Treviso Politics: Sheriff Gentilini?

It was almost a year ago today when I arrived in Treviso and marveled at the sheer perfection of what would be my home for the next year. Cobblestones so clean they glistened, store fronts gleaming with class and color, people dressed so meticulously that I felt the sudden and immediate urge to revamp my entire wardrobe with designer labels.

It was also about a year ago when I first learned of Giancarlo Gentilini, the Vice Mayor of Treviso who is largely responsible for the city's image of pefection. At first I thought it admirable for a man to make such valiant strides to clean up a city and make it safe. But after learning of Gentilini's statements supporting ethic cleansing and denouncing homosexuality I quickly realized that so-called "perfection" comes at a cost.

One year later Gentilini's got a new ridiculous nickname, "The Sheriff," and is not surprisingly back in the press. Seems Islamic scholars don't like his nickname or his crusade against immigrants and this week they've issued a fatwa in reaction.

This video from WorldFocus.org gives a good overview of the ongoing immigration debate that plagues Treviso and many other Northern Italian cities.

I was lucky to have met people in Treviso who were proof that homogeny, apperance and wealth aren't the only fundamentals important to the Trevigani. My hope is that, with time and pressure from more world leaders, Gentilini will step out of the dark ages and see the light...in all its brilliant colors.

Ombralonga: An Italian "Wine Crawl"

Each October, wine lovers pour into the sleepy city of Treviso by the tens of thousands for one of Italy's most festive enogastronomic events, the Ombralonga.

Ombra literally means shadow but in Venetian dialect an ombra is a glass of wine, and there isn't a shadow of doubt that Ombralonga's partiers are serious about their vino. But they have good reason to be. The Veneto region is brimming with incredible vineyards that produce Prosecco, Soave and Veneto's biggest red, Amarone, from the Valley of Valpolicella.

Le Ombre

This year, the Ombralonga is at 10am on Sunday, October 19. Upon arrival you'll pay €10 for all the day's essentials: a cup, a cup-holder that you wear around your neck, a map of the historic city center, an apron, and a spork. Yes, a spork.

And you're off. Go at your own pace as you meander in and out of the city's osterie and enoteche which all offer local wines paired with typical Trevigano dishes, including polenta and risotto with radicchio and porchetta trevigiana.

Piazza dei Signori

Piazza Borsa and Piazza dei Signori will likely be the best places to mingle with other young revelers, listen to music, and witness the true (and often drunken) spectacle of Ombralonga. From Piazza dei Signori follow the crowds down the narrow Vicolo Barberia to Osteria dalla Gigia for the best mozzarella in carozza you've ever tasted. Gooey mozzarella cheese deep-fried between two pieces of oily bread and served piping hot. It complements any wine buzz and is the perfect way to complete this traditional and tasty tour of Treviso.

[Photos: La Tribuna di Treviso]

It's pretty much my favorite animal...

There might not be any ligers roaming around Italy but there's an uncanny Napolean Dymamite look-a-like loose in Treviso. He was on the prowl at Amami last week and was scoring major points with the ladies (or maybe just me and Kelli).

He posed for photo after photo and, in his thick Italian accent, invited all the girls to, "toucha' ma afro," which I must admit was surprisingly well-maintained.

Unfortunatley he was too over-served (see photo below) to show off what I'm sure were fabulous dance moves. But I give the kid major props for embracing his dynamite style.
Just follow your heart. That's what I do.

Life in Treviso: Is it anything like NYC?

My mal di gola (sore throat) has me cooped up in bed with lots of spare time on my hands. And so instead of the usual day-trip to Venice, I spent this Saturday afternoon comparing my old life in New York City with my new life in Treviso. Not surprisingly, I have a long list of differences. I'll summarize as I know it's nearing the hour of cena (dinner) and I wouldn't want to you to miss out on the antipasti!

In New York I...

• Drank Starbucks iced coffee or Chai


• Spoke only English


• Rode the Subway


• Worked in a fast-paced, high-rise office in Times Square


• Saw celebrities and an occasional crime scene on my morning commute


• Lived in a small but lively apartment in the heart of Greenwich Village with an R&B singer and budding fashion designer


• Feared pasta


• Did yoga and was a faithful gym-goer


• Visited my family on the weekends (who I dearly miss)


• Was surrounded by diversity and open-mindedness

In Treviso I...

• Drink ONLY italian coffee. I wonder if I'll ever be able to stomach the "dirty water" again
  
• Speak mostly Italian, some English, and some Itaglish...if you are an expat in Italy you know what I mean. Some of the most common Italglish phrases are: and stop (basta), it's the same (è uguale) and as you prefer (come vuoi)


• Ride a bright yellow mountain bike


• Work in, on average, five different schools a week with Italian children ranging from age 5-20


• See white bunnies, billy goats, old villas and grandmas riding bicycles on my morning commute
  
• Live in a 7-bedroom family-owned flat with 2 doctors, 1 Spanish opera singer, and 3 other mid-20's Italians.


