[Derogatory Term]s in Firenze

Pretty much our reaction to the entire trip

This past week has been an insane one. Although I am a great distance from Pratt, there is still a strong connection made stronger still with a visit from a close friend. As I slowly make my way into the rabbit hole of studying abroad, Clarissa is emerging—her program in England started in January so she’s over two-thirds of the way finished with her trip. It’s rather intimidating talking to her about her experiences. I definitely believe we’ll have a different outlook on our trips when we return to the States, but there’s an odd aura of jadedness that clouds both our visions.

Going on exchange is by no means a comfortable experience. We’ve attended Pratt for 2 ½ years so moving away is like pressing the restart button on university, only in a strange new country. I’ve been coping by staying in touch with the important people in my life as well as buying the Sunday New York Times every week to satisfy my hunger for American normality. I’ve never been much of a newspaper reader—being in America, I feel like I heard the news through osmosis—but it’s become like one of those blankets that I cling to in order to hold a connection with my past: a security blanket.

holy shit holy shit holy shit omg
The Baptistery, Cathedral, and Campanile!

Anyway, besides having a short-lived pity party and exploring the extent of Milan (I can’t believe how apathetic I feel toward this place sometimes!), we decided to take a last-minute adventure to Pisa and Florence. Although getting there was rough (boarding a 6:45 train, misinformation from the service desk, dead cellphones, a $65 fine, and almost getting escorted to the police…all before 9 in the morning!) we were able to find some solace in the amazement we felt when exploring each city. Taking a train in and out of Pisa was much cheaper than the Florence trains so we decided to quickly explore Pisa before jetting to Florence, where we would spend the night. “The Leaning Tower can’t be too hard to find” we joked as we wandered into the abyss of the small town…and indeed it wasn’t. After about half an hour wandering the streets, we saw the Tower and Cathedral sandwiched between streets. It was one of the single most exciting moments of my life—I felt like I found Carmen San Diego.

After marveling at the complex, buying a ticket to the top of the tower for the following day, and drinking the appropriate amount of coffee, we made our way back to the train station to escape to Firenze—and in the process incurred another fine for our ignorance toward Italian ticketing protocol.

In Florence, we misidentified a dome as Brunelleschi’s (embarrassingggg), fake prayed in order to break into a church, found Brunelleschi’s dome, got flirted up by a few high school seniors, and bumped into nearly every historical monument encased within the one-mile radius of the city center. By the time we found the apartment we were staying at, we were exhausted, grumpy, and in need of a drink. The next day was much of the same. We tried to backtrack through the monuments, cried about not going and seeing the David on the inside (that was just me, though…), searched for wifi, and made ourselves broke off of our gelato-addictions. It was pretty devastating.

We also got in contact with Monique, an old buddy from Pratt, whom is now attending FIT and is doing their Florence program for the year…which is INSANE. She was our personal tour guide until we had to make our way back to Pisa for our ascent to the top of the world’s best known fun house. The Tower of Pisa was terrifying. TERRIFYING. We sat inside the base for about 5 minutes where we acclimated to the feel of the insane tilt. We then walked up to the top of the tower—not taking a break to breathe—and found ourselves taking an insane amount of pictures in order to make the 18 Euro ticket worth it. I felt insane vertigo on top, and especially walking around the circumference at the top near the bells made me feel very uneasy. I suppose heights aren’t my strong suit when it comes to fears.

Monique, Clarissa, and me
Oh look, Brunelleschi's dome!!

We then ate a quick dinner and left for Milan. It was an amazing trip. Florence is beautiful, almost too beautiful, and I was so happy to escape the hazy grayness of Milan for a couple days. I’m hoping to take a few more trips before classes resume in two weeks. It was kind of sad saying my goodbyes to Clarissa as she left for the airport for London today, but I’m excited to spend a little alone time trying to figure out the best plan of action for the next few weeks.

Pisa at sunset

"Hi, I'm American"

Even in Italy, I can't escape Uncle Sam

So, today concluded my trudge through the first week of classes here in Milan. Every day this week has seemed far more than 24 hours long; I'm amazed by the amount of utter shit I've been able to pack into the semester so far. I've found myself at so many cultural crossroads; trying to connect with people is so much more difficult than I thought. Language really is a barrier that is very difficult to surpass when a good majority of my vernacular is slang that makes little to no literal sense. My classmates come from all over the world: Thailand, Lebanon, Egypt, El Salvador, Italy, Tukey, Sweden...and to think, I even have trouble communicating with the girls from the UK. But it's funny because some of these girls have an even better grasp of American pop culture than I really do. The world seems to have an odd love-hate relationship with the US which makes it hard for me to determine if being the token American is something to take pride in or to mask in shame. On one hand we brought to the table Michael Jackson and Madonna (why the fuck do people love those two so much?), and on the other we eat hamburgers all day and are insane war-mongers.

