The other day I paid a visit to a lovely city called Florence, a city I have always loved.  I needed a little trip outside of Perugia, and I needed some time with American girlfriends.

I bought purple gloves, stood in front of the Duomo eating ice cream, had a great aperitivo with Georgette and friends, and stayed with the lovely Katie.  Saturday I had the first half of the day to myself to walk around the city and I later met up with Katie and Laura, who I’ve been wanting to meet for years, for lunch.  Spending all that time with other girls who are making their dreams come true was really a spirit lifter for me.  It reminded me of what I have accomplished, and it reminded me how nice friendship is.

Florence is beautiful and it was a lovely reunion (I giggled and said to her “You’re so beautiful” more than once during this visit), but I fear that she has some competition from Rome in my heart for #1 major Italian city.  I enjoy knowing that I live a train ride from either city.  And that reminds me: as the train from Florence got into Umbria and closer to Perugia, I felt so at home.  As I embraced my dear tango friends, it became even more apparent to me.  I’m glad and grateful.

While my days are filled with excitement and anticipation for many things, they are also touched by grief.  Someone I have looked up to and respected for at least the past 15 years has passed away.  He was Sean Goff, the brother-in-law of my long time best friend and the husband of an amazing woman who I long ago adopted as a sister.

Together, Sean and Sofia opened a beautiful restaurant in West Seattle, Cafe Revò.  Inspired by my friends’ ancestral town in northern Italy, the food bears the mark of a talented chef (that would be Sean) who loves the beautiful ingredients that the Pacific NW has to offer.

One of the cute things about Cafe Revò is that at the end of your meal, you get a lovely little card.  On one side is the trademark babe on a Vespa that you can see painted on the side of the restaurant, while on the other side is a proverb in both Italian and English.

Last night as I was getting ready for bed and worrying about everything in life, I moved my purse and picked up some clothes to put away.   Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something that had fallen out of my purse.  I ignored it at first but had a nagging feeling I should see what it was.

There, on the floor, was a little card from Cafe Revò with the Vespa babe smiling up at me.  I thought of Sean and picked up the card to see what the proverb was.  It said, “God gives us chestnuts, but he doesn’t crack them for us.”

I smiled and decided that perhaps it was Sean’s way of giving me a little message of his own.  That I have all of these gifts but it’s my job to use them.  And if I use them, great things will happen.   I closed my eyes and remembered the last time I saw him, in the beautiful restaurant that he and Sofia created, and smiled.

Rest in peace, Sean.  I know you will live on through your beautiful children and Cafe Revò.

I’ve been in Seattle a while now… busy…. trying to tie up some loose ends, spending time with people I know (so many of whom I still haven’t seen), dancing tango, drumming up students, translating and trying to get new work for that.  I’m also starting to experience some “culture shock” – amazing that it took me a good three or four months before I noticed any of it.

It’s not a complaint, just an observation, though I do have strong opinions.  One cultural difference I’ve noticed lately is the food culture.  In the U.S., this is definitely a culture of large portion sizes and snacking.  There really is an obesity epidemic (of course this can be tied to a lot of causes and I’m no expert, so can’t get into it here).  I don’t remember really seeing much obesity in Argentina, apart from a few rare occasions.  I’m not exactly the picture of self-restraint when it comes to eating (oh do I love to eat), but when out in public, I’ve noticed that the average person eats probably three times more than I do (and I eat plenty), and most of the time it’s food for which I could not begin to identify the ingredients.

It took me a while to notice that, because my circle of friends here is a rather international mix of Tango dancers and foodies, who relish in choosing good ingredients, cooking with love, and surrounding themselves with friends with whom they can share their creations.  That, and Seattle is a goldmine of beautiful ingredients for cooking.  It’s a great place for picking up healthy habits and being creative with food.

But recently I was on a cross-country trip because of my uncle’s wedding (which I’ll write about later, it was a wonderful trip to Rhode Island), and on the airplane as well as in the connecting airport I noticed some eating habits that surprised me.  Is it really necessary to down a cheeseburger (and fries) at 6 in the morning?  Do we really have to gorge on all the artificial snacks on the flight and then have a big lunch at the connecting airport, only to gorge on more snacks on the connecting flight?  At the connecting airport I saw random people at my gate and other gates, loading themselves with piles and piles of faux food and telling each other “we’d better eat all of this so we’re not hungry when we land”.  The thing is, these people were waiting for flights lasting not more than two hours.  Couldn’t they wait and eat real food at their destination when they actually *were* hungry?

People can do whatever they want and I won’t judge, but this just isn’t healthy for the human body and can cause medical problems further down the line.

The other thing I’ve noticed here is that it’s really hard to get together with people.  Me included.  When I’m in Argentina or Italy I’m much easier to get a hold of.  And so is everyone around me.  It’s very much a culture where people make plans with little notice, from “Hey, do you want to have coffee tomorrow?” to “I’m having an asado tonight, wanna come?”. – These are people with lives, jobs, families, worries.  Yet they somehow make time to see each other.

In the States, people say things to each other like “Sure, I’d love to get together. I’m available in three months.”  – This really happens!  People are so “busy”.  And I’ll admit, it’s hard not to fall into the pattern.  I almost get that way too when I’m here.  I try really hard not to, though.

The people I know from Tango seem to be an exception – they’re all pretty spontaneous and passionate about life (it’s true!) and I see them frequently because it’s not too hard to bring these folks together – particularly when beautiful tango music is guaranteed to at least be playing in the background.

I have a hard time in general making plans too far in advance (especially three months).  Due to the ever-changing nature of my work and also due to my dancing, the best way to see me is to ask me what I’m doing in the next few days to a week.  If I make plans too far in advance I end up canceling them because something always comes up.  And I’ll admit that I’m just terrible lately – there are friends who have been trying to track me down to get together, and I’m just all over the place.  I’m not perfect at all in this regard.  But there really is a cultural difference when it comes to making plans.

Those are the two main things I’ve been thinking about lately.  I could get into other differences I’ve noticed, but I’ll save that for another time.  Right now I have a translation and would like to write about my trip to Rhode Island in my next post.  Also, Tango Magic (Seattle’s tango festival) is coming up!!

I’m not always good at showing/telling my friends how important they are to me.  But I love them deeply and unconditionally and I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like if they hadn’t entered into it.   How else would I have gotten through school, divorce (yes, divorce about 7 years ago), major life decisions, happy milestones, love, Italy, Argentina, life.

I only hope that I have given them what they have given me.

If I have not done so, or if I’ve ever screwed up, then I ask each of them for forgiveness right now, and I shall strive to do better.  I promise.

Here’s James Taylor singing a nice little tune about friendship.  I really like his voice.

Katie and I met when we were living in Italy, she in Firenze and I in Perugia. During a visit to my town, we went to a milonga, where she realized that Tango would be something rather nice to have in her life. Now that she’s back in the States, she has decided to commit to it. -It helps that she “accidentally” bought a pair of Tango shoes (fate, perhaps?)… Keep an eye out for possible updates on her blog (which focuses on Italy)… she’s a real gem. Katie, welcome to the world of Tango.

Katie (in white) and I (other chica), starting our day in Piazza della Repubblica, a Firenze