This blog post and the previous eight are from my time in Italy, the fall semester of my junior year in high school. They are all posted on the same day because I transferred them from a different site so don’t be thinking I’m fabricating an entire semester in one evening. Also please accept the fact that my junior year self made some terrible jokes in his day. Please stay tuned to this excellent website, as I embark on another adventure this August.
Note: my gap year self will also make some terrible jokes, but hopefully not as horrific.
My nearly completed blog was just just erased from my computer so I am having to rewrite the whole thing. I am very angry about this so picture steam coming from my ears and my ferocious fingers as this is being typed. I know its my own fault for not saving it, but it makes me feel better to think that it was my old and very forgetful computer’s fault.
Anyway, as I had said the first time, this is probably my penultimate blog. Unless of course I get lazy and it becomes my ultimate. Let’s all hope that doesn’t happen.
I’m nearing the end of my blogging career because my exchange student career is drawing to a close. It has just recently hit me what a bummer this is. My entire web of friendships will have a big hole torn right in the middle when I, the spider, am flown back to the U. S. of A. Kelton the spider will happily nestle (if that’s what spiders do?) back in his home web. Still he will miss everything he’d spun back in Italy.
Moving on. What have I been up to lately? Let me tell ya.
Italians take the holidays very seriously; they don’t mess around with Christmas. The whole thing is centered around food. Truthfully the entirety of Italian life is centered around food. Whether it is the preparation, the consumption or the digestion it is awarded the upmost importance. This is because Italians use food as a way to express their love. In America we might give gifts, hugs, or freedom. It Italy they give food. Hearing this one would probably think – “Are they all fat?” No. The food they eat is all healthy and organic and whatever other words you can find written on the walls of Whole Foods.
This doesn’t mean its gross though. Or expensive. Because in Italy buying local is actually cheaper than buying food made in a factory hallway across the country. Somehow us Americans got that flipped. And its not gross because they’ve been making the same delicious food the same way for thousands of years. They know exactly how long to cook pasta, and exactly how long to age ham and cheese. They got it down pat.
I just realized the those past two paragraphs did nothing to answer what have I been up to? Hopefully I won’t get sidetracked in this next one.
I have celebrating the holidays the Italian way. Can you guess how that is done? That’s right folks, by eating. Each celebratory meal lasts three to four hours and consists of seemingly infinite courses. Just when you think you can’t possibly muscle down another bite, grandma somehow coaxes an entire plate down the hatch.
On a completely different train of thought: School. I want to give you a bit of an idea of what it looks like and give a bit of a “feel” for it. Luckily, Italians love to take pictures so I have a nearly unlimited supply of pictures with my friends. So scroll your little heart away and enjoy.
Note: You have probably noticed I appear to only own one or two sweatshirts. This is sadly kinda accurate. But I would also like to point out that many of these photos were taken on the same day (the Christmas sweater day) and that you are see an unrepresentative sample.
I want to apologize but today I just don’t have a poem in my soul wanting to jump out my fingers. So for you die hard fans of multi-media poetry, read some of my previous blogs. I mean who doesn’t love a throwback jam?!