Posted in Expat in Italy, Italy, Living abroad, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Travel, tagged dawn of a dream, England, Lambretta 150 LD Scooter, Lire, Malmo, Modena, Piaggio Ape, Rotherham, Sweden, travel on April 6, 2012|
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I don’t know why, but the sight of my friend Brian “putting” about Orvieto in his 2000 forest green Piaggio Ape makes me smile. Perhaps it’s because he’s such a distinguished and elegant Englishman that the visual of him in that little Italian pickup truck (“ape” means “bee”) creates a contrasting effect – as if one is looking at an enigma. But once you get to know Brian you’ll discover the many facets of his personality: father, grandfather, friend, soul mate to the lovely Antonella, and an adventuresome, rugged, country-boy-at-heart hobby farmer.
I got to wondering about how Brian happened to land in Italy, so on one of our morning jaunts around the Rupe I asked him, and he graciously agreed to spin his wonderful tale of two teenage boys, a yellow and grey 150 LD Lambretta scooter and 4,000 kilometers of roads that began the dream to live in Italy.
Just sixteen and eighteen years of age respectively, he and his friend Michael Williams set out from Rotherham, England for Italian parts unknown. It was 1957 (a very good year) – a decade post-World War II when Italy was a much different country than it is today. He remembers it as a simple and innocent time.
Brian doesn’t recall the girl in the photo’s name, only that “she didn’t fancy me.”
The exchange rate to lire was good, the girls were pretty and exotic, and the boys’ youthful exuberance and open hearts bought them life lessons you couldn’t pay a million euros for today. Per esempio, a collision with the back of a tractor ended amicably with a “wine” summit on the tractor owner’s portico. Both parties agreed to assume equal fault in the matter with just a gentleman’s handshake, a “grazie” and a “ciao”.
As with most journeys, this one came to an end and Brian dutifully returned to England to join the family’s tile business. When it came time for a trade course, his father sent him off to Malmö, Sweden – knowing full well the risk of sending him to the training in Modena, Italy – Brian might never have returned!
Enjoying a visit with the grandchildren
Brian worked hard and raised his family, venturing back to Italy whenever he could. With his children grown and his tile business sold, he retired at the young age of 51 and made a “bee” line straight for Italy where he has now lived for 21 years…and counting.
Although today he drives around on three wheels instead of two, I think it would be safe to say that life in Italy is very sweet for Brian and his little Ape.
by Toni DeBella
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Posted in Expat in Italy, Italian Culture, Italians, Italy, Orvieto, Travel, tagged evil eye, Fort Knox, italian society, La Signora, Orvieto on April 1, 2012|
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People often speak about the traditional “Signora” as if she were a charming part of Italian society long since past. Don’t you believe it! La Signora is quite alive and well and combing the streets of Orvieto in search of a naïve and insecure American like me to use for target practice to sharpen her skills of intimidation. Frankly, I live in terror of getting on the bad side of one of these ladies.
I had my first real run in with La Signora at our town’s Saturday outdoor market. I’d made the amateurish blunder of hesitating for a split second and a woman with her produce-filled cart literally ran over me, scraping the back of my heel which broke the strap of my favorite pair of sandals. She didn’t even slow down – blowing right past me without a word. She was surprisingly unaffected by the ranting and cursing of a bloodied lunatic who doesn’t know her way around a vegetable stand. I learned at that moment that La Signora, like other people of great power and influence, is a force to be reckoned with.
La Signora demands respect and she most assuredly gets it. She is a sensible shoe-wearing, evil eye-casting, mama’s boy-promoting woman on a mission. She is serious-minded, takes no prisoners and doesn’t trust you as far as she can throw you. Her outside shell is tough to penetrate – Fort Knox would be easier to crack than her personal inner sanctum.
I both admire and revere La Signora. She is able to out cook, out shop and out walk me up a hill…and if she needed to, I believe she could even out run me. In Italy, La Signora reigns supreme.
by Toni DeBella
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Posted in Expat in Italy, Italian Culture, Italy, Living abroad, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Travel, Umbria, tagged art, Florence, Fountain in Orvieto, Galleria degli Uffizi, Italian Art, Michelangelo's David, Stendhal syndrome, travel, Uffizi Gallery on March 18, 2012|
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You’ve probably heard of the Stendhal syndrome, named for the famous French author who detailed his experience of being overcome with emotion by the immense beauty of Florentine art. In 1979 an Italian psychiatrist finally gave the syndrome its official name after reporting nearly 100 tourists at the Galleria degli Uffizi had fainted – some sent to hospital when their heads hit the hard marble floor. Personally I have never actually swooned from viewing a painting, but I do get a bit light-headed at the sight of Michelangelo’s David.
Art: The Good, the Bad and….
