so far, so good.

the difference between the first time i came to iran, when i was 14, and the second time, six years later, was so great, i could hardly believe it. the country had become so liberal and lax (compared to what it had been) that it was barely recognizable. sure, i still got chased around by disgusting men who had nothing better to do when i tried to take a walk in the rainforest behind my grandmother's house in the country, but still, the hejab rules were more relaxed, AIDS, drugs, alcoholism and teenage pregnancy were rampant. prostitution, too. i saw girls and guys walking arm in arm on the street, and there were some coverings that were so closely fitted and short that they barely covered anything.

but i wondered if this time it wouldn't be different, again, since all of this stuff with the elections happened recently, and september 11th, and of course being dubbed part of the glorious axis of evil.

no way. none of that seems to have had any effect. the first night i got here, a cousin came over in clamdiggers (or shell pickers, as i like to call them at times) and a tanktop under her rupush. women are made up and manicured like nobody's business. we went to this fleamarket yesterday, and all of these guys were dressed mod, and everyone was wearing converse sneakers. i guess that must be hip here (a turkish friend said that they are cool in turkey, too). i even wore my reefs out, and no one looked twice. in fact, i felt like i should get more fancied up to go out. ha! me?

so, things are good. i hang out with my cousins, eat warm bread and cheese, and watch random italian tv. yeah, there is a nutso satellite here. i guess everyone has them, and i think that it must be behind a lot of these recent changes. if the government stopped caring about satellites and people don't have to be sneaky about them any more, then pretty much anyone can have them. so all of the kids see what's cool in europe and they start dressing like that. acting like it, too.

so, all in all, iran is good. i just started brick line by monica ali. so far, so good.

my idols

some things about pakistan are less culture shocky than italy. for example, since there is a major dvd and cd pirating industry here, it's really easy to keep updated on movies, music and tv from home. when i go back to the states from italy, i am always dizzy and confused about all of the stuff i've missed.

the beauty of the cable at t's and f's house is that i can watch my beloved american idol, albeit 3 weeks behind. but i get to make fun of the awful singers and cheer on the great ones, all the same, so i'm happy. my two favorites as of this week are latoya london and george huff. i hope they haven't already been eliminated!

though, i have to say, mmc and jc, AI is just not the same without you guys!

talk of the town

i keep forgetting to mention that eccolo is open with a bang. i know it's silly, but i really can't wait to go home and have a steady job. mi manca la struttura!

they're making all sorts of yummy things like arancini, ribollita, tagliata with parmesan and bone marrow, and a fritto misto that changes every day. there is also delicious-sounding homemade gelato that changes daily.

i can't wait to work there....

it's later

well, t is trying to get organized for the wedding, so i've jumped on that train with her. i get to help with figuring out the invitations, which is turning out to be a lot more difficult than i ever imagined. if she had a kazillion dollars, she'd get full-on letterpressed ones done, but it just costs too much. so we are trying to find blank invitations with maybe a sweet letterpressed border or design on it, and then have them printed normally. either we suck at internet searches, or that kind of thing just doesn't exist, because we aren't finding anything.

it's shocking and disturbing how much tacky wedding stuff there is out there.

we did get started with the bridesmaids' dresses--mine will be the prototype. we went to the tailor with the beautiful thai raw silk that she bought, and it should be ready on monday. while we were at the fabric store, i caved in and bought this beautiful jamovar handworked silk that i have been eyeing since the day i got here, and am having that made into a dress, too. the fabric is raw silk with a ton of embroidery, divided into rectangles, each worked to look kinda like a persian rug. there is a lovely purple-ness to the whole thing, but the color varies from blues to greens to pinks. i love it! and the best thing is that the dress is being made just for me--there will be no other dress like it in the world. i got it 3/4 length, sleeveless, A-line, with a square neck (i think. i can't remember.) and a higher waist. ooh ooh ooh it is going to be so beautiful!

the other dress is a pinky-purpley color, a little shorter, with a different neck, and thinnish straps, but still A-line. it's going to be really nice, too.

what else? well, we were going to have chupli kebabs the other night, but on the way to the grill, we discovered that meat is rationed on tuesdays and wednesdays here, so we ended up having delicious chicken tikka with roti and yogurt at this great outdoor kebab place. hopefully, i'll get a chupli before i leave next week....

