Celebrate Womanhood!

Auguri!  Today is International Women's Day, or la festa delle donne as they call it in Italy.  Unfortunately, my mom left Basilicata yesterday afternoon so we're not able to celebrate it together.  I can't find mimosa blossoms in our village; at our elevation they haven't opened yet.  They'd have snow on them anyway, as we received another dose of white last night.

Even though we can't go our for a cena speciale together, as is the tradition, I'm still dedicating Women's Day to my mamma, who made many sacrifices, worked her hiney off, and dealt with many obstacles to raise her three children on her own.  She had help and a can-do-attitude role model in her mother, of course.  I am proud to descend from some amazing woman.  So, buona festa to mamma...and to all you wonderful women reading my blog.  Auguri!

Read about the history of Women's Day in this post from a few years ago.

Read some of the Biographies of Notable Women, which offers countless examples of awesome, touching, or odds-defying women.  Famous Female Firsts is a slide-show presentation of ground-breaking gals.

Inevitabilities

Life has certain inevitabilities.  I'm sure you already know that.  Death and taxes are, of course, the most famous.  Living in Italy inevitably means bureaucracy must be mucked through, or that the one time something busts is the one day that the ferramenta (hardware store) is closed.

If you're from Cleveland, it's inevitable that you'll root for a losing team.  Oh sure, you'll get your hopes up at the start of the season, but in the back of your mind you know it's all for naught.  You just get used to annual sports disappointments.  Washingtonians know that traffic is as sure as death and taxes, especially if the President is out and about.  For me, monthly chocolate cravings are inevitable. Not just a little desire for a piece of chocolate, but a ravenous *need* for cioccolato (the darker the better). 

And in my family it is inevitable that the minute my mom steps foot on an airplane to travel away from the cold, snowy, frigid winter of northern Ohio for a milder clime, the weather in said clime will go to pot.  Every.  Time.

Cleveland Lighthouse encased in ice

We had been enjoying sunny, spring-like weather for a weeks.  The almond tree in the garden below us was in full blossom.  The barista had a nice spray of mimosa, the traditional flower for the upcoming festa della donna.  We were taking walks in the countryside and went so far as to have a picnic one Sunday, with gelato afterwards. 

Then.  Mom arrived at Cleveland airport, and at the exact moment that she crosssed from the jetway into the plane the weather went to hell in a handbasket and a frigid cold descended.  We had a nice dusting of snow with a thin, slick layer of ice crystals nested on top.  In fact, some of the white stuff even sprinkled its cold fairy dust on Naples, a nearly unheard-of happening.

It's now windy and finger-numbing cold.  Not the kind of lake-effect, bone-penetrating cold of northern Ohio, I'll grant you.  But enough to make Mom an unhappy camper. 

Snow on the village



But what can you do with the weather and Murphy's Law?  We'll muddle through it, see the splendors of Matera, the unusual formations of Aliano, and some other unknown hill towns.  We're sure to eat some wonderful local fare to give her a sampling of our region.  We'll just have to indulge in cioccolata calda instead of gelato as a daily treat.  And, as is our tradition whenever we get together, we're sure to go shoe shopping.  Because, after all, some things are inevitable.

* * * * * * * * 

Want to know more about beautiful Basilicata?  Read the posts in Basilicata Recap.

Flippin' Good Fun!

Well Bryan beat me to the video punch by posting a montage of the (ridiculously abundant) footage of Lucano, our cutey-pie kitty.  Sometimes the problem of a two-blogger family is that we have the same news or stories to talk about.  But I'll give it to him because that wasn't the video I was going to share, anyway. 

We spent New Year's week on a cruise with Bryan's entire family, a lovely gift from his parents.  We celebrated Christmas all over again because his sister kindly transported our gifts from Ohio (thanks, Diane!).  One unexpected gem was a Flip Video Camera, a petite user-friendly gadget that has a USB port that flips out like a switchblade to plug directly into the computer.  I've always been a little camera shy, but I gotta say, this little sucker is a lot of fun. 

