Last Day in our Apartment Thoughts

Here we are on our last day in our apartment, in the middle of doing one last load of laundry, getting ready to pack, etc. - and the power suddenly went out a few minutes ago.  Sigh.  Really hoping it comes back on soon.  This is the second time we've had a power outage here.  The first time it was out for just about a whole weekend, and was an issue that actually affected much of the comune.  I just sent Paolo out into the streets to see if this is a comune-wide problem, or a just-us problem.  We'll see what he finds out.  UGH.

I was just thinking about what things I will miss, and what things I won't miss when we leave.

Things I won't miss:

- constant vigilance against muffa

- the crazy plumbing issues in our apartment:

    - the very loud, drawn-out moaning noise the toilet in my bathroom makes when I flush

    - the fact that lately, in order to get hot water from any other faucet or showerhead, you first have to turn on the faucet of the sink in Paolo's bathroom (it's crazy, I know!  We don't know why this should be, but it is!)

- having to drive 45 minutes to an hour if we need to buy something other than basic staples (gas was about €1,75 per liter here last time I checked - about $1.89/liter, so well over $7/gallon)

- having to dry laundry in the house if it's raining (or having to wait for a sunnier day to do wash)

- Italian drivers, particularly on narrow, curving mountain roads, or in cities, or...well, pretty much anywhere, really

- the lack of "ethnic" food - while we've been to a handful of good Asian restaurants in big cities, there's just nothing like that in most small towns; and other types of ethnic foods / cuisines from other countries (even European ones) just aren't available (for example, no Mexican restaurants - although you can purchase a handful of things like tortillas and salsa in the big grocery chain stores, they are not the same and definitely not as good; the salsa is particularly weird)

- Italian bureaucracy - one does get used to it, but honestly, for those like us who don't speak the language well, certain aspects of it can be a real struggle

Things I will miss:

- friendly neighbors - even if we don't speak the same language

- seeing dogs everywhere (Italy is very dog-friendly; people take their dogs just about everywhere, it seems.  Since our own Very Good Boy passed away last summer, I have missed having a dog)

- the weekly market with its fresh, inexpensive produce and bread

- bread and produce trucks stopping by twice a day

- the local bakery!  I swear we get the best, freshest bread in Italy here, not to mention all the other scrumptious goodies they make

- walking down to the local bar to hang out with neighbors, people watch, and/or cheer on the soccer matches on the big screen

- being able to just walk down to the mercato with a backpack to pick up basic groceries, or to the farmacia (pharmacy) for those needs

- being able to ask for advice and get good recommendations for basic OTC medications at the local farmacia (Paolo has gotten a few things there, including one medication he regularly takes that requires a prescription in the US, but not here, and a skin cream that helped soothe a minor skin irritation issue he'd been experiencing)  

- travelling around Italy by train whenever we feel like going somewhere new - just pack a bag and go catch the train in Termoli

- real Italian food!!!

- cheap cell phone and internet services, no long-term contract required - just top off your account online or at the tabacchi

- the tradition of afternoon "quiet time" / siesta when almost everything is closed in the middle of the day for a few hours (except the bars) - I know it sounds like that would be inconvenient, and occasionally it is, but for the most part, I find it's actually quite pleasant and peaceful

UPDATE:  the power has just come back on!  It seems it was a just-us problem this time; our landlord came by and flipped the breaker and all is well now.  Whew! Admittedly, we feel slightly silly for not having figured that out for ourselves.  But in our defense, we didn't know where the breakers were - it turned out that they are located downstairs in the foyer of the building, not up here in the apartment.

I suppose I should get back to packing now...sigh.  Later, we have plans to meet a friend at the bar for good-bye drinks.

One last visit to the Questura

Back when Paolo had his appointment to retake his fingerprints (required to obtain his permesso), the agent scheduled a 21/04 (April 21) appointment for him to pick up his carta di soggiorno elettronica (his residence card, which states the type of permesso he has - "familiare" or permission to live in Italy as the family member of a citizen, plus other identifying information that is stored in a biometric chip.  So when I received an email the other day saying that his appointment has been scheduled for 24/05 (May 24), I didn't know what to think - after all, we'd already be back in the US by that point.

Our translator didn't seem concerned.  "Oh, the agent probably just forgot to put it in the system, so they didn't know you already have an appointment.  It happens.  Don't worry, just go to the appointment we already scheduled," she said.  So we did.

