Spoleto

Last weekend my coworker Christine and I had a “girls weekend” with two of our students on the trip, Cherice and Natalia. It was Cherica and Natalias’ very first “girls weekend” and we wanted to make it worth their while. Working at and Italian school in the states tends to come inhandy when traveling through Italy. We have been very fortunate to have various connections to events throughout the country. A parent of La Scuola and former Italian

ballerina was able to get us tickets to see a modern/ contemporary dance show in a small town called Spoleto. Spoleto is about an hour and a half away from Perugia by TrenItalia and is most famous for it’s summer music festival; Festival dei Due Mondi (Festival of Two Worlds). The festival occurs each year from June through July and we were able to take part in the last day of the festival. Festival dei Due Mondi celebrates the arts from opera, dance and music, to paintings, drawing and sculpture. The show we had tickets to was located inside Teatro Nuovo Gian Carlo Menotti, the largest theatre in Umbria housing 800 seats. We were seated in a box, which though very unique, did not provide for easy viewing pleasure. We spent most of the show moving around the couple seated in front of us to get a better view. After the show was over we had a long time before our train back to Perugia and while walking through the ancient town, enjoyed a Gelato and an Aperitivo at the local Enoteca or wine bar. For those of you who may not know what an aperitivo is, I can first begin to explain it as true Italian experience and one of my favorites at that. An aperitivo is literally supposed to be a pre-dinner drink and many restaurants and bars all throughout Italy have aperitivo from about 7 to 9 every evening. For approximately 6 Euros, you can buy yourself a cocktail and a free snack comes alongside it. Some bars serve up chips and nuts while others provide a plate overflowing with fresh foccacia breads or other goods baked onsite that day. There are also traditional Italian beverages that can be sipped during an aperitivo such as Campari, Martini, and Aperol. My palate isn’t as sophisticated for these palate-cleansing drinks, so I usually play it safe with vino rosso o bianco. All in all, aperitivo is a classier version of happy hour, one that should be frequented more in The States.

Vita di Perugia

Organic Market

Palazzo Dei Priori

Arriving safe and sound in Perugia on July 2^nd, my coworkers, students and I settled in to the Foresteria San Franesco on Via A. Pascoli…which can also be defined as a true college dormitory. Though it’s been quite some time since I’ve shared a bathroom and had a roommate, it has been a reminiscent experience of life in the Ledges dorm at Quinnipiac. Once we all unpacked and got comfortable we set out to do some exploring and of course, eating.

The city of Perugia doesn’t have the striking antiquities Rome encompasses but is still a beautiful, quaint town set in the "cuore verde d’italia” (green heart of Italy) in the Umbria region. A new fact I learned this past week is that Italia is divided into twenty regions and Umbria is in the central part of Italy. The city of Perugia is fairly small and is known to be a city of art, history, monuments and culture of Etruscan and Roman decent. The center of the city (or centro) is best known for Palazzo Dei Priori and it’s Fontana Maggiore. Once the sun goes down and the candles are lit, the city center is filled with people both young and old dressed in their best, strutting their stuff down Corso Vannucci with the main goal of eating, drinking and living la dolce vita.

During our first week, we went to the Univerista per Stranieri Perugia to take an Italian language entrance exam. Much to my amazement I placed into an intermediate Italian language class after a written and oral exam. However, after two days in the class I soon realized there’s a lot of Italian that I still do not know and I switched into the level below. Having learned all of my Italian knowledge studying abroad in Rome, I seem to have kept it hidden in the back of my brain for the past four years. I quickly discovered that ho capito anche ascolto piu parlo…I can understand and listen more than I can speak. Since the entirety of each class is only spoken in Italian, I’m going to take a walk on the wild side and guess that I’ll be speaking it in no time.

Ciao! Ciao!

