Yup. Since I'm no longer in Europe, this little newsfeed of Italian updates must come to an end. Before I sign off, though-
I spent a few days in Paris and Dublin before flying back to Boston! In general, I really feel like:
a) Milan's people are beautiful- everyone dresses well
b) Paris' city is beautiful- the buildings, the layout, the transportation: all immaculate
c) Dublin's the city of good times
People in Dublin were kind of perpetually drunk, and after dealing with the weather for just 2 days, I can't say I wouldn't want to be either. It's chilly, grey and rainy... all the time. But people have pints on their lunch break and constantly are singing in the pubs along with live musicians. Obviously some people take it a little too far (Ireland's got a pretty bad rep for alcoholism) but after I made friends with a few Canadians, we had a great time.
Paris was full of gorgeous, intricate architecture and was surprisingly clean. I would've thought a city that size would have trouble with upkeep, but the city was spotless. And this city was pretty big. I would look at a map and think I could walk the (seemingly) 3 blocks to get someplace, and wouldn't reach my destination for a half hour. I guess that's why the subway and rail system was so good. The MBTA should take note.
Without an alarm clock, I was insanely nervous that I would miss my flights. Tip: sleep with the shades open. You'll be up by 7am.
Now that I'm back, I'm glad to be away from the peeling tomatoes and baby bottles for 6 year olds and constant tantrums, but I want more days off to go exploring. This has been an eye-opening and lush and aggravating and peaceful and horrible and wonderful experience. I don't regret it at all, and believe it or not, I'd consider doing it again.
But I might ask if the children can wipe their own butts before I commit.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
How Else To Tell If Your Child is a Little Shit:
...he constantly calls his father "brutto ciccione," which basically means "ugly fatty."
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Last Friday Night...
...wasn't as exciting as a Katy Perry song, but for this family it seemed to be. There was a thunderstorm, complete with lightening, hail and torrential downpours, that opened up over Monza last night. And while a hearty New Englander like myself didn't bat an eye when the power went out, these people were excited. I mean taking-pictures-of-the-flooding-streets excited.
I guess they don't get weather like this a lot, and the city's drain systems don't seem to be built for it, which is why the streets overflowed, I think. And with a storm like that, thus begins my transition back to New England.
One more day in this place. I literally wasn't sure this morning as the twins refused to eat and get dressed (yet again) if I could make it that long without strangling one of them. Everyone cross your fingers that we all make it out alive!
I guess they don't get weather like this a lot, and the city's drain systems don't seem to be built for it, which is why the streets overflowed, I think. And with a storm like that, thus begins my transition back to New England.
One more day in this place. I literally wasn't sure this morning as the twins refused to eat and get dressed (yet again) if I could make it that long without strangling one of them. Everyone cross your fingers that we all make it out alive!
Friday, August 5, 2011
Ah Venice!
A trip to northern Italy wouldn't be complete without this city. Partly because it's so unique, partly because it'll be gone soon- I read that it's sinking slowly into the ocean. (So much so that next month, the city is going to start charging a tourist tax to collect money to stave off the water.)
When my host family asked about my trip the night before, Giulia piped up and begged me to take her with me. I lamely tried to give excuses about departing at 6:30am and biking for a half hour to the subway stop, but she didn't care. Honestly, I like exploring alone, and I didn't really feel like being responsible for another person, but Giulia was not to be deterred. So we became Venetian travel buddies.
Strolling around Venice is like strolling around a movie set. It does not seem like anything around you is real, even if you stick your hand into the water. There are no cars, no bikes, just boats and people walking everywhere. It's amazing and completely unlike anything I've ever seen before.
The people are incredibly nice too. Well, the biggest industry in the city is tourism, so obviously they have to be nice, but it's crazy how they can stay so cheerful in streets that are packed with people with cameras and uncomely American accents.
Giulia and I did a bunch of the touristy things: we checked out the Piazza San Marco, the fabulously ornate Basilica, rode to the top of the Campanille to see the cityscape, poked around the Rialto Market and admired the views from the steps of the Palazzo Ducale. We also tried to get lost away from the crowds (very easy to get lost there) and discovered this little shop in a deserted street called La Fenice. It looked like Mr. Olivander's shop fom Harry Potter (maybe a little brighter) with leather bound books and wax seal stamps and masques instead of wands. And- believe it- la fenice in Italian means... the phoenix AKA Dumbledore's trusty pet. And to top it all off, there was another shop with a masque of Potter himself.
So there's no doubt that Venice is a magical city. Getting lost in the maze of streets was one of the best parts about our day trip. And a Venetian gondola ride? Psh, we didn't even think about it- the standard price is 85 euros. We heard some gondolier offering a "cheap discount" to a skeptical tourist of 65 euros. Are you kidding? Take the Vaporetto (basically a water bus) for 2 euros and see the entire city on the Grand Canal.
No more days off in Italy. :( I've got 2 days left here, then I'm off to Paris and Dublin!
When my host family asked about my trip the night before, Giulia piped up and begged me to take her with me. I lamely tried to give excuses about departing at 6:30am and biking for a half hour to the subway stop, but she didn't care. Honestly, I like exploring alone, and I didn't really feel like being responsible for another person, but Giulia was not to be deterred. So we became Venetian travel buddies.
Strolling around Venice is like strolling around a movie set. It does not seem like anything around you is real, even if you stick your hand into the water. There are no cars, no bikes, just boats and people walking everywhere. It's amazing and completely unlike anything I've ever seen before.
The people are incredibly nice too. Well, the biggest industry in the city is tourism, so obviously they have to be nice, but it's crazy how they can stay so cheerful in streets that are packed with people with cameras and uncomely American accents.
Giulia and I did a bunch of the touristy things: we checked out the Piazza San Marco, the fabulously ornate Basilica, rode to the top of the Campanille to see the cityscape, poked around the Rialto Market and admired the views from the steps of the Palazzo Ducale. We also tried to get lost away from the crowds (very easy to get lost there) and discovered this little shop in a deserted street called La Fenice. It looked like Mr. Olivander's shop fom Harry Potter (maybe a little brighter) with leather bound books and wax seal stamps and masques instead of wands. And- believe it- la fenice in Italian means... the phoenix AKA Dumbledore's trusty pet. And to top it all off, there was another shop with a masque of Potter himself.
So there's no doubt that Venice is a magical city. Getting lost in the maze of streets was one of the best parts about our day trip. And a Venetian gondola ride? Psh, we didn't even think about it- the standard price is 85 euros. We heard some gondolier offering a "cheap discount" to a skeptical tourist of 65 euros. Are you kidding? Take the Vaporetto (basically a water bus) for 2 euros and see the entire city on the Grand Canal.
No more days off in Italy. :( I've got 2 days left here, then I'm off to Paris and Dublin!
Things I Forgot to Post:
-About every 5th car here is a SmartCar.
-Getting dressed and ready in the morning for the twins includes more steps than I do in about 3 mornings.
-I'll be glad to get back to the US where men wear extremely tight pants less frequently.
-Getting dressed and ready in the morning for the twins includes more steps than I do in about 3 mornings.
-I'll be glad to get back to the US where men wear extremely tight pants less frequently.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Weight A Minute...
SO remember how my host mom has been telling poor Giulia that she needs to lose a few kilos?
Yesterday, the topic came up again while Giulia and Alfonso and I were on a bikeride. Giulia explained that her mother told her she was "getting obese," so I asked her if we could figure out the conversion from kilos into pounds so I could get a better picture of what that meant.
Giulia is 162cm and 55kg. That's about 5'4" and 122 lbs. Which is almost exactly my height and weight.
So I assured Giulia that she shouldn't worry, because we're apparently getting obese together.
Yesterday, the topic came up again while Giulia and Alfonso and I were on a bikeride. Giulia explained that her mother told her she was "getting obese," so I asked her if we could figure out the conversion from kilos into pounds so I could get a better picture of what that meant.
Giulia is 162cm and 55kg. That's about 5'4" and 122 lbs. Which is almost exactly my height and weight.
So I assured Giulia that she shouldn't worry, because we're apparently getting obese together.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
WHY CAN'T YOU BE LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME.
I would've asked if he'd been high on something if he wasn't six and could understand me, but Alfonso tonight helped me cook dinner. Seriously. He insisted that he help with the entire thing and kept asking for jobs to do. Whaaaat?
So I let him stir the vegetables and put salt and pepper on the fish and flip them in the pan...
before he asked if he could do anything else.
Then after dinner? HE ASKED IF HE COULD MAKE THE BOTTLES. This is the most help I have gotten from anyone all summer and it's coming from Alfonso?? The kid that belongs in the innermost circle of hell? Okay that's harsh, but if you could compare tonight's Chef Alfonso with daily Alfonso, you'd see a vast difference too.
Oh sweet mother of God, maybe I'm the one who's gone insane.
So I let him stir the vegetables and put salt and pepper on the fish and flip them in the pan...
before he asked if he could do anything else.
Then after dinner? HE ASKED IF HE COULD MAKE THE BOTTLES. This is the most help I have gotten from anyone all summer and it's coming from Alfonso?? The kid that belongs in the innermost circle of hell? Okay that's harsh, but if you could compare tonight's Chef Alfonso with daily Alfonso, you'd see a vast difference too.
Oh sweet mother of God, maybe I'm the one who's gone insane.
The Countdown Begins.
Less than a week left in Italia, and my job is really grating on my nerves. I love exploring the country, but I'm reallllllly relieved that I won't have to peel anyone's tomatoes or make any more baby bottles or cook and clean for seven people three times a day. A lot of times, this job has been extremely trying, and my dignity has had to be put on hold countless times.
