New dilemma.  I have put off opening a bank account here until now because, well, like everything else, it's complicated.  Sooooooo.  This month I opened an online account.  Or I have been trying to for the past three weeks.  Firstly, opening any bank account for anyone here entails a huge amount of documents and certificates and other paper products, (proof of residence, proof of employment, proof of identity, tax ID number etc.).  Then there is the issue of being American.  It has become increasingly difficult for Americans to open accounts here because of the new laws that say that all overseas incomes, investments and holdings have to be reported back to the IRS.  The U.S. doesn't want to miss out on their taxes due.  Double taxation.  Joy.  Secondly, banks charge exorbitant fees for every move you make.  Putting money in, taking money out, the air you breath...whereas the online account is fee-free.    Anyhow, all of this aside, I applied for my account in the beginning of the month.  Filled out all of the online paperwork, took in all the documents to their city "space" used just for that "need a human to check ID's and such" occasions, and was told my account would be up and active within a week.  Well it took about ten days for me to be able to access the account online but I am still unable to access my money because as it is a virtual account there is no physical bank to go to to take monies out of.  Of course I should be able to do so with my free ATM card, debit card and/or credit card but therein lies the biggest issue.  They still haven't sent it.  I have been calling and occasionally actually speaking to humans for the past two weeks and they hadn't, until this morning, been able to give me, (or us because GP has taken control)(it's that loss of independence thing again), a definitive answer as to where the card is.  This morning they said they were having bottleneck issues because so many people had applied for accounts in January.  They are sure the card will be sent out on Friday, (which means Monday at the earliest).  In the meantime I have been having my salary, huge as it is, directly deposited into this new account because that's one of their stipulations and it insures me I will have money at my fingertips at all times!  Uhhhh.  Not exactly.  xxoo me

The "big snow" came a day late and it's not much.  It's just very slushy and wet.  It is enough to cause schools to cancel afternoon activities and drivers to be more dangerous than usual.  Also have I mentioned how a heavy rain or wet snow can knock out traffic lights?  The world's eighth largest economy and they can't keep their lights on.  xxoo me

All the cities in north western Italy are on alert for a "big snow" tomorrow.  I'll believe it when I see it.  Three flakes will come down and they'll all go into panic mode.  I'm sure the supermarkets were impassible today.  Personally, I'm ready for spring.  xxoo me

Eventually you get used to certain things that in the beginning seem intolerable.  I've become used to living in a tiny space.  Though I'd love to have more room, I'm no longer feeling squeezed and confined.  I haven't had a screaming fit about no storage, no privacy, no exercise room, (yeah right), for a couple months.  But there are still so many things that have me longing for home.  Mostly it's the ease of familiarity.  It's familiar therefore it's easy.  Anything I do here comes with questions and hesitation because I don't really have it down yet.  It leads to a sense of insecurity.  I count on GP doing so many things for me here that I'd never dream of him doing in the States.  Making appointments, taking my car to the garage, paying every bill.  I've lost my independence.

I miss the comfort of English.  I miss knowing what everyone is saying in every situation.  Even with background noise.  After 30 years I still have trouble with talking on the phone and reading the paper and watching the news.  The vocabulary the news people use is so different from spoken Italian. They use really long words!  I could take classes or read more but I'm simply too lazy and unmotivated.  Of course not following the news means I'm cut off from so much.  I don't know what's going on in the country.  I know nothing about the politics.  The other day someone mentioned the president and I couldn't think of his name, (Letta).  Sad.  But do I really want to know anything about Italian politics.  Nah.

