Ciao di nuovo,
I never would have thought that I would become a compulsive blogger, but what happened this afternoon is just too wonderful, proprio bello. Today I really experienced Italian hospitality. I was working on lesson plans when the doorbell rang again. When I peeped through the spyglass, I saw a young men whom I did not recognize, so I didn't open the door. I returned to my desk, but the bell kept ringing, this time with more insistence, and I meanwhile I heard the voices of the signora. When I finally opened the door, there was the signora, who was very worried on account of my delay, and the same young man, who turned out to be her grandson. She insisted on giving me stuffed mushrooms and a piece of chocolate cake, which I accepted with very little persuasion. At first I refused her offer of pasta, but she was so kind and so persistent that I accepted, but offered to come pick it up from her house. To make a long story short, I ended up in the middle of an Italian Sunday lunch.
There was the signora, her husband, and their daughter, who was accompanied by her husband, and of course, their son. A merrier, more animated group I have never found myself with. I don't think that a single sentence was spoken throughout; they sang or intoned, but never did anything so mundane as spoke. I was hard put to concentrate on either the food or the conversation. (Wise were the words of the grandfather, who admonished the others when they asked me questions: Chi mangia non parla/either talke or eat, but don't do both.)The signora had made the pasta by hand, along with the sauce, the vitello and sausiccio, and the mushrooms. Her daughter had made the cake, which was lined with nutella and the lightest cake that I have ever eaten.
It was wonderful to find myself in the middle of a family again, three thousand miles away from my own family. And now for Jane Austen!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Ciao a tutti!
Dear friends, family, and colleagues,
It's hard to believe that I have now been in Italy for two weeks. Having more or less settled in, I thought that it was time to start the long-promised blog. I will do my very best to update the blog regularly; there is so much that I would like to share with you.
But where to start? These past two weeks have been crammed with experiences. Let me start with Matera itself. I feel very lucky to have been assigned Matera. Without being too small, it is small enough that after two weeks I can find my way around (and for those of you who know my sense of direction, that's saying something!). Fortunately, everything is centered around the Piazza Vittorio Veneto. Whenever I get lost, all I have to do is leave whatever tiny street I have landed in and make my way to a larger street, which will eventually lead to the piazza. The street names are evocative of a rich history and geography-- Via Lucana, Via XX settembre, Via IX novembre, Via Dante... There is even a street, though I have not found it yet, named after the author of Pinnochio (Carlo Collodi). Before I leave I must learn the history behind all of these names.
I also consider myself fortunate to be in Matera because of the city's people. The two teachers whom I will assist are fantastic. We joke that I have already found quattro mamme (four surrogate mothers) here in Matera, and that I will find even more. I live with two other girls, both students at a religious school, and they have also taken me under their wing. Last night was the first time in two weeks that I cooked a full meal for myself: Up until then I had enjoyed Maria Pia's cooking. Pasta con basilico, brodino con vegetali, pasta e mortadella-- These vague names reconstructed from memory do not do justice to the meals that we have enjoyed. Time permitting, I have going to keep a journal dedicated to the meals prepared by my flatmates. And perhaps the year will end with my actually cooking for them!
Indeed, I could do no less than learn about cooking while I am in Italy. (No potrei fare a meno d'imparare a cucinare che sono in Italia.) Meals are very important here. My flatmates discuss with great seriousness what is to be eaten at lunch and dinner, and rarely do we congregate for a meal of less than two courses. When we meet our neighbors, conversations often include discussion about what has been or what is to be eaten that day. As I was writing this post, the doorbell rang: It was the two signore across the hall. They wanted to make sure that I was doing well and that I had enough to eat. I reported what I had eaten for breakfast and what I planned to eat for lunch. "Pasta" would not suffice as an answer; the signora wanted to make sure that there was sauce to accompany it, but she seemed content when I replied that I had no sauce, but some cheese to put on top.
