Saturday, April 15, 2017

I've seen these places before...

Or maybe I haven't.  Not this way.

Now that I've been taking Italian language classes since September, I can safely say that it's utterly crazy to move to a place and not take local language lessons.  You may struggle with adopting new sounds, words, grammar and syntax, but you will gain a lot of awareness of local culture - including the occasional admission that the language textbook has included something that "(fill in the name of the people) NEVER say." 

My Italian language teacher is a native Roman.  He has been great to work with, even if I am constantly on the struggle bus.  I think that I may know more words and verb conjugations than either of us believe when I am stammering away in front of him.  I can speak fairly competently in my own language in front of a crowded room of strangers or even colleagues - with zero problems - but when my language teacher looks at me warmly while I try to answer his simple question 'what did you do this past weekend?' I completely UN-remember everything. 

And you know, of course, that because I want to be a good educator, I also want to be a good student. 
At the very least, we can all rest assured that I will continue to be a good student of this place - if not its language.

I've already mentioned that my teacher and I have bonded over the topic of baking, and I've proudly brought pictures of my pizzas made with the 25 year old lievito madre he shared with me.  
Because he knows my discipline (and he previously wanted to formally study art history), he often shares information about exhibitions and other cultural events in the city.

So after class last week, he described a unique Roman tradition related to this holiday weekend.

In observance of Maundy Thursday - and what would have been recognized as the evening of Christ's Last Supper and the foot-washing and also Christ's agony in the garden - all Roman churches, even the ones you can rarely visit, keep their doors open late into the evening. 
Sometimes, the interiors are only lit by candles. 
Sometimes, a special chapel is opened and prayers or short sermons are conducted in front of the blessed sacrament. 
Sometimes, people merely sit and keep a vigil, honoring Christ's request to 'watch one hour with me.'
Sometimes, a particular altarpiece or statue is shrouded. Crosses are draped and covered.
Every church is different.
But it is Roman tradition that you process through the streets, visiting a minimum of 7 (or 14 - one for each Station of the Cross) churches.  
My teacher then said:  I get together with friends every year on this evening.  We have a light meal and some drinks, and then we walk.  We visit some churches. You are welcome to join us.

Anyone who knows me knows that this is the kind of invitation I would never turn down.
So The Spouse and I joined about a baker's dozen of people - of various origins in and outside of this country, but all now living permanently in Rome - at a small enoteca in Trastevere this past Thursday evening.
There are no photos of this part of the night, because being a spectator at that point would have meant that I wasn't trying to immerse myself in getting to know locals. 

(I must insert here my fascination with the Roman manner of arranging for food and drinks to be served to a group.  I have read that 'Romans talk their food to the table,' and it's totally true.  Nothing that arrives is exactly the way the menu portrays it...deals are made even in the basic order exchange between server and customer)

Once we finished our time at the enoteca, we took off for the stroll to a number of churches - almost all of which I have visited at least once, and in some cases, many times before.

But that fact was pretty meaningless this evening.

First, a lone chapel in San Francesco a Ripa.



Then, the impressively glowing Santa Maria del Orto


And then, Santa Cecelia 





I have to include a shot of the roses from the courtyard of this church; when Cecilia's body was exhumed centuries after burial, witnessed reported the scent of roses. They are always blooming here, it seems.
San Benedetto in Piscinula (the first three images show you this modest church in the day time, first)



Saint Agatha's draped altar for the Blessed Sacrament at night, below:



And a shrouded statue in the same church:



St. Bartholomew on the Isola Tiberina (Tiber Island), selectively lit with a few candles as well as its regular lighting.


Our short break by the Tiber.





And on to St. Chrysogono, where those gathered recited the Hail Mary.



And last, but certainly not least, Santa Maria in Trastevere, said by many to be the first church dedicated to Mary.



I have often said that 'museums are my churches and churches are my museums.'

I still hold that to be true, but on this night, the churches I had already visited before (all but St. Chrysogono) turned back into churches.

