One of the most commonly asked questions I get around the holidays is “do Americans really eat those big turkeys like you see in the American films?”. Of course I answer with an enthusiastic “yes!” because to me there is nothing like the holidays in America.

Doesn't It Smell Delish

For me it all starts with the first sighting of cranberry sauce and pumpkin puree on the end caps of the nearest grocery store. The sight alone heightens my senses to all of the sights and sounds around me…suddenly I’m that little girl from Atlantic City again. Oh how I love the holidays!

When I moved to Italy in 2007 it was my first and only time outside of America for the holidays. Although I did spend a nice Christmas with my parents and some relatives, it didn’t feel like the holiday’s. It was Thanksgiving that was missing, that definitive start of the holiday season.

My yen to experience the holiday’s that I am accustomed to took me to America in 2008, just days before Thanksgiving. The days leading up to my departure my friends became more and more curious about this American tradition, and I decided the best thing to do was have a Thanksgiving in Italy.

Now for those of you who have never experienced Italy I need to tell you that finding the staples of a traditional American anything is nearly impossible. Aware of the obstacles, I began planning this event mid summer, 2009. I had supplies of cranberry sauce brought in from Rome, pumpkin puree sent to me from America, and turkey and sausage on order. Some of my friends, the ones really in love with the idea of America, went so far as to order “Stars and Stripes” theme plates, napkins, table clothes, and other decorations. They were so enthusiastic that I didn’t have the heart to tell them that they had actually ordered Fourth of July decorations.

Thanksgiving Meets 4rth of July

After much planning and preparation the day came to share this American tradition with friends. More than 15 of us sat around a huge table, and after each of us shared what we were grateful for, we ate. Everything was perfect and everyone really seemed to enjoy themselves.  For me, having celebrated Thanksgiving forty times before, I didn’t expect this to anything special…but I was wrong.  This actually turned out to be a Thanksgiving I will never forget because it gave me the opportunity to experience an American tradition through the eyes of an Italian, and to remember what this celebration is really about.  Thanks to this very special Thanksgiving I realized that without the opportunity to make the choices I’ve made, or without the possibility to change my life so drastically, I might have never really understood how blessed I truly am.  For that, I am grateful!

Wanting to stick to my “Best of 2009″ theme I thought it was time to share  another one of my ‘first time ever’ moments…picking olives. I had thought  about doing this in 2008 but allowed my fears to deter me. Fears like “what if  I feel sick” or, “what if I can’t keep up” or, “what if I have to pee”. Silly, I know,  but silly or not these thoughts caused me major anxiety, and that anxiety  held me prisoner.

I don’t know how, but in 2009 I had a new sense of self and decided to go for  it. I guess the Cattle Drive helped with working through anxiety. Being in the  middle of nowhere leaves you no choice but to suck it up and deal  with things  as they come. So with this ‘balls to the wall’ attitude I agreed to      help my  friends.

The days began way earlier then what I’m used to but of course I found the silver lining in that. You see, eating is a big part of this olive picking tradition, so of course there was an early morning snack prepared for us worker bees. What was it you ask…a panino made with hot Italian sausage (homemade of course), roasted sweet peppers, and the sharpest Italian cheese you can find!

After eating like that it’s a little difficult to just pick up and get back into the groove, but I did, after all I had to keep up with  the pros. Nets were being laid out, olives were being picked, nets were being moved, more olives were being picked, nets filled  with olives were emptied into sacks, and the process just continued.

The days were long and the work was hard. Thank goodness the Italians can’t do anything without food being involved or I  would have never made it past day one. Lunch was always a feast that lasted at least an hour and a half. We would set up our  makeshift table with meats, cheeses, peppers, tomatoes, and fried baccala. Bread, wine, and espresso accompanied these f  feasts, and enjoying all of this out in the fresh country air makes it all taste so much better.

At the end of every day, after packing up, we would drive the olives to the … There we would unload the olives to have them weighed and ultimately be processed at the local “frantoio”. This is where the magic happens!

Step 1: Grinding the olives

Take a closer look...but don't fall in!

Step 2: Layering the press disks with olive paste

Step 3: Olive press

Can you imagine how many olives it took to produce those few drops?