Before getting back to the good old U.S. of A, I'm making a couple pit stops in Paris and Dublin. (Maybe the sight of these two cities on the horizon is why I'm kind of itchin' to get outta here.) In Paris, I bit the bullet and booked a teeny hotel in the business district. I'm pretty sure the Louvre will be closed on my full day there (ugh!) so I might have to scratch it from my list of things to do. But hey- it's Paris. Not like there's nothing else there.
In Dublin, my weeping wallet won over and I booked a hostel in the Temple Bar district on a recommendation. I'm kind of nervous because I'm traveling alone, but not because I'm afraid of getting jumped. My fear is that I won't make any friends and will be the lame kid staying in at night while everyone else goes out to the pubs! Here's hoping my first hostel experience is a good one.
My last day off before my Parisian and Irish adventures is Thursday, and I'm thinking I might do Venice. I haven't decided yet. Though I feel like I could explore for much longer, I do kinda miss the US. Well, I miss being able to understand people. And being able to call and text friends and family. And just basically hanging out with anyone my age!
I've been mingling with bratty 6 year olds and "life-sucks" pre-teens all summer. It's gettin' to me.
Before getting back to the good old U.S. of A, I'm making a couple pit stops in Paris and Dublin. (Maybe the sight of these two cities on the horizon is why I'm kind of itchin' to get outta here.) In Paris, I bit the bullet and booked a teeny hotel in the business district. I'm pretty sure the Louvre will be closed on my full day there (ugh!) so I might have to scratch it from my list of things to do. But hey- it's Paris. Not like there's nothing else there.
In Dublin, my weeping wallet won over and I booked a hostel in the Temple Bar district on a recommendation. I'm kind of nervous because I'm traveling alone, but not because I'm afraid of getting jumped. My fear is that I won't make any friends and will be the lame kid staying in at night while everyone else goes out to the pubs! Here's hoping my first hostel experience is a good one.
My last day off before my Parisian and Irish adventures is Thursday, and I'm thinking I might do Venice. I haven't decided yet. Though I feel like I could explore for much longer, I do kinda miss the US. Well, I miss being able to understand people. And being able to call and text friends and family. And just basically hanging out with anyone my age!
I've been mingling with bratty 6 year olds and "life-sucks" pre-teens all summer. It's gettin' to me.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Verdict on this Weekend:
...manageable. I know, I can't believe it either. Did I dream it?
I have to say, Giulia was a huge help all weekend without even realizing it. When Big Sis is around to follow, the troops fall in line a lot more quietly. I'm glad she's warmed up to me- I don't think I posted about the time at the dinner table early on when she said she hated me. (Both parents took me aside and apologized to me that night, mortified both at the pre-teen angst and because I could understand that much Italian.) But apparently that's old news- yesterday, she even asked if we could watch Glee together.
Now that Alessandra and Guido are back, however, both twins are back to their typical selves. Currently I am listening to Maxi screeching at his mother at a volume level I can only describe as earsplitting. Something about not wanting to pick up his toys.
I'm glad they saved it for their parents' return.
I have to say, Giulia was a huge help all weekend without even realizing it. When Big Sis is around to follow, the troops fall in line a lot more quietly. I'm glad she's warmed up to me- I don't think I posted about the time at the dinner table early on when she said she hated me. (Both parents took me aside and apologized to me that night, mortified both at the pre-teen angst and because I could understand that much Italian.) But apparently that's old news- yesterday, she even asked if we could watch Glee together.
Now that Alessandra and Guido are back, however, both twins are back to their typical selves. Currently I am listening to Maxi screeching at his mother at a volume level I can only describe as earsplitting. Something about not wanting to pick up his toys.
I'm glad they saved it for their parents' return.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Dinner and Dancing...
Hold up- I didn't get asked on a ridiculously romantic date.
A couple pics from our meal-time jamfest:
A couple pics from our meal-time jamfest:
Saturday, July 30, 2011
A Little Pee O'd
For some reason, during the past week, either Maxi or Alfonso has wet their bed every single night. And right on schedule at 5am this morning, Alfonso and his dripping wet pajamas woke me for help. Not sure why this is the week their bladders can't hold out for the night, but I won't complain if I don't have to clean someone's bed before the sun comes up tomorrow.
I mean, who doesn't get pissed being woken that early? Eh, eh?
Sorry for that horrible pun.
I mean, who doesn't get pissed being woken that early? Eh, eh?
Sorry for that horrible pun.
Am I Really Saying This?
So far, the long weekend alone with the twins and Giulia (now half over) is going okay. No tantrums-like-anyone's-on-fire yet, just mild ones. And I can't believe this is coming out of my mouth (from my keyboard?) but we had a dance party at the dinner table tonight, and I had fun. Can you believe it?! Fun.
They really like American music, specifically dance music. On the playlist tonight:
LMFAO "Party Rock Anthem" (their absolute favorite song)
Katy Perry "Last Friday Night"
Jason DeRulo "Don't Wanna Go Home"
Alexandra Stan "Mr. Saxobeat"
Britney Spears "Til the World Ends"
Pit Bull ft. Ne-Yo "Give Me Everything"
I'm hoping this doesn't jinx me. Who am I kidding- it probably will. I mean, they went to bed without a tantrum tonight. Something rough's gotta be in store for me tomorrow. Come on karma, hold out!
They really like American music, specifically dance music. On the playlist tonight:
LMFAO "Party Rock Anthem" (their absolute favorite song)
Katy Perry "Last Friday Night"
Jason DeRulo "Don't Wanna Go Home"
Alexandra Stan "Mr. Saxobeat"
Britney Spears "Til the World Ends"
Pit Bull ft. Ne-Yo "Give Me Everything"
I'm hoping this doesn't jinx me. Who am I kidding- it probably will. I mean, they went to bed without a tantrum tonight. Something rough's gotta be in store for me tomorrow. Come on karma, hold out!
Friday, July 29, 2011
Ideas?
I've been asked to cook a typical American dish before I leave my host family next week. However, this family uses their oven as storage... so I can't use an oven. (Otherwise I would've baked chocolate chip cookies by now.)
We eat pretty Westernized food a lot anyways (hamburgers, breaded chicken pieces, etc) but what's a super American dish (that isn't ew, American) I can make?
We eat pretty Westernized food a lot anyways (hamburgers, breaded chicken pieces, etc) but what's a super American dish (that isn't ew, American) I can make?
Italians...
...have an interesting and conflicting set of views on life. There's a mantra here: "we do the best we can," which is usually applied to things like train strikes and ridiculous traffic and never being on time (and giving up instead of disciplining terrible children.) On the other hand, though, if certain things don't go exactly as Italians want them to go, the world might as well be ending. This applies to things like having certain foods piping hot (not just hot) and wearing certain clothes and running the dishwasher after every meal and daily showers. My brothers are all over the age of 15 and if any of them took more than a weekly shower, the world would actually be ending.
Just kidding. But seriously, this weird dichotomy has been something I've had a hard time getting used to. How can being an hour and a half late to meet your friends for dinner be okay, but not wearing a polo shirt on a five hour car trip be unacceptable?
Just kidding. But seriously, this weird dichotomy has been something I've had a hard time getting used to. How can being an hour and a half late to meet your friends for dinner be okay, but not wearing a polo shirt on a five hour car trip be unacceptable?
When Friends Tell You At Dinner That Your Kids Are Spoiled...
... you should really take a hint, don'tcha think?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Can I Get Some Foccacia With This iPad?
Last week, Guido remarked at dinner that I had enjoyed all this high-quality Provencal food, but I hadn't really enjoyed truly high-quality Italian food. He decided I must have some in order to make a comparison of the two cultures, and made a reservation for this week immediately.
My first thought: sweet!
My second thought: wait, so I haven't been eating good food for the past 7 weeks? How is that possible...
So tonight, Guido and Alessandra and I are dining at Il Marchesino, the restaurant under La Scala Opera House. Apparently it's very famous. (I'm an American gastronomic imbecile, though, so I've never heard of it.) They've arranged for a babysitter and everything!
I've been told the menu is on an iPad. Now that is the harbinger of a fine dining experience. Right?
My first thought: sweet!
My second thought: wait, so I haven't been eating good food for the past 7 weeks? How is that possible...
So tonight, Guido and Alessandra and I are dining at Il Marchesino, the restaurant under La Scala Opera House. Apparently it's very famous. (I'm an American gastronomic imbecile, though, so I've never heard of it.) They've arranged for a babysitter and everything!
I've been told the menu is on an iPad. Now that is the harbinger of a fine dining experience. Right?
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
On Nono To The Rescue and Lorenzo
Before leaving me for four days with the twins this weekend, my host parents needed to leave me alone today as well, as they were going to Bormio to inspect the house they were having made. (Uhh, yeah...)
Waking up this morning, I wearily rubbed my eyes and prayed to make it through the day. But as I was setting out breakfast, Alessandra informed me that their grandfather would be taking them for the day. I thought I was still dreaming. Best news ever!
Nono was very nice. A little on the shaky side (not sure he should be driving...) but very calm and genuine.
After lunch, Giulia told me she was going out to the city center to buy a pair of earrings. Since we had hung out all morning, and it seemed she wanted to go by herself, I told her I'd meet her back at the apartment at 5pm. I decided to lay out a blanket and read in the field by the Villa Reale, and as I was biking through the park, spotted: Giulia and a BOY strolling down the path. Bow chicka wow wow.
I turned around to give them their privacy, but I ran into them on the way back too! I wasn't exactly introduced to good ol' Lorenzo, but at least Giulia wasn't so mortified that she ignored me. We chatted for a sec and when she got back home, she told me a very nice story about running into her little Italian Stallion on the way to the center.
Which is in completely the opposite direction of the park.
Waking up this morning, I wearily rubbed my eyes and prayed to make it through the day. But as I was setting out breakfast, Alessandra informed me that their grandfather would be taking them for the day. I thought I was still dreaming. Best news ever!
