snow!

I’d hoped to post more before I took off for the states, but it’s been a hectic week. I am, however, participating in a study to test the efficacy of a specific type of acupressure in alleviating jet lag. I’ll let you know if it works for me or not! In the meantime, have a fun weekend, y’all, and I’ll catch up with the blogosphere as soon as I can. :)

In keeping with the unintentional Piazza Plebiscito theme of the last couple posts, I thought I’d share a few more photos of it. Up until 1992, this grand cobblestone expanse was nothing more than a parking lot. Now it’s Naples’ largest public square. A couple of days ago, Walter Veltroni, of Italy’s democratic party gave a speech there.

I wonder if that phone call was as important as the above photo makes it look? I feel like I need to write a ‘Bourne Supremacy’ sequel to do it justice. Oh wait, someone has already written, like, five ‘Bourne Supremacy’ sequels. You’ll just have to make due with this picture, then. Check out the hands making a groovy W.V. sign on the side of the bus.

As you can see, it was well-attended. Notice the blue police wagon to the right? Wait … I think I cropped it out of these photos. Oh well, that van is always there, trust me. In an effort to combat Naples’ reputation for crime, the Spanish Quarter is swarming with cops. Not just one type of cop, either. At any given moment, you’ll see Municipale, Carabinieri, Vigili Urbana, Guardia di Finanza and more. (And I do mean more! If you want to know what those different kinds of cops are, I blogged about them in a post entitled Italian Cops: Who Loves a Man in a Uniform?.)

Snufflepuss, as I call my favorite Neapolitan street dog, was nonplussed as usual, as you can see in the photo below. Snuffelpuss is the poster pooch for meditation. Despite her smashed in snout and squinty eyes, she is well-versed in esoteric matters, and in a classic ‘beast meets west’ move, now spends her days quietly mastering her own yoga form. The name is nearly impossible for people to pronounce (and embarrassing to attempt since it sounds like a dog yawn.) This could explain why it’s yet to catch on with the human populace. It basically involves napping in the busiest place you can find. As you can see, Snuffelpuss has no problem finding her center at any given moment, and the normally pushy Neapolitans simply walk around her, no hassle.

I leave for the states next Saturday and have been scrambling around all week. The fun part is that I was able to quit my day-job (for a week, anyway) to work on a paying writing assignment instead. The bad part is that I’m too frazzled to do a genuine Flashback Friday post. I will, instead, leave you with the Prodigy video for ‘Firestarter’ and a link to a post entitled ‘English is my Bitch’ which chronicles the era in which I first heard that song. In case you’re wondering, I’ve lost touch with Serge, but I imagine he’s still a ‘keen instigator’ and always will be.

Here’s another photo of Naples’ largest square, the Piazza Plebiscito where Silvio Berlusconi will be speaking tonight. As you can see from this picture and the one I posted yesterday, the city of Naples is piled high with flaming garbage and even the pigeons are wearing gas masks. (They look kinda cute though, don’t they, those mask-clad pigeons?)

How will citizens be able to see Silvio tonight over all the debris? Oh, wait… That’s right. There aren’t bags of trash all over the city of Naples, despite what the media claims. After all, if it’s in the news, it must be 100% accurate, right? I almost forgot to use my eyes.

In case you’re wondering, I won’t be attending Berlusconi’s rally tonight. Frankly, unless that diminuitive megalomaniac is one of the Final 5 Cylons, I’d rather catch the Season Four Premier of Battlestar Galactica.

Speaking of tech, while the thought of reading a book on a computer monitor has never appealed to me, the Amazon Kindle sounds amazing. It’s a wireless reader that lets you store a bunch of tomes on a device that weighs less than your average paperback. The monitor is alleged to be as easy on the eyes as Johnny Depp.

I tell ya, as a bookworm and chronic diarist who has moved no fewer than 20 times in the past 20 years, I can attest to the heaviness of the printed word, not to mention bookshelves. The thought of being able to bring all my favorite books back to Italy without paying for extra baggage (it weighs a mere 13 ounces) is enough to make me swoon. Sigh …

As you can see from today’s photo, the trash is piled ten feet high here in the city of Naples, Italy. What, you can’t see it? But what about that report you saw on TV where garbage bags lined the streets, people were wearing masks and burning huge mounds of uncollected trash? Yeah, I’ve seen all that, too - on TV and the Internet, like you. But when I am out on my daily walk this is what I see, not piles of trash everywhere!

It’s a serious problem, yes. Those things are actually happening: BUT NOT IN THE CITY CENTER OF NAPLES despite what you have read. As I mentioned in a previous post, the city of Naples is no messier now than it was when I got here nearly a year ago. Yes, there is a garbage crisis, but there is also a lot sloppy journalism going on, which I will rant about comment on in an upcoming post. Stay tuned…

Last Monday I was surprised to see Angelo’s folks lounging around in their pajamas when I got up. I’d forgotten that Easter Monday is still a holiday in most European countries. Angelo’s mom told me, ‘Easter Sunday you stay in with your family, but Easter Monday you go out and have a picnic.’ She then gestured out the window and added, ‘Obviously, not this year.’