Step 4: Start filling your bottles

All in all this was another memorable experience of my ‘life Italian’. Despite the long days and the hard work there was a silver lining. The weather was perfect, the company was great, the food was delicious, and the work was satisfying. I’m definitely chalking this up to another amazing experience in the Bel Paese. What more could a girl ask for?

There are many things that I am good at, if I do say so myself, but one of the things I am *best* at is eating.  I love to eat.  I love food.  I love all kinds of food.  I especially love food that I don’t have to cook myself.  Everyone who knows me well knows this to be true.  I don’t cook.  It’s not that I can’t cook, at least I don’t think so, it’s just that I don’t like to cook.  Let’s face it, I am one person…eternally single…what’s the point of cooking for one.  It’s not like cooking for one is easier or takes less time, hell, you still have the same about of pots and pans to clean at the end of it all.  Now if I didn’t have to be responsible for everything that goes into cooking a meal, ie. shopping, prepping, cooking, tasting, eating, cleaning…maybe then I would find it more enticing.

In America it was very easy to get by without cooking.  I went out to lunch and dinner every day.  Sure it was expensive, but it was also easy…and I’m all about easy.  Now here in Italy it’s quite a bit different.  Here, if I want to eat out it isn’t just a quick trip down the block to a diner or Chinese take-out.  Here I eat mostly at my parents or the local pizzeria.  Life here is like that for everyone…it’s normal.  So I thought “what’s a girl to do” and in pondering that I came up with this great idea.  I decided that since I have a nice house outside of the village I would put out the idea of having a dinner at my house.  Of course, after three years of being in the village everyone already here knows as well that I don’t cook.  But being the great friends that they are they agreed that we would all take part in the planning, shopping, preparing, cooking, tasting, and eating this great meal.

As with all Italian meals pasta was involved, so ours started looked a little like this…Making the pasta, in this case, Cavatelli.

And just to prove that I’m not totally useless in the kitchen I have this shot of me helping out my friends.  Check out that style!

Those Cavatelli were going to be a small part of our meal…did I mention that this meal was all based in seafood?  Well it was.

So at the end of this community effort we were all ready to dig in to the fruit’s of our labor.  The menu included a starter of Insalata di Polpo, a first course of Cavatelli alla Pescatrice, a second of Fried Baccala, followed by my very own, home grown figs.

Following such a wonderful meal with friends I couldn’t help but feel anything but blessed.  Here I am, an American girl who never ever learned to enjoy food the way the Italians do.  I found myself here, in the village, surrounded by wonderful people who have accepted me (and my ways) and instead of judging me they take me in and teach me.  I am a very lucky girl indeed.

Living in Italy has given me the opportunity to experience things that I never imagined.  Some experiences were awesome, while others, not so much!  One of those *not so great* experiences occurred on a day like any other.  It started out as a typical summer, Sunday afternoon.  It also happened to be during the “Tour De France” and a “Formula 1″ race day which meant the usual day to day routine at my parents house was altered a bit.  My usual Sunday here in Italy would go a little like this.  I would wake up later than usual, do a little cleaning, shower, and then head over to my favorite bar for an aperitivo with friends before heading to my parents house for Sunday dinner.  On Formula 1 race days, I would stay after dinner to watch the race with my dad, otherwise after dinner I would head out to do whatever I had planned for the day and my father would head over to the farm and stay there until the sun went down.  But when you couple Formula 1 with the Tour De France my father becomes a true couch potato…and thank God for that!

On this day, after watching Ferrari lose *again*, I decided to get out and take a drive of my own.  I left my parents house and drove up the mountain.  About 10 minutes after leaving the house I noticed a missed call from my dad.  I tried to call him back but reception in these parts is always sketchy so I drove towards the bar where I knew I could get a good signal.  As I got out of my car to go get a coffee and call my dad I received another call from my dad.  This time I was able to answer but all I heard was fear.  ”Come home” he cried, “Mommy fell!”.  Hearing my dad cry while referring to my mom as ‘mommy’ was enough to put me in panic mode, but somehow I remained calm.  ”What?”  I said, “did you call the ambulance?”  He responded with a “yes, they are on their way!”  Before turning to head back to my car I was able to tell a friend who was standing outside of the bar that if an ambulance past they needed to be directed to my parents house.  The 45 seconds it took me to get to the house seemed like forever.  Seeing the crowd of people standing outside, watching and whispering, made me want to runaway.  Instead, I pushed through the panic and made my way to my mom.

