A Culinary Schizophrenic

Can I confess one of the most paralyzing things I've experienced since being back in the States?

Deciding what to cook and going to the grocery store.

It seems like it wouldn't be that hard.  Kind of like getting dressed in the morning.  You just do it.  For the first month after we returned, I was struck every day with panic over what to feed our family.  I would walk into the Super Target right across the street and meander aimlessly through the aisles.

For the first 34 years of my life, I shopped at an American grocery stores and cooked American food.  Why did that all of a sudden seem impossible?

I guess this is a classic expression of reverse culture shock.  Did you know there is culture shock in returning to your home country?  I think I had heard about it before, but I certainly hadn't given it any thought.  And then I was paralyzed.

I am not exaggerating when I say I cried every time I went to the grocery store for the first three weeks we were back.  It was absolutely overwhelming.  I had gotten used to cooking Italian food.  Now I couldn't find the ingredients to make what I was used to cooking and I couldn't remember what the heck to cook with the American food on the shelves.

A wise friend offered great words of advice.  Having lived overseas herself, she said, "Your life in Italy will always affect your current life.  Think of that as a good thing."  Yes.  Good that I don't want to make hamburgers or pot roast or Bar-B-Que.  It's OK that we are craving mozzarella balls and pasta carbonara.

So step one was accepting the new culinary schizophrenic I had become.  I don't have to cook like an American and I can't cook entirely like an Italian.

Fast forward two months and our meal plan this week has two all-American dishes and three Italian dishes (and a Chinese dish just for the heck of it).  We made Bolognese Ragu for the first time last night (it's been way too hot outside to make it before now. . . ), and it was divine.  With the coming of Fall in Italy always came Ragu.  It just felt right.  And on Christmas Eve this year, we will have have Tortellini and Brodo, just as every family is Bologna will.  Of course, Christmas Day will bring a big, ole' turkey or ham--neither of which will be eaten by an Italian.

Step two was finding somewhere to shop where I wouldn't break down in tears!  I found a great little "market" of a store called Freshfield Farms that helped me imagine a manageable shopping experience.  They have beautiful fresh produce, and they have fresh meats they cut themselves.  That's it.  On Saturdays I drive up to Winter Park to go to their Farmer's Market, which is life-giving to me.  Small vendors, fresh produce, seasonal vegetables.  And there is even a vendor where I can get some of the Italian cheeses we desperately miss.

There is still much I miss being able to get at the store, but I'm slowly filling in the gaps.  And no tears in weeks!  Once more, I am learning how to embrace the new me.

Pedibus

Pedibus (ped--ee--boos).

What the heck is a Pedibus?  It does kind of sound like a bad skin rash, doesn't it?  It just so happens to be a very unique new initiative our community is trying with school kids.  It translates roughly into "walking bus."

In an effort to get kids walking more, they've organized a walking route to get kids to school in the morning.  Cody volunteered to help lead the our "line" on Tuesdays.  So last week, the Pedibus started its inaugural route.  

Cody leading the Green Line into the school

We walk to school almost every day, so we thought it was a fun idea to get a group together to walk with each other.  We were both shocked at how organized it was though!  Kids and volunteer parents all got vests to wear and all along the "route" are posted signs with the "stops" the Pedibus makes.  All very official.

Signs for four of the routes' stops.

After the fact, we realized the Pedibus was a much bigger deal than we had thought!  The community (hard to translate to something in America--it almost operates as its own little town) took lots of pictures of the first day of operation and posted them on their official website (that's where these came from. . . ).

Safe at school

The irony of it is that only Cody and one other parent volunteered from our route to lead the Pedibus.  So our line only operates on Tuesdays--and there are only two weeks of school left. :)  But we're doing our part to contribute!  Really, it's all very fun.  Hannah had a great time, and I'm pretty sure Cody did too.

