Dates: January 29-30, 2009
To make a long story short, I did not end up cooking dinner for the Italians because Mom forgot to send me an ingredients list. We did however, end up going to the store, and I finally got some hand lotion for my very dry hands, and was able to check a few other things off my “to buy” list, like a plant. I bought a peace lily that same day, and named her “Lucky Lucy”. I thought about giving it a male name, but quickly decided I was surrounded by too many little men right now, and what I really needed was a lady. The rest of the 29th was spent planning my outing in Arezzo for the following day. It took me a long time to find exactly what I needed on the internet, and was utterly dumfounded when I found out I cannot order anything online here. If I order something from an American website, like a webcam, I can ship it to Italy, but I have to worry whether customs will just take it, or whether they will not. And of course, on top of all this, Alice and Alfonso never check to see if there is any mail at the cat food store in Rigutino, so I probably would not know when it came in anyway. Then, I thought I would simply order from an Italian website. Well, I cannot do that either because none of my credit cards have a billing address in Italy. When I asked Alice and Alfonso if I could just use their card and pay them cash in hand, Alfonso told me he would rather me go to the computer stores around here just to make sure I get what I want. The problem with this is that none of the computer stores around here carry the camera I want, so I just said never mind and gave up my search.
People are really disconnected here. There are lots of people who do not have computers in their homes, and even more who are afraid, like Alice and Alfonso, to buy from the internet. It seems so bazaar to me, but what can you do. The only good part about this day was that, for dinner, the family decided to go out for pizza. We went about twenty minutes down the road to a little restaurant owned by Alfonso’s longtime friend. The food was good, but the company was better. Just moments after we arrived, another family, a mom and her daughter, stepped in. They all seemed to know each other right away, and I got started talking with the mom and daughter during dinner. Turns out the daughter, Elisa, is in middle school and taking English, Spanish, and German. I tried talking to her a little in English, but she was pretty embarrassed so I just talked in Italian most of the time. I was really happy to at least have the opportunity to talk with someone young. I also really liked the mother as well. Towards the end of the meal I told Elisa I would give her my email, and she could contact me if she was interested in meeting up in Arezzo. I told her she did not have to, but if she wanted, we could talk in English or Italian for a while after she was out of school. Her mom seemed really enthusiastic, and she seemed a little nervous. I do not know if she will actually get in touch with me, but I hope so.
The only other thing good to come out of this day was getting to watch an Italian TV show called “Scherzi a Parte”, basically “Punk’d”. It’s a group of people who play practical jokes on famous Italian people. I thought it was really funny, and it was very easy for me to understand. I could have stayed there watching it all night. The problem here is Alice does not like for the TV to be on, and for Elia to be watching it. Alfonso watches a little every night, but other than that, the TV is never on. So, I do not think I will get the chance to watch the TV show again, but maybe if I make some more friends, I can go over to their house to watch TV. Honestly, I do not see what is so wrong with TV anyway.
The next day was much much better. I woke up at eight, quickly got dressed and was out the door in about an hour with Alice and Elia. I had my day all planned out, and Alice dropped me off at my first destination in Arezzo, and then went off to run some errands and do the shopping for the restaurant. The baby boutique was awesome, and like most high end places in Italy, not everything is displayed for the window shopper. I went into the store, and the girl working was very friendly. I told her I was looking for something for my sister’s baby who wanted something very fabulous from Italy. She started showing me some puffer coats, and actually pulled out a white one with an all white fur trim collar. I thought it was pretty, but told her she was going to have a boy. “This IS for a boy she said, it’s very in fashion” she confirmed. “Clearly I know nothing about children” I said. Then I asked to see some things for the baby bed. That’s when the good stuff came out. I cannot reveal exactly what I have bought, it being a gift and all. All I can say is: I am going back to the store next week.
All in all I was done with my errands in Arezzo in about forty minutes. Since I had planned so well, I did not get lost and was able to buy a bookmark, a card, some more Clinique stuff, and baby clothes in a flash. I walked around the town for about two hours, just stopping here and there to see what was going on. I did end up taking a few photos, but I do not think I will post them until I know exactly what they are of. Next time I go to Arezzo, I will make sure I have some tourist info so I know exactly what I am looking at. The day started off so well, when I came back to Castiglion by train I was thinking I could really make this work. Certainly I was a little detached from the world, but I did really like Arezzo, and if I could get out more often things would just be better. Elia was still not allowing my presence, but now Alice was seeing how patient I was with him and how he never wanted me to help him, or play with him. Several times in the past few days she has said to him “Casey is very nice to you, and you are being very rude”. He never responds to this in any way, and within a few minutes life goes back to the way it was. Still, I thought this would be enough to kick start his getting along with me. That night though, was quite different. Alice said, to us both, at dinner how we needed to be patient, and how Elia needed to be good for me, blah blah blah. I was getting pretty sick and tired of hearing how “patient” I needed to be when I had never once yelled at him, forced him to do something he did not want to do, or get mad when he was rude to me. Still, I just kept my trap shut. Maybe it just made her feel better to say that to me.
When she left that night, he started wailing like always and I immediately turned on the TV. Alfonso came in not five minutes later and was clearly upset the TV was running. I told him the situation, how I always turn on the TV for a few minutes after he or Alice leaves, and he made of a point of stress just how little TV he wanted his son to watch. I told him I understood that, but this was very calming for him. Once dad was home, I could turn off the TV without any problems, and did just that. Yet, not three minutes later, Alfonso comes in to put the humidifier mask on Elia, for his cough, and immediately turns on the TV. This mask is something Elia hates, and the only way to get him to sit still is to turn on the TV. While Alfonso was doing this I made a point to comment on how good the TV was in situations like this (Elia was crying at the time). He just did a kind of nod and put the mask on Elia. After the medicine had been inhaled, Alfonso tried to turn off the TV, but Elia started crying. So he said, “okay just for five more minutes”, then left me with him and went to take a shower. After five minutes I turned off the TV, and of course he started crying. I tried to play with him, do everything that had been suggested to me. Still he would not stop crying. Alfonso left not too long after that, and I was able to get him to remain calm for about ten minutes before he started wailing for his mother. Clearly, it was time for the TV again. Not two minutes after it was on Alfonso came BACK up and was clearly peeved the TV was on again. I told him we had been playing but then Elia had started crying so I thought I would turn on the TV for just a minute. Elia had even sat down at the table to eat a little chicken and carrots before the crying fit started. This was not good enough for Alfonso and told me how it was important that tonight he not cry at all and that I needed to make funny faces for him and do this and do that. Well, I was sick of this man telling me to do things I was already doing, so when he told me for a second time how I needed to make funny faces I told him I did that, and I did sing to him, and I did hold him close to me, and I did pat his back, and I did always speak to him in Italian first and then English to make sure he understood me, and I did try to interest him with toys, and that he stilled cries. While he was there he would think of something else I could do, and I would confirm that I was already doing it. Alfonso left then, and Alice came to bring dinner, leaving it in the entry way like she always does. He ate for about fifteen minutes peacefully, then heard his mom and dad talking below, and thus began the one and a half hours of screaming, dribbling snot, and rolling tears. Mostly all he wanted was to be held, so I picked him up, and let his head rest on my shoulder, when I happened to pull him away to wipe his nose, there was a lake of snot of my shoulder. I sat him down, took off my V-neck sweater, and picked him back up, wiping his nose constantly. I put on some music, and he just did his best to wail over that. There were points when he would stop for a few minutes, but only to start again with renewed vigor. And, you would think a two year old would forget what exactly they are screaming about. Elia kept screaming Momma, Momma, Momma for the whole hour and a half. What he wanted, part of the time, was for me to turn the TV back on, but I was not about to get in trouble again with Alfonso and his surprise inspections. So I told Elia his mother said we could not watch the TV and of course this only brought on more screams. The only reason he stopped was because he had reached his breaking point. We sat together on the couch while he half heartedly turned the pages of a book in front of him. When I realized it was time to get him in bed, there was no fuss, we were both too tired. Since I had already changed his diaper when he was screaming, I just checked this one, and it was fine, I put PJs on him, and then Mom came in. He was happy to see her, but did not wail like normal (I guess there were no tears left). Alice asked me how things went and I told her everything. She was sad to hear it. The house was a wreck, I had not even had a moment to clean up after dinner, so I got started working on that while she told him how he needed to be good for me, and that she needed to work, etc. I was clearly weary, and she looked at me telling me to be tranquil. I stopped. I told her, in a reasonable voice I was always tranquil with him and that I never raised my voice, and that I always had patience with him, always. She nodded. I told Alice he was clearly unhappy with me, and how there are some people, that for whatever reason, babies just do not like, and that I might just be one of those people to him. She started to tell me no, but I told her yes. I have seen things like this before, and I know that some people a child will just not bond with. I told her how when she is gone, I can either take him down to see her at work, or I can turn on the TV, anything else, and he just cries. I told her that I wanted him to be happy, and it was clear he was not right now. At that she said perhaps it would be good if I spent more time with him. Like tomorrow she would leave him with me for twenty minutes, and then in a few more hours, I would have him for thirty. I did not say anything to this suggestion, but what I was thinking was “please God, no!” Dante wrote that the lowest ring of hell was a barren frozen wasteland where the devil watched over the people who were frozen up to their necks in ice. Well, clearly Dante had never been around a screaming two year old. I am not calling this child the devil, far from it, I just mean that I have exhausted every possible means to make him happy and to get him to want to play with me, and all he wants is his mom or the TV.
What I want to do is call the other family and ask if they still need someone to work for them. I mean, I love Arezzo, and I love Alice, and the mountain is a fun little place to hang out. But the truth is, I dread every time I have to be alone with Elia, and I can only imagine what the summer is going to be like, being with him every day. I mean, I cannot do that; the snot, the screaming, the inconsolability. Something is going to have to change.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Some Photos (Don't Forget To Read the Posts Below!)
Inside my small loft.
Luna was certainly ready for someone to go out with her.
Not very beautiful and green here, yet.
View of the mountain from the park.
A little baby goat.
A view from the hiking trail to the valley below.
Some moss covered trees in the woods.
Can you tell where the trail is???
An upclose photo of some moss on a rock.
I had to make my mark somewhere...
My Room. Look in the picture below to see exactly where I stand.
This is a picture of the house, you can see the spouts up front where people fill their plastic bottles.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
This Is Italy, Nothing Is Fast (and) Cashmere Scarf, Muddy Forest… Anyone Else See A Problem Here?
Date: January 26, 2009
I am sad because I have yet to receive any mail from my pen pals, and as I was talking to Alice about this she said it would most likely be best if I told all my friends while I am in Italy, do not expect my letters to arrive in anything remotely resembling a timely fashion. I really hope they do not think I have given up on them. I just do not understand the Italians in this respect. I understand not working so many hours in a day, and taking time to enjoy life, but this does not excuse laziness. Why cannot you work hard while you work, and still enjoy life? This is not so difficult. Most people think of Italians as leading a slow life, purposefully, and taking time to enjoy simple pleasures. What it really amounts to is a nation of people who do not go to bed until midnight or one, who sleep late, do not go to church on Sundays, and who cannot get any work done out of sheer laziness. These people need to get on the ball. Take my furnace for example. Every night it turns on at a different time (oh yeah, you thought you could control the heat in your own house? I do not think so! This is government regulated baby!). Last night I went to bed close to midnight, and the thing was ice cold, tonight I came in at nine and it was blowin’ and goin’. What it amounts to is, if the man who is suppose to turn on your heat decides he is going out with his buddies, or taking a cigarette break before work has even started, you are stuck waiting on him for heat. It is crazy to me how people accept this kind of treatment. I mean, a man has the right to turn on the heat in his own home if he wants too!
I have been cold almost every day. Jason, even though it is below freezing there, I would rather it be colder here and at least be snowing, but all this rain and humid, bone-chilling cold is too much.
Today I woke up at nine-why can no one invent felt covered Legos?-and rolled out of bed. It is slowly becoming easier and easier to get myself up in the mornings, but I still feel like I am not getting enough sleep. I threw on some clothes, ate a little breakfast, and got ready to go to Arezzo for the day. However, it turns out Alice and her friend decided to meet tomorrow, and so we were to go to Castiglion Fiorentino after Elia’s nap to look for some warm house shoes, and some galoshes. I also told Alice I wanted a winter hat and maybe one or two plants for my room (maybe they will make it a little more cheery). It rained hard all day long. The contents of the fridge have been dwindling, and today, for both lunch and dinner, we ate leftover antipasti from the restaurant. I wonder when we will go back to the store. I have a little list going of things I need as well, so I hope it will be soon. Lunch was uneventful. Elia did learn, however, how to get more attention from Alice by pouring all of his water into the cup part of his plastic bib. At first I thought these little bibs were great, they caught the food your baby does not get in his mouth, and there is not as much of a mess to clean up. Now he knows he can just let food slide out his mouth like some sort of avalanche into this little safety net, and to make things worse he now adds water to the mix. And, if you think it could not get any grosser, you are wrong; he likes to play with the spongy food and water by dipping his hands in the little trough. Gross, but he has been doing a lot of bad things lately to get Alice’s attention. I just do not pay much attention to him anymore, when I am not helping Alice, or talking to mom, I am doing my own thing, and leaving Elia to annoy his mother and not me. Maybe once it stops raining I will take him for a walk in the mornings or afternoons so Alice can have a little time off. But, knowing Alice, she would just want to tag along.
After Elia’s nap we put on our coats and were off to Amanda’s, Alice’s sister-in-law, house. I had thought we were going to drop Elia off while we went into Castiglion to buy the things I was looking for; however, most of the time I am confused about what we are doing, so when I ended up being dead wrong, well, it was no surprise to me. Amanda is a native Texan who has lived in Italy for over 15 years. She and her husband had recently bought a home in Castiglion Fiorentino, but because they were having it renovated, they had to move into a rent house. She had asked her friend Debbie to come to Italy from College Station to help her with the move. Debbie was funny, but very obviously exhausted. She told me all they had done since she arrived was move. When I met her, she was scheduled to fly out of Rome at nine the next morning, and consequently, would be on the 4am train. Who knew the trains even ran that early in Italy?! (Of course, they are all automated so I guess it is not so much of a shock)We ended up staying at Amanda’s house for an hour and a half while Elia played with his cousin Ross. Ross is a very sweet boy, three years old, who speaks in both English and Italian fluently. It was so odd to watch Elia interact with him. Ross is a sweet kid, not really very sharing, but always trying to capture Elia’s interest. I came to realize how different Italian parenting must be when Ross, who was playing with a toy helicopter, caught Elia’s attention. Suddenly, Elia wanted the toy NOW. He tried to snatch it from Ross’ hands, and when Ross would not relinquish it, he cried and went to his mother, tugging at her hand and pointing at Ross. Knowing what he wanted, she reached over to Ross and took the toy from his hand and gave it to Elia. Keep in mind all this happened in front of Amanda, and she said nothing. Maybe this is just okay in the Italian culture, or Amanda knows how Alice likes to parent and just does not want to publicly reprimand her. I cannot think of a single American mother who would think it okay for another mother to take a toy out of her child’s hands to give to their own. Still, I guess you have to be a different kind of American to be willing to live, even give birth, in a foreign country. I thought Debbie, Amanda’s friend, was nice, but as we were driving home I realized she had reprimanded me during our conversation. This happens to me a lot I think, people try to stick up their nose to me and somehow, I just miss it. Anyway, we had been talking about something in Alice’s house, and Debbie commented on how strange it sounded to call (Ah-Lee-shay) (Al-is). “OH” I said to her, “I guess I just switch the pronunciation when I talk about her in English, and when I talk to her in Italian. It’s all the same I guess.” “Well,” she said “not to her I guess. I never understood why people change names, like Firenze, how did people start calling it Florence? I mean, I guess I could understand if we said it in some messed up Italian form, but a whole different word?” “Well,” I told her “when I first heard about Alice, Vanessa wrote her name in an email, and I did not even think to try and pronounce it in Italian. I just read it and saw ‘Alice’. Then when I met her, Vanessa made a point to tell me her name is (A-lee-shay). I guess it is just habit to switch back and forth.” “Well, I guess I can see how that could be confusing, just having read it in an email.” That was the end of the conversation, and I did think about it more, and honestly, I just do not see the problem. I mean, if my name were Mary, everyone here would be calling me Maria. Alice has never taken offense to me using the American form of her name, and more to the point, I never use the American form of her name when I am speaking to her, so what is the big deal? People just wanting to prance around town on their high horse I guess.
