Calcio & Crepes

Coming to a country where you don't have the language down means that you have to have a good sense of humor; though if I'd known any Italian swear words, I may have used them yesterday. I was trying to purchase a bus ticket to a nearby town, La Dispole (it's beautiful! gorgeous ocean and so much going on—it's also the town where I go to church). After telling the cashier what I wanted, I put my 5 Euro-bill down on the counter. She didn't take it. I reconfirmed to her where I wanted to go and she started yelling! I guess I should note that most Italians speak loudly and passionately in everyday conversation, but I swear this was more than the usual. The louder her voice got, the faster she spoke, and the less I understood. Apparently I had put her in some sort of a frenzy because I was trying to pay with cash instead of coin. Really? Then, I got on my bus—slightly annoyed—decided to write my friend Andrea (who is in Chile on her mission) a letter, zoned off slightly, and made a mess of the letter because the bus driver decided to follow 6” behind the car ahead and was constantly slamming on the brakes. At one point, I looked up from writing and realized the bus had passed my stop! Turns out you have to pull a cord-thing (this is technical terms, obviously) to get off—who'd have known…? I jumped up, tried to ask the bus driver a question—which he didn't understand, and he tried to answer—which I didn't understand. After a minute of a jumbled attempt at communication, I told him I'd just get off where we were. I figured that it was better to end up in the right town, even if I was quite a ways from where I intended. An old lady—bless her heart—got off the bus with me; honestly, I think the only reason she got off was to help me. Unfortunately, it didn't up being that helpful of an exchange (not due to her lack of effort); she was trying to give me directions, which I thought was interesting because she didn't actually know where I wanted to go…but I listened politely. I understood quite a bit of the words she was saying, but mainly heard 'destra, sinistra and dritto' (right, left, straight). I took pride in my understanding for about .039 seconds until I realized that the only thing I was taking in were her words, not her meaning—which is an obvious problem... After letting her finish, I thanked her and told her I would call a friend to come get me. Then she asked me if I spoke 'ingles.' Consumed by a fleeting feeling of relief, I told her I did. She waved her hand in front of her face, shrugged her shoulders, and told me that she didn't. Fabulous. My friend Marcos, bless his heart too, came and found me (luckily I made it to the center of town, so I knew where I was, just not where anything else was). When he got there, I apologized in advance for speaking so quickly and spent three minutes venting in English (he understands a lot—from translating song lyrics for the past three years! But if I speak too quickly, it doesn't make sense to him. I know the feeling). He listened politely, and then suggested we switch to Italian so I could practice. It's funny because sometimes it's too easy to speak English here because there are so many people that know it; then I find myself in situations like yesterday and remember why it's so important to keep up with my Italian.

Worst organized picture...ever.
Ethnicity from left to right: American, Italian, Uruguayan, American, American, Peruvian, Romanian 

 On Tuesday there was a huge soccer (calcio) game at the Olympic Stadium in Rome!! it was called Partita del Cuore, which basically means Heart Game. It was a kind of charity/fundraiser game where Italian celebrities play against each other. It sounded pretty legit and I figured that, even if it wasn't a 'good game,' it'd be fun to go out with everyone and be in Rome's Olympic stadium. No doubt it was fun, but I'm telling you, it was actually a really intense/exciting game. I'm trying to decide whether I thought this because I don't ever watch soccer and don't know skill when I see it (probably somewhat true), but Eduardo told me that everyone in Italy grows up playing soccer, so—while not professional status—the celebrities that played actually knew what they were doing. I think my favorite part of the game may have actually been the crowd though; Italians are known for their passionate ways, and they didn't let me down. You could feel energy in the stadium. I did have to laugh, however, because it was not the soccer itself that got the fans most excited. No no no no, it was the 5 woman in short, tight, dresses and baseball caps. When they walked along the track, everyone got to their feet and the men looked like they were going to explode or faint from excitement. Knowing that the women must be really famous Italians, I excitedly asked who they were. Answer: women in short, tight, dresses and baseball caps. Seriously though. From the crowd’s reaction, I would have thought they were a famous singing group or maybe women from Italy's national soccer team, but alas, they were just random women. I think that is insight in itself into the minds of Italian men.

Before the game, Eduardo and I walked around Rome in the pouring rain. It's funny because it was amazing and miserable all at once. Amazing because it was Rome, and miserable because it was FREEZING and the streets were practically flooding. We talked about how it would definitely be one of those memories that is great in retrospect (spending a day in Rome on a rainy day—kind of has a ring to it), so that we should probably just ignore the cold and enjoy the moment. I'm glad we did. :)

After the game, at 11pm—in true Italian style—we went to grab dinner and a local panini and crepe shop. Being the difficult American that I am, I wasn't satisfied with anything on the menu. Ham is to Italians what chicken is to Americans, and I just wanted chicken. Diego spotted the only chicken item out on the menu, which was a panino. I wanted a crepe. I asked them if they could just put all the panini items in a crepe for me; I thought it was an easy enough request, but apparently substitutions are not the norm here (the customer is not always right in Italy); luckily the workers were nice about it and gave me my specialty crepe with a side of ma-che-sei-mato (but are you crazy) looks. Totally worth the extra effort, it was DELICIOUS! I really can't believe how quickly time passes here; all I know is that I'm ready for another weekend in Rome!

Diego and I eating our crepe and panino after the soccer game.
side note: that was my hair after spending all day in the rain. Keep the judgments to a low ;)

I really can't believe how quickly time passes here, all I know is that I'm ready for another weekend in Rome!