I recently participated with the church in a painting project. We painted the entry way and third floor of an elementary school that is one block from the church. This project began three years ago when a missionary working in Trieste at the time made friends with someone who worked at the school and some parents or children attending there. Since then the church has been able to help the school paint one level of the three level school each summer. This summer a nine person team from Illinois came to help paint the school so the work went really fast. Some parents came by with their kids to help paint as well. One dad, who came with his daughter a few times, actually brought us delicious cake.....twice.
The primary contact between the school and the church is a wonderful lady, who is super fun and super kind. She was at the school painting with us and organizing stuff pretty much all the time. All of the team members from Illinois got farmed out to different people in the church so that they would have someplace to stay and so that they could build relationships with the people they stayed with. This lady isn't even part of the church but she took I two people and showed them all around the city telling everyone they were here new children. She also took the who team to see a few interesting things around the city, which she is very knowledgeable about. After the painting project was finished we all got to celebrate her birthday with her.
Two of the team members stayed at Ambra's house with me. I rode the bus with them and we all ate dinner with Ambra and Robert and sometimes hung out watching football (as in soccer). I showed them my favorite gelato shop and one afternoon we went to see a cathedral and some Roman ruins together. I spent a lot of time with the team while they were here. I pretty much always ate lunch with them and I rode this really old school tram with them as well.
Two of the team members stayed at Ambra's house with me. I rode the bus with them and we all ate dinner with Ambra and Robert and sometimes hung out watching football (as in soccer). I showed them my favorite gelato shop and one afternoon we went to see a cathedral and some Roman ruins together. I spent a lot of time with the team while they were here. I pretty much always ate lunch with them and I rode this really old school tram with them as well.
Painting the school was really fun. I don't normally get the chance to work with my hands that much. It's nice to get the instant gratification of seeing the wall in front of you go from white to blue. Some parts of the job were more fun than others. For instance, painting is more fun than taping, painting with a roller is more fun than cutting edges, and painting designs is more fun than painting solid color. Somehow whenever there was a job that looked like no fun, like scrubbing the dripped paint of the base boards, it would somehow become my job and then I would get kind of obsessive over it and refuse to do anything else until I felt like it really couldn't get better. It was good because doing the jobs I really wanted to moonwalk away from, reminded me that I wasn't there because I actually really enjoy painting. I was there to "Do Work!" meaning I needed to choose to do whatever needed to get done instead of whatever looked fun.
Some of the days we were at the school painting the preschoolers were still in session on the first floor. The first day went to start looking at what we needed to do, there were a few kids in the play ground. One of them was a little girl who kept staring at us, so I waved at her, smiled and said "Ciao!" Several days later, I was helping Adrian paint a little square orange. When he finished his square, he really wanted to keep painting, but there wasn't anymore squares to paint (actually the square I gave him to paint had already been painted by someone else, so I apologize to whoever created the original masterpiece, but the kid needed something to do) and he was starting to cross over the line between being productive and being crazy. The person who was actually in charge of childcare got back from lunch and I wanted him to go and play with her outside, before I became responsible for the kid getting paint everywhere. I went down to the playground with him for a little bit, and the same girl was there. She ran over to me and started chatting away and then she paused to wait for a response. I didn't know what I was supposed to say, so I just said, "Sucsa, mi no parle Italiano." She gave me this priceless look and I am 80% sure she said, " what do you mean you don't speak Italian, you just spoke in Italian." So I just pointed to my hand and I think I said, "orange paint," but I might have actually used the other word for orange as in the fruit. Then a bunch of kids gathered around me and the girl said something about me and orange paint. I said hi to them and then they all just stared at me like a zoo animal and then wandered off.
Another day a teacher who was an older man was walking down the hall and I waved to him and said, "Boungiorno!" He said something back to me, but I had no idea what he said. Seriously the scariest part about trying to use another language is not fear of messing it up but fear that the person I say something too will actually think I know Italian. I said, "Sucsa, mi no parle Italiano." He said something to me again and I didn't know what to do so I just repeated myself and laughed and then he laughed and Elio said something to him and he when the downstairs. As soon as he left I asked Elio, "What was that guy saying?" and he said, "That guy was saying 'I am old you have to talk louder.'" Awkwardest conversation ever. Anyway I say the same guy a few days later. I was walking somewhere with the two people who stayed at Ambra's house and we stopped to pickup some gelato which we were eating over by a Roman theater that's in the middle of the city. That guy walked by and recognized us and said hello. He talked to us for a couple minutes in Italian and we were able to understand a significant amount of what he was talking about, since we were talking about things in our immediate context like the theater and the weather.
Some of the days we were at the school painting the preschoolers were still in session on the first floor. The first day went to start looking at what we needed to do, there were a few kids in the play ground. One of them was a little girl who kept staring at us, so I waved at her, smiled and said "Ciao!" Several days later, I was helping Adrian paint a little square orange. When he finished his square, he really wanted to keep painting, but there wasn't anymore squares to paint (actually the square I gave him to paint had already been painted by someone else, so I apologize to whoever created the original masterpiece, but the kid needed something to do) and he was starting to cross over the line between being productive and being crazy. The person who was actually in charge of childcare got back from lunch and I wanted him to go and play with her outside, before I became responsible for the kid getting paint everywhere. I went down to the playground with him for a little bit, and the same girl was there. She ran over to me and started chatting away and then she paused to wait for a response. I didn't know what I was supposed to say, so I just said, "Sucsa, mi no parle Italiano." She gave me this priceless look and I am 80% sure she said, " what do you mean you don't speak Italian, you just spoke in Italian." So I just pointed to my hand and I think I said, "orange paint," but I might have actually used the other word for orange as in the fruit. Then a bunch of kids gathered around me and the girl said something about me and orange paint. I said hi to them and then they all just stared at me like a zoo animal and then wandered off.
Another day a teacher who was an older man was walking down the hall and I waved to him and said, "Boungiorno!" He said something back to me, but I had no idea what he said. Seriously the scariest part about trying to use another language is not fear of messing it up but fear that the person I say something too will actually think I know Italian. I said, "Sucsa, mi no parle Italiano." He said something to me again and I didn't know what to do so I just repeated myself and laughed and then he laughed and Elio said something to him and he when the downstairs. As soon as he left I asked Elio, "What was that guy saying?" and he said, "That guy was saying 'I am old you have to talk louder.'" Awkwardest conversation ever. Anyway I say the same guy a few days later. I was walking somewhere with the two people who stayed at Ambra's house and we stopped to pickup some gelato which we were eating over by a Roman theater that's in the middle of the city. That guy walked by and recognized us and said hello. He talked to us for a couple minutes in Italian and we were able to understand a significant amount of what he was talking about, since we were talking about things in our immediate context like the theater and the weather.
We finished painting the school early and we were planning on celebrating at the church. The director of the school let us celebrate at the school instead and invited the parents and the teachers to come and look at the finished school. We grilled sausages and played a parody movie that the team from Illinois made about painting the school. Every year a squiggly design has been pained on the staircase. This year since we were painting the top floor, a head was painted by the library to turn the squiggly line into a bookworm. Originally, the school was skeptical about letting a church paint the building. It didn't make sense to them for other people to want to help them. After watching the church come and paint for three years, the school is beginning to allow a relationship to form with the church. The director of the school asked Elio to share with the parents who came to the party why the church came to paint the school. We might've painted the top floor this year, but hopefully it's just the beginning of a long and good relationship.