Giorni. The plural of Giorno: meaning day. So the vacation we are about to take for 12 giorni is truly a journey. Another adventure in a series of so many. We are looking forward to Brian being off work. Baxter is spiffing up the plant in time for shut-down and a visit from the big-wigs. Brian gets to skip shut-down and go on vacation. Many of you might realize the significance of the last statement. For those who don't: Brian usualy runs shut-down which means we don't get to see him for about a month everytime it happens (3 times last year.) So we are doing shut down IN STYLE: Cinque Terra, Pisa, Nice, Monaco, Marseilles, some other French towns, Paris, Black forest in Germany, Salzburg and Vienna. In 12 days. Dodieichi giorni. Con la machina. Con quatro filgli. Mama Mia!!!
Buon Viaggio.
Hope to connect with you on the road...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Holy Roma
We went to Roma again. This time our mission (and the kids grudgingly accepted it) was to see "Holy Rome."
Vatican, St. Peter's, Pieta, Sistine Chapel... that sort of thing. Since we again drove in and parked at the Villa Borghese
(which, as such, we have yet to see other than "Wait! what does that sign say!!! Is the parking this way or that way????")
we needed to find our way over to the Vatican by way of...McDonalds. It was a beautiful McDonalds and the kids
thoroughly enjoyed it. So the walking tour began on the streets of hot and sticky Roma. We hit the Trevi fountain, Piazza
Navona (fountain closed for refurbishing) St. Ignazio square for the Jesuit alum photo-op, Pantheon, and then over
to the Vatican. We rested by the Tiber river for a long while enjoying the breeze and lack of crowds of people.
Then the decision: St. Peter's first or Vatican Museum? The kids wanted St. Peter's (and I was so hot and tired, I didn't
care) so we went with the small line and free St. Peter's. The biggest church I've seen probably ever. It was magnificent.
I was surprised that photos are allowed inside (how holy can it really be then, I ask???) so I have a slightly fuzzy
picture of Aidan rubbing the toe of St. Peter's statue. After exiting the church, we made Aidan go up to the guards and ask
how to get to the museum. It was a long walk around the corner to the museum entrance that was now closed. No sistine chapel
on this trip for us. Honestly, I don't think the kids could handle one more church. It will be stretch to get them into
another church at this point.
So intstead, Brian and Aidan wanted to climb the 500+ steps to the dome.
Julia and Edwin were having NO part of that, so I made the sacrifice to go to the cafe and have gelatto and a cappucino
with Colin, Julia and Ed.
Then we had a truly Italian experience: we took the bus. We (*I*) read the bus routes and found a bus to take us
to the section of town where Brian had a recommendation for a restaurant from a co-worker. We found Travestere (one of Roma's
oldest neighborhoods and they consider themselves the only "true" Romans) and then after asking at the gas station where
we might find the restaurant (which we only had half the name of) he directed us down the road to a nearby piazza.
We found the restaurant, and found out they didn't open for 45 minutes. They kindly let us sit down at the outdoor
tables and wait, so we had plently of time to peruse the menus (some of which was in English) The place has been around
since 800. That's 1200 hundred years people. The waiters wore some kind of traditional Italian dress and most were older gentlemen.
They made us laugh when they made fun of the huge tour group of Americans and once we ordered,
the band starting making its rounds to the tables. They sang a "Viva Mama" song to us and then pulled
out a hand puppet and sang some very cute Italian children's song to Edwin. It was a great evening. Much more fun than more
museums for the kids. The long walk back to the metro and finding the car took us by the Circus Maximus - Edwin on piggyback
at this point in the long evening. It's too bad that we had such a long journey home - Roma is beautiful (and cooler!) by
night.
Vatican, St. Peter's, Pieta, Sistine Chapel... that sort of thing. Since we again drove in and parked at the Villa Borghese
(which, as such, we have yet to see other than "Wait! what does that sign say!!! Is the parking this way or that way????")
we needed to find our way over to the Vatican by way of...McDonalds. It was a beautiful McDonalds and the kids
thoroughly enjoyed it. So the walking tour began on the streets of hot and sticky Roma. We hit the Trevi fountain, Piazza
Navona (fountain closed for refurbishing) St. Ignazio square for the Jesuit alum photo-op, Pantheon, and then over
to the Vatican. We rested by the Tiber river for a long while enjoying the breeze and lack of crowds of people.
Then the decision: St. Peter's first or Vatican Museum? The kids wanted St. Peter's (and I was so hot and tired, I didn't
care) so we went with the small line and free St. Peter's. The biggest church I've seen probably ever. It was magnificent.
I was surprised that photos are allowed inside (how holy can it really be then, I ask???) so I have a slightly fuzzy
picture of Aidan rubbing the toe of St. Peter's statue. After exiting the church, we made Aidan go up to the guards and ask
how to get to the museum. It was a long walk around the corner to the museum entrance that was now closed. No sistine chapel
on this trip for us. Honestly, I don't think the kids could handle one more church. It will be stretch to get them into
another church at this point.
So intstead, Brian and Aidan wanted to climb the 500+ steps to the dome.
Julia and Edwin were having NO part of that, so I made the sacrifice to go to the cafe and have gelatto and a cappucino
with Colin, Julia and Ed.
Then we had a truly Italian experience: we took the bus. We (*I*) read the bus routes and found a bus to take us
to the section of town where Brian had a recommendation for a restaurant from a co-worker. We found Travestere (one of Roma's
oldest neighborhoods and they consider themselves the only "true" Romans) and then after asking at the gas station where
we might find the restaurant (which we only had half the name of) he directed us down the road to a nearby piazza.
We found the restaurant, and found out they didn't open for 45 minutes. They kindly let us sit down at the outdoor
tables and wait, so we had plently of time to peruse the menus (some of which was in English) The place has been around
since 800. That's 1200 hundred years people. The waiters wore some kind of traditional Italian dress and most were older gentlemen.
They made us laugh when they made fun of the huge tour group of Americans and once we ordered,
the band starting making its rounds to the tables. They sang a "Viva Mama" song to us and then pulled
out a hand puppet and sang some very cute Italian children's song to Edwin. It was a great evening. Much more fun than more
museums for the kids. The long walk back to the metro and finding the car took us by the Circus Maximus - Edwin on piggyback
at this point in the long evening. It's too bad that we had such a long journey home - Roma is beautiful (and cooler!) by
night.
Robert DeNiro's Waiting
I had a few conversations on Friday. One in English with my new friend Cindy.
One in Engliano with my landlords Mario and Luisa.
Both were interesting, and not only because I got to speak to someone other than the kids and Brian. Cindy and I had made arrangements to check out the opening of a new store here in Rieti. She picked me up and we went over to see what the buzz was all about. It turned out to be a dollar (or in the case over here, the 1 euro) store. It was all the rage, and the parking lot was filled to capacity and then some, given the penchant for parking creatively by the Italians. She and I found a few things as there was a decent produce section to the store.
She filled me in on some Italian curiosities that I have noticed over the weeks. Stores not being open; crazy driving (a bus actually hit her while she was stopped at a red light); the willingness of the Italians to wait in line at the post office for an hour, but less than a nano-second at a red light just turning green. She enjoys living here now (for 10 years) but misses some things of home. Her boys (14 and 16) seem truly Italian to me but also seem reluctant to speak to us in
English. I hear from Mario and Luisa (who are also friends with Cindy and her boys) that they are on the shy side. After shopping, we went and had a cafe at my local internet bar. It was nice to enjoy a coffee *and* a conversation at the same time. Cindy ordered her cafe with ginseng - a drink that Brian gets at work too. Yes, Brian drinks coffee now. Italian coffee is *that* good. Except I don't think I'll swich to the ginseng kind.
Later that day, the kids and I took a walking tour of our town and with the help of the tourist office visitor's map, put names to buildings we have been walking past for weeks now. The very plain on the outside Basilica is 600-700 years old and is stunning on the inside. Included inside is a very large painting of Santa Barbara - patron saint of Rieti. Yeah, she was beheaded and the painting is very graphic. Gotta love church art. In order to get Edwin to come along (willingly)
on the walk, I told him I would pay him 5 cents for every lion he saw. He raked in 1.50 in less than an hour. We stopped counting at that point. He used his earnings to purchase bubble gum.
And very kindly treated all of his siblings to their own pieces.
That evening, after dinner, the caldaia stopped working. This necessitated a call to the landlords.
Of course, once we called them, it (hot water heater) started working again. So I went up the street to their house to catch Mario before he came down to look at it. I had brought some See's candy back with me to give to them, so I figured it was as good a time as any to do so. I spent an hour trying (fairly unsuccessfully) to talk with them when they invited me in to share the chocolate. They are really nice people. I still can't figure out what Mario does.
I believe it's something to do with construction and/or lots of money. They have a beach house, a boat, other rental properties and he drives a Mazeratti. Sadly, I look like I just rolled out of bed everytime I see them - no make-up, messy hair, rumpled clothes and flip flops. Every. time. Heaven knows
what they think about the American lady with all the kids. I definitly don't look Italian.
But they are my main Itaian teachers. I have learned a lot about the language from them -
especially since Luisa is intent on my learning by speaking ONLY Italian. Capito? punctuates most of her sentences.
So I had a Banarama day talking Italian with new friends. I didn't speak it well, but I tried.
Capito?
One in Engliano with my landlords Mario and Luisa.
Both were interesting, and not only because I got to speak to someone other than the kids and Brian. Cindy and I had made arrangements to check out the opening of a new store here in Rieti. She picked me up and we went over to see what the buzz was all about. It turned out to be a dollar (or in the case over here, the 1 euro) store. It was all the rage, and the parking lot was filled to capacity and then some, given the penchant for parking creatively by the Italians. She and I found a few things as there was a decent produce section to the store.
She filled me in on some Italian curiosities that I have noticed over the weeks. Stores not being open; crazy driving (a bus actually hit her while she was stopped at a red light); the willingness of the Italians to wait in line at the post office for an hour, but less than a nano-second at a red light just turning green. She enjoys living here now (for 10 years) but misses some things of home. Her boys (14 and 16) seem truly Italian to me but also seem reluctant to speak to us in
English. I hear from Mario and Luisa (who are also friends with Cindy and her boys) that they are on the shy side. After shopping, we went and had a cafe at my local internet bar. It was nice to enjoy a coffee *and* a conversation at the same time. Cindy ordered her cafe with ginseng - a drink that Brian gets at work too. Yes, Brian drinks coffee now. Italian coffee is *that* good. Except I don't think I'll swich to the ginseng kind.
Later that day, the kids and I took a walking tour of our town and with the help of the tourist office visitor's map, put names to buildings we have been walking past for weeks now. The very plain on the outside Basilica is 600-700 years old and is stunning on the inside. Included inside is a very large painting of Santa Barbara - patron saint of Rieti. Yeah, she was beheaded and the painting is very graphic. Gotta love church art. In order to get Edwin to come along (willingly)
on the walk, I told him I would pay him 5 cents for every lion he saw. He raked in 1.50 in less than an hour. We stopped counting at that point. He used his earnings to purchase bubble gum.
And very kindly treated all of his siblings to their own pieces.
That evening, after dinner, the caldaia stopped working. This necessitated a call to the landlords.
Of course, once we called them, it (hot water heater) started working again. So I went up the street to their house to catch Mario before he came down to look at it. I had brought some See's candy back with me to give to them, so I figured it was as good a time as any to do so. I spent an hour trying (fairly unsuccessfully) to talk with them when they invited me in to share the chocolate. They are really nice people. I still can't figure out what Mario does.
