Screw Atkins and South Beach...Go on the Italian Diet!

Ok, so it's pretty interesting being a Filipino in the country of Italia. One of my favorite things about that fusion is the change in my diet. I've totally exchanged rice for pasta and soy sauce for olive oil. I've always loved to cook, but I feel like I've taken it to a whole 'nother level here in Rome. It's a lot less convenient for me to go out to eat so I find myself trying to cook something. It seems like every guy here knows at least a little about cooking so I have a lot of teachers. I'll talk a little about my 3 favorite foods: spaghetti carbonara (shown to the left), suppli, and pizza. Carbonara is like my go to meal, meaning if I have nothing else to make, carbonara is the way to go. It's a really simple sauce that combines pancetta (good bacon), onions, parmesan or romano cheese, olive oil, lots of black pepper, and the key ingredient...a beaten egg. The egg is never really cooked but it cooked by the heat of the spaghetti and other ingredients.

Now on to Suppli. If I were to use a piece of food that represented me it would be this. Suppli is a fried rice ball that has tomatoes and mozzarella cheese in it. Something fried and something that has rice (dude I'm asian) has all the elements of MMmmm written all over it.

Pizza is not so much a surprise choice, but not any pizza my friend. Pizza in Rome is nice and thin and is crispy almost like a cracker. My favorite pizza type is capriciossa which has sausage, mushrooms, artichokes, and an egg sunny side up in the middle.

Ok, so I've realize I've eaten a ton of food while here in Rome. I eat so much more than I do while in the States, to the point where all my Italian friends are madly impressed. I take after my best friend Hall. But here's the kicker. Since being in Italy (with the only exercise I really get is walking...no soccer yet, no surfing, no running *sad face*) I've lost 5 lbs. Take that!

You can do Venice in 4 hours, but we did it 20.

This past weekend, I went to Florence as my previous post conveyed. I went out with some of my friends who are studying in Florence and then woke up early the next morning to leave for Venice. I went with the brave souls in the picture below (shout out to Alex, Chris, Nick, Andrew, Angela, Ayla, and Lindsey). I call them brave because when we left we had no idea what kind of adventure we were embarking on. We went because Venice is the home of Carnivale, like the best 2.5 week festival pre-Lent. The event was full of people dressed in costumes and traditional masks as shown on the picture to the left. San Marco Square also had a big stage which was the center of all the events. On the day we went, there was a costume party for the kids and then a bunch of different bands.

It ended up being an adventure because we had assumed that the Carnivale would be something on the scale of Mardi Gras in New Orleans and that it would be this all out party that lasted way into the night. So we thought we would hang out until like 10 pm and leave on the 10 pm train. Our other option was to stay longer and leave at 3 am. Well the Carnivale ended roughly around 10 pm and there was no train at 10 and the train at 3 was sold out. The next train was not leaving for Florence until 6:30 in the morning. So we had to consume ourselves with doing something for roughly another 8 hours. A lot of the time was spent trying to sleep in random stairs and in the train station. All of us were exhausted by the end of the "short day trip".

Sono Americano yo!

So I just arrived in Florence to visit my friends Nick&Danny and I got a little bit of a nice welcome from the police. Two cops decide to stop me right after I step out of the train station. In Italian, they just started pelting me with all these questions like, what's in your bag? open it up? what do you do? where are you from? let me see your passport? Ok so I'm doing really well in Italian, but when two dudes with guns and handcuffs are suspisious of something and insist on speaking in Italian to you, your Italian kinda goes blank. Luckily my Italian was on even though I probably could have crapped in my pants.

Ok so the irony of this story was that right before I left, I was about to pack my passport but I asked my buddy Briggs if he thought I needed it. Briggs spent a year doing the same program in Rome as I'm in now. He's staying with me in Rome while he visits a bunch of his friends for his post Ph.D graduation vacation. He was like...in the whole year I was here I was never asked for my passport. So I was like...I'll leave it. So when they asked for it I showed them the copies of my visa and passport and my original (thank god) permesso (permit of stay). I think the fact that I was conversing with them in Italian helped cause after I found out I was a student in Rome they started to ask what I studied etc., but while they were still searching my bag mind you. Evevything ended up ok and they eventually left me alone and with a smile said "Buenasera". I was like....right...same to you.

