Helpful Hints from a Study Abroad Veteran

Since this is my last blog, I am going to outline a few things that I think are important in choosing a study abroad program.

First, I would highly suggest that you choose a program that hosts a variety of students from different schools. Although there is definitely value in getting to know people from your own school that you did not know well before, the fact that I studied abroad with four girls with very different backgrounds and interests means there were never any dull moments. And it also means that I’ve learned a huge amount from them, a fact that derives from each one having a different outlook on life. Not only have I gained patience being around those with different beliefs than mine, but I have also learned how important it is to have an open mind about other beliefs, because you never know what kind of wisdoms you might find.

Secondly, know what you want to get out of your study abroad experience when choosing the size and location of your study abroad program. This is obviously a generalization, but from what I’ve experienced, you will have more opportunities to practice your language and will interact with fewer Americans if you study in a smaller program in a smaller city. Siena has been perfect in this sense. When I speak Italian to shopkeepers, they actual respond to me in Italian, and when I hear English-speakers on the streets during low tourist season, I am always surprised. I have then spent the past semester (when not travelling) really getting to know the people in my program, studying, learning the language, and decoding and appreciating Italian culture. However, if you are looking for a more raucous study abroad experience, I would suggest you look into larger programs in cities with a lot of nightlife. Siena does not offer a massively vibrant night-scene, but what it lacks in party atmosphere it gains in culture, safety, and true character.

Finally, I suggest that you take the time you have abroad to learn how to do things you’ve always wanted to do, but never had the time to. For example, this past semester I learned to cook—a great skill to pick up in a country with amazing cuisine. You should then think about what you would like to learn abroad before you apply to your study abroad program, taking these ambitions into account. Although I’m sure you can learn to cook amazing things in a homestay if your host-mom is willing to teach you, I chose to live in an apartment so that I could cook for myself, among other reasons. And my Italian roommates have only been too willing to teach me recipes and to share their own family food traditions. If you’ve always wanted to learn how to draw, find a program that offers a drawing class, and if you’ve always wanted to learn how to ski, look at programs near the Alps. For a lot of people, study abroad is the time to do what you want to do before beginning graduate school, a career or a family, so make the most of it!

As a side note, thanks CET for everything—I had an amazing time.

Goodbbye, CET Siena. I will miss you.

Last night as I was beginning to pack up all of my clothes, I found myself staring at an empty closet and was struck with the reality of leaving for the first time. What an odd realization to know that tomorrow I will be parting from this beautiful place!

I will miss the resilient little clothing lines hanging out of windows, bearing the burden of clothes even while it is raining. I will miss going for runs in the Fortezza during sunset, with its beautiful views of the Duomo. I will miss speaking Italian with the guy who works at Pizzaland who has gotten to experience my accent in all of its various stages. I will miss going to mass in one of the most beautiful Cathedrals in the world. I will miss being late for meetings in the Piazza del Campo. I will miss feeling so compelled to eat the fantastic food in front of me, and eating so much that I actually start crying from being full. I will miss the concerned and disapproving expressions of my Sienese neighbors as I walk around outside with wet hair. I will miss the excitement of reaching home when I disembark a bus in Piazza Gramsci after a trip out of town. I will miss feeling like death is coming when I’m walking up that terrible hill every morning on my way to class. And, I will miss the painful walk downhill from the Conad supermarket when I have a six-pack of large waters to haul. I will miss all of my pigeon friends. I will miss being able to start up a casual conversation about the Francigena road – hey, thanks to the Francigena, Siena experienced its Golden era. The Francigena deserves its due credit.

I am going to miss CET. I will miss all of my wonderful professors and their quirks. I will miss sleeping next to the space heater on my RD’s office floor. I will miss taking all of my classes with five of my best friends in the world. I will miss martedì merenda bar hops and gelato giovedì. I will miss the view of the Lupa fountain from my kitchen window. I will miss the excitement of starting the confused burners on my stove. I will miss having a bidet in my bathroom even though I’m scared to try it. I will miss cooking myself different types of pasta for dinner every single night, and the frequency with which I use a colander and a cheese grater. I will miss all of the feathers that mysteriously make their way from my comforter into my hair and clothes. I will miss reading novels for my Italian Cultural History class while lying on the squishy green sofa in my kitchen. I will miss my heinous bedroom door that my Italian roommates actually had to remove from its hinges to fix. I will miss walking into the kitchen each morning and seeing the faces of people that I have grown to love so dearly.

