Notizie Dal Mio Cuore - 20
What do you have when you put three Swedes, a Spainard, Three French and an American at a table for dinner talking Italian?
La mia vita.
Welcome to my life. Or I should say “Benvenuto a la mia vita.” Recently I had the privilege of taking part in a new festa (holiday) for me…. Santa Lucia. The holiday that celebrates light and the Saint (Lucia) who does something with eyes and fishermen. I’m not quite sure what because I made Anna explain the holiday and of course she’s at level three at the italian language school I am now attending every day for 4 hours a day and I am at level two. But I understood a great deal of it. It’s a real challenge to speak Italian. It’s also a tremendous challenge to understand it. THEN add a swedish accent or a french accent or (god forbid!) a spanish accent! But believe it or not I understood most of what was said. More and more I understand what is being said to me. Maybe that’s because my new friend from school (I feel like I’m 12 again!) - Yoichi - is from Japan. Yoichi and I spend a good amount of time together. We’ve spent hours doing nothing but speaking Italian. I’ve taught him how to roll his “r’s” and not his “l’s” which is hard for Japanese. But we have conversations (although I am convinced we are both making up words and simultaneously agreeing they are correct). And I listen to him and understand more and more of what is being said. It’s not important to be right at first. It’s important to speak. It’s important to feel comfortable in a new language. It’s important to understand that when the tassista (taxi driver) says he wants to carry me with an embrace to my door he means the car in front of the door of my palazzo and not he himself actually taking me there. (Which I regret a bit because he was piu or menu attractive).
I’ve not written in awhile. I’ve not written in a lifetime. A lifetime has occurred since last I wrote. So much that it overwhelmed me when I thought to sit down and tell you. To share. Thanksgiving in Italy (see photo of happy table), Halloween (see photo of my decorative surprise on my landlady’s door… she LOVED it “carina!”)
Or the fact that, starting January 31st, I am now a faculty member at the Florence University of the Arts teaching a class called “Introduction to Memoir.” How did this happen? I certainly didn’t look for it. I certainly didn’t think “when I move to Florence I would like to teach a writing class at a college level” (or at any level for that matter). But I DID think my writing would get emphasized here. That I did . . . think or…. feel. And I am so excited. Just thinking about structuring the course for 14 weeks, of taking these students on a journey to use themselves to create something…. this excites me at such a deep level. The fact that I’ve never taught writing and couldn’t put a grammatically correct sentence together if my life depended on it (in English… in italian… someday… maybe…) just isn’t important. As I’ve said before, my role here is to say yes to everything.
I had dinner at my boss’ house (my Syracuse University Florence boss, Barbara, not my Syracuse New York boss or my Florence University for the Arts boss) with 9 other women. Fascinating. The U. S. Consulate General for Tuscany was there. Until this assignment she was a mediator for middle east concerns. She speaks a billion languages, has three kids and I think did really well at a table full of extreme liberal italian communists, a new york democrat (not me) and one or two American Bush-bashers (also not me). Politics is fascinating in Florence. EVERYONE is a liberal. And all the liberals think they are open and inclusive unless of course you are a conservative, an American who voted for Bush, an Italian who voted for Berlusconi (and no italian I have met either voted for him or knows anyone who did) THEN you are not…. quite as …. welcome.
But politics for another day! (Although I did attend a “debate” in the 5th century room at the Palazzo Vecchio on globalization which was so fascinating. The room, first of all, is amazing – frescoes everywhere of famous battles from centuries past. And there, in the midst of it were two American conservatives and four liberal Tuscans ….. debating (and I use that term lightly)….. Looking at those frescos, listening to the “debate”……. intellectually stimulated me and spiritually saddened me. Nothing has changed. Non cambia mai.
Alfonse was here and looks gorgeous with his new hair cut!!! (See photos) Poor boy. He came just as I started my intensive 20 hour a week italian classes, just as the weather turned cold and wet wet wet, (see photo of the arno which, yes, really does look like that in the rain. Also see photo of Bari and Alfonse eating in outdoor wear indoors (but we’ll discuss my lovely apartment next time!)) and he also came just as I was forgetting that I lived in one of the most beautiful places in the world. But he reminded me. Not only did he remind me, but he taught me things about my city ….. my home….. that I didn’t know.
This city is, of course, hundreds of years old. If you talk to a Florentine they speak of it with love and with …. not hate, but regret. Regret that it can’t change and enter the new world while at the same time not wanting to change a moment of it. For example, when they have “modern art” exhibits here it means work from artists after the 17th century. I kid you not. In one sense this is a problem. In another sense, if you understand the history of this city while you walk through its streets, its buildings…. you can’t feel this is history that is dead but very much alive. And certainly celebrated. 1,000,000 Americans come here every year. And 10,000 students come to study (that’s what the consulate told me). There is a reason. It’s in the stones. It’s in the air. And when it’s cold and wet and your head is full of the condizionale verb form for “to know”…. it’s easy to forget….. but when you have a friend who brings history and art and city structures to life….. it’s a joy to remember.
I am blessed. This I know. I know very little anymore. But this I know. Which I think, for now is also a blessing.
Ciao cari ragazzi! Ci scriviamo, va bene?
Bari
