Connected

Tonight, as I pulled my cheesy fork out of the fondue bowl, I watched as the strings of cheese intertwined with the cheese on my friends' forks- that were also dipping in the bowl  (this is how Ebowla spreads...:). We were eating  our first course together around the dining table in my neighbor's apartment.  There were six of us all together.  People I have been connected with for the past few months, people I have lived in the same building with, a girl I just had met that night.  But we all shared from the same bowl.  And we all laughed as we struggled with the changing form of cheese as it cooled, which eventually looked like spaghetti.  My neighbors and friends had a dinner party Sunday night that we organized by delegating a different course to each person. Course number one was quattro formaggi fondue.  When eating becomes a fun experience, in addition to being savory, it creates the best outcome.  The event of doing dinner together brought us together in more ways than the stringy cheese conveyed from its tangible form.

I was responsible for preparing the second course.  I decided to take on the task of making my grandmother's recipe for "Sunday Sauce"- gravy with meatballs and sausage.  I learned that the Italian name for this recipe is "Polpette e salsiccie al sugo".   I used to make this recipe frequently when I lived in Hoboken.  I learned the recipe from my grandma Bianca by watching her cook in the kitchen, as well as reading her recipe and hearing her extended commentary.  According to my Italian friends, I have mastered this recipe to a T---apparently it tastes as authentic as possible to Italian standards.  Brava a me!

I am not sure exactly when it hit me, but sometime when I was a teenager I developed a very special connection with my Grandma.  God rest her soul.  I remember one moment of being in her kitchen in Port Chester, New York.  I remember being with my uncles and my grandpa.  It was a night when my Grandma was not mentally lucid.  She was starting to symptoms of dimensia, and she would go in and out of periods of seemingly agonizing pain.  It was not easy to witness this hysteria, and see my grandma so anxious.  But I watched my grandpa who would respond with an inquisitive and calm statement under his breath like, "poor girl- I wonder why she's hallucinating like that".  I observed their relationship for many years- and often saw the love between my grandparents as an idealistic love.  They lived their life for each other.

In this moment, being in the small kitchen, I remember experiencing an epiphany.  I remember thinking to myself how special it was that I was able to come into this world through the ancestry of my Italian grandparents.  That I would not be who I am today if it weren't for the union of my Grandma Bianca and Grandpa Anthony.   I thought of my grandma- and her life as an Italian American immigrant.  My grandma came to America in 1915 (give or take a few years).  She grew up with her Calabrese mother and learned all of the Italian recipes.  Then, I took it upon myself to learn these same recipes.  When I think of the fact that my grandma had six sons (my dad being one of them), and then many grandchildren, I realize that her life impacted so many of us.  In many ways, we all experienced a taste of Italy being with her (literally and figuratively).   It is because of my grandma that I am in Italy today.  I feel connected to this country.

So, as I was sitting at this dinner table with my new Italian friends, and friends from work, I felt the presence of my Grandma.  Of my Italian roots.  I felt connected to my Grandma through the recipe she passed me.  Through the recipe, I felt connected with Italian friends.  Through my Italian friends, I felt connected to Italy.

I hope that after you are all reading this, that you see the importance of spending time with your grandparents.  To take in the culture that you are from- to experience the home cooking and mother tongue language.  To pass on these traditions---to keep the culture alive---to stay connected to your roots.

Vedo l'ora

It is very rare that I know what the title of a blog post is going to be before I start writing.  However, I have been thinking about this idea for a long time and I just can't wait to name it.  Non vedo l'ora.

A couple months ago when I first moved to Italy, I was watching TV when I heard the Italian phrase, "non vedo l'ora".  I was intrigued by this phrase, which is literally translated as "I don't see the hour/the time".  It is an Italian expression that translates into the English idiom, "I cannot wait"---in the sense that you are so excited that you "can't wait".   I can't wait to get married.  I can't wait to be rich.  I can't wait to move.  I can't wait to quit my job.

