1. Basilica di San Francesco
    view from the basilica
    lunch in Assisi
    view from Rocca Maggiore
    view from Rocca Maggiore

    medleymagazine:

    Assisi Trip, Sept 16 2011

    © Valentina Palladino 2011

     

  2. medleymagazine:

    Rocca Maggiore

    Assisi, Italia © Valentina Palladino 2011

     

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    Firenze per Fortuna, La Prima Settimana Pieno di Informazione

    As the first full week of classes comes to a close, I feel like I’ve never experienced a learning process such as this. Of course, living abroad is a totally new experience for me, and for most of the people studying at SUF. One of my friends said it best last night—we’re always learning. Every single day since we’ve left home, we’ve all learned something new, either about Italy, Florence, the Italian life, our new families and friends, or ourselves.

    I’m very excited for my classes, even though Option II Italian is going to be very challenging in a new way for me. It’s not that the work will be especially difficult (or, at least, I don’t believe it will be), but navigating the two levels of understanding needed to take the class will be interesting. Not only do we all have to understand what the professor is literally saying to us, the words that come out of her mouth, but we then have to comprehend and figure out what exactly she’s trying to teach us. We’re still in the prep stages of Option II, the part before the placement test in October, but it’s still mentally exhausting. Between that class and my host family, if nothing, I’ll be able to understand someone speaking in Italian to me perfectly by the end of the trip. Hopefully my verbal abilities will follow suit!

    Our host family, Lilita and Pedro (above), took Kelly and I up to Piazzale Michaelangelo over the weekend to see the gorgeous view. Kelly had never been, and it was awesome to see her appreciative reaction to the glory of seeing Firenze from such a beautiful point. We also visited an old church up near the piazzale, and then drove to Fiesole to have dinner and drive by their daughter’s home. Their daughter and her family live, literally, at the top of Fiesole, with possibly the most gorgeous view of Firenze. We also met their little grandson, Matteo, who is the most gorgeous, blonde Italian child ever! Kelly ed io siamo inammorate con Matteo :)

    Maybe it’s because I’ve been doing a ton of walking, but this week has been going by slowly during the days, but looking back it has gone by quite fast. My friends and I love exploring the city at night together; there’s so much to do and see, especially when you find yourselves in nooks and crannies of the city that seems to have been long forgotten.

    One of those seemingly forgotten places has become a regular stop for me—a tiny fruit shop I pass on the walk to and from school. It’s funny because it’s on a fairly busy street, but I never see too much of a crowd there. It’s owned by an cute, older Italian couple, and has the best fresh fruit anyone could ask for. Giant, golden apples, succulent pears, sweet peaches, plump, subtle fresh figs—anything you could want! I buy fruit there almost every day for some kind of meal. Today was my first experience with fresh figs (I’m a lover of dried figs already) and I must say, my mother has good taste (of course), considering those are her favorite fruit! Buonissimi!

    Overwhelming is the only way I can describe it, and now that we all feel comfortable enough with each other, my friends and I now have to process our personal relationships with each other, as well as classes, work, a new city, and a new life all at once. Sometimes it seems too overwhelming, so I think it’s best not to think of the whole picture in this situation. As Kelly would say, “We’re in fucking Florence, man!” And in each moment, that’s all that matters.

    FOTO: me with Lilita and Pedro, Piazzale Michaelangelo, © Valentina Palladino 2011

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    Firenze per Fortuna, Una Nuova Famiglia 9/8

    The first time I heard my host mother was when I heard her asking another girl if her name was Valentina.

    As we entered the larger lecture room in the Villa Rossa to meet our host families with the other students during out selected time at 4:30 p.m., I heard, and saw out of the corner of my eye, a women dressed in a stylish black dress with an orange brooch asking another student if he name was Valentina. I turned to Kelly and told her, wondering if I should say anything to her. I decided not to, and waited anxiously to be called, sitting only one row in front of her.

    Lilita reminded me of my nonna at first sight. She’s an older woman probably in her late fifties or early sixties, standing at a tad bit short than me with naturally golden Italian skin and pebble-colored hair. She was fanning herself the entire time we waited to be introduced.

    She was immediately warm and incredibly sweet to Kelly and I. She said, “Chi e Valentina?” And was so enthusiastic to see me, no doubt because she could tell how Italian my name is. Upon meeting her, I gave her the gift I had brought for the host family—a copy of the Italian children’s book I made in high school for my Senior Project. Her eyes widened as I told her, “Ho fatto questo libro durante liceo—un regalo per te.” Lilita was so impressed she started showing off the book to her friends as soon as we left the room to get our luggage. I was silently thrilled, and I also couldn’t wait for her to see Kelly’s gift. Kelly made her a glass plate, which, once I saw it, immediately reminded me of famous Venetian blown glass, it’s so gorgeous. I stand by my idea that handmade gifts are always better because of their personal touch and their ability to hold memories longer and stronger.

