Una giornata di ringrazimiento

The 22lb turkey that I carried home

on the bus in my backpack, threatening to take people

down who bumped into me. Forget mace, I might

have found my new self-defense aid

That face says "You all don't have any idea

that I have no idea how to cut into this thing"

and then the destruction ensued

On the menu, scalloped sweet potatoes, brussel sprouts

with bacon, mashed potatoes, fennel, apple sausage stuffing,

pumpkin soup, pomegrante, parmesan, arugula salad....

My 16 non-American guests seemed excited....

To finish it off, pumpkin cheesecake, kentucky

derby pie (not pictured) and a pumpkin pie made

by a colleague who really wanted to understand

and find Crisco in Rome

Like a lot (most) of my grand ideas, they seem really easy and fun in my head while I'm concocting them. You may remember - running 35k on no training with a backpack with a five course meal inside? or when I decided to buy an SUV so I could sleep in it? start a jewelry company that makes people's ears bleed? or countless others. Well in thinking about Thanksgiving, here's a bit of went through my head - "1) I mean I owe it to my colleagues and friends as the token American to give them a Thanksgiving; 2) I should invite everyone (including the IT people) since THAT is the spirit of thanksgiving; 3) I should really take more advantage of having a big apartment/garden and have people over more often before I leave; 4) I love cooking, it will be fun!" So what I didn't think about was 1) I don't own a car and feeding 16 people sort of requires the transport of a lot of food into my kitchen for me to transform it into Thanksgiving; 2) I don't even know/understand what the breast side of the turkey is; 3) my kitchen is smaller than my bathroom and my oven doesn't exactly have a temperature, so much in that it has a mind of its own where I just light it with a lighter; 4) finding Thanksgiving ingredients (cranberry sauce (forget cranberries); marshmallows, pecans, etc) in Italy is like finding an Italian without a puffy jacket.

When I shared these thoughts and non-thoughts with my Mom, she said, "No, Elizabeth, what are you thinking?, you can't do that, just make it a pot-luck". To which I said, "MOM ITS THANKSGIVING, I have to deliver America to these people, I can't ask them to bring America to me". And if my Mom had thought back to my high school years, she would have realized that her words ("you can't do that") were all the motivation I needed to make sure that I did. Here's a few of the highlights of my Italian day of giving Thanks:

-Transport: I used my trusty back and legs to get the turkey home, and quickly realized I was going to need to call in reinforcements for the 10lbs of potatoes, bottles of wine, etc. etc. So I called my new best friend, the Smart Car parked at Termini; hiked over to the huge/cheap weekend market and piled my backpack and arms with all the veggies and fruits I would need and hiked back, worth every penny and I've discovered I love driving in Rome mostly cause there are no rules

-Labour: As I mentioned, my kitchen is far from equipped, but I managed to mash 5lbs of potatoes with a fork; chop a 1lb of nuts by hand; roast a pumpkin to then mash up for soup, and brine a turkey in a garbage bag.

-Ingredients: Since some ingredients are just impossible to find, I had to get creative and make my pumpkin cheesecake crust out of a random cookie here that is *sort of* like a graham cracker, had to make a pie with hazlenuts instead of pecans, only make all butter crusts, and more. But luckily, I did manage to find cranberry sauce and marshmallows at a little store in Trastevere that sells a few random American goods including, yes it's true, occasionally Cheezits

-The Spirit of Thanksgiving: Since none of my guests had ever celebrated Thanksgiving (or at least not with a real American), and many of them said how they were excited "from the movies", I not only felt a lot of pressure but also contemplated playing some tricks on them and just telling them that certain things were a tradition. In the end, when I told them that we all go around and say what we're thankful for, they actually thought I was joking, and then Bossy Beall came out and I made everyone go around and say something

-Fails: So you might have noticed that I'm quite proud of myself for pulling this off, however there were a few fails of the day, 1) I totally forgot about making the gravy I was so excited to just get the turkey out of the oven, but luckily I had anticipated this blunder and once I realized, I quickly whipped up a package that I had purchased *just in case* and luckily no one's had real gravy anyway; 2) after everyone departed and I finished patting myself on the back, I tackled the dishes and then passed out. I awoke the next morning to my bathtub full of Thanksgiving sink gook, with no option but to shower ankle deep in it. So I guess Italian pipes can't handle the butter/grease/etc. that we pour into our bodies for Tgiving

And in sum, I'm so thankful to have had the opportunity to live a year in Italy, and for all of you who have kept me as a constant part of your lives no matter the distance. Being far away during the holidays makes me even more appreciative of all of you back home, and for this crazy adventure.

I can't think of a better way to round this post off than with one of my favorite non-native English speaker mistakes and just say - THANKS A LOT*

*non-native speakers are used to saying Thanks a million in their language (spanish, french, italian), and somehow when they want to say this in English they end up with "thanks a lot" instead of many thanks or something similar. It never fails to crack me up

Ich bin verloren - Wo ist das Collosseo?

