Teenagers with Bullhorns: the next Les Miserables

Ciao ragazzi!

So it's been five days and I left you all on a cliff hanger with the manifestation and all that jazz. Sorry. I started writing an entry the day after but then my computer got weird and restarted and I lost all my progress. This is what's up yo.

So on October 11th, my school took part in a manifestation. It started at 8:30 when I met up with friends and we started walking in a gigantic parade-style march. On the steps of a university, we stopped to take out our banners and disperse them within our group, and make sure we had everyone caught up. Then, we started the actual "march".

Catania has a public garden/park called Villa Bellini, and we marched through a lot of that to get to our destination, where the other schools were. During our walk through Villa Bellini, I actually witnessed a car clip the back of a motorcycle and the two riding it go flying, but they were both okay and pedestrians helped them. My friends were more worried about me it seemed, because I kinda freaked out. I'm not good with that stuff. Thank you, Damiano! (;

My sister had told me prior that there would be a good 3 or 4 thousand people there, and I didn't believe it until we met up with other schools. For about a half hour, we stood in a shoulder-to-shoulder sweat fiesta until we started the full-out march that would take place the rest of the day. The march was led by a flatbed truck with a few speakers that were pumping music out of them (ironically, Pink Floyd's Another Brick in the Wall pt. 2)

Chants included but were not limited to:

BOGGIO LERA SEMPRE PRESENTE (Boggio Lera, my school, always here)

HEY, TU, ALLA FINESTRA, SCENDI TU E MANIFESTA (hey, you, in the window, come down and protest!)

It was five days ago, I forget them, okay? But we had bullhorns and stuff.

The rest of the walk lasted for about 3 hours, and it was very stop-and-go. Plus it was hot, everyone smelled...southern European, and I didn't have water. By the end I was just drenched and thirsty. It didn't take any of the fun out of it, however. The highlight of my day was making eye contact with one of my sisters friends who I knew but he doesn't speak English while doing a chant. The look on his face was "HOLY CRAP SHE SPEAKS ITALIAN LOOK AT OUR LITTLE AMERICAN ALL GROWN UP AND AWESOME LIKE US".

I love my friends.

Bringing me to today.

Today, I gave a powerpoint presentation on "American Life" and it was super fun just going on about my life, and into detail about normal things to me that were completely foreign to them. At one point, I got a little emotional and I told my class how much I'm grateful to have them here and I wouldn't trade this experience for the world. Words can't express how much I love my life right now.

Yet again, I love my friends.

I love my life.

I love everything.

Ugh it's gross I know I need to stop this.

Ciao ragazzi, ci vendiamo!

Viva la Revolution!

This is the story of how I completed a revolution around the sun, while the Italian school system is creating a teenage revolution in itself.

October 9th, 2013:

Auguri a mi, auguri a mi, auguri a Kara, auguri a mi! It was my birthday yesterday, and not only any birthday but the first that really actually matters in life. I'm now sixteen!

I celebrated my sixteenth revolution around the sun with no party, but what I am going to go ahead and say was my best birthday yet. I woke up with my hair in my eyes and as tired as every other day, got out of bed and did my morning routine. I went downstairs and nothing special happened (as in no one jumped out at me or shoved me down the stairs or something), but I didn't mind. I wouldn't expect them to know it was my birthday after only living with them for a little over 2 weeks. So my host sister Gaia and I walk to school, and I walk into my classroom and they scream "AUGURI" at me, which is basically the "happy birthday" slogan of Italian. That made me really, really happy.

The rest of the day, I had my first French class with first years (since I don't speak a word of French and I would like to learn it). So I repeated the "I'm from America please don't touch me" routine with the 13 year olds in my class, then went back to my third year class. When I walked in, they not only sang, but screamed the happy birthday song at me, in English and Italian. My love for my Italian class is like how they serve gelato here; it runneth over.

After school, I normally walk out the doors and wait on the steps of the church connected to my school (since it's an ex-convant we have that), but instead of going home, my sister walked by me, told me to wait, and came back and got me. So she made me follow her up the street to where all of our friends sometimes congregate after school. And they sang again.