I believe it's something to do with construction and/or lots of money. They have a beach house, a boat, other rental properties and he drives a Mazeratti. Sadly, I look like I just rolled out of bed everytime I see them - no make-up, messy hair, rumpled clothes and flip flops. Every. time. Heaven knows
what they think about the American lady with all the kids. I definitly don't look Italian.
But they are my main Itaian teachers. I have learned a lot about the language from them -
especially since Luisa is intent on my learning by speaking ONLY Italian. Capito? punctuates most of her sentences.
So I had a Banarama day talking Italian with new friends. I didn't speak it well, but I tried.
Capito?
Friday, July 25, 2008
Cell phones and errands
Getting a cell phone in Italy is not exactly as difficult as you think it would be. When I entered the Vodaphone store, I had bad flashbacks of waiting for help in the Verizon store at home. I thought, “Dealing with cell phone companies is difficult enough even when I speak the language…”
But here… Yes, the language barrier can make it tricky. You have to produce a passport when you finally figure out that they *do* have a phone that you can use for only two months. The helpful salesperson may even try and pull some strings and finagle a residency number for you. And the instructions for the phone are in Italian. But, other than all that, you can walk into a store and not a very long while later (in comparison to major US cell phone store waits) you can walk out with a cell phone. That works. That you don’t need to sign a contract for. That you are not tied to for YEARS. It’s more like the prepaid phones back home. Most (if not all) phones work that way. Other than deals on minutes between same carriers (Vodaphone calls made to other Vodaphone phones) it’s all pretty much the same rate-wise. Which translates into less cell-phone usage AS A WHOLE in the community.
Cell phone usage does not seem as hideously pervasive here as compared with home.
My new friend Cindy confirmed this when she explained that people here seem to just have short conversations: state your business, then get off the phone. And with my phone at 50 cents a minute, it’s really only for emergencies and quick calls to Brian. (It’s a bit cheaper to call Italian numbers, but I mostly call Brian’s work phone and it’s an Austrian Vodophone cell phone number hence the 50 cent rate.)
What a pleasure it is to live without being subjected to everyone constantly on the phone. When I went home for the weekend, I noticed that now that the CA hand’s free law is in effect, people seem to be on the phone MORE. Genius idea to make it even EASIER to be on the phone all the time with the requirement of ear/head pieces. My shopping journey to Target last weekend was a frightening example of the new law in effect. EVERYONE was jabbering away on their headsets while their hands were free to do the shopping. UGH. I don’t look forward to that part of home next month. Maybe I’ll make a new blog and call it “Things I overheard today while shopping.” It has potential, no?
When you run out of money on your phone, you can go into most any bar (see the descriptions of the bars in a previous blog) present your phone number and pay to add money to your account. Sounds easy enough? So I sent Aidan to do it for me. After a few tries and a trip home to consult the Italian/English dictionary to find out how to say “Will you please help me” “I don’t know how”, he came back successful.
I send the kids out quite often on their own to do small errands. Mostly, it involves picking up a few items from the market at the bottom of the hill. The day before, Julia and Aidan delivered the dryer sheets to Cindy and then went for pizza by themselves. I feel they are relatively safe here: you can’t spit without hitting a church or convent, and other than the drivers, Italians are super friendly. So I send them off to experience their own Italy. I think it’s important not to have mom speak up for you all the time. Aidan shines at this. Julia likes it, but not on her own. Ed begs to go – but I usually draw the line at him. I make him wait with me, or I take him. Colin doesn’t care at all about it, unless it involves food…or the internet.
But here… Yes, the language barrier can make it tricky. You have to produce a passport when you finally figure out that they *do* have a phone that you can use for only two months. The helpful salesperson may even try and pull some strings and finagle a residency number for you. And the instructions for the phone are in Italian. But, other than all that, you can walk into a store and not a very long while later (in comparison to major US cell phone store waits) you can walk out with a cell phone. That works. That you don’t need to sign a contract for. That you are not tied to for YEARS. It’s more like the prepaid phones back home. Most (if not all) phones work that way. Other than deals on minutes between same carriers (Vodaphone calls made to other Vodaphone phones) it’s all pretty much the same rate-wise. Which translates into less cell-phone usage AS A WHOLE in the community.
Cell phone usage does not seem as hideously pervasive here as compared with home.
My new friend Cindy confirmed this when she explained that people here seem to just have short conversations: state your business, then get off the phone. And with my phone at 50 cents a minute, it’s really only for emergencies and quick calls to Brian. (It’s a bit cheaper to call Italian numbers, but I mostly call Brian’s work phone and it’s an Austrian Vodophone cell phone number hence the 50 cent rate.)
What a pleasure it is to live without being subjected to everyone constantly on the phone. When I went home for the weekend, I noticed that now that the CA hand’s free law is in effect, people seem to be on the phone MORE. Genius idea to make it even EASIER to be on the phone all the time with the requirement of ear/head pieces. My shopping journey to Target last weekend was a frightening example of the new law in effect. EVERYONE was jabbering away on their headsets while their hands were free to do the shopping. UGH. I don’t look forward to that part of home next month. Maybe I’ll make a new blog and call it “Things I overheard today while shopping.” It has potential, no?
When you run out of money on your phone, you can go into most any bar (see the descriptions of the bars in a previous blog) present your phone number and pay to add money to your account. Sounds easy enough? So I sent Aidan to do it for me. After a few tries and a trip home to consult the Italian/English dictionary to find out how to say “Will you please help me” “I don’t know how”, he came back successful.
I send the kids out quite often on their own to do small errands. Mostly, it involves picking up a few items from the market at the bottom of the hill. The day before, Julia and Aidan delivered the dryer sheets to Cindy and then went for pizza by themselves. I feel they are relatively safe here: you can’t spit without hitting a church or convent, and other than the drivers, Italians are super friendly. So I send them off to experience their own Italy. I think it’s important not to have mom speak up for you all the time. Aidan shines at this. Julia likes it, but not on her own. Ed begs to go – but I usually draw the line at him. I make him wait with me, or I take him. Colin doesn’t care at all about it, unless it involves food…or the internet.
Pace e bene
So Brian says to me, “I thought you were going to take the kids on day trips while we were here?”
And I was. I am. But things have been busy with vacationing and all. And doing the laundry, dishes and just life in general. So after we did our trial runs to Roccosinibalda and Monteleone Sabino (both medieval cliff/mountain villages), I felt that I was able to handle the kids and the car on a trip to Assisi. Because it didn’t LOOK too far away on the map.
To get to Assisi from Rieti, you need to go through the town of Terni. Getting to Terni involves nerves of steel and complete concentration to handle the windy, two lane mountain road with occasional cliff like drop offs to the side of you. It especially helps if your daughter isn’t screaming at the top of her lungs when a spider happens to crawl up her leg during the precarious ride.
The projected 1 ½ hour car ride took 2 ½ hours to get there. That projection was given by the car GPS (aka Global Piece of S**t) One thing (out of many) that the Italians have gotten right is the signage in this country. It’s nearly impossible to get lost. Direction signs appear at almost every intersection and if you know where you want to go, it’s easy to find your way. They even label the streets (on the ground) with direction arrows and town names so you know which lane to be in and which way to turn. With cursory looks at the map, we were able to find our way to Assisi with minimal difficulty – difficulty caused mostly by using the GPS, which we quickly abandoned.
Assisi is another rock medieval town (our 3rd or 4th since we’ve been here only on a bigger, more touristy scale). We were able to eat our picnic lunch and meander through the town stopping at a few sights. We found the Basilica Santa Chiara (St. Clare) first. Appropriate for the family from Santa Clarita! We (mostly the kids) struggled with the necessary volume control needed in the sacred place full of touristy pilgrims. We were able to see the remains of St. Clare covered in lifelike wax (“eew!” says Julia, “cool!” says Aidan) in the crypt below the church. Outside the basilica in the courtyard there is a stunning view of the Umbrian landscape. In the distance we saw the blue dome of the church St. Mary of the Angels - the place St. Francis lived and worked and the “cradle of the Franciscan order.” The city of Los Angeles is named after this church.
More meandering down the streets and a little bit of shopping for crosses. I had promised a friend from church that I would pick up a cross for her from Italy. I figured Assisi was as holy a place as any in Italy to do so. Given that St. Francis is one of Italy’s patron saints (but curiously, he not the patron saint of Assisi. That honor goes to San Rufino. Yeah, that’s a head scratcher to me too.) We coincidentally picked a shop to get crosses at the same place Rick Steves points out in his book contains a printing press from WWII used to make documents for escaping Jews. I missed the press, but Aidan saw it and the sign (in Italian) describing what it was used for. I spent my time looking for crosses and conversing in Italian with the 70 year old signora behind the counter. She described to me (all in Italian) why the crosses looked different: they are in the shape of the Hebrew letter Tau, the last letter in the Hebrew alphabet during St. Francis’ life. He would use this letter as his signature. Now it’s used as a cross to remind us of St. Francis and his message of peace. The crosses in their store are made out of olive wood from the local surrounding olive trees. We also talked about the kids and why we were living in Rieti for the summer. It was a lovely conversation ending with her asking how old I am. She guessed 30. God bless her.
More shopping for Ed when we stopped so he could spend his own money to buy a small pinocchio toy wooden puppet. The man asked his name and we answered for Edwin (his lip still being very swollen and making it hard to understand him) but shortened it to “Eddie” as the Italians have a VERY difficult time understanding the name “Edwin.” “Oh, Eddie!” the man says. “Like Ed, Edd and Eddy. The cartoon! My kids love that show!” So Edwin is now Eddie to all Italians, since that can say that. And they all know the name Julia. Only they know it as Giulia.
We stopped by the Temple of Minerva (later turned into a church) in the main square. We went in and took pictures in the only church where cameras are allowed (we think.) Since it used to be a Roman temple, there are still floor slats near the alter that used to drain the blood from the temple sacrifices. Another highlight for Aidan…
Then we made our way down to the Basilica of St. Francis. A few hundred yards away, with the basilica in view, we came upon a shop with a sign in the window which read In ENGLISH:
Please Come In And Taste Now the Best Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar.
Later You Will Not Feel Like Walking Up Again. Don’t Miss This Chance.
How can you refuse such a sign? We went in and met a lovely Italian gentleman who lived in Chicago for 27 years and has been back in Italy for almost 20 now. Of course we tasted his olive oil and balsamic vinegar (which made Ed pucker, which made the man smile) and then we purchased some. But better than the oil and vinegar, we got a great conversation and connection with some real Italia through him. He explained that he used to teach Italian – and was in great demand as he is from Umbria and, of course, the Umbrian dialect is the best in Italy. Nothing like Roma (“ugh” he grimaces) Italian. He claims that Roma Italian has too much slang and they slur too many of their letters together. We also talked about our experience here in Italy – the no hot water experience… and he shared that when he was a kid (for many years) his mother would bathe him a big “flower pot.”
Then the walk down to the basilica and a quick tour of the reason people come to Assisi.
After some bribes of soda and ice-cream we found our way back up to the car for the VERY LONG ride back to pick up Brian from work. Thankfully, we had gotten a cell phone for me that week, so we were able to call him and let him know we’d be more than an hour late getting him.