    We drove to Lilita’s apartment on the eastern side of the city. Her husband, our host father, Pedro, later compared the area in which they live to Manhattan in New York City—it’s the nicer side of downtown, also it’s also slightly quieter and safer as well. They live on the top floor of a small apartment building which, at first since we had to drag our luggage up three flights of stairs, was not exactly intriguing. But as soon as Kelly and I opened the large, wooden double doors to our new home, the stair issue quickly vanished from our minds.

    The apartment is big for Italian standards, and gorgeous inside. The foyer is the entire length of the apartment building, and is the entryway to the other six rooms of the apartment. Kelly and I share a room, which is larger than any double dorm room in Syracuse, and our room leads to one of the terraces overlooking the neighborhood rooftops. That terrace is also the home to a five-year-old black lab named Nerina, who was quick to welcome us by running straight into our room, into our arms, wagging her tail in excitement. The apartment also has a nice bathroom, a small kitchen with a laundry room attached to it, a large living room connected to the terrace on the opposite side, and, of course, Lilita and Pedro’s room. The only other room in the apartment is a small separate bedroom for the couple’s grandson, Matteo, who comes to visit every once in a while. After seeing his room, I knew I would love to meet him at some point during my stay, because he is an avid collector of legos and has a huge map on the wall next to his bed, with pen marks indicated the many places he’s traveled so far in his nearly eleven years of life. He already speaks three languages—molto intelligente.

    During first night with our new family, I probably spoke more Italian than I ever have in my life. Not only was I talking to Lilita completely in Italian, with the exception of asking how to say something in Italian, but I was also translating back and forth for Kelly, who speaks no Italian at all. Of course, according to Lilita, we’ll both be speaking completely in Italian within a month. I’m so glad that our family speaks very little English, even though it’s difficult sometimes and certainly mentally exhausting. But I can already see its effect on me, because I’m already speaking more and more to others in Italian, using it outside the house, and speaking involuntarily in Italian to answer certain questions as well—I’m even starting to think in Italian.

    Lilita made risotto with red peppers and chicken for our first dinner, and I was overjoyed.  Risotto is a creamy rice dish made by adding broth and wine to rice slowly, letting it absorb, and allowing the starch in the rice to make the dish creamy and almost smooth. It was so nostalgic because risotto is one of my family meals to make at home, and to have it authentically in Italy just reminded me of home so much. Needless to say, it was delicious, the chicken was wonderful, and the side dishes of salad, bread, and a small dessert of fresh fruit completed the meal.

    Together at dinner, Lilita and Pedro asked Kelly and I about everything—where we lived, what our families were like, what television shows and actors we liked, how we lived in Syracuse, everything. After spending the first night with them, both Kelly and I can tell they are wonderful people and, considering they have been hosting families since 2001, we can safely say they know what they are doing taking in two students from the United States. Pedro was even nice enough to take the bus with us the next morning to school to make sure we knew the way. I’m glad we can count on them to help us if we need it, and I’m really looking forward to getting to know them better—and maybe cooking with Lilita!

    FOTO: Villa Rossa, © Valentina Palladino 2011

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    Firenze per Fortuna, Partenza

    Travel day, or il giorno del viaggio, is upon us! After completely finishing my last bit of packing, I’ve been looking at old photos from my last trip to Italy to get myself in the right mindset. It’s hard to believe the photo of the Ponte Vecchio above was taken during my high school senior trip during spring break to Italy, over two and a half years ago. I was very different then, and I think I can safely say I’ll be going to live in Firenze now with a totally new set of eyes, a new mind, and a new heart.

    We found out about a little wrinkle in our travel plans (silly me, thinking traveling day would go off without a hitch, hah). Italians are notorious for strikes, or scioperi, and the biggest labor union in Italy is proving just how notorious the country’s workers can be by planning a strike on September 6th, my day of arrival, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. When I first heard this, I laughed, because of course things would happen this way, right? Long story short, just as the Italians are proving their propensity for strikes, SU Abroad proves just how prepared they can be when they need to change plans on the dime. We’ve been told that if the sciopero happens, our flight will be taking a connecting flight from Frankfurt to Nice, France, and then travel by bus to Firenze. Not too bad, and to be honest, I’d rather know this now than be told to wait for information in the Frankfurt airport. I’ll probably have a long day of travel ahead of me, but it’s a small price to pay. Myself and my flight mates will be able to bond intensely, hah, or, at least, we’ll have ample time to attempt a bonding experience. And, if we’re lucky, we could see some of the French Riviera on our ride to Firenze :)

    So for the next 24-48 hours, I’ll be bustling through terminals, check-ins, baggage claims, landing strips, and tour buses, in between at least two, possibly three, countries, with about 50-60 eager college students to get to the next four months of the rest of my life. Honestly, I am very excited. I’ve loved the process of traveling ever since I was a baby, I think it’s in my blood, and I’m going to make a point to be sure that nothing and nobody brings me down—unless it’s a landing airplane.

    Buon viaggio! Ci vediamo a Firenze!

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    Firenze per Fortuna, Partenza

     

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    T-4 days.