• Cook pasta


• Rely on bike riding and a busy lifestyle to stay fit (so far so good)


• Visit Venice, Verona, Asolo, Padova and soon Barcelona on the weekends


• marvel at the signs of racism that still linger in the minds of the local people. But there is hope: http://www.trevisocittaperta.net/

So to answer my own question, Treviso is NOTHING like New York City. I've pretty much done a complete 180° lifestyle change. Perhaps that's why I am so satsfied? I'm totally out of my element, seeing and learning something new every day. And you'd be amazed what little white bunnies and bike-riding grannies do for the soul.

Il Mondo Reale: Treviso

When I was 21, I was one of thousands of hopefuls who auditioned for MTV's The Real World (ok you can stop laughing now). I drove all the way up to Buffalo alone, filled out a 30-page application where I divulged way too many personal details, cried on camera about ex-boyfriends and made it to Round 3 before getting axed.

Thank God I was cut because the careers of our beloved Real World alums haven't proved too fruitful. Let's face it, shacking up in secluded tropical paradises with the likes of Tonya and Eric Neis, and competing season after season in the Battle of the Sexes Challenges isn't exactly the Hollywood Dream.

Though, little did I know I'd be living my very own version of Il Mondo Reale in Italy. Except we weren't picked to live in a house...we weren't type-casted by one of MTV's mastermind producers...we were just throw together by a stroke luck and in my case, a click of a mouse.

We're 5 strangers (not 7) with the potential to be 6 if this new German guys moves in, but we all hope he doesn't because, frankly, there's no more room in either of our two refrigerators for more food.

We don't have a confessional room in our house, but sit around the dining room table for an hour and you'll get enough juicy goss to fill a 30-minute episode.

Our pad isn't pimped out, but we do have 7 bedrooms, a fireplace that screams, "come cuddle next to me in a rocking chair," a sweet terrace, jacuzzi tub, loads of Italian Grandma knicknacks and sometimes we have heating.

So who are the other 4 characters?

We'll start with the only other girl in the house, Erica. She's super sweet but I think I've seen her for all of 20 minutes in the last two weeks. She works extremely long hours and we're kind of like two gondolas passing in the night. She went to Milan (her home town) last week to hear the Dali Lama speak and said it was incredibly inspiring. She likes minestrone soup and meditation.

Then there's Daniele, a 25-years-old graphic designer from Torino. He sometimes rocks cool wire-framed glasses (a very Italian fashion statement) and has a meticulously groomed goatee. He's a solid cook and has already whipped up a marvelous tiramisu, torta salata with pumpkin, and helped me prepare a risotto for my friend Stephanie's (pictured above) birthday last week. He has a killer playlist on his computer of Sigur Rós and Daft Punk, which I'm dying to download onto my IPOD. He also likes System of a Down, which I won't be downloading.


Next is Gianni, 27-years-old. He's very curious and takes the prize for best English speaker in the house (or most eager). He has strong political views and this weekend he participated in a 50,000 person protest against Bush's desired expansion of a U.S. military base in Vicenza. Despite his current anti-american sentiments we're in great accord when it comes to music, in fact, just yesterday I noticed a pre-birthday gift from Gianni sitting on my dresser...two Gotan Project cds!

And finally, Santi. He's from a small town in Spain but he's here in Treviso studying opera. He's got the face of a baby bear, but his voice packs enough power to knock you out with one blow. He didn't intend to become a tenor, but won a contest a few years back and is now on the fast track to stardom. He enjoys singing in the shower and has an infectious laugh. Here's Santi at our apartment seranading Stephanie with his rendition of Tanti Auguri:

And here's Stephanie. She's a vicina (neighbor), not a roommate but is a dear friend to me. She's 24, from Florida, and has signed on for a 2-year contract teaching at the International School in Treviso. Her boundless positivity and free spirit are refreshing, as is the fact that she's AMERICAN. She gets me...without any need for translation.

So that's it. That's my true story for the next 6 months...now let the drama unfold.

Snaps of Treviso

Life in Treviso is starting to feel more like home. I moved on Saturday and now live in a much bigger apartment with 7 bedrooms, a living room, huge terrace, fireplace and private bathroom. After two weeks of living out of my suitcases I finally unpacked. As my mom says, everything has a place now. It feels great.