It was almost more than an hour as I decided I had become an Italian driver and tried to (almost, scarily so, unsuccessfully) pass a semi-truck on the 2 lane highway. I timed it so “perfectly” that our car became sandwiched between 2 semi-trucks, each going opposite ways. You know in the movies where it looks like the car won’t make it and at the last minute (God knows how) the car comes out all right despite the laws of physics and gravity? Well, that was us. Honestly, I thought we were done for. I think my heart actually stopped. Maybe that pilgrimage to Assisi paid off. We had both St. Francis and St. Clare on our side I guess. Amen.
So ended our day trips for a while. I have cancelled plans for other Umbrian and Tuscan villages. I decided that there are only so many medieval rock towns that children really want to see. And the ones we saw previously were almost more magical as there was nothing special about them. Just people working and living. Living history in buildings and villages that have been around for hundreds if not thousands of years. Kids (including my own) playing and laughing on the swings in the small town square. And if that isn’t magic, I don’t know what is.
And I was. I am. But things have been busy with vacationing and all. And doing the laundry, dishes and just life in general. So after we did our trial runs to Roccosinibalda and Monteleone Sabino (both medieval cliff/mountain villages), I felt that I was able to handle the kids and the car on a trip to Assisi. Because it didn’t LOOK too far away on the map.
To get to Assisi from Rieti, you need to go through the town of Terni. Getting to Terni involves nerves of steel and complete concentration to handle the windy, two lane mountain road with occasional cliff like drop offs to the side of you. It especially helps if your daughter isn’t screaming at the top of her lungs when a spider happens to crawl up her leg during the precarious ride.
The projected 1 ½ hour car ride took 2 ½ hours to get there. That projection was given by the car GPS (aka Global Piece of S**t) One thing (out of many) that the Italians have gotten right is the signage in this country. It’s nearly impossible to get lost. Direction signs appear at almost every intersection and if you know where you want to go, it’s easy to find your way. They even label the streets (on the ground) with direction arrows and town names so you know which lane to be in and which way to turn. With cursory looks at the map, we were able to find our way to Assisi with minimal difficulty – difficulty caused mostly by using the GPS, which we quickly abandoned.
Assisi is another rock medieval town (our 3rd or 4th since we’ve been here only on a bigger, more touristy scale). We were able to eat our picnic lunch and meander through the town stopping at a few sights. We found the Basilica Santa Chiara (St. Clare) first. Appropriate for the family from Santa Clarita! We (mostly the kids) struggled with the necessary volume control needed in the sacred place full of touristy pilgrims. We were able to see the remains of St. Clare covered in lifelike wax (“eew!” says Julia, “cool!” says Aidan) in the crypt below the church. Outside the basilica in the courtyard there is a stunning view of the Umbrian landscape. In the distance we saw the blue dome of the church St. Mary of the Angels - the place St. Francis lived and worked and the “cradle of the Franciscan order.” The city of Los Angeles is named after this church.
More meandering down the streets and a little bit of shopping for crosses. I had promised a friend from church that I would pick up a cross for her from Italy. I figured Assisi was as holy a place as any in Italy to do so. Given that St. Francis is one of Italy’s patron saints (but curiously, he not the patron saint of Assisi. That honor goes to San Rufino. Yeah, that’s a head scratcher to me too.) We coincidentally picked a shop to get crosses at the same place Rick Steves points out in his book contains a printing press from WWII used to make documents for escaping Jews. I missed the press, but Aidan saw it and the sign (in Italian) describing what it was used for. I spent my time looking for crosses and conversing in Italian with the 70 year old signora behind the counter. She described to me (all in Italian) why the crosses looked different: they are in the shape of the Hebrew letter Tau, the last letter in the Hebrew alphabet during St. Francis’ life. He would use this letter as his signature. Now it’s used as a cross to remind us of St. Francis and his message of peace. The crosses in their store are made out of olive wood from the local surrounding olive trees. We also talked about the kids and why we were living in Rieti for the summer. It was a lovely conversation ending with her asking how old I am. She guessed 30. God bless her.
More shopping for Ed when we stopped so he could spend his own money to buy a small pinocchio toy wooden puppet. The man asked his name and we answered for Edwin (his lip still being very swollen and making it hard to understand him) but shortened it to “Eddie” as the Italians have a VERY difficult time understanding the name “Edwin.” “Oh, Eddie!” the man says. “Like Ed, Edd and Eddy. The cartoon! My kids love that show!” So Edwin is now Eddie to all Italians, since that can say that. And they all know the name Julia. Only they know it as Giulia.
We stopped by the Temple of Minerva (later turned into a church) in the main square. We went in and took pictures in the only church where cameras are allowed (we think.) Since it used to be a Roman temple, there are still floor slats near the alter that used to drain the blood from the temple sacrifices. Another highlight for Aidan…
Then we made our way down to the Basilica of St. Francis. A few hundred yards away, with the basilica in view, we came upon a shop with a sign in the window which read In ENGLISH:
Please Come In And Taste Now the Best Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar.
Later You Will Not Feel Like Walking Up Again. Don’t Miss This Chance.
How can you refuse such a sign? We went in and met a lovely Italian gentleman who lived in Chicago for 27 years and has been back in Italy for almost 20 now. Of course we tasted his olive oil and balsamic vinegar (which made Ed pucker, which made the man smile) and then we purchased some. But better than the oil and vinegar, we got a great conversation and connection with some real Italia through him. He explained that he used to teach Italian – and was in great demand as he is from Umbria and, of course, the Umbrian dialect is the best in Italy. Nothing like Roma (“ugh” he grimaces) Italian. He claims that Roma Italian has too much slang and they slur too many of their letters together. We also talked about our experience here in Italy – the no hot water experience… and he shared that when he was a kid (for many years) his mother would bathe him a big “flower pot.”
Then the walk down to the basilica and a quick tour of the reason people come to Assisi.
After some bribes of soda and ice-cream we found our way back up to the car for the VERY LONG ride back to pick up Brian from work. Thankfully, we had gotten a cell phone for me that week, so we were able to call him and let him know we’d be more than an hour late getting him.
It was almost more than an hour as I decided I had become an Italian driver and tried to (almost, scarily so, unsuccessfully) pass a semi-truck on the 2 lane highway. I timed it so “perfectly” that our car became sandwiched between 2 semi-trucks, each going opposite ways. You know in the movies where it looks like the car won’t make it and at the last minute (God knows how) the car comes out all right despite the laws of physics and gravity? Well, that was us. Honestly, I thought we were done for. I think my heart actually stopped. Maybe that pilgrimage to Assisi paid off. We had both St. Francis and St. Clare on our side I guess. Amen.
So ended our day trips for a while. I have cancelled plans for other Umbrian and Tuscan villages. I decided that there are only so many medieval rock towns that children really want to see. And the ones we saw previously were almost more magical as there was nothing special about them. Just people working and living. Living history in buildings and villages that have been around for hundreds if not thousands of years. Kids (including my own) playing and laughing on the swings in the small town square. And if that isn’t magic, I don’t know what is.
Margaritaville
Margarita means something completely different to Edwin than it does to me.
To him, it’s the best pizza ever. Especially when you get it from Orlando at Paldo’s down the street. And he’s right. It is the best pizza ever. Even Colin agrees. If I had to compare *my* margarita to Edwin’s and then had to pick which one I would rather live without, it would be a *very* hard decision. The pizza is that good. But maybe it’s because I have lived without the other one all summer. There’s really only room for one margarita in Italia – and that’s perfectly fine with me and Edwin.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Lion count
Lion Count to date = 268. Edwin knows. He's keeping track. Monteleone Sabino is where this picture was taken. A trip we took in honor of our friends who share that name. The trip took us about 25 minutes away and then up, around, and about the curvy Sabine hills. Through a medievel town up on a cliff. I (just barely) navigated the huge car through the 1000+ year old one way streets and then found ourselves on a one way road through the olive orchards. Supposedly producing the finest olive oil in Italy. When forced to smile for another picture of the hills (because I threaten - and have made good on the threat - that unless they smile, we will just stand there and keep taking picture after picture until they all do) Aidan cracks under his breath, "just grin and lion it." Yep, pretty much.
Where You Lead
“Mom! Gilmore Girls is on!” Gilmore Girls in Italian!!! I can’t think of a better homecoming for me. Sometimes, when we watch Italian shows in the kitchen I can catch a few words here and there. Not so with my favorite talk-a-mile-a-minute show. But no matter! It’s great to see and HILARIOUS to watch Emily rant in Italian. It’s the Rory birthday episode when Luke gives Rory a piece of his mom’s jewelry.
The show also has the added benefit of drowning out the beat to the annoying Italian rap music blasting from the apartment below us. Usually I am very mindful of the kids running around up here and making too much noise to bug the neighbors downstairs. Not so today with their blasting music. I suspect the teenager is home alone this afternoon. It doesn’t usually sound this loud. So I instructed the kids and gave them permission to jump up and down and make as much noise stomping as they wanted to. They think it’s great. Even Colin doesn’t like the music from downstairs. *That* is saying something.
The show also has the added benefit of drowning out the beat to the annoying Italian rap music blasting from the apartment below us. Usually I am very mindful of the kids running around up here and making too much noise to bug the neighbors downstairs. Not so today with their blasting music. I suspect the teenager is home alone this afternoon. It doesn’t usually sound this loud. So I instructed the kids and gave them permission to jump up and down and make as much noise stomping as they wanted to. They think it’s great. Even Colin doesn’t like the music from downstairs. *That* is saying something.
Ready or Not, Here I Come Back
Ready or not, here I come back Italy. I took the weekend off and flew (and flew, and flew some more…) to Los Angeles and then back to Roma. By myself; so I guess if you don’t count the very long hours of being folded into the donkey-class, economy coach seat, it sort of counts as a kidless “vacation”…from my vacation. The itinerary bordered on the mildly insane. Some would say that anyone with 4 kids falls under that heading on a regular basis. The Roma airport ticket check-in left me yearning for the precision of the Swiss and even, sadly, the Americans. It was a SUPREME lesson in patience, which indeed is virtuous. The proof of that lies in the fact that I got bumped up to business class for no apparent reason on the 9 ½ hour flight from Roma to DC.
So the trip home was a 2fer: to check on my Dad and to attend my 20 year high school reunion – of which I have been part of the reunion committee for the last year. It was a 2 day stay in South Pasadena and I was able to check in on my dad as he is home now since Wednesday. I’m happy to report that he looks well, and that while he has a long road ahead, his spirits seem good. It was great – if a little strange – to be home again, without the kids and on such a whirlwind tour. I was able to get most of the necessities done while back in LA:
• Talk to some family members and friends to catch up. It took the whole month in Italy to deprogram from cell phone dependency… and most of that was wiped out in the 2 days I was back. At one point during my DC layover I just sat there thinking, “I can actually call anyone I want to. Right now!” and feeling very weird about it. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to talk to everyone I had hoped to talk to.
• Buy peanut butter and ranch dressing. Staples, that apparently, we really can’t live without. Also pick some other necessities that we have run out of. DVDs, shampoo, puzzles, and Bounce dryer sheets for my new Italian friend Cindy who has the only clothes dryer in Rieti. (She’s American.)
• Watch 58 hours of “So You Think You Can Dance” condensed down to 3 with the help of the fast forward button on the DVR. The boys are definitely better this season.
• Eat Mexican food. And lots of chicken.
• Do laundry (with lots of help from mom.) Yes, rather than spend 2+ days doing laundry at home, I brought dirty laundry (and paid extra to do so as it exceeded the weight limit). It was done in far less time and probably 1/5 of the loads that it would have taken in Italy. And it’s soft. Not crunchy from drying on the line.
