by Maureen | Jun 12, 2012 | France, Incredible Locations, Introspection, Italy, Journal, Nice
Journal Entry: Sunday, June 10 – On the train returning home to Milano after a weekend in Nice, France, on the Côte d’Azur.
My brain hit “overload” sometime yesterday (Saturday) in the language department.
I rode for three and a half hours with Miriam, who I did not know, on Friday, and we spoke Italian all the way to Nice as she drove. We arrived in France at our Bed & Breakfast run by a Scottish woman speaking English. We went to our friend, Glenda’s, house on her prenuptial night where we gathered with friends speaking English, Italian and French.
Miriam and I went back to our room speaking Italian all the while until we turned the lights out. We awoke the next morning, speaking Italian to each other, but English with our lodging host. Miriam and I wandered town, commenting in Italian for a few hours, then returned to our room and prepped for the wedding.
We left, picked up two other wedding guests, one that speaks Italian and French, another that speaks English and French. I speak English and Italian. Miriam had the clear advantage; she speaks Italian, English and French. All three languages flew around the car.
At the church, the verbal mix continued until the nuptial mass of two hours, which was said in Italian. At the small garden reception afterwards, I wasn’t sure which language to use with the servers, though my French is limited to about four sentences, but enough to ask for a glass of champagne.
The four of us left the reception, again with languages mixed and flying. I was responding to the Italian-speaking French woman, Michou, in Italian as she spoke her native French to me. We spent an hour driving and sightseeing, switching languages depending on the speaker and the listener.
Arriving at the wedding dinner, served by French, attended by Italians, with a few other nationalities thrown in as guests, my mind was in a mixed soup of sound until the celebration ended and we returned to our room at 3:00 in the morning.
Somewhere along the line late yesterday, my comprehension and command of Italian started waning. I wasn’t understanding a word that Miriam was saying and asked her more often than not to repeat what she had said.
Today, it became almost funny. She and I switched to English and talked about what I was experiencing. I realized that in the nearly one month that I’ve been here, I’ve occasionally seen a few Italian-speaking friends for an hour or two and have had transactional conversations when shopping, but have been alone for the most part.
This weekend, I jumped into 48 hours of continuous foreign language, adding French to the mix! And switching back-and-forth between the three, hearing and speaking, really pushed my brain to overload.
I also realized that, if I’m tired and/or hungry, my language competence quickly diminishes! Low blood sugar and lack of sleep do not improve my language skills. (Miriam even commented on the increased number of errors in my speaking.) I had “hit the wall”.
Another curious thing I noted was my resistance to speaking English because of being in a foreign country. I didn’t come to Italy or France to practice my English, but I recognize that sometimes my resistance to resort to English hampered communication.
After about lunch time today, we switched to English almost entirely, tossing in Italian only now-and-then. Our long drive home was made even richer by conversation because of Miriam’s greater ease with English than mine with Italian.
Grazie, Miriam, per la tua pazienza con il mio Italiano!
by Maureen | Jan 18, 2011 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Design, Featured Articles, Graphics, Introspection, Journal, Photos, Quips
Buon Anno. Tanti Auguri.
Happy New Year. Many Good Wishes.
L’anno duemilleundici.
The year two thousand eleven.
Vi auguro buona salute, curiositá e contentezza nel anno nuovo!
Un abbraccio affettuoso a tutti i miei amici.
I wish you good health, curiosity and contentment in the New Year!
A warm hug to all my friends.
– – –
Some would think, “Wow, you found that written on some old paper somewhere in Italy?!” No. It’s a Photoshop collage of close to 100 different pieces. The individual letters and elements were scanned, selected and imported from correspondence, meeting notes and report cards from Italy in the 1940s. While there, I became enamored of the old and very distinctive Italian handwriting and collected penmanship manuals and old journals.
