The Story Of How I Almost Got Deported

The day after my mom left, Alessia sent me to London. And this is where my tale unravels. In all honesty, I’ve been living/working somewhat (entirely) illegally for the past 3 months or so because I didn’t have visa. I only came over on a tourist visa with the intent of getting a work visa but it never happened. So the plan was to send me to London so I could get passport stamps to appear more legal. In actuality that wouldn’t have worked anyway. The law is this: Within a six-month period you can stay ONLY 90 days. Leaving and returning doesn’t start your 90 days back over, it just pauses the counter while you’re gone. But since Italy is pretty lax on their passport control we figured it wouldn’t be a big deal. And for Italy, it wasn’t. For London it was. Which, let me just go off on a rant for a second and say, stupid London, it wasn’t your business or your place to question the legality of my time/employment in Italy. That being said, I know I was in the wrong. But stupid London all the same. Alright, I’m done pouting so I can tell you what happened now.

The fatal flaw was that I was sent to London, in the middle of the night, by myself, with no luggage and no place to stay. I didn’t have a place to stay because I didn’t need a place to stay since my boss put me on a plane arriving at 11:45pm and departing at 6:10am. Yep, six hours in the middle of the night is a little bit sketch. I’ll agree to that. So immigration/passport control couldn’t figure out why I was coming if I was just to get back on a plane and turn around. They didn’t believe my truthful answer of “meeting friends who are studying abroad here.” So I came out with the deeper truth of my quest for passport stamps. Needless to say, Paula, my immigration officer didn’t like this and appeared very perturbed I was interrupting her midnight reading of a John Grisham novel with my illegal problems. She said, “strictly speaking, you can’t do that.” Well duh. But I said, “Yes, I know. I understand.” Thinking she’d be satisfied with her scolding accompanied by a disappointed look but agree it wasn’t England’s problem or responsibility. But rather than, stamp my passport and send me on my way, she created more work for herself, thus prolonging her Grisham intermission, and gave me a stamped paper entitled “Notice of Detainment” and made me sit down and wait. I wish Paula hadn’t been “strictly speaking”.

After several minutes I was escorted to a back area and into an interrogation room (which was momentarily terrifying). Paul wall and I shared our cozy room while she searched my bag and my person then questioned me, writing down all my answers along the way. Paulie D left and sent me a babysitter named Joan. Joan informed me she wasn’t with immigration at all but a separate agency whose task was to look after detainees. Joan took my picture and searched me again, tagged my bag, took it away and led me to a bigger room with lots of airport gate seats but it had blankets and pillows and a TV and there were seashells and seahorses painted on the walls. I got free food and free drinks and several papers explaining to me why I was being detained and furthermore, denied access to the UK. Apparently I was a high-risk person for staying to work illegally. Alright, rub my nose in my mistakes.

So I was to be put back on the first flight to Italy, which was already the flight I was scheduled to be on. Until then I had to spend the night in the seashell prison. Just like America, not a whole lot to watch in the middle of the night so I watched weird British reality TV. I know a lot about the female weightlifters England is sending to the Olympics. About halfway through that I was joined by a 27 year old Baptist, Brazilian, classical composer. His name was William (in English) and we spent the night talking about life, love, philosophy and everything else you can imagine. I was grateful to have some company and glad it was someone mostly normal but I really did spend the entire experience just laughing to myself, not believing this was really happening. I hope it was the closest thing to jail I’ll ever experience.

Shortly before my flight, Joan came for me. She escorted me past everyone to the gate, past all of those people to the front of the line and I was first to board the plane. Turns out Joan liked me a lot more than Paula. Joan told me I can return to the UK at anytime, I’ll just have to be in a different situation, aka not an illegal immigrant, and I might have to explain what happened but it won’t keep me from entering. And as far as being deported, it was up to the Italian police but Italy is much less strict than the UK so I shouldn’t have any problems. After she made sure I was on the plane and had given my passport to the pilot (that’s right, I wasn’t to be trusted with it) we said goodbye and off the Italy I went.

Once we landed, everyone got up to gather their things as it always happens on the planes but then it was requested that everyone return to their seats. After that happened, there was an announcement over the intercom, “Cathryn Nicole, please come to the front of the aircraft.” Yep. So that was neat. First one on, first one off. I’m hoping everyone just thought I was a VIP rather than a dangerous person/prisoner.  The flight attendant asked if I had all my belongings and I said everything but my passport to which he replied, “Oh, he has it,” and pointed to an Italian police officer. (Now was when my hopes of slipping through lax Italian passport control, unnoticed, died.)

Once inside the police office, we figured out real quick that I didn’t speak much Italian and they didn’t speak much English. When asked why I was returning to Italy, I was glad I could truthfully reply that my trip was only scheduled one day. I had to repeat this answer three times. With boarding passes as proof we were able to move on to the next question, “What did you tell to the London police when they ask why you come?”

“That I came only to get passport stamps.”

“But why did you go?”

“To get passport stamps.”

“But why?”

“Because UK is non Schenngean. For stamps.”

**Italian mumblings to each other**

“Ok, for us it is no problem you come in Italy.”

And with that, I was once again, escorted to the front of the line, got an entry stamp and was set free!

Since I’m pretty sure the only reason I escaped deportation was because of our communication barrier I talked to Alessia and told her the whole story. We both decided it was better and smarter and safer for me to end my time in Rome and return to the US. So that all happened last Monday/Tuesday and here I sit, at the airport in Istanbul, awaiting my flight to New York. I could have stayed until December and I would have been fine with that but my heart is truly and really happy to be coming home now. And I’d told God that the week before this happened. He is good and faithful as always and he didn’t even have to deport me to make it happen.

Summer Summary

Summer got super crazy and I didn’t take time to write. Mi dispiace. Sorry.  We spent a lot of time on the boat, our own boat, and it was wonderful. I loved it. Except for the part of being trapped on it with four small children and working 24/7. But even those parts weren’t that bad because when I really got restless I could just jump off the boat. Problem solved.  Pictures of the boat will be uploaded soon. And most of them weren’t taken by me, thanks goes to Laura.

