Emily Hyder Profile: Emily is a junior from Glendora, CA, majoring in English with an emphasis in writing. Currently, she is at Oxford University in England studying C.S. Lewis and Jane Austen. She will travel off to Tuscania, Italy in January for another great semester abroad! Interests: God, family, food, books, music, movies, writing, photography, and the outdoors.   Personal Blogsite    Recent Posts Living Literature - 04.22 Ponderations - 04.16 Translation, please - 04.09 An American in Paris - 04.01 La Vita Tuscania - 03.18 Midterm Madness - 03.11 Transportation adventures... - 03.04 Verde Italia - 02.27 A day in the life of... - 02.19 Gumby Girl - 02.12 Ciao a Tuscania! - 01.28 Cookie-Cutter College - 01.21  Archive: Fall 2007

 Tuesday, April 29, 2008 

List Making Merriment

I know I’ve mentioned my propensity towards list making in pervious posts, but I would have been a fool to think this particular personality quirk wouldn’t pop up again. It’s too much of an integral part of my mental processes to disappear for long – especially when important or milestone-ish things are creeping slowly into the forefront of my consciousness. As the conclusion of my semester in Italy (and year abroad) draws closer, at an alarmingly rapid pace, I have begun to seek the satisfying solace of list making.

There is something methodical and gratifying about constructing and completing a list; and then there’s the deliciously satisfying feeling of accomplishment as you tick off want-to-dos, need-to-dos, and should-dos one by one. After many years of this past time, I believe crafting a successful list is a true art form.

It’s important to set parameters before starting a list – Is this an afternoon list, a two-day list, or a wildest dream list? Also, a certain balance must be achieved between the items on the list so you can start crossing off, checking, or circling completed items straight away. For example: On a list of “To do on Wednesday,” I might write ‘shower’ or ‘bring camera to cooking class’ beside ‘plan trip to Florence’ and ‘write literature paper.’ Including the obvious lightens the daunting difficulty of other, more obscure items, allowing the immediate satisfaction of seeing the items diminish.

Half the fun for me is creating the list, so I spend time making it aesthetically pleasing: pretty paper, color-coding, and fancy fonts. This, of course, is optional and novice listers should probably stick to old favorites like legal pads or post-its. The meat of a list is individual; a personalized compendium of goals, reminders, errands, etc. Themes – What to accomplish over Spring Break, Recipes to try from Paula Deen’s new cookbook, Places to go before turning fifty – are sometimes helpful but not necessary.

With all of these guidelines in mind, I began making a list for my last three weeks in Italy. It’s one of those running lists, a large empty spot after the last item just begging for a new addition.
Here is what I have so far:

To Do ~ Last Three Weeks in Italy

• Walk within the walls of Tuscania for 30 minutes every day
• Visit the Vatican
• Try every pastry at Dolce Vita – I’m close…
• Plan a 7-day trip to Switzerland
• Lunch at Alfreda’s
• Read in the park
• Gelato once a week, at least
• Find a gift for Giordano, my amazingly generous cooking professor
• Write literature paper about Pirandello
• Look for a summer job
• Carry camera at all times
• Document meals for reconstruction at home
• Dinner at Sette Cannelle
• Buy souvenirs
• Eat more pears

 Tuesday, April 22, 2008 

Living Literature

Sharing a last name with two history encyclopedias (my brother and grandpa), listening to Denzel Washington’s out-of-breath, yet heartfelt, speech to rally together his segregated team members, and watching Gone With The Wind did little to bring the Civil War closer to my twenty-first century life. It wasn’t until I stepped onto a bleak, undeveloped portion of the battlefield in Gettysburg that reality sunk in. On that morning, as I made footprints in the damp grass, once saturated with blood, the Civil War became a fact instead of a distant piece of America’s past.

I don’t consider myself one of those people who has to “do” to learn; but, there is something permanent and vivid about being physically and visually aware of a concept usually experienced through scholarly pursuits like reading and lectures. I think that’s why a favorite elementary school fieldtrip was going to Willowbrook Farm in Oak Glen, CA. Workers dressed in period costume, demonstrating how to spin wool and make apple cider.

