Happy Anniversary!

Today is our 1-month Italian anniversary. On the one hand, it feels like the time has passed quickly. On the other, it feels like we’ve been here for ages…living in this hotel. I have to admit that the joy of hotel living wore off after about 2 weeks. I will happily exchange maid service and breakfast for my own bed (complete with electric blanket!...that probably won’t work without a transformer…better add that to the list, too!)

We signed paperwork on our house Monday. Another new experience! We met the owner and his English-speaking daughter at the real estate office, along with the agent and our interpreter. After some question-answer exchanges, the agent began the reading of the contract – in Italian. We had already read it in English, so weren’t too concerned about this part. About 2 pages into it, the owner stopped her and asked if we couldn’t just sign the papers and be done with it! He said something to the effect of, “These people don’t understand Italian, and I’ve already read the contract.” That seemed to satisfy everyone and then Jeremy had a flurry of paperwork to sign. They sign all but the back page, sideways in the right-hand margin. The owner has to sign in all of the same places.

I was impressed by how solicitious they were – would you like the Christmas tree lights taken out of the big tree? We are having the barn space repaired and are renting it to you for free (only 1 paper to sign for that!). Do you like gardening? There’s a place prepared for you to use. We’re installing an electric pump to bring the water up from the well for watering the yard and garden in the summer time. ..a lot of extra things that no one in the U.S. would offer as part of a rental contract until it were specifically requested…and maybe not even then. His daughter even offered to loan me a coat until the rest of our stuff is delivered! An added bonus is that they threw in the lawn care! Although The Linguist was willing to attack the acre of lawn with the offered riding mower, I told him he didn’t know what he was getting himself into (and in all reality it would be me because he’ll end up TDY at the start of mowing and return after it’s over…at least that’s the general pattern!) After caring for 2 lawns in MT all last summer, I felt like I knew exactly what we were biting off – not horrible, but certainly not insignificant.

We are happy to report that our fast shipment has arrived…just 2 weeks after the slow shipment! So on the 15^th when we take possession of the house, we’ll be able to have beds AND blankets! Happy day! Our van is still sitting in Vicenza waiting for the part to fix the window. We were told it should arrive 10 days from last Friday, so maybe just 2 more trips to church on the bus? Last week was bad in that the weather dropped about 10 degrees while we were inside. The walk/ride over was just fine, but we nearly froze to death waiting 30 minutes for our bus and walking the ½ mile from the stop back to the hotel. Rosa wanted a hot bath immediately. The rest of us put on our pajamas and climbed in the big bed together to eat Halloween candy…so it wasn’t all bad!

The Linguist succeeded in getting the coupon book for the gas coupons, but when he tried to exchange those for the actually cards you use at the gas station the office was closed (at 10:30 a.m. Wednesday) because Thursday was a holiday. He also managed to get the girls to YW in Vicenza…which may have been the week’s highlight! There’s a huge, functioning branch of English-speaking youth and adults up there! Pianogurl is now hounding us to attend church in Vicenza. We’re considering it -- but it’s a little over an hour one way to drive it (in good traffic), gas (with the coupons we have yet to procure) is about $4.35/gallon, there’s a $6.80 toll each way and when the fog rolls in, we won’t be able to go at all. Hmmm….

Our other highlight is that we finally have seminary figured out for Pianogurl! We were trying to get permission for her to Skype in on a class taught by our friends in San Antonio, but because of red tape, it just wasn’t working out. We finally learned about a Skype seminary out of Rome! It’s interesting how things work out – no one in our stake here had any idea it was available, so we would never have found out about it without trying to cut through the San Antonio red tape.

What struck me most, though, was the manner in which things were handled. The person in San Antonio followed all of the rules and procedure to the letter, but had she taken a personal interest, she could have put us directly in contact with the teacher in Rome with very little effort. Rather than feeling like a lopped-off branch, we would have felt loved and cared for in the gospel context. Fortunately, Heavenly Father sent another, who did exactly that. Food for thought in the way we approach others in our callings and jobs -- there’s what is required and then what we would want someone to do for us. The choice of which role we play is ours.