The first ten days of July a friend from school, Lauren Travis, came to visit. We had a blastly blast and I was delightfully exhausted when she left. This was her fourth time to Rome so we didn’t spend much time seeing the sights and doing the touristy thing so it was kind of fun to do some A-typical things with a friend. Actually everything was A-typical for a tourist in Rome but pretty typical for just hanging out with a friend. We went to Florence over night and that was fantastic as always. I bought my first real grown up lady purse from San Lorenzo market. I considered it an investment since it’ll probably be my only purse purchase for the next several years. I’m not much of a bag carrier.

After Lauren left, I spent another week on the boat. We mostly sailed around Ischia a small island close to Capri. It’s pretty similar but less touristy. It’s the Italians little island paradise. During this time we also celebrated my 23^rd birthday. Last year I spent it in Searcy, AR, this year I was on a yacht in the Mediterranean. Not too shabby. The family did a nice job of making it feel like a special day and I really appreciated that. They even got me a cake J and did you know instead of making your birthday wish when you blow out the candles, in Italy, they blow out the candle then make a wish and break the candle. It’s good luck. So I was told.

After the birthday boat, I came back to Rome and my mom was there! I spent some afternoons with her while she was still on tour but then she wrapped that up and came to stay at my house! We had a nice relaxing time. We made an overnight trip to the hilltop village of Orvieto in Umbria. It was the quintessential 3000-year-old Italian village complete with duomo and fantastic views of the surrounding countryside.  We ate at a little trattorria recommended to us by the front desk guy at our hotel. If you’re taking the time to read this you probably know me well enough to know how important food is to me. So let me just tell you, HOLY COW! Possibly the best meal I’d had in my entire six months in Italy. I can’t even remember the name of what I got and even if I could exactly it’s in Italian therefore not of much importance to you. But it was only long pasta with wild boar. But good grief, my mouth is watering just remembering it. Anyway, it was such a nice change first of all to be traveling with someone and secondly, to not be staying in the shadiest/cheapest lodging possible. We spent the whole next day shopping. I’ll repeat that, my mom and I, the haters of shopping, spent the whole next day shopping. I don’t know, it just happened. I blame it on the task of getting souvenirs.

Two-fer

*Disclaimer: My computer was broken for a week so ideally this should be two posts but is being squished into one. Hence the title. But that's why it rambles on more than usual.

Last week I surprisingly got four days off. From Saturday through Tuesday. There was a wedding in Naples so the family was heading down on the boat and while I was really tempted to go for experience's sake, I got greedy and took four wonderful days off instead. Without regret.

So Saturday I finally went to Anguilara, a lake town just North of Rome where Melissa (my Australian, non-live-in coworker) lives. I made it to her house with a little difficulty. After the first bus to the train station, I got off the train at her station. In a text she'd previously told me to get to her part of town when I got off the train there would be a yellow bus and I should get on that and then hop off at a specific spot. When I arrived at the train station there was an orange bus, so naturally I refused to get on it because it wasn't yellow. I know I'm horrible with directions so I tend to do exactly how I'm told or the exact way I know, even if it's not the most direct or quickest. Fifteen minutes later a grey bus showed up in the exact same spot the orange bus had been. You better believe I didn't get on that one either. In my defense, I've gotten pretty good at figuring out the bus system in Rome. Even if I've never taken a certain number bus or been in that part of town I can usually figure out a way to cross paths with a bus I do know. I'm not helpless, just directionally challenged. But this was a different town and there were no bus stop signs, just a big oil spot on the side of the rode from where the bus pauses so frequently. So at this point I texted Melissa to tell her my dilemma. Turns out she'd made a  mistake and either of the buses I'd let go without me would have taken me where I needed to go. Thirty minutes later the next bus, which actually was the first bus I gave up, came along and I finally got where I needed to be.

Melissa and her husband, Adriano, live with another couple, Marta and Georgio, in a tiny but very cute apartment. As we were walking up to the house Adriano warned me not to be afraid because they are into meditation (which I already knew) and so they have a huge picture of their guru right when you walk in the door. That part I did not know but probably wouldn't have been afraid but the fact that he thought to warn me, while considerate, was mostly just funny to me. For lunch we had a traditional Tuscan meal of rabbit. (It was very delicious and when I told the triplets about it on Wednesday they immediately thought we'd eaten their pet rabbit, Luca. Glad to know they think I'm a barbarian.) I also had my first and hopefully last taste of sardines. After lunch we said good-bye to Marta and Georgio then Adriano, Melissa and I headed off to Lake Martignano, the smaller, more private and lesser known lake  just east of Lake Bracciano. Apparently Lake Bracciano is where Tom Cruise got married or has a house or something. Maybe I should brush up on my pop culture? Anyway, it had been a little cloudy all day but we had one perfect hour of sunlight to lay around the lake and it was perfect. Obviously, by the lack of pictures, I forgot my camera again. Sorry mom.

After leaving Martignano and the ominous clouds we walked back into town and I got to see the big lake (Bracciano), old town Anguilara and much to my never failing delight, have a gelato.

Sunday after church I went home with the Vitalone's for lunch and then Vivi and I headed out to Fregene. We spent a fabulous afternoon on the beach, stopped for a snack (at my request) of pizza before returning to the beach house. Riccardo, Vivi's brother, and several of his friends came out and we all watched the Italy v. Spain Euro 2012 match. (**UEFA European Football Championship, commonly referred to as Euro 2012.** That's straight from wikipedia for those of you lacking in soccer knowledge.) It was a great time, they all kept apologizing to me for getting so into the game and yelling at the t.v. I told them it was fine, it was just like American's and American football. They seemed less apologetic after that. The match ended in a tie which was pretty exciting considering Spain has been the undefeated champion for awhile. At least that's what I was told. I'm not claiming to have lots of knowledge on the subject, I just like watching.