On the landing between 2nd and 3rd floors my mom laid in a pool of blood.  Her eyes open but vacant.  She just stared off as I spoke to her, as if her words were trapped in her mind.  People were coming in and out of the house.  Neighbors who were first to respond to my dad’s cry for help were keeping the onlookers at bay.  Some had made a human trail from the Piazza to the house to assist the EMT’s in finding us.  It was horrifying yet amazing at the same time.  Finally, help arrived.   At that point I can’t even recall how things went…I was completely detached.  My defense mechanisms had kicked into high gear, and probably for the best.  My mom was triaged in the tiny 2 foot x 2 foot area that she lay in, then out of the house by stretcher.  I can not forget the scene of my mom being taken down the road by stretcher to the ambulance parked in the piazza.  It was surreal.

My dad and I arrived at the hospital right behind the ambulance.  We saw when my mother was taken into the hospital that she appeared to be alert, and somewhat more oriented.  It was a relief for us.  They took my mother back to be evaluated and we were told that no one could be with her and it would be at least a couple of hours before we would know anything.  We waited, and waited, and waited.  Finally, we were told that due to the severity of my mothers head injury she would need to be transferred to another hospital, a one hour drive away.  It was midnight when we finally saw my mother again.  She was awake but had no memory of what happened.  She was also in a lot of pain due to a dislocated shoulder that the doctors did not want to re-set until they were clear on the extent of her head injury.  We left my mother as she was being put back into the ambulance to be transported to the other hospital and didn’t see her again until the following day.

From that day on my father and I traveled to the hospital every day to visit with my mother and the doctors.  MRI’s, CAT Scans, X-Rays, and blood tests became a part of her daily routine.  Finally, after 13 days, we were told that the head injury was healing and all hemorrhaging had stopped, and was slowly being absorbed.  My mother’s shoulder, unfortunately, did’t fare so well.  It seems as though the wrong brace was used by the first hospital prior to transporting her to the second hospital.  For the 13 days that it took to clear her head injury, her shoulder remained dis-located and began to heal that way.  When she was finally cleared to see the orthopedist, it was too late, her shoulder had already began to set.  A small price to pay for life.

Overall, this whole experience was physically, emotionally, and mentally draining for my mother, my father, and myself  yet somehow we’ve all come out of this stronger, and most importantly, closer.  It is experiences like this that give true significance to the saying ‘every grey cloud has a silver lining’…we just need to be willing to see it.

It was something I’d always wanted to do so 2009 was my year to make it happen.  What is it you ask?  A cattle drive…Italian style!  That’s right, 5 days, 4 nights, 3 regions.  We started in Apricena, Puglia with 125 cows, 55 horses, and more cowboys than I could count.  With the mission clearly laid out before us the driving began.  First stop, San Paolo Civitate, Puglia.   Although there were only 18.5 km between the two cities the driving took over 5 hours.  Who knew cows could be so difficult?

That first day was tough but well worth it.  I never imagined the amount of work that went into moving cattle.  There are the drivers on horseback and those who go by foot.  Then there are the people whose jobs are to breakdown and clean the departure campsite only to transport everything to next campsite and have it ready for when the drive ends for the day.  Finally, there are a whole other group that are responsible to drive back and forth between the two sites in order to bring all of the horse trailers and other vehicles.  Then it’s time to kick back, enjoy some wine, and wait eagerly for some chow.

By the time 3 pm rolls around bellies are full and you begin to see a lot of this…even the cows are exhausted.

Since this was a first time for a lot of us we wanted to celebrate our accomplishments…until 2:30 am!  Trust me, after that night our energy stores were bankrupt and it was just hard work for the rest of the drive.

Day 2 and every day thereafter began with a 4 am wake-up call.  This consisted of a cowboy on horseback with a cow bell yelling “SVEGLIA!  SVEGLIA!”  I have to admit that first morning was terrible considering I had only 2 hours of sleep, but on the other hand it was the most incredible sight to see, old fashioned cattle driving, Italian style!