The Brandenburg Gate, the only remaining

of a series between East and West Berlin,

originally built in the 1700s

My host, Nik, looking appropriately

German somber in the maze of the

holocaust memorial

Currywurst - a Berlin must

Searching the boxes at Parliament,

every Parliamentarian has a box...

Including Hitler

Taking an eagle eye peep at the workings of

the German parliament, from within

the dome

The Bundestag

Berlin's 'mascot' is a bear, in all

decorations. I tried to see if this

one shared my sense of humour

If you can't read, it says, "Now entering

the American sector"

Still arguing at Checkpoint Charlie,

the crossing between East and West Berlin

The Berliner Dom, not a dome, but

a catholic church
What better way to spend a Saturday night

at 1am than to reenact 1975 and try to escape

East Germany over the Berlin wall. Only made

better by renting bikes to get there

Almost made it

Ending my trip, appreciating one

of Germany's finest. All I wanted was

to drink a beer in a boot, so I'll have to go back

For some reason my career has always taken me into the close company of Germans (mostly because they love renewable energy and development aid), and as I've mentioned on a previous post, I find something so comforting and hilarious about them, so I decided I should finally take a visit to Deutscheland, especially while I still have a job funded by Germansy. Only seems right to use their Dmarks on a visit to their soil. When I told my Mom I was heading to Germany and I was excited, given my above statement, she said "Well it's probably cause you're German". When I told her I oft deny my German heritage in favor of my Swedish and French, she was astounded and deplored me to come clean to both my German hosts for the weekend and to myself - so fine, I'm part German. Was it not already obvious in my analness and bad jokes?

My host in Berlin was Nik, our former intern and my friend in Rome, before he left for greener pastures in the Bundestag of Germany. Nik also studied abroad in San Diego - so a little Rome, a little SD home, and little German heritage to welcome me. All I told Nik before my arrival was that I wanted sausage, German beer, and some WWII time and we didn't really plan much further. My life lately seems a bit like a series of the Amazing Race, and when I landed in Berlin and stared at the subway map, I had a brief chuckle again about how small and fast the world is. I navigated the super efficient German rail system with a big grin on my face as I practised my German (naschte station = next station).

German eats - As with anywhere I go, I was keen to eat my way through my visit. When I told Nik my list - curryworst, a beer in a boot, sauerkraut, some other type of German sausage/meat - he rolled his eyes and told me that Germans almost never eat those things. Berlin has some of the best mix of ethnic food (and granted I'm saying best coming from Rome), so I feasted on Asian fusion a la crispy duck Vietnamese. But since I'm on an episode of Beall's Amazing Race, I still felt compelled to do as a tourist would and check off my German list! He promised that we could find 2 out of the four, but that NO ONE in Germany actually drinks beer out of boot. That didn't deter me. He then called in reinforcements in the way of his friend Jan, who found us the most quintessential German restaurant where I had knödel drowned in a German beer (not in a boot). Jan was quite the tour guide, and also brought us to a bar, that he thought I would like cause it was owned by a dude from Baltimore - little did he know Baltimorians are not fans of peeps from DC, however we made up over Berlin schnapps. I also managed a street sausage with mustard and Glu wine at the flea market on Sunday. That on top of my currywurst, left me with 3 runs on the sausage front, minus two on sauerkraut and a boot.

History - While I live in one of the most historical cities in the world, Berlin's history is fascinating to me in the combination of its old and newness. Imagine royal palaces combined with eighties funk. The fact that Berlin today has only existed for the last twenty years seems surreal, especially when you walk around and see all the very real/present remnants of the Eastern/Western divide. Combined with that, the utter destruction that was Berlin post WWII and what it is now, is as breathtaking as the Colosseum. Maybe it is made more pronounced being an American, given Check Point Charlie, etc., but if you haven't been, it's like visiting a live museum - get there before the rest of the wall comes down and they run out of currywurst

Random highlights - Nik invited a friend out to join us for our Saturday and Sunday festivities, and after five minutes into meeting him, where I apologised that I couldn't speak German, he told me, "Wow, your English is so good for an Italian". So while I may not have convinced any Italians that I am Italian, tally one for convincing a German. And by the way, if I could count how many times this year someone has said my English was good, it would only be trippled by how many times I laugh about it. All in all, Berlin seems like such a liveable city, especially cause it was sunny and 'warm' while I was there.

Learning German - I would really like to learn German since my career seems to be stuck in their path of development assistance and the jobs for GIZ are much better than for USAID. In one weekend, I managed to learn - "please" (which like Italian is the same for you're welcome - prego=bitte), "thank you", "cutie", "Can I have the check please?", and "I'm lost, where is the Collosseum?". So again, a telling snapshot

And that's it for now, cause I want to tell you all about the next episode in Beall's Amazing Race, My Italian Thanksgiving. Only four episodes left until the surprise finale in a destination even I don't know

My Bologna has a First Name

Making bolognese sauce - the secret

ingredients - milk and wine

With the easy part over and left to simmer for

four hours, on to the hard part - making the

tagliatelle

It seems easy at first until you have an

Italian woman yelling at you that you're combining

too quickly or kneading without the precise motion

This kneading went on for a good hour, where

our teacher reminded us that pasta has a memory

better than an elephant, and however you mistreat

it in the beginning, will be remembered in the end.

