When life hands you bologna, don’t ask why life isn’t giving you the typical lemons instead; just go with it. That’s what I decided to do upon arrival in very atypical Bologna, Italy. The cities we’ve visited thus far have had one thing in common: they were very centralized. You pretty much knew where everything was because everything you needed was in the center square. Bologna was far from that. When we unpacked our things, not even having been there for fifteen minutes, Casey Arn and I decided to venture off in search of sustenance. We headed over to what we thought was the main road and took a left, toward the direction we entered from by bus, because Casey swore she saw some places to eat on the way in. I shrugged to myself and thought “sure, why not?” and we set off. Nearly half an hour later, after trudging down several different streets where there was certainly no food available, we completely changed course and walked in the other direction. Eventually we finally stumbled upon a place serving food. The wait staff didn’t really speak English, and when we walked in Casey was so tired that she said “non parlo Inglese” to one of the waiters, which essentially meant she was telling the man that he didn’t speak English. While she was not incorrect in saying this, it was certainly not what she was trying to say, so I covered up her delusional state by saying “non parlo Italiano. Parli Inglese?” The man laughed and called to a woman who spoke extremely broken English, but we didn’t need much translation in order to point to the pizza on the shelf that was covered in french fries and hot dog slices. We had quite the long walk back to the hotel, but between bites of the heavenly pizza and the truly in depth and personal conversation Casey and I shared, the journey that had felt like years in the beginning felt like seconds on the way back. Life certainly didn’t hand us lemons like we were accustomed to. But it handed us Bologna, and I think I got a pretty solid friendship as a result.

For our walking Florence assignment, I went with a group of people to the museum of natural history. Coming from a country town, I’m used to seeing deer heads and moose heads on people’s walls and it always makes me sad. For some reason I didn’t feel that way going into this museum. The first animal we saw upon walking in was a deer and I pet it’s fur (only afterward did I notice the “do not touch” sign… Oops). The first rooms were fairly interesting; there were things like tapeworms and spiders and crabs and seastars which were pretty cool to look at because they’re not things you see often. Then came the butterfly room. Hi, I’m a 20-year-old with an irrational fear of butterflies. This being said, I had to be led through the room of butterflies with my eyes closed (and also filled with tears). I was sweating substantially just with the knowledge that I was walking past so many of them. Thankfully I only saw one of them before someone warned me or else it might have been a full-blown panic attack. From there on out it was smooth sailing. I’ve never seen so many animals in one place. Monkeys, birds, large cats, sharks, snakes, crocodiles, and so much more. There were all shapes and sizes of every type of animal and I’ve never been so wowed by taxidermy in my life. I think what made it even cooler was that some of those animals were extinct and we were still able to see them. However, I think the coolest part of the exhibit was the wax museum portion. There were all types of wax sculptures of humans displaying all their muscular structures, nerves, and reproductive developments. Everything was so anatomically accurate it was amazing to think of how long ago they were made. All in all I had so much fun seeing all the things in the museum. However, I think the best part of any of these trips are the people who come along.

“I would haunt the fuck out of these people.” This was a direct quote from myself as we stood on the second level of the Colosseum. Phil and I were discussing how many people were brutally murdered in that very place when it was still used for gladiator fights back in the first century AD. It was used for this purpose for nearly 400 years, and, upon looking it up at a later time, more than 400,000 people were killed there as well over one million animals. I felt like I could feel their souls as I stood and looked over the ledge into the system of tunnels below where the slaves and animals were kept. I think it might have been windy, but to me the air was still. I was speechless. The thought of so much pain happening in one place was enough to make my breath short. When the tour guide began to move on to a different location, I moved from the wall and said to Phil, “it’s crazy to think how many people were killed here.” He nodded in agreement and responded, “I wonder if it’s haunted.” “Oh,” I said loudly, “I would haunt the fuck out of these people. Standing around here in awe, talking about how beautiful this place is? This place where I was murdered? Like no, fuck you, I’d definitely be haunting you.” I shrugged as he laughed and wrote what I said down in his notebook. I was serious, though. The Colosseum has tens of thousands of visitors every day and I know that most, if not all, of those visitors have the immediate thought of wow, this place is gorgeous. And they’re not wrong. When I stepped out of the metro station and suddenly (and unexpectedly) into the view of the Colosseum, my jaw actually dropped and I felt all the air leave my lungs. I could not believe such a magnificent structure existed, and especially one built in 80 AD that was still (mostly) standing today. But the Colosseum is about more than beauty. There are pieces of every warrior and every animal ever raised into that arena floor. Every creature, big and small, who fought for their lives, whether they won or lost. Nearly 1.5 million souls left their bodies in the same place. There is an old Latin saying: in vinum veritas. In wine there is truth. And while wine is a very important part of life in Italy (and too much of it does make you tell the truth), I believe the crux of it is the culture and the way the people preserve and embrace the past. I think it’s imperative to not just look at the ancient Roman ruins, but really look at them and not just appreciate their physical beauty but also what they represent and why they were built. To visualize the hands that carved them and feel the emotions felt by the people who were present at their peak. I...