Ciao from Bologna...

Just when I got used to the charming structure of Switzerland, I am thrust into the chaos of Italy.

I've been in Bologna a week now, and I have another week to go. Since my arrival, I have thought many times of writing a little in my blog, to memorialize my time here, but frankly I was too tired. I'm here studying--and have been speaking (and listening to) Italian at least 90% of the time. I know I am prone to hyperbole, but this is absolutely the truth, I swear! Although I'm proud (and a little shocked) that I can actually do this, I'm TOTALLY spent at the end of the day, every day. There is no energy left for blogging. Sometimes, there's no energy for anything at all except crawling into bed.

It's a good fatigue most of the time, though. I have met some nice people--mostly other singers, who are here to study at the Scuola, like me. I am staying in an old folk's home--yes, you read that correctly. Here, they have a much nicer name for it: Casa di Riposo. The Casa Lyda Borelli is a residence that is dedicated to retired artists specifically. In addition, they have a relationship with the Scuola and house young singers who come to study. So, picture about 20 elderly Italian ex-singers, conductors, pianists, and so on...and me.

I exaggerate. Other young people are here too: for example, a group of about 7 opera singers from Kazakhstan (!) who are working through three months of intensive study in Italy. There are people from Brazil, Puerto Rico, Turkey, Japan...it's a wonderful cultural exchange. At breakfast, we speak grammatically-incorrect Italian together over coffee and painfully sweet pastries (the Italians do not believe in savory breakfast). It's a nice little community.

Besides the breakfasts, I am eating well, even if my diet has been a little carbohydrate-heavy. My newfound addiction to coffee continues. I'm getting around better and better, every day, and learning the city's small curvy streets and pedestrian zones. The bus system, while widespread, annoys me; after Basel where every stop is notated in triplicate and verbally announced, the haphazard system here is extremely frustrating. Some stops have a sign, some don't; some buses announce as they go, some don't. The bus schedule is approximate at best. It's all very fluid. Once the bus actually comes, it takes about as long to ride it to the school as it does to walk (30 minutes).

No matter how I get to school, by foot or by bus, trouble finds me anyway. I marvel daily at the shamelessness of the Italian male. As most of you know, I have a list of crazy man stories from all over the world--I seem to attract them everywhere I go. But, this city, my friends, has been a fantasy of ridiculousness.

It started (as was documented on facebook) almost immediately upon my arrival last Sunday, when a man on the street tried to get me to go with him to get a drink. When I ignored him and kept moving, he caressed my behind, I suppose because he figured that was better than nothing! I was so shocked that I just sort of jumped, and then walked (briskly) away as fast as I could. I would like to say that I cursed him out with my newfound Italian language skills, but alas, I did not.

I did, however speak very sharply the next day to a man who followed me for at least 5 minutes, walking just behind me. I could feel that he was there, but he wasn't saying anything. I finally stopped, reeling him in, pretending to look at something in a window. When he worked up the courage and made his move, I turned around with all my accumulated ire, looked him straight in the eye, and said (in Italian, loudly) "I do not want to talk to you. LEAVE ME ALONE!" Ouch. In retrospect, I might have been a touch nicer.

My Italian female friends, however, say that I need to be that nasty all the time, or else these men won't get the hint. I'm just glad I don't live here! I can't imagine having to deal with being accosted on the street every day...

...On second thought, if I lived here, maybe I'd work my way through all the crazy men of Bologna in the first month or so and then they'd leave me alone. Maybe I'd develop a reputation among them: "Leave that tall brown one alone, she's mean!"

Either way, my crazy-man story collection is growing exponentially with every day I spend in Bologna.

On that note, I should stop for the evening...a good night's sleep (and another full day in Bologna tomorrow) awaits me.

Ci vediamo a dopo!