I'm not quite sure where to begin. I've spent the week in lovely Modena, home of Ferrari, Maserati, Pavarotti, and Italy's best balsamic vinegar (not in that order). The people here consider their city to be located in a very flat area, and I suppose it is, but I don't really think it's fair to say that when you've got four layers of mountains as a backdrop to your everyday life.
My family lives in a sort of suburby area of the city- wait, can classify an area as suburby if there's no corresponding urba area? Because all they've got here is the 'Center,' which is an old cobblestoned area where all the churches and bars and pizzerias are. Don't get me wrong, it's very nice, but the city as a whole is not as big as I'd expected. Anyway, I'm out in La Madonnina, which is the same area the school is located in. Literally, I can see the playground from our 7th floor kitchen window. It's maybe 2 minutes walking.
I taught the same level this week as I did last week. There were seven in the class, and I'm not lying when I say one of the boys had the surname Ferrari. Apparently it's quite common here. There were two Lorenzos, one of whom was my little brother. They were a really sharp bunch, actually, and the week went quickly.
Of course, we spent a fair amount of time just playing dodgeball, but we pretty much completed our workbooks, which impressed me, at least. That requires more focus than most 10 year olds possess.
One of the boys, the other Lorenzo, pretty much had a massive crush on me. I thought I was just imagining it, actually, until our camp director asked me about it during dinner. When the class was doing drawings of the camp director and myself, Lorenzo 2 drew me as quite voluptuous, and took a lot of care with the eyes and the hair. When we were going somewhere (like to the gym to play dodgeball, for instance), he would wait behind to walk with me. I probably encouraged it by developing a rivalry with him in dodgeball- I would always make sure I was on the opposite team as him (just because he was the only kid I didn't feel bad about absolutely pegging). So that was a little weird. Also, if you are keeping track, the latest song on the European soundtrack is officially 'Hot For Teacher' by Van Halen. I think it's fitting.
A trio of actors from our program's theatre division showed up on Thursday to do a show for our kids. They teach through acting, and it was actually a really funny show. Originally, they'd intended to do a program based around the Wizard of Oz, but they decided to go with Robin Hood instead when they heard our kids' ages. I was a little disappointed, I'll admit, but I probably just would have criticized Dorothy anyway.
Anyway, they were really funny. They'd told us over dinner the night before that they try to do things which are funny for the kids, but then they also might add some lines which go completely over the kids' heads and crack the tutors up. The girl playing Robin was a chirpy Kiwi who came onstage with an eyeliner moustache halfway through the show. Lady Marian was played by a South African girl who decided to make the artistic decision to portray Lady Marian as a Southern Belle. The guy who played the Sheriff was a Brit who, while talking with Robin, slipped in the line, 'So you're fast? Maybe. Strong? Sure. But good? Not according to Lady Marian,' which I found funnier than it probably actually was. Anyway, they were funny, and the kids learned prepositions, action verbs, how to pronounce the h sound in English, and a whole lot more.
Their performance motivated our kids when we were planning for our finl show. I had one big goal for this week, and that was to have a better show than last week. So I talked it over with the kids, and I think we put together something pretty great. Again, I indulged the kids when it came to character selection, so we had Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, Captain Hook, Agent Smith from the Matrix, Neo from the Matrix, and LeBron James and Kobe Bryant (and we nearly had Harry Potter and Pinocchio in there too). Basically, the storyline was, Peter and Tink get kidnapped by Hook and Smith while wandering through Never Land, but then Peter calls Neo for help, but then Hook stabs Neo, who calls Kobe, who shows up with LeBron and beats the baddies by throwing basketballs at them. I was struggling to find a good way to wrap it up, though, and the only thing I could think of was to add a closing dance number.
The kids had never heard of any of the dances I suggested. Finally one of the girls mentions 13 Going on 30, and wouldn't you know it, I'd brought it with me to Italy (it's a classic, okay).
Well, the dance scene we wanted to watch from that movie was a recreation of the dance from Michael Jackson's Thriller video.
