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Not Like Me

Not Like Me

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I have been in Rome for a little over three weeks now, and when I started to brainstorm this blog post, I wasn’t quite sure what to write about. So much has happened! I’ve taken a trip with the JFRC; I’ve gone to Florence and Pisa with friends; I’ve seen the pope!!! Rather than listing everything I’ve done, though, I thought I could use this blog post to reflect on my experience so far. During orientation, the JFRC staff members encouraged us to explore Rome and to get lost in Rome. They said this is the best way to find cool things! Among all these reminders, one thing really stuck in my head: Go to a place, and don’t try to change it. Don’t try to make it like you. See what’s different, and let it be different. So while I’m here in Rome this semester, I am challenging myself to embrace this different country, language, and lifestyle. Sometimes it’s scary to be surrounded by so much difference. But in the few weeks I’ve been here, I’ve already noticed how it feels to adventure and let a place be different. And let that different place make you a little different too! So here are a few things I’ve noticed so far…

In Rome, meals take forever. They tell you that before you get here, but you think it’s going to be an exaggeration. During my orientation trip to Agropoli, Italy, we sat at lunch one day for over three hours. And while the food was amazing (we had these hush puppy-type things that were so good), we all got pretty antsy. I have always been a quick eater, so these meals were a little challenging at first. I still get frustrated when, at the end of a meal, you have to ask the waiter for the check or he won’t bring it for what feels like hours. Italians are social creatures! They like slow digestion and good dinner conversations! Long meals are starting to feel more normal to me, and I’m trying my best to enjoy my dinner company and the food I get to eat (and the wine I get to drink).

A goat cheese stuffed tomato on arugula, balsamic, and pesto.

Lasagna from Florence!

So much gelato.

Because I go to school in Chicago and try to travel around the city when I can, I am used to public transportation that is reliable and runs on a strict schedule. In Rome, on the other hand, bus drivers go on strike fairly often. Busses don’t run on any schedule we’ve been able to figure out. I’ve sat on a bus twice now that has broken down on the way home. My friends were stuck behind a bus today that had caught on fire. I’m not saying that I never use the busses here (I actually just bought a monthly bus pass yesterday), but walking has become my new favorite mode of transportation. The city of Rome is very walkable, and it makes me feel better to know I’m walking off some of the calories I’m eating! Similar to the long meals, I have started to become accustomed to the fact that getting somewhere will probably take a while, whether I’m walking there or bussing there. The Italians like to take their time, so I’m trying to be patient and enjoy what’s happening around me at all times!

Us walking around in Florence!

In Rome, people don’t usually have dryers in their homes. We have dryers here at the JFRC, but they don’t work very well. So my roommate and I have been hang-drying our clothes around our room. We like it because we save the 2 euro we would spend on a dry cycle, and we buy gelato instead! It’s a good trade off if you ask me.

More gelato!

Breakfast here is much lighter compared to breakfast in the US. I even heard someone call Italian breakfast “dessert for breakfast.” While I miss pancakes and hash browns and bacon and drip coffee very dearly, I am actually really enjoying the cappuccino and cornetto I have for breakfast every morning. Cornettos are basically croissants that have filling (I always get the Nutella filled ones) and powdered sugar or some kind of glaze on top. And cappuccinos are so foamy and probably better for me than the large coffees I get at home.

One of the best cornettos yet!

The best cappuccino I’ve had so far. This was in Pisa!

All that being said, I’ve found it’s important to find a few things that remind you of home. I still enjoy a good Coca Cola and some peanut M&Ms. And I’m really craving a good cheeseburger (even though I’ve resisted going to an Italian McDonald’s). Finding a balance between new and familiar is important to prevent burnout, and I’m learning how much I can handle as I go! I’m really excited to see where the next few months take me.

Thanks for reading,

Ciao!

Our group in Pisa.

Front row for the Papal Audience!

David’s Home

David’s Home

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Michelangelo’s famous sculpture of David is bigger than you think, trust me. If you’ve never seen it in person, (or even if you have) odds are you’ll be amazed when you find yourself staring up, mouth agape, at the seventeen-foot-tall, marble depiction of the Old Testament’s most famous underdog. You might also be surprised, as I was, to find out that Michelangelo was not the first artist to try transforming that marble slab into something beautiful. In fact, the statue was originally commissioned by the Overseers of the Office of Works of the Duomo, now one of Florence’s most famous churches (pictured below).

