American Invasion, Part Nine: Born on the Fourth of July

Now that all my visitors were finished, it was time to wind down and relax a bit. I took a few days to not do much of anything, which was nice for both my liver and my wallet. One pretty neat, free thing that I took advantage of was a summer film series put on every year by the city's cultural commission. They set up hundreds of chairs in the main square, and a big film screen, and for most of June and July they show films from all over the world in their original language. Art films, indie films, classic films, silent films, westerns - you name it. It's a really cool idea, and kind of surreal to be sitting there at night in a medieval piazza with the stars above your head and a silver screen gem in front of you. Many of my friends from class were one by one disappearing back to their hometowns for the summer, but Birgit was sticking around for a bit so one night we met up for a drink and to see a movie. That night it was Singing in the Rain, which is probably the only decent musical ever made, and as a nice surprise the city's cultural commission flew in the film's now quite ancient director, Stanley Donen. He gave a brief speech before the film started, with an Italian translator to help, and it was really interesting to hear him speak, even if for only a few minutes. He told the story of how the movie came about: that one of the writers, over the course of several years, had already composed the entire catalogue of songs that were featured in the film, independently of each other, and without regard to any kind of plot. Donen then had to come up with the idea of how to link the songs together into a storyline, and that's how the movie came to be.

Not my picture (found it on the internet) but this is the piazza during the summer when the films are showing

At the end of June, I started meeting with a second person to do some English conversation practice and earn some more money. He's a nice guy, maybe 35 years old, that works for the University doing some kind of molecular, biochemical research or something. He's got an awesome little Scottish terrier named Ulisse (Ulysses), so the first time we met up we took him for a walk in a nearby park. It was nice, and with this being only the second time I'd gotten together with someone to do English practice, I was already starting to get over my initial reservations about it. There's not much to complain about when you are earning some money simply by going for a walk or sitting around and speaking your native language. It went well, and afterwards I used my spoils from the first gainful employment in a year to meet up with Jessica in the piazza for some dinner. I wanted to show her one of the best spots in Bologna, the little osteria near the university with cheap, homemade food. I made sure she tried the famous tagliatelle al ragu (so famous they don't even have to put it on the menu), and I had some orecchiette  ('little ears') pasta that was equally delicious.

The next day I earned a little more cash again through speaking practice, with the first guy I'd started with, then went out immediately afterwards to celebrate with friends from class. We hit up a place for aperitivo, then decided we needed to go out that night. It was Wednesday, after all, so that meant it was free to get into the club in the park. But first, we wanted to get started so we wouldn't be spending a bunch of money at the bar. Someone had a bottle of liquor with them, but no cups or anything to mix it with. Our little group of about eight people ended up roaming the streets of Bologna trying to find the necessary accoutrements, and we managed to get some cups from a coffee shop. We even managed to get a couple of bags of ice by going to a few different cafes and asking nicely! Ice is a lot less common here than you'd think - my friends were amazed when I told them how we can just go to the corner store and get a ten pound bag of ice for a dollar. Here they don't sell bags of ice at all, and you're lucky to get more than a few cubes in any drink you ask for. But we now had a couple bags of the cold stuff, some little paper coffee cups, and something to mix with, so we were good to go. After a brief stop in a club in the center, we ended up once more at the club in the park. It was a good time as always, and that night I discovered that the cheapest thing they had to drink were shots of Wild Turkey. There's a funny Argentinian guy that hangs out with us (he's not in our program) who had never heard of the stuff, so I had to introduce him to it. To put it briefly, I now have a whiskey-drinking buddy. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but at least I'm not alone when I have to stretch my budget!

The evening of the next day, I met the guy with the dog to help him out with a presentation he needed to give in a few days time. I went through the slideshow with him and gave a few little suggestions here and there. It was actually pretty interesting, as it was all about molecular and biochemistry stuff that goes on in the human digestion system. I think I actually managed to learn something, and I was getting paid to do it this time instead of the other way around. After that, I headed back into the city center (he lives in the hills just outside town) and met up with Jessica. We were going to see the film in the piazza that night, but first we stopped in a little cafe right nearby for some dinner. She had been craving some tortellini like we have back home; that is, in a sauce. Here they traditionally eat tortellini just in a broth, but this place had it in a cream sauce as well. I enjoyed a nice little lasagna, which made it a fairly authentic Bolognese meal all around as both kinds of pasta were born here! After dinner we went and got a some seats in one of the cafes lining the piazza - it's much more comfortable to sit in their seats, plus you get table service during the movie. We got some gelato and something to drink to enjoy while we watched the film, and that night it was a classic which I hadn't seen before: The African Queen. It was pretty interesting and we both really enjoyed it, although I did get kind of upset when Katharine Hepburn's character poured out all the gin. What a waste! Anyways, it was a nice night and again kind of surreal to be watching a classic English film under the stars in the middle of an ancient Italian piazza.

