Our next museum stop did not happen as we met some friends who wanted to get something to eat so we walked to a wine bar nearby. Our stop here became longer than intended due to sampling of the delicious mozarella and prosciutto they specialize in, not to mention the wine. By the time we left, the line-ups to get into places were absurd and we were tired, so we went home. Our philosophy is that museums will always be there but opportunities to enjoy food and wine with friends should not be curtailed!
When I arrived here a year ago, I was disappointed to find no broccoli or rapini in the market as I like both these vegetables. This is because fresh vegetables are strictly seasonal here and these are fall/winter vegetables. Not having rapini means not eating one of my favourite pastas, orecchiette con rapini. So last week when we saw the absolute last basket of rapini for the year on sale, we bought a bunch to make this pasta.
Recipe (2 large helpings):
1 bunch rapini (about 300 – 400g)
160 g orecchiette
3-4 tabspns olive oil
1 – 2 dried red chillies
1 – 2 cloves garlic slivered
Put the olive oil in the pan, add the garlic, anchovies and chillies and heat gently. Smash the anchovies with a wooden spatula until they break up and melt into the oil. Remove the garlic if desired but I leave it in. Add the rapini, mix well and set aside. Meanwhile bring water to the boil, add salt and then the orecchiette. Most pasta takes about 9 minutes to cook but orecchiette takes a few minutes more so check but make sure not to overcook, they should be ‘al dente’. Keep some of the water aside, then drain and return to the pot.
At choir practice during the week, we were offered invitations to a performance of music at the Aula Paolo VI, the auditorium within the Vatican walls where the Pope gives his public audiences. The performance was being held to commemorate the 96th birthday of Cardinal Bartolucci who taught music composition at the Pontifical Institute of Sacred Music, was appointed ‘Maestro Perpetuo’ of the Sistine Chapel, and has composed a vast array of sacred music as well as an opera. I figured we were being given these invitations because our own Maestro del Choro (My Choral Debut) also teaches music composition at the Pontifical Institute and collaborated with Cardinal Bartolucci on some of his works. How this poor man ended up as our choir master is a mystery to me. It must have been an obligation he could not get out of as our choir is small, amateur, and of debatable talent (which is the only reason they accepted me as I have never sung in a choir before now).
The invitation specified ‘abito scuro’ as the dress code which means dark suits for the men and semi-formal wear for the women. So off we went dolled up in our finery, feeling lucky to enter the Vatican city gates which are manned by two Swiss Guards (see Pontifical Swiss Guards). Aula Paolo VI was designed by the engineer Pier Luigi Nervi who has been described as one of the most inventive exploiters of reinforced concrete of the 20th century. Completed in 1971, it does not look like much from the outside but the interior is vast and seats 6,300 people. The concrete, barrel vaulted ceiling is a marvel of engineering according to Fidz who is an engineer. Two gigantic, oval stained glass windows flank the sides and the lighting changes to cast a glow of different colours over the hall and stage which is dominated by a massive bronze sculpture representing ‘The Resurrection’.
The performance was executed by a full symphony orchestra, a large choir and seven operatic soloists. Needless to say it was spectacular and at the end, Cardinal Bartolucci came up on stage and said a few words. At 96, he is still quite agile and with it. His final words were to give thanks to the Lord for giving him and all of us the opportunity to hear his music in such auspicious surroundings. We couldn’t have agreed more!
