Home Sweet Home

The highly anticipated call from the Navy housing office arrived last Tuesday. There is a policy that has been enforced since 2008 referencing "direct assignment" aka if you move to Naples and there is base housing available for you, you must take it. Ben and I had moved here with the intention of living on base for the first year or two and then moving off. This time it worked in reverse for us.
Upon moving here in March we sat through an area orientation that basically scared the daylights out of us telling us that if we moved out in town the chances of us getting our home broken into were really high. We were then told the day after that there was nothing available for us on base so we had to live in town. How do you like that?

We selected our home in beautiful Posillipo after seeing about 15 places, zero of which had potential except for this one. As you all know, it is tiny and the trek up 107 stairs every day is not highly appealing but we loved it and made the best of our one man kitchen.

The second part of the Direct Assignment policy: if there is nothing available for you, you must live in town until something does become available. After a minimum of four months in town, you are able to break your lease and the government will completely fund your move back to base. If you decline it and choose to move back there later on, you will have to pay for your own move as well as wait for any housing to be available and there was no guarantee of a timeframe. By the way, keep in mind that we are in Italy. Renting your own moving truck and giving your guy friends a six pack to move your things doesn't work here. Not only because of the truck rental situation but also because it is darn near impossible to find anyone in the world to move furniture and boxes up and down 10 flights of stairs for all of the six packs in Europe.

Back to our phone call. We received a call, literally the first working day after our four month minimum in town was met. The housing manager informed us that A. There was something available for us. B. It was not available for us to see C. We would have to give our landlord two weeks notice and D. We had to make our decision within 48 hours. But, oh, no pressure.

The one positive part of the housing rep's call was that the unit was a newer unit. Another feature that is very rare among the units on the Navy base. I decided to do some investigating and dragged my friend Jen over to the place. I figured that if we couldn't see the actual place we could at least see what was around it. Sooooo....we walked over and lo and behold the cleaners were inside getting it cleaned up. We poked around and looked through the windows- and I forgot to mention that this place is on the FIRST floor. That means no stairs at all.- and saw that the living area alone was probably the size of my bedroom, living room, and kitchen, the kitchen was massive, and the two extra guest rooms were a good size. This bodes much better for those of you who actually decide to come visit. :) Then, as we rounded the bend Jen gasped and I had to see what she was looking at. I looked inside the window and saw a massive walk in closet. That about sealed the deal for me. Just kidding. Although I have to say that I am looking forward to spending plenty of time in that closet because I could practically make it an extra bedroom for myself. No more ugly Ikea wardrobes from the base housing department!

In reality, this was a very, very, very difficult decision for us. Were we willing to trade our view of Capri and Sorrento (a full water view, I might add) for life in suburbia among Navy wives and nothing to do in our area? We had to put alot of thought into it and spent time making a pros/cons list, playing devil's advocate, listening to comments from the peanut gallery (more specifically, people who thought we were crazy for even entertaining the thought of living on "Alcatraz"), and really figuring out what would be best for us over the course of the next two and a half years. Because once you're there you cannot move off.

My Mom always tells me that everything always unfolds in the way that God has intended for us. The night before our 48 hours were up it started to storm. Thunder, lightning, and the whole shebang. It honestly sounded like the screens were about to fly off the hinges and the wind howled through the windows. That, along with my current bout of insomnia, made me realize that the weather is not always going to be fine and dandy in Posillipo. That two months out of the year it pours here and that for a good two additional months it is gloomy and somewhat miserable. Who wants to look out the window much less venture downtown in the middle of winter? I can only imagine how much Ben's road rage (which he has tamed extremely well) would grow driving to and from work every day in the middle of the rain. Or how difficult it would be for him to find a quiet place in our apartment to study as he starts his MBA program at the end of September. Or how not fun it would be for me to leave the apartment to go anywhere on a bus in the middle of winter. Talk about isolation. Why prolong the move and live unsettled for who knows how long until we do decide to make the move? Once something is actually available and the chances of it being new are very slim.

Without trying to overdramatize, I can honestly say that it broke our hearts a little to call the housing office and accept the offer. Knowing that we will no longer be eavesdropping on our Italian neighbor's conversations (not that I knew what they were saying, I just liked hearing them next door), chatting with our chicken shop owner friends downstairs, shopping in the Salumerias (salami/cured meats shops), watching the Italians convene in the piazza outside on Saturday and Sunday, and hopping on the bus to get to the center of downtown Naples is not easy. I may even miss the staring that Neapolitans like to do when I talk. But I can say that Ben and I were extremely blessed to have the opportunity to live the full Italian experience for the past five months. We made the most of life in Posillipo and were proud to call it our home.

We would never have been able to make the Italian friends that we've made, stop and talk to the locals, learn our way around the public transportation system, and sit on our terrace enjoying the sunset with a glass of wine if it weren't for this opportunity. It's given me the ability to learn more Italian and the confidence to venture out by myself. I've loved every minute here and we know that we will leave with plenty of fond memories of life in our Italian town.