(I keep wanting to quote this line from Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series but I don't think it'd come off as funny as it would ignorant...'MERICA, FUCK YEAH)

As for what I actually did this week besides try to embody every American stereotype ever (I'm currently working on picking up a southern accent), I had a lot of fun. I even woke up in a strange Italian guy's bed the other morning...the story isn't so exciting because the strange Italian guy is a very good friend that was on exchange last semester at Pratt, he wasn't in the bed, and I was there because I was probably a bit too tipsy to walk home alone the night before. It's somewhat comical to me that Milan's version of Thirsty Thursdays are Wednesdays at an oddly placed row of Corinthian columns. I had culture shock the other day when I saw a nice pair of well-dressed men walking down the street with Heinekens in hand; if you do that in NYC, chances are you're extremely drunk, extremely homeless, and extremely smelly. The casualness about drinking here is somewhat refreshing, even though I now am legally allowed to drink even in the US. There's even a bar (as in hard liquor) served in the school's cafeteria. I fully support restrictions on alcohol use and have grown up knowing that it is not ok to drink before a certain age, but I think the taboo-ness of it made it more desirable for those younger than 21 to be irresponsible with booze-I mean, they have nothing to lose because  consuming one milliliter or one handle carry the same consequences. It was funny to me hearing a classmate begrudge the fact she's turning 21 when in America, that is the age to be.

When I arrived in Milan I was scared shitless and kept asking myself "when can I go back to New York City?", but now I'm starting to worry about the fact that I won't be here long enough. I don't think I can blend as seamlessly in here as I do in NY and I definitely would not consider living here for the rest of my life, but the isolation is becoming a welcome friend to me here. I picked up the Sunday New York Times yesterday to have something to re-connect me to the American news and although I miss the constant contact I had with my friends back home, I think I'll get some much needed relaxation here. Each interaction here is new and extraordinary. I went to happy hour alone last night (free buffets, WADDUP) and the interaction with the bartender was enlightening; I never thought that I would be touched so much by the sound of the words "thank you" as I did then. I've really learned to appreciate my own language here, which is so ignorant it hurts. But that's me. The American. Fuck Yeah.

Ciao, Bella

N-A-B-A pretty much spells Pratt, right?

After a month spent in New York (which, I believe the proper greeting there is "fuck you"), I've finally made my way to Milan early on Monday morning. When I applied to study here, I'm not sure how serious I was about it. I knew I needed to get away from Pratt--sophomore year was no easy feat--but I guess I applied to NABA on a whim. I had a very pivotal point in my Pratt career during the application process, the chair of my department gave me a wake up call in terms of my attitude and I had more doubt in myself than I ever had before. Luckily, I somehow rebounded and I wouldn't say it's been smooth sailing since but it hasn't been awful either. Last semester was my best semester at Pratt so far, debatably because I knew I had an outlet this Spring, but also because I was able to really explore what I wanted to do artistically. I'm very much hoping that this semester will also help foster my creative side and if not, I'm sure Milan will inspire me to some extent...I mean, I'm in freakin Milan!!

#1 disappointment so far: the canals do not have water in them
#2 disappointment: I can't escape that "Thrift Shop" song

My stay so far has been nice. I'm an incredibly shy person so I starved at the beginning because of my unwillingness to enter a restaurant. I don't think Americans realize what it's really like to be a foreigner. We complain so much about them being in our country and how they should "learn English", but we really take very little initiative to learn another language ourselves, let alone one as complex as English. Anyway, I haven't starved to death yet. YET.

There are two other students from Pratt here so I've gotten the chance to bond with some chicks I would never have found in my friend group back home. I am so thankful that I am not here completely alone. Pratt's exchange program is a complete clusterfuck (I mean, our supervisor quit midway through the year and WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING) and I'm the last fashion student to attend NABA from Pratt due to the fashion design chair cutting off ties with the school, but the other two Prattsters and I have made it this far (amazingly) so I am insanely optimistic. Today alone we all went and applied for Taxpayer numbers, Permits to Stay, and Unlimited Subway Passes ($17/month!)...we're doing well. And I would not be doing as well without them.

As far as being a tourist goes, I was able to wander aimlessly my first sleepy day in Milan. It's a bit confusing because the city is in a circular formation (I'm so used to dealing with grids in NYC) so getting a sense of direction so far has been a bit of a struggle. But when you have no place to be, you never know what you may stumble upon!! I somehow menuvered my way to the Duomo, which is a beautiful, intricate marble cathedral standing in the cental part of Milan. It's an absolutely breathtaking building and I am really looking forward to going inside one day. Facing the Duomo is another of Milan's major landmarks: Prada. Just kidding, but Prada is housed in the Galleria perpandicular to the Duomo. I really regret missing Milan Fashion Week because, although Milan is still swarming with fashion, I'm sure the street fashions would be a real sight to behold. A couple days after my initial decent, I returned to the Duomo. I feel like I might end up seeing it as much as I see Time's Square, I'm like a tourist bug drawn to the light of the perfect trap. Ahh.