No, this year the weather conspired to keep us inside thanks to several days of electrical storms, heavy rain and a little hail thrown in for good measure. (In fact, I hear some thunder now, so I’d better hurry up and post this before we have to unplug the modem again!) Which reminds me, you know how they always say that Eskimos have eleven words for snow? Well, Italians have two words for lightning: when you see the flash, but don’t hear anything with it, it’s lampi; if you see an actual lightning bolt, it’s fulmini.

So no picnics, but did we ever eat! When celebrating Easter with a bunch of non-practicing Catholics in Italy, you may as well add an ‘f’ and call the event ‘Feaster.’ Our only dose of religion last weekend came via Kevin Smith’s movie ‘Dogma,’ dubbed in Italian, of course.

I finally had my first Italian-speaking dream on Easter. In the dream, I wandered through a labyrinthian Target store back in the USA. While inwardly marveling at how many different things were for sale in one place, I kept running into people I knew. Even though they were American, they’d all been studying Italian and wanted to practice with me. I remember thinking, ‘I speak more Italian here than in Italy,’ and getting a kick out of their thick American accents.

I’m sure the dream was prompted in part by the fact that I’m heading back to the states this month. While I’m there I want to buy some books to bring back. I am open to suggestions if any of you have any must-reads to recommend! I’d really like to get See Naples and Die by Penelope Green, but not only is it hard to find, it’s expensive when you finally do. A used copy on Amazon currently goes for more than $50!

And finally, you may be wondering what’s with all the bold text in this post? I did it for a pal who keeps complaining that the only time he’s online is at work, and he has to be sneaky about reading my blog. This way, he can catch the highlights before his boss catches him! What do you think? Is the bold text annoying or helpful?

And lastly, when Angelo and I get married, I want to hire an elephant as our photographer. Just check out these lively photos, snapped by a pachyderm paparazzo. I especially love the monkey close-up, a clear demonstration that ‘don’t talk to the hand’ is a gesture understood by all primates, not just humans.

The Easter Bunny is unheard of here, but Italians don’t skimp on the chocolate, as you can see in this photo.

That’s not a bunny on the left, but a white chocolate replica of an Italian stovetop espresso machine. The lid even opens, although the shopkeeper warned me, ‘Only put cold coffee inside.’ D’oh!

Now for some Easter trivia to enliven your dinner table conversation today:

Norwegian TV stations air crime shows all Easter weekend so that families can spend their evenings solving murder mysteries.

In Finland and Sweden kids dress as witches and go door-to-door, exchanging pussy willows for candy.

In the Czech Republic, men run around spanking women with a special Easter whip called a pomlazka in order to preserve their beauty and fertility. (How does this work? Beats me! har har…) The women may then toss cold water on the guys in retaliation.

And you thought egg-laying bunnies were weird!

I just discovered this fun blog meme called ‘Singular Saturday’ created by Jenn over at her blog about life as an expat in Holland. She explains the idea behind Singular Saturday here.

Basically, you set things up with your title and then post one word to tie it all together (like I did at the top of this entry.) I guess I’m cheating by going on and on like this, but it’s my first try! You can find links to other people’s Singular Saturday posts at Jenn’s site. Once I get the code figured out, I’ll add it to this post.

Meanwhile, if this sounds fun to you, join in! :)

Another rag-tag marching band has been making its way through the narrow streets of Naples lately. They’re not playing Burt Bacharach this time, but according to Angelo, ‘It’s the same melody every Easter.’

Is it just me, or has anyone else noticed that Easter is a bigger deal in the southern United States than up north? When I lived in Virginia, Easter was a big hoop-de-doo. (And don’t go telling me that Virginia ain’t south enough to be south: I once saw a playground fight over the Civil War, no lie!) Once we moved up north, the holiday was all about the Easter bunny.

Guess I’ve got all things southern on my brain today because I transcribed a couple files in which folks had thick southern twangs and said things like, ‘he up and came at me,’ ‘I done hollered at him,’ and, when asked to describe the weather conditions, the word ‘pretty’ was pronounced, ‘purty.’ Plus, we ate polenta for the first time since I’ve been here (it’s a northern Italian dish) and it reminded me of grits - yum!

There’s no Easter bunny here in Naples, Italy, but I have seen a lot of chocolate for sale. Italians don’t eat devilled eggs, so I plan to make some for Angelo and his family. Speaking of eggs, this hen must have one hell of a publicist, because she managed to make news simply for laying green eggs. Um, yeah, some chickens lay green eggs. That’s considered newsworthy? My step-daughter had a flock of hens that laid green eggs years ago. One of her hens ate a purple crayon right around Easter time one year. Now those were some newsworthy eggs!

And lastly, here’s a link to Rev. Jesse Jackson reading ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ on SNL. I’m posting it as my first-ever Flashback Friday contribution. Enjoy!

It’s the ‘Festa di San Giuseppe’ today, and I don’t know much about it, except that it’s basically the Italian version of Father’s Day. This holiday snuck up on me like a zombie, I tell ya, so if you want to know more, check out Michelle’s blog, Bleeding Espresso, where she breaks it on down.

