Il parcheggio: 3 easy steps

1.  Purchase a small beater car.  Built-in scratches and dents increase your confidence on the road.  Side mirrors getting in the way?  You can worry about those later.  I've heard duct tape does wonders.

2. Find just enough space to parallel-park your car. If you hold up traffic trying to get into said space, good job: you have been aggressive enough to claim your territory. Seal the deal by reciprocating the honking all around you.

3. Once your initial maneuvers have gotten you out of the tailgaters' way, adjust the car's position within the space. Each time your bumper kisses the car behind you, it's time to hit the brakes, then advance until you tap the car in front of you.

(Exception: if space is really lacking, you may have to be a little more enthusiastic in your bumper-kissing. If done correctly, this may free up a few more centimeters for you.) 

Repeat this step until you are satisfied with your parking job: if you're in, your job is done.  Everyone is working within the same parameters!

Admittedly, I got out of the car to give Alan a few (rather unhelpful) pointers...but I still think we can give him a round of applause for this stellar parking job.  Good job, Alan!

*addendum: If cost is not an issue, you may somewhat bypass steps 2 and 3 by focusing on step 1: buy a Smart.

Roman Holiday

We had an atypical, but truly memorable, first Christmas as husband and wife. As we were thousands of miles from our families, without a single Christmas decoration in the room, it didn’t feel too festive. Instead of making last-minute holiday preparations, we spent the morning of Christmas Eve in the housing office. There were no ribbons or bows involved, only handshakes and another healthy dose of impassioned discussions in Italian. Yet for us this was the most wonderful Christmas gift of all: after more than a month of house-hunting and negotiating, we were finally able to sign the pre-contract for the apartment of our dreams!

There is still quite a bit of administrative business standing in the way of our move, but this is a big step in the right direction. The apartment is certainly worth the wait, as it is spacious, quiet despite its central location, and—best of all—has a magnificent view on Capri and Vesuvius. We will be well equipped to host visitors and now more than ever are looking forward to getting settled.

On the balcony at the hotel, getting ready for our trip to Rome!

That afternoon we packed a small bag with snacks, umbrellas, and tickets to “Midnight” Mass at the Vatican. You read right: we had the extraordinary fortune of getting tickets through the Chapel on base, and hitching a free ride on the USO (United Service Organizations) bus to Rome and back! We arrived at around 4.30 PM and waited in line for almost 4 hours before we were allowed to enter the church. Thankfully, the weather cooperated: the temperature was in the 50s, and it drizzled only at the beginning of our wait. All the packages and wrapping paper and ornaments in the world could not have provided the Christmas spirit we felt that night at Piazza San Pietro. The line of people, which formed a vast circle along the perimeter of the square, was buzzing with excitement in a multitude of languages. In the middle of the square stood a majestic tree and a large Nativity Scene, in front of which various people were reading Biblical texts and singing carols. The lights were on in the Pope’s quarters…

   

When we finally cleared security, we were ecstatic to find that many chairs were still available. The basilica looks quite different—but just as impressive—when filled by a huge congregation. We read along in our programs during the prelude, which seemed almost as long as a standard Mass. At ten o’clock, the processional started, and in entered a cohort of nuns and seminarians, bishops and cardinals, security officials and members of the Swiss Guard.

The Pope was just about to reach our row of chairs when a woman in red jumped out from the other side of the aisle and dragged him down to the floor. You all know the story; by our bus trip home around midnight it was already the biggest headline on the news. It was truly sad to witness this attack--on Christmas Eve of all nights--and needless to say, the congregation was noticeably shaken. Fortunately the Pope was able to get back on his feet quickly and continue his procession to shouts of “Viva il Papa!” “Long live the Pope!”

The service was absolutely gorgeous. The Mass was said in Latin, the readings and prayers in a variety of modern languages, and the homily in an Italian simple enough for me to grasp the central message. The singing was equally beautiful, all done in the form of Gregorian chants. But for me, the icing on the cake was the recessional—Widor’s Toccata, the very recessional that had been played 6 months before at our wedding!

As we arrived back on base at around 3 AM, Christmas day was a sleepy one. We did not have too many frills—even mealtime was hard to dress up, since much had already sold out at the grocery store on base—but we had each other!

I hope all of you had an equally blessed Christmas. You are all in our thoughts as we continue to celebrate into 2010. A special prayer goes to all those families, military or not, who cannot be together during the holidays; may they be reunited soon and enjoy plentiful support in the meantime.

Alan opening a bottle of vino spumante, next to our version of Christmas canapés (Mom's homemade toasts not included...)

Domani

          Tomorrow--that's a word you hear all the time in Naples.  If you're really unlucky, it'll be dopodomani: "after tomorrow." 

          Even on base, we're starting to see how rampant this mentality is.  Yesterday we went to pick up some dry-cleaning.  (It had been dropped off not Friday, not Thursday, not even Wednesday, but Tuesday.)  The guy behind the counter, who 2 seconds before had been "the guy with the jingling keys hurrying from somewhere he wasn't supposed to be while two anxious clients toyed with the locked door and double-checked their watches," took one look at our ticket and pronounced his verdict: domani. 

