Winding down

Too many things to do and the Italian bureaucracy and my lack of Italian skills to do it in. Who knew that returning bike keys could be such a big production? We went to the police station where we originally got the keys for their "City Bike" program (which, if you missed last summer's blogs is essentially a program where all of Alessandria's citizens get to trade out parts from the once new City Bikes for their old clunkers, leaving the City Bikes locked up in kiosks waiting for the 2 dumb Americans to come with their keys and attempt to ride bikes with no brakes, no seat, and or no handlebars- click below).

Anyway, at the police station...as soon as they saw us coming, a woman yells up to the second floor for someone up there to help us because it was too hard for her to move away from her personal conversation and cigarette. Then the guy making copies upstairs yells down for us to come up and takes us to a closed door where the woman who opened it looked like she must have been fast asleep just seconds before. This woman acts like she doesn't even know what bicycle program we're talking about (although the sign on her door, if memory serves, said Transportation Dept.) and why if we had their bike keys why we didn't have the bikes? We spend quite a while trying to make her understand just how Alessandria's City Bike program worked and just what we were trying to do... then one of us got the bright idea of showing her the room down the hall where we originally had obtained our keys last summer. But before we could get there we were intercepted a few times by other "helpful" folks, again who seemed to all be employed by the transportation dept. but looked at our keys like we had either stolen them or the bikes. Finally someone in another office, listening to our broken Italian and our helpers broken English, comes out of her office and saves the day. She was a real sweetheart, spoke English very well, AND seemed to know they had this program. So after filling out multiple forms with our key numbers and giving us 10 euro- and making many copies for us to later throw in the trash- we were free to apparently steal more bikes.

Speaking of copies of papers... There is ALWAYs a receipt or two or three for everything here. They won't let me leave the gelato stand without my receipt- "aspeti, Signora, aspeti!" (wait, Ma'am, wait!) while I try to make my getaway. They could replant the Amazon with all the wasted paper, I swear. BUT there is a law that says that the merchant must give out a receipt and the customer must take one and hold onto it for at least 100 meters. Or what?! So being the good temporary Italian residents we have not dared to find out the fate that might befall us should we lose the receipt at, say, 50 or 99 meters.

And then there is Telephone Italia and Alice, the internet service... I only wish I had a recording of the conversation I had with the phone company. God knows if our phone will be cut off tomorrow or 3 years from now.

It's way too hard to leave so I guess we'll stay. We really don't know how to cancel the internet anyway.

My love(s)

There she is...my dealer!!

(see previous post for the back story and a couple of extra pictures Rachel took today)

Gelato Season has Begun!

As Rachel announced last week, Spring has come to Alessandria and that means I have now consumed un cono per day since March 1st. I can't tell you how happy I am these days! I am partial to nocciola (hazelnut) and stracciatella (chocolate chip) which means I rarely waver from those two. However when Gabriella was here she mentioned a flavor I should try- riso (rice) which tastes like rice pudding- that she loved so much that she now rates the quality of a gelateria by whether they carry that flavor. A woman after my own heart "rating" gelaterie- fantastico! I like riso but it hasn't knocked my two favorites off the top of my list.

Now this is when I tell you that I died and went to heaven. When you ask? Well it started in February when both Rachel and I noticed the most amazing aroma wafting in our courtyard and it seemed to be coming from somewhere in our apartment building or at least nearby. We smelled it every day for at least a week before we ran into our neighbor Massimo in the courtyard. When we commented on the delicious aroma, he motioned for us to come with him. And there in one corner of our courtyard (which all along we had assumed was a storage unit) was a room where hazelnuts were being roasted and the syrup extracted from them to make MY nociola gelato! He introduced us to Guglelmo Cercena

whose family has been in the gelato business for over 100 years, starting out peddling ice cream on the street

before opening up their first store in Alessandria and now with gelaterie in most of the major northern Italian cities. Guglelmo was happy to show us what he was doing in this dark tiny little room. The equipment is all over a century old

He indicated that we should bring over a container to take home some hazelnuts. Timidly we brought back a small butter container which he filled. The taste of those warm and freshly roasted hazelnuts was out of this world. A few days later our favorite hazelnut roaster laughed when we returned with a much larger container.