How interesting, I thought.... that this phrase translates into Italian as "non vedo l'ora", "I don't see the hour".  What this translation implies is that you are so excited about the future that you are focused on the fantasy of what will happen rather than what is happening in the reality of the present. 

Considering the title of my blog is ,"ora e il momento", now is the moment, I found this to be a particularly intriguing dilemma.  If "now" is the moment....but you don't see "now"...then there is a problem.  The problem is that when you live in anticipation of the future---constantly saying, "I can't wait"---you are not seeing the MOMENT of now.  You are missing out on the gift of the present...you are missing out on the present AND the gift.

So what does this mean for my life now? I have been in Italy for almost 3 months. I picked up my life and moved to a totally new place---with a different language, time zone, culture, job, etc.  This was not an easy adjustment.  The first month was a honeymoon...the second month was tough...the third month has been the most "normal" for me so far.  The initial shock of being exposed to new neighborhood streets, new people, a new curriculum and school, and a new way of life has more or less mellowed out into a feeling of comfort.  Similar to the feeling of when you enter into a cold pool---I felt like the "cold water" of Italy was quite uncomfortable and abrasive to be in for a while.  My body temperature needed to acclimate to the temperature around me---- I needed to adapt to the people and way of life here.   I now am feeling settled, and very self-aware of the change my body has been through.  Although I still have much more to adjust to, the old "temperatures" of the Atlantic Ocean are in the past now and I am feeling rather comfortable in the Mediterranean sea of Italy. One swim at a time. Piano Piano.

As our extrinsic surroundings change, it is important we allow our inner beings to adjust as well. This is inclusive of our personal relationships, physical surroundings, and way of life.  We have to adapt.  After a break up we need to adapt. After moving to a new place we need to adapt.  After a new job we need to adapt.

I have a very strong faith and I believe that God created all living things on Earth.  I believe all things living on Earth are very strongly interconnected, particularly humans and animals.  I believe we can learn very much from observing and learning about animals.  In this argument of living in the moment, animals can offer us much wisdom about adaptation and living in the moment.  Animals adapt as a means of survival.  They are not worried about what will happen in the future when they use camouflage- they are very much so living in the moment because they have to in order to live. 

I have been recently fascinated by the life of a snake. Bare with me.
The continual process of shedding old skin. 
I feel connected to this process, as I have shed many old ways of my life in order to create a new and thicker skin beneath--a new life.

The most interesting thing about the life of a snake is the process of the new skin/scales growing simultaneously as the old skin dies. Now, of course, humans shed skin as well but it is not as visually obvious.  When you see a snake's old dry thin casing, it can create a shiver knowing that a snake could be potentially nearby.  However, I recently have perceived this process of shedding as beautiful.  Although, I will confess,  if I saw one near my foot I would probably scream bloody murder and run away.  But in the hypothetical and metaphorical sense- the process if quite beautiful. n I did some research. A snake grows new skin underneath the old--and when the new skin is ready to be exposed to air---the old skin sheds off in order that the skin underneath can grow to its potential.  The process is a duality---the new skin cannot thrive without the old skin growing and the old skin cannot become withered and fall off unless the new skin is nurtured. 

I may have lost you. 

We often are scared to let go of our past.  We are scared to say goodbye to past lovers, friendships, places, ways of thinking, objects of particular affinity. Let's face it, it is easier to hold on to the comfort of the past than adjust and acclimate to a new life.  

But it is so much more beautiful if you just allow yourself to grow, to change, and to experience life in the MOMENT.  If you are living your life in a way that you "can't wait" for the future, than you do not SEE the present. 

If you are brave enough to accept the reality of what is around you in the present, I believe you will find that this way of life is a much more beautiful way of living.  Just like I have realized, slowly but surely.

You CAN wait for the future. 

See the present moment.

Vedi l'ora.

Sicily

“I’ll remember this for the rest of my life”.  This was the constant thought I had on my trip to Sicily this weekend.

