What is a man?

When did he go from Joseph to just Joe?

        It is an odd thing in our western societies to consider what it means to be a man.  Unlike more tribal or localized societies that have rights of passage (for both men and women), our first world societies have seemed to abandon, or blurred, the right of passage to nothing.  For instance, in certain African tribes it is the right of passage to kill a lion to be considered a man (at around the age of 14), though due to recent shortages of the animal the boys hunt in packs now, the tradition remains.  Here in America we try to consider that by the time you reach 21 or 18 you are an adult, though it is a blurry definition at best.  How many of you readers honestly felt a major difference from the time you were 15 to the time you were 20? I know the only difference that came to me was moving out on my own, but maturity wise I felt there was little difference.  I didn't honestly consider myself a "man" until roughly 24 years of age.
        Modern neuro-science has shown that both men and women's brains don't finish developing until their mid to late 20's.  I think in western society this is a key to when people actually begin to feel like adults.  No passage or trick to it, just a simple day when you wake up and realize some day you will die, and that there is more to life than there was yesterday.  But still, how is it in less developed societies they can make the jump a full decade earlier?  Is there something to killing a lion, going on a spiritual journey, or consuming the fumes of enlightenment?
        Before going into our western society and what I think creates a person's adult image, I will discuss why I think the rights of passage in less developed societies does make a difference.  First, think about the life expectancy in our first world.  My generation in America, particularly in the Northwestern region, has an average life expectancy of around 80 years.  Compare this to a country, such as the Republic of Congo, which is estimated at 50 years of age for those in the more developed areas- meaning those who still live within tribal establishments are not in consideration of these ideas.  That is nearly twice the life expectancy in the America.  It would make sense then, that a society would push their youth into adulthood prematurely, as we would conceive of it, because they don't have as much time to grow up and start a family.  Even look at America's history, in the 1800's our life expectancy was roughly the same.  And what was the average age of marriage? If you were a girl, your mid teens, and a man, your early 20s.  So by comparison, it can make sense that starting your family early would be of better benefit for society and yourself, because you could just as easily die within the week of a work related accident or hunting accident.
       Now here in America we think it's rather disturbing for people above the age of 18 to be attracted to people under the age of 18.  Biologically this is perfectly normal- after all women are most fertile in their teens, and men their most virile in the 20's, but as a society we have recognized our longevity in life and therefore have placed protection on the youth from older predators.  Why? Because younger women are often attracted to older men, and men know this, and many of them are willing to prey on the young and ignorant for their own ends.  It may be presumptuous to make this claim, but go to any bar in virtually any town, and you will see those grey haired horn dogs hitting on those cute 21 year old blondes- and to greater or lesser degrees succeeding.  So as we are able to grow older and wiser, we place more sanctity on our youth.  This is the beginning of why we lose our rights of passage- we hold onto our youth like there was no tomorrow.
       Next up look at how our capitalist society has flourished and removed ourselves as consumers from the products we consume.  Tribal societies usually only own what they themselves can make or gather.  We have factories where our products come from- from our computers to our goddamn meat and veggies.  Hunting is a sport in our society- it has no reason of existing aside from recreation.  So toss out that "kill your first buffalo" idea on becoming a man- there's meat a  plenty at the Soopermart.  So in the idea of abundance, we no longer are driven out of necessity to push our youth into adulthood to keep our society alive.

This guy is more man then you.

       So what about things like vision quests or pain endurance excersizes?  Well, because our society places so much importance on living to ripe old ages, we have tried to remove harmful chemicals from daily recreation.  From drugs that allowed you to hallucinate, to simple relaxation drugs, American (and most western societies) have removed these from legal use or vogue.  So things like marijuana and nicotine, while may be legal, are not considered to be good or deemed "proper" by society at large because of the long term affects these drugs cause.  The same principle applies to fasting and insominia- we want people to be healthy and old.
       Then what could be considered rights of passage on people in western society?  Since we are a capitalist society, we want to think that when you have your first job or large purchase it transcends you to adulthood.  Think about what your first few jobs were- probably nothing more glamorous than fastfood or cashier work.  I'm a college graduate in his mid 20's that still works these sort of bottom-of-the-barrel jobs because, well, that's what society thinks I am able to handle (which I disagree with, but c'est la vie).  When you encounter these youths at these jobs, you probably don't think, "There's a fine man/woman serving me." You probably have something closer to,  "Another pock marked kid slopping my burgers together, please don't add too much mayo." Then when they do add too much mayo, you ask for their manager and a person in their 30's or 40's comes walking out asking how they can make things right- and bam, there's that adult you were hoping would slop your burgers together from the start.  So we can strike "your first job" off the list of what transcends you into adulthood.

Notice: not an adult

       How about that first car you buy?  There is no denying that serious purchases help you become responsible, but responsibility is not the same and adulthood.  And on top of that, how many people had their first vehicle, but had help paying for their insurance or gas?  Other large purchases can be roped into this same category, but still, how many times have you cussed out a stupid teenage driver? So let us go ahead and strike "major purchases" off of the coming of age act list.
       Then we come to spreading your wings- that time when most people move out of their parents place after highschool.  For many of us this means going to vocational school or college, some of us just choose to move out and work.  To me this is as close to a real coming of age gesture as our society permits.  There is of course still a resentful tone from society in regarding people of this age.  We see the college student working day shifts at a library or bank, and we give them slack because, while they are entering the professional or responsible phase of life, they still are young to us.  But at some point within these years, that personally and by society, we are recognized as an adult.
       I honestly believe that the main contribution to this phenomena is that our brains and bodies develop to a point where you no longer get mistaken for that teen at Burger Joint you supervise.  Though, as a man, I must admit that there are several things I believe our society demands we have experienced before our personalities are confident enough to be called Man.

All man.

I've asked my friends about these experiences and have compiled what I believe to be the common points that push us along:

-Major Purchase (car, house, ...): Any man must understand how to work around large amounts of money to secure property as well as responsibility to provide for himself and others.

-Moving Out of their Parents' place and staying out: I'm not saying it's bad if your family has to help you out from time to time, but if you keep going back to your parent's house to live for years on end, that doesn't really show much growth or maturity.  Let's face it, nobody wants to be the guy living in his parents basement, especially after

-Losing your virginity: I whole heartedly believe you should only have sex once you are ready, which as men, usually comes at around 14.  There is a lot to be said about sex, about how you handle it, and knowing yourself in regards to this.  You can almost tell overnight if a guy  lost his v-card.  They have a tendency to loosen up and no longer place sex on a pedestal.  And once you've had it, you want it more, but you don't work as hard to get it anymore- you have more confidence in yourself, which I believe is key to being a man.

-A few relationships:  I don't care if they are long term or short, but learning how to deal with heartache and the bursting of emotions that lead up to it steel a man's resolve for a long time.  Done properly, you learn how to deal with complex emotions and grow from them; or more commonly how to bottle it up (which I do not advise under any circumstances).

-A fight or two:  I don't advise physical (or mental) abuse of any sort- but fights happen.  If you don't know how to take a hit, or what that pain is like, you are missing out on a fundamental human experience- physical pain.   Knowing what pain is helps you overcome the fear of such a thing.