When I first arrived in this city, I had a difficult time believing that this place would actually be my home for the next four months. Now, on my last day abroad, I am having difficulty believing that I am leaving. The concept of going home is a troublesome one because Siena has become my home, too. CET Siena has been one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. To those of you thinking of applying, know that I have no regrets or complaints about this wonderful program. To my little CET family, know just how much I love and appreciate you all. Well, I am about to go make pancakes for my Italian roommates, but I suppose there is still yet one thing left to say: thank goodness for the Francigena road.

Samantha Leahy - CET Student Correspondent

The Sienese Streets: a unique personality

If you are a prospective study abroad student looking at Italy and you like to party, I must advise you that Siena is probably not the place for you. While there are plenty of places to hang out at night and many people to meet, Siena is a far cry from many American college students’ typical weekend social scene. If you can hold off from sweaty dance parties for just a short four months, Siena has an incredible wealth of entertainment to offer, in the form of random, sometimes mind-boggling surprises.

I think my first indication of this phenomenon must have been dressed in black and white tights with the outfit of what appeared to me to be a medieval minstrel. My roommates and I were doing homework in our kitchen when we heard the sound of drumming approaching. We got to the window just in time to see a band of several Sienese citizens dressed in elaborate uniforms beating drums and waving flags of the Lupa (she-wolf) contrada while filing down the street outside of our apartment. For the next several days, these Lupa representatives marched through the streets of Siena showing pride for their contrada. Over the next couple weeks, different contradas sent their own representatives with their own colorful tights and flags to practice just the same form of contrada pride throughout the city streets of Siena. None of the Sienese people were at all phased by the marching minstrels. The music, the flag waving, and especially the medieval costumes, were both bizarre and beautiful to behold.

If you have read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, you should be familiar with Professor McGonagall’s giant chess set. I think it is safe to assume that we all wish we could have bore witness to the epic battle between Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giant living chess pieces. Well, Harry Potter lovers, you just might be in luck! During one of my very first weeks in Siena, I was walking along Banchi di Sopra and happened upon some Sienese people playing chess with giant pieces in front of the Monte dei Paschi di Siena Gothic revival building. I sat down at the foot of a statue and watched them play while reveling in my confusion and contentedness.

On another occasion, I was on an excursion to buy ricciarelli when I came across some Native American musicians playing native instruments and dancing and singing for an audience of Sienese passersby. I must say, I was incredibly tempted to buy their CD. Another time, I saw someone performing a marionette show with a chicken puppet on Banchi di Sopra. Once, we happened upon some fire-throwers. Sometimes, they do clown therapy by the supermarket (not my favorite). It is impossible to feel bored while walking along the streets of Siena.

Perhaps the most startling of the random incidences occurred while my American and Italian roommates and I were hanging out on the Piazza del Campo one night. We were in the midst of conversing when an elephant appeared in the Piazza. Yes, the Sienese citizens brought a live elephant into a medieval city. How did they fit it through the narrow, highly inclined streets? We will never know. Those that were leading the elephant around walked it around the Campo before they moved out of the Piazza. I suspect that the Oca (goose) contrada brought this elephant in to make fun of the Torre (elephant with a tower on its back) contrada. Regardless of the motives behind this stunt, I can safely assume that I will never accidentally see an elephant in a medieval city again.

My favorite activity in Siena is simply walking through the city streets. It is true that many strange and amusing things occur on these streets, but the streets themselves are beautiful and fascinating in their own right. Now that it is December, garlands, Christmas trees, and giant stars with Christmas lights have put up throughout Siena’s streets. Because of the beauty of these lit stars, the fact that it now gets darker earlier does not phase me. Even after the sun goes down, the city feels warm and cozy under the white lights.

When I return home in a mere couple of weeks, I will miss both the beauty and the personality of Siena’s city streets. And yet, whenever I’m feeling homesick for Siena, I must remind myself that I will never truly be without it: you need only to see those medieval minstrels once to burn their image permanently into your retinas.

