Conclusions

With everything going on during my last few days in Italy-- finals, running around buying last minute Christmas gifts, going to Venice durante l'acqua alta (Saint Mark's at left), hanging with the host family, last parties with beloved friends, packing everything into two bags, and emotionally preparing myself for leaving what has been the best time of my life-- and with Christmas and whatnot, I haven't had much time to conclude this blog.

The last few days were really a blur of emotion. Saying goodbye to people-- first our teachers at the party (lower right) they threw for us, then some of our friends who left on other flights, then our host families and friends who were staying behind, and finally the friends we rode with to JFK-- was ridiculously draining. I cried several times, and was a bit shocked at myself, because I'm generally not a crier (at least not in front of others). Saying "ciao" for the last time (at least in a while; I like to think I'm going back to Padova) to people like Maria Pia, Luisa and Agostino, Francesco, and Sona, Alex and Alex (who are staying in Italy next semester), was heart-wrenching just because I know I won't be able to easily see them.

As the bus drove away and we all looked back at the group on the sidewalk, and a bunch of us were crying, Giacomo (below left) did something that instantly put a spark of life and laughter into everyone's hearts: he pulled out his violin and started playing.

At the airport was a little crazy for people who had over-packed (I miraculously didn't have to pay for overweight baggage!), the ride to Paris was easy, and DeGaulle was pretty much a pain as usual. The French security guards are definitely the least friendly in Europe, and the sheer size of the airport makes transfers a rush. Our flight to JFK was delayed, so I ended up sitting on the ground playing briscola (Italian card game) with Nicole and the two Andreas (I definitely brought Nicole down).

The flight over the Atlantic went smoothly. I was too drained, and too tired, to focus on leaving. I still felt like I was just going on another weekend trip with all my friends. I saw with Liz and Nicole, watched Wall-E and Brideshead Revisited, slept, ate, etc etc.

JFK: customs was fine. I don't think anyone had a problem. When we came out all our parents were waiting for us, mine included. Everyone who lived close enough to New York had parents embracing them and asking about their life for the last 4 months, but we of course all found time to say goodbye to everyone. I thought I was going to cry for sure, but was just too tired to do so. One thing that was really funny: Annette and I were trying to say goodbye to Michael and he kept going around to everyone else first, and Annette pointed out that he probably wanted to say goodbye to us last. :) My parents actually ended up driving him to his hotel so he didn't have to take the airtran shuttle thing, and my mom still raves about how much she liked him.

I was lucky that saying goodbye to Annette wasn't REALLY goodbye, as we were going to hang out in the city a few days later. Saying goodbye to Michael was really hard, and after leaving Sona in Italy, I don't know if I'd have been able to handle a third heartbreak.

I got back home pretty late, around 2 am probably, and was really excited to see Foxy and my sister. We all stayed up for a little bit and I think everyone went to sleep around 3-4. I woke up at 6 because I couldn't sleep, but fell asleep again at 10 for a little bit.

Readjusting to American life was much harder than adjusting to Italy. I felt more jetlagged, and I actually felt resentful for a week or so. I got angry if my parents asked about Italy when I was in a particularly sad mood, I didn't want to eat American food, and I resented aspects of American culture that I didn't have to deal with in Italy.

Luckily, Christmas was coming and provided a distraction. I didn't have time to mope around and contemplate my new sad existence; I had to wrap the gifts I bought people, I had to bake cookies, I had to decorate the tree. Those things were a lifesaver.

Looking back on the last four months, I can't possibly describe it in words. My biggest fear came true: I wouldn't be able to accurately recount the experience to people who haven't experienced it. While I can tell my parents and friends about what life was like, they can't understand because they haven't lived it, and no one can understand what it meant to me. Luckily, it's relatively easy to keep in touch with my abroad friends via Facebook, e-mail, text, whatever, so I won't ever be completely alone when I need to think back about Padova. For anyone abroad, just remember how important it is to stay in touch with the people you grow to love, because while your friends and family from home will want to hear about your experiences and will maybe try to relate, they'll never fully grasp what you lived.

