The Lasts

3 years in Italy.

The lasts

It’s been yet another year since we blogged.  Looking back on it, it seems like it’s gone by pretty fast and this year stands to be no different.  We’re now entering “the lasts”.  We’re starting to think about the last time we’ll go to certain restaurants or take a walk through the little town by our house.  The other day, I was thinking about how this month will be the last time I register the cars and pay Italian road tax on them.  It’s a good feeling.  We’re really starting to miss being away from the familiarity and normalcy of home.  Home as in the United States since we don’t really know where we’ll end up yet. 

Rylan is growing up and his personality is developing faster than I can keep up with.  Right now he’s really involved with karate and T-ball.  I find t-ball particularly interesting because of the way he holds himself during the games.  He pretty much just stands there in the field goofing off and is way more interested hitting the ball than fielding.  It reminds me quite a bit of myself when I played little league.

My shifts flip-flop quite a bit and sometimes I go 3 to 4 weeks without spending a significant amount of time with Rylan.  However, when I do, I notice something new about him that I hadn’t noticed before.  I hope that wherever we go next will be a bit steadier so that I can watch him grow a little more closely. 

Rylan is now a completely fluent Italian speaker.  He's now able to recognize that Italian and English are 2 different languages and that two words can mean the same thing to 2 different people who speak different languages.  At restaurants he is able to converse with wait staff entirely in Italian without shyness.  I'm envious of this gift he's gotten so early in life.  However, I'm also a bit saddened by the fact he will likely loose his ability to speak Italian as he transitions into fully English kindergarten next school year.  We continually discuss ways we can keep him fluent but it seems unlikely without constant exposure to someone who speaks Italian.  

Heather has continually had her hands full.  I’m amazed every day at her ability to put up with me and work, running Rylan around to karate and T-ball all while keeping up with meals and the housework.  It wears me out sometimes just watching.

So what’s next for us?  The next year will be devoted to the last few visitors we’ll have while in Italy and getting ourselves financially ready for the next big move.  We anticipate the move back to the States will be easier than it was coming here considering all we really have to do is leave here rather than worrying about a bunch of stuff we have to sell after we’re gone.

Our time here in Italy has been, well, an experience.  For that, I’ll give some credit.  There are good things and bad things.  Ironically, the same things I love about Italy are the same things I hate.  I love the loose traffic laws but hate the dangerous way most people drive.  Love the slow, unpredictable nature of everything but hate it when I really have to get something done like get car parts or have something fixed.  While I envy many aspects of Italian society, but those same aspects tend to slowly grind you down.    

By the time we leave here, we will have lived in Italy for 4 years.  One thing is for sure, it’s just not home.  Every time Rylan mentions spending time with cousins or grandparents, it just drives a stake in our hearts and reminds of what’s waiting for us at home.  

We'll add one more blog short before we leave here before officially closing our Hasta La Pasta blog and move on to the next chapter of our life.  

2 years in Italy

We've been in Italy for 2 years now.  When I logged on to write this blog, I was surprised to see that it had almost been an entire year since I've posted anything.  That's when I realized that time is flying by faster than I'm aware.

This year we travel.  Heather and I decided quite some time ago that we would use our 3rd year to see the sites here in Europe.  It was the best time for us financially since, now, we're finally able to build up some savings and can finally anticipate what kind of budget we can utilize.  Also, we feel we have somewhat figured out the protocol for traveling in Europe.  

We kicked off our travel tour with a trip to the south of Italy.  The trip was arranged by a travel office on the base that specializes in organizing tourist trips.  Our itinerary put us on the bus from the Air Force base at 10 PM with an all night bus ride to Naples, Italy.  The all night bus ride was particularly daunting considering we took Rylan with us.  Heather and I were seriously apprehensive about this portion of the trip.  Since Rylan has little emotional control right now, we were concerned that he would; A. Not sleep at all on the bus.  B.  Get cranky, throw a fit all night, and keep us and the rest of the bus awake all night.  C.  Be a complete nightmare to deal with the next day as aftermath from not sleeping.  Once on the bus, Rylan curiously and quietly looked out the window and drifted off to sleep about an hour after embarking on the trip.  We were so relieved.  I was surprised that my lack of sleep on the bus ride had little to do with my 4 year old son and more to do with the reclined seat in front of me that was jammed against my knees.

