Buon Natale!

In the past 14 years, I have not spent a single Christmas away from home. Every year my family has exactly the same routine - wake up in the morning (never too early), open loads of presents one person at a time (which always takes at least a couple hours), sip our hot chocolate, listen to Christmas music, eat a delicious Christmas brunch cooked by my mom, and lounge around all day doing absolutely nothing but thinking about how much we love all our new presents.

Fourteen years... exactly the same... and I love it.

But this year was different.

I've never been away from home on Christmas and especially never been away from family. But I discovered something about the experience that was quite encouraging: family is all around me, everywhere I go, even though they may not be related by blood. The Pugliese family has taken me in as one of their own, and on Christmas day I felt completely at home taking part of Christmas celebrations with a new family. I won't deny that it was difficult to be away from my mom, sister, and dad on such a special holiday, but I can't imagine a better place to be if not with them than here with my Italian family.

The celebrations started on Christmas Eve. I woke up in the late morning and Zoila told me that today was the day for Pancakes. We had been waiting and trying to find the perfect day to make ourselves a delicious American breakfast, and the right time had finally come. Maria Vittoria and I set to work preparing the batter, and Zoila went into town to get some "bacon." You can't exactly find your typical bacon here in Italy, but Zoila made a special request at the butcher shop for her meat to be cut in strips. It turned out to be pretty good! Not too much later, we sat down to an amazing, All-American brunch, complete with bacon, eggs, delicious pancakes, and even Maple Syrup (thanks to former au pairs that had left some behind!).

I can't really remember what I did the rest of the afternoon, but I do remember our dinner :) (It's the holidays... everything has to do with food right now). Aurelio's dad came over for dinner, and Zoila cooked clams and salmon for them and the kids. The unfortunate seafood-hater in me requested a chicken breast instead, so I indulged in my first piece of chicken since my arrival in Italy. It was delicious. Considering that chicken is my favorite meat, I have no idea how I have made it this long without eating it. I guess pasta is just that good! Along with my meat I had a salad of mixed greens, which I made sure to eat before the rest of my meal while everyone else enjoyed it after their main course, and bread with butter rather than olive oil. There's no better way to celebrate the holidays than to spend a whole day eating my own country's traditional food!

After dinner, I started getting antsy because I had been in the house all day. I kept thinking about the Christmas Eve service at my church back at home and was really wishing I could go to it. It was really difficult being in a place on Christmas Eve where there was nowhere I could go to celebrate (in my own language) the birth of our Savior. There was absolutely no evangelical or English church to go to, so I decided my best, and only, option would be to try Christmas Eve Mass in one of the Catholic churches around here. Earlier this week, Zoila told me about a time that she and Aurelio went to a Christmas Eve Mass in St. Francesco's Basilica in Assisi. She said it was so packed that they couldn't even get into the church; they ended up watching the service on a jumbo screen outside in the courtyard. Even though I knew there was a church nearby in the center of town that I could go to for mass, I kept thinking about the Basilica in Assisi and how famous it is, and I knew that a service there would be a really neat experience. I didn't have anyone to go with, so I didn't know how I would get to the church or get home, but Aurelio offered to give me a ride there so I did something a little risky and went anyways.

Zoila spent quite awhile trying to make sure I would be safe and actually have a way to get back (taxis in Italy don't run at midnight on Christmas Eve), but for some reason I knew I would be just fine. Aurelio dropped me off in a parking lot below the church, and I walked through the town up a massive hill to get to the top where the Basilica is located. The walk was beautiful; all the town was lit up with twinkling lights and it couldn't have been a more perfect place to be on a Christmas Eve night.

When I got to the top of the hill, I paused to catch my breath and marveled at the beautiful Basilica. This is the same place that I had visited with Giulia about a month ago, although we didn't get a chance to go inside. At night it was even more beautiful, and this time I got to go in. As expected, the place was packed. I got there right at 11:00 as the service started, and there wasn't an empty seat in sight. I wormed my way up as far as I could get and stopped next to a niche where several nuns were seated. Planting myself in a comfortable standing position where I could see, I prepared myself to be on my feet for the next hour. A few minutes later, I noticed a woman on the top row of the steps next to me. We made eye contact and she gave me a look of extreme pity that I had to be standing the whole time. A couple more songs were sung and some more Scripture was read, and I glanced back up at her again to see her motioning to me to come sit up by her. I didn't see any empty space, but I figured there must have been room somewhere if she was suggesting that I sit there. I squeezed my way past the nuns, bumping into a few, stepping on everything, and evoking some intensely dirty looks from, and finally made it up to the top step. The woman and I were speaking broken Italian to each other when I eventually just blurted out, "Do you speak English?" She laughed and said of course! In a brief and quickly hushed conversation to follow I found out she is a Philippino Canadian that is now living near her boyfriend in Italy and was visiting his family who lives in... you guessed it... Foligno. In between the angry glances from the nuns, she found out I had come alone and offered to give me a ride home.

We spent the rest of the time wanting to talk, trying to start conversation, and then realizing again that we would not be able to talk without making everyone around us really angry. Meanwhile Mass went on.... and on and on and on. At midnight I was ready for it to end and had my purse and umbrella in hand, waiting to be dismissed. All of a sudden a processional of important-looking men started making their way through the aisles (I might actually know who these people were if I was Catholic, but seeing as how I've never been to a Catholic church in my life, I had no idea). I looked at my new friend next to me with wide eyes, wondering how much longer the service would be. She told me it might be another 30 minutes. I took a breath, sat down, and prepared myself to wait a little longer. Thirty minutes went by. An hour went by. An hour and a half went by... It was like the third Lord of the Rings Movie.... cruelly tricking you into thinking it's over multiple times, but never actually ending. The guy at the front read, the audience recited, we sat down, the choir sang, we stood up, we recited again, the guy at the front sang off key, we sat down again.... for two and a half hours. The service ended at 1:30 am on Christmas morning, and I hadn't even finished wrapping presents yet.

