So many vegetables! With my pizza and pasta.

With the kitchen closed on the weekends, I was finally thrust into the Italian restaurant scene. Besides the gelato place I have already been to three times, my current goal is to not eat at the same restaurant twice. At least not until I can justify and articulate what makes that restaurant worth returning to. I have not had enough experience with Italian cuisine to fully understand what separates one restaurant's dish from all the rest, but I'm rather determined to figure it out. So, here are the beginning of my explorations:

Last night I got pizza. The same way Americans have supersized, well, everything, Italians supersized an "individual" pizza. Don't get me wrong, I was happy to scarf down that entire thing. It was a very Hannah style meal. Pizza with as many vegetables as they could find in their kitchen. I left full and pleased.

The only frustrating thing is not understanding what is on a bill. We're starting to figure out that just because we do not understand what it says, doesn't mean they're cheating us.

We did get to see an Italian dance performance as well. There were three pieces, and while I can't say I loved them all, I was happy we went. The first piece was phenomenal, with paper dolls, two women in brightly colored outfits, some onstage costume changes, and a lot of raw, natural movements. There was a heavy focus on the hip thrust and fist pump in a way that made me smile. The choreography, music, and movers were all enjoyable to watch, and seemed really passionate about the work. The second piece mostly consisted of a woman standing on stage singing and yelling. I must have missed the movement part. The third piece was odd but the performer had a good understanding of her body's ability, so I enjoyed watching her kinesthetic awareness.

Anyway, enough about dance. I know everyone's really just interested in the food. Today after mass we went to a restaurant that we'd heard was good. And it absolutely was. Of course we've given up on ordering water, because hydration is not worth the money. I'd rather spend it on this perfect ribollita:

For those of you who want to yell at me for not ordering pasta, ribollita is a traditional tuscan soup. It's filled with vegetables and tuscan bread. It was hearty and perfect for a cool day. Plus, I warned my friends I would be mooching off their pasta dishes. My roommate, Emily, got this gnocchi concoction in mozzarella and tomato sauce. I have never seen this much gnocchi, nor such small and circular shapes, but it was certainly tasty.

My other friend, Seth, ordered ravioli with 4 cheeses, spinach, and mushrooms. It was a heavier, creamier dish, but epically tasty. I couldn't get a picture because we dug into that one too quickly.

While I think this restaurant may be a winner, especially because they had English on the menu so I knew I wasn't ordering a full pig, I'll get back to you after I do more taste testing. 

This little piggy went to market

Finishing up an intense week of 2 days of classes, we had our first experience in modern with Rita and Afro Brazilian dance with Carlos. Rita's class was comfortable yet challenging. Before I came to Italy I asked many of my dance teachers what they thought I needed to work on, and the unanimous decision was power and confidence. Interestingly, however, Rita told me to be softer. While the two dynamics do not contradict each other, I am struggling to find soft power. Also, Rita is particular about her choreography, asking us to copy everything from the sequence of the phrase to the placement of our fingers. The teachers at Emory ask for more individuality and less precision, so I do not have a strong attention to detail. I think this class will help me find more dynamic range, learn to follow the teacher's example closely, and notice how important details are in choreography.

Carlos's class was intensely energetic, which was exactly what I needed to keep me going for another 2 hours of dance. It's hard to fall asleep when you aren't allowed to stop moving and jumping. Plus, doing a few minutes of hip shakes while keeping our knees bent is no small feat. I think I already see more definition in my thighs. This class may make me dangerously muscular. 

He said he's going to teach us a few different styles of dance, and today we had a piccola taste of some of them. We did capoeira inspired movements, made even more difficult as he ducked under our kicking legs. He is a brave soul for trying that considering my lack of flexibility. We also did some movements inspired by symbols, which he explained is an important theme. He told us we could take another class with him in town that night, but by the end of the day we were all too tired to walk, let alone take another one of his classes.

My favorite part of both classes was how they taught the choreography. Both Rita and Carlos introduced  short phrases, which we would perform across the floor. With each passing they would add more movement, creating longer sequences. Their use of repetition allowed us to feel comfortable in the sequence so, by the end, we were performing. 

After lunch we had Tarantella with Gianni, but we were so tired we spent most of the time introducing ourselves and working with a combination of sound and gestures. This was a fun, but calm class.

After a lovely shabbat dinner, complete with prayers and all the fixin's, we spent more time getting to know each other over games and the cheapest Italian wine we could find. Naturally, when you put theater and dance students in a small room with wine impressive dancing ensues. Let's just hope we didn't piss of the neighbors.

Today, we all headed into town to explore the mile long market of crap, food, and pigs. So many whole pigs. I also found this sign:

 

And had to include this sign:

Tonight we are all going to see a dance show and eat our first Italian meal in town. I'm off to brush up on my Italian so that I do not accidentally order shrimp covered bacon topped with macademia nuts and nutella. Maybe I'll just stick with gelato. 

Orientation's great! Oh, and "classes" started.

Yesterday was orientation, which is code for a lot of talking and practicing my posture while sitting in cold rooms. We first heard from the president of the program, who explained that the villa is somewhat isolated from "downtown" Arezzo so that we can be with other artists who are 100% devoted to their art. Aka we're an artist kibbutz, with chores and everything. We then met with the main dance teacher, Gianni, who gave us a run through of the schedule, though I didn't catch much because he tends to speak in Italian and I was absolutely overwhelmed by the many teacher names. I did get that he is fantastic and we learn with many different teachers, alternating between styes. We also learned about Italian culture. For instance, do not tip. ever. The pope sucks. Italian boys have all become mama's boys, living with their families into their 40's. And, most importantly, there's a gesture that communicates, "your girlfriend cheated on you because you're impotent" (it's the rock on symbol. be careful.) We also got a tour of the villa, so that I now know how to get around. I must say, it's really nice being on time to a 9 AM class when you don't leave your room until 8:57. We finished off the day singing to a ukelele in a hallway and discussing future travel plans.
Today was our first day of classes. Which, really only consisted of one class because we had to spend hours getting our permissos so that we're not deported. The one class we did have was Tarantella with Gianni, where we spent time practicing our breathing and certain movements related to G-d, love, and instinct. Apparently Tarantella comes from the fields, when workers would get bitten by tarantulas, though Gianni doesn't focus on that story too much. He focused a lot more on teaching us series of movements that we did in a circle and with partners. He had mentioned the dance has roots in African dance, which I really saw today. Both dance forms involve using the same movements in different combinations, and almost in conversation. The dances we did were very relaxed and relied on natural movement, so it was a nice way to get to know a group of dancers, judgement free. I can't tell you a lot of the history behind what we were learning, though, because he really liked speaking in Italian. Thank goodness for hand gestures.
After lunch I took a nice walk up the road, and discovered all the nearby villas and farm. I then got my permesso, and, more importantly, a phone and gelato. I must say, I feel very silly walking into stores and only knowing how to smile and say "grazie," though I'm getting very good at communicating by pointing and accidentally using Spanish. I'm just not used to being so quiet I suppose. I've never been so excited for a language class to start though.

Roughing it in the hills of Tuscany

After spilling sprite over everything I own, thinking I lost Gnoam (I didn't), getting on the wrong train in Rome, and realizing I had no idea what to tell my taxi driver, I somehow made it here. To a villa that overlooks vineyards and the shockingly interesting and lively town of Arezzo. I think it all turned out okay because I found fresh fruit as soon as I landed in the Rome train station. It's always easy to keep my cool when I have apples around.
More to come when I'm not sitting in a room full of my new classmates.