Arrivederci, Italia!

So, here I am, finally getting around to this silly blog that I dropped off updating ages ago. I've decided to summarize my impressions of Ascoli Piceno with this final blog entry, bringing it to a close. The few entries below this are also newly added.

Italy turned out to be quite a challenge. At first, I really liked it. I had an architect's chic apartment all to myself, and a set of surrogate parents who invited me over for dinner and spoke loads of Italian to me. Italian elementary school was this crazy scene, loaded with energy and bright faces. The kids were so excited to have Americans at their school- I was amazed at how communicative and eager to be helpful they were. They were absolutely adorable.

I haven't written an entry about Italian elementary school since the first day of school... maybe that's because when I wasn't there, I wanted to think about it as little as possible- haha, that's a joke...... kind of. To sum up my feelings after 3 months in Italian elementary school... I guess I would say that it's pretty much like the rest of Italy: there are things which I really admire, and there are things to which I can come up with no other response than, "WTF."

As time went on, the kids lost interest when they realized that communication with Axel was going to require some work. The kids still wanted to be helpful, but being kids, they were more preoccupied with the drama and excitement of their own lives. My job, which I normally find mentally challenging, was significantly more mentally demanding in this situation. I had to attend to what was going on in the class, which, naturally, was in Italian. My Italian improved quickly, but it was still difficult to understand everything, and impossible to understand subtleties. Normally, I'm not responsible for academic materials, only behavior, but here I had to invent exercises and make decisions about academic materials. Additionally, because his access to the environment was limited, I had to devote a large portion of my energy toward finding ways to engage him with the environment. It was my job to create interaction opportunities. Let's just say, it was energy intensive.

It was interesting to observe a classroom in a foreign country. There were things I found fascinating, and there were things that really did just make me say WTF. I was impressed by the kids' communication skills- they used their faces and hands more than American kids and seemed to be at a more mature level of communication. Their curriculum was very heavy on writing and reciting, so it seemed like they got a lot of language practice. They were also very good at self-organization. They organized themselves efficiently to play games and cooperated independently when they had to share materials for projects. There was a certain intimacy, especially amongst the boys, that I thought was incredibly sweet.

Sometimes, it just got plain crazy in that classroom. The teacher, whoever it was at the moment, would leave the room when one of her fellow teachers walked by. She would stand in the hallway, chit-chatting aimlessly about this and that. Meanwhile, the circus came to town inside the classroom. The kids might go wild, running around, jumping on things and each other, filling the room with loud chatter, which bounced around the echo-y walls. I couldn't help but laugh when Axel asked jokingly if someone had set off an atomic bomb. The teacher would come back in, yelling at them, upbraiding them for not controlling themselves. The behaviorist in me rolled her eyes all day long.

There were more things to roll my eyes at. For snack, the kids ate white bread, candy, or other junk food. This was during their "recess," which was almost always confined to the classroom. On rare occasions, we got to go outside. Between no recess and sugary, simple carbohydrate snacks, it's no wonder these kids were ready to burst at the seams.

Ok, so I guess there were more things that made me say WTF. While I don't regret having this opportunity to glimpse into the world of Italian schooling, I was quite ready to get the heck out of there by the end! I wish the Italian children the best in everything, and hope that someday the teaching staff will realize the grave mistake in not giving children the opportunity to run around outside.

My personal life exhibited a similar de-sparkling trend. I grew weary of the lack of easy-access to nature. I realized how accustomed I'd become to SLO, where there is easy-access, beautiful hiking everywhere. I didn't have any friends, and didn't have the best luck making new ones, so I got lonely. Jonathan thoughtfully introduced me to some of the young people he knew from the University, but nothing really took. I didn't have much in common with them- they were into style, fashion, and architecture, and I was into dirt, farming, and hippie-philosophies. Plus, most of them didn't live in town, so it would have required a lot of energy to arrange social situations. So at some point, I just decided that I had failed in that department, and gave up.

