Scavenger Hunt Assignment: Engage with the Locals

To begin, the Scavenger Hunt assignment entails two concepts: (1) engaging with the locals to understand Venice from a more personal viewpoint and (2) reflecting on how the Venetian culture changes the space of movement and time. My partner, Sam, and I were given the following riddle:

"George, the major, killed a Beast

Take a picture at the feast."

"George, il maggiore, has ucciso una Beastia

Scatta una foto alla festa."

We recognized two intriguing hints: A major named George who killed a beast, and a feast. The first connection we made was straightforward, linking the feast to the Last Supper. Over the past week in class, the Last Supper has been a reoccurring topic to illustrate the paradigm shift from medieval times to the Renaissance Era. Naturally, this connection made sense, but the inclusion of George and a beast had us lost.

Sam and I unexpectedly began our quest with a gondola ride. As our gondolier took us through the winding canals of Venice, he shared different facts about the historic buildings and the Grand Canal. The ride was serene and enjoyable, allowing us to step out of the tourist's shoes and lose ourselves to the beauty of Venice. As we talked to our gondolier, I mentioned our scavenger hunt. He offered an exceptional hint: the island across the mainland was named San Giorgio Maggiore, also known as San George Major! The coincidence was too close to ignore.

After our adventure in the canals, we stopped to enjoy a cappuccino at a local cafe. Sam had the bright idea to ask our barista, Maria, for directions to San Giorgio Maggiore. She suggested taking the #2 route on the vaporetto. A significant part of our quest involved finding our way back to the boats. Without a GPS or guide, we quickly learned that navigating the twisting alleys of Venice was challenging. Similar to the streets of Chicago, where I'm from, it's easy to get lost and overwhelmed. The crowded streets, filled with people speaking a language we didn't understand, mirrored the bustling activities of a medieval town. 

As we rushed through Venice, trying to catch the next vaporetto, I felt overstimulated by the amount of activity in the narrow alleys. However, each time we wandered into a campo or open space a sense of calm washed over me. These squares allowed us to pause, gather our bearings, and take a breath of fresh air from the winding roads. Foucault, in "Of Other Spaces," contemplates the contrast between the calm and the chaos of cities and spaces, much like Venice: "One could say, by way of retracing this history of space very roughly, that in the Middle Ages there was a hierarchic ensemble of places: sacred places and profane places; protected places and open, exposed places; urban places and rural places (all these concern the real life of men)" (Foucault 22). The phrase "all these concern the real life of men" stands out to me. As we ran through Venice, we passed a diverse array of people: bustling Venetians, leisurely tourists, playful children, and those watching the chaos ensue. Each person was leading their own life, in their own space. Some are aware and others are ignorant to the world. The alleys and bridges juxtaposed Venetians hurrying to work or school and tourists obstructing their path, taking photos. In contrast, the campos were joyful, filled with families conversing and children playing. In a sense, the campos and alleys represented two different realms: urban and rural places. This reflection has made me more aware of my own behavior as a tourist, recognizing the ignorance of standing in the way or ignoring the sheer amount of history around me for something insignificant, such as perfect photos or window shopping. Already, this quest has helped me see tourist habits in a different, more negative, light. 

In the end, we caught the next vaporetto to San Giorgio Maggiore. As the boat docked at the pier, the first building Sam and I saw was the white basilica of San Giorgio Maggiore (pictured above). I discovered that George, the major, was actually Saint George, a great figure in Christianity. His fame grew from the tale of rescuing a princess from the beast, also known as the dragon. We wandered around the great halls inside the basilica, admiring the Renaissance art. Soon we found ourselves near the center, at the foot of the altar, staring up at a grand version of the Last Supper. A selfie of Sam and I in front of the painting is provided to the left. This rendition of the Last Supper was completed by the artist Tintoretto, showcasing his own interpretation of the scene.

Something I appreciated while completing this assignment was interacting with the Venetian locals. When traveling with a class, it is very easy to avoid meaningful conversations with people outside your immediate group. This makes sense - it's comfortable to stay within familiar circles, especially in unfamiliar places. However, before this trip, I promised myself that I would embrace being comfortable being uncomfortable. This meant stepping out of my shell to talk to people I didn't know, even if there was a language barrier. This assignment has helped me realize that it is quite easy to connect with others, whether it be through a simple question or to start a meaningful interaction. Engaging with the locals has enriched my experience and provided niche insights into Venetian culture and daily life. Whether it was asking for directions, learning local history, or simply sharing laughter over a cappuccino, these interactions will become the most memorable parts of my journey.

In continuation, before this trip, I had seen many pictures and interpretations of Venice: clear skies with bright blue canals and colorful buildings. The scavenger hunt and exploration helped me see that this utopia I had imagined wasn't all perfect. The skies are often clouded over, the canal water is never clear, and the buildings have chipped paint and mossy walls. Nevertheless, the imperfections don't degrade Venice, they instead enhance it. Realizing that it isn't some perfect world makes it all more real and helps me understand that photos will never truly capture the essence of a place, person, or thing. Gombrich touches on this in "Art and Illusion: A Study in the Psychology of Pictorial Representation" where he continuously dissects the difference between admiring and idealizing: "In this terminology the image which relies on 'knowledge' only is 'purely conceptual,' and the history of art, as we have seen, becomes the history the expulsion of this intruder" (Gombrich 293). Idealizing Venice as the perfect world or perfect vacation spot is incorrect. It has flaws in its streets and canals, but the real beauty of Venice lies in its people. The Venetians are often kind and patient with tourists, ready to share stories of their history, like the gondolier and Maria. Beforehand, Venice was "purely conceptual," but now it is real and I can see what Venice truly is: its people. Being in Venice, in real-time, is more educational than any picture or book can ever provide. This realization represents my shift from having a tourist mindset to seeing myself as another person in this vibrant city. Venice is not heaven on earth; it is a living, breathing place waiting to be explored.