The drive continued like this from day to day.  Our stop on Day 2 was Ururi, Puglia, Day 3 was Palata, Molise, Day 4 was Montefalcone Nel Sannio, Molise, and Day 5 was Castiglione Messer Marino, Abruzzo.  Finally, after 123.4 km, the cows were safely at their summer residence and the horses were off to their respective homes.  It was an experience that I will never forget and a tradition I hope to participate in again this year.  It’s been almost a year since this drive and I still can’t stop thinking about those 5 days.  The amount of strength, courage, and commitment of all those involved is awe inspiring.

My cowgirl hat is off to you all!

Tuesday, January 12^th, 2010 at 12:15 pm, I arrived at Palm Beach International Airport with my mother. We had tickets for US Airways flight # 1247.  This flight was scheduled to depart at 1:55 pm to Philadelphia, with an arrival in Philadelphia at 4:25 pm.  Following this segment of our trip was a connecting flight to Rome, Italy, on US Airways flight # 718 which had a scheduled departure time of 6:25 pm, and an arrival time of 8:55 am on Wednesday, January 13^th, 2010.   We immediately went to the US Airways check in counter to leave our baggage and get our boarding passes.  As the gentleman at the counter was checking us in he informed us that the flight to Philadelphia was delayed and was not scheduled to depart until at least 3:25 pm. I informed the gentleman I had a connecting US Airways International flight at 6:25 pm that we would miss with the delay. “NO…YOU’LL BE FINE” was his response. I did the math and thought that any further delay would definitely lead to our connecting flight to leave without us.  I explained this to the agent and he said that since it was still a US Airways flight they would know that we were delayed and not takeoff without us.  He then added that since we had scheduled a cart for assistance with my mother we “should be fine”.  So against my better judgement I waited for the delayed flight and departed for Philadelphia.  I informed ever US Airways employee that assisted us along the way that we had a connecting international flight but no one really seemed concerned.  As I expected, the flight was further delayed due to air traffic, and after circling the airport for at least 15 minutes, we missed the flight!!!!

I explained to the flight attendant that we were due on US Airways International flight # 718 and the flight attendant laughed and said “they won’t wait for two passengers”  “you missed that flight.”  What the flight attendant did do was plan for an agent to meet us at the gate to help us get re-routed.  When we finally got off of the flight from Palm Beach, an agent did meet us at the gate and informed me that we were being re-routed on a British Airways flight to London Heathrow at 9:15 pm and then we would connect to Rome on an Alitalia flight with an arrival in Rome at 3:40 pm the following day.  At that point I asked the agent if there were any other direct flights that we could take as I was travelling with my mother who is not well.  I was told that this is what was re-booked for us but since we had to go to Special Services in order to get our boarding passes they might have some other suggestions.  With that, the cart that had been pre-ordered to take my mother to our connecting flight had arrived, but instead of taking us to our flight, it took us to Special Services.

When I arrived at the Special Services desk, I explained my situation including the fact that the re-routed flights would not work for us.  Immediately, the agent demanded she “can’t do anything without even know why we missed our flight”, so she asked “why did you miss the flight?”  It was accusatory.  With that, I explained the entire story starting from our arrival at the Check-In counter at the Palm Beach International Airport.  The same story I noted above.  At that point she said that all flights were full but if necessary she could try to get us on the same flight we were originally scheduled to take but it would obviously not be until the following day.  I accepted that option as there was no way I was going to subject my mother to anything but a direct flight.  The agent began to make our new reservation but couldn’t complete anything until she could get verification on the delay of our flight out of Palm Beach International.  That took her a good while as it appeared as though no one could give her an answer and the computer system showed no issues with the flight.  After about 45 minutes she was able to complete the reservation and give us our new boarding passes for Flight 718 with a departure date of January 13th.

I then asked how we were to handle our luggage and I was told that it was already routed to London.  At this point it was not yet 9:15, which is what time the London flight was scheduled to depart, so I knew she could have it pulled from that flight and re-routed to US Airways Flight 718 the following day.  She made it very clear with both her body language and her verbal response that it would be “difficult” but she would try if she had to…and yes, she had to.  Well it took her sometime but she was able to do it.  She then handed us our new baggage claim tickets along with a voucher for the Hilton for that evening, and two $10 vouchers to cover the expense of dinner, breakfast, and lunch!  Finally, she phoned the Hilton to send the airport shuttle.  We checked in at around 10:30 pm.  Starved, we dropped off our carry-on baggage and headed directly to the only eating establishment available, a sports bar.  We ordered 1 bowl of soup,  2 sandwiches, and a soda.  Our bill came to $26 and change.  There went our meal vouchers.