There were bright spots, thankfully: visiting Andy at the farms, our trip to Cinque Terre, my family coming to visit. So all in all, another learning experience to add to the books. I was quite ready to take off for Scotland by the time I left, but I certainly learned a lot from the challenge. Arrivederci, Italia!

Yet Another Countryside Visit + Cinque Terre

Through a series of unfortunate, but oddly serendipitous events, I ended up back in Italy, instead of in the UK for 10 days, as I had planned. (I got kicked out of the UK... long story, ask me if you want to know, and I'll tell you over a glass of vino). They sent me to Perugia, which is fairly close to where Andy was staying. Lucky for me, Chris offered to pick me up.

I hadn't slept during the whole ordeal, and the stress of it all left me fighting a virus and totally exhausted. I spent the first days at Chris' recovering, but soon found myself seeped into life on the farm, enjoying the obliviousness to time and the thick, summery air. For the next week, I felt lucky to enjoy days filled with swimming in the lake, watering and weeding vegetable gardens, listening to Chris' philosophies and life stories, practicing Italian with Ruben and Bruno, and just generally letting the time melt away like butter over a hot pancake.

CINQUE TERRE

As an added bonus to my failed UK trip, Andy and I went to Cinque Terre for a few days. We had heard so many great things about how beautiful it was. Nobody warned us adequately about the tourists, however. It was beautiful, stunning, gorgeous. The fact that it was literally crawling with people made it a little difficult to enjoy. All the same, we spent the days hiking all over the place. It is made up of 5 coastal towns, and there are trails that climb up into the hills, linking the villages. It was lovely to be outside all day, sweating and getting sun-burned. We explored all five villages, and took a swim everyday. The water was just gorgeous- so blue, so buoyant.

We had one meal that was fabulous. We had to make reservations, and the restaurant only offered one service per night. We ate: home-made pasta, grilled fish, mussels, and to top it off, panna cotta with honey. Possibly the most authentic, home-made Italian food I've ever eaten.

Another Countryside Visit

CAGLI & MT. PETRANO

This weekend I visited Andy at a farm near Cagli. Chris, who runs the farm along with her two sons, Bruno and Ruben (both in their 20's), dropped Andy off in town to meet up with me, late on Saturday afternoon. We spent the evening bumming around the centro, strolling through the park, and drinking beers at a bar cafe. Before dinner, we drove up the hill to Mt. Petrano, on top of which is the most beautiful field of green grass and wildflowers imaginable. It is the most beautiful place I've seen in Italy yet. We got views of the Umbrian Alps on one side and the Marche countryside on the other. After playing a few games of tackle tag, we headed back into Cagli for dinner at a restaurant where Bruno's girlfriend works. We ate an antipasto of cured pork (all Cinte Sinese, a rare traditional breed that I learned about in my last trip to Italy) and raw veggies diipped in olive oil. For primi, we chose pasta al forno- it was like a white lasagna with peas and cheese. For secondi, we ate rabbit and mixed pork. For contorni (veggies) we ate atrichokes and oven roasted onion. Everything was extremely well done, and in my opinion, the best food we've eaten here.

THE FARM

On the morning of my one-and-only full day at the farm, Andy gave me a tour: the vegetable gardens, the ceci (garbanzo) and lentiche (lentils) fields, the shop where Chris keeps here herbal soap projects, the old abandoned house where a family of hawks now nests, and the private lake. While the lake was small and the water somewhat murky, the aura of the place was lovely- so peaceful and sleepy. The frogs were croaking and the fish jumping, while fluffy white seed bundles floated down over the water from the trees above.

PASSO DEL FURLO AND URBINO

We had wanted to go on a big hike, but the impending rain prompted us to choose a drive to a nearby canyon, Passo del Furlo. So after a meditative sit at the lake, we got in the car. It started raining more and more, which seemed like even more of a bummer when we saw how beautiful the canyon was: the huge, steep rock walls were with clinging vegetation. A sleepy green river flowed along the bottom of the canyon. The rain seemed to be letting up, so we decided to drive up a little road that suposedly lead to a trail head. But the rain started to worsen quickly, and before long, we came upon a group of 4 hikers who had lost their way in the rain. They were tow couples, one of which was an English woman who had married an Italian man. They flagged us down and begged for a ride down, so of course, we obliged. They invited us to their home on the coast any time, and promised to open a special bottle of wine if we came. If only we had time..

