Siena, Italy

So, after a long flight, a weekend in the Tuscan Hills and a few awkward first encounters, I've finally made it to Siena and have started school.

People weren't kidding when they said it was beautiful. I never even thought to question them, because I knew they were right, but there is nothing like experiencing something first hand, with your own two eyes. For example, the common and cheesy phrase "the rolling hills...of the country side" (something like that), made sense to me but never really made much of a difference.
I imagined a hill or two, green grass, and a blue sky. Truly, though, it is nothing like that. There, in the country side, along the roaring highway, is hill upon hill upon hill, each falling and rising into the next, and passing so quickly that it looks as though it all could some trick of the eye.

So yeah, this place is beautiful. My orientation weekend was set about one hour outside of Rome, in an Agrituristica, run by a woman named Suzanne. There we all lounged and learned about the semester to come in a hilltop little villa.

Of course, though, the food was the best of all. Our first night we were fed bruschetta fagioli, pancetta, and grilled melanzana. After about the entire table of 15 starving students stuffed their faces, a plate of pasta in a pomodoro sauce was gracefully placed in front of us. Needless to say, most of us barely made it through the third course, which was a very delicious kabob, consisting of sausage, chicken and more pancetta. And to top it all off, for desert, we had homemade tirmisu.

I describe it all in so much detail, because at this moment, only knowing most of my classmates for 7 hours, I was too shy to pull out a camera and snap away. I also remember this meal the most vivedly, because it was the moment I first realized that I was really going to be eating like.

Fast forward a few days, and I'm now I'm sitting with my new two host sisters, Tiziana, 24, and Rita, 18 (and Salvatino, Rita's 18 year old boyfriend). For dinner that night I was served a chicken cutlet with potatoes, a small salad and prosciutto and mozzerella wrapped up in a filo dough. I didn't quite understand. No wine? No grand presentation?

Yes, at first I was shocked to find that I would be living with two young woman. There were a few different moments of jumping back and forth between loving the idea, and feeling angry at the program for robbing me of an authentic experiance in Italy. There are other people in my group that live in the city, right in the center of everything, with small children to play with. I even became jealous of the people who were living with old widow's who barely speak a word of English. Through the past few days, though, I have found that yes, I live with two young independent women, but I also live with very caring people.

Tiziana, the older sister, gave me a tour around the city and has been able to help me with anything I ask, though she barely speaks any English. Rita's English is a bit better, but that is because she is still going through the Italian equivalent of high school. Between the two of them I find a very close relationship any sisters could have, including myself and my sister Katie. They laugh together a lot, and always try to include me in why they laugh, and have in many ways tried to make me feel at home. Not to mention the big plus side of this: no curfew.

But I doubt I'll be spending many late nights out, buses out to my neighborhood are seldom after 10 pm. (Well, you know, I'm all about finding solutions.)

After starting my first day of a 3-week intensive course, I'm finally learning to settle into a routine in Siena. Though I'm sure more tests will come, for now I'm trying to perfect the bus ride in to the city, and find my way through the Sienese streets to my school.

Having said that, I must get to bed and get ready for my second day of school. And soon, more will come on food, travel and the people of Italy!

The Countdown

The first possible translation for chiachierone (k-yak-yaironay) cicerone (chee-che-ron-ay) is something of an easy breezy persona, 'The Talkative Guide'. On the other hand, the second option for translation is the "Big-Mouthed Smart-Ass" and as I learned a few years ago from my mother's Italian friends, my name alone brings on a terrible secret translation. 'Becca' translates to 'beak', a beak that keeps getting stuck in others' business, or "That snobby little $#%!@ who keeps gossiping about me and my friends." So here I am, four days before I take off for the rest of the year, and I want to make two things perfectly clear. Rebecca, the kind biblical figure will be the perfect name for me, and which ever way you bend my type to fit a tone, I swear, I was never trying to be a smart-ass on purpose (though I can assure you I will be offering heaping plates of sarcasm).

I take off August 25th, and if all goes well, I will be in Rome with my group headed toward Siena on the mid-afternoon of the 26th. The summer has gone quickly, but it always goes quickly, and I've collected everything I could think of from the visa to the nice new sweaters. All that is really left is the mental preparation, and of course, the packing.

So, in accordance with everything else, I have created this blog. My hopes and wishes are to share thoughts with whoever is willing to read, and share it all through one basic theme: food. You could die, right? (Okay, I think I was being a bit of a smart ass there). I will use food as an outlet to observe family, friends, and social settings within Italy, and hopefully, practice my photography.

So, for now, I'll sit here and watch Star Trek The Next Generation with my father (who a few moments ago, did inform me that someone can be called a smart ass for being sarcastic), and dreaming about the days to come.

Greetings and Salutations!

Rebecca, La Chiacchierona