The following day, I spent most of the afternoon shoe shopping. I was desperately in need of a new pair and you wouldn't believe what a hassle it is to find some decent looking shoes. I couldn't really justify spending a lot of money on some new ones (mostly $70 - $120 in the stores), but all of the cheap ones at the various open-air markets were just ridiculously, comically ugly. Italy (maybe even Europe in general) is in love with shiny, plastic-y, brightly colored shoes, and even though I was more than willing to spring for the bargain-basement prices, everything I could find was just too damn ugly. And believe me, I looked a lot. I'd been keeping my eyes open for weeks and weeks for a new pair, but it was finally at the point I had to replace my old ones. Unfortunately, that day I still couldn't find a decent pair, so I went home defeated. Later that night, I met up with Jessica again to check out another film in the piazza. First we went for a nice aperitivo, then headed to the square to see the movie. It was the old German silent film 'Metropolis', and they had it subtitled in Italian, English, and French (plus the original German text in the movie). I had seen bits and pieces of the movie before during film classes at ASU, and I had always been wanting to see the whole thing. It was a bit slow, and between that and her early to bed, early to rise schedule, Jessica was fading fast, so we ditched the movie and went for a walk around town to wake up. We didn't stay out long though, and called it a night fairly early, but we made some plans for the upcoming Fourth of July holiday. I was really glad to have another American to celebrate it with!

The next day was July 3rd. Jessica and I met up in the city center, and I gave her my patented tour of Bologna with all the sights. We worked up an appetite walking around the city, so we went to eat at this place on the outskirts of town that Jessica had heard about. Called Victoria Station, it's a bar/pub with an English theme, and lots of American-style food on the menu like burgers, ribs, wings, etc. The place is famous for having a real double-decker English bus on top of the restaurant.

We arrived there around 7pm, which of course made us the early birds because the restaurant was just opening for the evening. They eat so late here! We of course were the first ones, so they sat us down and the waiter started chatting us up. He got really excited when he found out we were from the US. He told me all about how the owner spent years in America, working in restaurants, and he wanted to know what we thought about the menu. He spent about 20 minutes just talking to us until other guests started to trickle in. We decided to go all out for our dinner, since there was so much American type stuff on the menu and it was almost the Fourth. For starters we ordered some hot wings and 'nachos', which ended up being a teeny little bowl of tortilla chips with an even tinier little bowl of red sauce to dip it in (I wouldn't exactly call it salsa). The hot wings were good, albeit they were more flavored with paprika or chili powder instead of a proper buffalo sauce.

Oh what I wouldn't give for a bottle of Frank's Red Hot! We each got a burger for our main course, and it was pretty good as far as the burgers I've had here go. And like any good Miller dinner, we spent half the time planning out what we were going to eat the next day for the Fourth.

After dinner, we went back to the city center and Jessica headed home, while I stayed out and met up with my classmates. We started the evening at the flaming-shots bar, which was a pretty good omen for how the evening would end up. Following that, we went back to the open-air club in the courtyard of a palazzo, where we spent most of the night. A bunch of people decided to head home relatively early in the evening, but a handful of us decided we weren't through with having fun yet. Somehow we decided we needed to go to a club that was on the other side of town, so we thought it would be a good idea to have the three of us pile onto one bike and pedal over there. Not the brightest decision ever. With all three of us on the bike, we made it about a half-foot before the rear wheel completely collapsed and crumpled from our weight. Doh! We all fell to the ground in a heap, laughing hysterically. At that point we came to the conclusion that it was probably for the best if we just headed home, but we still had the problem of the broken bike. Solution? Jump up and down on the back wheel until it straightened out, of course! We made it straight enough to 'roll', that is, move it forward as long as we pushed it hard enough (which took considerable force). I was working up a good sweat pushing it towards Riccardo's house, and when the others stopped to get pizza they took turns feeding me bites as I labored against the ruined bike. In hindsight it probably would have been easy enough to just pick the bike up and carry it, but that didn't occur to us after such a rowdy night out.

