more random stuff about me

So we're halfway through NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo. How are you feeling kids?

I figure it's about time to dig into those questions I asked you for a while back.

To recap, I was first tagged by amazing artist Robyn of Have Dogs, Will Travel to write seven random facts about me. Then I was tagged two more times, first by Italianissima of Always Italianissima and then by Tui of Mental Mosaic for more random facts.

And even though I wasn't technically tagged, I'll also accept the kind NaBloPoMo invitation from BipolarLawyerCook as well.

I'm responding to your questions in the order they were received with the exception of those from Sara of Moving Right Along who wants my favorite Italian cookie recipe and Robin of My Melange (did you see I won her book contest?!) who asked about whether I'm legal in Italy (short answer: yes) and how I got to be that way (longer answer needed). Both will get their own posts at some point.

Try to sleep at night anyway.

(1) Giulia of From Head to Boot asked what I used to think about future children and whether that has changed.

As far back as I can remember, I always thought three was a good number, and I still do, and, interestingly, so does P. I was never hung up on whether they be boys or girls, though, and I’m still not.

Of course the older you get, the more you realize that these things are pretty much out of your control, so I’m just hoping for a healthy baby or babies in whatever number we’re supposed to have.

Truth be told, though, I’d *really* love at least one little girl; my relationship with my mom is one of the most precious things I have in my life, and I’d love the opportunity to recreate that with a daughter.

(2) Shelley of At Home in Rome asked me what is the most expensive thing I’ve ever splurged on.

I’m not really a big spender generally so, other than book shopping sprees (and there have been more than a few of those), the most expensive thing I’ve ever splurged on was my first trip to Italy in the summer of 2002, and it was very much an impulse decision.

I was surfing the Internet one night looking for information on my ancestors' village, not a thought in my head of a visit, and I happened to come across a tour that was heading precisely here. Coincidence? I don't believe in them.

I had my flight booked within a few hours and the rest, as they say, is history.

(3) Dee of Mundane Profound Musings asked if I could be president of one country for 100 days, which country would it be and what would I do?

I’d pick to lead the US because of the issues I’d like to address--getting out of Iraq and providing universal health care. Those are the big two, and probably all I could reasonably focus on with just a hundred days, but I wouldn’t mind trying to do something to increase the value of the dollar as well as pass some environmentally-friendly legislation.

Of course I'd also love to do something about immigration laws in Italy, but I only get to pick one country.

(4) Alyndabear asked about the best thing about living in Italy.

Other than P and my doggies, I’d have to say that the best thing, for me, about living in Italy is the overall peaceful feeling I have being here. Maybe that’s cheesy, but honestly, I’m just happy, and that’s definitely the best thing about living here.

The cappuccino ain't bad either.

(5) Karen of Artsortments asked how often I get back to the States to visit.

Unfortunately I don't think the term "how often" really applies as I haven't been back since June of 2004. I'm hoping to get back there sooner or later, but this euro/dollar thing isn't making matters any easier. On the bright side, most of my family is discussing plans to come here next summer!

(6) Karen also asked whether I've seen any Mafia activity lately.

I hear and see nothing, cara mia.

(7) Maryann of Finding La Dolce Vita wrote "Yes, how do Italian women stay thin in Italy with all the great food? What is a normal day of eating and or exercise like in Italy?"

I'm sorry to report that I know of no magic information explaining why many Italian women are slim; personally I think a lot of them just have high metabolisms because some of them can eat and eat and eat and still be really thin (those women reportedly exist everywhere).

But actually a lot of Italian women *aren't* slim as percentages of overweight and obese people are climbing up and up. And unfortunately some of the slim women I know really don't eat very much at all and/or smoke. But I'm guessing this isn't what you want in the form of diet and exercise advice.

It's really different for everyone, though, so it's not easy to say *this* is what they do--except that I can tell you how I lost weight (somewhere around 30 pounds) while here and how, I imagine, many Italian women keep themselves in shape.

I eat less junk food, processed foods, sugar, red meat, and butter. I eat more fruits, vegetables, and beans and use *a lot* more olive oil. Chicken and rabbit are our go-to meats.

I don't think that generally Italians get a lot of exercise unless they're walking around cities a lot. Although many young people I know go to the gym, from what I see many Italians like to drive rather than walk from Point A to Point B. But a lot of the older women still do a lot of manual labor, so that's their exercise.

Me? I don't drive, so I do a lot of walking, especially with the dogs. And I also do yoga.

I guess it's cliché but the best I can tell you is to eat less of the bad stuff, more of the good stuff, and move more, which, in general, is what a lot of Italians seem to do (except for the moving part as described above).

And there we have seven random things about me, sort of.

I still have more questions to answer, but if you have anything you'd like to know, ask me in the comments!

Today I'm thankful for:

Sunny, windy days like today so I can finally hang out some clothes and actually have them be dried by the end of the day.

