smoke signals

Pop quiz.

So you are driving down the road...  those painted lines - they indicate, what?

Yeah, you guessed it.  Not-so-much for the Italians.  Those lines appear to be merely a suggestion of where one may or may not hang out when driving down the road.  There may be three lanes of traffic, but there may indeed be around five or six (counting the shoulders and opposite side of the road that number increases exponentially).

I have come to the conclusion that the Italians are overly optimistic.  We actually saw someone driving the opposite direction on the highway yesterday.  Not backing up.  Driving.  The wrong way.

We are constantly witnessing death-defying acts of passing, speeding, careening, running red lights, racing through intersections without slowing down..

Here's a fun video (sorry, none of the media is mine today) of a typical intersection in Naples...

Needless to say, I am excited that my gigantic Honda CRV has arrived with all of its air bag glory.  You heard that right.  Gigantic.  When the majority of the cars are slightly larger than a Smart car, ye olde CRV is a towering giant.  I'm ok with that.  It does appear that the big car wins here.  I'm not looking for a fight, I just want to get there.  Alive.

Driving around on our various errands - that generally consist of appointments at bases Capo (the actual base here in Naples), SS (the Support Site base), JFC (Nato, where Major will be working) - we generally see (and smell) around a dozen or so fires burning in the area.

The fires seem to range from trash burning, to on-the-side-of-the-road cigarette starting, to burning off dead crops in a field.

Most of the fires we see are a little smaller than this, but we haven't approached the big ones in the distance...  You should turn the volume down before you watch this one...

I know that the midwest in the US has suffered many horrible fires this year.  It's interesting to me that fires here seem to be so normal.  In fact, I have only seen one fire truck at one fire that was pretty large.  And then they set up a water drop station at Carney Park (CP) a couple of weeks ago where there was another large fire...

we did see the helicopter dropping water when we were touring Pozzuoli.  

Wouldn't want the golf course at CP to go up in flames!

(These pics courtesy of the Living Abroad in Naples Facebook page)

Apparently the guards told one of the wives when they went to CP as the fire burned that a shepherd had set the fire so that there would be new, fresh grass for his sheep in a few weeks.

There is a whole lot of trash is some areas around here - I guess that burning is a normal way to deal with (and sometimes protest) it...

Naples Trash Burning

(*The images today are not mine)

Speaking of going up in flames...  a-hem.

When we first came over to Castel Volturno to look around, our realtor Rhode Island pointed out the women stationed every once in a while in little umbrella stations along the road.  "Whookerz."

She said it several times before the Major caught on.  I was by then laughing pretty hard.  She keep on repeating the word till the lightbulb popped on.  OH!  Those scantily clad, high heel wearing ladies sitting (sometimes stutting around) under umbrellas - offices!

How crazy.

It's a good thing Major doesn't like to stop to ask for directions...

little weirdo

Taking a walk to the grocery store, it's a bumpy ride for Smalls today.  People stare as they pass us, and I wonder, what makes us worthy of consideration...  People sometimes also speak to me regularly in Italian, as if I could pass for a local.   It's a conundrum.

I took a good look at the houses in the neighborhood as we strolled.  A "boarded up" house looks artistically adorned.

I wonder about the previous habitants, and what led to "bricking up" the doors and windows.   I wonder about the cost of wood in this country, and note that all of the floors I have seen here are tile or marble.

I feel like I don't really look that closely at things in America, I don't think...  and yet, here every road is a curiosity, every aisle in the store has potential to produce an exciting treat.  Like these little individually wrapped chocolate wonders -

I am sure that things will become "normal" here after a while.  After the adjustment of taste.  Did I mention that food just tastes better here?  The lettuce actually smells delicious!  We are still reasoning that one out...

Volcanic ash + less chemicals? + more sunshine/humidity/something weird about the weather or climate or...  some other mysterious factor.

In the meantime, we are still shamelessly, and seriously, obsessed with the tomatoes.

