Surviving May in Bologna

Dear friends

I should be writing about the coming of la Prima Vera, the onset of summer, dreadfully warm days and my Mediterranean suntan.  The burst of new bright colours of flowers and clothes alike and my friend Nereida who keeps saying: “Look, summer is coming!”.  

But now I am writing a whole different tale, one which starts with a cold front, or at least that is what I am calling it.  Next week will see May 30 and yet the weather in Bologna reminds me of a Stellenbosch winter, interrupted by swift afternoon visits by the sun.  For a girl that grew up in the Langkloof and actually really likes the rain its not so bad.  But the locals are frowning and the last two mornings I also thought that it was to cold for my Spring/Summer collection.

But it was this afternoon that tragedy struck and I was completely surprised by this Italian Spring.  During my visit to Lidl, my local shop, I heard the patter of rain, a little harder that was comforting as I forgot my umbrella.  But a little rain has never scared me and well you will not make the rain stop by complaining about it.  On my way out I was greeted by almost 20 Italians, refusing to step outside and to my utter surprise I saw that it was not rain but little white balls falling from the skies that created the little crowd.  Standing there, watching the hailstorm was so surreal.  And there was nothing for it, I had to go home.  The first steps were the hardest not knowing if I would run back to the gaping locals because it actually hurt to walk through the hail.  By my calculations from watching the little balls bounce on an umbrella or two I thought it could not be that bad, but you never know.  By all accounts it really didn’t hurt, except for the two balls that caught my nose!

And then the challenge of water puddles, rivulets and wind came.  But still I walked with dignity across the parkinglot, across the street and down the street to my house.  Crossing yet another street I was shocked to see the amount of water that had fallen with the hail.  A car driving through a puddle made a spray higher than my head – one which I thankfully just missed.  But already I was soaking wet and thinking things just can’t get any worse.  A couple, hiding under a big umbrella shouted something to me in Italian and all I had to do was to make that well known Italian hand gesture that I translate as: what the hell???

Of course a crazy wind would hit me right from the front, lifting my flowery scarf in a balloon above my head.  That, I guess was the end of my dignified walk.  Water running down all my sides, a ball or two hitting my nose, I came to a river in the middle of the road.  But there was not even time for hesitation, I had to pull through.  It really didn’t matter because I was already soaked to the bone.  Just beyond that I saw the destruction of the hail.  Mashed up leaves mixed with white balls in a slush covered the whole sidewalk right to the next river in my way.  

But after all that I arrived home, for the most part safe and unharmed.  Trudging through reception there was nothing romantic about my squeaking shoes, the horrible sucking sound of my socks and mascara-covered face.  Slopping, dripping and shivering I arrived to my door.  But this I can say, I survived a hailstorm in Bologna.  And we will put that under my done that, no need to do it again list in my book of European adventures.

all roads lead to Rome

During my visit to Florence I was captivated by the Renaissance, especially the art that was produced during this period.  My visit to Rome has, however, opened my ignorant eyes to a people of extraordinary gifts and talents.  The Romans.  From the legend of Romulus and Remus; abandoned, raised by a wolf the brothers fought each other and Romulus, the victor, founded his Rome.  After all I have seen I have to wonder who was this people who had the ability to conquer most of the world known to them, but also engineer and built extraordinary things.

And yes, extraordinary their creations were.  In Rimini I stood before a bridge that in 2000 years had never needed any repairs and I walked through The Colosseum that is the archetype for the world’s sports stadiums since AD 80.  According to my Eyewitness Travel, that is; but for the record I made the same remark during my visit.

This blog is not a summary of my research on the Roman Empire – for that I will have to write a thesis.  But rather to rethink things that struck me. The first of which is that you can never get away from the Romans.  I bought a National Geographic (Feb 2013) in which the main article is about Libya, precisely an Unseen Libya-reclaiming its forgotten past.  And what do you know: “Among the world’s largest, best preserved ancient Roman cities, Leptis Magna, flourished under the rule of Septimius Severus, who was born here.”  This was coincidence enough, reading about a city that rivalled Rome as an urban centre but my next read, a fictional novel from Bernard Cornwell was just too much: “But these Roman buildings were all joined together and made of stone and strange narrow bricks…; At the centre of the town, where the four streets met in a wide open square, there stood a vast and wondrous building…surely no one living could make such a thing; so high, so white and so sharply cornered.  Pillars held the roof high, and all along the triangular space between the roofs peak and the pillars’ tops were fantastic pictures carved in white stone.’  I have to explain that my book is about Arthur and his round table of knights.  Even in Harry Potter the Roman Emperor, Septimius Severus found his way as the double agent Professor Snape.