Casual Run-ins with Culture

We’ve all suffered through classes that made us think, “How does this information pertain to my life?” That is not the case with the classes at CET. Here’s why:

On a Monday Professor Travis taught us about the Italian system of government and predicted that Italy would have a new government in a very short amount of time. On the following Friday, Sam, Kristina and I travelled to Rome to see the Borghese Gallery—home to the famous Bernini sculpture of Apollo and Daphne—and ran into massive crowds celebrating Berlusconi’s departure as Prime Minister.

Professor Travis also taught us about “amoral familism,” a sociological theory that “backwardness” in a society can be caused by individuals failing to act for the common good, an action rooted in distrust and suspicion of other individuals. Edward C. Banfield, creator of the term “amoral familism,” first came up with this thesis when observing a small, Italian town. Sam, Kristina and I, on the other hand, experienced this Italian suspicion of others at a Siena v. Atalanta (Bergamo) soccer game. Whenever a penalty was called, old men would rise angrily out of their seats and forcefully thrust their hands at the refs, yelling profanities to contest the calls.

Not to be obvious, but Professor Albanese teaches us about Dante. And you basically cannot go anywhere in Italy without running into monuments to Dante, hotels named after Dante, or restaurants claiming to have uncovered the earliest fresco portrait of Dante. He’s just everywhere.

Another direct connection: Professor Petrioli teaches us about Pietro Lorenzetti, then we go to San Francesco church in Siena to see a fresco Lorenzetti created. He teaches us about Jacopo della Quercia, and we finally understand the fountain that we pass by every time we walk into the Piazza del Campo. He then teaches us about Sodoma, a Mannerist painter; Kristina and I make a casual trip to the Uffizi Gallery just to visit; we run into Sodoma’s painting of St. Sebastian; and I decide to write my Sienese Art and Architecture paper about that painting, just because I got to see it. And so on and so forth.

Essentially, studying abroad is awesome because we learn about another culture—Italian culture—but instead of just learning about it in a classroom setting, we get to live it as well. Not to mention that the five of us girls in the CET Siena program get to learn and experience what we learn together, which is the greatest part of all.

The Francigena Road

The Francienga Road (Via Francigena in Italian) is a road of pilgrimage that extends from Spain to Jerusalem. In the middle ages, the Via Francigena was integral in bringing new cultural influences and wealth to Siena, which led to Siena’s growth into a well-established city and cultural center. And of course, because it is so important, the Via Francigena is all our Sienese Art and Architecture teacher can ever talk about. Us CET Siena students, then, have come to loathe and adore the Via Francigena in equal parts, integrating the Via Francigena into conversation as often (or as little) as possible.

In fact, when my roommate Andra was about to meet an Italian boy in the city center, my other roommate Sam and I decided to give her a teasing “talk.” “One,” we said, “you are only allowed to kiss.” “Two,” we said, “you can occasionally hold his hand.” “And three,” we said, “you are, under NO circumstances, allowed to talk about the Francigena Road.” Of course we later amended the last rule to say that Andra is either not allowed to talk about the Francigena Road or is allowed to talk about the Francigena Road, meaning she is either silent about the topic or cannot stop talking about the subject even for a second.

The Francigena Road also came up when Kristina, Marcella and I—the only three people in our Italian language class—were asked to write an in-class, collaborative essay about a “discopub.” Of course, we named the discopub “Via Francigena.” And just as pilgrims stopped into churches along the Via Francigena during the Middle Ages for food and shelter, so was our discopub designed to provide a haven for those wanting to eat and party. We also wrote that Piergacamo, our art history teacher, would be the celebrity at the discopub’s fabulous opening, all the while learning important Italian words like “le pellegrine,” pilgrims, and “un buttafuori,” a bouncer.

Not to make our obsession with the Francigena too absurd, one of the highlights of a bike tour we took through the Tuscan countryside also had to do with the Francigena. First off, the bike tour was cool all on it’s own. We got to bike beneath one of the gates to the city, marked by a traditional Sienese “balzana” crest; we got to bike on roads lined by beautiful, golden rolling hills; and we got to look back from the top of a hill to see the walled-city of Siena, snuggled into the hills at a distance. However, as we approached the top of one of the hills on our bikes, we experienced a particularly spectacular moment: we’d found the Francigena Road. On the left of the dirt road was a modern day sign with a small logo of a pilgrim and, in bold white letters, the words VIA FRANCIGENA. “Take a photo of me hanging off the sign!” my roommate Samanthat exulted, climbing up the sign like a monkey and initiating a whole round of photos we took with this celebrated sign.

