A quick update for 2018 - 2019

Sorry I haven't written in a long time. To fill you in, I'll just cut and paste something that I posted on our family facebook group. Here it is!

Hello family,

We want to give you all an update on where we are, since there are a lot of you that we haven't been able to talk to for a while. We got Christmas cards from some of you giving us an update of your lives, and we were grateful and wanted to share our own update.

We were blessed with the opportunity to go back to Italy to visit family for Christmas. It was the perfect moment, because we bought our tickets very cheaply by buying them a year in advance, and because it was the year in which all of Giada's aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents from all over Italy and other parts of Europe were all together under one roof for christmas. It was so great to see people that we hadn't seen in over three years. While we were there, we even got to see the Rome temple from the outside, although we missed the open house by two weeks. If you want to see pictures, they are here. https://1drv.ms/f/s!AtOky3rv8AwRapKOtwo0ytzbjFA

I am still in law school. I'm starting my fourth of six semesters, so I'm more than half way done. In addition to a 17 credit semester, I started an internship at the Ohio Supreme Court, in the Language Services department. Right now I'm working on a training for state judges, to help them deal with foreign-language evidence submitted to the court while keeping it legally within the bounds of the federal and state rules of evidence. In my spare time (haha) I'm still writing and working on genealogy.

Giada is still working at a Catholic medical clinic, as a medical assistant. She does phlebotomy work, rooms patients, takes vital signs, and other gross medical stuff. Last year, she was given a transfer to a clinic in the same town where we live, much closer to home, which is fantastic. In her free time, she's working on her mentoring and life coaching business, and hopes to have a website up and running this year.

Last week we got hit with the epicenter of the polar vortex, and we reached the coldest temperatures in Ohio history. At one point we reached negative forty, with wind so cold and strong that exposed skin can develop frostbite within ten minutes. Pretty crazy. The house we live in is very old and drafty. Luckily, Giada's coworker's husband came over and together we used caulk, styrofoam, plastic, and duct tape to fill all the holes we could around the house.

We're enjoying working hard in our church callings, and with our ministering assignments. I'm a counselor in the elder's quorum, and Giada is in the young women presidency. We're going through the church's self reliance course, which is very useful, and which we recommend to everyone who wants to learn how to be better with money or with starting a business.
Yesterday we had a baptism in our ward of one of the law students in my class. She had heard of the church back home in Nigeria, and she was excited to learn that it exists here too. Now there are four members of the church in my law school.

On Sunday nights, one of our favorite activities is using cardboard, toilet paper tubes, and popsicle sticks to build houses, mazes, and castles for our neurologically-impared hamster named Chobi, which you can see right here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T-EHQI4Wm2M

We'd  love to hear updates from you guys and from what's going on in your lives. If you have Marco Polo or Voxer, add us and send us a message. We'd love to hear from you.

We love you all,

Alan & Giada

The Lay of the Horatii

The Lay of the Horatii
By Alan Embree Cattaneo

Rhyming scheme:
A
B
B
C
B
C

Gather, child, and, listen well
I have for thee a tale to tell

Lend ear to my words, and know
The city of the She-wolf’s sons
And how her voyage had begun
Of stoic heroes, poet-sung
Of every battle fought and won
Capvt Mvndi to become

To tell the tale, we must return
When Rome was but a colony
Of Alba Longa and her king
How that once great city fell
And Roma claimed her liberty
This is the tale I wish to tell

How Roma became free at last
Her colonial chains to break
Her former masters to forsake
A destiny to forge in fire
The favor of the gods to take
And grow to fill the earth entire

With allies few, and foes so near
The Romans never showed their fear

Publius Hostilius
The mighty city’s mighty king
Led forth an army conquering
He himself riding foremost
The Romans eager death to bring
To old King Mettius’s host

The Eagle stretched its wings and shrieked
In stark defiance, Roma swore
To bow to Alba never more
The city that had giv’n them birth
Like king Oedipus of lore
They swore to lay down to the earth

King Mettius and his Alban brood
To Rome proclaimed defiantly
“Send forth to us your champions three
To stand for Rome, to live or die
And three heroes send forth shall we
Alba to exemplify.

A mighty contest, to the death
Our glorious champions shall fight
Spear and gladius, strength and might
Shall this day decide our fate
Let the Gods decide who’s right
Of whom they’re proud, and whom they hate.”

