Florence!

The holidays start soon, and my family is going to Florence! I am very excited about this, as, though not a major city economically, Florence is the birthplace of the current Italian language, and the renaissance, it is a major city culturally speaking. I'm not sure about computor access while I'm there, so it might be January before I can post more about it.
I've done a bit more baking while here, making some pear and apple cakes. However, it seems like I left my ability to tell when cakes are done in Canada, so I've been having some troubles. I could list a million reasons, such as using Celsius, different flour, different fats, etc, but in reality it's because I just can't figure it out anymore. Tonight I'm making a very Canadian dish for my host family... fajitas! I went to three different grocery stores and still couldn't find all of the ingredients, but I'm not super worried. I was a bit sad when I bought a packaged taco seasoning mix because I couldn't find cumin, but it had the right ingredients, so I got it.

I haven't been super busy lately, just normal school and protesting and the like. I did go to a concert at Teatro Politeama, which was super neat. Teatro Politeama was originally built as a multi purpose theatre to house all sorts of shows, from equestrian to acrobatics to plays, and was originally open-aired. We sat on the floor of the theatre, but there was two levels of boxes, and a level of more seating above us. I thought the acoustics were excellent there, from what I could tell, and I really enjoyed the performance.

Also, there's snow on the mountains around Palermo! It makes for a nice change of scenery, and reminds me of Canada, but I'm not a super huge fan of the cold when I don't get to go skiing, or at least have my mitts or boots!

Here's some photos:

Protesters. You can tell these guys are from an art school as their signs are a lot nicer than the normal spray paint and old bedsheet. I like the scissors demonstrating the cutting of funds to education, and woman painted on one is labelled "Saint of Ignorance".

More signs

The two levels of box seating.

The stage.

Happy Santa Lucia Day!

Today was the day of Santa Lucia, and so we don't eat grain. My friend told me something about ships, and grain, and something else, but when I looked up Santa Lucia on wikipedia, it told me something completely different, so I'm not exactly sure. I was feeling pretty down, as I was sure that I was going to die if I didn't get my daily pasta fix, until my family said we were having arancina, the typical food of this day. Arancina are balls of rice, stuffed with cheese, meat, or spinach, or a combination, and then fried. Well, if that isn't a good way to celebrate not eating wheat, I don't know what is. I ate two. Now considering running a good four hours.

Since I forgot to take photos (too busy eating), I pulled some from the internet:

Update everyone!! I just asked my host mom for clarification and apparently the not-eating-grain thing is a Palermo thing. Each region might have a different way of celebrating. I guess there was a great famine and then a ship came with grain, but the people had no yeast so they could only boil it. So people of Palermo celebrate by not eating grain and eating deep fried rice. (Hopefully I didn't butcher that story too much)

Learning Italian, part 2

So, the other day when I wrote the first part on this subject, I had been feeling really great. I felt like I could actually talk to people, understand what they were saying. Finally, I thought, this is what it's like to know what's going on! However, the following days, I didn't get enough sleep, and subsequently, could not understand anything. All the words sound mashed up and out of order. It's like someone took an essay or article, ripped it into many pieces, then put it back together out of order with gum and frosting, and told you to read it.
Also, when I went to write this last week, I had been formulating ideas for it for a while, and forgot at least half of what I was going to write, so hopefully I can complete it today.
I make up a lot of words. "Tion" endings become "zione", add an e to the end of most words, and a few extra syllables. I also like to just add "are" to the end of most verbs. The other thing I am guilty of is mashing French and Italian words together (though not as much lately, as even the tiny amount of French I knew has fallen out of my brain entirely), such as calling apples pela, instead of mela (pomme+mela=pela), and snow, nege, instead of neve (neige+neve=nege).
I hardly ever make anything agree. I hear it's what the cool kids do. Normally I just forget, being so focussed on saying the write word, or conjugating to the right tense, that making adjectives agree isn't a high priority. Also, a lot of the time I just don't know the gender. Sometimes this doesn't matter, but also, a lot of people don't know what I'm saying when I get mixed up. Or words can be very similar, but different genders, such as the words for dog and meat, so I get looks of concern and confusion when I say "Il carne è buono", when it should be "La carne..."
Many people will ask me if I understand everything, and normally when I reply that I don't, they ask if I understand even a little. When I say that I do, they usually say something like "good for you", or "keep trying". However, a few times, when I replied that I didn't understand everything, the person I was talking to turned to everyone else and said "She understands nothing!! Nothing!!". When this happens, I feel angry and misrepresented, I would love to shout or scream at that person. But more strongly, I feel discouraged, and disappointed. I'm not sure if the other person really understands how it feels to be publicly displayed as a slow learner, as a bit of an idiot.

In other news, I got a math test back! I got one of the better marks of the class, too! It was a 6/7, out of ten. Certainly nothing fantastic, if I had recieved this grade at home I would be incredibly disappointed. Oh well, something to improve on.