They became what they were meant to always be:  spaces for the living, in which to think intentionally and act spiritually.  Intimate theaters for the performance of ritual, where the 'props' were re-engaged in the moment, even when (and perhaps especially when) they were intentionally hidden from view.  Contemplative spheres, where what is known is enfolded within mystery.  Dark enclosures, where light is treasured, individually perpetuated, and awarded its original significance.



May your time - this time - with family and friends be similarly about engaging the familiar with the new.  May the spaces you frequent feel different because of the people that inhabit and enliven them.

Buona Pasqua. 

Friday, April 7, 2017

Advice


A small but no less important piece of advice:  don't cross a Roman street like this.  Do it at a crosswalk. Do it for the sake of living the rest of your life. 
So perhaps you're reading this and thinking about sending someone - yourself? your college-aged child? your grandkid? - on a study abroad adventure.  And maybe you're thinking about sending them to Rome or somewhere else in Italy.

I was a lead professor for a number of short-term college trips.  I can issue tons of advice about those.

Brussels, 2014

But I'll save those for a later entry.
Instead, let's talk about a semester or two abroad.
Let's get real about what it means to do a serious stint in a foreign place like Rome.

First, what kinds of schools are there?

Quite a few American ones, actually.  (< this site counts over 50 programs total, so you'll have to go through a few pages to find more of the American ones) Many of them are names you would recognize, and others, less recognizable but no less in quality. You could look into others that are not American in origin, of course, particularly if you wish to have a more immersive language acquisition experience.  But one thing to bear in mind is the transferability of courses.  If it matters that the study abroad courses 'come home' and count for something program-specific (or general education-specific) at the student's home institution, then it is a good idea to look for applicable parallels in course titles, subjects and credit hours. European schools may have some similar courses, but the reality is that their educational structure and management of content areas are both quite different animals. In short, the study abroad student who enrolls at a European institution may struggle to have their credits easily transfer back to the home institution. They may also struggle through courses that are way more lecture-centric and way less interactive, but that's a topic I'll reserve for later post.

For now, let's assume that you'll be seeking out an American program for the study abroad experience.

Some of these colleges and universities have actual campus sites that they either own or rent longterm. Very, very few have dormitory style lodging because that's just not done here in Europe. Indigenous college students mostly live at home with family or in apartments, and same is true for the study abroad candidates. So you have to also consider that this means there are no 'meal plans' at cafeterias. Those - for universities - mostly don't exist here either.
Some of these colleges and universities coordinate classroom space and lodging for students through various sorts of companies, if they do not have an established 'home base' in a very expensive city like this one.  One or more professors from the home campus stay with the students (in the same city, and probably not in the same apartment) as long as the students are present.

What these campus-less institutions are doing is perfectly legitimate; it's just different.

In either case, you can generally expect that the student will lodge in an apartment, and unless you make your own arrangements, they will have roommates.  And if we're talking about Rome, then probably in the student-centered part of town known as Trastevere (or perhaps also Monteverde, nearby), where it's tough to afford to outrightly purchase real estate, and instead many landlords rent things on a temporary basis.  What's also there? Lots of (mostly quite affordable) restaurants and bars.  Plenty of bodegas. Clothing consignment shops. You get the picture: a student-friendly environment.

However, it also bears mentioning that Trastevere does have some pricier gems like this...

A French-trained baker and his own patisserie, which happened to be more or less across the street from some student apartments, like...

Thanksgiving pie(s) at a student apartment in Trastevere. Go ahead and accept that your study abroad student will miss a holiday or two at home.  But they won't go without celebrating that holiday. Group dynamics will keep that from happening.
Many of these colleges and universities offer programs that are mostly affordable, in the sense that the cost is more or less what the cost of the school at home would cost....at least, initially.  If your student ate cheaply, didn't consume a lot of (ahem) other beverages besides water and coffee, never left the city unless it was on a school-sponsored trip, and was an anti-materialistic individual who eschewed souvenirs (and especially hated leather goods), then you're pretty well set.  You'd just have to foot the bill for the basic extras, like roundtrip plane fare, a city transport pass for students, possibly some extra health insurance, any student visa fees, and a passport of course. Other costs are the ones you'd have regardless:  textbooks, university student fees (which are used to cover computer labs and maintenance, etc) and the like.