We toted it along to the festa and enjoyed catching some of our friends and fellow villagers on film (or digital, as the case may be).  We also clicked it on as we drove down the main street from the church to the main piazza, to give you a glimpse of the medieval lanes 'round these parts.

So without further intro or ado, I give you the first official Flippin' Fun videos.  More are sure to follow.

La Festa di Sant'Antonio



A Ride Through the Village



WANTED: New Residents

Wanted: Residents to live in a charming Italian village. Must want a slower-paced life, laid-back mountain atmosphere, and crave fresh, local foods. Should be middle-age or younger, child-bearing age is even better; should be in good health. You'll enjoy gorgeous landscapes, centuries-old traditions, inexpensive housing, and warm hospitality.

I'm tired of funerals.  Today I attended another one, my third since arriving here in September.  It's the unfortunate fact of life that many residents are elderly and infirm, but it still seems an unusually high number even considering that.  I've never had to attend three funerals in a year before, much less in five months.  Villagers are beseeching us to import some new blood to help replenish the town.

It's not that there aren't people our age, and there *are* lots of kids running around; but unfortunately the history of southern Italy over the past 150 years has been one of emigration.  Many have moved to the north or to other countries to find better-paying jobs, or with a vision that "life will be better" in an urban or industrial center.  With just over 600 inhabitants, we really can't afford to lose any more to death or migration!

Italian funerals are an interesting contrast to the American traditions.  In the US, due to the vastness of the country and the tendency to have family dispersed in different states, funerals are usually three or four days after the person has died.  Here two days seems to be the maximum as chemicals aren't used to preserve the body.  Giuseppe passed away yesterday morning and the funeral was held today at 3:30 p.m.  (A friend informs us that by law they must wait at least 24 hours before burial to ensure that the person has, in fact, died.)

The funeral actually begins before the church ceremony.  People gather at the giardino and await the hearse.  The priest leads the procession, praying aloud as the hearse, the family of the deceased, and the townspeople follow slowly uphill to the church.  Following the funeral Mass, everyone lines up to offer condolences and then group around in the upper piazza until the casket is placed into the hearse and the procession slowly snakes down the hill through town.  The shops and coffee bars close during the funeral and remain shuttered until after the hearse has passed enroute to the cimitero.  It is a sweet gesture of respect, I think.

Giuseppe was the brother of our upstairs neighbor who passed away in October.  He was elderly and not in the best of health, and I saw a decline in him after Fabrizio had died.  Still, it came as a surprise and I was sad for him.  He was always very sweet to me.  He had retired from a lifetime of work on the national police force, and during the weeks that I was here alone, before Bryan arrived, he would sometimes come down to check in on me when he came to visit his brother, just to make sure I was alright here on my own.  He always smiled, stopped and kissed my cheek when he saw me on the street. 

The thing I love about living here is how intimate it seems, how people welcome us in and accept us as a part of the community.  That also means accepting the losses when they come and mourning together in cases such as these.  But it's still a bit difficult.  I mean, nobody likes funerals.  And I'd like to not have to attend any more for a while.

So, if you know anybody who wants to help repopulate a pretty village and contribute to lowering the average age, please let me know.  New residents are dearly wanted.

A Mid-Winter Night's Feast

The preparations started days before. A truckload of sand was mounded in the piazza. Then, for an entire day great logs were conveyed through the streets on a squeaking, suffering tractor. They were painstakingly stacked on the dirt so that, in the end, the teepee of tree trunks reached up one story high. Old men stood beholding the scene and discussing how the bonfire would be bettered if they’d have loaded the logs in a different manner; how years ago the blaze was bigger; how there were bonfires in every contrada of the village. How they used to each put potatoes and meats to roast in the coals the morning after, the whole contrada gathered and ate together. Nowadays…mah. Things have changed, they moaned.

