it looks like it’s … leaning.

so there may have been this one time that i believed that plymouth rock was in pennsylvania. because that’s where the pilgrims landed. on the pennsylvania coast.

and that one time may or may not have been when i offered that information to someone while i was in college. in massachusetts. of course this is ironic because i neglected to recognize two indisputable facts:

a. as i uttered this belief, i was standing about 45 minutes away from plymouth rock. (and i now believe that massachusetts makes its relationship to the mayflower quite clear.)

2. my *entire* seventh-grade social studies class revolved around coloring maps of the united states. every map involved labeling the states. many revolved around the 12 colonies and the path of the mayflower. i’ve never seen so many maps in my life. (our teacher was busy watching jeff gordon’s racing stats and hiding playboys in his desk drawer. i hope the jeff gordon thing worked out for him … the playboy thing didn’t.)

d. there is a new jersey-shaped dent in the side of pennsylvania, thus thwarting any chance the amish state had of having a coast.

i now acknowledge my geographical oversight and view it as both a humbling learning experience and a phenomenal opportunity for an ice-breaking comedic story. [note: story is only funny the first two to three times. then it loses some of its charm.]

anyways, i received both a laugh and a sense of redemption when i called amor on friday to say “hasta luego” and get some italy-traveling wisdom. as i ticked off the list of side trips we’d be making – lucca, pisa, assissi – she cut me off mid-sentence: “wait – i didn’t know you were going to france too!” … because that’s where she thought the leaning tower of pisa was.

now i don’t know if that tops the pennsylvania pilgrims, but it’s got to at least be in the running.

* * * *

so today was our first day really venturing into italy. due to the excitement of the day, i woke up after only three choruses of “dayman” blasted helpfully by my iphone alarm.

pisa (the italian one) was first up, and i swear i’ve never seen anything like the sight that met me when i looked through the main arch of the city wall. it was also the first time we heard helga, our adorable tour guide, call the vendors “wendors,” so it was truly a special moment.

finally, mr. nolde’s history slides came to life. and the reality was just so mcuh better than i’d imagined. it’s really incredible how electrifying the past can be. i really hope i’m not gushing like this the entire week (i loathe excessive gushing), but it will be impossible for this trip to fail to meet my expectations. because this trip, this need to stand on european soil, isn’t about finding perfection. it never was. and as i stood there looking at the world’s most famous failed architectural project, i knew it.

this trip is about perspective. the architect who declined to identify himself as the mastermind behind the sinking bell tower of the onetime maritime city (i suppose he never heard of swamp castle) certainly put everything i’m accustomed to seeing in perspective. i love the u.s., but i love that there’s so much more outside of it. today, christina, mom, kara and i ate pisa pizza outside with the leaning tower of pisa as our backdrop. unreal. some people live this history every day.

* * * *

lucca was fascinating – the tour guide we hastily thought might not be as engaging as ricardo of pisa turned out to be incredible. i’ve never heard a person with such a historical and artistic and spiritual insight ask if he was boring a group so many times. first we started with the city’s still-intact world war ii fortifications, which enclose the inner, completely walkable city and offer cars only three entrances. the one we saw was a sunken road that used to be surrounded by a moat – i hope it had a drawbridge! (i am such a nerd.)

lucca was such an inspired choice for a visit because, for all its history, it’s not a tourist trap. though i know my ever-clicking camera betrayed my outsider-ness, it was so illuminating to see a glimpse of typical italian life outside of the realm of tchotchkies and street wendors (intentional spelling). although, not gonna lie, i can’t wait to give amor her new leaning shotglass …

the streets have so much character – narrow, cobblestone, full of pedestrians and leisurly bikers (that must be how they keep the calories off …) and balconies with flowers and italian pride. i don’t think i’ve seen half as many american flags in the last month (election-night speeches excluded) as the number of italian flags i saw hanging off balconies and buildings today. i envy the italian’s sense of identity. they don’t forget to wear it on their sleeves.

