I’m sure that the title of the blog surprises you. Who wouldn’t want to walk around St. Peter’s Square before the sun is out? But that’s what we found out when we arrived at The Vatican at 5:30am, in anticipation for the Papal Audience!
We were on a mission. We are in Rome, living right next door to our dear pal Benny and we wanted to be in the front row for the audience. Want isn’t even a strong enough of a word. The front row was our destiny.
First in line!
After a quick conversation with some Swiss Guards about where the entrance would be (who knew that they were so friendly!) we set up camp in a walkway right outside the square, and assumed our “homeless Catholic college students” roles. Sleeping in shifts as the wonderful guys that were with us kept watch over us and our items we suddenly found ourselves in the front of a huge line of tourists, locals, nuns, and a choir singing in Polish. As soon as they opened the gates we rushed the square like a football team charging the field. We pushed. We shoved. We made a few sacrifices along the way. But when we breathlessly made our way to the front and darted into the seats next to the barrier it was all worth it. WE WERE IN THE FRONT ROW!
FRONT ROW
And let me tell you, the front row is the way to see a Papal Audience. We didn’t need the zoom on our cameras he was right in front of us! As the Pope passed us in the Pope mobile we all began to tear up. Here we were, a bunch of die hard Catholic students, studying in Rome, with the Pope less than 10 feet in front of us. We were absolutely overwhelmed.
No zoom!
The audience was beautiful, with readings in all different languages, a blessing, and shout outs to every group in attendance (the JFRC group was the 2nd loudest, after the Polish choir!) We left the audience feeling blessed (literally!) and so grateful for this semester and every amazing opportunity that it has given to us (thus far!)
Waiting for the blessing!
Visiting the homeland? Awesome. Visiting the actual home in the homeland? Incredible.
Let me start off this post by saying how incredibly blessed I am. Not only am I studying in Rome, not only do I have all these incredible professors, not only do I get to travel to places I’ve only dreamed about (or pinned to my “Places to See Board” on Pinterest) I am also lucky enough to have incredible support from my friends, family, and most of all my parents. My parents have given me the gift of an amazing education, which allowed me the opportunity to study abroad in Rome. On top of that, my parents helped me earn every dime that I’m spending here in Rome. Without them, this semester, this LIFE, wouldn’t be possible.
For that reason I was so incredibly excited that they were able to come to Rome and visit me for a week. Hearing SLA Gina announce “Mary Mantia your parents are here” in Mensa was, although slightly embarrassing as the entire room burst into applause, also the most wonderful words to hear.
I spent the beginning of the week showing them Monte Mario and introducing them to “my” Rome. I took them to Simply (that might have been a selfish motive), to the restaurant near Piazza Navona to get pear pasta, to Trastevere to try my favorite suppli, and showed them what the life of a “typical American college student studying in Rome” was like. I even brought them to watch our Calcio game (thankfully we won in a last minute goal)!
After getting through a week of crazy classes my parents and I set off for Bagni di Lucca and Riolo. Why these places? Well let me tell you.
I am half Italian (25% Sicilian 25% Tuscan) on my father’s side, making him 100% Italian. My Tuscan side of the family comes from a town called Riolo, above Bagni di Lucca, which is right by Lucca. Since I was a child I’ve heard of my family speak of this mysterious villa in Riolo, that we apparently still had a claim to. It wasn’t until I was older that members of my family went back to the house, reclaimed it as our own, fixed it up, and made it into an incredible Tuscan villa. For the last few years or so I’ve heard these great stories of members of my family going to the villa, drinking brandy at the Bar Italia in Bagni di Lucca, and enjoying our actual homeland. I had only hoped that one day I would be lucky enough to see it.
Let me just say that the entire weekended exceeded my already high expectations. Bagni di Lucca, for one thing, is a beautiful tiny town where it seems every body knows your name. With a river cutting through the town every view is breathtaking, and looks like a scene out of “Under the Tuscan Sun.”
My parents in Bagni di Lucca!
After spending a quiet day in Bagni di Lucca, eating and drinking our way through the town, we relaxed at our hotel and prepared for the next day. Because Saturday was the day we had been looking forward to for quite some time.
