June 29th, 2008.
We went for a lovely little "giornata," or day journey, in the mountains today with the family and P--'s sister, to a little rustic cottage for a picnic lunch and hike. Woke up late (it's Sunday, two weeks since I arrived), ate breakfast in front of the TV with the boys, and then we packed a picnic and drove an hour out of the city. The walk was gorgeous, not too steep, and in the green, green mountains. I picked a lot of bright little wildflowers to put in my book to dry. We arrived at the 'shelter' - a picnic site - around 2.30, spread out the blankets and made little sandwiches from our various components: a huge sweet tomato, block of exquisite cheese, three kinds of prosciutto, multigrain bread, finocchio (fennel), and then apples, pears, and various cookies. We also brought a liter of fizzy water and one liter of normal water. Our packs were much lighter on the way down.
Yesterday afternoon I went out with an Italian guy who was friends with the previous au pair. He's a very sweet, slightly balding 29-year-old employee of Martini Rossi who lives with his parents and learned most of his English from watching American movies. We went to the Museo al Cinema, housed in a beautiful old building that was originally intended to be a Jewish synagogue, then out for aperitivo in the city center, and then for a walk and a drink along the River Po. We have a tentative plan to go running in the park together sometime after I return from the vacation in Lampedusa, and my visit to see Christa in Madrid.
It's so funny that everything is the same here in terms of family life. Of course, why would it be different? This week I was privy to two very important moments, the first being a dinner table discussion with the 5-yr-old about the existence of Santa Claus (Babo Natale, in Italiano), and the second taking place with the 10-yr-old in the "family planning" aisle of the supermarket...
We are all the same family!
Once I pulled back from my immediate situation and reminded myself that one year, in the Grand Scheme of Things, isn't actually that long, I found this all very exciting, and a little romantic. I'm an expatriate! Haha, my good friend John and I are planning to spend the holidays together in Croatia, so as not to celebrate Christmas and New Year's alone, or with strangers. I picture something very pathetic and hilarious like one sickly pine branch stuck in an empty bottle with some tinsel, and each of us nursing a carton of red wine with fingerless gloves on... wait, we're not homeless 20th century bohemians. Wrong visual. Anyway, I think it'll be nice to spend a couple of weeks with him in the middle of my year to tide me over until the spring.
Tomorrow begins my first real regular week, with the hours of 9am-4pm largely free for me to do what I want. I have plans to take my new book, Ian McEwan's "Saturday," to the local pool and spend a couple of hours alternating between swimming and tanning; to take advantage of the three-day guest pass to Patrizia's fitness gym, where her personal trainer, Mr. Rock, is waiting to meet me; and I have two dinner dates, one at the house with the young(er) woman who lives upstairs in the attic, I think she's 26?, and the other out at a restaurant with P--'s sister and some of her friends. Little by little, things are falling into place.
29 June 2008
21 June 2008
Death in Venice
Hello, all! I have seen the very bottom of the barrel, so to speak, and now it's all upwards. We went to Venice for four days, Saturday to Tuesday, and for two of those days I was out of commission with some combination of traveller's illness, dehydration and too much sun. I had a fever and couldn't keep anything down for more than 48 hours,
and it's only now, Thursday, that I feel 100%. Whew. Venice was, however, as beautiful as ever. In one of his emails Keith remarked, "How many people get to say they're going BACK to Venice?" and I had to stop to be grateful once again for all the decisions I've made that led me here. As hard as everything is in terms of the boys trying my patience and draining me of all my energy, I keep it in perspective when I realize how truly fortunate I am to be employed by a family of such means, creativity, generosity, and desire to travel.
After a five hour train ride during which we picked more and more people up from Padova, Milan, and other places along the way, we arrived in Venice. It was so hot! We each had one small bag/backpack and one piece of luggage, and this we all loaded onto a private boat that was waiting when we got out of the train station. We stayed on a nearby islet called San Servolo, a tiny tiny place that was once a monastery, then a psychiatric hospital, and now hosts student programs (such as "Duke in Venice") and private groups (like the one I was with). We were altogether about 25 people, parents and children and nannies, who ate in the cafeteria, slept in the IKEA catalogue dorms, and played all day in the garden.
Well, the children played while the nannies watched and the parents convened for some meetings... I'm still unsure about what they were about, but it sounded like lectures and then small-group discussions about work psychology. Interesting. Anyway, when I wasn't in bed or on the floor of the bathroom, I was out with the children, watching them play soccer and catch, getting the ball out of the tree, spraying them with mosquito repellant (the humidity in Venice brought out the worst bug bites! I have many still), and speaking with the other nannies. In Italian it's tata, so plurale = tate. Le tate dei bambini. There were many children ranging in age from 10 months to 13 years, with most falling in the middle, and they got along just fine as long as we were around to break up the occasional squabble and reapply the spray. I met two Filipinas (one from Ilocos! Holla!), and we spent some time together on the last day listening to music on Irene's mp3: I told her I liked "Bebot" by the Black Eyed Peas (bebot is Tagalog slang for a cute girl), and she had it, so we listened to it, and she played for me another song by the Filipino guy in the group... I'll have to look it up, it's a rap about his life and how he came to be in the world famous group.