Learning Italian and School

So, my Italian has actually been getting better lately, strangely. For a while there I thought I'd never understand it. I understand voices I am more familiar with the best, such as those of my host family, but am starting to actually understand what the teachers are saying, if I pay attention. Listening and understanding is no longer passive, like it was in Canada. I need to listen very carefully, paying attention to verb endings, and adjectives, but I am understanding a lot more. Nearly everyone has been incredibly patient with me, for which I am very thankful, however, when I ask you to repeat something, I mean just that, for you to repeat it. Not change the words, not translate into broken English, not to turn to your friend and say "how do I say...". I appreciate what you are doing to help me, however, most of the time I simply didn't hear you.
Some other difficulties:
There are approximately 1,000,000 tenses I need to learn. And each tense has six forms that I frequently forget.
The majority of common verbs are irregular.
I don't know very many words, so sometimes it's difficult for me to add to conversations.
I hate feeling like a burden to conversations.
I don't understand the jokes.


I'm realizing just how little expectations my teachers have for me. I actually have to ask if I can write some other test, and frequently what I write isn't graded at all. Probably according to administration I don't exist as a student. Today I took a test in Physics 5, as it's at the same time as Math 5. The professor read out the questions, but I didn't catch them, so I borrowed his little handwritten note, that I understood only slightly more than when he read it. Since students sit in tables of two, there are two tests. I think the test had six or eight questions per side. I'm not exactlty sure because I just picked a few that I could write about/understood the handwriting enough to read the question. I wouldn't be surprised if I got a two on that one. If he marks it.

If you are interested in what it's like learning another language without getting a visa, check out my friend Petra's blog (katima-petra.blogspot.com). She just moved to Quebec after being in Ontario for three months, with Katimavik, a youth volunteer organization in Canada. Everyone here seems to expect me to know French since I'm Canadian, but I'm pathetically unilingual, so I am very jealous of Petra's opportunity to learn French. I am also very jealous of her being in Katimavik. 'Cause it seems like the coolest thing ever.

Breakfast and Morning Snack

So, no school again today, so that means more posts!

As you've probably noticed, I mention food in many of my posts, so I think it's time for a post solely about food. There will be more to follow, as I'm only covering breakfast in this one and there is a lot of food here to talk about! Warning: I love food. I love thinking about food, looking at food, watching food being prepared, smelling food, going to grocery stores, preparing food myself, reading recipes, and eating food.

I've never considered myself a big breakfast person. Weekend breakfasts for me usually consist of many cups of coffee until 12:30, then making lunch. Seemingly, I should fit in here, as it seems that breakfast is not a large meal, but instead I have become a breakfast person without changing how much I eat.

Weekday breakfasts for me here are usually cereal, such as corn flakes, or chocolate rice krispies. Unless you are my mom reading this. In that case I eat high-fiber, high-protien, low-sugar cereal with skim milk, never biscotti or corn flakes, and I never ever ever take snack cakes to school. Only low-fat, unsweetened yogurt or fruit. Because I am a healthy eater, and my mom says fiber is healthy and too much sugar isn't.

Breakfasts are much sweeter, and smaller than in Canada. I'm pretty sure you would be looked upon as crazy if you tried to order eggs, sausage and bacon for breakfast. At home we eat biscotti - drier, medium sweetness cookies - with coffee or warm milk for breakfast. Other breakfasts I've seen include cakes, pastries, toast with honey, Nutella, or jam, sweeter breads (such as brioche), yogurt, and fruit. As I've mentioned, I don't usually eat large breakfasts, but sometimes when my family eats together, I look at the small plate of cookies and think, "So what are you guys eating?". It's also normal to eat leftover desserts from the night before (actually, come to think of it when I made my pumpkin pie, my host sister had a very very small piece after dinner, but more the following morning).

Based on what I've seen in grocery stores, cookies are where it's at for breakfasts. There are many choices, from high fiber, to extra chocolate, from light pastry, to dense cookies. And the funny thing is, they don't suck. I hate most packaged food in Canada. Store bought muffins and pastries have a gummy texture, cookies leave you with a terrible aftertaste. But here, pastries are light and flaky, and cookies don't leave you wondering if you got some sort of chemical poisoning. North American packaged food producers, take note!

At school we have a "recreational" break at 11. This is when the "little garden" fills up with smokers for twenty minutes, the bar at school gets overwhelmed, and I can get out of my stupid, too-small, uncomfortable desk and have a snack. Sometimes I try to fit in with the others and take a snack cake, or a package of crackers, or a piece of fruit for when I'm feeling healthy (my classmates also love my orange peeler). I've also taken cereal and milk, which earned me a few stares and quizzical looks, and once leftover risotto, which confused everyone a lot. The bar at school sells different breads and pastries (many with chocolate or Nutella), sandwhiches (filled with french fries), and hot dogs (which smell so amazing until I remember that hot dogs are really only good for the first few bites, and then I don't want to eat one for a year).

