Italy, Part Two

Italy is brimming with historical beauty, as we mentioned in the last post. It’s a lot to take in. In Florence, after seeing the Duomo, the cobblestone streets, and a public square shadowed by an enormous archway, we had the following exchange:

Jessica: I can’t handle it!
Andrew: I know; I can’t believe how amazing it all is.
Jessica: No, really, I can’t handle it. I think I’m getting some kind of beauty-induced headache. I’m not sure if I can take any more beautiful sights.
Andrew: Well, listen, don’t turn around, but there might sort-of be a castle behind you.

“It’s behind me, isn’t it?”

The enormous archway

Our time in Florence was wonderful. While the Duomo is truly breathtaking, perhaps the city’s finest element is its pastoral side. Where Rome has fountains and towering ancient ruins, Florence has quiet streets and gardened villas on rolling green hillsides. If you walk about a half hour south out of the city, you can reach the a high spot called the Piazzale Michelangiolo. Because Florence sits at the bottom of a river valley, you can ascend the steep hillside to get a sweeping view of the entire city. From there, even the Duomo looks small enough to pick up, although it still towers over the maroon sea of Florence’s rooftops. Beyond the the city itself lies the northern hillside of the valley, dotted with homes and vineyards.

 

Florence has a city marketplace building, the Mercato Centrale, filled with a huge grid of vendor stalls. We’ve been to supermarkets in Italy, but this was something completely different. If you’ve been to Lexington Market in Baltimore, you’ll have some idea what it’s like. There are dozens of sellers with bread, fruit, vegetables, meats, and cheeses. It’s all at really good prices, because every vendor has competition less than ten feet away. In addition to being a cool cultural experience, Italian marketplace shopping has supplied us with excellent lunch ingredients at prices that only instant comparison shopping can provide. At the Piazza Michelangiolo, we brought a picnic of bread, wine, fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, and Roman-style artichokes marinated in sunflower oil and spices, all for much less than even a budget restaurant, and with a gorgeous view to boot.

After Florence, we moved on to the island of Venice. Venice has really quiet streets, since cars aren’t allowed to travel the island. The island is small enough that walking anywhere is generally practical, but for tasks that require rapid transit, the island has an extensive network of canals. Most boats are for private personal use, but we also saw boat taxis, boats carrying construction equipment, a mail-delivery boat, and an ambulance boat.

There’s something captivating about the canals of Venice

There’s a reason why cars aren’t allowed on the island: more than few of the streets in the city are about this wide

We took a day trip to Naples to have a taste of the city’s famous pizza. We had lunch at the famed Starita pizzeria, and it lived up to its reputation: Jessica called it the best pizza she’d ever eaten. The bitter char blisters on the crust blend with the sweet tomato and savory cheese for a flavor that can fairly hold the title of “best pizza ever”.

The best pizza

The most industrious pizza cooks ever

Naples pizza is traditionally eaten with a knife and fork, primarily because it simply not possible to eat it with your hands. The pizza is very soft, and the ingredients would likely slide right off if you tried to eat it by the slice. If knife-and-fork pizza isn’t your style, you can also buy some tasty calzones from street vendors (for a mere one euro each!) that are like fried donuts, filled with meat and cheese.

For our final stop in Italy, we headed back to Rome to visit the Vatican. St. Peter’s Basilica is huge: not only are the ceilings tremendously high, but the hall of the church is full of nested side chapels and prayer rooms. The church is so full of ornate, massive statues that it almost feels a bit like a museum (indeed, some of them have explanatory placards!), but it has an unmistakable holy energy.

Outside St. Peter’s

The altar above the tomb of Saint Peter

So, that’s it for our two weeks in Italy! We’ve arrived safely in the Netherlands, and we’ll have a new post all about that soon.

Love, Pray, Eat

In 2012, we had our honeymoon in Bali, and shortly after that we made the decision to launch this six-month trip with a visit to India followed by a stay in Italy. We joke that we’re doing a “Love, Pray, Eat” tour of Elizabeth Gilbert’s famous destinations, in reverse order. It fits surprisingly well, considering that the “love” part of our travels was our honeymoon, and in India, we spent time in an ashram as well as volunteering.

