Wednesday, January 26, 2011

CARE AND FEEDING OF THE BABY

Every two hours we feed her.  She's happy in the morning...she sings a little song when she wakes up.  Every morning she needs a thorough cleaning.  When we put her down at night, she also sings a little song.  She doesn't  want to be doted upon...but she hates being ignored---so we have to carefully balance how much attention to give her.  If she's left alone too long, she misbehaves, badly.  If she is coddled, or played with excessively, she misbehaves, badly.  Our lives are ruled by Victoria, our ThermoRossi 4900 Pellet Stove, THE BABY.

When I'm at home, my other  home, if I'm cold, I hit a switch and the heat goes on.  If I'm hot, I hit a switch and, Viola! air conditioning!  I don't think twice, or even once, about managing my environment with the touch of a switch....until now, I CAN'T DO IT THAT WAY ANY MORE!!!

We have to go to the tower and lug a 33-pound bag of pellets up the stairs, which lasts, for those of you interested, about 8 hours, replenish the pellets in the stove every two hours to maintain an even (sort of even) temperature, decide if we're going out whether to leave her on or not, vacuum the ashes out of the stove daily, in short, focus our lives around maintaining heat in the house!

OMG...it's a complete shift in thinking and perceptions.  Who said Americans are spoiled and addicted to luxury and comfort and "the easy life?"  Absolutely true....so, we need to decide to do this, to survive and thrive in a climate and culture that requires more hands-on manipulation of our environment.  My friend Angela said it best when she said, "it's the challenge that keeps us coming back.  Facing down  obstacles and winning.  Carving out a life for ourselves in an environment that continually tests us...." Yeah, baby!!

And then I got a sore throat and felt achey and had sinus pressure and was cold....I needed care and feeding every two hours, not too much coddling, plenty of attention,  hot tea and a blankey,  a hot water bottle and a good book.  Sooooo, you see, there are TWO BABIES in the house.... 

It's an interesting situation:  at home, our other home, we have a very active social life.  Not so much here, not yet.  That puts undue pressure on our partner to bear the burden of all/most of our social interactions.  Who can do that?  What one person can meet ALL the needs of another?  What one partner can be the scintillating dinner guest, the giggling girlfriend, the sports commentator, the recipe tester, the voice of reason, the sounding board, the planner, the gossip, the grown up.....????   Another challenge in our new life....How DID those pioneer women survive?

On a very personal note:  my Gary is devoted to our experiment here, working to make it easy and comfortable, lugging the pellets upstairs, interfacing with the electrician and the heater technico, putting weather stripping in the door, ensuring we are warm and happy, playing Yahtzee! and Scrabble.  I wouldn't want to be housebound with anyone else in the world!  And he,  he has the challenge of TWO babies!!

Saturday, January 22, 2011

MOTHER NATURE'S BEEN VERY BUSY...



FROM THE TOP FLOOR OF THE HOUSE...SPECTACULAR!


GOTTA PLAY!

STAYIN OUTTA THE SNOW



Thursday, January 20, 2011

DID YOU KNOW? ... or, the unspoken but understood ...

Did you know it is inappropriate to order a cappuccino in Italy after 11 AM??
     It has something to do with heated milk being a breakfast food and something for children....soooo, an adult DOESN'T order cappuccino once lunch approaches.  I have been the object of raucous laughter when, at the conclusion of a long lunch, I mistakenly ordered a...what?  cappuccino!  My friend, John, refused to buckle....so at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, despite my warnings, he ordered a c.... The waitress was kind, she just kinda smirked.  **Now, if you're in a big city where there are lots of tourists, the baristas are used to this, so you won't be an object of ridicule in Rome or Milan.**

Did you know Italians celebrate the Epiphany with a holiday called Befana?? 
     The Befana is a witch,--full-on witch, the nose, the hat, the cape, the broom--who brings children presents (get it?).  So, Christmas isn't the day of presents, it's Befana.  AND...it's a Festa, so all of Italy is closed in celebration of...gift-giving!  So, walk with me here:  Christmas eve--everything closed, half day, Christmas day, entire country celebrates, everything closed, Day AFTER Christmas (the Brits call it Boxing Day), everyone is recuperating, so everything is closed, New Year's Eve, closed, half day, New Year's Day, closed, Befana, everything closed....does this country know how to celebrate the season, or what???  This is lovely if you live here; who doesn't love a holiday?  However, if you're a tourist and planned to see the Sistine Chapel on January 6, you're outta luck!!

