ah crap...

it appears that my graphics card got burnt out on my laptop...

i guess pictureless posts will have to suffice until i can get to a place where i can upload...BAH!!!

rip powerbook...it's been a good 3 years...

London & Brighton - 4 days in England - 4 days of paying double for everything...

This is a bit out of order as I only had two days after getting back from southern Italy before I was off to London.

The best thing about London is that the museums are all free. On the other hand, everything else is ridiculously expensive (for Americans at least). Here are some of the weird price differences...(I hope my mom doesn't read this...she would probably kill me for some of the things I spent money on)

Bowl of Won Ton Noodle Soup w/ Roast Duck - £5.50 ($11)

Day pass for the Underground (zones 1 & 2) - £5.50 ($11)

Delicious "Kiwi Burger" (Egg, Cheese, Pineapple, Lettuce, Tomato, 1/2 lb. patty) w/ fries and a drink - £12.50 ($25!!!)

Standing room (I stood right next to the stage) ticket for Love's Labour's Lost @ Shakespeare's Globe Theatre - £5 ($10)

Train ticket to Brighton (approx. 1 hr. away) - £25 ($50) AHHHH!

So you see...while museums are free and a ticket to the best play i've ever seen, complete with rennaissnace minstrels, is only about $10...normal foods (I certainly could not afford fine dining in London) can be found for about half the price in america. And while, most of the price discrepancies are due to the currency exchange rate...the average wage in England is still only around £23,000. How do people survive??? Maybe that is why people say food is so bland in England...they go home and eat mashed potatoes and overcooked meat with onion gravy all the time because that is the only way to save enough money to take an occasional vacation. Sheesh!

That being said...London was amazing, and Brighton was like a glorified Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. Pretty nice all in all. Oh...and don't let the efficiency and ubiquity of the underground in London fool you...you still have to do a considerable amount of walking.

Jolly good then. Cheers!
Ted

Bonus Post!

Lauretta, the soprano in Giacomo Puccini's opera, Gianni Schicchi, sings this aria about her love, Rinuccio:

O mio babbino caro
mi piace è bello, è bello!
Vo' andare in Porta Rossa
a comperar l'anello
Sì, sì, ci voglio andare
e se l'amassi indarno
andrei sul Ponte Vecchio
ma per buttarmi in Arno
Mi struggo e mi tormento!
O Dio, vorrei morir
Babbo, pietà, pietà.

Which means:

Oh my dear daddy
I love him, he's handsome, he's so handsome!
I want to go to Porta Rossa
to buy the ring
Yes, yes, I want to go
And if my love is in vain
I would go to Ponte Vecchio
and throw myself into the Arno
I struggle, and I am tormented!
Oh God, I would rather die
Dad, have mercy, have mercy.

This opera is Puccini's only comedic story. As you can probably tell, Lauretta's father doesn't approve of the marriage (because Rinuccio's family did not recieve him well), but she loves him so much! Absolutely tragic isn't it? Well, he ends up assenting in the end, so it's not so bad afterall.

A few notes:
The Arno is the river that flows through Florence.
It passes under Ponte Vecchio ("ponte" means brige)
Goldsmiths line Ponte Vecchio which was built/rebuilt to connect the Palazzo Vecchio to the Palazzo Pizi
The Palazzo Vecchio was the original site of Michelangelo's David
Babbo is the Tuscan way of saying Dad - Papa is the standard way

And now for more pictures!

Ponte Vecchio.

Replicca of David where he originally stood at the Palazzo Vecchio.

Angry goat.

Look at how big the wine barrel is!

Me and Toscana's landscape - a view from San Gimignani


And that's that.

Ciao, ciao.
-Teo

La Dolce Vita

WAAH WAAH WAAH!

That's what my cell phone sounds like as the auto-snooze goes off for the third time. Great. Late, as usual. As my body drags itself out of bed before my brain has fully regained consciousness, the perfunctory motions of the "wake-up routine" never get easier, even though I practice them everyday. I stumble out of my room (which is the biggest i've ever lived in - even in America - ironic isn't it. See my first post for a picture) and find breakfast laid out on the table, as it always is.

"But I don't have time!" My mind screams to me.

I try to articulate my thoughts, and I try to tell Stella that they'll take a whopping 5% off my grade if i'm late to class more than 10 minutes twice in a term, but she just wont listen! Or is it that she just doesn't understand?

"I'm sure that it is OK." Stella says with a slight Italian accent, as she tries to reassure me that taking a little extra time to enjoy breakfast before school, rather than gulping some coffee down and taking a piece of toast to go, would be perfectly condoned by the school's administration.

