Un buon weekend

“A good weekend.”   Yup, Italians use the word “weekend” too.

Last Thursday morning brought with it an old friend, Becca, and a new friend, Juliet.  I study with Becca in Chicago, but this semester we are both studying abroad and she met Juliet at her host school.  Much to my delight, they both came for a visit this weekend.  We tried to work out the rendezvous point online before they flew out of their country because they wouldn’t have internet access after they left and we would not be able to call each other.  (Even so, I gave them my phone number.  You never know when it’ll come in handy.)  Unfortunately, when I told them where to meet me in the train station, I was not remembering exactly correctly the layout of the station, so the staircase I directed them to did not exist.  Oops.  We looked for each other for rather a long time before they called me from a pay-phone they found and we were able to talk; we found each other soon after.  It was the beginning of a fabulous and memorable weekend.  I introduced them to Italian cappuccinos and marochinos.  We visited the Castello Sforzesca and a few museums inside, one of which houses the "Pieta Rondanini," Michelangelo's last sculpture--unfinished--before he died, and a room painted by Leonardo da Vinci.  I took them to Chocolat, the best gelato place in Milano, and the only place I've found that sells lemon-basil gelato.  Holy smokes--so good.  The Duomo was a given, and we picked up some good luck by spinning three times with our right heels in a hole in the floor of the center of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II--kind of like a fancy-pants Italian shopping mall right next to the duomo.  It has Prada, Louis Vuitton, Dolce & Gabbana, McDonalds... you know, all the major players.

The Pieta Rondanini.  It depicts Mary taking Jesus down from the cross, but when you walk around it, it looks like Jesus is carrying Mary's weight.  Notice Mary has part of a second face.

Leonardo da Vinci's "Sale della Asse."  So intricately detailed.

Us! ...and the duomo.

We had pizza, handmade in front of our very eyes and cooked in a huge wood-burning oven by men who were very happy to be able to speak Arabic with Becca.  The last night and pasta with pesto and traditional Milanese Christmastime bread/cake, panettone.  The pasta was orrecchiette, which means "little ears" because it's shaped kind of like little ears!  It was absolutely lovely to be able to catch up with Becca and just spend time with her.  I really appreciate sharing space with someone.  Even if we're not talking, we're together in the same place at the same time, and that experience cannot be reproduced or simulated, no matter what kind of communication technology is available.  It reminds me in a way of what a famous fiction author described as "kything." (Anyone? Anyone?)  I think sometimes more goes on than meets the eye.

It was hard to say goodbye.

I will leave you with a couple public transportation Funny Moments:

1) One night, Juliet and I went out to get a bottle of good ol' Italian wine, and after a successful pickup, we returned to the sidewalk and looked back to see the bus we wanted to take a block behind us, doors already open.  We knew we couldn't run back a block and catch it before the doors closed and the bus started moving, so we started running forward, hoping to make it to the next stop in time.  Facing the street on the sidewalk ahead of us stood a woman.  She glanced over, saw us running in her direction, froze for a second, and then turned and ran the same direction we were running!  Juliet and I were a little confused but we kept on going.  When we were close to the stop, we stopped running, and the woman stopped at about the same time we did.  We got on the bus, and I don't know if she did or not; I lost her in the group of people at the stop.  Strange.

2) In Chicago, if the doors of the L start to close and something blocks them from closing all the way, they bounce back open.  Good system, I think.  Well, I was in a hurry at one point, and ended up running to an underground metro train.  Juliet was going to visit a friend in Florence for a day, and she had forgotten some readings for class that she wanted to read during the train ride.  We were at the train station and I didn't know if we could go back to my apartment and make it back before her train left, so I decided to go back myself.  That way if I couldn't get back in time she would still be able to catch the train she had bought a ticket for.  So I was rushing to the right metro line and saw that the train was there right then.  The doors started to close as I was sprinting towards them and with every thought focused on making in inside that train car, I dramatically leaped forward.  I'm sure it looked so cool that if it was in a movie, I would be an action hero flying forward in slow motion.  Right up until the doors closed on me.  Really hard.  And didn't bounce back open.  I had my head, one shoulder, and one leg inside the train, some squished internal organs, and the rest of me still on the train platform.  There were a few men standing in the train close to the door I was stuck in, and their shocked faces would have been really funny if I had had time to enjoy them.  I saw the man standing closest to me instinctively jerk forward to try to help pull me into the car, then hesitate as if unsure what to do.  I clearly wanted to be on the train, but it most likely would have been easier to extract myself if I just went back onto the train platform.  The doors were really tight, and he could probably see that either direction I went would end up being painful, so he didn't want to touch me.  But there was no way I was not going to make that train.  I weaseled my way forward, and if it was in a movie, I would be a cartoon squeezing my way forward through something so tight my eyes would be bugging out of my head.  But I made it!  I got through and stumbled forward as the doors snapped shut like the jaws of a predator angry that it lost it's prey.  Even though the episode happened very quickly--within a few seconds--literally everyone within line of sight was staring at me, and there were a few mouths agape.  I do love a dramatic entrance.  I popped back up into a normal standing position, flashed everyone a smile to show that I was not hurt, and calmly walked over to a pole to hold onto for the ride.  All the seats were filled and honestly, who wants to lose their balance while standing on public transportation?  That would just be embarrassing.