April 21
A beautiful spring day! Spring here is a bit hotter than back home... by midday you are in your shirtsleeves, wishing you'd remembered the sunscreen. I worked in the garden until 12:30, then drove over to Helen's to pick her up for our lunch with the Freulanders -- Peter and Irmgard. They live in an old stone farmhouse up in the hills. (Doesn't everyone?) There home is a bit different though... the gardens are set up to remind you of a villa, a more formal setting with oleanders, roses and green hedges. Our hosts had set the table outside -- my first lunch outside this year.
Peter gave me a tour of the house... an old farmhouse that they have given a very spare, modern feel. The Freulanders are art collectors. The walls are white and covered with large, bold works that alter the scale of the rooms. Most casa colonicas feel cozy (or closed in, if they are very traditional). This one felt wide open and soaring... a nice change. I saw a Dali model by the fireplace and the final sculpture in the livingroom. You can tell that art is a passion for Peter. Not an investment or a status symbol, a genuine delight.
We sat outside and had a zucchini dish as a primi, then pasta for our main meal. White wine, water and after, Turkish coffee and cookies. Again, the four of us got on easily with conversation flowing from topic to topic, person to person nothing forced. It's a great experience to meet new people and feel that connection right away.
Peter did spirit me away to see the photo album of the school, named for their daughter, who is Sri Lankan. Its inspiring. The principal comes to Italy now and again to visit. She is a local villager from a poor family. Normally, a poor woman would not have an opportunity to run a school, but the Freulanders do things to make sense, not to follow tradition. The principal brought photos with her and created the album for them. They included shots of the school -- individual buildings for each classroom, as well as dining halls and teacher housing and grounds. What really struck me were the pages of faces... so many of the children, in ones and twos, with dark pants, white shirts, little ties and huge, white smiles. Originally, the idea was to teach only village girls (who have less opportunities in life). They've opened the school to little boys as well, but it remains a predominantly female establishment. The curriculum includes the usual math, science, computers but they also manage to offer dance, art, and music, as well as English, German and Italian languages.
There were many photos of different ceremonies... with the German ambassador, with a Sri Lankan dignitary, etc. By far the most colorful and joyous series was of the students day at the beach. The men in the village are mostly fisherman. For some reason I did not understand, the women are not allowed to go down to the beach. The album showed these pictures of the little girls and their teachers, all dressed in colorful saris, at the beach for the first time in there lives. The delight on the faces... the little girls and the teachers. It was the first time the principal had ever been to the beach!
April 20
Easter is a big holiday here. Not the bunny rabbit, chocolate egg type of holiday... the real thing. Religion, church, multiple days off, family picnics... the like. I am not religious in the least, but I was invited to a concert Easter evening at a beautiful old abbey outside of town. The abbey was built around 1000 years ago -- a dramatic Romanesque building in the traditional long cross shape. At this abbey, there is an upper floor and a floor below the ground. The upper has the towering ceiling and tall columns. Downstairs it is more intimate -- and damp and cold -- but still lovely, made of stone with vaulted ceilings and many columns. When we arrived, the singers were still practicing. It sent chills up my spine to hear the tenor's voice resonating through the vaults.
We heard a soprano, a mezzo soprano, a tenor, a baritone and a chorus doing a variety of classical works... pieces from Handel's Messiah, work by Verdi, Rossigni and others. The performances were very good. Good enough that the incredibly hard benches were livable for a little over an hour. The church was full Italians, Germans, Americans, Brits... and a Canadian, my friend Helen. After the concert, we rounded a group up for an after-performance drink at Bar Gardino. Helen had invited her neighbors, the Freulanders, a German couple , who live in Heidelberg most of the year. There were about 7 of us together, but by the end it was Helen, the Freulanders and me having a great conversation about politics, the US government and life in general. An interesting couple, and very charming.
The Freulanders have built and sponsor a school for poor children in Sri Lanka. We got to talking about travel adventures, and he mentioned that they are always on the lookout for teachers. The school includes a pre-school and goes up through about 8th grade, I think. They have teachers from Sri Lanka, but also Germans doing their civil service and whoever else Peter can find who is eager and willing to tackle the adventure. From what he described, they have an interesting set up. There is an experienced teacher for each classroom, but they take young teachers and pair them with the experienced teachers... like teachers aides except that after a short time helping and watching, the new teacher must also lead the class.
After quite an in depth conversation, we finally noticed that the barista wanted to go home. As we were putting our coats on, Peter invited us to lunch the next day. Sweet!
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
Springtime has been beautiful. A chorus line of swaying daffodils dot the hillside heading up to the pool. I planted over $100 worth of bulbs last fall... white Mt. Hood daffodils mixed with deep rose tulips... Red Emperors ringed by yellow Turkish species tulips.... clusters of the palest green Ice Follies daffodils planted with cream and yellow narcissus... deep yellow Lord Alfred daffys underplanted with purple crocus. There is such a payoff in the spring, when the cold lifts and color leaps out of the bare earth. The gardens up here were a sight for frost-dimmed eyes. The grounds are planted thickly with fruit and nut trees so we have early color, the pale pinks and roses. Its like a second snowfall when all the petals come down. Coming up the road today, I was struck by the vivid apple green of the new leaves.
