The Onslaught of Oppertunity

Well, it has been a over a week since I caught you up last, and so I believe it is time to do so again. I would have done so earlier, but as my internship reaches its final weeks, I find myself busier than ever, both in the office and out of it.

In the office, the upcoming biennial Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) conference next week is keeping everyone busy, especially with the visit of Acting Secretary of Agriculture for the US Charles Conner. Making sure that his crew is satisfied and equipped to do business is a challenging task indeed. Additionally, there are controversial issues to be address at the conference, so consensus needs to be formed prior to its start. So there is plenty for our small office to do.

Most of my work is organizing information for the conference binders and position paper tracking, which is tedious but absolutely necessary. I have been making quite a few spreadsheets in Microsoft Excel and have recently become known as “the Matrix Guy” for my work. Though I insist that it is not that difficult, everyone is really impressed that I can use colors, varied lines, and tight spacing in these charts. At first, I offered to help others organize their own spreadsheets, but in our time-crunch, it has just become my job. I make charts look pretty. Though it is not a title I would like to hold long-term, for being an intern, I am happy just to be known for something, even if it is as simple as “the Matrix Guy.” When it comes down to it, I am happy to be actually contributing.

Outside of the office, I have been extremely busy in preparing for my family’s and girlfriend’s trip in December and in making the most of this experience while it lasts. The latter included ending the running strike that I started after the Run-for-Food destroyed my feet. I ran for three of the week’s lunches in the park, rinsing off in the office shower before sitting down at the computer again. Thursday night I attended a young adult Bible Study with the International Christian Fellowship, which provided my with the spiritual nourishment I usually get on Wednesday nights at school. Speaking of nourishment, I also made the most complicated meal I have ever dared to create with great success. It was just spaghetti with ground beef, fresh tomatoes, basil and provolone cheese, but it was challenging given my limited cooking space.
Friday was not my best day, however. Not only did my workload overflow out of my control, but the pizza I had for lunch was a huge disappointment. It was supposed to be some of the best in town, but it was so hot and greasy that my mouth was peeling and my stomach was upset a few hours later. Of course, this decreased my productivity, which made me feel awful, since I had so much to do. When I left work, though, I felt alright, since I knew that tomorrow was the start to another exciting weekend. Since my Eurail Pass was activated, I have tried to travel every weekend, knowing full well that side-tripping through Italy is a opportunity that must be seized.

On my travels, many people have found it odd that I would travel alone. Sure, it has its drawbacks, you can get lonely from time to time, but it has its freedoms as well. Especially when the lone traveler has a flexible Eurail Pass, from which you purchase days of travel and not the ticket cost from one place to another. So last Saturday, instead of stopping at my original planned destination, the Cinque Terre, I rode for another hour until I came to the fair city of Genoa.

I would never have heard of or even been slightly interested in Genoa if it was not for my college professor Dr. Smith, who studied there. She would rave about the glorious Genoese, even though the city does not make it into many tourist books. Genoa, or Genova as the Italians call it, is a port city that matched (Dr. Smith says surpassed) Venice at the peak of its power. Its trade routes extended to all corners of the Mediterranean, importing silk from Asia, spices from the Middle East and goods from Anglosaxons up north. In fact, a very famous explorer was Genoese; you may recognize him: Christopher Columbus. However, unlike Venice, its primary purpose is still to be a port city, not a tourist attraction.