Unfortunately there won’t be any swooning happening here. You see, at the base of the rock that I live on, in front of the town’s train station sits a sculpture in a fountain. This “work of art” makes a very strong first impression to visitors arriving by rail on their way up to town. It is my understanding (I did some asking around) that the artist is internationally renowned and important enough that the City commissioned not one, but two of his works for installation. I don’t get it. I can’t even describe the fountain to you without using terms that would make a 9 year old boy collapse in a heap of laughter at my “potty” humor. Fortunately no one really cares what I think about the fountain, and why should they? Who the hell am I to judge the merits of a piece of art? What I know about art couldn’t fill an espresso cup. Art, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder. Enough said.
by Toni DeBella
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Posted in Expat in Italy, Italy, Living abroad, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Travel, tagged Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, John Irving, Ray Bradbury, Scrivere, Truman Capote, What is a writer, writing on March 12, 2012|
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writ·er [rahy-ter] noun. a person engaged in writing
The words scribbler, dabbler, pencil pusher and hack all come to mind as a description of the activity in which I am now engaged. But the term “writer” – that particular word sticks in my throat. For me the title has always been reserved for those who actually deserve it, such as the likes of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Capote, Irving and Bradbury.
So what makes someone a “real” writer? Are you a writer when you are paid to write? If so, how much money buys you this status? Is a writer someone who gets published? Today’s publishing landscape has changed to include self-published websites, bloggers, contributors, ghostwriters, editors, etc. Which of these capacities qualifies you as a writer and which do not? How many people in the world must agree that you are a writer in order for you to call yourself one? Do people fill out a ballot designating you as such? What is the litmus test one must pass to become a member of this elite club?
Even if I had answers to the above questions perhaps they might not amount to a hill of beans? Could it be that the name you give yourself isn’t really that important? Perhaps it isn’t what you say you do that matters, but that what you do brings about fulfillment. Every day I sit down at my computer and put words onto a page. Maybe that’s all I really need to know. I write.
by Toni DeBella
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Posted in Americans Abroad, Expat in Italy, Italy, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Travel, tagged Italian for Foreigners, learning Italian, Sweathogs, travel, Welcome Back Kotter on March 6, 2012|
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The information I was given at the education office of the centro sociale (community center) was that the Italian class commenced at 3:25 on Thursday afternoons. The photo is of the scene on Thursday at exactly 3:24 p.m. Oops, apparently the class actually begins at 4:30 p.m. I located the teacher and she recommended I come, instead, to her class on Tuesdays at 2:30 p.m. Okay, I’m game. I’ll be back on Tuesday afternoon…
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I don’t think I would have believed it. My friend, who attended class with me, was witness to the casino (mess) that was my first public funded italiano per stranieri (Italian for Foreigners) course.
It was a blast from the past – reminiscent of the glory days of flying spitballs, pimple-faced awkwardness and hallway passes alla “Welcome Back Kotter”, the iconic television sitcom about a street-wise teacher saddled with a class of overzealous, unruly misfits.
This afternoon’s cast of characters: a pretty blond, if not somewhat scattered teacher; a macho hooligan who passed out our text books while making wisecracks with a unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth; a skinny, greasy-haired and sullen boy who interrupted class to take a call on his cellphone; a dull-witted, sloppy adolescent surfing his Facebook page during the lesson; a painfully shy North African women who refused to speak if asked a question – she just sat there until the teacher moved on; a young Eastern European couple who sat so close together they almost became one person and, my favorite, the know-it-all teacher’s pet who corrected your answers before the instructor got a word in edgewise.
The class was disorganized, the overhead projector didn’t function and the audio CD was scratchy and unintelligible. However, I did learn some things I didn’t know before – the words l’orario fisso (fixed schedule); lo stipendio (salary), and turni (shifts). Also, silenzio! (be quiet!); No, non si può fumare qui dentro! (No, you cannot smoke in here!) and Spero che tornerai la prossima settimana (I hope you will come back next week).
I believe “sweathog” translated into Italian is sweathog.
by Toni DeBella
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Posted in Americans Abroad, Expat in Italy, Italy, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Travel, tagged archipelago, DeBella, il mondo e' piccolo, It's a small world, travel on March 5, 2012|
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It never ceases to amaze me how tiny the world has become. From my little apartment in San Francisco, I have an idea. I sit down at my desk and pound out my thoughts onto my computer. Because of the nature of the internet today, my viewpoints and impressions are broadcast instantaneously across an ocean where a man sitting at his computer in Italy happens to run across my article, Orvieto, Italy: A Land Where Time Stands Still. Something moves him to send me a short note – he says he likes what I wrote about his hometown.
Just a few short months later, I find myself sitting across the dinner table from a lovely couple to whom I’d been introduced that evening. Halfway through the supper conversation we discover the link: “So, you’re that Toni DeBella”, the husband declares to our astonishment. You could have knocked me over with a feather!
In these crazy moments, the once unthinkable becomes
imaginable. Here we all sit together in a restaurant in Orvieto, experiencing firsthand the growing obsolescence of continents and landmasses with hard-drawn borders. Can’t you just picture it – the entire human race clustered in one big archipelago – chained loosely and floating alongside one another, just waiting to collide? And do you know the most amazing part? My story is becoming more and more common and every day. Il mondo e’ piccolo (it’s a small world), and it’s getting smaller all the time.