since the cook went back to his village for a week or so, we're on our own for food and i thought i would cook a little for the house. i tried to make a simple pasta with tomatoes and butter, but the tomatoes were disgusting, the pasta was crappy, and instead of parsley, they gave me cilantro. not only that, but the cook put the kilo of parmesan that i brought here in the freezer! it was awful, but i rebounded from the disappointment to make a nice ragu'.

considering there was no pork, red wine, or celery in it, and that i used lime zest instead of lemon, it was actually pretty good. i also made chocolate chip cookie dough balls, a la mmc, but left out the egg since there wasn't any. the dough won't be baked since i can't find any baking sheets, so it's fine. we just snack on them out of the freezer.

i've come to school with T for 2 days now, and i love her kids. they are writing storybooks with wolves as "good" characters. they are even going to type out and publish and bind them, so i am getting a little involved with it. they are so funny! when they found out that i am writing a book, and that it is going to be 400 pages long, they almost fainted! they keep asking me if i am done yet; they can't believe that i am still drafting, and that i have been working on it since they started the third grade. i am in love with the kindergarteners, though. they are so cute! i don't think i could be an elementary school teacher because i would spend all of my time enchanted by the cuteness of the kids...

things are good with the book. i am getting closer and closer to being stuck, which means that i can stop worrying about it till i go back to italy and have to chase bv around for 3 weeks, trying to get some more material out of her.

i'm leaving for iran next week, and back to italy in mid may. i can't believe i have almost been here a month! it will be so nice to see my family, and my cousins especially. i can't believe i am going back--it's been 4 years already since i was there last. i want to eat lots of rice with butter and fresh cheese with warm bread and sweet tea for breakfast. and my favorite dessert, the cardomom cakes called yazdi, and faloodeh, the rosewater sorbet with rice noodles that you eat with lime. and the sour green plums that you crunch on with salt. yay, yay, yay!

more later

it's sensation overload, really.

i think i have eaten at least 14 different types of dal (lentils) since i got here.

i've been reading a lot, and doing my work. not having a constant connection to the internet has been a big factor in that, i think. the book is really starting to look like a book, which amazes me, and scares me. i feel like no one else cares about it as much as i do, and that worries me. but i just have to trust these people, i guess. it's burned me before, but what can i do?

it's been really warm here, and so i haven't really been eating much. usually just toast for breakfast, and then some rice and lentils for dinner (with homemade yogurt and mango chutney). but there is this wonderful type of kebab, the chupli kebab, that i am in love with. it's ground beef or lamb, with chopped onions, tomatoes and cumin and coriander mixed in. it's all cooked on a big slab of cast iron over the coals, and at the last minute, an egg is cracked on top. yum! then, it's all served on top of a fresh roti, or handmade bread. i love chupli kebab!

i also had a delicious fresh strawberry drink i can't forget. and the green tea here has cardomom mixed in, which is wonderful. the mango ice cream is unforgettable, too.

i am going to get my tickets to iran and back to italy settled today, enshallah, and then i can just focus of eating as much good stuff as i can, working on my book, and playing with the doggies.

i bought some lovely antique spice boxes last week, and i just want to cry over how beautiful they are. they have all of this lovely handiwork, and most of the colors and designs are still intact. i think that, along with the silver cuffs i found in the mountain shops, they are my favorite things that i have gotten so far. the shop owner gave me this lovely little pitcher made out of herat glass, too. maybe next time i can make it to afghanistan and get some more, myself. it's really interesting, though. there is kinda this little cottage industry popping up--people hiring the female afghani refugees to do the most lovely handiwork. i am intrigued, impressed, interested.

the cook tried to teach me how to make chapati last night before he left for 9 days, and it was a show of ridiculousness. i have never been good when it comes to hand-eye coordination. he was laughing so hard at me. oh well, i deserved it.

books i have read: the davinci code and digital fortress, the curious incident of the dog in the night time, the namesake, stupid white men, re-read nine stories and the razor's edge, and now i am doing a passage to india.

more later....

a million bajillion things

oh, there is so much to say. so much to write. i am in the lobby of a fancy hotel, but this is the first good internet connection that i have had, so i thought i would make use of it.

