This blog will take you to places you’ve always wanted to see and to some you may only have heard of. Its purpose – to immerse you in extraordinary tastes and colors, smells, sights and experiences, infecting you, or perhaps aggravating, an already serious case of wanderlust.
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Of Ugandan Weddings, AIDS Orphans and Going Deeper
Too much good stuff from the present demands attention. Venice will have to wait until the next post.
Pam Huston
Lidia Yuknavich
My current writing project is a novel about a young abused Ugandan boy who runs away from home, pretends to be an AIDS orphan, is taken in by a Ugandan Anglican priest, and then faces the loss of this new life. It incorporates snippets from the lives of real AIDS orphans I have been involved with for 20 years. The first draft is in the can and the plot works, but I’ve been struggling to find a way into the heart of ten-year-old Mukisa. That happened this weekend in a mind-opening two days led by authors Lidia Luknavich and Pam Huston at the Port Townsend Writers Workshoppe, in the company of eleven very talented writers – some from PT and others from as far away as Portland.
Going deeper, finding an authentic voice, is always the big challenge, and this is the first time I’ve written from the perspective of a male hero. By the end of the weekend, listening to Pam, Lidia and others in the group, I’d understood in my gut that our common humanity overrides gender, culture and circumstance; every child struggles to overcome pain, to accept and nurture her own unique potential. I will find Mukisa by accessing that child in myself.
The other gift we received was Lidia’s not-to-be-believed generosity as she listened to the writing we produced in response to her guidance. Her enthusiasm and compassion were the gentle bulldozers knocking down barriers to creativity. Lidia and Pam will be back in October. Not soon enough.
Kenneth and Sylvia
Speaking of my fictional Ugandan orphan, here are photos received today of the wedding of Kenneth Kasule, the young man who watches over the real AIDS orphans Port Townsend supports. His bride is the gorgeous Sylvia Najjuma, one of our orphans all grown up, recently graduated in information technology.
He also sent photos of another of our stars, Sharifah Namyalo, with her new computer, donated by a generous PT supporter. Sharifah broke all grade point
Sharifah Namyalo
records at her secondary school and is studying economics in her first year at university on a Ugandan government scholarship. Sylvia and Sharifa could have been throw-away children.
How do these miracles happen? About a third of the support we send the orphans comes from the annual Memorial Weekend Concerts, a labor of love by PT’s favorite concert pianist, Lisa Lanza. She invites the most talented of local
Lisa Lanza
young musicians – and some a little older – to give their best, and it’s always standing room for those who don’t get to Grace Lutheran early enough. Don’t make that mistake! Be there Sunday, May 25, 1120 Walker Street, when doors open at 3:30.
And if you’ve yet to read Lidia and Pam’s books, hurry to the renewed Writers Workshoppe and Imprint Bookstore and buy them all. You’ll see what I mean.
Next – Venice, La Serenissima – really
Italy – Florence – Everything They Say and More
It is my first exposure to great art. You can hardly avoid it in Florence.
David
In the main square is a replica of Michelangelo’s David (the original is now in the Galleria della Academia). The David was originally ordered for a niche high up the cathedral’s facade, but the town fathers, stunned by its beauty, placed it instead just outside the town hall. There he stands, 17′ tall. No flesh and blood male was ever that perfect. He is relaxed, his slingshot and stone ready, his head turned to the left as if just catching sight of his opponent.
Santa Maria del Fiore
Walking down a narrow street I catch a glimpse of the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, a fantasy confection of green and pink and white vertical marble tiles. Entering the piazza, the size of the Cathedral and the octagonal dome that tops it take my breath away. Engineered by Brunelleschi, it is the largest brick dome ever constructed – 171′ from the cathedral floor to the top of the dome, with a span of 144′.
Doors of Paradise
On the piazza, a little distance from the Cathedral, is the Baptistry of St. John with the gilded bronze doors designed by Lorenzo Ghiberti. Michelangelo called them the Doors of Paradise. The name stuck – for good reason. Scenes from the old and new testament emerge from the metal in high relief, tantalizingly real.
You can’t really prepare for the Uffizi Gallery. I am already a bit stunned
Birth of Venus
walking past one masterpiece after another when I come upon Botticelli’s Birth of Venus and his Allegory of Spring. It doesn’t matter that it is hot and the gallery is packed with tourists, the paintings reach out, and even with my untutored eye I know that I am in the presence of something extraordinary.
Primavera
The youth hostel, too, is special. They tell us that the villa once housed Mussolini’s mistress, Clara Petacci. (She met a gruesome end, along with her lover, shot and strung up by her feet outside a gas station in Milan.)
The youth hostel kitchen is open to us and it is here, out of necessity and hunger, that my interest in cooking is born. No more will I pay 50 cents for a plate of sticky strands topped with a tablespoon red stuff. I will boil those strands myself and pour on as much bottled sauce as I want.
Next – Venice, La Serenissima
Italy – Overwhelming Rome
My hitchhiking issues resolved, we set off from Pisa for Rome. We aren’t at the edge of the highway long when a couple of Alfa Romeo convertibles whiz past, then screech to a halt. We are in luck. It’s two friends heading for Rome and they will take us all the way. Mike from Toledo gets in the lead car and I climb into number two. Both Alphas burn rubber as they accelerate onto the highway. This is my first introduction to serious Italian driving – skilled and way too fast.