The appeal of living history also applies to my other studies. I’m an English major because molding and manipulating the English language is stimulating to me. I’ve never been fond of analyzing literature. And yet, I chose to spend a semester in Oxford studying two major British authors and am now immersed in the masterpieces of Italian literature. Scholastically, the most rewarding part of my study abroad experience has been connecting the plots, setting, and people in a tangible way – living the literature.

Discussing Austen’s roll as both social historian and social critic in Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility by no means a chore. However, dancing around the empty Assembly Rooms in Bath, picturing a reserved Anne Elliot amidst the swarm of society and rambling around the lush gardens of Chatsworth Hosue imagining Mr. Darcy trying to escape the fine eyes of a certain Bennet sister, connected Austen’s words to my life.

I had a similar experience this last weekend while in Venice. Britney Holtgrewe, a friend from Jewell who has been studying in Nantes, met me for a two-day rendezvous in the city of Murano glass, gondolas, and pigeons. Venice is also the birthplace of Carlo Goldoni, a playwright whose works I just so happen to be reading in my Italian literature class. We stumbled upon the Teatro Goldoni on Friday night, after getting a bit turned around amidst the skinny alleys and bridges criss-crossing through the city. It’s easier to envision actors clad in elaborate masks performing “The Servant of Two Masters,” once you spend time in the city that inspired him.

 Wedesday, April 16, 2008 

Ponderations

During the past week – when I wasn’t hiking in the hills of Assisi, reading for pleasure, or eating tasty Umbrian cuisine – my mind has been grazing in the fertile field of memories from my Fall semester in Oxford. I think it was a combination of two things that gave my active herd of a brain an appetite for such reflections:

1. I registered for my last semester in college on April 4th, which required me to map out my schedule (although, I’m the type of person who creates “tentative four year plans” for fun so I already had some ideas in mind); thus causing me to retrace my journey through Jewell.
2. Spending the past 10 days with my parents brought my “other” world into view again (not a bad thing, actually). As I began to process what the next season of my life might hold, I couldn’t help but ponder how my two study abroad experiences have shaped my outlook.

I haven’t quite come out on the other side of that ponderation (I do believe I made that word up just now) but the comparison of my two study abroad programs was an interesting study. Here is a small chart to help visualize the differences.

These two programs are worlds apart in focus and function and have impacted me in vastly different ways; however, I wouldn’t have reaped the benefits of either experience without having completed or been anticipating the other.

Bottom line: Make room in your college years for studying abroad. Spend time looking for a program that enhances your goals and fits who you are as a person. Think about doing more than one type of study abroad experience. Get out of your box and just go for it!

 Wedesday, April 9, 2008 

Translation, please

My parents arrived Friday. After a rather nauseating minibus ride down to Rome (with the LdM Rome students who were in Tuscania for a field trip), me and Machiavelli settled into an armchair in the lobby of our hotel. My location gave me a prime view of the approaching buses and taxis. It was a bit difficult to concentrate on The Prince when I always had one eye on the window, on the look out for familiar faces. Needless to say, I was pretty excited to see my family (and the prospect of dipping into a fresh jar of JIF peanut butter – extra crunchy!). Plans for an international meeting with my mom last semester were unexpectedly cancelled, so the reality of this trip had been long anticipated.

Their stay in Italy is only half over (two more days in Tuscania and then the weekend in Assisi are still on the itinerary), but it has already been quite the experience. We spent the weekend doing a bit of wandering and lots of gelato eating in Rome. In order not to be constrained by public transportation of all sorts, we rented a car on Monday.

From our hotel on Via Nazionale, a main street in the center of the city, we zipped in and out of motorcycles, were flung into round abouts, and one way roads - all in search of the grand loop of highway that circumnavigates Rome. I sat buckled into the back seat, sending silent prayers for safety heavenward. My mom was anxiously trying to stem the tide of tears and nausea that had bombarded her the instant we started moving. Greg, my step-dad and designated driver for this excursion, valiantly kept road rage at bay while following the directions being projected loudly from our new GPS system.