If you've been reading my blog or just about any blog by an expat in Italy, you know that clothes dryers are quite rare around here (I'm very jealous of MB of The Flavors of Abruzzo right now!). This means that during the colder months, we end up with wet, musty-smelling clothes a lot of the time as they have to dry inside on racks--which takes at least two days when it's damp outside.

I will eventually get a dryer, I'm sure, but for now, I cherish these glorious windy days and then go crazy doing laundry. You can see the roughness of the sea a bit here:


La tramontana is the name of the wind that gives us these great clothes-drying days; it also usually means that any rain clouds pass over us quickly without dropping anything.

Sure it puts a bit of a chill in the air too, but I'll take it for the sake of our clothes...not to mention that it also gives us an excuse to start up a fire in the fireplace.

And I love a fire in the fireplace.

into the heart of calabria: benvenuti a badolato!

Ready for some history?

Badolato Basics

My village, the birthplace of my great-great-grandfather, is Badolato, and it's located between the Ionian Sea and the Serre Mountains in Calabria, the toe of Italy’s boot.

Badolato, the meaning of which is in dispute (sorry, only in Italian) was founded in 1080 by conqueror and first Duke of Calabria Robert Guiscard, who along with his brother, took over southern Italy and Sicily for the Normans around that time.

Like many villages of this period, Badolato was built on a hilltop about 5 kilometers from the sea with a good view of any approaching ships. Staying too close to the water was considered dangerous not only because of potential invasion--the southernmost part of the peninsula was the gateway to the entire territory now known as Italy and the rest of Europe--but also because of malaria, which was quite common as some of the area was swampland.

View of Badolato Superiore from the winding road leading up to the village.
My house is just below the church from this angle--
not the grand one, the next one down
(you can only see my balcony door and side window).
Sorry for the haze, but why yes, that is an olive tree on the lower left.

And so, Badolato was built as a walled city, encircled by stone and guarded by three watchtowers, one of which is still partially standing (below); the town crest (left) honors these watchtowers and the village's medieval history.


Many of the original walls around the village as well as the old gates that sealed off the city from invaders also remain, but a castle on a hill that was once the town's centerpiece (thus the name of the main square Piazza Castello) had to be torn down in the 1970s for safety reasons. Previously, it had cast a shadow on all that was below it, as castles are wont to do.

The piazza is now alternately called Piazza Fosso--fosso referring to the huge hole left behind by removing the hill and castle (it didn't create a hole really, only leveled off the hill the castle had been on).


Political, social, and agricultural history

As rulers changed throughout southern Italy (German, French, Spanish, Turk, Austrian, Bourbon) Badolato felt each influence in turn, which you can hear in Badolatese, the main tongue spoken around here (a version of the Calabrian/Sicilian language, which some (mistakenly) call a dialect), and taste in the traditional Calabrian cuisine, noted for its fondness for the peperoncino, brought back to Italy by Columbus, although also widely used by Arabs who settled here.

Badolato soon became one of the most prominent and wealthiest cities in what is now southern Italy, swelling to a population of 8,000 (some estimates say up to 12,000) and boasting the palazzi of some of the most influential families in southern Europe, mostly due to production of olive oil, wine, and citrus fruit.

The family of the former baron of Badolato still owns a palazzo or two (although they don't live here full-time) as well as a grand villa that sits on a huge chunk of the land surrounding the village. Almost all of the land around Badolato is still farmed, including that of the former baron, but most of it is was broken into smaller plots as the feudal system died down around the turn of the 20th century.

Incidentally, on the bigger plots, some families built workhouses (no plumbing, electricity, etc.), but still today it is rare for Calabrians to consider actually living on that kind of open land (most prefer village life and traveling by car or by foot to their land). Indeed getting permits to build is difficult as the land is zoned agricultural. Unless it has some existing structure (at least the remains of a wall!), it's illegal to build a house on these land plots--which means no subdivisions in Calabria's future. No complaints here.

Religious heritage

Badolato’s importance and deep religious and spiritual history are represented by its 13 churches and 17th century Convento Santa Maria degli Angeli, once a monastery but now a drug and alcohol rehabilitation treatment center; residents produce their own food on site and even operate a restaurant.

Convento nestled among olive trees
(You may remember this old monastery from the Easter procession)

Some say that it's possible that the Holy Grail was transported here and may still be buried underground somewhere. In 1070, a group of Calabrian monks went to France and established the Ordre de Sion, which later became the Priory of Sion of Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code fame--said to be the keepers of the Grail.

The Calabrian monks returned to Calabria in 1090 but no one knows what, if anything, they brought with them from France; could they have incorporated valuable Christian artifacts into the underground ducts and tunnels of a blossoming Catholic stronghold called Badolato?

Effects of emigration

Like many southern Italian towns, Badolato was a victim of emigration, largely abandoned during two major waves of flight: the first in the early twentieth century (when my family left) and the second after World War II.


