The last verse of Elon’s volleyball poem

You may have read Ana’s popular little verse, which was posted earlier here.  With suitcases packed, Ana and Cali have composed the final lines.  They are below, not quite the stuff of a serious poetry-writing course, but fun and evocative as a chance to capture and digest the group’s experiences.

Here they are, along with this word from the traveling professor to hope that our efforts to write and reflect on this journey have been useful.  Memories fade; words offer our deeper impressions and thoughts.  And they can last longer.  That’s why we can read Dante and know the life of Michelangelo.  Their ideas became words.  May yours always appear so.  This blog, at the very least, will remain in its cyber-status here, chiseled lightly on a marble wall, for as long as WordPress and public opinion allow.

*   *    *    *    *

Our bus is making strange noises as Milan draws near
But have no fear because Antonio is here.
Stepped outside to check that tire.
His braveness is something that would inspire.
Back on the road, safe in our shuttle
Antonio comes in clutch as we dodge that scuttle.
Drawing nearer to Milan, fashion capital of the world
A questionable place to bring nine young girls.
Mom and Dad, we are sorry for the money we are about to spend,
But at least we will be looking good as our journey comes to an end.

Ana Nicksic & Cali Estes

Last day’s march: In the shadow of history

A tour of Milan’s historic sites, such as its splendid, Gothic-style cathedral, preceded the final match. Double-click and examine closely; a saint balances on every spire. Photo: Mary Tendler.

By Glenn Scott

The last full day of the Elon volleyball team’s journey in Italy brought more to learn. 

First came a walking tour of Milan, with its history that began prior to the Romans and interesting elements from just about every century.  Humbling might be a worthy term. Or impressive. 

Our guide walked us through narrow streets, thankfully far away from the crowds of tourists and holiday shoppers, to little-noticed doors from medieval times and stone walls from earlier than that. The dramatic look and circular look-out towers of the castle reminded us that, even though Northern Italy fostered some of the most advanced civilizations, soldiers from competing regions still went on the attack.  The human notes of the Renaissance did not preclude leaders from marching off to war.

To what extent, professors might ask, was the great art and architecture of these eras linked to power and the capacity to accumulate wealth?

At the arena

There was no missing the name of this nice arena. Yamamay is the name of a corporate sponsor.

Later, after a few big thoughts, the team rolled by bus to a suburb of Milan to play its final match against club team Regalati di Sorriso in a splendid dome itself, this one a fine bit of modern sporting architecture.  The Pala Yamamay arena is the civic treasure of the community of Busto Arsizio.  It featured a nice floor, excellent lighting, spacious locker rooms — even a separate practice gym tucked under one side of the dome.

The club team was equal to the arena.  This was a team at the B-1 level — the highest rank below the professional level.  In fact, this was something of a feeder program for the club’s own professional team.  The players were young but excellent. Some were 19, and a couple of them admitted their goal is to reach a pro team relatively soon.

How much do you practice, I asked.

“Every day,” offered one of the stars.  They usually trained, she said, for three or more hours.

The setting and the competition sparked Elon’s enthusiasm.  The team made some errors, for sure.  A few of the club players ripped some wicked, darting serves that kept our passers off-balance.  But Elon responded with some of the most alert defense and bold hitting of the week.  Head Coach Mary Tendler said she was happy with the effort throughout the match.  Maybe it was the lighting, but the group looked sharper than in previous matches.  The competition was that good.

Indeed, it was a sweep, to be expected (25-9, 25-14, 25-16).

They didn’t build Milan’s remarkable duomo in a week, either. 

Spirits were as high as the elegant wooden domed ceiling as players assembled.

Sharp contrasts in views of famous places

By Maggie Reichard

Firenze and Porto Venere:  These are two towns that have allowed me to experience beauty in very different ways.

When I first arrived to Firenze I was a little overwhelmed by the amount of people, especially tourists, who roamed around, shopped, took pictures, and ate at cafés and restaurants. When I stepped off the bus, all I saw were endless amount of stores, and tons of very fashionably dressed locals and visitors.

After touring around for several minutes, however, I began to understand why this particular city appeals to so many people from different areas of the world. It is artistic, rich in history and culture, and home to a stunning bridge, Ponte Vecchio. What stood out most to me about Firenze is that despite the fact that the city is ancient and constantly packed with people, it is well maintained and clean.

Chelsea and Maggie check the water at Porto Venere.

Porto Venere was the perfect place to visit after walking around Firenze for an entire day. While in Firenze I was surrounded by churches, statues, restaurants, stores and lots of people.  In Porto Venere, I was surrounded by salt water, a sea breeze and spectacular views of the Mediterranean Sea. Visiting Porto Venere was like taking a breath of fresh air.