We didn’t get to bike all the way from Siena to Jerusalem on the Francigena, unfortunately; but it’s always extraordinary to me that, as silly as we make the Francigena, in Siena, there’s always a good chance that you’ll stumble across history and an older time.

Beautifully unbeautiful: Chiesa San Niccolò, Catania

I stepped inside and felt, at once, a little disappointed. The church was undergoing serious construction, so I could not really walk around. I was reading a sign about San Nicolò’s significance when I was startled by a loud snort. The source of the noise appeared to be an older gentleman dressed in a checkered fleece, despite the heat, who was sitting asleep on a wooden bench nearby. Every so often, he would let a strident snore escape as he sat slumbering on his throne. Eventually, he woke up and noticed us. He said a few introductory words about the church in Italian, walked to the door where two other men stood and then sat behind a desk where he clasped his hands into a ball on its surface and began humming peacefully.

I was struck by the serene manner in which this man carried himself. With his calm movements in mind, the church assumed a new atmosphere for me. It became a beautifully walled city of white marble, whose interior was punctured by shafts of bright light. The construction scaffolding, though quite expansive, only carried the weight of one or two workmen, whose silhouettes were foggy in the dusty light and whose panging hammers were like dripping water on stone. The church had transformed from a decrepit monument into a heavenly sanctuary, draped in an atmosphere of sleepy luminosity. And yet, it is this very luminosity that lends such an environment a certain vibrancy, infusing it with an unquenchable vitality. Despite the church’s incompleteness, all of its various elements – the man, the sound of hammering, the shafts of light – form their own harmonious ecosystem and I, a casual tourist, felt close to God in its presence.

Lo sciopero

A couple of weeks ago, my friends and I decided to take a trip to Cinque Terre for the weekend. We were thrilled to go, both because we had heard such wonderful things about this place, and because it had taken so much effort to plan the trip. After we finally found and put a payment down for a hostel and settled accounts, our Resident Director took us to the ticket office in Piazza Gramsci so we could buy our biglietti for the trip. As she was in the midst of conversing with an employee about expenses, we could see her facial expression become worried. I, who had only taken a couple weeks of Italian at that point, had not the slightest idea about what was going on. When she finished her conversation, she explained to us that there would be a railway strike (uno sciopero) for that Sunday and she didn’t know whether trains would even be running to Siena that day. We were distraught. After much discussion about our options, we finally decided that we would go on our excursion anyway and deal with the strike on Sunday. Worst come to worse, we would take a 5 am train on Monday morning and arrive a half an hour late for class.

The trip to Cinque Terre went smoothly. When we arrived, we, like all of the other English-speaking tourists we encountered, were enchanted with the beautiful coastline, picturesque villages, and clear blue water. We swam, hiked most of the paths between the villages, took a sunset boat ride back to the town we were staying in, and enjoyed some well-earned food. The next morning, a friend and I woke up early to check the strike situation at the train station, and our day full of adventure and confusion began.

To give away the ending, we made it home safe to Siena on Sunday with time to spare. I thought I might provide you with a step-by-step summary of our travels so that you will have some idea of what to do if you should encounter one of the many inevitable strikes that the Italian bus and train systems are so fond of. So. If you should find yourself in Riomaggiore on the Sunday of a strike and need to get to Siena the very same day, just follow these simple instructions and you’re sure to conquer lo sciopero. Here we go:

1. Wake up extremely early in order to scope out your situation. What if the only train running through your station leaves at 6 in the morning? Then you’ll be waiting at the train station all day having no idea that the only train has already left you behind.

2. Since your hostel’s office won’t be open for a couple of hours, leave your room keys in the suspicious wooden box propped up against the outside of the building. There was a cat in a shoebox nearby yesterday. The cat is gone. Where did it go?

3. Arrive at the train station to find other weary Americans studying abroad who have been there since 6, but all of the trains since that time have been cancelled. Learn that if “SOP” appears next to a specific train’s information on the departures board, you’re out of luck. Apparently that means that your train has been cancelled.

4. Wait at the tracks in vain for any train at all to pass by. It is randomly really cold (why, it was so nice yesterday?). Change into pants in public at the tracks (don’t worry, literally no one is there but you because it’s so early). You don’t want to miss the one train that passes through because you’re in the bathroom. Remember that Spongebob episode, “Rock Bottom?” No. You’re determined to have better luck than Spongebob. You’ll change at the platform.