After that Vivi and I went out for dinner to the only pub in town for what she considers the "absolute best bacon cheeseburger." It was good but I've had better. Then we got the traditional Fregene dessert I can't remember the name in Italian but the little translation is, "little whores". I'd google it but I'm afraid of what might come up. Essentially it's donut holes smothered in Nutella. Crass name or not, nobody heard a single complaint from me. We decided to sleep in Fregene and spend sometime at the beach the next day before heading back to Rome Monday afternoon. My heart and soul were happy.

Wednesday Merci and Edward left and I almost cried. Even though Merci called me Nikki (which I hate) but since she's fairly temperamental I just went with it as an endearing thing. They'd been fired a couple weeks ago but given time to organize other arrangements/give Alessia time to find a new couple. So an hour or so after they left the new couple arrived, Jessica and Jeremy. They are also Filipino but young and sweet. Jessica is fluent in Italian and English and Jeremy is fluent in neither. So they're a good tag-team. I guess after their "orientation" to the house they weren't required to start working which was nice for them. Later that evening Alessia told me she was so tired from doing all the cooking and cleaning and laundry that day (like a normal person). I tried to keep my laughter to myself.

This past Friday morning I was informed that afternoon at five we'd be heading out for the boat. Turns out it wasn't "our" boat but a friend's boat. She was called Bugia, which I think means "lie", and she was fantastic. Huge and beautiful and most definitely a yacht. I don't know much about boats or yachts or sailing or anything in this area, but I can tell you I'd like to never buy a house and I'd be quite content to just live on a boat. If for no other reason than to watch everyone stumble around like they've all been drinking. I'm mostly kidding about that being a valid reason, just a bonus I guess. I was able to get a few pictures before my camera died. Sorry mom. Don't worry, Alessia, like a good mom, took lots of pictures and I think I'm actually in the foreground of some of them this time. We spent the weekend anchored just off of the Island of Ponza which was weird. Saturday we went in for a walk and it was such a strange place to me. It was like a carni camp crossed with Pleasure Island from Pinocchio (which I guess isn't that outrageous since Pinocchio is Italian, maybe Ponza was the inspiration?) crossed with safety and overrun with ridiculously wealthy people. I guess it just threw me since everyone there was so wealthy I would have thought it'd be more luxurious but it wasn't. At least the part we walked through. Maybe because everyone stays on their yachts Ponza doesn't need to be super nice. I don't know. ANYWAY. The kids got loaded up on candy and Marco slipped the game operator a fiver when Leo didn't win a prize at the water pistol game so Leo still thinks he did. And another thing that was crazy was that Marco knew EVERYBODY. Granted they were mostly from Rome I think and I guess when you and all your friends are filthy rich and you all have yachts it's customary to bump into each other at a well known yacht docking island port. But like I said, I don't know much about such things. But it was seriously like he was the big man on campus (except campus was an island and he had his wife, four children and foreign nanny tagging along) pausing to say hello to people and shake hands, oh and also the double-cheek kiss. That's not very campus typical either.

The weekend went well, the kids wasted most of their energy swimming in the Mediterranean Sea and when they got tired of that we could go out exploring in the little boat. We passed a lot of places I'm pretty sure were Jurassic Park. When that got tiring there was always the tv with cable included. But the water, first, don't you dare call it the ocean, they'll correct you in a heartbeat, it's the sea. But anyway, it so gorgeous!! So blue and SO clear! In the shallows it looks like a melted gatorade slush and where it's deeper it looks like the sky at twilight. God truly is wonderful, perfect and creative. I couldn't stop thanking him for everything I saw.

Oh have I mentioned that staying on the boat was like staying in a five-star hotel? There was a fantastic staff of four who cooked our meals, cleaned everything including our rooms, kept our towels dry and folded, drove us around (in the mini boat) and kept the friend/boat owner's four year old child from jumping over board or causing the boat to sink. Between the seven of us (six Di Paolas and me) we stayed in three beautiful guest bedrooms complete with their own bathrooms and showers. There was also the indoor living/dining area and the outdoor dining area. And on the front deck (maybe by the end of the summer I'll know all the correct terms? except in Italian..) was a huge padded area covered with terry cloth ideal for a daily afternoon nap in the sun.  It. Was. Perfect.

The only thing missing was you :)

I got a tan without getting burned which is always excellent and my annual almost Rogue-ish super blonde semi white sun highlights are in. (Please ignore that X-Men reference unless you appreciated it and then please feel free to enjoy it. Also, don't doubt that I am in fact a 22 year old woman and not a 12 year old boy).
Summer 2012 is well underway and it looks like it will be a fantastic one at that.

Fellowship, Friends and Food

I went to the beach so it's allowed to be summer now. Granted, I didn't spend the day at the beach but I spent time laying around the pool and then went to the beach for dinner. I guess I could just explain. Saturday I caught a ride with some people from church to the Vitalone's (family from church/my Italian teacher/my friends) summer home in Fregene, just about forty minutes outside of Rome. They were having a dinner party. They grilled out and it was almost like being home :) Vivi, the Vitalone's daughter, who attends Harding, is home for the summer. We got along really well and I think we'll be good friends and we're both excited about that! Anyway, we went for a walk on the beach while everyone else stayed home to chat and make dinner. Did you know most every beach in Italy is private and you have to pay to go? This I didn't know but luckily the Vitalone's are already members at beach and I got to mooch off of them. After we washed the sand off our feet and I wiped the blissful smile off my face (just kidding, that stuck around all evening) we went to the bar where I had my first aperitivo. It's just munchie, finger foods and a specific drink (alcoholic or non). When I said, "oh, it's like an appetizer." Vivi said no, but I'm still saying yes. Well, I guess it's closer to the bucket of peanuts at Texas steakhouses or the bowl of mixed nuts you'd find on a bar. So not quite an appetizer but about as close as I get due to my frugal fiscal sense. Aka: My student loans are always hungry so they get to eat first and I get the leftovers. Giancarlo, man from church and my ride, dropped by to pick up gelato for dessert so we finished our non-appetizer appetizer and headed back. The fellowship was just as fulfilling as dinner.

