Becoming Oriented

It turns out I'm living in the dorm that's twenty minutes away from campus and on the fifth floor which should make things interesting. Although it looks like I'm not going to have any classes before noon which should hopefully make things less interesting. I love my room. It's at least four times the size of my room at Taylor and has it's own bathroom, refrigerator, and kitchen table. The only downside is that the bed is narrower than I am used to, and as I'm on the top bunk, this had already proved to be somewhat precarious. My three roommates, Lidiya, Oksana, and Tetyana are all from Ukraine and since my Ukrainian is a bit rusty we communicate as best we can in English. Lidiya is an RA and loves literature. She has read all the Harry Potter books in Russian, Ukrainian, and English and says that they are very different, having been changed to reflect different cultural values. Tetyana reminds me a lot of my cousin Lindsay which is very good thing as Lindsay can turn even the most mundane occurrence into a laughable anecdote. All three of them seem very nice and I look forward to getting to know them more.

Today was more orientation. We perfected our schedules, learned some Lithuanian words, and listened to several speeches. They told us not to stress out, but not to forget that we're representing our schools...our country...and Christendom itself. Okay then.

We went on a walking tour of Klaipeda and saw many interesting restaurants, shops, and markets. The weather was very volatile, sunny one moment and pouring sheets of horizontal rain the next. "Is this typical?" I asked one of the interns. "Oh yes, they even call Lithuania 'the Land of Rain." Funny, that wasn't in the brochure. Looks like I"ll just have to buy some cute rain boots. Oh darn...

Vinius

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Yesterday we toured the town of Vilnius. During the walk to breakfast we passed a bridge covered with locks of every conceivable size and shape. Apparently, when couples get married they attach a lock to the bridge as a symbol of their love, commitment, and new found imprisonment. As the walk continued one of our leaders pointed out that the men of Lithuania like to wear man bags and incredibly pointy shoes. Honestly, one of my favorite things has to been to look at what everyone is wearing. I mean the Coliseum was great and all...(joking...-kind of:) Unfortunately, some parasitic forms of fashion have wiggled their way in, not unlike a tape worm on an exotic island, including Hello Kitty T-shirts, Crocs, and High School Musical apparel. The walk continued to continue (I get the feeling that I'm going to be doing a lot of that-walking) and Natalija explained that the first couple days are amusing as everyone is very jet-lagged. A few years ago, one guy was so tired that as the first dinner progressed, his head bobbed deeper and deeper towards the table. After some time, he leaned so far forward that his head came into contact with the candle and caught on fire. The girl next to him, thinking quickly, smacked him across the head to extinguish the flames. "What?" he asked groggily. "Your hair was on fire!" she exclaimed. "Oh."

The first stop on our tour was a building which had formerly been used as a prison by the Nazi's and then by the KGB and which now was a museum. You know something, the KGB were jerks. Our guide told us about various forms of torture and showed us how the cell wall had been painted sixteen times because prisoners had desperately written out their stories on the wall, a final testament to a world most of them would never see again. Then he took us to the execution chamber, a small, dark cave with drains in the floor to direct all the blood and walls riddled with bullet holes. The guide explained to us that his grandfather had been a Freedom Fighter until he was captured and killed by the KGB. His body was dumped in the town square to be claimed by the family. When his grandmother went retrieve the body of her dead husband the KGB watched like hawks. If they saw her crying she would be thrown into prison. It wasn't until she got home that she could weep.

Next we went to a couple churches. Lithuania's church history is very interesting because they were last European country to become Christian, and for a long time they held pagan services in Christain churches so that their more devout neighbors would start trading with them again. Then we went down into the catacombs which smelled a lot like the inside of an old ice skate but where it was fun learning about the deceased Lithuanian royalty.

Oh, and the last note worthy thing that happened was that I tasted some chocolate that tasted exactly like eggnog! Wow.

Arriving in Lithuania

As our tiny plane was landing in Lithuania, I could not stop myself from grinning like an idiot. (Something I think a random Lithuanian guy took the wrong way...) Anyway, Natalija was there to pick us up and take us to taxi. All of a sudden, (I feel like I've been saying that a lot lately) we hear what sounds like a full orchestra playing what sounds like some sort of national anthem. Natalija explained that two of the Lithuanian Olympians had returned. Then a huge crowd poured out of the airport, flashbulbs exploding, people shouting, silver balloons bouncing...The Olympians had huge wreaths around their necks and smiles on their faces as they enjoyed the well deserved adoration of their countrymen.

The taxi drove us to the hostel where we met some of the directors and interns and were given a snack. Then they took us took us to our room. Jaclyn and I exchange forced smiles, not knowing what to expect. The door swung open and we took in our surroundings. Two short very short boxy beds whose shape reminded me vaguely of coffins, a tiny lone mirror about the size of a mini van window, and a trash can. But, since our room seems to be a deluxe version, we have a tv whose screen is smaller than my laptop's and a single shower crammed in the corner. A single shower which is completely translucent. Or was, in any case. I was able to rig some sort of curtain using towels, a carabiner, a binder clip, and bobby pins.

