"Livin' on a Prayer!"

Here's the newest and latest from Sarah. In this installment, she continues to serve in Trieste with her new companion, Sorella McMurray.

7/15/15

Sorella McMurray

Sorella McMurray is so great. I've lucked out on companions so far. She is going into her 8th transfer so she is two groups ahead of me. She is from Ohio but her family now lives near Logan, Utah. She is seriously just so sweet and nice and I can already tell that we are going to get along just fine. I'm really relieved actually. I don't think I'm that hard of a person to get along with, but I'm always worried about new comps cause...you kind of just have to get along with them. And that's a little stressful. But yeah, I love her already :) I really hope I get to spend two transfers with her. Also she served with Sorella Bowman [former neighbor] down in Modena for two transfers so that is cool.

English Class

So after "pday" last week, we had English class and the only person who came was Manchin who is about a 50 year old Chinese woman who is learning English so she can write books about feng shui. Anyway, we were working with her and she asked if she could work on pronunciation with us. So we opened the bible and started reading the chapter heading of Romans one: "The gospel is the power of God unto salvation through Jesus Christ--The wrath of God rests on those guilty of murder, homosexual practices, fornication, and other sins if the guilty do not repent." I don't know why we chose that chapter heading but by the time we were helping her pronounce "homosexual" and "fornication" it was a little hard to keep a straight face. We were also helping her pronounce some other word that I can't remember but she kept saying "s word" over and over again as she was trying to form her mouth to say whatever word it was. Eventually she was just like "s word" and we were like "yup, perfect, you've got it" Anyway, those were exciting parts of Tuesday.

Mara

We had another lesson with our lovely Mara this week. She is so excited for her baptism. It is reminding me of Margherita. We came in and immediately she asked us what beautiful lesson we were going to tell her. We said we were going to talk a little more about baptism and confirmation and how it's done and why it is important. She got almost giddy and said, "I think I'm more excited for my baptism than I was for my wedding!" She is such a sweet heart. And she is really pretty amazing too. She hasn't had the easiest life. She had to kick her companion out a couple months ago because he was getting pretty deep into drugs, she has a hard time finding work because of her sickness (I don't really know what it is, but her sometimes her muscles just freeze up and she can't move), she doesn't have very much money and as a result doesn't have gas for cooking or hot water right now, and a bunch of other things but she always always has a smile on her face. It is incredible. Seriously. She is probably the happiest person I've ever met. Even when she talks about the fact that she hasn't had a hot shower in a while, she just laughs and smiles and then says, "va bene va bene". Oh! Also! It is so so cool because she has actually crossed paths with Mormon missionaries several times. As a child, her mom let them into their house and that is where she first saw the Book of Mormon, then about twenty years later she saw them again and got a BoM for herself, then about twenty years after that they stopped her on the street, and then about ten years after that, our sisters here talked to her on the bus. She was busy for a while, but then her companion left and she had a bunch of time and now we are teaching her and it is pretty cool. She shared a really cool testimony of how God has been preparing her for a while to meet us and to finally be ready to accept us. She was making fun of herself, "How many times will it take, Mara?!" I just love her.

Patrizia

We are still working with Patrizia, but with her the process is very slow. She understands what we are saying in the lesson but then it is really hard for her to remember all the things we've taught her. This is overwhelming for her and it reinforces the idea that she has to know everything perfectly before agreeing to baptism. But she'll get there. Even if it isn't for a couple years. It is really cute. She has been reading for about two months and she is about in 1 Nephi 18. She always shows us how far she is in the Book of Mormon, what progression she has made and holds up all the pages she has read and shakes her hand and says, "Già ho letto tantissimo! Che grand pezzo! E solo due mesi!" "I've already read so much! Look at this big chunk! And in only two months!" She's tots adorbs. And it is really impressive that she reads as much as she does. With the little education she has (She only went through elementary school. She can read, but she can't write.) I'm really so proud of the effort she puts into reading the scriptures. It was really cute, on Sunday during sacrament meeting, she leaned over to me and said, "I'm so glad you found me. This is my salvation." She held up the LdM to her face and kissed it. I almost started crying. She's so brava.