One more piece of irony. While Briggs and I had dinner at the train station right before I left, the cashier spoke to me in english and in Italian to Briggs. I told Briggs it was like a kick in the balls to be automatically assumed as not part of Italy. If the Fiorentine police had just thought I was American initially, this wouldn't have happened. Oh wellz, off to Carnivale in Venice bright and early tomorrow.

That's not how it works in Rome buddy!

Ok...I'll get to the title of the post, but for now this post is about watching the Super Bowl in Rome. I watched the game at THE place to watch American sports in Rome, an Irish Pub called Abbey Theater. I went there for a couple of the Gator games last Fall and just other random games. So it's kind of sad when you start to become a regular and recognize a lot of other "regulars" and start to be chummy with the bartenders. Anyhow, I got to the pub at about 8:30 to ensure I got a good spot for the 12:30 am start. Ok, I don't understand some girls, but sometimes some (not all mind you) can be reaaaaally annoying. I had been sitting in a nice spot and these girls came and sat next to me. I literally, kid you not, think these girls sounded exactly like the "Valley Girls" from Saved by The Bell. So I already couldn't stand sitting next to them, but these girls actually had the audacity to ask me to move. "So like I don't mean to be rude, but can you move so that we can eat?" Anyhow, two familiar girls and pub regulars noticed that and made room for me to sit at the bar. That did me a great favor, I no longer had to hear "Like...I got soooo drunk last night and it was soooo fetch...for sure. And there were these boys...hee hee hee hee" Ok the fetch part wasn't true (just a little movie reference for you movie buffs).

Anyways, the fun part of being at the bar is getting to chat with our favorite bartenders and I'm sure they appreciate having familiar faces in between them and the often impatient drink getters. We had the privilege of communicating orders to the bartenders which reaped a lot of benefits. Some people, in appreciation for our troubles would buy us an extra shot if they were buying shots. My Serbian friend from school, Milan came along and just laughed that people were getting wasted before the game got started. I enjoyed the game a lot and there were a ton of people there. My favorite part was when Hester from the Bears ran back the opening kickoff for a TD. Although, I was going for the bears I had three words for all the Bears fans that got way too excited..."Ten Ginn, Jr."

Ok so here's where the title of the post comes from. I eventually left when I knew the Bears wouldn't pull it off cause I was getting really tired. On my way out to the taxi station I noticed these Americans trying to call down a cab. So I was like...there's a taxi station a block over. So they followed me. They then tried to get in cabs ahead of people already waiting. When it came time for a cab for me, they tried to get in ahead of me. I thought to myself "you wouldn't even have known about this spot if it wasn't for me. Wait your turn." As I got into the cab, the guy tried to persuade the cab driver by saying in English "We have 4 people." I used my best weapon...Italian. I greeted the driver a good evening and told him where I was going. The driver didn't even look back and we left those dudes in the dust.

Rugby in Italy...you read that right.

As part of Super Bowl Sunday I went to a Rugby match in Italy. One of my friends at work is a French girl named Laure (below with me). She actually works on sensors like me and is almost done with her Playa Hata Degree. She's essentially Italian (don't tell her that though) because she's lived in Italy for a few years now and is married to an Italian guy. Although I always like to remind her of the World Cup outcome and sometimes jokingly tell her she better not head butt me in the chest.

Well Laure told me during the week that there was an Italy/France rugby match. I thought to myself, "wow that could be fun." Another friend of ours from school, Zach, came along too. I thought it would be just some low key exhibition match. But actually it ended up being this thing called the Six Nations Cup which is a tournament between Italy, France, Wales, Scotland, England, and Ireland. I guess a pretty big deal in European Rugby. Laure was hardcore about it and she told me that Rugby was just as popular as football (soccer) in France. Now in Italy, football is THE sport. It showed. Italy got worked and lost 39-3. Even though I have never ever watched a rugby game, I think I got the main gist of the sport and had a good time, especially since I sat amongst French people in my Italy Cannavaro jersey. Man, who else would a French guy love more than an American wearing an Italian soccer jersey. All the French were really nice though!