We left a cold and wet Toronto and returned to May Day celebrations and a glorious spring in Rome. Temperatures are in the high 20s, a heady scent of orange blossom permeates our neighbourhood and roses are already in full bloom. The only sad thing is that the two magnificient palm trees which dominated our street and which I loved are no longer there. Rome is dotted with palm trees which were fashionable to have in the 19th century and were mostly imported from Egypt. However, in the last few years, palms in the southern mediterranean have been affected by the red palm weevil. Each weevil can lay as many as 300 eggs which hatch into grubs. These grubs burrough into the heart of the palm and chomp voraciously thereby killing the palm. The palms in Sicily have been devastated and many in Rome are slowly dying. Treatment consists of inserting a tube into the heart and pumping in insecticide as well as getting rid of infected palms to prevent spread. Being a costly business, there is little hope of getting owners of individual gardens to comply with this measure and so the disease marches on. The palm trees on our street were around a 100 years old and about 80 ft high and we watched the tube treatment for weeks but it was too late. One morning just before we left for India in February, we woke up to the sound of chain saws. Watching the trees being cut down was a heartbreaking sight.
Its been one year since my move to Rome and what a year of change it has been. In my family alone, we had a wedding (Busy Bees and a Wedding), a christening, and sadly, a funeral (In Memoriam). These, together with scheduled trips, made for frequent criss-crossing of the Atlantic and a frenzy of socialising when back in Toronto. Its a curious fact that we see more of some Toronto friends now than when we lived there full time since we make definite arrangements to meet, as opposed to thinking that we can see any of them at anytime and not getting around to it.
Its also been one year of blogging which is amazing to me. In fact my first post went out exactly a year ago on May 4th 2012. I started the blog just to keep my family and friends in touch with my life as it would have been impossible to write to everyone on a regular basis. In the beginning, I was worried about running out of things to write about after a month or two. Who wants to know that you spent the day lollygagging around or that you indulged in too many aperitivi and woke up with a headache the next day? Instead, I found that writing about things has made me more observant and thoughtful about what I see and here in Rome there’s plenty to see and reflect on. It also makes me look up information, albeit of dubious value, like the number of eggs a red palm weevil can lay!
So, the verdict on Rome? I love it here and want to stay but I still want to return to Toronto at regular intervals. Is it possible to have the best of both worlds or will I find myself in debt and not having a regular life in either one? I’ll keep you posted!
Sighted people cannot imagine what it is like not to see. My sister met with a car accident many years ago leaving her with only one eye. Tragically, over the last few years she lost sight in this eye and is now completely blind. Nevertheless, she manages very well and still does chores around the house as well as gardening, all by touch. She has to rely on her memory to keep track of how her clothes are arranged in her wardrobe, what she needs to do (where the rest of us make lists) and where everything is in the fridge or in the kitchen cupboards. We often forget that she can’t see, so we do stupid things like walking out of a room without telling her so she continues talking not realising that we are no longer there or we carelessly move things on a shelf and she no longer knows where they are. Life for her would be even more difficult without her ‘seeing eye dog’. The dog accompanies her on walks, helping her to avoid obstacles, cross the road, and essentially ensures that she can get around. The working life of a Guide Dog is about 10 years. She was on her second dog Pixie, when ironically, the dog developed cataracts and had to be retired. Another match had to be found and she went to the Canine Vision facility in Oakville for a two week stay to get matched with a suitable dog. She now has a beautiful, lively and obedient Golden Retriever called Dudley.
She has kept Pixie as a pet but understandably she is going through a period of confusion at not having to work. Guide Dogs knows that its time to work when they are called to heel and their harness is put on. It is fascinating to see how their behaviour and demeanour changes when this happens. Once the harness is on, they stop any playful behaviour and wait for instructions. Its like a soldier putting on a uniform and going on duty. The old dog Pixie comes to heel when my sister calls and can’t understand why she is not chosen to continue and why her role has been taken over by Dudley. Its really quite sad to watch. Dudley on the other hand hasn’t quite learned the ropes and needs some concentrated training in order to do what he is expected to do.