Back to zombies, though, have you ever wondered why they are so cranky? They’re undead, for crying out loud. They don’t have to pay taxes or sleep and yet all they can do is complain. Oh, and eat people.

As for today’s photo, while stepping onto the balcony normally grants one access to eagle-eye views of cleavage and bald spots, long shadows were the flavor du jour. I was actually out there to hang laundry, but the lighting was too lovely to ignore.

I have, however, learned that when hanging sheets, you absolutely must make sure that there are no other items of clothing clinging to them before you toss them over the line. I found this out the hard way, when a pair of my panties fell onto the balcony below us. Oops!

And on a completely different note, have you heard of cell phone novels? Considering that Japan gave us the world’s first novel, and that it was written by a woman, it seems fitting that Japan has now given us the first novel serialized for cell phones, and that it was written by a high school girl.

It’s called ‘Love Sky’ or ‘Sky of Love’ depending on who’s translating it. Apparently, the Japanese language lends itself to this more readily than English, because one character can signify a whole phrase. You can read more about cell phone novels, as well as a translated excerpt from ‘Sky of Love’ at The Millions Blog.

What do you think? Will cell phone novels catch on elsewhere? Should zombies take Prozac? Should I just hit publish and go to bed?

I’ve noticed a certain type of TV commercial shown in Italy that I’ve never seen in the US: ads which depict handsome men cooking for their ladies. Check out this Voiello ad, for instance. Yummy, eh? Guys don’t just cook over here, they also help clean up, as you can see in this ad for a cleaning product called Fairy (such a macho name, to boot!) Considering that a recent study shows that men who help with household chores get more sex, seems like American dudes could grab a clue or two from their Italian counterparts.

Switching gears, remember Wil Wheaton from Star Trek: The Next Generation? Well, a recent post of his blog (in which he gleefully explains to his wife that March 14th, is 3/14 on the calendar, thereby making it ‘n’ day) reminds me of the time a man named Cesar walked into the restaurant where I worked and ordered a Caesar salad at noon on March 15th - the infamous Ides of March, y’know? Even though I found it hilarious, I didn’t say a word to the guy until he demanded to know why I was smirking so much. After telling him, he replied, ‘I see how that’s funny, but instead of laughing, I feel more like the universe just used me to share an inside joke with you.’

It’s Palm Sunday, so here’s a photo of a palm for you. Oddly enough, everyone I saw was carrying olive branches, not palm fronds, today. I started to ask Angelo why, but he shot me his infamous, ‘I’m not that Catholic,’ look, so I just stuck my tongue out at him instead.

In other news, I found two very different political endorsements over at a groovy blog called My Melange. One is Jack Nicholson’s endorsement for Hillary, and the other is a very soulful endorsement for Obama by Will.i.am, featuring a slew of celebrities. Check ‘em out!

That said, what’s got me really excited today is that Angelo’s sister gave him ‘Scarabeo,’ which means ’scarab’ in Italian. It’s basically their version of Scrabble. Yee haw!

The other day I picked up the Italian equivalent of TV Guide and was surprised to find that I can read it quite easily. (Hey now, don’t snicker! So it ain’t quite Dante, and there are lots of pictures to help me out, but you’ve gotta start somewhere, right?)

Anyway, as I flipped through the pages, I saw a photo of Barak Obama next to a depiction of the world’s most famous sea sponge, which is how I got sucked into an article about which TV shows the US presidential hopefuls watch.

Turns out Obama likes to kick back with SpongeBob Squarepants, Hillary is a fan of ‘Grey’s Anatomy,’ and McCain - surprise, surprise - prefers “Prison Break.” (The article even refers to the irony of the former POW’s preference, and quotes him as saying that the show reminds him of his struggles to escape from the ‘Hanoi Hilton.’)

Now if you’ve seen this campaign ad, you might expect Huckabee to be a ‘Walker, Texas Ranger’ fan, but according to Sky magazine, Huckabee (pronounced ‘Uckabee’ by Italian newscasters) is a news fanatic.

Speaking of Chuck Norris, you’ve got to wonder what is going on in that macho man’s noggin. One moment, he’s making silly ads with Huckabee, and the next he is suing a fellow who came out with a book of Norris ‘facts.’ (For example: ‘There is no evolution, only a list of animals Chuck Norris allows to live.’)

You’d think that if anyone could roll with the punches, it would be Chuck. But apparently, Mr. Norris has a sore spot, and it’s not from being pistol-whipped by a redneck outlaw or using a dull razor to keep his beard tidy. (As a further aside, I once saw Mr. Norris strutting his stuff in Antwerp, but I’ll save that tale for another day.)

When it comes to Italian politics, I am still getting my sea-legs. I’m very curious about next month’s elections, and hope that someone will finally address the rubbish problem in the Campania region and not just sweep it all under the carpet - literally.

So while I am far from being savvy about Italian politics, I get a kick out of comparing the political styles of our native lands. For one thing, Read more »