Wednesday we headed back to the airport at Noon since the Hilton would not give us a late check out.  We exchanged some Euros, lost a lot in the exchange, and then went to eat.  Another meal consisting of 2 sandwiches and a soda…$23 and change.  After that we just sat for hours.  I couldn’t log onto the internet since there is no free WiFi at Philadelphia International.  I asked at Special Services if they had some sort of “voucher” for internet use but they said they couldn’t help.  So we sat and waited until 5:40 pm when they started boarding US Airways flight 718.  We immediately got on the plane and into our seats.  Boarding went relatively quickly and before we knew it we were pulling out of the gate.   After about 15 minutes or so, the pilot shut down one of the engines and informed us all that there was an issue that needed to be resolved prior to take off so we would be pulling back into the gate and have the mechanics come on board to look into it.  We pulled back into the gate and waited, after about another 15 minutes the pilot came back on the overhead speaker to say that the issue seemed to have resolved itself “as sometimes they do”, and that we would be pulling out of the gate to depart.  We pulled out of the gate again and after another 10 – 15 minutes the pilot informed us that it seemed “that the problem didn’t fix itself”  once they pulled back into the gate the mechanics would come on board to take a look at the issue.  He went on to say that he was sorry for the delay but it would probably be at least another half hour before we would know anything else.

The mechanics did come on board and after a while the pilot informed us that they were going to pull out of the gate with the mechanics on board just to be sure that the problem was fixed.  After a few minutes we pulled back up to the gate, the mechanics exited the airplane, the doors were shut and the pilot announced we were heading to the runway to prepare for takeoff.  We made it to the runway, waited for the aircraft in front of us to take off, then we were cleared for takeoff.  The plane accelerated down the runway and just before taking off the plane came to a screeching halt.  Bodies were jolted forward, children began crying, and mothers began demanding off the plane.  People were looking out the windows yelling “what’s happening, what’s happening”, others were yelling “stay calm, stay calm”.  It seemed like an eternity before the pilot spoke to us all.  His words were “sorry about that folks but I think it’s best if we just head back to the gate and have the plane looked at because this issue won’t go away”.

Once back at the gate is was mayhem.  People rushed to the exit door and surrounded the flight attendants demanding they open the doors and let them off.  It was chaos.  After about 20 minutes, an agent from US Airways came on board and said that anyone that didn’t wish to continue on the flight could leave the plane and be rescheduled for another day.  She then added, “but we can’t sit around waiting for you, you have to make a decision and leave now”.  My mother was not going to attempt flying on that plane so we got up, grabbed our bags, and left.  Many people did the same.  Once we got off the plane we were treated like nothing but a big inconvenience.  We were herded from one area to another, spoken to like children being scolded, and not shown even an ounce of understanding.  There were a couple of agents working and they collected all of our baggage information so they could pull the baggage off the plane, then the process of re-booking began…for me and my mother, it began all over again.

At 11:30 that night, we were finally given new boarding passes for US Airways flight 718 departing at 6:25 pm on January 14^th.  We were also given a hotel voucher for the Sheraton Suites, and four $10 vouchers for food.  At midnight we arrived at our hotel to find no available food.  We were both physically and emotionally spent.  Not caring about hunger, we went to sleep.  The following morning I went to the front desk to request a late check out and was told we could stay until 3 pm.  It was a blessing in so many ways.  We relaxed a bit but not enough to forget the previous nights nightmare.  We were finally able to eat something so we went to the only restaurant at the hotel and had two burgers, two coffees, and an order of onion rings…$36!

At 3 pm we checked out of the hotel and were shuttled back to the airport.  At 5:40 pm we once again boarded US Airways flight 718 but this time we actually took off at 6:25 pm.  When we arrived in Rome we had to search down our luggage as it never really was taken off the previous nights flight.  Instead, it sat in baggage claim for most of the day until it was picked up and sent to the storage unit of the baggage handling company that covered the previous nights flight.

Since I was out of touch with the driver in Italy I learned he did wait 36 hours in Rome and we never arrived although he still got paid 200 Euros for his time.

I am now home safely but I am in no way feeling secure.  I have flown with US Airways my entire life and it hasn’t always been perfect, but nothing ever is.

