La Bella Citta Siena

You know those places, like Hollywood for example, that have a lot of pictures and stories that glorify them and create high expectations, but once you see it in person you realize the place is flat out dirty and really not that great?

Siena is not one of those places.

It literally looks the same as it does in all the pictures, even if those pictures are dating back to the 1300s. I seem to have chosen the ideal place to recover from such a traumatic event.

This week I am attending school at the Dante Alighieri Institute. It is only one language class, but already I feel like I’m getting better (although I still have a LONG way to go). My teacher, Mari Angela, reminds me so much of my best friend’s mom Susan. She is so sassy and so Italian (and also very pregnant, but that doesn’t make me think of Susan), and gives her students the some of same looks she gives her daughter. And I love it.

(yes, the view from my classroom is as distracting as it looks)

We were also given a little lesson on medieval art by the local native Rebecca, who is studying for her masters in art history. She has a very strong Sienese accent, meaning she doesn’t pronounce her “C’s” making the language even harder to understand.

Apart from school, I bought my first pair of Italian shoes! Sandals to be exact. Birkenstock knock-offs, (they are quite popular here), and make my feet very happy.

I am also loving the food and have to resist buying a gelato from every store we pass (there are plenty). My favorite place so far has been a small paninoteca behind the Palazzo Pubblico where we got a fresh Panini with fontina and prosciutto. It is probably the simplest, yet best sandwhich I have ever eaten.

Although that doesn’t compare to dinner Monday night when our Nonna (the widow with whom I’m living with) made zucchini and ricotta pasta and chicken with lemon, olive oil, and rosemary (starting tonight, my camera is accompanying me to every meal). Her meals are made even better by the fact that she grows almost all of the fruit and vegetables we eat in her garden (she even makes her own olive oil).

Her house would definitely be described as “quaint,” but it is perfect.

And Michelle and I get to sleep with the Madonna above our head each night (extra protection right?).

Although we have to deal with some heat and sweat (my skin has been happier), there is very little I would trade to be apart from Siena (except maybe Roma this weekend).