the easiest classes possible).

This morning, at breakfast, I was informed that my family needed a couple of extra days to get ready, and I wasn’t going to move in with them right away. Instead, I was going to to Darsena City, the apartment/mall complex 15 minutes away from the hotel, where everyone who had chosen a dorm was staying. I went over with them, everything was fine up until a certain point, then it got a bit rocky, and then better.

Many of you have already heard about my panicky story today, so I’m not going to write it down (perhaps later) but if you’d like to know just ask. To sum it up:

1. I cannot speak Italian
2. It is a problem
3. Especially when I am by myself
4. I also got “locked out” of my apartment
5. Some Italian men attempted to harass me
6. I was okay in the end

(I’m also using some really nice man’s internet because when I asked him for the connection I must have looked like I was about to cry, because I was completely disconnected from everyone) Read more

2009
01/17
CATEGORY
Semester in Ferrara
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Prego: It does not mean pregnant

Via delle Volte (Street of the Arches)

First Italian lesson: the word prego. It means “you’re welcome,” but also “I’m here to help you” or “How can I help you?” So this morning, at breakfast, when the woman taking care of us said “Prego” I was like… I didn’t say thank you, what’s she saying you’re welcome for? However my roommate, Caroline, turned to me and was like, I hope that doesn’t mean that you’re pregnant, because I’m not.

Breakfast was also an interesting affair. The majority of mine involved ciocolatto–chocolate cornflakes, chocolate croissant, nutella on biscotti toast–at least I didn’t go for the chocolate cake. The milk is different here too, it’s served warm and is sweeter. Anyways, when the woman came up and said “prego,” and we looked at her like, “what?” She said “espresso?” So Caroline and I ordered espresso. I knew how it was going to come, but I guess I wasn’t fully prepared for what it was going to taste like. I could barely swallow it–it was so bitter. I spooned some milk and sugar in, but that didn’t change anything. Eventually, I got a mug of milk (which no one else was doing) and took a sip of espresso and used the milk to chase it down with. It was quite good after that.

After breakfast we headed out of the hotel to the CIEE Center, where they showed us the office and went over things (I love our director, he’s so nice, but he talks really fast and tends to repeat himself and get off topic, making him hard to follow sometimes) for several hours. Had a snackish lunch, and some more talking. I felt like falling asleep–I’m still not used to the time here. Then we had a scavenger hunt, where we basically did our own walking tour of the city to try and find specific locations, which was pretty difficult to be honest.

In a bit I’m heading back to the CIEE office so we can meet and get our prizes for the scavenger hunt, but then back to the hotel before we get “aperitivo” a little bit before dinner (another two hour thing for sure) but then I get to sleep! YES!

2009
01/15
CATEGORY
Semester in Ferrara
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Benvenuto a Ferrara!

Il Duomo di Ferrara

I tried to think of a witty sentence to kick off my first blog entry, but alas, my jet-lagged mind could not get that far. I began the first leg of my journey at approximately 6:10pm, when my plane departed from Newark, New Jersey.

Normally, I sleep quite well on planes, but to my dismay, I barely slept the entire 8-hour flight. I love screaming babies. Also, I love people who take over your armrest. And snore. And watch movies even when everyone else is trying to sleep.

The result: we landed, and I was completely disoriented. One, because it was still dark out (at 8am) and two, because my body thought it was 2am or something like that. Not cool. I manage to not fall asleep in the line for passkontroll (passport control) and the one for security. Well, almost. I made it all the way through the security line (they didn’t make me take my shoes off!), and was grabbing my bags when the security lady said I needed to scan mine again because I forgot to take out my laptop. She took my laptop and sent it back, but then I had to go back through the detector (against a line of people) and stick my bag back on the belt. Then I had to walk back through and wait for it again. The guy who waved me through must have thought I was about to cry, because he looked at me comfortingly and said, “It’s okay.” It was a nice gesture, but I just wanted to sleep.

I then had to wind my way up and down through the hallways of the Frankfurt flughoffen (I’m really just guessing on these spellings) to get to my terminal. After walking the length of it, I found a nice, quite place (as quiet as you can find in an airport, and that wasn’t very) and promptly passed out. I awoke at 9:30 (so achieved around 45 minutes of overall sleep), walked to my gate, and fell asleep again, this time for an hour. After waking up the second time, I walked the length of the terminal again, and decided it was time for breakfast. (Caramel Macchiato and a croissant! Expensive… I’m not doing that again.) BTW, Mom and Claire–I was walking to my gate when I saw a sign that said Gift’s–and I almost doubled over laughing. It made me feel right at home! Read more

2009
01/14
CATEGORY
Semester in Ferrara
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