Why I Could Live in Sicily (A reason besides the food)

I have done the impossible. I have found a group of people who is colder and less tolerant of the cold than me. Colder in the sense of bodily temperature, not lack of friendliness. Sicilians are the some of warmest people I have met insofar as personality is concerned, but are not adjusted or adapted or willing to do so to the cold and will not tolerate being cold for any amount of time. This fact I found out because I am here in Sicily in November, a "cold" month for the island oasis of the best food on Earth. It's been raining all of Italy, and there's a bit more nip in the air here, and there was especially last night after leaving a movie theater around 10:30pm. We returned home and prepared to meet a cousin's friend for a birthday champagne toast at midnight. It was decided that we'd take the motorino to the piazza, and I was warned to bundle up. I put on my light scarf; I was promptly told this was not enough and was wrapped with a (super cute) wool scarf. Bene, I thought - I had previously had a very cold experience on a motorino in Padova that I was eager not to repeat. After being warned again to dress warmly, we went downstairs, put on our helmets, and climbed onto the motorino. We drove literally two blocks, parked the motorino, and met the friends. All of that worrying about being cold on a 5 second motorino ride? I didn't even have time to properly judge the temperature, much less die of the cold. And I, for the first time in my life, made fun of someone else for being cold. It was at this moment that I finally felt justified...to all of the people that have made fun of me for being cold all my life, there is a people who is colder than me. There is a people who is colder than me and I think I might just join them.

Sometimes trust is a good thing

Place that we stopped where they make gondolas

The last time I was in Venice I met a gondoliere. I knew a lot of the Venetian history that he was telling us and I guess since I spoke Italian, he took a liking to me. At the end of the gondola ride, he gave me his number and told me to call the next time I came to Venice. I thought at the time that I was going to be doing two other tours of Venice, but both were canceled and I was without a reason to go. This week my friend came to visit from Rome. She works six days a week for the English edition of the Vatican newspaper, but it was All Saint's Day and the Day of the Dead, and for the holiday she had two days in a row off. We went to Venice on Wednesday and I thought, why not call my gondoliere friend? The worst that could happen is he not respond. I texted him on Monday. He immediately called and told me that he wouldn't be in Venice Wednesday but would get busy finding another gondoliere (one I had met on the same ride) to take us around. He gave the other gondoliere my number and we arranged to meet at 11:00 at the Ferrovia. The entire time I was thinking we'd have a gondola ride - and since I didn't know these people well, I was worried it might be that they'd take us for a ride and then charge us. But sometimes you have to risk it; in the world when people tell you not to trust, sometimes you have to trust. We met the man at the Ferrovia at 11:00 like planned. In his own private red boat. And for the next four hours, he took us through all of the canals and back channels, showing us Venice through the eyes of  a Venetian. We never once stopped at San Marco or Palazzo Ducale, and we only glanced at Ponte Rialto, yet this was the most beautiful Venice I ave seen. He had brought us both identical books about Venice in English, and after getting scolded for not dressing heavy enough, he covered us with fleece blankets that he brought for the cold. We first went through his old neighborhood near the Jewish ghetto and stopped at the church of San Nicola, one of the oldest church and the namesake of the famous feuding family Nicoletti (who fought against the Castellani family). The church was ornate and decorated with gold - it reminded me of the Pala d'Oro in San Marco, but small and quaint at the same time. Apparently it was a hot spot for Venetian weddings, but does not do them any more. After the church, we stopped at a place where they make the gondolas. He showed us the wood and told us about where it comes from in Northern Italy, and then proceeded to explain how each piece was carefully placed and how this shop is better than the shop down the canal that used to make the Ferraris of gondolas until the man died and now his son is a good-for-nothing lazy craftsman. We then drove out to the Rialot, where he pointed out his neighborhood near the Pescaria, as well as the house of the last doge and the former (skinny) residence of Doge Dandolo, my favorite (look up the history for why - he is the MASTER of vendetta and I admire a person who can stick it to 'em). We then went back up to the Jewish ghetto and lunched at a small trattoria where only Italian workmen were eating - we each got a primo (pasta with cream/asparagus, penne al pomodoro, o pasta con ragu') and a secondo (brasiola aka pork, sarde fritte aka fried sardines) and a heaping plate of spinach. When I picked up my sardines and bit the head off, I was told that that is NOT the way ladies eat fried sardines. This was followed by a lesson of how to delicately eat around the bones corn-on-the-cob style. Vino was obviously also a part of the lunch. We followed the meal with a visit to the kitchen and another giro di Venezia in the boat. All the while, our gondoliere was pointing out facts and saluting every person on a boat or a bridge that we passed (he was obviously the popular type). We finished speechless, saluted our friend, and proceeded to Piazza San Marco, which was strangely dull and less enticing. After a day of the living, breathing Venice - a Venice that is not longer seen by anyone but Venetians, I finally think I can say I have been to the city and that I have fallen in love with it. Lesson of the day - sometimes you can trust people.