The embossed seal is from a child’s report card. It says “Regno d’Italia“, the “Kingdom of Italy”. Italy was unified in 1861 and on June 2, 1946, it became a republic.
by Maureen | Sep 1, 2010 | Featured Articles, Incredible Locations, Introspection, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Quips, Seattle
I’m grateful for the little reminders of Italia that I encounter here in Seattle, going about my day. Names for cookies and chips. Old ladies wearing tavern jackets in the “pot pie” frozen food section. “Proud to be Italian” License plate frames. Even shrink-wrapped prosciutto piques my nostalgia, though it’s a far cry from having my favorite butchers slice it off the leg for me.
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by Maureen | Jul 30, 2010 | Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, People, Photos, Quips
How often do any of us put ourselves in the position to meet so many people in so many ways in so short a time? How readily do we open our lives to the touch of strangers?
I came here to Italy wanting to have relationships and experiences, and to gather images. I have done all of that in greater ways than I could have imagined and I now carry the faces of new friends with me. Their eyes, their voices, our conversations and our laughter will follow me as I leave this place behind. Most I will likely not see again. Some I may. But they have all become a part of my life by stepping into my days here.
Please meet some of the people I’ve met since January.
On New Year’s Eve I wrote about the new friends from my first six months here in Milano.
It is harder to leave them than I had imagined.
MARY – Italian. She’s 85 and has been working at the cemetery for 15 years. She works with the priest in the small chapel, preparing for the memorial masses. Her “Rotondo” handwriting started me on a quest for classic, Italian penmanship samples.
NINNI & AGNESE – Italians, from Sardegna. Dear-hearted, they own the Carlotta Cafe and serve memorable meals.
ANGELO – True Milanese Italian. My “History Buff on Wheels”. He showed me some of the one-lane farmland roads that have become my balm and my delight.
SARA – American. An artist, sculptor and creator studying fashion design in the Summer courses at NABA. Her work is poetic and rich and I anticipate very creative work from her!
MICHELANGELO & TERESA – An Italian and an American, in Venice. They’ve been married for 15 (or more?) years and are the only sellers of the most beautiful glass beads in Venice.
BRUNELLO – Italian. We had a freezing-cold bike ride together in the middle of January. Brrr!
SIGNORA ADA – Italian, and Venetian restaurateur. She’s an imp with a sparkle in her eye.
ALESSANDRO – Italian. He’d love to move to the U.S.
NICOLETTA – Italian. A WOMAN on the bike path! A rare sight, so we talked about it.
ERIK – Italian, with Sardegnan family roots. He served me octopus and potatoes several times.
EWA – Polish. My first independent, spontaneous friend here in Italy.
CLAUDIO – Italian, from Genova. He and his wife, Marina, hosted me for an impromptu city tour and lunch.
LUIGI – Italian. Industrious and resourceful, gathering firewood and compost along the canal to carry home on his bike.
MELTEM – Turkish. One of the “Aperitivi Girls”, we know each other through the Italian language classes.
SANDRA & MATIA – Turkish and Italian. Sandra and I met, like many others, in our Italian language class. With our interests in Art and Design, we have much in common. We traveled to Bologna together, with Matia, for a wintertime, city-wide Arts exhibition.
MAUREEN, BRUNELLO, NOEMI – 1 American and 2 Italians. Brunello and Noemi are with NABA, and there were several of us together at the Mayflower Pub, relaxing at day’s end.
GERRY & CONNIE – Americans. Goofy cousins visiting Milano for one night before they move on to Venice.
ANAIS & HER FRIENDS – French. Anais and I were in Italian language class together. Her friends came over for the weekend to celebrate her birthday.
ASHLEY – American, from Chicago. She’s studying photography at a school nearby.
CARLO & VICENZO – Italians. Dressed like jailbirds and co-guests at an impromptu aperitivo.
ROBERTO – Italian, from Milano. He was our beloved and silly Italian teacher. He made the 3-hour-a-day class a kick-in-the-pants. We all joked a lot.