Alright here are some photos! Unfortunately (or possibly luckily) we didn't have any snack cakes. Lucky because I know they aren't healthy and I would devour three right now if we did.

So here we have some chocolate cookies (there were other, more chocolately ones, but I'm not sure where they disappeared to...), some lemony cookies, and a pastry cookie. Just one left, don't know where the others got to.

Cookies, chocolate milk powder, corn flakes, honey made by my host mom's nephew, high(ish) fiber cookies, premade toast, package of crackers that many people take to school as a snack, some peach juice (another popular school snack), cookies from the bakery that have an excellent flavour but are very hard and dry and definitely need tea to dunk in, and yogurt. The yogurt flavour is banana, and it is one of my favourites next to pineapple, which is strange because I hated those flavours in Canada. I seriously ate this right after taking the photo, and am staring at the empty container wishing it to refil itself.

Thanksgiving!

Saturday night all the exchange families in town got together for Thanksgiving dinner, all made by one of the host mothers. Yes I know that Thanksgiving is in October. This confuses many people here. Mostly the American exchange students. Kidding kidding. Anyhow Katelyn (exchange student) and I headed over to Kaley's (another exchange student) to help with pie, and setting up. Good thing most of that stuff was already done, as I am not terribly good at table setting, and, as Kaley's host mom found out, making things look pretty on plates. We made pumpkin and apple pies, and cut out some maple leaves out of pastry to put on top of the apple pie. Since I'm Canadian my maple leaf was obviously the most accurate. The first course was all Italian food - various salads, cheeses, meats, mushrooms, and, of course, breads. Second was the Thanksgiving food. We had turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, potatoes with pies and carrots, stuffing, sweet potatoes, and salad. Third course was fruit. And fourth was pumpkin pie (which we accidentally overbaked a touch), apple pie, and a cheesecake with berries. Midway through the second course we remembered to say grace, which turned into the exchange students just saying what they are thankful for. Which was humiliating. As soon as the eight words I plan run out I sit there and say "e... ummm, e..." and look like an idiot while my host dad films.

It was delicious. It tasted absolutely nothing like what my family makes at home. But it was still Thanksgiving dinner. It couldn't not be. There were the classic family dinner problems - not enough room on the table, or on plates for food, dishes going in both directions while people say, "what? I thought we were going clockwise!", being way too full afterward - but with an Italian twist. We changed between English and Italian depending on who we were talking to, having to explain how food is the same or different in Canada/America. I had a ton of fun. I felt like I was with my family. Plus I liked being consulted regarding pumpkin pie.

Cheeses, mushrooms, fichi d'india, pumpkin, salad stuff

Turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, gravy

Kaley

Pies

Mosaics

A few weeks ago, my family took me to the cathedral of Monreale, for a concert. The cathedral has a feature called "Sacred Music of Monreale", and while I was there they had an orchestra, a choir, and some solo singers. The music was really nice, and it reminded me of my band geek days, but what I really want to talk about is the cathedral. It was built by the Normans in the 12th century, and is absolutely gorgeous. Unfortunately it was too late for a full tour, so I saw the inside of the main cathedral and one part of the outside, so that's all I can comment on. The best way to describe this, I feel, would be as a conversation between one of the designers and Igor, the main contractor, in Restaurant Makeover:

Designer: Here's what I'm thinking: a really grand church. Like, really really grand.

Igor: Sounds good, it'll be a challenge, but still doable.

Designer: And I want it to be nice on the inside.

Igor: Sure, that's a great idea. We could do some columns, perhaps a bit of nice stone.

Designer: Yes, yes, all that, but also, how 'bout some scenes from the bible?

Igor: Well, it'll put us on a tight schedule, but we can probably get some extra painters in, and do some scenes that way.

Designer: Paint is so.... average. I said grand!! Grand, people! Not some boring paint. I'm thinking... mosaics

Igor: I guess we could do a few small ones...

Designer: No! These will cover the entirety of the inside walls. And I want gold. And some stone. And columns.

Igor: No. It can't be done. You will be way over budget. There isn't enough time. Or enough people. It can't be done. Think of something else.

Designer: Please! Please please please!

Igor: Fine! But the outside gets nothing! It will be left plain!!

OK, maybe that wasn't as funny as it sounded in my head, but here's some pics, just so you get some sense of just how many tiny pieces of glass went into this.

The outside, where I saw it. As you can see, not a lot of decoration here, though apparently in another area there are some incredibly detailed columns.

Then, BAM, you get this.

And this.

Here's the choir and orchestra.

Photos do not do it justice.