An Italian Childhood

Our kids had a great time in America last Fall.  But if you ask Hannah, she will say, "I don't want to go back to America for a long time."  Though she likes the US, Italy is her home.  A totally normal thing for a missionary kid.  But still a little weird for Mom and Dad.

Our family has experienced all the same events during our time in Italy, but our kids are being shaped in an entirely different way than we are.  Their childhood memories will be completely different than ours ever were.  Riding trains are a normal part of life.  They go to school in classrooms where the lights aren't turned on unless it's raining outside.  Just different.

Of course, a big part of an Italian childhood are birthday parties.  We have said it before, but they are just a huge part of childhood for the kids.  We went to yet another party this weekend, and it was a fully typical Italian party.

The family of the birthday girl rented a social community center and invited every kid from class, plus all the extended family.  Birthday parties are such a big deal that there are business who provide the entertainment and activities.  This family hired such a company.  Above, the kids are playing old-fashioned tug of war, facilitated by the entertainment guy.

Sack races, using trash bags

Of course, a group of boys gathered to play soccer.  Gavin played for the entire evening.

In between planned activities, there was lots of dancing.  Here is Hannah with her friends, doing a choreographed dance they often do during recess at school.

Mostly Ben sampled the food and made sure the swing got a workout.

Food is an integral part of every birthday party.  And you usually have to feed a lot of people!  At this party, they served fresh crescentini.  Crescentini are something specific to Emiglia-Romagna (the region of Italy Bologna is in).  In fact, our friends who live in other parts of Italy have never even heard of them.  Very representative of what Italian cuisine is like--vastly different dependent on region.  

Anyway, we LOVE crescentini.  They are one of our very favorite things.  Basically, they are sopapillas that you use as sandwich bread.  You spread something similar to cream cheese on it and then top it with sliced meats.  This meat is cured prosciutto.  Then you fold it in half and enjoy!  On the sweeter side, you can also spread nutella or jams on top.  Yummy, yummy, yummy.

Italian etiquette is that you don't leave until the birthday cake has been cut--usually about two hours into the party.  This cake was tiramisu.  And it was good. :)

After the cake, but before the presents were opened, the entertainment crew did a magic show.  That was a first for us.  

The weather was beautiful, and we enjoyed every minute of being outside.  Gavin was quite upset when we finally left at 7:30 to get the kids to bed.  "But Mom, we only got to stay for three hours!"  And truly, we were the first people to leave. 

This is where we seem to have the best ministry opportunities.  Three hours of partying leaves a lot of time to chat with the other parents.  It's what the kids will remember as their "normal childhood," and it's what we'll remember as the environment God used to teach us a lot about Italian family and culture.

While in Assisi. . .

When I was in high school, I spent three weeks one summer traveling around Europe, singing in various churches with a choir.  One of the songs we sang was "The Prayer of St. Francis."

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury,pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

As a young believer, I was captured by the words.  Soon after joining the staff of Campus Crusade for Christ, I was re-introduced to St. Francis and became fascinated with his radical commitment to love as Christ.  Yes, there are some "interesting" aspects to his calling and ministry, but it is clear that his life was changed by the risen Christ.

St. Francis was from Assisi, Italy.  It is about an hour and half east/northeast of Rome.  Assisi is in the hills, and I've heard it's just beautiful.  Thousands and thousands flock to the small little village every year to visit the land where the Catholic Church's most popular saint was born and ministered.  I've wanted to visit since we arrived in Italy, but I've also known it probably wasn't a place my kids would enjoy much, so I hadn't had the chance.

Assisi

A couple of weeks ago, however, we had a conference just for missionary moms.  It was held about 15 minutes from Assisi.  So one afternoon I had the opportunity to spend a few hours exploring the town.  It was just as beautiful and quaint as I had been told.  My heart broke, however, when we visited the cathedral and monastery that stand in honor of St. Francis.

St. Francis Church and Monastery--it is set on the edge of a hill, overlooking a valley.  Beautiful.