I was only able to get a few hours of sleep that night before having to wake up and meet Jessica once again in the city center - partly because I woke up relatively early, and partly because it was so incredibly hot that I couldn't fall asleep. Very few homes here have air conditioning, and we are unfortunately not one of them. Anyways, we met up and went to one of the only grocery stores in the city that is open on a Sunday, where we loaded up on Fourth of July goodies. We pretty much planned on spending the whole day at my place listening to, watching, and eating all things American. We cracked open some beers and started a movie, then made the main course. We don't have a grill, but that wasn't going to stop us from cooking up some good ol' American burgers on the stovetop. Some buttered sweet corn from a can and patriotic music in the background rounded out the meal. We watched another movie, this time National Treasure, to get a little dose of American 'history' for the holiday. Halfway through the movie we stopped to make some very traditional, all-American desserts: oreos and milk, and smores! The smores were pretty interesting. Of course all we had to use for a flame was the stovetop, and things got a little bit messy. The marshmallows were a little strange too - they don't have big white ones here, just medium-sized ones that are shaped kind of strangely and with lots of colors, but they taste the same. And graham crackers don't exist here! So we improvised with some cookies that taste kind of similar and already come with a thick chocolate coating on top of them.

Flaming marshmallow goo is dangerous when you're as hairy as I am. Also, notice the chocolate is melting simply from the ambient air temperature...

We enjoyed our makeshift smores, and finished up our red, white, and blue evening watching the movie. When Maria, one of my roommates, got home later that night, I introduced her to the smore and she immediately fell in love with it, as can be expected. Don't say I never did anything for you, Italy. It was a good trade too, because she'd brought home a standing fan for me to use so I could actually get some sleep that night. I could part with a few smores for that!

Still more stories left to tell - stay tuned gentle readers!

American Invasion, Part Eight

Just a few days after our exciting game of werewolves and villagers, my next guest arrived. Joey, a friend I know through Alee (and consequently have spent many a debauched night with in Vegas) was travelling through Italy and would spend a few days with me here in Bologna. He arrived on Monday, June 21st, later on in the afternoon. The first order of business, of course, was to go to aperitivo. We dragged along one of my roommates, Alice, and headed to the ol' standby English pub for some grub, beer, and soccer.

Joey, housemate Alice, and yours truly

While there at the pub, we randomly ran into another American girl named Jessica. She was doing an internship in Bologna for a month, but didn't really know anyone in the city and was just sitting at the bar like a lost puppy, so we invited her over to sit with us and enjoy some American company. We finished watching the game and exchanged info so that she could meet up with us another time during her short stay here in Bologna, then Joey and I headed home. Nothing crazy was going on since it was Monday, and I also had to meet up with some classmates the next day to do a little groupwork, so it ended up being an early night.

Joey and I having a brewski at the pub

The next day, while I was busy with my groupmates struggling with a less-than-thrilling statistics project, Joey went off and explored the city on his own. He saw most of the touristy stuff there is to do in Bologna, and I instead was completely lost and cursing aloud various cluster analyses, Eigen vectors, and t-test graphs. I would probably rather be mauled by rabid badgers than have to study statistics, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. We took a lunch break and Joey met up with us for a quick sandwich at our regular cafe just outside the Economics college, but then afterwards it was back to work and Joey set off to do some more wandering. After a few more hours of statistical torture, we broke for the day and I met up again with Joey. We went to go find a place to grab a beer and watch one of the World Cup games. That day it was South Africa vs France, so of course we were routing for South Africa. We also happened to meet a South African gal at the pub we were at, which made it even more fun to watch them beat those silly Frenchmen. We had such a good time together cheering on the South Africans against those wine-swilling snail-eaters that we ended up having dinner and drinks together with our new friend and another acquaintance of hers. Joey hadn't been out on the town yet, so of course we had to show him a good time with a typical Bologna evening that included a thrilling back-alley car ride (ever seen a rally race? that is pretty much average every-day driving for any Italian), a trip to a historic enoteca, and of course a visit to the always-popular club inside the park.

It was a late night, so naturally we slept in on that Wednesday, 23rd of June. We had plans for the evening already, but first thing's first: the US was playing in the early game against Algeria, so we headed to a pub to watch the game.

