Vertigo (with picture)

Cinque Terre refers to 5 towns that grasp the land upward from the Mediterranean Sea. They are small and naturally exhausted with tourists, but not as much as Rome or Florence. Cinque Terre is where the Italians go to vacation, and the Germans, and the French, and the Swiss. It is a jewel. And honestly, I don't like thinking of it as an it. It is 5 towns. And I loved them all. Maybe Corniglia the most, but I try not to play favorites.
All of this is beside the point; this post is about heights, balance and, well, the two never meeting.
I have vertigo. Escalators make me stop breathing. Railings need to have something solid under them blocking the dizzy below. I never go above three steps of a latter.
Most people take it as a fear of heights, which it is in part, but it is a fear that stems from the fact my head starts swimming and I think I'm falling. And I can't move.
Cheryl and I did Cinque Terre backwards. Most people start in Riomaggore and move towards Monterosso. Not us. I became reacquainted with my long time friend, Vertigo, somewhere outside of Vernazza going towards Corniglia. I stepped out onto the path, way up high, and the world disappeared next to me. No tree, no handrail, nothing to filter the void, no balance. And everything spun away from me. All control, reason, the normals that keep me pieced together. But I crossed that narrow trail. Turned around, and came back. Losing balance, but at least, not losing time too. Who knows, maybe next time I'll just keep walking, claiming the spinning air for my own, making it all the way to the Corniglia in time for sunset.

Cinque Terre

In brief, I feel like civilization came crashing onto a shore one day. Beautiful is an understatement.

But I have little time and computer problems . . . so more to come with pictures that will not do it any justice.

Going to Rome and then Sicily. I'm not vanishing, just on vacation.

And I need to tell the tale of towel thievery . . .  

Venice pictures — revisit

Some more pics for your viewing pleasure . . .

Rome — through my eyes

Forget words, this is what you really want. Click for larger view. Also look for the fabulous balloon pine.

semester end

Last night we had our last supper with the students at the Golden View Osteria. Fantastic food and time. The restaurant glowed with the luminous, candle, goldeness. Our area overlooked the Arno and it was a perfect setting for a series of goodbyes.

Naturally, we all went out later and they bought me drinks, told me what they were going to do with their lives, revealed dreams. Several were upset at the thought of losing contact with each other. I reminded them it isn't necessarily the place, it is the connection. Most of us share the desire to stay. I saw fear on some faces when thinking of their American life. They have changed here. I know this, because Europe changed me when I was their age. Maybe they are the same people, but their perspective has altered. A strange thing to witness in others.

To say that I will miss them all doesn't really express what I feel — especially in regards to my student assistants. Being around so much youth and energy . . . It isn't that I want to be young again, but capturing one moment to go back to every few years would allow for air and assessment. And that is what I'll miss about this first group — the lessons they taught me, access to their energy and the brilliant creative enigmatic personalities of a few. They actually made me feel better about the future. If they represent the generation to follow, then maybe it isn't going to be so bleak.

Naturally I took pictures, but forgot to bring them in today. And Cheryl is coming tomorrow and work is out for me. But I will pop in and try to keep you posted on my real vacation time! Cinque Terre, Rome (again) and Sicily — here I come.

Communication breakdown

I deleted most of what I've written. Sorry for the vagaries, but the details are, for lack of a better word, complicated.

Just know this, for a girl who has always been just one of the guys — learning how to be myself without a firm grasp on the language without misleading, misunderstanding and complete chaos is very difficult.

Back to listening to the language course. Going to take the Italian class here everyday NO MATTER WHAT.

Never again do I want to hurt someone's feelings because I can't communicate. But I'm not willing yet to succumb to complete remove.

Scoppio del Carro

For the past 300 years or so, Florence celebrates Easter with an explosion. They build a fire using ancient chips from the Holy Sepulcher and then send a flame via a dove-shaped rocket to ignite a cart (built in the 1600s) full of fire works and pulled by white oxen. Then fire works to the delight of everyone. Scoppio del Carro = explosion of the cart.

I have looked forward to this for months. I love fireworks (even if during the day) and it seems like such a remove from Easter egg hunts and fluffy bunnies. Sadly, I missed it. I did wake up. Yet failed to resist the urge to stay in bed, not fight crowds, risk further sickness due to impending showers and working that evening. Because I'm exhausted. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've not been writing to you all. The long hours, a constant struggle with communication on all levels, helping nerve-addled students with papers, and tons of other factors have sucked the energy right out of me. That and the realization that I only have a little over 3 months to go here. Here. This place heavy in history, culture, the past — yet, the day of resurrection — ignition. And I choose to sleep.

—- As a post thought —- The day held some redemption for me. At around 2 a.m. there was a drum circle going on in Santa Croce. I could hear it from my bedroom. Pulsing, rhythmic, celebratory, passionate beat. Music and dance — the great communicators. Reminding me to not miss anything else. Sloth no more.
OH, and I changed the look of my site because some things were not showing up (like blogrolls). Feedback is appreciated.

(more on communication breakdown later)

the subtle clicking of industry

So, this week is the next to last week of my first semester here, and 12 hour days are spent listening to the sound of students diligently (at last) typing up their papers, journals, exams. I'm reminded of the modern day equivalent of a scene from Good Night, and Good Luck where all the reporters are meeting deadline and the constant click of typewriters. A sound I must admit to missing — typewriters seem more zealous in their effort. Luckily, my extended work time has the benefit of the study center's courtyard where an ancient wisteria vine is finally blooming. So for a break from such industry, I just walk downstairs or look out the library window. All of these months without a tree and I finally get a vine that may surpass them all. Italy in the Spring — a unique reward. I wish I could send you all a moment. At some point I'll post a picture of the vine.

By the way, speaking of industry, congratulations to Eric who is going to walk the noble path of librarianship this Fall in Champagne-Urbana (with a great assistantship). Bravo and you rock! 

If you want to read more on sin (with great pictures) Shelby will be going into detail and posting photos from her trip. Eventually I'll get around to posting mine, but work will not wait today.

Redemption, I hope

After a week of exploring the 7 deadly sins, I have to admit that I was ready for it all to stop. Dante explores the depths of The Inferno for a reason. For those of you wondering, so did I (and Shelby too). It is not just for debauchery and fun (well, perhaps slightly at first) but with me there is always a chance to seek meaning — at least symbolic meaning. And I did. I will not share everything I learned here, but I do want to say life is best lived honestly. Honesty with yourself and gentle honesty with others. Not something I didn’t know, but perhaps something I needed reminding of.

And everyone should think of rewriting the sins. A modern day version is needed. It occurred to me that carelessness is not one of them. It needs to be. Carelessness of action, thoughtless expressions — it isn’t that we should try to control everything we do; rather we just should think about it first.

The good thing, beyond new knowledge and a fantastic week with Shelby in Florence, Fiesole, Venice and Rome (more on all of those later) is that it is over. The seven deadlies are behind me and I feel like I am better for it. Sure, I’ll commit a few as I go along, but now I’ll be more aware of their impact.

Spring (updated)

Just a quick update.

Spring, spring, spring, spring.

Cloudless skies silhouette Dante's glare.

Sinning really means something when he is looking down at you.

(Picture courtesy of Shelby)