As are most churches, it was filled with beautiful frescos.  These did not depict the life of Christ, however.  The central figure in each was St. Francis.  The architecture of the church is very unique, having two entirely separate places of worship under the floor of the main sanctuary.  Under those is yet another small chapel where over the altar is a sarcophagus thought to hold the bones of St. Francis.  Over the altar.  It is a sacred place for many--there was a plaque commemorating the pilgrimage Pope John Paul made during his papacy.  People have left photos of loved ones all over the stones that hold up the sarcophagus.  Obviously many come to this place expecting a spiritual experience of some kind--even a miracle.

I was shocked by the--dare I say this word--idolatry made of this man.  His bones set on an altar!  The frescos illuminate St. Francis, not Christ.  My heart was so burdened for all the people who come to this place looking for spiritual enlightenment and look to a man instead of the Maker of man.  What a huge distraction to seeing the One whom Francis wanted his life to point to in all ways.  I felt like God's glory had been stolen.

Assisi is a hilly town.  Lovely to look at, hard to navigate. :) On the highest hill remains a castle.

Please don't misunderstand my heart.  I was not filled with condescension.  Or judgment.  I was filled with all out compassion--the gut-wrenching, head-spinning, I-want-to-stand-up-and-shout kind of compassion.  I wanted everyone who had pilgrimaged to this little village in nowhere Italy to know that the spiritual experience they were after is available to them at any time, in any place.  The God of the Universe wants to interact with them in the most precious, personal, life-changing, miraculous ways.

God has changed my heart in countless ways in the past two and half years.  The love and compassion I feel for those I pass by every day can knock me off my feet.  My trip to Assisi changed me, and not in the way I was expecting.

And just so you know, I still think St. Francis was an incredible man of God.  He is still one of my heros of the faith.  He was willing to be absolutely radical because of the call God placed on his heart.  I want to be as willing.

*If you want to learn more about the life of St. Francis, G.K Chesterton wrote my favorite biography.  It's aptly titled Saint Francis of Assisi.

A Full Weekend

Let's be honest.  We don't have a "normal" 9-5 job.  We never have.  The weekends are when we do some of the most time-intensive ministry.  This past weekend would have completely worn us out, even a year ago.  But now, though we're a little physically tired, we had a great weekend!

We spent all day Saturday preparing for dinner with Fabio and Alessia.  We have never cooked them an Italian meal before (PRESSURE!), but long story short, she volunteered to bring Octopus salad.  Yes, octopus.  It's served cold with a little olive oil, vinegar and mint.  And in case you're wondering, yes, there are suckers involved.  My planned fried chicken was not going to go with Octopus salad.

So plan B.  I thought, and asked around, and scoured cookbooks.  Finally, I settled on Risotto with Salmon and Spumante.  I also made an appetizer of spinach and artichoke dip (not an italian dish, but I had to have something. . . ).  Long story short, dinner was great!  My one social faux pax was serving the spinach and artichoke dip as an appetizer.  It also has mozzerella and cream cheese in it, which apparently qualifies it as a secondo (the second course, which is usually meat).  Now I know. :)

And for the record, Cody, my seafood-weary husband, ate everything.  He even came close to saying he liked the Octopus salad ("As long as I didn't think about what I was eating, it wasn't bad!").

A snow-covered vineyard

On Sunday morning, we packed up everyone and headed downtown to visit a new evangelical church started by some missionaries from England.  We also woke up to a beautiful snowfall that continued all day long.  Though captivating, it made for a cold, wet walk downtown.  The kids couldn't resist every opportunity to pick some up or jump in a melted puddle.  The church was a great encouragement (it's entirely in Italian).  We are praying about what the Lord would want for our involvement in it.

