While I was away

Rome is crazy, hectic; romans do well in this world, but I do not fit well up here anymore.
Life in Neverland goes on the other side of the globe and I miss it. Down there, it is an amusement park where you can be princess, mermaid, pirate or Indian. Whatever you want. Or first page artist. Few nights ago, the lost kids decided to do something different, to paint a friend's truck (also known as 'the tractor'). Please read the story on Jeremy's blog:
http://chasingmylife.blogspot.com/2008/06/samoan-mona-lisa.html

The event became a first page story, and the lost kids became heroes!
Here some line from the caption:
"Wanting to contribute to the 10th Festival of Pacific Arts, Tafuna residents Jimity S. Gulick and his friend George Carroll decided to paint Carroll's truck.... he told Samoa News in an e-mail...: 'It was a good day doing some art and we had a lot of fun too. Maybe other people can see this paint job on the truck and do their own for the festival....' Gulick said he wants to encourage residents to create artwork in the community for the upcoming arts festival".

Whoever sent the e-mail to the newspaper definitely wins the title of Peter Pan!!!

Victory!!!

I am back in Rome... bye bye Alps, it was great being up there for few day...
I am not bothering the reader with my 1000 troubles, but i want to share with those who personally know me and my history, and are wondering how things are in Italy, that yesterday I won one of my private battles in Casal Palocco! It is amazing the "mafia" here, but also how knowing the right people and wearing a sexy dress can help!!! My friend Ennio came with a plates of pasticcini and a candle to be blown for my first victory! We (4 of us) partied with 3 bottles of prosecco!!! This is me and my hero of the day, Fabio.

A great weekend

I knew it would happen. I love the island life, but there is something so fascinating and irresistible and recharging about the mountains that I find myself thinking again: “why am I living so far away?”. Maybe it is that the mountains and the family here has always be a part of my life, and I consider it reachable, ordinary. Instead the rest of the world needs still to be all explored… This is way I need to live this heaven to look for more.

I am sure I will probably retire in the Alps, I would love to be one of those old ladies working the land and enjoying the heat of the sun from my balcony… but I am still very young, and it is my time to explore now.

This weekend has been fantastic.

In these weeks there is a town party in Trento. By town party I mean a party held in all the main streets and squares that includes all citizens and anybody who happens to pass by. In Italy there are town parties organized everywhere. It is usually a revocation of an events (usually happened during the Middle Ages), or the coming to season for a particular kind of food (vegetables, mushrooms…the collections of the grapes to do wine….) Can be anything…

In Trento the town party is in celebration of the Saint Patron of the city (everything is Italy has some Saint protector, cities, barraks, people… (my Saint is Santa Barbara of course, and my “Saint day” – a sort of second birthday- is the 3^rd of December). For this occasion, there is a fight between the Jusi (the Jokers, like in the cards) and the Gobi (the hunchbacks). They have different fights, a very particular race on rafts down the Adige River, and a traditional medieval game held in the main square, that consist in a group of woman at the center of the square cooking Polenta, circled and defended by a human ring of Gobi. The Jusi try to break the ring to get to the Polenta. I got a paper that explained the rules of the game; it was very interesting to read how the women should be beaten if the polenta was not cooked at the perfection.

Town parties also mean lots of free drinking and eating in the streets, free concerts in the squares, plus markets, games… Saturday night was Trento’s “white night”, that is a night where nothing closes and nobody sleeps, concerts are held until 4.00 am in all main squares, and drinks and snacks are given free to everybody. Barbara, my brother’s wife, my cousin Lisa and I went downtown for the occasion… Trento, usually a very quite place on earth, looking just like a big metropoly. We met different times a group of cheering Gobi scrolling up and down the main road. The king of the Gobi, a man on his late sixties I would guess, was riding a 100 liters beer barrel pushed by other 6 Gobis. They were quite tipsy, distributing beers around. It felt home. It felt home being in a place without (known) drinking age limits and where streets and roads are meeting places where you can still walk around sipping beer and wine.