I think to myself - yes, many of the schools faculty and staff are Italian. Yes, they understand and fully participate in the "dolce vita" way of life, but NO, they won't make exceptions! And somehow, Stella, as knowledgeable and cultured as she is, can't seem to comprehend that while Italy loves la dolce vita, we Americans can't live without deadlines, ultimatums, and efficiency.

I guess I should just stay home more, drink less, and get more sleep at night. NOT! HAHA - La Dolce Vita (eap style) includes late nights out and fraternizing with locals at contrada parties in addition to the long lunches and afternoon naps.

This weekend we went to the Opera, Florence, and San Gimignano. Sorry no pics of the opera, but we saw Madame Butterfly at the same lake where Giacomo Puccini was inspired and wrote the opera.

Me and my too-short haircut at the Rialto Bridge in Venice

Cool bridge across from the Ponte Vecchia (Old Bridge) in Florence

Shar Pei in Florence - who woulda thought!

Grapes, grapes and more grapes!

Cool winery we visited and toured outside of San Gimignano


More pics to come!
Ci vediamo a dopo. Baci.

-Teo

Come stai? Tutto bene?

41 days have past since I first set foot in Italy. Boy, it sure doesn't feel like it. While I do have pangs of homesicknesses and cravings for all flavors Asian, Siena has become home. I realize this every time I go on an excursion to another city, and especially when i'm kicking the soccer ball around with a few buddies in the dirt "field" we've converted into our grand stadium.

My proficiency in Italian has improved exponentially, the idiosyncracies of Italian culture are almost like second nature now, and my appetite for good pasta has not waned yet.

I think though, that there is much more that makes Siena home to me than recognizing a few locals by face and warmly being greeted with a "buona sera," or being able to weave myself through the local and tourist traffic on Via Montanini without knocking someone's gelato over or stepping on any toes.

It is probably deeper than how Siena, no matter how hot it is, is probably a few degrees cooler than any other city, or how the streets are immaculate compared to other places. Probably...but I can't put a finger on what it exactly is...

Sono Cinese Americano - di San Francisco e di Siena.

Nice ring to it.

Here's some pics of Venezia. Frank said that this place was the "most romantic place in the world. You will cream yourself there." When I asked him if he did, he answered "Yes. And I was single." Enjoy!


The train to Venezia was so fast and comfortable!

St. Mark's Square at night

Kids feeding the famous pigeons of Piazza di San Marco (the food has birth control in it)

"Bomba Mix" fruit at the Mercato di Rialto

The next generation gondolier.


Ciao tutti - Baci, baci!
-Teo

After an 18K Hike a couple bottles of Cinque Terre sounds good...

Stephen King says that if you want to be a writer, you must never use the prhase: "It was indescribable" - or something to the effect where one doesn't have the adequate vocabulary to accurately describe something. Good thing I am not planning on writing novels for a living becuase I am definately lacking the words to the beauty that is attributable to Le Cinque Terre.

Cinque Terre (Five Lands) is a succession of five coastal villages that are connected by an 18km hiking trail in addition to the train that runs through each town. From the naked eye, each village looks like a carbon copy of the other; which is a main boulevard running uphill that is lined with pastel colored buildings that encase not only residences for locals, but hostels, restaurants, markets, and souveneir shops alike. But from up-close, each village has its own flair.

The first stop off of the train from La Spezia is Riomaggiore. This village sits quietly in an understated ravine that winds up into the hills of Liguria. Mostly quiet during the day, the village is not much more than a quaint place to stay and enjoy the beautiful blue skies and sea breeze. At night, however, live music brings the sole Piazza in town to life with locals and tourists blending together dancing and enjoying the entertainment.

The next village, Manarola, is connected to Riomaggiore by an open air tunnel called Via dell' Amore (The Street of Love), aptly named after the paintings and drawings on the walls of the tunnel. Many other pledges of love and signs of promises of the heart can be seen as you walk through this tunnel. Manarola is also located in a ravine, however, part of the village is visable from afar as it is partially elevated onto a cliff.

Hiking to Corniglia is a bit more arduous. In the last leg of the trail, you are welcomed into town with a series of 368 steps. Corniglia is known for their wine and is the only village not located directly on the water. Instead, the village rests on a promontory that affords some of the best views of the Adriatic Sea.

The trail gets steeper as you progress onto Vernazza. However, the toil is made worthy when you enter a town, which, in my humble opinion has the best proportion of amenities for tourists to originality and quaintness. The village has a small protected harbor which has a tiny beach that many Italian and foreign tourists swim at. If you are a competant swimmer, there is a quay that wraps around a precipice where you can jump off and swim accross to another cliff. There you can jump or dive about 8 meters into an area of deep water. Just make sure there are no jellyfish first!