On Monday, the three exchange students in Palermo went to the palace, for a tour. I got the feeling that we got special treatment, because we knew someone there, so it was just six of in our tour, while I saw other tours with twenty or more. It was all in Italian, but my host sister translated it for me, as I simply don't know enough words to get much out of it. I would understand things like "This was built by the ... in the ... century", but not understand why, or the meaning, so it was good to have some help. The history of Sicily is somewhat confusing, and that is reflected in the art and architecture. It's called "Palazzo dei Normanni", and was originally built by Normans, but was altered, and added to by the Spanish. It also has Byzantine and Arab influences. For these reasons, buildings can have a mismatched appearance, and the architectural style can differ between the wings of the building. Some of the rooms we saw had once been covered in mosaics, but had been torn down by the next conquerors, as they didn't have any religious significance. The palace also has a church within it, one our guide said was far more beautiful than Monreale. I could kind of see this. It had a very similar style to Monreale, but was smaller, finer and more detailed. The mosaic work was so fine that it didn't look like pieces of something, it looked like smooth painting. The detail made me dizzy.

The outside. You can see the two different styles side by side.

Sorry it's so dark. This is a hunting scene, made out of (wait for it...) tiny pieces of glass.

Not sure why I'm posting this picture. I think this might have been one of the areas that had all of the mosaic torn off because it wasn't religious enough.

This is painted to look like it's not paint. The shadows are painted on.

Mosaic. As in tiny pieces of glass painstakingly attached to the walls.

The ceiling of the church.

One of the walls. As you can see there are quite a few very very small pieces of glass that have been attached to the wall here.

The stonework up close. Makes me dizzy.

These photos really do not show the art well, sorry.

The Schools are Occupied

Since last week, none of the schools have been in session, as the students have been occupying the school. I missed the day that it all started, Saturday the 20th, as I was in the country. We had one hour of classes on Monday and Tuesday last week, followed by student meetings. On Wednesday the school was officially occupied. I didn't want to take part because I wasn't sure how legal it was, and I didn't want to get involved if things got ugly. This was sort of a difficult decision for me. The students were protesting against something I would also protest, school funding cuts, and I could picture myself occupying the school in Canada if I thought it got my point across. But I feel like this isn't my fight, and I don't know enough about the issues to occupy the school. So, instead I've been studying a bit more, and have actually been fairly busy.

I spent some time with the two other exchange students of Palermo, shopping and just hanging out, as well as seeing the Palace, and having Thanksgiving dinner (more about those in further posts). I also watched La Papessa, went to a Rotary meeting, and slept in. I feel pretty good after this mini vacation.

It's currently 20°C outside, and has been super windy lately, so I'm having a hard time convincing myself it's December! So I guess I'll have to pump up the Charlie Brown Christmas music, and do some Christmas baking to feel a little more wintery.

Shopping here is... a challenge... I'm tall, and so a lot of stores don't carry my size. Finding shoes is difficult/my size doesn't exist here. Haven't even tried pants as they come in handy sizes of "small", "medium" and "large".

Sorry, this is sort of a pointless post. The next will be better, I promise.

Assembly at school.

The next three photos are from three separate days. These guys are persistant.

Circling the Statua Della Liberta, blocking traffic.

Rotary Meetings

I've attended two Rotary meetings, my orientation, and a Rotary event with the Piena Degli Albanesi club, so I thought I would reflect on my experiences so far. I'm always terrified I will have to give some sort of speech, and that I will promptly forget all my Italian and just say where I'm from. Luckily no one really seems to care that I don't say all that much, so I will just have to impress them later on when I'm a bit more comfortable with my Italian. The problem I have frequently with the Rotary meetings here is that I struggle to do the right things at the right time, so usually when they call us up to the front, I'm so focussed on making sure there aren't any sesame seeds in my teeth, or that my pants haven't disappeared between sitting down and being called to the front, that I forget to bring something important, like my flag from my Rotary club at home. Of the three times I'm exchanged flags, I've forgotten it twice and had to run back to my seat.

Aside for the usual language problems/timing issues/social awkwardness, there are two main reasons I get really nervous when going to Rotary meetings:

1. They are really formal*. Last night's was apparently relatively informal. Which meant suits with ties, or nice sweaters for the men, and dresses, or jackets with skirts or pants for women. I don't really do formal all that well. In fact I don't think I even own clothes formal enough for these events. Plus my hair is even more of a shaggy mess right now, so it does not do formal. At all.

2. I have to wear my Rotary blazer. I don't really mind my Rotary blazer. It's just that the colour is just a bit too bright, and it doesn't fit all that nicely, it was just the best I could find. But, an ill-fitting, too bright blazer does not say elegant, and well, see problem one. Also, the only jacket I have that fits over my Rotary blazer is my rain coat (again see problem one), so to w

ear my nicer jacket, I have to take off my blazer and carry it. Which looks awkward.

Last night's Rotary meeting was also a beer tasting, which was pretty interesting. Each of the four courses came with a certain beer, and the announcer went into great detail about each one. First course was an egg dish with ham, second was risotto, third was meat and lentils, and fourth was a beer gelatin, with deep fried fruit. I wasn't a huge fan of the beer gelatin and could not figure out why you'd take wonderful, delicious, fresh fruit, and fry it.

