I walked a different way to the school today and was kicking myself most of the time. The sidewalks were modernly paved and smoother – no cobblestones. Why didn't I discover this sooner? Florence is always terrible on my feet and ankles; the cobblestones are uneven and very hard on my ankles. I get a lot of trauma from repeatedly hitting the stones. Rome – no problem, Venice - completely flat pavings. The day I leave Florence my lower extremities stop protesting and go back to normal, but until then... oy. No matter how sturdy my shoes are, my feet always balloon up and I look like Jumbo the elephant. The word “cankles” doesn't even begin to describe it. No matter what kind of shoes are on my feet – flats, clogs, sneakers. I see these Florentine woman skipping about in 4-inch heels and I want to trip them. Tra la la... boom!
Shoes I wear on a regular basis become torture devices at these times. At the moment both of my feet have blisters on three toes each: the swelling in my ankles and the tops of my feet have made my toes press up and rub on the sides & tops of my shoes. So I have compression “cortetto” foot bandaids on them all. Isn't this a charming subject? I know how to bring the glamour!
Extreme measures are called for in this situation. I had to break down and buy a pair of shoes if I was going to be able to walk for the next few days. Oh, lucky you, you must be thinking... buying shoes in Florence, the epicenter of shoe fashionistas, the home of almost every major shoe designer on the Italian peninsula... Yeah, try finding a woman's 11, even when your feet aren't swollen up to rhinoceros-sized. I was going to be heading to Arezzo for an afternoon trip with some other students from the Scuola, so I needed to find something during my 30 minute break between sessions. I knew exactly what to do... I went to one of the outlet shops around the corner from the school and bought a pair of man's shoes. They are “driving mocassins” so they are slipper-like but have a rubberized sole, are not blocky, have good support for the arches and the leather feels already broken in. 40Euros. Sold. I am never taking them off.
There were ten of us on the trip to Arezzo, which is an hour's train ride southeast of Florence. Arezzo is known for its contribution to the world of music and for gold - jewelry making. As for the jewelry, there are lots of goldsmiths there. That's the extent of it mattering to me. But for the history of music, it is everything. Long before notes and scales were as we know them now, there was a method of musical notation and singing the European monks utilized in their daily prayers, known as Gregorian. This was before they set them to music in the 90s, we're talking Dark Ages here, from the 600s to the 1000s. Another Benedictine monk, in Arezzo, Guido Monaco (or more widely known as Guido d'Arezzo) created a set of notation on scales we recognize today (the “do, re, mi...” notes, but not the 5-line staff) in 1025. The notation tones' names (do, re, mi, etc) were taken from the first line of a latin hymn, the first syllables of each line in the verse. It was originally “ut, re, mi, fa, so, la” and the “ut” was replaced by “do” in 1600, which was when “si” was added to the scale as well. But, for all you fans of The Sound of Music, Arezzo was where it all began. That will bring us back to Ut Ut Ut... yeah, “do” sounds a little better.
In more modern times, Arezzo was the site for the Oscar-winning film “Life is Beautiful” made by and starring Roberto Begnini. The film takes place in Arezzo, before they are sent off to the concentration camp. There are signs and placards up all over town showing it as a site for a particular scene. The city's theater and two of the main piazzas figure prominently in the movie.
I ended up having a very interesting conversation with my new friend Fraucka as a result of these signs. She doesn't know the film, and being German, I was interested in knowing how the educational system presents the whole topic of WWII and Nazi Germany. It's kind of unavoidable, but how do they treat it? Our discussion started when she asked me what the film was about. I told her “an Italian-Jew is being sent off the camps and he doesn't want his young son to realize the terrible situation they are in. He tells him fantastic stories and uses his imagination to prevent his son from “seeing” the real horrors around them.” She was very straightforward in saying that the German school system is, well, very straightforward about their history. I asked if they teach that Hitler was a madman or about the cruelties he and his SS leaders subjected, and she said they do. It was very interesting but I can't relay every bit of it... suffice to say, the kids know about the atrocities and there is a definite stress on the idea that it should never happen again.
What she did say that struck me is how kind she thought my phrasing was in asking my questions. “Most people are not so thoughtful in how they speak around Germans about Camps and SS. They do not think that I might be embarrassed about my nation's history.” I kept saying “Nazi” and she just refers to them as Germans and said it was okay to call them that because that's who they were. When I disagreed, I told her “Not all Germans were Nazis. It's important to specify it. In my opinion.” She thanked my for my consideration. I said, I understand to a very small degree since I come from a German background. In school I was always a mite embarrassed when we studied WWII and was concerned that kids being stupid kids would place that tag of “your family is German, so you're a Nazi” because kids are stupid kids. At the very least, I didn't have the family German surname. I wonder if my cousins with the surname went through this? But I have always tended to overthink things, even as a child.
Fraucka reminds me a lot of my cousin Alena, and it turns out her younger sister's name is exactly that. Weird coincidences. She is at the school for another three weeks and then her mother is coming down to Florence for a few days. They will drive home to their village, just outside Munich, but stop in Venice for a few days. In checking my calendar, we have it timed right that I am in the city at the same time. While I can't spend all day with them because I'll be working, I can go to dinner with them. This makes me happy. She wants her mother to meet me and I would love to help the out by giving them some pointers on seeing the city in a short amount of time.
On the way from the train station I called La Signora and asked if I could prepare dinner for her tonight, which is my last night there. She said she & her daughter's family had planned to go out for their evening meal, so I said I would be happy to cook for all of them. A non-Florentine or Venetian dinner, of course, but I wanted to thank her for her hospitality. I left out that it took almost the whole time to get her to warm up to me, but we'll just keep that between us. She insisted it would be too much work, I insisted it would not. I make this meal all the time. I would be back by 7 and dinner would be ready by 8. Ok? She still sounded doubtful.
Well, I made that dinner and they were stuffed to the gills. They were pleased and there wasn't a drop left. We drank two bottles of wine, between four adults and a good time was had by all. I even received cheek kisses from La Signora. I did it. I won her over. I never had a doubt.
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