Big Teeth Travel Log:

My New Blog about Food, Love & Life

Long time no see...Did any one miss me? Did anyone even notice? Probably not. But if you have or you are merely passing by and you would like to read what the Wee Italian Chick has been up to, then read on!

After a fair number of years blogging I have noticed my time for introspective reflection has decreased immensely; nonetheless I still try to make time to enjoy what's good in life. My boyfriend and I love gourmet food and travelling and we are ever so gutted when we visit a new place we love (or hate) and don't remember exactly where it was because we ne

ver bothered to write it down somewhere. That's why these days we write it here. We hope you enjoy exploring the world with us as we eat and see and love.

Bon apetit!

Happiness is only real when shared

I must have used this quote by Tolstoj from "Family Happiness"many a times. In the whole idea of God, community, self discovery, emotions, love - I have always found the concept of shared life ever so captivating. Having spent most of my teen-age years as a misunderstood-self-condemning little nerd, I discovered in the deep sense of community an incredible release of warmth and energy. Needless to say, those years of solitude taught me invaluable lessons regarding self-management and contentment under all type of circumstances. However, in as much as it taught me of to be well by my-self, it also showed me that with other(s) it is better, everything is better.

There are times when solitude and asceticism are still to be preferred and sought after - like fasting in preparation for an event which requires higher levels of commitment than our routine life - but on our day-to-day life having someone by your side caring and sharing, and loving and looking after is so precious. And for all this, I am truly grateful. Everything is more beautiful with you.

"I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor--such is my idea of happiness. And then, on top of all that, you for a mate, and children perhaps--what can more the heart of man desire?" - from "Family Happiness" L.N. Tolstoj.

No Need For A Melody

I guess you could say I have been known to watch a fair ammount of movies in my day. Popular culture teaches us that films are a great way to interpret and analize reality without even having to live those experiences in first person. Some may call this escapism. Blaise Pascal, XVII century philosopher, talked about "the vanity of divertisement", those out of consciousness activities we engage in in order to, as a matter of fact, avoid reality. It may sound harsh, but through out the years I have begun appreciating this theory. I always seem to relate specific times of my life to a song, a sound, a bit like as if I needed a soundtrack to my emotions, yes, like in a movie.
A couple fo days ago, my itunes random selection brought to my ears "Sometimes you can't make it on your own" by U2 - that song,man,it totally captured a specific time in my life and by simply hearing it I somehow re-lived the same emotions I felt back than...like in a flashback. All this brought me to think this may actually be the first time of my life when I feel lucid, when like a person who has been fasting for a long time you manage to see your self from the out side, like some sort of out of body experience and see yourself and you are exactly how you had always hoped you'd become. Imperfect, with a past filled with mistakes but true, honest, sharp, happy, with no need for a melody, maybe just a wee accompainment. Loving it.

Grace

I am beginning to embrace that it is a big part of the maturing process in one's life to be willing to admit the things we have always been too fearful or afraid to speak out loud before. Like my dream to become a paediatrician for fear of stepping into a clique.
When I was in my first year at uni I read a book that spoke to a book that spoke to me in a very profound way, "What's so amazing about grace?"by Philip Yancey. From that moment I dreamt that had I ever had a little girl I'd call her Grace,there I said it! "GRACE is receiving freely something we could have never done enough to earn". Over the past few months I have realized more than ever that I am at the receiving end of grace. I have so much,besides from the Grace of God alone who sent His son to die for me even though he knew I could have never repaid him. In the Sound of Music,Maria sings "Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good". I am not sure I have,Maria, but God's grace has blessed me and I am grateful.

Conquered with a smile

I love smiling. It keeps my mimic muscles fit and it helps me mantain a positive attitude to whatever I do in life. A few months back I was at a gig in a little pub near my house with my next door neighbour and a couple of collegues we were chatting and laughing when suddenly a handsome short brown hair-blue eyed young man in a tweeded brown jacket and jeans came towards me sporting the largest white smile I had ever seen, shook my hand and kissed me on the cheek (like as if he'd known me my whole life while in fact we had never met before). Then off he disappeared into the crowd. I didn't even know his name or where I knew him from, but that image stayed with me for days from then.
Exactly two months later, on St Patrick's day, the pub where I work to make ends meet was filled with people eating,drinking and having a good time. At one of the tables with a group of friends of mine was sat the very same boy I had seen at the concert to months before. He was very funny and joyous throughout the whole evening and we definitively made a connection. A few days later he got hold of my contacts and began calling me. We hit it off straight away. Within a week he had already given me a pretense "engagement ring"and had asked me out on a date. Everything from then on has been a constant and ever surprising discovery of each other. Whatever we have in common are mostly the things we both always thought, dreamed of, hoped for and never even verbalized out loud. Magic. And it all started with a charming smile..