Saturday morning we met up with friends of of family members (Michael and my Uncle Danny, who come to Riolo often) who then drove us up to Riolo from Bagni di Lucca to see the family villa.
It. Was. Beautiful. This is the house that my great great great grandmother was born in, where my originally family line worked and played and grew. I couldn’t get any closer to my homeland than I was at that moment. From the grapes growing off the balcony, to the original bed frame, to every niche and corner it was perfect. I was overcome with this feeling of home in the middle of a country I’m not even a citizen of. I wish I could more eloquently describe what it felt like to be there but in this moments words fail. It’s a feeling I will never forget, and will treasure until I once again find myself at the Villa (which trust me, will be as soon as possible).
My parents and I at the Villa!
After that incredibly emotional experience we headed back down to Bagni di Lucca, to enjoy the town along with more food (like wild boar!). I remember thinking as I sat with my parents talking over a couple of drinks and cigars about how ridiculous and amazing my life is in this moment. The only thing missing from the picture was my brother, who I’m sure will one day be back there with us. Life truly does not get better than this.
There is always that local place that you love to eat at. Back home in Cincinnati I love to go to my neighborhood Skyline Chili. In Chicago I really enjoy going to a place called Ghareeb Nawaz before or after I head into work for the day or in the harsh Chicago winter to Pho 888 a few stops down the Red Line to reminisce about Viet Nam over a bowl of steamy pho, remembering the pho restaurant I frequented everyday down Alley 18 so that by the end of my semester in Saigon, I could just say ‘the usual’.
I was looking for a nice place to eat here in Beijing, that little restaurant that would become ‘my place’. I technically can cook for myself but the public kitchens on each floor of my dorm are not the most sanitary. There was once instance when I went to fill my metal and clay thermos with hot water to make a warm green/oolong tea and when I turned the level to the spout of the hot water heater, a half dozen roaches scurried out of the grille of the machine. Besides that the kitchens are not always open, and when open are usually occupied by Thai, Indonesian, or Vietnamese exchange students. They seem to have a monopoly on the kitchens while the American, Korean, and Japanese students seem to have resigned themselves to eating out. Is this a cultural thing? Going to supermarkets around UIBE have also led me to believe trying to cook here would be more expensive than just eating out. It would also be a waste to buy all the utensils to cook and then just leave them behind at the end of the semester. Thus, I searched around for some good (and cheap) local restaurants. My adventures around campus and a few streets slinking away from the university yielded interesting results, none could compare to the glory that is… DONKEY!
My first week in Beijing was a whirlwind of Orientation. During that time, one of my good friends Tyler was just getting ready to head back to the States after spending the summer in Beijing. Tyler had also been in Beijing two semesters prior on the same program. So, for the first week before I headed out on the Silk Road excursion, Tyler helped out with some useful things, including finding some good places to eat. Of all these places, none come close to the ‘Donkey Restaurant’. The exact translation of the restaurant is something like, “Little Donkey Restaurant”. It is a cozy little hole in the wall a block from campus down a little side street.
The first time when I went with Tyler and his girlfriend I was a bit skeptical of how good donkey could be. He ordered some sandwiches and I was hesitant to bite into mine, but once I did I was hooked. The sandwich itself is made of a kind of flatbread they make in a big iron press in the back of the restaurant. It is so warm, oily, and flaky on the outside but soft and chewy on the inside. Stuffed into the flatbread are strips and chunks of donkey meat surrounded by minced green peppers. The meat is like beef, but a bit more chewy and sweet. The green peppers are juicy and mildly spicy. On the table red chili pepper paste and Chinese vinegar are available. I usually put just a dash of vinegar on the sandwich, gently slather on the red chili pepper paste with the tiny metal spoon, and then I add my own ingredient: Maggi Sauce. I carry a little bottle of Maggi sauce with me whenever I go to the donkey restaurant because it adds a little extra flavor to the already awesome sandwich. All in all a great meal, and all for just 5 RMB, which is close to 1 USD.