          There was just one problem: Alan sure wasn't going to show up to work naked, and besides, our ticket told us otherwise.  We had to speak to a manager, who promised us a 3pm pickup--it was noon at this point, and our plans to head to the city were now shot--so we headed back to TLA (temporary lodging) sweet TLA. 

          "5 minuti."  That's another phrase you'll hear a lot in Italy, roughly translated as "come back in a few, as it's going to be another 20 minutes...if you're lucky."  And that's how long we waited at the dry-cleaners' come 3pm, watching the aforementioned guy behind the counter turn into the "guy whistling as he pulled in loads of clothes from the truck outside, with not a care in the world, as 2 increasingly irritated clients watched 5 minutes-and-then-some pass."  A first load came in--no sign of Alan's uniforms.  A second load came in--still no sign of the uniforms, and it looked like this was it for the day.  But...surprise!  They were hidden behind this dress in the first load!  And with an "oh!" and an "ah!" the guy behind the counter turned into "the guy who bopped himself lightly on the forehead and chuckled at himself for missing the number the first time around...but who did not apologize."

          Turns out the uniforms didn't even look professionally pressed, and it was our turn to negotiate and refuse payment.  Clearly, we had earned it, but it was bittersweet as we had wasted a perfectly good Sunday afternoon, and we would have to return to pick up a second batch of clothes.  Close to 4pm, as we were walking back to TLA, we agreed that while this mentality is to be expected in Italy, there are times when it really shouldn't be accepted.  (Like right now: we've had an issue with our room for the past week.  It's been days that they've been saying someone will come.  I just called the front desk, who promptly told me "the problem has been entered into the system"--to which I countered, "but will it be fixed today?"  This guy is smart--at least he doesn't lie--"Yes, today...99% sure.")

          Despite little kinks here and there, the base is still cozy and convenient...but we are getting really antsy and hoping our move into town isn't too far away.  Most of the realtors have been far from reliable, and in regards to the apartments that could work, there is always some kind of major drawback.  Every day I hope to make progress, but for the moment it's another big dose of domani.  To those who have been asking: as soon as we have details, we will gladly share them.  In the meantime, thanks for your thoughts and your crossed fingers.  :-)

Natale italiano

    
          A week ago, after we had finished the last of our Thanksgiving leftovers, I was having trouble getting in the Christmas spirit… despite all the festive trees around base and the advertisements on every Neapolitan billboard for regali di Natale (Christmas presents). Now, all of a sudden, we are one week into December and inching rapidly toward the 25th. What’s a recent expat living in temporary housing to do? ...and, might I add, with our scant Christmas decorations still boxed up and probably hanging out in the middle of the Atlantic?

          Fortunately, we’re no longer disoriented by our new surroundings; and the weather, sunny and balmy upon our arrival in November, is now reminding us it’s time for coats and scarves. Yesterday Alan was finally able to fix the sound on our laptop—don’t even get me started on our luck with computers!—and we got our Christmas songs going on iTunes. At the Chapel on base, they’ve already lit the second candle on the Advent wreath, and this afternoon we were treated to a wonderful Christmas Cantata by a local Italian choir. It was great to hear the singers first perform a few traditional songs in Latin, then put their Italian touch on a few English crowd-pleasers. After an especially rousing medley of Jingle Bells across the decades, one of the basses belted out a “Ho Ho Ho! Mehhhh-ry Chrrrristmas!”

          I was happy as a clam until that point, but when the encore turned out to be the Hallelujah Chorus, nostalgia hit me for the first time since we landed in Italy. (In college a couple of dear friends and I started attending the yearly performance of the Messiah at Duke Chapel—mind you, it’s the only time of year I'm OK with setting foot on that devilish campus! ;) Unfortunately, I am notorious for doodling on the lengthy program and dreaming of getting muffins at intermission, so while we were all ready for a bit of a break this year I still miss our festive tradition.)  Then, before we could applaud them again, I heard the first few notes of our national anthem and my eyes were no longer dry. There’s just something about hearing the Star Spangled Banner overseas…

          Of course, there's also something about living in Europe.  We are definitely enjoying ourselves here, and in fact have been pleasantly surprised each time we’ve ventured off base. Earlier this week we took a field trip with our orientation class and the Italian guide took us to some fancy shopping districts, gorgeous piazzas, and—by far the best part—the Mergellina port, which offers spectacular views of Vesuvius. And, after days of airplane/cafeteria/hotel kitchenette food, we finally managed an eggplant pizza and (my absolute favorite) hazelnut gelato—definitely worth getting soaked in the rain on our way home!

          Now that we’ve familiarized ourselves a little with various Neapolitan neighborhoods, our next order of business is signing a lease. Hopefully that will be the subject of our next post. We’ve had mixed results in our apartment hunts, but one excellent lead…provided we can ensure the Italian realtors play fair. Cross your fingers for us—here’s to finding the best hotel we can offer you!

top: the Royal Palace, Piazza del Plebiscito        bottom: Mount Vesuvius & the port of Mergellina