The Irony

Oh, the irony! There are a number of festivals that go on this time of year. One of them is the Castagne Festival in Preggio. I went to it the weekend before last. The excitement! The adventure! The... unexpected... ness.

I did not know what kind of festival it was until Gino got us into the car and we left for Preggio. Apparently, he'd forgotten what kind of festival it was until that morning.

Castagne, my friends, is Italian for chestnut. As mentioned in the previous blog, I am allergic to chestnuts. I broke out in hives in second grade on Christmas Eve and found out that Santa was not real... it's ok, I just remember being to itchy to care that my parents were stuffing my stocking.

Since then, my curiosity has been satisfied as to the flavor and nature of this curious dark brown nut. But it is very difficult to explain to someone who does not speak English that the reason that I was not participating in the wonders of chestnuttery was not because I was being picky or a fussy American, but that simply I could not eat them. So I just lived with Gino calling me a "fussy American woman."

My roommate, dear Grace, the same weekend went to the International Chocolate Festival in Perugia. I can't completely say that I am jealous (no sarcasm. Honest.) Apparently, as it was the first weekend of the festival, it was over packed and there was not much variety in the kinds of chocolate they had. In other words, she said that most booths sold the exact same brands. She did buy some Italian Hot Chocolate. Italian Hot Chocolate is very different from American Hot Chocolate. American Hot Chocolate is like... flavored water in comparison. Italian Hot Chocolate is basically hot chocolate pudding. It thick, frothy and amazing.

It's ok. I am glad I went to the Castagne Festival. I still had fun, I just couldn't eat much there. We did finally find something without chestnut in it, lamb on a skewer. I enjoyed it thoroughly.

About food here, big surprise, everything is Italian food. (Duh, you're in ITALY! Enjoy the food while you can!) But friends, there is only so many ways that one can fix pasta, and I have had them all here, I am sure. Actually, everyone is getting sick of Italian food. I broke down last week and bought a pack of Oreos (they come in boxes of four packs... this is nice because that way one does not serial eat Oreos). This week, people were making hamburgers and steaks in the kitchen We don't get steak a whole lot at Tonino's (the place we eat every night), so everyone who was not a vegetarian was drooling over the variety of red meat in the kitchen this last weekend.

I personally made some chili. It was slightly too spicy, but I enjoyed it anyway. I didn't get many takers on it though :\ It isn't really all that much fun to cook for oneself I learned. There has to be someone to enjoy it. It's like art. Art for oneself has a place, but usually it is restricted to sketchbooks and journals, where it's more of a processing than actual 'art.' Art is meant to be enjoyed by more than one person.

And now for this weekend. I've gotten really bad at taking pictures on this trip. It's difficult since all of the places seem to run together and there are very few that really stand out in my mind. This last weekend we went to Voltarra and San Gimigiano. I think that San Gimigiano will definitely forever stand out in my mind. First place, it is the location of "The World's Best Gelato." No joke. This place has won the World Gelato Competition two years running. I must say, it was pretty good gelato (but again, I am really over gelato, also. Give me Ben and Jerry's. Please.)

Second, it is the home of not one, but two Museums of Torture. We went to both. I thought it would be a fun Halloween activity. Friends, I do not recommend them. It sounded so cool at the beginning... until you realize that people actually were tortured in these ways and are still tortured in some of the ways displayed. The best/worst part were all the wax figures that were being mutilated in various ways. It is enough to turn one's stomach. I was already feeling rather ill from the bus ride over. It was an odd mixture of revulsion and fascination, which is, I am sure, the feeling that most got from walking in there... probably the entire purpose. I just felt sorry for all the kids going in there with their parents.

(And now on to something completely different...) The other night we watched the bronze pour. That, my friends, was exciting. They had been preparing for it all weekend. They had to do a burn out, first. This is when, once the wax pieces are set inside a plaster and brick dust mixture, all of the wax is burned away leaving a hallow mold in which to pour the bronze. This took three days of watching the flame/temperature, making sure that it did not go out or vary. Then they melted the bronze and poured it. It was spectacular. I didn't get any pictures, but there will be another bronze pour on Friday night, so maybe I'll get some pictures then.

It's crunch time. We are getting ready for our exhibition and all of our classes are winding up. This means that I have a test and a paper on Friday and on top of that, I should be working very hard on The Boyfriend. Oddly, my "downtime" right now consists of drawing, which I find ironic since I find drawing very frustrating. My final project in drawing is... drawing people sleeping... like actually sleeping. Not just modeling as sleeping, but in their beds... sleeping. This means that I have to either wait until they are asleep, or do as I did this morning and get up at 6:30 to catch some of my friends asleep. Don't worry, I asked permission about twenty times to do so. It's kind of an awkward assignment I have chosen for myself, but I like it.

ok... should be in Italian right now (blah)...