Ramil Blog

After much wheeling and dealing, my friend Joe managed to get enough cheap tickets for a big group of us to go see a charity event hosted by Ira Glass. In case you're wondering who Ira Glass is, he is the host of the fine radio show, This American Life on NPR. What's the show about? Anything and everything. That is, each week, they pick a theme, and present 3 or 4 stories about that theme. I love This American Life, and I think anyone who gives it a chance would love it too, so check it out!

I was first introduced to the program this summer as an assignment for my Intro to Sociology class. At first, I was like, "Who listens to talk radio anymore. This isn't the 50's!" But then, slowly but surely, I became addicted. The 60-minute show fit perfectly into my morning commute, the stories were always different and interesting, and Ira Glass is hilarious and real. If that wasn't enough to convince you about how cool This American Life is, I implore you to go give it a try. Oh yeah, it's going to be a TV show, too.

Anyway, so the event was held at Town Hall, and it mainly focused on Ira Glass's new book "The New Kings of Non-Fiction." Mr. Glass was accompanied by some of the book's contributors: Chuck Klosterman, Susan Orlean, and Malcolm Gladwell. Since none of them could sing or play instruments, they had a short discussion facilitated by Ira Glass.

It was cool because, instead of asking them questions that they had to answer on the spot, he gave each of the 3 "Kings" a couple of assignments to complete beforehand as preparation for the discussion. The assignments varied from selecting pieces of writing to be read aloud, to making profiles for each other. Their responses to the assignments were very thoughtful, and spoke to many of the most relevant issues journalism, but what I found most interesting was how exactly and uniquely each writer on stage matched their writing. When I think of writers, I always think of the movie Misery, minus Kathy Bates. I picture James Caan toiling away at the type writer, alone in the countryside, writing down 4 words at a time, then crossing them out, then altering the sentence slightly, still unsatisfied. (For another example, see Secret Window.) But hearing Chuck Klosterman, Susan Orlean and Malcolm Gladwell read their published writing, and listening to them answer questions made me realize that my notion of the writer in the woods was kind of out dated and dumb. Writing for them is finding something cool, capturing the idea, and getting it across in your own voice. And I think that's just gosh-darn cool!

So yesterday, psychologist and genius Howard Garnder came to speak at Skirball. He spoke as the inaugural Jacob K. Javits lecturer, and is a Visiting Professor at NYU. Howard Gardner is best known as the architect of the theory of multiple intelligences, the director of Project Zero, Harvard University, and one of the most influential names in education reform.

His lecture was titled "From Multiple Intelligences to Future Minds," and in it, he tried to link his classic theory of multiple intelligences, "MI" theory, to his most recent research concerning the five minds and good work. If you're unfamiliar with Gardner's work, these titles seem kind of strange and abstract, but it makes a lot of sense if you hear him out.

So, before Gardner's MI theory, everyone thought that there was only one intelligence, general intelligence, or "G." There was a consensus that if you were good a piano, or good at math, etc., it was because you were a generally smart person. All your talents stemmed from this one "smartness", and all these skills were connected to one intelligence. Gardner's MI theory essentially debunked these ideas, and suggested that the pianist is good at piano not because he is generally intelligent, but because he is musically intelligent. The mathematician is good at math because he is logically intelligent. Gardner originally outlined 8 different intelligences that pretty much cover the gamut.

Makes sense, right? Doesn't is seem like it's almost common sense? Well, thats because Gardner's work is almost 40 years old. At the time, it was a completely radical theory, and Gardner made everyone in the fields of psychology, neurology and education take a serious look at his research. By studying adults with brain damage, autistics, and savants, Gardner was able to prove that intelligence is not just "G," but that it is multi-faceted, with the different aspects of intelligence working relatively independently of each other.

His lecture basically outlined MI theory and introduced the newer ideas of the five minds and good work. I really enjoyed the lecture, and I was shocked at how down-to-earth and funny he was. Here's this man - this certified genius - who has changed the way the world thinks about being smart, and he's talking to this crowd like he sees us everyday.

I'm sorry for making such a long, maybe even boring, post (I know some of you out there hate them!), but I just thought the whole thing was really cool. And now you know all about Howard Gardner and MI.

