Living in Florence, Italy -- Melinda Gallo

Friends who leave Florence

Fri, 18 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Friday, July 18, 2008

One of the sad things about being an expat in Florence is that so many people I meet end up leaving. It probably happens in many places where many expats move to, but I notice it the most here. Every year, I have to say goodbye to more than one person who has become a good friend of mine. It's such a pleasure when I am able to meet someone who becomes a close friend that it can be difficult to say goodbye.

Today, I met up with my friend Julia at Vivoli for a caff� (coffee). It's an unusual place for most people to go for colazione (breakfast) because it's well known for its gelato (ice cream). But Julia and I love it for the wonderful caff�: they use Illy coffee and whole milk that comes from La Maremma, an area in the southern part of Tuscany.

We sat at a back table as we have a few times before and talked. As I ate my brioche (croissant), I thought about the most difficult part about living here is having to say goodbye to friends. I know that there are many ways to keep in touch, but it's not the same as calling up a friend and meeting them for a caff�. There is an intimacy that is lost that can't be easily recreated when my friends move overseas. I email and chat with many of my friends on-line, but something is missing when they move to another country. It's as if we lose our connection.

It is interesting how when I see my friends again, either here or in the US, it feels as if the connection was never lost. But, while we are separated our emails become less often and our phone calls even fewer.

A few of my friends here don't want to meet other expats because of the high turnaround. Some people come for a set amount of time while others come not knowing how long they will stay. I don't want to cut myself off from meeting other people just because they might go away someday. Friends are treasures and when I'm lucky enough to find one, I try to appreciate my good fortune. In Italian, they have a wonderful expression that I cherish, "Chi trova un amico trova un tesoro. (Whoever finds a friend, finds a treasure.)" If they end up leaving, I have to deal with that when the time comes.

As I sat there with my friend Julia, I remembered when we met only a year and a half ago. I was happy to have quickly developed a friendship with her. Julia helped me a great deal at a time when everything in my life changed. She helped me get through each day with her friendship and support.

Some of my friends here protect themselves from these sad departures, but I try to remind myself of all the good times and love we shared. Often times, I think we want things to last forever and to avoid disappointment and heartbreak, we refuse to meet new people. I may be losing a friend now, but I had one for a year and a half and that's what matters most.

Browsing the mercato dei fiori

Thu, 17 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Thursday, July 17, 2008

After having colazione (breakfast) with my girlfriend at Caff� Giacosa in Palazzo Strozzi, I decided to take a walk through Piazza Repubblica. Today was sunny and warm and after our storm on Monday, I've been trying to enjoy the good weather while we're having it. I was greeted by the many banchi (stalls) selling fiori (flowers) and piante (plants). There is something magical about all the colors mixed together that puts me in an even better mood.

Every Thursday the mercato dei fiori (flower market) is held under the loggia in Piazza Repubblica near the Posta (post office). Instead of walking by to get home, I decided to peruse the banchi.

I have a few piante in our apartment, but had wanted to find some fiori. I usually go to a fioriao (florist) in Piazza della Signoria because she has a great selection for me to choose from. I don't think I've ever been to her negozio (shop) without buying something.

As I walked along the passageway between the two sides of banchi, I suddenly smelled lavanda (lavender). Normally I can't smell any of the fiori unless I bring them to my nose: cars pass by only a few meters away. I found the banco where the woman was selling dried lavanda and picked up a sachet. I told the woman, "Sentivo la lavanda prima di vederla. (I smelled the lavender before seeing it.)" She smiled at me, but didn't say anything back. I put the sachet down and continued my search for flowers to put in our apartment. I am always attracted to all the beautiful colors of the orchidee, but am always disappointed that they don't emit a beautiful scent too.

I was searching for cut fiori, but there wasn't anything that looked appealing: only baby roses and big daisies. They did have many piante with fiori, but they were to be planted outside on a terrazza (terrace). I don't have anything on my terrazza at the moment, but it would take more than a few piante to spruce it up.

I've walked through the mercato dei fiori many times in the past and I think there was much more selection to choose from. At this time of year, many people have already left the city for the summer and there are fewer banchi selling piante and fiori.

