Settling In

Well, the kids are settled into their new "scuola materna" run by three nuns who are certainly in charge! The kids wear "grembuile" (aprons - or dresses!) over their clothes. I never thought I would get my eldest into one of these but on the first day of school he buttoned it up and off he went! The school is wild, compared to the British structure they had in Bermuda (you certainly cannot compare English and Italian philosophies on teaching) but one thing is for sure, the kids love it here. I would dare to say that there is little or no discipline in Italy. The kids know how to get what they want and they get it each and every time. They eat tons of "caramelle", so much so, I don't know how their teeth don't fall out before they make it to elementary school. It is a big free for all in the classroom, kids snatch, hit to get what they want, but the teachers only scold them when they do it and show them how they have hurt the other child's feelings. This in turn makes the child feel bad and they learn (over time) to not do something that will upset a friend. It is a very different philosophy to what I ever imagined assigning to my children. However, it certainly makes you happy as a parent to see your children crying on a Saturday morning when they cannot go to school!

Settling in for me is a bit hard to say...I have been struggling with the winter winds and rains. Try going from two weeks of winter in Bermuda to 5 months of winter, mostly inside and even in then, the house it is quite cold. I have really struggled to the demise of my husband! How could one not want to live in such a beautiful place, only for the weather? It is certainly difficult for my husband to understand, but even more difficult for me to wrap my head around. It is the main reason I have been in Bermuda for so long! They say, however, that this winter is not a typical winter here in Isola D'Elba. It has been extremely cold throughout Europe over the last few months. Perhaps we moved just in time to see the effects of global climate change and the beginning of a new ice age!

I have met a lot of lovely women here but only understand about 30% of their "chiacchierare" (name for the sounds women make here when they speak like chickens in a henhouse - no one gets a turn, you just all talk together and over one another randomly and very loudly). They celebrate every "festa" (usually church festivals) with a selection of things to do for the children (a recital for Christmas, a party for Carnivale, etc.) Everything in Italy is about and for the children. So, overall, I am slowly settling in and really am looking forward to spring!

The church bells are ringing in the background as I write and this reminds me of why we are truly here. The culture is slowly revealing itself to us in many ways. We learned the other day that you do not call a nun a "sorrella" (sister), but rather a "suora" and you do not call a priest a "padre" (father), but rather a Don...yes, as in the mafia! When someone dies in the village, the church bells toll very slowly and for a very long time (perhaps they ring one bell for each year of their life? - I must ask the priest!) When someone is born in the village, the priest asks the parents to bring the baby to church at a few days old and he holds the childup in the sky to present to everyone the newest member of the community. It kind of reminded me of the scene from the Disney movie "The Lion King" where Mufasa (the daddy lion) held up his newborn son, Simba, on a rock high above the Serengeti plains to present him to all the other animals. It is nice to see that each life in the village is important and valued and celebrated.

We finally saw Christmas, for the first time, through the eyes of the church. There were no santas displayed or tons of toys about. We were shocked at what very little there was to choose from for our children. The most prevalent thing here was the birth of Jesus. There were "presepios" (nativity scenes) everywhere you went and what was really neat was the kids were so interested to see the animals and Mary and Joseph and everytime, Matteo, my youngest, would look up at me and say "Jesus is not born yet". What a change from the culture across the pond! Where did we go wrong over there?