Leaving town early was hard, because we knew the party just started, but Lisa and I planned to go hiking the next day and we needed some sleep.

(why can't we have shops like this is Samoa????)

(earlier in the day we met some Jusi)

(Lisa, Barbara and I drinking in the street)

(the King cheering up the Gobis. He is sitting on a 100 liters beer barrel)

(Drink, drink some more... what a big beer glass!!!)

(Picture!!!!!!!!)

(Myself, on the right, playing with my identity thieft, the other Barbara. married to my brother)

(Note: I do not want you to think the italians are a bunch of drunk people, drinking everywhere at any age. Drinking in Italy is very social and accepted, being tipsy is ok, but being waste drunk is saw as something very bad and only kids do it. By the time you are 21 you are most often already a responsible drinker that does not pass the own limits. Being a woman and being drunk is terrible and socially unacceptable)

Leaving town early was hard, because we knew the party just started, but Lisa and I planned to go hiking the next day and we needed some sleep.

Sunday we drove to one of the tons of valley you find in Trentino. On my opinion, Trentino is the hiking capital of the world (New Zealand did a great job publicizing itself with this title, but after being there, I am even more convinced that Trentino is much better!). After 2 our hiking up the mountains, we reached the Rifugio. Hiking in itlaly is great because you do not need to carry with you all the weight of food or sleeping bags; scattered everywhere, the Alpinos (it is an part of Italian army) built Rifugios, small rocky mountain house where everybody is welcome to rest, sleep (in rooms with the most astonishing views!), get fed, try the local grappa and warm up.

We hiked for a total of 7 hours, we had an elevation gain of 900 meters, (700 m to the Rifugio Al Laugher, elevation 2608m, first built in 1882; 200 m more to reach the glacials). We saw marmots, drunk creamy hot chocolates, ate polenta with deer meet, walk barefoot in glacial streams… a great day overall! Views, smells, colors, sounds, energy, all is so refreshing! I could spend a life hiking in these mountains.

(The start of the hike)

(my cousin Lisa and I half way up to the Rifugio)

(Rifugio Al Larcher, first built in 1882, elevation m 2608, feet 8556 above sea level)

(Lisa with Gomma -the white dog- and Michele - the black one --the dog of my cousin Rossella that we were baby sitting)

(Lunch at the rifugio: Polenta, Crauti and Spezzatino... hum...)

And once back home, all ready to watch the soccer game of Italy again Spain. True, we lost at the extra time, but being there, surrounded by Italians (after that shock of being the only Italian for thousand of mile during the World Cup), was just priceless!(sweet dreams once home...)

In the Alps...

Old pictures from the Alps, it will tell you why i love this place sooo much!(on the top of Mt. Stivo)
(we walked along that ridge... it took us all day, and we got wind and snow at every peak! I was so exhausted, but i also really loved it!!!)
(hiking in the Dolomites)
(one day an american kid asked me if i ever saw a castle. I answered "of coruse", thinking that they are everywhere, it is quite impossible to grow up withouot seeing one. The i realized that the middle age was lived very differently in the States... So many things you give for granted when you wake up! No castles and bides in the US!! (what about Australia?)
(hiking in the Dolomites in the winter)
(the pyramids of Segonzano... they are very tall, taller than the trees!)
(Dolomites in the background a small typical village on the left...)
(my brother's village, Bosentino)
(my brother's house, before he restructured it -very old!!!! -centuries- house)
(Tovel's lake. Trentino is the region of the lakes, small alpine lakes everywhere!)
(this is the main square in Trento)
(I miss paragliding a lot! you can do this and so much outside sport here! This is the perfect place for those how love being outside. And much cheaper and sunnier and with more hikes than New Zealand! not to mention the food!!!)
(my friend Vicky taking off)
(my friend Loris, with the background of Garda Lake)

(sunrise from my brother's kitchen)

italian abroad

This story of a poor Italian abroad that I found cleaning the garage, brought back so many memories of when I was living in England.... enjoy it!

