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.

 

 

 

All things Roman..

It is interesting what we are able to realize in the absence of certain systems, routines, and social interactions. 

Since I have been in Italy, I have noticed the absence of many things which I considered an inherent part of my life in America.  These things range from Dunkin Donuts coffee to an uptight/stressful ambiance felt at work.  I also have experienced the presence of joy in many of the interactions I have had with my students and Italians.

It has been so difficult to pinpoint exactly how the culture is so different here, in Rome, than in New York City/New Jersey but I think there have been a few defining moments that can express these cultural distinctions.

1) The absence of a boss in a suit
     -I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I have seen men/women in suits walking with briefcases as "a boss".  Actually, I am having trouble thinking of even one instance of this.  The presence of a high ranked person in a suit and tie is really an anomaly.  In Hoboken, on the contrast, I saw countless men and women in suits rushing to work everyday.  In each one of their jobs, the expectation is that their boss would be in an even nicer suit. Here, there does not seem to be a need to impose your position on anyone else by means of attire or stature.  The   facade of "professionalism" (nice clothes, nice hair cut, nice heels/loafers), is non-existent. 
It matters more how you interact with people and how you do your job.

2) The presence of a bar in school
     -In the way that the river was a gathering point for Mesopotamia, the school bar is a place for teachers.  Not to say that our lives revolve around caffeine fixes, but the school bar is a place for teachers to plan, converse, or occasionally chug an espresso.  There is also Sambuca, if your day is particularly rough although I haven't seen anyone indulge in alcohol on my watch.

3) The emotional openness of children

     -My students are predominantly Italian.  They are passionate. They speak with their hands.  They kiss and fight. They yell, and then they make up.  They hold hands.  They hug. They are very affectionate and emotional. All the stereotypes of Italians have been proven true in just the 2 months I have spent with these kids.
     -It has been fascinating to observe the way children interact with each other and with me.  At least once or twice a day I have a student coming up to me to give me a hug. Sometimes it is the boys and sometimes it is the girls.  Boys hug each other and kiss each other on the cheek.  It is cute.
      They do not feel the need to maintain a "macho" exterior free of affection and emotions.  I read "The Giving Tree" to my class and at the end of my lesson one of my students (who happens to be a great soccer player and relatively "popular"), was almost in tears and said "But the tree is SO KIND".  He was so moved by the selfless attitude of the tree.  Him and his friends hugged each other.    Another example of a child being affectionate is when we had a discussion about the death of a staff member.  As I was discussing this delicate situation, I had two of my students
rest their heads in my lap.  It was really sweet.  

       -This next example is a sensitive issue for many---particularly Americans.  Bullying.  I had a student who asked to share a "show and tell".  I said yes, expecting the show and tell to be rather trivial.  The student stood in front of the class and said "I am sharing this little toy because my Mom bought it for me because I have been standing up to myself for people who have been making fun of me.  It's not very nice for people to make fun of me, and I think these people are doing it because they want to be cool.  But I am standing up for myself and I hope that I make friends".   You could not hear a pin drop in the classroom.  Which is saying a lot, considering my class is composed of 85% Italians.   I was TOTALLY in shock...dumbfounded by his maturity and confidence, and heart-broken by his feelings.  For a seven year old to stand in front of the class and show such emotional vulnerability.  Wow. The kids have been treating this student kindly since.
       

4) The willingness to accept change

     -For some reason in America we have developed this way of functioning on a daily basis that is so deeply embedded in routines, paradigms, and programs.   We do not like change.
     -The curriculum that my school is currently using is one that is inherently based off change.  Each teacher is encouraged to use their personal creativity and identity.  The curriculum is evolving--- it changes based off of the students response to each lesson.  It changes every semester and every year.

5) The multilingual classroom

     -Words cannot explain the challenge of having students who do not speak English in your classroom.  I have modified the pace in which I speak so that at all times I am able to communicate with students in the room.  Even speaking really slowly does not work.  I have to speak in Italian sometimes, or I resort to hand gestures in order to get my point across.   What a burden it is for these children to be in a classroom where their teacher is speaking a language that they are not able to really understand.  It takes survival instincts for them to be able to function. 
       Many of my students know 3-4 languages.  To them, it is normal. But imbedded in their lives, they have the experience of learning another language and trying their hardest to function affectively amidst a culture that will inevitably change.  They develop real world problem- solving skills.  Out of necessity.

   6)  Nightlife
      
         -Hundreds of Italians hanging out, sitting on marble steps in a piazza.  Or on cobble stones.. Or maybe leaning against Fiats on the side of the road. They have wine or beer. And surrounding the piazza are several bars that are full of people---the sound of people's voices. 
          Not a single sound of a DJ blasting the TOP40 hits.  What a stark contrast to bars in New Jersey--particularly Hoboken or Morristown.  Not that I have anything against these places, because I always have fun when I am with my friends there.  But really these bars play music SO LOUD.  It is impossible to have a conversation with people.  In Rome, people go out IN ORDER to have conversations with each other.  So the music would not be turned up so loud at a typical bar.

          This past weekend I was out at a bar that was playing Latin American music---a live band. There was a very visibly pregnant woman dancing her heart out.  My first thought was ---"why is a pregnant woman out of a bar".  It was a moment where I had to stop myself and say..."wait a second...why do you think this is weird?"   I thought it was so weird to see because in America we assume that if you are out at a bar you are going to drink.  And we think pregnant people quite frankly shouldn't be dancing in a tank top.   But this woman was having such a great time dancing with her friends/family.....it was probably so good for her, and for her baby.  It was a moment of culture shock.  Sad to say. But really, if I was out in Morristown and I saw a pregnant woman dancing in the middle of the dance floor- I would probably be totally  shocked.  Here, it was no big deal.  It was beautiful.


Let the adventures continue....   :)