After our visit ended, Alice quickly pulled into a discount shoe store, think DSW but on a much much smaller level with no atmosphere and not as good of a selection, where I bought some plain black galoshes, and some house shoes, which are one size too small, but still fit my feet ok. There were plenty other house shoes to choose from, but these were the only ones that were like actual shoes, all the others were just slippers, and I knew they would not keep my feet warm, so I picked the smaller pair, and was on my way. It cost me 30 Euros for both. It was almost completely dark when we first arrived at Amanda’s so now it was pitch black. At this point, after I had bought my shoes, I knew we would not be buying any plants or a hat today. This is the essence of the Italian way. In America, if you had a foreigner who said, well I would like to buy this and this and so and so, then we would immediately hop in the car and take them to buy everything they wanted that day. In Italy, maybe, with the help of God, your family will take you to buy some of the things you want, and then tomorrow, maybe you will go out or maybe not. How they decide what they will and will not do is completely a mystery to me.
Tomorrow, however, we are going to Arezzo and I am hoping, really hoping Alice will take me to buy a hat, a plant or two, and maybe she can show me some little shop where I can get some hand lotion. My hands are becoming so dry, the skin on the fingertips is snagging on my clothes.
Date January 27, 2009
First of all, let me apologize. I know I did not make a new post yesterday, and so I am doing a double post today, and you will need to start towards the end of this post to read the post I meant for yesterday.
Why is it that whenever you get what you wish for, it is almost never a blessing? This morning I woke up at 915 to a belligerent phone. Twice someone called and the phone just rang and rang. This of course woke me up. As I was rolling over to go back to sleep it suddenly occurred to me I did not hear anyone else in the house. Then I started worrying, ‘Perhaps Alice and Elia have gone out to the store or something and she has forgotten her key and they are trying to wake me up’ (keep in mind I never ever answer the telephone). So, I got up and tip toed downstairs. Everything was still closed and dark, Alice’s door was closed, as was Elia’s, I checked outside to see if Alice’s car was there-it was-, and so I crept back up to bed. By then though, I could not fall back asleep, so I just lay awake waiting to hear some movement, hoping that I was not missing some important bit of information. Sure enough, Alice got up around 1030, and proceeded to wake up Elia. Who could have imagined, I, the person complaining about the noise every morning, could not sleep for the silence!
Anyway, breakfast was late this morning, around 11am. Then Alice planned to take Elia to see his grandparents, Alfonso’s parents. She asked me if I wanted to go, but said I could stay at the house if I wanted. Wanting some time to myself, and time to enjoy the sun which was out in full force, I opted out. They were gone in about fifteen minutes, and I was left to myself. I made up my bed, reorganized my desk, and generally just took in a peaceful quiet morning. I pulled on some clothes, my jacket, my scarf, snagged my camera, and was out the door. I did end up wearing my new galoshes today, I knew walking around the park was still going to be very muddy, and they worked great. I did have to roll down the legs-my calves are just too big for the top of the boot-but it did not turn out to be a problem. I was ready to rock and roll. I stepped outside, for the first time in days, and found Luna sitting by the door, as if she were waiting for me. Together we walked through the park and found a trail leading to the top of Monte Lingnano. I only hiked up the trail for 40 minutes before I decided to turn back to the house for lunch. Still, the whole time I followed Luna, my guide –she seemed to know exactly where she was going –and I got out of the house on my own for a while. About half way through my walk, the road started disappearing in the mud. I slipped several times, and by the third time I realized it was probably not a good idea to have worn my nice Italian cashmere scarf, my Ray Bans, AND my two thousand dollar camera! Next time I will know to only wear the things I can get dirty, and to take my camera along with me in its bag so I have both hands free. I was really amazed as I was walking. I was so far away from everything else the wind had its own sound. I can see now how the Indians crept around the soft forest ground without making any noise. Sometimes, the silence is just so loud in your head, that’s all you can hear. I turned back, wanting to be on time for lunch, calling for Luna to come along. She was not having any part of it, and kept going on her own way. Going back without her was a little more scary. I was just about to stop to make sure I was still on the right path, half of the trail had been lost in the mud, so my hiking consisted of trying to walk at an incline on the muddy mountain, when Luna came bursting from behind me. She ran until she was a little distance ahead of me, and I followed her. I guess I lost my faith in her right before we reached the park because when I saw her standing under this fallen tree, I knew instantly it was the wrong way to go. It was not the path I had taken to get up the mountain. I tried calling her back to me, but she just stood there, wanting me to follow. I was worried about getting lost, and decided to not follow her, but go by the trail back to the house. Luna never caught up with me. By the time I got back to the house, Alice and Elia had just arrived, and low and behold, Luna was laying on the ground by the car, chewing on some old bone like she had been lounging there for hours. I was amazed she had made it back before I did, and I now know I will not question her judgment again. Clearly she knows the area better than I do.
Lunch consisted of the great American delicacy, hamburgers. In Italy however, when you cook hamburgers, there is no burger, just the ham. Alice cooked up plain hamburger patties, made cooked carrots and cauliflower, and that was it. She did have mayonnaise, mustard, and ketchup to put on the patties, but you can forget about cheese, bread, lettuce, tomato, onion. It was so strange to me, but I ate two patties, and thanked her for the meal. Oddly enough, she will not let Elia eat anything remotely spicy. She does not even cook with any pepper. He really wanted ketchup and mustard, but she said she did not want him to eat anything too spicy because she was worried it might mess with his digestion. So, Elia only ate mayo on his patty.
After Elia’s nap we were all packed up and ready to go to Alice’s friend’s house. She just had a baby girl (20 days old), and Alice had stopped by to give her a gift. A quick stop, to an Italian woman is generally about an hour and a half long, and as it was late in the evening, this was a “quick stop”. The moment I stepped into this woman’s house I was amazed. Her house was clearly newer and nicer. Certainly I did not see any corners of dust, or varmints running around. The floors were off white tile, the windows were much nicer than Alice’s, and seemingly somewhat more energy efficient. She offered us a coffee, the typical gesture for anyone entertaining guests, and of course Alice and I both said we would like a cup. Now, Alice and Alfonso drink strong espresso, but with a little sugar and cream it is fine. Their coffee is so strong (when I say coffee I mean espresso) it tastes bitterer than anything else. Well, Alice and Alfonso do not hold a candle to this woman. The espresso she handed me only filled about a fourth of the espresso cup, and was like tar it was so bitter. I put more sugar in it, hoping to mask the flavor, but all that seemed to do was intensify it. In the end I just had to slam it. There was no way I was going to sip on it and finish while it was still warm. Aside from the assaulting espresso, the woman, and her husband were very nice. They did not talk to me too much, but the grandmother asked me how things were going in the USA what with Obama haven taken office, and I told her we will see. I talked to her a little, and told her the popular vote for president had been very close, almost half and half, so it had been a very crazy election. People all over the world seem to think he is the second coming, and I cannot help but wonder. People put on such a high pedestal can never stay balanced there for long, and I wonder how he will end up falling from grace. No one can stand so high for long.
When we arrived back at the house it was already dark. Alfonso was already home, so quickly Alice made her way into the kitchen and began throwing something together (Alfonso never cooks). She put together another amazingly simple pasta dish, which I will be posting at the end of this entry, and it also tasted wonderful. By the time we were done, there was no more pasta left in the bowl. Somehow, American cooking became the subject at the dinner table. Before I knew it, Alice and Alfonso were asking me to cook something American for them for dinner tomorrow night. I had told them both I was no cook, but still they asked me to cook for them. So, I called mom trying to think of things which I could cook well without a lot of stress, and we came up with a few dishes for me to try. I think it is a little odd they want me, a person who does not really cook, to cook something American for them. Plus everything is even harder hear than it is at home because Alice, as you know, does not like to have modern equipment in her kitchen, and to pull out something like chicken fried steak, requires a lot of work, and at the very least, a skillet. Well, maybe it will all work out okay. Mom had mentioned the idea of me making a pineapple upside down cake (be still my beating heart), but again, Alice does not have a skillet so I would have to figure out some other way to make one.
Oh, and here is one little funny tidbit: Here, they call ‘corn’ mais, pronounced “mice”, when Alice was looking through her pantry for something to cook for dinner on evening, she looked at me and said, ‘maybe we could eat mice…’. My shocked face must have stopped her. She could not figure out what I was so upset about. I said “Mice? Like the little animals that eat cheese?” She started laughing uncontrollably. “No, no, no” she said “Mais, then she picked up a jar of corn, showing me what she meant. I was relieved and told her “Oh my, I thought you meant mice, like ‘topolino’”. She started laughing uncontrollably, and now she ever makes an effort to say ‘corn’ to me, or cannot stop herself from laughing when she says ‘mais’.
We are making a trip to the grocery store tomorrow-finally some hand cream!!- so I will let you know how the dinner works out tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Here is the recipe:
Fusilli Pasta with Crushed Tomatoes and Olive Oil
Fusilli Pasta (you judge how much you want by how many are eating. Maybe two cups dry for three people)
20 (give or take) small tomatoes (I think they are called cherry tomatoes, they are small and oblong in shape)
1/2 cup of Olive Oil
2 cloves garlic (minced)
Salt
Alice used a wok looking dish to make this sauce, one, becuase it would hold both the pasta and the sauce, and two, because it helped make the sauce more concentrated. However, if you do not have a wok, a large sautee pan should do fine.
Heat the oil to medium high to high heat. Next add the salt and garlic, and finally the tomatoes. Let the tomatoes cook as they are for about four or five minutes, then begin crushing them, either with a fork or a wooden spoon. You should crush them all, but leave enough large bits of tomato so the sauce is a little chunky. Heat the pasta water, add plenty of salt to the water, and cook the pasta as instructed on the box. After finished cooking, drain the pasta (no need to shake out all of the excess water) and dump the hot pasta into your sautee pan. Leave the heat on and toss the pasta and sauce for about a minute or two. Then turn off the heat, add about a fourth a cup of Parmesean cheese, and toss. Sprinkle the top with a little more cheese and serve. The sauce will look thin, but the tomatoes give the oil a great flavor and you should have a very tasty dish. If you think you are running out of oil, simply add some more, along with a few more tomatoes. You cannot really cook this sauce too long, but all in all, I think Alice only cooked her's for 15, give or take, minutes. You do not want to fry your tomatoes, only cook and crush so they will release that nice acid taste.
Hope you enjoy!!
I am sad because I have yet to receive any mail from my pen pals, and as I was talking to Alice about this she said it would most likely be best if I told all my friends while I am in Italy, do not expect my letters to arrive in anything remotely resembling a timely fashion. I really hope they do not think I have given up on them. I just do not understand the Italians in this respect. I understand not working so many hours in a day, and taking time to enjoy life, but this does not excuse laziness. Why cannot you work hard while you work, and still enjoy life? This is not so difficult. Most people think of Italians as leading a slow life, purposefully, and taking time to enjoy simple pleasures. What it really amounts to is a nation of people who do not go to bed until midnight or one, who sleep late, do not go to church on Sundays, and who cannot get any work done out of sheer laziness. These people need to get on the ball. Take my furnace for example. Every night it turns on at a different time (oh yeah, you thought you could control the heat in your own house? I do not think so! This is government regulated baby!). Last night I went to bed close to midnight, and the thing was ice cold, tonight I came in at nine and it was blowin’ and goin’. What it amounts to is, if the man who is suppose to turn on your heat decides he is going out with his buddies, or taking a cigarette break before work has even started, you are stuck waiting on him for heat. It is crazy to me how people accept this kind of treatment. I mean, a man has the right to turn on the heat in his own home if he wants too!
I have been cold almost every day. Jason, even though it is below freezing there, I would rather it be colder here and at least be snowing, but all this rain and humid, bone-chilling cold is too much.
Today I woke up at nine-why can no one invent felt covered Legos?-and rolled out of bed. It is slowly becoming easier and easier to get myself up in the mornings, but I still feel like I am not getting enough sleep. I threw on some clothes, ate a little breakfast, and got ready to go to Arezzo for the day. However, it turns out Alice and her friend decided to meet tomorrow, and so we were to go to Castiglion Fiorentino after Elia’s nap to look for some warm house shoes, and some galoshes. I also told Alice I wanted a winter hat and maybe one or two plants for my room (maybe they will make it a little more cheery). It rained hard all day long. The contents of the fridge have been dwindling, and today, for both lunch and dinner, we ate leftover antipasti from the restaurant. I wonder when we will go back to the store. I have a little list going of things I need as well, so I hope it will be soon. Lunch was uneventful. Elia did learn, however, how to get more attention from Alice by pouring all of his water into the cup part of his plastic bib. At first I thought these little bibs were great, they caught the food your baby does not get in his mouth, and there is not as much of a mess to clean up. Now he knows he can just let food slide out his mouth like some sort of avalanche into this little safety net, and to make things worse he now adds water to the mix. And, if you think it could not get any grosser, you are wrong; he likes to play with the spongy food and water by dipping his hands in the little trough. Gross, but he has been doing a lot of bad things lately to get Alice’s attention. I just do not pay much attention to him anymore, when I am not helping Alice, or talking to mom, I am doing my own thing, and leaving Elia to annoy his mother and not me. Maybe once it stops raining I will take him for a walk in the mornings or afternoons so Alice can have a little time off. But, knowing Alice, she would just want to tag along.
After Elia’s nap we put on our coats and were off to Amanda’s, Alice’s sister-in-law, house. I had thought we were going to drop Elia off while we went into Castiglion to buy the things I was looking for; however, most of the time I am confused about what we are doing, so when I ended up being dead wrong, well, it was no surprise to me. Amanda is a native Texan who has lived in Italy for over 15 years. She and her husband had recently bought a home in Castiglion Fiorentino, but because they were having it renovated, they had to move into a rent house. She had asked her friend Debbie to come to Italy from College Station to help her with the move. Debbie was funny, but very obviously exhausted. She told me all they had done since she arrived was move. When I met her, she was scheduled to fly out of Rome at nine the next morning, and consequently, would be on the 4am train. Who knew the trains even ran that early in Italy?! (Of course, they are all automated so I guess it is not so much of a shock)We ended up staying at Amanda’s house for an hour and a half while Elia played with his cousin Ross. Ross is a very sweet boy, three years old, who speaks in both English and Italian fluently. It was so odd to watch Elia interact with him. Ross is a sweet kid, not really very sharing, but always trying to capture Elia’s interest. I came to realize how different Italian parenting must be when Ross, who was playing with a toy helicopter, caught Elia’s attention. Suddenly, Elia wanted the toy NOW. He tried to snatch it from Ross’ hands, and when Ross would not relinquish it, he cried and went to his mother, tugging at her hand and pointing at Ross. Knowing what he wanted, she reached over to Ross and took the toy from his hand and gave it to Elia. Keep in mind all this happened in front of Amanda, and she said nothing. Maybe this is just okay in the Italian culture, or Amanda knows how Alice likes to parent and just does not want to publicly reprimand her. I cannot think of a single American mother who would think it okay for another mother to take a toy out of her child’s hands to give to their own. Still, I guess you have to be a different kind of American to be willing to live, even give birth, in a foreign country. I thought Debbie, Amanda’s friend, was nice, but as we were driving home I realized she had reprimanded me during our conversation. This happens to me a lot I think, people try to stick up their nose to me and somehow, I just miss it. Anyway, we had been talking about something in Alice’s house, and Debbie commented on how strange it sounded to call (Ah-Lee-shay) (Al-is). “OH” I said to her, “I guess I just switch the pronunciation when I talk about her in English, and when I talk to her in Italian. It’s all the same I guess.” “Well,” she said “not to her I guess. I never understood why people change names, like Firenze, how did people start calling it Florence? I mean, I guess I could understand if we said it in some messed up Italian form, but a whole different word?” “Well,” I told her “when I first heard about Alice, Vanessa wrote her name in an email, and I did not even think to try and pronounce it in Italian. I just read it and saw ‘Alice’. Then when I met her, Vanessa made a point to tell me her name is (A-lee-shay). I guess it is just habit to switch back and forth.” “Well, I guess I can see how that could be confusing, just having read it in an email.” That was the end of the conversation, and I did think about it more, and honestly, I just do not see the problem. I mean, if my name were Mary, everyone here would be calling me Maria. Alice has never taken offense to me using the American form of her name, and more to the point, I never use the American form of her name when I am speaking to her, so what is the big deal? People just wanting to prance around town on their high horse I guess.