I wonder what the Romans would think if they saw us now.  And I cannot help but wonder where the genius has gone that founded and supported that empire.  Maybe we saw it during the renaissance when Leonardo da Vince and Michelangelo designed and engineered.  But where is it today? Or is it used to make iPhones?  Haha, I really do not want to offend any modern day hero but sometimes I wonder if we spend too much on entertainment?

Nope, I believe modern geniuses are truly doing great things.  Someone once said: God created earth; everything else was created by man.  So maybe in a few 100 years people will look back to our time and think; wow, now this was something.  Because the Romans, they were truly something.

 

 

 

 

 

the price for my adventure

Yesterday I received an email with a questionnaire concerning my time abroad.  For those of you that do not know why I am fortunate enough to write about life in Italy just a bit of back ground.  I am studying on a scholarship for ten months in Europe as a part of an exchange on my PhD in Food Microbiology.  I received the scholarship from Eurosa which (shortly) organises exchanges between South African and specific European students.

While reading the questions I realised that I was supposed to have good positive answers – this will be used for future marketing and something about my upbringing prevents me from saying anything negative. Something about the hand that feeds you…I think.  Although there are a thousand wonderfully brilliant things about spending ten months in Italy, there is also the ‘not so great’ part.  And while I was between two fires (omitting certain truths on the one hand and offending my kind sponsors) I thought: here on these pages I might tell you the omitted truth.  I might feel better and you might realise that nothing is picture perfect.

My greatest regret is the time I have missed and am missing in South Africa.

-The last days of my father’s life.

-The engagements of no less than 6 friends (so far) and even more birthdays.

-The wedding of one of my dearest friends.

-Long walks, big coffees (that I never finish) and silly laughs; deep serious conversation about why my head is all messed up right now and worship time.

-Going to dress fittings with my soon to be married sister and long tea times at work.

I am sad. These are things I will never get back and it is a very high price to pay for my adventure.  A price I did not properly acknowledge before setting out.

I was warned about the three month curve, where you start missing everything that is home and your new world has lost much of the excitement.  I miss the comfort of my own workspace, I miss walking around the corner to Wouter’s lab and asking a thousand questions…in Afrikaans.  I miss happy voices in the lab and having a gathering around my computer screen looking at youtube videos.  I miss 24 h access to my lab and the University of the Free State gates.  I miss solving problems in Afrikaans and having freedom to roam through the whole department.  I did not think about how difficult it would actually be to work in a foreign laboratory and in a foreign language.

I try not to think if my decision would have been the same if I could tell the future.  Too much has happened. But I have come to realise a few things:

-Anything you do in life is completely up to you.

-South Africa is a wonderful, mysterious, beautiful country full of adventure.

-Never ever think that the grass is greener on the other side. It’s not.

-People are the same, everywhere; and you will do well to concentrate on the positive in them.

-It is really difficult to settle down in foreign country, even more when you do not speak the language.

But with all this missing and difficulties I am excited and happy with all the new people in my life.  Most of them are almost crazy but all the best people are.  I am excited about learning more than I would have during three months in SA.  I am very grateful for all the opportunities, travel, learning, people, friends, even learning about Italian verbs and of course learning about myself. With everything going on I am happy here in the ‘verre vreemde’.

Talking about Turin

A local told me that Torino is the Paris of Italy.  Another told me she had never visited because legend says, it would be the last city you ever visit.  For me Torino can be described as all that and much more.  First, in winter I can definitely see the reason for the nick name the Devil’s city.  The Giardini Reali especially, has a haunted look with leafless trees standing higher than the buildings.  But when you keep walking to the Piazza Castello and walking down the streets via Roma and via Po you get a distinct fashionable feeling.  I would add, city of balconies, as you can see in the pictures with this post.

In preparation for my weekend in Torino I marked the Mole Antonelliana which houses the National Museum of Cinema.  The appeal was the view from the top of the dome and I got there just before sunset.  Apart from the hazy view that I have come to associate with Europe, the Mole was absolutely breath taking.  Ironically it was the museum that caught my attention and sold Torino for me.  From the glass elevator right in the middle of the building that takes you to the top of the Mole, I could see most of the museum and I was enthralled.  The museum takes you from the first shadow puppets to the first projectors which were called magic lanterns.  Everything is covered to reasonable modern movie making techniques.  I loved it and would love to write a whole story on it, but as there is more to Torino I will have to move on.  If ever you find yourself close by, go and visit this magnificent place.

Second on my list was the Palazzo Madama.  Torino was previously the capital of Italy and the royals lived in this beautiful palace.  It was by far the most beautiful palace I have ever seen with its famous Juvarra staircase and balconies and private garden.  Just outside the palace, piazza Castello leads to all the major shopping streets and I took a walk down via Po to the river which carries the same name.  On the banks of the river I sat for a long time, musing over the difference between European and South African culture, the romance of taking a walk on the river banks and the general beauty that always accompanies water.