5. As the day progresses, ask other random early-risers stranded in Riomaggiore what their plans are and if there is possibly a way to get back to La Spezia train station if no trains come through. After being hustled by an old lady trying to advertise her hostel to you, figure out that there are taxis, but the taxies charge 50 euros and are all booked for the day. How can it cost 50 euros when your train ride from La Spezia to Riomaggiore on the way to Cinque Terre was only 7 minutes long? Your other options are embarking on a 4-5 hour walk uphill with all of your luggage or hitchhiking.

6. Decide that you’re going to haul up to the top of the town by climbing a formidable hill and discover when you arrive at the tourist center at the top that there is, in fact, negative hope of catching a taxi and pretty much no other options.

7. You see a lady getting into a car. Ask her if there is room for five. Nope, she can only take two to La Spezia, but she was awfully nice to offer the ride at all. It looks like it’s going to rain. Sit aimlessly at the top of the hill until you see a taxi driving away. A taxi? Have the friend in your party who speaks the most fluent Italian chase the taxi up the street and pretty much grovel at the driver for a ride. He is a driver for La Spezia so is technically not working for Riomaggiore, but he is a sympathetic soul and agrees to take you along on his way back. When your friend asks how much it will cost, he hesitates and she takes his moment’s silence to suggest 30 euros. He accepts! Looks like your luck is changing.

8. The second you get into the taxi it begins to rain. During your drive to La Spezia, you begin to understand that if you had decided to walk you would have surely died within moments of your departure. The mountain you are driving up is treacherously steep and curving, and there is legitimately no space on the side of the highway for walking. Plus, even if you had made it you would have definitely died of hypothermia from the rain and wind when you arrived at the station.

9. When you arrive at La Spezia station, send your Italian-speaking friend to the information desk to ask about trains to Siena. When she comes back, you learn that there are no trains to Siena but one to Pisa that leaves in about two minutes. Run to the platform, not bothering to buy the new appropriate tickets or stamp them, and hop on the train and hope for the best.

10. When you get on the train, you immediately realize that it looks like the Hogwarts Express. There is even a man pushing a food trolley. You could swear Harry Potter is in your compartment underneath his invisibility cloak, and you caught a train that will bring you closer to home. What could be better? Your bubble is burst when a man comes through to check tickets. Your friends and you explain that you bought round-trip tickets and didn’t really know you needed new ones, and then the nice man lets you buy your tickets on the train.

11. When you arrive in Pisa, you quickly realize that there is little to no hope of getting to Siena by train and that the last four trains to Florence have been cancelled. You bum around, eat one of those Caffé Zero slushes, and buy marshmallows.

12. Rest in the waiting room that is inexplicably lit by fluorescent pink-purple lights (Why? Why does the room have to be that putrid color?) and try to read for a couple hours while the TV in the corner replays the same commercials over and over. After reading two pages in two hours, you are in the midst of debating with your friends about whether you have time to go to the leaning tower when you notice a departure on the screen for Florence with no “SOP” displayed next to it. It looks like your luck has turned for a second time and you spend the next fifty minutes with your fingers crossed.

13. After a fairly painless train ride, you arrive at Santa Maria Novella station in Florence. You go across the street to see if you can catch the next bus on the Siena Rapida, but the bus is already full and has been having mechanical problems that eventually force all of the passengers to get off. Cool. You buy tickets for the bus that leaves the following hour.

14. You and your friends haul all of your luggage all the way to the Duomo to have a look before you head back. At this point, your feet and back hurt so much (and you are so regretting not showering for two days) that you can barely appreciate the beauty of the Duomo. You decide that next time you visit you’ll be in a better mood and you head back to the bus station to wait for the bus.

15. When you’re finally on the bus, you feel relieved (the end is in sight!), but wish people wouldn’t speak so loudly. You drift off to sleep with a vague sense of exasperation, but when you wake up you find yourself in Piazza Gramsci.

There you have it. Perhaps now you’ll know exactly what to do when you inevitably encounter lo sciopero. My parting advice is this: be creative – at the very least, you’ll have an adventure you won’t forget. From here, all I can do is wish you luck.