Study Abroad/Study Away  

Giedre Krulikas

Semester/Year: Spring 2008

Admiring scenic views while exploring Roman ruins

Upon my arrival in Cortona, Italy, a month and a half ago, I was told that the day you don't notice the bells ringing is the day you know you've been here for a long time.

Dusk is settling in, and I've got my window thrown wide open. It's a little nippy outside, but still warm enough to linger over the last bit of daylight. I can smell the wood-burning fires that all self-respecting Italian restaurants use to make their pizza, and I'm listening to a dozen different bells toll.

This is Cortona - a tiny, little town that sits on the top of a mountain. It's surrounded by ancient city walls and overlooks a breathtaking view of valleys and distant mountains. The first night we got here the wind was so strong that it felt like I'd be completely swept away.

While falling asleep, I could easily imagine myself in a remote castle a couple hundred years ago. I'm not too far off - the dorm that students stay in is a 14th century renovated convent. It's made up of echoing hallways, stone steps and tall ceilings, with modern touches such as bathrooms, electricity and most importantly, heat.

Within my first hour here, I fell head over heels in love with Cortona. It's the ideal Italian town, small enough to be warm and friendly, but large enough that its maze of tiny cobblestone streets never ceases to amaze me with twists, turns and surprises. No matter how many times I walk around town, there are always details to notice and more cool places to explore.

For example, I walked up and down the steep hill leading up to school more than a dozen times before I noticed a giant mural on the side of a church. It's not that I'm blind or completely unobservant (although that's not entirely out of the question), but there's just so much to see, not counting a terrific view that changes daily depending on the weather.

Perched on the city wall today, I saw a random house with the most detailed fresco in the eaves of the roof. You'd never see that in the States, ever.

Then there's the architecture itself; I feel like a little kid at a playground. There are arches, buttresses, giant cathedrals, covered walkways between buildings, tiny churches, bell towers, domes, alcoves, crumbling steps, walled gardens, the tiniest and narrowest streets you can imagine and big, broad streets that lead to the city walls.

The company isn't bad either: young Italian couples strolling with their children, old grandmas scolding in loud Italian, friendly shopkeepers, loud students, Canadian backpackers from the hostel, tourists in town for the day, an inquisitive chicken wandering the street, and a snobby tomcat basking in the middle of the piazza.

The biggest cultural change for me here has been the concept of time. There isn't one. No one is ever punctual - even those hot Italian guys coming to pick you up for a date. Being 15 minutes late isn't worth worrying over and being half an hour late is completely normal. For an early-bird-catches-the-worm American like myself, for whom time is a valuable commodity, it was so hard to adjust. Churches may or may not start Mass on time, or maybe they'll just decide not to start at all. It's happened to me while sitting on a cold pew in an empty church, wondering if I missed the memo.

Every day, throughout Italy, there's an established "siesta" from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. where everything closes down. I can't count how many times I've industriously walked all the way downhill to run errands only to find the entire town closed up. Even outside of siesta stores might or might not be open, or will be open so rarely (think two days a month) that you have to wonder how people make a living here.

Once you adjust to this slower pace, however, it's incredibly relaxing. You find it so much easier to appreciate the little everyday details. Instead of running up the hill, you find yourself enjoying a slow walk.

Food stops being something that's grabbed on the run and becomes a form of art to linger over. Most importantly, the biggest decision you have to make every day is gelato, wine or both?