FIRST IMPRESSIONS

I am now in Venice and have been in Venice for the past three days. After taking a two-week driving-but-mostly-walking tour of a few popular, touristic cities north of Italy, I arrived on Thursday with my parents and stayed in a hotel near the Rialto bridge until last night, when I moved into my very “European” San Servolo dorm room that offers a gorgeous view of the shimmering Laguna Veneta. I have done a lot of walking here, thanks to Daddy’s insistence upon finding good restaurants and exploring by Blackberry, but understanding what I have seen is not equivalent to describing the sights, smells, and sounds that I have experienced since my initial ascension and descent over a Venetian bridge Thursday afternoon. Because I have been to Venice before, many of my impressions consist of comparisons between what I am experiencing in Venice now and what I saw when I was here ten years back. This is the same; this has changed; I do not remember this, but I like it, or I don’t; comparisons that give me a vague idea of the pace of change and the type of change occurring here from the tourist’s prospective. My observations as a returning visitor are not completely accurate, but they have lead the way to more dramatic impressions by not only allowing me to think twice about my original perceptions about this maze of alleyways and campi, but also by forcing some of my focus away from my awe over Venice’s unique structure and alternative lifestyle. In a big way, the changes and similarities I notice have led me to contemplate social structure, global patterns, and how little I really understand these issues.

In a little more detail, my first impressions of Venice have been stimulating and very pleasing. In countless ways, Venice is the same as I remember. Firstly, it is different from America, a characteristic I have missed since leaving my life in France in 2000; I find changes in setting comforting simply because I have adopted travel and adaptation as my second home. With relation to Venice, I have been very glad to return to its unique qualities. I love the absence of cars, which gives pedestrians a liberty unknown in modern cities where people constantly pause, wait, stand while traffic flows. In Venice there are no interruptions; people own the streets. Oddly, this aspect is a novelty in our modern world, despite its age. Have we learned nothing from this city? Old buildings of color and beauty also bring back memories, although I had forgotten the plethora of churches sprinkled throughout. Crowds of people, bridges, the lap of water and ripple of wakes, the gold and mosaics, dirt and cigarette butts, glass and music, food and plenty of places to get lost for a while; it is all here. I also remember the purse sellers using white cloths laid across the stones to display forgeries, and the sights of beggars and seemingly, but probably not, stray animals strike me as familiar.

In the past everything about Venice had been a show, something to see and to leave behind; but even though I have seen many of the same things here so far, I now see the world in what exists here. Venice has hit me as a microcosm of life that, in its uniqueness, probably exaggerates some basic occurrences throughout the world. The changes I have noticed since my last visits exemplify this. For instance, graffiti is now a common sight, filled with English words and political opinion, art and thought. It seems to add a new layer to Venice’s library of history and creativity, although I do not agree with its abundance and its destruction of and lack of respect for beauty and the architectural markers of the past. I think it is simply another type of social indicator that is kin to those seen throughout Venice’s long history. Like Napoleon closed in Saint Marc’s Square, those responsible for Venice’s graffiti are changing the look of this city.

Another change includes a new Asian population, at least I never noticed it before. Eating spaghetti for a cheap price on Friday, I observed an effect of a new population into this small community. The pasta had a watery flavor, cooked by immigrant Italians who were still learning the language with help from the workers at the restaurant across the campo, but moreover my meal came from one of many Italian restaurants run by Asians. I like Asians, just to clarify my position, but in noticing this occurrence, I worried about the preservation of Italy’s distinct cultures. Immigrants have always come to Venice, I believe (just look at the Arab style windows seen in probably every campo), yet I struggle with new change and reflect on what this example says about our modern societies. What will happen as this “foreign” population grows? Will Venice survive or will immigrants take on the way of life and make it their own? How can immigrants preserve Venice if they do not hold the history and customs to heart? But, I have to remember that this has happened many times before, and that it only made Venice more interesting and beautiful.

My initial feelings about Venice have been that although Venice is a lively city, less “quaint” than I had anticipated but still restricted by its antiquated environment, it is controlled in part by the outside world which forces it to change or to remain the same in various ways. It is a useful microcosm of social and practical life that should be studied to better understand our larger, more global communities. Because of this, the very presence or absence of change has made the biggest impression on me so far, but I also see that Venice is a permanent home to many people who see it as the foundation of their life structure, and that it offers lifestyle I would love to try out. Not only am I impressed by the art, the history, and the structure, the people are full of expressive culture, they are more animated than Americans and more expressive. Social bonds seem to come before many priorities, an aspect I admire. I have noticed as well that the senses are put to a test in Venice. Walking the busy streets requires a good sense of touch, place, and social conduct, the air is full of smells good and not so good, and the sounds and sights are rapid and intense. The only sense not tested is taste. Venice is full of variety and quality when it comes to food, and from what I can tell anyone can eat well in Venice, because anything ordered is superb… well, besides the watery spaghetti (that makes me think twice).