MARIA – Italian. We met at an ONAV gathering and enjoyed an animated conversation. She’s a dear.
CESARE, MAUREEN, ROBY, VALERIO, ANTONIO – 4 Italians and an American girl. I was surprised to find that I had been seated at a table of men at a wine-tasting event.
NINO – Italian. His oil paintings are exquisite and two of them will hang in my home in Seattle.
MARCELLO & RAFFAELLA – Italians, from Bologna. The three of us have an American friend in common. That bond alone opened their door to me. They invited me in and we talked for hours. A lovely couple offering cooking tours of Italy, through Bluone Cooking Tours.
TANIA – Italian. Leader for NABA’s Fashion Design Program. A fine, bright woman that I’ve only caught a hint of.
EARL & MATHEW – Americans. Long-time family friends, here for a whirlwind tour of Italy and lots of pizza and pastries.
MARINA – Italian, from Genova. We met when I bought hat forms from her at the antiques market along the Naviglio Grande. Later, she and her husband hosted me for a day in Genova.
EMILIO – Italian. A friend from my cycling community.
FEDERICA – Italian. A fellow student from the wine-tasting class.
EUGENIO – Italian. The teller from my bank.
GIUSEPPE – Italian. Another ONAV wine-tasting student.
THE APERITIVI GIRLS – French, Australian, Turkish, American. We are linked by our Italian language studies and have gotten together once-a-month or so. We speak in multiple languages at our table.
HASSAN – Iranian. A fellow language student.
KERYN – Australian/New Zealander. Another of the group of women that meets for aperitivi now and then. We traveled to Verona together for a weekend.
LOREDANO – Italian from Veneto. He’s a painter with a studio along the Naviglio Grande. If you scramble a few letters of his name, you get “Leonardo”.
ZIBBY & HANNAH – Americans, daughters of friends back home in Seattle. We had less than 24 hours together, but they were full of conversation and curiosity.
MAKO & QING SHENG – Chinese. We ate our lunches side-by-side, then strolled the antiques market together, 2 Chinese and 1 American speaking Italian, our common language.
THUSHAN – Sri Lankan. Our “portiere”, Thushan keeps our office/apartment building running smoothly.
MARIO – Italian. One of the regional heads of ONAV, the National Organization of Wine Tasters.
ROBY – Italian. “My favorite bartender”, which makes it sound like I’m always at the bar… but he hosts many of the student social evenings at his Mayflower Pub, so I’ve been there a number of times. Or sometimes, when walking by, I’ll stop just to say “hello”.
MAURO, SANDRA, MAUREEN, SANDRO – 3 Italians and 1 short American. My landlords and a friend of theirs, all from Sanremo on the Italian Riviera. We were in Monaco for the day.
ROCCO & GIANNI – Italian. ONAV wine tasting students. One night, class was getting out very late, close to 11:30 at night, so several of us left early to head to the subway before it closed. Gianni had a nice red wine in his glass still, so he walked down the street, into the subway and onto the train, sipping his red. (Never in the U.S.!)
OZDEN – Turkish. Another friend from my Italian language classes and one that joins the group for aperitivi.
SALLY – American. A dear friend and art lover from Seattle that came for a visit and “Maureen’s Eye View” of Italy.
SALVATORE – Italian. Comically stereotypical while trying to “score” on the 2-hour train ride. He said it was a hot day and that’s why he was unbuttoning his shirt down to his navel. Yeah, right.
VALENTINA – Italian. Another friend from the ONAV wine tasting class.
MAUREEN, QUENTIN, BEATA, PAOLO – 2 Americans, 2 Italians. We met at NABA and ended laughing through the evening and planning a cycling tour of Italy for the future.
OMAR – Italian. Omar sat next to me in the ONAV wine-tasting classes and speaks a bit of English. If I didn’t understand what was said in class, I could glance over at Omar’s notes and see if I could understand what he had written.
