Snow in Rome

For the past two weeks I had been basking in the sunlight and the spring air. I would walk around without my jacket and pridefully remind myself how cold it must be in Oregon. On Monday I received my due karma -- snow. The last time there was snow in Rome was 1988, but on Monday afternoon it snowed in Rome for two whole hours. The snowstorm was beautiful; thousands of large and detailed flakes floated to the ground covering everything. Needless to say, the girls were thrilled. Right after school they ran out of the car and we began building a snowman. The snow didn’t last through Monday night and our dear snowman was gone by morning, but we did take some fun pics:

A Few Questions

A while back (I won't' tell you how long because I will be thoroughly embarrassed) my Aunt sent me some questions. I am finally getting around to answering them. I am probably giving her (and everyone else reading them) too much information, but I really want to remember the answers to these great questions. So here are the first three:

What is your favorite thing to drink? For my first dinner in Italy the family took me to a nice restaurant in the center. I will never forget that night. The buildings were unlike anything I had ever seen. The traffic was unlike anything I had ever seen. The statues were unlike anything I had ever seen. We walked to the Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountian, and Piazza Navona. People were everywhere. Along with trying to soak in the city I was trying to make sure the girls didn’t get lost. My eyes flickered across the buildings, unable to take anything in. My ears were flooded with sounds. People pushed past me and I dodged cars. I amazed by the depth and extremeness of culture that surrounded me.


The whole night was a blur, except for one thing: my first taste of water with gas. It was dis-gus-ting. It took all of my energy to keep that water in my mouth. And for the rest of dinner I didn’t take a single sip. I was thirsty, but there was no way I was going to drink that.

Five months later? It’s my favorite thing to drink. When I go out to eat, I make sure my water is with gas. Each time I buy a water bottle it is acqua gasata. I can’t get enough of it. Over Christmas Break I told Marie how much I was going to miss my acqua gasata. And her reply? “Oh don’t worry, they sell a package of it at Costco.” So this summer when I am missing Italy and want to treat myself, you can bet I will be heading to Costco.

What is your favorite place to visit so far? This is a hard question. One of the great things about Rome is that there are so many places to visit depending on what you want to see. When I want to marvel at architecture, art, and feel so small I go to the Vatican. When I want to dive into history and wonder at the past I got to the Colosseum and Roman Forum. (Speaking of the Colosseum…I have noticed that there are two spellings of the word: Colosseum or Coliseum. My travel books use both….which is really the right spelling? I prefer Colosseum because it looks grander than Coliseum and is closer to the Italian spelling. But if you have an answer let me know.) But the places I could (and almost do) visit everyday are the Pantheon and Piazza Navona.

The Pantheon surprised me. Before I came to Rome I didn’t really know what it was or what it was built for. I remember watching a movie about the building of the Pantheon in my World History class, but there was no way that video could have portrayed the true grandeur and majesty of the building. The building is massive and commanding; it contains an authoritative aura. And the inside is filled with works of art and striking marble. I go to the Pantheon frequently just to look at the paintings, the statues, the cupola, the structure and the floor. The Pantheon, one of the places I was not so excited to see, is now one of my favorite.

Piazza Navona is only a short walk from the Pantheon and is just as magical. This Piazza is the home of three amazing fountains and, in my opinion, the most beautiful church in Rome. The Four Rivers Fountain by Bernini is the most famous of the statues in the Piazza and thus the other fountains are unfortunately often overlooked. My favorite fountain is not the Four Rivers Fountain but instead Fontana del Nettuno. This fountain is quite small and contains many little carved statues instead of the one massive work of art by Bernini. It shows the struggle between a man and an octopus. If you saw this fountain you would see that the marble is bursting with life and passion. The man has the octopus tightly wrapped around his leg but his face shows no fear. Instead of panic, courage and confidence shine as though he has prepared for this moment and knows he will overcome. I love this fountain. Often (maybe even too often) I sit on the bench in front of Fontana del Nettuno and write or read poetry. Piazza Navona is a little haven for me.

What's your favorite Italian word? Right now I am in love with salve. Salve is the sweet and formal way to say hello. This word just rolls off the tongue and dances in the air. I think it’s magical. And, I may shock some of you, but I do not like the word ciao. In fact I am even going to say (please don’t get too angry…) that I think it is the second ugliest word in the Italian language. To me ciao is a harsh sounding word, especially when said quickly and bluntly. Salve is a much better option.

Playing with the Girls

Just thought you might enjoy a few pics of the girls --

Daphne's Homework

Today I helped Daphne with her homework. Meirav and Saul are in Amsterdam for the day and I was given the challenge of helping the girls understand and accomplish their assignments. So, when Daphne cried out for help my knowledge was put to the test. I went to her side and dreadfully realized she was struggling with her math assignment.

