INTERVIEW WITH A CREATIVE FRIEND

 Today I would like to introduce you to a very creative friend of mine, Veronica Gilestro:

Veronica, we met while walking our dogs and we got chatting, so I know you like dogs and that you are a yoga teacher. When did you start teaching yoga and is there a connection between dogs and yoga?

I've been teaching yoga for eight years now. My relationship with my dog keeps me in present time and helps me enjoy the moment. This also happens in yoga - you are able to connect with yourself and appreciate the moment.

I now know that you have another talent, too -  making jewellery for your line Risonanze -  and I have some lovely pieces of yours. When did you begin that and how did you learn to do it?

I began making jewellery last year, mainly for enjoyment and I taught myself. It all started with my study of the chakra ("wheels" or "circles"). These are points of energy in our bodies which help us maintain our internal balance. In yoga meditation the use of natural stones echoes the energy of each chakra, for example, red and black are connected to the first chakra, which is the earth. Everything is based on energy and the vibrations connect us with nature and the present moment, aiding the internal balance which is so important for maintaining a peaceful life.

So natural jewellery is for everybody?

It is an instrument of support for yoga but yes, definitely for everybody.

Tell me about the little cards that come with your jewellery.

These explain the chakra connected with the piece of jewellery and the benefits the stone brings to the chakra. The last line of each card is an assertion, inviting you to stop and recite it while holding or wearing my jewellery creation.

You said that your jewellery is for everybody so do you make pieces for men and women?

Yes, and I really like making jewellery for everyone.  I didn't use to wear jewellery often myself, but since I've been making mala bead (meditation) necklaces I've begun to wear some almost every day. 

Do you have to be in a particular frame of mind to create a piece of jewellery?

 I never make a piece of jewellery if I don't feel calm.

What is your favourite colour in a piece of jewellery and what kind of pieces do you make?

Fuchsia and its variations. This colour is connected to the third eye (the eye of perception). I also like light and dark blue together as they connect with the chakra of self-expression. I make bracelets, necklaces and earrings.

Finally, where can people see and buy some of your creations?

At the Sunday market in Modica Bassa (Modica Old Town) which takes place on the second and last Sunday of each month, from 07:00 to 13:00. I like selling my jewellery there as it gives me an opportunity to create a relationship with clients. People can message me on Whatsapp +39 3398745326 to make an appointment to visit my workshop or buy from my website . They can also find me on Instagram or via my email: gilestroveronica@gmail.com

Thank you for talking to me today and for sharing your knowledge and creative ideas, Veronica. See you soon with the dogs!

TRANSLATION TROUBLES

 I have worked as both a translator and an interpreter and I know how hard it is, so my heart went out to Valentina Maiolini-Rothbacher, the interpreter whose session at the White House with Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni and President Trump went horribly wrong last Thursday.

In the clip, we are not shown the whole conversation and we cannot see where exactly the interpreter was or what equipment, if any, she had. However, we can hear the panic in her voice as she struggles to keep up with the conversation and she almost referred to signora Meloni as "president", only just managing to correct the word to "prime minister" in time. (In Italian the prime minister's title is Presidente del Consiglio dei ministri and it does cause confusion to English speakers.) This is not a mistake that one would expect an experienced interpreter to make. It is just after this point that Meloni becomes exasperated and interrupts her, saying, "Faccio io" ("I'll do it"), which she did, and very well. I understand her frustration and the interpreter has since said that the prime minister had been right to interrupt.

But what happened? Ms Maiolini-Rothbacher, distressed the next morning at finding her name splashed all over the Italian press (with the foreign newspapers following suit later) said that she did not know what had happened to her brain but also that the room had been crowded, from which we can infer that there was extraneous noise, which there should not have been. We also do not know how long the conversation had gone on before the interruption or whether the interlocutors had simply not paused  for the interpreter to speak. (Simultaneous translation is particularly difficult and at the UN interpreters alternate every twenty minutes or so, because the pressure of the job is so high.) Or perhaps it was just a poor translation set-up from the beginning.

I understand that Ms Maiolini-Rothbacher's mother tongue is Italian, so why was she interpreting from that language into the target language of English? This is not how interpreters usually work.

