Well, it appears the next week has begun with a bang.
I am still struggling to figure out how I will be able to travel when I really can't even convince housing that I would like to live in an apartment and not the Navy Lodge. As with all things I am discovering, the Italian time is a whole different way of living. Reality is suspended as Italians celebrate not only their holidays, and religious holidays, but also now American holidays. I find that I struggle with the concept of taking a month long vacation in the hottest month of the year. August to me has always been a month to hide in the recesses of an air conditioned building. '
Not so here. They love to feel the sweat. Its their way of knowing they are truly alive, living and breathing each moment to the fullest.
Which certainly brings up the lack of deodorant question.
But these laid back people have the most beautiful country and it is of that of which I must write.
Saturday brought a lovely wine tasting tour of the vineyards on Mount Vesuvius. The Neapolitan culture can aptly be described as a culture that lives on the edge. One of the most active volcanoes has houses built almost to the top. The many vineyards that creep up the sides of the mountain relish this complexity, and the vineyard owners claim it gives the soil the richness from the lava and ash that is then laced throughout their wines. One sip of each one and you have to give them credit for their fearlessness; the wines are magnificent and they are bred with the knowledge that if the volcano erupts, the delicious tastes will be lost forever.
I have to say that one of my great delights in this world is trying different wines. I love to notice the different tastes and textures of the grapes and to learn their heritage. I love how I feel when I sip a crisp white wine or the calm that washes over me when the first taste of a warm red wine (or rosso as they say here) crosses my lips. And I certainly chose the right place for the exploration of such tastes. If you turn around any corner here, their are vines of grapes being grown everywhere. Landlords of apartments I looked at had their apparatus for the making of wines pushed to the side to let me in to see their places. Wines and pizza are the official tastes of Napoli and I have to say, who needs more than this?
I have been blessed to have made wonderful friends so far but like I said before, the struggle of working shifts while everyone else I know is working Monday through Friday is certainly an unanticipated challenge. I just know I need to make the most of every minute off.
Wish me luck in my adventures this week!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Sorry this has taken awhile.
Dear friends,
I apologize for the tardiness of this latest entry. The only excuse I have to offer is that I have been a survivor. For those who have made overseas moves (and the subsequent frustration of the housing office to say the least) know that to survive is everything. I have been apartment hunting in the Pozzuoli area of Napoli. This was told to me to be where the youngish non-married officers live. Being one such individual, I naturally gravitated to that area.
But not alone.
With my trusty Courtney at my side (the only married youngish person in Pozzuoli), we went forth to seek and decide what apartments would be the ones for me.
I learned some valuable lessons.
1) Never expect the realtors' cars to be air conditioned. That is a silly assumption.
2) Never travel alone. Courtney and I were afraid of certain abduction at one point and she actually texted Dave to have a last known whereabouts on us if we never returned.
3) Italian women wheeze. Yes, like instead of breathing. I was trying to breath out when one realtor was breathing in so as to avoid as much harmful toxin filled air as I could.
4) If the realtor has a son, she will pawn you off on him.
5) If the said realtor's son already has a girlfriend and you try and explain that maybe she will end up liking his girlfriend, the realtor may stop stop driving on a highway to stare at you as if you are insane.
6) If a place looks like its in the middle of nowhere, no matter what the realtor says, it IS in the middle of nowhere.
7) When you give a realtor your number, and they happen to like you (and hope to eventually get you married to their son) they will call you in the Navy Lodge once a day to check on you and remind you that they still don't like the son's girlfriend. How could she? she asks me. The girlfriend doesn't go to church!
8)Just because you have selected a place and you put a contract on it does NOT mean you will move in soon. On the contrary, it means they now have a starting point for all their meetings, inspections, coffee breaks, more meetings and more inspections and one last coffee break. Then you may move in to the apartment in 2 months. God willing.
These are just a few of the hard earns lessons to getting an apartment in Naples. It's even more fun to go to the housing office. They all stare at you (tall girl in uniform...they call all their friends in to stare) and then they keep sending you to different counselors til you finally sit down with one who speaks a little English. Conversations include various "ummm...ehhhhh...how you say....ummmm....ehhhh....ahhh...ok?" that's a good sentence.
There will be more to come. I am just burned out reliving those experiences.