In 1464, the church commissioned Augostino di Duccio, a student of Donatello, to construct a David for the project. He failed to create much more than a rough outline of the legs. Ten years later, another one of Donatello’s disciples, Antonio Rossellino, tried his hand. Rossellino was afraid that the previous work done on the marble had weakened it so much that it would never support a statue of such great size and weight, so he too failed to complete the sculpture. Fast forward to 1501, the marble block has now been lying dormant in the Duomo workshop for 25 years, naturally eroding in the elements, when a young Michelangelo agrees to do what the others could not. At this point, Michelangelo had recently finished carving his pieta, a statue depicting The Virgin Mary grieving over the body of Jesus. This work would go on to be recognized as one of his masterpieces, arguably second only to the statue of David. 

Michelangelo took a block of old, discarded marble, and created one of the world’s most renowned sculptures. He didn’t protest, nor did he refuse the job because it seemed too daunting to others, he took what he was given and worked. His work paid off, as the completed statue was instantly recognized as a masterpiece. Partially because David was so stunning, those at the Duomo decided that it could not go on the roof, over 200 feet above Florence, but that it had to be on the ground, where it could be seen up close. First, David’s home was the Piazza della Signoria, but was later moved to its current location inside the Academia Museum which is where I got to see it this past weekend.

I think there’s a powerful lesson, not just in Michelangelo’s perseverance, but in the story of David’s changing locations. David was originally going to be part of a twelve piece series that would display on the roof of the Duomo. He ended up standing solo inside a different building. Even though it wasn’t clear where he was headed, David stands tall, guarding and representing the great city of Firenzi all the same. I guess I just have to appreciate the symbolism between David and young people who travel. Many of the students here at the JFRC often have no idea what country they’re going to be in next week, myself included. It is very freeing but at the same time extremely unsettling. One of the things that surprised me most about this semester has been how uncomfortable I have been. Being in new places, plunged into a new language, and unsure of pretty much everything can take a toll on anyone. Seeing David today reminded me that there is beauty in not knowing. Michelangelo likely had his doubts about that old marble he agreed to work with. The city didn’t know where their awesome new mascot would end up, but in the end, it worked out okay.

It can be difficult to explain to someone at home. When I tell friends in Chicago about a challenge here, about something that frustrated me or a time I was worried, they always say the same thing: “I can’t believe you’re complaining about being in Rome.” True, I am very lucky to be exploring Europe and I won’t forget what a great opportunity this is. That being said, culture shock is more real than I thought it would be. When I got to Florence it was seven AM, cold, and rainy. The sun hadn’t come up yet. We couldn’t check into our hostel until two PM. I was anything but comfortable as I had no clue where to go, or what the next 24 hours would look like. These circumstances at home would be nothing more than an inconvenient way to start a day. But take away the comfort of knowing exactly where your bed is, knowing that your family is close by, and shrink your language skills to those of a ten-year-old, and the situation changes. I knew I had my two friends Victoria and Chloe with me though, so I knew that together we would be just fine in this new place.

Once we started, we couldn’t be stopped. We toured the Uffizi museum, haggled with pushy leather salesmen in the street markets, (Chloe got a killer leather jacket down from $290 to $120) stumbled upon a parade, found a vinyl record store, and had some of the best fast food at 1950 American Diner. After all was said and done, my short weekend in Florence was my favorite part of the semester so far. I know I want to go back when the weather warms up, even though it would mean breaking my one rule of never visiting the same place twice. Sometimes, to squeeze the most out of life, you just have to do some things you didn’t plan.

If Michelangelo could make a masterpiece with discarded marble, I can make my way through a semester full of uncertainty.

Victoria (Left) and Chloe (Right) The drinks at Art Bar are as fun to eat as they are to drink.
David, who’s nickname is “Manu Fortis” which means Strong of Hand. This is likely why Michelangelo chose to make David’s right hand extra large.
The Arno River in Florence
The extensive collection at Move On, a vinyl store and restaurant.
From the Ground Up

From the Ground Up

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On Friday, February 9, I traveled to Napoli (Naples) with 7 members of my science class and our professor Stefania Galdiero. A native to Naples, Stefania studies the chemistry used in producing pharmaceuticals. Our class is titled Science of Italian Art, and in it, we talk about the many ways science and art overlap. (Think: DaVinci using his artistic talents to create accurate diagrams of human anatomy.) Stefania showed us around Naples for a day, taking us on a tour of the university lab where she works, as well as tours of a nearby Accademia di belle arte (really cool college for art students), and the underground caverns that helped shape the city.

