Ponza - Ciao regazzi!

My belle regazze for a weekend on Ponza Just on our own little boat sailing

through caves in the Mediterranean, you know

A little place called Ponza

Our fearless regazzo, Pietro

Have no fear - there was gelato
Frontone beach - the site of Mere's future

wedding
Whhiiisssperrrre - said in a breathless voice

One of two of Ponza's hotspots

Yes, Tony Ballsy got creepy

And of course no weekend would be

complete without karaoke. Unfortunately

I don't have pics of our domination of

Living on a Prayer and All Night Long.

But it the only time the whole weekend

where we didn't clear the room, so a good sign
On such a short visit, Rome was not

high on the priority list, but we did manage

to hit the topspots......
and pay our respects.

Please note the facial expressions...

Merieta is like whatev, Cornelia is full

of hope that ol Trevi will pull through this time.

And yes, I'll admit it, I threw a coin - my third.

So its official, consider this my engagement

announcement, groom TBD

The view from our apartment on Ponza

with Palmarola (where we took our boat) in the

background - Bellisima

The day after my Dad left two of my favorite belle regazze arrived - Cournelia and Merietta (as they would soon become known). They both had already been to Rome, and a few months ago when I was thinking where we could go close by for the weekend - I came upon a little known place called Ponza, a small island between Naples and Rome. The guidebooks all had very little information about it, but described it as "a hidden gem largely ignored by international tourists" - sounded perfect. Later found out Jude Law likes to hang out there, which was just added to the allure. Little did we know how ignored by international tourists it was....

Side note - Shortly after booking this trip, I also developed a new strategy for my travel in Italy in general. Since clearly work is going to get in the way of me going everywhere I want to go, I've decided to focus on difficult places to get to unless you live in Italy - aka mountains and islands. So don't expect to see Florence or Naples on this blog anytime soon

So on the agenda for Ponza - finally manning a scooter and buzzing around the island, renting our own little boat and cruising around the island and to outer islands in and out of caves (guidebook advised no experience necessary), sunbathing on our private terrace, scouting out Jude Law, and of course having a dance party as can only be done with my American besties. Here's a few of the highlights from the weekend, clearly we had no idea, nor did Ponza, what we were in store for:

- Travel: So I chose Ponza for it's 'closeness' to Rome, and the minimal information offered in the guidebooks said that it was a one hour train ride South and then a 1.5 hour ferry ride. Cornelia and I were in somewhat non-optimal condition (due to a late night before) and Mere was coming off a nine hour flight, but we packed ourselves onto the bus from my house (with tickets in hand, thanks JB) arrived at Termini to our train being sold out. The next train would get us to the ferry 10 minutes before it was leaving, so we started planning how we would sprint with our bags in tow. Once we arrived at the ferry we found out that the ferry was actually "in ritardo" by two hours, one of my favorite Italian expressions meaning late and of optimal use because this is Italy and everything is in ritardo. So we took the opp for a first prosecco and some snacks and soon boarded our ferry. The ride was really pretty and we were enjoying ourselves until 2 hours had gone by and we were still out at sea......we finally arrived after 3 plus hours on the boat and approx 7 hours of travel time - so much for close to Rome.

-Our agenda - So after finally making it to Ponza, we had a quick meal at our local eatery where Merietta requested that they put some dance music on and inquired about the local discotechs (our first info about the legendary Whiissperrre), but soon crashed into bed exhausted, which allowed us to get an early start for Saturday where we immediately set off to get after our agenda of our private boat and scooter rental. Upon arrival at Piscine Naturale, there were about three boats and when we finally got someone's attention - I explained to them that we wanted to take a boat to ourselves to go to Palmarola. He took one look at the three of us, and asked if we had any boating experience, to which I replied - Un po. And by un po, I mean I've been on a boat and I know that you have to wear stripes. After some negotiation, we agreed that he could be our guide, purchased paninis and beers, laid out in the sun, and set off for the open sea. Pietro guided us in and out of tiny caves (Cornelia took fright and thought we may be reenacting Pirates of the Caribbean), let us stop wherever to fare un bagno in the sea, and we generally had an awesome day and when we got back it was only 2pm. We thanked Pietro and headed to Frontone, a beach only accessible by boat, which is also home to Frontone beach and sports club - aka. gorgeous beach side restaurant/lounge where we were the only customers (which soon became real apparent)/aka the site of Meredith's future wedding. We had a 6 course meal with mojitos and local wine, and were enjoying ourselves so much we missed the last boat off the beach. No worries, our new friends took us back AND drove us to our apartment, where we lolled on our terrace to the sunset, and then put our game faces on to hit up the Ponza nightlife. We realized before departing, that we had already been everywhere suggested by the guidebook in our first day, only thing left to do - Whiiisperrre and scooters

Dance parties - I'm not sure why I keep moving to countries where they don't like dance parties - NZeders are too cool, and Italian girls are too Catholic/conservative. Maybe my purpose is to introduce a proper dance party to these countries - of which we certainly did on Ponza and were immediately surrounded by countless sweaty dudes wanting to spin us around the dance floor. So dance party success - although I will admit there were a few unfortunate Snookie moves executed by yours truly, but that are all Marietta's fault

