Sangue Dolce

I feel closer to becoming complete person now that I’ve been to Italy to meet my family and find my roots. As I left Italy, I posted this exact Facebook status: “Headed to Italy one week ago knowing that I have relatives there. Left Italy today knowing that I have family there.” It was a trip I will never forget.

My two-week summer vacation began with a week in my favorite Norwegian town, Kongsberg, for a wild time at their yearly JazzFest. My week there also included a day trip to Oslo on the 4^th of July to hang out with Mr. Ian Plaine himself! We made a most excellent salute to the homeland that day and had a great time discussing our experiences of living abroad in Norway. Another highlight of the week was attending The Flaming Lips concert back in Kongsberg, by myself. There’s the saying that “you don’t know the meaning of life until you’ve seen The Flaming Lips live.” I’ve seen them before and thought I understood, but the second time blew the first out of the water. UNREAL. Front row, small venue, tiny friendly crowd (I even befriended a group of real Norwegian guys, which is a rare occurrence for me/most expats), and an unparalleled intimate concert. And then the next morning I began the 12-hour journey to the homeland, Italy (much thanks to the Zachrisen’s for the transportation assistance during those hectic times!).

Car, train, bus, another bus, another train, plane (sat next to the most gentlemanly and handsome young professional opera singer...he was absolutely charming...he even sang to me...I may believe in love now), another plane, one more final plane, and finally home...or so it felt.

I can’t even put into words my crazy emotions when I walked off the airplane in Venice. Excitement, nervousness, a sense of fulfilling a lifelong goal, and the feeling that my grandpa was up in heaven(?) overjoyed that I was finally visiting his stomping grounds. Walking through the security doors, I was nearly nauseous with all those thoughts and emotions…but then seeing Valentina and Andrea waiting for me through the arrival doors was one of the coolest moments of my life. Since leaving California, I’ve been in many, many airports throughout Europe and have witnessed many people saying hellos and goodbyes at arrival and departure gates, families being reunited, people standing with signs and flowers….and watching those moments makes me feel lonelier than ever because I’m basically over here on my own and generally traveling alone. I actually get all emotional and jealous when I watch all the people with their families and friends…I’m such a girl sometimes. So when I saw Valentina, a family member I’ve never actually even met before (but have chatted with many times), waiting there at the arrival gate for ME, I got all choked up. We hugged, we got teary-eyed, we hugged some more. It was so incredible. I wasn’t alone.

From there, we drove into Padova where I (re)met Manuela and Pierro after probably 15 years since their California visit (none of us were quite sure if we had met back then until they mentioned their visit to Alcatraz, which is a randomly distinct childhood memory of mine, and it was determined that was surely with them!). As soon as I walked in their home, a beautiful Italian dinner was already on the table. It was the most welcoming feeling. To be sitting around with family, eating delicious food, sipping real Italian wine, and listening to conversations conducted in Italian….simply divine. To bring the evening to a close, Pierro had me try a bit of his homemade liquor. Too strong for me to handle, yeeeoowww!!! So, after over 12 hours of traveling and a big Italian meal in my belly, it was time for bed. Despite the insane heat and humidity, I passed out hard. I blame the beverages…

My first Italian day began with a Padova tour by Pierro! Because Pierro does not speak very much English, he brought along his friend Guiliana to help with the communication. We visited a handful of churches, accidentally attended a funeral at the Duomo, took forbidden pictures within the Baptistry, did loads of window shopping, HAD MY FIRST COFFEE EVERRRRRRR (which Pierro and everyone else in the coffee shop thought was hilarious) at the “best coffee shop in the city,” and had the most delicious lunch at L’Anfora. Mmmm smoked ricotta and zucchini pasta. Guiliana and Pierro both had a meal with buratta cheese, which they made me try, and with which I fell head over heels for. “Buratta” became a form of communication between Pierro and myself. We would say it for everything! “-Tutto bene?” “-BURATTTTTAAAA!” “-Bion giorno!” “-BBBBBUUURRRRAAAATTTTTAAAAA!!!” It became an obsession.

