Friday, July 1, 2011
Day 7 Contest Winner!
Announcing the winner of my first (or possibly only) contest....... BETH! Thanks to everyone who entered!
Day 8: How NOT to Make Breakfast
Tuesday, June 28
I know how much you all enjoyed my first cooking post, so I decided to do another one. Hooray! I woke up at 7 AM, and unable to fall back into a delightful slumber, dragged myself out of bed to eat. (Pretty much the reason I get out of bed most mornings.)
How NOT to Make Breakfast
Step 1: Gather your ingredients. (If you don't have uova, you can just use eggs.)
Step 2: Conquer stove again. (Be super proud of yourself.) Put a little chunk of butter in the pan. Set pan on burner. While butter is melting, use remaining butter to spread on both sides of two slices of bread. If you have any butter left over, you did this part wrong.
Step 3: Crack your egg(s) into the pan. Finish buttering the bread and realize your eggs are burning.
Step 4: Quickly pour them onto a plate and hope they can be saved. Place your bread in the same pan.
Step 5: Taste the eggs and decide they are no good. Throw away eggs. Run back to the stove and flip your bread. Realize you burnt that, too.
Step 6: Weigh your options. Decide you will try to eat burnt toast, because you really love toast.
Step 7: Eat one piece. Admit that second piece is too burnt to eat. Even with weird Italian milk.
Step 8: Throw away toast. Get a yogurt from the fridge. (There's pretty much no way you can screw up this part.)
Step 9: Enjoy yourhomemade breakfast!
Baci di Roma!!
There's still time to enter in my contest! Go to Day 7 for more info. The prize is super sweet, y'all!
I know how much you all enjoyed my first cooking post, so I decided to do another one. Hooray! I woke up at 7 AM, and unable to fall back into a delightful slumber, dragged myself out of bed to eat. (Pretty much the reason I get out of bed most mornings.)
How NOT to Make Breakfast
Step 1: Gather your ingredients. (If you don't have uova, you can just use eggs.)
Step 2: Conquer stove again. (Be super proud of yourself.) Put a little chunk of butter in the pan. Set pan on burner. While butter is melting, use remaining butter to spread on both sides of two slices of bread. If you have any butter left over, you did this part wrong.
Step 3: Crack your egg(s) into the pan. Finish buttering the bread and realize your eggs are burning.
Step 4: Quickly pour them onto a plate and hope they can be saved. Place your bread in the same pan.
Step 5: Taste the eggs and decide they are no good. Throw away eggs. Run back to the stove and flip your bread. Realize you burnt that, too.
Step 6: Weigh your options. Decide you will try to eat burnt toast, because you really love toast.
Step 7: Eat one piece. Admit that second piece is too burnt to eat. Even with weird Italian milk.
Step 8: Throw away toast. Get a yogurt from the fridge. (There's pretty much no way you can screw up this part.)
Step 9: Enjoy your
Baci di Roma!!
There's still time to enter in my contest! Go to Day 7 for more info. The prize is super sweet, y'all!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Day 7 - Walk a Mile in My Shoes (and a contest!)
Monday, June 27
At Francesca's encouragement, I took a walk to a nice shopping area today. By "nice" what she really meant was "out of my price range." Like, five times what I can afford to spend on necklaces and sandals. Anyway, I headed out with a few necessities in mind. Bus/metro tickets and nail polish remover. Seriously, they are important things, guys!
The first place I stopped was a profumeria, which is pretty much just the cosmetics/hair product sections of a drug store. I enjoyed the air conditioning in there while pretending to browse around. After a few minutes, I bought my nail polish remover and headed back out to the street.
My other main purchase goal was bus/metro tickets, which are not sold at bus stops, but at tabaccheria, or tobacco shops. I don't really know if there's a good reason for that, other than to annoy me by making me walk all over the place to find an open shop. Eventually found one and stopped in to buy six tickets, each one good for 75 minutes from the time you get it stamped on your first bus or metro ride. (And you don't want to get caught without one, apparently they can charge you up to €500 for riding the bus without a ticket!!!)