Training Guide Dogs is an expensive and time-consuming process. The Canine Vision Facility is funded by the Lion’s Club. In the 1980s, the Lion’s Clubs across Canada decided to start a project to help Canadians with vision impairment and established Canine Vision Canada in 1989. They have two centres in Ontario and provide Guide dogs at no cost to people in need across Canada. As well, they train Guide dogs for people with special needs such as those who are deaf, those with epilepsy, or autism, and soon for people with diabetes. In a shopping mall last week, we saw two young teenagers with autism assistance dogs. The dogs help to reduce their fear of public spaces and decrease their anxiety. For those who are deaf, the dogs are trained to alert them to the sound of a doorbell or phone ringing and so on. It’s absolutely amazing how a dog can be so important to someone’s life and we are very grateful to the Lion’s club that their funding enables people like my sister to have as normal a life as possible.
……………………and luckily I wasn’t!
Our plan had been to spend about a month here and return to Rome around the end of April. However, when I arrived here from India and sorted through my mail, I found that I had been summoned for jury selection. I was told that it was a criminal trial involving a murder charge and that the trial could go on for 12 weeks. You can imagine my dismay at the thought of changing all our plans if I was chosen. My friends were full of advice as to how I might avoid being selected such as expressing bias or pretending I was hard of hearing. Being truthful by nature, I was not eager to make up a bias or invent a disability just to get out of it. Also, I actually believe that jury service is a civic duty and I would have been interested to see the courts in action if I was not living partly in Rome.
On the selection date, I made my way to the Superior Court of Justice to find that I was one of a pool of around 350 people. Half of us were in the juror’s lounge while the other half were actually in court. A closed circuit TV linked the two spaces so that we in the juror’s lounge could follow the proceedings. The case was introduced by the judge and the accused as well as their lawyers together with the prosecutors were presented. Since there were five people accused of murdering a fellow inmate in jail, the presentations themselves took a while. Once the pleas were heard (all the accused pleaded ‘Not Guilty’), the selection of the jury commenced. We each had a number and these numbers were randomly called to form a group of 25. This group of 25 was then presented to the court one by one and given a specific return date. Once your return date was set you could leave making more room in court for those in the lounge. After lunch, we all were in court and I found myself directly behind the box where the accused were sitting. I don’t believe I’ve ever been so close to a group of jail inmates ever before and it was a little disconcerting. They were sharply dressed and I noticed that one was wearing Armani spectacle frames when he turned his head. Any time a young attractive woman was called up and there was a sound of clicking heels, their heads swivelled around to take a good look. I guess there isn’t much opportunity for ogling women in prison! My group was the second last to be called so by now it was the end of day.
On the return date, I was most relieved to find out that the jury had been selected from the groups before mine. To my good fortune, it was not a biblical selection where those who are last shall be first! However, we had to return on the day the trial started just in case one of the jurors was sick and they had to select another. We had to wait until the trial was underway and the first witness was called before we were declared exempt from jury duty. Now I’m exempt for the next three years and can book a ticket back to Rome which I’m very happy to do as the weather has not been pleasant here at all. Those little white specks you see at the bottom of this sculpture outside the courthouse is snow!
You may be tired of reading about my Indian travels by now and indeed since I’m back in Toronto, I feel should be writing about my time here. However, we enjoyed Mumbai, or Bombay as it used to be called, so I would like to share some of our experiences there. Although I have travelled to India several times over the past few years, I’ve always avoided staying in Mumbai as my experience has been that middle-of-the-road hotels are relatively expensive and poor value. This time, we had no choice so we consulted Trip Advisor and were lucky to find a newly built hotel at a reasonable price in the Fort area. To my surprise, Mumbai has improved considerably since my last stay there many years ago. For one thing, a new overhead Expressway has reduced traffic congestion and getting into the city centre from the airport is no longer the nightmare it used to be.
The Fort area was a perfect place to be as it is the historic centre. The grand Victorian buildings almost make you feel that you are in England. It is really pleasant strolling around in this area with the sea and the Gateway of India close by. Cricket is a popular sport in India and there is a vast ‘green’ area called the Maidan where you see various teams playing or practising, many in their cricket ‘whites’.
We took a boat to Elephanta Island about an hour away where there are about seven rock-cut caves dating to between the 5th and 8th centuries. Five are Hindu dedicated to Shiva and two are Buddhist.
