We will always be together, you and me. - MSP Final Night song, always belted out by crying middle-schoolers

Summer school at TASIS started yesterday. Which always makes me feel a little bit sad. I spent many summers frolicking with 11-13-year-olds in the Alps, Milan, and Lugano, and it was the best job I've ever had. And I've had a lot of jobs.

I miss the kids, the scenery, the heat, the chaos, the Bertani wine, but most of all I miss the people. TASIS people outnumbered non-TASIS people at my wedding. My facebook page is juiced up by over 100 'friends' from my summers there whom I genuinely like and care about. It's a blissfully international, multi-aged group of randoms brought together by a mutual love for the outdoors, kids, Europe, and people.

It's almost a cliche, the idea that true friends are ones you pick up with exactly where you left, no matter how much time and distance triumphs. When you've lived all over the place, and given some of yourself to others in each place, knowing that things can comfortably slide back into place is vital. I'm a damn lucky girl.

And Lugano is still 'home'.

Great things are done when men and mountains meet. - William Blake

The EasyJet to Milan is always amusing, but yesterday’s smacked me into the middle of Italianland - the plane was full of tweens and teens clad in tight jeans, pointy shoes and gold belts. Their rapid-fire speech challenged my rudimentary Italian, but I got the gist of things (most were talking about Edinburgh shopping). And landing in Milan felt more familiar than landing anywhere else.

My friends Masa and Tamara picked me up, and as the Alps became visible on the horizon I felt the warming sensation of home. Perhaps that’s because I’ve spent more time in Lugano than anywhere else since I moved abroad eight years ago, and every time I see these glorious mountains I find myself truly relaxed. As we curled up the Collina d’Oro to the TASIS campus and the hilltop village of Montagnola, I had to pinch myself.

I last waved goodbye to Lugano in late July 2007, though a place like this is never far from my heart or my subconscious. I have dreams of Lugano a few times a month, always vivid and colorful (yes, I am certain I dream in color). I have this term I rarely use, sick beautiful, when a view is extraordinarily glorious, majestic, beyond what we mortals should ever see. This region of Italy and Switzerland resonates with me on a level that I don’t understand, but will continue to indulge, because I yearn for this place.

Returning somewhere familiar is both awkward and riveting. Small things - fresh paint on the facade of a house, a new signpost - become reminders that this place existed without me, and didn’t really miss my presence. Seeing old friends and colleagues last night was wonderful, though vetting strange looks from those who took my place tinged the atmosphere bittersweet. I’m sure it’s the first of many deliciously uncomfortable moments that lie ahead this week, as I become an interloper in a place I used to call ‘home’.

It’s raining today, but a soft, clear Ticino rain, so different to the Highland drizzle. Spring rain in Lugano freshens the landscape, enlivens the layers of bright, satiny greens. The magnolia trees are in bloom, fragrant wisteria clings to terraces, and the palm trees sport bright new leaves. The timing of this visit is deliberate; spring is when Lugano sings with renewal and wonder.

Earlier, I trotted across the road to the Pan au Vin, the tiny, extortionately-priced village shop with inconsistent hours and a grumpy manageress, and spent far too long drooling over the sparse but compelling selection. Even this tiny shop stocks the highest quality fresh pesto, jars of olives, sundried tomato paste and truffle risotto. I wasn’t the keenest of chefs when I lived here. Now that I’ve begun to enjoy the creative part of cuisine, I have a feeling much of my week will be spent browsing and salivating in markets and delis. The food of this region is among my favorite in the world.

A week of vacation here is a dream. Working here, I had to force myself to chill out and remember the view between commitments and grading papers and duties. Life becomes life no matter what the backdrop. But now, I’ve got a glorious week to fill with conversation, writing, savouring - falling back in love with this amazing place, on my terms. I’m a lucky lassie.

musings as the countdown begins

The looming leaving is beginning to take hold...every morning, I'm savouring the view from the red bench a litte bit more on my walk down to school, and noting the changes in the mood of the mountains surrounding Lake Lugano each moment I can catch a quick peek. Somehow I know these moods will haunt me once I have gone, the vast colours the sunlight casts on the peaks, the soft greens of thousands of trees, the harsh rock faces peeking through the foliage. During the day, nature dominates these mountains. It is difficult to imagine a place more beautiful, more harmonious. The sky and clouds merely mesh as background to the intensity of these massive hills. But as the sky fades and the colours change into bright pinks, lavenders, and oranges, man's attempt to tame the mountains around Lake Lugano begins to show. My favourite time is just before dusk, when the lights of towns creep up the hills, casting new light on these peaks. Funiclears run along the sides of Monte Bre and San Salvatore, a trophy to engineering conquering these steep hillsides. The lights stop abruptly, perhaps where man cannot build, or perhaps where man hasn't yet tried. The numerous cranes on the hillsides - 18 I count now - show man's determination. I like this juxtaposition of nature and man. There's a certain heart-stopping beauty to it.

