Tag: Lived Experiences

15 Weeks in Italy: A Photojournal

written by Jack Wardynski for SPEL: Journalism

To commemorate my study abroad journey, I decided to use this final blog as a photo journal of some of my favorite spots and sights that I encountered during my 15 weeks here. Some are well-known, others are niche and minor, but they all left an impact on me and helped paint the picture of the country in my head that I will carry with me back to the States.

Fedora Pastry Shop (located at FUA & AUF’s Palazzi Community Center)

One of AUF & FUA’s own locations, Fedora Pastry Shop, located on Via Ricasoli, 21 became the staging ground of a daily ritual for me. The café was just a ten minute walk from my apartment, and most days I would make the short trek to grab myself a light breakfast. I tried to embrace the coffee culture while I was in Italy, and I came to enjoy starting my day with a pastry and a cappuccino. Also, it being a school meant that I would often see familiar faces from classes and events, solidifying itself as one of my most appreciated spots in the city.

Piazza San Marco, Venice

Piazza San Marco in Venice is one of the more popular attractions in the floating city, and it was a common meeting place for my family while we were exploring. This shot is from the top of the Campanile di San Marco is one of the most beautiful I captured during my semester. The crisp autumn air blew into the top of the tower as we looked out across the city beneath us, and we spent time identifying landmarks on the skyline that stood out to us. Much of the joy of Venice is exploring the undercurrent of canals that snake through the city, but getting this bird’s eye view was incredible as well.

Siena, Italy

Siena was one of the most memorable places that I visited during this trip, and Orto dei Pecci was the piece of it that has stuck with me the most. This community garden near the outskirts of town featured an eclectic assortment of landmarks, from a herd of free-range goats wandering the treeline to this odd sculpture that was placed in the middle of an open field. Something about exiting the hustle and bustle of the town and entering into this strange green haven offered a welcome respite to a long day of traveling.

The Giunti Odeon Cinema, located in Florence, Italy

The Giunti Odeon Cinema became an unexpected, but welcome frequent hangout spot for me. After first hearing about it online, I checked it out during my first week in Florence and was drawn in by the unique atmosphere. By day, the place is a bookstore and study center that plays muted films in the background, and at night the store is closed so a movie can be screened like in a proper theater. Getting work done here was a common occurrence for me, and while it was often crowded, the free Wifi and general relaxed vibe made it one of my favorite destinations in the city.

Viareggio, Italy

This shot of the seaside town, Viareggio is a particularly stunning one to my eye. This was another place that I visited when my family came to see me, and I initially wasn’t sure what the town had to offer. We ended up renting some bikes from a very kind old woman in the park and rode down the coastline, eventually arriving at the end of a pier. From there, you could see the whole town laid out in front of you, and the view with the cloudline and the mountains in the background was incredible. I will never forget this moment, and I am grateful I got to share it with my family who were experiencing Italy for the first time.

Gatto

This cat was one of my favorite Italian denizens that I encountered during my stay. I ran into him on the streets of Lucca, the fascinating walled city just to the west of Florence. Lucca was the first place that I visited after arriving in Florence, and spending the day exploring really gave me the opportunity to slow down and relax for the first time since leaving the US. The journey over and the days leading up to it were so hectic, I often neglected the opportunity to take in the excitement of what I was doing. This cat, who seemed so comfortable in his environment, resting on pillows that lined the street like he owned the place, was a role model for me: take a second, chill out, and breathe.

Riomaggiore, Cinque Terre, Italy

It goes without saying that Riomaggiore, and Cinque Terre as a whole, is one of the most distinctive places in the country. The vibrant, multi-colored houses were totally new to me, and the only other place that mimicked this style that I saw was the island of Burano in Venice. I had some delicious seafood in Riomaggiore, and then spent the rest of the afternoon exploring all of its little nooks and crannies. More than anything, I wanted to witness things while studying abroad that I may never see again, and that was certainly the case here, as no town back home can really mimic this.

Trastevere, Italy

The days I spent in Rome were fascinating to me. It had such a different feel to it than anywhere else I went in Italy, and the mixture of ancient architecture with modern infrastructure and culture made for an irreplicable blend. For me, however, I was most pulled in by Trastevere, a generally low-energy neighborhood just outside the city center on the west side of the Tiber River. This was where I found the best restaurants in the city, and in general the more relaxed mood offered a soothing refresher from the hectic sights and sounds of the Eternal City. It lacked the iconic landmarks one typically associates with Rome, but I would recommend anyone traveling to the city to check it out.