The Accademia in Naples is one of the busiest, most prominent of all the accademie in Italy. Every major city has one, they are essentially museums and spaces to hold huge collections of fine art. David, the star of last week’s post, is housed in the Accademia of Firenzi. The one we visited in Naples is not only a home for works of art, but a school for young artists themselves. The walls are lined with sculptures donated by artists for the students to practice sketching and painting. Students at the accademia study there for five years, before going on to become cinematographers, painters, musicians and actors. One of our guides boasted at the workshop adjacent to the stage, where students and professors design and build all of the set pieces for the plays put on in the college. No other college in Europe, according to our guide, builds their own stage materials that they use in their plays. I couldn’t help but imagine what day to day life might be like for the students here. How much fun it must be to study sculpture, restoration, or cinema in a place like this. The few students that were there on Friday afternoon would laugh and share a cigarette with the professors they passed, before bounding down one of the open air hallways on their way to the studio. It was thrilling to see the workshops and spaces where artists of the future were learning and perfecting their crafts.

For lunch, of course, we had pizza. Now, the story goes that impoverished people in Naples were among the first to start adding tomato to their flatbread as a topping. Much of Europe believed the tomato to be poisonous when it was first brought in from the Americas in the 16th century. Once enough people figured out that tomatoes were not killers, pizza was born. As the dish gained popularity, more people traveled to Naples to try it, even venturing into the poorer parts of the city where the food was first created. The pizza I had in Naples was very good, (I had a veggie pizza with spinach, artichoke, and mushroom) but it was nothing life changing or magical as the hype had led me to believe. (Remember, I’m from Chicago)  That being said, if you’re ever on the hunt for the perfect slice, Naples is a great place to start. I only tried it at one restaurant so there is plenty of uncharted cheesy territory left to explore.

After lunch, we squeezed down into what some refer to, creepily, as the womb of Naples. 40 meters below the bustling city is a complex labyrinth of tunnels that have been used for various purposes since the Greeks founded the city in the 7th century BC. First, a quarry was dug out to provide materials with which to literally build the city. The stone and metals from the Earth were used during the construction of Naples. The underground passages and caverns have an area larger than the city itself, and it was all carved by hand with chisels, hammers, and muscle. Looking up at the high ceilings, we could see the marks and divots left by the workers’ chisels. Decades later, the caves were filled with water and used as the city’s aqueduct system. Those who lived there used wells to access and bring up the water as they needed it. The smallest workers would climb down the walls of the well to clean the inside of the reservoirs as needed. Our guide told us that wealthy families would sometimes pay the workers extra to make sure their portion of the aqueduct was always full of clean water, often leaving others to deal with empty or dirty wells. For about 60 years, the caverns were used as the city’s garbage dump, but was cleaned up at the beginning of World War II. The space then provided shelter for Neapolitans as thousands of bombs were dropped on the city over the course of the war. In many ways, the caverns underneath Naples allowed for the city’s survival.

Overall, Naples is a very exciting place. The streets are alive with activity like they are in Rome. Motorcycles and scooters whiz by you on what you thought was a sidewalk, and every corner has a vendor selling something that smells delicious. There is graffiti on every building and a lot of garbage around. Some of the people in our group thought it was a bit too dirty, but I liked the artsy creative feel of every alley. I liked that the city doesn’t try to be too neat, or perfect. It just lives. Naples has been doing things differently since it created pizza in the 1700s and they don’t plan on changing their ways any time soon. While most of our group stayed in Naples for the weekend, I decided to make it a day trip. Even though it was only one day, I felt that I had seen and done plenty by the end of it. I realized this week that I don’t have to visit a new country or city every weekend. Planning these trips can be very stressful, especially on a student budget. I almost forgot that Rome alone is full of adventure and things to see. So I came back to Rome that evening, excited to get to know the city I started in.

 

 

Just outside the entrance to La Accademia di Belle Arte

The Courtyard of La Accademia                                                                                                                                         What the ancient aqueducts had looked like

 

The original Pizza!

 

 

 

 
Mundane and Sweaty: A Day at UG Legon

Mundane and Sweaty: A Day at UG Legon

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My first week at the University of Ghana has been surreal, and I’ve found it hard to put my thoughts into writing. I want to be able to share my deep thoughts and reflections with you, dear reader, but the words won’t come. I am experiencing both elation and disappointment, successes and failures, wellness and illness.

Instead of attempting to interpret these reactions so soon into my time here, I’ve thought it might be interesting to share what a normal day at the University of Ghana looks like.

______________

My earliest class is at 7:30. The walk from the International Student Hostel (ISH) to the International House is just over a mile, and it takes around 30 minutes to make the trip. My alarm goes off at 6 and I sleep through it until like 6:30 because I’m a lazy American. I bring my roll of toilet paper, toothpaste, toothbrush, and face wash to the communal bathroom across the hall.