Hostilius agreed with care
The lives of his dear men to spare

Both kings swore a solemn oath
Abide by what the Gods may choose
Whosoever then might lose
Would lay his sword and sceptre down
Those two kingdoms then to fuse
Under the sole victor’s crown

The lines were drawn, the call went out
The ranks were searched for champions three
The mighty triplets, Horatii
Were chosen for their strength and skill
Their oath to die before they’d flee
And their indomitable will

For Rome, the triplets Horatii
For Alba came the Curatii

With cheering from the clam’ring host
With flashing sword and gleaming shield
The champions quickly took the field
Three brave brothers, sons of Rome
The sword of Mars himself to wield
In defence of this, their home

As gods looked down to then elect
Who their favor would attract

Against their Alban counterparts
With vicious roar the brothers clashed
Sand did fly and swords did flash
Curatan blades drew Roman blood
Two Romans cried: their hope was dashed
Their brother fell down to the mud

The violent conflict raged thus on
'Midst cruel and vulgar Alban jeers
And somber, bitter Roman tears
Forced to look on, and to see
Their two remaining volunteers
Outnumbered two against the three

Then Romans cried out in lament
As their hope was ground to dust
A second brave Horatius
Took a blade, fell to his knees
Leaving his sole brother thus
Though wounded were the Curatii

The once proud Romans were laid low
And rent their clothing in despair
To claim defeat they did prepare
As their sole champion swung and thrust
Encircled by the foe, the air
Was full of predatory lust

The air was tense, the hour was bleak
Not one Roman dared to speak

Horatius knew he could not win
Like Mercury the Swift he sped
His foes pursued him as he fled
But lo, his flight was not retreat
A strategy came to his head
He was not ready for defeat

Like hounds of Erebus they came
But, wounded, they were soon outpaced
And far apart they soon were spaced
Two behind, one in the lead
Their fatal error soon to face
Forsook the strength of unity

Thus, distanced so, the Curatii
Could not their leading brother aid
Defend against the Roman blade
Horatius turned and quickly slew
Upon the wounded man he preyed
In front of the remaining two 

The Romans raised their fists and cheered
"Regroup, you fools!" The Albans screamed
But far too clever was his scheme
Horatius struck a fearsome blow
Slick with blood his gladius gleamed
And cut down was his second foe

Finally, there was but one
Horatius stared Curatius down
They faced each other, snarling hounds
The hope of nations on their backs
Horatius took a mighty bound
And sprang hungrily to attack

“For my brothers, slain in war,
And for the Roman cause!” he swore

Astonished silence filled the air
The Romans raised their voice as one
And sent a cheer up to the sun
Then king Mettius, bound by truce
In honor of the battle won
Gave his crown to Publius

Alba Longa was no more
The city was razed to the ground
Its people not enslaved or bound
But as free men led to new homes
(For Roman mercy was renowned)
To become citizens of Rome

And thus, my child, concludes the tale
Of Roma’s first great victory
The first of many more to be
Remember that those heroes famed,
Our ancestors, look down on thee
And their same blood flows in thy veins

Sorry for the long absence! Quick update

Holy friggin' junknuggets, it's been so long since I wrote in this blog! I totally forgot about it! I guess it doesn't matter that much because I'm mostly writing this blog for my posterity. I'll just keep going on as if nothing happened!

Quick update since 2016: I GOT MARRIED!

I graduated from college, I spent a year working as a professional genealogist to put my wife through college, and now I'm in my first year of law school! Lots of big changes. Stay tuned, more to come.

JUNK OR TREASURE? You decide.

I want to talk about the difference between priceless family heirlooms and useless, albeit cool, pieces of junk. This is a topic that's very important to me, since I have quite a few family heirlooms that I plan on passing on to my spawnlings, as well as a few of my own things that I'd like to start as new heirlooms. I love old, historic things so much, that there is no doubt in my mind that if I were born as a dark ages pope or orthodox patriarch, I'd have been the one turning artifacts into sacred icons to be worshiped.

Yesterday, at my dad's house, we went together through a number of items belonging to my great grandpa Ray, including his old Mason stuff, some books, and pins and awards. My dad told me the stories behind each piece, stories that I never would have guessed. We had a long conversation about how if my dad had died without telling me these stories, I wouldn't have known that those old books had tremendous family historical value, thinking they were just cool old books. We discussed how we have that problem with all of the items left behind by my great grandpa Glenn, not knowing which of his items are heirlooms and which he just thought were cool and picked up somewhere.

