Thanksgiving in Tuscany

My Thanksgiving day began at 4 'o' clock in the morning in Alicante, when I caught a taxi to the airport. Made my way through security and hopped the plane. We were immediately over the ocean - the dark ocean.

The sun eventually started to peek its head over the brow of the horizon and painted below was a world that looked like something out of the arctic, or out of Narnia during winter, when the White Witch had all the power. Glassy, white clouds that mimicked glaciers so majestic that I thought, for sure, a polar bear would come roaming across the frosty cumulus hills.

Then, the clouds eventually faded away, and the bright blue water waved slightly like a warm blanket in the breeze. The sun then cast a light so white, so dazzling - it was unlike any light I had ever seen before. Something brand new to my 26-year old eyes. Isn't that amazing when that happens to you? When you see something you've never seen before? The sun hit the water and it reflected like the pathway to heaven. Like a sparkling, crystal carpet that stretched to a whole new world. A world you'd want to visit.

I got off the plane at Treviso (a tiny, tiny airport) and found the one (of two) baggage claim areas. I knew I had to buy a ticket for the bus, so I cautiously approached this electronic machine and read through the English instructions as all these people from Alicante, who had been on my flight, watched from behind - not knowing how to work this funny machine either. I had a crowd helping and cheering me on, and finally got my bus ticket! There was this loud cheer! Fantastic!

Hopped the bus to Mestre Train Station and had a bit of trouble finding it, so I asked for help. Italians, let me tell you, are SO friendly. It's just one of the many things I love about them. I grabbed a shot of espresso because I hadn't had coffee all day, and we all know what a travesty that is!


Grabbed a Thanksgiving snack. There was a McDonald's in the train station that I refused to go to. :)


Bought my ticket, then waited at Binario 4 for my train to Florence to arrive. This is me, hoping to the gods that I'm getting on the right train.

It's funny. I touched down in Italy and the tightness between my sternum and my stomach dissolved into a thousand pieces. I was meant to be with this country. Italy is my land, and not just for all the cliche reasons: the beauty, the food, the landscape (sure, all those things are exquisite), but this country, for all its bad and spectacular, looks exactly like me. I have to live here someday, I just know it.

My train to Florence arrived on time (miraculously) and I was on my way to Santa Maria Novella. I think trains are my favorite mode of transportation - they go really really fast, so it makes you feel like you're on an amusement park ride, yet you're safely on the ground and have all this beauty to gaze at while you're having so much fun. It's a shame that I don't look happy at all, isn't it? :)


I had been in contact with Betty all day and we anticipated that I would arrive in Sansepolcro around 4:30pm - perfect timing, which is no small thing when you're talking about Italian transportation. As the train rolled into Tuscany, I felt my heart melt.

I arrived in Arezzo just in time to catch the last bus to Sansepolcro and met a charming woman, Ana, who runs a B&B in Rome. We talked for ages and exchanged information. How wonderful!

My bus pulled into Sansepolcro and I could feel every hair on my neck standing up. Here, I was home. Home to a place I'd fallen in love with so many years ago, during a summer when I needed time away, time to think, time to embrace all the change that was coming my way, time to square my shoulders and evolve into the woman I always hoped I would be...and here I was again. Sansepolcro, my soul.

Betty and John Rose met me at the bus stop and I couldn't have been more happy to see them. On Thanksgiving Day, you always want to be with people close to you, and after spending all day alone, seeing their faces was a beautiful thing. What a warm welcome!

I came home to the Palazzo Alberti, and I will write more about it later. Safe just to say that it is an exquisitely useful, beautiful, and sacred place for those who wish to study here. For Meredith College to have a space in Italy, something that many colleges only dream of, is... Well. It's not only miraculous, but it's also impressive. The Palazzo is actually perfect. I nearly cried when I saw it. And I will post more about it tomorrow.

It was time to get ready for Thanksgiving, so I put on the only nice thing I brought - my favorite new autumn dress and walked arm-in-arm with John Rose to the Servi, where 80+ people would be joining us for our magical evening. To have Thanksgiving in the Servi, the old convent where we stayed 5 years ago, was like a dream.


Candles lined the ancient hallways and lit up the faces of those saints on the frescoes above and the smell of turkey and pumpkin pie filled the air.



Loud voices of children running and adults greeting one another blanketed the space with love and it seemed that everyone felt a sense of being treasured.



And here is the famous Thanksgiving Tree. Everyone had to draw a turkey hand and write everything they were grateful for on the back. My pitiful turkey is shown below - I was thankful for too many things to fit them all on the back on my hand. So much to treasure and be grateful for. So much to inspire awe. Too much awe to hold in my hands.

