South Dakota and Back Again

Bobo’s Bubbles

I’m sticking to my promise of blogging at least once a week. The following is a short assignment for one of my classes here in London where we were asked to write about an experience here in London. It’s by no means profound, but I do hope it’s a bearable read!

Laundry day. The inevitability of this occasion had been looming over my head for a week. It was a grey Saturday: a perfect day for staying in and completing chores. This seemed to be the communal view of the flat. I came to the realization that the waiting list for the solitary machine in the basement was more than a few people, and therefore hours, in length. Having two roommates that also were in possession of remarkable amounts of laundry furthered my desperation. It was not long before we had made up our minds to buck up and made our way to our neighborhood laundromat.

Bobo’s Bubbles is a neighborhood laundromat. Despite the somewhat silly name, one that to me conjures images of clowns and cartoons, the establishment is a no-nonsense sort of place. My roommates and I immediately put ourselves to the task of managing the industrial sized washing machines. Coming up short on change, Carrie and I elected to buy snacks at the neighboring Sainsbury in order to break our larger bills. We returned with dark chocolate digestives and a fruity carbonated water of sorts. With all the cycles set, we sit down in plastic chairs with our books and escaped into diverging realities, or so it would seem from the outside.

There was no outward sign of our foreignness from what I could tell. So long as we didn’t reveal our American accents, we were one with the Earl’s Court neighborhood. I find that this is one of the best ways to observe, to watch people going about menial tasks all the while fading into the overall picture yourself. The establishment was run by a vaguely Middle Eastern woman who was quick to give us a smile but generally kept to herself. When we first arrived she would speak quietly with another woman in Arabic, their manner of conversation was familiar. The woman left after half an hour, leaving me to question their relationship. Where they friends  outside of the laundromat or was it a site-specific relationship? Or was the woman also an employee of the establishment, just in to do her own laundry on her day off? After her departure, there was a steady stream of patrons, many of whom either dropped off dirty laundry or retrieved bags with clean and folded clothing and linens. Only one other woman came in and stayed with her own laundry. She was foreign, perhaps Polish, and was only there to use the dryers, her clothes already wet and presumably clean. It dawned on me that maybe we weren’t as unobtrusive as I thought. Perhaps the customary thing to do here in London was to drop off your laundry and have someone else wash it. Maybe, by making such an event of using the Laundromat, we had already marked ourselves by being out of the ordinary.

Just then, something snapped me out of that line of thinking. I realize that a song by one of my favorite American country is playing on the radio. I look to the woman in charge and realize she is unfazed by this. Perhaps this American import isn’t all that startling. After all, McDonald’s, KFC, and Subway can all be found just down the street. Us being American’s does not automatically brand us as visiting foreigners. Here it does not mean that we are anything but non-native inhabitants in a city where, statistically speaking, most residents are not born in to begin with. 

I went into this laundry adventure expecting to come away with a few points how just how different London is from my American home. Instead the lesson I came away with has little do with with British identity. I realized that I don’t have to try to blend in to get a more authentic reading of this city. The “normal” way of doing things here is undefinably urban. That is to say that in a place this diverse, no one pattern of behavior can be held as customary.  Therefore, I will never be labeled as an outsider.

The long-overdue update

I’m in trouble. I know. I haven’t updated this blog in far too long. I suppose I should start with some over done rant about how I got caught up in my all-consuming abroad experience, but I don’t think that would be completely true. Yes, things in March really did get busy. Finals, Spring Break, and moving to London really did take up much of my time. The truth is I just got a bit lazy. Please feel free to free-load me with knowing smirks when you see me next. I fully know I deserve them :)

I am resolved to make at least one post a week from now until I return to the States. I pinky promise. (And I don’t break my pink promises, even if they are made on a virtual platform.)

Let me get you folks up to speed in a rapid manner. If you wish to hear more specific and thrilling adventures, I beseech you to message, call, or set up a coffee date with me at your earliest convenience! But the following should serve as a basic outline of my March.

1. I went on a day trip to Assisi. It protrudes from Italian mountains much like the fictional city of Gondor does in the Lord of the Rings. The view from the medieval fortress was the sort of magnificence that transcends human language. The kind of view that takes your breath away only to give you a lungful of fresh perspective on just how small you really are.

2. I spent a weekend with my dearest Macalester roommate Jenny in Tuscania. This tiny town is ripe with Etruscan ruins, friendly townsfolk, and fun! We had fantastic adventures together that included making friends with the local nuns, going to the black sand beaches of Montalto, and eating wild boar.

