When the Grey Beard rolls in, I am caught between clouds. Above me and below.
When the valley is cloud filled and I stand near the cliff wall in Orvieto, I feel as though I’m living on a cloud. These moments often reinforce the feeling of living in a dream state.
My life in Orvieto moves at a relaxed pace. I often wake up at 8 am and make it to bed by midnight or 1 am. I could get use to this.
*For those who don’t know my normal semester sleep habits: I go to bed between 2-3 am and get up at 7-9 am.
A day in Orvieto:
Wake up at 8am, leave for Centro Studi by 8:45 and still arrive 10 minutes before class. Class from 9am- 1pm. Break for lunch until 2:30. 2nd class 2:30 to 4:00 pm. The sun sets between 5pm and 6pm during this time I often try to walk the city and sketch. Occasionally I stay at the Centro Studi until 5:45; it Closes at 6pm. Somewhere between 5-7 Gretchen and I finally decide what to make for dinner. After washing dishes, the question become what to do until bed time. The answer is often visiting other apartments where we play cards for a couple hours, doing homework, meeting classmates at the bars, or Skyping with family.
Exploring Orvieto?
This can also be called a derive. I don’t really ever set out with a destination in mind. I just wander around taking a closer look at the buildings and piazzas. When I find something that fascinates me I either stop to take pictures or I find a spot to sit and sketch. The result is often questioning looks from resident Orvietans. Occasionally some will stop to ask me who I am and where I am from. Others have gotten use to seeing me around and assume that I am American. A few times my wandering has lead to conversations of 1/3 English, 2/3 Italian and Between lots of hand gestures….we have a conversation.
Conversational Examples:
While admiring the Duomo with binoculars, I have talked to a Fireman, who explained generally about the frescos on the front of the Duomo. (This one was primarily English).
While looking at a cookbook in front of a store, an elderly man walks up to me and starts talking about himself. He is a Professor of Philosophy. The professor told me his life story. I think I understood most of it but only because he used big hand gestures, a little English, and showed me news articles. (He joked about how he felt very comical using all these hand gestures)
I had some wonderful conversations with them. Now when I walk the streets, I recognize them and wish them a good morning.
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