Sound familiar
Again, it seems simple to just cut pasta, but

one centimeter in either direction and all of a sudden you

have spaghetti or pappardelle instead of tagliatelle

And finally the end result - a truly delicious

(if arduous) lunch. Absolutely the best

tagliatelle alla bolognese I've ever had

Piazza Maggiore
The view from the Torre Asinelli
Piazza Nettuno, representing the four rivers

of four continents, considered as the symbol

of Bologna. Church fathers were scandalized

by his 'proportions'
Torre Asinelli and Torre Garisenda,

you can't tell in the picture, but Garisenda

is very crooked. So I guess I can skip Pisa

Bologna

Speaking of bologna, you may have noticed that Italy has been in the news a bit lately, or maybe not, but basically Italy is threatening to take down the Euro with its debt crisis and at the helm has been Berlusconi further driving down investor confidence. For the last six months Berlusconi has had a series of setbacks politically, but like a phoenix, has always risen from the ashes. Even with last week's vote of no confidence and the emergency state of the Italian economy, no one really believed he would finally step down - until Saturday (one week ago) night when Italy won the Super Bowl. The riots in Rome around his house included a full blown party with cheering, champagne, and cries for Berlusconi to both go to jail, that he is a loser and a clown, and with an orchestra playing Allelujia. While life from here on out without Berlusconi will probably be less entertaining, it will hopefully mean a better Italy. While working at FAO is a bit of a bubble, there is much sadness and difficulty for the many Italians who can't find work. In some parts of Italy, unemployment has reached 50%. However, while Italy owes more than 125% of its national yearly output, individual Italians are some of the best savers in the world. Now if only all that money under their mattresses could help bail them out of this crisis.

And now back to the meat of this post - This weekend I decided to return to my roots and check out Bologna. For those of you that don't know, my friends in high school said I often smelled like bologna, so I had no fear that I would feel right at home. A few non-meaty facts about my weekend locale - it's home to the oldest university IN THE WORLD (NZed voice) which was started in 1088, it's been voted Italy's most liveable city time and again, and is a quick 2 hour jaunt by train from Rome. Now all that is nice, but what really drew me was the fact that it is also home to tortellini, tortelloni, lasanga, ragu alla bolognese, tagliatelle, and is in a region known for parmesan, prosciutto, butter, and mortadella (Bologna's bologna). I decided that in order to take full advantage of Bologna that I should take a cooking class while I was there - to which all of my Italian friends laughed and said I could just come home and cook with their Mom and they couldn't believe I was PAYING for a cooking class. Well sorry Italian friends but a lot of talk and no meatballs, and my days are numbered. Here are a few highlights from my weekend in my smellsake:

-Making pasta from scratch: Now you know how I've gained a love and appreciation for making things from scratch from my time in both NZed and Italia, but pasta is a beast I hadn't tackled yet, and as you know - when in Rome. It seems relatively easy, simple ingredients, simple process, until you realize how one false move can make you ball of cement. A few secrets I will share from my lesson with you - only rolling with the inside of your palms, never your fingers; never letting the rolling pin lance off the end of the dough; always keeping a perfect circle; and finally kneading it until it is thin enough to read a paper through - so the next time you have 2+ hours on your hands, I would highly recommend it because the taste really is so much better, but maybe that's just satisfaction at what your own hands created. Post pasta boiling, you should toss the pasta in butter so it doesn't greedily soak up all the sauce. And the rest I'll keep to myself, to hopefully impress you at a dinner someday soon

-Too many cooks in the kitchen?: I trolled a lot of websites to find a cooking class, and surprisingly most of them were full, even in a city avoided by tourists and in chilly November. I finally settled on one because a) it was cheaper and b) you not only made pasta and sauce but a dessert(panna cotta). I showed up to a kitchen at a B&B, where I was greeted by the friendly, if strict chef, and three others- 1 french dude and 2 Americans study abroad students. Our teacher started off by surprising us with the fact that the course would be taught in Italian thanks to our two study abroaders (from Harvard) who were eager to "Ma, dai" their way through the course. Frenchie (who bravely did his best with the Italian instruction, but unwisely told the chef he heard spaghetti was from China) was taking the course to impress his girlfriend. My young American compatriots were eager to discuss how I managed to actually land a job in Italy, and then played the name game since we all went to school in Boston. I had to sadly inform them that I graduated almost ten years ago. I was rewarded with their look of incredulity - homemade pasta and youth in one lunch, yes I'll have another serving.

