I haven't been writing.  Haven't been doing anything not strictly obligatory.  I'm too depressed.  I've been drowning my sorrows in red wine and chocolate every evening before going to bed early and having nightmares.  This guy is gonna be the death of me.  Or at least of my waistline.

My American friend C from school convinced me to go out on Tuesday to relax and get out of our heads so to speak.  We went to a Hammam, (a Turkish Bath).  If you have never been to a Hammam, I'd highly recommend it but you'll probably have to leave the country to do so as we're gonna kick out all them Muslims (and them Hispanics too!)

The first big influx of Muslims here were the Moroccans in the late '70s early eighties.  When I came here in '84, they were all single young men doing anything for a dim; washing car windows, digging ditches, doing jobs Italians refused to do.  Now after a generation there is a large North African community in the central market area of the city with their own shops and restaurants and mosques.  The men had brought over their wives and their children have grown up more Italian than Moroccan, dressed in Western clothes and refusing to speak to their parents in Arabic.  Typical teens. 

The Hamman we went to is on a tiny alley across from a kebab place.  When we walked in the owner greeted us with little cups of soap with the consistency and color of earwax and sent us through to the baths.  They have a lovely little central open air space with a fountain in the middle.  In warm weather the women sit here and drink tea and relax.  (Men only get one evening a week here.  Gals only.) On the other side there are the warm rooms.  Some Hammams are large but in this case the place was tiny.  We stripped to our bathing suit bottoms and slathered ourselves with the earwax which foams up like crazy.  Then we sat in a tiled sauna for 20 minutes to soften up for "the scrub".  Next we showered and then the attendant told us to lay on a marble slab and she proceeded to scrub us down with a bath mitt made of fabric like sandpaper.  It was amazing and disgusting at the same time.  The dead skin comes off in rolls!  Oooooooooh it felt soooo gooood!!!  A half an hour of that and I felt new.  Finally, she plastered us with some kind of mud and we sat in the sauna for another half an hour.  When we left we were light as feathers!  The Hammam was filled with BIG naked women and their kids all chatting and bathing and scrubbing.  The attendant said locals come weekly for the full cleansing treatment.  No wonder they have such gorgeous skin.  One of the young gals that we started talking to looked 15.  I thought she was with her siblings.  She was a 27 year old wife and mother.  Damn!

Anywho.  It was wonderful.  Go find yourselves a Hammam before they all get closed down and the owners get deported.  xxoo me

Who woulda thunk it?  I'm looking upon George W with great affection, thinking, "Ahhh George, you were just a hapless cowboy stuck in a big poncho.  You surrounded yourself with evil men but you yourself weren't evil.  Just a simple guy.  I'd take you any day over what we've got." Now THAT is frightening...

It is THE DAY and all I wanted to do at school was curl up in a ball under my desk, but they expected me to work in that place!  The nerve.  So I will tell stories of my kiddies to stop thinking about what is happening over that-a-way.

One of the little kindergartners told me the other day that she came from Boston.  As she is Italian and barely speaks English I'm thinking she may have spent some time in Boston but is not exactly a native to Bean Town.  I asked her if she had liked it and in her broken English she said, "A koon scratch me and bite my head!",  all the while scratching at her arms.  "A KOON?" I asked. (I must admit at this point I was a bit worried.)  "Yes a KOON!. He scratch me and bite my head!"  "A big koon!".  So I asked, in a hopeful voice, (other options would have been too dreadful to consider), if it was an Orsetto Lavatore, the Italian word for raccoon. (translates into "Little washer bear", ain't that adorable??)  And she said YES!  So this is the only memory the poor kid gets out of time spent in Boston.  Being attacked by a raccoon. 

I teach reading to a second grade Italian girl from a massively wealthy, important family.  They own I****, a company that designs autos as well as other stuff for companies around the globe. Her family are all engineers and hoped that she would also do well in maths and sciences.  Not so much.  She is sweet but in a whole world of her own.  I often find her hiding in corners around the school "praying" or "talking to angels" or "just thinking".  Her birthday is in late December and that makes her "almost like Jesus".  Gotta love it.  Tuesday I read a book about Evolution to her class, (always a risky subject as many of the Americans here a "Christians"), and she told me that she was descended from Fairies.  Good to know.  Explains a lot.

