The Case of the Vaporetti Thief

This past week I saw something very “urban,” a sight that shocked my mid-western mind. As I waited to step onto the vaporetti leaving Piazza dei Roma, I watched mindlessly as the typical crowd shuffled off the water bus. The vaporetti in itself is an interesting part of the Venetian culture- a communal transportation device, it constantly travels around the city picking up passengers of all sorts, both camera-toting tourist and authentic Venetians. The vaporetti is completely void of a sense of privacy and a complete contrast to the a car as a transportation vessel. Because of the lack of privacy, one must constantly be more aware of themselves and others around them. Many qualities become public on the water bus, such as one’s appearance and belongings, and therefore a fear of protection and self-preservation surfaces. From my past vaporetti experiences, I have always felt “on guard”, on display for the world to see. I constantly watch my belongings and the people around me. But, enough about the vaporetti, let’s examine the incident that occurred.

Back to the line….as the passengers exited the craft, I noticed a young man running full speed off the boat, holding a classy shopping bag high above his head. A well dressed business man chased after the man, reaching out and almost grabbing the fleeing man. However, he missed the assailant by an inch, and he begrudgingly slowed his pace with a defeated look on his face. The assailant ran away into the busy crowd shuffling in front of the train station, with the stolen bag held high in the air. As I watched him run into the crowd, I waited for some Good Samaritan to trip, hit, or simply stop the man, but the reality of the situation was that everyone continued about their business with nothing more than a glance. I was so in shock by what I had just seen that I almost forgot that I needed to board the boat. As I entered the vaporetti, I looked around for stunned faces and murmurs of the incident, but there was none to be found. My heart immediately went out to this stranger, and I found myself in a surreal state of alarm and discomfort. Before coming to Venice, I heard that petty theft was common, especially during high tourist seasons. However, after living here for several weeks and never feeling endangered or uncomfortable, I had developed a somewhat false sense of security in this foreign place. Perhaps it is a naivety of mine, but I have already acquired a sense of security in Venice. Although I always keep an eye on my bag in large crowds, I have never actually seen anyone who made me feel threatened or felt a need to obsess about keeping my belongings safe. I have briskly walked up behind slow moving tourists many times, in a hurry to catch a vaporetti or to make it to a store before it closes, only to find that the tourist quickly hugs their bags close to them, afraid that I may snatch them and sprint away in a single instant. I have always laughed to myself at their paranoid behavior, finding it especially humorous that they think that a young, American girl like me would ever even attempt this.

After this incident, I got to thinking about the psyche of the tourist, and the paranoia and fear that comes naturally when traveling to unknown places and entering foreign cultures. The nervousness that comes with a new place is undeniable, although a great deal of excitement is also inherent. I do not know the identity of the man who was robbed, but from his business suit and rolling suitcase, I imagine him as a traveling businessman who is not a permanent Venetian resident. This situation also raised the question- Why didn’t anyone help, or even pay attention to the incident? During a class discussion yesterday, Shannon brought up an interesting point about the psychological idea that the larger the density of people in a given place, the less likely people are to assist others in panic situations. I find this theory to be exceptionally interesting based on my recent experience, and actually true. Perhaps it is a Venetian indifference, in that petty crime among tourists is so prevalent that they become desensitized to it all, or the theory mentioned by Shannon playing out in real life, but whatever the reason, I am puzzled by the event. I feel as though I have seen a new side of the city and a new side of tourism culture in general. I definitely will be watching my bags more carefully on the vaporetti, and if I was in the way of the assailant, I would have helped. But, perhaps the truth behind it all is that what we think we would do it never what actually plays out. It is an interesting idea to ponder, and I am curious to if I see an other such incidents in my time left here in Venezia.

Venetian Voyeurs: A Bird's Eye View of Venezia

A large scale painting, composed of oil colors on an immense canvas, proudly hangs in the Museo Correr in the heart of Venice, the Piazza di San Marco. G.B. Arzenti’s “Pianta-Veduta di Venezia” is a depiction of the city from a bird’s eye view that not only displays a beautiful layout of the city, but also speaks volumes about the city of Venice itself.