“In three hundred meters keep straight and take the third right…keep straight, EXIT NOW.”

After the most tense two hours of my life, we arrived in Tuscania, physically all in one piece. My next obstacle was translating and interpreting for my parents and my host family. Even though I’m not the most adept person linguistically, I’ve been pleased with my progress in Italian. My ability to communicate, although slightly childlike in style and content, has become more fluid over the past two months.

I don’t think being a professional translator is my future calling, but things have been going smoother than expected. I did have a small faux pas with “porcupine.” It’s pork-u-speenay not pork-you-peen-ay…

 Tuesesday, April 1, 2008

An American in Paris

Just when I finally reached a comfortable level of Italian conversation ability, Easter break threw my brain into a linguistic jumble. Kristina Brase, a good friend and fellow Jewell student studying in Rome this semester, and Becca, an Ohio University student also studying in Tuscania, joined me for a 10 day holiday in France.

My tongue has never been so twisted and tied. I said “si” when I should have said “oui,” “grazie mille” when I should have automatically responded “merci beaucoup!” I had a hard time falling asleep one night before we left because I couldn’t for the life of me remember how to say please in French. Per favore was the only foreign phrase coming to mind (it’s “si-vous-plait,” just in case your 3 semesters of French left you completely blank as well.)

We spent four days in Paris ~ not nearly enough to see all of what the city has to offer. Paris felt more open and sprawling than Rome. If you could characterize Rome as the city of random ruins, Paris would be the city of random gardens. Despite the cold and overcast weather, Paris was still in bloom with riotous displays of multi-colored flowers. Rome is full of rustic historical charm, but I think I prefer the elegance and refinement that Paris exudes. Other than just wandering the wide streets lined with wooden stalls of old books, vintage posters, and beautiful paintings, The Eiffel Tower and Musée d’Orsay were my Paris highlights.

From every angle and every time of day, the iconic symbol of Paris lives up to the hype. My first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower was on the bus ride into the city from Beauvais airport. We climbed the 700 steps to the second platform the next day. It truly is monumental and when it sparkles…stunning! I liked the Musée d’Orsay because it houses a large collection of Impressionist work from Degas, Renoir, Monet, Manet, Sisley, Van Gogh, etc. I particularly liked one Monet that was displayed next to florals by Manet and Sisley – a hunk of raw meat (a t-bone I think) with a large clove of garlic sitting innocently in the corner. The contrast between Monet’s characteristic soft stroke and the rather visceral subject was comical and unexpected – plus, I tend to like all things food related.

An overnight train whisked us away to the French Riviera on Wednesday. Our amazing hostel (Villa Saint Exupery in Nice) was centrally located and had daytrips already completely mapped out for you. The morning we arrived we hung around the old town in Nice, taking in the sights and scents of the daily flower market. Huge tents full of fresh blooms lined one side of the street. On the other side, baskets full of spices and tea, brightly colored soaps, and pastries, produce, and meats to please any gourmand spilled out from under striped awnings.

The last two days on the Cote d’Azur were spent traveling between Antibes, Cannes, Eze, and Monaco. I didn’t care much for Cannes or Monaco, although Cannes had the best beach. Both cities were saturated with wealth and not much else. Antibes was a pleasant mixture of Riviera life – sand, yachts, boutiques – without the commercial overtone of the other tourist towns. Eze was a tiny village set onto a steep hill overlooking the coast. Tiny alleys wind up to the summit where an exotic cactus garden tumbles down over the side and wraps its way back down to the base.

A 10 am – 10 pm travel day on the railways landed me back in Tuscania yesterday, now struggling to transition my meager French back to Italian. I fell asleep swaying to a non-existent train, repeating the Italian alphabet – ah, bi, chi, de, ay, effe…  

 Tuesday, March 18, 2008

La Vita Tuscania

The last couple of weeks in Tuscania were a pleasant blend of cultural and academic activities. My days here seem to have reached a happy level of familiarity and routine mixed with enough cultural surprises and shocks to keep things interesting. Here are a few snapshots from Tuscania to give you an idea of what I mean:

When I think of European sports, I think of football; soccer, that is, for Americans and calcio (cal – chi - o) for Italians. And it comes to mind rightfully so. Football is extremely popular, with rivalries tearing apart families (you think I’m joking…), starting riots, and generating tremendous loyalty. Basketball, on the other hand, is virtually unknown aside from a few regional leagues. Marco, our student advisor, happens to play in one of these local leagues. Unbeknownst to him, we found this out and decided to show our support.