No matter where I looked, I always found myself staring at something amazingly beautiful, such as waves crashing into the shore and historical churches and colorful towns built into cliffs.

Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married

By Chelsea Rafetto

Wedding party

While writing in my personal notes, I have said every day that each city is my favorite, and the coastline called Cinque Terre is no different.  So far it has been the most beautiful place, composed of five mini towns with views I have only dreamed about.

Bride and groom inside marble church.

The church in Porta Venere (at an entrance to the five towns) was absolutely beautiful, which I have found to be a trend in Italy.  But the difference here:  A wedding was going on!

Naturally, I got overzealous and wanted to see the bride’s dress, know all of the wedding details, and also go to the reception. Her dress was stunning, but I could not figure out the details or attend the reception.

While on the boat tour to see the other coastal towns, we saw another bride in the distance.  This sparked an idea to get married there myself. Dad, get ready to spend some cash-money!

People applauded as the bride stopped at a cafe.

A new team with its own friendly label

After a rough start, our Elon volleyball team gained some rhythm but still lost its match with the Montesport club team, 3-1 (25-10, 25-16, 20-25, 25-10).

White was right.  The liberos supplied the color.

It takes time, given the situation, to get accustomed to very different circumstances, including the rubberized ball used here.  First set saw a lot of ball-control errors.  More important is that the seven-player squad (two others are recuperating from injuries) regrouped and found a better tempo in the last two sets, with nice plays and some bigtime swings.  The fourth could have gone either way.

This was perhaps the most delightful match yet.  The mayor of Montespertoli  gave a welcome speech and handed out bottles of red wine with the label carrying the team photo of the club team.  It may be that the bottles were part of a celebration.  Players cheerfully explained afterward that theirs is a new team, and the match with Elon was the first ever.  They were excited.

They have been practicing up to five days a week. Never hurts.

Warm-ups in the new gym.

Once again, the locals were quite good.  The two setters, particularly, were solid.  Michela Buiatti, 21, the starting setter, said she works training younger players when she is not training herself.  That showed with her flawless technique.  She doesn’t attend college.

The other setter, Alessia Gagli, is a science student at the University of Florence.

Montespertoli is a small community in the vineyard-rich hillsides of Tuscany.  It has several new structures.  The wine business must be good.  Here is a link to a Google Earth map.  Not sure you can see it, but let’s try.  The rectangular building at the top of the community is the gym, which was quite nice for volleyball.

— GS

Heading to Pisa: Then came the rains

By Tina Readling

“Into everyone’s life a little rain must fall.” I know neither who spoke those words nor what inspired the thought behind them, but perhaps this person had visited a land across the globe as we are doing and experienced a day like we had today.

A couple of hours into our drive toward Pisa, the clouds in front of us that had been promising different weather for today made good on that promise. As I stepped from the rest stop filled with our fellow tour bus travelers – some Japanese, Chinese and Korean visitors – the drops began to fall. As I quickened my pace to the bus, I detected a familiar smell that caused me to pause, close my eyes and breathe in a little more deeply.

In my youth, my mother would wash our bed sheets and then hang them to dry on the clothesline outside. Of course, she tried to bring them in before a thunderstorm came to soak them, but every once in a while, she would not get them in on time and the afternoon rain would gently dampen the linens again. Of course, eventually the clouds would disperse and the sun would peep through to warm the sheets and dry them fully. When we finally brought the sheets in to fold them, I remember often pressing my face into the fluffiness to inhale the fresh scent of an afternoon rain that always seemed to remain within the folds of the sheets.

As with every memory, this one stirred up even more images and feelings within my mind and heart – fun summers staying at home with my mom and sister, the dreaded trips to slave in the garden picking string beans and corn, the delicious aromas smoking from the grill at our cookouts.

How strange to be here in Italy at a rest stop – in a foreign land surrounded by people who are foreign to me and to the land itself — yet to have these familiar feelings and thoughts brought on simply by the sensation of water dripping from the sky.

The past several days of our journey through Northern Italy have brought us breathtaking mountain views, exquisite local cuisine and quaint cultural experiences, leaving us quite elated and slightly out-of-touch.  But into everyone’s life a little rain must fall.  And with this gentle Italian rain comes the equally gentle reminder that, even in this place of the unfamiliar, we can find familiar things that help to bind together our roots and our new experiences.

Mist over the mountains.

Absent the details: On the road again

By Megan Gravley

We’re sitting on the bus, once again, en route to a new destination (Lucca, I think). Being on a bus for a substantial amount of time can be a challenge, for instance when we’re making the haul to Samford or Georgia Southern, especially when one is over six feet tall (as the majority of us are). But sitting on this bus as it cruises through Italian interstates and back roads makes it much easier to bear. I can look out my window and see a panorama of the snow-capped Alps or the burnt orange roofs of local homes.