Part of the drive up into the hills around Bologna

As soon as lunch was over, we hopped back in the car and drove to the hills just outside of Bologna to meet some American friends at this restaurant they have been raving about for a year.  It was a crazy, snowy drive, but the sights were incredible.  And the food was amazing.  They specialize in crescentini, these sopapilla-like things you put cheese and meat and jelly and nuetella on.  They are local to the Emilia-Romagna region and are one of our very favorite culinary discoveries.  Two and half hours later, we left with bellies unable to hold one more bite and hearts full of thankfulness for God's provision of friends we really enjoy hanging out with (this family has kids our kids age, which makes is that much easier).

Hannah savoring every drop of the lemon sorbetta they brought for the kids

The parking lot of the restaraunt--the kids were dying to play in the snow.  Unfortunately, Ben didn't have gloves, so it didn't last for long.  It was incredibly beautiful though!

The kids couldn't hold it any more.  They completely crashed on the way home from the restaurant.  A good time was had by all!

We got home at 5pm, just in time for Hannah to finish her homework and all of us to crash.  Tired, yes.  Exhausted, no.  We were even energized a bit by it.  We have come so far in the past two and half years!  We are so deeply encouraged by the life God is weaving together for us here.  Our friends come from such different places--Americans, Italians, missionaries, Agape Italia staff, non-believers--but they each meet a specific need.  It is good.

A Bonus Post

Yesterday when I was getting the kids a snack, I was reminded of one of the Italian food things that cracks me up.  I thought I'd share this little glimpse into the culture with you in a bonus post!

This is a bag of cookies (the ones pictured on the right).  I give them to the kids for a snack with a little Nutella on top (Nutella and peanut butter for  a REALLY special treat :) ).  What this is saying is that they make an ideal breakfast. Six cookies, fresh juice, berry yogurt and coffee.  380 calories.  Perfect.

Ah, Italian cuisine.  It's incredible.  Even Italians draw the line at pasta for breakfast though--the problem is they just don't have any good alternatives.  Unless you want cookies for breakfast.  :)

Some Reality

Today I'm posting a link for an article Time Magazine ran on the reality Italian college graduates are facing.  It communicates one of the reasons for the overall hopelessness we are hearing from the Italians we talk with--not only college students, but our peer-aged friends too.


Please take a few minutes to read it.  It communicate well an aspect of life in Italy that is hard for Americans to understand.  It's also an aspect of life we are trying to use to point Italians toward Christ, the only reason for hope.


http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2024136-1,00.html

MONDIALE 2010!!!!!

Here we are four years removed from our first trip to Italy and we have the privilege of experiencing another World Cup in Italy. While little was known or expected from Gli Azzurri (the Italian squad) four years ago, this year Italians are even less expectant of a successful World Cup.

"The squad is too old, they have not played together long enough. The coach is no good." These are just a few of the exclamations we have heard from our neighbors and friends. Regardless of how Italy does this year, the level of involvement on a communal level is still so much fun to be a part of. . .and this time we have the added experience of knowing the langauge.



As the Mondiale 2010 (World Cup) approaches, one sees more and more Italian flags going up in windows and shops. And flat screen TVs appear out of nowhere at gelato stands and pizzerias. The photo above is a scene from our local gelato stand, which we frequent almost daily. This was taken moments before Italy kicked off their first game of this year's World Cup. While most people won't argue that the Super Bowl is the sporting event of the year in the U.S., one doesn't see the total community experience like that which exists here in Italy for soccer. Everything from daily conversations to work schedules on a national level are affected by when Gli Azzurri play. In otherwords, EVERYTHING stops when Italy is on the field. There is nothing that one can do aside from join in and cheer them on.
This past year, we've also seen Gavin take a keen interest in playing soccer ("calcio" in Italian). We tried to introduce it to him when we arrived two years ago, but he was not interested in the least. After a year at school, where he plays it everyday with his friends on the playground, he has become quite adept. Going outside to kick around has become a daily activity in our household, and as far as he is concerned, Italy is the best team in the tournament. Hopefully, he won't be too heartbroken if things don't work out this year....

