Udine, Grande!

Yesterday my friends and I went to an Italian class for absolute beginners.  There was no need for us to go, I am going to take an intermediate class later in the semester. However, like we expected, it was a great place to meet more international students (especially female ones). We ended up abducting some from Poland who had just arrived in the city and were still living in a hostel...We drank wine all day and then thankfully, they finally found an apartment, which is very difficult in Trieste.  Later, we went to Piazza Unitá and then to some strange Carribean Bar that of course played Euro remixes to a variety of American songs including a disturbing techno rendition of Country Roads by John Denver.  But, as i am a few days behind on my blogging, here is last weekend's trip to Udine.

We got a call from the Spaniards telling us to meet them at 6:00 p.m. at the train station.  We arrived on time with a few bottles of liquor, some tonic water, and a lot of Fanta, and of course they showed up just in time to take the 7:30 train.  We were allowed to drink in the station and on the train, and people were very congratulatory to me as soon as they found out I was twenty.

"No, you can't in the States!  You can't!"  One of my Spanish friends had a Deep Purple shirt on and he told me he got it at one of their concerts in 1975, but I think he meant something else.

On the train we tried a bit of Alberto's tequila from Mexico, which made the tips of my ears turn red, but I find that Tequila improves my Italian, so I conversed the whole time with Isabel from Belgium and Sandra from Spain who both speak a bit of Italian but mostly Spanish.  My friend Lucas spotted a guy sitting by himself on the train with one of those shirts that has German flags on the sleeves.  We invited him to have a drink with us, and found out that his name was Raf and he was from Togo.  Raf had been living in Italy for a couple of months and was having trouble making friends.  Well he found the right group, and agreed to take the train past his stop to come to Udine with us and celebrate.

We arrived in the other major city of the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region to find thousands of people outside, socializing in and out of large tents set about the main piazza.  My new friend Fernando from Spain insisted that I speak English with him, which was a bit tedious because he only knows how to say a few things and he repeats them over and over.

"In my country we have this."  He gestured toward the tents and the groups of Italians.

"We have the people...outside."

"In my country we have more...soccer."

"In my country we have late eating."

This back and forth tested my patience because I was eager to practice my Italian, which I eventually did with Raf, who turned out to be the man.  He taught us a toast from Togo that we still use all of the time even though we are probably mispronouncing it.  We got a text from him yesterday, so I hope he comes with us this weekend to Croatia or Slovenia.  

The outdoor party in Udine had some interesting elements to it.  There was local food and Tocai, the white wine that his region is famous for, everywhere that you could sample for free and lots of remixed American songs...I think I heard Grease Lightning seven or eight times. African venders were walking around selling cowboy hats and sunglasses with crazy, flashing lights on them, which the drunk Italians bought in bulk wore proudly.  We received free T-shirts and I got some sort of sandwich from a girl who spoke to me in English and Italian.

"Your English is very good,"  I said to her in between mouthfulls. "Where are you from?"

"Denver," she replied.  Small world.

After seeing the character pictured above riding down the street I decided I had had enough...I needed to find out why they were having this ridiculous party, but it was difficult to get a straight answer out of anyone.

"Ciao, ragazze...forse potreste dirmi...perche questa festa...che significa?"

"Oh perche ogni anno...stasera, tutti vengono qua, e c'é un buona festa."

I got similar answers from everyone I asked.  Apparently they were having this party because every year on the same day, everybody comes to Udine.  They seemed to be troubled by the fact that I wanted there to be a reason for the party.  They were insistent that they festival occurred because many years ago, everyone decided it would be so.  After I received similar responses from a few groups of Italians, I was satisfied...who needs a reason to party?  

At around four a.m. we made our way back to the station to catch the first train back to Trieste at half past five.  My friend Fernando (who's last name is Torres, which you soccer fans will find interesting) found me on the way and was very apologetic because he wanted to speak more English with me, but he is from Southern Spain and he was far to cold. He kept rubbing his throat while smoking a cigarette, showing me that he was in pain.

"In my country, we don't have this, this cold."

"In my country..."  He couldn't go on, he clutched his throat and shook his head, I put my hand on his shoulder and told him not to worry, and then he proceeded to go on a thirty second rant in Spanish.  Apparently the cold was only affecting his ability to speak English.  

A few meters from the train station, a couple of the Spanish guys found some old abandoned bicycles and were riding them around the train station.  They would refer to everything as "Grande," which can be used to mean big, great, or awesome.

"Udine, Grande!"

"Espana, Grande!"

"Le biciclette, Grande!"

When I stepped onto the train, I found that the bicycles had been taken aboard and were coming with us to Trieste, prizes to remember an excellent night out.  They are still sitting in my friend Fran's apartment downtown, one with a homemade license plate that says "Espana 1"and the other with a plate that says "Italia 1."

I slept for most of the train ride, but did awake briefly to see Alberto standing at the front of the train car, eating pretzels and conducting the Spaniards in a spirited rendition of "Cielito Lindo."  Which involves a lot of Ay yay yay and something about Senores...I have to learn the words.