There are other great things to eat at the donkey place- like donkey rice, donkey jiaozi (potstickers), and donkey soup, hotpot, and fried green beans. The rice is nothing special, but the donkey jiaozi and soup are quite good. The soup is a kind of thick egg-drop soup with the shredded donkey and peppers from the sandwich thrown into the mix. It’s a great winter food- warm and spicy with lots of flavor. It always comes to the table in a large ceramic bowl accompanied with lots of smaller bowls and a large ladle, a family style soup. The jiaozi are packed tightly with tenderized donkey meat. The jiaozi from the donkey place seem to be more filly than other comparable jiaozi of pork, beef, or vegetable that I’ve eaten in other restaurants. The fried green beans are served with peppers and taste a lot like French fries. The hotpot is a whole meal in itself- a large bubbling pot of donkey chunks, tofu, mushrooms, noodles, cabbage, and peppers.
Going to get donkey has become something more than my little hangout, but has become a sort of ritual of my friends and I. At least three times a week for dinner or lunch we all decide to go to get donkey. A slang has come up “Lets go do the donk” or “let us partake of the sacred meal that is donkey” We have a little joke amongst ourselves. I’m sure you can guess what it is… Anyway, our little donkey excursions have been a bonding experience and the meals are always great. The workers in the restaurant know our faces and whenever we deviate from our usual meal they become surprised. One day we decided to try a donkey hotpot instead of sandwiches, and they were very surprised!
I never thought of donkey sandwiches as Chinese food, but I have found them to be one of my favorite dishes. I was talking with a professional photographer from Russia over a donkey sandwich one night after a photo shoot and he actually told me on his flight to China all he could do was think about eating donkey, at a different restaurant, but still- donkey. Who would have thought?
Sitting in the restaurant in the little orange tables and stools looking around at my friends, its so funny. It isn’t how I imagined China, but it’s great. I found my little place, I have good friends to share it with, and according to Chinese Medicine- donkey is a yang stimulating meat (heat producing) and so will be great for this winter. One of the Chinese students told me that there is an old saying that the finest meat in heaven is dragon, but that on earth the finest meat is donkey. I would have to agree. I’m going to miss eating donkey when I get back to the US, but for now I’m going to enjoy it while I can. Anyhow all this talk about donkey is making me hungry and it’s about lunch time, so I better call some friends so we can go eat some ass.
After 2 months of sweltering heat, non-stop street noise and urban landscape, we decided it was time to head north to the Central Highlands for cooler weather and fresh air.
Da Lat is a small, peaceful French-inspired town in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. It is supposed to be 8-11 hours by bus from Saigon but thanks to the most terrifying mountainside bus ride of my life (in which I fell off my seat and still have a bruise thanks to the erratic driving) our driver got us there in 6. We were immediately taken with this town, it was cold! Cold in Vietnam! So cold in fact, we all wore North Face jackets to keep warm! This is a big deal coming from a city that requires at least 3 showers a day just to stand the heat. And everywhere we looked, it was green. The town is extremely charming and was once the honeymoon choice of Vietnamese. On our first day we took a cable car across a massive valley to a monastery on a lake. After spending the day admiring the massive buddha statues and lakefront, we headed back across the valley for our favorite part of vacation–ice cream.
On our second day there, we decided to climb to the peak of Lang Biang mountain outside of town. The current group is fairly outdoorsy and the smaller group we went went are all hikers. But nothing prepared us for the hike ahead. The combination of humidity in the jungle, the straight up the side of a mountain “path” and the altitude made this the most difficult hike any of us had ever undertaken. But my god, the views from the top were worth every bit of it.
Da Lat was also very, very different from the culture that we had experienced in Saigon. There are several minority tribes living in and around Da Lat making for a very interesting mix of people. From the hiking to the people, Da Lat fully exceeded my expectations. If you find yourself looking for an escape from the city, Da Lat is perfect.