Gianna

So another funny story from this week. We were about to sit down to eat lunch when got a referral from the anziani and so we called her really fast to try to set something up and she was like, "No no no! I can only see you right now! You have to come now!" So we threw everything in the fridge really fast and got her address and headed over. And it was almost two hours later that we got home. She was this little old lady, Gianna, who LOVED to talk and she had actually had the lessons from the missionaries before and she told us all about them ;). Her house was kind of crazy. She had newspaper clippings and magazine pictures glued up on the walls. And she actually had dozens of leaves also glued up to the walls. A little strange, but, whatever floats your boat I guess. It was another one of those moments when I was sitting there thinking about all the finding we could be doing instead and then I remembered Nelli. And how she talked and talked. And then I thought about when the last time would've been that she would've had guests over for tea (We ended up drinking two big cups of tea. Like, half peach herbal tea, and half straight up green tea. Oops.) and it probably hadn't been for a while. And she needed to talk and get it all out. So I sat there trying to remind myself that numbers don't matter. And after I decided that this was where I needed to be, I just relished it. All of her stories, all of her, "ti mostrerò dopo" "I'll show you later", and every time Slla McMurray or I sneezed (we've both been a little sick recently) she would look at us like we were dying and say, "colpa dell'aria?!" "Is it the air?!" and then run around closing windows and asking us if we wanted a scarf. Hahaha, it's July. Italians....

Something About Oceans and Ciabatta

Later that night we had a lesson with a new convert who is from the south, but up north right now for military training. She contacted us and we decided to get gelato and then have the lesson on the pier in front of Piazza Unità. It rained recently, so the night wasn't too hot and there was a slight breeze. The warm sun was setting and I dunno, something about oceans makes every sunset spectacular. Anyways we were sitting there with our legs dangling over the edge of the pier and the sea was slapping up against the stone and cool little foaming dots of water jumped to our legs as we talked in soft Italian. I'm so grateful that even on hard days the world will still be constantly and achingly beautiful.

So this is super random, but for lunch yesterday we got some fresh ciabatta bread and ate it with oil and vinegar and parmigiano e Asiago cut off the block. And drank coke. And listened to some Rach. It was one of those moments that I know I'll miss in ten months when I'm home.

7/22/15

Woman from Peru

This week a pretty cool thing happened. There we were, just looking at bus times and waiting for our bus when this lady was like "There is a Mormon church here?" Anyway, from there we talked, found out that she is a member, got her number, and we invited her to come to church on Sunday. She didn't end up coming but we called her and are trying to get something set up. She is really busy though. She is from Peru and a single mom with a five year old boy and she works just about every day all day. But we are going to keep trying obviously. Man, I miss Peruvians. South Americans are so great.

Sorella McMurray

Sorella McMurray is amazing. I don't think I've told you a ton about her yet, but her family is military so she has lived all over the place. She left from Ohio but her family now lives in Logan Utah. She is two transfers ahead of me and will be going home in January. She has a big family, eight kids, two parents. She is suuuuuper sweet, but also she has got a fantastic personality. She is so nonjudgmental, she is so wise, but she is also hilarious. I was telling her a little about how sometimes I feel a bit like a bad Mormon and she was telling me that God makes each of our spirits a certain way and he knows how they will react to things here on earth. She was role playing me and God in heaven "God, uh, ya sure you wanna send me down there like this?" "Uh yeah, I'm God, of course I'm sure." "Oookay." Then she was giving me options of how and what I was, "Well, you have a body, so I'm, like, pretty sure you aren't a child of Satan... You were sent down here at this time....which is significant. I need to think about this more. But anyway, you're not a child from hell, you’re not a--well you are a sinner. Everyone is a sinner. I was about to say you aren't a sinner, but I just thought, that is not politically correct, and we are all about being political correct now aren't we."   She has become a true friend and sister to me. I've grown so close to her so quickly. I so much hope that I will be able to do two or even three with her here in Trieste. Gah. I just love her.