Prime Minister Meloni's English is good but that said, very few statesmen or stateswomen are linguists, which may partly explain what is wrong with the world. Reliance on interpreters must be frustrating at times but it is necessary. That, in my opinion, is partly what caused the upset at the White House for President Zelensky, who has excellent English but is not a native speaker and there were matters he could have discussed more tactfully. I have noticed that he has been using interpreters since that incident.

In English in particular, a misplaced tone, a wrong preposition and especially an erroneous stress pattern could be disastrous in an international negotiation or a business or legal situation. Here is an example:

"I'm going to drop nuclear bombs" with stress on "drop" and slight pause before "nuclear" = "I'm going to stop using nuclear bombs."

"I'm going to drop nuclear bombs" with no pause and stress on "bombs" = "I'm going to destroy the world."

I hear your question: "What about AI?" It is my understanding that in the publishing world a non-fiction book can be translated using AI very quickly indeed and copies can be on sale almost simultaneously with the original but I would have doubts regarding the quality of such translations. Fiction, however, is another matter because it depends on tone, style, nuance, imagery and so many other literary techniques. It is also important to be able to convey the author's particular "voice".

There are some horrific examples of AI translations or transcriptions on video clips and in one clip from a 1950s US comedy series (a transcription of English subtitles) a character called Ethel has her name written as "arsehole"because the AI programme is transcribing what it thinks it hears. If you are ever introduced to someone whose name is Ethel and you say, "Hello, Arsehole" I do not think her reply will be very friendly!

Going back to the White House interpreting scene, I hope that Ms Maiolini-Rothbacher is feeling a little better. News moves so fast these days that the world will have forgotten the incident soon. I just wish that more people, particularly those whose job is to set up translation or interpreting situations, understood how demanding this work can be.

A SAD EASTER MONDAY

 In a world that seems to be largely run by oligarchs, charlatans and megalomaniacs there are few leaders who, when they pass, receive genuine praise from other heads of state, heads of government and religious leaders of all political persuasions and faiths. Pope Francis is one who has.

Probably like most of you, I woke up to the news this morning and immediately felt a deep sadness. I am not a Catholic but I feel drawn to that faith; I am not a Protestant but must admit I used to like a good sing-song in a Protestant church now and then; I am not a believer, nor am I a non-believer but I would like to believe.

Why, then, am I saddened by the death of Pope Francis? Because I think he was a force for good in the world and I have found him a relatable figure ever since the evening he was elected Pope and came out onto the famous balcony and said, "Buonasera" to enormous cheers from the crowd. It was so simple yet so appropriate and it felt as if your neighbour was greeting you in the street. 

In January 2020, when our fears of the virus were growing, this agnostic blogger who is leaning towards Catholicism bought, on impulse, a book entitled Preghiera (Prayer), a collection of Pope Francis's thoughts on the matter. In a section called How to Pray, there is a quote from a speech he gave in 2016. He says,

Do not forget to pray. Pray in any way you can, and if you fall asleep in front of the Tabernacle, you will still be blessed. But pray.......Do not lose your closeness to and availability for others, and also, I allow myself to say to you, do not lose your sense of humour. And we will go forward!

A Pope who valued humour could not, and did not, fail to be loved.

BUONA PASQUA 2025

 

 

Easter in Sicily brings the ice cream season and colomba (dove-shaped) cakes. If only the colombe could bring peace to the world! 

Wishing everyone a peaceful Easter.

FESTA DELLA DONNA 2025

 

"Mimosa cake" from the Cicara Caffetteria, Modica. The mimosa is a symbol of IWD in Italy.

I am writing this very late, so I hope everyone is having or has had a very happy International Women's Day.

Here in Italy it was announced yesterday that the Italian government has approved a draft law which will make femicide a crime in itself, instead of being a sub-category of homicide and the sentence will be life imprisonment. The law (which still has to go through Parliament) will also contain sentences for crimes such as stalking, sexual violence and revenge pornography.

This is welcome and it reminded me of something that happened long ago:

"Cathy was married to Jim."

Every year, on this day, I think of  pretty Cathy, "Cathy" being the name that I gave her in my memoir. She was the mother of my last, and most serious, boyfriend in Bristol before my family moved to London. Cathy was one of the nicest and prettiest women I have ever met, yet her husband Jim beat her - every single day. Joey would often arrive home to find his bruised and bloodied mother lying unconscious in the grate.

