Unplanned Happenings

Sometimes I think that it is amazing how we find ourselves in unexpected places in life, and that there is very little that we can truly foresee and plan. I chuckled to myself tonight as I was ragu sauce in my yellow kitchen how funny life is--I could never have imagined even a year ago that I would find myself working as a teacher in an Italian school, attending teacher and parent meetings in Italian. I could not have foreseen working as a copy editor for an art magazine. I could not have foreseen finding such a cute apartment with two very lovely and interesting roommates and a kitchen at my disposal to make my Italian experimental recipes. I really could not have foreseen falling in love with someone in this country--meeting him, in all places, on a train.

In fact, the day that I met Matteo on the train, I wrote a poem as he got off the train as I continued on to Milan. Our encounter had obviously intrigued me enough to write about it.

I debated taking the train
wanting to stay in Genova city
but what does 1 hour serve
with my heavy baggage burden?
Drinking a cafe
watching the beautiful day pass by
outside of the train station doors.
Enough daydreaming, catch the train!
The wrong train, the wrong ticket
Returning to the city, hot and tired
Scanning the train
with disinterest and fatigue.
Then I see you.
Stop.
In front of me,
Behind the dirty window,
Reading a book.
Decision made-easily.
I have no shame to sit close.
You start the conversation.
Yet unaware that I'm foreign.
Italian boy meets American girl.
Journalist meets traveling artist.
Lovely exchange of ideas.
You want to learn English.
I can't stare directly
into your orange eyes.
You give me your number.
I will call.
Intrigue on the train this day.

There is my silly "poem" that I wrote after Matteo got off the train.

In any case, I guess I can admit that I really care about Matteo, and I might be falling in love with him.

It is too late to continue writing, but tomorrow I will write about my school week and another great weekend spent with Matteo.

Happy Halloween

Ahh, I am totally a home body tonight. It is raining outside, and I just took a long shower and made tea. I am debating watching a movie, but it depends on how tired I feel after I'm finished writing.

Today as a whole was boring and frustrating, so I am going to skip talking about it.

Instead I will say that it was a short and sweet week of teaching. I feel as though I am making improvements with how I handle the classes and lessons. I felt like my two lessons on Egyptian art went really well this week, and the students seem decently interested in what I'm teaching. I took them to the computer lab to see my powerpoint because I included a lot of interactive videos and links from the internet. I wish that I had more time to question them and "waste time" during class, but by the time we change classrooms, we pray, I do role call, and they settle down, I only have about 35 minutes of their attention.

My favorite classes by far are my first year middle school students. They are precious, and I can't think of one student that really misbehaves; they are so eager and conscientious! They have such little personalities, and I love looking at them concentrated in their drawings; they are all just so darn cute! Davide is a doll--he has freckles and he speaks with a cockney British accent. "I knooow whaaat to doooo!," he says. I also think its cute when they make mistakes in English. In fact, after our class, it is weird hearing them speaking Italian a million miles a minute.

My one class, 1B, is hilarious. It is all girls and 2 boys. They all crack me up constantly, and it is definitely the class with the biggest personality. Sophie and Giulia sing constantly, and I make them sing in English. They then begin singing the Jonas Brothers. haha. Silvia is the actress of the class, and her personality explodes out of her tiny body--dramatic with a faked attitude: "Ooooooooook-AAAAYYYYY PROF!"--said emphatically. Cheyenne is quiet and sweet as can be, and she works like a crazy woman on her drawings--even carelessly; I usually have to slow her down so she doesn't make mistakes. Andrea is the cutest doll baby ever, and he brings drawings that he does at home to show me; he is proud but waits with anticipation to see my reaction. He is quiet and does his work with precision, but he also cranks out sarcastic jokes aimed at the dominating female force in the class. Luca, his quiet and somewhat spacey partner was absent this week. Daniela is another character, and she is completely different from her older sister who is extremely timid in my other class. She "LOOOOOVES" my name! haha. Very funny, I enjoy my time with them. More on my little studenti another day. You almost wish you could freeze them at that age--before they realize that they can be bad or rowdy confused teens.

Matteo just called me and ended our conversation in English saying, "Dear, I love you much." Sigh...haha, how cute. I had to correct him in he end, but in all honesty he at least wants to learn. I am starting to like him more and more as our relationship grows. He is a very good person, and he is incredibly genuine and sincere. I love when he smiles at me or when I make him laugh--there is a sparkle in his eyes that makes me happy because its real. Sometimes he smiles and catches my eyes and turns serious because he stops to think, and he follows by saying that he cares about me.

We spent practically the whole weekend together. Saturday he came to Milan, and I was out shopping for Halloween costumes with my friend, Israq. He joined us, and I made him buy something to act as a costume. In the end, he bought a top hat, and I made him by sunglasses with the american flag across the face. In the end, I went as a school teacher, and he went as an American boy...haha. We three went to dinner, and I ate a meal that was incredible--It was one of my fav. types of pasta, fusilli, with marinara sauce, roasted eggplant puree, and a fattening, sweet, and heavenly cheese on top. I am literally eating my way through Italy and loving every single morsel of food. Later on, we all went out to a discoteca to dance---and we DANCED! It was wonderful, and I had such a wonderful time just having fun and letting loose. I also met Matteo's best friend, and he was very nice--we hit it off.

The next day, I ended up going on a trip with Matteo after I finished correcting 10 pages of an article for Flashart, the art magazine. He took me on a tour of his city and of the surrounding area, and we found ourselves walking under an awning of gold fall leaves in a park near his house. Also in the local itinerary was a restaurant famed for making incredible paninis-your top top quality of the Italian sandwich. He wasn't joking--It was incredible. Fresh bread, Coppa (Salame that puts hair on your chest) sliced to perfection, a cheese (I forget), and rocket. I almost passed out because I was surprised at how good it actually was. Matteo was pleased that I liked it. After we were done, he couldn't help dragging me into a bakery to have me try, their "Pizzette" or "small pizzas." He knows how much I love food, especially trying new things, and so he gets pleasure out of having me try what he likes best. He says that I am "golosissima"--it basically means that I love food. Eating is an art!!


The city is very very small, in the middle of an expansive flat valley, and everyone seems to know everyone. It was funny seeing Matteo wave to nearly ever car that passed. It was refreshing to see him in his well-known ambient, natural and at ease, driving his familiar roads; it even gave me a sentiment of nostalgia thinking of driving the winding roads leading to my house, past all of my familiarities. We ended up at Matteo's sister's house, and I met his sister, brother-in-law and 8-month old nephew. They are very nice, and his nephew is adorable! Matteo and I played with his nephew, and he is so cute when he holds Mattia. Later on, we went to eat a pizza with his parents at Matteo's favorite pizza joint near his house, and it was cute seeing him ask his mom for her crust. His friend owns the pizzeria, and I felt as if I was being spied by almost everyone working in the restaurant-like they were waiting to see Matteo's new American girlfriend...ha, here I am!


It was slightly intimidating because i am not used to being in a relationship, but I am trying not to flip out. It gets even more interesting: due to the intense fog in his area, he asked me if i would mind staying over for the night...btw, i had Monday off of work. I really didn't want to because i didn't bring anything-clothes,makeup, nothing-, but this improvised pit-stop was unplanned and ended up being very very nice. His grandparents also live at his house, and it was nice meeting them and seeing Matteo interact with his family.

The next day we ate lunch with the family, and we drove back to Milan. He helped me later to go pick up a closet to add to my room furniture. I found a man giving away his closet online for free, and we went to pick it up from a really nice guy named, Mattia. Matteo and Mattia did most of the moving, and later on, Matteo carried mostly everything into my apartment, reassembling it all for me to use. He was so cute sweating over putting the pieces back together in his glasses, and he was very methodical (as opposed to my impatience) When he was finished, he said:"Dear, you are nearly all set up! My dear needed a closet!" It was so sweet of him to go through all of that trouble for me, and he already started talking about when we could go to IKEA to add the finishing touches to make my "bedroom" more functional-haha. We shared a lovely dinner after the "move" at the restaurant next door. I had a delicious pasta al ragu.

He has already told me that he is in love with me, but I havn't told him whether or not I am feeling this sentiment. However, at one point, he grabbed the back of my head--pulled me close--and said, "Dear, I am in love with you, and I don't care if you don't say it because I know you do." Hmmmmm.

He left, and I was sad to see him go.

Last night was my roommates birthday party...stories can wait for tomorrow. Goodnight.

Field Trips, Monks and Nessun Dorma

"Con Teeeeee Partiroooooo',"

...is the song that all the students were screaming and singing on the pullman as it embarked on their field trip. It is the classical Andrea Boccelli aria that has recently been remade in a pop/rock-version for a cellphone commercial. It was a familiar atmosphere, and there was a recognizable energy that all the students expressed despite the early morning departure from the Collegio--a day off! How many times can I place myself in a yellow school bus parting from the confines of the school--claiming my seat, grabbing my lunch, and filled with excitement for a day out of the classroom, with my friends. The atmosphere took me back, recalling my own years of school bus shananigans--and all the classic High School characters were fulfilling their prescribed roles.

However, my nostalgic memories e were finding confusion in this new and lovely confrontation with my past--some things just weren't adding up correctly. This time around, I wasn't the girl running to claim the seat in the back of the bus with my girlfriends--instead, I was perched at the front with my two colleagues, the leader in charge. This time, I wasn't signing permission slips, nor would I be returning to my familiar stomping grounds--I would be headed "home" on a train. This time, I looked out misty morning windows upon foreign landscapes and farmlands. This time, mini-ipods took the place of radios and bulky CD players--and sleek colorful cellphones laughed in the face of our big, unbreakable monsters. This time, evidentially, I found myself in Italy--taking a bunch of Italian students on a field trip. How suddenly the roles have changed, and what a funny feeling it is to relive old memories in a new country and in a different language.

We were headed to a monastery called, "Abbazia Olivetana di San Nicola"--A Benedictine Monastery. It was an absolutely glowing fall day, and the colored leaves were falling and swirling around the pullman as we passed vineyards along the high way. I was tickled at this new experience on an Italian high-school field trip, and my Italian colleagues, Anita and Rossana, are incredible kind and sweet. I talked to Anita for most of the trip--they both graduated with a degree in architecture from the Politechnico school in Milan.

