Real Estate?

It seems as though the big business here is real estate; that is, every fourth shop or so is a real estate brokerage firm.  It's always fun to look at the pictures and try to figure out where the buildings are actually located (when they're intown properties, of course).

I have to laugh, though, at some of the items that are put up for sale:

Does this, or does this not look like something that needs to be pulled down?  Yet it's described as a house of about 400 square meters (how can one measure this?) "in need of restoration" -- how could they tell that a little restoration might be required?









And another:

This one is described as a "portion" of a "sky to ground" (coveted because it's not a condo situation) property.  They further describe the rooms: on the ground floor, a cellar and two storerooms.  On the first floor, you have a a kitchen and bathroom, and on the second floor can be found (oh, really?) a bedroom and study.

There are three categories of property: "ristrutturato", "abitabile", and "da ristrutturare".  "Ristrutturato" means that at some point in the last 20-30 years the building has been somewhat stabilized, wiring and heating have been installed, and the bathrooms have been tiled.  "Abitabile" means that it is technically livable: wiring dates to the days of Edison, there may be leaks in the roof (but there will be a roof, which is some comfort), it is quite possible that there is no heating, and the plumbing dates back to the Etruscan period.  "Da ristrutturare" means that it has been used as a pigeon breeding ground for 20-30 years and it is knee deep in droppings -- not to mention the holes in the walls, possible lack of roof, etc.

Thought you'd enjoy seeing a different approach to building sales...

Love,

Alexandra

Field Trip

The other day I went on a field trip. I had fun, but three out of four meals were pasta. The first remarkable thing about the field trip was I made a good impression of an idiot, because I turned up at school, when I was supposed to be down by Consolazione. Then I wasn't properly equipped because I had not understood what we needed. Then I proceeded to leave my umbrella at the hotel when it was raining.Then I continued to look like an idiot because I didn't have money with me, so I couldn't buy a poncho, so I got wet while going from umbrella to umbrella. My excuse was I was talking to people; in reality, I just like being in the rain. Then I took off my sweater, which doesn't sound like that big of a deal, but every single other person was wearing a heavy jacket (I took it off because it starts to smell like a sheep when it is wet). Then I looked too old because I ate politely (actually the others did to, they just didn't use a knife). Then I went to bed just after we got to the hotel. My room was a social gathering point after I had changed into my PJs, and when I went to sleep there was a boy still in my room. I made another impression of being slightly, well, off my rocker, by not having chocolate with breakfast (I couldn't find any). All of my classmates think that I am anorexic already, because I don't usually eat at school.

However, that is just social standards. When I got to the bus, I climbed on, and I sat in the last seat on the bus (except for one, which I didn't see). Then we started off. We rode the bus for about two hours. I had gotten up early to get ready for the field trip, so I was tired, but it isn't the thing to sleep in public. The only people who were talking were the rowdies in the back. After two hours of keeping myself awake, we arrived at the hotel. It was a nice hotel (3 stars). We dropped our bags and went out to tour a church. Sadly, very few people knew how to behave. We were then told to traipse around town until twelve o'clock. We did, and I got wet. I had to explain that I am NOT made of sugar several times. At least at lunch I impressed my table mates by using my knife. Then we went out to the middle of nowhere (mezzo di niente) and we were sent on a scavenger hunt. We were given teams, a map, a compass and a pen. Each clue had two letters on it to copy down to prove that you had seen the clue. Because of friends, each team ended up calling the others to see if they had found the clues, and to copy the letters from the other team. It was very muddy, and only two of the six of us weren't wimps about mud (incidentally, the other girl was from my class). The guy on our team was freaking out about getting mud on the bottom of his sneakers! Then we went back to the hotel, changed out of our clothes and into new ones ( I just dried mine) and went out to dinner at the same place that we had had lunch. After dinner, I went to bed, and most of the other people had a party. The next morning, we set out on the bus to go see another town. It was bitterly cold and windy, but my skirt kept me warm. One boy commented to friend that "Americans are immortal". The reality was that I am not one for complaining about things that are my own fault, and I didn't have anything to complain about anyway. After a two hour walk, we went to have lunch (different place). After lunch, we visited  a once underground stream; now it is a large chain of sinkholes across a field. Then our tour guide gave a lecture on being prepared, but he gave it outside in the misty wind, and some people were on the bus and refused to get out. At last, we clambered into the bus, and we were on our way home. We were a little early to get on the road because the weather was not very pleasant. So, in order to kill some time, we stopped at a chocolate fabbrica (where they make chocolate).  We were told that only the people who had listened to the lecture could go in, so, naturally, the bus was evacuated in seconds. When we were back underway, our teachers put on a movie. It was (as far as I could make out) about two men trying to impress their wives, who had run away. One way to do that was to get Italy to be efficient! It was definitely a comedy. We were left at Consolazione, and I walked back home.
Ciao,
Florence