The artistic decisions made by Arzenti while creating this piece not only add to the beauty of the composition but also highlight the nature of the city itself. The vivid bright blue of the water streaming through the canals and into the Venetian lagoon greatly overshadows the earthly and dull reddish-brown of the city buildings. This color choice emphasizes the water and conveys the importance of water in Venice. Water truly was, and remains to be, a valued resource for the city. In a time when there was a great fear of foreign invaders, the lagoon provided security and acted as a natural moat that protected Venice. Water was also the catalyst that allowed Venice to develop its mercantile industry and to become a major player in the international trade network.

Compositionally, there is a large quantity of ships found throughout the piece. The majority of the ships reside in the Venetian lagoon and near the Arsenal, depicting once again the importance of sailing in the Venetian society and the significance of ships for military combat, modes of transportation, and as vessels for trading. The ships in the work are extremely massive, with several of them being larger than the lagoon islands and parts of the city. Arzenti depicted the ships in such a monumental way similar to how the Gothic artists portrayed artistic subjects based on hierarchical standards and superiority. This focus on the ships once again points to the significance of Venice as a mercantile capital and also reflects the pride of the city for possessing such a glorious title.

For further compositional analysis, the city itself is unique in how it is depicted. While some buildings appear hazy and dark, a blend of color absent of detail, other buildings are exceptionally detailed and crisp. For example, the Basilica di San Marco is extravagantly detailed, complete with dazzling teal domes and bright crimson flags. The Basilica is the most colorful building in the piece, which is representative of the strong religiosity of the Venetians. The Ponte di Rialto also appears clearly in the work, proudly rising above the miniscule and lowly buildings around it. The Rialto is a chief landmark in Venice that has a superiority that other bridges simply do not possess being that it is the main bridge over the Grand Canal. Throughout Arzenti’s work, the more detailed, and therefore more significant, buildings appear on the edges of the canals, while buildings in the interior of the city appear less detailed.
All of the buildings in the piece are entirely unique, which is an amazing feat for such a large scale painting. The melting pot of architectural styles in Venice is described in this work, with Gothic pointed arches adorning the façade of some buildings while the gentle curves of the Renaissance style decorate others. In comparison to the buildings, the people in the city are portrayed as minuscule figures, lightly spotting the streets of the city and the Piazza. They appear as almost shadows, with the focus of the work remaining on the glory of the city itself and not on the inhabitants.

On the edges of the painting lies a cloudy mist that surrounds the city. The island of Burano is identified with a label in the painting, yet one can barely distinguish the island because it is lost in the foggy haze. This haze provokes a great deal of questions. What does this haze represent? The haze could indicate that Venice is protected, not only by the sea, but also by the elements of nature, and perhaps even God himself. Is the haze isolating Venice from the rest of the world? Arzenti could be implying that Venice is a sacred gem, a treasure that is lost in its own world while nothing else great truly exists beyond the sea. Perhaps Arzenti was simply depicting the natural mist that sometimes rolls into Venice from the lagoon, and nothing more. One could interpret the haze in many different ways, and the subtle incorporation of this element adds a sense of mystery to piece.

The perspective of the viewer in this work is interesting, because instead of being invited into the work, the viewer is distant from the subject. We, as the viewer, have a bird’s eye view of the city, allowing us to view Venice in its entirety. However, when one is in the city of Venice itself, it is impossible to view the city as a whole. The twisting canals and maze of calles barricade and separate the city into small modules, while the towering buildings shield the city from the eyes of those inhabiting it. Michel de Certeau’s work “Walking in the City” highlights the difference from viewing a city as a voyeur, high above city, and as a pedestrian from within the confines of the city down below. Certeau substitutes the word “walkers” for pedestrians in his piece, and describes them as living “down below, below the thresholds at which visibility begins” and states that they simply “follow the thicks and thins of an urban ‘text’ they write without being able to read it.” Certeau implies that those in the city cannot accurately view their surroundings like those above the “thresholds at which visibility begins” and seems to imply a form of ignorance that “walkers” posses that prevents them from understanding the true nature and reality of the city they inhabit. Certeau explains that we should strive to be voyeurs, rising above the natural constraints of being “in” the city and become free to examine the city from outside its “grasp.” Arzenti’s depiction of Venice allows us the luxury of viewing the city as a voyeur and invites us to detangle ourselves from the depths of the city.

G.B. Arzenti’s work may appear to be a simple painting of a map of Venice- however with closer examination, it is clear that the artistic decisions made by Arzenti reflect the personality of Venice and allows us to view Venice from a truly analytical, voyeur point of view.