In both instances, emigrants were looking for better opportunities, but especially after the second World War when southern Italy was truly war-torn and downtrodden; my 82-year-old neighbor has sung for me a children's rhyme that complained to Il Duce, Benito Mussolini, that they were living the day without bread and the night without lights (u jornu senza pane, la notte senza luci). A flash flood that wiped out a part of the village in the 1950s surely made the decision to leave easier for many.

Badolatesi fled to, among other places, the United States, Canada, Argentina, Brazil, Germany, Switzerland, and Australia, many leaving behind their homes with only whatever they could carry, never to return.


Others moved just down to the coast, where Badolato Marina was being built in the 1950s--living nearer to the water was now considered safe, plus coastal life was also more convenient with the railroad and highway running through there.


Indeed, P's mom remembers where there wasn't even a paved road leading down from the mountain village to the sea--I've yet to walk the path, but it's still there--and anyway, there were only a handful of cars in the village even in to the 1960s, so you can that imagine folks tended to stay close to home.

Because of this mass emigration, the population of Badolato Superiore now stands at about 350 (total population with Badolato Marina is around 4000). This set-up is quite common throughout southern Italy, by the way, so that you'll often see a "Superiore" town up on the hill/mountain, and its counterpart closer to the sea with "Marina" or "Lido" after the name.

Badolato Marina
(Sorry for the poor quality here; it's an old scanned photo of mine)

The Ship of Kurds

Badolato had fleeting hope of a boom just after Christmas 1997 when 825 Kurdish refugees landed on its shores; this made international news and you can read more about it here (the man on the left in the third photo is my vicino Giuseppe!).

The Badolato community welcomed the Kurds as potential workers and young revitalizers of the old town. The new immigrants are mostly gone now, though, either deported or having left for Germany, France, or elsewhere in the EU for work.

Still, Badolato remains one of the most involved immigration centers in all of Italy in so far as welcoming migrants and helping them with housing, health care, work, and psychological adjustment to life in a new country; one of my translation contracts with the local health care agency involves a special EU project to include cultural and linguistic mediators in this process.

Current and Future Badolato

And yet Badolato remains largely empty, like the village Farfallina wrote about, although the population swells enormously in August when many return to their hometown from Germany, northern Italy, etc., for ferie--Calabria, generally, is quite a hot spot for Italians and other Europeans looking for great, clean beaches.

Even the New York Times agrees.

Photo © Franco Muìa

Badolato is undergoing a revitalization, though, as there have already been quite a few properties sold to international buyers over the years; casa by casa things are looking more lived in, although I'm the only year-round foreigner who lives here (Badolatesi would say the transplants from Genoa, Naples, and elsewhere in Italy are also stranieri, but I'm the only non-native Italian).

There is a lot of potential here for tourism, as you can probably imagine, although there would need to be a lot of infrastructure work done first--getting here and getting around isn't always easy. No one wants to commercialize the town to the point that it's another Siena or Cortona, overrun with tourists, but a few more visitors, a few more people who want to experience the real Italy complete with women carrying baskets on their heads?

Well that would be nice.

We may not have much support from the government, but we do have green mountains, a clear blue sea, fresh mountain air and water, warm souls, and delicious, fresh food, and for me, that's certainly plenty.

Final Notes

For those of you who have made it this far (thank you!) and still want more, you can see more photos under the Scenes from Village Life label, my first Virtual Tour, and the two most recent posts: Destination Calabria: Photo Tour of a Medieval Village (Part I) and (Part II).

And if you want to plan a trip, just let me know!

what's that saying about wild horses?

Right, um, I know I said I wouldn't be around, but I have some things to share:

1. Want to know more about life as an expat? Check out my post, Top 5 Hidden Advantages of Being an Expat, over at ExpatInterviews.com.

2. Looking for a quick end-of-the-summer getaway in which there will be flying fruit? Put on your best Gallagher plastic and read my post, The World's Biggest Tomato Fight: Bunol's La Tomatina at TomatoCasual.com.

3. Hankering for a bag o' books and bath goodies? Head on over to Welcome to My World of Dreams where you could win such a bag (if you're a US or Canada resident) or a $30 Amazon gift certificate if you're international like me--I didn't read too closely the first time around, but Judy Thomas was lovely enough to come over here and point out that we're *all* invited to the party celebrating the launch of Long and Short Reviews no matter where we live! Woohoo!

4. Missing What's Cooking Wednesday? Here are two food-related sites that I found recently and have fallen in love with: Chowhound.com and The Traveler's Lunch Box. Seriously. LOVE.

5. And finally, have you reached the end of the Internet? Don't know what else to read? Here are five posts/blogs I recommend:

• 5 Powerful Reasons to Eat Slower at Zen Habits. This kind of builds on our discussion about obesity and weight loss from a little while ago but comes from a different angle. If you haven't seen this site and are remotely interested in becoming a more peaceful, productive, happier, oh just better person, this is a great place to start.