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The rain was still coming down, so we pulled off the road and perched in a cave to marvel at the great canyon (pic) At this point, we gave up on waiting out the rain and headed to Urbino, and nearby city we had both heard praised. We trekked about the city scape, looking for views and interesting food opportunities. There were steel stairs and narrow passageways with no outlets- a real labyrinth. So it was a good alternative to the nature-adventure we had hoped for.

PIZZERIA 2000

We went to nearby Aqualagna for dinner, where Bruno works at a restaurant called "Pizzeria 2000." I was not really looking forward to it, as Andy had not built up very high expectations... I was picturing a dirty pizza joint where food really isn't the point. Boy, were we in for a surprise! The menu included not only pizza, but primi, secondi, and contorni also. We ordered a pizza with sausage, potatoes, and spinach, and it was very good! After dinner Bruno strolled out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of Limoncello. We shared a toast, and chatted about life- Bruno only speaks Italian, so it was a bit of a challenge. Andy's Italian was also a great source of amusement, and it was hard not to tease him too much- luckily he is such a good sport. It made me so happy to see that he landed another great group of people- I could see how much Bruno enjoyed Andy's company, smiling at almost everything he did. I have rarely met such a genuine person as Bruno. He looks really tough with his facial piercings, but he has a ready smile, and it takes only minutes to realize that he sweet-natured. He insisted on paying for out dinner, and when we sneakily tried to go behind his back and pay for it anyways, he intercepted us, escorting us out the door.
Before we could drive away, Bruno came running out to us. When he got to the car, he handed us two T-shirts with "Pizzeria 2000" stitched on the front. That pretty much made the trip for both of us- we didn't stop laughing and smiling all the way home.

Prime Ciliegie

First Cherries...

Eremo di San Marco

Andy visited Ascoli for a few days before heading to another farm, this time in Cagli. While he was here, we visited L'Eremo di San Marco, a grotto (cave) that has an old church built into it. The footpath leading up to it is gorgeous- oak and chestnut forest, a similar feel to what we found in Monte Rufeno, but denser and more forest-y. The view of Ascoli from the grotto is phenomenal... there is also a place where the path goes to a ledge just below the grotto that is a little scary because it drops straight down- a true cliff.

I've been so frustrated by the lack of footpaths/hiking close to Ascoli, and I finally found the footpath from the city that leads to this grotto (and also to Colle San Marco, a big hill that you can see from Ascoli). I had heard from several people that there was a footpath, but nobody could tell me where it started. One guy told us to follow the red and white strips... "what does that mean?" we thought. On the way back to Ascoli from the grotto (we drove), Sandy and Jonathan dropped us on the road so that we could follow the footpath down and figure out where in the city it ended/started. It was a little tricky, but we followed hand-painted red and white strips on the trees, buildings, poles, and rocks that marked the way to go. Finally, my Ascoli nature fix!

Sun-Grass-Sheep-Milk-Cheese

On Saturday it was a bit rainy in the morning. I had to drive the car to Orvieto to pick up Sandy, Jonathan, and Axel. They dropped me back off at the farm and then headed back to Ascoli for the rest of the break. When I got back, we ate a lunch of pea-quiche-pie stuff and sweet Easter bread. Then we decided to go out and work, because it seemed to be done raining. We gathered and burned trimmings, and also loaded the trailer with the bigger pieces of wood that were salvaged from the trimmings.