As I looked at the orchidee, the woman at the banco picked up each one as I commented on the beautiful colors. She must have picked up each one because I had a difficult time choosing just one. In the end, I bought an orchidea with purple and magenta flowers on it. She placed my orchidea in a plastic busta (bag) so the top of the pianta stuck out. As I walked home, I noticed that a few people glanced at my orchidea and smiled.

I love all mercati because I enjoy walking around and looking at everything. I love the freedom of just browsing the banchi without people pressuring me to buy. Any Thursday that I happen to be near Piazza della Repubblica, I walk down the narrow passageway even though I know that it'd be quicker to walk around it. The shiny green piante and colorful fiori always seem to brighten up my day.

Biking outside the mura

Wed, 16 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I love riding my bicicletta (bicycle) around town even though at times it can be stressful. If it's not the cars, buses, and motorini (scooters) whizzing by, it's the people who walk in the street that I try to avoid. They sometimes turn around and stare at me when I ring my campanello (bell) while they slowly get out of my way. I do give fair warning and ride rather slowly because I too am a pedestrian on the same streets. I hate it when people ride their bicicletta so fast that they come up behind me and ring their campanello so many times that I have to practically jump out of the way to avoid an incidente (accident).

Today I decided to ride my bicicletta to a computer shop in Gavinana. I usually walk to most places, but to me anything outside of the mura (walls) of Florence is too far to walk. I probably would've taken the bus to go to Gavinana, but I couldn't imagine myself on a bus full of people with the heat that we're having. On the map, the place I needed to go seemed quite close and fairly straightforward to get to. I tend to only like to ride my bicicletta to places that I know how to get to.

I rode along the lungarno (street along the Arno) and past the first two ponti. I went up the marciapiede (sidewalk) to reach the pista ciclabile (bicycle path). At the Ponte da Verrazzano, I got down from the marciapiede and rode in the street to cross over the ponte. Cars zoomed past me at close range, and I suddenly felt a bit insecure about my choice to take my bicicletta to Gavinana.

I went around the rotonda (roundabout) ducking behind a macchina (car) for protection. I continued down the main road along with all the cars while I looked for the name of the street to make sure that I was going the right way. I noticed a man riding his bicicletta on the marciapiede and thought that maybe I should do the same. I looked back to turn left on one street and went around another rotonda to the street where the negozio (shop) was.

I hopped off my bicicletta and parked it. I didn't now how nervous I was until I got off and felt myself shaking slightly.

After I went to the negozio, I walked my bicicletta to the lungarno because I didn't know how to get there with all the one way streets and the corsia preferenziale (bus and taxi lane). I took the pista ciclabile that was painted on the marciapiede and stuck to it. I didn't want to drive in traffic like I did on the way there.

When I got home, I parked my bicicletta in my piazza and locked it up to the pole. I do enjoy riding my bicicletta, but I think from now on I will stick to the centro (downtown area) and areas that I am familiar with.

Sunday's summer storm

Mon, 14 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Monday, July 14, 2008

Yesterday morning, an unexpected storm broke out. The sky went dark and the rain belted down on the streets below within a few moments after the threatening clouds appeared. I looked out the window to watch the rain, which quickly turned into a heavy, but brief, grandinata (hailstorm). I couldn't help but watch as a few people ran in the street desperately looking for cover. After a few minutes, no one was walking in the street and the city seemed to come to a halt while almost everyone stopped to watch the storm erupt and then eventually fade.

For at least an hour I watched from our apartment's windows as the Arno, which did have brown swirls of vegetation growing underneath the surface, change color from a murky brown to an olive green. The street along the Arno became flooded by so much rain at once that when cars sped by water splashed up the sidewalk.

I had been wondering when water would return to the Arno, which seemed to be so low that some people were able to walk under the ponte (bridge) where there was a cement embankment. Just a few days ago, I saw a guy fishing as he stood on the cement embankment, which then had a thin layer of water trickling down it. And then just Friday, I noticed a few women with easels set up that were painting under the ponte.