In the end, we decided that the difference between a priceless heirloom and a cool old thing is a story. We established the goal of writing a brief description of everything of importance that we own on a little card and putting it on or in the item, as well as writing about them in our journals, so that our descendants can know clearly exactly why each item is worth keeping and passing on.

I suggest you do the same!

LA FÓRMULA PARA LA FELICIDAD

1. La gratitud. Es imposible estar triste cuando uno reconoce todas las bendiciones que Dios le da cotidianamente.
2. El servicio. Las penas propias se olvidan aliviando las de otro.
3. La religión pura. La devoción a algo más grande de nosotros, y la obediencia a las leyes de Dios nos guían a la felicidad.
4. La meditación, o la ‘bella vita’, como dicen los tanos. No estar demasiado apurado, pero tomar la vida con calma y buscar momentos de serenidad y reflexión.
5. El mate. No literalmente la yerba mate, pero la ritual que representa. La comunión, la conversación, y el intercambio profundo interpersonal y regular con los amigos cercanos.
6. La productividad. Usar el tiempo libre no haciendo cosas que queman el tiempo y que reciprocan con poco o nada. Usar el tiempo libre para educarse, para crear algo que inspirará a los demás aún cuando no estás. Contribuir a la heredad humana.

Esta es mi fórmula para la felicidad.

Stringiamci al coorte, siam pronti alla morte, siam pronti alla morte, l'Italia chiamò!

Fin da quando avevo 12 anni, ho avuto sempre un amore, passione, ed ossessione con l’Italia e l’italiano. Il mio primo ricordo di un’interazione con degli italiani fu quando avevo sei anni. In quell’epoca abitavamo a Rexburg, in Idaho. Mia mamma si prenotava ogni anno per ospitare una squadra di un paese per la Festivale dei Balli Folkloristici che si faceva ogni anno a Rexburg. A volte erano africani, a volte tongani, a volte messicani, ecc. Quando avevo sei anni, ospitammo la squadra italiana. Venivano da Siena o da qualche altra città toscana, e avevano le bandiere tipiche che lanciavano nell’aria e giravano. Mi ricordo di esser stato molto curioso mentre sentivo mia mamma comunicare con queste persone che parlavano una forma molto strana dello spagnolo. "¿Necesitan algo?" diceva mia mamma. "Sì. Mi scusi, signora, ma dov’è il bagno?" diceva uno. Mia mamma rispondeva "el baño está ahí." Io pensavo a me stesso, "chi gli ha insegnato a parlare questi? Tutti sanno che si dice ‘¿dónde está el baño?’, non ‘dov’è il bagno.’" Mia mamma mi spiegò che venivano da un paese molto lontano, "Skittle-ya" o qualcosa così, che era il paese del Abuelo Juan Carlos in Argentina.

            Quando avevo 12 anni, cominciai per la prima volta a leggere il Libro di Mormon in italiano, insieme al mio amico italo-argentino, Dante Frassa. Nella mia adolescenza, ogni volta che vedevo qualche film in cui c’era un italiano, come Pappa Iaccavetta in Boondock Saints, impazzivo. C’era una canzone italiana, "L’Amore" da Sonohra, che ascoltavo quasi ogni giorno, sforzandomi di capire. La cantavo lo stesso, perché l’avevo memorizzata, anche se non capivo tutte le parole. In quel periodo, Kerry mi insegnò tutto l’italiano che conosceva dalla sua carriera di cantante di opera lirica. Conobbi un siciliano che lavorava in una pizzeria a Bountiful, vicino al tempio, e convinsi a mia mamma di pagarlo per delle lezioni per me. Studiai con lui per 6 mesi più o meno, poi decisi che volevo andare in Italia per imparare la lingua prima della missione. Non sapevo perché, ma sentivo che dovevo imparare la lingua quanto potevo prima della missione. Mandai delle lettere e degli email ai vescovi di Siena, Firenze, ed Ostia, chiedendo se conoscevano qualche membro che vorrebbe o accettare del pagamento monetario per ospitarmi, o fare un cambio di figli, di mandare il loro figlio a vivere da noi mentre andavo io là. Nessuno dei vescovi rispose, quindi continuai a studiare da solo. Quando ricevetti la chiamata della missione, e vidi "La Missione Italiana di Roma", non ero nemmeno sorpreso. Dentro di me, sentivo "ma certo! Ovviamente vado in Italia. Lo sapevo sempre."

