It has been quite some time since I’ve written, I know, but it has not been because of lack of desire, rather, lack of personal Zen time.
March finished for me with two days of IB oral exams for my thirteen candidates this year.  As usual, immediately following the exams on the 31st, I organized the annual vernissage. This is when the exam exhibits are officially open to the public for the afternoon. 
Music floated in the air and “bubbly” was available to one and all.  Having a large group of international students I decided to do something a little different for the refreshments.  I asked each parent if they would prepare finger food indicative of their culture or part of the world that they came from.

They responded more than generously to my request.  Incredible “goodies” from Mexico, Canada, Kenya, Japan, Korea, Brazil, India, Egypt and Italy made their way to the exhibition.  You should have seen the trays and trays and trays of exotic food that arrived.  It really was mind blowing.  It was an incredibly delicious artistic and culinary success.  

My students put on a “good show” and I am really proud of each and every one of them.  They were a great group of kids and it is sad that these two years of sharing, bonding, tears, joys, lots of self-discovery and hard work are now over.  I’ve promised them that after their graduation at the end of May, as custom dictates, they will all be invited to chez-moi for dinner.  Am not quite sure how I am going to work that one out right now for I don’t think I even have thirteen forks and knives, but, that will somehow resolve itself.
Immediately following the vernissage on Wednesday the exam exhibits needed to be dismounted and I then had two days to recuperate before I began to travel the Mediterranean area to examine.   I flew off on Saturday morning to begin my work first in Cyprus, the birthplace of Venus.
I was once again invited by Giulia and Petros to be their houseguest while examining in Nicosia.  I readily accepted for I love them both, their family and their incredible “Gone with the Wind” mansion which they have so artfully built for themselves in the center of the city - a true “state of the arts” affair.  Plus, Giulia was true to her promise and had a large bowl of homemade humus and a bottle of ouzo waiting for me upon my arrival.  She knew that I would need both.
There was a special added attraction this year and that was that Giulia’s mother, who I call Dona Angela, was there on one of her frequent visits. She is a lovely woman and a fantastic cook who I had already met in Rome many years before.  She’s a great aid to Giulia and strangely enough, gets on marvelously well with her son-in-law.  In fact, he always encourages her to extend her visits.
Time was very limited for me throughout all of my examining.  This year I had   a larger number of students to interview at all of the schools than last year and tons of reports to write that private time was down to a bare minimum.  Add to that the fact that while in Nicosia, Giulia and a friend of hers, Vlasta, were in the midst of putting the final touches on an exhibition they had organized of their recent works which had its opening the evening before I left. 

Even though my hours and days were counted I did make it a point to take an afternoon off and go to a real Turkish hamam.   I had discovered it on my trip there last year but never had the time to use it.  It is, without doubt, a relic left over from the Ottoman Empire days.  It is located near the occupied part of the city and has been recently renovated to its 18th century splendor.  It is complete with domed ceilings inset with small circular pieces of thickly colored glass, which makes the internal light quiver strangely and is extremely suggestive.  It was everything I had expected a Turkish bath to be and then some. 

You first entered into a large and rather dark hexagonal shaped room with one small light source in the center of the domed ceiling.  Everything has been constructed out of a lightly colored local stone.  Placed around the walls on platforms were positioned canopied beds draped in billowy lush curtains with huge Turkish cushions.  It was here you would change your clothes and rest from time to time between excursions into the steam room.

In the center of the room was a large and elegant high table where diverse teas were constantly being brewed and where you could help yourself to as much or as little as you liked.  My favorite was the cinnamon.  There was also an abundance of thinly sliced oranges to munch on.   Wonderfully refreshing.

This room led to the shower and bath area before you actually entered the steam room proper.  The steam room was a “trip” in itself.  Small vaulted cubicles were symmetrically laid out around a large centrally domed round room with large stone slabs where you could lie or sit if you so desired.  It all seemed part of a large and intricate Arabic mosaic design.

The only light source was natural and came from either the domed or vaulted ceilings inset with colored glass discs.  Numerous small gurgling fountains were placed in strategic places.  The sound of the falling water was soothing to the soul and their cold waters resuscitated my steaming body.  Droplets of moisture dripped from the ceiling and gently cascaded down the walls, fountains gurgled and exotic smells whiffed through the air.  It was glorious and if I am invited to return next year to examine it will definitely be on my “list of things to do again”.  What pure hedonistic pleasure.

Not enough time was spent with Giulia and her family but we have decided to remedy that next year by perhaps taking an excursion out of the city one day to explore some of the coastline area.  Cyprus is famous for its beaches and numerous archaeological sites.  Next year this venue needs to be explored.

