Category Archives: Community

Your Most Important Renovation Asset

01 Thursday Nov 2012

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One of the questions I get a lot is whether I had a terrible time trying to work with Italian workers and bureaucracy on the villa project. While this may disappoint people looking for a more juicy post, the answer is no. Why? We went local, and we had a great geometra.

The geometra is, in my opinion, the single most important decision you can make on an Italian reno project. Good ones know their way around the myriad regulations and filings, they know which contractors are good at what, which suppliers have the best windows, plasters, rafters, etc., who has the time to really devote to your project and who will try to charge you too much. They run the show on you behalf.

Fees are usually a fixed percentage of construction. This is, of course, something you want to work out ahead of time. But it’s money so well spent, it’s the last thing you want to haggle over.

Majordomo Nadia, project Queen

So how do you find a good one? As I mentioned before, it’s not through your real estate agent. We spent some time in our local community, asking around at bars and our new neighbours, and they directed us to Studio Ginocchio and the capable Nadia Silvano. The fact that she was part of the local fabric was as important as her professional skills, because when you start on a project like this, you begin to build a web of contacts and interdependencies that are just like a spider’s web: strong and delicate at the same time. No-one wanted to let Nadia down, and by extension no-one would let us down, either.

Not that we delegated completely and then disappeared. That was another important aspect of being able to get things done reliably. If you don’t make an effort to be present as much as possible, to be part of the community when you’re there, to care about who’s just had a baby and whose mother has just died, then no-one will care about the progress of your house in turn. But the number of times someone from whom I needed help asked me who the geometra was, and the way they always made an effort to give me what I needed when I said it was Nadia, convinced me of the importance of her role.

Advice: Find the geometra everyone loves. Love him/her in turn, treat them with respect (this should go without saying, but you’d be amazed), appreciate their knowledge, listen to them. They are your most important renovation asset!

Friends

28 Monday May 2012

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Of all the things I feel I’ve gained through having this insane villa project, the most important one has to be a much deeper appreciation of the value of friends. Old friends, good friends, new friends, even just friendliness in general has been a consistent theme since the get-go. People of all stripes, and their willingness to help and cheer and commiserate, have been instrumental not just to our progress, but to the richness of the experience along the way.

Neighbour Dino helping to finish off the bathroom when we needed man-strength.

Heather, who showed Marcia and I such fantastic hospitality although we were total strangers, giving us an impromptu (and delicious) cooking lesson.

My neighbour Monica and her Mom, who run the bar. Monica’s husband Alberto, who has the advantage of machinery as well as muscle, has been so helpful over the years.

Our local grocer, maker of so many scrumptious things, always makes me feel like I’ve come home.

And I can’t leave out Dino’s dog Rudy, who has an instinct for knowing when we’ve pulled out the chaises and have our laps ready for a visitor.

There are lots of others, some of whom I’ve already spoken of and some as yet unsung. Even the unmet help: fellow bloggers who have encouraged me, facebook fans who help me understand just how wonderful an opportunity I have.  They all mean the world to me.  Having a finished villa someday would be lovely. But even if it never gets to completion, having all this warmth and openness sent my way over the journey is even more precious.

 

 

 

 

 

Crazy Cantamaggio

14 Monday May 2012

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I’m happy to report that some things turn out to be every bit as good as we hope. I’ve waited years to be in Scurtabo for the first of May to celebrate Cantamaggio, a tradition that dates back, according to my sources, ‘since forever’.

Finding it was a challenge. The conversation went something like this:

I’d like to go to the Cantamaggio celebrations. Do you know if they’ll be on today?

Yes, certainly they will be.

Do you know when?

They started this morning.

How long will they sing?

All day. But not right now. (it was close to noon)

Later, then?

Yes.

Do you know where?

(gesture) All around.

Will they be at Scurtabo this afternoon?

Yes.

So if I go up there now and wait, they’ll show up?

Yes. But why would you go up now? They won’t be there.

One of the singers.

It was about then the penny dropped and I realized the event was like Mummering – you can’t possibly predict when or where, you can only put yourself in their general path and keep asking and waiting. The whole valley celebrates, with several bands of roving troubadours moving from house to house – and bar to bar – throughout the day to sing traditional songs, play the accordion and spoons, dance with whoever is willing, and generally have a rollicking time of it.