Still, there were some sights to see. There is a beautiful Gothic church, an ancient lighthouse where they used to hang people, a modern waterfront with Europe’s largest aquarium (I did not go in) and Christopher Columbus’s house. By the way, it was surprisingly small: three stories, but extremely narrow. However, what attracted me to Venice that day was not any of these, but the hope of having wonderful green pesto from its birthplace. After a thorough searching through the historic center, I found a tavern that was serving two-course meals (very standard here) with a glass of wine for only 10 Euros. This was truly a deal. Most second plates in Rome cost that much alone. I was nervous about the quality, but sat down anyways. For my first plate I ordered some noodles “alla Genovese,” which basically means “with green pesto,” and I chose for my second course some meat at random. Both were some of the best food I have ever had. The pasta was magnificent and the meat was very tender. The wonderful green pesto reminded me Duzen cafeteria at Alma College and its stir-fry bar, where I first learned of the taste of green pesto. If only Rene, my favorite stir-fry chef, had Genovese green pesto, lunch would always be the highlight of my day.
I got lost on my way back to the train station, though, and I witnessed the horror of my train pulling away just as I ran up to the platform. For those of you who know how impatient I can be, imagine my fury in that moment. The next train was set to arrive in another hour, but the next train that I was allowed to ride came in another two. After an hour of groveling, I decided to risk it and board. Then halfway there, the train came to a stop, and it stayed that way for an hour. We found out from a frantic attendant that somewhere on the line an individual had been walking the tracks and was plowed over by a train. So since I missed my train an hour earlier, I was now two hours behind schedule. When we reached the Cinque Terre, finally, I had to wait another hour to get to my appropriate town. By the time, though, I started to play a comedian on my iPod, which improved me attitude considerably. Still, I had to cross my fingers, because now that I was three hours behind schedule (9:30pm instead of 6:30pm), I was unsure if the hostel was still open, and if it was, whether or not it was full. Thankfully, both uncertainties were revealed in my favor. Shortly after check-in I crawled into bed, reading a little Dante before drifting off to sleep.

For those of you who may not be familiar with the Cinque Terre (CHINK-weh TAY-reh, literally meaning “five lands”), now may be a good time to fill you in. Though they were recommended to me by Dr. Smith, my guidebook is also a fan of them too. They are five seaside villages that still retain a horde of community culture. Each town is proud of their own Italian dialect, the area is known for their own wine and seaside food dishes and every town has a fantastic view of Italy’s steep green hills crashing into the sea. If the area was connected by bus, and not train, and had Arabesque architecture, and not Romanesque, it would be nearly identical to the Amalfi Coast and little Altrani. Personally, I prefer the Arabesque architecture, but the Cinque Terre is also connected by just over five and a half miles of trails, which makes for an exceptionally beautiful hike.

I spent my entire day hiking it, spending at least an hour to enjoy each of the five towns. In between towns, the trail would change in elevation, taking you from the shoreline up into the village vineyards, though always guaranteeing a view of the royal-blue sea. I frequently stopped to observe the charging surf and listen to the clicking of the rocks that were pulled by the force of a receding wave. The weather could not have been better either, revealing the sun just enough to bring out the smell of the surrounding vineyards, but covering it enough to keep the diligent hiker cooled. The panorama also included picturesque views of the villages; some nestled around a harbor, one perched on top of a cliff. I felt a rich aura walking when I walked through these, and I enjoyed snacking on some local specialties, including green pesto pizza and a gelato made from local honey. That evening I stayed at the hostel and enjoyed an eggplant dish made by the hostel’s cook. While I ate, I made some new friends as we worked on a puzzle. The hostel was fantastic, definitely the best I have stayed in so far. It had modern facilities, including an elevator, and worked hard to stay clean. It also had no requirement for membership, so people of all ages were permitted to stay. My favorite feature was that it had large lockers that were inside of our dorm rooms, so that my backpack of stuff was padlocked nearby at all times. My only qualm was that it was at the very top of the town, which made for a difficult final stretch at the end of the day.

I woke up Monday morning thankful that American Veteran’s Day had allowed me this extra day of travel. I started by walking one town over to catch a desired train. The stretch I walked is known as the Via dell’Amore (meaning “the street of love”), the easiest and most popular hike in the Cinque Terre. It was an appropriate end to my visit, being that I had very much fallen in love with the place.

Thankfully, I made it to the station this time, and got on the train. I did not intend to head back to Rome, however, not yet. I decided to get off at the city of Pisa, check out the sights, and board the next train to Rome three hours later. From what I had heard, this is all the time one needs to see Pisa, because there is pretty much only one place to go: the Field of Miracles, where one can see the Pisan cathedral and its famous belfry, the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Oh, and lots and lots of tourists.