The festa di Sant’Antonio Abate is a big-deal shindig in these parts, a mid-winter party to liven things up and have a little fun. The party is to honor the saint who is important here in rural Italy, the protector of animals. I assumed that the many Antonios and Antoniettas we know here would have special cause to celebrate, as the onomastico, or saint’s day, is often more celebrated than one’s birthday. However, they told me that they are all named for Sant’Antonio di Padova, “the Italian Antonio, naturalmente”. Ah. Sant’Antonio Abate, it turns out, is from Egypt. Who knew?

This festa is a much-anticipated party regardless of which Antonio it celebrates. The little town garnered three bands to provide music. Stands were set up to provide typical local dishes. On the eve of the party I went to watch the pasta brigade as they hand-crafted 35 kilos of cavatelli. Brave donne, all of them. I learned their secrets, and while they wouldn’t let me actually make the pasta, they did let me lay hands on it and line the little cavatelli up neatly on the trays while they rhythmically dragged out the shape and flicked them my way. At the festa, it was served with a mouth-watering sugo di cinghiale (sauce with wild boar). Naturally, that was the first thing we ate.

Then it was on the porchetta – just a taste, mind you, we split a panino between the two of us – because Bryan was committed to the salsiccia that was being grilled up by a friend, the rising aroma of which drifted up and down the corso. But not content, he also had to try the cuturiedd, a lamb and potato dish found in these parts. That’s when things got going, as Bryan was found by his cronies and made to sit. And drink. Guys bond while doing testosterone-ish stuff together, and in this case it was the pig slaughter. They spotted him and slapped him on the back and rolled out the home- made wine. “Sure, they said, you could buy some vino cheap at the booth, but Raffaele’s is much better. Taste it. Dai…now tell me, is that not good?” They didn’t want the glass to become empty; Bryan had forgotten the Basilicata Rule of “Drink Slowly”. We finally convinced them to release us so we could wander the corso between the two piazzas and see what was happening.

We joyously found friends who came from another town, and Michela and I danced (badly, but who cares) some of the country dances while Bryan stood off to the side taking video. Other friends wandered in and out; we laughed and stood by the bonfire to warm ourselves, and shuffled between venues to take it all in. I danced with another friend (again badly, but we neither of us claim any twinkle toes), though it may have gone better if Sandro had relinquished his panino during the ballo. No matter, we laughed and twirled and had fun, which is, of course, the whole point of a party.

When I was still a little dizzy from the dips and swirls, an acquaintance approached, smiled and said, “You know, we are so happy you have chosen to live here. Seeing you smile and laugh and be a part of our village…it is so nice.”

It was a notte bianca (white night), meaning the festa lasted til dawn. We capped off the night with a final glass and toast with Sandro and company and toted ourselves off to bed at 2:00 a.m., which seemed to be the magic hour when nearly all of our acquaintance also wandered away from the flickering warmth of the bonfire to the warmth of their houses.

Despite the old men’s griping about the modern rendition, we thought it was a pretty punchy party, a bigger deal than most street festivals we've attended in metropolitan areas in the US. Our village of 600 rolled out a rollicking night, a welcome break in the bleak of winter with food, fun, friendship and festivities. My kind of party, indeed.

Bryan also posted about the festa with some photos on his blog.

Year End Meme

Mea culpa!  I know, it's been an absurdly long time since I've been around.  Scusatemi!  I could fill you in on all the daily activities that have kept me occupied, all the feasts we were forced to endure (I know, sometimes life is tough ;), and all the tribulations of travel that laid me low for a while.  But it would take more time than I have at the moment.  Pazienza, as they constantly say around here.  (For a nutshell version, hop over to Bryan's blog.) 

Instead, I'm settling back into the nest with a meme.  It's been quite a while since I've done one, and I was inspired by friend Laura over at Ciao Amalfi to head into the New Year with this one. 

