I've been a traveling a bit and been up to all kinds of wonderful things, but instead of making a laundry list of activites, I thought it would be more fun to just go from here and write about what I have pictures of.
So, yesterday, on my way to school, I took pictures of all the things I pass everyday and that I have love for. For bonus points, look up the map online and follow along. The satellite map on Google is exciting because you can see the Duomo and such.
So, this is the view from my kitchen's window. I live on the fourth floor on a place near Santa Croce, on Borgo Allegri. It's a bit further away from SACI then some of the other apartments other students live in, but it is quieter and feels more like a neighborhood. In the picture you can sort of see the park that's across the street. One of the few green places. I do love the city, but there are not particularly a lot of trees or plants at all, really. Also, there's a mosque down the street from me. Every now and then you can just catch the call to prayer. It reminds me of Istanbul, if only a bit. Later on, I'll have to post photos and stories from that venture.
At any rate, there's actually a hilarious story connected with the mosque down the street. When I first came to Florence, the keys I was given to get into my apartment didn't work. So, after some calls and some waiting, my landlady came to help me. This was my first introduction to what I have now realized is the typical Florentine older women. She came bustling up the street, wearing a long fur coat and fur hat. Presumably seeing me standing sadly with my luggage and two friends outside the door, she came up and introduced herself. When meeting Italians in more formal situations (ie - not in a bar), there's always this moment where they realize you're American and they remember that Americans don't do the kiss kiss greeting. You can almost see them, in that split second, trying to figure out the appropriate action. There is this leaning towards you, a pause, a large lean back and hand extension. It's quite awkward and hilarious and if you're ever in the situation, look out for it.
Anyway, so I'm meeting my landlady and she's nice and sort of grouchy in an adorable way. She lets us up into the place and proceedes to show us around. During this she manages to forget which one of the three of us is actually living in the apartment (several times), make sure I knew that it is really okay that people attend a mosque nearby (this spoken in a somewhat hurried and hushed way as if she were expecting me to move out on the spot), and light her fur coat on fire. All of this accomplished without pause and the full bearing of grace and gravity only a woman wearing a fur hat can accomplish.
This picture shows my door and also the abundance of scooters.
So, now walking away from my home towards the Duomo, past the park on the left. You can sort of see the Duomo in the corner above the buildings. Actually, if not for the trees in the park, you would be able to see the Duomo from my kitchen window.
Post office! I was sad, actually, when I discovered that this post office is two minutes from my home, because in order to obtain my permisso disigorno (the spelling is absolutely butchered) - permit of stay, I hiked to the far away main post office. For some reason, in order to get this permit, part of the paperwork needed is health insurance from the Italian government, which, again for reasons unknown to me, can only be obtained at the post office. Doing the paperwork is slightly frightening and overwhelming, even having a lot of help to do it. I can only imagine trying to get the papers all together and legal on your own and especially if your Italian isn't fluent. Also, laws and the issue of legality in Italy is interesting. Everything is this sort of grey area. There are lot of laws that one might accidently break on a daily basis, many of which are enforced and many of which are not at all. For example, it is illegal to feed the pigeons (not enforced), to buy knockoff's - ie. a fake Gucci purse (enforced, I've seen people running from the police with their purchases), and to stay in the city with no permit of stay (I've no idea whether this is enforced for not). Interestingly enough, even though it is illegal to stay without a permit and there is a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy involved in this process, as well as the process of imigration, there are large communities of squattors throughout the cities. Large groups of immigrants (I've never heard of such an Italian community, but they may exist) live in abandoned buildings and are provided electricity and water by the Italian goverment. I approve of this.
Anyway.
Buses are deadly. I almost get flattened by a bus at least three times daily. This looks right of my walk to school and you can just make out the hills of the countryside in the background! I love that cities here tend to not sprawl. There's a city and that is definitely a city. Then, you leave the city and you have certainly left it. It's nice to be able to leave Florence and come upon Tuscany directly.
