Cinque Terre

Friday was a rough day, getting all my things stolen was one of the worst feelings ever, but I really didn't want to sulk in that feeling. Emma, who I was planning on going to Cinque Terre with offered to go a different weekend, and most people I’ve talked with assured me that I should take the trip, just later. Honestly though, the thought of just staying in Bracciano and having to think about what happened, when I can't actually do anything...is not a good one. I was dying to talk to my Mom because I knew exactly what advice she would give me and I just wanted that reassurance. So, I asked:

Me: Mom, should I still go to Cinque Terre?

Mom: Yes! Are you kidding me? Go!

Decision made. Emma was a doll—not only did she spot me the cash to pay for the train tickets; she brought me a new bag, since I'd lost mine, with all the girl essentials. Honestly, I've known her just a short time, but I already love that girl! How could I not? She's such a sweetheart. And we are both, randomly, really great friends with KJ Green (shout out! Te Voglio bene!). On Friday night, I went into Rome to listen to a man from the Olympic board speak; I saw Brother and Sister Krueger—the senior missionary couple in charge of the Rome GANS (YSA). I went over to sit by Sister Krueger because I was in serious need of a 'mom hug.' Afterwards I asked for a blessing from Brother Krueger and was able to talk to them both for 30 minutes or so. After that, everything just felt good. I truly do think that things happen for a reason, and while that was a tough trial to go through, I know I'll be better for it in the long run.

Emma and I decided to stay at our friends, Fausto and Daniele's, apartment in Rome on Friday night because it was closer to the main train station. We wanted to get a good night sleep, which didn't happen because the bus we wanted to never came. We decided to try our luck with hitch hiking (haha) and got a taker. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, when the man saw that we were with two other guys, he revoked is offer (creeper!). We took a taxi instead.

Emma and I couldn't find Fausto and Daniele’s apartment or get a hold of them, so found ourselves knocking on a couple random doors. We felt bad because it was past midnight and realized, after a pant-less man opened his door, that we would rather wait on the stairs of the building and eat pasta until Fausto arrived home and could just direct us to his apartment. We got up Saturday morning, after 3 hours of sleep, took a wrong turn to Termini and ended up running to the train station and barely catching our train. That didn't matter though, we were on our way and happy! If you haven't heard of Cinque Terre, its 5 tiny and beautiful cities on the coast of Italy—an absolute must see if you ever make it to Italy. My Uncle Dan—who is well traveled—recently got a hold of me just to make sure I didn't miss the opportunity to visit Cinque Terre; I couldn’t ignore his advice! Emma and I took a train to La Spezzia Centrale and then hopped on one to the last city: Monterosso. We had been going through a long serious of tunnels when suddenly there was a break, where everyone caught our first, split second glimpse of the view. At that moment, as if on cue, everyone let out a gasp! It was more beautiful than anything I've ever seen in real life and gone before I could take it in. The perfect preview to a magical trip!

Monterosso

We decided to visit the furthest city first. We got off the train, saw a beach, but wanted to explore the city first. Somehow, we made our way up to a little residential area—which was beautiful—before heading down to enjoy the beach and seeing Ken Barbie (seriously, we saw his illegitimately twin who was way pretty than either of us. We steered clear ;). Emma and I walked around the rest of the city, Emma bought a dress and we decided to go to the next town and come back to Monterosso later for a big concert/party/bonfire. I feel like I can't do the trip justice in words, so get ready for lots of pictures!

Vernazza

Getting to Vernazza ended up being quite the challenge; somehow we got on a train that took us all the way back to La Spezzia Centrale—don't ask me how—but eventually made or way there. The first thing we did was eat: pasta and pizza with Pesto—which was actually invented in Cinque Terre. Oh my word, I wish I’d taken a picture, but I was too caught up in the enjoyment of the moment and it didn't cross my mind. We got to sit outside and eat, overlooking the beautiful ocean, surrounded by beautiful buildings. Cinque Terre really is like nothing I've ever seen before; when I say the towns are tiny, I'm not exaggerating—they're beautifully preserved and picturesque. They seem to be somewhat unaffected by the fast pace of the modern world. Going to Cinque Terre isn't about seeing as many monuments or museums as possible, it's about slowing life down, enjoying the moment, eating great food, and taking pleasure in the simplicity and beauty of life. There was a beautiful cemetery at the top of town; you have to make quite the hike to get there, but it’s worth it—a few of the grave markers said "Benvenuto" which means 'Welcome,' I thought there was just something very poetic about it.

