roots

It was pouring rain when I stepped off the train in Siena. Giancarlo and I were drenched by the time we made it back to his apartment, but I couldn't have cared less. After a year, it had all come back full circle. I was reconnected with my Italian roots. I was home. With wet hair and squeaky shoes, we waddled our way to the Piazza del Campo. I had only one thing on my mind. Coconut gelato is perhaps the most delightful thing that I've ever tasted. After a year of separation, it didn't let me down. With the first taste of sweet and creamy coconut, the memories started pouring in and the sun emerged to shin brightly over a perfect piazza, a perfect day, and two friends reminiscing about a perfect Tuscan summer.

After a bottle of Prosecco, we headed to the school to accompany the new students on an evening walk around the city center. I enjoyed observing the reactions of the students as they learned about Siena's rich history and legends. I imagined myself in the same situation a year ago... eager to learn, to experience, to grow. I have learned, experienced, and grown, but I was still just as bright-eyed and mesmerized by Siena's beauty and depth. Giancarlo and I slipped off early and met Roni, another staff member, and her friend Monsi for dinner. As we discussed the previous summer as well as future plans, I realized that a lot changes in one year. But how nice it is to experience life's little comforts... Good conversation with old friends, the taste of fresh pasta, and a familiar night air veiled with stars that I have often contemplated.

The next day we took the bus out to Acquacalda to visit Luciana, my host mother from last summer. We walked down Via Dante. Rang the bell. Waited. Climbed the stairs to Number 18. And there she was to greet me with a glowing face, warm hugs and many kisses. I felt so loved. I sat in my old chair at the table as she served us coffee and chocolate cake. Nothing had changed. She was still my Italian mother... the woman who had fed me, cared for me, and taught me how to live in a new little world. The sound of her voice was comforting. Her thick Tuscan accent was no easier to understand, but I was glad for it. I somehow managed to say goodbye and we left. Just like that.

We spent Sunday in Florence. Once again, food was on the mind. We made our way to "Il latini," a restaurant popular among the locals for traditional Tuscan cuisine. We sat family style, surrounded by couples speaking Italian, French, and English. Just as the previous summer, the waiter offered us no menu, but this time I knew just what I wanted- pappa al pomodoro- a thick soup made from stale bread, tomatoes, onions, basil, and vegetable broth. Next, I had fresh pasta with tomatoes and zucchini. The red wine was bottomless, of course. Dessert was strawberry mousse and a glass of Moscato, followed by freshly baked cantuccini and a shot of a traditional Tuscan liquor (it was the only thing that we left on the table). Lunch was followed by a nap in a nearby patch of grass. Naps are a must after an Italian meal.

Giancarlo and I said our goodbyes and I headed to the train station. Three hours later, I was home again. To a new home. I wonder how deep my roots will plant here... What will grow from this new experience.

l'isola d'oro

Grado is called the island of gold. I now understand why. Paolo picked me up this morning and took me to Grado for the day. At this moment, I cannot configure the appropriate words to describe my day, both in terms of relating what I saw in Grado and in what I experienced with Paolo and his family. It's probably best to start at the beginning... Paolo is a nervous kinda guy. Not clumsy or fidgety, but very emotional. For this, he told me that he couldn't talk to me while he was driving. I am already inclined to appreciate silence, as opposed to engaging in meaningless conversation, but this was a very different kind of silence. A warm silence. Throughout the day, Paolo and I continued to share moments of silence (it was a bit tiresome frequently changing between Italian and English). I felt as if there was a profound understanding and respect between us, one that seldom exists even between old friends. It was very calming.

After we walked along the beach, around the city center, visited the church, the port, and passed (in slight disgust) a parade of red Ferraris, we headed to the fishermen's docks on the lagoon. Paolo's father picked us up in his little wooden boat and took us out to the family's "casono," a word that refers to fishermen's huts on little islands throughout the lagoon. We passed the afternoon with the company of Paolo's parents, drinking wine, enjoying a pleasant lunch of pasta and garden fresh salad (the arugula and radicchio were grown there on the island), and soaking up the sun. Paolo had told me about his brother, Fabio, who studied abroad in Georgia while he was in high school. After the family received a phone call from Fabio, they passed the phone to me to ask him where he had studied in Georgia. It really is a very small world. Fabio lived in Cartersville and went to Woodland High School. Of all the places in the world... He invited me to come and visit him Milan. Maybe I will.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon on the beach. Paolo leaves on Tuesday to spend some time in another self-sustainable ecological camp, this time in Florence. He doesn't know how long he'll stay. Maybe forever. I can't help but feel extremely privileged to have spent a day with Paolo. In bocca del lupo.

ready or not, here i come

I'm exhausted. Earlier this morning I took my first run in Staranzano. I found a little road that weaved through the countryside and passed by several wheat fields. It was beautiful. The run was followed by my daily yoga practice. This afternoon I spent several hours playing hide-and-seek with the girls. Actually, it was more like playing tag. I was running while holding Luce on my hip the entire time, so needless to say, Ginevra did most of the hiding/effective running/tagging, I did most of the counting/sweating/feet dragging, and Luce just giggled and said "VAI!"(it means "you go") and "GET HER!". Easy for her to say.

