While the boys slept I read in the kitchen nook. It was a book a previous guest had left at the apartment and it was awful. "Elements of Style" by Wendy Wasserstein. Some chick-lit crap which would be appealing to someone who appreciated "Sex & The City" and things on that order. No thanks. But it was available and I found myself turning page after page, if only for the horror of discovering that this was the “entertainment” some people find interesting. Ugh.
I snuck out of the apartment shortly before eight without waking the boys, so I could get over to Giudecca and go to church. You are probably wondering why is she going to Mass when Mamma isn't there? Thank you for asking. Purely for selfish reasons – I needed to meet up with Mamma's church lady friends to see who might be still offering a place for me to stay. There had been four ladies offering up places to me last year; some were private locations, some were rooms in their houses. Signora Ferri had told me yesterday that the heating man said he didn't know what the problem was with the heat, but she advised me not to stay there while it was cold. She reiterated that doesn't want me getting sick. I could always just stay in a hotel and the company would pay for it, but long-term in a hotel is not my scene and I'd rather pocket the per diem than spend it on a hotel. I just needed to send out my feelers and see what, if anything, was available to me so I could make plans for the next month.
I was met with smiles and cheek kisses from the ladies, asking me if I had heard from Mamma in Bologna. They had already heard from Signora Ferri about the problem with the heat and two of them asked me if I wanted to stay with them. News travels fast with the Posse of Church Ladies. One was a private place, so that would be my first choice. I told Signora Vallota I would like to talk to her about it after Mass. I was invited to sit in the pew with them and inwardly I cracked up, thinking “I'm in with the in crowd now.” I spied Marco coming in and taking a seat in a pew across the aisle and a few rows back so I waved him over. He moved seats, kissed the ladies hello and sat behind us. After services we all stood outside talking and Signora Vallota told me her son could meet me at the building in Dorsoduro to show me the studio apartment this morning. It needed some cleaning and there was some excess furniture they were currently storing in the place but I was welcome to use it. They had another space to temporarily move the extra furniture to. Whatever I needed to make it comfortable. Marco said he could come with me to see it, if it was okay. He mentioned he hadn't seen her son in a long time. She called her son on the mobile phone and said we would be right over. Marcello would meet Marco and I at the San Basilio vaporetto stop in 20 minutes.
For not sleeping all night I was holding up pretty well, although at this point I needed to just power through until Jullion and Igor left to catch their train at three. A double espresso was on my agenda ASAP. Maybe a few of those.
Marcello met us at the vap stop and exchanged pleasantries with Marco in Venetian dialect. They know each other from around town and their mothers are tight friends but they aren't friends themselves. Marco is probably seven or eight years older so they weren't friends in school or as altar boys or anything like that. This is a small town though, so they definitely know each other from passing in the street even if their mothers didn't see each other daily at church. Marcello spoke in English to me that his mother insisted that the family do whatever needs to be done to make the little apartment comfortable for me. “You are an important guest for my mother. She thinks the world of you.” Aww.
Well it was pretty perfect for my needs and it there wasn't much cleaning to be done at all. He told me he would bring down some pots and pans from his place (“Don't worry, we have so much things in the kitchen it will not be missed”) and a television set that he could hook into his satellite upstairs, plus bed linens, towels, etc. for me to use. He checked the hot water heater that it was turned on, insisted that the heat was working gave me a key. Presto! I have a new place to move to. So it looked as if my sleep would be delayed further after Jullion and Igor left. I needed to throw my things in the suitcases and grab my groceries. Easy peasy.
I asked Marco if he wanted to come back with me to the apartment. We were going to get something to eat before the guys took off. He said ok, and he would help me transport my things after. He didn't need to work until evening. But I warned him... he would be around a gay couple. Laughter from him. “Okay, just no sex on our first date, ok.” Wow – Mr. Enlightened. I called Jullion and warned him to get decent, we would be there in a half hour.
We ate the Chinese restaurant around the corner. It was a very interesting dynamic. I speak English, Italian, Spanish and a little Portuguese. Marco speaks Italian, English, and French. Igor speaks only Italian. But Jullion takes the cake - he speaks English, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Mandarin. He joked with the waitstaff, ordered in Chinese, translated all the characters on the decorative objects in the place and entertained us all with stories of his spring & summer in Beijing. He is such a quick study in language; he's fluent now in Italian and has learned it all since September. Like me, the transition from Spanish facilitated the speedy learning curve. “I'm just a poor gay black boy from the slums of Delaware and here I am holding court with you all!” I love this kid.
We finished up and went back to the apartment and the boys took off after much hugging and kissing. I am invited to come down to Bologna and stay anytime. Jullion said he owes me so much he couldn't begin to repay me for kindnesses. It was his trip last year that confirmed he needed to apply for the program in Bologna. “You made it real easy to fall in love with Italy. Listening to you talk about the history and the cultural differences and the crazy bureaucracies here – I said I have to check this place out in depth.”
They took off and I went next door to the freezing apartment and tossed my clothes into the suitcase. I instructed Marco to put everything in the kitchen pantry and refrigerator in my grocery bags. I pulled all the linens off the beds and put them and the towels in the washing machine and called Carlo to say I was leaving the key on the kitchen table. We were out of there in about 20 minutes. My energy was really starting to drag. We got to the apartment in San Basilio and Marco bid me adieu. Marcello had brought the tv, the kitchen items and linens, made the bed for me (aww!) and taken away the coverings from the furniture and the extra endtables and chairs that weren't needed.
After putting things away I was a little keyed up again with adrenaline. I knew I needed sleep but if I went to bed at four in the afternoon I would undoubtedly just wake up at midnight. I consulted the yoga schedule and decided I would go to a session. Twice in a week – that's huge for me. The studio is two minutes away from the apartment in San Basilio. Afterward I would be home before the sweat had time to dry.
And I slept like a rock until six in the morning. Glorious sleep.
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