Knowing Our Place

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” ~Martin Buber

I have been reading a collection of essays by Barbara Kingsolver from her book Small Wonders. Kingsolver’s books and essays are some of my most beloved readings and would you believe she has an essay in this book called, “Knowing Our Place”? How fitting is that? Her descriptions of her two homes in the beginning of the essay make my mouth water with desire. I wish I could write like that! She describes things so well that I can smell the vegetables in her garden and I can see the bobcat that looks her in the eyes through her window. Kingsolver says, “Among the greatest of all gifts is to know our place.” I have come to Italy to write about place – physical place, for place, places of the heart, the spirit of place, the people of place, and so on. By looking at a new place, it has helped me make connections and comparisons with my own. It seems stepping away to look at my place from a different perspective helps me to understand it better. At the introduction of Small Wonders, Kingsolver says that many of the essays in this book inhaled and expanded. That’s my wish for my writing while in Italy. I hope to take time to breath, to stop, to inhale it all in; then to remember and to write. I hope what I learn here is something that I can pass on to my students so they understand themselves and their place better. Kingsolver’s essay, “Knowing Our Place” begins, “I have places where all my stories begin.” Throughout my time in Italy, I intend to gather the places where my stories begin as a diving point into my tales. I’ve begun my “deep map” exercise to help me with the process of mapping out places and collecting ideas. I will discuss my “deep map” at a later time….

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” ~Mark Jenkins

My Hotel

This is my hotel...it's wonderful, but it creeps me out every time I have to walk by the serial killer mask store!

Exploring Florence

Today was my first full day in Florence. I have been studying the people and the place for things to write about – I think I make people nervous that I’m always writing things down in my little journal. I have so many stories in my head, but I don’t know where to start. More importantly, I don’t know what to write about or who my audience would be. I have so many collections of journals and writings that I don’t know what to do with, but I’m sure it will come to me one day.

Anyway, back to Florence….I started my day with some time inside Santa Maria del Fiore. The history of this landmark church and dome had my full attention. It baffles me how Brunelleschi could plan such a dome and carry out the structure so long ago. Climbing 400+ steps was worth the view of Florence from above.

After this, I wandered over to the Piazza della Signoria for lunch. Today this is area is lined with cafes and people meandering around the square, but it once was the spot where Savonarola set the famous bonfire of vanities. Thinking about Savonarola my mind turns to a dark, dismal place – the thought of him burning books, paintings, mirrors, musical instruments and so on still curls my lip. I’m glad those days are over here and I was able to enjoy a light lunch outside. Luckily, I was under a large umbrella because it began to rain.

I then strolled over to the Uffizi Gallery to see a great collection of Renaissance art. I was most impressed with the great hall and the thought that the Medici once walked through it. Seeing Botticelli’s Venus was a highlight, as well.

My favorite part of the day was my jog to the train station for my Saturday ticket and then over the Arno River and back. I was dodging people, mopeds, bikes, cars and buses, but it was worth it!

I feel like I must apologize for my lazy writing. It’s not very entertaining or descriptive– just an account of what’s happening. I’m just so tired at night…I’ll have many, many hours of writing time once I begin my workshop. ☺

Ponte Vecchio

Duomo

Meeting Florence

When I arrived in Florence I got settled in my hotel. It’s called Hotel Gioia (pronounced Joy-ya) and is it ever a joy! I am smack in the middle of Piazza del Duomo and Accademia! Since I didn’t have too much time to look around, I just wanted to get my bearings down. I wandered past the Duomo, mouth dropped open the entire time, with my camera snapping. Then I headed towards Ponte Vecchio where the streets are lined with gold – gold jewelry that is – there are so many jewelry shops that I couldn’t believe my eyes! I ate at a lovely restaurant that was right above the Arno River and across from Uffizi Gallery. The view was mesmerizing as it had my complete attention. Later I made some phone calls home and had a rest on the steps of Santa Maria del Fiore, otherwise known as the Duomo which means house, but in this case, the House of God. I feel so blessed to have this experience! “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” ~St. Augustine

My first meal in Italy along the Arno River.

Rebel with a Charge

“There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.” ~Charles Dudley Warner

How is it that I always forget how difficult travel can be after I return from a trip? I suppose the sweat, exhaustion, stink, and difficulties are worth the adventure that lies ahead. The first leg of my trip from Omaha to Chicago went well with little turbulence though there was a storm in Iowa as we flew over it. I have to say that Chicago airport is kind of cool, and it’s clean. As I walked from one concourse the other, I had the pleasure of walking through a multi-colored area that made me feel like I was inside of a crayon box. The neon squiggles on the ceiling and frost colored glass made me feel whimsical. After emerging from the area, I rode next to a man that commented he felt like he had just been to a fun house. I had to agree.