Francesca had also suggested I invest in a good map, which are available atnews stands newsstands stands that sell magazines and newspapers. I asked the lady, "parla inglese?" She said "No." So I asked, "Mappa?" and she replied "That's the only word I know in English." Ugh, these Italians make me crazy sometimes. She gave me this giant folder, with fold out maps on each side. I asked for a smaller one, which she understood, apparently, because she handed me a quite nice, reasonably priced, laminated type map that would easily fit in my bag. I purchased that one and wandered off in search of some food.
Just across the street, I found a little shop selling sandwiches and pastries and drinks. I already had a full bottle of water with me, so I just purchased a sandwich that looked appetizing.
At Francesca's encouragement, I took a walk to a nice shopping area today. By "nice" what she really meant was "out of my price range." Like, five times what I can afford to spend on necklaces and sandals. Anyway, I headed out with a few necessities in mind. Bus/metro tickets and nail polish remover. Seriously, they are important things, guys!
The first place I stopped was a profumeria, which is pretty much just the cosmetics/hair product sections of a drug store. I enjoyed the air conditioning in there while pretending to browse around. After a few minutes, I bought my nail polish remover and headed back out to the street.
My other main purchase goal was bus/metro tickets, which are not sold at bus stops, but at tabaccheria, or tobacco shops. I don't really know if there's a good reason for that, other than to annoy me by making me walk all over the place to find an open shop. Eventually found one and stopped in to buy six tickets, each one good for 75 minutes from the time you get it stamped on your first bus or metro ride. (And you don't want to get caught without one, apparently they can charge you up to €500 for riding the bus without a ticket!!!)
Francesca had also suggested I invest in a good map, which are available at
Just across the street, I found a little shop selling sandwiches and pastries and drinks. I already had a full bottle of water with me, so I just purchased a sandwich that looked appetizing.
(panino with some kind of meat, some green leafy stuff, and some kind of cheese.)
After my sandwich and some people watching, I decided to head back to the apartment. (I had returned Margherita's house key to her, so the I had to come back before she left for the evening.) When I got back, Frederico (the painter) had finished Diletta's room and was preparing to move all her things from the dining room (where I was staying) to her newly re-done bedroom. He and Margherita moved the (king-sized) bed and the desk, with a little help from me, though I mostly just stood around feeling helpless. Then they set up Angi's old (twin-sized) daybed in the dining room for me. I spent 20+ years sleeping in twin beds, but to go from a king one day to a twin the next is... pretty much a bummer.
If you've stuck with the boring part, you deserve a prize! If you actually read all that crap ^^^ you should know that I purchased nail polish remover, 6 bus/metro tickets, a map, and a sandwich. Here's where your work comes in: The first person to put the FOUR items in order from cheapest to most expensive will receive a special prize from Italy! I've included this picture, which probably won't help at all.
THE RULES: Contest will end on Friday, July 1st, 2011 at 6 pm Italy time (12 noon Ohio time). If you are not currently in either of those time zones, you may have to do some math. You may enter a guess only once. If you guess more than once, you will be disqualified. Ummm... I think that's it, don't be difficult, you know how contests work. Good luck!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Day 6: The One Where I Try to Cook
Sunday, June 26
Many Americans make Italian food at home. Not many Americans have made Italian food IN Italy. (Although now you're thinking, "Sara, they just call it 'food' there." Well, actually they call it cibo (chee-boh), so ha!) Anyway, this is going to be another picture-heavy/word-light post. Hope you all don't mind. I'll try to be funny tomorrow, okay?
How To Make Dinner When You Are In Someone Else's Home Completely Alone (and Everything is in a Foreign Language)
Step 1: Meet the Enemy. Ciao, Enemy, mi chiamo Sara. Just a little FYI, I am about to conquer you.
Step 4: Admire chosen pasta and pot.
Step 5: Add water to pot, until about three-quarters full. (Not pictured. You've all seen water, I'm pretty sure.)
Step 6: Place on burner of appropriate size (or just pick one you like.)
Step 7: TURN ON BURNER (Do NOT skip this step!)
Step 8: Don't look at the pot, water, or stove for approximately ten minutes. During this time, you may choose to make yourself a tasty salad.
