January 22, 2011
People will tell you “have the time of your life,” especially when you embark on something really special- like studying abroad in Europe. People did tell me, but they didn’t have to- it didn’t really even hit me when they told me or still tell me. What hits me is when I realize I AM HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE. The Verona wind was still and chill, but it knocked me out of my boots!
I’d like to dive into describing my day as a vagabond Verona princess…but, first I’m going to slowly swim into last nights "shinding". “CHELSEA CHELSEA CAROLINA CAROLINA….” The romantic roars of Italian men shouting Chelsea’s and my name was heard while we were next door in Elle and Kristin’s room with Mark and Lee sipping on wine as we were waiting to head downstairs to the Rec room for a graduation party for Francesco. Nope, we don’t know who Francesco is…just yet. And we don’t know any of the Italian men shouting our names either. Our names our posted on our door over a magazine ad of “La pasta fresche.” Fresche men indeed. Francesco, graduation guy, was wearing a polizia hat and put it on my head and we all headed down the hall and down the stairs of Alma Mater Collegio to, well to have the time of our lives.
Oh what a night! A school party has never been so fun; in fact a party has NEVER been so fun! The Italian students worked the bar and the “concierge guy” at the front entrance of the school was the rocking DJ (who started off the night with hp 90’s and 2000’s American songs) then played some salsa? And then finally italiano! But, there was a half time show consisting of the Italian Beach Boys- full out in bathing suits and hula leis- singing “Hotel California” to Francesco with their own lyrics. Francesco studied in California…good song pick. Chelsea, Gia, Kristin and I were dancing the night away and all the Italian guys wanted me to dance with Francesco so next thing I know, I’m singing Hotel California with the “Beach Boys” and dancing with the graduation man. He held a gnome over his head (yes, I am wondering why as well) and a huge pitcher of home made wine in his hand- and apparently “this is ‘IT’aly!” initiation to have the wine spilled all over you! (Just ask Gia, Chelsea or me…we smelled and tasted like wine the entire night). No problems. I danced the night away and was even carried and thrown in the air- as several others were. I danced with an anonymous Italian man, although I wish it was Victorio the II. Gia and I were parched and in need of water- not wine this time- and Giorgio Lucca offered to get us a bottle of water and we ended up with Mari and several other Italian guys who liked Chegevarra- I told them I was Cuban and the conversation quickly ended. Wine was running through my veins and on me- literally. I had been initiated. As the wine stung my eyes, I was falling even more in love with Italy. My eyes have been poisoned with the greatest venom- wine.
Speaking of… Oh Juliet Capulet “what did you ever do to a man that he killed himself over!?”- Chelsea Audibert en route to Verona, Italy home of the Casa di Giulietta while I avidly poured my heart out into a letter I would leave at the casa. The quote was Chelsea’s attempt at composing a letter as well.
Chelsea, Elle, Kristin, Mark, Lee and myself woke up four hours after going to bed- bought a one way ticket to Verona and headed off on train to the most incredulous city! Exhausted I was to get up at first- but now I am so much more awake and alive and enriched. I am exhausting myself but am wide-awake.
I had second thoughts about blogging this letter, but a second thought turned into my blogging it- if the ladies of Giulette (or a stranger who picks up my letter) reads it I than anyone can. (I kept my rough rough and rough draft):
Dear Juliet,
I read Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet as a freshman in high school. I was fifteen years old at the time and am now venti (twenty) years old.
When I was fifteen I didn’t know what love was (besides the love of my family and friends). Do I know what love is now? I wish I could tell you. I could tell you I believe I’ve fallen in love twice- but then that makes me wonder what makes the “love of your life” so different than your other “loves?”… “How do you know?”
“How do you know” may seem like a childish question- and maybe I’m still a child to love- but children have the biggest, loving hearts. Whether or not they know what love is makes me wonder if that is why they are so loving- because they don’t need a concrete answer, they just love.
