the political

Okay, so I here are links to some of the challenges to social inequality many italians are dealing with:

EU Law on descrimination: http://ec.europa.eu/social/main.jsp?catId=612

Link to burkini case article (unfortunately it happened in France too): http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/italy/6056273/Burqini-banned-in-Italian-town.html

Inter-faith Violence (http://milano.corriere.it/cronache/articoli/2008/02_Febbraio/04/ordigno_moschea_abu_omar.shtml

Calcio and equality: http://www.stranieriinitalia.it/attualita-cori_razzisti_ma_la_partita_non_si_ferma_9272.html)

Roma Rights: (http://www.newsweek.com/id/139019).

Berlusconi's Jokes (http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1927307,00.html)

http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,1874098_1874099,00.html

Human Rights Watch Report on Migration between Libya and Italy here: http://www.hrw.org/en/news/2009/09/17/italylibya-migrants-describe-forced-returns-abuse

milano

So as requested, some pics of the city. I've got a little raffredore (cold) again, so I'm going to bed!

numero uno: Look what i zanzari mi hanno fatto! Look what those goddamn bastard mosquitos did to me!

numero due: homework in parco sempione, pretty much what I do every day

numero tre: la citta a notte (citta has an accent, I just cant find it)

e poi

numero quattro: the city tram

Rocce Sarde (sardenian rocks)

The wind and the water curve the rocks into beautiful sculptures in Sardegna. And parts of the beach are covered in beautiful intricate shells, conchiglie, but they are so small you have to fill your hand with them and look from about an inch away. This was my beach, about a forty minute walk from the house, but one of the most relaxing, and picturesque places I went.

The leftovers from Sardegna

The endless pool at Ladunia, with Lucia blurred out, because I don’t like people who put pics of kids online. The Granita man, who pushed his card of slushies up and down the beach and honked the horn that went hooweee hooweee hoowee! Golfo Aranci, stavo in Golfo Marinella, and between Aranci and Marinella you have the Costa Smerelda. This was the sign that let me know I was halfway to my beach at Marinelledda.

ROBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINN!...Fuck me, they cleared it!

I miss Robin Hood!

While we were in the countryside the only cartoon the grandparents had was a DVD of Disney’s Robin Hood, which I watched a record of ten times in 4 days. I miss the real Robin Hood! I can’t believe they’re going to blaspheme that incredible film by with a new one with Russell Crowe as Robin Hood. I hope all the copies get struck by lightening and the insurance money goes to the poor. 

l'architettura

Bellagio

My second town was Bellagio. Apparently the casino is named after this little place. For lunch I bought a bag of cookies, a single-serving bottle of vino rosso,  and a jar of nutella. Tucked myself into a little alleyway, smaller than the one in the picture! And munched away. It was perfect. The nice old lady came out of her house, about a foot in front of where I had parked myself, and we had a good chuckle about the health benefits of my food selection. The dockman was extra flirty, which I now realize may have been because he saw me taking this picture of him. I thought it captured the moment well! 

Tremezzo

La mia prima fermata was the little town of Tremezzo. One mainstreet built next to the water that led straight to the main tourist attraction, Villa Carlotta. A gift from the queen of Nausau to her daughter on her wedding day and now a museam and formal gardens. While waiting outside the salumeria for the next boat out I talked to some Americans who sounded just like Yayzose-Al, my dad’s college buddy, and lo and behold they were from Connecticut. We chatted it up and I gave them a stamp so they could send a postcard home. The dock man looked just like Richard Dreyfus in Jaws.

il vento, la nave, e naturalmente, principesse

From lo stazione in the main city of Como, you walk straight down the steps into the city. I of course didn’t know this, since I decided to go the night before at about midnight and just bought a train ticket (senza investazione quella mattina). Lucky for me after wandering a bit and working up the courage to ask for directions I was kindly accosted by some Italian Jehovah’s Witnesses who stumbled with me through the language barrier to tell me about Jesus. We shared a nice moment where I defaulted and said I was catholic and then they helped point me in the right direction. Two chiese, uno gelato, e un 20€ abbonamento for the boat later, and I was on my way.