-Table for one: Traveling alone, I've gotten pretty used to eating by myself, and most of the time I find it quite luxurious, except in Italy. In a country known for their food, I wish they could appreciate a simple girl just out to drown her face in the local regional delights - but instead it breaks their heart. I rarely eat out alone in Italy mostly because I know what it will do to them. But traveling to Bologna by myself, I was not going to let Italians emotional complex come in the way of me and tortelloni, or lasagna, or torellini - I came to Bologna to eat. I managed to convince a restaurant to seat me at a table for one, to their utter depression, where I enjoyed my favorite NZed pasttime of eavesdropping (Brits thinking their Italian accent was stellar, and Italians in a love quarrel over someone's second cousin) while joyously placing tortellini stuffed with prosciutto and mortadella in a broth into my grinning cheeks. I only felt bad for a second when I was making the Italians so uncomfortable that they were almost (ALMOST) making me uncomfortable with their sadness and incredulity of someone eating alone. And then I had dessert

Bologna is really an awesome city that I would like to go back to visit. Other than eating and cooking, I spent my days strolling and shopping through the galleries (all the sidewalks are covered in a curved like tunnel/gallery? not sure what the word is in English), enjoying the haunting architecture, and paying my respects to Jesus and the Madonna via a few ancient museums. Bologna has some of the best shopping in Italy, with a range of punk/urban to glamour, with a friendly mix of students and everyday Italians.

My Bologna has a first name - AGAIN

It's a Small World After All

Home in the USA

Visiting friends, babies, and baby bumps

Dropping my Mom off in Seattle

at her best friend since childhood's house.

I was a little worried until I saw their place,

couldn't imagine a better setting for her to

get her feet under her - thanks Nancy!

Exploring my Mom's new home on the

ferry after a night on Bainbridge Island, WA.

That's right, those are coffees to go

The original MUNROS

back together in NYC

Celebrating Halloween in London

with Alice and Gaga

Enjoying London's version of Halloween

So great to see so many of you on

such a short visit, thanks for all your

efforts!

And I was welcomed back to Italy with truffle season

And settled right back into testing my

Italian cooking ability. These meatballs

turned out amazeballs - they're stuffed with

fresh mozzarella to give you an idea of their

other worldliness

And one of my favos, Tuscan ribollita, with a taste

of home in the way of Schultz, the best hot sauce in

the world

Two weeks, four cities, two countries, seven flights, 22 friends, 3 family members, 3 job/networking interviews, and countless to-go coffees, and I am back in Rome. Needless to say, it's been a whirlwind and yes I do it to myself every time. Each time I venture back to the U.S. I think about how to maximize my time with people while minimizing my stress; and I'd have to say I'm probably still coming in at around a B+, but with an A for improvement from my last two visits. A few highlights from my time away and what it's been like to come back to Italy.....

Cucina Italiana - Not one but all of you tried to take me to Italian or feed me Italian. From my arrival in NYC, I had Meredith telling me I had to stop at a fabulous gelato place to Gimple telling me about the home cookin Italian in Hoboken; and then I made it to Connecticut where Brunellos were being served (yum) and no one could think of an appetizer that didn't involve prosciutto or mozzarella. Flash forward to Seattle, and the dinner my Mom's friends took us to - Italian. The perusal of the menu included questions about whether it accurately reflected Italy. Then I made it to London and every person I heard was speaking Italian and 1 out of 3 restaurants was advertising Italian. Lesson learned - Italy will find you wherever you are

Traveling lighter and smarter - After two moves around the world, and two airport debacles of nearly (okay actually) having a meltdown when my bags were too heavy - you'd hope that I've learned a thing or two. Sometimes I doubt that I have and the true test will be when I have to move again, stay tuned. But for now, I've tried to take these lessons to heart by way of a few new habits, 1) I only travel in a carry-on size suitcase, now I might not always carry it on, but I allow myself no larger; and 2) I now will always travel with a luggage scale (thanks Ulix!). Traveling in a carry on proved challenging this trip with winter approaching, shopping to be done in NYC, and gifts to disperse - but I did it. I didn't realize how fruitful it would prove until I saw my Mom's bags in Rochester. The point of this trip home was to help my Mom start her own new adventure in Seattle, ending a stay of over 20 years in Rochester, NY. At the airport, I started to have flashbacks to my own traumatic moves, but quickly realized how much easier it is when you have a helper to absorb your extra bags as their own AND a luggage scale. Laurie and I had a bit of fun wrestling with her luggage and gifting the airport staff with some leftover items, then Laurie drowned any of her packing/moving/airport woes in a Red Osier beef on 'wick sandwich to truly send off Western New York in style. I have also always been notorious for leaving items behind when I travel. I know again, you'd think that I would have this down. One weekend in NYC a few years back I left a license, a credit card, and a jean jacket in THREE separate locations, just to give you a flavour. I like to think I've gotten better at this, and of course it helps traveling with less to have less to leave behind. The one lost soldier on this adventure was my favorite hat from NZed, the sadness and the lessons continue

Impressions of America - I've now been gone almost two years and while not that long in the grand scheme of living, there's a few things that have changed/I've missed out on while away. For one, and probably most obvious to all of you, is that I have no idea about pop culture. Many of you would refer to a commercial or some new fangled Checking In idea on Facebook, or the latest media buzz, that are all now totally foreign to me. As one friend said, it's like I'm an alien. The second big thing I noticed being back was how expensive things seem to have gotten, especially food. Now this may not actually be the case in real dollars, it could be because I've decided not to convert currencies while I'm away and just live in the currency I'm in. So either prices have gone up, or I've just gotten used to seeing lower numbers.

