On The Lam In Tuscany: Running To Life: February 2011

Sunday, February 20, 2011

It Is Just The Italian Way

Living in Italy has meant adjusting to a whole new way of life. So much is so very different here. Of course there is the challenge of dealing with a whole new language. That is for another blog. Then there are the people; the wonderful Italians. They are so warm and friendly. Whether I am out for a run, or Libby and I are making our way through the city, I am often stopped by a very friendly Italian just for a chat. At first I was guardedly taken back by being stopped for a chat, but now it is just part of my day. Can you imagine walking in Toronto and being stopped for a friendly chat? No!!! In Toronto we go from point A to point B barely making eye contact with those around us and hoping, really hoping, that no one bothers us. You would never even think to take a moment to chat with a stranger, and if a stranger tried to stop you the first thought that would come to mind would be how do I get away from this person as quickly as possible without incident.

While so much about Florence is wonderful, there are times when I shake my head as there just does not seem to be any sense to the way that they do some things here. Let's just say that clarity and efficiency do not seem to be priorities for Italians.....and I am told that it has been that way for a very long time, so I am thinking it is just one of those things that one has to accept. I have wanted to work on being better able to "go with the flow", rather than needing everything to go just so. Let me tell you that Italy is turning out to be the perfect place for me to work on this bit of personal growth.

Last week I headed out looking for a business. With the address in hand, and my trusty map, I headed out with confidence. I was aware that Florence has, lets just call it, a unique address system. Business addresses have red numbers, private homes have blue numbers and each numbering system is independent of the other. That means that, for example, there could be a 6 (red) Via Guelfa and a 6 (blue) Via Guelfa and each address could be a 10 minute walk from one another; they most certainly are not side by side. Because I was going to a business I thought okay I am looking for a red number. Off I went. I found the red numbered address no problem, but it was a clothing store, not what I was looking for. Then I thought, okay maybe for some reason it is a blue number. Ten minutes later I found the blue numbered address; it was apartments. Then I thought, well maybe it is above the clothing store, but still the same red numbered address. So, back I went. Nope. While I would not say that I have the mouth of a trucker, I have been known to utter a profane word here and there if frustrated. This was just such a case. There I was standing on a street talking to myself, no doubt with a confused look on my face, not able to find an address, but not wanting to call and look like a "stupid" North American. Yes, I turned into a man and refused to ask directions. However, after another 15 minutes of wandering up and down the street I was forced to call. It was then that I learned that I needed to be looking for a black number. I immediately said to myself, "What the hell, where did black numbers come from. No one told me about them". Good thing no one was following me that day because with all the talking to myself I am sure I would have been locked up for a psychiatric evaluation. Searching for the address drove me so crazy that I almost felt like I needed one.

When looking for a business address you also have to keep in mind that businesses do not have signage from the street like they do in Canada. Unless it is a retail store, or a restaurant, the signage consists of a small half inch by two inch plaque on a door, along with other small plaques. And I have come to learn that these doors are often just facades, so while you think that there is no way that a business could be located there, indeed it is. Behind the doors is often a whole other world. When opened up they can reveal a beautiful courtyard with apartments or businesses above. Opening a large door can reveal a concealed parking area, with apartments or businesses above. Although if the buildings are not equipped to vent dryers I am left wondering how all the carbon monoxide is vented out. Behind the doors could also been a concealed lovely public green space. You just don't know until the door is opened up.

I did find the business that I was looking for, and came away with what I thought was an understanding of the Florence address system - red numbers are for commercial businesses like shops or restaurants, blue numbers for residences and black numbers for non-commercial businesses. No problem. I had it down pat. Never again would I wander up and down a street with a dazed looked on my face, talking to myself, looking for a particular address. It didn't take long for this sense of understanding to be shattered.

This week I once again headed out address in hand. This time for a gathering that was being hosted at a non-commercial business. No problem, I thought to myself. I am looking for a black number. Well, on that particular street there was no black 21, and red 21 was a retail shop that was closed. Once again I was left wandering up and down a street uttering not very lady-like words to myself. Just as I was about to give up and go home I saw several people approaching blue 21. We all with hesitation looked for a little plaque with the business name and yes, it was there. But what the hell, now I see that some businesses can in fact be located in what are also residential buildings, hence why the address is a blue number. But keep in mind that there could be a blue and black address of the same number on another street. It just happened to not be the case on this particular street. This address system had to have been invented by a man, because there is no way a woman would have come up with such a confusing system. We women like simplicity and clarity.

