The weather report was wrong and it was a beautiful sunny day
in Semproniano. I took a walk this
morning way out of town and explored the view from yet another angle. I know by now you must be sick of all the
pictures, but this is almost the last of my entries on this blog so stop
complaining and just look…
After the walk, I thought about doing laundry and cleaning
and packing but where’s the fun in that?
Instead I got cleaned up and spent some time with Cinzia in her club,
having a few last great coffees, sharing some laughs and smiles. Then I spent time with Pina in her
kitchen. Just sitting, watching, and
being in her space. Trying not to think
too much about the next day or two as my (and Pina’s) emotions are close to the
surface. She makes me stay for lunch,
lets me set AND clear the table – but I'm still not allowed to do the
dishes. Aimone excuses himself to go
for his siesta and she asks me if I’d like some coffee. So I
stay. She makes me a cup of café with the cappuccino
machine that Mr. Pellegrini bought her several years ago. She tells me the story about when he bought
it. She has told me this same story
every time she has made me a café, but I don’t care. I always pretend it is the first time I’ve
heard it. Afterwards I go back to Casa
Pellegrini’s kitchen and continue to work on writing letters in Italian to
Pina, Aimone, Maria and Cinzia. I've put
it off because it’s hard to do, emotionally, but I am running out of time so I
have to work on them.
I want to be out among the town and the people. So I gather up my computer and paper and pen
and head out with the intention of finding a table at Bar Sport to plant myself
at for the afternoon. Moreno is in front
of the house with several other men and asks where I am going. I tell him to Bar Sport. He says they are closed today, some kind of
holiday. So I have to go to Cinzia’s
club instead. She is not there, she has
a young guy who works the bar from 1-5 so she can take her siesta. So I go in and plant myself at one of the two
tables and in a few moments, all the men that were standing outside are now in
the club. They move the other table out
into the middle of the floor and surround it with extra chairs and then four of
them play a Bridge like card game while the rest of them watch.
And there I sit, the only chick in the club, at my own table
with my computer and writing in big block letters on my note pad. They all acknowledge me. One bought me a café
and a little later another bought me a medium size beer (6oz or so). But other than that, they don’t talk to
me. They are sitting less than 10 feet
away from me and are talking about me, but not to me. I hear one mention the Internet, another
tells him I can’t connect in here only from the pizza restaurant, one asks
another what I am writing, I hear one mention my departure date, another the
date of my flight and Pennsylvania and then Chicago. I look up at them sometimes and watch them
and when they acknowledge me I smile – and they smile – and then they go back
to their card game. At one point a man
comes into the club that I know from around town, he always teases me and
pinches my cheek or pats my head. He
sees me and by the tone in his voice I know he is saying something about me
being brave to be in there all by myself with the men. He asks me what I am doing; I tell him I am
writing letters in Italian for Pina and Aimone.
He asks how I can do that if I can’t read Italian. I explain I used the Internet to
translate my letters from English to Italian. He
says “Brava! Brava Lean-da!!” and I get
a pat on the head. He then says
something to the men about how smart I am and the good thing I am doing. I got a lot more Brava’s from the group and
then they go back to their card game and talk about me some more… I’m not uncomfortable. As a matter of fact I am completely relaxed
being there with them and not understanding.
And they don’t seem to mind me being there either, so all is well.
I finished three of the letters and decided to head back
across the street to home. I was just in
time for Pina to open the door as she was coming to look for me. She just heard that Bar Sport is closed today
and was wondering where I was. I told
her I had been at Cinzia’s club all day with the men. She say’s “Oh Madonna….” She then tells me that she and Aimone want to
take me to the pizza restaurant for happy hour. I’m not one to miss such a great opportunity
so I freshen up and we go. There were eight
people, including us, at happy hour. It
was rocking! The pizza joint put out a
nice spread of toasted breads with different olive oils and meats, a Capri
salad and one pizza cut into 12 small slices.
