Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Talent Night
Last night T was invited by Caoimhe (pronounced Kwiva) to hear her piano recital. We had no idea that the recital itself would be in the most breathtaking little chapel you could ever imagine hidden next to the Torre Guinigi. This girl is at heart a classical dancer, by that I mean that she is very graceful and musical and she practices a lot so it was no real surprise that she was also spectacular as a pianist. Her little sister was given a ridiculously hard piece to play and did a very impressive job as well.



After the pianists had all hit the stage and the sweet but shy music teacher had finished his presentations, it was time for the singers. This was some blog worthy stuff. First of all, the singing teacher was adorable. She was pregnant and wearing a tight fitting Betty Boop t-shirt. She gave a rousing tinkerbell speech about how we had to help bring the magic out of the children by clapping very hard. She spoke fast and rambled a lot in between numbers. She danced, snapped, and clapped along with every child's song and was completely out of breath by the end due to the fetal workout. Especially the dance number to Mamma Mia, boas included, thank you very much. The boys were adorable, they ranged from the Bon Jovi wannabe types to Cher doing James Blunt. Let me rephrase that.  Anyway, all the boys did back up singing for one another. The man who runs the edicola/newspaper kiosk near our house was there for his son who was the most earnest, reluctant little star and who had a natural second hand smoker's scratchiness to his voice that was charming as all get out. Then came the girls. (Sorry in advance, the zoom on the ipod is nonexistent.)



T's first friend here, was one of them. She had some kind of complete misunderstanding that all the afternoons that T was sweating blood trying to get her middle school homework done was just a cover to avoid her. Since she is still in elementary school where the teachers are still mothering and help you to get the homework done and the school is a full day so you come home free as a bird, she has no idea what next year will be like for her. Plus the language of Moldova is much more like Italian than English is so she didn't have as much empathy for T as one would have expected. At some point she stopped saying hello to any of us in the street and openly snubbed T several times. After the show was one of those times. I had to very painfully and awkwardly approach her mother to congratulate her. She did let us crash on her couch one night when we had fleas. And then I bit the bullet and turned around to ask her to help me find her daughter to congratulate her. The girl could not disguise her disdain for me. It was weird. She ate at our house countless times, I bought her tons of presents, she slept here on numerous occasions and has seen me in my pajamas. Nothing. I had to ease the tension by telling her mother that our star must be feeling a bit shy for some reason. She sang Out Here On My Own, by the way.









At the end a male singing teacher came on and gave a speech about how talented the last boy was and how difficult his song would be. This boy was indeed a show stopper. They lyrics, if my understanding of Italian is right, are I can't make love without you.  Plus also he was wearing John Travolta's old pants and everyone knows that can help you go up at least an octave.





"If you're like me you have trouble with the idea that life is a JOURNEY and tend to think about it as a series of final exams that you might fail." -- Elizabeth Gilbert
 

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