15 Oct. 2004
Torino, Italia
A month can seem like an eternity when you are, say, backpacking across Europe or even when you are anxiously awaiting a new baby -- kind of like a child waiting for Christmas day to finally arrive and it’s only just Thanksgiving. But how quickly a month can go by when it is only one (the first) of eleven more, still waiting to be experienced.
This I have discovered after my first month, for it has flown by so quickly. And though it has seemed so fast, I feel as though I have been here for ages because of my comfort with the family, the girls, with where we live in relation to everything else, and well, just because. I can understand a few words now, too, which is always a plus.
So, hello!! from the beautiful Italy!
I must apologize that this letter has taken me so long to get out, but here you are and I hope all is well and because it has been a few weeks, this one might be a bit lengthy as well. If you have to read it in spurts, I won’t be offended!
So, things are fabulous and life is great in the Balzola family living in the big city of Turin. I think with this email, I will fill you in on the places I have gotten to venture so far and the people I have met, for this is the true side of Italy that you don’t get to experience as a tourist. The first weekend I was here, I went with my family (Balzolas) to Paola’s parent’s house in the country, about 45 minutes outside of the city. Once away from the buildings and trams, the Alps became visible on all sides and as we turned off the highway, I in the backseat with Maggie and Bea, and wandered up a road and into a small town, we eventually came to a dirt road which lead to the grandparent’s house, known as Nonna and Nonno in Italian. I stepped out of the car and was greeted like I had been born into the family with kisses on both cheeks and “How are you”s in Italian -- Paola’s mother, short and with a smile that instantly makes you feel welcome and her father, tall and hilarious always rolling his eyes at me when his family gets crazy and talks over one another all at the same time, which seems to happen quite often. The green pasture they have as their front yard spread out before my eyes and I was delighted with where we had come, this home in the country. The house isn’t huge, but you can tell it had been though many lives and families. I was introduced to Dolly, the dog and also to the chickens in the chicken coop where Nonni (plural) get their eggs and to the rabbit who likes to bite and then also to the two turtles who are kept in the down stairs bathroom. The garden out front is where Paola and Federico picked lettuce to take home with us for the coming week’s salad (yeah, you read that right) and the stone stove in a room on the first level of the house is where Nonna makes all the bread (that she gives to us to eat as well).
I tried to take everything in at once. Nonno picked a fig for me from the fig tree and peeled it, offering me a taste. And though it honestly didn’t look too appetizing, I went for it and was happy with the outcome, it was delicious as well as the grapes that were picked from a vine and only the juice is sucked out because the skin is too tough and bitter to eat. The inside of the house has pictures of their grandkids all over the walls and is like any other grandparent’s house -- warm and inviting with couches that have been sat on and played on one too many times. I teach Mother May I and Red Light Green Light to the girls and they teach me games out on the lawn with the sun getting ready to set and the cool evening preparing to set in. We were there to celebrate Nonna’s birthday and so Paola’s sister and her family of husband, two boys, and one girl all arrived a little later, just before dinner was served, which made me, I realized, really outnumbered. The dinner was amazing with about 5 courses, one obviously being pasta and the others meat, fruit, dessert, and something else I cannot remember. During the entire dinner Italian was spoken, of course, and I learned that even though I can’t understand the words that were being said, I can still get a feeling for what is being talked of and laughed about by gestures and just different styles of communication. The thing was, that I didn’t need to understand what was being said to be entertained and in awe of it all – a completely new culture interacting in the way that they have grown up, not totally different from our way, but definitely with a character of Italy, which excited me to no end. The night finished with lots of talking by the adults and playing by the cousins, and the American nanny kind of fell somewhere in between, which was fine with me.
And now that you know the exact specifics of that night, I won’t go into them as much with my other ventures, for from that you should be able to get the picture quite nicely on your own if you just imagine warmth, lots of good food and happy, loud families enjoying one another.
The next weekend I went with the family to Milan for the day to visit Federico’s brother and his family. They had just finished re-doing a flat and that was the main motive, though the fashion capital is always a nice place to go, anyway, I discovered. (Federico seems to think that everyone in Milan is really fashionable and Paola and I tease him about it.) It is only about 2 hours away and it was a great day. I love meeting the family members of Federico and Paola, it is so much fun. We had a bit of lunch with them at their flat (top floor with elevator opening directly inside, also with a private roof access to see the city, not to mention a window view of the Duomo -huge, important church in the city- from the bathroom) which consisted of foccaca bread and ham and bread and cheese and bread and tomatoes and cheese and bread. Ha…Atkins, anyone? Then we ventured to some furniture stores and an exclusive fashion store called 10 Corso Como where different designers rent space to display their things. I am telling you, I felt like I was in, well, Milan. It was crazy and very posh. (Abbi, couldn’t help but think of you!) I don’t think my Target pants and black t-shirt cut it, but oh-well. Then it was back to the flat for a pasta dinner and lemon cake dessert, eaten by dim light with the jazz CD Federico bought that day playing in the background. Federico’s brother and sister-in-law speak some English so that night I was sometimes included in the conversation which was an added bonus. The view of the sunset from their flat was truly spectacular and a highlight of the very pleasant day.