So instead of being immersed in Italian life, I sort of live on the edge of it.  Ah well.  At least the food and wine are available at the edge...  xxoo me

The Alpini are the branch of the Italian military assigned to the mountains.  They have fought in the Alps for the past I don't know how many wars and mostly on skis.  Today, Gp and I went up snowshoeing to our usual place, Pragelato.  The Alpini are based nearby and use this ski area and the national park attached for training.  We see them up there often, dressed in their fatigue ski gear, tanned and bearded.  Today there were soldiers all over setting up for the annual Alpini competitions.  (Who knew?)  For the first time I saw a woman and a black guy in their ranks.  This is a big deal because women have a LONG way to go before they are no longer considered the "weaker sex" here.  (Think Berlusconi)  Also the black soldier must be a first generation Italian because immigration from Africa to Italy is only about 30 years old.  It is still rare to see people of African descent in any capacity other than "immigrant", working in the markets or doing some sort of menial labor.  Progress!  Anyway, I digress.  The Alpini competitions have ski races and snow shoe races and marksmanship.  They also compete with their search and rescue dogs, a bunch of whom were caged in the back of big vans, ready to practice/play, when we got there.  There was much barking in the air!  There were some Goldens and German Shepherds but the dogs seemed to mostly be big shaggy mutts.  I believe they use rescue dogs and as long as they are large and furry they can join up.  When we started out it was one of those perfect mountain days; sunny, bright blue sky and comfortable.  We tromped up to the "refuge", the hut where they have lodging and food, and stopped to eat and rest.  It was so lovely we ate outside at a picnic table with our jackets off.  After lunch we went in the bar for a coffee and 10 minutes later on coming back out, walked into the flipping arctic circle.  The sun had gone behind a peak and the wind had picked up and was blowing up all the powdery snow.  We had a hell of a time getting down off the top of the mountain.  We had to keep turning our backs to the wind because the blowing snow was blinding and the gusts were so strong we had to hold ourselves in place with our poles.  It wasn't until we made it down into the calm of the valley that we could take it easy.  Oh the excitement!  It was the perfect excuse for a hot shower and an afternoon nap, both of which I enjoyed.  xxoo me

Abandoned farm house still used by shepherds in the summer

Cold sunny day

The neighbor across the hall has just set off his burglar alarm again.  He does it on a weekly basis.  Fortunately he turned it off quickly as I have a wee bit of a headache today from too much Limoncello last night.  This is what happened.  While waiting to pick up our little girl, who has returned with many tales about her week in Dublin, GP and I decided to go out for pizza.  We met GP's new colleague and his wife at one of our favorite places in the center. They are newly married, 6 months, and still all dreamy-eyed and cute.  He looks just like an over weight Ben Affleck in his bearded stage. After dinner the "men" were talking about their new venture when for some reason "Ben" mentioned that his father used to work with GP at his first job 30 odd years ago.  I said, "How old is your father?", to which he answered, "He was born in 1960."  I WAS BORN IN 1960!  This kid who GP is now in business with could be MY kid!  This is when I started hitting the just delivered Limoncello.  More than two shots gives me a headache.  I had more than two shots.  These two kids could very easily be our children but are already mature, responsible adults with careers and enough gumption and money to invest in a upstart company.  At 26, (which is their age!!!), I was a complete and utter idiot with no idea about what I was going to do with my life.  In fact I don't think I started finding my footing until a good 15 years after that!  People like this make me think I wasted a lot of time I'll never get back.  I lived in Italy for close to 7 years back in my 20's.  I remember practically nothing of that time except that I lived to go home summers.  Wasted opportunity.  When back in the States I drifted from one job to another following GP around as he changed jobs building his career.  More waste.  It wasn't until I became a mom and decided to return to school at 40 that I was proactive with my life and future.  Which is why the Limoncello.  Plus the restaurant makes it's own and it's very yummy.  xxoo from Depressed, Old, Headachey me.

Here's my day.  It started early, early because my baby was off to Dublin for 4 days on her 10th grade school trip.  They are doing Irish studies so will visit the pubs where James Joyce hung out, see Yeats statue in the park and go to two plays by modern Irish playwrights.  Hmmmm.  And where did I go in 10th grade?  Oh yeah.  Nowhere.  So their bus to the airport left at 6:30 so I volunteered to stay home and close up the apartment two and a half hours later when I went to work.

