Such A Small World

"Friendship is the golden thread that ties the heart of all the world."

Sometimes we strive so hard to find happiness. We decide after we successfully accomplish something, we will be happy, or, we will have the right to be happy. Living in Italy has helped me realize to be truly happy, you can’t tie it to material objects or measures of success, you must tie it to your outlook on life; the people you surround yourself with, the joy you can allow yourself to feel when doing the most basic activities; talking a walk, singing in the rain with friends, sharing a glass of wine under the stars. 

The last two weekends I got to spend with my friend Andrea from Reggio Calabria. He was in Rome taking his GREs and IELTs (English tests). His plan is to go to Penn State to study next year! This amazes me, absolutely amazes me. The world is so small, I mean, after meeting just over a year ago from a crazy study abroad experience, I  have made one of the dearest friends in my life. Now, not only are we together in Italy, but we will be together in America. The memories we make will last a lifetime & I love knowing that not even that big pond can separate us. TVB <3

Finding Chu Pito

“So here’s to all those summer nights 
when my feet hit the sand, 
the waves break my fall, 

and my friends out number the stars.”

Tonight marks the beginning of Summer in Ostia as the discos (dance clubs) on the beach open up for the season. I'm slightly nervous, as this is a new world to me, but excited as I recall the many evenings I spent with some beautiful friends at the discos in Reggio...

Dancing on the beach, next to the Mediterranean.

Cold drinks (expensive, but cold)

Great friends...

La Bella Vita... 

And how can I forget our "spot?"

Ahhh Chu Pito...

...Chew what?

Chu Pito - the infamous “shot bar” in Reggio. Literally, a complete hole-in-the-wall. The size of a small bedroom, packed with bottles of alcohol, sweaty, greasy Italians, and bartenders who could quite possibly out-rank any professional mixologist.

Chu Pito.

This is where it started. 

All of our summer nights spent dancing in Calabria along the shore of the Mediterranean.

“Posso avere una Margarita?” 

I laugh thinking about my first attempt ordering my first “drink” in Calabria. In my hot pink halter dress my mom bought me from Victoria’s Secret...the bartender was certainly not listening to me, just starring at my chest.

Probably a good thing though, I sounded utterly ridiculous trying to annunciate and pronounce my Italian phrase - they could tell I was American and it was embarrassing.

I can only hope that now I sound a bit more Italian - and less like an American!

From that moment on, our nights in Calabria relied on our pre-game at Chu Pito. And often on our way home, we relied on Chu Pito for a bathroom stop, or a much-needed water break :)

Our first stop at Chu Pito came after our group dinner at Via Veneto, my favorite place to eat in all of Reggio! There, we met our new friends who would make our Summer 2010 unforgettable. 

When we ventured out into the evening, Chu Pito seemed nothing more than a typical Italian bar (cafe in our minds), but it quickly became a favorite meeting point, a familiar spot for us all.


Tonight, as I begin my summer in Rome, me and my friend Sabrina will walk along the marina, and stop for a drink somewhere.


Will it be quite like Chu Pito? Absolutely not.
There is only one Chu Pito!
But, if there's one thing I'm sure of, wherever we go, I'll have a chance to make new friends and find a new "spot". A spot that could become my new Chu Pito where lots of memories will be made and smiled upon when I look back on this summer, Summer 2011.


This is true for everyone. Memories are not made because of where you go, or the places you frequent- memories are made by the the people you're with - together, you create the memories that last a lifetime.

Fulfilling Our Dreams

 Who ever says dreams don't come true? 

A dream is a wish your heart makes...and believe me, I'm a perfect example of conquering your fears and fulfilling your dreams, as is my friend Travis! 

On one of our final days together in Reggio last summer, Travis and I stood on a balcony over looking the sea, and the beautiful beach of Scilla.

Together, we promised each other we would return to Italy.

On Saturday, our promise to one another came true!

We both have returned to Italy; venturing off onto two different paths, but our promises, our dreams, came true.

I was thrilled to be with him in Rome. It was nice having a familiar face around! We ate Italian food, drank some wine (and some more wine), traveled around Piazza Venezia, and finished our evening eating gelato in front of the Pantheon...

The beauty of Italy is something we both treasure.