My roommate Emma and I live on the third level of the hostel. We leave our room and attempt to lock our door (it locks about 45% of the time) and head downstairs.

The hostel looks like a huge structure from the outside, but is built in a style fit for the hot climate with all rooms facing an open courtyard on the inside and a patio on the outside. My patio faces south, away from the rest of UG’s campus.

We head north, passing a market that doesn’t open until mid-morning, a convenient store, a few ATMs, and eventually campus buildings. Sometimes we walk on sidewalks, sometimes on the road, sometimes along red paths in the earth. The sun rises as we approach the International House.

Inside the International House.

We walk into our (air conditioned!) classroom for Twi, a language in the Akan family commonly spoken in Greater Accra. After two hours of “Mepaakyɛw, wo ho te sɛn?” I have a history class in the main lecture hall on campus. By the time the lecturer finishes, it’s almost noon.

The sun hits its peak at around 11:30am and doesn’t quit until after 4pm. The temperature often reaches over 34°C, around 100°F. It’s around this time that I usually get sunburn because I forgot to put sunscreen in my backpack. Sometimes I don’t even carry my backpack because it just makes my back sweat uncontrollably. Midday is obviously when y’all can catch me at my most glamorous.

If I don’t have a particularly busy day, I usually stop by Bush Kanteen to get jollof or waakye with roasted plantains for 3 Ghanaian cedi (less than 1 USD) before going back to ISH. If I really don’t have a busy day, I do my favorite thing and take a nap while it’s hottest outside.

Before dinner, I bring my laptop or a book down to a long table in ISH where there are usually half a dozen people to hang out and chat with. If I’m hungry there’s a kitchen on the ground floor staffed by three Ghanaian women where they make anything from instant coffee to fried rice to tuna sandwiches and french fries. I might follow a group of folks to the night market nearby for dinner, or maybe just for a fresh mango or pineapple cut up by a vendor.

By that point in the evening, it’s “cool” by Ghanaian standards. It usually dips to 23-25°C (73-77°F) and a light breeze moves through the open air hostel. After a cold shower I spend time in my room, reading or journaling or chatting with Emma. I tuck my blue mosquito net under the sides of my mattress and fall asleep to the rhythm of the creaky ceiling fan above me.

______________

I don’t know if I expected every day here to be a thrill of adventure, new sights and sounds, and amazing new people. It’s true that I think it’s beautiful here, and I’m enjoying myself, and those I’ve met have been lovely, but at the end of the day things feel normal. A normal day in Accra is not much different from a normal day in Chicago – one is just a little bit colder than the other.

I like being a student here. I love that I’ve had the opportunity to take the trips that I’ve taken so far (I think I’ll go into those in a forthcoming post), but I like that things otherwise feel mundane. I think these are the baby steps toward making this new place feel like home.

Thanks for listening.

Me, proud that the person who took this photo didn’t catch me off guard.

Until next time,

Anna

Che Figata!

Che Figata!

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As Rene Descartes says, “If you spend too much time traveling you will become a stranger in your own home” but does it count if your home is in a foreign place..?

While in Rome I have become acquainted with the old nomadic lifestyle of constant movement. Whenever it seems that I may remember the name of the corner coffee shop, the corner changes along with the name of the city that I am staying in. However, not all is lost, along with my lack of orientation, because as the cities change I maintain my curiosity.

However, it is neither the illustrious Churches with all their golden skies and white marble cloud covered floors, nor the magnificent statues who bring older men to their knees in envy of their immortal essences that grab hold of my mind and soul. There are those places unseen and unrecognized that hold true rare brilliance. There is a museum found curbside the Arno River, near the city center, that has little to no foot traffic. Constantly ignored by the diamond-eyed tourism, is Galileo Galilei’s dedication from the people of Florence. When walking through the levels of repossessed mechanisms, it is enlightening to look at the makeshift wonders that still currently shape our mind and beliefs in the material world. From 500-year-old equipment made to predict the arrangement of our stars today, to the first pulleys whose design would lead to the industrial revolution and elevators. If you are allowed the chance, visit Florence and return home to the origin of what we call direction, speed, and the primary properties. Then take the elevator down to experience his brilliance. Che Figata!
What I Learned: Cinque Terre

What I Learned: Cinque Terre

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At the beginning of February, I visited a region of Northern Italy called Cinque Terre, which translates to “five lands.” This is an area of five small towns, and in just two days, I was able to visit each one. While I was there, I learned a few things that I thought I’d share with you all.

  • Before you go on a trip, you should do more research than a quick Google search.