After one more trail, you reach Monterosso, by far the most resort-like of all the villages. The hike to Monterosso winds its way through vinyards and orchards and is very steep and very narrow at times. Since views that are just as good can be seen from the trail between Vernazza and Corniglia, I would only recommend this hike to be able to say you hiked through all five towns. Monterosso is bordered by an umbrella covered beach that costs a few Euro for an entry fee.

I thought this pic was pretty cool.

The steps leading up to Corniglia

View of the train tracks from the top of the steps.


Liguria is home to Pesto alla Genovese, the original and best pesto, great wines, and delicious foccacia. If you ever have the chance to visit the area, stop by Cinque Terre. You won't regret it.

Ciao!
-Teo

Europe Does Not Care About Personal Space

Sorry! Excuse me! Pardon me!

You hear those phrases quite often in America when you walk down a busy street. However, in Italy, and the brief stop I had at the airport in Amsterdam, it seems as though everyone here in Europe has a serious lack of regard for personal space. "Scusa" and "Scuzi" exist in the Italian language for a reason, but apparently they've fallen into disuse! Be sure to keep your shoulders set and walk with a forward lean if you don't want to get decked during rush hour pedestrian traffic. You might bump into a few people, but I've learned that it pays to walk with purpose here, rather than aimlessly, as most tourists do.

On another note regarding personal space, is it just me or does it seem like nobody (at least the guys) minds spooning upright while standing in public transportation? I can recall a few times on the Metro in Rome (which completely sucks by the way) and on the buses that I was the big and little spoon at the same time, while I was clutching onto my bags like they were bedposts er...pillows.

Anyways the twins travelled a very long time to see me in Siena, so I took them around Siena and to a Jazz concert hosted by Contrada della Tartuca.

This was Pantera's secret little meeting hall for the Contrada. Pretty crazy that we got to tour it. The leopard in the back has such crazy details. It's about 20 feet wide and 6 feet tal.

She was playing yazz flute!!!

Ariane wanted to take artsy photos, but we look like ants!

San Domenico Church from the south side. The sun wasn't quite setting yet, so it just looks like a bright ball of light behind the church. Weak.


So, yes. No such thing as personal space. It is annoying. Plus, people have mad B.O. here. However, I'll save their lack of hygiene for another post.
Arrivederci mi amici.
-Teo

Reflections on Roma

12 years ago, I went to Rome and Florence with my mom and brother. We only stayed for 5 days, so everything was in fastforward, but I do remember the magnificence and grandeur of the half-modern, half-ancient city. During my trip to Rome this past weekend, I was able to appreciate the significance of the art and architecture more than I was able to when I was 10 years old. However, I noticed other things about the city as well. Quite noticibly, graffitti lined the walls of the bus terminal as we rolled into town. And on the Metro trains. And on various buildings around the city. Even the Coloseum had some tagging on it.

The city was abound with street hustlers, knick-knack pedlers and gypsies all soliciting their "Frada" bags or pleading for loose change. (Note: Be careful about how free you are with your change in Euros. Using American change like Euros would be integrating silver dollars or double-silver dollars into everyday use.) I did not, however, get a baby thrown at me in some wild scheme to steal my bags. That would have been interesting though.

It is a shame to see the beautiful melange of cultures and time periods that is Rome, defaced and laden with the social refuse of many nations. (Illegal immigrants who could not find work in their contries of origin have found that the fraudulent designer bag industry in Rome and other urban Metropoli is quite profitable.) I am not going to turn this blog into a discussion of social welfare and humanitarianism, so here, enjoy these pictures:


Battillions of sunflowers stand at attention in the fields of Tuscany

1 liter of house wine between 2 good freinds = Good Times

The Pantheon is HUGE. 'nuff said.

A ray of light shines down through a window at St. Peter's Basilica

The famed Coloseum


Next trip is Cinque Terre. Hopefully i'll get in a post before then.
Ciao!
-Teo

The Palio: Pt. 2 (late post)

As I mentioned earlier, Siena has two Palios. Tomorrow's is the Palio di Provenzano. This festival is in honor of the Madonna of Provenzano, a painting of the Virgin Mary, which was supposed to have miraculous curative power. To put it into perspective, this is not merely a costumed horse race held in the center of town. The Palio represents the former greatness of the Republic of Siena, the centuries old kinship ties between the members of each contrada, past enmities, alliances, and much much more.

This year, Chiocciola (the Snail) and Tartuca (the turtle), who are sworn enemies, were the favorites for the title. Unfortunately, Chiocciola’s horse was injured at the very first trial run for the Palio. (There are four in total).

After each evening Prova (trial run), there is a dinner in each contrada. I was fortunate enough to be invited by my host mom to attend Drago’s “Cena Prova Generale.” At this dinner, about 300 guests attended - most of whom were happily innebriated by the time the antipasto was served. Girls and boys of all ages took turns singing the contrada song and clapped their hands and pounded their tables with glee.