A super fancy tour bus for the band – yes, they pile in the back.

They did indeed arrive at the bar in Scurtabo, much later in the afternoon. It was pouring rain so everyone was packed inside. A large, covered truck drove up and out piled a dozen men in varying states of wobbliness. They’d already been going since 9:00 in the morning, drinking and singing, so they were in fine form.Spumanti was passed around, the accordionist started up, and the classic first of May song was belted out by the whole crowd. There’s a part about a donkey where everyone is supposed to jump up and down; my friend Marcia and I were instructed in this crucial bit and hauled into the throng to hop along. That was just the beginning.

One of the ‘band’ members played the spoons – really well. He solemnly swore to me that his instruments had been given to him by the Conservatory in Piacenza…

It’s not Italian without an accordion.

Willing, if not quite able, to try a whirl on the dance floor.

Somehow space was made for dancing, we were crazy enough to say yes to various wild-eyed singers looking for a partner, and they were uncaring enough not to be fazed by our total ignorance of the dance steps. We proved beyond a doubt that while Canadians may be good sports, they’re no match for Italians –even tipsy ones – on the dance floor.

So much fun. I’ve left out the more embarrassing photos, and the ones I have are poor due to the light, but I think you can get the idea!

Going Local for Renovations

14 Wednesday Mar 2012

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For anyone who might be thinking about restoring a villa in the Italian countryside, this is my one best piece of advice: be a locarenovator! Source your contractor, geometra and materials from the community in which you’re building.

Godzilla's contractor Angelo with baby and wife Stefania (who's part of the family who runs the local bar and restaurant)

We’ve made a lot of mistakes with our villa – mostly with regards to understanding how much stuff actually had to be done to make it livable, and how much money it would take. More about that tale of woe another time! The one thing we have done right is to hire people who live within a 20 minute drive, and to buy our materials from about the same radius. Why is this so important?

Geometra Nadia, who somehow always knows what I'm trying to say even when I complete massacre the grammar.

For one thing, everyone who’s got something to do with the outcome knows each other. They all run into each other (and sometimes us) at the bar, the bakery, or Saturday night’s festa. They went to school together. They know each others’ babies. Their interconnection is vital for getting things done.

And, more than that, I believe fervently that the project, however sporadic our activity, should benefit the community in which we seek to be welcome. It seems only right.

One last piece of advice: learn the language. You can’t participate if you don’t. You end up being a mere stranger demanding service, and it will never be as good. Italians are the most forgiving people on earth towards those who butcher their beautiful language, so there’s really no excuse. Go forth fearlessly and learn to be local.

The Local Party Machine

12 Thursday Jan 2012

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No I’m not talking politics, I’m talking party. Every other Saturday night in the summer, in the hills above Godzillavilla, there’s a community party that involves the best dinner deal in Italy, followed by dancing to a live band. It’s all put on by local volunteers who cook the meals, serve them, organize the music and clean up. Proceeds help fund worthwhile projects in the area.

Fuelling up for the dance marathon to come

Each night has a different gastronomic theme. My favorites are the strawberry extravaganza and testaroli night (a kind of savoury pancake). Everybody eats at communal tables and getting a seat can involve some waiting, these evenings are so popular.

Hooray for strawberry night

The thing I love most about them is the wide-spread, ageless participation. Everybody from little children to grandparents goes, including teenagers and twentysomethings, a group you’d never see boogying with Grannie in Canada. The bands are classic Italian countryside groups whose songbooks include covers of pop music as well as all the best Italian classics. Paolo Bertoli is one of the favorites and always draws a good crowd.

Boogey on down with Paolo

Dancing is an intimidating affair for us, since these people know what they’re doing. Tarantellas, foxtrots, polkas, waltzes – and a particular line-dancing number that I can almost follow after a lot of practice – are all effortless for the locals. Still, no-one laughs at our less skilled efforts. Everybody’s there to have a good time. The party rocks hard into the night and the music echoes out over the entire valley. No point in going to bed early with that volume, so you might as well dance the night away!