It might have been a fascinating service. Maybe it was even a good message. But unfortunately I will never know. I spent two and a half hours recognizing nothing but the words Spiritu Santu, Signore, and Dio. However, everything was redeemed at the very end when the choir sang Silent Night and O Come Let Us Adore Him. The whole time, I kept thinking that no Christmas Eve service can be complete without singing those two songs, but I knew that they weren't going to be sung at Mass. But I was wrong! As the very last song, the choir sang a beautiful Italian version of Silent Night, and I sang my heart out in English, not caring a bit how many nuns gave me dirty looks.

My new friend Amy and her boyfriend took me home and we finally got a chance to freely chat in the car on the way back. By the time I got home it was past two, and I hurried in to finish wrapping a few presents and somehow made it into bed around 3 am.

At 7:30, I heard a knock on my door and squeals from the kids about how many present Babbo Natale had brought last night. I stumbled out of bed, told myself I had five minutes to wake up, and then actually got excited for Christmas morning. By the time I got upstairs where our tree is, the kids had already gotten their presents in hand and were ready to start ripping them open the second I arrived. We spent the next half hour or so exchanging gifts and watching Maria Vittoria and Cesare's faces light up each time they opened a new toy. Kids make Christmas fun :)

Zoila and Aurelio were very sweet and got me several gifts, so I had plenty of presents to open as well. We had a fun and happy morning, and concluded our present-opening with Italian hot chocolate. It was kind of like being right back at home again. Around lunchtime, we headed over to Zoila's parents' house for a traditional Christmas dinner. For the first time since I've been in Italy, I had lasagna (my absolute favorite food!) and a ton of other food. After lasagna and crostinis, we had fried lamb and fried artichoke hearts, parmigiana, and lamb stew, followed by traditional panattone and torrone desserts. We were absolutely stuffed and, as usual, I ended up curled up on the couch taking a nap.

I woke up to a little voice yelling over me, "Megan! Megan!" and opened my eyes to see Cesare grinning as he taunted me. By this point, Cesare knows my name quite well, but he has all too much fun teasing me and calling me an former au pairs' name, just to get to me. It's kind of cute though ;-) We got all of our things together and went home to take a real nap.

The nap never happened for me, but that's okay. I had a much better time Skyping with my mom and sister. When I got home, it was about 10 am in Arizona and I called my mom. She told me that she and my sister were just about to start opening presents, so I video chatted with them on Skype and they set me up on a counter where I could see the tree, the presents, and both of them, and I joined them for their Christmas morning :) It was a wonderful blessing to be able to "be" with my family at such a special time. My mom even said later that it seemed like any other Christmas with me there, and nothing seemed different at all. So 14 years of the same Christmas, and I expected this year to be my first time away. It wasn't. I was still part of my family's Christmas traditions - hot chocolate, opening tons of presents, and lounging around lazily afterward. It was perfect.

The next day, December 26, is a holiday in Italy celebrating St. Stephen. Really that just means you get to eat more. We went out to Patrizia and Leo's house in Castagnola (the one in the old castle) for a dinner party with family and had, yet another, delicious and wonderful meal. This time, we ate bread and prosciutto, roasted lamb, amazing potatoes, tortellini, and traditional Italian cakes for dessert, along with Zoila's homemade Pineapple Upside Down cake. I had a really fun time hanging out with everyone in the family and laughing and playing games. It was one of my favorite parts of the holidays.

Here's a view of the outside of their house

Blowing bubbles with the kids

Me, Zoila, and Aurelio

After the party, Andrea invited me to go to a friend's house to jam with them for a little while. We met up with two of his friends and got to listen to them rock out on guitar and drums. They invited me to go to a pub with them afterward, so we headed into Perugia to find a place to hang out. At the pub we were met by a couple other friends and we spent the next few hours just talking and laughing and having a great time. All of Andrea's friends spoke English (enough for us to actually communicate), so for once I could actually participate in a conversation instead of blankly zoning out and getting lost in my own thoughts while everyone else is rattling off Italian all around me. I couldn't have asked for a better day and am so thankful that I got to have such a fun and blessed holiday this year!

Before I conclude, I might as well throw in a couple pictures from an outing I had the other night with Martina. She invited me to the birthday party of one of her friends, so I accompanied her to a really cool place called Dalton's Pub. The party was for a girl turning 17. I can't tell you how strange it felt hanging out with high school students in a pub. But here it's no big deal and definitely nothing unusual. We had a really fun time though, and I met lots of Martina's friends who were ready and willing to practice their English with me! As soon as I sat down at the table and ordered some food, all I could think about was the huge glass of ice water that I would get at any other restaurant in America. I so badly wanted a waiter with a pitcher of cold water to fill up my extra large cup endlessly throughout the night so that I could keep drinking as much water as I wanted. But that's not how Europe works. If you want water, you have to ask. If you want ice, you have to ask. And if you want a large cup, you don't have to ask because even if you do, they won't give it to you. There was a large Coca Cola cup on the table next to me that someone else was drinking soda from. Martina pointed to it and asked for a glass just like that one, with ice and water. Instead, they brought me a small bottle of water, and this cup partly filled with ice:

It was half the size of the Coca Cola cup. Moral of the story: be prepared to be perpetually thirsty in Europe if you come, and never, ever expect to drink a lot with your meal.

Rome #3

After my last blog, you may think I hate Rome. I don’t. I quite enjoy it actually; I’m just glad that I get to go visit it for a few days at a time and don’t have to live there. But when I am there I have a great time!