To see pictures that won’t post here, please go to:
“I am in a surprisingly good mood despite the current situation. I have never been the one who likes to wait, especially in heat and overcrowding, but here I think I can make an exception. Which is laughable, because even without my mental exception I have no choice.”
a clustered line of vans waiting for the ferry
The above is a journal excerpt from my trip to Cambodia. After 3 hours of driving through the Cambodian countryside on a journey to Phnom Penh, our bus was halted by a massive line of tuk tuks and mini vans filled with people. They were all waiting for a pair of rotating ferry boats to cross the Mekong River. At that moment, I could only think of the number of frustrating layovers I have experienced with airlines, angry because I felt I didn’t get what I paid for. This situation was different, I wasn’t sitting in any mundane airport forced to watch subtitles on CNN while I listened to John Mayer over the loud speaker (no offense to John Mayer or CNN). I was in Cambodia: wandering the streets during an unplanned stop, waving at smiling locals, watching water-buffalo graze in the distance, or reading Joel Brinkley’s exceptional book, Cambodia’s Curse: The Modern History of a Troubled Land. Life was good.
"clown cars" full of Cambodians traveling over holiday and waiting for the ferry
Before coming to Southeast Asia, I pictured Cambodia as a paradise. I was ignorant, and to be honest, any foreign country sounded like a paradise to me. In reality, Cambodia does have a wonderful landscape, but it also has had a long history of war and economic struggles. What is most surprising about my lack of knowledge on Cambodia, is that the conflict and genocide tied to the Khmer Rouge take over happened while my parents and grandparents were alive. I suppose these events could have been overshadowed by the Vietnam War and issues that directly impacted the United States, or even the fact I had never taken a Southeast Asian class until this semester. The trip to Phnom Penh was exciting and emotional.
1) Our group visited Toeul Slang Highshool and the Killing Fields (also a movie), both sites of mass killings during the late 1970’s by the Khmer Rouge.
victims of the Toeul Slang High School killingsclassrooms turned prison cells at Toeul Slang High Schoolbracelets left in memory of mother and child victims at the Killing Fields
2) We were given a lecture by a Cambodian economist who essentially spoke of more struggles than successes on the current political and economic state in Cambodia.
3) Visited the Peace Cafe, run by Center of the Dove ( a Jesuit Org.) that teaches life skills to those who are shut in and disabled in Cambodia (http://www.jesuit.org/2010/10/28/the-power-of-hope-a-jesuit-training-center-in-cambodia/) Besides selling coffee and hand made goods, the Center is also the leading producer of wheelchairs in the country. These chairs are stable enough to last on gravel roads.
Peace Cafehomemade furniture at the Peace Cafe
4. Our trip to Cambodia occurred during the mourning period and funeral for the late King, Norodom Sihanouk, who recently died in Bangkok. On our first night in the city, we witnessed many Cambodian’s praying and lighting incense in front of the palace in his honor. Black ribbons were worn across the country in remembrance.
palace in Phnom Penh lit to commemorate the late kinglighting incense to honor the king
Day Three- October 19, 2012
“Again, I am in a surprisingly good mood despite the current situation. After all, I just saw a space ship.”
a "space ship"
The above is also a journal excerpt from the Cambodia trip. Surprisingly, our second bus, to Siem Reap, was delayed. This time the bus broke down. For two hours our group explored a village 1 and 1/2 hours outside of the city. The space ship was located in a park, and I was more than willing to imagine the children on their way to the moon. It was sunset, and we took in the view while watching a man fish off of the bridge. At 9 pm we made it to our hotel, ate, and rested for the long day ahead.
Cambodia has many tropical wetlands. Most homes are built elevated from the ground. All stairs also must be built in odd number due to religious superstition.
“I almost wonder how this place looked 9 centuries ago,” Jack said to me on our excursion to Angkor Wat and surrounding temples. It was a time warp. Everything was handmade and carved from stone. The magnitude and beauty of the Hindu and Buddhist temples were unreal. It was a perfect fusion of nature and man. I will include photos in their own post (you won’t believe the trees I saw!)
The trip to Cambodia is something that makes the Vietnam program exceptional, and for some, could possibly be a reason to join the program at all. As our coordinator Chris shared, no group experience to Cambodia is the same. So if any of you go in the future, I am sure it will exceed any expectation I have set now.
The days are counting down, I am off to choose my classes for the Spring!
As I promised, here is a photo depiction of our trip to Angkor Wat!
First of many incredible trees at Angkor Wat."Take the picture," says our tour guide!Incredible molding/carving on every wall.Scale of temple wall in comparison to my height.The temples at Angkor Wat are still practicing places of worship.Apes roaming the grounds.Ape following classmates.