Only to find out, when we arrived at the gatehouse, that we were not on the appointment list for the day.  I thought for sure we were going to be sent away - but fortunately, the same officer who scheduled the appointment happened to be on duty again today, and remembered us, so the guard at the gate let us in after all.  The translator was right; the agent did forget to put the appointment in the system. 

So, after taking Paolo's fingerprints yet again - to verify his identity as the person to whom the card was issued - he finally received his residency permit.

Official Italian Resident

I blocked out the personal info - but this is what the front of the card looks like

It seems a bit ironic that it was issued the week before we are scheduled to return to the US.  But at least now no one can question whether he's "overstayed" his allotted 90 days in the Schengen area on this trip.  And we have plenty of time to decide our ultimate residency goals.  

Our lease is up here at the end of next week.  We will be leaving our comune a bit before that, though.  Our plan is to head to Rome (well, Fiumicino, actually) this Sunday and turn in our rental car.  We will stay there until we fly to the US on Wednesday - assuming, of course, that we both pass the required Covid tests, and that our flight isn't canceled and/or rescheduled - it seems that's a potential issue, from what I've been reading in the US news.  In case you're wondering:  we certainly will be wearing our FFP2 masks on the plane, overturned mandates be damned.  

A Visit to the Ancestral Comune

Way back in the early days of this blog, I mentioned that my great grandfather Cesare Pesaresi was born in Corinaldo, in Ancona province, in the region of Le Marche.  This past weekend, thanks to cousin M. and her family, we got to see the home of his parents, Pietro Pesaresi and Marianna Pierpaoli, as well as the centro storico of the comune, and some of the surrounding countryside.  Both the ancestral homestead and the comune itself were larger than I'd pictured in my mind.

We made the drive from Senigallia to cousin M's family's home in a little under 25 minutes.  The countryside of the Marche region is very pretty - quite agricultural, like Molise, though the hills are smaller here.  I took a short video (about 26 seconds) of the drive - here is the link.  While we did see a few olive groves, as well as several signs advertising olive oil for sale, we encountered more vineyards, farms, and orchards here.  Incidentally, I learned that the wine region here is called Colli Pesaresi - although to my knowledge my family doesn't have a winery of its own (by the way, "Pesaresi" just means "from Pesaro"; "colli," in this sense of the word, translates to "hills").  I shall have to see if I can find some wines from the Colli Pesaresi region when we are back in the US!

When we arrived, M., her husband L., her daughter A. (they have a son, too, but he is currently studying in Milano), and M.'s parents were waiting to greet us.  And inside waiting for us was cousin F. - my grandfather Alfonso's first cousin, who was born in 1926!  Her mother was my great grandfather's sister Palmira - the girl with the large bow in her hair in the photo at the top of this blog.  Hard to believe there is still someone of that generation living, but there she was, very sweet and frail.  She seemed quite happy to meet us, although we couldn't really speak directly to one another as she doesn't speak English and my Italian is next to nonexistent.  She is also extremely hard of hearing. My grandfather and she used to exchange brief letters and holiday cards - he would write in English while she would write in Italian - and she still had many of the cards and letters he'd sent over the years, which they showed me!  I let them know that I have the letters and cards she sent to him, as my grandparents gave them to me years ago (along with a lot of other family memorabilia) when they sold their house.

Me, F., and M's mother/F's daughter FS.  And one of their two dogs - it kept nipping me when we first arrived.  I realized after we left that we didn't get cousin M. in this group picture for some reason😞

A US map was brought out, and we were asked to indicate on it who lives where - so we marked ourselves in PA, and to the best of our ability added various other relatives they asked about.

Mapping out the US Pesaresi family

After looking through photos and letters, marking the map, and of course, caffè, we set off to see the ancestral homestead - the home where my great, great grandparents lived, which was just a short drive away.  

The house is now owned by a German couple.  While we were there taking pictures, the woman came out to see what we were doing there.  She wasn't overly-friendly and more or less chased us away, as she was busy painting, she said (in English) - although she invited us to come back some other time.  I apologized for disturbing her and explained I'd just wanted to see the house where my great grandfather once lived.  We scooted off pretty quickly after that.

We also stopped to visit the town cemetery.  L. asked me about the cemetery at home - I think perhaps he assumed the family was all buried in one place, which isn't the case - and I did my best to explain that cemeteries in the US are not at all like the cemeteries commonly found in Italy.  In Italy, the cimitero is usually a sort of walled enclave located outside the town proper, and owned by the local comune, not the church (I believe my own comune charges a nominal "cemetery tax").  A typical cimitero consists of family mausoleums and rows of vaults - they look almost like a little village.  In at least some cimiteri, the vaults might be leased rather than owned outright; if the lease is not renewed, the deceased (or whatever remains of them) is then removed to an ossuary elsewhere on the grounds.  