The next day I accompanied Salvatore and Cinzia, my adopted aunt and uncle (don't worry Aunt Pam and Aunt Angela, they're not replacements, just stand-ins :) ) to their plot of land near Tolfa. When I've mentioned this to any other local no one has had any idea where I'm talking about. But it's eighty km north of Rome and situated on the ridge between two hills. It was gorgeous in kind of a weird harsh way. At least to me. I meant to take pictures but well, I have none, sorry. We were meeting a man who was interested in buying their land. He wanted to meet them first which was strange. Cinzia said it's just business that doesn't matter but the man insisted so we made the trip. And I am glad. There is nothing on their land except a run down house and barn. They've been working for six years to get building permits to rebuild but as Cinzia always tells me, "nothing in this country is easy." So that issue, plus they're both still working, plus Tolfa is tiny so there's not much to do, plus they don't have kids who'd come visit have convinced them they should sell. But visiting made both of them think they don't want to sell. It's a nostalgic thing I think. They planted a bunch of trees out there 25 years ago so now they're growing and beautiful and help you just imagine it in years to come. Also, the man was shady about what he wanted the land for. Salvatore has decided the man wants to use it as a lumber/stone yard which we all agreed was sad and should not be allowed to happen. I told Cinzia it was my dream to own land outside of the city someday and she said it had been hers too before she got too old.

After our meeting with the man and inspection of the land we went for lunch. The restaurant was in the middle of the country near Tolfa. We had to open and close a gate ourselves so the cows wouldn't get out and on the road up the hill to the place passed a water truck which Cinzia told me meant they didn't have running water. How can you run a restaurant without running water? Beats me but apparently these people know because it was great and they were busy. The food, well, briefly put, was fantastic just like pretty much everything else I've had here. And just like always Salvatore placed an order for me on top of what I'd already ordered and gave me a portion of his plate. I wasn't starving to begin with so I couldn't eat everything. Salvatore told me he was disappointed I wasn't eating up to my full potential. He said that because he's seen how much I can and do actually eat on more than one occasion. I was able to fend off dessert at least until they drove me home and we stopped for gelato. Part of me is looking forward to being pregnant someday so I can blame my post-meal food baby on an actual baby.

These are the things I couldn’t make up if I wanted to

 Yesterday Cris asked me what I wanted to be when I got big. I had a good laugh at that since apparently I still don’t seem like an adult and I obviously still don’t know what I’m doing with my life. Some things never change. When I couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer Cri and Laura filled in for me saying I wanted to be married when I got big. This also made me laugh but wasn’t as surprising to hear. Laura asks me almost daily who I will marry. Often she’ll point to the closest man, aside from Edward or her Dad (because they are married. Also Troy from High School Musical is off limits because Gabriella has dibs) and ask if I want to marry him. So after they decided my life goal was to be married, they then realized they’d forgotten to toss having babies on the list. Which of course led each of them to realize their own life’s goal of being the nannies for my babies. Let me be clear: I. Would. LOVE. That. Never mind that first and foremost I’ll never have nannies for my children, next don’t worry about how I’d use my children for a little bit of my own childish, petty payback. Not seriously, but I could definitely have fun with it.

Today was an even more entertaining and interesting conversation. Be forewarned, it verges on the birds and the bees but I was able to skirt around it enough not to have to be the one to explain all of that to them. Thank goodness. I can’t remember exactly how it came up, probably, like most of our hysterical conversations, out of nowhere. Laura asked if I was going to let my boyfriend see my, “uh, how do you say these?” and cupped her chest. After I regained my composure, I told her no, probably not, just my husband. Then she asked about even my other unmentionables and I said yes those too. At this point Cristina was interested and asked what I would do if my husband joked about wanting to kill me. I told her those weren’t nice kinds of jokes so I really wouldn’t like it. Then she decided him joking about a bird pooping on my head would be nicer. Also, in there were several questions about his hypothetical appearance including if he were bald. I told her if he were very nice and very funny and loved me very much I would marry him quickly. Laura asked if I’d love him and kiss him on the mouth and I told her yes, all day long to which she smiled. I think it made her happy because she really seems set on being my nanny.

Then Cri asked what I would do if my husband didn’t want to be my husband anymore. I told her I would cry. She gave me a big hug then she asked if after I cried I’d come back to them. I figured if my life came to that I’d be full of irrational, impulsive decisions so it wouldn’t be out of the question for me to return to them, so I said yes, I’d come back. 

I’m pretty sure they’re now rooting for my future marriage to fail.

Ave Maria and New Sober Friends

So the first Holy communion is a big deal here. I went to two this past week, eh, one and a half. The kids' cousin, Tommaso, had his on Tuesday. We didn't go to the actual communion part, just the luncheon afterwards. I felt a little guilty like we took the doughnuts without going to Bible class. You know the feeling I'm talking about. So Tommaso's family lives in southern Rome in a less residential/more secluded area. I loved it, Alessia said it was too country for her taste which made me laugh because she was obviously ill at ease there. Aside from following a group of eight rowdy children around and being demoted to the kids table after a life's work of moving on from there, it was a nice day.
Saturday was Leo's communion. Let me start by telling you he got a trampoline from his parents and a 3D tv from his grandma. A new Nintendo DS from a friend and cuff links with diamonds from his uncle. Anyway, luckily the service was in English so that helped. Also, it didn't hurt that the priest sounded like Peter Griffin from Family Guy so I kept myself entertained with that. And trying to stay awake because I was out and up late the night before (more on that story later). I ended up sitting by myself because Nonna Keka and I went to the bar for a coffee right before it started so when we got inside the church most of the seats were taken. All the little girls were wearing big white dresses and had flowers wreaths in their hair. Two of them were wearing veils so they looked like mini brides which I did not appreciate. All the boys were in jackets and ties. They looked so nice and they sang and read from note cards. The priest gave a sermon and then they took communion. It sounds brief but it took such a long time that I no longer felt guilty about skipping out on Tommy's service earlier in the week.
Afterward we made a stop near Vatican City to pick up the priest who performed Marco and Alessia's wedding. That made the tenth person we put in the seven seat Mercedes SUV. The priest was nice, he smiled and made pleasant small talk with Alessia while Leo and Laura threatened to kill each other in the backseat. Lunch was delicious then I spent the next seven hours yelling at random children who also didn't listen to me, trying to enforce Alessia's strict, over-protective rules regarding trampoline usage. And I think I now fully understand why my parents never let my brothers and I have one.