Italy was the most amazing time of my life, as I've said many times already. I owe so much of the experience to BU for creating such a fantastic program in every aspect. The staff that runs the CIES is stellar (Maria Pia is probably my favorite person ever), the host families they choose are loving, helpful, kind-hearted, lively families that made us feel at home, and the excursions and information they provided us made our knowledge and understanding of Italian culture much more complete.

I know things would have been different had I stayed for more than a semester, and I'm sure it would have been more difficult had I remained behind while all my friends left. I talked about these things with Annette during our last night in Padova. We were coming back from St. John's Pub, where everyone had engaged in last-night karaoke partying, and we decided to stand on the Signori steps for one last night. We talked about how much Padova meant to us and how we knew, logically, it had to end the next day. However, the fact that it's over still rips at my heart, and I miss it every day.

I do miss Italy every day, especially now that the holidays have ended and I have to go back to Boston soon. It lives with me in my heart, in my pictures, in my comments with friends on Facebook walls or in text messages, but it is still painful that it's over.

I learned something very important, and very cliched, from my life in Padova. Regardless of how many people say it, the old "Live each day to the fullest" mantra is ridiculously true. Italy taught me to enjoy every day for something, even if it's something small, because every day is a gift, and life should be enjoyed. Americans focus too much on the future-- on work, on planning, on what they have to do tomorrow-- that they forget to enjoy the present.

Moreover, your life can change at any minute, in a drastic way that will rearrange your priorities, your environment, your social circle, everything. Whether you see it coming (like we did), or not, it will happen. So you should enjoy the most of every experience while you have it. Love the people you love, enjoy yourself, have fun, and laugh, because in the end, these are the only things that will matter.

Studying abroad changed my life. I wouldn't change one minute detail about my experience, and I hope anyone reading this blog feels, or will feel (after studying abroad!) the same way. My advice for any students who are on the fence about going abroad: do it. Never again will you have the option to explore another life with the help and guidance of people who understand what you're going through. Go out into the world, into the unknown, and live. You might not know anyone when you get there, you might not know the city-- you'll have to find out where the grocery store is, where the mailbox is, and the best route to get to school/work-- and you might not know the culture, but you'll get to know, and get to love, all of them. And that's the best part.

L'autoritratto

For one of my last pictures, I wanted to do a self portrait (that's me in the pink coat). However, I didn't want to do a solo self portrait, as much of my life here would not have been possible, or would have been much worse, without the friends I made, the family I made, at BU. I rarely led a solitary life in Italy; the culture's importance on friends and family definitely affected my life. Without my host family, my teachers, and most importantly, my friends, I don't know what I would have done.

Sitting on the cobblestones, under the Christmas lights, while the camera shot a long exposure, I wished I could freeze my life in time just as I knew the camera would freeze our moment.

I do not want to leave Italy at all! This has been the best time of my life, and it's ending in a few days. I feel like a part of me is dying in a way, no matter how dramatic that sounds. I know this experience would have been different had it lasted for more than a semester, and I know it will always live in my memory, but I can't help but feel immensely sad at the thought of it ending.

La notte di Padova

It's Christmas time and the whole city is decorated. In fact, it seems like all of Europe is decorated. From Paris to Prague to Padova, lights illuminate the dark winter nights. Padova looks ever more gorgeous with the addition of its lights, and their addition makes the night so alluring I just had to take my tripod out and do some night photography.

The first photo is the clocktower in Signori that I photographed before. The majesty of Italy and the beauty and culture of Padova are all displayed right here.

The second is my house. In fact, the window right above the street lamp and that to the right of it are my two windows. This building means so much to me, and just looking at the photograph makes me think of the wonderful people I've grown to love and the wonderful experiences I've lived inside it. Looking down Via N. Sauro, with little lights stretched over it like a brilliant canopy, I fear the time when I will not be able to walk down its curving cobblestones to what lies beyond.