So we spent all Thursday afternoon going through the scene in 13 Going on 30 (by the way, in Italian it's called something like 30 in a Second or a Moment or an Instant, I can't remember which) and putting together a really basic routine which was made up primarily of head bobbing, but which ended with that really sweet werewolf/zombie move from the video. That was the only homework I gave the kids that night- go home and memorize your lines + plus the routine, because it was the saving grace of our show.
You know what's coming next. Apparently, Michael Jackson died overnight. I really honestly thought our camp director was joking when she informed me. There was some quick thinking involved, but ultimately, we decided to leave the routine in and call it a tribute.
We spent several hours rehearsing, and a couple more hours taking advantage of the sound system to do karaoke onstage. Josephine manned my music collection, and as a result, I sang a medley of Sweet Child o' Mine, Don't Stop Believing, Back in Black, Dance Dance, Mr. Brightside, Welcome to the Jungle, Don't Go Breaking My Heart, and Hells Bells. (The AC/DC was by request from our students.) Air drums and air guitar were provided by 6 year old Simone and 8 year old Gabriele. I think that got us all loosey goosey and relaxed for the show.
The final performance well, actually. I had to stand at the back and mirror all the moves so the kids wouldn't get lost, but still, I was entertained at least. The parents didn't seemed weirded out by the fact that I called our show a Michael Jackson tribute. In hindsight, though, the Thriller dance performed by a bunch of prepubescent boys during a show which is set in Never Land seems almost an uncomfortably apt tribute to Michael Jackson.
Anyway. May he rest in peace.
Tomorrow: train to Trevi. Should be about five hours (could mean six, the way the Italian train system operates). Josephine's going too. It's a two week camp, which means we'll be celebrating the Fourth of July (plus Katsy's birthday) while we're there. We're making plans to honor our great nation already. Let me know if you've got any ideas.
I think that's all for now. As soon as I've got wifi I'll upload vids and pics. Love and miss everyone! Talk to you all soon, hopefully!
26 June 2009
20 June 2009
'One Night with Bruno'
Yesterday was both the last day of camp and our last day in Modigliana. We spent most of the day getting ready for the show, but honestly, it didn't show. My kids dropped lines like nobody's business, so much so that our skit lasted about 3 minutes, including a song (Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes). I stretched it a little by singing Happy Birthday to Denis at the end, but really, there was no hope anyway for a skit entitled 'Poke-Garfield.' As long as the kids are happy with it, and the parents get to hear their kids speaking what sounds like English to them, it's all good.
For dinner, we went up to Bruno's country house. It was in a very rustic area, just a little stone cabin surrounded by hills and trees. The views on the drive up were amazing, but unfortunately, once we got up there I was unable to take any pictures because of the foliage. Josephine was there, Olga and Raffaele were there, our camp directors were there, and then there was Bruno, Bruno's sister and nieces (one of whom was in my class), his mother, and the woman who cleaned the school, plus her husband and son. I think that was everyone.
We all sat in this old room, with a stone floor, whitewashed walls, and a cracked ceiling. It was the sort of thing you see in a movie, or in a chic home magazine. Everyone was around a U-shaped table, and Bruno's sister and the cleaning lady brought in pizzas one by one. Then there was a soupy thing of fruit, and more fruit, and some alcohol, and gelato. After that, Bruno gave us each a piece of paper with his phone number and e-mail address on it, right before sending around a paper upon which we were each to write our own addresses. Josephine and I weren't really sure what to do, so we didn't write anything. When Bruno noticed, we told him we'd e-mail him. He asked us if we had his address, and we pulled out the pieces of paper he'd given us moments before, and he looked stunned. Really, really strange guy.
We all got together for a group pic before we left, so Josephine would never, ever forget Bruno. I ended up being trapped on the end, and he came to stand next to me. I sort of leaned in so I wouldn't look unfriendly, and next thing I knew he had his arm around me. When the pictures were over, he took the opportunity to rub my back for a second before giving me the old two-cheek-kisses goodbye. In the car, later, Josephine and I looked at the pictures on her camera, and in all of them, my face expresses varying degrees of horror. It would be funny if the whole situation hadn't been so terrifying.
After dinner, Rosaria and Ermes drove us back to Forli to spend the night so we could be on the train the next day. We slept on their pullout couch, and Ermes pointed out to us that the sheets on said couch had been Rosaria's wedding sheets from her first (failed) marriage. Not awkward at all.
