The little nonna

January 12, 2021

“Kindness makes you the most beautiful person in the world no matter what you look like. ”

— Unknown

Tonight as I watch the colors of the sun set behind the trees I see the woman I now call in my head “my little nonna” Her black silhouette pops out onto the balcony and she places a piece of laundry to hang high above the world below. She clips it carefully and it begins to tossle back and forth in the evening breeze. She disappears inside only to slip back out, this time the broom is silhouetted across her body. She makes a few sweeps and completes her duties.

It is lovely to watch her and the black shadows remind me that it doesn’t matter what your color, your race, your ethnicity because in the night we are all the same.

I was reminded of how for many people in this world, they do not receive the comfort and kindness that should be bestowed. The opinion that the color of your skin represents who one is as a person continues to flabbergast me internally. It saddens me that many of my friends feel the snubs of the world based on such things as the color of their skin.

As I watched my little nonna tonight I thought how all of us are like dark shadows, silhouettes, who can be loved, who are valued and it doesn’t matter where we come from, what we look like, but only that we maintain a constancy in giving of kindness towards one another. It seems so simple, and yet for some, it is so complicated.

One step at a time and things will change. I look forward to continuing to being a part of the continued process in bringing a little bit of hope to others that change will happen thanks to God.

Goodnight to all of the nonna’s and nonno’s out there who are sweeping their balconies and hanging their laundry, you have no idea how you may be inspiring someone.

Buona notte from Italy

Lazy weekend afternoons

October 11, 2020

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched- they must be felt with the heart.”

— Helen Keller

Today the sun and heat has died down a bit and the breeze is coming in through the window as I write. My onions are caramelizing slowly in the kitchen and every now and then the smell of sweetness passes under my nose.

It’s a quiet day, with the hairdresser next door being closed. Typically talking echoes off the tile floor loud enough to penetrate my closed front door and filter in through my open window. There occasionally women stand outside with liquid color that has been painted onto their heads and plastic pink sheaths wrapped around their shoulders. They speak privately on the telephone, but with such emphasis that the conversation becomes not just between two people but the neighborhood population.

I find the chitter chatter soothing most days, I don’t know why. Perhaps it is because I do not fully comprehend the language or maybe because it fills the moments with background noise. It is similar to leaving a television on, but without paying for the electricity.

Today, however, I am happy to listen to the breeze and have the slow soft jazz music in the background. I am looking forward to my evening walk along the river when it cools down and the sun sets over the river.

During this time of solitude one must find joy in every moment. Reaching out for the moments that one has to reflect, to find goodness in others, and to not be shaken by silence.

“Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content.”

— Helen Keller

The carmelized onions are finished and their sweet taste lingers like the silence I am surrounded by today. It is time to eat. The next best part of the day after the lazy solitude. Until next time.

May your weekend be filled with quiet if you search for it, people because it brings you joy, or a lazy afternoon of time to just be you.

How did you spend your weekend? Comment below…

Ciao from Italy,

-jc

Open Windows

September 6, 2020

“WHAT MAKES EXPAT LIFE SO ADDICTIVE IS THAT EVERY BORING OR MUNDANE ACTIVITY YOU EXPERIENCE AT HOME (LIKE GROCERY SHOPPING, COMMUTING TO WORK OR PICKING UP THE DRY CLEANING) IS, WHEN YOU MOVE TO A FOREIGN COUNTRY, SUDDENLY TRANSFORMED INTO AN EXCITING ADVENTURE. WHEN ABROAD, BOREDOM, ROUTINE, AND ‘NORMAL’ CEASE TO EXIST. AND ALL THAT’S LEFT IS THE THRILL AND CHALLENGE OF UNCERTAINTY.”

— Reannon Muth

I felt like I am in the film Rear Window today. Here is why…

The rain started and my window is wide open. I don’t need a telescope, as did ‘Jeff’ from the film, as the view is clear and sharp. People watching can be quite the past time here I am discovering.

Today, a nonna aka: a grandma (at least that’s how I would describe her) opened the large rolling window shade of her apartment and started mopping the balcony. Her daily routine had been interrupted by the downpour of rain and lightning. Her black floral house dress fell off her shoulder as she grabbed the green plastic chairs on the balcony and stuffed them deeper under the overhang. She hurried to mop pooling water off the balcony but the rain continued and just brought more. I was enthralled to observe her passion for cleaning up the rain that kept coming like the energizer bunny who keeps banging the same drum over and over, when behind her a figure of a man appeared. Aka: nonno

His arms were at his side, and his white belly protruded. He stood watching his wife, all the while, bravely displaying his whitey tighties that stretched tight around his waist. La nonna pushed the water back and forth from the view of the large glass paneled doors. However, unlike his steady calm gaze at his wife, my mushroom pasta dish I had prepared almost spewed from my mouth. I laughed out loud at my new daily view. Yes, life in Italy has great moments that come from routine.

It’s the daily adventures that keep one guessing and smiling.

Take for example a trip to the grocery store. If you want to have a grocery discount card, (which who doesn’t) it’s important to understand, there is a process.

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At first it seems no different from the States. They ask for your identity card, which of course I don’t have yet, (another story) so, I produce my passport. Oh and don’t forget you also will need your italian social security number (sidebar: I still am trying to figure out how to memorize such a long series of numbers and letters. If anyone has a suggestion on how to do this, please comment below).

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I was beginning to wonder if I was signing my life away to get this discount grocery card. The amusing part though is when the questions start: Where are you from? Why are you here? Why this small town? And these are the questions that I THINK I understood.

But the good news is it doesn’t matter if you answer all, or some, because people will keep speaking italian to you regardless of whatever rolls off your tongue. At least if you keep trying, they too will keep repeating over and over the words for you.

And let’s not forget to be thankful for gestures, google maps, and smartphones!

Next, once the cards are issued, and I pluralize the word card on purpose, because instead of one card being issued you receive two. Why two I probe in my extremely limited Italian? “For your boyfriend.”

Eye rolling, and chuckle come from me, while smiles come from the men behind the counter. Because yes, it does take two people to fill out paperwork, examine a passport, ask questions, and look up information on your smartphone and of course, issue a discount grocery card.

Only in Italy.

You gotta love it here, and I do. I so, do.