Last Wednesday was one of those days that reminded me of the word I heard so much when I was applying to the Study Abroad program: immersion. After all of the built-up apprehension and pre-exam jitters, I did it. I made it through my first Italian exam! Although it was a written exam instead of the typical oral one that differentiates Italy’s academic system from ours, it was an amazing feeling passing in that test! I’d refer to my post-exam mood as an “Italy high”, or as we say more frequently amongst our group here, “a good Italy day.” I don’t know if I’ve used this expression before, but it’s become a phrase that is very appropriate for my study abroad experience. Now that my everyday routine has gradually lessened the magical awe of Italy from when I first arrived, it’s always very noticeable to me when I’m doing something very Italian. Luckily, our director from the Universita’ degli Studi a Firenze, Elisa, plans monthly cultural events for us where we can have these types of Italian experiences. Our events have run the gamut from a Chianti wine and olive tour to a night out for dinner and a variety show at the famous Teatro Verdi. Last Wednesday, our cultural event took a more artistic turn as we all got our chance to learn the history of the Teatro della Pergola, an ancient theatre right on my home street in Florence, followed by our own workshop time at an “artigianato” (handicraft) typical of Italy and Toscana. Our group was split up into two — one that created their own picture frames and mine that created our own leather-bound notebooks or journals, whatever purpose we would choose for them. Passing by the theatre everyday on my walk to school always made me want to pop in and see the beautiful interior, but I never had a good reason to enter before since I wasn’t buying any tickets or things of that sort. We had a wonderful tour guide who spoke with such a passion for the theatre that even in the overheated rooms, I couldn’t help but to listen as she spoke of the famous ancient families of Toscany that had their reserved viewing boxes, elegantly displayed by each family’s respective coat of arms that are still saved to this day in the entrance room of the theater! We received a complete tour of the theater, including both the back and front stage views as well as a glimpse to the ancient devices used for sound effects such as wind and rain. This upcoming weekend, we will actually be attending a play there so I’ll have to update soon on how one of the theater’s annual 160 plays fares with the Holy Crossers and myself. Chi sa! Who knows!

Right after the theatre visit, we went our separate ways, and with Elisa’s upbeat and energetic assistant, Cristina, we walked to a little artisan store a couple blocks from the Ponte Vecchio called “Il Torchio.” The shop was quaint and exactly what I imagined a traditional handicraft store to be. It was run by a lovely, older Italian woman named Anna, who works closely with a young, Canadian girl, Erin, teaching her the ways of the trade. It was a great afternoon, and I particularly enjoyed watching Erin work with Anna. Not only was Erin’s Italian impeccable after being in Italy for only two years, but the grandmother-granddaughter relationship between the two was simply comical and a pleasure to watch. They instructed us from start to finish on the initial sewing of the pages together; adding the hard covers with the messy and very intense glue; meticulously applying the leather pieces to the spine and the angles for a balanced finish with our personally selected paper designs; and cleaning up our mess with a finisher over the leather. The whole process lasted over 3 hours, but it was a true glance into the painstakingly slow and precise world of the artisan. All of the shop’s books, calendars, agendas, photo albums, and things of the like were handmade. And with a shop being run by just these two ladies, you can only imagine how much time and energy is put into the work! And so, with yet another monthly peek into the secret cultural world of Florence that I hope to continue to unravel, I can only say that it simply was a “good Italy day.”

 It’s back to Florence for the semester! After quite the extended break of celebrating with my family and friends at home in America, I made my return to Europe for yet another celebration, or should I say two. Along with Whitney, we took a flight out from Boston to meet up with another Fiorentina, Amanda, to spend our New Year’s and my 21st birthday in Paris!!! Arriving on the 30th in the city of love and, of course, the Eiffel Tower, our vacation kicked off with rolling in the New Year just underneath this historical landmark where we three, along with another 15 HC-ers met up together for a true Holy Cross reunion. And even better, just two days later, I was able to spend my birthday walking along the snow-covered streets of Montmartre and sipping “vin chaud” (hot wine) with a view of the entire city at night. It was a vacation to remember, for sure. And now, I’ve returned to my second home — my Florence.

