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.