Of course my first question back in early February was when will the gelateria reopen for the Spring and summer months? He said March 1st which meant he would be roasting hazelnuts for much of February to extract what you see below for my nocciola

Who would have thought that the first place I ever had gelato in my new home of Alessandria was made in my very own backyard? And that first gelato was solamente nocciola- both scoops!

And from opening day, March 1st, (as I mentioned at the beginning) being true to what feels like my destiny , I have had a gelato every day... because who am I to mess with such fate?

Just who IS that tall woman blocking your view of me? The gelataia (the ice cream seller) in the white cap waited on me on my very first day- it was (unrequited) love at first sight. She has taught me how to pronounce my favorites, too. Is anyone in the entire world luckier than me??

Bologna and TrenItalia

I am nothing if not obsessive so first I'll get this off my chest. WHY can't the Italian train system be reliable? Why does it cost more to take the train than an airplane between major cities (here and all over Europe)? Why can't they announce the goddamn city that's coming up next? Why can't they give you more than a few inches of luggage space (yes, it is better on the newer trains but you have to get a newer train)? Why do they have 1 person working a window for assistance when the line is snaking out the door (shades of the American postal system...)? How is it possible that they remodeled our train station and it has NO elevator or escalator and has many, many stairs?? Why is a train station with no escalator (or luggage ramp)the NORM here in Italy? Why am I whining like this when it's the same or worse in the States? I don't know-it just feels good to put it all down like the American Princess that I am.

Okay... Venice to Bologna. No transportation hitches that I remember (my rant was for the Bologna to home leg)...

Bologna is a lovely city and while we only had 6 hours to explore we were able to comfortably navigate the major "sights" on foot. Obviously we just scratched the surface of what is there but I saw enough to know why some folks had suggested we consider Bologna for our year here. It is vibrant and charming and has a strong University feel. That's because it IS an ancient university city, the oldest in Europe (founded in 1088), with Italy's best medical school and one of its top business programs. From reading the billboards it also seems to have a very lively art scene and a lot of other cultural activities. We were pleased to read that it's a very liberal city and where the national gay alliance has its headquarters. And we already knew from Rita (who hails from nearby Ferrara) that the Emila-Romagna region is a haven of gastronomic delights but of course we needed to discover this for ourselves.

oops, sorry... the lasagna Bolognese, Gnocchi con
spinacci, insalata mista, and vino rosso are missing
from the picture...but trust me, it was all very good.

With a full stomach we could walk a lot further...


outside the Palazzo della Mercanzia (1391) which houses the local Chamber of Commerce, Industry, Crafts, and Agriculture Offices inside.... guess these guys did all right for themselves!

Then there are Bologna's "twin" towers that compete with the Leaning Tower of Pisa in "slant supremacy." One leans more than 7 feet and the other more than 11 feet from perpendicular! And check out the guy on the one that leans the furthest. Mamma mia!! The pictures do not capture the lean but when we were standing there looking up we were amazed that they were still standing- and what's more amazing is they have been standing like that since the 12th century! If one were so inclined (no pun intended) one could go to the top for a panoramic view.

From these architectural wonders we went up the street to discover 4 churches linked together. Apparently a church has stood on this site since the 5th century when it was converted from a Temple of Isis. Charlemagne stopped here to worship in the 8th century- pretty darn cool. These below, erected on the same site, are from the 11th and 12th centuries

I wish I could have adopted a more Christlike attitude when we hurried from our sightseeing to catch the train just to find out the train was 3 HOURS late- it was the only one of many, many trains going through Bologna that was retardo. I really did not want to get back home after 1am; managed to wait in line (yes, with the one window open) in an attempt to change our tickets- which I finally did- but not before shelling out another 50 euro and no guarantee that we will be refunded for the first set. So all those hours spent in the churches of Italy have done nothing for my soul apparently. Christ and Buddha and especially La Vergine would have had to cover their ears. I'm afraid I'm a lost cause and THAT night was a very poor example of my ability to "go with the flow." Poor, poor Rachel.