            Durante la missione, godevo immensamente l’esperienza di vedere tutte le similarità fra la cultura argentina e la cultura italiana, e a vedere come "los tanos" influenzarono la cultura porteña. Tutte le frasi come "andiamo", "naso", "gamba", "mafangulo", "piano piano", e "dale con tutti" che dicono sempre i porteños, tutto il cibo, le pratiche culturali, che portarono a Buenos Aires. Mi sentivo proprio a casa in Italia, come se fosse un’estensione della cultura con cui sono cresciuto, una nuova parte da esplorare di una cosa che sempre conoscevo. E’ stata un’esperienza bellissima per me.

            Ma allo stesso tempo, mi creava delle problemi con gli anziani americani con cui vivevo. Una cosa tipica di qualsiasi adolescente che è cresciuto esclusivamente con una cultura per poi venire sommerso in una nuova cultura, è che tendono a criticare la nuova cultura, ed a paragonare le parti negative della nuova cultura con le parti positive della loro cultura. Litigavo assai con dei missionari che si lamentavano di come gli italiani non lavorano sodo come gli americani, o di quanto sporche erano le strade. Io gli dicevo sempre tre cose:

            Prima, gli dicevo che non possono paragonare Palermo, Napoli, o qualsiasi altra città grande italiana con Provo, Utah, o con Rexburg, Idaho, o un paesino piccolino americano. Gli dicevo che sarebbe molto più giusto paragonarle a Chicago, Boston, Miami, o un’altra città grande americana, dove la sporcizia è molto simile.

            La seconda cosa che gli dicevo è che furono stati chiamati ad amare, insegnare, e servire il popolo italiano. Gli dicevo che è impossibile amare e servire ad una persona o ad un popolo se uno sta sempre a criticarli. Bisogna fare come Cristo, ed accettarli ed amarli anche con i loro “difetti”, che poi potevano non essere difetti veramente, solo nei loro occhi giovanili e influenzati dai loro stessi paradigmi culturali.

            L’ultima cosa che gli spiegavo è esattamente il tema di questo discorso. Gli spiegavo tutto ciò che amo dell’Italia e degli italiani, e perché. La cultura italiana è diversa dall’americana per una ragione. Non è che non lavorano tante ore quanto gli americani solo per pigrizia. Ma per gli italiani, vivere bene la vita vuol dire una cosa molto diversa. Per loro, le due cose più importanti della vita sono la famiglia ed il cibo. Mi sono innamorato dello stile di vita mediterraneo. Mi piace tantissimo come, per un italiano, non c’è niente di più importante che pranzare insieme a casa con la famiglia. Lasciano il lavoro ogni giorno, tutto chiude per tre ore affinché possano avere un pranzo quotidiano di tre ore con la famiglia. I miei colleghi non capivano il valore di quei pranzi e pause di lavoro, e criticavano, dicendo che “se gli italiani lavorassero di più senza prendere una pausa di tre ore, allora l’economia sarebbe meglio e sarebbero più ricchi.” La cosa che loro percepivano come una debolezza della cultura, per me è una cosa che il resto del mondo potrebbe imparare dagli italiani.

            Gli italiani credono nel principio della “bella vita.” Prendere la vita con calma, non essere troppo in fretta, non vivere con troppo stress, prendere sempre il tempo per mangiare il cibo buono e chiacchierare con la famiglia e gli amici. E’ una cultura estremamente allocentrica. Mentre vivevo a Bari per il mio tirocinio, una delle cose più sciocche che mi piaceva fare, perché mi portava tanta gioia, era di andare alla piazza centrale di Triggiano nella sera e sedermi su una panchina. Lì, guardavo i vecchietti che camminavano insieme e che chiacchieravano di tutto e di tutti mentre giocavano a scopa. Guardavo le famiglie giovani che sono così rari negli Stati Uniti fuori di Mormonlandia. Guardavo i ragazzi che giocavano a pallone ogni sera, fuori in piazza, invece di essere chiusi in stanza sul computer ventiquattro su ventiquattro come i ragazzi americani. L’Italia di oggi è come immagino che erano l’Argentina o gli Stati Uniti una volta. Rei sicvt ervnt.

            La conversazione profonda, il contatto di occhi, la caldezza dell’amicizia, tutte cose che sono importanti ancora là. Tenere una conversazione con un italiano risuona con la mia anima come qualcosa di cui avevo bisogno, e di che non sapevo di aver bisogno finché non l’abbia trovata.