After having dinner with what felt like one big happy family, why more cities aren't split into contradas. It really is a good system.


Civetta's (the owl) horse and caretaker.

Part of the garden in San Domenico church. (after dinner)

Me and my host mom, Stella.

The kids are just making a friendly hand/arm gesture to a rival contrada.

Nicchio was also a favorite. They are a large contrada. The scarves that they are waving were given to them at birth, signed by the captain of the contrada.


Ciao, arrivederci.
-Teo

Palio di Siena

Every year, on July 2 and August 16 (each one is separate from the other), 60-70,000 people fill the central plaza of Siena for a horse race called the Palio. Three laps are completed around the Piazza del Campo, which is approximately 300 meters in circumference. The jockey's, who are like mercenaries, hired by the contradas for ridiculous sums of money, whip the horses and each other with whips fashioned out of calf phalluses. In approximately 80 seconds from the start of the race, over 800 years of tradition, 365 days of anxious anticipation, and all of the love, hate, sadness and joy in the 10 participating contrade (there are 17 total) culminate and are suddenly released as the third lap is finished. There is no filter for emotions in this 4 day event. The exultation the winning contrada experiences is equal to the shame and heartsickness the losing contradas feel. Think of the Warriors winning the Championship, the Giants winning the Pennant, and the Niners winning the Superbowl, all in one year. Times 1,000.

This is a parade for Contrada Onda - the Wave

The Unicorn Contrada - Leocorno

Onda again - they are indoctrinated as babies!

I apologize for my previous posts being a bit verbose. I haven't done any creative writing since way back in beginning fiction, freshman year. Thanks for visiting!

Ciao ragazzi. A presto mi amici!
-Teo

Look up "beauty" in a dictionary and it'll read: See Toscana

On Saturday I went to a small town called Rapolano with my host mother. We spent several hours at a hot spring resort on the outskirts of the town and then took the long way home, touring the Tuscan countryside. The drive was absolutely marvelous. The gentle rolling hills lined with cypress and the ginestra scented air transported me out of my body and into place of peace. Villas and vinyards dot the landscape every few kilometeres, and blend into the tranquil nature of the warm countryside. I hope these pictures can bring you to a peaceful state as well:

On the right, you can see the type of earth which is called "le crete." This is just a small valley with a lake hidden amongst the foliage.

The trees that line the rim of the landscape are cypress. They are typical of Tuscany.

Chiusure (pronounced "kee-yoo-soo-ray") is a small village just southwest of Asciano.

Olive trees line the highways of Tuscany.

This is Monte Oliveto Maggiore, an abbey built in 1313. It is located southwest of Asciano as well.

Freakin' people got into my shot of the main church in Asciano.

Well, I hope you enjoyed these pictures. They really do not capture the true beauty of Toscana, but it's just a little taste, hopefully to lure you here.

Ciao!
-Teo

Old World vs. New World

Via de Montanini (shot from the southern tip facing northward)

The streets in Italy are crazy. Meandering this way and that, the seemingly haphazardly drawn boulevards are shared by pedestrians, automobiles, bicycles, and even creatures that don’t use feet as their primary mode of mobility – pigeons. This inefficiency that is a result of what I previously thought was a lack of planning and forethought causes traffic, a great potential for accidents, and a great deal of frustration for foreigners, like myself, in trying to gather one’s bearings. The Italians don’t seem to mind.

So for the past few days, I have been walking down a path that led to the eventual revelation of the myriad significance that lies within the spider web-like mesh of infrastructure that marks Italy, and probably much of the rest of Europe. America, or the New World, as the first to arrive from Europe dubbed it, is a land that is comparably recent in the development of its cities and other physical aspects of societal framework. Irvine, where I’ve spent my last 4 years, is the quintessential modern city; in fact, it is known as the very first completely planned city. As a result of America being an automotive society, simply stated, without a car in Irvine, you’re screwed.

Is the difference that simple then, you ask? America is newer, thus the streets are straighter? Maybe. The roads in Europe were meant for pedestrians, horses, wagons and coaches when they were built, and are not as suitable for auto traffic. In contrast, as Manifest Destiny sent the pioneers west in America, many cities consisted Main Street and that was it. As they grew more populated and prosperous, they grew outward and by this time, two-way wagon traffic was more common than before.

A map of the center of Siena

Is one better than the other? I don't know. I do know I have almost been clipped by side-view mirrors of trucks a good number of times, but I also know that it is pretty grand getting anywhere I need to go without a car. Now for some more pictures:


(The view from the end of the main corridor) A view of my bedroom shot from the window side The beautiful and timeless Piazza del Campo


Till next time, ciao!
- Teo