Read another “small world” story by Lisa Chiodo at Renovating Italy here.
by Toni DeBella
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“You’re an expatriate. You’ve lost touch with the soil. You get precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to death. You become obsessed by sex. You spend all your time talking, not working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang around cafés.”
– Ernest Hemmingway
Ahhh…the adventure and discovery of learning about my newly-adopted nation and how it functions – from the everyday (taking a number at the post office) and mundane (small town news and gossip travels like wildfire), to the intricacies of governmental bureaucracy (it took me an entire afternoon and ten forms to deposit money in a bank account). Mastery of a new system takes an adjustment period. How long my learning curve will be is entirely in my hands. My passport may say I am Italian now, but I know this is a legal technicality. I am a stranger learning to live the way people live here and it isn’t always straightforward.
A rosy outlook, tongue-biting and an almost Pollyannaish mind set is how I roll these days. Like muttering about the August sun shining bright and hot – complain if you will, but the sun will continue to beat down on you. My days are about sink or swim, and being educated one mistake at a time. You live, you learn.
by Toni DeBella
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Posted in Expat in Italy, Italy, Orvieto, Travel, tagged Cats in Italy, Cats in Rome, Cats on airplanes, Expatriats in Italy, frequent flyer miles, international cat, orvieto italy, Traveling with Pets on February 18, 2012|
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The six of us enroute to Rome
I haven’t decided if I’m going to add my experience as an international cat escort to my curriculum vitae. It wasn’t an activity I intentionally sought out, but rather one that came to me serendipitously and fortuitously.
For a few years now, I’ve been the blissful sidekick to three of the most well-traveled, worldly-wise, continental felines you’d ever want to meet.
Racking up the frequent flyer miles as they move
seamlessly and nonchalantly between Orvieto, Italy and New York, these “catnappers” curl up peacefully beneath the seat in front of me for the long journey.
Quietly chilling out through the first of their nine lives, they seem lulled by the hum of the jet engines as our airplane crosses the Atlantic Ocean on its way to Rome.
I believe these kitties will have many, many more dolci vite Italiane ahead of them.
**Our dear Chloe and Ditto have since gone to Cat Heaven and the newest addition to the family is the scampy “Gardi” (named after the place where he was discovered – in the garden).
by Toni DeBella
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“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”-C.S. Lewis
Every single one of us has our own unique and special mechanism for coping and strategizing our way through the world’s challenges. I find that what works best for me is a random, shotgun-style approach to personal achievement. I call it the “Spaghetti Theory”: throw everything you have at a predicament and see what sticks.
This philosophy encompasses a combination of the law of averages, blood, sweat and tears, and a bit of dumb luck. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t, but in less than two weeks I will be heading for Italy again – launching “Phase One” of my grand scheme. I am so close that I can almost taste it. For nearly seven years I have been feverishly “flinging noodles” at the walls of life in a concentrated effort to reach my goal. I’ve been plotting, concocting, commiserating and essentially boring the living daylights out of my friends, family and even complete strangers.
“Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.” – Winston Churchill
Curiously, as my objective moved from the realm of fantasy into the universe of real and tangible
possibility, an odd thing happened – I began to experience a disbelief that I could actually get what I want, followed by a paralyzing fear that perhaps once I get it, I might not want it any longer! Here I am, standing on the precipice of my dream coming true and finding myself in such a discombobulated state of mind. Of course you’ve heard of a fear of failure, but did you know that some folks actually suffer from a fear of success? After all the obsessing and preoccupation, could I honestly be afraid of crossing the finish line? …Nope, don’t think so.
Teetering atop the high-dive, I am ready to take the plunge into the deep-end. There is no way in hell I’m going to come this close to the prize, only to turn in retreat before getting my just desserts. I owe it to myself and to the many friends who have already blazed the trail abroad or who are taking up the rear. I am not so special. I am only one of many dreamers of an Italian life.
by Toni DeBella
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Posted in Christmas in Italy, Culture, Expat in Italy, Festivals in Italy, Festivals in Umbria, Italy, tagged Amaretti, Babbo Natale, Ceppo, Grappa, La Befana, Panettone, Presepio on December 22, 2011|
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…Where the joyful sonatas of “Auguri” replace “Buongiorno” just for the season…and the sparkling, twinkling, snowy-white lights bring elegance to streets and alleyways. Christmas markets and ice rinks erupt everywhere…Presepio and Ceppo reflect the perennial traditions of the old and yawning, sleepy children at Midnight Mass remind us of the new. Holiday salutations begin with Prosecco and end the night with Grappa…and it is never, ever too cold for gelato! Panettone and Amaretti dunked into your cappuccino means it’s Christmas morning and…Babbo Natale “is coming to town” but in eleven days, La Befana is bringing the “stash”!
Buone Feste (Happy Holidays) to you and yours!
Peace in the New Year.
by Toni DeBella
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Orvieto or Bust: 