Onwards and Upwards

Lisbon (Lisbona in Italian, gets me everytime) is the city of seven hills, but Kate and I must have climbed at least 20. Lisbon is a very beautiful city. The streets are white on white: paved with white cobblestones and surrounded by white buildings with intricate tiles on their walls. It reminded me a lot of Southern Spain/ Southern Italy. Here is one photo:




Perhaps the key to good photography is having the patience to capture the extraordinary when it seems to be ordinary but alas, every street looked like this so I didn't take so many photos. Better luck next time! As you may notice, there is no one on the street. I have to say, Lisbon was inexplicably empty, lacking the people you see just walking around in Italy.

A lovely monastery in Belem, next to the famed patisserie written up in 36 hrs:



Kate and I also journeyed to Sintra, a charmingly hilly town about 45 min outside of Lisbon. It is filled with quirky castles and mansions. We walked around and the more we walked, the higher we went, the more it rained, the more windy it became. We saw the moorish castle, all drenched in a Lombard-esque fog. It was rather dreamy.



And, on a closing note, a picture of some famed Portuguese pastries.

Character

look closely

I like characters, I like strange people. I always find them, perhaps because I am always on the lookout. Like the other day when this man on the subway asked me for a tissue out of the blue. He was extremely well-dressed in typical milanese style: all black, head to toe, but then his black leather shoes had a very thin hot pink piping around where the shoelaces were. Very classy guy, and he asked me for a tissue. I told this to one of my coworkers and she thought he was hitting on me, but he wasn't. He took the tissue and blew his nose and then stared into space.

Italy in general is scare on characters, Milan has a fairly large amount for Italy, but then everyone says that Milan is not really Italy, that it's not a city of Milanese, that it's all foreigners, etc. etc. I have several theories on why people tend not to be "bizzare" diciamo in Italy. First, people are never far from their homes (exception to this rule is in Milan, as i said). They know how things work, how to get things done, how to deal with people and bearacracy and all that jazz (we foreigners don't, hence why we look so strange. Two years in and i am finally starting to get a grasp, barely). Second, Italians (especially outside of Milan) don't really rush. Things are done "con calma." Third, "fare la bella figura" having a nice public "figure" is very important. There are many possible theories.

Still, many things and characteristics that would be strange in New York aren't here. For starters, random people are friendly, like my shoe cobbler who showed me a photo of his son who lives in America. There are also a lot of trucks parked on the side of highways with produce from the south. The other day I bought some oranges and clementines and fennel and damn they are good. The real odd thing is that the truck had a bag with the farm's name on it, when many greengrocers near me in Milan barely give out bags at all.

One that note, I end with a picture of a store composed entirely of neon paint and vending machines:


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life in general

Traffic by the Navigli, Milan's very own system of canals designed by Leonardo DiVinci

I have to admit, I like generalizations. They add some much needed order to the world.

Three generalizations:
1) Girls like to eat in bed and watch tv
2) Italian men love to dance, at least more so than their American counterparts.
3) Italians make a lot of generalizations (it is very true)

Well, what am I actually doing? Four blog entries in an it still remains unclear (several months in and it still remains unclear to me). I am too at home in Italy's ramblings. In any event, I have a job as "mother tongue" extradinaire at Crema's infamous Sraffa. Then I have another, possibly temporary job at a Liceo Artistico (art school) and have been doing random projects on the side with hopefully more to come.

Italians tend to do things "con calma." This is why there aren't so many characters in Italy, or one of the reasons. But, when it rains, it pours. When the ball gets rolling, it don't stop. Tick tock. Everything remains up in the air. But, that's Italy for you.

monteclassico & trentino: a long awaited trip to the Dolomites and the (somewhat controversial) Austrian border

A church in Male` (no relation to the word male, bad). notice the sloped roof, typical to the houses of the region.

one of many random views in which italy, as always, looks like a post card.

so more at some point about my lovely weekend in trentino (with my fellow people of questionable and partial Austrian decent), but for the time being I leave you all with a picture of a delicious "tipica" dindin alla trentina, deer with polenta and wild mushrooms. yum! not pictured, the delicious cheeses that followed and the warm apple strudel that concluded.