• Introversion at Crazy Dust in My Coffee. Being quite an introvert myself, I love how Ally Bean broke this down so that even the most extroverted of extroverts can understand--or at least I hope they can because I don't think it can be explained much better.

• The Seven Virtues: Charity at The Verge. I could link to any one of former-Italy-expat Jennifer's posts and sing its praises, but since I love this particular one so much, here you go. I've never seen another blogger who incorporates fine art so seamlessly into her posts. It's too beautiful for words, really.
  

• Mysteries of Life at Burnett's Urban Etiquette. This post is from a while ago, but I adore it as I do all of this Miami Herald contributor's stuff. James Burnett has a knack for pinpointing exactly what I want to say about a given topic *or* giving me a new perspective that I hadn't considered. I think that's cool, so you should read him.
  

• Also, my naval is pretty at The Moon Topples. These are Maht's (grudgingly given) answers to a meme about what he likes about himself. I just heart the way Maht expresses himself through his various creative mediums, and I think a lot of you will too. If his answers to a meme made my recommended list, you know he's good.

OK, now I'm really vacationing from the blog. If I ever have children, you think separation anxiety might be a wee bit of a problem?

Still wishing you were here!

i'm back with an interview with...me!

Just a quick note to direct you to an interview I did with My Melange: Infusing European Culture into Your Lifestyle.

Check me out, would you? Be forewarned that I'm about to get in your face! Hah!

You'll understand in a moment.

Wish you were here!

my italian vacation (sort of) and your summer homework

Taking a cue from fellow Italy expat bloggers Shelley, Sara, Jessica, and Sara, I'm taking a little time off away from the blog.

I know this is odd for those of you in America, especially, to wrap your heads around, but here in Italy, just about everyone takes most if not all of August off. P and I aren't going anywhere since everyone comes to us (ah, living in southern Europe is so tough!), and in fact, we're both still working.

But we'll also be spending plenty of time with his 6 brothers and sisters and 16 (or is it 17?) nieces and nephews that are here right now, so I'm taking a break from posting for a little while.

I'll still be around visiting your blogs, though (can't keep me away if you tried!) and I may even pop in to say hello here, but while I'm gone I have some suggestions to keep you busy:

1. Head over to The Island Review, a great site for keeping up with all the contests and give-aways going on via the Internet, including a fabulous contest for digital camera lovers through PicaJet--you can win a PicaJet FX and/or RoboImport!

What's all that you say? It's about making our digital photos the best they can be and also keeping them organized, so do click on the above links for more information. Hurry, ends August 15th!

FYI, the author, Kailani, is a dedicated mom, wife, and flight attendant who also writes An Island Life from her home base in Hawai'i. I know. I'd hate her too if she wasn't so damn sweet.

2. I've told you about the group She Who Blogs before, and now I'm going to send you to one of our most recent members' blogs: Model Behavior.

You should visit all the member blogs as they're all wonderful (seriously!), but when I clicked on this one, I wanted to read every post from the beginning. I think we all know that's a rare warm fuzzy in the blogosphere, so I wanted to pass it on to you.

3. Another of my recent discoveries is The Passionate Palate, and for those of you who enjoy a great food blog, this one is for you.

Jeni, the author, also runs Passionate Palate Tours, food and wine tours through Italy, and I've had great fun corresponding with her the past few days. Give her some comment and link love!

4. Check out a great post on work and life balance over at Writing, Work and Weasels, and for those of you who can read Italian, go read Audrissima's L'onestà, la bellezza nella semplicità e l'amore--and why not comment and tell them I sent you?

These are my favorite posts of the day so far, but the day is young, bloggers, so get writing!

I really *should* start posting my favorite posts every day...hmm...hello Google Reader? Something for me to think about over the break (while I am reading many, many books).

5. Spread the word about my Bella Bags E-Party and Contest on your own blog, then come back here and tell me (or email me) and I'll send you special link love when I return.

Woohoo! We're all winners!

There are so many more recommendations I have for you, and that's what I'll spend part of my vacation compiling, I promise.

See, I'll be thinking of you, so that makes it OK, right?

Here's your postcard in advance:

Hope all your days feel like this.

answering your questions: italy edition

Hey, remember when JennieBoo tagged me with the eight things meme and you wrote in with your questions after I asked for help?

For those who haven't been following, go read parts one, two, and three of my answers to catch up because now we're on the fourth installment of responses...and I *still* won't have gotten to all the questions by the time I'm done here.

You are such an inquisitive bunch!

These questions all have to do with Italy in some way or another, so let's start with a photo to get us in the mood.


Now settle in and get a cup of whatever it is will get you through this--it's a long one.