Anyway, then we took the train for 6 hours home from Venice, saying goodbye to various people along the way. I finished reading Henry James' "Washington Square" and wrote a few postcards, napped, talked with my father/employer about why they prefer an American au pair over something else. He said they considered one from South Africa, and another from the UK, but that I sounded like the best fit. They want the boys to learn English, and I think they thought this was the best way, maybe a clearer accent or something? I've been told again and again that my English is so clear for the Italian ear; I think it's a combination of the Californian accent (not so complicated as deep New York or Chicago, or the South), my snobby English major annunciation, and years of speaking slowly with Grandma and Grandpa Aczon.
More later, of course. We've begun to discuss the Big Questions, like my holiday in August - what to do, then? - and when I might visit Christa - after we go to Lampedusa/Sicily in July - and whether or not I will come home for Christmas. This is a big decision, but I think when I come home I want to stay home... a short visit in the middle might make it more difficult to come back. Or maybe easier. I will consult the experts: Alana and Christine, both of whom stayed abroad for one year, but one of whom came and home for winter vacation and the other stayed in Europe. I have some time before I absolutely have to decide. Comments welcome. :-)
Ciao for now! I love you.
and it's only now, Thursday, that I feel 100%. Whew. Venice was, however, as beautiful as ever. In one of his emails Keith remarked, "How many people get to say they're going BACK to Venice?" and I had to stop to be grateful once again for all the decisions I've made that led me here. As hard as everything is in terms of the boys trying my patience and draining me of all my energy, I keep it in perspective when I realize how truly fortunate I am to be employed by a family of such means, creativity, generosity, and desire to travel.After a five hour train ride during which we picked more and more people up from Padova, Milan, and other places along the way, we arrived in Venice. It was so hot! We each had one small bag/backpack and one piece of luggage, and this we all loaded onto a private boat that was waiting when we got out of the train station. We stayed on a nearby islet called San Servolo, a tiny tiny place that was once a monastery, then a psychiatric hospital, and now hosts student programs (such as "Duke in Venice") and private groups (like the one I was with). We were altogether about 25 people, parents and children and nannies, who ate in the cafeteria, slept in the IKEA catalogue dorms, and played all day in the garden.
Well, the children played while the nannies watched and the parents convened for some meetings... I'm still unsure about what they were about, but it sounded like lectures and then small-group discussions about work psychology. Interesting. Anyway, when I wasn't in bed or on the floor of the bathroom, I was out with the children, watching them play soccer and catch, getting the ball out of the tree, spraying them with mosquito repellant (the humidity in Venice brought out the worst bug bites! I have many still), and speaking with the other nannies. In Italian it's tata, so plurale = tate. Le tate dei bambini. There were many children ranging in age from 10 months to 13 years, with most falling in the middle, and they got along just fine as long as we were around to break up the occasional squabble and reapply the spray. I met two Filipinas (one from Ilocos! Holla!), and we spent some time together on the last day listening to music on Irene's mp3: I told her I liked "Bebot" by the Black Eyed Peas (bebot is Tagalog slang for a cute girl), and she had it, so we listened to it, and she played for me another song by the Filipino guy in the group... I'll have to look it up, it's a rap about his life and how he came to be in the world famous group.Anyway, then we took the train for 6 hours home from Venice, saying goodbye to various people along the way. I finished reading Henry James' "Washington Square" and wrote a few postcards, napped, talked with my father/employer about why they prefer an American au pair over something else. He said they considered one from South Africa, and another from the UK, but that I sounded like the best fit. They want the boys to learn English, and I think they thought this was the best way, maybe a clearer accent or something? I've been told again and again that my English is so clear for the Italian ear; I think it's a combination of the Californian accent (not so complicated as deep New York or Chicago, or the South), my snobby English major annunciation, and years of speaking slowly with Grandma and Grandpa Aczon.
More later, of course. We've begun to discuss the Big Questions, like my holiday in August - what to do, then? - and when I might visit Christa - after we go to Lampedusa/Sicily in July - and whether or not I will come home for Christmas. This is a big decision, but I think when I come home I want to stay home... a short visit in the middle might make it more difficult to come back. Or maybe easier. I will consult the experts: Alana and Christine, both of whom stayed abroad for one year, but one of whom came and home for winter vacation and the other stayed in Europe. I have some time before I absolutely have to decide. Comments welcome. :-)
Ciao for now! I love you.