Now that we’ve made it to Italy, it’s clear why Italy embodies the “eat” part of the trip: the food is simply fantastic. Even living on a backpacking budget, you come across delicious food everywhere you go. Whether you go to a classy ristorante or a hole-in-the-wall place, more likely than not they’ll have something that’s really good, whether it’s prosciutto pizza, marinated artichokes, homemade gelato, creamy cappuccino, or freshly baked bread. (Consider that Andrew never really liked coffee until he had cappuccino in Rome.)

We are enjoying the country’s wealth of visual and cultural marvels as much as the food. Rome is full of beautiful fountains and monuments, both ancient and modern, that remind you of the depth of the Eternal City’s history. Even the ordinary neighborhood streets are gorgeous; the way the morning sun hits the yellow and orange walls is nearly as spectacular as the Colosseum. Just as it’s hard to find a place with middling cuisine, it’s hard to find any part of the city that doesn’t leave you in awe.

We have two stays in Rome, so we can take our time over various sites. We spent two days in the Ancient City, one at the Colosseum and one in the Foro and the Palatino gardens. The Colosseum games were much more spectacular that we had thought. The audioguide pointed out the rectangles in the ruins that used to be elevators under trapdoors, so that gladiators (I almost said Tributes–it’s very Hunger Games) and animals could appear in the arena dramatically. The arena was sometimes flooded to stage miniature sea battles, or trees and wild animals were brought in and the audience could watch a hunt. The funniest moment was the guide explaining, in his dry, British accent, that Romans inspired by a beached whale had built a wooden one. When its mouth opened, 50 bears would come out. Because obviously. What else would you expect?

The remains of the ancient trapdoor system are visible behind us

The most interesting part of the Foro was a frieze in the Arch of Titus showing the plunder of the temple in Jerusalem. The Romans had taken a very distinctive menorah from the holiest part of the temple, and much later, when the Jews were trying to rebuild, the only record they had of what the lost menorah looked like was this frieze. It’s chilling to imagine depending on the faithfulness of your old enemy’s depiction to restore something lost and holy.

We’re in Florence now, enjoying a long weekend before continuing on to Venice. Andrew mentioned the Duomo beforehand, but described it only as a “large, impressive dome,” so Jessica was shocked to see a massive cathedral that’s basically turned inside out. That is, the decorative statues, murals, tiling, etc. are all over the outside of the building, and the Duomo is so large you can’t see all its features at once. When we walked around, new wings and smaller towers unfolded out of nowhere. Andrew will be going to his first Mass service in six weeks there tonight.

Pictures do not do it justice — it’s just not possible to capture the entire building in a single shot.

It’s been amazing staying in a place with so much history and beauty, and we couldn’t be more excited for another week of it!

Farewell to India

Tomorrow is our last full day at EVAD. Early on Saturday morning, we fly to Rome. It feels like we’ve been away from home for a long time, but even so, it’s strange and a little sad to think that the first leg of our trip is over.

We took official photos today with the director and students. The new washing machine we bought with our donation money has arrived, and the remaining funds we brought with us will pay for over half the textbooks for the upcoming school year. Many of the director’s other sponsors provide gifts of 5,000 or 10,000 rupees at a time. You can imagine how grateful he was to hear that we had 35,000 rupees from the church to buy schoolbooks — even after the washing machine was paid for! We won’t be here long enough to see the books arrive, but we got to talk with the publisher to confirm that’s where our funds will go, and the director’s promised to send us pictures of the students later in the spring, when they start the new session (they are in the thick of exam season now).

The two of us with the EVAD director and their new washing machine

I have to admit part of me is relieved to leave India. From the moment we arrived, we’ve faced challenges that forced us to reconsider everything we take for granted at home. I want Andrew to be able to go a week without stomach trouble. I’m craving fresh fruit and vegetables, and meat. We’re looking forward to setting our own schedules, instead of waking up in the mornings wondering if this will be a day we connect with the kids, or have hours of dead time.

