the north wind

what do you want to be when you grow up? a question engrained into the mind of american kids. adults, as if they don't know what else to talk about with someone half their size, ask this question just as readily as "what's your name?". as if planning your future at five years old should be just as important as constructing legos and playing with dolls. ambition and competition and self-made-ness are all fundamental principles in the united states, but all tend to put more than a little pressure on young people to decide what their future will be. young people who, most of the time, graduate long before their european counterparts and often have careers and families before they reach the age of 30. yet there's the flip-side. being a free spirit, living year to year and place to place to the point where you reach the age of 25, looking at it all a bit perplexed as friends nurse fledgling careers, get engaged, have babies and buy houses. what exactly did i want to be? and more importantly, what do i want to be? present tense.

i've always thought that life was a series of graduated stepping stones, leading up to more financial security, more maturity, more wisdom, a greater appreciation and understanding of life, a secret you understand more and more the longer you participate in the game. i am in no rush to reach these milestones, knowing i will reach them when i'm ready. i always thought that they would be put underneath me magically, like when mario jumps different levels in video games, an invisible hand setting out solid blocks underneath him. after graduating college, i've gone down a path completely different from the one i'd imagined. and i find myself here, three years later, longing for something more fulfilling and impacting on a personal and societal level. content, but not satisfied, as if i've consumed only the beginning of a sumptuous meal.

the problem is, the idea of a desk job is unappealing, teaching at the moment saps me. yet isn't there a world in between? perhaps it's my cancerian dreamer tendencies that lead me to try many things and stick to few. or perhaps it's the fear of attaching myself to one activity or truly committing, out of fear of failure or confronting my imperfections in a stable, constant job that would lead me to form connections and maintain them. existential questions plague me - do i have to be passionate about my work? is it a requisite, a right? or is it something we do regardless, plunging ourselves into our passions and interests in the free moments, the moments when no one can tell us what to do or how to do it?

while i would like to search for the "perfect job" (if only they would write that on the job description) i remind myself it doesn't exist, this much i have learned and know. what i am searching for is something that uses my talents and traits for a greater good, something that reaches outside my sphere of influence and positively touches others. social work? translation? advocacy? NGOs? non-profits? continue teaching, but in a different environment? all blended with the complicated aspect of being american, native-english speaker, and extra-EU citizen with documents that easily expire just as soon as you get them. but with my heart and soul attracted as if by magnetism to this place, i can't give into challenges and succumb to frustration. it's a waiting game, a test of patience.

and in the absence of clear answers and directions, i continue upon a path i've carved out for myself, despite the uncertainties. so far, mario's done pretty well, the stepping stones always appearing despite the distance below.

where the heart is

after 2 and a half months of waiting and 10 hours of flying, i am now back on US soil in atlanta, georgia, awaiting my connection to SD. an eventless flight and scarily easy customs pass, so easy in fact that i probably could have brought that bresaola after all, and i was on my way. i'm passing away the time until my connecting flight, a whopping 5 hours from when we arrived, sitting in the food court, listening to jazz piano and utilizing free internet while sipping on my first "caffe americano" in about 6 months.

the first few hours back in the states for me are always peculiar, as my ears re-adjust to hearing english all around me, my tongue disentangles itself from the italian language, and my brain wraps itself around english syntax, all while my eyes take in the sights and smells and sounds of this strange place called "home". these should be my people, my food, my restaurants, my language, and yet they feel so foreign.

home isn't simply where the heart is, though i come to appreciate the adage all the more the more time i pass away from the US. it's also where there is the familiar, the comfortable, the quotidian that becomes an integral part of the passing of time, as if its presence were taken for granted but felt the minute it's taken away or replaced. and it's in moments of reflection, of silent observance of the "new" as it passes all around you, that once again takes you back to that which was normal.

when i am there, eventually i long to experience here, and when i am here i long to go back there, a conundrum which often leads to soul-searching. i don't have to make commitments to one place, but do know what when i'm away from there too long i begin to miss the sights and smells and tastes and experiences, the constant pique of emotions and senses. i can be away from here longer than i can from there without feeling incomplete. perhaps because i know that here will simply always be here when i want. and while i love to be here, occasionally revisiting it all, partly in an attempt not to forget, in the end all i know is that by now, there has melted into a sea of normalcy, into home.

compass north

the chocolate cake was s smash hit. the only sugary part was the cream cheese frosting with powdered sugar since i didn't have any more sugar substitute. primary ingredients: zucchini, chestnut flour, almond flour, coconut, agave syrup. and you never would've known it didn't contain a trace of gluten or sugar.

