Archive for the ‘life in calabria’ Category
sunday scribblings: masks
Prompt #60: Masks
Adjusting to life in a foreign country can be difficult on many levels from bureaucracy to figuring out where to do all of your daily shopping–bread at the panetteria (bakery), pork chops at the macelleria (butcher shop), perfume at the profumeria (perfume shop), Blistex at the farmacia (pharmacy), shampoo at the tabaccheria (tobacco shop)–of course!
But nothing can compare to the entirely unexpected feeling that I had lost a big part of my sparkling wit personality somewhere over the Atlantic, a phenomenon I’ve also mentioned here and here.
Now please don’t think I’m saying that you should never move to a foreign country without knowing the language. I did it, and obviously I’ve survived. Of course it’s more of a challenge, and I can only talk of my own experience, but not speaking Italian fluently at first isn’t too much of a problem because you can still get along fine in most instances. And keep in mind that I’m in the south where there are very few English speakers.
That said, I did feel a negative effect in social and personal situations–I found myself concentrating so hard on the basics of what was being said that I never got the joke; let’s not debate the Italian sense of humor right now, but I’ll note that our differences there were/are also a factor.
What I’m talking about are the nuances of a language. For my entire life on the other side of the pond, I took for granted that I could effortlessly make others smile or laugh with a few well-crafted, well-timed words. That I always had a response. That I was never left tongue-tied and wondering what would’ve been a good comeback.
Yes, I’ve had moments of “what I wish I had said” like everyone does, but here, they became the norm; when it takes hours to fully comprehend the two most important lines of a conversation, a witty retort on the spot isn’t very likely.
And so for a long time, I felt like I was wearing a mask–and worst of all, it was one that I didn’t choose for myself. People saw me as shy, quiet, perhaps uncomfortable in social situations, and to an extent, I can certainly be all of those things, but not to the degree that they would have thought.
I was just trying so hard to follow the action that my real personality was below layers and layers of verb conjugations, idioms, and obscure (to me) cultural references.
Did I hide behind the straniera mask sometimes too? Absolutely. I’ll admit that many times it was just easier to say “non capisco” (I don’t understand) than really participate. I’m human, and I get tired of paying attention.
To. Every. Single. Word. For. Hours. On. End.
And when social situations become work, well, not surprisingly, they just aren’t fun anymore. So occasionally I put up my mask, and we inevitably ended the evening with a pity party, just the two of us. But for me, this was an essential part of my growth process here, as I needed to hit rock bottom, so to speak, in order to throw off the mask.
Getting a better grasp of Italian has definitely helped me feel more like myself again, but confidence and courage have played even bigger roles. After many frustrating evenings out with Italians, I reached back to when I began college, when I started out fresh, knowing no one, and when it seemed like some of my peers were speaking a different language (turned out they were, and it was something along the lines of Spoiledbratese).
At some point, I realized that I was going to have to do here what I did there; I was going to have to be a Nike commercial, and just do it.
And to paraphrase Robert Frost: I have, and that has made all the difference.
No matter where you are, you have to be willing to get out there, make mistakes (and learn from them), be yourself, and not care if you don’t fit with preconceived notions of whatever it is “they” think you should be. And most of all, you have to be willing to rip off that mask (whether you put it there or not) because it’s hiding the real, wonderful you that the world deserves to know.
Besides, being hidden gets kind of boring.
And boy do I love when I make P laugh.
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[tags]sunday scribblings, masks, culture shock, learning a language[/tags]
my morning brew
From the title of my blog, you may think that I’m addicted to espresso. Well I do have some sort of coffee beverage at least once a day, so you wouldn’t be far from the truth.
As the days warm up, though, I’m just not craving something hot and savory in the morning when I make my way, rubbing my eyes, to the kitchen. I need something refreshing to wake me up.
Some days I’ll have a freshly-squeezed spremuta d’arancia–that’s the fancy Italian name for orange juice. Luckily between my in-laws and neighbors, I always have a great supply of oranges.
But does the late spring weather mean I don’t need caffeine? Hah!
And yet I don’t want something warmer than the Calabrian sun either.
So sometimes I have iced coffee.
Yes, I know that this is nothing new to most of you, but the first time I tried to explain this to the barista here, she looked at me as if I were speaking English. And I wasn’t, I swear.
Instead of dealing with that and to save me not only the trouble bringing my own ice to the bar (they usually don’t have any) but also a few euros a week, I make my own iced coffee at home, and you can too! Bella and I corresponded about this the other day, and I thought maybe more of you would like in on the secret.
Every night after dinner, I make a pot of espresso (you can use whatever coffee you like, of course). When it’s done, I add sugar to the whole pot, stir well, and leave the top open to cool off a bit. Then before I go to sleep, I pour the sweetened espresso into a small plastic water bottle and put the bottle in the refrigerator.
In the morning, I break out a tall glass, plop in some ice cubes (trays brought from the United States), pour in about two espresso cups full of coffee, and fill the rest with milk–I like a lot of milk–and there I have my very own fatto in casa iced coffee.
I can even have another if I like. And I often do.
Bottoms up!
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[tags]iced coffee, coffee, espresso[/tags]
adoring april
Time for my April Monthly Musing seeing as we’re only a weekend away from the end of these lovely 30 days.
I love April, second only to October, my birth month. Makes perfect sense because if you mapped out the year, they’d be on opposite sides of the scales, balancing out the coldest of the cold and the warmest of the warm with their usually pleasant although often unpredictable temps.
And if I’m about anything, I’m about balance, being a Libra and all.
