So I realize I haven’t written much about school so I understand why some may think that I don’t actually go to class or do anything worthy of academic credit, but loh, this weekend was another “working weekend” as we went to Ostia Antica for our History class. So I gave y’all the low down on Paolo the Art History prof, so here’s the skinny on the History prof, Jan (yahwn).
He’s tall. He’s Belgian. He walks REALLY fast. He speaks innumerable languages. He will sacrifice you to the gods of ancient Rome if you are 1) a sissy, 2) a slowpoke, 3) sassy, 4) irritate him for ANY reason. In his words, “the streets of Rome run red with the blood of my students.” Oh, and he’s also a robot, doesn’t think and doesn’t care. All from his mouth.
Don’t get the idea that he’s some kind of student-whipping psycho, he’s just one of those profs that takes extreme pleasure in scaring the shit out of you. But if you’re on his good side (like, say, if you’re a history major) then he’ll give you a nickname and call it good. Mine’s Raqu-ell-ay.
He’s a prof during the school year, but works at the dig site for an ancient Roman villa in the summers as an archaeologist, so it was a treat to get to go to Ostia with him.
Ostia Antica is kind of like Pompeii without the lava. Lots of really well preserved homes and shops and baths, pretty much the whole city is intact. We chased Jan around looking at everything and getting quizzed. At one point we ended up in field of wild fennel and mint where there was this thorny vine a tripped on and got a thorn stuck in the top of my toe. We got to go up onto the THIRD FLOOR of an ancient apartment building too!
It was a perfect day for this trip too. Sunny and in the 80s with a breeze. Take that Minnesota! Just kidding, I hear it was hot there too.
We ran ourselves ragged for about 6 hours with no break for lunch and then Jan had to get home to watch his 5 year old son and 3 year old daughter who is, and I quote, “a pain in the ass.” Since I’ve been through the Jan ringer, I was anticipating that we wouldn’t stop for lunch, so I packed some food in my Sparky Bag and was eating my little lunch at the train station. I went to open my yogurt and what happens? I spill half the cup all over my skirt. And it was the good yogurt too that tastes like Honey Walnut cream cheese from Panera. Oh well, I needed to wash it any way.
Since we left on the train at 8:30 in the morning, we got back to our apartments before 3 and had just enough time to do some homework and shower before Classy Night began :)
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