Daily Life

What is a day like for us in Italy?
Giovanni rises at 6am and has breakfast before biking to work.
I wake up with Matteo and open the shutters in the bedroom to let in the fresh air and sunlight (Italians have shutters on all the windows and doors which they close at night and then in the morning everything is opened - there are no screens and mysteriously, very few mosquitos inside the house). Cookies and coffee in the morning. Matteo gets oatmeal and fruit with juice. I do a combination - I believe american breakfasts are healthier but I really love the encouragement of cookies and coffee. Cleaning the kitchen - you never leave any dishes in the sink or the table messy or the floor unswept. Washing clothes (truthfully Luciana has usually already washed, hung and ironed all our clothes before I even get up). She even irons our underpants, sheets and so forth. Speaking of this, I am learning the science of laundry. I never knew it could be so complex. She has a station dedicated to this in the basement. She hand scrubs each item of clothing that has stains and chooses from one of the 20 plus bottles of detergents, bleaches, stain removers, perfumes according to the material and stain at hand. Then she sorts the clothes according to whites and colors and washes them at specific temperatures in a machine with very precise settings. Afterwards, they are inspected for cleanliness and if they pass, they are hung outside to dry. Ironing occurs almost every day and each item is carefully pressed and folded. It is VERY important that each item is handled with care so to prevent wrinkles. After some light housekeeping (truthfully, Luciana has already done most everything), Matteo and I play or take a bike ride. I contemplate what I could make for lunch if Luciana is working at the company and I usually search for good italian recipes on the internet. I make lunch or help Luciana make lunch. The table is set and everything is ready at noon. Everyone comes home from work (except Giovanni since he only has an hour lunch break and the company provides a delicious meal for only one euro a day). Wine is poured, bread is broken and pasta or rice is eaten. This is called the primi piati (first plate). Their is almost always a first and a second plate. This makes it hard for me to cook since I have to plan more than a one or two pot meal (my usual approach). The first plate is pasta or risotto. The second is usually some kind of meat or fish and polenta served with a vegetable. Then there is always a salad, sometimes dessert and always a coffee after the meal is served and the table is cleared. I realize I have been drinking like three expressos a day - granted they're small but still.... It is really enjoyable to sit and drink a good expresso after eating. By the time you clean up and drink your expresso, it is almost 2pm. Gianny (Giovanni's father has taken a snooze and heads back to work). Luciana has either been playing with Matteo or cleaning the kitchen and she heads back to work. On tuesdays and thursdays, she watches Davide (Matteo's two year old cousin) and so she is at home all day. She told me that she would rather be at home then working at the company in the heat. They have air conditioning but I've never seen them use it. It's quite hot and humid here right now. I am guessing it is in the high 90's. After lunch, Matteo and I play in the swimming pool, or read books and then I take him for a 5 minute bike ride so that he can fall alseep for a nap. This is my only time to myself and I treasure it. When he wakes up, we go walking, playing and then begin to plan dinner. It repeats all over again, the process of the meal, only this time Giovanni is home. We relax and drink some wine, coffee and most likely some Grappa (a northern italian moutain alcohol which warms you up instantly). Lately, after cleaning up the kitchen, Luciana, Matteo and I go on a brisk walk for exercise. I have discovered some charming country roads and historic villas during these walks. The more time I spend with Luciana, the better my italian becomes. She loves to talk and is great at understanding me. We try to go to bed at 10pm. If Matteo goes to sleep right away, Giovanni and I sometimes go down the road and meet some of his friends for a beer. There are always friends meeting and drinking somewhere nearby. Everything seems to happen spontaneously or if you make a plan, it is to go the sea together on the weekend. This aspect of Italian social life is one that I admire and feel very curious about. How do they do this? My main theory has been that they have more time since everyone is living with their parents and their mamas do their laundry, cook, clean and grocery shop (imagine how much more time you would have if someone else did these things for you!). But also it seems to stem from a difference in mentality. More on that later.

porkocane

I can now officially work in Italy! Luciana (Giovanni's mother), Matteo, and I headed to the Questura (official immigration office) early this morning to obtain my permisso di sojourno, a document that gives me permission to stay and work in Italy. It is a much easier process for me since I am married to an Italian and because of baby Matteo, we were ushered ahead of the 100 plus people in line. Here, women with children get first priority. Perhaps this is a reflection of the strong regard for family (or the negative population growth). I found it quite conscientious. They even had a supervised nursery for babies and children. We went to various other offices today after receiving the permisso di sojourno where each person told us to go some place else. I am learning that Italian bureacracy is like a scavenger hut. You go to several places before you find the place where someone can actually process your documents but once you arrive at the right place, it is unbelievably simple and fast compared to America. So I feel empowered knowing that I can legally work. I am planning to draft a flyer offering english classes and am currently searching someone from whom to receive a shiatsu so that I can learn more about the shiatsu community here.