9 AM and we were pulling into downtown Naples, Italy.  The streets were full of piled up garbage bags.  My first impression of Naples was not a good one.  It seemed like a place with little regard for aesthetics or simple basic sanitation.  There was extensive never ending construction that cluttered up the Naples skyline.  Once we were close to our first stop, our tour guide started giving us instructions on where to be and at what time.  Then she said something interesting.  In her not so good english,she told us to keep track of our purses because Naples was not a nice place.  After we all had worried chuckles, she clarified that Naples was beautiful but some of the people weren't nice.  I took this as Naples was full of criminal activity, which I had already known from news reports and state department reports.

The bus dropped us off at the marine port,  which put us within walking distance to the downtown area.  There wasn't anything significant about Naples that I noticed except for one thing.  For every 10 people walking the streets, there was at least 1 police officer.  It was an indication that crime was so rampant that the community of Naples were making a concerted effort to clean it up and make it safer for locals and tourists alike.  We wondered around for about 2 hours, had some coffee (the first "to go" coffee I'd seen in Italy thus far"), took some pictures, and enjoyed the simple, easy goingness we've come to know in Italy.

After our time was up in Naples we proceeded to the ship port.  I had no idea what we were doing and what mode of travel we were taking to our next destination.  However, this was part of the joy of having the trip planned for us.  We just had to show up at the right place at the right time and everything else was taken care of for us.  At the port, we boarded what looked to be a large yacht that had been converted to a ferry.  The boat was pretty fast and held about 150 passengers.  The boat was small enough that we felt most of the waves it pounded through.  Thankfully Rylan didn't get sick but a few others in our group did.  After about 45 minutes on the boat we landed at the Island of Capri.

Capri looked like a large rock that had been thrust up from the middle of the sea.  Most of the Island was full jagged cliffs and any strip of land that didn't have foliage on it, had a house on it.  Sometimes the houses were built right into the rock face itself.  When we got off the boat, we went immediately to what our tour guide called a Fanacular.  In simple terms, it was basically a trolley.  However, the one extraordinary thing about this trolley is that it ferried people to the top of the mountain island in a straight line.  It made no zig zags to lessen grade.  Straight up, and straight down at what was probably more than a 45 degree angle based on how the seats were placed so that you'd sit horizontal during the ride.  It appeared to be pulled up, and let down by a large cable but was stabilized by the tracks it operated on.  Once we reached the top, we were met with a breath taking view.  The thrusted rock was surrounded by deep blue sea as far as you could see.  Our group was quickly herded off to a restaurant for a quick lunch.

After lunch, we proceeded down the mountain on foot.  Our descent took us past many shops, most of which were for tourists.  Translation; nothing authentic and most of it way overpriced.  Once we reached the bottom, our goal was to visit the popular blue grotto.  We hopped on a small boat which took us about a quarter of the way around the island to a small hole in the rock partially obscured by the sea level.  Close to the opening was a floating barge and several really small dingy type row boats.  We agreed to pay the fee go to into the cave and we piled into the small dingy.  The dingy boat guy rowed us into the hole in the rock face and we were in the blue grotto.  Simply put, it was a dark cave with blue water illuminated by sunlight showing through a wider opening below the entrance hole.  Our boat guy rowed us around in there for a few minutes and even sang us a romantic Italian tune.  Of course it felt a little weird with our 4 year old present.  After the blue grotto we landed back at the main boat dock and lounged around until it was time for our group to leave.

From Capri, we caught another passenger yacht ferry to Sorrento where our hotel was.  Once we landed in Sorrento, the walk to our hotel took us up about a half mile worth of stairs.  The boat landing sat at the bottom of a rock face and the only way up to the town itself was either to pay money for a taxi/bus or walk. We all chose to walk.  Once we hit the hotel, we were pretty much exhausted.  The hotel was adequate and you could tell by the severely outdated elevator and 6 inch tube television that the place was really only meant for sleeping.  However, we were treated to a pretty nice dinner the first night which consisted of a first course of fresh pasta and a main course of  pork.  The pasta was the best I've ever had to date.  The pork; meh, it was ok.  Shortly after dinner we scampered off to bed for some much needed sleep.

