16 November, Monday.
Even Rome has its bland days. Today was such a day, nothing more than merely Evil Philosophers, the frantic writing of an Ancient Rome paper left too long, and a harrowing night spent in the bowels of the JCU basement with Thuy and a glaring architecture-studio style light. I won’t curdle your brain with the rest.
17 November, Tuesday.
One out of three classes? Yes please. Brit lit and Italian were both occupied by paper writing, leaving Mystics as my one haven of intellectual advancement for the day. At night was our first cross-cultural JCU event, Indonesian night! I, along with Hugh, Marcelo, Roberto, Thuy, Katie, and Genie, I think, walked with the degree-seekers to an elegant Indonesian restaurant where the tables were set into plateau-like steps of carpet with low, cushioned seats in large strips around them. The music was trippy electronic stuff that added to the haze of our half-starved states, helped along a little by Katie and Thuy snagging a bag of chips from the cart behind us. After a painful wait, we were released like famished lions onto the delicious buffet assortment of spicy rice and chicken and shrimp dishes in savory sauces, which were scarfed down in shamefully short time. After that, we proceeded to obliterate the raffle, collecting between us a couple of candle holders, free drink coupons, and the prize of the night, an eight-euro bottle of maple syrup with equally pricey pancake mix. Score.