Gelato Season is Here!

Cody and I have said that after last summer we both suffer from a little "Post Traumatic Summer Heat Disorder." Knowing that the heat is on its way is enough to send us both into a little bit of a panic.

It's definitely warming up. The past few days have been in the upper 90's, and we finally rolled out our portable air conditioner to set up in the living room during the heat of the day. The one perk (and we're really stretching to see a bright side!) is that when the heat comes, gelato is no longer a special treat but a neccessity.

This was the first time we let Ben have his very own cup. He did really well and was only slightly sticky for the bus ride home.

Italians know how to do gelato well, and they optimize it for summer cool-downs. Gelato is more dense and less creamy than ice cream, so it isn't nearly as heavy. And there are usually more fruit/sorbet flavors offerred than any other kind. The average serving size is probably less than a 1/2 C. It's just a bite of cold. That's really, really yummy.

Conveniently, there is a really good gelato stand on the way home from the kids' school. Since we have to pick the kids up at 4:30 in the afternoon, it often takes all we have to gear up for the walk. Knowing there is a little treat to look forward to somehow makes it a little more bearable.

The kids celebrate in April when the gelato stands open, and so do we. They are kind of like coffee bars--the commraderie of trying to survive the heat brings you together somehow. And it's a sad sight when they close up shop in the Fall. But for now we are enjoying the gelato season in full swing!

One Unexpected Venue for Learning

As I continue (Cody here) to grow in my mastery over the Italian language (which really still has mastery over me), I find more and more doors opening up to allow me into the culture. While this is not a new or deep thought, it has lead me down a road I never imagined myself going.

Over the course of our first year here, I tried to educate myself somewhat on the basic principles of wine...more specifically Italian wine. I soon found out how daunting of a task this could be. In a country that produces around 1 billion litres per year and has over 1 million vines under cultivation, I found myself simply not wanting to sound completely ignorant walking into a winestore. As I've tried to learn how to master the lingo, I have also, unexpectedly, learned incredible things about Italy and the people and history.

A year later, and with far more Italian under my belt, I find myself wondering why I can't find a Sangiovese Superiore that I really like (I finally did last weekend!) and trying to figure out how to ship home the 1.50Euro bottle of local table wine that is impressively good. Of course, as with most learning experiences, if it can be shared with a friend, it's usually more enjoyable. So last April a friend and I decided to educate ourselves in the realm of Italian wine. What began as a get together once a month has now developed into a weekly dinner to discuss what we're learning, try a new wine or enjoy a favorite.

Last weekend, we spent the entire day visiting local vineyards to talk with producers and become more familair with the entire process (sorry I don't have pictures! It was incredible). It may seem kind of weird, but experiences like that are exactly the kind of language experiences I need. I have enough to follow what's being talked about, and it's in an environment where I'm stretched to grow in my ability to communicate. My friend and I are now talking about what it would take for us to enroll in a Sommelier course this Fall (a Sommelier is an official "wine expert"). Who knows. . . anything is possible.

With wine being so much more than just a beverage here in Italy, it has been a really fun way for me learn more about Italian heritage and culture, while growing in my language skills too. Again, who would have thought God would have used wine in this way?

Slow Coffee

We have often commented that one of the many differences between Italy and the U.S. is that in America, we have slow coffee (big cups with roomy and comfortable coffee shops) and fast food (don't think I need to say more). In Italy, there is only fast coffee (they are called coffee bars because you literally stand at a bar, throw back your coffee and walk out the door) and slow food (aside from the occasional McDonald's and some pizzerias, there are no other restaurants where you can take your food to go). It has fascinated us that in a country that places such a high value on coffee, there isn't a venue to linger over it. . .