1. Sharon in Sicily asked me to name the strangest thing I've seen in everyday Italian life.

Oh where to begin? I'm going to go with something that truly baffles me and that no one has been able to adequately explain to me thus far.

Italians are notoriously obsessive about the cleanliness of the inside of their homes. So then why, oh why, is there so much litter, graffiti, and occasional bouts with garbage piles *outside* of them?

The juxtaposition of the two extremes is just...well...it's quite simply the strangest thing I have seen in everyday Italian life.

2. My Melange would like to know what my favorite spot in Italy is and where I'd like to go that I haven't yet been; in a related question, Kimberly wants to know where I'd suggest a first time overseas traveler head first.

You probably don't know this and maybe won't even believe it, but I'm not well-traveled within Italy at all--Calabria, yes, as I've seen everything in depth and many times (except the area around Cosenza--no offense to the Cosentini!). But I've never been to the biggies like Rome (gasp!) and Florence.

Wow. That felt like confession. I feel better now.

Anyway, right now, I'd have to say that my favorite spot in Italy is, well, home.

But a close second is Serra San Bruno, the site of an 11th century monastery nestled up in the Serra mountains (part of the Sila range) about 45 minutes away from me. It's a wooded area with walking trails and spots for picnics--there's even a little stream running through it. So peaceful and relaxing.

I also like Taormina in Sicily, which is gorgeous although quite touristy.

I've meant to travel more, I swear, but it's kind of expensive especially since I've been busy working to save up for various other things; travel just hasn't been a priority.

But on Kimberly's point, the first place we'll probably head once we get out and about is Rome--I think it's the most logical starting point for discovering Italy (but then I've never been very logical, which explains my roundabout route). Plus P's sister lives just outside the city, so that'll cut down on our costs.

3. Bec wants to know more about how long it took me to be fluent in Italian, or at least to be able to understand and respond.

First, as background for those who don't know--I came here without speaking Italian aside from "ciao" and some food words.

Now on becoming fluent, let me put it this way: the basics are easy, especially when you're immersed and don't have a choice but to learn, as was my situation. I went back to the US after six months here, and I was getting along just fine on a day to day basis by the time I left.

That said, four years later, I'm still not where I'd like to be, but I can hold my own in pretty much any situation. I think in Italian, dream in Italian, and often count in Italian, so I'd say I'm well on my way. What I need to do now is really study grammar and expand my vocabulary, and then I'll consider myself truly fluent.

I'd say it'll take a couple more years, though, because this, unfortunately, isn't much of a priority either. I've gotten a bit lazy, I'm afraid, and I'm quite happy to simply not struggle every day with easy things. When I'm ready for a challenge again, I'll pick up some books and study.

4. Stefania wanted to know if Italy's lifestyle really is more laid back and how I spend my days.

Great question, and I'm so glad you asked!

I live in a 350-person village in southern Italy, so yes, the lifestyle here *is* pretty laid back; people do things on their own time and when they want, thus our many expat complaints about lines at the post office and the doctor's office and not having our phone lines fixed for months.

That said, there are also cities in Italy, especially the farther north you go, that are very much like cities anywhere--a lot of rushing around and, unfortunately, a lot of stress. Our friend Michellanea is in Milano, and I think she'd be the first to tell you that she ain't taking afternoon naps and sipping limoncello all day.

Of course, neither am I, but I'm also not rushing around trying to get as much done in a day as possible--or having to cover great physical distances to get those things done (this is a general difference between city and rural life, I think, and not Italy-specific).

My average day? I do the same things as most everyone else only I work from home (except when I'm teaching) so I can schedule things when I want--some mornings I have errands, for example, and those are always more stressful than anything else I do. Other than that, I do yoga, take Luna on walks, work, get cappuccino at the bar with a friend, work, cook, eat, do laundry, clean, talk to my mom on the phone, blah blah blah.

Oh, and blog of course.

5. And finally, we have Anno:

It seems to me that there are so many romantic memoirs published about life in Italy (Eat Pray Love, which I Loved Loved Loved; and Under the Tuscan Sun); when you read these books, do you snort in derision, or is there something in them that still resonates with you?

This is a fabulous question. I'm laughing as I imagine my snorts of derision. I'll have to work on those--sounds like fun!

Hmm. How can I say this? There are some authors' styles that I appreciate more than others. Frances Mayes in Under the Tuscan Sun really pours it on; she's a flowery writer recounting the stresses of restoring a villa while she's in the US and trying to find creative ways to use all the wonderful flowers and vegetables in her Tuscan garden. She's half in the US and half out and obviously had a considerable amount of cash to work with.

Let's just say we didn't share the same experience.

That said, I didn't hate the book, and indeed, I found some passages that I liked enough to copy into my quote book such as:

Where you are is who you are. The further inside you the place moves, the more your identity is intertwined with it. Never casual, the choice of place is the choice of something you crave.

