Shaken, not Stirred

Friday I went to Verona. It was mostly a bunch of people visiting Juliet's house from Shakespeare's play. I still don't understand what the big deal is about some immaginary person's pretend house, but okay cool.

The next day I went to Montagnana, a tiny little city about an hour outside of Padova, more or less on the other side of the Euganei hills. Cool thing is that it's surrounded by a huge wall built in the middle ages.

I promise I'll upload pictures. Sometime.

By then I was really tired and ate leftovers with my host mom, who will henceforth be called Nonna, which is Italian for grandma. Then we watched James Bond: Goldeneye. She laughed through all the explosions and killings, but also at the sex scenes. She also makes comments like, "Che tigre!" (what a tiger) and, "È come la tua ragazza?" (is she like your girlfriend?).

She also likes saying English words. Like "striptease."

Anyway, she's like my favorite.

Watching TV is really hard. Most of the films are dubbed, and anything actually in Italian uses a lot of idiomatic expressions and hand motions, like everybody else here. It takes a lot of practice, but I'm starting to follow things really well, even if I understand very little.

So after James Bond (or, as the Italians say, "James Bon-duh") she tried to explain what a martini "ascolata, non miscolata" meant. I never have it in my heart to tell her I already know. I think she likes talking, anyway, and it's good for my comprehension.

The wine here is abundant. Alcohol costs as much as water, so it's like with every meal/social event.

As Nonna would say, "No martini, no party."