Welcome back! After a brief school year hiatus, I have decided to start writing once again. Last summer I was blessed with one of the most amazing experiences of my life volunteering in South Africa, and this summer I have been awarded another exciting adventure. For those of you who may not know, this past school year I worked at La Scuola d’Italia in New York City. La Scuola is the only Italian bilingual school in North America and proves to be the home for many elite Italian children. As per request of the Italian education system, they would like all of La Scuola d’Italia English teachers to also become fluent in Italian. La Scuola has been kind enough to provide me with this new journey and is sending me to learn Italian for the month of July. Today begins this new adventure, and I will be traveling to Perugia in order to better my Italian language skills. Hopefully I will come home with a little more than Perugina chocolates.

I am because we are

“Our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children’s futures. And we are all mortal.”

–John F. Kennedy 1963

Change. Not many people are okay with the word or the action. Personally, I think change is good. It’s fine to be scared of change, to feel unsure, but at the end of the day you have to realize that everything in our life changes. On the flight back to New York, I watched a documentary called “I Am Because We Are.” It was written and produced by Madonna, and brings to life the situation in Malawi Africa, the third most impoverished country in the world. In the film, she highlights the amount of children who have lost their parents from HIV Aids. Out of the 12 million people living in Malawi, one million are orphan children. As I watched, I began to think about my experience working in the township. In the beginning, I was worried that I should be back in America helping out on my own soil. Selfishly, I want to travel the world and would have probably gone to teach anywhere but in the United States. This documentary depicts how no matter where we are, or what we do, we are all humans. We all need food and water to live, we all need shelter to keep us warm and we all “bleed the same color”. By helping the children of South Africa, I am helping our world. We all live in this world together and we should all want to make it a better place. As cliché as it sounds, I honestly just want to be a part in changing the world and making it better. The thought of going back home to “reality”, to work and find a new apartment in the big city is exciting…but I’m not sure it’s what I “need” anymore. Every person in this world needs a chance and in the situations that I’ve seen and experienced over the past month, not everyone gets a chance. At the Wes-Eind school there were several boys who would walk around all day long. No one told them to go to class, they misbehaved whenever they were in class, and could not even add and subtract. When Nick and I asked a group of them why they’re never in class they would shrug, laugh and not seem to care. We asked them what they want to do when they grow up and they just laughed. One of the boys responded by saying he’s just going to work on a farm…. most likely following in his parent’s footsteps. The other two boys didn’t really even have a response. There is no one around to tell them to dream big…. to even dream for that matter. No one shows them that there is more to this life and that they can be confident, intelligent and successful. These kids, and every child need to be told to dream. The problems in this township and the majority of the impoverished parts of Africa are obviously far beyond my measure and control, but if everyone took some time out of their day to pay attention to the world around them, we will all help each other. All it takes is change. I’d like to be that change. Think about it, I am because we are.

So I leave Africa knowing that I’ve helped in some small way, but that it’s just not enough. I plan on working for The Kusasa Project again in the near future and trust me… I will be back.

Last Days of School

On August 5^th and 6^th Nick and I had one of the hardest jobs of this volunteering experience… saying goodbye to the kids and staff at Dalubuhle and Wes-Eind Primary Schools. When we arrived at Dalubuhle, all of the students and faculty congregated in their gym/cafeteria room. The teachers spoke to the students in Xhosa, the students said a prayer, and then we heard our names…”Miss Jen and Mr. Nick.” One of the teachers turned to us and said the school’s choir (we didn’t even know they had one) has prepared a few songs to say goodbye to us. In that moment, before they even started singing, I felt that feeling in my stomach and knew the tears were about to flow. After they sang a few songs for us, one of the other teachers told us we had to go in the middle and stand before the entire school. When we did, a teacher we had never even met greeted us and said the most wonderful things about how they were grateful to have us at their school for the month and how they’d never forget what we’ve done. (Insert tears now) Then she proceeded to wrap a beautiful beaded necklace around my neck and bracelet on nicks wrist. It might be the most meaningful gift I have ever received. I will cherish it forever. After a few photos with some students and faculty, the children went back to class, and we drove away in The Kusasa van.

