Life in Rome

2007-07-11T23:31:00.001-07:00

What is it like to be home? Um..the same as it was when I left. But really, I would really like to see you and hug you and share some stories in person. So, this Sunday July 15th you are invited to my house.

WHAT: BBQ
WHEN: JULY 15th, 3pm till late
WHY: Because I miss you
WHere: My parent's backyard

Oh, and please bring somethin' to eat and share with everyone. This is going to be fun.

Last days

2007-06-24T03:37:00.001-07:00

I don't really know what to say. Here I am about to leave a whole year behind. I have said goodbye and helped friends pack and move and now it's my turn. I don't know what I will say to all of you when I am home. I don't know if your life is different or the same. I don't know If I will live my life differently, or will seem the same to you.

I don't know if Emma and Greta know that I am going home and not coming back. Raffaella just sent me a text saying that she will "miss me to death." when I leave.

My friend from Finland, Marianne, just started dating a street pefromer from chile. He is a super-fly in a dramatic skit with superman. "We are professionals!!" they always say. They have competetions all over Europe, next week Barcelona. Eric and Mariann live in a tent on a camping ground out in Aurelia. They had bbq last night after a day at the lake. All of the crazy acrobatic fire juggling artists are dating very sensible level headed girls who are their managers or work some stable jobs. And they are all a few decades apart in age. We watched the fantastic 5 the other day. Taking them places, is just like taking children somewhere. They are hillarious and funny and love to be the center of attention and genuinely just love people. When I asked Mariannne what she loved most about Eric, "Because there is never a boring moment."

I think that is important in a relationship.

2007-06-07T08:59:00.001-07:00

My last days here in Rome are reminding me a lot of my first. The smells of the flowers in bloom the smelly streets and crowded metro people smells are bringing back memories. I like that I have lived through all the seasons here. Coming full circle to summer again makes my time here complete.

I have so much time to think. And read. And paint.

When Ruby left last week, we were all in tears. I think her leaving signified a chapter in all of our lives closing soon.

Much of my free time is spent on the beach. At Ostiense, Sperlonga, but mostly at Ledispoli with Irene. The sand is black and sticks to you. My arm looked like a bagel, oiled and rolled in poppy seeds. People are like Brusceta oiled and toasting in the sun. mmm.crunchy..

School is finished for Greta and Emma tomorrow, which means I get to spend the next two weeks at the pool from 10 am to 5pm with them.

Pools and Seas. Life is at full summer swing. The heat from Africa is supposed to hit Rome tomorrow. And Bush, is supposed to be here Saturday morning! He is clogging up all the streets in Trastevere for the weekend.

I miss you all!! All these changes in your lives, graduating and getting married, babies being born. I am ready to come home and I can't wait to see all your beautiful faces.

4 nights without a hostel....

2007-05-19T15:35:00.000-07:00

MUNICH: So far, our trip had run smoothly without problems until the bus never arrived for Barcelona from Munich. We checked the schedule for alternative routes: "WANNA GO TO PARIS?" Ingrid yells across the abandoned bus terminal. How weird that we could actually just hop a bus to Paris on a whim?

MILAN: We took the night bus here, to avoid paying for a hostel. People are quiet here, and people are more diverse, but it still feels like Rome. No as much Gucci as I expected. We bought lunch at the supermarcato and shared it with the pigeons and a gypsies in front of the Cathedral. Washed our hair and face in McDonalds. Went to a park and slept on the grass while our hair dried.

MONTPILLIER: Another night bus, decided this was on our way to Barcelona, and why not stop in France for some really good Pan au chocolate pastries for breakfast? Seemed to forget the problems of arriving at 4:30am. Sat on a bench as the add sign changed across the street, with only us to read it. Finally had breakfast three hours later. exhausted, we slept on a park bench again, taking turns. watching our stuff. We liked this city. Bright colourful and warm.

BARCELONA: Arrived at 5pm. No room anywhere inside the city. Once again, we were without a place to sleep. Tired of living without a shower, we found a swimming pool and showered there. Locked our bags in public lockers and walked around town. "I am tired of being homeless." I said. Sat and people watched the hip, trendy crowd parade around Catalyn square. Saw some amazing artists and street performers. Danced till dawn in a club where we befriended three French guys who were dancing like wounded birds. Caught a taxi to the beach and watched the sunrise over the Mediterranean sea. Jumped in the water for a morning swim. Realized everyone else was naked and drunk, and that you were the only one sober and clothed. Ate Croissants and drank cafe as we talked about Spain France and Italy. they invite us over for soufflé tonight. Saw the Park Guell and la Sacred famiglia before napping at starbucks and recharging your camera battery. Feel sick at the thought of one more homeless night before your flight home at 8:50am. Arrive at 2:30 am am and fall asleep at the airport. Wake up at 4:30 four thirty and realize you are at the WRONG airport. Arrive at the RIGHT airport at 6:30am.

ROME: Finally back in Italy realize you have no cash left for the €5 shuttle into town. Your bank card does not work in the only ATM and the company of course, only takes cash. You dump out your bags and collectively have €4 in small change. figure out how to take a bus to the end of the metro line for €1 each and then pay the other €1 ticket to get home. Never been so happy to take a shower and sleep in your bed. Sleep for 18 hours straight.

Among the famous

2007-05-13T23:03:00.000-07:00

"who are they?" Ingrid asked the bartender in a pub. She asked this in Polish, and he answered in Czech. We were clearly in the presence of someone famous.
"The plasic People...Come." He grabbed my arm and pulled us to the laughing group of old, aged faces.

So there we were, laughing and talking among the swirling cigerette smoke frothy beer and crazy grey hair. Pragues first psychidelic group.

"Did that really happen?" Ingrid asked? As we emerged from the warm dark

Plus Prauge Hostel

2007-05-11T01:19:00.000-07:00

It makes all the difference when you travel with an easy going, optimistic person.
There seems to be a lot of collegeish aged loud males from around the world in our hostel and not so many females. My backpack is getting heavier and I feel as if someone stole something it would be a relief not to carry it around anymore. ( I know I should not say this...) My new advice is make sure the outfit you are wearing when you leave fits in your luggage before you leave. Another thing, mixed room doorms with more than 8 beds are not so fun. Drunk Aussie guys do not make for a good night sleep.

pictures taken: 268
cities covered: 3
cities to go: 2
hotels with swimming pools: 1
hours on a bus: 28 1/2
number of helpful, kind people in Prague: 123,156,240
Rick Steve guides sighted: 12

Prague

2007-05-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

Full of beauty and layers with close-knit buildings and scatteed cobblestones just like Rome. Red roofs like Florence. Gothic Cathedreal like Vienna. Pretty much everything amazing all rolled up into one. With green bronze domes and the dusk lighting on the river.

We climbed the tower over charles bridge and took model shots with Ingrids new camera with the glam flash that makes your skin glow. Everyone else was snapping shots of the panoramic scenes, we were taking pictures of ourselves using the copper roof as our backdrop.

"I am so glad you like to take pictures like I do!" she said. We like to look through them all over and over and edit the ones that are not worthy to be shown. No boring slideshows in our pictures.

p.s. Do not go on more than a 2 hour walking tour. If you do, you will feel the need to break free and explore things on your own. This way you can lay in the grass, take pictures, giggle hysterically and take many breaks to eat in cafes, and relax by the river and talk to people from around the world.

p.p.s. Rent bikes wherever you go. They are an amazing way to get around a city and see everything faster.

Vienna

2007-05-09T01:54:00.000-07:00

Vienna is so much brighter, windier and rainier than Budapest. The people are dressed more smart city in light colors. MOMAK, Leapold,Albertina...these are some of the galleries we have been hiding in from the stormy weather.

There is the biggest collection of Egon Schiele at the Leopold. I have never seen his paintings and they are incredible. The feeling of the color the harsh, strong compositions. His houses are quirky and livable. I am inspired with black ink.

Exchanged some Forints for some czech crowns with red dreadlocks in our hostel. Everyone is flowing through the same cities in circles. Vienna, we read, is an intellectual cafe society of art and debates. I am happy that there is coffee everywhere. Expensive coffe, but good.

Germany is the place to buy shoes, or so I hear.

Budapest

2007-05-05T14:36:00.000-07:00

After riding on a bus all night long ... (are you mad? Raffaella asked..) we arrived on a fogy warmish smog of Budapest. The gothic spires of the parliment fitting the grey mood of the city. Caroine Ingrid and I made our way through the castle district through the palaces and lost our way down some stairs into residential mansions with lilacs, roses and rusty gates with irises. We watched normal families walk around on a lazy Saturday afternoon. We finally made it out into Old Town on the Buda side of the Danube. It is frusterating not to know a single word of Hungarian (I have heard it is realted to Finish) When I open my mouth it comes out Italian. Which if ithis were german, would help. I miss the Bars in rome on everystreet where there is sure to be cafe. Have yet to find good coffee. Tommorrow is renting bikes and sulfur Turkish baths and beef stew. Maybe some labrynth caves or hills if the rain decides to stop. Our hostel is warmly painted and pleasantly filled with incense, a hammock, dread locks, herbal teas and yoga. Monday night, we arrive in Vienna. I am re-thinking spain and portugal in july..I really want to go!