This weekend I went down on Saturday again to meet up with Madeleine. The only thing we had planned was shopping :) We met up in Termini Station around 1 (you can conclude from my last blog that I was not in the greatest mood when I arrived) and then decided to go back to her house to drop my stuff off. Madeleine has been in Rome since the summer working as an au pair but recently started working for a new family with five boys, ranging from age 2 to 18. When we got there, Mattia, the 16 year old, was cooking pasta on the stove while he was on the phone with his girlfriend. Madeleine and I chuckled at the thought of a very inexperienced sixteen year old attempting to cook pasta for the first time and then debated whether or not to eat at home or to go out. Mattia finished his pasta, put it on a plate, and Madeleine tried a bite. She almost spit it out. Apparently his girlfriend had instructed him to put a handful of salt in the boiling water. This measuring method may work if you are a girl with a very small hand, but for a growing teenage boy, a handful of salt is quite an excessive amount. Luckily, Nonna came rushing in to the rescue, dumped his pasta in the garbage, and immediately started a new pot on the stove. She told us she was making spaghetti for everyone. We stayed for lunch.

Over lunch, Alberto the 18 year old came home, so the four of us sat down to a wonderful homecooked meal of spaghetti, beef, greens, and fresh fruit from their garden. The rest of the family was out of town at their house in the mountains for the weekend, so Alberto informed us that he might be having a few friends over that night. His explanation of this get together was pretty vague, leaving us wondering what to expect when we got home that night. After lunch, Madeleine and I geared up for a trip to the Porta di Roma, one of the biggest malls in Rome (or Europe... not sure which). We weren't exactly sure how to get there, but hopped on what we thought was the right bus and figured that we would know when we got to the correct stop because it would be around an hour later and everyone else would probably get off too. Thank goodness we were right, and at the second to last stop of the bus' route, the whole bus emptied out and all the passengers headed into the mall.

OH my goodness.... I cannot begin to tell you how amazing it was to be in a mall!! I walked in and felt right at home again! Everything was sparkling, shiny, and calling my name. I have been on a hunt since I've been in Italy for stores that sell affordable clothes that people my age would wear. I haven't been real successful, but going to this mall certainly ended that streak! I found dozens of stores, just like American Eagle, Gap, Forever 21, Heritage, Hollister, J. Crew, and any other place with cute clothes that I might actually shop at. This was a fantastic thing, but also a very bad thing. I was supposed to be Christmas shopping for others, but you can't get much of that done when you're burning a hole in your own pocket ;) Needless to say, I walked away with just a few bags and the conclusion that shopping is a great way to build arm muscle. By the end of our trip, we were exhausted, beat, and totally ready for a relaxing evening at home.

Just a few bags to complete our shopping trip! ;-)

Before we even walked in the door of the house, we saw the cars out front. There were several unfamiliar cars that didn't belong to the family, so we knew that Alberto did indeed have "a few" friends over. We walked inside to find at least twenty high schoolers, booming music, and quite a spirited atmosphere. Madeleine and I retreated to her room and tried to come up with Plan B - because clearly our original plan of making pancakes and watching a Christmas movie was not going to work with dozens of people in the kitchen and music blasting through the walls. We knew we couldn't beat it - so we joined it.

It turned out to be a ton of fun, and we had a really great time. Finding English speakers in Rome is much different than finding them in a small town like Foligno, so we had no problem communicating with most of the people there. After meeting several of the high school students and hearing about their current preparations for college and studying abroad, Madeleine and I ended up outside with a group of Alberto's friends around us, asking us questions and making jokes about America and English. We spent the rest of the night making fun of ourselves and laughing at all the differences between Americans and Italians. We listened to music, heard the Italians sing every single word of all the American pop songs, and finally concluded the night with an Italian version of karaoke. Like I said... it was a blast. And there was no chance Madeleine and I were going to completely forgo out pancake craving. I don't know if I've mentioned or not, but it is impossible to find pancakes or even pancake mix in Italy. We basically possessed Gold in the eyes of the Italians because Madeleine's sister had sent her a Christmas package with Great Value Pancake Mix in it. Since the kitchen seemed to be the popular hang out spot for all the guests, Madeleine and I almost gave up our quest for cooking our favorite American breakfast, knowing that we'd have dozens of hungry and curious Italians to ward off. But you can't stare at a picture this amazing and just forget about it.

Needless to say, we followed our ravenous stomachs and somewhat crashed the kitchen party with a frying pan, a whisk, and a plate waiting for hot, freshly made pancakes. It turned out that our bag only made about 8 or 10 pancakes, so we had no problem hiding the evidence from the rest of the guests in the kitchen. As soon as a pancake came off the pan, it was quickly buttered and topped with Cinnamon Sugar (you weren't expecting a country with no pancake mix to have syrup were you??) and went straight into one of our mouths. By the time anyone noticed what we were doing and came to beg for some, they were already gone :)

Madeleine and I had promised ourselves that we would take pictures of our delicious American meal, but in light of the perilous situation our pancakes were in, the only memory we have is the savory taste of buttery, fluffy goodness melting in our mouths.

The next morning was painful. No one wants to get out of bed after only three hours of sleeping, especially when it's freezing outside. We had made plans to meet Jess and another friend for coffee before church, but when the alarm sounded at 8:00, we grunted, laughed at our misery, and rolled back over to go back to sleep. But as much as I wanted to sleep for the rest of the day, I knew I needed to get up and make the most of my time in Rome, especially since I don't get very many chances to go to church in the first place. I fought against my mind and my body, reminding myself of all the hundreds of times I've had to get up after three hours of sleep for Glowing Heart and somehow miraculously made it through all those days, and I got myself up, ready, and to the church - only 15 minutes late ;-)

I'm glad I went. I have to admit - I don't remember a whole lot that the pastor talked about (most of my concentration was going towards thinking how horrible I felt after sleeping so little), but I ended up meeting some really great people as soon as the service was over. I love the community of Rome Baptist Church. It's such a wide variety of people from all over the world, and I think it's great to be able to worship, still in my own language, with such a diverse crowd. Jess, my friend from Australia, introduced me to another guy from the"Land Down Under" after church. I asked how they knew each other and was informed that David had met our friends from Iowa while in Spain over Thanksgiving and was traveling on his own for a few months, so he made his way up to Rome for a visit. There he met Jess and was invited to come to Rome Baptist by her and the Iowa girls. It was his first time to church. We made plans to go to lunch with him, along with another friend named John who grew up in the Ivory Coast and is now a University student in Rome, and set out to find the perfect Sunday afternoon restaurant.