My mom tells me I’ll know, and my mother is my Juliet- a beautiful loving wife turned into a selflessly loving mother. I trust her, but I guess I’m just scared- like a child.
Each love is different for it is a different relationship. Both of my loves have been different. Both of them having been loving. And I’ve loved them both dearly. Both differently.
Love is a whole heart made of two people’s hearts- and I always give my heart wholeheartedly to the people I love. Sometimes I give so much that I feel I’ve lost balance between being able to explore, create, find myself as an individual and I end up feeling and finding that I won’t allow myself to gain from the relationship and fully loving the person.
So I guess my question to you is, oh Giulietta (as I have learned to spell your proper name), “How do you know…this love is for the both of us?”
Sinceriamenti,
Carolina M. Dominguez
Okay, so I really don’t think my “question” was what I was really aiming to ask but I felt like I needed to ask her a question- just like in the movie. And just like my friend Megan did. She e-mailed me her letter and I folded hers and mine together and was ready to hand them over to the ladies…until we finally arrived (what awe!) and it cost too much to do so and nobody really did it! I was determined thought. After touching Giulietta’s left (not right) golden breast…and laughing at Mark and Lee and the other men who did) I found a wooded door to the castle and partially slipped our letters under. I took a picture and left it to whoever found them to do what they liked- hopefully respond! (Everyone knows love). On the way out of the “casa” I founded a better little nook by the door and ran back to where I had left the letters, grabbed them and replaced them in this so perceived better location for someone to find. (P.S: Megan, I did my best and I hope we get responses from someone, anyone!)
On the train, I was conversing about my love life to the girls- love life. Love is life- whatever love it may be, most importantly- love your life. Let your own life stand out to you- like the little mamey colored houses we passed on the train that stood out “on the infinitely green grass” of Italy- even in wintertime. It is quite baffling how even Florida grass does not maintain such vivacity and God given green-ness (ps: Mi amico alliteration! –I love alliteration!)
I finished my straccieleta gelato- my first Gelato thus far!! While in Giulietta’s castle- I found myself devouring both the castle and the place. Chelsea and I stopped for gelato at Andrea’s (a man) gelato shop. He was a lovely man with lovely gelato. We saw him later on strolling the streets and he stopped us, recognized us and wished us a wonderful afternoon in Verona- the people are so wonderful here (except in the train station, but I think that implies to any train station anywhere in the world).
I wore my great grandmother’s self-knitted hat the entire day- and I almost lost her 99 times (about as many times as the years she lived!) Thankfully she returned home with me- it’s hard to keep track of that shaggy ol' gal. Kind of like me today… I stopped to take some pictures of works of art that reminded me of my sisters (a ballerina for Ali and two little angels- me and Sofia) and all of a sudden the group of “successful first time train riders to an Italian city” were out of sight! I stopped, looked at a fountain- and then silently prayed “Dear Saint Anthony I AM LOST please help me be found” So St. Anthony pushed me forward and I began to walk, the speed walk, the sprint- my great grandmother waving on my head about to fall off- when I see Kristin and Elle laughing at me- and then I began to laugh too! More out of relief. Alessandra and Sofia, see what you do to me!
That left me out of breathe- unlike the 368 steps down (we took the elevator up, and me, Lee and Elle were the only ones to not take it down) of the Torre dei Lambert. While elevorating or walking up and down the tunnel you can see the different materials used- tuff, brick, marble. It is the highest tower of Verona and a Veronese poet and writer called Simenoi wrote about the tower: “It is a thin light that heights its solemnity to assert the most clarion call to the beauty and life of a Verona, collected under her maternal protection.”
Standing on the bridges of Verona were just as illuminating as standing atop the tower! Some regatzza in the gelato shop told us Verona is a city of 9 bridges- like Bologna is of towers.
