personal thoughts

I swallow the words that I want to speak.  They demand to come out, but I put on a blank face and swallow, then I breathe.  The words don't go down willingly, a lump forms in my throat, and then stomach acid is their final protest.  I may not understand Italian, but I get a clear picture when you argue incessantly. 

I closed my eyes and let it happen. 

Post office battle

Just like the title suggest I've been battling with the post office.  America is founded on efficiency.  Whereas Italy has no efficiency so therefore it suffers.  When my mom was here we went to three different post offices each claiming that the packages that my mom sent were somewhere else.  Finally we took the missionaries on Tuesday with us to talk to someone inside the post office.  They didn't have it because I'm suppose to wait for the postal service to leave a note saying they had the package.  Luckily when we came back to the house on Tuesday the note for one of the packages was on the door.  So after my mom left I went back on Thursday to the last post office we had visited to talk to them.  Excuse my language but the lady I talked to was a Bitch.  She didn't even look.  She was unsympathetic to the fact that I was American and didn't understand.  She said the package wasn't there.  Told me to write down my number and to leave.  So I left very angry.  Today (Friday) I took the missionaries back with me.  We got a different lady to help us.  The lady that helped me on Thursday came in and said some rude things, that even the missionaries said she was a Jerk.  Anyways the lady we talked to helped us to locate one of the packages.  They said they would deliver it on Monday or Tuesday.  We will have to see if that happens or not.  I'm rolling my eyes right now because the chances of the something Italian actually working would be a miracle.  Also a side note.  My spelling has become atrocious.  Also Elder Gammel is going home next week.