Ice and Cold, Cold and Ice

As you can probably tell, our Chief Blogger has been down for the count or preoccupied or reading or (occasionally) cooking for me, so she has been off her stride of a blog per day. Now I could have picked up the slack but that would require commitment (from me) and expectation (from you) and frankly, who needs that kind of responsibility??

We have been hibernating in this cold and "the most snow in 30 years" city we now call home. I venture out to the gym and the grocery store these days but that's about it. You skiers would think we are nuts- so close to the Italian Alps and here we are sitting on our butts (but then again we do the same thing in Seattle while many of you are off frolicking in the mountains- but jeesh the Alps??!) Our neighbors, Stefania and Alessandro often go off with their ski club on the weekends and 7 year old Chiara would put me to shame on a slope. But as I say in Seattle, and now here, wow aren't those mountains in the distance just beautiful?

Wikipedia says: Monte Rosa, also called Dufourspitze (in German, lit. Dufour Peak), is a mountain in the Pennine Alps. With its 4,634 m (15,203 ft) summit, it is the second highest mountain in the Alps and western Europe^[1] and the highest of Switzerland. Its 2,470 m (8,104 ft) eastern wall is also the tallest in the Alps^[2] and its western side is covered by the Gorner Glacier, the second largest in the Alps. The peak is located in the canton of Valais in the municipality of Zermatt. It is the summit of the Monte Rosa Massif, a range lying on the border between Italy and Switzerland and composed of several summits over 4500 metres.

Games, Games, & More Games!

I am writing this on my 9th day of illness...which pisses me off so much I can't tell you! I want to be enjoying my Holiday Season in Italy, not lying in bed looking at the 4 walls of my bedroom (yes I AM in Italy but still!). Having lots of time to dwell on many stupid things, I realized that we have neglected to inform you of our progress in both Cribbage and in Hollywood Gin. (We have also added a third game to our game repertoire- Bananas- that our good friend Deb so kindly gave us when Rachel was last in Seattle. We have not kept a tally of our Bananas scores but so far I believe Rachel has only won once- yes, only one time- out of many!)

The current score for Cribbage which we play each and every morning, in sickness and in health is:
Rachel-99, Kim- 62
This is pathetic on my part and I resort to all kinds of hexes, threats, and most recently, a note. (Rachel said she was a "visual" person and couldn't "hear" my threats and fervent desire for her TO LOSE...) So this was my answer to that but she refused to look. Then I had the idea of placing it on my forehead tucked under my glasses so at some point she would have to see it.

 

She finally saw it after I forced my head into her line of vision but damn her, she still won. (I would not allow her to photograph that but you get the idea)


So forget Cribbage, Hollywood is MY game (oh and of course "Bananas" now, too). But sometimes she gets a little too close for comfort, hence the flip side of my note:

 

In Hollywood the score is KIM- 232; Rachel- only a piddly 158 which if you do the math just proves that Rachel is really the BIG GAME LOSER! Ha Ha Ha.

additional Thanksgiving thoughts

A couple of thoughts about this particular Thanksgiving in Italy... we missed spending time with our family of friends in Seattle and couldn't sit down to a big dinner with our neighbors here in our tiny apartment. We were, however, so happy to know that all of you were safe and sound and had not been traveling to Mumbai, India. It is so difficult to celebrate a holiday when you know, across the world, so many are having the worst day of their lives. We also know that for many, including us, holidays are also a time when we feel our most personal losses so acutely.

But life comes with the bad and the good, tragedy and joy... no one gets away with only joy- and if they did, they may not recognize how truly fortunate they are having not experienced the other side.