Nono was very nice. A little on the shaky side (not sure he should be driving...) but very calm and genuine.
After lunch, Giulia told me she was going out to the city center to buy a pair of earrings. Since we had hung out all morning, and it seemed she wanted to go by herself, I told her I'd meet her back at the apartment at 5pm. I decided to lay out a blanket and read in the field by the Villa Reale, and as I was biking through the park, spotted: Giulia and a BOY strolling down the path. Bow chicka wow wow.
I turned around to give them their privacy, but I ran into them on the way back too! I wasn't exactly introduced to good ol' Lorenzo, but at least Giulia wasn't so mortified that she ignored me. We chatted for a sec and when she got back home, she told me a very nice story about running into her little Italian Stallion on the way to the center.
Which is in completely the opposite direction of the park.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Second Time's the Charm!
No train strike yesterday! So I made it the long trek to the western coast of Italy to do the Cinque Terre hike.
The whole thing is split into 4 stages, and I decided to go north to south and get the longer ones over first. Thank god I did, because on the first stage between Monterosso and Vernazza, I sweat probably a gallon and a half and it wasn't even that hot out. That first stage was supposed to be the hardest, but I didn't think it would be bad- I mean, it's only about 4km.
Uh, it's 4km of steep (and I mean steep) stairs.
By Vernazza, I'm ashamed to say my muscles were shaking. Here I am thinking that running all summer has kept me in shape, and I get beat by a 4km hike! But after a foccacia, a large water and a long sit by the marina, I had psyched myself back up to make the trek to Corniglia, another 3.5km.
The rest of the hike was nowhere near as tiring as that first stage, and the stage from Corniglia to Manarola was closed for repairs, so I got a little respite on the train to Manarola. The entire hike was amazing, though- it's right on the vibrantly blue sea, built into the mountains with terraces of grape and olive and apricot crops surrounding the trail. The path sometimes is only wide enough for one person, and often the only thing between you and a drop to your death is a creaky wooden hand rail. Smooth wind rolls in off the ocean and the sounds of the waves put anything on your ipod to shame.
I found myself smiling the entire day, and I realize that I didn't even think about anything that usually bothers me when I have time alone. It was just a full day of a nice breeze, a slight tan, grins and puppies and silly foreign kids and blue blue ocean and mountains and dumb people in flip flops (seriously.) A completely enoyable day. The only thing I wish I had time for was a swim, which I had to cut out of my trip if I wanted to do the hike and wander in each village a little, but that's okay. Still perfect.
My favorite village of the Cinque Terre- Vernazza ^
The whole thing is split into 4 stages, and I decided to go north to south and get the longer ones over first. Thank god I did, because on the first stage between Monterosso and Vernazza, I sweat probably a gallon and a half and it wasn't even that hot out. That first stage was supposed to be the hardest, but I didn't think it would be bad- I mean, it's only about 4km.
Uh, it's 4km of steep (and I mean steep) stairs.
By Vernazza, I'm ashamed to say my muscles were shaking. Here I am thinking that running all summer has kept me in shape, and I get beat by a 4km hike! But after a foccacia, a large water and a long sit by the marina, I had psyched myself back up to make the trek to Corniglia, another 3.5km.
The rest of the hike was nowhere near as tiring as that first stage, and the stage from Corniglia to Manarola was closed for repairs, so I got a little respite on the train to Manarola. The entire hike was amazing, though- it's right on the vibrantly blue sea, built into the mountains with terraces of grape and olive and apricot crops surrounding the trail. The path sometimes is only wide enough for one person, and often the only thing between you and a drop to your death is a creaky wooden hand rail. Smooth wind rolls in off the ocean and the sounds of the waves put anything on your ipod to shame.
I found myself smiling the entire day, and I realize that I didn't even think about anything that usually bothers me when I have time alone. It was just a full day of a nice breeze, a slight tan, grins and puppies and silly foreign kids and blue blue ocean and mountains and dumb people in flip flops (seriously.) A completely enoyable day. The only thing I wish I had time for was a swim, which I had to cut out of my trip if I wanted to do the hike and wander in each village a little, but that's okay. Still perfect.
Don't Be Fooled...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Will I Survive?
Next weekend, Alessandra and Guido are going away and leaving me at the apartment all weekend long with Giulia and the twins.
Oh. My. God. Help.
So far, there is no hint that we will be doing anything special by ourselves, so we'll be shut up in the apartment for 3.5 days with nothing to do. And without any form of punishment when the parents are here, I'm sure I will have absolutely no control over the twins the entire weekend.
If no one hears from me after next Monday, I may have killed myself.
Or, I may be in hiding, as I may have killed the twins.
Oh. My. God. Help.
So far, there is no hint that we will be doing anything special by ourselves, so we'll be shut up in the apartment for 3.5 days with nothing to do. And without any form of punishment when the parents are here, I'm sure I will have absolutely no control over the twins the entire weekend.
If no one hears from me after next Monday, I may have killed myself.
Or, I may be in hiding, as I may have killed the twins.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
More Weighty Issues and a Taste of Her Own Medicine.
This morning, Alessandra informed me after I had made everyone's breakfast that "Giulia is making some changes in her eating habits." Uh oh.
Apparently, Mom has decided that her daughter is going on a diet because she- and I quote- "is getting too heavy." So instead of an extra scoop of Nesquik in her chocolate milk, a Kinder Delice (read= chocolate covered cake), fruit and Krave (read=chocolate crunch cereal), I have been instructed to set out toast with jam, cereal and fruit. So... normal breakfast...
I was half afraid she was going to limit her to half a peach or dry toast, but I think what I consider "normal" breakfast seems abnormal to them. Everyone else is still eating cookies and cakes.
Sidetrack: Alessandra also just told me she is "still tired from yesterday" and that she missed having me around to help. UH okay, soooo yesterday you dealt with your devil children and did everything I do six days a week... tell me you're tired again. I might slap you.
Apparently, Mom has decided that her daughter is going on a diet because she- and I quote- "is getting too heavy." So instead of an extra scoop of Nesquik in her chocolate milk, a Kinder Delice (read= chocolate covered cake), fruit and Krave (read=chocolate crunch cereal), I have been instructed to set out toast with jam, cereal and fruit. So... normal breakfast...
I was half afraid she was going to limit her to half a peach or dry toast, but I think what I consider "normal" breakfast seems abnormal to them. Everyone else is still eating cookies and cakes.
Sidetrack: Alessandra also just told me she is "still tired from yesterday" and that she missed having me around to help. UH okay, soooo yesterday you dealt with your devil children and did everything I do six days a week... tell me you're tired again. I might slap you.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Italians...
...have seriously delicious rest stop restaurants. I mean, they're not high-end establishments, obviously, but the quality of the Autogrills we've stopped at since I've been here have been 17x better than any Mickey D's on an American road trip.
Bummer!
Italy is prone to strikes from it's public transportation systems. This week there was a bus strike, so the housekeeper couldn't get home, but I didn't think much of it. Shoulda' realized I couldn't avoid the strikes forever.
Today I had a day off (respite from almost a 2 week work stretch!) and I booked an early train to get to the Cinque Terre by 11am to hike all day. Waking at 6am, I rode my bike to the subway, took it into Milan, got to the train station and found the departures board covered in blinking red cancelatos. GAH.
At least I still have a couple more days off to fit in the hike- I realllllllly want to do it before I leave. But the day wasn't totally wasted: I did a little more shopping (eek) and saw Harry Potter, albeit in Italian. I understood about 7% of the dialogue (it's dubbed over here.)
For next week's day off, I'm checking online before I leave the apartment at the crack of dawn to see if there's another strike.
Today I had a day off (respite from almost a 2 week work stretch!) and I booked an early train to get to the Cinque Terre by 11am to hike all day. Waking at 6am, I rode my bike to the subway, took it into Milan, got to the train station and found the departures board covered in blinking red cancelatos. GAH.
At least I still have a couple more days off to fit in the hike- I realllllllly want to do it before I leave. But the day wasn't totally wasted: I did a little more shopping (eek) and saw Harry Potter, albeit in Italian. I understood about 7% of the dialogue (it's dubbed over here.)
For next week's day off, I'm checking online before I leave the apartment at the crack of dawn to see if there's another strike.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
A Bit of a Heavy Situation
My host mom is not afraid to comment to me or tell her daughter Giulia to her face that she is fat. It's happened multiple times now, and though I think it's just the way Italians are, it's kinda harsh.
In Giulia's presence, Alessandra has said the following (or a variation):
"Giulia needs to lose a few kilos."
"I'm laughing because Giulia has big thighs."
"Giulia you're getting heavy. She needs to eat less cakes."
...and that's just this past week.
I usually try to insist that she's fine the way she is, but not even my "You've never been to an American beach, have you" quip could deter the comments this weekend. Giulia looks like a normal-sized (maybe a little tall) 13 year old girl. Is it just the Italian way of thinking, this bluntness? Am I a weak-minded American for thinking it's a little severe?
In Giulia's presence, Alessandra has said the following (or a variation):
"Giulia needs to lose a few kilos."
"I'm laughing because Giulia has big thighs."
"Giulia you're getting heavy. She needs to eat less cakes."
...and that's just this past week.
I usually try to insist that she's fine the way she is, but not even my "You've never been to an American beach, have you" quip could deter the comments this weekend. Giulia looks like a normal-sized (maybe a little tall) 13 year old girl. Is it just the Italian way of thinking, this bluntness? Am I a weak-minded American for thinking it's a little severe?
Believe It-
the Olive Garden actually serves a dish that is close to true Italian cuisine!!
A few weeks before I left for Europe, my mom and brothers and I met at the OG for lunch one day. (Should I be ashamed to say that?) After a decidedly mediocre lunch, we picked a dessert to share and were delightfully surprised at the quality of our zeppoli.