School is a mess.  It's the worse combination of American cut-throat corporate business and Italian disorganized bureaucracy.  There are over a dozen teachers leaving after this year, (and some sooner), either because they are fed up with the way the school is run or because the admin. didn't renew their contracts.  These are the ones who dared to speak up about the many problems the school has but doesn't admit to.  Some of the teachers are excellent and I hate to see them go.  Ironically most of the best are the ones not being re-upped because they "stirred up trouble".  I have no idea if I'll be brought back.  I hide in my library and try not to look obvious.  I'd love to say what I really think but I want to hold onto the job until Grace has finished high school as it's so damned convenient.  It's getting hard to hold my tongue though.  Not exactly my strong suit.

After school I had my 3rd dentist appointment.  Did Mom bottle-feed us with sugar water or something?  I remember brushing my teeth and I think we had fluoride.  Yet Grace has never had a cavity and I had a mouth full of silver by her age.  Today was a big one.  He shot me up with numbing meds and started drilling and digging and hammering.  At one point I thought he'd break my jaw, he was pushing down so hard with his chipper.  I left with a lip like a raw 10 ounce steak hanging from my face.  Will now take a break before starting on my top teeth 'cause I'm out of money.

Had to stop to pick up a frame that I'd ordered from Leroy Merlin, a French owned Home Depot kind of place.  Being Italy and being French it was not that simple.  I couldn't pick the frame up in the store but had to drive around to the back of the building to the "pick-up" area.  So far so good.  The "pick-up" entrance is unfortunately in a tiny, fenced-in area where maybe three cars can fit and ten try to.  I managed to get in but getting out was tricky, especially as I was backing out into rush hour traffic on a motorway! 

So with frayed nerves, frame in hand, flapping lower lip, I made my way home to my sofa.  So here's the question of the day.  Have any of you ever drunk wine from a straw?

xxoo me

The hard thing about living this life with the International school, is that there is so much coming and going.  I believe I mentioned it last spring when changes were afoot.  Well Grace has just found out 2 of her gang-of-five will not be here next year.  One friend is returning to Germany as her father's contract here is up while the other is off to boarding school.  Her graduating class will be down to under 25 at this point as it's doubtful they'll be any newcomers at this late stage.  Families try not to move their kids in the last two years of the IB program as their classes are two year continuous courses.  There will have to be some merging of groups next year...
xxoo me

Do you remember the film "Brazil"?  Do you remember the final dream/fantasy scene where the main character is actually being tortured, his mouth forced into a horrible grimace by some sort of sadistic dental apparatus?  I just came from that.   But in my case, fortunately, I felt no pain and my fantasy wasn't about the lovely countryside but the cute baby dentist who works on my teeth.  I had the second of a gazillion appointments to replace my old fillings.  The doctor shot me up with local anesthesia and then told me to rinse and spit.  Have you ever tried to rinse and spit when you can't feel anything below your nose?  From one side of my mouth I drooled, from the other I shot a spray into the air that hit the wall.  Amazing how much wall I got wet with one little mouthful.  After 30 minutes or so they were done but the lower left part of my face stayed numb for about 30 minutes.  When I looked in the mirror I looked like I'd had Botox!  Half of me looked ten years younger than the other.  Of course I could only smile with half my mouth too but you can't have everything.  May have to consider this a little further....  xxoo me

Rumors!  There were no RPGs!  GP heard it in the garage from the gardener who heard it from the baker who called the cops.  But unless it's a national secret, it's not true because there is nothing about large scale weaponry used against the bank on any of the news networks.  We'll wait and see.  Foggy cold morning.  I'm feeling better but Grace is down for the count.  xxoo me

Our neighbor, Arturo Vidal, had over 200,000 dollars worth of cash and jewelry stolen from his house last night.  Look him up, he's the soccer player for Juventus.  Half of that was cash.  Who in hell leaves 100,000 bucks lying around?  Mind you he does not live in our condo building.  But he lives in what would be quite modest for a big time American athlete.  He has a townhouse we can espy from our back garden.  Fortunately, or not, we have little to steal.  But the idea of thieves in the night not 20 yards away is spooky!  We were all tucked up in our beds as we're all sick.  We made it through 8 days in Morocco ingesting God Only Knows how many germs, only to catch something on the flight home.  Damned Italian tourists!  GP was in bed with a high fever for 2 days but I dragged my aching body back and forth every day to school because it has a stupid policy that says you need a doctor's note for even 1 day out.  I have no desire to go sit in the doctor's office for an hour or more just to get a note saying I'm too ill to work.  It makes no sense which I suppose is the
whole point.