But I will miss many things, too, especially the children. I’ve been amazed by their openness. It doesn’t matter to them how much we can communicate, as long as we are willing to play. I’ll miss coloring with them, and the way they run to me to point out small things, like an airplane passing overhead. The way they light up when I toss them the ball makes up for any dull class day.

I’ll also miss the good class days, when we felt like we had something to offer: doing hummingbird impressions, explaining how to carry numbers in addition, trying our best to be clear every time Aadil points at a word and asks “What is meaning?” One of the things that has struck me is how accepting the kids are. I’m used to hearing stories about bullying in school, but what I see here most often is patience, whether kids are deaf, mentally challenged, or have no disability at all.

Even some of the hard parts of India have helped us. I can walk down the street now without jumping every time a motorcycle passes close to me. I don’t know how it would have been possible for Andrew and I to do this trip without each other, but we’ve been able to support each other to get stronger and braver. We can joke about the stressful moments and point out things that the other does well. India’s thrown tests our way, but I believe we’ve passed.

Bowling Day

During our time volunteering at a foreign school, it’s sometimes difficult to know where we fit in. The school was doing fine in a lot of ways before we showed up. There’s a lunch program in place, there is a teacher in every class, and we can see progress in the student’s notebooks. We need to be actively on the lookout for opportunities to help. (It’s a good problem to have.) Some days, it’s obvious where our role is: when the students are reading in English, they regularly ask us for help defining or sounding out words. In math class, the teachers can use us to give additional individual attention to students. Those are the good days.

Other days, it’s not clear how we can help. Sometimes we end up sitting in a classroom for hours with nothing to do at all.

Sometimes, the greatest good we can do is outside of class. We originally signed up to be in an orphanage, after all, rather than a school. Our strengths are more in line with playing the role of fun, caring older sister or brother than a teacher. One of our favorite mornings this month happened a few days ago, when we brought out ten empty water bottles along with the soccer balls.

Andrew had the idea to try bowling with the kids. It’s an easy game to teach and the kids could easily set up a game when we’re gone. As far as we can tell, they don’t have toys or regular recess-style play periods. The kids are left to their own devices outside of class hours, and often that seems to translate into them hanging out chatting in an empty classroom, or asking us to come out and play.

They got the concept immediately, and they LOVED the novelty of the game. And as the play went on, we realized the intangible things we could “teach” by example.

Things like taking turns, when Jessica motioned for the kids to form a line so the same assertive few didn’t monopolize the ball.

Things like losing graciously, and cheering each other on. One boy, Lucky, loves attention and wants to excel at any game. When he kicked the ball hard, though, it bounced up over the water bottle “pins” and didn’t hit any. We sympathized with his frustration, holding our fingers apart to show him, “you were this close.” After a few turns, we saw him making the same gesture instead of clenching fists. We all cheered and high-fived each other when we knocked bottles over.

We could model the difference between cheating and allowing a lenient handicap. Amit, one of the oldest and tallest, isn’t allowed to scoot the ball closer to the pins in hopes of a better shot. Sunny, who is 5, can take a few steps forward so he has a fair chance.

Over the course of an hour and a half, we saw so many great examples of compromise and gracious play. When Lucky’s sister Angeli joined the game late, he negotiated with Amit to let her take two turns instead of one so she could get the hang of the game. Armaan, one of the younger kids, preferred the role of ball-return kid. He took himself out of turn rotation in favor of being the one to throw the ball back to the next kid in line. When one of us had spent too long picking up fallen bottles, kids traded spots with us so we would have a turn to play.

We’ve learned in the last four weeks that the balance between great and difficult is always shifting. If we say we love the country, the next minute we’re splashed with muddy water by a careless driver. If we say we just want to go home, in an hour an old woman will praise the red stripe of sindur Jessica wears on her forehead (a sign of a married woman), beaming her welcome to us. This makeshift bowling game was one of those moments, a flawless morning that showed us more clearly than ever what our best talents are here. It’s hard to imagine that we leave in less than a week.

Strike!