20 June 2008
Mistake Turned Adventure
June 20th, 2008.
took the wrong bus
ended up at cemetery on outskirts of town
played with a ladybug
mother was sympathetic
took a taxi
fil was happy
ate ice cream
counted the stops
drew a horse statue at Piazza San Carlo
learned how to say "eyebrows"
met Elena, their last babysitter
heard about boys' previous behaviour, lindsey
had young person's perspective on Turin, and travel, and having children
(like a puppy!)
made pizza
watched "hulk"
jasmine room
need to buy a belt
took the wrong bus
ended up at cemetery on outskirts of town
played with a ladybug
mother was sympathetic
took a taxi
fil was happy
ate ice cream
counted the stops
drew a horse statue at Piazza San Carlo
learned how to say "eyebrows"
met Elena, their last babysitter
heard about boys' previous behaviour, lindsey
had young person's perspective on Turin, and travel, and having children
(like a puppy!)
made pizza
watched "hulk"
jasmine room
need to buy a belt
18 June 2008
Day Three in Torino
Every waking moment is spent doing not one but three things (translate-listen to parents-try to keep the boys from fighting, or try not to get lost-translate-teach English, or fight jetlag-talk slowly to patrizia-keep boys amused)! My time to really slow down and think will be in the mornings, since I have several hours off in the morning when the parents are at work and the children at school. The maid, 23, is very nice and we converse in broken Italian and broken English while she irons and I write postcards. Today we talked about how she wants to do the same thing in America that I am doing here in Turin, but she has to work first, then make plans. We also talked about boyfriends (she left someone behind in Romania, I left someone behind in Seattle), about the family (they are wonderful, she agrees) and then I retreated to my room so she could finish her work. Interesting, when I told P--- later in the afternoon that I had spoken much with Rodica, she was glad of it but added, "Not too much, I hope, because she has a lot of work to do." She comes 4 days a week, for FIVE hours each day! Dishes, ironing, laundry, cleans the bathroom and floors. Che strano.
Last night the parents invited a couple over to the apartment for dinner and to watch a high-profile soccer match between France and Italy. I think that the word for soccer, calcio, is funnily enough the same word for "calcium." Go figure. While the ladies cooked pasta and vegetables, I kept the younger boy occupied in the kitchen by taking out every single animal from his big crate of animals and laying them out on the table... and the floor, and the counter... His favorite is the lion, but he's also pretty attached to eagles. Me, I prefer the tiny cows he has - che carini! How cute! All the while F was rooted to the computer (kind of like Master Ben Nadler, no?) looking at a font website he had seen me searching the night before. He loves letters, to write, to draw, more than sports or socializing. This morning, stamattina, his mother picked up his report card from school and tonight we will see how he did. His parents expect straight As, I think; he's extremely bright, albeit moody. I haven't yet taken a photo of him, but I will soon and maybe you will agree that he looks a little like a mini-blonde Adrian Brody, with his pronounced nose and sad eyes.
Okay, time for me to venture out into the city for a couple of hours before the big test this afternoon: I pick up the boys all by myself, and keep them entertained for four hours until we meet the parents for dinner out somewhere. Whew! Cross your fingers for me!
Last night the parents invited a couple over to the apartment for dinner and to watch a high-profile soccer match between France and Italy. I think that the word for soccer, calcio, is funnily enough the same word for "calcium." Go figure. While the ladies cooked pasta and vegetables, I kept the younger boy occupied in the kitchen by taking out every single animal from his big crate of animals and laying them out on the table... and the floor, and the counter... His favorite is the lion, but he's also pretty attached to eagles. Me, I prefer the tiny cows he has - che carini! How cute! All the while F was rooted to the computer (kind of like Master Ben Nadler, no?) looking at a font website he had seen me searching the night before. He loves letters, to write, to draw, more than sports or socializing. This morning, stamattina, his mother picked up his report card from school and tonight we will see how he did. His parents expect straight As, I think; he's extremely bright, albeit moody. I haven't yet taken a photo of him, but I will soon and maybe you will agree that he looks a little like a mini-blonde Adrian Brody, with his pronounced nose and sad eyes.
Okay, time for me to venture out into the city for a couple of hours before the big test this afternoon: I pick up the boys all by myself, and keep them entertained for four hours until we meet the parents for dinner out somewhere. Whew! Cross your fingers for me!
16 June 2008
Arriving in Turin
Hello, everyone! It took me about five full minutes with the family's housekeeper, Rodica, an Italian-speaking Romanian girl, to compose the heading correctly in italiano. I have forgotten so much since I was last here in Italy, but it's coming back slowly. Piano, piano, as they say.