We arrived with the students to our destination in Brescia, and it was a town so small and quiet that you could hear a pin drop all the way to the mountains hovering in the background. The grass was blowing, making swooshing noises, and the air was clean and crisp. I looked out on the cultivated farmlands that extended out into the distance as the faint smell of manure tinged the breezy day. We took the students to the Abbey/Monastery, and the monk, Helios, greeted us from a window above "I'll be right down!"

He gave his introduction of the Baptistery and the Benedictine order of Olivetti, which is a very wide-spread order. He explained, from the best of my understanding, that there were different types of monks that lived in the monastery. For instance, he had already been married with children, but after his wife died, he decided to devote his life to study and reflection inside this monastery. The main monastery of this order is located in Tuscany, in Siena, and there the monks still devote time to scribing texts and restoring old books.

I actually bought some apricot jam, one of many products made near the monastery--and it is delicious!!!

By the way, I am listening to "Nessun Dorma" by Puccini, by Pavarotti. Wow, that is too powerful.

Anyways, back to my day: It was a fantastic church with a mix of Renaissance, Baroque and Roccoco designs. The Baroque designs by Giovan Battista Sassi were incredibly illusionistic, and it is incredible the amount of detail and tromp l'oeil decoration he utilized to make the church walls breath on the wings of angles flying amidst the decorative architecture and up into the clouds. There was a whole stairway and architectural wing of the church that they added through painted decoration, and it was fantastic to see the illusion that the artists created. When you look at all this beauty and artistry, it makes your culture feel like it is so dead and lazy--like we gave up the idea of worthwhile projects of beauty, substituting an idea of mastery for an idea of cheap convenience. In effect, we are a chinsey reflection or maybe even departure from an incredibly rich past of operas.

We got to view the two refectories--in the one there was an incredible ceiling fresco of architecture that if you stood in one place (in the center), it looked like there was another story to the building. In the forestry rectory, there were beautiful frescoes of Romanino.

It was a beautiful day, and I loved the courtyards. They were so peaceful with gentle light beaming down into the galleries enclosing the green area. The light was warm and soothing.



We headed back on the bus, and we stopped at an Autogrille on the way back. Their "rest stops" are incredible, and there really is no comparison to those in the US. Fresh meats, blocks of cheese, fresh pasta, paninos, etc. Anyways, we arrived at the school in Monza, and I went home to crash in my bed. Last night, I went out for a pizza with my Jordanian friend, and we had a really awesome night together.

Alrighty....it is now Halloween and I have to figure out a costume to wear for tonight. Me and a few friends + Matteo will be dressing up and going to a party at a Milanese bar tonight.

To end, my morning youtube searching of Pavarotti, led me to "Nessun Dorma." From that song, I found a video of "Britain's got Talent," from 2007. What you will see in this video is a man, a phone salesman, who after this first audition won the hearts of Britain. Please look at this video that made me cry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA&NR=1&feature=fvwp

Byebye!

Facts and The Letiz, finding accord?

Ittts Monday.


Italian Fact of the day:

The Italian Mind...dissected: Part 1

Let me begin by saying that any cultural phenomenon that hits Italy's soil will always grow into its own creature. From my perspective, understanding and documenting all of the complexities of this society will always be difficult and nearly impossible, but generally categorizing them shouldn't be an insurmountable task. In theory. Categories in Italy will be similar to those recognizable in the US, but they are far from being the same--On Italian soil, as I like to say, they are complex, mysterious, sour, sweet and wound-up tight with everything else that makes this country such a strangely unique creature:

The Italian population in general, is much more "hands on." I mean that literally. The majority of Italians, also depending on the region, tend to be predisposed to physical contact and close-talking. There is not much adherence to the idea of personal space or boundaries, and if they did there would be invasion on all fronts. Even in the simple greeting gesture, Italians (as well as other cultures) get "close and personal." Two kisses, one on each cheek and hugs are the norm, and there is no male-male aversion. In fact, in my opinion, it is very lovely that their greeting is so fraternal.

Fraternal--another word that I would like to expound upon. In general, the relationship that exists between friendship becomes very familial--or relationships that are very accepting and non-exclusive. This may be due to the types of activities in which they normally partake--organizing long dinners for example. I am not saying that Italians are not judgmental and non-accepting, but they do tend to go out in large groups or flocks of friends. Friends and lovers can be formed easily if they chemistry is right, if they are introduced by friends, or if they have something to gain in the relationship--their loyalty generally holds truer in friendship than in love (another fact of the day).

When I mention that they "have something to gain"--I don't necessarily intend that the Italians use one another to boost their reputation or career, but I will say that Italy is not founded strongly in meritocracy--therefore, Italians "help one another" or they "help their friends, brothers, acquaintances-everywhere-usually with pleasure." You are never a lone Italian traveling in the world--your fellow bros are literally everywhere. Hence the reason that my old roommate did an internship in London (through a friend, stayed with a friend, worked with a friend) and didn't speak a world of English the entire time. However, this is also rooted in the strong tradition of "handing down" in this country--"My father was a butcher, I am a butcher, my son will take my place." A part from this sentimental rite of 'handing down,' climbing the ladder in Italy greatly depends on who you know--or your connections.

However, I have found that they have a very open and inviting rapport with one another and newcomers that is refreshing. There is no beating around the bush. They are usually direct, and they don't dance around what they want or how they feel even if their elaborate and elongated sentences make it seem like they do. Especially men!

Girls may talk behind your back, because no country can avoid cattiness, but drama is also a very Italian-made attribute.

There is a very natural and organic--even disorganized--sense of event planning, but most people are laid back so it is natural to casually plan most things at the last minute....aperitivos, dinners, dancing, nights on the town. There is no anxiety, there usually is no fuss, and no worry if your late because everyone will be. Everything is "tranquilla" or "tranquil."

There is a greater cultural interest of the average Italian person--art, video, culture, opera, music, history, CULINARY PALATE, manifestation, awareness, expression, --GOODNESS, ITALY IS EXPRESSION! If I dare say it, Italians are full of expression, but little production. Unfortunately for them, many problems of production are "made in Italy" but you can't fully blame the modern Italian--they are stuck in a "Catch 22". It can be very frustrating (soooo many more facts of the day) BUT BY GOD DO THEY PROTEST AND EXPRESS THEMSELVES!

Okay, Sociology 101 is done for the day....more ponderings on the Italian psyche in future "Facts of the Day."



I went to meet Matteo's parents this weekend for lunch on Saturday, and it went really well. We went to a restaurant in Genova, and it was absolutely FABULOUS. It is a historical place famous for a dutch Rennaissance painter that frequented the joint---nowadays, it is still noted for its cuisine--especially for its seafood. It is noted for its Minestrone--which was delicious! I ate pasta with tuna that was melt in your mouth, and I ate swordfish with potatoes as my second dish. Writing those sentences massacre the experience---I ate SOOO MUCH, and it was delicious!! It was a gorgeous day outside, and we took a small passeggiata before saying goodbye to his parents. They were really nice and down to earth, and I was happy that we had such a nice time together. I actually felt sick to my stomach when Matteo and I were driving home from Genova. Before heading back to Milan, we stopped at IKEA and a place called Castorama (like Lowes) outside the city to buy a few things for my apartment. It was so nice of him to take me there, and we even had a good time.

Today I taught at school, and my day went okay. Me and my Italian counterpart--Lets call her The Letitz (instead of Letizia)--we went to talk to the principal to clear up a few matters. He scheduled the meeting, and he ironed out many issues that we were having in our "collaborative" relationship. The meeting went over rather smoothly, and although we will have future bumps in the road, I believe that we calmly digested the information and found accord. I will now have more freedom to conduct my classes without the fear of messing up her "idea of the project," trying to decrypt her mind and adapting to her changeableness. We'll see how this new chapter of our lovely rapport goes! haha. Wish me luck.

I am going out to eat a pizza, tata for now!

Poem from my Gram

My Gram sent me this poem that I think is wonderful. It is so true:

IVE TRAVELED PATHS YOU'VE
YET TO WALK WALK WALK
WALK LEARNED LESSONS OLD AND NEW.
AND NOW THIS WISDOM OF MY LIFE
I'M BLESSED TO SHARE WITH YOU.
LET KINDNESS SPREAD LIKE SUNSHINE.
EMBRACE THOSE WHO ARE SAD.
RESPECT THEIR DIGNITY;GIVE THEM JOY.
AND LEAVE THEM FEELING GLAD.
FORGIVE THOSE WHO MIGHT HURT YOU
AND THOUGH YOU HAVE YOUR PRIDE
LISTEN CLOSELY TO THEIR VIEWPOINT
TRY TO SEE THE OTHER SIDE.
walk softly when
YOU ARE ANGRY
TRY NOT TO TAKE OFFENSE
INVOKE INVOKE YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR
LAUGHTER'S POWER IS IMENSE.
EXPRESS WHAT YOU ARE FEELING
YOUR BELIEFS YOU SHOULD UPHOLD
DONT SHY AWAY FROM WHAT IS RIGHT
BE COURAGEOUS AND BE BOLD.
KEEP HOPE RIGHT IN YOUR POCKET
IT WILL GUIDE YOU DAY BY DAY
TAKE IT OUT WHEN IT IS NEEDED
WHEN ITS NEAR YOU'LL FIND A WAY
REMEMBER FRIENDS AND FAMILY
OF WHICH YOU ARE A PRECIOUS PART
LOVE DEEPLY AND LOVE TRULY
GIVE FREELY FROM YOUR HEART.
THE WORLD IS FAR FROM PERFECT
THERES CONFLICT AND THERE'S STRIFE
BUT YOU STILL CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE
BY HOW YOU LIVE YOUR LIFE,
AND SO IM VERY BLESSED TO KNOW THE WONDERS YOU WILL DO
BECAUSE YOU ARE OUR GRANDAUGHTER
AND WE BELIEVE IN YOU.

Thank you Gram! I will try to live by these lovely words. I love you!

Teaching lessons, learning lessons.