Gionicolo

2007-04-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

Stayed up all night to watch the Sunrise over the city from Gionicolo. It was pink and grey with hazy shades of violet. Maryanne and her class left Rome early this morning. We stayed up past when the street sweepers finished, past the clubs closing, past the river rats scrounging, until the bars opened for breakfast.

I feel like friends mean more here. When they leave, there is a bigger whole. I have about slots for 10 friends here, where as at home it seems to be more like 100. I don't know why this is.

Emma started calling me "Mela" instead of Melanie this week which I find really funny. Una Mela is an Apple.

Research so Far...

2007-04-18T06:12:00.000-07:00

This is what we have so far: a ticket to Budapest and a flight home from Barcelona. So far my research has consisted of Starbucks:

8 in Barcelona
11 in Vienna
7 in Munich

Must research: weather, hostels/couchsurfing, concerts, art museums, cultural stuff, and food not to be missed.

P.S. The last few days we have had flash lightening and thunderstorms in Rome. Reminds me of Mexico.

Bussing around Europe

2007-04-17T08:33:00.000-07:00

Caroline Ingrid and I plan to leave Rome on May 3rd and bus it to:

Budapest
Vienna
Prague
Munich
Geneva
Lyon
Barcelona

We are bussing instead of taking the train, becuase it is about half the price.
Then we will fly back to Rome on May 20th on a budget airline. yahoo!!

The tourists are here

2007-04-10T11:03:00.000-07:00

"I feel like all these people have invaded my park." said Maya. Parco Appia Antiqua, the giant park that Maya and I go for walks and do yoga in was filled with hundreds of BBQing, picnicking celebrating families on Monday. These are the times when I start to feel possessive of Rome and annoyed, which is silly becuase I have no claim on this country. Something snapped in the tourists industry last weekend. Easter, maybe. The tourists have arrived.

Easter weekend means 4 days of vacation. Shops close and everyone leaves for the sea shore.

I had the whole house to myself with instructions to water the plants and feed the hamster. Saturday night I went to an Easter candlelight Vigil at Sainta Maria Maggoire. I dripped wax on my skirt. The chior music caused my spirit to soar up to the shimmering Byzantine dome and swirl around the painted stars before coming back down again.

The window was open last night and the breeze blew smelled like a summer night.
I think I am finally starting to be homesick. I was suddenly lonely Easter evening and started calling people in the U.S. leaving early morning Easter messages."You really are one of those holiday people." said Jasmine. What can I say? Holidays were made to be celebrated.

The air smells like change that is causes the end of the year anxiety mixed with pure excitement for summer that comes right before finals. I feel the months and seasons pass more keenly here.

Irene

2007-03-25T06:13:00.001-07:00

Bright yellow Venezuelan chattering tropical bird. Always moving, always loving, always unassuming. Pina Colata. Long golden hair, Salsa. laughter. When she speaks Italian with her fast Venezuelan accent it is the most beautiful combination of language you have ever heard. Everyone loves her.

Two lefts past St. Maria square. is her cobblestone street in Trastevere. She knows all the store owners and greets them everyday on her way from school and work. The Massi Cafe is run by a family who loves her. The mom runs out and gives her kisses and hugs on the weekend. "The Nutella cornetti are amazing. You have to try theirs, they are amazing. Ruby and I go to sleep dreaming of our morning cappuccino and cornetto." Passion. She can convince you to love just about any piece of art, music or people.

My favourite corner and door in Rome is right before you turn to arrive at their apartment. At about 4 o’clock, the light hits it just right and the wall glows rusty orange again the slate blue door. I think also this if my favourite corner because I know I am almost there, almost to the apartment with my long golden- haired, Latin, life-loving girls

The British Professor

2007-03-25T06:13:00.000-07:00

"When I am on vacation, I like to do un-cultural things. When you go to a large city you are obligated to see things. Then I end up buying the book and learning about it. I don't want to do that while I am on vacation." Says Casper, Irene's Art history professor. We have invited him out to dinner along with Ambra, Irene's friend and classmate.

We are in Florence, Her class has a whole glorious weekend of lecture onsite (all about Michelangelo) and I have tagged along. I even take notes (can't help it) as if I were studying too.

Caspar tells us over our second plate, that he has been offered a position in Portland, OR. I tell him he might like it that there big open spaces that make people friendly and relaxed. I say it might provide an escape from all the heavy art and architecture of Europe. "But it is so far away London." he sighs.

That night in our hostel we giggle about the way all the girls take his class, and the way he folds his arms over his head so you can see the holes the armpits of his sweaters. We laugh hysterically about the ugly baby blue splotched walls of our hostel. "And this is where the renaissance began!" shrills Irene.

Exhausted and €50 poorer (due to museum entrance fees) We decide to take the cheaper regional train home. Irene suddenly gets this great idea to hope off at Orvietto and have dinner at her favourite restaurant. She also pulls out a water bottle filled with home-made spicy grappa made with peperocino she bought from a guy in Florence.

"Ambra! Melanie! We have to!...you need to live spontaneously!" She convinces us. We find a little grotto restaurant built into the mountain and leisurely eat an enormous dinner. We miss our last tram to the train station have to hitch-hike our way down the mountain with a pessimistic old man, barley making the last train to Rome. So this is living spontaneously.

Eros

2007-03-25T05:53:00.000-07:00

Maryanne met a guy named Eros--yes, as in passionate love. "He’s Greek?" I ask, "No, his Aunt teaches, Greek. He’s Roman." she says. I asked her if she has problems saying his name seriously. "Eros...Eros..." I try it out and start to laugh. He has taken her to dinner, a tea house, a hookah bar, and a romantic lookout spot. She met him in an international grocery store. “He’s wonderful,” She beams. Be careful, I say.

Christopher

2007-03-23T01:58:00.000-07:00

Christopher Eugene Cobb arrives on Sunday. And I am more than excited. In fact I have been running into people and knocking things over whenever I start to think about him coming because I am so distracted. And believe it or not that is unusual for me in Rome (to trip on the sidewalk and run into poles.) I think it is the pace of life. When you slow down and are in less of a hurry you end up with fewer bruises.

Amore

2007-03-09T06:27:00.000-08:00

"One ticket for THE MANUEL OF LOVE 2 please." I say to the man behind the counter. I realize this sounds a little sad. Raffaela told me that this film was "very beautiful." I am proud of myself for watching an Italian film with no subtitles. The seats are numbered at the Cinema and there is an intermission in the middle of the film. Rose told me when she first came to Italy, she thought the projector broke. I notice a lonely looking woman alone to my left and an older man alone to my right. I wonder about their life and if they are searching for love. I walk home humming the soundtrack in a sappy romantic haze. The city is dark and unusually calm. The background noises like clanking of dishes in bars, horns blaring and people yelling are absent. I open my arms wide to the breeze and spin in circles around puddles on the sidewalk.

***
Neighbours smile at the toddler bundled in the stroller with her i-pod and stare at me critically as I push the empty stroller home. (What has she done with the baby?) Parents at school are always friendly, always laughing, always chatting in fashionable circles of Prada Gucci or Armani. These parents with toddlers have more energy, look better rested and more put-together than me. I have figured out how to sleep in to the last second possible, if I zip my long black coat and slip on my tall black boots, no one can see my pink striped pyjamas underneath. I think about what I will look like as a parent in a few years and decide its all down hill from here. I reassure myself that these parents are 1) Italian and 2) almost all divorced and searching for love. And maybe it will be found while dropping off their children. I wipe something off Emma’s face and she kisses me good bye.

***
"Father October--he’s the cover." She takes a bite of her ricotta cheese caramel dessert. I look at David and Margaret across the table. "The hot priest calendar,” adds the friend from New Orleans, "is what you need to bring home for a souvenir." I took an enormous bite of my chocolate drenched profiterole. "Father February taking the Eucharist is sooo sensual," says the woman from Chicago, “I went to a catholic school, my first fantasy was about a hot priest.” (Mom please...) her daughter is embarrassed. David wants to know if there is a hot nun calendar. We tell me that there are no hot nuns. Margaret says she noticed that the nun in front of her in the park that morning shaved her legs. We contemplate this as we finish off the wine.

Cappuccino

2007-03-07T12:48:00.000-08:00

“Melanie! When did you learn to speak Italian?” Ugo asks with surprise.
Something just clicked and all of a sudden I was speaking what I wanted to say. And people understood.

Confident with my new found ability, I decided to strike up a conversation at the new trendy bar on the corner before I take the Metro to school. As I sip my cappuccino, I comment on the paintings on the wall and how I like the hanging lamps. He is looking at me funny. I try again. I tell him I live around the corner and am studying italian, but that I studied art at home. He tells me the artists are local and that the deep blue canvas remindeds him of waves. I say thank you and tip my five cents, he smiles uneasily and says have a good day. I run to the fifth floor of our buliding to grab my notebook and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. Something is all over my face. The coco sprinkled on my cappuccino had left a perfect semi-circle cupping my nose and cheekbones.

I laugh alone. Wish someone could see how ridiculous I look before I wipe it off.

**

The next morning completely embarrassed I made my way back to the same bar. “Why didn’t you tell me I had coco on my face? You have to tell me next time!” His brown eyes twinkle. I think he is about 28 years old.