I identified with this sentiment as I read it during the year between when I decided to move here and when I did. So no snorts there.

On the other hand, I *really* enjoyed Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabeth Gilbert, and yes, I keep promising a review, and it'll come at some point. I definitely recommend it as I enjoyed following Gilbert's journey, but interestingly, more on a spiritual level than anything.

Again, no snorting.

But I will say that if you want to read a spirited, down-to-earth "I moved to Italy" book, check out Extra Virgin: A Young Woman Discovers the Italian Riviera, Where Every Month is Enchanted by Annie Hawes.

Here are some of my favorite parts:

No matter how much you feel you're in the middle of nowhere around here, completely unobserved, you're sure to come across someone who saw exactly what you were up to--or who knows someone else who did.

Expats in small towns? You with me on this one?

I mentally take my hat off to whatever unbelievably desperate person first discovered the edibility of the olive--I'm sure I would have starved without ever guessing for a moment that the things weren't poisonous.

For those who don't know, raw olives aren't fit to be eaten--and if you don't believe me, you're welcome to try for yourself.

Lucy [Hawes' sister] and I are thinking longingly of a quiet place up a mountain, a place where people only speak one at a time, and in English. We need to rest our reeling brains.

Here here!

And finally, addressing a subject near and dear to my heart:

I, meanwhile, far from being modernized, have recently found myself being put through a typically Italian trauma...I have transmuted, inexplicably yet inexorably, from a signorina to a signora.

Perhaps I should explain that "signorina" means a young woman, and "signora," well, doesn't.

And that wraps up today's Italy Edition answers.

P.S. Figs Olives Wine--I haven't forgotten about your Italy-related question; I just have bigger plans for it.

P.P.S. If you haven't checked out the Bella Bags E-Party and Contest, get there! And do keep checking Bella Bags because Marcía's adding new bags all the time.

seashells *and* ponies!

Good news and bad news.

Bad news first, OK?

I won't be around for a few days because of various work commitments, so you probably won't hear from me again until Friday or so (most likely no What's Cooking Wednesday, sniff sniff).

Just didn't want anyone to worry about me or my Internet connection, so there you have it.

Now the good news:

As I type this, the cuffs of my capri-length jeans are still damp from the waters of the Ionian Sea (although I have changed out of them) and bits of sand are sprinkled throughout my house.

Let's start in the early morning.

This morning I was walking Luna when I stopped to take this photo of a pretty tree in the piazza:


Check out the (untouched) color of the sky. I just knew it would be a good day.

Also, you can't see them very well, but there are some fallen petals on the sidewalk; obviously I got there before the rubbish collector did, otherwise they'd have been swept up.

While I was snapping, P's sister-in-law came over to me. We chatted for a few minutes--P is currently painting her house--and when I mentioned I had to go down to the Marina (part of the village on the coast, 5 km away), she offered me a ride as she was headed there.

This was an hour before I was planning to leave on the bus, so I took Luna home and packed up everything I'd need for my errands, which included the bank (ATM), bakery, grocery store, market, and beach if there was time (not an errand, but a thought).

But soon the whole plan changed.

As I was finishing up at the ATM machine, I got a call from one of my employers telling me that I could go pick up my paycheck (my first from them--only two months late!) at a bank in another town. So I hurried up with my errands in the Marina and caught the bus to the other town.

When I arrived at the bank, I couldn't believe it--only five people in line! Oh. Just one teller.

And there's the rub.

So I waited an hour and a half for a transaction that took literally two minutes. By then, I had missed the next bus back to my village, although I was blessed with the amusing sight of a woman being refused entry into the bank.

[For those who don't know, in order to enter a bank here, you have to press a button for a little Star Trek-like glass pod to open. You step in and the Controller of the Pod (we'll call this person "COP") says yea or nay via a button that opens the other side of the pod leading into the bank.]

This poor woman, probably in her 30s, long black hair pulled back in a pony, stepped in and out of the pod at least five times with no luck. I think she finally went and put her purse in her car because she eventually convinced the COP (with no havoc ensuing, thank goodness).

Anyway, by the time I finally got another bus to the Marina (I'd then need a separate bus, passing through the Marina an hour later, to get up to my village), it was noon and I was starving. So I did what any self-respecting non-Italian would do at mezzogiorno--I got a panino and a peach iced tea and headed for the beach.

Of course at that hour, the seaside was all mine as all the real Italians were home for lunch most likely featuring pasta and not simply prosciutto and provola like I was about to have.

But before I got to the sand and surf, I was greeted by ponies (and a horse and a donkey)!








Circus is in town, you see. Not as funny (and useful!) as these ponies, but that first one really has something to brag about if you ask me.

Soon I got comfy with my lunch.