-Our accommodation - I found our apartment on Homeaway.com and really didn't look much further. It was 20 euro a night each, and our gracious host Alfredo was very friendly and welcoming. We soon discovered that our 20 euro didn't give us soap, towels, or toilet paper - but it did afford us an awesome terrace with perfect views of the sunset and Palmarola (complete with a family of visiting cats). Lesson learned - pack like I'm going camping when renting Italian vacation rentals

-Clearing a room - For some reason, no matter where we went - the dance floor of Whisper or the other discoteque, or a cafe for a coffee in the afternoon, to the local gelato shop - as soon as we entered and got comfortable the whole place cleared out. At first we thought maybe a coincidence, but then we started to think we were developing a reputation and people were specifically avoiding the 3 Americans on the island

-Smallness of Ponza - To give you an idea of the smallness of Ponza, during the winter (which they still consider May, crazy Italians), there are only 1500 people on the whole island, and in summer that swells to 35,000. Given that we were visiting in "winter" there weren't many people around. Add to that that 95% of the tourists that go to Ponza are Italian, so Ponza wasn't quite ready for these three Americans and I'm not sure we were ready for Ponza. The smallness does owe itself to making friends. A few of our favs - Sam the bartender from Brazil who had a sweet spot for Cornelia and was trying to romance her with M&Ms; and whatever this dude's name was who ended up tracking us down to introduce us to his 3 year old daughter Sharon with a rocking haircut, or the bumbling man wearing a rosary who we ran into at least three times a day, everyday and for the life of me I could not understand one word that he was saying to us; and a ton of stray dogs all of whom Marietta wanted to adopt and almost did.

As mentioned above, we also made some friends on Frontone, namely the owners of the establishment, one of which was named Antonio Balzano, aka Tony Ballsy. Balzano in italian means crazy/wacky and boy we should have taken that as a sign. Tony Ballsy first impressed us at Frontone with the lavish spread, his knowledge of Ponza's history, the fact that he used to be the mayor, his previous residence in Connecticut, and his perfect English. We soon ran into Tony Ballsy everywhere we went, at first this seemed like coincidence since Ponza is so small, but then it started to get a bit weird, especially when he showed up at the ferry just to wish us goodbye.

Celebrity sightings - While we didn't find Jude Law, we did find a younger hotter version of AC Slater named Mossimo. We first spotted Mossimo on Frontone and marveled at his beauty, needless to say when he entered the discoteque later that night we made him our new best friend. After the fact, we found out that Mossimo is 22, so just about AC Slater's age in Saved by the Bell - perfect

-Italian - Marietta and Cornelia jumped full steam into Italian, with practice on our train ride to Ponza, much to the delight of those sittings next to us. Marietta mastered, "Ciao regazzi" and might have been part of the result of us making so many friends. They also both adopted Italian names for their visit, as the Ponzans couldn't quite master their American ones. The other thing that has happened both with my Dad and M and C, is that by the end of the trip they all are speaking with an Italian accent - like adding an Ehhh, and doing a lot of hand motioning, like speaking in this way makes it easier for Italians to understand you - love it. Miming is also a learned talent of each of my visitors in order to get their point across, of which Cornelia became an expert and charmed many a young man with.

-New business venture - Most of you know that Marietta and I launched a business a few years ago named Good In Bead. It wasn't a raging success mostly because neither of us have the patience for actually making the jewelry - a problem, but they say it takes 10 ideas before a successful business is launched so we're not giving up. Well a new idea has been hatched in the way of SheMoon Adventures - a travel planning company geared towards girls/young ladies/regazze that are interested in adventure and a bit of an ego boost. Ponza is well suited to this venture - so Mere and I will be writing this trip off as research (oh right I don't pay taxes, zing!). Stay tuned for more SheMoon Adventure locations, of which the site of my original MeMoon, Samoa is obviously one. Now open for business...

So back to that agenda - you may have noticed that we didn't scooter, it wasn't for lack of identifying our scooter rental location, it was more that in the end we didn't think we could handle it given how the rest of our weekend played out and the narrowness of the roads/oncoming traffic - you're welcome (for now) Mom. We did however also squeeze in a nice lazy day of shopping in Ponza where Marietta scored two pairs of childrens shoes, and I got a scarf with stripes for our boatride home

So all in all, it was awesome, hilarious, and my favorite part was definitely just having time to lounge and catch up on our hopes and dreams. As I said in my last post, to have dedicated time with so many favorites in my life makes me feel very very lucky. Marietta and Cornelia, it took me awhile to come down off the high of your visit, and to help myself cope I've been looking into our next SheMoon for October!!!!

And tomorrow.....Bob arrives! I know it appears as though I don't work, but I promise you that I do and full-time with technically no vacation days. About one year ago, Bob came to visit me in New Zealand where we journeyed through Middle Earth and chased down waterfalls - this time we're chasing down George Clooney and conquering volcanoes........