This morning GP and I went into the center to do some errands.  There were police everywhere and this afternoon there was a large protest in the main square.  Seems the head of the region of Piemonte, (the Governor more or less), cheated on his election, stuffing his ballot box with 10,000 or so extra votes.  What's sad about this is that it happened 4 years ago and they've just figured it out.  Or gotten around to publicizing it and removing him from office.  Anyway, he belongs to the semi-fascist party, the Northern League, who are very anti-immigration and separatists.  They want the Northern regions, the wealthy, industrialized and therefore biggest tax payers, to be independent from the scum suckers of Rome.  Well that ain't gonna happen.  Those scum suckers don't get their salaries paid by the poor rural south.

Now my next note of exciting news from Italy is that not only our neighbor but also a bank down at the bottom of our hill was robbed last night.  On our way to the city today we passed it.  The front windows were shattered, the ATM looked like it was wrenched out of the building and there were police all around.  Well we just heard on the news that is was "attacked" by a group of Romanians with 2 RPGs, (that's Rocket-propelled grenades people!!).  They shot them from the bakery parking lot across the road shocking the hell out of the baker who was working at 4 o'clock in the morning.  He called the police who arrived in record time and actually caught two of the four guys.  They never should have torn down the wall.  All the criminals came pouring over into western Europe like rats off a sinking ship.  Or more like heat seeking missiles.  The heat being the wealth of eastern Europe. 

Enough cliches.  I'm going back to sleep now.  Even my kidneys hurt.  xxoo me

Part 6:  Our last few days we spent in Essaouira, on the Atlantic.  The Medina is much smaller than in Marrakesh and we had it figured out within a day.  We stayed in a typical Riad. A Riad is a sort of guest house with a central area open to the heavens which lets in air but little sun.  All the inner doors and windows then open into this central area.  It gets mighty hot in Morocco and this is an ancient system that kept people cool.  Lots of shade.  One of the walls of the Medina is built right on the rocks over the ocean.  Huge breakers crash against the walls and the spray leaves a constant mist in the air of the first few roads nearest the wall.  Farther in one would never know the ocean was nearby.  Essaouira is a whitewashed, bright blue shuttered kind of place.  Where it's clean and pretty, it's very pretty.  Where it isn't, it's because it's dirty and dank.  However, there a a lot of little hidden surprises.  Our Riad, for example, was down a tiny, damp, smelly, dark alley.  I had serious doubts when we saw the entrance.  But once the door was opened all doubts disappeared.  Inside is a true oasis.  There is the tiny center garden surrounded by seating area and a wood fireplace for cold evenings.  Looking up through the middle to the blue, blue sky you see 4 floors of balconies with carved wooden doors, intricate rod iron light fixtures, potted plants, and lovely colored tile work.  Of course being Morocco there is always a layer of dust everywhere but I was not discouraged.  On the roofs, on three levels, were terraces.  One where we ate a scrumptious breakfast every morning, (the French brought pastry and bread making to North Africa,), one for sitting in the shade, and the topmost for sunbathing.  I spent at least an hour up top each day.  Essaouira is well-known amongst surfers and has miles of beach and huge waves.  We took a long walk one day and watched locals give horseback riding lessons alongside surfing lessons and camel rides and dune buggy rides.  This town was much more relaxing than Marrakesh and we spent a lot of time doing absolutely nothing which was WONDERFUL!

Here are a few of my favorite things!  xxoo  me

Cats everywhere

This guy

Wow

I mean, really?