- Live alone:  You must know who you are, and it's hard to do that until you spend most of your time by yourself for extended periods of time (meaning a year or two).  This isn't to say become a social outcast, but know what kind of person you are inside your domain.  This also gives you the opportunities to find out what you like to do in your free time and what kind of person you really are.

-Doing lots of stupid shit with your friends:  You need stupid stories, they make you more interesting and appealing to everyone.  Yes, when you're older you say, "I can't believe I did that and didn't get killed." That is exactly why you need to do stupid things every now and again, to remember you are mortal, and if you have kids, to make sure they can survive such stupidity.

There are also things in society I believe every man should know.  It seems silly because to define what a man is is a long endeavor, but these are things that kind of go without saying.

Example 1: NOT DIFFICULT TO DO

• Know how to throw a punch.  Someday you WILL have to defend someone or something you care a lot about.  Literally, knowing how to throw a punch can save your life some day, whether or not you succeed in winning the fight- it shows you have balls.
• Know how to drink.  Yes, I mean liquor and beer, and wine for that cultured benefit.  I'm not advertising that you should drink if you don't want to, but you should know how.  Much of the world still clings to drinking contests in lieue of fist fights.  Just engaging and not completely embarassing yourself shows you have brass.
• Know how to smoke-cigarettes, cigars, and pipes.  I don't advise smoking, but know how to do it.  For the same reason as the last two points.
• Know the basics of a car.  I'm not saying know everything about the guts of your motorized vehicle, but be able to point to a part in a car's hood and give its generic name if nothing else.  Sexist? A little, but get over it.
• Know how to spit.  Not kidding.  A guy who can't spit right is probably that same guy that doesn't know
• Pee standing up.  Squatters, while generally cleaner in concerns to toilets, get the shit beat out of them at any age.
• Know how to take a joke/insult and know how to dish them out.  Swapping jokes and insults is a common way men create heirachy- the better you are at it, the higher you will climb.
• Understand the basics of computers.  This follows the same logic as cars.  I'm not saying women don't/shouldn't know these things, but our society places a higher need for men to know this for some reason. Sexist again? Yes, deal with it.
• Understand the basics of common sports.  I'm not a huge sportsfan, but I can still follow  baseball, basketball, football, tennis, fencing, soccer, rugby, and bar sports.  So should you.
• Know a few knots.  Yes, we're in the 21st century and knots as a technology peaked in the 1800s, but it is still pivotal to know how to do at least 1 hitch knot, 1 slip knot, and at least a square knot.  Not to mention 
• Know how to tie a tie.  Yes, you should know to do this by the time you're interested in women.  No excuses.  Know at least how to do- Square know, Half-windsor, and full-windsor.  They're not hard, and women will be impressed (even though they expect it).
• Know how to dress appropriately.  You don't need to know the difference between an Italian stuffed three layer suit and a simple factory American style suite, but you should damn well know when you should be wearing a tuxedo (and whether it's a white or black tie affair), versus a less formal suite, or street clothes.  This leans into more than just social affairs, it also is important for job interviews and dates.
• Know the brown vs. black rule in dress clothes.  You can mix brown and black, but you have to know how.  Think of main color vs. trim.  If your shoes are black, so should all accessories- such as belts, bracelets/watches...  You can have a black vest if your suit jacket is brown, that's ok.  But if you aren't sure, just stick to simplicity.
• Own a pair of work boots.  You'll thank me.
• Know how to drive a manual transmission.  It's not hard, and as mentioned earlier, we still live in a biased society.
• Know how to shave. You're a guy, this should be practiced since you first entered high school- regardless of facial hair status.  I've known some guys who had their girlfriends shave them.  That is weak and pathetic, don't be that guy.
• Know how to do laundry/clean your house. 
• Know how to shake hands properly.  It isn't rocket science, but to say what's probably been beaten into you since you were five- "it should be firm, but not crushing, or limp."
• Know the basics of hunting.  Though I doubt you will ever be in a situation for long without a Piggly Wiggly around, if you do find yourself stranded, you have to eat.  Traps, firearms, knives, and the ability to actually kill an animal for sustaining yourself/others is something men should familiarize themselves with.

This guy exhibits everything I've said.

This is a longer post, but I actually combined two posts into one because I realized they fit together.  I'm not professing I am an expert on everything man.  Hell, I have a couple ex's who would probably laugh you out of the room if you called me a man.  But this is what I've observed as being the commonality of men in the western hemisphere.

5/30/12 Journey's End

       Even hangovers don't make a worse morning than this one was.  Up by 5, on the bus by 7.  We had a long drive over to the airport in Munich, and the whole way, I could only contemplate how odd that in approximately a day's time, I would be over 6000 miles away, in a place that felt more alien to me than the brief places I had visited over these two weeks.  The scenery changes pretty drastically going from the Alps over to the woods of Germany, and then the clearing of those woods to show the wide metropolitan spread that is the city of Munich.  It becomes believable how stories, like the ones the Brothers Grimm, came from the area, shaded, darkened, and easy to get lost in.
        We get tot he airport and be damned if it wasn't a horrible experience.  We have to say  farewell to our guide, and he was just as sad to see us go as we were him.  But true to himself, he didn't make the goodbyes long, he said to the group on a whole, and headed to his plane to the next tour group-the life of a guide, always on the go.
        The Munich airport is divided into three security areas- the area outside ALL security is basically a mall.  Now, with higher security, came higher prices of things, so the bottom floors were already expensive by most people's standards (let alone a college student's).  The mall outside being the area that housed McDonalds and other like places, so we found out.  The second level had Polo shops, Rolex, and Swarovsky shops, just to give and idea of the price tag on the floor (super attractive baristas though, no complaints there).  The third level was even more expensive, with companies I've never heard of showcasing cars that only real buffs would have ever heard of, all with pricetags that would be more than I'll probably make in my life.  But the lady at the third gate liked me because I wasn't afraid to just go to the front of the line and get through the gate, and she was pretty cute too, so a plus to Munich's staffing.
        The flight wasn't long, though it was 9 hours.  Unfortunately, we landed at O'hare airport in Chicago early.  We originally had planned only a 5 hour layover there.  To begin, the airport is a maze, requiring shuttles to get around from area to area.  Then the lines were long, and the prices for what meager American food they offered were expensive.  The one element I loved was that everything was Jazz themed.  Then came the waiting for our flight.  That day two planes collided in the takeoff lanes, clipping one plane's wings, creating a nasty bit of delays, and required us to move to a different dock.  There, our plane came 2 hours late, and we were all jetlagged to death, tired, and waiting for our ride home.  We finally left at 10pm, got back to Utah at midnight, and just as I was the first one to show up to the airport, so was I the last one to leave.
        This trip was an unbelievable experience to grow, learn, and love as a person, musician, traveler, scholar, just all around really.  It tied up my tenure as a Bengal beautifully, gave me a send off that was unbeatable, and has given me inspiration and motivation for my next adventure.  So hopefully in the Summer of '13, I'll be heading to Paris and London!  Stay tuned folks.

5/29/12 What It's All About

        The last full day for our tour and group as a whole.  The day started normal enough- begin with breakfast, rehearse in a large group, and then head out for lunch on the town.  We met up with our good friend el Bruce (brew-chay) and Austin and headed for a lunch in the old city.  We sit down outside at a lower key looking restaurant and try one last Austrian meal.  I ordered what I had been wanting for the entire time I was visiting the country- sausage.  Really, when you think of German/Austrian cooking, the first two things that come to mind are usually sausage or weinerschnizzle.  With the order of sausage came fries, and I ordered a small beer to go with the meal.