I will begin this blog by inserting a silly poem that I sent to my girlfriends. It will give you a simple summary of my life this week:

I am sorry for my silence these few days
I have been in a busy craze
I finished a week of being a professoressa
I tried to pass with a bit of finessa

The students are all cute and sweet
and I give them projects to complete
My work would be much easier
if my Italian colleague was breezier

She in fact is a type of b*tch
not willing to give a stitch
I have to be patient and nice
while trying to melt her ice

She is one of the oldest at the school
always used to working by her rule
therefore, I will bide my time
and I will insert Medusa in my rhyme.

Gian and I are doing well
Am I in looove, it's tough to tell.
He came to Milan Thursday, improvised
and I was pleasantly surprised.

After an art show and a good pizza
we then strolled back to casa mizza(mia)
At one point, he turned to me, very sincere
saying, "I believe I am in love with you, Dear."

To put it simply, I like him a lot
We have lots of fun, and I think he's hot
he speaks no inglese and wears dumb socks
and I cant resist his curly locks

He is intelligent and very caring
Passionate and respectful in bearing
Where we are headed, I dont know
I dont care, Im having fun, I go with the flow

I am now in Tuscany having a lovely time
visiting cousins, eating food and drinking wine
Tonight cousin Francesca had some news to share
in June, a second baby she will bear!!!!

Okay, now I'm tired and already said too much
I need to go to bed and things as such
I heard there was a lot of snow your way
I cant believe it, what else can I say/

I leave Florence in a train tomorrow
parting with a bit of sorrow
but I turn to Milan to my activities and such
busy as always, missing my Doves so much!

HAHA. Basically that describes my life for the last few days. Over the weekend, I went to to Florence--Chiesina Uzzanese, near Montecatini Terme--to visit my cousins. I had wanted to visit them since I returned to Italy, and I finally found a bit of calm this weekend to take the trip. It was wonderful to see them, and I feel very welcomed and at home when I spend time with them. Lorenzo, my little cousin, is precious, and I love him so much. He calls me "Carina."

To help you understand the relations of the people I am talking about: Liliana and Giocondo had Matteo and Francesca. Matteo currently lives in London--Francesca lives in Chiesina with Francecso, and their adorable child is Lorenzo. Lorenzo is a fantastic boy, intelligent and full of energy, and he has blond hair and huge lively blue eyes.

Before dinner, Giocondo and Liliana took me to see Luca, a city 20 minutes away. It is one of my favorite cities in Tuscany, and it is a classic and unforgettable pit-stop in the "tour of tuscany." It was one of the only cities not invaded in the history of battling Italian city states, and it functioned for a while under the control of Parma. It is famous for its huge earthen/stone walls that surround the center city--nowadays people bike, run, and take passeggiatas on top of the great walls hugging the city. The sunsets seen from this point are incredible. Luca also had its birth in Etruscan Roman times, and it reminds me very much of Parma in its livable, "built to the measure of man"attributes. It is a proud city with a rich cultural tradition, its typical dishes and culinary products, and it birthed hailed historical figures such as the famous composer, Puccini. The people of Luca are rightly very proud of their city, and there is a society "Lucesi nel Mondo (People from Luca in the World." Basically once every year, the Lucesi around the world in this association return to their city, and they process through the city's various "doors" to the center. They are Italo-Americans, Swiss, and Australians, and they come from all over the world to return to their beloved city.

Liliana, my cousin, had the family over Saturday night for dinner. As we all sat down to eat, Francesca, in her graceful and shy way, asked Francesco if they should relay their news. "What news??" They are expecting another baby in June!!! How fantastic, and I was so excited that I got to be there when she announced it to the family. She found out the day before, and I found them very content, excited, and proud about this new chapter.


This week: I have continued teaching, and it has been going well. I started teaching art history to the students of 1st year high school, and the first lesson covered the Neolithic stone age. Let me tell you, megalithic stone circles are thrilling! haha...NOT. Poor kids. I am throwing in a lot of vocabulary for them as well because there are simple descriptive words that they don't understand in English. Teaching has been going well, but it has been rather challenging because I have absolutely no teaching experience and I have been thrown into the environment completely cold and foreign to the idea of instructing children, grading assignments, giving tests, etc. Not to mention the fact that the Italian schooling/grading system is completely different and confusing. Organization is KEY...and it is hard to be very firm while showing them that I care about them. Anyways, mamma mia! It is an experience, and every day I learn how to handle certain situations, How I should conduct my relationship with the students, how I should properly prepare, if I should try to put more or less information into my lessons, if I should include more discussion or lecture (HS), etc.

The school is beautiful, and I love my english-speaking counterparts. They are Americans from around the country, English folk, Australians, and a girl from Malta. I go and get tea with the English teachers and it is hilarious that tradition. They all have funny and interesting stories of how they ended up in Italy. I enjoy using my American humor/personality with them because I am a bit out of practice. Americans have a wonderful dry sarcasm and self-deprecating humor that Italians just don't get. In general, Italians are more "permaloso" or "touchy", but it all depends on the region, their personality, ect. However, on the whole, the cultures have very different ways of joking around, different funny expressions, and different ways of provoking laughter or conveying emotions. I don't think I am capable of developing a very Italian sense of humor, and even if I was able, I wouldn't know what type of Italian mannerism to adopt--what regional dialect, what wild flying gestures, what facial contortions, what swear words, what expressions, etc.


Kevin is the "Veicolare" (english-speaking) teacher that has been at the school the longest. He is from California, he was a swimmer, and he has a funny and down to earth personality. He is a huge soccer, AC Milan, fan; I still don't know his story-why he is still in Italy, etc. However, I have noticed a ring on his finger, and I am betting that he has remained for love? We will see. Nonetheless, I get along great with Kevin, and I love how I don't have to explain my culture or passions when talking to him. He understands implicitly. Linda is an American from Washington State who found herself in Milan working in fashion. She fell in love, and she remained teaching english and other subjects at the school. Amber is a younger American colleague who is also my coordinator. She is hilarious, and we have a great relationship thus far. I love joking around with her and discussing stories, and we also enjoy being able to make a commentary about the Italian society. For example, it is great to have an Am. friend to share our take on Italian men and how they tick, as a whole, and how they differ from our American boys. Adele and Kevin are from England, and I love having tea with them. The girl from Malta is sweet as pie, and the others that teach elementary are really fun as well--however, we havn't talked much yet.

I have received some nice comments from various students, and one parent told my coordinator that her son "just loves his new art teacher, and he is learning so much!" Another student told her mother that she adores me. These few initial comments are really nice boosts for my confidence. Also, my highschool coordinator was very impressed at the students' attention to my lecture I gave on the importance of "visual communication"--during a substituted class. Ahhh, Sigh....we'll see.

This week was better with the Medusa Italian art teacher, but it will always be a careful balance that I have to reach with her. She has to know that I respect her, she has to feel like she still retains her power, she has to understand that I want to work with her and not against her. I can't impose my ideas, and I really cant propose elaborate projects until she digests the idea of our collaboration better. She actually laughed at me when I wrote their homework on the board--jerk face. I only did that because half the students were missing when she yelled out the homework, and they, at times, don't bring their homework because Letizia does not explain it clearly. Also, we still have to iron out different details of our working relationship, how we conduct the lessons, etc. For instance, I suggested that we talk to the principal on how to grade the different students--we decided to meet at the office after class--and she never showed up. Good old Letizia. However, hopefully we will have a meeting, organized by the principal, on Monday to iron out some guidelines.

Matteo and I are doing very well. I think we are boyfriend/girlfriend now, and I am supposed to meet his freaking parents this weekend in Genova!!! AHHHHH. It is also his father's birthday on Saturday, so I might have to bring a present. My roommates suggested bringing Grappa, the after dinner alcohol. Yikes--I might run away.

He told me that he believes that he is in love with me. I see that every day he becomes mushier and mushier--for instance, he called me his "little strawberry" yesterday. (In reference to the strawberries I have left to paint in the hospital) He also said, "Dear, you are special, the most special person that I know. I really care about you." He is such a considerate and loving boy, and I really enjoy our relationship....I don't know whether or not I should run for the hills. However, I like him enough still to not get scared/disinterested and flee. I don't know where we are going, but I am just trying to take it easy and enjoy the time we spend together. He still doesn't speak English, but he is trying--and it frustrates him when he isn't able to talk. Poor guy. He is coming to see me tonight, and I am excited!

However, I will insert: I had a dream/nightmare last night, and I wrote it down when I woke up. I was about to get married to someone, and I was all ready in my wedding dress. Before the wedding, I went to Mark's house and balled my eyes out. However, I collected myself, and I went to my wedding. It was a crazy themed wedding, and I was very agitated and discontent. I didn't know what to do, I wanted to call the wedding off--but everyone was there and ready to celebrate! I decided in a moment of tragic decision, that I could not go on with the ceremony, collapsing in disolusion in my white dress. In that moment, Mark appeard from the crowd saying: "Everyone, there is no need to leave because there will still be a wedding today. Cara will you marry me?" Ahhhhhhh!!! I might go crazy. I just need to put things in focus--that relationship was almost 5 years agoooooo!!!! I am with Matteo, and I am very happy!

That dream might have been sparked by the fact that the childhood love of my life--Brian--is now engaged. I actually cried a little because I realize that those moments and memories that we have--together in my back yard, swinging on my swingset and looking up at the stars, are now long gone. We played games with the backyard gang for years, flirting and always joking around with one another. I was always so happy when he would come over and smile his pretty smile--but I would always tease, "Out of my yard, Bri!" When it would rain very hard and the water would collect up in our alley way, us kids would all run out to play in "Lake Erie" that had formed. Worms would collect in the rain water, and he once threw a worm at me that landed in my mouth as I was speaking. Unforgettable.

I really "loved" him, and I always pictured myself marrying him back in the day. He was cute with dark hair and green eyes, athletic, and caring. He has grown up to be a fantastic person, and he is now working as a teacher--a very very good teacher. The girl that he will marry has a son, and Brian, in his great gentle and loving capacity, first approached the son to explain his intention and ask him for his permission. He will become a husband and a father in one single moment. Stopp! Time! I command you!

More news:

I think I am starting an internship with an international art magazine in Milan, called Flash Art, and I will be a copy editor, correcting English articles, etc. We'll see, It could be a great opportunity for me to learn about art publishing. I'll let you know more as I start getting involved, but I am correcting my third article today. I love the people that work there, and I am thrilled that it is a magazine that holds painting as an important contemporary art form (as some have shied away from the traditional categories of artistic expression--horrible, this is a tirade of mine). They are all very down to earth, and we had a very lovely interview/chatting session where we laughed and discussed the parameters of this job.