Here I am with John Rose, and we're both wearing funny hats. What a fun time! We enjoyed nearly every traditional Thanksgiving food--sweet potatoes, turkey, cranberries, vegetables, and lots of wine, of course.

Cutting the turkeys.

The pumpkin pie.

It's glorious to me how at home I feel here. I think the Meredith College presence combined with my utter love for Italy is a blend that is sure to go straight to my heart and slay me. There is a beauty that never sleeps, and an absence of darkness.

I was sitting at the Thanksgiving table admiring the general splendor around, and at one point closed my eyes and just listened and felt. Swallowed the loud Italian, the unstructured English, the glasses clinging together, the hum of the conversations, the smell of Thanksgiving, the warmth from the candles behind me, the knowledge that I would open my eyes and see people I knew. If I could not be home for Thanksgiving, there is no other place I would have rather been.

Near the end of the evening, there was singing to be done - of course. What else would you expect on a Meredith study abroad experience?! The girls stood together, looking beautiful, always hospitable, representing Meredith with great panache, and sang "For the Beauty of the Earth." As the rest of the company followed from the second verse on, I felt something leave my chest and somehow set me free. Don't we all have these moments? Moments in your life when you take a deep breath and let everything go, or when you let something dissolve into your core? It's not that you won't ever feel heavy again, or that things were perfect in that moment when things were so holy that you could touch the face of the eternal, no. It's that you experienced the sacred. Regardless of whether everything was perfect--things usually aren't, if they ever are - but it's not about perfection... There was sanctity floating about the room, and you inhaled it. There were cracks in the walls, and you ran your fingers over them and appreciated them. You took an experience into yourself and it became a part of you, a part of the tapestry of who you are.


The wonder of a Sansepolcro Thanksgiving can hardly be conveyed, but let me just say that it was celestial beyond all telling. To have returned to a place so dear to my heart, on a day when all the U.S. American world is celebrating and giving thanks, has brought back a peace to my soul that I had forgotten. It's a feeling that only Italy has the power to bring out in me.

I crawled into bed last night at 11:30pm and did not awake until 10:45am. Thanks to everyone for letting me sleep. What an enchanting day that I will never, ever, ever forget.

More on my days in Sansepolcro and the Palazzo tomorrow. Buona notte!

Leaving Alicante on The Day of Thanks

I can't help but feel just a little bit sad when it comes time to leave a new place that I've grown to love, but I suppose that that just proves that the experience was indeed quite spectacular!

Last night I had a charming late Spanish dinner with Carla, Juan, Debora (and her Ana), and Berna. Carla's apartment is quite beautiful, so well decorated, and she did such an amazing job with all the delicious food. So wonderful. Great conversations with great people.





As I noted in my last post about Carla's childhood home, she and I both have a thing for the movie "Some Like It Hot." Thus, this poster hangs in her apartment; she's a woman after my own heart.



She even included the last line from the movie as the last line of her thesis: "Well, nobody´s perfect." Hilarious!



Just a funny sidebar, she keeps this magnet on her refrigerator to remind Juan of her philosophy. Go ahead and laugh out loud...it's hilarious! :)



Gazing across the table, all of a sudden there was a toast to be made. Debora lifted her glass and we all followed as she toasted to my visit and for a a good trip for me on Thursday to Italy.

I met her eyes. She looked in and skipped the surface--a connection--and in that moment I realized that I truly had started friendships here. I came to Alicante knowing only one person (mi Carlita) but I am leaving Spain tomorrow with a dozen plus new friends.

Friends.

Truly, how lucky am I? I've spilled so much of myself onto their days and everyone has been so patient and kind. My only wish (really, the only thing I wish for whenever I'm getting ready to leave a new place and new friends) is that I had just a little more time, time to spend with the people who have endeared themselves to me. But, that's always the way it goes...at least for me.

Debora told me today that she´s certain that I will return to Alicante. I think she´s right.

So, what are my plans for Thanksgiving Day, you asked?
Well...

Tomorrow I will journey to my home away from home, Sansepolcro, Italy for Thanksgiving.

The Plan:

4:00am - Wake up. Seriously?
7:15am - Depart Alicante for Treviso, Venice

9:40am - Arrive in Treviso

Then I have 1 hour and 40 minutes to make my way, by bus, to Mestre Train Station and hop a train.

11:27am: Train to Arezzo, with a change of trains in Florence.

2:45pm (we hope!): Arrive in Arezzo and find my way to Sansepolcro, whether that'll be by taxi or bus we are still uncertain.
4:00pm: Hopefully be safe and sound (and exhausted :) ) in Sansepolcro.