With the summer sun that shines for at least 13 hours a day on my beloved city, the Arno has been slowly disappearing. The river is my dear companion all day long. I catch a glimpse of it throughout the day to see its color change and to see what is going on.

I was happy about the rain, which filled the Arno and cooled down the city for just a brief moment. In the early evening, the air heated up again and the air seemed muggy, but then later in the night the air cooled down.

Today we've been enjoying sunny skies along with a cool breeze. I woke up to the sound of water flowing off the cement embankment under the ponte. It's the perfect summer day with the fluffy white clouds that float by and lighten up everyone's mood.

A year of Sunday lunches with my suoceri

Sun, 13 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Sunday, July 13, 2008

When I woke up on this stormy and rainy Sunday morning, I realized that I've been going to the house of my suoceri (in-laws) for Sunday lunch for an entire year. When I first went to their place for lunch, I felt a little nervous because it was important to me that they like me. From the beginning, they were very accommodating and treated me as if I were a part of the family even before I became Alessandro's moglie (wife).

I used to bring a dolce (dessert) or fiori (flowers) to them, but Alessandro's mamma asked me to stop bringing regali (gifts). Initially, it was difficult for me to go to their place for lunch without bringing anything since I was taught to never go empty handed. Now, I only bring a regalo every once in a while and they seem to appreciate it.

Initially, I would walk or ride my bicicletta (bike) to their place, but this last winter when the weather was either cold or rainy my suocero (father-in-law) would pick me up at the Ponte alle Grazie to drive me to their place. Even now when it's too hot, he'll pick me up because it can be unbearable to ride my bicicletta. When Alessandro notices that my bicicletta isn't parked outside, he laughs and says that his genitori (parents) mi viziano (are spoiling me).

In the beginning, I would eat everything his mamma put in front of me. My own mother taught me that even if someone made something I didn't like, I was supposed to eat it anyway. If I was asked how it was, I was to say that it was delicious even if I didn't like it.

I have noticed that every time I like something, my suocera makes it more often. And when I don't like something, she makes it less often for me. Once she made everyone tagliolini con asparagi (taglioni with asparagus) and made me a pasta dish only for me because she knows I'm not that fond of asparagi. Although one Sunday when my suocera put a plate of fagiolini verdi (green beans) in front of me, I didn't serve myself any. She said, "Pensavo che ti piacessero? (I thought you liked them?)" I felt my throat tighten as I heard a voice telling me to just eat them, but I had to tell her the truth, "Non mi piacciono tanto. (I don't like them that much.)" She told me that I ate them the last two times she made them and that I said they were good. "Li mangio, ma non mi piacciono. (I eat them, but I don't like them.)," I said with a twinge of regret.

She moved the plate of fagiolini verdi away from me and placed a large bowl of salad in front of me. She said, "Se non ti piacciono, non hai bisogno di mangiarli. (If you don't like them, you don't have to eat them.)"

It is new for me to not be obligated to eat what is placed in front of me at the lunch table. I also admit that I do feel viziata (spoiled) because they always want me to enjoy my meal with them.

Our Sunday lunches are not all about the food, but more about my feeling more and more a part of a family. And that is the greatest gift I could've asked for.

City noises in the summer

Fri, 11 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Friday, July 11, 2008

With summer in Florence comes open windows and noisy streets. We have the typical sounds like the bells of the Palazzo Vecchio that ring every hour and the cars and motorini (scooters) that whiz by on the lungarno (street along the Arno) at the end of our piazza. I sometimes hear people speaking below my window in the piazza while I'm working on my computer. At night, their voices carry even more especially when they walk in the narrow street below the side windows of our place.

There are noises that I have become accustomed to: the camion della spazzatura (garbage truck) comes by around 6am to empty the blue cassonnetti (large garbage cans), the glass bottles being thrown one by one into the recycle bin in the piazza by someone from the hotel every morning at around 7am, and at 8:30am one of the shop keepers in the street below our apartment opens the bandone (rolling shutter). I hear the metal roll up in one swift movement and I know that the day has officially begun. My favorite sound is the water in the Arno rushing down the cement embankment especially after a big rain.