I had my interview on Tuesday, and it was a long long lonnnnng day. I woke up at 5:30am to catch the right train at 6:37am. I taught class at 8:10am, I was a substitute for a class, I prepared for lessons, I taught art, I left at 4:20pm--took at bus, to catch a train, to catch 3 different metros, to walk 5 minutes, to arrive exactly at 5:30pm for my interview. It was insane, but I was completely content after I was finished. After the interview, I took the metro to the Duomo where I decided to marvel at its beauty for 15 minutes, looking at the golden Madonna (Mary) perched at its pinnacle.

I prayed for a bit in the piazza because He has helped me weave my little ways here in Italy, He has protected me, He is with me during my days.

After this blog I have to add--for the peace of various people that read my blog--primarily my grandfather: "Pap, I won't fall in love and remain in Italy! Don't worry, I'll always be coming home!"

Art, Love, and Family

Well it is Friday morning, and I am looking at train times to depart for Florence for two days this weekend to see my cousins. I am trying to think of something small I can bring for my little cousin, Lorenzo.

Yesterday was relaxing after a packed 3 days of teaching and commute, and I ordered my life a bit in the morning. I walked to my university, and it was a lovely autumn day outside with a chilly breeze. The weather has changed, seemingly overnight, here in MIlan, and it is very cold in the morning and at night. I am back to wearing my warm and fuzzy robe when I wake up, and my roommates turned on the heating for the first time yesterday. I decided to go to my university to paint yesterday, and I also took some art magazines out from the library to check out "whats new" in the art world. At the end of my painting session, I met up with my friend, Ishraq.

She is Jordanian, and I think that she is an awesome person. She is studying at Naba, Materials and Textile Designs, and she was literally the first really nice person that I met during the opening orientation in January. It took us until the end of Spring to see one another in the Secretary's office and to decide to hang out beyond the Naba confines. She has a killer fashion sense, and I always love her outfits, shoes, jewelry, her style, everything. She speaks perfect english, and we communicate in English rather than Italian. She lived in New York for several years, working as a freelance architect and for a Jordanian fashion magazine, picking out clothing ensembles for fashion photo shoots from designer showrooms. I loved hearing her explain how all of that functions in the world of fashion, magazine, and documentation.

When she came to my studio yesterday, she explained that she got engaged this summer to her American boyfriend, a photographer in New York. Engaged in her culture literally means married, and they threw a large party in honor of the announcement. There are also many traditional practices that accompany even the engagement, and she tried to make it as easy as possible for her fiance who was trying to learn, understand and embrace these rituals and traditions of a new culture. Ishraq is very level-headed, kind, understanding, and worldly, and she explained how she played "mediator" between her fiance and her family during the crazy whirl-wind engagement (that was decided upon this summer). The best part of the union is that the American's mother is a Christian minister who is a "bit" uncomfortable with her son marrying a Muslim woman.

Her mother did most of the planning based on Ishraq's guidance and wishes, and she recounted how she picked out her dress for the engagement party (which sounds absolutely stunning!) She found a "fabulous" dress in New York with a fantastic cut and unique fit; however, it was black. Therefore, they went to their elderly trusted seamstress, and they presented her with the black dress as a design; they set out on a search for the fabric. Ishraq had this rare and lovely fushia purple in mind (as well as a specific fabric weight to adhere to), and the search turned out to be fruitless in Jordan. Her father is a pilot, and her mother decided to fly cheaply to Bangkok to find the purply material--because "If you can't find material anywhere, you will find it in Bangkok." Ha, Okay! Her mother ended up finding the perfect fabric for the dress. Ishraq picked out a diamond ring that was an emerald surrounded by diamonds. It is very beautiful, and I can tell that she would not settle for the traditional and classical ring based on her tastes. Her idea was to have a dark red/lavendar with her emerald jewelry--I like it!

Matteo came into Milan on a whim on Thursday night because he wanted to see me before my trip to Florence. He finished his exam in Genova, and he raced on the next train to Milan. I was excited when I found out that he was coming to see me. I put away my paints, and Israq and I went to see an art show that I'd been itching to see that was closing the day after. I was originally going to skip out on the opportunity, but I opened my first art magazine and the advertisement for the show was blaring on the first page. I was determined to go. It was a photography show highlighting Letizia Battaglia, one of the most famous women Italian photojournalists from the years of the 70s, 80s and 90s. She was from Palermo and focused he subject matter mostly on the activities of the Sicilian mafia. The other two artists highlighted were a Mexican photojournalist and a Swiss policeman that regularly took pictures of road incidents, or "sculptures of human error." It was a fabulous show at Cardi Black Box.

Italian Fact of the Day:

Most of the biggest galleries in Milan are invisible. What does this mean? Well it is not visible to the street, there is no window advertising, and you wouldn't know that it existed if you were not deliberately searching, address in hand. They are all in the courtyards of buildings in different parts of town. You must know the address, and look on the door bells. Written minutely on the doorbell is the name of the gallery--you buzz. They give you instructions on how to proceed, and they open he door. "Left, cross the courtyard, and straight in the back." You then spot the gallery, and you buzz again to gain entrance. It is quite funny, in my opinion. Of course this is not the case for all of the galleries in Milan by any means; however, those very important galleries or foundations are a bit hard to find, and you must know your "stuff" or play clue in order to discover them.

I was completely impressed with the whole show, and I was disappointed that I missed a lecture given last week by the photojournalist, Letizia Battaglia, and one of my favorite Italian-American journalists, Alexander Stille. I have mentioned him in my blogs before because I read his book, "The Sack of Rome," which talks about Berlusconi's ascension into power. He has also written many books about the Italian "Cosa Nostra," and worked closely with Battaglia in researching and composing his Mafia literature. Stille, from his home in New York, writes articles for the Italian newspaper, "La Reppublica." His writing style is very clear and schematic, and often times in his bipartisan and clear-cut representation of different "truths," the reader is left with a blatant and humorous irony and revelation.

Anyways, Matteo met us at the art show, and he was obviously very intrigued and interested. I thought that he would enjoy the show; he doesn't know anything about art, but he is very passionate about history and journalism. Therefore, I thought this would be a good show to have him see. I am slowly introducing him to the world of art. The important idea in this show was to combine the aesthetic impression mixed with his passion, history and story-telling (journalism, politics, etc). Anyways, he loved it, and he wants a print of his favorite photo. He sent me a message the next day saying, "I was looking at the photos from yesterday, and I think that without you I would not have been able to appreciate all of this beauty." Aw!

Later on, Israq left on her bike, and Matteo and I went to get a pizza. We watched "Grande Torino" by Clint Eastwood (fabulous).

After the movie, he revealed to me that he believes to be in love with me. "Credo di essere innamorato di te." It was very sweet, and I know that he is completely genuine. Although I care for him very much, I have not reached the point where I am in love with him. I explained that he has to be cautious when evaluating his feelings for me and that love has many different levels. He agreed, but he reiterated his deep feelings, telling me how special he thought I was.

Anyways, today I find myself in Chiesina Uzzanese, near Florence. I arrived last night and I spent time with my cousins. It is so great to be back in Tuscany, in this small town. I love it! I am about to go for a walk.

Last night, I relaxed talking with my relatives as we ate a delicious dinner. Before dinnner, Liliana and I stopped to watch a community basketball game where teenagers of Chiesina were playing against a neighboring town. My cousin, Giocondo, was the scorekeeper. He is very involved with the basketball league because he initiated it back in the 80s with some friends, and he coached the teams for many years. I absolutely loved this pit-stop because I felt right at home; I felt as if I was at my high school watching my friends dribble the ball around the court. The only ironic part was that I was so far away from my "home court," from those friends, from that time. It was fun! After dinner, called my cousin Matteo (the son of the couple with which I am staying), who lives in London; it was great to catch up with him! By now, we are like old best friends when we talk. I will be planning a trip to visit him before Christmas, and I can't wait!

If you don't know, I am trying to put together documents to obtain an Italian citizenship through my "blood rights". This requires a TON of work, documents in order, translations, etc....I cant get into it now. However, my cousin, Giocondo, did some research for me in this area, and he found the birth certificates of my great-grandmother, great-grandfather, her parents, and the marriage certificate of her parents. He presented them to me last night, and we read them together. It was amazing to see those documents! We now know the names of my great-great-great grandparents. How cool is that??

Okay, I really want to take a walk before lunch around the town, go visit the church, and get a coffee. Bye bye!

Switzerland and School

Forward: I am exhausted.

Italian Fact of the Day:
What is an aperitivo?

This tradition of the Aperativo, originating in the Lombard region (Milan), is apparently spreading throughout Italy and is becoming more popular. Every restaurant/bar lays out a gormet display of buffet items--cold and hot dishes, cheese trays, meats, bruschetta, etc, and this food comes free with a higher priced cocktail drink. When you pass by all of these places, you see the waiters preparing the food, and it seems like they all compete for their customers with their displays. Certain bars are know for their excellent aperativi, and the people flock to those places! Best during the warm-weather months accompanied by a food-scouting passeggiata.

I had a long day at school today, and thanks to a teachers meeting at 4:30pm, I succeeded in arriving home close to 7:30pm. I feel like I have had little time to do anything since I've been home except cook tortellinis in a pesto sauce.

Letizia, my Italian teaching cohort, was in prime form today ready to be less than cooperative with her English-speaking colleague. She is always friendly and cheerful,but she is not very open to the idea of preparation and working with me to create new exercises and projects that adhere to a clear skill development set. Given the fact that she is the one that insists that our lessons correspond, I find it humorous that she makes absolutely no effort to allow for preparation. Five minutes before the class, we talk about what we did last week, what we could do today, and what project we can assign as the students are settling in their seats. She says that "She likes to make her creative decisions in the field! So planning is impossible." Translated: I have done nearly the same lessons for years, and I do not want to rethink projects, create more complex (challenging/interesting) lessons, or let you share many ideas because this is my show. Patience. Patience and maybe slowly we'll work something out that feels more natural. I asked her at the end of our lesson if it was possible to find 5 minutes in the week to discuss our lessons for the following week, so as to give me the time to prepare my thoughts, discussions, or a proposal of projects/powerpoints. She said, "No, and went into yapping about how busy she was--that plus the spontaneous nature of her lessons." Thanks Letiz, your the best. Keep in tuned to my wooing battle versus the she-art-beast.