Did you know many/some/all Italians believe air conditioning is unhealthy?      
     Now, electricity is expensive here (can't wait to get our first full month's bill!) so things like dryers and air conditioners are rarely used.  Italy is sweltering during the summer, especially the bigger cities--Rome, Florence, Milan--they don't cool off at night, but many homes do not have a/c.  Air conditioners are now widely sold, and many people have put small units in their homes, but oftentimes they aren't used.  My cousins, Tina and Rino, bought a small unit for their home; it worked faaaabulously!  Gary thought he was in the US, cool, cool, cool.  However, Tina caught a cold.  That a/c went off and stayed off the rest of the summer....she was convinced the forced cool air was responsible for her cold.  She is not alone.  **If you travel, it is not a problem to find a hotel with a/c.  However, if you're staying in a pensione or a hostel, chances are you'll be sweltering with the rest of the Italians!**

     This also applies to clothes dryers...despite winter temperatures, Italians are hanging out washed clothes.  It's a wonderful sight; it's 5 degrees C, the sun is out, and every terrace has clothes out, drying.  When the evening comes, the clothes are moved inside to some place out of the way to wait until tomorrow to be put out again.  We had a load of laundry that took FIVE DAYS to dry, and even then the socks were kinda damp.

Did you know Italy is experiencing a huge influx of immigrants which is awakening xenophobia???
     I've had a lot of conversations about this...the face of Italy, literally and figuratively, is changing, rapidly.  Una razza una faccia, one race, one face, is often intoned.  Many Italians are unhappy with the changes, are unaccepting of the immigrants, want their country to be what it was like "before"....it's an age-old discussion, an age-old conflict, an age-old problem that isn't going anywhere in this ever-changing global world.
     This takes me back to our visit to the immigration office---the people there, of every race and creed, --Chinese, Albanians, Pakistanis, Indians, Iranians--are the people facing discrimination because they are different, like immigrants everywhere.  I need to wrap my head around this a little more to get a deeper perspective....
     AND...Italians hold grudges...the Germans, because of their role in WWII, are still not embraced or liked very much.  When I asked someone if they liked the current Pope, the answer was, "No, He's German."  Simple. Clear.
     It's an interesting time.....

Did you know Italians LOOOOOVE IKEA??   
      IKEA was one of the first stores to be open on Sunday; Sunday is a Festa and, as you now know,  on Festas, nothing is open!  When we went to the IKEA in Rome the first time, on a SUNDAY,  to buy furniture, 10 years ago, the place was PACKED.  We couldn't walk down the aisles without bumping into people who were sauntering, window-shopping, enjoying the day.  The restaurant was hoppin', people having a coffee, a piece of pie, a full-on one or two-course meal!  Every relative I have here has at least one piece of furniture from IKEA in their home!  I mentioned to my neighbor, Laura, we were going to IKEA, and her reaction?  A guttural, eye-raising, saliva-induced, "Bello!"  And then she asked me to bring back the catalogue.

How does one learn about the cultural stuff no one talks about publicly?  We keep our eyes wide open, watch intently, use reflective listening, and hope to God we're not stepping on any toes or creating una brutta figura....also my family here has graciously and generously opened their homes, their hearts, their minds and given us a special pass into the unspoken Italy.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Il Mercato and Nesting

Yesterday we went to the weekly Saturday mercato in Communanza...every Saturday the same vendors with the same wares in the same slots show up....and every Saturday the locals come to do their shopping; everything from shoes and coats to housewares to prosciutto to fresh produce (grown in their gardens, of course!).  And every Saturday the locals takes advantage of a communal experience to wish each other "buon anno," to catch up on the gossip, to be with each other, to shop. 