benvenuto = welcome; quite poetic

Back to Monterosso

So, Emma and I were quite tired, but still wanted to take a hike that day (you can hike between all the cities!). We wanted to take a power nap or something on some big rocks, but ended up hoping to find a spot on the trail to rest instead—which we didn't, not exactly. The hike wasn't bad, but we may or may not have been wearing swim suits, dresses and sandals (you really can't judge me on this one though, my shoes were in my bag that had been stolen), which made it a bit more difficult. There were so many different kinds of stair cases, trails and little narrow passages—it took quite some time, but I can't even being to describe how beautiful everything was! We got to watch the sun go down, explore a house that had been destroyed by recent flooding, and even took a 'bath' in the 'Fountain of Youth' which was under a beautiful little waterfall. You honestly cannot blink your eyes in Cinque Terre without opening them to something new and beautiful.

By the time we got back to Monterosso, it was pretty late and a concert—with African singers/performers and a huge bonfire—had already started. We were sweaty as heck and not looking our cutest, but apparently good enough to catch the attention of a couple South African travelers (fyi: they were white), who offered us a place to stay about 30 seconds after meeting them. Now, we actually hadn't found a hostel or hotel yet (we liked the idea of ambiguity and sleeping on the beach was already a bucket list item). They guys seemed nice and we planned to meet up later, but—not wanting to make any other dumb decisions—we bailed on them. This, in retrospect, probably wasn’t the smartest idea considering the town is tiny! They saw us a bit later and John Luke started apologizing, while Davide (Davey) stood back looking grumpy.

John Luke: I am so sorry we didn't find you, we were waiting there for a long time—I don't know how we didn't see you...

Me: (playing it off, as if we hadn't actually ditched them purposefully) Don't even worry about it! You are fine!

After hanging around the city, meeting new people (including a BYU alumni—he was wearing a BYU shirt, so I had to go introduce myself:), talking to some old women and several groups of people our age, we still didn't have a place to stay. We probably should have looked into a hostel earlier, but because we hadn’t and because we didn't want to stay with the random South African guys we'd just met, we did the next most obvious thing: we found a place by the bonfire, laid ourselves in the sand, and tried to get some shut-eye. Easier said than done thanks to some annoying drunk college kids… John Luke ended up bringing us down some blankets and staying the night with us on the beach—it was pretty tender, and definitely one of my top memories from the trip. He told us all about South Africa, how he had been 2 meters from a huge elephant the week prior, and about all of the wild animals he'd seen. That is my next travel destination! Anyhow, it got colder as the night went on, so when we finally woke up, we were basically in the ash of the bonfire (which had gone down during the night in attempt to get warmer). We only slept a couple hours, and goodness knows we must have been a sight to see: two girls, still wearing our dresses, covered in a mix of dirt (from the hike), sand and ash. It was barely past 5 when we woke up, so we got an early start to our day. It was incredible to explore at that time, when the only other people out were the local fisherman. We caught a train and spent the rest of the day exploring the last three villages.

A house destroyed by a recent flood

So I decided to climb up and explore :)

the African Concert

After 2 hours of sleep on the beach by the bonfire

Bucket list check! Slept on the beach, and in Cinque Terre nonetheless!

Corniglia

We somehow avoided the 365 stairs by walking up a windy road; we saw 3 Porsches on the way—I’d definitely say that most people living in Cinque Terre aren't doing too bad financially. I honestly think I might be able to stay there forever—it's a slower way of life, but it is unlike anything I've ever seen or experienced (I feel like I say things like this a lot, but it’s always true). If you get a chance to go, don't hesitate.

Manarola

Emma and I got breakfast and then, because it was Sunday, found a little cathedral and spent about an hour there having our own little spiritual uplift. Honestly, when my bag was stolen, I felt sick—I always expect the best of people and having that happen made me lose some faith in that belief, but now, it's been restored! There have been so many good and kind people that have been there for me—family, friends, new acquaintances and even strangers. Like my blessing said, I have truly been able to find the divine and extraordinary in the negative and the ordinary.

Tiomaggiore

Emma and I were dead tired by the time we made it to the 5th and final town, but that didn't stop us. We spent our time there exploring the city, lying out on enormous rocks overlooking the ocean, talking to random people and eating gelato.