Despite her and the added discomfort of the collaboration, I love the students so far! I am very comfortable teaching them (as long as I'm sure of Letizia's instructions.) I am most happy when they are totally my ideas and assignments because I have the confidence in knowing what I want, what I'm teaching, and what I expect. Oh well. Let's give it some time. I do get free supplies--how cool is that??

On Saturday, Matteo and I decided to take a day trip to Lugano, in Switzerland. He looked at me in the morning and said--"instead of going to IKEA, lets go to Switzerland!" "You don't have to ask me twice!" I really like him, and I wish I could remember all of the sweet things he tells me. He now officially calls me, "Dear," because it is the direct translation of my name (before the noun). The other night I was explaining something over Skype, and he wrote a message to me (as I was speaking) that said, "You are so beautiful, Dear." He is considerate, and he is always the perfect gentleman. We had fun singing along to his i-pod mix of Italian, English and British music--with a surprisingly large selection from the 80s--in the car during our short "road trip;" he even agreed to talk for about 20 minutes with me in English, which was very cute. We had a fabulous and carefree day together; as we were driving in the car with the mountains outside our windows, I breathed in deeply as the breeze from the windows hit my face, and I felt pure happiness to be in that moment--completely content--for the day, for the weather, for good company, for everything. We ate creamy Swiss chocolate and Bretzels, we took a passaggiata through the quaint Swiss-Italian city. We then strolled through the park, hand in hand, walking along the lake embedded in the mountains.

The park was beautiful, filled with pristine and sculpted gardens, romantic trees cascading over the lake, and spots of shad and sunlight. As we were walking along the stone pathway, we saw something so utterly simple and fantastic that I won't forget it for a long time. There was a couple, a bride and a groom, dancing on a red park bench by the lake while a violinist played sitting at their side. They twirled around on this red bench in their own little world until the end of the song, as if they were on a mountain top. It was so adorable, Matteo and I both were gooing over the perfect ending to an American cheesy love story. Discussing it later, we even talked about the camera angles: the camera would circle around the couple, alternating between their gazes, with one circling their faces. He would say, "Who would have thought I'd meet you here, again." Camera zooms up in the air and you see them twirling around from the aerial view. The end.

We drove home around dinner time, and I cooked a very simple buy yummy pasta dish with tomatoe sauce while Matteo read aloud Newspaper articles from the NY times about Obama's Nobel Peace Prize. He is so cute when he puts on his reading glasses. I just finished reading the article he wrote questioning the feasibility of nuclear energy in Italy.

Okay..bed time. I have school tomorrow.

School and MURALS FINISHED!

I am cooking pasta tonight, and I think it is going to be delicious. I am making hot sausage sauce with my own tangs and additions. There is one good thing about not owning a true Italian cookbook and not having any US measurements to make anything you were used to making. It makes you improvise and think on your toes! haha. I love cooking, and I think I am improving!

OMG--on a side note, I just ate my dinner. It was SO DELICIOUS!! I always make enough for two or three dinners so that I can eat the rest during the week. I want to buy the Italian mother cookbook "Cucchiaio Argento," and I'm hoping that my parents can give me this as an anticipated Christmas gift so I can become meaner in the kitchen!

I had a lovely day at school today, and I was able to leave early around 2pm. I taught two art classes with my Italian colleague. The first class is 3rd year middle school students, and they are incredibly sweet. We were continuing the project that she started on my first day. I really enjoyed the second class because all of my kids in veicolare "english track" are incredibly smart. However, I enjoy ALL of the children in this class, and they are really eager to learn. They are also very self-conscious to make sure that they are doing the right thing. This is also probably because this art teacher, in my opinion, doesn't explain the projects well to the class, and she changes her opinion often. Sometimes, she doesn't really make sense. The other day she said that a rainbow wasn't symmetrical. I was totally confused--a rainbow in its essence, cut in half, is a perfectly symmetrical form in nature.

My challenge in teaching art will finding a way to collaborate with the Italian art teacher. She is one of the oldest teachers at the school, and she has been teaching this program for years and years. I was also informed by the principal, who believes in transparency, that she wasn't happy that her classes would become a part of the "Veicolare program," meaning that they would take away some of the students from her classes. She has a bold personality during class; she makes sarcastic jokes with the students but also scolds them harshly. She wears funky glasses, has bangs, has a more casual and colorful sense of style, and you can tell that she has a creative personality. I think that she is making an attempt to work with me. She, thus far, has been very nice to me, but I can tell that she isn't ready to accept my suggestions. She needs to remain as head honcho--or feel as if she is completely in charge.

My plan of attack? Suck up to her as much as I can, and continue to subliminally propose some of my ideas--hoping to then convince her that they are her own. I hope that we can strike a friendship where she would be more willing to accept my ideas. However, given the fact that she gives grades based on the students' precision and shoots out comments that make absolutely no sense, I feel as if I will have to swallow some difficult pills in the begging. Precision in art? Okay, I understand the concept...but making these students feel inadequate because they cant draw millions of straight "marks" on the page is absurd. Some of the best artists aren't able to "stay in the lines." Art is creative expression, not "straight line boot camp." However, I can accept some of the lessons for the sake of learning the fundamentals.

Okay...at this point I will skip two days to finish this blog:

Yesterday, I officially finished the murals in the hospital!!! After my morning meeting at school, I came home around the early afternoon. I wrote some emails and did some art history research, and I headed to the hospital.

I stayed in the hospital until 11pm painting to finish the last wall section to complete the murals in the waiting room. FINALLY!!!! Many designs and 20 METERS OF PAINTED SPACE LATER...CARA FINISHES HER MURAL PAINTING PROJECT. Since February in the planning, I have to say that the murals are absolutely beautiful, and I, with the help of my graphic designer friend, Massimiliano, painted and decorated the whole wing of Neurology at the Ospedale dei Bambini di Buzzi in Milan!! Tomorrow morning, I will be going to the hospital to take pictures and paint two strawberries near the elevator. I will post a few when they are ready. Three cheers for me!

Today, I SLEPT IN! I also cleaned the whole apartment from top to bottom, organized everything, went shopping, picked up dry cleaning, did 4 loads of laundry...I was on fire. I am now waiting for Matteo to arrive.

I have to run out to get a bottle of wine, but if I return in time, I'll write my Italian Fact of the Day later.

Take the time to smell the Roses!

I am about to write a blog that I hope doesn't end up being entirely too long because I have so much to do before bed tonight!

First of all, today I was coming home from one of my first days at WORK, and I was extremely exhausted. I have a rather long commute,and after waking up at 6am combined with a full day of teaching takes the energy right out of you. The commute ideally includes a train in the morning from the metro stop 5 minutes away from my house, and I ride for 35 minutes on a slow train until I arrive in Monza, a city just north of Milan. After I arrive at the train station, I then must take a bus or walk to the school which takes about 15-25 minutes based on your choice. However, this morning I chose to take the bus, and it took 30 minutes due to waiting and traffic! I was so annoyed. Tomorrow, I will walk to the school or take a more direct bus, on advice of a friend at school. If I miss trains, the whole process becomes much more complicated. Cough, I wont get into it!

In any case, I arrived home dragging my feet, and I entered the courtyard of my apartment complex after the long transit! There are beautiful rose bushes that grow alongside the walkway-white and red, and I passed them thinking about how I wanted to smell them. The thought of actually smelling the roses hadn't even crossed my mind because I was focused on getting home and on my schedule for the evening--I did not have "time" to "smell the roses" because there was "too much to do!" I didn't walk five steps before I realized what a huge hypocrite I was and how insanely self-punishing I was being. I literally about-faced in that instant, and I returned to the roses to smell them for at least 30 seconds--all of the roses, each one! I then laughed hysterically at myself in my cliched and literal enactment of the expression.

I have gone to school these two days dressed in the only "teacher outfits" that I can muster out of my wardrobe, and I have to go on a shopping trip to buy more professional clothes. I have really enjoyed these days at school because everyone has been very welcoming to me--both the Italian and English teachers, the principals, my coordinators, and the director of the school. It is a bit daunting to start teaching next week and to have complete control over the class; these days I have only been shadowing primarily the one art teacher with whom I will be collaborating to teach these children.

I never thought I would be a teacher at this level of education, and it is a very interesting and illuminating experience for three reasons:

1. I have never been on this side of the teacher-student relationship, and I realize how extremely difficult it is to be a good teacher who cares about their students. I never thought about all of the preparation goes into creating stimulating lessons that cover the material within certain time frames.

2. I am also learning how teachers think behind the scenes in reaction to their students' progress. I can't imagine how hard it will be to give some of those students bad grades, especially in art.

3. The Italian schooling system is so very different! It is very traditional, strict, and bureaucratic. They have different teaching objectives that are slightly archaic to meet for every year, and it is not a very conducive environment for the well-rounded contemporary education of the children. I will write a blog solely on the education system soon, but it is too complicated to explain tonight.

Overall, the students for the most part are extremely polite, and I was impressed with the overall respect and regard given to their teachers, and they are all very curious in class. In the hallways, they all make sure to greet every teacher, and at the end of the day the line of students leaving look up, smile, and say: "Arrivederci Prof!"--those that study English speak to me in English. There are so many rules for the children in this school, and it is a very stressful for them in my opinion. They all carry these HUGE bookbags around with wheels, even the little ones. Middle school: They also aren't allowed to go to the bathroom during or after class, and they can't walk in the halls alone--they are only supposed to "go" during their breaks of the day. This makes it very uncomfortable to turn them down, and I will warn my students that they should make a point to use the bathroom before my class so I am not put in an awkward position. (This goes for me as well!).

The classes I have entered thus far have been very rewarding experiences. Particularly in the first year of middle school, the students look up to the teacher with gleaming eyes as they ask questions. They are so curious,innocent and sweet, and they all brought up their designs yesterday to ask questions or ask for my approval: "Prof, is this okay--look what I've drawn--these are the people and--is this what we were supposed to do?" it makes me happy, and it tickles me to see the light in their face when I say nice things about their drawings. The one student said, "Prof, what do you think? Usually I am very bad in art." I responded--"I don't believe that one bit, I think you are really great." "Really!!"--he was so content.

