La Mia Dolce Vita

I was a movie star. Well, it felt like it anyway. Now, many people (as in my parents) used to tell me I was a drama queen or "such an actress" when I wanted to get something, but this was a different kind of acting, one in which I was like an extra on set but believed I was a lead character. It was last Friday. I usually don't have classes on Fridays, but I made my casual walk to school for my cinema class movie viewing.

Every morning when I take my usual route, I see the same three characters: the portiera of my apartment building, the portiera of the building next door and the old man opening his restaurant on the corner. It's as if my day wouldn't be complete if I didn't receive a smile and "buongiorno" from each. However, we haven't always greeted each other. It took them some time before they were used to seeing this new face in the neighborhood. I never knew how to get around their natural Italian skepticism, so I would flash a meek smile at first, and with time, they accepted me. But Friday, for some reason, they and some other regular characters who I often see on my routine walks all seemed to be in sight and recognizing me, saying 'goodmorning'.

This particular day I dressed in some dark pants and my favorite color: red. I looked only slightly glamourous, but my mood was certainly glamourous. If only I had the fashion eye like these vixen Italian women. But I was ready, as the lead character of this day unfolding before me. Nothing imparticular was planned except for an afternoon flight to Germany for the weekend.

I arrived at school to view a screening for my cinema class (a class I am more than happy to dedicate a free Friday to). It would only be two hours of my day and I still had the rest of the afternoon to think about before my flight. I had been preparing for this trip to Germany for over a month, so excited to see a different scenery.

But movies often contain some sort of dramatic event. Naturally, on this day Rome had other plans for my character. Outside the classroom I heard the music, the loud voices projecting from megaphones, and the change in atmosphere.

It was really beautiful day out. It was extra sunny and the city seemed to be moving at a very slow, relaxed pace for a Friday. I glanced out the window after the screening for class to see only a few cars in the usually busy street of central Rome. And there it was: a strike. I saw the parade of people headed down via Vittorio Emanuele II. 'This is serious!' I thought. When being warned by the staff at school of possible strikes, I took the matter lightly. But it is real. People really do go on strike here and before I knew it, I received a phone call confirming that my flight was canceled. While I was a little upset to know I wouldn't be headed to Germany after all, my ticket would be refunded, and I could watch this change in scenery from the window of my school as though a scene in a movie was at a climax. I looked in the other direction to see about 20 policeman lined up, shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the direction of the street of parading people. I realized they were guarding the Senate building (a block down from school) because they were voting inside.

In this case, all of public transportation was on strike! If I was to go anywhere, I must walk. No buses, trams, metro OR AIRPLANES! Certainly I could not walk to Germany. I had never seen anything like this which probably led to my main feeling of being in a movie. Leaning out of the window for ten minutes to absorb the action, I was trying to understand the situation. My life really wasn't affected other than having to move my trip. But for these people, their lives are affected by something beyond me. Whether their fight was important or not in the whole scheme of things, I witnessed their passion take a form, something that could teach me a thing or two of politics, of life, in general.

With the exception of losing transportation access if I needed it, I realized I have anything I need at my disposal. Isn't that how it is for actresses? When at home, I have a host mom who cooks for me whenever I want. At school, I enjoy going to classes (actors enjoy their work) along with the staff handling any of my necessary business. For instance, they are looking at my options for housing next semester, they have scheduled/organizzed events for my friends and I, and, well, should I keep going? Walking down the street, the occasional glance or recognition from the Italian men is sometimes enough to make someone from Ohio feel semi-quasi famous. And of course, Germany ... that can be done another weekend.


I left school to eat lunch at a nearby ristorante. As a regular part of my diet now, I ate my favorite salads and foccacia. I embraced my change of plans by having a relaxing lunch and good company - oh, with serenade included by a local and his guitar. In the piazza one street over is where the people on strike had gathered. Realizing it was too nice of a day to head home, I walked down the narrow cobblestone streets to come across a gorgeous old building. It has been standing for countless years, something obvious to any fortunate passerby. I wonder who lives there ... After admiring the frescoed ceiling from the outside looking in, I saw a poster on the building to my right. Ah, Nicole Kidman! It was a brief summary of the film she had been in at that spot. Not only did I feel like a movie was being filmed all around that day, but I was actually at a movie set from years before.


The poster, along with numerous others I've seen, belonged to the Cinema Festival which is an annual event in Rome. The festival only began a few years ago and my teacher informed me how they are getting their organization together as it is so new. It occurred several weeks ago in late October. There were scheduled premieres playing at the auditorium and other venues in which new films, along with old ones, were playing for almost two weeks. One venue was playing classic films, mostly with Sophia Loren. Ms. Loren was even scheduled for a press conference one day after a screening while many other stars walked the red carpet for the premiers. The one night I decided to check out the scene I saw Mira Sorvino being photographed incessantly as the rain had kept most others stars away.