April is special, though, because it gives me a bit of warmth, a glimpse at the months to come, a feeling of being more alive and wanting to get out and feel the sunshine on my cheeks again–which is saying a lot for someone who really, really doesn’t enjoy baking in the sun. Needless to say, the SPF always comes first.
I didn’t use to get Spring Fever when I lived in the United States, and maybe that’s because where I lived, the weather never got spectacularly warm until Julyish, so what was the point anyway…but here…I have felt my entire mood shift in just a month.
I find myself getting up earlier and earlier, not being able to fall back asleep once I start thinking of getting up and out and walking with Luna and getting so warm that I have to take off even the lightest of jackets. I feel more energized, wanting to clean out all the must and dust of winter, smelling the freshness of flowers mixed with cleaning solutions as they waft out of the window and balcony door, which, thankfully, I have been leaving open all day now.
Not even sending off my American taxes in the middle of all this can spoil the mood.
April also marks the beginning of Spring Cleaning down at what we call “il giardino.”
It’d be safe to assume that P did the majority of the work as I was busy taking photos; bless his heart, he actually told me I could bring a book!
Here’s part of the area after many hours of P’s hard work:
And here are two of our new little friends:
Now go check out Cheeky’s thoughts on April, and then get out there and enjoy the final days of this special month.Don’t forget that you, too, can appreciate each month as it passes by recording your thoughts–and letting me know so I can link to you.
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[tags]april, gardens, calabria, lizards, snails[/tags]
love thursday: an illicit affair
I love strawberries. And I know I’m not the only one.
Last week at the Friday market, I bought a case of them (I have no idea how much they actually weighed) for 5 euros, and believe me, it was a deal. Just two little containers of them can run you 2 whole euros, whereas the case holds 10 containers.
And if you’re unsure of my love of strawberries, let’s make this clear–P doesn’t eat them, so that entire case was for me, and was gone by Monday afternoon.
My strategy is to clean two containers at a time, stir in some sugar, and let them sit until they are in a gooey, teeth-curling sweet syrup. Don’t worry, I eat some sans sweetener along the way as well.
On Friday afternoon, when I was elbow-deep in strawberries, P rescued this one (yes, it’s just one) from the line of fire, providing me with a perfect Love Thursday photo:
I didn’t end up eating the entire 10 containers of strawberries myself, though, as I shared a few with neighbors. My Aussie friend and neighbor returned the favor by inviting me over Sunday morning for breakfast, and this was the main dish:
Strawberries with fresh ricotta cheese drizzled with honey.
The flavors mixed together amazingly, and since my friend is also a restaurant pro, she even threw in a sprig of basil once she saw I was pulling out the camera. And yet again, we have a dish with the colors of the Italian flag; anyone else, expats or otherwise, find it odd how often that happens? All we ever had in America was that Fourth of July blueberry and strawberry flag cake, I think, which for the record, I’ve never made or eaten.
I really do love strawberries, but I appreciate them even more because here we eat everything only when in season. Sure, maybe an odd strawberry would’ve been nice in January, but that’s not even an option, and I’m glad it’s not.
My body is adjusting to seasonal eating, and I like it–it starts knowing what it needs just about the time it’s coming into season. I found it this past year with artichokes, chicory, and, of course, my beloved strawberries, and it will soon happen with figs, peaches, cucumbers, and fresh, juicy tomatoes.
The mouth-watering anticipation makes everything I like just a little more special when I can finally have it. Or, absence apparently does make the heart grow fonder.
And so my illicit affair with strawberries will be in full force for a little while longer until all the 5 euro crates slowly disappear, and my obsession is put on hiatus once again.
Until next year.
Happy Love Thursday everyone!
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[tags]strawberries, ricotta, ricotta cheese, honey, love thursday[/tags]
wanting to kiss the telecom man is wrong
But that didn’t stop the desire.
I’m baaaack!
The rest of the village had service repaired about a week ago, but there was an additional, mysterious problem with my line. Yes, I made a nuisance of myself at Telecom headquarters (I had a phone operator in an uproar *with* me yesterday!), and it apparently worked because a repairman called this morning and asked for specific directions to my house; I told him if he made it up the mountain, I’d meet him in the piazza (with coffee/wine/beer, I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to freak him out).
He showed up fifteen minutes later just as he said he would, and within a half hour, I was checking up on PerezHilton.com.
I have priorities, you know.
Anyway, today is Liberation Day in Italy, or the day we celebrate the Allied troops’ freeing Italy from the wrath of Germany during World War II. It’s a “red” day here, which means the number of the day is literally in red on the calendar signifying that it’s a national holiday, so everything is closed–making it even more surprising that Telecom delivered on April 25th.
And the poetic justice of my being liberated to communicate with the outside world on this of all days is not lost on me.
Back to blogging business, I see on my Bloglines account that I have approximately 1300 posts of others to catch up on. Um, we’ll see how that goes. First I have a lot of work to do, sending things off and whatnot, and then, slowly but surely, I’ll be making my rounds. I’ll be responding to emails in due time as well, so please be patient. And again, thanks so much for all the concerned comments and messages; what a wonderful feeling to be missed!
Also, I realize today should be a What’s Cooking Wednesday, but you’ll forgive me if we get back to the recipes next week, won’t you? I’m just too giddy to cook (sorry P).
But here’s a photo of our first fig of the season, though, just because.
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[tags]telecom italia, figs, liberation day, giorno della liberazione, bloglines[/tags]
Michelle Kaminsky is an American attorney-turned-freelance writer who lived in her family's ancestral village in Calabria, Italy for 15 years. This blog is now archived.
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