Pirates of the Ventotene

The Internet in my apartment has ceased to function. Considering the efficiency of Italian maintenance, this will probably not be remedied until November. Therefore, I am writing this from the lovely computer lab at JCU, adjacent to the Lemonless Tree Courtyard. I'm at a computer next to a girl named Sunshine. I'm not kidding. Her name is Sunshine and she's sitting right next to me. I don't actually know her, so I really hope she doesn't look over at my computer screen. In fact, I just tilted the computer screen away because this could get real awkward. I know that her name is Sunshine because she's in my on-site art history class and one time, the professor said, "Sunshine, get off your cell phone. There are gypsies about!" Speaking of names, let me just say one more thing about JCU students (the American kind). Most of the professors are Italian, therefore, their pronunciation of American words and names is not the best. This should be acceptable, but for some, this just will not do. Maybe it's easier for me to accept a mispronunciation of my name because I've been called Elsie/Elisa/Alice/Alisha/Eliss my whole life and here my name is pronounced L-eeeeeze, which I actually kind of like. However, one student in my international marketing class does not appreciate the mistaken pronunciation of her name and she makes a point of this at every class roll call. Her name is Annie Lou, which is stupid to begin with and she should be happy that someone would call her something else, but the professor pronounces it "Anyelloo" and she corrects him EVERY TIME. It's gotten to the point where the whole class chimes in with the correct pronunciation of her name during roll call. Anyelloo really needs to just give it up.
Enough JCU and name bashing for now.
Last weekend I went to Ventotene, a small (really really small) island off of Italy in the Mediterranean. It is absolutely gorgeous, with all pink and yellow buildings and clear blue water. However, it is incredibly small and very non-touristy, which made for a nice escape from the city and a harsh reminder of my dwindling Italian speaking skills (since my stay was only for 2 days and one night, I managed to not die from lack of communication with the locals). The trip was through JCU so it was led by a student. This student, let us call him Joe (because that's his name), was Portuguese and did not have perfect English, which made for an interesting conversation with him. Allow me to give you some tidbits from our talk.
(Joe sits next to my friends and me to discuss the trip schedule)
Joe: It is hot!
Me: You could take your jacket off
Joe: Then I would be cold
Me: Well, I have no more solutions for you
Joe: What about my jacket?
Me: It's up to you whether or not you want to leave it on or off. You said you were hot
Joe: (stares blankly) What are we talking about?
(some moments into the conversation)
Joe: (looking over at Teresa and Amy, who are sleeping) Are your friends drunk?
Me: (sarcastically) Yeah, they are smashed
Joe: (seriously) Oh, well, that will happen
(Joe explains the meal option, which involves lots of seafood. I decline and he asks why)
Me: I don't like seafood.
Joe: How come? It is delicious
Me: I don't like things that swim
Joe: It wouldn't be swimming. It will be dead.
Me: I know, but it used to swim
Joe: Do you like to swim?
Me: Yes
Joe: Do you like yourself?
Me: Yes
Joe: Well then you should like seafood (this is the best logic ever)
Me: I don't want to eat myself
Joe: Just eat the seafood. But be careful when you swim
Me: I'm not eating the seafood. And why should I be careful?
Joe: Because there are sharks
Me: No there aren't
Joe: Ok, but there's a monster of Ventotene.
Me: Really? What's it called
Joe: It's called the Joe-fish. It is vicious.
(more awkward conversation and time passes)
Joe: We are renting boats today. Do you know how to drive a boat?
Me: No
Joe: You should. Just don't play the pirates (note unnecessary use of the word "the")
Me: How do you play pirates?
Joe: Well, last year, some drunk guys took a boat out and got hungry, so they ran their boat into Italian yachts, hopped on screaming, stole their food, and left.
Me: Well hopefully there will be no pirates this time
Joe: Yes, if you don't play the pirates.
(Joe asks me some more questions and I respond to many of them with "I'm not sure")
Joe: Do you smoke the marijuana? (again, unnecessary "the")
Me: What? No! No! Why would you ask that?
Joe: You sound like you do. You keep saying you aren't sure.
Me: Is uncertainty a quality of pot heads?
Joe: (long pause) What are we talking about? (I think Joe smokes the marijuana)
(Joe finds out that Teresa is half Chinese and wakes her up)
Joe: Is it true that it is good to burp in China
Teresa: Yes, it can be good.
Joe: I'm going to go to a Chinese restaurant and when the waiter says, "How is your meal?" I will say "BLAAEEEERRRRCHHH" and he will say "Thank you!"

This went on for a while, especially considering he only wanted to ask us one question about the meal plan for the trip.
