A Real Italian Christmas

This year represents my fourth holiday season in Italy, and tonight, Christmas Eve, is the first time I spent it with an Italian family. Many similarities, a few differences. The real joy of the evening, for me, were the 7-year-old girl and 9-year-old boy who believe in Babbo Natale (Santa Clause).

The tradition in Italy is Santa Clause arrives at mezzanotte (midnight) of Christmas Eve to bring the gifts. Christmas Day is a day to relax and have another large meal. (More food!)  No TV, no calcio (Italian soccer), and no football (American-style) is watched on the 25th.  Fat old Santa, I thought, would never fit down the chimney because the flue is pretty narrow and Santa's bacino (pelvis) is a bit wide.  It turns out, Santa rang the doorbell at right about midnight. Babbo Natale arrived with armfuls of gifts.  The little girl is rather furba (clever, smart, sharp), and she immediately called Babbo Natale on it.  "E'  babbo!"  (It's Dad!)  "It's Dad's face, Dad's shoes!"  And then she commented, "Your belt is made of paper.  It's not a real belt."

I do not know if these kids believe in Santa or have already learned how to play the game, but all those doubts about Babbo Natale were soon replaced with the excitement of the gifts.  Just like everywhere, the wrappings and ribbons did not last long while the children clawed to get at the hidden treasures.

Meanwhile, the evening proceeded.  Good food was prepared and eaten.  Lots of Italian was spoken.  I tried to keep up.  I even tried to joke in Italian. Everyone said my Italian is very good.  I believed none of them until Andrea, the 9-year-old, piped in and said, "E' vero" (It's true). For me, the ultimate compliment is for a child to tell me my Italian is excellent. Finally, I believe and accept that my Italian just might be better than I think. I value kids' opinions (especially in this regard) because kids are usually straight up. I have often wondered what do children not necessarily old enough to "understand" that Italian is my second language think when they encounter someone like me.  It was the way Andrea piped up with "E' vero" that convinced me.  It was as if he knew better than anyone else, and his compliment was not patronizing like often the adults who say I speak well might be.  My Christmas present.

After the festivities -- the food, the conversations, the smiles, and the gifts -- I descended the 89 steps back to the street with a belly overstuffed from too much indulgence, where, to my surprise, I saw many people out on the street with perhaps no real purpose but to amble about with everyone else.  And then it hit me.  Inside or outside, everyone was with someone...even if they were with everyone.  During my short walk home, I overheard many kids speaking with their parents about Babbo Natale and observed the knowing smiles of their parents as they replied.  A few winks here and there, and I finally understood.  English is my mother tongue; Italian, my adopted language.  But universal is people.  Even if we do not speak the other person's language well or at all, we still (can) communicate.

The kids taught me that. Christmas suddenly took on a new meaning.  A fun evening to see it through the eyes of young children and their parents. And what presents I received!

Merry Christmas

-- Giosalina 
    Firenze, Italia

La Befana and Gregorian Chant Concert

Today is another religious holiday and officially marks the end of the Christmas season.  The holiday is Epiphany.  In Italy, the holiday is known as La Befana. The witch with a bag of coal will grace some of us if we've been bad in the past year; otherwise, we receive some little gifts of goodies. I am happy to move on and forward into 2012. 

Next Monday most businesses and schools will resume their regular work hours. But today is definitely a holiday here, which means the streets are extra crowded with people.  While out for our morning walk, Mabel and I had to work our way around what felt like a gauntlet of baby buggies drag racing. There is an abundance of strollers out there today.  Do not think speed, however; I place emphasis on the word "drag" as opposed to "race."

A View of Florence from Above

San Miniato al Monte

Up the hill and overlooking Florence at Piazzale Michelangelo is the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte where there is a special Gregorian chant concert in honor of the holiday.  I will learn later that the information previously emailed to me provided the incorrect time for the Gregorian chant; and it will turn out that my friend and I will arrive at the church as the chanting is nearly complete.  We will have enjoyed only some of the chanting but much of the art in this church -- from the painted wood beam ceilings to the paintings and freschi on the walls, the sculptured tombs, and the zodiac mosaic floor, as well as the always breathtaking views from above the city.

Speaking of breathtaking, no more bated breath waiting for the onslaught of tourists to abate, I can resume normal breathing as the holiday season is officially over and things go back to normal.  


New year/new beginnings.

Dark Days, Light Heart

We are only a few days away from the winter solstice, the darkest time of the year, which also means we are well into the holiday season.  In America, the Christmas holiday season officially begins with Black Friday, the day following Thanksgiving, and that offers sales galore for shoppers.  In Italy, the Christmas season officially begins the day of Immaculate Conception, December 8. The streets are lit with Christmas lights and decorations. Christmas festivals fill piazzas. Stores here also are busy with holiday shoppers.  The hustle-bustle of the holiday season has taken hold.


This time of year can be emotionally challenging and stressful for many of us. Many people can grow disconsolate, even despondent.  I am one. I find the holiday season to be especially trying, as my family and long-standing friends are scattered around the world with the greater majority in California.  I am in Florence, Italy.  My newer friends here have mostly all returned to their "homes" wherever those might be. An Italian family has yet to adopt me.  As a result, this time of year can feel very dark, just like the winter solstice.


In a time of gift-giving and romance and great cheer and spirits, it is unnerving to be alone and apart no matter how beautiful and memorable your surrounding environment.  Florence is that beautiful and memorable.  The choice is clear, even stark:  We can focus on what we do not have or lack rather than what we do have. 