On entering the main cave you see a gigantic three headed statue of Shiva representing his masculine and feminine faces. Another World UNESCO Heritage site, the island was called Gharapuri until Portuguese rule began in 1534 and the Portuguese renamed it Elephanta because of a huge stone elephant at the entrance to the caves. The statue is now in a museum. Instead of a stone elephant guarding the caves, there are lots of monkeys.
We saw this one making a little hole in a bottle of water and drinking out of it. Smart monkey!
Incidentally, speaking of the Portuguese, the previous name of Mumbai which was Bombay is reputed to come from the Portuguese ‘bom baim’ which means good harbour. Undoubtedly a good harbour as Mumbai is now a city of over 20 million people.
A fascinating city of extreme contrasts, slums next to modern high rises; a population from all over India wearing traditional garb to haute couture; a mixture of intoxicating smells: jasmine and urine, spices and shit; obesity clinics with beggars and homeless on the street outside; children doing their school homework on the sidewalk.
In Bombay, anything is possible and Bollywood fires your dreams!
On Easter Sunday, we went to High Park here in Toronto for a walk. Since spring is yet to arrive, we were faced with a dry and dead looking winter landscape. There wasn’t a green bud to be seen and the landscape reminded me of our recent trip to the Deccan plateau in India where we visited the Ajanta and Ellora caves.
In Ajanta, there has been little rain for over a year and the annual monsoon did not arrive, as such, last year so the land is bone dry and the trees have lost their leaves. The river beds have dried up and there is hardly a blade of green to be seen. However, the caves, which have been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, are spectacular. Excavated from a horse shoe-shaped sheer rock face starting at the top and working downwards, it is hard to believe that such a feat could be possible. They were started in the 2nd century BC and used until about the 5th century AD by Buddhist monks. Of the 30 caves, some were built as temples complete with vaulted ceilings while others served as living quarters.
Originally covered with frescoes in the tempera style, most have been destroyed but a few remain and they are quite amazing. Note the perspective of the pillars in this painting done a thousand years or so before perspective in painting was employed in Europe.
The carvings are ornate and very beautiful. It was seriously hot the day we were there and not the best for walking around but fortunately, inside the caves was cool, beautiful and peaceful. Just being in the presence of the sculptures was a spiritual experience.
The rock caves at Ellora, some 60km away were even more impressive. Another World Heritage site, the 34 caves comprise Buddhist, Hindu and Jain temples spanning the 5th to 10th century AD. The Kailash temple is said to be the largest monolithic structure in the world and it certainly felt like it as we climbed the steps in the heat. Not a lot of tourists on account of the heat so it was like having a private viewing at times.
By noon we could not cope with the hot sun any longer. However, we were lucky to have a hotel (Hotel Kailas) just across from the caves so, not only could we see the complex from the hotel gardens, but we were able to walk back for a rest during the hottest midday hours. One of the nicest places we stayed in during our travels, we had a large room with a balcony for $30 per night. With a little bit of homework, its really quite remarkable how cheaply one can travel in India.
Anyhow, I digress! My photos do not do justice to the splendour of the caves but hopefully, you can get some idea. Its interesting how a dry landscape due to the heat, can resemble a dry winter landscape due to the cold. In High Park, where parts of it were similar to the Deccan except that we were muffled up in coats and scarves, northern birds have already migrated south in search of nesting grounds.
We had the great good fortune to see wood ducks, which we were told, people drive miles to get a glimpse of. So together with swans, Canada geese, and common ducks, the pond was quite the happening scene. Between Indian caves one week and Canadian birds the next, as my friend John who runs WE Tango in Toronto says: “Life is Good”.