He makes my cappuccino. “Vuoi cacao?” he says mischievously.

Yes. I did.

I pay at the cash register, he points to either cheek, and gives me a thumbs up.

My family goes across the street to Campagna dell Pane bakery to by their breakfast and so, I do too. But sometimes I walk by and wave when he is working.

Comings and Goings

2007-02-28T07:41:00.000-08:00

Here is the list of Social Traffic in the last few months:

Dec.14 Irene leaves for Venezuela
Dec.17 Ruby leaves for Porta Rico
Dec.19 Pernilla leaves for Norway
Dec.31 Shelly Returns to Rome from Israel
Dec.31st Kendra arrives from France
Jan.5 Melanie and Kendra leave to France
Jan.10 Melanie Returns to Rome
Jan.14 Pernilla Returns from Norway
Jan.15 Shelly and Amos leave for Israel
Jan.16 Maryanne arrives from Maryland
Jan.17 David arrives from Seattle
Jan.20 Maya returns from Israel
Jan.27 Ruby returns from Porto Rico
Jan.26 Irene returns from Venezuela
Feb.13 Joel and Mark arrive from Seattle
Feb.14 Margaret arrives from Seattle
Feb.14 Rose arrives from Tel Aviv
Feb.17 Joel and Mark leave from Seattle
Feb.21 Rose leaves for Tel Aviv
Feb.28 Margaret leaves for Seattle.
Mar.15 David will leave for Spain.

St. Valentino

2007-02-13T05:50:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is the day of St. Valentino. The last holiday was not New Years--Epifania. January 6th. This is the day where Befana (A scary witch on a broom) brings little Italian children a bowl of candy and sugar coal if you have been good and authentic coal if you have been bad. I think the story is that she missed Christmas, so she comes a week later. ( At first I thought someone had forgotten to put all the witches away from Halloween)

About Valentines Day: Rome is a romantic city. The city itself is romantic all year round, on Valentines Day or not. And in Italy, February does not represent the month of LOVE, (that would be all the months) It is the month of partying. February 20th is the official start of Venetian Carinvale, although the celebration seems to be all month long. Already there is paper confetti covering sidewalks and streets and vending machines with party decorations and masks. Small children are in costume for carnival games in Piazza Navona.

Tonight two friends from Bellingham fly in. And tomorrow another from Tel Aviv. Tomorrow we will celebrate Valentines day by meeting up at the Pantheon, eating the best gelato in the world while sitting by the Trevi Fountain. Sounds pretty romantic, eh?

New Year’s Resolutions

2007-01-30T07:41:00.000-08:00

"How did it go?" I ask in all seriousness. Raffaella plops the chicken on the countertop. She is in her Thai Chi outfit of black spandex. She Lights a cigarette. "The Madame said to me, this is not a dance, this is combat!" She demonstrates the "dance" she was doing in the kitchen. She said "Are you sure you want to pay for the class? Because I had the look on my face that I wasn’t going to stay."

"Last year" Ugo tells me, "she paid for a whole years subscription to a gym and went how many times, Lella?

"One." hand on her hip. blowing smoke.

***

"Apri le spale! Melanie!" (Open your shoulders “Risuca tua pancia bene!" (Suck in your stomach!) I too had decided to start the year of with exercise- Pilates. "Breathe in, breathe out." The teacher is a handsome Italian man of 50. He demonstrates the deep breathing by blowing all over my face. His breath reeks of stale tobacco. How Ironic, I think. The class is made up of round middle-aged Italian woman, a former ballerina and a gymnast named Francesco. I bring in my picture dictionary and we go over names of bones and muscles and body parts. He is excited to practice his English. This? "Heel," I say. He pokes my rib. "Rib-cage."

New Years Eve

2007-01-19T00:41:00.000-08:00

On New Years Eve, my friend Kendra flew in from France to bring in the New Year in Rome. My friend Serra was also with me and while we waited we decided what better way to celebrate than with--McDonalds. (yes! I am ashamed!!) But I tell you that fat juicy burger with salty fries and strawberry milkshake was the closest thing to home I have had in 5 months. We ate in silence with an occasional "mmmmmmm." "Better than sex." murmured Serra.

The three of us made an 11pm decision that we did want to fight the crowds in piazza del Popolo. "When else are we going to be in Rome on New Years?" said Kendra. "I want to see how the Romans celebrate!" So in heels with elbows linked we booked it up the river towards the piazza. 11:50 we ran up via del corso. Fireworks aimed off rooftops into the crowds below. screaming. Hundreds of empty bottles hurdling through the air crashing onto the cobblestones in a giant circle. No way to move. We ran through open space, seriously frightened as drunk people threw fireworks and empty bottles at us. Babies crying, ambulances coming. "This is like a war zone," Said Serra. .

And for some reason all the bars were closed. So with no champagne, and no midnight kiss we made our way back home. "Well..Buon Anno!" I say, limping because glass had cut in foot through the bottom of my boot.

Maayan and Hana-Christmas

2007-01-15T03:37:00.000-08:00

Maya: Israeli, dreamer, long thick red hair. Her wardrobe is bright and flowing. She has spent the last two years living in Thailand, India, Nepal and London. She wants to be an actress.

Over the holidays, we spent a lot of time together because all our other friends had left Rome for Christmas. One night, we went to an international Christmas market where Maya proceeded to speak to all the vendors in their native languages. "I know some Arabic," she would say or "Thailand!" and begin speaking in Thai. She somehow managed to get free stuff from a Roman boy (even though he was dating a girl from Lebanon.)

"Are you Nepalese?" she asked some Peruvians. By now, all eyes are on us. Maya is unaware of the attention. "I LOVE Nepal," she gushes, "I think it is the most beautiful country." She scares the poor woman who has only been here for a few weeks.

Some guy tapes us on the shoulder. "Hello," He says. "I am from Bangladesh." Maya begins to count to 10 in Hindu.

As the booths begin to shut down for the night, I am finally able to drag her out without men from various nations following us home. I am relived, she is smiling, dreaming of far-off lands. "Lets go to Cairo in February." Sure, I say.

On December 23rd, Maya and I were drinking tea in her kitchen when she jumped up and declared it the last day of Hanukah. We booked it to the nearest synagogue to light a candle, only to find out it was yesterday. She had forgotten Jewish days are counted from sunset to sunset not sunrise to sunrise. "Aren’t their any candles left?" she pleaded. "No." Said the man with a kippot on his head. "Are you sure you are Jewish?" he asked sceptically. I noted that outside there were three police cars, guarding the synagogue as they finished their evening Sabbath service. Maya produced her phone with Hebraic keypad. "Ah he said, so you are Jewish....Listen let me call my phone from yours so I have your number. What are you girls doing tomorrow night?" I think my mouth was hanging open at this point, I couldn’t believe we were getting hit on in a synagogue. "We have boyfriends." Came Mayas quick reply. "Besides, Shabbat is not yet over, and it is against the law for you to make that call." I thought this was about the best shut-down to any pick-up line I had ever heard. Once again, keeping the Sabbath day holy saved us a lot of trouble.

"I cant believe I missed Hanukkah," said dejected Maya on our way home. "I am such a bad Jew."

I assured her she was a wonderful Jew, and that we could celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas eve together tomorrow.

"Hanu-Christmas!" she said brightening.

We bought candles and food to make latkes and sufganiot, a jelly doughnut cooked in oil. She downloaded Christmas carols and the prayer you say as you light the menorah. I added the spices to our apple cider. We listened to Adam Sandlers Chanukah song. Then we turned down the music, and lit the candles together, Maya sang the prayer in Hebrew thanking God for the miracles in your life, and I opened up to Luke, chapter 2 and read the Christmas story. And as we finished, with just the two of us in the candle light, there was an overwhelming sense of peace and joy in that quiet and holy moment. The neighbors tree across the street flashed red and blue, casting color into the kitchen.

“Happy Hanukkah.” She says. “Merry Christmas.” I say.

We ate our modified versions of traditional food, over conversations of Roman Paganism, Catholisms and Christianity today. Hanu-Christmas was so successful we decided to combine the next holy days.

"East-over." says Maya.

Nonna and Barbie

2007-01-13T08:56:00.000-08:00

Nonna

“I am a TIGER!!" she says as we zoom through a stoplight. "I have been driving for 52 years ..I drive while my husband sleeps... ” At this point she raises her hands off the wheel to emphasis her point. I smile nervously. From the day I met Nonna, I was included as family clumped right in with her 6 granddaughters..( no boys) Our freezer is stocked by her sauces and meatballs. Sometimes after school Emma, Greta and I walk over to her house where we eat enormous amounts of food. “Cavalli” she said today as she heaped my plate. I know this word because it is one of Emma’s favourite games to play. “Neighhhhhhhhhh” she screams as she gallops through the house. Yep, thats right: horse meat. “Mmm,” humms Greta, “exquisito.”

***

“In ten years, Greta can come live with you in America and take care of your babies.”She says. “Ten years?” I say weakly. “Why not? Raffaella says. Her tiny frame folded on the chair knees by her chin, reaching to scoop up the butter juices with bread from the main dish. She speaks through her mouth-full of food. “In ten years you will have babies...you will be 31yrs old...Perché no?