I had realized during the cinema fest that maybe we are not all as star struck as we think we are. Perhaps in Ohio if I ran into someone famous I would be throwing a party over it ... but here, I am almost convinced I am making my own movie. Sounds silly, I know. But there are far other things to find interesting as everyday you pretty much walk a backdrop for some film. Other stars have become much less interesting as I live amongst them ... and well I, too, have become a star. ha.

Whatever I am while here, these characters that are frequenting the scenes are helping to familiarize my role. The portiera in his everyday green sweater and squinty-eyed smile that has managed to make me feel welcome after the first month of strange looks. They portiera next door who gives me the same half smirked smile as though he remembers the first time we saw each other; It was my first day in Rome and I accidentally walked in the doors of his building which must be a private residence (How could I have told them apart when they look the exact same and 30 feet apart?!). He pretty much told me I was lost before I could even realize it. Then there is the chef who works in the corner restaurant. His usual white apron and burning cigarette as the other workers clank around inside, preparing for the day. I wonder, are they labeling my character ... perhaps I will remain a mysterious movie star as I will soon move to another area of the city and lose them from my routine walk. My lifestyle(s) is/are forever going to be unknown to them.

The last blog was borderline starving-artist, like I was an actor without a job. So sad. Remembering how I felt the day I wrote such sappiness - knowing at the time I would eventually read what I wrote and call myself pathetic - has helped make me aware of this capability of making most events more dramatic than they sometimes are. Perhaps the people who know you are right when they label you as "a drama queen", etc., etc. I don't believe I was really miserable that day - only being dramatic because I was seeing Rome in a light I was not quite prepared for. My relationship with this city has only become stronger and stronger. Perhaps the honeymoon has ended, but I have made it to the next level in our relationship. No matter the situation, I win. Life is beautiful. I have la dolce vita.

Matter of fact, I have had some realizations in the past month about this temporary, sweet life. One of those was that I spend everyday believing that I cannot speak a language. I spend so much time trying to think of what I want to say in Italian that when I stop and remind myself that I am actually fluent in one language, I feel a little better. I suppose that is just another part of this role I'm playing, memorizing the lines I need to say before one day, when I know them so well I will forget the days of learning the script. I speak English everyday with other students and in three of my classes, but I had convinced myself that I didn't know a language. Apart from my American friends and classes at school, I spend a lot of time trying to do things on my own. I was hired to do conversational English with two Italian kids and when asked, I instinctively said 'yes' only to later doubt my capabilities of actually knowing the language. Haley, you are fluent in English. Oh yeah, phew!

My day on the movie set continued when my chauffeur took me to - in my eyes - the 'Manhattan' part of Rome. I was going to check out a possible apartment for the approaching semester. The scooter ride took about fifteen minutes as opposed to an hour car trip this day because of the increased traffic from no transportation. The area was charming and clean. A piazza full of trees was nearby with any necessities in a likeable distance. I seeked out the nearby coffee bars, grocery store, and bus stop.

The scene changed as I took a wrong turn up a hill/mountain. Within three minutes I was overlooking the entire city of Rome - St. Peter's dome seeming incredibly close. I remember smelling a campfire, which is something I haven't been around since the summertime in Ohio. I was taken aback by this city that tends to be as big or small as I want it. This 'movie star' lifestyle is unavoidable as Rome's charms are unavoidable at every turn (yes, strikes included). Pursuing the lifestyle - my own vision of what I want it to be, my own character - is simply up to me.

New places become familiar spaces

London. A two day stop in an enormous city across the world means to blink your eyes and ask, "where to next?" Of course by blinking I mean sleeping off most of the jet legg that got you there and then preparing to hop some more transportation between the blinks. Planes, trains and large coach busses. I have done them all ... multiple times now.

A three hour "sneaky peaky," as the tour guide referred to our trip around the city, left me with a few thoughts: 1)In some places it's not taboo to see a 12-year-old light up a fag in the street; 2) Paying in pounds could save you some pounds on your bumm (in other words, I don't fancy exchange rates and could hardly afford to eat those two days); and 3) Watching a posh news reporter in a square full of pigeons can be quite entertaining. After the reporter was forced to feed the pigeons by some locals, causing him to be trampled by the birds, he left me with a fun expression I use regularly with my friends - (insert British accent) "That is so rank!"