Views of the cimitero

The vaults of Palmira Pesaresi and her husband, Adolfo Mosca (the parents of cousin F.)

The vault of Pietro Pesaresi, father of Cesare and Palmira.  

From there, we were taken to see the birthplace of Santa Maria Goretti, who was born here in 1890 - just nine years before the birth of Cesare Pesaresi (she died when he was three years old).  If you're not familiar with her story, know that it's not a very pleasant one - she is the patron saint of crime victims - rape victims in particular - among other things.

This is the bed in which Maria was born

Afterwards, we drove into the walled centro storico for a walking tour.  Two of the more well-known sights of Corinaldo:

Del Pozzo della Polenta - the "Polenta Well."  The story goes that a man carrying a sack of corn flour was walking up the steep hill (I guess the steps hadn't been built yet).  He stopped to rest at the well, and his sack of flour fell in - and he jumped in after it.   Polenta-making chaos ensued - there are actually several variations of the story of what happened next:  some say he threw down some sausages, too; others say the townspeople jumped in after him because they didn't want him to selfishly eat all the polenta himself.  It's a little weird, to be sure; perhaps the story doesn't translate well across cultures.  But there is a yearly festival based on this story called La Contesta del Pozzo della Polenta - the Struggle for the Polenta Well.  The festival isn't about the polenta; rather, it is in honor of the well itself - the water from it ensured the victory of the Corinaldesi over the Duke of Urbino, who laid siege to the town back in the 1500s

This "house" is, obviously, just a façade.  The story behind the Casa di Scuretto is that Signore Scuretto, the town drunk, had a son who went to the US to work.  The son would send money back to his father, which was to be used to build a house to which the son would one day return after having made his fortune in America.  But the father spent the money in the local bars instead.  At some point, his son got suspicious and asked his father to send him pictures of the work in progress.  The father quickly had this façade built, stuck a house number on it, and sent the requested photos.  Eventually, the son found out what his father had done, and stopped sending money - so the house was never finished.

The town is larger than I had imagined.  I wish that we had planned to spend more time here, because there was much more we would have liked to have seen.  We did have a chance to climb up one part of the city walls - which, incidentally, aren't actually the original walls, as they "only" date back to the late 1400s!  So:  practically new, in Italian terms.  

Inside some kind of walkway within the walls, I think - it was a little unclear to us where we were at this point - we were just following L. as he led us through the highlights.  I wish I'd had a map...

One of the city gates

M. & L., atop the tower at the Porta Nova, I believe

The "New" Gate dates from 1490.

Views from atop the city walls

At the main entrance to city hall

Just a couple of tourists on a breezy day - please excuse my wind-blown hair

Side view of the end of a row of small houses that I thought were cute; too bad I didn't see any "vendesi" ("for sale") signs on any of them.  The front door for this end unit is on the left (unseen) side of the building.

The last part of our somewhat whirlwind tour included visits to a couple of the town's major churches.  Our first stop was the Sanctuario di Santa Maria Goretti (formerly known as the Chiesa di Sant'Agostino):

The saint's mother.

We also stopped in at the Chiesa dell'Addolorata, where they keep the Madonna and the Dead Christ that are carried in the town's Good Friday procession:

The Good Friday procession statues

After our tour of Corinaldo, we returned to the family's home to say goodbye and thank you to the cousins before heading back down the A14 (the Autostrata Adriatica) towards home.  As we were driving, we took note of how pretty the route is.  The A14 runs from Bologna over to the coast, then more or less down the Adriatic coastline before cutting back over to Taranto at the western top of the "heel" of the "boot" of Italy - on the Gulf of Taranto in the Ionian Sea.  We decided that we might like to do an A14 road trip someday - starting in Bologna and working our way down, stopping along the way to explore whatever cute beach towns catch our fancy.  Anybody in?

When we finally arrived home, we realized - much to our embarrassment - that we'd completely forgotten to give our hosts a cake we'd bought at our local bakery as a gift for them.  This cake is called Colomba di Pasqua ("dove cake," although to me, the texture is more like a light, sweet bread - somewhat like a panettone),  and is traditionally served at Eastertime here (Paolo waited in line for quite a while at the bakery to get one).  Ugh, I felt like a jerk - I don't know how it slipped my mind.  Well, I will send them something from the US once we return, I guess.  In the meantime, we've been eating the cake/bread ourselves, as there's no sense in letting it go to waste; it's super tasty.  I will have to see if I can find a good recipe to replicate this back in the US.  Which, sadly, will be all too soon...