As we walked, it started raining and we knew we couldn't wander for forever. We walked around in circles for about 30 minutes before finally deciding on a cute restaurant that Jess had been to before. I ordered spinach ravioli and we all shared our food and tried each other's... just the way I like to eat! Madeleine joined us eventually (feeling much more rested than I did) and we set out to enjoy the rest of the rainy afternoon in Rome.

 

 

I forgot to mention - the main reason I went to Rome this weekend was to see the new Narnia movie, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. If I was ever excited about Harry Potter, I was ten times more excited about the Dawn Treader. Apparently it's not quite as popular as HP (this is news to me) and people don't really understand my obsession, so let me take a minute to explain. A lot of people grew up reading the Chronicles of Narnia and were familiar with the tales of Aslan and the Pevensies, but not me. I was not introduced to C.S. Lewis' collection until my sophomore year of college when a friend started reading through the series and encouraged me to do the same. I know the books are written for children, but they are so much deeper than that. C.S. Lewis has an incredible way of taking the hopeful and loving story of Christ and illustrating it in a beautiful, creative, and inspiring story of Aslan the Lion and his mighty and powerful reign over the land of Narnia. Perfectly knitted into Lewis' creative stories are precious lessons and pieces of wisdom that can apply to people of all ages, not just children. It is these lessons and these reminders of truth that have greatly impacted my life and shaped who I have come to be, which is why these books, particularly the Dawn Treader are so significant to me. The stories give me hope when things in my life seem a little too dark. The help me remember what I'm living for, what to fight for, and who I can be.

Sadly enough, even though my heart was yearning to see the cinematic approach to this inspiring story, I guess it's not popular enough to play in English in movie theaters, so I came and went without ever seeing it.

My first trip to the movie theaters when I'm back in the U.S. is going to be a special one. :)

We unsuccessfully searched for a theater that afternoon until we ran out of time and Madeleine and I had to hurry off so I could catch my train. After a very long two hour journey on the train, I arrived in Foligno and Aurelio picked me up from the station so I wouldn't have to walk home in the rain. It was good to be home, but I certainly had a great weekend.

The City

Rome completely exhausts me. Every time I take a trip there, I come back tired beyond belief and feeling like I just battled the world. I finally concluded that it’s Public Transportation. I hate it. There’s nothing more stressful than cramming into a space of four square feet with people touching you on every side, breathing their unbrushed teeth and cappucino breath on you, speaking way too loudly right in your ear, and uncomfortably staring at you, a stranger that they are now a little too familiar with. And on top of that, just wait until that group of twenty sixteen year olds decides to get on your means of transportation and completely change the entire atmosphere of your ride. If it was quiet before – and I say if, as it’s something very unlikely thanks to accordion-playing gypsies that try to take advantage of everyone’s inability to run away from them and deaf grandmas that think the person on the phone with them can’t hear anything they are saying) – if it ever was quiet, prepare yourself to be completely swallowed by obnoxious screams, ridiculous squeals, and irritating incessant laughter of immature teenagers. And there is no escape. Don't even think about trying to get away from these people. You won't even be able to find a seat to sit down in to give yourself some breathing room. And if you do find an open place to sit, it's guaranteed that there will be some sort of mysterious brown sticky substance or clear liquid already occupying your desired seat. So, if you are willing and brave enough to bear all of that madness and face the insanity of Public Transportation, you might be able to arrive at your desired destination in Rome. But you can't even count on that. If you want to take a bus, it might come in fifteen minutes, it might come in thirty, or it might not ever come at all. And by the time you realize you can no longer take the bus that will never come and instead have to walk to the metro, stand in line to buy a ticket, weave through the thousands of other people also trying to get on a metro, and walk up and down a million stairs, you will never make it to your destination on time. Especially if it's a train... which you can never count on either. It might leave exactly at the time it's supposed to (which is most likely to happen if you are running late) or it could leave ten, fifteen, twenty minutes late (guaranteed to happen if you are in a hurry). Then sometimes you fly right through all the stops - doors open, people off, people on, doors closed - and sometimes you just stop. In the middle of the tracks. Waiting....waiting...and all the while the whole train is quiet, save for that one person that is shouting to their friend on the other end of their cell phone... the entire ride.

So this is where I find myself when I travel through Roma Termini Station... only I get to get off my train and instead of finding a nice quiet place to rest, I am immediately faced with throngs of people - travelers from all over the world, business people, homeless people, and really shady people that will steal your wallet or your purse or your suitcase in a heartbeat. Ok then, so run through the station, spend as little time there as possible, head outside, breathe some fresh air. Or... run outside to have a huge city bus fly past you, three cars honk at you as you cross a street, dozens of vendors trying to get you to buy their amazing (amazingly cheap) product, and noise, NOISE, Noise. Everywhere!

There is no better feeling than arriving back in Foligno, walking through the quiet town, coming in the door of our apartment, and realizing that I am home. I can breathe. I can rest. I can relax, and it's calm. I love the stillness, the mountains, the small town, the simplicity. I love coming back to my family here and joining them at the dinner table and sharing all of my crazy adventures with them. And I absolutely love curling up in my warm, comfortable bed - lamp lit, blankets piled on - and just sitting.

