theladyrose (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theladyrose) wrote2008-05-29 05:07 pm
theladyrose) wrote2008-05-29 05:07 pm
Entry tags:
ma vita veronese: settimana (week) 1
Thanks so much for all of the birthday wishes - I feel so lucky to have such a thoughtful f-list :) I'm writing bunches and bunches of letters and am slowly getting around to mailing them out, but it'll be a while as I have over two dozen people to whom I'm writing. If you want a postcard, though, leave a comment here (all comments are screened for privacy). ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
horosha, yes, I'll accept the raincheck :)
Last Saturday I started off the third decade of my life in Venice, living out a dream that many older than I fantasize of experiencing. My roommate India - the most perfect traveling companion I've ever had who isn'teyepiece_simile - and I trekked from one end of the city to the other, through endless calles (alleyways) and across countless bridges big and small. We visited numerous cathedrals with Maria and Marco featured in the title and the highlights of the Piazza San Marco, although sadly. Boiling our visit down to these set points, though, misses out on what you actually experience as a visitor to the city.
As I wrote in something that I'm currently working on: Venice allowed him to find refuge in eternal beauty and the allure of intrigues past, to hide away in the shadowy calles and the ebb and flow of glass green canals. The city restored his faith that even when besieged by change and decay, human achievement could stand against time and still rejuvenate the spirit. It wasn’t the ubiquitous presence of churches, as awe-inspiring as they were, but the grace of cultures melding, the serene congruity of centuries in architectural form simply existing that instilled such wonder. Il Palazzo Ducale exemplifies the tranquil riot of contrasts that is this city, the imposing paneled, gilded and frescoed splendor of the legislative and judiciary quarters juxtaposed with the cool dark jails for criminals of all stripes just behind the walls.
And this rarefied world is slowly sinking into the lagoon that had shielded its initial development and growing pains as a city, lending just the right touch of romantic melancholy amidst the tourist kitsch.
I feel like I'm learning more about what it means to be American than anything else here. I can't count the number of times I've almost been run over by Vespas, for one thing, or how people smirk when I forget that you pay after you eat at cafés and restaurants. Unlike my white classmates, I have absolutely no chance of "blending in with the natives," but my peers tend to be more brashly American than I am. I at least make an effort to communicate with the shopkeepers and station agents in my admittedly limited Italian; it's how you get better service, at least. I've been surprised how most of them are two language classes ahead of me but still order in English at the cafés, where the owners accommodate them anyway because it's good for tourism. That's not to say that I never use English words, though; I had to when figuring out how to reserve a wheelchair-accessible seat for dad on the train from Milan to Lausanne for next week. But that's another story that's not worth getting into; I just can't believe it took me three hours only to have to go back to the station tomorrow to cancel the tickets because they marked up all the prices 200%. I seriously couldn't make up these figures even if I wanted to. Understatement of the month: Italy's not a friendly country for the physically impaired if you don't know what you're doing. I seriously fear for how the system here and elsewhere will handle increasing numbers of an aging population - the infrastructure's nowhere near prepared to handle the needs of all those in need of accessible services. And once you get into the discussion of accessible services, you have to expand that definition of accessibility to address class, acculturation, language, sexual orientation and physical/cognitive impairment and well, I don't feel like lecturing about politics as I'm really rather ignorant.
In relation to all those demographic factors, I don't think I've ever been this acutely aware of my Asian American status. Especially coming from California and traveling to places where Asians are a visible minority (primarily Canada and New York City), I find myself much more self-consciously salient of my race. Most of the non-native Italians around here are from Eastern Europe, Albania (does that count as Eastern Europe?) and Northern Africa, with a few from Mauritius and Pakistan. Those of us of East Asian descent tend to notice each other pretty quickly on the streets, although Venice is more cosmopolitan. I'm most frequently mistaken as Japanese, and just yesterday some teenage guys - I think German? - actually hollered at me in Japanese and then Mandarin. I cussed back at them in what I think was the rudest Hungarian phraseblofeldscat taught me, although I can't quite remember what it means anymore. I've never really felt like an exotic racial curiosity before, which might have more to do with how I've internalized living in a sphere of relative privilege.