For example, the day before yesterday, my personal Sherpa trudged a mile and a half round trip to buy us a turkey that I had mentioned I would miss. Little did I know that she also planned to buy up half the store and then carry it all back. (I had offered to go but she loudly refused my company- both she, my mother, and my daughter, for some reason, all have this in common. I can't help it if I whine when they take longer than 5 minutes in a grocery store...). Yesterday, despite the aching knee she incurred from her heavily laden trek and having to improvise all along the way because she lacked certain ingredients here as well as the desired pots and pans, Rachel still managed to make an incredibly wonderful Thanksgiving feast. A relatively small joy in the big scheme of things but something of a small miracle to me.

So remember to savor the small things when the world seems to be going to hell in a hand basket. All of it counts.

Orvieto pics

Are we EVER going to be done with that particular trip?? Jeez, we've been home for 2 weeks already... lets move on!! But apparently we are NOT done. The pics above are from the city of Orvieto...Il Duomo, door of Il Duomo, a sweet church, and a medieval cave. Soon we will post on our "lovely" train ride home and perhaps on our most recent transportation problems, too.

Saving the best for last....

Why, you may be asking yourself, do we have a picture of a mattress as the focal point when we are writing about our last evening in Lucca? And if you were to know that these were taken on a Friday night at 9pm, might you be even more curious? Allow me to introduce what was one of our most "interesting" and "educational" times spent in Italy thus far.

It all started when Louise had emailed us a day or two prior to our visit, saying she had committed the 4 of us to an evening at the local school for what she understood to be a "mattress exhibit" that would benefit her local walking group/club. Her neighbor said a certain number of people needed to show up and Louise promised her there would be four of us attending. Rachel and I easily related to Louise's comment in the email that she "thinks" it's some sort of exhibit but given her Italian and what gets lost in translation, half the time you don't really know what you've gotten yourself into. Til you're there, of course. Now THAT we could relate to...

At 9pm after a delicious home cooked meal, we all walked over to the school for what we had been calling the "mattress festival." We could see a big spread of food and drinks in the lobby and fortunately we weren't at all hungry (because all the food apparently was for later). We were ushered into a classroom (maybe 12 x 12') that had about 40 chairs and almost that many local people from the village already there waiting. There were a couple of sleepy kids with their parents, numerous older men sitting close in front, a contingent of older women in skirts, scarves and woolen jackets looking slightly irritated but present in the row behind us,

and in the front of the room on a wooden platform was, behold, THE Mattress.
And about 15 minutes later THE "exhibitor" (or as we quickly figured out, THE salesman) entered.

For the next 90+ minutes, (yes, really!) the salesman showed us all the marvelous features of the mattress featured above, the frame, and its innovative construction and the crowd-despite the hour and what was later revealed to be an exorbitant price- never once acted impatient or impolite. They knew what Rachel and I didn't, that the good turnout meant a 5oo euro donation to their club and they'd put up with whatever they had to for their cause. So with the locals bantering back and forth, the salesman talking so fast trying to get through his spiel- complete with anatomy charts and requests for volunteers, the goodnatured teasing of the "lucky" volunteer/fellow neighbor/good sport bed-tester (see what appears to be a dead man in the picture below)

and the coup de grace: a cell phone ringing in the middle of this people-packed room, its owner answering and having a 3 minute conversation at full voice as if none of us were there. (Even the salesman just stopped and stared at her until she hung up). She, of the Harley Motorcycle couple, probably had a friend waiting at the local bar... and post phone call, off she and the boyfriend went, stepping over the crowd, noisily exiting (see bighaired couple 2 pictures above). As Rachel so aptly put it, it was like an Italian version of "Northern Exposure" (substitute Italy for Alaska and maybe Wasilla for Partigliano, and you have the idea...). What a night! And yes, at almost 11pm we were rewarded by a stopover at the potluck table and boy were we happy to see all that wine!

And finally... We had such a good time with Louise and Dom and look forward to having them see our neck of the woods in the Spring. If you want to get an even better description of our time with them (mattress festival and more!) or if you're in the market for a home in Italy (theirs is for sale) check out Louise's blog http://abbastanzabuono.blogspot.com She is a wonderful writer and has excellent descriptions of their daily life in Italy as well as pictures and descriptions of their various trips to neighboring areas. Highly recommended- a 5*****blog!