I love the relaxed air of Italian table manners. You pinch salt with your fingers, serve salad bare handed, pull off peices of bread and dip it in the main dishes, AND (at least at our house) you can talk with your mouth full. You see mom? I fit right in.

***

“Come si dice Barbie in Inglese?” Emmas asks. “ Barbie is Barbie. It is English.” Says Raffa. You can see Emma’s 3yr old brain working on that one. I have never played so much with Barbies in my life until I moved to Rome. We watch Barbie movies with 12 dancing princesses. We dress up and dance along with the princesses. I draw princesses daily for the girls to color. And this Christmas Babbo Natatale brought Emma "Barbie Vespa" complete with her own hot-pink bike and matching helmet.

“I hate Barbies, but Emma loves them.” Says Raffaella. Usually Emma makes me play the boy. The dialogue on my end is limited, but I do know important phrases like, “Go, horse, Go!,” "Will you marry me?" and “You are such a beautiful princess!” (Which by the way is also a very handy italain pharse to know in real-life for all you lonely-hearted males...)

Napoli and the Pope

2006-12-28T05:23:00.000-08:00

Yes, I was supposed to meet the Pope with my friend Caroline and her mom Agnes. Something came up and I unfortunately missed the event. Its okay because I will have another opportunity. Anyone can pick up a free ticket for when these audiences are held. Afterwards rosaries are blessed, babies are kissed and hands are shaken by the Pope. Agnes said I didn’t miss much because this new Pope (unlike John Paul II) is a shy Pope, who doesn’t have the same charismatic energy when blessing babies and shaking hands. “Plus,” said Agnes, “He is German.”

I did make it to Naples, where Caroline was born. Napoli is…well….Chaotic. At the same time it is wonderful. Pizza comes from Naples. So do high crime rates. Many Italians are afraid of anything south of Rome. “Be careful,” they warn.

We walked through the market, past buckets of olives, fish and eels, bought some salami and ate some semi-authentic pizza. We admired the churches and architecture of the historical district and took advantage of the low prices on boots and dresses as we shopped our way into the night.

Dr. Nick, I looked for your people. I didn’t find them.

Buon Natale!

2006-12-25T01:34:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas Everyone!!
I love you and miss you! Last night, my family here and I skipped hand in hand to the Vatican where we were awed by the giant Presepe and Christmas tree. Then we ate a fabulous gourmet meal and opened presents. I am having a fabulous time and really, am not lonely at all. Today we are going to Raffaella’s sister’s house to eat more amazing food.

Tanti Auguri!!!! ( I think this means...Best wishes...)
Buon Natale!

Love,
Melanie

p.s. more stories to come about Naples, the Pope, and Hanna-Christmas..

week

2006-12-19T08:09:00.000-08:00

This week I:
++ received 5 Christmas cards and 2 packages in the mail.
-received a €100 metro fine for forgetting my monthly pass.
+/- Spent 4 hours protesting that fine and had it waved.
-said goodbye to all my friends going home for Christmas.
+++ finally have healed eyes.
+++ate a traditional Norwegian Christmas dinner of salty lamb turnips and spicy red wine...
++ ate about 50 Clementines.
+/-finished my beginning Italian course.
-was told by Emma (the 3 yr old) that I looked like Babbo Natale (Santa Clause) in my wonderful red coat.

Tomorrow:
I am going to meet the Pope,
and on Thursday I am going to Napoli....

Roman Hospitals

2006-12-10T10:56:00.000-08:00

“Washington…” The man at the hospital looks confused. He is having a difficult time typing in my information. “Stati Uniti,” I say. “Canada?” he asks. No, Washington State. Not the Capital, Washington. The other Washington. North of California on the West Coast next to the sea.” "California. he says.You are from California!” A look of recognition comes over his face...uh.Sure.

“Tanto rosso, tanto,” said Raffaella pointing to my eye. I am on the way out the door to church. A look of relief comes over her face. “It is better if you go to church and pray than to the doctor,” She tells me, "hospitals in Rome are not like they are in America.”

“Didja get pink eye?” Says Alistair, one of the art kids from Phili at church. I don’t know, I say. I go home and look it up on the Internet. Yep. Looks like it.

I sit for two hours drinking coffee and stare at the clock. Its raining hard and beginning to get dark. Suddenly filled with caffeinated bravery, I decide to brave it alone.

It is stark and cold in the waiting room. I open my dictionary and read all the Italian words starting with “S.”

I have a ticket with a number that says “Codice Bianco” which I think means not really that important. The doctor sounds congested and flirts with the assistant. He declares an infection drops something in my eye and slaps on an enormous patch. I stumble out the door (I have no depth perception at all) and think about all the people I wish were leading me home.

On the Metro, children stare and adults try very hard not to stare at the ridiculous patch covering half my face.

Ugo, the girls father, fortunately just left to fulfil the prescriptions for me at a night farmacia. Meno Male. What a night.

Snowflakes

2006-12-07T04:59:00.000-08:00

There is a furry of white paper snowflakes (and the middle-parts we cut out) all over the floor. We are making decorations for the windows. Greta gets ambitious and wants other Christmas things like reindeer and angels. And Jesus. And a manger. I had to cut Christ out 3 times before she was satisfied.

“She likes Jesus,” Raffa tells me. “I like him too.” I say. A postcard came in the mail last week showing a paintings of Christ on the cross with red blood flowing down. Greta was both fascinated and disturbed by this portrayal. “aghhhhhhhhh!” She says pointing to the blood. “Well don’t look at it.” Raffa says.

Greta plays Presepe at the neighbours house sometimes after school. At our house, the Nativity scene came from Kinder egg, and is cardboard.

***
I have been home the last two days, and it is wonderful. Drinking tea…catching up on emails and reading Vasari’s Lives. The forward explains the vexing problem of translators have with the excessive use of the word “beautiful” when describing art. I believe it, bellisimo, just doesn’t have the same affect in English.

I look forward to living somewhere permanently someday. I used to think it would be nice to wander the earth forever without things weighing you down like cars, furniture or children. But where would all my books go? I decided I want a shelf where all my books could be lined up together. And a kitchen with a red teapot.

I used to think that I wanted to live in a big city, living an artists life. Inhaling turpentine and drinking coffee while splashing paint around…like the bohemian lifestyle in Rent (minus drugs and aids.) But I really do want a house, not in the city, for the books and the teapot. And maybe that house will be in America after all.

Presepi

2006-12-06T05:57:00.000-08:00

Last night Pernilla and I took a stroll eating kebabs and pistachio baklava under twinkling lights dripping between the buildings between Campo de Fiori Piazza Navona. Stores are in full display of Christmas magic and vendors have doubled in all the usual places. Nativity figurines are everywhere.

Presepi—or a mini crèche nativity scenes are very common here, especially an 18th century version of Neopolitan life with extra street vendors and cottages to surround the holy family. You can buy electric waterfalls ( with real water), flickering fires and camels that chew. Last night I saw a stand where you could buy Roman columns and arches along with Roman soldiers to create a pleasant and peaceful backdrop for baby Jesus. In fact, it is popular (especially in Naples) to annually add the seasons most popular national or international celebrities to your nativity. This year there are World Cup soccer stars like Materazzi and Zidane. I read in a magazine that Berlusconi can already be regarded as an old classic.

Somehow, this all seems sacrilegious and irreverent to me, but maybe that’s just because I thought the nativity was supposed to remind us of Christ’s birth, that the Son of God, the awaited Messiah, had finally come into the world to conquer death and redeem humanity. Silly me.

P.S. This also reminds me of when my sister Johanna an I were little we added figurines like cookie monster or big bird between the Wise men and replaced Jesus with a peanut.

Three on a motorbike

2006-12-01T03:21:00.001-08:00

It is illegal to have more than two people on motorbikes in Rome. But you see it all the time. Moms and dads with the baby stuck in the middle. Three teenagers. Moms and two kids. Often, this is how Greta and Emma arrive at school. I am supposed to walk with one, and the other rides with Raphaella, but usually, there is a tantrum and both end up riding with mom anyway.

"Pizzi!!!!!" Piizzzziiii"!" We are supposed to be walking to school but the hamster, Pizzi, had escaped under the dryer. Greta, age 6, is lying on her stomach frantically calling and shoving a broom handle underneath the machine. I had heard stories from their former babysitter how Emma, age 3, had nearly crushed Pizzi to death with a book. "Nooo....!" I say and grab the handle, preventing Pitsi mush. "Shhhhhh" I said, and slowly, cautiously Pizzi emerges. Greta stands up, clutching the rodent in her fist, her brown eyes wide. "Che Buon Fortuna!"

"Yes, Melanie, " said Raphaella who had just walked in the door, "what good fortune!"

There is a beautiful road on the way home from school that is lined with dark trees with bright yellow leaves. They are great for stomping in. We stop and play everyday on this street after I pick them up from school.

I am so tired, I am not used to getting up at a quarter to seven. Every morning it is a struggle to get the girls up ready, fed and out the door.

Signora aiuto! Madonna santa...

"Are you sure you want babies?" Raphaella asks me often. "When I was 20, I did not want to be taking care of babies. I hated babies."

In the last 10 days...