America vs. The World - As I've said in previous posts, living abroad has made me so much prouder to be American and appreciative of so many things I previously took for granted or didn't realize. Each time I come home I'm reminded of the differences......1) I can now confirm that food in America makes you feel fatter. Again, maybe this was because I ate every meal in a restaurant for two weeks, or that I frequented mostly pub food, but I was definitely feeling the difference - even at the American italian restaurants. 2) Doing errands in the U.S. is easier than anywhere in the world (if you're American :), even in NYC. In one hour and a six block radius in NYC, I took down the post office, bank, found a halloween costume, found a camera charger, updated my cell phone at a Verizon, bought out Anthropologie's sale rack, and all while drinking a to go coffee - America the Beautiful. And all of these things were made even easier by the existence of customer service. In Italy, I'm pretty sure that those errands would take me three separate weekends to three separate distant parts of Rome, where I would be met with resistance if I raised any sort of customer inquiry or concern. Even London, where I ended my two week trip, while a lot like home, is seriously lacking in the customer service department.

Home - As I've said before, home has become a relative term for me and mostly has to do with where/when I get to see all of you. On this trip "home" I was especially reminded how important you all are to me in that definition. Getting to see friends in NY/CT/NJ, friends who journeyed from DC, say goodbye to the Roc, say hello to Seattle and my Mom's new home, experience again how London, while in Europe, feels very much like a combo between NZed and the U.S. that its hard not to feel at home; and then to arriving back to home sweet Rome and again thinking, wait "I live in Italy?". I want to thank so many of you who bring home to me wherever you and I are - the NY/CT/NJ peeps for literally opening your homes to me; to my DC/Boston peeps for making the journey to bring me home; to Carry Bradshaw's house for giving me some laughs; my cousins in the Roc who I haven't seen in ages but made me feel right at home in a tumultuous time; to my Mom's best friend from childhood for welcoming us both as my Mom makes a new home in Seattle; to Del and Les for their expert London tips; to the Queen of England and all previous royalty for showing me their home; and to the LJs for opening their new shared home to not just me, but a friend from home. So I will amend a previous post by saying, you can go home again. Thank you - you mean the world to me

Highlights - There are so many, but here's a chosen few 1) revisiting my pre-teen love of pranks and fortunes; 2) meeting and spending time with new babies and babies to be; 3) dance/karaoke party combo; 4) seeing my Mom's energy and excitement for a new life ahead; 5) and realizing how small the world is.

Eating highlights - As you know other than helping my Mom move, my main goal in my trip home was eating, here are a few of the highlights - 1) Wegmans/DiBellas/Aladdins, god I am going to miss/do miss Rochester cuisine; 2) guacamole; 3) scallops; 4) making dinner in one of the best kitchens I know in CT; 5) tater tots, 6) sake/sushi; 7) sweet potato fries; 8) bloody mary's; 9) wine sampling by do it yourself taste in London; 10) oh to-go coffees.

Fails - In every trip I mess up something. 1) one of my biggest mistakes this time was not taking enough pictures (even after buying that camera charger stated above). I hadn't met my friend Rebecca's baby yet, and was so excited to meet her after stalking her online and I somehow manage to take zero pictures with her or of her - extremely bummed.

In adjusting back to life in Italy, I'm trying to take advantage as much as I can of living here, as my days could be/are numbered. I jumped right back in with going truffle hunting (I tried to go olive harvesting, but you would be surprised how hard it is to convince someone to let you come work for free for them), and this weekend I'm off to Bologna for a cooking class, and stuffing my belly with torellini, prosciutto (when don't I), bolognese, and much much more.

When in Rome

A Truly United Nations

I realize I talk in abstract a lot here about the struggles I've had with liking my job, but I decided I should take a moment and try and really fill you in (since so many of you ask) about what it's really like to work for the United Nations.

-Au Canada: One of the interns at work was kicked out of his apartment with nowhere to go for his last three weeks in Rome. And while I know I said I was done offering up my place to peeps, I couldn't keep my mouth shut when I heard the hardship of my colleague from our neighbor to the North. One of the first things he said upon arrival at my humble abode - "It's so good to be able to talk to another North American who understands where I'm coming from, that I'm not crazy", to which I nodded and then had to swallow a giggle as he finished his sentence with "Ay?". Well, we had a nice little North American time over his week at my house where we bonded over things only NAs would get like commercials of "CLR" (my showerhead was clogged); I told him all my Canada jokes; he inquired about what it was like for everyone to talk crap about America; and the grand finale was over the weekend when he said "Happy Thanksgiving", and I informed him that Thanksgiving wasn't till November but it was a sweet gesture, to which he informed me that it was Canadian Thanksgiving that day. Au Canada. When I was incredulous that Canada also celebrates Thanksgiving, he said, "Don't you guys know when we celebrate it? I mean we know all your holidays?" To which I had to sit him down and explain that no, we don't know anything about Canada, except that you talk funny, have cheap drugs, and have the better side of Niagra Falls. He was crestfallen, but we made up when I offered to make a pumpkin pie to give thanks in honor of Canada. Having lived in a little brother country (New Zealand is the little bro to Aus and they have a similar relationship/jokes), I have a whole new respect for our Northern neighbor. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop making jokes

