Weeks 10, 11, & 12.5; 12-1-2022
Hello friends,
Happy (belated) holidays! I hope everyone is healthy and that COVID didn't impede time with family and loved ones. I am very lucky to be healthy, especially considering that I still haven't gotten access to the booster -- thanks, Italian government for that one. I'm excited to share some of my family adventures and reflections from the break.
My updates today begin and end in Mondragone, first with my mom and then alone. In between, we went together to Abruzzo, dai parenti, to stay with relatives, where all sorts of classic Italian family shenanigans ensued. Then I accompanied Mom to the airport (Fiumincino and I are fighting, for some reason every time I've been there so far, something absurd yet avoidable has happened). After that I had wanted to travel somewhere, since I had 2 more full weeks of break. But with Omicron I decided to stay put. It's been a lot of solitude, but I'm grateful for my e-reader, streaming sites, calls to friends, and my upcoming half-marathon! For that reason, today's update will be equal parts stories about my break and a lengthy "From the Journal."
And finally, again, to get Omicron-related updates out of the way early -- things are simultaneously very normal and very weird here. Cases are increasing, as they are everywhere. We have a high vaccination rate, and masks were already mandated indoors before Omicron. Now it's N-95s only, and they're mandatory outside, too. Out of my cohort of 17, half of our schools are remote for the next 2 weeks. Mine is not, but I've been told by many coworkers that they could change that anytime this week with short notice due to short-staffing, as in America. So far this week most of my classes are half-full, and many teachers were absent.
Mom climbed the mountain to get to the castle (with the help of a tiny white lie on my part about "how much farther" we had to go).
Mom on the way down, at the same point where on the way up I'd said we were "almost there." She has dirt on her nose because she REALLY committed to getting up and down the tricky part.
Another picture of Mom out in the wild, this time in Abruzzo. We got a little lost in the vineyards on our way to a cousin's house. Mom is actively phoning for directions/help.
Word pictures
- The last day of class before break -- students changing classrooms; sitting around one desk playing Scopa (card game) or Tombola (Bingo-ish); half wearing Santa hats or reindeer ears, and all wearing red/green/Christmas sweaters, all blasting music and singing with the doors and windows open; baking the night before and having pranzo together after class, and offering snacks to the aides and other teachers; watching movies; playing Kahoot against the teachers (I won the film one). Easily the most joy I've experienced in the classroom since I arrived. I wish I could bottle it up and bring it into my lessons.
- 11 hrs door-to-door to get from Mondragone to Sant'Apollinare -- a small bus (that stopped for gas on the way to the train station), a train (a good train nap), another train, a bus (that was almost 3 hours late), and then a car ride.
- My cousins have a tree with so many kaki, persimmons, that they are falling to the ground and being eaten by the birds. My mom mentioned that she once paid $6 per kaki in America. My cousins laughed wryly and said in dialect, "we've gotta start exporting, we'd be rich!"
- Lo Zamponaro playing bagpipes in Lanciano (you can hear the beginning of a meter change at the tail end of the video).
- Going for a run through the olive trees and vineyards with a view of the mountains. Running over the autostrada on a small bridge. The smell of grape must. An encounter a very territorial, but very tiny and non-threatening pup on a small path in the vineyard.
- A chaotic family lunch -- 12 of us around a too-small table in a too-tight living room; a sweet, sweet old dog who wanted nothing more than to sit under the too-small table and put his face on people's legs while they ate; someone getting stuck in the bathroom because the lock sticks.
- Driving to said chaotic family lunch with 2 pans of lasagna and a cauldron of broth in the trunk (both unsealed); driving very slowly on the curves and hills, being honked at and passed by the other drivers; stopping on the side of a hill with no shoulder to check that everything was still upright. Oh, we were also packed 5 in a very small car, me with my face in the very large plant on my lap (a gift for our hosts).
- Zia Felicette (94 years old) sitting by herself in the basement without lights grating cheese over a bowl. Bart (the dog, named after Bart Simpson) sitting at her feet begging for the cheese.
- Walking in circles around the outside of the airport (and briefly in the inside!) after dark in the rain with 3 suitcases, one entirely full of olive oil.
- Countless COVID scares, close contacts and at-home antigen tests -- a sign of the times.
- Running past a little wooded park and catching a hint of the scent of Pennsylvania woods. Running along the beach, lungomare, on a particularly windy day; something about the tide and the wind made the surf look more like the NJ beaches than usual. Missing the Northeast/Mid-Atlantic.
- New Years Eve with the family of a colleague, 17 of us around a table in the living room, ranging from 2 to 87 years old. Laura Non C'e` coming on the TV (Vassar Italian dept folks get this one) and nobody understanding why I knew every word. Everyone dancing around the room with the children right before midnight.