God I love my life.

But the reason my sister made me wait on the steps was because she was buying me some cake things, one chocolate cream, one strawberry. We ate them, then went home to eat the best pasta to come from Sicily: pasta al forno (pasta of the oven), that my host dad made while we were at school. So I ate until my already full stomach was up to "basta on the pasta" on the scale and then we changed and went downstairs to have what we know as "reunion".

"Reunion" is where I start to bring in the teenage revolution in. My host sister, Gaia, is part of the school political realm. There are two parties (just like the Republicans and Democrats), Trinacria and Liberamente. Gaia is part of Trinacria, and I'd like to consider myself as part of it too, yet I am more like an english-speaking minion. I attend most of the meetings (even though the only reasons I attend is because Gaia is there and it's hilarious to watch/listen to the kids scream in Sicilian at each other) and know what's going on most of the time. This reunion was about an assembly that would happen the next day, which I'll get to later.

For dinner, Gaia and I went to her best friend's house and made pasta and meat things that are hard to explain. Kind of like pork wrapped around cheese. Then we ate nutella. It was a good night.

October 10th, 2013.

Today, school was boring. Until our break time, when I was working with Trinacria, and then we had an assembly, which is really just a group of kids with a bullhorn. So Trinacria stood on the top of a ramp in front of what was probably most of the school, and talked about the protests that would happen the following day.

The Italian government is cutting funds from the schools, and in response, we are going on strike. Tomorrow, in one of the plazas, what we are guessing will be 3 or 4 thousand kids will be on strike against the Italian government. And I'm part of it.

This afternoon after my AFS Italian lessons, my sister picked me up and we went to a park to spraypaint banners for tomorrow. I love her group of friends so much, english speakers or not at all.

So now, we are sitting around, waiting until tomorrow when we go all out Les Miserables. We are the barricade in this situation. UGH LIFE WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY SO AWESOME

Why Italian teenagers are pretty friggin' awesome.

I've told Gaia this about 235693237849653 times, but where in America would you see like, 50+ kids meeting almost every day to figure out a way to save their education and get hundreds of kids involved without any adult revision at all? You try to start a music group in America with 5 people and it goes down the crapper within 1 day. My group of friends in Italy is proof that in order to change something, you gotta do it yourself. Nothing is just going to come to you the way you want it. Even though some of these kids have morals about what they do that I don't agree with, they are more active and determined than even I am. They want change, and they're striving and struggling to get it. So, do you hear the people singing the songs of angry men? Or angry teenagers with bullhorns and a few liters of Coca Cola, but really. This is amazing.

holy crap i'm italian: my not-so-touristic travels.

When you're lost and alone, or you're sinking like a stone,

carry on.

May your past be the sound, of your feet upon the ground,

carry on.

Exchange students need a song to hang on to sometimes, and that's probably my song.

Just something I thought of in school, and it does apply so well to exchange. Anyways....

CIAO RAGAZZI.

I really haven't been able to do a full out blog post here, because it's been a bit overwhelming with all the crazy switching of host families and adjustments and trying to understand what the actual heck is going on around with me. But I actually have my life together for a few moments and it's that time. I force myself into talking about my life for your enjoyment! 

I don't even know where to start or what to begin with because my life is so chaotic but let's do something simple. Daily schedule? Yup.

Okay. So let's pretend it's Monday. This is my life.

7:00; 7 AM WAKIN' UP IN THE MORNING GOTTA BE FRESH GOTTA GO DOWNSTAIRS. That has never applied more to my life until I lived in Italy. I do wake up at 7 every day, get dressed, do all of my bathroom routine, and then go downstairs.

7:30; I eat breakfast with my host sister, which is normally biscuits (my favorite Italian breakfast food) and milk, sometimes if we have enough time we will make coffee. On occasion, there are breads with apricot jam. 

7:50; My host sister and I walk down eight flights of stairs and five blocks to our school. 