As for the academic life, we didn’t have much time to breathe because the Italian school system, as we’re learning, has many differences from the American universities. Exams take place over a period of two months, offering two “tries” to earn a degree of passing. Obviously, we all opted for the first opportunity to have a break from university before the next semester begins at the end of February. Having two exams in the first semester has proven to be very difficult for me, and I’ve been spending much time studying between lessons with my tutors as well as having our normal lessons at our language school, Dante Alighieri. However, do not be afraid — it is a doable thing. Going into it knowing what you are up against is my best advice for everyone. Matt and I took Geografia, a two-part class dealing with the relationship between the population and the environment, and branching out into a basic economic understanding of the market and general world economy up until this period of time. With this type of course, it requires two exams —a n oral and a written exam. Once that one is finished, it will be just two more to go, and I can say hello to the official start of a new semester. It’s a strange feeling being here and watching all the new students arriving, frantically carrying around their maps and struggling with their Italian. I look at them, and I feel the smile on my face, remembering how that was once me. And now, I’m ready to enjoy myself and take my language level to the top. But before I get carried away with myself, keep your fingers crossed for me for my exams!

A presto!

I just wanted to send in a final entry to say thank you to everyone who took the time to read my blog. I'm really happy to be back in America but I think I may be suffering from a case of reverse culture shock. All the luxuries that I always took for granted now seem overwhelming. I donated most of my clothes because after having maybe 5 outfits in Sri Lanka I couldn't understand how to dress myself with so many options.

However, I think my two biggest cases of reverse culture shock definitely come in the form of food and hot water. I'm sure most study abroad students are ecstatic to return to the food they grew up with but for me every time I eat it's somewhat blissful. I think that's because, as I mentioned a million times in previous blogs, my host family and I had a difficult time finding food that wasn't way too spicy for me. The hot water thing isn't as exciting as food but hot showers really do seem like a blessing now. However, I am way more aware that hot water and excess food are luxuries that much of the world lives without.

All in all, I'm really happy I took the opportunity to study abroad. I learned so much about myself and not to mention about parts of the world I had never really studied before. I think studying abroad is an awesome way too step out of your comfort zone and if you have a really big comfort zone make the leap and spend a semester in Sri Lanka.

As I write this I'm on the last leg of my journey, a phenomenally long flight from Hong Kong to JFK. In the excitement that has been the past two weeks of my life I seemed to forget to find time to blog. I figured I would use this entry to give the high lights of my two week post-Sri Lanka Asian tour.

My Dad organized probably, if not definitely, the best vacation I have ever been on in my life. I got to see parts of the world that had never even crossed my mind before and now I'm sure I will remember them fondly for my whole life. I don't think I can fit all of the experiences into a blog so I'll make a list of the top three most amazing experiences and the top three funniest moments.

The Top 3 most amazing experiences:

3. The White Temple, Chiang Rai, Thailand

 I think that if I hadn't taken Buddhism class and then spent three and a half months in a Buddhist country this temple would have been nothing more than a pretty sight, and by the way it was pretty. One of Thailand's top artists Chaloemchai Khositphiphat was commissioned to design this temple. The temple was an immaculate nearly blinding white highlighted with mirrored glass to make it shine even more. The temple was the artist's vision of a Buddhist heaven. To get in you pass over the tormented souls reaching up and cross a bridge to finally enter. When inside the temple, there was a giant painting covering the wall that faced the Buddha statue. You weren't allowed to take a picture and I doubt my words can do this painting justice but I can swear that in all of the Buddhist countries there is no other depiction like that one. At the very top there was the Buddha seated on a lotus flower on top of a skull. It was very punk rock. The closer to eye level you got the more unique the painting got. There was a complex web with life like paintings of Keanu Reeves in the Matrix, a Star Wars battle ship, Super Man, some demons licking oil off a pump and other things that you would never pair up with the Buddha. Our guide looked at us and asked if we knew what the artist was trying to convey, and only because of all my time engulfed in Buddhism was I able to point to the pious Buddhist depicted in a small bubble in the corner floating up and say it's the worldly distractions that keep you locked in samsara and away from enlightenment. The guide said I was right but he didn't seem that impressed he knew I had been in Sri Lanka for a semester and if I hadn't known the answer to that question I probably should have been embarrassed. The temple is a must see for anyone who has the slightest interest in Buddhism or impressive art for that matter. Though pictures are probably easy to come across online, so the trip to Thailand may not be necessary.  

2. The Floating Village, Siem Reap, Cambodia

When my Dad and I climbed into a boat somewhere in Cambodia I was a little bit dazed from all the travel and I had no idea what was going on. Low and behold I'm about to see one of the most interesting ways a human could live. A few minutes from the dock and we are in this muddy looking water and I turn to my Dad, who hates crocodiles, and whisper, "You know this looks like a place that is covered in crocodiles." He got mad and later we would find out I was right.