On a serious note, I found the city of London to be quite enchanting. The facade the town homes were consistent throughout, giving a pleasant feel to the city. The ancient architecture sharing grounds with newer buildings also gave the city beautiful skyline views. Needless to say, I look forward to returning to London and exploring it furthur ... on a bloody tight budget, of course!

Firenze. A temporary home, Florence is. A city which I think many people dream of making it a home permanently. It is a place that almost anyone will feel comfortable returning. The Florentine people are very kind and welcoming to students such as myself. The most challenging/exciting part of the day is attempting to communicate in Italian with the locals. Realizing they understood the few words you said gives a brief sense of achievement. Certainly, that feeling is only brief because your entire conversation turns to English. You then realize how easy you actually have it made. How convenient that so many people speak your first language?! And then you have another realization: If you really want to learn the Italian language, you are going to have to try much harder!

With it being week number three in Firenze, the new "things" have become familiar things. New restaurants/bars became favorite hangouts. New classmates became close friends. The first sight of the Ponte Vecchio, Duomo and hills became landmarks along the daily trips on foot. The fashionable outfits and to-die-for boots in store-front windows dwindle out to be only a few must-haves. Making changes and introducing new opportunities always welcomes the possibilty of new familiarities - ones which used to seem so unatainable.

A trip to Chianti. Breve was the town. What a fantastic experience! The 45-minute bus ride surrounded us by vineyards and quaint towns which offer the peace and quiet that one cannot find in Firenze. It was there that I was able to do my favorite thing - wine taste.

Cinque Terre. A Saturday afternoon was spent walking along the trail of Cinque Terre. These are five small villages along the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Pebble beaches. Postcard photographs everywhere you turn. "Amazing" doesn't justify this.

Siena. A unianimous favorite among my peers. Up on a hill sits this town - larger than those of Chianti yet much smaller than Firenze. Able to break away from the group of students I traveled with, I found a friend who I met earlier this year at my hometown University. Angela was born outside Siena and now lives there. I met here in Piazza Del Campo, the infamous square in which the horse race is held each year. After we hugged, we immediately walked her town and she showed me the flags of the neighborhoods (I believe it was 17 original neighborhoods represented, now there are only 13, and only 10 get to race). I saw the neighborhood of the winning horse with their flags hanging proudly and a picture of the winner posted on a main building. (Again, I believe Angela told me it has been close to 44 years since their neighborhood has won the race - something to be proud of in my eyes!)

I saw university buildings. I visited a church which carries an interesting story from the eightteenth century. The story goes, consecrated host was taken by thieves and returned several days later. The church's community was so happy to have these back, they did not use them right away. With time, the hosts have been held specially because they have not shown a sign of disintegration. Atleast one or two popes have ordered biological research to find an answer as to why these have remained in perfect condition. No special answer yet. I guess this is the definition of faith for many people, especially those of Siena.

We ate what was, according to Angela and now me as well, the best gelato in Siena. My flavors were yogurt and creme di caramel ... I am pretty sure I have dreamt about them since ...

The Duomo of Siena was the city's prized jewel, however. Known for it's impecable detailed floor and dedication to the Madonna - it was truly admirable. But beyond it's physique, I found it more admirable that the proud Siena people who built it long ago never finished the church. In fact, the church only made up the left wing of the pre-planned cross structure it was to become. Angela said there were big plans for a big church to be proud of. I even saw the columns that were to make up another wing of the church standing unfinished. As I said, the church that stands is a gem. Imagining it to be more ... it's uncomprehendable. So, lesson learned: Aim higher, dream bigger. Even if you don't reach the final goal, you will still end up with something to show for. (I think I need bigger goals!)

Angela took me to her favorite spot overlooking the hills below. We then went back to the main piazza. She pointed out the restaurant she worked in for many years. We said our goodbyes over a quick cup of espresso. As usual, I told her I would see her soon.

Venezia. No cars ... only calm sidewalks, bridges and gondolas for transportation. Museums worth seeing and shops on every corner. Truly romantic - almost anyone would agree. I think I will have to return with a husband someday. And that's all I can say for now!

Next stop: Rome. The familiarities that came with staying in Firenze are only ones to remember and possibly return to someday. Also, every other town visited now holds familiar memories to look back on. Now, I must start all over again in Rome. Time to meet the host mom. Start classes. Seek out friends. And most definitely seek out if my feelings for Rome remain as strong as they were when I left it a year ago ...

Perche Roma?

