The Imaginarium of J.M. Adkison

What a Weekend!

Published by J. M. Adkison under on 2:04 AM
So I am currently in the midst of week 3 of my semester here in Florence and it seems like I've been here a whole lot longer-months even. And yet, at the same, strange time, I feel as if time is slipping by like sand caught in a dancing wind that blows around you, swirling about you majestically for a moment, then passes by, leaving only memories and things left jotted down in a journal. But I am nowhere near the end of my adventure, I still have Europe to see and the world to conquer.

But this weekend was perhaps one of the best weekends of my life-riding on the heels of that one special weekend I was crowned king of the Prom.

Friday began early as we all boarded our bus at 8:00 am and headed off for the large village of Lucca, which is one of those many towns within Europe that have been resentful of change and the buildings and roads and churches remain in the medieval ages. You will find no mega churches here or examples of humanity's genius from today. Lucca was nice town, I will admit, but the downpour of rain and the drafty, frostbitten churches and the lack of astonishing facts did not leave us with a good flavor in our mouths and a good memory in our heads. We were rather smitten to be gone from the town and head on towards the rest of the day.

The rest of the day brought Pisa, that legendary architectural mistake that has made every child who has seen its picture in a classroom and every adult lucky enough to visit it. I've probably seen more than a hundred pictures of Pisa in my life, a commonality in today's fast-pace world photography and print. But actually standing at the foot of this famous structure, seeing the angle it was leaning at, and just waiting for it to come crashing down, was unreal. However it was nowhere near as grand as actually climbing the tower it-self. It was one of the strangest things, entering the tower through a crooked door, climbing a spiral staircase that leaned to the left, or right depending on which way you're facing. And then you make it to the top, and you desperately cling to the railing when you see one side of the circular structure much lower than the other. It's one of those memories you will never forget.

I seem to be making a lot of those.

Saturday brought the chocolate and Albanians. After classes on Saturday (yes, we have classes on Saturday-and Sunday) a group of us went to a chocolate fair at the Santa Croce (one of Florence's numerous churches) Square. The place was an inner-ant-mound of excitement as Florentines and tourists alike flocked the white tents, itching to get their hands on the chocolate-covered oranges and cherries and gummy worms. I managed to get a nice brownie smothered in hot fudge. What a treat!

The night brought the Albanians. Currently, Italy is having an explosion of Albanian immigration-which I think is a good thing because Albanians now how to have a good time (I'm absolutely positive that Italians do too, it's just that they're more reserved than Albanians by a long shock). And with the Albanians came dancing. We all sat along the walls of a small room in the Florence Church of Christ, watching these young Europeans hop, skip and smile as they held hands and danced around the room, playing the music of their home. Then gradually, they would pull us in and teach us the dance.

The dances were easy and free, with room for improvisation. The Albanians simply took us by the hand and pulled us into a circle of laughter and twirls. The music was folksy and foreign, like something out of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding".

However, like all dance parties involving Americans, Cascada is going to get involved somehow. Especially when it comes to "Every time we touch". So naturally, I had a good time.

I don't know what it is about dancing, but it is one of my favorite gifts God gave us. And yes, I do believe dancing is a gift He gave us, just like singing, writing, athleticism, drama, public speaking, and health care. And like any of God's gifts, we can use it for good or bad. In the case of Saturday night, it was good. And it was fun.

No matter what anyone says, Harding kids do know how to have a good time, probably a better time than students at other schools, probably because we don't have illegal substances or consume beverages that cause extreme idiocy. And eventually it went from Cascada to Hadaway to Ke$ha. And I had a dance off with an Albanian, who may or may not have, gone easy on me. But whatever the outcome-it was fun.

Sunday brought a pot-luck. I know you actually don't spell pot-luck like "pot-luck" but for the sake of everyone else, I'll call it "pot-luck". The food was great and the compay even greater. I think friends make food taste better-that's probably false-but it does make meals more enjoyable. It's the little things of Italy as well that makes this trip grand. After the pot-luck we had a quick battle of the sexes pictionary game and some chili.

And then we went to the soccer-or futbol-whatever you want to call it- game and it was quiet an experience. When you think Americans are bad about their favorite sports teams and hating on their rivals, Italians are worse, much worse. It was Florence verses Rome, the purple and white verses the red and black...respectively.

I think since Italian cities no longer fight wars and try to conquer each other, they've turned to soccer as their outlet for violence, obscenity and hometown pride. But since Florence lost 1-0, the city was not a happy place.

Extreme sport-pride makes me angry and embarrassed to be sharing the same gender with these so-called "manly men". When you see grown men cursing their hearts out, pouring beer the color of urine down their gullets with the gluttony of a troll, pathetically living vicariously through the athletes they always dreamed to be, but somehow let a beer-belly get in their way, and have a temper-tantrum worthy of a two-year-old when something they have absolutely no control over whatsoever did not go their way. And boy, did I see that at the soccer game last night.

Now I'm not generalizing in anyway or saying all sports fans are like this-I would be an idiot to say that. But the way the men acted at the game last night absolutely revolted me. And I know similar actions take place in the States.

However, we were able to watch the Super Bowl last night here in the Villa, so my respect for sports fans lifted somewhat because there was no cussing or beer-drinking, although the coke we had tasted really funny....

But that is what happened to me this past weekend my faithful readers. It was a good weekend to lighten my spirits and make memories to last a lifetime.

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