Venice is another world from the one I have known. This weekend was magical, convoluted, lucky. I walked for 16 hours on Saturday, 7 on Sunday: this is destined to be a long post.
Where we have cars, they have boats.
There are no Vespas, no SmartCars, not even bicicletti - just canali, ponti, and marciapiedi.
Life is neccessarily slower.
And during Carnevale, life is weird.
Ducking under the feathers.
I have not been so enchanted with Firenze as I have been with Venezia. It would be hard not to fall in love with it.
Thursday night, Anne and I made masks with materials found at the Euro Store. I cut up a plastic gold mask that originally covered my entire face, and I painted it with nailpolish - the only thick paint I could find at the Euro Store. Then I went in search of feathers on Friday, and I found a cloth base with premounted feathers, so I mounted the plastic mask to the cloth mask for a more comfortable fit.
We took a bus Friday night to Mirano, a little town 30 minutes outside of Venice. We stayed in Leon D'Oro, where they fed us dinner and the best panna cotta I've ever had - it fell apart in my mouth so beautifully! After dinner we discovered the zipline and the trampoline behind the hotel. Zipping through the treeline and bouncing around like a maniac was exactly what I needed after being in Firenze for many weeks.
I went to bed early while the rest of SACI got drunk and loud, as I hadn't been to bed before 5 am for a week and a half (ah, the over-active mind). Then Saturday morning, I woke up, teased my hair out as big as it would get, and painted my face to match my mask.
We had breakfast in the hotel, then got on the bus for Venezia.
SACI people were ready for fun.
When we arrived in Venezia, I walked around with Alex all morning in the unbusy parts, looking for hidden courtyards and small alleys.
After a few hours, we stopped for lunch at the least expensive place we could find. Then we wandered accidentally into Piazza San Marco, where all the festivities and people gather. Alex and I parted ways, as I wanted to wander by myself.
Piazza San Marco: Insanity
I painted my lips gold and dusted my face heavily with shimmer. I wore the gold shawl my mother sent me for my birthday over an all black outfit. Then I played with some strangers, peaking out around corners and dancing under a pathway, acting mysterious.
It's easy to do strange things while wearing a mask.
Lots of people acting mysterious:
There were so many ornate costumes as well.
I saw so many strange things. I was apparently one of them, as several people snapped my photo - one woman was just inches from my face with her telephoto lens. Later, when I was sitting down, a couple approached me and asked for a photo. Then the girl said, "Lui non è il mio fidanzato!" and the man came to put his arm around me for another photo. It was fun being both a spectator and a spectacle.
One man came up to me in full-costume, with a mask to his nose and fabric over his mouth, a rose in hand - he moved towards me slowly like a mime and pulled me into him for a brief kiss through the fabric. At the time I had no idea what was happening; I was very confused as his blue face moved closer and closer to mine. Then my face made a second of contact with the sequins over his mouth, and my eyes popped behind my mask. He twirled away, and immediately after, I laughed to myself and remembered hearing Carnevale in Venezia was famous for strangers doing all kinds of things with strangers.
In the evening, I met up with Marisa, Alex, and our friends Paul and Lindsey. We walked around and looked for a place to eat. We wandered into Ristorante La Feluca. I ordered minestrone all'ortolano - minestrone, grocer's style with fresh vegetables - and the most interesting thing I could find on the menu in the vegetarian section - il camembert caldo con miele d'acacia, le noci, e l'aceto balsamico - warm camembert with acacia-blossom honey, walnuts, pinenuts, and balsamic vinegar. I had no idea what camembert was but when it came, I was excited to dig into the soft, creamy white blob drizzled artfully with honey and crushed nuts.
(For those who aren't more gastronomically educated than me, I looked it up when I got home, and it's a famous soft french cheese.)
After dinner, we wandered over to the Ponte Rialto and down to the square on the other side. I found a drum circle - always my calling - and I stayed to dance in the deep beat of the drums when the others left. I danced with my mask on in the middle of the circle, and I met two girls from Bologna named Debora and Antonella. We danced together for a while, and then we left to go find a bathroom.