I will update this as frequently and comprehensively as I can. No photos
yet, but the apartment is gorgeous! Very IKEA/Pottery Barn-esque. The family inhabits the entire top floor of this apartment building, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms, two long terraces (one on each side), a neat little kitchen, and a roomy common area where everyone sits/plays/lives when everyone comes together in the evenings. Hardwood floors, high ceilings, lots of windows. They take the elevator up and down since it's the topmost, and today I thought I would try the stairs just out of curiosity-- 120 steps to the top! Whew! My buns burned, to say the least. I'll stick to the elevator.
Yesterday I flew from SFO to Denver, Denver to Frankfurt, without hitch. The first flight was a little over two hours, very easy, and I read Jane Eyre, wrote a postcard or two. Connection was close by, so I hopped right onto the Frankfurt flight. It was hard for me to comprehend that this flight was leaving the continent, leaving my country... too tremendous for my exhausted mind. I'd stayed up way, way past my bedtime for the past two or three nights, poor judgment on my part, so I was glassy-eyed for my entire day traveling. The movie screens on the Lufthansa flight kept me up all night - I think I dozed for about two hours, but only lightly - and when I landed in Torino at 2.30pm enough adrenaline kicked in, from meeting the whole family and retrieving my (obscenely heavy) luggage, that I decided to stick it out and stay up until they went to bed. I made it through playtime, unpacking, a driving tour of downtown Torino, pizza dinner and gelato, but by the time we drove home my eyes were closing mid-sentence. Alb and Patri laughed and sent me straight to bed! Fil, 10, the older boy, knocked on my door to see if I needed anything, some water, perhaps? I said yes, he could bring me some water. Frizzante o naturale? Naturale, naturally. He returned with an entire unopened liter of water! Said, "But you can drink it all night!" Very sweet. He and his younger brother, 5, are very sweet and get along like any other young boys do - not too well when one or both is tired and cranky, but fairly well during the day, as long as Fil doesn't provoke Ruggi and Ruggi doesn't annoy Fil. I've seen worse.
Now, although it's 11.30am here, and despite my solid 11 hours of sleep last night, I need to nap. In Italian, faccio un riposino. Next time I will post photos of the apartment, and hopefully will have walked more around the city. The weather is supposed to be the most beautiful of the year, but lately has been foggy and rainy. The Italians complain, "Where is our summer?," but the overcast skies remind me of home.
I will update this as frequently and comprehensively as I can. No photos
yet, but the apartment is gorgeous! Very IKEA/Pottery Barn-esque. The family inhabits the entire top floor of this apartment building, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms, two long terraces (one on each side), a neat little kitchen, and a roomy common area where everyone sits/plays/lives when everyone comes together in the evenings. Hardwood floors, high ceilings, lots of windows. They take the elevator up and down since it's the topmost, and today I thought I would try the stairs just out of curiosity-- 120 steps to the top! Whew! My buns burned, to say the least. I'll stick to the elevator.
Yesterday I flew from SFO to Denver, Denver to Frankfurt, without hitch. The first flight was a little over two hours, very easy, and I read Jane Eyre, wrote a postcard or two. Connection was close by, so I hopped right onto the Frankfurt flight. It was hard for me to comprehend that this flight was leaving the continent, leaving my country... too tremendous for my exhausted mind. I'd stayed up way, way past my bedtime for the past two or three nights, poor judgment on my part, so I was glassy-eyed for my entire day traveling. The movie screens on the Lufthansa flight kept me up all night - I think I dozed for about two hours, but only lightly - and when I landed in Torino at 2.30pm enough adrenaline kicked in, from meeting the whole family and retrieving my (obscenely heavy) luggage, that I decided to stick it out and stay up until they went to bed. I made it through playtime, unpacking, a driving tour of downtown Torino, pizza dinner and gelato, but by the time we drove home my eyes were closing mid-sentence. Alb and Patri laughed and sent me straight to bed! Fil, 10, the older boy, knocked on my door to see if I needed anything, some water, perhaps? I said yes, he could bring me some water. Frizzante o naturale? Naturale, naturally. He returned with an entire unopened liter of water! Said, "But you can drink it all night!" Very sweet. He and his younger brother, 5, are very sweet and get along like any other young boys do - not too well when one or both is tired and cranky, but fairly well during the day, as long as Fil doesn't provoke Ruggi and Ruggi doesn't annoy Fil. I've seen worse.
Now, although it's 11.30am here, and despite my solid 11 hours of sleep last night, I need to nap. In Italian, faccio un riposino. Next time I will post photos of the apartment, and hopefully will have walked more around the city. The weather is supposed to be the most beautiful of the year, but lately has been foggy and rainy. The Italians complain, "Where is our summer?," but the overcast skies remind me of home.
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