Enjoying the quietness and views of my neighborhood,

high above the craziness of the tourist infested streets
Midnight photo shoot at the Colisseum
The glory that is the Pantheon
Taking my Dad to my (and Pope JP's) favorite

gelato shop
On the path of the Illuminati, Dad showing up

Tom Hanks
Dad putting St. Peter's in its place,

right at his fingertips
From my favorite park in Rome, full or

orange trees and a view of St Peter's (which

this lady failed to get in the picture, don't

worry JB made sure to tell her it was a fail)

Hitting up the tourist hotspots
Clowning around on a rainy day in Rome
First time sunbathing on an Italian beach -

very ready to get used to this

I have now successfully made both my parents

pose like statues. I can now come home

While I was a bit worried about how I was going to be a tour guide in a city I can barely navigate after three months, I quickly realized that it was going to be the other way around....my Dad came to Italy to show me up and teach me a thing or two about getting after it. My Dad came for ten days and managed 5 days in Rome (with a day trip to Sperlonga) and 2.5 in Florence and Venice. He tore it up in all of them while taking time to nap and get spa treatments, was a trooper with all the walking I put him through (when will I learn), became a connoisseur of Italian art and history, and somehow managed to become a regular at his favorite spots.

A few things I learned from my Dad's visit.....

Patience - If I had any doubt about where I get my impatience, I've found the answer. It was clear real fast that Italy's pace was going to be even more difficult for him...My Dad says he prays for patience every day and then God puts him in a line a mile long. If I thought I had trouble with Italy's pace of life, my Dad's visit to Italy finally gave me what I've been searching for for the last 18 months - a sense that I can find my patience, I may have to dig real deep at times - but maybe that's what my Dad means by God's long line.

Who's the Boss - If I wondered where I get my 'desire to take charge of situations' nature......From the moment my Dad stepped out of the airplane he wanted to take charge (insisting that I was telling him the wrong train to my HOME). While I've always known this about him, I thought being in a foreign country/where he doesn't speak the language/know his way around AND the fact that I live here - might shift the balance where he would let me lead the way. We could not go anywhere without him insisting upon seeing a map, even in my neighborhood and me insisting that I LIVE HERE, I know where we are. Or ordering food - I wanted to show off my newly learned Italian, but my Dad would beat me to it with a couple - due's, and an aqua naturale and insalata di mare (his fav), and then throw out a Grazie, before I could breathe a word of my carefully crafted full politely worded sentence to place our order. I could use a bit of that initiative

Shopping - As you know, I gave up shopping in NZed and although I've managed to get back into it a bit in Italy (more on my new strateegery shopping soon), I've mostly avoided the famous Italian labels for more quaint little shops near my house. My Dad had already scouted out all the best labels while in Florence and found a few items he liked, and insisted that I definitely needed to own a pair of Prada/Fendi/Gucci/Feragamo sunglasses/shoes/bags/etc. When I found a 15 euro pair of sunglasses that looked pretty similar to the Prada ones he liked for me, "No, those look cheap". In the end I won, and we window shopped, but I'm now dreaming wistfully about a few of the options we saw/tried and I may be back on the shopping wagon...

Becoming a regular - There are a few restaurants right on my street, very close to my house that I always walk by but have never eaten at, because frankly I usually venture further or eat at home. We tried out the restaurant on the corner of my street and it was great (my Dad's favorite meal). He liked it so much that we went back the next night - and now everyday when I walk by they wave at me = Dad made me a regular at my own neighborhood restaurant.

The quiet above the storm - In my typical life here I don't venture into the tourist zones too much if I can help it (although I work next to the Coliseum so somewhat unavoidable). Hitting up the tourist hotspots with my Dad, made me realize how much they've descended in force since I arrived. I've always loved my neighborhood, but I'm even more able to appreciate it now that I know what awaits me below. However, the other night I went to take the garbage out and opened my front gate to a group of tourists taking a picture of my front door - THEY'RE EVERYWHERE

The law is no joke - Unfortunately I implicated my judge father in an Italian crime on his second day in Rome. A bad habit that I've developed since moving here is taking public transport for free. Now this was never a plan to cheat the system, but more of an accident since they never check for tickets and there is often nowhere to buy a ticket/open place to buy a ticket when I want to hop on the bus. I've joked that this was becoming a bad habit and I would probably get caught soon, even on the day my Dad arrived. I tried to straighten myself out for my Dad's visit, but then the bus was coming and we were running late, etc. One stop before we got off - police jumped on and gave us both tickets for 50 euro each. Now while I actually legitimately owed this to the Italian public transport system, my poor Dad did not. Dad - know that I've learned a lesson and I will follow the law from here on out (except when I'm running late/nowhere is open to buy a ticket, and I will endeavour to wear something cuter and get caught by a male policeman instead....)