When we returned, we immersed ourselves in another square where minimal techno throbbed through the columns. "This is my music!" I thought to myself, and I danced and danced away. Antonella, Debora, and I collected good people along the way and we wandered back over the Ponte Rialto. As the night progressed so did the vibe, and nearing midnight, I realized I wanted to stay. SACI gave us the option of going back on the bus at 12:15 or finding our own accomodations, so I spoke with the girls and they helped me figure out a way back.
I phoned the TA on the trip to let them know, and everything was all set ... until I lost Debby and Antonella in the madness on the way back to San Marco. But I had a map in my pocket, and so I headed that way, thinking I could figure out a way back by myself. I ran into a group of American students who were studying in France but staying in a Venetian hostel; I told them my story, and they said, "Just stay with us! We're in a hostel and there are extra beds."
We wandered around, following the music which originated from a speaker mounted to a cart. It was like a mini-Love parade, with 30-40 people trailing the cart as it went up and down the bridges through the city. We ended up in an empty piazza and danced for a while; I spoke with some guys from Spain and some of the students from France.
I went down by the canal to talk with Phalyn, one girl from the France program. We sat on the steps with our bags behind us and we compared programs. Then when I stood up, my foot slipped on the algae and I slipped into the canal up to my chest. I kicked my legs around to keep afloat and reached for the bottom step to hold on, but it was so slippery that I slipped back into the water. Phalyn grabbed my arm and pulled me up. I wrung out my tights, socks, shirt, boots as best I could, and then we went back to the music.
I could only laugh at first, because the situation was so absurd. Then I could only shiver. I asked the Spaniards where they were going next, since the music had stopped.
They said, "We are going to dance! You just need to dance, then you will be warm!"
One of them gave me his wool sweater, which instantly improved the situation, but it was clear that neither of them realized the seriousness of being wet in the middle of winter.
Since my phone was fried, I decided I needed to find someone from Venice. I went to the guy with the music and told him, "Ho una problema. Sono caduata nell'acqua! Il mio telefonino non è funzione, e ho fredda - troppo fredda."
He felt my legs around my ankles and responded in English, "This has happened to me twice. I live very close to here. You need a hot shower and to get dry quickly. We can go to my house and you will take a hot shower and dry your clothes."
So Enrico and I walked fifteen minutes to his house, where he lives with his parents and sister. We walked quickly to keep me warm.
"Mi sento stupida, Enrico," I told him. I felt I had made a bruta figura, but he reassured me.
"No, no, this happens sometimes. The steps here are a problem. I work on a boat, and people fall in. In the summer it is not a problem, but in the winter you must get dry very quickly."
We arrived to his house, which was a large apartment many flights up with a view of Venice. He showed me where his sister was sleeping, and led me to the bathroom, where he gave me a towel and a hairdryer for my clothes. I showered until my feet no longer felt cold, then dryed my shoes and socks and clothes. I was glad I had worn two pair of tights instead of jeans, as they dried quickly.
I had planned on walking to Piazzale Roma after showering to catch a bus, but by the time I was dry it was somewhere between 3-6 am (I'm not exactly sure, since my phone was salty and wet). Enrico explained that the busses and taxis don't run during these hours, but he offered his couch, which was ready with blankets and pillows. He brought me a sweater and some of his sister's loose pants, and pointed up the stairs.
"Si hai bisogno di qualcosa, sono qui."
"Grazie mille, Enrico."
Then I fell asleep.
I woke in the morning to the sound of someone firing up a gas stove. It was his sister's friend, and she was surprised to see me on the couch. I explained to her why I was there, then asked what time it was. It was 9, so I got ready to meet SACI at Piazzale Roma - the bus was due to arrive at 10:15. While I got ready I heard the many church bells of Venice - it is not like Florence, where the Duomo rings out one chime at a time, loud and clear. The bells echoed off the water and rang like a chorus, one after another after another, each sounding a little different.
More to come ...