 

Parents would be mortified to know the things children tell their teachers.  Since coming back from break my kids have told me:

 

His dad sent mom and the boys to live in Italy to keep them safe.  Yikes. (A Russian second grader)

 

Dad met mom in a bar where she danced with a pole and he brought her home.  They say it's great exercise. (Italian/Eastern European 4th grader)

 

Uncle lost everything, job, house, car and now lives in her basement.  (Italian/American 2nd grader) 

Mom is out all night at the club and sleeps all day so it's the nanny who does her hair.  One of the many mothers much younger than dad.  (Italian/Russian 3rd grader)

From the mouth of babes.

xxoo me

 

 

 

Proof!

On a walk behind our place the other day.  It was been Maine wintery cold since we came back from Finland, in the 20's, and the mountains are very white all around us.  Grace headed back to London today.  Going to stay in bed all day feeling sorry for myself.  Back to the wretched little ankle biters tomorrow morning.  There is an expression in Italy that says, "The Epiphany is the day that sweeps all the holidays away."   Ho hum.  I think I'll go plan my outfit for the 20th.  It will be all black as I'll be in profound mourning.  I wonder if I have a black veil?   xxoo me

 Hey check this out!  They like us. They really, really like us!


http://www.traveldailymedia.com/245019/turin-tops-list-of-eclectic-holiday-destinations-in-2017/

xxoo me

Helsinki's answer to Faneuil Hall in Boston

 Helsinki is a huge port with a lot of cruise ships and ice breakers and transport ships along it's coast.  It is part of an archipelago of 330 islands and there is water frontage around every corner.

Viking Line at end of residential street.

Sunset at 3pm.

Lovely city.  xxoo me

On the 31st we took a bus to Porvoo, a little village an hour north of Helsinki.  It is known to be a tourist destination because it is so quaint etc.  Well the older part of town is in fact quaint with narrow stone roads and pathways between colorful little wooden houses, all with traditional Christmas lights in the windows.  There are a couple of shopping roads that look like an old New England town, with cafes and stores catering to tourists.  But wander outside this area and the town takes on a distinctly different feel.  Very unattractive, functional buildings, clean but boring, unadorned neighborhoods.  Grace said the town where she was staying with a friend was much the same. 

Porvoo

 We did however find the most fabulous little tea and cake house.  The Finns definitely know how to bake.  There is a lot of Russian influence there, given the proximity, and this cafe was decorated with pictures of the Russian royals of the past.

xxoo me

Well forget the long-johns, Santa Clause and reindeer, snow or constant night!  Helsinki is too far south for all that.  We had 5 hours of light a day, (I won't say sun as very grey and cloudy), it was comfortably in the 30's and Santa and the reindeer hang out in Lapland 12 hours to the north!  And Finns weren't Vikings either!  Even so we had a very nice few days.  Helsinki center is small enough that we'd covered it all by foot by the end of our stay.  The people are very polite and helpful, if a little somber, and the city is clean and easy.  Everyone speaks English beautifully and I mean EVERYONE, from the bus drivers to the guy selling fish at the market.  In Italy you 'd be hard pressed to find a tour guide that speaks as fluently as our waitresses did.  It's not one of those cities that makes you "Ahhhhhh" as it isn't stunning like Vienna or magical like Venice, but it's the kind of place you feel immediately at ease.  It's a remarkably safe and calm city with little traffic where drivers follow the rules, there are few panhandlers, (we saw some gypsies at the train station but that was it), and strangers offer to give you directions ALL THE TIME!  You know, now that I think about it, we never saw police officers or any military presence except for some sailors coming off a ship moored at the port.  I'd move there if it weren't for the weather and the high price of alcohol.  Everyplace has it's negative side and Finland is expensive.  They are a lefty government that guarantees a certain standard of living to all of it's citizens who have free health care, university, retirement, childcare, affordable housing and a unlike Italy, it all works.  People are healthy, well educated, safe, and very attractive and well dressed!  But the don't go out to eat much and a bottle of wine will put them back a bundle.  A bowl of bean soup and a beer, (both very good by the way),  in a Russian restaurant our first night was about 50 bucks.  Sheeeet.  Clothing and all other "non necessities" are pricey too but as I didn't go up there to buy jeans that didn't bother me.  More later, xxoo me

The Lutheran Church in Senate Square

Lovely port shopping area like Old Port

Russian Orthodox Cathedral

Gorgeous architecture

Very Maine-like coast