What I learned in Florence

Since arriving back home I have gotten the anticipated questions like “how was the food/wine,” and “did you have a good trip?”  Um, duh!  The food was amazing and HELL YEAH we had a good time.  I know people are trying to be polite, but we learned so much and have so much more to tell you about than just the food and the wine.  We learned the BIG stuff that everyone learns when they go to Florence, like all about the Medici family and the famous artists whose works they commissioned.  We learned quirky things about Italians and their way of life – see blogs on mankinis, smoking, and driving.  But, what I really value from the experience is what I learned about myself. 

I learned to be proud of the fact that I am an adventurous person.  I love talking to people who can’t believe that I would take two small children to a foreign country whose language I don’t speak for a month.  I always say that a smile and an ability to play charades/Pictionary will get you far in a foreign country.  Plus, we all know that I could have a blast in a cardboard box as long as I was with the right people.  And I had the luxury of being with three of my favorite people for some, or all, of the trip!  

I learned it is okay for the kids to know that I don’t have all of the answers.  There can be a lot of anxiety in the unknown when traveling – not knowing where you are going, not knowing what you are ordering/eating, and not knowing what is going to happen next.  Kids like expectations and take comfort in knowing that an adult is in control and they are protected.  While I always took care to make sure the kids were protected and safe, I felt it was important for them to understand that I couldn’t always give them an expectation for what was going to happen.  It was a great lesson for all of us to work on just rolling with the punches.  Our lives are so controlled and scheduled when we are home, it was just so freeing to go with the flow, embrace the moment, and try new and unknown things.  

The most important lesson that I learned was that I can be patient.  I am not typically known for my patience.  I usually want things done my way and NOW (or even better, done yesterday).  I am what you would call a queen bee – I see everything, I like to know everything, and I like to be the unofficial police for the “stupid people.”  You do something stupid, I am going to call you out.  This personality trait is undoubtedly what will drive Tom over the edge someday, but I know that it is what he admires about me too.  I definitely believe that my lack of patience is also tied to my desire to get stuff done – I am a typical type-A doer.  I was the girl that most people wanted as a partner for a group project in school – I would take on the hardest tasks so they would get done, I would pick up the slack of others and I would generally make sure the project was all nicely tied together with a big, pretty bow on top.  But, sometimes these personality traits work against you, like when a situation calls for patience.

Being in Florence allowed me to embrace the duck I didn’t know existed within me.  I truly, for the first time in my life, learned how to just let things roll off my back.  I learned to set my personal bubble a lot smaller – in a city, even one as small as Florence, I would have been completely overwhelmed if I tried to concern myself with anything outside of a one block range.  Because the safety and well-being of my kids had to come first in this foreign setting, I had to lay off the “look out for all the little guys/underdogs/etc.” and just focus on my people.  And, ultimately, I had to just let go of my control freak tendency and enjoy the moment in which I found myself.  As travelers, we often rush from one thing to the next, checking off tasks or sights as we go.  I noticed that short-term travelers in Florence (those staying for only a few days) were constantly running from one place to another, wheelie bag in tow, trying to see it all/do it all and not really enjoying the moment and what was before them.  Having limited our basic activity to one major thing per day, I found myself having to stretch our day’s activities out a little.  This allowed all the time in the world for the kids to linger on an activity they loved and further explore something they found interesting and for me to just take joy in their happiness.  

The final thing that I learned was how our journey has touched the lives of so many.  I get tickled pink when someone tells me that our trip has reignited their desire to travel and more fully experience life.  I also love getting all of the messages from folks who have traveled to Florence and express their joy in seeing it again through our eyes.  I also appreciate every person who patiently listens to me, Bella, or Scarlett talking on and on and on about some aspect of our trip.  Your kindness in letting us have our moment to personally share our experiences with you is much appreciated. 

Arms and Armor

Of course the first thing Scarlett noticed about the suits of armor was that some had a metal "cup."  She is very in tune with the nether regions of statuary since arriving in Florence.  Today we had our last "adventure day" and went to the Stibbert Museum which houses a huge collection of arms and armor.  This isn't a real "traditional" Florentine museum, but by all of the reviews I had read it is a kid favorite.  