I apologize for the tardiness of this latest entry. The only excuse I have to offer is that I have been a survivor. For those who have made overseas moves (and the subsequent frustration of the housing office to say the least) know that to survive is everything. I have been apartment hunting in the Pozzuoli area of Napoli. This was told to me to be where the youngish non-married officers live. Being one such individual, I naturally gravitated to that area.
But not alone.
With my trusty Courtney at my side (the only married youngish person in Pozzuoli), we went forth to seek and decide what apartments would be the ones for me.
I learned some valuable lessons.
1) Never expect the realtors' cars to be air conditioned. That is a silly assumption.
2) Never travel alone. Courtney and I were afraid of certain abduction at one point and she actually texted Dave to have a last known whereabouts on us if we never returned.
3) Italian women wheeze. Yes, like instead of breathing. I was trying to breath out when one realtor was breathing in so as to avoid as much harmful toxin filled air as I could.
4) If the realtor has a son, she will pawn you off on him.
5) If the said realtor's son already has a girlfriend and you try and explain that maybe she will end up liking his girlfriend, the realtor may stop stop driving on a highway to stare at you as if you are insane.
6) If a place looks like its in the middle of nowhere, no matter what the realtor says, it IS in the middle of nowhere.
7) When you give a realtor your number, and they happen to like you (and hope to eventually get you married to their son) they will call you in the Navy Lodge once a day to check on you and remind you that they still don't like the son's girlfriend. How could she? she asks me. The girlfriend doesn't go to church!
8)Just because you have selected a place and you put a contract on it does NOT mean you will move in soon. On the contrary, it means they now have a starting point for all their meetings, inspections, coffee breaks, more meetings and more inspections and one last coffee break. Then you may move in to the apartment in 2 months. God willing.
These are just a few of the hard earns lessons to getting an apartment in Naples. It's even more fun to go to the housing office. They all stare at you (tall girl in uniform...they call all their friends in to stare) and then they keep sending you to different counselors til you finally sit down with one who speaks a little English. Conversations include various "ummm...ehhhhh...how you say....ummmm....ehhhh....ahhh...ok?" that's a good sentence.
There will be more to come. I am just burned out reliving those experiences.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
working on being here a week...
I have discovered there are pros as well as cons to living by myself in a suite in a Navy Lodge. --The first pro has been dancing by myself. Noone is here, so if I decided my hips are not gonna lie like my girl Shakira, there is noone here to complain.
-The first con, however, is the inability to do laundry when I want to. Waiting outside of a room with coin operated machines buzzing happily is a definite downside to my temporary quarters. Gone are the days when I would roll downstairs in William's house, clandestinely move his laundry from the washing machine, do my laundry, then put his stuff right back in the washer.
I mourn the loss of such wonderful schemes.
-A definite pro is that when I leave each morning the magic fairy who cleans up comes in and gives me new towels.
-Another pro is that if I so chose, I could choose to not make my bed one day. And while I never chose that, it's nice to have that option there.
-A con is the fact that I am trapped here on the support site base with a bird's eye view of Italy.
-A pro is that I am not having to pump gas.
- A con is that the water is making me break out. So as if the stress of a transcontinental move wasn't enough, the water is putting the final nail in the proverbial coffin of my skin.
-The best pro is that when I am a mooch nowadays it's not because it is in my nature to mooch (which it is). It is because everyone mooches when stuck in the Navy lodge.
See? I do come out ahead.
Also got fitted for my chemical warfare gear and gas mask today. I love when you are wearing a suit that a billion people have already tried on and then when it's already 90 degrees with no AC, you are putting on three and four layers of fire and chemical protected gear to prove you know how to tighten velcro straps. Those terrorist nerve agents have got nothing on the US Navy.
-
-The first con, however, is the inability to do laundry when I want to. Waiting outside of a room with coin operated machines buzzing happily is a definite downside to my temporary quarters. Gone are the days when I would roll downstairs in William's house, clandestinely move his laundry from the washing machine, do my laundry, then put his stuff right back in the washer.
I mourn the loss of such wonderful schemes.
-A definite pro is that when I leave each morning the magic fairy who cleans up comes in and gives me new towels.
-Another pro is that if I so chose, I could choose to not make my bed one day. And while I never chose that, it's nice to have that option there.
-A con is the fact that I am trapped here on the support site base with a bird's eye view of Italy.