It was a beautiful weekend - lots of sun and perfect cycling weather. My new apartment is just steps from a georgous riverside bike path with ducks, swans, seagulls and some other species of birds that I've never seen before. Biking in the city centre is bit more harrowing, as my bicycle lacks brakes and the roads are narrow and busy. But it's exhilirating to zip in and out of the piazzas and over the tiny bridges absorbing the sound of foreign language, the smells of coffee brewing and bread baking, the sights of children playing and old men discussing the week's news...it's overstimulation in the finest form.

This photo is in another small town called Badoere. I go there every Tuesday to teach four English lessons. Every week the bus lets me out in the center of this Rotonda just as the sun is rising over the rooftop. I breathe in the fresh morning air and revel in the solitarity. Once the bus has gone there is complete silence in the rotonda. It's breathtaking.

Guilty Pleasures

I have two guilty pleasures on my mind today: MySpace and chocolate. The former has to do with my new roommate, Gianni. He kindly let me check my email on his computer, where I noticed a link to MySpace. The social networking site, which has already exploded and somewhat fizzled in the U.S. due to the more user-friendly Facebook, is still on the rise here in Italy.

And with all new internet sites, there are bound to be some kinks.

As we were looking at Gianni's MySpace page I noticed the Relationship Status section and there it was in big promiscuious letters, "SWINGER"! Now don't get me wrong, I'm a very open minded person...whatever floats your boat. I thought, I can share a house with a swinger, no problem! At least I have my own bathroom in case there is an influx of overnight guests.

But as we were perusing Gianni's MySpace photos he just didn't strike me as the swinging type. So I ever so politely asked him about it...and herein lies the MySpace glitch:

In the Italian version of MySpace the relationship status, "spirito libero" implies
a free spirited person/single. But when MySpace Italia is translated into the English site, "spirito libero" defaults to SWINGER! I did some necessary (and quite enjoyable) blogging research and checked out dozens of Italian men's MySpace profiles only to find that, sure enough, MySpace has unintentionally created a cyber community of Italian swingers! I've gotta believe they are recieving some odd propositions in their MySpace inbox...

So I just wanted to set the record straight. All Italian MySpacer's are NOT swingers.

And on to my other guilty pleasure...chocolate. I'll have you know that I have yet to buy my first jar of Nutella (shocking, I know). But this weekend some even more tantalizing treats are taking over Treviso. Every piazza in the historical center is overflowing with vendors selling chocolate of every shape and size. Truffles, candies, bars...you name it.
My favorite is the cioccolata calda (hot chocolate). Nestles has nothing on this, my friends. This hot chocolate is indulgently creamy and gloriously gloppy. Just a small swig will give you your fix...it's heaven in cup.

MMmmmmm

An Italian Dinner Party

I have never experienced a dinner quite like Saturday's. It was an intimate gathering of 55 close friends at an agriturismo (a working farm that doubles as a hotel and restaurant) just outside the center of Roncade. I was graciously invited to the bi-annual festa by my friend Patrick who was also a tutor this summer. His host parents, Riccardo and Maria were the masterminds of what was one of the most hilarious and festive evenings I've ever had in Italy, and certainly one of the most memorable.









It began like any other Italian dinner - baskets of freshly baked bread placed on long rustic tables, and jugs of red wine poured into decievingly small glasses. Then came the antipasti - plates of polenta smothered in cheese, sopressa and warm marinated mushrooms. But it was not the food that took center stage this night. Before I could even finish my second bite of polenta, Riccardo had switched on the microphone and began the show. It began with jokes and greetings, all in Italian and all sending the audience into roaring laughter.

Then came the guitar and singing, followed by a request for all guest to swing our napkins round and round in the air, followed by an impromptu strip tease (down to boxer briefs) by the two males hosts of the affair. By this point I was in tears.


After a frenzied sing-a-long of YNCA (as the Italians say), and Macho Man, I thought I had seen it all...but then came Riccardo and Carlos freestyle rap. I will not do this video any justice by describing it with words. You just need to watch.

Now the party is out of control...a perfect time for a conga line. Mind you, there are other diners in the restaurant (or "victims" as Maria called them) who were not part of our party but had no other choice but to jump on the line. Riccardo was the leader of my particular conga line and guided us into and out of the restaurant's kitchen several times until about the 4th time when the owner of the restaurant stood there shaking his head, "NO".

More sing-a-longs and then it was time for the gift presentation. One by one, each woman at the party including the waitress, was handed a bag with sexy lace panties. Some of the more overserved gals even tried their new lingerie on over their clothes!


By 1am the espressos had been served, and everyone happily stumbled out of the restaurant thanking their hosts and anxiously awaiting the spring when they will do it all over again.

Ringraziamento!

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone back home!

It's a rainy one here in Treviso but that shouldn't put a damper on the festivities. The plan is to finish school at about 4:30, do some private lessons near my house and then race home to prepare my grandmother's peas & onions (my contribution to the Thanksgiving feast).