we are in lahore--we came here for a wedding. it was f's second cousin's wedding, and though i only made it to the first night's festivities on account of my awful illness (i still have a fever and other bodily malfunctions, of you catch my drift), it was beautiful.

the couple had already had their nikkah, which is the official ceremony (something like signing the marriage license and saying "i do", but fancier and more colorful) a month or so ago, and on friday night they had their mendhi, which you'll be able to somewhat picture if you have seen the movie "Monsoon Wedding." we got there just as the bride was being carried into the main room in this little carty-carriage thingy by 4 or 6 men. there were yellow flowers everywhere, and she was wearing a beautiful golden dhuputta--a lacy embroidered shawl--over her head and face, a sign of modesty (i think. also, in more traditional weddings, there are no men present at the mendhi, and it's only for the bride and her female guests.)

there was a lot of choreographed dancing, and a candle ceremony. and of course there was the mendhi, or decoration of the bride with henna. it was beautiful. i am so glad that i went, even if just for such a short time. it was amazing. but by the time the food was ready, t was about to faint and i wasn't feeling much better, so we left. it was pretty ugly.

we had a rough night, but yesterday we dragged ourselves out of bed to go to the changing of the guard at the border with india. even though i felt like i was going to die, i still enjoyed it a bit. it was really special, seeing the guards shake hands and feeling even a slight camadarie between the two nations.


to be continued when we get back to islamabad, with the shaky internet connection....

pakistan is dangerous

for my booty! all i do is eat and run around town!

everything is wonderful, but especially since t's mom got here on sat, all we have been doing is running around the country, and there is more to come. i will write a long, lovely update once we get a little break and some decent internet access, but until then, i will be eating a lot more keema and dal and roti and mango ice cream.

mwah!

even the airplane food was good

the food here is so delicious!!! i can't believe it. i am going to die.

i came with t to school today, and giulia, her italian student, was so excited that i was coming that she brought me a red rose and made me a "welcome" card. how cute is that?

i've already worn a shalwar kameez--T tried to give me a few new sets of clothes, but they were too small for me, so i am going to have to go to the tailor soon. but i feel kinda weird wearing western clothes out of the house, so i am excited to get some traditional things. plus, the fabrics are all so beautiful.

yesterday, after a long, hot walk with the dogs, we came home and the cook made us delicious bread and fried eggs. my hours were all messed up (by the way, i hadn't realized that the time changed in italy on sunday morning, and i almost missed the train to rome. i made it with a minute to spare. i was the last one on. it was a rocky start to a long trip.), so i slept and we went to the opening ceremony of the south asian games, and were sitting not 50 feet from musharraf. nuts! it was a great, long, ceremony, and when we got home, the cook (!) made us some daal and chicken tikka and rotibread and this little tomato and onion salad with these tiny lemons that were so delicious, with thin, sweet skin that you could just gobble up.

i'll be at school this whole day, and i might go hang out in the classroom's reading loft, which is a big bunk bed in the corner, and read The DaVinci Code, which has completely sucked me in.

the last of the bus ponderings, for a while at least

maybe next time it'll be the plane ponderings, but today i was thinking about thomas lux.

i can't remember what led me to think about him, but in a way, it's because of him that i am here. i think that my decision to come to italy that first time would have been much more difficult had he been staying at sarah lawrence. i might be working on my master's thesis right now (or procrastinating on that project instead of my current one) if he hadn't moved to georgia.

but instead, i found myself of the bus, in florence, on my way to a little restaurant on the hill, thinking about how i am going to manage to carry all of the stuff i have to carry to the train station tomorrow.

i think that the three biggest decisions that have brought me to this point are: going to berkeley (oh, what an awful thing the process of coming to that conclusion was!), becoming a busser at cp, and coming to italy instead of going to graduate school. the funny thing is, i can't say that when i made those choices, i could tell that something major was happening. the story-loving, idealistic part of me thinks that the single-biggest factor that has brought me here was getting that bussing job. there was no way in a bajillion years that i could have imagined that i would be doing what i am doing when i started working there. i remember coming home, sore from picking up plates and sending the dumbwaiter up and down (oh, short-shifting, the most unglorious job in the world). and now, not even 4 years later, i am type-type-typing this entry in italy, a place i consider my home, where i speak the language, and have friends, and am living a somewhat productive life. i am also staring at my backpack, wondering how i am going to pick it up tomorrow morning. i never thought i'd say this, but there might just be such a thing as too much nutella (especially if you have to carry it on your back).