Of course, if your study abroad student is into acquiring nice things (or you might have, possibly, requested that they find and bring home nice things for you...after all, you sent that person there), then you'll need to work out some kind of a budget.  A number of schools may ballpark a spending money figure for you upon request.  That number may or may not be realistic, depending on what you or the student defines as 'nice.'


In one of the Vatican Museum courtyards.  Dome of St. Peter's Basilica in the background. This is the best, unfettered view of that dome.
Courses - if offered by American institutions - will of course be taught in English.  Italian language will be an expected - and frankly, welcome - component.  And the courses will resemble those that your student would be taking at home.  If you plan this whole thing out - and advisors at home institutions should be prepared to do this - then your student will know how to use the study abroad credits for requirements in their home program.  A little paperwork might be necessary to secure this transition, but it is quite common.

Yes, your student will get sick from the same kinds of bugs he/she experienced at home.  Yes, your student will take the same kinds of risks with friends that he/she took at home (that you didn't know about then, and won't know about now).  Yes, your student will occasionally not contact you while they're at college.  Yes, you can schedule your own visit to where they're studying - preferably during their fall or spring break, or at the tail end of their study abroad experience.  Of course, email and Skype will serve your communication needs. Yes, they'll probably get a little homesick, but probably not nearly as much as you anticipate.  They'll be busy.  Busier than usual.  And unless they get some fantastic phone plan while they're in country, they'll use their phones a lot less (but just make sure that they can use some data for a mapping app - those are super helpful!).  I've also found that business-oriented free wifi here is way more common than it is in the U. S. (although I know that this is improving somewhat).

Student presentation in the Capitoline museum

Inside the mausoleum of Santa Costanza.

They will take classes in some classroom spaces, and they will also spend a lot of time having classes on-site.  A popular class here - offered by probably every American college and university with a program here - is Art and Archaeology of Rome or Art and Architecture of Rome.  Students will visit most of the major and some of the minor sites with their professor. Some classes or whole groups will accompany a professor to other locations accessible to the home city, or they may hop a plane or a train for destinations a little farther away.

Student presentation in the Colosseum
Your 'student' will be safe if they remain in the company of friends when going out. They will be safe if they abide by the college/university policies put in place to keep them safe.  Campus locations will be guarded by security personnel, and even in a pretty safe city like Rome, those locations will be staffed by security around the clock.  Many, if not most, apartment buildings in the city center of Rome have portieri, who handle the responsibilities of opening and closing the front door in the mornings and evenings (this is not true of every building, depending on location...some doors are kept locked and a building occupant must 'buzz' guests in), keeping an eye on traffic through the building, handling mail and working with city waste collection and other service personnel.

The city's water is perfectly potable.  Food is not only safe to eat, it's going to be healthier than a lot of the processed stuff from home.


City taxis are easily identifiable, and no one will be duped into paying too much fare if they know the rules about fares.  Buses are safe (if a little challenging to navigate and perhaps a bit squeezy if you take the 64...word to the wise:  try to never take the 64, which is full of pickpockets lifting wallets and whatnot off the hapless tourists who are traveling through the city and to the Vatican).  Metro stations have remarkably well-armed guards at all times. People quickly learn to travel light here, and how to avoid being pick-pocketed (which is the most reported crime here, I think).

I've gotten to know a few students involved in study abroad programs here, and here's what I would advise:

Get some sleep. And then get some more sleep.  You'll be less sick.

Get to know an outdoor vendor of fruits and vegetables.  Your routine appearance at a particular stand will get you noticed, and then, coached:  on pronunciations of names for things, on what's in season, on how to prepare something...and bonus:  you're eating healthy stuff.

I like to call this Fibonacci Broccoli, but really, it's just Roman broccoli.  More comparable to cauliflower in taste, though. Heavy on the sulfur.  But gorgeous.
And I don't care how much you might love American food. Try the new and unfamiliar stuff.  You'll get back to the overly sugared, overly processed, overly preserved things you remember upon your return...and if anything, your first American meal at home may taste as foreign to you as it does to, well, foreigners.