Well, I'm ready to go to sleep, I have a big today tomorrow and a lot of places I'll need to be on time (wince.) Later.

Rome

Rick Steves said we were crazy, the Meinkens had deep reservations, but we did it! We saw nearly all the major sights of Rome in one day! The Coliseum, Forum, Vatican Museum, Sistine Chapel, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Pantheon, and Trevi Fountain. In the back of my mind, I had kind of pictured everything nicely laid out, like Washington DC, only with less grass. Ha! Major points of interest were sprawled all across the city to be seen only after charging through a gauntlet of uneven cobblestones, slanted steps, and steep inclines.

Our first destination was the Coliseum and with the help of Rick Steves we were able to pretty vividly picture what had happened there. Although it made me wish that I had watched the movie Gladiator and that I hadn’t watched the heinous movie, Jumper, which had filmed a scene there.

Besides the Sistine Chapel, my favorite stop was St. Peters. Its vast, celestial grandeur made me feel very small, both in terms of space and in terns of time, its sheer scale reminding me of the greatness, the vastness of our God.

And that’s where I give up trying to describe the monuments I saw…They were far too magnificent for my petty writing skills. I do have a couple other things I want to share though.

Many of my favorite things from that day were not listed in Rick Steves book. One of them happened outside the Pantheon. A chubby little boy toddled after the pigeons, who cooed unappreciatively. Every time the pigeons would scatter, the boy was overcome with a fit of giggles. As Jaclyn pointed out, the best part of the scene was the mother’s expression as she chased after him chasing after the pigeons, an expression of complete love and utter devotion.

The Pantheon was near the end of the day, by which time my feet blazed with pain. To make matters worse, we missed out train which had switched tracks at the last minute. Then, when were driving back, Mr. Meinken took a wrong turn and ended up driving to some random village. So there I was, sitting in the back seat having a little pity party when suuddenly, we saw a bright green flash in the sky. Fireworks! We pulled the car to the side of the road and got out. A few people had already assembled, and others soon pulled over or came out of their houses to join our impromptu gathering. All day, there had been a lot of miscommunication, confusion, and chaos. And yet… we were all standing there together, marveling at the same the thing, appreciating the same fiery beauty. We were all just people.

Spoleto

Our destination for the day was the quaint and quiet hill town Spoleto, or so we thought.. [cue semi-ominous music.] On the way to Spoleto we drove past a hamlet named Narni which was rumored to inspire a certain famous author. Right before we arrived we stopped to take some pictures and scent of wild basil suddenly flooded the car. Not long after, we were panting our way up to the castle at the top of the town. With all the parapets, turrets, and arrow slits, I fully expected to see Robin Hood (or some Italian equivalent) leaping over the side to be caught by Little John (or some Italian equivalent.) The walls of the castle were lined with frescos which frankly, seemed unremarkable. There was one in particular that did catch my attention. Whereas all the other frescoes were in excellent condition and depicting this biblical event or that pope, there was one in bed chamber of a young man that looked like it had been attacked with a chisel, an ex-boyfriend perhaps?

As we walked back from the castle we saw a bunch of cars lined up in a little alley. Without warning, Jaclyn and Mr. Meinken got really excited while Nani and I just gave each other bewildered looks. Apparently these fourteen little red cars were Ferrari's and apparently that's something special. After gawking for about twenty minutes, we started hearing the loud, guttural reeving of engines so we went off in search of the source.

We were pleased to discover that the denizens of Spoletp had closed down the center of town for an afternoon of motorcycle racing. By the time we got there, the older guys were racing, roaring around corners and slamming into hay stacks. While watching, we savored some gelato. Never before have I discovered the taste of ripe cantelope captured so superbly.

Exploring

I started out the day in the best way possible: by sleeping in obscenely late. After I tried to eat a peach that seemed to explode more with each bite, we put on our tennis shoes and bounded out the door. (Or as close as I ever get to bounding.) Nani, our fearless leader, charged ahead, eventually leading us to the large grove adjacent to the house. She carried a red basket for collecting any choice berries or lush apples we could find. Jaclyn and I lagged behind, trying to permanently remember the light dancing in the olive trees and the soft breeze ruffling the golden grass. Eventually, we came across a long expanse of blackberries which Jaclyn and I eagerly devoured while I was vaguely reminded of a certain poem I had read in high school. Nani thought we were being silly and quickly picked a bunch of berries for us, indicating that we should pick up the pace. Jaclyn and I took many pictures, experimenting with light and color. Meanwhile, Nani (who had tired of us taking pictures of her) made a wreath of olive leaves and placed it upon my head. Finally it was time to head back to the house. Nani pointed out an expired bird and suggested I take a picture of its bright yellow feather. I thought the bird deserved some sort of burial rights simply on account of its beauty. I arranged the body with a stick and said a few words until Nani started pelting me with blackberries and shouting at me to stop being weird (I think she needs to meet my sisters.)

Mr. Meinken then drove us into town where we visited a small, strange-smelling fruit and vegetable shop (come to think of it, the entire town had a plethora of strange smells) and then went off in search of an elusive sculptor. While Jaclyn and I were waiting, we visited the Italian equivalents of Claire's and Victoria's Secret. Then we stopped at a bakery to nab some powdered confections. Most seemed to be filled with a creamy, Nutella-like substance.