A silly lunch.

        What came next was perhaps the silliest part of the entire tour, a plate with what just basically appeared to be cut hotdogs and french fries and a beer light enough to be apple juice.  My friends and I had a great laugh at this, but the best part about the whole meal, was that it was fantastic!  The sausage had a great spice to it and was far from being your run-of-the-mill ballpark frank.  The fries were the best fries I've ever had in my life, which since I'm from Idaho and staying in Austria, was a riot to me.  The beer was light, but full and bready, refreshing enough to help beat the midday heat and not get me drunk before the next rehearsal.

        After lunch we had a trip to the Swarovsky crystal factory/museum.  I will say this upfront- the Austrians are nothing, if not creative, and innovative, on how to entertain guests.  Our guides had been very tight-lipped about what the hell this Swarovsky thing was, aside from a crystal museum.  What we were in store for I believe took all of us by surprise- a modern art museum made for/by/with Swarovsky crystals.  

And THIS is what greeted us.

        It was trippy, and a festival for every sense.  I can say I've never been to a real modern art museum, but if that is what they are all like, I'm a fan.  It was different, unexpected, a bit gaudy at time (but with crystals everywhere, what the hell can you expect?), but I loved it.  And since it was also the factory, the museum did its job well. There was a store at the end where you could buy crystal products, and of course I really wanted something from there.  I had a hard time choosing between the cufflinks or a ring, and I went with the ring, and think it's the best purchase I've made in a long time, because every time I look at it, I remember this awesome trip, and it makes me that much better looking.  After the store is a cafe, where they have a real gallery of paintings from modern artists hanging on the wall.  They had an authentic Degas, and that made me happier.  The whole of it is beyond describing with just words alone, but I think the best way to describe it is "acid trip."

        As we headed back to Innsbruck proper, we also headed to our last rehearsal.  In the case of over half of our choir, would be the last rehearsal any of us would have with that university, and the performance that night our finale.  Our rehearsal passed, we readied for the concert, and then we were off to it.

        An omen of how the performance was to be, our director, Dr. A, gave us a prep talk before heading into our final performance.  It was emotional, and it was powerful, and validated much of myself as a musician.  The house was not packed, but it was still a powerful performance because of what it was about, and because of the work we did to get there.  Needless to say, a few select songs made me tear up, and after the performance as well.

        Our final dinner was at the pizzeria we had been to the other night.  There we gave our guide a farewell gift we had all passed around and written in and signed so that he could remember the great times we had together, and he was moved to tears by the motion.

        We made our way back to the hotel to grab a few celebratory drinks.  As for myself, I had a 10 euro G&T with topshelf materials.  Was totally worth it!  Then came the last sleep in Austria and Europe.

5/28/12 To a Magical Place

A fun filled day.  We have another great breakfast and a rehearsal right afterward.

                Some lunch around the town then up to see the Hoff Weinstein castle (the one that Disney based his castle off of).  The tour area is quaint, with a lake, ring of Alps, farmland country side, running river, two castles and a lot of grass.  We take the mini bus up to the drop off point.  The trail is steady as we head up to a bridge on the map.  On the bridge, there is a fantastic view of the castle, but a thick mass of people each pushing their way around.  I got about 5 ft. onto the bridge before calling it quits.  On top of the hill there sat a man playing a zither and singing, I enjoyed his music and tipped him a euro. 

Still cool, despite the plasticwrap.

                The outside of the castle was undergoing renovations on one side.  We made our way inside the castle and heard the story about its origins.  King Ludwig II was a little silly about fantasy tales.  He had one castle as a kid made so he could pretend to be fighting dragons.  Then as an adult he made a second castle.  This castle’s outward appearance was so expensive that he couldn’t afford to finish the inside in quite such a nice fashion.  Most of the rooms were decorated by paintings, carvings, tapestries, all of which were based off of Wagnerian plays.  I wasn’t too terribly impressed by the 150 year old castle, but then again, I had just see buildings predating Christ, so that was a high bar to begin with. 

                The walk out through was tricky, because you have one souvenir shop following down to a café.  Then we headed down a spiral staircase to another souvenir shop, to another couple flights of stairs.  Finally an underground tunnel let us out halfway up the hill.

                Outside the exit there is another souvenir shop- one with all the same stuff as the other shops, but at a quarter of the price.  Here I buy another beer and a pretzel- pretzels are a German food, and delicious.

                We mosey on down the hill to where the horse carriages pick up people to give them a ride down to the bus lot.  As we arrive, the last horse carriage was just starting its journey with a full carriage.  We weren’t the only ones to have such bad timing, a couple of people from one of the other choirs also had to walk down the hill.  They made good conversation, and the walk was delightful, so no loss.

                We spend a little bit of time hanging out in a souvenir shop and barely make it back to the bus on time.  We headed back to Innsbruck proper, where we had dinner with a show of the local folk song and dance.

Great show! Great workout...

                The dinner was yet again fantastic- a French onion soup, followed by turkey in a teriyaki type sauce, potatoes, and fried zucchini.  The show, well, that was a great spectacle.  They wove the traditional liedenhosen and had the local yodeling (sounding exactly like Goofy from the Disney cartoons).  Their music was polka-ish, and they were always working hard with a lot of energy.  It was quite the show  At one point they got one of our choir lady folks to go up and sweep after a log cutting competition-it was great.

                Another night passing around a wine bottle, and a deep sleep to follow.

5/27/12 Innsbruck- Bridge of the Inn

                A late morning for once, but only to prepare for the long rehearsal we were to have with the other choirs. The other choirs are tired and not quite as used to the higher altitude as we are.  They sound rather ragged, but from a couple weeks of travelling, we didn’t sound in much better condition.

German Cathederal

                The day however is mainly spent touring the city.  The tour guide is a sweet old German lady with odd speaking patterns.  We bus up to one of the oldest cathedrals in the town.  It was interesting because it was Catholic, but not like the ones we visited in Italy.  We headed around the town, visiting a WWII museum and the Olympic ski jump they had there.  Then we drive around the town, finding out about its local history and traditions of the town.

Tomb of the original Hapsburg king, no he's not in it.

                We eventually wind out at a museum dedicated to the Hapsburgs.  It is a rather trippy museum, and never having really understood why Innsbruck was popular beyond skiing, was pleasantly surprised to learn from this museum.  Innsbruck is full of many secrets as it turns out, but only to those willing to explore.

                That evening, we had mass and a concert that took up almost all of the time.  It was far from our usual quality of singing, as after a week and half and a long day of rehearsal, we were tired.

                That night for dinner we head to a local pizzeria.  Never, ever, order the four cheese pizza in a country that is known for their stinky cheeses.

Best Beer EVER

               I should also go back about the other meals that day!  Breakfast was as good as it was in Rome, a wide spread of just about everything you could want.  It also had a lot of local cheeses and meats, which was great!

                The lunch was at a local biergarden, whose local tap was perhaps the best beer I’ve had in my life.  The first course was another fantastic soup- garlic cream.  Followed by a cream chicken sided with cheesy grits (I don’t know if they were really grits, but I couldn’t tell the difference).  And dessert was a cream-your-pants oh so good and delicious apple streudle.

