Amicizia

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Amicizia
I believe this is the word for friendship. My Italian class has given me a chance to form the friendships I was hoping for-a particular group of witty, relaxed students from all over the world-Australia, London, Japan, Poland, Albania, Austria, New York. Our teacher is intelligent, helpful, patient and kind. Twice now a group of us, quite large in fact, 10-13, have gone out for dinner, drinks, antipasti (the kind that is FREE at the local bars from 6-9pm or so every night) or a combination of the above. The group has a core, with a few that change, which adds a sense of variety and a chance to get to know each other outside the classroom…where we practice our Italian over mixed drinks, gossip, tell our life stories in a nut shell. Both time, the common experience of the classroom, and the closeness of our ages (we range from about 20-30) has bred a ripe environment for the creation of friendships…but of course, all things here in Firenze change, and this situation is no different. Several students have already left the class-eager to live in a new and more exciting city, or find a school closer to their apartment- and many more will not return for the winter semester. In one month, without the bind of the classroom, we will find out of the friendships formed can be sustained…but for two months, from the initial journey until now, I must remember that I am facing all sorts of challenges, large and small, as if Italy is presenting to me situations that perhaps in the past I would not have faced…dealing with change so often, for someone so eager to put down roots quickly, is just one…

LOOKING BACK A BIT…
This past weekend, NOVEMBER 6 AND 7, I was invited to stay at a Villa in a small town near Perugia, to celebrate the birthday of a friend. It was a casual group, comprised mostly of couples. On the train, I met up with a friend of Marzia’s (whose birthday celebration it was) and we began our conversation in Italian-only to find out we are both originally from the US after 10 minutes of making our way through foreign conversation. Like me she is half Italian, and came here to study a bit in Bologna, only to end up staying 5 more years after finding a great job. Her comprehension of the language is what I aim for-an ease for conversation, without searching for words, and the integration of modern phrases/lingo, regional differences…without losing proper handling of English as well. Anyway-we arrive at the Villa with Marzia and her boyfriend from the train station at Orte. The Villa is 6 bedrooms, a large kitchen, huge living space, dining room, fireplace and 4 bathrooms (2 downstairs and 2 upstairs where there are 4 bedrooms AND another kitchen). The villa is beautiful and comfortable, on the side of hill, looking out towards the valley-I think we are about a 30 minute ride from Rome. The is a pool in the back, and fruit trees out front. We are surrounded by farm land and the light is tremendous and warm.

The first night we help cook and sit down to a dinner of freshly made tortellini from Bologna in a light broth, bruschetta toasted on the fire, frittata with onions. Most of the evening, while sipping glass after glass of red wine, is spent preparing for the big dinner the next day, and so we, all 15 of us, sit down for dinner at 11pm. After clearing dishes and prepping the kitchen for the morning-we all head to the couch, warmed by the open fire (the men are all pros at keeping it going…), and cuddle up to settle in for the evening. We are accompanied by several dogs (big and small)-very sweet and tame (more than half of the couple that come will have dogs with them….) that never bark. We watch an Italian version of Survivor-and after several hours we, one by one, fall asleep on eachother’s shoulders.

I wake up at 2 am, and realize I am 1 of 4 left on the couch. I wander to the bedroom, fall asleep immediately and awaken the next morning to the aromas of an Italian kitchen- fresh coffee, biscotti for dipping, a soffrito for a pasta fagioli is now simmering away in a deep brown broth (onions, carrots, beans, garlic, celery, tomato, pepperoncini), potatoes cut the night before are awaiting their bath of olive oil, salt, pepper and fresh rosemary from the garden out front. Marzia has made a dough, that will become a pie with tuna and some sort of salad-like vegetable. After breakfast, we begin cutting fresh bread, arrange the cheeses, bake the lasagna, stir the pasta fagioli, wash the cauliflower, begin baking the patate/potatoes in the ovens both upstairs and down.

The men begin the fire outside on an ancient grill, and sausages and ribs await their roasting. By 1pm, 5 more couples arrive- making for a group of about 25-30, including some of her family members. We have all showered and are now hungrily awaiting to consume what we have prepared and watched being prepared-one by one cars arrive, many with dogs peeking eagerly from the window, and we begin munching on bread, tomatoes with olive oil, cheese, olives, etc. Although we have set up tables both inside and out-we all end up basking in the sunlight outside, buffet style. Some move their chairs out from the stone terrace, under the fruit trees, facing the yellow/orange light. Everyone is very kind and talkative-in fact, I meet a couple originally from New York who have now been in Rome for many years-so much that I consider them Italians.

At 4pm, we have coffee and chat over tiramisu, a chocolate torte, nutella and biscotti. Later that evening, we begin playing Italian Trivial Pursuit-and I am completely lost. It is very amusing this game- to watch the dynamics and expressions of those playing and those taking a less active role-the competitiveness of the Italian spirit! Myself and my new friend, Julia, from Bologna are on the same team, and are expected to know EVERYTHING that has to do with American culture-a task we fail and later I come to find out that some where truly disappointed!!! After more wine, coffee, tea and cantucci, we finish the game and people start heading home. It is about 6:30pm-and the lights of the valley below are glowing. The wind is quite strong, and the trees outside or pushed and pulled by its force. The fire is still going strong, and the kitchen has somehow been miraculously cleared. I take home a loaf of bread and some leftover sausages. We give hugs and lots of kisses and are chaperoned to the station by the couple originally from NY. It was a great weekend-exemplary of Italian socialization-eating, drinking wine, giggling, cooking, lots of affection, even among friends.

