Easter Eggs and Illnesses

I've been meaning to post for a while but have been dragging my heels, probably because not much noteworthy stuff has been going on. Perhaps most memorable is the fact that I succumbed to a very bad case of the flu, which involved a first semi-collapse followed by another attack of fever, chills, nausea (and other pretty things) etc a week later. I hit 104 degrees for the first time in my adult life! Below is my collection of medicine, which grew gradually over the two and a half week span of the sickness.



I was lucky enough to find a variety of very caring nursemaids (or whatever would be the male version of the word - nursemen!) who applied cold compresses, carried computers for me, bought me crackers and generally helped me out. I especially needed assistance navigating the world of Italian pharmacies. It's difficult when you don't know the names of any of the drugs! Italian pharmacies are especially interesting (for me) because pharmacists can make diagnoses like a doctor would in the States (and it's an open secret that they can also give out prescription meds, but don't tell). Anyway, I know have a full flu-related pharmacy at my house. Luckily, I'm better!

I have a theory that my illness came from a trip to Switzerland that I made with one of my coworkers, to attend a tourism trade show. We both got sick directly afterwards, maybe from the stress of the many immigration checks we were subjected to on the train. Here I am on the train, before my passport was scanned repeatedly.



It may be worth noting that Francesca (my coworker) and I were the only people whose passports were checked in our entire train car. Why, we cannot imagine.

This is Lugano. It's pretty! I wish I'd seen more of it. Instead, I was able to appreciate the various culture shocks of not being in Italy. Here are a few: plentiful chicken entrees on restaurant menus, tea served at breakfast, no bidet, and clean sidewalks.



Otherwise life proceeds normally. I spent most of Easter in bed with the flu, but here are the huge chocolate Easter eggs that people normally consume here. Ours are only half finished! You can see how big they are by comparing them to the candle to the left, in the photo. Thanks to Tiziano for mine - inside there's always a little gift. I am now the proud owner of a cell phone carrier with a little strap attached.



My work stress is not diminished. But through the craziness, I think that my coworkers have somehow bonded, which isn't such a terrible thing. (One of them is getting married this summer, which is hugely exciting! And it'll be my first time at an Italian wedding!!) So all is not lost.

Ginevra, Ginevra

I'm writing this blog entry with a single objective: I cannot gush over the events of Sunday, March 9, as much as I want to - if I did, it would be impossible to read this! So I'm going to do my best. Unfortunately this may not be the final entry on this topic; between all of us choir members there are about a million photos of the evening, in total, that I'm waiting to see.

On Sunday, my choir sang in a concert with an Italian folk musician, Ginevra di Marco, and her band. We performed at a church near the Ponte Vecchio in Florence, on a very gray day. In fact, we started the day at 8:30 am, singing at a church in a town called Fiesole outside Florence. This is the landscape around Fiesole, which is beautiful.



From the courtyard of the church, we could see a foggy view of Florence with its bell towers and red roofs. It's much less industrial than Bologna, and with all Tuscan green hills and trees it almost seemed like a postcard. If only it hadn't been so gray.



After Fiesole, we headed to Florence to prepare for the big event. First, some background on Ginevra. She's somewhere in her mid-thirties and is a semi-famous singer who for many years sang with left-leaning music groups from central/northern Italy. By left-leaning, I mean communist, or almost. In a good way. (Sample lyrics from one of their songs: I sing war, and I know I'm not in good company/I sing peace, which isn't a profession, or an ideology/I sing liberty, difficult and never given, must always be defended/always regained.)

Anyway, nowadays Ginevra tours Italy with her band (which includes her hubby, who's the musical director). She sings folk songs from Italy (in a gazillion dialects) as well as songs in Spanish, Greek, Romanian, and other languages. And we were invited to sing on her tour because my conductor's cousin knows someone who knows someone, etc etc. We rehearsed four of her songs with her and she sang two of our songs with us. Somehow she managed to learn our songs perfectly after a single listen. I guess it's her job, but even so.

Here's my conductor walking to the church in the rain, with his little podium. Luckily, when we got there, the technical team supplied him with the priest's pulpit (I believe that the church is no longer sacred) and he was all set.



The streets near the church were full of signs for the concert.



We proceeded to rehearse for a few hours, and were reminded once again of the fact that Ginevra is AMAZING. Her voice is out of this world, and she and her band are all super welcoming and open and willing to share the spotlight. They really enjoyed playing with us and on the spot decided that we'd sing a seventh song together. She, her husband, the drummer and the guitarist all speak in wonderfully thick Tuscan accents (which for me are the hardest to follow).

Here are some of my choir buddies. On edge and ready to go!



Here's the church 20 minutes before the concert started. It was totally packed and they had to start adding extra chairs. I know it's a cliche, but it really did feel as if the air was buzzing. We were super excited; to put things in perspective, we are a folk music choir, so this was like singing with a number one celebrity!



And of course the concert itself was just wonderful. Someone once described Ginevra as "becoming" her voice when she sings, as if her voice is so beautiful that it eclipses her as a human being. It actually happens! And we had a great time singing along (at some points, especially for a Neapolitan fighting song, we were yelling). We ended the two hour concert exhausted and happy. Not as exhausted as Ginevra's kids, though, who were sleeping in the front row as their parents danced around onstage.

Now for the best moment: my friend Michele, who knows all too well of my crazed-fan-love for Ginevra, has been promising me a photo with her for weeks. I was too nervous to go up to her by myself so he dragged me over after the concert was over. The star of the show was all too happy to take a photo with us, even though I was so star-struck that I stuck Michele between the two of us. (I REGRET IT NOW!) I am only disappointed that I take up more of the photo than she does! Ginevra, why are you hiding behind Michele and your flowers?! (In retrospect I can see that I did not manage to conceal the fact that I was utterly giddy - it's apparent on my face!)



After the photo, she gave me a hearty Italian embrace and told me to email her the photo. So, please excuse me - I have to compose my email now, or at least faint while doing so.

(Here is an interview with my conductor and the amazing Ginevra herself, along with her hubby. If you speak Italian, it's very sweet. And even if you don't speak Italian!)

(And HERE is a video of the concert itself. It's long and may not be as fascinating as I present it to be, but the singing starts around 4 and a half minutes and I swear it's beautiful. And part two is here.)