I’m excited for his adventures, and although we are missing many links to our Summer 2010 group, the memories remain in our heart, and on our minds constantly!

Conquering My Fear...Cutting My Hair In Italy~

Ieri, mi sono tagliate i capelli

Before leaving for Italy, I had dinner with one of my dearest friends. Jill has been my friend since we were 14, and I have gone to her with all of my problems, including hair issues!

She was the first to cut my hair (taking a whopping nine inches off in the Spring of 2008) and to this day, has remained the mastermind behind this lovely mop on my head.

When we met in Grove City, I told her my biggest fear....

Getting my hair cut in Italy! 

Ok, this might not be my BIGGEST fear, but it’s a close second...

How would I be able to survive without her? She knows my style, what looks good on me and what doesn’t...AND here’s the biggie: she can speak English, fluently.

I mean, I’m not sure, but being able to express to your stylist how you want your hair to look is pretty important.

But I braced my fears, and the fear of split-ends and I went to una parrucchiera “Mito’s”.

And.... 

here is the result!!

I don' think I need a bag over my head!

Ok, so I conquered the Italian hair salon...next up, conquering my Italian book "Batte il cuore"

This is going to take a while......

The Simple Joy of A Child

“If you carry your childhood with you, 

you never become older.” 

Tom Stoppard, Brittish Playwright 1937

I was blessed as a child to have a loving family dedicated to bringing me joy and happiness every day. My childhood was filled with many memories of happy, joyous days; trips to the park and to my grandma’s house, Disney shows on ice, weekends in Pittsburgh, Christmas celebrations, birthday parties...the list goes on. 

Even as I grew older, my brother and I knew we could always count of our parents to support us and to this day, they continue to give us the world. 

Childhood is a precious time in every life, and I’m beginning to realize that even more as I interact with a young child every day. I see the happiness the simplest things bring her; like a coloring book, or freshly-picked flowers from the side of the road.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all have the joy a young child feels day in and day out? As I watch Bea play, and tell stories to her parents, I’m immediately filled with happiness just seeing her smile.

This morning, I had Bea all too myself as her mom is in Texas and her dad had to fly to Milan this morning. Since she is so young, I know the sadness she feels when she wakes up and neither of her parents are here to greet her, but with patience and warm milk, her sadness evaporates to happiness (eventually).

As people grow older, and responsibilities mount - schedules to maintain, work to complete, bills to pay, many find it increasingly difficult to maintain a positive and optimistic outlook. For me, a warm and happy personality suits me, but I worry that as I get older, I will fall into the same routines that many people I know have fallen into - and their happiness is sacrificed for these ‘routines’.

This thought scares me. I never want to lose the joy I feel in my heart every morning when I wake up (even if I’m crabby and need 3 coffees to get my brain firing). I never want to lose the sparkle in my eyes, the same sparkle I see in Bea, or the carefree smile that overcomes me when my heart is about to burst.

I think it is important to interact with children, and see the simple joy of their happiness. It helps me realize that no matter what stresses we feel, or insecurities we have, if we take a few minutes everyday to enjoy life like a 4-year-old, we would have much more joy and innocence in our lives.

So that is what I strive for, and will continue to strive for - I want to carry the happiness I felt as I child, and am reminded of when I watch Bea, every where I go. And I think you should do the same! Stop and pick some wild flowers, or spend a day coloring - I promise your heart will thank you!

Bathrobes

There are many differences between American culture and Italian culture. Some are more apparent than others, but there is one I would have NEVER expected:

Bathrobes.

Yes, bathrobes.

Che stranno....how strange, I know.

Sunday evening, Bea and Vincenzo went out and bought me a beautiful bathrobe. It was quite a surprise to get a gift at such a random time from them, but, I had a feeling it was coming.

Bathrobes, to me, are something I might throw on in the morning (key word here is might), when I’m cold, or after a shower before I dress. But they aren’t a necessity. 

Here, bathrobes are essential. And, since I didn’t bring one, it seemed like the end of the world that I didn’t have one to wear.

So, now I have one, and I’m gong to wear it all the time. Even if it’s weird.

Lost in Rome

Friday the 13th - you’ve done it to me again.

Actually, this one was probably the best joke yet!

After a beautiful evening eating at a very “posh” restaurant in the Piazza di Spagna, I couldn’t imagine how my evening could go wrong. I’m in Italy, everything is always perfect...at least so I thought.