That afternoon brought about some emotional meetings. First, I met my grandfather’s sister Zia Lidia and her daughter Clara. Now, I knew I was really happy to meet them all but all of a sudden I had such a rush of other emotions, as well…a sense of guilt for having not met them earlier and being so disconnected until then, a feeling of being a more complete person for finally knowing my own relatives, regretting not having a chance to meet my great-grandma who I apparently look like, and the overwhelming sadness when being shown old pictures of Grandpa Ernie and my cousin Matt. I was such a crying mess, and my inability to explain why I was crying created some confusion. That first meeting was the most emotional.

Following meeting Zia Lidia, Manuela took me to meet Zia Gina. Upon arrival, we found sweet Zia Gina in her dining room wearing a tank top and underwear! I was actually so, so thankful for the comic relief because it took my mind off how much of a wreck I was that day. After we met, she clothed herself despite the stifling heat and joined us for some ice cream and more (emotional) picture sharing. Zia Gina has a new boyfriend whom she loved to talk about and was an excellent mood-lightener for me to hear about. Also, she kept insisting that next time I come visit, I will stay with her…Manuela pointed out that would be an adventure since Zia Gina speaks no English and I speak no Italian. She was such a funny, funny lady! And looked so very similar to Grandpa Ernie, which made looking directly at her a bit hard for me. I felt like I was seeing my Grandpa alive again though, not only because they look so similar, but the humor was spot-on the same.

To finish off my first full-day in Italy, Manuela and I went to Valentina and Andrea’s home in the countryside for a delicious (most accurate word to describe most everything I ate in Italy) dinner, along with Valentina’s co-worker, Jacopo. Good times were had, much wine was consumed, and the mosquitos flourished. This was when we discovered that Italian mosquitos have a thing for me (if only it were Italian MEN)…despite wearing repellent and burning two incense sticks, I was getting attacked nonstop. It was determined that I must have sweet blood…or “sangue dolce.”

Waking early the next morning, Manuela and I were off to Venice. What an enchanting place!!!!! It looks like one big postcard after another. Arriving early, we were able to roam the little streets nearly by ourselves. Having my obsession with Venetian masks, of course I bought one. I found the small shop which made the mask my mom brought back for me from their family trip a few years ago and thought it to be most appropriate to buy myself one from there, as well. For much of the day, we wandered the canals and alleyways doing a bit of shopping and dining (had my first cappuccino) until we ended up at St. Mark’s with the rest of the tourists. From there we water-taxied through the Grand Canal and headed home for an afternoon nap. Post-snooze, we began cooking! That night, Manuela and Pierro hosted a party of about 15 people, including one young family friend who just recently returned from a year abroad in Iowa. It was a great night, full of even more wine and good food, which came to an end when a major lightning storm moved just over us. I seemed to be the only one hesitant about having lightning bolts lighting the cloudy skies above us…we all survived though, so I guess they were right to just chill…

The following day consisted mainly of me catching up on sleep. It had been a hot and hectic trip thus far (starting in Kongsberg, where I wasn’t getting much sleep already) and I was still recovering from an illness. Manuela was the ultimate host…every morning she would leave out a homemade fresh fruit salad, fresh-squeezed orange juice, yogurt, and cough syrup for me. All of which, even the cough syrup, was unbelievably tasty. After a bit of breakfast, I braved the insane heat and humidity for an hour of sunning in their backyard. That was sweaty. Whew. The rest of the day was mainly spent reading (House of Spirits is a great book! Lots of type-o’s though since it was translated from Spanish) and then getting ready for the big family dinner that night at La Scuteria. WOWWWW good food. That was where I had my first Italian pizza experience. In the words of Grandpa Ernie, “Ouuuch.” It was so cool just to be there with so many relatives – it felt like a natural, casual family night out despite the fact I was just meeting most of them for the first time. And they all gifted me a real Italian Charm Bracelet with my name on it. So beyond sweet of them all. :))))

Wednesday was possibly the most memorable of them all…I set out on a morning train, entirely by myself, headed to Verona with a sign reading “Angelo, sono Emily.” I was to be met at the train station by a relative, Angelo, who I’ve never met nor seen a picture of… Upon arrival, my awkward self stood around with the sign for a while until I eventually saw someone running over to me, waving. What a relief! For a second there I thought I had gotten off at the wrong station. So, Angelo…I could immediately tell he is the sweetest man ever despite our inability to communicate. As soon as we got into his car, he gifted me a book about the operas performed at the Verona Arena and then sang along for me to the opera CD he had playing as we drove to who knows where. This man loved opera - that much I could tell.