Sometimes in the morning, the police come and tow away the cars that are not allowed to be parked in the piazza below. They blow their whistles at drivers who arrive and try to park illegally. I can then hear the guy from the carro attrezzi (tow truck) toss the metal bar underneath the car they are preparing to tow.

More often than not, I hear people talking in the street as they walk by. Sometimes I think they don't realize how loudly they are speaking as I can make out the entire conversation while I'm sitting at my desk. At night is the worst because the city is quiet and the only sound I hear is their voices. The other night around 3am, I had to tell three people to quiet down because they were talking loudly. One guy looked up at me and said, "Scusa (Excuse me)" before leaving the piazza and heading down another street.

Even the noises that could be considered annoying are a part of living in the city along the Arno. I have become accustomed to them and find that they are now a part of my life. I find them all comforting and when I don't hear some of them, I wonder what is going on below and peek outside to check.

Meeting up with Lisa McGarry

Wed, 9 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

I attended Lisa McGarry's book signing for her new book, Piazzas of Florence, at the McRae's bookshop in late June. I had heard about the book signing one day when I was perusing books. I immediately put the date on my calendar as soon as I got home. I was happy that my friend Diana came to attend it as well after I told her what a wonderful book Lisa wrote. I not only wanted to get my book signed, but I wanted to meet Lisa who is American and lives in Florence.

I enjoyed hearing her talk about her book because I have already read half of it and loved it. I'm trying to savor her book because it's such a wonderful read. I particularly love the mix between the history of the piazze (piazzas) in Florence and her personal experience in each one of them.

As I was leaving the book signing, I asked Lisa if she'd like to meet up for a caff� (coffee) so that we could talk a little more. I didn't want to take up too much of her time during the book signing because so many other people wanted to talk with her. She accepted my offer and we met today at her caff� (caf�) in Piazza della Passera, which she had mentioned in her book.

Over a cappuccino and a pasta (pastry) we talked about our mutual love of Florence. We shared stories about our lives and our experiences here. It was so wonderful to discover how someone else felt a pull to come to Florence and was able to find a way to move and live here. It was also interesting to discuss what we appreciate about our lives in Florence and what we have learned about ourselves since we have come to live here.

I realized that my love of cooking certainly came about after moving to Florence. I had cooked a little before, but more out of duty. And, now that I'm here in Florence I do find much joy shopping for food and cooking. Usually the simplest dishes are the tastiest.

I unfortunately had to go home for an appointment after an hour and a half, but was so happy to have spoken with Lisa. I'm looking forward to another caff� some time so we can talk some more about Florence. By the time we meet again, I will have finished her book and will certainly have more praises to sing to her.

Via dei Neri at different times of the day

Tue, 8 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Via dei Neri is the one street in centro (downtown) that I always take to go just about anywhere because I live very close to it. I love how at different times of the day the street, which represents most of the city, changes.

Early in the morning when I run down via dei Neri, there are a few people walking their dogs or going to work. I usually spot a few trucks parked on the marciapiede (sidewalk) delivering supplies to a few of the shops. The people who work at the edicola (newspaper kiosk) are usually arranging the newspapers and magazines.

Towards 10 am when the shops are open, I either ride my bicicletta (bike) or walk down via dei Neri where large crowds of people walk in the opposite direction toward the Uffizi. Generally they walk behind one person who is holding a sign up to lead the way. Lately, more and more of them have headsets on to listen to the cicerone (tour guide) speak. Many of them walk on the marciapiede while others walk in the street. I generally walk in the street so that it's easier for me to get around the sea of tourists.

I think I notice the tourists more now that many fiorentini (Florentines) have left the city for the summer. Today I was buying some fruit and vegetables from the ortolano (greengrocer) and most of the people who walked by were not Italian. The ones I understood remarked on the colorful display of fruits.

If I'm out around 1pm, via dei Neri is quiet and seems almost deserted. Many of the small restaurants along the street are full, but the marciapiedi are relatively empty. When many of the shops are closed for the lunch break, the streets are even emptier.

