La montagna

Well, I was constantly told as I prepared to leave for Italy that I would gain so much weight because of the insane amount of pasta dishes and carb based meals. Well, as I explained to those people, here the portions are smaller and the food is fresher, not to mention Europeans walk EVERYWHERE. Well, it is true, and my jeans fit me better than they did last week, and I feel my leg muscles and lower abdominal s become tighter everyday. I would say the food is definitely part of the reason, but there is another: "the hill."

The hill is what we have music majors have lovingly dubbed the monstrous, steep pathway that leads up to the music school. Now, I know I exaggerate as it is part of my nature, but I kid you not, this hill must be at at least an 80 degree angle, constructed of cobblestone, and takes ten minutes to climb. By the time you reach the school, you are covered in sweat and out of breathe. To me, this hill adds another issue: I only ever go to the music school when I am going to some kind of lesson. So, imagine, you are going to have a voice lesson entirely in Italian, and suddenly you are expected to climb this massive hill. Talk about a physical metaphor for your anxiety! But, as all analogies go, the hill evens out, and lately upon my arrival I discover that the life of music here in Italy is not as stressful...in fact, it is worth the uphill climb.

I had my second piano lesson today. Now, I was freaking out this morning, as we have had no time to practice and the pianos that were supposed to be in our apartments two weeks ago are somewhere in Germany and have not yet shipped, so I felt MAJORLY unprepared. The piece I had was the Minuet in G Major...if you youtube it, you will literally recognize the piece almost instantly, and from what I know it is very basic. But I fumble all the time on piano, and I was suddenly afraid Arlene would go ballistic if I screwed up one note! Well, I arrived, saturated and anxious, and waited for my piano lesson to begin. I felt so grungy and disguisting, but as soon as I walked into Arlenes room I felt an air of calm. She really is the most loving teacher I have ever met here at UNH, and as we began I felt the tension just melt away. No, Arlene was not going to kick me out of piano lesson...far from it, actually. Despite some mess ups in the second section of the Minuet, she told me that I "have more of a knack for the piano then I think." The result? I am now doubling as an accompinist in our vocal accompinist class! In plain English...I am playing the piano for singers! Talk about a confidence booster.

But there is another way to ease the stress of climbing the beastly mountain besides considering its many rewards. You can always stop at the halfway point...which sounds really stupid. But at the middle of the hill is a cafe. The first day we were getting a tour, a man walked out of this cafe and yelled after the teacher in Italian...I picked up the phrase "quattro lingue!" which measn "four languages!" So, out of curiousity, I asked the teacher what the man had just said. She told me that he was explaining that his wife spoke four languages, including English, and that they would take care of us. "But I did not want to tell you all that" she said, "because you should be learning the Italian, not relying on English speakers. If I had it my way, you would never hear me speak English, and I would make you figure it out!"

Well, I did not entirely forget this, but I also did not want to walk in and blatently ask for the woman who speaks English, so I postponed my visit. Later that week, I decided I really, really, really wanted to try Italian cappuccinno, so on my way to class I stopped into this cafe. A stunningly beautiful woman greeted me with a smile, "ciao!" she said. But before I had the chance to respond back, she said "which means, hello! How are you?"

Was it that obvious that I was not Italian...I mean, beyond the blonde hair and green eyes.

"OH, hello! Ummm...so you are the woman who speaks English here...come ti chiami?"

"Shereen," she replied, "and yes, I speak it...I love, it is my favorite language! I wish to learn more of it..."

Well, it just so happened that we both had a similar goal, and I promised Shereen that everyday I would stop into her cafe to give her a chance to speak. Word caught on, and it has become a regular location of almost every American student here. If it is not going to talk to Shereen in the morning to get coffee and a pastry (Nutella filled croissants...mmmmm), it is to get a drink and use the internet late a night with her husband, Paolo, who speaks broken English, but has been very influential in my learning Italian phrases for how to order food and drink.

I feel like, in these two people who are almost our age, I have made two real Italian friends. And for that reason, I would make the uphill climb every morning if it means having them, rewarding benefits, and espresso based beverages.

If this hill is the most ridiculous physical obstacle I have to get over while I am here, I think I can live with it. And slowly, I have come to enjoy my climb. I look at the hill less as an obstacle to what I need to do, but rather an adventure! I think it is about time I look at life that way, too...

But the best part about the hill? No matter how hard it can be to climb, and even if the other side is not what you wanted, it will even out somehow. And that is always for the better, when you think about it. The least you can get is some incredible memories and stories...and that, I feel, is the best reward anyone can get.

Ciao, mi amicci.