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.