Everybody in our Bristol neighbourhood knew about it and they were also well aware that Jim kept a mistress. Whether he abused this woman too I have no idea, nor did I know who she was, though she was probably someone I saw most days either in shops or in the street.

My dad, along with other men who lived nearby, couldn't understand why Joey, tall, strong and eighteen years old at the time, didn't just "sort his father out" physically but I knew that the answer was that, if he had, Joey would have arrived home to find his mother not unconscious in the grate, but dead.

Cathy tried to leave several times but no one was going to give a woman who had left her husband and had three other children much younger than Joey a job or let her rent a flat and the police largely ignored domestic violence.

At the time, newspapers even ran cartoons in which such violence was depicted as funny and it would take until 1971, when a woman called Erin Pizzey set up the first Women's Refuge in Chiswick, London, for the problem to be recognised. Other refuges sprang up all over the country and the women could go to them with their children to be safe from the men who had promised to love them but were now threatening their lives. The Domestic Violence and Matrimonial Proceedings Act of 1976 was the first piece of legislation to begin to deal with the problem and other legislation followed. Coercive control did not become a crime in England and Wales until 2015.

After we left Bristol and my relationship with Joey had ended, I heard that Cathy and Jim had been reconciled and that Jim was ignoring his mistress when he saw her in the street. I do not think that this state of affairs lasted, as in 2020, quite by chance, I came across a death notice for Cathy. The part about family said only, "Cathy was married to Jim." There was no adjectival phrase, such as "much-loved Jim" or "her devoted Jim" - just "Jim".

But you, pretty Cathy, will never be "just Cathy" to the now elderly woman who was nearly your daughter-in-law and I cried when I saw your photo that day, over half a century after the time when I knew you. I cried for you and all the women like you, all over the world, even today.

No woman should be afraid outside her home.

No woman should be afraid to go home.

No woman should be afraid in her home.

 

Happy St David's Day

I hope everyone who is celebrating manages to enjoy St David's Day despite the fear and gloom caused by the events of the past 24 hours. Let's think daffodils and song!

Here is a poem that I wrote for St David's Day last year:

Cwtch

Apart from Welshcakes, song and vales,
What is it that I miss from Wales?
To see the dragon flying high
and daffodils in March - oh, my!
Then that accent and cadence,
(I hear it now and tears commence.)
Dull grey mornings, Cardiff rain,
No rain like it - don't complain!
But when my life is in a muddle,
a "cwtch" - that is, a warm, Welsh cuddle.


© Pat M. Eggleton, 2024.

AMID THE MADNESS

The world appears to have gone mad, so let us pause and gaze upon something that takes time, patience and art - from the Cicara Caffetteria in Modica:

I also marked my birthday at the Cicara last week and was presented with a lovely, miniature cheesecake dessert:

A seventy-fifth birthday is a landmark of sorts and the occasion set me thinking about how different it was from my seventieth, just before the first Covid lockdown in Italy. In my memoir, I began my chapter on that period in this way:

Two days before my seventieth birthday in February I sat in my local bar celebrating with friends. It was to be three long, miserable, terrifying months before I would see friends or sit in a bar again. Within days, all of Italy was in lockdown.

In abnormal times, we long for the "normal", even the mundane, so what can we do? I now feel neither young nor brave enough to weather the social media backlash and pile-ons that publicly expressing all my thoughts on world events would entail, though I am working on my lack of courage. I would, however, call out prejudice and unfairness when I see them in my own environment. Other than that, I can take pleasure in the day to day small things in life, I can thank those who provide them and I can be kind. That, I think, is a beginning.

BUON NATALE 2024

 Merry Christmas from Bertie and me!

j

A FAVOURITE FOOD FOR A FAVOURITE SAINT

Our estate di San Martino (Saint Martin's summer) has been well and truly over since Sunday and I sit here writing this on a cold, rainy afternoon. A prolonged summer is named for the saint because, according to legend, in the winter of the year 335 St Martin of Tours met a freezing, starving beggar at the gates of Amiens. He cut his cloak in two and gave half to the man and, coming across another man in a similar condition moments later, gave the other half to him. It is said that the sun came out when he gave away the second half of the cloak - hence l'estate di San Martino.