Now I have never been to good at math. In fact I have been quite pitiful when it comes do that dreaded subject. My Mother can attest to the many late, tearful nights I had in high school with this numbers game. More truthfully these tears came before high school too. After acknowledging that the subject at hand was math I froze. Took a deep breath. And then sat down with a pencil and large eraser.

And do you want to know what? It was quite easy to understand. I even taught her a fraction trick that I remember from home school. And we laughed. And we learned. And the best part...the instructions were in Italian. Yep, and I understood it. (Now try telling that to my high school math teachers)

I was pretty proud. Just had to share.

Pics From Viterbo

On Saturday Stine, Haily and I decided to travel to the nearby town of Viterbo. By Italian standards the town has nothing particulary special to offer. Of course there were churches, and beautiful fountians, and sweet piazzas. I found the most beautiful fountain, so I had to take a pic. Here are some of the shots from our day.

This was my favorite fountain in the city. Get a closer look in the pic below:

Aren't the lions beautiful? And the fountain isn't rushing with water but instead it looks calm and in control. I just love this fountain because it is so different from all of the other large and gaudy fountains, but it still has a strength. It has a different style than most tourist fountains, but it still stands proud. I just love the water spouts as well. There is just so much detail and the dark color of the fountain is quite compelling. This little guy has to be in my top ten favorites.

This picture is the beginning of a story. Our Norwegian friend Stine, who has traveled the world (literally), loves to mock my American friend Hailey and I as we are constantly posing for pictures and cooing over the fountains. The beautiful and old buildings in Europe are astounding to two young American girls, but to Stine these things are old hat. So you can imagine on a cold day how she wouldn't want to take a picture in front of a fountian that looks just like the others.

And this closer shot shows her face silently wishing she could make my camera disappear. Until Hailey decided to lighten the mood (and face) by giving her a suprise.


Thank you for putting up with the Americans Stine. You have done too many Rick Steve tours and pics in front of churches and fountains.

This is Why I Love Living in Italy

Yesterday, my American friend Hailey came to church with me. She was a great trooper going to a strange church in Italian for three hours. After church my dear friend Yefrey (he is honestly the nicest person ever) invited us to his house for lunch.

We had a splendid time talking while eating the delicious food his Mother and Aunt made us...


playing on Yefrey’s accordion and authentic African drum (which as super rad. Bryce, Tanner, and Wesley: you could still see the cow hair on the side of the drum. And it made the coolest sound ever! I was really tempted to borrow it and make some money by banging on it near the metro stops...)


and then we listening to his Aunt and Mother sing...


And let me tell you, they were SO good. It was a diverse and fun filled day, but the best part was still to come. On the spur of the moment Yefrey said that he wanted to take us to Bracciano, a lake just outside Rome surrounded by three beautiful and quaint towns. So we got in the car and drove there. How lucky am I to be living so close to these beautiful places?!? After just thirty minutes of driving, we found ourselves next to a church castle, in a charming, classic Italian town next to the cleanest lake I had ever seen.

Yefrey and I next the lake

Hailey and I pinching ourselves just trying to believe we are really here

Hailey and I next to the darling, yet aggressive swans. Notice the lights in the background from one of the other towns around the lake. It was beautiful to see the lights of the two other towns glistening in the distance.

A small yet sweet piazza we thought was cute

Hailey and I in Bracciano's main Piazza with the castle in the background.

I feel so blessed to have these beautiful places right at my fingertips. I have to opportunity to go to Napoli this weekend as a day trip. I can spontaneously decide to tour the coliseum again, and I have been able to stand in history. I am blessed to be here.

I am now in love wth Bracciano. It is my second favorite city in Italy so far. If you are coming to Rome, it is a must see side trip. You can bet that this summer I will be spending a whole saturday in the lake and meandering around the town.

Craving This

When I was in Germany for Christmas the sweet Wasem family asked me what kind of meals I would like to eat during the week. The only thing I asked for was eggs and bagels for breakfast. I went on to explain how breakfast in Italy consists of only a biscuit with tea or thirty cornflakes (seriously) in drip of milk. And I described how much I missed the eggs cooked with cheese and onions, laid on top of a fresh and warm bagel that my Mother used to hand me on my way to Seminary each morning. Oh, how I miss that! The Wasem family satisfied this craving by making me eggs for breakfast each morning I was at their house.

Don't get me wrong, I adore the Italian food. I love it actually. But sometimes I just dream of having Mexican food for dinner. Spicy salsa with fresh, warm chips. Mom’s homemade tortillas stuffed with cheese, refried beans, tomatoes, black olives, and pico pica. I miss Mexican. I miss soft chocolate chip cookies. And I miss big breakfasts. These cravings, which cannot be satisfied, have been particularly haunting me for the last month.