5/26/12 Italy, May I Never Forget You

                Early rise to catch the bus, just as well since the breakfast was still completely unimpressive.

View from the "long bus ride"

               The bus ride is long, but the scenery is fantastic.  Driving into the Alps, we passed from terracotta roof tiles to the more slanted, red pine roofs of the German style houses.  We make the typical truck stops en route to Innsbruck.

                We arrived in Innsbruck in the afternoon.  We all wander around for a few hours getting a feel for the town.  The cities in Italy are crowded, busy, congested with frantic traffic.  Innsbruck is quiet, settled in the Alps, less frantic, but not as laid back by any means.

                The dinner is at the hotel, and on the way to it we ran into another choir we were to be singing with.  They hailed from Jackson, and were made of mostly older singers.

DAS BIER!!

                The dinner was made of three courses, like usual (and I’m still feeling really pampered).  The soup was what I think of us affectionately called “pancake soup.”  It was delicious, with some type of flatbread noodles that greatly resembled pancake strips.  Next came the region’s food of fame- the Weineschnitzel.  That was basically just breaded, thin sliced chicken; it was ok.  The dessert was Sachretorte-a chocolate cake with marmalade to cement the layers.  It wasn’t my favorite dessert, but I’m not a big cake fan.  The beer though was a locally brewed pilsner.  It was delicious beer, fresh, and wheaty.

Karate Chop Pillows!

                The room I have is great.  Small, cozy, but with a great bathroom.  I head to bed and crash.

                The day was mostly spent admiring the alps, a sight beyond words.  I also spent a lot of time observing the changes from Italy to Austria.  The architecture slowly moved from Italian to German, but the language also became a cross between the two languages as well.  

5/25/12 Venice, be Nice

                The breakfast this morning was rather confusing.  Me and my roommate headed down at 7, the time we were told breakfast would be at.  As soon as we got to the main restaurant our maestro told us that the breakfast was supposed to be at 7:45 and in one of the secondary restaurant.  Well, of course I wait until the time for food, but find that the place is locked up.  So as I peek at each restaurant, and sure enough, the first place I went to was the one place I was supposed to eat at.  As it turns out, the person working at the front desk before 7:30 was a complete idiot.

                Anyways, these breakfasts just get progressively worse we get further out.  Our guide says “These Northern Italians, hard workers, but a-so stingy.  You take a picture of the breakfast you have in Rome, and eat it, will fill you up better.”

                We make our way back to Venezia, this time dressed and prepared for the hot, humid weather.  We waste no time heading to the church we are going to perform at later, Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Miracoli, and drop off our costumes.  So the rest of the day (up to the performance) is to get lot in Venice.  The first thing I do is head over to the ATM and finally withdraw money, because it was payday.  The girls decided to have a girl day and go shopping.  Ironically we all wind out at the same lunch spot, and some of the girls decided they weren’t up for the girls day. 

View off the Rialto

               So, our now reformed group wandered around Venezia trying to find the Rialto Bridge.  Flavio made it sound so easy, “Go straight that way *whistle noise* turn right, bam!”  No, instead we got lost.  But that was ok.  There were opera hawkers handing out fliers for a show that night, and we found a local charcoal artist, whom I bought a picture from because she was actually really talented.

                Finally we headed over to a local tourist info spot, and shell out 3 euro to get a map.  Of course, upon examining the map, we find out that the directions we were given were backwards; it was straight on then directly right.  So away we go, stopping along the way for some yummy green apple and lemon gelato (and a less satisfactory Apersol Sprtiz).  We finally make it to the Rialto Bridge where the view was quaint, and the markets aplenty.  There were also a few more mask shops around which I took plenty of time to peruse their wares.  In the second mask shop the clerk was much more aggressive about her sale- by actually talking to me and what I’m looking for.  My checklist- 1)green 2) with sheet music on it 3) made in Venice, not China.  Well, she finds one for me, a girl face, but other than that exactly what I’m looking for (and I’m fairly certain they just made the masks in the room upstairs, but hey, I like it).  Its partial imperfections are great to me, but only because I like things that are perfectly imperfect.

                After the mask shop we head up to the end of the bridge, another line of shops of course was in store.  We round the corner trying to stray off the beaten path a little. To the far left we find a specialty shop that sells vinegar, wine oil, spirits and the like.  One of us purchases some wine then we find a very odd type coffee shop.  Now, it would fit in right in America, but in Italy, it was rather corporate and “Starbuck-esque.”

                Next we headed back up the Rialto Bridge to meet back up to the rendezvous point by St. Mark’s, but along the way I decided I needed one last slice of real Italian pizza, best slice I ever had.

                Now meeting back at St. Mark’s the choir heads to our final concert in Italy.  The church was resonant, and illuminated by the evening sunlight.  The audience was remarkably grateful and active throughout the concert.  I believe it was our best concert on the tour.

Organ from inside the church

               We ended our stay in Venice with some pizza for dinner, and purchasing real Tuscan wine for 2 euro.  Then a couple people in our group threw down with our tour guide in a card game known as Briscolla (very popular in Italy).  Our guide beat them, badly.  So it goes, he put on a good poker face.

                With one last boat ride, we bid farewell to Venice.  The hotel that night I spent most of the time looking for a way to open the wine I bought while not having a corkscrew.  Well, after an hour or so I head to the bar to see if they would open it for me free of charge.  Of course they did, but while the bartender was uncorking, a man at the bar started hitting on me, asking if, “I was buying some champaign for a lover.”  His English wasn’t that good, though, he still had that stereotypical gay lisp.

                Well, I head back up to my room where me and my friends pass the wine bottle around until it’s all drunk (we had no glasses…).  After the wine, we all head to bed.

5/24/12 To Venice, my Love

        Another early morning when I wake up at 6am.  We have quite a full docket for Venice today, so must be on the bus early and beeline it to our destination.

        Like always, the bus ride feels longer than it is, but not without a wonderful view of the countryside.  I look at to see the hills of Tuscany flatten out into farmland.  I also notice that beautiful flowers blossom along the area like weeds, I wonder why we don't have nice looking weeds like these back home.  We make a pit stop and I decide to pick some of these flowers for myself and dry them in my journal.  I will say that updating a journal and driving this road is difficult since it goes through a great many tunnels that screw your vision up.

View from the connecting bridge

        The drive goes about the same as always, but coming to Venice is something of an oddity.  The outlying city that surrounds Venice proper is an industrialized, near eastern European looking city-very grey, very dull, and ontop of a less than ideal terrain.  Then you enter the bridge that connects to Venezia proper.  The water that streams along, the sight of a city on the horizon and ships coming to dock, the town is a wonderful and alien place to me.
   
        The city of Venezia is full of fantastic history.  The city itself was founded when local farm villages were tired of being ransacked by Barbarian hordes some 1800 years ago.  So they fled to the marshlands to found new villages.  Well, sand doesn't make good foundations, so they needed to improvise.  They used a technique of combining local clays and sediments with the local woods to create pylons that were almost as strong as cement.  They would then drive these pylons into the ground and create an impromptu foundation.  But still, the buildings must be constructed lightly or else they will sink into the bog.

        Now, the city is also home to a few famous individuals.  The Doges are from this area, and since Venezia was the world's leading trade capitol for a few hundred years, that is a big deal.  Amerigo Vespucci, that man who funded Christopher Columbus, was also from here.  St. Mark's Cathedral is in Venice as well.