It was sad to say goodbye to Cinque Terre, that may be why we decided to double the time of our return trip… We somehow purchased train tickets to Roma Aurelia. If any of you were wondering, ROMA AURELIA is not VALLE AURELIA—which is the where I needed to be to catch the train back to Bracciano. We found ourselves waiting hours for a train that actually doesn't come on Sunday, caught a random bus instead, and then another to get us to a metro station. I ran to catch my train, which was leaving in 6 minutes. It just so happened that 3 of the 4 escalators in the train station were not working, so I legitimately sprinted from the metro, up 3 HUGE flights of stairs, as I tried to remind myself that I competed at state in high school track. I spent 6 of my past 64 hours sleeping, but couldn't be happier. La Dolce Vita!

Worst Day

I feel so dumb right now; I don't even know how to articulate it. Unfortunately I have a feeling that once you read the rest of this post, you will be shaking your head at me in disbelief. I don't even know why I'm writing now, probably because I can't get a hold of anyone and don't know what else to do. I was planning on going to Cinque Terre tomorrow with my friend Emma, I packed up all my things—passport, documents, money, train tickets (that I bought for her and I, for about 150 Euro), clothes and threw a towel on top because I was going to the beach today with some other friends and planned on taking a train straight from there to Rome, staying the night in Rome, and then getting up bright and early for what surely would have been the best weekend of my trip. I was waiting at the nearby the fire station for Giulia to pick me up when I realized I forgot some papers that I could use for my research while I was away. It was a tug-a-war inside my mind; what to do—return to the house (it was only 5 minutes down a dirt road) or go without the papers. I decided to go down the dirt road, but I didn't want to make Giulia wait. Since I've actually only seen one other person use that road--my neighbor—I decided to slide my bag in some bushes and run home so I wouldn't waste time. WORST DECISION OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. I ran home, grabbed the papers, and ran back—all in about 5 minutes. I passed the spot where my backpack was, realized it, and turned around to grab it. It wasn't there. My word, obviously I should have never let something carrying so many important things—passport, documents, credit card, money, train tickets, my camera, even my diary/field journal and a letter to a friend—out of my sight. I wish a million times that I was capable of going back in time—not making such a dumb mistake, but I can't now...

I ran into the nearby fire station and tried to explain my problem to 6 men who didn't speak any English; one man came to help who spoke some English. So, here I am, stressing, with a lump the size of Texas in my throat, and feeling more dumb than I ever have in my life because what happened was 100% my fault. It wasn't an unlucky thing; I honestly think I would feel better right now had someone robbed me face to face... I jotted a few numbers down before my phone completely died—Diego and Mara's (host family), my bishops, Emma’s, and my friend Guilia—who was on her way to get me. My phone died, the firemen called the police, who came. They also didn't speak English. Now, I am definitely learning Italian and getting better, but trying to explain something like this in Italian was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever done. Diego's dad, bless his heart, came to the station and we drove to the police station to file a report. I just can't believe how things changed so quickly from being so great to so miserable. I have no documents, hardly any money, and the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don't want to talk to anyone because it was such a dumb mistake, and I feel so miserable already that I don't think I could take someone giving me one of those 'are-you-serious?' looks. I wish I could talk to my mom, but although Emma was able to get a hold of her and let her know what happened, my phone is now dead and I can't get to her through Skype. I am in serious need of a 45 minute long hug, but don't even feel like I deserve that right now. :/

I'm trying not to be pessimistic, since the moment it happened, I tried to find a solution and the silver lining. But right now, I'm lost for both... I am so grateful for everyone and their help, but so sick that I did this. Ah, how a split second decision and 5 minutes can change everything so quickly. I dread talking to anyone... I have this complex where I don't cry, but if anyone made me feel worse, by reinforcing how dumb of a mistake I just made was or showed me any sympathy, I think the tears would come. I don't mean to be melodramatic, and writing this out has helped. Guess it's time to put on my big girl panties and stop feeling sorry for myself. I did this, I take responsibility, and I will figure it out. This isn't going to ruin my trip.