Step 9: That is not a salad. That's just lettuce. ADD STUFF. (I added olive oil, freshly ground pepper, and some salt. If you add salt from an un-marked container like I did, you may want to taste a little bit first, to be sure it is not sugar. If you choose to live dangerously, I will not be held liable, and may laugh at you when you eat a sugar salad.)
Step 10: Also, whenever you are cooking, you should always add cheese. Unless you are vegan. And then you should add bacon AND cheese.
Step 11: If you are a crouton freak, add croutons to salad. If you are not a crouton freak, add them anyway, and then consider yourself lucky you have someone in your life who cares about your salad experience.
Step 12: Check water because it's about to boil over. Put in pasta. Cook pasta according to directions on package. If you cannot read the directions because they are in a foreign language, taste a noodle every 2 minutes or so, until you are full or you think they are the right amount of done-ness. Do NOT, under any circumstances, set a timer. Eat your salad while the pasta cooks. (Not pictured. Way too many things to fit in one picture.)
Step 13: Look in fridge to find something to put on cooked pasta. Stand in front of open fridge, enjoying the cool air, until the robot fridge beeps at you for keeping the door open. Shake your fist at the robot fridge.
Step 14: Decide on some sauce di pomodoro. Wish that you had a microwave available to warm the sauce. Drain the cooked pasta, it's probably done by now, and if it isn't, you'll eat it anyway.
Step 15: Spoon (or pour, your choice!) some sauce into the hot pasta pan and stir it all up. Let it sit for a minute so the hot pasta has some time to warm the cold sauce. Taste some to be sure it's okay before you take a whole plate of it. Put some onto your plate, or just eat it straight from the pot. Either way, be sure to shred some parmigiano on top.
Step 16: Revel in your success! Buon appetito!
Baci di Roma!!
Hope you enjoyed my first ever cooking post! Tune in tomorrow for a contest! With a prize! YOU could win!
Many Americans make Italian food at home. Not many Americans have made Italian food IN Italy. (Although now you're thinking, "Sara, they just call it 'food' there." Well, actually they call it cibo (chee-boh), so ha!) Anyway, this is going to be another picture-heavy/word-light post. Hope you all don't mind. I'll try to be funny tomorrow, okay?
How To Make Dinner When You Are In Someone Else's Home Completely Alone (and Everything is in a Foreign Language)
Step 1: Meet the Enemy. Ciao, Enemy, mi chiamo Sara. Just a little FYI, I am about to conquer you.
(Enemy/gas stove)
Step 2: Select pasta from drawer of never ending pasta choices.
Step 3: Select pot or pan in which to cook pasta from drawer o' pans.
Step 4: Admire chosen pasta and pot.
Step 5: Add water to pot, until about three-quarters full. (Not pictured. You've all seen water, I'm pretty sure.)
Step 6: Place on burner of appropriate size (or just pick one you like.)
Step 7: TURN ON BURNER (Do NOT skip this step!)
Step 8: Don't look at the pot, water, or stove for approximately ten minutes. During this time, you may choose to make yourself a tasty salad.
Step 9: That is not a salad. That's just lettuce. ADD STUFF. (I added olive oil, freshly ground pepper, and some salt. If you add salt from an un-marked container like I did, you may want to taste a little bit first, to be sure it is not sugar. If you choose to live dangerously, I will not be held liable, and may laugh at you when you eat a sugar salad.)
Step 10: Also, whenever you are cooking, you should always add cheese. Unless you are vegan. And then you should add bacon AND cheese.
Step 11: If you are a crouton freak, add croutons to salad. If you are not a crouton freak, add them anyway, and then consider yourself lucky you have someone in your life who cares about your salad experience.
Step 12: Check water because it's about to boil over. Put in pasta. Cook pasta according to directions on package. If you cannot read the directions because they are in a foreign language, taste a noodle every 2 minutes or so, until you are full or you think they are the right amount of done-ness. Do NOT, under any circumstances, set a timer. Eat your salad while the pasta cooks. (Not pictured. Way too many things to fit in one picture.)