A small contingent of us showed up at a Tuscania Ghosts’ game decked out in green and white, with large signs proclaiming “VAI (go) TUSCANIA” and “BU” (ghosts don’t say Boo in Italy because that would be pronounced ‘beau’) in tow. To our utter astonishment, we (5 people) were the majority of the crowd. Regardless, we had fun yelling at the refs, who couldn’t understand us anyways, and trying to get the other onlookers (two old men) to do the wave with us. The language barrier apparently doesn’t apply to enthusiasm, because the team responded to our antics and won the game. Come to think of it, the only games they’ve won are the ones where we’ve been cheering them on.

I had my favorite cooking lesson on Wednesday: pastry! Instead of cooking in the stainless-steel environment of the school kitchen, class was held in the rustic yet commercial work space of Voglia di Pane, our professor’s bakery. The menu – dulci and more dulci.

Giordano showed us how to make a basic sweet pastry dough, which we then transformed into crostadas and various types of biscotti. Italy is on the metric system so there were no measuring cups in sight. Ingredients (eggs, butter, sugar, baking powder, and flour) were weighed in grams on an industrial sized kitchen scale. I’ll admit, there was quite a bit of dough consumed before it could become little circles dusted with sugar or small rounds filled with jam. Giordano even let us get creative with the latticework on top of the crostadas.

Last week, I learned what you can’t do when there is no water. The main water pipe for Tuscania decided to combust overnight, causing flooding outside the walls of historic Tuscania. Major trenches were dug and work began. I though this was a temporary problem until people started to reinforce their water supply (reminiscent of Y2K…)

The prognosis – three days with no water for the whole city; and in Italy, that means five days. No water to drink (other than bottled). No water to flush the toilet. No water to wash hands or dirty dishes. No water to take a shower. No water to cook with. No water to keep plants alive. I brushed my teeth and washed my face with fizzy mineral water – a sparkling experience I can assure you.

I was lamenting the fact that I had decided to postpone my morning shower until after class… I’ve never been more conscious of how much I use water and why I use it. On my way home from class that night, I could see a yellow glow lighting the trenches where men were still working. And they worked all night, because when I woke up the next morning, my host mom happily announced – “abbiamo l’acqua” we have water! 

 Tuesday, March 11, 2008 

Midterm Madness

It’s been raining – a lot – and I have midterms approaching. Not a great combination, however, neither malady has permanently dampened my week.

Actually, I had my first midterm on Monday. It was technically a week early, but Antonella, mia professoressa, assured the class (me and two other students) that we would thank her later when we had one less test to worry about. Seeing as my other classes are more artistically inclined and don’t really have “midterms” per se, I’m not sure I concur. Regardless, I am glad to have one down (four to go) and am also pleased to report that it went well!

The class, Masterpieces of Italian Literature, is my most traditionally scholastic class. My syllabus describes the course as an introduction to “the great writers and thinkers who have shaped Italian literature and culture over a thousand years of history.” So far, that has included a brief stint with San Francesco D’Assisi, two classes (which amounts to five hours) discussing Dante and his Divina Comedia, love according to Petrarca (ie: through his “Canzoniere” or songbook), and the life and times of Boccaccio (which weren’t always that peachy due to the Black Death in Florence…).

I’m an English major, so I’ve had my fair share of literature courses – in three countries no less! But not one of them has been typical. Dr. Dunham was Mr. I’ll put you on the spot but be very kind no matter what drivel comes out of your mouth. Dr. Watkins challenged traditions. In Oxford, I had to match wits with a linguistic genius and a fellow Austen enthusiast. This semester, I’m learning about Italian literature from a woman who could care less about structure and format.