After 3pm when the shops open back up, the streets fill up again with locals and tourists. I usually go out to get a few more things at the shops before they close at around 7pm.

On Friday and Saturday nights in the summer, the via dei Neri gets blocked off so that a few of the bars and restaurants as well as the gelateria (ice cream shop) can place tables and chairs in the street for their customers. It's a nice touch for the summer. Sometimes Alessandro and I walk down to get a gelato (ice cream) or just stroll down the via dei Neri.

The later it gets at night, the more the crowds disperse and via dei Neri is once again deserted. A quietness blankets the street and it falls asleep until the next day when new visitors come to walk down it again.

A new modem, but no home phone

Mon, 7 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Monday, July 7, 2008

Only two weeks ago, I called FastWeb to tell them that I was having problems with my Internet connection. The woman at the other end of the phone went through the support question drill to make sure I had plugged in my modem and that I had tried restarting it. She told me that she'd be sending out a tecnico (technician) to check everything out the next morning. He arrived a half hour early for our appointment, but called me from the parking lot below our apartment to make sure I was home.

He huffed and puffed up the stairs, replaced one of the parts in the modem, and sat on his cellphone complaining about how long it took to get my modem to work. While I was trying to work on my computer, he explained to me how the modem I have is useless because it always has problems. By the time he left our place, my Internet was back up, but within an hour my home phone, which is part of the FastWeb service, was down again. I didn't call back because I need my Internet much more than I need the phone.

This morning when I got to my computer, my Internet was not working again. I looked at my modem, which seemed to have lights that lampeggiavano (were blinking) erratically. I called tech support and they told me that I'll need to go to a local shop and sostituire (replace) the modem. The tecnico who came a few weeks ago told me that I'd have to eventually sostituire the modem. The guy gave me the name and phone number of two shops and told me to call before going just in case they can't sostituire my modem for me.

I called the one shop that is closer to our place and the guy told me to call back in the afternoon because his Internet was down and he was unable to go to the FastWeb website to check anything. I called the other shop, which is much farther away, they said that they couldn't even sostituire my modem. I waited until the afternoon in the hopes that the first shop would get their Internet connection, but they didn't.

I decided to call FastWeb back. I had already lost my patience because I had already been without a good Internet connection for six hours and I couldn't do much work. The guy at FastWeb gave me four other phone numbers, which surprised me because the guy I had this morning said there were only two places I could go in all of Florence.

I called the number of the shop that was closest to our apartment and asked him if I could sostituire my FastWeb modem. Alessandro told me after my brief phone conversation that I sounded almost rude. I didn't understand at first, but he explained that I'm supposed to explain my entire problem and then say that I want to sostituire my FastWeb modem. I did cut to the chase and only asked him the latter. I felt a bit bad, but at least the guy on the other end didn't appear to be offended.

Alessandro immediately drove me there and I brought my old modem with all the cables. When I was at the man's shop, I asked him if I needed to do anything else to get the new modem to work, but he told me that I would just need to hook it up to the wall and I'd be set to go.

I should've known that nothing is ever that simple, but I believed him. When I got home, I plugged my new modem into the wall and reset it a few times. Nothing seemed to work. I took a break for a few hours and hoped the problem would resolve itself. When it didn't, I called the tech support again at FastWeb. The woman said that I was supposed to call FastWeb back to give them the Mac address on the back of the modem as soon as I got it. I was furious with the guy at the shop where I got my modem and almost called him up to complain, but I became more interested in getting my Internet connection working again.

I thought that my modem would work immediately, but the "Voce (Voice)" light didn't go on and I still couldn't connect to the Internet. The woman told me that she'd put a note in my pratica (record) to say that a tecnico will look at the connection again. I was actually unhappy for replacing my modem because this morning my old modem worked intermittently and now it wasn't working at all, so I couldn't even connect for five minutes to the Internet.

After walking around my entire apartment with my computer open to see if there were any open WiFi networks nearby, my own Internet finally began to work again. I saw the "Voce" light on the modem lampeggiava (was blinking), so I tried the home phone, but it still wasn't working.