Basilica di San Miniato

For my money, the best view of Florence can be found here at the Basilica di San Miniato. I discovered this spot during a walking class conducted by an FUA professor, and it instantly clicked in my mind as a place that I will remember for the rest of my life. Located just a short hike from the crowded Piazzale Michelangelo, the Basilica gives you such an incredible perspective on the city, and for me, going up there during my first month here was so valuable. When I think back on my time spent in Italy, the sights from outside this tranquil abbey will be one of the first things I picture in my mind’s eye.

Uniendo Culturas

The Beauty of Finding Home in Another Country

written by Paula Simon Borja for SPEL: Journalism

Han pasado cuatro meses desde que llegué a Florencia, una ciudad que parece suspendida entre el arte de su pasado y el desorden vibrante de su presente. Vivir aquí era un sueño que me había acompañado desde hace años, un anhelo casi romántico que por fin se hizo realidad. Nunca antes había vivido fuera de México, y mi llegada estuvo llena de asombro y pequeños descubrimientos: las cúpulas imponentes que recortan el cielo, los aromas embriagadores de la comida que escapan de las trattorias y la música de la calle que parece marcar el pulso de la ciudad. Desde el primer momento, algo en Florencia resonó en mi interior. La calidez de la gente, el ritmo intenso de las conversaciones y la devoción por la comida me resultan extrañamente familiares, como si en este rincón de Italia estuviera redescubriendo pedazos de mi propio país.

It has been four months since I arrived in Florence, a city that seems suspended between the grandeur of its artistic past and the vibrant chaos of its present. Living here was a dream that had accompanied me for years, an almost romantic longing that finally came true. I had never lived outside of Mexico before, and my arrival was filled with wonder and small discoveries: the imposing domes cutting across the sky, the intoxicating aromas wafting from trattorias, and the street music that seems to set the city’s rhythm. From the very first moment, something about Florence resonated within me. The warmth of its people, the lively cadence of conversations, and the devotion to food felt strangely familiar, as if in this corner of Italy, I were rediscovering pieces of my own country.

Entre todas las similitudes, la conexión con la comida es quizá la más entrañable. En Florencia, cada comida es un ritual, un acto que trasciende lo cotidiano para convertirse en una celebración. Recuerdo una tarde en el mercado central, donde los colores y aromas de los ingredientes frescos parecían cobrar vida: quesos curados, panes recién horneados, frutas maduras y embutidos artesanales. Me transportó a los mercados en México, donde los puestos de chiles secos, especias y tortillas recién hechas vibran con la misma energía. Mientras saboreaba un panino relleno de porchetta, pensé en los vendedores y cocineras que, tanto en México como aquí, son los custodios de un saber ancestral, portadores de tradiciones que se comparten a través de sabores y texturas. Visitar el mercado, aquí y allá, es un acto casi mágico que conecta a las personas con sus raíces y da forma a la memoria colectiva.

Among all the similarities, the connection to food is perhaps the most heartwarming. In Florence, every meal is a ritual, an act that transcends the ordinary to become a celebration. I remember an afternoon at the central market, where the colors and aromas of fresh ingredients seemed to come alive: aged cheeses, freshly baked bread, ripe fruit, and artisanal cured meats. It transported me to the markets in Mexico, where stalls of dried chiles, spices, and freshly made tortillas hum with the same energy. As I savored a Schiacciata, I thought of the vendors and cooks who, both in Mexico and here, are the custodians of ancestral knowledge, carriers of traditions shared through flavors and textures. Visiting the market, here and there, is a near-magical act that connects people to their roots and shapes the collective memory.

Pero no todo son coincidencias agradables. En una de mis primeras semanas, fui a registrar mi residencia temporal. Llegué temprano, con todos mis documentos en orden, solo para descubrir que las filas eran interminables y los procesos, laberínticos. Fue una experiencia que me llevó de vuelta a las oficinas gubernamentales de Ciudad de México, donde la paciencia es indispensable para navegar la burocracia. En ambas culturas, la burocracia tiene ese peculiar talento para recordarte que, aunque todo avance, hay cosas que parecen resistirse al cambio.

But not everything is a pleasant coincidence. During my first few weeks, I went to register for my temporary residency. I arrived early, with all my documents in order, only to find endless lines and labyrinthine processes. It was an experience that took me back to government offices in Mexico City, where patience is neccesary for navigating bureaucracy. In both cultures, bureaucracy has that peculiar talent for reminding you that, while everything else moves forward, some things seem stubbornly resistant to change.

