From Australia to Italy

2012-01-07T15:14:00.000+01:00

2011 has finished and now we have to wait and see what 2012 shall bring. A lot happened in 2011, there has never been another year with so much activity. It all began with the birth of bel bambino which sadly coincided with bel marito's father being ill. I found a job, left that job and then found another job. In the summer a horde of Australian's flew over to celebrate our wedding and bel bambino's baptism. I got sick. We made the decision to migrate to Australia, leaving Italy behind for the sake of bel bambino's future. A lot happened in a mere 365 days.

With the festive season behind we are now preparing for our holiday to Australia. My brother is getting married and we are going to celebrate bel bambino's 1st birthday there too.There is still no word on our visa application, but we were told to wait at least 2 months if not a little more before being contacted by a case worker so we are in no rush. We won't migrate until after the Italian summer anyway. After all that happened in 2011 we need an Australian summer holiday.

2011-12-08T20:52:00.000+01:00

I can't wait to leave this country. The new government, trying to clear some of the incredibly high public debt has risen the cost of petrol. Not 1cent not even 2cents but over night they rose unleaded by 9cents and diesel by 13cents!!!! Early last year a litre of diesel was about 1.18euro, now it's 1.67euro. Sorry, but have our wages risen during this time of economic recession. No, the opposite really. The Government wants to make us suffer even more for their mistakes. Wages have not risen since I've lived here but everything else is more expensive and now this!

Signed sealed and delivered

2011-11-27T21:32:00.000+01:00

It's done. Our fate is in the hands of the Australian Embassy in Berlin. Last Monday we sent our very heavy application and now we must play the waiting game. I was told that they should take payment within 10 days and once done we'll get email confirmation. We should be contacted by a case worker in about 2 months time and then we will see... I'll keep you posted on how the application goes.

Other then that nothing new. Bel bambino is sick, or I should say still sick. He has been sick for 3 weeks now, since we spent our long weekend in Rome. He had a cold that got worse and worse so was put on medication. When finally he was better he woke up Friday night out of the blue with coughing spasms and we had to take him to the emergency room. Just in time the doctor said as his cold that had gone had secretly come back in the form of croup spasms and we caught it just in time. Now back on the meds and see if this time he finally gets better! He can't be so sick though if he shoves meatballs into his mouth (and eyes and nose.)

How to migrate

2011-11-12T20:39:00.000+01:00

Many people are shocked when I tell them just how long the application is to migrate to Australia. They assume since I am Australian, and that bel bambino is now Australian that bel marito should be able to walk straight on in. No such thing. For those who have never visited Australia perhaps you didn't know that even a tourist requires a visa. A tourist visa is easy to get via the Internet and free too, but our application cannot be done online and is far, oh so far from free.

We are applying for the Partner Visa (subclass 309/100) which is for married and de facto couples. I am bel marito's sponsor and we are applying off-shore which means that when the visa is accepted (we are hopeful) we must be outside of Australia for it to be granted. If bel marito is granted the 309 visa this is a temporary visa which entitles him to live in Australia for 2 years. During this time anyone on the 309 visa can find work as this visa will allow it but they cannot claim social service benefits. When the 2 years are up each case is looked at again and if the couple is still together then a permanent 100 visa is granted which means the applicant can stay in Australia for ever and work and live as one of us, with access to benefits. Sometimes a couple can be lucky and be granted the 100 visa immediately if they have been together long enough. Maybe since we have been together for 5 years and have a bel bambino we will be lucky.

We are not using an immigration agent since we don't think it's necessary. Perhaps if you come from a high risk country or have a criminal record then it would be advisable...I am no expert, but I think we can do it ourselves. Our application is about 2cm thick at the moment, and hopefully it will be finished this week so we can send it to be assessed. We need to show that we have a '..mutual commitment to a shared life as husband and wife to the exclusion of all others. Show that we have a genuine and continuing relationship. Show that we are living together and that bel marito meets health and character requirements...'

Now how do we prove that our relationship is genuine? Well, the Australian Immigration websites provides a lot of information thankfully which goes a little something like this:

History of relationship (statutory declarations from applicant and sponsor) - how we met, when the relationship developed, when we decided to marry or become de facto, how we support each other financially, physically and emotionally and when this level of commitment began, any periods of separation - when and why etc... and future plans. We have nearly finished these, mine is a whopping 5 pages since I can't seem to condense 5 years into less pages.

Evidence of relationship FINANCAL aspects: evidence of joint ownership real estate, cars etc... joint loans, joint bank accounts, sharing of household bills and expenses. This is our problem area. We have a joint bank account and we both used my British bank account so I've printed off loads of bank statements. That's all we have for this section though...

The nature of the household: we have to provide evidence of our living arrangements, joint ownership or rental of the place we live, joint responsibility of children, correspondence addressed to us both at the same address. We have some from this section. In the statutory declaration we've written how we look after the baby. We have residency certificates which show us as a nuclear family at the same address and we have letters and postcards addressed to us both.

Social context of the relationship: How friends and family view the relationship. Joint invitations, statutory declarations from people saying they know us both as a couple, evidence of joint travel, joint participation in sporting, cultural and social activities. This section is ok, we have heaps of joint travel evidence, photos of us with each others family, stat decs from family and joint invitations.

The nature of our commitment to one another: Knowledge of each others personal circumstances, long term intentions, evidence of how relationship was maintained when we were apart. This section should be ok. We have bel bambino which is pretty good proof that we have long term intentions! Also we have emails from when we were apart.

On top of this we have printed off our facebook pages which shows our relationship status and comments from friends and family who make reference to us both. I've printed my mobile phone plan which shows bel marito and his parent's phone numbers as my deal. We have emails, health care forms, I've printed pages off this blog. To be bel marito's sponsor have to prove that I can support him financially in Australia. A little hard when I have worked a lot cash in hand and now get poor pay, but we have old and new payslips, contracts, bank statements and if this is not good enough for them then my parents will be our support.

Once our case has been opened, criminal checks and medical checks will be requested. So, I hope this answers some of your questions. All I can say is that if you are Australian and have even the smallest thought of migrating one day then please, keep anything and everything you can to prove you are a couple. I used to throw everything away until my twin sister told me not to a few years ago. We had no plans to migrate then, but agreed to keep plane ticket stubs, emails etc... and now how thankful am I!

Rome

2011-11-06T14:25:00.000+01:00

We went to Rome for the long weekend. We had to appear in person to apply for bel bambino's Australian passport and used this as an excuse for a mini holiday. It was lovely to visit Rome again, we stayed at the hotel where we met and visited our friends. It was lovely yes, but reinforced the notion that never in our lives do we want to live in Rome with a baby.

When you've lived in Rome like we have and seen it inside out then you don't see the splendour of the Colosseum, rather you see how dirty and dark it is. The Trevi Fountain, always my favourite place, was full of beggars and foreigners harassing us to buy flowers. We didn't go and visit all the sites this time, there was no need. I was last in Rome for a weekend in 2009 and so much has changed or maybe there is so much I have forgotten. The city is dirty, really dirty and there are foreigners galore. Now I am a foreigner so don't go thinking I am racist but I was surprised by just how many foreigners there were. We heard stories that a lot of jobs are being given to foreigners and not Italians since they will accept low wages and poorer conditions.

We got the tram one evening to visit a friend's wine bar. When the tram came it was so full that we had to walk back 3 stops to the start to try and get on with bel bambino's pram. We finally got on and were crushed like sardines while we tried to protect bel bambino from being squashed. If this experience wasn't bad enough, half way there the tram stops and people start getting out. The driver didn't make an announcement, we had no idea what was going on until we learnt that there was a protest down the way and the lines were blocked. A day doesn't go by when there isn't a protest in Rome, but this was about 6pm at night.

Tram after tram were pulling up and spilling out the commuters. It is not as if they thought to notify people before getting on the tram or that they thought of suspending them all together. Instead they sent one bus, one normal bus which is one third of the size of the tram. We didn't even attempt to board as with a sleeping bel bambino it would have been impossible. Finally another bus came and we asked to board before the mad crazed commuters. Permission granted, a warning given to be careful of the mad rush and then the onslaught began. After people being pushed out onto the street and us shoving people away from bel bambino the bus left. Amidst 2 gypsies fighting, the over powering stench of way too many sweaty people in a small space we made it to our friends and the haven of the wine bar.

We really want to go and live in Australia. We cannot think of raising our son here anymore.

He's Australian!

2011-10-22T23:42:00.001+02:00

It's official. Bel bambino is now Australian! We received a lovely certificate in the post the other day and now we have to get him a passport. We need to apply in person at the Australian Embassy in Rome so we have decided to make a little holiday out of it and go up to Rome for 2 nights next weekend. I must say that when bel bambino heard the news he was very excited!

We haven't yet completed the Australian migration application. The form itself is not so long, but the evidence required is. We need proof of everything, joint finances, proof that the relationship is genuine such as photos, love letters, cards, joint travel, proof of income for me to be bel marito's sponser, we're printing off old emails, bank statements payslips, residency certificates, birth certificates....gosh, the application is about 1cm thick at the moment and growing. Hopefully once we have some of our house documents finalised we can apply.

Australian citizenship via decent

2011-10-13T21:42:00.000+02:00

Bel bambino was born Italian and will soon be able to add the Australian flag to his belt. He is automatically entitled to be an Australian citizen since I am an Australian citizen. I downloaded the application off the internet, filled in the form, sent certified copies of our passports and birth certificates, residential proof and photos and of course paid the fee. It should have been a very easy, straight forward process but thanks to the comune here the paper work too a little longer then normal.

Our first issues with the comune was when I asked them to sign a part of the form and the back of bel bambino's photo. It was very simple, name, address, phone number but the lady would not sign it since she said she could not understand. Fair enough you say, but she speaks a little English and admitted that she understood name, address etc... She wanted me to go to the Australian consulate which happens to be far away in Rome and officially translate the documents. She also wanted to stamp the front of bel bambino's photo which is not allowed.

Part of the citizenship form says the photo must be clear, unmarked and here she was hovering over it with her big, fat comune stamp. I tried calmly and then not so calmly explaining that the forms had to be sent to London and they didn't want a stamp on the front of the photo. In Italy apparently to verify identify one has to stamp the front of the photo and this woman could not comprehend that in another county a stamp was not necessary. She told me that if I sent the form without the stamp then I would be stopped by police when I tried to leave the country. I had no idea what she was on about, I was flabbergasted whilst trying to understand her strange mutterings. Then, to make matters worse her colleague said why didn't we just fly to Australia and do the citizenship there!..........Um, because bel bambino is not Australian yet and if we fly to Australia on his Italian passport 1. we will have to apply for a tourist visa 2. it will cause problems in the future when we process his Australian citizenship 3. it costs thousands and I means thousands to fly there 4. and it takes a day just in the plane so when do I have time or money to do this?

Bel marito dragged me out of the comune just before my screaming fit started. Well at least we got an international, multilingual birth certificate from them, he said.

Or did we.

After finding someone else authorised to sign the documents, we sent the forms off to London. British people being as efficient as they are meant that a few days later, just as the post reached them, an officer from the Australian High Commission called me. Does bel bambino have a different surname from his father asked the lady? No, I said confused. It seems as though the birth certificate is wrong then, said the very kind and understanding lady. What?

I grabbed a copy and low and behold the good old comune had written the wrong names in the wrong boxes. Stupid me for not having checked the document myself, but I assumed a birth certificate would have the correct information. Bel marito too never thought to check. I was so embarressed and so, so angry since I am in a hurry to get this citizenship which takes 1 month to process.

We went back to the comune the next day. Bel marito asked me to stay outside. Me being me meant I couldn't just stand around outside, and when I over heard that the lady was trying to white out the mistake and type over it with a type writer I marched in. We cannot send that to the Australian High Commission! I cried. Why? It will be correct. They probably already think I'm mad sending an incorrect birth certificate and now if I send a white out typed thing they will just laugh and through the application back in my face!!

I was sent back outside again since I can't always control my temper. Finally bel marito walked out with a clearly printed, correct Italian birth extract. No more international birth certificates for us.

So now we are waiting, hoping that the extract arrived, that the citizenship comes so we can go to Rome and get bel bambino his Australian passport in time for us to fly down under in January.

It really, really drives me crazy living in Italy some times.

Italian customer service

2011-10-10T20:45:00.000+02:00

The other day I went to the bank. They open for one hour in the afternoon from 2.30-3.30pm. I arrived at 2.30 on the dot hoping to be quick. I was there to pick up my payment for working as part of the government scheme in the public school. The payment was only 5 months late.

So here I was at 2.31pm and when I approached the desk the man told me that the computers weren't switched on yet and that I'd have to come back in 15 minutes. I decided to wait. Finally, 15 minutes into a 1 hour opening the computers are up and running. Whilst the man is processing my information the phone by his side rings. He picks it up then drops it back down while laughing at me. 'oh! the call dropped out!'

I was shocked although I didn't say anything. Ok, I am sure people hang up the phones all the time in other countries, but the fact that he did it in front of me, like it was some funny joke. If you aren't going to do your job then at least be discreet about it.

Customer service is not a word in the Italian dictionary. I have many, many more stories like this one.

The road to good-bye.

2011-10-04T21:21:00.003+02:00

I moved to Italy in April 2006. It had been my dream, my obsession to live here. I had been living in London for 2 years, went back to Australia to give it a go and lasted 8 months. I went back to London and then finally my dream turned into reality as I made the move to Rome.

Why was I obsessed with Italy? I can't explain why I had to live in this country, I had this internal tug pulling me to the place. Many readers and fellow bloggers I think will understand. Maybe my subconscious knew that bel marito was waiting. I met him 6 months after moving here and we have been together ever since, now married with a beautiful bel bambino.

I experienced the best of Italy. I have travelled the country far and wide, big cities, small hidden villages, through the mountains and the sea and back. I have lived in Rome, wow, Rome the eternal city, to think that I lived there and properly lived there for a long time.

But that's just the problem. When you live in a place, and I mean really live in a place you see and experience it in a different way. Working for the British travel company I was ignorant. We got paid in sterling into my British bank account, our apartments in the centre of these cities, these towns were paid for. At the beginning I was never in need of a doctor or a hospital, I had never set foot into a public school, never worked with an Italian company, never knew that corruption, scandal and out right lies was the way of the Italian world.

Bel marito opened my eyes to a lot of things and when we met he was all in favour of moving to Australia. It was I who had the dream of Italy, I who wanted to live the Italian life, I who wanted to stay. So we stayed, we worked, we travelled, we got married, we had a baby and now I think of what he wanted all those years ago.

Ever since bel bambino came into my life it is hard to be positive here in Italy. I am happy, I really enjoy my new job but that's not enough. Bel marito has been out of work for sometime. His company had not paid him for months and months (which is not uncommon here) and when they finally, slowly started to pay, they closed down. They tried to move him to a different area with pay so poor and a job he hated that we both agreed he shouldn't go. Italians live a fearful life. Many here in the south have poorly paid jobs that they hate, but they are too scared to leave. They know that there is next to no work out there. Employers play on this fear and give low wages, make you work cash in hand, or give you pointless contracts. I don't like this at all. I come from a country where if you want to work you can work, where getting paid on time is not a bonus but the norm. At job interviews here they say 'and we pay on time too.' This should not be a selling point it should be the way!

Here in the south (I don't know about the north as I have only ever lived in the south) finding work depends on who you know. If you don't know anyone important or influential then your chances of finding a good job are scarce. Bel marito knows people but he doesn't want to rely on them to find him a job. What happens if they find him a job he hates? He will be obliged to stay there won't he? Rather he stays at home and looks after the bel bambino. He is the best husband and the best father in the world.

We can't go on like this. Alone, without a bel bambino if you're not sick and have an ok job then life can be great. It was for us before. But with a baby, with the need to go to the doctor and the hospital often,with a view towards the future....well....

When bel marito and I talked about our future we could never envision it. We started renovating the country house but our future plans were grey. You know when you can see your future clearly planned out, or at least what you think your future will be? Maybe you think 1, 2, 10 years ahead and imagine where you will be. We tried doing that, but over and over again bel marito used to say he could not see which way our future would go. We were trying to live the Italian life but the vision just wasn't clear.

After reading this and my last posts I think you know that our vision has cleared, it is no longer grey but a bright white of possibility. Yes, in answer to your questions we are hopefully going to go. Back to Australia. A country which can give bel bambino endless possibilities. And us too.

It is going to be a long and hard road to get there. We need to apply for a partner visa for bel marito to migrate. We need proof of our relationship, finances, life together and a lot of proof which I hope after digging around we have. We haven't applied yet as the application is big, we are still in the hunting and gathering stage. But at least the vision finally is clear.

I thought I would be sad at the prospect of leaving my beloved Italy but I'm not. I want to leave this country with beautiful memories and I fear that if I stay too much longer my memories will not be so sweet.

Working down south

2011-09-30T21:26:00.000+02:00

In my last post I wrote that work is hard to find in the south of Italy. I should have said that work is hard to find for Italians but if you are a mother tongue English teacher, which I am, then you won't be short of work, well at least here in Cosenza. You'll probably be underpaid and have dodgy contracts, your bosses will think you only moved here yesterday and try to fool you into believing their contractual lies....but you'll have work.

I have been lucky since moving to Calabria. I had a job interview the day after moving here (after bel marito and I returned from our holiday in Australia in January 2010.) The next day I began work, and although it was always cash in hand with no chance of a contract I was paid well (for Calabria). There were students, I had enough work, and I had some good money coming in. I went to Scotland with my boss (and bel bambino in my tummy) and taught there at an International school. But this is Calabria this is Italy and when you have no contract and work for a somewhat flimsy school then nothing is certain.

Whilst pregnant the majority of my work was taken away from me and given to another, my boss (who was AUSTRALIAN....can you believe it. She had lived in Italy for a long time though) what was I saying? Oh, yes, my boss went psycho, and I mean psycho so I left and just in the nick of time since I have heard that she has shut up shop, without telling the students, and run off to France.

I was out of work for a few months with the good excuse of having a baby but when bel bambino was all but 3 weeks old I decided to print off some CVs and take them around Cosenza. We drove around Cosenza for a while, bel marito driving whilst I tried to find the schools. We only found 2 in the end, the others were impossibly hard to find and I wasn't actually thinking anything would come of it, but low and behold the next day one of the schools called, I went in for an interview and a few weeks later began working full time and the school.

The pay was ok, I had a contract, nothing permanent but I contract and my colleagues were great. The hours were just too much for me though. I was working a 6 day, 40 hour week, on top of that I was doing a PON at a local school and I was translating a novel....and I had a little, tiny, bel bambino at home. When my contract ended I asked to become part time, and of course was given the lie that work would start in September, after having a forced 2 month unpaid holiday since the school was closing for the summer. So we are now at the end of September, and this forced 2 month unpaid holiday has become 3 so what else would one do but look for new work?

And new work I found, today being my second day. I am now an English teacher at a private asilo nido which is like a day care kindergarten with babies from 1 to 5 years old. I work just the mornings for 4 hours a day, and I get paid more then I was and I just chat to the 3, 4 and 5 year olds in English while they stare at me like I am an alien from another planet.

Still no permanent contact, still underpaid if you think of wages in other countries, but I have to count myself lucky that I have work.

Seeing Italy from a different perspective

2011-09-20T21:03:00.001+02:00

People say having a baby changes you, and in my case they don't mean just as a person, but in the way I view the country in which I live.

Italy, the country I chose to live in because it had been my dream, my obsession. Without children, without thinking too much about the future Italy is the perfect place to live, but with a baby and now thinking always about the future...well it's food for thought. The government is always taking money away from education, the price of petrol is literally rising by the day, they are closing down public hospitals left right and centre, there is no future plan to pull Italy out of this economic crisis, especially down here in the south there is next to no work and if you do have work it's normally cash in hand, and should you be lucky enough to find a contract it will be temporary, without benefits and a rather low wage.

And to top it all off Italy is one of the few counties with NO MINIMUM WAGE:.... In Australia, in Britain, in Afghanistan there is a national minimum wage, in Italy no such thing. Friends have told me horror stories about how little they actually earn, and when I say little I mean that it would be considered slave labour in other countries. food for thought.

Out and about in summer

2011-09-08T22:08:00.000+02:00

It's been and still is one long, hot summer. After spending 2 nights at our beautiful wedding venue we set off for a 'honeymoon' with my twin sister, her husband, 2 babies and of course our own bel bambino. As our wedding gift, my twin shouted us 3 nights in Tropea, a lovely seaside town about an hour south from us here in Malito. It was hot, hot, hot in Tropea but we had a good time and bel bambino swam in the sea for the first time. He was a pro and loved splashing his feet around so this summer has seen us going most days to the beach in the early morning or the late afternoons.