Rolling in public transit to watch the USA game

Wouldn't you know it, we ran into a group of about eight Algerians who were at the same pub, and we ended up sitting with them to enjoy a little friendly rivalry. The game was pretty even, without too much for anyone to get overly excited for on either side. About halfway through, another small group of Americans showed up and joined us. This time, though, it was a group of highschoolers on a field trip. Like any good school excursion, their chaperons were nowhere to be seen, so they were - how should I put this - enthusiastically taking advantage of Italy's lower drinking age (which is 18, and they were most certainly not yet 18, but getting carded at a bar in Italy is about as likely as encountering a leprechaun riding a unicorn). The game continued back-and-forth, and in the closing minutes everyone was already resigned to accepting a draw for the game. Then at the very last minute, the US scored and we five Americans exploded in jubilation. If only I had a camera to capture the look on the faces of the Algerians in that moment... One of the girls actually teared up! It was an amazing victory, and we couldn't have been more thrilled.

The aftermath of the 91st-minute goal. We in the bar were almost as excited.

After the game, we met another American couple who were travelling around Europe. We shot the breeze about the game for a bit, and I gave them lots of tips about Bologna and what to do here. We walked around and I showed them a good place to have dinner at, but we didn't join them as our plans that evening were to meet my classmates for a big dinner party. In fact, after parting ways with the couple by the restaurant, Joey and I embarked on our assigned mission: the all-important procurement of wine. Luca, my buddy from class whose house the party would be at, had a bunch of two and five liter wine jugs laying around, which is great because here you can get wine in bulk at the grocery store. You just bring your jugs and go up to these huge self-serve stainless steel wine casks, open up the valve, and fill up on your choice of fermented grape juice. We gathered 14 liters of wine for the party and brought it back to Luca's place - which was by no means an easy task, by the way. Two Americans stumbling around with arms full of heavy wine jugs is not exactly an everyday occurrence here in Bologna, and it definitely garnered us a lot of strange looks. But we persevered, and completed our mission, then headed home for a quick wash-up after our sweaty, labored walk. I invited Jessica, our new American friend from the pub a few nights earlier, along to the dinner, so we met up with her in the main piazza and headed to Luca's place for the evening.

Procuring the bulk wine

The party was already going by the time we arrived (thanks in no small part to the massive amount of wine we'd lugged over), and the smell coming from the kitchen was incredible. Luca is one of those stereotypical naturally-talented Italian cooks, and every time we end up at his place to hang out the first thing he does is head to the kitchen to whip up some snack from whatever happens to be laying around. But at a dinner party like that, with time to prepare, it was really amazing. We feasted on a couple different types of homemade bruschetta, a huge pot of papardelle pasta with mushrooms, and a big bowl of meatballs. It was amazing.

Jessica and I at the party; Americans enjoying the fruits of Italian labor

Packed into the tiny elevator at Luca's place. It's smaller than it looks.

We continued to load up on the wine, and then headed out as one big group to find something to do for the night. We stopped by a place called Vicolo Bolognetti first, which is a big palazzo in the city center that has an open courtyard in the middle. It becomes a club during the summer nights, but it wasn't too happening that evening so of course we ended the night at our favorite place, the club in the park.

The next day, Thursday, the fun continued. It was the birthday of one of our classmates, Valentino, and he'd reserved space for us at a bar to celebrate. It was aperitivo style, and we bought our own drinks while the bar staff brought out a continuous supply of fried rice balls, eggplant, frittata (kind of like an omelette) and other assorted goodies. Meanwhile, as the alcohol consumption increased, so did the volume of our voices (naturally). We were sitting outside in a little courtyard behind the bar, shared by the rest of the building. Apparently we were being too loud though, because the bar staff kept coming out and telling us we had to be quiet because of the neighbors. Mind you, this was at like 9 or 10 at night. Only in Italy could we get shushed at a bar! We finished stuffing our faces with the snacks, then headed out for another evening of entertainment.

Joey, Me, Valentino (the bday boy) and Jason at the bar

We walked across the city center to Vicolo Bolognetti, where we'd been for a short time the night before. On the way we passed a McDonald's, where some of the crew decided they hadn't had enough to eat yet and wanted to scarf some burgers. Joey joined in the Mickey D's raid, but I steadfastly refused - I'm in Italy dammit, ain't no McDonald's passing these lips while I have Italian food handy! 