YSA Activity

So another fun thing that happened this week was that there was a huge multi stake (aka all of north Italy) YSA activity here at Trieste last weekend. There were probably thirty or so people who were all about our age and there were a few non members that were invited by friends so we were invited too. But we had stuff to do for the activity part (some sort of huge scavenger hunt) but there was a big BBQ that we went to. We had to leave before they actually started eating but it was SO NICE to just hang out with people our age and just talk about normal things. Slla McMurray and I were talking on the walk home about how much we missed parties. Mostly we hang out with older people who only want to talk about their grandchildren. Which is fine. But I really really miss people my own age. So those two hours where I was able to just unwind a little were super good. And we got a referral to send down to Reggio Emilia. :)

Doing Casa

This week we did a lot of pass bys of people on this huge ward list. They wanted us to update it with people's numbers and addresses and stuff and then try to invite the less active ones to come back. So we were just trudging around and knocking on people's doors and then doing casa in the rest of the palazzo. At this one palazzo we were ringing on all the doors and no one was answering or interested and then we got to the top floor and knocked on one door. Nothing. Then we turned to the other door and this one was wide open and there was this African guy who was lying on his back on a mattress with his shirt off just chillin. I think my comp was a little antsy to get going cause of the abnormal situation, but he looked nice. And I mean heck, it was so hot, I wanted to take my shirt off too. Anyway I asked him if he had ever heard of the church and he said he had. We talked to him for a bit, all three of us unglamorously dripping in sweat, and he ended up being super nice. We got his number and told him our brother missionaries would call him. Probably nothing will come of it, but....I dunno. That story is a bit more realistic of what missionary work is really like than the other stories I usually write in my letters and the stories you hear in sacrament meeting.

Patrizia

So a cute story from this week, we were going to Patrizia's house for a lesson and she wasn't home the first and second times we rang her doorbell. So we went finding around her house for a bit and then went back to try one last time before heading home and just as we were about to turn around and go home after ringing the third time, I hear, "CHRISTENSEEEEEN CHRISTENSEN CHRISTENSEN!!!!!!" I turn around and there is little Patrizia running as fast as her little legs could carry her from the bus stop where she had just arrived. :) I loved it. I love it when people know my actual name and not just "Sorella missionaria." Anyway, that made my day. And then she gave me these really clunky shoes that she had bought for me. They are super ugly and I LOVE them. It is really hot outside and they are really cheap black plastic and I will die if I wear them but I'm going to wear them to all our lessons cause dai, it is so cute that she got me shoes. And a skirt, she gave me a skirt too. She is so giving and loving and cute. I just love her. Anyway. It's moments like that that I'm really truly glad I'm on a mission. It is kind of hard to love being a missionary when it is 40* C, sunny, humid, and hard, but it is relatively easy when it is 40*C, sunny, humid, and Patrizia is yelling your name and running to you from down the street.