i packed my bag, so happy that everything fit, and then i remembered the kilo of parmesan in my fridge. ACK!

i am the king of eavesdropping

i have to go pick up the knives from the sharpener in a minute, and there's really not so much to say right now, but another interesting thing happened on the bus that i wanted to write about:

there is a huge national strike today--everything including banks, schools, buses and maybe even trains and planes are on strike, protesting the benefits they get (or don't get). but italians are surprisingly organized about their strikes, actually, and so the bus was running in the morning, but not the afternoon, and the train is running now, but it wasn't this morning. however, there were major protests and things going on in two of the main piazze of the city, and so a lot of the buses had detours and delays.

i ended up waiting about half an hour for the bus, and when it finally arrived, it was practically empty, so i actually got a seat. there were plenty of seats open, even, but this man felt the need to stand almost on top of me, and he kept swaying his elbow into my head every time the bus jiggled or turned (which was a lot). i thought about saying something, but then didn't, and just moved to defend my head and he kind of got the point. anyway, the reason he was standing next to me, i figured out, was because he was traveling with two girls about my age. i was sitting there, thinking about this funny farsi saying that my mom is fond of, and suddenly, i heard farsi being spoken behind me. it was really weird, and through some clever, eavesdropping i deduced that one of the girls is studying aboad in florence and that the other girl and her brother (friends of the original girl) had come over from iran to visit her, this being the major national vacation time of the year there.

my favorite part was when they were debating whether grazie mille or molto gentile expresses more gratitude. i kept turning and staring to look at them, and i know that they thought i was the opposite of molto gentile.

meanwhile, there were a couple of americans on the bus, and i was busy eavesdropping on them, too. their conversation was about the toyota four runner versus the toyota three runner (free runner?).

and of course, there were the many italians to eavesdrop on, like the moaning old ladies and everyone who was complaining about the bus being so late. people were discussing the strike and the benefits and deciding what to do this afternoon.

i think it was the first time that i have ever listened to three different languages being spoken simultaneously, and understood them all. but i did get a headache when i got to zibibbo, as if the adrenalin from it all had run out.

ok, i have to go get those knives!

run-around samin

today, i decided to pretend to be organized. when i got to zibibbo, i whipped out the draft and tried to get bv to work on it with me, but she was preoccupied with her dying computer. so i ended up making a tortino di patate with cristina to use up all of the leftover boiled potatoes that we had. we sliced the potatoes and made a crust with them in a little cake pan, and then put in some pancetta, white onion, oregano and mozzarella. then we covered it with more potato and filled up the pan with beaten eggs and baked the entire thing in the oven for about 10 minutes.

i told everyone at work that they should hurry up and make as much fun of me as they can, and also to blame everything that is going wrong and breaking on me, because after saturday, they won't be able to for a while. they were so sad to realize that, and so they hopped right back to making fun of the way i pronounce english. it's one thing for them to make fun of my italian, but it really takes the cake when they start to poke fun at my english. what?! i get a kick out of it, though, so i play along and give them more material.

i eventually left zibibbo (after eating a yummy piece of the tortino), and raced back home, took a shower, made a list of all of the stuff i have to do, and actually went and did it. i don't think i have ever done that before.

first, i went to get my hair trimmed at this place around the corner. they know me because i bought some hair goop there a while ago, but it's kinda super-trendy and all of thet stylists wear black, so i was afraid to get my hair cut there. i just feel so intimidated by people who are that cool, but i didn't want to go to the place where i got my hair cut last time, this scary salon school, so i just bit the bullet and went in. they all tried to speak english to me, and i responded in italian, and finally we talked a little. my dude's name was fabio, and he was kinda ditzy. he started to cut my hair, and then went to arrange some flowers, have a little gossip, and then he finally came back to me.

