Tuesday, March 29, 2011

In questo momento nella mia vita:

These past three months I have been over-consumed with my current life and greatly apologize for my lack of communication. You are all in my thoughts and prayers daily, and love and miss you… So where was I, that’s right, I’m in Rome…

Siene: Carnivale
 What I have found in Rome is something not found in the city its-self, but found with in oneself, well, I guess I just found…myself.

Myself, in its purest form, actually not too pure, but moving to a country completely alone and starting from scratch in an environment that is so diverse than home, causing me to re-evaluate, acknowledge and grow. I have a few secret confessions I must get off my chest. Secret # 1: I go out to wine and cheese dates with my current book. This is something I had never done before Rome, but I actually enjoy it.
There is this place called Beppe, it is a wine and cheese bar in the Jewish Ghetto in the center of Rome. One Saturday afternoon my friend and I stumbled upon it by accident and it was love at first sight. When you walk in to the left is an open deli style cheese counter and there lays over a 100 different-types of homemade cheeses. To the left in the white wash cabinets are homemade jams and organic nuts, there are tan wooden floors and dark oak tables that do not match, yet some how work perfectly. Once you walk through the small archway, you enter the ‘drinking’ area; a snug little room of shelves and shelves of small private label wines. There you can enjoy a bottle of wine and mouth watering cheeses. A fine bottle of wine and plate of cheese later, Beppe had become my favorite posto.

In January, my dearest friend from Naples was coming into town for a visit. She wasn’t arriving until later in the evening, so we made plans to meet around 10pm. Being that the sun was shining, I wanted to get out of the house and walk around. It was around 7:00 and I started to dream of the homemade whole-wheat bread  they bake at Beppe’s, I thought, what the heck, I have a book I can grab a glass of wine and a plate of cheese for dinner while I wait for Rosie.  Well, I guess I had made some sort of impression the last time I was there, for when I walked in I was greeted as royalty. Swiped to a table and poured a glass of wine, my night had started. The owner insisted that I meet his 21 year-old nephew from Torino, he is actually responsible for making all the cheese. How could I say 'no' to an opportunity to chat in Italian with a cheese maker? My book suddenly was brushed aside and new company had joined. Cheese making was a trade he had learned from his grandmother and he insisted that I try only his best work, with the appropriate wine to match, again, how could I say no? He proceeded to mix and match my cheese with organic-naturally made marmalade and honey, and of course the perfect complementing wines, per la dulce: champagne, liquor and home-made chocolate nutella. My mouth has never felt the same since; I literally ate the most delicious cheeses I have ever had in my life. By 10:00 I was grinning from ear to ear, and remained in a state of pure satisfaction for the rest of the night. Only in Rome, La vita in Roma e sempre cosi…
There is nothing like the city that once was the center of the world. A month back, Friday night started quite routinely, pizza, wine, and drinks in Trastevere. 2:00am had come around and it was time to head home, just when a friend called to meet up, so we said 'sure why not', and were off to a tiny whole-in-the-wall bar. It was dressed like a vintage Irish pub slash strobe-light mini disco place. It was small and smoky, yet very cool, almost like Malarkey’s in Huntington Beach. Around 3:30am and my friends we were ready to embark on yet another adventure. We pulled up to a closed Hooka Bar, the steel cold silver gate was locked shut, I remember thinking, what are we doing here, this place is closed. A moment later a young man opened the gate and led us through to our own corner of the room. The place was enormous, the roof was lined with hand-blown glass lanterns and bright colored silk drapes on every corner. We were enjoying this middle-eastern tradition, in our own private bar.
Later on my friends called to me, “Hey Nicole, come here we want to show you something…” I followed my two guy friends down an alley and into what looked like an old storage room. We walked though the main room and down a few small staircases. It was a dime-light, cold under ground cave, scattered carelessly across the room were old wooden milk crates filled with hand blown glass. Surrounded by old little archways and rooms, and then like a frying pan would smack one in the face, the reality of where I was hit me. Could this be the famous underground Rome? My heart started pounding, as I looked up straight before my eyes were an ancient marble Roman column. Yes, I know there are plenty of them around Rome, but to literally be in an ancient Roman house, running from room to room, seeing the tiny door ways and the beautiful archways sent me into a state of shock. I am playing in an ancient Roman house at 4:30am, like a little kid in a tree house. Unreal.

Today starts the last week in March; I have to ask myself, where did the time go? My time is over half way finished, it’s like sweet and sour chicken, I don’t know what to think.  An incomprehensible life with out my boys, how empty, quite and boring; I have grown so attached to the little brats. We try to burp the alphabet, (not at the table), we skateboard, talk about soccer and fight over American football. We rap Enem and sing JLo’s new song together, until I start to dance.  Last Friday we were at a stopped at a busy traffic light, and every Friday I cheer ‘whooohooo’ and dance(a lot); staring back at me was a little audience, the Middle Child and I just looked at each other and started to bust up laughing uncontrollably… I turned a few shades of red that morning.
 It’s a different life then I have lived the past eight years in Southern Cal, yet it’s much more real life. I have been exceptionally blessed this year; I have been given the gift to influence these boys. Yes, time well spent, little do they know, they have captured my heart, and hold it in their hands.

Men, oh My Father in Heaven, these Italian Men…. I don’t even know if I should act surprised, or just laugh…I was driving home from a nice run in the park (trying to shed my kg gift Italy has given me) it was a proper day, the sun was shining and the weather glimmered of spring. I was in my black yoga clothes, hair on my head and glasses on, cruising down the road, behind me a car starts to honk. Omg the nerve of this man to honk at me, I was driving a bit slower than normal taking in as much rays as I could, but now I was pissed, Ughhh pass me whatever!  I wanted to give him a mean nasty glare for his rude jester, yet to my surprise he scrunched his noise and shook his head and with a little smirch, blow me a kiss, ‘ma che bella’..  I just laughed and shook my head, how can I flip-off this man now? He just blew me a kiss… hahahahaaa only in Rome…..