I choose to be grateful for what I do have this season.  Though my situation is not exactly how I envisioned it would be this year at this age, I make the most of what it is.  In addition to my general good health is where I live.  And I have work.  I moan and whine about having to work. (At my core, I am a lazy slug.)  But having work not only earns some money, it keeps me involved in my career and it makes me accountable to someone somewhere and helps keep me out of trouble.  I have people in my life that matter to me, and I know I matter to my family and friends.  This year I stick to my routines and rituals, which ebb and flow. However, the last couple months I am in the flow.  It feels good to do some of the things that support my emotional, physical, and spiritual health.


In only a few days we will be on the other side of the solstice, and the days will begin to get lighter and brighter and so will the spirit.  During some of the down time during the holidays, I make it a practice to reflect on the year now past and map out where I want to go and what I want to accomplish for the year ahead.  I note my specific and clear intentions on paper.  I look forward to that project, which requires my attention and diligence and is positive in direction and result.


What holiday / year end / new year rituals and practices do you engage in?

Poinsettia

A flower associated with Christmas in many parts of the world, its origin is Mexico and was first introduced to the United States by the former U.S. ambassador of the U.S. to Mexico, Dr. Joel Roberts Poinsett, in 1825.  The flower is known as Poinsettia in America, Stella di Natale (Christmas Star) in Italy, Noche Buona (Christmas Eve) in Mexico and Guatemala, Flor de Pasqua (Easter Flower) in Spain, Crown of the Andes in Chile and Peru, Atatürk çiçeği (Flower of Atatürk) in Turkey, Αλεξανδρινό (Alexandrinò) in Greece, and Lalupatae, Winter Rose, and Mexican Flame Leaf.

Wishing you

Peace in your heart

Peace in your home

Peace on earth

All the best in 2011

How I spent Christmas Eve

A picture tells a thousand words, and this blurry photo best describes Christmas Eve. Words like movement, energetic, chaotic, kinetic, conductive, dramatic are a few that come to my mind.  Let me try to explain.

It is Christmas Eve. We are three American women. Being in Italy, we invite an Italian man. He is brave because more than just American, we are all empowered California women. Sasha (photo) is our host. Her monolocali studio apartment is the scene. Her entire kitchen is what you see in the photo. Two electric burners with not enough space between the burners to use both at the same time if the pot is too large and about six inches of counter space and a sink. Basta and nothing more. The apartment is not designed to throw five-course dinner parties for more than two people. For those of you who do not know, you cannot blow dry your hair and run the washing machine at the same time without blowing a fuse.

Sasha is a chef and famous baker. Watching her cook is like watching a symphony conductor. With passion and emotion, she creates what she wants, what she sees in her mind.

The table is decorated creatively, with typical Italian food ingredients: a bouquet of Italian parsley, plum tomatoes on the vine and lemons that divide the eating places and more including votive candles, and bottles of cracked pepper serve as candle holders for the stick candles. Resourceful. Antipasto and crostini are served and next homemade ravioli stuffed with ricotta cheese and lemon in a sage-butter sauce is our primo piatto. Oops! The electricity goes out. By candlelight Sasha prepares a salad of Belgian endive, radicchio, fennel, and Gorgonzola cheese. Eventually, the proprietor returns from his Christmas Eve dinner to turn on the power. While preparing the mussels and clams to open in water to be added to the garlic-tomato-red wine sauce and fresh pasta, the electricity goes out again. Without electrical power the rest of the night, somehow dinner miraculously comes together. And of course, there is dessert and coffee and a digestivo. Every bite is delicious.

Such a small space -- if you need to pass another, everyone has to file out of the way -- with no counter space, losing main ingredients, losing electricity twice, having the Duomo "crazy" church bells peal every 15 minutes so loud we cannot hear each other, there are many obstacles to overcome. It is difficult to paint the picture of what it is like, but it is crazy!

We overcome all the obstacles. Without electrical energy, there was plenty of electricity and energy amongst us.  It is a special Christmas Eve dinner. We are together. No one is alone. We laugh. We share. We make new memories. We agree that this Christmas Eve is unlike any other any of us has ever had, and that no one of us will ever forget.
-- Josslyn / 'Giosalina'
Florence, Italy

La Vigilia di Natale (Christmas Eve)

Most people who spend more than a little time in Florence know it is very difficult to make true friendships with the Fiorentini ("Florentines"). It can be lonely and isolating for those of us who want to integrate.  Not only do people from faraway lands experience this but also other Italians who are not 100% Florentine. There are several reasons this is true; however, it does not take away from the fact that I love Florence and the Florentines. And not only that, I tend to be a persistent person. With time, I am pretty confident I will break through that centuries-old, fortified Florentine barrier.

Meanwhile, I have been living here about one week shy of three months. In that time I have gotten to know many of my local shopkeepers and vendors and artisans.

It is Christmas Eve. The stores are busy with people buying the last few gifts and food for the big feasts that will commence tonight and continue the next couple days. People are full of joy and in the spirit of the season. The holiday stress we experience in the States also exists here, but the Fiorentini handle it differently. I have witnessed the folks in the streets, in the piazzas, in the stores, and I see how genuinely happy people are, as they wish each other happy holidays and exchange kisses. Many pop their heads inside a store only for the purpose of expressing happy holidays and a kiss on each check.

I may not yet be Fiorentina, but I, too, have experienced some of those genuine wishes and kisses, and it makes me feel almost accepted as "one of them."

P.S. I still feel this is where I belong.

Tanti Auguri di Buone Feste!

Click on the photo of the Christmas tree to see which Italian Christmas ornaments were used to decorate.

-- Josslyn 'Giosalina'
Florence, Italy