    Believe it or not, I was able to do what was once thought to be the impossible: pack all my essentials into one check-in suitcase! I did cheat slightly, thanks to my momma, who cleverly bought a swivel Samsonite slightly larger than my previous one, but those extra 3 inches made all the difference. I even have some room to spare, so I’ll be rearranging some of my stuff in the suitcase to try to move my yoga mat to the bottom, just for more practicality and neater packing in general.

    I’ve been seeing comments on Facebook about others planning to check in 2, even 3, bags, AND bringing carry-ons and purses. I always said that I would try my hardest to fit it all into one suitcase, mainly because I don’t want to pay the extra $70 to check in an additional bag, but also because I know traveling light is best. I’m responsible for my luggage, no one else, and I’m exercising some girl power, too, by making sure I’ll be the only one to roll/carry my bags to and from my destinations. Sorry, boys, I’ve got enough arm muscle to haul my own bags across the pond, and then some.

    I plan on traveling light beyond just bringing only one suitcase. This semester in Firenze will be a time for me to learn what “travel light” really means in all aspects of my life. Over the past two years, I’ve experienced a lot of things that added to my life’s baggage, some of which I had no control over, and some of which I did. Everyone has their own personal devils and personal relationship(s) drama to deal with, and I don’t feel like I’ve been dealing with it in the best way possible. I’m leaving all of that negative energy behind once I board that 9:40 p.m. airplane to Frankfurt, and from there to Firenze. I’ve mediated about it during yoga, I’ve wrestled with all of it in my mind on my own time, and the answer remains the same—negative energy has no place in my life, and I have the power to remove the causes of that negative energy. I don’t expect Firenze to change all my problems and insecurities, but I do hope it will help bring back some of that confidence and joy I feel I lost during the past few years. I’ve been traveling since I was little, and it’s always been a first love of my life; hopefully it can work it’s magic once again, with a little help from me.

    My mom has been asking me if I’m excited. I know deep down I am, but, like I keep telling everyone, it still hasn’t hit me yet! It’s definitely slowly hitting me because I’m starting to be unable to fall asleep as fast as I normal can, which is a sure sign something is on my mind. I feel pretty good about my situation, going into this semester with a few trips to Firenze under my belt, two solid maps of the city, and a basic knowledge of the Italian language. I think I’m in pretty good shape, and now that my luggage has been 99% packed, I’m feeling fairly thrifty as well :)

    “He who would travel happily must travel light.”—Antoine de St. Exupery

     

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    T-7 Days.

    It’s all there. Everything, all the essentials, I think I need to spend four months living in Firenze. Sans shoes and carry-on items, all of those things on and around my library’s leather lounge chair need to fit into one suitcase. I think I have a decent handle on things… now let’s just hope my luggage’s handle can hold up to the weight of my crap. I may have to sit on it to fully zipper up, but it’ll be a small price to pay.

    I can already tell from my packing attempt that this trip is going to be a learning experience for me in many, many ways. A small lesson will be in packing, but another will be in relaxation. Of this, I am certain, because I’m a workaholic. Hurricane Irene left my house without cable or Internet for about a day and a half, and while my mother was frustratingly coping with no news coverage, I was coping with the fact that I couldn’t access my work on my computer. Living in Firenze will be the ultimate challenge for me, as a workaholic, to time manage in a way I’ve never really had difficulty with before—balancing business with pleasure. I’ve always been able to have time for myself, in the ways what I want it, and balance my workload at the same time. Doing work for the publications I work for internationally and finding time to soak up all of the Fiorentina sun will be interesting. I’m going to have to do some sacrificing, some serious multitasking, or negotiate with The Big Man Upstairs to add additional hours to a day… or a combo of all three.

    Kurt Vonnegut wrote one of my favorite quotes of all time with, “Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.” No doubt, this trip will be one of my life’s biggest dancing lessons to date, but, as my friends will tell you, I always go out with the sole purpose to dance the night away.

     


  8. Desidero che vita florentina venga presto…

    Firenze non può venire abbastanza veloce.

    I feel like a new person since I’ve been accepted into the Florence study abroad program. I’ve wanted this since I considered Syracuse during the college application process, and now that my abroad experience is only a few months away… it’s overwhelming and exciting. Especially after this year, I cannot wait to get away, far far away from everything and everyone who I have interacted with and been affected by in a negative way.

    I’m learning more and more each day that we meet people in our lives who are supposed to teach us something, either about the world, ourselves, or both, but their use stops there. Sometimes we meet people in our lives who are supposed to only stay for a while, fulfill their duty, and then leave. If we don’t let these people go, their dead weight will bring us down. There’s a lot of dead weight in my life right now, and because of the atmosphere that I live in this year, I cannot remove myself totally until I go home for the summer. Only six more weeks, and I can finally leave the dead weight behind.

    Someone great once said we have to let go of the parts of life we honestly don’t want. Parts of my life that were helpful and beneficial a year ago are no longer positive for me anymore. And while I will be eternally grateful for the good times and experiences of the past that shaped me from these parts, I know now that if these parts are not removed I will be doing myself more harm than good. I can finally acknowledge those parts of life I honestly don’t want anymore.

    I usher in new beginnings with summer and a rebirth in a new country.