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?
Bought a house in Italy!  Made two trips without Bryan (but one was with dear friend and side-kick Maria, aka Louise, making it my first international chick trip!).  Acquired a rustic room that used to be a stall that will one day be incorporated into our living space.  Met an entire village.  Carried furniture through narrow medieval pedestrian lanes.  Learned to live with heating from just a fireplace and a small electric heater.  Participated in three grape harvests.  Went to two Italian funerals.  Watched a pig slaughter (well, we said we wanted to "go local", and thankfully it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be).  Cooked Thanksgiving dinner for 28 people.  Spent four months in Italy without visiting any historic sites or traveling around.   

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't make resolutions.  But I do choose a theme song for the year, which helped keep me focused. 

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No, nobody.  Sadly, I'm getting to that age when my friends' kids are having kids, though...so maybe this year!

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No one close to me, but my neighbor and a friend's dad died, so we attended both of their funerals.

5. What countries did you visit?
Italy (three times, including the move).  Though in a way the year in Viriginia spent more like visiting than residency.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
The winning lotto ticket!

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I am not good about remembering specific dates, though I ought to be able to remember the day in January when I signed the paperwork for the house (jetlag...I blame jetlag!)  I do remember that I arrived in Italy on September 14 to become a resident of this here village.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Getting through bureaucratic hurdles again comes to mind.  But becoming a real resident of the village is the best thing; trudging through with my Italian language skills, being accepted and made to feel part of the town has been a real achievement.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Not working hard enough at adapting to metro DC life.  I gave up rather easily.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just the usual seasonal allergies and cold/flu.  Thankfully.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
A 300-something year old house!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Our friend Tonino.  Without him, things would have been more difficult and definitely less fun.  He's been a hero...and a great guy to hang out with.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Well, Berlusconi comes to mind. 

14. Where did most of your money go?
House, home and hearth.  Pretty much in that order.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Leaving northern Virginia!  (Are you catching the drift that I really didn't like living there?)

16. What song will always remind you of 2010?
My annual soundtrack.  (See question number 2).  Go With The Flow by Giovanni Allevi was last year's soundtrack.  For 2011 I have chosen another song by Giovanni Allevi - Back to Life- because I feel like leaving the grief and stress of our life in northern Viriginia to live in this lovely village did help bring me back to life.



17. Compared to this time last year, are you: (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? (c) richer or poorer?
Happier, thinner, and poorer. 

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Laugh.  Especially at myself.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Worrying. But I come from a long line of worriers; it's in the genes.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
A tavola!  Five days of feasting marked our first Christmas season in Basilicata, and it was beautiful!  We even had a nice dusting of snow to make it perfect.

21. Did you fall in love in 2010?
Yes, with our village and its inhabitants; and with a kitten named Lucano.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
I don't watch much TV, but I did get into White Collar (all blue eyes and charm!) and I liked Castle.  Here we have only three channels so it's a bit limited.  I find myself watching i Soliti Ignoti rather often.  And I still like the crime-fighting priest, Don Matteo.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No, I don't hold hatred.  There were some people who severely ticked me off, but I don't hate them.

24. What was the best book you read?
That Summer in Sicily by Marlena di Blasi.  Her writing is sumptuous and the story is amazing.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Boh.  I didn't have any.  I listened to a lot of jazz to relax.

26. What did you want and get?
A little house of my own.

27. What did you want and not get?
That winning lotto ticket I already mentioned!

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
It's been ages since I've gone to a theater, and for some reason I can't remember most of the movies we'd rented last year!  So I'm going to have to say...and don't judge me for this...The Bounty Hunter.  Why?  Because it's only movie I can definitively remember and because I do *heart* Gerard Butler.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Well, this meme is rather nosey ;)  I turned 44 in November.  We celebrated by having pizza with friends and staying up past midnight to toast my birth, a sweet gesture on their part.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More work and more money.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?
Same as always- comfy, casual and classic.

