on the other side of the world

Once again, I feel the need to preface the recanting of the events from this past weekend with a disclaimer: none of this is real. I'm on the other side of the earth with no responsibilities aside from trying to budget as efficiently as possible (and oops? going to class?). This is fantasyland, in which things that used to matter, petty things, don't even remotely cross your mind, let alone have any gravity. My life revolves around doing things I've only barely dared to admit could be possible and eating probably the best food anyone has ever eaten, ever. In the gastronomical history of our race's existence, I have won the jackpot, I humbly invite you all to let the jealousy devour you.

This weekend, myself and eight others from the program went to Bologna. Known as the grassa (fat) and dotta (learned) city, Bologna feels as if someone took the coolest, most chill college town and morphed it with some of the most impressive Romanesque architecture, and put God's Chef in charge to run the whole thing. Being largely ignorant of geography and its implications, I failed to take into account the altitude change from the Florence to Bologna. We left Florence at it's usual; about 50 degrees, sunny, and green. The train ride to Bologna took us under the Appenines, and after emerging from a tunnel we were in for about five minutes, we saw everything was blanketed in snow. As my roommate Becca aptly put it, it was like we just got out of the closet and were now in Narnia. I was really confused and kind of panicky seeing as I clearly wasn't dressed appropriately. Luckily, Maria sent me like eight silk long sleeved undershirts (along with a book light, travel clock, hostess cupcakes, and two utensils that are a spoon on one side and a fork on another. My mother thinks I'm camping).

Our Villa RA had given us a really good recommendation for a hotel in Bologna and it turned out to be really nice and fairly priced. AND they gave us breakfast in the mornings, complete with to-go packets of Nutella, I had a field day with that. The only thing was that the toilet flushed selectively, but the bathroom was redeemed by the towel-warmer, yum! I just used "toilet" and "yum" in the same sentence.

The city of Bologna is incredibly vibrant and vivacious. There were tons and tons of colonnades along the streets, with great shopping as well. Our first stop was the University of Bologna section of the city, near the OTHER less famous leaning tower in Italy, the leaning tower of Bologna. Random. The university part of the city was really fun, there were college kids everywhere and it definitely reflected in the energy of the city. The University was founded in 1088, so everything has been built in conversation with this feature of the city. The nightlife was fantastic, there are a ton of university bars, our favorite shot bar was called "Bar College History". I think I get where they were going with that one but the execution wasn't too smooth. I think mostly all the Bologna U kids made fun of us for being a group of 9 obnoxious Americans who don't know where they were going, but whatevs. As I've already learned, there is no escaping Italian's disgust and ridicule. We went to this "Irish Pub" (every bar that isn't a discoteca is an "Irish pub" in Italy) that we ended up really liking.

I am rapidly running out of ways to describe food, both Villa food and the food we ate in Bologna. Instead of trying to encapsulate the gravity of the deliciousness of the individual meals, suffice it to say that more often than not, the sight of the composition of the plate combined with the smell emanating from it makes most of us go silent with reverence. Upon actually tasting the food (my friend Kate is the best at this), out of amazement, we put down whatever utensil we were holding, catch each other's eyes to affirm it's actually real, and then put our heads down for a couple seconds, trying to grasp the enormity of it all. I am not exaggerating, this happens almost every meal. Then commences the instinct to scarf everything down in a blink of an eye, which we painfully resist, trying to savor every moment. Lastly comes the Torture of the Last Bite, in which one realizes this is the last time (in the near future) we will get to taste whatever it is we were eating. It's a horribly vexing moment, in which your taste buds are immersed in bliss but your mind is in agony, grappling with the undeniable truth that the meal, is in fact, over.

I know that sounds insane, but it's honestly how most of us feel.

Back to Bologna, the second day we went to find the main piazza, Piazza Maggiore, which was enormous and awesome. An art group from Milan was rolling out these gigantic sheets of white paper and opening buckets of paint, asking any passersby to paint on it for them, for some kind of country-wide social art contest. We took this and ran with it, had so much fun, took tons of pictures, et cetera. I think we were all kind of high off that experience, and we spent the rest of the day walking around basically goofing off and enjoying the sights.

Three days, two nights, immeasurable bus and cab rides later, I find myself pleasantly exhausted. A day or two of homework catch-up and repose, and then off to Rome with the entire Villa!! Ciao for now!