Investigation into Liberty, Power and the Gothic Style

In his work “Space, Power and Knowledge,” Michel Foucault boldly declares, “I do not think that there is anything that is functionally- by its very nature- absolutely liberating.” However, in John Ruskin’s work “The Nature of Gothic,” he presents Gothic architecture as an essentially liberating form of architecture. The juxtaposing views of these great thinkers calls for investigation into the relationship of liberty and architecture, specifically in the Gothic form. The underlying idea in Ruskin’s piece is that Gothic architecture is a “free” form of architecture, meaning that is promotes the ideals of liberty and freedom. The Gothic style bestows power to the architect as opposed to the artistic style and the building itself. The architect has power over the work and what is being created. Along with shifting the balance of power from the style to the architect, the Gothic form also delivers power to all of humanity. This important shift of power is what makes the Gothic so unique, and ultimately so beautiful.
Gothic architecture fundamentally is a form of free artistic expression, encouraging creativity and enlivening the imagination of the architect. Ruskin speaks of this ability to create as almost a luxury, a severe contrast to the chains of conventionality (tradition, rationality, symmetry, and expectations) that enslaves other architects. His work reads, “If they wanted a window, they opened one; a room, they added one…,” and this essentially speaks to the power of the Gothic architect (Nature of Gothic). In more traditional styles, the power lies in the style itself and the architect must submit to a set of expectations demanded by the form.
Although there are, naturally, a set of characteristics that define the Gothic form, variation of these elements is encouraged and even expected. The Gothic style is typically characterized by architectural features such as pointed arches, tracery and flying buttresses. However, these core features permit a range of complexities and variations that allow the architect to manipulate and ultimately, create. As Ruskin explains, a pointed arch is such an undefined element in terms of proportions and style. The pointed arch supplies the architect with endless combinations of proportions, while the circular and rounded arch that is characteristic of earlier styles is always the same and does not permit variation. The Doge’s Palace in Venice excellently demonstrates this point. While gazing upon the façade of this Gothic beauty, one can easily see the variation of the pointed arch used, including wider and more curved arches alongside narrower and more peaked ones. Ruskin classifies tracery in the same way, in that tracery allows for many different designs so that the artist is virtually unlimited with his use of this element. The flying buttresses typically associated with the Gothic style also speak to the politics of Gothic architecture, for they spring off the building in an uncanny and untraditional way instead of being tightly wrapped up tight inside a perfect package. Instead of simply blending in or ornamenting the structure, like the pilasters of the Renaissance style, the flying buttresses exist solely for functional purposes and forge their way into our gaze without hesitation.
The Gothic style also admits its imperfections, and the artist has the power to make mistakes and not have to create a work that appears to be perfect. Much like the oppressive governments throughout world history who have demanded uniformity and perfection from their peoples, the rigid and unforgiving architectural styles that encourage these conventional ideals fail to, metaphorically, embrace the outsiders of society, the ugly and the unique. The Gothic form offers a haven for these individuals, with its grotesque gargoyles and unfinished appearance, and celebrates differences as beautiful, rather than a mistake. The Gothic form sees exquisiteness in the unconventional. For example, the Gothic jewel of the Ca’ D’Oro that rests proudly along the Grand Canal in Venice, displays a set of pointed windows in the courtyard with a balcony extending along the bottom. However, the balcony unexpectedly falls short of meeting the last window in the set of four. Immediately, this powerful artistic decision appears as a flaw; nevertheless, the nature of the Gothic style speaks to this imperfection. Ruskin would adore the savageness of this defect, as he characterizes savageness as the most essential and important characteristic of the Gothic form (Nature of Gothic). As for the unfinished nature of Gothic architecture, the Chiesa di San Pietro Martire on Murano, a small island in the Venetian Lagoon, has a façade that opposes the perfected beauty of classical architecture and could be argued to be too raw and imperfect for the exterior of a church. However, the unfinished nature only speaks to the importance of savageness in the Gothic style.
The Gothic style bestows power upon the artist, and is a “free” form of architecture that provides for endless possibilities and delights the imagination. Ruskin even compares the imperfection of the Gothic style to the deficiency of the human condition. He says, “Nothing that lives is, or can be, rigidity perfect; part of it is decay, part nascent” (Nature of Gothic). Humanity is victim to the decay and imperfect nature of life much like the Gothic form. Therefore, the Gothic style is inherently human. The perfectly carved and symmetrically aligned architecture of the classical style seems almost divine and too perfect to be associated with men, but rather with heaven. Therefore, we can conclude that the Gothic style bestows power to not only the architect, but also to humanity. It is the architecture of the people. Although one could argue that the verticality and massive ribbed vaulting of Gothic churches can make an individual feel dwarfed in comparison to the divine, I would argue that the verticality only speaks to the power of the architect to create such an incredible feat.