It was sad to see my family all slowly leave Italy, we had been spoilt with so much English speaking company and bel bambino got to meet everyone (except my parents) for the first time (since he met them in January when he was born.) It was chaotic having so many people here all at once, but it was great and we look forward to seeing them all in January 2012 when bel bambino, bel marito and I will fly to the other side of the world, not only as a break from the cold Malito winter (it will be summer in Australia) but also to attend my brother's wedding.

Bel bambino will be a seasoned traveller by then, he already has his Italian passport and been out of the country. We are in the process of gathering documents for his Australian citizenship when once obtained I can apply for his Australian passport.

Bel marito and I have been for an overseas holiday every year since being together, some years I think even more than once. We started off by visiting London in I think October or November 2006, shortly after we got together. then in January 2007 we went to Australia, by December 2007 we were in Portugal, February 2008 saw us in Amsterdam then Fuerteventura in March 2009, at the end of that year we went again to Australia in December 2009 (when bel marito proposed) with bel bambino in my tummy we went to Paris in September 2010...and this year, the first year with bel bambino out of my tummy we couldn't break tradition and not go on holiday, so we went to Valencia in Spain.

Now I am back at work planning possibly another trip, before Australia, to maybe London for New Years...we'll see.

italian mothers

2011-08-06T09:23:00.000+02:00

Italian mothers are famous world wide for raising mammone, mummy's boys (and mummy's girls too.) I come from a country where moving out of home is practically compulsory when you hit your late teens or twenties, people want to be free from their parents, but over here, predominantly in Italian small towns the opposite is true. Children stay at home as long as they possibly can and even when they marry many don't go far, often they move to the apartment above or next door. That's if they get around to marriage. Most Italians have extremely long relationships, 10 years is nothing, 15 yeah getting close to marriage and 20, well normally the bride has been harassing the groom for the past 19 years so about this time he normally gives in and they get married.
Once they get married babies don't come right away. Oh no, we must remember that although the couple has spent decades as girlfriend-boyfriend they have never actually lived together, so although they are not spring chickens anymore they want to enjoy what most of us enjoyed in our younger years....living with your partner, walking around the house in your undies, having a shower with the door open, leaving dirty dishes on the sink. I know one such couple who married after almost 2 decades together and the bride, wanting to give me marriage advice even though I had been living with bel marito for quite some time, told me the best thing about married life was that she could stay in bed as long as she wanted to!

Mammone start in the womb. Once your pregnancy is confirmed many women go into maternity leave and the majority of the time they never re-enter the work force. They hide away inside their houses whilst pregnant, best be safe from that damned wind that could cause who knows what damage. If they do venture out then they must always be escorted, normally by their mothers. When I was 8 months pregnant I drove, alone, about 1 hour north of Malito. Bel marito was working, I had an errand to run so why not go. We didn't tell anyone until I came home as we knew the hospital would be overrun with heart attack cases had the word spread that I had driven so far alone.

As the children grow the get fussed over more and more. Their mothers just don't let go, they can't, chasing after their children is an obsession. Whilst walking the other day we saw a lady driving her car very slowly and in front was her son, about 10 years old or so, riding his bike. I joking told bel marito that she was following him so he didn't fall, so bel marito yelled out something funny and it turns out that she was following him so he didn't fall. She said that if she left him alone he would ride the bike without hands and fall onto the road, so to stop this hypothesis becoming a reality she only let him ride his bike if she followed behind, not on foot or with a bike of her own, but with her car. Crazy! The boy had no helmet on so of course if he fell he would hurt himself. By a helmet, let him fall, and then he'll learn his lesson!

5.10pm

2011-08-03T22:10:00.000+02:00

The church ceremony was at 5.30pm. It was 5.10pm and I was upstairs, alone with just the photographers and bel bambino. The clock was actually 15 minutes fast but I wasn't to know that. I had to get dressed, I had to get married in 20 minutes and there was no one there to help me. Bel marito was in the room next door so I was like a trapped animal, pacing up and down unable to leave the room. The photographers thought I was a lunatic, I was behaving like one, screaming and yelling like a banshee. I was going crazy and opened the door yelling out for someone to come up and help me. My twin was downstairs with her 20 month and 8 month old boys, my sister was down stairs with her 6 year old and 3 month old, my mum and aunt were helping them until my wild screams bought my aunt up to rescue me.

Shortly my twin and my sister followed with our new wrist corsages. The florist had re-done them, they were still a little ugly but better than before. Mine had an entire box of glitter sprayed onto it, so bel bambino and anyone else I touched was too covered in silver glitter. With what I thought was 10 minutes to spare I got dressed. 2 minutes to spare, or so I thought and I stress fully yanked my shoe onto my foot and what would happen, yep, you guessed it, the strap broke. Old pins were found, my shoe was sort of mended as we realised that the clock was fast and we had about 10 minutes to spare.

Here, in small village Italy it is custom for the bride and grooms family to visit them at home before following them to the church. People in small villages, if distance permits, walk to the church. Family come for a little drink before hand, you leave the house and they throw rice on you, and then walk behind you to the church. We, having an nontraditional wedding got ready and left from the same house, so bel marito left first, his family following him and a few minutes later I walked out, had some rice thrown at me by onlookers and my family followed me to the church. Luckily it was a 3 minute walk and I got there almost in one piece. My broken shoe was about to rip my dress as the pins kept getting caught in the fabric. Luckily someone in my family had a band-aid (plaster) and my clever aunt wrapped it around the pins to save my dress.

I was standing outside, not sure what to do wondering who would tell me when to enter the church when I heard the music start. My aunt was still fixing my shoe at this stage and I was a little angry that no one had bothered to check I was ready before starting the music, but what ever...it was time.

Thankfully the stress mostly stops here. Getting married with a baby was never going to be a stress free affair. The wedding ceremony went perfectly, for 1.5 hours! The bilingual priest was lovely, he spoke of love and happiness and even did the baptism in English and Italian, his only fault was that he loved to talk, which he admitted, so much so that the parish priest had to come out and hurry him along.

So that is the end of my wedding saga. You'll only think I am crazy if I tell you anymore!

P.S my corsage only lasted until the end of the baptism. It was so poorly made that when I picked up a sleeping bel bambino the orchids fell to the floor. I had 2 roses left which I shoved into the ribbon so at least I would have something on my wrist since I had no bracelet on me!

P.P.S Bel bambino was so good, he was woke up when the water was poured onto his head and he didn't even cry. He just looked around curiosuly and smiled!
My page boys, my sisters 6 year old and my twins 20 month old.

My twin carried bel bambino.

My brother, sister me and twin.

3 p.m

2011-08-01T21:28:00.000+02:00

I just couldn't relax at the hair dressers, I couldn't stop thinking about those disgusting flowers. I was fuming...I couldn't sit still which was not helping the hair dresser and as I was telling her the story my aunt walked in. She just wanted to escort my gran to have her hair done, but I stopped her from returning saying that she had to tell bel marito to call the florist and tell them that I wanted my corsage made again, I wanted the massacred flowers to go back to her shop and be made into something slightly acceptable. Why should my family waste their time trying to fix the mess when the florist should be doing it.

Once my hair was done (lovely I must say, the hair dressers in Malito are fabulous) I went home and for about 2 minutes bel marito and I tried not to see each other but it is impossible to have a discussion with someone without looking at them, so it was decided that it didn't matter if he saw my hair before the wedding and we soon were face to face. He had called the florist who said she would try and re-do the corsages if someone went to her and explained what I wanted. No one would let me go, it was 3p.m by this stage so bel marito had said he would go! He is just too kind sometimes, always the peace keeper, always wanting to make me happy, and I told him it was ridiculous for him to waste time at the florist, he was the groom after all! In the end my sister-in-law and her mother (the florists friend) went after I had explained to her over the phone what I had always wanted.

1.20pm

2011-07-29T22:30:00.000+02:00

Knock knock.

Who's there?
The florist, that's who!

No, it is no joke. It is the start of a horror story.

Bel marito and I had simple flowers for the wedding. I had never wanted a bouquet so had visited a local, wonderfully talented florist and ordered 3 wrist corsages for my twin - maid of honour, sister - bridesmaid and I, some buttonholes for the men and 3 flowers for my grandmother, mother and mother in law to pin onto their dresses. When bel marito was simply my bel ragazzo he had surprised me one birthday with a stunning bunch of red roses. The florist, as is her style, had sprayed them delicately with glitter, placed sparkly pins in the centre of the roses and made them look amazing - it sounds tacky but they were the most beautiful arrangement I had ever seen.

We had gone in person to order the corsages as I had a photo of what I wanted. I took my twins shawl so we could find flowers to match and I gave a detailed description. The price was reasonable, I had faith in her and was looking forward to getting the flowers.

It was previously agreed that we would collect the flowers at 1.00pm but the florist was a friend of a friend and said they would be delivered. A delivery man walked into the hectic kitchen which looked like the bomb site of a kindergarten...toys, food scraps, nappies and people everywhere. By this stage there were 5 children under 6 years of age in the house, 4 of them being 20 months and under. The man placed the flowers on the table and like a greedy child I ripped off the lid and looked at my flowers. I am not a woman who is able to hide her emotions, nor can I always control my tongue 'sono disgustoso!' they are disgusting!!!! I cried.

I stared in horror at the site before me, picking up this jungle of a corsage that was apparently mine. There was greenery a mile long sticking out in every directions and some boring white orchids stuck in the middle. Under the flowers was enough wire mesh to house hundreds of chickens, actually it looked like some over the top races fascinator, not my simple, elegent wedding corsage. This thing was beyond disgusting. My sister and twin had deep red dresses and their wrist corsages were full of orange roses, outlined naturally in a shade of pink. You couldn't find flowers to clash worse with the dress if you tried.
I had ordered 3 flowers for the 3 women to wear, the same obviously, but there was 1 orchaid womans buttonhole and about 10 rose buttonholes, 2 so massive and heavy with this damned greenery and jipp which I assumed was for the other 2 women unless bel marito wanted to look like a clown. I don't know who the excess botton holes were for, but didn't care. I was beyond crying at this stage. I was angry. The delivery man left discreetly whilst my grandmother and future sister in law tried to calm me down, saying they would take apart the flowers and try to remake them. Everyone agreed they were horrifically ugly especially with this massive wire ball which stood about 3cm tall and was meant to touch our wrist before this carnidge of flowers began. I wish I had taken a photo...but there was no time as I was being pushed out of the door by my sister and twin and taken down the road to the hair dressers, leaving my corsage fate in the hands of my gran and future sister in law.

Wedding Day - 9am

2011-07-21T22:30:00.000+02:00

My wedding day started well enough. I managed to get a sleep in, a mothers sleep in that is which meant I was up at 8am. Bel bambino, the early riser that he often is, woke earlier but the benefit of having 20 odd Australians in Malito with 12 of them being in your actual house was that we left him with my family as we ran back to bed.

Since our wedding, our relationship, had never been traditional, we slept in the same bed the night before the wedding and spent all the time up until getting dressed together; I wasn’t going to be the only tired person at my wedding! The morning started well but by about 9.00am everything went haywire. A lot of it was my fault, but not all of it. We were not only getting married that day, it was also bel bambino’s baptism. The wedding ceremony was going to be done in English and Italian thanks to us finding a bilingual priest. The rites of marriage had to be in Italian but I said my vowels and ring exchange all in English whilst bel marito said his in Italian. I even got the priest to say ‘you may now kiss the bride’ in English which is not so common I think in Italian weddings. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The church was at 5.30pm and we are still in the morning.

Since the rites of marriage was in Italian I wanted the baptism to be in English. We had been to visit the priest a few nights before the wedding to go through the wedding plans, but I was under the impression his church was in Cosenza and it was not, so by the time we found the church in a mountainous town we only had a 2 second chat before we had to rush off. I had remembered badly, as you do when you have 100000000 other things to do, and thought the priest had said he didn’t need me to print the English baptism booklet for him. Bel marito not trusting my memory made me call the priest, on the morning of the wedding since I had tried the day before but there was no answer and I forgot to try again. So my bad memory was confirmed, the priest wanted the baptism in English and I in my emotional state (tears for now and tantrums later) didn’t know what to do. The internet was so slow I don’t know why I bothered using it, the websites impossible to find, and when I finally found some random sermon it was so stupidly random talking a lot about the devil that my twin told me to let it go and have the baptism in Italian.
It has been said that I am stubborn, ok, it is a well know fact that I am so, and I wouldn’t give up but in the end I had to give in. I had to because if I didn’t stop crying my eyes would be puffy before the wedding even began.

Once I had calmed down, waited in line to have a shower since being a bride doesn't always mean you get precedence, and once I was feeling almost my normal self, ready to go to the hair dressers there was a knock on the door.

Back tracking tag

2011-07-21T21:51:00.001+02:00

I was wondering how I would get back to the world of blogging. I've got so much to update that I'm not sure where to start. My family is almost all gone. One aunt remains and after that bel marito (gosh he's had a few name changes in this blog hasn't he. Bel ragazzo then bel fidanzato now bel marito which means beautiful husband.) bel bambino and I will be going home. Where are we, you ask. We are still in Malito, but when my parents, twin sister and nephews arrived a few weeks before the wedding we traded houses with my in-laws. The house was quickly turned into a kindergarten-hotel what with all the babies and craziness, and my in-laws were kind enough to go and live in our small, beautiful, up-a-really-steep-driveway-and-many-many-stairs apartment.

So before back tracking into my lovely but not at all calm wedding, the experience of having Malito invaded by about 20 Australians, holidaying out and about in Calabria etc...I will reply to a tag by Cherrye from My Bella Vita a fellow new mum and Calabrian expat. So let's look at some old posts.

Most beautiful post More of a beautiful memory than a beautiful post, but the night bel marito proposed to me

Most popular post Are Italian men hot or what? This post has had an insane number of hits, but as you can tell by the title it was bound to be popular.

Most controversial It caused a lot more controversy than I had expected, I actually I thought it would be a rather helpful post...The cost of having a baby in Italy was bound to be a touchy subject.

Most helpful I don't really view my blog as helpful. It is a way of keeping up to date with mostly my family back home, and also a way to vent off my anger and frustration, but this post about taxi prices in Rome was well received as helpful.

A post whose success surprised me Red Light Rome According to my stats this is the 3rd most popular post. I think people are looking for more information however and are probably disappointed that I don't have any juicy details about the prostitutes in Rome.

A post which didn't get the attention it deserved I can't think of anything.

Post I am most proud of Our baby boy I guess it's not so much the post which I am proud of, but by the person the post is written about! I can't believe that almost 6 months have passed since the day bel bambino was born.

Just married

2011-07-17T22:47:00.000+02:00

I am almost back to blogging as a newly married woman. Lots of updates, lots of news and stories coming soon...

Promessa

2011-05-16T21:06:00.000+02:00

I'm still here, still alive and well but so, so busy. I work 6 days a week, spend the majority of my free time playing with bel bambino, and the other random free moments are spent planning our wedding which is only 7 weeks away! So much to do still!

We made our promessa on Saturday...I almost didn't make it, what with the Giro D'Italia (the national bike race) taking place without my knowledge and blocking my roads home, forcing me to cry like a lunatic in front of the carabinieri, befriending some locals who half escorted me through the Calabrian mountains until finally, finally I got home, thanks to an old man that is who thankfully was wandering the mountains and was able to tell me I was driving in the wrong direction and had to turn back.

So, with hair still wet and a blood shot eye from having had a way too fast shower I made it to the comune and promised myself to my bel fidanzato. The promessa is done in the church and the town hall (the church only if you then intend to marry in the church.) You have to sign legal documents saying you are both free to marry, and that within 6 months you will marry. I hope we can marry within 6 months, in 7 weeks to be precise...it depends on my mother really. Whilst we had the church promessa Friday night, the priest casually let slip that I needed a freedom of marriage certificate signed by the bishop....What?!!! He forgot to tell me earlier. Yeah, thanks buddy. I knew I had to get copies of my baptism and confirmation certificate and mum had taken care of that, but what on earth is this freedom to marry thing. I don't live in Australia, I haven't lived there for about 9 years and my mum's parish priest doesn't even know me so how am I to get this document... As the Italians say boh!

My first year in Rome

2011-04-28T22:17:00.000+02:00

It was a hot and humid evening in late spring, 2006. It was May I think. I was new to the job, having lived in Italy, in Rome for just over a month. Home was a nondescript apartment paid for by work, in a mediocre suburb called Gianicolense. The area was nothing special, but it was just up the road from one of the most beautiful areas of Rome, Trastevere, the beautiful old Jewish quarter. The apartment was ok, nothing special, but I was living my dream, I was living in Italy so would have settled for much less.

I lived with my English colleague on the second floor of an eighties apartment block. On this particular evening, I returned home late from work. There had been a problem with a customer and since I was new to the job I was slow in resolving the issue. My feet were sore and tired after having traipsed around the Eternal City in high heels, so I decided to take the lift, something which I never do since I lived on the second floor and a bit of exercise is always good.

It was one of those small, claustrophobic, old lifts which fits a maximum of 3 people, 3 small waif like people that is. You have to close the door manually in order for the lift to work. I was a few seconds into my journey when the lift stopped. Not on my floor mind you, not on any floor. It just stopped in between floors. Ok, try not to panic, I thought. I rang my colleague who was at home and she rushed out to see the lift stuck between floors, and she could hear me in it. Go and get help! I yelled out to her. Ok! She called back rushing off to knock on some unknown neighbours doors. People living in massive apartment blocks don't normally know one another, they aren't normally trusting, so it took a while before someone opened the door. It took even longer for them to understand what was going on since my colleague spoke absolutely no Italian, a few words of Spanish at best.

I was starting to get nervous, images of me being stranded in the lift, dying of dehydration were starting to fill my over active mind. Stuck on the wall of the ancient lift was a phone number and thanking god that part of my job included a mobile phone, I called the number. A man answered and in very, very bad, almost non-existent Italian I tried my best to explain the situation. He had no idea what I was saying but was very nice trying to calm me down as I was rather hysterical by this stage. I hung up, having gotten no where with the phone call, and instead rang my twin in Australia to ask if I should save my water in case I was stuck in the lift for a long time, or drink the water and risk having to pee myself should I be stuck in the lift for a long time. Call waiting was beeping, so I had to go, having decided to have a few small sips of water at regular intervals. Beep, beep went my phone. It was the lift maintenance man who was trying to help me by telling me that he couldn't actually help me. I was calling the wrong number I eventually gathered and one of the only words I could understand was fuoco which he kept repeating.

My English colleague by this stage had found an obliging neighbour who understood her 5 words of Spanish and 1000 hand gestures. I yelled out to her that we had to call the fire brigade, I had no idea what the number was, or how to explain my situation. The obliging neighbour made the call, and I tried to calm myself with thoughts of a sexy Italian fireman coming to rescue me (I was single at this stage). It didn't work and by the time I heard the sirens wailing down the road I was a complete wreck, crying like a lunatic and talking to the kind maintenance man who kept calling me back to check my progress, even though we didn't understand a word that the other was saying.

It only took a moment for the fire men to rescue me, since the lift had only been stuck between the two floors. Slowly the door of the lift was wrenched open with some sort of equipment and I burst out, crying and hyperventilating into the arms of a startled, rather old and chubby fireman.

Welcome to Rome!

2011-04-25T21:51:00.000+02:00

Our first Easter with bel bambino was lovely and relaxing. The three of us went for a picnic to our future home, which has been a bit neglected of late. What with the baby, the weather and our wedding being all but 11 weeks away we have not had much time...but after the wedding we hope to begin some serious work. So for now we suffice with an Easter picnic.

You can see that bel bambino was exhausted with all the fresh air. That evening there was a small strawberry party in one of the main squares and thankfully bel bambino likes to sleep with loud music so we were able to relax and eat strawberry cakes whilst our beautiful baby slept. We do get some odd stares when bel bambino is out with us, loud music and all. There are many babies in Malito, must be something to go with the crisis...no one has money to do much else, but with so many babies, you hardly ever see them out and about, some although little, are already used to sleeping in silence so that they can't go out at all.

On the contrary bel bambino is used to everything. He is very good, sometimes too good...we are not sure exactly what we did to have such a good baby. Ever since birth he has been tranquil, and such a happy, smiling baby! In the last week his new routine sees him sleeping from about 8pm until about 5am....without waking up. He then has a bottle, and goes back to sleep until about 7.30am...or even later. It is not unusual for me to leave for work whilst my two boys are fast asleep still. We are very lucky parents as not everyone has such a good 3 month old (as of yesterday 3 months old.)

Hope you all had a Happy Easter!

Can they really be so stupid?