Shortly after noticing that this was a likely crocodile hotspot we hit what looked like a fleet of boats from the distance, and as we get closer I saw that they were actually houses built out of old boats or on top of floating bamboo rafts. The houses were modest usually only containing one room with a few hammocks to sleep on. I figured that only a few fishermen could spend their whole lives in a river. I was very wrong; the population of the floating village is about 6,000 people. Not only do they live on the river but the village has its own floating school out in the middle of the river. When we passed it I got to see two grade school boys engaged in a fist fight, in school, in the river. I can hardly stand on a boat and they were so steady after being raised in the water they could even fight; it was wild. Then we got to a floating market which was my favorite part. The market was relatively huge and it was held up by bamboo and then built with wooden planks, it was loaded with tourists and I couldn't understand how it was holding up. As soon as we walk in there was a fence, I looked down, and the wood was cut down into a hole that was filled with crocodiles. The owners of the shop leave food there to attract crocodiles and then they sell them to be eaten or maybe used to make wallets I don't know. Inside they sold enormous live fish, stuff I had never seen before not even in an aquarium and of course they had caught it all in the river. After being in the market I made a mental note not to go in the water and then on our way out I marveled again at all the villagers who would carelessly dive out of their house and into the water. I never thought I would go to Cambodia but if ever in Asia its worth making the trip there for the village, not to mention the amazing ancient temples in Angkor Wat.  1. Mahout training, Chaing Rai Thailand  I rode an elephant as a little kid and I rode one in Sri Lanka or at least I thought I had but then I had Mahout training and realized I hadn't even come close. We were at the Golden Triangle, yes where the CIA had worked to shut down the opium trade back in the day, at the four seasons tent. Naturally, I could not afford to stay there as a college kid but I got pretty lucky and I have to say after being there if I had to save my whole life to go back and do it again it would be well worth it.

The tents have something like 50 elephants all rescued and well cared for. I know I was shocked to know that the Four Seasons was active in animal conservation but I was happily surprised. What they do is they take you down and you get to meet six adult elephants, well that is after you've eaten your breakfast and maybe thrown some bananas to the baby elephants that come to the restaurant to eat with you. You get to pick an elephant you like, mine was a no brainer she was wild, loud and never stayed still; kind of like me. Her name was Dancing Girl and for me it was love at first sight. She tolerated me because I kept the bananas flowing. Dancing Girl was definitely the matriarch, if elephants have matriarchs.

First thing they make you do is get on the elephant in the stable or wherever it is where they live with the man who is actually their mahout, which is like a trainer. The elephant lies down and you hop on by grabbing a rope while all the mahouts kind of shove you on. That wasn't so hard but then I learned it's the last time you get on or off like that. Then you scooch up to the elephants neck, lock your knees in behind her ears and drive with your feet. After the morning training class we came back in the afternoon and we were now expected to get on and off the elephant by jumping on or sliding off the head, and no it doesn't hurt them I asked a million question because I was so worried about hurting the elephant. Oh and by the way at this point all the ropes are gone it’s just you and the elephant; very jungle style. Then the elephant and you have a bath, take a walk through the jungle and end up in the river. It was an amazing experience.    Now to the follies of my Asian adventures/bonding time with my Dad.

Funniest moments:

3. My Broken Bike

My Dad, a guide, and I were mountain biking in Chaing Mai, Thailand, on our way to white water rafting. Neither my Dad nor I had been on a bike in at least a decade, yet that didn't stop us from pretending we knew what we were doing. I was going way faster than my Dad which clearly offended him so he speed up and past me, which in turn offended me, so I tried to pass him to prove I was the better biker and in the middle of my sprint past my Dad I kicked the petal and the metal thing that holds it off
the bike.