Closure is possible because I'm returning, in a way. I first knew TASIS in the summertime, and now I am back in a comfort zone. The fat, three-inch beetles are back, taking their time as they cross the stones on my patio from plant to plant. The lizards are back, too, darting across well-worn paths along the hillside. Fuzzy honeybees buzz from flower to flower, burying their heads in Horst's creations. The greens are back, too - not the springtime greens in their fresh, light splendour, but the dark, rich summertime greens, happy to gleam in the sunshine and drink in the rain, confidently bursting with splashes of colour. Now, looking out onto the scooped peaks of Alpe Bolla, the rounded lump of Monte Bre, the triangular peak of a border mountain in Italy, and the lumpy mound of San Salvatore, I can hardly imagine a more beautiful place. There's a palm tree in my garden, proudly facing an Alp. Nature here is a confusing delight.

I'm starting to feel the sadness hit. This is inevitable, of course, and something I always push back into the depths of my brain. I've left a lot of places in the past decade. I've left some places on bad terms, some places bawling my eyes out on a train, others quickly shoving my things into boxes and hoping they arrive one day, some with parties and well-wishers. I'm not sure I will ever truly leave TASIS. This place has talons; perhaps it is Mrs. Fleming's commitment to the international aspect of education and its importance to any sort of future as human beings, perhaps it is the caliber of people it employs, but mostly it is the stunning, breathtaking view from the Collina d'Oro. Those of us who work here know we're a part of something special in an exceptional setting. We put up with its frustrations to be privvy to the majestic scenery.

I've lived next door to the place Herman Hesse wrote his most noteworthy stories. There is something very cool about that.

banco rosso

The Red Bench is one of those places everyone knows about. So many lives have shared moments on its surface. Teenagers sneak a cigarette or their first kiss. Local pensioners stop for a breather after ambling up the hill on their morning walks. Dogs stop to sit on the patch of grass below. Colleagues stop to take in the view on their way up or down the hill, trying to remember that there is more to this place. Everyone passes it on their way up to errands in Montagnola. It's a special spot on this golden hillside, precious to everyone who has spent time nearby. It is merely footsteps from the place Hermann Hesse wrote masterpieces and painted beautiful splashes of color, recreating the light. Moments here are what most remember when thinking of Montagnola.
It's been a strange end-of-May, and seems a long time since the voices of the students rang in the air, taking up the silence with their chatter. It was indeed a long goodbye. The TASIS seniors had their prom, then a 'posh' dinner, then their commencement. My colleagues had our SoLiTaFo Nights, combined with dinners, a Roast, and far too many "X's last night" events. By my final night in town, I was ready to stop saying goodbye. The intensity of a bubble is difficult to explain - it's like a small town, but of colleagues, not necessarily friends, and of people you may only know for ten long months, not for decades. But, as you do, you know who will be in your life and know who won't. I was not, however, filled with the melancholy of leaving a special place in time, as I have been when leaving other places. I can't see myself missing the stress, the expectations, the clutter that accumulates when working at a boarding school. I hope that the things I will miss I can do via the Internet - banter about writing, exchanging jokes and laughs, seeing photographs - and, if not, that people show their faces somewhere, sometime in the future.Bertani. The GDOT (Get Drunk on TASIS) bevvie of choice. I think I have singlehandedly consumed two cases of this rubbish in the past month alone. There's a shop in Como that sells this for 8 EUR per bottle. It ain't the best wine in the world, but it is (oooh I loathe this term!) drinkable.

So my girlfriend Andrea joined me for a few days in Scotland before heading back to Seattle. Matt was a rockin' tour guide and took us for a day in Edinburgh and a gorgeous walk up The Cobbler near Loch Long. For some reason, it doesn't rain when I'm in Scotland. Matt says that I am global warming. Fine by me, I say - we had a wonderful day of walking. We stopped at the amazing Loch Fyne Oyster Bar - delicious oysters, four types of salmon, mussles, lovely house wine - highly recommend. Andrea left on Friday after a day shopping in Glasgow, where we all shocked to see RELAX and CHOOSE LIFE t-shirts in TopShop and leggings, legwarmers, belted stripy shirts and huge neon colors in all the shops. Even the posh shops. I am mortified that this is back in fashion again. We even saw Jellies and jelly bracelets. Oh. My. God.
So am now up at Matt's mum's, clad in sweats and a sweater as it's freezing, with a day til we go back to TASIS for summer school. I'm looking forward to revisiting the TASIS that I fell in love with in 2003 - frolicking with middle schoolers in the Swiss mountains - and also wondering just how sugar-coated my memories are. We've got a rockin' staff though, and Matt will be there, bagpipes in hand and plenty of NHS sedatives should the kids be too crazy (HA!), so will be a good way to sever the ties and let go for awhile. "Woo" is still simmering in my head, and I'm making periodic adjustments but am so, so anxious to have endless hours to pour into its shaping.
We've been toasting for weeks to New Beginnings. So here's to it.