And so is Smalls.  She has been eating raw tomatoes and sucking the sauce off of pasta around here like it's her j.o.b.  Think pasta sauce from tip to tail...

The yolks of the eggs here are much more vibrantly painted.

AND, you don't refrigerate the eggs over here...  something to do with never having refrigerated them?  They remind me of the eggs we got from a farm in Virginia once (there were even green shells that time).

We tried the white eggplant.

Delicious as you would expect.  Not too different than the taste of regular eggplant - but the Major made it with salted capers, and that was a winning combo right there...  funny thing is that it barely looked white anymore after it was "browned".  Heh.

And we have been eating figs like they are going out of season...

I actually think they are just hitting their season - lucky for us.

There are some things that I haven't quite figured out yet.

Like, condensed goat's milk, for example -

And this strange offering at the ortofrutta...

Looks like a type of nut?  I haven't had the courage to ask.

As the Major and I work towards some kind of proficiency with the native language, we have found a couple of Italian friends who have insisted on assisting us.  Yesterday our mission was to decode cell phone contracts.  It took our friends, and their daughter, speaking in Italian (with us, each other, and the Tim store lady), French (with each other), and English (with us), about two hours of debating

to decide that we should just figure out a way to get phones from the US - never mind a ban on shipping lithium batteries...

While the language circus progressed at the Tim store, Smalls and I contemplated acquiring a Lover Card,

and heading down to McDrive ...

Ok, not really...  Actually I am very impressed that I have only seen two McDonalds and one Burger King in our three weeks here so far - at least beyond the gates of the SS.  And, not tempted in the least for some "American" food as of yet.  Although this phenomena did occur when I studied abroad in Bangkok.  Granted, the food there was a bit more "foreign".  And I was in college.

After the cell phone negotiations were kaput, we joined our new friends for a cafe, and debated the merits of Italian coffee (small but mighty).

She thinks that it must be weird for Americans to see Italians drinking out of such a tiny cup.  Perhaps a little weird, it's true, but oh so delicious!

We take Smalls, in desperate need of a nap, and head back to our lodgings - to study the language, and for a salad bursting with both color and flavor (radicchio & rucula).

Tonight we try these beautiful zucchini.

Will have to let you know how those little weirdos turn out!

stop and go

I'm sure we are all familiar with ye old stop sign, right?

Well, apparently here in the Naples area, "stopping" is merely a suggestion.  A suggestion that could very well get you hit square in the car ass.  You don't stop for stop signs here - I learned this first by having a small freakout when my husband ran one getting on the Autostrade - and he very patiently, without raising his voice in the least (or altering his tone) - explained that this kind of respect for the law would in fact, probably get us killed.

I don't think it's as bad as his experience driving in Columbia.  He literally praised the traffic gods when he returned to American soil after that trip - noting that Americans, in fact, stop at red lights and stop signs in the middle of nowhere, and at night when no one else is around - there is just THAT much respect for the law.

We're still trying to figure out the rules of the road here.  Sometimes it seems as if the biggest car wins, or if you honk first, you have established your sonority, but mostly it's just a free-for-all.  And yet these people are good drivers.  Possibly great drivers.  I haven't seen an accident yet, and it seems like the more you drive like an American, the more you will be having mini heart attacks, becoming a danger to yourself and those around you (namely your husband who is driving - at least according to him).  The game plan seems to be:  Bear down and make your way - other cars, pedestrians, small animals, motorcycles, mopeds, signs and lights be damned - as much as possible.

I took my driving test today.  Before the test we listened to a brief about driving in this area from a guy who grew up here.  As he showed pictures and videos of traffic in downtown naples it reminded me of driving in NYC.  No lines on the road, everyone just keeps a reasonable distance of a few small inches or so...