I was riding on the back of a vespa of a new friend ... of, say, three hours. Salvo. Salvo and I were zipping around the people on the narrow streets in Trestevere after a great dinner. One of those dinners that lasted about two hours longer than planned - one of those hours spent on waiting for the bill to arrive! This night was unfolding in the most perfect way. A whole new experience ... one I would've only dreamed of a week before.

I had never rode a Vespa before. I had never been to Roma. I had never rode on Vespas with brand new friends in a big city after only 1 day of having arrived! Talk about foreign. But this city, this ancient world away from home made me feel as though I belong, as though I have stepped foot on it's ground before. Talk about the most foreign-familiar feeling. It could have been the wine ... maybe the company of friends I was with.

The weather in March was only a little chilly to me, but certainly cold to an Italian. I sported a permanent smile the entire trip from the restaurant to our next destination. I'm pretty sure the smile was only partly due to the cool air hitting what bare skin I had and blowing into my jacket. Passing ancient statues (they are as frequent as trees in the States) and a lit up Colosseum calls for a smile ... probably not one as cheesy as mine, however.

Salvo, the Vespa and I parked ourselves outside a church near the center of the city. This church (and I say 'this' because we all know there are only a few in Roma :) ) is incredible. The church sits on this quiet street lined with several cars and Vespas. To get to the entrance we walked up a number of steps and entered a courtyard. OK, wait ... who goes to a church at 11:30 at night? Well ... I was soon to find out. Salvo, too.

Inside we were going to meet up with the three friends from dinner. Their taxi had not arrived yet. At this time, the night had been a blast. All of us were unsure of what to expect when we only heard of this little fiesta at the church. Now, I am a christian and am not someone to participate in anything sacrilegious. There was indeed a large gathering of people having a great time, dancing to music and having some beers and cocktails. Now, it was comforting to find that this church no longer held any worship. It was extremely old and vacant for numerous purposes. Telling others about "partying" in a church could cost a person some respect ... but I'm not sure how else to explain the situation. I suppose this is a perfectly appropriate time to use the phrase, "When in Rome..."!

So we stayed. We danced. Shared plenty of laughs. Had a drink or two. We met a fellow American who got a tatoo of a dinosaur on his leg earlier that day which caused plenty more laughs later on - especially since he snuck into all of our pictures! And yes, I said dinosaur! A dinosaur?! Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to certain things in life ... which leads me to say that the night was wild. Wild in the sense that we were only an insignificant representation in terms of our origins to the other globe trotters at this party. It was just wild. Wild because my life changed that night and I never saw it coming. Wild because being there - in Roma - made perfect sense.

Now, I am here, packing bags in Ohio, to venture back to the city I fell in love with a year and a half ago. I board the plane in nine days. Because I lived that night - the rest of that week, too - I am returning. I must pursue this city in which my heart wasn't stolen, but filled with a new sense of passion. A passion for all things Roman. A passion which I didn't pursue too quickly, because I wanted to do it right.

Hindsight has proven my feelings for Roma after that night were like those you find in a movie. The girl and boy meet, but circumstances only allow for them to realize they love each other and their meeting is cut briefly. They are, in all actuality, worlds apart and plenty of sacrifices must be made for them to spend just another day together. One of them decided they cannot live without knowing their story, their joint lives. Hence, Roma could not slip through my fingers so easily. I began telling those people close to me how I would return. There is something more for me in Roma and I simply could not settle with the idea of not pursuing such an opportunity. Certainly, I think many friends and family doubted my motives, thinking this was some sort of "puppy love" or "vacation high", if you will. They believed my feelings were genuine but returning for a whole year of school was not plausible.

I have trusted my heart. Now, I face what most relationships encounter - serious challenges, things I will wish I could change and people/places/experiences I know will leave my life when I am not ready for them to. Good or bad, happy or sad - I will be able to say I pursued this love of Roma. Now, I must live with the fact that I'm sharing this captivating city with many, many others. They are people just like me who were enticed by everything Roman and others who come from all corners of the earth just passing through. I am certainly not unique in Roma's eyes as it is used to such behaviors as mine. Then again, this is my own Romeo and Juliet story ... am I truly in love or is this simply infatuation? Only the future will tell. Surely, whatever the truth may be, Roma and I will not have as dramatic of an ending! I will be fortunate enough to walk away in the end a better, learned person (well, hopefully!).

After visiting the church hotspot, Salvo and I hopped back on his black scooter. We were ready to cruise - which, of course, means to weave in an out, up and down the narrow, cobblestone streets with an occasional honk for pedestrians - and find a way to not end such an awesome night with this group of new friends. It was then that we made our way to the Colosseum for more laughs. More cheesy smiles. Alla prossima, Italia!