As I told my story at the gathering, people laughed as they have all experienced the same frustration. As I searched for input that would help me to understand the address system here in Florence one man said to me, "It doesn't make sense, it is just the Italian way". He then went on to offer me a glass of wine, which is also very much the Italian way. I don't know, maybe years ago it was after several glasses of good Italian wine that some man came up with this Italian address system. That would explain why it is so confusing. We have all had nights where after a bottle of wine something seemed to be totally reasonable, but in the light of the next day we wondered what were we thinking. And you know how men don't like to admit when they make a mistake or are wrong.
I accepted the glass of wine, and I have also accepted that when I need to get to a particular address at a particular time I am going to have to leave myself extra time to figure out just what colour address I am really looking for. While the Italian way often not not make sense to North Americans, clearly they are doing something right as they seem to out live us. Maybe it is just that they have accepted that after years and years of dealing with things that at times simply don't make sense, they just don't get upset about things that they cannot control and they carry on with their day. Perhaps there is something to be said for the Italian way after all.

Happy Valentine's Day from Florence

I am going to come out of the closet and admit that I love the show "Glee". I know, I know, it is a show that is geared towards teenagers, but I love the music; music that sometimes makes me feel so happy that I want to get up and dance, and music that sometimes make me think. As a parent, I like the show because it tackles complex issues that teens struggle with, but often are not talked about. While I initially got hooked on Glee watching it with my teenage daughter and her friends, I have continued to watch it because it is like going to a great musical every week. While I am confessing, I will also admit to owning a Glee CD. I have to wonder how many other parents watch the show, not because their teenager likes it, but because they secretly enjoy the music. Surely I am not the only "Over 40 Glee Geek". Maybe we need to start a new phenomenon where the closeted over 40 Glee lovers write on their Facebook status...."I am over 40 and I love Glee".

This week the show centred around Valentine's Day. A day that many dread because they find themselves without a boyfriend/girlfriend, a lover or a partner. A day that makes many feel alone in the world. Mr. Shue challenged the kids to pick a song that best communicated what they felt love was. That got me thinking about what love is for me. Love....a four letter word that while often tossed around loosely and without meaning, is at the same time not expressed enough.

For me love is about walking through life with someone that you can just be you with; it is about laughter; it is about loyalty; it is about being nurtured when you need it, and nurturing someone when you know they need it; it is about being able to share your dreams, your hopes and your fears with someone who wants to hear them and you wanting to hear theirs; it is about sharing life's passions, and yes sometimes sharing life's tears; it is about celebrating the good times and being there during the difficult times; it is about taking a stand for someone when it may not be easy to; it is about reminding someone how special they are to you on days when they aren't feeling so special; it is about feeling so safe with someone that you feel like you can face anything as long as you have them beside you; it is about getting a smile on your face when you hear the voice of that special someone, or even just think about them; it is about being able to feel their hug even when their arms are not around you; and it is about knowing with certainty that that person will be there when you call, and being there when you are called.

Okay, now the "Glee Geek" in me is coming out because I want to stand up and start singing the Carole King song "You've Got A Friend". When I look back, the best lovers I have had have been great friends, and still are to this day; and my friends are people that I have shared great love with.

Valentine's Day has been defined as a day that celebrates love and affection between "intimate companions". Intimacy can be defined in many ways other than sexual. In fact, you can be sexual with someone and share absolutely no intimacy, and you can share great intimacy with someone who you are not sexual with. Who says that Valentine's Day has to be a day only for "lovers", other than the chocolate, jewellery, flower and greeting card industries? In fact, the early links to Valentine's Day were more focused on sacrifice than romantic love; for me a truer meaning of love. So while I do not have a lover in my life this Valentine's Day (the first time since I have been a teenager), I will take time to think about those that I know truly love me - I am not alone. I will also take time to think about the people I love; whether it be a past lover, a friend, a family member or someone that is very special to me. Love, true love, is not lost even if there is an ocean between us. To all my Valentines - I love you, and thank you for loving me.