yet this cake has done funny things to me. in the past year my creative side has run rampant in the kitchen and i've found myself delighting the taste-buds of many unsuspecting italians, baking away to see how they would react to such desserts as lemon-meringue pie, real american cheesecake, muffins, cupcakes, apple crisp and more. this has led me to foster fleeting ideas of an american bakery here in italy. and this new cake, along with the plethora of other healthful recipes which i've been finding in my research, have caused these fleeting ideas to become more solidified and well-defined: an american bakery which offers gluten and sugar-free options, both of which are lacking in italy. while my entrepreneurial side has reared its head more in my desire to tell others how they should run their businesses (poor mom when i visit home and the cafe), this time it's bitten me rather seriously. and i'm not quite sure how to approach this new desire which has been hanging around for quite some time, seeing my new age (25 - not sure how i like that number just yet), my educational background (political science and italian studies) and my current financial status (student loans: still lingering). this all leads me down a rather precipitous, soul-searching road, seeing as my vast desires have led me in many different directions, and knowing i've had many other ideas throughout the years as to what i want to spend my time doing long-term. those ideas, as much as they've not materialized, have brought me to this point. and sooner or later the compass has to point to north.

sometimes i feel trapped in a strange time warp in which for the united states i'm considered old enough to have long discovered my path in life, while by italian standards i'm far ahead of many youth who at my age haven't even graduated or left home. this has led me to the conclusion that i must disregard both concepts of time and continue to construct my own idea of gait and stride. i still haven't figured out "what i want to be when i grow up," but strangely, the more i grow up the less i feel so, as if maturity catches up with itself. i'm not the all-knowing person i assumed, as a young girl, that all 25 year olds are. i've come to see that there are some who still haven't discovered exactly what they want from life, but aren't sure it has to be just one thing. i'm willing to give myself time to discover exactly what it is i want to and should do. and if it turns out to be an american bakery in the middle of milan, i'd say, who would've thought.

sweet change

how i have neglected you, blog. but while posts are absent, thoughts are never far from my mind.

this year has been a cycle of ups and downs, and looking back i see footprints of 3 steps forward, 2 steps back. we're still making progress. this year has been full of sentimental ups and downs and finally leaving behind my relationship with simo, changing apartments 3 times in 9 months, immigration issues and health issues. and while immigration issues still linger, i have seen the fruits of my hard labors this year and am finally coming to appreciate a rotund bank account. buying and spending do not equal happiness, and the endorphins of the moment aren't worth the long-term loss.

in june i wrapped up my second year of teaching and am headed back to the states for 3 weeks in a month. in that month i will have to re-apply for my visa and hope for the best. the school i interned at this year was fantastic, and the teachers and director amazing. so amazing that they've been working incredibly hard to be able to keep me next year. yet between lawyers and trips to the police stations, no one has been able to accomplish anything yet. now we're going to try an "autonomous worker" route which means i'm technically not a hired worker but a freelancer with a temporary contract. at this point i'll take anything that'll help me to stay here. i just can't quite picture heading back to the States right now.

another big change this year came a couple of months ago, on the heels of several months of feeling not my best. i went to the pharmacy next to the pub for a few blood tests after the pharmacist, who comes to the pub every 10 minutes to drink an espresso, told me i had a bit of swelling around my thyroid area and i should come in for a few tests. everything looked ok, until we got to the blood sugar levels. they were at 207, or diabetes level. we did it again and they were 146, the first most likely beind a fluke. yet 146 on a fasting test is not indicative of a healthy body (levels should be between 60-80) and this sent me into a tizzy of research for ways to bring down blood sugar, in particular seeing as poppa had diabetes and it runs in the family.

i almost immediately cut out all sugars, caffeine, processed foods, cow milk, grains, and carbs except for those found in cheeses, yogurt, fruit, and vegetables. i also found research that indicates that cinnamon lowers blood sugar, and so attempt to drink about a 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon water around meals. after eating like this for a month, i went back in to test my blood sugar and it was down to 98/100. something was working. still not normal but far from the 146 levels of a month previously.

