Seasons of Love (and Loss)
Rome: February 21, 2015
I wish I could start this post with VIVA ITALIA or congratulazioni Italia for a massive and unexpected home victory against Ireland’s national rugby team in the Six Nations tournament that is taking place over these next three months. But unfortunately, the best I can say is- good effort. I attended my very FIRST rugby match and actual sporting event at Rome’s Olympus stadium two weeks ago. The Eternal City became the scene for a modern day gladiator showdown. It was the first of Italy’s three matches to be played on their home turf. Saturday was the Italy versus Ireland match and the next two games held in mid-March will be against France and Wales. For those of you who know me, know that my favorite part of an actual sporting event – is everything BUT the sporting event. I was so amped for this Italia vs. Ireland match, not so much for the match (someone please explain to me what scrum is!?), but rather for all the flair and fun that goes with the game!
Needless to say, I think I brought enough American enthusiasm for every Italian in the stadium with my face paint, temporary tattoos, festa/fiesta/fete/party cups, party snack mix, mini bottles of prosecco and my completely appropriate cropped, muscle-tee-tank-top in the colors of the Italian flag. I will say though, my ‘flair’ was rivaled by that of the Irish. The Italians may not have a lot of pride when it comes to sporting events, but their fair-skinned, Guinness drinking, European brethren DEFINITELY do. Anna Maria (who organized our whole outing) mentioned to me how last year when Italy played Scotland in the same tournament, all the Scots were in skirts (okay, kilts) and equally as enthusiastic as the Irish for the game. I could definitely see the bagpipes becoming obnoxious.
We sat in the Curva Sud section of the stadio – ideally situated right behind the south goal post (but just a few sections up…) next to large group of rowdy, Southern Italians who were the perfect rugby match companions. They came stocked with their grandmother’s cooking (literally). The guys were equally as excited to sit next to our group and to take advantage of all we had to share in my ‘tote of tricks.’ I attempted to paint professional looking ‘eye-blue’ (as opposed to black) on their faces, but by the end of the match it honestly looked like we were sitting next to a group of Smurfs…I really could have made a quick buck as an impromptu face-painter at the stadium as I must have painted a hundred Italian flags (and a few Irish flags) on adults and children alike. Unfortunately (but as expected) Ireland won the game 24-3 and I'd say it wasn't thanks to the luck of the Irish- but the skill. When the game ended we followed the winners to a very popular pub for English-speaking expats (popular also for its Monday night trivia) – Scholars.
new friends?...
The pub was filled with scholarly, Irish gentlemen from small towns all across Ireland – a common theme being that the majority of whom all now lived in London for work. Scholars must have anticipated an Irish win and the large number of rugby enthusiasts who would follow. Scholars welcomed the Irish with live music, Guinness (only) drink specials, and more security than usual. I think my blog name clearly hints at my drink preferences (not beer), but that Saturday I drank enough Guinness to make the apostrophe in my mother’s maiden name proud. PINTS all around! For once I think my taste in music was appreciated as I spoke to a bloke named Fergus about the first time I visited Ireland and the one thing I came home with was the Irish girl band, B*Witched, debut CD. I then spat out all the lyrics to their one-hit-wonder, C’est La Vie. I did quickly learn though that Fergus did NOT like the nickname Fergie – or the music from the female lead of the Black-Eyed Peas by the same name. Fergus was the youngest of five boys, so honestly I am sure he’s endured worse nicknames from the older four. Another thing I learned that evening, when trying to find ‘common ground’ or start small-talk with someone from Ireland, an apostrophe or an Irish sounding last name thanks to your mother’s father’s mother – does not put you in the same Irish standing as anyone from Ireland – and in fact is an Irish person’s PET PEEVE. I was also surprised most of the people I spoke with did not play rugby at all – but a sport called hurling, the world’s OLDEST field game. The game (once explained to me) actually sounded like another name for the fictional game of quidditch – just sans flying broomsticks.
The rough and tumble fun at the rugby match was well timed as it helped hold me over and distract me from a serious case of the FOMOOMs (Fear Of Missing Out On Mardi-Gras) amidst Instagrams, Facebook posts, snapchats, and all forms of social media documentation from friends and famiglia (including selfies from Sam – my father- while on his horse in Thursday’s Chaos parade).
As most NOLA natives will tell you, the most fun time to visit New Orleans during Carnival is the weekend (and also the Monday night) before Fat Tuesday. And this year – Saturday, February 14th specifically- would have been ideal to be in New Orleans as it would have made Valentine’s Day no big thing but maybe a Popeyes chicken wing from a secret admirer. But alas, I live in Roma; a city associated with love and romance among other things, thus the Festa Degli Innamorati was bound to be a memorable one (at the very least filled with wine and gelato). Anna Maria, the head of our fun activities committee, decided the best way to start off the Valentine’s Day/Carnival Weekend was to BYOB and BYOC (chocolate) to the Italian release of the movie 50 Shades of Grey.
So on Friday the 13th, thirteen (yes, thirteen) of us girls went on a group date with Mr. Christian Trevelyan Grey. And I’ll be honest – I’ve never read the books (gasp!). But it made the movie that much better for me, because I had no IDEA what would happen next (other than a lot of S & M)! One of my younger students, Carlotta, lovessss to know what I am up to on the weekends – and when I told her I was going to see the film – I didn’t expect her to know anything about it. So I was slightly taken a back when my eight year old looked at me almost in disgust after I said I was off to see Cinquanta Sfumature di Grigio (or in inglese 50 Shades of Grey). Not because of the explicit and graphic content in the film I quickly found out, but because grey was her least favorite color. Why would I want to see a movie on such a drab color? Why not see a movie about 50 shades of pink – obviously her favorite color. Extremely relieved that Italian elementary school kids weren’t required to read E.L James sex novels, I told her ‘grey’ really wasn’t my color either and it probably would be a real snooze fest…
Cue the following day, Saturday, February 14th – all the single ladies favorite DAY of the year – Ellie and I were invited to a new and interesting concept for San Valentino – a ‘single & mingle’ party at our friend Anna’s home. There were three rules on the invite you had to abide by (other than kindly NOT ‘watering’ the neighbors potted plants after one too many Peronis…)
Rule number 1 (and the most crucial): You HAD TO BRING a single non-lame-ass friend of the opposite sex.