i told him that i had a cultural question to ask him, and he looked at me like i was nuts. i said that there is this hairstyle in america called the mullet (and i translated it for him as muggine) and i described it to him. i said that it's kinda hicky in america, but it's totally trendy here, and i thought that that was pretty funny. he looked at me like i was on crack. i asked if there is an italian word for mullet, and he said not really, but we discussed the cycle of trends and he thought it was all funny. then, i whipped out the saying "all business in front and a party in the back" and he loved it! he even demonstrated how his own hairdo is a potential mullet. i told him that they should advertise mullets in the window, and we stared at people in the salon and passersby pointing out mullets and fake mullets and things. he tried to say that this other stylist had a mullet, and i said that that wasn't even close--it was definitely a faux-hawk. and they loved that, too! it was a great moment for the mullet, a real transcultural experience. the mullet is so much more than a hairdo. it really brings people together.

i warned him then not to give me a mullet.

and he didn't.

later, i took zibibbo's knives to get sharpened, and i went to the walk-in clinic to get those weird red spots and my mole checked out by a dermatologist. i love the walk-in clinic--it costs less to see a doctor there than it did for me to get my hair cut. my red spots were from the virus i had a few weeks back, and my mole is fine. yay, i'm not dying. he also told me that if it's not obligatory to get the malaria vaccine, then it's my choice. i'm going to skip it--if it seems dangerous when i get to pakistan, then i'll get it there. but he said that it's a pretty serious treatment, and if i don't need to get it, i shouldn't. i agree.

i also bought a large and in charge jar of nutella for the peeps in 'stan (because the italian nutella is the only one worth eating), and some other presents for them and my family and friends in iran. i think i am done shopping, thankfully. now, i just have to finish organizing the book stuff, and i can relax.

i'm psychic: there's a strike tomorrow

i do some of my best thinking on the bus. sometimes. the bus that goes to zibibbo passes by all of the hospitals in the city, and also the university, so there is this eclectic mix of young/leftist/lively students, and crazy/elderly/sick people (and their visitors) of riders. my bus seems to be one of the least timely of all of the city buses--i think because its route takes it down mostly hundreds-years old narrow streets, where if one person double parks, hundreds of people are inconvenienced. it is not abnormal for me to have to wait 45 minutes or an hour for the bus, and then often, when it does finally arrive, it is PACKED. these buses are the worst, especially on rainy days like today, because you are smushed in there with stinky, farty, loud, groping people (oh yes, i have definitely been molested and what would be called "sexually assaulted" in america, but what is just laughed off as normal here).

so of course, today, i had to wait a really long time for the bus, and when it came, it was like a big orange scatolina di acciughe on wheels. i pushed my way on, and at the next stop, this little (and when i say little, i mean pocket-sized) older lady (hereafter referred to as LOL), who has a bad knee or something, hobbled up onto the bus. i think she might have some mental problems, too. i see her often on the bus; she goes to one of the hospitals for physical therapy, i think. she always yells for help getting on and off the bus, and she always wears the same little red hat and red and black striped gloves, and my heart just kinda melts a little when i see her, because she is so funny and cute.

there were no seats left on the bus, so this sweet african lady (hereafter referred to as SAL) got up and gave her her seat. SAL had been speaking in another language that i was trying to identify with the man next to her. it sounded like it could have been french or afrikaans (not that i have ever heard afrikaans, but the man was so white, and she was so dark, so i had this whole story made up in my head about how they were surely from south africa and blah blah blah. i always try to guess where people are from, and i am getting pretty good at it. no one ever knows where i am from, though. they always guess greece or india), but i wasn't sure.

anyway, LOL struck up a conversation with SAL, and started telling her all about her problems and how she hurt her leg (she had been hit by a car) and LOL got so emotional that she started to cry. so SAL gave her a hug and then had to translate the story to the man she had been speaking to, because he didn't speak enough italian to understand. so then, LOL asked her who the man was, and SAL replied that he is her husband, and a series of questions ensued (by the way, the entire time this was going on, an old man was touching my booty under the pretense of the bus being too full. i hate these situations, because i am taller than everyone else on the bus, so my booty is always at about the same level as where other people's hands are. my choice is between being groped in the front, being groped in the back, or trying to cover my booty or front with my bag and risk being pickpocketed. oh, italy.). apparently, i was staring at SAL and LOL while this conversation was going on, and smiling--it was all so sweet.

so next, LOL points at me and asks SAL "who's she?" and everyone in the back of the bus cracks up. there must have been fifteen people laughing, and it was beautiful. i answered that i'm no one, and that i was just smiling because it was all so beautiful. but it was a great little scene, and no one could stop laughing. we just kept laughing and laughing, because of LOL. she apologized for being maleducata, but really, this was one of the best bus rides of my life. normally, i spend my time trying to ignore everyone else on the bus or avoid ticket checkers.