2011-04-20T22:18:00.002+02:00

Living in Italy drives you so crazy sometimes that you just want to bang your head against a wall. The most simple things are so difficult, so often people here - especially in the public system - just lack respect. Italian wages for the private sector are terribly low, those in the public are considerably higher and they also get many perks, so there is no reason for them to be bitter, lazy people but generally that is what public workers are. I am generalising of course so if you are reading this, and work in the Italian public system then don't take offence. Take offence only if you are that man, that lazy, stupid, rude man who works at the train station in Cosenza Centro.

Today I had a split shift at work. Thankfully I did not have to go and teach the wild children from the scuola media, instead I taught 1 lesson in the morning and 1 in the afternoon. No problems, I thought. I'll just get the trenino as usual and have plenty of free time to spend with bel fidanzato and bel bambino. Our village, Malito, is not far from Cosenza. About a 30 minute drive at most. We have a car but I prefer to get the trenino which is a little train that goes through the mountains until reaching the centre of Cosenza. I normally drive to the train station in a neighbouring town, leave the car and relax on the ugly little train for 30 minutes. It is cheap and convenient since my work is only a 5 minute walk away.

Today, I finished work at 10am and was waiting for the 10.35 train. I was just sitting there, reading a book as I was early. Thankfully an old woman decided to strike up conversation because she told me that the 10.35am train had been cancelled due to the school holidays. I was furious! I had been sitting there for a while before this old lady told me this. I was not angry and her, but at the fact that there were a few of us waiting ignorantly for a train and none of the station staff bothered to tell us the train was not coming.

I marched across the tracks and up to the ticket office. I was fuming, and tapped at the little window and asked if the train was cancelled. The stupid, lazy man working there said yes, it was cancelled due to school holidays. What does school holidays have to do with this train? School finishes at 1.30pm so students never get this train. We, the workers get this train! Sorry, but there is no train. Well, where is that written? Where is the notification? Surely you are obliged to advise the public of the change in timetable.

I was really yelling now (I must say I speak very good Italian when I am angry) and there was a gang of people behind me, all edging me on. With support behind me I continued to yell at the man. I don't loose my temper in public often and when I do I say things I shouldn't, but I told this man that he was lazy and that there were many of them working there so why could no one be bothered to hang up a simple sign. I told him I had a little baby at home waiting for me, and now I was going to be late. He was a very bad actor who tried to look as though he cared. An old person behind me told him to call the bus station to see if the buses were cancelled, but oh no, he could not do that as they were busy.

Really, life is simple. If the train timetable is changed due to school holidays then stick up a stupid sign. This man had obviously been explaining the situation to unhappy travellers all day, but had it occurred to him to resolve the situation in a simple, easy way? No.

At least my public display of craziness paid off as on my way back into Cosenza this evening, I noted the letter taped to the ticket booth window with the updated train timetable. But does it really take a screaming Australian to make this happen?

Fear in Italy

2011-04-17T11:22:00.000+02:00

I am learning that Italians are a scared bunch of people. Sometimes I don't know how they manage to leave the house, and let's be honest, in small villages lots of people just don't, but that's another story! I never realised how dangerous the most simple things can be.

In Calabria in particular it is popular to eat fruit after a meal, rather then sweets. A while back, last year I think, after dinner with bel fidanzato's parents the fruit bowl was placed on the table. We all reached in and I pulled out a juicy looking orange. His parents were staring at me, a look of shock and fear flashed across their faces. What was I doing? they asked. Umm, I thought we are like, meant to eat fruit after dinner to help our digestion. (Another thing I have learnt. Who knows about digestion in Australia, not me...) I looked around the table and the fruit of choice was mandarins, not oranges. No, you can't eat an orange after dinner! Ok then. I can't remember exactly why, I think it had something to do with the acid upsetting my digestive system and not allowing me to sleep, or something like that. As always is the case with me I said, don't worry, I am Australian, I have a strong stomach and can eat anything after dinner. I'll be fine! And I was fine, but to avoid the Italians at the dinner table being nervous for the duration of the evening, I avoid eating oranges at night, in public.

Another day when our shower was out of order we went to bel fidanzato's parents for lunch, then a shower. As soon as lunch was over I got up and walked to the bathroom. I'm off to have a shower, I called out. What? bel fidanzato's dad looked at me like I had said I was about to jump off a bridge. So soon after eating? It is dangerous to have a shower when your food starts to digest. I said, well, in Australia I have showers when ever I want, and I've always been fine. After a heated discussion it was decided that I had to hurry and have a shower before my food actually started to digest, or I had to wait until later when it was completely digested. I ran off as fast as I could to the shower, not wanting to cause my in-laws more unnecessary stress of having this foreign daughter-in-law who does strange things. Now, why is a shower after eating so bad? I guess it's like not swimming after you've eaten. Apparently the food won't be digested properly and it can get blocked causing you discomfort and even harm!

One of the biggest Italian fears is not food related, but all about the weather, or more precisely the dreaded wind. 'C'e vento!' There's wind, you hear everyone and anyone cry out as soon as the slightest hint of wind emerges. Even children are scared of the wind and I don't blame them when from an early age the fear of wind has been put into them. One such windy day a few weeks ago we were out walking with bel bambino, we braved the winds and survived, but don't forget I am Australian so have 'permission' to do crazy things like walk in the wind with a newborn. We passed an old man who was carrying wood into his house and his little grandson was watching from the door. Come out and help me, called the grand father, No nonno, I can't. There's wind! I was shocked. This child was about 4 years old and seriously was scared to go out into the wind. Now I am not so crazy that I take bel bambino out into the cold icy wind, but as long as he is rugged up and protected in the pram then a little bit of normal wind does him good!

If you live in Italy then I am sure you know about this fear of wind, and if you travel to Italy, on a windy day pay close attention to conversations as I am sure it'll all be about the wind.

Teaching in Italy

2011-04-09T22:33:00.000+02:00

I seemed to be destined to teach gangs of prepubescents . My new job involves an afternoon travelling out to a school where, as is my lot in life, I get to teach 5 naughty 11-12 year old students. I've only taught them once so far and am not looking forward to my next lesson. The school is not the nicest of places, the usual public school with graffiti ridden chairs and tables, a black board that for some reason the chalk doesn't mark and rubbish on the floor.

The children, 2 girls and 3 boys thought they could fool me. I was covering for a teacher who is soon leaving our school and upon entering the room the children tried to convince me that they never do school work but they just play games. The trick didn't work, and a little work we did, but the strange thing was that while I was trying to explain something 2 of the students, cousins, got up from their desks and started to dance - some Latin American dance. I just stared at them, rather confused by this sudden dancing disturbance. After separating them I tried to get back to teaching, but had to pay attention to another boy who was vandalising the desk right in front of my eyes. At least be discreet if you want to graffiti school property. After confiscating his pen I once again tried to get back to teaching 4 out of the 5 students since the 5th, although he is only 11, likes to spend the lesson looking at his reflection in the window and fixing his hair, adjusting his sunglasses and the like.

The children had listened to about 2 percent of what I had taught, which was a pleasant surprise, so I decided to take a break and play 'Simon says' which they all think is the most enjoyable game in the world. Literally, the love Simon says. Sadly, whilst playing the brain of the class who is also the graffiti artist pushed over the slowest boy who happens to be the vain boy. The vain boy then started to cry, he wouldn't stop until I distracted him by getting him to help me with 'Simon says' which was difficult since he is slow and vain and doesn't know any verbs in English.

To top it off, I also start my PON placement at the public school where I taught last year, and surprise surprise yet again I'll have a class of 23 11-12 year olds twice a week.I am sure there will be many stories to come.

2011-04-05T21:47:00.000+02:00

You may recall that I was knitting bel bambino a jumper.

Well here is the finished product.

Back to work

2011-04-02T19:18:00.003+02:00

Having a baby certainly keeps you busy, but having a baby and working keeps you extra busy. I'm just starting to realise this. When bel bambino was three weeks old, I decided to print off a few CVs and drive around Cosenza to leave them at some schools. I only ended up leaving my CV with two schools and I wasn't actually expecting or planning to start work, let alone a new job so soon but when it comes to me finding work in an area where the unemployment rate is ridiculously high, I seem to have luck always on my side.

The day after leaving my CV I got a call from one of the biggest private schools in Cosenza, and when bel bambino was 5 weeks old I started working again. It is very hard to leave him, especially since he is so small, he is now still only 10 weeks old, but having a family, having a little person dependent on you means that one has to make sacrifices, and it is a big sacrifice for me to go to work, leaving him to be looked after by different people, but in a place where work is hard to come by I would have been a fool to say no.

Bel fidanzato is a big help. I always knew he was special, but I am now just beginning to realise that he is quite a rarity in these parts. When I tell people that he changes nappies, when he's not working and I am he looks after the baby, he gets up in the nights for his share of the feeds, he cooks and cleans and does his share, ok well a little more then his share of everything. When I tell people this they always say, 'ah, well he's a foreigner it's normal,' when I tell them that no, he is actually Italian they get the shock of their lives!

I am back

2011-03-23T20:18:00.001+01:00

I am alive and well, and busy with bel baby but that's not the reason that I haven't written...My lap was on deaths door as a virus took over my computer. But hopefully, now it's fixed and I'll be coming back.

Baby superstitions

2011-02-18T17:21:00.004+01:00

I feel as though I live on a live movie set sometimes. The things people do and say are often so funny, so stereotypical that it's hard to believe it's actually true. Since the birth of bel bambino we have had a steady flow of visitors. Those that don't come to the house to officially visit stop us in the streets when we are out and about going for a walk when the weather permits. (Yes, I know, shock horror that I can take a new born baby outside so soon, and in the middle of winter too!)

When people aren't asking me if I breastfeed, they are pointing their fingers inches away from bel bambino's face as they say "benadica!" which means bless. The pointing of the fingers comes when they utter a compliment or two, since he is after all the most beautiful baby in the world. Now I am not talking about any old finger pointing here. I am talking about this finger pointing:

This finger pointing is le corna which translates as the horn. It is a sign to ward off the malocchio, the evil eye since giving a compliment to a person can cause them harm. If people don't want to point their fingers inches from the babies face, then one passer by said "che brutto!" with a smile on her face as she looked into bel bambino's angelic face. Now, I am assuming she didn't really mean that bel bambino was ugly, but she didn't want to compliment him cause of this evil eye thing....or maybe she was just a rude old person who thought he was nothing special...but no...I am sure it was not that!

Another tradition is that some people have given us gifts of coffee (a bag of coffee beans, or ground coffee in a pack.) I have no idea why, and have asked bel fidanzato and his mother, but neither of them know why people give a gift of coffee. It's a useful gift however as one can only have so many baby clothes.

Living in a small village is rather comical at times!

Do you breastfeed?

2011-02-08T21:39:00.004+01:00

Italians are very open, sometimes so much so that if you are not used to it, you will find them offensive or intrusive. Ever since having the baby people ask me if I am breastfeeding. I am no prude, but I think this is a rather personal, private thing. Furthermore when I say people have been asking me, I mean everyone has literally asked me - men as well as women, people who I don't even know, people I have never even met! Not one visitor has passed who has not asked me this question. People phone day and night to enquire after the baby, and this is a lovely gesture, but when they are people whom I have never, ever met and they ask me this question then it really annoys me.

You can imagine then, that I was getting a little miffed to say the least. My mum and dad flew home this morning, but they also thought it very odd and a little rude that everyone asks me this question. This is my first baby, so I am not sure the way things go in Australia, but I am sure every Tom, Dick and Harry didn't ask my twin if she was breastfeeding.

And for the record, no, I am not breastfeeding. I had just been discharged from the hospital, and after having been inside for 10 days was not feeling the best. We had to buy formula before the chemists all closed for the lunch break. I stopped at a chemist near our village and went inside with my mum. I asked the woman behind the counter, the pharmacist she was, if they had X or Y brand. They had neither she said. I asked her if she had any formula and she said no. I asked when they would be getting formula in, and she said she didn't know, but really I should be breastfeeding.

Excuse me? Did I hear right? Did she honestly just tell me that I should be breastfeeding when I was wanting to buy formula?

I was tired, sore, I had not seen daylight for 10 days, I hadn't washed my hair for even longer, I wanted to go home and I was anxious as I needed formula to feed the baby. So I told this pharmacist fool in a not so polite voice that I had just had a C-section, that
I had no milk so it was physically impossible for me to breastfeed.

Unfortunately I cannot be rude when I reply to bel fidanzato's friends and family. It is only the old people that ask me, friends our age have not asked, but the old people....well there's no holding back with them. They don't listen either. When I tell them that I have no milk, they still like to tell me that really though, breastfeeding is best. Are you deaf - I feel like yelling, but I don't. Why don't you mind your own business? Why are you bothering me? Why don't you go and harass some other tired, new mum with a 15 day old baby. Why don't you go and get a life? I don't yell these things at them, but maybe I should...it would make me feel a lot better!

Our baby boy

2011-02-02T18:39:00.004+01:00

This is our little boy when he was about 30 minutes old. It was a strange experience having a C-section...I went into the operating theatre all alone, I was naked since they don't give you a gown or anything to wear, and felt a little self conscious as I was sitting on the bed/operating table waiting to get my epidural. I have never seen such a massive needle in my life and was scared so asked one of the nurses if I could hold her hand. Thankfully she said yes. The nurses tried to calm me down by making small talk which I appreciated.

I felt a little nauseous the table since my head was tilted down a little lower then my body. A cover was placed on my chest and a small curtain up and over my stomach so I couldn't see them hacking into me. Above me however was a large light which clearly let me see the reflection of my open stomach. I made sure not to look up, but rather looked at the nurse who was holding a tube which softly blew cool air onto my face (to help with the nausea.)

The sensation of having doctors pull a baby out of your stomach is a strange one. You can't feel the pain, but you still have feeling. I felt them tug the baby out, and then I looked over to my right as they said "this is your baby" or something along those lines. If memory serves they were holding him by his feet and he was purple. I can't remember if he was crying. I didn't actually feel anything, no emotion as it was a surreal experience. They don't place the baby onto your chest for skin to skin contact, instead they whisked him off into the other room for his check-up and to clothe him.

A few moments later, a screaming little baby was again briefly brought into the room, again on my right hand side and they bent him over me a little so I could give him a quick peck on the cheek. Then he was gone.

Bel fidanzato was waiting for me outside of the delivery rooms and he later told me how the door opened and a nurse came out pushing a crib with a small baby in it. He only realised it was our baby since they had my empty bag in the crib. It was the bag with his change of clothes etc...and if it hadn't been for that then who knows if they would have told bel fidanzato that this baby was his! Normally they call out the father's name, but for some reason this nurse didn't. The baby then was sent to my room to await my arrival. By this stage there were a few members of the family waiting for us, and they eagerly followed the baby into my room while bel fidanzato waited for me to exit.

By the time I got to my room about 20 minutes had passed and I was - not angry - but a little disappointed I guess you could say, disappointed that everyone had seen the baby, touched the baby, kissed the baby - before I had even had a good look at him! I had no idea what he looked like yet all these other people had.

At least he was fine, in good health, a little on the smaller side but perfect in every way. Now that he's home he's already getting little chubby cheeks and is the most beautiful baby in the world!

Baby Update: Monday

2011-01-29T09:47:00.003+01:00

I had now been in hospital for 6 nights and was getting impatient. I was sent for at 6:30am for a fetal heart/contraction scan, but still there was nothing. Water was still gushing out of me and the mid wives said they were going to induce me yet again.

This time I'd had enough, I was emotional since after 6 nights I had seen countless women come into hospital with big bellies and then after 2 days leave with a little baby in their arms.

So I said no. No more induction. I want a C-section. The mid wives cannot make these decisions so sent me to wait for the gyno to make his rounds. After what felt like a life time he came and tried to get me to be induced but I said no again, and off he sent me to be prepped for the C-section.

So soon? Bel fidanzato was at home. I had no time to prepare. I went, in tears to the delivery rooms to be prepped and surely they thought I was crazy since they didn't understand why I was crying. The real reason was that I had wanted a natural birth, I wanted bel fidanzato to be by my side, there to cut the umbilical cord...but little baby just didn't want to come.

As I was getting prepped the chief surgeon came in to speak with me, and in my emotional state he some how convinced me to be put on an induction drip which made it my 6th attempt at a relatively natural birth. I stupidly said yes, thinking there was a ray of hope. Italy used to have a reputation as one of the countries with the highest rate of C-sections in the world. After a bit of international flack they have (thankfully) changed and realise perhaps that a C-section is not a walk in the park, but a major operation. Now the doctors go out of their way to get you not to have one.

I was still crying as the tubes were put in my arm, and finally bel fidanzato arrived. Men are not allowed in the delivery rooms until labour is under way, but they let him in - I think just to calm me down! Once I was calm he went back outside. I was sitting on the drip for about 2 hours and still no labour, no nothing, so I called in the midwife, told her to turn the machine off, the drip off and take me for a C-section. I had already been prepped for it.

Once more bel fidanzato was called in to kiss me goodbye. In Italy no one can enter the operation theatre. In Australia the husband is allowed to enter, but here I was to be left all on my own. My first operation, and it had to be all in Italian!

The nurses were lovely, I told them I was nervous that I wouldn't understand what they were saying, I told them I had never had an operation before....and I'll save you all the gory details but finally, at 13:30 on Monday 24th January a little, purple, 2.880kg baby was pulled from my stomach and alas, bel fidanzato and I became a family of 3.

Baby Update: Sunday

2011-01-29T09:26:00.003+01:00

I woke up Sunday morning feeling nice and relaxed...hang on a minute - nice and relaxed? What's going on, I thought. Where were my contractions? Alas....they had once again gone. Water was still gushing out of me but after going for a fetal heart/contraction scan we saw that the contractions had 100% gone.

I was a little upset as the day before I was sure Sunday was going to be our day. I was not allowed to be induced again that day since they normally wait 24 hours after waters breaking to see if labour can come naturally.

Well on Sunday it never came back.

Baby Update: Saturday

2011-01-23T21:02:00.003+01:00

It was bliss waking up to an empty room. Ok, not 100% bliss since the blood testing vigilants come and wake me at 6:00am with their syringes, searching for yet another vain but it was bliss not hearing the cry of other peoples babies.

The day started well. I was visited and then sent once more to the delivery rooms for my next dose of stimulation. This was to be our day, or so bel fidanzato and I tried to tell the baby. Bel fidanzato visits me when he can, by that I mean that here they have odd visiting rules. It is common, if not practically expected for a pregnant woman to be accompanied by a female - a mother or sister normally. This female brings with them a beach chair of sorts, something comfy that they can sleep on. They are then by the pregnant persons side from morning to night, with the exception of 2 hours that they are forced to leave during the doctors rounds. This female is meant to help with the new born, cater to the pregnant persons needs, keep her company, help her wash, what ever. I have no female with me, as for the moment especially I don't need any assistance, but honestly I think I am the only person on the ward without a female chaperon!

The visiting hours are technically 13:00-15:00 then 18:30-19:30, but this being Italy means that this is just a guide. It really depends on which nurses are on duty, who you know and if you manage to sneak through the doors. Normally if women are strolling around outside of visiting hours there are no problems. Often if it is a man then he will be asked to leave, or at least not to stay in your room. Being a law abiding citizen, and not wanting to anger the nurses since I practically live at the hospital now, bel fidanzato comes and visits me when he can. Now that they know me since all the other patients are normally in and out in 2 days, they are becoming a little more lenient with my sole male visitor!

So, on this day, Saturday, bel fidanzato and I gave baby a pep talk. convincing him to come. My first dose of stimulation did nothing, so 6 hours later I was back in the delivery rooms for what was now my 5th dose of stimulation. I went back to my room, and was sitting at the little table using the internet (bel fidanzto bought in my lap top since the room was again all mine!) and I was just searching the web at about 9:30pm when I felt this gush from my legs. Had I peed my pants? No, surely not...my waters must be broken!

I scurried to the toilet and sure enough my waters had broken. How did I know? Well if you've never had the pleasure of waters breaking before then let me tell you it is just like a kitchen tap that won't turn off. I was in shock, and buzzed for the nurse, whilst trying to decide how to make it from the bathroom to my wardrobe without wetting the entire floor.

I practically skipped down the corridor to the delivery rooms to tell them my good news. I was hooked up to the monitors, given an internal check, and didn't need to be told that I had constant slightly strong contractions since I could feel them!

That night I went to bed in a little bit of happy pain.

Baby update: Friday

2011-01-23T20:49:00.002+01:00

I woke up a little happy, and a little sad. Happy since both my rooms mates were being discharged so I'd finally have the room to myself. Sad since my contractions had disappeared completely and I was back to the drawing board. Friday was what they called my day of rest (a.k.a no stimulation) but in reality it was the day that I really began getting monitored just a little too much! It's my own fault really, on Tuesday I complained I was ignored, by Friday I was getting harassed.