Around 6:30 or 7:00, we left to milk the sheep, as they must be milked in the morning and evening every day for the 6 months of the year that they produce milk. This was quite an educational experience. I milked a sheep once when I took a lambing class at Cal Poly and we had to get some milk for the lamb of a bad mommy, but in that case, a group of us tacked and held down the sheep while we gathered a small amount of milk. These sheep want to be milked (for the most part)- their babies were taken away, the females kept to grow the herd, and the males harvested for meat, so there is not other way to lighten the burden of the heavy milk in their udders. But each sheep has its' own personality and accompanying behaviors. Dario said sometimes they will poop in the milk bucket, which he feels they usually do in spite. Some he has to catch, some try to cut in front of others for their turn at being milked. In any case, it was a rather comical affair. These sheep are a lot cuter and show a lot more personality than other sheep I've encountered, actually communicating through their eyes. The sheep all have names, of course, and my favorite name was Ricotta. On the last day, when Andy and I were walking home in the rain, the sheep came over to us, very insistently demanding that we stay and chat awhile. The ones in front let us pet them, appearing to quite enjoy it. They are pretty darn hilarious.

Earlier that day, before we left for work, I helped Andy wash the cheese wheels. They are stored in a cave in their house, that they think may date to pre-Roman times. This area was a cultural center of the Etruscan civilization, and many of the caves in this area are from that period. A mold develops on the outside of the wheels, and they wash it off every few days, so that it doesn't grow enough to penetrate the rind, which protects the aging cheese inside.

Later I got to hang out with Anna while she made a batch of cheese. She makes it approximately every two 2.5 days, because that's how long it takes them to accumulate enough milk for a large wheel with the current size of their milking herd (9). I picked Anna's brain about her whole process... skip over the rest of this paragraph, unless you are like me and find the details of dairy culturing fascinating. She uses a traditional rennet taken from the stomach of animals, processed into a paste that she dissolves into water. You can buy liquid or powder, but they are much more processed. She adds a very small amount of dried milk cultures, which helps the good bacteria overcome the bad. She has a blend with several kinds of bacteria (4-5), but there are many other kinds of milk bacterias that you can buy. She gets hers from a friend who creates and orders his own custom-designed blends directly from a company that makes the cultures. You could culture the milk with the existing cultures in the milk, but it's safer this way, because it ensures that the desirable bacteria have enough numbers to overcome the undesirable bacteria.

She heats the milk to body temperature, adds the culture and rennet, and in less than an hour, the proteins solidify. She separates the solids from the whey, cutting the solid "pudding" with a knife to help remove the whey. She puts the solids into a mold to drain. Teseo and I each had a cup of whey, which tasted sweet, light, and delicious. It tastes much like the raw milk, which I tasted right after milking, but not as rich and creamy. As Anna was working the whey away from the solids, she also made us each a "cheese mouse," which is just a squished handful of fresh cheese. So good!

With the leftover whey, she makes ricotta. Ricotta means, re-cooked, and that's exactly what she does. With heat, several more milk proteins become solid. At body temperature, these particular proteins do not solidify, so it is necessary to apply heat. Cow's milk has fewer kinds of proteins, so it is not as good for making ricotta as sheep milk is, as most of its proteins solidify at body temperature. After 10 minutes or so, the ricotta rose to the surface, Anna fished it out with a slotted spoon, and dropped it into molds to drain. So easy! Dario told me that to tell someone, "tu fai la ricotta," (you make ricotta), it's like saying, you don't do anything, you just take what's given. The whey that is leftover from the ricotta is not devoid of nutrition. Anna said this would be the perfect thing to feed to pigs if they had any- apparently they love it!

I didn't get to see the rest of the process, but after a day or so, she adds salt to the cheese. This also helps the cheese form a crust, which protects it from mold as it ages in the cave. She doesn't put a new wheel into the cave right away, because otherwise it will not form a proper crust. In aging cheese, humidity and temperature are all-important: too dry, the cheese dries out, too wet, the cheese doesn't form a proper crust, and the mold is more likely to penetrate.

I bought a wheel to take back with me to Ascoli- I ate it so fast, it was so good! I was their second customer after Anna's mom! They are not licensed to sell their cheese yet, as their facilities aren't up to standards (Anna makes it in a regular ol' kitchen). They've applied for a grant to pay for a set-up that would allow them to be able to sell the cheese, but are still waiting to hear. For now, their main source of income is the olive oil. I hope they get the grant!