8:00; I walk up 6 flights of stairs, through a courtyard, more stairs, and then to my classroom. Normally I sit on my desk and wait until something exciting happens but sometimes I will go to the courtyard and buy something to eat or drink for the day. FOOD IS SO CHEAP HERE. 

8:15; My first class starts for the day. The teachers move instead of the students, in case you didn't know that already, and when they enter the room, all of us stand up until they sit down or tell us we can sit. Every day, our classes also switch. I still haven't gotten mine memorized, because another thing they do a lot here is change everyone's freaking schedules. It doesn't really matter to us as much as it does the teachers, because it means they have to FIND us. 

11:05; Break time. Here is when we all go outside and wrestle our way to the vending machines, take so many pictures of each other it's ridiculous, or copy each other's homework. You can go anywhere, really. Yesterday, it was a girls birthday in my class so she brought in 3 cakes and 3 bottles of soda and we threw a party and took a good 20 minutes out of the following period to eat cake. It's always sketchy to know when class starts again, because it depends on when the teacher can motivate themselves to come teach us. There's always a kid outside looking for the oncoming teacher to tell us to run and sit down. It's hilarious because we literally do run.

There's also a local pasticceria that makes sweet and savory pastries and sells them for a euro every day. They're delicious. Like, better than USA cafeteria food. Take that, Michelle Obama. 

13:05; school is over, and we are released out into the streets. My school is on one of the busiest streets and we will stand in the middle of it, COMPLETELY backing up traffic. Then, we start playing Frogger with humans as we dodge rogue vespas, cars, buses, and bicyclists. 

13:15; My host sister walk back up 8 flights of stairs, complaining about how hungry we are. Get upstairs, and throw something for lunch together. It can vary from warming up something we bought from a restaurant (eggplant parm, lasagna), to eating balls of mozzerella di bufala (better than regular mozzerella) and salami.

the rest of the afternoon: In Sicily, sometimes we take naps, which I am a strong believer in. But if we don't want to sleep, we study (those who actually have school work), we go sit on the steps of a 600 year old church and hang out with friends, or we read/use the computer/write. I do all 4 of these things on different days. 

20:00-22:00; We have dinner. Dinners are smaller than in America, mostly vegetables, soups, small things like that. At least in my current host families. In past families we ate more. But really, in typical Italian families, dinner is smaller than lunch. 

as soon as I finish dinner: I go to bed. 

Now that school is finally starting to be comprehendable and I can understand about half or more of what people say, I feel like I'm not an American living in Italy but a socially/language retarded Italian teenager. LEVEL UP! 

Ci vendiamo!

Teenage Wasteland by 4's

Ciao ragazzi!

In 3 days, I will be away for a month...1/10 of it already come and gone and it feels like I was sitting in pointless Philadelphia traffic this morning...

Let's kick this intro into the second month off with a list of pointless things about America I miss:

1. TURKEY HILL ICED TEA. (what did I tell you, it always is number one in my heart)
2. Showers every day/air conditioning. 
3. my school. I really enjoy Italian school but really, I do miss my Solanco.
4. a working cell phone

Is it good that only 4 things come to mind that I miss? I think so. MOOOOOVING ON.

Italian school summed up into 4 words: cigarettes, screaming, doppelgangers, and bad haircuts. 

Many, many, many Italian kids smoke. I'm talking about 80% of my school. After turning down the dozens of cigarettes offered to me in the past month, I've had the reasoning behind it explained to me.

You know back in the third or fourth grade when you had a specialist come into your classroom and hammering those pictures of tar-coated lungs from smokers down your throat and telling you that smoking is never cool? The kids in Italy obviously never had that lecture. It is legitimately considered a "cool thing" here in Italy. There are 13 and 14 year old kids lighting up cancer sticks for the sake of being cool.  I die every day walking outside on break and seeing people everywhere smoking, rolling their own cigarettes, trying to find a lighter, slowly killing themselves at such a young age. Can't we just all drink espresso and eat personal pizzas without setting something on fire?