After our visit ended, Alice quickly pulled into a discount shoe store, think DSW but on a much much smaller level with no atmosphere and not as good of a selection, where I bought some plain black galoshes, and some house shoes, which are one size too small, but still fit my feet ok. There were plenty other house shoes to choose from, but these were the only ones that were like actual shoes, all the others were just slippers, and I knew they would not keep my feet warm, so I picked the smaller pair, and was on my way. It cost me 30 Euros for both. It was almost completely dark when we first arrived at Amanda’s so now it was pitch black. At this point, after I had bought my shoes, I knew we would not be buying any plants or a hat today. This is the essence of the Italian way. In America, if you had a foreigner who said, well I would like to buy this and this and so and so, then we would immediately hop in the car and take them to buy everything they wanted that day. In Italy, maybe, with the help of God, your family will take you to buy some of the things you want, and then tomorrow, maybe you will go out or maybe not. How they decide what they will and will not do is completely a mystery to me.
Tomorrow, however, we are going to Arezzo and I am hoping, really hoping Alice will take me to buy a hat, a plant or two, and maybe she can show me some little shop where I can get some hand lotion. My hands are becoming so dry, the skin on the fingertips is snagging on my clothes.
Date January 27, 2009
First of all, let me apologize. I know I did not make a new post yesterday, and so I am doing a double post today, and you will need to start towards the end of this post to read the post I meant for yesterday.
Why is it that whenever you get what you wish for, it is almost never a blessing? This morning I woke up at 915 to a belligerent phone. Twice someone called and the phone just rang and rang. This of course woke me up. As I was rolling over to go back to sleep it suddenly occurred to me I did not hear anyone else in the house. Then I started worrying, ‘Perhaps Alice and Elia have gone out to the store or something and she has forgotten her key and they are trying to wake me up’ (keep in mind I never ever answer the telephone). So, I got up and tip toed downstairs. Everything was still closed and dark, Alice’s door was closed, as was Elia’s, I checked outside to see if Alice’s car was there-it was-, and so I crept back up to bed. By then though, I could not fall back asleep, so I just lay awake waiting to hear some movement, hoping that I was not missing some important bit of information. Sure enough, Alice got up around 1030, and proceeded to wake up Elia. Who could have imagined, I, the person complaining about the noise every morning, could not sleep for the silence!
Anyway, breakfast was late this morning, around 11am. Then Alice planned to take Elia to see his grandparents, Alfonso’s parents. She asked me if I wanted to go, but said I could stay at the house if I wanted. Wanting some time to myself, and time to enjoy the sun which was out in full force, I opted out. They were gone in about fifteen minutes, and I was left to myself. I made up my bed, reorganized my desk, and generally just took in a peaceful quiet morning. I pulled on some clothes, my jacket, my scarf, snagged my camera, and was out the door. I did end up wearing my new galoshes today, I knew walking around the park was still going to be very muddy, and they worked great. I did have to roll down the legs-my calves are just too big for the top of the boot-but it did not turn out to be a problem. I was ready to rock and roll. I stepped outside, for the first time in days, and found Luna sitting by the door, as if she were waiting for me. Together we walked through the park and found a trail leading to the top of Monte Lingnano. I only hiked up the trail for 40 minutes before I decided to turn back to the house for lunch. Still, the whole time I followed Luna, my guide –she seemed to know exactly where she was going –and I got out of the house on my own for a while. About half way through my walk, the road started disappearing in the mud. I slipped several times, and by the third time I realized it was probably not a good idea to have worn my nice Italian cashmere scarf, my Ray Bans, AND my two thousand dollar camera! Next time I will know to only wear the things I can get dirty, and to take my camera along with me in its bag so I have both hands free. I was really amazed as I was walking. I was so far away from everything else the wind had its own sound. I can see now how the Indians crept around the soft forest ground without making any noise. Sometimes, the silence is just so loud in your head, that’s all you can hear. I turned back, wanting to be on time for lunch, calling for Luna to come along. She was not having any part of it, and kept going on her own way. Going back without her was a little more scary. I was just about to stop to make sure I was still on the right path, half of the trail had been lost in the mud, so my hiking consisted of trying to walk at an incline on the muddy mountain, when Luna came bursting from behind me. She ran until she was a little distance ahead of me, and I followed her. I guess I lost my faith in her right before we reached the park because when I saw her standing under this fallen tree, I knew instantly it was the wrong way to go. It was not the path I had taken to get up the mountain. I tried calling her back to me, but she just stood there, wanting me to follow. I was worried about getting lost, and decided to not follow her, but go by the trail back to the house. Luna never caught up with me. By the time I got back to the house, Alice and Elia had just arrived, and low and behold, Luna was laying on the ground by the car, chewing on some old bone like she had been lounging there for hours. I was amazed she had made it back before I did, and I now know I will not question her judgment again. Clearly she knows the area better than I do.
Lunch consisted of the great American delicacy, hamburgers. In Italy however, when you cook hamburgers, there is no burger, just the ham. Alice cooked up plain hamburger patties, made cooked carrots and cauliflower, and that was it. She did have mayonnaise, mustard, and ketchup to put on the patties, but you can forget about cheese, bread, lettuce, tomato, onion. It was so strange to me, but I ate two patties, and thanked her for the meal. Oddly enough, she will not let Elia eat anything remotely spicy. She does not even cook with any pepper. He really wanted ketchup and mustard, but she said she did not want him to eat anything too spicy because she was worried it might mess with his digestion. So, Elia only ate mayo on his patty.
After Elia’s nap we were all packed up and ready to go to Alice’s friend’s house. She just had a baby girl (20 days old), and Alice had stopped by to give her a gift. A quick stop, to an Italian woman is generally about an hour and a half long, and as it was late in the evening, this was a “quick stop”. The moment I stepped into this woman’s house I was amazed. Her house was clearly newer and nicer. Certainly I did not see any corners of dust, or varmints running around. The floors were off white tile, the windows were much nicer than Alice’s, and seemingly somewhat more energy efficient. She offered us a coffee, the typical gesture for anyone entertaining guests, and of course Alice and I both said we would like a cup. Now, Alice and Alfonso drink strong espresso, but with a little sugar and cream it is fine. Their coffee is so strong (when I say coffee I mean espresso) it tastes bitterer than anything else. Well, Alice and Alfonso do not hold a candle to this woman. The espresso she handed me only filled about a fourth of the espresso cup, and was like tar it was so bitter. I put more sugar in it, hoping to mask the flavor, but all that seemed to do was intensify it. In the end I just had to slam it. There was no way I was going to sip on it and finish while it was still warm. Aside from the assaulting espresso, the woman, and her husband were very nice. They did not talk to me too much, but the grandmother asked me how things were going in the USA what with Obama haven taken office, and I told her we will see. I talked to her a little, and told her the popular vote for president had been very close, almost half and half, so it had been a very crazy election. People all over the world seem to think he is the second coming, and I cannot help but wonder. People put on such a high pedestal can never stay balanced there for long, and I wonder how he will end up falling from grace. No one can stand so high for long.
When we arrived back at the house it was already dark. Alfonso was already home, so quickly Alice made her way into the kitchen and began throwing something together (Alfonso never cooks). She put together another amazingly simple pasta dish, which I will be posting at the end of this entry, and it also tasted wonderful. By the time we were done, there was no more pasta left in the bowl. Somehow, American cooking became the subject at the dinner table. Before I knew it, Alice and Alfonso were asking me to cook something American for them for dinner tomorrow night. I had told them both I was no cook, but still they asked me to cook for them. So, I called mom trying to think of things which I could cook well without a lot of stress, and we came up with a few dishes for me to try. I think it is a little odd they want me, a person who does not really cook, to cook something American for them. Plus everything is even harder hear than it is at home because Alice, as you know, does not like to have modern equipment in her kitchen, and to pull out something like chicken fried steak, requires a lot of work, and at the very least, a skillet. Well, maybe it will all work out okay. Mom had mentioned the idea of me making a pineapple upside down cake (be still my beating heart), but again, Alice does not have a skillet so I would have to figure out some other way to make one.
Oh, and here is one little funny tidbit: Here, they call ‘corn’ mais, pronounced “mice”, when Alice was looking through her pantry for something to cook for dinner on evening, she looked at me and said, ‘maybe we could eat mice…’. My shocked face must have stopped her. She could not figure out what I was so upset about. I said “Mice? Like the little animals that eat cheese?” She started laughing uncontrollably. “No, no, no” she said “Mais, then she picked up a jar of corn, showing me what she meant. I was relieved and told her “Oh my, I thought you meant mice, like ‘topolino’”. She started laughing uncontrollably, and now she ever makes an effort to say ‘corn’ to me, or cannot stop herself from laughing when she says ‘mais’.
We are making a trip to the grocery store tomorrow-finally some hand cream!!- so I will let you know how the dinner works out tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Here is the recipe:
Fusilli Pasta with Crushed Tomatoes and Olive Oil
Fusilli Pasta (you judge how much you want by how many are eating. Maybe two cups dry for three people)
20 (give or take) small tomatoes (I think they are called cherry tomatoes, they are small and oblong in shape)
1/2 cup of Olive Oil
2 cloves garlic (minced)
Salt
Alice used a wok looking dish to make this sauce, one, becuase it would hold both the pasta and the sauce, and two, because it helped make the sauce more concentrated. However, if you do not have a wok, a large sautee pan should do fine.
Heat the oil to medium high to high heat. Next add the salt and garlic, and finally the tomatoes. Let the tomatoes cook as they are for about four or five minutes, then begin crushing them, either with a fork or a wooden spoon. You should crush them all, but leave enough large bits of tomato so the sauce is a little chunky. Heat the pasta water, add plenty of salt to the water, and cook the pasta as instructed on the box. After finished cooking, drain the pasta (no need to shake out all of the excess water) and dump the hot pasta into your sautee pan. Leave the heat on and toss the pasta and sauce for about a minute or two. Then turn off the heat, add about a fourth a cup of Parmesean cheese, and toss. Sprinkle the top with a little more cheese and serve. The sauce will look thin, but the tomatoes give the oil a great flavor and you should have a very tasty dish. If you think you are running out of oil, simply add some more, along with a few more tomatoes. You cannot really cook this sauce too long, but all in all, I think Alice only cooked her's for 15, give or take, minutes. You do not want to fry your tomatoes, only cook and crush so they will release that nice acid taste.
Hope you enjoy!!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Only Six Days????
Date: January 25, 2009
I realized today, as I was cleaning up the mess Elia had made at dinner, I have only been here for six days. SIX DAYS. It feels like an eternity. I wonder how mom is feeling at home. Has it just gone by in the blink of an eye for my family? Of course, I cannot say the situation here has been wonderful. Bugs, small room, bad child, and I family I feel I do not know. This realization really struck me hard. I even stopped what I was doing and just stared at the wall for a minute; wrapping my mind around the thought. However, I have taken some time to think about this, and I do not think it is just the discomfort I feel right now while becoming acquainted with this new family, but also I have only been outside of this house twice since I have been here-I have not even been able to walk around the grounds because there is so much mud everywhere-coupled with the hard truth that I have no means of going anywhere on my own, plus although my language gets me by, conversing is still very difficult for me and most people I try to talk to do not talk nearly as slowly as Alice talks to me. Tomorrow we are going to Arezzo to see a friend of Alice’s who just had a baby and I have asked Alice if she will take me to find some galoshes, warm house shoes, and a winter knit cap so at least I can start going outside more. If you are hot natured, you would love it here. Every day it is 50 degrees, but with the cloud cover and cold wind, it feels much colder. It takes me so long to warm up, I hardly ever want to go outside, but I should get out a little more. Supposedly, we are suppose to have some sun for about three days this week, but then it is suppose to start raining again. Maybe I can ask Alice to show me how to ride the little Vespa they have.
Okay, so back to today. Sundays run a little differently than most mornings in this house. Alice had told me she was going down to the restaurant at 11am. So, when I woke up at 10 I forced myself to get up and get ready, thinking they would have already had breakfast. Nope. Everyone was still asleep once I got up, and everyone hung out in their PJs until about 1120. Alice told me this was their Sunday morning routine, so now I know there is no need to be breaking down the door on Sunday here; truly a day of rest. Alice flew out the door at 1130, and Alfonso had already gone. Elia started to cry, but I immediately turned on the TV, and he was in the zone until she brought up lunch. She did not come in the house, just left the food in the entry, but still Elia began crying. I tried to sit him down for lunch, but he was too upset. So, we went back to the TV for about five minutes, then he was ready to eat. We ate in peaceful silence, with the TV going in the background. He was done rather quickly, and I cleaned up the mess. Alice came back in around 2:15, and I rushed to get my computer to call mom. Something I was not prepared for was the internet overload on the weekends. I do not know how the internet actually works in Italy, probably it is provided by the government or something, but it kept dropping the connection every other minute. It was the same yesterday as well. I just could not talk to mom at all without our call being dropped. This morning it was so bad we could only say two words to each other before my connection dropped, then I would have to wait and wait and wait for an new connection, which would inevitably drop again. So, of course we were both frustrated. However, tonight was better. I was able to stay online seemingly without any problems, and as far as I can tell, this is not a problem on week days and nights. Neither Alice nor Alfonso are very technical so neither could really answer my question, but I am hoping this is not going to be a problem that snowballs. I only got to talk to mom for a minute, and the internet was so frustrating, I just disconnected and went up to my room to watch a movie. After my time of relaxation, it was time to go back down to the living room where Alice was about to get ready to go back down to the restaurant for dinner. Alfonso’s sister’s family came by, her husband is super tall- like a basketball player- and their two daughters seemed nice. No one actually spoke to me, the sister, Antonella, asked why I had chosen to come here to Alice, but no one directed any comments to me. Which, I guess was okay, since I could barely understand what most of them were saying (except for the youngest, and my favorite, Linda).
When Alice walked out the door for dinner Elia did start moaning, but not for her, for the TV. He already knew what to expect, and of course I turned it on. The TV never stopped. Without the TV going, this kid is just not manageable in the house. Even when I tried to turn it off an hour after his mom left, he started crying for his mom and dad. What a card player this little kid is, but I figure, I will do whatever I need to keep him from screaming and crying and wearing down my nerves. He understands me pretty well now, but mostly chooses not to answer me when I ask questions like “what color is this?” Yet, when I ask “are you hungry?” it is a bee line for the kitchen. Alice brought the dinner in the same way she brought the lunch, and everything went well. It was a kind of soup, which Elia would not touch, so I just let him eat the bread and almost all of the leftovers from our lunch. Alice came back in around 10, and I went to the computer room to do a few last minute emails.
Now, here I am, in bed, writing to you
A few more things, did you know people flock here during the week to fill up bottle after bottle of water. There is a faucet outside the house, at the entrance of the park, where you can get water any time of day or night. I have seen people fill up five cases of water, and more. I asked her why they do this, and she says the water is very good here, because the faucet takes water from the aquifer underneath the mountain. Even here the only water we drink is from the tap. It is difficult for me to get enough water in during the day, amazingly no one here drinks a lot of water, and I am use to have plastic portable bottles I can carry from room to room. Alice just has a small set of glasses, and inevitably, I end up leaving my glass in some room and forget about drinking enough water.