PIERO – Italian. We saw each other a couple of times along the street and exchanged a nod and some music.
by Maureen | Jul 20, 2010 | Church, Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos
It would have been impossible to leave Milano without saying “goodbye” to Mary.
Our first meeting is a story in itself, finally happening last March after much anticipation. We’ve seen each other a few times since then, meeting in the little office behind the cemetery chapel.
Today I showed up in the afternoon, after the typical Italian lunch break, with red lilies in-hand for Mary. I found her at the altar, preparing everything for the next Mass. She lit up in surprise, and immediately went into the back room to split the lilies into 3 vases: 1 for either side of the altar, 1 for the Madonna.
She’s the sweetest, and implored that I NOT move away from Milano. But as I’ve told her before, I have family, friends and work back in Seattle that pull me there, so I must go. Don’t think she didn’t try to convince me to stay though!
We sat at her desk and talked for a long time. We exchanged mailing addresses and I told her that, with the computer, I can call her for free. She was thrilled.
She rummaged through the cupboards, wanting to send me home with gifts. She found a bottle of Muscat sparkling wine produced by the friars, a bracelet with pictures of 12 saints, a rose-scented rosary, a little bottle of holy water and half a dozen copies of the photo of Don Giuseppe Gervasini, Milano’s very own protector. If I carry his image with me, he will protect me from all harms, she explained.
Mary also gave me a couple dozen pages on which she has written, in her “rotondo penmanship”, the names of the dead being honored at the chapel masses.
Father Francesco came into the office a few times. I had met him in my previous visits; during the last, Mary asked him to bless me for the answer to my prayers.
When we finally said our goodbye, I said “first, an Italian kiss, then an American hug”. We kissed on both cheeks, actually several times, then I gave her a big hug goodbye.
What a dear, dear lady. Meeting her has been one of the great treasures of my time here.
by Maureen | Jul 14, 2010 | Featured Articles, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos
My “History Buff on Wheels“, Angelo, went rolling past me along the canal this morning. In a cycling daze and not recognizing him, I nodded and said the usual “ciao” as one cyclist to another. Mere moments later, he pulled up on my left, took my pace, greeted me and commented that it had been a long time since we had seen each other.
“Angelo! Ciao!”
What a great surprise to see him.
It had been January 11th, a very cold day, when we had ended up riding for 3 hours together, and all that time he had given me an historic commentary on Italy, Europe, the wars and politicians. It was Angelo that showed me the little back roads through the farmland that I have come to cherish so much. It was Angelo that first took me to Cascina Femegro, where I now go for the fresh ricotta cheese I savor.
Today, we rode for a half an hour together, all the way back to my place. We stood out on the walk under the scorching sun, talking about more history and geography, language and dialects. What a pleasure. We said a warm goodbye, but hoped to see each other another day on the bike path before I go.
“Ciao, Angelo!”
by Maureen | Jul 11, 2010 | Introspection, Journal, Quips
This is not a scholarly blog with a foundation in formal Art or European History. I’m the first to admit my ignorance in those realms. And on the web, one can find formal information and imagery on just about any topic. I have no desire to regurgitate what’s readily available out there, although I do provide links now and then to informative sites.
Rather, this is a collection of sometimes-knee-jerk, sometimes-thoughtful observations and responses to having plopped myself down in Milano for a year. I write about the jaw-droppingly beautiful, the quirky and questionable, the forefront, the frustrating and the fulfilling.
Living here is “the stuff of dreams”, but it is not “glamorous” as so many seem to believe. It is daily life in a place where they speak a different language and do things differently, all against a backdrop that sometimes takes my breath away from either beauty or cigarette smoke.
I write about ants in my kitchen and hardwater in my pipes. About an old lady in her pajamas on New Year’s Day, and an old man gathering fire wood along the canal. There’ve been stories about feeding fresh ricotta cheese to farm cats, buying old linens at the flea market, and eating pureéd rabbit livers and raw meat.