The first stop of our day was to visit Zia Ada at her nursing home. Cue the waterworks arrrghhhhh dangittttt I just couldn’t help it! She looked so much like my Grandpa, and seeing her in such a setting, surrounded by adorable, helpless old people was just too emotionally overwhelming. And then going into her room and seeing the “Ada Vernizzi” nametag on her bed and a picture of my family on her shelf…too much. I felt so terrible for not having met her sooner.

After that emotional overload, Angelo and I were off to the Verona city center to see the sights. First, we went to the Opera Arena…and it was then that I finally realized he had been trying to explain to me the whole time that he works there. We walked right in the tourist exit and he started introducing me to anyone and everyone that worked there. I must have met at least 20 people just during my time in the Arena and upon meeting me, nearly every single person skeptically asked Angelo if he speaks English or if I speak Italian…he would say no….then they would all sort of laugh like, “holy smokes, good luck you two!” It was pretty entertaining. Anyway the tour was awesome! We first walked to the top row of seats to get the whole view then continued down into the backstage area where we went into the props rooms, the costume rooms, and the ballerina rooms. I wanted to touch everything! Especially the opera dresses….whoa. Before leaving the arena, we went into a souvenir shop where Angelo asked me if I liked this one shirt that said “100” (marking some sort of anniversary, still haven’t totally figured it out), I politely said yes since the girl he was simultaneously introducing me to was wearing one just like it…and then he bought it for me! I’m tellin’ ya, this guy was spoiling me, he was so nice! And the shirt has turned out to be very comfortable, too, so I love it.

En route from the Arena to Juliet’s house, he lead me into a random flower shop and introduced me to some more friends of his. Angelo knows everyone in Verona, I swear. And they gave me a very pretty bouquet of purple flowers to accent the dress I was wearing that day. Italians are just the best. Then we continued to Juliet’s house where everyone and their mom was packed into the little courtyard, all trying to get pictures with the Juliet statue. It was cool to be there (especially because of the terribly corny and wonderful movie Letters to Juliet that my college roommates and I would shamelessly play on repeat as we studied), but wayyy toooo touristy for this little travelling diva. So we went in, greeted more of Angelo’s friends in the souvenir shop, snapped a picture with the statue, and headed outta there! Afterwards, we strolled the old streets back towards the arena, where we stopped for a cold beverage. While sitting there, Angelo was greeted first by a beautiful lady who turned out to be the lead opera singer in Carmen and then an American lady who is the lead ballerina in…I think Tosca?...either way, Angelo knows everyone.

After the Verona tour, we drove a bit out into the countryside to meet more family members for lunch. Little did I know that the chefs of the restaurant were actually my relatives (communication was really quite difficult…most of the day felt as if I was just “along for the ride,” which was pretty exciting). Lunch really felt like I was a part of the gang – casual, no tourists anywhere near, just a big family lunch. Zia Ada was able to come from the rest home, as well, and this second meeting of the day was a lot less emotional although I did tear-up a bit again when it came time to say goodbye. But lunch was great! As I had for the past few days, I ate as many plates of tomatoes and mozzarella I could get my paws on. Cousin Elena is a trained pastry chef and her desserts did not disappoint. Her husband, Fabrizio was celebrating his birthday that day so everyone sang to him when he came out from the kitchen. He also brought over an olllld cardboard model of the Golden Gate Bridge that (I thinkkkk….possibly lost in translation…) was brought over from my Grandpa many years/decades earlier and has since been on display in the restaurant.

