Whirlwind

I arrived in the Rome airport of Italy yesterday, Monday, August 29 after an 8 hour cramped plane ride next to a couple that was honeymooning. ick. For anyone who says plane food is bad, you must try Italian plane food. We had gnocchi, which is a type of potato pasta, kind of like little pasta pillows that melt in your mouth. An amazing tomato sauce that could rival Rao's-and you know I could practically drink that stuff. I then wound up spending 5 hours in the airport waiting for the next flight for Umbra to arrive. Just me and my 112 pounds of clothing. I brought everything-again, referencing the Paris Hilton syndrome. 

Five hours later, plus a three hour bus ride to Perugia, I arrived at the hotel in Perugia and met my roommates. Alex, who goes to Northeastern and is from Long Island, Sara, who goes to Elon and is from D.C., Angela goes to Stonehill and is from Boston, and Kelley is from Texas and goes to Austin University at Texas. Oh, and that evening at the hotel, we had gnocchi, again. 

The next day we woke up at 9am and moved in to our apartment. It is two buildings down from one of the buildings for our school, and is one block from piazza novembre, which is the center of town and has many restaurants, gelato shops, stores a huge fountain and a church. We got really lucky. Our apartment is beautiful. I feel like Eloise in the Plaza, only more italian. It  has marble floors and 20 ft tall ceilings that are molded on the top with gold. There are huge french windows that stretch the entire floor to ceiling and have sheer long white curtains that billow out  in the breeze. The kitchen is furnished sparingly but it has basically everything we need: refrigerator, washer, sink, table with 5 chairs, a large sofa and two arm chairs. The bathroom is similarly very modest, but I was definitely grateful for what we did have. There are two doubles and a single. Angela and Sara have the double on the far end of the apartment next to the bathroom, it has carpet, tall ceilings, and is on the smaller side. Alex has the single, which has pink carpeting, a bookcase etc. Kelley and I live in the large double near the front door, with two huge long windows that we keep open, a marble floor, a vanity table where we do our makeup, a wooden table and chairs, a hugggge wooden wardrobe to hang our clothing- it has two sections, and kelley was nice enough to let me have the large one since I brought more than double what she did. too much. There are two single beds and a fireplace too. It's more than perfect. I can only compare it to a very old fashioned and grand apartment that has gone slighty to seed in old age-like the von trapp house in sound of music. (such a dork). 

That morning, as we were moving ourselves in, the doorbell rings. When we finally figure out how to open the giant wooden door, we see a blondish italian man of about 30 years old standing there. He is wearing a denim shirt that is embroidered with the word "L'acqua" which is the italian word for water. It basically looks like a uniform. He knows no english, we know no italian, but with a few words here and there we somewhat understand each other. His name is Marco, and he calls to his friend Evan (spelling?) who also works with him and is much younger and much (x ten) cuter. They are very friendly and they mime that they want to come in and ask if it's okay. Since they're so polite we let them in, and they ask for the kitchen. We show them and they look around but don't particularly do anything. They then count our heads (uno, duo, tre...etc) and leave. .........Only to return 30 mins later with espresso shots for all of us. They sit at the table in the kitchen and we all drink our espresso (ew) and we try to talk to one another. It's surprising how much you can understand by guessing and hand gestures. It was a great first moment in italian, especially when Marco goes, "Obama!" and does a victory gesture. We indicate we like he too and the two italian stallions chant for Presidente Obama some more. Guess they're a fan.