The doctor once more did his rounds and called me into the visiting rooms for an ultrasound to check babies size, liquid levels etc... Just as I was about to leave the room the chief doctor entered and the normal doctor started to fill him in on my situation. When the word diabetes was mentioned this chief wanted to know why no one had been monitoring my glucose levels. He was quite shocked and ordered at once that the diabetes specialist be sent down to give me a check up. I didn't really think it was necessary, I just wanted to be stimulated again and get the baby on its way out, but no - it was my day of rest so that was out of the question.

From that morning on I have had no peace. The diabetes specialist came for a visit, then I was handed a giant, empty container which I had to pee in for the next 24 hours, I had to give more vials of my blood and urine for testing. I was told that from then on my blood would be taken at 6:00, 12:00 and 18:00 every day, 3 time a day my glucose levels would be tested, my blood pressure was to me measured 2-3 times a day on top of my frequent fetal heart/contraction scans.

I went to bed that night with bruises over my arms from the continuous blood tests, but with peace and quiet now that the room was finally my own. I was woken once, in what I thought was a dream by an over eager nurse coming to take my blood pressure at midnight, but that was just a distant memory as I drifted back into an uninterrupted sleep.

Baby update: Thursday

2011-01-23T20:33:00.004+01:00

On Tuesday I was ignored at the hospital, by Thursday I was not left alone. My stimulation the night before did nothing, and by nothing I mean really absolutely nothing. Thursday morning I woke up nice and early thanks to the cleaners, had my breakfast and then was called into the visiting rooms.

There were 6 of us lined up, waiting for the doctor to call our names and tell us what treatment lay ahead for us. We were all going to be stimulated again, another girl like me had problems and they wanted the baby to be born soon, and the others were all over 40 weeks pregnant.

I was the second on the list - not bad at all since they prioritise us case by case (or not good since they think I have problems more serious then the other 5 people.) I was sent once again to the delivery rooms for another fetal heart/contraction scan and then was induced with a gel. This gel is only effective for 6 hours, so after re-visiting for a scan every 2 hours, I went back after 6 hours to be stimulated for the third time.

The days normally pass quickly at the hospital, that is if you are like me and have scans and the like every 2 hours. That evening I was very excited as finally I felt the first signs that labour was on its way...I had some contractions, very faint and not painful but contractions none the less. That night I went to bed, happily in a little bit of pain that I didn't even bother about the crazy old neo-mother in the other bed.

Baby update: Wednesday

2011-01-23T11:02:00.003+01:00

After a relatively peaceful nights sleep I woke up anxiously waiting for the doctor to make his rounds. At about 9:00am he came into the room and I explained my situation. He sent me off to the delivery rooms to have another fetal heart and contraction scan, then told me to come and find him later for a visit.

An hour or so later I was back with my scans in hand. I asked a nurse if I could see the doctor and she just took my scan and went into his visiting room leaving me outside. A moment later she returned and told me to go to bed and wait for an update.

So I went to bed and waited about 15 minutes, then went back and asked the same nurse how long exactly did I have to wait in bed. She, being not the most communicative of nurses, told me that she didn't know how long I had to wait, but I just had to wait.

So I went to bed and waited, but then I started getting angry and impatient as it was practically midday and still no one was paying me any attention. I am not an attention seeker, but I thought they told me that I had to urgently check in to hospital! I marched back up to the nurses station and thankfully there was another nurse who was shocked that I as still waiting to hear from the doctor. She went into his visiting room, came back one moment later and escorted me to the delivery rooms. From that moment on everything changed. The head of the maternity ward came in to see me and said that they were arranging for me to transfer beds straight away, a gynecologist pulled me into his office and told me they wanted to stimulate/induce me in a few minutes. My file was finally looked at and at last I was getting the treatment I had been expecting. The maternity ward of the Cosenza public hospital has a good reputation, and now I was beginning to see why.

I was moved into a triple room with pink walls, a lilac bathroom door, a mint green bathroom and mint green baby room. The world's oldest and surely most annoying mother was one of my room mates, and I had run-ins with her and her crazy family, but she is gone now so I will not waste my time talking about her...it makes me angry just thinking of her! (Basically she had a fever, or so she claimed and would not let me open the window. They blast the heating in the hospital and I was sweating to death, in the end the 2nd room mate went and got a nurse who had to force her to open the window.)

Once settled into my room, I was whisked off to the delivery suits yet again and stimulated for what would be the first of many times. I had to wait 12 hours to see if anything happened, and having a cheeky little baby in my tummy meant that of course nothing happened!

I spent a hot and sweaty night sleeping in my pastel coloured room, since the old neo-mother had her anciently old mother spending the night with her, and she kept shutting the windows, and I had no energy left to fight.

Baby update: Tuesday

2011-01-23T10:21:00.004+01:00

On Tuesday morning bel fidanzato drove me to pronto soccorso. We entered the hospital via the emergency room since that is how you do it here in public Italian hospitals. We had some check-ups Monday night and the gynecologist scarred us half to death as he told me that I should be admitted to the hospital straight away. Apparently the baby is not growing as much as he should be, and seeing that I was (on Monday) 38 weeks and 1 day they wanted me to deliver as soon as possible (also due to my having gestational diabetes.)

We weren't prepared to check in there and then, so went home, gathered the last of my things and spent a tense night wondering what lay ahead.

On Tuesday I was checked in and sent up to the maternity ward. It was a nightmare upstairs! The hallway was crawling with patients, visitors, anyone and everyone. I sat down with the same gynecologist from the night before, and a nurse and gave them all of the necessary information, had some vials of blood drawn, was sent away for a fetal heart and contraction scan and then headed off to the lovely maternity ward to find a bed.

But the maternity ward was full, actually it was over full. I was taken to the gynecology department which is next to the maternity ward and that was full too. A lot of the gynecology wards have closed in the surrounding hospitals, so everyone is being sent to Cosenza. And there is not enough room for them all in Cosenza. A make shift bed was erected in a room, without a pillow, blanket or sheets and I was told to just stay there. There was a poor girl in labour in one of the beds, and another apparently pregnant woman in the other bed. It was technically only a 2 bed room.

It was hot and humid, the apparently pregnant girl kept going into the bathroom and smoking. I was upset, worried and all alone since bel fidanzato was not allowed to remain out side of visiting hours. I was also confused about who was a doctor, who was a nurse, a cleaner....there is a rainbow of uniforms here, literally every colour you can imagine. I asked an assortment of people if there was a 'real' bed free for me, and if it was possible to have a visit with a doctor since I had been told to urgently check in the night before.

After harassing nearly everyone on the gynecology ward, I found a nice girl who I think was only a cleaner but she said that my name was not even on their list of patients, and it was lucky I had asked her if there was a free bed - as there was - but without my name on the list I would have been forgotten!

I was moved into a pleasant room, with an older woman who had recently had some sort of operation. She didn't smoke in the bathroom and she kept mostly to herself so I was happy. The friendly cleaner became my source of information since no one else would respond to my questions, and she told me that a visit was not possible until the doctors did their rounds the next morning. I was obviously nervous and angry since I'd been forced to check in via the emergency room, and now no one was even paying me any attention.

There was nothing I could do but wait until the next morning...

Baby Update

2011-01-10T22:42:00.004+01:00

I'm still here, and baby isn't with me just yet. He will be very soon though, so I've been busy finishing up work projects, having ultrasounds, visits, trying to sort out changing my British drivers licence for an Italian one, blood tests - you get the gist.

Baby is technically due the 30th of January, but since I am classified as 'high risk' due to my diabetes, the doctor wants me to give birth early. If the diabetes doctor had her way, I would have given birth last week...but she was just paranoid as everyone is when you mention some sort of medical condition out of the norm. I have to start going to the hospital to have babies heart monitored twice a week, and then have a chat with my gynecologist on Thursday to see what she says. According to her baby may come of his own accord early since the neck of my uterus is soft and his head down, waiting to go, so we'll just have to wait and see. If he doesn't come of his own accord, then she is not happy for me to wait until 40 weeks so we will have a bit of negotiating to do!

My parents are flying into Calabria on the 25th of January, what we thought was plenty of time before baby came, but now I'm not sure if they'll either be greeted by baby at the airport, greeted by a relative then taken to hospital to find baby and I, or greeted by a pregnant me with baby safely tucked away in my tummy. Only time will tell.

Goodbye 2010, Hello 2011

2011-01-03T18:01:00.003+01:00

Wow, 2010 came and went so fast. For bel fidanzato and I it was a year of change. We began the year on holiday in Australia, anxious and curious about how the year would pan out. At the end of 2009 we had decided to turn our lives around. As hard as it was, we decided to say goodbye to our jet setting life of living in different, fantastic locations, moving around every season. We decided to "settle down," to relocate to Calabria, to bel fidanzato's home of Malito. We decided to plan our wedding, and try to have a bel bambino.

At the start of 2010 we said we would give our life in Calabria one year. We were realistic, we knew that trying to form a life here would be a slow journey, but we had time - and often it seemed luck on our side so thought we'd give it a go.

2010 didn't start slow for me. As luck would have it, I got a job interview the day after I returned to Italy, and a day after that I started working. A month of so later, I had my first experience in working in an Italian public middle school, and in the summer I had the opportunity to teach English in Scotland. A few months into the new year. we decided to try to have a baby, and that didn't prove to be difficult either! Soon after bel fidanzato found a job and we decided to spend most of our savings on buying a car and putting a new roof onto our future country home. Our wedding venue soon after was booked and wedding preparations were underway. Soon, most of my time started to be taken up with blood tests, hospital visits and the like. We managed to fit in small holidays to see friends in Sorrento and Taormina, to visit my aunt in Paris and go out and about in Calabria. I learnt how to knit, make recycled paper, and other crafty bits and bobs. My Italian didn't really get any better, but it didn't get any worse either. Our beautiful apartment started to fill with change tables, a cot and baby decorations.

And so without realising it, 2010 ended in a subdued manner, with me being 36 weeks pregnant and too tired to stay awake much past midnight. (Not only was it new years, but our 4 year anniversary.) We counted down a little out of whack, since the live coverage on RAI had the seconds counting down from 10 on the television which didn't correspond with the presenters count down (hey that's Italy!) we said farewell to 2010, to our baby-free life, wondering how the next year would be.

So, now we say hello to 2011. Soon - in a matter of weeks our bel bambino will be here, my parents too who are flying over to meet him. This year we will be married and my whole family will be flying over from Australia....so much going on, I can't wait!

Christmas time in Malito

2010-12-30T20:43:00.011+01:00

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas! I spoke to my family who were enjoying an outdoors lunch in my parents backyard, sipping chilled wine in the 28 degree weather. My family celebrate Christmas on Christmas Day, whereas here in Italy most people have their main celebration on Christmas Eve.

It still feels a little strange for me celebrating on the 24th. In Australia, I used to wake up on the 25th and Christmas had started. When we were little, the first thing we did was run to the Christmas tree and tear open the presents that santa had left. I never wondered why mum and dad never bought us anything - it was always just santa! As we got older, and mum and dad, rather then santa gave us gifts, we would wait a little longer until opening presents. Normally we woke up, ate breakfast, a little later opened presents and then had a long, leisurely lunch.

Here it feels strange that I wake up on the 24th then spend the day preparing for the evening meal. By the time the evening actually comes I am tired. If you've celebrated Christmas on the 24th for your entire life, then I am sure the 25th would be strange, but for me it will take a few more years to get used to. When I was in Australia last Christmas, I made sure to buy a few Christmas cds so at least we had some English festive tunes whilst preparing for the Christmas dinner.

This year we celebrated with a dinner at my in-laws. As you can imagine, we had a feast, course after course after course. We set the table in the dining room. lit the fire and ate the night away. It was surreal for bel fidanzato and I that this would be our last Christmas 'alone.' It's still a bit hard to believe that next Christmas we'll have a little baby crawling/walking around trying to pull the decorations off the Christmas tree!

Whilst I passed my day cooking - ok, I did just a little bit of cooking and a lot more resting, (I'm 8 months pregnant don't forget so may as well take advantage of this special treatment!) bel fidanzato spent the sunny, warmish morning preparing for the annual bonfire. Here in Malito they have a big bonfire in one of the piazza's on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately after bel fidanzato and his friends spent the day preparing the food and wine and piling up the wood, the weather turned nasty.

The skies opened and it started to rain, really rain. It ended up raining for the 25th and 26th too. Not only was there rain, but fierce winds, so the bonfire obviously could not be lit.

It was a shame, but alas one cannot argue with mother nature. Rather, while most people headed off to midnight mass, bel fidanzato, his American cousin who was visiting, and I went home and pretty much went to bed!

On the 25th we returned to my in-laws to open our presents and eat the left overs for lunch. It rained the whole day, but by early evening we were getting a little fed up, so decided to brave the rain, and take the American cousin to Panettieri to see the navity.

It was lightly spitting as we drove up the mountainous roads, and we laughed as the car thermometer told us that the outside temperature was literally dropping by the second as we went higher, and higher up into the mountains. We stopped laughing when the light rain turned into snow and the mountainous roads started to turn white. We decided to turn around and head back down the mountain. Probably had I not been 8 months pregnant we would have continued regardless of the weather, but the roads up in that area are isolated and dangerous, so we didn't want to risk getting stuck in the middle of no where! We ended up going to a town closer to Malito that also has a nativity but it was not as professional, or beautiful as Panettieri.

Finally, by Monday the 27th the rain stopped and the bonfire could finally be lit. It was a god send as once the rain stopped, the temperatures dropped so it was lovely to stand around the enormous outdoor fire.

Umm..spring time is back

2010-12-20T20:25:00.003+01:00

Why could my birthday not have been today? It was 20 degrees and I even enjoyed my breakfast sitting outside on the balcony! The weather here really has got to make up its mind, but I hope, really, really hope that the cold, nasty wintry weather doesn't come back. I am not used to winter. This is my first full winter in...I can't remember how many years.

For half of last winter bel fidanzato and I were in Australia enjoying half a summer. The winter before I was also in Australia for half a summer, and then I went to visit bel fidanzato in the warm Canary Islands. The winter before saw me working in Portugal which was not cold at all. The year before that bel fidanzato and I exchanged winter for yet another Australian summer. The year before that I think was a full winter, and a British winter at that. Well, almost a full winter. I hadn't moved to Italy yet, was living in London and did fly back to Australia for my twin sisters wedding before moving to live in Italy, but I would say that I experienced a full winter. That was the European winter of 2005/2006. So yes, it has been a long time since I've had an entire winter and I am not at all used to it...it's going to take me some time to get used to these cold European winters. All I can say is thank god I live in Calabria, in the south of Italy where at least we have random 20 degree days thrown into the equation.

A real life nativity

2010-12-19T16:56:00.009+01:00

The nativity is a popular Christmas tradition in Italy. Sure, in Australia we put a little manger under our Christmas tree, with Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus etc... but here in Italy it is a whole different matter. At Christmas time people make elaborate nativities in their homes, and sometimes whole villages get turned into a giant nativity scene.

Bel fidanzato has created a beautiful nativity in our apartment, using - as most people do - bits and bobs that you find around. The ground is covered with dirt and moss collected outside, the 'mountains' are these wooden/bark things that are decoration in our home and the scattered snow is good old flour. The trees are branches, and the grotto in the corner are rocks from our future home. The little houses are 'borrowed' from the in-laws since this is our first Christmas here, and we haven't had time to make our own houses! Mary and Joseph are yet to make an appearance as they are out and about with the donkey of course searching for a place to have the baby Jesus (and we haven't got them yet!)

This is my second Christmas in Malito. Last year bel fidanzato and I were nice and warm in Australia, and two years ago I celebrated my first Christmas here. Bel fidanzato took me to Panettieri , a small, mountainous town on a cold, pre-Christmas night to see life size presepe - nativity. The town itself is small, and not too far from Malito kilometres wise, but to reach it we had to drive for what felt like forever up steep, curvy, dark mountainous roads.

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I was amazed that this tiny village, literally in the middle of no where was host to this Christmas tradition. They had turned the entire old town into a life size nativity scene. It was beautiful. We paid a small entrance fee and then we left to follow the one way system around town. The streets were lined with hay, candles and open flames lit the way and the normal street lights were all covered with hessian sacks creating an authentic atmosphere. Town folk were dressed in costume and wandered the streets, each acting their part.

Many 'houses' were open for us to walk inside. The majority of these houses were magazzini which are storage rooms. Most Italians have a magazzino which they use to store wood, the years supply of bottled tomatoes, wine, oil etc... These storage rooms are often very large and can be attached to your own home, or close by. These rooms were turned into shops for the evening, such as a shoe maker, cheese maker, baker etc... with the villagers demonstrating how these shops functioned back in biblical times. They didn't give demonstrations as such - if you wanted to talk to them and ask questions then you could, but the village was an open-air play with all of the 'actors' going about the daily routine of years, and years ago.

They even had gorgeous ponies that you could pat - well I was patting them anyway.

And at the end, the nativity town was complete with the manger, Maria (Mary), Giuseppe (Joseph), an empty cradle for Jesus, little angels and even the donkey.

A frozen birthday

2010-12-17T18:48:00.010+01:00

Yesterday my twin and I turned 32. Whilst she was enjoying a glass a champagne in the 24 degree, Australian summer weather, I was freezing - literally - in the sub-zero temperatures of snow covered Malito.

I have never been so cold in my entire life, I couldn't get warm all day. It didn't help that we were without water - and still are. Bel fidanzato and I are the only people in the entire village without water. When we moved into our apartment, the comune had to give us an independent water supply by attaching some tubes to the internal water system and link it up to our house. We live quite high up in the village, by a church. To reach our apartment you have to walk up a rather steep incline. See that church in the centre of the photo? Well - we live right up there.

The tubes that bring water to our apartment are above the ground and therefore frozen. The tubes should be 40cm under ground so that they don't freeze, but they aren't and the comune has no money to pay for the work which will be quite a big job, given the location of our place, and the length of the tubes which loop all the way from ground level, up around the back of the church. So now, we just have to wait for the sun to shine, for the water to flow once more and in the mean time we will continue to live like those many years ago - collecting buckets full of snow to use as the toilet flush, and going to the fountains to fill our bottles of water (and going to the in-laws if we want to have a shower!)

It's nice sitting by the open fire whilst your partner cooks you a romantic dinner, but I must say that I prefer a summer birthday!

12 days of Christmas - Malito style

2010-12-14T21:08:00.004+01:00

Last Tuesday it was 24 degrees...today it is snowing in Malito. There was even a little snow in Cosenza which is most odd.

Christmas time is full of superstition and tradition, especially here in the south of Italy. I used to think that 'the 12 days of Christmas' was just a song, but bel fidanzato told me that people here say the 12 days of Christmas are a forecast of the weather for the following year. The 13th of December (yesterday) is representative of January, today - February, tomorrow March and so forth. Today snow came to Calabria and driving home at 4.30pm it was already -1 degree, so according to superstition February will be a cold month with a little bit of snow. Apparently last year the 24th of December was quite warm and sunny here in Calabria and that goes to prove this superstition true, since last week we had 4 days or so of unusual, warm, sunny weather.

I am not sure if this weather prediction tradition comes from Malito, Calabria or other parts of Italy. I couldn't find any information on the internet about this, and I have never heard of it before so perhaps it is just a tradition of these parts? If you have heard of this before then please let me know. Here's to hoping that tomorrow or should I say March, brings us better weather.

Le Castella

2010-12-11T10:51:00.004+01:00

Springtime had returned to Calabria. Whilst the north of Italy was under snow, ice and rain, we spent the past few days outside, enjoying the sun and temperatures of 20 degrees. We opened all of the windows to let the warm air flow in, since our apartment was so cold on the inside, but so warm on the outside. We ate lunch outside on the balcony, with no jackets in site. A day was spent working outside at our future home, marvelling at the fact that there were flowers blooming all around us. A lot of the trees still have not lost their leaves, and the countryside is remarkably green...very, very odd for this time of the year.

Taking full advantage of this strange but most welcome weather, we decided to set out for a day trip on the 8th of December which is a public holiday here in Italy. Destination Le Castella in the province of Crotone. The castle is about a 2 hour drive from us here in Malito.

The 16th century Aragonese castle was apparently built on the site of an ancient Greek fort. The history is not very clear, but according to Greek mythology the place was built for the Greek Goddess Calypso and her son so they could be near their great love - Ulysses who was a man of the sea. Whatever the history, I had seen photos of Le Castella and wanted to visit, so we set out for our day trip.

When we arrived the sun was shining, but the castle was closed.

Work is being done to restore the castle, but even if you can't/don't want to go inside, you can see a lot by walking around the bottom.

It is a magnificent place, and at this time of year there were only a few tourists strolling around. We were able to find a secluded rock and eat our lunch with undisturbed views of the castle and the sea.

If you are in Calabria then this place is well worth a visit.