It's possible that had I taken the test earlier I would have known better than to drive up that one-way street (where we got the international head shake for "What the ahem are you thinking? Turn around immediately and go the right way dingo!" from an on-coming moto).  The last time we drove around Italy we got into some might tight spots (literally - and we were driving a car just a scooch bigger than a Smart car).  Perhaps armed with this new knowledge of traffic signs we will win previously failed battles over maze-like city centros.  It only took us about a dozen shots at breaking into Perugia ("look kids, Big Ben, Parliament!").  Ah, but that was back in the day - driving old-school style sans GPS.

On the way back from the SS, the Major was stopped by the local Carabinieri here in town.  I had seen them doing traffic stops in the same location the day before, so I wasn't surprised to hear this...  I haven't seen a whole lot of Americanos around these parts.

When the police officer approached the Major's car, he asked, "Where are you from?"

"California," replied the Major.

A pause.

"Marines?" 

"Yep."

A pause, and a smile...

"Bye, buyee."

And he walked away from the car.  Letting a confused Major drive down the road.

In other news - we got to see the apartment again yesterday...  This is a view from the fourth floor upper back patio area - that looks out over Pozzuoli bay.

They were working on installing air conditioners and a new hot water heater when we stopped by - key ingredients in our negotiation process.

Out in front of the building is a square where there is a daily market (to the right in the pic), a vegetable truck that comes down from Gaeta, a gelateria, a pretty fantastic pizzeria, and there is also a Metro stop just a couple of blocks away.

These pictures really don't do the view justice - it's pretty stunning.

It's definitely part of a city, but not nearly as crazy as Naples.  It's a port city, and there are historic ruins everywhere.  I am really looking forward to exploring this town.

Currently, we are waiting for the SS base housing office - we first have to have a pre-contract meeting at the end of the month, then there is an inspection of the place, then we move to contract.  It's a long, drawn-out ordeal, but we are excited about the apartment, its location and the landlord, so we are hopeful that it will all pan out.

I have learned that one should not get too excited about anything until it actually happens when it comes to moving - we have heard many stories here about how things get screwed up, housing falls through for one reason or another, or the rules change without warning.  We are trying to be patient.

Meanwhile, it's summer, and we are staying where there is a pool, near the beach.

It could be a whole lot worse.

full circle

It's Sunday.  Everything is closed.  We can't get gas because we have gas coupons and we can only use them when the full service people are working the pumps - not on Sunday.  Markets, shops, and restaurants are all closed - save for just a couple.  Italians seem to really protect their vacation and family time.   It's great.  I actually remember this kind of schedule from when I was young growing up in the midwest.  Sunday was reserved for Church and family.

One big difference here - shops close in the afternoon for a break.  I remember that the first time I went to Barcelona (more than 10 years ago) it was the same thing - I tried to go shopping on my lunch break, but everything was shut.  When we returned to Barcelona a few years ago, it had all changed, everything seemed to be open all throughout the day.

I was at the market buying groceries on Friday - Smalls had just woken up from a nap, and we headed out around lunch time...  I had just managed to secure a couple of veggies and was contemplating another bottle of Morellino, when I hear the cashier trying to get my attention.

I didn't catch everything she said, but I did hear "chiusa" quite clearly.  Closing.  And it was 2 in the afternoon.  I haven't quite figured out when they open back up, or more importantly, what the heck these people do for hours in the afternoon...  When I figure it out, I will let you know.

The major has been doing some more cooking - our choices for going out around town here in Castel Volturno are pretty much pizza, pizza, or pizza.  Typical food of the region.  Contrary to my habits in college, I find now that one can only eat so much pizza...  We stayed in, and enjoyed fried baby octopus and pasta with shrimp and rocket.

Here we are, living essentially right down the road from where the Major's grandfather was born and raised.  It's not lost on me that he is now using techniques in the kitchen passed down from generations past...  These ingredients are familiar to him... the smells, and the tastes sweetened by the knowledge that Grandpa is somehow involved in each meal.

Yesterday, Saturday, was an incredibly beautiful day.  It cooled off a bit.  So we enjoyed the pool for a while.

