Perpetual Change

Thoughts of summer

These are more old notes but centered around Backroads and my summer in Italy or my trip back home. As far as the weather here now, it has been most unusually warm. Sometimes we get several inches of snow, but then it all melts. It has been mostly VERY wet, and right after the snow, rather icy, so rather unpleasant, but it keeps us all thinking of spring. Besides, I’ll take mud over minus (Celsius) any day.

“I sat at the dog park today, in Florence, waiting for a friend. I couldn’t help imagining what life would be like if people greeted as dogs do.

“Then I went to the main Florence electronics shop. Several people around town had recommended it as the place to go. Above the door the sign proudly stated that they first opened in 1876. What were they selling then?! I was trying to get a battery for my 5 year old cell phone. This was apparently my last chance. The bad news was they, too, no longer carried it. The good news, they said, was how amazing it is to have lasted so long.

“When I finished with Backroads, I thought how peculiar that I out of all the people I had met, I gave my blog to only one couple. I think I only gave my email to 7 people, out of all my guests and coworkers. On my beautiful, solitary last bike ride in Tuscany, I realized that Backroads’ main product is the sale of the well-balanced habits of its leaders. We sacrifice our normal balance for the week, so that you can have more in your lives, for that time. You eat right, sleep enough and with out worry, exercise every day, have meaningful conversations, see beautiful and culturally rich places and have no stress; while we suspend our usual routine of these things and have lots of stress. It is kind of an amazing deal. Now this isn’t the case every time, but definitely in the majority of cases. Others did enjoy the trips in a different way, including that couple that might be reading this.

“As a professional translator, I did my first interpretation of a pecorino cheese factory. I had never heard the tour before, but it went quite well. Twice I thought I was stuck, but luckily the owner, Ernello, who doesn’t speak English, did know the words for ‘pregnant’ (sheep don’t give milk for those three months) and ‘ash’ (which they mix into olive oil and paint onto the cheese bricks for aging). The group, to my surprise was very interested and asked lots of questions. Two nights before they had been all-but-rude during their interactive cooking class (also through translation); of course, this time we withheld the wine until after the demonstration. At the end, one of my guests said how great it was to watch two people, who love their work, interact – referring to me and Ernello. I think this was the nicest compliment I had all summer. (Sando, you were with me the first time I served as a translator officially but unpaid: at the Chernobyl Museum).

“The same group at dinner the first night, lulled in conversation just as I answered someone’s question about how the city only had water 5 hours in the morning and evening where I lived in Ukraine. I hadn’t thought anything odd about the answer until I brought a group of 16 to a halting silence; it was a peculiar event. They also think that it is so wonderful that I am going back to work at an orphanage; it is funny to me, how I think nothing of it.

“Perhaps my final Backroads note ever: The work had a very unusual Ying and Yang, which I now mostly attribute to the sale of our balance as leaders. I may have mentioned how after I wrote a rather depressed blog, the next day I had a great ride up a small mountain. On top there was an incredible view of the Arno valley with a fig tree ripe with fruit and a really old church that smelled like a village church in Ukraine. A few days later I went for a haircut. The Italians are so good as barbers. As the woman worked adeptly on my hair, a man shaved me. I had never had two people working on me at once; it was quite luxurious.

“While at the barbers, the conversation turned to culture. I don’t know if I direct it that way, or if it is having a foreigner that speaks your language at hand, but it seems that most of my conversations sooner or later turn to this topic and how cultures affect people and traditions and society. People always want me to compare, which I do not like to do. I always say that cultures are different; each has its plusses and minuses. Even on my way home my favorite shopkeeper brought up something on the topic too.

Summer weddings:

At Brigid and Jesse Medlin’s wedding, I re-met a girl who remembered me from my creative writing and biology classes in high school. She was Josh Myer’s lab partner; Josh sat in front of me, which means we worked together more than occasionally – him and his partner and me and mine, Stephanie Shelow. Unfortunately, I didn’t remember this girl at all; I was a bit embarrassed. The wedding was wonderful and so much fun. I got to help decorate and read in church at the wedding. Thank you guys, and I wish you many years of bliss.

I was also at the wedding of Jason and Marie Sando. It too was wonderful. I think I wrote some about it before, but my notes show that I didn’t express how much fun it was, but also exhausting. The six other groomsmen plus I, the groom and immediate families self-catered, served, and decorated for both the wedding and rehearsal dinner. I found myself teaching people to tie chair cover bows at 10:30 at night and napkin folds an hour before the wedding. It was all such a fun whirlwind that when the actual wedding started, it seemed a bit surreal. Of course, playing Flip Cup at the reception could have contributed. The groomsmen and I played, and won, 3 times. I flipped first try every time (except maybe once). Jason and Marie, may your years be full and healthy and may you have many kids.

But the thing that I really want to share is that we rushed over to the hotel where everyone was staying to shower and change just before the wedding. There were the 7 groomsmen and groom with 8 tuxes and a shortage of socks. I gave up my black ones for the sake of the groom; he was wearing a few things borrowed. So finally we are all ready, and get in the elevator. On about the third floor, the door slides open. There was room for one or two more but that was it. A middle aged woman was standing there; she looked us all up and down, and then said in a rich Southern accent,
“Oooo, I wish I had a biscuit. Because I could sop y’all up.”
…and the door slid slowly closed.

posted by jjs @ 9:39 AM