Katherine asked me to make a couple dry arrangements for the mantles. Off I trudged into the woods with a basket and shears, searching for visually interesting items... old seedpods, new catkins, interesting branches. Luigina calls me the Mistress of Dead Things. She favors fresh flowers as decoration, so my arrangements of old oak leaves, dried teasels and various seedpods strike her as a little odd. She just laughs.
There is almost nothing better than pottering about in the woods, gathering things for the houses. I found a pile of old mistletoe that Pino had cut out of the oak trees, the bark turned burgundy with age. There were new green catkins dangling from long stems. Last year's oak seedlings, still holding onto their leaves... and fresh white blossoms from the wild plum trees. A mix of old and new. Later in summer, the wild grasses make good arrangements. They vary in shape and color, from deepest green to palest gold. Il Cielo still has two arrangements of wild grasses that I did last summer. If you pick the greenery at the right moment, it holds its color and lasts for months.
When I come back to the US, do I want to be a gardener or a florist?
Cravings
Yesterday I had the deepest desire for a hamburger. One of those cravings that is so profound, and so impossible to satisfy, that I felt weepy. All those ads... juicy mile-high burgers, artfully arranged cheese melting over the edge, serous sesame seed bun, a smile of red tomato, the giddy frill of green lettuce. Then, the payoff when you bite down. Oh heavens. Served with tangy ketchup and golden, crisp fries.
Tonight I am meeting Elizabeth for pizza. Its good pizza... but its pizza. Last week Paola made a great pasta dish -- Ravioli Nudi. Its the ravioli stuffing, without the pasta, served with a light sauce. Its fabulous... savory, spinachy... but its pasta. This week, nothing sways me. A serious burger from a serious burger joint Zuni, Sparky's, Mel's.
April 13
I have picked up a touch of this terrible flu that is going around. Its only a touch... but enough that I am tired and want to sleep all the time. I had the rotten body aches and fever for about a day, then it became this low grade annoyance. Bleh. Its been raining off and on, in thunderstorms and hail, for the past 3 days. That's some consolation. Being sick on a sunny day is worse.
April 11
Lenny is in the hospital with a serious liver malfunction. They have not pinned down the cause but the fact is that there is damage and the liver isn't functioning properly. Katherine will probably fly him back to the US in th next week. We are all worried.
For the moment, they are staying in the Umbertide hospital. I was surprised to find out that hospitals here do not provide everything, the way we are accustomed. The family comes every day and brings food, towels, toilet paper. The nurses clean the room, change the linens on the bed and take blood pressure, blood, give meds... but the rest is up to the family. Stefano said, and he was only half joking... that you are guaranteed a bed but you could starve to death in an Italian hospital unless you have family.
War
Saturday there will be another peace demonstration. Umbertide has one every weekend. Though not as heavily attended as they were a month ago, they are organized. I stopped by the "peace table" in the market to say hello to Maurizio, our peace movement strategist, and see what was next on the agenda. A boycott. I have no idea if it is an Umbertide boycott, an Italian boycott or a European boycott but all products from the US, UK, Spain and Israel are on the list. Actually, there is no list that I can find... just an announcement not to buy products from the offending nations. But how do you know what those products are?
Someone asked me if peace demonstrations ever make a difference. I haven't done any research into this, but off the top of my head I'd offer a quavering yes. In a short-term timeframe, no. I have a hard time imaging any president, let alone this one, waking up and saying, "Damn it, I may not agree, but I cannot go against the wishes of the people." Even the poll-driven Clinton government didn't change policy like that.
Demonstrations are more like Chinese water torture -- a steadily tapping message that creeps into the national brainpan. The protestors' initial opinion may not be embraced, but in time the tone and tenor of the administration may shift. Speaking your piece is important. And if a majority of the US people do not agree with this pre-emptive policy, it is important that we keep reminding the President that we are not with him. Over time, he may rethink his stance. Part of it could be "face saving". Pre-election polls can work miracles.
This war against Iraq has provoked such a large, internationally organized population of "peace mongers" in every country. Newspapers take notice, essays are written, opinion pieces appear. The angles and complexities of the situation are examined and re-examined. The administrations failings are discussed. The pros and cons of the war are discussed. An administration (even this one) has doves within... well camouflaged though they must be. (Can you imagine working with Don Rumsfeld every day? It might make you contemplate suicide bombing.) Perhaps there was no hope of averting the war but there is always hope of moderating direction or modulating the voice the country speaks with. Short of a hand puppet, we are hamstrung with Bush. But think how lucky we are to have Powell in this group of cave dwellers. He is a Renaissance man among Inquisitionists. Someone like Rumsfeld, our beloved secretary of Defense, is cut from old cloth... Nixonian sabre tooth tiger skin. He will not hear anything and be swayed. His head is made of rock and, like an authoritarian father, he thinks in terms of punishment and reward. He is our unfortunate anachronism.