Mom's visit

Sorry its been a while.  I've been a little busy. Yes, my mom arrived here and left here safely, although I called her and she hasn't picked up yet I'm assuming she made it home okay..... 
Let me start from my train ride.  I caught a train to Verona to meet my mom at the station.  Once I arrived in Verona I waited on a freezing cold bench for my mom.  I waited, and waited, and waited.  I periodically tried calling and texting her phone with no reply.  Finally I was becoming anxious at the thought that maybe something had happened because there was no reply and an hour had passed since she was suppose to be at the station.  I was so worried that I texted her a comment that would definitely warrant a comment from my mother particularly scolding me, anything would be nice, just so I know that she is still alive.  She thankfully called me after the text saying she would be there soon.  Good, because my bum was frozen on that bench.  I was trying to keep body warmth at that point.  When she came into the station, I was incredibly happy.  Believe it or not, but I really needed her here even though it was short.  I have been so stressed with driving clutch and lonely.  We bought tickets back to Trento, and rode back.  We then caught a bus up to the house.  The family left that morning so the house was empty when we arrived.  I made lunch for the both of us.  We were starved.  Notice I made food.  It was edible, and even good.  Starving here as compelled me into cooking food for myself when I can find it.  We went back into town, and I took her to the grocery store.  Okay so they don't have grocery stores like America has.  There largest grocery store is a tiny one room with not a lot inside.  Oh yeah! Before we went to the grocery store I showed her the city center in Trento.  Mostly this visit was a lot of walking.  If you enjoy walking the Italy is your kind of place.  We carried the groceries home, after another bus ride.  I think I was more tired than my mom was even after all of those plane rides.  We then planned our trip to Venice.  With lots of searching we found a hotel/hostel close to San Marco Piazza.  Saturday was castle day! We went to the castle here in Trento.  Which was very beautiful, I hadn't gone inside until then.  We walked around a little bit more after the castle.  Then I took her to a pizzaria where they have delicious pizza.  We ate ourselves sick with whole pizza's each.  We came back to the house via a bus.  Then of course I crashed for another nap.  I have no idea what my problem was.  I was exhausted and needed to sleep I guess, but it seemed like I was always tired.  We then went out again in the late afternoon for hot chocolate.  I don't think mom liked it as much as I did.  The cafe that we went to serves very rich, very thick, and not semi-sweet hot chocolate.  I love it!  I could have five, then become incredibly sick.  Sunday was a furry of travel to Venice.  We caught a train to Verona again, then ran for a connection to Venice.  Last weekend was Carnival weekend (right before lent)  so Venice was jammed packed with people! Holy cow, the streets were so crowded.  We walked the longest way possible from the train station through narrow narrow streets to get to San Marco.  The walk took like two hours of walking through side streets and over bridges, in the shoving crowd of people.  Everyone was wearing masks, or silly costumes, there was a costume contest in the piazza where people dress to the nines in old 16th century clothing.  It was incredible.  Mom and I stopped to get a breather in a mask shoppe.  Just a nook in the wall really, but we found two masks that were beautiful.  Then we too joined the masked crowd of people to San Marco.  Once we found San Marco, and its thousands of people.  The next move was to find our hotel.  Our hotel was a tiny one star a couple off side streets away from the main square.  To say it was a one-star doesn't quite put into perspective the hotel.  It was more of a hostel, with two bathrooms that everyone shared.  Paper thin walls, and no locks on the door.  It was boiling hot inside the room, and the mattress with thin sheets draped over it did little to comfort you. We dropped off our stuff and went back out into the crazy busy streets.  We found a restaurant tucked back onto a separate street that was delicious!  Very good Italian food.  Then we made our way back to San Marco's Piazza where we danced to the loud music, and mostly just people watched.  We had gelatto in the square then decided that the crowd was getting a little out of control so we made our way back to the hotel.  Let me just tell you that, that was the longest night of my life!  I kept waking up feeling like it should be morning, but only ten minutes had passed. All night loud people were coming into the hotel.  After the restless night we woke, and went out into the cold.  The warm sunny day before had turned into a cold rainy/snowy Venice day.  We made our way back to San Marco Piazza where we had delicious chocolate filled croissants and hot chocolate.  Mom and I split up, I went to the Cathedral in San Marco's and mom went to find Milano glass factory.  We were so early that neither had opened up.  I waited in a long line in the freezing cold until they opened the doors.  I walked into a dimly lit cathedral that was beautiful in a different sense.  It was a cold beauty where gold was covering the ceiling and many crucifix, but not a peaceful beauty.  I felt transported to a harsh view of Christ's life.  It was a monument to man's triumph and riches more than a church.  Mom and I met up again down by the water taxi station.  We hopped onto a water taxi and braved the choppy water.  I'm just glad that mom didn't get sea-sick again.   Back at the train station we were freezing, so we sat down on a train leaving for Verona, but missed the correct train and ended up waiting an hour in the train.  Finally back in Verona we caught another train with an hour wait to Trento.  It seemed like Monday was primarily focused on traveling back to Trento.  We came home tired, made dinner and crumb cake.  (crumb cake is my favorite food)  I put mom to bed, as she feel asleep in another movie.  Tuesday we went into the town met the missionaries.  We had pizza together with the missionaries and just talked.  It was nice to have my mom finally meet the two people responsible for saving my sanity on a number of occasions.  We came home and frantically put the house in order, made a cold dinner, and waited for the family to come home.  When they arrived it was so cute.  Bea, and Gabriele were so excited to meet my mom.  They wanted to show her everything.  Their toys, how they play soccer, and everything.  It was very cute.  Bea clung onto my mom, and woke early Wednesday to see her.  I drove Gabriele to school then came back to get ready.  Mom and I walked around Trento and shopped.  We found amazing shoes! When we came back to the house Ilaria had made a delicious lunch.  We ate and talked.  Then we took my mom down to meet Carlo's parents.  I love Carlo's parents, they are very sweet and funny.  Nonna (grandmother)  made my mom a delicious cake.  We talked and laughed some more.  Then it was time for my mom to go to the train station.  Carlo's drove us in his car.  He showed my mom how he's a crazy Italian driver scaring both of us senseless.  I hugged my mom goodbye.  It was hard to say goodbye that time.  It made me homesick, and I contemplated leaving with her.  I miss you mom, and family very much.  Thank you dad for letting mom come.  It really meant a lot to me. 