These three pictures are of the piazza that I walk through everyday to get to SACI. The cafe I spend much time and not so much money at is in this square.
This picture looks back on my apartment from the piazza. The building on the corner jutting out is my pharmacy and the blocky modern looking buildling is the post office.
This is my cafe! I get a cafe latte or espresso here at least once per day. Whoever says you can't live on coffee and cigarettes is really just mistaken. The woman who I assume owns the place is really sweet and always speaks to me and I always respond although neither of us speaks the other's language. She's adorable. The man who is most often working there is named Gelato Man. This establishment also has gelato and for the first week or so my roommates and I ate it just about everyday. Thus: Gelato Man.
This is my favorite grafitti! Funny story about grafitti - my former roommate Jay (whom I adore and find hilarious) and I were walking home one night and she turned to me and said something to the effect of, "There's so much grafitti everywhere! Are we, like, in the ghetto or something?" No, Jay we are not in the ghetto. Jay is from LA. I use this as an explanation.
This is Eby's! They have burritos and wonderful cuba libres. I was very excited that rum and coke is called cuba libre in Italy as well as in Argentina.
Parking lot with fun colors. Also, awkward trash recepticle, which I could not figure out at first. Apparently, you have to push your foot down on a metal bar, in the same way that kitchen trashcans work, to open the lid. Who knew?
This is a cobbler's shop. Yes, they still have those. It always freaks me out because everytime I walk by it, I think it says "Hell Express." Luckily, though, it doesn't.
Man with a magic poncho. Also, the public library. Just for your information, this is walking up Via Dell Oriuolo.
Approaching the Duomo.
Two photos of fun grafitti in the Duomo piazza.
Scaffolding around the Duomo - everything in Florence is perpetually under construction. There is no end in sight to the restoration process here. It says a lot, I think about the culture of Florence in general. It's this sort of perpetual attempt to show and economize the past of the city. It's a shell of itself, of what it was at the height of power and aesthetics. However, I am finding, increasingly, that there is more to the city that just this. More on this later.
My view of the bell tower as I head towards SACI. This is walking in the direction of the baptistery.
Baptistery with its fake gold doors. Unbeknown to most people, the original golden doors made for the baptistery are in the Duomo museum, which I just visited, actually. It was quite nice and I highly recommend it. Included in it's collection is one of the Pieta by Michelangelo, which is one of my favorites. Here's a link, if you're interested: Pieta del Duomo.
Steps of the Duomo, perpetually covered in tourists with umbrellas (it's very rainy, this time of year.)
Aw.
View of Via de' Cerretani.
This store is everywhere! I don't understand why. Also, you may have noticed that mannequins in Italy are creepy and very sexualized. One of my friends here is doing a project on the topic. Stolen from her blog:
"You can’t really understand the entire concept unless you’ve seen European – specifically Florentine mannequins. The mannequins here are very sensual, sexy and clearly the idealized versions of man and woman. But what you might find odd is the way they are each unique. When I first glimpsed these mannequins (and as Florence is a fashioniste city there are many) I didn’t even notice the clothing on the mannequin, I was much too interested in the care, detail, and personality of each piece....A mannequin’s purpose is to show you how close sit on the body – but now marketing, the fashion world, and our own ideals have promoted mannequins into a realm of material idol worship. We don’t just want the clothes on the mannequins – we seek out the bodies of the mannequins." - Katie F.
I have to walk under this scary construction and sign everyday. So, I thought I'd give you a picture.
Love this grafitti.
Giant mobile phone? This is a place we tried to get internet, but found it to be too expensive. We eventually, after an epic struggle managed to get internet in our home. It's this very odd (to me, anyway) system similar somewhat to the phone system. In order to get internet, one can not just call up the equilivant of comcast. You have to buy a SIM card and modem, place the SIM card into a phone, order internet via the phone, and finally put the SIM card into the modem. This process took a very long time, seeing as that it was accomplished mostly by trial and error. The men from whom we bought the modem didn't really speak English and I don't speak Italian. Also, I got the vibe that they would have been only marginally more helpful if one of us were fluent in the others' language, but that is neither here nor there.