Yesterday we taught in Italian, but the students following the English program asked me questions in English. (Students in their first year of middle school) They have already reached a very proficient level of English, it is very impressive. Many of them have cute little British or Australian accents because their teachers in the elementary school have passed it on to them. After the high school, I have noticed, the students usually pick up an American accent because most of the middle/high school teachers are American. haha. Next week, I will be taking those in the Veicolare (English Speaking) program to a different room to learn. However, I enjoyed conducting the lesson in Italian and responding to all of their little questions.

My challenge:

Italian Fact of the Day:

I went to by a hair straightener because the Italian hairdresser on Saturday gave me a huge crop of bangs!! I am now a very exaggerated Italian-looking girl, and my wavy unruly hair is not very hospitable to this new bang-do.

Of course you can't find hair straighteners in any of the stores that you might guess like the profumeria, the store for cosmetics and hair products, or a general department store, very small called UPIM. Instead I had to find a Electrical-Domestics store. It is usually frustrating that you have to walk all over creation to find different stores that specialize in your category of product, and sometimes, in the case of my hair straightener, it almost doesn't make sense that they would sell that with Mixers and coffee machines. whatever...


Fact: Italy still has tons of specialty stores, and the owners take much pride in their products and customers. Their are specialty stores of every kind, and the service is incredibly personable.

In fact, I approached the woman behind the desk who was chatting casually with her family members hanging about the store, and I asked, "Excuse me mam, you don't happen to sell hair straighteners?" They weren't displayed in the store, and I was sure that they didn't sell them. However, in fact, she had them in her back room! She went back as if she was pulling out high-quality Tiffany diamond-rings out of the safes for my viewing consumer pleasure. She then laid five out on the table in front of me, presenting me with an array of shapes and sizes, and she gave an extensive description of each one. It was as if hair-straighteners were her sole product, and she was very proud to display the variety and their function--as if she had just finished making them in the back room. I decided on one, and I left contented.

Now I have a hair straightener to tame my new bangs, and you know a little more about Italian specialty stores and customer service.

I was so tired last night, I couldn't finish the blog. Soo, I have just finished my coffee, and I have to get ready for my commute to school! On an ending note, I think we should all "take the time to smell the roses."

Response to Multi-Tasking

I read a blog in the New York Times from yesterday's "Idea of the Day" that was really intriguing. So intriguing that I thought it absolutely necessary to waste my time writing a response to the article. You can find the "Idea of the Day" about the "Twilight of Polymaths" at the site below:

http://ideas.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/29/twilight-of-the-polymaths/


Our society discourages the young enterprising polymath because there is no place for them outside of academia. The polymath is forced to create this “place” or “many places” in which they can produce, while supporting the habit.

This goal barely makes sense in this crisis credit-crunched job-hopping society. Many aren’t interested in the pursuit of intelligence, but at best the majority is in the pursuit of resume building. Goals in this day and age are much more short-sighted and quick-fixed, salary at the end of the month.

Like James, I do believe that society is in need of the depth of specialty. However, the polymath, equipped with a more expansive general knowledge can survey the scene with the eyes of someone who is the project manager of a Cathedral–he has the capability of thinking “outside of the box” or utilizing creative approaches to connect uncanny truths or solutions.

Obviously society today is not structured for “cathedral-building projects”; however this concept could be more aptly applied to an approach to solving wide-ranging problems in society.

However, in a society that creates Wal-Mart sized blockbusters and one hit grand-slams, it is no wonder that we can’t see past the punch, past the ticket sales. With all respect given to the specialized intellectual–can we please recognize the gross lack of creative thinking and long-term consideration or foresight. Crisis anyone?

— Young Multi-Tasker

Generally the article discusses that today's society focuses more on the specialized intellectual rather than a polymath (intellectual specializing in various fields in focused or generalized approaches) like Leonardo daVinci. The article also discusses how the intellectual capacity versus productivity has decreased greatly since the likes of Einstein.

I didn't write this because I am a multi-tasker. I wrote it out of my respect for Michelangelo, well-made things, and the idea of endurance. I also wrote because I am inspired by Ken Follett's novel, "Pillars of the Earth"--a book about Cathedral building.


It also has something to do with the previous blog that I wrote in response to my roof-top Duomo experience. haha.

Have a good evening!

Cathedral Dates...

Sept 30, 2009

Matteo visited me yesterday morning, and he was to arrive at 2pm. Hahaha. I was busy writing my “Parma” blog, leaving an hour to shower and look pretty before his arrival. He, in his adorable thoughtfulness, decided to arrive 1 hour early to surprise me with a bagel and his presence! Oh my goodness, lets just say that I would have been much more pleasantly surprised had I not been writing in my blog and not showered! I dashed around the house in a frantic trying to tidy my room, throw on some makeup, and put on at least deodorant and a pair of jeans. Mamma Mia! Oh well…It happened as so.

He was very cute, and he was happy to give me his surprise of an “American bagel” and he had bought me one of his favorite films of all time, “Quinto Potere” or “Fifth Power?”—it is an older film. How sweet! He read the paper as I showered and got ready, and I presented him to my roommate from Sardinia, Viola, and they talked for a while in the kitchen.

We took a walk, talked in the park, got a coffee, and roamed to Piazza Duomo. He asked me if I’d like to go to the top of the Duomo….what a great idea! I had never gone to the top before, and I had been wanting to for some time!! He had never taken the climb either, and he told me that his grandparents took a picture together from the top when they were first married. It was a gorgeous day, clear sky, with hot sun beating down on the cathedral. We climbed to the top, and I took many pictures from this lofty magnanimous marble rooftop of Milan.

Cathedrals will always be unimaginable feats of human hands, minds, ideas, and beliefs. Viewing the large and ornate buttresses of the church, the grand dynamic forms, and its many carved intricacies truly is humbling and uplifting at the same time. The light of the day fell in and out of crevices, sparkling around and about statues and pinnacled structures, and the colors bounced off the white emitting a heavenly glow.

Once on the top, we literally walked on the roof tiles!! There were many tourists exploring the rooftop, lounging on the marble nest, and taking in the view and the sunshine-primarily Chinese, go figure. We just sat in the sun for a while. He gave me sweet kisses, and I went about taking my photos like a mad woman. I like this boy, and it was nice to share that experience with him.

There was an interesting blog article about using Cathedral-mentalities to solve the bigger problems in our world like environmental resources, etc. I’ve always been bothered by the idea of the fast ever-changing product of poor quality has diminished the idea of permanent lasting projects of value and beauty. However, when applying this “cathedral mentality” to our current socio-political problems (instead of tangible products), it becomes interesting and not so incredibly depressing. Read:

http://dotearth.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/27/on-cathedrals-dreams-and-climate/?scp=1&sq=cathedrals&st=cse

Matteo and I got a Panzerotto—a famous guilty-pleasure food in Milan, which is fried dough with sauce, cheese, prosciutto, or many other combinations inside. We claimed a bench in the piazza outside The Scala, and he laid his head on my lap as we laughed and talked about tons of things…primarily laughing about my embarrassing episode from two weeks ago.

That night we went out for an aperitivo, and we met Benni and friends at the Columns of San Lorenzo for some drinks. We had a fabulous night, and I was happy to see that Matteo excels in public personal relations. He is very easy going and friendly-I like that.

I really like Matteo, and it comes as almost surprising to me. He is so sweet and considerate, and we enjoy one another’s company. He is respectful, and he asks me often, “Where did you come from!” He has also said, “I love the way your mind works.” Haha! Which is funny because I’m lucky to express myself when discussing complex issues in Italian. Given my tendency to digress in English, this becomes even more hilariously exaggerated when it takes me longer to arrive at my thoughts and their “supporting material.” Sometimes I close subjects--for my own satisfaction of finishing an argument--hours later because I never return from digressions in Italian. He is a good listener and teacher--helping me out when I need a grammatical boost to finish the sentence! In fact, I get 3 kisses when I say something complicated--is that cute or obnoxious? haha

We have interesting conversations as well, which is important to me. Oh….and he likes saying that I am a “crazy and strange American girl,” laughing at me with a tender smile. Another line becoming more frequent is that I am “a very difficult girl,” originally blurted out by yours truly! Apparently I can’t hide my goofy and complex inner circles in any continent or language—and this is incredibly amusing! I am glad, however, that he likes me exactly for who I am.

I introduced him to my sister last night—haha, it was hilarious. He gets so embarrassed to speak English, and I was teasing him and translating for him and my sister. These conversations fluster him enough to say, “Che ignoranza! Mi vergogno (what ignorance, I am embarrassed).” I think it has ignited a fire to learn English, which would be great!

Parmesan weekend-DELECTABLE

September 30th, 2009

A weekend with the Parmesans

I spent the weekend in Parma with my girlfriend, Benedetta who is studying in Milan at Bocconi. It was a fantastic weekend, to say the very least, and a wonderful opportunity to discover another city in Italy.

Aside: I chose to write today in a park, and three little girls dressed in fuschia pink are running around me. They a flying around like little bees, swarming around me, the little one bouncing behind the others. They all are taking turns presenting me with pink flowers snatched from the nearest bush, and they giggle as they give me the pretty "presents." HOW CUTE!!!! They just asked me if they could make designs in my notebook, and of course I let them willingly draw all over this page. They are so adorable-with curly hair and one girl with clear glassy-blue eyes and dark messy hair. The youngest is precious, and she has rosy cheeks with bright chocolate eyes. They are so full of joy it makes me happy! Italian children and children in general are incredibly beautiful, it is striking.

Now this page is covered with their little drawings--the little ideas of the world, what they know and see, their imaginations at work so carelessly and freely, effortlessly. How wonderful! The one exclaimed that her sister was designing a belltower or "campanile". How fun to write between their scribbles of flowers, what-nots, and a faint "line drawing" made by the youngest who was the last to take her turn as the others ran away. The one boy who joined the bunch wanted to use a new page to trace his matchbox car, and he designed race car designs and numbers to his tracing. The church bells just started ringing, and there is a dog that is howling in tune along with the bells. There is an elderly woman in a wheel chair, and her caretakers are talking to her in the way that I am speaking to the little girls running around me. Life and its full circles. The air is filled with the voices of screaming children--hanging on trees, playing invented games, pushing strollers, and the sun is slowly sinking. haha, I am not surrounded by pink flowers, and the one girl with the blue eyes exclaimed as she was bouncing around, "She and I are dressed the same! That's because we're sisters!! hahaha!!" Twirl, giggle, hop, flight! I miss my sisters.