My friends in Rome have quite a different experience than me. They get to go out every day. They see the city life, the people, the famous historical sites, the art. They have an endless number of people to meet and become friends with, they can go to the movies anytime they want, take a language course if they desire, walk past ancient buildings on a daily basis, travel anywhere they want conveniently and easily, shop every day, and experience true city life. But while many of these things are appealing to me and seem fun, I can't help but be a little proud of the experience I get to have. I may not have tons of Americans or other au pairs around me, but I get the opportunity to become friends with actual Italian people. And people here may not know very much English, but what a great chance for me to practice and learn a little Italian! Foligno is not The City; it's not big and bustling, but there is life, there is community, and there is so much beauty. People from Rome travel to Umbria on field trips and day excursions to see the things that I get to see every day. I live fifteen minutes away from the very well-known city of Assisi and only minutes from spectacular mountains, wineries, olive mills, and medieval hilltop towns.

Foligno is beautiful.

And I live here :)

I'm so thankful for the plan that God had for me all along. I may be missing out on a few things in Rome or if I were to be an au pair in another city, but God has given me abundant blessings to enjoy right where I'm at. I have such a unique opportunity, in such a unique place, and I know that it's exactly where God wants me to be. I may not understand the significance of all of it right now, but I'm sure in time I will see why He so clearly opened all of the doors for me to be right here, right now, right where He has taken me.

Basta

Since last Wednesday was a holiday, I went out in the evening with Martina. We decided to visit the town of Perugia, the largest city in the area, because there are lots of things to do, especially around this time of year. We took the train and arrive around 6:00, after a very interesting 30 minute ride spent trying to convince a strange blonde Italian man that he was not going to go home with Martina’s number.

Perugia is situated on top of a hill so once we got into the train station, we had to take a mini-metro up to the top. At the top, we walked into the city center bustling with people shopping, walking, and enjoying their holiday evening. We came across a small street fair with some cute girly things, so we stopped to take a look and each walked away with a new scarf. We didn’t have a whole lot of time in the city, but we enjoyed simply walking through the streets and window-shopping. I noticed a store that had some really cute clothes in it and I’ve gotta say – I think I found my new favorite store! It was one of the first places I’ve found in awhile that actually had cute, affordable (under 50 euro) clothes that were fitting for people my age. I’ll definitely be going back after the holidays ☺

drinking our hot chocolate

Before we had to head home, we sat at a little caffé and ordered authentic Italian hot chocolate – pretty much just thick chocolate in a cup. Delicious! When we arrived back at the train station, we were walking back into the ticket office when we had an unfortunate encounter with our clueless acquaintance (dare I call him a friend…) from the train ride over, so we steered clear the other way hoping he wouldn’t see. After darting around pillars and trying to keep out of sight, we finally made it to our platform and breathed a sigh of relief… only to see him walking up the stairs right behind us. He couldn’t have missed our rude stares and childish laughter trying to hide from him, so he didn’t approach us again. The last we saw of him was as he was walking past on the train and turned to acknowledge Martina with somewhat of a grimace. I think he finally got the point.

This is what happens when you ask an Italian to take a picture for you. If you can't believe someone is dumb enough to take a picture with a cigarette in their hand, don't even try to believe that that person would then look at the picture, show it to you, and ask you if it looked okay. Italians.

 After arriving back in Foligno, we walked to Martina’s apartment where her mom had a beautiful meal waiting for us. We had spinach ravioli with butter and sage followed by a dish of chicken and greens. This is something you must understand about Italy – the food is served very differently from the U.S. In the U.S. we like to pile all our food together and eat it all once in a big mishmash on our plate. In Italy, you are first served a large plate of pasta. But don’t fill up on that! Because chances are there is still a lot more coming! After pasta, then you have your meat – usually pork but sometimes lamb, beef, or chicken – with a side of vegetables. Every meal is served with bread and if you are having a special meal with someone, you will absolutely have wine and dessert. Do you see why I am stuffed all the time?

view on our drive. beautiful!

I had a great time with Martina and am very thankful to have her as a friend. She is busy on weekends with volleyball, so I don’t get to see her much then. Instead I stuck around with the family here and went to lunch at their friends’ house on Saturday. The house was their friends’ parents and was out in the country rather than in the center of town like us. It was beautiful. I loved the entire drive and enjoyed staring out the window and looking at the rolling green hills turning orange and yellow from winter coming. Lunch at this house was exactly as I just described – a full plate of delicious pasta, penne with vodka sauce, followed by an entire other plate of food. Our second serving was wild boar (which was really good) and some sort of greens (not collard greens because those are only in the U.S.). And I can’t forget our appetizer. Sitting on our plates when we arrived was a piece of bread with some sort of pate on it. I assumed it was olive pate (I was hoping for the best), but told myself I would just put it in my mouth and eat it no matter what it was. I braced myself, very discreetly of course, and put the first bite in my mouth. It was not olive pate. My mind immediately flooded with possibilities of what it could be. I quickly reminded myself that I had to eat it no matter what when suddenly I heard Zoila say the word “liver.” It took everything in me to finish chewing and swallow. And of course I didn’t want to be rude, so I had to eat my “happy helping” to at least say I tried. I told Zoila next time she should wait until after I’m done eating to tell me what it is.

The rest of the meal, as I said, was delicious. I had my first homemade traditional Italian tiramisu. It was amazing. I am going to be a huge tiramisu fan when I get back I’m sure, as if I wasn’t already. To top of the wonderful meal, we had two or three different types of wine from the region, a special liqueur, and coffee. I didn’t eat the rest of the day.

