Ciao Milano! (Part 3 ;9)

There were lots of things I really enjoyed on the study tour in Milan. One evening, Delayna and I went on a search for some local, real-deal-brick-oven pizza and it wasn't hard to find. We picked a quaint little place only a couple blocks from our hotel. Delayna ordered a tasty pineapple and ham pizza and I decided to get the one with artichoke and anchovies. I was really excited because I've never had anchovies before, but I've always heard so much about them. They definitely aren't as salty as people say. The pizzas were really good-- it was far too easy to down them in one sitting. Dangerously easy. I also didn't think they were too different from American pizza except that they were simpler and we ate them with a knife and fork like proper Europeans. After we finished we decided to splurge and order desert. When I asked the waiter about it, I thought she was going to bring us a desert menu but instead, after a few moments, I heard this thing moving behind me. When I turned around I discovered she had wheeled up a huge cart full of beautiful chocolate and fruit cakes, and sorbets. I literally did a double take and let out a loud, restaurant-inappropriate "holy crap!" in surprise. I sure had a lot of tasty deserts (and meals) in Italy.

One random memory I have of my time in Milan was on my first day there. We had just arrived and were sent off to explore the fortress in the center of the city for a little while. I had wandered around with Delayna to take some pictures. I noticed that there were quite a few African men standing around selling "prada" bags and carrying little bracelets around. As we made our way back to meet our class (that actually had left us behind so we had to find our own way to meet them at Il Duomo. It was kind of startling at first, but we did really well because I have travelled alone before and she had a very handy map.) one of the African men handed Delayna and I bracelets. I didn't think anything of at first, just taking it because I was kind of spacing out, but then I suddenly I snapped back into travel mode as he said "it's free for you!". I hurridly grabbed the bracelets out of Delayna's hand and started trying to give them back to the man saying "No no no no no!" as he kept insisting they were free (which they were mostly definitely not) and we should keep them. I literally started cornering him so I could drape the braclets on top of his hand because he absolutely refused to take them back. The whole time Delayna looked really confused because she had never been in this situation before but I ended up just hurrying us away after I managed to quickly drape my bracelet on his hand. What a rush, haha.

I think that by far my favorite memory was on our last evening there. After dinner the class went to a jazz show by a fairly famous artist. I was pretty excited at first, imagining myself getting another cool class of amaretto and relaxing with my buddies to some sexy saxaphone crescendos, smooth piano and a velvety voice. Well... I wasn't completely off.

When we got there I went ahead to the bar to order and noticed this lady sitting at the bar with the neatest looking drink in her hands. She was holding onto a fancy silver mug with leaves coming out of it and everything. I asked her what it was and she actually offered me a drink of it. I was really surprised by her generousity but ended up getting my amaretto because it was cheaper (even though her drink was super tasty. 10 euro is a little much...). Everything was going pretty good until the jazz concert started. I think it was literally the worst music I have ever heard. Basically, it sounded like post-modern-experimental-no saxaphone-no-singer-babies-dying-could-you-even-call-it-music??-jazz. Everyone at my table was looking at each other in pained disbelief wondering how long we could stand it. It was just... shockingly bad. After a while, (maybe a half hour?) we all literally started getting irritated (The situation kind of reminded me of how some public buildings play loud classical music around their entrances to keep loiters at bay.) and I felt a headache coming on so we decided to quietly slip out. Best choice ever. My oncoming headache disappeared as soon as I stepped outside.

As we made our way back we came across this lovely band playing some really fun folk music outside. They reminded me of Chervona, a popular local band where I'm from, except the band in Italy had a slightly different sound and a couple different instruments as well. I have no idea what the name of the band in Milan was called except what they were doing was a part of this big clown festival that had signs posted all over the city. This is kind of what they sounded like though:

There was a fairly large crowed gathered too. They were all holding hands and doing cute little jigs and dancing in circles together. Everyone looked like they were having so much fun. Some of the other students noticed too and slowly we all began to get the courage to join. I couldn't resist and so I walked up to the circle and took a couple people's hands in my own and away we went. It was a blast! The songs were so fun, everyone was smiling and laughing at themselves as they fumbled into the steps and it turned out that everyone was learning new little jigs for each song. A lady would come down from the stage, show us another little dance and then hop back up on stage for the next song.

Eventually we switched into couples dancing. A guy around my age came up and asked me to dance so I smiled, took his hand, and joined right in. The next song was more advanced and I had no idea what I was doing so all I could do was laugh as we hopped, clapped, and swung around each other. He and I had the funniest exchange. He hardly spoke any English and together we went through this back and fourth of:

"I can't speak English... Do you speak Italian?"

"No... sorry."

"How about Spanish?"

"Not really... Do you know Danish?"

"Haha, no."

"Japanese?"

"No... What about any Portugese?"

"Not at all..."

In unison: "Oh well..."

But somehow, in a mixture of Italian, Spanish and English, he explained that he was from Egypt and he moved to Italy several years ago and that his Dad was Egyptian and his mother Italian. I'm not even quite sure how we understood each other but it seems like language just blends after a while in this strange way I can't explain. When it was time to leave he told me I was beautiful and kissed my cheek. I remember thinking that the huge smile on his face was simply adorable. It was a good time. :)

The next day, the whole class had some sweet gelato one last time and then we flew back to our new home in Copenhagen.

- Jenn