The colors

Proud camel

The beach

The tilework

More cats everywhere

scenes like this

My terrace hangout

Part 5:  If you take away the cell phones, internet and the questionable electricity, the Medina and older parts of the cities, are Medieval.  Craftsmanship is the real deal there as everything is made by hand in the same way it was made 500 years ago.  The leather goods, so lovely to look at, stink to high heaven when you get them home because the tanning treatment still uses cow urine and pigeon poop.  The gorgeous metal works are done over coal fires in tiny hole-like hovels in the walls of the souks, no ventilation or burn safety measures taken.  Carpets are woven by hand, cushions and mattresses stuffed with wool on the narrow streets.  Certainly there are no labor laws protecting the workers and so much is done in terribly hazardous conditions.  20% of Morocco's labor force work in industry of this kind, making exports mostly for European markets.  To be continued....

Real Estate office (really)

Woodworker

Mattress making

city workers laying pipes

Fish shop

Delivery day

Many streets too narrow for cars so use carts

Another Realtor

Live snail pusher

Crumbled house

Souk

Part 4.  Let me tell you about our Tuk-tuk adventure.  On our last night, we were back in Marrakesh after 4 nights in Essaouira on the coast, (to be discussed later).  We wanted to go back into the Medina for our last dinner and eat at one of the outside "restaurants", (for lack of a better word), where one gets thrown unidentifiable and unordered food and one eats it or not.  We couldn't find a taxi so we stopped a Tuk-tuk, the little motor bikes with an attached cab made of cardboard and plastic wrap.  You think I jest?  GP and I had already experienced the Tuk-tuk in Thailand but it was a first for Grace who found it terrifying.  Our driver was a lovely, cheerful guy who took us all on but three large westerners are a bit much for one little motorized wagon.  I think we blew the friction because it was smoking up a storm.  When we were about halfway to town a second Tuk-tuk pulled up beside us and honked his horn, (which sounds like a tricycle horn by the way).  Evidently this is the signal for a Tuk-tuk drag race!  At this point our driver got this huge shit-eating grin and gunned it.  Mind you this is in the middle of thick city traffic with we three and a none too thin Moroccan driver.  IT WAS SO FUN!  GP kept telling us to not lean on the sides because, seriously, they were made of plastic wrap, and Grace was screaming "Oh My God!", and I kept yelling "Go! Go! Go!" as these two teeny Tuk-tuks swerved and squeezed in between trucks and cars and horse-drawn carriages.  As we came up to the center square our driver was so hyped up he

Grace's phone shots

the driver

the other Tuk-tuk passing us!

didn't stop at the sidewalk but took us into the square, squealing around pedestrians, honking at bikers and donkeys.  When we finally stopped, Grace scrambled out of the cab before the brakes had stopped smoking.  GP had so much fun he over tipped the driver.  Did I mention it was SO MUCH FUN!?
xxoo me

Part 3:  The Moroccans are lovely people.  The eyes on the young women and children are dreamy.  Huge and dark and long lashed.  Women dress in everything from modern clothing to burkas.  They mostly wear head scarves and long robes which are colorful and sparkly.  Burkas fortunately were not the norm.  Haggling seems to be something taught at an early age as the price of everything is debatable.  GP, who loves to argue and is after all a salesman, was in 7th heaven.  We couldn't buy a bottle of water without him trying to get the price down.  Getting a taxi was excruciating to watch.  After all is said and done the vendors certainly came out on top though.  The prices we haggled and argued for are three times what the locals pay.  All of this is done in very good humor.  The locals were mostly friendly and helpful and very polite.  Whenever they nearly ran us down with a motorbike they always said "Pardon madam!'.  What I found amazing is how many languages they all spoke.  French and Arabic are the national languages but anyone working with tourists, (almost everybody), also speaks some English, Spanish, Italian, German and maybe Russian. 