Montefiascone

The farm where Andy is working is on the outskirts of a town called Montefiascone. I found it to be a little hidden treasure. The historic center is extremely small, but quainter and cleaner than I've come to expect. And there is a well-kept park on top of a big hill, where you feel totally removed from the commotion of the city traffic and you get great views of the surrounding area. See Andy's blog for a panorama view from the park: http://ao-agicolaitaliana.blogspot.com/.

Andy and I had dinner in Montefiascone on Friday night, because Anna and Dario had lots of family visiting that night. At Dante, where they serve very traditional dishes, we ate salami with bread, fresh egg pasta with porcini and tomato sauce, lamb cooked over a fire, sausages, artichokes alla Romana, and green salad. So we indulged again.

On Easter Sunday, Andy and I got the majority of the day off after we stacked some firewood. We walked into town, wandering aimlessly, taking our time, breaking for gelato and cafe. We also had a little aperitivo on the rooftop terrace of Dante, the restaurant where we ate a couple of nights before. After gelato, cafe, and vino, I was in quite a state, and had to climb the hill to the park again to work it off. We also found a little lookout point with my favorite view of all looking into the lake valley. So beautiful!

Nourishing and Being Nourished by the Land

On Friday, I worked all day with Andy on the farm. It was great to finally meet the family he has been living with: Anna, who is German, emanates a quality of calm command, while also seeming easy-going with her always-ready smile and laugh; Dario, who is from Napoli (southern Italy), is always ready to make a joke at the expense of Italians of various "categories," or often at the expense of himself; and Teseo, who is only a year and a half, is at the moment entirely obsessed with Andy. They are in their mid-thirties, but seem like they could be even younger. They met on a farm in Italy in an olive orchard, where they were doing something like WWOOF-ing, working for food and lodging.

Their place is full of good vibes, and it felt quite therapeutic to live there for a few days. Their house is so charming and cozy. About two-hundred years old, It was called 'il circolo' (the circle) during the WWII era, and it was used as a community gathering space. The first television in Montefiascone was housed in this building, and the whole town came to there to watch. They remodeled it, and it is absolutely perfect, if you ask me.

Andy's room is adjacent to the kitchen, and it has sliding glass doors. So there isn't much privacy, and Teseo comes in and out of the room as he pleases, but mostly we enjoy his visits. His favorite activities at the moment are playing guitar with Andy (he calls it lala), racing all around the flagstone floor on his plastic car, and saying Andy's name (An-da) approximately every two seconds, apparently even when Andy is gone all day. When I first got there, he was very shy towards me- every time I looked at him, he would look away, giggling shyly. Then he warmed up to me... Andy may have some competition- the second night he gave me his apple when he wouldn't give it to Andy, and he let me beep the horn on his car, which he never lets Andy do. His favorite words are scarpa (shoe) and gamba (leg). In the first two days of my stay, he learned to take off his shoes before coming onto our mattress- he did it on his own without being told beforehand.

The work, gathering and burning the trimmings from olive tree pruning, was surprisingly enjoyable. The orchard is beautiful, and although there are glimpses of the lake valley through the border vegetation, it feels like a little micro-universe, a protected little pocket of serenity. It felt great to work with my body, instead of sitting all jammed up in a classroom, for a change. They are a little late in pruning their trees, and it is a lot of work, because this orchard was left wild for some years before they recently acquired it and began farming it. So, there is extra pruning to do. Andy and I worked on gathering and burning wood all day, from 9am to 6pm, with a short lunch break. We got lucky two other days, because it was raining- we worked one long afternoon and one long morning. Andy has gotten really good at building "carts", using the larger pieces to cradle the smaller trimming, so that he can drag a large load over to the burning spot.

Three teenage cats kept us company- one was especially sweet and eager for attention. We named her Tesoro (treasure) and contemplated plans to take her home with us. But she seems quite happy to live in the orchard, playing and climbing oilve trees with her brothers. They probably don't get much to eat, and they were boldly going after our lunch as we ate. Dario, who clearly has a soft spot for kitties, fed them some ricotta.