Happy Easter to all my readers. Easter is said to take its name from the Anglosaxon goddess of spring Eostre and some have also associated it with the Assyrian goddess of love and fertility, Ishtar. Apparently, eggs were forbidden during Lent in Medieval Europe and many Easter meals thus featured eggs, not to mention that eggs are symbols of fertility as are rabbits. So, now you have something to ponder as you bite into those chocolate eggs and bunnies! What you may ask has all this got to do with the picture on the left? Symbol of the Hindu god Shiva, it represents the male principle which together with the yoni or female symbol, represents the inseparability of the male and female principles or the totality of creation, one could say the cosmic egg. Nothing to do with Easter but we saw it this day last week while visiting the Elephanta caves on an island off Mumbai and I thought it was very beautiful. Even more beautiful was to see people’s reverence for it with offerings of flower petals, money and coconuts.
Of course among Catholics, Easter is associated with the crucifixion of Christ and his resurrection. Here in Toronto, there has been a catholic parade held in our neighbourhood on Good Friday, going back 50 years. Yesterday was a beautiful day and I actually watched the parade in its entirety where I had only seen glimpses in the past. I felt like I was back in Italy as the church which organizes it has a largely Italian congregation so people were praying in Italian as they walked along and singing Italian psalms. What a small world we live in!
Apologies for this long gap in my blog. I have been overcome by the sights, sounds and smells of India and the lack of easy internet access during our travels precluded an up-to-date report. Although I’m actually on my way to Toronto, I think I will continue to share the Indian adventures. So, back to Kerala which must be one of the most verdant states in India. We wanted to see something of inland Kerala, and were lucky to find a small tour company run by Stanley Wilson in Cochin. For the princely sum of around $220 for two people, we had a car with a driver for three days, lodging and meals in a beautiful homestay within a tea plantation near Munnar in the Kandan Devan Mountains for two nights, and a 3 hour boat ride in the backwaters between Allepey and Cochin. How lucky is that?
Our driver, Thankappan spoke fluent English and knew the area well so all we had to do was sit back and enjoy. He was a fount of information and would take us for lunch to places where you ate off a banana leaf. Dressed in a white chauffeur’s uniform while driving us around during the day, he would change into his lunghi in the evening with the addition of a jacket and tuque after sunset as he felt it to be cold in the mountains at around 25C! Lunghis are worn by men in south India and I must say they are a graceful and practical garment, much more elegant than shorts.
Our journey started with a visit to an elephant training camp where we saw elephants being taken down to the river for their bath. While the older ones couldn’t wait to lie down in the water and have their backs scrubbed, the younger ones had to be coaxed or forced to get immersed. Sorry if I do go on a bit about elephants but the more I see of them, the more I like them and here in India, they are trained to do all sorts of things. They transport people including soldiers traversing the jungle, work in timber camps, and participate in temple ceremonies. Driving through the counryside into the mountains, we saw lush forests of flowering trees, coconut and areca palms, spice plantations comprising, pepper, nutmeg, cardamom and vanilla and rubber plantations. It was lovely to feel the temperature dropping to a comfortable level as we climbed and easy to see why the British used to leave for the hills during the hot season.
As we got higher up, vast areas of tea estates came into view laid out in geometric patterns. Our homestay was a joy to be in. Aptly named ‘Misty Green View’, it did indeed have a wonderful view overlooking the valley and being in a tea plantation, we were able to see how tea is grown and picked. The tips and topmost leaves are picked by hand and the tips, which are leaves that haven’t opened yet, are the most valuable and used for white tea while the young leaves are used for green tea. The lower more mature leaves are cut with shears to make black tea and, sorry to tell you this folks but the sweepings left on the factory floor are used for regular tea bags!
I had never seen tea flowers before and they are really very beautiful.
We could have stayed in the mountains for days but all too soon, it was time to embark on our mini backwater trip. Another relaxing and laidback experience sitting in a ketuvalam (rice boat) watching life on the water. A more exciting trip in the early morning I’m told as you see children going to school by boat, vendors selling produce and so on. It would have been nice to stay overnight and chill but sadly, we did not have the time. I would definitely like to visit Kerala again!