I went to Europe and All I Got Was This Double Chin

Milan: Monet, Samurai exhibit, rejection of the 3-meal system in favor of one in which I at no time have free space in my stomach, best pizza of my life, even the graffitti impresses me to the point where I thought the subways's graffitti might have been commissioned. I'm still not entirely convinced it wasn't.

Venice: My brothers and I used to call our bath-tub "Venice." It has always seemed to me an unreal, magical place. Going there didn't change that.

"Venice defies description. Many have tried, from Goethe to Brodsky, but it has to be seen; felt, and wandered through to be believed, and even then you may have trouble thinkging it real. Yet no theme-park creater could ever have come up with this result of 1400 years of extraordinairy history." (Lonely Planet)

Still, there's a whimsical-seeming system at work, like the next city or planet over is the Jetsons-themed one. On the other hand, its age and history is so evident that it's more like it's the rest of the world that's putting on a show. However you want to think of Venice, it's incredible. On 117 islands, with 150 canals, and 410 bridges. You must commute by boat. You must! Just as you must face the beauty and you must feel the sunlit watery winds through your shampooed hairs. I'd recommend going as a couple, if you have the choice. We saw a few Goths and M remarked it must be hard to find something to be angry about in this magical city where people come from all over the world to be in love. I say I'd probably feel dark myself if I were 16, single, and pimply and I couldn't walk two steps out my front door without running into tonsil-hockey in the streets. The whole romance thing gets exploited too; we had countless photos taken of us during our gondola ride. I wanted to throw my email address at the photogaphers and at least get something out of it. So if you come across any on a random web-album, send 'em to me!

Piazza San Marco: besides its stunning magnificence (sometimes I find it difficult to take in the full picture of things like this. Or, like grocery stores, where I might spend 10 min staring between 2 cereal boxes instead of facing the bountiful rest), has a lot of pigeons. Something I didn't get to do was throw breadcrumbs at a snobby-looking lady and enjoy the aftermath. So if any of you go, that's a cheap activity to consider. Personally, I could not part with any crumbs.

Basilica di San Marco: U-B-E-L-I-E-V-A-B-L-E. You can't even look at the floors of advanced geometric marble splendor because it's so hard to tear your eyes from the golden, colorful, meticulous, dazzzling mosaics all around and above, dating back from the 1060's. Neither of us could refrain from saying things like, "My villagers can't even dig a well!" But it was also somehow nice to think of them and their thatched rooves among mango trees, and to remember that that exists as well as this glittering palace, as well as all the things in between. It's nice to witness the spectrum and remember to be amazed at the variety of the people and places of the planet. (I've had a lot of cheese on this vacation; I guess it's coming out here).

...Guggenheim museum, churches, shops, markets, music, and every other building is a landmark... And getting lost on purpose was the best part:

"A city for meanderers, Venice rewards every minute devoted to penetrating its cat's cradle of intertwined lanes." (L. P.)


Rome: We started out a bit rough with a hotel scam (OK, this 19 year old will now drive you to your room. OK, you can get out here, it's that unmarked door covered in graffiti...) But Rome bounced back as it will enchant anyone who's ever enjoyed two words of history.

Colloseum, Palatine, Forums: awesome, gorgeous, go. We were overwhelmed by all the english-speaking tourists so we played a game in which they overheard us describing false attractions. "So the trapeze show starts at 1:00, right..." "I can't beleive they dressed up that monkey like that. It's kind of cruel. But Very impressive how well he's learned to handle that sword!"

Vatican: even more english speakers, mostly wanting us to pay for their tours. So we spent the first 2-3 hours speaking only Pulaar. We pondered how often-- if ever-- this happened at the Vatican. Sistene chapel: Jeez! I was intimidated by my senior thesis in art! Un-freaking-believable. Not overrated. No wonder Michelangelo is my favorite ninja turtle. Don't ignore the paintings everyone quickly walks by on the way to the chapel either, or you'll miss some Dali's, chagal's; and other gems. the other stuff didn't move me too much.