Step 13: Look in fridge to find something to put on cooked pasta. Stand in front of open fridge, enjoying the cool air, until the robot fridge beeps at you for keeping the door open. Shake your fist at the robot fridge.
Step 14: Decide on some sauce di pomodoro. Wish that you had a microwave available to warm the sauce. Drain the cooked pasta, it's probably done by now, and if it isn't, you'll eat it anyway.
Step 15: Spoon (or pour, your choice!) some sauce into the hot pasta pan and stir it all up. Let it sit for a minute so the hot pasta has some time to warm the cold sauce. Taste some to be sure it's okay before you take a whole plate of it. Put some onto your plate, or just eat it straight from the pot. Either way, be sure to shred some parmigiano on top.
Step 16: Revel in your success! Buon appetito!
Baci di Roma!!
Hope you enjoyed my first ever cooking post! Tune in tomorrow for a contest! With a prize! YOU could win!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Day 5
Saturday, June 25
Woke up bright and early to see Francesca and Angi before they left for Sardinia. I felt slightly better about the amount of STUFF I brought to Rome when I saw Francesca's suitcase was almost the size of mine. And they're only going to be gone for... 4 nights. And I'll be here... 36 nights total (or something like that).
After a while I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood; y'know, get to know my surroundings. In order to do so, I had to to first close all 14 windows in the apartment. I've included an accurate, scale drawing* for your viewing pleasure, and so you may better grasp the daunting task I had ahead of me:
As you can see, it was no small feat. I finally got out of the apartment, remembering to set the alarm with the remote after I had locked the front door, and I headed out for my walk. Being that it was approximately 19:00, on a sabato evening, I wasn't surprised when all the stores and shops were closed. It was anice, relaxing hot, sweat-inducing walk anyway.
When I returned to the apartment building, I decided I would take a few photos to share with mymany adoring fans few begrudging family members out there on the interwebs! First, the simple (but very pretty) marble entry of the building.
And after two levels, we arrive at the door to the apartment; so festive, with its "welcome" bunny!
If we go out of the couch room, straight across the entry way, through the glass doors, make a right after the bathroom and then look left, we see the beautiful and quite modern kitchen, complete with new LG fridge that has water and ice in the door! IN ENGLISH!!! I feel right at home in the kitchen, for now anyway...
Next is a photo from the terrace of the couch room. SPQR Mercato. Haven't been in there yet, I just wanted to show a brief example of Italian "road rules." Basically there aren't any. Every vehicle shown in this photo is parked, with no one in them. I've seen way worse than this, too.
Finally, I'll leave you with a photo looking down off the terrace, into two large patios. Lovely. And completely terrifying.
Baci di Roma!!
*Not extremely accurate. Definitely not to scale.
Woke up bright and early to see Francesca and Angi before they left for Sardinia. I felt slightly better about the amount of STUFF I brought to Rome when I saw Francesca's suitcase was almost the size of mine. And they're only going to be gone for... 4 nights. And I'll be here... 36 nights total (or something like that).
After a while I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood; y'know, get to know my surroundings. In order to do so, I had to to first close all 14 windows in the apartment. I've included an accurate, scale drawing* for your viewing pleasure, and so you may better grasp the daunting task I had ahead of me:
As you can see, it was no small feat. I finally got out of the apartment, remembering to set the alarm with the remote after I had locked the front door, and I headed out for my walk. Being that it was approximately 19:00, on a sabato evening, I wasn't surprised when all the stores and shops were closed. It was a
When I returned to the apartment building, I decided I would take a few photos to share with my
Next we have the lovely lift, barely large enough to hold me and my suitcase... and to the left/ in the foreground, the stairs I take because at the moment, the buttons on my shorts cannot afford me taking lifts.
And then... in all my excitement to get inside, have some water, take some pictures and put up my feet... I opened the door without turning off the alarm! (Not pictured is my heart exploding out of my chest and my eardrums bursting as the alarm screams inside my brain.) I pushed the button on the remote once, and the alarm slowed, but was still wailing. Pushing it a second and third time seemed to do the trick, though, as no polizia ever showed up, and the phone didn't ring with some Italian security company asking me what was going on... Between the walk, the stairs, and the alarm, I decided my heart need a rest before continuing on my photo journey of the apartment. So I had a glass of water and then continued where I left off.
