It wasn’t a good weekend to be an American in Italy. The US women lost two matches to Italy in the Davis Cup (a big story here; besides football the only sports story to make the regular news) and in Moto GP, which is a huge deal here because of 9-time world champion Valentino Rossi, the Americans Ben Spies and Nicky Hayden were soundly beaten by Rossi in Valencia in the final race of the season. The air of a nationalistic feud is starting to stir between Raimundo and me.
I’m waging a silent, solitary, mostly unsuccessful fight over the organization of the silverware container. The holder has perfect, separate slots for cooking utensils, cucchiai (spoons), coltelli (knives), forchette (forks), and cucchiaini (teaspoons). I organized them all into their “proper places” one night after doing the dishes. If we keep them stored in their right place everything fits and everything is easy to find. To my dismay, no one else seems to have sensed this amazing new system and continue to store the flatware willy-nilly (a technical term). I regularly reorganize it with the hope that the structure will osmose (it’s a word!) its way into the hearts and minds of i miei coinquilini (my roommates). Today I caught Raimundo separating the spoons and forks. Progress!
As it seems happens most Friday nights I stayed late at work. I didn’t mind this time because it was to do an estimate for a new US client and since I was hired to increase sales in the States it seemed appropriate. The BDMs I hired in September are starting to gain some traction and while the numbers are small right now I’m feeling that momentum is starting to build along, with my optimism.
It had been raining most of the week but Friday night was crisp and clear as I walked home. The chestnut guy was doing a brisk business. By the time I got back to the apartment, Alice had already left for her parent’s house for the weekend but Deborah and Raimundo were staying. They were having salad for dinner and I chose to make a pasta with tomato sauce with zucchini, mushroom and prosciutto. When it was ready they both asked if they could try and some and declared it delicious and were optimistic that there was still a chance I might become a good Italian after-all. (A big step forward after my disaster a couple weeks ago when I made a quick snack out of a spaghetti and meatball sandwich and they decreed all hope for me lost.)
The weekend turned into what I guess is the typical Italian weekend – meet friends around 23.00 for drinks and to hang-out. Get home around 3am, sleep until Noon, relax and take care of things in the afternoon and then repeat Saturday night. On Saturday I had to go to the grocery store twice because I was thrown out the first time before I finished getting everything I wanted. It was 13.00 and that’s when they close for la pausa pranzo (the lunch break) so everyone out! Raimundo made a great clam and fish risotto on Sunday for lunch and the three of us ate together before watching the final MotoGP race of the season which Raimundo and I spent arguing (while Deborah rolled her eyes) about who is the better rider, Rossi or Spies. Rossi placed second to Spies’ seventh but this was only Spies’ third ever race in this division and he only had three hours total practice on the track. I spent the rest of the afternoon studying Italian, cleaning the apartment and watching snowboarding movies.
Sunday night we went to watch the Roma vs. Inter football match and have a pizza with Massi and Lorenza. There are lots of better places for pizza but none with televisions. The concept of the sports bar hasn’t really taken hold here.
Speaking of snowboarding movies, there may be better places to ride than Meadows but it is a little weird to not have a season pass and to think about missing the Oregon season. No weekend trips in Parkdale dragging Heinrich’s kids out of bed. No sneaking out of work for half days. No beers in the HRM parking lot. No sweet jumps. The season opened last weekend in the Italian Alps but that’s about six or seven hours from here by car. The nearest resort is in the Apennines about two hours away. They top out at about 3000 meters and won’t open for another few weeks. From the descriptions I’ve been given they are the Italian equivalent of Meadows. Some how, some way though I’ll get some days in this season.
I wonder what Eric is doing right now?
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