House update

2010-12-02T18:19:00.004+01:00

We weren't intending to start work on the newer half of the house, we were just there the other day looking around and trying to decide what rooms will be where. Bel fidanzato and I often go to our future home and just think...there are so many possibilities that we can't decide. Whilst we were in our possible future bedroom, bel fidanzato picked away some plaster from the walls with his bare hand. Parts of the walls are very humid so the plaster just falls away. Well, you can imagine the surprise we got when the plaster fell to the ground to expose a beautiful, stone wall.

The stones are in (we think) almost perfect condition, and we hope to keep the wall stripped back like this as a feature wall. Once he saw the wall, there was no stopping bel fidanzato from whipping out his pick and quickly getting to work.

We were hoping that the room below, and the room next to this would have the same walls but it doesn't seem to be the case. Yes, they, like all the walls are all made of stones, rocks and bricks, but not in prime condition like this beauty!

Knitted ball for baby

2010-12-01T19:53:00.005+01:00

I made baby a knitted ball. I had lots of left over bits of wool, and was wondering what to do with them. With time on my hands I searched the internet until I came across a simple pattern. Like all of my knitting, it's a bit wonky as the shape of the patches didn't turn out all the same, the main fault being that the size of my wool was not all the same. None the less I am happy enough with the outcome. I stuffed the ball with some pillow stuffing that I found in an old pillow that is too uncomfortable to sleep on and bel fidanzato kicked the ball around to make sure that it wasn't over, or under stuffed.

There was another knitted ball pattern that I found, so now that this project is over, I may consider making another one...however with so many other patterns out there then maybe I should try making baby something different.

House update

2010-11-28T17:46:00.007+01:00

We have decided to stop working on the older half of the house, where up until now even I - very slowly - had been chipping away at the walls. We haven't finished, but thanks to bel fidanzato the majority of plaster has been removed to reveal the original stone walls.

We probably won't be able to keep the walls as they are, they'll need to be re-enforced, but we should be able to keep parts as a feature. Bel fidanzato has also managed to rip away some of the wooden ceiling panels so we could get a good look up at the third floor. There are no stairs to access the third floor but bel fidanzato can get himself up there via the ladder and likes to walk around up there, thinking....making plans. The third floor has never really been used. If you recall, our house is actually two houses joined as one. There is a solid wall also on the third floor diving the two houses. I can't go up and walk around so have to be content at the moment with just gazing up.

Our house is very big so we have decided to stop working on the parts of the older house that we won't be using in the immediate future. Instead, we will start working on the rooms that we want to live in.

Hand made wedding invitations

2010-11-26T19:40:00.016+01:00

I was searching around for specific paper to use for the inside of our wedding invitation booklets. I wanted something that would go with my handmade books, but I couldn't seem to find anything in the shops or on the internet. Bel fidanzato's brother said why didn't I make my own. He had seen a television program where they used normal white printer paper and 'painted' it with coffee to give it an old, antique effect. That got me thinking, why didn't I just make them myself?

When we were little, I remember the delight my twin and I used to take in decorating school projects. If we wanted to make an old looking document we used to do just that, cover the paper with coffee and then maybe burn the edges a little bit. Simple, yet effective. My only concern was that the paper would look like a children's school project, but with time on my side, I decided to give it a try. If successful, it would be a money saving option.

Up to this minute I have not actually spent one single cent on making the invitations. The booklets are hand-made recycled paper, which I just used odd bits of scraps, the decorations are mostly wild flowers that I picked in the spring time, and even the glue was an old tub that I found lying around. I stole the white printer paper from my in-laws who had a stash of it, but of course no computer, or printer in the house! I was going to buy ink for the printer, but my sister-in-law works in a computer shop, and her boss gave her some left over ink cartridges for free. I never set out to make money less invitations, but hey...all the better for me if in the end I haven't spent anything!

Every time we made coffee, I would poor the left overs into a container.

I then found an old cloth to use as a paint brush.

Next I got an old, large cloth to not dirty the place, placed the white paper on top and dabbed the coffee onto the paper. If it dripped, or was uneven in parts then all the better. I used more then one coat to make the colour darker.

I was worried that the coffee smell would never go, but I left the paper outside when the weather was accommodating, and sure enough, there is no more odour of coffee.

Next I had to print the invitations which was easy seeing that the paper was already printer paper. I then cut the pages and glued them into my booklets. The English invitations are almost done, then I'll move on to the Italian ones. I still have a lot of paper to paint with coffee, especially now that I have decided to make the envelopes too! I was thinking of buying them, but again had the problem of finding something to match the booklets. It was bel fidanzato's mother this time who told me to make them myself. And yes, I thought, why not!

Is it a boy or girl?

2010-11-23T22:33:00.003+01:00

It can be difficult having a baby in a foreign country, especially in a country where the language is still not fluent for you. I may have been living in Italy now for a little more then four years, but I am still no where near fluent. Yes, I can get by, I am understood by most people but I am not fluent.

A few weeks ago I went for an ultrasound to check babies growth. Bel fidanzato had to work so I went with his mother and our sister in laws mother. We went to a different hospital from the usual, but it seems to be the case that in hospitals the doctors don't want you to actually see the ultrasound screen...The screen was positioned facing as far away from me as possible, so I was trying to push myself up to I could get a better look. The doctor kept telling me to lie back down and that he would tell me what was going on. He didn't of course, and I gave up trying to look since it became evident that I wasn't going to get a glimpse and even if I could then I would not have seen anything. Baby was moving around in what I assumed was an agitated state as the ultrasound wand was bothering him. The doctor then stopped pushing and lightly brushed my stomach to get the measurements he needed and nothing more.

Now, whilst he was ignoring me, he was calling out measurements to the assistant who was writing them down. I gasped, shocked when they called out 'femmina.' (female)
'But it's a boy!' I cried after hearing that my little baby boy was indeed a little baby girl.
'Who said anything about the sex.' said the assistant not so nicely.
'Um, you said femmina...'
'Femur, not femmina.' She sourly clarified.

Oh, ok so they were talking about the length of his thigh and not his sex. Oh...having a baby in a different country, in a different language can be stressful!

For this reason I was very happy to begin the first of my 10 session prenatal class today. The hospital arranges a course and even though I'm sure I'll forget everything they teach us, I wanted to try and pick up some useful vocabulary for the delivery itself. I know the word for push in Italian, but birthing wise that's about it! I was pleasantly surprised by the first session. It was great to meet other pregnant women and to find out that some of my ailments are their ailments too, some of my concerns were theirs and some of my crazy thoughts were not so crazy after all. My twin sister told me that in Australia you can visit the birthing suites before actually giving birth, and I was convinced that here, at the public hospital they would offer no such thing - but I was wrong! I'm looking forward to next week and hearing more about why we should bring chocolate into the delivery room. Yep, I think I'll enjoy the next 9 sessions.

The cost of having a baby in Italy

2010-11-20T21:24:00.008+01:00

Before falling pregnant, I had often heard that having a baby in Italy is free. Since becoming pregnant I have found out that for most people this is not the case. The cost of medical care varies from region to region and I can only speak of my experience being pregnant here in Calabria.

In Italy you can choose to go private or public. Private means you call and book your own appointments with a gynecologist in his/her private clinic. The majority of these doctors work in the public hospitals and have a private practice on the side. You will be looking at paying around 100 euro per visit - and this is without a receipt. If you ask for a receipt then you'll pay more, about 120 euro. Why...well - I'll let you figure that out, don't forget this is Italy we are talking about! You can have visits, and also ultrasounds at these private clinics, but don't be shocked if you get charged as much as 150 euro for an ultrasound. Also, don't be expecting a calm, orderly experience. Yes, it may be more calm then a lot of hospitals but you still have to wait your turn. When I went for a private visit, I was given an appointment at 10:30am. Stupidly thinking it would be like a doctors appointment in Australia, I assumed at about 10:45-11:00 I would be seen. I did not expect to walk into a waiting room full of women who had all been given a 10:30am appointment. It is then first come, first served of the batch of women with the same appointment time.

If you don't go private then the other option is to go public, which means booking your appointments with the public hospital. Here in Calabria gynecologist visits during pregnancy are free at the public hospital for all pregnant women. A lot of people prefer to go private since often you have to wait for an appointment at the public hospitals, and also you may see a different doctor each time. If you go private you can call and mostly make an appointment for the next few days. If you go to a big public hospital (such as Cosenza) then you need to wait about 3-4 weeks for a visit. If you're closest public hospital is smaller and less busy then the wait it much less. Bel fidanzato and went private for our first appointment, were shocked by the price for all 2 minutes of the gynecologists time, and since then have gone public. We have seen the same gynecologist each time and although she may not be the most happy, friendly person, at least she is always the same person, and at least she is free and seems to know what she is talking about.

Having ultrasounds and getting your blood/urine tests are charged depending on your circumstances. If you want to have anything done at a public hospital then you need to go to your general doctor and get them to write you a receipt/ticket. In Italy you register with a doctor, and this also is a free service for all Italians. If you visit another doctor then you pay, but if you see 'your' doctor, it is free. For example, your gynecologist will say you need to get X,Y,Z blood tests, you then visit your doctor who writes these on a ticket, and you then either go to a private clinic and pay, or make an appointment at the public hospital. If you go public, you will need to pay for this ticket. The price of a ticket depends on what you are getting done. If you need to have an operation, anything at all (not just pregnancy things), you must get a ticket and make the necessary payment. This can be anything from 2 euro - 40 euro, and possibly more as I don't pay for a ticket.

Now, why don't I pay for tickets? Well, thankfully here there is help for those on lower incomes. When we moved to Malito, bel fidanzato and I went to the comune to see what assistance there was. A friend had told us that she has this health care card of sorts which also gives you a discount on the electricity bill and medicine. To request this assistance you have to declare your earnings (as an individual/couple/family) for the previous financial year. If you fall below the threshold then you are entitled to this aid. Bel fidanzato and I fall into the bracket of low income. You also have to declare all assets, which unfortunately for us is next to nothing at the moment! I would recommend that those of you living in Italy go and speak to your comune to see if you can get this benefit.

It has been a god send for me since I have so far only paid 105 euro during my pregnancy (100 euro for my first private visit, then 5 euro later for this special sugar drink test to see if I had diabetes.) Since developing diabetes, I've had to have extra ultrasounds to make sure the baby is not growing too big, I also have to visit the diabetes specialist nearly every week, on top of my monthly gynecologist visits, and blood tests. I've recently been put on insulin and have not had to pay as much as one cent for my blood level testing kit, my testing strips, little needle things, and the actual insulin-pen like contraption thing I have. I do pay for my multi vitamins, but then that is to be expected as they are not a necessity, but a choice! In this sense, for me, having a baby in Italy has been money wise, stress free.

Up until my last blood test, I was also able to visit a beautiful private clinic and not pay for tests, but at the end of September there was a change in law here in the region of Calabria that says those of us with this benefit can no longer use private clinics. This is fair enough and not something I can be angry about as I did think it was a little too good to be true that I was able to go to any private blood testing clinic and have my tests done for free. The down side of this is that to book in for blood tests at public hospitals often means a long waiting list. The upside of this downside is that normally when you tell people you are pregnant they give you a little special treatment, and let you bend the rules....most of the time.

Now I've explained private and public costs for appointments, ultrasounds and blood tests, I need to move on to the birth itself. The funny thing that I have found is that the majority of women go private during the pregnancy, but then go public for the birth. This is for a few reasons. As I said above the majority of private gynecologists work in the public hospitals, so will be there to deliver your baby, also the public hospitals are much better equipped to deal with emergencies should they arise. The Cosenza public hospital also has a beautiful maternity ward. The rest of the hospital is as ugly as can be, but as soon as you enter the maternity ward you are put at ease by the pastel colours decorating the place. The corridors, bedrooms, everywhere you look, it painted in pinks, blues, purples, greens and yellows. My friend who has given birth there twice has nothing but positive things to say about the care she received in hospital.

When the baby starts letting you know 'it's time' then you need to go to the emergency ward. If your waters break, or contractions start then you don't book into the hospital. (If you have a C-section, or are going to be induced etc...then you make an appointment but it's still free.) Once you are seen and assessed you'll be sent up to the maternity ward, given a bed in the shared rooms (most of them are 2 or 3 beds) and then discharged after a few days.

So that is my rather confusing description of having a baby in Italy - well, a description of my experience having a baby in Italy! If you have questions I will try and answer them, and I will be posting more on this topic too.

EDIT: You may want to read my comments, as after posting this a fellow blogger has lashed out at me for basically taking advantage of the Italian government, saying that more or less I should not be entitled to this benefit. Perhaps I was not clear with my post, but I would like to say again that healthcare in Italy is more or less free FOR EVERYONE and that people only pay for tickets. In Calabria a gyno visit during pregnancy is always free regardless of your situation.

I would also like to say again that this benefit that I have is for people on a lower income - not just unemployed people, and furthermore I am not unemployed. I work and I pay tax (a lot.) I will apply for this benefit again next year, and I will get it again as my income from 2010 will still be under the threshold. A lot of people have lower incomes in Italy- by saying lower income I don't mean we are poor, starving victims crying out for help. I just mean that the government has at least acknowledged that if you fall below XXX euro per year, then you are able to get a little bit of help with medical care. There is a massive, massive differnece in wages here in Italy, a large division between high and low income earners, and FYI my discount on the electicity bill is a whopping 6 euro if I am lucky - so it's not like I am not paying even for my lap top to work! There are many benefits available in Italy and I do not claim, nor have I ever requested any of them. The differnece between me, and someone without this benefit is that they pay for their ticket and I don't. The operations, the doctor visits, the medical care is always free in Italy, you just pay a minimal amount for a ticket. I hope one day to not have access to this benefit, I hope one day my income is no longer in the lower wage category, I hope to have a finished house which will be a great asset to me...I hope, I hope.

Ancient town of Amantea

2010-11-19T19:04:00.005+01:00

After visiting Fiumefreddo, we drove a little further down the Calabrian coast until we reached the town of Amantea. The town is rather large, about 14,000 and the new part is quite a bustling place, full of shops, restaurants, bars, noise, traffic and chaos! It is a popular tourist spot for Italians and foreigners alike and picturesque as it's built into the cliff with the new town based at the bottom, slowly working it's way up, and the old, ancient town being situated at the top.

Amantea was a very important town, held in high esteem by the Arabs who used this town as a strong-hold, thus the origins of the name. Amantea is of Arabic origin meaning strong hold.

We drove up as far as possible. Once you reach the entrance to the old town you either have to walk up the street, cobbled streets, or enter on a scooter. Not having the latter, we used our feet but my 29 week pregnant feet could not make it all the way to the very top where the ruins of the castle lies. Just as well since it wasn't our day for visiting castles, like the one in Fiumefreddo, this one too was closed for work. Not to matter as I had visited the castle a few years before!

After visiting the old town we drove down to the Amantea beach where we had lunch, enjoying the strangely warm weather. Even my belly liked the beach!

Visiting Fiumefreddo

2010-11-14T22:07:00.014+01:00

It felt like springtime had returned to Calabria this weekend, even though we are in the middle of autumn with winter waiting at the door. Bel fidanzato, my ever growing stomach and I were playing host/tour guide to bel fidanzato's cousin. He is from Texas and was only visiting for the weekend. With the weather on our side we headed off to the coast to visit the beautiful medieval town of Fiumefreddo Bruzio.

The village is part of the club 'Borghi piu belli d'italia' (the most beautiful small villages of Italy) and it rightly has such a title. There is a run down castle which was apparently built in 1201 and it was closed since it seems work is being done to restore it.

The village is small, with a population of approximately 3,100 people (which is massive compared to the 800 odd inhabitants of Malito!) The village is well preserved, and it is apparent that the locals pride themselves on their home. The small, cobbled streets lead to a spectacular piazza which has views over the emerald green Tyrrhenian sea. There are not any grand sites or monuments to see, other then a few well maintained, charming churches, the castle and old town gates but the reason that I like this village is that it is a small, stunning, but simple medieval town.
If you decide to pay the village a visit then head up to the top of the hilltop which is where the old village lies. Like most Calabrian seaside towns, these days there is the new town of Fiumefreddo down on the coast and this beautiful little village all the way up the top.

A call back from Prenatal

2010-11-11T20:53:00.002+01:00

Shock horror! I actually received a phone call from a Prenatal customer service operator on Wednesday. A lady called Rosy phoned me. Upon hearing my accent she asked where I was from, and upon hearing my far from perfect Italian response she became extra nice, speaking clearly in well paced Italian so that I could understand her.

She must have been confused since bel fidanzato helped me write the complaint, therefore as you can imagine it was in perfect, professional Italian. The voice that answered the phone (me) was far from perfect and far from professional as I always begin my conversations with the polite lei form but then forget halfway through and revert to using the informal tu. Rosy though was patient and seemed to understand what I was babbling on about. She told me that Prenatal was sorry for the order arriving as it did, and that she could not explain it, but imagined that someone had probably opened the pack thinking there were clothes or something of value inside. I am not sure how you could mistake a pack of maternity pads for clothes especially since there is a giant pad on the front of the pack, but anyway - at least she was trying to think of a good excuse.

I told her that I was disappointed blah, blah and she said that she wanted to email me a 10 euro coupon to use online. I was happy with this offer since my total order had come to 16 euro, and the pads themselves had only cost me a little over 3 euro.

So now, I'm off to search the site to see what I can buy for baby without having to spend anything extra myself.

Knock knock - who's there?

2010-11-08T18:44:00.009+01:00

Knock knock, who's there?

It's the postman, that's who and he has a nice, big parcel for you!

Internet shopping is not very popular in Italy and I am beginning to understand why. When living in and out of Australia I often bought things online, on Australian websites - ebay.com.au is one of the main sites I've used multiple times. I've purchased many gifts for my nephew and never had any problems. While living in and out of London I regularly buy things from British sites. Ebay.co.uk has supplied me with many of my bomboniere needs, I have bought loads of English books and appliances from amazon.co.uk, and this is only to mention a few of the more well known sites. I love Internet shopping as I can get what I want without having to bother going out and about searching the shops for it.

I have bought only once from the ebay italian website, mainly because the postage costs less if I buy products being shipped from the UK...yes, another one of those inexplicable things about Italy. The first time I bought something from the Italian ebay site was when I saw a big, electronic, childrens 3 wheeler motorbike which was going to be for the babies first Christmas (which will be December 2011...yes, I like to buy things in advance.) It was so cute and the price was great, I was the highest bidder after watching all the time. So I bought the motorbike and of course it never came. The vendor which had 99% rating before I bought, had dropped down to 60% after the purchase. All the feedback was saying the company was a fraud and to get your money back from paypal ASAP since this fraudster would obviously not even respond to emails or phone calls. I was disappointed as I knew deep down that this bargain was too good to be true.

I didn't give loose faith however in internet shopping and wanted to give Italian sites another try (yes, stupid me.) I needed to buy a plastic change mat for baby, one of the larger ones you can attach to the change table. I also needed to buy some maternity pads which for some reason cannot be bought at supermarkets here in Italy (well in Calabria anyway) but only from mother-care shops and select chemists. I searched the internet and decided to buy from the Prenatal site. I chose Prenatal since they had the best prices, but they are also a massive, international company.

My pack arrived quickly, the items had been on special and the postage was very cheap which came as a shock. The courier delivered it to the door and I was so excited to finally be getting ready for the babies arrival. I opened the box and the change mat was perfect. I reached in the giant box to pull out the maternity pads and they were open. Not a rip as though it had caught on something, but the packet was open. There was meant to be 18 pads in the pack and I only counted 8 at the top. Maybe there were 10 on the bottom row? I opened the packet fully and counted out 17 pads. Someone had sent me an open packet of maternity pads with one pad missing!

Bel fidanzato helped me write a complaint telling Prenatal that this unacceptable not to mention unhygienic as I have to wear these pads! The pads are not individually wrapped - so who knows what has gotten inside them, dust, dirt....whatever.... But more so, who on earth would steal a maternity pad? Who would put an open packet into a box and send it to someone? I am still waiting for a reply so I'll let you know the outcome...but really - who steals one maternity pad? Really...who?

More of my knitting

2010-11-07T21:46:00.003+01:00

Knit, purl, stockinette, reverse stockinette, cast off, bind...k2tog, p2tog, yo, pwise - it's not Arabic, although sometimes it feels like it - it's knitting. If I understand the pattern, if I can translate the k2tog into knit two stitched together, then find it relaxing to knit...most of the time. When I make a mistake and realise 10 rows later, when I try to work backwards and cancel the worked rows, and end up making a big, fat, horrible mess then knitting makes me angry...but as of late I have been doing a bit of relaxing knitting.