• Share some (but not all) pictures with mom and dad of the trip. They both enjoyed the “virtual tour” of the apartment that Julia and Edwin did for them.
• Attend the reunion festivities. I know some of my classmates on the reunion committee read this blog, and I thank them for that. They were actually the ones who encouraged me to start it, so if you like reading about our crazy adventures you also have them to thank for it. I actually travelled the farthest to get back for the reunion. Lance almost beat me out as he flew from Germany, but I stopped in DC and he flew direct so I was in the plane longest. Yea for me!!! Just a word about attending reunions: they are surreal. It was fantastic (in some way) to see each person again. Most everyone has grown up nicely. Like a wedding, you make the rounds and try to talk to as many people as you can but there were a few who I was really looking forward to talking to but kept missing them.
Too many people to talk to in not enough time. It seemed to be the theme for the weekend. Not enough time to do everything I really wanted to do. But enough to do what I needed to do.
Thanks to Brian for sending me and watching the kids while I was gone. I hear they had a blast: took in a water park outside Roma after they dropped me off at the airport; drove up to the mountains and went hiking and shouted to hear their echoes; and maybe even took in the local town festival “wash tub race” down the river.
Thanks to the reunion committee and the Dickson family for helping host such a great event. It was worth all of the uncomfortable hours (and hours and hours….) on theplane.
And finally, thanks to mom and dad for everything else. I’ll miss you and be looking forward to seeing you, “soon, soon.”
So the trip home was a 2fer: to check on my Dad and to attend my 20 year high school reunion – of which I have been part of the reunion committee for the last year. It was a 2 day stay in South Pasadena and I was able to check in on my dad as he is home now since Wednesday. I’m happy to report that he looks well, and that while he has a long road ahead, his spirits seem good. It was great – if a little strange – to be home again, without the kids and on such a whirlwind tour. I was able to get most of the necessities done while back in LA:
• Talk to some family members and friends to catch up. It took the whole month in Italy to deprogram from cell phone dependency… and most of that was wiped out in the 2 days I was back. At one point during my DC layover I just sat there thinking, “I can actually call anyone I want to. Right now!” and feeling very weird about it. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to talk to everyone I had hoped to talk to.
• Buy peanut butter and ranch dressing. Staples, that apparently, we really can’t live without. Also pick some other necessities that we have run out of. DVDs, shampoo, puzzles, and Bounce dryer sheets for my new Italian friend Cindy who has the only clothes dryer in Rieti. (She’s American.)
• Watch 58 hours of “So You Think You Can Dance” condensed down to 3 with the help of the fast forward button on the DVR. The boys are definitely better this season.
• Eat Mexican food. And lots of chicken.
• Do laundry (with lots of help from mom.) Yes, rather than spend 2+ days doing laundry at home, I brought dirty laundry (and paid extra to do so as it exceeded the weight limit). It was done in far less time and probably 1/5 of the loads that it would have taken in Italy. And it’s soft. Not crunchy from drying on the line.
• Share some (but not all) pictures with mom and dad of the trip. They both enjoyed the “virtual tour” of the apartment that Julia and Edwin did for them.
• Attend the reunion festivities. I know some of my classmates on the reunion committee read this blog, and I thank them for that. They were actually the ones who encouraged me to start it, so if you like reading about our crazy adventures you also have them to thank for it. I actually travelled the farthest to get back for the reunion. Lance almost beat me out as he flew from Germany, but I stopped in DC and he flew direct so I was in the plane longest. Yea for me!!! Just a word about attending reunions: they are surreal. It was fantastic (in some way) to see each person again. Most everyone has grown up nicely. Like a wedding, you make the rounds and try to talk to as many people as you can but there were a few who I was really looking forward to talking to but kept missing them.
Too many people to talk to in not enough time. It seemed to be the theme for the weekend. Not enough time to do everything I really wanted to do. But enough to do what I needed to do.
Thanks to Brian for sending me and watching the kids while I was gone. I hear they had a blast: took in a water park outside Roma after they dropped me off at the airport; drove up to the mountains and went hiking and shouted to hear their echoes; and maybe even took in the local town festival “wash tub race” down the river.
Thanks to the reunion committee and the Dickson family for helping host such a great event. It was worth all of the uncomfortable hours (and hours and hours….) on theplane.
And finally, thanks to mom and dad for everything else. I’ll miss you and be looking forward to seeing you, “soon, soon.”
Achy Breaky News
I have very sad news. The mullet is making a HUGE comeback in Europe. This curious, slightly bizarre, couldn’t understand it the first time around hairstyle is back with a seeming vengeance. Small children (whose mothers I blame, really) and teens, and even (GASP!) some guys in their 20’s who REALLY should know better, have taken to cutting their hair into the “business in front, party in the back” style that plagued the 80’s (an otherwise fantastic decade for hair.) I can’t quite pin down who to blame for the whole thing. I think it probably goes back to footballers. The Mary Catherine Gallagher “Superstars” of Europe. When I get photographic evidence of the phenomenon, I’ll try and share. Until then, take my word: the mullet is back people.
Venezia: Due
Venezia: Due. So the rooms were particularly toasty. Toasty enough to necessitate sleeping with windows open (remember, screens are a relatively new invention that people don’t seem to feel the need to have…) and despite our best efforts of “OFF” bug protection, Aidan got eaten up while he slept. Back to the benedryl for him.
We headed over through St. Mark’s Square again and lined up to see the Doge’s palace. We got a tip off from the guidebook about ticket purchasing (this one actually worked this time) and waltzed right through the line. The kids were slightly impressed with the palace. Honestly, one fancy building is sort of blending with the next, even for me. Probably the most impressive part of the palace was the torrential rain that fell on the courtyard in a matter of minutes. Clearly, the kids are native Southern Californians when rain produces the same awed effect as thousand year old palaces – both are just about as foreign to them. The rain pouring from the gargoyle downspouts was pretty spectacular though. And with the rain came the benefit of a slight cooling off in temperature.
It was at this point during the weekend that Edwin started to be done. Done with sightseeing. Done with standing. Done with everything. It was also at this point that I remembered the lions. Venice’s “mascot” is the winged lion (St. Mark reference?...) and the city is full of them. Everywhere. And when there is not much to keep a young boy occupied, counting lions turns into a pretty fun game. So we lasted a little while longer at the Doge’s palace; made it over the Bridge of Sighs and sighed our way down to the prisons below which happened to look about Edwin’s size. We probably got to about 100 lions by then (in ceiling paintings, carved in mantelpieces, on doorknockers, etc.)
Since our family has an affinity for high places, we headed up the Campinile Bell Tower for an aerial view of the city. We timed it perfectly to be down from the tower before the top of the hour. It is a *working* bell tower, and very loud if you are standing up with the bells when it’s their time to go on. Of course, more lions were found up in the tower. Aidan still hasn’t grasped the concept of “Keep Out” as he wants to go up any closed off staircase wherever we are.
Back on the ground, Julia succumbed to the only pigeon pooping experience we had during the weekend. A miracle really, given the amount of time we spent watching and feeding the flying rats. I mean pigeons. After cleaning her shoe off (thankfully, not her hair. Although, there IS a tip in the guidebook on what to do if you get pooped on by a pigeon: Don’t wipe it off immediately; let it dry and then it will supposedly just flake off. Right. Let it dry. On Julia. Sure, like THAT was going to happen…) So more pigeon feeding and birds flapping around while Edwin counted even more lions.
After one more museum (actually, we went more for the air conditioning than the art) a bit more walking around and purchasing some clearly overpriced but desperately wanted souvenirs, we started back to retrieve our bags and make our way out of the city. Edwin wanted a gondolier hat and since he was a (relatively) great hole-in-the-lip loose-toothed trooper, we gave in. It also provided for some adorable fat-lipped pictures of him on the bridges overlooking the gondolas with his straw hat on. Colin pointed out that *he* hadn’t gotten any souvenirs yet. Which was true. When I asked him why not, he answered that he wasn’t really into the kind of stuff at the souvenir stand. (That doesn’t count the English language Herald Tribune newspaper only found in big cities and scoured by Colin for news from home on the sports front.) He pointed out the disparity of “fairness” to him that the other 3 always got money spent on souvenirs but he didn’t. To which Brian snarkily replied, “Yes, Colin, but you have eaten the most.” After being asked what he would LIKE as a souvenir, he then came up with “internet time at the café back in Rieti. “ That’s what he really wants. More than a glass fish, gondolier hat, or venetian mask. So that’s what he’ll get. And when it comes time to pack to go home, Colin’s bag will be the lightest.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Venezia: Uno
Venezia. City of bridges and canals. The most unique and beautiful city in the world. For me, it has beaten out Edinburgh, Brussels, Sedona, and most recently Prague in my list of top favorite/most beautiful cities in the world. It lives up to every wonderful description. A grand, fine, slightly decaying elegant dame of a city.
We left for Venezia on Friday evening, a few short hours after Edwin tried to rip open his lower lip with a teeter totter. We were a bit concerned that the trip would have to be abandoned, but Edwin perked up and convinced us he would be able to go. We drove as far as the outskirts of Bologna – and you can’t possibly imagine how much singing was done by Brian on that name. Expedia.com is now my favorite and best website “in the world” (you have to say it like Ana Gasteyer on SNL pretending to be Celine Dion) because we got 2 AIR CONDITIONED hotel rooms in Castel Maggiore for 14 Euro per person. And that included the HUGEST breakfast we’ve had to date in hotel rooms here. Brian was quite pleased. Brian and I had Ed in our room, Julia got to be with the brothers, to which she threw a fit about. Something about stinky big brothers… But it was a great deal of a hotel room. The only (slight) downside was the apparent “red light district” we had to drive through to get to it. I saw 2 women standing on the side of the darkened road (we arrived about 10:30 pm) and turned to Brian and said, “is that what I think it is?” After driving another block or so and encountering 4 or 5 more ladies, it was indeed what we thought it was. We were joking that maybe this was the reason our hotel was listed at such a low price. Turns out, the hotel was big and lovely, in a more industrial section of the town that perhaps catered to business (not the red light kind) travelers during the week. At breakfast, we encountered a type of UN summit as there was a different language spoken at almost every table.
Packed, up and out again, we made our way the final 1 ½ hours to Venezia. We parked our car in the big parking lot by the docks for the cruise ships and made our way to the boats. We had read that taking the Vaparetto was the best way to get into town, so after trying to figure out how to buy tickets, we headed to the Vaparetto stop. I will say that I displayed extreme (for me) restraint again when I was cut in front of in line by more Italians at the ticket purchase counter. I guess it does come in very handy to know the language and be able to actually ask where you are supposed to stand in line. We ended up spending probably way too much on tickets (on the 24 hour passes for all 6 of us) for tickets that didn’t once get checked by anyone. Welcome to Venezia. Most expensive city.
The Grand Canal was indeed grand, and HOT. Firenze and Roma (and Rieti too) had all prepared us for being tourists in the heat, so in comparison to those cities, being on the water in Venezia was almost cool in comparison. (almost) But it was still very humid and very hot. We made our way to our hotel to unload our bags. I had packed backpacks and bags for us to carry so we didn’t have to deal with suitcases… however, the pillows we were carrying made it a bit difficult to blend in…
The place we stayed in Venezia was near the Accademia. It was some sort of foundation for music. Maybe a music school/institute of some sort. It was in Rick Steves’ book and was on the cheaper side for Venezia The rooms were sort of dorm style – tall ceilinged rooms with lofts in them. The quad had 2 beds up in the loft and 2 on the bottom floor. Brian and my room had one bed up and one bed down. The lofts were accessed by narrow wood staircases. Both had bathrooms (hooray!) but no AC. (boo) but they did have fans which somewhat alleviated the heat. But not much.