The Italians do not have conversations. They have limb flailing, synchronized screaming festivals. My host sister, Gaia, is part of her school's representative branch, and they normally have meetings in our house. Today, we had one and I sat in because I like a lot of the people there even if they don't speak English. They are supposed to be talking about issues in the school but in reality it's 6 people screaming over each other and tossing their hands around like they're conducting an orchestra. It's one of the funniest/most terrifying things you can witness firsthand.

DOPPELGANGERS. Basically I've come to the conclusion that everyone has an identical twin and they can be found in southern Europe. So far, 4 of my classmates look like people from my American school, there's a first or second year that has Harry Styles' face, and a fifth year that looks like my world cultures teacher from last year. I will some day impose selfies with all of them.

Bad haircuts....too many of them. 

It's 8:15 here and we are about to eat dinner. 

Keep talking with your hands and I'll see you next time!

How to (somewhat) Succeed in Being an Exchange Student (with a lot of trying, confusion, and temporary sadness)

Ciao, ragazzi.

This blog post is gonna be a long one, and pretty brutal. I really want to make it known what exchange really feels like when you get down to it. I know for a fact that a ton of exchange students hit a wall as soon as they stepped off of the plane in their host country, and I want to make it known that most of the time, exchange isn't "what dreams are made of"...more like a "can we all stop screaming now i need to study this schoolwork i don't understand and later go try and figure out something i don't understand either".

Let's get down to business.
(TO DEFEAT. THE HUNS.)

but really.

Coming up to exchange, we are prepped out of our minds with everything that could possibly happen during 10 months of being abroad. What to pack, what to wear, what to say, what to do, what to think, what to oppose to, how to react, how to handle, how to deal, how to feel. When we are sitting at home in our pajamas and aimlessly scrolling through our newsfeeds and watching terrible reality television, we are annoyed that we have all of these pamphlets to read and paperwork to fill out and redundant information that was shoved our way since the day we clicked "submit" on our application. We think that everything is so self-explainitory and unnecessary to hear over and over again, and in reality most of it is not that way.

Here's where that wall comes into play. From the first time we lay eyes on our host family, we are thrown into a portal of the life we were "prepared" for but definitely were not. The scenarios in our head of how we thought it would be aren't anything like what reality really is, no matter if the difference is positive or negative. Instantaneously you learn about them: their levels in the languages they speak, the way they talk, the way they laugh, what makes them happy, what makes them mad, how they treat each other, how they show affection, what their sense of humor is like, what their expectations are, what they like, what they don't like, literally, we are tossed into learning everything at once.

Not knowing anything, let alone everything, is one of the most terrifying things to experience. It's basically a constant struggle of not knowing whether to laugh, nod, respond, be shocked, try to make a joke, or do nothing whatsoever. So we just sit there and try not to be a nuisance because we're terrified of making a bad first impression on who we think will be our family for the next 290 some days.

After the atrocity of confusion that becomes complete reality (aka the first night), you are thrown into the cycle. THE CIIIIIRCLE OF LIIIIIIFE. The circle of life your host family lives every day but you have never lived once. It's a fantastic feeling (I say sarcastically) to have your head pop off the pillow and just think to yourself, "oh no. oh nonono. did I sleep too late? What do I wear? should I even get dressed or just go out in my pajamas? do I wear shoes? do I comb my hair? should I put makeup on today? is anyone else awake? should I get breakfast by myself? what if they've already eaten? what if they're still asleep? ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod". So you get up and thankfully they're still up, and you sit down just for the next wave of reality to roll in.

You've never eaten breakfast in an Italian home. What do you do? How much do you eat? What do you eat? Where are the mugs? bowls? spoons? plates? where's the food? Are you allowed to drink coffee? Do you drink the milk after your cereal? Should you wash my silverware after you're done or just leave it in the sink/table?

Literally, and I do mean literally this time, you know NOTHING.

For me, knowing nothing is petrifying. I'm that kid in your class that knows what will happen before it even does, has dates marked on her calendar for next school year, knows how to work every appliance known to any citizen of the USA, can probably tell you more about your schedule than you can yourself, but can't figure out how to open a damn cereal box in Italy.

