Una Scia di Colore

At some point I should probably attempt to explain the specifics of our field-trip across Reggio Emilia province and our specific stop at the brand new Italian National Childcare Center there. That story would require a lot of time on my hands and oodles of internet connectivity. Let me just suffice to say that at the end of being irrevocably lost due to a series of European travel circles over-run by streaming, menacing, steam rolling semi-trucks on the loose, a brand new European cell phone that suddenly didn't work in Italy and several other extreme"Murphy" oh-you've-got-to-be-kidding me specifics, our outing to observe in Reggio and me perform for their Italian children turned into a remake of Chevy Chase's European Family Vacation run awry & amok.

Short version. We, in our rental car, got separated from our caravan of vehicles including our host van of Vicenza teachers being led by our native Italian-connection in a jeep at the helm. Allen & I ended up spending the bulk of the morning attempting to get ourselves & our rental car un-lost all while my heart was sinking. Our getting ourselves from un-lost to found, involved our making an impromptu visit to a completely random village preschool in the provicne, in a totally random village square but alas no one there spoke any words of English. When we had determined that we were indeed completely separated from our crew, we had parked in the village square in an effort to find a payphone as directed by the gate keepers of the Fiat factory. I then followed the laughter of the children from the town square of our lostness -- to find the spot of the laughter's origination. The preschool teachers then sent us on to the nearby elementary school thru a series of charade-like pantomime motions and a lot of pointing & some subdued laughter. The elementary school had a teacher with some English phrases who loaned us her cell phone. We were then able to connect their Italian speaking receptionist to our Italian speaking Vicenza tour guide..... several hand-drawn maps and some more patience, an additional stop at a bicycle fix-it shop once on the road while following the 'map' and 'low & behold' only a couple of hours later we rejoined the tour already in progress. [I don't know if if I've ever received such an enthusiastic response for just walking into a room. To say that they were glad to see us is something of an extreme understatement. Sigh. No one had to contact any embassies. LOL.]

I got there as all were observing the "scia of colore" mural of feet-painting posted on the wall. I learned that 'scia' translated as the 'trail' that is left..... as in a trail in the water, left by the waves of a motor boat, or the trail left in the sky of the passing plane thru the clouds. I love the documenting of the toddler feet painting experience, with the very expressive photographs set into the midst of the painting itself. The photographs documenting the process of the work are as much a part of the art as the painting itself.

I have a feeling that we left a scia of hilarity in the wake of our morning's adventure across the hills and vales of Reggio. They may indeed remember us and our trail of charades. I gave the Italian speaking grand-mother receptionist at the elementary school a copy of my Kweezletown DVD. The English speaking, cell phone lending teacher earned a copy of my first picture book. Their help was immeasurable.

Moral of the story? When in doubt? When lost beyond all hope? When things are looking rather bleak? Follow the laughter of the children.