Around 11:30 I headed back to the Metro station to make my journey back into Ostia - to my surprise, the trains for this one particular line had stopped working (Che palle! I knew I should have read the signs).

I asked a few people how to get back to Ostia, but I knew my time was running out - remember, this is Rome, not New York, bus lines don’t run 24/7.

I was filled with a variety of emotions; 

I could cry - but what would that do? I would just look vulnerable and ruin my makeup...

I could freak out - 

again, what would that accomplish? 

Or, I could laugh.

I went with the latter.

I laughed and smiled as I walked down the pebblestone streets in stilettos contemplating what alley I could sleep in for the night. But, I wasn’t afraid, in fact - I felt adventurous. I could either sink or swim in this situation. I needed to get lost, to find my way home, because I am alone - there is no security link for me to latch onto - independence is a must - as well as strength.

With hope diminishing, I decided to text my friend Saso, 

“Saso, OMG, I’m lost - in Rome! Aituo! (help)”

He called me immediately, and I just couldn’t help but laugh. What was he going to be able to do? He lives 8 hours from Rome, in Reggio. Hearing his voice was helpful though - comforting. A familiar voice is always helpful in times of stress. And I was grateful to have someone to talk too ( I didn’t want to look like a complete fool).

He helped me - rescued me in fact! I got to Piazza Venezia in one piece and found the right bus to take my straight back to Ostia. 

I had never felt more relieved to walk into my house and lay down in my little bed then I did Friday evening. 

Friday the 13th - you tried hard to screw with me, 

and you almost won. 

But - just like usual - I beat you again!

I was home - safely and soundly.

And I had discovered a friend I knew I could count on - even if he is 8 hours away!

Fontana di Trevi

There is a certain sparkle to the Fontana di Trevi. I can't explain it, but if you've ever seen it in person, you would understand. This spot right here is my favorite spot in Rome. Despite the huge crowds of tourists surrounding the fountain every day, I love visiting it.

When I'm near it - I feel it's strength; its magic, and power. The fountain is massive in size, but beautiful beyond words, almost as if it was sculpted by the gods as a tribute to their unending beauty and power.

Going sightseeing by yourself has its perks, so when I ventured into the city Sunday to familiarize myself with my new city - making a stop at this magical entity was a must!

Loneliness

“Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.” - Henry Rollins

While drinking my succulent peach juice and taking in the warm sun in San Giovanni Saturday afternoon, my friend asked me a strange question. One that I hadn’t pondered as of yet.

With his rolled cigarettes, messy brown hair and casual demeanor, he reminded me of a younger version of Johnny Depp, or at least what I had seen in interviews and photographs.

But, I took his words and questions to heart. This wasn’t a screenplay.

He asked me if I felt... alone.

What a beautiful, yet complicated word. Alone. There are so many meanings to this word that I stumbled upon my thoughts while contemplating what to say to him in reply.

My immediate response was a definite no; how could I possibly feel alone? I have some of the best friends a girl could ask for, a family that loves me unconditionally, a job that allows me to be free, yet grow and learn at the same time. And, I’m living in place that brings me unwavering joy every day.

But as I tried to make sense of this question, my thoughts began running circles around my head.

Should I feel alone? What does he mean by this? Alone because I live in a strange place? Alone because I’m single? 

The past few days have given me time to contemplate this question.

“Do I feel alone?”

And I realize that I do feel alone. But, strangely enough, I like this feeling of being alone. It’s a strange sensation.

My friends are thousands of miles away, apart from the friends I have in Italy. My family is also thousands of miles away; and my home, the place I know the best, resides in a completely different time zone.

But, for me, this bring me excitement. I’m alone, without the support system I’m used to; the comfort I know. I live in a strange place, hardly knowing anyone, and hardly understanding a word they say. 

But, how cool is that? This is my time to either sink or swim. 

I could stay closed-off from the culture, and avoid interacting if I so choose; in six months I can hop back on a plane and return to America, and use my pictures as memories.

Or, I can take my loneliness and turn it into an opportunity. Without having the comfort of my family, friends and home, I can grow. And focus on me. Without commitments to friends or family, with the strange inability to completely engage in casual conversations,  I have time for ME. M.E. 