On a brighter note, I have friends my own age!! Have I mentioned I have an adopted Italian aunt and uncle here? Cinzia and Salvatore. And they are so wonderful and sweet to me. I get to have lunch with them about once a week. Cinzia is a guide and does work with QueensLander Tours which is how I met her, via my mom. And Salvatore is a dentist. But, Cinzia has been trying to put me in contact with her nephew, Francesco, for months since he is my age and speaks English. So he finally called and invited me to hang out with him and his friends last Saturday and it was so wonderful to be with people my own age! It's also kind of bizarre to me to be young, hanging out with friends, doing normal things that I would do with my friends from home but being in this ancient city surrounded by all these historical places.

The first time we hung out he came to pick me on his bike but then thought I might not feel safe so he called his friend Keyvan to come with his slower, bigger moped. So I rode through Rome on the back of an Italian boy's moped. I couldn't get over the cheesy cliche movie-ness of it all! We went to an art fair downtown and then met a couple of their other friends for gelato. The second time we hung out it went like this. Friday night I had gotten off work and was so tired I was headed for a nice long relaxing shower. Mid-shower I heard my phone ringing. Weird. Then someone called a second time. Since it was late and I don't know anyone here I figured it had to be some kind of emergency or something was wrong. So I made a big watery mess getting to my phone only to see it was Francesco. "Hello? Well no I'm not doing anything. Sure I'd love to hang out. Ten minutes? Perfect." I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've gotten ready that fast. Now normally I'd be pretty hesitant to leave my house at 11:30 pm in a car full of Italian boys I don't really know but after four months of friend drought that's exactly what I did. We went to a trendy area near Piazza Navona to hang out in the street. That's literally all we did. But it wasn't weird because there were SO MANY other people there. I guess it's the equivalent of everyone at Harding going to Sonic to hang out. Everyone was there just to socialize. I met a lot of Francesco and Keyvan's other friends and Francesco's girlfriend. She was really nice, she wants to make me dinner and take me out for Tiramisu. Yes please.
Not many of their friends spoke English which is good since I need to work on my Italian. There was one guy who spoke English and was really nice. Also, he was really surprised I didn't want a drink at all since most Americans he has met usually over drink. Awesome America. But it was nice. There were a couple girls in our group who had too much to drink but everyone else was kind of annoyed by it. I went to Harding (and not like you couldn't find drinking there, it's just not out in the open or considered acceptable) so I don't have much experience but I do know that for my age, it's popular American culture to go bar hopping and perfectly normal to get smashed. So it's nice to know I don't have to worry about making excuses for why I can't go out because I don't want to do heavy drinking, because it's just not what this group does.

God is faithful and I'm so thankful he's provided me with such nice friends, young and old, long-time and recent. Don't worry, I still miss all of you and you're not being replaced :)

Wellll I never said I'd post consistently

The past month has passed so quickly! I've been learning Italian at a snail's pace, getting lost less often, mistaken for a European more often (which kind of makes me feel good in a way), and enjoying my job more. Well 3/4 of them. Also, I got my nose pierced by a man with shakey hands. Apparently I thought it was so much fun I let it close up so I could visit again. We're good friends now, I can't think of anyone else I've let put their fingers in my nose. Twice.

I went home to the states for a week to be in David and Amanda's wedding, it was so beautiful and fun and perfect for them. I was also able to visit with family and friends. It was so wonderful! And my nephew, Camden is so stinking adorable I can't even handle it. After getting to be social and surrounded by people I loved (not to mention a very self-sufficient child, 4 years younger than the ones I nanny) for a week straight it was a little difficult to come back here. But I've been back a week and a half and glad to be settled into my routine. It helped to remind myself even if I was living in the states I wouldn't be living with all my friends anymore anyway. But I did compile a quick list of things I missed/miss about America and enjoyed while I was home:
-walking fast
-free water
-eavesdropping
-pedestrian right of way
-Bobby's (turned Maddie's Cafe in Searcy)

I got back and went directly to Cesano. When I bought my return ticket I thought it'd be fine to get back at 8:30AM since I wouldn't have the kids until later that afternoon. Too bad I bought it before I knew they'd be out of school for ten days due to Easter. They'd been in Cesano all week but I joined them for Thursday-Tuesday. God bless her, Alessia let me sleep the first two mornings I was back. Easter wasn't as big a deal as I thought it would be with them. No going to mass or anything. They got the traditional giant chocolate eggs (with a toy inside) at breakfast that morning. Leo's was broken before he opened it so there was big drama there. Never mind that Jesus is risen, the poor kid's chocolate was broken. Don't worry, he got a whole new one later.

I did get to drive finally! Just to the market and back and I haven't driven actually in Rome yet. I drove one of the smart cars which was weird because it can be automatic or standard but there is no clutch so I drove it in automatic but it kept feeling like it was about to die like a standard if you don't push the gas enough as you let off the clutch. And since Alessia comes with us (and drives) everywhere I don't know why she wanted me to be able to drive. I know what you're thinking, but no, they already have a chauffeur, remember?