Last night, after consuming an entire pizza, I realized I'm already coming back 10 pounds heavier, so I smiled and accepted a dessert menu. I ordered the Calde Calde, understanding about half of the description (per usual) but content with the recognition of cioccolato. The waiter kindly brought me the zeppoli with a drizzle of Nutella sauce, and- my god- I can die happy now.
But really, if I remember correctly, our friendly neighborhood "Italian" restaurant's zeppoli measured up pretty well to the dolce-deliciousness I had last night. Props, Olive Garden.
A few weeks before I left for Europe, my mom and brothers and I met at the OG for lunch one day. (Should I be ashamed to say that?) After a decidedly mediocre lunch, we picked a dessert to share and were delightfully surprised at the quality of our zeppoli.
Last night, after consuming an entire pizza, I realized I'm already coming back 10 pounds heavier, so I smiled and accepted a dessert menu. I ordered the Calde Calde, understanding about half of the description (per usual) but content with the recognition of cioccolato. The waiter kindly brought me the zeppoli with a drizzle of Nutella sauce, and- my god- I can die happy now.
But really, if I remember correctly, our friendly neighborhood "Italian" restaurant's zeppoli measured up pretty well to the dolce-deliciousness I had last night. Props, Olive Garden.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Guess What-
Italian waterparks only play music in English. What's up with that?
A sample of the tunes from our trip to Le Vele Aqua Parc:
Jumpin Jack Flash- The Rolling Stones
Big Love- Fleetwood Mac
We Are the Champions- Queen
Hot and Cold- Katy Perry
Home- Michael Buble
A sample of the tunes from our trip to Le Vele Aqua Parc:
Jumpin Jack Flash- The Rolling Stones
Big Love- Fleetwood Mac
We Are the Champions- Queen
Hot and Cold- Katy Perry
Home- Michael Buble
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
View From Our Room at the Chateau de Berne
I Think Getting My Own Bed Made the Difference
This weekend away with my Italian fam was definitely better than the excruciating weekend we spent in Pesaro. I think it helped that the kids were split up into two rooms, and that there were things to do at the hotel. It also didn't hurt that the parents didn't have any friends nearby that they could visit, so they spent most of the weekend close by, able to handle all the tantrums.
We spent hours at the pool, on the tennis courts, in the ping pong room and on the dining terrace (Provencal lunches and dinners are minimum 2 hours.) It was actually relaxing, and the hotel staff was extremely nice. I got to practice a little bit of French (tres mal) and tried different house wines with every meal. If you need a recommendation on a Provencal getaway- Chateau de Berne is perfection.
Marie Christine and Daniel, the kids' godparents, live in a house built into the side of one of the hills in Vence, near Nice, and they welcomed us for lunch and a swim on the day we were travelling back to Monza. They had an outdoor kitchen with a brick oven and a pool wedged into the hill with a spectacular view of everything from there to the sea. They served the traditional pissaladiere- a pizza-like flatbread with browned onions, olives and a paste made from sardines and anchovies. Don't make that face- it was amazing. Their little dog was named Phillipe, and he followed Daniel around whenever he moved. He also took a liking to me: I was the only visitor who received kisses. It made me miss Roxie :( haha.
I still can't say that the twins aren't fiendish brats, but all in all, the weekend was certainement agreable.
We spent hours at the pool, on the tennis courts, in the ping pong room and on the dining terrace (Provencal lunches and dinners are minimum 2 hours.) It was actually relaxing, and the hotel staff was extremely nice. I got to practice a little bit of French (tres mal) and tried different house wines with every meal. If you need a recommendation on a Provencal getaway- Chateau de Berne is perfection.
Marie Christine and Daniel, the kids' godparents, live in a house built into the side of one of the hills in Vence, near Nice, and they welcomed us for lunch and a swim on the day we were travelling back to Monza. They had an outdoor kitchen with a brick oven and a pool wedged into the hill with a spectacular view of everything from there to the sea. They served the traditional pissaladiere- a pizza-like flatbread with browned onions, olives and a paste made from sardines and anchovies. Don't make that face- it was amazing. Their little dog was named Phillipe, and he followed Daniel around whenever he moved. He also took a liking to me: I was the only visitor who received kisses. It made me miss Roxie :( haha.
I still can't say that the twins aren't fiendish brats, but all in all, the weekend was certainement agreable.
Italians...
...(and the French) actually obey that unwritten rule of the road where from left lanes to right lanes your speed is fast to slow. In fact, it's not unwritten here: it's posted what your speed should be in each lane. There are signs showing all three lanes marked with a speed in km/hr, and even if you're trying to pass on the left, if a car behind you seems to be going faster, most people will move back into their travel lane to let others speed by.
En Provence/On Provence
I wish I could capture this part of France and bottle it. We stayed from Friday-Sunday at the Chateau de Berne, and on Monday we visited the kids' godparents in Vence, which is close to Nice, and took a stroll through St. Paul, which is a village founded as early as the 9th century. The thin cobbled streets were just wide enough for perhaps 4 people to fit across, and the medieval buildings were still magnificently intact, while dozens of art galleries call the lower levels home.
But Provence, ah Provence! The weather is warm without being suffocatingly hot, always breezy. The summer sun is always strong and the sweet shade is always comfortable. Air always fresh with olives and grape crops and love and easy living. Lots of hills. All picturesque drives.
Getting there, you drive over dozens of bridges hundreds of feet above ground, peeking into the windows of the towns built into the sides of huge hills. You race through dozens of tunnels that burrow through the little mountains and spit you out the other side to scope out another village in the valley far below.
The food is always so flavorful, yet light and filling. Always at least four courses. Many times fish. Always local. Always olives and wine. I wish I could eat this lamb and polenta that I had the first night for every meal. Or that turbot fillet. (I think I can do without more foie gras, though. I don't care if it's a "delicacy.")
Mmmm orange trees, macaroons, gold faucets, blazing colorless vibrant eyes on the pool boy, sumptuous streets in St. Paul, kisses from the little dog named Phillipe (what other name for a French pup?), oils and creams and smiles and aubergine and herbed butters and L'After Eights.
Delicious.
But Provence, ah Provence! The weather is warm without being suffocatingly hot, always breezy. The summer sun is always strong and the sweet shade is always comfortable. Air always fresh with olives and grape crops and love and easy living. Lots of hills. All picturesque drives.
Getting there, you drive over dozens of bridges hundreds of feet above ground, peeking into the windows of the towns built into the sides of huge hills. You race through dozens of tunnels that burrow through the little mountains and spit you out the other side to scope out another village in the valley far below.
The food is always so flavorful, yet light and filling. Always at least four courses. Many times fish. Always local. Always olives and wine. I wish I could eat this lamb and polenta that I had the first night for every meal. Or that turbot fillet. (I think I can do without more foie gras, though. I don't care if it's a "delicacy.")
Mmmm orange trees, macaroons, gold faucets, blazing colorless vibrant eyes on the pool boy, sumptuous streets in St. Paul, kisses from the little dog named Phillipe (what other name for a French pup?), oils and creams and smiles and aubergine and herbed butters and L'After Eights.
Delicious.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Low Points.
-The twins do not dress or bathe themselves. -The twins do not feed themselves.
-The twins get baby bottles full of baby milk at bedtime.
-The twins do not wipe their own butts after they go #2.
-The twins are almost 7 years old.
-Tantrums are an acceptable form of expressing yourself in this family. Daily.
-Sometimes, the 12 year old boy needs his food cut up/fed to him.
-None of the children can pack their backpacks or suitcases. Not even the 13 year old girl.
Yes, this is a fabulous experience,
but there are times when I have to remind myself of this.
-The twins get baby bottles full of baby milk at bedtime.
-The twins do not wipe their own butts after they go #2.
-The twins are almost 7 years old.
-Tantrums are an acceptable form of expressing yourself in this family. Daily.
-Sometimes, the 12 year old boy needs his food cut up/fed to him.
-None of the children can pack their backpacks or suitcases. Not even the 13 year old girl.
Yes, this is a fabulous experience,
but there are times when I have to remind myself of this.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Fun Fact...
Monday, July 11, 2011
Swiss Cheese
Kind of ugly ducklings in this pic, but when you put them on, they're sooo comfy and cute.
Hey, Big Spender
Last time I went into Milan, I kind of didn't have time for the Quadilatero d'Oro or any of the famed shopping in the city. Since I couldn't get a ticket for a Cinque Terre hike on short notice, I decided today to go back.
If you don't know, the Quadrilatero d'Oro (or Rectangle of Gold) is a section of Milan cornered off by four streets that dozens of high-end stores and boutiques call home. Gucci, Ferragamo, Dolce & Gabbana, Rolex, Louis Vuitton, and Prada set up shop here, and each store has a well-dressed man in black tie to open the door for customers. The window displays are simple yet decadent- but let's face it, if they're Roberto Cavalli heels, they stand on their own. No pun intended.
I did mostly window shopping in the Quadrilatero d'Oro. I'll be honest, I was intimidated that everyone inside was wearing sunglasses that cost at least twice my entire outfit. (At the Paul and Shark store, all of their shirts said Rhode Island on them! Weird, but I still wouldn't go inside.) I rounded the corner and hit up some of the less account-draining stores.
There are a bunch of outlet shops that offer some big names at even half or more off the regular prices. Beware, though: this doesn't mean "not expensive." To complete my Milan shopping experience, I did (oh yes, I did) purchase a pair of Italian shoes at one of the outlets! I had tried them on earlier in the day, and these things fit perfectly and were so comfortable for heels, but at 175 euros, I hesitated. In fact, I hid them under a chair in the store (oops) and told myself if no one finds these by 6pm, it's a sign.
