'Pertanza La Strega': The Day I Became A Real Witch

In Pisa the children loved playing in the garden which was a large green sea surrounding the house like a moat, dotted with a sea spray of white daisies. We had parks on either side of the house too. The park on the left being mainly composed of wood and bare metals was called 'Parco Brutto', the ugly park, while the park on the left composed of brightly coloured plastic noodles and pipes was called 'Parco Bello.'

One of their favorite games to play in the park was the 'Troppo game' where I would hold onto the back of the child's swing and ask 'Troppo?' (too much?) as I pulled it back, gradually higher and higher. Of course their answer was always 'No! Non Troppo!!' Then finally when I couldn't hold back anymore I would count to three and release the swing.

Many times we charged into the park through the knee length grass and daisies like the Scotts in Braveheart, the children roaring 'PLAY THE TROPPO, PLAY.' It was exhausting, but it built up my kudos with the kids faster than anything else I did.

It was during a backbreaking session of Play the Troppo that I made a language faux pas. It was still early on in my stay in Pisa and I was still coming to terms with the Italian language, something I can only liken to catching a squirming but delicious salmon. It is pretty darn hard to get a hold of but the potential of realizing it keeps you hanging on.

After nearly ten sessions of the troppo game I was ready to collapse. I told S-: 'Ok, finito troppo-play-the-tropp! I am exhausted! Tu sei troppo pertanza!' The little girl looked at me then burst into laughter.

What I had meant to say was: 'no more! you and the swing are too heavy', however the word I had meant to use was perzante, not Pertanza...which not only is gibberish in Italian, but sounds ridiculous too.

S- found it so funny she found it necessary to tell everyone, her parents, her brother, her 2 year old sister, even the dog. When she told her father, laughing with tears in her eyes, he choked back a chuckle, but insisted it wasn't such a big deal to save me some embarrassment. But when he turned back to his painting I saw him shake his head and chortle to himself.

After that point I became Pertanza La Strega: Pertanza the witch.

Playing with children can be very amusing, particularly I find with children under the age of four. They are remarkably clever but still able to lose themselves completely in the moment of the game. The girls S (7yrs) and J (2yrs) loved nothing more than being chased around their spacious garden, and sometimes would become so immersed in the game they would lose track of reality. The little one J- in particular found herself swept up into the moment emotionally often with hilarious consequences.

One play session when I, Pertanza the witch, was chasing them around the garden 'in order to eat them' (more like tickle them) I managed to grab hold of the speedy S and was treating her to a tickling session as she laughed and kicked for freedom.  While doing so I felt something tapping me sharply on the back. I turned to find the 2 year old hitting me with a little purple spade, a look of deadly determination and anger on her face. Despite her tiny stature she was actually managing to hurt me! Ooops. She was obviously taking her sister's capture a bit too seriously.

'Stop. stop, stop!' I ordered.

I paused the game, dropped my witch persona and calmly asked the two girls if they understood that we were just playing a game. We were just pretending. I wasn't really a witch and they weren't really going to be eaten by anyone...just a game!

They nodded and the game resumed. S- scrambled free but after ten minutes or so I had soon recaptured her with my outstretched arms, shaped into giant witch's claws. She shrieked but to my horror she was immediately joined by the distressed wails of her little sister. I turned around once again to find the little one pulling hard at my jumper desperately trying to pry me off her entrapped older sister, tears streaming down her bright red terrified/enraged face. She reminded me of a desperate Sam Gamgee, trying to save his beloved Frodo from Gollum.

'STOP! STOP! STOP!' I cried once more.

I paused the game and picked the little one up. I wiped her tears away and asked her again if she understood that we were just playing! There was no need to be scared or to cry! Solo Giocare! Just playing! I wasn't really going to eat her sister! Just tickle her! She nodded and smiled sheepishly.

I put her down with a little hug and the game resumed, but once again...things ended in tears. Patting her on the back to calm her down from the experience of nearly being 'eaten by Pertanza the witch' I meekly suggested we all just watch Peppa Pig for a while on TV to calm down.

It was enough Pertanza for one day for everyone.

For the little one I found she more than often took her games a bit too seriously, bless her little heart. She also enjoyed the 'Mio, Mia' game where she would point to one of her beloved items, either her Mum, her dog, her barbie and declare it hers with an assertive 'Mio!' or 'Mia!' It was always meant as a challenge, she expected me to then assume my witch persona and contradict her.

'Noooo!' I would hiss, and grab the confused family dog zinka. 'Mio!!!' The dog is MINE!' However I began to find ways to avoid this game when the poor little girl started taking things too seriously. One day when I insisted that no, the family dog was mine she promptly burst into tears.

Once again I solved the dramatic situation with some episodes of good ol' Peppa Pig.  And from then on when she would declare the dog hers, to her vast disappointment I would simply agree.

