Paderno del Grappa -- see Links for pictures of the town, our apartment, and incredible Mount Grappa!
While I filled you in a bit about our arrival several postings below, I now finally have some time to write more about our Italian home for the next several months. It’s difficult to know where to begin; perhaps describing the surroundings is the best way.
Paderno is a small town or village of about 2000 people with the CIMBA campus located on the Instituo Filipin, an Italian boarding school. Paderno has a pharmacy; a “banging” pizzeria; a scrumptious bakery; two tabacchi stores (little grocery stores); a gift-arts store; a municipal building (bureaucracy rules here); a bell tower (w/ hourly chimes of the bells); a church (every town has one – or two); a post office; a bank (with a multi-lingual ATM); a spa (yes, Abbey & I may visit that for a massage); quite a few houses and apartments, all of which feature window boxes or gardens of flowers and herbs; and several small farms on the immediate outskirts. The center of town is the roundabout that directs one to nearby Asolo, Crespano, Fonte, and Castelcucco.
Mount Grappa dominates the skyline, visible from every angle in the area. Part of the impressive Dolomite range, it thrusts upward with jagged rocks here and smooth grassy rolls there. We have an incredible view from our front balcony and living room. The storms – and there have been several since we’ve been here – are amazing to watch: the clouds gather and swirl, find a direction, and then race toward the unsuspecting target. The rain follows quickly. It’s thrilling to watch the storms move across the mountain tops or through the crevices facing us. Sometimes the rain seems to be coming directly toward us and suddenly it will veer south to the Veneto plain and Verona.
Veneto weather changes quickly: an overcast morning gives way to lovely sun by 10 to intense sun by 3 to a sudden downpour at 6 to a cool clear evening by 9. Perhaps this is typical for fall; perhaps it’s because of the mountains. Either way, I have no doubt but that it keeps the weather forecasters guessing. When the thunderstorms come, the thunder is incessant, seemingly uncoordinated with the lightening be it cloud to cloud or brilliant ground strikes. The nights have been cooler the last few days, probably about 50-60∘ F.
Our apartment is quite nice. If you look at the pictures, our apartment is on end of the second floor of the pinkish terra cotta colored building. Our wonderful neighbors from Oregon are in the next-door apartment. We share a landing and a front balcony. The living/dining/kitchen combo is very spacious. Not much countertop room in the kitchen which is sometimes inconvenient, and we do have to rethink cooking strategies as we do not have a full-sized oven, only a toaster oven. The refrigerator is a good size, just a little smaller than we typically have, and it has a freezer. Gas cooktop is great, though I keep turning on the wrong burner!!!! Abbey and I have rearranged furniture to create cozy nooks, work spaces, and eating areas in this large room. It’s beginning to feel like a home.
The two bedrooms are roomy with wardrobes and a dresser. Our bedroom has a desk as well. The main bathroom (with a shower) is between the two bedrooms; the girls have a good-sized “powder room” off their bedroom. A door separates the living area from the sleeping and bath area which is nice for privacy and quiet. I love the windows, even though they’re casement and I prefer double-hung. They are big and open so easily. Each has functional shutters we can shut partially or completely to block hot sun or shelter from rain with the windows still open.
A small balcony off the dining/kitchen section is where we hang the laundry. Few people have dryers in Italy because of the high energy costs. No dishwashers either (except for people). When laundry isn’t drying, the balcony is a wonderful place to sit. It overlooks our downstairs neighbor’s back yard and her Golden Retriever, Giacomo – who loves to play ball and be petted. Across the driveway is a large vegetable garden, where a man (who has now learned to smile and wave to our greetings) spends many mornings and evenings tending to the plants. He must have visited the Sunday market in Crespano and purchased some seedlings for we saw new plants there on Tuesday.
A mother, grandmother, and two young children (about 5) live in the larger downstairs apartment that is in the golden yellow building. The grandmother is very pleasant, and Emma and her friend Jo-Jo have played a bit with the kids. One of the girls is Italian; the other is American. We’re not sure what the connection is exactly. Abbey had fun practicing her Italian on the one girl.