As this was yet another unplanned beach excursion, I didn't have any of the usual supplies. I had to make do with a scarf, which I always have in my bag, and rolled up capri pants. In the past couple months, I've come to realize that I actually don't dislike going to the beach as I always thought I had--what I hate is the preparation, the making sure I have absolutely everything I might need.

A trip to the sea is quite enjoyable, I've found, when you simply show up.

When my belly was full, I walked along the beach snapping some more photos.




Did I mention that our water is clean, clean, clean?


And then it was time to go.


But not before I grabbed some free souvenirs so that I can always remember those gorgeous few hours.


Ah, and then it got even better!

When I arrived home, a copy of Eat, Pray, Love was waiting for me--my prize for winning Shelley's (At Home in Rome) La Mia Italia post contest with Conquering Evil (One Plastic Red Horn at a Time)!

Hope everyone's week is as lovely as my Monday has been!

sunday scribblings: simple

Prompt #61: Simple*

I pull out my notebook to jot down some thoughts because I want to remember these moments forever--simple pleasures of being tickled by cool water trickling through my toes, digging my hands in the sand until they are covered in damp black and gold specks, brushing wisps of hair out of my face put there by the constant, lovely breeze.

I write the date in Italian without thinking, and I smile.

I didn't bring my journal or camera because a trip to the sea wasn't in the original plan. I have to give final exams in an hour or so, but I decide to head to the beach instead of straight to school--no matter that I have no swimsuit or towel (although always sunscreen).

At least I'm wearing flip-flops and a little sand on my jean skirt isn't going to hurt anyone.

Despite summer-like temperatures, I am nearly alone on the beach. Two bikini-clad blondes, already sufficiently abbronzate if you ask me, lounge nearby, laughing and joking, switching easily from French to French-accented Italian and back again. We exchange buon giornos, but nothing more. I wonder what brought them to southern Italy, but they seem content in their world, so I don't ask.

I look up from my notebook and see the back of a shiny black head pop up from the water. Just as quickly, the head dips back under and flippers peek out where it had been. The Ionian Sea is so clear, he can surely see to the bottom without all that gear, but he seems happy, and that's what's important. I am reminded that an amateur diver discovered the famous Riace Bronze statues just south of here in the early 1970s, and I wonder whether similar treasures lie just below this guy's mask.

There's a teenage girl a little ways down, standing in the water, her short navy blue skirt grazing the surface. She's whipping her head from side to side, struggling to keep her long, black, curly hair out of her way as she furiously types a text message on her phone. She'll spend the entire hour I'm here on the phone in one way or another, but no one joins her. I wonder if anyone came after I left, and I hope that someday she'll appreciate her own company if she doesn't already.

A sailboat eases by, two men on board casually steering the craft between the scuba diver's periodically surfacing head and a rather large fishing boat anchored in the sea. I can't tell what they're saying from here, but they're smiling and laughing. The wind is perfect for sailing as far as I know, but admittedly, that isn't very much. They go back and forth, back and forth, and I think that it'll soon be time to call home and tell their wives/mothers to put on the pasta, as the time for pranzo is approaching. I wonder if they'll take a contented nap after they eat.

I put down my notebook and return to the water I had waded in up to my knees when I first arrived--earlier today, yes, but as my feet sink into the wet sand, I realize, also five years ago. I am back in virtually the same spot in which I had first experienced the Ionian Sea, when I had vacationed here what seems like a lifetime ago, when I had no idea that I'd end up making a life here, when P and Luna didn't even exist, at least to me.

I am taken back to the thoughts that were occupying my mind at that time--my twenty-five-year old mind that started to play with a silly thought of making a major life change, of stepping off the fast-track and pursuing the passions that had always been in my heart but that had been pushed aside for more practical considerations.

The water is calm, refreshing, and oh so clean--cleansing, one could say. I regret that I can't go in deeper as I have to play professional in half an hour. I laugh to myself as I glance back at the sweater I brought along in case it got chilly. The sweater will stay tucked in my bag for another time, though, because today, the weather is perfect, the breeze is perfect, and this moment is perfect.

And I don't want to ever forget it.

_________________________

*I'm posting this early because I won't be around tomorrow; First Holy Communion time round here, which means some family fun.

Have a lovely weekend everyone!

i've "bean" interviewed

Today I am the subject of an interview by Ally Bean of Crazy Dust In My Coffee. Ally had been questioned by J of Thinking About... and then as part of "The Interview Meme," she offered to send questions others if they chose to accept the challenge.

I did, and here are Ally's questions and my responses:

Question: What part of your day do you enjoy the most?

The early morning. If you would’ve told me five years ago that I’d respond as such, I would’ve thought you’d been hitting the sauce, but I’ve come to love the fresh morning air, the silence, the hope and potential that each day holds. And of course my morning routine and, these days, my iced coffee.

Question: What is your opinion of the color yellow?