My friendly driver practices his English and manages to gesticulate and make eye contact while whipping around curves. At first I see death around every bend, but gradually relax. He knows what he’s doing. In a little town we stop for lunch, paid for by our chauffeurs, and get to Rome as dusk is falling. Lights are coming on, but the city is still bathed in sunset. The guys drop us off at the youth hostel on one of Rome’s seven hills and speed off.
St. Peter’s Basilica
The next day is Sunday and we head to St. Peter’s square. Everything is grander than I imagined – the symmetry of the square, the Basilica’s facade, the soaring interior, the spiraling marble pillars of the altar, all overwhelm – just as they are meant to.
The Colosseum
The Colosseum takes my breath away – so perfect and imposing from the outside. Inside, I climb the rows of seats, look down on its ruined floor exposing the underground enclosures and imagine the slaves and animals held there until their fights to the death.
Most impressive of all is the Forum. We walk down its streets, past ruined temples and shops, then climb the Palatine Hill to the villa of Olivia, wife
The Forum
of Augustus, and a view over the center of ancient Rome. I can hardly believe I’m standing here. Edgerton, Wisconsin seems very far away.
All this in one day. We are suffering from history overload – and the heat – and decide the best cure is the Ostia Lido. Due to silting in over the centuries, Rome’s ancient port of Ostia now lies three kilometers from the sea, but the beach still bears its name. After a swim, we spread our towels on the sand and unpack our provisions – bread, salami, a straw-covered bottle of cheapest red, and the best cherries I have ever tasted. They’re known as ‘duronis’ (big hard ones) and are addictive.
We congratulate ourselves on being in the perfect spot on the perfect day – living the life.
Next – Florence and Shades of Mussolini
Italy – Pisa – Problem Solved
The View From Below
Thanks to Dan from New York, I arrive safely at the Pisa youth hostel, a few minutes walk from the famous leaning tower. It’s actually the bell tower of the stunning cathedral and its baptistry. Together they sit on the green, green lawn of Piazza dei Miracoli.
It took 200 years to complete the tower, begun in 1173, and from the beginning it was in trouble. By the
The View From Above
time the second floor was built, it had started to lean due to soft ground on one side and an inadequate 3 meter foundation. In order to compensate, the upper floors were built with one side taller than the other, so the tower is actually curved. Climbing to the top is a weird experience as the slant and gravity pull you in the same way they do the tower. But the view over Pisa is great.
The tower has survived more than faulty construction. During WWII, a U.S. Army Sergeant was sent to confirm Allied suspicions that the Germans were using it as an observation post. Fortunately, he was so impressed with the beauty of the tower and cathedral complex that he convinced his bosses not to launch an artillery strike.
Back at the hostel I am applauded by demanding, and getting, more than the half-dollar size portion of
Pisa on the Arno
tomato sauce spooned out by the hostel’s belligerent cook on the 50 cent bowl of sticky spaghetti that is dinner. It may be this additional cred that convinces Mike from Toledo that I would be just the person to hitchhike with.
On arriving in Pisa he’s found out that the summer job promised him at a bank includes the proviso that he speak fluent Italian. They’ve given him two weeks, and so far he hasn’t gotten past lesson 2. It doesn’t take a lot of prodding from the youth hostel gang to convince him he can live like a king hitchhiking around Italy on his $3.50 a day, and that he’ll learn a heck of a lot more than he would spending the summer at a Pisa bank.
Tomorrow we’ll head to Rome! Two problems solved.
Next: Rome the Eternal
Italy – Decision Time in Genoa
Genoa’s youth hostel is an old chateau complete with towers. It look out over tile roofs and a rainbow of buildings.
On this hot day I decide the sites of Genoa can wait and join a group headed for a swim off Boccadasse, the old mariner’s quarter. The water is clear and blue and calm. Lying on my back, supported by the briny sea, the view of Boccadasse and Genoa is stunning.
Genoa is ancient. The Greeks were here in the 6th century B.C. and the Etruscans used its perfect harbor even earlier. More recently, ship building and steel manufacture made it one of the three hubs, with Turin and Milan, of Italy’s post-war economic miracle.
Even if my budget were grander, I would stay in youth hostels. There is a special camraderie here with other young adventurers, all eager to share experiences and explore together, to absorb everything the day has to offer. In this hostel they’re from the U.S., Germany, Italy, Venezuela and Argentina.
We set off the next morning for the Piazza di Ferrari, the center of town, with the Opera, 
thePalace of the Doges and the house where they say Christopher Colombus was born.
We wend our way toward the Porto Antico – the old harbor – through an incredible maze of narrow streets and allies called caruggi, many too narrow for even the smallest car to navigate.
Just when we think we’re lost, a caruggi will open onto a piazza where it’s possible to get our bearings. Eventually we come to the port and the lineup of seamans’ cafes. They’re a little rough, but lively. (Experience the caruggi in the film ‘A Summer in 
Genoa’ with Colin Firth.)
All day I’ve been putting off the decision I have to make. I’d been hoping to find someone here to hitchhike around Italy with. It hasn’t happened and I’m wondering if I should turn back before I get myself stuck further down the boot.
The consensus of my youth hostel buddies is “NO WAY! DON’T GIVE UP!” Dan from New York makes a very generous offer. He’s headed for a summer on a kibutz and offers to accompany me to Pisa and hitch back to Genoa to get his ship.
How can I turn that down? I take my chances and head for Pisa.
Next: Pisa – More Than the Leaning Tower