2006-11-30T01:57:00.000-08:00

It was a big news here when Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise were in Rome to be married at a Castle in Lazio. The other momentous thing that weekend was that I moved.

I now live in Pratti, a very nice shopping district near st. Peters. I am closer to the city centre than in Monteverde.
I live with Raffaella, a recently divorced single mom and her two daughters, Greta, age 6, and Emma, age 3. Ugo, the Dad, comes over every night for dinner.

Divorce seems to mean something different in Italy than in the United States.
It is unfortunately becoming more common in this generation. Out of Emma’s 14 classmates, 10 have divorced parents. Fortunately most Italians live within walking distance of their parents house, so the son moves back in with Mom. It’s true. Ugo did.

Raffaella works at a bank. Ugo is a professor at a university in Milan. He lives in Rome, but commutes 2 days a week to teach Diritto Romano (Roman law). He wears light-blue converse sneakers and is very quiet--strange for an Italian man of 40.

The other night in the middle of dinner a priest dressed in white arrived at our door. He was making his annual rounds, sanctifying houses before Christmas. As he waved incense down the hallway, Raphaella joined in the prayer and tried to get her daughters too as well but the girls were frozen with their eyes wide, jaws open and spaghetti on their fork. The priest neatly checked us off his list before filling out a prayer card. "Oh, you and your husband are separated...” he nodded sympathetically with an air of holiness. “You must need help."

"Not his help," Raphaella said later as we were cleaning up the kitchen.

Thanksgiving

2006-11-27T02:46:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

My mom mailed me a lovely table-topper made of red and orange tinsel forming a tree with paper turkeys and pumpkins attached to the ends. Its quite tacky. My friends, Ruby and Pernilla made a surprise un-traditional thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. Pork roast with veggies, tater-tots, bread olives and salami. I was the only American there, and they made it just for me. They are so sweet. In response to their hospitality, I brought the indescribable centrepiece along with matching confetti.

Pernilla, wanted to know if the tinsel-tree was a n important part of thanksgiving tradition that all American families celebrated. Ruby, wanted to know what the heck it was, and Danielle, her Italian boyfriend sincerely thought it was beautiful. ( This confirmed Rachel’s and my theory that sometimes Italians think overdone, tacky or cliché things are beautiful.)

Rachel and I continued to celebrate Thanksgiving last weekend in Assisi, a hill town where we saw the church dedicated to St. Francis and ate some amazing food. Rachel is crazy about truffles. And Umbria has amazing Tartufi. We finished our visit by buying apple-nut raisin bread and some Assisi wine from a little man who was proud of the fact he had met Rick Steves.

Lingua Italiana Signale

2006-11-16T11:10:00.000-08:00

LIS--Lingua Italiana Signale. "Can you understand anything?" We are at an Italian church with a large Deaf population. I am squinting at the Interpreter. "Yes..sorta," I say. I am so excited to have he opportunity to meet some Deaf Italians! They are so patient with me and sometimes it takes 4 of us to communicate. For example, Giovanni (A Deaf Italian,) knows some English words and some American Sign Language. So with my limited knowledge of Italian and LIS we are able to communicate. When we get stuck, Gio asks her Argentinean roommate Margoli (who is an interpreter for the church) to speak the Italian word. Rachel repeats it in English. Then I sign it in ASL, and then we all sign the Italian equivalent in LIS. It is really crazy and hectic though because we are all speaking 4 languages at one time and it’s hard to concentrate on fingers and faces and use your ears. Some of you, probably are thinking, "but Italians already use their hands when they talk!" which is very true. Just imagine how extreme their Sign Language is. Crazy expressive.

**
"I really can’t speak any Italian, but the kids don’t know that." Miss Kelly confides. We are at an Ambrit (Pietro’s American/British school) BBQ, where all the families are celebrating fall with hamburgers and hotdogs. Miss Kelly is 28, from NY and has been teaching in Rome for 3 years. I am shocked. How does she manage living here outside of school?

"Five." Italian is my fifth language." This is the flower man across the street who daily waves and smiles at me when I walk Tempesta. "English, Russian, French, Arabic and Italian." He is from Cairo. “You live in Italy now; you must try to speak Italian." What he doesn’t seem to understand, is that I am trying. I tell him that maybe after four; the fifth language I learn will come easily for me too.

Seattle misses me.

2006-11-14T07:38:00.000-08:00

"Seattle misses you?" he said, leaning against the tray in front of him. "Yes," I smile. Seattle misses me." I know he meant to ask if I missed Seattle, and I do. The hum of the train and the darkness is comforting and I think of the rain, the unusual amount of rain pouring back home. November in Rome is unusually warm this year.
Next to me, his girlfriend is in deep conversation over Roman History with Rachel. I think they are talking about the Ara Pacis. The sound of their Italian has the familiar whine of Romanesque slang. It is nice to feel like you are coming home. When we were in Florence and Padua we experienced a smaller, cleaner, less hectic Italy. Rachel is giving a lesson on English "h"s. " hhhamburger." she emphasizes. "hhhotel. " "Trust me," she says, "Italians never pronounce their H's enough."

**
"So," I say, "what are you looking for?" My voice echos. I sit awkwardly in the sterile white apartment with their sterile white chairs and couch spaced too far apart for normal conversation. I am interviewing families, trying to find a new place to live.

Silvia has found a new Au pair, an Au pair who already lives (and drives) in Rome.

In the last two weeks I have had many obscure conversations planning interviews on my cell phone. I posted a couple of adds online and have received emails from Genoa, Tuscany, Venice, and Rome. Many are one or two line replies in confusing English.

Here is one of my favorites: " You would work 3 hours a day, never weekends. I need English mother-tongue Au pair to take care of my babies. kisses, --V." I am not sure If I want kisses from V.

The good news is I have found a great family near St. Peters Square. I move in Sunday. Raphaella, the mother of Grieta (6) and Emma (3) seemed very concerned about the fact there was no elevator in their building. (Do I look like I cant walk up stairs?)

**
There are changes in language school as well. Our new Italian teacher has long black hair, about 5 feet tall and weighs about 10 pounds. She jumps around and is excited about adjectives and verbs and sings songs to us. She is very good. I asked what the Italian word for confused was. "Confuso." she said with enthusiasm. "Confuso e felice." Confused and Happy. That is what I am.

Padova, Florence, and the Uffizi...

2006-11-03T12:31:00.001-08:00

Traveling is a a state of extremes. Either you are miserable because you are lost, tired and hungry; or you are extremely happy eating the best food of your life, surrounded by the most beautiful things you have ever seen.

Padova was both. Bright eyed and ready for a wonderful day trip, Rachel and I didn't think we needed to book ahead for our off- season Sunday morning train. But The tickets were all sold out and we ended up taking a later train, the tourists office was closed. So without a map, and no idea of the direction of the city center, we walked off aimlessly away from the train station. Confirming once again that a good sense of direction is a "must have" for future husbands. Anyway, we finally found the center and had the best Apple, Pear, Hazlenut and Pistachio gelato of our lives, fresh and amazing...and then we sat in a green square surrounded by cathedrals and university students playing insturments. Our ticket was at 7pm for the Scroveigni chapel where we saw the best portrayal of Jesus life and death I have ever seen. Both Rachel and I were moved to tears. I bought the book.

A little wiser and armed with a map, we booked our train tickets to Florence and the Uffizi ahead of time, and we decided it was worth it to spend the night. We found a great deal on a hotel discount websight had a little room with a wonderful view of the Duomo and all the flat red tiled roofs you see in movies and pictures of Florence. The sun was shining and the air was crisp. We spent the first day in the Museo dell Opera, and the Baptisty, and Santa Maria Novella, and wandered around and enjoyed the city. We bought matching leather bags that smell wonderful. A Milan-looking man with designer glasses and a long sleeved shirt with "who are these punks?" printed on the front, gave rachel a new hair cut with bangs. I have a picture of him up on facebook. We decided that the men (and women too) are nicer and more helpful and friendly in Florence and Padova than in Rome.

After a lovely complementary breakfast in the new breakfast room with a view, we spent the morning in more churches and booked it to the Uffizi at noon. (Did you know that Ufizzi means "offices" in Italian?) After the 3rd hour in the Uffizi, We took a little break and had a cappuccino and drew the bell tower (also by Giotto). We sat in the Botticelli room and discussed life. Needless to say by the fifth hour, we were giddy and delerious from such a high intensity of art. We ended up taking glamour shots in front of some Raphel masterpeices while a giant Japanese tour group hid us from the gaurd who warns you to take no pictures. I loved being able to recognize Giotto, Duccio, Cimabue, Martini, Fabrianno, Filippo Lippi, Pisano, Botticelli, Fra Angelico, Masolino, etc....all of the things I learned about almost 4 years ago in Italian Renaissance art history. So much more alive in life. When we guessed correctly about the creator of a work of art, we did a little song and dance that went like this: "Ma si, Ma dai!" Rachel learned this from her 10 year old girl she babysits. It means something like "oh yeah, come on!"

So anyway,I am still having a fabulous time. My Italian is still terrible. Its so hard to learn a new language! Some reason I thought I would just be able to pick it up...

Hadrian, Rachel, Art Nuovo and Etruscan Paintings

2006-10-19T07:57:00.000-07:00

This last week has been crazy busy!