Sicily! GANS Conference

Last Tuesday, Diego’s dad drove Diego and I to the airport to catch a plane to a town called Terrasini—which is in Sicily—for a ‘Conferenza di GANS’ which is a huge conference hosted by the LDS church for young single adults. I was dying to take a vacation (from my ‘vacation’), go to Sicily, meet new people, tan by the pool and swim in the ocean. Unfortunately, when we got to the airport, I realized that I had forgotten something very important. Yes, my passport!  I hadn’t even thought to put it in my purse; regardless of my blonde hair and American accent, I think I must be starting to think of myself as Italian because it honestly didn’t cross my mind to grab it. Diego and I had met up with some other people that were going to the conference and right before we checked out luggage, Diego pulled out his documents; that’s when I realized I didn’t have mine. My stomach moved into my throat—this was not happening. My gut instinct was to hope that the people checking me through wouldn’t be too thorough and just let me through with my driver’s license; after all, I wasn’t leaving the country. Diego, however, insisted that we go talk to the front desk. I let him speak with the lady in Italian, while I stood nearby trying to look as innocent as possible in my pastel skirt. She said that my driver’s license might be sufficient, but that we would have to talk to the boss of the airport. Mamma mia! I think that trying my luck through security would be far less stressful than this. To add to my stress, we had to wait at least 15 minutes (which felt like two hours) for him. The giant of a man finally made his way over to talk with us. Diego explained the situation and I smiled; it was a nervous smile and I actually had to make a conscious effort for it to look normal—didn’t want him to think I was a crazy American on happy drugs or anything—Italians already think I smile too often. He gave me a pitiful smile in return, shook his head and told me that I couldn’t go without my passport, I was crushed.  K that was a lie, he actually told me that I could travel with my driver’s license since I was staying in Italy. Phew!

Everything was amazing in Sicily! Not void of awkward moments, but hey, what is life in another country—or life at all—without those? It took me about 2.43 seconds to change into my swim suit (costume did bagnio) and make my way to the pool, which just so happened to overlook the ocean. As I was searching for a spot to sit, I saw a group of guys and girls relaxing with their feet in the pool. Then, there was that awkward moment when I said, “Ciao” and they all looked at me—confused. There was one girl, in particular, whose eyes followed me as I walked a little further, whom, based on the look she was giving me, must have thought I was crazy. Utterly confused, but used to feeling that way, I sat down near them. When I said something in English to Diego, the same girl who had looked at me like I was crazy, lit up and—in about 1.95 seconds—was sitting next to me. ‘Parli Inglese!?’ I told her that I did and she started speaking with me in English. She said she was confused when I said ‘Ciao’ because she didn’t know me. In Italy you say ‘Salve’ or ‘Boun Giorno’ to someone you don’t know, and only use ‘Ciao’ to if you’re speaking with a friend or familiar person—something I’ve known since my first day of Italian class, but always tend to forget. Anyhow, I’m not sure if she had even told me her name before inviting me to come visit her in Tarento; she assured me that I could stay for as long as I wanted and that the beaches were far more beautiful there than in Sicily. I told her that I would love to and am now planning on visiting Gaia (that’s her name) the third week of July! Needless to say, Gaia quickly became my best friend at the conference. She is honestly just one of the coolest people I have ever met. She is smart, outgoing, fun, speaks English really well, helps me with my Italian, and seems to know everyone. Another girl that I got really close with is named Jessica McCollaum; the first time I met her, I started speaking to her in Italian and then asked, ‘Parli inglese?’ She immediately switched from speaking Italian with a perfect accent to English in an American accent; it totally threw me off! Turns out, she is from the States and also attends BYU, but attended high school in Naples and speaks fluent Italian. I may or may not have invited myself over to visit her near Venice, where her family is currently living. So, on top of visiting Gaia in July, I will be visiting Jessica at the end of June. I also have a trip planned to Naples (my friend Daniele lives there) and weekend trips with friends planned for Florence and Cinque Terre. It’s so nice because I can continue to do my research while I travel. I actually interviewed a few people at the conference this past week; sitting by the pool asking people about their love lives—I definitely chose the right field of study (Marriage and Family Therapy). Ah! I just met so many great people; I want to write about them all! There were two sisters at the conference that I absolutely adored named Catia and Antonia Vasilachi—they spoke Italian, Russian and English; such impressive girls! They also happened to be the sweetest things ever. I really hope our paths cross again :)

Gaia and I :)

Gaid, myself, and Jessica

Catia and Antonia:)

I honestly don’t know what my favorite part of the conference was, probably just meeting new people and getting to practice my Italian while in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. A few things that topped my list were.