Frittelle (deep-fried pastries or doughnuts)) are traditional on St Martin's Day (11th November) not only because they are small and symbolise pieces of the cloak, but also because they contain few ingredients and centuries ago could be made by rich and poor alike. They can be fried using the new oil from the olive harvest and are often served with the vino novello which is traditionally opened on this day.

St Martin is associated with the poor and is the protector of soldiers, innkeepers, hoteliers and beggars. He died in Candes, now Candes-Saint-Martin, in 397. He is one of my favourite saints so I really wanted to find some frittelle yesterday and I did, in my local fruit shop. 

DONA NOBIS PACEM 2024 - HOLD THE LIGHT

 

At times like these, when peace seems to be further away than ever, it can be very hard to write about it. Yet this is the time when it is most important to do so, to "hold the light", because we have to show that peace is possible, peace is desirable and that peace is essential, even and especially when we are being confronted with horrific images of war in our time every day and evening of our lives.

My generation, the "luckiest ever", some say, saw our first live images of combat and its effects during the dreadful conflict that was the Vietnam War and no one could say, from that period on, that they "didn't know" about it. Even at the time of the Kennedy assassinations, we had not been able to receive live reporting on them in Britain and most people there had not even gathered around a television set before the Coronation of Elizabeth II. The danger, once we were able to see those live images of horrifying events, was that we would lose our capacity to be shocked, become inured to it all. I don't think that most of my generation did, because from us sprang numerous peace movements; we wrote about peace, we studied peace, we campaigned for peace and we sang about peace.

What, then, can we do almost half a century after the fall of Saigon and all the conflicts in between, as we watch, day after day, shocking scenes of a population who are constantly being told to move on but have nowhere to go? A population with no adequate sanitation or access to healthcare, a population that is starving. No one is suggesting that the event that gave rise to all this was not also terrible, but when faced with human cruelty, do we also have to lose our humanity? 

We can protest, we can become part of a peace movement such as this and those of us who live in democracies can convey our concerns to those in power. In countries like the UK, where citizens have direct access to their elected representatives, we can write or speak to them and make our feelings known. Do you think they will not care? I assure you, they will care when they want your vote - which brings me to the matter we are all probably pondering, which is that so much will depend on what happens in the US tomorrow. Those of us in other countries can only hope that there will be light.

Light breaks where no sun shines, wrote the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas. And to "hold the light" we have first to see it, so we must not look away from the harrowing scenes on our many devices or from the possibilities for doing something about them. We have to unite in peace, for peace and for the light.

With thanks as always to the wonderful, indefatigable Mimi Lenox, who continues to inspire us to blog for peace.

BlogBlast4Peace on X.

NO TRICKS, BUT MANY TREATS

 Halloween is celebrated, mainly for the benefit of children, more than it used to be here (even when I came in 2005) but less than in countries like Britain and the USA. In my experience, the evening remains peaceful and I haven't seen flour and eggs thrown in the street or been disturbed by trick or treaters that I don't know. Long may it continue in this way - a festival which people enjoy without wasting food in a world in which, particularly this year, there are people starving, and without upsetting others.

On the jolly side, I couldn't resist buying some treats from the Liolà  pasticceria in Modica:

Today is Ognissanti, All Saints' Day, and is a bank holiday. Tomorrow is I Morti, or Day of the Dead, when many people visit the graves of their loved ones and even take food. I think this is a healthy attitude to death, which after all comes to us all, and teaches children that it is part of life. 

I think it's time for tea and one of those biscuits now. 

WORLD PASTA DAY!

It's World Pasta Day and here is a photo of a wonderful dish of risotto (I know it's not officially pasta but it counts as a pasta course) which I was served in my local bar, the Cicara Caffetteria, last week - risotto with pumpkin and crispy guanciale. I loved the presentation of this dish:

The second dish I want to show you is my own pasta with pumpkin sauce. It also contains the juice and grated rind of a Sicilian orange and saffron. It's a dish I can make very quickly and quite joyously so it has become my go-to pasta dish and I always find it comforting.