-A pro is that I am not having to pump gas.
- A con is that the water is making me break out. So as if the stress of a transcontinental move wasn't enough, the water is putting the final nail in the proverbial coffin of my skin.
-The best pro is that when I am a mooch nowadays it's not because it is in my nature to mooch (which it is). It is because everyone mooches when stuck in the Navy lodge.
See? I do come out ahead.
Also got fitted for my chemical warfare gear and gas mask today. I love when you are wearing a suit that a billion people have already tried on and then when it's already 90 degrees with no AC, you are putting on three and four layers of fire and chemical protected gear to prove you know how to tighten velcro straps. Those terrorist nerve agents have got nothing on the US Navy.
-
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Finally saw ITALY
I'll admit that I was just a little frustrated that by Friday afternoon the only part of Italy I could see from the confines of the USN Support Site was the run down apartment buildings that line the fence by the back gate. The picturesque images in my head had eluded me thus far and I was beginning to wonder if this was just one more horrible joke and I was still trapped in Virginia.
But no, my friends.
Breathe in, for that is the smell of Italia.
And yes, I realize there is a pungent odor from the eternal hot springs of Sulfatara that smells of rotten eggs early in the morning, and I also realize that the humidity mixed with trash in the streets is a less than appetizing scent, but here I am, in a foreign country. And I live here.
Friday afternoon, I was sprung from this joint by William's best friend David. He picked me up, and I immediately bombarded him with questions and much needed answers due to the confusing briefings I had been forced to attend. After we had been driving for a bit, he stopped me and said Maura, Look! And I looked out of the window and had to catch my breath. The brightly painted stucco houses lined the hills of Vesuvius and palm tree lined streets of Naples took my breath away. David and his wife Courtney live in a little town on the outskirts of the city of Naples proper called Pozzuoli. As we pulled up to their building I was just amazed that the Sophia Loren movies were true.
The Italians are masters at placing things where ever there happens to be room. The apartment buildings are built in the shape of the ground below them, hence many buildings with 5 or even 6 sides. If there is a spot of soil, vines of grapes are growing. If there is a spot of pavement, 2 cars are parked there. They don't care if someone else was there first. As we toured downtown Pozzuoli, and it sunk in that I was walking down the cobblestones that were placed there in before Christ, and the ruins that are everywhere are centuries older than monument in America.
We toured Montecassino on Saturday and I had to pry my eyes away from the views to appreciate the beauty of the hand laid marble and tiles. The mosaics, the icons, the paintings, all the images in history books and in religious books from my childhood and high school...all of these I got to see in their original form.
Mass in Italian, thankfully, just like Mass in English. Without Courtney by my side though, the homily and gospel would have been a bit of a beast. Thank goodness for non-Catholic friends who love you enough to sit with you at Catholic Mass and explain when the priest is telling you about the pope. I was looking a little glazed over when Courtney saved me.
I will write about my Sunday in downtown Naples more later, now is time for day two of orientation. So. freaking. pumped.
Not.
But no, my friends.
Breathe in, for that is the smell of Italia.
And yes, I realize there is a pungent odor from the eternal hot springs of Sulfatara that smells of rotten eggs early in the morning, and I also realize that the humidity mixed with trash in the streets is a less than appetizing scent, but here I am, in a foreign country. And I live here.
Friday afternoon, I was sprung from this joint by William's best friend David. He picked me up, and I immediately bombarded him with questions and much needed answers due to the confusing briefings I had been forced to attend. After we had been driving for a bit, he stopped me and said Maura, Look! And I looked out of the window and had to catch my breath. The brightly painted stucco houses lined the hills of Vesuvius and palm tree lined streets of Naples took my breath away. David and his wife Courtney live in a little town on the outskirts of the city of Naples proper called Pozzuoli. As we pulled up to their building I was just amazed that the Sophia Loren movies were true.
The Italians are masters at placing things where ever there happens to be room. The apartment buildings are built in the shape of the ground below them, hence many buildings with 5 or even 6 sides. If there is a spot of soil, vines of grapes are growing. If there is a spot of pavement, 2 cars are parked there. They don't care if someone else was there first. As we toured downtown Pozzuoli, and it sunk in that I was walking down the cobblestones that were placed there in before Christ, and the ruins that are everywhere are centuries older than monument in America.