Life is a rough-edged thing..

..this is a line from a really beautiful song by an emerging indie local guy who used to attend the same lyceum as me. Giovanni Truppi, in my opinion, is an unassuming,rather talented musician-singer-songwriter. His music (guitarr-drums-winds) is surprisingly original and his lyrics are brilliantly introspective. As far as I know, he has been composing for a few years now, yet I first came across his music a couple of months ago at a local gig. It was a fun and inspirational experience. In the very same song where he states that "life is a rough-edged thing",he also asks the very profound question: "how long has it been since you last made a discovery?" - this line really spoke to me,and to this day I keep living by the principle that I want for each and every to be a discovery,maybe not, though hopefully yes,the cure for a neural disease, but more so a child-like excitement for one's emotional life, for the world around us and for the life we lead. today I want to break new grounds, make a discovery!

Butterflies

P retty much everybody who knows me is aware of my freaking phobia for any living creature, birds and pigeons especially, that has the ability to fly. I've often been told it is hilarious to watch me screem and fan my hands with no coordination whatsoever at the sight of a pigeon! Having said that I still hold a great deal of respect for God's creative talent and I must admit he did a pretty good job on the butterfly front. Colourful,graceful,wispy,beautiful. Just the other day one of them posed on my friend's shoulder for quite a while until we all notice it and she flew away flapping her wings rapidly into the air. It's been so long. So much time has passed and life has changed and it has changed me with it. It's still me,but different. Sometimes I feel like I have become a different person, but deep inside I haven't - I am just the grown up version (or I'd better say "the growing up" version) of myself. there is somebody I used to love very much,but now this has changed and I have become much less sensitive, yet much more sensible. I no longer hold any feelings at all for that person yet from time to time I am reminded that what I felt, what we had was not nothing - like what I feel now, but it was real,wonderful. The intimacy and understanding, the companionship, the critique, the dialogue, the arguments, the sharing,the jokes,the laughter,the tears,the challenges,the care. I wonder whether I am destined to ever feel butterflies in my stomach at somebody walking into a room, at the simple knowledge of someone being there...

The Present

I often get asked the same ol' question every Western girl gets asked around about their birthday.."so,any prince Charming in shiny armours on the horizon yet?" Now more than ever the answer is: "yes, plenty"..the point is that not because one thinks some one is nice, they should feel innately compelled to wanting more from them. I have been fighting for so long against conventionalism that I guess now it has become my natural way of thinking. I live a happy,full and delightful life. Perfect just the way it is. So why should I be wanting more?

It was my twenty-something birthday party a few days ago. Some of my best gals and some of my male pals had been invited. It was a fun evening. We ate and drunk and laughed and I got quite a few nice gifts. My ladies got me some lovely stuff from my favourite surfers' shop. Nice. My boys also got me some amazing stuff: some of my favourite music and books..which I already had. Don't get me wrong. I have been taught to be thankful for a present whenever you get one, and I do. Frankly, I thought their presents were kind and lovely. However this brought me to make some considerations. Wasn't it emblematic that the wonderful things my "potential-princes-charming" had provided for me where the things I already had? May be I may be accused of being cynical and cold-hearted, but why should I make sacrifices and compromise to get something I already have? Just think.

Blue Valentine

Quiet as a tornado..