Gladiator School: how amazing that this exists. I really really wanted to meet the passionate gladiator students and teachers, but unfortunately, once we finally found the place, it was empty. And creepy. Voices that didn't answer, wind opening doors, a dog the size of a bear... "Let's split up!" I suggested. You know how I like my horror flicks.

Indian restaurant: this gave me an odd language overload. I was trying to remember my few words of Hindi while hearing Italian, speaking english to M, and still most inclined to speak to other people in French, Pulaar, or even wolof. M got fuzzy feelings of global friendship especially when japanese tourists came in. We decided everyone should eat everyone else's food to stop war. I mean, who wouls ever want to bomb India after eating a delicious samosa (the question mark on this keyboard doesn't work) Bring on the middle-eastern cuisine. (But forgive my village for having awful food).

Bookstore: Rome had the biggest one I saw, with 4 aisles of english books. Bliss! I literally took my pulse and asked M if he thought I had a fever. It was thrilling. I've since treated myself a few times and can now do so at a regular breathing rate.

French Fries: You know how when you go on vacation, for example, to Europe, you have to bypass things like hamburgers that you can get at home (question mark) That's why a Peace Corps vacation is dangerous. There falls nothing in this bypass-category except corn mush. I have yet to see corn-mush on a menu. Therefore, I am rendered unable to bypass anything. I went to Italy and all I got was this double chin. And I love it!

Catacombs, ruins, pasta, paninis, churches, Trevi...

Madrid: hyssen, Placa Mayor, Reina Sophia, oldest restaurant in the world (certified by Guiness Records), Sol, Movies with big buckets of popcorn, La Latina, tapas...
To my high school sweethearts: Tessa is doing fabulously in her glamorous Spanish life. She speaks in a rapid perfect spanish that I sometimes couldn't believe was coming out of her mouth, even if I was staring at her. She knows the coolest restaurants (one is a japanese buffet with a CONVEYER BELT. It went in both directions so we gave up pretending to pay any attention to each other and just said things like, "Spring rolls coming up.. three left.. two.. shoot! Reach over NO, get it before these people, go, go!" This place would never be able to stay in business if I lived in Madrid. Lucky for them, Madrid likes size zeros more than complete ultimate fulfillment. There was a particularly hilarious incident here involving essa's arm in sauce over the belt and me crying from laughing so hard.. but I think you had to be there...) Back to Tess: She teaches english to adults and some adorable kids. I spoke to the latter about monekys and snakes and living here. I may have accidentally called them selfish too, "Yes, we have a school, but no tile floors like this, or decorations, or lights, or books, or... any of this... Anyway, the monkeys..." Tessa has a lovely apartment with a cushy couch, and many other wonderful things I fully enjoyed (fridge, microwave, washing machine, TV...) She dresses fashionably and is basically married to Felipe (I still love that name), who is the male version of Tessa. They make lists of travel destinations like other people make grocery lists. But don't go thinking she takes it for granted. She was very sensative to the things overwhelming me and sometimes quoted bits of THIS BLOG to me. I was touched to know she thought of my experience while living it up in hers.

It was very hard to leave. Tessa clearly needs me as a roommate. Thus, I am tragically torn between the debts of friendship and the debts to society. Now I'm in Kédougou sweating on my own sweat with a throbbing earache. Clearly, I made the wrong choice. Tessa! Bacon! Cheese! Come back to me!

lifescapes from a train (venice---rome)

white sheets drying
perfectly spaced like
well brushed teeth
next to polka dotted dresses
I could wear
the line ends
the little farmhouse fades---
roof top gardens grow
like house hair-- blossoms
braided through tomatoes, basil,
parts of a recipe
I could find---
vineyards in whose
perfectly measured
rows, I'd fit, holding
my lover's hand, even,
and the grapes that would
stain my fingers
I can almost taste---
that man with the mo-ped
looks like a friend
he'd give me rides to the
post office, just
to have my hands
on his waist---
the playground where
a little boy with
my eyes could
step on the sky
seated in swings before
my stretched--out
hands---
the mountain
that reaches the
high clouds, tall
enough to watch over
it all, but it
could fit snugly
in my window---
----------------
if this-- were
my stop---
-