3. Our last ACM weekend trip took us to the sunken city of Venice. Though Murano, with its glass-making industry, was wonderful to explore, I didn’t really fall for Venice like many people do. I found the art to be magnificent and the canals quite picturesque, but its all-consuming tourist industry made the city feel a bit hollow to me. I am more than grateful to have had the opportunity to visit such a place, but sincerely doubt that I will ever return.

4. I survived the last week of finals, papers, and packing with the help of a very tangible reward: my parents arrival abroad! I picked them up at the Florence train station on Saint Patrick’s Day, positive that the luck of the Irish was on my side. I spent the entirety of my Spring Break with them in a cozy apartment literally next door to the Uffizi! We spent a full week in utter bliss as I played tour guide while they footed the food (and wine) bill. I can’t imagine a more fulfilling vacation. We were even joined by our German “relatives” for a good chunk of the week. Axel, Helga, Mom, Dad, and I were often the loudest in the restaurant on account of our laughter. (Make sure to take note of those names as Axel and Helga will be making another appearance on this blog as I shall be staying with them in Germany come May!)

5. My last day Italy was spent in Rome with my parents. I nearly walked them to death as we made our way from the Colosseum to the Pantheon and then all the way up to Vatican City. My last Italian dinner was shared with one of my dearest friends from high school Janell who happens to be studying in Rome for the semester. She took us to the most wonderful Roman gelato establishment and sent us back to our hotel with smiles on our faces.

I now live in London. But more on that in my next post :)

Rome is Closed part 2

Let’s see, where were we? Oh yes, I was telling you about the rest of my weekend in Rome. Well after a wonderfully toasty night’s sleep, we woke up to another few centimeters of snow on the ground. Rome, being generally of a more temperate Mediterranean climate, is ill equipped to handle that much snow. Seeing as none of the staff could make it to work, all of the museums were closed. Forced to make alternative plans, our group embarked on a walk through the eerily still city. As we waded through snow and slush towards the promise of the Colloseum, here are a few of the peculiar things we managed to observe:

1. Car traffic had come to a standstill, making Rome look more like the site of those cliche natural disaster or zombie movies. The streets were packed with people walking this way and that without the usual fear of being plowed over by those crazy italian drivers.

2. When  a snowstorm of the century comes around, you can’t tell whose the italian and who is the tourist. No, really! The snow was such a big deal that everyone was out taking pictures in it.

3. Snowball fights are an international affair. The snow was the PERFECT consistency for packing and throwing. I had one or two snowballs zoomed past me thrown by perfectly nice strangers.

4. Romans do not know what to do with a shovel. There were massive cleaning crews out to clear the sidewalks and roads and all they seemed to do was hack at the sidewalk without really clearing any snow at all. I suppose snow-shoveling skills are worth something after all.

5. God is always open for business. After walking around the snow-topped Roman Forum and the Colosseum, the only open “museum” we could find was the Basilica di San Clemente.

After a day spent outside in the slush and snow some of us girls made the executive decision to spend the rest of our evening where we could remain dry and warm. We spent almost three hours enjoying each other’s company at a local restaurant, complete with a multi course meal and wine. Sometime’s there is just no doubt that you are living the good life!

By the next afternoon we were all on the bus back home to Firenze. The ride was not without its share of scenery but I think my favorite part would have to be stopping at the Italian truck stop. Here, the truck stop is located above the highway. Oh and it is filled with high quality candy like you wouldn’t believe! We pulled into Florence just as the sun was setting knowing the weekend was well spent!

Roma chiude per neve! (Part 1)

No philosophical introduction or preface, today I am going to just dive into some storytelling about my weekend. 

My weekend started at 5:30 on the morning of Friday, the 4th of Febuary. Why so outrageously early you ask, well let me explain. My study abroad program is quite ingenious at creating field trips. This weekend’s “mandatory” field trip was an all inclusive adventure in Rome. (I put mandatory in quotations because you’d have to be a bit daft if you didn’t want to come.) Our high speed train left the station at 7am, dropping us of in the center of Rome close to 9am. The cab ride to the hotel was one of those surreal experiences where every time I looked out the window, I would see something ridiculously beautiful and ancient. Butterflies were abound in my stomach as we zoomed past Trajan’s column among other famous monuments. Giddiness set in and stayed my constant companion for the remainder of the day.