 The dances—where they played what I like to call ‘anti-grind’ music—no rap, R&B or hip hop to be found. 95% of it was techno, mixed in with some salsa and a random mix from the movie Grease haha loved it, such a blast. The second dance was my favorite though, just because I knew so many people by that point and had zero inhibition.

Rome Group

Cliff jumping—I swear the pictures don’t do it justice; not beauty or height wise. I talked to my mom later that day on the phone and when I told her that I went cliff jumping she said, ‘I should’ve figured.’ I LOVE LOVE LOVE doing anything like that, what’s life without adventure and a few risks? I actually got invited by some friends to go rock climbing on the ALMALFI COAST! Yes please!!

The beach—we stayed at or near the resort for a lot of the conference, but we weren’t about to come all the way to Sicilia and not visit the beach. We hitch hiked in the back of a truck to the bus stop (we weren’t actually trying, some guy just stopped and offered—and who were we to turn down such hospitality?).

Hitch hiking to the bus stop :)

   Once we got to the ocean, we played games in the water, swam around and got tan. While skipping rocks, I decided to search for some pretty ones to take home—it seriously reminded me of being a kid again, and I loved it!

at the beach in Sicily

You're welcome for not taking a picture of the front.
One day at the beach in Sicily and I've seen more speedos than in my entire life

      After we had gotten our fair share of sun, we decided that we should probably rejuvenate ourselves with Gelato. A big group of us walked a mile or two to a specific gelato shop that someone had recommended, but when we got there, Diego and I decided that one shop that we had seen earlier looked better. We backtracked a mile or so, got our gelato, realized the bus was supposed to get to the stop in 10 minutes, and tried to enjoy our ice cream while we ran back to the stop. Luckily, we made before the bus did.

Waiting for the bus to take us back to the resort

    Unfortunately, after 10 minutes of waiting for the bus (they’re always late here), we saw it coming towards us. We stood up. Then watched as the bus driver shook his head and pointer finger in unison, without even touching the breaks! Apparently, it wasn’t worth his time to stop because he couldn’t fit our whole group in the bus. Are. You. Kidding Me!? The next bus wouldn’t come for two hours, so we could either wait for it or walk back. We chose to walk back, for two reasons: 1) The Italian national soccer team was playing and everyone wanted to watch the game and 2) We had just watched 17 Miracles, a movie about pioneers (watch it!) that morning, and couldn’t really justify our laziness when they had trekked for months. We felt like it was a slightly ironic situation, but the hour and a half walk back to our resort ended up being one of my favorite parts of the entire trip—go figure.

     OUR TREK:

injury...

even death

grave stones along the way

but in the end, one of my favorite parts of the trip :)

   Oh, and just in case anyone was wondering, there were some beautiful boys at the conference. I met one from Sicily who now wants to come to Rome to date me (haha) I wanted to clarify, “American date?” because in Italy, one date usually signifies some commitment; it’s common for people to go on one date, and be together and exclusive from that point on. Aye ay ay (I seriously cannot sound things out in English anymore, so if ‘aye ay ay' looks like gibberish, just go with it). There were also these two beautiful boys whom I was convinced were gay because they dressed perfectly and seemed to have no interest in girls. I randomly went down to the pool at one point and they were the only ones there, so we started talking. Definitely NOT gay, but from Spain, hardly spoke Italian, and were therefore a bit inhibited. I don’t have a picture on my camera, but if I get one I will definitely post it (it’s worth it). One of them, who I refer to as ‘Muscles’ told me I needed to come to Spain to learn Spanish. Well, if you’ll teach me, sign me up!

So, I have no complaints. I feel blessed to be here, to be having these wonderful experiences and meeting such amazing people! I love how similar and how different people are. We speak different languages, eat different foods, have different views of the world, but are still able to connect at such a deep and real level. I love that I can conduct research on Italian dating and courtship, find so many commonalities between interviews, and still uncover something that is unique to each person. I am sad that I only have 6 more weeks in Italy, but so excited that I chose a field of study where I get to meet, learn about and help people with their lives. Life is short, and I want to take advantage of every moment—that’s what I’m doing now and that is what I will continually strive to do forever and eternity. Life is too short to waste even a day, so I hope you’re taking advantage of your time like I am trying to take advantage of mine.

;)