Some of my favorite moments -

-Eating pizza and watching soccer in a tiny pizza place near Campo di Fiori with my Dad yelling at the screen (not knowing who the teams were) on a rainy Sunday

-Strolling through Trastevere and restaurant hopping to sample some of my Dad's favorite dishes of insalata di mare and spaghetti alle vongole

-Going to night of the museum at the Capitoline and both being on the same page for the speed version of the museum

-Being able to serve my Dad his favorite snack Italian style in my apartment - salami, cheese, and crackers (I added artichokes and olives to the spread)

-Popping into random churches on our walks and conducting our own Illuminati tour

But the biggest thing I learned and my very favorite part of my Dad's visit was how much closer we are. While I get homesick being so far away and feel guilty for not getting to see you all on a daily/monthly basis, I feel so lucky that I get dedicated/special/one on one visits like this that I've never had before. Thank you Dad for coming all this way and showing me how to live it up, eat it up, and generally get after it in Italy

Royal Wedding, arghahaha

Everybody say - Royal Weeeeddddding!!!!
Forget Wil and Cate, I really went to

see these two lovebirds - the LJs. Hadn't seen LJ in

over 1.5 years, and especially wanted to get to know LJ2

The most royal weddingesque thing we did -

Go to a restaurant called the Duke of Cambridge

Wils' new title

Dominating Burrell market, and

stuffing ourselves with raclette, ham, smoothies,

cheese, etc.
From the Tower Bridge
Reuniting with LJ with our favorite activities -

drinking champers while singing karaoke
To make it even better, LJ2 got us

a private room complete with props
And back in Italy, continuing my culinary adventures -

making pizza, and yes I tossed the dough in the air
Cacio e Pepe, so simple, so good
Hanging with the Pope on Easter Sunday at the Vatican,

somehow he failed to warn me that he would be shutting

down the airport and messing with my flight the following

weekend

Royal wedding - When I booked my ticket to London, I didn't realize that it was the same weekend as the royal wedding at first, but then figured, why not? I didn't actually arrive in London until the wedding was long over, but the British flag dresses were still out in force. My first impression after stepping out of the tube was, "Oh, right this is what order and logic feel like again, and even better - people understand me!" London rolled out the royal treatment with beautiful weather, even better than Rome. The LJs also rolled out the royal treatment with a private karaoke room filled with champers and Mariah Carey; American TV shows and couch laying; sushi eating and sake; raclette, Spanish ham and Comte cheese; a trip to the Duke of Cambridge restaurant in honor of Prince Wils' new title; frolicking with the kiddies at the Princess Diana memorial in Hyde Park; a walk over the Tower Bridge; a trip to St Paul's to reminisce about past royal weddings; a breakfast that included eggs instead of just various bread products; and a Starbucks coffee (my first since January 2010, frankly it could have been any coffee in a to go cup larger than a thimble and I would have loved it). You may not think all of these have a lot to do with a trip to London or the royal wedding, and I know you wanted to hear about all the hats and the kiss from Buckingham Palace - but they're royal treatment for me since I don't get most of these things in Italy. It felt a bit like a mix of home and being back in New Zealand, combined with a bit of Royal wedding kitsch. The LJs and I had a good time making fun of all things British, and just saying Royal wedding and harharharing all weekend. It was my first European trip since moving here, and I'm definitely loving being able to visit other countries/places so quickly/easily, and have a great friend so close! Thanks LJs! Had a blast and can't wait till our next adventure somewhere on the Continent

And in true Italy fashion, when I arrived at Gatwick in London to fly back to Rome, I was informed that my flight was delayed by an unknown amount of time because the Pope had decided to shut down the airport. At first I laughed cause I thought this was just some good British humour, but no it was no joke. Good ol' Benedict decided to shut down the airport so he could fly his buddies in and out for JP's beatification. I finally made it home 4.5 hours after I was scheduled to, at 1am, at which point of course all of Italy's public transport is no longer running. It all made for some good laughs and definitely made me feel like I was coming home. Oh, Italy

A few recent Italy realizations in honor of my 100 days in Italy (exactly on May 14th):

-I've recently noticed how many songs Rome is in, no matter the genre

-I can finally contemplate NZ without breaking down in tears. This realization has given me a new love for my thesis, as it transports me back to NZ every time I work on it (don't take this as that I don't love Italy. There was going to be an adjustment/mourning period no matter where I went afterward and I'm sorry Italy has gotten the brunt of it, but it had to happen)

-The linked arm behind the back stroll (Clasp hands behind back and sloooooowly meander along). This might be my favourite, but I think it might only be allowed for those over 70. No matter, I've been practising in my terrace as I'm pretty sure its a learned art an must take many years of practice given the age group executing it

-Being called Bella everyday/all the time. We should really adopt some equivalent, even if it is commonplace and doesn't necessarily mean you're pretty - it doesn't get old

-Customer service, now this could be a love/hate as there is actually no customer service in the American concept of the term (i.e. something breaks, and someone comes to fix it and gives you a refund or gift for your trouble). But feeling like your dry cleaner, banker, coffee dude, prosciutto man, etc. are all your special friends because they really make you feel that way - by asking about your family, where you're from, stopping to chat when you run into them, calling you Bella, having a dance party together, the list goes on. Is it weird that my favorite people all perform some service for me? Well, not in Italy

-Accepting that things will not work, so when they do, it's like a great surprise. I can now laugh at all the ridiculous inefficiencies and illogicalness of life here

In Italian language news - I managed to meet two of the five Italian language exchangers that responded to my ad - Claudio and Guido. A lot of you expressed concerns about these encounters, so you will be happy to know that I not only survived, but I made some new friends. While neither of these raggazzi are dating material (both shorter than me as just one reason), they are very patient with my Italian and have invited me out twice since our first encounter. Hopefully before long, thanks to them, I will finally be able to speak

Today my first visitor to Italy arrives - James Beall himself. He informed me that he purchased a new wardrobe to be "fashionable" in Italy, so I'm looking forward to that, and fattening him up with Italian food, having an excuse to be a tourist for a few days, and our general bonding time. It will also be a good experiment as I don't even feel like I know how to live here, so showing someone around is going to be real interesting.