Our goodbye at Wes Eind was slightly different. Nick and I held a contest during one of the days we were substitutes and had to give out prizes to three students. When we got to school, we met with the teachers for their daily meeting and the principal was so kind as to thank us for our efforts and tell us we’re welcome back anytime. After that, we walked to the fifth and sixth grade rooms to hand out our prizes and say goodbye. Just before we left the sixth grade room, I pointed to a few of the boys who’d been playing kickball after school with us and told them they have to keep playing even though we’re not around. I really hope they do. When we were walking out, I saw that same group of boys I’ve mentioned in a previous post… the boys who never go to class, and who don’t have basic reading and math skills. This time Nick, Sintu and I walked over to the group. Sintu asked them why they weren’t in class and they bowed their heads, giggled, and began speaking in Afrikaans. We don’t know any Afrikaans. Sintu walked to the nearest classroom to find out why these boys were not in class. While he was doing that, I somehow influenced them in saying that they need to be in school to learn, and they need to learn in order to have a better life. After a few minutes I convinced the three to follow me, I’d take them back to their classrooms and explain to the teacher that they were sorry and they are ready to learn again. I was shocked when they didn’t say anything and all followed me. The first stop was the sixth grade classroom where two of my friends needed to go. I knocked on the door and when the teacher came out she gave one look at the boys and rolled her eyes. I politely said, these guys just want to apologize to you for their behavior this morning; they’re ready to learn and would like to come back to class. The teacher looked at the two boys and then at me and began yelling about how disruptive they are when they’re in class, how they never do anything and they’re bullies…on and on and on. Then she informed me she kicked them out of class a few days ago and they’re not allowed back in until they bring their parents to school. In that moment it took everything I had inside of me to not yell back at this teacher and make her take these boys back in to class. Unfortunately for children like Darryl and Jason who most likely act up in class because they don’t understand… they’re going to get lost in the shuffle. I can tell you right now, they are NEVER going to tell their parents what happened and that they need to go to school. They’re going to “go to school” so their families think everything is okay, but after a few weeks they probably won’t be allowed on the property. And then what? Will they get lost in a world of drugs and abuse? Will they ever learn to read and write? Can they even get a proper paying job? I’m okay with taking a guess and saying no… they won’t. And I’m definitely not okay with this. The principal needs to be efficient and give the boys some type of in school suspension so at least they’re doing something! I’ll go as far as to say that he should drive them during the school day to their parents house, or wherever their parents work to tell them what happened. How… how on earth, in good conscience can these teachers just let these boys go? It breaks my heart, and it’s not okay.

We left Wes-Eind, and the boys stayed… wandering around the property. In that moment I knew my job here wasn’t done. I’m not finished with these two schools, and I don’t want to leave… ever. Call me crazy, but it’s my new mission in life to help boys like Darryl and Jason. To give these kids a chance. To tell them to dream and dream BIG. To teach them to want more than what they’re given, and that it’s fine to wish for a better life. I’m not prepared to leave South Africa, but I can assure you I’ll be back. And I… can’t… wait.

Shamwari Game Reserve

Continuing our road trip across South Africa and about 5 more hours, our final destination was to the Eagles Crag Lodge at Shamwari Private Game Reserve. Getting to the lodge was half the adventure, as we had to drive literally through the game reserve in a vehicle that could not stand up to the bumps, narrow road and possible animals we would pass. Needless to say we survived the terrain, met our ranger Mushi, and went out on our first game drive just as we arrived at the lodge. We were completely spoiled and saw lions and a leopard on our first drive! In the middle of each game drive our ranger Mushi would pull up to a scenic view and we’d have some drinks and a snack. Once we finished our “sun downers” we’d take a few pictures and head back out into the wild. It’s an amazing feeling and slightly nerve-racking to get out of the land rover in the middle of the bush. After dinner and a few drinks our first night, we headed to bed early to prepare for our early morning drive the following day. Between the morning and afternoon drives on our second day, we saw elephants, zebra, giraffe, white rhinos, wildebeest, blesbok, hartebeest, springbok, impala, gemsbok, kudu, eland, warthog, baboon, monkey, a few cool birds and a lot of plants and trees. We saw two more leopard our second day, making that a record for Mushi. In his entire career he has never shown a group three different leopards in 24 hours. We were lucky!

