Oh, to be an Italian!

Buon giorno, Mama!

Today was the first day for modules. Carrie Reeves is my co-leader for a trek to Santa Croce, a Gothic Church built in 1294. It contains the tombs of many famous Florentines as well as some amazing art. It is said that St. Francis of Assissi established this historic church.

We had eight students going with us, and in our meeting at the college I asked each of them to select a famous dead person at Santa Croce and prepare a five-minute biography to present at that person's funerary. Some of the notables selected included Galileo, Michaelangelo, Dante (he's actually buried at Ravenna, but has a monument here) Machiavelli, Georgio Vasari, and Charlotte Bonaparte.

We got to the church a few minutes early so I took a group shot of our students on the steps. Then I took a photo of the giant statue of Dante that stands outside the church. As you know, Mama, my cat is named after this famous Italian writer. I think if I post this photo above my Dante's food dish, he might be inspired to do more than eat, sleep, and shed, but I doubt it.

All the students did a fine job and were well prepared, but Courtney Dowdy was nervous when it was her turn to give her presentation on Machiavelli. She did a fine job, but I mention her specifically because there is a funny story about her experiences later in the day. More on that in a bit.

Santa Croce is really cool, Mama. We saw part of a tunic that belonged to St. Francis, there are amazing frescoes on the wall, and most of the stained glass is original. Neat stuff.

After the module, a couple of students and I headed out to the Mercato Centrale (mer cah doh sin trahl ay) the Central Market where one can buy all kinds of fresh foods in a huge covered market. We found it easily and ran into other students. Sarah, Brie and Brittany were on their way out with their purchases and showed us the breads, cheeses and fruits they bought. Brie was particulalry excited about the dred kiwi she bought. They were on their way to have a picnic with all the good food they had just picked out so didn't want to visit with us long.

I ended up buying some dried mango, cashews, and a salami panini. Have I mentioned how good the salami is in Italy? Oh my.... It made for a great light lunch on the go.

Afterwards, I must confess to getting our little group hopelessly lost. I wasn't paying close attention and took a wrong turn past San Lorenzo, the Medici family church. we ended up on the east side of town with no idea where we were. I couldn't locate our street on the map we had. Part of the problem is many of these streets change names every few blocks, so it becomes a challenge to locate yourself on the map.

We stopped at a pharmacy and I told Sara, one of the students with me to make note. She was about to see something she may never see again: a man asking for directions. A friendly, English speaking pharmacist pinted out our location on the map (we were not too far from the hotel actually), and we arrived back home without incident. Still I fear I may have done irreparable damage to the male reputation, at least among Cottey students.

I didn't do any worse than when Charlie Johnson got our CCPA group lost in Jericho Springs trying to find a restaurant one Friday night. Tell Charlie this is a pre-emptive strike so he won't give me so much grief over getting lost in a foreign city where I don't speak the language.

After a short bit of sitting to rest, I took off on a walkabout. Took some neat photos along the Arno River, and ended up climbing to the top of Piazzale (pee ah zahl ay) Michaelangelo. It's a park at the top of one of the highest points in the city and offers great views. I took a lot of photos from up there of Firenze and am looking forward to showing you them.

When I got back to the hotel, I ran into Courtney who told me of her experience with a local Italian vendor. All of the students have been reporting that the Italians flirt openly with them, but Courtney, who is blond, petite and cute, had a guy offer her free stuff from his booth if she would just kiss him. She politely declined, but he followed her for well over a block saying, "Free stuff if you kiss me!"

I'm a little disappointed the Italian women aren't as forward. I think my rugged American good looks must intimidate them. In fact, I'm sure that must be the problem.

That night was our faculty-staff dinner at a place called "Il Latini." Fabulous food, and so much of it, I can't even begin to describe it all. We started with appetizers like prosciutto, salami (hooray!), bread, and olive oil. Then we moved to the soups and pasta. We had a tomato soup called papa pomodoro (pom oh door oh) which was outstandingly delicious. Then we had the meat course, with six diffeerent kinds of meat from which to choose, and then desserts, drinks and espresso. I was so stuffed.

Our waiter, who had been kissing on a couple of the women in our group, took it on himself to kiss every woman in our group as she left. I was near the back of the group and so got to watch all of this transpire. After he had kissed the twelfth or fifteenth woman, I remarked to no one in particular, "I wish I were Italian." Kathy Pivak, an English professor laughed and said, "Oh, Steve!" Then she leaned in so I could kiss her on the cheek. Molto bene! (Very good!) NOW I'm starting to feel Italian! (Trust me, mama, it was all quite innocent; Kathy is married. But it was a very funny moment.)

Well, it's been a long day with too many calories to count. Tomorrow is a day for art as we have reservations for the Uffizi Gallery.

Alla prossima (until next time),
Your loving son,