My Favorite Sky in The World

Last weekend was our first tour of Rome. It was sooooo great to return to the city in which I first fell in love with Italy. The weather was beautiful, the people and sights and food are always beautiful. I stayed with the wonderful Giuseppe, Carlo, and Francesco (i miei amori) the first night, and then in a hostel near Termini. We did the Vatican the first day, the Colosseum the second day, and the Trevi/Piazza di Spagna/Pantheon the second night. It was amazing being able to share something I love so much with 20 new people who had never seen it before. I slept way too little to be awake as much as possible, but it was worth it.  My favorite part of the weekend was being reminded of my favorite sight in Rome - the sky above the Colosseum. I don't mean the Colosseum wth the sky in the background, but the sky with the Colosseum in the front. I have never seen a sky as blue as this in my life - and every time I go back when there is a sunny day it strikes me and I am left breathless. It is always the same, brilliant blue with no clouds and is absolutely my favorite sky in the world.

First Tour...Success! (i.e. Venetians are not always jerks if you show interest)

Free Hugs near the Ferrovia

This weekend I met Andy in Venice and we lead the first ever Weekend Student Adventures' Venice tour! We began Thursday night with three, by Friday morning had five, and by Friday night, nine. Eight girls and one guy - all wonderful and super fun. We had a great weekend - strolled through the Rialto, San Marco, and Palazzo Ducale, caught a vaporetto to the exterior islands and watched glass blowing in Murano, and ate delicious pizza and a three-course dinner (side note - finding a decent restaurant that does not serve overcooked, precooked, sick nasty food has been the most difficult task in planning a tour in Venice because of its extreme tourism). However,

Rialto from the gondola at sunset

the most pleasantly surprising part was the Venetians themselves.  Venice is known for its rude and cold inhabitants, quick to point you in the exact wrong direction and make fun of your accent. However, I was greeted by the contrary. Example 1 Oeople were giving out free hugs next to the Ferrovia (main train station). Example 2: Galleria San Marco. We went to the elegant glass shop Galleria San Marco to watch a glass-blowing demonstration. The visiting of a Murano glass Gallery is known as an expensive, prestigious endeavor, often reserved for those interested in spending hundreds or thousands of Euro on hand-blown Murano products. We were bring students, however, who were hard-pressed to spend five Euro. After visiting the gallery, I began speaking to the portiere about how I noticed the differences in his dialect and Italian and how I was interested in the Venetians as a people and as a culture and as a history. We talked for over an hour, and finished our discussion with him giving me his number and inviting me to call him any time I came to Venice and he'd personally take me to show me the "real Venice" and exterior islands.  Example 3: That night we went for a gondola ride - I chatted with the gondoliere in Italian, pulling out random Venetian dialect words, about his life and the history of Venice and the ride ended with the same - him telling me to return and call him whenever I would like so that he could take me and any friends on a gondola ride. Example 4: I went early to the restaurant where we were having dinner in order to finalize arrangements and ended up listening to the proprietor's stories about his jobs, his obsession with white bedsheets, and his garden. Andy joined us part-way through and we finished the night with free coffee, two free bottles of wine, one free caraffe of spritz, and a free contorno. My point is not that you should be nice to people because you get free stuff, but that if you show interest in people and who they are what makes them them (family, culture, and language/dialect), they show interest in you. Take the time to learn a language and a culture and the world becomes so much nicer and so much more piacevole :) C'e' un'opportunita' che ti aspetta - ciappa!!

Paris, the City of People Watchers

Last week I visited one of my closest friends from Tampa who is living in Paris for a few months. It was a great visit - she worked during the Thursday and Friday that I was there while I walked the city and sight-saw, and during the night we went for delicious French dinners of fresh baguettes, duck, desserts and wine. The first night we saw the Eiffel Tower in all of its hourly sparkliness, and the second night we witnessed the moon hanging gently over the Louvre. Paris was beautiful, and lives up to the hype. However, it wasn't the Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame Cathedral or the Mona Lisa that struck me the most about the city. The most striking and most "French" part of the Parisian scene were the cafe's that were on every corner. I knew going to the city that the French enjoyed their coffee and/or wine breaks and I'd heard stories of hourly chats in Parisian cafe's over a carafe of  wine or a cafe au lait, but I had never imagined that the people doing the chatting might not be facing each other. In fact, all of the cafes had tables and chairs squished together as close as possible, some with the chair around the table like what I'm used to, but most chairs facing out into the street instead of towards the other occupants of the table. The French, or at least those in Paris, are the ultimate people watchers, and they are not ashamed! As one sips their beverage of choice, they don't even have to turn their head to see the action and to comment on any and every passerby. I found it amazing that they have taken this very common and very human of activities that is usually done in secret, or at least with some discretion, and have placed it out in the open for all to enjoy. I wonder if this is why the French are considered more snobby than most other nationalities; it isn't that they are more judgmental, it's just that they don't hide it!