The week before we left, I was stressed. Classes had really picked up, and I had a lot of work to do. I was traveling with just one other friend, and I let her do a lot of the research and planning. My research consisted of reading the first few things that popped up when I searched “What to do in Cinque Terre.” While these were helpful and gave me an idea of what to expect from the region, I wasn’t asking the right questions. I should’ve been searching the best time to go to Cinque Terre, for starters, because we ended up going during off season. This seems obvious- Cinque Terre is right on the water and many people go there for the beaches. February isn’t the best time to sit on the beach. But we still expected there to be more to do! As we sat in a restaurant for lunch on Saturday shortly after we arrived, we tried asking the waitress for some suggestions of things to do in the region. She laughed, a bit nervously, and said, “Well, in the winter, there’s not much to do here.” If we had done a little more research, we would’ve known this!

  • But you don’t always have to listen to what your research tells you.

That being said, I’m almost glad we didn’t know that going in. It would’ve skewed my idea of the region. It was almost funny, us walking around trying to find things to do. Even though we saw it in most of the towns, we were still surprised when we made it to the next and seemed to be some of the only people there. The weekend we went was a shorter weekend for us (we had had classes on Friday, so we were only able to travel Saturday and Sunday), so we had just the right amount of time to wander through all the towns before heading home. If it had been warmer, we might’ve gotten distracted by the beach and wanted to sit there all weekend. Don’t get me wrong, that would’ve been great, but going in February allowed us to really see all the towns, compare them, and pick which was our favorite. We saw some beautiful views and captured pictures that I will forever want to show off to family and friends.

  • Go to the bathroom whenever one is offered to you, but don’t look into it too much.

This has become something I’ve learned of Italy in general, but bathrooms are… different here. Public restrooms are often available near big tourist sites, but you usually have to pay up to one euro for entry. Restaurants have bathrooms, but you are of course expected to purchase something in order to use them. Stores like clothing stores and supermarkets do not have bathrooms. So, on weekend trips and whenever I venture into the city, every time I stop for a meal or gelato or a cappuccino, I make it a point to go to the bathroom. This was especially important in Cinque Terre because we were constantly on the go, and we didn’t always know when we’d find another open restaurant or bar. So… My second comment probably sounds a little confusing- why shouldn’t you look into the bathroom too much? During lunch on Sunday, asI entered the bathroom of our restaurant for the second time (trying to take full advantage of a free bathroom in reach), I looked at the ceiling and saw THE BIGGEST SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. I am pretty terrified of spiders, so the appeal of the bathroom was quickly diminished. In general, bathrooms here are fine, but many toilets don’t have toilet seats. The bathrooms are usually in the basement of buildings, and after trekking down steep staircases to get to them, they can be pretty dirty. So, use bathrooms when possible, but always carry hand sanitizer with you and don’t look up!!

  • Talk to the locals, even though it’s scary!

The friend I traveled with is much more advanced in her Italian skills than I am, so I leaned on her throughout the weekend to help us navigate the unfamiliar towns. I am used to keeping my head down and avoiding nerve-wracking situations, but she was great about asking the locals for suggestions. We met the owner of a nearby café (where we ate breakfast on both days and I had a late night snack on Saturday), and he gave us directions and made great cake!! I realized how important those interactions can be, even if they’re scary. This local’s café was our favorite place in Corniglia, the town we stayed in, and we were able to see more of Cinque Terre because we talked to the owner. (I’m hoping to write more about conversations with locals in a later blog post, so stay tuned!)

My best Italian is still me ordering gelato.

  • Embrace the local culture and norms of where you go.

I have never been the most outdoorsy person, and when I started telling people I wanted to go to Cinque Terre, they kept mentioning the hiking there. My friend and I left for the weekend hoping that the trains running between the towns we heard about weren’t just a myth. And they weren’t! We used the trains to get from some towns to the next. But once we’d spent some time there, we realized how big of a role the hiking trails played in the “culture” in Cinque Terre. We completed two hikes during the weekend (one on each day), and it ended up being one of our favorite parts. We decided to try the shorter trails so as not to burn out, which was a good decision because wow! I was sore for days afterwards! But the views we saw along the way were breathtaking. I snapped pictures constantly, each time muttering, “Okay I know I said the last one would be my last picture but look at that!” We met some very nice locals and fellow tourists who helped guide us in the right direction, and we enjoyed some good conversation along the way.

Some views from a hike.

Although the weekend wasn’t really what I had expected or what I would have planned, it ended up being so relaxing. It pulled me off campus without completely exhausting me, as some of my longer trips have. I learned to go with the flow for the weekend- something I’ve never been great at. It really payed off, and Cinque Terre has been one of my favorite places so far.