I was thrown off guard when she went over the specifics for our midterm paper. Her rules:

• DO pick whatever author and topic you want.
• DON’T quote more than a word or two of the text. Work under the assumption that I know what you are referring to.
• DON’T research what other scholars say about your topic.
• DO use I (this probably threw me off the most).
• DO respond to the topic in a personal manner and reflect on what strikes you as significant.

Sounds like a simple assignment. And yet I found myself rather lost within the midst of all the academic freedom. I eventually settled on San Francesco D’Assisi and how his “Cantico delle Creature” is a timeless example of lyric poetry that spans multiple centuries of literary tradition. After surfacing from a brief panic where I thought I wouldn’t be able to come up with a “personal” response (yes, that is completely irrational), I wrote my reflection – drawing parallels to Song of Solomon no less!

As I was gathering up my materials after the two and a half hour written exam yesterday (I happened to be the last to finish), Antonella mentioned that she liked my essay (hooray!). My surprise at her speedy perusal must have shown on my face because she kindly assured me that it wouldn’t be her last (boo-ray…). I’m hoping my response will still seem personal enough after multiple readings. 

 Tuesday, March 4, 2008 

Transportation adventures, again?

I think transportation issues are just my lot in life.

This weekend was my first extended trip in Italy since I’ve been here. Becca, a friend I met in Tuscania who studies in Ohio, went South for the weekend. We made Sorrento our base camp and took day trips to Capri (pronounced KAH-pree), Pompeii, and Amalfi. If I haven’t mentioned it before, one of the beauties and difficulties of living in Tuscania is actually getting out of Tuscania.

We took a 7:20am bus to Viterbo, one of the two towns closest to Tuscania that have train stations. Our itinerary was as follows: Viterbo – Orte (a city Northeast of Viterbo) – Roma – Napoli. The electronic monitors were not functioning so I check the board of departures hanging on the wall. Binario 3 for Roma – perfecto! We hop on the train. A rather frantic lady asks “a Milano?” Nope, “a Roma,” we reply, but this makes me nervous. The police decide to make a random check of our documents, so as they look over my passport I inquire whether the train is heading to Rome. Turns out we were indeed heading to Milan.

Long story short, we had to get off at the next stop and catch a different train to Rome. We finally reach Rome and get settled on a train to Naples when I realize we hadn’t validated our tickets and the conductor was coming our way. This wasn’t a problem, but we did have to pay 10 extra euros because unbeknownst to us, we were on an Intercity train which cost more than a Regionale train. Good grief – there should be a Italian Transportation 411 travel guide…

It didn’t stop there. We took the Circumvesuviana, the Italian Tube for the Napoli area all the way to Sorrento when we were supposed to take it to Piano di Sorrento, a different part of town 4 km away. Eventually, at 5 pm, we did make it to our B and B.

Despite all of this, our trip was great. We did the touristy things like the Blue Grotto in Capri and Pompeii in general, but we also used our feet to explore what most people don’t make the effort to see, like Anacapri, the small town above Capri. It took us 8 hours to get back to Tuscania on Monday – and nothing went wrong!

 Wedesday, February 27, 2008

Verde Italia

Italy has joined the ranks of Kermit, my friend Gumby, and the Jolly Giant. More than any place I’ve been thus far, Italy comes the closest to truly being that envious hue most countries are trying to attain, which now signifies more than new life and nausea – green.

One of the first things I noticed about my host family (and, later, about most of the people in Tuscania) was their energy awareness. The water heater for my bathroom is around the size of a toaster oven. Unnecessary lights are always switched off. Heat is used sparingly.

During our orientation, I heard someone say that Italy buys all their energy from France because they don’t want to mar the landscape with ugly power plants. A brief perusal of Wikipedia didn’t confirm the accuracy of this assertion (however appealing it may be), but I did find out that most of the raw materials needed by industry and more than 75% of Italian energy requirements are imported.