Well even with a sign at the end of the day, I still winced paying for these 50% off suckers. My grandfather says they last forever. (They better.) But hey, now I can say that I own Italian shoes from Milan! Fancy.
If you don't know, the Quadrilatero d'Oro (or Rectangle of Gold) is a section of Milan cornered off by four streets that dozens of high-end stores and boutiques call home. Gucci, Ferragamo, Dolce & Gabbana, Rolex, Louis Vuitton, and Prada set up shop here, and each store has a well-dressed man in black tie to open the door for customers. The window displays are simple yet decadent- but let's face it, if they're Roberto Cavalli heels, they stand on their own. No pun intended.
I did mostly window shopping in the Quadrilatero d'Oro. I'll be honest, I was intimidated that everyone inside was wearing sunglasses that cost at least twice my entire outfit. (At the Paul and Shark store, all of their shirts said Rhode Island on them! Weird, but I still wouldn't go inside.) I rounded the corner and hit up some of the less account-draining stores.
There are a bunch of outlet shops that offer some big names at even half or more off the regular prices. Beware, though: this doesn't mean "not expensive." To complete my Milan shopping experience, I did (oh yes, I did) purchase a pair of Italian shoes at one of the outlets! I had tried them on earlier in the day, and these things fit perfectly and were so comfortable for heels, but at 175 euros, I hesitated. In fact, I hid them under a chair in the store (oops) and told myself if no one finds these by 6pm, it's a sign.
Well even with a sign at the end of the day, I still winced paying for these 50% off suckers. My grandfather says they last forever. (They better.) But hey, now I can say that I own Italian shoes from Milan! Fancy.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
To Sleep or Not To Sleep.
Okay, so Alessandra told me I get another day off this Monday because the rest of the week is busy, and...
1. she told me this yesterday, so I couldn't get a train ticket to the Cinque Terre (I know, I know- quit complaining that I have to find another way to spend a summer day in northern Italy.)
2. this means that, however happy I am that I have another day off, I won't be getting another one for a looooonnnnng stretch. We're going on another family trip this weekend (I'm praying it won't be as disastrous as the last one) and then who knows what the next week will look like.
A lot of times I'll stay up late because it's the only time I have to myself. I can feel myself getting tired, but even on my days off, I don't like to sleep in because then I lose part of the day to go tooling around. Might just go back to Milan tomorrow (since it doesn't require a few hours of a train ride) so I can sleep in past 7am for the first time since I've arrived. Or maybe I should sleep when I'm dead.
1. she told me this yesterday, so I couldn't get a train ticket to the Cinque Terre (I know, I know- quit complaining that I have to find another way to spend a summer day in northern Italy.)
2. this means that, however happy I am that I have another day off, I won't be getting another one for a looooonnnnng stretch. We're going on another family trip this weekend (I'm praying it won't be as disastrous as the last one) and then who knows what the next week will look like.
A lot of times I'll stay up late because it's the only time I have to myself. I can feel myself getting tired, but even on my days off, I don't like to sleep in because then I lose part of the day to go tooling around. Might just go back to Milan tomorrow (since it doesn't require a few hours of a train ride) so I can sleep in past 7am for the first time since I've arrived. Or maybe I should sleep when I'm dead.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Fake Out!
You can see it really well in this picture because it's so close, but this is an example of one of the many buildings in Genoa that have frescoed facades to trick the eye. The wall is flat- but from farther away, it looks much more majestic with columns and detailing and shutters. Psych!
Um...
My host mother just explained to me that I dressed the twins in clothes that are "too complicated" for today because Alfonso just peed on himself.
They are wearing shorts and a polo shirt.
They are wearing shorts and a polo shirt.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Fun Fact...
...Italians claim that one of their own, a guy named Meucci, invented the telephone.
Alexander Graham Bell (who most Italians have never heard of) is probably rolling over in his grave.
Alexander Graham Bell (who most Italians have never heard of) is probably rolling over in his grave.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Not To Get All 'My Fair Lady' On You, But...
... I could've danced all night.
Before Milena and her friends came to pick me up to go to this Latin American festival, I was kind of nervous. I mean, at first glance, I'd be going to some place unaccessible by public transportation, with a bunch of people I don't know, none of whom speak any of the languages I do, and I had no idea when I'd be getting back home.
So who knew that hardly comprehending a word anyone says all night could be so much fun? Milena's family and friends (there was an entourage of us) are the most welcoming people on the face of the planet. Seriously. If I knew a random foreign chick, I'm not sure I would've asked her to come out with my friends and family, never mind include her completely in the entire night's festivities. I had SO SO much fun, and they were so genuine and happy, how could I not?
We danced all night long. I'm not too shabby with the basic salsa steps (HA) unless you add another person... Andrea, Milena's 17 year old cousin, was convinced he was going to teach me, and he tried (in vain) for a good long while before it hit 2am and we had to leave. It was embarassing to see me trying to let him lead me and not be confident enough to stop staring at his feet haha. Italian (and Latin American, I guess) men actually like to dance- and they're good at it. If I ever have children, they're getting basic dance lessons before they think they don't like it. They'll thank me later.
Before Milena and her friends came to pick me up to go to this Latin American festival, I was kind of nervous. I mean, at first glance, I'd be going to some place unaccessible by public transportation, with a bunch of people I don't know, none of whom speak any of the languages I do, and I had no idea when I'd be getting back home.
So who knew that hardly comprehending a word anyone says all night could be so much fun? Milena's family and friends (there was an entourage of us) are the most welcoming people on the face of the planet. Seriously. If I knew a random foreign chick, I'm not sure I would've asked her to come out with my friends and family, never mind include her completely in the entire night's festivities. I had SO SO much fun, and they were so genuine and happy, how could I not?
We danced all night long. I'm not too shabby with the basic salsa steps (HA) unless you add another person... Andrea, Milena's 17 year old cousin, was convinced he was going to teach me, and he tried (in vain) for a good long while before it hit 2am and we had to leave. It was embarassing to see me trying to let him lead me and not be confident enough to stop staring at his feet haha. Italian (and Latin American, I guess) men actually like to dance- and they're good at it. If I ever have children, they're getting basic dance lessons before they think they don't like it. They'll thank me later.
Quick Thoughts on Genoa
DAY OFF THANK GOD
Anyways, Milena is taking me to a Latin American festival in the city tonight, so I need to get ready, but I spent the better part of today in Genoa! Definitely didn't like it better than Verona, but here's a couple quick thoughts on this city on the water:
-It's a port city, and it embraces it, which is really cool. There are fish shops everywhere near the water, and the port still thrives with life, especially in the morning.
-Another excellent gastronomic advantage: foccacia is Genoa's specialty. There are foccacerias everywhere too, and I'll admit it- I had two lunches because I couldn't just try one slice. AMAZING.
-The city is full of buildings that have frescoes on the sides, but it's not like Verona where the frescoes function mostly as art. In Genoa, the paintings are mostly of... windows... shutters... columns... haha things to trick the eye into seeing a magnificently crafted building, while many Genoan buildings have simply flat facades. Why are they trying to fake everyone out? Wasn't Genoa a super rich city, the center of art and commerce back in the day?
-Totally touched a stingray at the Genoan aquarium. They're kind of slimy, actually.
-The streets are super hilly, super thin and super dark because the buildings are so high they almost block out the sun.
Didn't love it, but certainly enjoyed it, and it was definitely interesting to compare the different feels and unique hum that each city eminates. Also, I kept thinking about the Princess Diaries all day, because the Italian name for the city is Genova, and the country that Julie Andrews is queen of in the movie is Genovia.
Anyways, Milena is taking me to a Latin American festival in the city tonight, so I need to get ready, but I spent the better part of today in Genoa! Definitely didn't like it better than Verona, but here's a couple quick thoughts on this city on the water:
-It's a port city, and it embraces it, which is really cool. There are fish shops everywhere near the water, and the port still thrives with life, especially in the morning.
-Another excellent gastronomic advantage: foccacia is Genoa's specialty. There are foccacerias everywhere too, and I'll admit it- I had two lunches because I couldn't just try one slice. AMAZING.
-The city is full of buildings that have frescoes on the sides, but it's not like Verona where the frescoes function mostly as art. In Genoa, the paintings are mostly of... windows... shutters... columns... haha things to trick the eye into seeing a magnificently crafted building, while many Genoan buildings have simply flat facades. Why are they trying to fake everyone out? Wasn't Genoa a super rich city, the center of art and commerce back in the day?
-Totally touched a stingray at the Genoan aquarium. They're kind of slimy, actually.
-The streets are super hilly, super thin and super dark because the buildings are so high they almost block out the sun.
Didn't love it, but certainly enjoyed it, and it was definitely interesting to compare the different feels and unique hum that each city eminates. Also, I kept thinking about the Princess Diaries all day, because the Italian name for the city is Genova, and the country that Julie Andrews is queen of in the movie is Genovia.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
The Dish on the Mafia, and Other Patriotic Thoughts
Did you know the Mafia was originally formed because southern Italians didn't want to pay taxes and be united under one government? I guess I'm just a dumb American, but I never really knew how the whole thing got started- I just knew what it was. Alessandra told me that even today, northern and southern Italians don't feel like they're part of the same country, and there's a lot of problems with this invisible division, leaving the Mafia very present in southern Italy today.
When Italy became a united republic in the 1800s, the south, which had more subsistence farmland and was more rural, didn't want to pay the taxes that the government imposed on the entire country because they'd never paid taxes before. The Mafia was formed as a kind of criminal governing body in the south, and in some parts, you still have to pay the protection fee if you own a business and don't want it burned down or your family harmed.
She also said that Berlusconi has been trying to pass a law that will force taxpayers' money to be used in the area from which it originated, which is causing major uproar in the south. Northern Italians say that they pay all the taxes, and the south uses them all up, while the south argues that because of it's rural environment and problems (Naples piles trash in the streets) they need the money and are entitled to it because of the unification of the country.