The Biennale

On a brisk yet beautiful Friday morning, my classmates and I ventured to La Biennale di Venezia for a contemporary art experience like I’ve never experienced before. Being an art history minor back at Purdue, I’ve taken many art classes where we’ve studied modern art and focused on the big names such as Picasso, Derain and Kandinsky. However, I have not had many opportunities to view the artwork of modern day contemporary artists, and especially never in the setting like the Biennale. With its beautiful, towering pavilions, the Biennale was somewhere I could have spent all day wandering and exploring every niche. Our guide took us to several exhibitions, including the United States of America national pavilion, where I was struck by the intensity and curiosity of contemporary art.

My favorite exhibition we visited was entitled “The Collectors”, the first ever collaboration of two national pavilions to create a single exhibition. The Danish and Nordic countries introduced us to Family A and Mister B through their barren homes littered with the mysterious remnants of their lives, loose ends dripping with loneliness and sorrow. Two broken homes, one haunted with pride and lust and the other shrouded in a mysterious layer of jaded love and family drama. This exhibition presented art in a new way- it allowed objects to tell the story, to hint to a puzzle that it was up to viewers to piece together. The idea that you can take a house, that alone speaks volumes about the characters that inhabit it by its basic architectural nature, and fill it with objects that are in no way of any artistic importance (books, condoms, a typewriter, a selection of DVD’s, a toilet and sink, pots and pans, a pair of keys thrown carelessly on the table) and it become a form of art is truly fascinating to me and speaks to what contemporary art is in general- thinking outside of the box. I would have never imagined of doing such a thing, and I’m sure many would not understand how it could be art until witnessing it with their own eyes. The entire showpiece is like the stage after a theater performance- the set and objects alone can tell you the idea of the play and the actions that recently occurred there. I saw the houses like a stage, and I found myself wanting to rewind and see the performance. I walked with other visitors into the homes of others while the true inhabitants were nowhere to be found.

Our guide explained to us the meaning behind the exhibition, as I previously mentioned, which was to explore the idea of expressing oneself through objects and investigating how everyday objects seem to speak to us. After viewing the exhibit, I began to think about how objects are the storytellers of our society. As I look around my temporary dorm room here on San Servolo island, I see my pile of DVD’s on my dresser that speak to my personality and tastes. My Italian book sitting on my bed tells of my recent endeavor to learn the Italian language. My stack of stationary with letters to loved ones back home at first glance show my love for family and friends and my value on keeping in touch with those far away. We have all had experiences when we walk into others apartments or houses to be unsurprised with the personality of the place. Typically, one’s home speaks to who they are as an individual. My eclectic friend Kendra lives in a purple paradise sparkling with bold colored polka dots, stuffed giraffes, and funky flowered pillows. My other friend Elyse has always reflected the “classic beauty” vibe and her room is vibrant with light pastels, and impressive art wall and Audrey Hepburn calendar, and a jewelry box full of lockets and brooches to decorate her simple yet elegant cardigans and sweaters.

Walking through the empty rooms of Family A and Mister B, I got to know them without ever meeting them. These exhibits reminded me of why I love contemporary art, that you can take such a simple idea and make such a powerful statement. Sometimes modern art can seem radical, disturbing or sometimes even useless, and void of the classical ideals and extravagant beauty that dominated classical artwork. However, many times if you look deep enough and give it a chance, modern art can surprise you. I saw the house of Mister B, with a man facedown in a pool outside, and thought “What is going on here?” But after going inside and exploring the home of this fictional individual, I came out with a smile and new way of looking at things (no pun intended).

Advertising the present. Overshadowing the past. Concealing the future.