We finally get to the island, get settled into our apartment (which has a shower with no basin or walls. It's just toilet, bidet, shower head.), and go to rent some boats. I got on a boat with Teresa, Emma, and Amy and none of us had ever driven a boat. We ask for snorkeling equipment and a guy with a ponytail and no shirt throws us one mask for the four of us. A Ventotene native named Chiro (he says, "Like the pizza from Napoli!" for some reason I give an enthusiastic "Oh yeah!" as if I have ever heard of that pizza before) drives us in the boat out of the docking area, gets on a boat of his own, and says goodbye. We wave "ciao" to him and Teresa revs up the engine and runs straight into Chiro's boat. Eventually, we make it farther out into the ocean and have a lovely day of boating around the island, which takes about an hour to drive around. Our lovely day does have some interruptions, however. We find a lovely spot to swim and test out our single diving mask, so we turn off the motor and jump off the boat. The water is super salty, so its really easy to float in (Emma claims it is impossible to drown in. We did not test this theory). I didn't see any fish (not even a Joe fish) but the water was pretty enough to look at. We got back on the boat and tried to start the engine. No dice. We try about 50 billion more times and still, nothing. Fortunately, we have oars. Unfortunately, we are on the other side of the island from the dock and the water is very choppy. We thought all was lost until some Italian guys in speedos spotted our flailing oars and pulled over next to us. We tried to explain our situation in Italian and when the Italian guys could no longer take the butchering of their language, one said "I speak English." We rejoiced. However, he could not even start our engine. This was good in that we no longer felt stupid, but it was bad in that we were stuck in the middle of the ocean. Finally, English-speaking speedo man got the engine started and we were off. The situation got awkward though when he said "We'll see you later tonight, right?" and they went off in the same direction we had been heading and we continued on our course, so it looked like we were following them. Eventually, they split off to go somewhere else and invited us along. Our orientation week full of creepy Italian men stories taught us never to accept any invitation, so we said "No, we have to be back by 6:00." Good thing it was 3:30 and it would have taken us 30 minutes to get back to the dock.
We took the boat a little farther out than before and were driving around another island when the coast guard pulled up next to us, honked his horn, yelled at us in Italian, and pointed us back to the docks. Thought of Italian prisons and excommunication ran through our heads and we kept practicing the necessary phrases we would need to know in Italian, like "We didn't know!", "Take me to the embassy!", "We have some extra sandwiches. Would you like them?" and "We are stupid Americans!" Fortunately, the coast guard went to chase after someone else and we headed back for land.
When we did finally bring the boat back in the dock, we turned the engine off too soon and couldn't get it started again, leaving us stranded about 5 feet from where we needed to be to tie the boat off. Chiro had to come out and help us. Best of all, the guys who helped us earlier were on the dock watching this happen. When we got off, they said, "Glad to see you back on the island!" I guess their earlier question of seeing us later was not a social matter, but more of a looking-out-for-us thing. We've been jaded into being skeptical of every word that comes out of an Italian man's mouth.
Teresa asked for her ID back from the ponytailed guy who owned the boats (she had to give her ID to him before getting on). The dude told her he had given it to one of his friends, and he would give it back in 10 minutes. We waited 10 minutes and no ID. We asked him again and Chiro ran over saying in rapid Italian "It's at my house! Just a 10 minute motorino ride away! I'll get it! Just 10 minutes!" Everything happens in 10 minutes intervals on Ventotene. Teresa did get her ID back, but we have no idea why Chiro had it at his house. Her ID photo will probably surface on the Internet within the next month.
That night on the island, there were a few live bands performing in the town center. Our apartment was right on the center square and we had a balcony that overlooked it, so we had pretty sweet seats for watching the performance. The accordion band, complete with bass guitar, drum set, tambourines, and vocalist was especially awesome. The African drum band would have been cool had I not been trying to sleep when they were playing.
The second day of Ventotene was spent touring the Alcatraz of Italy and lying on the beach. The prison was on a small island about a 10 minute boat ride away from Ventotene. The walk up to the prison was a steep incline and I thought our hobit-esque tour guide was going to die, then I thought I was going to die when he gave the rest of the tour with his shirt off. Anyway, the prison was really cool to see and was a blend of really beautiful and really creepy.
We got to spend about an hour on the beach after the tour. The sand was really dark and the water was clear blue, which made up for all the unnecessary European nudity. Teresa, Emma, and I swam out to a nearby rock, climbed up, and jumped off. It was the most thrilling thing of the weekend! Since the water was super salty, it shot you right back up as soon as you fell in.
On the boat ride back to Italy mainland, there were oodles of children running around unattended, which was actually a trend in Ventotene as well. I do not like children so much, but a rather drunk man on the boat did. He was super creepy and kept trying to grab kids who ran past him. Fortunately, the boat ride was the short part (1 and half hours) of the travel home. The bus was the long part, but we got to watch the Italian Job, so yay. Then, after the 4 hour bus ride came the one hour walk back home. Needless to say, it was nice to be back in the apartments.
This weekend, I'm headed for Assisi for a religious retreat sponsored by Notre Dame. But now, I must go to class and hear Annie Lou correct the professor AGAIN.