I also had another interesting lesson on perspective in chatting with the seminary teacher in Rome. I said something about getting into our house in 3 more weeks, and she said, “You get a house?!” Rome is all apartments. When I said something about youth stuff in Vicenza being far away, she said, “You have youth activities weekly only an hour away?!” In Rome the traffic is so bad that they have youth activities only once every 3 months! And so I was reminded that despite delays and frustrations and more delays, that we are greatly blessed and have much to be thankful for!

So I'm learning a lot here in Italy! Which, I suppose, is the point.

Learning Curve

A dear friend of mine recently moved to Germany, and since we’re in the same time zone, we had the chance to chat for awhile the other morning! One of the things we discussed was the learning curve when you move to a foreign country. She said that several of the ladies she’s met have made comments that she just needs to learn German – as if that’s easy and as if language is the only difficulty you face when moving to a new country. Admittedly, before coming here, I probably would have had the same kinds of thoughts. However…my perspective has shifted a bit! We discussed some of the following things that play into the learning curve when moving to a foreign country…and then I added a few more unique to Italia!

1. The language…you’d think that actually living in a foreign country would be helpful in this, and it is. However, you can’t just plop down on the park bench next to a couple of folks having a private conversation so you can get some listening practice! In a place where the people are private – like Ferrara, it’s tricky to have a real conversation about anything besides fruit, gelato or pastries!

2. Fahrenheit to Celsius…or vice versa. We walked out this morning, and the thermometer read 12 degrees. Well, that means nothing to me without a long complicated conversion process. Many other people were wearing winter parkas. Am I underdressed in my sweats and sweatshirt? And it’s not just the weather. The oven temps are all in Celsius, too. So until I get this figured out, I have to do a conversion in order to bake.

3. And speaking of baking…there are 2 ovens in our hotel room. One has just two settings, and only one of them makes the light come on. I assume that means it’s working! Unfortunately, it only has one very small temperature marking, and it says 180 degrees…converting again.

4. When we were in Willow House trying to figure out whether an American-sized washer will fit in the laundry closet we confronted it again. Our interpreter only deals in centimeters…so our measurement of 30 inches meant nothing to her. She knows her washer is 60 centimeters, but that means nothing to me. So she explains further that it holds 9 liters. At least I have a frame of reference for that…picturing the washer only holding 4 ½ bottles of soda, however, is not comforting! (We later learned that it’s kilograms…so I’m feeling a little better about my washer that will hold 35 t-shirts.)

5.  Driving…they do drive on the same side of the road in Italy that we do in America! Whew! However, I was given a 40-page document filled with road rules that are different and street signs to memorize. Some things are common sense, but since Europeans rely heavily on the symbol, I’m still trying to change my mindset. For example, anything in a red circle means prohibited. So a picture of a car on a round, white sign, edged in red means no cars can go here! In the U.S., it would mean cars CAN go here…you see what I mean!

6. Grocery store…food is food, right? I mean, how different can it be? The produce is really similar. Except that here, you have to wear a plastic glove when handling the produce, and you weigh and put a sticker on everything before arriving at the check stand. Also, all the brands are different and since I speak lousy Italian, I’m not exactly sure what I’m buying. Is the glass jar with red stuff in it and a picture of a tomato, tomato sauce or spaghetti sauce? To solve this one, I finally just looked at how long the list of ingredients was…figuring spaghetti sauce would have more! It also helps that many food words are similar – sal and carrote, for example! And what about the stuff you can’t find – cheddar cheese, sour cream, peanut butter?!

7. At the check stand you have to pay (now that’s familiar, at least!), and although the bills and coins we use are different, it’s not too complicated. Since the change to euro was probably traumatic for all involved, the money has the value stamped right on it. Whew! I just have to remember that the quarter-sized coin is actually 2 euro – a little high for a tooth fairy visit.