        "They" tell you (in this case every Italian that talked to me about Venice) that Venezia is a city of impossibilities coming true.  It was a city made by farmers on water, a city that takes your emotions and magnifies them and betters them, a city of romance and mystery.  I can say, without going into great detail, that I find this to be absolutely true.

Da Boat

        We make our way from the bus stop to the boat docks.  Here we board onto our GT water cruiser, woohoo!  Well, we made our way up the main split between the islands- a large highway type canal.  It is interesting to watch this city zoom by, with its seaside churches and city scape that is the same level as the water.   Even crazier to think is that this city is made up of hundreds of tiny islands connected by hundreds of tiny bridges, truly a city that was made out of impossibility.

Inside the Doge's Palace grounds

        We head to St. Mark's Piazza, to a nearby storage place so we can stash our costumes and excess baggage.  The square is wide, surrounded by the Doge's palace, St. Mark's, and numerous museums.  We are granted a few hours to "get lost" in Venezia.  Which, with my current group, meant finding shops and that didn't get us very far into the city.

        When it comes to the shops in Venice, there are three main things they sell there: 1) Glass goods (the Murano Glass factory is there, and for every piece of fine glass they sell, there is an entire vendor hocking knockoffs) 2) Masks (The Carnival of Venice, but these are a great souveneir and cheap too! Locally made as well) and 3) Art supplies (a lot of fantastic artists and art museums exist in this city).

View, from the bridge- of-a SIGHS

        We head back to our spot outside of the Piazza by the docks, where we meet our next tour guide.  I didn't actually get her name, but there is a quote I will never live down because she said it so many damn times- "The Bridge; of-a SIGHS."  Well, to get to that quote, I should explain the story.  We entered into the tour of the Doge's Palace.  The building stands out to me as being unique in that it is 1) The first true Baroque building we've encountered, 2) Made out of wood, yet still very Roman, and 3) Impressive given its layout.  In any case, I am not too impressed with the museum of the building itself, only because the time of Venice's worldpower was before America, so I have a hard time grasping its influence and impact on the world.  There is some cool clockwork and art within the building which made it fantastic, as well, as our tour guide kept saying, the bridge, of-a SIGHS- don't get any romantic ideas.

        Then we had a quick tour of the inside of St. Mark's.  This building is proof that vanity is a sin.  It is made entirely out of marble with gold flecked mosiacs for the ceiling.  All this weight has caused the church to start to sink, so careful restorations are being done to try an preserve this landmark.  I will say, it is a rogue church in the Vatican's eyes.  As you enter, there is a Greek Cross hanging from the ceiling, and the layout and decoration of the church is very much Greek Orthodox.  This Duomo was built before St. Peter's, and so was allowed this leeway by the Vatican.  However, even the officials from Mark's are a little rogueish as well.

Dude making a 200 euro vase in 5 minutes

        Well, after our free time is spent meandering and observing the locals, we head back to our rendezvous point outside of St. Mark's.  From here, we headed to the Murano Glass factory for a tour and demonstration.  Talk about cool too! Glass blowing, in my humble opinion, is a very understated artform that is as practical as it is beautiful.   We are taken to a demonstration room right inside the entry way.  Here we watch a middle aged man blow a dumpy ball of glass into a beautiful vase within 5 minutes- and judging by how much the vases inside were, it would have probably sold for around 200 euro.  Then after the demonstration, we are admitted into the shop area.  Here we are given another salespitch and demonstration about the quality of the glass.  I will admit, the product they sell is damn worth the price- if you like gold on everything.  Still, it was how I imagined Charlie always felt when walking into Wonka's chocolate factory- bright tasty colors in fun shapes bouncing everywhere.
     
        We head to dinner after the demonstration, curving along the back alleys until Flavio finds the place he knows and made reservations for.  The place is rather large for Italy (and Venice as well).  They serve us a tasty (meat free) lasagna for our first course.  For our second course we have roast duck.  I had never had duck before that tasted this good, and I somehow wound out with 5 peoples helpings (guess not a lot of people were fans).  And for dessert, delicious raspberry gelato!

        We hopped onto the boat, to get back to the bus, and headed back to our hotel.  There, we watched a thunderstorm roll over us from the balcony we had attached to our room.  Overall, a great way to end a day in a city as wonderful as Venice.

5/23/12 Highs and Lows

                A reprieve today, that we were allowed a few hours of down time (a few meaning 6).  We started our day around 8, our phone didn’t quite make it back on the hook after yesterday’s wake up call, so we had to wake up on our own accord-hence the late morning.  So our day starts in a panic and we barely make breakfast, but we still made it and quickly scarfed it down.

               Rehearsal was at 9 down in the basement of our hotel.  It was not the ideal location, acoustically speaking-carpeted, filled with furniture, and inconsistent materials making up the walls.  But hey, it was a space large enough we could rehearse in!  We went over the songs we were going to perform for our final concert in Innsbruck, Austria.  The music was not difficult, and it seemed that a lot of people hadn’t taken the time to even look at the music, so the rehearsal was frustratingly slow.

Up the mountain

                After the rehearsal was our long awaited down-time!  A group of us headed to the cable car (fulicore, in Italian) and bee-lined it up to Montecatini Alto.  Montecatinit Alto is the sister city way up in the mountain from Montecatini Termi (hence the Alto-Termi bit).  It was worth the 4 euro to just see the two cities from the steep climb of the fulicore.  On this ride, I kept accidently getting in the shots of a touring group of British folk, and them in mine.  We talk a little, share snarky comments, and come to terms with the fact that we like each other.  The main individual I was talking to, whose name was Charles (older than the prince by the look of it, but still…) just quips when we get off the tram saying “Trevor, you seem to have become a big part of my life, how would you like to be adopted?”  Great quote, good people.

                Once off the tram my group decides they want to go eat at a fancier resteraunt.  I was willing to pass on this in lieue of 1) I still had no money and 2) I wanted to explore with the shop hungry girls around.  Oh well, I went in and sat with them (for a 2 euro charge).  The place outlooked the eastern valley, and was well worth the 2 euros.  Their food was also spectacular, though I ordered nothing (only taking nibbles of other people’s food) and enjoyed the scenery, as well as caught up on this journal.