Victory dance

Today has been a wonderful day. I have conquered multiple fears, and survived driving school.  In fact I passed driving school with an A+.    I had a hard time last night sleeping because this morning I was going to drive Gabriele to school in the manual car.  But we did it! I prayed like crazy, and I know Heavenly Father was helping me.  Next I went to Italian lessons with the crazy lady.  I remember now what else about her drives me nuts.  Her shaking her pen and leg like crazy.  It makes it hard to focus when the teachers hand is going five hundred miles per minute.  I skipped the pastries.  (I still think they are out to get me) I decided instead to buy a pizza.  This is also new for me since I don't eat out unless I have a native Italian to order for me. Today I bought a pizza!  Picture going into a little pizzaria next to a cathedral, eating hot homemade pizza that's super delicious.  I also scoped out some places I want to take my mom when she comes.  I'm super excited.  Just one more day then I go to Verona to pick her up!

Facing Fears One Gear At A Time

Yes, I had another battle with driving stick.  The red car is needed else where, and I am suppose to drive manual. First let me tell you how Sunday went.  Instead of going to church I was going to go with the family skiing or sledding.  It was too cold, and snowing heavily in the mountain so it was decided that instead we were going to go to lunch with friends.  The friends were another couple and their two children really close in age with Gabriele and Bea.  We drove up into the mountain, and around this gorgeous lake covered in fog.  It was beautiful.  The water was a cold dark grey, and the fog made it appear that the lake was floating and went out forever into nothingness.  As always when in the car with Carlo driving the kids chant for him to drive like a maniac thus scaring the crap out of me.  I play along like I don't understand why they keep saying my name.  I scream yes in fear, but also because the kids laugh themselves silly.  Finally we made it to the restaurant.  It was a beautiful restaurant out by the lake road, and away from anything else.  Bea had fallen asleep in the car, and once woken to go inside she remained quiet and shy. So I sat by here while the couples talked and laughed (with some wine and ale).  Bea was fascinated by a roll of tape that the other couple brought in a coloring supplies bag for their daughter.  She asked repetitively for me to cut the tape so she could tape her doll Lorenzo.  The most delicious food came.  I was adventurous enough to try this bright purple cabbage thing that tasted wonderful.  The kids played all through lunch.  Then came dessert!  Oh can I just say there is such a thing as a dessert that makes you want to cry and laugh because it's the most delicious thing ever.  Tirimisu at this restaurant was that dessert.  It had a small bowl of a chocolate cake/ice cream/ pudding that was so rich and creamy but firm deliciousness.  Then an enormous cup that was filled with cake hidden by creamy vanilla pudding with crated chocolate over it.  Oh my goodness it was so delicious.  I must have gained five pounds just by eating it, but I would do it again in a heart beat if offered.  Why is it that I always choose the wrong apparel?  I have no idea.  Maybe its because everything is said in another language and I have no idea half the time whats going on.  That's possibly the reason.  But whatever the conclusive answer to the question is, it was decided to take a stroll around one of the lakes close by.  I wore my new oxfords which I had been trying to break in, and was hoping I wouldn't get another blister for wearing them.  But I agreed and we went to the lake.  The lake was frozen solid, and in face was so solid we went walking on it.  I have never seen a lake so frozen you could walk on it.  It was pretty cool.  Unfortunately Ilaria slipped and hit her head and shoulder which I'm still kind of worried about.  We walked for a bit up by the playground while the kids played.  It was so bitter cold my feet I was afraid were going to have frost bite they were hurting so bad from the cold.  Finally we turned to go home.  With more screams from me and laughter from the kids.  The other couple came to the house and the kids played for a bit.  Once they left this is where I began to panic.  DRIVING LESSONS.  Let me tell you three strikes against me as a manual driver.  One:  I'm a women, which to my sexes distress we are fairly bad drivers.  We can't help it, we multitask, we have so much on our minds that we can't help that we are distracted.  Two: I'm blond.  I have never used that as an excuse before because hair color doesn't impede anything.  Much to my annoyance if you do suggest my hair color for a lack of judgement on my part.  Three:  I've had no experience with manual.  I mean I had a lesson or two from my parents.  But come on! In America we drive with rules, and wide roads.  Here in Italy its a free-for-all.  Narrow roads, lines and signs that no one obeys, and can I just say bazillion hills that are impertinently steep.  Side note: Dad if I ever complained about you when you were teaching me to drive, I take it all back.  It's harder to learn from someone that only speaks a couple words in English.  Carlo took me to a flat, long, empty road with no cars.  There I practiced starting over and over again, because that's my greatest weakness besides hills.  Over and over again with Carlo trying to explain the clutch and me sweating profusely because I can't breathe I'm so worried.  After I somewhat mastered that we went to a small hill that wasn't anything really at all and tried starting on that.  Over and over again with the engine sputtering, and me praying with all my heart to just get the blasted car moving.  I found a hidden strength.  I'm excellent at putting the car in reverse and driving.  Too bad I can't use that more often.  Finally we ended thank goodness, with the hope that today (Monday) we will try again.  Yay, lucky me. (I meant that with complete sarcasm).   
Now for the grand finale!  MY MOM IS COMING TO VISIT ME THIS WEEKEND! I am so excited!!!!!!!!