Rachel has arrived ( hurray!) and we have eaten our way around Rome. Its great to have a friend who enjoys good food and art. I have been soaking up the immense well of historical information she has to offer. Ive learned about Garibaldi, the Ara Paces,( peace alter built for Augustus), the Emperors, Dynasties, various wars, and Greek and Roman mythical figures. Also details of important monuments like the Pantheon. " After a while," she says," you get attatched to certain monuments."

The Pantheon is Rachels top favorite building in the world. "I just imagine Donatello and Brunelleschi sneaking around studying the dome with the cows and sheep out to pasture. These colomns are monolithic and that stone in the original 2000 year old floor is made of porphyry!"

I have had three language lessons at Italia Idea. I never know whats going on. There are seven other students from Tel Aviv, Madrid, New York, Boston and Toronto. I think that I unconsciously make pained faces in class because our teacher, Filipo, keeps laughing when I am concentrating really hard on what he is saying.

Also, Zach and Jesse ( friends from Western) were here for a few days so we saw the Colosseum and ate some Jewish kosher pizza and walked around the Borghese gardens, down to piazza de spaigna, looked at the designers on Via Condotti and around the pantheon.

Via Condotti has all the designer shops, "just like a real live Vogue!" Sometimes, you even see glimpses of designers working in the windows on the floors above. One fall day, Rachel and I are going to dress up in our bubble skirts and boots and walk in all the stores. Rachel's skirt has pockets, Chanel calls this "nonchalant elegance." We are going to be nonchalantly elegant. Except I keep tripping, which ruins the effect.

The last three days We have been making our way through the four national art museums housing way to many Roman busts, sculptures, fresco's, and ancient parts of cities. I love the intricate mosaics and the etruscan paintings the best. We brought our sketchbooks today, and I sprawled out on my stomach of the museum floor, happily copying the blue garden frescoes made for Hadrians wife Livia. " I am going to build my house after Hadrian's villa, art nuovo and Etruscan paintings," Rachel said. She has it all drawn out and everying.

We are taking the train to Padova tomorrow morning to see Giotto's frescoes in the Scrovegni chapel. I am so excited. I have always wanted to see them!! Then we are taking the night train back (7 some hours)...so I can make it back in time for Italian class.

Church People

2006-10-15T08:24:00.000-07:00

I did eventually make it to that Church I was looking for, Calvary Chapel Rome. I have met some very interesting and welcoming people in the last 3 weekends:

Robert, warm voice, smiling eyes: "From the Congo, the very heart of Africa." he made a circular gesture in the air with is hands, "but, I was born again in Dallas, TX when I was in the military. Someone told me about Jesus. So really, that is where I started my life."

Linda: "Two years is the toughest milestone because that is when you decide if you re going to stay...or not." I thought about this advice in my head and compared it to college and relationships. How long have you been here? I asked her. "27 years , I went abroad for a semester in college and when the other students went I home, I just stayed. Could I stay in Italy forever? "Some friends back home tried to convince me to come back to the states. Try Washington D.C., they said, Its an international city, and should help with the culture shock." Linda leaned in like she was sharing a secret. It was awful. No one would look at you. Here you know, everyone is warm and welcoming. I did meet some wonderful friends at this little spirit-filled Presbyterian church and they come and visit me here every other year or so. But I love Italy its my home."

Sebastian, the tall lanky German: "Hello sister, good morning brother." He has recently finished his first Italian course and was stooping down ( because I'm so short) to tell me his newest phrase.

Hector: nervously taping his foot and wringing his hands. Just moved from Dallas to start some kind of engineer program.

Danielle, Sarah and Alistair: three artists who are here for a year from Temple, Tyler school of arts in Philly are here for the year. They are painters, along with two other roommates. I invited myself over for lunch immediately, wrote down all their cell numbers and then had dinner together the following week. I even snuck into Alistars art history class when they went on a tour of St.Peters. Their British professor was quite good, I am going to try to visit more on-site classes again.

Sometimes, there are people just in the city for a weekend and you never see them again. I kind of like that. Like the Australian couple I met touring the world with an around the world plane ticket. It. They have a ten month old baby named Lilica who will have more stamps in her passport by the time she is one, than most adults I know." She crawled in Switzerland, had her first desert (gelato) in Rome, and maybe will be walking when we hit Barcelona." Said her mum, who has waist length flaming red dread locks. They are assistant pastors in Castle Rock Calvary chapel in Rome and are opening up bible college in a building that used to be a 45 bed YMCA hostel. Anyone want to move to Australia? I have their email address just in case I ever happen to be in Castle Rock.

When I am big.

2006-10-04T10:43:00.000-07:00

The first night I was here, Nanni asked me a question at the dinner table. Pietro translated it into English, "he says what do you want to be when you are big?" When I am big.

I was impressed this grown-up knew I hadn't quite reached full size in life yet. In potential, in ideas or maturity.

"I need to leave the country", I told my painting professors my last quarter at western. What about grad school?
"I am not yet grown up," I had said.

When I am big. What will I be? I sat on an aqua duct and thought about it, my feet dangling over a forest. Then I pulled out my sketchbook drew a tree, the sun the mist. Then I pulled out my bible and read about wisdom.

Salt and Public Squares.

2006-10-03T07:14:00.000-07:00

There is so much art portraying images from Christs life around me here that I have decided to read through the gospels again. These are some things I can better relate to from living here:

Water--there is fresh flowing water you can drink on every steet corner here in Rome. Living water.
Salt--we salt everything here. Silvia salts it while cooking, we salt it on the table and salt it on our plates
Olive Oil---douse that with everything too.
Dust--Rome has a lot of dirt and it sticks to you when you are sweaty. Shaking off the dust of city.
Public Squares--children playing in the piazzas. People meeting in the piazzas. People protest in piazzas.
Walking--And then" Jesus decided to walk to"...wherever. We walk everywhere around here.
The First Christians--the church i finally found is little and meets in a small little room with people from all over the world. It reminds me of some of the first churches. Bible Study is held at a the house of a woman named Lydia.
Churches--Some of these ornate cathedrals I imagine where similar to the Synagoge where Jesus turned the money tables.
The Poor--all over the streets there are people who are begging for money who are old, blind and lame. People just walk by.
Villas--People go to the parks here to escape the city, the noise the dust.. I can understand why Jesus would go to gardens to escape the crowds to pray and be alone.

One Month

2006-10-03T07:06:00.000-07:00

One month.

So what are my thoughts after a month? I want to tell everyone that its easy to move away, ( there is nothing to it) you simply put your things in a bag, buy a ticket and climb on an airplane. You can do it too!

But its that sticking around that's tough. Its that day to day living and really seeing what is underneath the skin of a city, how it breathes and moves. ( Some moments I want to say "okay, done, time to move on to new exciting places...) But that I think, would be a cheap way out, a way to hop from event to event. Country to country on surface level.

I have so much time to think, and dream and really do some introspective thinking, which I suppose most people experience when traveling alone. And some days when I am here I simply walk to the park and read a book and draw all day. And I think, I am not doing anything special, but its amazing because I am in Rome.

I am learning that I don't know much at all. It is humbling to be the one learning things all over again. I am constantly failing in little things. like buying the wrong bread, misunderstanding situations, saying the wrong thing in the wrong language, leaving the lights on, missing messages from Silvia, answering the door instead of the telephone...getting lost.

Some days I am desperately lonely. Like those days where I am walking around the park and there are old friends laughing, families, lovers, children. And I want someone to laugh with too.

I think its a good thing to know what it means to be homesick, that deep longing in the bottom of your stomach. Some people (like my mom) say I need to work on compassion. Now, I know what it feels like to be far from home.

I am happy to say that after a month I recognize people in my neighborhood. And some people recognize me. Like the flower man across the street. At night, he sleeps in his stand. Ive seen him late at night walking home.

I am reading the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series by Alexander McCall Smith that my mom stuck in my bag before I left. I try to be observant on the bus and watch people and guess where they will go. Rome is very good for people watching.

But I want to do some people talking.--which is why I am excited that Italian lessons start tomorrow.

€uros

2006-09-30T09:53:00.000-07:00

Expenses so far:
€31 3 dresses
€ 8 skirt
€ 38 jacket
€ 16 sweater
€2.50 poster
€ 12.50 calenders
€38 5 shirts
€ 4.50 AA batteries
€38 souvenir gifts
€7 children's picture book
€13 on 8 postcards, a letter and stamps
€29 Italian language books\dictionary
€6 metro bus map
€26.50 art books
€40 art supplies
€48 monthly bus pass
€28 museum passes
€ 20 phone cards
€ 82.50 on 5 pairs of shoes ( yes, chris, shoes)
€10 sun glasses
€ 5 taxi
**unmeasurable amount of food and coffee.

Yay! There is an international feltranelli bookstore with books in English, Portuguese, Spanish..etc.. i found the travel section in English and read the lonely planet USA book. I read about seattle, and bellingham and eugene and Portland. Then i read the book on Rome, and found the bookstore I was in. ( just like village books, Aaryn)

Jars of Color

2006-09-24T09:35:00.000-07:00

I woke this morning ready to paint the market outside my window. After breakfast, Pernilla and I went to Gionicolo where you can see the whole city. I drew the city, and she drew me. After our morning of hard work we took the tram down by the pantheon and each ate three pieces of delicious oily pizza at the pizzarea. Then we went the art store, where you can buy pigment by the oz. I love the wall stocked with jars of color.