After situating ourselves, we headed out into the heat into the heart of the city to St. Mark’s Square. There was a large stage set up in the middle of the square and it seems that we missed Elton John’s only Italian performance by 3 days. There were rows and rows of seats out there too, making the square look more like the floor of the Staples’ Center than the huge, historic palazzo it really is. We crossed through and found a place to eat. By this point in the trip, the kids are a bit sick of sandwiches. But that is the easiest thing to pick up here, along with Pizza, so Colin is always happy at mealtimes. There was no self-service, meaning you had to sit at the table and order from the waiter, or stand at the counter to eat. Standing isn’t really an option for our brood, so we squeezed into a normal Italian-sized booth (small-American sized…) and ordered. As I am reminded every time we eat out here, patience is virtuous. Italian time is different than American time. Also, soda is as expensive as beer or wine here. The beer Brian ordered seemed to be the size of a small keg.
We had snaggled some bread sticks with us leftover from our lunch and walked over to St. Mark’s Square so Aidan (and Brian) could feed the pigeons. Hundreds of pigeons awaited the many willing and eager tourists to feed them. Another Kodak picture moment. While this was happening, there was some sort of dance company performing on the stage in the middle of the square. Some ballet and contemporary dance pieces were being rehearsed for something, but we didn’t stick around for it all. The music of the performance overshadowed the musicians at the café’s playing Italian classics. For a mere $20 for a cup of coffee you can sit outside in the square and enjoy the view and the music. Or, like us, you can walk by, listen, and be waltzed by your husband as cross the square.
We wandered around after lunch, making our way to another Vaparetto (water bus) stop and tried to figure out how to get to Murano – the island that specialized in glass blowing. We made it over, after a really long ride in which Ed conked out on my lap. Once there, it was time for Gelatto and window shopping for glass trinkets. We discovered that the factory was closed on Saturday, and by the time we finally got through the glass shops (NOT EASY with Edwin) the museum was closing too. The kids picked out some glass animals and I found a few things. It was mostly a slow stroll down the canal way as it was still really hot.
We made our way back to the main part of Venezia via another vaparetto, passing the Cemetary island on the way. Our long bus boat rides let us see a few things we wouldn’t have seen had we stuck to the tourist highlights. On the “backside of Venezia” we saw people coming home from shopping, kids playing on a playground, a man with CP in a wheelchair (it’s mystery to me how he can navigate through the streets and stairs), older Italian women sparkily dressed for a Saturday evening out, an ambulance boat, police boats, and people leaning out their windows to talk to their neighbors. And getting off the bus-boat, we meandered back toward the square getting “lost” through the alley ways and bridges. Here we saw more people coming home from their Saturday outings: mothers pushing strollers – with industrial strength wheels; little girls with paper crowns obviously returning from a party of some sorts; people walking their (little) dogs; and lots of laundry hung between narrow slits between buildings.
On our way to a side canal Brian bargained for a ½ hour gondola ride. Next to visiting the Alps, this was his wish for our trip. I mention that Brian bargained for it, because he is so much better than I am at this. I can’t do it at all, I am such a sucker for the listed price. It was a family gondola ride, not the romantic moon-light one for two, but great fun just the same. The gondolier hummed nice Italian tunes for us and pointed out a few key sights/buildings. We were on side canals, so it was extremely peaceful as the gondola cut through the water. We came upon a few private motor boats which stopped for us: gondolas are harder to control, so they have the right of way on many canals. When Casanova’s house was pointed out to us, the kids asked who Casanova was. We smiled and tried to find the right word to describe him and finally settled on “ladies man.” Aidan asked, with a sly smile, if he was a polygamist. I answered that he wasn’t married to any of the women. Then Edwin piped up, fat lip and all, “so he wasn’t married, so he had LOTS of girlfriends.” We saw Marco Polo’s house which led to a little round of the game by the kids. Julia got the courage to ask the gondolier how many bridges were in Venezia and he told her there were more than 300! The coolest bridges we went under were the really low ones that he had to duck for. It was sort of like being on Pirates of the Carribean without the dips Colin thought. The ride was over almost too quickly, as we all enjoyed it so much. It was definitely the highlight of our weekend and will probably remain a highlight in our lives.
Off to dinner, more pasta and pizza, then splitting up for the end of the night. Brian and Edwin back to the rooms, the other kids and me off to ride more Vaparettos up and down the Grand Canal. Venezia by night is gorgeous. In the dark it’s harder to see the crumbling walls and foundations, so lit up, the city returns to its historical splendor. Most of the cruise ship tourist visitors are gone too, thinning out the crowds. The city sounds divine too: the strains of accordion music and aria singing from the gondolas and in the squares; Vivaldi concerts in non-air-conditioned halls thus leaving the doors ajar for non-ticket holders to “eavesdrop” on the steps; and of course people speaking Italiano and laughing. Julia tuckered out and dozed off on one of the rides, so we got off, crossed the Rialto bridge on foot (still alive with people and activity at 10:30 pm) and waited for the Vaparetto to take us back home. This is where we saw the rat scamper across the dock into the water. We were all pretty grossed out. Back at the rooms, we all climbed into our beds in our VERY warm rooms and tried to rest up for the next day.
To be continued…
Meat Departments
I took Aidan grocery shopping with me today. We discovered something I had only read about. Americans, I’m told, like their food pristine. Especially our meat. We like our meat cut up and prepared “in white coffins covered in plastic.” Not so the Europeans (and perhaps most of the rest of the world.) While noticing that the store doesn’t have the same selection of meats every day, I didn’t notice before the skinned whole animals in the meat department. Today I saw the rabbits and I poked Aidan and said, “Hey, look at that.” You should have seen his face… classic. We also found the octopus in the frozen section. Quite a selection here.
After the shopping, I took him to my morning bar and gave him his first cappuccino. He pestered my for it all the way there – even though I tried to convince him he’d like milk with coffee better. After drinking the whole thing, on the way home, he agreed that maybe next time he’ll try the milk with coffee.
After the shopping, I took him to my morning bar and gave him his first cappuccino. He pestered my for it all the way there – even though I tried to convince him he’d like milk with coffee better. After drinking the whole thing, on the way home, he agreed that maybe next time he’ll try the milk with coffee.
Medicinal arsenal
I took some preparations before I left in the case of some medical (minor) emergencies that may happen to us. I tried to think of the basics we would need, if something in fact did happen to any of us short of a broken bone or stitches. In my medicinal arsenal (to rival any 500+ year old weapons’ arsenal we have viewed in the past few weeks) I packed, and we have used the following:
Tylenol: headaches due to Le Gas leaking before the hot water heater was fixed
Advil: for aches and pains of the grown-ups associated but not limited to excessive walking, cramps (and they DO NOT have Playtex Sport here!!! I was right to pack all that stuff) and backaches due to lumpy beds
Benadryl: Miss Christal’s magical remedy for any childhood ailment – plane rides etc… But we have found it MOST helpful in combating (but alas, not winning) the battle against mosquito/bug bites. Aidan has had the most severe reactions. And when I say severe, I mean that we would be at the doctor’s office if we were at home. Huge monstrous turning bites that are hot red and swollen on him. We have to monitor him closely and have had to venture to the Italian Farmacia for additional supplies. We thought we had learned the lesson after Florence’s awful bug infested trip, but even with our precautions, Venice (city on the water) bested us.
Hydrocortisone: for the above itching due to the bites. All of us have used it, with Aidan needing his own tube.
Triple Antibiotic cream: used to try and keep the inflamation down with Aidan’s bites, and for many of the scrapes on Edwin’s legs and knees due to the amount of falling he does (due to the amount of running everywhere that he does)
Antifungal cream: One word: jock-itch. Italy is a damp country….
Band-Aids: fairly self-explanatory
Claritin: A godsend for Colin and myself as the flora that explodes in the summer is wrecking havoc on our sinuses.
What I have had to purchase (mostly by using Engliano – my word for “English with a few key Italian words thrown in) at the Farmacia:
More Benadryl or “anti istimine”
Idrocortisone
OFF bug spray and a few other bug repellents
Ear drops for swimmer’s ear
We were doing well with all of our medicine but the one thing that came in the MOST handy was: ice. Ice for numbing bug bites and ice for keeping the swelling down on Ed’s lip. Ed had an experience with a teeter-totter that didn’t go his way. Basically, he fell/hit/did something that landed his bottom teeth through his lower lip – almost all the way through. Additionally, he nearly completely knocked the top two teeth out. They are very loose and surrounded by many purple hematomas now. As if his speech wasn’t hard enough to understand, now he’s got the fat lip and loose front two teeth. This happened just a few hours before we were supposed to leave for Venice. After some Tylenol, a nap, and a phone call to Gramma Lee and Papa Paul to see if the ER was perhaps necessary, we decided to continue with the trip with as much yogurt and ice as we had in the house. Ice for the swelling, and yogurt for Ed’s current semi-liquid diet.
So there’s the medicine update. Just FYI in case you are travelling and need some advice on what to pack.
Tylenol: headaches due to Le Gas leaking before the hot water heater was fixed
Advil: for aches and pains of the grown-ups associated but not limited to excessive walking, cramps (and they DO NOT have Playtex Sport here!!! I was right to pack all that stuff) and backaches due to lumpy beds
Benadryl: Miss Christal’s magical remedy for any childhood ailment – plane rides etc… But we have found it MOST helpful in combating (but alas, not winning) the battle against mosquito/bug bites. Aidan has had the most severe reactions. And when I say severe, I mean that we would be at the doctor’s office if we were at home. Huge monstrous turning bites that are hot red and swollen on him. We have to monitor him closely and have had to venture to the Italian Farmacia for additional supplies. We thought we had learned the lesson after Florence’s awful bug infested trip, but even with our precautions, Venice (city on the water) bested us.
Hydrocortisone: for the above itching due to the bites. All of us have used it, with Aidan needing his own tube.
Triple Antibiotic cream: used to try and keep the inflamation down with Aidan’s bites, and for many of the scrapes on Edwin’s legs and knees due to the amount of falling he does (due to the amount of running everywhere that he does)
Antifungal cream: One word: jock-itch. Italy is a damp country….
Band-Aids: fairly self-explanatory
Claritin: A godsend for Colin and myself as the flora that explodes in the summer is wrecking havoc on our sinuses.
What I have had to purchase (mostly by using Engliano – my word for “English with a few key Italian words thrown in) at the Farmacia:
More Benadryl or “anti istimine”
Idrocortisone
OFF bug spray and a few other bug repellents
Ear drops for swimmer’s ear
We were doing well with all of our medicine but the one thing that came in the MOST handy was: ice. Ice for numbing bug bites and ice for keeping the swelling down on Ed’s lip. Ed had an experience with a teeter-totter that didn’t go his way. Basically, he fell/hit/did something that landed his bottom teeth through his lower lip – almost all the way through. Additionally, he nearly completely knocked the top two teeth out. They are very loose and surrounded by many purple hematomas now. As if his speech wasn’t hard enough to understand, now he’s got the fat lip and loose front two teeth. This happened just a few hours before we were supposed to leave for Venice. After some Tylenol, a nap, and a phone call to Gramma Lee and Papa Paul to see if the ER was perhaps necessary, we decided to continue with the trip with as much yogurt and ice as we had in the house. Ice for the swelling, and yogurt for Ed’s current semi-liquid diet.