That was what the crowd was waiting for and it was quickly gobbled
up. Aimone and Pina both had three or
four slices. Once the pizza was gone the
happy hour came to a close, so we walked back home and had a very light
dinner. After all that pizza, they were
pretty well stuffed…
I didn’t want to go back to Cinzia’s club, I’d spent enough
time there during the day, so I just stayed with Pina in the kitchen and did
what cleaning up I was allowed to do and watched her TV show with her. Then I moseyed on back to my quarters and
worked on Maria’s letter and one for Moreno as well. But his is in English, thank goodness…
9/4 –
I made the right decision to goof off yesterday because
today the rain is back. So I start the
day off figuring out what laundry I am going to do and what clothes I am
throwing away. Seriously – these clothes
are dead! I will use three of the worn
out shirts to wrap the cheese in my luggage and my pair of cut up jeans to
cushion the wine bottles. I will put on
the tan shorts, which have walked a few hundred miles, to clean the house and
then will throw them away. And I will also
throw out the best pair of three-quarter length jeans ever. They too have given their life to the trip as
proven by the two, nope three, patches that they now proudly display.
Cinzia’s club is closed this morning. Pina tells me that in September, all the
business change their hours and most close for one day of the week. I’ve also noticed that there are not as many
people in town – Pina says it is because the vacation month is over. A few
days ago, the headline on one of the daily papers actually was “Vacanza Finito”
(vacation over).
One of her girlfriends walks by the kitchen window and
invites us to Bar Sport for a cafe, so off we go to chat with the chicks before
I tackle all my household and packing chores.
We are the last to join a rousing table of the towns women, all of whom
I have seen and interacted with many times during my stay. They all tell me how sad they are that I am
leaving, and ask when I will return. It
got emotional a few times. Here again
the lack of communication rips me apart but still they make me understand with
the tone of their voices, their touches and their tears. Oy…oy…oy…
Miranda, the Mama at Bar Sport (she and her two sons own it), makes my
cappuccino herself to make sure it just perfect since she knows I won’t get
them this good in America, and then she tells me – no charge. She also makes me take home two slices of a
lemon cake that she just baked. She
kisses and hugs me, thanks me for coming to town and to Bar Sport and asks me
when I am returning. I tell everyone
one year, maybe two, and that I will be back in August. “Sempre Agosto” (always August) I tell them
and then say “per festival, ballare vecchio uomi” (for festival, to dance with
old men). This makes them laugh, but
that is when I would return – because August is THE month and at least there
are things to do in town during festival week…
As we are leaving Bar Sport we run into Moreno, he is
sitting at an outside table talking to woman in English. Pina tells me to stay and talk English with
them, she insists upon it. So I sit for a
bit and listen and contribute to their conversation on Politics among other
things. When it is time to go, I ask
Moreno to come find me later in the afternoon as I’d like to talk to him one
more time before I leave.
After coffee it’s back home to do chores and I work like a
mad women right up until shortly before 1pm – which is lunch time. Pina is having pasta, so I will eat with them
today. She had some day (or two) old bread
slices and I’ve got tomatoes to use up so I am in charge of making the
bruschetta. Both she and Aimone think it
is my best yet. It only took me one
month to finally get it right…
I’m diligent in my chores and am finished, and packed, by
4pm. Just in time for Maria to pop in
for a last visit. She wants to show me a
neighboring town that she walks to but since it is rainy we take my car. Once there, the rain let up a bit so walked
around the town and walked to the highest point so we could see all the hills
and valleys around us. We talk to each
other in our weird American/Italian language and I teach her a few more English
words and she helps me with a few Italian ones.
