Day 127- Hot in Herre

38 degrees Celsius was the high today. We are all going crazy. Maria and I have given up and now reside to lying in bed with the fan pointed at us. Valerio just swears and tries to distract us, but I don't think he's convinced that this heat is normal either. The only other option is riding around on a motorcycle because the breeze is so nice. So whenever anything involves a motorcycle, I jump at the chance...(of course not just for the breeze).

So, yesterday I went to the farmer's market with Vale. It's in the nearby Testaccio district, set up at the Ex-Mattatoio (former slaughterhouse). The place itself is really interesting architecturally; very industrial-you can see the iron settings where the hooks would move the meat around the building. Now, no cows, but fresh veggies, cheese, bread, pastas, olive oil, etc. I resisted from buying everything in sight, but I did have to give into the fresh organic milk and some amazing almond biscotti. I love markets. They're so alive.

Roma Farmer's Market

Fiori di Zucca (Squash Blossoms)
Later to be stuffed with mozzarella and fried. Very good.

Valerio looking at his Porchetta

Then I saw Valerio buying fresh homemade gnocchi and couldn't resist offering to make my grandma's pesto recipe, called "greensauce".  Basically a creamy pesto, with some not-so-Italian ingredients added, like butter and cream cheese. Still, the Bianchini heritage showed through and proved Italian worthy because Valerio cleaned off his plate. And everyone else's. I was proud.

After lunch we all did more lying in front of the fans in our correspondent rooms, I went running (yes I eat all day, and yes this blog is almost all about food, but I am doing something to balance it all out, ok?), and then Mary had to go feed her friend's cat since she's away. And since it was across town, and she happened to be going on her motorcycle...I thought I'd give her some company.

The breeeeze. I love motorcycle rides. Maybe it's because my dad used to have one when I was little. They're just the best. The traffic here makes it seem a little like I'm going to die though haha. Mary tries to talk to me while I'm on the bike...if I don't understand everything talking with people in a kitchen, I understand less Italian while I hang onto the back of a motorcycle making sure I don't fall off, while I look at beautiful Rome whizzing by, trying to take it all in. I try really hard though, so I can give some sort of valid answer. It does requires some intense multitasking, but...I still love it.

Back home, Valerio was starting dinner. A light salad maybe? Of course not. Fritti. Fried foods. Fiori di zucca fritti and mozzarella fritti. With a salad on the side. Haha. It was greattt.

And since then just more heat. I'm not going to talk about the fact that maybe Italy just lost the finals in the Eurocup. But that happened. Whatever. More importantly, Paqui's back from Puglia with more homemade food that we get to try during the week AND with her mom's pesto recipe. I feel like the luckiest person ever.

We'll see how this sleeping thing goes. I need a higher setting for this fan. Or better yet-that thing called air conditioning. No?

Day 28- Secrets of Rome

Just booked flights for my first trip outside of Italy, for my Easter vacation. We're off from April 5-11, but I'm taking off the first few days of that week and we'll be leaving March 30th. So it'll be Rome-Milan-Budapest-Paris-Rome. I can't even. SO excited. Tomorrow I have to look for places to stay and of course being the way that I am, will try and make some sort of itinerary of must-do things.  Any suggestions?

Besides that, not too much has gone on.  Went out last night for a little and there is definitely a big difference between weeknights and weekends...the city was so much more alive. And Campo di Fiori was nice, because it's like a plaza with a bunch of bars and pubs, so while you're at one bar you can sort of people watch everyone that's walking around. It's funny you can always tell who's American...flip flops in April? I learned that lesson when I moved to Chile and tried to wear sandals in September. People must have thought I was crazy too.  And then there were the bridesmaids out for what I'm guessing was the bachelorette party. All in their matching dresses with sashes that said "bridesmaid #1, #2, #3", very methodically avoiding the spaces between each cobblestone with their stilettos-definitely not walking in a straight line anymore. That's one I'll have to practice. But I'm surprised at how early places close, everything was closed by 2:30. Which, if I think about it, is actually a good thing considering it takes me at least an hour to get home. Dumb buses.

And then I'm starting to notice little things about a place that you can only notice by living there. Which really kinda makes me happy because that's why I'm doing this. It's why I made the effort of making this my experience instead of just coming here on another vacation. I've learned through being in Chile that there is nothing more special than actually starting to feel like you're part of another culture. There are little details that are like secrets; only those who stay long enough, know about them. Know why things are a certain way, or how things came to be. And of course I'm not there yet...but there are some details that at first were just that-uncommon things that I noticed where different than in Chile, or United States.  And now...now they blend into my routine. They have become common.  Like the sirens. I hope it's not that more people have emergencies here, but a siren wails through the streets at least 4 times a day. And the birds chirp so much earlier than anywhere else.  I mean these are the birds the saying was based on...they're up and singing right now. It's 1 in the morning. Chilean birds are much more lazy. Which is ironic because you would think that being Italian birds, they would be as relaxed as the people. I went to go buy something yesterday and everything but the pizzerias were closed. Lunch break. Nap time. For 3 hours. Amazing. And there are the constant motorcycles and vespas that go by. That vrrooom sound that is starting to put me to sleep like an ocean would. I now understand that just because they are talking loudly and gesturing grandly doesn't mean they're fighting. It's just a conversation. I wonder if I'd look foreign doing that when I can actually complete more than a few sentences in Italian.  Anyway, I like these things that are no longer details for me. I want so much for the list to grow, to feel less....in a bubble? Or outside the bubble? But that is only possible with time, I know.