32. What kept you sane?
Bryan, aka The Voice of Reason.  And walks.  Lots of walks.  And Giovanni Allevi CDs.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Can't say I'm totally impressed with any public figure or celebrity at the moment. 

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Do you really want to get me started?  Did you not notice that I live in Italy, where Berlusconi makes a monthly mockery of the political system?  And then there's the Tea Party people, health care, immigration...oy veh.  Don't want to go there.

35. Who did you miss?
My sister, my mamma, family and friends.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
Can't pick just one as I met an entire village!

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.
Things work out in the long run.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I can see clearly now the rain is gone; I can see all the obstacles in my way.  Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind, it's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiney day.

Buon anno!
Please feel free to create your own end of year meme and post the link in the comments!

Meet the Micio

He arrived by surprise...a furry, orange, stripey ball of fur with a purr-motor that wouldn't turn off.  We have seen plenty of cute kitties around the streets of Lucanella, but hadn't expected to have a kitten of our own; however, a friend decided otherwise.  On Thanskgiving, Antonio was bursting with excitement and I couldn't figure out why.  Surely the turkey couldn't elicit such child-like glee, but with 27 other guests and cooking and serving to do, I didn't ask him.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and, like a kid who can't keep a Christmas secret, he motioned me over in the Italian way of flipping his hand downward to signal come here, I want to tell you something.  Va bene, che c'e?  "We have a surprise for you.  My sister brought it from Napoli.  Wanna guess?" He and his two kids were glowing.  The sister had already presented me with a gorgeous, enormous baba', a decadent liquor-soaked sponge cake, so it couldn't be that.  "It's a kitten!" he exclaimed.  "The brother of Gino."  They had seen us go ga-ga for Gino, their kitten, procured from his sister's garden, and asked her to bring Gino's brother.  He was the runt of the litter; a little on the skinny side and shyer than the others.

Maria, upon seeing him burst the secret wide open, rolled her eyes in exasperation and chided them, "You told her?  What do you think sorpresa means?  Mamma mia!"  No problem, Bryan doesn't know yet.  We'll keep it a secret from him. 

The next day we found an excuse to find ourselves at Antonio's house so he could present the purry present.  Bryan was definitely surprised, and while he cuddled the kitty, wasn't sure if we could take him.  The house is piccolina; we'll be traveling over the holidays; other little excuses that Antonio immediately disputed one by one: Cats don't have to be always in the house; you live in the most cat-friendly part of town with no cars to worry about him getting hit.  I'll take him for the holidays.  He can sleep in your cantina. 

A few days later we brought him home and he's become a very grateful (and spoiled!) little boy every since.  He went from a garden in Napoli to a garden and garage at Antonio's, to a couch-and-cantina trade-off here.  He developed a rather nasty cold so he spent more time inside the house than initially planned on, and got rather comfy with the living arrangements.  He doesn't venture too far from the door or the cantina (which he can enter and leave freely through a special hole built in the stone just for cats!) and now that he has recovered from the cold, he's rambuctious and playful.

We learned that Lucanella has a traveling vet; he comes to town about once a week or so.  Imagine...a vet that makes house calls!  And while he came to check on Lucano (or Luca for short), gave him an inoculation and did a generaly once-over on him, Mr. Traveling Vet didn't charge us anything.  "Pay me next time, or when we neuter him.  Whenever."  That was more of a surprise than the kitten's arrival!

He has a pretty collar so people don't think he's a street cat.  Our local supermercato owner procured it just for Lucano.  In fact, he  bought it himself while in Potenza, and brought three colors because he wasn't sure which I'd prefer.  (Spoiled kitten, indeed!)

Lucano is on my lap sleeping while I type this.  He still purrs up a blue streak and all the neighbor say he is "molto bello".  He has made himself very much at home here in Lucanella...and in our hearts.