This bus ride has made me realize that I can’t pinpoint today’s date. I can honestly say that I have absolutely no idea what day of the week it is, let alone the specific date. If someone asked me the time, I can guarantee that I wouldn’t know that either.

I think that is thrilling, though; going through the day not knowing he date, the day or the time. The absence of our convenient American technology during the day, i.e. our iPhones, seems to be the culprit. As much as it pains me to say it, being without that distracting connection is nice. I don’t have to worry about texting anyone back (sorry, Mom) or performing the constant scroll through my social media feeds. Sure, Ill be excited to gain full use of my phone once I’m back in the states, but it’s absence is nice for now.

A photo that tells the story

A taste of exercise in Parma. Photo: Mary Tendler.

Not sure we could set up a more evocative image than this to illustrate the elements of this athletic adventure in Italy.

Coach Mary Tendler snapped this photo while watching her players running a wind sprint through the vineyards at Casale del Gruppone in Parma, where we stopped for lunch and a tasting of excellent proscuitto, pancetta and salami — and a remarkable chunk of parmigiana cheese made on a neighboring farm.

Welcome to Parma.

The buyers were not the players.

Good idea to get some exercise after that great lunch.

Some of us also tasted a sparkling red wine made on site.  These were a few of the million bottles a year produced by the winery, most for use in restaurants.

The players were in uniform because our bus was next going to roll on for a few hours to the south to reach the gym for the match that evening.  We arrived at our hotel in San Marino until just after midnight.   — GS

Day No. 2 begins with great anticipation

By Glenn Scott

Much will happen today.  The players know they’ll be on the court this evening in their first match, and this sets an expectation we could already sense at breakfast.

Of course, the fact that everyone enjoyed a chance to sleep helps.  “I slept like a rock,” Catherine Head offered with a cheerful smile this morning at our group breakfast.  She wasn’t the only one.

The schedule today is to roll in our ultra cool bus to a chocolate factory in the morning, then dine for lunch in the Lugano area.  Afternoon is devoted to a boat tour of Lake Como.

After a stop back at the comfortable Hotel Leonardo da Vinci, we’ll take off for the match.

I’m glad to see our first posts last night from Megan, Chelsey and Chanelle.  Expecting more today, when our students, athletes and literary artists gain the chance to write.  The first day was a nice mix of surprise, relief, discovery and sleep deprivation.

We’ll still be a bit light-headed today, but it might wear off.  Nothing is better than a v-ball match to clear the mind and accelerate the heart beat.  Well, that and fresh high-quality chocolate.

Arriving in Italy: Can you tell we’re tourists?

By Chanelle Walker

After a long plane ride, we finally landed in Milan. Once we stepped off the plane, heads were turning. Italy being one of the largest fashion capitals in the world, we wore the perfect attire: maroon jackets and black leggings complementing our black Nike shoes while traveling with hundreds of people. Waiting for our luggage, we noticed the locals were pretty tiny averaging an estimated height of 5-6. We, on the other hand, were averaging a height around 5-10. We basically had a clear view of Italy itself.  So yes, we definitely nailed the tourist look.

Our sleek bus mirrors the scene at a main plaza in Como. The ‘walking red giants’ drew a good share of attention. Click on photo to enlarge. Photo: Glenn Scott.

Our tour guides, Charlotte and Aurelia, greeted and escorted us to our shiny charter bus. Being from the Elon bubble, we thought it was the usual to ride in style.  An hour later, we arrived at Lake Como.  Again, people were staring once we got off the bus, but by this point it was the usual. The locals frequently asked us if we were a basketball team. They obviously couldn’t see our finely toned legs through our lovely black leggings that we were, of course, a gymnastics team.

Elon volleyball is known for making a name for itself, and we’ve already created one the first day in Italy, the walking red giants.

Group enjoys some uniform views at Como

Down by the lake: Players catch some fresh sights and insights on their first stop at Como. This was soon after stepping off the bus.  The wave of sleepiness broke over them later, after lunch.  Photo: Mary Tendler.

From RDU: Ready set wait

Waiting through a delay posing in a terminal window.

After a busy week of preparation, the group is poised at Raleigh-Durham International Airport, waiting through the first delay of the adventure.  This is called a “flight control delay,” and these things may be reduced soon — but not soon enough for us.

But the delay is for no more than an hour, we’re promised, and we ought to make our connecting flights in Newark as we take to the sky to reach Milan.

Players have been working through tough two-a-day practices this week, and in classrooms we’ve gone over our expectations to meet Elon’s experiential standards by considering and writing about cross-cultural moments.

In a day or so, you should find some stories here.