Vicenza and Ai Nani

This past Friday I visited Vicenza and some of the surrounding regions.  We first went to a theater from the 1500s completely in Greek style, designed by Andrea Palladio, one of Venice's most renowned architects. The theater was designed to created to resemble Thebes with the seven roads of Thebes and a point of view illusion behind the stage made completely of wood. They still do plays there today.

     After going to the theater, we stopped at a villa called "Ai Nani" ("Villa of the Dwarfs"_  I have never seen anything like it. The villa in and of itself is beautiful, and it is surrounding by a wall with little statues of different professions on it. The weirdest thing, however, is that the statues are all of dwarfs. It looks like something out of "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" or "Lord of the Rings." You feel almost like you are the adventurer who has stumbled on something that seems normal, but a little off what you are used to as normal - the same sensation you get that Alice feels when reading Alice in Wonderland; the one where you realize that this is a reality other than yours. Legend has it that the owners of this village were little people, and they created an environment for their daughter, who was also a dwarf, in which she believed everyone was small. They had the statues built on the wall, their house help were all tiny, and their daughter never had exposre to the taller world. One day, inevitably, a tall and handsome man came riding by on his horse. She saw him, starting talking to him, and fell in love. She also realized that she was not like this man, and that her reality was false. In despair, she killed herself.  Whether or not this legend is true, I don't know, but it is sad and interesting at the same time, and this villa is truly l'unica (one of a kind).

Venice...is it really a romantic city?

I have discovered that you have to be very selective as to which travel sites you use to find things like restaurants. Marco and I went to Venice for the last two days - for a kind of romantic trip, which is actually a lot harder than you think in Venice. Even though it is considered to be one of the most romantic cities in the world, it has several romantic obstacle for a number of reasons:

1. There are so many sites, and when you go there you feel like you have to see the sites. That means you're squished in the crowd of 2398723712894 other people that feel the same way and there isn't much alone time.
2. Venice is like a labyrinth - there are streets that dead end into bridges, bridges that dead end into buildings, and so many turns that its sends even those with impeccable internal compasses spinning. And if you have a map - it's even worse. Therefore, even if you want to have a relaxing time and just go to one or two places, grab some dinner or a drink, or go to a peaceful church, you will inevitably get lost and end up walking in circles, which can be tiring on the legs and body. This in combination with number 1 leads to both people ready to go to bed at 5pm instead of start a romantic dinner some place.
3. Venice is also like a huge Disney World in terms of restaurants. You know you are going to pay too much for bad to decent food. If you look on the travel websites for top restaurants, it's even worse. I looked on the websites for a restaurant that seemed out of the way, was rated well for local cuisine by French, German, Italian, and English speakers, and was not unreasonably priced. We ended up eating at a restaurant with Turkish proprietors, over-priced dishes, and decent food. Failed. I would say next time we'll wander until something catches our eye.

In sum, the experience was good, but a bit like whenever you drive a long way to a specialty store for a certain product that you have researched and have made the decision to purchase. You buy that expensive product and then return to see the exact same thing in a bonus pack at Target for $50 less. However...as tiring as Venice can be, and as confusingly winding as the streets are, you can't help but want to go back. Despite the tourism industry doing its best to exploit this 1500 year old civilization, it still maintains that famous feeling of enticing mystery and foreign elegance that tugs at the heart and leaves you wanting to return with someone you love.

Italy has elves...and they are helpful

Just got back from Torino, a city that is beautiful and clean and actually more like a German or American efficient than the rest of Italy. I could definitely live there comfortable We went to a Juventus Seria A game in the new stadium in Torino (decorated with all Italian colors and the names of the players) and visited my family who live in the area. Although I love soccer, my favorite part of the game was not the game itself, but the reaction of the people around me. Where Americans watching a game usually stop (profanity-wise) with "shit", that's where the Italians only start. The hurling of insults at the otehr team and at their own players for messing up is an art that you can only learn from a young age and lots of practice. Check out this picture of people in despair over a bad call:

In addition to Torino, we went to Venice on Monday to do some research for the tours. Both in Torino and Venice, we got lost trying to find a landmark. We walked around, sure of where we were going but found ourselves even more lost than before. Both times, however, a little old man with a can popped out and asked us where we wanted to go. In Venice, the old man held an umbrella and pointed us to San Marco; in Torino he held a cane and lead us to the Juventus store. There is only one conclusion to this....Italy, in addition to having small people in general, is a land of helpful elves that pop out when you need them. Never fear Americans who feel daunted by a huge Italian city - help is just around the corner, holding a cane and speaking in half jibberish, half dialect, but pointing in the right direction.