Having been in Venice for one week now, I’ve had some time to soak in the general aura of the city. What has surprised me greatly, beginning with my initial stroll off the vaporetti into the city of Venice, was the massive advertisements that adorn the construction sites throughout the city. The large Guess advertisement, draping proudly in the Piazza San Marco, immediately caught my eye as I emerged from the boat. As I mentioned in my earlier blogs, I incorrectly assumed Venice to be a quiet, simple city as opposed to the bustling of tourists and dramatic grandeur that compose the city. I remain amazed at the modernity that overruns this historical city, which truly does feel like slice of the past with a “Disneyworld-like” atmosphere slapped on top of it. As I continue to view more of these advertisements, I consider the implications of these reminders of modernity in the ancient city of Venice.

The first thing I notice while I look at these advertisements is that they lure the eye from the beauty of the historical buildings that surround it to the ideal forms of beauty of the modern age that take form through the striking models on the ad’s. Beautiful models decorate beautiful buildings in this city- a harsh juxtaposition of the past and present. As we discussed today in lecture, the old and new come together in this city in a jarring and shocking way, like each entity is refusing to adapt to the presence of the other. The advertisements combine with the surrounding scenery, including ancient cathedrals and decaying pieces of the past, to reflect the differences of the past and present and the perception of beauty in each time. In my critical reflection, I considered that the beauty of the past, especially in cities such as Venice, focused mainly on art and architecture, while the beauty of our modern society, as so many magazines and our celebrity culture have demonstrated, is projected through the beauty of the individual. The advertisements depict beautiful models and nothing more- the models are truly selling the product. In a way, the models are like the art of our modern culture.

Another interesting aspect of the implementation of advertisements to cover construction projects in Venice is that, in a way, it seems that the city is ashamed of their progress, allowing advertisers to “cover up” the construction with our contemporary images of beauty. Is Venice, a city that is known to be a truly historical city, a slice of antiquity, ashamed of their progress being that it is supposed to be a place stuck in the past? Does our culture accept these contemporary relics to mask reality and allow us to remain ignorant that even an antique city must advance with the modernity of today? I find myself critiquing our modern culture, in that we expect the impossible out of Venice. Without progress, without keeping up with the times and developing, the city would cease to be. However, we enjoy being naïve and ignorant to this fact, and we accept the advertisements, gaze upon the attractive models, and enjoy the images before our eyes that truly are a foreign form of art for this timeless city.

Venice Realized: Campo dei Miracoli

While wandering through the meandering streets of Venice in search of a campo to use for my first assignment, I considered the characteristics that I wanted in my campo. I was extremely interested in finding a campo that included a church, being that I always find churches and their architectural features fascinating. I also wanted a unique campo that was not like the large bustling campos that I had already seen scattered throughout the city. I was looking for something quiet, serene, and most of all, different. With the wind taking my hand, I let myself drift in search of my ideal campo. I began on the east side of the city and ended up near the Campo Santa Maria Formosa, a campo which I was already quite familiar with after visiting the Felluga-Allen residence earlier in the week. A few calles over, I found a small campo dominated by a beautiful and towering church.

The campo, called Campo dei Miracoli, twists and turns around the church, allowing one to see more than just a single view of the magnificent building. The church takes up most of the campo while the rest of the buildings, which are mostly residential, seem dwarfed in the magnificence of the Renaissance cathedral. The campo itself is unique- spotted with the simplicity of modest Venetian residences juxtaposing the complexity of the elaborate church. After doing some research on the church, I learned that it is called the Santa Maria dei Miracoli and it houses an icon of the Virgin Mary called I Miracoli, or “The Miraculous.” Gazing up at the church, one of the first things I notice is that it is covered with marble, giving the church a shimmering and mesmerizing glow. The church speaks of the Renaissance period, geometrical and orderly, adorned with semicircular arches and pediments, structured pilasters and arcaded windows, and a hemispherical dome. The church as a whole speaks volumes of the Renaissance period and is undeniably beautiful; however looking more closely at the tiny details that all together combine to create this spectacular architectural achievement, I am reminded of how it is truly in the details that the beauty of a piece lies.








