Rome and a New Eye

The Eternal City not only garnered my attention, but captured my heart. I have discovered multiple, untold truths about myself, as well as viewed myself in a fresh way. Rome with her layers of ancient, timeworn history and inhabitants stories, all physically left behind to remind us they had breath, continue to surround me with repose. Everywhere exists a divergent, distinguishable look, a unique and unambiguous cadence which ushers in each new day.

As I return to Carolina and stroll through my beloved town, Rome will enthrall and absorb every stride. What I won't see in my neighborhood is the metro bus which helped transport Graci to school and us to the next destination if lucky enough to jump on and catch a ride, the Mercato parading Italian vendors selling home grown fruits and vegetables, burlap sacks of beans, bags of pasta, homemade breads, freshest cuts of meat, finest catches of seafood, puffed pastries and mouth-watering chocolates. I won't see our elderly Italian neighbors playing cards outside the local cafe bar, two young Italian lovers publicly displaying their amorous advances, nor store front window spectacles of the latest fashions, if worn, would be unfamiliar to my own being.

What I won't see in my neighborhood are the familiar faces that once appeared as ghosts whom now call me friend, old structures constructed and forged by calloused hands, prolific splashes of color randomly positioned amid rooftops, the busy rhythm of expressos and cafes served to Italians assuming their position; standing and sipping inside our favorite bar. I won't see the breathtaking fountains that adorn the city, forever leaving me awestruck, cobblestone pathways emitting each and every story, while Italians and strangers alike enjoy their first taste of flavorful and yummy gelato.

You see, Rome has left an indelible impression on me which continues to profoundly change my existence. I have seen myself in new way. Although leaving this wonderful city soon, as well as a piece of my heart, I know my return will be welcomed and embraced with familiarity. Rome has given me a new eye for things that would go unnoticed at home in Carolina.

Bridging the Gap

Living in Italy, along with our two children and two dogs, has been an unforgettable experience without doubt. While sitting enjoying my first cup of tea on this beautiful, sunny, yet brisk morning in Rome, my mind recalls our initial few months of living this "foreign language" and reflecting on the decisions that influenced our resolve to pursue this unchartered path for our lives.

Our primary reason for relocating was the opportunity for Jon to help bring Upper Cervical Care to the nations, with Italy being the launching pad. So many of you have asked "Can't he do that living in the United States"...Yes, and was helping get sick people well with much success back home in Carolina. The opportunity to intimately and directly be involved in Research was the challenge that captivated his attention. Jon is working closely with the Italian Medical community as they collectively establish the direct result and function Upper Cervical Care contributes in the healing of selected patients. 


Likewise, the allure of Italy was coupled with purpose and intention. The aspiration to grasp the opportunity with deliberateness allowed Jon and me the resolve to relocate our family with optimism and expectancy that every single thing would line up according to our objectives....moreover our dreams. Oftentimes, the actuality of truth unearths camouflaged pretense which previously eludes you. 


A fresh take on "the lay of the land" so to speak, has provoked the children and me to decamp Rome, while Jon continues to satisfy his contractual obligation here in Italy. Our time will be divided amid two continents; I will soon be home to support and care for my mom during her impending surgery as well as reestablish "roots" for the children, whilst anticipating the next flight.

Rome has forever changed me. I stepped outside myself, followed my "Risk Taker", entwined myself to this Eternal City, garnered courage midst change, proliferated my faith, evolved with fortitude, assimilated a foreign language, and became conscious of essential strands of "candor".

Home to Rome...really?

Transition is slowly becoming reality, and while life seems to continue around us, we must "go for it" or stagnate. Living in this "foreign language" has taken all of us beyond our, so-called comfort zone, and propelled us into a favorable acceptance into this foreign existence. 


From the conception of our relocation to Rome, Graci requested to celebrate her 13th birthday in Paris, since...well, she would not enjoy a birthday party with her friends back home. Seeming logical, Jon and I agreed; actually we promised with blood tipped fingers, and throughout the waiting period were persistently reminded of the imminent and anticipated Paris Birthday Trip.


I must admit, Graci generated a good call, and we discovered Paris to be a delightful and exquisite city. The Tour Eiffel was our first stop and a favorite among the children. The tower looked like something a clever kid might have designed, and we climbed up the endless stairs through the tower's metal frame to arrive at a spectacular and memorable bird's-eye view of the city. Graci and Freedom were unaffected by the frigid temperatures as they ice skated on the tower's first stage...I, even now, cannot wrap my brain around an ice skating rink situated on the Eiffel Tower!


The highlight of the trip for me was Musee Du Louvre. The world's most famous museum did not disappoint. Filled with priceless treasures that include Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo, which were among my favorites, the Louvre transported me into a time capsule of Italian Renaissance, ancient Egypt, Roman mosaics, Etruscan art, Greek masterpieces, and sumptuous palace's. Graci and Freedom enjoyed the Sully wing with the mummies and other artifacts from ancient Egypt. Of course, after seeing what he considered the most captivating and engaging pieces, Freedom just wanted to locate the nearest eatery and "leave"....I was quickly reminded that he is simply a five year old little "Carolina" boy!