Our lunch was ricotta, which we spread over homemade brown sourdough bread, upon which we drizzled oilve oil. We also had a large omelet with chives, which we split amongst ourselves. I couldn't imagine a more satisfying meal. Another day, the homemade brown sourdough bread was accompanied by a wedge of pecorino and greens braised in olive oil and served with their own cured black olives.

For more insight about life on the farm, check out Andy's blog:

http://ao-agicolaitaliana.blogspot.com/

Driving in Italy

For all of you picturing me driving a little manual Fiat Punto around Italy and biting your nails, be afraid, be very afraid. No, actually, I was quite proud of myself- I did rather well, if I do say so myself. Once I got used to the facts that "Italians take their half out of the middle," as Jonathan always says, and tailgating is universal practice, it was actually kind of fun. I sure had to be on my toes though- twisty, windy, narrow roads; steep inclines; the most chaotic, misleading signage I could ever imagine; and crazy speeding Italians made for quite the adventure.

Riserva Naturale di Monte Rufeno

The next day we drove the car to Aquapendente, where I gave Andy a tour, since I had mastered the historic center the day before. We picked up some bread, salame, and cheese for a picnic lunch (photo). Then we drove to one of the trail heads for the Nature Reserve of Mount Rufeno. I have been dying for a nature-fix, and I chose this place after doing some research, since it was so close to Andy's farm. I was pleasantly surprised by how beautiful it was- a lush oak forest littered with abandoned casali (houses). Italians aren't much for hiking, so while the trail was well-marked, it appeared seldom traveled, and we saw no other people the entire day.

But it wasn't all blue sky and roses- the next day I discovered three small ticks attached to my body. I got them off, and am keeping an eye on the bite sites for any signs of irritation, as the worry with ticks is lyme disease. We also saw a viper on the trail, which Andy's hosts have been worried about lately, because one of their sheep was recently bitten in the field and died. So we felt very lucky on that one. And if that wasn't enough, we narrowly missed a run-in with a banshee. Actually, we think it was a wild pig, but it sounded kind of like a dying crow, except it was too throaty sounding to be a bird. We heard it about a third of the way through our 10 kilometer hike, and then again about two-thirds of the way through. After the first time, we were ready and alert for an encounter with a wild pig/banshee- the plan was Andy would pick up a big branch and attack/defend, and I would be ready with the camera. About 10 minutes later we heard something racing down the hill, and it leaped onto and across the trail, no more than 10 feet in front of us. With his ever ready and sharp reflexes, Andy dropped into a karate-like stance, letting out a war cry (to me it sounded like a frightened yelp). It was a deer. The second time, the source of the cry was definitely getting closer to us as we walked. Andy picked up a big branch, ready to defend... luckily we stopped hearing the sound after the trail went into a coniferous wood.

That night we had dinner in Aquapendente at a restaurant called Quintaluna (fifth moon), which was recommended by our agriturismo host. It was simple/traditional, yet elegant. For antipasti, we had fried stuffed cannoli with tomato sauce and oven-melted pecorino cheese with truffle sauce. For primi, we had pici pasta with a ragu sauce. For secondi, we chose lamb (slow cooked and falling off the bone), and baccala (fish, served in a pesto sauce). For contorni (vegetables), we ate roasted veggies (peppers, zucchini, eggplant), and green salad. And of course, red wine and bread. Turned out a bit pricy, but it was the first restaurant meal for both of us, so we felt ok about spoiling ourselves a bit.

Agriturismo Pulicaro

I kicked off my spring break, which started on Wednesday, by staying at an agriturismo in northern Lazio, about 45 minutes away from the farm where Andy is working. I chose it for its proximity to both Andy and a small nature reserve. Sandy, Jonathan, Axel, and I drove together to Orvieto, where I dropped them off at the train station. They headed for Firenze (Fllorence), and I drove to the agriturismo. I was a little nervous to drive the car for the first time (driving in Italy is crazy, more on that later), but I must say, I was quite proud of how I did. I arrived to Pulicaro, the agriturismo, in less than an hour. They grow olive and fruit trees, vegetables, and raise chickens and geese, plus some honey and other things. It was fun to follow the chickens around the property, studying their velociraptor mannerisms as they pecked at the grass and tried to decide whether or not our photography efforts were threatening.