Receiving A Very Unexpected Email In London: The Consequences, The Perils And Wonders Of Being An Au Pair, New Beginnings

I was in Oxford the night I received the unexpected email from my hostess. I took the opportunity to leave London for a day and night to visit a friend at Somerville College where she studies.

That evening when my friend kindly offered me a chance to use her computer to check my email I found an rather ominous message from my hostess of the noble family:

Hello M-!
How are You? I hope You are well and enjoying Your travel.

I write You because I need to tell You some important changements that we are compelled to do in the next days. Let me know via-email if You check Your emails and have read this msg, so that I'll write You again to this e-mail address and explain all.

Thank You and take care

By this stage of my trip I was highly aware that things can get easily and harmlessly lost in translation,  particularly when it involves indirect communication such as email and someone for whom english is a second language. I have found when trying to use a language other than our own we can often find ourselves swinging either way on the vocab/grammar pedulum, easily coming across too formal or too casual. For example the subject of the message was titled: 'Changements'. So despite her grave tone I decided not to be concerned and thought I had some idea what it might be about anyway. She had mentioned to me that she and her husband would be doing some travel the following month. So for a few days here and there it was going to be just the four boys and me...oh and the beloved housemaid who never liked me very much (Please refer to blog post 'The House Maid vs.The  Au Pair: What To Do When The House Maid Clearly Wants you Dead').

I replied back with whatever came into my head first letting her know I was within reach email-wise:


Hi - !

Yes I am very well! And really enjoying London! How are you and the boys? I won't lie I am missing you all haha

oh I see, well yes please tell me what these changes may be. So please do go on!

hope you and the family are all well!
M-

I only got the opportunity to read her next message once I had arrived back in London late the following evening. I was in a really seedy internet cafe in Clapton Ponds, East London. For some reason despite the cafe being virtually empty the manager decided to lodge me in between the two sole male customers, one on youtube and the other...I didn't want to look to closely. I crammed in between them at my little desk and began to read the following:

Good morning M-! 
I'm very happy that you are enjoying your London trip a lot! 
We are having a beautiful holiday too. My husband and my children are very well too, thank You.

M-, it isn’t easy for me to write these few lines to You, but I have to do it. Something has changed for me in these days and I thought a lot about this new situation that I have to face.

Honestly, I didn’t know what to do at first. When I knew the news I was surprised, disappointed and sad, because I could never immagine it would have happened to me. But it happened. I thought a lot what to do and how to face it at the best and I have found an answer.

It’s very hard for me to write You what I’m going to tell You now, but I have to. M-, sorry if I tell You this, but we cannot guest You the next days till when we had planned (starting of April). Don’t worry: my decision doesn’t concern the way You helped me or behaved with the children! Be sure of this. My decision concerns something else that involves me, first, and then my family. I don’t have the courage to tell You what it is, because it’s too hard for me now. Maybe in the future we’ll talk about it…

- Are You able to stay in Your cousin’s house for the next days, until You find another family that guests You? (You told me that in London You stayed in Your cousin’s house)

- Did You leave some luggages in my home or did You bring everything with You? If You have left something, I can pack everything and send all to You in England. Or You prefer to come back, pack all Your things and then leave?

- M-, please, if You come back in my house, I need You to leave within Tuesday 11th of March. Please, forgive me if I seem so unpolite with You, but believe me that all it is caused by something new and absolutely unexpected, that I would have never known before, that I would have never had to face before…

When I finished the email I re-read it, then again and again, trying to work out what it meant. A thousand questions raced through my mind as I held back tears. Was someone ill? But she said they are all fine...this was not the email of someone who had just lost a family member or been diagnosed with an incurable disease. What could have happened to warrant her asking me not to return to their home? My first conclusion was maybe her reassurance was just pretense and I had done something unforgivable, something I could not fathom. I wracked my mind but came up with nothing. My hostess and I had been close, she told me many times how grateful and happy she had been with me and that the boys liked me. She also took care of me when the maid wanted to get me kicked out of the house. I was so confused. I had to get some answers, so still trying to wrap my head around what I had just read I replied:

H-, I do not know what to say.

I am very shocked and worried. Have I done anything wrong? Is this to do with me at all because if it is I would like to know...if I have done anything I promise it was never done intentionally or meant to hurt anyone...I am quite distressed, forgive me. And M- I confess I am very distressed I will not get to say goodbye to your four boys...because the truth is I love them very much. 

But also are you alright? Other than the fact you are my employer I do consider you also like a friend to me...you have been so kind to me and caring. I need to know you are ok just as any friend wants to know their friends are safe and well. I know you do not wish to share whatever has happened with me, but please let me know if I can help you! Or talk to you if you need....I am also sad I may not get the chance to say goodbye to you in person. I am sorry, I am not saying these things to make you feel guilty, I promise, I am simply expressing my fondness for the experience your family has given me and my sadness it has to end in this way.