Tomorrow is my first day as an assistant of English. (The past two weeks were taken up with settling in and then a three-day orientation in Rome at the Ministero dell'Istruzione e della Ricerca). I have prepared a powerppoint presentation on my vicissitudes from coast to coast, and scenes of Fairfax and D.C.. Then, within the next week, I am going to talk to the classes about Jane Austen. Oh, joy and rapture unforeseen! Although I had expected to talk only about American culture, the teachers are required to teach Jane Austen and having discovered my enthusiasm for her work, they asked me to prepare a presentation. It's a wonderful prospect, teaching Jane Austen, but at the same time daunting. Where, oh where, does one start? And, unfortunately, Jane Austen must be my excuse (but a very good one, I think) for closing this post. I need to work on lesson plans for the next week. Ma ci sentiamo presto!
It's hard to believe that I have now been in Italy for two weeks. Having more or less settled in, I thought that it was time to start the long-promised blog. I will do my very best to update the blog regularly; there is so much that I would like to share with you.
But where to start? These past two weeks have been crammed with experiences. Let me start with Matera itself. I feel very lucky to have been assigned Matera. Without being too small, it is small enough that after two weeks I can find my way around (and for those of you who know my sense of direction, that's saying something!). Fortunately, everything is centered around the Piazza Vittorio Veneto. Whenever I get lost, all I have to do is leave whatever tiny street I have landed in and make my way to a larger street, which will eventually lead to the piazza. The street names are evocative of a rich history and geography-- Via Lucana, Via XX settembre, Via IX novembre, Via Dante... There is even a street, though I have not found it yet, named after the author of Pinnochio (Carlo Collodi). Before I leave I must learn the history behind all of these names.
I also consider myself fortunate to be in Matera because of the city's people. The two teachers whom I will assist are fantastic. We joke that I have already found quattro mamme (four surrogate mothers) here in Matera, and that I will find even more. I live with two other girls, both students at a religious school, and they have also taken me under their wing. Last night was the first time in two weeks that I cooked a full meal for myself: Up until then I had enjoyed Maria Pia's cooking. Pasta con basilico, brodino con vegetali, pasta e mortadella-- These vague names reconstructed from memory do not do justice to the meals that we have enjoyed. Time permitting, I have going to keep a journal dedicated to the meals prepared by my flatmates. And perhaps the year will end with my actually cooking for them!
Indeed, I could do no less than learn about cooking while I am in Italy. (No potrei fare a meno d'imparare a cucinare che sono in Italia.) Meals are very important here. My flatmates discuss with great seriousness what is to be eaten at lunch and dinner, and rarely do we congregate for a meal of less than two courses. When we meet our neighbors, conversations often include discussion about what has been or what is to be eaten that day. As I was writing this post, the doorbell rang: It was the two signore across the hall. They wanted to make sure that I was doing well and that I had enough to eat. I reported what I had eaten for breakfast and what I planned to eat for lunch. "Pasta" would not suffice as an answer; the signora wanted to make sure that there was sauce to accompany it, but she seemed content when I replied that I had no sauce, but some cheese to put on top.
Tomorrow is my first day as an assistant of English. (The past two weeks were taken up with settling in and then a three-day orientation in Rome at the Ministero dell'Istruzione e della Ricerca). I have prepared a powerppoint presentation on my vicissitudes from coast to coast, and scenes of Fairfax and D.C.. Then, within the next week, I am going to talk to the classes about Jane Austen. Oh, joy and rapture unforeseen! Although I had expected to talk only about American culture, the teachers are required to teach Jane Austen and having discovered my enthusiasm for her work, they asked me to prepare a presentation. It's a wonderful prospect, teaching Jane Austen, but at the same time daunting. Where, oh where, does one start? And, unfortunately, Jane Austen must be my excuse (but a very good one, I think) for closing this post. I need to work on lesson plans for the next week. Ma ci sentiamo presto!
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