The third is a market, abandoned during the night. Although a pile of garbage sits outside the simple white tent, the way the light comes through is quite beautiful and rivals the bulbs on the Palazzo della Ragione, its much more elegant neighbor. The Piazza is no longer an empty space, but a camp of ghostly tents that remind us of the liveliness they enjoy during the day.

While it is exciting to see Italy transformed for Christmas, it's bittersweet also, because with Christmas, comes my return to the US, a day I know I will be sad to greet.

Al mercato

As I was saying in my last post, nothing better epitomizes Italy than market culture. Padova is transformed almost daily into a bustling center of commerce. Its piazzas, usually full of tiny cafe tables for customers leisurely snacking, transform into colorful, crowded, somewhat chaotic centers of trade. Whether you want fruit, veggies, meat, cheese, flowers, a new jacket, a cheap dress, handbags, scarves, or even underwear, it's on some table in the Padovan market.

This photo shows three little hot air balloons, made of ceramic, featured at a stall where an artist was displaying handmade crafts during the Christmas season. The way they were hanging was what drew me to them, and I thought they were the perfect symbol to choose to represent what Padova means to me.

My experience in Padova has really taken me high into the clouds. I've been taken higher in terms of my intellectual experience, my social experience, my emotional experience, my life experience. This experience, ending in less than a month, has been the experience of a lifetime, and I dread thinking about the day when I will be forced to call it only a memory instead of life.

Il cane: il migliore amico del padovano

Dogs own Padova. In the streets, in my apartment building, under the tables in cafes, walking loosely in shops, they're everywhere, and more importantly, they are accepted everywhere.

What else in Padova can compete with the presence of its beloved canines? Shopping, anyone?

Shopping, whether in Via Santa Lucia's international stores, or in Via Roma's small boutiques, or in the magnificent La Rinascente department store. A staple of Italian culture, Rinascente, and shopping in general, is more than a way to fulfill a consumerism drive in people with too much money. Shopping, whether in the store or outside its windows, is a social activity for Italians. Even when they're not spending, but just peering through glass to see the latest and greatest work by Valentino or Versace, Italians are usually found with a friend or spouse, commenting on what shoes they like, what color jacket they'd choose, and so on.

So when I saw this beautiful German Shepherd (or Alsatian) sitting so demurely while its owner, carrying a Rinascente bag, looks through market stalls (probably THE most beloved shopping forum, at least in Padova), I knew it was the perfect combination for una foto.

Adventures in Eastern Europe

Prague: Where time doesn't pass.

Sona and I did Prague solo. A bunch of the other girls were doing Vienna, but both of us really wanted to get to the Czech Republic so we figured we'd just do it on our own.

We got there Friday afternoon, checked into our hostel, wandered around the Staromestka Namesti (Old Town Square) Christmas market, and basically walked around Prague for hours. That first night, time would not pass, and we found ourself doing almost a complete tour of Prague's old city, with time to spare for a market dinner and shop-browsing. We even killed an hour or so warming up to some coffee in none other than...Starbucks.

The next day we did an American style breakfast (potatoes, bagels, you name it!) at Bohemian Bagel, which was literally around the corner from our hostel, and saw the Astronomical Clock, the Mucha Museum (very exciting for me, Mucha has been a favorite artist since high school), more Christmas markets, Jewish ghetto, some shopping on St. Wenceslas Street, and more random wandering. We tried to do a free walking tour of Prague, but after the legacy instilled in our minds by Cal in Berlin, the Prague tour just didn't compare, so we just hopped off and did our own thing. Later, we had dinner at a Thai restuarant (again, 2 min walk from hostel) and saw a Czech rock band cover English hits in an underground jazz club (30 second walk?).

The next day, we took on Prague Castle, the largest castle complex in the world. An outstanding experience was seeing the stained glass windows in Saint Vitus' cathedral (one by Mucha). Later that night we ate dinner at Red Hot N' Blues, a New Orleans-style restaurant serving Cajun and Mexican food. We had been craving Mexican food for so long and hadn't been able to find it in Italy, so that was a much-awaited treat. In addition, an excellet musical duo was playing. Jonathan Goudet, a guitarist and singer, and a Czech harmonica player whose name I did not get, played blues and jazz while we ate, making the atmosphere completely perfect.