                After we ate we wandered the Alto a little, discovering that the olive oil in this area costs 3-5 euro, where in the States it would easily cost $15.  Crazy! (it reminds me of Vanilla in Mexico, dirt cheap and higher quality than what the States can produce)

                We then noticed the time, about 2:45, and we needed to catch the bus back down (we opted out of taking the tram back down just cause we wanted to experience something different).  Well, to begin, you have to buy the bus ticket from a station in Italy- not on the bus.  The gentleman at the ticket-shop spoke next to no English, but we caught the gist that we weren’t going to get a ticket from him (he was friendly and kind too, something that apparently breaks the language barrier-good to know).  Well, now the  bus shows up and we ask the driver if we can just pay on the bus, he tells us no and that we have to go buy a ticket.  We head back to the gentleman and explain, he walks out, exchanges words with the bus driver, and manages to let us know we can ride the bus for free.  Sweet! Only… now for the most exciting adventure a tourist can have- dealing with the local bus systems.  Well, to begin, the driver is a jackass (something that also seems to break international boundaries-rude bus drivers), and a mad man driver.  The roads are barely wider than the bus, and they make hairpin turns down the mountain.  It could be that the driver just wanted to scare us, or it could be the way he normally is, but in either case, he successfully scared me half to death.  Then I realize- we’re going down that eastern side of the mountain, exactly the opposite way we want to go.  We wind out in another town on the other side of the hill, when he turns around and comes right back up the way he went down.  This is a bit of relief, because if we stop right where we got on, we could still make the fulicore down and make the bus ride to our next tour stop.  Well, then the driver goes down the north face of the mountain, and heads west.  The entire time I was in the bus I was trying to make out the route maps posted on the windows, they had the national, the regional, but not the local map posted, so they were next to worthless.  At this point me and my companions are faced with another realization- we have no idea how to stop the friggin bus.  The driver stops to pick up another lady, thank goodness too.  Because this lady goes about half a mile, hits a well hidden stop button (right about the handlebars), and we get off with her.  Now, we are a little freaked because we still need to find the hotel again, but at least we know we’re in the right city this time.  We head along the main road we’re at, until we see Antiono and his tour bus pass, us, and we know we’re on the right track.  We follow that bus as far we could, then we notice a familiar courtyard off to the side.  We were able to make it back with 20minutes to spare, which is a triumph.  No more buses for me unless Antonio is driving.

A well kept wall

                Today’s town was a medieval town with the largest Renaissance wall still preserved, Lucca.  This town is rather windy, with cottonwood trees which remind me of home.  The town is also famous for being the birth place of Puccini, the opera composer.  His house was turned into a rather pricy museum (considering the space and that it was for just one composer), and right across from it was the resteraunt Puccini would take his ladies of the evening.

Piazza San Martino

                The church we were to sing in, Piazza San Martino, was an oddity.  The façade was a newer, early Rococo/Late Baroque façade that was obviously added onto the already existing church.  They were able to use the same marble at least, and in the same style as Firenze (red,green,white).  It had three rows of columns creating an arching effect, and totaling 37 columns in total.  Each column was uniquely decorated to the gills (Rococo).  The inside had in essence two front doors- the first that belonged to the addition, and the second to the original church.  The original was very Gothic.  The interior also, very Gothic.  This Gothic interior fits far better with the bell tower outside, which was also Gothic.  Unfortunately for us the interior of the church was undergoing rennovations, so a lot of its grandeur was lost by scaffolding and tarps.

                After dropping off our stuff, we had more free time to kill.  We wander around Lucca, looking for a good, inexpensive place to eat.  At one piazza we come to a place that essentially is an outdoor concert hall, and there in it, a string trio just playing some Classic tunes.  After that we found a mediocre pizza place, and do some window shopping, which was fine because I was allowed to observe the locals and see how different they were from the other places we had been. 

                After returning to Piazza San Martino, I re-examined the outside of the building.  Curiously I noticed a Celtic cross on the arch outside of the building.  This is a very random thing to find in a town that was definitely Baroque and Italian-so what exposure to Britain this town had, remains a curiosity to me.

                The concert was great.   The hall was so live, it allowed around a 5 second reverb at its shortest, and 12 seconds at its best!  If you are a performer, a long reverb can cause a person to get lost listening to themselves and force dragging in the music.   Yet again, this seems to be common with Gothic architecture. And even for being under construction, the church was still very beautiful.

                After a phenominal concert, we hopped on the bus and headed to bed.

5/22/12 Firenze

                Woke up excited for another fantastic Italian breakfast.  It was good, but considerably more disappointing than the first hotel’s.  With how fast my metabolism is and how meager that breakfast was, I was going to be hungry by 1. 

                We boarded the bus early to get to Firenze.  Firenze is a Renaissance town basically funded by the Medici family back in the day.  Italy during the Renaissance was not a unified country, and was factioned into city-states.  These city-states were controlled by rich families- the two most prominent being the Medici (which is Italian for Medicine man) and the Borgia (don’t know what that one means).  This town is also the home of Leonardo DaVinci, Bottecelli, Michaelangelo, Dante, and numerous other noteworthies from Italy. 

                Our first stop of the day was to the Acadame de Arte to see Michaelangelo’s David.  The tour guide for the length of our stay in Firenze was a stocky, spry, passionate (albeit gruff) man named Berni.  He was definitely artist and very enthusiastic about the history of the town’s art and those artists from there.   (Berni was also in a couple episodes of Jersey Shore, which he doesn’t like, but thinks it’s funny enough).

                Once inside the Acadame we made our way to the main hall that showcases David.  Before David however, there is a line of 4 of Michaelangelo’s “emergining” sculptures.  These are lesser known sculptures of his in which he intentionally left “incomplete.”  It is Michaelangelo’s artistic philosophy in regards to sculpture that the works are already inside the marble, they are just waiting to be released.  To capitalize on this he created these emerging sculptures by only partially “uncovering” the figures inside, but leaving them trapped enough to create the contrast and dynamics for the pieces.  Compared to David, these sculptures are coarse, with the lines from the chisel intentionally left visible. 

                David however, is very much one of the best things I have seen in my life.  The statue stands over 16ft tall, hewn from a block of marble that was rejected by several masters of its time for being “too hard, and too un-usable.”  Mikey at the time was still a relative unknown in the art world, but in his cocky pride he believed he could use the giant block and make the best David the Church had ever seen.  So, given a few years and a hunky man-slave whom he used as the model for David, Mikey had completed the piece.  Now, the Church had been expecting a David as the Bible depicts after slaying Goliath-with a lion’s skin, a sling, and holding a giant’s head, or some such nonsense.  Instead they get a young man in his early 20s ready to move on the giant, standing naked (which was how the Roman athletes performed-important to note because inducing Modern traits to ancient concepts was a Renaissance thing), about to fill the sling and fire. 

                The sculpture, is to put it in the simplest meaning, perfect.  It depicts the perfect athletic man of the western world.  It is a true homage to the artistic merit of the human body, and the emblem of the art world entering into the Renaissance.  The Renaissance moving body position (as opposed to the Medieval static positions), the perfect body proportions, the smoothness of the marble, the intricacy of detail, the Humanistic expression of the body, it all comes together so perfectly to make the model man.

                The history of David is just as interesting as its creation.  To paraphrase: it has survived two riots, had a marble bench fall on it off of 4 stories- and break the bench (with barely a crack to show for it), been graffitied on its back, survived a gun shot to the left foot, and survived a crazy sculptor in the 1980’s who attacked it with a hammer.  All in all, a sight you should see before you die.

The Duomo

                After the Acadame we were allowed to tour the other sites in Firenze.  The first stop was the Duomo.  Now, every town thinks their Duomo is “The” Duomo, but folks, when you read literature and they just simply refer to “The Duomo,” they mean this one.  Aside from St. Peter’s, this is the largest church in the world.  The church opposite it (which was built before), has a large gilded door with 12 panels depicting different stories from the Bible.  Now the door took 20 years to create, in contrast, the Duomo took 20 years to build.  So, the Medici’s decided (they of course funded both projects) to go with the Duomo since it was bigger and already done by the time just the door was done on the other church (they were renovating the first church to be more aesthetic “to God”).