I know the airport is clean because I spent quite some time on the bathroom floor. I wasn’t sick, but charging my computer and cell phone. Can you believe it costs $2.00 to use the “charging station”? Outlets are a hot commodity here and the charging area was full, so I used my head and figured there would be some outlets in the bathroom. I was right. When I started charging, I didn’t realize that there was a cost in the airport. When the cleaning lady came in, I thought I might get in trouble for being in her way, but she just laughed at me and thought I was a rebel for coming in the bathroom to charge. She said, “I think it’s selfish that the airport charges people to power up their things. You just go right ahead.” Later a 20-something girl from New York came in and we chitchatted. She asked me if I was backpacking and I just said yes, so I didn’t have to explain my whole trip to her. Then she told me about this Internet site that people could sign up on to eat in the homes of Italians. She said, “You look the type to do something like that.” After she left I thought, “I am an adventurous, rebel backpacker who takes pictures and writes, or at least these people think so.” When I travel, I can be whoever I want to be. My history does not hop on the plane with me. I believe William Least Heat Moon’s quote sums it up best: “When you’re traveling, you are what you are right there and then.” This intrigues me and makes me think of our writing marathons I like to go on in Nebraska with my fellow writing project friends. We are always told to tell people in the shops, cafes, or restaurants we inhabit while on a marathon, “I am a writer.” On this adventure I’m about to make, I have decided this is what I will tell people.



My flight from Chicago to Frankfurt was uneventful, but I had trouble sleeping. Unfortunately, the plane left Chicago an over hour later than planned, so I missed my connecting flight in Frankfurt by 10 minutes. So I went to rebook my flight. At this point, I was sweaty from running through the airport and exhausted. Of course one of the computers was down, so the wait was longer. When it was finally my turn, the stout woman excused herself to talk on her cell phone, which added to my frustration. When she returned she said there was a 12:30 flight, but she didn’t think I’d make it, so she would put me on the 4:00 flight. I told her I could make it, I had 45 minutes, but she wouldn’t budge. When I went to get my boarding pass from another area, I sweet-talked the lady into getting me onto the 12:30 flight. She did it and told me to hurry. I ran to the x-ray checkpoint, whipped off my belt and jacket, and then unpacked everything. I was then asked to step aside for extra screening and boy to those people like to check you – everywhere! After that, I saw that all my things came through except my computer. I was told they needed to wipe it down for explosives. I wanted to ask, “Seriously?, but bit my tongue. Arriving at my boarding area, I had sweat dripping down my face from running. I felt sorry for the people I would sit next to until I boarded. Have you ever been on a plane next to a person that hogs the arm of the chair? Well, I was next to two! At this point, I wanted to revert to Kindergarten behavior by taking my elbow and jamming it into the man to my right’s arm. I restrained myself, but the man to my left did the old slow motion arm shove – inching my arm off. I thought we would share, but he wanted to hog it, too. So there I sat, arms pinned to my side; my only comfort was that I proved the stout cell phone lady wrong and had gotten myself on this plane. I was on my way to Florence, sweaty, stinky, and exhausted, but I was on my way. This was my moment of delight, my beginning.

Questions:
Who do you want to be on your next vacation?
What has been your favorite beginning to a trip?

Ciao Baby!

I am in preparation to depart for Italy in less than a week! I received a grant from Fund for Teachers www.fundforteachers.org to embark on a journey to Italy for a writer’s workshop. I’m so grateful for this opportunity to visit a country I have always desired to see and to take a weeklong writing class from Linda Lappin. http://www.lindalappin.net/bio.htm The workshop is called “Tapping into the Soul of Place”. Because I fully believe in the Nebraska Writer’s Project’s mission that a true teacher of writing must be a writer herself/himself, I constantly am looking for opportunities to better my own writing skills. http://www.unl.edu/newp/ My hope is to bring back lessons learned at the workshop and ideas about place conscious writing for my students. To learn more about where I’ll be and what I’ll be up to, check out my blog over the next few weeks. I hope to have internet connection while I’m in the small town of Vitorchiano, Italy. In the meantime, you can see for yourself where I’ll be while taking the workshop: http://www.pokkoli.org/

My Little Bubble

This was my original title that my daughter, Julia, came up with. When I explained to her that I am taking a class about place conscious writing and what that meant, she thought I should name it My Little Bubble. She said that sometimes when I am stressed, I come home to "My Little Bubble" where I'm around people who love me and I can relax. After I pondered about what Julia said, I thought that out of all the "places" I claim as spaces that have shaped my identity; I believe My Little Bubble is my most cherished.