Where were we? Oh, right, the entry way. So here's that. I am standing just inside the front door, and you'll notice there are two sets of doors visible, another in the back on the left (behind the construction stuff) and a fourth set to my immediate left, just out of the frame. If you refer back to exhibit A, the floor plan, you may be able to determine that the solid doors straight ahead lead to Angi's room, and the glass panel doors to the right lead to more bedrooms and the kitchen.
The doors on the back left take us to the living room (or family room, I never remember which is which, but they only have this one couch room, we'll just call it the couch room, okay? Okay.) which is quite lovely and large, just difficult to photograph.
Finally, I'll leave you with a photo looking down off the terrace, into two large patios. Lovely. And completely terrifying.
Baci di Roma!!
*Not extremely accurate. Definitely not to scale.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Day 4 (No, seriously, I thought I was supposed to be doing work)
Friday, June 24
Repeat of Wednesday. Except Angi slept in and then watched cartoons, which meant that I could sleep in and then... sleep in some more. Around noon, Margherita picked us up and took us over to the club for lunch and pool related things. I really need to take more fotografie, especially of the food, but the country club people would think I was nuts if I whipped out my camera... it's quite a fine establishment.
From 13:00-15:00 (1-3 pm, Americans, get with the program), children under 12 are only permitted in the tiny pool down the hill (and stairs) and hidden away behind some trees. The rather large pool is reserved for some kind of grown-up swimming lesson or practice, where the coach is a nice looking young man who stands at the edge of the pool and never gets in. So that's nice. There are about a dozen people in the class, with only one or two women. Also, all the men wear tiny Speedo costumi (swimming suits). Did I mention that already? No? Well they do. And they wear them well. After swimming practice, they all get out of the pool and stand around chatting in their Speedos. And most of them have plush, comfy looking robes they slip on, or a normal to small sized towel they wrap around their waists as they TAKE OFF THEIR SWIMMING SUITS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CLUB!!! What the WHAT??!?! There are locker rooms like 10 meters away!* It's just, like, what is this, some kind of country where people have no morals and walk around half naked all the time?!?! And the WOMEN! Certain people** in the states would pass out if they saw what these women were wearing at the pool. In plain sight of fully grown men and small children, no less!
Anyway, after a long afternoon at the pool, we made it home and I did some reading and map studying while Francesca packed... for their 5 day trip to Sardinia, leaving TOMORROW MORNING! Ummm, what am I supposed to do in their apartment? in Rome? for five days? by myself?? AHHH!!!
Baci di Roma!!
*I really have no idea how long a meter is, how long 10 meters are, or where the locker rooms are actually located. I only know there ARE locker rooms because occasionally a man will join his family on the lawn in a fancy suit, fresh from the office, then disappear into the building for approximately 2.5 minutes, and return wearing... wait for it.... a SPEEDO. But that's neither here nor there, and not the point of the anecdote. Also, meter vs. metre: which one is longer? or is it like that optical illusion where one looks longer, but they are really just the same size?
**By certain people, I mean everyone. Like, even you.
Repeat of Wednesday. Except Angi slept in and then watched cartoons, which meant that I could sleep in and then... sleep in some more. Around noon, Margherita picked us up and took us over to the club for lunch and pool related things. I really need to take more fotografie, especially of the food, but the country club people would think I was nuts if I whipped out my camera... it's quite a fine establishment.