Lunch came to an end, ciaos were said, cheek kisses were exchanged, and Angelo and I were off to who knows where again. A while later, we were atop a mountain overlooking Verona, parked illegally but parking rules are for tourists and we ain’t no tourists. We’re Italians. I snapped a few pictures, tried to understand the history Angelo was explaining to me, and then we were on our way to….? Apparently higher mountains! It was quite a scenic drive past fields, vineyards, marble mines…and then the car overheated RIGHT as we reached the summit. CLASSIC. I mean, I pretty much thought it was hilarious with the timing and all but I can’t say I was too surprised – it was a HOTHOTHOT day and that was a long upwards drive. So we got to the top, within feet of the view, but we turned right back around, turned off the car and coasted back down the steep, windy road riding the emergency break. We eventually found another human on the mountain and got some water in the engine, but the problem was not fixed. We continued to drift back to the city and eventually, somehow made it back to Angelo’s house where we let the car cool down as we watched the last 15km of the day’s leg of the Tour de France. Before heading off to the train station to send me back to Padova, Angelo showed me a bunch of skiing pictures from the past winter – it was pretty hilarious, he’s such a funny, generous, amazing guy. And then I was on the train “home.”

Wednesday was such an eventful day because soon after arriving back in Padova, Manuela, Valentina, Andrea, and I were off to the Sherwood Festival. The previous night, The Flaming Lips played there (note that they had just come from Norway, as I had)! But Wednesday was a super cool, chill night and I met a bunch of Andrea’s and Valentina’s friends, as well as Andrea’s brother Alberto and his girlfriend Claudia. The festival had some really great craft booths, too! I finally found my dream purse…handmade from Italian leather…totally foxy…45 Euro. Worth it. After the festival, I changed home-base location to Valentina and Andrea’s house out in the country.

Thursday morning began with breakfast (pastries and coffee) with Andrea’s amazing parents! Despite language barriers, it was still very clear that they were entirely lovely. Post-breakfast, Valentina and I headed into the city center for a bit of touristy things and a lot of shopping! Mmmmm ohhhhh it pains me to think back on how incredible the shopping was in Italy compared to here. All in all, I only bought two shirts (one was a serious splurge but I adore it), a scarf that I wear way too much, and some perfume…honestly, I don’t remember what perfume I bought…I wrote it in my blog notes that I bought perfume buuuuut….hmm mystery. But other than shopping, we also visited Saint Anthony’s Basilica. WOW that was overwhelming yet I didn’t want to leave because it was so impressive. If I remember correctly, Saint Anthony of Padova is the saint of lost things…and along his tomb people have left pictures of loved ones they have lost. I literally couldn’t even look at the hoards of pictures because I was getting all teary. This trip, I tell ya, I was just emotionally overloaded being in Italy, with all the family significance and such. Catholicism makes me emotional, also. I just feel like it’s part of my identity in such a way, being many relatives and ancestors are religious, but I just can’t make the connection…nor am I sure I want any such connection. Internal struggles, I tell ya. And as much as I wanted to say the prayer, and put my hand on his tomb, as nearly everyone else around, I just couldn’t do it. Too much for me to handle…next time though, I’ll be more emotionally prepared. Other than that interesting moment, the church was beautiful! Except maybe the small, shriveled, enshrined piece of flesh that once was Saint Anthony’s tongue. That was just a bit gross.

That night began with a tramezzino and a spritz in the Padova city center, followed by a delicious, very Italian dinner at Andrea’s parent’s house. Despite mosquito sprays and candles burning, I was the only one being eaten alive. Common theme of this trip. Can’t help it, it’s just my sweet blood! OH and this dinner had the BEST background music…I think only Andrea and I heard it because we were the only ones commenting on the hilarity and singing along – the TV just inside the window was on MTV which was having some sort of 90s throwback music video sesh. The 90s was an unfortunate decade for music (and style and most other things), but oh how it has a place in my heart…Our visit to Andrea’s parents’ house ended with watching them salsa dance for us. I can’t even begin to tell you how cute they are…