You may recall that I am knitting the baby a jumper. Thanks to bel fidanzato's mums help, we have finished the back and I am onto the front! This is how it looks so far:

If you look at my other post, you'll see that the back is all green. I am making the front and the sleeves two toned - not to be all fancy, but because I obviously did not think of the quantity of wool I would need when I began to knit. I bought 1 ball of this lovely greenish wool in Scotland and assumed it would be big enough to knit a jumper....but it's not so bel fidanzato's mum taught me to work with two colours and I am pleased with how it's coming along.

I also made the baby some play woolen cubes the other. When my twin told me 8 months ago that she was pregnant, not only did I want to start trying for a baby of my own, I decided to hand make it something special. This was when I actually restarted to knit. At that stage bel fidanzato's mum tried to teach me how to knit booties, but it was just too complicated for me. I was making enough mistakes with the plain old knit stich, so I decided to knit a blanket by having small squares of different colours. The blanket took me forever, the squares were all different shapes, they were wonky, full of mistakes and holes when I had dropped stiches and was not at all special, but rather quite crude. I couldn't possibly give it to my twin as a gift as she surely would not use it....and if she was kind enough to use it, she'd probaly have to tell friends that a child had made it!

So I kept the blanket, but could not throw it away after all the time I'd wasted not really perfecting my knitting skills. I then found out I was pregnant, and as my pregnancy progressed my ability to knit progressed too. The other week I was searching the internet for hand made toys and came across a simple cloth cube, and thought - why not take my blanket apart and make some woolen cubes! Don't look too close as you can see they are wonky, but baby isn't going to care. They are very soft which is the most important thing. I sewed A B C D on one cube and am not sure if I'll sew letters, numbers or maybe shapes on the other two, or if I'll leave them blank.

Autumn in Italy

2010-11-05T19:24:00.007+01:00

Crisp days, blue skies, the trees are shedding their leaves dusting the ground in brilliant shades of gold and red. Autumn has arrived in Italy and you can really see it when you live in the mountains. The smell of fireplaces burning fills the small, near deserted streets of Malito. The population here has dropped, all of the summer residents have returned to Rome, Milan, or the nearby city of Cosenza.

Autumn in Calabria, in Italy, is not always a beautiful thing. When the skies aren't blue, they are grey with fierce storm clouds showering us in torrents of non-stop rain. When it rains in Italy, it really rains. At the beginning of the week, the streets of Cosenza had been turned into dirty rivers that reached halfway up the car. I wished I had a 4 wheel drive. I was scared my car was going to conk out with the amount of water I was driving through. I had left bel fidaznato at work and was on my way to the hospital for some blood tests and my diabetes visit. I made it, in one very wet piece. But autumn being autumn meant the next day was hot once again and the road/rivers were a thing of the past.

Lately I have been busy with working a few days, my never ending visits to the hospital, meetings with bilingual priests and buying things for the baby. My diabetes can no longer be controlled by diet, so I have started on insulin which was to be expected. We are at the 7 month mark now, and on Monday I have another ultrasound appointment to check babies growth. He's not ready to come yet though and I am sure this time next autumn he'll be crawling around trying to eat all of the fallen leaves...I can't wait!

3 pregnant sisters

2010-11-01T20:56:00.003+01:00

1 down, 2 to go. Above is my poor attempt at trying to make it look like I was in the actual photo! You can see me a few weeks ago, so when I was 24 weeks or something pregnant (we're 27 now...almost at the 7 month mark!) in the centre is my older sister who will give birth in April 2011, and on the right is my twin sister who was 39 weeks when this photo was taken. She has now given birth to her second little boy but sadly I shall have to suffice with photos at the moment as I won't get to meet him until he comes to visit next year for my wedding!

Fro big city to small town

2010-10-23T12:50:00.004+02:00

There are many reasons why I like living in Italy and in particular why I like living in a small village of 800 or so people. People thought we were mad when we announced that we wanted to relocate to Malito, which is a small village in the mountains about a 20 minute drive from the main city of Cosenza (Calabria.) Before that we had spent most of our time together as a couple living in Rome, some of that time together living in Sorrento and time apart living other parts of Italy (and the world.) People thought bel fidanzato had corrupted me, bribed me or kidnapped me, forcing me to come here. They were shocked when we told them it was actually the other way around - I was the one who first raised the idea of moving to Malito.

We knew we wanted to start trying for a family. We knew that Rome was a beautiful city to visit - but in our opinion not the most beautiful city to live. No, let me rephrase - Rome is a fantastic place to live if you are without responsibilities (like wanting to have a baby) if you have family already living there, and if you have a lot of money. You need good money to live in Rome, two people have to work and have a pretty good wage just to be able to pay the rent. Most people live in apartments and that was not something I wanted. Call me spoilt, but I was raised in a house, with a backyard and this was what I wanted my future child to have. I could not bare the thought of trying to have a baby, all alone, in Rome whilst living in a tiny apartment in the middle of no where. I couldn't stand the idea of having to leave the baby with an unknown baby sitter if I wanted to return to work, and having an apartment so small that the babies cry would vibrate against the walls driving me mad. It was the thought of having a baby that made me decide to broach the subject on moving back to Calabria.

Moving down here has not been without it's problems. Moving to Malito meant making a lot of sacrifices too. Bel fidanzato and I have always worked, and had no problems finding work in Rome. We knew moving down here would mean joining a long line of unemployed people as it is hard to find work in the south. If you find work you get paid a lot less then in other parts of Italy and often finding work does not depend on your merits but who you know. Saying this we knew that the cost of living was a lot less, rather then spending 10 euro on a pizza, you spend on average 4 euro, a glass of wine at the bar will not set you back 5 euro, but about 2. We were lucky enough to have an apartment where we could live rent free and decided to give life in Calabria a go.

We have been here since January and are getting alone pretty well. We have work even if it is not ideal, we have an apartment even if our future home with it's giant backyard is still a few years off and we have back up plans if one day it does not work out. So for now we are not going anywhere at all!

My new hobby - knitting

2010-10-19T18:17:00.002+02:00

When I was little, my gran taught me how to knit. I never really knitted more then a simple scarf but I used to like knitting. My gran made lots of our clothes, hand knitted jumpers, cardigans and just last year I asked her to knit me a matching beanie and scarf set since I knew moving to Malito would mean moving into a freezing, cold, sometimes snowing winter.

My gran is living in Australia, so it's a little hard to have knitting lessons with her, but I have found more then one willing teacher here in Malito. Bel fidanzato's mother is fantastic at knitting so she is helping/re-teaching me how to knit. Knitting is hard enough to begin with, but try learning new patters in Italian...so hard. I know the English words for the stitches, but had a difficult time trying to understand bel fidanzato's mother at first. Her knitting is like her cooking - no instructions, nothing written, all the patterns are in her head and she adjusts them as needs be. I cannot knit like this as I am just a beginner! When we made our first pair of baby booties I was very annoying as I made her stop after each row so I could write the instructions down. I have the instructions now, and the other day managed to make these little, white booties without any help.

Don't look too close as they are a little wonky. One foot is wider then the other, but I am happy with the result of my first, solo effort of knitting booties! I have to add some pom-poms or a ribbon for the ankle part, but I am ready to make more now. Since both my sisters are pregnant I have an excuse to knit lots, and lots of baby booties.

I didn't want to stop at booties though! I want to make as many things for my baby as I can. A neighbour gave us some old knitting magazines and I was so happy when I was flipping through and found English translations! It is so hard reading a knitting pattern in English, that I could not contemplate reading it in Italian. All these abbreviations, crazy names for simple stitches....thankfully the magazine has Italian instructions too so when I don't understand my English part, I get bel fidanzato's mum to read the Italian part.

I have decided to make baby a little jumper. It is very simple, and was one of the 2 patterns marked 'simple' in the magazine, thus the reason I chose it!

This is the back. Thus far I have knitted the jumper without help, but tomorrow I will have to go and ask bel fidanzato's mum for help since the instructions are turning a little strange...and I have no idea what I have to do next. Not to worry though as baby is not due until the end of January so I have plenty of time to knit him lots of little, cute clothes!

Wine making in Italy. Part 1

2010-10-17T15:43:00.013+02:00

Tomato time has well and truly passed here in Italy. It's October after all which means it's wine making time. Bel fidanzato has not made wine for a few years, but since we are now back in Calabria, living in Malito we decided that this year we would start making our own wine. To make wine you'll need:

Grapes. These dark, juicy grapes come from Donici which is a grape growing town near Malito. Don't ask me what type of grapes they are as I have no idea! We don't have enough grape to pick and use our own, so for the time being we buy grapes. We hope to plant lots of grape vines in our future home, but that is still a few years away. You can use what ever combination of grapes you want to make wine. We used just red, so this is going to be a dark, rich, strong wine. Lots of people add some green grapes to make the wine lighter.

These cases of grapes should give us 100-120 litres of wine.

Lots of Italians also have a cantina, which is a storage room of sorts for storing - and making - wine. Bel fidanzato's family have a small cantina in one of the country properties. The cantina is full of beautiful, old, antique wine bottles which I just want to steal as decoration for our home! When we moved here in January, long before wine making time, some of these bottles happened to find there way into our apartment...

I am not so knowledgeable about making wine, and was quite surprised to learn that you do not have to clean the grapes...so don't worry if you see some little spiders or insects mixed in with the grapes. This wine is going to be 100% natural - no chemicals, nothing added except for grapes, and the odd insect it seems.

Once you have the grapes, the first thing you need to do is separate the vine part and the grapes. To do this, the family has this:

Once this machine (I have not idea what it is called) is clean, you take it into the cantina and fill the top with grapes. Have a look inside and you will see what the grapes will be squashed by.

Now it's time to tip the grapes into this machine.

It is hand operated, and you want the grapes to fall into the container below, while the vine part falls into a different bucket. When you turn the handle, there is a metal, colander type thing which pushes the grape vines out, rather then down into the container.

This is what you are left with: a container of grapes which you need to leave as is for about 48 hours, and a container of grape vines which some people throw away, and like us, some people keep to use later.

More house pictures

2010-10-13T20:12:00.017+02:00

Sarah-Elizabeth has got some house plans over on her blog. She and her husband are renovating an old country house in Perugia and when I saw her plans, it got me all excited about our plans as some of her ideas are my ideas!

So here are some more photos of our future home. You will have to use your imagination a bit - well, a lot. The other day you saw the old school house rooms which, for the moment, we have no idea what they will be. Let me now show you around the rest of the house.

Here is the picture of the house again.

See that door on the left with the ladder on the ground in front of it? That may very well become the entrance, and will lead into the kitchen/living room. This door leads into the old house which still has dirt floors, and we are hoping to knock down the wall a bit, and make an arch which connects this old house to the 'new' house.

Let's go through that old door.

Opps! The old door is blocked by something, so let's walk around the side, and enter from the other door. This house has about 4 entry doors at the moment. We are going to walk through the door which is closer to the front of the photo.

The door behind that leads into an old chestnut room... Yes, there is a room for chestnut storage and what not, which really needs a post of it's own. I think I am confusing you all as it is! There are two rooms through the door, which are the rooms under the ones we are working on.

We are not sure what this first room will be. It also joins to the new house, so maybe we'll put a doorway in or something. Maybe we'll make it into a storage room for food...maybe laundry/bathroom....maybe a playroom...maybe....maybe...

Let's go through the door, to what we think may become our kitchen/living room.

Now let's enter the 'new' house. There is yet another door, next to the old door we just entered. This is the first room you come to when entering from this door. We don't know what this will be. Perhaps a laundry?

Let's walk into the next room. Perhaps this can become a playroom, computer room library type room? We have enough rooms that the baby and his future siblings can have a room of their own to play in.

If we make the room into the above idea, then it could connect quite well to the next room. Let's keep walking. There is a toilet in between these 2 rooms, which you can't see, but I see no reason why that cannot stay there.

Now this room will most probably become the living room/kitchen. See that far wall with the painting on it? If you knock through that, you have the last old room that we saw. Can you imagine a beautiful archway and an open plan kitchen/dining? We can!

Let's walk upstairs.

This room was a bedroom, and very well may become our bedroom. If you knock down the wall on the right - the wall you can't really see in this photo, then you connect with the old school house.

Here is the second room next to the bedroom. It's a good size bedroom, or a very, slightly too large bathroom. Maybe we want all the children bedrooms on the same floor?

The stairs at the moment only go up one floor, but we're going to have to extend them for the top floor. Above these 2 rooms you just saw, and above the 2 room at the old school house, is an entire floor. This top floor has no connecting walls, so it is the old and new house. Maybe bedrooms and bathrooms? We don't need an attic as we have more then enough rooms (inside and out.)

I must stop with the photos now as I have not only confused anyone who is still reading, but have confused myself!

Our country house

2010-10-05T18:52:00.008+02:00

The slowest, but cheapest builders in the world finally finished our roof last week and we couldn't be happier! They have cleared away all the left over material which was piled in front of the house, and now we can really picture how our future home will be. Renovations are now on hold while we save, save and save some more since the next project will be reinforcing the internal walls. We want to be involved with 'building' our house, so we bought some picks have started chipping away at the walls in the older part of the house. The main house is currently divided into two houses since the oldest part used to be a school until about 30 or so years ago. Bel fidanzato's dad used to teach there and a lot of the towns people went to school here. Back in the day there were many schools scattered around, one in the village for the children who lived there, and a few in the country for the children living there. In this photo you can see the 3rd house at the front/left, which will be left as is for the time being. I think this too used to be a school, but I am not sure. We have no money to do up this third house so for the time being we will concentrate on the main one!

The stairs you see in the photo lead up to what used to be the old school.

Under the stairs is just a little storage room and the other door you see on the ground floor may become our kitchen. We have no idea what rooms will be where just yet as we need to speak with the engineer who is doing the plans of the house.

This is an internal view of the new roof. We now have 3 floors, well I should say we will have 3 floors since once the walls have been reinforced we need to remove all of the floors and relay them since they are literally about to fall down in the old school house! We will also open up the walls somehow and connect the 2 houses to make them into one.

These are the 2 rooms which were the old school house. They need the most work, and we are chipping away at the walls until we reach 'stable walls.' When we save enough money, some workmen will come in and put some steal or iron rods into the walls and then cover them up again. Don't ask me why, how, what as I don't know really what's going on...I just chip away at the walls!

I feel like an archaeologist whilst chipping away as I discovered a wardrobe/bookshelf or something like that built into the wall which had been covered up. It could even be an old door connecting the 2 houses, but the old people who used to live in this house don't remember a door or wardrobe so it must be very old! The house itself, we are learning, is more then 200 years old. I discovered this ancient 'hole in the wall' since I only chip away at the 'easy' parts of the wall. Baby and I like to help bel fidanzato, but it can be hard work chipping away stone, so I find the softer parts which are surprisingly easy to chip away at. I also discovered a covered up fire place which you can see in this photo. It was easy to chip away as bricks were used to close it up. I then left bel fidanzato to chip away at the rest of the stone wall, while I moved on to other parts.

Stay tuned as there is much more of the house to come.

Baby update

2010-10-04T22:12:00.004+02:00

Bel fidanzato, baby and I are doing well. We are almost at the 6 month mark which means before we know it baby will be here with us!

Can you tell what you are looking at? That's babies bottom, babies thighs and babies little private parts. See that fuzzy part in between the legs? Well, maybe you guessed it, maybe not - but that fuzzy part is to let us know that baby is a little boy!

I knew that I would have a boy. My older sister has a boy - and is pregnant again which makes all 3 of us sisters pregnant at the same time! My sister is about 10 weeks behind us, and we are about 12 weeks behind my twin sister who is due to give birth at the beginning of November. She already has a little boy who will be 1 in a few weeks. So, both my twin and my sister have a boy as the first born, so I knew we too would have a boy. It's going to be baby boy-ville next year when all of my little nephews come to Italy for my wedding. I'm going to have to find lots of cots before they arrive!

Our little boy is doing well and likes dancing up quite a storm in the mornings when I wake up and in the evenings when I am relaxing watching t.v. He is also the 'correct' size and weight which is good since I was worried a few weeks ago. I was last weighed at 21 weeks and I have only put on 1kg - that is 1kg from my starting weight. Baby and I are on a type of diet which is why I have only gained 1kg. In fact I have lost weight in this pregnancy! My clothes are looser on my legs and my stomach does not seem that big for 6 months. Everything I eat goes to baby and he leaves nothing for me which is fine - as long as he is getting what he needs!

Don't worry and think that baby and I are on a diet of sorts due to some eating disorder or the like. Our diet was 'forced' against me since I have gestational diabetes (diabetes when pregnant.) Most women get tested at about 24 weeks or so (I think) but I asked to be tested long ago since diabetes runs in my family, and my twin has had gestational diabetes during both pregnancies. I have to test my blood sugar levels 3 times a day and keep it with a set range (which is hard.) I also have to visit a diabetes specialist once every two weeks. Slowly I am learning what I can and can't eat. I eat now next to no rice, little pasta, bread and potatoes, I have special sugar free cereal and biscuits for breakfast and eat hardly any sweets. No soft drinks, or any type of drink unless they are sugar free... So that is why I have not gained weight! I would love to be eating cake and ice-cream right now but can't! No seconds of pasta for me, I now have to eat less pasta then everyone else and pizza - don't get me started. I do eat pizza but really should stop...next time we go out I'll have to eat only half. I really don't want to be put on insulin so am trying to be as good as possible with the diet...Not sure if it's working though as my sugar levels are going crazy this week, but I am convinced my little testing kit isn't working properly since I've been extra good. I'll have to call the specialist tomorrow and have a chat, so here's to hoping that my machine is not working and that my sugar levels are actually ok!

House update

2010-09-23T22:22:00.007+02:00

Baby may be coming to live with us at the end of January, but that does not mean we'll be moving into our future home. That, unfortunately is still a long way off. Our future house is a lovely, old, stone building. I am not sure how old it is as we need to do some investigation into this, but about 50 years ago it used to be a school, a small school mind you, but a school none-the-less. Us living there is a long way off for 2 reasons: 1 we have only enough money at the moment to replace the roof, and secondly we have the world's slowest builders working for us. They have spent the summer taking off the old roof and they still haven't finished putting it back on. When people say you need patience to live in Italy they are NOT joking. These builders are slow because they take on more work then they can manage during the summer months. One day you see them working on your house, the next day at someone else's and it is not unusual for a week to go by and they don't do anything to your house at all. Annoyingly they cost less then other builders and when they get around to finishing do a good job...so for the time being we have to be patient.

When the builders started taking off the roof they found some unstable walls, so had to knock the walls down until they reached something secure. They then had to rebuild these walls, and also raise them as we want to have a usable 3rd level. Before it was not high enough to be a floor, but now it is.

Our house is obviously the one without the roof. It looks small compared to the beast of a 5-bathroom-who-knows-how-many-bedrooms-house behind us.

The builders have fitted all the wooden panels onto the roof and now just need to relay the old tiles, and add the drain pipes (or what ever they are called.) The bricks you see are where they re-laid the new walls, and it will have to stay looking like that for now. We can cover that at a later stage, but there is more important work to be done.

These photos were taken from our balcony as we use the zoom on the camera to spy on the builders from afar. I will take some more photos once they get around to laying the tiles. We then need quotes on how much it'll cost to relay all of the floors, as being old, most probably some of them will have to be destroyed and replaced nice, safe and evenly.

How to bottle tomatoes

2010-09-22T19:10:00.013+02:00

A few weeks ago I helped bel fidanzato's mum, dad and brother with bottling tomatoes. Bel fidanzato was at work, but it didn't matter as it was a small operation. There were not as many tomatoes this year for a few reasons. One of the main reasons is that there is a cinghiale - wild boar - living in our future home! The old 'farmers' who look after the land have not seen this wild boar, but he leaves his horrible foot prints around, and has destroyed a lot of the crops. Have you ever seen a wild boar? Nasty things. I have only ever seen them in Sardinia and was very scared. They are dangerous and grow into massive beasts.

So, we had less tomatoes this year but more then enough to keep us going. When bel fidanzato and I eventually live in our future home, we will learn (from the old farmers) how to look after the crops and then hopefully watch them flourish!

To bottle tomatoes you first need to collect them and wash them. These tomatoes are not the perfect, round, bright red ones you find in supermarkets. They come in all shapes and sizes, often are ugly but the taste cannot be beaten!

The tomatoes then need to be chopped up - not too small. Also keep the skin on them, no need to peel them or anything! You'll need to have some well cleaned bottles and a wooden spoon or something to push the tomatoes down with.

All you need to do is start putting the chopped tomatoes into the bottle, and use the spoon to help you push them down. Don't mash up the tomatoes too much by pushing with the spoon. If the tomatoes are really juicy you can drain a little of the juice out before closing the bottles firmly.

