Miscellaneous Thoughts of Florence

I am sorry but anybody that knows me knows that I cannot go to the David statue without taking a pic of his butt. Incidentally, I bought a Christmas ornament for my family that actually features David's butt! Joy to the world!

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Author's note: This was written on November 19th.

Hello all and welcome back to my now obvious whenever-I-feel-inspired blog page. I’ve realized I haven’t exactly reviewed or talked about my experience in Florence, something I said I would definitely do while being here. So, I have decided to put all of my current thoughts down on this document without stopping and without editing, so whatever you get is likely my raw thoughts of the time. Here’s how my experience is going so far.

Suffice it to say, being here for a few months really puts into perspective European cities, especially Italian ones, for that matter. I feel like I simultaneously know everything and nothing about what it is like to be an Italian living in Florence. Unfortunately for me, much of where I spend are places I end up finding fellow study abroad students. Sometimes I know I will, like at an American brunch cafe or at a bar on a…Tuesday… (I’m sorry mom) but occasionally I really do try to find the niche, cool, italian-speakers-only-club spots in corners of my new (or come to think of it now, I guess normal) environment, but even then, I’ll try and speak Italian and am smacked back with English as if they do not have the time to entertain my stupidity. 

Florence is not as big as I thought when I first arrived. I think what helps create that distinction is having time to explore the city on your own terms. During one of my first weekends here, I decided to do all of the touristy things relatively solo - I climbed the Duomo and the Bell Tower, went inside the crypt (which, in case you wanted to know, is entirely skippable. The place smells like they let a bunch of puppies in there for playtime only to realize said puppies would pee and poop all over the mosaics and those aromas would then seep into the ancient roman architecture for all of humanity)(and also, the mosaics aren’t that impressive. I’m sorry, I said it. If you want impressive mosaics, they’re found on the baptistery’s ceiling or in Venice’s Saint Mark’s Church), and lit a few candles at Santa Maria Del Fiore for my nana as I craned my neck to look at the devil eating a human butt above me. I was told, actually, that italian grandmothers take their grandchildren to see that ceiling fresco when they are young, in order to scare them into behaving well. This felt quite similar to when my mom began to use Santa Clause to check my behavior. If you don’t stop it right now, I’ll have no choice but to call Santa! used to keep me up at night.

Florence’s museums are top-notch; I spent about 4 hours my first time in the Uffizi with a few friends of mine, after which, I discovered the greatest pasta that has ever been created in the history of the world: cacio e pepe. Something about this dish fascinates me. It is literally just cheese and pasta, which is kinda what I like to make at home when I am feeling lazy, but of course it is Italian and so it is mouthwatering. This delicacy was created by the Romans, which somehow makes sense to me, and I give them many thanks for their chef skills. I have tried all of the cacio e pepes in Florence (probably, at least) but by far my favorite is from the restaurant I went to after the Uffizi. It was so good I made my parents take me there when they visited, and for good reason too, as they said that was their favorite meal they had (though neither got the cacio e pepe to my dismay). I intend on returning to that restaurant at least one or two more times before I leave. Back to the Uffizi, however, I think my favorite painting from there has got to be The Birth of Venus. One thing about the Uffizi that drives me absolutely bonkers is all of the Madonna and the Child paintings. Holy shit, we get it! They line up all of these freaking frescos and temperas and golf leaf imprints and triptychs and mosaics of essentially the same pose of a fat, misshapen, man-baby-looking infant on top of a man-looking woman for what feels like 20 or so rooms. While seeing the evolution of how Madonna and the Child were depicted can be fun for an art history buff, the only time I ever stopped to look at one was when one of them depicted breastfeeding. Oooh, scandalous, I thought, before walking swiftly past the next 40,000,000 of them in the following rooms. 

An inconvenient part of my experience here is that my living situation is about 30 minutes from the city center. This did not bother me much in the earlier weeks, but now the sun sets at 4:30pm, and so if I were to want to be in the city by myself I would have to plan strategically around either the bus system or the sun. I sometimes prefer the sun, one because I feel like I am of an ancient culture reading the sun like it is my timetable and two, because I enjoy walking. Walking in Florence is absolutely spectacular and, I’d argue, necessary because of all the carbs you are eating. One thing I will say is that I am somebody who needs their fruits and vegetables, and those are not readily available around here. I swear, these Italians eat carbs all day (or don’t eat at all; their breakfasts are like, a singular croissant) and walk everywhere, which is how they stay so thin. For me, I need protein and fruit to stay fit, a growing problem as I’ve been developing a horrible relationship with food because of the lack of those options. For that reason, I am extremely excited to return home and fix my eating habits, so that I can also feel better about my body. No, I know I am not unhealthy, my pants still fit the same as they did in high school, but I don’t feel healthy or feel like I look my best. But that is purely a “me” problem. At least I don’t have acne the way I did in high school, I think that would send me in a spiral. Although funny enough, I actually have been getting a little bit more acne, probably because of all these damn carbs! If I had a kitchen, this situation would probably not exist, but I am tied to a meal plan. At least I get a gym though.

Interestingly enough, however, I have found myself so comfortable with Florence that it feels like any other city. On the weekdays, I enjoy exploring in-between classes, going shopping or visiting cafes. In the mornings I run, mostly around the Piazzas and recently around the Arno. I’ve taken up running ever since realizing that I am technically past my athlete prime days (though I still play club lacrosse at SU, don’t get it twisted) and therefore am not working out nearly as much, so if I want to stay the same then I have to keep my body moving. Running seemed like the obvious option considering I did that a lot in lacrosse. Now, however, I actually like, love running…which I fear if my parents heard me say that, they would send me away, because nobody ever thought they would have heard that come out of my mouth. I actually suit up for a 5k run in the mornings and think “yay!” The reason for my previous repulse to running is mostly because it was always a punishment in sports. I love running when it’s in a game. Speeding down the field to get back on defense or running up the court dribbling is beyond fun for me, and I always found joy in little running relays at practice. I am very competitive, and so being fast was always fun to me. However, the 1 mile tests at varsity tryouts or the 300 yard sprint at club tryouts just gave me unnecessary anxiety. I also found that I never really needed to run more than 1 mile to stay fit on my own, and so, that was the maximum distance I ever ran. Running more than a mile seemed relatively difficult, and also boring. Now, however, I am training to get up to the 10k level to run the Syracuse 10k with my friends in the spring. It’s truly quite funny how these things work. This morning I ran 5 miles around the Arno, which was extremely fun and sunny and beautiful. I will surely miss running in Florence.

I think this kind of encapsulates the feelings that I have right now, and so I will leave it here. More to come (I hope) and more insightful and inspirational details of my time here for your enjoyment. 

Ciao, (I learned that this can actually mean hello AND goodbye! How versatile!)

Faith