In front of our favorite view!

 

Take a Hike!

Take a Hike!

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On Friday I went on a hike around Monte Mario, the big hill that is home to the JFRC and the surrounding Balduina neighborhood. Soon after setting off, JFRC librarian and enthusiastic hiker Ann Wittrick in the lead, I heard murmurings from some other hikers that this trek would be four hours long. Four hours!? I hadn’t seen anything about this on the posters. Apparently, the information was on Facebook. Once again, I was out of the loop because I don’t check Facebook. I was not the only one taken by surprise though, other hikers quickly grew apprehensive, several suddenly regretting their light breakfasts of coffee and cornetti. Nevertheless, we were off! As our feet pounded along wooded trails, up and down the hills of Rome, many of the original bright-eyed travelers fell away, opting to catch a bus home as the rest of us continued. I’d say that about 15 of us stayed for the entire trip. I’m glad I stayed because I got some cool pictures of the city and saw the Olympic Stadium where Rome’s most famous soccer teams play.

We made our way up the trails of Monte Mario Nature Reserve which is 139 meters (456 ft.) high. The hill is home to a lot of biodiversity which is not so easy to find in today’s metropolitan Rome. The ground beneath the oak and maple trees is a mixture of sand and gravel from the ancient days of Rome. Though there was more wildlife there years ago, the area is still home to rodents like house and field mice as well as birds like the Jackdaw, Long-tailed Tit, and Rome’s infamous Starlings. (The last of this group swarm the city every year in November and December, burying the city in buckets of their, umm, gifts) The hill gave us some unique views of the city. From different viewpoints along the trail we could see the Vatican, the Colosseum, and the Olympic Stadium poking out among Rome’s orange and yellow apartments.

After the hilltop, we visited a French cemetery for fallen French soldiers of World War II. Many of the soldiers had German names, evidence of the many changes throughout France’s history between the cultures of Germany and France. There were many graves honoring fallen Muslim soldiers as well. These had gravestones with different shapes, and symbols of a crescent moon and star. One of the JFRC’s theology teachers was with us, and he remarked that the Muslim graves were here because there had been so many Muslim soldiers recruited by the French army during the war. Not too far from the cemetery stands a giant statue of the Virgin Mary, meant as a symbolic praise to God for keeping Rome safe during WWII.

As we made our way back to campus, we visited the Olympic Stadium which was built to host the 1942 Olympic Games in Rome, but did not because of WWII. The stadium and adjacent Olympic Village was used to host the games in 1960. We saw the buildings that housed the athletes, and a practice field and track next to the actual stadium. The grounds of the stadium are dotted with Greek style statues depicting muscular athletes. Our S.L.A Judy, told us that fascist leader Benito Mussolini had ordered the statues to be built, with the ideal fascist Italian man in mind. These brawny dudes (not a woman in sight of course) were meant to symbolize the way Mussolini wanted every man to look. I thought it was funny then, when Judy also told us that the reason each statue was made to look across the field at the statue opposite it, could be traced back to ancient Greek traditions; specifically, the tradition of young men forming relationships with older men as a way to enter adulthood. We also saw the old headquarters of the fascist party in Italy. It was, an extremely square, plain grey building with no defining features. It looked like it had come out of a Fascists Architecture 101 textbook. In the courtyard outside, there were huge stone blocks inscribed with a highlight reel of Mussolini and, by extension, the fascist party. The blocks at the end of the rows have been left blank, with the idea that they would be filled in as the fascists continued influencing the world.

At the end, though my feet were tired, I was glad the hike was so long. I left with the nice reminder that taking a nice long walk is an effective way to clear one’s head. A hike in the woods, or a walk through the town can boost your mood and bring everything into perspective. I hope to visit the Monte Mario Reserve at least once more before I go.

 

 

 

Some of the Muslim graves in the French WWII cemetery we visite

The public soccer field next to the Olympic Stadium

View from Monte Mario trail

 

 

 

 

 
Getting Scammed: A Personal Adventure in Microeconomics

Getting Scammed: A Personal Adventure in Microeconomics

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“No, no, its eleven cedis.”

“Eleven!?”

On the counter in a campus café was a can of Coke and a peach Snapple, but I only had offered a five cedi note to the man behind the counter. He told me the Snapple was 6 and the Coke was 5. I was incredulous.

“Five cedis for the Coke?”

The attendant clicked his tongue at me in affirmation.

I reluctantly fished more cash out of my small wallet and handed it over. I left the building with my lunch and drinks and walked back to the International House where I was waiting in between classes, all the while thinking that I had just bought a Coke from the same gentleman last week for 2gh, 50p.