Once all the bottles are full you need to put them into a large container. You are going to fill this container with water and then boil it, with the bottles inside. We boiled ours over the fire place as we were at the country property. You need to boil the bottles for an hour or so, once the water has started to actually boil. There is no hard and fast rule though as I am sure ours were boiling longer then that! They then need to be left in the water overnight, and the next day you can take them out and store them away for the winter time.

Easy really! Bel fidanzato's parents ofter bottle one or two bottles at home. Here in Italy, you find that friends, neighbours - who ever - just turn up at your door with crates of fresh tomatoes without warning. Bel fidanzato's cousin called us last night to come and collect some tomatoes from his plants as he could not get through them all. I've gone from never having picked a tomatoe in my life, to being quite the expert. You have to eat as many tomatoes as you can while they are fresh (so lots of tomatoes salads, pasta with fresh tomatoe sauce etc...) then not to waste the rest, just bottle one or two bottles of the remainder tomatoes at home. Bel fidanzato's parents are bottling a random bottle or two in the kitchen most days as the tomatoes are still coming in thick and fast!

Back to blogging

2010-09-20T21:19:00.011+02:00

Ahh...tis been a while since my last blog. I have had to revert back to primitive blogging for now since I have some errors that will not let me blog with my usual blog settings. Don't ask what or why as I have no idea, but am happy that after playing around as an I.T tech for days and days finally I can blog.

Before these technical difficulties, I had not blogged as I had been away...in Paris! My aunt was over in Europe for work. She was not coming to Italy, but spending most of her time in Paris and London. Well after living in London and just coming back from Scotland I did not want to go there, so we decided to meet her in Paris for a lovely weekend! It was our first time travelling as parents-to-be, and it was quite an experience. Bel fidanzato and I have travelled a lot - we have slept in cheap hostels, noisy pubs, budget hotels and elegant hotels but we have never travelled 'pregnant' before. I am 21 weeks and the belly is growing by the day. Up to the day we left for Paris I had been feeling quite well, to tell you the truth not even vomited once, that's cause the baby was saving it for our weekend away...

The night before leaving for Paris we had been to yet another one of our friends weddings. It was a wonderful evening but there was way, WAY too much food. We started off at about 8pm and finished dessert at about 1am. There were too many courses and they came out one after the other after the other. I am vegetarian so had a 'special' meal, but there was something that the baby just did not like.

We woke up early the next day and I felt strange. Normally I would have jumped out of bed, excited that we were going to Paris, but I felt sick. I got changed, but had to sit on the bed most of the time as I was so tired, even brushing my teeth was an effort. I didn't want to worry my bel fidanzato so told him to meet me at the car. Well, I was a sorry sight when he walked down a few minutes later! Let's just say we made it, but that the poor cleaners had to be called at the Lamezia airport as the toilet was a little too far away, that the sink in the plane from Rome to Pairs got a little blocked, and I welcomed my aunt - after not seeing her for 7 months by vomiting outside of her plush 4 star hotel.

Luckily bel fidanzato and I had both been to Paris before, so there was no 'stress' to see all of the sites. Being pregnant, I cannot walk as much as before, and have to stop often for a rest as I get tired and out of breath. On our weekend away we saw Paris from a different angle - namely the river. I last visited Paris when my twin sister, her husband and I were back-packing around Europe 7 years ago. We had a budget of 35 euro a day - including food and accommodation, so we walked and walked the city until we could walk no more. We are no means rich now, but could afford to splash out on a 12 euro boat cruise!

All in all it was a good weekend - a shame I could not eat for the first 2 nights, but hey if that's the price I have to pay for having a little baby in my tummy then that's fine by me.

Technical errors...can't seem to blog

2010-09-16T08:58:00.002+02:00

More babies, blood and hospitals

2010-09-03T18:49:00.000+02:00

continued from here.

We walked upstairs and found a swarm of people, all a little lost and confused. There were a few different offices, many glass windows with lines of people waiting. Which office? Which line? There were signs here, but so many of them that they don't make sense.

We walked around looking for some sort of help. Bel fidanzato was still angry and spotted a security guard surrounded by people. He, it seemed, was the information man (short staffed, you know how it is.) We marched up and bel fidanzato tells him that the service at the hospital is ridiculous, that they need an information booth. But there is one down by the entrance, says the man. But it's closed, hissed bel fidanzato. I tugged on his arm. I was hot, tired and hungry and just wanted to get rid of another vial of blood. The security guard/information man looked at our form and told us we had to exit the building, cross the road and enter a totally different building! Bel fidanzato challenged him, warned him that he better not be lying to us as he is sick of getting wrong information.

It is late morning by this stage. We had been walking around for hours, the sun was beating onto our backs as we crossed the road, walked up a really steep driveway and entered one of these buildings. As usual it was full of people and as usual the reception desk was empty. We walked around, eavesdropping on patients complaining that they had been here all morning. Finally I saw a man walk towards the receptionist desks and pause there for a moment. He had on a white coat so I pounced. Are we in the right place? I ask, showing him my doctors form. Yes, of course, but you are too late, the blood analysis department has closed, he responds. Too late...but it was only 10:30am.

Bel fidanzato said as calmly as possible that we had been at the hospital since 8:30am, we had been lied to, pointed in the wrong direction, and what's more I am pregnant and I have to go to Scotland for work so absolutely must have these tests done today! Miraculously this man says 'just one minute.' In just one minute he came back and told us to come with him. We were shown into an office and my situation was explained. Without another word he leaves, and I went about getting my blood done. This blood centre was surely not part of the hospital! This was too good to be true. It turns out that the security guard was not such a good information man as our doctors form should have been stamped first at the ticket office. But never mind. We can return later with that. Also the doctor told us that bel fidanzato must be tested, but he had yet to visit his doctor. Well no point coming back, said the doctor, and she wrote him out a doctors form requesting this blood test.
We both got the blood tests, I waited while bel fidanzato ran back to the ticket office, got the form stamped and then ran back to give it to this doctor.

Italy is really full of extremes....either no one helps you or people go beyond the call of duty to help. Sadly the first is more common.

Bilingual priests

2010-09-02T21:29:00.000+02:00

All is calm on the wedding front at the moment. The venue has been booked, my perfect dress has been found and someone to make it can wait for now, the invitations are half done and once my brother-in-law remembers to give me the printer then they can even be finished, I'm not bothering with booklets for the church and now the church too is sorted.

Bel fidanzato and I were a bit worried about what the parish priest would say. He, like the local doctor, is a fool of a man who makes up the rules as he goes along. Remember our issues when bel fidanzato was getting confirmed? Once we had decided to get married in the church (only to keep my mum happy) we knew that we did not want that priest for the ceremony. He is the dullest man alive and enjoys talking about irrelevant things at weddings. The main part of bel fidanzato's brothers wedding was the priest talking about the lotto and how we should not gamble. At a friends wedding a few weeks ago he talked about baptism and how we all need to be baptised - so you can see he rarely talks about love and what not.

We had to some how get rid of this priest, but without being offensive. We thought it would be hard, but it was not! We went to the church and explained that most of my family does not speak Italian, and we want to have a bilingual ceremony. We casually asked if he spoke English, knowing full well that he did not. The priest said no, and we pretended to um and ah, thinking of a solution. He suggested finding a translator to translate his words (as if!) then we suggested finding a bilingual priest. The priest didn't seem bothered and agreed, saying we can do as we please. (I don't think he really likes us.) We also mentioned that I was pregnant and we wanted to have a joint wedding/baptism. He said he had noticed that I was pregnant (no congratulations or anything, sour, old man) and said that too would not be a problem. Maybe it's because we are already living in sin, maybe it's because we had conflicts with the confirmation, maybe it's because I am pregnant out of wedlock, but he seemed eager to rid us from his church in a hurry. Whatever - we didn't care!

Now to find a bilingual priest, but that will not be a problem as there are a few floating around.

Picnic in the Pollino

2010-09-02T19:53:00.000+02:00

Last weekend bel fidanzato and I went for a picnic about an hours drive north of here, to the Pollino mountains which is part of a National Park. We weren't there by chance, we were there to see some of my aunts and uncles who were on holiday from Australia. My aunts are two of dad's sisters so therefore they were going back to visit their home town, Policastrello, which is surrounded by the Pollino mountain ranges.

The setting for the picnic was beautiful.

The land was well cultivated as herds of cows live in this area of the park and they make sure the grass doesn't get too long. They had run off by the time I whipped my camera out.

We were about 1300m high and the air was refreshingly cool. There was lots of food including hamburgers which my aunts had made Australian style and lots of vegetarian plates for me. I still got harassed by everyone there that the baby needs meat...but I am used to this by now so just smile. And of course there was watermelon as no summers day would be complete without hordes of the stuff!

There was of course lots of music and even a bit of dancing. A man and lady in our group whipped out their guitars and a guy grabbed his accordion from the car.

Picnics are never a dull affair in Italy!

Babies, blood and hospitals.

2010-09-01T20:17:00.000+02:00

We had taken the pregnancy test, been to visit my great, new female doctor, gotten the blood results confirming that the little, pee filled stick hadn't lied, had a million litres of blood taken from me at a flash medical centre in Cosenza (the big city near us) and now we were at the public hospital trying to find where to go to get this other blood test. Neither bel fidanzato or I knew what this other test was. Something to see if we have some sort of genetic condition, a test which can only be done at the hospital, a test which he too had to do.

We had already visited the hospital the day before. It had been a boiling hot spring day. Malito is hot but Cosenza is always about 5 degrees hotter. After taking 3 vials of my blood we drove to the hospital and set about getting some information. The information box at the boom gates had a big, black line through the word ~~Informazione,~~ the blinds of the windows were closed so obviously there was NO information. We had asked multiple people, but no one claimed to know what we were talking about. I was about to faint from the heat and lack of blood and food, my calm, patient bel fidanzato had nearly punched some person with frustration, so we decided to leave and come back early the next day.

That night we asked advice about the location of this random blood testing place. We needed to enter the hospital, turn right, walk, go down the stairs, but not those stairs, go left, right, back, forth, upside down...you get the drift. So the next day, nice and early, we entered the hospital grounds. We tried to follow the random directions we had been given the night before and found a building adjacent to the hospital full of people. Bel fidanzato asked a member of staff, showed her our doctors slip and she told us to continue into this jam packed building. People were spilling outside, there were (as to be expected) no signs, no information, nothing. So after sending me to sit outside in the only small patch of shade I could find, bel fidanzato headed inside. I was confronted by an old woman who wanted to know my life history, and thankfully bel fidanzato came back to me before to long. He had a ticket in his hand. We would have to wait. There were a lot of people in front of us.

Looking around we noticed that the only people waiting were old, really old. There was not one youngish, slightly pregnant looking person in sight. Hmmm... Another hospital employee was accosted, and he said, no this was not the place at all and we had to go into the hospital and to the ticket booth!

Here in Italy you have to go to the ticket office before visiting the doctor/getting blood tests etc...You give them your doctors slip and then you pay/don't pay depending on your financial situation/what you are getting done. You get a stamp on your doctors form and then are free to go and get what ever done.

Now, when I say bel fidanzato is a calm man, I mean he is really the calmest person in the world...but he now had his newly pregnant partner by his side and had been to the hospital not once but twice in two days, so his calm hat had been tossed to the side. We walked into the hospital building and found signs pointing to the ticket office. Great! We walked, and walked, down corridors, walked for what felt like miles when suddenly the signs ended and we were no where. Literally, we were in a blank, empty corridor which was in the process of having building work done.

We back tracked, I silently following bel fidanzato, not daring to utter a word, not sure whether to laugh or cry. A poor hospital employee happened to cross our path and bel fidanzato all but grabbed him by his collar. He angrily demands help. This man went to walk off, but bel fidanzato blocked his path. He explained that we had been here all morning, people had told us repeatedly the wrong information, his partner is pregnant and we need help. This kind man, seeing our frustration, gave us directions on how to reach the new ticket office which has been moved up stairs (ah, so no one has moved the old signs.) Oh, but the journey does not end there. Oh no...to be continued....

Photo night in Malito

2010-08-29T19:16:00.001+02:00

The other night there was a festa of sorts up near our apartment. Last year, a cousin of bel fidanzato and some other locals decided to organise an evening in which a section of the village is focused upon, and everyone gets together to look at old photos. We were not here in Malito this time last year, but this year we are not only here, but we are living in the section that would be the focus of the night.

We live up near the church of San Martino and as the late afternoon approached preparations began:

Vines and flowers were used to decorate the area by the church.

A screen was erected for the slide show.

The dessert table was set up and those of us who live in the area hung coloured cloth (or a floral, orange table cloth in my case) from the windows. You can see my kitchen window in the photo.

Bel fidanzato helped carry the church chairs out so that there would be seats for all. The old people arrived very early just to secure the best seats!

Slowly people filled the church steps and by the time it was dark and the slide show had started there was no where left to sit.

I love village life!

Public Italian health offices

2010-08-28T19:14:00.001+02:00

After my encounter with the stupid doctor, I realised that I would have to get myself and new doctor pretty quick. To get a new doctor you have to go to the ASL offices which is where they issue Italian health care cards (tessera sanitaria.) Our local office was in a village close by, so off we set. We were actually going to ASL for another reason altogether and were waiting in this random office trying to figure out which room to go to. Italian public buildings are a nightmare to navigate. I thank god everyday for having my bel fidanzato to assist me with making life in Italy easier. There are either no signs, or so many signs that they don't make sense.

People were just hanging out in the corridor of this old, ASL building, there was no sense of system, no numbers, no one to ask for help. It is just a corridor like any other, a building like any other After hanging around a bit, bel fidanzato asked a few people before getting pointed to the right door. (You always have to ask multiple people here as everyone gives you a different answer.) We walked through the door and a simple office was in front of me. I have yet to see a fancy public office in Italy! They are all the same and filled with a nondescript table, old boxish computer, billions of cords running here there and everywhere, and some mismatched chairs.

I had been in this ASL office a year or two before when we originally got my health cards sorted. Whilst waiting our turn I looked at the list of local doctors in surrounding villages and saw that some of them were women. Hmm..interesting. Our turn came and we asked our question which ended up having nothing to do with that office. I then asked the man behind the computer if I could change my doctor since I was already here - why not? He looked at me and asked "you're the Australian, aren't you?" I was thrilled! I felt a little famous as it had been a good year or two since I'd been in the office, and even then I had only been once! Yes! I am the Australian and I want to change doctor. Ok, which doctor do you want? I got up and walked over to the list. This doctor I said, randomly choosing a female from the village next to mine.Ok, done.

And it was as simple as that.

I floated out of the office, feeling very happy with myself for changing doctors, and more happy that this man had remembered me. In the car bel fidanzato brought me back down to earth and told me not to think that I was so special and memorable, as come on...really...how many Australians pass through that office? Whatever! So I may the only Australian in the entire region but who cares. He remembered me and that is all that I care about.

Doctors in Italy...hmmm...

2010-08-26T18:02:00.000+02:00

We had started thinking about having a baby so I went to visit my doctor. He is a stupid old man, and I thought little of him after having had a run in a few years back. Let's just say he is a fool, but he was my doctor so I had no choice but to visit him. Here in Italy you register with a doctor, and since there is only one doctor in town, I was registered to him. It is free to visit your doctor, but that does not mean they are any good!

I went to visit this fool, sorry - doctor - and bel fidanzato waited outside, to fend off/answer questions from the curious locals who don't know the meaning of the word privacy and like to ask you why exactly are you visiting the doctor. I went in, with my ok-but-still-far-from-perfect-Italian and explained that I wanted to try and have a baby, and that I believe it is recommended for women to take folic acid a few months before conceiving. My friend had even written the name of these tablets in Italian so there would be no mistakes.

The doctor proceeded to tell me that I do not need this folic acid, as women have been having babies for centuries without any problems. He asked me why I wanted it and I, taking the role of doctor from him, explained that this folic acid helps reduce the chance of a baby getting spina bifida (thank god spina bifida is the same word in both languages!) The doctor ummed and ahhed and said that this was nonsense and all I needed was a diet rich in fruit and vegetables.

I was getting angry by this stage. I am a woman of very little patience as it is and this fool was really, really getting to me. I am vegetarian! I hissed. All I eat is fruit and vegetables. In a trying to stay calm, trying not to scream, angry voice, in some what bad Italian I told him sternly that in Australia women and told to take this, in Italy women are told to take this and I wanted him to write me a prescription. I handed him my slip of paper with the word Folidex clearly written, and he, looking at me like I was a mad lunatic handed me back a prescription.

Grazie, I muttered angrily getting up and leaving his office, knowing that would be the last time that I ever, ever saw his face in an official capacity again. Next task - finding myself a new doctor.

1+1 = dolce attesa

2010-08-25T18:32:00.000+02:00

This photo was taken the other week before going to one of our many weddings. And no...I have not been eating too many cakes...I am in dolce attesa as they poetically say in Italy which means (more or less) sweet wait.

Yep - I am sweetly waiting for bel baby to come and join bel fidanzato and I. We still have a long, long way to go since we are only 17.5 weeks. And no, before you ask bel baby was not an accident! As you know I am in the midst of planning a wedding, so according to some bel fidanzato and I are currently living in sin and all that. Some curious people have asked us if bel baby was a sweet mistake, a lovely surprise perhaps...? and believe me when I tell you these curious people were not all old, black clad Italian women but amongst them a young, modern Canadian girl too.

Oh well, the time has come to accept that I shall have no privacy now that I am pregnant and obviously showing. I do after all live in a country that is obsessed with babies. People who I have never met (at least not that I recall meeting) stop me in the streets of Malito to touch my stomach and ask if it's a boy or girl. People have already placed bets they are so certain she will be a she, and he will be a he, "Look at her stomach, that is the stomach of a girl!" "No, no, that is definitely a boy. I should know, I have 2 of them." "You are so big already are you sure you are not expecting twins?" Yeah, thanks...it's not like I'm already feeling like a fat heffa or anything.

The past 17.5 weeks have certainly been an experience, and now that I have officially told the blogging world of bel baby, I can share with you in posts to come of all my pleasant, and not so pleasant being pregnant in Italy stories.

Tomato time in Italy

2010-08-24T19:32:00.000+02:00

Bel fidanzato and I were washing the car down at one of the country properties earlier when his mother turned up asking if we wanted to come and help pick some tomatoes. September is tomato season in Italy and everyone, and I mean everyone who has a bit of dirt is busy collecting their tomatoes and getting ready for bottling them.

(Since I had intended only to wash the car I did not have the camera with me.) We set off down the road to our future home which is where all the tomatoes lay. We had to walk down, away from the house (which is roofless at the moment as the very slow workmen are in the process of putting on a new roof) past the chickens, past the grape vines heavy with slow ripening grapes, around the large, square well (which looks like a small swimming pool) past the massive, enormous pumpkins which are currently dark green - and there, across from the bright red and green capsicums were rows and rows of fat, juicy, mostly bright red tomatoes.

It was hot, boiling hot even though it was 5 o'clock in the afternoon. I was dressed for car washing (singlet, shorts and thongs) not for tomato picking. The two old "farmers" were already there, a.k.a the husband and wife who used to live in this very house, and to this day still cultivate the land. We have them to thank for the abundant supplies of vegetables we receive! They of course are old hands at picking everything that grows so were dressed accordingly (like they stepped out of an old painting) with small, straw hats, long pants, old flannel shirts opened a little to let in a bit of air, and the most handy item: an apron that is also used to hold the tomatoes while you are waiting for bel fidanzato to return with empty buckets.

I have never picked tomatoes in my life! It is not at all hard once you get used to breaking them off without snapping the entire plant in half. The plants are tall and over burdened with tomatoes so that it is difficult to get the ones in the middle. You should have seen the size of these things! There were 2 varieties (don't ask me which) and some where the size of a cantaloupe.

Saturday we are going to the other country property to begin the bottling process (which I have never done) so I will take the camera with me and fill you in.

Book review - A House in Sicily

2010-08-21T11:12:00.000+02:00

It's pretty hot down here in Calabria. Poor bel fidanzato is the only person not on holidays. Since returning from Scotland I have been to the beach a few times but always go in the afternoon as it is just too hot to go for the entire day. I like going to the beach and always take a book with me as it gets rather tedious just sitting around all afternoon people watching. However I always carefully choose my beach books - I don't choose something light-hearted, I don't take an intriguing thriller...I take a book that I don't really care for so that is it gets wet/ruined I won't care. So not always the best books for a book review!

I often buy English books on the internet so it's never guaranteed I'll enjoy them. Loving Italy as I do, I like reading books about Italy - which some people think is strange as I live here and all. My latest beach read was A House in Sicily - Daphne Phelps.