I’ve said before in my head, or even in my journal, that sometimes I feel like crying because the world is so beautiful and there is not enough time to see it. Today I did not think there was never enough time to see the world- I was seeing the world without time (ironic we hadn’t bought our return ticket yet). And my heart was crying because my eyes were seeing what my heart was feeling- Verona: Victorian, marble, clean, enchanting, love-ly, painters, gelaterias, Andrea’s, school children on the bus- so blessed school children to learn from this city!, fake guards at the castle who invited Chelsea to lunch and me to coffee- (I whacked his very own sword against his golden plastic abs).
My heart felt so big in Verona- it was so full of Verona- My heart hurts writing about it now, it is still so full of Verona. It will always be full of Verona.
We entered Verona following an arrow to the buses. We were following our unknown desires. We never payed a bus for the rides- no locals did- but we paid to use the restrooms. The buses took us everywhere our legs did not (and let me tell you…our legs took us all over and far... even Elle in her wedged boots!...although she took a breather at Mark’s one must visit stop- the soccer stadium, which after finally seeing said “well, that was the crappiest stadium I’ve seen.”- Oh what a laugh. That was the only “crappy” part and it was still nice. I found a set of books, OH MY MY TREASURE! “TRASHCAN TREASURE”- as Elle called it. I resorted to keeping the smallest book, as to be able to keep it forever and always and have it fit with my things on the way home (how sad). The book is titled “Idea Bambino-Le favole de mangiare”- a children’s cooking book that turns food into lovely creations- like penguins- for children. I read it on the bus- it helped me clear up some Italian words surprisingly- but didn’t lead me to appetize any of the food as I was experiencing my first encounter with a smelly Italian man sitting next to me.
Although the tiny prosciutto sandwich I had for breakfast was delitziosi! I used to eat prosciutto sometimes on the boat while in Eliot Key- but now I eat it all the time from it’s very homeland!
Verona, Italy is not Bologna, Italy. But, I must say I am happy to be studying in Bologna, although not as beautiful its is still invigorating and enriching.
Bits of Bologna:
It was first settled by the Etruscans during the 6th century B.C, the Romans, Lombards and the Papacy subsequently occupied it until the Italian unification in 1860. Each of these ruling entities has left a distinct mark on Bologna, as can be seen from the varied architecture, the wonderful cuisine and the dialect spoken by the cities inhabitants.
With the opening of the Emilian Way, the city became a major crossroads for trade throughout the Roman Empire.
Throughout Italy, Bologna is known by 4 nicknames, each of which highlights a different aspect of the city:
1. “Bologna la grassa”, literally means “Bologna The Fat”- refers to the famous Bolognese food, reputedly the best in all of Italy, as well as to the city’s wealth and prosperity.
2. “Bologna La Dotta,” meaning Bologna the learned. Founded in 1088, the University of Bologna is the OLDEST UNIVERSITY IN EUROPE! It includes the ranks of Dante, Copernicus and Petrarch!! Presently the University is home to 90,000 students pursuing degrees in subjects including literature, medicine (oh Francesco the Dentist who lives in front of me), the physical sciences and jurisprudence.
3. “Bologna La Turrita,” meaning the city of Towers (Chelsea and I quickly figured that one out on day one). The city’s skyline was pierced by over 180 towers in the middle ages constructed by its wealthiest and most influential families as statements of power and means of defense. A stroll through the picturesque Pizza Magiore and down Via Rizolli will lead you to two such towers referred to as the Due Torre. These towers built by the Asinelli and Garisenda families, are the most examples of the monuments that once filled Bologna and are commonly used as symbols of the city.
4. “Bologna La Rossa,” or “Bologna The Red.” This nickname not only describes the predominant color of the city’s buildings, but also refers to its political history. Except during fascism, Bologna was governed by the left from 1913 through 1999(even after I was born!), and again from 2004 to the present.
Oh Bologna you are now my city.
I fell out of the train and onto a lady who was eager to board. I repeated ten times fastly, “sorry sorry sorry…” x10” My interpretation is: I had to fall out of the train because I didn’t want to leave. St.Anthony pushed me out again. I shall be found in Bologna.
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