Once we arrived at the nightclub, the partying commenced right away. We danced for a bit, but it was already time for a potty break, so some of us headed off to find the bathrooms. There was of course a gigantic line, so we stood there and started talking to the others for awhile. I was conversing with some Italians while Joey spoke in good ol' English with a Dutch guy. He started talking smack about America, so I joined in the fray and Joey and I had to verbally double team him to show him the error of his ways and defend America's honor. After that, still waiting in line, we met a gaggle of Irish girls who were a lot of fun. We were having such a good time that we ended up spending the whole night standing there in line, just meeting and talking to people. All of a sudden it was the last song of the night, and we had to move on to another bar. We followed the Irish girls to a place that specializes in shots. We each got a shot and one of the girls bought four for herself and her three friends. Or at least that's what we thought. As soon as the shots arrived, we started ours but the Irish lass didn't stop! She did all four shots right in a row, while Joey and I looked on in amazement. Dang, I guess what they say about the Irish is true! After that, we called it quits. It was clear that we could not hang with such hardened carousers, and we had to get up early-ish the next day, so we headed back home.

The plan that Friday was for Joey to take a solo trip to nearby Ravenna to see the quaint little city with all its ancient churches, and meanwhile I had to meet again with my statistics group to work on our project. Joey woke up and headed out early, but as I found out later he had a bit of bad luck with just about every form of public transportation in Italy trying to get to Ravenna and consquently he arrived there pretty late, despite the efforts to the contrary. I spent the afternoon cursing statistics, and when Joey got back we gave Jessica a call to see if she wanted to join us for some grub. We were going to eat kind of late, as is the fashion in Italy, so Jessica had already had dinner, but she came along anyway to provide us two dudes with some much needed genteel company. We had a great meal at one of my favorite places here in Bologna, a cramped, dimly lit osteria behind one of the city's famous churches. They serve up huge platters of meats and cheese, typical specialties of the region, along with the local kinds of bread. And cheap wine, of course. It was an excellent meal, as always, and we had a nice time hanging out without getting too crazy that night.

At the osteria - wine, meat, and cheese. That's all you need in life.

The next day was Joey's last here in Bologna before his trip took him further south to meet up with some other friends he knows in Italy. He was leaving in the afternoon, so we got up and out early. I gave him the full official guided tour of the city, with all the major stops. He'd already been to some of the sites previously when wandering about on his own, but now with my trademarked and copyrighted tour, he got the full details of all the stuff in the city.

Getting ready in the morning. My room, which I don't think I've put up pictures of previously.

Standing next to the leaning tower of Bologna

Stone furniture inside the 15th century courtyard of the old City Hall

After seeing the city, it was time for Joey to head off into the sunset. And just like that, it was one more friend from home that had come and gone. It was the end of the long string of planned visitors I had for the summer, but as fate would have it, it wasn't the end of hanging out with good ol' red-blooded Americans here in Bologna. I'd just met Jessica a few days earlier, and she would be staying in Bologna for a while, so we would have more adventures to come. But those stories are for yet another post! See you then, gentle readers.

American Invasion, Part Seven

Greetings once again gentle readers. I've had tons of excitement lately, thanks to a few weeks spent travelling to different places all over Europe. I have lots of stories and wonderful pictures from those journeys, but first I want to catch up once and for all with all the stories and adventures I've neglected in the last few months. So, let's proceed, shall we?


We last left off with me saying goodbye to Ryan in Rome so that I could return to Bologna for a test the next day. That day was Tuesday, June 8th - yeah, a long time ago, I know! So sorry for the delays in updates, but better late than never, right?


Anyways, on Tuesday morning, we had our test for Strategic Accounting. It was absolutely as exciting as it sounds. After the test, some others went out for an early drink, but I had to go to the train station to meet another friend that was coming to Bologna for a visit. Jo, who I know through Mom's former secretary Krista, was coming back through Italy (we'd all spent Christmas together in Rome, if you recall - go back and see the old post to refresh your memory). I was going to let her crash on my couch so she didn't have to get a hotel here, and I was supposed to pick her up from the train station. Unfortunately, our communication wasn't the best as she was travelling through other parts of Europe at the same time and didn't have a phone or consistent internet access. As such, I didn't know exactly when she was coming in, or from where; nor did we establish an exact meeting spot. So, I just showed up around the time I thought she was getting in, and waited with fingers crossed to see if she would walk right by in front of me. So I waited... and waited... and waited some more. After quite a bit of time had passed, I called one of my friends and had them log-in to my email account. There was a letter there from Jo, explaining that her plans had changed and she was instead heading to France for two days, and would be by Bologna later on in the week. No biggie - we had made some plans as a class for later that night anyway, so I headed home to get ready for the evening.