Also, I was worried, before I came here, about using too much hot water, taking too much time in the shower; well I worry about it no more. The reason why Europeans do not shower as much is because their hot water heaters must be the size of a garden gnome. Every time I get in the shower, the water is either scalding or freezing, so you take some of the water up just to find the right temperature, then once you are in, I would say you have about four minutes before the fridge cold starts coming through the shower head. It is very frustrating so I guess most Europeans just say to hell with it. I bet, if you gave a European, from birth, the same kind of hot water heaters we have in the USA, they would not only bathe more, they would take longer showers. Oh, plus, since there are no dryers here, you never get the lint off of the towels you buy. That’s right, every time I take a shower, and being drying off I am covered in blue lint, I have a heck of a time picking it all off of my face!
I think if I can just wait out the rain, things will slowly become more natural. Once I am able to leave I might be able to feel more comfortable with the area.
I realized today, as I was cleaning up the mess Elia had made at dinner, I have only been here for six days. SIX DAYS. It feels like an eternity. I wonder how mom is feeling at home. Has it just gone by in the blink of an eye for my family? Of course, I cannot say the situation here has been wonderful. Bugs, small room, bad child, and I family I feel I do not know. This realization really struck me hard. I even stopped what I was doing and just stared at the wall for a minute; wrapping my mind around the thought. However, I have taken some time to think about this, and I do not think it is just the discomfort I feel right now while becoming acquainted with this new family, but also I have only been outside of this house twice since I have been here-I have not even been able to walk around the grounds because there is so much mud everywhere-coupled with the hard truth that I have no means of going anywhere on my own, plus although my language gets me by, conversing is still very difficult for me and most people I try to talk to do not talk nearly as slowly as Alice talks to me. Tomorrow we are going to Arezzo to see a friend of Alice’s who just had a baby and I have asked Alice if she will take me to find some galoshes, warm house shoes, and a winter knit cap so at least I can start going outside more. If you are hot natured, you would love it here. Every day it is 50 degrees, but with the cloud cover and cold wind, it feels much colder. It takes me so long to warm up, I hardly ever want to go outside, but I should get out a little more. Supposedly, we are suppose to have some sun for about three days this week, but then it is suppose to start raining again. Maybe I can ask Alice to show me how to ride the little Vespa they have.
Okay, so back to today. Sundays run a little differently than most mornings in this house. Alice had told me she was going down to the restaurant at 11am. So, when I woke up at 10 I forced myself to get up and get ready, thinking they would have already had breakfast. Nope. Everyone was still asleep once I got up, and everyone hung out in their PJs until about 1120. Alice told me this was their Sunday morning routine, so now I know there is no need to be breaking down the door on Sunday here; truly a day of rest. Alice flew out the door at 1130, and Alfonso had already gone. Elia started to cry, but I immediately turned on the TV, and he was in the zone until she brought up lunch. She did not come in the house, just left the food in the entry, but still Elia began crying. I tried to sit him down for lunch, but he was too upset. So, we went back to the TV for about five minutes, then he was ready to eat. We ate in peaceful silence, with the TV going in the background. He was done rather quickly, and I cleaned up the mess. Alice came back in around 2:15, and I rushed to get my computer to call mom. Something I was not prepared for was the internet overload on the weekends. I do not know how the internet actually works in Italy, probably it is provided by the government or something, but it kept dropping the connection every other minute. It was the same yesterday as well. I just could not talk to mom at all without our call being dropped. This morning it was so bad we could only say two words to each other before my connection dropped, then I would have to wait and wait and wait for an new connection, which would inevitably drop again. So, of course we were both frustrated. However, tonight was better. I was able to stay online seemingly without any problems, and as far as I can tell, this is not a problem on week days and nights. Neither Alice nor Alfonso are very technical so neither could really answer my question, but I am hoping this is not going to be a problem that snowballs. I only got to talk to mom for a minute, and the internet was so frustrating, I just disconnected and went up to my room to watch a movie. After my time of relaxation, it was time to go back down to the living room where Alice was about to get ready to go back down to the restaurant for dinner. Alfonso’s sister’s family came by, her husband is super tall- like a basketball player- and their two daughters seemed nice. No one actually spoke to me, the sister, Antonella, asked why I had chosen to come here to Alice, but no one directed any comments to me. Which, I guess was okay, since I could barely understand what most of them were saying (except for the youngest, and my favorite, Linda).
When Alice walked out the door for dinner Elia did start moaning, but not for her, for the TV. He already knew what to expect, and of course I turned it on. The TV never stopped. Without the TV going, this kid is just not manageable in the house. Even when I tried to turn it off an hour after his mom left, he started crying for his mom and dad. What a card player this little kid is, but I figure, I will do whatever I need to keep him from screaming and crying and wearing down my nerves. He understands me pretty well now, but mostly chooses not to answer me when I ask questions like “what color is this?” Yet, when I ask “are you hungry?” it is a bee line for the kitchen. Alice brought the dinner in the same way she brought the lunch, and everything went well. It was a kind of soup, which Elia would not touch, so I just let him eat the bread and almost all of the leftovers from our lunch. Alice came back in around 10, and I went to the computer room to do a few last minute emails.
Now, here I am, in bed, writing to you
A few more things, did you know people flock here during the week to fill up bottle after bottle of water. There is a faucet outside the house, at the entrance of the park, where you can get water any time of day or night. I have seen people fill up five cases of water, and more. I asked her why they do this, and she says the water is very good here, because the faucet takes water from the aquifer underneath the mountain. Even here the only water we drink is from the tap. It is difficult for me to get enough water in during the day, amazingly no one here drinks a lot of water, and I am use to have plastic portable bottles I can carry from room to room. Alice just has a small set of glasses, and inevitably, I end up leaving my glass in some room and forget about drinking enough water.
Also, I was worried, before I came here, about using too much hot water, taking too much time in the shower; well I worry about it no more. The reason why Europeans do not shower as much is because their hot water heaters must be the size of a garden gnome. Every time I get in the shower, the water is either scalding or freezing, so you take some of the water up just to find the right temperature, then once you are in, I would say you have about four minutes before the fridge cold starts coming through the shower head. It is very frustrating so I guess most Europeans just say to hell with it. I bet, if you gave a European, from birth, the same kind of hot water heaters we have in the USA, they would not only bathe more, they would take longer showers. Oh, plus, since there are no dryers here, you never get the lint off of the towels you buy. That’s right, every time I take a shower, and being drying off I am covered in blue lint, I have a heck of a time picking it all off of my face!
I think if I can just wait out the rain, things will slowly become more natural. Once I am able to leave I might be able to feel more comfortable with the area.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
A Movie to Lift Your Spirits?
Date: January 24, 2009
I did not sleep well again last night; although I slept until 9:30. As always I was woken up by the sound of crashing legos and crazy screams. Maybe Elia is the reason I am not sleeping well. I am so tense because I know, I am expecting, a crashing blast every morning. It’s like the difference between those who wake up to the sound of a harsh beep, and those who wake up to classical music. Or, maybe I am just tired of being here, and being in the rain. I got up and got dressed like I do every morning. Went downstairs to brush my teeth and hair, ate breakfast, and then decided to do something a little different. For a while now I have felt obligated to play with Elia. Since Alfonso is out mostly during the day, and Alice is left at home cleaning this and that, making lunch, etc, I have felt the need to keep Elia occupied. To play with him and try to teach him new words, but also some manners. But, I am tired of all that now. It was never in my job description to try to raise this kid, only to speak with him in English while I was to watch him. So this morning, I pulled out Jane Austen (my stress reliever and the only person around me who speaks English) and read on the sofa until lunchtime. It was nice. Even though I heard Elia screaming, with joy and anger, I just was able to tune it out and take a little me time. Of course it has been raining cats and dogs all day so I have not been able to get outside and walk around.
When lunchtime came, I was resolved to say nothing. Alice had said to me the night before, I should be the one to tell Elia to eat with a fork and sit when we are at the table, etc. But, I did not say much of anything, and Alfonso and Alice just went about lunch as usual. It has gotten to the point where Elia just starts screaming once we put his bib on him. Like he is trying to wear everyone down even before we have started eating. So, he ate most of what was on his plate, and then started spitting out these little tomatoes after he had chewed them for a bit. Alice had prepared for him a piece of bread, with oil and salt, which is his treat, and was prepared to give it to him after he had eaten one more tomato. Well, he kept doing the same thing, screaming, putting a tomato in his mouth, chew and scream, then spit it out. Alice fought with him for about ten minutes then said to him. ‘From now on no more spitting out food’, and handed him the piece of bread. I knew then that this was not a good situation and that it was Alice and Alfonso that had created such a little rotten child.
By the time I was talking to mom, I was really upset about the situation. I told her what all had happened and I was, I am, worried that every time he does not get what he wants, which are his parents when I am watching him, that he will scream and shriek until they come home. She gave me some advice, but the best was to just go and put on a movie in my room while Elia was asleep and the house was quiet. I felt much more relaxed after I had taken a few hours to travel back to the USA in my head. By the way, Jason, I am sorry to say that I only just now realized the DVD you gave me for Christmas is a bad disc. For some reason, it just will not play. Not to worry though, I think I am just going to buy it through Itunes.
Then it was time for Alice and Alfonso to go to work. Alice left at six, and Alfonso had already gone. We played peek-a-boo which he loves, and worked with learning the colors and playing legos. Then, Alfonso came in to change. Suddenly, all Elia wanted to do was play with Elia, and I just sat in the living room while Elia follow Alfonso all over the house. After Alfonso had changed, the fun was over. He said ‘goodbye’ to Elia, and the second his hand touched the door he started screaming. I tried to get him to come back and play legos with me, I even started singing. However, he was determined to scream for almost an entire hour. He would have screamed more, but Alfonso came back in with dinner. He was suppose to just meet me at the door, but I guess he feels he will do what he wants, when he wants, because he just sauntered on in for Elia to see him. We got the table set up and I put some pasta on his plate. Elia had just put a few pieces of pasta in his mouth when Alfonso turned to leave. All of the pasta went falling out of his mouth when he started shrieking for his dad. He continued shrieking for the next forty minutes until Alice came in; she had finished with work early. Once she came in he almost immediately stopped crying, and she was talking to him saying, “oh, my little one, do you want a little meat? A little bread?” He ate while she sat there. It was not that he did not like the pasta, he did, but he just doesn’t like me being here instead of his parents. I cleaned my plate, and went to call mom. I heard Alice say as I was leaving “Elia, you need to be good and not cry when I leave and eat with Casey”.
Mom said I needed to go back in and talk to Alice, which I did after she had put Elia to sleep. She asked me what had happened and I told her the whole story. How I had tried to comfort him by singing, and playing, but he would not have any of it. She gave me some more ideas, but, I told her, I will leave if this does not get better. I cannot stay in a place-especially during the summer, can you imagine sitting through five full hours of shrieking?-when he clearly does not like me. She, on the other hand, thought I was over reacting. She said, well it has only been four days, and maybe he just does not have any trust in you yet, but each day it will get better and better, and he is so small and probably confused…. I think you know how the rest went. Well, in my experience, when people would drop their babies off at Sunday school, if they would really leave for the full hour, I had no problem getting them to start playing and forget about their parents being gone. If Elia had wanted to get use to me, he would have last night, and I know for certain that tonight was even worse than last night. In some ways I am dreading today because I have him for both lunch and dinner. Even now, I can hear him downstairs and every time his mom leaves the room he runs after her like she is never coming back, he did not do this when I first came here. I don’t know what is going to happen, but I will do my best to try and make this work. I will take Alice’s advice, but if within a month, this is not any better, I am going to have to leave. I am not going to call STA to change my ticket date until I know this will work out. If not, maybe I will try to find other families and start over again. Right now, I am going to put my efforts into this family. Funny enough, getting along with Elia was never something I was worried about. Maybe I was worried about how heavy my suitcases were, or what the weather would be like, or the fact that there is only one bathroom, but never if I could have a good relationship with a child. It’s funny how the things you never expect sneak up on you. Expect the unexpected, but exactly how do you expect what you cannot expect?
I did not sleep well again last night; although I slept until 9:30. As always I was woken up by the sound of crashing legos and crazy screams. Maybe Elia is the reason I am not sleeping well. I am so tense because I know, I am expecting, a crashing blast every morning. It’s like the difference between those who wake up to the sound of a harsh beep, and those who wake up to classical music. Or, maybe I am just tired of being here, and being in the rain. I got up and got dressed like I do every morning. Went downstairs to brush my teeth and hair, ate breakfast, and then decided to do something a little different. For a while now I have felt obligated to play with Elia. Since Alfonso is out mostly during the day, and Alice is left at home cleaning this and that, making lunch, etc, I have felt the need to keep Elia occupied. To play with him and try to teach him new words, but also some manners. But, I am tired of all that now. It was never in my job description to try to raise this kid, only to speak with him in English while I was to watch him. So this morning, I pulled out Jane Austen (my stress reliever and the only person around me who speaks English) and read on the sofa until lunchtime. It was nice. Even though I heard Elia screaming, with joy and anger, I just was able to tune it out and take a little me time. Of course it has been raining cats and dogs all day so I have not been able to get outside and walk around.
When lunchtime came, I was resolved to say nothing. Alice had said to me the night before, I should be the one to tell Elia to eat with a fork and sit when we are at the table, etc. But, I did not say much of anything, and Alfonso and Alice just went about lunch as usual. It has gotten to the point where Elia just starts screaming once we put his bib on him. Like he is trying to wear everyone down even before we have started eating. So, he ate most of what was on his plate, and then started spitting out these little tomatoes after he had chewed them for a bit. Alice had prepared for him a piece of bread, with oil and salt, which is his treat, and was prepared to give it to him after he had eaten one more tomato. Well, he kept doing the same thing, screaming, putting a tomato in his mouth, chew and scream, then spit it out. Alice fought with him for about ten minutes then said to him. ‘From now on no more spitting out food’, and handed him the piece of bread. I knew then that this was not a good situation and that it was Alice and Alfonso that had created such a little rotten child.
By the time I was talking to mom, I was really upset about the situation. I told her what all had happened and I was, I am, worried that every time he does not get what he wants, which are his parents when I am watching him, that he will scream and shriek until they come home. She gave me some advice, but the best was to just go and put on a movie in my room while Elia was asleep and the house was quiet. I felt much more relaxed after I had taken a few hours to travel back to the USA in my head. By the way, Jason, I am sorry to say that I only just now realized the DVD you gave me for Christmas is a bad disc. For some reason, it just will not play. Not to worry though, I think I am just going to buy it through Itunes.
Then it was time for Alice and Alfonso to go to work. Alice left at six, and Alfonso had already gone. We played peek-a-boo which he loves, and worked with learning the colors and playing legos. Then, Alfonso came in to change. Suddenly, all Elia wanted to do was play with Elia, and I just sat in the living room while Elia follow Alfonso all over the house. After Alfonso had changed, the fun was over. He said ‘goodbye’ to Elia, and the second his hand touched the door he started screaming. I tried to get him to come back and play legos with me, I even started singing. However, he was determined to scream for almost an entire hour. He would have screamed more, but Alfonso came back in with dinner. He was suppose to just meet me at the door, but I guess he feels he will do what he wants, when he wants, because he just sauntered on in for Elia to see him. We got the table set up and I put some pasta on his plate. Elia had just put a few pieces of pasta in his mouth when Alfonso turned to leave. All of the pasta went falling out of his mouth when he started shrieking for his dad. He continued shrieking for the next forty minutes until Alice came in; she had finished with work early. Once she came in he almost immediately stopped crying, and she was talking to him saying, “oh, my little one, do you want a little meat? A little bread?” He ate while she sat there. It was not that he did not like the pasta, he did, but he just doesn’t like me being here instead of his parents. I cleaned my plate, and went to call mom. I heard Alice say as I was leaving “Elia, you need to be good and not cry when I leave and eat with Casey”.