The stories of corruption are ridiculous: families taking in disability and welfare money after a member dies, people forging papers that say they're blind to claim diability, building houses on un-sanctioned land only to have them ordered demolished after taking the buyer's money, the Mafia in general.
Alessandra remarked that she wished the country had a patriotism like the US. Our conversation was sparked by my mentioning the Fourth of July celebrations back home yesterday, and it's funny to think about the differences between Italy and the US. Both countries are extremely critical of their governments and policies and problems, but the dichotomy and marriage of criticism with patriotism is what makes the US so unique, I think. Italy is fabulous, but I can honestly say I'm glad that I'm American (for more reasons than one, but you get the idea...)
When Italy became a united republic in the 1800s, the south, which had more subsistence farmland and was more rural, didn't want to pay the taxes that the government imposed on the entire country because they'd never paid taxes before. The Mafia was formed as a kind of criminal governing body in the south, and in some parts, you still have to pay the protection fee if you own a business and don't want it burned down or your family harmed.
She also said that Berlusconi has been trying to pass a law that will force taxpayers' money to be used in the area from which it originated, which is causing major uproar in the south. Northern Italians say that they pay all the taxes, and the south uses them all up, while the south argues that because of it's rural environment and problems (Naples piles trash in the streets) they need the money and are entitled to it because of the unification of the country.
The stories of corruption are ridiculous: families taking in disability and welfare money after a member dies, people forging papers that say they're blind to claim diability, building houses on un-sanctioned land only to have them ordered demolished after taking the buyer's money, the Mafia in general.
Alessandra remarked that she wished the country had a patriotism like the US. Our conversation was sparked by my mentioning the Fourth of July celebrations back home yesterday, and it's funny to think about the differences between Italy and the US. Both countries are extremely critical of their governments and policies and problems, but the dichotomy and marriage of criticism with patriotism is what makes the US so unique, I think. Italy is fabulous, but I can honestly say I'm glad that I'm American (for more reasons than one, but you get the idea...)
Weekend in Urbino/Hell
This past weekend, the family took a trip to the Italian countryside town of Urbino. Think fields of sunflowers and rolling hills with orange and yellow villas spotting them. It had landscapes from out of dreams, and the place we stayed out was a cute hotel that embraced the countryside feel.
Let me just say, both Alessandra and Guido are some of the nicest people, and they're incredibly generous to bring me along. That being said, I still cannot wrap my head around the disconnect between these extremely nice people and how their children can be such hellions.
I basically was left at the hotel with the twins all weekend long, and they were the most ill-behaved I've ever seen them: throwing food, lighting sugar packets on fire, dumping water on each other in the bathroom, grabbing each others' crotches... and all this at the dinner table in the hotel restaurant. Italians already stare more than Americans, and I was getting full-on dirty looks from the entire place. There was no controlling the monsters, and they were like this all weekend.
On top of this, I had gotten stop-the-car-I'm-going-to-barf-on-your-windows car sick (Italian driving, ugh) on the 7 hour drive there. (Seven hours, let me tell you, is a looong time to be stuck in a mini-van with any six people.) Also, I had to share a room with all four kids and a BED with Alfonso. There was no place to get away: I sat in the hallway after I somehow managed to get the twins to sleep.
As we were leaving, Alessandra asked me how I liked the place, and I replied (wearily) "It's beautiful." She then revealed that we would be coming back in a few weeks... for not 3 days, but 5 days this time. Since we'll be minus one child (Federico is going to camp that week) I'm praying that I can at least get my own bed this time. Maybe that will ease some of the countless types of pain I felt this weekend, and maybe I can stave off a nervous breakdown.
Let me just say, both Alessandra and Guido are some of the nicest people, and they're incredibly generous to bring me along. That being said, I still cannot wrap my head around the disconnect between these extremely nice people and how their children can be such hellions.
I basically was left at the hotel with the twins all weekend long, and they were the most ill-behaved I've ever seen them: throwing food, lighting sugar packets on fire, dumping water on each other in the bathroom, grabbing each others' crotches... and all this at the dinner table in the hotel restaurant. Italians already stare more than Americans, and I was getting full-on dirty looks from the entire place. There was no controlling the monsters, and they were like this all weekend.
On top of this, I had gotten stop-the-car-I'm-going-to-barf-on-your-windows car sick (Italian driving, ugh) on the 7 hour drive there. (Seven hours, let me tell you, is a looong time to be stuck in a mini-van with any six people.) Also, I had to share a room with all four kids and a BED with Alfonso. There was no place to get away: I sat in the hallway after I somehow managed to get the twins to sleep.
As we were leaving, Alessandra asked me how I liked the place, and I replied (wearily) "It's beautiful." She then revealed that we would be coming back in a few weeks... for not 3 days, but 5 days this time. Since we'll be minus one child (Federico is going to camp that week) I'm praying that I can at least get my own bed this time. Maybe that will ease some of the countless types of pain I felt this weekend, and maybe I can stave off a nervous breakdown.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
There Is No World Without Verona Walls
Will Shakes was not kidding when he called it "fair Verona." This little city (where I spent my day off) is just so pretty and happy, and it's charm is only paralleled by it's perfect mix of history and beauty. There's remains of Roman roads exposed underneath the sidewalks. There's a drinking water fountain like a bird feeder for humans in the middle of the street. The tech crew loading in for this weekend's show at the Arena keep giant roses and two-story sphinxes in the piazza, and the villas on the hills watch over the city amongst their tubular trees. As the train nears the Verona Porta Nuova station, the corn fields change slowly into grape crops, and from the window you can see both mountains and a gorgeous lake.
It's a city reveling in it's past, captivated by a famous love story, and celebrating the arts. Although very walkable, I ended up with sunburnt shoulders and my feet hate me right now. It was completely worth it, obviously, even without finding a Romeo.
It's a city reveling in it's past, captivated by a famous love story, and celebrating the arts. Although very walkable, I ended up with sunburnt shoulders and my feet hate me right now. It was completely worth it, obviously, even without finding a Romeo.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Personal Victory
While I was on a run in the park today, somebody stopped me and started asking me about where to rent the bicycles, and I answered them. ALL IN ITALIAN yayyyyyy!
At least, I'm pretty sure that's what they were asking. Whatever, I'm counting it as a personal victory anyways.
At least, I'm pretty sure that's what they were asking. Whatever, I'm counting it as a personal victory anyways.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Pesaro, Breakfast, and Le Cose Belle
So next weekend, the fam (including me) will be taking a weekend trip to Pesaro, which is a seaside town in the northeast. The only thing I'm not looking forward to? Rooming with the twins. Can't wait to deal with all the tantrums and not be able to leave the room.
---
Okay, is it just this family, or is it this country? These people literally eat dessert for breakfast. Seriously. How is this country full of so many rail-thin people? The menu at breakfast:
chocolate chip cookies Kinder Delice bars (basically chocolate cake covered in chocolate)
chocolate milk Nesquik or Honey Pops cereal
vanilla or chocolate chip yogurt chocolate chip muffins
chocolate cake sweet bread with nutella
croissant filled with chocolate blueberry applesauce
All of the above are things I set the breakfast table with every day. I'm the weird one who eats Peach yogurt and Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes with (plain) milk.
---
A few things I love/think are funny about this place (other than cake for breakfast):
<3 bikes bikes bikes
<3 bells from the church floating into the kitchen while I cook dinner
<3 shops closing on Sundays
<3 it's normal for people to bring their dogs into stores
<3 men in suits taking naps on park benches
<3 clothing has writing in English on it, even though lots of people don't speak it
(there was a grammatically incorrect tank top today that said "Came and Turn Me On")
---
Okay, is it just this family, or is it this country? These people literally eat dessert for breakfast. Seriously. How is this country full of so many rail-thin people? The menu at breakfast:
chocolate chip cookies Kinder Delice bars (basically chocolate cake covered in chocolate)
chocolate milk Nesquik or Honey Pops cereal
vanilla or chocolate chip yogurt chocolate chip muffins
chocolate cake sweet bread with nutella
croissant filled with chocolate blueberry applesauce
All of the above are things I set the breakfast table with every day. I'm the weird one who eats Peach yogurt and Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes with (plain) milk.
---
A few things I love/think are funny about this place (other than cake for breakfast):
<3 bikes bikes bikes
<3 bells from the church floating into the kitchen while I cook dinner
<3 shops closing on Sundays
<3 it's normal for people to bring their dogs into stores
<3 men in suits taking naps on park benches
<3 clothing has writing in English on it, even though lots of people don't speak it
(there was a grammatically incorrect tank top today that said "Came and Turn Me On")
Friday, June 24, 2011
Notes on Italian Men
-They're all skinny. I think it's more normal and European, but honestly, most of them aren't much bigger than me.
-They stare. A lot. I assume this is also much more normal here, but I actually have noticed a lot of staring from both women and men. Except from women it's more dirty looks than anything.
-I think this is just my experience, but I've been getting catcalls from old men and young teenagers hahahaha. (Maybe it's because I look 16?)
-Bright pants are "in."
-A moped is a dignified form of transportation for a man in a suit. Who knew?
-The first hot guy I saw here was on my first day when I went to get a phone card. Fabio (real name) was meant to be a Calvin Klein model, and I almost asked him why he was wasting his time working the Vodafone desk. Alas, he was definitely not interested, and I definitely have seen no other hotties since.
-They stare. A lot. I assume this is also much more normal here, but I actually have noticed a lot of staring from both women and men. Except from women it's more dirty looks than anything.
-I think this is just my experience, but I've been getting catcalls from old men and young teenagers hahahaha. (Maybe it's because I look 16?)