And Smalls enjoyed my fast fruit popsicles.  She finally is popping a tooth, and the icy treats appear to be rather soothing.

In the afternoon when it really warmed up we decided to take a field trip to Ikea, to gather ideas for our hopefully upcoming move.  Although their furniture is not built to withstand a lot of moving around, we have had several pieces that have lasted for quite a while - and I like seeing their innovative ideas.  Plus, they actually have pretty cool baby stuff.  We buy Smalls a tiny stuffed animal with the biggest tags you have ever seen.

Next stop, to find a supermarket and some dinner ingredients.  We pass a store a couple of times called Auchan.  It looks gigantic.  After a search on the GPS, we see it listed as a supermarket.  Ok, let's do it.

When we step inside, we realize that, heck yeah Toto - we ain't in Kansas anymore.

Let's be clear.  It's like no other supermarket I have ever seen.  Ever.

I mean, I am generally a fan of Starbucks, but wouldn't you rather have your coffee here?

In a cup like this?

And perhaps catch a few minutes of the soccer game while you enjoy a gelato here?

It's really a mall with a giant supermarket inside...  It takes us a bit of walking to get the cart (with Smalls) inside the grocery store.   But once we do - well...  It's like a disneyland for foodies...  Some of the craziest stuff we have seen yet - definitely some food curiosities - like this ginormous log of mortadella...  Whoa.

We contemplate buying a bit of horse for dinner...

(Not really).  But if you are considering it, scroll in and you can see parts of the horse for sale...

We wander past the fish selection

We end up in the veggie aisle.  Such beautiful tomatos!

And if you have a recipe that calls for a medley of eggplant, we know where to go...

Will have to try the white eggplant on our next visit...

After securing one of my favorites, mozzarella di bufala,

AND a new treat recommended by our friend T, ricotta di bufala, (both made in our local region of Campana)

we make a slow dash out of the store.

I am struck by the families strolling through the mall.  I don't see many single people (alone) at all.  NO ONE is on their phone.  People are conversing with real live people, connecting, playing around with Smalls, watching the soccer game, enjoying coffee at the bar, eating ice cream...  Old couples meander along, preciously sharing the load of a bag between them.

We return from Auchan to the aromas of fried fish, tomatos and basil trapped in the house from yesterday's dinner.  I am struck by the smell of the house at this moment - it reminds me of the Major's grandfather's house in California.  When I tell him that I think so, he responds that he has been thinking about this for a few days...  "How crazy that my grandfather's house used to smell like Italy."  There is a pause as we consider the irony.  And here we are, full circle.

alter ego

Our realtor calls me Cara.  I guess my name is difficult to pronounce in Italian, because I tried several times with her to get it right.  Or maybe she just wants to call me this name.  I don't mind - it means "beloved" in Italian.  I can handle that.

All morning we field phone calls from our realtor (she is Italian but lived for 20 years in Rhode Island - so has the East Coast Italian qualities we are used to (the Major's grandfather was from Gaeta, Italy - only a short jaunt north from Naples, and most of his family settled in Boston).  We are working on a "pre-contract" for the apartment.  The first available appointment with housing is not until August 29th.  Everyone is on vacation in this country.  For the whole month of August.   We were warned that this would happen.  We settle a bit more into our temporary lodging while we continue to hurry up and wait.

Today, while the Major runs errands at the SS, the Smalls and I made a trip back to the local market for some frutta e verdura.  I only know a few Italian words so far, but everyone is so nice it is really easy and fun to shop.  Here is what seven euro can buy you...

I can't remember when tomatoes smelled so good.  Make-your-mouth-water-I-have-to-eat-these-right-now good.  Luckily we just happened to have some fresh mozzarella in the fridge.

Smalls toyed with a basil leaf as I prepared the lunch.  She is not sure about the flavor, but I could tell that the leaf's easy handle won her over.

Then after lunch I made her a few quickie plum and fig popsicles for later...