Mom said I needed to go back in and talk to Alice, which I did after she had put Elia to sleep. She asked me what had happened and I told her the whole story. How I had tried to comfort him by singing, and playing, but he would not have any of it. She gave me some more ideas, but, I told her, I will leave if this does not get better. I cannot stay in a place-especially during the summer, can you imagine sitting through five full hours of shrieking?-when he clearly does not like me. She, on the other hand, thought I was over reacting. She said, well it has only been four days, and maybe he just does not have any trust in you yet, but each day it will get better and better, and he is so small and probably confused…. I think you know how the rest went. Well, in my experience, when people would drop their babies off at Sunday school, if they would really leave for the full hour, I had no problem getting them to start playing and forget about their parents being gone. If Elia had wanted to get use to me, he would have last night, and I know for certain that tonight was even worse than last night. In some ways I am dreading today because I have him for both lunch and dinner. Even now, I can hear him downstairs and every time his mom leaves the room he runs after her like she is never coming back, he did not do this when I first came here. I don’t know what is going to happen, but I will do my best to try and make this work. I will take Alice’s advice, but if within a month, this is not any better, I am going to have to leave. I am not going to call STA to change my ticket date until I know this will work out. If not, maybe I will try to find other families and start over again. Right now, I am going to put my efforts into this family. Funny enough, getting along with Elia was never something I was worried about. Maybe I was worried about how heavy my suitcases were, or what the weather would be like, or the fact that there is only one bathroom, but never if I could have a good relationship with a child. It’s funny how the things you never expect sneak up on you. Expect the unexpected, but exactly how do you expect what you cannot expect?
Saturday, January 24, 2009
With A Grain of Salt…Or Maybe Two
Date: January 23, 2009
Today started off good, but ended up horribly; but, let’s start at the beginning.
I am not sleeping well here. What I mean to say is that, although I am sleeping through the night, I have trouble falling asleep, and then in the morning, I wake up exhausted. The simple truth is I am not really comfortable here. I am sure the hard bed does not help, but I think it is more related to the fact that I cannot, or have yet to, become comfortable here. Funny enough, I never had this problem when I was living in Santa Chiara. I guess being around Americans helped me, who knows. Anyway, I woke up this morning, tired, and threw on some clothes, brushed my hair and teeth, then went to the kitchen to round up some breakfast (Yogurt, berries, gluten free cookies, and coffee). The sun was out this morning, and covered the entire valley in fog making it seem like we were above the clouds. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, but I am sure there will be many more moments like this.
Afterwards Alice said we- herself, Elia, and I- were going to Castiglion Fiorentino to see the market (open on Fridays) and to buy me an Italian cell phone and some art supplies. There wasn’t much to see in the market. Actually, I have bought next to nothing since I have been here. The cell phone only cost me 45 euros, and the art things were 23, plus the 150 Euros I paid for Angelo to meet me at the airport and get me on the train to Arezzo. In the beginning I was thinking this would be an expensive year for me, but now I see that there will be no reason for me to draw money out of my account, except for when I buy a plane ticket to see one of my pen pals. On our way back to the car, I ran into Bobo, an old man who ran a little coffee bar close to Santa Chiara, which I visited almost every morning to eat breakfast. In the two years since I have seen him, I have sent him a few cards and things, and when I saw him on the street I knew him instantly. I smiled and waved. Blank. He didn’t know me from Adam. I walked up to him and told him I was Casey. Still Blank. “Casey Adams” I said. “OH!” Finally some recognition, because for just a moment I was worried I had the wrong man. We talked a little, it was difficult to understand him, but I told him I would come to see him as soon as I learned to ride the Vespa well; which, by the way, does not look like it is going to be any time soon. It started raining tonight, and is suppose to rain all day tomorrow.
I was glad to see Bobo, we parted with a hug. Afterwards, we all headed to a baby store where Alice bought a gift for a friend’s baby. Then we headed home. Oh, here is an interesting tidbit: Alice had to stop at the pet store in Rigutino because she was out of cat food, and apparently the local mail man delivers her mail to this store instead of to her house. During the summertime, he actually makes the drive up the mountain, but in the winter he says it is too long a drive for him so he leaves her mail at the pet store. Alice says he is just lazy.
When we came back home Alice made a frittata with asparagus, some cooked carrots, and rice. The frittata was really very good. The worst part about lung was Elia. In fact, you may notice that I have not spoken much of the child I am supposed to be teaching. Well, I guess it was an involuntary action, but I can tell you he is a handful and makes me so tired I can’t believe it. Every time he screams, which is about once an hour, I feel like I have been here an eternity. Being an only child to parents who thought they would never have children, well, he is naturally a spoiled boy. Also, he has a kind of cold right now, snot running down his nose and all, so that is incredibly unpleasant. Alice is insistent on him, he is about a month away from being two, learning to eat with a fork and spoon on his own, off of his own plate. Of course, he is use to getting his way and having others feed him. So, every time we sit down and tell him to eat with a fork it is screaming like there is no tomorrow, and not just for a minute. Today he screamed throughout lunch. I never get mad, but it is so draining. All I want to do is be away from him. He is smart, already he has started learning the names of colors in English, but this is also a curse because he knows just what to do when I tell him something he does not want to hear. Well, needless to say, lunch was stressful. The thing that gets me through the day is knowing I am going to talk to mom directly after lunch. I left Alice to put him down for his daily afternoon nap, and bee lined to the computer room.
After talking with mom, Micchi was on the couch and curled up in my lap once I sat down beside her. I didn’t have long to read before Elia woke up and was into everything. To be honest, this job was not what I thought it was going to be. I thought I was going to have so much free time, but honestly my day consists of playing or watching Elia. In the morning, I put away the things from breakfast, in the afternoons I keep him occupied while Alice makes lunch, in the evenings I have him when Alice and Alfonso are at work. And since Alfonso comes home and immediately turns on the TV, Elia still calls for me to come and play with him. This is a full time job people. Another interesting tidbit for you: Today Alice told me that she had talked with Alfonso last night and said she told him that when he comes home, he should spend at least one hour, without the TV on, with Elia. Then, she asked me, what do you think of this? A red flag went up instantly. I mean, this is one of those questions that you can never answer correctly, and I didn’t want my answer to come back and bite me. I told her that it seemed like a nice idea, and that it would be helpful to Elia. She agreed, and I didn’t say any more about it. Truth be told, I know next to nothing about Alfonso. When he is not in the bar, he does construction work on the side and is gone all day. I think he seems nice, but I don’t want him to not like me because of my supporting Alice’s demands, or always agreeing with her. But, to be honest, I don’t think he really cares.
An Italian teacher of mine once told me that Italian men become extremely distant from the family once the wife has a baby, and I guess this must be true. Although Alfonso loves Elia and Alice, there is something about his manner that is a little distant. For instance, the night I put Elia to bed and Alice was crying so violently, Alfonso was sprawled out on the other sofa watching TV.
I had thought once Alice and Alfonso left to work in the Restaurant, Elia would be shrieking. However, I was surprised. He sat on the couch and played legos with me for about an hour, then when to his construction trucks for a while before he started wondering where Mom and Dad were. When he did cry it wasn’t too violent, and I could always regain his intrest with the help of the legos or some other toy. Then, Alfonso brought up some food Alice had made for Elia and I. She had made me a pizza, and Elia minestrone soup. He took one look at the soup, wouldn’t eat it, looked at my pizza and reached like he was going to put his hands in it. When I stopped him, he shrieked and cried for Alfonso pointing at me when he came in with tears running down his face. Alfonso gave him a fork and two pieces of cooked pancetta, he wasn’t interested. He wanted what was on my plate. When I told him no he started screaming again for Alfonso. Eventually, he ate the pancetta, while Alfonso stayed in the kitchen, and made him three hotdogs (sans bun). I had told Elia he could not simply take what was on my plate, and of course, to undermine me he looked at his dad and pointed to the pizza. Alfonso looked at me and said, maybe you could give him a little. I don’t think he likes the minestrone. Elia knew then that he had won, and I couldn’t do anything. No matter what I did from that point on, it was useless. When I didn’t give him enough pizza he cried for Alfonso, and he came into the kitchen yet again. I told Alfonso then I thought it was confusing for Elia to say one night, no you eat what is on your plate and the next okay, you can have what is on my plate. He seemed to agree, but did not say too much. After he watched me give him a little more pizza he finally left to get back to the bar, just enough time to ruin every shred of my authority. Well, by this time I was pretty pissed. As soon as Alfonso left Elia started screaming for his dad and mom at the top of his lungs, and I just ignored him. I put the dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned the table, and his high chair, and sat him facing the wall in the living room. I was not about to pick him up just to have him scream in my ear. At that point, there was nothing I could do or say to stop him. I had to either wait for him to pass out or for Alice to come home. In about 10 minutes, the latter occurred. She asked me what had happened, smiling. And I told her about Alfonso, and the whole situation at dinner. I told her that from now one, when Elia and I eat alone, we need to eat the exact same thing. She was surprised to hear he would not eat because he likes soup with vegetables a lot. I asked her what exactly she was expecting of me, what she wanted me to do with Elia, etc. She said she thought it would be best if I were the one, for a week, who when at the table told Elia to eat with a fork, or to not stand, etc. She thought this would establish my authority, and in turn she said she and Alfonso would be silent and not contradict me. To me, this is so odd because most parents I know never, under any circumstances, accept another person scolding their child. I thought about what she had said and came back to her and told her, in English, that if at any time she decided she just wanted me to teach him English, and not all of the extra stuff, then to tell me, and I would understand. I realized then that she is tired of trying to train him properly; I guess it was not going so well for her, and said she was happy to relinquish the duty to me, but would take it back on if she needed to. I still feel a little awkward about this. But, we will see how it goes. Through my headphones I can hear Alice and Alfonso in the midst of a “discussion”, not quite capable of being a fight because they finally got Elia to sleep, but it doesn’t sound like they are agreeing on what they are talking about.
I wonder if I would have been happier has just a nanny. I wonder if I should not have taken a position when I got my own room, and actual room, and bathroom, and had a little detachment. I wonder if I am going to get tired of disciplining Elia. Alice is the light in this house, and I think, the only reason I am not crying over missing my mom. Maybe I have too much free time now. Tomorrow, I am going to ask Alice to show me how to do the lace crochet stuff she does, or help me with my trip to Germany, or look for French classes. Maybe I will even take a walk in the rain. All I know is that tonight ended on a bad note for me. I am tired and maybe a little worried about the future, and when I am worried or stressed I miss my home that much more. To think, I am sleeping in room with varmints when there is a practically palatial room for me at home.
Now, to Jason, I would like to say thank you for leaving your thoughtful comments at the end of every post. I check every day to see if someone has written in to add their two cents to my blog, and I can always count on you. It puts a little light in my day. Thanks Jay!
Aunt Linda, excatly where do you put the epsom salt? Do you sprinkle it in corners and around the edge of the room? Or do you leave it in little sacks like you would with lavander?
Someone please pray I start sleeping well at night! I could use a little help here.
Today started off good, but ended up horribly; but, let’s start at the beginning.
I am not sleeping well here. What I mean to say is that, although I am sleeping through the night, I have trouble falling asleep, and then in the morning, I wake up exhausted. The simple truth is I am not really comfortable here. I am sure the hard bed does not help, but I think it is more related to the fact that I cannot, or have yet to, become comfortable here. Funny enough, I never had this problem when I was living in Santa Chiara. I guess being around Americans helped me, who knows. Anyway, I woke up this morning, tired, and threw on some clothes, brushed my hair and teeth, then went to the kitchen to round up some breakfast (Yogurt, berries, gluten free cookies, and coffee). The sun was out this morning, and covered the entire valley in fog making it seem like we were above the clouds. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, but I am sure there will be many more moments like this.
Afterwards Alice said we- herself, Elia, and I- were going to Castiglion Fiorentino to see the market (open on Fridays) and to buy me an Italian cell phone and some art supplies. There wasn’t much to see in the market. Actually, I have bought next to nothing since I have been here. The cell phone only cost me 45 euros, and the art things were 23, plus the 150 Euros I paid for Angelo to meet me at the airport and get me on the train to Arezzo. In the beginning I was thinking this would be an expensive year for me, but now I see that there will be no reason for me to draw money out of my account, except for when I buy a plane ticket to see one of my pen pals. On our way back to the car, I ran into Bobo, an old man who ran a little coffee bar close to Santa Chiara, which I visited almost every morning to eat breakfast. In the two years since I have seen him, I have sent him a few cards and things, and when I saw him on the street I knew him instantly. I smiled and waved. Blank. He didn’t know me from Adam. I walked up to him and told him I was Casey. Still Blank. “Casey Adams” I said. “OH!” Finally some recognition, because for just a moment I was worried I had the wrong man. We talked a little, it was difficult to understand him, but I told him I would come to see him as soon as I learned to ride the Vespa well; which, by the way, does not look like it is going to be any time soon. It started raining tonight, and is suppose to rain all day tomorrow.
I was glad to see Bobo, we parted with a hug. Afterwards, we all headed to a baby store where Alice bought a gift for a friend’s baby. Then we headed home. Oh, here is an interesting tidbit: Alice had to stop at the pet store in Rigutino because she was out of cat food, and apparently the local mail man delivers her mail to this store instead of to her house. During the summertime, he actually makes the drive up the mountain, but in the winter he says it is too long a drive for him so he leaves her mail at the pet store. Alice says he is just lazy.
When we came back home Alice made a frittata with asparagus, some cooked carrots, and rice. The frittata was really very good. The worst part about lung was Elia. In fact, you may notice that I have not spoken much of the child I am supposed to be teaching. Well, I guess it was an involuntary action, but I can tell you he is a handful and makes me so tired I can’t believe it. Every time he screams, which is about once an hour, I feel like I have been here an eternity. Being an only child to parents who thought they would never have children, well, he is naturally a spoiled boy. Also, he has a kind of cold right now, snot running down his nose and all, so that is incredibly unpleasant. Alice is insistent on him, he is about a month away from being two, learning to eat with a fork and spoon on his own, off of his own plate. Of course, he is use to getting his way and having others feed him. So, every time we sit down and tell him to eat with a fork it is screaming like there is no tomorrow, and not just for a minute. Today he screamed throughout lunch. I never get mad, but it is so draining. All I want to do is be away from him. He is smart, already he has started learning the names of colors in English, but this is also a curse because he knows just what to do when I tell him something he does not want to hear. Well, needless to say, lunch was stressful. The thing that gets me through the day is knowing I am going to talk to mom directly after lunch. I left Alice to put him down for his daily afternoon nap, and bee lined to the computer room.
After talking with mom, Micchi was on the couch and curled up in my lap once I sat down beside her. I didn’t have long to read before Elia woke up and was into everything. To be honest, this job was not what I thought it was going to be. I thought I was going to have so much free time, but honestly my day consists of playing or watching Elia. In the morning, I put away the things from breakfast, in the afternoons I keep him occupied while Alice makes lunch, in the evenings I have him when Alice and Alfonso are at work. And since Alfonso comes home and immediately turns on the TV, Elia still calls for me to come and play with him. This is a full time job people. Another interesting tidbit for you: Today Alice told me that she had talked with Alfonso last night and said she told him that when he comes home, he should spend at least one hour, without the TV on, with Elia. Then, she asked me, what do you think of this? A red flag went up instantly. I mean, this is one of those questions that you can never answer correctly, and I didn’t want my answer to come back and bite me. I told her that it seemed like a nice idea, and that it would be helpful to Elia. She agreed, and I didn’t say any more about it. Truth be told, I know next to nothing about Alfonso. When he is not in the bar, he does construction work on the side and is gone all day. I think he seems nice, but I don’t want him to not like me because of my supporting Alice’s demands, or always agreeing with her. But, to be honest, I don’t think he really cares.
An Italian teacher of mine once told me that Italian men become extremely distant from the family once the wife has a baby, and I guess this must be true. Although Alfonso loves Elia and Alice, there is something about his manner that is a little distant. For instance, the night I put Elia to bed and Alice was crying so violently, Alfonso was sprawled out on the other sofa watching TV.