NOVEMBER 11-12
On Thursday we went to a resturant called Salamanca, thinking we’d be dancing to salsa, but instead surprised, though happily, that the place had great sangria. So after a few litres of the sweet stuff, my friend and her sister, from Brazil, a banker from London (who is moving to Rome to learn better Italian and enjoy a more spirited Italian energy), and another girl from London as well (both Indian-she is from Ceylon?). After a few hours of conversation, with a backdrop of cheering men in another room and Brazilian music, we move to another club eager to move ourselves a bit…and ended up dancing for several hours at place called Dulce Zucchero. We are entertained for the first hour by a guy singing Bob Marley…until 1am when the DJ gets started-for 6 euro, I drink my vodka and lemon, dance a bit, take turns talking to a few Italians who can't help but flirt, notice that the scene is quite young, and then we make our exit at 2:30am, knowing we had to be in class the next morning, we wandered Florence for 30 minutes looking for a taxi…having called 3 taxi companies, we found one only by running TO it like crazy women.

On Friday, I joined the 2 sisters from Brazil, for a tour of Oltrarno (the section of historic old Firenze ACROSS the river). We met up at 3 and for the next 3 hours were guided to through the streets of what has famously been known for its artisans and old craftsworkers. This tour brings us to Il Leone, which is an argenteria-a silver-smithing workshop. The main room in front is bright and rich with embossed silver bowls, dishes, vases, pitchers, etc. We are then taken to see the working studio in the back-an amazing sight and mysterious-lead through the various rooms hidden behind the brightness of the showroom. We watch a flat metal disk of silver be pulled and stretched into a bowl form, which is then embossed and soldered as necessary. Everything is done by hand-and everyone is particular to their room-some burnish and polish, some are drawing the traditional designs and begin punching the metal out from within, some are hammering, soldering, washing. We are witnessing techniques traditional to Firenze since the middle ages!!!

At the next studio, the Fratelli Ciulli, famous for their lost wax and terra casting techniques, we are given a tour of the premises-from the forging area (iron) to the casting and mold making area. Our guide shows us how molds are made from earthen clay that is treated to be fire resistant and porous, that makes an fine imprint of object, into which molten metal is poured. The clay is used over and over again-its original yellow burned to a rich, dark black. The room is covered in a fine whitish layer of sand/ash. The metal molds to be pressed into the sand are hanging on the walls. We are told that the floor is usually covered with sawdust to absorb and prevent any runaway molten metal from jumping and exploding in contact with a cold surface, as it is being poured from the huge drum from inside the huge forge. The products most well known from the Fratelli Ciulli are lamps, wall units, chandeliers, etc…and from what I remember the tradition of this work has been passed down more than 3 generations- and they export work all over Europe.

The last workshop we visit is a ceramic studio, but the work is not as impressive as the first two. Still, I am impressed and am excited that there is this spirit of creativity and tradition and energy-hidden from the sight of the passers-by! It gives me more faith in Florence, a city that many become disappointed in for it’s lack of energy and freshness. To have seen these studios in action-and to link manual labor to the product that resides on a million shelves behind glass-is refreshing and illuminating. The sense of time and history and tradition-all manifest in a working studio-is incredible to witness…a continuum over the past 500 years that continues even now is rare. It is art that does it.

ADDITIONS:
- It rained in Firenze for several days. I had to do a load of laundry, but ended up having to dry everything on a rack in the living room. Unfortunately my underwear became public, and bit more stiff than I’d like it.
- -I had dinner with a close friend and his roommate, both from Albania. In such a small apartment and a kitchen only 2 foot square, with no oven and 2 burners, these two boys can cook wonders. The table was set, and I was offered a chair (politely pushed in while I sat 😊 ), a large hunk of fresh bread, and served several ladels full of soup-a dark, rich broth, tomatoe based, with onion and chunks of roast meat, absolutely delicious, more than I can describe. I soaked up the broth with the bread, and was offered a second helping. I couldn’t quite understand the name of the soup, but was told it was a recipe learned from his father…and will hopefully be passed on when he has a family. This was my second meal at their apartment-and I am always impressed with their sense of formality (the table set, sitting to eat together) combined with an appreciation for making food and eating it as well-always accompanied by wine and laughter. I feel at home here.

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Photos

Il Leono-Argenteria (Silver working)
On this lathe, this craftsman takes a flat disk of silver and pushes and pulls it to form the shape of a bowl around a base of metal, and then a second time more precisely around a base of wood.

Il Leono-Argenteria (Silver working)
Both dirty scraps and newly worked, bright pieces lay awaiting attention in transition from death to birth and back again...

Fratelli Ciulli-3 generations of forging, casting all types of lighting fixtures
On the wall are the molds, to the left is the pile of clay used to make these EARTHEN casts, on the right are the "male" and "female" parts that hold the clay and mold together.

our italian class
i think the early morning hours prevented anyone from wanting to stand up for this photo....