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The Mountains
This shot is taken from my bedroom window. Not too far off in the distance, you can see the mountains. I suppose that my adventure began when I was still packing my stuff the morning I was leaving from the Lincoln airport. But there was definitely a difference once I was out of the comfort zone of airports and taxi rides. That’s when it started to sink in that I’m in a new country.
Anna dropped me off and gave me a tour of my apartment. It is great! It is located off of a winding road north (I think it’s north) of campus and it is perched on top of a steep driveway. Behind the apartment are mountains. There are four buildings that are set tightly around a center courtyard of sorts. My building has about a half dozen apartments in it. I’m on the second of three floors. The owners have another building as their home. The third building houses a small restaurant that is only open on the weekends. And the fourth building appears to be some sort of barn. Next to the gravel parking lot is a fenced area with ducks. I’ve heard that pasta with duck sauce is a local specialty in this region. So I’m trying not to get too attached to the ducks.
The Back Alley
This is another shot from my bedroom window. It looks down a winding alley that runs behind my apartment. The streets in Paderno are not that much wider. I have a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. Even though I think the buildings themselves are quite old, they appear to be quite modernized on the inside. I have new plaster walls, exposed beam ceilings, ceramic tile floors, and a modern bathroom. It’s nice. I think my favorite part is the windows. They have window sills deep enough to sit on and working wood shutters. There are two in the kitchen, living room, and both bedrooms. When the shutters are closed the apartment is so dark; when they are open, the rooms flood with light. So nice.
When Anna left, I followed her back to campus so I could get something to eat at the school cafeteria. I had wrongly assumed that people at the school would all speak English. So I had my first encounter with not knowing the language enough to get around. I had gone to the correct building to find the cafeteria, but it wasn’t on the first floor as the map said. (Later I learned that first floor means basement.) So I asked someone (a teacher?) in the hall. After some makeshift sign language, he pointed me in the right
In My Window
I have eight of these windows in my apartment. There is no real window frame. But the sill-like opening is deep enough to sit in. And they have real wood shutters. direction. There, I loaded up on carbs: pesto pasta, potatoes, cheese and bread. I really didn’t see any vegetables as options. Maybe it was a function of arriving just before lunch was over.
The woman in the cafeteria—who also spoke only Italian—showed me to the faculty dining area. There, a group of teachers was eating. But they weren’t CIMBA instructors. They were teachers for the Italian elementary students who were dining in the other room. One of the instructors spoke English. He poured me a glass of wine. (Mmmm… wine with lunch. Now that’s the way to start an Italian adventure!) They were celebrating another teacher’s birthday. So he suggested I give the birthday boy a kiss. How could I not? I suppose I could have busted out some of the Italian I know: “Quanti anni hai?” (or “How old are you?”), but decided against it. First of all, it’s probably not polite to ask someone that question once they are past a certain age (and I’m guessing the birthday boy was in his 50s). Second, I can only count to 12 in Italian. So I wouldn’t understand his answer anyway.
After lunch, I went back to the apartment to unpack and settle in. With that task taken care of, I decided to head into one of the neighboring towns, Fonte, to pick up some groceries. I went to the “mall” there. It had a small grocery/Family Dollar-style store, a cheap shoe store, a clothing store, a kids clothing store, and a store of things that “plug in” (think part Radio Shack, part household appliance aisle at Wal-Mart). And the whole thing was about the size of a small Target. I’m bad enough as it is at grocery shopping. I’m even worse when it comes to shopping in Italian. Not only that, but the food here is much different from I’m used to. For example, one of the popular items appeared to be a mix of shrimp, clams, chopped up octopus tentacles, and other objects I could not identify. I’m just not sure what I would do with that. Or if I would even want to.
After bringing the groceries back to the house, I still wasn’t tired. It was a beautiful, sunny day. So I decided to go out for a drive. My first order of business was to figure out how the GPS works. The second order of business was to figure out what my address is. Probably a good piece of information to know. Strangely, it was not written down anywhere. Luckily, because my apartment also has that restaurant attached to it, there was a sign out front with its address. Yay! First problem solved. That left me wondering where to drive. So I plugged in Asolo, which is the town where the graduate campus is located. And then off I went.
I can honestly say that the countryside is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The hills are amazing. They are so green and lush. And the land is dotted with vineyards, old farm houses, ancient art and architecture, cathedrals that rise out of nowhere, winding roads, small farm fields, animals, cobblestone, mountains, and more. Probably the best thing about it is that there is no sight of any chain-based businesses—and very few businesses at that.
Asolo is breathtaking. And the narrow streets are potentially treacherous. It’s like driving through narrow cobblestone alleyways… but at relatively high speeds and with someone tailgating you because you’re not going fast enough. I cannot wait to learn enough Italian (or find someone who knows) so I can go back and try out some of the quaint restaurants I saw along the way.
After Asolo, I drove to the Mount Grappa trail, which was a destination already programmed into the GPS. This, too, was spectacular. I’ll save all the details for a later point. But all I could say when I neared the top—meaning the top of the
paved part of the road—was “Oh wow, oh wow” because I could see from there what I could not see from a lower vantage point: The sky was dotted with the colorful silks of more than a half dozen para-sailers. How utterly amazing.
Eventually I meandered closer back home and started searching for something to eat. It was getting late and I was just about ready to call it a night. Unfortunately, restaurants are a little hard to come by in this area. I ended up going to a tabacchi shop across from campus a picking up a few more staples (I only got breakfast food at the grocery store). And because selection was limited, I was only able to get stuff for PB&J sandwiches and hot tea. So I headed home, changed into my Huskers T-shirt and sweatpants and was about to settle in for the night when there was a knock on my door.
The person who greeted me was Tim, the former director of the CIMBA program and a faculty member in the summer program. He invited me to dinner with his wife, Julie, son Matthew, and two grandchildren. Both Julie and Matt also teach in the program. Because they are regulars, they had a spot chosen already. So we went back down to Fonte for pizza. Julie is quite fluent in Italian, so she did most of the talking. Matt also seems to know quite a bit of Italian, too.
It was great to be out. And I was glad to have pizza instead of a sandwich. But by the time I got home, I was ready to drop. What a day!
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Donna
non-member comment
"anni vs. ani"
Good thing you didn't ask the birthday boy "quanti anni hai?" because we Americans can make the mistake of not pronouncing both n's in "anni" and we say "ani" which means "anuses" in Italian. Can you imagine asking, "How many anuses do you have?"???? I asked that 35 years ago! LOL! Enjoy the trip!