Academics

In my grade, we really aren't given much homework at all.  Instead, we must study.  And study.  One thing that is very popular among the teachers here (which I think is a very effective teaching technique) is the "interrogazione".  I'm using the Italian word, because I really can't think of one in English-- let me know if you do!  "Interrogation" seems too harsh-- it brings to my mind a blindfolded prisoner with guns aimed at him, and although the students may feel this way, I don't think it's quite the right word.  On the other hand "oral quiz" seems too light.  Let me explain.  When you hear the teacher say "giochiamo?"  ("Shall we play?") it's not a question.  She chooses at random two to four students, who must then explain all that we have studied thus far (in a manner that is essentially reciting the textbook/notes-- don't take a breath!), answer questions for comprehension, and cross-examine the other chosen ones.  At the end of it, depending on the teacher, they must either submit their bid for the grade or simply receive what the teacher thinks they're worth.  And the teachers grade hard.  It's very, very rare to get a 10 (the top score).  Usually we hear 5-8.  The subjects in which we are __________ (word, please?) vary from math to physics to philosophy to history (also in English) to science to Latin to literature.  Before you ask, my name has not yet come up, but it's only a matter of time... wish me luck!
To keep up with those of us who don't have names that like to be chosen, we also have a good number of written tests-- art history and physics last week, Latin and Italian literature this week, and science, English reading, and math next week.  Since I still don't speak Italian fluently (although I've improved a TON since the start of school), some of the teachers elect to give me simpler tests.  For example, since I'm not quite up to translating the works of Julius Caesar from Latin to Italian, I worked on verb conjugations.  However, I have had a couple that are the same-- namely the first, art history.
We've studied a variety of works in this class so far, including Brunelleschi's Dome, the formelle for the doors of the baptistry in Florence, the Spedale degli Innocenti, the Banquet of Herod by Donatello, as well as his David, St. George, and Magdalene.  (Sorry, I may not have the names 100%-- not sure exactly what they're called in English).  For the test, we were each given three of these to explain.  I had to compare the formelle of Brunelleschi and Ghiberti, describe the Spedale, and explain the atmosphere during the Italian Renaissance.  At first I looked at the empty page with dread.  I sighed and started writing... and found that I actually had a good bit to say.
Italians are not shy about sharing their grades-- it's impossible because they're all public knowledge.  The teacher reads out the list of students, telling each what they got, and there are published sheets with all of the students and their grades on them.  So I got to go through the torture of hearing the grades of the fifteen students whose last names start with A through G before hearing mine.  Drumroll.... 8!!!  I won't say I fell out of my chair, but I did have to fight the urge to jump onto the desk.  Like I said, they grade much harder here-- many of my classmates received lower grades than I did.  Up until this point I had been too busy trying to stop guessing what I would get that I wasn't able to pay that much attention to the scores being announced; however I believe that two people got 9, maybe five to seven of us got 8.  Yes, I ran out of school to tell my friend and my family!
...And now I am going to study.  Have to keep up that GPA! ;)

The Hand of Fortune

Today was the feast of San Fortunato -- the culmination of a four-day holy event.  San Fortunato is the patron saint of Todi (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fortunatus_of_Todi), and the church of San Fortunato (yes, the one directly across from our house) holds his relics.  In this case, his arm (from the hand to just short of the elbow -- encased in a silver reliquary shaped to look like the original relics -- think Wormtail after Voldemort got at him).

At 5:30, the bells of the Duomo were tolling in a very particular cadence that I'd never heard before.  It was exciting and lovely, and made me think of "...the tintinnabulation of the bells bells bells bells..." as the poem goes.  Why the Duomo?  Because, of course, as for every feast day there must be a procession.  And what better excuse than to process with the relics from the Duomo to the church of San Fortunato?

Bearing in mind that the relics usually lie in state in San Fortunato, we envisioned them being moved in the back of one of the little three-wheeled trucks that zip around town (glorified scooters) to the Duomo in preparation.  Let's hope that it was a bit more dignified, but I do wonder.

The boys were altar servers, and by the time I got to the Duomo, they were robed up from toe to smirk.  James was smirking because he got to carry one of the candles in the procession.  Jeremy was smirking because he got to carry the incense in a beautiful engraved silver boat.

As I noticed them, the Duomo contained at that time:

• A wood & glass case to hold the relics
• Three different men's groups, all in different costumes -- very caped and vested.
• Many priests with much handmade lace & embroidery (just gorgeous)
• The Archbishop
• A few tourists and some of the faithful

Outside, we had the band that we know and love, several different flags in formation for the procession, and lots of people standing with cameras at the ready.  We can't forget the mayor, resplendent in his red, white, and green sash -- and the honor guard!

And so the procession started.  With the bells and the band and the marching, we made quite a sight.  There were lots of participants in this event, and the location helped with the count of spectators.  And, yes, there were a few banners hanging in windows (just a few this time, sadly) -- burgundy.  

Instead of going up the main steps, we went around in the little alley in which I drive my car all the time (I park next to San Fortunato).  I speculated that it was to allow the men to avoid carrying the patently heavy case for the relics up the steep steps while wearing floor-length robes, but maybe it was to make the procession longer?  In any case, the band echoed charmingly in the small space. 