The best part was that I had broken the bike in the middle of nowhere Thailand and the guide couldn't get cell service to call the driver to come for us. He blatantly pretended to fix the bike and told us to go ahead and that he would take my bike and catch up with us. My Dad used this as an opportunity to prove he was faster and took off, however, I knew how well I broke that bike and I knew it wasn't getting put back together that quickly. I stayed with the guide and in thirty seconds it fell off again. I told the guide to take the bike and find the driver and that I would walk the broken one till they came back for me. This seems like a great plan till I find myself in a pack of dogs. There are some viscous dogs in Asia, if my previous blogs didn't make that clear. I'm trying to walk by them without looking at them in hopes they'll go away when these men started screaming which caused me to jump and the petal to bang loudly on the road which was enough for the dogs to leave. The men who were construction workers came rushing over at the sight of my broken bike gesturing that they would help. I didn't speak a word of their language and they didn't speak a word of mine so my refusal was not understood and my bike was beaten with a knife in an attempt to reattach the petal until my guide returned cracking up at the situation I had found myself in. It was just one of those moments when things were so far out of my control I was laughing by myself in the background. 

2. My Dad Falls of the Elephant

The elephants took us to the Mekong River on the border of Myanmar, Laos and Thailand to take a quick dip. The Mahouts had hoped on the back of the elephants to urge them to get us wet. They were commanding the elephants to dunk which is funny because my elephant paid no attention to the command and just let me watch as my Dad's elephant dunked him. All of a sudden the elephant dunked a little too quickly and I watched my Dad soar off the elephant and into the water. I was in tears laughing until I noticed everyone else was panicking. Three of the Mahouts dove in the water after him. My Mahout looked conflicted as he had confided in me earlier that he didn't know how to swim. My Mahout jumped onto the back of my Dad's vacant elephant so as to help out as much as he could. My Dad was fine so I continued laughing and eventually Dancing Girl got bored so in the midst of the commotion she left the river and took me for a walk. The people swore that no one ever fell off before, somehow I think that isn't true.

1. Culture Shock from Sri Lanka to Hong Kong

I got to Hong Kong which I should mention is fashion city in what I think is my best if not least soiled outfit left from Sri Lanka. I can actually hear the jaws drop as I enter the hotel. I allegedly look homeless and everyone else is rocking Armani and what not. We try and get lunch where with one look at me the hostess said, "We have a dress code."

I was really hungry and apparently if I wanted to eat first I had to go shopping. This meant I had to go shopping at designer stores which I had never done in my life and also they were stocked with clothes that had a size 4 as an extra large. I figured clothes would eventually happen and they did but shoes were the real frontier. I was embarrassed to tell my shoe size at one store so my Dad asked while I was in the dressing room. I can hear the girls cracking up as they tell him no. Eventually, and with huge amounts of effort I put an outfit together and was admitted to the various fancy restaurants that plague Hong Kong.

Today was our last Sri Lankan event, final tea. It was mainly an opportunity for the host mothers to bond with their host daughters, the sons were a little left out. All of the girls were dressed in their mother's most beautiful sarees and jewelry. The boy's could have worn khaki's and collared shirt, however, Jared took this as an opportunity to wear the Sri Lankan national dress; a floor length bright white sarong and a matching button down shirt. I can’t attach the pictures now but when I get back to America I will be sure to attach a few.

We all came to the ISLE center with our host families. Naturally, my family blended with Maria’s family and we formed one large Kiribathkumbra family. Maria and I both shared the same sentiment while we walked in together which was we couldn't walk, nor breath that well. After wearing the traditional Kandyan saree I am in awe that the women of Sri Lanka perform their day to day task in a similar outfit. My host mother's helper never wears anything but a Kandyan saree while she cleans the bathrooms and does the laundry. Now granted we were wearing fancy sarees so they are a bit heavier then the standard one but all the same I can't understand how these women get anything done.

After my host mother had dressed me, which took at least twenty minutes. She left to dress herself and I collapsed onto the bed; owing to the fact that I couldn't move I laid still like I had been mummified. At the tea my older host brother was laughing with Maria's older host sister and I heard my name so I asked what was funny and he told me that he had seen me collapsed on my bed totally unable to move. My host mother couldn't understand why I had so much trouble moving but all the same I swear it is really hard. However, as soon as Jared walked in his all white dress the attention shifted.

When tea and pictures ended it was time for me to say goodbye to Rosemarie who runs the ISLE center and our director Nancy because I won't see them again. My flight is two hours earlier then everyone else's so I am getting picked up at my house earlier on Saturday and traveling everyone's luggage as my only companions. I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. All I have left to do in Sri Lanka is pack and of course have the sure to be depressing departure from my host family who really have grown into a second family.

