Italian birthday

d
On Sunday, May 17, I turned 23. Aside from being a lot less palindromical (not a real word, according to Microsoft Word’s spellchecker) than 22, 23 doesn’t feel much different. I can still drink legally, but still can’t rent a car without paying extra fees. For those of you readers still yet to reach 23, don’t fret. It’s an easy one.

That said, my birthday weekend turned out to be one of the best I’ve had ever. On Friday, Liz and I threw an epic birthday party feast in our apartment. The menu included two types of lasagne, stuffed peppers, grilled eggplants (did you know that in the United Kingdom, eggplants are called aubergines? I had no idea), and Liz’s famous bean and tomato dip. The kitchen in our apartment is, officially, the second narrowest kitchen in Lombaria, and what would be our living room is Liz’s bedroom, so the nine of us (Liz, Laura, six of our Italian friends, and I) ended up feasting in the front hallway of the apartment. A bit cozy, but delicious.

Liz preparing culinary masterpieces in the narrow kitchen.



Lasagne!


For Sunday, my actual birthday, it had been arranged that I would go to dinner and a movie in Crema with Marta, my host sister, on behalf of Loretta, Gian, and Anna, who were all previously engaged. The plan was that I would be picked up in the piazza near my apartment at 7:30pm, we would grab a quick panino, and then head off to the movies. When Marta showed up at 8:15pm, I wasn’t thrilled… nobody likes to wait alone in a piazza for 45 minutes on the night of their 23rd birthday. But even if you wanted to, it’d be impossible to ever stay mad at Marta, so I let it go. As I got in the car, though, she said we had to go back to Castelleone before going to the cinema because she’d left her driver’s license at home. I pointed out that driving back to Castellone then without a license would be just as risky as driving back to Castelleone three hours later without a license, but she insisted on going back. Again not thrilled, I agreed, and off we went.

Of course, in retrospect, I should have suspected something. But, for whatever reason, I didn’t. Thus, when I walked into the house back in Castelleone and 20 people yelled “Surprise!” as loud as they could, I was completely unprepared.

For a week, it turns out, my host mom had been rounding up everybody that I knew in northern Italy. Liz and Laura were both there. My two Middlebury friends living in Brescia, about an hour and a half train ride from Castelleone, were there. My boss and her husband were there. All the kids I went to Rome with for New Year’s were there. Loretta had even tried to involve my former soccer team from Castelleone, but was, unfortunately, unable to get through to anybody. Nonetheless, it was an amazing surprise, and an amazing birthday party. From 8:30pm until midnight we all hung around on the back terrace, eating homemade pizza, cake, and – courtesy of Anna, the younger host sis – ice cream floats.



Me, still recovering from the surprise, with Loretta and Sarah (former Midd student working in Brescia).

My sisters.

Torta.

Of course, I was honored and grateful for all of the work Loretta and crew had put into making sure I had a good Italian birthday. Naturally, I had to get them back. And nothing, I’ve learned, makes for better surprise party revenge than hot, fresh, surprise pancakes.

(Preface: When my mom came and visited in November, she brought my host family pancake mix as a gift. Since then, I’d been promising my host fam to make them all pancakes one morning, but never got around to it.)

So it came to that this past Saturday morning at 3:00am, Marta picked me up in Crema on her way back home from an evening out. Arriving at the house in Castelleone, we had to make it seem like she was alone – Loretta is an extremely light sleeper, and often wakes up when her kids/host kids get back late from nights on the town. And so, closing our car doors in the driveway, we made sure to synchronize our efforts, creating the sound of one door slamming instead of two. (Very James Bond.) Then, entering the house, Marta went through all of her normal pre-bed rituals. The plan was to wake up at 7:30am, before Gian and Loretta would be awake, and prepare a massive plate of pancakes, so that when Gian and Loretta woke up at their usual Sunday hour of 8:30am, breakfast would be waiting for them. If this plan were to work, we couldn’t sleep upstairs, because G + L would have surely woken up when they heard us stirring about in the morning. As a result, we prepared the couches in the living room and slept down there. (Although “sleep” is a strong word. “Lay quietly” might be more accurate. Foolishly playing the role of the chivalrous host brother, I had let Marta have the bigger of the two couches. Which meant that my legs spent the night hanging off the side of the couch, slowly losing circulation.)

Anyway, the plan worked perfectly, and when Gian and Loretta finally came downstairs the next morning, they found a table full of pancakes and me and Marta passed out on our couches in the living room. Shortly after, a half-asleep Anna joined us, and the five of us enjoyed a very filling surprise American breakfast in Italy. We even used the Vermont maple syrup I’d brought over in September. In the end, it was an excellent culmination of the eight months I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful Italian family.

l

l

l

In a few hours, if their navigational skills manage to defeat the insanity of Italian road signs, my parents will arrive in Crema. We’ll spend 10 days traveling around northern Italy, and then return all together to Just Outside Of Boston on June 15th.

In theory, I’ll write one last, super trite, “what did this whole experience mean to me” post, in an effort to shed some meaning on the time I’ve spent living here. Said post may not happen until after I return to Newton, though, so I thank you in advance for any patience you might be able to extend my way.


Regardless, I’ll be in the States until the end of September, and then back to Crema for another year teaching at Pacioli.

Thanks to all seven of you for reading (readership has grown since my last post), happy beginning of summer, and be well.


Nate