Here is a photo from Orientation. Note the lovely blazer. And how I'm at least a foot taller than the other exchange students.

My flags. Going clockwise from top: Piena Degli Albanesi, Siclian flag (note the awesome three legs coming off of a head with red snakes for hair, and green wings. wicked), Palermo East, and Palermo. My Rossland one is in the middle. The Rossland one is a lot smaller, and less elaborate than the others, but I still really like it. I feel like it reflects Rossland nicely.

*Yes, I'm aware that I sound like a bit of a small town hick. That's because I pretty much am a small town hick. The last big city I lived in was Tucson when I was four.

Making Bread in the Country

My host parents had mentioned that the country house had a wood fired oven (I'm not sure exactly what they are called), and that they wanted me to try it out with my bread. Right-o. I have never used one before, but I'm not too worried. On the way there my host mom mentions that I will be making it with six packages of yeast, and three kg of flour - effectively multiplying my recipe by six. It's now approximately one and a half times larger than a big batch I'd make in Canada. I'm starting to get a little nervous. The store worker tells us that we want rimacinata flour. OK. No biggie. Sure, I've never used this kind of flour before, or this oven, or made this much at once, but I'm sure it will work...

My host parents are so excited and I'm afraid I will let them down. I gather my ingredients and heat my water and milk mixture, and my host dad gets out the huge trough I will be working in. I'm so nervous now I could cry. I take a guess at how much sugar and salt I want, and mix my dry ingredients. I pour the water mixture over the flour, but unfortunately the wood isn't entirely water tight and some of the liquid leaks onto the floor. Luckily the rest of the process goes well and sooon I have something vaguely resembling bread dough. I allow it to rise, then form it into seven loaves and one focaccia and allow it to rise again. Meanwhile, my host dad lights the fire in the oven to allow it to get hot enough. Finally it is time, and my host dad and Pino (the guy who runs the farm when my host dad isn't there), remove the embers, and place the bread inside, along with the chickpea flour batter my host mom made. We close the oven, and leave. It is frustrating to have to wait without being able to see it.

We take it out and I can't help but feel proud of myself. I know that I would have cried had they failed. I had invested a whole day into this project, as well as my host parent's and Pino's time, and it meant a lot to succeed.

On a side note, we made bread again last weekend and burnt it. It was sad. I think the oven was hotter the second time.

Ingredients.

Tasting to check salt level, also feeling to check texture.

After second rise.

Placing the bread in the oven.

After 25 mins, or so.

Finished product!

Baking in Italy

I love to bake. It's a problem. I get hungry, or stressed out, and I make a double batch of chocolate chip cookies (ok, so I really only make one batch of cookies, and eat a batch worth of cookie dough...). Something about it calms me down. Plus you get cookies out of it. Win win.

I can't really go a year without baking, so I mentioned to my host family that I love to bake, and they were very excited, especially when I said that I like to make bread. I started making bread once in a while, and my first batch was... considerably less than ideal (my host family still loved it though, because they are fantastic and encouraging). Since then I have made a few adjustments - mostly due to the different flour. I think that Canadian flour has a higher protein content, so I had to add more milk than normal.

During Thanksgiving time, I really wanted pumpkin pie, so I decided to give that a go. It took a while to even find the ingredients (or adequate substitutes). The recipe I use at home uses canned pumpkin (see - not a food elitist!), brown sugar, and evaporated milk - all of which I wouldn't find. Of course I just cooked and pureed fresh pumpkin, which was easy enough, and I found something similar to brown sugar (a type of demerara), but I'm fairly certain that evaporated milk doesn't exist here. No biggie - evaporated milk is just that - milk that has been concentrated through evaporation. So I measured out twice as much milk as I needed, and started heating it on the stove. This was harder than it sounds - too hot and the milk will curdle. Another adjustment was using all butter in my pastry, instead of half lard. I probably should have found an all butter pastry recipe, as my pastry was not terribly flaky.

I'm intimidated to try my North American recipes here for more than just not being able to find ingredients, measuring cups don't exist here. We use a scale, measuing spoons, and we have one jug with dL on the side. In the end my pie was pretty good, certainly not my best creation, but I still liked it.

Festival of Old Tastes

My host family owns a farm in the country where they have various animals (sheep, cows, horses, and chickens), grow vegetables, and produce olive oil and cheese. (On a side note, my host family would say "we're going to campagna this weekend", or "Fabrizio will be in campagna for a few days", and I always thought "campagna" was the name of the nearby town or the name of the region - like how someone might say "the Kootenays" or "the Okanagan". Nope, "campagna" means "country" or "countryside", the way someone would say "the country house" or "the farm is in the country".) The house in the country is very rustic, but I really like it. It's super quiet, and it's good to get away from tv and internet for a while.

