Per le Donne (For the Ladies)

There’s something about the men in Roma…I’m not sure if it’s the foreign flair, the stony stare or the wicked hair…but I’m telling you, girls, these well-sculpted men are not to be missed. I tend to admire the outdoorsy types…see if you agree!

I’m guessing this fellow falls into the strong and silent category.

Just like any other country, Rome has its share of good-looking guys who spend a lot of time sitting around waiting to be noticed:

Personally, I prefer the tall, dark and mysterious type–the kind I know will always defend me:

Some men are just plain freaky-deaky, like this mad little hatter:

Ultimately, I think it’s important for men to have outside interests, don’t you? This ancient Roman seems to have that covered (horses), even while he himself is, well, rather UNcovered:

If you’re like me, you’ll be content to admire these Italian men from a distance; after all, any deeper relationship is sure to be…um…rocky.

Almost Enough To Make Your Hair Curl

This is how Italians dry their clothes!

Yikes!!! It takes a lot of work to live in Italy! And I don’t even have a real job yet–I’m talking about shopping, doing laundry and getting around town.

My close friends know that I am NOT fond of shopping, even at home, where I can understand what people are saying to me. The problem is exacerbated here; to have more choices (and fresh foods), you need to go to one store to buy meat and cheese, another for bread and sweets, another for fruit, and another for wine. There are also tobacco shops, electronic shops, perfume stores, and pharmacies that sell nothing but drugs. It’s almost enough to make your hair curl–which would be good, since I can’t find a curling iron in the entire city of Rome. You should see me–I look like the scary mom from Stephen King’s Carrie.

When I shop here, I’m pretty much the town clown, going from store to store, telling everybody I meet ”non parlo italiano,” even when they are actually speaking to the person behind me. When I don’t understand what someone is saying, my first reaction is to flush, the second is to forget the rudimentary Italian I DO know, and third, to grin stupidly while shaking my head. Yesterday I was in a grocery store, and another customer began talking to me and gesturing, so I gave her my standard “non parlo…” until she held out a little ticket to me. I tried to take it out of her hand, but she wouldn’t let go. And she wouldn’t leave–she just kept standing there, looking at me, saying, “Non capisce, eh?” Finally, right before I sank into a sad little heap of embarrassment, I figured out that she wanted to know if she could have my supersaver points, or whatever you call them. So I said, “no problema,” and slunk out of the store with my fabric softener.

That, by the way, was the second bottle of fabric softener I bought. We thought the first bottle was laundry soap, and so I washed three loads in it. Taking the first load out of the washer, I said to Jerry, “These kind of stink,” so I poured even more fabric softener into the machine for the next two, thinking they’d get more clean! When we hung them out on the balcony to dry, it started raining, so we had to bring the drying rack into our bedroom, where they got all stiff–seriously, the towels feel like emory boards–so naturally, we thought we needed fabric softener. This morning, Jerry got out the dictionary, and discovered that we still needed laundry soap! Arrrrgh!

At least getting places is easy–PSYCH–that one is for you, Chris. (He’s trying to bring the word “psych” back in vogue! Anything I can do to help, man…) To get to the Packer bar last Sunday, we first called a cab company, and they said they didn’t have cabs running that late (it was a 3:15 game at home; here it started at 10:15). So we looked at maps and found one bus that would take us there, and another “night” bus that would bring us home. We simply had to walk to the correct bus stop.

Easier said than done. We turned the wrong way THREE times and asked several different people for directions before we got to the bus stop 45 minutes later (we subsequently discovered that it’s just five minutes from our apartment!). I think that in Italy, Google maps are upside down.

Of course, it’s all worth it, and I know it’ll get easier. Today I was able to actually ask a shopkeeper if he knew where I could buy a curling iron, and I understood (sort of) what he said back to me. Wish me luck (and Jerry, since he has to look at me).

Arrivederci! and Buon Giornio!

The plane leaves tomorrow; this post is dedicated to my friends, who gave us farewell parties, lots of “Buon Viaggios,” heartfelt best wishes for Alex and Kalpa, and a warm welcome to the neighborhood for Shelley and Chris. Thank you, and I truly love each of you.

My mind is slowly traveling ’round a curve…moving gradually out of sadness at leaving our children, family and friends toward thinking about how to assimilate into a whole new life in Rome. I can be gregarious with my friends (anybody remember those hot tub parties?), but I’m shy when it comes to meeting new people on my own (you know, with no introductions). So what I need is a plan for making friends in Rome, and here it is:

Get Some Class: sign up for language lessons. Last time we were there, when we tried to speak Italian, it was so bad they’d immediately speak English to us. This might be a good place to meet people like me.

Belly Up: Stand at the banco (counter) to drink coffee. That’s where people converse. Twice each week, I’m going to force myself to strike up a conversation with someone (not easy for me, and it’s going to be even more scary in another language).

Disconnect and Connect: When I’m writing, I tend to spend a lot of time in front of the computer. I’m going to ease off this next year and spend more time in other places. Jerry wants to join a bowling league; maybe I’ll find something to join, too. I’m thinking about a book club, because that would also force me to read–and discuss what I’ve read–in Italian. I wonder if they have cooking clubs?