best part of lucca: the cathedral. (one of *48* churches inside the city walls.) the exterior was romanesque, the inside was part gothic, part renaissance, part legend. i can’t believe i’m going to say that i was glad we weren’t allowed to take pictures, but i was. there was an aura in that space that was so palpable. the legend says its striking wooden cross was the very first one made – crafted by nicodemus, who, based on a premonition, sent it sailing away in an unmanned ship until it “chose” italy, where two un-driven oxen carried it to lucca, the cross’ choice for its new home. i kind of love the fact that the church won’t carbon date the cross to find out when it was made – it lets you make the choice to decide that even if the logic that dispels the legend is true, it doesn’t matter. there’s still a draw, still the sense that a higher power is present in that cathedral.

side note: the cathedral has *two* organs and *two* choirs! catholic surround sound!

accomplishment: two store owners thought i was italian today. i think they must have thought i was the strong, silent type, because the only words i could say were “quant’e?” “grazie” and “arrivaderci!”
but i was still proud.

fun/kinda gross pisa fact: the reason the baptistery has a weird dome top is because there used to be a huge hole in the dome to catch rain in the center to use for full-immersion baptisms (cue “my big fat greek wedding” kiddie-pool imagery). i guess they figured out it was unsanitary. it must have smelled lovely …

disappointment: how can a country of such beauty and culture not have a single can of dr pepper in it?!

gelato quota: met. mento gelato di lucca. delicioso.

i still want a hula-hoop…

today the mccabe clan learned the answer to an age-old question: what does santa do with his 364 vacation days? apparently he spends them in disney world, and today he decided to see if epcot’s soarin’ was worth all the hype…

when my cousins and i walked off the ride, we saw santa (it could have been his stunt double, but we’re pretty sure it was him…) eating a quick morning snack in the land building (it looked to be a salad…). we almost felt bad about our blatant staring and then my attempt to stealthily capture his picture (see exhibit a), but then we decided that the guy had to know what he was doing. i mean, it would be a terrible thing to point at someone who happens to be pleasantly plump with white hair, but if that person chooses to grow that white hair longer, add a ginormous, perfectly santa-shaped curly white beard, and then walk around disney world wearing a red shirt and white suspenders…well then he’s embracing his role and it would be a shame not to acknowledge it.

exhibit a:

later, we found him sitting on a bench outside of figment’s world of imagination, just taking in the sights (see exhibit b). we observed him (and we watched the way that every kid walking by him stared at him), and our consciences were further cleared when a woman walked up to him and said something that prompted him to pull out a business card, write something on it, and give it to her. ah-ha! so it would seem that our dear santa may be hitting up the disney theme parks to try to make a few bucks during the off-season…very clever, santa.

exhibit b:

after that, my mission was clear – i needed a picture with him. a stealth picture. i enlisted my cousin’s help, and i’d say our mission was successful.

exhibit c:

mischief managed.

god laughs

i had thought the only uncomfortable part of church this weekend was going to be realizing that the beautiful music of schola masses at st. joe’s are a thing of the past, but nothing could have braced me for the supreme mortification i was forced to suffer during the sign of peace.

my mom and i arrived fashionably late, so we quickly scanned the crowd for my sister and brother and slipped into our seats without taking notice of any of the people we were passing on the way, so i sat through most of the mass completely unaware of the people sitting in the pew right behind us.

so during the sign of peace, i hugged my fam, shook hands with the people in front of me and then, completely emotionally unprepared, i turned around and came face-to-face with the grinning face of mr. green ford explorer (name changed to protect me from further ridicule), the owner of the car i once mistook for my father’s and jumped right into while it was stopped at a downtown stoplight. god must have wanted to get back at me for something, so he placed the three people who can laugh at me most right behind me and then enjoyed my deer-in-headlights shocked face when i turned around to see them staring at me – it was the car driver, his son (who rode shotgun) and his daughter (who sat in the back left seat)…the only passenger missing was the laundry bag that sat in the middle back seat separating me and the girl (incidentally, both his family and mine use the same cleaners…i should probably be on my guard there too…).

anyways, i was most certainly not on my guard at church this week, so instead of conspicuously making myself busy trying to stretch over and shake the hands of the people two rows in front of me, i had to make eye contact with the three of them and let them each take a turn shaking my hand and giving me that you-jumped-into-my-car-one-time-when-it-wasn’t-even-parked look.

i hate that look. the next time i accidentally jump into someone’s car i’m going to make sure it has out-of-state plates, lest i inadvertently find myself sitting in the backseat of another parishioner’s vehicle.