DaVinci's Studio

                After the quick shot of The Duomo, we made a quick stop to see the place where DaVinci had painted the Mona Lisa, and then to the Piazza outside of Firenze’s city hall.  This is the largest outdoor sculpture museum in Italy, and it is amazing.  To being they are all nestled in the visage of the city hall, a building which was modeled after a Castle, the philosophy being that the people who choose those that rule them are also to defend the center of political life in the city.  The sculptures though are all masterworks of the Renaissance.  See them too, because it is where David was originally placed (a fake now stands in its place), but it is next to Heracles, Poseidon, the first sculpture ever to feature no definitive front or back (three figures intertwined with each other, way cool!), and half a dozen other statues just as noteworthy (only because the David there isn’t the original, or else they would all seem eclipsed). 

That is one diverse church

                After the sculpture-yard we made our way to the 2^nd largest church in Firenze.  This church is an oddity, because on top of being a large traditional Catholic church, there is a large stained glass Star of David crowning the main entrance.  The marble is also red, white, and green.  This church was renovated to include the star after Italy’s unification in the 1800’s.  The star represents that all peoples of all faiths and descent are welcome in Italy.  Each color of the marble represents different aspects as well- Red for charity, white for purity, and green for peace.  And according to Berni, it is only coincidence that the Italian flag shares these colors.  The two were not connected in any serious manner.  Inside the church the remains of such famous Florenteins as DaVinci, Boteccelli, Dante, and about a dozen other peoples of note are inside-check it out, it’s worth the time.

                We hit the shopping centers after this.  Firenze is known for 1) Leather 2) Jewelry (very fine, expensive jewelry) 3) Art 4) Tourist Crap 5) Pasta 6) Overpricing.  It pays to shop around in this town- often times you will find the exact same item you want, but for varying prices.  So if you look to spend more than 30 euro on a particular item, look around, you may be able to find it for cheaper, and if not, try to haggle- it works in Italy (though it’s not as well advertised as in Mexico). 

                We find all the jewelry shops on the Old Town Bridge.  The view here in wonderful, and only about and 8 minute walk from either of the large churches, just follow the big roads and you’ll inevitably find it.

I thought this was awesome

                Once shopping was finished we took a proper tour of The Duomo.  The inside is surprisingly naked.  Well, here’s why:  The story of The Duomo coincides with that of the duomo in Siena.  During all the wars Siena and Firenze would have with each other, the loser had to pay excess taxes for reprimands and expansions.  Well, everytime Siena would expand their church, Firenze would expand theirs.  Then, for shits and giggles, Firenze would go to war with Siena.  Eventually, both towns ran out of money for expanding their churches.  And the Medici’s also ran out of money to complete the inside of The Duomo.  So you walk inside, and many of the windows are plain, the walls, naked.  There is a nifty crypt you can go into, and you can even go up to the bell tower next to The Duomo (the tower only appears taller than the dome’s cross, it’s an intentional optical illusion to prove that the Medici’s just like to muddle around).

                However, the fresco ontop of the inside of the dome it spectacular.  It isn’t to the same grandeur as St. Peter’s, but it is gorgeous and memorable- it is easy to know why Michaelangelo found the dome his main source of inspiration (according to Berni, when Mikey was called up to go to the Vatican, he looked out his window to The Duomo and said “My beloved, I am sorry, for today, I must go and make your sister, and she will be more beautiful than you.”).  There is also a very famous painting of Dante’s Divine Comedy in there, as well as paintings the depict the typical Medici and a painting of the typical Borgia citizen. 

                After  our tour of the Duomo came our concert.  The church we performed at was less than a block from The Duomo, and was called Chiesa di Santa Maria de’ Ricci.  Befitting the rest of Firenze, the church was a victory of the Renaissance and exhibited a fantastic acoustic.  The priest was an unusual old man, but a well-meaning person too.  He ran around with his cute dog, helping us get ready for the concert and get about.  He apparently had a thing for smut novels, and was hoping to write his own.  He also loved to snub the local cardinal, having broken the rules to let us perform that night. He also faked his own death to get this same cardinal off his back at one time- my kind of priest!  The only issue with having a hall that live, is that Firenze could just as easily be called the bell tone city, because within that one block of The Duomo, you can hear dozens of churches donging their bells at the same time.  Our concert was an hour and half, so we were able to hear them ring a few times.  The hall also picked up a lot of the traffic noise from outside, but the plus side is that the hall required little effort to project.  The audience was fantastic, having a full house with a full back area full of walk-ins.  Even in our rehearsal we gained quite the audience.  It’s nice to go to a country where they relish sacred music, it reminds me why I’m a musician to begin with.

                After the concert, we headed to dinner.  Beef cubes with instamash style potatoes, but hey, it was free, and better than basically anything I could make.  Then back on the bus, to the hotel, and bed.

5/21/12 Gusto

(According to our tour guide) Gusto- Italian word meaning made up of natural flavor.  Such as just using whole vegetables and natural ingredients to make food instead of combining a bunch of spices.  Can also be used to describe how Italians view their personal philosophy-keep it nature based.

        This was to be our last morning in Rome.  I take time to enjoy one last grand breakfast before heading to the bus and checking out of the hotel.  There was a 3 hour bus ride today to get us to our new hotel destination.  Though, there would be two towns to split the drive up- Siena and San Giminiono (sp?).
        The countryside is fantastic-though if you were to ask nearly anyone else from the trip they wouldn't be able to really tell you, as they were all asleep.  But the grassy countryside gave way to rolling hills and vineyards, and giving the air an almost ember tinge to everything.  Tuscany is the province, and pictures do not do it justice.  There was a lot of rain today as well, but not with dark brooding clouds, but lighter grey clouds that seemed nearly cheerful with the idea of rain.  Seeing the clouds roll along the countryside and enshroud the farmlands into mist was a nice touch, and in a way, very Gusto.

Big Nutella on top of a GIANT Nutella

        We made our first pitstop at a truck-stop.  Only here in Italy they are referred to Bus-stops, which makes sense because there are by and far more buses than trucks on the roads.  The insides of the stop are, from my experiences here in the States, quite clean and friendly-not the grungy oil stained slop house I was expecting.  They have a full espresso bar inside the store as well as a resteraunt, as well as a grocery store.  Perhaps one of the most quirky things about Italy that I've seen is that they love Nutella brand nut-butter.  It was present at all my breakfasts and most places that sold food.  So here in this first gas station, there lies a giant (appx.3 gal.) tub of Nutella, 40 euro for the interested consumer...  Other than that, the pit stop is the same in every country-find the bathrooms, be delightfully disgusted by certain parts that are just gross, wash your hands, and avoid touching anything else from there on.

15/17 Districts (I'm not a great photographer, hence the two corners cut)

        Our ride takes us to our first town after that- a lovely town that grew out of Medieval tradition named Siena.  This town stakes its fame from one particular event that is held twice a year; a no-bars horse race called the Palio di Siena.  It is a competition to see who is the best horse racer in the town, and the only competitors are from the 17 districts inside of Siena's Medieval town itself.  The thing about Siena, is that they don't focus so much on the outside world-people are born, baptized, married, and buried within their district.  And getting into a district if you aren't born to it is a serious difficulty.  The horse race itself is held in the center of the town in the half circle Piazza del Campo.  They fill the Piazza (which is the usual place for commerce in town) up with a few layers of dirt, set up some rails, and enjoy watching jockeys beat each other to win a race.
        Before we enter into the medieval district of town we meet up with our local tour guide, Paolo.  He is an older Italian dressed like a British gent, almost like a spy you would expect to hand you a mission.  He is humorous, but in that very dry, professor-like way.  He and our main guide get along really well however, so I can tell that we should pay attention to what this main was saying.  He guides us through a few districts as we make our way up to the Duomo of Siena.