Giulia makes me feel comfortably part of her family and dinners, late evening chats with Dona Angela over a bowl of spaghetti al’aglio, olio e pepperoncino, first ever conversations with quickly growing curly haired little Dimitri or beautiful smiles from red headed Carolina and Elena all helped to make this a very special trip. 

Almost a week later my sojourn to Nicosia came to an end.  It went by all too quickly and before I knew it Petros was driving me early one cool morning to the seaport city of Larnaca, about an hours drive south west of the capitol, to catch my flight back to Rome.

I was in Rome for Easter Sunday and Monday and then the following day flew off to continue my examining first in Budapest, then Sarajevo and Mostar.  I had never been to this part of the world before and I was excited about the possibilities this new adventure might summon up.

Budapest and Sarajevo, unfortunately, are mere blears in my mind today for two reasons; firstly, because the large number of students I needed to examine did not allow me any free time to wander and secondly, because somewhere in the skies between Venice and Budapest I caught a bug and by the time I finally “hit” Mostar I was feeling pretty miserable - coughing and sneezing with a nose that didn’t want to stop running “big time”. 

I did, however, get my revenge, for while waiting for my return flight from Budapest to Rome I took advantage of their duty free, which was exceptionally well stocked.  I stored up on Hungarian sausages, duck and goose pate’ and, of course, their celebrated marzipan Mozart balls.

Mostar was an incredible experience for me in more ways than one.  It was quite difficult to get to and fortunately the school in Mostar sent a driver to pick me up in Sarajevo and take me back by car.  It seemed like we drove and drove for hours through an incredible snow capped mountain range until we finally arrived at Mostar, which was nestled at the bottom of a beautiful river valley. 

Mostar was once a sort of Istanbul, in the sense that it was a meeting point between East and West.  The word Mostar, itself, means bridge keeper and it is here that the famous Mostar Bridge with its tax collectors once collected tariffs from those crossing from East to West and vice-versa.  It was completely destroyed in the recent war but since has been beautifully reconstructed.

Even today Muslim and Greek Orthodox traditions coexist side by side but you still can feel the tensions that exist between these two communities.  The cuisine is a beautiful blend of Mid-Eastern and Slavic and the people are generous and kind and have great hope in tomorrow.

I had never visited a war ravaged city such as this before and it was an eye opener for me.  It was a sad reminder of man’s inhumanity to man.   Walking down the streets today the bullet riddled buildings and empty shells of burned out structures are clear evidence of the disaster that once passed this way almost twenty years ago.

My examining at the United World College was a truly unique experience.  This is a semi-privately funded institution that brings together highly motivated junior and senior high school students from diverse creeds and cultures and has them follow the IB curriculum for two years. This is the first time that many of them have lived away from their hometowns, families, and friends.  In their diversity, there is one common thread that unites all of them and that is that they have all been given scholarships on merit to come to Mostar from war torn or disaster areas in the world.

A very good example of this would be one of the students I examined from Baghdad.  He was very well prepared for his exam, had learned to speak English in about six months, had mastered and was able to use a very sophisticated computer program – 3D Studio Max (which is used by Hollywood) – found himself in a room living with a Hindi, a Buddhist, a Jew and a Catholic, and for the first time had to wash his own clothes and cook for himself if he wanted to survive.  Samer also had a very strong desire to become an architect.

At the closure of his exam I asked him why he wanted to become an architect.
He looked me straight in the face and said that he wanted to do very well at these exams because he wanted to go to a good university in the States and become a very good architect so that he could return to his destroyed Baghdad and help to make it once again the beautiful city that it once was.  He left the room and tears came to my eyes.  I gave him the maximum of votes.

Each and every one of the students I examined here all told me in one way or another how grateful they were to the UWC for having given them this incredible opportunity.  I have heard “through the grapevine” that because of dwindling funds next year’s scholarship students will be cut in half, so, if you happen to know of any philanthropist who believes in education, please tell him or her about the United World College in Mostar.

My return to Rome was long but relatively painless.  My cold or whatever bug I had picked up did not want to give up and a trip to the doctor was in the immediate offing.  She gave me antibiotics, which I needed to take over a five-day period.  That seemed simple, direct and to the point.

Having been away for a bit and out of contact with the world I was hit by a barrage of messages upon my return.  The earthquake in the Abruzzi region looked devastating with the main city of Aquila being almost completely destroyed.  My neighbors told me that the quakes were even felt in Rome but no damage occurred here.  There was another quake only the other day, which was, centered about 10 kilometers directly under the Angel Castle.  Again, there was no apparent damage but the jolt brought a bit of fear to those living in the center.

The saddest news awaiting me was that of the death of a dear friend in NYC.  Susanne had been in and out of my life for almost the past 50 years and it is not going to be easy to accept the reality that she is no longer a telephone call away.

