why not...indulge?

Life here in Italy runs at a different pace. People are constantly late, they close down their business at midday to take an extra-long lunch, and they have no qualms about finishing a phone call before serving a customer. Italians love a good glass of wine with their meal, eat pastry for breakfast, pasta at least once a day (according to my cooking teacher!), and routinely stop for gelato at random times of day. To summarize, these people live by what I'm going to call the "Perche no?" philosophy.

Translated, "perche no" means "'why not?" It is actually the name of a little gelateria near Palazzo Vecchio that we have recently fallen in love with, as well as the inspiration behind today's post.

People in America are constantly on the go, driving somewhere, always multi-tasking, never taking a moment to just stop, enjoy, and indulge. Shockingly, despite their indulgent eating habits, I have seen very, very few overweight Italians! Shocker! I feel like back home, I was either constantly indulging (eating sweets like there is no tomorrow) or cold-turkey depriving myself of the things (foods) that I love most. This unhealthy kind of attitude lead me personally to some unhealthy eating habits, and I know that I'm not alone. There is probably a reason that America ranks so high in obesity, cancer, and heart disease!

[Hope you're not tired of gelato pictures yet, because I forsee many cones in the upcoming weeks.]

One of the reasons I came to study abroad was to learn about myself. To figure out how well I would function in a foreign country, thousands of miles from everyone I know, on a budget, where I don't speak the language! Despite a lot of people's jealousy over this amazing opportunity, this experience has been a challenge. Fortunately, with all challenges, we are able to reap the benefits of the things that we learn.

What I've learned here is about balance. Balancing my work with pleasures, like traveling. Balancing my bank account, money I need with the money I want to spend. And easier things to balance...such as how many times a week to eat lunch at Sergio's versus Mario's! :D Anyway, the point is that life here has given me a different perspective not only on eating things like gelato (a couple of times a week won't hurt, with all the walking we do!) but also with life in general.

There is no need to rush, people. (Except of course, if you are rushing to a gelateria! Just kidding.) Slow down. Enjoy your life. And every now and then?

Indulge!

As the Italians would say...perche no?

exotic.

It's been a fairly uninteresting day thus far, so I'll share a short piece we worked on in writing class today. We had to go out and find something about Florence that we consider "exotic" or different. Of course, I focused on food.

[I have to polish this up more for class next week, so any suggestions are welcome! But also keep in mind that it is a work in progress...]

In the middle of the largest outdoor market in Florence, and therefore the largest collection of tourists in Florence, there is a single stall that attracts none of them. An obviously Italian mob crowds at the open window of the tiny stand, which is ironically adorned with both the Florentine coat of arms and the highly recognizable red logo of Coca Cola.

My objective today is to search out the exotic parts of Florence, and even without traditionally exotic displays as colorfully plumed birds, bejeweled belly dancers or tasty tropical fruit, this minute stand has captured my attention, and mine alone.

The woman running the show is small, much smaller than the young man working with her, who is likely her son. She smiles the entire time I am watching, even as the grabby hands of the crowd snatch the white paper-covered plastic bags she is patiently handing to customer after customer, who devour the contents, leaning against the stainless steel of the bar before disappearing into the mass of tourists.

These Italians obviously know something that the tourists do not. No English signs are visible; there is no way for an American to discern precisely what is in these mystery sandwiches that the smiling woman is selling, yet somehow, they seem to understand that the advertised lampredotto is something to be avoided. They likely make no connection between the appetizing smell of cooking meat that wafts through the open window of the cart and the mounds of intimidating fleecy white meat piled indelicately in the displays of butchers less than 20 yards away in il Mercato Centrale. If they did, even the most gung-ho of tourists, sporting backpacks, aluminum water bottles, and Rick Steves’ guide to Florence, would be daunted by the answer to the question that no one will ask the woman running the stand: What exactly is lampredotto?
For the answer to this question would be likely to ruin any appetite: what you’d be putting in your stomach is cow stomach.

a little inspiration.

Prepare yourselves. This may get sappy.

Italy is fully of beautiful sights, though few of them compare to the building in the photo above. That is the Basilica di Santa Maria di Fiore (or something like that) and is better known around here as il Duomo. I'm trying not to allow myself to become desensitized to sights like that, to allow them to become a part of my every day routine, because I want to feel everything here as much as I can, while I am here. I am also trying not to ever wish anything to go by faster, which is kind of hard. I often wish for the weekdays to go by faster so that I can reach the weekends, which are filled with wonders like the chocolate festival, Pisa, roomie time, and this upcoming weekend, Carnivale in Venice. I also sometimes, secretly, wish for these four months to go by faster simply because I miss my family and friends, which is something people who know me may be shocked by...as I don't often admit to these kinds of affectionate feelings. Baaawwww.

But being here has given me back something that I thought I'd lost way back in high school. I gave up English as a major when I reached college because I let my horrible experience in AP Literature color my views of what I truly love. It turns out that two years at UF was enough to remind me of my love of literature, but even since returning to English, the only writing I've truly done is the occasional scribble in a journal and the faux-academic papers I dash off in the middle of the night for my classes. I have often felt like a fraud, listing "writing" as a hobby when asked what I do for fun, since I haven't truly written something for myself in so long. I chose to take a Travel Writing course here because, honestly, it seemed like the easiest and funnest option that would count toward my major. I didn't truly consider what it would be like to write again for the first time in years.

It turns out that I love it. I am writing creatively again, and enjoying it. Our teacher, Kate Bolton, gave us our first out-of-class writing assignment today, and I am looking forward to doing it. To perfecting what I write. To sharing with a teacher what I have created. To hearing praise about something that I have done. I used to base a lot of my self-worth and self-esteem on how well I write, but that was something that I somehow let slip away from me.

Italy is beautiful; the food, art, and architecture are overwhelming, and though it is hard to be away from home, being here, for only two weeks, has already given me so much. This is the end of my sappy post. Don't expect to see another any time soon.

:)