8. Banking is a whole other beast here, as well. We were warned not to open an Italian bank account. Apparently you may actually die before getting through the paperwork to open the account! And then there’s the whole issue of closing it. Because the bank has no way to guarantee that you won’t have another charge coming in sometime, they make the account nearly impossible to close. Most Americans who open one, just plan to have an Italian account with 2 euro in it for the duration of their lives. I don’t know – a foreign bank account sounds kind of intriguing…

9. Automatic payments are something else we’re learning about. We need to transfer money to our landlord’s account for the deposit, so I sent an e-mail to the bank this morning requesting that they transfer the money. I have since received an e-mail saying my request has been received. Tomorrow or the next day I should be able to see that the transfer occurred. (I hope!)

10. Ferrara is a small town and tradition is really important. Most of the stores and restaurants close for repaso from 1:30-4:30. Restaurants don’t re-open for business (even if the doors are open and workers are inside) until about 7:30, and even then, if you don’t have a reservation, you’re likely to be funneled to the outside tables. That’s right – even at 5 degrees Celsius the outside seating in the restaurants across from the hotel are packed! The other night the girls and I walked home from music lessons at about 10 p.m. and the outside seating was full of people wearing heavy coats and hats and drinking coffee! Brrrr!

I'm sure there are more I haven't remembered...and probably a few others I haven't yet encountered. However, just in the few weeks we've been here I've gained a huge respect for those who are/were gutsy enough to begin live anew in a foreign country. I came to the conclusion that A. conditions must have been pretty bad to do it in the first place, and B. if they'd had more money, they might've gotten right back on the boat anyway! Ciao! Ciao!

You paid how much for a tank of gas?!

   So I had to break down and buy gas for the car...luckily someone gave me 50 liters worth of gas in coupons that are like money.  I was thinking it was a lot but it's only 13.2 gallons.  You may be aware that gas in Europe is sold by the liter.  So I filled up the car last Monday thinking I'd have some gas coupons left over.  Much to my chagrin a full tank took 48.5 liters or 12.8 gallons leaving me NO gas coupons.  The left over was returned to me in change.  The cost in Euros was 86.13 if memory serves.  A quick euro to dollars conversion shows $111.37 for 12.8 gallons of gas or $8.70 per gallon.  Yikes!!  I guess I don't feel so bad for paying $3.85 per gallon in San Antonio.
 
   You might be wondering about the gas coupons...as a member of NATO, we're authorized to purchase a ration of gas coupons per month based on vehicle size.  We buy the coupons at a reduced price thus chopping the gas price roughly in half.  So I guess I'll smile as we pay $4.35 per gallon instead of $8 or $9.
 
   Quick van update: I mentioned in a previous post that the driver-side window was broken in transit.  Turns out it was not broken, the window motor (the part that makes it go up and down) died.  There was no evidence of force or damage by an external source.  Therefore, the carrier will not pay for damage considered "standard" wear and tear.  What is aggravating--we replaced the part less than 2 years ago in San Antonio, if we're lucky we only have to wait 10 days to get the part in, we're paying a daily storage fee for the van to sit at the mechanic's shop, and our monthly gas allotment is tied to getting the van registered which requires an inspection which it may or may not pass because of the window.  With out the coupons, we're paying through the nose for gas, capisce?  We can still make our weekly Sunday bus ride to church without the van.  Although today it was very cold and windy (probably in the 40s) after church.  Waiting 30 minutes for the bus in the cold was not fun.  We huddled at the bus stop like penguins in the Artic.  We penguins need cheaper gas.  

Pasta Fun Facts straight from Italy!

     Have you ever seen those cheesy commercials that talk about how Barilla pasta is grown and is a product of Italy? How many of you believe it? I didn't believe it until I saw this at the store! That's right a huge pile of Barilla pasta sitting in Ipercoop (pronounced eeper-cop)!!!! Who knew that those cheesy commercials that we've seen on television were actually true! Now, you have a new fun fact about Italy to tell your friends!!!

Dreadful Picture of Barilla Pasta in Ipercoop
 (pronounced eeper-cop) 

More Pasta that is in Ipercoop... do you recognize it?
(pronounced eeper-cop) 

     Does this pasta brand look familiar to you? That's what I thought when I saw it at the store! Then, it hit me! This pasta brand is sold at Costco! So next time you're at Costco, you'll know where this pasta comes from! It's crazy to think that all the things we think are from America sometimes really do come from foreign countries!!!

