Last night Sandro made sphaghetti carbonara which I could tell he was quite proud of because he told me to tell my mom and brothers that he was making that for dinner. And I have to admit, he should be proud because it was the best, and probablt the fattiest sphaghetti carbonara I have ever had. Sorry Skidmore. The eggs came right from the chicken coop, the plentiful olive oil from his olive grove and the bacon was incredibly savory. Sandro likes to make fun of me because I always say I am very hungry and yet I can never finish what he puts on my plate. Last night he wanted me to eat sausage and salad too but I simply could not fit it in my belly! Dinner is always accompanied by wine and he prefers an enormous jug of white wine from puglia that only costs 1E! Incredble!
sunday was my first day on the farm and it turned out to be a very long day because of the traveling and my inability to sleep on anything that does not allows me to be horizontally renclined. So I got to Logan at 3pm Saturday, boarded British Air at 6pm and arrived in London at 12am (Boston time), 5am (London time). British Air was fantastic (Im easily impressed). They offered free wine with dinner...who would ever deny that! The dinner was also surprisingly delicious (chicken and rice), although when traveling I don't have much of an appetite because Im so focused on where I am going. I sat next to a very nice woman who said she was born in N. Africa, grew up in France and now lives in Woburn, MA (what an adventurous life). The plane had a huge list of movies to watch, much to my approval since I cant sleep on planes :) I arrived in Rome at 4.30am (Boston time), 10.30am (Rome time). On the flight from London to Rome I met a guy who is doing a graduate program in Rome and depending on when I can get into Rome, I might be able to see him again and the people that are on his program. It will be nice to have some american comrades in a city where no one knows what I am saying! I definitely have a newfound respect for foreign tourists and immigrants, It is incredibly scary being in a place where it is so difficult to ask a question and get your point across. Once I got to Rome I had to cat around my enormous suitcase, small duffel bag and hiking backpack. Im realizing that I packed enough clothing for a lifetime! I think I could wear a dirty outfit everyday for six weeks and I stil wouldnt have to do laundry! One word of advice for fellow travelers-pack lightly! Im pretty sure I was laughed at by just about every person I talked to. I looked like quite a fool, not to mention my arms felt like they were going to fall off! I switched the arm that was pulling my "life in a box" about every twenty seconds or so because the burn was constantly coursing from bicep to forearm. More time pumping iron would have done me well. After about ten changes of direction, I finally found the train station and made it onto the train headed to Fara Sabina. Little did I know that my train ticket involved a transfer at a station unbeknownst to me. Awesome. I was sitting in my seat when I heard the conductor speaking fervently about Fara Sabina. It sounded something like "gsgsfirfnkndkf, Fara Sabina, fhurgbkanshr, Fara Sabina, fheihfrfn". Somehow I managed to take from all the choas that I needed to get off at the next stop and transfer to the train on platform 1. With my heart in my throat, confuded as shit, I raced around asking people where platform 1 was, and incredibly speaking mostly english, random itlalian words inserted here and there and using lots of hand gestures, I managed to make it to the platform only to realize that I had already missed my train. Damn. It is possible that I have never been so nervous in my life...although it was a different kind of nervous. The kind where you know that there is no one coming to your rescue and no on to make sure you are ok. Its quite a strange feeling after living at home for 18 years and then at a very cozy, safe school. Let me tell you all, traveling solo is not for the faint of heart. Luckily, I am not faint of heart. So there I was, frantic yet trying to stay calm, 50 lb. suitcase in tow and sleepless since the morning before. I dont remember whether I asked him for help or he just noticed my obvious distress and offered his help, but regardless a man named Roberto literally came to my rescue. He helped me carry my bags back down the stairs, purchase a ticket to the right place, and he even taught me useful phrases such as "mi dispace, io non capiro italiano. Io parla inglesee". I dont know if it was out of pity or sheer friendliness but he bought me a water, thank God since it was at least 95 degrees out. I literally sweat through my entire shirt! Roberto got me on the train, and with the help of two other passengers, Sandro was called via cellphone and I was shown where to get off. I was picked up in a bright blue van (I know, sounds pretty sketch) and I was taken "home" by Sandro and his two adorable sons Massimo (3) and Lino (5). In order to all fit, Massimo sat on my lap where he promptly fell asleep and Lino leaned against my shoulder where he too fell asleep for the ride home. I cant describe how beautiful the scenery was as I rode to the farm, but I guess the best way to describe it is in italian: Molto Bella. We rode down a steep country rode , so steep that I thought at any minute me and Massimo would go flying out the window! Endless fields and mountains and stone houses as far as the eye could see and layer upon layer of green. Sandro was very excited when I managed to tell him that my mother's family is from Abruzzi (the best region in his opinion). Sandro lives in a small stone house with wooden latch doors and wind chimes made out of the seashells that are found in his soil. My room is at the front of the house and it locks with an ancient key, whicH I wish I could keep. His dog, sly, lovingly known as ceecho, loves to sleep under the bed where it is nice and cool, and in the morning he comes wobbling to my feet, his entire body quivering with excitement. This morning after breakfast I donned my shades (unnecessary for the early sun, but quite necessary for the stupid, eye obsesses bugs=. I was followed to the onion patch by the feisty black cat who made it impossible to work as it nipped at my hands and jumped into my lap every time I kelt down to pull some weeks. I stupidly put the hoe I use to pull weeds, in the shade the night before. I found the shed locked upon morning chores. Wonderful. So, I pulled the weeds by hand and promptly cut my finger on a stupid prickly weed. Ok, so once again I am not done writing, but I simply do not have it in me to stay up and write any longer! Ill keep writing tomorrow :)
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