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Entry 1 of 72
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1/13/2008
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BUON NATALE!!!
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Merry Christmas! Because my Italian consists of Si (it's the same in Spanish), Ciao Reggazzi!, and the various dishes like Pizza, Lasagna and Spaghetti...being able to wish someone a Merry Christmas really impressed the tiny town of Remedello. It was my staple Italian phrase during the week that first week I spent with Silvia... and I was awesome at saying it. So awesome, in fact, that I prompted many one-sided, uncomprehended conversations by greeting randoms with the a hearty Buon Natale!. I was quite sad to see Christmas come and go... not only because I didn't get to spend it with my family but because with the passing of Christmas I lost my abitlity to chat it up with the locals. Good news, though! There is another word that exists that has quickly become my favorite... above all others... in any language. Auguri. This little unsuspecting word packs a punch! It can be used to say, "Happy Holidays", "Merry Christmas", "Congratulations", "Happy New Year"... the list doesn't stop. For example, a couple announces that they are going to have a baby: Auguri!, your brother graduates from University: Auguri!, your girlfriend get that gross hairy mole that was on the end of her nose removed: Auguri!. I really like it and it is short. Also, if you say it the Italians think you really know what you are talking about and so, with a slight change in vocab, I was once again able to fake my way into the good graces of the general public. Christmas at the Zavani house was definitly not like I am used to in Tennessee and it was not tender by any means. The presents had already been exchanged at random times during the week before; Silvia got her brother and Gian each a pair of underwear, a key chain for one friend, makeup for another, Monica, and a mirror for Gretl. And that was it. On Christmas day we got up like normal around 10:30 or 11:00, laid around on the couch in front of the fire until 1:00 when we ate an enormous lunch and then headed to the bar to see what everyone else was up to. The house didn't have a Christmas tree but the bar did so my world didn't completely stop. There was one strand of those plastic-y tube lights on a tree outside of their house... but no hooplah or fuss about major decorations. The only gift exchange on the actual day was the CD of old American Christmas music and a glittery, silver decoration that said "JOY" that Mom had brought from the States for me to give them... I also gave them a package of red toilet paper wrapped in a green bow. They used one roll while I was there, I think just to humor me, and then tucked it away. They will probably pull it out when I visit again; it's like the sweater that you are obligated to put on because you are going to see the relatives who so generously gave it to you. I liked it, but maybe it's American humor that is simply lost in translation. We put the sign in the window and took pictures under it. It was too cold to stand outside for the pictures so it really says "YOJ" but it is the thought that counts. They got a kick out of the fact that I had tried to write in Italian on the card and out it on the mantle for visitors to see, and laugh at. Her father put the music on so that I could listen to the music on during Christmas lunch. It caused a huge yelling match that included huge hand gestures and huge arm movements. The table placement was the same at every meal. Her brother Fabio at the head, me on his right and then Silvia, Mamá on his left and then Papá. The TV was at the other head of the table so that Fabio could watch while he ate. The music that his father had put on for me was drowned out by the TV. Papá turned off the TV. Fabio turned it on. Silvia says something in normal-Italian-loud voice. Her brother retorts with an Italian hand motion and an Italian-raised-voice. Papá and Silvia respond with hand motions, the occasional bang on the table and loud-for-any-nationality voices. This goes on for a while, I still can't hear the music, so Mamá and I continue to eat the delicious meal that is in front of us before it gets smushed or smacked off the table. Papá goes for more wine and Silvia gets up to smoke a cigarette by the chimney which causes another loud and grand discussion. I couldn't follow any of these little tiffs and was surprised and a bit frightened when it happened the first night that I was there... but by Christmas day I had grown to anticipate them. During the course of one of these animated arguments they would change topics about five times... and that is impressive considering they lasted on average under three minutes each with everyone talking at the same time and noone listening to the other. It was great. So Italian. And I really appreciated the fact that they didn't act any differently due to my presence. I really felt like part of the family... and realized that our family fights are so less extreme as far as intensity goes. That night we went into Asola to the "parrocchia de Asola" for midnight mass. Oh so Catholic and oh so Italian... I loved it. I couldn't follow really and so I spent most of the time with my head tilted all the way back or twisting around trying to look at all of the frescos that were on the ceilings and walls. People probably thought that my friends had brought me to be exorcised. I just couldn't help myself from thinking about how old the cathedral was and how much it has been through... all that it has seen. Many of the frescos had been covered up with plaster or some sort of white material but sometime during the last century a man was cleaning the walls and some of the covering came off. They began to slowly take off the covering but for some reason have stopped so only parts of saint, angels and all the holiness peeks through... I quite like the effect. The cathedral was freezing and everyone kept on their coats, scarves and gloves during the service. The "Silent Night" music played and they sang a different song but it felt nice to have a little something familiar on my first Christmas away from home. Didn't get sad til mom sent pictures of everyone on Christmas morning and I think, even though Italy is... well, Italy... I will be home for Christmas. --- five minute intermission--- lights will flash to alert you that the next act is beginning--- xoxcr |
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