- The first day back to school from break -- students fussing with the elastic part of their now-mandatory N-95 (called FP-22 here). A video assembly, lighthearted disagreement about whether the camera should be on the students or on the teacher. One student walks in from the bathroom with her mask below her nose (after it was agreed upon that the camera would be on the students), everyone yelling at her to pull it up. A modern Greek chorus.
The closest city to Sant'Apollinare is Lanciano -- we were there the morning of Christmas Eve.
Masked selfie in Guastameroli with Mom and Gianna. We were refilling the water bottles.
Chicco and Ronnie peeking in the window during Christmas Eve dinner.
San Vito Marina, the beach part of San Vito Chietino, is most identifiable for these wooden fishing piers, trabocchi.
Storytime!
A new section that I am baffled I didn't think to include earlier. I spend more time thinking and writing about stories than anything else! These are the stories I am most eager to tell folks on the phone, so I've decided to dedicate some space here to them. I'll try to include one per newsletter.
- I mentioned that I went skiing for the first time, but my use of the word 'ski' was generous. It's more accurate that I fell down the mountain, with a few moments of being up on my feet/skis in between falls. Some context -- skiing was never a part of the plan for the weekend, but on the second morning the skiers/snowboarders in the group took one look out the window and said "This is perfect skiing weather, it's never going to be this good again. How would you feel about learning to ski today?" I was excited! On our way to the ski station I was chatty. I thought I'd have a leg up as a runner, and I thought I'd get to the top of the mountain within 2 hours of arriving, so that I could see Mont Blanc in the distance. I was oh so very wrong about that. The plan, as we'd set it out that morning, was to park at the bottom, get me up on my feet, and then head up the mountain. But when we arrived, the only parking was halfway up the slopes. So there we were, on the side of the slope (an intermediate one, I'll add). One of them is holding me up while the other is bent down trying to show me how to clip into my skis. Other people are zooming past us because there is no "shoulder." Every time they'd get me clipped into one, I'd start to slide down the mountain and they'd pull me back. Once they got me clipped into both skis, they showed me how to pizza and let me go! And I fell. A lot. I lost my skis, I got stuck in a snow bank. At one point I tumbled, rolled, got back up on my feet and skied a bit more before actually falling over and losing a ski. It was impressive, I was told? But keep in mind that every time I lost a ski we had to repeat the both-of-them-holding-me-up process. I also hadn't been taught how to turn -- so every time there was a turn I'd fall, get picked up and placed down in the correct direction, and then go again until I fell. It took us about 40 minutes to ski what should have taken 5-6 minutes. It was... rough. I finally got to the bottom (miraculously uninjured), we spent about 30 minutes going over basics (which were not sticking), and then I told them to go up the mountain and enjoy the perfect conditions while I practiced (they still weren't sticking). I haven't been that bad at something in a while, and it was fun! The afternoon ended with me sitting at the bottom of the slope in the snow by myself for over 2 hours, watching children sled, and struggling to keep my hands warm. It was physically uncomfortable, but there was so much to soak in. I had a great time. I was getting to do exactly what I came here to do -- go new places and try new things with new people. It was thrilling. My shins were sore for about 3 weeks after, but I wouldn't trade it.
For anyone familiar with the 2018 lemon story -- it continues! I was gifted a second lemon, from the same tree (visible behind Donato). I've only brought it back to Mondragone with me, so lemon 2.0 has not traveled nearly as far as the original lemon.
But it did make it to Crecchio, the town where my Noni was born?/grew up, later that same evening! The last monarch of Italy stayed at this castle for a night as the monarchy was falling in the 1940s.
And here is a picture of Gio, the dog of my cousin who hosted us on Christmas day, enjoying all the attention from Marta and Mom.
Please excuse the blurry photo, I took it from across the street between cars. The 6th was, along with my brother's birthday (hi Julian happy birthday), the Epiphany. Italian tradition is that on the night of the 5th, children leave their shoes out so that La Befana, an old witch (think Tomie DePaola Strega Nona vibes), can leave a little treat.
From the Journal
I decided to include this because it has been the most significant aspect of my last 2 weeks. And it is far more aligned with my Ground Rules to include it than not to, or to include a diluted version of it. While the trips and the funny moments with students are a big part of why I am here and what I'm seeking during my time here, this level of growth and reflection is also a huge part of why I am here.
- I mentioned in an earlier newsletter that I was reflecting on the difference between loneliness and aloneness. That reflection came up again this past week, as I was pushed to think in different ways more than I have been pushed since I first arrived. A big part of why I wanted to come here was for a hard reset, in all areas of my life -- the hard reset that would have naturally come with graduation, but that was fragmented and gradual instead because of the pandemic. I also knew that hard resets are uncomfortable! And so I'm taking some steps to do the hard reset more intentionally, instead of the hard reset unintentionally doing me.