From 13:00-15:00 (1-3 pm, Americans, get with the program), children under 12 are only permitted in the tiny pool down the hill (and stairs) and hidden away behind some trees. The rather large pool is reserved for some kind of grown-up swimming lesson or practice, where the coach is a nice looking young man who stands at the edge of the pool and never gets in. So that's nice. There are about a dozen people in the class, with only one or two women. Also, all the men wear tiny Speedo costumi (swimming suits). Did I mention that already? No? Well they do. And they wear them well. After swimming practice, they all get out of the pool and stand around chatting in their Speedos. And most of them have plush, comfy looking robes they slip on, or a normal to small sized towel they wrap around their waists as they TAKE OFF THEIR SWIMMING SUITS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CLUB!!! What the WHAT??!?! There are locker rooms like 10 meters away!* It's just, like, what is this, some kind of country where people have no morals and walk around half naked all the time?!?! And the WOMEN! Certain people** in the states would pass out if they saw what these women were wearing at the pool. In plain sight of fully grown men and small children, no less!
Anyway, after a long afternoon at the pool, we made it home and I did some reading and map studying while Francesca packed... for their 5 day trip to Sardinia, leaving TOMORROW MORNING! Ummm, what am I supposed to do in their apartment? in Rome? for five days? by myself?? AHHH!!!
Baci di Roma!!
*I really have no idea how long a meter is, how long 10 meters are, or where the locker rooms are actually located. I only know there ARE locker rooms because occasionally a man will join his family on the lawn in a fancy suit, fresh from the office, then disappear into the building for approximately 2.5 minutes, and return wearing... wait for it.... a SPEEDO. But that's neither here nor there, and not the point of the anecdote. Also, meter vs. metre: which one is longer? or is it like that optical illusion where one looks longer, but they are really just the same size?
**By certain people, I mean everyone. Like, even you.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Days 2 & 3 (or When does the job part happen?)
June 22
On mercoledì morning, Angi and I played camping and built a fort in the living room. The (special-push-button-completely-room-blackening) shades were drawn and she had a mini flashlight she kept shining in my eyes. How am I going to see Rome if I am blind? Ugh. I cleaned up most of the "tent" and camping supplies, including the rocking horse, who was supposed to be keeping watch and barking if anyone was coming, but he failed miserably when Margherita arrived and scared us both out of our skins. (Yes, you read that last sentence correctly, but go ahead and re-read it, I can wait.)
Around 12:30, Francesca came to retrieve us and take us to the club to swim. (I think it's like a country club as it seemed quite exclusive, but it's in the city so should I call it a city club?) Angi ran around and swam in the pools with her friend Virginia (which they all pronounce Wir-GEE-nee-ya) and I lounged on the lawn, attempting to read but mostly watching all the Italians from behind my sunglasses. Margherita came to pick us up later, and somehow managed to get Virginia, her little brother, their grandmother, and Angi in the backseat of her tiny car, which also contained a large car seat for her two-year old son.
After a delicious dinner of roasted pollo e potate, Angi began my Italian lessons. You guys think I am a stickler for language, you haven't seen anything!!! She made me repeat every. single. word. over. and. over!
Angi: Foto.
Me: Photo.
Angi: FOTO.
Me: PHOTO.
Angi: O! O! O!
Me: O! O! O!
Angi: puts her head in her hands, thinking this is hopeless.
Me: Foto?
Angi: Si! Si!
(Multiply above exchange at least a dozen more times, replacing foto with tavolo, sale, pesca, etc.)
June 23
Today Angi went to the sea with her father. (Basically I haven't done any real work yet, and I'm not sure that I will any time soon, but we'll get to that...) I lounged, internetted, read, took an accidental nap, and then eventually got dressed and left the apartment. Francesca had given me directions on how to get to her office on foot, and promised to print me some maps so I could learn the area. I set out, asking Margherita and Frederico, the painter, to lock the door after me, although since I only speak English and they only speak Italian, it was quite difficult.
Margherita? Frederico? umm... I'm leaving now... (motion with hands toward door) could one of you, either one, lock the door? umm, la porta? (turning motion pretending to lock the door)
Ahh, Si, si! Ciao!
Oh, grazie! Ciao!
Luckily, the walk was quick and uneventful. The office is air-conditioned (mental note to return for even the slightest reason, done and done) and quite lovely overall; Francesca led me through the meeting room with its grand table and floor to ceiling shelves filled with law books. Her secretary copied some maps for me, and they sent me on my way to Villa Borgese.