One day i go abroad to a bigga hotel. Inna morning i go down to eata breakfast. I tella waitress I wan two pissas toast. She brings only one piss. I tella I wan two piss. She say go toilet. I say you no understanstand, I wan two piss on ma plate. She say you betta no pissa onna plate you dirty sonna bitch. I donna even know lady and she call me sonna bitch.
Later I go to cafe. The waitress brings me knife but no fock. I tella I wan fock. She say everyone wan fock. I say you no understand, I wanna fock on table. She say you betta no fock on table you dirty sonna bitch. I fed up so I go back to hotel to sleep.
At hotel i find no shits on bed. I call manager and tella him i wanna shit on bed. He say you betta no shit on bed you dirty sonna bicth.
I go to reception and man say "Pease on you" I say piss on you too farter of bitch. I gonna back to Italy pronto.

A jump in the past

For the ones of you that are expecting to see tons of beautiful pictures of Italy in the following 3 weeks, you may be disappointed, as I am not here to be a tourist, but I am here to EAT. Well, at least 2 or 3 times a day, and doing some work only in the empty spaces between lunch and dinner.

(the buffalo mozzarella... perfection... note the drops of milk escaping has you cut it open... hummm...)

I love and avoid this country at the same time. There are many resident ghosts from the past that I can happily live without, but also, well, this bel paese is also so irresistible and charming! Pizza last night made me realize it.

The Europe cup is on: this has nothing to do with the Fijian cup, but it is a big event in which countries from Europe fight for the champion title on the soccer field. It is a very good thing for me, as I can pass if I just say I am “Italian”. You are Italian only during the World Cup, the Coppa UEFA, or the Europe cup, when the soccer’s games are on. Otherwise you are Roman, Trentino, or whatever the name of your city, town or village is. But since I do not speak any local dialect, neither I have any strong accent (a part from the pronunciation of the “R” that is purely roman), no one identifies me as part of his or her people. And I am left to fluctuate in a limbo space, without being able to say I am from a particular area of Italy. At least, when I am abroad, I can say I am Italian, and people are happy with that (they have no idea of how insignificant and general that word is!), but here… lets just say it is good that the Europe cup is on!!!

This also means that many squares have a huge screen mounted, and people gather there at night to watch the game. Since in Italy drinking age limits are not enforced (and most people do not even know the existence of it), and you can drink alcohol anywhere you want (no close areas of bracelets like in the States). You can imagine what wonderful town parties there are in the squares during the soccer games. Last night, on our way to the pizzeria, we drove pass one of those square, right next to the sea… I smiled with joy, and some of those painful memories and being alone in a small island when Italy won the World Cup sweetly vanished…

Pizza! Yeah!!! We sat around the table outside on the walkway, with antipasti, beers and huge pizzas. We could hear people singing, accompanied with a guitar, from the balcony above us, and sometimes we would sign a couple of songs with them. Then there was a car accident right on the corner of the street, and some of the people from my table went to see what happened: with the big white napkin stuck on the collar of their shirts, holding a beer in one hand and a big folded slide of pizza on the other hand. The two parties came out from their cars (one was a taxi) screaming, but once they saw those funny looking spectators on the corner, they calmed down not to attract more attention. Our guys asked to be bribed; they would work as testimonies and say whose fault it was. A foreign spectator would be shocked by all this (the crash, drinking beer in the street in front of the police, loudly ask to be bribed…), but in reality all that was done just for fun, no one was hurt, let just make of it a funny story to tell now. We were laughing like crazy at the table… Unluckily, none of the parties involved in the accident agreed to pay our pizza bill…
I can imagine something like that happening in Samoa too. Well, maybe Samoan are not that loud… I often say that Samoa and Italy are not that different after all… we both love food, family, having fun, are lazy, disorganized, corrupted but happy… so far the two main differences are: in Samoa I am a skinny girl, in Italy I am quite full; in Italy I am quite a normal girl for my age (a part the fact that I have a good, serious job), in Samoa people often express their sympathy when they discover I still do not have any child… About this, I truly, from the deep of my heart, suggest one single of you to go on this side and watch this video, as it is one of the best and funniest description of Italy ever!
http://www.infonegocio.com/xeron/bruno/italy.html

Anyway, you may wonder, what have I been up to these days?