Capital Thoughts goes to Africa, aka Vegas

Buona Pasqua!

Trying to practice taking it slower

The park by my house, Villa Doria Pamphili,

where I've become the local creep among the

castles

Becoming a Tunisian bride - almost
Sidi Bou Said's blue doors
Just your average working sunset from the

terrace of my hotel room in La Marsa
Downtown Tunis, the site of the revolution
The only yellow door in all of Sidi Bou Said,

the doors and windows are painted blue to keep out

mosquitos (apparently this house loves bugs - like me!)
Sidi Bou Said - get here while prices

are at rock bottom
The port between Sidi Bou Said and Carthage
Umm yes I would like to come back here

So in my efforts to catch up on this blog I will skip over my trip to America and the Bahamas, even though yes there were capitals involved in my trips. Suffice it to say it was awesome, too short, and while I tried to mentally prepare to avoid the emotional turmoil that I felt on my last visit (June 2010) - I think it's just the way it probably goes when you only go home for two weeks total in 18 months. Thank you to all of you that I got to see for putting up with my mania once again, for hosting me, and setting aside time to make my short stay so fun filled. One day I will come home again and get to see those of you I didn't see and hopefully have more time with all of you. A few highlights I will share - an epic dance party/karaoke session with a few of my all-time favorite ladies, FINALLY going through the stuff I left when I moved to New Zealand and getting organized and laughing at old memories and stuff with my Mom and sis, finally getting to see Bob's bachelor pad, riding on the Current in the Atlantis and yelling I LOVE THE CURRENT at least once a day for five days straight, getting to share in the wonderful wedding weekend of Kaitlyn and Matt and get to know some of their friends better who are now my friends, and one of the all time highlights, when someone asked me where I live and I said Rome, they said, "Oh, Rome, New York - I know someone there".

Rome (Italy) welcomed me back with open arms and warm sunny days. I realized when I walked back into my apartment and went to work the first day that it does actually feel like home now, and that I actually live here. And with that cozy feeling, I immediately had to get busy getting ready for a work trip to Tunisia. Given that Tunisia had a bit of a revolution a few months ago, I had to get an advanced security clearance in order to travel there. What this meant was taking another 3 hour exam (refer back to my Basic Security in the Field exam from December). I now know how to tell directions and find my way based on the old stick in the ground/shadow method; where to build a shelter and with what materials along a river or a desert; how to coordinate with the military in a peacekeeping/military mission; and I'm even better at spotting landmines. Now, even with all that I wasn't too worried about traveling to Tunisia because I was going with two male colleagues and our assistant had arranged a UN car to pick us up at the airport. I ended up finding out late on Friday night that I was actually on a different flight than my colleagues (10 hours earlier) and there would be no airport pick-up for me. So I packed my bag full of scarves and full-coverage clothing to make myself as Muslim looking/respectful as possible, dug deep to resurrect my French, and hoped for the best.

Although I ended up taking a pirated cab from the airport (and scolding myself the whole ride with my hand on the doorhandle in case I needed to quickly expel myself), all was fine other than getting slightly ripped off (which I had expected anyway). The driver and I had a few nice chuckles in French about him ripping me off, and he delivered me safely to my gorgeous hotel where I was greeted by a nice limeade refreshment and a seaside terrace. I only had Sunday afternoon to explore so I headed straight for Sidi Bou Said outside of Tunis. I was slightly worried about walking around as a woman alone as I had been told that it wasn't well accepted. The first shop I walked into, the shop-owner offered me a tour of the ancient building and then a tour of the town, where he became my personal photographer. I kept saying he didn't need to escort me, but he then offered me a tea (one of the best I've ever had) in the oldest teahouse in the town, some sunflower seeds, and bought me a fried donut. I was beginning to wonder how much I was going to end up owing after this treatment, but in the meantime we discussed the revolution, life in Tunisia, the upcoming elections, and the history of Sidi Bou Said. He also showed me the former dictator's house and filled me in on all the gossip surrounding his expulsion/flee. I ended up purchasing a few items from his shop hoping that that would be a good exchange and then tried to sell me a 1,000 Euro coral necklace, then asked me to dinner and said, "Don't worry I won't eat you". Ummm, and that's when I made my exit......

But in general, the parts of Tunisia that I saw are gorgeous, people are really friendly, my scarves and Muslim-wear were unnecessary (although I felt myself becoming more Muslim as I tisked at the Western women wearing short skirts/bare arms), and it feels/seems very calm. There are tanks and barbed wire downtown around the government buildings, but people seem happy. A group of little German kids were even posing in front of one of the tanks (tried to snap a pic, but was too slow). I asked a few Tunisians about the revolution and crime and the lack of a government, and they said that before the revolution there was no crime and that it has increased to the point of pickpocketing - so basically Tunisia is safer than Rome. People are very hopeful about the elections in July, although slightly worried that the more extreme Islamists might win because they are the most organized at this point. Tourism is one of Tunisia's main industries/incomes and obviously the industry has completely tanked (excuse the pun) - so get there and help the economy remain stable - its beautiful, the food is delicious (seafood, olives, harissa, feta, couscous), people are friendly, and the Tunisians are hot.