The night's entertainment would begin at a traditional Bolognese institution called Osteria del Sole, a place which to me seems about as close as you can get to a medieval inn. Situated right in the heart of the city, practically in the shadow of the 800 year old cathedral, it's basically one big room lined with huge wooden tables for communal eating. But they don't serve any food there; you bring whatever it is you want to eat, and they are more than happy to provide the beer and wine to go along with it. So maybe ten or twelve of us from the class showed up, all bringing some kind of food to share with the group: cheese, prosciutto, pizza, bread, spicy salami from Spain, fruit, sandwiches - the whole nine yards. It was noisy and chaotic, but the drinks flowed like water and we had a really good time. Afterwards, we went to our regular summer party place - the club in the public park. We get in for free on Tuesday nights, but they stopped our friend Riccardo at the door. The bouncers didn't like that he was coming in with a backpack on. It's what he'd used to bring food to dinner, but we went to the club directly after the meal so there was nothing else to do with it. Afraid that he was trying to sneak bottles of alcohol in, the bouncers asked Riccardo what was inside. With a straight face, he had to tell them, 'Oh, it's just salami'. They laughed and let him in, and we gave him a hard time for the rest of the night for being a salami smuggler.


Later on that week, Jo finally arrived. It was pretty late on Thursday night when she got in; unfortunately, that was a direct result of someone stealing her wallet in France. As you can imagine she'd had a pretty long day by the time she got here, so we just came back to my place and I cooked up a small meal before calling it a night. The next day, we got up early and went to see the city. I took her along all the main sights on my world-famous Bologna guided tour; the main square, cathedral, ancient ruins inside the public library, the two towers, canals, etc etc. I showed her the greatness that is the aperitivo in Bologna, so we ate pretty well and then headed to quiet little Piazza Santo Stefano for a beer with a friend from my class. Some other friends from class decided to go out that night as well, so we ended up having some more beers at the English pub in the student quarter and then ending the night with my favorite late-night Bologna tourist attraction: shots on fire. I don't know what it is about the combination of flames and alcohol, but it is just good clean fun. We couldn't make it too late a night, as she had another train to catch the next morning. 


We managed to get to the station on time, and just like that another American was off and away. I met with my friend Jason for lunch at his place, where his girlfriend cooked us up some wonderful little snacks and sandwiches. Afterwards we met up with a few others to catch the start of the Soccer World Cup games. It was the big US match versus England, and everyone was pretty skeptical that the US could pull it off. I spent a good amount of time before the match reassuring them that the US could do it, only to have England score on us in the first five minutes. DOH! But we ended up coming back later in the game to tie, so it all went better than expected.


The next day there were a lot more World Cup games on, and as you know it is a big deal all over Europe; Italy being no exception. We met back up at the same bar the next day to watch Spain's match, then afterwards we joined in a big street festival that was going on to kick off the games. All the bars and pubs in the student area had tables and chairs set up outdoors to enjoy the nice summer weather and take advantage of soccer fans willing to part with their hard earned cash. There were big mobile keg-carts set up in the streets, and one place even had an entire roast pig laid out on a table that they were carving up for sandwiches. It was a carnival-like atmosphere, so we hung out there most of the night and enjoyed the fresh air.


This sort of activity would pretty much be the norm for the next few weeks. Soccer is serious business in Italy, and without classes to attend it was pretty much day after day of  'where are we meeting to watch the game?' Monday the 14th was the first day that Italy played, and their game was relatively early so we met up and had an aperitivo right before the match. It was disappointingly unexciting, ending in a tie. Afterwards I went home and had my own battle to deal with; along with the warmer weather came tons of bugs, and a veritable invasion was taking place in my room. I killed a few random ones, and was relaxing in bed. Towards bedtime I looked up, and saw this little guy peering at me from the corner of my room, above the bed:

The picture is from the web, but that's what was staring back at me. I had no idea what it was at first, but I knew that it and I could not peacefully coexist in the same abode. It had to die. So - battle lines were drawn. I developed an airtight strategy, one that would only succeed on the first strike. Everything had to go perfectly, or else the critter would be lost forever in the room and I would never, ever be able to sleep again. Luckily, my plan work, and the alien being was vanquished on the first try. I could finally rest peacefully. Thus ended the battle of the insects.