Sicilian style squid. Really, really good. 
Be bold:  practice the language you're learning with natives.  At least in this country, you will be gently corrected in a conversational way, if you make mistakes.  Regarding language, this is a very forgiving place.

I know that books are these utterly antiquated things in this world of lit screens and buttons to push, but a really good guidebook can open your eyes to the world that is right outside your door.  So maybe you don't have the patience for reading before you step out there.  Carry the book with you, and when you encounter something interesting or unusual on your wanderings, see if you can find out more about that thing in that book.

Enjoy it, but stay close(r) to 'home' a little more frequently.  For some reason, many Americans who are studying abroad here make plans to jet off to as many other European destinations as possible on the weekends. It's a dizzying array of destinations in a 16 week 'stay': London, Dublin, Paris, Amsterdam, Madrid, Munich, Lisbon, Prague, Athens, etc., etc. While it's not my place to say 'don't spend so much money,' it is my opinion that the host city never gets much of a fair shake.  This place - and any other more or less like it - is pretty amazing.  It has a LOT to offer.

In the Jewish ghetto of Rome, on Purim. This was a big festival.
And this isn't just a claim to make for the big host city.  The small town is just as interesting to stay in, wander about and get to know.


I visited some former students in a small Tuscan town in early November.  They'd been studying there since late August.  But that early weekend in November was the first, they admitted, that they'd 'stayed in.'  They had travelled around the country and outside of it too, on weekends.  They gave me a kind of walking tour, but it was mostly about a few touristy highlights like a museum or THE old church, and it was otherwise about places to procure things or a favorite restaurant or bar. A day later, when I declared that I wanted to wander about the tiny town a bit, I was joined by one of those students.  She admitted repeatedly that she didn't know about a variety of other things to see there.


We met some nice townspeople that day, saw a life-size stained glass replica of Leonardo's Last Supper in a small museum, found some really nice altarpiece paintings in a couple of churches, and witnessed a touching funeral parade through the town's narrow medieval streets.



ULTRA safe place to have a campus location:  in a small Tuscan town like this.  It's about 8 or 9pm on an early November night in this shot.
Don't get me wrong:  those students in this Tuscan town had to take a course entitled Learn to Travel, Travel to Learn.  And it's wonderful.  They learn how to navigate a train service site, make bookings, plan sensible itineraries, master enough of the local language to get by and budget wisely.  These are excellent skills, and all coached under the watchful eye of an experienced, English-speaking Italian.

However, it is difficult for the average American college student to navigate the business of being even slightly bored.  And devising (sane, healthy, practical, inexpensive!) ways to deal with that boredom can yield some pretty interesting experiences in a city like Rome.

I sometimes wonder if these jet-setting students tell themselves that they'll eventually get around to learning more about and seeing more of the city in which they're staying, only to run out of time by the end.  This, to me, is a bit of a shame.  To be fair:  I treated my first study abroad experience in college like it might be my one and only.  And then when I had another opportunity, I treated IT like it was my one and only.  I extracted as much as possible out of each experience (much to the current chagrin of my arthritic knees, I suspect).  And I understand that taking advantage of one European country's proximity to so many others is indeed a way of maximizing the handy destinations and resources available.

But what's potentially under your nose or practically in your back yard shouldn't be missed.

As I walked the Janiculum hill one bright, gorgeous Spring day this past week, my colleague expressed curiosity about a church with a magnificent vantage point for seeing Rome below.  Oh, I said, that's San Pietro in Montorio ('St. Peter in the mountain').  Bramante's Tempietto ('little temple') is in a courtyard here.  We were on our way to a contemporary art gallery some distance away, but she asked, 'do you mind if we stop and look?' Of course not, I said.  And we went in.


And there it is.  Bramante's 1501 monument, commissioned by Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, to mark the spot (so designated, at the time) of St. Peter's martyrdom.  A perfect Renaissance-era structure, modeled after an ancient Greek tholos, but with all the rational, ordered, mathematically proportioned elements of the flowering Italian Renaissance.

We just walked in.  No tickets.  No lines.  No people.

And my colleague, who has lived on the outskirts of this city for decades and has worked IN the city for just as long, said:  that's the thing about this place.  There is always something else to find.