Well, I have some catching up to do! Now that Thanksgiving has come and gone, Firenze has never seemed more festive in all of my time here! I cannot even describe how absolutely wonderful it is to be going through the hectic preparations for “Natale,” popping in and out of little specialty shops and walking through the grand open markets of Saint Ambrogio and Santa Croce. Although the Italians surely know how to celebrate their Christmas holiday, it sure is strange how they don’t quite understand the Thanksgiving holiday. Half of them seem to believe that it is just a big eating day once a year, yet they also can’t fathom why we wouldn’t have pasta as our first course and then our turkey afterwards. The other half thinks that we are either celebrating our independence after the war from the British or something about the Native Americans. Either scenario is comical, especially since most of the restaurants attempt to make some close resemblance to a turkey (tucchino) with stuffing (ripieno), and in their valiant efforts, they cook it the day before and the majority of Fiorentini — the people of Florence — were saying “Happy Thanksgiving” on Wednesday instead of Thursday. Despite all of these comical cultural differences, Thanksgiving was a huge success, and I felt completely fulfilled as having a half American, half Italian celebration.

Amanda, one of the other students in our Holy Cross group and one of my good friends from school, went to the English speaking mass at the Duomo two weeks ago and stumbled upon a religious group for American students studying abroad called the St. Thomas More Society. It’s run primarily by students and directed by Fr. Mario, an incredible young priest who is from America but also speaks five languages and is a serious advocate of having active youth in the Church, including while studying abroad! Amanda and I have been attending some of the events that are offered, and we signed up to help with the baking for the big Thanksgiving feast. Most of the weekly dinners are held at this cute little restaurant, “Gusto Leo,” a two-minute walk from the Duomo where the owners always reserve a full room just for our group to meet. For Thanksgiving, we had an entire room with two long tables for almost 30 people, including students from Fairfield University, California State University, and other places scattered throughout the U.S. There were also two Italians interested in having a little English-Italian conversation, Jada and Marco. Amanda and I met up with one of the student coordinators, Jana (pronounced “Yana”), in the afternoon, and together with her friend from the States, Kaitlyn, we concocted our own versions of apple pies, pumpkin pies, and chocolate chip cookies from the available American-type ingredients that Italian supermarkets offer. Quite the entertaining experience! And with a house smelling of all the “homey goodness” of the holiday season, who wouldn’t be in the festive spirit? As we took our many pies and cookies on the city bus with us, all heads turned to what we were holding with complete interest until one Italian finally asked about the pumpkin pie. When he heard that it was pumpkin, he had a look of complete shock and he exclaimed, “Ma come si fa???” In other words, but how can you do that?!

The dinner itself was nothing short of a dream Thanksgiving celebration for me. Surrounded by not only this wonderful group, and with Amanda, Jen, and Jenny’s company from Holy Cross, we feasted like no other Thanksgiving. And I’m being completely literal because we not only had a turkey and potatoes; but we also had pasta, cheese, and foccacia bread due to the Italian chefs’ insistence. As the Italians say, “Sempre cosi,”or,“This is always the case.” We finished the meal with our delicious desserts, and by the end, it was midnight before the chefs were wishing us a good night and a happy end to the holiday. I’ve always said that the Italians know how to enjoy themselves, and after that night, I definitely learned how true I was!

Now, only two weeks before I make my big homecoming to Pennsylvania, I can’t get enough of Florence. I would absolutely love to see all the celebrations here, in the piazzas, by the Duomo…it must be beautiful! As the lights are being strung throughout the streets, walking through the city always feels right out of a movie. I recently had a house change into the downtown area, and although I’m still adjusting, being closer to all the action of the city has been incredible. My new host family, Katia, and her adopted 12-year-old daughter, Ami, keep the apartment alive and hopping everyday. It’s always reminding me of life back in high school where my brother and sister and I were always out and about with my parents going from one event to the next. The only challenge is that I have to keep up with their fast-paced talking! This upcoming weekend is one of the biggest religious festivals in Italy, the feast of the Immaculate Conception on December 8; many Italian families get their Christmas trees at this time and everyone has school and work off! My cousins from Foligno invited me to spend this time with them and do some Christmas shopping for my family away from the hustle and bustle of the Florence streets. I’m so excited! I’ll make sure to have lots of details about the festival as soon as I get back.

A presto!   

Things in Sri Lanka have been tame compared to the trouble in the surrounding parts of Asia. A few of the students were supposed to leave for India on the 6th and I was supposed to be on my way to Bangkok. Obviously, neither of those things are happening now do to the violence in India and the riots at the Bangkok airport. The other students are at the travel agent right now trying to find a flight back to America, but I am not headed back to America.

