Imitation of / Reflection on "Alain de Botton on why we travel"
Where: the bars around Viterbo -- Chris Bros.; Shaker Cafe; Red Rose; Break Bar; Napoleon Bar; Happiness Cafe
Why: to breathe
My first two weeks in Italy I went to one bar, and it wasn't in Viterbo. It was in San Martino, I think, and I found it easy to go there because I would feel less awkward, and people wouldn't recognize me; if I looked super awkward or ordered the wrong way/thing, or spoke really bad Italian, it would be okay because I wouldn't know anyone and likely wouldn't see these people again. On my bike ride to Lago di Vico, I stopped and got a caffe and piece of crostata. I sat at a table, in the sun, lots of sugar in my espresso (learning that I didn't mean to order caffe but cappuccino), sitting.
When I want a break, just a little break, to do some work, to journal, to read, to be away from work or home, or to remind myself that I do not have too much to do to take a break, I take care of myself: I go to a bar, order a cappuccino or a cup of tea, and sit, or sometimes I even stand at the bar, the way many Italians do. I feel like I am recovering myself and my time, no matter what I do in that time. One Friday I sat and graded essays, then read and outlined an essay for Monday's class. When students flocked in, I stayed put for a little bit (truth is that I knew that this was a haunt of theirs, but it was a couple hours before school let out for the weekend, and I'd been curious why they so liked this spot so much -- I discovered American music there, darkened room, couches, tables, a hideout of sorts; it was good enough, Caffeina, but I won't return there to work. It was too dark for me and too much not Italy). Then I left, done enough with my work for the weekend.
The baristas at the other bars recognize me sometimes and say, "Ciao," and then I'm left to myself, not feeling self-conscious, just comfortable, relaxed, settled. The ten or fifteen minutes give me a little time on certain days -- whether with one of the kids or Daniel or a friend or just all by myself. I stop, breathe, appreciate the break.
Where: the terme
Why: family time with no agenda
We drive (okay, Daniel drives) fifteen minutes, we change in the car, and we scurry out over the dirt parking lot, put our stuff on a bench or on the ground, and slide gently -- it's slippery -- into the hot hot water. That's it. Then we sit. We chat. We hang out. The kids want to play ball and splash and just horse around, and they can't do this if there are other people there. So they have to just be, too. We stay maybe half an hour or an hour, not more. It's a short outing, not overwhelming. I feel like I am doing something healthy for myself in so many ways -- the terme water is healing, I'm taking a break, some of us or all of us are together hanging out. We're not reading or cooking or doing work or researching something or doing finances on the computer. We're just outside. Sitting. Together.
Where: Emme Piu
Why: to balance familiar and unfamiliar
I need ingredients for tiramisu. I don't know what to buy for cheese. I want my favorite iced tea. Connor -- and I -- want our honey loops. Music blares with swears and no lyrics clean, as the kids would say. Hannah tells me we need detergent for the washer and more Vanish to brighten the clothes. Mary wants cocoa powder to make her brownies. I want lettuce and beets and carrots. The kids need snacks for school for Carnevale/Fat Tuesday. I need to pick up my credit card that I left there by mistake.
There's something comforting and challenging about the grocery store. I'm getting more efficient, but not so efficient as I am at Trader Joe's or Hannaford. I need to debate brands and types. I've brought home swine instead of ground beef before; a cheese no one eats; a lettuce that's not sweet enough for Hannah.
Buying candy for Christmas stockings and for Valentine's Day is a new challenge -- no hearts of various chocolates at Emme, only Baci which not all the kids like (I don't get that); no mint and bubble gum flavor Trident for stockings, so Bubba it is instead; salsa Italian style for taco salad night.
Emme is different every time -- an aisle I know, an aisle I don't; a cashier who knows me and insists I get the discount card and the cashier who doesn't; a food I can't find, and a new food to try; a question someone asks me that I understand, and a question I don't.
A little challenge, and a little comfort, too.
Where: Sicily
Why:
ostensible: SYA is going and I have to go;
other: get out of comfort zone, learn some transportation, new roads, new sites; revisit old sites (I think I presented at Taormina when I was in college, and I recall the professor's comment being something like, "Good try connecting this theatre with a Roman play, but alas, it didn't really work.") and share with my own kids visions of Greece.
Yesterday's four hour faculty meeting was reviewing students' individual schedules for the spring trips next week (Sicily or Piemonte). I've made a copy of the template for our family, too. I asked Sebastian to find somewhere he wants to go. He picked Erice, and he tells me that it will probably require its own day, and no, I shouldn't combine it with Trapani, where I want to go to see salt harvested, if that's what one says. Connor wants Mount Etna, though my colleagues all say it's not a good use of time, driving two hours each way to see lava. If the whole family agrees, we'll still do it. Beach. A hike the director suggests. I remember very little from 1993. I imagine it as a new experience. Everything can become so familiar that I can forget to see; even here in Viterbo, there is so much I haven't seen -- churches, museums, monuments.
No comments:
Post a Comment