The puzzle pieces fit together slowly

Saturday morning Armida had to work at 8:00, so although I didn't meet my classmates till 8:45, I came to Viterbo an hour early and walked through the back streets, reveling in my newfound ability to navigate them with relative ease. However though I can get from place to place, I am hardly familiar with the streets, and constantly discover new wonderful things. So on Saturday morning I walked through the medieval quarter of Viterbo, down one cobblestone street after another, when I came on this little shop. The cobblestone streets and stone buildings, though beautiful, give a drab and cold feel; this burst of color seemed to fill the whole alley. I literally was staggered by it, not only because of the warmth from it, but because it was a place I already knew.

Before I came to Italy, I had found a picture (taken by the lovely Deirdré Straughan, on her website Beginning with I) that I looked to for encouragement as I got more and more nervous. It was taken in Viterbo, and to me it represented everything I hoped for in this adventure. Look at the picture: it's identical to the shop I found. So when I came on this patch of color it was a breathtaking moment. I thought, I'm here, I've reached the place I've dreamed about. And it's even more than I had hoped for.

And then, to the train station. I met my Sanskrit class there, and Ms. Vicini gave us our tickets. We were off to a museum with an exhibit called "Passagi in India: ieri e oggi," "Journey in India: yesterday and today." And because that isn't cool enough, the museum is in Rome. My first time on this adventure to go to Rome. And now I'm not just a tourist - admittedly I'm still a tourist to Rome, but I'm not a tourist in Italy. I'm here learning the language and the culture, and living the Italian way. I won't deny that that put a certain jaunt in my step among the masses of foreigners clogging the streets.

The museum was an exhibit of paintings made by two explorers in India about 200 years ago, displayed next to photographs of the same places. The paintings were gorgeous, but I loved the photographs - the colors were much richer, and many of the photos much more dramatic. The idea of the exhibit was awesome; the contrast between the photos and paintings was fascinating. Some images were nearly identical, whereas others were barely recognizable as the same place. I particularly liked one pair which depicted a temple in the distance. The painting showed only the temple in a vast sweeping landscape, but the photograph was of a busy street bursting with cars and people and ads. A patch of trees was nearly hidden behind the buildings, and in this patch of trees, barely visible, was the temple. It was a beautiful contrast.

Also in the exhibit were a few statues - I would have liked to see more. I was taken by was one that had been badly defaced, but still retained the movement and the energy. It was of Vishnu and his female counterpart Lakshmi being carried by their "vehicle" which took the form of a person. Vishnu's head had been broken off, but Lakshmi and the vehicle were still whole and beautiful. All three bodies were in movement and seemed to convey a joyous mood. The statue was of brown stone, which emitted a certain warmth that I found particularly attractive.

After the exhibit, we were let loose into Rome for 3 glorious hours. We were to stay within the triangle formed by the museum, the Piazza Tritone, and the Spanish Steps. So I set out with two classmates to explore Rome. In our defense, we had fully intended to stay within the triangle, so when we somehow ended up at Piazza Venezia (WAY outside the triangle), we were rather surprised. However once we had gotten a taste of Rome outside the ordained borders, we were hooked. For lunch we went to a supermarket rather than to a tourist-infested restaurant. We took our purchases (which included a box of chocolate icecream bars, of course) and sat at the base of Trajan's Column to eat. The Column is amazing. It's about 100 feet tall, with a Latin inscription at the base, and carvings all the way up. I think they depict a war, since there were lots of shields and weapons and ships, and a few castles here and there. Sitting at its base and eating my authentic Italian supermarket food... so cool.

The Spanish Steps were crowded as I hadn't believed possible. I loved it. I would have thought I'd hate that many people bumping into one another and pushing and shoving and yelling to one another over all the voices and taking photos, but it was so cool. From every direction came a different language, people posing for photos with the steps in the background, kids playing in the fountain, a giant jumble of everything and everyone. Before coming back to Viterbo on the gorgeous 90-minute train ride, I got to see the Tevere - the Tiber. Dozens of flickering trees line the banks, and the bridges that cross it are all gorgeous. Somehow, although the water is brown and sludgy, the Tiber seems so clean - perhaps just because of the trees, or because the air is clearer away from the fumes in the piazzas, it is beautiful.

Upon returning to Viterbo, I made my first completely-in-Italian phone call, to Armida to ask if I could stay in Viterbo and go to dinner there. Without the benefit of hand gestures, a phone call was a daunting prospect. However it went over remarkably well! I asked and she seemed really happy that I was going out with my friends, and told me to call her when I wanted to be picked up. I understood everything she said, amazingly.

Listening to and speaking in Italian is really strange. I have not yet reached the point where I hear Italian that I actually understand; I can translate a lot of what I hear quickly into English, so I know what's being said to me most of the time, but it takes me a moment. Constructing Italian sentences is just that - building them up. It's like a puzzle, and getting the right tenses and genders is putting the puzzle together correctly, or correctly enough that a picture can be recognized. As with hearing Italian, the words I say don't really mean anything to me - they're just tools by which I can communicate. I can't wait until I no longer need to mentally translate into English what I hear and even what I say in order to understand. But I don't doubt that that's a long way off. I'm content, though, with my current level of mastery. Last night as Armida drove me home, I was able to tell her all about my day, using both the imperfect and perfect tenses. My Italian class studied those tenses all week, so it was really thrilling to be able to put them to use outside of the classroom. Actually, structuring my sentences isn't really the hard part; the biggest challenge I have in communicating is the vocabulary. While a lot is similar to English and I am able to make up a few words here and there, there are so many words I don't know, and I am unable to express many thoughts because of that.

I've spent all afternoon procrastinating on an English paper to write this. Fun though that has been, I rather want to have something to turn in tomorrow in class, so I'll away with me now to get started on it. I hope you're all doing wonderfully, and not too bogged down in schoolwork or jobs.

Much love.