Frederick Stibbert had inherited his wealth from his grandfather, who was the Governor of Bengal under the rule of the East India Company.  Stibbert was a worldly man and grew up blending a fascination with the Far East and a love for his home town of Florence.  The museum houses arms and armor from Europe, Japan, and the Middle East.  Stibbert's home, which houses the collection, was decorated in classic Florentine opulence.  Stibbert had so much f-you money that the walls of many rooms were "wallpapered" with thick painted leather panels that had been hand-sewn together.  Many other rooms and ceilings were adorned with traditional frescos.

Stibbert was clearly a womanizing mama's boy.  Isn't it odd how womanizers usually hold their mother in high regard?  I had inquired about whether Stibbert had been married because I was curious as to why he left his fortune (home and contents) to the city of Florence.  The curator of the museum chuckled to herself and answered that "Mr. Stibbert liked to collect women too.  Never married and no children."  But, the house had many ornately decorated rooms that were for use by his mother, who lived with him.  She was also prominently featured in many works of art throughout the house, as were Stibberts two sisters.    

But, back to the armor.  The first thing I noticed was how petite the men who wore the suits of armor must have been - in girth and in stature.  They were not nearly as big as they look in all of those Scooby Doo episodes.  I guess I shouldn't assume that full grown men were wearing them, as boys as young as seven were put into the military during that time.  The museum had two full suits of armor for "kids."  Scarlett was stunned that boys who would have been in her school class would have been in the military.  Speaking of little men, the museum even housed the robe and pants that Napoleon wore for his coronation as King of Italy.  That dude was small!  I think the favorite room of Bella and me was the one in which you could try on pieces of armor.  The helmet was wild.  It was so incredibly heavy, in and of itself, I can't imagine how heavy a full suit would have been (and how hot it would have been).  The other surprising thing about the helmet was how well you could hear with it on - maybe I need to get myself one of those in lieu of a hearing aid.   

The other really interesting part of the museum was that it houses suits of armor for horses as well.  The horses used in battle must have been incredibly strong to have carried the weight of the rider in a suit of armor and the additional weight of its own armor.  It was fascinating to see the different degrees to which people covered (or didn't cover) their horses in armor.  Scarlett and I agreed that our horses would have the most extensive coverage, which would have to include cage-like armor over the eyes that made the horses look like they had fly eyes.

While the Stibbert Museum isn't a traditional Florentine museum with marble sculptures and religious paintings on the walls, it was a site to be seen.  It was a great way to cap off our adventures in Italy.  

Miracles

Urns containing the remains of people who have passed don't freak me out in the least.  We have our very own tower of cremation boxes from six dogs and one cat in our basement at home.  But, Scarlett and I were totally freaked out by the reliquaries of various saints that we saw at the Medici Chapel of the Basilica of San Lorenzo this morning.  Now, I had no idea what a reliquary was until today.  It is a decorative case or container (think mini coffin) that holds bones or clothing scraps of someone, usually someone of significance.  

The reliquaries we saw today were mostly of saints of the Catholic Church and were designed like ornate glass eggs between six and twelve inches tall.  They usually contained a bone or bone fragment, but one included a petrified finger.  Fortunately, the finger was in an odd rigamortus induced position as opposed to the "oh no you didn't" position.  I could just imagine that saint's finger waving at me in judgment.  I would have grabbed the kids and run for the exit!

I was totally curious about why one would carry around the remains of saints in a glass egg.  Apparently the saints were believed to still perform miracles from the dead, so their remains were toted around for people to revere.  I am not sure where the rest of these saints' bodies are buried or if the various churches just divvied up their bodies and put them in the glass eggs.  They must have had Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci carving up the saints for the glass eggs.