All Saints Day/All Souls Day/Day of the Dead*

November 2, 2008

Yesterday we had a wonderful time at Alessandria's cemetery. It is one of our favorite places in town and yesterday, All Saints/Souls Day, we had a lot of company there. As a holiday honoring those "who have gone before us," there were so many people and so many flowers, it was amazing--so full of life. There were singles, couples and families- grandmas and grandpas with little grandchildren, teenagers and their parents, widows and widowers- all carrying flowers and plants of every kind. Not only were the graves flower laden and lovingly tended but throughout the catacombs, the numerous crypts in the mausoleum, illuminated by the soft glow of hundreds of candles were also absolutely lovely. There was a Mass going on outside of a little chapel on one part of the huge site, the audience primarily older women and a few nuns, but most people were talking and laughing among the tombs, carrying their gifts to their relatives.

Last week I had taken a Sunday walk through the cemetery while Rachel was having a lazy day at home. It wasn't a holiday but there were many families tending the graves and meeting friends who were there doing the same thing. I was so struck by one young woman, maybe only a teenager adorned in lots of metal in her lowslung black pants with a tattoo peeking out... scrubbing a gravestone, raking the plot, and planting flowers. The sight of her in the distance brought tears to my eyes. Later I casually walked by and noticed that the grave I had assumed was for a boyfriend or a brother or a sister, was not. Judging by the dates inscribed, most likely these were her grandparents so now I, of course, was shamelessly weeping.

* from a website: "How to Celebrate All Saints Day in Italy"
In Italy, All Saints Day is known as Tutti i Santi Ognissnati. (try saying that 3 times fast!) The Catholic holiday, commemorating the Saint Martyrs, is celebrated on November 1. The next day, All Souls Day, is set aside to honor loved ones who are deceased. Italians celebrate the two holidays together, both in association with the fall harvest which is reflected in the traditions of the day.

Step1 Begin All Saints Day the evening of October 31, All Hallow's Eve, by indulging in a traditional harvest feast. The menu includes the new unfermented wine from the year's harvest, known as Ribolla or Novello. (well we always have wine just not new and unfermented) Also eaten are roasted chestnuts. (Rachel will skip that) Don't worry about staying up too late (yeah right)--most places are closed the next day because All Saints Day is a national holiday.

Step2

Hide presents around the house for the children after they go to bed. In the morning a search will commence prior to visiting the cemetery. Children are told that if they behave well the souls of the deceased family members will remember them and bring presents. Children use the following traditional Sicillian saying to ask for gifts: "Armi santi, armi santi, Io sugnu unu e vuatri siti tanti, Mentri sugnu ‘ntra stu munnu di guai, Cosi di morti mittitiminni assai." The English translation is: "Holy souls, holy souls, I am one, and you are many. While I am in this world of troubles, bring me lots of presents from dead people."(I love that! Why do you have to be a kid?)

Step3

Celebrate Mass at one of the many Italian Catholic churches. (okay now we're on our way to light candles in Church per Rachel's orders) While some of the typically visited Catholic sights like the Vatican Museum are closed for the holiday, St. Peter's Basilica in Rome is open and hosts the liturgical service on All Saints Day. Following Mass, proceed to the cemetery to visit the graves of your loved ones. It's customary to bring offerings of fall flowers to decorate the graves.

Step4

Enjoy one of the many cultural festivals held across Italy. Many towns in northern and central Italy are host to truffle and chestnut fairs the first week of November. The week also marks the beginning of the opera season.

Step5

Sit down to an All Souls' Feast with family and friends. Foods made of peas or lentils, known as Soul Food, are eaten. (Rachel didn't know this when she started cooking today. She is making her variation of tabouli salad and also beets marinated in olive oil, garlic and balsamico with bruschetta. The stores are closed so no peas or lentils, god forgive us). Many homes will set empty places and leave the door open for the souls of the deceased. The feast is finished up by indulging in the sweet cookie known as "Ossi di Morto" or "Bones of the Dead."(now I'm REALLY sorry the stores are closed, doesn't that sound appetizing??)