Until now! A few weeks ago, a new coffee shop opened right in the heart of campus. I am pretty sure it is British-owned, but it is like walking into Starbucks! It was obviously designed as a place for students to hang out, with lots of knooks and big, comfy chairs. Here's a picture of Ben hanging out in one:

Not only is the atmosphere great (and spacious--there are three seperate sitting rooms), but they make flavored coffee drinks! I got a mocha this morning (they call it a Creative Chocolate), and it was just pretty darn good. A regular Italian cappucino takes about four swigs to down. . . this was a Starbucks-sized tall. And you can get a cup of "American coffee" if you'd like (regular brewed coffee). Wow!

Gavin, Benjamin and I stopped in for a snack this morning. It's a good thing this place is not especially close to our apartment! It's called Itit, which in Italian is pronounced Eateat. We thought that was kind of funny. :)

So obviously our tastebuds are pretty excited about this new discovery, but even more fantastic than the fun coffee and great atmosphere is that is right in the heart of campus. Every time we've been in there, it has been packed with college students. We have been dying to find a place like this where we can just hang out with students! Without a doubt, this place is going to change the way we do ministry.

A win-win, any way you look at it. The only down side is paying 3 Euro for my Creative Coffee, instead of 1.30 for an Italian cappuccino. Again, it's a good thing we don't live closer. . .

Italian Non-Verbals--Child's Play

One of the great things about Italian is that you can get by without understanding word for word what someone is telling you because of how animated Italians tend to be. We have been so thankful for this great aspect of Italian culture, as we've been working on growing in our language skills!

That being said, it is also vital to learn some of the common non-verbals almost every Italian has in their repretoire. If you don't, you will most likely miss out on some very important communication. Cody's been working on his facial non-verbals, but recently, we've noticed just how many the kids have picked up. They have graciously volunteered to give a little tutorial.

This is done by shaking the open hand up and down, and roughly means "come on. . . " (seriously, I'm saying something true)

Again, this is done by shaking the hands up and down and is used when you can hardly believe something is true or you're exaserbated.

Hands are held in this position and moved around kind of like directing music. Hannah uses it for emphasis when she's really getting worked up about something.

Classic Italian. And Gavin has it down. . . usually accompanied by a "Mamma Mia." Roughly it means, "Unbelievable," or sometimes "You're bustin' my chops!"


You can probably picture this one--the finger wagging back and forth. Hannah knows this one so well because it's a favorite of her teachers at school. It means "No way, Buster" in a polite and superior way.

There you go. Italian Non-Verbals 101. We have been shocked to see how the kids effortlessly look exactly like the Italians we know when communicating with these daily gestures. Just like they sound native-Italian when they speak. Cody and I make our attempts. . .

Italian Birthdays

I took these pictures on my phone, so sorry they aren't the best quality.

Last month we were invited to another slew of birthday parties. While at one of them, I was profoundly struck by how vital birthday parties have been in our ministry here, and how I'm convinced they are one of the main venues God will use in the future to allow us to share the love of Jesus with those He's put in our lives.

Birthday parties are huge here. There are 25 kids in Hannah's class at school, and last year, I think we were invited to almost 20 birthday parties. And when you have a birthday party, you invite EVERYONE. We could not possibly keep up. But it was after the first birthday party we attended that we began to see the walls crumble in relationships with parents at Hannah's school. It was also at that party that we met our dear friends Fabio and Alyssia. This year, as we've ventured forth even more, we see more and more doors opening for deeper relationships with a group we'll be with for the next four years.

This was a party held at a bowling alley. Honestly, it was just like walking into any bowling alley in American (AMF pins and everything!). Hannah shared a lane with 9 other kids. In case you're wondering, it took 2 1/2 hours for them to finish one game!

There is really no American paradigm for the community parents have here. Every morning we see each other as we walk our kids to school, and every afternoon we hang out and visit, as we wait for school to be dismissed. Hannah will be with the same students (and thus, us with the same parents) until she graduates from elementary school at the end of Fifth grade. And then there are the 20+ opportunities to hang out at birthday parties during the year.