The following Friday, I had a nice surprise coming my way. When I first arrived in Italy, way back in September of 2009, I had to apply for a 'Permesso di Soggiorno' - a little plastic card that identifies me as a foreign resident and allows me to remain in Italy, and travel in/out of the country. Without it, I could not leave the country after 90 days had passed from my first arrival. By law, the card is supposed to be furnished within three weeks; however, as I found out through searching the internet, it is rare that it takes fewer than several months, and typically it takes even longer than that. Finally, June 18th, mine was ready to be picked up at the local immigration office. It only took nine months!

I spent the afternoon waiting in line there at the immigration office, because everything in Italy requires waiting in line. Just coming in, giving your name, and picking up something that is already ready would be far too easy to be any fun. So after a few hours, I finally laid hands upon my sweet, sweet symbol of newfound freedom that I had been waiting so long to get. I really wanted to see some other places in Europe; but at the time, I didn't know it would still take me awhile to utilize this freshly gained opportunity.

Later on that same day, I embarked on a different kind of adventure. In order to earn a little bit of money to sustain myself while here, I decided to do what a lot of native English speakers do while abroad and give language lessons for a small fee. I met my first client at the cafe in the public park, where we had a nice little chat and hit it off pretty well. I was a little nervous to begin with, but he already spoke English at a high level and was really looking just to practice his speaking abilities, so I mostly just had to listen and add some suggestions here and there. It's ended up being a fairly easy way to make a few bucks without too much effort, and works pretty well since my ever-changing school schedule doesn't really lend itself to regular employment (not to mention I make more per hour doing conversation practice, albeit not too many hours per week).

Later on that evening, I met up with my pals from class once again to celebrate my new gainful employment. After a few glasses of wine at someone's house, we wandered into the city center where we enjoyed that wonderful Italian summer staple, gelato, and then headed to a really cool place to spend the evening. One of the big movie theaters in the city transforms the secluded courtyard in front of it into an open bar and cafe during the summer months, with communal tables set up for drinking and eating plus live music and table games like foosball set up for people to enjoy. It was really cool, especially with the weather being so nice during the evening, and we stayed there for hours just enjoying a few frosty beverages, playing games, and chatting. I savor every opportunity such as that one, because as counter-intuitive as it may seem, my Italian seems to improve with each glass of beer - and it's not just in my head, as most of my friends here will tell you they would agree with that statement. I guess that means maybe I have a future in managing Italian beer companies? Only time will tell!

The next night, we all met up again for some more fun. It's such a tough life for students during the summer months, right? This night would turn out to be particularly insightful and entertaining as a cultural exchange.

It started, of course, with some beers and pizza. We wanted to go out together that night, but it started pouring cats and dogs outside, so we began playing a game to tide us over until the rain stopped. It was a game I'd never encountered before in the US; I don't know if it exists back home, but the version we played in Italian was a lot of fun. It's called 'Werewolves and Villagers', which describes the basic premise of the game. It doesn't involve a board or any playing pieces; rather, it is a game of psychology and social engineering wherein participants are assigned randomly a role as either a villager or a werewolf. The villagers don't know who the werewolves are, but the werewolves (usually two at a time) know each other. One person is chosen to narrate and guide the events of the game, which starts with all the villagers being asleep at night (ie with their eyes closed). The two werewolves then awaken (open their eyes), and agree upon one of the villagers to kill. They go back to sleep, and the narrator guides everyone to wake up the next morning and announces which of the villagers was last night's dinner. The ten or so villagers then have to decide who amongst them is the killer, and sentence one of their own to death, but of course the whole time the werewolves are secretly trying to influence the choice. The game continues like that, albeit with a few more intricacies and complications, until either the two wolves are killed or the werewolves manage to eat all the villagers. It was a ton of fun, especially in a room full of loud and rowdy Italians, with wild accusations being thrown all around and everyone trying to manipulate someone to some kind of end. The rain never let up that night, and we ended up spending hours playing the game well into the morning. It was a really fun and different way to pass a Saturday night!

I still have plenty of adventures from the summer to tell, but I'll try to get them spread out over a few posts so as not to be too overwhelming. The crowning jewels, of course, will be the pictures and tales from my time spent around Europe. Please stay tuned for many more updates in the near future!