Prague, a city that seems to be ripped from a fairy tale, is enchanting and charming, its people warm and kind, and its history deep. I'm so glad I chose to go there instead of Vienna; nothing against Vienna, but Prague has been on the top of my travel list for awhile. Having a friend like Sona, who is content wandering and finding new, not necessarily talked-about things to see, with me was what made the whole trip complete.

Hostel: Hostel Tyn.
Excellent, fabulous location; located behind the noticeable Cathedral Tyn, it's literally 1 minute from the main square in Prague's Old Town. The staff was helpful and friendly (the guy even let us leave a deposit in Euros instead of Crowns so we wouldn't be stuck with 200 crowns at the end of our trip). You can get private rooms but have to share a bathroom, though it's okay because you see people cleaning them each morning.

The rooms reminded me of what I think a summer camp room would look like, and I made it a point to make camp jokes throughout the weekend (mostly about my 4th grade boyfriend Billy, who never existed and was instead restrospectively imagine by my 21-year-old self). Unfortunately, the beds felt like what I expect camp beds to feel like: wooden planks. I woke up with a sore back the first morning we were there and after a nap, and on the second and third nights had to sleep with half of the very large pillow under by back. If you can deal with the planks, it was a good value, and the location can't be beat.

Paris: une cité en fait très belle

Paris: que magnifique.

I thought Paris was going to end up being really overrated. We see it in movies, we hear about it in romances, we see the Eiffel Tower replicated in Las Vegas and Tokyo. The city couldn't possibly live up to what its depictions in all forms of media have laid out.

I was wrong. A beautiful, charming, magnicifent city was waiting for me when I made my way from Charles de Gualle to my hotel in La Marais. Annette and I were traveling alone, and we got into Paris around 3 p.m. on Thursday, Thanksgiving Day. Our hotel was in Marais, an up-and-coming hip area with equal parts ridiculously small grocery stores and trendy boutiques, and was a decent bargain for what we paid. We had a queen bed, our own bathroom, towels, a chair and table, and a window with a tiny tiny balcony looking onto a very French-looking street.
We spent Thanksgiving eating soup in Les Soupes (GO THERE), a place run by a flamboyantly awesome guy who served us some pumpkin, cheese and broccoli, and lentil and coconut soup, with great bread and free water (the latter being not always available in European restaurants). After eating, we made our way to see Paris from new heights, that is, from the top of the Tour Eiffel. I conquered my fear of heights and was able to glance the majesty of this beautiful city from the top of its most famous symbol.

The next few days were a blaze of beautiful art, delicious food, lovely scenery, Christmas lights, steps steps and steps, and, one of my favorite things about Paris-- beautiful men. Annette and I did so many things in just a few days that we were both saying how proud of ourselves we were after we got back to Padova. If anyone is considering going to Paris for seeing all the major sights, please, please please get the Paris pass! It covers just about everything you could want to see except the Eiffel Tower. For a quick idea of how much we did: Day 1-- Saint Chappelle, Notre Dame, including towers, the Louvre (greatest hits tour), Champs-Elysees and Arc de Triomph, dinner in a small, authentic French restaurant. Day 2-- Pere Lachaise Cemetery (do not go without a map and a lot of patience), Montmarte, Sacre Couer, the Rodin Museum, the Musee d'Orsay, Orangerie, dinner on the Champs Elysees, and a half-night of sleep before catching a plane out of De Gualle at 8 a.m. the next morning.

It's no surprising, after having visited Paris, to see why it played foster home to so many ex-patriots, especially artists and writers. You can feel the inspiration around you when you visit the French capital, whether found in the Louvre's endless galleries, the way all the buildings are illuminated at night, or the way the French enjoy relaxing with their bread, their wine, and their friends.