Pizza Corps in Milan

Peace Corps volunteers whould not be allowed to go to fashion capitals like Milan without some sort of makeover intervention in between. There's a reality show idea: fix up the young sloppy PCVs (skinny enough to be on television) so they don't embarass themselves. I volunteer myself. But no, I have my flipflops only and they so far appear to be the only flipflops in country. My best skirt is held together with a safety pin. Don't get me started on M.
No matter, we're used to being stared at and are still living the high life! We might be able to get by without drawing attention to ourselves if we didn't react bizarrely and oooh and ahhh and mundane things. But for 2.5 years, M has only been on a snowy Vienna vacation and in 1 year, I hadn't left Africa. So a few things provoked more impressed reactions from us than they would normal people. These things include but are in no way limited to: grass, flowers, real roads, nice cars, tall buildings, other peoples' clothes, hot water, chairs, airplane food, vending machines, airports, public bathrooms, the perceived cleanliness of rats (do they shampoo them here?), driving ability, prevalence of english signs and speakers, lack of sweat... Then there are things that are actually Awesome, that no one should take for granted: good coffee, cheese, gelato, pizza, chocolate, Monet, the duomo, amazing architecture everywhere, a happy hour in which you get one drink and an all-you-can-eat buffet of deliciousness, and what might be my favorite thing: bookstores!

Coming from Senegal has completely colored the way in which we take in Italy. Sometimes it's silly-- last night I saw a dog out of the corner of my eyes and burst out laughing when I realized I'd assumed it was a warthog. We made kissy noises at the annoying street peddlers, but since many came from Senegal (are we surprised?), they recognized it as a "no" sound. Neither of us has more than 10 words in Italian and are prone to answering in Pulaar or french even though most people speak english. Whenever I wanted to say yes, I'd always say, "Eyo. Oui! I mean SI!" It is nice and strange to be able to hold hands in public. Shorts SHOCK us. I literally started blushing last night when I passed a girl who seemed to be going out in her underwear. I have become a nun.

Speaking of nuns, the cathedral in the duomo made us open-mouth gape for the entire duration of our visit. At first we though of how our villagers would fall over themselves if they ever saw this. We felt depressed on their behalf, thinking about where they are in 2009, while the Italians made these high ornate walls and stained glass glory by the early 1300's, also without electricity or modern technology.

But as I watched the masses file in, light candles, and rub brass emblems, I realized how much I respect villagers' piety. It's easy to be religious in the grand gorgeous cathedral with colored light beaming from the windows, ceilings and carvings and pillars breathtakingly grandiose. The monument of thousands of years of thousands of people's adament belief loom like tactile proof. You don't feel alone and the miraculousness of the structure makes it easy to believe in other miracles.

In my village, kids study faded wooden prayer tablets by the light of a bonfire. They put mats down in the sand and press their foreheads to the dirt. Cows and chickens and babies scream all around in the buzzing heat. They shut it out and one man sings the prayer. Mat and dirt and goats and sun: these are the patrons of their church. They stand and kneel and press their heads to the gorund. This is faith.

(vacation to be continued...)

Tessa, Nachos, and Kittens (three of my favorite things/ beings)

4/17
Tessa's visit was lovely! I hope she agrees. We had a bit of a tough time trying to see "real" Senegal in a week-- without too much discomfort. She could've handled more, but I became oddly nervous that she'd hate Senegal. Senegal has sort of become my embarassing crazy uncle (which I don't really have!) who is really a lovely person once you get to know him.