We went into the church to discover a crowd, including the choir (oops -- we didn't realize we were supposed to arrive at San Fortunato early if we wanted to sing; but I couldn't have anyway since I have the remains of a cold and am coughing prodigiously at the moment).  It was standing room only.  Partly because they have very few pews, but still.  The church was absolutely beautiful, with lavish floral arrangements on the altar, and some really interesting (and lovely!) flatter floor arrangements going from the entrance to the altar -- kind of grassy with flowers (gerbera daisies and other brightly colored blooms). It was the first time I'd seen this kind of decoration and floral exuberance for a feast day.  

The first order of the homecoming for the relics was to remove the silver reliquary from its wood & glass case.  The case was clearly heavy, and we waited with bated breath as four of the robed men struggled to remove it without damaging the relics, the case, or themselves (presumably in that order?).  They finally managed to move the separate parts to their individual safe havens without event, while the congregation heaved a collective sigh of relief.

The Mass was very nice and the choir sounded great.  There were no fewer than 29 priests, a couple of deacons, and a half-dozen altar servers.  I have to confess to a bit of a giggle, though, during the concluding rites: at the point where the bishop holds up his right hand/arm to bless the congregation, he held up (you may have guessed, but it was hard for me to fight the wave of laughter because it was so unexpected) -- the disembodied, silver-encased hand of San Fortunato. 

After San Francesco's (St. Francis's) essentially non-eventish feast day, this was satisfyingly full of pomp and circumstance.  I never can resist a procession, particularly when blessed by the hand of fortune...

Love,

Alexandra

I have it figured out...

At least why Italians keep in fashion. Because of the diet of pasta and pizza, it is amazing how rapidly your shirts get a red-ish hue. Because there is no room in the houses for closets, in with the new out with the old. Now, I must find the password to the never ending bank... because clothes are NOT cheap. How do they finance it without working? That is my new research project.
Ciao,
Florence

A word about bureaucracy...

...and, let's face it, it's the same the world over.

Having (finally) obtained residency for myself & all the kids, it's time to focus on Michael.  He's not able to obtain residency since he doesn't have EU citizenship.  However, he must obtain his permesso di soggiorno.

Feeling rather Italian, I inquired delicately at the embassy why he would need said permesso since he has a 1-year visa.  It turns out that the visa allows him to leave and enter the country freely, but not to stay longer than x number of days (I don't remember the number -- 14 maybe?--in any case, we were unknowingly illegally here for three months last year).  Anyway, he can be a tourist, but not actually live here. The visa is for 1 year because the embassy realizes that it can take a while (understatement of the year) to obtain the permesso. 

The rules for the permesso are that you must register at the airport (which we didn't know and consequently didn't do), then apply for the permesso at the police office of the county seat (Perugia, in our case) within 8 days.

Try putting together a Gantt chart for the following, to see what happens:

1. Register immediately at the airport.
2. Apply at the questura in Perugia:
     a) Only Monday or Thursday, and you must be there before 8:00 am because that's when they hand out twenty numbers (only) for processing on that day.  If you aren't in the lucky 20, you must come back.
     b) With the following documents:
          i) Idoneita d'Allogio, obtained from the local Tecnica office (Todi), requiring:
               a) Marca da Bolla for 14.62 euros, obtainable at any tabaccoio
               b) Fee of 25 euros, payable at the bank next door to my apartment, or at the post office
               c) Request form, which includes the apartment owner's information and signature
              d) Photocopies of documenti, usually passports
              e) An undefined waiting period to obtain, usually 7-10 days, but up to a month.
           ii) Comunicazione di Cessione di Fabbricato, obtained from the vigili (Todi, across from my apartment), requiring:
               a) A copy of the rental contract
               b) That the apartment owner has already filed said Comunicazione with the vigili -- which he or she has by right 40 days to complete
            iii) Marriage certificate with apostille -- apostille must be obtained from the country in which the marriage occurred (the apostille generally requires 10 days to obtain, but can be requested on a walk-in basis).  Bear in mind that it must be sent/mailed/delivered from said country or brought with you if you actually know about this requirement ahead of time.
      c) Within 8 days of arrival in the country

I did talk to the questura to make sure that they wouldn't put handcuffs on my honey in the middle of the night, and he laughed and said since Michael was married to an EU citizen, there wouldn't be any problem.

Makes me wonder about those who aren't?  In the meantime, I think I'll relax with a glass of wine...

Love,

Alexandra

Just an update...

Today I went to get a gelato with one of my classmates; her name is Daniela Chiper (Kiper). She is from Moldova and is here on an exchange program. If I understood her correctly (which I probably didn't) she is staying one year here, then a year in France, and finally a year in Germany. Doesn't that sound like fun? I had a good time, but it was only for a brief time because Daniela had to go and wait for the bus. Then I went home and sat around watching movies, and hanging out of the window. Some of my classmates walked by, sat around talking for a minute, then they all looked up at the same time and waved to Eleanor and me.
I am getting much better at Italian, and I am learning some French and some German. Thanks to occasional exposure to the language by Grandfather and Hans, I am one of the best at German. I think I am settling down quite nicely.
Ciao,
Florece