Pretty much anyone who knows me,knows me as the most effervescent single girl they have ever met. I have had a few romantic stories. Some of them have changed me profoundly..influenced me into being the person I am today...with some regrets,of couse,as all of those stories did, eventually, come to an end. I love my life, despite all of it's quarky flaws and wrongs. I love being free to like and eat and listen to and watch and read what I like when I like where I like without having to be reliable on or responsable for anyone else. Guess that's called "being in your twenties and appreciating singleness". I have a few highly trusted friends, a zillion acquaintances and I meet dozens of people on a daily basis whom I share life and have fun,and cry and laugh with them but then, I keep a whole inner me secluded home for me to find when I get back..and that seems to be when the fun really starts..when I take my make-up off,put my trackies and my favourite music on..put off lights, light up candles and scented oils and get engrossed into reading,cooking,painting,writing, or merely speculating on the news or some random thought. My sister and her fiancè say they can totally picture me in a couple of decades living with a whole bunch of dogs, sporting long white hair in a dusty country house full of books. Suddenly, someone then walks into your life. As quietly as a tornado, he doesn't sweep you off your feet but worse: he can read you so well to put your foundations down. And you still have no idea of how he did it. And suddenly, even if you have a few trusted friends, a zillion acquaintaices and a few dozen strangers to talk to you wish to hear no-one's voice but his..Unfortunately, he is the one person you have asked to stay out of your life because it scared you how much he got you inside and because,somehow, the mistakes and hurts of the past haunt you worse than a ghoast. I miss you.

As you said, "It's been raining since you and I". Yesterday the sun came out again, but why is it you won't get out of my heart? I miss you.

Feeling all grown up..Feeling so small..

The Bionic Woman

On the way back from a delightful evening at the cinema with friends, we laughed away and discussed about life, how it's changed us, what we have become. So it seemed that us 20 something girls have gone from dreamy-eyed, romantics to seemingly cold-hearted, pragmatics..some sort of bionic women!

I have grown cynical.

All this makes me wonder whether I was always this way, or something along the way changed me into being like this.
Was I always as independent and non-conformist, was I conditioned somewhere down the line into becoming a little princess, dreaming of wearing a white meringue dress, giggling at banal cheesy chick flick movie lines and expecting that same cinematographic behaviour in my own relationships? I remember a phase of my life where I would be watching pop girls’ films, long for a tall, blue eyed "Prince Charming", becoming a Betty Crocker style mother, a perfect wife, an exquisite chef and hostess, condescending with wistful eyes to my lover’s desires.. not too far behind down memory lane, however, there is me skinny brown eyed self-confident tomboy, who loves climbing up trees and demands to be taught how to read and write aged 4… who enjoys solitude, nature, beauty and adventure…who wants to graduate as her top ambition…who is not afraid of competition nor spiders or sleeping in the dark alone… who is unafraid of thinking and acting outside of a box, but is fearful of becoming a stereotype, of being stuck in a box.
I think the wild little girl with grass stains on her knees, uncombed hair and lively eyes is back and she is happy and feels so free to be herself again…too bad that now some people would like her back onto being a little princess. Now the question is: would men of our time be able to deal with all this? I wish I could be the kind of girl who loves conventionally, who, when you give her a flower, doesn't laugh in your face and actually appreciates that you took her out on a romantic dinner, who could love a traditionalist man as well as he deserves to be loved… Am I unable to commit? Am I just scared of taking the plunge again? Or is this just the way things are meant to be for now? God, am I a cynic?

What if?

Regardless of my many attempts to write a post on the "What ifs" of life, this is the first time I feel daring enough to go through with it.
"No regrets!" has always been my motto, but what if the turn I took, the road I chose, the things I did, felt or said were a different closed envelop than the one I picked? The movie "Sliding Doors" (1998) may not be the best film ever produced and we all might agree on the fact that Gwyneth Paltrow's best feature is Mr Chris Martin, but it is a great starting point for a discussion of what would have happened if someone missed a certain sliding door in life..would that just mean they'd have to catch the next train to the same station or the possibility of commencing a brand new life adventure..
As you all know, I have recently returned back to where it all started from and I am glad I did even if this choice carries along a great deal of implications. Fox is currently showing a TV serial called "October Road" - the show has actually been on for the past year or so, but I have not managed to watch any of it if not the trailer. Apparently it tells the story of an author who returns home after 10 years to face the people he had based his book on. The catch phrase is "because only the fool does not return to the place where he had been happy". I wanna be no fool. Despite my constant criticism of Naples and of the things I disagree of on my hometown, I lived wonderful years here.
Exactly a week ago I was at possibly the swankiest pool party of the year for a dear friend's graduation. Elegant venue, chic dresses, superb cusine, free bar, good music, beutiful young people, warm laughters, genuine affection.. perfect, I'd say. I was at first a little apprehensive about seeing people I had not met in 3,5,10 years even. What would they make of my life story? How would they perceive me? Would I be pretty in their eyes? Don't get me wrong: I am a generally extremely self-confident person, very much at peace with my self and, as I said, with "no regrets". But the situation required a little self awareness, I guess. So I got ready, adjusted the last few details before the mirror by the entrance door and entered into a new/familiar world. Beyond any of my expectations, it was like being once again the popular girl in jr high, but I did not have to pretend to be anyone else but me. After a couple of years of feeling worthless, ugly and misunderstood, I felt..well..at home!
All this often made me wonder on whether ever going away was the right choice.. what if the cute young doctor who was chatting me up had been a classmate of mine five years ago, what if I hadn't snobbed off that group of people, what if I had never fallen in love with the guy who ended up scarring me for life, what if..what if..what if...!??!?!?!
But the answer is always the same: you cannot judge life backwards because the person we are today is inevitably the result of experience - the right choices and the wrong turns alike.