Next came the National museum of Egypt which is the second biggest museum in the world.  I must admit, I expected it to be bigger, being the second biggest in the world and all.  But nonetheless it was well worth the two hours of my weekend.  I have never seen such beautiful statues and the whole collection of items in a tomb of an architect Kha.  Kha’s wife, Merit died before him and he used his own sarcophagus for her.  This was slightly too big so he stuffed linen with his name all around her body to fill the coffin.  Keeping in mind what the Egyptians believed about death and the life after, I thought this was the most romantic gesture.

I tried the cuisine, loved the wine, the coffee, the street performers and the sites I got to see. Travelling home with the fast Italian train I was happy with a wonderful weekend and already planning the next one.

Spierwit Sneeu, Soms

In my klein kindertjie drome het ek altyd aan sneeu gedink as iets wat in ‘n sprokiesland hoort.  Waar prinsesse deur prinse gered word, waar drake vuur blaas en diere kan praat.  Ek het nie ‘n winterwonderland raak geloop toe ek my voete weer op Italiaanse bodem geplaas het soos wat ek voorspel het nie.  Reen en mis ja, maar geen berge en dakke met wit komberse nie.  So ek het opgewonde gewag vir die dag waarna ek al so lank uitsien.  En wonder bo wonder het die dag aangebreek met ‘n onverwagse verrassing. 

 

Oppad terug van ‘n uitstappie in die dorp, het ek en my vriend Cristian in beide sneeu en reën geloop!  Dit was baie donker en jy kon slegs in die straatligte die wit vlokkies sien, maar dit was daar.  En dit het my nostalgies laat dink aan die kinderstorie waar Jakkels met Wolf se vrou trou.  Ek het die res van die aand vir Cristian probeer verduidelik dat almal so hartseer was omdat Jakkels Wolf se vrou gesteel het, dat dit begin reën het terwyl die son skyn.  Nodeloos om te sê, ek het geen idee of hy agter die kruks van die saak gekom het nie, maar die sneeu en reën het my oortuig dat daar iewers iets aan die gebeur is… iets wat ons nie kan sien nie. 

 

Die volgende oggend het my gegroet met wit komberse oor alles en vir twee dae lank het die sneeu neer gesif na my voete.  Dit is ‘n snaakse ding, sneeu.  Soms val dit sonder dat jy dit kan sien, ander kere is daar vlokkies so groot soos R5 muntstukke.  Dan lyk dit asof die sneeu klein veertjies is, van Jan en die Boontjie rank se goue gans wat haar donsies uitskut. Hierdie veertjies sweef in die lugstrome asof hulle die wêreld se tyd het om by hul eindbestemming te kom.  En dan net 10 minute later lyk dit soos klein wit diamandjies wat uit wolke gegooi word en iewers in my agterkop sing ek noodgedwonge saam met Rihanna – Like diamonds in the sky… Soms is dit nogal skrikwekkend as hierdie –harder as wat hulle lyk- diamand sneeu vlokkies in jou gesig in waai soos geen reënbui dit durf waag nie.  Dit laat my wonder hoe verskriklik erg ‘n regte sneeu storm moet wees.  En ja, as jy teen hierdie tyd gewonder het, ek het dit alles ondervind in die twee dae wat dit gesneeu het.

 

Daar is ook ‘n ander kant, die kant waarvan al die Italianers my vertel, waaroor hulle my waarsku van busse wat laat kom en paaie wat nie meer veilig is nie.  Dit het my die eerste middag oppad huis toe getref toe my gewone 10 minute stappie in ‘n 30 minute hindernisbaan verander het.  Probeer jouself modder vuil slush puppy voorstel wat tot by jou enkels kom met geen droë grond om op te loop nie.  Baie koue voete en ander ledemate soos jou neus en wange en vingers.  Ek is nou nog verward oor die bekende frase: “Dashing through the snow…”. 

 

Maar teen die einde van die dag mis ek my wit komberse as ek nou by my venster uit kyk.  En ek hoop dat my uitstappie na Torino, ‘n noordelike stad in Italië, hierdie naweek weer diamandjies of veertjies sal op lewer.  Dan, as ek veillig terug in my koshuis kamer is, sal ek julle alles daarvan vertel. 

The Founding Post

Addressing the unknown audience that is you, I am reminded about the first time I wrote a bulk email to many unknown women as part of my work for a NGO some years ago.  I guess the proverbial ‘gogga wat jou byt’ had come into my life that day as I frequently find myself craving an audience for my thoughts. I have been pondering the words blog, blogging and blogger for a while now, with the main question for what purpose.  

I guess, and as you can see I am doing a lot of guessing, it is here that I will find the answers. To you, my unknown audience, I will divulge in, hopefully graceful English and my mother tongue Afrikaans,  the ins and outs of my life.  And maybe with your help I might find some answers to life’s questions and just maybe my need to be heard will be satisfied.

Here’s to hoping.