Lastly, the third weekend we were here Jen and I made it out of Turin and took a three-hour train ride to the cities of Santa Margherita and Portofino which are on the West Coast of Italy (or the Italian Riviera, if you want to sound really romantic and dreamy.) It was, however, pretty dreamy that it didn’t even seem real. Though they both are pretty touristy places, it wasn’t so bad this time of year. We stayed at a quaint hotel in Santa Margherita. This town is made up of narrow streets, little shops and three & four story buildings all painted different colors of pinks and greens and yellows and blues. The harbor is full of small boats and a few yachts and the weather was simply gorgeous – sunny with a cool breeze. The people there varied from regular tourists like ourselves – English was running rampant – to the huge-dark sunglasses-clad Italian women dressed in white suits with their man and their dog at their side. Quite a great combination, if you ask me. Jen and I had fun picking out who was from America or Britain or Italy. We took a boat to the famous Portofino where celebrities have vacationed. Once we arrived, we found out why, it was almost like an American made-up resort. Quite posh, I must say, and quite beautiful. It is smaller and even more quaint and touristy than Santa Margherita and as we embarrassingly compared it to Disney World or Epcot because it seemed so perfect (I kept waiting for music to come out of the bushes or rocks), I was informed later when I told mom of our weekend that there was, in fact, a Disney world hotel named the Portofino Hotel and built to replicate the feeling of this real, Italian city. Ahh, the irony. With the crystal clear water and boat rides and an abbey we visited on the rocks as well, it was a wonderful weekend. We treated ourselves to a nice dinner, explored Santa Margherita, and tried to solve the problems of the world under the moonlight by the harbor eating gelato. Quite nice, indeed.
As nice as it was to leave, it was great to get home too and be happily greeted by two excited girls and two adults anxious to hear how the weekend went.
So, that sums up my ventures so far. Oh, there is so much more to write and tell that I could go one for pages, but I will refrain for now and just try to write more often. My daily routine is starting to become just that – a routine and my comfort level with my new house and new family and new city is getting stronger and stronger with each game of “Magic flying bed” I play with Maggie, the nightly family dinner, and the tram usage to get to a certain piazza or street with Jen side by side. I now recognize the moms at school to drop off and pick up and the lady that sells flowers by the tram stop and the man who owns the copy shop who I wave to in the mornings.
Torino, Italia
A month can seem like an eternity when you are, say, backpacking across Europe or even when you are anxiously awaiting a new baby -- kind of like a child waiting for Christmas day to finally arrive and it’s only just Thanksgiving. But how quickly a month can go by when it is only one (the first) of eleven more, still waiting to be experienced.
This I have discovered after my first month, for it has flown by so quickly. And though it has seemed so fast, I feel as though I have been here for ages because of my comfort with the family, the girls, with where we live in relation to everything else, and well, just because. I can understand a few words now, too, which is always a plus.
So, hello!! from the beautiful Italy!
I must apologize that this letter has taken me so long to get out, but here you are and I hope all is well and because it has been a few weeks, this one might be a bit lengthy as well. If you have to read it in spurts, I won’t be offended!
So, things are fabulous and life is great in the Balzola family living in the big city of Turin. I think with this email, I will fill you in on the places I have gotten to venture so far and the people I have met, for this is the true side of Italy that you don’t get to experience as a tourist. The first weekend I was here, I went with my family (Balzolas) to Paola’s parent’s house in the country, about 45 minutes outside of the city. Once away from the buildings and trams, the Alps became visible on all sides and as we turned off the highway, I in the backseat with Maggie and Bea, and wandered up a road and into a small town, we eventually came to a dirt road which lead to the grandparent’s house, known as Nonna and Nonno in Italian. I stepped out of the car and was greeted like I had been born into the family with kisses on both cheeks and “How are you”s in Italian -- Paola’s mother, short and with a smile that instantly makes you feel welcome and her father, tall and hilarious always rolling his eyes at me when his family gets crazy and talks over one another all at the same time, which seems to happen quite often. The green pasture they have as their front yard spread out before my eyes and I was delighted with where we had come, this home in the country. The house isn’t huge, but you can tell it had been though many lives and families. I was introduced to Dolly, the dog and also to the chickens in the chicken coop where Nonni (plural) get their eggs and to the rabbit who likes to bite and then also to the two turtles who are kept in the down stairs bathroom. The garden out front is where Paola and Federico picked lettuce to take home with us for the coming week’s salad (yeah, you read that right) and the stone stove in a room on the first level of the house is where Nonna makes all the bread (that she gives to us to eat as well).