Got on the train at 1.30. Got off the train at 3 or so in Modena. I forgot to mention, it's still me and Josephine, and we're still the only two tutors at a brand new camp. I'll be teaching a similarly-sized class at the same level as the last one, so that's good.
Hung out with the camp director and her husband? brother? It wasn't made clear. However, he is exactly what I would expect an Italian man to look like. . . if the year were 1975. He's balding, but he's grown his hair out fairly long for a psychology professor (although I believe he was recently made redundant so that could explain it). He wore burgundy polyester pants and carried a jacket made of some weird material. His glasses were horn-rimmed and slightly shaded, and his shirt was unbuttoned nearly half-way, exposing a large quantity of chest hair. He had a gold necklace entangled in said chest hair. And he smoked like a chimney.
He took us on a tour of central Modena. That was entertaining. Then I was driven to meet my family. They are Milva, her husband Francesco, and their sons Lorenzo (9) and Gianmarco (19). They're all super nice, but they don't speak English well at all, although they do try. We all sat around the dinner table tonight (while they fed me dish after delicious dish) and tried to understand each other. Originally it sounded like their plan for me was to head out with Gianmarco and his friends to a disco or something, but I guess he ended up going out with just his girlfriend so now I'm here!
I feel like I had more, funnier things to tell you, and I feel like you all must be so disappointed when I have only boring things to say. Sorry about that.
Anyway, Lorezo's waiting for me so I must go.
More later, including the vid of 'Poke-Garfield.' Get excited.
Love!
For dinner, we went up to Bruno's country house. It was in a very rustic area, just a little stone cabin surrounded by hills and trees. The views on the drive up were amazing, but unfortunately, once we got up there I was unable to take any pictures because of the foliage. Josephine was there, Olga and Raffaele were there, our camp directors were there, and then there was Bruno, Bruno's sister and nieces (one of whom was in my class), his mother, and the woman who cleaned the school, plus her husband and son. I think that was everyone.
We all sat in this old room, with a stone floor, whitewashed walls, and a cracked ceiling. It was the sort of thing you see in a movie, or in a chic home magazine. Everyone was around a U-shaped table, and Bruno's sister and the cleaning lady brought in pizzas one by one. Then there was a soupy thing of fruit, and more fruit, and some alcohol, and gelato. After that, Bruno gave us each a piece of paper with his phone number and e-mail address on it, right before sending around a paper upon which we were each to write our own addresses. Josephine and I weren't really sure what to do, so we didn't write anything. When Bruno noticed, we told him we'd e-mail him. He asked us if we had his address, and we pulled out the pieces of paper he'd given us moments before, and he looked stunned. Really, really strange guy.
We all got together for a group pic before we left, so Josephine would never, ever forget Bruno. I ended up being trapped on the end, and he came to stand next to me. I sort of leaned in so I wouldn't look unfriendly, and next thing I knew he had his arm around me. When the pictures were over, he took the opportunity to rub my back for a second before giving me the old two-cheek-kisses goodbye. In the car, later, Josephine and I looked at the pictures on her camera, and in all of them, my face expresses varying degrees of horror. It would be funny if the whole situation hadn't been so terrifying.
After dinner, Rosaria and Ermes drove us back to Forli to spend the night so we could be on the train the next day. We slept on their pullout couch, and Ermes pointed out to us that the sheets on said couch had been Rosaria's wedding sheets from her first (failed) marriage. Not awkward at all.
Got on the train at 1.30. Got off the train at 3 or so in Modena. I forgot to mention, it's still me and Josephine, and we're still the only two tutors at a brand new camp. I'll be teaching a similarly-sized class at the same level as the last one, so that's good.
Hung out with the camp director and her husband? brother? It wasn't made clear. However, he is exactly what I would expect an Italian man to look like. . . if the year were 1975. He's balding, but he's grown his hair out fairly long for a psychology professor (although I believe he was recently made redundant so that could explain it). He wore burgundy polyester pants and carried a jacket made of some weird material. His glasses were horn-rimmed and slightly shaded, and his shirt was unbuttoned nearly half-way, exposing a large quantity of chest hair. He had a gold necklace entangled in said chest hair. And he smoked like a chimney.