LOL and SAL continued their conversation, and LOL told SAL how beautiful she is, and how handsome her husband is, and it turns out that they are from senegal, so they probably were speaking french, or maybe wolof. i don't know. it was just one of those moments, i guess.

i'm thinking of going on strike

i am sick of recipes. sick. sick. sick.

i went to zibibbo today, and just when bene and i were sitting down to work, she went to go get her cigarettes and couldn't find them (i think i am driving her to an earlier death. she must smoke a pack every two hours when we are working). so she said "come on!" and i grabbed my drafts and we went for a ride down to the nearest tabbachaio, who of course didn't have the gauloises red, only the yellow, which bene informed me are so light that smoking them is like like smoking a breadstick. so, we went back into the car, racing in another direction, screeched to a halt, and i jumped out as i was asking her the quantities for a swordfish recipe. but this tabacchi only had gauloises blue. she gave in and had me get the blue, and then we rushed back to zibibbo, where we promptly found her original pack of gauloises red.

she spent a few minutes making fun of my italian--i guess fregola doesn't mean what i thought it did. maybe we should alert the food writers in america. but fregola has nothing to do with semolina. it's kinda dirty, actually.

and then she escaped. not much work got done there today, but i did eat a nice homestyle plate of salsicce e fagioli.

now, i am in T's house, drowning in recipes and gardening factoids. oh, AK, how i wish you were here. i don't know how i am ever going to do this without you. expect many frantic emails over the next few weeks.

boring details

can i just give a little love to colin firth and scarlett j? in case you can't tell, i just saw the lovely girl with a pearl earring. maybe my normally critical self is letting up now that the movie pickins are slimmer.

yummy things from today: more strawberries, the oh-so-cp pasta with asparagus, cream, parmesan and black pepper, and a couple of good old tarocchi blood oranges.

i haven't been reading much lately, which i feel bad about. not even my nyers. but i am piling them up for my flights on sunday. but i have been writing a lot, which is good. i was printing out my first complete draft of the organizational nightmare we call this book (which, by the way, pesce urlando, has no name yet) and i printed for about three hours straight on a laserjet and am still not done. i think i probably have another hour of printing to do. but the sad thing is, i finished all of the toner in T's printer. oops.

i spent the evening with my great friend O, who lives part time here and part time in berk, so we gossiped about all of the happenings back in california, and talked about the strange murders that have been happening all over florence for a while now. and then she gave me a torrone bacio and sent me on my merry way.

i can't stop eating

i went to the mercato this morning, and it's official:

spring is here.

strawberries are 2 euros for a kilo! i think i have eaten 2 kilos just today. asparagus is cheap, too, and i already ate two bunches.

i also had a lovely bollito sandwich at nerbone. and i just ate a handful of crunchy granola (shout out to juj). now, i am plotting what i will eat next. heh heh heh.

also, this morning, i went over to the travel agency and got the ticket for pakistan. it's for sunday. needless to say, i am in a bit of a mess right now, trying to find presents, and finish up the first draft, and pack up. but it's a good mess. a happy mess, involving lots of strawberries and asparagus.

by the way, to you high school peeps out there: through a wacky, wacky string of connections, i realized that one of my montana friends (yes, there is more than just one) is buds with chris holmes. of chris and becky holmes. so i emailed him, and he's in laos/china/hong kong/all over the place. nuts!


downstairs

downstairs from my little house is a lovely pizzeria with a wood burning oven. i don't know why i didn't try it earlier, but ever since i went there last week, i can't stop going back. i made buddies with the pizzaioli, paolo and antonio. and they always make me my pizza as soon as i come in--a margherita with little tomato sauce. yum. it's ready in about 3 minutes, and it costs 5 euros. and it is soooo good. a pizza like that at home would cost 16 bucks!

one of the best things about living here is that it's not hard to eat well on a budget, thank goodness.