El caos también se manifiesta en las calles. Las motos y camionetas manejan con una audacia que raya en lo temerario, los peatones desafían las leyes del tráfico con una despreocupación admirable, y los autos parecen fluir más por instinto que por reglas. Este desorden me resulta, curiosamente, reconfortante. Me recuerda al bullicio de las calles mexicanas, al ir y venir caótico pero lleno de vida que define nuestras ciudades. Incluso la suciedad en las esquinas, los restos de una noche animada, tienen ese aire familiar que habla de la humanidad que late en cada rincón.

Chaos also manifests in the streets. Bikes and vans drive with an audacity that borders on recklessness, pedestrians defy traffic laws with admirable nonchalance, and cars seem to flow more by instinct than by rules. This disorder feels, oddly enough, comforting. It reminds me of the bustle of Mexican streets, the chaotic yet vibrant movement that defines our cities. Even the litter in the corners, remnants of a lively night, has that familiar air that speaks of humanity pulsing through every corner.

Hay, sin embargo, aspectos más oscuros que conectan a Italia y México. Al poco tiempo de estar aquí, comencé a notar cómo ciertas dinámicas de poder impregnan la vida cotidiana de manera sutil pero innegable, como un murmullo constante que todos escuchan pero pocos mencionan abiertamente. Pensé inevitablemente en las redes de crimen organizado en México, en cómo sus historias se entrelazan con la realidad diaria, moldeando una parte del carácter colectivo. En ambos países, estas sombras son reconocidas pero no permitidas a definir la identidad por completo. Hay una resistencia a ceder el alma de la cultura a estas fuerzas, un esfuerzo por preservar lo mejor de cada lugar.

There are, however, darker aspects that connect Italy and Mexico. Soon after arriving, I began to notice how certain power dynamics subtly but undeniably permeate daily life, like a constant murmur everyone hears but few openly acknowledge. I inevitably thought about Mexico’s organized crime and how their stories intertwine with daily reality, shaping part of the collective character. In both countries, these shadows are acknowledged but never allowed to fully define identity. There is a resistance to surrender the soul of the culture to these forces, a determination to preserve the best of each place.

El machismo es otro terreno común, aunque aquí se manifiesta de formas distintas. Las historias de las mujeres italianas que luchan por sus derechos me recordaron las marchas multitudinarias de México, los cantos y los gritos de justicia que llenan las calles cada 8 de marzo. En ambas culturas, la lucha por la igualdad y la dignidad es un movimiento imparable, un eco que atraviesa fronteras y conecta a quienes se niegan a aceptar la desigualdad como destino.

Patriarchy is another shared terrain, though it manifests differently here. The stories of Italian women fighting for their rights reminded me of the massive protests in Mexico, the chants and cries for justice that fill the streets every March 8. In both cultures, the fight for equality and dignity is an unstoppable movement, an echo that crosses borders and connects those who refuse to accept inequality as destiny.

Y luego está el nacionalismo, ese orgullo ferviente que tanto italianos como mexicanos llevan en la sangre. Aquí, como en México, hay una devoción por proteger la lengua, las tradiciones, la historia. Pero también hay una solidaridad implícita, una lealtad silenciosa que parece decir: “En las buenas y en las malas, los tuyos siempre serán los tuyos.” Es algo que siento en los pequeños gestos, en la manera en que se cuidan entre sí, en cómo defienden lo suyo con pasión y amor.

And then there is the undeniable nationalism, that fervent pride that both Italians and Mexicans carry in their veins. Here, as in Mexico, there is a devotion to protecting language, traditions, and history. But there is also an implicit solidarity, a quiet loyalty that seems to say: “Through thick and thin, your people will always be your people.” It’s something I sense in the small gestures, in the way they care for one another, in how they defend what is theirs with passion and love.

Ahora, mientras miro por la ventana de mi pequeño departamento florentino, las campanas de una iglesia cercana resuenan con una melodía que ya me resulta familiar. El aroma de una trattoria invade el aire, mezclados con el eco de pasos sobre los adoquines. Pienso en los sonidos vibrantes de México, en el calor del sol que abraza incluso en invierno, en los volcanes que custodian el horizonte de mi país. Las diferencias entre estas dos culturas son apenas un matiz. En el amor por la vida, la comida, la familia y la resistencia ante la adversidad, somos, al final, mucho más parecidos de lo que jamás imaginé.

Now, as I look out the window of my small Florentine apartment, the bells of a nearby church ring with a melody that has already become familiar. The aroma of a trattoria fills the air, mingling with the echo of footsteps on cobblestones. I think of the vibrant sounds of Mexico, the warmth of the sun that embraces even in winter, the volcanoes that guard the horizon of my homeland. The differences between these two cultures are few. In their love of life, food, family, and resilience in the face of adversity, we are, in the end, far more alike than I ever imagined.