I had thought once Alice and Alfonso left to work in the Restaurant, Elia would be shrieking. However, I was surprised. He sat on the couch and played legos with me for about an hour, then when to his construction trucks for a while before he started wondering where Mom and Dad were. When he did cry it wasn’t too violent, and I could always regain his intrest with the help of the legos or some other toy. Then, Alfonso brought up some food Alice had made for Elia and I. She had made me a pizza, and Elia minestrone soup. He took one look at the soup, wouldn’t eat it, looked at my pizza and reached like he was going to put his hands in it. When I stopped him, he shrieked and cried for Alfonso pointing at me when he came in with tears running down his face. Alfonso gave him a fork and two pieces of cooked pancetta, he wasn’t interested. He wanted what was on my plate. When I told him no he started screaming again for Alfonso. Eventually, he ate the pancetta, while Alfonso stayed in the kitchen, and made him three hotdogs (sans bun). I had told Elia he could not simply take what was on my plate, and of course, to undermine me he looked at his dad and pointed to the pizza. Alfonso looked at me and said, maybe you could give him a little. I don’t think he likes the minestrone. Elia knew then that he had won, and I couldn’t do anything. No matter what I did from that point on, it was useless. When I didn’t give him enough pizza he cried for Alfonso, and he came into the kitchen yet again. I told Alfonso then I thought it was confusing for Elia to say one night, no you eat what is on your plate and the next okay, you can have what is on my plate. He seemed to agree, but did not say too much. After he watched me give him a little more pizza he finally left to get back to the bar, just enough time to ruin every shred of my authority. Well, by this time I was pretty pissed. As soon as Alfonso left Elia started screaming for his dad and mom at the top of his lungs, and I just ignored him. I put the dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned the table, and his high chair, and sat him facing the wall in the living room. I was not about to pick him up just to have him scream in my ear. At that point, there was nothing I could do or say to stop him. I had to either wait for him to pass out or for Alice to come home. In about 10 minutes, the latter occurred. She asked me what had happened, smiling. And I told her about Alfonso, and the whole situation at dinner. I told her that from now one, when Elia and I eat alone, we need to eat the exact same thing. She was surprised to hear he would not eat because he likes soup with vegetables a lot. I asked her what exactly she was expecting of me, what she wanted me to do with Elia, etc. She said she thought it would be best if I were the one, for a week, who when at the table told Elia to eat with a fork, or to not stand, etc. She thought this would establish my authority, and in turn she said she and Alfonso would be silent and not contradict me. To me, this is so odd because most parents I know never, under any circumstances, accept another person scolding their child. I thought about what she had said and came back to her and told her, in English, that if at any time she decided she just wanted me to teach him English, and not all of the extra stuff, then to tell me, and I would understand. I realized then that she is tired of trying to train him properly; I guess it was not going so well for her, and said she was happy to relinquish the duty to me, but would take it back on if she needed to. I still feel a little awkward about this. But, we will see how it goes. Through my headphones I can hear Alice and Alfonso in the midst of a “discussion”, not quite capable of being a fight because they finally got Elia to sleep, but it doesn’t sound like they are agreeing on what they are talking about.
I wonder if I would have been happier has just a nanny. I wonder if I should not have taken a position when I got my own room, and actual room, and bathroom, and had a little detachment. I wonder if I am going to get tired of disciplining Elia. Alice is the light in this house, and I think, the only reason I am not crying over missing my mom. Maybe I have too much free time now. Tomorrow, I am going to ask Alice to show me how to do the lace crochet stuff she does, or help me with my trip to Germany, or look for French classes. Maybe I will even take a walk in the rain. All I know is that tonight ended on a bad note for me. I am tired and maybe a little worried about the future, and when I am worried or stressed I miss my home that much more. To think, I am sleeping in room with varmints when there is a practically palatial room for me at home.
Now, to Jason, I would like to say thank you for leaving your thoughtful comments at the end of every post. I check every day to see if someone has written in to add their two cents to my blog, and I can always count on you. It puts a little light in my day. Thanks Jay!
Aunt Linda, excatly where do you put the epsom salt? Do you sprinkle it in corners and around the edge of the room? Or do you leave it in little sacks like you would with lavander?
Someone please pray I start sleeping well at night! I could use a little help here.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Charmed, Charmed Life… (Thanks Diana for the music!)
Date: January 22, 2009
Yay! Finally, some photos!
Mom, Dad, Ashley, Monty and I the day I left for Italy.
This is one of the many cats that hang around the house. I forget her name, but she is very very old. Alice says she is about 8 years old.
This is Micchi. She is so sweet, and has these short stubby legs and a rotund sturdy body. So sweet. She comes in the house when it is rainy and sits next to Alice on the sofa. She is by far my favorite so far.
Finally, the sun poked its head out of the clouds for a few hours!
This morning a silverfish wormed its way into the box where I keep my socks and underwear. I was horrified, truly. I was so upset, I thought about going to ask Alice if it was normal to have such a bug problem, or if it was my room. I was really freaked out and shook everything vigorously before putting it on, hoping there were no little hosts in my clothes. When I went downstairs for breakfast I was almost about to tell Alice what had happened when Elia found a spider hanging off of his high chair. I showed Alice what he was pointing at, and she proceeded to grab the spider by the string, amazingly it did not go berserk when she moved him like the spiders in America, and opened a window, putting him outside. I knew then that the bug thing is normal here, but I can tell you if I catch one of those varmints in my room they are dead. I don’t do the bug thing.
Breakfast consisted of a cup of “Muller” vanilla yogurt (surprisingly very vanilla-y and good), a small glass of milk, 4 gluten free and honey sweetened cookies (a new favorite of mine), and a small palm full of blackberries.
Alice finally got her dishwasher fixed and returned to her, and it was nice to be able to just rinse all of the breakfast dishes, instead of doing all the cleaning by hand. After I cleaned up the kitchen from mine, Alice and Elia’s breakfast, I did my first load of Italian laundry. Their washers are front loaders and very small so Alice does everyone’s clothes just about every day to keep the laundry at a manageable level. Since it is too cold and wet outside for the clothes to dry, Alice puts everything on this self standing metal clothing rack in front of the potbelly fireplace and the furnace. Afterwards, Alice said she thought it was a good idea to take a walk since the sun did manage to poke its face out of the fog this morning. So, she dressed Elia, and then herself. She said that I could go with them, but I opted out. First of all, it gave her some time to be alone with Elia, and second, it gave me some time to be alone, well at least for about fifteen minutes. While they were gone I took the vacuum up to my room and when twice over my wooden floor hoping to exterminate the homes of any hosts living in my room. The Italians might take the time to save a spider, but this Texas draws a line in the sand. I wouldn’t care if the critters were just outdoors, but in my room (especially on my bed) is crossing the line and most likely leads to fatality.
When Alice came back she decided to make some lunch; pasta with zucchini and pancetta. Oh my goodness! This pasta was so good I wished she had made enough for seconds! The recipe will be at the end of the blog! We are having more and more trouble getting Elia to eat. Well, I think they have a lot of trouble with him. He is a sweet boy, but a little spoiled, which I suppose is natural for an only child. Anyway, he nearly screamed for the entirety of lunch. Here is the deal. He wants someone to feed him, and Alice wants him to learn to eat with a fork and spoon on his own. Well, to combat this he screams and screams and puts his dirty hands into Alice’s food and she ends up letting him he her food while he sits on her lap. This was also a major problem at dinner, and afterwards Alice and I sat talking about it. She asked me what I thought of the situation. She said that she did not know if it was better to take away a plate of food that he will not eat by himself, or to force him to eat what is on his plate by himself. I told her that I was a very bad child when it came to eating, and recalled for her all the things mom use to do to try to get me to eat my vegetables, and taste new things. There are many things to try, and Alice has a lot of things that she wants to work with Elia on. For instance, he has is this sort of high chair, but stands up and reaches across the table when he wants something. Alice does not like this, she says he needs to stay seated and not get up like that during dinner. She wants him to not bring his toys into the kitchen, etc. I told her that I could accomplish all of this so long as she, Alfonso, and I were all together, and that it was okay for me to discipline him. She seemed really happy that I was up to the task, and I felt like I knew more where I stood in the family. I mean, everyone feels odd about disciplining another person’s child.
After dinner, there was quite an event; Elia said his first English word: “Green”. At first, Alice did not hear him, and I tried to get him to say it for her, but of course, once there was a show, he clammed up. She went back into the kitchen, listening, and pretty soon after he said ‘green’ once again. Then when Alfonso came back in from walking Luna, he said it again. They were all pretty excited; myself included, and were finding green things to point to. Maybe tomorrow we will work on ‘Blue’. After this event, it was time for him to go to bed, and Alice said that I should practice putting him to bed alone because it would be necessary for me to do once the restaurant was open. Everything went smoothly, except when I finally put him in bed (he cried for his mother), but was calmed by my quiet singing of ‘You Are My Sunshine’. However, when I came back into the living room, Alice was sobbing. I mean, crying like there was no tomorrow. I felt bad, and also a little awkward. She said that she was happy that he would go to sleep with just me, but her favorite time with Elia was putting him to bed. I hugged her on my way to bed, asking if she was okay, and she said she was fine. Of course, I know now how special naptime and bedtime are for her, and when she can, I am going to let her do it. I certainly would not want to rob her of that time with him.
Tomorrow it is suppose to be raining again, but at least I will be going to get an Italian cell phone, and possibly some art supplies. Other than that, the day is open, and it will be my first time alone with Elia when Alice and Alfonso are at work. Cross your fingers and wish me luck!!
Fusilli with Zucchini and Pancetta
2 cups (approx) dry Fusilli pasta
1 Small Zucchini cut down the middle and then finely sliced by hand
1 cup diced Pancetta
½ a small onion
4 tbs Olive oil
Grated Parmesan Cheese
In a skillet on medium high heat, add about 2 tbs of Olive Oil and the onion. Cook until soft. Begin boiling the water for the pasta, and when ready add the pasta to the pot and cook according to the directions on the box. Then add a little more olive oil to the pan with the onions and throw in the pancetta. Cook until done and lightly golden (maybe five to seven minutes?), then add the zucchini and cook until soft. Once done remove the skillet from heat, and turn the flame down to low. Strain the pasta, and lightly shake out some of the excess water (you want a little water left in the pasta so it will create a kind of sauce), and pour the pasta into the skillet. Put back on low heat and mix the two together well. Serve with grated Parmesan cheese on top.
This is a really good dish, so I hope you like it!
Yay! Finally, some photos!
Mom, Dad, Ashley, Monty and I the day I left for Italy.
This is one of the many cats that hang around the house. I forget her name, but she is very very old. Alice says she is about 8 years old.
This is Micchi. She is so sweet, and has these short stubby legs and a rotund sturdy body. So sweet. She comes in the house when it is rainy and sits next to Alice on the sofa. She is by far my favorite so far.
Finally, the sun poked its head out of the clouds for a few hours!
This morning a silverfish wormed its way into the box where I keep my socks and underwear. I was horrified, truly. I was so upset, I thought about going to ask Alice if it was normal to have such a bug problem, or if it was my room. I was really freaked out and shook everything vigorously before putting it on, hoping there were no little hosts in my clothes. When I went downstairs for breakfast I was almost about to tell Alice what had happened when Elia found a spider hanging off of his high chair. I showed Alice what he was pointing at, and she proceeded to grab the spider by the string, amazingly it did not go berserk when she moved him like the spiders in America, and opened a window, putting him outside. I knew then that the bug thing is normal here, but I can tell you if I catch one of those varmints in my room they are dead. I don’t do the bug thing.
Breakfast consisted of a cup of “Muller” vanilla yogurt (surprisingly very vanilla-y and good), a small glass of milk, 4 gluten free and honey sweetened cookies (a new favorite of mine), and a small palm full of blackberries.
Alice finally got her dishwasher fixed and returned to her, and it was nice to be able to just rinse all of the breakfast dishes, instead of doing all the cleaning by hand. After I cleaned up the kitchen from mine, Alice and Elia’s breakfast, I did my first load of Italian laundry. Their washers are front loaders and very small so Alice does everyone’s clothes just about every day to keep the laundry at a manageable level. Since it is too cold and wet outside for the clothes to dry, Alice puts everything on this self standing metal clothing rack in front of the potbelly fireplace and the furnace. Afterwards, Alice said she thought it was a good idea to take a walk since the sun did manage to poke its face out of the fog this morning. So, she dressed Elia, and then herself. She said that I could go with them, but I opted out. First of all, it gave her some time to be alone with Elia, and second, it gave me some time to be alone, well at least for about fifteen minutes. While they were gone I took the vacuum up to my room and when twice over my wooden floor hoping to exterminate the homes of any hosts living in my room. The Italians might take the time to save a spider, but this Texas draws a line in the sand. I wouldn’t care if the critters were just outdoors, but in my room (especially on my bed) is crossing the line and most likely leads to fatality.
When Alice came back she decided to make some lunch; pasta with zucchini and pancetta. Oh my goodness! This pasta was so good I wished she had made enough for seconds! The recipe will be at the end of the blog! We are having more and more trouble getting Elia to eat. Well, I think they have a lot of trouble with him. He is a sweet boy, but a little spoiled, which I suppose is natural for an only child. Anyway, he nearly screamed for the entirety of lunch. Here is the deal. He wants someone to feed him, and Alice wants him to learn to eat with a fork and spoon on his own. Well, to combat this he screams and screams and puts his dirty hands into Alice’s food and she ends up letting him he her food while he sits on her lap. This was also a major problem at dinner, and afterwards Alice and I sat talking about it. She asked me what I thought of the situation. She said that she did not know if it was better to take away a plate of food that he will not eat by himself, or to force him to eat what is on his plate by himself. I told her that I was a very bad child when it came to eating, and recalled for her all the things mom use to do to try to get me to eat my vegetables, and taste new things. There are many things to try, and Alice has a lot of things that she wants to work with Elia on. For instance, he has is this sort of high chair, but stands up and reaches across the table when he wants something. Alice does not like this, she says he needs to stay seated and not get up like that during dinner. She wants him to not bring his toys into the kitchen, etc. I told her that I could accomplish all of this so long as she, Alfonso, and I were all together, and that it was okay for me to discipline him. She seemed really happy that I was up to the task, and I felt like I knew more where I stood in the family. I mean, everyone feels odd about disciplining another person’s child.
After dinner, there was quite an event; Elia said his first English word: “Green”. At first, Alice did not hear him, and I tried to get him to say it for her, but of course, once there was a show, he clammed up. She went back into the kitchen, listening, and pretty soon after he said ‘green’ once again. Then when Alfonso came back in from walking Luna, he said it again. They were all pretty excited; myself included, and were finding green things to point to. Maybe tomorrow we will work on ‘Blue’. After this event, it was time for him to go to bed, and Alice said that I should practice putting him to bed alone because it would be necessary for me to do once the restaurant was open. Everything went smoothly, except when I finally put him in bed (he cried for his mother), but was calmed by my quiet singing of ‘You Are My Sunshine’. However, when I came back into the living room, Alice was sobbing. I mean, crying like there was no tomorrow. I felt bad, and also a little awkward. She said that she was happy that he would go to sleep with just me, but her favorite time with Elia was putting him to bed. I hugged her on my way to bed, asking if she was okay, and she said she was fine. Of course, I know now how special naptime and bedtime are for her, and when she can, I am going to let her do it. I certainly would not want to rob her of that time with him.
Tomorrow it is suppose to be raining again, but at least I will be going to get an Italian cell phone, and possibly some art supplies. Other than that, the day is open, and it will be my first time alone with Elia when Alice and Alfonso are at work. Cross your fingers and wish me luck!!
