June 9th: Pizza and Soccer

June 9th, Monday

11:40 pm

I got a scare last night when I realized that my suitcase was missing. I looked under the bed, behind the desks, everywhere. I was about to go downstairs to ask when I realized that my violin was missing too… and then I REALLY freaked out. After a few minutes of this full-blown freaking out, Sam found both of them in the huge closet, where I don’t store anything, ever. The girls told me that their beds were made when they got back, so there must be cleaning people who come into the room and tidy up during the day. Is this normal in the States? I can’t remember. Either way, it was not pleasant to find out this way.

Around dinnertime, Mara was dying to watch the soccer match, Italy vs. Netherlands, and I’m always up for a game so I offered to go along. Five of us girls from the convent went over to the pizzeria across the street, unfortunately only to watch the Italians get stomped on. We were there an hour before the game started, so we ordered our pizzas (evidently a “regular cheese pizza” is called a margherita here, but it’s not the same as the American version). The owner of the ristorante was a friendly, bespectacled 50-something who we could tell was thrilled to have us there watching the game, and despite the language barrier treated us no differently than if we were his regulars… except for the “How to Order in Your Language” pocketbook he discreetly slipped onto the table.

As it was nearly seven o’clock, we were surprised to be the only table in the pizzeria that was occupied, forgetting that Italians have their dinner much later than we are accustomed to. But by the time we had finished our pizzas, a handful of men had entered the room, and were glued to the TV and engaging in friendly (although anxious) conversation about the game.

The atmosphere was great. Eating was easy. The rest wasn't....

-Dilemma 1: After debating whether it was customary to take home the remnants of one’s dinner, I finally just asked the waiter the best I could, to which he responded, “si, certo,” and Laura was free to take the rest of her pizza back to the convent.

-Dilemma 2: We were just about to leave when the waiter quietly set on the table some biscotti and vin Santo, compliments of the house. We had to stay for a bit longer. Now came a second problem: do we drink all of what he gave us in the crystal pitcher? Or are we just supposed to take a glass and then give it back? Should have read up on this… We decided to leave about a third of what he offered, hoping that we hadn’t guessed wrong and that it was actually rude not to finish it.

Mara lives much farther away from the university than those of us in the convent do, so Laura and I offered to walk her home. On the way, just down the street from the convent, we heard the shouts of an excited crowd. Already knowing what it would be, we hurried up the hill and around the corner to see a noisy bunch of probably a couple hundred italiani centered around a gigantic TV screen on the street. There was chatter everywhere, and all sort of local people gathered to see the game – mostly teenagers, but also grown men, and a few scattered women with their children. They didn’t seem to be much aware of each other – every eye was focused on the screen. I couldn’t watch much of the game, as it was too much fun to watch the people instead. At every good play, bad play, trip, yellow card, and substitution, the noise grew to a roar, followed by hands in the air and boos and shouts that lasted until well after the play was over.
After ten minutes, it was getting chilly and we decided we’d better go…. but I would have loved to stay and witness the crowd later in the game, when the Netherlands scored their third goal of the night.

I returned to the room tonight to find Sam and Cree squealing over the large gnat-like bugs all over the place. I was especially disgusted to find one crawling over my pillow. We decided to close the window.