Weeks 22 and 23; 26-3-2022
Hello friends,
The past few weeks have been a strange juxtaposition of normalcy and crisis. I feel as though I've been straddling both, but they are starting to diverge -- or maybe they are intersecting? Either way, I'm not sure how much longer until the balance tips. I've been digging back into Affect Theory this week (god, I MISSED it), and this line from Lauren Berlant's Cruel Optimism struck me:
"Crisis is not exceptional to history or consciousness but a process embedded in the ordinary that unfolds in stories about navigating what's overwhelming" (10).
Normalcy for me is manifesting as indoor, maskless social interactions, including pizza with my students and colleagues, celebrating friends' birthdays, and lunch with my host family; traveling with friends in other parts of Italy, last week to the Amalfi coast, and this weekend to Bologna; teaching in person with masks, but with 1-2 students in each class doing distance learning for the first time since January; and the possibility of Italy removing its vaccination requirements in the coming weeks. Crisis for me is manifesting as the arrival of Ukranian refugees in Mondragone; rising caseloads here in Italy, coupled with updates from friends and family in America who are testing positive; the deafening consistency of war-related news updates; and the consistent disappointment of American politics (Ketanji Brown Jackson's supreme court confirmation hearings, the Ginni and Clarence Thomas texts, the presence of Russian misinformation on American right-wing news channels, to name a few).
All of that said, I've been very reflective these past two weeks, at times in an anxious, paralyzing way, and at other times in a generative, introspective way. I'm craving and missing my communities in America, at the same time that I'm just starting to find community here. (I think I had convinced myself I did not miss it, and now that it's within reach, I'm experiencing 5 months' worth of yearning all at once.) I'm in love with living in Italy, and am starting to explore ways to spend more time living in Europe/Italy (another juxtaposition with missing my friends and family in America). I so miss being a student, but now that I've spent 2 years not being a student I am afraid that I will miss the world beyond academia if I go back into it. And our global and domestic systems are just so, so, so broken. I'm not one to doomscroll -- in fact I'm quite happy with the balance that I maintain between staying informed and not getting lost in current events -- and, that balance, much like the balance between normalcy and crisis, has been especially tricky right now.
I don't usually start my updates with this much text, but it's absolutely reflective of my overall state of being these past 2 weeks. The rest of this email is going to follow a pretty normal format -- word pictures, and then an excerpt from an application to a conference that I wrote a few weeks ago. I was going to write about social life here, but I'll push that to the next one.
Oh, one more thing. After my newsletter about nationalism, racism and xenophobia in bureaucracy, I decided not to dedicate any more space to the details of my personal bureaucratic runaround. It has settled (somewhat, for now). So instead I've attached this document, with a full timeline of all my woes and stresses, for anyone who is interested.
On the Sorrentino peninsula, further SW than the city of Sorrento itself. This pool was part of the a Roman Villa, Bagni Regina Giovanna.
This is the view of the villa from the other side of the cave. It was absolutely massive and built into the rocks on all sides of the swimming pool. A good reminder, as all opulent historical things are, that income inequality is nothing new.
Looking up the Sorrentino peninsula from the top of the villa, a little higher up on the rocks from where the cave/pool was.
The water was SO clear. I cannot wait for it to get warmer.
Not the most aesthetically pleasing photo, but the only one that captures Vesuvius in relation to the peninsula. The entire bay is in the shadow of the volcano.
Word pictures
- A pale pink mask on the ground, among trash, with the word pace, peace, written along the edge in blue pen.
- Driving in a car with watercolor sky to the right, and out the rear windshield a fiery sun setting between the mountain and the water tower.
- Water buffalo frolicking around a field at 8 am from the platform of the train station while the sheepdogs kept them from straying too far and farmers tended to a bonfire. A very pastoral scene. Thinking about how human group dynamics are reflected in nature.
- Seeing a cat snugly tucked in a backpack on the Circumvesuviana, the train that goes from Napoli to the Amalfi coast. Out the window the fields at the base of Vesuvius were dotted with yellow flowers.
- I watched someone spear fish at 10 am on Sunday morning in Vico Equense. He sat on the pier, adjusted his wetsuit, wet his goggles, made the sign of the cross, and then jumped into the water with his spear in one hand.
- The central church in Mondragone now has a massive megaphone on the top of the spire, and most evenings they broadcast mass loud enough that I can hear it from my home. I guess we're all Catholic during Lent.
- On St. Patrick's day I made 150 Irish potatoes (a Philadelphia St Patrick's day delicacy, for anyone who isn't familiar) and walked to school with them in my Fulbright tote bag. I think I peaked as a Philadelphian that day. The evening prior I had spent 40 minutes in the grocery store converting ounces and cups into grams, and translating all the different ingredients into Italian. I do not think I'll be doing any more large-scale baking projects while I'm here.