Workwise the conference in Tunisia was a bit surreal as the entire conference was structured around a tool that I created while at the IDB. So basically it was two days of having presented to me a tool that I created. One of the weirdest professional experiences I've ever had, but I guess such is life as a consultant where you don't own your work. However, it was also one of the best organized/moderated workshops I have ever been to. Everything ran on time, it was super productive, great food and smoothies during coffee breaks, professional photographers, no boring presentations or people falling asleep. So if you're planning a conference - another reason to head to Tunisia.

Back to Italy - The flight from Tunisia is only one hour and on Tunis Air they somehow fit in serving you a meal. Now granted for breakfast this amounted to three servings of bread (croissant, roll, and muffin) but still impressive. Landing in Rome however on a flight from Tunisia = the most ridiculous customs line I have ever seen, definitely longer than the flight and probably due to a small war that Italy is having with France over Tunisian immigrants right now. My colleagues both have diplomatic UN passports, but again as a measly consultant I just have my ol USA passport and an Italian identity card that I've never been sure of the point of. Upon seeing the line they suggested we go in the diplomat line (or no line as the case is) and that they would try to get me through. We presented our documents and they let me and my German boss right through and told my colleague who is ITALIAN (with a diplomatic passport) that he had to go in the normal line. Oh the hilarity and lack of logic of Italy - welcome home.

It's Easter weekend which means four days off for me. Thanks first to Jesus and second to Italy for being so Catholic. With my travel to the states and then Tunisia I have decided to stay close to home this weekend and practice my passegiata before I head off to the Royal Wedding next weekend and a dance party with the LJs.

In Italian language learning news, I've decided enough is enough and I need to shake things up a bit if I'm ever going to feel comfortable speaking. I posted a listing on a consultants listserve for a language exchange and got 6 responses - all men. Their names are Guido, Claudio, Marco, Stefano, Lorenzo, and Mario (no, I'm not kidding). I've decided that I'm going to meet them all for humor's and learning's sake, and maybe at the same time Juliet will finally check her email

Celebrating with Spumante

Lidia and Nick, cooking lasagna for our

lunches for the week and a cake for the

peeps who work in the coffee bar

Oh Happy Unification Italy!!

The fireworks from my apartment

Rome Marathon

Yes I know it looks like I just got punched in the face

and may as well have run the marathon, although I did not

That's just the look of a month long diet of prosciutto

As you know, I'm very far behind in this blog, so I will post this that I had started before I returned to America to try to catch up.

Italy anniversary - Happy Anniversary Italia!!!! A little info about what this is actually an anniversary of: "1861 is the year recognized as the beginning of an independent and unified Italy, when the first Italian Parliament was assembled and the first King of Italy was declared – which is why 2011 is going to be such a big deal in Italy." Apparently this is the first year that people have actually had off work for this day (except me of course). In honor of the celebration all museums and a lot of buildings not normally open to the public at all were open the night before the big day until midnight. I celebrated my anniversary with Italy by partaking in some of the same activities I enjoyed two years ago, by strolling around with some other FAOers sipping prosecco and wandering in and out of piazzas, palazzos, and museums.

Rome Marathon - I've discussed how it's a bit more difficult to be fit in Italy and when I first arrived I thought maybe I would try to run the Rome Marathon. Clearly I have been too busy eating (and working) to make that happen, so I settled for donning my running clothes and my huge camera (thanks family!!) and running alongside the course snapping pics. When someone then asked for my press pass I realized how ridiculous I looked. Even though I wasn't running it, it was still so exciting and if I am here next year, definitely going to try to power through the prosciutto haze and do it. Although one item of note that I might not enjoy while running is that everyone on the sidelines of the course is yelling - "Dai, Dai, Dai!!" which sounds like Die Die Die, and really means go, go go (or so I'm told although it doesn't translate). That might not motivate me when I feel like I want to die

Italian - Still struggling along and definitely not practicing speaking enough. I try to speak Italian whenever I can (in shops, at the coffee bar at work, to myself while I'm cooking, etc.) but it's not enough. Most recent example - 10am in the coffee bar and I decide to order a juice (which they make fresh squeezed from blood oranges and it is AMAZING). So I say - "Io vorrei un spumante". And my good pal Carol laughs and just looks at me, then Lidia orders a coffee, and Carol says and what would you like to me. And I say "Un spumante". At which point she's like - "So would I dear". Well, what I wanted to say was Spremuta (juice) and what I asked for was champagne (spumante). So now my Italian (or lack thereof) is making me known as an alcoholic at work

Eating - Working at the Food and Agriculture organization in Italy, you'd think that they would have a good cafeteria. Now it's not terrible, but it got old real fast. Partly because everything is laden in grease, and partly because it's always a mob scene of disorganization. I decided instead to institute a little tradition of cooking with my colleagues on Sunday for the week, not only to avoid the cafeteria but also expand my Italian repertoire of recipes. Lidia, Nik, and I cooked up some vegetarian lasagna with alfredo sauce, and decided while we were at it to bake a chocolate espresso cake for our favourite workers in the coffee bar (and maybe make them forget about my alcoholism). While we felt awesome about it, bringing your lunch is not de rigueur to say the least. People frequently say, "Oh I knew you were American cause I've seen you walking around with your water bottle and tupperware".