Next up:  Paolo had an appointment to pick up his carta di soggiorno at the questura in Campobasso.

Overnight in Senigallia

We were invited to stay overnight in the little pied-à-terre of cousin M. and her husband L. in the nearby beach resort town of Senigallia (a little less than 25 minutes from their home on the outskirts of Corinaldo, my great grandfather's hometown).  We had a great view of the beach from the balcony:

The vibe of the beachfront area is not unlike that of Avalon, NJ, for example, with its quaint little shops and trendy-ish restaurants.  The beaches along the Adriatic coast - at least the ones we've passed on our travels - seem to be narrower than most of those along the South Jersey shore.  I imagine it gets pretty lively here in the summer time.  It seems to be a family-oriented area, as we saw a few playground areas along the beach - though not in a loud, neon-lighted Wildwood or busy-boardwalk Ocean City kind of way (with apologies to those who enjoy those types of places).

We met up with L. and daughter A. in the early evening for a very quick tour of parts of the centro storico of Senigallia before picking up M. at work:

Rocca Rovaresca, a Gothic fortress

Foro Annonario, where there is a daily market.  The inside of the building was once the fish market - inside you can still see the large stone slab tables where the fish would have been displayed.  Today there seems to be a historical exhibit of some kind inside, but we didn't visit that, just peeked through the windows

Inner courtyard, Palazzetto Baviera

After our very quick walking tour, we picked up cousin M. from her place of work and headed to dinner at a nearby restaurant, where we had Neapolitan-style pizza (note that Napoli is about 4.5 to 5 hours southwest of here by car).  We certainly had fun trying to communicate with one another.  A. speaks some English, so she helped translate a bit; mostly we had to resort to translation apps on our phones.  Interestingly, the servers in the restaurant spoke quite good English.  I wonder if many British tourists visit during the summers...?  

After dinner we walked off some of the calories on a quick tour of the beach/port area.  We saw where all the fishing boats dock (I didn't get any pictures of them as it was not particularly well-lit in that area), as well as what appeared to be a boating or yacht club, perhaps - at any rate, there were a lot of sailboats:

We also took a walk out on the pier to see the Rotondo a Mare.  I think they host events and exhibits inside; unfortunately, it wasn't open when we were there, so we could not walk all the way around it.  But it was still very cool to see lit up at night:

Rotondo a Mare

Fountain, with the Rotondo to the left in the background

View of the town in the early evening

I wish we had planned to spend more time here; it's a charming little town and I'd like to go back and see more of it - perhaps on our next trip!

Up Next:  a visit to Cesare's hometown.

Good Friday

In Italy, Good Friday is not a public holiday; shops, banks, etc. typically remain open for their normal business hours.  The public holiday here is Easter Monday, or Pasquetta ("little Easter").  However, many towns - including our comune - have some type of Good Friday Procession or similar event.

Here, one half of the participants marched from one side of town carrying a statue of the Virgin in order to meet up in the middle of the central street with the other half of the group, who were carrying a coffin containing an effigy of the deceased Christ and coming from the other side of town.  The local priest then gave a sermon or speech from one of the balconies (I couldn't understand much of what he was saying).  He came back down and led the entire procession back to the church.

Here is a link to the video I filmed of the procession (it's about 13 minutes long).  And I took a few photos as well:

Procession with the coffin coming from the "monastery" side of town

Virgin Mary coming from the "church" end of town

The guy in the blue coat and jeans with white hair is our landlord

Priest doing his priestly thing on the balcony with the red banner

Processing back to the church.  I didn't follow them because I already had a glass of wine waiting for me at the bar.  And also I wouldn't want the altar to burst into flames and ruin everyone's good time.

Most of the residents of the comune seemed to be out in the streets, either participating in the procession or watching it from the sidelines.  Once the festivities were over, the bar filled up pretty quickly - perhaps because there was a Serie A soccer game to watch on the big screen...?  

Tomorrow we will be making the drive - about 4 hours - up to Senigallia, as my cousin kindly invited us to visit and spend the night at her apartment there.  For Pasquetta, we will (finally!) get to see the town of Corinaldo, where my great grandfather was born!