The Humiliation of Love

"Love Hurts" Incubus.

Tickled by a Gentle Soap Bubble

When my mother was still undergoing treatment, she wrote me a text message to encourage me throughout a time of great emotional and existentialist turmoil for me. Yap. How strange? She was sick and I was disconforted! Anyway. My phone broke the other day and I am now using an older phone where some dated messages were stored. The message read: "I love you. When one is serene and accommodating of other people's needs it means that you appreciate the gifts God gives." It didn't make much sense then. Now it is perfectly clear. Don't get cross; don't try to make justice for yourself; don't torture your mind with neverending "why's?". Love unconditionally. Love will bounce back at you as a gentle soap bubble, a soft breeze on a spring day, a lighthouse out at see at night.
(Matthew 13:1-23)

Scarlet

I often find myself reminiscing about my childhood. Maybe because it was a carefree, happy period of my life – the best dare I say. Possibly because deep down I am disappointed with the way I have turned out to be as an adult…do I really match up to the woman I dreamt of becoming as a little girl. Maybe I just find it hard to accept the fact that, in reality, I don’t seem to have changed that much. Tonight, for instance, I feel lonely and rejected like that one time when I walked over the lizard all the boys were playing with, thus ending the ‘game’, I guess. They hated me at that particular moment and made sure I knew about it too. Fair enough everything was soon forgiven and forgotten, but their refusal upset me a great deal. I remember I cried for hours…even ended up vomiting on my parents costume-made silk sate. They weren’t impressed either but, like today, they were understanding of me. Parents. Shortly after the lizard episode, we were climbing up trees again, but that period in between my peers rejection and one of them knocking on our front door whilst the others were waiting on the landing trying to look the least mischievous they could (useless attempt must say..), hurt me, like this self perceived distance is hurting me now. Even though we are not climbing up trees anymore, I am still waiting for you to knock on our front door, hold my hand again and hear you say, ‘She is my best friend!” – with pride, joy, nostalgia, awe.

“Teach a child the way that he should walk, and even when he will be old, he shall not depart from it” Proverbs.

Farewell

Farewell it's a word that I cherish. It is not as harsh as 'adieu' nor as semplistic as 'good-bye'. Nevertheless, I still don't like good-byes. I have learnt to be less emotive about it, I am contineously seeking not to get too involved emotionally..but I still don't seem to have learnt how to be detached, emotionless. I get attached, I love, I care, sometimes I love people so much I can't help but overwhelm them with affection, thus, to pull them away from me..and that kills me from the inside, it rottens me like a worm slowly consumes an apple cork, like a burning fire painfully consumes a log of wood..reducing it to ashes, mere dust, easily swept away by the gentle breeze.. Why couldn't love be easier?

Sophia - from the album, De Nachten...
If only
hand in hand we spend the night
love comes easy by candlelight

we lie about our past to make each other believe
that this is the love that will last for eternity

if only, if only
if only, if only
if only I could believe that tomorrow
when I wake from my sleep
that you'll still be with me
oh my love
my love will always be

Take a Chance

Today it is "Remembrance Sunday"in the UK. It is meant to be a day to remember those who lost their lives, suffered, sacrificed in war times. To me it has a very different, individualistic meaning. Remembrance Sunday five years ago was the day when I had been given a chance to get rid of a bondage, metaphorically speaking, that has shaped my life ever since. Today I live in a bondage-free world. Too bad it's taken me five years to get to this stage and put my life back on track.
Do you ever wish that, at a cross road you had taken the other direction? Today, in as much as I am conscious and grateful for the situations that have occurred in so far and filed my life, transforming into the person I am becoming, I wish I had taken that chance, I wish I had chosen to go my way instead of compromising my ideals for a more agreeable, ""conformist"" path...choices,ah?