Whether the Italians conserve energy because of some deep-rooted hippie tendencies or because importation is darn expensive, the subsequent lifestyle is both addictive and aggravating. I’ve perfected the art of a five-minute shower – complete with hair-wash (long hair I might add) and scrub down. I’ve mastered the art of layering under sweatpants to avoid turning on the heater. I’m currently working on the art of walking in the dark.

As you can see, living in Italy is all about art, and not just Renaissance and Baroque kind…

 Tuesday, February 19, 2008

A day in the life of…

Life is so very different here. The difference is not just in my life as a student abroad, but the Italian way of life as well. To address the first part of that statement, here is what a typical weekday in Tuscania looks like for me:

Monday ~

8 am: Wake up! Usually I do this naturally because I leave my window open to allow the sun to filter in, but sometimes I do need my alarm.

8:30 am: I hear Loredana (my host mom) come downstairs. She sets out my breakfast – 3 thin slices of bread, cherry jam, and a cappuccino – eats her own and then delivers an espresso to Bruno (my host dad). I always have the same mug and placemat. I’ve taken to watching cartoons (in Italian of course) after Loredana goes back upstairs because they are easier for me to understand.

9-10 am: My only class on Monday’s, Masterpieces of Italian Literature, doesn’t start until 3:30 pm, so there’s no rush to get to school. I do my devotions and then shower up. Almost everyday this part of my routine is completed to the same booming soundtrack. Apparently our neighbor has a thing for Phil Collins and Heatwave.

10:02 am: I hit the library/computer lab. It’s a short two-minute jaunt to school and I’m usually one of the first people to arrive (aside from the three students who have class at 9 am). Monday is a big email day. My inbox is always overflowing after three days of no Internet activity.

11:30 am: Ashley, Cody, and Elizabeth are now out of class and we head to Blue Eyes, our favorite pizza a la taglia (pizza by the slice) place. Most of these “by the slice” joints have large flats of pizza that they cut to order and sell by the kg. I always think I’ll just drink wate, but I can’t resist the Fanta – the orange flavor in Europe is incredible!

1 pm: Back to the computer lab to finish up leftover business. All the stores are now closed so I try to use this “siesta” time to do school work. Currently that involves reading The Inferno. I’ve tried reading in the park just down the road from school; however, the amazing views of San Pietro and the valley below Tuscania are way too distracting when I’m trying to internalize Dante…

3:30 – 6 pm: Masterpieces of Italian Literature. Two and a half hours can be a bit rough sometimes. We get coffee breaks - enough said.

6:15 – 7ish pm: Becca and I get coffee. Our favorite bar (bar = café), Il Bistrot Rifugio, is closed on Mondays so we have been going to Café Duomo. Italians don’t really linger over their coffee so we try not to stay too long, but last week we met an older fellow from Sardinia/Berlin who kept us entertained for quite a while.

8 pm: La Cena (dinner)! The later eating hours took a bit of getting used to. With the help of Nutella and breadsticks, I manage… The TV is always on during meals. CheTempCheFa, an Italian variety/talk show is our dinner program. Loredana prepares simple food that is always excellent. During the week we usually just have some type of meat sautéed in olive oil, a vegetable (the artichokes are my favorite), and salad dressed in olive oil, (it really should be its own food group) a splash of white wine vinegar, salt, and pepper. Bread is always stacked next to my plate.

10 – 11 pm: I read or finish homework before calling it a day.

I definitely can’t complain.

 Tuesday, February 12, 2008 

Gumby Girl

Already, my Italy experience has been worlds (countries, in fact) different than my previous term abroad. In retrospect, England doesn’t register too high on the adjustment scale. I learned how to ride public transportation and discovered the wonderful world of hobnobs. In Italy, on the other hand, I am completely immersed in all the aspects of a brand new culture.

I’m beginning to feel like the little green being with a rubber body that we all know and love. But the similarities are more about the stretch factor and less about transforming into a cute play-thing. Living with a family has forced me to be flexible and malleable with regards to adopting the Italian lifestyle.