Speaking of miracles, sometimes it takes a miracle to find a particular address here in Florence.  Addresses are in both blue and red numbers, and they don't integrate with each other sequentially (but they do keep odd numbers on one side of the road and even numbers on the other side).  In fact, 7-red could be blocks away from 8-blue.  The blue numbers traditionally designate residential locations and merely the number is used in the written address.  However, the red numbers traditionally designate businesses and the number plus the letter "r" is used in a written address.  Another nuance that took a little getting used to is that the address is slightly shuffled around from how Americans read an address.  In Italian, the street name comes first, followed by the house or business number.  So, our address in Florence is Via Borgo San Frediano, 37. Thank goodness for my phone and its gps software (and the kids' gps brains)!

Hold your ground

The past month I have spent a lot of time telling the girls to hold their ground.  A city landscape is a great place to practice this life lesson.  I think "holding your ground" is increasingly important for all women to learn, but particularly young ladies.  Bella is just about the age where girls turn into shrinking violets - growing increasingly weary of being seen and heard.  The best gift I can give my girls is self-confidence and a feeling of self-worth.

For me, self-confidence starts with occupying space and holding your ground.  I am not suggesting that the girls should be rude or disrespectful to others.  Merely, that they should feel comfortable being present, respected, and acknowledged by their peers and by adults.  There was an interesting study recently released that showed strong body posture and the amount of space you occupy greatly affects your self-image and likelihood of success.  

So, as we walk down the narrow sidewalks of Florence I am constantly reminding the girls to hold their ground.  Clearly, it is safer for an adult to step off of the sidewalk and into the street if the sidewalk is not wide enough for two people to pass.  But, to achieve this the girls have had to learn to take the inside path, keep their shoulders back, and their head up.  In short, they have had to learn to claim space.  

They got to really practice claiming space and holding their ground the other night at the fireworks for St. John's day.  Tens of thousands of residents and visitors cram the bridges over the Arno River to take in the beauty of the fireworks display.  We were fortunate enough to get to the bridge by our flat early enough for a front row spot!  As people started to roll in, the jockeying for position began.  Bella is a natural at claiming space, a real chip off the old block.  But, it was a great learning experience for Scarlett to not get pushed around.  I told her that she should stand with her feet apart and lean against the wall of the bridge.  The biggest obstacle was the mosquitos who were eating us alive.  The girls were able to maintain their first rate view of the fireworks display with little help from me.

 This evening proved to be a test of Bella's ability to hold her ground.  After a day of lounging, we headed off to the park to play a little soccer.  The park has two enclosures where kids and young adults tend to play soccer - they are more like clay tennis courts than a soccer pitch as we know it.  Let me preface this all by saying that Bella is the ONLY girl that I have seen playing soccer at the park in the past month (Bella claims to have seen one other girl but she was very young).  The boys don't quite know what to do with Bella and she doesn't yet have the confidence to both cross the language barrier AND ask to play with 10-12 boys her age.  

So, this evening I was on one half of the big field with Bells practicing her shooting and a  gang of boys was playing soccer on the other half of the field.  I had to remind her at the beginning to just hold her ground and let them stay on the other half of the field - there is enough park there for everyone and she should not feel intimidated and leave what she is doing.  Girl was in the zone and getting off some really powerful shots on goal.  The most skilled boy was definitely watching Bella - I am not sure if he was sizing up her soccer abilities or just surprised to see a girl on the field.  Scarlett was standing around looking all dejected so I decided I should go play on the monkey bars with her.  A few minutes later, I turned around to check on Bells and wasn't she in the middle of the soccer game keeping those boys at bay.  Turns out the really skilled boy had asked her to join his team!  There was a few other boys on the team that she recognized from other nights in the park.  My girl was feeling good to have been asked to be included in the boys' soccer game.  

As we tackle simple things like navigating a sidewalk or the awkward stages of being a tween, the girls are learning to be present and be seen.  They are also learning to respect themselves and demand respect from others.  Watch out world, these girls are learning to hold their ground. 

Ancient selfie or photo bomb?