Chocolate......Better Than Sex.

How many times have I said that one just doesn't know what wonderful surprise you will come across in Florence. Well, it happened again. This past week, while out on a long run, I happened to come across the "Fiera del Cioccolato". Only in Italy would there be a fair dedicated to celebrating chocolate. Italians do know how to appreciate the finer things in life.

I could not resist going back and fully experiencing the fair. People keep telling me that it is important to fully immerse myself in the Italian culture. After an 8km run, I figured that I could get away with some serious immersion.

Never have I seen so much chocolate in one place. For a woman...this was heaven. I decided to indulge in a cioccolata calda con panna - hot chocolate with cream. What you need to know is that the Italian version of hot chocolate is nothing like the watery North American version. Here cioccolata calda can only be described as silky, warm, runny chocolate pudding, that is so rich and so thick that when it hits your mouth and tongue you feel as though you have just been passionately kissed by a wonderful lover. Yes, I had my Meg Ryan moment as I slowly savoured each drop. While I thought that I was just thinking the words, somehow they slipped out - "This is better than sex". I didn't realize that I actually said the words out loud until a woman beside me, who was devouring the same delicious treat, smiled at me in such a way that it was clear to me that not only did she understand every word that I said, but she also agreed. She was not offended by my words, but instead seemed to understand that is what good chocolate does; it causes you to lose control and you just immerse yourself in the pleasure of experiencing it - and it is an experience if the chocolate is really good. For a lot of women, a sinful sensual experience that can only be equated to great sex.

As I wandered around the fair I got to thinking that there isn't a woman alive who has not said at one time or another that good chocolate is better than sex. What exactly is with women's love affair with this sweet treat? Why does chocolate have such an impact on us, and in many cases a hold over us? I know I crave chocolate like I imagine someone does a cigarette. If I go more then three days without a small piece of chocolate I think about it numerous times throughout the day, my brain conjures up the taste in my mouth, and my mouth salivates with just the thought of satisfying my craving.

It turns out that there is merit to women often equating the pleasure of eating chocolate to the pleasure they feel when having great sex. Chocolate contains the chemical phenylethylamine, which causes the brain to release mesolimbic dopamine in the pleasure centres of the brain - which is found at its peak during an orgasm. Phenylethylamine has also been shown to bring on the same feelings of happiness and joy associated with being in love. The sweetness from chocolate also triggers the release of endophins - which are responsible for the heavenly happy feeling that one feels after amazing sex. The melting point of chocolate is just above body temperature, causing chocolate to perfectly melt in your mouth resulting in that sensual pleasure that we all know. There is actually a study that found that chocolate melting in your mouth results in increased brain activity and an increased heart rate, and that these increases are stronger than what a passionate kiss gives you and lasts up to four times longer. Passion and stamina - a perfect combination.

Men don't appreciate women's love affair with chocolate, but if they knew that an Italian researcher found that women who eat chocolate regularly have a better sex life, I am sure that they would be flocking to the finest chocolate store several times a week to buy chocolate for the woman in their life. It seems that chocolate has the same impact on a woman as great foreplay. So to all the men out there ..... instead of making fun of a woman's love of chocolate, you should embrace it as it seems that just as a great lover can have a profound effect on a woman, so can great chocolate - and if you happen to be there to share in the experience, well lucky you.

I Did It!!!!

Three summers ago when my best friend Liz, her two sons Jacob and Liam, my daughter Emilie, her friend Niki and I travelled to Italy, I was not able to climb to the top of the Duomo because I was recovering from a fractured ankle. Instead of being able to enjoy the breathtaking views of Florence from the top of the cupola, I laid down beside the Duomo and had a nap resting my head on a backpack. It took so much energy just to hobble about the city that I didn't care what I looked like as I fell fast asleep. To be honest, I was quite happy to not be able to climb the 463 steps to the top, as I am claustrophobic and have such a fear of heights that I do not even step up onto a chair. I don't know how long it took them all to climb to the top, but lets just say that I was well rested when I was awoken by my daughter saying, "Mom, there is no way you could have done that!". They proceeded to each take a turn telling me about their airless quest up very narrow, steep and winding steps. Something that I was glad to have had an excuse to have missed. Just listening to them recounting their claustrophobic journey gave me chest pains.