Until you're settled, you're turned into a babbling idiot. You can't do anything by yourself. Most of the time, you can't even speak for yourself without a translator or having to force the person to repeat themselves 174 times. You're asking 7 and 8 year olds how to work a shower, how to cross the street, how to work a television remote, where to sit at dinner, etc., when they are expecting you to be a lot smarter than you can be when you are here.

Bringing me to my next point. If you have to switch families for any of an assortment of reasons while abroad, you don't get a chance to be able to settle in one place. You go from Gateway City to Host Country to Host Family to Temporary Family to New Host Family, and you can do all of that in under three weeks. But, let's throw in school and actually having to be social and recall everything that you learned 4+ months ago so the teachers can understand where you are in your education and aren't actually an idiot (and you just weren't taught what they were learning). So we have (simultaneously) school, social life, Italian life, American life, exchange life, all to throw in at one time with no rest from any of them.

You must understand that no matter how fluent someone is in a language, doesn't mean they can understand you. Comprehension is different than understanding. You don't know struggle until you build up the courage to tell someone you care for something extremely difficult, and have them comprehend you, but not understand you. Google translate is trash for both of these things. That difference is basically the difference between life and death; either making everything so much better, or making everything so much worse. What's a good victory story without getting worse, though?

Point being through this whirlpool of information that there is no rest for an exchange student. There is always something being done, being put off, needing done, etc. From talking to other exchange students and reading blogs, it seems like we all have had that day around noon-ish where we just lose it sitting on a bidet in a select location and crying about our life and where we are at the exact moment. I haven't got a name for this. Bidet syndrome? Bidet depression? PTSB (post-traumatic stress bidet)? But anyways, we honestly had no idea what we were going into when we clicked "submit" on that application and we didn't have a way of knowing. We are voluntarily lost.

Don't let this scare you. I am legitimately happy. I'm happy because through the past 22 days I was pushed to my limits and I came out on the other side, stronger than I have ever been, and ready to face more. It's only been 22 days and I have 270 some more, and I feel ready and good about them. I know my strengths and I know my weaknesses. My weakness is my language, my strength is my determination. Strength is also strength, and if you can convince yourself you have enough of it, you're invincible.

All throughout the past three weeks, I would ask myself at my hardest times if I wanted to go back home to America. The answer was always, "no". No matter how much you miss something, sometimes determination and strength can overrule that completely. It's awesome how the human mind works. It's amazing how your inner strengths and wants just demand to be noticed in everyday life. Life is just astonishing in itself.

This blog post was deep.

Sometimes, you're just able to sit around and life comes to you in your thoughts, and you learn to appreciate it so much. And that's why I love being an exchange student.

IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAAAAAAAR

Buongiorno ragazzi!

It's a little past 8 on Sunday night on the first day of Autumn, though it's still hot as ever here. It's also the end of my third day with my temporary host family, the Basile's, and who I've grown to love dearly. They actually have a son who's my age studying for a semester in Belgium, and I get his room (with a ceiling fan!!!!!). I move to my "permanent" host family tomorrow, but if things don't work out, I'm staying with the Basile's. It's really a win-win situation.

Yesterday and today were basically packed with stuff. First of all, I have a newfound hatred for the store Euronics. It's like a Best Buy, but I've spent many hours in that store here in Catania and it's about as fun as the DMV was a couple months ago. I also had the joy of being there the day Grand Theft Auto 5 came out, so it was reeeeeal fun dodging teenage boys staring at a screen watching people rob banks and bikini'ed women steal cars.

But, exchange student life went from pretty terrible to instant "what dreams are made of"-esque as soon as I switched host families. I stayed with a temporary host family, the Basile's, with their two kids (they have three, but the oldest is abroad in Belgium for a semester with AFS! awesome!) and their dog. They were so sweet, immensely caring and really interested in English and the American way of life. I was with them for about 4 days and 4 nights, and they actually took me up Etna! It was really foggy that day, so most of the pictures are just of the ground I was walking on, but it was amazing! Plus it was very cold. The first time in a loooong time my fingers went numb! If they're really necessary, I'll post pictures (even though I haven't posted a single picture on here yet). But I was on a volcano!