Christmas Tree in the center of town

I did go out that night however. I went into town to walk off some of the food and ended up having a very nice time. As I’ve said before, Foligno on Saturday nights is quite busy and full of life, so there is always lots to do. I explored some new places around town and made my way to a beautiful shop that is owned by a friend of Zoila’s. It is a home store and pretty much resembles Pottery Barn. I met Zoila’s friend when I went in the store the other day, so she recognized me immediately and said hello. She told me to wait and went off and called her daughter. Apparently her daughter is my age and is dating a guy that lives on the same floor of our building who I’ve seen a couple times. I talked to Giulia on the phone and she told me she would meet me at the store at 6:00.

In the meantime, I walked outside back onto the main shopping road to find a jazz band performing in the streets. I absolutely loved it. The band was interactive, enthusiastic, lively, and very talented. I joined the crowd around them and watched with a cheesy grin on my face as they jumped, danced, and spun, tubas on their shoulders and saxophones in hand. I concluded in that moment that music makes life good. Every moment in life that is enjoyable seems to be made a little more special when you have the right music. I think music may be one of the most beautiful creations our God made. 

 

Giulia and I met up and walked around town for a little while talking. She is sweet and we plan to hang out sometime soon (if I ever have time). We met up with her boyfriend after we walked and talked to him for a few minutes. As I was leaving, Giulia kissed me goodbye, followed by her boyfriend Domenico. Can I just say, one more time, I HATE kissing?! (I’m talking about the Italian kiss kiss goodbye on the cheek thing.) As if it’s not awkward and uncomfortable enough, try doing it all when you both lean in to the same side, then awkwardly hover in front of each others’ faces for WAY too long trying to figure out which side to go to so that you don’t collide. I wanted to die. I swear I am done with kissing. I don’t care how many Italians I offend… they can give me a hug instead.

After my mortifying moment in front of Giulia, I went home to rest before going out that night. I had heard about a concert on facebook from some of the people that I know in Foligno, so I planned to go. I hadn’t talked to anyone specifically about it yet, but I knew that everyone would be there. Before I went, I stopped by the wine bar to say hi to Chiara and to see if anyone else was there. One of the guys I met a few weeks ago was there with a group of friends, so he said hello and we all walked over to the concert together.

The concert was in a place called the Auditorium. It’s a really neat venue and is basically an old cathedral here in Foligno that has been gutted inside and turned into an auditorium and concert hall. The musician of the night was a guy named Ben Frost, a musician from Iceland, or maybe from Australia… I heard both during the night. His music was the most unique I’ve ever heard. I don’t really know if it was really music… It was more like sounds that he had put together. I think there was everything from high pitched screeches to radio fuzz to wolves. And there was a beating bass that shook the walls of the church. At one point I was convinced my life was over and that the bass was going to shake the walls of the old church until they collapsed in on us. The air was thick with noise. It was so loud you could literally taste it. My whole body felt the beating and screeching until I didn’t have the strength to sit through it anymore. I went outside, into the fresh, quiet air and breathed in the peace. The bass was still booming.

The concert didn’t last much longer than that, so afterwards plenty of people flooded outside, and I stood and chatted with my friends and some people I hadn’t seen in a couple weeks. A party started in the upstairs part of the Auditorium, so I eventually decided to go check it out. I enjoy the way Italians party. There’s no crazy, nasty dancing like in the U.S. People really just do their own thing. If they look dumb, they don’t care. They dance the bounce dance, not the grind dance, and people have a good time. Maybe it doesn’t stay like that. Maybe it does get crazier as the night goes on. But I never stay late enough to see. Italian parties can go until 5 or 6 in the morning. I don’t stay out past 1 or 2 ☺

A new friend I made on Saturday night

Sunday was a day of rest for me. I slept in and spent the afternoon with Andrea in a beautiful town about 15 minutes from here called Bevagna. We drove past in on Saturday on the way to lunch, and I knew I really wanted to go back to take pictures. Andrea had told me he would take me to some really good areas for pictures sometime, so I figured this was a good opportunity. It was a very calm, restful afternoon walking around the town. We didn’t see a soul the whole time we were there. The shops were closed, the windows were closed, the streets were empty. Every so often we would walk through an alley and hear faint music flowing from behind a curtain. My mind was filled with curiosity as to who and what was behind each door. I snapped some pictures (none very good unfortunately) and we walked. Ending our time, we ate at a restaurant called Ottavius. suggested to us by Aurelio. The specialty was Gnocchi with Sangrantina, which I wasn’t quite sure what that was, but I ordered it anyways. It was very good. We also had vegetables, and since I have never tried panna cotta, Andrea made sure that I tried some.

Once more... I was stuffed. 

I think I’ve finally learned my lesson. Enough stuffing myself. It’s 3 am and I’m still awake writing this. Why? Because I ate too much and am too full to sleep. I think it’s time I learn to use a very useful Italian word – Basta.

Amici

Monday brought the official One-Month mark of my stay here in Italy. That means I'm a third of the way through my Italian adventure.

It's amazing what can happen in one month.

When I think back to the beginning of my time here in Foligno, I remember so clearly the wonderment, excitement, and freedom that I felt as I braced myself for a long and unknown road ahead. There I stood, completely free and ready, facing the beginning of an epic journey and carrying nothing but my bags and hope for the future.

Yet at the same time, amidst the excitement and anticipation of a new future loomed a great sense of loneliness and fear. Even though I was confident that the experience would conclude as a rewarding and beneficial time, I still feared embarking on this journey alone, having no companions to laugh with me, no confidant to walk beside me, and no comrade to explore mysteries with me. As the days passed, the mist offered no promise of clearing. I trudged on into the foggy obscurity that remained ahead, surrounding myself in a whirl of my fears. There was no escaping the loneliness. It consumed me in my travels to Rome. Emptiness followed me as I walked through the streets of Foligno, unable to communicate with anyone I encountered. Hopelessness threatened by deceiving me into believing I would never develop fruitful relationships. Quietness echoed around me as I sat alone at home with nowhere to go.