- At my friend's birthday dinner, the conversation went towards actors and actresses we find attractive. I was shown a photo of an Italian actor who is known for having huge muscles (he was described to me as the Dwayne Johnson of Italy). I responded that "he's not my type," to which my friend's 19 year old brother responded earnestly, "hai fatto bene!"
- An absolutely terrible, mean substitute teacher who yelled at me as if I were one of the students. Making faces with the students while she admonished all of us. And then having a full-on giggle fit with my students as soon as she left the room (to my friends, yes, that kind of giggle fit. You know what I'm talking about). That is one of the moments that I will hold tight to long after I've left Mondragone.
- One of my classes invited me out to get a pizza with them. They put me at the head of the table, and after we finished eating, they all moved their chairs to sit around me and talk with me. I felt very adored. The next day, another class had seen on social media that I'd gotten that pizza. They said they thought they were my favorite, and to reestablish themselves, immediately made a groupchat so that they could take me out for a pizza (at a better pizzeria).
- Last Saturday was the Festival of San Giuseppe, and also father's day. The zeppola is a pastry that is typically made for this holiday. To reciprocate the Irish Potatoes that I'd brought in earlier that week, one of my groups of students embarked on a quest to find me a gluten free, dairy free zeppola. And they succeeded! We met after school on Friday afternoon for them all to give it to me together. It was absolutely delicious. And I completely forgot to take a photo.
- Every Sunday there is a market in Mondragone where they have second-hand clothing stands, called a prezzi Americani. I got a very fun jumpsuit for 2 euros!
- Overheard in one of my classrooms: "Emanuele [student who was absent] said he misses Antonella." "Yeah because he's a simp." Well, good to know they are learning English slang that I did not teach them.
- Another overheard one: my students were telling me about Santa Maria Incaldana, the patron saint of Mondragone. I was asking which church in Mondragone is the Basilica, and one student responded "It's on X street, you pass by there everyday!" Before I could ask another student said "Wait, how do you know that?" and we all laughed.
- There is an older couple who has a routine of walking along the lungomare around the same time of day that I typically run. One day this week I decided to walk a bit after I finished my run. They saw me walking and asked "batteria scaricata?" -- out of battery?
- Two scents: an older male teacher walked into the teachers room. I'd never seen him before, but he smelled just like my Pappap. I have not smelled that scent in 7 years. I haven't any idea what product it is that makes that smell, but it took me right back to countless family gatherings in Pittsburgh. Second scent: shellac. The family I live with refinished the door this morning, and it transported me to my dad's woodworking studio in Media.
- Two cents: I got flustered at the fruttivendolo because there was a line behind me and I did not have a lot of change in my purse. The owner of the shop (the same one who teaches me words in dialect) cleared space on the counter for me to dump out all of my change so we could figure it out together.
- While I was sitting on the lungomare journaling, a sweet pup named Argo came right up to me and licked my face. Argo's owner Antonio asked what I was writing, and we had a lovely conversation. He is 75, has lived in Mondragone his whole life, enjoys the simple things, and was happy to have met me. Oh, and his first girlfriend's name was Antonella, while he was studying in Milan.
- This morning the doorknob was broken in one of my clasrooms. While I was teaching, the assistant principal came in to ask what happened. But she pulled the door shut behind her, and did not realize until she tried to leave that she had no way to open it. The students had immediately realized her predicament, and spent 5 minutes tittering and stifling their laughter. As soon as she turned to go, she reached for the handle, said "stupida" under her breath, and then called one of the hall monitors to let us all out. As soon as he answered the phone she said, "Francesco, aiutaci, siamo prigioneri!" I've never seen this class laugh that hard.
- I think I mentioned that a few weeks ago, my trip to Bari took 9 hours instead of 6 because my first train was delayed by 35 minutes, which caused me to miss all of my subsequent connections. I am currently writing this from the train to Bologna. This trip, likewise, will have been 7 hours, instead of 4. Trenitalia got me again -- but this time they straight up cancelled my train, instead of simply delaying it. I wonder what they have in store for me next.
From my most recent trip up the mountain! I have been tending towards the path that gives me a view of Mondragone, rather than the one that takes me away from Mondragone. That may be because there are rarely animals and critters on this path, but I like to think it's also because I'm feeling more settled.
I'm so excited to see the mountaintop in spring and summer -- there are already these little yellow flowers.
Most of the fruit trees in the orchards surrounding Mondragone are also in bloom -- the countryside has a purple hue that it did not before.
And down on the beach, this purple flower is starting to pop up in the dunes. I have been told that there will be more and I cannot wait. I might get a tattoo of this flower when I get back to America.
Speaking of the beach -- in this photo you can see some of the other, smaller purple flowers, too!
My Fulbright EU-NATO Conference Application
(Excerpts). I was not planning on including this section, but my application wholly reflects what I am reflecting on interpersonally, geopolitically, academically, globally etc.