The boat ride was cold and windy but I couldn’t make myself go inside with the view. La panorama era bellissima. And I got distracted by the red hair giggles of the two german tourists. They made me miss Claire, with her crazy hair flying all around. But the air smelled good, not for dwelling on the recent past, but the really distant past. The houses stacked like petit fours into the towering mountains. I couldn’t help it and thought up stories of mischievous princesses running between them, getting into trouble while saving their kingdoms from the assholes of the 1700’s, and of course sword fighting now and then. Oh, and falling in love. It is Italy after all.

Lago di Como

For my first, and probably only, day trip fuori la città, I went to Lago di Como, and put on great grandma Judy’s dress,  and un po di lipgloss, just in case I met George Clooney. Here I am on a pier in the lakeside town Bellagio. 

Here is the transition. The last sunrise over the sea in Sardegna, and the early morning over the fields in Vicenza, nella campagna. They were both beautiful. And believe it or not I've been waking up at a normal early time (7:30!) and only once in a while fall back asleep later in the day... Sardegna was beautiful, something I feel very lucky to have experienced, but also a place of the ricci, very rich. Inasmuch, I doubt I would ever feel totally comfortable in that environment, but the nature was overpowering, and calming in its egalitarian way. 

The compagna was, ancora, beautiful. It was just like out of a storybook in the mornings when I would get up and run around the cornfields. I'd wave buon giorno to the donkeys on every lap, the dogs would bark at me, and I could smell fresh cold air. Now, in the city, I miss that a lot. I nonni were also incredibly generous, and kind. And Antonia made the best food. Oh, and I ate grapes (not just any grapes, uve fragole!) off the vine. And homemade pasta everyday. And played in the backyard pool... and danced around alone in the bright turquoise bathroom. 

pics

sono arrivata!

I have arrived. It is beautiful, my room is tucked in down off some slant staircases, I sleep at night with just a sheet, the slat windows ope so the sea air can filter in and an iguana gaurds my door. Finalmente, the family is wonderful, the kids are really really nice, and the mom is very reasonable. They are just fun to play with. I have come to the conclusion that I am just here so they can hear English and understand it. Sono sta nchissima. Buono notte.

 

 

Ah, I am bored. I couldn’t have asked for anything better, the family is really nice, the kids love crawling on me, they are nice, and only spoiled in the way that they would rather have their mom do stuff with them than me. They are really nice, a pack of blonde Italians. Absolutely adorable. The mom is pretty, and everyone is laid back. My purpose is really just to speak English to them, play with them when they want someone to play with, to watch the littlest one so that she doesn’t disappear, Every day I have to be up there by 8 (not that bad) and I really shouldn’t have brought as many skivvies as I did. I wake up, rinse off the salt water from the day before, put on a swimsuit and that’s about it. We’re at the beach or pool by 10-11 and then come home around five. It looks just like the southwest meets almost-greece. (some spaghetti westerns were filmed here, my taxi driver mi ha detto)

 

I really should love it, the heat is incredible, I live in the water. But it makes me happy I don’t. I’m bored. Already. And its only day two. There’s no challenge, Pretty much anyone can do this (and granted some people can do it better than others) But there’s only so many times you can pretend to be a monster in the water before you want to just disappear and do laps. I’m going to try to focus on learning Italian for my challenge. But this makes me feel better that I didn’t decide to run off to the Caribbean to be a bartender. And I’d feel even better if I landed that job in Phoenix! She already gave me a phone, I just have to figure out how it works. I’ll let you know as I get it figured out.

 

p.s. the place we are staying is called Aligusto It’s a rental house of sorts. The main family lives in one part and then I go down some beautiful steps and my room is tucked under the porch. E bellisima, Its about as big as the guest room at the house, but with a closet and bathroom attached. My head hits the roof 

The Main Point

This is the connection, the go-to for my italian adventure. It begins in Sardegna, the seemingly beautiful island off the coast of Italy, and ends a Milano, the fashion capital d'italia, where the duomo (the large historic cathedral in the city) looks like it was attacked by gothic architects that planned to employ all of Italy by producing a sculpture for every cornice, arch, and bird poop. In between those two cities I will be the (hopefully) proud (orgolioso) nanny of 3 young italian children. It is likely that they will teach me far more italian than I can teach them english.

Anyway, this is where I will try to keep a flow and update with pictures.

And the title: in bocca di lupo translates: to the mouth of the wolf! something roughly equivalent to a more vicious "break a leg" The recipient of these kind words must then reply Crepi! (I'll kill the Wolf!)

so I go to kill the wolf...