If anyone has suggestions for me, please feel free to comment! I could use the help. And now, for some music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6ng8kHgSyk

il matrimonio

Something wonderful happened last night: my incredible son Alex asked his lovely girlfriend Kalpa to marry him. This, five days before he leaves home for boot camp and the Navy Seals training program. We are absolutely thrilled.

And totally surprised…! With all this going on, it’s really difficult to put my mind on writing about Italy, even though we leave in just eight short days.

So I guess I’ll just go with the flow, and share a few Italian wedding traditions with you. Not everyone does all of these, and some of them are pretty old-school, but they’re definitely fun!

Wife Test: Sometimes, the couple walks to the church together, with frenemies placing obstacles in the bride’s path to see what type of wife she will be. If she picks up a broom, for example, she is expected to keep a clean house. Thank god nobody did that to me–I’d still be single.

Single? Knot! A large ribbon may be placed over the doorway of the church to signify the union. Sometimes, the bride and groom will tie the ribbon together in front of the chapel.

Dances with Guns: During Sicilian wedding receptions, la tarantella is a traditional group dance. Not too long ago, men would open their coats to reveal their sawed-off shotguns and other weapons. The story goes that it was simply impolite to conceal weapons. I rather think they just wanted to look tough. 

It’s In the Bag: Italian brides often carry a satin purse during the reception, in order to accept monetary gifts from the guests. Traditionally, if someone gives her a gift, she awards them a dance. 

Thank the Don: This is, traditionally, the day to thank the parents of the bride and groom for any favor they have done you in the past. If you forget this part, you may want to sit facing the door each time you dine at a restaurant.

Mangia, Mangia! The best part, of course, is the food! As many as 14 different courses are served, each with its own wine or liquor accompaniment. The finishing touch? A layered cake served with espresso. Afterward, drinking and dancing go on into the wee hours–and sometimes the festivities last for several days!

Italian Holidays

A float in the parade at Carnevale, in Putignano, Italy

Tonight I will be in my American kitchen making hors d’ oeuvres and desserts for Thanksgiving with my daughter (can’t wait!).

Italians, of course, don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, but there are 12 national holidays on their calendars, when businesses close and people turn to food, drink and camaraderie:

1 January – New Year’s Day
6 January – Epiphany
Easter Sunday (date varies)
Easter Monday (I love this; why don’t Americans celebrate this?)
25 April – Festa della Liberazione (Anniversary of the Liberation)
1 May – Festa dei Lavatori (Labor Day)
2 June -Festa della Repubblica (Republic Day)
15 August – Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary
1 November – All Saints Day
8 December – Immaculate Conception
25 December – Christmas Day
26 December – Boxing Day

You’ll notice that seven of these are religious holidays, also celebrated here at home. New Years, of course, is the same as here, and Labor Day, while celebrated in May, vs. our September, has organized labor roots similar to our own. What I’ll attempt to explain in this post is the meaning behind the other Italian national holidays: Festa della Liberazione, Festa della Repubblica and Boxing Day.

Festa della Liberazione: This feast day celebrates the success of the Italian Resistance in liberating Italy from both the Nazis and from their own dictator, Mussolini, in 1945. These days, there are celebrations and parades all over the country on April 25, and the song Bella Ciao is a common refrain. Bella Ciao tells of an Italian resistance fighter who died in the quest for freedoom–he wanted to be buried in the mountains in the shade of a beautiful flower. Here is the song: www.youtube.com/user/madex77

Festa della Repubblica: On this day in 1946, Italy became a Republic, ousting the monarchy. Unlike April 25, which commemorates the death of tyranny, this day celebrates the birth of a nation. Think of it as a day similar to our July 4.

Boxing Day: First of all, I love this name! This is actually the feast of St. Stephen, said to be the first martyr for Jesus–stoned to his death in Jerusulem. December 26 is referred to as “Boxing Day” not because everybody dons gloves and starts beating each other, but because people have left gifts of money and other treasures at hospitals and churches ever since the Middle Ages.

The most interesting part of this holiday in Italy is the Carnevale that takes place in the town of Putignano, beginning on Boxing Day and ending on Shrove Tuesday, the day before Ash Wed. This well-known Italian event consists of 4 over-the-top parades, complete with incredible floats and masquerades, plus various other celebrations throughout the time period. I’m already thinking about what my costume will be! http://placeinpuglia.com/puglia-the-region/events/putignano-carneval

Lightening the Load

I have a serious addiction to spices.

In typical materialistic American fashion, I have accumulated far too much stuff. I’m realizing, as we start thinking about what to bring with us to Rome, that, apart from family photos and heirlooms, none of it is very important.

There are certain things, of course, that I don’t want to be without. For example, I need my electronics: computer, backup drive, phone, camera, power cords and chargers. And I’ve already bought a year’s supply of contacts and a couple of toiletry items I’m particularly attached to. But when I found myself seriously considering whether to pack my favorite Spice House specially blended seasonings, I knew I had to

 

STOP.

 

I can’t let the fact that we’ll be there for a year get in the way of good common sense…for example, taking my yoga mat, six exercise videos and two 8-lb weights is more than ridiculous. 