Should I have some more ham??

It may not be Lago di Como but enjoying

Lago di Albana none the less
The Pope's summer residence
One of the many amazing villas in Frascati
Me and the Latins on a Piazza in Castelli di Romani
Lago di Albana, cliffside town/summer residence

of the Pope
Just another anti-Berlusconi protest with armed guards and tear gas at the ready
The sunset view from the roof of FAO, the Forum in the background
Making Ribollita, soup for lunches for the week,

I'm cheating and have ventured into Tuscany again

One of my new best buddies

Anniversary week - It is both the two year anniversary of when I first touched my toes to this sacred soil and the 150 anniversary of the unification of Italy. Thinking back two years ago, I would NEVER have imagined that I would actually live here, even though of course we joked about it - that Trevi Fountain I tell you, now if only Juliet would get her act together. For Italy anniversary day which is March 17th, most of Italy's offices/businesses are closed, but of course not the UN. You'd think maybe as a trade off for not celebrating Italian holidays that we could maybe celebrate some international ones - haven't seen it yet. On Italy anniversary day it is recommended to wear red, white, and green or one thereof. How convenient that it is also St Patty's Day and I can double up on my green, oh Italy you're so thoughtful

Getting away - When we came here on vacation two years ago, after five days in Rome we were ready for the Amalfi Coast and some strolling (passegiato). The fact remains that while beautiful, exciting, etc. etc. Rome is also exhausting and sometimes you need to just leave it behind for a bit. After reviewing easy day trips from Rome, I decided on Castelli Romani, a region just to the South of Rome, where the Pope has his summer residence. I mean if it's good enough for the Pope....So off I went with three Latins and an Itlalian (more on this in the language section of this post). Castelli Romani is also home to Frascati, a small town known for its villas and white wine - um yes and yes. After a short stop there, some pizza and supli (fried ball of rice with tomato sauce and melted cheese in the center) we headed up to Castel Gandolfo on Lago di Albano, where we enjoyed a nice stroll and some gelato and pretended a) it was summer and b) we were the Pope.

Rome - People keep asking me for directions, and no not tourists - Italians. At first I was really confused by this (and proud) and then my friend Sarah back home told me they were all trying to pick pocket me. Since my first confusion about this, it has continued to happen constantly even with my ipod in people are waving me down to ask directions. So I've decided to take this as 1) I am doing such a good job of dominating the streets AND 2) looking like an Italian that they think this girl knows where she's going (false) and can speak Italian (false).

Language - My first week here I signed up for Italian class for Expats, partly because it was so cheap and partly because I thought it would be a good way to meet new people. It's once a week for one hour and it 25 euro a month, at a different bar in a different neighborhood each time. I have really enjoyed it each time, except that I seem to be the only one who goes every week in my beginner group - which means each time a new person shows up we're back at learning how to say our nationalities again. And for the last three weeks, everyone in my group will say, "wow, how do you know so much?". Umm, because I've been coming for four weeks and we haven't progressed. Yes I can say 'Io sono americana' quite well at this point. Added to that is that I share an office with two spanish speakers so I speak Spanish all day (thank you because I didn't want to lose it) and for work I speak English all day. I've been trying to teach myself on the side, and the grammar books that I have (thank you Ulix!) are great and I can get 100% on the tests, but then as soon as I enter a store or try to speak I'm at a loss. Speaking four words a week at my chance store encounters isn't going to be enough to drive this home. I am still pulling from the small italian I know and then in a pinch inputting some French or Spanish when i can't remember a word. Yes, it gets me my prosciutto, but it doesn't make me feel like I actually live here. Although, maybe this comes back to my favorite lesson - patience. The other day it was raining and I was not happy waiting for the bus and this old cute Italian lady offered for me to share her umbrella. We then chatted in Italian a bit and she asked me how long I had been here and I said, one month. And she said, "Wow, you know heaps" (or translation a sack/big garbage bag - which I assume means heaps?).

Work - A lot of you have asked why I haven't said much about it. Frankly, it's not my dream job, but everyone is really nice and I understand what I'm supposed to do. To give you a flavour - I am the only native English speaker in my department. There are only 6 funded months left of the project/department that I work for, so in essence I was hired as clean-up crew - to turn what they have worked on for 3 years into something polished and to deliver some of the deliverables they have been funded to complete. What this equals is a lot of me reading things that have been prepared/researched in order to put them into something publishable in ENGLISH - aka rewriting a lot of non-native English. So as you can maybe gather from above - being hired to be an English writer/editor on a technical topic while learning Italian and speaking Spanish all day has amounted to me being good at none of them. Add to that my Spanish friend wanting me to teach her phonetics in English. Umm, I don't even remember learning phonetics, all I could think of was Hooked on Phonics. Note English deterioration on this blog and I'm sure it will get worse