I had the luxury that I was supposed to meet my father in Thailand so he is dealing with all the flights and things which is why I am not in town right now arguing with air line personnel. Now, at midnight on Saturday night I am flying from Sri Lanka to Hong Kong with a lay-over in Singapore. I am supposed to meet my father in Hong Kong — it is one of the only free ports in Asia, which means I can get in without a visa. We will spend a few days in Hong Kong which is a much unexpected addition to our trip then we will head to Cambodia and after a few days drive to northern Thailand. Pretty wild, right?

Now, that all the travel questions have been for the most part dealt with I have to get back to reading all the other student's independent studies. That is all we have left for academics in Sri Lanka just talking about each other’s independent studies.

I can't believe we have been here for over three months! I will try and write at least one more entry before I leave Sri Lanka, and then I don't know when I will have internet again. I'll keep track of what I'm up to though, and be sure to post when I get back to America if I can't post along the way.

Today Maria and I went with my host family to a 21st birthday party. I know the connotations any American would make with a 21st birthday party which is what makes it so funny. Every year for my host mother's nephew  birthday they hold what she refers to as 'little monk danne.' There is most likely an official name for this but I have no idea what it is.

We went to what looked like a boarding school but it was for monks between the ages of 8 and 16. When we arrived all of the guest were seated on mats in front of a Buddha shrine and to the right of the shrine sat this monk that couldn't have been over 14. He was belting his heart out and all the adults had their heads bowed in respect. Maria and I stood awkwardly in the back, because we can't really sit still like the Sri Lankan women, or at least I can't, and I can never get my hands in proper prayer position.

After the prayer the room filled with over 100 child monks. They were silent and respectful; which was flat out shocking as there weren't any grown up monks around to keep them in line. They all had their little alms bowls and cups in front of them and all of the guests gathered up the food and had to serve them. Maria and I were given the task of handing out small fried vegetable things, most likely because Sri Lankans are very generous with the rice and curry so they probably figured Maria and I might starve the monks if we didn't pile their bowls sufficiently.

Shortly after eating all the monks shuffled out and then all of the guest ate. This may have been the funniest part of the day owing to the fact that my host mother is still under the impression I hate rice. I don't hate rice but I really don't mind not eating it, so she packed a bun and a cupcake for me to eat. I was happy, but I got some pretty weird looks

Lately I have been unable to write because independent study has allotted me some free time to travel and get to enjoy a little bit of Sri Lanka with out the limitation of classes. Not having classes is very awesome because for most of us this will probably be the only time we are in Sri Lanka so its been really nice to have a little free time to enjoy it. Now of course free time is over because I have a 20 page paper to write on the poet I've been meeting with over independent study. She has published something like 40 books and I have at least half of them in my room, so as I said play time is definitely over.

I'll relive some of what I've been doing over the past couple of weeks because it was pretty fun. Everyone's independent study took them out of Kandy, but my poet lives about two miles from the ISLE center so I was left behind.

Everyone in Sri Lanka talks about how beautiful Nuwara Eliya is, it's mountain covered and touristy and when Sri Lanka was a British colony it was called little England. All though I don't personally support colonialism I decided to pay a visit to Nuwara Eliya anyways. It was gorgeous and kind of cold, which after being on a tropical island for three months is actually an added bonus. So for a few days I took hot showers and ate huge buffets filled with Western food. I had a blast even though I had never eaten at a restaurant alone before, but I quickly got over my fear and embraced the buffet food.

While I was packing up to leave Nuwara Eliya to head back to Kiribathkumbra Maria called.  She asked if I wanted to spend two nights in a hotel in Kandy with a few of the other ISLE students that were back from independent study. The day after I returned home Maria and I headed into the 'city' to meet the others. They all raved about how awesome it was to get a vacation after what sounded like some stressful independent studies. I bite my tongue and didn't rub in the fact that my poet who is something like 78 was anything but stressful. We all had a greet time in Kandy and as an added bonus I got to eat more western food.

Now we are down to almost the last two weeks in Sri Lanka. The fact that we've been here since August is surreal, in some ways it feels like we've been here forever and in other ways I can't believe how quickly time passed. I know that didn't make that much sense but it is the best way I think any of us can explain how we feel at this point.

