Dancing like a Peanuts character

Friday I was absolutely determined to try and relive everything I had done in Bologna in the last two weeks during the space of a few hours. I woke up early and went into town before school, taking pictures of everything that I had walked by in the last two weeks. I walked down the via Zamboni and found a really awesome-looking bakery. When I went in the baker and the clerk started joking with me, and we all started laughing, even though neither party knew what the other was saying. It all lead to another "no para italiano," questions about Americans big appetites, and a more joking and laughing. He let me try any type of bread that I wanted, and even after I had settled on the one I wanted and paid, he proceeded to fill up another bag of coffee biscuits and cookies. I wandered around snapping pictures of Piazza Maggiore and the due Torri, finally not caring whether people saw me as a tourist or not. I retraced my steps along the via S. Stefano, and finally went into the church on the piazza. It was so small and so dark, and even though I had ten minutes to get to Santa Cristina, this was one of those churches where you have to stop and pray. Five minutes later, I am back out on the streets, getting lost trying to get back to Santa Cristina.
At school the groups had to present their final project for the week, and so after missing the vegetarian restaurant and vino the night before, our group celebrated the end of the summer school at the vegetarian restaurant with good vino. Thank God three people in our group spoke Italian! It felt amazing to just relax with the group over salads and talk about things other than feminist theory! Inside my heart was breaking because this was the end of the summer school and probably the last time we would be around the same table, but I realized that I had so many awesome memories of the last two weeks that there was no way that I could get all sappy and mushy.
After we got of school, I headed back into town. I was going through the clothes that I brought and realized that I didn't have anything really nice to wear to the NOISE party that evening. So there was only one thing to do--go shopping! I went back and got a great pink dangly necklace at a little boutique that I had found on Wednesday. I was trying it on, and I was so proud of myself when I understood the owner telling me in Italian that I couldn't try the necklaces on!
I found the same street on which I had my first pasta meal in Italy, but I was sidetracked by a church that I had passed by more than once. Even though it looks unpretentious from the street, Santa Maria della Vita was the most awe-inspiring church I have ever been to! It is one of those places of worship where you must stop to worship and reflect. The sculptures and paintings are set against white walls, which draw your eyes up to the dome. That church is one of those many things in life that prove that true beauty is within.
Then I thought I still needed clothes for the party, so I utilized the first word I learned in coming to Bologna, saldi (sale), and hit up every store on the via Independenzia that had a saldi sign in the window. Now I am a very picky shopper, and while I saw a lot of clothes that I liked, nothing seemed to be working for the party. In one store I made the mistake of asking a clerk for help when she asked me what I needed. Bad, bad idea. After establishing that I did not speak Italian, that my Spanish was worse than my Italian, she didn't speak German, and that English wouldn't work either, I nearly ran out of the store, resolving to wear dress up some jeans with a black shirt and a pink necklace.
The party was fantastic! While I will spare sharing everything on the blog, the party was the perfect way to cap off NOISE. Around eleven they started the dancing, which was what I had been waiting for all night! I had so much fun dancing to the so-bad-that-it's-good dance music! At one point I tried to dance like Astrid, but obviously that didn't work because no one dances like Astrid! As I danced, I realized that I am not homesick. Homesick for me implies that I have a connection primarily to a place and everything that goes with it. But I don't necessarily have that. For me it is the relationships that I have with my friends and family and the people that I meet that mean the most, regardless of wherever they may be. So I guess what I am trying to say is that I am not homesick, I am people-sick. Sorry family, I love being in Europe and don't want to come back to Indiana. Instead I find myself wishing that I could share certain experiences with my family and friends. Like going into every pasta shop I see with my mom, and coming out with a bag full of all different kinds that we can play with. I want to walk across the via Stalingrado bridge that goes over the railroad tracks with my train-obsessed little brother. And even though I was having the time of my life dancing with the amazing NOISE people, I found myself longing for my awesome SMC friends who would be going as crazy as I was. When I needed some fresh air I would check the clock on the Piazza Maggiore and subtract six hours, timing what my friends would be doing on their Friday night. I wanted them with me so we could dance like maniacs, and they could tell me if I was dancing too much like a Peanuts character, because that is what friends are for, to tell you that you're dancing like Charlie or Lucy or Linus. And even though the party was where we had to say a lot of goodbyes and give a lot of hugs, I can't imagine doing it in a better place and saying goodbye (or see you in Utrecht!) to more amazing people!