When I decided to come back to Florence, one of the things that I have been determined to do is to see Florence from above. I have been stewing about it for weeks. Just the thought of the climb triggers this feeling in my chest as if someone is standing on it, and my stomach is overtaken with butterflies. Crazy, I know, but that is what tight spaces and height does to me. I was going to wait until friends arrived to make the climb, as I thought if I went into a panic attack they could talk me back to sanity, but this week I decided this was a journey that I needed to do right now and on my own. I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. After all, this trip is all about growing and coming to feel comfortable with what normally is uncomfortable for me. I replayed time and time again throughout the week the wise words spoken to me by Liz when I was planning my trip. I had called her in a panic because my departure date was approaching fast, and it felt like there was so much to do and many things were out of my control. When I said to her, "I think I am in a panic because there is so much to do that it feels out of control and I like to feel in control", she chuckled and said, "No, not you". She then went on to say, "That is one of the points of this trip isn't it. To come to feel comfortable with not always having to be in control, and to trust that things will just work out". She was right. My life had been so chaotic for so many years that the only way that I felt that I could in any way protect myself, and to feel safe, was to feel in control. I need to come to trust again, and to feel safe, with just being in the moment and not worrying about everything bad that could potentially happen. Liz, the one person in the world who always knows instinctually exactly what I need to hear, reminded me that my trip was about living life one moment at a time, and just trusting that I would be okay.

So with her words in mind, I set out. While I didn't take an anti-anxiety pill on the way, I do think it was divine intervention that I passed the chocolate festival that is here in Florence this weekend. As I walked through the festival I was offered a shot of pistachio chocolate liqueur. While it was only noon I thought that I could use a little bit of assistance to calm the anxiety that was trying its best to take hold of me. Then I was offered a shot of lemon chocolate liqueur. I thought one shot for my chest pains, and one for my nervous stomach.

Even with the calming effect of the chocolate liqueurs, the closer I got to the Duomo the tighter my chest felt. And the butterflies in my stomach felt like they had turned into birds. I stopped just outside the entrance, took several take deep breathes, looked up and said to myself, "I CAN DO THIS!!!!!".

As I entered into the claustrophobic airless staircase I began the winding ascent. As my heart pounded I focused less on the walls, with the hope of avoiding feeling that everything was closing in on me, and more on the narrow steep steps. As I looked at the steps I began to think, this step is for the devastation of finding out that the man that I had married and shared a life with since the age of seventeen lived a whole secret life for our entire marriage, this step was for the lies of the past several years, this step was for the betrayals, this step was for all that frightened me during the past 10 years, this step was for all the sleepless nights, this step was for not being able to give my children the childhood that I dreamed for them, this step was for the years of turmoil and abuse, this step was for all the tears shed, this step was for all the stress that I had to endure........Winding around and around, I took one step at a time until finally I took the last step for letting go of a life that for the past 10 years has been full of so much heartache and conflict.

Finally, I saw the bright light of the sun. While I have often joked with my friends that if they ever see the light don't go to it, this time I figured it was okay to go to the light. As I stepped onto the circular terrace I realized that I no longer felt the weight on my chest, or the butterflies in my stomach. What I felt was peace. Despite climbing 463 steps, and passing many people that had stopped to catch their breathe, I did not feel worn out. I felt invigorated. I looked out with a smile at Florence from above. I stood proud of myself for not letting my fears stop me from experiencing this moment. After sitting for a while and just enjoying the beauty of Florence and the hills of Tuscany in the distance, I started back down the steps no longer feeling like I had the weight of the world standing on my chest and having come to terms with that sometimes to experience happiness one has to trust in letting go. As I made my way down the steps, I thought of the words of another very dear friend. He recently said to me, "Have faith". I responded to him that I do pray every day. He said, "You pray, but with what you have been through you struggle with truly having faith. You need to let go and have faith".

My daughter, Emilie, was right when she told me 3 years ago that I could not have climbed the steps to the top of the Duomo. Even if I did not have a fractured ankle, I am sure that my fear of the unknown ahead of me would have caused me to turn back, but I am stronger now. And I am ready for happiness to return to my life. As I let go of my fears and anxieties, I make room for faith that happiness will find its way back into my life.