Duomo di Siena

       The main reason we come to Siena though is to see the Duomo of Siena.  It is a large church constructed out of black and white marble, with a long unfinished portion off to one side.  Why is it unfinished? The city ran out of money to fund the project (more to come of that later), and the main portion had already been finished, so ya.  The tower is also a little topsy-turvy in that it has an ascending number of columns the higher you go, creating an inverted triangle-really cool to me.  Once inside the church however, it is treated as much as a museum as a place of worship.  There are exhibits celebrating Siena, Tuscany, the Church and Christ.  I also noticed that the outside of the building looked much more Rococo,and the inside was much more in a Gothic style.  No flash photography is allowed in this church (same with most museums that house items that can be damaged by excess light), and every time someone has a flash go off, Paolo turns and yells at them "No flash photography please!" in the way you know your parents yell at you to be stern, and still get the message across that they aren't afraid to punish you further.  After he does this a few times he turns to the group and says "Me and the guy upstairs *gestures up* came to a special agreement that only I get to have, that everytime I say that in this church, I get two weeks out of Purgatorio, of course I don't know how much good that will do me, but I'm sure it helps."  So one of the better quotes from this day (and trip) was "ah, another two weeks off."

        After we see the main altar and one of Michaelangelo's sculptures, we get to go to a special room that houses five hundred year old, original mint-condition chant manuscript.  For those of you who don't know, this is a Choir Tour, and I just graduated with my undergraduate in music.  These were quatragram chant music lexicons.  I cannot tell you how long i just stared at these in awe-my heritage, right there in the leaflet.
        We break for lunch before our impromptu performance at the Duomo.  My group finds a pizza place right off of the Piazza di Campo where for 2 euro 50 cents, you could get a slice of pizza that was bigger than my head.  We meander around the town, looking at the local goods (leather was still at a good price here), and the junk shops are what won out for me in this town because they sold a lot of local Siena based stuff dealing with the races and the districts themselves.
        Well, between Paolo and our main guide, we are allowed to sing a few pieces inside these high vaulted walls.  The accoustics were amazing.  The Gothic interior allowed for a sound that, in my opinion, was far more catering to our Russian piece, Bogoro Ditse devo.  The bass in there carried so sweetly, and clearly, I personally think this was the best vocal performance I had ever given.  And in true fashion of ISU's choirs, we went a few songs over our allotted time.  The clergy were none-to-pleased, but at least they weren't rude about it (and to be fair it was because it was closing time at the church and they wanted to go home, presumably to watch horse races).

Wishing well top in foreground, city in background.

        After all was said and sung, we boarded back up onto the bus, and drove another 45 minutes to get to San Giminiono.  This town was a true medieval city.  It is peppered with tall standing towers throughout the town.  And where Siena had modernized quite a bit of their buildings, S.G. seemed to have left most facades looking the same (though I can probably safely assume the insides were very modern).  The towers were of course, the way families in the town could show off their wealth.  It's basically the same idea as owning giant cars in America-the bigger your vehicle, the more self conscious you are.  Still, the towers make the town unique and charming.  There is also some fantastic vantage points to see the Tuscan country side all around the town.  We stop here to sing at the local church, a place Dr. A had been working to get to sing in on 3 different trips- he was pretty giddy that we finally succeeded (and I think then and there Dr. A knew our guide was the best he had ever had).
        The acoustics inside are fantastic for Italian Baroque.  The hall carried the sound with little effort, gave plenty of feedback, but didn't overwhelm the hall with clustering noise.  This hall could easily be my favorite to sing in in Italy.  After our set of music, the Priest  asks us he could show us something he thought was very special.  It was a private tour of the shrine to the patron saint of the church.  The saints name escapes me (and by extension the name of the church), but her story goes like this:  At the age of 12 she had a brain annurism that caused her to be immobilized.  As the story goes, she decided to lay on a wooden table, to emulate Jesus' suffering on the cross.  After four years, she was visited by a Papal Spirit telling her that for her faithfuless her suffering would soon come to pass.  All this time she is assisted by an arthritic old maid, who began seeing this girl as something very special, because this girl provided this old woman a reason to live and be useful.  Six months later, the girl passed to Heaven just as the spirit had said, and something strange happened in the surrounding country side.  The local flowers which always bloom white, that day bloomed yellow.  A blind boy touched her feet and was able to see again, and the old maid who was so deep in grieving the loss of not only her friend-but of her usefulness too, had her wrists suddenly grasped by the deceased girl, and afterwards had no arthritis.  They still kept her brains in a jar, right there in the church.  I felt very honored that the priest would choose to share this story with us, a group of foreigners who offered him nothing more than our voices.  Very humbling.
        Well, we have a short enough stop there to get some terracotta goods, eat some gillatto (always time for that), and hop back up on the bus.  We headed to the town we were going to stay in, Montecatini, a beautiful little town nestled in the midst of some mountains, and about 20 minutes outside of Firenze (Florence in English).

Our room, fancy!

        We stayed at the Grand Hotel.  The best way to describe this four star establishment is the sort of resort movie stars in the 40s and 50s would have gone to go skiing or hiking up in Italy.  The electric sockets didn't quite work in our room, our bathroom had no shower curtain (though a mobile shower head did drape down into the tub), and a great view.  To contrast, our friend had a room that had a random stool, slanted ceiling, and a shower that started at about 5ft.10in. and slanted down to about 5ft.4in., funny rooms.  This hotel wasn't bad by any means, it just had a very unique personality to it that I appreciated.  I felt completely underdressed for dinner that night which was at the hotels own resteraunt, a waiter-in-tuxedo type place.  I was in a white t and jeans... but the food was still really good!  We had another tasty pasta for the first course, veal for the second (which...ya...I'm not about the veal...), and tiramisu again for dessert.  Oh, and we all enjoyed some Italian wine that night.
        Important to note about the Chianti in this region- there is an official stamp that must be put on the bottle of Chianti in order for it to be an authentic Chianti from the Chianto vineyard region of Tuscany.  Our wine was not authentic, though we were told that the stamp was usually under the label, so you'd have to drink the bottle to find out if the brand was legit or not anyways.  As it turns out, the stamp is under the foiling they use to seal the cork.  And the stamp is a black rooster.  Why a black rooster?  Well as the story goes, the city states of Tuscany would always fight with each other.  At the end of one particular encounter, the warring states of Firenze and Siena (always bitter enemies), decided to have a horse race to determine land boundaries.  Well, of course, one side decides to cheat.  The black roosters in the area were their alarm clocks-meaning that when you heard them you woke up, and in the jockey's case, got your ass on a horse and rode like hell.  So Firenze decides to keep those roosters up all night so they keeka-deekee-dee late (oh, our tour guide was great with his animal noises).  Naturally, the rider from Siena woke up late, and wasn't able to get as much land as Firenze.  Fun!  And also, a true Chianti Classico is perhaps the best red wine I have ever tasted, more on that later.