She understood, of course. Everyone had been making her nervous with Africa horror strories anyway. So we stuck around Dakar and Toubab Diallaw and you can ask her yourself if she felt any horror! (Tess, help me out here. The lizard and cockroach don't count!) We had lots of delicious food, heard some live music, became quickly renowned pastry shop patrons, enjoyed the beach, played lots of charades... we did things I didn't know were possible in Senegal, like ORDER PIZZA in an air-conditioned hotel room with an english movie channel and a mini fridge! WHAT?! I couldn't recognize my awesome life. Even when I opened the door to the pastry/ pizza delivery guy who laughed to see that it was US again.

We really felt like we were living it up. Tessa would convert the price tags out loud to euros because it all seemed so cheap to her. Michele and I, however, moaned with guilt about spendng so much. "We're on vacation!" we yelled to perplexed Tess. Michele and I also forced ourselves to submerge in the freezing water, crazily screaming, "Remember how hot it is in Kedougou!" I think those were the only painful parts of the trip, though.

Highlights include accepting an invitation to ataaya on Goree Island. This surprised Tessa as well as the inviters who are used to tourists ignoring them. But I had to show her the senegalese hospitality that defines the country! It's hard to catch in Dakar, with the ripping off and begging hands thrust in your face. But away from that, we happily sat on a mat as our hosts happily prepared the tea. They cooked and poured it back and forth, the daily dance of the ataaya you can see across the country. One had been to Spain so could shoot the Spanish with Tess, and the rest were appropriately pumped about my Pulaar. I asked a guy to give her a Senegalese name and he was visibly honored. He took the task seriously, and after a few minutes of pondering, setted on "Salimatou." Then he played a song from his phone about loving Salimatou. Now that's crazy uncle Senegal.

We also took a pirogue across Lac Rose. It really was pink, and warm as bathwater. We had a good giggle floating in it then getting doused with a bucket of water once we emerged. We almost joined a dance class, but it was too pricey. Personally, I was also having falshbacks of our botched attempt to join a retired broadway dance class a few years back (think Lucille Ball and ballet). So instead we watched and immitated in secret. Better for us all!

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I'm putting nachos on this blog as an honor to Tessa. Also, because we talked about them on her trip, thus intensifying my already dangerous year-long yearning for them. This inspired the following events. Also, Thomas getting cheese in a carepackage (HINT!). That is the bigger half of the nacho battle right there. Which says something as the rest of the battle involved:
-getting corn (OK, this is not at all in the viscinity of hard)
-pounding it.. haha this is how much I love nachos, people! Luckily I was spared most of the pounding once someone kindly reminded me they have machines for this in Kedougou.
-mix cornmeal with flour, baknig powder, salt, water, and oil
-make a dough
-roll the dough on the table with an empty wine bottle (FYI this is because we don't have a rolling pin; not because I'm weird)
-next you're supposed to bake them in the oven, but our oven didn't really work too well. So we fried them!
-procure avocado, tomato, hot pepper, onion, and garlic from the market, and chicken from someone else's package.
-Love life.

It all took about 5 hours. Oh how I miss 2 minute microwaved nachos! But these were INCREDIBLE. OK, the chips were not that awesome, but after a year of dreaming, these had to be the best nachos I've ever had or will have in my life. I took photos. It was a huge platter-- I licked it clean.

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Kittens:

We got 'em! They're the first I've seen in the village. My dad bought them to kill mice. I'm happy because they won't be my responsibility (especially after I leave. i think it's irresponsible to adopt only to abandon), I loathe mice, and they're so cute! The cuter one will be my new best friend. He comes to visit me every morning to mooch off my oatmeal-and-honey breakfast. All it has to eat is the same corn mush the rest of us eat, if you're wondering why he likes oatmeal. Wolof for "cat" is "mous mous" so I named him "mooch mooch." Today Mooch ate a scorpion carcus off my bedroom floor. My young mom/ older sister killed it (scorpion, not kitten) while I was showing her how to make french fries from the floor.

These are a few of my favorite things....