Buckets of Food

Another fun thing from this week, we went to FHE at the church this Monday and it was us and three other older women in the ward. We walked in and they were like, we are going to have dinner tonight! And I was like, sweet, I'm starving. They went into the kitchen and brought back three huge buckets (literally they were buckets). Two with cold pasta salad and one filled with rice and tuna. We started eating and I was so hungry that I was kind of shoveling and not thinking... My mistake. About halfway through my first big plate someone said, "This tastes kind of funny..." When they said that I stopped eating and my stomach dropped. I somehow knew instinctively that this wasn't going to turn out well. One of the old ladies was like, "Well, yeah, the rice has been sitting out since yesterday lunch when the GANS [YSA] had it for lunch. And that pasta has been sitting out too, cause there wasn't room in the fridge." She was pointing to the bucket I was eating out of. Dang it. I was wondering why it was warm. But I'm used to just eating whatever it is without questioning. I remember turning to Sorella McMurray who was eating the warm tuna rice and we looked at each other and were both thinking, "This might be a long night." What I don't understand is how this lady is afraid of colpa dell'aria but she is not afraid of 24 hour warm pasta (the church is 33*C) (that is gross) and mayo and rice and tuna. Like what. Aren't you 70? Aren't you supposed to know this stuff? Yeesh. Whatever. She is a sweetheart. Just an absentminded sweetheart. We ended up throwing it all out. After eating half of all that skanky rice and pasta. Anyway, we both felt a little sick but we had to stay and give the FHE lesson and it turned out to be REALLY long cause three old Italian woman friends talking about something they are passionate about. Normally I wouldn't have minded at all, but seeing as I just wanted to throw up at the end of it… We missed our bus but one of the ladies drove us home and as soon as we got home we both collapsed on our beds. Poor Slla McMurray had the warm tuna. Mine was just warm pasta and mayo and veggies. Also bad but not as bad. It was a long night. Neither of us threw up but our stomachs were really hurting all night and a lot of the next day. But we are good now. So yeah, Italy adventures.

A Little Salt Water

Yesterday morning we didn't have anything planned so we went down to Piazza Unità and were talking to people along the way, but as of recently people are just really... It's hot outside so I don't blame them, but finding is basically pointless. But wtvr. We had both been having just a hot rough morning, and, at least for me, the pier is somewhere where I just feel good. So we headed down there. We walked to the end of the pier and there was this little dock thing with steps going down into the sea. We looked at each other and then both took off our shoes, hiked up our skirts just a bit and walked down the steps into the cool salty water. Neither of us were really talking. We were just standing there as the waves came in and out--washing over our feet and ankles and jumping up our legs. It was windy and bright and I just closed my eyes and was quiet for a while. Letting the sea carry me and all that. I've felt more thrilled and excited on my mission. And I've felt happier too. It wasn't really a "measured most" emotion moment. It was more of a super-meta-zen-tranquil emotion moment. I’m pretty sure there is a rule somewhere in Dibb's mind about no sea faring or barefoot enjoyment, but...in the words of Rhett Butler, that morning... And I didn't do it out of spite or rebellion. I just did it cause my soul needed a little salt water.

Family from Holland

After that I felt so much more refreshed physically emotionally and spiritually and was ready to take it on. We were walking past this one family where one was taking a picture of the other three and I asked if they wanted to all be in one picture. So we took a picture for them and then I asked where they were from cause they didn't speak Italian, and they were from Holland. We talked a little about our mission and asked them if they had ever seen missionaries in Holland. The dad was like, "No, you should come!" I told him I had a friend who was in Holland right now serving a mission (That is Tegan's mission, right?) and he was like, "Really?" Anyway, we told them if they ever saw missionaries like us to stop them and talk to them and they were like "OK!" Who knows what will happen but it would be pretty cool if PV8 got that family baptized haha.

7/29/15

We’re Half Way There

“....Ooooohhh, livin’ on a prayer!” ...Sorry, it was too cliché and perfect not to.  Hey-o everyone! It's my half way mark! ~clink~ #9down9togo.