my new, healthy way of eating is actually not the burden i thought it would be, as in the first days after the test i found myself desperately trying to understand what exactly i could eat. i was preparing myself to say goodbye to sweets and treats and all things i considered "yummy". my breakfast in the morning of a caffe latte and several of these amazing cereal cookies...gelato, pasta, bread, pizza, cakes, muffins and so many other things. i occasionally allow myself a gelato or a taste of dessert, but my eating habits have radically changed. why would i want to eat processed stuff that hurts my body? eating low-carb actually gives you the ability to eat more fats and proteins and so i've indulged in my love of cheeses, olives, greek yogurt, and meat. fresh fruits and vegetables are never far from the fridge. almonds and ground flax seeds have become integral parts of my diet. while i had to leave behind some of these foods, i've gained so many other amazing ones. this also means spending more money for food seeing as meat and cheeses, fresh fruits and vegetables, and organic products cost more than pasta and rice, but i realize that i have to eat a diet that works for my body and not just for my wallet.

and while sometimes it's not easy forcing myself not to reach for the bread basket at lunch, in researching i've found a plethora of blogs and website by people who have discovered substitutes for ingredients in the most tempting of desserts and breads and other treats and have been able to recreate some of the favorites i thought i would have to leave behind forever. the other week i made almond meal and flax seed blueberry muffins sweetened with agave syrup and they were to die for. tonight i'm going to make a cake for my birthday with zucchini, chestnut flour, and agave syrup. who woulda thunk. and what is most comforting about this way of eating is that i know it's good for me.

so while 25 is just a day around the corner, i feel that i can turn a quarter of a century with new goals. this year will be full of experimentation, saving more, eating better, and living better. i personally think it will be quite yummy.

welcome back

the new school year has begun with a rush of cooler temperatures in milan, and i am finally posting several months after my last blog.  as my pots of homemade chicken stock and lentil soup simmer on the stove and keep the cold outside at bay, this will be the first of an attempt, no, a resolution, to post as prolifically as my little fingers can handle this coming year. 

i am now happily in central milan, where everything is faster, a lot bigger, and there is no more smell of cows to greet me in the morning (despite how charming tiny crema was).  the move to milan was definitely what my inner adventurer wanted - a place where the sights, smells, food and culture of a more cosmopolitan italian city could overwhelm my senses.  so far so good.  i moved here in july after having searched hopelessly for work for 3 weeks before stumbling upon a job in an english pub working as a waitress during their 11-4 lunch period.  though deliciously under the table and slightly underpaid, it (barely) paid rent and food for the duration of the summer before my internship started again.  more importantly i am content and have met some incredible people.   

as far as my permesso di soggiorno and visa, while it seemed as though i could deal with everything from italy, 2 months after all of my papers expired i was told by the questura in crema that that was, indeed, not the case.  though not really a surprise, it left me reeling as to the reality of the immigration system in italy that gives you an appointment for your permesso di soggiorno after said permesso has already expired, and furthermore makes you wait 2 months to tell you that indeed, what they had told you is not actually true.  my options were waiting months for the permesso to be potentially renewed after transfers of papers from city to city all the while without a single document to justify my presence, or going back to california to re-apply for a visa.  so i found myself at the first week of september, after two separate trips to the questura in crema, buying a last-minute ticket to SD.  in the grand complex of things, i have realized that i still don't understand well enough the perfect harmony and significance of events.  in being "forced" to go back home by an impossible immigration system, not only did i have my visa in hand 9 days after applying for it, but i had a blast working in mom's cafe for 3 weeks with some great people and saw old friends and family who after a year were beginning to think i was never coming back.  and most importantly, i was able to spend some wonderful last moments with my grandfather and say goodbye to him before he passed away, as well as attend his funeral.  looking at the individual threads never allows an appreciation for the garment.

and now life marches on to the beat of a different drum, which currently means teaching at my new school (which is small, catholic, almost private, has only two amazing english teachers with whom i'll be working, and is an incredible breath of fresh air after my experiences last year) 12 hours a week in the morning before heading to the pub til 4 with a dose of lucrative private english lessons on the side.  exhausting?  when i walk in the door in the evening and plop down on my bed, yes.  not exactly what i envisioned 6 years ago when i started college?  not really.  but i smile when i realized that this is what i wanted, somewhere deep down.  not necessarily to be recently graduated, not knowing where i'll be after may, but broadening my sphere of influence, meeting amazing people, having adventures that are more difficult if not impossible at retirement when most people permit themselves the time, and teaching kids and adults not only english grammar but a way of life, waiting tables as a covert american on the side.  not exactly what i had envisioned, but perfect for the moment.

tutto fa brodo

it’s almost the end of february. as i’ve been going along in this internship i haven’t really been thinking of how eventually it will come to an end. i have been living days that run into days, class by class, punctuated by evenings and weekends. but it will all come to rest at the end of may at sraffa, and in the middle of june at the liceo artistico. after that my crystal ball has no answers, no responses beyond the infinite black that stares back up at me.