THIS is the Italy that charms, THIS is the Italy everyone remembers, THIS is the Italy that creates deep, heartfelt yearning for a simpler time.  When the butcher HAND CUT his home-cured prosciutto for me, proudly displayed his homemade pecorino fresco--with the offer of a taste, of course--, when the woman went to the trunk of her car to get the freshest eggs for me, when the young woman pulled the "best-tasting" apples for me to try, THIS, I remembered, is why we are here.  The people are proud of their work, however simple or even menial it is, they are proud to cure wonderful-tasting prosciutto, have excellent egg hens, and an orchard with great-tasting apples.  Not only are they proud of their work, they want to share it.  And I, for one, welcome the sharing!

There is also a bittersweet acknowledgment that we will never be an integral, accepted part of this community.  We will always be stranieri, strangers, we will always be Americans; no one will ever mistake us for Italians---not once we open our mouths to speak!  I am reminded of my friend, Lynne, a francophile for years and years who moved to and now lives in France--7 years now, I think.  I was surprised 2 years into her time there when she said, "I am and always will be an American.  I wanted so badly to be French, but I'm not and never will be."  (And SHE is fluent!!!)  It gave me some perspective, some understanding, some acceptance of what our role will be...we will attempt to assimilate, we will act according to the mores (as many as we understand---there's another issue:  what is unspoken and understood by those who are native to a place!), we will try not to offend and not to embarrass ourselves, be the best we can be.

Living here is not easy--too many obstacles for that--BUT, to appreciate the good, to stop, to breathe, to afford each other civilities, to share a brilliant tangerine, THIS is worthwhile.  It's also fun...Saturday morning at the mercato, grab a cappuccino with a brioche, watch the people, shop a little, taste a little, try on a hat---what else would you want to be doing for a couple of hours???  and it takes us back to the basics, to the essence of what we love about Italy....AND, the sun is shining and the sky is a brilliant blue--the forecast calls for clouds to roll in in the next couple of days--but in the meantime, our outlook is sunny and we are at peace with this roller coaster we're on!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

INS---ITALIAN STYLE

Image this:  a room with muted rose-colored carpet, soft light, comfortable chairs, framed architectural drawings on the walls, faux ancient Roman sculptures artfully placed around the room, Vivaldi playing softly in the background, and the espresso bar serving cappuccini and croissants.  

In my dreams....as we drove up to the Immigration Office I felt like I was in Santa Ana.  The building is non-descript industrial, the room has worn, brown linoleum flooring, no heat (it was 9 degrees C today), torn "Avviso Importante" signs taped to the walls, a broken copy machine, and 6 chairs--1 with no back. 

The tension was palpable....everyone there wants to be in Italy legally.  They are willing to wade through the myriad paperwork, adjust to changing requirements at the drop of a hat (we were told to bring 4 pictures; the woman at the window shook her head, said, "six," and sent us to the photo machine), return again and again, all to receive legal status.  We all had deer-in-headlight, shell-shocked faces.  And we waited...and waited...and waited.
and we waited....
Is the message, "we don't want any stranieri, strangers,  in our country; if you insist on being here, you must jump through many hoops, and we can change the rules at any time?"  Is that the message all immigrants face?  If so, how do people have the fortitude to do it??  It's discouraging and demoralizing.  And we had it easy--we don't have to be here, we have another home, we aren't running from political abuse, we don't need asylum....it gives pause.  It was a humbling and eye-opening experience.

The good news:  the people who work there are professional and quite pleasant, no animosity or derision.  And...we'll hear about our permesso di soggiorno within 4-6 weeks.  So, our paperwork is complete---all we have to do is wait!