Mara and Patrizia

This week was great. We had a lesson with Mara this week and we brought a member to the lesson and it was such a good lesson. We talked about tithing and fasting and fast offerings and she was like, wow, that will be hard, but I'll do it. She was trying to calculate how much money she would have to pay tithing on since she had met us and we were like, no no it just starts when you actually get baptized. Another really cool thing, so she has dyslexia and it is really hard for her to read the BoM, but she told us this time that even when she can't really read it, she understands everything that is written and she feels like she has read it all before. That is so cool. And then we left the lesson and the member (who I still love, but I'm like grr) was like, "I don't know, Sorelle, she has a lot of problems..." Well duh she has problems. That is why God led her to us. So we can help her. And she didn't stop there. Then she started talking about Patrizia and was like, "She has a lot of mental problems, I don't know how much she actually understands." No one trash talks Patrizia without getting an earful from me. I was like, oh so people need to be perfect before they get baptized now? Did I miss that announcement at general conference? Okay, I didn't say that. But I got on a little soap box for a minute and said that for me the church would always be a place for people to heal and to receive help and to give others the opportunity to heal and help their brothers and sisters. Why do we baptized kids at eight? I don't know. But if that is what our church does, then we shouldn't be denying people baptism because they are too childlike and innocent and maybe don't have the greatest mental capacity. Patrizia's mental and emotional development stopped after elementary school when she was forced to grow up too fast. I just wish members here in Italy wouldn't judge all our investigators just because they were all perfect investigators. That is the other thing. They were NOT perfect. They all had their bumps in the conversion process too. I just wish the members would just have a bit more Christlike love. Do you think Jesus would get out of a lesson with Patrizia and say, "Well, she doesn't really have the capacity to understand what we teach her so let's just never baptize her." A-heck no he wouldn't. Okay I'm done. Just don't be that member.

Sylvia

So remember that Peruvian that we found at the bus stop last week? We had a lesson with her at the church this week and it was amazing. I don't throw around this word lightly anymore but it really was a miracle that we met her. I don't think I told you this in my last email, but the bus stop where she found us wasn't the one we usually go to. But yeah, I do not believe it was a coincidence. God puts his hand out sometimes to direct things the way he wants them to go. So we get to the church and we had a lesson with this member before and asked if she wanted to stay to meet this member from Peru and she said she did. The Italian member, Chiara, was perfect for the lesson. Sylvia, the member from Peru, sees the church for the first time and her face just lights us and she says something about it being like the church in Peru. She hasn't been to church in over 14 years. Ever since she moved here. Then we walk inside and she sees the chapel and she just starts crying. We sang a hymn in Spanish all together (one that is only in the Spanish hymn book) and after signing that in the chapel I think she finally felt at home again. For the first time in 14 years. Anyway, we sat down and started to get to know each other. This woman has a lot of problems with child custody right now and I know I'm not familiar with Italian custody laws but apparently Chiara is. So she was able to help with that which was amazing. And we ended up having a lesson basically on the atonement and how it can help us overcome our trials or at least help us bear them. It was a beautiful lesson and we told her she should start reading the LDM again and start praying again and that she should come to church. (She and Chiara just happen to live on the same street so Chiara brought her to church on Sunday.) She gave the closing prayer in Spanish and I think it was the first time in a while that she has prayed. I didn't understand everything that she said but I understood that she was thanking God for leading us to her that day at the bus stop. That prayer made all this hard, hot, seemingly useless finding worth it. Even though we technically didn't even find her. We were just outside with our tags on.

Cockroach Story, Part 1

Last exciting thing from this week. So we have noticed that with the heat we've had a few more critters lodging with us. They are like cockroaches but softer and easier to squish and they range from the baby size of ants to the terrifying size of fat, long horse pills. To preface this, our kitchen is spick and span. Both Slla McMurray and I hate having dishes in the sink, we have no old food in the fridge or on our shelves, and everything is sealed up. Why then, one might ask, do you have a cockroach infestation?