On Saturday, Tim and I walked to the post office. I was so proud that I could ask for “due francobolli per stati uniti, per favore” (two stamps for the United States please). Hey, it’s not much, but I’m learning! On our way back, we met Giorgio, who is the complex’s handyman and gardener. I was pleasantly surprised that he initiated the conversation after we smiled and said Buongiorno (I haven’t found the Italians in general to be quite as friendly as the French). “My name is Giorgio,” he said with a strong accent. “Mi chiamo, Charlene. Piacere,” I replied. (My name is Charlene; pleased to meet you). He was working in the garden. Although he knows only a few words of English and we know only a few words of Italian at this point, we managed to communicate quite well: Giorgio grew up in a small town near Paderno and has (or had, I don’t enough verb tenses) 6 brothers and sisters; he recommends our taking the train to Castelfranco for a day in Venice, which is evidently one of his favorite places in the Veneto; he likes the beach (or maybe suggested it to us, I’m not sure which); asked if the girls he had seen were our daughters; and thought it would rain today (it did). What words were unable to accomplish, hand motions usually did and mimes did. If nothing else, we made a friend.
Italian hours of business live up to their reputation of being unpredictable with regard to hours. Most close on Wednesday afternoons; however, some close on Monday. Still there are others who choose Tuesday morning. To make it more a guessing game for the unsuspecting public, some remain open when the sign says “Chiuso” (closed) and some close when the sign reads “Aperto” (open). Normale.
We went to the Sunday market in Crespano again yesterday – a 20-minute walk away. Although the weather wasn’t cooperative with rain, we had a good time buying vegetables, fruit, and cheese. Only one mistake with the apples as the vendor thought we said tre mele (3 apples) and we said tre kilo di mele (3 kilos of apples, which disappear in a week in this house!). Our cheese vendor was an absolute hoot! He could tell from our pitiful butchering of the Italian language and of course our translation books, that we were not Italians. He asked where we were from. We told him “Delaware, America.” Then he wanted to know where Delaware was (just like many Americans not from Delaware ask!!!), and we drew a little map showing the state between New York/Philadelphia and Washington DC. Well, he was tickled; you would have thought we were from Mars. He hollers to his wife – “Hey, they are from Dela-ware” – emphasizing the syllable break and in Italian, of course. She came out, said “goodby” and smiled. No, she wasn’t being rude. The Italian “ciao” is both hello and goodby, so Italians who don’t know much English will often say “goodby” for “hello” and vice versa. Then our vendor tells some of the regulars standing in line that we are from “Dela-ware.” I suspect we were the first Delawareans he had ever met. Of course, he was the first Crespano cheese vendor we had met!! He had us tasted each cheese to make sure we liked it. So we did well in getting some excellent local goat (capra) and sheep (pecorino) cheese (fromaggio), and two types of asiago. He wanted to know if we were taking it home to “Dela-ware,” a question we didn’t at first understand until Abbey picked up on “import” and one of the regulars who knew some English helped. I explained that we abiamo in Paderno per otto mesi (we are living in Paderno for 8 months). Bienvenuto (welcome), he said. As we packed our cheeses into our backpacks, he began to help others, but turned as we left the stand: “Arriverderci, ciao Dela-ware,” he yelled. I think we will go back many times!
1 comment:
Oh Char, I just had such a great time with that post you wrote! Blowing off the ride to Philly this mid-Wednesday morning, I decided to grab another cup of coffee and really sit down to enjoy the blog...Weirdly enough, for some reason I was reading this latest post in the narrator's voice of Kevin Costner!! I'm thinking as I'm reading, who the hell is narrating for me? Then I remembered Dances With Wolves, and Costner's voice over as he's penning his daily journal. I haven't watched it in years, and now I must soon. One of my most favorite movies ever. So, let's find out whomever wrote that screenplay; maybe here's where you make your splash into publishing! (Frankenstein dissertation and later book notwithstanding.) By the way, I still can't get myself to pick up Tuscan Sun anymore; it's a bit drrrrrrrrrry. So feel free to write your own version instead.
Tim, The market's still crumbling-- but our Phils remain planted in first place by half a game!
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