-Bright pants are "in."
-A moped is a dignified form of transportation for a man in a suit. Who knew?
-The first hot guy I saw here was on my first day when I went to get a phone card. Fabio (real name) was meant to be a Calvin Klein model, and I almost asked him why he was wasting his time working the Vodafone desk. Alas, he was definitely not interested, and I definitely have seen no other hotties since.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Not So Fun Fact...
...hundreds of cats and dogs are abandoned every summer in Italian cities when people go on holidays. People just don't find care for their pets and leave them to fend for themselves.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
You Spin Me Right Round, Baby...
If you spin your heel in the bull's nether-regions, it's good luck. I had to wait in a crowd of people for my turn to squish the poor guy's parts, and the hole from all the spinning of heels for however many years had left the floor sunken in by a few inches.
Speaking of heels- well, feet in general- I've noticed something. Italians obviously do shoes very well. Except sneakers. (Tennis shoes, whatever you call them.) Italian sneaks are the ugliest things I've ever seen. They look like a volleyball and Skechers Shape Ups had a baby- and those are the Prada ones. A lot of young people opt for American-made Nikes or Converse All-Stars, but most people over the age of 25 can be seen at one time or another in the only type of shoe Italians haven't quite perfected. I think the poor bull is safe from those sneakers, though- the spinning seems to be left to foreigners like me.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Lunch. It Was That Good.
After a typically busy Sunday morning (I don't wanna sound ungrateful but I literally do everything on the weekends) my host mom let me know we were going to lunch in the Monza Park. The park is huge, lush and a mile down the street.
Yes this is an entry about my lunch.
It was that good. Other than my day off, when I got an (obviously) amazing panini and gelato for lunch, I've only really eaten at their home. Not to say that the food hasn't been good- I can't figure out how the fruit and cheese and bread and vegetables can taste that much better- but the family eats more Americanized meals than I thought they would. Case in point: one night for dinner, my host mom laid out... turkey burgers. Hmm.
But anyways, after a sampling of antipasti (seriously, HOW do they get the cheese that delicious over here?) I ordererd a first course of freshly made pasta with tomatoes, asparagus and truffle sauce. When I tell you I would eat this daily for the rest of my life, I am not exaggerating in the least. I almost cried when I finished my plate. Luckily, my second course arrived to dab away my tears. Complemented by a joy of a sparkling white wine, my tuna with balsamic reduction was perfect. And dessert? I don't even know what it was- some fabulous cake that came with strawberries and made me want to go all Julie Andrews on the family and start singing.
I thought before that Panera's Broccoli Cheddar soup was possibly the only food that could change the way my day was going. How ridiculous of me. This wasn't even a high-class restaurant and this food changed the way my life is going. Okay maybe that's going too far... but I'll bet wars could be avoided if people just ate at St. George's Premier once in a while.
Yes this is an entry about my lunch.
It was that good. Other than my day off, when I got an (obviously) amazing panini and gelato for lunch, I've only really eaten at their home. Not to say that the food hasn't been good- I can't figure out how the fruit and cheese and bread and vegetables can taste that much better- but the family eats more Americanized meals than I thought they would. Case in point: one night for dinner, my host mom laid out... turkey burgers. Hmm.
But anyways, after a sampling of antipasti (seriously, HOW do they get the cheese that delicious over here?) I ordererd a first course of freshly made pasta with tomatoes, asparagus and truffle sauce. When I tell you I would eat this daily for the rest of my life, I am not exaggerating in the least. I almost cried when I finished my plate. Luckily, my second course arrived to dab away my tears. Complemented by a joy of a sparkling white wine, my tuna with balsamic reduction was perfect. And dessert? I don't even know what it was- some fabulous cake that came with strawberries and made me want to go all Julie Andrews on the family and start singing.
I thought before that Panera's Broccoli Cheddar soup was possibly the only food that could change the way my day was going. How ridiculous of me. This wasn't even a high-class restaurant and this food changed the way my life is going. Okay maybe that's going too far... but I'll bet wars could be avoided if people just ate at St. George's Premier once in a while.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Fun Fact...
...instead of the Tooth Fairy, Italians have the Tooth Mouse.
Does he leave cheese instead of money?
Does he leave cheese instead of money?
Undies in the Piazza
Yesterday I went for a bike ride into downtown Monza, and there was this open air market going on in one of the piazzas. I locked up the bike and started to walk through. There were hundreds of people- old people, women with strollers, kids, teenagers, men with shoulder bags (can't get used to that, somehow...) and they were all packed in like sardines.
But when I looked around at some of the stuff people were selling, I was a little confused. There were some shoe tables, bags and purses strung about our heads, but also a pots and pans salesman, and multiple underwear stalls.
I'm talking bras and panties hanging like Italian flags from windows. Mens underwear, too. Nothing was packaged, everything was fluttering in the breeze, and people were actually crowding these stalls to buy this stuff. Yes- stallS (plural!) It was pretty weird. And the prices weren't even that great.
But when I looked around at some of the stuff people were selling, I was a little confused. There were some shoe tables, bags and purses strung about our heads, but also a pots and pans salesman, and multiple underwear stalls.
I'm talking bras and panties hanging like Italian flags from windows. Mens underwear, too. Nothing was packaged, everything was fluttering in the breeze, and people were actually crowding these stalls to buy this stuff. Yes- stallS (plural!) It was pretty weird. And the prices weren't even that great.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Week of Peace Comes to a Close.
Tomorrow is Friday, which is the day the twins come back from their school trip to the beach. They've been gone since Monday, and I have to say, life without daily tantrums is prettttttttty great. All good things must come to an end, I guess.
Because the twins have been away, I've had a bit more free time to explore the city. By foot and by bike, I've been getting to know the ins and outs of Monza, and I haven't gone out with a map since Tuesday! Biking as a mode of transportation is a very common practice here, which I LOVE, but honestly, if I hadn't been biking to work back in the US, I would not be able to get used to how close the cars come to you here. Luckily, enough riding to work down Douglas Pike in North Providence has prepped me for Italian cars coming within inches of me- I don't even flinch anymore.
Giulia began her final exams this week- she'll be taking her third written one tomorrow and will have more next week and her oral exams on the 27th. The school system here is different- you have to take a bunch of tests to get out of middle school and into high school, so Giulia and I have been studying every day to prepare.
My host mom, Alessandra, explained that she dislikes the Italian school system actually, because you basically have to decide what you want to do with your life at age 13. After middle school, most high schools are apparently more like vocational schools, and if you want to go to university, you have to attend the right school, not only to get into a university, but for what you possibly may want to study at university. The tests to get out of middle school are also almost irrelevent: they were put in place when school was only mandatory until age 13, but now, with school mandatory until 16, the tests don't hold the purpose of certifying that a student has received a middle school education if they don't choose to continue on. Pretty interesting. Alessandra says she likes the American school system better, but hahahaha she's never had first hand experience I guess. Giulia is going to an American school next year in Switzerland, so she can see for herself.
Because the twins have been away, I've had a bit more free time to explore the city. By foot and by bike, I've been getting to know the ins and outs of Monza, and I haven't gone out with a map since Tuesday! Biking as a mode of transportation is a very common practice here, which I LOVE, but honestly, if I hadn't been biking to work back in the US, I would not be able to get used to how close the cars come to you here. Luckily, enough riding to work down Douglas Pike in North Providence has prepped me for Italian cars coming within inches of me- I don't even flinch anymore.
Giulia began her final exams this week- she'll be taking her third written one tomorrow and will have more next week and her oral exams on the 27th. The school system here is different- you have to take a bunch of tests to get out of middle school and into high school, so Giulia and I have been studying every day to prepare.
My host mom, Alessandra, explained that she dislikes the Italian school system actually, because you basically have to decide what you want to do with your life at age 13. After middle school, most high schools are apparently more like vocational schools, and if you want to go to university, you have to attend the right school, not only to get into a university, but for what you possibly may want to study at university. The tests to get out of middle school are also almost irrelevent: they were put in place when school was only mandatory until age 13, but now, with school mandatory until 16, the tests don't hold the purpose of certifying that a student has received a middle school education if they don't choose to continue on. Pretty interesting. Alessandra says she likes the American school system better, but hahahaha she's never had first hand experience I guess. Giulia is going to an American school next year in Switzerland, so she can see for herself.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Italians...
...asked me for directions twice today! Then became disappointed when all I could mutter was "Uh, non parlo italiano molto bene..."
That Time I Got Kicked Out of the Duomo.
Woops.
For my first day off, I decided to explore the little city we live in, so I took my bike to the historical center of Monza. This section of the city is sooooo beautiful, so Italian, with thin cobbled streets and brightly colored buildings and national flags dangling from the upper apartment windows. The street level is home to zillions of stylish boutiques and gelaterias and little restaurants, while up above people opened ornate shutters to let the mid-morning breeze into their flats.
I locked up my bike and took a stroll around, window shopping and thinking about where to get lunch in a couple hours, and trying to figure out where the Duomo San Giovanni Battisti was. Honestly, I got a pretty good feel for historical downtown Monza. In other words, I got kinda lost.
When I finally did find the Duomo, I peeked in and there was a mass going on, so I decided to come back later to go inside. When I did get to go in, all I could do was look up. The artwork and architecture were pretty magnificent, and I slowly made my way from the back up to where the choir sits, closer to the altar, when a man approached me. He said something to me in Italian, which I hardly understood, then pointed to my shorts and said "No." I apologized and mimed that I would leave, and when I turned back to look up one last time, the guy was glaring after me.
Not thinking, I had worn shorts because of the heat, which is obviously a big no-no if you're going into a place of worship. Silly American. Actually, when I looked around after I was booted from the Duomo, there were probably only about four other people wearing shorts: one of them was a guy and three of them were about 7 years old. Maybe Italian women only wear shorts when it's sweltering out?