You may be asking yourself, "Is this a stand selling large, dangerous looking knives?" Yes, Virginia, it is.
I pass this museum everyday and I still do not understand it. I wonder if anyone ever goes into it.
This is the Riocafe, billed as "Florence's American Dinner." They have a picture of pancakes and a waitress on skates on their pamphlet. I haven't been, but I'm sure the day will come when I crave pancakes or a burger. I find it very humourous that it exisits.
Kebab! It's everywhere for some reason. I haven't gotten any yet, but I want to in the near future. I find myself missing Istanbul, which is odd because I spent so little time there. I just loved it, everything about it. I would love to go back and live there someday. I love the culture and I love the hookah and the chai and I miss it dearly. All I want in the world is to find a place to sit and drink a coffee and write and read and sketch. I'll let you know if I find one.
This is turning on Via. Sant Antonino and more grafitti that I adore.
View of S. Antonino. You can see San Maria Novella in the background.
SACI's door! The building is the home of the last pupil of Galileo. Which I think is super wonderful. I love SACI. Love and adore it. It's so different from Northeastern, in a number of ways. Firstly, its an art school. So that, in and of itself makes a huge difference. Also, it's tiny; we have less than 150 students in total. All of the professors seem to actually care about our lives. Which makes me dance. I really and sincerely hope that I can come out of this semester with some serious art stuffs and some equally serious plans to continue that work. Maybe it's simply because I'm here, but I am so in love with art. I love it and worship and covet it. I want it to always be a part of my life. I think if I went back to life in Boston as it was, it would be a grave error and slap in the face to this gorgeous oppurtunity. I feel like I've had the chance to play at having a different life and damned if I'm going to waste it.
Ciao for the moment, my friends.
So, yesterday, on my way to school, I took pictures of all the things I pass everyday and that I have love for. For bonus points, look up the map online and follow along. The satellite map on Google is exciting because you can see the Duomo and such.
So, this is the view from my kitchen's window. I live on the fourth floor on a place near Santa Croce, on Borgo Allegri. It's a bit further away from SACI then some of the other apartments other students live in, but it is quieter and feels more like a neighborhood. In the picture you can sort of see the park that's across the street. One of the few green places. I do love the city, but there are not particularly a lot of trees or plants at all, really. Also, there's a mosque down the street from me. Every now and then you can just catch the call to prayer. It reminds me of Istanbul, if only a bit. Later on, I'll have to post photos and stories from that venture.
At any rate, there's actually a hilarious story connected with the mosque down the street. When I first came to Florence, the keys I was given to get into my apartment didn't work. So, after some calls and some waiting, my landlady came to help me. This was my first introduction to what I have now realized is the typical Florentine older women. She came bustling up the street, wearing a long fur coat and fur hat. Presumably seeing me standing sadly with my luggage and two friends outside the door, she came up and introduced herself. When meeting Italians in more formal situations (ie - not in a bar), there's always this moment where they realize you're American and they remember that Americans don't do the kiss kiss greeting. You can almost see them, in that split second, trying to figure out the appropriate action. There is this leaning towards you, a pause, a large lean back and hand extension. It's quite awkward and hilarious and if you're ever in the situation, look out for it.
Anyway, so I'm meeting my landlady and she's nice and sort of grouchy in an adorable way. She lets us up into the place and proceedes to show us around. During this she manages to forget which one of the three of us is actually living in the apartment (several times), make sure I knew that it is really okay that people attend a mosque nearby (this spoken in a somewhat hurried and hushed way as if she were expecting me to move out on the spot), and light her fur coat on fire. All of this accomplished without pause and the full bearing of grace and gravity only a woman wearing a fur hat can accomplish.