What amazed me most about Pisa was how they were able to attract so much attention to a failed piece of architecture. I mean, ultimately, that is what it is. And now people pay 15 Euros to go up its crooked flight of stairs. Well, I am cheap, so I did not, and frankly I was more interested in other sights that the lovely Field of Miracles (literally a huge lawn) had to offer. First there was the cathedral, which highlights a special Pisan Romanesque architecture. Essentially, that is architecture that blended styles from North Africa, the Middle East and from the Romans. It makes for a quirky and beautiful combination of colorful arches, Gothic spires, foreboding columns and elegant mosaics. Across from the cathedral is the largest baptistery in Italy, and its domed shape has earned it comparisons to the Pantheon. Though I have little interest in Catholic baptism, I was fascinated to learn that some think the building was also constructed to be a musical instrument. As the guards demonstrated, when you sing a pitch, it echoes for ten seconds, giving a vocalist enough time to construct an entire chord. I also visited a nearby museum, which shed some light on the long-time cosmopolitan port city of Pisa. Despite my malcontent toward the tower though, I did find some Americans to take my picture of me with it. However, unlike most pictures where someone pretends like they are holding it up, I used my photo as an opportunity to vent my frustration.
I left the Field of Miracles with enough time to walk back to Pisa’s train station. Along the way, I came to the piazza that hosted the University of Pisa, which earned much of its reputation when astronomer and professor Galileo challenged church doctrine from within its walls. I have respected Galileo ever since I wanted to be an astrophysicist in second grade and suddenly I was struck with a sense of awe. I was now walking through the piazza and down the streets where he once walked… before he was put under house arrest, that is. On the last leg of my journey, I tracked down a grocery store and bought my lunch off the shelves to save on money. I made to the train station with a few minutes to spare and rode back to Rome in the same car as two people I had met in Cinque Terre.

When I arrived back at my room in Rome, disheveled and tired, I was startled to find Jose and my landlord talking about the internet. Since I could not understand them, I just pretended they were not there and went into my room. Later I found out that we should be getting internet soon, which I am not going to get the internet. I have accepted this and am fine with that now; it was probably for the best. I had no time to talk about it then anyways, since my evening had another event planned for it: a Peace Corp reception at the Ambassador’s residence.

Though I was tired and hesitant to go, this was probably one of my favorite events at the Ambassador’s house, and I think it was one of his favorite too. As former director of the Peace Corp, he was thrilled to host the current director of the Peace Corp, who had come to Rome to sign an cooperative agreement with the Food and Agriculture Organization and the World Food Programme. The event was full with the Peace Corp delegation, USUN staff and Peace Corp volunteers who were living in Rome. The cooks served a delicious buffet of Mexican cuisine, which was a pleasant change of taste,

To my relief, there were also two university students there, who had been invited by the Ambassador. It was nice to have casual conversation with two people my age every once in a while. As we entered, they wondered whether they would have the privilege to talk to the current Peace Corp Director. “Don’t worry,” I said, “by the end of the night, I guarantee that he will find all of us and try to recruit us.” My time came about twenty minutes later, just after I ate a cabob of bananas that I had dipped in the chocolate fountain. I wiped my mouth quickly. “So young man, have you thought about joining the Peace Corp? You know, it is the best thing that you can do for your professional career.” To get him off my back, I told that I had been very interested, but was now leaning toward a program through the Congressional Hunger Center instead, since it focused more on what I am interested in. He detected my confidence, and so quickly eased the conversation into a more relaxing mode. The two students one the other hand must have been much vulnerable. At the end of the night, they were both convicted on joining the Peace Corp, and I was happy for them.

The work week since that incredible weekend has been a roller coaster ride of ups and downs. With this Conference so fast approaching, it is difficult to predict what needs to be done next and whether or not what you are doing is of value. For example, I found at Tuesday morning that someone from Washington has already made binders, which canceled out all my efforts, but then I found out today that the Deputy Chief of Mission (2nd to the Ambassador) likes mine better and wants me to make more. Meanwhile, I have continued to organize information and make documents “look pretty” for other people. It has been stressful, but I prefer to be overworked than underworked in any internship. Besides, when I put on my iPod, it all goes by so fast anyways.

I know these last two and a half weeks are going to zip by too, so forgive me if my posts are scarce. Thank you for your interest and attention. God Bless!