Sunday, January 9, 2011

THE TIES THAT BIND

Cousin Dario asked me, in English (cuz he's been living in England for the past nine years), "do you consider your mother an Italian or an American?  I always thought of her as an American." 
My initial reaction was American, for when she came to the States, after the war with a really handsome American Army guy, it was appropriate to assimilate into the culture.  To eschew one's native country in order to more easily "fit in."  However, Mom was guided by innate Italian mores and beliefs...she didn't talk about it, she lived it. 

La Bella Figura is one of those innate, driving forces....Italians NEVER go out in their sweat pants; one dresses to go out, one looks his/her best when they go out, one doesn't want to embarrass him/herself.  The beautiful figure.  In clothes, behavior, relationships, behavior, cars, behavior...always la bella figura.

Mom lived la bella figure, every day she carefully, meticulously put on her makeup and dressed, even if she wasn't going anywhere.  She kept her clothes well-cared for-- "if you take care of your clothes, they'll take care of you," she'd say as she carefully folded one of 20 cashmere sweaters.  She always "behaved" in public, expecting us to do the same.  (ahhh, the consternation I caused her!)

It seems this began from the day she was born...when she was 16, she wanted to go to a dance and didn't have a new dress or money to buy one (my Nonno was a caretaker for a school and they lived in the basement).  So, Mom took curtains off one of the windows in the school (image large, picture windows in an old palazzo) and made herself a new dress.  Off she went, had a great time, but came home to a fuming father who smacked her (it was common practice back then)  and ripped the dress to shreds.  Mom was sobbing...not because of the smacking, but because the beautiful dress was ruined.  La Bella Figura....

When she met my Dad, it was very important for her to impress this handsome guy in uniform.  She was embarrassed to have him come to the basement of the school, (LBF) so she asked a friend of hers if he could pick her at their large, lovely villa.  So, Dad picked her up and dropped her off there...when he dropped her off, she'd go to the second floor terrace, wave goodbye, wait until he left, then scuttle back to the basement.  One night, for some unapparent reason, he hid behind a tree after saying goodbye, and saw her slip out of the villa into the school.  The school was brightly lit and music poured from the windows (I can't tell ya why, but it did), so Dad thought Mom was going dancing after their date.  He confronted her at the end of their next date (why did he wait until the end of the date???) and my mother, ever mindful of la bella figura, more interested in saving face than in explaining, told him to "vai via," go away!  The next week Tom brought flowers and apologies; Mom threw shoes and told him to stay away....eventually this all got worked out, obviously, and Mom maintained her bella figura.

I am reminded oh-so-often how we absorb our parents' ideas and beliefs, through modelling and lecturing and demanding, our parents instill their primal forces in us.  Many times they are so deeply held, we can't even access them, they're just there. 

Soooo, my Italian, American, Italian-American mother brought her curtain-dress, her basement life, her handsome guy with her to Texas (there's another story!) where she lived what she believed, shared her life and her ideas with me, my brother, Scott, and sister, Sandy, guiding us with love and honesty, and overlaid everything with La Bella Figura.

IT'S FRIGGIN' COLD...

As I lie under the down comforter, on top of the mattress warmer, on flannel sheets, in my heavy-duty flannel nightgown, with slippers and socks at the ready by the side of the bed (cuz the marble floor is too damn cold to walk barefoot on)....I wonder, what the heck were we thinking?  More, with all the planning and researching and organizing that went into the heating system, WHAT THE HELL WERE WE THINKING????

Soooo, Nicola, the specially-trained pellet stove technician, after 3 hours, pulled his head out of the fireplace from behind the BRAND NEW pellet stove, shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, tssked and said, "E' rotto; non funzione.  Devo ordinare un nuovo pezzo."  Of course, the new piece he has to order is the MOTHER BOARD of the heating system, the computer that controls EVERYTHING, like the heat.  It'll only be a week and then, he said, "speriamo e' va bene."  WE HOPE IT WILL BE OKAY??????

Cousin Clara, when she heard the story, tsssked, drew her mouth down, shook her head, did the queen wave with her hand and said, "E' cosi in italia...una settemana, un mese, un anno...piano, piano, eventualment c'e riscalda.  C'e vuole pazienza."  It's just this way in Italy, a week, a month, a YEAR...slowly, slowly, eventually it'll heat.  It needs PATIENCE????? 