The next morning we hopped on the bus and headed out to Positano, which is another coastal community apparently known for shopping.  We didn't spend a lot of time here.  One notable thing about Positano is how they managed to build houses right into the mountain.  It literally looked like a mountain of houses if you can imagine that.  Still the scenery was stunning.  After a few hours in Positano, we took yet another ferry to the town of Amalfi.  This ferry felt more like what you'd imagine a ferry to be except with one difference.  The upper deck was completely uncovered so you could enjoy the scenery as you traveled to your next destination.

Holy lemons!  That's mostly what I can say about Amalfi.  The lemons they grow here are the size of grapefruits and they're everywhere.  It's a staple of the diet there apparently and the volcanic soil makes them grow freakishly large.  Because of this, they've mastered the use of lemons.  We bought some lemon Italian ice made from these lemons from a street vendor.  It was expensive but well worth it.  It was such a departure from what I've been used to.  It seems like most everything in the States is artificially lemon flavored.  But this, this was real lemons!  Man it was good!  We walked around Amalfi, bought some lemoncello (lemon liquor, 30% alcohol), and then headed back to the boat dock for another ferry ride.

We boarded the boat to Salerno and within a few minutes, Rylan was zonked out on my lap.  He'd been such a trooper and had tolerated our touring well.  So well, in fact, that I don't remember any complaints from him.  I'm sure there were some but I just don't remember them so it was a good day.  Once in Salerno we were met by our buses which took us back to Sorrento for the night.

The final leg of our trip commenced the next morning.  We checked out of the hotel and piled back into the buses for a short trip to Pompeii, which was on my "Italy must see" list.  Pompeii, as you're probably already aware, was a bustling roman city struck down and buried deep by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD.  As our bus inched closer to Pompeii, I noticed that there were droves and droves of population.  More than there once was in Pompeii before the fatal eruption.  So when we arrived at Pompeii, I couldn't help but ask myself why people still live in the area that was once decimated by a still very active volcano.

We entered through the Pompeii city wall.  Once inside, we could see the remnants of ancient roman city pillars and streets.  For the most part, you could see the gutted rooms of houses and businesses, which didn't really tell me anything.  As I was looking at the streets, I noticed something that made the city come to life.  Something that connected me more to what happened there.  The streets were constructed by several large stones placed together, kind of like extra large cobblestone.  Looking down the streets you could see paralleled ruts in the stone that were spaced about 4 to 5 feet apart.  The ruts were made by hundreds of years worth of chariots moving up and down the streets, day in and day out.  It wasn't like just looking at broken out stone walls or crumbling pillars.  It was a signature.  Those ruts said "I was here".  Truly amazing.

As we made our way past the umbrella like pine trees and through the exit, our trip was finally over.  Heather, Ry and I got a quick lunch then piled back on to the buses for a grueling 10 hour bus ride back to Aviano.  The trip back took us right through Bologna which had been struck by a 5.8 magnitude earthquake a week prior.  About 8 hours after we passed through, Bologna was struck again with a 5.0 magnitude earthquake. Did we dodge a bullet?  Who knows but I'm glad we weren't around to find out.  

Enjoying our Surroundings

The weather has cooled down a bit and Travis is finally getting to take weekends off so we've been enjoying our surroundings.  We live just below a mountainrange and have a georgeous view from our backyard, but we really like to be in the woods on top of the mountain.

Travis and I had a Rylan-sitter come for the day so we could go mountain biking.  We headed up to Pian Cavallo (the local ski resort) and started out on a trail that took us along the ridge of the mountain range. 

Here's Travis at the trailhead: (all smiles)

The view was amazing!

After about an hour of climbing on rocky roads (and me being laughed at by some Italians for pushing my bike up a section), we made it to the 'top'!!   This view was incredible! 

A little further down the trail we ran into a herd of sheep.  This actually isn't an unusual occurance around here, but it's always entertaining! 