La Bella Sicilia

Balcony of Marco's Villa with Lava Rocks in Background

Balcony of Marco's Nonna's villa

We just got back from 5 days spent in Catania, Sicily at Marco's dad's family's villa on the sea (how's that for Grammar 1 possessive nouns, English teachers?). It was built sometime in the last 200 years - I ask for an exact age, but I am quickly learning that Italians do not think in terms of age. They look at a building and say "this is the municipal building" when that is only it's boring present-day purpose. When I ask what it used to be, they say "I don't know, a palace or some other important building...probably a rich family lived there." And when I ask the age, they say, "I don't know the ---- century", taking a stab at whatever number pops into their head first. Anyway, some time in the last couple of centuries Marco's family built two villas on the sea. They are right on a beach of volcanic rocks and every day the family and all of the extended cousins goes to take a swim in the deep, crystal waters before having a coma-inducing lunch at 2:00 pm. After a two hour lunch, beginning with pasta (primo), continuing with a meat or fish (secondo) and vegetable (contorno), still continuing with fruit (frutta), and ending with a dessert (dolce) and espresso (caffe'), all accompanied with the desired beverage. This holds you over until about 10 pm, when we eat a pizza or a dinner of cheeses, cured meats, vegetables, fruit, and bread. In addition, every morning was started with granita (kind of like gelato but way better). That's pretty much our visit - swimming in the sea and eating.
 
On the way to picking up food or doing more of this eating, we experienced the wonders of Sicilian driving. There aren't really lanes painted on the road, and if there are, no one follows them. On a two lane street, there might be three cars and two motorini all trying to pass each other. Red lights are more of a suggestion, the speed limit only counts if you're going too slow, and cars pretty much park wherever they so please. In fact, we talked to Marco's uncle at length about speed limits and red lights. Marco pointed out that he saw several cars casually cruising through red lights and his uncle argued vehemently against Marco, claiming that Sicilians DO obey the rules, per forza! Then Marco cited the time(s) that he's seen people go through the red lights when there is no one there, and his uncle responded, "Well of course if no one is there you would go. Why would sit there and waste time for nothing?" This conversation continued with a discussion on tickets for speeding in America and the imposition of speed limits on the highways - it was absurd that you aren't allowed to go as fast you possibly can in America when we have such opportunity with our streets and cars. The Sicilian point of view: "How can you fault someone for going as fast as they can if they have a V4 or V6 motor and such numerous, wide, straight lanes? It's more efficient that way - obviously if you have the means, you should go as fast as possible." I think I'll try that excuse the next time I get stopped.

Another thing I found striking was the relationship of the Catanese people with their volcano and their sea. Every day, the first thing the people commented on was the condition of the water. "Today the water is beautiful; Today the water is dirty, what a shame; The temperature is perfect for a swim." They eat food fished off their own shores and fruits and vegetables cultivated in their own farms. Weather includes not only the temperature and chance of precipitation, but how much ash will fall from the volcano. Marco's Nonna knows at what time shade will fall on her porch, making it possible to eat lunch outside, and his whole family waits for the one time a month when they can take a swim under the light of a full moon. In fact, this was our inaugural night in Catania - a family gathering ofmunching on pizza, watching soccer, and into the sea for a moonlight swim under la luna piena.

View of Catania with Etna (Catania's volcano) in the background

However another thought came upon me during this visit to the beautiful land of Sicily. Although it is a wonderful place to visit, I could never live in Sicily. Speaking with Marco's family made me realize how stuck these people feel, still controlled by a mafia-run government and helpless to advance themselves of self-merit. Many young people see no future in staying, and seek to leave as soon as they have a chance. Others insist on the possibility of change and the capacity of this generation to do something that has yet to be done. I am left with a hope that the latter will prevail.

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Siamo arrivati!