Paris was an unforgettable experience desired to be revisited once more. Amidst the whirlwind encounter, while recapping our weekend, Graci and I discovered that we were looking forward to going "home"...home to Rome? We literally mouthed the word "home". I have never considered Rome my home, Carolina is my home, but the familiarity and comfort that Rome represents announced, "Welcome Home". 

5 Senses of Running in Rome

I am quickly learning that "transition" has many faces, and, when looked square in the eye, reveal many facets about us and our surroundings. Taking this Carolina girl out of her comfort zone has left an indelible impression on me as I continue to experience this culture first hand, as well as, wait with expectation to embrace the differences that surround me. Leaving all that was beloved, secure, and familiar daily stretches me and uncovers yet another layer of doggedness, so to speak, to habituate myself and our family to Rome. 


Never have my senses been so alive and buoyant to the different sights, sounds, smells, feelings, and tastes of a "foreign language". Wrapping my brain around living in the Eternal City is task some days as we are in the midst of a divergent lifestyle. I have been telling the children that we have traded our country roads for the city subway, and I yearn for those country roads the most when running in the city. I miss the stillness of the morning, running by the horses in the pastures as they start their day, always aware of every stride, and the mountains which seem to look down with a watchful eye as I meander along.  I miss the sound of the river, the sweet melody of the birds, and the neighs which always greet the morning routine. I miss seeing familiar faces throw up their hand and give a friendly wave as I pass them in their car or working in the yard. You see, running for me consistently awakens every sense and jump-starts my day with a fresh, new awareness of my life at that moment and allows me to refuel for the day ahead.


Running in the city, in Rome, is new, unchartered territory for me consisting of noisy traffic (buses, cars, scooters, trains, emergency sirens), faces without a name, endless blocks of apartments to house the 3 million people, within a 16 mile inland radius, who reside here, and the historical buildings that have inhabited this land for thousands of years. However, the city runs also contain newly discovered, quaint quiet nooks off the cobblestone path that are enveloped with the smell of freshly baked bread, cappuccino from the neighborhood bar, pizza rich with tomato and cheese, and seasonal chestnuts roasting alongside the vendor trying to earn a few euros. 


As I sit here sharing with all of you, I am listening to the neighbors play beautiful live jazz music from their apartment across from us. Rome has been blessed with abundant sunshine and beautiful skies over the past couple of weeks, of which I am grateful. If I allow myself, I can become consumed and overwhelmed with the innumerable challenges that are in front of us. I have been taking the advice of a friend who encouraged me to focus on the little, daily blessings of God, which will increase my faith, instead of allowing my angst to sow seeds of doubt. 

Whether on a familiar country road or a newly discovered path, running will always provoke my senses and dispense the jump-start I need to begin our day! Join me!

Feast of the Epiphany and La Befana

Ciao friends, I thought I would share some info on one of the most celebrated holidays here in Italy other than Easter. Join me!

The Feast of the Epiphany, celebrated January 6 with a national holiday in Italy, and the tradition of La Befana, are a big part of Italian Christmas celebrations. The Epiphany commemorates the 12th day of Christmas when the three Wise Men arrived at the manger bearing gifts for baby Jesus. The traditional Christmas holiday season in Italy lasts through Epiphany.

La Befana


Italy's traditional celebration includes the tale of a witch, known as La Befana, who arrives on her broomstick the night of January 5th and fills the stockings with toys and sweets for the good children and lumps of coal for the bad ones.


According to the legend, the night before the Wise Men arrived at the manger, they stopped at the shack of an old woman to ask directions. They invited her to come along but she replied that she was too busy. Then a shepherd asked her to join him but again she refused. Later that night she saw a great light in the sky and decided to join the Wise Men and the shepherd bearing gifts that belonged to her child that had died. She got lost and never found the manger.

Now La Befana flies around on her broomstick each year on the 11th night bringing gifts to children in hopes that she might find the Baby Jesus. Children hang their stockings on the evening of January 5th, awaiting the visit of La Befana.

The origins of La Befana may actually go back farther, to the Roman's pagan festival of Saturnalia, a one or two week festival starting just before the winter solstice. At the end of Saturnalia, Romans would go to the Temple of Juno on the Capitoline Hill, to have their augers read by an old crone. Many pagan traditions were incorporated into Christmas celebrations when Christianity became mainstream. La Befana was a good substitute for the old woman who read the augers. The saying auger, originated with this practice, too, as it was common to wish someone good augers.

I have included a picture of many La Befana's that are sold during this time of year. This picture was taken at Piazza Navona where they have a Christmas Festival each year. The children had a blast riding the carousel, eating crepes, watching the clown, and shopping!