He took us on a tour of central Modena. That was entertaining. Then I was driven to meet my family. They are Milva, her husband Francesco, and their sons Lorenzo (9) and Gianmarco (19). They're all super nice, but they don't speak English well at all, although they do try. We all sat around the dinner table tonight (while they fed me dish after delicious dish) and tried to understand each other. Originally it sounded like their plan for me was to head out with Gianmarco and his friends to a disco or something, but I guess he ended up going out with just his girlfriend so now I'm here!
I feel like I had more, funnier things to tell you, and I feel like you all must be so disappointed when I have only boring things to say. Sorry about that.
Anyway, Lorezo's waiting for me so I must go.
More later, including the vid of 'Poke-Garfield.' Get excited.
Love!
18 June 2009
Next stop: Modena
"Where troubles melt like lemondrops, high above the chimney tops, that's where you'll find me. . ."
Found out this morning where I go next: Modena. Stress on the first syllable. It's in the same region (Emilia-Romagna) as Modigliana, but about an hour and a half to the north-northwest by train. I'll be leaving Saturday afternoon at 1:30. I was trying to figure out where I'd heard the name, until someone told me: all the balsamic vinegar bottles around here are labelled 'di Modena,' so that's good.
The last two days have been pretty good at camp. The kids are getting maybe a little too comfortable with us (for instance, they know that all my threats are empty), but we've got the final show pretty much ready to go for tomorrow, so that's good. I expect Poke-Garfield to be a rousing success which everyone will be talking about for years to come.
My Italian is definitely improving. I think now I might actually be at the level I claimed to be at on my application- 2/10. This morning I asked Alberto in Italian how his 'son' was doing, and he said he was well. Later I asked him where he was, and he said that he was at home. Remember, Alberto's 'son' is a monster drawn with marker on a yellow balloon. He had a face, prominent eyebrows, horns, lopsided arms and legs, as well as male genitalia. I'm pretty sure the boys (or little Alberto at least) are completely obsessed with that kind of thing. Josephine told me that yesterday, Alberto and Matteo P spent a large chunk of time just kicking each other in the crotch. Today, during dodgeball, I noticed a bunch of boys standing around Alberto and laughing, so I went to see what was up, and he pulled his shirt down quickly. "Che cosa sta facendo?" I asked him. Finally he showed me. He had taken a big piece of cardboard and left it hanging out of his open fly. I'm embarrassed to say that it made me laugh. A lot.
So that's favorite pasttime number one of the boys in our camp. Favorite pasttime number two is throwing things at my chest when I'm looking away. The best part is, these boys aren't going to get more mature. They may get smarter, and they'll get older, but they will still be laughing at that sort of thing 20 or 30 years from now.
Heard some more good Bruno stories when Josephine came over for dinner last night (we couldn't leave her with him). Apparently, Bruno: a) watches the movie Anastasia (yes, it's animated) with his nieces so he can have an excuse to cry, b) claims the wild animals at his country house recognize him and follow him in a line when he goes up there, c) they also speak to him, d) he may or may not have special needs, and e) we've already established that he's a hoarder, which is a sign of obsessive compulsive behaviour. Diagnosis, anyone?
Went running tonight for the first time in what felt like forever. I think I explained in a previous post (Llanes, perhaps?) that I firmly believe that running through a new town is one of the best ways to get to know it. The run didn't kill me like I'd expected it to, which I think is a sign that running around with kids for ten hours a day is actually pretty decent exercise. I mean, you have no idea how much time we spend playing dodgeball (a couple of hours, at least), and you'd better believe I participate. I feel like a sniper out there. Sometimes when a ball comes to me I'll hand it off to one of the little ones, but more often than not I'll start charging to the line, and then everyone on the other team will run the other way, screaming. There's one boy I sort of pick on (is that bad?), because he enjoys taunting other people while we're playing. I wait til he turns around and shakes his butt at me, and then I reach back and knock him over with a fastball (overhand). Sometimes I let the children hide behind me so they can get all the way to the line before they throw, but usually it's the other way around. Realizing I use children as body shields signified a new low for me.