First, clarification. I would not actually classify it as an infestation. When I was with Slla Hawks I wouldn't have even called it a problem. There were a few that we would see and kill every so often at night in the kitchen. However with Slla McMurray it started to become worse. First, it was just the occasional Skippy scuttling around our sink at night, then it was a few crawling up the wall next to the stove. What started to worry me was when one crawled out of the silverware sorter in our cupboard. We now home our silverware, bowls, cups, and plates in the drying rack where Skippys are less likely to roam). But at least they were contained in the kitchen. AU CONTRAIRE MON FRERE. I started killing some in the shower last week and on the ground in the bathroom. Then, Saturday night, we were just laying there talking, getting ready to turn off the light and go to sleep when I glanced up at the light fixture and saw Skippy, calmly hanging from the light fixture like he owned the place. I was like awww heck no. We got out of bed to kill this guy and I was like, Imma need a chair and something to spray this foo' with. So we got some hairspray (#MacGyver) and were going to walk into the kitchen to grab a chair. That task took a detour when we flipped on a light in the kitchen and saw three medium sized Skippys just lounging around like it was a smoke room. I screamed just a little, turned around, grabbed my flat soled blue loafer (great for cockroach smashing) and killed all three fast as a flash. Then I made a mistake and looked to my left. (BETH: STOP READING. SKIP DOWN.) Down at the end of the kitchen, near our sink and stove, the floor was moving. There was a freaking moshpit of Skippys dancing around like it was some sort of discotecho with an open bar. I don't think I've ever dropped something because of shock and fear. I dropped the loafer and started tearing up. It was terrifying. The image of those thirty or so cockroaches of all different shapes and sizes chaotically walking all over the ground and all over each other is still burned into my mind. I ran out of the kitchen, got Slla McMurray, and she and I put on rain boots (it was necessary...at least psychologically), and went back in, one loafer a piece. As I stepped inside the kitchen trying to mentally come to terms with the massacre that was about to take place, in a weak attempt to hype myself up, I let loose the famous war cry, "Hhhheeeeerrrrrreeee'ssss Johnny!!" Then we went nuts. Smacking the walls, the floor, the sink, in our cupboards, on top of our fridge, spraying hairspray on the ones that were tucked into corners where the loafers couldn't reach. It was actually kind of terrifying to see the rapid dissent of our morals that night. We began being all guru-like. "I respect you, little guy, but this is my house! Sorry Skippy! ~smack~". After a few of those, when they began to run, we became almost blood thirsty. In the thick of the battle we sang, "And another one gone, and another one gone, another one bites the dust!" as we went about our gruesome task. But at the end of the battle, when our enemies were scarce, we were killing without reservation and without hesitation. Almost bored, we would update the other on the statistics of the hunt in a disturbing and dark Legolas-Gimli sort of way "~smack~ thirty fiiiiive ~smack~ thirty siiiiix ~smack~ thirty seeeeeven..." All in all, we killed at least forty. And in only ten minutes. Then we washed the carcasses off the walls, the ground, and my shoes, went back for the one on the light fixture who started it all, put everything away and tried to go to sleep knowing that there were probably still hundreds hiding in the trash room.

Which brings me to the next point. Our kitchen is clean. Our house is cool. Why would any bug want to room with two sister missionaries such as us? Because we have a separate room with our separated garbage bins. That horrid night we could see BIG ones running in and out of the humid trash where we put all the rinds and peels and old food that gets warm and rancid before we take it out on P-day. This room is also closed off from the rest of the house so it is at least twenty degrees warmer in there. And there is a big ol stack of old bags that we are thinking would be perfect place for a little colony of cockroaches to nest. So what is our plan of action? We are going to throw out all that big pile of bags. We are going to take out all the trash. Then we will bomb that room with some sort of ultra-potent Italian poison stuff. (Neither of us have any idea what to buy or where to buy it. Our plan right now is "buy the can with the biggest skull and cross bones on it.” ...Okay, so rereading that, I guess it is not a super solid plan, but hey, that is what you get when you put two amateurs together in a semi infested apartment.) Anyway, we will bomb that room to Timbuktu (while wearing scarves or something, don't worry) and then we will probably spray it all around our apartment too so they don't just migrate to another room. THEN they will all be dead, I will be happy again, and will be able to sleep soundly.

We'll call the office and get approval for our plan but I'm telling you right now, if Slla Dibb tries to tell me all I have to do is clean the apartment better and then do some funky witch-doctor thing like mix mint tea and Cajun spice together and then spray that around the edges of our house... Yeah, no. I'm going with my giant death skull plan.