The mother came to collect the children so as to "let the nice lady alone." They are off now in another field playing. The simple things are so beautiful in life. I think that we adults will never fully learn the lesson that to live with childish joy and acceptance, and even wonder, is the key to happiness. Since when did growing up wilt away our soulful energy? Its like in the movie the "Christmas Story" where the grown-ups can't hear the bells of Christmas because the spirit of youthful joy leaves their hearts. Adults often miss the point. Its not like we all have the time to run around in fields scraping our knees, but they gave me flowers, and it made me happy.


Returning to Parma:

The weekend was FABULOUS! I will try not to give a long-winded summary, but it might be hard. Parma is a city built to the exact measure of the man and all his necessities, is what my new friend, Giacomo, said to me. It is one of the most livable cities in Italy, and it is renowned for its cultural preservation and appreciation. It is a city that was born in the Roman times, and since then, the people have been paving the the streets with their daily agendas, traditions, and communal habits.

It is located in the region of Italy called Emiglia Romagna, famed for its culinary expertise--the indisputable Mecca of the Italian kitchen to which every Italian tips his hat in acknowledged respect for these everyday practitioners of impeccable cuisine and alimentary product--a place where dishes ooze of infused flavor, simple style, and melt-in-your-mouth textures. Products of the highest quality are a necessity given the trained and scrutinizing taste buds of the region, let alone the country as a whole. I have not yet discussed the genetic sensitivity, precision, and hound-dog skill of the Italian palate, but it is a cut above the rest-superior-or trained from birth to measure and judge the quality of their food. This fact is for another "Italian Fact of the Day," but it was necessary to insert in my homage to this region. When I speak of the level of expectation from the people born and bread in Emiglia Romagna, in this case-the Parmesani, we are talking about pleasing serious, lean, and mean food critics. An infant cries to his mom--"Bahahahblahgla"--Translation: "Woah, Ma', there is way to much salt. Psssht." Okay, maybe I exaggerate, but you get the picture. From their famous prosciuto hams and cured meats to the infamous Parmesan cheese and sweets--the list goes on endlessly!

A part from the notoriety in the world of the kitchen, they also have a deep-rooted cultural tradition as a city known for their passion for melodrama. The arts were patroned in this city by the Farnese family during the turn of the 16th century, and music, opera, poetry and art have always been inspired and cultivated in this center. The famous opera composer, Verdi, is among the list of proud Parmesans, and in fact a festival in his honor is quickly approaching in October. Many of my new Parmesan friends have season tickets to the shows during theater season at the Teatro Regio, a theater inaugurated by the Duchess of Parma, Maria Luigia d'Asburgo, the wife of Napoleon, with the lyric opera, Zaira, by Vincenzo Bellini in 1829.

As soon as we arrived in Parma, Benedetta took me around a quick and grand tour of the city. Piazza Garibaldi, on of the principle piazzas and gathering points of the city shined brightly in the afternoon light for my newly gazing eyes. She took me to the Duomo where I was again taken aback by the simple Romanesque facade and the lavishly decorated and frescoed interior. The designs were covering every wall surface, and it was as if it grew like ivy over the years, suffocating the walls with angels, saints, and biblical stories. Antonio di Correggio’s ceiling frescoes in the cupola of the Duomo are phenomenal, a sensual illusionistic painter that foreshadowed later Baroque and Rococo art, but never achieving great recognition outside Parma during his time. He might be one of my all time favorite Renaissance artists, and the dramatism of his work makes you dizzy in the swirling flurry of angels amassing in tornado circles as the clouds open up to let Christ ascend into the gold of heaven. Coreggio’s work can also be found in the church situated behind the Duomo, San Giovanni Evangelista, a church that accompanies its monastic complex.

I will stop giving a history lesson, but I will say that the combination of its history produced a vibrant and beautiful city, and the colors of the buildings are sunny and citrus, almost as delicious as its food!

Benni took me to her favorite gelateria, K2, and it was luscious and creamily delicious. If you ever thought that Italian ice cream has no ranking, you are wrong. I’ve never had a gelato so velvety lovely—I almost passed out after eating the chocolate, “Fior di Nutella”. She guided me around the winding streets, pointing out buildings and monuments and greeting many familiar friends and faces along the way.

Friday night we went to the graduation party of two of Benni’s friends and my acquaintances who were having a joint graduation party. They decided to have an aperitivo-style (appetizer/drink event) festa at a bar in the main piazza. I interrupt for the…

Italian Fact of the Day:

Graduation parties:

In the USA: we have a huge celebration for the high school graduation, inviting all of our friends and family to an organized party in the honor of our high school achievements. College graduation parties are not usually organized and widely popular.

In Italy: There is never a celebration for their graduation from their 5 years attending high school. They always celebrate the “festa di laurea” according to their graduations from university. Why do I say “graduations?” Well, the university system in Italia is broken up into two sections: Triennio (3 year) and the Biennio (2 year) degrees. The Biennio specializing degree is usually a necessary component to the Triennio degree, which comprises more general studies. They write a thesis for both. The “festa di laurea” is a very popular event, and there are fun traditions of playing jokes, presenting gag gifts, and writing funny/embarassing poems about the graduates. Of course in Italy, they have two graduations, celebrating both with high-flying regales and colors.

Allora, where was I?? Okay, we went to the party. There were tons of friends, and I met a sack of Parmesan people. Haha, I just translated an Italian expression, “Sacco di gente”, literally—a “Sack of People” instead of “Ton.” We drank wine and the popular “spritz” drink while conversing. Everyone I met was all very welcoming and friendly.

Later we went to a discoteca club, and we all danced until 5:30am to a ridiculous mixture of Italian/English/American 80’s music. I remember looking around at the dance floor at 4am, as “Dancing Queen” was playing, thinking about how absurd the whole array of people and dance moves were. Our feet stuck to the floor due to the “spillage” of drinks. We crashed at her friend’s house for the night.

Her friend’s house was the equivalent of a Parmesan mansion in apartment form! Her dad is a noted Architect in the area, and I enjoyed the taste of the house immensely. There were two floors, high frescoed-ceilings, incredible furniture and accent pieces, and I was very impressed with the paintings hung in the house. A perfect mixture of old structures meeting modern day convenience, style, and technology. I slept in a bed on the second floor with a leopard-skin cover and headboard. We all laughed because I got to sleep in the second-floor “leopard-room,” sharing the bed with their friend Luca (adding to the joke.) No, I didn’t even kiss him! We are just friends, and we both passed out at 6:30am after the group chatted in the kitchen and the girls danced to the “Spice Girls” in her living room at ear-piercing volumes. I bet the angels in that ceiling fresco and antique mammoth chandelier never thought they’d hear the likes of the Spice Girls pumping through hidden booming speakers through the house. If I can personify them for a moment, I would guess they were crying.

The next day we ate lunch at Benni’s grandparent’s house. They own a furniture store in Parma, which she pointed out to me the day before. She spends every Saturday afternoon eating lunch with them, and they kindly invited me for this weekend occasion. We came bearing gifts of different foccacia breads and arancini (Breaded rice balls with meat and sausage stuffed inside—the size of small oranges, or “arancini”). I also chugged water to get rid of my headache induced by nocturnal dancing and wine-drinking. Benni told her grandparents to change up the menu this Saturday because she was unsure if I would like their normal meal, which is eating high-grade meat bought fresh from the machellaio (butcher)—HORSE!!!—but I insisted on sticking to tradition! I wanted to try it! Her grandparents were adorable and very kind and welcoming.

Her grandparents asked me many questions, and they conversed with their two granddaughters, Benni and Bianca, her sister. Her grandmother LOADED my plate with a mushroom-sauced Pasta for our first course, so much that the thick noodles were draping over the size of the curved plate! I could barely fit it all in my stomach, but if I have learned anything from having two doting grandmothers who are amazing cooks in the Italian kitchen—Never leave anything on your plate or it is the biggest insult to the love-labored meal and its maker! I stuffed all 10 pounds of delicious savory pasta in my stomach, washing it down with sparkling water. Last to finish.

We then dug into the foccaccia breads and arancini rice balls as her grandmother prepared the second course, the horse! They asked me if I wanted to eat it crude, as does habitually her grandfather—who literally spreads the raw horse meat on bread as if it were peanut butter! I kindly refused saying that I’d eat it partially cooked with Benni—one step at a time! It is hard to find horse meat, even in Italy; however, they have gone to their trusted Parmesan butcher for years who produces fine cuts of the regal beast. Bianca, the younger sister, never participates in the horse-meat meal, having given it up after she rode a horse for the first time. Drum rollllllllllll--------It was delicious!!!!

Later that evening, the itinerary was to walk around the outdoor “BoulevArt” art show of young Parmesan artists. This was a lovely event sponsored by all of the stores in the center of Parma that featured a street display of 300 artists, predominantly photographers. Taken from its flyer: “A unique event for Parma: Art shows, concerts, dance, theatrical performances, the exit from the darkness of drawers, hundreds of artistic products, fruit of young Parmesan creative minds between the ages of 14 and 35…a multitude of places in which young artists can express their art freely, also through elaboration of “en plain air” (outside) operas…” It was an open theater of art and performance lining every street—all of the stores remaining open as well--until midnight. Okay you get the idea! I was in my glory. Benni’s two friends were displaying their photography in the outdoor show.

This night was fantastic, and Parma was dressed at its best, the art show augmenting the vibrancy of the night. The life of Parma was so consuming and vivacious that I felt like it was actually inhaling and giving back breath to its nightly crowd. The city was way more than its parts; “life” was tangible and ripe to bite and experience its spectrum of flavor as if it were a juicy zangy orange or a chunk of aged Parmesan cheese. People were in droves, participating in the evening passeggiata and swarming in particular high numbers to appreciate the art and support their fellow friends and their art displays. The passeggiata can also be called, in a newly-coined term (by me), “peacocking” in its most conceited form.