After driving home (the usual blind- corners- whizzing- vespas- narrow- like- Star- Wars- trash- compactor- death- trap ride) we got ready for dinner. Mr. Meinken was the head chef and we, his eager assistants. He assigned me the task of grating the cheese (something for which I was well qualified, thanks grandma!) Next came time to cut the bread. The softest bread to be gotten from the grocery was the hardest bread I had ever encountered. It was not until I had little beads of sweat on my forehead that I had wrestled the bread into submission. Finally, we carried our food onto the candlelit back patio and thanked God for all his blessings. After "amen" everyone else starting recapping a conversation I had missed (while I was asleep) about the intricacies of making cheese. Then Mr. Meinken started asking random questions. The first question was, "Who was your first love?" I asked Mr. Meinken whose his was and he said that in second grade he liked a girl named Laura, though all he could remember about her was her excellent posture. (This story was eerily familiar.) I said that my first love was Vinnie Santilino in third grade. I thought he was so cute because he wore a leather jacket and gelled his hair. (I've come to believe that the sale of hair gel is vastly importantly to Italy's economic development.) Then Mr. Meinken asked us what the greatest lesson we had learned from our father was. I was the first to answer, "Everything is negotiable." Mr. Meinken went on to talk about being a father and how at some point you just have to trust that you've done the best you could and leave it up to your kids. He then told us that few will change the world by building large factories, becoming famous politicians, or dying for a great cause. For most of us, our children will be the only legacy we leave...

After we sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating, we started clearing the dishes. When clean up was finally complete, we piled back into the car and headed back into town for a concert. As earlier concerts had included jazz, classical music, and bad Beatles covers, I approached this event with some trepidation. Fortunately for us (meaning Jaclyn and I, not Mr. Meinken and Nani) it was an Italian Rock band called Reset. While we discussed the possibility of a two-person mosh pit, I got my first impressions of the performers. The lead singer was standard issue, although he got bonus points for playing the harmonica. The guitarist on the right wore an expression of alternating mischief and pleading, giving me the impression that he had apologized to many women. The guitarist on the left seemed to be trying a little too hard, as though he had spent his formative years playing video games and latched on to the guitar with the strength of a desperate barnacle. The drummer was mostly inscrutable (that one's for you, Christin) though it seemed he would eat a rabbit raw, possibly while it was still moving, and yet love babies. I thought the band was very talented. I can't imagine how much better it would have been had I actually known what they were saying. Although coolness needs no translation.

Florence

Today we hopped on a train bound for Florence and ended up in a very Harry-Potter-looking kind of car. When a porter came by with a cart of snacks, I resisted the terrible urge to ask for a chocolate frog.

After switching trains, getting lunch (the pasta was not nearly as good as grandma's), and a long walk we ended up at the Galleria Dell Uffizi where we saw famous works such as the Primavera (pictured) and The Birth of Venus. Yet one can only look at so many depictions of the blessed Virgin Mary. (I think I'll be counting them in my sleep tonight.) To break the monotony, Sayre pulled out pages from Rick Steves' (or "Ricky" as we now affectionately call him) guide book and began reading aloud. Here's a brief excerpt from the part describing Primavera, "The Graces may be symbolic of the three form of love- love of beauty, love of people, and sexual love suggested by the raised intertwined fingers. (They forgot love of peanut-butter-on-toast.) " Ricky also took time to mock some of the earlier works, especially the experiments in perspective and some really awkward looking toes. After a quick gelato break, we went to La Academia Museo to see David. 'Nough said.

We spent some time shopping at a flea market and then I had a Big Mac for dinner. It was at this swankiest of McDonalds that I had one of my few positive interactions with an Italian person (meaning, they weren't yelling at me, hitting on me, pushing me, asking me for money, or looking at me like I'm crazy.)

Surprisingly enough, we managed to deftly navigate both the street signs and the train schedules for the majority of the day. ("We" meaning Sayre and Jaclyn.) I took it upon myself to be vigilant while they were looking at the map (the first rule of self defense, if I remember correctly from 6th grade.)

During the long train ride home we played Ghost, and there was some controversy over how to spell "villain", a clear indication of our exhaustion. By the time we got back to the house, we were tired, grimy, and ridiculously happy...

Good Morning!

This morning I woke up, stumbled out of bed, climbed up some stairs, and ambled down the hallway. "Am I really in Italy?" I wondered, considering the possibility that this could be a very realistic hallucination. I decided to step onto the balcony for a second and wanted to weep for the view that assailed me. (This picture doesn't nearly do it justice.) The most beautiful sight I've ever seen was followed by the most incredible apple danish I have ever tasted, life-altering really. Unfortunately, I was sick a couple weeks ago, and with all the travel I seem to have gone into a bit of relapse. So right now everyone else is splashing around in the Mediterranean and I'm at the villa alone, downing Gatorade which is perfectly fine by me. I just want to enjoy the sunshine and sleep. Shocker, I know. I can't wait to get better and see what else in store [thumbs up.]