I heart faces:excited

My niece, and who wouldn't be excited about such a sunset?

I heart faces. "at the beach"

I am doing my first ever entry on I heart faces, a photography blog.

The theme for the week over on I heart faces is "at the beach" this is, and will probably always remain my favourite beach photo of my son and husband (the shark) at Lido di Savio, Emilia Romagna, Italy.

testing, testing, one, two, three

Im trying out uploading BIG pictures again, using an url of the image instead of posting it directly into the post.. and it's working, it's working...yippppppeeeeeeeeeee

A wordly perspective.

Piazza Nettuno looking to Piazza Maggiore - Bologna, Italy. (our new hometown)

We are a traveling family, we are. Experiencing the world is important to us as individuals, a couple and as parents. Not only because it broadens our horizons and deepens our understanding, but also because our family is a blend of cultures and we are committed to keeping our cultures alive and a part of our children's lives.

Our home is full of photographs, maps and books from all over the world. We love to watch travel shows and to find out where others are from. I love to hear others experiences of their own countries. I grow a little more tolerate because of it.

We also try really hard to celebrate the traditional holidays of each country we hail from, and to

understand the traditions of the country we are in.

I never knew this would be my life, but I love it.

I am from New Zealand. And despite traveling the pacific my adventures have been more home based than aboard.

My husband is American. Raised for nearly 13 years on the East Coast, exchanging his home base for the West (San Jose, California) in his 13th year. His traveling experiences had included the UK and Ireland on solo bike trips.

He came to New Zealand on a bike trip, which is where our paths crossed.

We married and reproduced and wanted our now 3 year old son to have dual citizenship therefore he too was born in New Zealand but holds 2 passports and citizenships. It's hard to believe our litte guy has been in 13 countries since his birth.

Right now we all live in Italy. How did we get to this point?

After leaving New Zealand we lived in California for nearly 2 years and my husband's company went through some changes which saw him, and 3 of his colleagues transferred to Bologna, Italy on a 2 year contract. So we were in the position of either "move or lose your job" We jumped at the chance to move to Italia, come on, Italy- hello???!! We were a little caught up in romantic notions.

Arriving was fascinating, and so different, and foreign and people were jealous of us which made us feel cool. And appreciative. It didn’t take long before we found ourselves completely hating everything about it. It was as though I had become deaf in a speaking world. I could not understand anything, anyone, road signs, warnings, comments others made to my little boy, I couldn’t read the packages of food and simply bought what I recognized, which was basically rice and pasta with sauce. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this. People pushed, crowded, blew their cigarette smoke all over us, tailgated, cut us off, wouldn't move out of the way when you were trying to get passed. We felt completely and totally isolated and alone. No one smiled, greeted each other or us, people stared without a hint of friendliness. We thought we had made a huge mistake in coming here.

Slowly we picked up enough words to ask for what we wanted, but couldn’t engage in conversation or even answer questions when asked of us. Slowly we understood that "our way was not the only way" of doing things, or seeing the world. Slowly I came to see the beauty in the culture. I would notice that the comments I didn't understand before "bello bimbo" and such were their way of telling me how beautiful/handsome they thought my son was. And how lovely of so many to take the time to do that.

I noticed the old people, still biking around with their grandchildren on the backs of their bikes - active and social. I noticed as the temperatures warmed so did the faces I saw on the streets. Slowly I noticed that the old people love the young, and the young respect the old.

Yes, waiting 7 hours in a tiny police office to do anything official is infuriating and inefficient, yes the paperwork/ bureaucracy is maddening, yes, the cogs of progress turn very very slowly here, but there is so much that is amazing about Italia and her people.

And through this experience I am more tolerant of others struggling to understand life in a different country and I am willing to help them, if I can. I am not too scared to do that. And I hope that my boy will put out his hand to another someday, and make their road a little less bumpy through being exposed to many points of view.

tired...

I am tired of loading this blog and seeing the same old thing. So just for the sake of shaking it up a little, here's a new photo... a new SMALL photo - cos that's all you can add here on blogger.

call me fickle.

...but I am fed up with blogger.

I'm going to return to gailsblog.com for a while, until I find some reason to be fed up with that too, I guess. lol.

Now that's better. (NOT)

(see what happens when I try and enlarge the photo to the size I like it? ack!)

I got to talk to my husband this tonight. He has a sexy voice. I've always thought so, from the first time I talked to him on the telephone, after he dared me to call him. Was that really so long ago?

What a roller coaster ride those early years were.

Now I find myself wanting to go home, to him. Not that I call Italia home, although that IS where we live. I want to go home to Mike. To Mike. My husband, my lover, my friend. He is my home. He is my safe place (most of the time)

I feel like I am wasting time here in some ways. Of course there is plenty for me to do but I am still in vacation mode, out of routine and getting by. I guess part of that feeling comes from not having a permanent spot to live, I have to move around from place to place and that upsets my sense of peace and tranquility. I also feel like I am not enriching the life of my small boy in the ways I would normally choose to do (art, music, learning, lessons etc). Of course I am overflowing him with other wonderful experiences of family and nature.

Maybe that's okay for now.

My 3 major reasons for staying are 1) to support Kieran 2) get my teeth fixed and 3) give Macallum the exposure to english, family and friends that he needs. That fact that it's New Zealand is of course the icing on the cake for me. New Zealand, my home is where the heart is home, New Zealand, the land of my birth, New Zealand, my tangata whenua, my turangawaewae.

Today we went to the beach, and strolled, and built stick fences, and ran along laughing. Initially I didn't want to go, I wanted to curl up on the couch and snooze. I made myself for the sake of my small boy. And as always, I end up having a wonderful time. Macallum is as much of the beach crowd as an kiwi kid. He loves it there.

Tonight was another step in the long treatment plan of restoring my front teeth. According to the dentist this will take about a year to complete, with waiting/healing time included. My crown restoration is a complicated task but we are all hopeful of a good result. Of course I am not staying in New Zealand a year, the dentist will restore what she can to the point that they can be left until I get back in a years time. Fingers crossed.

I need more exercise.

flying fox.

Apparently there are some of you out there that have not been introduced to the flying fox. I am sure you will know it by some other name, zipline perhaps. But the flying fox is a staple kiwi childhood experience, for kids of ALL ages.

Okay I confess that these were the best photos I had of each of us. Many looked like we were trying out for the special olympics. But boy it was FUN!