?

I opened my blog up, and the thought came to my mind of welcoming an old friend.  My little corner piece of sanity. 
I can't think of a title that would fit this because it's just a jumble of random thoughts.  On last Sunday as I walked in the bitter Italian cold I thought about the rampant pigeon problem here.  The pigeons are so abundant, and so tame that one could literally bend down and pick one up without much difficulty.  As I walk on the streets, pigeons are galore and I could kick one before it made up its mind that it should fly away. 
Yesterday morning I felt completely free.  I left the house and walked past the bus stop and further down.  A little piece of myself came into clarity.  I enjoy walking especially when it resolves my stress.  I haven't slept, and truly slept for a while.  It doesn't matter how early I go to bed or taking Zanix, I still awake to a little anxiety and tiredness. 
Also two things.  The first being when in doubt buy some pastries.  Because it will cheer you up, and it also buys you time to think.  Secondly don't question it, it's an Italian thing just nod your head and go with it. 
On Tuesday all the pastry shops in Trento had come into cahoots to utterly embarrass me.  Luckily for me, I also know when to just walk away.  When in doubt walk away.  I haven't been in a pastry shop since.  Tomorrow maybe I'll brave one to see if I'm allowed in or not.  (A BRIEF EXPLANATION)  I tried to go into a pastry shop, the first time I couldn't figure out how to open the door.  There were other customers inside who gawked at me awkwardly, but none went to my aid.  After trying to push the handle-less door the second time I gave up and walked away with my face flushed.  The second time that same day only a couple blocks away in a nook in the wall pastry shop.  I braved the door, and went inside.  After trying to say a number for the small pastries, the lady filled up a plate with huge pastries.  These were not the usual that I buy but I shrugged my shoulder.  At least I made it inside the shop this time right?  Wrong!  After weighing the delicious pastries, she told me the price.  It was quite a bit higher than I'm use to for pastries.  But I handed her my card.  Which she shook her head, cash only.  Well, what to do, I mumbled sorry.  Then walked out the door leaving her standing there. 
Today I wish for something other than peanut butter, which I still really want.  I wish my mom was here laughing with me or at me.  That we could go together to be silly Americans. 

