la mia mamma italiana

Happy Sunday, everyone.

Well, I may not have friends in Palermo yet, but I do have a surrogate mother. I just got back from lunch at Paola's... she's the woman i talked about earlier, who'd like me to give her English lessons starting from scratch. She's the one who's a brand-new empty-nester, separated from her husband, with a daughter my age who's at school in Milan and a son who just started college in the U.S. She used to be a doctor, now she runs a vineyard on Vulcano, one of the Aeolian islands off the coast of Sicily. So basically she has no idea what to do with her time and is beside herself without her children to dote on.

You thought empty nest syndome was a problem in the U.S. You have no idea. These Italian moms go crazy when (if) their children leave home. They take mothering to a whole new level.

She's very sweet, though, and incredibly smart and interesting and funny. I'm happy to hang out with her, and also unable to resist her cooking. She's also very worldly and well-traveled, something I (probably unfairly, I admit) wouldn't expect from a palermitana. In fact, we were talking about that... she was kind of apologizing to me for how close-minded and provincial a lot of Sicilian girls are. How they're focused on men and marriage and society, they're un-curious, un-independent, un-adventurous. And I was telling her that I thought it was maybe more of a generational thing than a regional thing, because I've been surprised at how many American girls are a bit that way, too, even in places like Brown -- much more so than I think most foreigners realize, with their Rosie-the-Riveter-type images of American women. So we were talking a bit about that. She was telling me how lucky she feels to have had the parents she had, who let her go off and do her own thing, and reject Catholic school, and move to Paris by herself for a few months at age 17, despite the fact that this was a totally scandalous thing for a Sicilian family to let their daughter do in those days. And now, in her view, Sicilian girls of today wouldn't have the curiosity or bravery to even think of doing such a thing, if their families did let them.

Anyway, she's a cool woman. Plus she has the most beautiful house. I think I talked about it last time, this enormous villa in kind of a ring shape around a central courtyard, on a hilltop outside of Palermo with an awesome view of the city and the water and the mountains, and with a swimming pool. She says she has to sell it, because it's much too big for one person, and she doesn't think her children will ever come back to Palermo for the long-term. But it makes me sad to think of selling such a house, especially since her father built it. And despite its size, it's totally un-ostentatious. It's got a very lived-in feel, with the presence of children throughout -- for example, stickers all over the kitchen cupboards -- and wacky furnishings, like a rug with a big map of Afghanistan bordered by machine guns and helicopters. And, most importantly, books everywhere. Every room filled with books, lining the walls, stacked in piles on tables and desks, tucked into every nook and cranny. When I have my own house, it'll be covered with books just like that.

Probably we Americans get more attached to houses than they usually do here in Italy. Next time I go to Paola's I'll have to bring my camera and take tons of photos. Today I was kicking myself for not bringing it because it was raining heavily and then the sun came out and there was a huge, full rainbow over the city down below, with the ocean in the background. It was lovely. I know my parents would go wild over this house of hers. You guys have to see it, at least in pictures.

Plus, she told me she'd like to bring me along to this island vineyard of hers next time she goes, when the weather's good enough. I'm super excited about that; I'm sure it's a totally gorgeous place. It's two hours by car from Palermo plus an hour-long boat ride. She says she often leaves Friday afternoons and comes back Sunday evenings. So I'm hoping I'll get to go along one of these weekends.

I'm grateful for her hospitality, though it's not easy for me to accept that kind of generosity and motherly attention. I mean, I have a hard enough time letting my own mother do things for me, let alone other people's mothers. And other people's mothers who don't even know me. I have a deeply-ingrained American mentality of having to do everything on my own, to reject help or favors from people when I can't adequately repay them. But I try, I try to force myself to let people help me. And probably Italy is the ideal place to overcome such a mentality, since people are so insistent with their generosity and hospitality.

I think that's one of the things that draws me to Italy. It's a place that pushes me to be the exact opposite of the way I'm naturally inclined to be. I hate to be dependent on anybody, but here you kind of have to depend on other people. I sometimes have trouble letting people get close to me, and I tend to isolate myself when I feel stressed or out of my element, but here people force their way in, pull you in to their lives. I've tended to avoid interacting with total strangers in public, just out of habit, but here, everything is unpredictable and unreliable and you can't do anything without having to ask people for help or for directions or for information. And so, Italy pushes me and I push myself. And it's exhausting, mentally and physically, but it's like I know on some level that it will make me better in the end.

It's strange that I sit down at the computer with an idea of what I'm going to write and then I end up going in another direction entirely. Here I am going off on these tangents when there's still all this basic stuff I haven't talked about yet. Anyway, I'll post again soon. At least now I have reliable internet, thanks to Italo so generously making it his personal mission to address all the little discomforts I have here -- without my asking or even feeling comfortable accepting his help -- and giving me his chiavetta for internet access through the phone. (Plus he also found me a little screwdriver for my glasses. And now he has his eye on my shower.)

I don't know how on earth I'm hungry again after my big traditonal Italian lunch at Paola's and cannoli and then an afternoon coffee and pastry with one of my co-teachers, but lately I have been eating everything in sight. So, I'm off to have dinner and then I'll post again.

A presto!