After settling into our hotel accommodations, we set off for the Vatican. It was a bit cold and rainy, but my excitement seemed to dull my sensitivities. After pausing in front of Castel Sant’Angelo, we made a beeline towards St. Peter’s Basilica. After half an hour of marveling at the outside, we made our way inside the cathedral, if only for a brief moment because our tour appointment was quickly approaching. Now I was under the impression that we would be taken around the Basilica and shown various important artistic achievements. So please imagine my surprise when we walked out of the church, outside, and around the side of the Vatican. We were taken past a very friendly Swiss Guard who let us through the gates into a usually restricted area behind the Basilica itself. We were then split into two groups and taken underground to the Necropolis. For those of you who aren’t aware, the Vatican was constructed on the resting place of Saint Peter (an apostle of Christ and accredited as being the first pope of the Roman Catholic Church). The Basilica itself was built on an ancient pagan cemetery. Excavations ordered by Pope Pius XI revealed a massive complex of Roman tombs directly underneath the Basilica’s nave. We were were guided through the “city of the dead” passing ancient frescos and mosaics along the way. The tour ended at a recently excavated portion of the hill directly underneath the high altar of the Vatican. It was here that we saw the earthly remains of Saint Peter, which I have to say was a deeply moving experience. We then progressed up towards the ground floor of the Basilica, through the catacombs of the popes, and then up a narrow stairway. This staircase ended at the base of a monumental sculpture in a niche not 30 feet from the high altar of the Basilica. Goodness I got the chills for the umpteenth time that day while literally coming out of the walls of the Vatican.

After basking in the glory that is the Vatican (no matter your personal religion, it truly is a wondrous place with incredible art),  a few friends and I decided to venture outside. It was snowing!!! The snow was of the magical variety, making the entire world look like a living snow globe and accumulating on just about everything. I was positively goofy with happiness at this point. We frolicked in the snow, not caring that it was cold and we were drenched. After a somewhat treacherous walk to the Vatican Museums, we dried off while eating a bagged lunch. (My host papa Fabio had provided me with a veritable bagged feast complete with a Roquefort cheese sandwiches and chocolate.) We then sped through the museum, glancing at the Laocoon, the Hall of Maps, Raphael’s frescos, and eventually the Sistine Chapel. For disliking painting as much as he did, Michelangelo sure did an impressive job in the Chapel!

We made our way home in 2 inches of slush as the snow continued to fall. After a warm dinner we reclined in our rooms with wine, completely content with the way the day had been spent.  

More on the rest of the weekend to come!

Sorprese Italiane (Italian Surprises)

Here is a short list of things that have taken me a bit by surprise here in Italy

1. The shower does not have a shower curtain. Instead, the bathtub fits into the narrowing of two walls in the corner of the bathroom, effectively partitioning the shower from the rest of the bathroom.

2. No matter how much they attempted to warn me, the churches are always surprisingly colder that the outside temperature. Perhaps the constant shivering deters one from being too jovial in the solemn space…

While we are on the subject of temperature….

3. In Italian winter, my feet will always be cold. The cobblestone streets, marble walkways, and terra cotta floors seem to emanate a frigid coolness that renders my toes into veritable icicles…

4. Dinner will always make my day. Ahh the joys of being in Italy and having a full three course meal every evening,

5. Cheese is cheap. I can get a slice of Rochefort enough for three people for a Euro. Enough said.

6. Morning coffee is made the night before. The Italian way of making coffee is to brew a pot of expresso (yes, real expresso) over the stove. Our host mother makes a batch the night before, which we then add milk to and heat the next morning. 

7. The tap water has a pretty high calcium content. Great for growing long nails and strong bones! Not so great for the inevitable scalp build up….

8. When asked what they associate with the United States, Italians will inevitably respond with one of the following three answers: Obama, Chuck Norris, or MacGyver. Apparently Chuck Norris jokes are as popular here as they are back in the states!

9. Turkey is in. A common protein in the Italian diet, mercifully unregulated by the dictates of  the American Thanksgiving tradition.

10. McDonalds is EXPENSIVE! No really, a cheesburger is 7 Euro. How refreshing it is to live in a country in which healthy, fresh food is more affordable than Mickey D’s.

and last but certainly not least

11. No matter how many churches, museums, monuments, or country towns I visit, I never get used to how incredibly beautiful everything is here!