Not too much has been going on here, I’ll just update with the interesting things that have happened recently (interesting to me, at least!).
The letter bombings here seem to have tapered off (at least for now). The political situation in Africa and the Middle East (Tunisia, Egypt, and Jordan) probably won’t have too much of an effect on us. There may be some demonstrations of some sort, but demonstrations of one sort or another happen about as often here as road construction back in the states. As long as we stay aware of what’s going on and where the demonstrations are occurring, it doesn’t seem to be a big deal to avoid those areas.
I got pulled over a couple of days ago. We live on a one way street, and for the last couple of weeks there have been Municipal Police parked on the side of the road flagging random people down and checking documentation. I got flagged down. I was a little freaked out about it, and had a bit of a blond moment; there are a few things that (as a foreigner) we’re required to carry with us: our U.S. driver’s license, an Italian translation of our U.S. driver’s license, an insurance card, and our MFA card (the MFA card is an official Italian document identifying us as officially being affiliated with the U.S. and negating the need to carry our passports wherever we go). I handed him the Italian translation of my driver’s license, then remembered that I’m supposed to give him the MFA card first… so I gave him my MFA card, then pulled out my U.S. driver’s license and handed it to him, then reached over and grabbed the insurance card (which we happened to have received in the mail that day). By the time I handed him the insurance card, he wouldn’t even take it from me; while I was digging the insurance card out, he had decided either (a) that I had provided all the necessary information and identification, (b) that it wasn’t worth any more effort to deal with someone who leads the conversation with “Mi dispiache, solo inglese” (I’m sorry, only English) and hands over an MFA card, or (c) that he felt sorry for me and decided to let me go out of the kindness of his heart (since I hadn’t done anything wrong to start out with!). I don’t really care which of those reasons turned out to be the real reason, but one way or the other, I didn’t get a ticket.
Cori was under the weather last week; I looked at some of the orientation materials we were given when we checked in here and saw a product that I thought would help her feel better. So I drove up to the pharmacy and took a number. While I was waiting for my number to be called, I pulled out my phone and translated “upset stomach” to Italian. Google Translator translated it (“mal di stomaco”) and gave me a phrase that it thought would be helpful:”Posso avere qualcosa per il mal di stomaco e vomito?” (Can I have something for an upset stomach and vomiting?). When it was my turn, I dutifully read the translated phrase, and added “sette anno bambina” (“seven year old girl”). The pharmacist said “Allora”, “Si” (“Ok”, “yes”) and disappeared in the back. He came back out a minute or so later, and in perfect Queen’s English said “This will help your daughter’s stomach. Dissolve one pouch in about this much water” (indicating about an inch of water). Well, just color me stupid. I’ve found that (as this experience demonstrates) as long as you’re willing to make an effort at the language, the people here are willing to work quite a bit to communicate with you; if I had walked up to the counter and only been willing to speak English, I probably would have been brushed off with random Italian phrases (“No, the temperature around here has been quite dim lately, but my father’s cow has a broken steering wheel” or something like that).
I entered the chili cook-off at Becca’s office. I only entered because they just had 8 entries, and I wanted to make sure there were enough entries. All told, there ended up being 13 entries, with two of them spicy enough to remove paint - but all were quite tasty. My chili ended up winning first place. I was quite surprised, to say the least. Now I have to enter a chili next year to defend my honor.
We’re planning on spending a few days around Naples later this month when my mother in law comes to town; we’re planning on going out to Sorrento to revisit the scene of my accident. I think I’ve come to grips with it now… it’s on the right side, so I don’t have to see the scrape every time I get in and out of the car!
That’s all that’s been going on here… sorry for the delay on the post!