I already have the recipie ready to prepare, sent to me via text message (thanks Mom)! It's the perfect side dish for a juicy oven roasted turkey...or a few grilled turkey patties...or some sliced turkey meat from the deli...really it will be whatever we can find in Treviso. As I've learned, turkeys are not top sellers at Italian butcher shops.

I will then bus it over to Stephanie's house. She's the other American who has set up shop in Treviso! We met over the weekend and she was gracious enough to invite me to tonight's dinner. The guests will be a mix of Americans, Brits, and Italians which always makes for lively conversation.

Of course nothing can compare to my family's Thanksgiving table, but maybe they will save me some turkey. Do you think it'll keep until Christmas?? ;)

Monday Madness

There's nothing like oversleeping on you first day of a new job in a foreign country.

My cell phone alarm just didn't ring this morning, or maybe it did and I pulled one of my infamous semi-comatose moves where I turn the alarm off without realizing it, which is probably more the case. I can't really be blamed though. I tossed and turned for almost 3 hours last night as a two-year-old ran around the apartment above me and screamed "Mamma" like a broken record. And I had Thanksgiving lesson plans dancing around my head. I couldn't stop humming the tune of:

The turkey ran away, before Thanksgiving day...said she, "You'll make a roast of me if I should stay..."

So I woke up an hour late, which meant I had to skip my caffè and race down Via Vittorio Veneto on my bicycle (which lacks breaks). I got to the historical center at 7:15 and rattled through the just awakening cobblestone village, barely remembering the way to the stazione. Thankfully I made no wrong turns and locked my bici on a rack across from the bus stop.

I thought I was in the clear...I purchased my bus ticket at the Tabachi yesterday and knew I needed the #6 line at 7:45 to Quinto. But of course, the 6 line was the only one not listed on the bus stop signs. I found every other line, from 1-11, but not the 6. I asked a few students but received no clear answer. They seemed much more interested in smoking their cigarettes and gossiping about the boys on the corner.

Then I saw it, the #6 bus. I made a mad dash and was the last person on, but I made it. I franked my ticket and stuck my hands in my pockets only to realize that one leather glove was missing. It must have fallen out as I darted across the street.

The bottom line --no matter where you go in the world, Monday mornings will always have you asking, "Is it Friday yet?"

Where in the World Is...

I just caught myself singing the jingle of that old PBS series, Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, a rendition made famous by none other than Rockapella. I can't imagine why they never went mainstream. Their multi-colored suspenders and supreme scatting talent were unmatched! The bass was my favorite. He'd pop through the window and bellow, [Where in the world is] "Carmen Sandiego"!

OK, I digress, but perhaps my childhood fascination of globetrotting Carmen was the beginning of my travel bug? In any case I thought I'd post my own version of "Where in the World." Where I've been, where I am, and where I'm going!




June 2007:
-Left my marketing career at Vh1 in New York City on a one-way ticket to Sanremo, Italy. I spent one week with other 20-30 somethings participating in an intensive T.E.F.L. introductory language course.
-Shipped off to Sorrento to start teaching at my first A.C.L.E. English immersion camp. Weekends excursions to Capri and Positano helped my love affair with Italy take shape.










July:
- Boarded Air One flight to Torino for a one-week camp in the mountain village of Cuneo. Lived with a musical family in a house surrounded by corn fields.
- Spent weekend in Torino where I attended the most beautiful outdoor (free) concerts by Italian composer, Franco Battiato.
- Headed east to Milan and began another week-long camp in the sweltering city heat. Lived in a flat with others where I learned how to cook risotto and how to ride the bus for free.
- Went south to Moncucco, a minuscule village one hour outside Milan. Lived in a school classroom with another tutor.
- Went back Sanremo at the flat of A.C.L.E.'s "host with the most", Vince.


August:
- Spent the weekend in magical city in the south of France, Menton. Riding along the Ligurian coastline took my breath away.
- Backpacked through Cambodia & Thailand for three weeks. Non ci sono parole! Fantastico!!
- Returned to Italy for my final camp in Ciriè (Piemonte). A city small in stature, but huge in heart.





September:
- Mission "Surprise Sister" began with a covert flight back to New York, followed by the wrapping of a large box, which I jumped out of at her birthday party. (watch the video!)
- Nursed my grandfather back to health for a month after a full knee replacement. Spent my days at a care center, nights perfecting my Italian cooking style with nonna. Frittate seem to be my specialty but I've got a long way to go!



October:
- Accepted a six month teaching position in the north of Italy in a small city called Treviso. I will teach English through drama and conversation by day, and take Italian courses by night!

November:
- I leave for Venice (20 minutes from Treviso) in ONE WEEK!