This blog is simply about what catches my eye, my mind and my heart. It is increasingly populated with stories of the people that have stepped into my days. I’ve filled my mind with enough imagery to inspire me for a lifetime.
This is no movie set. The Lombardia sun is usually obscured by haze. The winter was interminably gray. There is “dog do” on the sidewalks and no one else to handle the details for me. But the struggles have been authentic. The food is remarkably unlike an Italian restaurant menu in the U.S. The people have been slowly responsive. And I’ve started to “talk with my hands”, especially when in an animated conversation in Italian with a friend.
Having been here now for over a year, and facing an imminent departure and return to The States, I feel mixed and wistful… and deeply full.
by Maureen | Jul 7, 2010 | Featured Articles, Food!, Franciacorta, Incredible Locations, Journal, Meals, People, Photos
The grape varieties and resulting wines here in Italy are numerous and quite different than in the U.S. What better way, then, to learn about the wine I’m drinking than to take a wine-tasting class. After attending intensive language classes last winter, I figured I was ready to enroll in the preliminary class series offered by the Organizzazione Nazionale Assaggiatori di Vino (ONAV) – the National Organization of Wine Tasters.
Some of my Seattle friends have joked that the class was a bunch of people sitting around drinking wine. “Hey! How do you like this wine?” “It’s great. Pass me the bottle!”
No. It was a series of 18 lessons, 2 per week, from 9:00 in the evening ’til 11:00 or so. It was held across town and I usually got home on the subway after midnight. (I started the class in February.) The course content was very technical, including discussions of chemistry, cultivation and fermentation processes, wine types and their characteristics, defects and regulations.
And all of this was in Italian. Each session was taught by a person with a different expertise… and a different manner of speaking. On good nights I understood 80% of what was said. (At least I think so.) There were a few nights when I may have understood only 10 -20%. Most lessons were complete with powerpoint presentations, charts and graphs. What I couldn’t understand by listening I could understand by reading. I felt I was learning more than I knew before, even though I didn’t get it all.
Most evenings, we had 4 wines to taste, being given a small sampling of each but not even taking the first sip until about 10:30. We used a complex table to judge each wine for its visual, olfactory and in-the-mouth characteristics, tallying a score for each wine on a 100-point scale. We judged on clarity, tone, intensity, frankness, fineness, harmony, body, persistence and overall ranking.
Taking the class did change my understanding of and appreciation for wine. And it probably spoiled me for drinking “cheap wine”, though here in Italy I can get a pretty nice, very drinkable wine for 4 or 5 euro. ($5 or $6)
When the class was ending in late April, we were told to prepare for the final exam. Yes. A final exam! I considered not taking the test; after all, I had attended the course simply for my own interest, not to become an official sommelier.
Having convinced myself to take the exam, I then considered taking the test in English, an option offered. But no. I took the 10-question short essay test in Italian. I had to understand the question; know the answer and know how to say and write it in Italian! We then had 5 wines to taste and judge; our judgments of the wine were expected to fall within a few points of the ONAV judgments. (ONAV was serious! They had several versions of the test. We had to sit with an empty chair between us. And we had to remain silent.)
I passed! It was a little, personal triumph.
Last Sunday we had our diploma ceremony at the beautiful Ferghettina vineyard high on a hill in the Franciacorta region east of Milan. Our class was joined by classes from other locations of the Lombardia region of Italy for one grand celebration.
Not having a car, I could not have attended without the kindness of my classmate, Giuseppe, letting me ride along with him and Alessandro. Once there, we met up with Federica and Valentina from our class.
Rocco and Gianni were also there, as were other classmates.
Our names were called out individually and we went to the front to receive our diplomas.
Afterwards, we were treated to Ferghettina Brut, along with typical meats, cheeses and breads. On that sweltering hot day, a tour of the winery’s cool, underground “cantina” was a refreshing break, and fascinating.
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Ahh, nice and cool standing next to the 2008 Franciacorta Brut.