I told her I'd need to speak with her weekly to remind me of the guiding philosophy of this country....to breath deeply, to stop and smell...the snow, to taste the food, and live each moment.  That's why we're here, these people relish each other and the richness of life.  IF ONLY I COULD GET WARM, I'd breath more deeply.

Actually, we do have space heaters and they make one corner of the living room toasty, the bathroom bearable, and the bedroom not-so-bad.  We are perfecting the art of layering...and look damn good while doing it!

Fingers crossed for the "nuovo pezzo."

from the terrace....

see the roof of the tower??  the flat area is the River Tenna and Monti Sibillini are in the background

Our house is a very, very, very fine house....

our house is directly above my finger...
in the summer that dry area is a lake!!

2 HEROES, THE HEAT, and the TIES THAT BIND--week two

The acquisition of the permesso di soggiorno—or the process thereby—continues….

Hero #1:  An expansive, heart-warming “Ciao!” greeted us as we lumbered out of the car, our arms laden with valuable, valuable Xerox copies.  Claudio, our next door neighbor, was in Monte San Martino (the county seat) for some business and happened to be coming up the hill as we drove in---can anyone say kismet???

Claudio (insert picture here---) is a contadino, a 70-year-old farmer, and has been in Le Marche his entire life.  He owns/runs the chicken farm next door (17,000 free range chickens) and he may be one of the kindest people I know…he is robust (‘cause he’s worked outside his entire life), gregarious, curious, sheltered (he once asked me what the dining room was like on airplanes), bigger than life, well-versed in country ways, and lonely (his wife died about 10 years ago and he has an empty place in his heart and in his life).  

Claudio has adopted us:  every time we see him, he offers a coffee, a glass of wine, his garage to park our car, advice.   So today, when we told him we were off to the Ufficio di Anagrafe, he offered to take us there, after coffee.  Paolo was working, and  Claudio introduced us as his vicini Americani, American neighbors, who need help.  Wowee zowee, Paolo stepped up….he was kind, helpful, and encouraging.  He said he didn’t see a problem, however, he needed to study the paperwork con calme, to be sure everything was in order.  He’d call when we needed to sign the paperwork….however, he didn’t say when that might be….a week, a month, two months?  Yeah, maybe. 

Claudio offered his help without any reservations—I think that is the heart of our interactions, people helping without thinking….Claudio, Hero #1.

Hero #2:  Obviously, with no Italian ID, we couldn’t continue with the buying of the car….so there ensued several conversations with Mario, the car salesman….he ever-trying to find a solution.  I finally said we needed to ferma tutto, stop everything, and il mio marito ed io, my husband and I (because in this country, man-to-man still speaks more strongly than woman-to-man-----I need to address this cultural anomaly in a future blog, for it requires me to actively be passive and let “the man” handle things…..hmmmm, I’ve managed pretty well handling things, so to consciously choose to be less-than-active goes against my grain.  But, if I keep the goal firmly in mind, it helps….more, much more on this later) will be back on Wednesday to collect a check for the full amount.  You’ve never seen/heard such dancing, he’s put so much time into our sale, he got the tags for the car, he’s committed to us getting it…..I held firm… and then called Tina.

I wanted to be sure he understood everything I had said—so I asked Tina to call and reiterate.  She called Cousin Stefano (Hero #2) to make that call for us (the man-to-man thang again).  Stefano is a salesman, and a good one; he’s calm, smooth, sophisticated, empathetic (picture here).  Mario finally agreed when Stefano mentioned we had spoken with the American Embassy and were working on their advice.  We were able to pick up the check with nary-a-problem!  Phew…problem averted.

The heat and the ties need to wait until tomorrow….we’ve been partying in Rome for 5 days….geez, someone has to do it!!!
we were 6 hours into an 8 hour meal....phew!!!

Sunday, January 2, 2011

AT FIRST BLUSH....week one

We were armed, well-armed, with information, research, back up documentation---we were ready to take on the Italian bureaucracy and win!! 

