May 14, 15 and 16

Well, the trip started off with a startling event. Mom and I were leaving my apartment at six in the morning to head off to get some coffee and breakfast, and then go to the airport. We were turning a corner to go to the main street behind my apartment when mom spotted something on the ground. It was an unconscious, young small man, we thought he was dead at first. He was barefeet and had foam around his mouth-it was pretty shocking and we called emergency services. They got there in less than 5 minutes so we left him in good hands. It was pretty scary and alarming though. It would have been quite ominous if we found a dead person to begin my trip with!

Most of my flight went smoothly, I didnt have any trouble with my transfer in Phil. The air line attendants were really nice to me and I was one of the first ones to board the plane to venice even though I was in boarding group number 7. Two older women who happened to be sitting with me and talking to me also got to come on with me, because they happened to be with me! They were rather pleased about this. they were two really nice older ladies, both widows, and both kept referring to me as so sweet and brave (because of doing simple things like informing the airline attendants that I was deaf, so I would need to know if there were any announcements or anything else important). I didnt sleep a wink on the 8 hour flight though, because it was just darned uncomfortable, and when I did finally try to nod off to sleep, I pushed my seat back just one inch, and the boy behind me started kicking! And he was in his mid twenties at least. I turned around, gave him a hard glare, and said, rather than asked, Is there a problem? The kicking stopped after that but just couldnt get back to sleep.

We landed in Venice, and we happened to be quite late. I found this out because when I exited the plane, there was an airline woman waiting for me, she was quite friendly though. She took me on a shortcut through the airport and in a cordoned off area, scanned my bag and had me walk through a metal detector. At this time, I didnt now that I was actually being rushed through customs and immigration. She stamped my passport, but I didnt even notice. I guess they assumed I knew I was going through it quickly--its possible that they did this because I was deaf. This led to a bit of a heartache at the Rome airport though. When the smaller plane that I was on landed in Rome, we walked off the plane and onto a shuttlebus, which took us to Terminal B... and when I got there, all I saw was the luggage claim area and large signs over several doors saying, "Way Out." I was getting really confused at this point because I didnt know I had already gone through immigrations and customs, and my list of instructions indicated this was my top priority at the Rome airport.

I went through the "Way Out" doors since there was no other apparent exit, and I got even more anxious when I saw it was just an area leading to taxi pick ups, restaurants and so on. I didnt want to be an unauthorized immigrant or something and I was getting really nervous--it didnt help that I hadnt slept in over 24 hours or eaten in over 12. I went to a booth that said "Information" to ask for help, but the women there just rudely dismissed me, shouting, "No English." I was taken aback, but I wandered around the terminal a little bit, trying to find any indication of customs or immigration. Finally I went back to the information booth, the tears starting. I always wondered why it has to come to tears before anyone at a major airport will help you? I struggled to find my little book of Italian phrases in my tightly packed carry on bag, and wrote in Italian, "Please help me. I am sorry. I am deaf. I need to find immigration. I am on my own." (mi spiace, cerco dogana, sono ipoudente, viaggio da sola.") They finally seemed to get it, but they didnt understand what I meant by "sono ipoudente" until I pointed to my ears and cried. After that, there was a lot of anxiety. I think me telling them I was deaf and alone and that I was in tears made them feel really bad, and just as rightly they should! A man came to help, although he didnt speak more than a few words of English too. The women were more concerned, and made body language motions indicating, "Calm down, it is ok!" and I indicated more or less back to them that I was trying, by taking big sighs, nodding and trying to smile. I followed the man and a young lady from the information booth back to where I had gone through the way out doors, and they spent a considerable amount of time talking with the Italian police and showing them my ticket and passport. I was pretty nervous by this point.