This picture shows my door and also the abundance of scooters.
So, now walking away from my home towards the Duomo, past the park on the left. You can sort of see the Duomo in the corner above the buildings. Actually, if not for the trees in the park, you would be able to see the Duomo from my kitchen window.
Post office! I was sad, actually, when I discovered that this post office is two minutes from my home, because in order to obtain my permisso disigorno (the spelling is absolutely butchered) - permit of stay, I hiked to the far away main post office. For some reason, in order to get this permit, part of the paperwork needed is health insurance from the Italian government, which, again for reasons unknown to me, can only be obtained at the post office. Doing the paperwork is slightly frightening and overwhelming, even having a lot of help to do it. I can only imagine trying to get the papers all together and legal on your own and especially if your Italian isn't fluent. Also, laws and the issue of legality in Italy is interesting. Everything is this sort of grey area. There are lot of laws that one might accidently break on a daily basis, many of which are enforced and many of which are not at all. For example, it is illegal to feed the pigeons (not enforced), to buy knockoff's - ie. a fake Gucci purse (enforced, I've seen people running from the police with their purchases), and to stay in the city with no permit of stay (I've no idea whether this is enforced for not). Interestingly enough, even though it is illegal to stay without a permit and there is a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy involved in this process, as well as the process of imigration, there are large communities of squattors throughout the cities. Large groups of immigrants (I've never heard of such an Italian community, but they may exist) live in abandoned buildings and are provided electricity and water by the Italian goverment. I approve of this.
Anyway.
Buses are deadly. I almost get flattened by a bus at least three times daily. This looks right of my walk to school and you can just make out the hills of the countryside in the background! I love that cities here tend to not sprawl. There's a city and that is definitely a city. Then, you leave the city and you have certainly left it. It's nice to be able to leave Florence and come upon Tuscany directly.
These three pictures are of the piazza that I walk through everyday to get to SACI. The cafe I spend much time and not so much money at is in this square.
This picture looks back on my apartment from the piazza. The building on the corner jutting out is my pharmacy and the blocky modern looking buildling is the post office.
This is my cafe! I get a cafe latte or espresso here at least once per day. Whoever says you can't live on coffee and cigarettes is really just mistaken. The woman who I assume owns the place is really sweet and always speaks to me and I always respond although neither of us speaks the other's language. She's adorable. The man who is most often working there is named Gelato Man. This establishment also has gelato and for the first week or so my roommates and I ate it just about everyday. Thus: Gelato Man.
This is my favorite grafitti! Funny story about grafitti - my former roommate Jay (whom I adore and find hilarious) and I were walking home one night and she turned to me and said something to the effect of, "There's so much grafitti everywhere! Are we, like, in the ghetto or something?" No, Jay we are not in the ghetto. Jay is from LA. I use this as an explanation.
This is Eby's! They have burritos and wonderful cuba libres. I was very excited that rum and coke is called cuba libre in Italy as well as in Argentina.
Parking lot with fun colors. Also, awkward trash recepticle, which I could not figure out at first. Apparently, you have to push your foot down on a metal bar, in the same way that kitchen trashcans work, to open the lid. Who knew?
This is a cobbler's shop. Yes, they still have those. It always freaks me out because everytime I walk by it, I think it says "Hell Express." Luckily, though, it doesn't.
Man with a magic poncho. Also, the public library. Just for your information, this is walking up Via Dell Oriuolo.
Approaching the Duomo.
Two photos of fun grafitti in the Duomo piazza.
Scaffolding around the Duomo - everything in Florence is perpetually under construction. There is no end in sight to the restoration process here. It says a lot, I think about the culture of Florence in general. It's this sort of perpetual attempt to show and economize the past of the city. It's a shell of itself, of what it was at the height of power and aesthetics. However, I am finding, increasingly, that there is more to the city that just this. More on this later.