I'll be in contact with Betty all day, who will be at the Palazzo, no doubt making preparations for an amazing Thanksgiving afternoon and evening of wonder! Wait for my post about Thanksgiving in Sansepolcro--rest assured that it will be magic!

So many things to be thankful for this year, don't you think? I love my friends. I love my job. I love all the changes that are happening in my life. I love the things that stay constant. I'm blinded by all the love in my life - I have so much of it. And I ache at the thought of the sublime adventure of everything that might be coming down the road for me. I'm grateful for this time in Alicante. For giving my brain a chance to exercise those Spanish language muscles. For the culture shock and adjustment. For the chance to spill myself onto the fabric of these new friends. To have encountered them. For all I've learned and can bring home to my job. For the benefits this trip will provide for our students in the future.

Thankful to be coming home soon to all the love I left there. Thankful to have made new memories. Thankful to have just been here. For the chance to see new things. Hear new sounds. And tuck all these new experiences into the photo album that I carry around in my mind.

What a joy Sansepolcro will be, and what memories Alicante will keep for always! Anyway, I suppose I should get to bed after going out for one last time with Carla and Debora - que flores!

If you´re reading this, just know, that on today of all days, I'm thankful for you!

Happy Thanksgiving! And whisper my name tomorrow over the feast of food and love that you'll enjoy with those closest to you, if you get the chance!

Vale. Adios, Espana!

All in the Families

As most of the U.S. American world prepares for Thanksgiving dinner, I'm caught between three thoughts. One, it's very odd to be removed from all of the usual weekly preparations that the whole world seems to be caught up in around this time in the States. Not bad, just odd. Two, it makes me pause to realize how grateful I am for all the magic in my life; the time that I've spent in Alicante has been enchanting, to say the least. And three, family. Blood family and family of the heart and soul. I'm lucky enough to have both.

Monday night has to be on the list of one of my favorite nights here to date. I met Debora and Carla, and we went to meet Carla´s parents at their piso, just above la Plaza de los Luceros. The door to the apartment opened to a whole new world. The apartment, as Carla says, and she is right, "is like a museum."

Bookshelves full of parchment, vintage games, and old trinkets line the walls. An ancient typewriter on the desk. Tiny books, the size of your thumbnail perched on even tinier bookshelves affixed to the wall. Posters of old movies line the hallways (Carla and I share a love of "Some Like it Hot") and cabinets stuffed to the brim with perfectly organized, vintage beer cans. Nooks and crannies everywhere you look. Colorful rugs tracing throughout the corridors. Bright colors and knickknacks that speak to Carla's childhood. Photos in frames of all this family has ever loved sitting happily everywhere. I would liken their house to the Weasley's in Harry Potter. Perfect. Or brilliant. "I think it's brilliant!"

While Carla's dad visited us intermittently and made food for himself, the four of us (Carla, Debora, Marmen, and I) sat around a table overflowing with pastries and sweets, sipped on coffee, and just talked. We discussed health care, weddings, Carla and Debora's time in high school - everything.

Seeing Carla in her family environment (she and Debora have known each other so long, they practically are family) only endeared her to me more. Precious and sacred to see someone I've come to appreciate so much in her natural world, where she can take off her CIEE hat. So special to get a glimpse of all my friend's years, watching her interact with her charming family. So joyful, and in the stolen seconds I got to spend with them I realized how much I was going to miss all of them when I leave.

We left there and I was passed off to Eva, and we retreated to her flat to eat la cena (Spanish dinner) with her mother who was visiting from Sweden for a few days. Now, a little bit about Eva--she´s originally from Sweden and attended university here in Alicante. She had returned to Sweden for a few years before coming back to Alicante this August to work with CIEE.

Anyway, her flat, positively modern and charming. All the lights were off, only candles were lit, and they had Swedish Christmas music echoing from the laptop. While Eva's cat, Lola, playfully scurried about on the floor (so cute!) we talked over candlelight (and an amazing lasagna that Gunn made) about our Christmas traditions and what life was like in Sweden for Eva and her family. Traditions like: putting hints or riddles on Christmas gifts, skiing to school, that magical time on Christmas Eve when Santa comes to your door - no, really, he does! Such a magical evening! They opened a tiny window into their lives and I gazed in gratefulness and awe at the simplicity and love in the pictures that they painted and the stories that they told. I told them that they kicked off my holiday season in the best way possible, and promised to visit them in Sweden if ever I could.

