June 16, 2002 - The Sagra del Pesce
Speck-on-the-map Calzolaro is the site of the annual Sagra del Pesce, Sacred Feast of the Fish. Summer is the time for a plenitude of sagras -- for the olives,
for different breads, for the famous bistecca Fiorentina...
if you can eat it, there is a sagra somewhere. Far from
a religious feast, it is much more akin to an east coast
church carnival with food tents, rides, and vendors.
In fact, the Sagra del Pesce, with its jam-packed dance
floor, was St. Casamir's Carnival meets Lawrence
Welk. All they were missing were the funnel cakes.
The menu was all fish... frutti di mare, mussels,
seafood salad, seafood risotto, a fried fish platter, a grilled fish platter. If they could have come up with a fish dessert...
We snagged a "menu" and defended our place in the food line elbows akimbo. Next was the bar line for bottles of wine (white and red), then off to the big tent for a table. Seating was at long picnic benches, sharing space with other families and groups of friends. We were lucky enough to share with 3 men and their early teenage sons. Once the dads realized we were English speakers, they cuffed the kids on the head and exhorted them to "Practice your English. Go, practice, practice!" The boys were very sweet -- not as horrified as American teens would be they asked questions. "Do you like pizza?" "Are you from the north or south?" The dads kept buying us wine, t-shirts, food... it was all very generous and goodnatured. One of the guys was a magician -- Kenzo the magnificent. He entertained us with slight of hand... made a rose appear from my ear, did the disappearing ball trick. He was quite good. Although I know the mechanics of the trick, I could not see him do it. After a couple turns around the park to watch the dancers, I went home with the hard to find Sagra t-shirt that one of the guys arm-twisted an organizer into giving me. I love this place!
Small business advisory services
Its ironic, given my headlong flight from Embarcadero 3 to Italy, but I've been engaged to do some small business advisory work here. The bulk of it is simple process efficiency analysis and reengineering... easy stuff for me, but its been a great way to flex old brain muscles. It's been a happy balance to gardening and property management. My little office is set up on the ground floor of the apartment with all the tools I need: a laptop, a color printer, a stapler, scissors, a few colored highlighters. I am omnipotent when I have highlighters. One client is a 2-year old internet services provider (web hosting, web design, email access point, ISP, etc.) that is growing too fast with no business person at the wheel. The longer I am here, the more people seem to want my help and/or opinion. Cool... I like being asked for my opinion. I especially like being paid for my opinion.
June 5, 2002
Today was market day in Umbertide and for the first time I sallied forth, foraging in the market as an Umbertidese. First to the café for tea and a pastry, then across the road for housewares and clothes. I found some great throw rugs and few kitchen essentials (teapot) to make the homestead more comfortable. Finally, into the fruit and vegetable vendors for tomatoes, peas, cucumbers and freshly dug potatoes. Ah, big city living.
Katherine and Jan stopped by in the evening for an aperativo before their dinner -- my first real guests. To celebrate, I opened a bottle of Prosecco (Italian champagne). It feels great to be settled in a new home with good friends nearby.
June 4
An odd day. Today I had to break up with someone I've never gone out with. Matti, the young guy living at my old house in Pantano, had ben invited to my birthday festa. (Tacy thought he looked like a young Aidan Quinn.) After the party, he helped me carry things back to the apartment, made a lunge for me and was gently sent home. He began calling 4-5 times a day, sending text messages. One text message said, "Ailuvyukatiabonanotte." For the uninitiated that is, "I love you, Katia. Good night." A good defense being a strong offense, I made a date to meet him.
Picture discussing something this delicate with someone you don't know and with no common language. How do you firmly get across that he is not going to be your boyfriend without being too brusque? Considering the language barrier, it went well. It took an hour. I steered him to Bar Coletti, went in and ordered two big beers. I can't be subtle in Italian, so my opener was direct. "I don't want a boyfriend." He argued a few points... How the world is all about love... That there is no age difference that cannot be overcome by love.... That all I needed was time and he was patient. There was much hand clutching and angry gesturing. It was frustrating, but I fell back on "I don't understand" whenever he got animated. My cynical side believes that he saw a ticket to the US. I'll put it another way, my cynical side thinks that his naïve side saw a ticket to the US. Perhaps its not that blatant, but it is there. In any case, I finished by saying I had a hard heart and that he should not wait or hope for a change. I last saw him leaning on the wall by my apartment, staring at the stones. Later, I found a flower in the door. Sweet, eh? Not an easy situation but a damned good practice session for impromptu language skills.
June 1
Melchiorre and Jan threw me a big birthday party at Melchiorre's house. Stefano made bruschetta with artichoke and olive pate. Melchiorre and Jan made cinghiale with polenta, German potato salad (go figure), and green salad. Paola made beautiful frittatas with cauliflower and green beans. Mark and Elizabeth brought a huge sponge cake with cream filling and fresh fruit. It was all soooo good. There were 20 or so guests, including Cinzia and Luciana (who owns my favorite accessories store). We ate heartily, drank liberally and danced up a storm. People surprised me with lovely gifts... a mother of pearl frame, a gorgeous green sequined scarf, a handmade purple bead necklace, a tiny glass globe (so I can hold the world in the palm of my hand). I think everyone enjoyed themselves. Lenny, Sara, Cinzia and Melchiorre danced like dervishes. Matti DJ-ed. The room felt full of warmth and joy. Or maybe that was just the champagne.
Melchiorre's place is fast becoming a real farm. He now has 5 pigs... 1 male and 4 unlucky females. The male is enormous! More like a VW than an animal... so large his own bulk weighs him down. He spends most of his time sleeping. When he eats, he pushes right into the trough, shouldering his harem aside. The creature has (excuse the graphic material) balls the size of a backpack. Perhaps another reason why he lays down so much. Aside from the amazing pig,
I found an unusual little place in the old historic district of Umbertide. Umbertide's history goes back to the 1200 and 1300's. Originally it was an old fortress, surrounded by a moat made from the Tiber River and another smaller torrent. My apartment is right in the old walls of the city, overlooking the Tiber as it flows by on its way down to Rome. Its an unusual place... one room at street level (which I use as an office) then a stairway down to a kitchen, bath, livingroom and bedroom overlooking the river. The unique thing about the place is an old spring (which may have been part of the original aqueduct) that was incorporated into the design. Water drips from the ancient rock walls into two pools in my livingroom. I live with the soothing sound of running water. It sounds odd, I know but I am enjoying it. It gets very hot here in the summer and my apartment stays cool and refreshing. Living in town has proved to be fun. I can hear the church bells, watch the fishermen under my windows, meet friends spontaneously, walk into the piazza for tea and a pastry in the morning. Altogether lovely.
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2002