"Parla Inglese?"

Amidst our busyness in trying to settle in, I have been thinking about everything that has happened since the children and I arrived in Rome 12 days ago. You know, I borrowed the title "Living in a Foreign Language" and it seems to speak volumes into our journey thus far. 


My first experience in trying to communicate with someone was while we were desperately searching for our puppies once we arrived at the airport in Rome. We flew out of Charlotte on US Air and the pups flew out of Atlanta on Delta in their climate controlled cargo. We were all scheduled to arrive within 2 hours of the other and as they say here, non c'e un problema. We knew that customs in Rome would close early because it was Saturday, so we were working within a small time frame. Important bit of info that we were not given was that the pups were dropped off across town in a separate cargo location, NOT where we were. I knew the word for dog was cane, and after a couple of attempts at "Parla inglese", we found an employee with a badge and walkie talkie who understood what I was asking. So, I have just arrived in Rome with 11 bags, 2 kids, and 2 missing puppies. Ok, the story has a happy ending...BUT, not before Jon had to take a shuttle to pick up the pups, leaving us to stay behind with the bags, AND leaving the paperwork he needed to receive the pups. He returns to the airport, grabs the paperwork, then off he travels again. Five long hours later, he arrives back at the airport with the pups who successfully passed through customs and the vet check...WHEW!


Throughout the past few days as we've become more familiar and comfortable with our new and unchartered waters, I have been on overload with the language, how fast the words seem to flow, how everyone around me doesn't have to try and decode every sound they hear, how I feel my brain is working overtime trying to fall in love with this foreign language and learn it's linguistics ALL at the same time...here are a few examples:


A very seemingly sweet elderly lady was peering out of her 3rd story window, at our new apartment, looking down on the pups and me as they were on a potty break. Well, she proceeded to speak to me in italian while looking at the pups. I told her non parlo l'italiano and she continued to speak to me as if I knew every word she was saying. I gently nod, smile, and pray that she is not swearing to me about the pups. I'd like to think that she was welcoming us to the neighborhood...HAH!


A couple of days ago while shopping at the market, I knew the Italian equivalent for turkey was tacchino. I was proud of myself as I meandered "with purpose" to the deli section of the store and found tacchino. Well, I never anticipated the wonderful, and I must add, patient lady waiting on me not to understand ANY inglese. After a lot of body language and communicating with our hands, she determined how I desired the meat cut and how much I needed. I felt as if I had just worked an 8 hour hospital shift.


Last example, although I could continue for hours. Graci and I decided that we must have boots, especially when every person walking the streets of Rome looked like they have just stepped out of a fashion magazine, seriously! Our first attempt landed us in a store where the very attractive young Italian girl spoke little inglese. She grabbed another very attractive Italian girl and asked her to help us, which surmounted to her then grabbing a very attractive young man that worked with them and asked him to help us, because she was "off" duty. HAH! After trying on several pairs of boots and Graci not seeing any she liked, we said grazie and dashed out thinking we must get a shopping translator. Albeit, I thought shopping included a universal code among us women!! We did end up landing some pretty cool boots and at least our feet look great.


I know with time "living in this foreign language" will start making sense and our Italian neighbors will be able to peer out their windows, smile while we play with the pups,  and not hear me ask, "Parla Inglese?"

Chaos to Calm?

If I am honest with myself, and those who have witnessed the past several weeks, can testify to the chaotic spirit that hovered and landed upon our lives and overtook our household. The enormity of this move to Rome snuck up on me like a preying lion. We had decided to wait until the purchase of Jon's office was approved and closed before embarking on the final stages of the transition abroad. Well I say final stages, actually it was more like the majority of all that physically needed to be done.
With the help of some special friends coming alongside during such an incredibly hectic and emotional time, we managed to salvage what nerves were hanging on by a thread and pushed forward and through to the bitter end.

As I sit here in Rome, writing the first of many experiences from this most ancient, historic, and amazing city, I am deeply moved by the outpouring of love that has been lavished upon the kids and me.....I cannot begin to express my gratitude....I love all of you!!! Most days leading up to the move were completed with little sleep and skipped meals, but wrapped with love and a lot of prayer from so many of you!!!

Now for the calm....
Although we are currently in a temporary dwelling that is still somewhat unsettled, there is a calm that is transcending all fear, anxiety, and the feeling of, well, a fish out of water! Our current landlord gave Graci some advice yesterday. She told her to write down and remember 5 words a day which will allow her to learn 30 new Italian words every week. She is on it my friends and is falling in love with the city. She told me just today that she feels like she has been here her entire life and loves it!!! We still have a lot of things to do which could continue to produce chaos, but the calm is waiting patiently to overshadow the chaos!!

I look forward in sharing our little corner with you and although in Rome, Carolina is never far away!!! Buona Notte!!