Cockroach Story, Part 2 (a couple days later)

We bought some spray stuff (it had a pretty good sized skull) and some traps (with depictions of cockroaches with dead "x" eyes and red bellies. Just like I like 'em.) That day, right before lunch we went into the garbage room, threw out all the old bags and boxes as well as all of our trashes. We found quite a few cockroaches in that process. After that, we swept and mopped the floor from the massacre of a few nights before. Looking back, we should've waited for massacre round two. "Massacre round two?! There is more?!" Ohhhh yes there is. So the fun began when we grabbed the death spray. It had one of those tube things from the can so that you can spay edges. Like a WD40 can or whatever. I actually have no idea. But it was a can with a really skinny straw thing instead of a normal spray can. Anyway. We opened the windows and then started spraying the edges of the kitchen. We started with the garbage room and then moved to the oven, sink, and under the table. We were about to call it good and then I was like, hey, we should spray under the fridge. So I grabbed the can, stuck the straw thing under the fridge and sprayed a line under there. We turned around thinking it would kill all the cockroaches immediately or something. Right before we headed out of the kitchen I turned around. Out from under the fridge had crawled dozens of big ol fat daddies. The massacre from last week was mostly medium and small sized Skippys. But all the Brooklyn gang bosses hung out under the fridge I guess. They were fast too. And they DO have wings. We drew a line across the floor with the poison can and stood there watching as more and more cockroaches were crawling out of their now inhabitable fridge sanctuary. We thought, at least they can't cross the line. Haha. They are cockroaches. They do what they freaking want to. Some of them flew over, others just ran really fast. And Slla McMurray and I were waiting for them. There we were, two against forty, bravely wielding our shoes with our shirts over our noses. There were several brave war cries as we smashed big daddy after big daddy. The soles of those shoes were plastered with guts. It was raunchy. We eventually decided to cross the poison line and move into offense. Remember that part in North and South when the Mom is talking about people in Northern England and she is like "Cotton is all they know. They live and breathe it." Yeah. For the past couple weeks the Sorelle in Trieste have only known cockroaches. It is all we live and breathe. The problem hasn't been solved completely yet--we still spray every once in a while, sweep up dead carcasses, and play "how many Skippys can you shoe in 15 seconds." (Slla McMurray is currently the champ of that game with an impressive 14). But rest assured that by the time I leave Trieste, every Skippy from here to Piazza Unità will be "storia antico" (ancient history). Sometimes, while preparing food in the kitchen we'll see a cockroach slink under the stove or wherever and we start manically singing "One way, or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha..." My once soft vegetarian heart has been broken. The sensitivity I have towards insects has dropped about a thousand notches in the past three weeks. Well, at least for these cockroaches.

Half Crazy Italian Women

Last thing really quick is that we had a dinner appointment this week with two elderly women and their friend who we call Aunt Gemma. It seriously felt like something out of a movie. We were eating cold pasta with bread and olive oil in a room that was decorated in the 50s and hadn't been changed since. And these three woman were a hoot. One was super mild and had thick coke bottle glasses and reminded me of Phoebe (sister of Miss Brown) from Emma. Just totally oblivious to anything unpleasant going on. Then there was the other member who was as sassy as a skunk and her friend who literally yelled everything she said. Not cause she was angry, just cause her voice only has one volume, loud. The two friends were mock fighting the whole night. "WHY ARE YOU SERVING PASTA AND BREAD?! WHAT IS THIS STUFF?" "Hey, I have EIGHT more years than you. So you can just sit down, be quiet and eat what you are served." "OKAY THANKS MOM!" It was....like most of the things I write, a lot more funny in the moment. Eh. Anyway, the whole night me and Slla McMurray (who is still AWSOME) were just cracking up, and the sweet old lady kept saying things like, "mmm…What delicious pasta. Do you want more salt on yours? I think I might want more salt on mine.... Yes, it is missing a little salt..." I love half crazy Italian women. But even the half crazy ones cook like no one’s business. Sometimes I forget how tasty all the food I get to eat really is.

Love love, Sarah