Rule number 2 (also important): BYOB
Rule number 3: Take part in at least ONE of the many VDAY themed party games (including, but not limited to, 7 minutes in Heaven, spin the bottle, suck & blow, truth or dare, pin-the-tail on your Valentine, etc).
I feel like the rules were an automatic recipe for success – and for some maybe even a story to be shared with their children down the road of how Mom and Dad met (San Valentino willing). The party was a blast and honestly I don’t know why this type of party isn’t thrown more often for those who know how to mingle, especially on a day like Valentine’s Day. Who decided that February 14th was a day reserved exclusively for couples or a day to remind those without an S-O where to find the Ben & Jerry and liquor aisles at the supermarket? But because Anna Maria’s holiday party was such a success not too long ago, the ‘single & mingle’ party had to wind down circa 2 am to appease the non-single or mingling neighbors upstairs. The whole party decided to continue celebrating the Christian martyr (whose origins actually date back to the Roman pagan festival of Lupercalia) at a late night lounge called ‘On the Rox.’ And true to its name, I’d say the majority of the singles at the bar had one too many ‘on the rocks’ to make lasting and meaningful relationships.
Sunday morning I caught the train to the small village of Genzano di Lucania for a proper home-cooked (5 course) meal at the Loguercio’s. Vito & Veronica were kind enough to invite a group of us over for fresh pork, crispy potatoes, homemade soup and some of the best banoffee pie (basically a banana cream pie with toffee and condensed milk) I’ve ever had. And in case that wasn’t enough, there were also brownies and homemade shortbread, from another guest at the luncheon– a Scott named Mary Pat Forrest. Mary Pat (a close friend of Anna Maria’s parents) is in her late seventies and has definitely lived. She was born in Edinburgh, met her husband in Africa while working as a stewardess for South African Airways, lived in New Orleans and had a daughter there (ANOTHER amazing coincidence), and is now an artist living in Perugia. MP also has a home in Biloxi, Mississippi and a number of her paintings definitely show influence from her time down south (check them out HERE)!
You would think after lunch at the Loguercio’s I would have been in a food coma similar to the one John – Anna Maria’s flatmate – had (featured below) during our competitive post coffee/pre-return-to-Roma game of Taboo. But I knew better then to ask for a cappuccino after 10:00 am and shot down a double espresso instead to get myself energized for a board game beat down. And for the record, you know your edition of Taboo is a little outdated when the ‘Brad Pitt’ card is pulled and the word you can’t use is Jennifer Aniston (but go ahead and use Angelina).
As it neared dinner time, we all said our goodbyes and caught the last train back to Roma where I met Ellie for on-the-house bruschetta and a glass of our favorite house red & white wines from where else – Pimms Good. A full Sunday quickly became a Sunday fun-day. Pimms became a bit too crowded for our liking and so we decided to venture out of our comfort zone to a place that was introduced to us by our bestie at Pimms – Simona. As I should have expected, the bar-tending communities of Roma (and in this case, Trastevere) have a very different list of cool bars they frequent. Not only does their industry need cool places to stay open past bar curfew, but it is also an added bonus that they are free of unruly study abroad students and tourists. Obviously Ellie and I don’t associate ourselves with these students (we’re teachers) or tourists anymore. I like to think at this point we’ve definitely mingled our way into the hearts of the cool local circles in our neighborhood. Long story short – Simona gave us the name Garbo and detailed directions to a difficult to find cobblestoned alleyway with no visible doors or even clotheslines covered in Italian undergarments like I’m used to. But we did finally find this ‘Garbo’ with no help from Google Maps (the wrong address is listed apparently on purpose). Once found we had to speak to a Jahan, an Iranian-American who moved to Rome from Los Angeles a few years ago, to let us in. Because we had arrived long before the ‘locals,’ Ellie and I had the whole Garbo to ourselves and became very fast friends with Jahan. He even let me play my iPod (with the new 50 Shades of Grey soundtrack) and try my hand behind the bar – a mini apprenticeship if you will. Unfortunately the bar was not stocked with my favorite handmade vodka – Titos – but by the end of the night I managed to have a serious pow-wow with the owner, Remo (Italian for Remus, the brother of Romulus – the founder of Rome) about his liquor selections.
We decided Tuesday, while still Fat Tuesday, needed to be a day of rest. Thus Ellie and I came to a unanimous vote that we would delay our ‘Mardi Gras’ celebration for this upcoming Tuesday when we have actual visitors from NOLA in town! And HOPEFULLY by then, customs will have finally released my ‘care package’ Sam sent me (filled with Carnival goodies)…
I know I say it all the time, but time here in the ‘Eternal City’ really does fly. It is already the weekend again and it feels like only a few hours ago I was ‘shaking it off’ to Taylor Swift on my VDAY Party playlist at Garbo. I’m only now deciding what to give (or not give) up for Lent – maybe I’ll just give up weekdays or better yet take the advice of my main man, Papa Francesco, who suggested that even better than giving up candy or alcohol, we fast from indifference towards others.
Before another week passes, I’ll say ciao and leave you with these photos from the new 007 movie currently being filmed here in Roma (and not far from where I work!):
Baci from me and signore BOND!
