All'inizio, c'erano appuntamenti (In the beginning, there were appointments)

So, finally...hello from Bologna!  To explain a bit, this blog is in lieu of writing the same email 30 times each time I want to tell you all about my experiences abroad, whether it be my life here in Bologna or the trips I plan on making throughout the year.  Since this is, for me, just another form of correspondence, I strongly encourage you all to write me back so that I can be updated on your lives too (come on people, this is a two way street, here).

I won't lie, the move was harder than I expected it to be, especially after such an incredible summer at Watervale.  In fact, I can't imagine a stranger transition to make.  As usual, though, these things never really hit me until they are actually happening...so this didn't even seem completely real until I was actually on the plane.  And even then it didn't seem entirely real since I flew Lufthansa, and a German flight is probably as different from an Italian one as you can get.  Literally in Bologna was where it all truly began.  Checking into my hotel, meeting my program directors, buying a cell phone...and somehow I pulled my (terribly grammatically incorrect) Italian out of the back of my lazy, sun-soaked summer brain.  

In all, my program consists of about 25 students, all from different universities across the states.  For these first couple weeks, being together, it's a little hard - we alternate between English and Italian, but it's obvious that we all make mistakes (not to mention that it still feels strange to get to know each other in another language - you can only go so far in your non-native tongue).  The amazing part is, we have an fantastic group of people.  Everyone is incredibly different, but the group seems to click so well.  I love that this program is so independent, but as for this first month, it's great that we can all bond with each other.  We joke that each time one of us makes a foreign friend, they get 25 Americans for the price of one.  Frankly, I am amazed that we all share the same sorts of priorities for the year - we want to be friends, but we don't want to live together.  Even though doubles are easier to find than singles, none of us would think of being roommates.  So, what am I trying to say here...it's great to have this security, this circle of friends who you know will understand you in an American way, but it is in no way a group that inhibits your experience or your immersion abroad.  I knew I picked this program for a reason.

But before I bore you all to death, this is where the real adventure begins...

I was homeless.  Yup, I can officially claim this.  Thank you BCSP, for putting me up in this little hotel with air conditioning and free breakfast, however, even little Nutella packets cannot quell the uncertainty and reality of homelessness.  So despite the fact that my first instinct was to drown this fear and unhappiness in mountains of gelato (which I only sort of did), I started apartment hunting almost immediately.  The thing is, Bologna is a college town - sort of a medieval Ann Arbor, sans college football - and therefore, everyone needs to find housing.  One would think it would be a painless process, and it sort of is, but the Italians are not exactly known for their efficiency and organization.

So basically, I spent an afternoon running up and down Via Zamboni (the main street that the university buildings are on) pulling flyers down off of bulletin boards, walls, and trash bins, all of which try to convince me that I would be so excited to pay 300 euro a month plus utilities to live in this "doppia luminosa" (yes, luminous double) only 10 minutes from the Piazza Maggiore.  After accumulating maybe 10 of these flyers (and after seeing those same 10 flyers still posted up on my walk back to the hotel), I finally got up the courage to call the first one and make an appointment to see it.  Typical exchange was something like this:

"Ciao, sei Stefania?" (Hi, are you Stefania?)

"Si, chi e'?" (Yeah...who's this?)

"Sono Rachel, una ragazza americana.  Posso vedere la tua stanza se e' libera?" (I'm Rachel, an American girl.  Can I see your room if it's unoccupied? -- this sounds way more inappropriate in translation)

"Si si si certo, blah blah blah blah lots of incomprehensible italian blah blah blah alle 6, ok?"

"Ok, so you want me to come at 6?" (in broken Italian)

"No no, blah blah blah blah blah alle 4, va bene?"

"Ok, alle 4?"

"No, blah blah blah 15 blah blah blah 3"

"Wait, are we in military time now?"

And the confusion continues, but somehow a time is always decided on (usually within 2 hours of the call) and somehow you figure out how to get to the apartment, hope you choose the right name on the buzzer, and generally huff it up 5 flights of stairs only to breathlessly explain in Italian to the roommates that you eat too much gelato, ha ha ha, yes un caffe' would be great even though you have heart palpitations from being offered 3 other espressos that day, and is heat cost included in the rent?  Ok, well grazie, and I have some other appointments, but I'm interested, so I'll call...oh, you'll call me?  Oh we call each other, ok...

Honestly, I'm amazed I found a place at all, but its official - as of yesterday, I am homeless no more.  My apartment is absolutely fantastic.  I'm on the top floor of an old building, so we have a huge terrazza with an incredible view of Bologna.  The kitchen is small, but obviously functional.  My room is...wait for it...luminous.  There are these great big windows that look out onto the rooftops of Bologna and onto the trees that line my new street, Via Righi.  However, the most important part of my new house are my roommates.  Giuseppe, the Italian, is in one room, and Mellie, a German girl (but who has lived in Italy for 4 years) is in another.  I currently have no roommate for my double, but I met the two French girls, Anna and Annais, whose room I am taking.  The vibe was perfect when I went in - everyone seemed so relaxed and laid back.  It was way too reminiscent of L'Auberge Espagnole (if you haven't seen this movie, definitely check it out) - a truly eclectic mix of people.  Of course the language of the house is Italian, since Giuseppe doesn't speak anything else and the other girls are fluent.  When I walked in, I had such a good feeling about the place, and I knew that was where I wanted to be.  I'm actually pretty sad that the French girls are moving out - Anna and I have been hanging out, so maybe I'll try and see her in Paris.  

I don't move in till the end of the week, but there you have it - I officially have a house in Bologna.  And if I thought this was difficult now, imagine what it must be like when the students actually come back to Bologna mid September.  I'd probably end up drowning in a sea of annunci and Italians looking for the same luminous room that I am.  Thank god I beat that rush...

Pictures (and more) to come soon enough!  Ciao ciao!