-The Food and Agriculture Organization: Reinforcing Stereotypes, Getting Back to Our Roots: FAO is going through a "renewal" where they're coming up with new branding strategies and slogans to market the organization. Well I recently coined the above slogan, based on the truly ridiculous things that I hear on a daily basis. Here's a few fun facts about the place that I work:

-The real Latin motto fiat panis, means "let there be bread", now I know why they

moved it to Italy, so much easier to deliver on the motto (see below on proteins vs. carbs)

-The building was built by Mussolini to house the Ministry of Colonies, aka Italy's attempt at world domination pre-Berlusconi and the bunga bunga strategy

-On any given day the building provides a series of funhouse gimmicks that are a test to see if I will actually lose my mind -

-the elevators: for some reason the elevators only go to the 7th floor and you have

to walk the last flight to the 8th. Conveniently I work on the 8th floor. The doors

have no release, so they are sort of like metro doors in that when they start to

close and you are in between them they just snap closed ON you. Additionally, walking into the elevator it's a 50/50 chance that when you push your floor all the lights (all floors) will light up. What all of this means in a building that is one city block, is that going anywhere in the building takes as long as my 2km walk to work and as opposed to being filled with the music of my Ipod is filled with either

my or others swears of incredulity that this is really the state of the UN bldg

-heating/cooling: does not actually exist, so it's basically like working outside. My

Mom sent me a gardenia for my birthday which I have kept in the office as a

gauge of how healthy the working environment is - it has suffered near death at

points and I think only survives to keep me going. When it dies, I leave

-the cafeteria: there is no rhyme or reason to anything and each day there is a new

challenge that the catering company comes up with. Their newest is, no takeaway

salads, you can only take away pasta or meat, but no salad or fruit - of course, logical, if only Seinfeld had visited FAO the show wouldn't have been canceled

for the plethora of material

So besides the physical/logistical characteristics of the building, you'd think at the United Nations that people would be of utmost quality/professionalism/awareness considering they work with people from different countries everyday and are supposedly the cream of the crop (no pun intended, but it's so easy). In my own little project team, there are 9 people from 7 different countries. Here's a few quotes of how 'aware' and 'professional' my UN colleagues are (WARNING: prepare to be offended):

-"You'll recognize him, don't worry, he's really dark skinned, he's the dark skinned Indian, you can't miss him"

-"Oh he just stays really late cause he's Asian, you know how hard working they are"

-"Jeez, that Chinese guy talks really loud" (the guy in question is from Kyrgyzstan and the

woman making this comment is Mexican and one of the loudest talkers I've ever met)

-"I really don't like this brochure, it's obvious they don't know how to feature colored

people. They don't realize you need to adjust your camera to take pictures/feature colored

people in publications"

-"No it's not about black or white, the fact is you have to deal with black people differently"

-To me/about me, "As you can see we've upped our appearance with hiring Elizabeth", "Elizabeth could you do the bit for us in this UN film, cause it will make our dept look better", "Well our one reservation about you doing this job is you're young, and a woman",

and finally yesterday the ultimate in professionalism "No Elizabeth, I'm sorry, but you

don't understand courtesy, you walk around here thinking you're smarter than everyone,

and you need to figure out how to learn some respect"(in a yelling voice in front of 5

colleagues).

-Italiana saves the day: And just when I thought I was about to lose my mind given the above, I was sent a gift in the form of two new Italian female colleagues, Paola and Laura. Italian women are a hard beast to crack and automatically skeptical of foreign women, and yet somehow this is my second female Italian gift at work. At IDB, I was sent Gloria who reinvigorated me and made my last six months there an ultimate pleasure (she's also to thank for me landing my current job), and now I have somehow gotten lucky again with Paola and Laura. They both started in September to help us finish up the project, and at first I was nervous, given that they're Italian and I now share an office with the two of them (as opposed to my former Spanish speaking colleagues). Paola is from Torino and went to Oxford, and I was preparing for ultimate snobbery and disdainfulness, and instead I got a new friend and confidante to laugh ourselves through the work illogicalness. Since she's from Torino, we initially bonded over my question of the difference between Gianduia and Bacio gelato (both hazelnut chocolate, but don't get Torinos started on Gianduia which is made there). She's been at FAO two years and has managed not to become 'one of them'. It is so refreshing to finally have someone who totally gets the insanity of not only the organization, but our project. Outside of work Paola also happens to be the friend I was waiting for - she's helping me on my quest to appear more Italian while making fun of me for doing it, she likes finding random clothing shops to go to after work to drown our sorrows and introduced me to the best little shoe shop (all shoes made in Torino of course), and best part - she has a scooter, and spoils me with rides around Rome. Laura is our new assistant and another breath of fresh air. Plus one for her that she actually speaks to me in Italian. Extra bonus point, is that she's promised to find me a TALL Italian boyfriend (Paola is trying to demand the tall boys for her, but she's short and I've told her that is selfish). The three of our contracts end in December and none of us have jobs so we're thinking of starting a bakery with America recipes, chocolate from Torino, and Laura's family to do the remodel and marketing - When in Rome