The Wall

I've mentioned before that Ferrara is surrounded by a 9-kilometer wall that is supposed to be one of the best-preserved Renaissance walls in Italy. Currently, the wall is used as a walking and biking trail. This morning, The Linguist, Pianogurl and I walked part of the wall. It was a foggy morning, but the view was beautiful!

After our walk, I was curious about the wall. Poking around for information about it took me to the family d'Este -- early rulers of Ferrara and to Ercole I d'Este, who gets credit for commissioning Biogio Rosetti to plan Ferrara and build the wall. If you're interested in more of the history, I wrote a little about that below the pictures...

The wall is what you can see to the right.

Apparently, the House of Este had two branches. The older branch, known as Welf-Este or just Welfe, produced England's Hanovarian monarchs. The House of Hanover is a German royal dynasty that ruled different parts of Germany, Ireland and Great Britain. Queen Victoria was actually the last British monarch from the House of Hanover. Interestingly, she carefully married off all of her children and grandchildren in such a way that Europe was tied together. Hence her title -- the Grandmother of Europe...

Anyway...it's the younger branch of the House of Este we are concerned with in Ferrara. According to Wikipedia, the beginning of the line was in 975 when a man by the surname of Azzo built a castle at Este and named himself after it. He had three sons and the oldest son is the ancestor of the Welf-Este family I mentioned above. The middle son died without heirs. The third son, Fulco, is the ancestor of the younger Este line. He was given Ferrara in an agreement reached with his brother in the 1100's.

A successor, Ercole I d'Este, Duke of Ferrara from 1471 to 1505, commissioned the building of the wall. Under him, Ferrara was heralded as one of the leading cities of Europe, doubling in size and boasting the first urban planning in the Renaissance. The wall was built to enclose this gem!

Apparently, the legitimate line d'Este ends with Ercole II d'Este in 1597. There's a bit of intrigue since the emperor recognized an illegitimate cousin as the next heir, and then the Pope annexed Ferrara as part of the Papal State a year later because of the heir's illegitimacy. I'm a little foggy on the details after this because Ferrara is still being ruled by an Ercol III d' Este in 1796, when he is deposed by Napoleon...but so goes the soap opera of European royalty, I suppose.

Have you ever seen the street races in Europe?  I got a small taste of what they're like on Thursday.  The Journalist posted earlier about the car purchasing "process" here in Italy.  As expected, it took two full days to finally buy a car.

On Thursday, I went up to Vicenza to check out the available cars.  There were six or seven options that ranged from fairly cheap to pricey (all used cars mind you). I whittled the options down to two after some deliberation.  One, a '99 Volvo station wagon, low mileage and very clean, was affordable.

The test drive was hair raising. The mechanic, driving first, "frankensteined" into a formula one driver.  We're driving a station wagon.  He said he was hard on cars as we exited his shop's lot area and accelerated over 100 feet at break-neck speed swerving to avoid potholes in the road.  We took a pretty hard right turn, accelerated again and then slowed to exit the parking area.  At this point, I'm sitting there going: "Wow...this guy is an aggressive driver."  He takes off and speeds down the road to take "the loop" (a common test drive route he has all his clients take).  He drove because he said he hadn't driven this car before.  He mentions that he's taken others on this same (blood-pressure increasing) route.  We burn around a corner swerving as we go.  He says he likes to drive to see how well vehicles perform.  As we slow down near a downward driveway, he says this is the best part of the drive.  We're going about 25 mph as we enter an underground garage chock full of cement pillars marking parking spots and rows.  As we slalom through, dodging pillars, our speed remains steady.  Mentally, I'm holding on while praying we don't die!  Then we shoot forward going straight for some 30 feet before we swerve to the left and out of the gauntlet.

From there we press forward through a residential area at a respectably moderate pace.  After the stop sign, he guns it.  After a quarter mile or so, he jams on the brakes.  My seat belt was definitely working!  We press on and he hits the brakes again not as hard as before.  Then...reason enters.  He simply says: "I drive the cars hard so they break with me not with you."  He slows to a stop and steps on the brakes numerous times.  He gets out and looks at the passenger side front wheel.  The brake line is leaking like crazy.  Then he says it's my turn to drive.  The vehicle limps back to the shop and we take out the next vehicle, an Alfa Romeo 147.  It is superior to the other in all aspects except price.  I did all the driving because he's driven that car a lot...his wife has one.  I'm fairly sold on the Alfa Romeo.