I spent the afternoon in Aquapendente, the nearest town, until it was time to pick up Andy from his farm. I did what has become to feel like the standard routine: check out the cheese, bread, meat, and gelato shops, find the best ones, and then buy some. I always have my food radar on, I usually forget to pay any attention to the churches and other architecture.

After a stressful but adventuresome drive with beautiful glimpses of Lago di Bolsena through the trees (the largest natural lake in Europe, pooled in a volcanic crater), I arrived at Andy's farm, said hello to the family, and we headed back to Pulicaro.

Food

The schedule of the daily market happens to exactly coincide with my work schedule: Monday through Saturday, 8am-1pm. For me, this is very sad, as farmers' markets are my one truest urban passion. This Saturday, however, Axel was sick and couldn't go to school, so I got the opportunity to go. I went the first few days I was here, of course, before we started school, and I've been missing it since. I find this particular market more intimidating than any of the other markets I've been to in Italy, so it is a good fun challenge.

The vendors, who are mostly older folks, are very assertive and insistent that you need to buy this or that from them. I'm still having trouble getting my ears to hear italian well, and it seems particularly difficult with this crowd. So I have to say "non ho capito" (I didn't understand) a lot. Right now, they have mostly leafy green type things, but there are also eggs, cheese, sausages, flowers, and fruit. I get the feeling that these could be people from the surrounding hills coming down with their garden spoils. I've been running up the winding roads that go up into the hills, along which the houses are strung sparsely, and there are large garden plots all along the way. There are also lots of olive trees. All of the veggies I have bought so far have been particularly flavorful and delicious.

It is a rather small little market- most days there are only a small handful of vendors, but on Saturday there are more- maybe 12-15. They all mostly have the same stuff- veggies, some hand-gathered and unwashed (love it) eggs (which have beautiful golden yolks), and sometimes cheese or dried beans or home-cured olives. My favorite is a young woman who sells cheese, sausage, and sometimes veggies, all labeled "BIO," which I'm beginning to think is their version of organic. Her stuff is particularly artisan looking, and delicious. Here is a photo of the Saturday market and another of some of my market loot, including onions, potatoes, broccoli, sausage (cured and uncured), dried olives, and pecorino cheese. Buon appetito!

First Day of School

The first day of school. Well, I know this much so far: the culture and dynamic of the classroom is very different than in the U.S. Yet, the kids are just the same somehow. School started at 8am. It was so strange to see dozens of kids walking to school on a Saturday morning. It takes me a little over 20 minutes to walk to school, and for most of the time, I walked opposite a current of what appeared to be high-schoolers. They could have been high-schoolers anywhere in America.

For the first two hours of school, we had mathematics. After the excitement of our arrival cooled off (a bit), they started in on their work. One by one they went to the front of the room to perform a division problem on the board, while the rest of the kids talked, worked, or more or less did their own thing. Organized chaos. It was a bit of a circus, yet there was a flow to it, an order. The kids pay attention to each other and the teacher, and the play off of one another. But there was a lot going on, and several times I was caught unaware that I was being addressed, because there was so much going on that I couldn't attend to it all.

They are all totally fascinated by Axel, which I expected (blonde hair, blue eyes, from California). They realized quickly that he couldn't understand italian, so they began chattering excitedly at me, asking me questions about him, asking me to tell him things, etc. This while a math lesson was going on. They are absolutely adorably precious. They made such an effort to welcome and help Axel. They got a little competitive, fighting over who got to sit next to him, who got to lend him their colored pencils, who got to be on his team. One would start to tell me something, and before he got more than 5 words into the sentence, another one was there, pushing him to the side, talking over him, saying that he wanted to tell me.

In PE class they played this crazy game called pala prigioniero (prisoner ball), kind of like dodgeball, where the object is to catch the ball, capture and free prisoners. Axel did a great job catching on, and they were all so cool about helping him out. There are only 2 girls in the class, all the rest boys, 13 of them. Axel and I joked that it was just like kickball back in SLO- all the boys arguing over every other play.