My view of the bell tower as I head towards SACI. This is walking in the direction of the baptistery.
Baptistery with its fake gold doors. Unbeknown to most people, the original golden doors made for the baptistery are in the Duomo museum, which I just visited, actually. It was quite nice and I highly recommend it. Included in it's collection is one of the Pieta by Michelangelo, which is one of my favorites. Here's a link, if you're interested: Pieta del Duomo.
Steps of the Duomo, perpetually covered in tourists with umbrellas (it's very rainy, this time of year.)
Aw.
View of Via de' Cerretani.
This store is everywhere! I don't understand why. Also, you may have noticed that mannequins in Italy are creepy and very sexualized. One of my friends here is doing a project on the topic. Stolen from her blog:
"You can’t really understand the entire concept unless you’ve seen European – specifically Florentine mannequins. The mannequins here are very sensual, sexy and clearly the idealized versions of man and woman. But what you might find odd is the way they are each unique. When I first glimpsed these mannequins (and as Florence is a fashioniste city there are many) I didn’t even notice the clothing on the mannequin, I was much too interested in the care, detail, and personality of each piece....A mannequin’s purpose is to show you how close sit on the body – but now marketing, the fashion world, and our own ideals have promoted mannequins into a realm of material idol worship. We don’t just want the clothes on the mannequins – we seek out the bodies of the mannequins." - Katie F.
I have to walk under this scary construction and sign everyday. So, I thought I'd give you a picture.
Love this grafitti.
Giant mobile phone? This is a place we tried to get internet, but found it to be too expensive. We eventually, after an epic struggle managed to get internet in our home. It's this very odd (to me, anyway) system similar somewhat to the phone system. In order to get internet, one can not just call up the equilivant of comcast. You have to buy a SIM card and modem, place the SIM card into a phone, order internet via the phone, and finally put the SIM card into the modem. This process took a very long time, seeing as that it was accomplished mostly by trial and error. The men from whom we bought the modem didn't really speak English and I don't speak Italian. Also, I got the vibe that they would have been only marginally more helpful if one of us were fluent in the others' language, but that is neither here nor there.
You may be asking yourself, "Is this a stand selling large, dangerous looking knives?" Yes, Virginia, it is.
I pass this museum everyday and I still do not understand it. I wonder if anyone ever goes into it.
This is the Riocafe, billed as "Florence's American Dinner." They have a picture of pancakes and a waitress on skates on their pamphlet. I haven't been, but I'm sure the day will come when I crave pancakes or a burger. I find it very humourous that it exisits.
Kebab! It's everywhere for some reason. I haven't gotten any yet, but I want to in the near future. I find myself missing Istanbul, which is odd because I spent so little time there. I just loved it, everything about it. I would love to go back and live there someday. I love the culture and I love the hookah and the chai and I miss it dearly. All I want in the world is to find a place to sit and drink a coffee and write and read and sketch. I'll let you know if I find one.
This is turning on Via. Sant Antonino and more grafitti that I adore.
View of S. Antonino. You can see San Maria Novella in the background.
SACI's door! The building is the home of the last pupil of Galileo. Which I think is super wonderful. I love SACI. Love and adore it. It's so different from Northeastern, in a number of ways. Firstly, its an art school. So that, in and of itself makes a huge difference. Also, it's tiny; we have less than 150 students in total. All of the professors seem to actually care about our lives. Which makes me dance. I really and sincerely hope that I can come out of this semester with some serious art stuffs and some equally serious plans to continue that work. Maybe it's simply because I'm here, but I am so in love with art. I love it and worship and covet it. I want it to always be a part of my life. I think if I went back to life in Boston as it was, it would be a grave error and slap in the face to this gorgeous oppurtunity. I feel like I've had the chance to play at having a different life and damned if I'm going to waste it.
Ciao for the moment, my friends.