The first day I went to visit my doctor. He is a pediatrician and he has been my doctor since I can remember. It made me think of an episode of “Friends” in which Ross was given a hard time because he was still seeing his pediatrician. I could never get why it was supposed to be funny, because I though it was totally normal. In fact, in Italy, you are given a doctor when you are a kid, and you keep him for the rest of yours (or his) life. He was also my brother’s doctor (now he moved in the Alps, so he changed to a local one), and of my parents. He was very happy to see me (I was very happy to see him too, considering that, even from Samoa, I often write him e-mails asking him for opinions). He knows everything about me since I was born, and even now, he follows my blog! Isn’t he the best doctor ever? Grazie Fabrizio!!

The first night I went out for dinner with Mara, her boyfriend Davide that looks just like Aaron of Samoa, and Antonio. I have known Mara since I was 15, we used to go horse riding together and spent crazy weekends in Regional, National, International show jumping competition. It was hard for me to stop agonistic riding, but I made that decision 10 years ago when I decided to explore the world, and I have to say that after all, even if painful, it was a good decision. (my loved one and myself kicking asses, we were winning EVERYTHING!)

Mara instead stayed, and she is now a great well-known instructor, and she still keeps on kicking asses at competitions! Antonio is her friend and student, which I meet in one of my latest trip to Italy. He is also one of the funniest guys ever! The two of them are my at distance angles!!! I just met Davide (and Mara, I totally pass him!!! Good catch!!!) We had bucatini all’ Amatriciana and penne with Cacio and pepe for dinner (in italy, you cannot just ask for pasta, you need to precise the kind of cut you want). It was the best ever (how is possible that with all those pigs, it is impossible to get some pig’s cheeks –guanciale- in Samoa???)! The night grow old with laughing and stories that would keep the king of “Arabian nights” awake for more than one thousand and one nights!

Yesterday, it was cleaning day. My brother Stefano (also known as Zaza’), drove down from the Alps to empty a garage we recently sold. The garage is very small, it is just amazing the quantities of crap it can hold! We throw away a fridge, some chairs, a table… I could not believe we were throwing all that staff! I could just hope somebody will find it and reuse it. In Oregon, if you wanted to get read of something like that, you just had to put it in the street with a “FREE” sign on it. In 5 minutes it would disappear in the house of some starving student, and you would have made his day. But here there is nothing like hungry students: they all still live home with the parents and are all well fed by mamma. And if they come back home with trash from the street, the dad will most probably hit them. Not that the anybody loves living home until he is 30, but the cost of living and rent is so high that it is impossible to make enough money when you are younger to be able to pay a rent all by yourself. Anyway, this means: hard “recycling”. There is not much I want to keep from the garage, a part my university notebooks and books. But I did also find so many treasures… Like a picture of me when I was 4, I looked just like my dad. And the stories I wrote during high school, probably during those never-ending classes of ancient Greek… in those stories, my friend and I, the heroines, were kidnapped in the desert by the sons of the sheik, or went to war with the Vikings… they are so entertaining that I spend the all morning reading them! I should soon decide how they will finish… it was such a jump in the past, in fantasyland!