Following dinner, we were headed out to a bar along with Alberto and Claudia to meet up with a bunch of all of their friends. We ended up at a giant outdoor bar where I met more people than I can even name. Everyone was so nice, and Andrea conveniently knew the bartender (I swear his name was Lucas), who was particularly friendly and called me his “special guest.” Grammy’s don’t read this: it was a blurry night full of free drinks, meter-long straws (only person at the entire place with one like a looooser), and wonderful Italians! Especially unexpected moment of the night: so this whole time I pretty much thought I was the only non-local at this bar, but while in line for the bathroom a guy walked up to me and commented on the length of the line, in English! Chatted him up a bit and found out he’s the drummer of a band I know (Kasabian) and they were all there just hanging out after they played a show that night…whatttt. That was cool. And then Andrea, Valentina, and I headed home.

Friday morning was rougher than most. We woke up pretty early and headed into the city for a bit of strolling and shopping with the family. Ahh I miss the smell of the markets in the plazas…so many fresh fruits and vegetables, then the little stands with meats and vegetables galore. Mmm. Post-city was a much-needed naptime, which was then followed by a most excellent event in the evening – Festa del Redentore in Venice!

Upon arrival in Venice, we went off on a long trek across the city, originally aiming for the main square but changed our route to go meet up with Andrea’s parents on a sailboat docked on the other side of the city. In order to get to such a place, we crossed the once-a-year floating bridge constructed specifically for this occasion. But first we strolled the alleyways, had a spritz along the Grand Canal, observed the high tide flooding the edges of the canals and the lowest bits of the city, including parts of Saint Mark’s square and church itself. Then we continued on, crossed the Rialto Bridge, window shopped to our hearts’ content, then continued on to the boat. We picked up some pizzas and beers along the way and settled in for a great night.

We ate pizza, we drank wine, I tried some octopus, they grilled some sea beam, and all was well. Valentina and I had the most amazing conversation that evening – she told me about my great grandmother and how she was actually born and died in Venice and our relatives are a part of the Murano glass industry. It just blew my mind to be finding this out while sitting on a boat in Venice, my great grandmother’s turf. This was her home. As if the night couldn’t get any better, the fireworks then began over the water and it was just beautiful. Venice was alight with pyrotechnics. I took some vid’s…maybe you’ll see them sometime, somehow. When the night was through, we meandered the hidden backstreets of Venice for at least an hour until we reached the car and exhaustedly headed home.

And so the next day marked my last day in Italy. It began with the ultimate Italian breakfast of delicious mini pastries (dessert for breakfast, Italians know how to prioritize) and a cappuccino, followed by more shopping (a major part of the trip), then we went to Manuela’s for a goodbye lunch.

The trip ended in reverse order as it began the first night, a cozy homecooked meal (this lunch was pasta with pesto, melon with ginger, chicken, buffala, tomatoes, vino mmmm) with Manuela, Pierro, Valentina, and Andrea then off to the airport with Valentina and Andrea. Saying goodbye was hard. Even though we’ve pre-planned my return in February, it felt like I was leaving home, like my real home, again. Italy and the family definitely struck a chord with me…I’m hooked.

Even now, over two months later, I can still clearly hear Valentina’s ciaos, Manuela’s great under-her-breath remarks while driving the crazy streets of Padova, and Pierro’s gentle “tutto bene.” I can still taste the pine nuts, the fresh fruit cocktail Manuela made every morning, the cough syrup she gave me for my nagging illness. I can still feel the intense humidity, the sense of being surrounded by so much history, the nagging itch of the mosquito bites…the whole time, people kept repeating that I must have sweet blood…and it’s true. I left Italy with a real awareness of my “sangue dolce” – my Vernizzi blood.

As many of you know, lots has happened since my Italy trip. My next blog will cover my visit from Robb Wills and our trip to Trolltunga, a short trip with friends to Voss, a weekend surf trip in southern Norway, and a fjord excursion in hot pursuit of fall colors….and maybe more. I’m off to Croatia Thursday morning so hang tight!

Love,

Emily