Minaret

In front of a Mosque

A typical night in town

Selling there wares in the square

GP fighting over the price of a hat

The people live and eat on the streets, a small portable meal at a time, or a bite at an outdoor cafe.  The portions are small but they eat frequently and restaurants are open and serving at all hours.  There are hawkers selling pastries and sweets everywhere and the women, who after marriage and children are quite, shall I say, robust, eat constantly.  I think Moroccans spend very little time in their homes.  The streets and square are full of working or strolling or playing people.  There is the call to Mosque five times a day.  The Muezzin calls from the minarets, towers, of the mosques through loud speakers.  It's a haunting, musical sound to which very few people paid attention.  I thought I would see men throw themselves to the ground and turn towards Mecca every time there was a call, but only when we were very near a mosque did we see any action.  There we saw a few people lining up to enter, taking off their shoes at the doorway.  I would have loved to see the inside of a mosque but non Islams are not allowed.  More later.  xxoo me

Part 2:  The weather was gorgeous.  Days in low 70's and evenings chilly 50's.  And as it is North Africa it's extremely dry.  Marrakesh, where we spent the first 3 days, is in the middle of the desert.  In the distance you can see the Atlas mountains, (snow topped), but we didn't make it out there as time was limited.  Our hotel was a short way outside of the Medina, the walled center.  We walked or took a cab back and forth everyday.  Both are equally hazardous.  Walking, because though Morocco is a growing economy with new apartment blocks and shopping districts going up all over, the concept of public safety and or public-space maintenance hasn't quite caught on.  Building sites have no fencing or "beware! hazard!" signs around them.  Equipment is left where last used, sitting on a pile of rubble usually.  Any damage done to sidewalks or roads due to building projects or "upgrading" (Ha Ha) is not repaired or finished.  There are huge gaping holes everywhere you walk, manholes left open, (the smell of which I cannot possibly describe), piles of rubble and trash all over.  The only reason there isn't an epidemic of rats is because there are so many cats.  There are cats in all the shops, restaurants under tables, hotels in the lobbies, every street corner and alley.  Ratty cats, skinny cats, fat sleek cats.  The cabs are a danger because they are death traps on wheels.  They rattle and squeal and shake as they zoom through traffic.  They share the roads with every conceivable vehicle.  There are fancy cars, buses and taxis like all big cities, but also wagons pulled by mules and bikes and motorbikes.  There are horse drawn carriages and Tuk-tuks, (motorbikes with little covered seating spaces), hand-pedaled bikes and teeny little pick-ups used for people transport, (and one camel?).  Oh yes, and camels.  Outside the Medina the roads are wide and in fairly good repair, but inside is like returning to the middle ages.  Many of the roads aren't paved.  The ones that are, are cobbled and missing half their stones.  If it ever rained it would be a disgusting mire but now it's just very dusty.  Once into the Souks, the roads become tiny narrow alleys where nothing larger than a bike should pass though they try.  The huge, huge, huge central square, Jemaa el-Fnaa, is the largest square in Africa and yet somehow it is packed!  There are thousands of people selling foods and goods, entertainers, (even snake charmers!), tourists and people just hanging around.  There is a lot of just hanging around there and in the most unlikely places.  Many people we

saw just sitting on cement blocks in abandoned lots or on the side of the road in the middle of the desert.  Huh?  xxoo me

building site

in Medina

typical road in Medina

traffic jam

Medina outer wall

Morocco!  Part 1:  Where to begin?  With surprises.  It doesn't stink.  Apart from the smell of exhaust from unleaded gas or whatever they use, it is a pleasantly odoriferous place.  Marrakesh is strewn with trash, spare cats and filthy beggars but it smells like spices and flowers and incense.  It may be because the air is soooo dry.  Or because there is always a light breeze.  Or because there are so many good smells that overpower the bad.  It is definitely a feast for the senses.  The Medina, the old city center, is all color and sounds and scents.  In the very center of the center are the souks, the markets.  There are piles of spices, orange, yellow, red, brown and green.  Woven rugs and bags and clothing.  Metal works and ceramics of all colors.  Then all of the foods!  Mounds of dried fruit, nuts and honey based sweets.  Citrus fruits galore.  Meats (minus pork) hanging from hooks, grilling over open fires, stewing in Tajines.  If it weren't for the cleanliness factor I would have had a field day.  Alas, there is that cleanliness factor....

spices and herbs

dried fruit and nuts

dinner?

veggies

couldn't figure this one out

just dyed yarn for carpets

biggest frickin' lock ever seen