Courses and Accordions

So.
After my first full week of classes,
this is what i have to say:

why is there so much work?

I mean, come on guys.
I understand this is still school.
We are college students after all,
working towards our degrees that
half of us won't use in the
real world anyway.
But we're also American students
studying abroad in Italy.
Who knows if we'll ever
make it back to Europe.
We want to travel,
not spend our weekends
in the library writing paper after paper.

...

Oh well.
No use complaining
to an online blog.

Overall the classes look interesting.
I might actually even
read the required reading.
Something, that in the past,
I have let slip somewhat.

I think the most interesting
thing about my classes
are the way that they're
taught.

The first half we have lecture.
We have a short break
and then we go out into
Florence, and see
the things the teachers
have been talking about.
So i'll learn about the Medici
family homes,
then go visit them.
I'll learn about the Santa Croce
Quarter of Florence,
then go visit the quarter I
live in,
on the way learning anything
of historical significance
from a very eccentric professor.

Speaking of my quarter of Florence,
Santa Croce,
named for the Church that can
be found just down the street
 from my apartment;
it is very lively.

My neighbors are the Duomo,
and the Palazzo Vecchio.
And how could we forget
the famed Uffizi Gallery,
with its halls of renaissance
artwork and its street
of vendors, modern day artists,
statue-impersonators, and
my favorite, musicians.

And here is where
the accordions come in.

Almost every night,
we have this elderly man walk
down Borgo dei Greci,
teetering with the weight of
his instrument strapped
to his chest.
he settles down midway through the street,
almost directly under our window,
and begins his song.

For the past two weeks,
he has yet to change
this song.
Which is alright with me.
Its beautiful
and its at those moments that
it really hits home that
i'm in Italy.
I promise you
sometimes it still feels like a dream.

And our elderly Accordion man
isn't our only musician serenading us.
We have had guitarists,
clarinetists, an entire band once,
and even this guy playing
some weird steel drum like
instrument that makes the most
interesting sound.

The nights are rarely quite
near the Santa Croce.
Either its music or
the drunken songs of
Italians, Australians,
Americans, or any other nationality
working their way back to
their apartments after
a night of drinking and friendship.

And these ballads don't stop early.
and they occur every day.
even Sunday nights there
is yelling and laughing coming
from the cobble stoned streets
of Borgo dei Greci.

Apparently its very loud
as the noise echoes and intensifies
off the stone and cement walls
till it reaches our floor.
I am lucky.
I sleep like the dead.
My roommates are troubled
by the noise though,
so I hope it calms down
once peak tourist season is over.

although I rather doubt it.
Students will still be here,
studying, partying, traveling.
And I personally hope the
music doesn't stop.
I'm particularly fond of our
personal concerts every evening.

and even now, at 2:10 pm,
a trumpet player is practicing his skills
for us to enjoy.

And while I pray the noise goes away with the tourists,
I hope the musicians of Florence never
leave or cease to use the old,
cracking buildings of the
Santa Croce quarter
for their amplifiers.

Their songs weaving their
way through the Tuscan night
is a small portion of La Bella Vita.
The beautiful life.
the life that i am trying
so desperately to find
while on my 4 months
stay in Italia.