She's been doing quite well with finger food.  I considered mashing up the fruit to make a popsicle, but the fruit looked so perfect just in slices...  we'll see what she thinks about it frozen.

Grocery shopping is such an adventure here.  I know that we have only been here for a short time, so perhaps that will wear off, but it's the same feeling I would get when picking up our weekly CSA box, or pretty much whenever we would go into Whole Foods - you KNOW it's going to be good.

The Major does most of the cooking at our house.  My job is to keep the kitchen stocked.  I think this will be easier here than in the States...  last night we decided to stay home and make a family favorite - Hot Macaroni.  It's a quick tomato sauce (tomato, garlic, olive oil, onion), on your pasta of choice.  Our choice was Maccheroni Calabrese - a shape I had never seen before...

Long rolled hearty rustic fingers of amazingness.

We also tried a type of wine we had never heard of before - Morellino di Scansano

More about Morellino here

We will be keeping our eye out for this Tuscan treat in the future.  I've already made a mental note to search out one of the Morellino di Scansano wineries in Maremma when we are in that area.  Fantastico!

There is something about traveling that makes people want to embrace alter egos...  You can't be quite yourself, it just isn't possible.  The Italian me hasn't turned on the television in days.  I hear the energy of the day in our neighborhood through traffic levels and neighborly noise.  People make eye contact on the street with us.  Little old men come up to the baby to talk to her, sing, and make faces.

In fact, taking Smalls along makes us extra-welcome wherever we go.  Our waitress at the restaurant the other night saw me headed to the bathroom with Smalls for a diaper change.  She stopped me, put a fresh table cloth on a table at the back and insisted that I change her there.  Then, when I accidentally opened the door to the kitchen instead of the bathroom, she took the diaper right out of my hand and threw it away.  I was floored.

The population in Italy is declining.  Many families are choosing to have only one child, or none at all.  I guess this may be one reason for a baby's star quality...  Italy Population Decline

Whatever the reasons, taking Smalls around town is an easy icebreaker, and "Cara" isn't complaining one bit.

Upgraded

Elated.

Over the past few days, we put a contract hold on a house (more on that later) - rather an apartment anywho, and we are hopeful that it will stick.  We visited our friends Jackie (you may remember, the one who rescued us from the airport), and his wife T, in Martina Franca.  And we moved over to a beach town into temporary housing not affiliated with the US Government.  So life is tutto bene for the momento.

Here is a pic of the pool at the new place...

And the beer festival & concert that is about to gear up down the street...

And the mouth watering market we passed on the way to dinner...

Where we bought a bottle of wine for 2 euro.

And pizza from tonight's dinner...

Ok, so...  here are the details of "how we upgraded".

When last we met, the Major and I were debating Vomero v.s. Pozzuoli.  I think that was on Thursday.  We headed out that night, to walk around Vomero, get something to eat, get a feel for the area...

Two small but significant wrong turns later (and we were using a GPS mind you), we arrived in Vomero much later than anticipated, and it was pure unbridled chaos.  A maze of confounding one way streets, traffic zooming, pedestrians jumping out into traffic, strollers rolling, skyscraping apartment buildings - and the motos!...   I was getting majorly claustrophobic.  Not what I imagined life in Italy to be.

I reached for the ejection lever - can't we just 'ahem' scoot over to Pozzuoli perhaps?  Would that be more manageable?
 
In fact, yes, we can mosey over to Pozzuoli, where we indeed find a parking spot, and manage to get the stroller out of the car without being swiped by a moped - even though the cobblestone streets are barely under shaken baby syndrome level (mental pat on the back for leaving most of my cutest heels back in storage).  We push on (literally) to a marina area, circle a couple of times (as couples do when they debate the merits of a tourist-trappy looking eaterie v.s. somthing "a bit more authentic").