We toured Montecassino on Saturday and I had to pry my eyes away from the views to appreciate the beauty of the hand laid marble and tiles. The mosaics, the icons, the paintings, all the images in history books and in religious books from my childhood and high school...all of these I got to see in their original form.
Mass in Italian, thankfully, just like Mass in English. Without Courtney by my side though, the homily and gospel would have been a bit of a beast. Thank goodness for non-Catholic friends who love you enough to sit with you at Catholic Mass and explain when the priest is telling you about the pope. I was looking a little glazed over when Courtney saved me.
I will write about my Sunday in downtown Naples more later, now is time for day two of orientation. So. freaking. pumped.
Not.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Orientation
I hate to lead people astray when I write these and have them think I have actually done anything cool.
Well, I haven't just yet.
I rolled into orientation this morning with all the hope and trepidation one can expect for a single girl walking into the unknown. I realized I was out of my element when I was surrounded by families and what appeared two single enlisted guys. I had already asked if any other nurses were checking in, and when I was told that I was it, I knew I was in for a treat.
After spending 8 hours deciphering what pertained to me, and what pertained to the spouse and children I don't have, I came to the conclusion that single people check in would last about ten minutes. I gotta say, I am happy I don't have any kids. And particularly happy that the phantom children I don't have cannot drive. I spent many hours sitting confused, and many more wishing that I had a cell phone to text people things like "dude, this sucks." As William says, I am the fastest draw in Norfolk when it comes to whipping out the cell phone. I can text like a FIEND. Like an amputee victim, I still feel the phantom vibrations of the texts I am not receiving.
And I kind of miss Starbucks. I know, I know, you gasp as I am surrounded by red wine and cappuccino. But that stuff is strong! And I kind of like froo froo girly drinks that they "claim" have coffee in them. But whatever. Listen to me whine when I am just frustrated I am trapped to the Navy Lodge. For goodness sakes, I am in the land of sunshine and the Pope, I mean, for real no joke. He lives like an hour and a half away.
Well, the real adventure begins this weekend. Courtney and David are once again allowing me to mooch off their kindness and showing me the beauty of the area vs. The Naval Support Site. More to come with much more exciting things accomplished!
Well, I haven't just yet.
I rolled into orientation this morning with all the hope and trepidation one can expect for a single girl walking into the unknown. I realized I was out of my element when I was surrounded by families and what appeared two single enlisted guys. I had already asked if any other nurses were checking in, and when I was told that I was it, I knew I was in for a treat.
After spending 8 hours deciphering what pertained to me, and what pertained to the spouse and children I don't have, I came to the conclusion that single people check in would last about ten minutes. I gotta say, I am happy I don't have any kids. And particularly happy that the phantom children I don't have cannot drive. I spent many hours sitting confused, and many more wishing that I had a cell phone to text people things like "dude, this sucks." As William says, I am the fastest draw in Norfolk when it comes to whipping out the cell phone. I can text like a FIEND. Like an amputee victim, I still feel the phantom vibrations of the texts I am not receiving.
And I kind of miss Starbucks. I know, I know, you gasp as I am surrounded by red wine and cappuccino. But that stuff is strong! And I kind of like froo froo girly drinks that they "claim" have coffee in them. But whatever. Listen to me whine when I am just frustrated I am trapped to the Navy Lodge. For goodness sakes, I am in the land of sunshine and the Pope, I mean, for real no joke. He lives like an hour and a half away.
Well, the real adventure begins this weekend. Courtney and David are once again allowing me to mooch off their kindness and showing me the beauty of the area vs. The Naval Support Site. More to come with much more exciting things accomplished!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Working on being here for 24 hours...
Disclaimer: This is geared toward family and friends who are suddenly shocked by the lack of texts and phone calls from me i.e. people who actually care about what I am doing. It may got long winded and boring....but now you were warned!
I was warned by most people who had even heard of Naples that I would hate it. The smell of the trash, the slum-like houses in which people are accustomed to living in, the incessant flies, and the driving. All these warnings were as flashing lights in my mind as I got on the plane in Norfolk on Tuesday night. And despite my fears that I would have to empty contents of my suitcase in the check in line at the airport to make weight, I escaped that mortification and made the 140 lbs limit with 11 lbs to spare. As most of you know, I am worrier, and worried about the suitcases from start to finish as well as my seat on the plane as I boarded the MAC flight to Naples. Instead, I had a business class seat on the aisle, was fed two meals (that slightly resembled mashed dog poop) and slept the majority of the flight.