Birthday cakes are a little different here, but this one was really good. Kind of a cross between a cake and cookie.

At this particular birthday party, God allowed compassion to sweep over my heart. I looked around at all these parents who are just like me--battling the same stresses and anxieties all parents battle. I was overwhelmed with thankfulness that the Lord had brought us to this place and allowed our lives to cross with these parents who have already become quite dear to us. I want so much to share with them the Hope that is within me.

The kids always sing Happy Birthday in Italian and English, no matter whose birthday they are celebrating.

If God brings them to mind, pray for this precious group of people God is connecting us with. Pray for their families. Pray God would use us significantly in their lives to communicate the very love of Jesus Christ. You can also pray for our own birthday party plans! Since Hannah's birthday is over a holiday, we are waiting until February to throw our first birthday party. We feel a lot of pressure! Pray it would be another opportunity to communicate our commitment to these parents and their kids.

The Chocolate Festival

Another bonus post! :)

While I was away (see the next post about My Happy Place), there was a huge chocolate festival held in Bologna. So on Saturday morning, Cody loaded up all three kids and went to see what it was all about. I thought that was an incredibly brave thing to do!

Among other things, they ate (drank?) liquid chocolate out of ice cream cones and sampled a few of their favorite chocolate designs. They really do look incredible. They got a camera for me (of course!), and then picked up a few other antique pieces. They were so impressive I had to take a picture.

The Parent Meeting at School

I wish I had some pictures of this event! But alas, that would have been obnoxious.

Last week was a parent meeting at Hannah's school. All of the parents came for a meeting led by her teachers (she has three), where they discuss the curriculum for the year, field trips they have planned and any issues they have concern about. Oh, and we elect a parent representative, who is then the go-between, between the parents and teachers.

So though we all know each other (Hannah stays with the same students and teachers throughout all five years of elementary school), the election of our parent representative had to follow strict protocol. Even though there was only one person who wanted the job, we each had to fill out a ballot, put all our identification information on it (i.e. our passport information) and put it in the voting box. Very official.

Last year I attended this meeting, but since we'd only been in the country one month, I quite frankly didn't understand a word that was said. This year, I understood a lot more. We did talk about the changes to their teaching style this year, but the majority of our time we talked about. . . you guessed it, food! Were the kids eating all their lunch? Were they eating their veggies too? Are they picky? Do they eat too fast? Can my child bring a toothbrush to use after lunch?

You know, sometimes it's been easy to look at the centrality of food in this culture and roll my eyes a bit (OK, a lot). But I confess that perhaps I'm becoming converted. Food is the venue for relationships. It is a great example of how Italians love to give their opinion. Food is common ground.

I knew this was changing in our lives when I suddenly became picky about the type of pasta I bought (only sun-dried--it allows sauce to cling better), when I began to discern what type of sauce goes on what shape of pasta (for instance, meat sauce is better on long pastas like spaghetti or linguine and pesto is great on farfalle but not penne), and when Cody suddenly decided we could no longer use Grana Padana to top our pastas with, only Reggiano Parmigiano. Yep, we're Italian foodies now.

So getting back to the parent meeting, we again have to thank God for just how incredibly He answered so many prayers for Hannah and her school situation. We think her teachers are great. They think Hannah is great. Hannah, in less than one year, is fully fluent in the language. Italians can not tell she is not a native speaker. Praise God! School has also proven to be our best venue for developing relationships in which to share the gospel. The parents are a pretty close group, since we're all together for the next five years. We're so thankful for the in-roads God's provided.

As I left this meeting, I thought, "Wow, what a normal thing to do." Granted, we probably wouldn't spend near the amount of time we did talking about food at a meeting in America, but we wouldn't have had a meeting like this in America. I love the community-based culture of Italy. And we're fully participating in it. God shows me daily just how much He has done in the past 13 months.