We finally find a little family joint with a price-fixed menu.  Excellent seafood dishes, even though the meal lasted through at least a couple of the Smalls' naps.  She was an amazing trouper (insert sigh of relief and mental high five with Major D for what *must* be excellent parenting).

Pozzuoli is...  well...  it's an old city next to (and connected to) a very urban city.  There is sand and sea, and a whole lot of history (lots of ruins) mixed with enough shops and markets to make one think you can get almost anything you want - perhaps.  It's neat, and kinda mysterious.  We have an appointment with a realtor who will take us to Pozzuoli Friday morning - so we drag ourselves back to the Support Site (ironically SS for short) for the night - where Major gets surprised breathalized before we can enter the gates.  Joy.

Friday we see several villas in the Pozzuoli area - each of them lovely and individually charming, but our goal is immersion in the Italian culture, so a large lovely home in the middle of a parco where I can stay isolated with Smalls is probably not the best choice.  Something closer to a walking area might be more desirable.

We really like Pozzuoli, and the apartment we are shown is pretty dang nice (will share details if it becomes more of a reality).  There are a million ways this may get screwed up, so we try not to get too excited.  We will have to wait approximately sixty days to take hold of this property.  That is if the owner feels like going through the myriad inspections, details, demands, and contractual obligations we will require to satisfy the US government.  Apparently we will be paying enough...  they want to do it.  We start the hurry-up-waiting process.

Meanwhile, our realtor shares with us temporary lodging in her town that another family is just moving out of, where there is beach access, a private pool, and no breathalyzer militia hanging around.  

But first - a sojourn to Martina Franca where our friends have lived for the past year.  I have my first official heavenly espresso on the road...

Jackie and T have a smalls too - he is more Italian than ours - he was born in this country - and they regularly call him Piccolo.  He shows our Smalls what an additional two months can activate on a baby, and we look forward to many adventures in tandem parenthood.

In a whir of 36 hours we devour many of T's fantastic culinary gestures (her butcher is Slow Food Certified!?).  We venture out for one lunch and gelato (twice) - but are otherwise completely satiated with the home cooked goodness bestowed upon us.  It is exactly the charge we require before traversing back to the stoic base, where we pack our things as fast as we can and depart for Castel Volturno - our new temporary quarters.  It's like we finally just arrived.

off base

Today, Thursday, August 2nd, marks day number five of my captivity.  Can a girl get a real Italian meal per favore?  Ok, I exaggerate a bit.  Not about the captivity part - that feels legit.  I have been behind bars on this base for days.  The care package is waning in content...  I discover German made "Greek-style" yogurt in the Commissary - a rare unique offering.  A few slices of "meh" mortadella.  The wine from the mini-mart is good.  I debate the grape diet.

Ok, so I did get out on Monday afternoon.  We went to look at Vomero, an urban section of Naples where the cool kids live and play.  But before the scenic tour, we stopped by Nemo's father's pizzeria.  We had been to this location almost ten years ago when we vacationed in Italy.  I instantly recognized his father and uncle, and the pizza - well, one understands why Naples is known for this delicacy when you eat at a place like this.  Prosciutto, arugula, and parmigiano.  Nuff said.

I have been going for walks around base to see what there may be of interest.  There are more historical ruin windows in the Exchange.  Kids are being led around in various camps.  Playgrounds are empty during the day but activate in the evening hours.  And a pass by the back gate shows another peek at a foreign world.  The infamous trash heaps are no myth.

The Major scored a car today from the lemon lot, so we will be breaking out this evening.   Another trip to Vomero - to get a better feel for the place.  It's one of the two main locations we are considering to live.  The other is a bit further from Naples, the town of Pozzuoli, with easy access to beaches.  We will spend the weekend debating the options.

Meanwhile, I attempt to watch the Olympics.  I have seen more random events on these channels...  shooting, archery, field hockey?  Handball is cool.  But they fail to produce gymnastics, track, or swimming.  NBC won't allow internet video internationally.  Ah well.

Counting the minutes till I can get off base.  Trash and all.