Maybe it's not clear to a lot of Americans what the Europeans are so inflamed about. Its not just Iraq. Its easy to say that its money and economic self interest. It's easy to say that France is still stewing about losing its place in world influence. (What was that place?) Its easy to say "we bailed them out in WWII" as if any bad behavior on our part is wiped away by something that happened over 50 years ago. (In fact, that WWII line is far too easy to fall back on and we should stop now.) From what I read, European anger has been brewing for a while now, and it derives from US behavior. We've been blind to it for 10 years. This is not just a George Bush thing, though he has raised our conceit to new heights. We have become increasingly more arrogant and obvious in our own self-interest ... bullying countries into agreements and pacts that suit our needs, while offering little in return. Or reneging on what we've promised. We show blatant disregard of world governing bodies and treaties. The world court, the Kyoto accord, the UN... none are perfect (nor particularly efficient), but they are the agreed upon tools we have to work with the rest of the world for global initiatives. We are the "do as I say, not as I do" nation. Can you begin to imagine how annoying we have become? But we own all the toys on the block, as we like to keep reminding everyone. And we saved their ass in WWII.
Just because we are the biggest kid on the block doesn't mean we don't have an obligation to play nice.
April 5
Evidently, I am fated not to tell anyone about my February and March adventures. Last week, my hard drive kicked the bucket. Monday I was happily updating my journal document, and Tuesday the computer would not start up.
I went back to Perugia and showed them the error message, fingers crossed that I would escape death yet again. But this time, my number came up. Niente. Nada. Nothing. So, it was back to the proverbial drawing board. I had to buy a new laptop. Not a NEW laptop, a refurbished, slightly pre-owned clone. No name, no record... just a black laptop. The brand is "notebook". Very... generic. A stealth device. If the old one had only hung on another 3 months.
So, I lost all my musings for the last two months. Take my word; they were amusing. Especially the piece about the pasta aisle. And the dancers in Perugia. Such is life. I have a new tack for catching up on the site. I'll write about what is happening now, while its fresh in my mind. Over time I will reminisce about the last two months. If you are interested, you can read back through the archive. Otherwise I'll take so long catching up on old news the fresh stuff will wilt. Deal?
Today was a balmy spring day. Most of the morning was spent at Café Centrale sitting with a continually changing group of friends, sipping cappuccino and watching the market bustle. The piazza was full of fruit and vegetable vendors, cheese stalls, fresh flowers and the big porchetta truck. So many colors and smells... Huge oranges with bright green leaves still attached a young man hacking the stems off purple artichokes... white wheels of pecorino cheese and flat, salted slabs of baccala. And the inevitable business-minded Italian women in dark dresses and flat shoes examining tomatoes for bruises and chatting to friends. All the local luminaries were there... Lorenzo from Busatti Linen; Melchiorre; Anna, the town secretary; Bruno the hair cutter But, after noon the wind kicked up and the sun disappeared, so I came home to do a little work.
I do work! The writing makes it sound like a lounge all day. The reality is, there is always something to do. The tourist season begins this weekend for us. I have been working to get the houses and gardens organized and ready. In fact, this week has been stressful. When my computer died, it took all my work for Altabella with it. Luckily, I'd either emailed copies or printed everything out. But I still had to re-enter a ton of data. Shades of the old days, I was up until 5:30am Monday night getting ready for a meeting Tuesday. It was time to present the finalized forms, lists and information sheets I've been working on. It's really far easier to be a gardener... there is no work at 5:30am. You might lose some sleep if you are fixated... if you worry about rose mildew or drought, or porcupines and marauding slugs . Mostly, you work in fresh air and when you are finished, go home. It works for me.
But I enjoy the computer work. The last 6 months have been spent trying to collate 10 years worth of information into manageable, coherent forms and processes. Its not hard, but it is time consuming. Coaxing busy people to stop working, sit, think and review materials is difficult. Getting people to agree and give feedback is harder. It's just like KPMG. The work is easy; the people make it challenging. A universal truth.
At this point, most of the materials just need final polishing. But I am deep into collating and organizing a more comprehensive book of tourist information -- suggestions for shopping, restaurants, little known yet worthwhile sights, some sample itineraries. Probably, I am attempting something too all encompassing. But I'm on a roll. Some of it I've posted on my own website (festivals and events). Most of that information is from the hostetler.net site but I've spent time culling through local brochures and booklets for additional odd events and tiny festivals. Very time consuming When its finished though, I'll really feel like I know the area well. Just in time to leave it...
2003
