Italian Overload

When you think of first arriving in Italy, what comes to your mind?
Let me guess: Leaning Tower of Pisa? the Colosseum? Venice's famed canal ways and gondolas?
Maybe even wine, pasta, pizza, canoli, and gelato?
Well, some of these things were going through my mind.
But I'll tell you what wasn't.

Queen singing "Under Pressure"
but that is how I was greeted into the land of the Tuscan Sun.
With Freddy Mercury serenading our voyage into the city.

The traveling in general was tolerable, as any flight on an American airline is.
Luck was on my side though and I had no delays or troubles
getting through security in the US and in Germany.
I sat next to the most interesting person
and i dubbed her Hat Lady.

She wore a German inspired outfit, with matching black hat sporting feathers and flowers,
as well as a ukulele.
I have no idea what a ukulele has anything to do with Germany
but, she said she was learning how to play it
and hoped to be quite good at it by the time she returned.
Anyway, she kept things lively.
As did knowing an acquaintance, a fellow Ldm-er, on the plan.
And you'll never where I met this person.
Charlotte Airport.
And you'll never guess who she is.
My roommate.

She just came and sat next to me.
And while she was making a call to her credit card company, I heard her name.
And there you have it folks. Eavesdropping does have its positive points.

Now, once we arrived in Italia, survived a crazy taxi ride through ancient cobble stoned streets,
 and got dumped in the middle of a street with our luggage, thus holding up traffic
while we fought with the heavy things around parked motorbikes
and things too small to even be thought of as cars --
we promptly got invited to a bar with specials just for Americans
by two young Italian men and a young woman.

Let's just say its not hard to play "spot the foreigner' in Italy.
In fact, multitudes of Italian civilians and illegal immigrants make a career out of it.
May I introduce, the pickpocket and street vendor.

The pickpocket is easy to spot, if your looking that is. Disregard things like age and race,
because the perfect pickpocket is someone you wouldn't even imagine being one.
 Like a little boy nearly running into you with a ball as his sister comes up from the side.
 Too bad for him that I had a lecture from a Politzia that morning and saw him coming,
thus jumping out of the way.
I would make a joke now, but I'm too superstitious.
and i have 4 more months here to be paranoid.
and one of my paranoias is about seemingly overly friendly Italian men.
Like Mr. Leather.

So this nickname has nothing to do about what he wears
and everything to do about where he works.
There is a leather shop just across the way from my little humble Italian villa.
And Mr. Leather works there.
Oh, he told me his name.
I have no idea what he said.
So I have dubbed him Mr. Leather.
original, I know.
anyway, so Mr. Leather is very nice.
It seems like he has seem quite a few LdM students come through the apartment.
When we arrived, once again dumped in the street by a taxi,
he helped me and Taylor (my roommate) get our stuff out of the street
and into the foyer of the apartment.
He seems very nice.
he said hello when we saw him in the city.
he loves sitting on our stoop smoking a cigarette.
and always greets us, at least for the past two days,
when we return to our place.
So maybe he is just a nice Italian man
being kind to three foreign girls (Amanda is my other apartment mate)
who look clueless.
then again, Mr. Politzia earlier today told way too many horror stories.
So, now I'm paranoid.
or more so than i was.



My first impression of Florence on the second day is... overwhelming.
Italians are everywhere speaking Italian, and smoking. Lots, o LOTS, of smoking.
There are Frenchmen and Germans and Some Slavic speaking people all over the place.
but once again, it is nice to be able to spot an American from a mile away.
at least you know you aren't the only one looking like a Carolina Gamecock at Death Valley.

So overall, I'm glad I have more than a week or two in Italy.
There is no way you could actually experience the culture in such a short amount of time.
And I'm really hoping they let me into the cooking class......