Don't get me wrong - on the whole I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. I love the city, and the language immersion experience, when I have a chance to take advantage of it, is quite valuable. I am amazed by the Veronese residents' apparent apathy to the beauty and rich history of the city; I'm not accustomed to the fact that there are layers upon layers of ruins beneath the streets containing centuries of tombs and crypts, how Renaissance era churches face real estate agents and pizzerias. After the general urban safety concerns and transportation limitations of LA and the suburban bubble of home, I feel ridiculously empowered by the ability to wander around at night by myself here and travel around all over Italy and across the border to other countries. I'm in love with the local grocery store, although I haven't really had a chance to go out to eat much because as a student I really do need to watch my budget carefully. The bus is my new best friend, although I'll always be nostalgic for the Boston subway system and the red line in particular.
Certainly I'm immersed in a world unlike the one I'm used to living in, but more of that seems due to the other 8 students in my study abroad program. Let's just say there's been amazing amount of interpersonal drama in the 9 days I've been here, but I'm very grateful to be having the two roommates that I have right now. Well, that's changing because on June 4 we're moving into a two bedroom apartment with one of the girls across the hall because their living situation, to be diplomatic, isn't working out. The people I find myself around the most, other than my roommates, tend to be the types I tend to avoid socializing with - actually, I don't really care that you party with Shia La Boeuf on the weekends. Yes, actually, I'm one of those people that you make fun of who actually studies and is involved with campus life. It's a little frightening when one person (the new roommate, actually) tells you to your face that she doesn't actually like learning about other cultures than her own and doesn't see why she has to take those dumb non-Western humanities general ed classes. It's harder to call people out on their prejudices when you have to travel and live with them for another 7 weeks.
At moments like these, I find it easier to pretend that I'm an anthropologist sent to observe these Beverly Hills scions abroad and think of the continual backstabbing as an exercise in building frustration tolerance. The so-called would-be glamorati up front isn't so pretty, but at least their antics are interesting to watch. Heck, I know they think I'm strange as the relative non-drinker of the group and how I plan some things apart from them. And I'm OK with being more distant; so far I think I'm striking an OK balance where at least people don't hate me. I like having a little more time for myself to finally get around to writing more and working on a few personal projects (more grad school research, what fun!).
The good news is that my friend Casey, who's doing physics research in Pisa, is visiting me this weekend, so I'm looking forward to showing him around the city. Next weekend I'm meeting my Swiss relatives for the first time, which should be interesting. Sometimeeyepiece_simile and zedhaus will be dropping by, and I'm hoping to meet up with princessivye one of these days as well as make my way over to Vienna. I'm hoping that as I get more involved with classes (art history may kill my GPA, seriously) and as we start going on excursions for art history as a program things will get better.
On a completely unrelated note,lilbabiangel888 tagged me for the following meme:
List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now, shaping your spring. Post these instructions in your LJ along with your 7 songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they're listening.
Technically, these aren't all songs because as an unabashed soundtrack geek, I still find the whole concept of music with vocals and words rather nifty. I'm more of a spirit rather than the letter of the law kind of person, anyway. You can download these if you click on them.
Songs to listen to when leaving Venice:
This is Gallifrey: Our Childhood, Our Home: Doctor Who Series 3 (Murray Gold)
Ratatouille Main Theme (Michael Giacchino)
Theme from the Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Paul Cantelon)
Broken Hearted Melody: Sarah Vaughan (taken from Infamous)
Same Mistake: James Blunt (taken from P.S. I Love You)
Suzanne: Noel Harrison (courtesy of the ever-generouswiccagirl24)
Kissing Through Glass: A Very Long Engagement (Angelo Badalamenti)
Meme 2, snagged fromswashbuckler332 and lehah:
Post a reply and I will:
A) tell you why I friended you,
B) associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, etc.,
C) tell you something I like about you,
D) tell you a memory I have of you,
E) ask something I've always wanted to know about you,
F) tell you my favorite user pic of yours,
G) in return, you must post this in your LJ. (More like highly recommended, because I don't like coercing people.)