On Saturday night we went into town to the "Festival of Old Tastes". It reminded me of Rossland during the sidewalk sale or Golden City Days. Everyone knows each other, and the street is filled with people eating and drinking, and looking at what was for sale. There are the usual street vendors selling scarves, belts and jewellery, but there were also people selling artisan biscotti, liquor, olives, oil, and sausages. The festival is about celebrating the old ways of doing things - rasing and growing organically, producing olive oil and cheese with the traditional techniques, cooking and baking with less refined ingredients. I got to taste some really delicious cookies, several kinds of olives, and though not an ancient food, crepes with Nutella. I also met many people, including the mayor (possibly). I enjoyed learning more about the region and its livelyhood - combining my loves of food and history.

Olives

Sausages

Vending Machine: 3, Michelle: 2

I mention to my friend that I'm going to get a coffee, and he decides to accompany me (probably for amusement purposes). I throw in my money, reset the sugar to zero, hit "espresso", then grab the cup as soon as I see it. "What are you doing?", my friend asks, "You're supposed to wait until the coffee has been made." He's looking at me like I don't know what I'm doing. Ha. I'll show him. The machine, however, decides against giving me sugar today (I mentioned that this thing is tempermental, right?). With embarrassment I mumble something about, "well, last time..." My friend gives me another strange look (like I said, they keep me around for entertainment purposes, I'm sure). (Just kidding, my classmates are awesome)

We tied this one.

I'm Really Good at Math...

In Italy, a class stays pretty much together their entire highschool career. This has many benefits: it allows a class to get really close, you know who to ask for help with homework, it's easy to study together because everyone is studying the same material at the same time - there's a sense of unity. This is good for me also, I can break into one class fairly easily, and it's easier to remember 30 names than 100. However there are many frustrations as well. In Canada, classes are in a certain block, and those blocks are on a rotation. This allows students in grades 10, 11, and 12 to take any class that falls in that block, or to take a "spare" or study block. In this system students can take, for example, grade 10 english, grade 11 math, and grade 12 history, if those blocks fit. Here, however, since I don't want to take Latin or Ancient Greek, I have to struggle to find classes that fit. For example, I could take the second hour of science three, or the first of two hours of Italian two, but I wouldn't be attending all the hours of that class per week. However, I decided that attending three of five hours would be good enough, and joined another class.

I had two main reasons for finding a fifth year math class. 1. I wanted a challenge other than the language. I wanted something that I needed to learn and practice that wasn't Italian. And I'm good at math (or at least I was in Canada), so I wanted a way to prove to people that I wasn't as dumb as I looked. And 2. I wanted to meet new people. I love my fourth year class. People have been beyond nice to me. But at the same time, I wanted people more my age, and just to meet some different people. When we get together on weekends, its usually just the class meeting up, again, so I thought it would be a good idea to get to know some new people.

I show up at the classroom and wait for the teacher. The teacher doesn't really seem to care all that much, and I tell him I'm good at math, so he tells me to take a seat. During a short break I tell all the other students that I'm super good at math, and that fourth year math is too easy for me. The lesson continues, and I dutifully take notes the whole time, while thinking, "oh yes, I know exactly what this graph/diagram means!" and, "that makes perfect sense!! Of course i^2 = -1! Why didn't I see that earlier".

I then head back to my fourth year class. I have a math test during this block, but, no biggie. It's just logarithms. I can do this. Wrong. I take a look at the questions, and they don't seem too hard, until I get to one of them. I can't remember how to do this question. (I can hear Mr Nutini saying to me now, "Study the types of questions, don't do the same type over and over." Sorry Mr Nutini, I have failed you.) It was a type of question that the teacher only briefly explained, then sorta left us on our own to learn, and I still haven't gotten around to buying a textbook yet, so I had only done a few examples. I hand in my test at the end of the block not totally satisfied with my answers. I know I got at least two wrong, more likely four. Four wrong? That can't be that bad.... On a nine question test....

Vending Machine: 2, Michelle: 1

Success! Aha take that!

After repeatedly trying to set the sugar level to zero I give up and just hit "espresso". But this time, I have a plan. Oh yes, I will get unsweetened coffee. The cup appears and I grab it immediately, watching with near glee as the sugar pours though the holes at the bottom of where you take the coffee. The machine spits a stir stick at me and I replace the cup. I feel accomplishment as I walk back to class. I know that I can repeat this to get unsweetened coffee everytime!

Paperwork

Step One: To study in Italy, I required a visa. This involved quite a bit of paperwork (all of which made more difficult because my parents are divorced), a trip to Vancouver, then hoping my passport would be here on time (luckily it was).

Step Two: Once I got here, I had to fill out a Permesso di Soggiorno, within eight days of arriving. Just getting the forms was a challenge - we couldn't find them. Next step was to purchase a tax stamp from a tabacchi shop (not from the post office), and go to Poste Italiane to hand in the forms. This might have been fairly simple, except I misunderstood my family's instructions and all the tabacchi shops were closed for lunch by the time I got there. After lunch my host dad and I went out again. Keep in mind that this was after I had been here for two weeks and my Italian was terrible (although for the most part it still is) and that I was with my host dad who doesn't speak English. Off we go to a Poste Italiane. Poste Italiane is more than just a post office. True, you can send packages and some people recieve mail there, but it's also where you go to pay bills, hand in paperwork, and other things as well. I think it serves as an official arm of the government for some things as well, such as some documentation and identification purposes. Anyway, we wait at a smaller Poste Italiane closer to the house for roughly half an hour before our number is called. We are then informed that that location does not service our request.