I set off on my merry way, completely unaware that my life was about to change in the most drastic way possible: In a matter of mere moments, I would become a... wait for it... jaywalker. Now wait just one minute and let me defend myself before you get all judgy, Italian traffic is SO crazy, and if you don't make a run for it when there's a break, you'll never make it across!* Anyway, I dodged cars and buses and Vespas left and right, only stopping to drink some water or discreetly check my maps, and finally made it to the park.
After walking (what probably wasn't very far but seemed like) manymiles kilometers, I was half exhausted, so I got some gelato and sat on a bench in a dog park to relax. Thank goodness dogs bark in English, it was nice to hear some familiar sounds! Some time later (I should probably buy a watch) I managed to find my way back to the apartment before Margherita was off for the evening (I don't have a key...) and spent the evening recapping my adventure-less adventure.
Baci di Roma!!
*This statement is not proof that I crossed a street outside of a legally marked crosswalk, and is not intended to be used as evidence in a court of law.
On mercoledì morning, Angi and I played camping and built a fort in the living room. The (special-push-button-completely-room-blackening) shades were drawn and she had a mini flashlight she kept shining in my eyes. How am I going to see Rome if I am blind? Ugh. I cleaned up most of the "tent" and camping supplies, including the rocking horse, who was supposed to be keeping watch and barking if anyone was coming, but he failed miserably when Margherita arrived and scared us both out of our skins. (Yes, you read that last sentence correctly, but go ahead and re-read it, I can wait.)
Around 12:30, Francesca came to retrieve us and take us to the club to swim. (I think it's like a country club as it seemed quite exclusive, but it's in the city so should I call it a city club?) Angi ran around and swam in the pools with her friend Virginia (which they all pronounce Wir-GEE-nee-ya) and I lounged on the lawn, attempting to read but mostly watching all the Italians from behind my sunglasses. Margherita came to pick us up later, and somehow managed to get Virginia, her little brother, their grandmother, and Angi in the backseat of her tiny car, which also contained a large car seat for her two-year old son.
After a delicious dinner of roasted pollo e potate, Angi began my Italian lessons. You guys think I am a stickler for language, you haven't seen anything!!! She made me repeat every. single. word. over. and. over!
Angi: Foto.
Me: Photo.
Angi: FOTO.
Me: PHOTO.
Angi: O! O! O!
Me: O! O! O!
Angi: puts her head in her hands, thinking this is hopeless.
Me: Foto?
Angi: Si! Si!
(Multiply above exchange at least a dozen more times, replacing foto with tavolo, sale, pesca, etc.)
June 23
Today Angi went to the sea with her father. (Basically I haven't done any real work yet, and I'm not sure that I will any time soon, but we'll get to that...) I lounged, internetted, read, took an accidental nap, and then eventually got dressed and left the apartment. Francesca had given me directions on how to get to her office on foot, and promised to print me some maps so I could learn the area. I set out, asking Margherita and Frederico, the painter, to lock the door after me, although since I only speak English and they only speak Italian, it was quite difficult.
Margherita? Frederico? umm... I'm leaving now... (motion with hands toward door) could one of you, either one, lock the door? umm, la porta? (turning motion pretending to lock the door)
Ahh, Si, si! Ciao!
Oh, grazie! Ciao!
Luckily, the walk was quick and uneventful. The office is air-conditioned (mental note to return for even the slightest reason, done and done) and quite lovely overall; Francesca led me through the meeting room with its grand table and floor to ceiling shelves filled with law books. Her secretary copied some maps for me, and they sent me on my way to Villa Borgese.
I set off on my merry way, completely unaware that my life was about to change in the most drastic way possible: In a matter of mere moments, I would become a... wait for it... jaywalker. Now wait just one minute and let me defend myself before you get all judgy, Italian traffic is SO crazy, and if you don't make a run for it when there's a break, you'll never make it across!* Anyway, I dodged cars and buses and Vespas left and right, only stopping to drink some water or discreetly check my maps, and finally made it to the park.
After walking (what probably wasn't very far but seemed like) many
Baci di Roma!!
*This statement is not proof that I crossed a street outside of a legally marked crosswalk, and is not intended to be used as evidence in a court of law.
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