Lost II

I have a feeling this title is going to be part of a series by the time I'm finished here. Anyways, spoiler-alert, I survived!

So I just got back from Florence, but I can't blog about it yet because my pictures are still uploading. So, I'm going to kill some time talking about how a disastrous night turned really good Thursday night.

So Thursday night was the start of my Extreme Language Exchange which is held every Thursday night from 7:30-9:30 at a bar called M8 Bar in the Trastevere area (the area of Rome that's between where I live and Vatican City/(Country?). )

So I got done my Business Law class at 6:40. That class by the way, is one of the coolest ones I've ever taken. It's basically a law101 class and we're learning everything about the legal system from the very basics up. It's making me really interested in that career path and my teacher, who used to be a lawyer for the U.S. Army, put in a plug for that position for anyone who wants to be a lawyer and doesn't mind traveling. Sign me up. Oh and it just so happens that a man who sits next to me in Italian class everyday is a lawyer for the Marines here in Italy and also really enjoys it.

Anyways, back to this pub/class. So I left AUR after I got out of Business Law with a mental snapshot of what GoogleEarth told me to do to get to this pub from school. If I did it right, I should get there in 20-25 minutes by walking (I'm still learning the bus routes, that is, when they're not on strike.) I started out on the right roads but quickly knew I was not going the right direction. My first bad sign was that there were no other signs of human life anywhere near where I was going. But I had my Rolling Stones playlist going on my iPod so I kept trekking obliviously. Then I turn a corner and two camouflage army jeeps are parked with about 8 soldiers carrying huge machine guns standing guard. Apparently the road I was about to keep going on was not for people like me. At the first sight of me, one of them raised his hand palm out towards me, (universal sign for 'do not enter'). He was about to go on and explain why it is I can't enter, but I quickly gave out a "Mi Dispiace" and briskly went the other way. You've got a machine gun and there's 8 of you, you don't need to give me an explanation.

Let's try another direction. So now, with "Jumpin' Jack Flash" on mute, I start going down another road. The sun has been long gone at this point in the night. So I started going in another direction because intuition says that this bar is not near the people with guns (those are just the bars that Plaxico Burress goes to). So for all my avid blog readers, you'll remember how I talked about a big hill that overlooked all of Rome in this park that I went through on the bus ride to the Vatican Wednesday? If not just read the blog below this. Anyways, turns out I ended up there which was both good and bad for two reasons each. It was good because I recognized the park and the incredible view of the whole city lit up from the top of a huge hill. It was also good because I now knew about where I was. Bad News: 1. I was in a deserted park, with no lighting at the top of a huge isolated hill. 2. I now knew that I was nowhere near where I need to be, which was mainly down in the city and not up on a huge hill. Hopeless Frustration.

It's now about 7:20. I've got 10 minutes to get to where I need to be. I quickly got out of that creepy park as I imagined how perfectly I could have become the plot for a Hollywood horror movie. No more Stones on the iPod, switched on my gym playlist in hopes that Kanye could get me amped up and out of there. Somehow, after a series of random turns I actually ended up, out of nowhere, on a very busy street dodging scooters left and right. I stopped the first 4 people I ran into. None of them spoke any English and none of them had heard of the pub I was trying to find. Figures. For all lovers of irony out there, about 1 hour later, I would learn all necessary words for directions and getting lost at the Italian language thing at the bar because the one lady gave me directions on how to get to Trastevere but I didn't yet know that 'girare sinestra' meant turn left and 'girare adestra' meant turn right, which again, I learned about an hour later. Shoot, another spoiler alert, I got there eventually. Don't worry, I'll still keep you in suspense. So finally now that I had cell service I figured it was time to make a call. I called my apartment land line and had my roommates Google where I was. At 16 cents/minute I had to be quick. I found out I was a few miles away from where I needed to be, which was bad considering I started out at AUR less than a mile away.

Wow this story is going on forever, good news my Florence pictures just finished uploading. Okay let's speed this up. So I get their directions and hang up. 15 minutes later I realize I'm going the wrong way, still. I am so close to giving up and just trying to retrace my steps to get back to school. Another expensive call. Finally get my bearings. 25 minutes of wandering later I get to the bar, more than fashionably late. It was all worth it. These local Italians at the bar were so nice and helpful. I learned more useful phrases and words in that 90 minutes I ended up being there than I would have in 2 weeks worth of classes. I can't wait to go back next week and learn even more. They taught me practical everyday words, stuff textbooks don't. The one lady I met kept telling me I was talking like a book instead of a person and corrected on me on the words I was using that were too formal. Keep it up and she said I might be able to fool a couple of people on my heritage. Score.

Alright, Florence pictures are successfully uploaded and given captions. Sorry if this completely wasted your time. Anyways, Florence blog to come. Here's a teaser: 40 Hours. Lost train tickets. More lost train tickets. Barely boarding in time. Duomo. Churches. Churches. Churches. Tombs. Dante. Michelangelo. Galileo. Da Vinci. Churches. Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Rude Waiter. Bats, everywhere. Hostel, no water. Pizza. Almost missing the train home.

Cool (or Figo, as I learned the other night), check back tomorrow, time for bed.