But anyway, I like Venice, I am happy to be here, and most of all I am glad that I am getting to see it and understand it before it changes too much and becomes something totally different, if that ever happens. I have goals in mind now. I want to enjoy the atmosphere, take a lot of pictures, and find out the reasons for and implications of the changes I see here. I have to admit, I cannot believe this is schoolwork; the credits I earn for this course seem like an added bonus to a long, exciting, and incredibly interesting vacation. Don’t be jealous; living out of a suitcase for three months, having to wait an hour to travel two miles back to my dorm room by vaporetto, and having to drink wine out of cheap little juice boxes is not easy. I am just trying to get away from West Lafayette snow, and this was my only option.

VENICE IMAGINED

What will it be like to see up close the history of a thousand years packed onto 118 small islands? I know what these islands look like from the outside, having been there, but this eleven week trip to Italy will show me what is inside the beautiful, mystical character of Venice, the so called "City of Light." During my past visits to Venice, which occurred nearly a decade ago to tell you the truth, I witnessed the famous maneuvering of the canals, tasted four-scoop gelatos while strolling the Rialto Bridge, spoke to a friendly glass blower on the island of Murano, and listened to a Saint Marc's Square quartet for hours. The architecture could not escape me either, not with parents to point it out that is. I enjoyed the usual European architectural flourishes that America rarely produces with a respectful yet almost jealous eye, not to mention reveled the structures that were so old they stood crooked or broken. The people were also a large part of my interest in Venice. People were friendly, mysterious in their cultural jargon, and by far luckier than I was to live in heaven. Things always look good to tourists; it is their vacation after all.

Ten years ago I saw Venice as a perfectly modern world that had been blessed with famous historical relics and the graceful touch of age and distinction; looking back, I realize that my impression of Venice has been transformed, possibly by media, or maybe even by my own memories repeating themselves too often and becoming littered with new, imposing knowledge about history and life. To the current me, Venice is quaint. As a lifestyle it is trapped by the historical and economic value of unconquerable hindrances, and forced to accept a worldwide pressure to display itself due to the very things that bring it charm and a sense of culture to its inhabitances. On the up side, life in a city somewhat apart from the modern, western world provides peace that is always present and full of passion; it is a peace reliant upon the kindness of both natural and economic tides, though, and I have no idea yet what that may mean. I imagine that my walks through Venice this semester will reveal a city happy in its pace of life but full of shadows of past and current conflict. I see the touristic shops full of delicate, brightly colored glass that, for all I am aware, accurately portray the inner spirit of Venice; which I hope is true because the idea at least is beautiful. When learning about Venice's past and present, I will travel across the water to find clues of the truth and will do my best at learning to read it. On the streets and on the water I will observe the mix of tourists and natives, discovering how each sees the other and where they are wrong and right. I will slowly fall into an intermediate catagory that understands the mindsets of both, and in this position I will be able to acheive a broader view, though inheritently inaccurate in detail, that will encompass all major aspects of Venice. The antiquated Venetian lifestyle, I think, will come to mean the preservance of our past, a beautiful example, but at the same time I will see that its slow decay can enlighten us to the mesh our world is becoming on the cultural front. My time abroad will also highlight the value we should place on preserving our individual cultures and offering respect to those of others. These ideas may be an overlying goal for my trip abroad, but as I traverse Venice and its history, I will keep these thoughts in mind to see them validated or changed. My focuses will be diverse, though, and any attempt to sum them up in a main theme will probably fail.

So, what will I see when I look back into the City of Light? I will no longer see a touristic utopia, that I know, because what I see will be better. A very real city that offers the the world a vivacity not created by an overactive imagination but by our own past and by the imaginations of the millions of people who have lived in and visited it. In Venice the imagination has become tangible through the work of a thousand years and, more importantly now, the work of the Venetians who make that image home. I will see that the Venetian idea is real, and that perhaps the idea of Venice serves merely as a reminder that our ideas and our steadfast belief in them are what make up our realities. This is what I hope to find, because this seems like the best scenario. Will it be better? Will it be worse? It won't be long until I look into the shadows and find out.