horosha, yes, I'll accept the raincheck :)Last Saturday I started off the third decade of my life in Venice, living out a dream that many older than I fantasize of experiencing. My roommate India - the most perfect traveling companion I've ever had who isn't
eyepiece_simile - and I trekked from one end of the city to the other, through endless calles (alleyways) and across countless bridges big and small. We visited numerous cathedrals with Maria and Marco featured in the title and the highlights of the Piazza San Marco, although sadly. Boiling our visit down to these set points, though, misses out on what you actually experience as a visitor to the city.As I wrote in something that I'm currently working on: Venice allowed him to find refuge in eternal beauty and the allure of intrigues past, to hide away in the shadowy calles and the ebb and flow of glass green canals. The city restored his faith that even when besieged by change and decay, human achievement could stand against time and still rejuvenate the spirit. It wasn’t the ubiquitous presence of churches, as awe-inspiring as they were, but the grace of cultures melding, the serene congruity of centuries in architectural form simply existing that instilled such wonder. Il Palazzo Ducale exemplifies the tranquil riot of contrasts that is this city, the imposing paneled, gilded and frescoed splendor of the legislative and judiciary quarters juxtaposed with the cool dark jails for criminals of all stripes just behind the walls.
And this rarefied world is slowly sinking into the lagoon that had shielded its initial development and growing pains as a city, lending just the right touch of romantic melancholy amidst the tourist kitsch.
I feel like I'm learning more about what it means to be American than anything else here. I can't count the number of times I've almost been run over by Vespas, for one thing, or how people smirk when I forget that you pay after you eat at cafés and restaurants. Unlike my white classmates, I have absolutely no chance of "blending in with the natives," but my peers tend to be more brashly American than I am. I at least make an effort to communicate with the shopkeepers and station agents in my admittedly limited Italian; it's how you get better service, at least. I've been surprised how most of them are two language classes ahead of me but still order in English at the cafés, where the owners accommodate them anyway because it's good for tourism. That's not to say that I never use English words, though; I had to when figuring out how to reserve a wheelchair-accessible seat for dad on the train from Milan to Lausanne for next week. But that's another story that's not worth getting into; I just can't believe it took me three hours only to have to go back to the station tomorrow to cancel the tickets because they marked up all the prices 200%. I seriously couldn't make up these figures even if I wanted to. Understatement of the month: Italy's not a friendly country for the physically impaired if you don't know what you're doing. I seriously fear for how the system here and elsewhere will handle increasing numbers of an aging population - the infrastructure's nowhere near prepared to handle the needs of all those in need of accessible services. And once you get into the discussion of accessible services, you have to expand that definition of accessibility to address class, acculturation, language, sexual orientation and physical/cognitive impairment and well, I don't feel like lecturing about politics as I'm really rather ignorant.
In relation to all those demographic factors, I don't think I've ever been this acutely aware of my Asian American status. Especially coming from California and traveling to places where Asians are a visible minority (primarily Canada and New York City), I find myself much more self-consciously salient of my race. Most of the non-native Italians around here are from Eastern Europe, Albania (does that count as Eastern Europe?) and Northern Africa, with a few from Mauritius and Pakistan. Those of us of East Asian descent tend to notice each other pretty quickly on the streets, although Venice is more cosmopolitan. I'm most frequently mistaken as Japanese, and just yesterday some teenage guys - I think German? - actually hollered at me in Japanese and then Mandarin. I cussed back at them in what I think was the rudest Hungarian phrase
blofeldscat taught me, although I can't quite remember what it means anymore. I've never really felt like an exotic racial curiosity before, which might have more to do with how I've internalized living in a sphere of relative privilege. Don't get me wrong - on the whole I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. I love the city, and the language immersion experience, when I have a chance to take advantage of it, is quite valuable. I am amazed by the Veronese residents' apparent apathy to the beauty and rich history of the city; I'm not accustomed to the fact that there are layers upon layers of ruins beneath the streets containing centuries of tombs and crypts, how Renaissance era churches face real estate agents and pizzerias. After the general urban safety concerns and transportation limitations of LA and the suburban bubble of home, I feel ridiculously empowered by the ability to wander around at night by myself here and travel around all over Italy and across the border to other countries. I'm in love with the local grocery store, although I haven't really had a chance to go out to eat much because as a student I really do need to watch my budget carefully. The bus is my new best friend, although I'll always be nostalgic for the Boston subway system and the red line in particular.