beauty comes in many ways

So it's nearly June and while things come to an end - classes, the year in Switzerland, saying goodbye to friends - things also begin - my friends had a baby, my life is completely changing. It's comforting to know that change is afoot again - I suppose I revel in change, as I like knowing something new is ahead. It's been a wonderful May - I've had visitors each weekend, my friend Andrea and my parents for two weeks, so all was chaotic yet wonderful. Went to the Borromeo Islands in Lago Maggiore with my parents, which was an amazing weekend. TASIS Arts Festival was last weekend, and I was lucky enough to get two wonderful prints from one of my favourite students today as a thank-you - what a priceless gift! We finished our classes on Friday in a bittersweet moment - many tears, many laughs, and many memories. Having boarding school students for two hours a day is a lot of time to get to know them, and I feel so lucky to have met these kids. They're amazing.
(that's them!)
Tomorrow is our final exam - my last serious 'task' - and I still say that if this place were a day school I would be here forever. The kids are really incredible. I have learned so much from them - from their experiences, their attitudes, their lives - I'm such a lucky chicka to have had them in my life.
So...a week left to take full advantage of these people I've gotten to know this year, some well, some not so well, but all have added something to the way I look at the world. I often wonder of others see this place as writers do - as another way dialogue can be written, another plot twist, another possibility. Probably not. Which is probably best. Writers are all a bit nuts anyway. :)
Welcome to the world, Wallace Lunami Martin Schumacher. As this world is a chaotic mess at times, she decided to join us a month early, and will likely prove to us why eventually. She's gorgeous. Congratulations, Dan and Julia and all Martins and Schumachers!

bloomacious

This is what was awaiting me when I arrived at midnight on Saturday - the rich scent of Wisterias, which are tumbling down the railing to the patio. Sunday morning I awoke and saw the perfect beauty of the flowers and plants Horst has lovingly tended to around his gorgeous garden. No offense Mom, but I've never really been the garden type - I find them nice, but haven't really felt they were essential (note to save myself: my mother has always kept a beautiful garden in Wichita and this insensitivity has nothing to do with my childhood!) ;) I am, however, (and likely with age) beginning to see the light with landscaping well - the shades of green are heavenly, and I felt like a princess grading my papers on the veranda yesterday afternoon in the afternoon light.
Just when I thought Montagnola couldn't get any prettier, it bursts out in colors I've never seen before, from plants I never knew bloomed. I wish everyone could see the intensity of the gardens here. Montagnolans are quite house-proud and do their best to outdo their neighbors with fuller, brighter, longer-lasting flora and fauna. I've never seen anything like it.

Today was a great day - the kids were in good moods, all the faculty had these serene, peaceful looks on their faces, and everyone seemed genuinely happy to see one another. We have 24 more teaching days left, which is frightening and fantastic at the same time - will I have taught them all I can before their next level of English? Have I done too much? Will they hate me come September when they get their butts kicked in their next class?
So spring continues - this time, for real. Winter tires are off the cars, bare legs blind everyone silly, and the girls in their sky-high stilletto sandals have begun romping around the cobbled hills of campus. (It amuses me to no end watching them at around 2pm, sandals in hand, hobbling on aching feet.) It was 27 yesterday and reached 25 today. The locals are saying it'll be the hottest summer on record. Hmm.
The view from a wine glass full of water...note the gorgeous red crane blocking my view (STILL).

spring broke, solitafo, spring break

Spring broke about three weeks ago in a burst of light, fragrance and colors, and all jaded nonsense disintegrated into deep breaths and second looks amid the chaos of this place. Horst's garden that surrounds this lovely cottage began to merge into the most gorgeous shades of green, and me the lucky girl with it just outside my window! Hermann Hesse wrote about spring in Montagnola in numerous books, and I can see why he was so enamored with this place. The tulip trees (above) are my favorite, in this stunning shade of magenta, and some of them in the area are still clinging to their precious buds.

Luckily I had some visitors to show the place off - Matt's sister Jeni came for a few days, then Matt came up for St. Paddy's weekend (more rugby, this time in Mennagio), then my cousin came (bearing iPods, bless her) for nearly a week. I am trying to take full advantage of this place, its amazing location, and the ease of daytrips to Como and Milan. It will all be over far too quickly.

