Today I thought to share a bit more of the typical day my life here.
First off, my companion. Sorella Teichert hails from the proud state of Wyoming where she grew up the oldest of six children. She can't remember how old she was when she first learned how to ride a horse and has spent every summer helping out on the family ranch. Before the mission, she was studying genetics with a minor in international development at BYU and is one year away from graduating. I couldn't ask for a better companion and consider myself lucky to serve with her.
The sun rises well before six and we can hear the cars of those leaving for work all morning long. I smile when I hear them honking, as the horn simply acts an extension of the Italian persona. They are quick to use it and never want to be left out if someone else starts using his or hers.
When we leave in the morning, the women have their small carts for doing their shopping at the various small stores (There is one store outside of town about the size of Walmart call Auchan, but the Italians consider it exhausting to shop there). We have many friends that we pass each day who have known generations of sister missionaries. They are very kind and never miss the chance to say hello. Each morning we pass the men's club, a group of older gentlemen who sit in the park and talk all morning..afternoon..whenever. There is also a man who like to sit by himself and always bring leftover pasta for the stray dogs, especially the large dog that my predecessors named Samson.
From one to four, PRANZO. The entire city shuts down for lunch. We are not allowed to make calls or visits during this time outside of a scheduled lunch visit, so we return to our apartment to study. We often see all of the children heading home to have lunch with their families.
Life begins again slowly in the afternoon. I've learned not to count on any store being open until around five or five-thirty. We pass the afternoon/evening teaching, attending the Relief Society Activity or Young Women Activity, or teaching English courses.
The sun sets early here. Yet as we live across from the PalaMazzola (the basketball/volleyball stadium), we can often here the shouting roars of the crowd at every exciting moment of the match.
Today we wandered the streets of Old Taranto, were regaled stories of how the Greeks settled Taranto in 706 B.C., and made friends with the toothless Carmella, who doesn't read or write, but gave me some great insights on how to improve my skills at the Italian style of crocheting. It brought back many memories of living in Siena: narrow streets, tall palazzi, and university students heading to class in various parts of the city. Sorella and I continued the city's tradition of putting a lock with our names on the Ponte Girevole, signifying that a part of our hearts will always remain here in Taranto.
I can hardly believe that I have almost lived a month in this beautiful city. I can't wait to see what opportunities and experiences the next month will bring, much less the next sixteen months.
Until next time,
Sorella Lovell
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