After about four days of recuperating I was off to do my last examining stint.  This assignment was a “piece of cake”.  I was off on Thursday morning to the International School of Florence.  I say a piece of cake because it was a comfortable, known situation to me – no more airplanes, airports, long waits and above all no more angry custom officials.  I actually think that the boarder police in Bosnia-Herzegovina go through special training to learn how to scowl and throw menacing glances.

I am very familiar with Florence and have a couple of long time friends living there.  Thursday evening Horace invited me to a small dinner party he was hosting.  He lives directly in front of Palazzo Pitti and is known for his epicurean capabilities.  Horace recently turned 90 and all I have to say is that if I even make it that far, I will never, ever be in as good a shape as he is in – both mentally and physically.

The next day I essentially locked myself up in my hotel room all day, as I needed to go through the documentation the students had prepared for their examinations on Saturday.   I needed to read through hundreds and hundreds of pages, take notes on everything and begin to formulate questions for the candidate’s oral exam.

All went well on Saturday and I even finished earlier than expected.  The art teacher was a real dear and about three quarters of the way through ordered out Chinese for a quick luncheon break.  The school is located immediately outside of the city in the beautiful rolling Tuscan hills and she took me up to one of the top terraces where we enjoyed superb spring rolls and a breath-taking panorama - a great Zen moment. 

It was late afternoon and I had not even had time to wander much around Florence so I decided that it was either now or never as I was leaving for Rome the next morning.  I had a great desire to surround myself with Renaissance art and decided to try my luck at getting into the Uffizi Galleries.  That was a bad idea.

By the time I got there, there was a two-hour wait to get in.  I love the Uffizi, but no way was I going to wait for two hours.  The afternoon was very pleasant so I decided to stroll around the city for a while.  I convinced myself that I deserved to treat myself nicely so I began to walk in the direction of the Duomo. 

I had no intention of battling through the hoards of tourist groups to get into the Duomo but rather to make a quick first stop at an incredible pastry shop facing the piazza, Gilli’s.  They are world famous for their Tuscan pastries. 

There were two lovely women working behind the counters and we struck up an immediate “feeling”.  They kept giving me things to try, which made it even more difficult for me to decide what I really wanted.  About a half an hour later I staggered out of the shop with a big bag of goodies – a couple of round pan forte’ (they keep forever) and a number of bags of fig, orange, lemon and almond cookies.

I was on a roll of self-indulgence and decided to cross over Ponte Vecchio to see if my favorite Italian designer Missoni shop was still there.  Fortunately, or rather unfortunately for my bank account, it was.  I was eyeing up a couple of beautiful lightweight summer sweaters but finally decided upon five pairs of socks instead.  I love the combination of colors and simple designs that Missoni uses.  The colors are happy and fresh and the craftsmanship is excellent.  I am still wearing a pair of socks I bought there about ten years ago.  Hard to believe, huh?

It was time to bring closure to the day before heading back to my hotel and in what better fashion could I do this than to go to “Celestino’s” for dinner.  I discovered Celestino’s about thirty years ago and have been going back there ever since.  They specialize in Tuscan fare and it is still superb.  Their meats, soups and pastas are out of this world.  My favorite, however, are their large snails a’la Bourguignon prepared in laurel and white wine.  I truly think that they have the best snails in all of Italy.  I had a dozen just for old time’s sake.

I returned to Rome towards the end of the month and immediately got to work and finished up all of my reports, grading and got everything off to Cardiff as quickly as possible.  Once done, I felt like a tremendous burden had been lifted from my shoulders.  The fog was truly beginning to lift.

April was definitely interesting, but exhausting and I am really only now beginning to feel my old self again.  No more trains, planes, airports and a different hotel room every three days.

All of April, well, really most of the winter has been extremely rainy, overcast and cold this year but only a few days ago summer arrived with a vengeance.  The weathermen are predicting a “torrid” summer and I have the suspicion that they are right.

I am slowly getting back into things and have begun to work on the two large oil commissions I recently received and need to finish by the end of June.  School continues until June 19th but for me it is basically over.  Now that my seniors are gone I have only about half of my class load. 

Summer plans are still up in the air.  Hopefully I will be spending time with my wonderful Greeks on a lovely island near the sea, but again, nothing has been written in cement.

I’d like to try and rent my apartment mid-July mid-Aug. and if you should by chance know of anyone interested and trustworthy please pass this information on to them.

And, believe it or not, but my updated website is “almost there” and soon you should be receiving an invitation to view it with all of my most recent works.

Be well, enjoy your summer if we don’t speak  before and tanti baci from the Eternal City……..