Friday Night and Saturday- Taormina, L'Isola Bella:

We sat in the Rome Fumicino airport before getting on the plane to Catania, Sicily.  Joanna, Michael and I had finished a very long week of teaching and were all feeling exhausted and ready for a weekend away.  If you are a teacher, you understand the feeling of utter exhaustion that comes at the end of a Friday.  We all needed a rejuvenating and restful weekend away, out of the city of Rome.  We sat at a bar and ordered wine and mixed cheeses/meats.  We toasted to our weekend away, and then got on our small cramped Ryan Air plane.  What a beautiful thing that only an hour later, we had arrived in beautiful Catania.  Well, the intial view of Catania wasn’t exactly beautiful.  It looked quite similar to Newark airport. 

There was some confusion with our rental car, and we found ourselves frustrated that our alleged reservation wasn't turning out as planned. But, we laughed it off together.  Two hours later, we got our designated  car.  It was smelly and it was old.  But it was perfect. We started driving to our Bed and Breakfast.  We played music through our phones, since there was no audio system in the car.  We sang “lean on me” together.  I thought to myself, “this is a moment I will remember for the rest of my life.  Driving with my friends through Sicily---trying to follow the google map directions between episodes of uncontrollable laughter”.   Every time we got in the car together on our weekend away it was a team effort-  Michael driving, Joanna reading the directions, and me serving as an extra set of ears and eyes to fend off the crazy Italian drivers that could cut us off at any moment.  We finally arrived at our destination---which was a bed and breakfast down a private dirt road.  Our host guided us into the long driveway.  We finally arrived in our beautiful apartment around 11:30pm, exhausted and hungry.  Our hosts brought us green beans, cheese, meats, and wine.  Of course all of these things were homemade.

I had such a great night sleep---the cool Sicilian air keeping me just cool enough to feel comforted by the blankets on my bed.  The best part about arriving at a bed and breakfast at night is anticipating the surprise you will experience when you see your surroundings with the morning light.  When I woke up in the morning, I looked outside and saw hundreds of olive trees.  Mount Etna was in the distance. 

 

We had some coffee and jumped in the car again to go to Taormina.  With teamwork, we navigated through the streets of Sicily and smoothly reached our destination.  Taormina is enchanted---the streets are narrow and full of people.  Yet underneath the crowds of tourists and fascade of pretentious shops, exists an antiquated and historical town.  The architecture of the buildings is beautiful---they remain old and untampered with.  White stone and marble statues and designs interwoven between terracotta painted buildings.  Of course all of this sits in front of a beautiful backdrop of the Mediterranean Sea.

We stopped in a Pasticceria and ate a canoli and had coffees.  It was the best. canoli. of our lives. Creamy, delicate, smooth and delicious.  YUM!

We then wondered around the town and eventually stopped at a place overlooking the sea.  We had wine and some snacks and all sat in the sun, observing the unusual October weather and feeling fortunate to be in our summer clothes. 

After arranging a tour to go to Mount Etna for Sunday, we ventured down to the sea.  We went into a cable car down to the sea.  We went to Isola Bella, a small island which is preserved by the WWF.  It is a sanctuary for divers and wildlife conservationists.   We coaxed the security people to let us venture to the top of the island- passed the roped offed sections and up the stairs through a villa.  The villa was open air--unfinished by the architect who originally designed it.  The view from the top was spectacular.  We had felt the rush of adrenaline from "sneaking through" the prohibited areas.  We tried to offer the security women some Euro as a tip for letting us through---but they refused to let us take it.  It seemed that they received joy from watching us explore and climb to the top of the villa to see a beautiful view of their native Sicilian sea.  After, we swam in the beautiful water and relaxed on the rocky beach.  We had a nice dinner, complete with delicious seafood and white wine.  Relaxed and content, we wandered again through the main section of Taormina.  It was a beautiful day.