All too soon we must go, she works all the time. She cleans houses, and does all kinds of odd
jobs around town, and she takes care of the people that she lives with. She is always working, so this time we have had
during the day is rare for her and I know she moved around her schedule to make
it happen. When we get back home, and
before she runs off, I give her the letter I wrote. When she sees that it is in Italian her month
drops open. I told her the Internet
helped – she is amazed. She then asks me
for my cell number, I say why – I can’t talk to you, I don’t understand. She doesn’t care, she says she will just call
me tomorrow and say “ciao, ciao, ciao, ciao, ciao”. So I give it to her. We say our goodbyes and hug and promise to
stay in touch and I promise to come back in August in one year maybe two…
After she leaves it’s too quiet so I take a walk up to Bar Sport
to sit and watch the rain and have a café or
a beer. I see some of the town
men there. One of the older men here has
been particularly nice to me and he asks me to sit as his table. He always says hello to me, he always has a
smile for me and he says a few words he knows that I can understand. One of the guys in the group asks if I am
leaving tomorrow, I say yes. The older
gentleman looks down at his hands in his lap and says quietly “mi dispiace”
(I’m sorry). He then has to go and I
stand, take his hands in mine and kiss his cheeks as tears roll down mine. He wipes away my tears and says “non bella,
non”, and “ritornare” (return) and kisses my cheeks again. I sit
back in the chair and try not to turn into a weeping mess but failed for a few
minutes. Some of the other guys try to comfort me by saying nice things to me, at least I think that is what they were doing from
the tone of their voices and the sadness in their eyes. Moreno comes
by Bar Sport a short time later and sees that I was crying and sits with me for
a bit. When he goes to leave I ask if I
can walk him home and along the way we stop at Case Pellegrini so I can pick up
the letter I have for him. It was a
really nice stroll – he is such a nice man and the gentleness of his voice
soothes my bruised heart. He too will
be leaving Semproniano soon to go back to London to find a job and start a new
adventure. When we part, I give him the
thank you letter and try not to let too many tears fall out of my eyes. I tell him I will be back at Bar Sport later
that night and he says he will come by as well and we’ll talk again.
I go home in time for dinner and Pina has made a steak just
for me while she and Aimone have left over chicken. I insist they both have some of the huge
steak she made for me and I think Aimone was really happy about that… It was delicious. I told them about my day, about the letters
I wrote for Maria, Cinzia and Moreno. I
told them about the man at Bar Sport and things got a little heavy in the
kitchen. I toasted them, thanked them
for the greatest month ever. I told them
I love them and that they are now my Italian Mother and Father. They liked that. We all hung out in the kitchen, leaving our
dirty plates sit on the table for about a half hour before we started cleaning
up. It was then that I noticed that the
TV wasn’t on. Usually they have the news
on during dinner. But not tonight,
tonight for a little while it was just the three of us…
After we clean up the kitchen, Aimone retires to the living
room to watch a soccer game and Pina’s girlfriends come in for a visit. I sit with them awhile until Pina tells me I
need to go to Bar Sport so I can talk English with Moreno. I ask
the girls if they want to come along, they decline. I think they are going to Emilia’s house to
chat since they can’t sit outside tonight as it is rainy and cold.
Pina had to bundle up
before they left, it’s 64 degrees out there…
They walk me to Bar Sport and I buy a drink for myself and
for Ricardo and Silvia, the owners of the Tabacci shop. My last night in town and I finally know
their names. Moreno comes by later in
the evening, buys me a café and then tells me stories of his life. I catch most of it but then I get lost in the rhythm
of his voice, the kindness of his eyes, and in the thought that I won’t see
him tomorrow... That I won’t see most of
the towns people tomorrow and some never again…
We part once again, saying good bye for the 2nd time today with the promise to keep in touch.
*************
I am writing this entry from my tiny hotel room in Rome,
near the train station. I fly home to
America tomorrow. You’ll understand when
I say that I am very sad right now and can’t write anymore for tonight… I will post an entry about my last day
in Italy and some final thoughts in a few days once I am back on American soil
and the jet lag is out of my system. Grazie mio amores.
Ciao…
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