Today I was craving this:

Actually I have not only been craving this warm and delicious brownie today, but also yesterday and the day before and the day before....and even the day before. I want a brownie that is warm and thick. A brownie so soft and gooey that it is almost undercooked. A brownie that is filled with chocolate chips, surprising your mouth with extra melted chocolate. A brownie that my Aunt Stacy would know how to make in a heartbeat.

I have been looking everywhere for this brownie. But I can’t find it. Just brownies are almost unheard of in Italy, let alone this massive, gooey, warm brownie I am imagining.
All day at while Hailey, Stine and I were at Viterbo, I was describing this brownie. The craving had become so bad that it was all I could think about.

On our way home from Viterbo we had 25 minutes to kill before the bus left. With this wild craving accompanying my every thought, I told the girls I needed to buy a box of brownie mix…no matter what it took. We began running. We ran to the nearest grocery store in order to quickly buy a box of brownies and then catch the bus by 7:00.

But, to my absolute dismay and horror the small brownie box cost seven euros! Not fitting into my budget. (In fact I don't know whose budget that box does fit. No wonder the Italians don’t eat brownies regularly.)

So as of this right now I still haven’t satisfied my craving. I have not bitten into the luscious and warm brownie filled with pockets of extra chocolate.

My quest this week: to find a true American brownie.

OOOPPS!

When I first arrived in Italy I was determined not to make language mistakes and say something embarrassing. I have learned that one can’t learn a language without making mistakes. And I have made plenty of my own. I often mix up close words and have said I wanted to go on a gray instead of a walk. Or said that I wanted to eat flowers instead of eating outside. But, here are a few of my most embarrassing:

The young single adults in my stake spent a month preparing two songs for Stake Conference. I was feeling pretty savvy that after only two months of being in Italy I could understand most of what they were saying. The young choir director asked if anyone needed to go over the songs again. Excited to use the language I raised my hand hoping to ask if we could sing the second verse again. Instead I asked, “Posso fare il second scrofa di nuovo?” Which is “Can I do the second female pig again?” (Should have used strofa not scrofa) Laugher exploded throughout the chapel and of course I had no idea why.

I was sitting on the train one day when an elderly woman approached my seat and asked me a question. She spoke very quickly and I was struggling to catch all of her words. As she finished speaking I told her I only spoke a little, little, little Italian, “Parlo solo un po po po po di Italiano.” Po means a little, but I guess when put when said more than once means poop instead. At least I got my message across. She definitely understood that I spoke only a little Italian…poop Italian in fact.

I hate ‘false friends’. The definition of ‘false friends’ is a pair of words in two languages that look or sound similar but differ in meaning. Some examples are: morbido which instead of meaning morbid means soft; noioso which instead of meaning noisy means boring; fattoria which instead of meaning factory means farm; sensibile which instead of meaning sensible means sensitive…One of the worst false friends in eccitato. You think it means excited right? Well I was writing an e-mail to an Italian male friend and said, “Sono eccitato per vederla di nuovo.” I meant to say I was excited to see him again, but my sentence actually translated perfectly into, “I am sexually excited or aroused to see you again.” No wonder the next time we hung out he brought his girlfriend along.

As I was trying to make small talk with the girlfriend I asked how old she was. My mistake arrived when instead of pronouncing both Ns I pronounced only one. “Quanto ani hai” translates perfectly instead “how many anuses do you have?” She gave me a look that I will never forget.

So here is the beginning of my mistake list. I am sure there are a lot more to come.

Eight Days of Hanukkah

We just finished the eight days a Hanukkah. It has been a week I will always cherish and remember forever. The story of Hanukkah has become as familiar as most other biblical stories. The Hanukkah songs, authentically sung in Hebrew by the whole family are dear and sweet to me; I even have a favorite. Each night we lit the candles and the spun around with our hands up in the air, suddenly dropping to the ground trying to imitate the dreidel as we sang. The bag of dreidels were pulled out each evening and eventually strewn across the floor around the piles of chocolate coins. נ (Nun) ג (Gimel) ה (Hey) ש (Shin) have become part of my vocabulary. The fried food was tasty and warm. Each night was a party with friend and family. Next year I sure am going to miss this tradition. I will have to find some way to keep it alive.

This Thanksgiving...

we bought avena, and burro at 'sma'.
we danced in the kitchen.
we made apple crisp.

we sang to ‘journey’.
we made a huge mess.

we told the story of the pilgrims.
we made a gratitude chain: counting down the days to hanukkah.
we learned to say ‘oats’ in Italian (avena).
we did a lot of cleaning.
we ate cornbread with honey-butter.

we had a good day.