Next they had science class. I don't think I am so fond of this teacher (different from math). She was very intense. The kids were assigned to memorize a poem about the pope (yes, you read correctly, this is science class), and one by one they recited. For the kids that hadn't found time to memorize it, she gave a stare that made me shiver. Yikes. She asked me if we were catholic. When I responded, no, she asked what religion we followed, in a tone that made me hesitant to say none. Ooops. I should have said Buddhist. Or pagan. Or Hollywood. Oh well.

Can't wait to see what Monday will bring...

Basta cosi.

The italians are trying to make me fat. I've realized that I need to say "basta cosi" (that's enough, or stop there), at least one handful/spoonful before I actually want them to stop serving out food. I have more broccoli in my fridge than I could eat in a week if I were to eat it at every meal, because after I said, "basta cosi," the market vendor grabbed another handful (larger than any of the preceding handfuls) right after she looked at me, asking "basta?". At dinner with my italian parents, it is the same. "Prendi, prendi," (take, take), they tell me after I've already had seconds of everything. Again, that sneaky additional ultra-large spoonful. The father told me, in so many words, that it is not believable that I actually like the food unless I eat more. So I had to have another spoonful. Mama mia.

On another note, what is it with the italians and litter? Honestly, everywhere there is so much trash. On the college campus! I just don't understand how people can drop trash on the ground and not think twice.

After dinner last night, my mama italiana showed me where to dump my biodegradables. Ascoli must have some kind of municipal composting system, because there are standardized containers for this everywhere. I haven't been able to find more info about it, but it's cool that they are doing something like that. She exclaimed in annoyance at the sight of garbage bags dumped carelessly near the dumpsters (but not in), pronouncing these people "incivili" (uncivilized), and went on to grumble about their ignorance and her inability to understand this behavior. Amen, sister. I just don't get it. In America, she remarked, they are civilized, in Italy, uncivilized. Eh, I responded doubtfully, and we laughed at the mystery of thoughtless people. I suppose every place has its vices.

Photo: The river bank strewn with litter.

Eco! Saimo qui...

Today it is raining in Ascoli Piceno, so I've decided to start my blog. We arrived two days ago after a long journey of driving and flying. And boy, what a welcome! I've settled into my apartment, which belongs to the architecture professoressa that Sandy is doing a teaching exchange with. When we met in SLO over Thai food, she warned me that it wasn't much, very small. I was picturing a little nook, something like what I had in Rome. Well, what a surprise! Not only quite sizable, but totally chic. That's what I get for living in an architect's apartment!

My new italian mama (the architecture professoressa's mother lives in the same apartment building) provided a thorough lesson on the workings of all the appliances and storage compartments. This was quite appreciated as an italian lesson- she repeated words like spegni (turn off) about a million times. She is absolutely the stereotypical italian mama, it's great! She had stocked my kitchen with food, much of which she made herself.

In the morning she gave me a tour of the neighborhood. "Dove vai (where are you going)?" she asked me jokingly as I took a wrong turn after instructed to bring her back home. After each destination she made me find the way back home so I could learn where each stop was in relation to home. She said hello to almost every single person we saw along the way, calling them by name, and informing them that I am from California and don't understand italian molto bello (very beautifully). When I chuckled as she said this the first time, the grocery store clerk protested, chastising her for not giving me enough credit.

People do not speak english here like in Rome. In Rome, people often began speaking english to you as soon as they detected that you were foreign. Here they keep right on in italian, it's great.

Last night my italian mama had us all over for dinner. It was great fun piecing together a conversation. Sandy speaks the most italian, but her and I are both struggling to get back into italian mode. The parents speak only italian, and Jonathan and Axel only english. But we did a great job, I absolutely adore them.

This morning I went to the main produce market and bought potatoes, sausage, onion, cheese, and other things. The culinary adventure begins! Tomorrow is the 150 year celebration, so everything is closed, and there are supposedly festivities. So we are still not sure when we will start school... maybe Monday? Can't wait to meet the kiddos!