Oh well, nothing a little gelato couldn't fix.
For my first day off, I decided to explore the little city we live in, so I took my bike to the historical center of Monza. This section of the city is sooooo beautiful, so Italian, with thin cobbled streets and brightly colored buildings and national flags dangling from the upper apartment windows. The street level is home to zillions of stylish boutiques and gelaterias and little restaurants, while up above people opened ornate shutters to let the mid-morning breeze into their flats.
I locked up my bike and took a stroll around, window shopping and thinking about where to get lunch in a couple hours, and trying to figure out where the Duomo San Giovanni Battisti was. Honestly, I got a pretty good feel for historical downtown Monza. In other words, I got kinda lost.
When I finally did find the Duomo, I peeked in and there was a mass going on, so I decided to come back later to go inside. When I did get to go in, all I could do was look up. The artwork and architecture were pretty magnificent, and I slowly made my way from the back up to where the choir sits, closer to the altar, when a man approached me. He said something to me in Italian, which I hardly understood, then pointed to my shorts and said "No." I apologized and mimed that I would leave, and when I turned back to look up one last time, the guy was glaring after me.
Not thinking, I had worn shorts because of the heat, which is obviously a big no-no if you're going into a place of worship. Silly American. Actually, when I looked around after I was booted from the Duomo, there were probably only about four other people wearing shorts: one of them was a guy and three of them were about 7 years old. Maybe Italian women only wear shorts when it's sweltering out?
Oh well, nothing a little gelato couldn't fix.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
The Villa Reale By Bike
So after I served and cleaned up breakfast and got the twins dressed, (almost no tantrums- great morning!) my host mom, Alessandra, asked if I wanted to go on a bike ride with her. It was the first day without rain, so I agreed, and she took me down the street to the Villa Reale.
The Villa Reale used to be the summer villa for the Austrian and Italian royals in the late 1700s-1900. It was abandoned when King Humbert was murdered there (eek- ghosts in Monza) but now is used for occasional art exhibitions, school grounds for those training at Dolce and Gabbana, and the site of an annual rose competition.
This place is literally 2 blocks from the apartment, and it's like I stepped into a movie. I can't wait to go back a take pictures, but they won't do it justice. It is GORGEOUS and the park that's attached to it is littered with picturesque cottages and lush fields and running rivers so that the guests of the royals could frolic all summer long. Tours were reserved for certain dates, so I could only peak into the grand salon, but seeing the grounds by bike was fabulous.
Speaking of bikes, even on the days when the weather wasn't nice this week, Italians are out on bikes in droves, and I mean droves. Today, hundreds of men in cycling gear were speeding down the roads next to cars (not sure I'll be trying that during my stay...) and dozens more people were biking on the walkway that parallels the street. What is it with Italians and their bikes? Alessandra says cycling is the second most popular sport here, save for football.
Ho una gomma bici bucata.
The Villa Reale used to be the summer villa for the Austrian and Italian royals in the late 1700s-1900. It was abandoned when King Humbert was murdered there (eek- ghosts in Monza) but now is used for occasional art exhibitions, school grounds for those training at Dolce and Gabbana, and the site of an annual rose competition.
This place is literally 2 blocks from the apartment, and it's like I stepped into a movie. I can't wait to go back a take pictures, but they won't do it justice. It is GORGEOUS and the park that's attached to it is littered with picturesque cottages and lush fields and running rivers so that the guests of the royals could frolic all summer long. Tours were reserved for certain dates, so I could only peak into the grand salon, but seeing the grounds by bike was fabulous.
Speaking of bikes, even on the days when the weather wasn't nice this week, Italians are out on bikes in droves, and I mean droves. Today, hundreds of men in cycling gear were speeding down the roads next to cars (not sure I'll be trying that during my stay...) and dozens more people were biking on the walkway that parallels the street. What is it with Italians and their bikes? Alessandra says cycling is the second most popular sport here, save for football.
Ho una gomma bici bucata.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Yes, I'm In Italia...
...but Ecuadorians are maybe the nicest people I've ever encountered.
Milena, who is the au pair for this family during the spring, winter and fall months, has been showing me the ropes for the past week before she leaves on her holiday. She speaks Italian and Spanish... and I speak neither. We've been using Google Translate, but before we thought of it we actually could understand one another better than you would think.
Anyways, Milena, after about 48 hours of knowing me, asked me to come visit her home in Ecuador next June and told me we would go to the disco one night when she gets back in July. AND she is having her sisters (who I've literally never met) come pick me up on my first day off to show me around Monza and have dinner at their house. I wish I could do more for her than give her some short English lessons- we attempted One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish together. She is one of the sweetest people I've ever met.
Side note: I haven't heard any Italian music since I've been here. My window is above a stoplight on a street intersecting a main drag in Monza, and I keep my window open a lot. The cars outside that have their windows down keep playing Flo Rida and Coldplay and Rihanna. Giulia (the 13 year old daughter in the family) told me she doesn't like even one Italian song. She prefers Beyonce, Jesse McCartney, Shakira and -you guessed it- the Biebs. FEBBRE DI BIEBER!
Milena, who is the au pair for this family during the spring, winter and fall months, has been showing me the ropes for the past week before she leaves on her holiday. She speaks Italian and Spanish... and I speak neither. We've been using Google Translate, but before we thought of it we actually could understand one another better than you would think.
Anyways, Milena, after about 48 hours of knowing me, asked me to come visit her home in Ecuador next June and told me we would go to the disco one night when she gets back in July. AND she is having her sisters (who I've literally never met) come pick me up on my first day off to show me around Monza and have dinner at their house. I wish I could do more for her than give her some short English lessons- we attempted One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish together. She is one of the sweetest people I've ever met.
Side note: I haven't heard any Italian music since I've been here. My window is above a stoplight on a street intersecting a main drag in Monza, and I keep my window open a lot. The cars outside that have their windows down keep playing Flo Rida and Coldplay and Rihanna. Giulia (the 13 year old daughter in the family) told me she doesn't like even one Italian song. She prefers Beyonce, Jesse McCartney, Shakira and -you guessed it- the Biebs. FEBBRE DI BIEBER!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Spoke Too Soon.
Did I say relaxing summer?
A note on the young Italian children I've so far encountered. There kind of seems to be no disciplining them (which is not helping me do my job sometimes.) If they don't want to do something, they can throw a tantrum and not be in trouble for anything. And it's not just my host family- a lot of the children I see when I pick the kids up at school misbehave and their mothers do nothing about it, or they simply roll their eyes and chase after them. Am I too rigid? Maybe I should let kids be kids. (After all, I don't have to deal with them in 2 months.)
When Italian children feel like being good, though, it's fun. Today Maxi and I blew bubbles for the better part of an hour, and listening to the Monzan breeze while sharing his pure enjoyment was the perfect way to spend a summer afternoon. Even if it did rain.
Yeah, it's been raining. On and off for 2 weeks, I'm told. Which is fine, but I haven't really had the chance to go out and explore Monza at all. Well, that's what my day off is for- this Tuesday!
A note on the young Italian children I've so far encountered. There kind of seems to be no disciplining them (which is not helping me do my job sometimes.) If they don't want to do something, they can throw a tantrum and not be in trouble for anything. And it's not just my host family- a lot of the children I see when I pick the kids up at school misbehave and their mothers do nothing about it, or they simply roll their eyes and chase after them. Am I too rigid? Maybe I should let kids be kids. (After all, I don't have to deal with them in 2 months.)
When Italian children feel like being good, though, it's fun. Today Maxi and I blew bubbles for the better part of an hour, and listening to the Monzan breeze while sharing his pure enjoyment was the perfect way to spend a summer afternoon. Even if it did rain.
Yeah, it's been raining. On and off for 2 weeks, I'm told. Which is fine, but I haven't really had the chance to go out and explore Monza at all. Well, that's what my day off is for- this Tuesday!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
What You Can Tell About a Country From Their Airport
Caution- sweeping generalizations ahead.
From the 2 hours I spent in airports in both Reykjavik and Copenhagen, here is what I can tell about these countries.
Iceland. Lovely people, very happy and friendly. VERY environmentally conscious. I'm talking airport-personnel-on-scooters-instead-of-trams-or-carts conscious. Seriously. The food, though? Maybe their airport isn't a good window onto true Icelandic cuisine, but they are huge fans of mayonnaise and eggs. I am not. My lamb sandwich lost 3 lbs. when I scraped off the mayo.
Once I hit Copenhagen, I was preeettttttty sleepy. All I really remember was having to pay for WiFi and, perhaps in my crankiness, being irritated by that. The other thing I can say about Copenhagen- SUPER comfy purple chairs, but again, this might be because any chair at that point was a godsend.
You know how in American airports a lot of people seem irritated and in a rush? Not so in the Milan Malpensa airport. Guess that's a good sign for a relaxed summer.
From the 2 hours I spent in airports in both Reykjavik and Copenhagen, here is what I can tell about these countries.
Iceland. Lovely people, very happy and friendly. VERY environmentally conscious. I'm talking airport-personnel-on-scooters-instead-of-trams-or-carts conscious. Seriously. The food, though? Maybe their airport isn't a good window onto true Icelandic cuisine, but they are huge fans of mayonnaise and eggs. I am not. My lamb sandwich lost 3 lbs. when I scraped off the mayo.
Once I hit Copenhagen, I was preeettttttty sleepy. All I really remember was having to pay for WiFi and, perhaps in my crankiness, being irritated by that. The other thing I can say about Copenhagen- SUPER comfy purple chairs, but again, this might be because any chair at that point was a godsend.
You know how in American airports a lot of people seem irritated and in a rush? Not so in the Milan Malpensa airport. Guess that's a good sign for a relaxed summer.
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