Rome the Au Pair Way

Left. Right. Left. Right. I left my wife with forty-three children…..This is the song the girls and I were singing Saturday as we walked through Piazza del Popolo righting holding hands and walking in unison. I remember my Mom teaching me this song as we walked to the Lodi pool and being fascinated that my left foot went down each time the song said left. The chant came in handy as I was trying to keep track three little girls in the heart of Rome.

To make up for the days I will not be working when I go to the Swiss Temple in December, I am spending some Saturdays with the girls. Last Saturday I took the girls to the children’s museum Explora. The girls loved it.

Afterward we met my friend Stine on Via del Corso for lunch and together walked along the Roman streets until we found a sweet restaurant. The girls were absolutely thrilled to go to a sit down restaurant without their parents. Dinner arrived (as usual was totally delish) and we had a blast eating and chatting.

After dinner we had extra money left over for gelato. Of all the places in Rome to buy gelato, the girls wanted to go to McDonalds. So we walked almost all the way down Via del Corso until we reached the McDonalds next to Fontana di Trevi. The girls enjoyed their gelato filled with M&Ms as we walked back to the train station. I on the other hand was completely stressed. Having grown up in this city the girls have no fear for the crowds of people or hundreds of winding streets. It was a Saturday evening and the streets were filled with people. I was constantly counting, making sure everyone was close. An immense relief washed over me when we reached the train station.

The girls had never ridden the train before. I handed them each a ticket and they thought it was absolutely astounding when the machine sucked in their ticket and the doors quickly slid open for them. We hopped on the train and their eyes opened wide as the screeching noises started. Joy peered out the window the whole time; she didn’t want to get off at our stop. All three girls said the train was their favorite part of the day.

I was a beautifully warm day filled with fun activities, but slightly stressful to keep an eye on everyone (which is the reason there are no pictures). I think I will wait a while before I take them back to the city by myself. Maybe next time we’ll just go for a train ride.

Sunday at the Vatican

During General Conference weekend our Sunday Services were broadcast LIVE from Utah. The first session was from 6pm to 8pm and then the second session was from 10pm to midnight. (Imagine going to General Conference with your little children!) With my extra free time in the morning I decided to do as the Romans and watch the Vatican Mass (like most Romans actually go to church on Sunday….)

A couple blocks away from the Vatican I could already hear the bombing voices of an angelic choir filling the Piazza. It was beautiful. As I walked through the columns, which almost encircle the Vatican‘s Piazza, into the square I saw the Vatican Choir on the TV screen which was broadcasting Mass to the public. I stood in front of the screen with crowds of other people for quite some time. The Piazza was filled with richness. Brilliant colors shone on the TV screens. Vibrant greens, golds, reds, and purples made up the astonishing attire. The voices boomed and the interior walls were striking with their abundance of imbedded details. I was captivated with the meticulous procedures, costumes, gestures, and most of all the music.

After about 45 minutes my feet began to hurt so I walked over to the obelisk in the middle of the Piazza and sat against it. The sun was deliciously warm. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and let the warmth penetrate my skin while soaking in the harmony of the choir’s voices. It was a perfect moment.

That is how I spent my Sunday morning. I loved every minute of it.

Angles and Demons

I needed some variety in my day. I was spending my time studying Italian, Roman history, Michelangelo, Venice, and pushing through the wonderfully classic yet thick novel Anna Karenina. I found myself looking at my bookshelf perusing the titles for a novel that I could get lost in; I wanted a novel that was purely enjoyable. Meirav suggested Angles and Demons.

I sat down on the Spanish Steps, read the first page and was captivated. The story, set in Roma, takes the reader through a wild chase on Roman streets and piazzas in order to solve the overwhelming dilemma at hand.

The chase first took the couple to the Pantheon where numerable facts of its history were embedded in the pages. I was in awe by the bits of information I was gleaning and wanted to see for myself exactly what the author was describing. So I picked up by bag and walked to the Pantheon.

I learned against one of the Pantheon’s mammoth columns and read about the couples’ discoveries. Then I went in for a look. I gazed at the ceiling with the new knowledge that it was the tapering thickness of the dome which made it look weightless; I peered at Bernini’s tomb, and couldn’t believe I was meandering in the world’s largest free standing dome until the 1960s.

Next the couple went to Piazza del Popolo. And I followed them. I read the novel following the characters to each location. My chase took me to Piazza Bernini, the Vatican, Castel Sant’ Angelo, Piazza Navona, and multiple churches. I was able to read about the characters’ mission, discover numerous facts, and then see the building myself.

Now how many people get to do that?