Today I got to spend the day with Brook Kimrey while she was in town on free travel at the end of her HUF semester. It was fun and we had great conversation about reflecting on your past and looking to your future and always trusting God. It's always crazy to me to think about where I was and what I was doing a year ago and how I had no idea where I'd be or what I'd be doing today. Basically, God is faithful in all things. Incase you didn't know.

Lastly, Alessia told me she had a good photo of me with the children at the park. This is what she sent me:

I guess we just have different standards for good photos.

ps. mine are the 3 that match and the one in the blue sweater. plus the dog.

Florence and Stereotypes

It was so absolutely wonderful to visit Florence this past weekend! I LOVED getting to see friends and places I love with all my heart and even meet new friends. It was also very surreal. It felt perfectly normal to be there hanging out with Harding friends, even though it was a completely different group from mine three years ago. Either way, I was so happy the whole weekend I could hardly contain myself. There was lots of giggling. Apparently that’s what I do when I’m extremely happy these days.

I got to worship with the church in Florence, go to a classical concert with the HUF group. And obviously I got a cappuccino from Café Mario. I wandered around Florence and Scandicci for a long time. I was a little disoriented after being away for three years. Plus they changed the transit system since I was last there. The end of the bus line wasn’t where I left it so I had to find where they put it in addition to figuring out the new tram system. But I loved just being there. And I didn’t even mind the blisters I got from all the wandering. I also visited the Villa for a devo in the dungeon (this group’s first of the semester) followed by pizza and ice cream. It was classic Sunday night at the Villa and I was beaming the whole time.

So you know those ridiculous movies where boy meets girl, they spend one day together and then are madly in love for all time? That kind of happened to me on the train home. One sided. An Italian guy sat across from me for the 3.5-hour train ride from Florence to Rome. After almost an hour of both sleeping we woke up so the conductor could check out tickets. The typical traveler’s small talk started via a mix of broken English and very very broken Italian. He was 25, from Florence, just visiting Rome for a few days. Eager to make friends we exchanged numbers with discussion of exploring city center sometime this week. Seemingly cool, seemingly normal. Then it got weird.

I guess because he has three sisters he thought it would be ok to braid a strand of my hair. He must not of realized I, like most Americans, have personal space requirements and this was clearly an uninvited breach of those. From there the compliments started. He liked my eyes, and my laugh (I was laughing because I was shocked and dumbfounded by the ridiculouslessness of the situation but unfortunately I think he interpreted it as flirting). Then my blonde hair made me as beautiful as the sun. And lastly he said he liked my lips because they looked soft. All of this went on for about an hour and a half.

Willing with all my might for the last hour to be over, it didn’t happen so quickly. He couldn’t understand why I kept denying his requests for “just one kiss,” and my response of not knowing him didn’t seem to be logical as it was a very minor detail to him. “Piano, piano” meaning slowly, slowly we’d get to know each other. When I further denied his request for me to move to Florence (don’t worry, he offered to get me a job at the restaurant he works at), he offered to come to Rome. With laughter I said, “yeah, maybe” to which he replied, “no maybe, yes!” Luckily, when we finally got to the train station he was meeting a friend and I had to get home for work. I don’t really feel guilty to say that three ignored phone calls and two non-replied to texts later, I think the almost unbelievably stereotypical Italian guy and I are through.

Note to self: EXTREME caution and stinginess with passing out that phone number. And probably establish a cap for the small talk.

I Am Spitting Angry

Well. I’m sitting at Roma Termini fuming because I just missed my train by mere minutes, the next one isn’t for two hours and it’s everybody’s fault but mine. That last part couldn’t actually be further from the truth but whatever. I would have made it, just barely, except that the public transit security pulled me off my bus because I was riding without a ticket. Sorry Mom, I was in a hurry. The fine is typically 50 Euros but I only had 35 on me, which I gave them, they returned 5, probably pocketed the rest and then gave me a valid ticket to get on the next bus. Confusing but I’m not one to question a lesser punishment.

Going back nearly three weeks. The last week in the mountains was really great and very relaxing. Then for the trip home I got bumped from the train to the car for 8 hours with the dogs, luggage and Merci and Edward. I got the back seat and practically had to be packed in. I had enough room to sit. If I tilted my head ever so slightly to the left I could use one of the huge duffle bags as a pillow. Which I did. When I got home my mom was waiting at my front gate! We had such a wonderful time touristing around and I really enjoyed meeting her local work contacts.

One morning we went on a walking tour called Eating Italy. It was so fun! And delicious. On the tour we met an American girl named Katy who was close to my age. We hit it off pretty well and she was alone so we invited her to explore a little with us at the end of the tour. I had told her all about my job and my slightly pathetic, utterly helpless, little lambs. While admiring some impressive ancient ruins she said, “You should tell your kids if their ancestors could build all of this without modern technology, they should be able to manage lifting the fork from their plates to their mouths.” I’ll probably never see her or hear from her again but we will be forever friends because of that comment J

During that time I also got to, very very briefly, see the Harding group (studying in Florence) since they were on their Rome fieldtrip. It was a very busy three days and probably the most outside of work social I’ve been since arriving here. My mom left on a Wednesday and I spent the rest of the week recovering from the late nights she kept me out. Reversal of roles to the fullest.

Since then time has flown by. Cesano (the country house) last weekend. Florence to visit the Harding group this weekend! Cesano next weekend. I don’t know what the weekend after that but then I AM COMING HOME! Just for a week but I think that’s part of what makes it so exciting. Not to mention the kids get a week off for Easter and I happen to be missing 3.5 of their days off and them being home all day. Whoops. That really was unintentional but I can’t say I hate it!

Settimana Bianca

So every year around this time all the schools in Rome (and maybe Italy, I’m not sure) get one week off from school. It’s called ‘Settimana Bianca’ or the ‘White Week’ apparently named so because everyone goes to the mountains. My family, of course, took an extra week, so one week down, one week to go on this unbelievable winter break.