            Ecco perché sono così fiero del mio sangue italiano. 

Four of my heroes

As I've been setting my goals for this new semester, I've been thinking a lot about the character attributes that I'd most like to develop. As I was pondering that, I thought of some of my heroes that have those attributes that I want to develop, and who inspire me. I have many heroes, but I want to talk about four in particular here: Gina DeMaio, Matías Pedreira, Marco Pagnin, and Jonathan Lewis.

First, Gina DeMaio. I met her very briefly, only one semester last winter. But the things that she taught me are things that I think about all the time. Gina is half Armenian, half Italian. She speaks five languages extremely well - Armenian, Italian, Arabic, English, and Spanish. She worked for the U.N. for quite a few years before coming to BYU-I. She was Muslim before converting to the church. A few days ago, I just got the amazing news that she decided to serve a mission! I'm so proud of her. Something I absolutely love about Gina is her international experience with and drive to work in Christlike charitable ways. She once told me a story that totally broke my heart, but made my respect for her grow tremendously. Since she speaks Arabic, she once moved to Oman to volunteer in an orphanage. She says that children with disabilities in Oman are often marginalized, neglected, or abandoned, and no one takes the time to teach them how to read or write. She taught the children in that orphanage to read and write in Arabic, and loved them and gave them affection. The kids loved her like a mother, because it was the first time that many of them had been treated kindly. Gina told me that she's so saddened by the idea that she'll probably never see any of those kids again, and she thinks and dreams about them constantly. Gina played a huge part in helping me finalize my career plans in the charitable organization and NGO sector, specializing in Human Rights. When I think of her and our conversations together, it really helps me to maintain the international perspective, and remember that there's so much more to the world than just working to support my own family. She reminds me that every one of us has an enormous potential to use our lives and careers to alleviate the suffering of others in this world that, otherwise, would have little or no chance at a hopeful and happy life. The vast majority of people leave that potential untapped, but thanks to Gina, I won't. She also greatly inspired me to keep up with my studies of le Français, Euskera, Русский Язык, and فارسی, all of which (except for Euskera) are extremely important languages for my career path.

Next comes Matías Pedreira. As some of you who have read my mission book will remember, Matías was my favorite mission companion. We served together in the city of Bari, Poggio Franco. Matías has an incredible story. He was baptized by himself, then baptized his family. Six months later he went on a mini-mission, and then six months after that he went on his real mission. He's a spiritual powerhouse, and I've never met someone who knows the doctrine and teachings of the prophets better than he does. He's read and memorized every single book and manual that the church has ever published. Matías has lived (and is currently living) trials that would put me on my knees. He has an insanely difficult life, full of immense trials. But these trials only strengthen his determination to be devoted to God and His gospel in every facet of his life. I always admired the fact that his spirit and devotion to God always shine through, not dimmed in the slightest by his many trials.

Marco Pagnin is the father of my girlfriend. He's the model of the type of father that I want to be for my family one day. Before I met Marco and his family, I thought that that type of family only existed in the movies. I've never seen a father so entirely and exclusively devoted to his family. It seems like the only thing that he cares about or ever thinks about is spending time with his family, or making their lives better. Together with Silvia, his wife, they've created an extremely close-knit family. They wrote books for their children, putting their names in as the main characters, in order to teach their kids certain values and make them feel special. They hold family home evening and scripture study always, and eat dinner together religiously. I've learned so much about basing earthly fatherhood on the Eternal model of Fatherhood from the short time that I've known him.

Lastly, Jonathan Lewis. Jonathan was my roommate last fall semester. Johnny-Boy had the most amazing ability to make everyone feel special, listened to, cared for, and loved individually. He's so incredibly compassionate and charitable. When he talks to someone, they know that they have his full and undivided attention, and he remembers details about every conversation that he has. When you are having a bad day, you can count not only on being cheered up by Johnny-Boy, but also on the follow-up, being checked on throughout the week. I admire so much his ability to make the people he's talking to feel so cared for and loved.

As I go through this new semester and overcome the trials in front of me, I hope to come out of it having developed a little more of the characteristics that I so admire from these four people. I hope to be more international, motivated, charitable, Christ-like, devoted to God, knowledgeable of the scriptures, loving, compassionate, and attentive to the needs of others.