 

So now I’m applying the following test to items on the packing list:

 

1. Can I live without this?

2. Can I buy it there if I really need it?

3. Again, can I live without this?

 

And I’m discovering that, yes, I certainly can live without a lot of things I live with now. I’m hoping that this new focus on having less sticks with me…after all, it’s really just stuff…

Soccer vs. Football; Romulus vs. Remus

How is a sports team related to a wolf nursing two human babies? Read on…

I love football, and I love the Packers. But it looks like I’m going to have to learn to love another team: AS Roma, a local favorite in Rome.

I don’t know much about soccer, but I do know that the matches are low in scores–I looked at the season so far, and the most points in any match by one team was 3!!! What’s up with that?  The season goes from September-May, so we should have a lot of chances to check out the matches and get acquainted with the sport.

The logo for AS Roma shows Romulus and Remus and their surrogate mother, a she-wolf who suckled them once they washed ashore after their father, the god Mars, abandoned them in the River Tiber. See, the problem was that their real mother was a vestal virgin–theoretically. Funny thing about vestal virgins–they’re not supposed to get pregnant. But that’s what happens when the god of war sneaks into your boudoir.

After the wolf nursed them for awhile, a shepherd and his wife took over and raised the twins. Once they grew up, the brothers decided to found a city at the place where the wolf saved them…but these guys were just a tiny bit dysfunctional. When Romulus starting building the city walls, Remus made fun of them, saying they were so short he could jump over them–which he did. Romulus was furious, and killed his brother. Then he named the city after himself: Roma. For more on the legend, see:  http://www.unrv.com/culture/romulus-and-remus.php

So…the legend is pretty cool (albeit barbaric), but we’re going to have to slowly wean ourselves off American football for a while (kind of like the twins and their wolf mama!). Luckily, Jerry found a bar in Rome that shows Packer games, so we’ll be able to watch the afternoon games over there on Sunday nights–Rome is 7 hours ahead.

Cell Phones in Rome

This only LOOKS like a handsome Italian--it's Jerry, on our last visit in 2004.

Wow, that was a long time ago…but that’s when we began a love affair with the Eternal City, Rome, Italy. Among the things we learned on that trip: 1) Always bring your own bags to the grocery store, 2) try, at least, to converse in Italian–even though many of the locals speak English, they appreciate your efforts, and 3) never, never, never order a Pizza Indianapolis…more on that in a later post.

We’ve been busy trying to get things in order around the house before moving to Italy. Jerry’s been cleaning out the garage and the basement, and I’ve been emptying closets and cupboards of things we haven’t used in years. Shelley and Chris (our daughter and her husband) are moving in Thanksgiving weekend, so we want things to be in order for them.

Mostly, I’ve been researching cell phones in Rome and trying to figure out a way to keep our US phone numbers, have at least one smart phone in Italy, be able to talk with friends and family, be able to retrieve messages on our old numbers, have the ability to talk and text each other in Rome, and not spend a lot of money.

It’s a tall order. But I found a good web resource: www.angloinfo.com.

Turns out neither of our phones will work over there–you need phones with global capability. The Italian iPhone costs about $700, so that’s not an option. We decided to buy a used global iPhone 3 here, and get the SIM card over there from Telecom Italia, www.telecomitalia.it. Then we’ll bring our US phone plan down to bare bones, just to be able to retrieve any messages someone might leave us. We hope to converse mostly through Facebook and email with family and friends, and we’ll use Skype for occasional phonecalls–it’s fairly inexpensive. I can sell my current iPhone to offset the cost of the new (used one).

Just reading that back makes me realize how complicated it all is…hope it works!

The Journey Begins

This post begins a journal of one year of adventures in Rome, Italy, for Jerry and me. I plan on updating it weekly, with the first few posts outlining the things we have to do to prep for the trip.

First of all, I’m excited, but very anxious about the whole thing. I know that it’s a great opportunity to live and work in another country, but we’re really going to miss our family and friends–and especially our kids. So if there is a way you can manage it, we’d love to have you come visit! And if not, I hope you will send emails to us and/or comments to this blog–Jerry and I want to know what’s going on in your lives this next year, too.

So, on to the trip: It turns out that the first thing you have to worry about, when planning on living in Italy for more than 90 days, is getting a visa. There is a group of 25 European countries, called Schengen, that have this requirement. Here’s the website where you can get more info: http://www.schengenvisa.cc/

We collected all of our info:

insurance docs, financial docs, passports, driver licenses, social security cards, completed visa application,

and headed to the Italian Consulate in Chicago (2 hours away). You must apply in person.

It was all going well until we learned that you must have a housing rental contract before they will even accept the paperwork. We had hoped to get to Rome and stay in a hotel for a week or so while we looked for an apartment in person, but instead, we returned home and began searching for a place online.

After finding a TINY furnished apartment through www.halldis.com, we took the rental contract back to Chicago, only to discover they needed it IN ITALIAN! But they were kind enough to accept all the other paperwork and let us email the contract to them.

Today we received word that our visas are on the way–much sooner than we anticipated! Now it feels real.