Somehow we didn't take anymore pictures after the sheep encounter.   We enjoyed the rolling hills of the next section and then decended from the top into Mezzemonte on some very steep and curvy paved trails. Breaked in Mezzomonte for a cappauchino and took the road back home.   What a great ride!  

If you are wondering...  We took our other car and Rylan back up to the top of Pian Cavallo to pickup the car we dropped off.  Ry also got to play at the playground up there. All in all, everyone had a bit of fun on a really lovely day here in Italy. 

1 YEAR IN ITALY!

(Blog by Travis)
It's now July of 2011. We've survived over a year in Italy. It sure has gone by quickly.
I recently took a short 2 week trip back to the United States partially for business and partially to visit family. The excitement leading up to the trip was partially visiting family I hadn't seen in a while but also, to compare in my mind, how differently I perceived American culture after being completely immersed in Italian culture for a year. In true blog fashion, I'll share some of these thoughts.
1. I heard somewhere, probably in driving safety class or something, that you can tell a lot about someone by the way they drive. I find this to be true culturally as well. Italians are pretty selfish when they drive, which translates to about any other activity as well. They expect that everyone will move right out of the way for them. They don't stand in line for anything. If you give an inch, they'll be 20 more people standing in front of you. At first I was amazed, then after a while I was just annoyed. Most Americans extend a certain level of hospitality to just about anyone they meet. I was utterly shocked while I was home when some stranger I didn't know at all passed me while driving and gave me a wave. Generally, Italians ignore everyone around them until addressed first. To put it in perspective, Rylan and I were out riding our bikes this afternoon and passed another cyclist. The guy looked right past us. Didn't even acknowledge our existence as fellow particles of mass in front of him. Rylan said Caio as he passed and still not even a glance. This same scenario is something we continually encounter. I'm well aware that this is just how they are, but it still really wears on us.
2. My pallet will never be the same. Italians have mastered the art of using food in its natural state to add flavor to meals. When we eat out here, I frequently enjoy how simple food is, while at the same time, how good it tastes. Nothing is processed. While at home I ate out the majority of the time. It became quite clear to me that the measure of good food wasn't exactly the quality of it but the quantity of it when compared to price. A good example was a trip to a Mexican restaurant with my grandparents. I ordered a standard meal and when it came out, it was so big, it could have probably fed an entire Italian family here. All for under $12. Unbelievable! Here in Italy, a single meal, a quarter of the size mentioned above, will cost you about $20 with a drink. Oh, and the drink isn't a free refill either. They'll charge you each time you ask for another.
3. I'll never give up my truck but, several times while driving it at home, I thought to myself "is this thing really necessary?" Necessary or not it's almost paid for so I'm keeping it but hopefully you see my point. Italians are forced to live with less and do quite well. Cars are small here because fuel is twice as much as in the states. Parking is nearly impossible almost everywhere you go. Walking or riding a bicycle is still the preferred method of transportation if you're staying in town. We're definitely living with less here. It was a bit painful at first but we're making due. I've often compare it to listening to MP3's then moving somewhere where only 8 tracks were allowed.

So the million dollar question is this; thus far, do we like it enough to stay here longer than our scheduled tour? The answer is no. I always tell people that living here isn't like vacationing here. When the fantasy of being in Italy wears off, you're sort of left with the same feeling as if you were living anywhere else. You don't speak the language, you had to get rid of your 10 gallon washer and dryer to come here and everything is at least a third more expensive. Sure, we'll have stories to tell and we'll have the "I lived in Italy" badge to show off but trust me, America is better.

Bike. Market... Storm

Today my friend Beth and I headed up to Maniago to ride our bikes and visit their market. Maniago is an adorable little mountain town about 25 minutes from my house. We actually had looked at living there, but the drive to base is a bit longer than we wanted. Anyhow, this was my first trip there since driving through looking at houses.