And suddenly one day the sun peeked through. I found a friend. I was introduced to more. And I no longer felt the chill of the hopelessness surrounding me. Each day brought new excitement, new opportunities, new relationships. What seemed to be an unpromising and secluded path had suddenly turned into a bustling and busy road with dozens of other travelers. They brought encouragement, they brought adventure, they brought fun and delight. And they have turned and begun to walk alongside me. I am no longer alone. I have been brought companions, been blessed with loving spirits who want to enjoy and face new experiences with me.

On Thursday, I was invited to a concert with Andrea. Andrea is studying Geology at the University of Perugia, and the concert was a special event for all the Geology students at his school. There were several bands playing classic American rock, some heavy music, and popular Italian songs. There was also an entire buffet of food. It was a different crowd than I normally find myself around, but it allowed me the experience to be a part of a typical Italian concert. I saw it all - the excitement, the jumping, the free dancing, the belting and singing - and loved the enthusiasm of the participants. These listeners ensured that they truly enjoyed their concert experience and made the most of the thrill of the music.

Piazza Navona Christmas Market

Saturday I packed a backpack and left for Rome. It had been a challenging week (babysitting can be quite difficult at times), and I needed some time to relax and unwind. Upon stepping off the train, I had friends waiting for me - such a different dynamic from my previous visit to the city. I joined Madeleine, an au pair from Maine, and we walked around the famous Christmas market in Piazza Navona. Although we weren't especially hungry, we indulged in candied nuts and spent the rest of our time fascinated by all the fried food and children's toys. Later on, our friend Jess, an au pair from Australia, met up with us. She told us the plan for the rest of the day and we continued on our way through the city. I don't remember having a specific destination. We just walked. Right around sunset we found ourselves on a bridge overlooking the Tiber River. Of course, I got out my camera and we made the most of the beautiful golden sunlight. Madeleine and Jess both seemed to thoroughly enjoy playing with my camera, so I was kind enough to let them take turns carrying it through the city for me ;-)

I don't know what this was, but it was amazing! Almost as good as the food at the Texas State Fair... Almost.

Haha... actually I had been lugging around a heavy backpack, a thick coat, and my purse and camera all day. It was quite a blessing to have some relief for a bit! And it didn't even stop there. Madeleine had to return to her Italian family to work for a few hours, so she was amazing and took my backpack with her until she came back. In the meantime, Jess and I enjoyed an evening date in the city. We visited an International Bookstore where I found a book to teach myself Italian (which has actually resulted in drastically improving my language skills in a matter of days already), a guidebook for Umbria (so I can know what I am seeing when I travel to nearby cities), and the last book in the Narnia series (I have been determined to finish it for over a year now, so I am making sure it happens before I leave Italy). The bookstore happened to be right across the street from the beautiful St. Regis hotel that I visited during my last trip to Rome, so we stopped in for a few minutes to rest our feet and enjoy the atmosphere. You will never guess who we saw there. Okay, you probably already did. That's right - the old man that I awkwardly spoke with last time! Part of me couldn't believe he was there again, but then part of me was not the least bit surprised. I told Jess I wished I had taken a picture of him last time, and she cleverly suggested that I take a picture of "her" in the hotel. I officially have a way to remember my awkward friend :)

St. Regis

Indian food!

 After our elegant experience at the St. Regis, Jess and I made our way to an Indian restaurant for dinner. First of all, I love Indian and am very excited that I live in an area of Dallas that has tons of Indian restaurants. Second of all, I can't tell you how thrilled I was to have Indian food in another country, especially after eating pasta every day. It was amazing! We ordered samosas, tikka masala, garlic naan, and the house wine, an absolutely fabulous meal. As if we weren't full enough, we left to meet up with some other girls for tiramisu right afterwards.

We passed this on our way to tiramisu :)

The tiramisu place was on the other side of town, so it took us awhile to get there. We decided to walk. As we came to the end of our 40 minute trek, I considered how quickly it had gone by. A similar walk two weeks ago on a Saturday night in Rome had seemed to drag on forever, but with company to talk to and laugh with along the way, it didn't quite seem long enough.

I don't know what this tiramisu place was, but apparently it is extremely popular and was quite crowded. I also discovered where to find the local Italians in Rome and concluded that since there weren't too many English speakers around, we must have made a good choice in our caffe selection. The selection actually came on the suggestion of a girl we were meeting - one of several girls from Iowa State University who are studying interior design in Rome for the semester. All of us know each other from church, and I had worked out beforehand that I would be staying with these girls for the night.

I ordered a classic tiramisu, ate till I was stuffed, and then stood outside with the girls trying to decide where to go and what to do next. We finally agreed on walking around until we could find a comfortable, quiet, and warm caffe. There was one not too far away, so we went inside and ordered hot tea. The next hour or so was spent in laughs, jokes, and good conversation as we all opened up to each other and took time to get to know each other better. As much as I loved having the delicious tea at the St. Regis two weeks ago, I'm quite certain I preferred the not-quite-as-delicious tea at the caffe, because there's nothing more enjoyable than good company.