Here is a photo that I took with the girls on Saturday. It was taken on the balcony of Marcello's office in Monfalcone's main piazza. More photos to come...

the three steps

Tonight I met Paolo. He is one swell guy. Paolo is from Grado, the hometown of Cristina and Marcello. Paolo just returned from spending some time in an ecological community in the Alps (he biked all the way there and back). He says that he's searching for an "alternative reality," one in which people no longer live off of the earth, but live with the earth. To him, this idea is rather radical. He seemed to think that I couldn't understand his philosophy and was reluctant to explain it to me in Italian (he said it was too complicated). But I understood perfectly. I'm also searching for that alternative reality. For a life of simplicity, void of egotism and materialism. For a place where "Yes we can" is not just a slogan but a way of life. A world where capitalism is viewed as antique and barbaric. Where equality is no longer granted but definite, natural.

Paolo says that his life has consisted of three steps. At the first step, Paolo believed that he could change the world for the better. Realizing that this was rather naive, Paolo moved onto the second step. He no longer believed that he could change anything, and didn't see any reason to try to fix a world that was so knowingly corrupt. But like anyone with the propensity to acknowledge the inequalities and material corruption of the world, Paolo was unable to remain apathetic for long. Thus, Paolo is now on the third step. To create an alternate reality. To build his own little world. One day when the unsustainable system of capitalism falls, when the soil of large-scale farmlands is depleted, and when people are actually poisoned by processed foods and cable news shows, Paolo's little world will still persist. Is it really so radical to be one with the earth?

Human beings are leeches and there is only so much blood to suck before the earth is dry.

On a lighter note, life here is good. The food is good, the conversation is excellent, life is slow, and Luce said "let's go!" today.

"mamma! whitney parla inglese!"

Day one is coming to an end. I'm here in Staranzano and it's beautiful. Getting here should have been a disaster by most standards, but I handled it quite well. My flight out of DC to Munich was delayed due to the volcanic ash, so I missed my connecting flight to Trieste and added another 6 hours to my 16 hours of travel time. Marcello, my host dad, picked me up from the airport in Trieste and drove me to their home in the quiet and lovely countryside, which is only a 10 minute drive from the airport. Cristina, my host mom, and Little Luce (not yet 4) greeted me at the house. I decided earlier that I would only speak English around the girls, knowing that if they hear me speak Italian they'll be resistant to speak in English... so I immediatley began speaking to Luce in English. I'm not quite sure if she understands anything that I've been saying... she just responds with "si'!" to everything I say and then she giggles. Shortly after my arrival Luce exclaimed that she had to "pee pee" and asked for Cristina's assistance. From the bathroom I heard her exclaim "Mamma! Whitney parla inglese!", followed by a chorus of giggles. This kid is seriously the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

My living situation is pretty much ideal. Their country home is quite large, especially by Italian standards, and is very quiet but not too isolated from the cities of Monfalcone and Trieste. My room is upstairs with the playroom and office space. It's small, but quite cosy. I have a little window in my room that opens up onto a balcony that oversees the neighbor's farmland. While napping this afternoon, I enjoyed the accompaniment of chirping birds and one over-zealous rooster. This rooster might be my only problem. I also have my own bathroom, which again has a large window that overlooks the neighbor's garden... I just hope the neighbor doesn't overlook my showers.

Dinner was quite pleasant. I met Ginevra (10) and must say that I couldn't have imagined a more peaceful, kind, and thoughtful child. Her English is surprisingly very good. She seems to understand everything that I've been saying and tries her best to respond in English. She is quite clever though... She hasn't heard me speak Italian but knows that I can, so she tends to rattle on in Italian and then asks me to translate for her. This might actually be better for me as it will help me to improve my Italian. Dinner was simple, which I greatly appreciated. We had a delicious vegetable, rice, and bean soup that Cristina prepared, along with bread and fresh olives. Dessert was fresh strawberries:) I was pleased to find out that Cristina shops at a completely organic ("biologico") market. She is also very sympathetic to animal suffering and only eats meat when it's neccessary for her health (she is critically iron deficient).

Tomorrow is Saturday and the family will be taking me "in giro" around the city. We will also visit Grado, an island on the Adriatic. I can't wait to get my toes wet.

A presto.

the journey begins

Tomorrow I leave for Staranzano, Italy, my home away from the home I no longer have. I moved out of my apartment in Athens on Sunday and it was much more emotional than I had expected. I realized the full scope of the decisions that I've recently made when I packed away my favorite tea cups, knowing that it will be at least 2 1/2 years until I use them again. Now that I have everything neatly packed in boxes and have said my long and tearful goodbye to Athens, I'm looking forward to another summer in Italy as I somewhat anxiously await to receive my Peace Corps invitation.

I will be living with a family in Staranzano for the summer and teaching their 2 kids English, or at least trying to teach them English. The girls are 3 1/2 and 10 and speak little to no English... this should be interesting. The town is very small and near the coastline of the Adriatic Sea. The only thing separating me from the Adriatic is one more trip to Target, the ride to the airport, a change-over in DC, another change-over in Munich, and a ride with my Italian host family from the airport in Trieste to our home in Staranzano. This is going to be a great summer.