I love it in all shades, but not for all purposes. I’m not fond of any shade of yellow for a car, but my house is pale yellow, which I find charming on a home. I don’t wear much yellow, and if I do, it’s also of the pale persuasion (like me), and I *love* yellow legal pads. If I had my druthers, I’d have the walls of my (as yet to be developed) home office painted yellow. It’s in discussion.

Question: What is the dumbest pair of shoes that you've ever worn out in public?

Anything with the slightest heel in my hilly village full of cobblestone streets.

Question: Just how creative are you?

Sooooo creative? I do think outside the box, and I’m decent at most artsy type things like drawing, painting, music, etc., but I'd love to be much better at all of them. My to-learn/to-improve list is a long one.

Question: What quotation(s) and/or motivational phrase(s) do you live by?

Two major ones: (1) Everything happens for a reason. My grandmother told me this when I was very young, and it’s gotten me through many a tough time; and (2) Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Doesn't get more simple and true than that.

Now here are the rules of this interview meme:

1. Leave me a comment saying “Interview me." (If you don't feel comfortable putting your e-mail address in the comments, please directly send me a message to the address on my sidebar.)

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Come on, you know you want to play!

And now some entirely unrelated photos.

P happens to be painting the school where I work, but he's in a part of it that I had never seen before--this place is huge with dormitories and everything.

So the other day I embarrassed P to no end casually took some shots around his work area this week.

Buon weekend!

sunday scribblings: ocean

Prompt #58: Ocean

Ah, the ocean. Many have fond memories of going to the beach as a child, frolicking in the sand, building sandcastles, getting tossed around in the waves.

Not me.

I remember going to Atlantic City with my grandmother once when I was small, but we didn't actually get near the water as it was too cold. And yes, for those in the Mid-Atlantic region of the US, I'm talking about "going to the shore" here. Cheesesteaks optional but advised.

So my first time near a large body of water was in college when some friends and I went to Morehead City (accent on the first syllable; make your own jokes please), North Carolina. Is that possible? Nearly 20 years of my life without knowing the ocean?

Entirely. From the middle of Pennsylvania, where I am from, the ocean is several hours away; those from the Midwest may have even more dramatic horror stories. Add to that a family that was never, say, enamored with the water or vacations, and it's not too hard to understand. Of course it is a bit strange if you consider that I now live minutes from the crystal clear Ionian Sea, a northern Italian and European holiday hotspot.


So when I was 19 years old, I got thrown around by the waves of the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. Scary at the start, but then simply glorious. Being flipped and turned beyond your control really puts the world into perspective for anyone, let alone a 19-year-old college kid.

I remember feeling so small, insignificant, powerless. And happy. Deliriously happy.

It was the perfect time to feel and understand that I was just a tiny piece of the larger puzzle of the world. At the time, I was attending an ultra-competitive university with students who often fit every stereotype you could imagine; it was easy to get suckered into thinking that every decision, including actually eating dinner instead of having half of a plain baked potato, would affect my Entire Future.

Should I continue with German? Should I double major? Should I break down and take a math course? Can I fit in another part-time job? This was critical stuff!

Having nothing to do but lie on the beach, read some novels, and frolic, yes frolic, in the water was the perfect wind-down to another physically and emotionally draining school year; as it turned out, my introduction to the ocean happened exactly when I needed it and, perhaps more importantly, when I was ready to accept it.

I think that when you haven't grown up with something, your adult years can either find you strangely drawn toward it or still keeping your distance.

With the ocean, I'm somewhere in between. I'm not afraid of the water, although I'll admit I'm not entirely comfortable on a boat where I can no longer see land. If you haven't guessed, I've never been on a cruise, but I'd welcome the chance if, you know, I won one or something.

On the other hand, I'm definitely not addicted to the sea either--a minor sin here, in fact, where I'm asked nearly every day in the summer if I had gone "al mare," to the sea. Thank goodness I found P, who isn't appassionato either, proving one of P's (and now my) favorite sayings: "Dio li fa e poi li accoppia." This is the equivalent of our "birds of a feather flock together," but literally (and much prettier, I think): "God makes them and then matches them up."

So while not al mare every day, I do enjoy quiet times at the beach when there are few others around. Lucky for me, Italians are quite rigid on when they go to the beach, so those early March and late September days? The beach and the moist, salty air? Pretty much all mine.


I imagine this might change a bit if I have children, though, because I would want them to be comfortable with the water and have all those sweet, frolicky memories that so many others have--although building sandcastles probably isn't going to happen on our beaches here.


And so, I am at peace with the fact that the ocean and I have a bit of a strained relationship. I wouldn't die if I wasn't near it, but then again, that crisp, fresh air and cool water feels oh so good when the sun is warming my cheeks and shoulders (properly covered in sunscreen, of course).

But for now I'll continue to take it in small doses until the Ionian, which surely knows more than I, pulls me to know it a little better.

And then I will open myself up to whatever it has to offer.

P.S. You can find more images of the sea here.