Beth and I pack up our cars, bikes, trailors and kids. She has two kids - Ashlynn is Rylan's favorite little girl ever! We rode into the city center and started walking though the crowded market. We have noticed that when we ride with our baby trailors we seem to get a lot of attention - mostly smiles from passers-by. Today was no different. We got off of our bikes and pushed them though the busy market looking at everything from Mickey Mouse umbrellas to clothing to flowers. It seemed that everyone who passed us slowed down to look at one of all of the kids (espeically cutie Carson who is just 8mths old - Italians LOVE kids). We finally made it to a more open area of the market and found the most amazing curtain stand. Then we heard a huge thunder and noticed the very gray clouds coming over the mountain. The market became quite a scury to get packed up. I snapped a few pictures of the market and the curtains. I LOVE the red one with the 'nests' on it - but have no idea how to decorate a room around it... hmmmmm





Before it started to rain we let the kids stretch their legs at the fountain.





We headed back to our cars and the rain begain - lucky for the kids they were protected! We made it back to the cars just before the storm really hit.




While we didnt' get to ride on the local cycling path there we still had a good time and I'm looking forward to going back next Monday :)

Turning into Betty Jean

I've recently realized that I am turning into my maternal grandmother (Betty Jean Hoffman). While I obviously am looking more and more like my mom, I am acting more and more like grandmaw. Most of this transformation is of the Green nature. I hate to admit it, but in the States I never recycled much more than paper at work and old clothes. Numerous friends over the past decade have encouraged me to recycle, sadly I never took the time. Now that we are in Italy and recycling isn't exactly optional, I've decided to embrace it! This embracing has begun my transformation into Grandmaw.

My grandmother lives in a small house in Gastonia, NC. She recycles EVERYTHING. I don't believe she does this for the good of the earth, but just because it's what you are supposed to do. For years I didn't understand why I couldn't throw leftover food scrapes into the trashcan. (No garbage disposal.) I was disgusted that she scrapped leftover food from Sunday Lunch plates into a coffee container before handwashing them. (No, she doesnt' have a dishwasher.) However, I have now seen the light!

We have plastic, aluminum, cardboard and garbage pick up every week. There are also two bins placed throughout the neighborhoods for glass and organic waste. From the beginning I jumped at the fact of recycling the non-food items. I refused to use the organic waste containers. I ignorantly thought it was beyond disgusting. However, after realizing that we were the only people in our neighborhood that have 2 full trash cans on the street every week. I, out of American embarrassment, decided to make a change. Now, just like my grandmaw, scrape food off of plates and throw out any unused foods. My kitchen is furnished with an organic material bucket (just like my grandmaw's coffee can) and I walk it up the street every couple of days. My trash has been reduced by about 1/4 every week (I'm aiming at getting this down to 1/2) and my garbage doesn't smell like yucky food.

I must admit I smile every time I do it, because I can feel her presence in my Italian kitchen telling me I'm doing the right thing.

There are many other ways I would love to be more like my grandmaw - Her strong faith, her joy of laughing until someone pees their pants, her hard work, her patience and love with our family, her giving nature - but I'll start with scraping food and recycling.


Here are a few embaressing moments in my attempt to be Betty Jean.. haha

Our garbage cans (the yellow ones that hold about half of a regular city garbage can in the States). First of all we have 2 of them. Everyone else has 1. Not only do we fill up both of them, but we sometimes have an extra bag sitting beside the cans :( This not only is frowned upon, but can be fined up to 640euro.

Milk Containers. Our abundance of milk containers (soy milk and dairy) is rediculous. I have yet to figure out how to recycle them. Apparently they do not go with the cardboard containers, since the collector tossed all of them back into the bin before leaving.

Organic Waste: My first attempt at organic waste was a complete failure. Rylan and walked my bowl of leftover food up to the bin, quickly opened and dumped the food in. Once I heard the splat of the gross food, I immediately noticed that everyone else had put their food into a plastic bag. The bin doesn't smell or have flies arond it for this very reason. We walked back to the house hanging our head low, knowing that our nosey Italian neighbors probably watched the whole embaressing act.


My Little Green Organic Machine



The Line Up


The Distance to the glass and organics bin from our driveway


~ Heather

The BIG blog

SO we've been in Italy going on 2 months and WOW, what a journey it's been so far. I don't think Heather and I were quite prepared for the magnitude of changes we would have to endure once we got here but we're slowly easing into the facets of Italian life.