Off we go to another location. At this one we wait for roughly an hour. By this time I'm getting pretty tired and frustrated, not helped by the awful beeping sound made by the machine that informs everyone whose turn it is. I think this machine and the life-sucking machine in the Princess Bride have the same roots - I felt like my life had been considerably shortened when I left. But seriously, the noise it makes is awful. Finally my number is called. The man behind the desk informs us that we need more photocopies of my and my host dad's passports. Of course, I don't fully understand this, but my host dad does, and grabs my passport from the death grip it had previously enjoyed in my hands, says "wait here" and runs out of the building. He returns and we are able to finish the paperwork.

Step 3: Going to the government office. I was unable to make my appointment at the government office, so my host dad and I go hoping to make another appointment. They are able to look at my paperwork right away and tell us to return the next morning with the final pieces. Whenever I hand in paperwork, or go to an official office, I am terrified that they will find something wrong and send me home. And, knowing my luck, it will probably be something stupid, like checking off "male" instead of "female", or saying that I was born in the 17th month, and that will be the end.

One of the requirements for the paperwork was more passport photos, so on the way home we stop at a roadside photo booth. My host dad pulls over, and sends me on my way with no instructions whatsoever. I guess he must have thought that I'd used one of these before. Just a few problems with the photo booth. Firstly, it would not take my money. I am capable of being a pretty patient person, but the machine had a timer going, so I was stressing out. (What would have happened when the timer ran out, I'm not sure. Maybe the the stool would become a launch seat and throw me from the booth?) Secondly, I can't seem to get centred correctly. I know that passport photos have very specific regulations, so I'm more than a bit nervous that my paperwork will be trown out and I'll get sent home. After three takes I give up and hope for the best. A tip: you never know how these things will decide how to crop your photo.

Step Four: Returning to the government office. The next morning we show up again. This time there are quite a few people there as well. The strange thing is that they stood outside the building, while I went inside, no idea why. There is some discussion about why I need the Permesso di Soggiorno, and then they take my fingerprints on an electric scanner. Then we head across the courtyard to another office where only I am allowed in (not my host dad). One of the workers in there is wearing medical gloves and the other is wearing one of those white suits that you wear over top of your regular clothes. This makes me nervous. My Italian is spotty at best, and I'm afraid that this is not going to go well. They take my fingerprints (again), and my palm prints, then I'm allowed to leave.

Step Five: receiving my Permesso di Soggiorno - hopefully in January?

Trapani

The exchange students from this district were invited to go to the Interact National Assembly in Trapani, just an hour away from Palermo. There were clubs from all over the district of Sicily, as well as clubs from other parts of Italy. I think they were meeting to discuss a group project.

Sunday started with a short presentation from sev

eral people, then it was time for lunch. Normally I would think to myself, "maybe I shouldn't eat this much food, I will need two seats on the return flight to Canada", but then I remember I'm only here once, and that I should go for it, so I certainly did not hold back here. Lunch was pasta, couscous and veggies, and the dessert was incredible. I had some of everything, except for one thing, which I missed. I had profiteroles covered in chocolate whipped cream, coffee mousse, and a cream pie with fruit. So delicious.

After lunch were introductions from all the clubs involved, and us exchange students said a few words. That night was the gala dinner so we changed into our dresses and sat at fancy tables. Before dinner were more speeches, and the flag presentation common to many Rotary events. Once again, I ate everything. We had quiche, ravioli with mushrooms, a meat course of beef, stuffed pork, and peas, then dessert, then fruit with lemon sorbet. Honestly this food was good. And it sounds like a lot, but remember that it took over two hours to eat.

After dinner was the discoteca!! We danced for quite a time, then went back to the hotel in time to hang out for a bit and get a few hours sleep.

On Monday we went on a tour of the historical centre of the city. I really enjoyed this although I stopped even trying to understand the tourguide after what seemed like the hundredth church. Trapani is right on the coast, and was super windy, which I loved, and the sea made me think of sailing. After the tour, some of us went for lunch at a pizza place. I had Genovese pizza, which had pesto, sausage and breadcrumbs and was delicious.

At this point it was time to say goodbye to our lovely hosts and head back to Palermo, after this fun but exhausting weekend.

I'm not sure if it was just because of my poor language skills, but I'm not sure what exactly this event accomplished. As a member of Interact for several years, I do know a little bit about budgetting for projects, but I could never imagine putting this in the budget. I know that a little bit of money can go a long way and can't help but cringe at the costs for this event. But, most likely, I just didn't know what happened because I didn't understand Italian. Best of luck on your projects, Interact!