I tried to take everything in at once. Nonno picked a fig for me from the fig tree and peeled it, offering me a taste. And though it honestly didn’t look too appetizing, I went for it and was happy with the outcome, it was delicious as well as the grapes that were picked from a vine and only the juice is sucked out because the skin is too tough and bitter to eat. The inside of the house has pictures of their grandkids all over the walls and is like any other grandparent’s house -- warm and inviting with couches that have been sat on and played on one too many times. I teach Mother May I and Red Light Green Light to the girls and they teach me games out on the lawn with the sun getting ready to set and the cool evening preparing to set in. We were there to celebrate Nonna’s birthday and so Paola’s sister and her family of husband, two boys, and one girl all arrived a little later, just before dinner was served, which made me, I realized, really outnumbered. The dinner was amazing with about 5 courses, one obviously being pasta and the others meat, fruit, dessert, and something else I cannot remember. During the entire dinner Italian was spoken, of course, and I learned that even though I can’t understand the words that were being said, I can still get a feeling for what is being talked of and laughed about by gestures and just different styles of communication. The thing was, that I didn’t need to understand what was being said to be entertained and in awe of it all – a completely new culture interacting in the way that they have grown up, not totally different from our way, but definitely with a character of Italy, which excited me to no end. The night finished with lots of talking by the adults and playing by the cousins, and the American nanny kind of fell somewhere in between, which was fine with me.
And now that you know the exact specifics of that night, I won’t go into them as much with my other ventures, for from that you should be able to get the picture quite nicely on your own if you just imagine warmth, lots of good food and happy, loud families enjoying one another.
The next weekend I went with the family to Milan for the day to visit Federico’s brother and his family. They had just finished re-doing a flat and that was the main motive, though the fashion capital is always a nice place to go, anyway, I discovered. (Federico seems to think that everyone in Milan is really fashionable and Paola and I tease him about it.) It is only about 2 hours away and it was a great day. I love meeting the family members of Federico and Paola, it is so much fun. We had a bit of lunch with them at their flat (top floor with elevator opening directly inside, also with a private roof access to see the city, not to mention a window view of the Duomo -huge, important church in the city- from the bathroom) which consisted of foccaca bread and ham and bread and cheese and bread and tomatoes and cheese and bread. Ha…Atkins, anyone? Then we ventured to some furniture stores and an exclusive fashion store called 10 Corso Como where different designers rent space to display their things. I am telling you, I felt like I was in, well, Milan. It was crazy and very posh. (Abbi, couldn’t help but think of you!) I don’t think my Target pants and black t-shirt cut it, but oh-well. Then it was back to the flat for a pasta dinner and lemon cake dessert, eaten by dim light with the jazz CD Federico bought that day playing in the background. Federico’s brother and sister-in-law speak some English so that night I was sometimes included in the conversation which was an added bonus. The view of the sunset from their flat was truly spectacular and a highlight of the very pleasant day.
Lastly, the third weekend we were here Jen and I made it out of Turin and took a three-hour train ride to the cities of Santa Margherita and Portofino which are on the West Coast of Italy (or the Italian Riviera, if you want to sound really romantic and dreamy.) It was, however, pretty dreamy that it didn’t even seem real. Though they both are pretty touristy places, it wasn’t so bad this time of year. We stayed at a quaint hotel in Santa Margherita. This town is made up of narrow streets, little shops and three & four story buildings all painted different colors of pinks and greens and yellows and blues. The harbor is full of small boats and a few yachts and the weather was simply gorgeous – sunny with a cool breeze. The people there varied from regular tourists like ourselves – English was running rampant – to the huge-dark sunglasses-clad Italian women dressed in white suits with their man and their dog at their side. Quite a great combination, if you ask me. Jen and I had fun picking out who was from America or Britain or Italy. We took a boat to the famous Portofino where celebrities have vacationed. Once we arrived, we found out why, it was almost like an American made-up resort. Quite posh, I must say, and quite beautiful. It is smaller and even more quaint and touristy than Santa Margherita and as we embarrassingly compared it to Disney World or Epcot because it seemed so perfect (I kept waiting for music to come out of the bushes or rocks), I was informed later when I told mom of our weekend that there was, in fact, a Disney world hotel named the Portofino Hotel and built to replicate the feeling of this real, Italian city. Ahh, the irony. With the crystal clear water and boat rides and an abbey we visited on the rocks as well, it was a wonderful weekend. We treated ourselves to a nice dinner, explored Santa Margherita, and tried to solve the problems of the world under the moonlight by the harbor eating gelato. Quite nice, indeed.
As nice as it was to leave, it was great to get home too and be happily greeted by two excited girls and two adults anxious to hear how the weekend went.
So, that sums up my ventures so far. Oh, there is so much more to write and tell that I could go one for pages, but I will refrain for now and just try to write more often. My daily routine is starting to become just that – a routine and my comfort level with my new house and new family and new city is getting stronger and stronger with each game of “Magic flying bed” I play with Maggie, the nightly family dinner, and the tram usage to get to a certain piazza or street with Jen side by side. I now recognize the moms at school to drop off and pick up and the lady that sells flowers by the tram stop and the man who owns the copy shop who I wave to in the mornings.
posted by Laura at 5:59 PM
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