Matteo seems happy here. He loves running freely in and out of the house and is showing a passion for gardening. He picks several tomatoes and strawberries each day. He devours the strawberries while taking one bite of the cherry tomatoes and leaving the rest as compost. He is speaking and responding in both english and italian. His favorite new italian word is 'panne' (bread) which he uses when we walk one block to the local panaderia to buy fresh bread. He also loves to say ching ching (which is the italian equivalent of cheers) and knock glasses several times over dinner. In english, he has mastered two important words -'more' and 'done'- which make feeding him so much easier. He adores italian expresso (a teaspoon of his nonna's coffee mixed in a coffee cup of water). This along with the gelato he has eaten are two things I would never have allowed in Minnesota but I guess when in Rome.... I have now substituted chammomile tea in his coffee cup and he seems just as happy. I will post some pictures of him soon.

Giovanni (Pier) just started work two days ago. He is working as an industrial mechanic in the same company as his best friend, Luciano. They get to eat lunch together every day and Giovanni is apprenticing with the 'guru' of the mechanics, so things are going well so far. In his spare time, he is applying the knowledge he gained working in Minnesota at Vineland tree care. He has been pruning all of his parents trees and his father calls him the artist of the gypsies (this is just an example of the colorful venetian expressions that don't translate so well into english - another one is 'porkocane' , a swear word that translates as pigdog.

Catching up

It will be two weeks tomorrow since we arrived. I finally feel as though I am catching up with myself. The past month has been a whirlwind of packing up our apartment, moving, spending the final precious moments with loved ones, and flying across the ocean to arrive here in our new home. For the first week, we recovered by eating delicous seafood and pasta prepared by Luciana (Giovanni's mother), eating gelato in the evening, and spending four days in their chalet in the moutains.

But that all came to an abrupt end when I woke up one morning and jumped out of bed as soon as I heard Giovanni's mother scolding him in italian, "tu non sei ancora en vacanza" (you are no longer on vacation!) followed by a bunch more italian words sputtered two quickly to decipher. I began neurotically cleaning the bathroom in an attempt to appease my guilt. This was just the beginning of a day that would have me freaking out because I had agreed to cook lunch. I was so intimidated by the idea of having to meet the standard of Giovanni' father, that I ended up burning the pancetta, breaking the cuboard when I slammed it in frustation, and bursting into tears when Luciana came home and found Giovanni dumping the burnt pancetta into the garbage. It was not pretty and I felt really embarrissed. I also had my period and everything seemed impossible. I felt trapped not knowing how to drive or bike safely with a baby. Later I walked with Matteo in the stroller to the health food store and bought quinoa because all of the shops selling food close on wednesday afternoons. I made the family a simple quinoa with vegetables dish, salad and Gianny ate some fresh grana (cheese)afterwards. It was nothing extraordinary but everyone seemed ok and I felt like I had dissolved one more hurdle of perfectionism by not trying so hard and just doing what was easiest.

If there was a theme to this journey so far, and there always is if you look carefully, it seems to be just that: the art of not striving. I recently read Eckhart Tolle's book, A New Earth and initially, it helped me to shift from irritability and resentment (while we were moving) to being able to invoke the witness self, the observer, or THE PRESENCE as he calls it. I could watch myself wanting to go on the roller coaster ride or even going on it and yet some part of me, was not on the roller coaster and so I could see that it was not truly necessary to completely spin out, that there was a deeper self always watching and that the self we perceive ourselves to be is just a very limited tip of the iceberg self. Anyway by the end of the book, i was focusing so much on being present that I was caught again in striving, striving to be or become or arrive somewhere that I am not. Then I happened to open a book on mindful parenting by Jon Kabat-Zinn. There was a phrase about a non-striving, non reactive, non judgemental orientation... This woke me up. Oh I thought, I have been totally striving to be present. And then i realized that i even strive to deepen my breath when i meditate rather than just watch it. So now I am striving not to strive, just kidding, but really I am practicing truly letting things be. Just noticing what is there whether it is anger, anxiety, lonliness, joy ect. without trying to remove it (or preserve it if it is desirable) in an attempt to experience only the more pleasant aspects of the moment. That is another thing that Pema Chrodrin says: can we not make such a big deal about pleasant versus unpleasant? This leads into the other aspect of my experience so far in Italy. I have realized that it is much harder for me to try and live here than bicycle 100 miles a day in a foreign country. Much much harder. I realized that this contrast is actually a metaphor for my life in that I feel much more comfortable with change than remaining still through discomfort. My new challenge is to observe what it feels like to sit through intense feelings like lonliness or anxiety or fear without finding distractions to soften them. It is easier to do this here because I do not have the usual comforts of deep friendships and conversations, family, culture, places like bookstores, mochas, wild nature, or even work. I do, however, have my dypod (an incredibly thoughtful and loving gift of music and pictures from dear friends) whose music has already transformed my airport crabbiness to a much needed cry on the dark airplane ride to Italy. Music has a way of making the present moment (no matter how ugly or painful) feel kind of charming as if you are in a dramatic movie playing the soundtrack of your life.

And so I am here, it is good, it is hard, i made yummy gnocci two nights ago and everyone was happy! Tonight I will attempt Pasta arrabiata for the second time and i may even laugh if i burn the pancetta again. Thank you for being interested in the truth of my experience. It may not be the Italy that everyone raves about - I'll get to that or you can get to that if you come and visit - but it is my italy so far... you know the real one, the one that involves learning to be part of a new family and learning to listen more than talk. These are both hard for me. Love to you all. D