- All of that said, in my solitude I was able to reflect on the moments when I felt most authentic to myself, with myself. I've said in the past, especially at Vassar, that I could never get work done in my room. I always needed to be in public, even if there was nobody else around! Somewhere I could be seen/potentially seen by other people, so that I could "perform" being a student, because studying/writing by myself just wasn't enough. So these moments of feeling good without that gaze, lo sguardo, moments of being seen by myself, felt especially good in this context. One was sitting on the couch, reading a book about neoliberalism and the non-profit industrial complex, listening to Samia and wearing my new favorite yellow cardigan (pictured above in Lanciano). The other one was getting back from a run, stretching on the floor, and then staying on the floor, still in my running clothes, working on this newsletter and listening to 2000s throwback pop. It's tempting to reduce these moments to archetypes, I'm performing the bookish wannabe grad student, or I'm performing the runner, but that feels like a disservice to my own complexity.
- Unrelated, two observations during the holidays -- 1) Everyone always has the TV on (this is not new), but the Christmas TV programs were my least favorite. Everything was overproduced, gaudy even. It was all performances of American Christmas pop music, also not my favorite, interspersed with lstock photos or clips from TV shows or movies. Most interestingly, the non-pop music content was far more focused on children, birth, and the mother-child connection than on Catholicism. A refrain so far of my time here has been how Catholic Italy is, but I'm starting to reflect on how Catholicism in Italy is more cultural (emphasis on nuclear family) than religious (emphasis on the Bible, the birth of Jesus). Yet another political/cultural parallel with America.
- And 2) I noticed that when people would host us, the guests would all be dressed nicely, but the hosts would be in sweatpants and sweatshirts. I have noticed this in Mondragone as well, and not just during the holidays. I think it's because the act of being in the company of others is not an occasion. I don't want to generalize and say that it's an occasion everywhere in America and it's not an occasion everywhere here. But that difference has struck me, from my experiences of being invited over to dinner at many colleagues' homes and relatives' homes during the holidays.
The sky while running pt 1
The sky while running pt 2
This one is a bit unusual for me to include, but it's representative of my break here in Mondragone -- I have been trying some new recipes. One was a bean soup recommended to me by a close friend. I don't usually salt things, but I decided to add some salt to this one, since my beans were cooked from scratch and not from a can. However, because I don't salt often, I didn't realize that my salt shaker didn't have a shaker, and dumped way too much salt into it. It was inedible. I decided to freeze it and deal with it later. Fast forward, I've made a double batch of the soup with no salt, and added the over-salted first batch. Old soup meets new soup. I was told that this photo gives off Titanic vibes. In the end, it was still a little salty for my taste, but much better than round 1.
Spotted at the airport hotel the morning after the wild rain walk and made me chuckle. Please excuse the blurry photo, I was walking down the hallway. Catch me with googly eyes on my vacuum when I get back to America.
Finally, Cassie and Sarah on Zoom with me right before I sat down to draft this on Saturday! Hi friends!
Thank you for getting this far! This may have been my longest newsletter yet, which is why I'm switching back to bi-weekly for the next one. Also, I have a request -- I teach American culture and English language to music and social science students. I had big goals at the beginning of my time here to organize all of my units with different genres, and to include songs from different genres that reference or comment on different elements of American history or culture. For example, my first 2 lessons were on Vietnam and the Anti-War movement (A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall), and deindustrialization and death of organized labor in America (Allentown). However, I never made that list of songs, and have been working on other projects with the students since. If anything comes to mind, please reply with a few songs that you think would be a useful teaching tool for elements of American culture. Many many thanks in advance for your ideas!
Con tranquillita`,
Antonella
Appendix: Ground Rules
- This is a time for me of reconnecting with a number of practices that have been interrupted by the pandemic; by the 3-part-time-jobs, recent-humanities-grad, gig-economy work routine that I've just left; and by the inevitable ebb and flow of intersecting needs. This is just that -- a practice, a practice of connection, a practice of reflection, a practice of synthesis, a practice of perspective.
- This is not meant to replace my 1:1 interactions!
- This should serve me. There is no right or wrong way for me to structure these. Like my bullet journal, if the structure becomes cumbersome, it means my needs are shifting and I need to re-evaluate what I am including and how I am preparing to write.
- This is not a finished product, ever, by any standard. I will not fret over punctuation, word choice, or syntax. There are many spaces in my life where those things do matter, quite a lot, but they are not a priority here.
In case you missed it!
Here is the link to the archive of my past newsletters.