Now, I have a new modem and can connect to Internet, but my FastWeb home phone isn't working. I don't even want to call them for fear that my Internet will stop working again. I can live without my home phone as most people call me on my cell anyway, but I can't live without Internet.

Un matrimonio a Greve in Chianti

Sat, 5 July 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Saturday, July 5, 2008

I haven't been to a matrimonio (wedding) with a ricevimento (reception) in a long time. Last year a friend got married at the comune (town hall) in Florence and then had a rinfresco (a party with drinks and appetizers) afterwards, but it was small and lasted only until about 8pm. So today I was excited to go to Greve in Chianti to attend our friend's matrimonio in the comune. Quickly after the ceremony, we were driving up a dirt road to the Castello di Verrazzano for the ricevimento.

After parking the car, we walked through the iron gates of the propriet� (estate) to the covered terrazza (terrace) that looked out onto the countryside. We enjoyed the view of the valley, which is shown in the picture, while we had our aperitivo (aperitif) with the other guests. I knew a few people, but I ended up talking to the only two other straniere (foreign girls) there. One was from Brazil and the other one from Puerto Rico.

We were taken on a visita guidata (guided tour) of the cantina (wine cellar) before dinner. A man took us through the cantina and explained how they made their own vin santo (holy wine), Chianti, and even aceto balsamico (balsamic vinegar). We were able to see the large wooden botti (wine casks) where the Chianti ages for at least one year. There was a small chalkboard on the front of the botte that said what type of wine and year it was.

We asked what he thought the annata (vintage) this year for Chianti would be because there seems to be a lot of speculation based on the weather we've been having. He said, "Finch� non � arrivata l'uva, non si pu� sapere. (Until the grapes arrive, we can't know.)"

When the tour was over, we walked down the hillside to a large dining room with bay windows. After we were seated at our table where we didn't know anyone, we took our plates to the buffet table to select our antipasti (appetizers). We introduced ourselves to the people at our table and talked mostly about the food and wine.

The camerieri (waiters) picked up our plates and then served us two primi (pasta dishes) of which one was ribollita. For our secondi (main dishes), they put plates of arista (chine of pork) and bistecca alla fiorentina on the table for us to enjoy. We finished almost everything we were given.

Between the primi and secondi, there was a group of men who went around to each table and picked one unsuspecting person to drink an entire glass of wine alla goccia (as a shot). They'd sing a song after they filled the person's glass up, "Bevilo tutto, tutto, tutto. Bevilo tutto, tutto, tutto. (Drink it all up. Drink it all up.)" When the person finished drinking, they'd sing, "L'ha bevuto tutto e non gli ha fatto male. L'acqua fa male e vino fa cantare. (He drank it all and it didn't hurt him. Water is not good for you and wine makes you sing.)"

During the dinner, there was an animatore (MC) and a cantante (singer) from Sicily who sang popular songs in English. I couldn't believe how perfect his pronunciation was when he sang in English. I've heard a few Italians sing in English who accentuate letters in words, like the "h" in "happy," more than is done by a native speaker. Not only did he not do that, but if I didn't look at him and just listen to him sing, I could've sworn that the cantante was a native English-speaker.

It was almost midnight by the time we had the torta degli sposi (wedding cake). We were probably the first ones to leave at around 1am right after we ate some cantuccini (biscotti) and vin santo that the camerieri plopped down on our table. We kissed the people we already knew and a few that we met goodbye and gave our best wishes to the nuovi sposi (newlyweds). We left the majority of people dancing and singing in front of the makeshift stage where the cantante was performing.

On the road down from the propriet�, we were greeted by a small pack of cinghiali (wild boars) that were crossing the dirt road. I had heard that there were a lot of cinghiali running freely in Tuscany, but I had never seen any before. They were much smaller and less wild than I had imagined them.

As we drove away under the starlit sky, I was wondering if we'd be able to go back another time for a visit. I truly enjoyed the Castello di Verrazzano because it is in a beautiful corner of Tuscany to enjoy wonderful wine and tasty food.