How To Save a Life

I am a former theology student - now embarked upon a long journey of medical studies. In theory, I should know all there is to know about saving lives. This theme, concept, has been meaningful to me for a number of years. I wrote my first BA dissertation on the possible intersession between medicine and theology and I long to be living out those ideals in first person. When I wrote that paper, I quoted a simple, yet explicit, line from the movie "Patch Adams"; that movie and the real life character of Dr Adams have been a source of inspiration for me over the years. The protest against unfounded accepted stereotypes, not merely for argument's sake, but for the reinstatement and affirmation of sacrosanct humane and godly values such as compassion, unconditional love, kindness, overall justice. The quote is that when Patch Adams reminds his friend who is afraid someone may eventually die, even after receiving the necessary medical aid, to which he replies that a doctor's job is not to prevent death, but to improve the over-all quality of people's lives. Just today I have been pondering on the subject of suffering, death. Unfortunately or actually not that unfortunately after all, we cannot prevent death; death is part of life and I guess life would not be equally as valuable, precious, worth fighting for if we were immortal in this skin of ours. Nonetheless, we must strive to make it better, to make the most of what has been given to us not just as individuals, but as a whole of people associated by a common humanity. Saving lives is what doctors try to do day in day out, but ultimately I believe only God can truly save one's soul, hence their eternal life.

I have been wondering a bit recently over the gigantic internal changes that have been happening to me. In as much as I have tried to deny it for so long, I have grown harder, more cynical, less loving. I have loved someone so much that I guess all of the love I was capable of feeling has now combusted and now dedicating my life to other people's problems seems like a much more viable option. Caring for other people's children in order to avoid committing wholly to someone again and choosing to have children together; choosing to live in a tent not to pay a mortgage; saving lives in order to avoid facing my own.

"How to Save a Life" (The Fray)

Jolene

A dear friend wrote me these words recently: "Yeah blogs are great, I just wish mine would kind of update itself as I cant seem to find the time!! haha, but yours is excellent, we love reading it... for me it shows how you have changed and grown so much since I first met you, but how at the same time you always remain the same Ivonne we have always known and loved... the same but different, I guess most of us are like that!" I think that is such a beautiful yet truthful reflection. We change. It does not matter how old or young we are, we all change. It is so funny to look back at life. It is like when you get you hands on some old journals and fathom thoughts of old which now cause you hilarity. What's really funny is that, at the time you wrote those things you now laugh or cringe about, you actually used to believe them, they were you. I am reminded of a delightful love poem by Turkish contemporary author Nazim Hikmet; I have never read it's English translation so my translation from Italian will have to do..

"On this autumn night I am full of your words

Eternal words like time, like matter

Heavy words like a hand, sparkling like the stars

From your head, from your flesh

From your heart your words have reached me

Your words full of you, mother

Your words, love

Your words, friend

They were sad, bitter;

They were joyous, full of hope

They were courageous, heroic.

Your words, they were men."

I am also reminded of Kierkegaard when he expressed that "life can only be understood by looking back but only lived by looking forward" - words were never truer. There are times when things happen and you can only scream why. You are angry, outraged, in despair. People telling you that is going to get better suddenly become unsympathetic enemies. No-one understands. Six months ago, I was ready to give up, to run away, to hide, disappear because the pain was too much to bear. Everything I ever loved, everything I ever wanted was being taken away from me. My safe mansion was becoming a sand castle blowing in the wind before my very eyes and it hurt. You sing songs of despair, pull your hair out, find yourself crashing on the kitchen floor, sobbing, in the middle of a working day..No strength to look at yourself in the mirror, no real urge to get out of bed in the mornings..sadness being your daily bread. Then you look back - this time a content sweet smile crowns your relaxed face. Outside is raining in the middle of July, but your heart is pounding with excitement. Excitement for possibility. Faith: being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Jolene, originally interpreted by the lady at the top of the page, Ms Dolly Parlton, was majestically interpreted by the White Stripes (material to give you goose-bumps guaranteed). That song at one point became my song of despare, painfully encompassing my suffering (even if on different and diverse levels). Now it is the wonderful Jolene by Ray LaMontagne that, together with "Chicago" by Sufjan Stevens, accompany me on a journey of re-discovery, beauty, love. Here is one for you, my dear readers.