After celebrating with our other ONAV classmates, the 5 of us headed off in two cars to a place that Federica had heard about. It was a laughable, roundabout tour through the countryside of Brescia trying to find the agriturismo, Cá del Lupo. We enjoyed a light lunch on the terrace: Alessandro, Valentina, Giuseppe and Federica.
Alessandro.
Valentina.
Giuseppe.
Federica.
It took much hemming-and-hawing to decide whether to go walk along the shore of Lago d’Iseo. We consulted the GPS to figure out how to get there and how long it would take.
Lago d’Iseo is between Lago di Como and Lago di Garda, nestled in the ring of mountains to the north.
Alessandro and I goofed off at the cartoon characters on the lawn.
I spent my very hot Fourth of July at a winery, a farm and a lake, with 4 dear people I hardly knew. We had a wonderful time and laughed a lot. One of more of them may end up on my doorstep in Seattle some day!
by Maureen | Jul 6, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Incredible Locations, Journal, Meals, People, Photo of the Day, Photos, Sanremo
Last Friday, after my whirlwind morning in Genova, I continued on to Sanremo for what was likely my last visit with my “landlady” Sandra and her husband, Mauro, before my departure from Milano. I had visited them a couple of times in winter and at my departure then it felt as if longtime friends were bidding “arrivederci“.
It was hot even in Sanremo, which is usually milder than the inland. Sandra and I sat in the cool of the house, and later on the porch swing, covering every topic from food and family, to health, spirituality, friendship and life approach. (Not bad considering it was all in Italian.)
Mid-afternoon, it was time to start dinner: homemade Sardenara and Focaccia, carpaccio of Tuna (thin slices of raw tuna), and insalata di gamberi e rucola (salad of shrimp and arugula).
Sardenara is specific to Liguria, the part of Italy up north and west along the Riviera, approaching France. You can’t quite call Sardenara “pizza”, but rather a focaccia pan bread with very specific ingredients. Sandra made a dough of a specific semolina flour purchased especially for this recipe. A friend, Angelo, had shown her how to make this.
She rolled and formed the dough into the square baking pans, then set them aside to rise.
After the dough had risen, Sandra selected one pan for a simple focaccia with coarse salt and olive oil. The finger indentations in the dough, and more than a splash of water (!) poured on top before going into the oven, were two secrets important to the recipe.
Next came the very simple, yet specific, Sardenara preparation: a base of peeled, cooked tomatoes; taggiasche olives, local to the region; salted anchovies; garlic cloves, olive oil, oregano, coarse salt, water.
The Sardenara cooked up to a half-inch thick bread with a wisp of tomato and the pungency of olive and anchovy. It began our dinner.
Mauro, Sandra’s husband, was hungry and ready for dinner.
A perfect summer meal, begun with fresh Sardenara, and followed with a simple salad of arugula and shrimp, and tuna carpaccio. All light and delicious for a hot day.
Sandra and Mauro’s friend, Sandro, joined us for the meal. We had all spent time together in the wintertime, (including our trip to Monaco and a meal of Sandro’s special pureéd rabbit liver sauce over freshly-made pasta). He dished up the tuna carpaccio, which had been doused with fresh-squeezed lemon juice and olive oil. It was fantastic!
The salad was dressed simply with lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper.
Dinner was a lovely time with my new “old friends”. And the making of it was as much a part of the pleasure, as was the conversation throughout it all.
by Maureen | Jun 30, 2010 | Discoveries, Journal, Quips
“Allora…”
I hear it all the time, and I did 2 years ago when I was here… so much so that I asked about it. It’s the Italian “umm”, the bridge between thoughts. The pause. The word that says, “give me a minute”. It’s the drawn out “wellllll…”
Every language has these words so laden with function, if not meaning. It’s just funny to hear them so clearly.
(I suppose that if you don’t speak any Italian this post means nothing to you. But if you do, you might be chuckling to yourself in acknowledgement right about now.)