Eating - Not a day goes by where I don't think to myself, "Should I have some more ham?". Now while on vacation, my fellow vacationers could cut me off. Living alone, there's no one between me and that ham. This saying, "Should I have some more".....has also translated into - nutella and cheese. I have managed to eat cheese, prosciutto/pancetta, and nutella at least twice a day each since the day I arrived, most times more than that. Now while that's nice on vacation - I'm pretty sure it's not sustainable. I've now been here a month and my body is revolting against this behaviour.. Without going into the nitty gritty of my bodily trauma that has been caused by a month of eating like this - just one example is having two eye infections in one month when I haven't had an eye infection in two years before my arrival, or the fact that I'm constantly exhausted (eating cheese, nutella, and prosicutto all day long is exhausting). Additionally, somehow with all this ham/nutella/cheese eating I'm still constantly hungry. My officemates say at least twice a day - "You're eating AGAIN?" So I've decided two things - 1) I will continue to have as much of these items as I want, I mean gosh darnit I'm in ITALY and this is the home of TI, and 2) I need to figure out how to counterbalance them in order not to keel over from a heart attack/goiter. On that note...

Working out - FAO has two banks, two post offices, a grocery store, a second hand clothes store, 5 cafeterias, a pharmacy, a clinic, a bookstore - but no gym and no daycare (not that I need this second one, unless my food baby needs additional care than what I am giving it). This is somewhat characteristic of Italy - but also a bit ridiculous. So with winter here, and working 50 hours a week, and my Mom mentioning mace on every call we have when I talk about running or strolling - I've been left with few options for expelling my agro-ness from sitting at a desk all day other than counting as exercise watching my food baby grow. Lucky for me I live near a ginormous park - Villa Doria Pamphili. Unlucky for me that winter is here and all non-work hours it is already dark. There are apparently pervs among the bushes so it is not exactly safe to run in the dark, alone. I refuse to run without my Ipod in, so I've taken to entering the park and immediately finding a group of people to stealthily run behind so I that I am always in a group. I usually try to target old people as they're slower and they help pace me so I don't run too fast as I am tend to do. What I realized the other day is now I've become that weird creep in the park that is probably freaking all the old folks out

Weeeeee - that's how I spent my day on Saturday, on a scooter, and I was having so much fun that I forgot to take pictures. More to come - and maybe purchasing one of my own

Lidia, Giuseppe, and Nik - As often as I ask myself if I should have some more ham (and say yes), I think to myself, 'Thank god for Giuseppe, Lidia, and Nik". Going it alone in NZed was one thing when I spoke the language.

Lidia and Nik - both are volunteers at FAO and started on the same day as me so we get to experience the "What?, Really?" UN moments together, but also they are new to Italy so we get to share finding apt stories, and the like. First off, yes I can't believe people come to Rome as volunteers either, I can't imagine living here with no salary. But the majority of people my age at FAO are either volunteers or interns and I've found that I should feel very grateful for my consulting contract...

Lidia is from Spain and has been living in Sierra Leone volunteering for FAO for the last year. She studied in Australia and learned English in the streets and now has spoken Creole English in Africa for the last year. She brightens my day everyday with her hilarious English confusions/sayings (Can you borrow me your headphones?) and on top of that she calls me Ellie, which I've missed from IDB. She also is notoriously lost and refuses to speak Italian as she thinks just combining Catalan/Spanish/French/English is fine (most of the time it is actually). Her perspective from Africa is also refreshing from the largesse that is Rome/FAO

Giuseppe is Italian, from Sicily, but lived in DC for 7 years so he's basically the perfect combo of understanding my American questions, but also Italian so he can answer them. I was introduced to Giuseppe through a mutual friend from DC and I often wonder what he's getting out of our friendship as I usually have a list for him everytime I see him with questions/things I need negotiated/Italian I want to learn, etc.. He has helped me set up internet at my house, review my lease, introduce me to countless people, and is a strict Italian teacher.

Nik - Is German, and learned English studying in San Diego. He is also the social coordinator of the interns/volunteers and always rolls his eyes when Lidia and I say we're too old to hang out with them (he's 28). We take Italian class together and he knows French so we usually translate for each other in French. Lidia, Nik and I start each day with coffee and chocolate croissants and gossip about our latest trials and tribulations. Then I coax them back to the office as the guilt that I'm getting paid and they're not sets in.

A few things that are not going to get old in Italy -

-the guys and Carol(told me her name as Christmas Carol) who work at the coffee bar by my office. They're so friendly and lovely and patient with our terrible Italian.

-people yelling/saying bella

-taking public transport for free (more on this soon)

-going for a run in Circo Massimo and then around the Colloseo during lunch/post work

-strolling down Via del Corso and around the Spanish Steps trying on shoes and clothes

-appertivos (basically free dinner in the form of a buffet during happy hour)

-buying vegetables/fruit at the market and them always throwing something in for free and then wishing me a Buona Domenica (Have a good Sunday) on Saturday morning, and I always think in confusion, "What about Saturday?"

-eating a chocolate croissant everyday

So that's my first month here in a nutshell - it's not all pizza and gelato as I said before, but it is all ham, cheese, and nutella