And guess what? My suitcases were the first two off and because my flight was early and my sponsor wasn't there yet, I lugged that 129 lbs of glorious luggage to wait for my sponsor outside. You know how in Audrey Hepburn movies she arrives early and looks fashionably chic as she awaits her ride holding a small dog in her arms? Well, imagine the opposite and you have me. I won't lie, the 129 lbs made me a little sweaty and after being in the air for 13 hours, sweaty and gross, and my hair was anything but cute. My disheveled self was collected by my sponsor and that's when I realized all those things I had been warned about were true. Except I don't hate it. How can someone hate it when cars drive on the line just because they can, and they merge into you to prove a point? As my friend Courtney puts it, "it's survival of the fittest out here, baby." And the trash? That's no lie.
But after the initial check in at the Navy Lodge occurred, and my suitcases were in my room, I was finally able to relax. That is until I realized that a piece of the ceiling had fallen down outside my bathroom, the TV screen doesn't work, and oh that piece of ceiling? That was a heralding of a broken AC. These things have since been fixed but I thought, dang, Norfolk practically kicked me in the butt when I left and Naples is already asserting its dominance on me.
Today was the introduction to the Hospital where yes, one nurse is on duty at a time in the ER. They like their autonomy here, I'm thinking. My friend Courtney is married to William's friend David and they have lived out here since June and she has been my savior. She picked me up and got a tour of the Naval Bases under my belt. Last night was the first taste of Pizze Margherita in 8 years and it was delicious....and the red wine was even better. Courtney showed me the area and while my feet are still a little unsteady in this new place, it looks like with the help of friends like Courtney this is going to be a fantastic time.
And I already worked out in the gym. It's like two feet from the Lodge. Sweet!
I was warned by most people who had even heard of Naples that I would hate it. The smell of the trash, the slum-like houses in which people are accustomed to living in, the incessant flies, and the driving. All these warnings were as flashing lights in my mind as I got on the plane in Norfolk on Tuesday night. And despite my fears that I would have to empty contents of my suitcase in the check in line at the airport to make weight, I escaped that mortification and made the 140 lbs limit with 11 lbs to spare. As most of you know, I am worrier, and worried about the suitcases from start to finish as well as my seat on the plane as I boarded the MAC flight to Naples. Instead, I had a business class seat on the aisle, was fed two meals (that slightly resembled mashed dog poop) and slept the majority of the flight.
And guess what? My suitcases were the first two off and because my flight was early and my sponsor wasn't there yet, I lugged that 129 lbs of glorious luggage to wait for my sponsor outside. You know how in Audrey Hepburn movies she arrives early and looks fashionably chic as she awaits her ride holding a small dog in her arms? Well, imagine the opposite and you have me. I won't lie, the 129 lbs made me a little sweaty and after being in the air for 13 hours, sweaty and gross, and my hair was anything but cute. My disheveled self was collected by my sponsor and that's when I realized all those things I had been warned about were true. Except I don't hate it. How can someone hate it when cars drive on the line just because they can, and they merge into you to prove a point? As my friend Courtney puts it, "it's survival of the fittest out here, baby." And the trash? That's no lie.
But after the initial check in at the Navy Lodge occurred, and my suitcases were in my room, I was finally able to relax. That is until I realized that a piece of the ceiling had fallen down outside my bathroom, the TV screen doesn't work, and oh that piece of ceiling? That was a heralding of a broken AC. These things have since been fixed but I thought, dang, Norfolk practically kicked me in the butt when I left and Naples is already asserting its dominance on me.
Today was the introduction to the Hospital where yes, one nurse is on duty at a time in the ER. They like their autonomy here, I'm thinking. My friend Courtney is married to William's friend David and they have lived out here since June and she has been my savior. She picked me up and got a tour of the Naval Bases under my belt. Last night was the first taste of Pizze Margherita in 8 years and it was delicious....and the red wine was even better. Courtney showed me the area and while my feet are still a little unsteady in this new place, it looks like with the help of friends like Courtney this is going to be a fantastic time.
And I already worked out in the gym. It's like two feet from the Lodge. Sweet!
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