One New Ghanaian Cedi is worth just less than a US quarter. Change is in pesewa values, and logically 100p is equal to 1gh. I’ve heard the government mints a 1p coin, but it’s of such little value that I’ve never seen it in circulation (Take a hint @US).

Usually, I spend around 100gh per week on meals. I can get a full meal and drink for around 2-5gh and I typically only eat 2 full meals a day. I do a lot of snacking.

By now I’ve become familiar with the places where I can get the most for my money. There’s a, for lack of a better term, food court called Bush Kanteen between ISH (where I live) and the main classroom buildings where I can get a full plate of rice for 2gh and a soda for 1. The night market just outside ISH has meals around 5gh, and at JQB, the lecture building with the café in question, I get a serving of rice and a Coke for 4gh.

A plate of fried rice and an egg, a meal that kept me full for most of the afternoon and only set me back 2gh.

I’ve been to JQB more than a few times for snacks and water and food, and they’ve pretty much remained consistent with their prices, until yesterday. I racked my brains to figure out why the man charged me double for a soda; the only difference I could ascertain was that I asked for a Coke in a can instead of a plastic bottle – but aren’t cans always cheaper than bottles? I already knew that the cheapest way to get soda is in a glass bottle, since the glass is sent back to the manufacturer and reused, but I’ve never paid more for aluminum than for plastic.

I didn’t want to consider that this nice guy, who’s got to recognize me by now, scammed me.

Scammed! In my fourth week here! Frankly I’m embarrassed.

In our first week here we were lectured on the local cash economies that allow Accra to function. Unless at a supermarket or shop in the mall, the price for an item is negotiable with the seller, and most sellers immediately double or triple their selling price at the sight of my skin. I’ve become decent at these interactions, resisting any seller who I know won’t budge on their prices, and returning to sellers who keep their prices consistently low. Sometimes I walk away knowing I was probably overcharged, but the exchange rate of the cedi is such that I’m rarely concerned.

I thought I was getting the hang of it, but if the same guy doubled his price for me and I paid without resisting, maybe I’m not.

I know I’m allowed to make mistakes, both here and at home. And I know that a mistake that cost me less than a dollar isn’t a lot to get worked up about. But shouldn’t I be able to tell when I’m being taken advantage of? I find myself unable to stand up for myself and insist that I’m being overcharged, or insist that I’m being treated poorly in other situations. Sometimes this is as simple as 2gh, and sometimes it’s a lot more harmful (I’m still working on how to talk about an example of this that happened last weekend, so be patient with me). And I know I’ll never blend in here, but every time I let someone take advantage of me because I’m American, I feel less confident about my presence here.

This is me holding myself accountable in writing – next time I go to JQB for a pop, I’m only going to give him what I think is appropriate. Next time I get a plate of rice, I’ll insist to only pay what it’s worth. Ghanaians are all more outgoing and confident than I am, so I think it’s time I meet them where they’re at. I’ll save that 2gh 50p if my life depends on it, dammit.

 

Wish me well,

Anna

 

P.S. The USAC group took a crazy trip this weekend to a monkey sanctuary, the highest mountain in Ghana, and a waterfall. Here’s some pics:

View from the top of Mt. Afadjato. Only half of the mountains in this photo are in Ghana – the rest are on the Togo side of the border.
Me, about to die climbing up this mountain.
Nicole, Kayla, Clarissa, and myself, after having died climbing up the mountain.
A monkey eating a stolen banana at Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary in Hohoe, a city in the Volta Region.
Prati, Ramen, and Reading for Fun

Prati, Ramen, and Reading for Fun

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This past Wednesday, I took a tour of Prati, a Roman neighborhood that is home to Castel Sant’Angelo and St. Peter’s Square, with several other JFRC students. What made this tour unique, was that it was led by Italian students. The students study English at a local school and they were between 15 and 20 years old. They had the chance to practice their English by teaching us about the local sights as we walked around. We practiced our Italian and heard about what life is like for students living in Italy. They were all very nice and their teacher Frank did a good job motivating everyone to step out of their comfort zones and start conversation in their secondary language. I had never been to St. Peter’s Square and it looked exceptional in the setting sunlight. The lights in the square had just come on and my pictures fail to capture how pretty it all looked under the navy blue evening sky.