I saw a nun talking on her cell phone today (probably to her boyfriend) and also saw 2 drivers ed cars with a sign that says "Scuola Guida" probably the second worse job in the world--to teach people to drive in Rome.

***

"I am a genius." Yes you are, I say. Genius go finish your homework. Pietro hates, ( hates,) hates, writing out the written responses to his reading homework. “The questions are all stupido” and I have to agree, it really is a whole page of busywork. Art is his favorite subject. Today his assignment was a self portrait. He ran to the mirror with his colored pencils and I ran to the mirror with my watercolors and we both created genius works of art.

pictures!

2006-09-22T20:10:00.000-07:00

I finally uploaded some photos. You can view the two albums

here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2035516&id=25901423&l=731c9

and here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2033931&id=25901423&l=23965

Il cucchiaio

2006-09-21T00:45:00.000-07:00

“Bravissimo!” “Stupendo!” ahhhhhh!! “molto bella!” I was waving my hands in the air and yelling at the sky. I swung my feet against the wall. Pernilla, extremely embarrassed at my antics, pulled up her hoodie and glanced at people walking on the street behind us “shhh, youll scare the light away.” I couldn't help it The dark sky turned purple and white illuminated by lightening. Monteverde Vecchio is located on the tallest of the seven hills in Rome, so we had a fantastic view of the distant storm. We each had 100grms of dark chocolate in our fists, bought at the local grocery store, Pernilla had a coke, and I had cafe fresco. "How do you say lightening?" I asked. As usual, she didn't know the Italian, but offered the word in Norwegian. I told her from now on I was carrying a dictionary around so we would both learn more Italian. “Look, a pipistrello!” as something dark flew by our heads. Pernillas favorite word is "bat" in Italian. Mine is Il cucchiaio, which means spoon. I just like the way it sounds. We talked about God, sweet brown Norwegian cheese, our boyfriends and Frank Lloyd Wright, ( Pernilla says that he used to live in our neighborhood, just down the street,) We ended our night by exchanging currency, ( Some Krune have holes in the middle.) I gave her my empty cinnamon Starbucks gum tin full of change.

**

Have you ever walked through a book store in which you didn't know the language? If you want to torture yourself, I highly recommend it. La Feltrinellis is all over Rome, It has three stories of books and music, and a cafe at the very top where you can read and enjoy something to eat or drink. I wish I knew Italian...lessons start soon...

Bernini, Peru and Sundays

2006-09-19T08:55:00.000-07:00

The Borghese was amazing. Marble flesh is true. Apollo and Daphne did take my breath away. And of course, I loved the David with that intense face. I did linger about the Caravagios, Bonnie, especially " Madonna dei Palafrenieri" The Raphael I loved most was not the biggest or most recently restored, but" Lady with Unicorn" her eyes are intensely blue, and how can you not love her--shes holding a unicorn! note: It is good to go to museums with sarcastic friends, so you can whisper snide comments to each other about masterpieces. It makes it a whole lot more fun. It was still sopping wet when we left, so we skipped the garden, but I plan to go back and hang out in the garden (and bookstore) soon.

Cece, my British friend was supposed to have a dinner party yesterday, but as she says, her flat is "a bit skanky" meaning small. her terrace is bigger than the whole inside, and because of the weather it was canceled.

So about Sunday, i tried to find this church, but took the wrong bus and two hours later ( walking) I found out where they meet. Ill try again. What I did end up doing, was walking down via nazionale and ended up in a church at pz. del republica. large groups of people came in and left every 5 minutes or so and I heard the words “ forno, Signore, and confessionale.” The organ was blasting chords so loud and minor that my insides start shaking. To on my left there is a giant marble head of st. john the baptist, lying on its side grimacing, with a not so healthy looking neck. I look up above the holy water and some statue of a scowling saint, arms crossed, glaring at me.

Outside, i was relieved to hear people talking and cars honking and smell fresh air again. There was a row of people lined up with cardboard signs. I thought they were feeding the poor, but then I saw a business man pull out €4 and get a gigantic plate of chicken and rice. It looked, and smelled amazing, so I got in line. I pointed to what the girl next to me had on her plate, a salad with fish in yellow and orange cream sauce, onions and dried roasted corn. “ Do you like spicy food? “ The girl whose plate i was pointing at asked, "Its Peruvian.” It was amazing. I did not realize how much i missed non-Italian food, or someone to talk to. Of course, I was spilling the sauce down the front of my shirt. We smiled, and talked about Chile, Argentina, mate, Peru and coco tea. She was from Peru, living in Rome doing research a the hospital. She said that the church i had just been in had mass in Spanish on Sunday afternoons, and these women sell food that they prepare from all over South America. I don't know her name, and probably will never see her again. But we shared a meal together, a meal that came out of large plastic bags, eaten off of Styrofoam plates, standing on a wet smelly sidewalk in Rome.

thunderstorm

2006-09-14T13:23:00.000-07:00

One of the most romantic things I have ever done was run through an abandoned villa in Rome in a thunderstorm. We are talking full out downpour ( Amelia, I thought of you.) I ran under grape arbors and along white pebble paths in a t-shirt and flip flops. The warm rain smelled and felt wonderful. I stuck my head under a fountain and let it run all over my face as I drank in the rain. I let Tempesta jump in all the fountains.

I met up with Marquita (she says hi back to judy and david) and her granddaughter, April. We were caught in the storm, so we bagged the shopping, and grabbed some cappuccinos before we parted. We made plans to visit the Borghese gallery together on Saturday.

I don't think i am naturally skilled at leading people places or explaining directions ( in fact I rarely know where I am.) But I always manage to find whatever it is I am looking for, it may not be the most convenient or efficient way, and that tends to be a problem in a time crunch or in groups. It does make life more exciting living by intuition ( especially when your inner intuitive compass is broken)

Friends From Home.

2006-09-11T14:47:00.000-07:00

So good news! I am staying here with this family. I am so happy and relieved! Pietro will take the bus to and from school and I can walk him to soccer practice so the driving issue is all solved. Hallelujah!

The last few days have been crazy busy as my friends from Western are here. We have been doing important things like climbing the dome of st. peters and watching the sun set on the Spanish steps and touring the Vatican museum, and eating gelatto on the steps of the trevi fountain.

I had a great adventure last night. I ended up riding back to their hotel outside of Rome to swim in the pool, and the last bus stopped running before dinner...oops...( I spent the night on their floor ) Today was my favorite day. We started off with a cappuccino and hot chocolate in the morning, and then relaxed by the wall overlooking the river then strolled down an alley and watched brothers play a game of soccer in an abandoned piazza.

I noticed that I know longer wait for walk signals or walk in crosswalks. Here it seems, (Rose told me this before I came) that rules are "merely suggestions." Speaking of rules, we decided that it must be one of the worst jobs in the world to be the man who says "shhhhhh....no pictures....shhhhh..." in the Sistine Chapel. I of course took this to be merely a suggestion and took pictures anyway.

One of my new favorite games is picking out all the American tourists. Pernille says you can always tell by their shoes, and overdone hair and make-up. It is also fun to watch stilettos get stuck between the cobblestones.

We have walked all over this city, and I have figured out how it is possible to plan times and meet people without cell phones, and I know how to get to campo di fiori, piazza nuova, fountain di trevi, spanish steps, piazza venizia, and l argentina, pz st. pietro, the theatre, by walking, or by bus and tram.

I will miss Tanya, Evan, Jake and Andrew when they fly home tomorrow, I felt like I should be returning with them.
We meet one last time, for breakfast at our favorite cafe by the theatre tomorrow at 10:30 am.

But friends keep coming...I have a beloved teacher to meet up with this coming weekend, and I just received an e-mail from a friend i met in San Fransisco last summer and she will also be in Rome next week.

I thinks this is turning out to be a very good year.

Nora

2006-09-08T13:11:00.000-07:00

My first drawing here in rome was of a little girl, who wasn't even roman. I think that says a lot about children and about Rome. Here I am in a museum of a city, with Bernini sculpture and people everywhere, and my first sketch is a four-year-old red head from Norway, half Irish, living in Rome. Pernilla, my norweign friend, is her au pair. Sometimes we met up at the market and walk back to their tri-lingual house where we but away groceries and draw each others portraits. Nora, drew me as a princess in pink pencils. "Nora, how do draw such pretty pictures?" Her dad asked in his Irish accent. " just pick out all the pretty colors," she replied as she carefully shaded something pink. "There you have it, Pernilla, Just pick out the pretty ones and your picture will be pretty as well." I am convinced that i need a preschooler to really teach me how to draw and paint in freedom.

Nora has my picture, and I have hers. Its right over my bed.

I am learning Norwegian words almost at the same rate as Italian, and its all Pernillas fault.

Trastevere at Night

2006-09-08T13:09:00.000-07:00

After dinner, around 8:30 or 9pm, people go out in the piazzas just to walk and talk with each other. Camp di fiori and piazza Navona completely change at night. Hot sweaty tourists and the market turn into dressed up Italians eating dinner out or enjoying company with friends at the bars. Its still hot here, even at 10pm in the evening. Something else Ive learned: you don't invite people over to your house, you go out to meet them in the streets.