Who needs school anyway?

Last week I had three half days, then two full days, then four days off. And the reason I have time to write today is because we got out four hours early.

The first half day wasn't really a half day. We had one hour of classes, then two hours of elections, then one hour of class. During the last hour the PE teacher wasn't there, so we went home early.

The second half day started late (though I didn't know so I was there on time) and ended on time, but we only had one hour of class. At nine thirty we went to the theatre to take part in an anti mafia video internet conference. This might have been interesting had I understood what was being said, but a combination of poor sound quality and my near-existant Italian skills made that impossible. After this we had an hour of practicing for our Dante presentation.

Then, Dante festival!!! Last Wednesday my class attended, along with other classes and schools, a series of plays, music, videos, powerpoint presentations, and skits put on by students focussed on Dante. Unfortunately I forgot my camera, so there won't be any photos from this event. We watched several presentation from other schools. I didn't understand a lot of them. Some I understood because of my limited knowledge of the Divine Comedy, but not a lot. Plus the people around me were getting noisier and rowdier as the day went on (as is common for most teenage boys), and that did not help me concentrate. Then it was our turn, and I stood in my place in line as part of the chorus (we didn't sing, but I'm not sure what to call a speaking part equivalent to a chorus). I had three lines, and walked a course with a group of other classmates. I was pretty proud of myself for remembering my lines, and not tripping. Shortly after our presentation we left. The next day my Italian teacher gave me a poster from Dante week, and circled the event we went to. He then wrote "Don't forget us!" and signed his name. I've been here six weeks and I'm already getting "don't forget us" notes. I love this guy, I think he's hilarious and enthusiastic.

Saturday we had off so they could either do a big cleaning, or de-insect the school (ummm), I don't remember which. Monday and Tuesday were Festa dei Morti (Celebration of the Dead), so we didn't have school then either. Halloween isn't celebrated here, there are few costumes for sale, no candy, no candy on sale the week after, but some people do celebrate Festa dei Morti. During Festi dei Morti, people visit the cemetaries their families are buried in to remember their lives. There are other activities associated with this event, but since my family didn't participate, I don't know a lot about them. My host dad went to another area of Sicily to observe this festival, but my host mom's family is in northern Italy.

Piana Degli Albanesi

The Rotary club of Piana Degli Albanesi invited the exchange students from Palermo for a day to see their city. I guess that people from Albany moved there when the Ottoman empire took over Albany in the fifteenth century, the government of Palermo/Sicily were friendly to them. Albanian heritage is still evident in the language and culture. All the signs in the city are bilingual, which was pretty neat. Note: all photos from today were taken by Katelyn. Not me. Which is why I actually have pictures to post.

After meeting up with some members of the club, we went to a church. The church was about to have a service so we didn't stay for long. I loved the bright murals on the walls, the colours were rich and vivid. There were some things written in Greek on the walls, and apparently some services are in Greek.

First church.

Next we went to another church (just down the street). On the way there we saw someone selling snails and another person selling fruit. The snails were trying to make an escape out of their buckets.

Selling melons.

The second chuch was different - less bright, but with more gold. This church was empty so we got to go right to the front and look at the paintings right up close.

Second church.

Off we went again, this time to a store that sold religious items, but mostly paintings. Nearly all of these paintings involved gold... and Jesus... The person explained a lot of things about the paintings, but I didn't understand much of it.

We then went to a museum, but the museum was either closed or about to close so we didn't get to stay for very long. We did get to see some traditional clothing and cheese making equipment, as well as articles on the history of the area.

The mosaic in the museum.

Then we went to another church and saw more paintings and mosaics. I know this sounds sort of repetetive and boring, but it actually wasn't. Each church had a different feel, a different tone, and no painting or mosaic was quite the same.

We then went for a three and a half hour lunch. I was confused arriving at the restaurant, there were a lot of people around and I thought they were all Rotarians, and that I'd have to give some humiliating speech about myself. Turns out this was just the type of restaurant it was. Groups reserve by table, and are served all the same things (as far as I could tell). We had cold appitizers (including cow's lips, I think, though at first I was just told that they were "meat", so I tried it. I've noticed that when I don't recognise a dish and am told "meat" or "the inside of an animal" it is frequently spleen, or lips, or stomach), hot appitizers (including stomach - didn't try, wimped out), risotto, pasta, meat (lamb or sheep? but of a cut I don't recognise.... or at least bones I didn't recognise....), fruit, then finally dessert (which was really good - I had seconds. It was a dough filled with sweet creamy filling, some of them including a touch of chocolate). And,

of course, this meal included bread, coffee and wine. I felt like a champ after finishing this. I didn't think I was going to make it after learning how many courses there were. I still managed to try everything I wanted to, most of them things I didn't recognise.

I had a really great day in Piana Degli Albanesi - better than I thought I'd have.