So yes, my friend, I feel alone. But this does not scare me. I pray that my loneliness will give me the chance to find something in me worth living for, and happiness that is never ending.

Yes, I'm American

I keep forgetting that I live in another country. That I'M the foreigner.
Last night was a nice reminder though!
While dancing at Room 26, I felt like I was on display, like I was the circus people come to watch.
Men would walk by me shouting 'AMERICANA' 'AMERICANA'!
Then they would stare, or try and dance with me.

Che cazzo.....

Yes, I'm American.
But how the HECK can they tell???
Im dressed up, I have brown hair, I'm wearing heels....I'm not drunk or making a scene.
So, the million dollar question is:

"What makes me American"

Too me, I see no differences.
To get the answer, I went to the source: An Italian!
I asked Vincenzo in the car today about this issue, and if there is something I can do to resolve it.
He said simply

"Your face. That's how we can tell."

MY FACE?!

I laughed when he said that.
I can't change my face now can I?
Basically I'm screwed. 
Yes I'm American. Yes I'm foreign.... Time to live with it I guess!

Room 26

Che bella notte!

Last night, my friends, Sabrina and Meggie, and myself, ventured into Rome to go dancing!

Dance clubs in Italy, or Europe for that matter are called "Discotecche" and let me just say, they are COMPLETELY different than the clubs in America.

For one thing, we didn't even leave for the club until almost midnight because they stay open ALL night into the morning!

The atmosphere is completely different too - loud techno music, beautiful people dressed to the nines, and the drinking - wow - so different! In the four hours we were there, we each had one drink (which came with the cover), but that is typical. People go there to have fun and look their best, not to get completely hammered as we so often see in America. 

And the best part? I had a blast, remember the entire evening, and woke up without a headache! 

Besides, the club was too gorgeous to drink until I would forget it!

La Discotecca Room 26

My FIRST Race! La Mia Prima Gara!

Yesterday marked a milestone for me. As I participated in my first-ever race!

 In the rain, and mud, around farms, up steep-hills, and through herds of sheep I went (I’m NOT exaggerating this). 

Many of you know running has become an addictive habit of mine. 

A VERY addictive habit. There’s just something about the sound of my feet hitting the ground, my arms pumping and my music blasting that  gives me adrenaline - a rush. 

If I’ve ever been late for a date with my friends, or work, its usually because I had to make sure I got my run in for the day (I’m sorry for this, I hope you can forgive me)! 

Some days I could run for 10 miles, other days, maybe 2. Just the knowledge that I CAN run brings me happiness, and the knowledge that it keeps me in shape, and keeps me healthy are added bonuses.

Moving to Italy was nothing but a positive excursion for me, but I had one BIG concern. And I told Francesca about my concern almost immediately.

“I like to run Francesca, Where can I run?”

Sounds silly I know. But exercising is different over here, and being an American I stick out like a sore thumb. Avoiding the whole “sore thumb” issue is something I want to do!

To my surprise, pleasant surprise mind you, Francesca is an avid runner! I was so relieved when she told me this, and when we went running for the first time, it was GREAT. I found a running partner in Italy with complete ease!

The race was only a 6km, which is equivalent to 3.75 miles, but I was warned of the constant hills and bumpy terrain I would be running through. Initially, I was scared it would be hard.

 But - I was determined.

I started off a a nice pace; since it was my first race I didn’t want to embarrass myself and go to fast, then have to stop! But after about 10mins, I could feel my body warming up and getting stronger. 

Before I knew it, I was passing people left and right. Up-hill I was strong and down hill I let gravity carry me. My biggest concern was falling in the mud! 

But I couldn’t believe I ran so well! 

In the end I ran the race under 34 minutes. I didn’t have the exact timing, since I’m only just a beginner. But for me, that was really good! 

All of Francesca’s friends were impressed with my pace and running (as I somehow passed a few of them on my way) and I can’t lie when I say I wasn’t ecstatic to have completed my first race...IN ROME! 

My beautiful white and purple Asics are covered in mud, my PSU track-jacket is wet and dirty, and my Zune is not happy about having to work in the rain. But I did it! I completed a goal of mine, with the help and graciousness of Francesca inviting me to the race. 

Now I’m feeling better about running in Italy.

I don’t feel like such an outsider anymore!