It was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort

( Okay, so I don’t live in a hobbit-hole, but I finally finished the book yesterday so I figured it was appropriate)

Normally, unpacking is not very high on my list of preferred activities. Like, at all. My mother can attest to how many times she has to ask me to bring down my suitcases at summer because I am just such a rebellious youth and only want to do what I want to do. HOWEVER that is primarily because the true significance of the action has been previously taken for granted.  The fact that I am finally able to unpack and feel settled in Bologna is an amazing feeling. To understand exactly why, let me give you a glimpse at my first week in Bologna and explain why I haven’t posted since I have gotten here:

As many of you know, before arriving here I did not have a place to live once I got here. Yeah, just casually. The program that I am on put us up in a hotel for ten days and in that time we had to venture out into the city, find “annunci” about open rooms in apartments, call total strangers, speak to them in totally broken Italian and somehow convince them that I would be a great addition to their living situation. YEAH RIIIIIIGHT. I told myself that I probably wouldn’t be adding to this blog until I succeeded at this effort (so, yes, this story has a happy ending). 

The second day I was here I bought a phone (for only 20 euros. HELLO T-9 mode, we meet again) and started this process. It’s totally crazy how much this messed with me! The actual process really isn’t that bad. I set my expectations pretty low so I was just happy when people responded to my questions as if they actually understood them. But not knowing where I was going to live reeeeaally stressed me out. I realized that I really have never felt very stressed before. Like, ever. Apparently there are physical signs of it! For the past week I have not been able to eat or sleep very well. My stomach was constantly in knots and my mind was always racing, thinking about what I could be doing and just worrying. My program director from the very beginning that “this is not stressful. War and sickness are, this is not”.  A valid point, but still I could not deny the toll it took on my body.

But, alas, for a full week I made numerous awkward phone calls that all went about like this:

Me: “Ciao! Sono una studentessa Americana e cerco una stanza. Ho visto il tuo annuncio- la stanza e ancora libera?” (Basically, “hi I am an American student looking for a place to live. I saw your ad, is your room still free?” )

(Random Italian man or woman. Let’s go with Serena because she is one of the people that broke my little heart) Serena : “si, e ancora libera”

Me: “Si? Va bene!”

*series of questions/ comments to all of which I typically replied with “si, si*

Serena: “Per quanti mesi sei qui?” (how long are you here for)

Me: “Solo per quattro mesi, BUT….. (This was the dealbreaker. Only four months. NO ONE wants to rent a place for four months. I would say this and then begin rattling off a list of reasons why they should take a chance on me anyways because I am such a nice person and good tenant, but it was always too late)

Serena: Non e possibile, mi dispiace, ciao BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

Me: *cries quietly to self”

Eventually I did get some appointments and saw  about 6 apartments and went through a very weird courting process until, finally, I found my home. After a week of constantly checking my phone in hopes of a “second date” with people whose apartments I had seen, and driving myself crazy, I have a place in which I can unpack all of my stuff and settle in.

I am sharing a room with my friend from the program, Raquel, in a lovely little apartment consisting of two Italian students (Andrea and Francesco)  a girl from China and a to-be-determined sixth roommate.

Raquel in our new room!!

It needs some work, but this is my bed for the next four months

I promise I will get better at taking pictures...

 Last night, Andrea, cooked me and Raquel our first homemade Italian dinner of zucchini risotto. We sat around the table for a long time talking, eating and drinking wine with Andrea and the Giacomo (Francesco's brother) and eventually some of their friends came over and we explored Bologna a little. It was a perfect first night in the apartment. And this, it feels very good to say, is my table:

YUM!