My mid-life crisis car (I'm peaking early : )

So after lunch, I pay a down payment, go get registration paperwork, call the insurance company and drive home in a small rental car.  You can't drive a vehicle without insurance and registration and you can't get registration without insurance (the chicken or the egg?).  The next day, we go get a money order to pay the rest, we get paperwork at the shop, go get the insurance cards, turn in the car paperwork at the registration office where they give us recycled license plates, eat lunch, go back to put them on the car, pick it up, take it to the base for a final inspection and then essentially it's done.  That was a long sentence (almost as long as Friday felt).  To boot, we didn't get signed up for gas coupons at the registration office because we didn't have the inspection sheet from the base.  It was 4 pm on a Friday by the time we got done, I had a headache and we needed groceries.  It was a nice ride home.  On Tuesday, we'll go back up to Vicenza to start the process to get our van (its driver side window is broken, by the way).                

Our Second Welcome to Ferrara

Last night was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, although I’m not sure I can find the right words to paint the picture so you can see it…

There’s a beautiful park near the hotel, where we’ve been spending a lot of our evenings. About a week ago, the Linguist struck up a conversation with a woman from Colombia after she overheard him speaking Spanish to the kids. A few days later, she was at the park again and invited our family over for dinner. I was more than surprised when The Linguist told me about the invitation (I had been other places both times he spoke with her) – I mean, we have 5 children. That’s a lot of short people to take on in a dinner invitation, especially when it’s extended to someone you hardly know!

We picked up gelato across the street and then walked through the city to her house. I’m kind of mourning the loss of this convenience with our upcoming move to the country. The night was beautiful and clear, and we could see the moon and the stars. We arrived at a little wire gate, diagonally placed at the end of a block and rang the bell. Again, it’s the magic of what’s behind all of the walls and gates that intrigues me about the city! Patricia (Pu tree’ see uh) and her husband came down the stairs to meet us and ushered us into their home with many smiles, handshakes and expressions of welcome. Her husband is Italian, and speaks both Italian and Spanish, as does Patricia. They were both very nicely dressed and had obviously spent a lot of time preparing for our evening together. There was soft music playing and a formal table was all ready.

We gathered in their small living room and she brought drinks in delicate wine glasses. The Linguist had explained to her that we don’t drink alcohol, coffee, tea, etc., and so she had thoughtfully prepared fruit smoothies that were some of the best I’ve ever tasted! Strawberry, lemon, sugar and milk, she told me. Next came several trays of appetizers – a long, twisted breadstick with ham wrapped around one end and baked ham and cheese squares that were served in little cupcake wrappers on a glass stand. Very elegant. The boys were totally enamored with the giant goldfish swimming in the fish tank in the corner, while Rosa immediately took up with their young son. All of this is happening amidst a lot of animated conversation that was all in Spanish! After understanding so little of everything being said around me since arriving here, it was a beautiful thing to be able to follow the conversation, and since she doesn’t speak English, we were forced to at least attempt Spanish. (My brain is all mushy today, though…I’m thinking in Spanish with certain Italian words creeping in, and I’m having a hard time spelling in English. Weird.)

They took us out into their back yard and the kids played on the toys, and she told us how her husband had wanted to convert their patio area into a garage. Her husband’s work is something to do with organic fruits and veggies and chemical pollutants. I couldn’t follow any more specifically than that. After a lot of screaming over a bug net (Rosa and their 2-year-old son, Manual), we decided to take the kids in for dinner, and after getting them settled, ate another appetizer – sliced parmesan drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette. Simple, but so delicious!

We were waiting for the arrival of another couple -- Mari is from the Dominican Republic and her husband is Italian. They live in the countryside of Ferrara, further out than our house will be. Turns out Mari knows all of the Americans in town because she teaches Physical Education at the International School. She also speaks several languages (including English, Spanish and Italian) and is an extreme runner (50 miles up hills and mountains, etc.) After everyone had more drinks – I think at this point Patricia’s 15-year-old son had presented us all with some kind of pomegranate soda, we sat down for the first course.