Certainly I'm immersed in a world unlike the one I'm used to living in, but more of that seems due to the other 8 students in my study abroad program. Let's just say there's been amazing amount of interpersonal drama in the 9 days I've been here, but I'm very grateful to be having the two roommates that I have right now. Well, that's changing because on June 4 we're moving into a two bedroom apartment with one of the girls across the hall because their living situation, to be diplomatic, isn't working out. The people I find myself around the most, other than my roommates, tend to be the types I tend to avoid socializing with - actually, I don't really care that you party with Shia La Boeuf on the weekends. Yes, actually, I'm one of those people that you make fun of who actually studies and is involved with campus life. It's a little frightening when one person (the new roommate, actually) tells you to your face that she doesn't actually like learning about other cultures than her own and doesn't see why she has to take those dumb non-Western humanities general ed classes. It's harder to call people out on their prejudices when you have to travel and live with them for another 7 weeks.
At moments like these, I find it easier to pretend that I'm an anthropologist sent to observe these Beverly Hills scions abroad and think of the continual backstabbing as an exercise in building frustration tolerance. The so-called would-be glamorati up front isn't so pretty, but at least their antics are interesting to watch. Heck, I know they think I'm strange as the relative non-drinker of the group and how I plan some things apart from them. And I'm OK with being more distant; so far I think I'm striking an OK balance where at least people don't hate me. I like having a little more time for myself to finally get around to writing more and working on a few personal projects (more grad school research, what fun!).
The good news is that my friend Casey, who's doing physics research in Pisa, is visiting me this weekend, so I'm looking forward to showing him around the city. Next weekend I'm meeting my Swiss relatives for the first time, which should be interesting. Sometime
eyepiece_simile and zedhaus will be dropping by, and I'm hoping to meet up with princessivye one of these days as well as make my way over to Vienna. I'm hoping that as I get more involved with classes (art history may kill my GPA, seriously) and as we start going on excursions for art history as a program things will get better.On a completely unrelated note,
lilbabiangel888 tagged me for the following meme:List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now, shaping your spring. Post these instructions in your LJ along with your 7 songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they're listening.
Technically, these aren't all songs because as an unabashed soundtrack geek, I still find the whole concept of music with vocals and words rather nifty. I'm more of a spirit rather than the letter of the law kind of person, anyway. You can download these if you click on them.
Songs to listen to when leaving Venice:
This is Gallifrey: Our Childhood, Our Home: Doctor Who Series 3 (Murray Gold)
Ratatouille Main Theme (Michael Giacchino)
Theme from the Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Paul Cantelon)
Broken Hearted Melody: Sarah Vaughan (taken from Infamous)
Same Mistake: James Blunt (taken from P.S. I Love You)
Suzanne: Noel Harrison (courtesy of the ever-generous
wiccagirl24)Kissing Through Glass: A Very Long Engagement (Angelo Badalamenti)
Meme 2, snagged from
swashbuckler332 and lehah:Post a reply and I will:
A) tell you why I friended you,
B) associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, etc.,
C) tell you something I like about you,
D) tell you a memory I have of you,
E) ask something I've always wanted to know about you,
F) tell you my favorite user pic of yours,
G) in return, you must post this in your LJ. (More like highly recommended, because I don't like coercing people.)