What a beautiful evening with two beautiful families. My time at CIEE in Alicante has been so professionally enriching, that's the truth. I've learned more about this program than I ever thought possible. I will have so much to share with students and with my colleagues. But even more than that, these people have freely opened up a door into their families, and have let me walk inside and just linger for a while. What a gift! Could I be any more enchanted? Or humbled? Not really.

Pulpo. Because Spain Wouldn't Be Spain Without It!

So, if you've followed my journeys for the past 6 years, you'll know that I have a love/hate relationship with octopus or "pulpo." During my summer in Galicia (Santiago de Compostela) in 2004, I ate pulpo nearly everyday and tried (though I failed) to like it. Then when I went to Italy the following summer, lo and behold, there was pulpo again! This food follows me around, tormenting me with its tentacles and rubbery texture. So today, I decided to face the beast head on. Debora made Galician food for her El Camino de Santiago class and pulpo, of course, was on the menu.

Well, I didn't chicken out, and I asked Carla to take a photo to prove that I faced my arch-nemesis once again!

Me - 1.
Pulpo - 0.

Until next time...

Ick! :)

More Images from My Neighborhood in Alicante

Here are a few pictures of my favorite place to have coffee and write by myself - a small patch of earth surrounded by these enormous, sacred trees. I was told that these trees sprout branches that then turn down towards the earth and root themselves back into the ground. They are out of a fairy tale, if you ask me.


The view from my comfortable seat below.


Taking a walk with me through my neighborhood, there are so many small, delightful things to see.







This is where I buy my lunch everyday - a la Mercadona, just down the way from CIEE on el campus de la universidad.


And this is the most famous street in Alicante, called la Esplanada (Explanada), that stretches along the harbor.

El Campello y El Castillo

This weekend was a time for rest and relaxation, sprinkled with a few charming afternoons with wonderful people - as you can see from the picture above of Bea, me, and mi Carlita! On Saturday morning I decided to sleep very late, seeing as how I got home quite late that night. Then, around 1 in the afternoon, I piled into Paco's car with Loli (I hope I'm spelling that right...), and Carla, and Bea followed us in her car to El Campello, a perfectly pleasant, small beach pueblo located just outside Alicante.





We walked along the beach for a while, the sand so soft to the touch, and I stretched my eyes over the horizon and thought about where I was on the map. Here I am looking out into the Mediterranean, looking east, to lands I've never seen. How magical! Picked up a few rocks and shell from the beach to remember the trip by...



We window shopped, then sat down for a delicious lunch at a local restaurant. Complete with salad and cheese to share, then un plato of fresh swordfish and patatas fritas (french fries, pretty much), and a cafe con leche to finish.





Can I just say that I love the way the Spanish do their coffee? It's incredibly strong, which is lovely, but it's also very tasty with milk. I would NEVER put milk in my coffee in the States, but here, it's actually a dream! And it's always served in a small cup with something just a little bit sweet on the side - so picturesque! And did I mention that it always tastes incredible? Well, it does!





Returned from El Campello in the afternoon and took a long siesta before going out for a bit. Walked through the golden-lit streets for about an hour and then retired to my apartment before it was too late. Opened the doors to both balconies, and spent the night listening to the sounds of the street below.



Then on Sunday, Jennifer and Luke (and Diego, their beautiful son) came to pick me up in la Plaza de Toros to go to the castle that looms over Alicante. We were met there by Manolo, his wife, and two adorable children. We climbed and climbed up the brown, rocky side of this mountain and the view from the top was absolutely breathtaking. Clear, blue ocean painted across the whole of your vision - smooth water, inviting water reminding you that you are small. So beautiful.





The desert mountains stood tall and strong in the distance, almost like guardians to this beautiful city; like they could be called to arms and draw swords at any sight of an enemy. Strange how majestic mountains seem to silence my soul...




Luke took this picture of me at the top of the castle looking down on Alicante. What a privilege it is to gaze from these heights, and to be accompanied by such people, who seem to guide me with cheer and kindness beyond my explanation.





I'm always grateful for how traveling pulls me out of myself and gives me a new perspective on everything: the world, myself, my relationships, my work, my future, and my past. Seeing brand new things for the first time makes you feel like a child on Christmas morning, when you have no idea what's in store for you under the tree, in those packages, but whatever is inside, you know it's going to both surprise and invigorate you.

I leave you with a quote from Elizabeth Gilbert, who wrote "Eat, Pray, Love." I know, cheesy, right? Well, she said it perfectly:

She writes, “…traveling is the great true love of my life...I am loyal and constant in my love for travel, as I have not always been loyal and constant in my other loves... —I just don’t care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it’s mine. Because it looks exactly like me.”

Vale?