We’re in Cortina d’ Ampezzo, which is famed for holding the Olympics in the 50s, being the set of a stunt scene in For Your Eyes Only and is known as the play place for Europe’s jet-setting, filthy rich. In keeping with the “mind-blown by this lifestyle” theme, I’d say that sounds about right.

Schedule-wise, it’s much like being at home since the kids are gone with their ski instructor from morning to mid-afternoon. So during that time I keep myself entertained with of course the scenery, window shopping (since I definitely can’t afford anything at any of the stores here and am not much of a shopper anyway, so that’s fine), reading some random books I found in my room that happen to be in English (I’ve discovered Danielle Steel books are silly and unrealistic but entertaining nonetheless), and multiple trips to the post office. And if you know me at all, more than my fair share of naps. I think if I want to ski I have to pay for it, which isn’t possible so there’s that.

The girls are tired of skiing already. First world problems? They complain every morning but then seem to have had a good time when they get back. Coming into these two weeks I was worried I’d loose it but they’ve been decent and we’ve had lots of fun. They’ve discovered my iPhoto files so we’ve spent lots of time looking at all my pictures and videos of friends, family and adventures. It makes us all happy but me a little heart sick as well. Worth it to keep them quiet and entertained. So far their favorite is a video Amanda and Mary Beth made one time when they brought Kobe, Amanda’s dog into the dorm. It’s hilarious and Amanda, I don’t even mind the puppy talk J

The condo is actually pretty modest. I think it’s a time-share, which would mean my family can’t decorate or furnish so I’m sure that has something to do with it. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms with a kitchen, dinning room and den. It looks stuck in the seventies complete with green, shag rug and orange bedspreads. I was surprised and very grateful to get my own room and don’t at all mind sharing a bathroom with Edward and Merci. But thank goodness for locks or I would have been walked in on somewhere near seven times by now.

The first week Nona Kicca was here. Nona means grandma and she’s Alessia’s mom. I LOVED her. She was so spunky and kind and definitely did not put up with as much wild outrageousness from all four of the kids. Marco got here Saturday night and besides the addition of cigar smoke (I happen to kind of enjoy it, for reasons I’ll keep to myself in this public forum) there hasn’t been much change to our routine or dynamic here. I don’t know how long he’s staying but Alessia said she’d be mad if he didn’t stay at least 2-3 days. Tomorrow Nona Laura, Marco’s mom, arrives tomorrow with Luca, Marco’s older and mentally handicapped brother. Both will stay until we all return to Rome on Saturday.

Lastly, I’d like to thank everyone for your comments! I really do appreciate and enjoy them. It helps me to feel a little less like I’m talking to myself (a habit that has unfortunately increased since I live mostly by myself J).

No Italiano

I have this problem where I always make eye contact with people in the street. In LA I accidentally made a lot of homeless friends. Here I've accidentally made friends with the Indian man near my post office, he sells cigarettes, umbrellas, etc to the people in the cars stopped at his traffic light. Also my neighbors, the guards at the gate to the Iraqi embassy. Robert, the Italian security guard at the US embassy. He said I only need to come there if I have emergencies or legal problems but I should feel free to come visit him anytime. And lastly, a waiter at a restaurant near the Pantheon. I was walking by last night and he stopped me to ask if my name was Jenny. He took my pause as an opportunity to greet me with the traditional kisses. Sly guy. It's just not in my nature to stare at the ground looking angry (as I was once advised to do in order to avoid making all my friends) so I guess I'll just make friends and claim "No Italiano" when it gets too awkward.

Speaking of, "No Italiano" are probably the Italian words I've learned best so far. I made it to a church this past Sunday. Finally! To my pleasant surprise there was a lady, Tonia, who speaks English very well and sat next to me to translate. Come to find out, she and her husband, Vittorio, have a daughter at Harding and they spent the spring 2011 semester there. (I even attended some meeting they held about participating in Avanti Italia. To be honest I heard there was going to be authentic tiramisu. There was and it was fantastic. So needless to say, I didn't exactly remember Tonia but luckily she didn't remember me either. But that tiramisu...) 

So since Tonia knows English so well she volunteered to give me Italian lessons! I had my first one Monday. It's going to be slow since we're only meeting on Mondays and I'll be out of town for the next two. Not to mention she's not a real teacher so she doesn't have a curriculum or anything. Our first lesson was mostly the alphabet and me asking her words or phrases I've heard frequently. I think I'm going to start bringing some of the kids books and maybe we'll work with those as our textbooks :) In addition, I might have to enroll in an Italian course at one of the local colleges for visa purposes. So in a way I'll be eating my words from all those times I said, "I will never have to go to class again!" Dad, you called it.

I spent one afternoon wandering (lost) and stumbled upon a kebab place. Similar to a Greek gyro, wonderful and delicious and CHEAP and our HUF group loved them when we came to Rome three years ago. But I forgot how difficult they are to eat. It's in kind of a pita pocket but they fill it past its capacity so...difficult. I'm glad I was by myself while simultaneously feeling sorry for the other people in the shop. 12 (I counted) tiny, non-absorbent napkins later, I finished. It was so good I didn't even care how disgusting I probably looked eating it. You're welcome for the mental picture.

And the snow. Last Friday Rome got a few inches of snow. The kids didn't have school Friday, Monday or Tuesday. Tons of places were closed, everybody put chains on their tires, buses and trains didn't run, our internet went out for a little bit, TONS of tree limbs fell. On my street one tree even tipped over, roots and all, it just tipped over. Our street kind  of looks like a war-zone from all the broken glass, crumbling walls, smashed cars and downed limbs. I have never seen any place so unprepared for snowy weather. Even the trees were unprepared! I mean the US south doesn't really know what to do either but at least they still function. This was crazy. Every time I went out I just laughed. Literally. I would walk down the street in shock and disbelief, laughing.