I was meeting many many more Parmesan friends, and I revisited many that were at the graduation festival from the night before. We roamed through the sea of heads, and we stopped frequently to greet the many passing friends and acquaintences. In fact, we moved like snails—inch by inch—“ciao” by “ciao”! Parma, despite its many attributes, is richly packed into a rather small city, livable, hospitable. Therefore, there is a strong spirit of the collective unity and cordial recognition between the inhabitants of the town: spirit of place, home, family, friend, neighbor, comradarie, collective memory, gossip, sharing of business. One friend in particular, Giacomo, is hilarious with an animated disposition, and we hit it off from the beginning. He seemed to know everyone in the city, and I found his personable relationship with everyone very tickling and amusing—almost nostalgic for that idea or experience of “community.” However, he also explained that Parma, at times, can become “way too small” with regards to information.

He is a photographer, and we enjoyed walking around amidst all of the art displays discussing the merit of the artists and our favorite photos. There were antique markets and young street performers improvising for crowds as they sat down for outside dinner seating. I almost bought an antique Italian-Latin dictionary from 1839 for 30E, but unfortunately I couldn't justify the purchase without a paycheck. We all stopped for a coffee and gathered to go to a restaurant for dinner. We ate at the restaurant, “Trattoria del Tribunale,” and they make their pasta “in casa.” Beni and her friends were all insistent that I try a famous plate in Parma, the “Torta Fritta.”

We found the restaurant on a quiet more peaceful street away from the commotion of the center city, and we all sat at a big table near the Tribunale (the Justice court); the low lit streets were calming as groups of friends wandered off to their nightly activities and bicycles rode past with the girlfriend or child balancing or secured on the front. I just love the sight of bicycles with big baskets or people piled on one bike bumping across the cobbled stones! It fits so perfectly with the picture!

Anyways, we all had a very enjoyable, relaxing dinner, and they all advised me to try the tortelli d’erbetto—a specialty of Parma and of the restaurant. For our appetizer, they brought out the “torta fritta,” which is basically fried hollow dough (more salty than sweet), and you eat it with a selection of thinly sliced meats: prosciutto di Parma, salame, bresaola, etc. Oh My GOODNESS—it was incredible. My meal came shortly after, and I have no more words left to describe the creamy mouth-watering flavorful sensation of the pasta. I wanted to cry! Tortelli are a kind of small ravioli, and the filling was a creamy cheese, erb combination. Mamma mia, che buona!!!

After dinner, we all took a passeggiata along the streets, past the bustling city center, past the piazzas, past the churches with their belltowers hovering above us in the starry sky—ending at none other but the K2 gelateria, which provided the perfect finishing-touch for my overly-contented and spoiled stomach. We ate our gelato on the steps of a church, and we talked as Giacomo tried to hit on me. Haha. We took one final passeggiata past the hopping street of Via Farini where the masses all flocked to the many bars lining the street. There was music, parties spilling out into the middle of the street, and lots of good-looking men. Wow.

Parma certainly has a style to it, and I have to comment on the number of good-looking people I saw during my days spent in the city. They are definitely a lovely breed, and my eyes were slightly spinning in circles to view all the suave men with sweaters dashed across their shoulders, dark brooding eyes or light features nicely contrasted—some seemingly aloof to their beauty, others clearly conceited “players”, and maybe a few were gay. Who knows! My ignorant guess to describe my initial reaction to these people aside from the water in Parma, would be the mix of French blood that exists there due to the historical control of the city. Many have the lovely combination of light eyes and dark hair-good genes.

I went to sleep with a stomachache due to my excessive ingestion of food during the day, and at one point I thought I would throw up. Luckily, I was determined not to do that and to let digestion work its slow course from the daily smorgasbord.

The next day we woke up and went to Forte dei Marmi, a popular Tuscan vacation spot. Benni’s family owns a house there, and it is a rather chic summer tourist city. It was lovely, and the weather was fantastic!! Benni, her sister and I rode around in a convertible with the top down, they showed me the city, and I relaxed on the beach as the large mountains sat in lounge chairs in the background with margheritas. We joined her family for lunch, and they are incredibly warm and genuine people. I ate small gniocchis with salmon---we ate for 4 hours under a shaded umbrella next to the beach. I felt very much at peace looking at the sparkling ocean. Benni, her sister Bianca and I drove home with the radio, and that night we returned to Milan.

Summary: I think that I gained about 10 pounds. I also met about 200 Parmesan people. I've never eaten such amazing food in all of my FLIPPING life!!! I also ate the creamiest ice cream I've ever tried. My first trip to Parma was absolutely enjoyable, unforgettable, and I hope to return soon. Advice of the day: When life hands you a chunk of fine Parmesan aged cheese—eat it, eat all of it, and soak it in. Hell, use it as soap if you please.

Passeggiatas and Decisions Made.

Italian Fact of the Day:

What is a "passeggiata"?

Literally a "passeggiata" is translated into "a walk or stroll". I will mention "passeggiatas" frequently in my blogs because it is not only a word, but it is a way of life here in Italy. I can not even count the number of passeggiatas that I've taken in all parts of this country, and it is a habitual activity that is practically impossible to accomplish in its full ritualistic form in the United States. The streets have been constructed with the currents of Italian footprints, always converging in piazzas and zones of commercial or public activity.

In fact the streets outside my window are swinging with Jazz music and buzzing with the noises of a thousand chattering Italians as they relax sipping cocktails for an aperitivo along the Naviglio waterway. Some even raise their voices in song! The bars and restaurants set up huge tents in the street during the warmer months, and they go all out with claiming their street space to compose elaborate arrangements of tables, chairs, and lounges for their prospective nightly crowds-finishing touches are added with candles. As aperitivo hour approaches (7:00), they make sure to leave an area of the street open for the crowds that will pave the passeggiata runway for the evening.

The runway is important, and you know that you are making a statement when you walk through the crowds. Walking alone is not advisable passeggiata behavior, and if you walk alone, at least pretend that you are headed somewhere fabulous! I hope that you have put thought into your attire for the evening! Every night the streets are filled with life and a flurry of commotion, music drifting from the various locales, while wine and cocktails tune up the tastebuds for the night's joyride. The aroma of Italian cooking permeates the air as sizzling pizzas, aperitivo selections, and restaurant dishes are placed in front of the people lounging for a night-long affair. On popular evenings, you are lucky to battle the advancing army of parading people, battling for your piece of street to tread as aimlessly as you please!

The routes are undetermined and spontaneous--you can choose a new street, alley or bridge at any given moment! It adds to the excitement of the undestinational walk--or fashionable meandering if you will. Couples strolling hand in hand, kisses seized mid-step, and that one bad boyfriend that checks you out as his girlfriend is clinging to his arm. Groups of singles flocking in packs, and teenagers scurry around armed with cellphones, fashion, and sarcasm. The men perch themselves along this nightly runway, calling out to those "lucky" ladies or just staring enough to make them blush. The mature couples walk arm in arm-the woman dressed in light evening dress and her hubby in suave pair of colored pants, a seamless shirt, and a colored sweater tied casually around his neck--picked for you today out of the Ralph Lauren (insert Italian trendy casual designer) catalogue!

The passaggiata does not have to be an evening activity, and it is usually a meandering stroll that ends with piazzas, restaurants, bars, stores, supermarkets, a gelateria, or any other destination. It is a way of life, it is a series of encounters, it is a scenic tour, it is a social event, it is a peaceful unwind, it is a strutting show, it is a current of people, it is hand-in-hand-kiss me over the bridge, it is the breeze in your face, it is the flavor of your gelato, it is the color of your lips-the light in his eyes, it is the laughter in the air, it is undemanding, it is the freedom without agenda, it is the joy of life.


Aside from my fact of the day:

I spent the whole day with Matteo, and he was waiting for me in piazza del Duomo. It is fantastic when he immediately dips me to give me a big kiss, and I wear my red lipstick solely for that instant. We had a lovely day spent together, and as always, it began with a coffee shared together near the Duomo. His first question was, "Well, Cara, have you made your bid decision--will you tell me?"

I had told him yesterday that I decided on my current life situation/job search here in Italy, but I didn't want to tell him until the end of the week. Seeing as I gave the confirmation phone calls and emails this morning, it would only be natural that I announce my news about my imminent future. Will she be heading State-side in December, or will she remain in Italy was the boiled down question. After much preoccupation and soul-searching, she has dug deep and found an answer!!! Drum roll please.... (as no one reads my blog, I imagine that there is much built-up suspense.)

I have decided to take the job teaching art and art history in Milan, and this means that my butt will sign a contract keeping me in Italy until at least June!! I accept this job with the hopes of gaining experience, a stable monthly salary, and the chance to try to continue with artistic endeavors in Italy--painting, finding an internship, and/or creating murals.

When I was struggling with this decision with respect to my life goals, I took a time out to evaluate my different opportunities, which lead me to create a "Priorities" list. On my "priorities" page, I listed all of the most important components of my life--places, people, goals, ,interests, skills--at the bottom of the page, and the idea was to list their importance in numerical order at the top. I found this exercise to be completely futile and frustrating. There was no way that I could ever decide on the direction of my life based on my ranking of priorities! In effect, I have decided that priorities are situational and time-based, and sometimes it is not the right moment to be hammering directly at your main goal when you could be addressing other issues or interests that fall in place. You could be collecting bits and pieces that will slowly build a foundation for your future endeavors. When I speak about priorities it means evaluating what is the experience you want to have at a certain point in your life. Just because you choose to be far away doesn't mean you don't care to be close to your family and friends--it just means you want a different experience. HOwever, it is important to note that you determine your own happiness, no matter where that might be.

I could delve into my reasoning and careful thought-processes, but I have saved those treats only for those privy ears of my family--God bless their souls! It suffices to say that I've chosen to continue on my Italian adventure, a road that is as windy as those that curve up the Tuscan hills--one that only has more promise for new episodes and intrigue along my "passeggiata". We will see what this new "teaching" chapter will blow my way!

Matteo and I went to an art show of a famous Italian political satirist, Forattini, and it was incredibly interesting. We ate a pizza and lounged in the park for the rest of the day. It was lovely and relaxing.

Tomorrow I pack to go to Parma with my girlfriend. It should be a fabulous weekend!