Proteins vs. Carbs: One argument I often have with my new office mates is regarding Italians love of carbs and our supposed fear of them. To fill you in if you're not aware, a typical Italian day goes likes this - Breakfast: Cookies (full stop), or if you're going to get fancy, Toast with honey, a Cornetto (croissant, chocolate or almond or jelly filled most likely); Lunch: Pasta, Meat, a Salad, Bread; Dinner: Pizza with Bread. I have had many any argument about how you need to eat protein for breakfast, even in the smallest form (milk in your cereal), to which I'm told, "You Americans, obsessed with protein. You don't need protein in the morning". I'm also often critiqued when I don't take bread with my pasta, this is unheard of and ridiculous. When I try to explain and say, "The pasta will already fill me up too much, I don't need the bread, I'll just have more salad or fruit or meat or ANYTHING else". To which I am told, "You Americans and your fear of carbs". I thought I had won the argument, well not really, you don't win an argument with an Italian, but I at least thought I'd made an impression, until I was told "Look at your life expectancy vs. ours and tell me you need more protein and less carbs". Well point taken Italy, I don't know how you do it - drinking wine everyday twice a day, chain smoking and not exercising, eating carbs and oil all day everyday, and tons of sugar - but I'm on board, maybe not for breakfast, but tell me your secret and I may come around.

Despite all the work craziness, I finally feel comfortable here, as I said in my last post (maybe it's all those scooter rides getting to my head) and I don't want to leave yet. I will have that to ponder over my upcoming limited city U.S./U.K tour. Tour dates include - NYC, ROC, and Seattle; and with a European appearance in London to finish off the journey in the Motherland. What I'm most looking forward to - seeing all of you that I will get to, seeing where my dear Mom will be starting her own new adventure, buying cheap American goods with my Euros, having at least one dance party, eating my weight in Mexican, sushi, brunch (with actual eggs), Wegmans subs, and having as many take away huge coffees as I want. And yes I know, I live in Italy and I have not forgotten that the food and coffee here are amazing - but sometimes, just sometimes, I miss America. So here I come - raise your glasses, get your dining tables ready and your stores open for business

While I'm away, my newest house guest (a mouse) will be taking care of my apartment. I've left him a note to not throw too many parties or get into my stuff, not let strangers in, clean up after himself, to make sure to take the garbage out, and above all - be gone by the time I'm back

Secret Italy

Parque Nazionale di Abruzzo,

2 hrs from Rome and full of Bears!

So I was on the hunt for bears and truffles

since it now truffle harvest season

And low and behold I found both,

one not pictured here cause they are

in my stomach

Don't be confused, this is Italy, not

New Zealand. But even I didn't realize

how beautiful the mountains are just

a few hours from Rome

Small medieval town of Scanno, Abruzzo, Italia,

my most recent weekend sojourn

There may be no "real" beaches in Monte Argentario,

but there are unbelievable beach clubs set into the rocks

with catering galore, floating rafts, speedos, and the glistening

Mediterranean - only caveat you must know an Italian to get in
Yes please

The sunset from Monte Argentario,

looking out at the island of Giglio

When I haven't had visitors over the last two months I've tried to squeeze in as weekend trips as my days in Italy appear to be numbered. And as I realized in New Zealand, you don't actually feel like you live somewhere or start to feel normalish until about the six month. So here's a bit of what I've been up to in "my real life" in Italy and a few new things I've discovered:

The Best of Italy: Italians are brilliant in that they distract tourists with the David, duomos galore, pasta, the Colosseum, you know all that ancient stuff, and then they sit back and laugh while lounging in the most beautiful natural places that they keep to themselves and make hard to find. I've recently discovered, thanks to three nice Italians, three beautiful places in Italy I had never heard of and I could not possibly access without a car and a family name. I get it Italy - keep the best for yourselves, but while you're doing it, could you at least be a bit more friendly with a stray American who actually lives here? I promise I won't tell. These three secrets are staying safe with me in the hopes I get invited back or invited even further into what is secret Italy...

How to Be More Italian: When I walk around Rome people, mostly shopkeepers will yell at me in English, and I often wonder, "How do they know I'm not Italian?". I also pondered this with a few of my visitors and we couldn't figure it out. Now at first Italians when you ask them this will tell you things like - because your hair is blonde (yes to them I am a blonde even though there are many real Italians with hair far lighter than mine), because your eyes are blue (again many Italians with blue eyes), because you're tall (again). So the mystery for me continued and I wondered, how/what I can I do to be more Italian, what am I missing? My friend Claudio finally broke it down for me, while continually telling me he didn't want to offend me, and here's what he said:

1) My hair is too wild, or in American terms - undid. And after all this time I thought I was

becoming a lady by drying my hair, apparently not enough to pass as an Italian. Claudio

instructed me that I would need to at least visit the salon once a month if I was poor, and

once a week if I have any money. Mind you this conversation with Claudio occurred exactly two weeks after a haircut so I'm really in trouble. I guess my two visits per year are not cutting it - literally

2) My face is too natural - Claudio told me I don't wear enough makeup to be

Italian, ESPECIALLY the fact that I don't wear lipstick or foundation - dead give away.