Which also reminds me that I got my first gelato this time around. I made a special trip to Giolitti's (famous) near the Pantheon. I got a small cup for 2.50 euros with a scoop of cannella, niccola, and cioccolata (my go-to choices of hazelnut and chocolate with a special treat of cinnamon because Giolitti's has the best) with whipped cream on top. I told Jenny that everyone I passed on the street probably thought I was making love eyes at them because I couldn't stop smiling and it's possible I was giggling a little. I can't help it. I love ice cream.

Land of the Rich and Italian

Saturday afternoon I took a break from the country house to go to the most important/the nicest (I'm not sure which or if it's both, but each was used to describe it to me.) hotel in Rome. We were in a lovely ballroom, with a girl wearing white, a 3 or 4 layer tiered cake, everyone dressed up, live entertainment, catered food complete with wait staff and I'm fairly certain there was an open bar. You might have guessed I attended a wedding reception. Wrong. Just a small child's birthday party taking place in the Land of the Rich and Italian. I'm almost positive my jaw was dropped the majority of the time. I almost constantly feel like I'm having an out of body experience, living someone else's life! It's just so very different from the life I'm used to but perfectly normal for everyone I'm around. Bizarre.

So the party. Granted the food was mostly chicken nuggets, mini pizzas and popcorn but there was adult food too. It was all very good. Don't worry, I know, I sampled some of everything. And the entertainment! It was this weird mini circus thing with a couple of clowns, magician, ring master, scantily clad girls, a tiger-man and maybe a bouncer? I don't know what his purpose was but he was big and walked around the whole time. Let's call him a good behavior enforcer. It was all in Italian but I gathered that one of the clowns hold a Guinness world record. He then proceed to blow up a balloon/kickball looking bubble until it was huge. Then he put it over his head which was comical. Until he got all the way inside it and then popped out just his head. So a tiny head on top of this huge dancing, yellow, balloon/ball/bubble. I did not like it. Maybe here I should also mention I was scared of clowns as a kid. Who wasn't? It was just the three girls and I. They stuck pretty close to me except while I was going back and forth to the food table to bring them plate after plate of chicken nuggets. Besides that they entertained themselves by punching the tiger-man in the stomach or the back. I wonder if he hates his job. Maybe he really really really loves children. Also, his costume had tiger stripes but his gloves were leopard spots. What kind of cat is that?

Lord, beer me strength

These children are terrible. That's not true. They just have listening/respect/obeying problems. X 4. Individually I like each of them. Cris (cristina) is by far my favorite and I have no problem saying so. Vitti (Vittoria) is who I consider the baby, even though they're all the same age. Leo is the most sensitive (not in a positive way) even though he's the boy. and Lala (laura) eh, I could probably take her or leave her and be fine either way.

None of them ever listen so I've taken up whistling (like for a dog) or turning their games/tv/ipads (that's right) off to get their attention if they don't respond after the second time I call them. If that doesn't work I flick them in the forehead. Since physical abuse is out, I've settled on inflicting tiny amounts of pain. They kind of think it's funny (especially when I do it to one of their siblings) but then they know I'm serious.

The other problem is that there has never been any consistent discipline. Example: Vitti is the worst about eating. She always fusses and refuses. Friday night we had spinach and she was refusing to eat it. I told her if she acted like a baby I was going to treat her like one so I fed it to her (which actually wasn't a big deal because their mom spoon feeds them all the time. Ridiculous) So after she'd been chewing a huge disgusting bite of spinach for a long time she spit it back on her plate. I fed it to her again anyway. Sunday night she did the same thing with her meat but we were eating with her parents (they usually eat later because Marco gets home from work so late.) so I didn't really feel like the authority in that situation. Needless to say I think I just added to the inconsistency.

The country house was huge, of course, but not what I expected. Marco is part of a horse racing team (except I don't think they race, it's all jumping, but the whole family kept calling it racing) so their house is in some kind of compound with other houses, stables, practice rings, etc. The horse riding they do is not for pleasure, it's for sport. I'm not as cool as I thought I was seeing as I never got to ride this weekend. The kids had riding lessons, but we didn't take the horses out just to ride. Not as much fun in my opinion.

In other news. My english might be getting worse and I've developed a bad Italian accent. If anyone ever tells you that you can't decorate your apartment with 36 4x6 photos, fishing line, mini clothes pins and plastic wrap, they are wrong. And Bagno means bodywash. Not shampoo...

Prima

I don't journal and I'm bad about taking pictures. But sometimes there are occasions when both are not only acceptable but necessary. After multiple friends (shout out Tessa Knight)/family members asked if I'd be keeping a blog while I spend this year in Rome I decided it probably wouldn't hurt. And let's be honest, I'm copying and pasting  very similar (if not the exact same) emails/messages anyway. Whoops.

So here is my blog to keep all of you who care up to speed on my life while I'm gone. No promises on how frequent the posts will be but I'll do my best. And pictures will come when I'm ready so relax.

Initial information you should learn so future stories will make sense:

I'm spending the year as an au pair for a family in Rome, about a 20 minutes drive north of Vatican City.
The family consists of Marco (dad), Alessia (mom), Leonardo (7 yr. old boy), Laura, Cristina and Vittoria (6 yr. old triplet girls), Gina & Vito (old, ugly, somewhat mean dachshunds), a hamster (already bit me so I'm not learning its name), a turtle, a rabbit and four goldfish.
And then there's the live-in help:
Me- nanny
Edward(35ish)- Housekeeper/Driver/Butler extraordinaire
Mercy(30ish)- Edward's wife/Housekeeper/Cook/Maid/Children's personal gopher
Marlo(25)- Marco's driver/anything else he is asked to do or help with
(all three are Filipino)
And lastly, Melissa (26ish), the Australian non-live-in nanny/English teacher

So memorize this information while I go out to the country house for the weekend and I'm sure I'll have good stories for you when I get home.