yet there are constants right now that lead me to make a fairly easy decision. my love for this country, my adoration of the italian language, my fascination with european culture, my wanderlust, and, on a practical level, the weakness of the american and world economies which makes teaching english abroad comparatively lucrative. now that things have settled down at the liceo artistico and my schedule at sraffa is calming down once again, i’m going to actively start looking for another job for september, closer to or in milan where the opportunities are manyfold, and closer to where simo is. preferably in a private school or english institution where the desire to learn english is the result of a personal decision and not an obligatory academic requirement.

i realize that some of the above-mentioned constants in and of themselves have the ability to be inconstant, but i have to make my decision, jump in, and hope for the best. i also have friends who are in italy and europe teaching, friends who are applying to this program for next year, laura and nate are thinking about staying in italy, and i have many italian friends throughout the country. i know i want to stay for at least another year, and beyond that i will have to decide at that point where the diverse factors stand.

i have also grown up a little more beyond the 21-year-old who was here the last time. i used to be intimidated by natives, by my lack of perfection in and knowledge of the language, by my unfamiliarity with conventions and traditions. yet that is all but disappearing, melting away as i stop seeking perfection (as much as a perfectionist can stop seeking perfection) and seek a natural rhythym, harmony, and connection with this place. and the more i let go, the more i receive. now at times i even forget i’m in italy, in a country thousands of miles away from ‘home’, in a country which has not bestowed citizenship upon me, upon whose soil i have lived for a mere two years, a place which has unwittingly adopted my heart and soul. now, going to the grocery store is no longer fascinating, hearing italian spoken around me no longer stimulating, rushing down the freeway no longer an experience, walking down the cobblestoned streets and gazing up at ancient buildings no longer a history session.

it’s a life lesson that teaches that eventually, tutto fa brodo. eventually all is seen for what it really is. eventually, it’s all the same in the end. the difficulties and frustrations come out from behind the scenes and onto center stage, and sometimes it’s even difficult just to get out of bed when the alarm goes off and all you have to do is confront another day. even that which glitters and shimmers becomes ordinary and quotidian at best. it’s no longer gelato and pizza and wine, the golden fields of wheat bending in the wind and the sun that shines upon your face that is italy. it’s the tired bus driver, the bum who ask for change in the train station, the saleswoman who barely looks at you when asking if you want bags for your groceries that cost you 5 cents each, 4 euro shampoo, walking up and down the central street in town on saturday evenings, the piazza as a meeting place, the economy which never seems to let people get ahead, old women on bicycles, the banks on every corner, the different academic system, the kids you try to inspire, the crucifixes in public schools, the piercings and ripped jeans and wild hair, the lack of a concept of a proper line, the postal post-office workers, the lack of clothes driers, the tiny fridges, the fiercely-strong family bonds. all that and more, as well as the normalcy of getting up in the morning, drinking coffee, and going to work. and it’s bittersweet, that crossing of the invisible threshold to a place where the wrong can’t always be made right, where normal often goes unnoticed, where abnormal becomes absorbed. it is bittersweet because i’m not able to look at it all with the same eyes that i once did. it has simply become a part of who i am.

yet there are some days, like this morning, that i get glimpses of how it was all over again. it’s days like this, the sun making a rare winter appearance, rising above the various colored buildings around me and rays hitting off the side of my balcony, that old stereotypes come back to visit and forgotten feelings are stirred. reminding me of a time when this was how i imagined it all, when the complexity of it all was limited to what i had learned in text books and films. and it’s days like this that i relish in the gaiety that envelopes me, the delight that surrounds me, the particular bounce in my step as i walk down the cobblestoned streets, staring up at the buildings that seem to lean in a little closer, that have something important to tell me today.

catching up

i have been a bad blogger.  i've learned over the course of the years that you know you're a blogger when your thoughts are constantly turned into posts in your head.  yet even the best of intentions often get left to the wayside, and as life has been incredibly busy lately i haven't been good about writing.  that will change, however.  i want to remember these thoughts and events and emotions and what they mean in the moment and in the larger scheme of things.