The long way home

The long way home is not really that long anymore, since I am already leaving half way around the globe. I already flow north across 4 time zones coming from Samoa to Portland, and I only have to cross 9 more time zones, this time flying mainly east. The long way home although does feel long, because every mile I am closer “home”, I am also closer to so many ghosts from the past that I could happily leave without…

I wake up at 5:30am on Tuesday morning. The sun was already out, and I am so used to waking up with him that I could not go to bed anymore… oh well… I will pack…

At 9:00am, Liz, Biniam, Biniam’s sister, Biniam’sister’s husband and I squeezed in the car, with a large amount of luggage, and headed to Portland’s airport. We let Biniam’s sister’s husband drive (having the bigger man driving would save us some leg space), and it was fine for the first 20 seconds, until he said “wow, it is always fun to drive on the opposite side of the road! Just tell me if I make a mistake”. At that point we all realized that he is in fact from England, and that it must be a bit challenging for him to drive to the right side of the road…

It was during the car drive that I realized that Americans are very superstitious. Even more than Italians. This was the event that made me realize it: there was a long column of school buses on the right on side. The road was crossed by a rail road, and apparently all the school buses had to stop, one by one, in front of the rail crossing, open their door, close it and then they were free to pass. In Italy we do something similar when a black cat crosses the road in front of you. If this happens, you usually stop the car and wait for somebody else to pass you (in this case he will get the bad luck that the cat left behind, not you). The buses definitely were being passed by a large amount of cars… I am sure the both events (the rail road crossing and the black cat crossing) lead to same kind of accident in the past, but the Italians never dreamt to make it a national law, while the Americans did. Curious.

The flight was fine, I really have to say that Lufthansa are awesome to fly with. Especially because they quite often overbook and I always put my name in the volunteer list at the check in… this means that you volunteer to stay behind and leave the next day, in exchange of 600 euro cash, hotel, dinner, breakfast, and most importantly, one more day in Oregon with my friends! Unluckily, this time I was the last volunteer that they were able to fit in the plane… this is why is important to go and check in early!

The layover in Germany for the next fly to Italy was nice too… wireless, chocolate and free tea… the airport is… very German! They have special boxes where you can in to smoke ("smoke and go"), and people go around with bicycles…

Rome… Italy… I am here! A friend came to pick me up at the airport… it feels so weird, so foreign… it is not home anymore… it has been 10 years since I left it. The house where I used to live is rented to people I do not know, most of my friends left Rome and I have no more family here… But the smells, the colors, the noises, still bring familiar, sweet and sad memories…

Somebody once said: “home is not a place to go, but a feeling to have”… how true! I think I found my home between somebody’s arms and I am looking forward to go back there…

a weekend in Oregon -part 2-

Two more days in Oregon and it felt like if I never left. Being in Corvallis, surrounded by my old furniture, waking up with Liz and Biniam… everything it is just so sweet… They say I bring the good weather, so after a rich breakfast we went for a walk to Bold Hill. Today I saw my Oregon of green fields, flowers, forests, barns, Mt Hood… it is so rejuvenating! I will let the picture to speak by themselves…

And Indian food for lunch with old friends, those ones finishing their PhD or that just won’t leave… I cannot believe one day I will come here and I won’t know people…

It is only 4 hours time difference with Samoa, but I still needed to nap a bit during the day… soon I will have to add 9 more hours once I get to Italy… not looking forward to that!

Liz and I drove to Portland in the evening, barbecued some buffalo meat with Elly and Trevor, and had some good, overdue, chats…

This morning we (Liz, Elly and I) woke up early to pick up my cousin Mia that landed at PDX at 7:16am, and has a long layover before her next flight back to Europe.

We want to make her staying as pleasurable as possible. Plus, 4 woman unleashed in Portland streets… it did not happened for a while, and it should definitely be something to do on a regular basis.

We went straight down town to have breakfast, followed by a visit to one of the nicest bookstores in the States. “Extreme” shopping (that kind of shops that are outlawed in Samoa), a great hot chocolate and then to a SPA to get a facial, eyebrows, and pedicure… a true woman day! At 3:00pm we took Mia back to the airport, and Liz and I drove back to Corvallis.

I need to pack, get ready… tomorrow I will be flying to Italy too… I wish I could stay here longer, I wish my man could be here…