So there’s the medicine update. Just FYI in case you are travelling and need some advice on what to pack.
Friday, July 11, 2008
On Vacation in Italy...
So we're on vacation. And we're in Italy.
It's hard to reconcile the two and not feel guilty all the time.
Yes, we could be spending every possible minute seeing the amazing country and visiting amazing works of art.
But even all of that can get old very quickly - especially when you are 5. Or 13.
So we are spending some days doing what we do when we are on vacation: nothing.
And I have to believe that this is OK. I try and think of it as re-charging our batteries for the ultra-tourist mode we go into on the weekends. How much time do the kids -not to mention moi - really want to spend in the car? {sometimes synchronistically lurching forward everytime mom shifts gear... but I swear I'm getting better....except for today when I nearly came to a complete stop on the highway rather than get squashed between 2 mack trucks}
So our days have been filled: with what, it's hard to say.
We go shopping for groceries more often than at home, given the size of the fridge and the propensity of the Italians to eat things fresh. I go to the local bar/cafe each morning to have my cappucino. This week, I was struck in another (frustrating for me) conversation in Italian when the older gentlemen in the bar found out I was American. It seems that the one bar I go to for convenience (close to home) is frequented by an older population than the one across the street. During my encounter with an animated gentleman, perhaps in his 70's?, I finally got the message that he wanted me to go outside and meet his wife - who was sitting in the car waiting for him while he was in socializing and having his morning coffee! (Ah, Italia....) He introduced me to her; she was very kind and with my limited Italian I was able to tell her that I lived here and that my husband was working here for the summer. We then parted and she gave me my first (and only) true Italian farewell/greeting with the air kissing on both cheeks. I found that some things go beyond language: the relationship and communication of a husband and wife long married is easily recognized no matter what language they are speaking. She was finishing his sentences, and he hers, all the while nodding, gesturing and rolling their eyes at each other. Hysterical. I could just imagine her thinking: "Oh there he goes again, picking up someone else for me to meet...." They were very sweet.
We cook our meals at home, and I try and make things that the kids are used to while improvising where I have to. Pork chops, sausages and ground beef are easy to cook up. Turkey breast is sometimes available and chicken is also, but chicken is *very* expensive. Pasta is what we eat when we go out, but I do make some pasta at home too. And the sauce. From scratch. Because bottled sauce is apparantly against the law here. So is bottled salad dressing and peanut butter. It has been requested that I must bring back peanut butter and ranch dressing when I go home next week (more on that later...) So no sauce, no ranch, no peanut butter, but 2 grocery store aisles of packaged toast. Toast. In. A. Package. To Buy. Because owning a toaster and making your own would be WAY too difficult, as opposed to whipping up a pasta sauce that really needs to simmer for hours...
Not judging... just commentating...
Sometimes we head down the street to get pizza from a local pizzeria (where the owners speak some English! because his wife is British and coincidentally teaches English courses to the workers at the Baxter plant! and the 20 something daughter is bilingual and speaks English with a thick cockney accent) Today we were having our lunch and another English speaking couple walked in. They knew the owners very well and we were introduced to the couple. It turns out that the woman lives here for part of the year in the Sabina hills (between here and Roma) and is a photographer. At one time she used to photograph corporate events for... Baxter! - and the world keeps getting smaller... - and now she shoots... ballroom dance competitions and events. HOW COOL IS THAT?????? I asked her, wide-eyed, if she knew Tony Dovolani and when she replied, "yes, of course, his number is in my cell phone do you want it?" I just about fell off my chair. She knows all the people I watch on my dance shows - and in fact has had a few come and visit her here this summer. Christian Perry and Nick... something, can't remember his last name. He was on "Dancing with the Stars" She let me know that Jonathan Roberts is the nicest of people and he just won the American Smooth championship in New York with his new partner. I was surprised to hear that he doesn't dance with his wife Anna. She has known Julianne Hough and Derek and Mark since they were all about 6 or 7. Of course I asked about my Maks - stating that I really did think he was the most beautiful man alive - and she said that she knew him and that the cocky arrogant thing is NOT an act. I didn't think it was. She says Jonathan is the nicest and that Tony was nicer a few years ago but that fame has gotten to him a bit. You can probably tell how excited I was about the conversation given how much I've written about it. It's a bit of an obsession of mine, that ballroom world, and to actually be able to have 1) a conversation in English today about 2) ballroom dance with 3) someone who personally knows some of the biggest names in "TV" ballroom, well, it was just too cool. Ironically, she said she's never met any other Americans in Rieti before, and that this was the first time. She has lived here on and off for years. She gave me her card, but leaves for the states on Tuesday, so I'm sad we probably won't connect here again. I will be looking her up online though...
Partway through our conversation, a gentleman noticed us speaking English and came up to us to tell us he was a singer and then launched into singing for us. I was a bit perplexed, but she handled the situation with ease, thanking him, but asking him to wait until we had finished our conversation please (all in italian, which I caught a bit of.) I had persuaded Julia to stay with me while I sent the boys home with the keys to the apartment during one of the man's songs (Ok, so maybe it was more like "bribed" than "persuaded" but Julia did end up staying with me to the end.) After leaving our new friends, we walked home via our local "bar" and she was able to pick up a 10 cent piece of gum. While waiting to pay, another older gentelman who had been having his afternoon coffee turned to Julia and with a big smile started playing the "let me see if I can guess your name game" It was very sweet. After Maria, Francesca, and Teresa, he said something close to the J sound, and we encouraged him on until he got Giulia (the spelling is different here.) Big
smiles followed all around. I have noticed that other than the most obvious attention we get for the *number* of children we have, we get the attention when I'm one on one with them or with just Julia and Edwin for the mere fact that they are children. The people here seem to delight in the children more than the strangers at home.
So we stay at home and lounge:
We read books (Aidan has almost completed the first 2 books in the Twilight series in less than 3 days. I was unsure if he would like them, and held off giving them to him for a few weeks while I read and then re-read them. I am totally hooked as is, apparantly, Aidan. Edward and Bella 4ever!)
Play on the Gameboy - a true lesson in sharing and taking turns.
Watch movies and fight over which ones to watch.
Watch Italian MTV (the only channel that has any English on it - all other American shows on other TV channels are dubbed in Italian. The variety is amazing: Charlie's Angels, Murder She Wrote, Roswell, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Meredith Baxter Birney made for TV movies...)
Listen to music on the ipods.
Wash laundry - an extraordinary amount of laundry and the time it takes to do it.
Play Uno.
Put puzzles together.
Cook.
Play outside with the friends.
And sometimes we venture out in the heat to find some of the best pizza in the world and some Gelatto.
THAT is what we do to fill our time when we are on vacation. In Italy.
Basta così,
joelle
It's hard to reconcile the two and not feel guilty all the time.
Yes, we could be spending every possible minute seeing the amazing country and visiting amazing works of art.
But even all of that can get old very quickly - especially when you are 5. Or 13.
So we are spending some days doing what we do when we are on vacation: nothing.
And I have to believe that this is OK. I try and think of it as re-charging our batteries for the ultra-tourist mode we go into on the weekends. How much time do the kids -not to mention moi - really want to spend in the car? {sometimes synchronistically lurching forward everytime mom shifts gear... but I swear I'm getting better....except for today when I nearly came to a complete stop on the highway rather than get squashed between 2 mack trucks}
So our days have been filled: with what, it's hard to say.
We go shopping for groceries more often than at home, given the size of the fridge and the propensity of the Italians to eat things fresh. I go to the local bar/cafe each morning to have my cappucino. This week, I was struck in another (frustrating for me) conversation in Italian when the older gentlemen in the bar found out I was American. It seems that the one bar I go to for convenience (close to home) is frequented by an older population than the one across the street. During my encounter with an animated gentleman, perhaps in his 70's?, I finally got the message that he wanted me to go outside and meet his wife - who was sitting in the car waiting for him while he was in socializing and having his morning coffee! (Ah, Italia....) He introduced me to her; she was very kind and with my limited Italian I was able to tell her that I lived here and that my husband was working here for the summer. We then parted and she gave me my first (and only) true Italian farewell/greeting with the air kissing on both cheeks. I found that some things go beyond language: the relationship and communication of a husband and wife long married is easily recognized no matter what language they are speaking. She was finishing his sentences, and he hers, all the while nodding, gesturing and rolling their eyes at each other. Hysterical. I could just imagine her thinking: "Oh there he goes again, picking up someone else for me to meet...." They were very sweet.
We cook our meals at home, and I try and make things that the kids are used to while improvising where I have to. Pork chops, sausages and ground beef are easy to cook up. Turkey breast is sometimes available and chicken is also, but chicken is *very* expensive. Pasta is what we eat when we go out, but I do make some pasta at home too. And the sauce. From scratch. Because bottled sauce is apparantly against the law here. So is bottled salad dressing and peanut butter. It has been requested that I must bring back peanut butter and ranch dressing when I go home next week (more on that later...) So no sauce, no ranch, no peanut butter, but 2 grocery store aisles of packaged toast. Toast. In. A. Package. To Buy. Because owning a toaster and making your own would be WAY too difficult, as opposed to whipping up a pasta sauce that really needs to simmer for hours...
Not judging... just commentating...
Sometimes we head down the street to get pizza from a local pizzeria (where the owners speak some English! because his wife is British and coincidentally teaches English courses to the workers at the Baxter plant! and the 20 something daughter is bilingual and speaks English with a thick cockney accent) Today we were having our lunch and another English speaking couple walked in. They knew the owners very well and we were introduced to the couple. It turns out that the woman lives here for part of the year in the Sabina hills (between here and Roma) and is a photographer. At one time she used to photograph corporate events for... Baxter! - and the world keeps getting smaller... - and now she shoots... ballroom dance competitions and events. HOW COOL IS THAT?????? I asked her, wide-eyed, if she knew Tony Dovolani and when she replied, "yes, of course, his number is in my cell phone do you want it?" I just about fell off my chair. She knows all the people I watch on my dance shows - and in fact has had a few come and visit her here this summer. Christian Perry and Nick... something, can't remember his last name. He was on "Dancing with the Stars" She let me know that Jonathan Roberts is the nicest of people and he just won the American Smooth championship in New York with his new partner. I was surprised to hear that he doesn't dance with his wife Anna. She has known Julianne Hough and Derek and Mark since they were all about 6 or 7. Of course I asked about my Maks - stating that I really did think he was the most beautiful man alive - and she said that she knew him and that the cocky arrogant thing is NOT an act. I didn't think it was. She says Jonathan is the nicest and that Tony was nicer a few years ago but that fame has gotten to him a bit. You can probably tell how excited I was about the conversation given how much I've written about it. It's a bit of an obsession of mine, that ballroom world, and to actually be able to have 1) a conversation in English today about 2) ballroom dance with 3) someone who personally knows some of the biggest names in "TV" ballroom, well, it was just too cool. Ironically, she said she's never met any other Americans in Rieti before, and that this was the first time. She has lived here on and off for years. She gave me her card, but leaves for the states on Tuesday, so I'm sad we probably won't connect here again. I will be looking her up online though...