to catch up since i last wrote, the holidays came and went.  they were bittersweet, as i enjoyed being in italy but would have loved to be home with family and friends.  yet i enjoyed my almost month of total relaxation that largely consisted of sleeping in til 11 and 12 and eating.  simo and i were alone on christmas after things fell through with other people and others were with family.  had we known, we would have planned better and gone down to sicily to his mom's place, but we only found out on the 24th.  so we solved our loneliness with a 4 course meal which took all of christmas day to prepare and several hours to consume.  we exchanged gifts as well, and were like little kids on christmas morning.  simo wanted to open them up right away that morning, but i wanted to preserve the christmas magic and made him wait until after breakfast.  i had gotten him a pair of sunglasses, the same sunglasses that had been stolen from his car this fall, and a really nice bottle of rum that he likes, and he got me a really beautiful bracelet watch.

after the holidays it was back to crema and into the new apartment.  i spent the first day putting my room in order and assembling my "closet", a sort of hanging apparatus that i got at ikea.  i really love my room, a mixture of antiques that were already in the room, and more modern pieces like the bed and the closet which i bought, with my colorful tapestries hung on the walls.  i have a balcony which will be fabulous for dinners in the spring.  i also have an antique piano which needs to be tuned in my room, and which i can't play and is therefore like torture, but it makes a nice bookshelf in the absence of it's musical capabilities.  the apartment is cozy and cute, with a kitchen that's definitely too small, but when we have more than 3 people at dinner, our entry way becomes the dining room and we put my desk and the kitchen table together.  our system works well, and we've tried to buy stuff to make the place seem more homey.  it is definitely a far cry from my other apartment, where i regularly stayed in my room and didn't get along with my roommates.  this place is drama-free and english and italian friendly, with good food and wine flowing freely and where dinners are frequent.  

over break, i was contacted by the principal of the liceo artistico, the high school attached to sraffa.  one of their english teachers went on maternity leave and they were desperately searching for another english teacher.  i agreed to do it, and after a few minor snafus over my not being officially "legal" yet and other things, i had the job, with another 600 beautiful euro a month at my disposal, january's sum of which, i found out later, i will be getting in mid-march because they're having money issues like the rest of the world.  the job has been interesting so far on a professional level because the kids, while at a "high school" and not a professional or technical school like sraffa, aren't the more eager students i expected.  the english program at the school is an internal add-on, meaning the school has to pay its own money to teach english to the kids because they simply want them to learn a bit of it.  the kids know they're not going to have english at their graduation exit exam, so the incentive to study is very low.  then again, the grades in a lot of classes are low so i try not to take it personally.  however it's extremely difficult not to take it personally when many students don't listen to you during class, you have to reprimand them for not doing homework or bringing their books, when they make disrespectful comments, and when every 10 seconds you find yourself shushing them.  there have been several occasions, both at sraffa and the artistico that i've had to go on rants rebuking them for their behavior.  that rarely works for more than the moment, so i've started a "3 strikes rule": every time i have to call you out on something bad you're doing, it's an x on the blackboard.  at the 3rd x, you get a 'nota', or a write-up in the class register...not a positive thing to get.  that actually worked fairly well yesterday in one of the classes, a younger class albeit, and i'll see if i need to apply it in other classes as well.  

the adjustment to the new job has been difficult as well because my sraffa schedule had to change to accommodate my new 10-hours a week at the artistico.  also, i entered in january, right as the last grades were being reported, the last tests given, and the meetings to decide on final semester grades were being held.  the last few weeks so far i've given and graded several tests in a few different classes, organized and figured out final grades and absences that then have to be inserted in a special computer program, and had 3, 1.5 hours meetings deciding on "behavior" grades for individual students and overall issues in classes with the other teachers of the 5 classes i teach.  there are still 2 more meetings to go tomorrow, so my days have been long and tiring.  i've also been figuring out a lot of stuff on my own in this job, seeing as they don't really have any non-italian teachers in that school, and the other teachers have been in the system since day one so they know how it goes.  overall, it's been an interesting learning-curve, and i have a new-found appreciation for hump day, fridays, and the weekend.  

in the last few months i have realized why i love being here and why i love surrounding myself with different things, ie my experience in italy, and my often-new surroundings and situations.  i have realized that stability is not necessarily something you have to sacrifice in the process of change, and change does not have to be destabilizing.  being in italy keeps my brain constantly firing, constantly moving, constantly active.  in my own culture i often get into a lull, into a complacency and boredom that i'm not at ease with.  and while i constantly slip more and more into a comfortable gait with this culture and language and, my senses are still piqued day after day, my mind constantly working to understand this place, making comparisons, writing notes, filing it all away.  right now it's all still an overwhelming mountain of mental post-its, scraps of paper, and ideas, but one of these days it's going on actual paper.  i just haven't figured out when and how yet.