In the meantime, now I am living in basically the center of Catania, near Piazza Duomo and the shore. I am on the same street as my school, so that means I get to sleep in until 7 every day when school starts around 8:10. But that's not the best part. My room is on the top floor (it's a two story apartment) and out my window, there is a FREAKING LEGITIMATE GREEK-ROMAN THEATRE. Here's a picture I took from my bedroom window, and yeah, I'm being completely serious.

I have to close my windows while changing in case of the rogue, wild tourists come! But there are a lot of cats that sit in the sun all day here. I don't mind them.

School is going better, but it's still boring for me because I barely understand Italian. I understand physics, surprisingly. Also a little of my art history class when she speaks slowly about civilizations and famous places, not necessarily the architecture of a Greek temple I have never heard of... English class is hard for the American! (even though I am an Anglophile, I still struggle with the British dialect!) But really, is there a difference between "may" and "might"?

Until then, ragazzi!

so this is the story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down

....and I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there. I'll tell you WHAT THE CRAP MY LIFE HAS BEEN LIKE FOR THE PAST 15 DAYS.

Let's kick this out as fast as we can.

I left home September 4th as soon as my brother left for school to head up to NYC with my mom, aunt, and my life packed into under 66 pounds. I spent the night there and took off the next day from JFK.

The flight was brutal, mostly just the part not in the plane, spent carrying my luggage and sweating with 44-150 other kids just as miserable and annoying as you think they would be. Switzerland was pretty horrible. No wifi, no francs, expensive water, I slept on the freaking ground, angry cleaning ladies yelling in German because there were like 90 kids taking up the path to the bathroom...but it was nice and cold on that floor.

The Rome airport I had been warned previously about, that it wasn't in too great of shape. It did smell like a cajun portapotty which wasn't too pleasant but still, I actaully made it to Italy without commiting homicide or dying.

The Rome orientation was basically the explosion of all my happiness because it was too much awesomeness to handle. 501 foreign kids all pumped up on adrenaline to learn. I roomed with a girl from California who I loved so dearly (Marisa) and we got to know each other pretty well. Let's toss it in a nutshell (orientation)

• I stargazed/talked about life with a girl from Poland, girl from Austria, and a girl from France on the roof of our hotel in Rome. 
• finally was united with Iris (HK), Thorunn (Iceland), and all of my other friends from the interwebs.
• I sang the italian national anthem in front of like, 100 kids.
• I made a friend in a unisex bathroom
• I used a bidet (stop it)

After 2 days of orientation we all went to our chapters. I had to fly (perks of being temporary Sicilian) so me and probably 40ish international kids went to Fiumicino again to fly to Catania. I love those kids more than life itself. I met my host family at the airport, and to make this super super super short, I have since ended up switching host families.

Yes, Kara has switched host families. My family was very sweet, it wasn't that they were terrible to me. It's just that when you take a 15 year old girl and put her in a completely different environment and tell her to survive, she's gotta feel at home. and if she doesn't feel at home, she's going to be sad. It was a completely personal decision and the 2 days it took were definitely the hardest of my life. To disappoint people and then have them not understand completely why is the hardest thing you could ever do. I did learn that there are two kinds of people in this world. Both are nice and loving to the other kind, but they will never "click" on a level family or loved ones will. I'm still set on figuring out exactly what these types are. My new project.

In about 13 days in Catania, I have

• made real friends
• eaten gelato for 3 meals
• eaten pasta atleast once a day if not more
• ran into the unisex bathroom friend on my way to school (it's a boy from Argentina) and nearly jumptackled him because I was so excited to see another AFSer
• went to school in a building older than the USA itself
• watched Disney Channel in Italian
• used an Italian vending machine

In the process of moving families right now, and I'm super tired. I will have to go now, as it's almost 11 here. Goodnight, my beautiful blog readers.