On meeting Giovanna.

I like Giovanna. Did so right from the moment I finally met her. On Sunday. In the flesh.  At the airport. In Cagliari. She’s a dear friend of my Italian true love. And any friend of my true love’s is a friend of mine. Automatically.  I like the way she picks friends. Already, I know Giovanna. In intimate ways. Yes, personal things.  With true friends, I don’t like to waste time. Giovanna qualifies as a true friend. Not long ago, she was a total stranger.  Now I’m feeling like I’ve known Giovanna for a long, long time. Yet, there’s so much more to know. That’s the exotic part of friendships. Always discovering something new. And thrilling. Giovanna is an Italian. A Sardinian. Like my true love. But Giovanna also could pass for Irish. Especially when she makes music. With her guitar. With her beautiful voice.  And with an Irish band composed entirely of Italians. I’ve listened to them play. A recording. And believe me, they could pass for Irish. She sings in Irish, too. With a bit of a brogue.  She speaks good English. Little wonder. She teaches English. In an Italian middle school.  My true love and Giovanna met when they were teen-agers. At the university. They used to teach in the same town. Carbonia. For eight years. For one year in the same school. Now Giovanna is in Cagliari, Sardinia’s capitol city. An hour’s drive from Carbonia. My true love and Giovanna maintain frequent phone contact. I listen in. Not fully understanding the Italian they speak.  But I can tell by the tone and the smiles and the laughter that they are good for each other. Of course, when the three of us are together, we chat in English.  A pure delight. For me.  Makes my day. Lifts my spirits. Makes me become acquainted with the finer things in life.  Good conversation.  Serious. And otherwise.  Good humor. And insights about the Italian way of life. For almost two days, I’ve savored their presence together.  I’ve been on a week-long trip. With my true love. In the south of Italy.  In places called Puglia, Matera, Bari, Alberobello. You’ll hear more about it. In upcoming posts. But I start with the way the trip ended.  Meeting Giovanna. Maybe that’s the most significant event. Certainly, of  the week.  And here’s the most significant thing about Giovanna. She’s in love. With life. –Jim Broede