Partway through our conversation, a gentleman noticed us speaking English and came up to us to tell us he was a singer and then launched into singing for us. I was a bit perplexed, but she handled the situation with ease, thanking him, but asking him to wait until we had finished our conversation please (all in italian, which I caught a bit of.) I had persuaded Julia to stay with me while I sent the boys home with the keys to the apartment during one of the man's songs (Ok, so maybe it was more like "bribed" than "persuaded" but Julia did end up staying with me to the end.) After leaving our new friends, we walked home via our local "bar" and she was able to pick up a 10 cent piece of gum. While waiting to pay, another older gentelman who had been having his afternoon coffee turned to Julia and with a big smile started playing the "let me see if I can guess your name game" It was very sweet. After Maria, Francesca, and Teresa, he said something close to the J sound, and we encouraged him on until he got Giulia (the spelling is different here.) Big
smiles followed all around. I have noticed that other than the most obvious attention we get for the *number* of children we have, we get the attention when I'm one on one with them or with just Julia and Edwin for the mere fact that they are children. The people here seem to delight in the children more than the strangers at home.
So we stay at home and lounge:
We read books (Aidan has almost completed the first 2 books in the Twilight series in less than 3 days. I was unsure if he would like them, and held off giving them to him for a few weeks while I read and then re-read them. I am totally hooked as is, apparantly, Aidan. Edward and Bella 4ever!)
Play on the Gameboy - a true lesson in sharing and taking turns.
Watch movies and fight over which ones to watch.
Watch Italian MTV (the only channel that has any English on it - all other American shows on other TV channels are dubbed in Italian. The variety is amazing: Charlie's Angels, Murder She Wrote, Roswell, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Meredith Baxter Birney made for TV movies...)
Listen to music on the ipods.
Wash laundry - an extraordinary amount of laundry and the time it takes to do it.
Play Uno.
Put puzzles together.
Cook.
Play outside with the friends.
And sometimes we venture out in the heat to find some of the best pizza in the world and some Gelatto.
THAT is what we do to fill our time when we are on vacation. In Italy.
Basta così,
joelle
Monday, July 7, 2008
Candles
I am 38 today.
Aidan went out and secretly got a cake for me at the store down the hill. He got candles too. But there were only 12 in a box, and he didn't want to have to get 4 boxes, so he made a "3" and "8" out of candles on the top of the cake.
I need FOUR boxes of candles now. FOUR!!!
That is so wrong.
Aidan went out and secretly got a cake for me at the store down the hill. He got candles too. But there were only 12 in a box, and he didn't want to have to get 4 boxes, so he made a "3" and "8" out of candles on the top of the cake.
I need FOUR boxes of candles now. FOUR!!!
That is so wrong.
Counting In Italiano
Edwin and Julia can count to 50 in Italian. They have learned how to do this the way most kids do: by playing hide and seek with the neighborhood kids. Some of the older neighbor kids count in English and our kids count in Italian. Edwin is getting very good at it. He counted all the stairs up from the sections of the Colosseum yesterday too. Julia goes out many times during the day to find her friends but they are not always out. After dinner is when they mostly play. Just like at home.
A funny thing happened on the way to....
A funny thing happened on the way to the forum...
We discovered that the forum is now only available by ticket purchase. A few months ago the LA Times had run an article on Roma that mentioned this, but there was (of course) no mention of this minor detail in any of the guidebooks. Which left us a bit perplexed and turned around looking for an entrance on a hot, dusty Sunday morning in the midst of thousands of other tourists in Roma. We found the line (of course) and proceded to wait for our presumebly, hopefully "E-ticket ride" entrance tickets. It took about 45 minutes, during which: A) an Italian family cut in line in front of us and it took everything in my power NOT to say anything rude and be THAT kind of American {turns out, they cut into the wrong line anyway and they, in fact, waited needlessly in front of us to get in since they already had their tickets! Ah...karma}; B) Colin commented how similar the line felt to Splash Mountain, and didn't we wish we were going on that instead?; and C) Edwin is happy anwhere there are small rocks to play with.
We managed to buy our 5 tickets, Edwin was free, and we proceeded to make our way up Palatine Hill. [NB if you are an EU citizen and under 18, most attractions around Italy are free. Cool for them, bummer for us large-familied Americans...) By this time it's getting close to noon, as driving into Roma, finding the line and waiting in line have taken the better part of the morning.
A note about driving in Roma: it's not as bad as I thought it would be, given that we went in on a Sunday when the traffic is light and some streets are closed down to cars. However, it's still not something I think I will be able to handle on my own in the stick shift. Brian did famously trying to navigate, drive and avoid being hit by the Italians; I don't know if I have it in me yet to try and tackle this feat. In addition given the Global GPS system's knack for being right only about 50% of the time, I think I'll stick to the country. We did find the parking lot at the Villa Borghese (Roma's Central Park) and found the Metro stop without too much difficulty.
Roma's Metro leaves a bit to be desired. Some trains are air-condtioned, others (very sadly) are not. Julia was a bit disturbed by the mother on the subway begging/asking very loudly for help for her children. She was carrying a sleeping toddler in a sling asking for money and pointing to the bottle of milk she was holding. "What is she doing mommy?" Julia asked me and I told her she was asking for help for her children. To which I REALLY wanted to turn to the woman and say "Your baby would be better off if you breastfed him..." but I don't speak Italian... so I just smiled at her. It's a tricky having our children with us in situations like these. They are teachable moments, but are not easy to explain. We all have the culture shock of being out of our bubble of Santa Clarita, but add that to the global awareness of other languages, sounds, smells and customs, factoring in global poverty can be a lot to take in.
So we start the trek up Palatine Hill, once the sight of countless palaces for roman emperors. I was struck by the heat, the dust, and the general relaxed sense of security among the ruins. Large stones and pieces of columns were everywhere - perfect climbing structures for small boys. We wound our way down to the Forum and we did a fairly quick Rick Steves' guidebook tour; taking appropriate pictures along the way. A highlight for the kids (mostly Ed) was walking along the Via Sacra on the large stones - hopping from stone to stone in the footsteps of Caesar Augustus.
We exited through the Arch of Septimus Severus ("like Severus Snape!") and headed to Capitol Hill. At this point thirst and hunger had overcome us all; one thing about ruins... there's no shade to them. We lined up at one of Italy's many water faucet/fountains. The public water seems quite safe to drink - as we have been drinking it for weeks now and no one has succombed to any intestinal bugs. You just line up with the rest of the people/tourists and fill your water bottles that you make your big brothers carry in the backpack all day for you.
Pizza from the over-priced tourist stand was the menu for us, as we didn't have any energy to find anything else and the colosseum loomed ahead. We actually ate on some steps next to a "Gladiator" on his lunch break - guy dressed up in a costume for paying tourists pictures. The kids are used to this kind of thing, as we see many (usually ragged) costumed characters when we go to Hollywood to see movies. Only one character "statue" truly impressed me: A Renaissance man perched on a box in a completely aged bronze color-scheme. The box matched the clothes which matched his make-up and it looked very convincing. I'd pay just to get a closer look at the obvious art work involved to achieve the effect!
The Colosseum beckoned and we rationalized that we could sit in the shade on *those* steps just as easily as we could stay sitting on the ones we were on. So we headed through the security check line - blessedly faster than the ticket line - and since the tickets we bought for the Forum/Palatine were combo tickets (a 2fer!) we walked right past the LONG line for tickets at the Colosseum: "Mom! It's just like Fast Pass!" Once inside, we walked around - sat on more pieces of 2000 year old columns and once upstairs in the higher level passage ways, enjoyed the lovely breeze that found us. This is how we spent most of our time at the Colosseum. Venturing out in the sun a bit to take in the view, but mostly sitting in the cool shade upstairs enjoying the view (of, essentially, the hallways) from the inside. Ed was content - again - to find many small rocks to play with, throw and balance on his legs while sitting on the crumbling steps to a closed off section of the loggia. Aidan purchased a miniature WORKING catapult pencil sharpener from the book shop. The little rocks Ed was playing with fit PERFECTLY inside the catapult. 3 guesses on how long Aidan had it before it was taken away by Mom... and the first 2 don't count.
Our visit was brought to a rather quick end when Ed announced very publicly that he had to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW. "But don't worry, it's only number uno." So we found the bathrooms and everyone did their thing - with much complaining. I don't have a lot to say for European bathrooms. Many in the women's rooms don't have seats. Julia isn't impressed, to say the very least. I'm just happy when it's not a hole in the floor, which we have encountered only once - and she and I decided we didn't need it THAT badly.
We made our way back to the Metro stop via some gelatti ("i" is the plural form of the word in Italian) and a capuccino for me. Always a good treat for us. The English speaking waiter wanted to know if I wanted Italian or American coffee. When I answered correctly (Italian) he said good, American coffee is just black water.
Our Metro Stop was at the Spanish steps and Brian and I pressed the kids to go and see them: much groaning was involved. It wasn't a very long walk, but more walking at the end of the day. At the base of the steps is a fountain that was crowded with people sitting around it. Some had their feet in it. Once Aidan saw this, he got really excited and wanted to do it too. When in Rome.... so we said yes and got some great pictures of Aidan, Julia and Edwin with shoes and socks off, legs dangling in the fountain. The water was freezing they said. At one point, and elderlyItalian lady asked Aidan to dip her hankercheif in the water for her so she could wash some ice cream off her shirt. He did.
Trekked back to the car and made our way back to Rieti. The kids were hungry when we got home, the stores and our favorite pizza place were all closed (Sunday) and so we ended up at the most Italian of places for dinner...
McDonalds.
And when I did the wash this morning, a little piece of the Colosseum fell out of Ed's pocket. Pretty cool.
Friday, July 4, 2008
The perfect bar
The perfect bars exist in Italia. They are called bars, but are more like cafes. They serve divine coffee and espresso all day. There are counters for standing and drinking your cafe, and maybe a few table with chairs. Behind the bar, are rows of drinks of all kinds: beer, hard alcohol, wine and soda. So the bar is actually a bar at night, or I guess whenever you want that kind of drink - we are in Italia afterall. Coffee bar by morning and day, wine/mixed drink/beer hall by night.
Perfection...
Cheers!
Perfection...
Cheers!
Family oddity
I should preface this post by shedding some light on the population issues here in Europe. In northern Europe, the government is actually paying women to have children. They are so worried about the population decline, that they are trying different ways to entice couples to start families. It hasn't taken hold here in southern Europe, lack of resources and all (less socialized government...) but the declining population is still an issue.
So, when I walk down the street with my 4, yes FOUR!!!, children, we often turn heads. It's a bit strange being such a spectacle. Ed sticks out the most, being the cute little bellisimo that he is. Add the towering red head of Colin and the difficulty they all have of being on the quiet side, well... let's just say, we are quickly becoming known to the community.
When me and my kids turn more heads than the "little person" (not pc to say midget these days) at the bus stop, you know we don't have a chance of blending here.
That's OK, we'll embrace it and make the most of it. I was actually stopped and got my hand shaken by a lovely gentelmen who noticed the kids.
A la familia!!!!
So, when I walk down the street with my 4, yes FOUR!!!, children, we often turn heads. It's a bit strange being such a spectacle. Ed sticks out the most, being the cute little bellisimo that he is. Add the towering red head of Colin and the difficulty they all have of being on the quiet side, well... let's just say, we are quickly becoming known to the community.
When me and my kids turn more heads than the "little person" (not pc to say midget these days) at the bus stop, you know we don't have a chance of blending here.
That's OK, we'll embrace it and make the most of it. I was actually stopped and got my hand shaken by a lovely gentelmen who noticed the kids.