After a 24 hour voyage that involved losing one of my pieces of luggage, I am finally in Padova. The trip as a whole was long and tiring, but the arrival dinner made it worth it. It's funny how things don't have to be complicated to be good - in fact, that is what makes Italian food so good. It is made with few ingredients and the point is to bring the flavors of these ingredients out. Yesterday I had a dinner that began with mussels, stewed in white wine, tomatoes and onions, followed by a pizza topped with sauteed mushrooms and tomato sauce, nothing else. The whole dinner was accompanied by house-made Cabernet - the kind that I like, without a bite - and finished with an espresso and torte topped with candied figs. Amazing.

Today we went around a bit - went to the airport to get my bags, had lunch at yet another delicious osteria, and then drove to a grotto that was built by a Franciscan monk in 1858. Look familiar ND people?

Ciao USA...Ciao Italia!

I love how ciao means  hello and goodbye in Italian...makes for less linguistic mistakes (one word for two purposes) but a lot of confusion if you're not sure which the other person is saying to you. I'm at the point where I get to say ciao to America and ciao to Italy on Wednesday. The last few weeks were a whirlwhind of American travel...Atlanta to Charlotte to NYC to Albany to NYC to Dayton to Cincinnati to Notre Dame (South Bend) to Cincinnati. It's been a fun time and here are the some highlights:

1. I've made grilled pizza twice (once with Jack and Kent and once with Marco and family) and it is inevitably better than in the oven. I believe this might be because of the fire, but most likely because Alton Brown says its best that way.
2. Special thanks to Michael P. Furman for the best bagel I've ever had in my life. If you are in the upper east side, have Furman tell you where to go. This place is amazing.
3. I like tennis! I took two lessons with Marco's mom and was told that I "could play this game" if I wanted to. Very exciting except for the fact that I have no tennis equipment and look like a fool when I serve with my arm bent out like a chicken in the beginner position that I was taught.
4. Gokarting is more fun for people who like to go fast. When you take the turns slowly and cautiously it seems like you're just driving, and you wonder why you have a helmet and a funny suit.
5. If you go to Fiddler's Hearth in South Bend at 7:30ish on a Friday night you might get a table without waiting...if you go at 8, you might as well run to McDonalds, grab a snack and plan on eating when they open the next day.

Road Trip and What I've Learned

For the past three days my sister Jackie and I have been traveling from Georgia to Albany New York, stopping overnight in Charlotte with our cousin and in NYC with our other sister, Alex. This trip started out with a flat tire on Alex's car and all day Thursday trying and failing to get it fixed, which ultimately resulted in having to change cars and take my car, but after it got underway it went pretty well. There were, however, several conclusions that I have come to in the last few days:
1) Never trust Pep Boys
2) Driving in NYC is so much fun, except for when your only known route aka the Brooklyn Bridge is closed at 11pm and you do not know where you are going...also I'm a planner and like to know where I am and that I can get home without too many question marks.
3) My back has informed me that it will not take sitting in the car for three days straight without a fight.
4) There is a town in upstate NY called Cocksackie. Not sure they thought that one through.

Packing is not my Favorite of Pasttimes

I'm leaving tomorrow for my trip across the US (or up the US I guess) to NC, NYC, Albany NY, Cincinnati, South Bend, and then Cincinnati again. From there, I'll fly to Venice on September 7. I've been trying to pack, and have failed miserably at being frugal. So far I have sent two suitcases with Marco that I will check on the way to Italy and am now packing a carry on to bring with me to NC and NY. The problem is that I have too good of an imagination and can easily make up all of the scenarios in which I will definitely need every piece of clothing and pair of shoes that I own. And THEN I get fed up with myself and leave the one thing that I actually did need. I am also drawing on the experiences that I had when I studied abroad in Rome, especially the time I realized that I forgot my toenail clippers - I searched high and low for them in the grocery store/super-markets, in the pharmacies, and in countless other places that wouldn't make sense for 2 months. Finally I found them in the hardware store on the other side of the city, right next to the hammers and saws. I love Italy, but I trust what I know in America - and I want to be prepared this time....apparently with three huge suitcases.

Nelle botti piccine ci sta il vino buono.

The literal translation of this is "good wine is found in small barrels" - the Italian version of the English saying "Good things come in small packages." I choose to name my blog this for two reasons. One, because I am not a large person, or even average-sized, I've been told, but I like to believe that my smallness enhances my experience of life. For example, I am about to go to Europe for three months and live in Padova, Italy. One of the reasons I love Italy the most is because unlike America's gigantic products, houses, and food, everything is more Marti-sized. The other reason I picked this name is because I love wine. And I love good wine even more. And I love love love good Italian wine, especially paired with good Italian food in the company of small Italian people...which, if all goes as planned, will happen daily in the next few months. And so I have made this blog to detail the adventures of me, a small person who loves wine, Italy, over the next few months.