3) My walk - Claudio instructed me that Italians walk like they are in a fashion show and with the one goal for everyone to look at them. My walking with a purpose and especially

making eye contact while I walk or smiling is not going to make me an Italian

4) My eyes - No not the color, but "the sincerity". Apparently Italians always look at

people with a certain level of skepticism and my eyes are too frank, too open.

5) My dress - this one I knew and is made more difficult between seasons like spring and

fall when it is not blazing hot nor freezing. Apparently I dress to openly (meaning my cardigan over my shirt is unbuttoned instead of buttoned up to my neck) and with too much color and I wear sandals and shorts too late/early in the season, and my clothes

are too loose. In case you weren't aware, Italians for some reason feel cold far more than

we do and at the same time have an obsession with boots and dark colors.

So the challenge is on, I am now going to see if I can't trick a few people (that is before I open my mouth, obvi) into thinking I'm Italian. At the same time, there's a few things I'm unwilling to compromise on - namely my dress. I refuse to wear winter gear when it is 80 degrees out still, and luckily winter will help me with this come December. In the meantime, I'm going to work on adding some skepticism to my eyes, sashaying down the sidewalk, while wearing lipstick with my hair did. Photos to come

Cooking and Eating - I've finally gotten into a rhythm with cooking and general ingredient having in my house - of course always prosciutto, three kinds of cheeses, flour, sugar, coffee, and milk. And with that I can make almost anything with a trip to the local veg/fruit market. Similar to NZed, Italians don't mess around with nonsense or pre-prepared items in cooking. Everything is simple and easy to make from scratch. I've taken to making a batch of pesto, hummus, and bread at the start of every week, even though the amount of garlic I put in my pesto and hummus would be abhorrent to any Italian. This week I also conquered a cinnamon nutella cake, baked eggplant parm layered with prosciutto, and realized soaking fresh mozzarella in truffle oil is synonymous with, or even better than, floating with my boobs in the Mediterranean. Now I haven't conquered making gnocchi yet and if you saw the size of my kitchen you would understand why, but it is on my list in these next 90 days before I have to (maybe) leave.

La Bella Figura - I alluded to it on many a previous post, but la bella figura is an expression in Italian to mean - making a good impression, but it carries much more significance that is not translatable. I've struggled since I've arrived with how to really live in Italy and somehow rectify living here with all the things of guidebooks, movies, novels, and all your expectations. In March, I searched desperately for a book that would help me with this quest and make me feel like what I was experiencing was more normal. I was continually annoyed and disgusted by the countless books on rehabing a farmhouse, eating your way across Italy, or falling in love while being scootered around Rome and Tuscany. Now while I'm not saying those things don't happen here, there is also real life apart and part of the fantasy that is most of what you hear back in the States. Well, where was my good friend Beppe when I needed him? I finally found a book, just released called La Bella Figura, all about the true Italian spirit and written for a non-Italian audience. We should have collaborated since he includes many subjects included here like "food facism" such as not being allowed to order a cappuccino after 11am or the horror on Italians faces if you sprinkle parmesan on a pasta dish with seafood, or the treatment you encounter when walking into a clothing shop versus a hotel. He also has enlightened me on the why of many things I experience here. For one, Italian's obsession with the aesthetic, or in layman's terms all things beautiful. Now a lot of this I love and have embraced - like the careful setting of a table or always having fresh flowers; but it also explains why things not so pretty don't get done/attended to. Beppe's next book is due out in October on how Berlusconi has managed to stay in power for over 15 years (the longest leader since Mussolini). Anyway, needless to say, Beppe is my new best friend and confidante

Friends - And speaking of friends and confidantes. I often joke here about the difficulty of making friends while living abroad, but Italy and FAO have truly given me a whole new ballgame. First, Italians are very insular especially if you don't speak Italian well. Mostly because they stay close to home and value family and friends from childhood and don't really veer from that circle. Second, FAO is a constant coming and going of international people and you never know how long anyone will stay. Two of my closest friends when I came - Lidia and Nick, have already departed for Germany and Sierra Leone. And now another two close friends - Simone and Marat are off to Budapest and Sweden. And Giuseppe travels 80 percent of the time. All of which finds me somewhere in the region between transient international friends and insular Italians with my quasi quasi Italian, and calling an author my new confidante. At the same time, I feel so busy with social requests and invitations that I'm not sure I could handle more "friends" here in Italy, especially if I'm ever going to rehab that farmhouse or master Italian cooking

-What's Next? - many of you have asked me when I'm coming "home" or what's next.....well your guess is as good as mine. My contract expires Dec 14th and my Visa expires Dec 31st, so unless I do as those books say and fall in love real quick and get married in a rehabbed countryhouse, while riding there on a scooter, and making the whole feast myself with my Italian culinary skills - my days in Italy are numbered. Next destination - TBD, all offers are welcome