then we went upstairs and to another part of the airport and actually found someone who spoke passable English. He had a really heavy accent though, so I found it very difficult to understand him verbally, and he had a hard time understanding me too because of my deaf accent. So we did a lot of writing of simple phrases, and there was much inspecting of my ticket and passport. I wrote down that I thought I had missed a step somewhere, that I missed going through immigration somehow. Finally they opened up to look for a stamp in my passport, and the man said, "You have the stamp from Venice!" Realization dawned, and I was like, "Ohhh..." and I wrote down, "I got confused! I did not know I got a stamp!" This was the easiest way to tell them that I didnt realize I had gone through customs and immigration already, I couldnt give them that much detail. I told the man to please tell the other people (there was an MP there too) and he did so, and everyone started cracking up. I think they were just relieved we had gotten to the root of the issue! I was really relieved that they werent angry about me causing a lot of worry for no reason. A lot of body language was used to try to communicate, and I did my best to show them my relief, there were hands patted reassuringly on arms and so on. Then I asked the first man, the one who didnt speak much English, if he would please take me to the train station (I pointed it out in my Italian-English book). He wholeheartedly and enthusiastically did so, and I said grazie about ten times to the other people involved.

I didnt want to fool with having to fork over a hundred euros to some taxi driver that I might not understand and possibly be scammed by. The train station turned out to be a breeze, and really cheap. The only possible place for concern was the Termini station, which is the midway train station between the Rome airport and Frascati, where I had to change train. I was warned there were gypsy children who engaged in scams to allow other people to steal stuff from you by distracting you with maps and so on, so as soon as I got off the train, I scowled and tried to look as unpleasant and gangster as possible. No gypsy children approached me, and I avoided anyone that even remotely looked gypsy or suspicious in the slightest bit. The ride to Frascati was absolutely lovely, saw grapevine fields and an old Roman aqueduct and rolling hills. I arrived in Frascati around 2PM, it is slightly under a hour train ride from the Rome airport. Frascati is actually on the top of a small mountain so the train kept climbing higher and higher into the Italian landscape. Really great. By the time I got there, I had to climb a thousand freaking steps with my 25 pound bag, and I found my hotel when I saw two classmates. They helped me check in, and then I ate a panini, and then I went to bed at 5 in the afternoon and woke up around six the next morning.

Yesterday was my first fully refreshed day in frascati. I found my interpreter and the teachers! They had come in around midnight after I had come in and had a terrible traveling experience. I went to the grocery store first thing in the morning and spend a good two hours in a little Italian grocery store. It was pretty fun, I actually drew pictures when I couldnt find something I needed, and that worked like a charm. There was also this little, tiny hunched over Italian woman who grabbed my arm, chattered in Italian and pointed to something at the top of a shelf, it was pretty obvious she was saying something like "Young lady, get that for me!!!" I happily obliged. I got assorted inexpensive 1 pound bags of snacks like graham crackers and toiletries and so on. I tried to use whatever snatches of Italian I could, because if you are in another country, you should try to speak their language. In the checkout counter, the woman be hind me in line was very friendly and asked me where I was from in English. We chatted, I told her her town was just absolutely beautiful, (bella). Then she leaned forward, and asked with eager anticipation, "Obama or Clinton?" McCain wasnt even a consideration here. I was like, "Wow! Well if I have to pick, Id say Obama" to satisfy her. The rest of the day was spent with my two classmates, Mica and Kate, who are also my roommates, and very good ones indeed, or my interpreter Natasha. We found a wonderful art store, and I have made friends with the woman in the art store, who insists I help her with her English if she helps me with my Italian. I purchased some nice art supplies there so I could color Italian landscapes, and when I went for a return visit with the other girls because they wanted art supplies too, I asked for scissors, and the lady gave them to me free of charge. I was shocked! She taught me to say "forbiche," (for-bee-chay) which is Italian for scissors... I have to know this for the next time I go back there!

I am at an Internet cafe, and running out of minutes. I will continue this post later! I am keeping everything written down in a journal so I can remember everything to post here.

Love to all, and ciao!!