That night I went home with the Iowa girls to their large apartment. They had a futon set up for me and proceeded to supply every item that I was lacking for spending the night. I think I even ate some Corn Flakes before going to bed :)

We woke up for church the next morning and enjoyed a service with our friend singing for the special music and an intriguing sermon on God's silence. We stayed and talked to people until we were kicked out because the next service was starting, and then we made plans for the rest of the day. Two of the girls had to go to their studio to work on projects that afternoon, so that left me and Anna to have the entire rest of the day to shop and explore. And boy did we shop! I brought a list to Rome with me of all the things I wanted to buy:

• Pashmina Scarves
• English books
• Socks
• Black boots
• Christmas presents
• Exchange money
• Contact Solution 
• New shirts/sweaters
• A Rome snow globe

You better believe it - I checked off every single thing on my list! I still have a few more Christmas gifts to purchase, but I definitely did not come home empty handed. *By the way, please take note that I bought a pair of black boots. I would just like to point out that besides the cowboy boots I bought when I first moved to Dallas, this is the first pair of real boots I have ever bought. It's official: I now fit in :)

One of the shops we passed along the way

 I was also quite satisfied that I was even able to find my contact solution here, because I had convinced myself that the brand I use would not be sold anywhere in Italy. Not true - they do sell it, just for three times as much money.

By the end of the day, I was carrying a massive bag of all my new purchases, and we were exhausted. We stopped by the Piazza Navona market again to make sure we didn't miss anything, but shortly after that we headed home and did what the rest of the Italians do at 4:00 - took a nap.

Piazza Navona

 We woke up re-energized and hungry, so we made ourselves pasta (did you expect something else?) and got ready to go out one more time. We still had a few things we needed to get, so we visited a few shops close to her apartment and then headed home. Because I didn't want to rush to try to leave early in the afternoon, I had decided to just spend the night on Sunday and leave Monday morning. That meant we had the whole evening together. We went back home and chatted with the other girls for a little while and told them about our day.

In front of the Pantheon

All day long the girls had been so encouraging and sweet to me, even though we had only known each other for a few days. As we were laying on our beds listening to worship music, Anna (a different Anna from the one I had spent the day with) turned over and asked if she could hear my God story. I love how she worded it. She didn't ask to hear my testimony or how I came to know Christ. She asked to hear the story of God in my life. It's a beautiful thought, thinking of the Creator of the Universe working, molding, and shaping my life, and to be honest, it's not something I've thought about much lately. Before I knew it, I was sharing the struggles I have faced and the pain I have felt in the past year, piecing together as I spoke how God was at work through all of it and how He has had a plan for it all along.

Although the trials I've endured are not exactly over, I felt the encouragement of love from my sisters in Christ. They didn't know me very well. They had no reason to sit and listen to my emotions and my story. But they did. And not only did they listen, but they cared, they empathized, and then they encouraged. We had some great discussion afterward about things we had learned or were learning from God's Story - the Bible. Even greater still was the girls' request to pray for me before our time was through. What a shower of encouragement and blessing, to be surrounded by lovers of Christ who love Him enough to love others - to love me - at a time when I needed it most.

To top the night off, I had the most delicious gelato in Rome. The girls are friends with the owner, so we tried pretty much every unique flavor you could think of. I ended up with a cup of Biscotti, Ricotta and Pear, and Nutella. Um... delicious?... Yes!

My train left from the end of these tracks. Understand my frustration?

The next day was one of the worst days I have had so far. I got up incredibly early (6 something - ugh no one should ever have to see that hour) in order to take a train to the main station so that I could take another train home to Foligno. My first train was five minutes late, so I ended up arriving in Roma Termini station (a huge and very hectic train station) 10 minutes before my train to Foligno left. I thought I would be dropped off on a platform close to my next train, but things never turn out like you expect. Instead of arriving at platform 8 as I had expected, I was at platform 26. The train to Foligno was at Platform 1. I looked ahead of me, looked across the tracks, and looked all the way back down to where I would have to run to get on the train. I still hadn't bought my ticket, and don't forget that I was carrying a backpack, purse, winter coat, and bulging shopping bag that weighed about 20 pounds. I was a mess. I dashed through the station, weaved through people, smashed into other people, and thought I was going to die I was so out of breath. I bought my ticket and ran and ran and ran some more, until I just couldn't go any further. I got to my platform, just in time. The train wasn't there. I looked up at the kiosk to make sure it was the right platform and realized that instead it was about another quarter mile down the way, to the very outermost platform of the whole station. I walked. As I was walking, panting, and sweating, I watched the train back out of the platform and roll away. It was 7:43 am.

I tried to be positive and think about the good that could come of my missing the train. I had two hours before the next train (which cost twice as much...of course), so I could definitely enjoy a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese Biscuit from the McDonald's nearby. Wrong. I forgot... this is Italy. We eat pastries and croissants for breakfast, and that does not include Egg McMuffins. Don't even try suggesting it because you are just a heretic if you do. When that idea failed, I found a pizza place that was open (because it's okay to eat pizza at eight in the morning, but not Sausage Biscuits) and indulged in a very large piece of ham and cheese pizza.

My pizza... still not as good as a Sausage Biscuit ;-)

 I'm going to skip the rest of that day, because I was not in a pleasant mood and wasn't too fond of Italy for a few moments during that day. Thank goodness the next day came to redeem my attitude a bit.

Martina invited me over to a friend's house for dinner on Tuesday night. It's Italy, so she picked me up at 10:00 pm when she finished her volleyball game. We arrived at her friend's house and drove up to a beautiful and huge home situated on a hill and overlooking the city of Foligno. Inside the cozy home we found seven girls (Martina's teammates) sitting at a round table, each with a pizza in front of her. There were two open seats. Martina and I sat down and dove right into the pizza.

The rest of the night was filled with hysterical laughter, comical attempts at English and Italian, and playful shouting matches. The girls were fascinated by my American background and kept asking questions about what things are really like in the U.S., as opposed to just in the movies. They couldn't believe we actually have balls in high school called Prom and that students really put their books in lockers. I assured them that these ideas are true and that the movies are usually pretty accurate when it comes to things like that.

After a late, late night, I went home and crashed for very short four hours. But it didn't matter. I am content :) I have had encouragement when I'm down, sharpening when I'm weak, laughter when I'm sad, and company when I'm lonely. God has been good. He has provided what I began to fear would never come. I have wonderful friends :)