 

Sunday: Mount Etna

We woke up Sunday morning to a surprising and disruptive eruption…….of the coffee machine.  Somehow the coffee got too hot in the espresso machine and literally exploded all over the kitchen and living room.  OK, not “somehow”.  In fact, Mike assembled the coffee machine wrong and it was completely his fault for the mess.  HFS. Coffee grinds everywhere.  We cleaned it up and laughed about it---could’ve been worse.  Mount Etna could’ve erupted.  What we didn’t know was perhaps the coffee beans all over the kitchen was foreshadowing the black grinds of lava that we would be walking on all day.  We met our tour guide at a bus stop and jumped in the large Land Rover with a group of English and French tourists.  We started driving up Etna on a relatively smooth and secure road.  I thought to myself, “we really don’t need to be in a big Land Rover to get up this mountain”.  Then our tour guide made a sharp right and abruptly started driving off road into what seemingly looked like the middle of the forest.  We all were caught off guard and I think all saw our lives flash before our eyes as we felt the car shake and bump in every direction, at times feeling like it would tip over.  I will testify, after our excursion, that Land Rovers are in fact capable of driving through any terrain.  I felt like we should have been in Jurassic Park.  It was like being in one of those virtual reality rides where you sit with 3D goggles and enter into a fake car that moves and bumps with hydraulics.  It was like being in one of those rides…..except minus the virtual part of dodging dinosaurs and only the REALITY remaining of driving up a volcanic mountain.  We drove through molten lava---through the forest of a mountain, looking at the paths of dried lava in the distance.  Our tour guide told us that the volcano had a large eruption in 2002, and it should erupt every 10 years…except it hadn’t yet.  So it is due for an eruption.  We all crossed our fingers hoping that today wouldn’t be the day Etna would decide to unleash her magma.

 

We drove through the forest through windy trails and eventually pulled over in what looked like could have been the spot where we would get murdered and killed---in the middle of the forest, beneath the volcano. Fortunately, our tour guide was anything but threatening. He brought us to a cave, giving us lights to hold in our hands as we entered into the darkness.  The cave was created by the process of lava flowing down the mountain and cooling at rapid speeds, creating a cave composed of sulfur and igneous rock. 

 After the cave, we got back in the car for another bumpy ride.  Jo forgot to fasten her seatbelt and nearly flew to the front of the car.  Oops!  We then arrived at our next destination.  From this spot, we left the Land Rover to hike up to one of the largest craters of Mount Etna.  What we were walking on looked like little pieces of turf- tar like, squishy, and hot.  There was an endless amount of this black molten lava- disrupted only by sole plants and trees that had managed to grow through the rock.  In the distance, it was possible to see the forest---thousands of pine trees that had not been destroyed from the 2002 eruption.  So here we were, walking up these huge hills- thousands of meters above sea level.  When we got to the top of these hills the view was breathtaking.  The air was fresh---and the air was silent.  The only noise that was present was the soft sound of wind flowing over the hills.  We could see the haze rising off the rocks we were walking on.  It was beautiful to feel so at peace in an area that really is quite dangerous, given an eruption could occur any day. 

After the tour, we all were feeling accomplished and rejuvenated.   We got our dosage of nature we had been craving.  After being in the stifling heat and crowds of Rome this past month, it was so beautiful to feel at one with nature in such a beautiful part of Italy.

We all took naps on the drive down the mountain.  Before going to the airport, we were able to enjoy one last taste of Sicily.  We drove to the town next to Taormina, Giardini Naxos, and ate a delicious seafood lunch.  Then we hung out on the rocky beach and watched the water and sun blend into one color as the sun started to begin its descent.  There is only one word to describe the feeling as I laid on the rocky beach, hearing the waves crash and reflecting on my day: peace. 

Peace of feeling open to the world, in unison with nature, and connected with great human beings I have been fortunate enough to travel with and become friends with.  It is a wonderful feeling when you feel in sync with the world- like you are in the right place at the right time with the right people.  Traveling outside our comfort zone, allowing the vast world to become our home.  Walking side by side, laughing and smiling every moment, sharing the same molten lava, cobble stones, and rocky beaches beneath our feet.