(I'm teaching my kids transitions so theoretically this should seguay into my next topic, SoLiTaFo...)

Spearheaded by the Scariest Man at Tasis (according to the kids), Kaba, SoLiTaFo is a group of about half our faculty members whose sole ambition during the duration of the school year is the following (taken from the SoLiTaFo Creed):

"WHEREAS pesky students and prying parents have heretofore stifled social freedoms, and WHEREAS many good people will be departing on their own private boats in a mere 9 school weeks, and WHEREAS good times with good company has been limited, and BE IT that all 39 of us subscribe to said newfound social urgency, WE HEREBY PROCLAIM the impending arrival of the Social Life Task Force (henceforth iL SoLiTaFo) for the betterment of the under-served and over-worked small cogs and big wheels of the TASIS machinery."

We've planned a Teacher Appreciation Day for April 20, which will include a "No Dress Code Day" sticker the kids can buy for 5 francs. We will all be strictly enforcing dress code on the day, however, and will charge kids 10 francs on the spot. This will go toward SoLiTaFo events, like a bus to drive us around Italian wineries and BBQ necessities. Echoing our college frat party days, t-shirts have been made and will be worn with pride. With many of us leaving next year, this is a great way to help us get through the last stretch.

Which begins after 16 blissful days of no classes, kids, or Tasis-esque madness. I will be galavanting off to Prague with my girlfriend Andrea, then will fly up to Glasgow for the remainder of the time. Prague will be a shock. I lived there in 2001-2, and went back briefly in 2003 for a long weekend, but haven't been back since. Some colleagues have been this year and frequently mentioned the commercialism of the city, the Chloe and Chanel boutiques (gasp! And we were stuck with M&S!), the numerous (!!) BoBags, and the overload of Pinnochios and puppets. I hope the hole-in-the-wall places I used to haunt are still where I remember them. That place changed me in ways I'll probably never fully understand, and it will always be so special as the first place I lived outside my own country. The fun will be interrupted by pangs of nostalgia, I'm sure, especially since our hotel is just a few streets from where I used to live and across from one of the favorite cafes. Sigh.

RIP 2006-7 Jayhawks. At least we made it to the round of 8. And UNC is out, too.

Below, the view from Kaba's garden of the sunset over the Alps.

19,017

It's 16 February – happy almost birthday, Dad – and I'm stuck at 19017 words, where I've been since Tuesday, which means two full days of no writing. It's good though, as I'm missing the story like crazy and can't wait to get back into it, but after I watch Little Britain on BBC Prime as it's a guilty pleasure. As this is the official KP rambling site, here are some uninteresting tidbits.

Whilst driving to and from airports last weekend and this weekend, I heard the following songs on Italian radio: Every Time You Go Away (You Take A Piece of Me with You) by Paul Young, 3 times on 3 different days; Never Surrender by Corey Hart; Go West by the Village People; 3 Bryan Adams songs that no one knows but me as no one else listens to him; Lucky Star by Madonna, 2 times on 2 different days; everything by Queen. One might think the Italians should evolve their radio.

I have taken more plane rides than car rides in 2007. This is not necessarily a good thing. Good carbon offset programs: http://www.climatecare.org/ and http://www.carbonfootprint.com.

It is disgustingly beautiful here now. The sun bursts from the sky every day, gleaming off the lake, confusing the heating systems and flowers. It was warm enough to have class outside this afternoon. It's a bit odd, as we have had perhaps 6 days worthy of gloves and a scarf – compared with our November 4-through-Easter snow in Slovenia last year, it just doesn't seem right.

I leave Sunday morning at 4am for Sicily with 16 12-year-olds and two colleagues, one of whom is on this writing mission with me. It'll be good to have the banter and see if we can keep up with the word count when dealing with seventh grade drama. We were originally hoping to visit a Mafia museum, show the kids Goodfellas and all the Godfather films and teach them how to whack people and become 'made', but the school vetoed that, so instead we're taking them to random ruins and churches and such. I am looking forward to screaming "Get out of the street!" to them in Palermo as we dodge traffic and try not to lose anyone.

Current favourite things: Sise's album; Jacob's Creek Cabernet Shiraz; vanilla tea; power yoga; my friend Dave's hush-hush website (to be shared as soon as possible!); Italian tutoring from one of my students; goat's cheese; Casal Garcia vinho verde

It's now late January, and over 20 months since I wrote on this thing. Pathetic. At the same time, I suppose I've been busy living life away from the keyboard, which is a good thing. I still think these blog things are narcissistic and full of far too much information, but at the same time I've kept up with loads of friends through them. So, there.

Lugano is gorgeous. This is the view from my lounge/kitchen space. Inspiring, ridiculously beautiful, and calms me down every time I see it. So new year's rezzo: start this thing again. Here we go.