Life at Luzzago

Last Sunday evening, when my host family picked me up, we left the train station very quickly. In the car, as we drove away from Verona, I soon noticed the different driving practices here in Italy. We flew over speed bumps without slowing down a bit and swung around corners, smooth and fast. The lanes painted on the roads seemed to be taken not as rules, but as suggestions and we flew left or right around any car that dared go even slightly slow in front of us. It felt disconcertingly similar to a roller coaster.

We went to my new home first to drop off my suitcases and so that I could change clothes. Once I'd freshened up, we went out for my first Italian pizza. I got the "Primavera" which had fresh tomato and basil. It was GOOD. Lucrezia (my host sister) got cheese pizza with french fries ON IT, which I've never seen or heard of before. I don't remember what sorts of pizza Giovanni (Lucrezia's boyfriend) and Daniela (my host mother) got, but I do remember that I had some smashing gelato for dessert.

On my first night in my new home I slept very well because I was awfully tired. Lucrezia had to start school Monday morning, but I wasn't starting until Tuesday, so I got to sleep gloriously late. During the day, I went with Daniela to get all the paperwork ready and sent off for my residence permit. I was very jittery and excited for the beginning of classes.

My school, Liceo Scientifico Luzzago, is really great. I've been placed in the fifth and final year of high school here, which is surprising because  I didn't think they ever placed ASF exchange students in this grade. It is supposed to be the most difficult and also they're all intensely studying for the big exit-exams at the end of this year. I'm not concerned much, though. If it is still terribly hard when I learn the language better, I can probably ask to move down in some subjects. The only problem with that would be leaving these classmates. The people in my class are all really nice. They know enough English to help me when I don't understand what's going on, and they help me practice my Italian as well. There are several that I think will become very good friends.

As far as the lessons, at this point I don't know enough Italian to understand more than a few words here and there in most classes. In English, I feel like an expert. We've been watching Dead Poets Society. In Spanish class I can understand some, though Italian and Spanish sound so much alike that it becomes hard to tell when the teacher switches from one to the other. Juggling Spanish AND Italian AND English in my head all at once is very hard. I can hardly handle two languages, let alone three! In math, I feel like I'm supposed to understand more than I do. I think I've covered most of the material before, in math classes at home, but with all the vocabulary and problems in Italian, I still get confused. In the classes like Latin and Italian and History and Physics and such where I can't understand much of anything at all, most of the teachers let me study Italian. I have dictionaries and phrase books and some books intended for teaching Italian children English that seem to be working very well the other way, too. I'm really glad I don't need credits or to be graded for any of this, because while I know the Italian will get ready with time and work, for now I'm struggling.

The school building and the way things work here are quite different from at home. I am in the same room with the same 20 or so students for all my classes, all day. Here, it is the teachers that move from place to place instead. When I was explaining this difference to some of my new friends, they were very impressed. They thought I must feel very grown up to move around my school like a college student. Another difference I've noticed is the way the classroom looks. Unlike at home, the walls here are not covered with inspirational posters or maps or students' work. The walls display only a smart board and a chalk board. There is a crucifix on the upper part of the wall up front and an emergency evacuation plan above the door. In the back, there's a line of hooks for hanging coats. Other than that, the walls are completely bare. The upper halves are painted white and the lower halves pale green. There are no tissues for the students. If you have a cold, you bring your own. There is also no pencil sharpener. Both the classrooms and the hallways are far more clean and tidy than those at my high school back home.

The schedule here is way different. Unfortunately, I must go to school on Saturdays, but it all balances out because the days are much shorter. Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays I get out at 2. Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I'm finished by 1, and on Saturdays I only have to go until 12.

The entry hall is probably the most impressive part of Luzzago. When you walk in, the first thing you see is a GIANT white, green and red Italian flag above the staircase. Going up the stairs every morning, I am always amazed by what I see at the top. There are three marble statues. Two of women and one of a lion, and the ceiling is painted with majestic murals. It is like something out of a museum- so beautiful! It is one of the many things in this new life that consistently makes me pause and say to myself, "Wow. I can't believe this is real. I can't believe I'm in Italy. I am so, so, so lucky!"

 Another thing that always causes this reaction for me is the view from my school's windows. My classroom is only on the second floor so I can just see the sky and the typical red-orange roof of the building across the street, but two stories up, on the 4th and top floor, the view goes on forever out over Brescia. There are roofs and streets and vine-covered walls and courtyards and church steeples and, farther away, the high mountains towering above. Even a castle is visible. On drizzly days like today, the tops of the mountains are covered with clouds. The beauty is breathtaking.

(this doesn't nearly do it justice)

From the website of my school, I could only really gather that there would be stained glass windows in the gym (true) and that I would be taught by monks (only in religion class as it turns out. The main difference in the teachers here is that they're, on average, much younger than at home. I'd say the average age of my teachers is 35. The oldest is 45, at most.). I felt pretty sure that I would like my school, but I had no idea that I would love it as much as I do.

So, now the school aspect is covered up to date. In my next blog entry, I plan to tell you more about my host family and my house and my blossoming social calendar outside of school. It'll be soon. Possibly tomorrow, but I want to finish my first article for the Herald beforehand so it might be a couple of days. Either way, be on the lookout! Ciao!