DRIVING
Some would say that Italians drive like maniacs, and I have to agree to some extent. Italian driving translates into a mixture of practicality and subtle disregard for traffic laws. For instance, if an Italian is driving and encounters a slower vehicle in front of him/her, the driver will simply pass the slower vehicle. Now, throw in a couple more variables like a solid line(no passing zone) or oncomming traffic. It doesn't really matter to Italians. They will pass no matter what. Americans that witness this kind of driving behavior call it the "ghost lane". There really isn't a lane when they attempt a pass but miraculously there's a lane once their commited to passing. I call it a well orchastrated game of chicken where someone always moves out of the way.

There are very few carbinieri, or police as we refer to them, out on the roads monitoring speed. Most speeding tickets are issued by electronic cameras that get your plate number in certain zones that are always marked. This leaves Italians with a few unspoken rules. 1. Drive as fast as you want, except around electronic velocity signs. 2. ALWAYS use your blinker. (Blinker discipline here amazes me considering the lack of regard for everything else) 3. Don't hit cyclists. Pedestrians are fair game.
Surviving the roads in Italy is a combination of EVERYONE paying attention. This is precisely why you'll never see an Italian nor I doing anything else but driving while behind the wheel.

THE GOOD SHIP LOLLIPOP
Speaking of carbinieri. You won't find them on the road too much, but on the side of the road mainly. They travel in two's. One will have a white stick with a red lite up circle on the end, resembling a lollipop. They other will have....an uzi. If they wave the "lollipop" at you, you're required to pull over. The scenerio is simple. You pull over or they shoot. Seems kind of harsh right? It is. Most people just take the easy route and pull over.
They can pull you over for no reason at all. They can also search your vehicle without probable cause. This doesn't bother the people that are following the rules.

FOOD
Oh yes, food. What a great place to be if you like to eat. Our expectation was that once we were here, we'd be so indulged by the amazing food here that we'd look like blimps within a year. However, we've found the opposite to be true. Italians take food very seriously. If you're the kind of person that likes to make a midnight run to jack in the box, then this is a place that will require some adjustment. Fast food in the american sense is almost non-existant. Even Italian fast food isn't so fast. They take a lot of pride in the food they cook and take their time doing it, regardless of where you go.
Dining is also considered a social event, to be enjoyed with family and friends. This means that almost every time Italians dine out, it's an all night event, lasting from about 8 to sometimes midnight. I'm working nights and I'm usually driving home at about midnight and I'm always amazed at the amount of people I see walking back from their favorite neighborhood ristorante.

DOMANI
Domani, means tomorrow or get to it when I get to it. This seems to be the theme of Italian culture. They're never in a big hurry to do anything except while driving. Our internet took 2 weeks to get hooked up. Our phone took almost 3 weeks. They don't work from noon to 3PM every day. They shut down during the month of August and go on holiday.

HOME SWEET HOME
In the States, you can walk around most neighborhoods and walk right up to someone's front door. I guess that's our cushion of space. However, here in Italy, every house has some kind of buffer zone. Usually a fence then a yard then the house. At the entrance gate at the fence there's a buzzer. A visitor has to ring the buzzer at the gate and ask to be invited. If you know them, then you remotely unlatch the gate from inside the house. To sum it up, in America, our front doors are literally the front door. In Italy, the front door is the gate at the fence line. In my opinion, italians are this way because theft is a real problem here. It's one more obstacle for a potential house burgler.

TAX
I believe theft is a problem because of the taxes here. Our landlord explained to me that the Italian government takes almost %50 of his profits in taxes. This results in most businesses being cash only, for the purpose of evading taxes. Can't say that I blame them.

CONCLUDE
We're learning more and more about this place every day. At the moment, because of the language barrier and cultural specific protocols, going out to do anything takes a reasonable amount of energy. Even simple things like going to the hardware store or going shopping for stuff for the house can be a sizable adventure. We're taking it one step at a time though. Most people say it takes about 6 months to be totally comfortable here and I think they're right.