It’s hard to believe that so much time has gone by since I’ve last written. Now that Florence is becoming more and more my own, the difference between September and now for me is uncanny. Every Sunday, when my parents and I have our official phone call to say our true hellos–not a rushed phone call during the week to save our pennies or an e-mail update during the day — I always feel like I should be telling them how much I miss America and how much I can’t wait to come home until Christmas. And although living in Italy has shown me an entirely different culture and made me appreciate so many of the things of America, I can’t ignore the fact that the reason why I came to Italy was to be immersed in a different culture. If I wanted to find America in Italy, I wouldn't be here. However, at the same time, it’s going to be wonderful to go home and see my family for the holidays. In my opinion, I definitely could have stayed in Italy and traveled for the holidays with my friends who are staying here, or with my family, for that matter.

After being in Italy since August, I feel like I can look back on the way that I’ve grown with the language since I’ve been here. This past weekend, I went back to Foligno in Umbria, where my family lives. I was so excited because not only was I going to see my cousin Marta and her parents, Caterina and Vasco, but Marta’s sister, Lisa, and her husband, Stefano, were also planning on journeying down from Rovereto in the North of Italy to spend the weekend with us. We hadn’t all been together since I went to visit the second weekend of September for Foligno’s annual festival that celebrates the different neighborhoods or “rioni.” However, plans changed at the last minute and Lisa and Stefano were not able to come anymore because Lisa had a sudden appointment on Saturday to student teach as part of her teaching courses. I still decided to go, and it probably was the best thing for me to keep up my spirits and my perseverance with Italian. Every now and then, I have to admit that the frustration and fear of not improving my Italian comes over me. But then, there’s always moments or things like this past weekend that keep pushing me along. As soon as I got to their house, I felt so wonderful to be with my family that I just relaxed when I spoke, and by the end of our first “cena” on Friday night, not only were the words flowing from my mouth, but I even was using the Italian gestures. I didn’t even realize it until Vasco commented on how Italian I looked. I can’t even begin to express how pumped I was…and still am, obviously! Later, Marta and I were talking about things to do in Florence because she studied architecture there for three years, and we got on the subject of movies. She suggested we go to a late movie in Italian, and even though I had my doubts, I thought, what the heck? The worst that could happen is that I would only be able to appreciate the picture. We went to see Changeling, the new movie about post-World War II with Angelina Jolie and her lost child. When I got into the movie, at first I could feel myself concentrating, but as the movie went on, I forgot that I was even listening to it in a different language. Walking out of that movie felt more of an accomplishment for me than all the Italian language class I have in a day. Now, trust me, it wasn’t always like this. I’ve had some pretty funny and odd moments in my learning of the language. To this day, I still confuse words and accidentally say another word when I mean something completely different…but for me, it’s all part of the experience. One of my first “moments” was the first time I spoke with Irene on the telephone. In front of all of my cousins, I was trying to explain to her that I loved eating everything that I had just eaten for lunch. But instead saying everything (“tutto”), I said, everyone (“tutti”). I don’t think she knew how to respond to hear that I loved eating people. Another one of my favorites is how I was explaining to my conversation teacher during September how people on the bus always laugh at me like I’m such a foreigner when I try to get off the bus. And my teacher asked me what I was saying to politely make my way to the door. I informed her that I was saying “promesso” (I promise) instead of “permesso” (Excuse me), thinking that obviously they were chuckling to themselves about my American-ness. No wonder people laughed at me. I might as well have had my hand up in the air in traditional girl scout style to complete my mistake! Knowing that I can go from these embarrassing moments to listening to a movie completely in Italian helps me to really see my improvement here. This week will probably be the most relaxing week I've had in a while here in Florence since for the most part, there is nothing too major going on except for my studies and the visit of a couple of the Strasburg girls in France, although there's nothing like being able to show the city off to people!

Tonight, we have one of our cultural events with Laura, our young, hip cultural director for a dinner and a night “spettacolo” or show in the downtown area. As always, I'm excited because whenever we go to these events, they are always phenomenal. We just found out a couple of weeks ago that our university director here, Elisa Camporeale, arranged for our visit to one of the most exclusive museum exhibits in all of Florence, the Vasari Corridor. Every year, there's an official announcement to the Florence community about when this corridor will actually open. During the time of the Medici, it was a passageway for the family that ran from the famous Palazzo Pitti all the way to the Palazzo Vecchio in Piazza Signoria, one of my favorite piazzas in all of Florence. Needless to say, I'm completely ecstatic! I'll be in touch soon…a presto Holy Cross!