This was by far the best food we’ve eaten in Italy! I can’t wait to try and recreate it! The first dish was pasta that had been cooked with thin-sliced zucchini and onions. Before serving it, she fried it in a little oil in a skillet. Fresh Parmesan was sprinkled on top. We ate and talked and talked…some in English, mostly in Spanish. My brain was starting to get overload from thinking so hard to follow the conversation and respond appropriately.

When everyone was finished, Mari and Patricia cleared all of the dishes and disappeared in the kitchen for a while. They came out with a salad, a platter of meat, and a bowl of the creamiest mashed potatoes I’ve ever eaten. The meat was incredible! I quizzed Mari carefully on how she made it – since I could ask in English and get details! It was cooked with celery, garlic, carrots and onion and then cooled completely and sliced. The vegetables were at some point chopped finely (not sure if this was before or after initial cooking). The meat then goes in a baking dish and the chopped vegetables go on top. The next ingredient was surprising to me – skim milk. She said you pour the milk until it covers the meat halfway and add a chicken bouillon cube and return it to the oven. The end result is what looks like a bread crumb topping over the meat, but tastes better than any bread crumbs I’ve ever eaten, and the gravy was to die for!

Arrosto al latte

Songbird and The Net (and the rest of us) gobbled up the delectable meat 

After the meat and potatoes, came the salad. It was regular lettuce, cubed feta and sweet grape tomatoes sliced in half. I asked about the dressing, and was told it was oil, a bit of balsamic vinaigrette and salt. The contrast between the sour of the goat cheese, the salt of the dressing and the sweet of the tomatoes was wonderful.

After that course had been cleared away, she brought out dessert – something akin to lemon squares and a homemade cheesecake. Both were wonderful! Now to hear this described, one might picture Patricia as a very formal person. She is wonderfully warm and down to earth. At one point, she confessed she had turned all of the ham and cheese appetizers upside down because she felt they were too ugly to serve after baking. When she brought out the cheesecake, Mari jokingly asked her if it was upside down, too? The whole evening was punctuated with laughter and joking and interesting conversation –most of which I understood. At one point there was some debate as to exactly what a certain picture on the wall was supposed to be. Some said glacier, others said eyeball. When Patricia’s husband took it off the wall, you could see the mark it left on the wall behind it, and she rolled her eyes and made a funny comment about housekeeping.

They were so gracious to the kids, as well, asking them questions about their interests and goals. At some point, Mari asked Pianogurl what she liked to do, and she explained that she like to play the piano. So after dessert, they insisted that she play. I know she was dying to, since she hasn’t had a piano for several weeks, but I know she was a little reluctant to play with an audience. She sat down and played what she could from memory of a piece she wrote, Moonlight Sonata, Phantom of the Opera and a couple of others to clapping and cheers of “Bravo!” Then they asked Songbird if she would sing for them. She immediately wrapped herself in the curtain by the window. We coaxed her out and said we’d sing with her, so the Linguist, Pianogurl, Songbird and I sang the first verse of “Dearest Children in harmony.” It sounded pretty good – even if I do say so myself! We were proclaimed quite a musical family and given a round of applause. I suppose that was our first public performance!

It took another half hour so to say our goodbyes -- handshaking and besos (the near kisses on either cheek) and many compliments on beautiful families, etc. Patricia explained that when she came to Ferrara 18 years ago, it was hard because the Ferrarese (fur are ay zay) are such a closed people. She vowed that she would take people of other cultures in whenever she had the opportunity because she knew what it was like not to understand the language and to feel isolated and alone, and she didn’t want anyone else to experience that.

I confess I am just in awe. How often do we turn away from people we can’t understand, with the excuse that we can’t communicate with them anyway? Telling ourselves there’s nothing we can do? And here’s a woman we met at the park, who has invited us into her home and her circle of friends, simply because she knows we are far from home. I find it overwhelming...and beautiful.