This is ultimately a book about self-discovery. In our all-too-hectic lives, it is easy to get caught up in dealing with the mundane and not realize what we're taking for granted. How are the systems around us - the people, the organizations, the food, the language - actually a part of our very fabric and what happens when all that changes. There's a lot in here about resilience, but it's really more about adaptability and willingness to open your mind to something new. We also have three kids and struggle to make sure they make it to their myriad set of activities - I can imagine the challenges of moving within the country, perhaps to get a new job or to be closer to family, but the idea of picking up school-age children and putting them in a situation with an unknown language and culture seems daunting. And yet, the Damianis did just that. You leave the book feeling that this family is indeed a part of your own and the nostalgia of a friend you haven't met in some time, and both the triumphs and despairs become a part of you.
I received an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review, so I have had some time to really reflect on it. I love the blog/diary approach and the author really has a way of painting the sights, the sounds and the smells with words. Most books that I like, I just plow through, but this one is more akin to a long walk in the woods with new surprises at every turn – you don’t want to rush through it too quickly or you’ll miss something, and the destination is less the point than the walk itself. It also has another interesting quality – knowing that it is about a year in Italy meant that as the days (in the book) progressed, I knew how close I was to the end. You always know you’re close to the end of a book, of course, but I felt like I wanted to continue savoring the stories and actually had a bit of a reluctance to see it come to a close.
There are so many little vignettes that I feel like I will carry away with me. Don't want to give any spoilers, but there is a particularly poignant moment when the author has a sudden realization how it must feel to be a foreigner in the U.S. - to be completely loquacious in your mother tongue and yet to be constantly fumbling in another language, imposing barriers upon yourself and hesitating to take yet another risk. I also absolutely loved the discussions about the elderly and the special needs children in Spello and how they are integrated into the community. The Italian systems are far from perfect, but they clearly have figured out how to draw the inclusiveness circle more broadly than we have in the U.S.
And then there is the food. I haven't mentioned it yet only because I wasn't sure if I would make it to any other topic once I got to the food. But the incredible imagery with which the culinary delights are brought to life are absolutely drool-worthy. I literally would get hungry while reading, and I love that there are so many actual recipes thrown in (haven't tried them yet, but can't wait to give it a shot!).
An excellent journey showing incredible courage to take a step into a new world. Brava, indeed.