On Friday morning I traveled outside the ancient walls of the city to see St. Paul’s Basilica, which was equally beautiful. I has been raining all weekend here in Rome, so the trek was cold and wet. After what seemed like hours spent on two crowded buses, I arrived at St. Paul’s and got to spend as long as I wanted touring the cavernous church. St. Paul’s church is different than those of the Renaissance era because it is not filled with ornate decorations, paintings, and statues. St. Paul’s is quite empty, just a huge, quiet space for prayer and reflection. There are several rooms along the perimeter with some art and stories that tell the histories of religious figures like St. Ignatius of Loyola who founded the order of the Jesuits. Lining the walls near the ceiling are portraits of every pope since the beginning of the papacy. The coolest thing about the basilica is that it is likely the final resting place of St. Paul himself, and there you can see his sarcophagus and the chains that he was bound in while imprisoned. After the basilica, I went to a nearby ramen place called Akira which was really great. Hot green tea and a bowl of steamy veggies and noodles was exactly what I was craving after walking around in the cold rain all morning. Plus anything other than the same dining hall food here is a welcome change!

One of the best parts of being here for me has been the free time I have. During the week, I enjoy a much lighter work load than I have during normal semesters in Chicago. I have been using the extra time to work out in the gym almost every day. I’ve been reading and writing a lot more for fun, watching less Netflix and taking in much less social media. I feel good about that and I hope to keep up these habits when I get back to Chicago. Now, watching the occasional movie is a treat, it’s much more fun because my appreciation for it has grown. Similarly, reading is much more fun, like it used to be before high school. Things are good and I hope to keep improving them throughout the rest of the trip.

I am about halfway done with my semester in Rome and it feels like I’ll never be able to fit everything into the next 6 weeks. In an effort to try, I finally put together a list of things I want to see and do in Rome before I go. I realize I’ll have to skip some things because of my budget and limited time frame. My plan is to do my best and spend every weekend that I have left in Rome off campus, rain or shine, checking out as many restaurants and sights as possible. This way, when I get back home, I’ll have no regrets and I’ll know I did my best to fill the trip with as many memories as possible. Be on the lookout for more posts in the coming weeks as I get really familiar with Rome, while also getting to see Poland, Amsterdam, Assisi and the Amalfi Coast.

 

 

 

St. Peter’s Square at Night
Also St. Peter’s Square at Night
St. Paul’s Basilica Ceiling
The Popes at St. Paul’s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Hello Rome, have we met?

Hello Rome, have we met?

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Week Seven is already coming to an end. I can hardly believe it myself. As I reflect on the past month and a half, I can’t help but wonder, what have I actually accomplished in my time here? Home is where someone notices your absence. Has my home noticed mine? Have I already grown accustomed to a life away from the house and people I’ve always known? Can I honestly say I’ve taken advantage of the privilege of a life abroad and all that that entitles? My friends and followers all comment their envious blips on my posts, reaffirming my “luckiness.” I’ve met people from around the globe whose presence has affected me as a traveller and made me realize the importance of the impression you can leave on someone’s life, as big or small as it may be.

This might get real cheesy real fast, but bear with me. Call it what you may: meditation, homesickness, the cliche quest of a young adult trying to “find herself,” or whatever. Life abroad away from my family, friends, even weather, has made me realize just how much I take for granted. It started off with the little things like how close my house is to Target and the availability of a reliable dryer when I do laundry. It eventually built up to include how easy it is to FaceTime in the comfort of my house without having ten people walk in on me and the comforting feeling of knowing my mom is cooking up dinner in the next room. The familiarity of the home I grew up in has created a security blanket that I’ve had to shed in order to full enjoy what Rome has to offer.

While the rest of my classmates packed their bags to seek adventure in various European regions, my friends and I decided to slow down and spend two weekends in Rome. This consisted of a pretty empty cafeteria and hardly anyone adding to the arduous slamming of doors every ten minutes. While I agree on wanting to explore Europe at large (I myself have trips lined up), taking a step back is also a necessary part of enjoying a study abroad experience. Hitting up our favorite pub and dancing the night away to throwbacks of the 2000s (is that what they think Americans listen to all day?) can be just as rewarding as taking flights around the continent. All you really need is good company, good music, and a drink (I’m talking about Mountain Dews, baby!).

While I have yet to hit the halfway mark on my trip, I know there’s still a lot for me to see, hear, smell, taste, touch, etc. I often question how I can return to my life in Chicago when every day there’s something new to explore in Rome. At this point it’d probably take a lifetime to accept and adjust to the norms of European living. Despite the stress and late-night cram sessions (sometimes I forget I’m here to study), my time abroad has already changed me for the better. My appreciation for travel and culture will stick with me in everything I invest in. While my experience will certainly differ from the next person’s, reflection is key in understanding just what this period of adaptation means for the future. I know in my heart I’ll be back here, but for now I’ll take it one day at a time.

-Andrea