During the time when many of the Renaissance sculptures were created, mythological tales and passages from the scriptures were a favorite source of inspiration.  But, often a patron just wanted to memorialize himself or a loved one.  These sculptures were like the modern day "selfie."  The artist always made sure to capture the patron from his or her best side and sometimes even embellished the piece to make the patron look significantly better - an ancient version of photoshop.

Today we returned to the Boboli Gardens to cover some ground that we didn't have the opportunity to see during our last visit.  There were two sites in particular that we wanted to observe - Fontana del Bacchino and Grotto del Buontalenti.  While the grotto was stunning, it houses mostly replicas and we had seen the originals at other museums.  But, the Fontana del Bacchino is so odd and vastly different from other statues made during the same general time period that we all loved it.

The Bacchino makes one chuckle when you understand the context for its creation.  The statue was done for the most famous of the Medici family and is supposedly a very realistic representation of their court jester (Braccio di Bartolo).  While the concept of a court jester (especially one that is a little person) seems demeaning to us, it was the reality of the time and these court members were often some of the most beloved.  From the sculpture, is it clear that Braccio was well loved by the Medici and quite a character.  

For starters, Braccio is depicted as Bacchus, the god of the wine harvest.  One can only assume that Braccio liked to drink and was the life of the party.  Bacchus is also known to represent sexuality and a dropping of inhibitions.  So, it is also probably safe to assume that Braccio was also a hit with the ladies.  It is clear that Braccio was a lover and not a fighter as he is sculpted with his one arm extended in front of him (i.e. the Heisman hand).  This is presumably a nod to a Roman statue of Marcus Aurelius, a Roman emperor, who was known to represent peace and friendship.  

The third and final symbol to indicate that Braccio was well loved by the Medici family is that he is depicted riding on a tortoise.  Now, this also adds to the comedy of the piece as you imagine this poor tortoise ambling along with a fat, little dude on his back.  But, the tortoise is another symbol of the Medici family - usually shown as a tortoise with a sail on its back.  The tortoise with a sail  was supposed to represent the Medici motto of festina lente, meaning "more haste, less speed."  Now, I absolutely fell in love with this motto when I first heard it.  It is interpreted to mean that a person should work with a proper balance of urgency and diligence so as to avoid making mistakes but to achieve the long-term goal.  The motto is also interpreted to mean that work should be done in a state of flow in which you are fully engaged in the work and does not realize the passing of time.  

The Bacchino is a refreshing snapshot of a well loved friend of the Medici family - a nice break from the traditional religious and mythological figures.  While it may not be a "selfie" in the purest sense, it may be more of a well captured ancient photo-bomb.  I guess that is what one should expect from the court jester.

Parade taunting and a crowd baptism

Today is St. John's Day in Florence, where the patron saint of the city (John the Baptist) is celebrated on what is believed to be his birthday.  While some would think that celebration of such a religious figure would equate to a more solemn holiday, they would be sadly mistaken.  As Siena has the Palio, Florence has Calcio Storico - the part rugby, part MMA, and part soccer game.  The girls and I attended one of the preliminary games last weekend, and you can read about those adventures in the blog history.  Today was supposed to be the finals of the round robin tournament and our neighborhood team was supposed to be in the game.  So, there is a simmering excitement in our part of town.

After linner, we ventured out to watch the pomp and circumstance of the gigantic parade through town that precedes the "football" game.  Part of the parade includes the procession of the four "football" teams.  As our new rivals, the Azzurri of Santa Croce, were passing in front of us I discovered that Scarlett is a taunter.  She was saying things such as "boo blue" and something about them "going down."  As if I didn't love this kid enough already, but to discover that she has her mom's big mouth.  How unexpected!  I was a little concerned that one of these gigantic thugs on the Azzurri was going to speak English and have supersonic hearing.  

After the parade ended, we decided that the sky looked a little ominous so we headed back to our flat.  We were barely in the door and had the "football" pre-game on tv when the heavens opened up and the crowd baptism began at the stadium.  Now, it is a little ironic to have a drenching downpour on a day that celebrates the father of the christian baptism.  

