My president, my bike, and my gelato

Last night, my host mother said something that stuck with me. We were talking about my absentee ballot, and then about the American election in general, and she said -- jokingly, but only so much -- that it doesn't seem fair that only U.S. citizens get to vote for the next U.S. president. Rather, she thinks that the whole world should get to vote for our president, given that the actions of our country so-dramatically affect the whole world.

I couldn't really disagree.



Some more photos:


My home, in Castelleone. Unusually large, in fact, for an Italian house.


My morning commute through downtown Crema.



My bike.



The rear wheel of my bike. (Note the seamless blending of design complexity with aesthetic perfection.)



My curtain-less shower.



The giant mirror directly across from my curtain-less shower.



Lombardian hay fields somewhere between Crema and Cremona.



Typical graffiti that covers most Italian trains.



A castle in Mantova.



A sculpture in Mantova, which I loved. (Sadly, I didn't take note of the sculptor or name.)


My first experience with real Italian gelato -- one of the many culinary delights contributing to by body's increasing softness.




"Abba lives!" I've seen this particular tag twice, now.

Initially, I thought it was funny because I thought it referred to the Swedish pop group, but I've since learned that Abba was the nickname of Abdul William Guibre, a black Italian beaten to death in September by two white bar owners. As more people immigrate into Italy, racism is becoming increasingly prevalent. See the link, below, for an interesting article on the matter:

http://www.italia-nuova.org/2008/10/italys-attacks-on-migrants-fuel-debate.html