In the afternoon of the second day, we began searching for something not many safari goers get to see. The cheetah. Considering the luck we’d been having I was confident our man Mushi would be able to find it. Well, he did. And when he did our car came to a complete stop, Mushi grabbed his rifle and came to open our doors. Yes, we were getting out of the safety of our vehicle and walking to greet the two cheetahs at a much closer vicinity. If I remember correctly, before I stepped out of the car I looked at Mushi and said, “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Naturally, he completely ignored me and gave us our instructions to stay in a straight single file line, walk very slowly and to not make a sound. As I’ve discovered through my bungy jumping experience, when facing death I simply stop breathing. I had my arms and hands clasped in front of my body and sandwiched myself between the two boys in hopes that if the cheetahs sprung to kill us, I wouldn’t be first. In case you are curious, the cheetah is the fastest animal in the planet… but since the headline in the NY Times in the past week has not read “American Volunteers Die From Cheetah Attack”… we’re good. I don’t know how many feet or meters we were to these two large cats, but we were close enough. And even to my own amazement, I have to admit, one of the highlights of the entire safari experience. Surprisingly enough I didn’t pass out from not breathing and made it back to the car safe and sound. And to quote my travel buddy, I am the biggest brave chicken he’s ever seen.

On our last morning drive we were in search for 3 out of the “Big Five.” The big five are the five toughest animals to hunt on foot in Africa. It consists of the Black rhino, leopard, lion, elephant and cape buffalo. We did not do too badly. In fact, that last morning we found a Black rhino, (which are one of the most rare animals to find in Africa), over ten hippos, and the cape mountain zebra which is also a very rare sighting. Unfortunately, we did not see any cape buffalo, but to be able to see four out of the big five in 48 hours is pretty amazing. Good Karma. J

3... 2... 1... BUNGY!

The last week of our stay in Africa, our host Susan organized a trip for Nick and I, our friend Sintu who works forThe Kusasa Project, and our newest roommate, Beatriz from Mexico. We traveled through the Garden Route taking us from the Western Cape to the Eastern Cape of South Africa…about 10 hours worth of driving. Road trip across South Africa… not many people can say they’ve done that one! Our first day of traveling we made a stop in a town called Plettenberg Bay where we spent the night at Hunter’s Country House. It was a beautiful lodge with a very quaint atmosphere, tucked deep inside the woods. It was Nick’s birthday so we enjoyed a fabulous dinner at a new restaurant called Zinzi where the champagne was free and the wine flowed like water. Nick even had the pleasure of enjoying “Happy Birthday” in both English and Xhosa. Very cool. After struggling to wake up the next morning, we packed the car, ate a quick breakfast and headed out for the next half of our road trip.

About an hour away from Plettenberg Bay, we made a pit stop in a town called Tsitsikamma, the location of the world’s highest bungy bridge. The company Face Adrenalin organizes bungy jumping off of Bloukrans Bridge. Now, if you know me you know that I’m usually up for anything, and this was no exception. I’m not going to lie and tell you that I did it in full confidence, in fact when we walked across the bridge I forgot that I needed to breath in order to survive. I was speechless while waiting at the top and nearly had a stroke when the guys that run the place told me I’d be the third jumper. Luckily, they blast techno music while you wait which helped me think about dancing instead of slipping out of my ankle straps as I fell to my death… not to be too dramatic of course. When I watched my video of the jump I was able to see the visible fear and fright on my face and heard myself say, “I’m not gonna die right?” “I can’t do this.” And let’s not forget, “Don’t push me.” After a hop to the edge of the bridge I heard a nice and loud “3… 2… 1… BUNGY!” and felt two men literally push me off the bridge to face my 216-meter fall. The next 5 minutes are still blurry, but I was told I was the loudest jumper of the morning and I can tell you that though many of my words needed to be censored, I simply could not control what came out of my mouth. When both of my feet were back on cement I slowly started breathing again and felt the rush of adrenalin that every junky needs. It definitely was a good rush… and I’m glad that when I’m “in Rome” I do as the Roman’s. It’s not every day you get to jump off the world’s highest bungy bridge.