general observations
The longer that I am here, the more I get mistaken to be an Italian. I’ve had the local Italians, tourists, and even Americans think that I am Italian. Growing up the family has always said, “Oh, Brittany’s so exotic looking,” but I don’t know, I’ve never really bought it. I think now I believe that I look of an ambiguous nationality, if there is such a thing. Now that I know my way around town, and can walk with some authority, have slightly adapted my style, and have dark features, everyone is thinking that I’m Italian. For a while I was counting how many times people approached me and asked me questions in Italian, but honestly, I’ve lost count. Isn’t that sort of cool? When I was in Israel, I also felt like I could assimilate into that culture as well. I think in my theatrical career, being of a generic European face is going to help me a lot.
I realized that I’ve neglected to talk about what life is like at the hostel. Since not much has happened this week, let me delve into it – Its basically like a big two story dorm with several lounges/rooms. The furniture is a bit tacky, every room has a sort of yard sale feel. My hallway is filled with kids who are all in the program, mostly vocalists with a few instrumentalists thrown in there. My room is the largest one, intended for 8 but only filled with 5. I’m lucky enough to have a full bunk to myself. Since we are on the second floor, it can get very warm up there. We have our own bathroom as well, which is nice. The hostel has kind of a stale smell that I’ll be very happy to leave, although I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget, if you know what I mean. Every morning I go downstairs for breakfast and theres some plain cereal, some breakfast pastries, coffee, etc. The hostel is a nondescript place, but really not bad for what you pay for it.
The funny thing about the hostel is that the front doors close at 1 am. You can get back into after then, but you have to ring the door bell and wait for whoever is working the night sift to wake up and let you in. We’ve coined this person “Pissy Pattie” (regardless of who it is) because once some girls came back at 4:30am and had some water dumped on them from a top story window. When PP comes to answer the door, needles to say, he is NOT happy.
I've also found my favorite gelato place in town. Although the gelato may be better at other places, I just love this little store, and the lady there is so nice. I'm starting to really grow attached to this little town of Lucca, the way of life here, the people. Honestly, I'm a little done with "classical singing" and the super uptight mentality that is associated with it here, but I'm just not done with Lucca yet. This country has so much charm, I'm going to be so sorry to leave here.
I realized that I’ve neglected to talk about what life is like at the hostel. Since not much has happened this week, let me delve into it – Its basically like a big two story dorm with several lounges/rooms. The furniture is a bit tacky, every room has a sort of yard sale feel. My hallway is filled with kids who are all in the program, mostly vocalists with a few instrumentalists thrown in there. My room is the largest one, intended for 8 but only filled with 5. I’m lucky enough to have a full bunk to myself. Since we are on the second floor, it can get very warm up there. We have our own bathroom as well, which is nice. The hostel has kind of a stale smell that I’ll be very happy to leave, although I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget, if you know what I mean. Every morning I go downstairs for breakfast and theres some plain cereal, some breakfast pastries, coffee, etc. The hostel is a nondescript place, but really not bad for what you pay for it.
The funny thing about the hostel is that the front doors close at 1 am. You can get back into after then, but you have to ring the door bell and wait for whoever is working the night sift to wake up and let you in. We’ve coined this person “Pissy Pattie” (regardless of who it is) because once some girls came back at 4:30am and had some water dumped on them from a top story window. When PP comes to answer the door, needles to say, he is NOT happy.
I've also found my favorite gelato place in town. Although the gelato may be better at other places, I just love this little store, and the lady there is so nice. I'm starting to really grow attached to this little town of Lucca, the way of life here, the people. Honestly, I'm a little done with "classical singing" and the super uptight mentality that is associated with it here, but I'm just not done with Lucca yet. This country has so much charm, I'm going to be so sorry to leave here.
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