In Trastevere, where I live, the night life is full of young college age students. Pernilla took me out on my first night walk where we picked up her friend from Porto Rico named Ruby. She is a sophomore at AUR ( American university in Rome )

In spanish, large red letters proclaimed "I like Ruby" in an alley near her door. "Hey Ruby," I said excited, "Its your name! "Yeah, she said, "my Italian boyfriend did that." Her sociology assignment was to watch people in a crowed place. We picked Campo di di fiori. Then we crossed the River and sat on some steps in the by st. Maria in trastevere where a much younger alternative crowd was sitting, drinking and smoking all sorts of things.

Something else that is odd, is that I take the bus and walk everywhere alone at night. But everyone is out and about and so it doesn't seem unsafe or odd at all. Last night as I was taking bus 44 back to my house, I met an American couple at the stop. at the end of our 5 minute conversation about the bus schedule, I asked the man where they were from. "Texas, U....S...A..." He said loudly and distinctly. As If I couldnt understand him, "Are you local?" he asked "No," I replied, "I am from Seattle, WA." I refrained from tacking on U.S.A., but maybe that would help him because apparently he couldn't tell from our whole conversation that i didn't act, look or speak Italian.

Critters.

2006-09-08T13:01:00.000-07:00

One evening when walking Tempesta, I heard screeching and squawking in a palm tree above my head. I saw green and blue flashing in a flock of about 20 birds. I think they were parakeets. I had no idea there were wild birds of paradise in Rome. Silvia says she has heard about them, but never seen them herself.

Max the cat likes to drop things at your feet---like dead geckos. Pietro pointed one out on the terrace inches away from my bare foot. I squealed loudly in the dark, imagining my toes squishing the cold reptilian body.

Saw the Cat sanctuary in the ruins by the tram center Argentina. A long time ago, a bunch of cats were brought into Rome to take care of a rodent problem. Now they are all taken care of by volunteers who vaccinate, spayed/neuter and feed them. I learned on a tour that the cats themselves are all numbered and registered citizens of Rome.

I saw a giant rat scramble in the ivy and i see mice at the park in the bushes all the time, so obviously there are still some rodents to be caught. Its been hot and muggy so i am always wearing sandals. I hope that no mice will run over my toes. My feet are filthy at the end of the day.

Roman Driver

2006-09-08T06:36:00.000-07:00

This is what happened yesterday:

+++ate gelotto
+ 3:20 drove in crazy roman traffic to Pietro's school wtih slivia ( went well)
- 3:50 drove home with pietro ( missed some signs i didnt recognize, ran a red light i didnt know was for me)
- 4:10 got hit from behind by a large white u-haul size truck because i slammed on my breaks to avoid hitting a vespa.
- 6:00 pietro and i are dropped off, silvia leaves to take the car to the shop
-7:00 silvia decided that i better not drive, still deciding if I can stay anyway or if i need to find a new family...will know by Monday
++ate gelotto again
- cried very hard.

Thank you to Anna, Mary (love the clutch!) , Liz R. Chris, Erin and Liz H. for letting me grind your gears in your manual cars these past two months. You are all great teachers and I wouldn't be here without you! We will see how things turn out....

You have to be brave.

2006-09-04T12:44:00.000-07:00

I think you have to be brave when you are alone, and in another country. I am not usually shy, but being brave and extroverted not the same thing. I feel the need to be brave to say things loudly and incorrectly and the need to be brave enough to get lost and find my way back, and brave enough to be alone and have adventures. I have decided that although I like traveling alone, I really like having friends around when experiencing new sites and places. For one thing, I have no one to talk to about a shared experiences and no one to share photos with, or for that matter take photos with or have them take photos of me. ( i don't have a single photo of myself yet here in roma) And I know I will, but I have this sense of urgency, as if I was here for only a week instead of living here. I still cant comprehend what that means to be living here yet.

Have I told you about my beautiful terrace? Tonight I watched the sunset in a golden and rose colored haze over the city and st. peters dome. Yes, I can see it from our balcony. It is very beautiful right before dark as the lights turn on, and the sky is still pink. If you come to visit, i want to show you!

Pietro today decided to teach me more about all the important professional soccer players in rome. He is making a monopoly board and I was quizzed on names and countries of origin. I am not very good yet. I assisted in drawing faces though, and was told to "draw it more realistic" three times. I also learned a new Italian card came called Scopa. It means broom in Italian, and the Idea is to sweep up all your opponents cards.

Yesterday I was supposed to meet some students who just arrived from California on a Classical tour of the central area of Rome, but I couldn't find my way out of the gigantic Villa Doria pampili park and missed the bus. I ended up hanging out with my new friend Natascia. ( who was Pietro's Au pair last year, and is a teacher at his school his year) She taught me important things like not to answer the Italian men, and how to avoid dog poop on the sidewalks, how to use the trams, a bidet, and T9 ( hey, I never use text messaging!) We had a dinner party where I met her friends from all over the world. Spain, England and Norway--students, travelers and fellow Au pairs. It is so weird to not only try to decipher Italian, but Italian with Spanish, British and Norwegian accents. ( the Brazilian friend never showed up, i guess Brazilians have even less sense of time than Italians) It was great fun.

I think that the reason that Europeans know a lot of languages and understand more cultures than just their own is that they are so crammed together. It seems unavoidable to be tri-lingual. My Norwegian friend was asking why isn't the united states a bunch of little countries, she said she couldn't understand why it was one big united piece of land.

This weekend is Notte Bianca, which is a big carnival in all of Rome. Museums are open and are free until midnight and there are street performances and festivities in all the piazzas until 5:30 in the morning. Some friends from Bellingham ( Evan and Tanya) will be in town so It should be such a blast to hang out with them all night.

School starts for Pietro Wednesday so he is going into the country tomorrow for his last day of summer fun. Summer is officially over! Ah! Time for school and fall and responsibility!

First impressions

2006-09-02T08:29:00.000-07:00

Ciao!

I arrived safely in Rome yesterday without any problems, but I did have a lot of fun. From Seattle to Newark I met a family of 5, with three small kids. Since I was the only non-family member the their row, I heard extensive details about their personal lives. Steve, who sells dishwashers for a living, kept thanking me for listening to his children, but really, I should have been the one thanking them because when smoothie Skittles, gum and lollipops were handed out, I was fed too. And when coloring time came, I got to color Elmo on lots of pages with everyone else. Sponge Bob and Dora were watched on personal portable DVD players ( they owned three, of course) Really, it was a fantastic way to spend 5 hours on a plane. Nice old ladies waiting for the restroom complemented the parents on their "4 beautiful children." "Tell Miss Melanie thank you and goodbye." "Goodbye!"

My flight from Newark to Rome was exciting in a different way--I slept-- the whole way. I was seated in a group of college kids on their way to a semester abroad and I am pretty sure i drooled and snored, but hey-- Its worth it to be jet leg free! Silvia, my mom here in Rome, picked me up at the airport and gave me a giant hug. Pietro loved his football and shirt from old navy, and Tempesta,( the family flat-coated retriever) loves her old navy Frisbee. She has the sweetest temperament, and silvia calls her Temps for short.

We live on Via Regnoli, if any of you want to look it up on a map it is between the 2nd biggest park in Rome called Villa Doria Pamphili and a park called Villa Sciarra. Vila Doria Pampilij is huge, with fountains and statues everywhere. Yes, I did drink the water, Mary Asher! Its only been open to the public for the last 30 years, it used to be privately owned by the Doria Pamphili family, but the first week it was open all the ligaments and heads were stolen from the statues even though they are all just replicas. Even the copies here are pretty amazing. There is an exercise course around the giant park ( Percourse) where there are a series of planks and and bars to exercise on. We saw may tan Italians in tight shorts taking themselves very seriously as they bounced up and down on the playgrounds.

For breakfast this morning we had little panini loaves and Nescafe instant coffee which is actually good when you put some latte fresco ( milk) in it. Lunch is served closer to 2 or 3pm and we have dinner at 8pm. Nanni Moretti, Silvias former husband comes over every evening for dinner and to play with Pietro. They play soccer in his room and break things like lamps. I guess Nanni is a well known Italian film director here in Rome. Silvia translates books and will work at an art gallery opening in October, and Pietro is a very talented artist himself. He is very, very, very into soccer and has been teaching me about all the best Italian players in the world. He has drawn an entire book of them acting out what their best skills are, and a full page head shot with their team numbers.

Some other things Ive learned:
1. how to push a panel in the wall to flush the toilet
2. how to cross crazy busy streets without being run over.
3. how to explain that Tempesta is la femme and not an aggressive male doge worried Italian's ( the ones who dont have dogs seem very afraid)
4. that all the moms I have met do not shave their arm pits but legs seem optional.
5. that its sometimes nice to have no idea what people are saying.
6. that you grocery shop at markets everyday for meals
7. that time and plans seem to be irrelevant here, and things take a long time.
8. that I wish I had someone here my own age, a friend to explore with. ( Rachel doesn't come till October)

Well, dinner is ready and it smells delicious.
Ciao!