Today, actually, I was more or less responsible for a near concussion. There's one girl, Agnese, who I don't feel bad for hitting because she's a champion wrestler who can definitely hold her own against the boys. So today when she was going for a loose ball, I let one fly. It was headed straight for her head, so she ducked out of the way. . . straight into a wall. I really felt bad about that, because she's a tough girl and she was crying. At least no parents were called- I can see that being a tough one to explain.
All right, Olga's just finished preparing dinner, so I've got to go. Possibly more later! Love!
Found out this morning where I go next: Modena. Stress on the first syllable. It's in the same region (Emilia-Romagna) as Modigliana, but about an hour and a half to the north-northwest by train. I'll be leaving Saturday afternoon at 1:30. I was trying to figure out where I'd heard the name, until someone told me: all the balsamic vinegar bottles around here are labelled 'di Modena,' so that's good.
The last two days have been pretty good at camp. The kids are getting maybe a little too comfortable with us (for instance, they know that all my threats are empty), but we've got the final show pretty much ready to go for tomorrow, so that's good. I expect Poke-Garfield to be a rousing success which everyone will be talking about for years to come.
My Italian is definitely improving. I think now I might actually be at the level I claimed to be at on my application- 2/10. This morning I asked Alberto in Italian how his 'son' was doing, and he said he was well. Later I asked him where he was, and he said that he was at home. Remember, Alberto's 'son' is a monster drawn with marker on a yellow balloon. He had a face, prominent eyebrows, horns, lopsided arms and legs, as well as male genitalia. I'm pretty sure the boys (or little Alberto at least) are completely obsessed with that kind of thing. Josephine told me that yesterday, Alberto and Matteo P spent a large chunk of time just kicking each other in the crotch. Today, during dodgeball, I noticed a bunch of boys standing around Alberto and laughing, so I went to see what was up, and he pulled his shirt down quickly. "Che cosa sta facendo?" I asked him. Finally he showed me. He had taken a big piece of cardboard and left it hanging out of his open fly. I'm embarrassed to say that it made me laugh. A lot.
So that's favorite pasttime number one of the boys in our camp. Favorite pasttime number two is throwing things at my chest when I'm looking away. The best part is, these boys aren't going to get more mature. They may get smarter, and they'll get older, but they will still be laughing at that sort of thing 20 or 30 years from now.
Heard some more good Bruno stories when Josephine came over for dinner last night (we couldn't leave her with him). Apparently, Bruno: a) watches the movie Anastasia (yes, it's animated) with his nieces so he can have an excuse to cry, b) claims the wild animals at his country house recognize him and follow him in a line when he goes up there, c) they also speak to him, d) he may or may not have special needs, and e) we've already established that he's a hoarder, which is a sign of obsessive compulsive behaviour. Diagnosis, anyone?
Went running tonight for the first time in what felt like forever. I think I explained in a previous post (Llanes, perhaps?) that I firmly believe that running through a new town is one of the best ways to get to know it. The run didn't kill me like I'd expected it to, which I think is a sign that running around with kids for ten hours a day is actually pretty decent exercise. I mean, you have no idea how much time we spend playing dodgeball (a couple of hours, at least), and you'd better believe I participate. I feel like a sniper out there. Sometimes when a ball comes to me I'll hand it off to one of the little ones, but more often than not I'll start charging to the line, and then everyone on the other team will run the other way, screaming. There's one boy I sort of pick on (is that bad?), because he enjoys taunting other people while we're playing. I wait til he turns around and shakes his butt at me, and then I reach back and knock him over with a fastball (overhand). Sometimes I let the children hide behind me so they can get all the way to the line before they throw, but usually it's the other way around. Realizing I use children as body shields signified a new low for me.
Today, actually, I was more or less responsible for a near concussion. There's one girl, Agnese, who I don't feel bad for hitting because she's a champion wrestler who can definitely hold her own against the boys. So today when she was going for a loose ball, I let one fly. It was headed straight for her head, so she ducked out of the way. . . straight into a wall. I really felt bad about that, because she's a tough girl and she was crying. At least no parents were called- I can see that being a tough one to explain.
All right, Olga's just finished preparing dinner, so I've got to go. Possibly more later! Love!
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