Fusilli with Zucchini and Pancetta
2 cups (approx) dry Fusilli pasta
1 Small Zucchini cut down the middle and then finely sliced by hand
1 cup diced Pancetta
½ a small onion
4 tbs Olive oil
Grated Parmesan Cheese
In a skillet on medium high heat, add about 2 tbs of Olive Oil and the onion. Cook until soft. Begin boiling the water for the pasta, and when ready add the pasta to the pot and cook according to the directions on the box. Then add a little more olive oil to the pan with the onions and throw in the pancetta. Cook until done and lightly golden (maybe five to seven minutes?), then add the zucchini and cook until soft. Once done remove the skillet from heat, and turn the flame down to low. Strain the pasta, and lightly shake out some of the excess water (you want a little water left in the pasta so it will create a kind of sauce), and pour the pasta into the skillet. Put back on low heat and mix the two together well. Serve with grated Parmesan cheese on top.
This is a really good dish, so I hope you like it!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Long Road, Part 2 (There Be Varmints In This Here Room!)
So, I left off at the Supermarket. I was surprised that a place like this existed because I was under the impression that Italians went to the bread lady for the bread, and the fruit and vegetable man for the produce, and so on and so on. However, this place was pretty nice, and open more hours than most places in Italy, and does not close for lunch. They are even open one Sunday a month, which is big in this Catholic country. They had tons of selections of food, and even some American things that I recognized. We ended up parking below ground because of the rain, and went to pick up a basket before getting on the elevators to go up to the supermarket. I was surprised to see that it costs one euro to get a cart from the cart stand. It is all electronic, like the baggage wheelies you can get at the airport, and when I asked Alice why you had to pay for a cart she told me that it was to keep people from leaving the baskets sitting around the parking area, or taking them home I would think. I guess this could be a problem because although the store was large there was not the kind of parking that say a Whole Foods has. Once we were in the supermarket it seemed like pandemonium. There were people everywhere you turned. In fact, it was normal for someone to give you a nudge, or for someone else to nudge you, out of the way. I really hate shopping when there are crowds, but I imagine that place, called ‘Esselunga’, is never not crowded, because the crowds make me a little nervous and crazy. Alice stocked our cart full and asked if I needed anything myself. I did in fact need conditioner; oddly enough no one in Italy seems to use conditioner, just shampoo. But, then again, people do not shower all that much here either. Well, I could not find any conditioner, so I went back to Alice and Elia and asked what the word was for conditioner. She laughed and followed me back to the row I had been on, and found one of maybe five bottles of conditioner offered. I chose one almost at random, but I figure anything will do. After that we checked out, oddly enough Alice had brought her own bags (very nice thick plastic ones from a previous visit to Esselunga), and I thought that perhaps the store did not give out bags, but then, Alice ran out of space and asked the woman checking her out for another bag, and she gave it to her. So, I guess Alice is just more Earth conscious than most.
When we got back home, and had finished putting away the groceries, Alice made lunch for me and Elia; spaghetti with pesto. It was very good, but after a few bites I was done. I ate for what felt like an eternity, and still my bowl just looked full. Although she did give herself a smaller portion than me, and then gave some of that to Elia. I guess I must have lost my hungry vigor because she told me that if I was full that I could stop, that it was not necessary to eat and eat when I am full, that she did not mind if I did not finish it all. I was relieved. I told her that it was very good but I was just so full, and she took my bowl without a word, just a smile. I helped her clean and dry the dishes, and then it was time to put Elia down for his afternoon nap. I helped pick up his toys while she went through his ritual of changing his diper, give him his medicine (he has been sick for a week or so now, but there is only a cough remaining), putting him in his PJs, and fixing him some warm milk which she pours over lightly sweet cookies then shakes in a bottle, disintegrating the cookies, and gives it to him to drink. She turns out the light in his room, and then he is out. It’s the same for the evening, but she likes to wash his bottom in the sink as well as his feet after his diaper change.
There is no heating system in this house, so it gets pretty cold. The coldest is the computer room where the temperature can and does get below freezing. I have to wear my jacket with the hood up to stay warm while talking to mom on skype. Luna, the family dog, happens to sleep in there as well so her snoring is always a little comforting. In some ways it reminds me of Frankie.
Around dinner time Alice decided to make soup; white beans and pancetta soup. I am going to post the recipe, although she never measured anything so this is just going to be a guess, but it should be fine. It was really very good, and in Italy, apparently you can buy precut pancetta in a cup that you just open and throw into the pot. I do not think there is anything like this in the States, but I would check. While making dinner Alice, Alfonso, and I talked about various things, in Italian of course (with my dicitionary at my side). Things like the illegal Mexican aliens in Texas, some of the history of Texas, the state of schools, affirmative action, and of course about mom, dad, Ashley, and Monty; about what they do, how old they are, their history, etc. All in all it was a better night than last, but I am still tired. I still feel like a fish out of water here. Everything is so foreign, and cold. But, Alice and Alfonso are patient with me and my bumbling Italian, and I have even taught Elia how to give a “High Five”.
The only other thing to talk about is my “room”. For the most part it is quaint. There are three self standing racks; covered like a tent is, to keep the dust out and a zipper you undo to access the contents. There is a mini book shelf and a makeshift desk. The bed is a small twin, and hard like a rock. The sheets are not wonderful, and I have to say that night time is when I miss home the most. I miss my very soft comfy bed, and having Frankie sleep near me. Still there is a little plug in space heater that keeps the room warm enough, but still somewhere in the upper 40s. The one thing I do not like at all is the bugs. I have not noticed bugs in any other room in the house, but this morning, while making up my bed, I pulled up the comforter only to find a baby cockroach on the outside of my comforter, and tonight I saw a silverfish running along the wall opposite me, not to mention the two (or three) flies that seem to be hanging out in my room. I would kill them, I did kill the cockroach (no salvation for them), but with the others, especially the flies, I figure if I kill them, more will just show up for their wake. I am hoping they will die soon. I guess this is what it must be like living in the country, but I have to say I am looking forward to the city life again. Not so much so that I am willing to hop on a plane this instant, but I am looking forward to living in the new plush Pershing house!
Okay, here is the recipe:
1 large 28oz can of white beans (cannellini) strained but not rinsed
-Alice used half of an enormous can that she bought at the store, and I guess it would be about two times the 28oz size
1 medium fist full Bricchetti pasta
Water (about 6 cups)
½ onion chopped
1 sprig, the size of your palm, of Rosemary
1 cup diced pancetta
Pinch of salt
Enough olive oil to cook the onions until soft
First cook the onion and the olive oil, adding a little soft and letting them become tender. After two or three minutes add the rosemary (do not remove from the stem add the whole stem) and pancetta, cook until golden (about 7 or so minutes). Then add the beans straight into the pot. Cover with water, about two times the amount of beans, about four or so cups. Let sit with the lid crooked and cook on a medium to low boil until most of the water has evaporated and the soup has become thick (more beans than liquid). Then use an immersion blender (Alice put the soup through a food mill two times to make it extra creamy, she said she liked using the food mill instead of an immersion blender because she likes to have her kitchen as simple as possible…. which explains why, to make tea, you have to boil the water in a pot. No tea kettle here, and especially no microwave)Anyway, once you have creamed the soup, add about two more cups of water and a medium fist full of pasta (Alice used a kind called Bricchetti, and they ended up working well in the soup. If you cannot find this kind you are looking for something similar to small bits of spaghetti). Although the directions for the pasta said to cook for 13 minutes, Alice had to cook them about five minutes longer because they were cooking in the soup, not the water. Once the pasta is cooked, spoon into bowls and add a light swirl of olive oil and grated parmisean cheese to the top of the soup and enjoy. This was a very simple recipe, and I am sure it will be different for everyone, but if you put too much water in the soup, then just cook it longer to get some of it to evaporate. And, of course if you don’t have enough water, just add some more. Little by little is the key here.
P.s. Keep in mind that my posts are about a day behind. Instead of taking up the internet, it is easier for me to write about my day at night (here in Italy), and then copy and past it to my blog the following day. But with the time change and everything this is even confusing to me, so I think from now on I will beginning dating the post itself with the day about which I am talking
When we got back home, and had finished putting away the groceries, Alice made lunch for me and Elia; spaghetti with pesto. It was very good, but after a few bites I was done. I ate for what felt like an eternity, and still my bowl just looked full. Although she did give herself a smaller portion than me, and then gave some of that to Elia. I guess I must have lost my hungry vigor because she told me that if I was full that I could stop, that it was not necessary to eat and eat when I am full, that she did not mind if I did not finish it all. I was relieved. I told her that it was very good but I was just so full, and she took my bowl without a word, just a smile. I helped her clean and dry the dishes, and then it was time to put Elia down for his afternoon nap. I helped pick up his toys while she went through his ritual of changing his diper, give him his medicine (he has been sick for a week or so now, but there is only a cough remaining), putting him in his PJs, and fixing him some warm milk which she pours over lightly sweet cookies then shakes in a bottle, disintegrating the cookies, and gives it to him to drink. She turns out the light in his room, and then he is out. It’s the same for the evening, but she likes to wash his bottom in the sink as well as his feet after his diaper change.
There is no heating system in this house, so it gets pretty cold. The coldest is the computer room where the temperature can and does get below freezing. I have to wear my jacket with the hood up to stay warm while talking to mom on skype. Luna, the family dog, happens to sleep in there as well so her snoring is always a little comforting. In some ways it reminds me of Frankie.
Around dinner time Alice decided to make soup; white beans and pancetta soup. I am going to post the recipe, although she never measured anything so this is just going to be a guess, but it should be fine. It was really very good, and in Italy, apparently you can buy precut pancetta in a cup that you just open and throw into the pot. I do not think there is anything like this in the States, but I would check. While making dinner Alice, Alfonso, and I talked about various things, in Italian of course (with my dicitionary at my side). Things like the illegal Mexican aliens in Texas, some of the history of Texas, the state of schools, affirmative action, and of course about mom, dad, Ashley, and Monty; about what they do, how old they are, their history, etc. All in all it was a better night than last, but I am still tired. I still feel like a fish out of water here. Everything is so foreign, and cold. But, Alice and Alfonso are patient with me and my bumbling Italian, and I have even taught Elia how to give a “High Five”.
The only other thing to talk about is my “room”. For the most part it is quaint. There are three self standing racks; covered like a tent is, to keep the dust out and a zipper you undo to access the contents. There is a mini book shelf and a makeshift desk. The bed is a small twin, and hard like a rock. The sheets are not wonderful, and I have to say that night time is when I miss home the most. I miss my very soft comfy bed, and having Frankie sleep near me. Still there is a little plug in space heater that keeps the room warm enough, but still somewhere in the upper 40s. The one thing I do not like at all is the bugs. I have not noticed bugs in any other room in the house, but this morning, while making up my bed, I pulled up the comforter only to find a baby cockroach on the outside of my comforter, and tonight I saw a silverfish running along the wall opposite me, not to mention the two (or three) flies that seem to be hanging out in my room. I would kill them, I did kill the cockroach (no salvation for them), but with the others, especially the flies, I figure if I kill them, more will just show up for their wake. I am hoping they will die soon. I guess this is what it must be like living in the country, but I have to say I am looking forward to the city life again. Not so much so that I am willing to hop on a plane this instant, but I am looking forward to living in the new plush Pershing house!
Okay, here is the recipe:
1 large 28oz can of white beans (cannellini) strained but not rinsed
-Alice used half of an enormous can that she bought at the store, and I guess it would be about two times the 28oz size
1 medium fist full Bricchetti pasta
Water (about 6 cups)
½ onion chopped
1 sprig, the size of your palm, of Rosemary
1 cup diced pancetta
Pinch of salt
Enough olive oil to cook the onions until soft
First cook the onion and the olive oil, adding a little soft and letting them become tender. After two or three minutes add the rosemary (do not remove from the stem add the whole stem) and pancetta, cook until golden (about 7 or so minutes). Then add the beans straight into the pot. Cover with water, about two times the amount of beans, about four or so cups. Let sit with the lid crooked and cook on a medium to low boil until most of the water has evaporated and the soup has become thick (more beans than liquid). Then use an immersion blender (Alice put the soup through a food mill two times to make it extra creamy, she said she liked using the food mill instead of an immersion blender because she likes to have her kitchen as simple as possible…. which explains why, to make tea, you have to boil the water in a pot. No tea kettle here, and especially no microwave)Anyway, once you have creamed the soup, add about two more cups of water and a medium fist full of pasta (Alice used a kind called Bricchetti, and they ended up working well in the soup. If you cannot find this kind you are looking for something similar to small bits of spaghetti). Although the directions for the pasta said to cook for 13 minutes, Alice had to cook them about five minutes longer because they were cooking in the soup, not the water. Once the pasta is cooked, spoon into bowls and add a light swirl of olive oil and grated parmisean cheese to the top of the soup and enjoy. This was a very simple recipe, and I am sure it will be different for everyone, but if you put too much water in the soup, then just cook it longer to get some of it to evaporate. And, of course if you don’t have enough water, just add some more. Little by little is the key here.
P.s. Keep in mind that my posts are about a day behind. Instead of taking up the internet, it is easier for me to write about my day at night (here in Italy), and then copy and past it to my blog the following day. But with the time change and everything this is even confusing to me, so I think from now on I will beginning dating the post itself with the day about which I am talking
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Long Road
Well, I am finally in Italy. After all the talk, the shopping, and the packing I am finally here. The flight over was hard, and I am stilled tired although I have not yet experienced the horrid jetlag I had last time I was here. The weather has forcasted rain and cold for the whole week, so there is not much to look forward to here. There are no people camping right now, and mostly it is Alice, Alfonso, Elia, and I. But, perhaps it is best to start from the beginning...
The flight over, from Frankfurt to Dallas, was hard indeed. My hopes were quickly deflated once I realized that the plane was packed, I mean packed, up to the very last seat. There were no personal monitors for the lowly people in coach, and so I spent most of the flight watching a small TV hanging from the ceiling of the airplane in the first row. I was fortunate though. The person sitting beside me happened to be about my age, and we struck up a kind of friendship. Her name was Sonja. She's German, and was flying home to see her family, and stay for about three weeks. She is married to an American, currently stationed in Iraq, lives in Kileen, and works for a German Biotech company in the USA. We talked about this and that before the plane took off; just whatever popped into our heads. I was surprised to learn that she had two cats, which she was taking with her to Germany because she could not find anyone to watch them, and one was male and the other female. I told her that I too had two cats, one male and one female, and so we started talking about how the male was always getting himself into trouble, and how the female would always lay back and watch him make mistakes and get in trouble. She was a good person to sit next to.
I am a nervous solo flyer, and that combined with the fact that the plane was full to the brim, means that I did not get any sleep. Well, I did actually have one hard hour of sleep. I slept so hard in fact that Sonja had to tell me, once I woke up, that a man standing a seat infront of us, waiting for a bathroom, passed out, and people were rushing up to help him, and that the pilot had even come over the intercom to ask if there was a doctor on board. And, of course, that I slept through the second round of hot towels. In the end, she said that the main had been fine. They had to take him to first class to treat him (That is when you know you are on a cramped airplane, when you cannot even treat someone fallen in the isle, and have to move them up to first where there is more room to breathe), and when he woke up he said that he was just light headed and that it happened to him a lot. Well, I think being taken to first class from economy on an airplane would wake even the dead.
The food on the plane was okay. Dinner was a meal of turkey with something that looked like it might have been stuffing at one time, cold orzo salad, and a brownie. Breakfast however, was another story. Once they started heating it up, I felt sick. Even Sonja said that the smell was bothering her, and when they brought it out, it was even worse. At first I thought they had served us some kind of breakfast calzone, but when it touched it, it was soft like wet bread. Sonja said she thought it was eggs, underneath that concoction was something that might have been hash browns, but smelled wrong, and finally under all that was wet spinach. On the side we were given some fresh fruit, and a dinner roll (which Sonja said is the breakfast bread of choice in Germany).
Mostly the flight just lingered on and on. I would always look at my watch and think, ok it must have been at least 45 minutes. Nope, it had only been 10 minutes. It was frustrating to say the least. Once we were landing in Germany the plane hit bumpy air and thrashed around so bad that both Sonja and I grabbed one another's hands until it ended.