Now that 2008 is finally here, it has come time to choose a New Year's resolution. I never know what I should do for a resolution, and this year is no different. I have so many things that I think I want to do, and my indecisiveness makes it hard to pick just one. It would be really cool if I could learn a new musical instrument, or start careers in professional whistling and stand-up comedy, but there's no way all of those are getting done. And, as the YouTube philologist, hotforwords reminds us, the key to accomplishing your New Year's resolution is to pick one thing and split it up into small manageable parts.

So, that leaves me with the task of sorting through my resolutions and picking just one. However, most people who only have one resolution never make it past February. So, maybe the answer resolution success is to just pick something really easy, like cutting my toe nails more often.

But that one is ridiculous. Maybe I can make is sound more lofty by incorporating my future travel plans to Peru and Europe. I think I've got a good one.

My New Year's resolution is to travel 10 new countries. Now, this may sound like a lot, but I already have plans to visit Peru and 6 European nations. So, now I just have to snag 3 more, which will probably be easy to do during my semester abroad in Florence. Perfect! It sounds ambitious, but it's actually very attainable. And I'll easily be able to split it up into smaller, more manageable parts. And as a bonus, I'll make my Facebook Where I've Been map look flippin' sweet.

So, on Sunday, I went to the final production of Madama Butterfly at Teatro del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino. I had never seen Madame Butterfly, and I thought it was great. The orchestra was amazing, the acting was good, and the ending was so tragic! It was also a big help that there were subtitles to go along with the show. Although everything in Italian, I was able to fumble through with some degree of understanding.

I also realized that, since most operas are in Italian, all Italian people can easily understand them. It's like going to the movies for them. In America, opera is so inaccessible, and it's always associated with high culture and grandeur. But I think that if we could understand the words being sung, then we probably wouldn't think that way. I think that if Puccini wrote Madame Butterfly in English, then it would be as popular as High School Musical... No, I take that back. Nothing will ever be as popular as High School Musical. But now that I can navigate my way through some Italian, I have a new appreciation for opera.

With the help of my Italian class, and also with the help of TV, the need to eat food, and opera, I'm slowly learning Italian. But I still have trouble communicating with English-speaking Italians, particularly my teachers. All of the Italian faculty at NYU in Florence is very distinguished and knowledgeable, but sometimes it's just hard for them to get their point across to us. And it's even harder for them to answer our fast, American questions. My flute teacher knows English, but he prefers not to speak it because he thinks it is an ugly language. So, he has his wife sit in on the lesson to translate. It's kind of weird having this woman who probably can't play the flute tell me what I'm doing wrong, but I guess I'll just have to get used to it.

Since the Super Bowl is today, I went to Florence's big calcio, or football, or soccer, game. I just got back home, and I'm still getting the feeling back in my fingers since it was so cold tonight. The game was between Fiorentina (Florence) and A. C. Milan. Both of the teams were really good, and quite evenly matched, which unfortunately made for an unexciting game. Most of the game was scoreless, and Fiorentina ended up losing in the end.

Even though we lost and I was cold, I'm still really glad I went. It was my first professional football game, and it was cool to watch it with 50,000 other people. All of the fans seemed really excited, and they were chanting across the stadium. I learned that, in Italy, whistling is like booing, and booing is like cheering. I also learned many, many Italian curses. Most of the curses were directed at the opposing team and their fans, who were kept in a small, caged section of the stadium and protected by a barrier of security guards.

Another thing that I learned is that it's extremely difficult to film a football game. It's so hard to follow the ball around the field, especially when they kick it very far or when the ball goes airborne. I tried my best, and I made this video of the football game:

As I am becoming more and more immersed in Italian living, I decided to dive deeper into the culture through food. I took the cooking class through NYU, and it was held on campus in Villa Sassetti. The instructor was the owner of a local restaurant, although if you asked her about it, she wouldn't call it a 'ristorante,' but a 'club' -- which is a sort of private restaurant. Italians have many types of eateries.

Anyway, in the cooking lesson, we made homemade pesto and tiramisu. I already knew how to make both of these things, but it was cool to learn how to make these popular Italian dishes authentically and from an real live Italian chef. She seemed to really know her way around both dishes, and was very versatile in the kitchen. She let us help at every step (and taste every step), and she gave us the recipes to take home.

It was a cool lesson, and we got to eat everything that we made. For the next lesson, we're making pasta! Everyone says it's really easy, but I've never done it before, so it should be fun. A presto!