So yes, most of my things are still in your house...I can come by your house and quickly get my things, or else I could wait until I have confirmed things with my next family, and you could send my things there. 

Desperate to hear your reply,

M-

My Cousin arrived home to her flat that night to find me looking lost and dishevelled. I told her the whole story and she was flabbergasted. We kept coming back to the same question, round and round in circles...'What happened??' Suddenly I got a notification, I had received another email. 'Oh my god, what does it say?' my cousin asked. I read eagerly:

Dear M-, 
I'm very sorry I distressed You: I really didn't want it!

Don't worry about the days You stayed with us: You have been so good with the children and You helped me a lot in our everyday life!

Thank You for offering me Your help: I did appreciate it a lot, but unfortunately You cannot do anything for me now. Instead I'm very worried about You. I hope I didn't put You too much in trouble and if there is something I can do for You, please tell me.

It would be very nice to see You again and say "goodbye", but...it can be also very stressful for You to come and go in two days and I don't want to distress You more than what I have already done.

Do You prefer to stay in London until You choose a new family? In this case I'll send You Your luggages to London or to Your new family, as You like.

At the time all the positives in that message did not seem to sink in. All I could think about was that polite as she was she clearly preferred me to not come back to the house...not even to say goodbye. My cousin and I mused over the strangeness of it all late into the night, enthusiastically coming up with all kinds of theories. Everything from abduction to court cases were thought of and weighed up on the probability scale, but it was just no good, guessing is just guessing.

'People are strange...there is no point dwelling on it, you will probably never know what happened,' my cousin advised. I agreed, but remained despondant, and I admit hurt and angry.

I ended up staying in London for another three days to give me time to change my plans, during which through good luck I was contacted again by a family in Pisa I had wanted to stay with. The girl they had been communicating with had suddenly stopped replying and now they were looking to see if I was still interested. I was, and booked a new flight and set of trains to get me there. The extra days in London breezed by as I spent them doing the things I had thought I would have to save for next time: Kew Gardens, The Tates, a stroll through Chelsea. Then suddenly as if I had teleported myself there I found myself tired, still a bit stunned, with a new family in Pisa. And after three weeks my luggage arrived at my new locale with a generous sum of money to compensate me for any inconveniences.

This all happened more than a month ago. The last few blog posts I made in relation to my previous family have been published in retrospect. I didn't want to move on without telling those stories which remain unique, happy and precious, despite the ending.

*** 

The incident was a strange one, really strange. The only thing I could take comfort in was the fact that my hostesses' decision had not been to do with some failure on my part as an au pair. Furthermore our email correspondance since has been affectionate and sincere. But it has highlighted for me some important facts about au pairing.

The au pair-employer relationship is not one forged on a legally bound contract. There are no regulations or rules other than what you and your host agree upon. This means that 

the relationship is one that is dependant on mutual trust and a shared interest in the welfare and happiness of the children involved. I guess this is exactly what made this change so painful: I trusted this family with my health, safety and happiness, and I treasured their children. Then suddenly I found myself a stranger who was no longer welcome in their home. In retrospect I have had to come to terms with the fact that maybe I trusted them more than I should have. 

The thing is when you are close to your host family, when the respect and affection is mutual, you really do feel like a family member. This family showed me amazing generosity, for example despite my protests they even payed for medical expenses of mine. They allowed me freedom, paid me very generously in relation to my working hours and treated me as a beloved but independent daughter. I had family dinner with them every night. 

But I guess what you have to remember when you are an au pair is that you may feel like you are part of the family, but you are not. At the end of the day there was no stopping my hosts from doing what they did, no head office to regulate against such a decision, and even though it may have been done for a very good reason (I lean towards believing it was) it was a sudden, alarming and painful end to a relationship I had begun to consider sacred. I thought I was family, but I was not. 

The main thing sadness that lingers with me now is that I never returned to that beautiful palace or got to hug and kiss those four beautiful cheeky boys goodbye. My playdough companions, fellow lego architects, mess makers, garden explorers. I loved them, I honestly did. I wasn't their mother or sister, but I felt a protectivness of them that would have seen me do anything for their continued safety and innocence. I asked my now ex-hostess what she told them had happened, where and why I had gone. She told them I had moved on to care for another family now. At least it wasn't exactly a lie. 

***

Yesterday here in Pisa, as I helped the little two year old of my new family pull on her jacket, something occurred to me. Before she ran off I pulled out the brand label from under the collar, and yep, it was United Colours of Benetton. It was the exact same ice-blue padded jacket my previous little one had worn in Veneto. How many times had I helped stuff his little four year old arms into that thing so he could make his hasty exit into the garden to play? And now I was doing the same for her. The jacket has now become for me a symbol of continuity. Some things have changed: a different family, relationships and personalities, chores, location, and oportunities. But as the jacket reminds me there will always be some things that remain the same, such as the joy of becoming loved and needed by beautiful children. And that which stays the same can be both comforting and bittersweet.