This book originally caught my attention as it is a true story set in Taormina, Sicily which is where I lived a few years ago. The author, Daphne was a British woman and the book is based around a beautiful villa which her uncle, Robert Hawthorn Kitson built in Taormina since he had fallen in love with the mild climate and picturesque views of Mount Etna. When she first mentioned the name of the villa, Casa Cuseni, I had no idea which villa she was talking about. I am no means an expert on Taormina, but I did work in the tourist industry so knew somewhat about local sites and attractions. She doesn't describe very well where the house is, and the photos in the book are of the guests or the garden rather then the house itself. It was only after internet searches that I realised it was the villa I walked past everyday as it was down the road from my apartment.

In 1948 while the world was still recovering from the war, her uncle died and the house went to the aunt's reader. Being an older woman with no interest in travelling to Sicily to see this house, she asked her niece, Daphne to go...and thus begins the readers love affair with Taormina. I can all to well understand what it means to have a love affair with Taormina and I looked forward to reading this book but just a few pages in it was annoying me. Daphne writes about the villa, her lack of money to restore it in the post-war era and her decision to open her doors to artists, writers etc...and have paying guests help maintain the villa. She gets side-tracked though and each chapter is dedicated to someone who visited the villa (such as Ronald Dahl not that she knew who he was) or someone who worked at the villa. There is a chapter on her meeting the head of the local Mafia, a chapter on some poor gardener who worked for her, a very long chapter about this strange artist friend and his herd of animals...

I was skipping chapters left, right and centre, and only forced myself to read them when my afternoon at the beach was but young and I had a lot of time to kill. Sadly I have to say this book had such potential - it is set in Taormina but far, far to much focus is given to the people she met along the way and not enough about her or her actual life in Taormina. An ok beach read but nothing to get excited about (in my opinion anyway.)

My wedding invitations

2010-08-18T20:37:00.000+02:00

I am on holidays, bel fidanzato is not so I have been taking advantage of my time alone in the house to work on our wedding invitations. My work shop is the table in the living room and I do make a mess with the dried flowers, glitter, string, glue and other bits and bobs.

Here finally are some photos but please note they are not yet finished! I am still working my way through making all the front and back covers. We are going to have a small wedding, with about 90 people but I'll also have to make enough invitations for the people who will not be able to come. I however will not make the envelopes as that is just too much of a bother!

Weddings - an expensive affair in Italy

2010-08-18T20:00:00.001+02:00

It's wedding year here in Malito. Bel fidanzato and I have been to so many already, and with one down last night, we have only (at this stage) 2 more to go until wedding season finishes. We all know that it is expensive to host a wedding, but here in Italy it is also expensive to attend a wedding.

Most couples let it be known if they want buste - envelopes (filled with money) or if they prefer gifts. Some people have gift registries like other countries, but I have never seen one for any of the weddings I have attended. The norm is to take a little, gift sized envelope with you and put some cash inside. Now, the amount of cash depends on the wealth of the givers and also their relationship with the married couple. The aim of the cash filled envelopes is that you are paying for your being at the wedding. You are paying for your meal technically, so the bride and groom don't get lumped with a massive bill at the end of the night. Normally you put a little extra in so they also end the night with some money left over for them and their new life together.

Weddings here range from 65euro per head and up, up, up....and up some more. As a guide a guest will put a minimum of 100 euro per head into the envelope. So you can see what I mean with weddings being an expensive affair for the guests! The Italian weddings I have attended normally all follow the same protocol (I will go into detail in another post.)

At the end of the rather massive meal you all go outside, normally by the swimming pool if there is one at the venue. There is always a lavish buffet of dessert set up and the big wedding cake. In Australia we cut the wedding cake half way through the meal, but in Italy they wait right till the end.

Once the dessert is underway, the bride and groom go and stand near a specially prepared table where they have the thank-you gifts set up, and a decorated box. This is the cue for the guests that they can begin to depart should they wish. Once you are ready to go home, you walk up to the couple, kiss them, thank them etc...and put your little envelope into the box which has a small slit in the top just for these. (I however hand make my little envelopes and cards and the other week it was too big to fit into the slit so the bride had to open the box to put it in!)

I think I'll have to get onto making myself a box for our wedding envelopes one of these days.

Teaching English in Scotland

2010-08-11T18:53:00.000+02:00

I spent my 5 weeks out of Italy in a Scottish city called Dundee, which is about 1 hour from Edinburgh. The city was nice enough - quite similar to where I lived in London. Had it been my first time in the UK I am sure I would have been excited by the quaint townhouses and politeness of the people, but since it was not my first, or even second time in the UK the excitement factor just wasn't there. I forgot how grey the skies always seem, oh and the fact that it rained nearly everyday. I hear London on the other hand has been having a warm summer, but up north in Scotland it was a different story.

Foolishly I had packed sandals and summer dresses, but I never even took them out of the suitcase. Rather I wore my jeans and leggings most days, and was thankful that at the last minute I had decided to throw a jacket into my suitcase. I was also thankful that it was summer sale time as one thing I do miss about the UK is the shopping - great shops and real summer sales (not like a lot of 'fake' Italian ones.)

I lived on campus at the university of Dundee in an apartment that I shared with the other teachers. We taught full time 5 days a week, and half a day every second Saturday. The children were mostly from Italy and Spain, but with some French and Turkish thrown in. It was good to have a mix of students but some how I found myself teaching a class of 16 x 12-14 year old Italians. Memories came flooding back from my PON days teaching at the scuola media here in Calabria. I seem to have a sign on my head saying "pick me to teach the 12 year olds." At least at the scuola media the children bathed.

All of the foreign students were in Scotland for 2 weeks...so for them it was 2 weeks of freedom; no mum or dad telling them what to do, when to shower, when to wear clean clothes.... By the second week those kids stunk. They didn't shower, didn't change their clothes and I think didn't even change their underpants. I kid you not! It was just my class though - none of my colleagues believed me until I made them come in and smell the repugnant, stale air. 14 years old and up you are interested in the opposite sex and therefore want to be clean and smell nice, maybe even use a little deodorant...but when you are 12 who really cares! By the last week one boy was coming to class with pen drawn over his face - everyday the same design which slowly faded. He had drawn on a beard and moustache at the start of the week, and it was still there at the end. Yuck! And the girls...they smelt even worse then the boys. "Teacher, teacher" they used to yell, waving there smelly arms in the air when the wanted help. I dreaded walking over and bending down to help them. My nose always seemed to align with their armpits.

So here I was with a smelly group of all Italians. I had my secret weapon though - they did not know that I spoke Italian. I had a rule (which no one followed) that only English was to be spoken in the class. I confiscated a note off one of the students and they had written (not about me) ha grandi tette which means 'she has big tits.' I had asked them to describe in English some pictures in a magazine and they all thought this not so secret note was hilarious. I took the note from them knowing full well what it meant and asked them to translate it into English. No one would until I refused to teach anymore, and with a bright red face I made the boy who had written it write the note in English and then pass it around the room.

They loved to swear in Italian too, every second word was cazzo this and cazzo and they tried to fool me by saying that cazzo was not a bad word in Italian. They got the shock of their life when on the last day I said goodbye to them in Italian, and explained that I had understood every word they had said in the class! That'll teach them.

Other then those stinkers the bulk of students weren't so bad. Ok, there was the French boy who "accidentally" threw his text book out of the second floor window and nearly hit a colleague on the head, there were the students who fell asleep in class, there was the bunch of older students who were just too cool for school but as thick as they come, there was the boy who claimed to be 18 but looked about 30, there was the Turkish student who told me I was fat, the Spanish girls caught smoking in the toilets during lesson time, and over all very rich kids whose parents have way too much money so learning English was not their top priority. But it was a good experience. Would I do it again? Hmmm.... At least I got to see some nice Scottish castles.

First communion in Malito

2010-08-07T14:17:00.003+02:00

A few weeks before leaving for Scotland, I went outside of our apartment and saw the church decorated with flower petals. I only had my camera with me by chance as had no idea what was going on.

It was the first communion day in Malito and the church was decorated accordingly. Bel fidanzato and I went for a walk, and I noticed that lots of the houses had covers hanging out of the windows. I assumed it was a bit of spring cleaning...but then it was a bit late for that wasn't it? Bel fidanzato explained that some of the people chose to hang coloured cloth from their windows as this is the path that the communion procession will take. It was a lovely site!

The procession started from the main church, then followed the flower petals and coloured cloths until they reached the church up near our house.

Children have to now where the same 'outfit' for the communion. Before children could wear any dress they wanted (girls) and any suit like thing for the boys, but to make it more equal everyone (at least here) has to wear the same gown. I remember when I made my first communion I was so excited to wear a beautiful white dress that my gran had made for my twin and I! I would not have liked to wear the same gown as everyone else, but I do see the point of it.

I didn't actually know about the first communion procession - had I known I would have hung a cloth from my kitchen window which is next to the church. Next year I'll make sure I know in advance so I can add some colour to the town.

Getting married to an Italian

2010-08-03T23:39:00.000+02:00

It's great to be back in Italy again, and continue making plans for our wedding - even if it is not until mid next year.

I have gone off the idea of the 1950s boofy wedding dress. I started to think that such a dress is more for a guest to wear, rather then the bride herself so I got to thinking, had a long search on the internet and have now found my perfect dress. I am going to get it made and cannot post the photo as my bel fidanzato reads my blog and I want to try and keep the dress a secret (not that I am any good at keeping secrets and to be honest I can't remember if I "accidentally" already showed him the dress.)

I have decided on the Grecian style which I think looks romantic and wedding like. I have also scrapped the idea of having a beautiful fascinator in my hair as this will not go with the dress, and will have nothing at all in my hair, or if anything some nice clips or flowers.

Here are some of my inspiration dresses which I will show the dress maker and together I assume we will make a design.

I really want to post the dress I want but I cannot! I want a simple cut with beautiful material. The wedding invitations are going well which I will get around to taking a photo of one of these days. And on Friday bel fidanzato and I have an appointment to view a possible venue. We drove past it the other day and it looks like it'll be just the place for us as we don't want a typical wedding where you have to sit down in a room etc... so I'll keep you posted.

I still have not uploaded any of my photos onto the laptop so my other exciting news will be coming soon.

I'm back

2010-07-30T18:58:00.000+02:00

Finally I am back in Italy, back in Calabria, and back in Malito with my bel fidanzato. I was in Scotland - Dundee to be exact - for a little over 4 weeks and that was enough. I was meant to stay longer, but thankfully there were not many students left so I was able to go home early. Scotland is a beautiful place, so green and clean, but the weather was terrible - it rained every second day and I never went outside without my jacket (which thankfully I took since I only threw it in the suitcase last minute!)

I am glad I went as teaching full time in a summer school is a tiring but educational experience in itself which is great for the CV. There were hundreds of Italian, Spanish and Turkish students from 8 - 18 years old, ranging from the beginners to proficient English speakers. I lived on campus at the university and made some new friends, did a lot of shopping and ate lots of Chinese, Thai and Indian food, but am glad to be back home, with the sun shining where the food actually has a taste. I stopped eating fruit and lots of vegetables in Scotland as they taste bland...I am very spoilt living in Italy, especially here in Malito as a lot of our fruit and veg is home grown and the rest is bought from a local mobile shop (a.k.a a truck which comes a few times a week.)

So now I am on holidays for the next 6 weeks so will be updating my blog as I have wedding updates, Malito updates, a few pictures of Scottish castles to share, and LOTS of other news.

Blogging break

2010-06-22T21:04:00.002+02:00

There has been so much going on as of late that I have not had the time to write...and saying that I am soon to head off to Scotland for about 6 weeks and won't return till mid August....so so long, farewell and I'll write when I am back.

Another one of my favourite things

2010-06-13T23:18:00.001+02:00

The bel fidanzato and I just got back from a weekend in Sorrento - the place we lived last year...a lovely place location wise but sadly that is all that is lovely about it. Saying that - if you like risking your life trying to walk along the main road which has WAY too much traffic and hardly any footpath so that you have to pray not to get hit by a scooter, or tour bus - then it would not be too bad a place for you to visit. If a weekend away brings up thoughts of walking hand in hand with the love of your life whilst breathing in fumes from the traffic then this place is highly recommended, and if you want to pay excessively high prices for the most disgusting coffee you've ever tasted then look no further than Sorrento. (If you hadn't guessed we are SO happy to be living in Malito and NOT Sorrento.)

So, I do love getting away - even if it is only for a day trip - or better still a short weekend break....so this leads me to another one of my favourite things - travelling!

I have been very lucky travel wise and have pretty much covered every country in Western Europe...depending on which Western Europe list your using (and there are a lot of them) I'm just missing Luxembourg (seems to be on most lists so we'll count that as one country I've got to see) Malta (only mentioned on 1 list that I came across so I won't class it as Western Europe) Iceland (only on one list I came across...sorry but it surely cannot be classed as Western Europe!) Wales (mmm...some lists leave out the UK altogether but if you include it in Western Europe then I'm just missing Wales,) Denmark (on a few lists, but not them all so let's just ignore that one) Norway (only on a few lists) Finland (hardly ever listed and like the previous 2 countries not really Western Europe if you ask me!) and if you want to include these little micro states; San Marino (hardly ever listed), Monaco (often listed), Andorra (often listed), and Liechtenstein (always listed).

So getting back to the point - one of my favourite things is to travel and I love travelling with my bel fidanzato. We are trying to be good and save a lot of money as we are due to get the roof on our old country house replaced this week, so for the time being our breaks will most probably be restricted to Italy but hey - what on earth is bad about that!

We've had a friend visiting from the Uk this week so have been out and about playing tour guide. We went to Tropea which is south from us and a beautiful, beautiful little town on the sea - a MUST when you come to Calabria.

Afterwards we stopped for a night cap (a.k.a a tartufo - the famous ice-cream from Pizzo)

i got this photo here

We drove up to La Sila (above) - the gorgeous mountain ranges not far from us at all - it's so nice and cool up there since it's getting hot down here in Calabria.

i got this photo from here

Fiumefreddo is also a little town on the coast that all tourist in Calabria should visit.

And last but by no means least we went and had an after dinner drink and stroll around Vecchia Cosenza - the old town is SO beautiful and so close to us!
I got this photo here

Of course I never took my camera out...so I'll be going back with our camera to take my own photos!

Another one of my favourite things

2010-06-09T22:51:00.001+02:00

One of my most recent favourite things is planning my wedding. I say recent as we only got engaged in December last year, and I only really started making plans in the last month when we finally set the date for next year.

I am thinking of getting my wedding dress made as the majority of them over here in Italy are big, poofy, elaborate numbers, which I don't really want. Most probably if I go hunting around I can find a simple dress, but not what I have in mind. I will admit that I do like poofy, but I am thinking that I would like to have a tea length, 1950s inspired dress. Here are some of my ideas:

I would also like a fascinator/veil rather than an actual veil. My twin sister had a nice one for her wedding which I may borrow, or maybe I'll just borrow her netting part and buy the clip myself. Here are some of my hair piece ideas:

Another one of my favourite things

2010-06-06T23:06:00.001+02:00

This baby is not only the most beautiful baby in the whole world, but he also happens to be my nephew - my twin sisters baby. When I was in Australia last January-March I found out that my twin was pregnant with this little bubby. I then went back to Australia last November to meet him!

It is very sad that Australia is so far away and I can't see this face everyday, but I see him on skype and he is coming over for my wedding next year and will even be one of my page boys!

The first of my 10 favourite things

2010-06-04T20:35:00.001+02:00

I have been given an award:

Sarah Elizabeth from her self titled blog awarded me this. Hers is a blog I stumbled upon by chance, and I am glad I did as it has fast become one of my favourites. She like me is a foreigner living in Italy (she is Scottish) she too is engaged to a lovely Italian, she too is in the midst of planning her wedding, she too is renovating an old house and she too teaches English. If I hadn't only recently stumbled across her blog I would say she was a stalker copying me or something!

The rules of this award are:

Thanks the award giver (thanks Sarah Elizabeth!)

List 10 things that make you happy,

Pass this award onto 5 others.

I am going to pass this award onto: (please not the winners of my award you don't have to participate and pass it on etc...if you don't want to.)

1. Michelle from Bleeding Espresso as hers is the first blog I ever stumbled upon and got hooked too...and she too is a foreigner living in Calabria with her own bel fidanzato.

2. Cherrye from My Bella Vita who like Michelle is also a foreigner living in Calabria and married to her bel fidanzato.

3. Laura from Ciao Amalfi who is a foreigner living on the Amalfi coast, and also living with her bel fidanzato.

4. Scintilla from Bell'Avventura who is an Australian/Italian (like me) married to an Italian (almost like me) living between Luxembourg and Positano.

May I add that I have met all the above mentioned ladies!

5 Lulu from Calabrisella Mia whom I have not YET met, but hope to meet soon. She is a soon-to-be expat in Italy and her fathers village is just over the valley from Malito. I have a clear view of it from my balcony all the time!

Ok, so now I have to write 10 things that make me happy, but like Sarah Elizabeth I am going to break this up into different posts as I have a lot to make me happy!

The first thing is:

My bel fidanzato

You can read about my move to Italy here which is a 5 part series! I mention how we met and all that...but I have to say the my lovely Giuseppe is the most wonderful person in the world and I am so happy that we met, got on, got together and soon will get married.

Renovating a country house

2010-06-02T22:49:00.002+02:00

Work is going to begin on our beautiful old school, country house in a few weeks! it is very exciting. Our friend, an engineer is working on the plan at the moment. The house is very big and needs a lot of work done but we are starting with the most important thing - replacing the entire roof. I am no roof expert but I think they are going to try and keep all of the old roof tiles as I am no fan of the fake looking ones you see in the countryside. The job should take about 1 month, so it'll be only half done when I leave for Scotland.

These are some photos of the house. I'll explain the set up of the house when I take some more photos as it is one big house divided into 2 houses, one half in an ok condition, the other half has dirt floors still. We are going to do the entire roof as a little water enters when it rains, and we run the risk of damage being caused. Once the roof is up bel fidanzato and I will see if we can do some inside work ourselves - maybe chipping away at some interior walls or something. We don't have all the money needed to renovate the entire house - it'll be a work in progress for many years...but hopefully next year we may be able to restore the basic rooms we need to live there. We are also keeping our fingers crossed that we can leave the exterior as it is. It may look run-down to you but that's one of the things I love about the house - the old original stones which are visible on the walls!

Below: The stairs you see lead up to the first floor which may become an entrance...or maybe not. Below the stairs is the ground floor which you will find the cantina, a big room where the goats currently live (not my goats, but I'll happily take over ownership of them if we can,) the outdoor courtyard, wood oven, and some other rooms which could be used for a garage or storage.

This photo is few years old, but you can see all of our land behind me and also you can see the bees which are kept on the land every year. I am not sure the exact measurements of the land but it's massive...lots of room for many donkeys to come and live with us!

Sicilian Summer - Book Review

2010-06-01T20:52:00.000+02:00

It was my birthday last December when the bel fidanzato and I were in Melbourne. My brother bought me a book 'Siclian Summer' since he knows that I lived in Sicily - he came to Taormina to find me after all, and he also knows I love all things Italian. I wanted to save this book for a while so only opened it up a few weeks ago, after returning from my own weekend in Sicily.

The novel is written by Brian Johnston who is an "...Irishman born in Nigeria and raised in Switzerland..." who now calls himself Australian, currently living in Sydney!

Brian, a travel writer and food enthusiast is invited to Sicily by his Italian turned American turned Australian friend. She has been asked to be sponsor at her god daughters confirmation - and that thought alone led me to believe there would be many an issue as from my experience, confirmations in Italy never run smoothly.

The back of the book says "...Irresistible and delicious, this multifaceted travelogue delves deep into summer in Sicily—complete with all the passion, power, politics, and pasta of the Italian island. After accepting an invitation to attend a confirmation in Sicily, author Brian Johnston naively expects little more than the chance to immerse himself in genuine southern Italian hospitality and, of course, the vibrant tastes, smells, flavors, and rituals of Sicilian food. What Johnston encounters and describes is flamboyant family drama, dangerous village politics, and eccentric local personalities—all while painting a fascinating picture of contemporary Italy..."

I could not sum up the book better if I tried (so I didn't bother myself.) It is rare that I read a book from front to back without skipping any pages. I will admit that I did skip a few pages here and there, but that was because he writes about the history of a lot of Sicilian towns he visits. Interesting - yes - if you have not been to these places, or don't know anything about them...but having lived in Sicily and visited most of the towns mentioned, I tended to skim read these paragraphs. (Hey - I worked for a travel company and had to tell customers all about these places so you can understand that I wanted to skip those bits!) The book is easy to read, not at all boring and delves into peoples personal lives but in a relatively light hearted way. He writes in a down-to-earth way, and he has a talent for describing the village folk without making them into over-the-top.

If you have a chance to read this book, especially if you have been or are planning to go to Sicily then I would definitely recommend it.