Talking With Your Hands

The Italians are known for their expressive manner, especially, talking with their hands. The wood restoration boys and I have learned a number of them. I got some of the SYA Italy students to demonstrate them for you.

Jesse R. of Texas saying "It's good (usually in reference to food)"

Nicole B. of Maryland/New Jersey "knocking on wood."

Becca L. of Oregon telling us "she doesn't know."

Haley M. of Illinois/Connecticut shaking her hands and saying "boring."

Emily B. of California tell you that "you're crazy."

Rebecca D. of New Jersey telling us that "she's hungry."

Drew C. of New Mexico going "COME ON!!!"

Erin G. of New Jersey/Connecticut is "f***ing"

Bria R. of Massachusetts and Khoe T. of Washington State going "WHAT THE HELL?!!?!?"

Charlotte H. of Wisconsin and Michaela D. of California/Rhode Island are "begging, pretty please!"

Sara B. of New Mexico and Ben K. of Illinois telling us "I'm f***ing your wife!"

Italian Parking

The streets of Viterbo are a sight to behold with the crazy parking of cars that people get away with. So, today, I took my camera with me as I walked to and from the Mensa (dining hall, has nothing to do with how smart you are) to document just some of the parking violations I saw. To give you a measure of the enormity of crazy parking, all these pictures were taken in the 1/3 kilometer walk between school and the Mensa. Enjoy.

VIOLATION #1 (starting from least offensive to most egregious) Parking too far from the curb.

VIOLATION #2 On a downhill slope, tires not turned towards curb.

VIOLATION #3 Parking in a crosswalk

VIOLATION #4 Double Parking - Parallel Variant

VIOLATION #5 Double Parking - Perpendicular Variant

VIOLATION #6 Parking ON the sidewalk

Not technically a violation, but cars parked pointing in three directions.

VIOLATION #7 Parking diagonal in a parallel parking spot

Olive Picking at Gigi & Mena's

Gigi and Mena, my local grocery couple invited me to come to their grove of olives to harvest olives. I got there and there were a total of six of us. As the day went on, the total number of family members and friends totaled eighteen. It was truly a family affair as it seemed as three-quarters of the olive pickers/workers/volunteers were related to Mena, Gigi's husband.

Gigi's acreage has about 100 to 130 olive trees. Harvest season is late fall.

Most of the trees were laden with olives.

Low hanging olives are simply "picked" by using a scraper or your hands and just pulling them off the branches. I have never experienced an easier agricultural experience. You don't have to bend down, you simply let the olives drop onto the tarp below and there are no sharp things to worry about. In addition, you don't have to worry about nipping buds or worry about breaking branches. You just pull and go.

Mena's Dad in action. He too, like my grandfather has three daughters. Mena's the oldest, like my Mom. That makes Gigi, the same role in the family as my Dad.

Classically Italian. This friend came out to harvest olives in her blue velour sweat suit and gold shoes.




Gigi here with the machine that shakes down the high olives.

The olives simply fall onto the tarp. The olives are gathered into the middle and then dumped into a bin.

No more olives!

Break to grab some coffee and pastries. Just a little something!

Olives are put on a table to pick out the big branches and to remove the larger stems.

Next, they are dumped into a machine that blows out the majority of the leaves.

The blower in action.

Olives ready for bagging.

After picking, LUNCH! Eggplant Lasagna and a White Lasagna are appetizer. Then small pizzas with meat and then sandwiches with mozzarella and tomatoes. Some wine and water and then finishing up with some sweets.

Mena's parents eating lunch. The other student and I were the only ones to speak any English I had break out my Italian. It's amazing how well circumlocution works. I may not know how to say that it's sunny, but I can tell you it's not raining or snowing. It all worked out and 80% of the time, I could figure out how to say what I want or figure out what was being said to me. Charades are useful and the fact that I only use the infinitive form of the verb doesn't seem to matter at all.

We finished picking 28 trees and this is only half of the bags we filled. The olives next go to the olive oil press here in Viterbo. Hopefully I'll get to see it in action in the next few weeks.