With each new experience, my limbs are being pulled farther and farther away from my body, leaving a very vulnerable core exposed to the elements of (in the words of Dante, who I’m studying in Masterpieces of Italian Literature) mi vita nouva – my new life – in Tuscania. Every time I pick up a new phrase or expression, eat a new food, interact with a new friend, or visit a new place, I’m pulled even further out of the “Emily mold” I arrived in. Pretty soon I’ll have an arm in Milano and a foot in Napoli.

This stretching process is intensified by the fact that all of these new experiences are in a different language! Tuscania is enough removed from urban life that virtually no English is spoken or understood. I’m not much of a conversationalist in English (hence my love of the written word), let alone trying to communicate in a foreign language. Like last night; I was trying to politely excuse myself from the dinner table by saying that I had to read some Dante for homework. I managed “Lego Dante” (I read Dante), hoping that they would understand that I was going to do that right now. But, because I don’t know the past tense yet, they took it as a random dinner table comment.

I can only imagine the scene in America: sitting around the dinner table; it’s quiet except for the news going on the television and someone out of the blue announces that they read Dante. Well, I read Plato too, but that doesn’t give me license to break the ice with that kind of comment.

Despite all of these stretching scenarios, Gumby and I have one very important difference – I don’t think I’ll be springing back into the same shape with as much alacrity as my rubbery, green chum. My elasticity is less about staying the same and more about acquiring flexibility. I won’t return to the States packaged in the same mold. And that’s the goal.

 Monday, January 28, 2008

Ciao a Tuscania!

If I closed my eyes, I could imagine my weak knees and jolting stomach were the product of a wild rollercoaster. I wouldn’t have to see all the cars we were narrowly missing as we curved and swerved around the skinny road to Tuscania at breakneck speed. Mossimo, our van driver, certainly lived up to the Italian motorist stereotype.

Tuscania, a small, medieval Italian city is where six other students (from Ohio to Mexico) and I will be living and learning for the next three and a half months. The school, Lorenzo de Medici, is built into the walls of the historical center of town. Skinny cobblestone streets criss-cross their way through tall blocks of multi-colored buildings.

I live in one of these buildings, a short walk from the school. Bruno and Loredana Ricci, the couple who have graciously allowed me to stay in their home, are very patient with my complete lack of Italian language skills. My blank stares and apologetic shrugs are received with kind, sympathetic smiles. However, it’s frustrating for me not to be able to express my own appreciation and gratitude for their kindness. I never imagined how comforting and important communication could be to receive and to give.

My time Italy has already been worlds different than my term in Oxford and it’s only been one day. I can’t wait to see what three more months will hold!

Ciao.

 Monday, January 21, 2008

Cookie-Cutter College

I’m in a sort of no man’s land, hanging between what is typical of a junior in college and what is not so normal. On August 27th, two weeks before I left for Oxford, I was feeling the same way and characterized the sensation as being “out of place.” After completing that semester in Oxford, I would like to recharacterize that sensation.

The feeling is more one of amazement and incredulity that more people don’t take every opportunity to tailor their education to best suit themselves and their goals. One of the coolest things about William Jewell is that it really lives up to its “Liberal Arts” label. Jewell emphasizes taking an individual approach to learning and harnessing the opportunities therein. I’m not just talking about studying abroad sometime during those fast four years either.

I just got back from a short trip to Kansas City. Family and friends I hadn’t seen in seven months were the main draw but I also needed to meet with my academic advisor to make sure all was in order for my December 2008 graduation. Amidst the talk of general education (I guess I should call it CTI, but it’s still Gen Ed to me…) requirements and fall scheduling, I was able to bounce a few ideas around for an honors project and an art minor that you probably wouldn’t find in the course catalog.

Everyone’s excitement and willingness to work with me and my not so normal ideas reminded me how lucky I am to attend a school where individual education is valued and encouraged. Yes, my junior year is atypical partly because I made purposeful decisions to not have a cookie-cutter college experience, but also because the college I attend supports and encourages those decisions.

So, exactly one week from today, I will be flying to Italy for one more semester abroad. The program isn’t affiliated with Jewell, but because I made the effort and Jewell was more than willing to work with me, I’m spending my second to last semester in college living and learning in Tuscania, Italy.