Soooo, we arrive on Christmas day, exhausted after a 24-hour trip (US Airways, by the way, doesn’t have individual screens or name films; AND, they charge for WINE for heaven’s sake, and for EARPHONES on a transcontinental flight---I’ve never heard of such a thing!  BUT, the flight was 1/3 full, so we were able to stretch out---luxury!  NOTE TO SELF:  travel on Christmas Eve does have its advantages.)  And, of course, the family has a big meal planned, hooray, so, comatose as we were, we did manage to eat some fabulous food.  The conversation, however, was in Italian….which normally isn’t a huuuuuge problem, but when we’re sleep-deprived, it presented some miscommunications.

So the plan was simple:  pick up the application for the Permesso di Soggiorno, the permit to stay in Italy for an extended period of time on Monday, fill it out, turn it in the same day, begin shopping for a car on Tuesday, and drive it off the lot the next day.  Simple, huh?

The Perfect Permesso:  Monday we went to the post office, uh, that would be 4 post offices, to get the application form.  The first one didn’t carry them, the second and third post offices carried them, but, hmmmm, they were out, (A GOVERNMENT AGENCY, WAS JUST OUT….!!) the fourth, success!!  4 hours to pick up the paperwork….we dragged home to cousin Tina’s like beaten dogs with jet lag.  Nothing a good meal and a 3 hour nap couldn’t fix!

Filled out the apps that night and bright and early Tuesday morning off we go to get copies of the documentation before turning in the completed apps……looked for a 24-hour Kinko’s in Italy recently??  Non c’e….  Sooooo, we ended up at a bookstore, a lovely “Store around the Corner”-type place where each page was fed into the machine individually and we collated 70 pages by hand….but it was warm and the proprietor made us coffee!  Armed with copies and apps and spirits high, off to the Lavinio Post Office we went…to wait for our number to come up.  Out we were sent, to copy our ENTIRE passport, not just page one----nowhere was this mentioned!  Back again, spirits still high--nope, got to get the Marche di Bollo-- a stamp of sorts-at the Tobacco shop—who knew?  Back again for a third time, fingers crossed….SUCCESS!!   we walked out with the receipt for our permesso which, we’d read and been told, was our key to buying a car!

The Macchina Madness: We easily found the car we wanted, a Hyundai i10 for 7796 euro, new---end of year sale, ya know!  Simple!  We needed to get a Cashier’s check, not so simple, but in 3 hours we can accomplish anything.  So, paperwork was filled out, money delivered, and we needed to wait 2 days for the tags, etc….Simple!  Then insurance…Italian law requires evidence of insurance before any car will be released to a new owner…Cousin Stefano turned us on to an online Insurance company….it was magic!  No visits needed to be made, no miscommunications, easy as pie!  Things were moving right along…Then came the call….Mario, the car salesman said they can’t sell us a car without an Italian identity card…wouldn’t you think he would know that before having all of us spend a lot of time and money???  BUT, he had a plan to work it out which required us coming back home to Le Marche, our Province, getting an id card from the Ufficio di Anagrafe, the census office, which has a record of us being homeowners.  Everything is on hold until tomorrow when we visit the County Seat in Monte San Martino to see what the Anagrafe has to say….

If we can’t get the id card, we’ll need to make arrangements to rent a car until we do; hmmm, not in our budget.   Not to mention cousins Rino, David, Antonella, Santino, and Victoria are all worried we may have trouble getting our money back from Mario, the car dealer---but, they are quick to assure us, they know a good lawyer!

Home again, home again:  we were so excited to be coming home; January first, symbolically beginning our new lives….and our brand new heater doesn’t work….the house was colder inside than outside.  AND…it was Festa…nothing is open on a Festa day, AND, the next day is Sunday, AND, nothing is open on Sundays.  So we took ourselves off to a heated hotel where we are awaiting Monday for shops to open, Anagrafe to help us, the heating system to be fixed and work…and our new life.