Easter, or Pasqua, is one of the biggest holidays in Florence, and this year, Easter just so happened to fall on another very important holiday: my birthday. Actually, I don't like birthdays, so I was very happy that I could hide in the shadow of Pasqua for the day.

Florentines are mostly Catholic, so the Pasqua holiday is a big deal. The days that lead up to Pasqua felt almost like Christmas because of all the decorations and sales. In every shop window, you can read 'Auguri di Bouna Pasqua!' And in every supermarket, they have 'uova di Pasqua.' It means Easter egg, but it's not what you think it is. It's not a chicken egg, but a big chocolate egg with a toy inside. It's like their version of a chocolate Easter bunny. Also, there are no Peeps.

So, to celebrate Pasqua and my birthday, we went to see the Scoppio del Carro, or 'the explosion of the cart.' It seemed like a strange tradition to me at first, because I don't usually associate ecclesiastical holidays with explosions, but it looks really cool, so it doesn't matter why. I think it has something to do with the tongues of fire that surrounded the apostles on Pentecost, but that seems a bit of a stretch.

Anyway, it seemed like the entire city came out to see the Scoppio del Carro, and it was a good thing we got there when we did because it got very crowded very quickly. I wasn't sure how an Italian pyrotechnical show was going to hold up American fireworks standards, but I was pleasantly surprised. See for yourself:

Well, it wasn't really an orchestra, but the program called it a "piccolo orchestra." It was more like a large string quartet. But at any rate, tonight, I went to the inaugural concert for the Florence International Music Festival. I found out about it through my friends, Morgan and Cassie, whose host father happens to be the director of a music school and is very involved in the classical music scene in the city.

It was a great concert, and they played two Mozart sonatas, one of which was Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, and a Mendelssohn sonata. The musicians were excellent, and the hall sounded amazing. The concert was held in the Palazzo Vecchio, and the concert hall was covered with paintings and sculptures - and it also had great acoustics. The Renaissance art and the classical music made me feel like I traveled back in time, especially because I listen to so much modern music these days.

Tonight's concert made me appreciate Florentine culture a little bit more. After living here for three months, and being bombarded left and right by Renaissance art, I had just about had enough of all of this old art. Despite the obvious beauty of Florence's art, you can only look at so many Madonna with Child's before getting a little sick of it. But tonight in the concert hall, surrounded by these historic sculptures and such fine playing of old pieces, I think I can see why this town wants to hold onto this seemingly prehistoric culture so bad. It's obviously outdated and not fresh, but there's something hypnotic about music and art that is so organized, so true to form - especially at a time when contemporary art is so confusing.

Another good thing about the concert was that it was free. The city of Florence actually funds these types of events. Sure, it comes out of tax-payer dollars, but that just goes to show you that these people are willing to support the arts that they love. Maybe if we did the same thing in America, we would have more people involved in music and art. That's just my two cents.

During this past semester, I have been involved in a bunch of community service with Vivere il Volontariato at NYU in Florence. In addition to teaching English at a school, my roommates and I have been raising money and awareness for Dynamo Camp (pronounced DEE-nah-moh). "Dynamo Camp is the first summer camp in Italy to be structured specifically for children with serious or chronic illnesses who are currently in therapy or in post-hospitalization convalescence." Dynamo Camp, a Hole in the Wall Camp, is a Paul Newman initiative, and he started it here because, while we have organizations like Make-A-Wish in America, Italy offers no camp-like programs for seriously and terminally ill children.

So, to get people donating to and talking about Dynamo Camp, we did two things: 1) We had bake sales and 2) we held a talent show. Both of the things worked really well, and I think we accomplished our goals. We raised quite a bit of money, and everyone on campus now knows about Dynamo Camp.

In the end, everything turned out amazing, but for a time, things weren't so great. Most of us in Vivere il Volontariato had little experience with fund raisers, and even less with event planning. It was really hard to make the bake sales profitable, especially with a couple different factors working against our favor. And we really thought that the Talent Show was going to turn into a flop. The lowest point was definitely the week before the show, and maybe three people had bought tickets to the show. After working for months deciding on logistics, organizing talent, and having meetings, it looked like all of our hard work would be for nothing.

We knew that we had to change something if we wanted to sell more tickets. So, instead of having bake sales, we began to give away free baked goods. Now it sounds ridiculous, and with the sign

"Free Cookies** (**'Free Cookie' offer only eligible for Talent Show ticket holders)"