Now the crazy rain with accompanying lightening created quite the stir at the "pitch," if that is what you call it in Calcio Storico.  There was much to do about whether the game should be started or canceled.  Every time I would see lightening out the window, I would glance at the tv to see men dressed in historical suits of armor or holding ancient weaponry.  I kept hoping that one of them would not become a lightening rod!  Ultimately someone came to their senses and canceled the game.  But because we don't speak Italian we have no idea what the commentators were saying and whether the game is rescheduled (and when).  I have to make sure that we make it to the next parade so that Scarlett can taunt the opposing team.

linner, linner - this one was NOT a winner

Today we had a major Trip Advisor fail.  Now, Trip Advisor wasn't the only one to let us down.  A few locals and acquaintances  who had previously traveled to Florence were in on this let down too.  We ventured away from our favorite local trattoria and tried one of those "have to go there" places.  To put it mildly, it was a major disappointment.

Now, I am generally a gal who doesn't mind trying a new restaurant.  But at home, we always seem to be in such a rush to just get dinner into the kids that we don't have time to get creative.  Just go where you know and everyone can get something they like.  Our go to restaurants are Chipotle, Neato Burrito, and Pizza Grille.  

As you have heard me say before, in Florence there isn't food variety.  There is tuscan food and there is tuscan food.  Fortunately, we like tuscan food!  But, the longer we are here the more you kind of want to mix things up.  We are frankly only eating one major meal a day (linner), so we try to make it as much of an experience as eating a meal can be.  In my anal retentive fashion, I made a list by major landmark of the eateries that people have recommended.  If we are out and about, I check in with the list and we try to hit somewhere new.  

The place we ate today has been on our list for a while.  Virtually everyone recommends it and Trip Advisor has given it good reviews.  When we arrived, I thought we might be in trouble because it is an extremely large restaurant by Florentine standards.  Restaurants are notoriously small in Florence.  But, it doesn't matter how busy the restaurant is the proprietor makes you feel like you are welcome to stay as long as you would like.  There is no such thing as bringing you your check; you usually have to flag someone down and beg for the check.  From the size of this restaurant I knew that our service would not be good and we were definitely at a tourist trap. 

After waiting for about ten minutes in two different locations without anyone in front of us to be seated, I virtually slide tackled a waiter and ask him how we get a table.  He was kind enough and showed us to a nice quiet space.  When we sat down, I finally had a chance to really look around and noticed that the decor was about as odd as you can get.  There were wine bottles and pictures of famous patrons lining the walls - that seemed pretty normal.  However, there were also really creepy, well played with dolls sitting on shelves all over the place.  I swear I caught a Monchhichi staring at me from the corner of my eye.  I don't really love dolls, particularly ones that have been well loved by little kids.  There is always an eye that doesn't fully open/close or the hair has been lovingly trimmed to the scalp.  These dolls fell into this category.  I swear I was looking for the Chucky doll and had I seen it I would have run for the door.

The next sign that the restaurant was going to be a bust was the size, or lack there of, of my glass of chianti.  The house chianti has generally been fabulous.  And, the pour is usually very generous.  When my glass arrived, I almost spit out my water frizzante and laughed at the waiter.  It was so small I thought they were going to serve it to Bella!  I would have guessed that there is a law against serving such a paltry glass of wine to a thirsty patron in Florence.  

The straw that broke the camel's back was my undercooked risotto.  I love risotto and I have apparently found my go to dish in Florence with mushroom risotto.  Mushroom risotto is like the (veggie) burger and fries of Central PA.  Seriously, every restaurant has it on its menu.  I understand that making good risotto is a labor of love - with all of the slowly adding more stock and all of that stirring.  But, I haven't had a bad risotto until today.  The rice was so undercooked that I thought I might crack a tooth on it - then the tooth fairy would have had the pleasure of visiting all three of the Zarcone girls during our stay.

But, I guess we can't complain too loudly.  We are in Florence . . . for a month.  So, tomorrow I won't get creative and we will just head back to the places we know and love for our linner!