A la familia!!!!
Small world in Italy
We have Le Gas. We have hot water. We are bathing and living La Dolce Vita - or so I was told we would be living by one of the many men who have come into the apartment to stare, but not do anything to, the hot water heater. Maurizio came through and installed a new unit (fairly small, but supports a Brian sized shower ie; super long) unfortunately the HORSE HAIR they use to make the connections between the pipes tight is leaking le gas. So I anticipate a few more visits from Maurizio in the near future. Until then, we keep the kitchen door closed and the kitchen patio doors open to ventilate the smell & gas. On another horse front, I was super glad I had my dictionary with me at a restaurant lately... Cheval was on the menu and I almost ordered it until I realized that it was horsemeat. Pretty interesting...
So this week really has been spent waiting for various workmen. The kids have enjoyed the downtime at the apartment playing games and watching a few movies on the computer. I was really glad I threw some card games in the suitcases. Uno is pretty universal for all the ages. We got a ton of laundry done - even with the length of time it takes to do one load. A few days in a row at about the same time in the afternoon, the skies opened up and just poured down on us. This sent us frantically to the balconies to pull the clothes in - not anxious to repeat the °whole ° washing process. The last day we had a true thunderstorm with marble sized hail. The kids loved it.
A few days I have taken the kids into town to walk around a bit and get our bearings. It was the first day when we discovered what a small town this really is. They enjoy the °risposo° here in Rieti. It's like a siesta: everything (practically) shuts down from 1-4:40 pm. People go home to eat the midday meal and rest from the heat. Then things open up again until 7:30 or 8 when they then close for the day and everyone goes to dinner. We haven't really gotten used to the eating late thing, but since we have our own kitchen now (Hooray!) we can eat when we like. It's later than normal for us, but still early for Italia. I think most of Italia in the small towns practice the riposo in the summertime. It's actually quite a nice idea. Thankfully, the big cities don't do it as much, so we'll be able to sightsee more in Rome without worrying about things closing.
I have started driving the car more now. Not well, but driving just the same. When Brian had the car last week, people at the plant would come up to him and say "I just saw your GIANT car parked outside!!! How do you drive that?" In truth, the car is smaller than my Toyota Sienna at home. BUT (and it's a big one) the roads are so much narrower here, that I might as well be driving a Hummer. Seriously. I nearly had a heart attack yesterday when I was almost squashed between a huge bus and a guy on a bike on the windy road back home from Baxter. Did I mention that if you go slow enough (read: me) people just pass you on the left - regardless of oncoming traffic? Nerves of steel are what it takes to be behind the wheel over here.
The town we live in is ridiculously old. Older, literally, than dirt. It's pretty awesome, in the truest sense of the word. Castle fortress walls, 2500 year old sunken bridges, the whole thing. I took the kids to see a castle in the Sabine hills today (yes, that Sabine, from the Bible) but it was closed for rennovation. We walked around the village and then the kids found a playground to occupy themselves for a while. It was nice to be outside - a good change from the apartment.
I have gone grocery shopping a few times now. Our fridge doesn't hold as much as the ones at home, so I need to go more frequently. The store is a mystery to me: how the Italians remain thin on this diet still confounds me. There is a decent produce section, but the produce is only the stuff in season, so the variety is small. Then the deli section is half cheese. There is one whole aisle of fresh pasta and 2 LONG aisles of dried pasta. 2 long aisles of bread products - note: the Italins package toast and sell it. Not crackers. Toast. It's very odd. Then there are 2 long aisles of sweets/biscotti. It's more than half the store the toast, pasta, bread and cheese. WTF? The kids have a theory about the smoking - that maybe that's the reason people are skinny. Julia and Ed ask constantly: "Don't they know it's bad for them??????" Gratefully, there is no smoking allowed in buildings, so restaurants here (unlike Switzerland and Austira) are smoke-free.
I met a Pizzeria owner last night who, with his daughter, speak English. His wife is British and coincidentally teaches English courses at the Baxter plant for the employees. He is also Maurizio's brother. Small world here in Italy.
Ciao, Ciao,
Joelle
ps - the winner is Patti who guessed "Waiting for Godot" on the last question.
So this week really has been spent waiting for various workmen. The kids have enjoyed the downtime at the apartment playing games and watching a few movies on the computer. I was really glad I threw some card games in the suitcases. Uno is pretty universal for all the ages. We got a ton of laundry done - even with the length of time it takes to do one load. A few days in a row at about the same time in the afternoon, the skies opened up and just poured down on us. This sent us frantically to the balconies to pull the clothes in - not anxious to repeat the °whole ° washing process. The last day we had a true thunderstorm with marble sized hail. The kids loved it.
A few days I have taken the kids into town to walk around a bit and get our bearings. It was the first day when we discovered what a small town this really is. They enjoy the °risposo° here in Rieti. It's like a siesta: everything (practically) shuts down from 1-4:40 pm. People go home to eat the midday meal and rest from the heat. Then things open up again until 7:30 or 8 when they then close for the day and everyone goes to dinner. We haven't really gotten used to the eating late thing, but since we have our own kitchen now (Hooray!) we can eat when we like. It's later than normal for us, but still early for Italia. I think most of Italia in the small towns practice the riposo in the summertime. It's actually quite a nice idea. Thankfully, the big cities don't do it as much, so we'll be able to sightsee more in Rome without worrying about things closing.
I have started driving the car more now. Not well, but driving just the same. When Brian had the car last week, people at the plant would come up to him and say "I just saw your GIANT car parked outside!!! How do you drive that?" In truth, the car is smaller than my Toyota Sienna at home. BUT (and it's a big one) the roads are so much narrower here, that I might as well be driving a Hummer. Seriously. I nearly had a heart attack yesterday when I was almost squashed between a huge bus and a guy on a bike on the windy road back home from Baxter. Did I mention that if you go slow enough (read: me) people just pass you on the left - regardless of oncoming traffic? Nerves of steel are what it takes to be behind the wheel over here.
The town we live in is ridiculously old. Older, literally, than dirt. It's pretty awesome, in the truest sense of the word. Castle fortress walls, 2500 year old sunken bridges, the whole thing. I took the kids to see a castle in the Sabine hills today (yes, that Sabine, from the Bible) but it was closed for rennovation. We walked around the village and then the kids found a playground to occupy themselves for a while. It was nice to be outside - a good change from the apartment.
I have gone grocery shopping a few times now. Our fridge doesn't hold as much as the ones at home, so I need to go more frequently. The store is a mystery to me: how the Italians remain thin on this diet still confounds me. There is a decent produce section, but the produce is only the stuff in season, so the variety is small. Then the deli section is half cheese. There is one whole aisle of fresh pasta and 2 LONG aisles of dried pasta. 2 long aisles of bread products - note: the Italins package toast and sell it. Not crackers. Toast. It's very odd. Then there are 2 long aisles of sweets/biscotti. It's more than half the store the toast, pasta, bread and cheese. WTF? The kids have a theory about the smoking - that maybe that's the reason people are skinny. Julia and Ed ask constantly: "Don't they know it's bad for them??????" Gratefully, there is no smoking allowed in buildings, so restaurants here (unlike Switzerland and Austira) are smoke-free.
I met a Pizzeria owner last night who, with his daughter, speak English. His wife is British and coincidentally teaches English courses at the Baxter plant for the employees. He is also Maurizio's brother. Small world here in Italy.
Ciao, Ciao,
Joelle
ps - the winner is Patti who guessed "Waiting for Godot" on the last question.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Italian time
Waiting waiting waiting... like leaves, like ashes. $20 to whomever gets that reference...
So, Le Gas came yesterday. My landlord arrived (on time!) with Le Gas and proceded to have yet another conversation in Italian with me. I think I may deceive people with my fantastic accent :). They actually think I'm fluent. In fact, the receptionist at the convent in Firenze said to me, "Are you American; American American? Not from anywhere else?" Since, I guess, I can fake being local with good pronunciation. I have a good ear. I wish I had a good memory, since that is what I need to learn this language...
Anyway Luisa came with Le Gas and he got it working... ONly to find out that the hot water heater doesn't actually work. So she promised that someone would come tomorrow at 10.00 AM. They arrived at 5:10 PM and told me (In Italian) that it would take 2 or 3 hours to install the heater and that they would come back domanni. And would I prefer the morning or afternoon. That part I got (with some sign language) So maybe tomorrow, we will have acqu calda after 7 days in the apartment.... Here is hoping and waiting...
Meanwhile, we have been bathing by heating up all the water we can on now the 4!!! burners we have working (thanks to Le Gas). Oy, what a production.
Time here has been spent doing laundry, cooking and cleaning. And watching Italian MTV.
Julia met some neighbor girls today and played with them for a few hours. They were very sweet with us and tried to speak English with us. They brought out their dictionaries and notebooks to help. Julia Ed and Aidan ended up playing hide and seek with them.
I sent Colin and Aidan out this morning to investigate the small shopping center at the bottom of the hill. They found this internet cafe HOORAY!!! Colin didn't get to come with me tonight because he forgot to put deoderant on this AM. Trust me. I needed to get the deoderant point accross and this was the most severe way I could think of. I hope he does not ever forget again. You cannot possibly imagine the difficulty of laundry here, and the lack of deoderant wearing teenagers compounds it...
So I will post just a bit. They are going to kick me out soon. It's almost closing time. Keep those emails coming people. They really help me feel connected.
Ciao Ciao,
Please pray for the hot water heater to work tomorrow. Pray that Mauroizio and Antonio know what they heck they are doing.
Joelle
So, Le Gas came yesterday. My landlord arrived (on time!) with Le Gas and proceded to have yet another conversation in Italian with me. I think I may deceive people with my fantastic accent :). They actually think I'm fluent. In fact, the receptionist at the convent in Firenze said to me, "Are you American; American American? Not from anywhere else?" Since, I guess, I can fake being local with good pronunciation. I have a good ear. I wish I had a good memory, since that is what I need to learn this language...
Anyway Luisa came with Le Gas and he got it working... ONly to find out that the hot water heater doesn't actually work. So she promised that someone would come tomorrow at 10.00 AM. They arrived at 5:10 PM and told me (In Italian) that it would take 2 or 3 hours to install the heater and that they would come back domanni. And would I prefer the morning or afternoon. That part I got (with some sign language) So maybe tomorrow, we will have acqu calda after 7 days in the apartment.... Here is hoping and waiting...
Meanwhile, we have been bathing by heating up all the water we can on now the 4!!! burners we have working (thanks to Le Gas). Oy, what a production.
Time here has been spent doing laundry, cooking and cleaning. And watching Italian MTV.
Julia met some neighbor girls today and played with them for a few hours. They were very sweet with us and tried to speak English with us. They brought out their dictionaries and notebooks to help. Julia Ed and Aidan ended up playing hide and seek with them.
I sent Colin and Aidan out this morning to investigate the small shopping center at the bottom of the hill. They found this internet cafe HOORAY!!! Colin didn't get to come with me tonight because he forgot to put deoderant on this AM. Trust me. I needed to get the deoderant point accross and this was the most severe way I could think of. I hope he does not ever forget again. You cannot possibly imagine the difficulty of laundry here, and the lack of deoderant wearing teenagers compounds it...
So I will post just a bit. They are going to kick me out soon. It's almost closing time. Keep those emails coming people. They really help me feel connected.
Ciao Ciao,
Please pray for the hot water heater to work tomorrow. Pray that Mauroizio and Antonio know what they heck they are doing.
Joelle
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