The difference here is that the ball was dropped on so many occasions.

• Starting with the US Airways agent at Palm Beach International who should have listened to my concerns and thought about what the consequences might be for the customers standing before him.  Instead, he just pushed us along by telling us lies.
• Then, before arriving in Philadelphia the flight attendants should have been a little more sensitive to the fact that an elderly woman was concerned over missing her flight, she shouldn’t have laughed it off like we were her new best friends.
• Special Services should have been able to better accommodate us and our needs taking into consideration the time of day, the age of the passenger, and the fact that we were stranded in a major American city where a cup of coffee costs $4
• The agents that “assisted” us passengers who chose not to fly after experiencing the plane coming to a screeching halt should have been more patient and understanding.  They should have made an attempt to take time to speak with us not at us.  They should have tried show us some respect, some care, some compassion.

After all of this I can honestly say that I am disappointed with the way US Airways treats its customers.  It needs to end now or the good reputation that you had for so many years will quickly be wiped away.  I have utilized US Airways online feedback form and requested to speak to someone regarding this terrible experience.  I am now faxing this with the hope that my voice doesn’t go unheard, and that my feelings don’t get pushed aside.  I was always a loyal customer and I deserve at least this.

Giovanna Pasquarelli

…of Mom!?!  I got that thrown my way the other day and after recovering from the initial shock of hearing those words I began to think, why is that so insulting?  I love my Mom.  She is a woman that is strong in ways I could never be.  She is a woman who raised her children in a country that was not her own.  She is a woman who faced the challenge of assimilating to a new culture.  She is a woman who walked away from everything she was taught about being a good wife and mother so she could move forward in a whole new world.  She is a woman who never let her limitations deter her.  She is my Mom.  She is our Mom.  I am proud to be like her.

……

Where some of the best moments of 2009 took place.

So to answer the question I left you all with at the end of my last post, the dog that I photographed was one of the first photos I took as we arrived in Gallipoli for a one week vacation.  It was me and 5 friends who set off to experience an area of Puglia known as Salento.  We decided to rent a big 4 bedroom house near the sea in Gallipoli because of it’s location.   From there we set off all day, everyday, to find some fabulous new seaside town with incredible views  like these.

Santa Maria de Leuca

Ostuni, "The White City"

The food was amazing and always with a base of fresh seafood.

Need I say anything?

YUMMY!!!

And the beaches were breathtaking…take a look for yourself.

Baia Verde

The Maldives of Italia

This was an incredible 7 days but it could have never been one of the the Best of 2009 if I hadn’t had the opportunity to share it with the best friends an American girl in Italy could have hoped for….Here we are…………..

La Squadra

That's All Folks!!!!!!!!!!!

I spent too much time in 2009 feeling like he looks, feeling like a spectator, trapped.  By the time October rolled around I could not wait to get back to America to feel some sense of connection to the world.  I waited and waited for December 13th to roll around so that I could board that plane back to “life”.  Now the 13th has come and gone and here I am back in America.  I am reconnecting with family, friends, and the everyday American way of life, you know, Dunkin Donuts, Bloomingdales, and let us not forget the most American thing of all, spending money you don’t have.  Once the novelty of America wore off, and my bank account became very close to non-existent, I started to spend time my time with family and friends reviewing my year in Italy.  It was then that I began to realize that 2009 wasn’t really *that* bad of a year, in fact, it was pretty damn good.  Sure there were really bad things that happened but I need to focus on the positive…I need to focus on the “Best of 2009″.

So who is that little guy in the photo?  Well, you’ll have to stay tuned to find out!

…let’s make it the best year yet!!!

I thought about getting back into blogging a lot over the past several months but always struggled with what to say. I guess I felt that I could only write about a life that was all happy and jolly when the truth of the matter is, life is not all happy and jolly. So, not wanting to drop by just to bitch and moan I stayed away. Well, no more!

I have a lot to say and the better part of it may not be pretty…or maybe it will. I don’t really know how things will play and I don’t really want to know. There is, however, one thing I know for sure and it’s that life isn’t handed to us in a nice and neat, pretty little package but there is always something good hidden beneath the mess.

It is this fundamental belief and the NaBloPoMo theme of “BEST” that fueled my desire to attempt blogging again. I’m pretty confident that if you don’t see the connection between the two right now, you will soon enough.