In Mondragone, I’ve been exploring the application of Restorative Practices, Dialogue, and Applied Storytelling to the K12 classroom. I’ve seen the ways my students have become a closer-knit community through language learning. I teach with an emphasis on storytelling and narrative. Personal stories are what connect us; they foster empathy and are the beating heart of all human interaction. For listening practice, we use podcasts including Storycorps, MOTH and This American Life, which provide at times vulnerable insight into daily life in America, all in English. We read Humans of New York and Modern Love to talk about the ways that English can be used to represent complex but essential interpersonal concepts, alongside its known importance for academic or professional concepts. And we have written letters to high school students studying Italian in America, to experience interpersonal cross-cultural exchange among peers.
Further, beyond my focus on storytelling, language-learning fosters a collaborative environment. It requires all learning styles, meaning that it shakes up the existing hierarchies in classrooms. Silly mistakes happen often, requiring vulnerability and catalyzing laughter. The collectively experienced challenges and triumphs of language study create a unique bond between students. This has been my experience thus far.
For me, everything is about scale. Witnessing the community built in these classrooms, on a small scale, in stark contrast to the conflicts unfolding right now on national and global scales, has brought up some broader questions for me about the state of our global community. What does it mean to be a resilient global community? The COVID-19 pandemic, among countless other international conflicts and challenges [I'd drafted this before Russia invaded Ukraine], together have laid bare the flaws in our international infrastructures.
Well, they’ve laid bare where our international infrastructures fall short. I do not know enough about the inner-workings of the organizations to speak to the structures themselves. I was not taught much about NATO or the EU. However, I understand they shape our worlds in very significant ways.
As a young professional, I am at a turning point in my career. My undergraduate degree is very geographically-bound – ‘American Studies.’ It awarded me the liberty to study America in a beautifully interdisciplinary way, but it did limit me in that any policy or political science classes that I took were explicitly focused on domestic policies. However, as I said, I am reflecting on the ways that we engage in diplomacy, particularly around deadly international conflict (or international decisions whose outcomes can significantly impact the health and quality life of entire populations). I have much to learn about international relations and diplomacy, and I am deeply interested in continuing to study global systems. Despite my lack of formal education in this field, I’m noticing that, overwhelmingly, the ways in which we engage with other nations is antithetical to the ways in which we build community at local and organizational scales.
At this critical moment in history -- economically, diplomatically, and from a public health standpoint -- as the divisions in our global community are laid bare and harms continue not to be repaired, I would be grateful to participate in this seminar. The opportunity to “explore the structure and function of these organizations and learn how these institutions affect [our] academic, professional, and personal lives” would both provide some context for my ongoing reflections on current events, and also function as a springboard for my future studies.
Regina is thriving. I came home from school today and she was lounging in the sun on my doormat. As the seasons change, my apartment is starting to get a little little tiny bit of direct sunlight in the afternoons, for which I am very grateful.
Lila is also thriving, though a little more chaotic. I've never seen her lounge, and she has taken to climbing up the palm tree in the yard and perching in it. They have been calling her "cattivella." My phone camera is terrible, but Lila was desperately trying to get my attention as I walked up the steps.
Photographic evidence of my large-scale baking project. I tried using an immersion blender instead of a stand mixer -- they are not interchangeable! The family I live with lent me theirs for the night, though.
And (a fraction of) the finished product.
On the subject of teaching, this was the Smartboard after my second-year students explained the story of Santa Maria Incaldana to me. Once again, my phone camera is terrible, so I re-typed the translations over the photo. Some days I will do full immersion with them, and today was one of those days -- hence the question mark at the end. Everybody has a slightly different version of the story, it was fun to hear the differences. At one point we looked it up on Wikipedia, and the students were shocked to see "Mondragone" on a Wikipedia page.
This was on my walk to school. On certain days of the week, these trucks with either produce or home cleaning products will drive up and down the streets, blasting a scratchy recording of their voice on loop announcing what they have to sell that day from a megaphone. It's quaint, I enjoy it, except when I am trying to communicate something important to a coworker via voice message and they keep circling back around.
This is in the upstairs part of my friend's house, which she is renovating. The space is very very unfinished, but this coathanger seemed out of place and it made me smile.
I saw this on my way down the mountain -- absurd, I love it. Gives me Vassar party vibes.
And a typical evening, from my perspective. Not pictured: my cup of tea and bluetooth speaker.
And a typical afternoon (not from my perspective! Many thanks to my friend for taking this photo.)
This was a pretty dense newsletter, so I'm not going to say much else here. Except to thank you, as always, for accompanying me on my adventures in this way. I'm excited to synthesize some of my reflections on social life in the next one. I am almost into the final 2 months of the school year -- time is flying. People are starting to ask me when I'm leaving. But I've got time.
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.