Getting off the plane was also a fun experience. There was this weird guy pushing me, I mean literally pushing me, off the plane. At first I thought he was just being rude, then I thought he was trying to steal my camera, and then I wondered if he was not trying to make a quick connection. Once we were in the airport, he started running, so I assume he either had to go to the bathroom badly, or he was making a connection. Sonja and I didn't exchange information, and we parted with a smile and a wave. Sometimes in life we meet people who become friends when you need them most, and when you no longer do, you part ways, greatful for the company that, in some small way, shortened the miles.
Frankfurt was a completely different story. I realized, almost immediately how lost I felt. Although some signes were in English, everything still seemed so foreign, so alien. I got lost looking for my connection gate, looked around to ask someone where I should be headed and found everyone to be speaking in German, so some other language I didn't recognize. I just stood there, in the middle of the terminal looking around, puzzled and a little scared, when a man approached me. 'Are you lost? Are you from Texas?' he asked me. 'Yes' I said. 'I am too, I lived in Garland for a while, but now I live in Canada because I was transfered by my company a few years ago.' 'Oh, thank goodness' I said. 'Well, you were standing there and first I noticed your boots, then your passport, so I figured you must be from Texas. So, what gate are you looking for' he asked. I showed him my ticket. He pointed me in the right direction, and we parted ways.
Before I could reach my gate though, I was stopped by immigration, which happened to consist of a very angry young German man who questioned me like I was some criminal. Hesitantly, he stamped my passport and let me through. After going through security, again, I found the gate listed on my ticket. After sitting for a while, wondering where my plane was, and why the flight was not listed on the monitor, a voice came on, in German, and garbled something. Next there was some broken English and I gathered that my gate was no longer A21, but A1. Let me tell you, this was a large airport, and I was almost sweating by the time I arrived. Once I arrived, my flight was still not on the screen, so I went to the counter to ask if I was in the right place, and the lady working did not look up but asked if I was going to Helsinki, I said no but.... 'well, she cut in would you mind waiting we have a bit of a crisis here' and she kept typing. I sat down and waited. I did not hear that the gate had changed again, so I just stayed where a was. Pretty soon after that flight took off, the lady at the desk grabbed her purse and high-tailed it out of there. I started listening, and I did hear people speaking in Italian, so I thought I was probably in the right place.
I was, as it turns out, and the flight was not that bad. Hardly anyone was on the plane, and the flight attendants were very nice. I would have slept, but I was so frazzled from the airport, I just worked in the sudoku book I bought in Dallas before the first plane took off. Thanks Mom, by the way, for telling me to get one, because I think it kept me half sane during the journey. Actually, my mind was going pretty crazy the whole day. Once I was about three hours into the flight I thought "Oh, God." "A whole year, that seems like forever, and what am I going to do, I do not think I will stay for Christmas, maybe I will come home early". I think I just do not make good decisions while cramped like a sardine on a nine hour flight.
I arrived in Rome, and was greeted by Angelo, the man I had hired to help me with my bags. He was very nice and we spoke some Italian while he drove me to the train station, bought me a bottle of water, helped me buy a ticket, and not only brought my bags onto the train, but put them up above my head, on the luggage racks in the compartment I was in. I paid him, and he said that whenever I came back to Rome to call him and that we would eat some good for and that he had a seperate apartment for guests where I could stay if I wanted.
The train compartment, and the train ride itself was just horrible. I was in and isle, and to my right was a man from Africa who would not stop talking to me, some Italian woman, and on the opposite side was an Italian man who looked somewhat sketchy, a very freaky looking boy/man from the middle east whoes teeth were half rotted, and scragldy; well, lets just say he looked homeless, but had a cell phone and was constantly calling someone, and then there was an african girl taking some notes on the bible. I would have set my cell phone and just have gone to sleep, but I was too scared that one of those men, or all would take my passport or my camera, which was up above me, or something. I was so tired that the rocking of the train kept putting me to sleep. So, my head would lull down to my chest, then I would realize I was falling asleep, and would pop back up. It was like this for the whole train ride. Finally, I was off the train, and by a stroke of luck, a nice Italian picked up the bag I had left behind me, I had already gotten down my large bag, and handed it to me. I was so thankful for that. Alice was waiting further up the platform, and she had to go and get Alfonso to help carry the bags up the stairs.
We loaded the bags into the tiny car, and went to pick up Elia from his grandparents, who are very sweet, typical, old italians. The mother offered me some coffee, and not wanting to be rude, I accepted. We only stayed for a few minutes, and the we packed up Elia and drove to their house. Once unloaded, bags up stairs, Alice said I should shower and get ready for dinner. I took a quick one, and was out in a flash. What I really wanted to do next was put on my PJs, but apparently this is not how it is done in Italy. They all stay in their normal clothes until it is time to actually get into bed. So, I put on a pair of jeans and a white shirt. Next, I went to the dryer Alice had given me, but it did not fit in my outlet, so I just ended up going to sleep with wet hair because I had forgotten to ask her about it at dinner, and once I was up stairs, well I could tell she was winding down.
Dinner consisted of risotto with red cabbage, a wintertime dish Alice told me, along with some bruschette following the meal. Once done, I offered to help Alice clean the dishes, but she told me not to worry with it tonight and I went up stairs to my room and unpacked my suitcases. It did not seem real to me until that moment. Once all of my clothes were in their place, and I was ready for bed I realized that I was here for the long haul. I laid down on the small twin bed, which was warm, but as hard as a rock, and has a fitted sheet that feels more like burlap than cotton. I fell asleep almost immediately, Alice and Alfonso were still up downstairs. I have no idea when they went to sleep, but I am guessing it was late because she did her and Alfonso's laundry (the clothes they had worn to pick me up) that night.
I dream that Mom was with me, and we had this long conversation about what was going on in the house, and how I was feeling. We stayed in my room and talked for a long time. It felt so real that when I woke up I actually thought I had talked with her last night. The morning was a little crazy. I woke up at nine, still tired (I ended up going to be at 1030 the night before), to hear Elia called my name. Well, the name he calls me, which is Meme after the first girl who stayed here, Megan. Now Alice is trying to get him to say Meme Essi, which he does every now and then, but mostly just shortens it to Meme. So, I got dressed quickly, and went downstairs. Alice told me that it was raining, still is, and that she thought we might go to the supermarket for food if I was up for it. Also she had layed out breakfast for me, but I did not know that she and Elia had already eatten so I was waiting for them. Well, needless to say I did not get breakfast because Alice had not noticed that I did not eat, and I didn't know to say anything. So, we were out the door.
The supermaket, was what I imagine a slightly smaller whole foods it. It had underground parking, and they did not just sell food, but bedding, and books, etc. It was amazingly crowded, and it seemed just normal to push people out of the way with your cart, no one got mad at you they just let you push them. Okay, that is enough for now. My fingers are sore but, I will post part 2 either tonight or tomorrow morning.
The flight over, from Frankfurt to Dallas, was hard indeed. My hopes were quickly deflated once I realized that the plane was packed, I mean packed, up to the very last seat. There were no personal monitors for the lowly people in coach, and so I spent most of the flight watching a small TV hanging from the ceiling of the airplane in the first row. I was fortunate though. The person sitting beside me happened to be about my age, and we struck up a kind of friendship. Her name was Sonja. She's German, and was flying home to see her family, and stay for about three weeks. She is married to an American, currently stationed in Iraq, lives in Kileen, and works for a German Biotech company in the USA. We talked about this and that before the plane took off; just whatever popped into our heads. I was surprised to learn that she had two cats, which she was taking with her to Germany because she could not find anyone to watch them, and one was male and the other female. I told her that I too had two cats, one male and one female, and so we started talking about how the male was always getting himself into trouble, and how the female would always lay back and watch him make mistakes and get in trouble. She was a good person to sit next to.
I am a nervous solo flyer, and that combined with the fact that the plane was full to the brim, means that I did not get any sleep. Well, I did actually have one hard hour of sleep. I slept so hard in fact that Sonja had to tell me, once I woke up, that a man standing a seat infront of us, waiting for a bathroom, passed out, and people were rushing up to help him, and that the pilot had even come over the intercom to ask if there was a doctor on board. And, of course, that I slept through the second round of hot towels. In the end, she said that the main had been fine. They had to take him to first class to treat him (That is when you know you are on a cramped airplane, when you cannot even treat someone fallen in the isle, and have to move them up to first where there is more room to breathe), and when he woke up he said that he was just light headed and that it happened to him a lot. Well, I think being taken to first class from economy on an airplane would wake even the dead.
The food on the plane was okay. Dinner was a meal of turkey with something that looked like it might have been stuffing at one time, cold orzo salad, and a brownie. Breakfast however, was another story. Once they started heating it up, I felt sick. Even Sonja said that the smell was bothering her, and when they brought it out, it was even worse. At first I thought they had served us some kind of breakfast calzone, but when it touched it, it was soft like wet bread. Sonja said she thought it was eggs, underneath that concoction was something that might have been hash browns, but smelled wrong, and finally under all that was wet spinach. On the side we were given some fresh fruit, and a dinner roll (which Sonja said is the breakfast bread of choice in Germany).
Mostly the flight just lingered on and on. I would always look at my watch and think, ok it must have been at least 45 minutes. Nope, it had only been 10 minutes. It was frustrating to say the least. Once we were landing in Germany the plane hit bumpy air and thrashed around so bad that both Sonja and I grabbed one another's hands until it ended.
Getting off the plane was also a fun experience. There was this weird guy pushing me, I mean literally pushing me, off the plane. At first I thought he was just being rude, then I thought he was trying to steal my camera, and then I wondered if he was not trying to make a quick connection. Once we were in the airport, he started running, so I assume he either had to go to the bathroom badly, or he was making a connection. Sonja and I didn't exchange information, and we parted with a smile and a wave. Sometimes in life we meet people who become friends when you need them most, and when you no longer do, you part ways, greatful for the company that, in some small way, shortened the miles.
Frankfurt was a completely different story. I realized, almost immediately how lost I felt. Although some signes were in English, everything still seemed so foreign, so alien. I got lost looking for my connection gate, looked around to ask someone where I should be headed and found everyone to be speaking in German, so some other language I didn't recognize. I just stood there, in the middle of the terminal looking around, puzzled and a little scared, when a man approached me. 'Are you lost? Are you from Texas?' he asked me. 'Yes' I said. 'I am too, I lived in Garland for a while, but now I live in Canada because I was transfered by my company a few years ago.' 'Oh, thank goodness' I said. 'Well, you were standing there and first I noticed your boots, then your passport, so I figured you must be from Texas. So, what gate are you looking for' he asked. I showed him my ticket. He pointed me in the right direction, and we parted ways.
Before I could reach my gate though, I was stopped by immigration, which happened to consist of a very angry young German man who questioned me like I was some criminal. Hesitantly, he stamped my passport and let me through. After going through security, again, I found the gate listed on my ticket. After sitting for a while, wondering where my plane was, and why the flight was not listed on the monitor, a voice came on, in German, and garbled something. Next there was some broken English and I gathered that my gate was no longer A21, but A1. Let me tell you, this was a large airport, and I was almost sweating by the time I arrived. Once I arrived, my flight was still not on the screen, so I went to the counter to ask if I was in the right place, and the lady working did not look up but asked if I was going to Helsinki, I said no but.... 'well, she cut in would you mind waiting we have a bit of a crisis here' and she kept typing. I sat down and waited. I did not hear that the gate had changed again, so I just stayed where a was. Pretty soon after that flight took off, the lady at the desk grabbed her purse and high-tailed it out of there. I started listening, and I did hear people speaking in Italian, so I thought I was probably in the right place.
I was, as it turns out, and the flight was not that bad. Hardly anyone was on the plane, and the flight attendants were very nice. I would have slept, but I was so frazzled from the airport, I just worked in the sudoku book I bought in Dallas before the first plane took off. Thanks Mom, by the way, for telling me to get one, because I think it kept me half sane during the journey. Actually, my mind was going pretty crazy the whole day. Once I was about three hours into the flight I thought "Oh, God." "A whole year, that seems like forever, and what am I going to do, I do not think I will stay for Christmas, maybe I will come home early". I think I just do not make good decisions while cramped like a sardine on a nine hour flight.
I arrived in Rome, and was greeted by Angelo, the man I had hired to help me with my bags. He was very nice and we spoke some Italian while he drove me to the train station, bought me a bottle of water, helped me buy a ticket, and not only brought my bags onto the train, but put them up above my head, on the luggage racks in the compartment I was in. I paid him, and he said that whenever I came back to Rome to call him and that we would eat some good for and that he had a seperate apartment for guests where I could stay if I wanted.
The train compartment, and the train ride itself was just horrible. I was in and isle, and to my right was a man from Africa who would not stop talking to me, some Italian woman, and on the opposite side was an Italian man who looked somewhat sketchy, a very freaky looking boy/man from the middle east whoes teeth were half rotted, and scragldy; well, lets just say he looked homeless, but had a cell phone and was constantly calling someone, and then there was an african girl taking some notes on the bible. I would have set my cell phone and just have gone to sleep, but I was too scared that one of those men, or all would take my passport or my camera, which was up above me, or something. I was so tired that the rocking of the train kept putting me to sleep. So, my head would lull down to my chest, then I would realize I was falling asleep, and would pop back up. It was like this for the whole train ride. Finally, I was off the train, and by a stroke of luck, a nice Italian picked up the bag I had left behind me, I had already gotten down my large bag, and handed it to me. I was so thankful for that. Alice was waiting further up the platform, and she had to go and get Alfonso to help carry the bags up the stairs.
We loaded the bags into the tiny car, and went to pick up Elia from his grandparents, who are very sweet, typical, old italians. The mother offered me some coffee, and not wanting to be rude, I accepted. We only stayed for a few minutes, and the we packed up Elia and drove to their house. Once unloaded, bags up stairs, Alice said I should shower and get ready for dinner. I took a quick one, and was out in a flash. What I really wanted to do next was put on my PJs, but apparently this is not how it is done in Italy. They all stay in their normal clothes until it is time to actually get into bed. So, I put on a pair of jeans and a white shirt. Next, I went to the dryer Alice had given me, but it did not fit in my outlet, so I just ended up going to sleep with wet hair because I had forgotten to ask her about it at dinner, and once I was up stairs, well I could tell she was winding down.
Dinner consisted of risotto with red cabbage, a wintertime dish Alice told me, along with some bruschette following the meal. Once done, I offered to help Alice clean the dishes, but she told me not to worry with it tonight and I went up stairs to my room and unpacked my suitcases. It did not seem real to me until that moment. Once all of my clothes were in their place, and I was ready for bed I realized that I was here for the long haul. I laid down on the small twin bed, which was warm, but as hard as a rock, and has a fitted sheet that feels more like burlap than cotton. I fell asleep almost immediately, Alice and Alfonso were still up downstairs. I have no idea when they went to sleep, but I am guessing it was late because she did her and Alfonso's laundry (the clothes they had worn to pick me up) that night.
I dream that Mom was with me, and we had this long conversation about what was going on in the house, and how I was feeling. We stayed in my room and talked for a long time. It felt so real that when I woke up I actually thought I had talked with her last night. The morning was a little crazy. I woke up at nine, still tired (I ended up going to be at 1030 the night before), to hear Elia called my name. Well, the name he calls me, which is Meme after the first girl who stayed here, Megan. Now Alice is trying to get him to say Meme Essi, which he does every now and then, but mostly just shortens it to Meme. So, I got dressed quickly, and went downstairs. Alice told me that it was raining, still is, and that she thought we might go to the supermarket for food if I was up for it. Also she had layed out breakfast for me, but I did not know that she and Elia had already eatten so I was waiting for them. Well, needless to say I did not get breakfast because Alice had not noticed that I did not eat, and I didn't know to say anything. So, we were out the door.
The supermaket, was what I imagine a slightly smaller whole foods it. It had underground parking, and they did not just sell food, but bedding, and books, etc. It was amazingly crowded, and it seemed just normal to push people out of the way with your cart, no one got mad at you they just let you push them. Okay, that is enough for now. My fingers are sore but, I will post part 2 either tonight or tomorrow morning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)