In my cookbook, Cooking in Green Lemon Land, part of my introduction to the pasta and rice section reads:

Who doesn't like a bowl of pasta? It is one of the world's most comforting foods and in Italy it is served as a first course at almost every lunch table. "La pasta scola! – The pasta is draining!" is the cry that brings everyone to the table and often the aroma of ragù being prepared for lunchtime wafts through apartment buildings and along streets from as early as 8 am. In restaurants pasta is not necessarily served as a primo (first course) as many busy people at lunchtime have either pasta or a secondo (main), rather than both, but in the home it is. There is a myth abroad that Italians do not eat pasta salads or cold pasta dishes but they do, especially in summer. Bread, by the way, is not served with pasta, even when you order it as your main in a restaurant.

In "A Place Called Siracusa" I tell the story of a neighbour of mine who ignored me for over a year when I first came to Modica, until one day, when I met her on my way home for lunch, she asked me if I was about to prepare pasta. When I replied that indeed I was, she beamed and from that day she has greeted me as if I am old friend. I have no idea why she had never acknowledged me before but I think the fact that I was going to serve pasta made me a normal person in her eyes.

I do not make pasta every day or even most days but I do always look forward to it and if I feel unwell I do what Italians do and prepare myself some brodo (meat broth) to which I add the tiny pasta shapes called pastine. It instantly makes me feel better. My favourite pasta dishes? Pasta all'amatriciana, which contains hot chilli pepper and my own pasta alla zucca (pasta with pumpkin sauce) for which I include the recipe here. Oh, and practically all pasta al forno – baked pasta. Lasagne is probably the best known of these dishes outside Italy but I have included some others that I have created. One recommendation I would make if you want to cook pasta often is to invest in a pasta pan that comes with a drainer in the lid. It is much safer and it has changed my life!

So enjoy your pasta today and every day that you have it. You never know - it might change your life!

FOR A FRIEND

A dear friend and former neighbour of mine died on Saturday afternoon at the University Hospital of Wales in Cardiff.

This lady often exasperated and even angered me because her political and societal views were very different from mine but she possessed, in abundance, that undervalued quality without which we are nothing - kindness.

In 2005, on the day when my dog Simi and I flew to Sicily, unwell and partially disabled as my friend was at the time, she dragged herself, on public transport, up to Heathrow Airport. (I had already been in London a week, saying my goodbyes to the city.) She did this because she hadn't wanted me to get on that plane, permanently leaving everything that was familiar, without having someone to wave at as I boarded. It was a gesture of friendship which will stay with me always.

Brexit drove a wedge between us from 2016 but in recent years she sought me out again and I tried to stay off the subject when we communicated!

Since Saturday I have been trying to remember the good times, such as going to the Hay Festival every year and doing the Elgar Trail one summer around Worcestershire. You loved gardens, my friend, so as I write, I am thinking of our visit to the Elgar garden in the Malvern Hills.

You embarked on many journeys in your life and you were sure that this last one would lead you to the God you so sincerely believed in. Bon voyage and say "Hello" to my mum and Simi up there. 

BOOKED!

Distraction is the only thing that consoles us for miseries and yet it is itself the greatest of our miseries.

- Blaise Pascal

At around lunchtime yesterday, probably thinking that there was no one at home as it is still the holiday period, a burglar entered an apartment in Rome from its balcony but stopped to read a book about Greek mythology which he saw on a bedside table. The elderly owner of the apartment found him either sitting on the bed with the book, according to some reports, or on the balcony according to others. Either way, the owner raised the alarm with neighbours, who managed to stop the burglar from escaping and the police arrived quickly to arrest him.

It seems that our 38-year-old burglar, as well as being cultured, has refined tastes, as a bag full of designer clothes, possibly stolen from another apartment nearby, was found in his possession.

The title of the book?  Gli dèi alle sei - L'Iliade all'ora dell'aperitivo - The Gods at Six O'Clock - The Iliad at Apéritif Time by Giovanni Nucci.  Apparently it is a book about the Iliad from the point of view of the gods and how this ancient story might help us understand our own era.

Had our burglar read Pascal, he might have reflected before picking up the book! Let us hope that there is a library wherever he is imprisoned and that he will mend his ways for, as the French author Daniel Pennac says,

A well-chosen book can save you from anything, even yourself.