On the other hand there will be no regrets when we can turn up the heat as high as we want during the winter and speak with whomever we want, whenever we want, in English!  We are looking forward to a little piece of home.

--Fast Forward to Moving Day--
The last two weeks sped by and "packing up day" finally arrived. It was gray and gloomy outside when we woke up, it matched our mood perfectly. It's humorous to think about how different the packing process was this time vs. the experience in San Diego. The three movers knocked on the door, breathless of course, came in with their boxes and surveyed the place. Tony, the manager in charge, spoke excellent English and they got to work immediately. Instead of carefully wrapping each and every item up as they did back home, they literally places everything in drawers directly into boxes. Quite frankly some of the items that the movers back home wrapped meticulously (a toothbrush holder, really?) was a waste of time and these ones were all about getting the job done as fast as possible so that they could enjoy the rest of their afternoon. Tony requested a radio while explaining that they got into a squabble on the way here and had to deal with some silence on the car ride over so they were in need of some music to "avoid the tension in the room." I couldn't help but laugh at that and handed him our ipod speaker. Ben and I got to listen to some groovy Italian rock in the beginning followed by Jay Z and Red Hot Chili Peppers. Quite an interesting selection but nevertheless entertaining.

The movers took a smoke break on our terrace and I went outside to check on them. One of the movers asked me a question in rapid Neapolitan (keep in mind, I'm starting to understand Italian pretty well but once they start with this Neapolitan business it all goes out the window) and Tony translated for him, asking, "He wants to know, Signora, how you could leave this for the Support Site?" This question did not strike me by surprise because A. We've been asking ourselves the same question for the past five months- should we stay, should we go, blah, blah, blah and B. Every Italian looks at me like I have three
heads when I tell them I'm leaving Posillipo to go to Gricignano. We all know that they are not the most practical when it comes to decision making (it's a common fact that the Italian culture is all about being passionate and spontaneous) so it's easy to understand why they think I'm crazy for leaving the most beautiful neighborhood in Naples. I responded to his question by making a pregnancy gesture and didn't even need to explain myself. It registered immediately that in no way, shape, or form can anyone pregnant walk up and down those stairs every day, no less carry a child up there. Not that we plan on it any time soon at all, but we will be here for three years and can't take that chance. And when he saw the kitchen, you could see that he was starting to see the bits and pieces of the puzzle.

And wow, it felt like Christmas bringing boxes down from the crawl space! It was like opening our wedding presents all over again because there was so much up there that we haven't seen in 8 months, much less been able to use. Knowing that we can pull these items out and use them at our convenience with our AMERICAN outlets in our apartment will be very, very nice. Now the question is, do we have enough to fill all this space? The answer is definitely no.

Our polleria friends and the owner of the mini mart downstairs were definitely not happy when we told them we were leaving. Max, who Ben sees every day and spends alot of time chatting with, was very sad. I told him we would come visit him every week (you better believe I'll be spending the majority of my time taking the bus to come downtown!) but he shook his head and gave me a hug saying "But you my veep, I see you every day!." Veep stands for "VIP, very important person," because he always jokes that we are his VIP, don't ask me why. :) Probably because he sees that I drag countless friends to come downtown and visit me, in my avoidance of going to Gricignano, to enjoy downtown.

Anyway, to make a long story short, we are moving. We, or rather I, had to be dragged off of living on base in the beginning, happy with my comfort zone and little America, to living off and then am now resigning myself to the fact that we are moving out of town to move back on and convincing myself that it's a good thing. I guess you could say that I am very sentimental once I find my security blanket, as is my husband. Funny though, I would never in a million years have thought that I would be the one to make that final decision to accept our offer and move. Poor Ben has so much going on with starting his MBA that moving at this second was the last thing he wanted to do. Can you blame him? Sometimes you've just got to just go with what's practical and not necessarily what's favorable. But I do have to say that we don't want to hear about how our favorite spots (all downtown, of course) are only a drive away because it is nothing like waking up in the morning and being instantaneously happy because the sun is shining and the water is so close that you feel like you're on a cruise ship. Or hearing an accordionist play "O Sole Mio" outside our terrace like they did today (I felt like this was such a treat on our last full day here :) ). On the other hand, there is nothing like being able to hop on a bus to get to and from work easily every day, put ALL of your stuff away in real, built in closets (haven't seen those in awhile) and pressing that magical little button on your dishwasher. Ben has happily retired his drying rack and dish rag and I can tell you that there is not one single ounce of sentimentality there. I am also thrilled that he is going to be able to resign his daily road rage during his commute and hand me the keys to the car! Not to mention that we feel incredibly spoiled to have 1900 sq feet to play with when families of four have to fit in the same amount of space! We are very lucky.

So, everyone, thanks for listening and being supportive! I will be thrilled to post pictures of our second and final Italian home!