Oculus on Santa Maria dei Miracoli












Ionic pilaster complete with volutes on Santa Maria dei Miracoli







Lunette on church with tondo









Ogee arched window (Gothic architectural element) on Venetian residence








Oculus and string course on facade of Santa Maria dei Miracoli facing the main sqaure








Bay and ornamented spandrels between arches on upper storey of church








Blind arcade and arcade windows on upper storey of church on facade facing canal











Aedicule and lintel on Venetian residence doorway







Balustrade on balcony of residence overlooking campo and canal














Composite pilasters on facade of church









Dome and oculus on the Renaissance masterpiece, the Santa Maria dei Miracoli













Corinthian pilaster on church facade opposite of canal












Aedicule with segmental pediment and entablature (frieze, cornice and architrave)










Stringcourses on facade of church









Stilted arched window on residence opposite canal













Rio, or Venetian canal, aside the Campo dei Miracoli





In a city such as Venice, where one’s senses are easily over-indulged by the beautiful melting of city and water, pastel colors glinting off of Venetian residences, and lofty masterpieces such as the Basilica di San Marco, it is easy to soak in the excess without spending time worrying about the minute details that compose the beauty around you. However, experiencing the city in details allows one to deeper appreciate and further understand the history and language of the city. For example, the language of the Santa Maria dei Miracoli speaks to the religiosity of the Italian people, and the faith and beliefs of Catholicism as a whole. Through my study of the architectural features of the church, I now better understand the characteristics of Venetian Renaissance architecture and the religious beliefs of the Catholic faith through the symbolic architectural elements that decorate the church. As a reference, it is simple to see the tondi decorating the pediments of the church; however one must look more carefully to appreciate the beauty carved into the stringcourses on the façade. The Venetian residences that complete this campo are typically Venetian at first glance- with their flowerboxes decorating their quaint balconies and colorful pastel shades; however after further inspection, I discovered the Gothic ogee arched windows hidden between the predominately geometric rectangular and squared ones.

After completing this assignment, I long to experience all of Venice in this detailed-centered way, and I am excited for the opportunity to indulge this luxury throughout the upcoming months.

First Impressions

Arriving in Venice, I was overwhelmed by the massive quantities of people crowding the tiny streets of this ancient city. I imagined Venice as a quiet place, but so far it seems to be a lively, bustling city full sound. Venice also seems to be a mysterious place, with overcrowded alleys leading into silent and completely deserted streets. The city is slightly like a Disneyworld and a museum all rolled into one. The beauty of the architecture is undeniable and it is still possible to feel the history permeating out of the city, however the numerous shops selling masks, gelato and Venice tee shirts and key chains remind me of a theme park, where you can simply buy a piece of merchandise with the logo stamped on it and feel like you’ve walked away with a piece of the place. However, I know that after months of living in this city, I will take more away from it than the souvenirs collected. I will understand the city behind the tourism and the true nature of the city.

It still feels weird not to see or hear any cars, and I absolutely love using boats to get everywhere. I’ve always enjoyed being on the water, and using it (along with my feet) as my main modes of transportation should be a new and exciting experience. The city is the perfect one for walking, with your feet leading you to discover a new and unfamilar street one after another. Exploring the city with the rest of my classmates today, I loved stumbling upon new alleys and discovering the inner depths of the city. There seems to be so much to see in Venice, and I am excited about (hopefully) knowing the city fairly well by the time I leave in December. After being in Venice for a day, I have gotten a superficial look at the city and I am excited to dive in and discover what the city is all about.

Venice Imagined

My whole life I’ve dreamt of travel. Now, as a senior year in college who has never traveled outside the American borders, the opportunity has come for me to fulfill my lifelong aspiration. Preparing for my excursion to the enchanting city of Venice, I am so thankful that I have the chance to travel while I am young. With the world as my oyster, I am ready to set off and engulf as much as it as I possibly can. I am excited to soak in the Italian culture and investigate both the sun and shadows of mystical Venice.

Having grown up with an Italian best friend, I already have many ideas engrained in me of what the Italian culture is like. The intense religiosity of the people, the deep ties to family, and appreciation for food, music and beauty in the simple things are only several of my perceptions of the Italian culture. Venice, on the other hand, is a foreign land that I have a hazy perception of. I currently picture Venice as a city of historical splendor and domestic simplicity that together form a lifestyle that mixes the old and new, complex and simple, and myth and science. I am eager to stroll the winding streets of the city, shop at the bustling markets and quaint shops, and watch the sunset while winding down the day at a Venetian café. This magical place that I am about to call my home is one that seems so drastically different than the home I know now, and I am ready to embrace the change and learn about another way of life. I hope to come out of this experience a changed individual, whose eyes have been opened to other cultures and with many memorable experiences, excellent photographs, and great stories to tell my friends and family when I return home.