Italian Lessons start a little rocky

My first Italian lesson was on Wednesday morning.  Ilaria showed me on the map where it was and gave me the name Institution Dante something, and the number was 94.  So I got off the bus thirty minutes early at the castle.  I start walking to a corner to see the street name to check if this was the correct street.  Once on the corner I pulled out my map and begin trying to figure where the heck I should go.  A kind old man stops and starts talking to me in Italian.  Blast it! I'm foiled again by my lack of Italian thus why I'm trying to get to an Italian class.  I point to the street on the map that I'm trying to get to.  The old man says something in Italian to my blank face, pulls out some glasses and starts speaking in Italian.  He gestures down the street with his hands.  Which I assume is about as helpful as he's going to be.  He starts walking and then stops and motions for me to follow him.  Thankfully he answers my prayers and leads me to the correct street.  So then I resume the task of trying to find the blasted building, the number anything that might be an institution.  Nothing.  After my second time walking up and down both sides of the street I stop and ask a lady that's passing.  Who I might note did not look at all happy to help me, let alone be bothered.  She pointed down the street from which I had just come.  She then walked off.  I guess I could try one more time I sighed and slowly walked after her as I studied buildings.  Toward the end of the narrow street she sees me again and has me follow her to the corner where she points to a building across a super busy street.  That can't be it, but I thank the lady anyways, and decidedly turn around to head back up the street.  I call Ilaria she tells me one side of the street is odd numbers the other even.  Which I thought was ironic because the numbers didn't follow a pattern it went from 93-68 in five steps and two buildings but whatever.  Italians you love to make things just a tad bit harder.  So I go to the opposite side of the street under arches are shops set under the larger buildings.  I've already checked this side of the street but now I pay extreme close attention to numbers.  Finally I find 94 above an arched doorway that leads into a court yard.  I make my way into it slowly because I still have twenty minutes until I'm suppose to be there which is fifteen minutes before the lesson even begins.  I stand in the court yard surrounded by mix-matched buildings of different colors.  The number 94 is above a doorway that looks like it hasn't been open in years, with the window next to it heavily barred and covered in cobwebs.  I don't think it's that door so I look around.  There's stairs that lead up and out of sight.  I decided to buy some pastries and wait a bit then try the door up above.  I come back with my pastries and slowly eat them.  Another older gentleman comes into the court yard.  I feel incredibly conspicuous just standing there eating pastries like a pig.  So I walk up the stairs because he's staring at me.  I'm standing up there out of sight eating pastries when he comes up the stairs.  I have no where to go, and now I feel even more like an idiot.  He says something to me in Italian.  Which I wave off and say Instituto or some such none sense hoping it sounded Italian.  He motions for me to come closer to the door that he now opened into the building.  I can't just ignore him as he motions for me, so I do the sensible thing allowing any chances of murder to occur I step inside the building after him.  Thankfully it doesn't come to murder and inside is like a lobby with multiple doors.  He points to the door closer to me which has the name of the institution on it.  Mind you I'm still eating pastries awkwardly now.  He goes to another door which I assume is his home door.  He just watches me waiting for me to ring the bell to the class.  I'm still ten minutes early, and eating pastries, but with an old man staring me down I feel obligated to ring the bell and put away my breakfast.  A man opens the door, he doesn't speak English, but I try to mime a class.  He has me follow him, and a lady appears.  She is incredibly weird.  I think she can speak like five languages, so everything to me sounds the same, like an incredible mumbler of all languages.  There are plaques on the wall, and certificates.  They hand me some papers to fill out, and explain because none of them are in English.  So how in the heck am I suppose to know what I'm truly signing.  But sign away I do yay me.  I wait for the other lesson to get over with, so I wait for the lady to come back sitting uncomfortably by the guy.  Next it's my turn to go in.  Oh side note! I can't pay with a credit card, and I need to pay full up front cash.  Doesn't that scream rip off, scheme or something?  I go up into the class.  Now I am paying for a private class with the lady, but there are two girls in there.  One Russian, you know the type that's perfectly beautiful looking but in an incredible scary kind of way.  Like she might just be a spy and kill me in a matter of seconds because she looks like she is constantly eyeing me up in case she needs to kill me.   The other is an American girl that is apparently the cousin or niece of the lady teaching the class.  The girl is a nanny as well for a family, and hails from California.  I feel uncomfortable because both girls are fairly fluent in Italian, and I sound like an idiot as I try to pronounce the words.  Okay, so basically the lessons are me listening to a tape of someone saying words, then I repeat the words back, then another cd of words in which I'm suppose to try to guess how to spell the words.  I'm not quite sure if this will be helpful at all, but I guess if they have plaques and two girls that speak Italian then who am I to judge right?  Well that was the Italian lesson, I'm not excited about the next one.  
Side note, something happened last night (Friday night), I'm going to talk to the missionaries to get their advice on what I should do.