Italian Festival at Casa Loma was awesome!

Last Sunday I was at Casa Loma right at 10:00 and the parking was already full. Initially I did not believe that and thought that the policeman was just pulling my leg. (The Casa Loma area is the initial site for my third book. I love that Castle and recommend it for tourists coming to Toronto.) I was directed to park at George Brown College (I didn't even know they had a parking area). A shuttle bus was to transport people from the parking area to the castle. That would be my only complaint of the day. There were no signs or direction and so I walked to the castle and back (I really need to walk more anyway). There are working on the castle again and so a portion of the building is wrapped up, protection from the elements while the crew work on it, I suppose. Once in, I provided my free pass and they provided me with a green wrap for my wrist. Italians love food, and so, since I am perfectly half of an Italian, I love food too. No half about that part. Initially I thought there would be nothing without meat in it (I cannot eat animals or birds or anything that has had a life). I was mistaken. There was food galore and expresso and so I began with a cappucino. I wasted no time treating myself to all the samples. I even learned how to make some new stuff for me. I saw Italian men wearing police uniforms and I took a great picture of an older man wearing huge feathers all over his head in a helmet type something or other. I took a close up of him. I toured the castle, since it has been a few years and stopped to watch a movie. There were tables with all sorts of Italian displays and soon the two bags I was provided with were full. I kept looking for the people who had invited me, but I was ok on my own because I really enjoy my own company. The grounds were beautiful and as I stood there looking over my city, I was enchanted by the CN tower which I think is our landmark and surprisingly I could see the lake. Somehow, I had never noticed the lake from there before and wondered why. A man approached me and gave me a high end ice cream. I know about never taking candy from a stranger, but no one ever said anything about ice cream. I stopped taking pictures while eating my ice cream. After checking out the entire premises, having my full of food and treats, I walked over to a tent with chandeliers. I took pictures of the see through tent and enormous chandeliers. There were more politicians in this room than I had seen in I don't know how many years. Our Mayor was there, our Premier was not but she had a rep there. There were a few counsellors sprinkled here and there and everyone spoke. One of the politicians from Vaughan (just North of the city) said that 40% of the population there is Italian origin. He thanked the two people for clapping and the woman beside me, huffed and puffed and said we are in Toronto (in other words, who cares about Vaughan. After all we are the centre of the universe). There was a famous Italian singer/actor who sang us some songs. I had never heard of her, but I certainly did recognize the background video with her singing with Pit bull and another with Micheal Bolton. He was also saying something nice in another video about Italians. Then there was ET Canada also saying something nice about Italians. He was of Italian origin. It was great fun and I spoke to everyone because that is what Italians do (am I stereo typing? Is that ok if I was born in Italy?) Anyhow, after dancing a bit with "Arianna's" music. I hope I got her name right, because if she could get me to dance to music I never heard of in a room full of whoever, she is really good. She worked the crowd and I was amazed at how she did that. Is that what separates the famous from the rest of us? They know how to engage, how to motivate a crowd? Wow they could all be politicians. Is that how Arnold S. did it? And the rest of them? After her performance, people began to leave and a politician was asking us not to, so I sat a bit longer until he stopped asking us to stop leaving and then I left. I re-entered my castle and this time the garden room (I call it that). It is a sun room where I can see myself being served high tea surrounded by roses. To dream.......... The place was full of wine. I picked up one glass and while the server was providing small sips in each big glass for people, one man poured a good amount in my big glass. I couldn't leave the area because one man was in position to stop me, so I had to leave my glass with wine on the table. I made one more effort to find some people I knew and then filling full of food, drink, ice cream and entertainment, I went to find the shuttle bus. The event made me think of my roots and how important my dad has always been to me. There was an Italian business and professional organization at the event, which would cost me 200. annually to belong to. It would be good for networking and I fulfill most of their requirements. I have to think about it. How Italian am I? Being at the event reminded me of my childhood where my parents would take me to the Italian events. My mom used to say that the Swiss people mingled with everyone and that is why they had nothing compared to the Italian people. In my pracise it is very important to consider the whole person and that includes the cultural background as well. The more extreme the differences can be for those deciding to come to Canada from their homeland, the more conflict the children may face. That is one possibility. In my second book, I speak about the Italian culture and it is not always favourable when I compare Canada to Italy. So, if I join the Italian Professional something or other, will I be considered a problem child if I cannot emerse myself into a culture which I identify with, understand but am perhaps too Canadian? After all, I love Canada. It is my country. The singer made one comment that I thought was very interesting. She said that she loves coming to Canada because the Italians here are more Italian than in Italy. She also mentioned learning a dialect and saying that dialects are languages. I had heard that before, but dialects cannot be understood by all. I think of a dialect as a dialect. I cannot speak the dialect my father spoke when he wanted to. He just did that among his own people. However, I understood it. With my mom and myself, he just spoke Italian formally I suppose with English thrown in to make it sound Canadian. For instance throw in a o at the end of car in English, and it is given an Italian flair. It means nothing in Italian. When I was at York University there was a stir about a girl of Italian origin who had written a book about the Italians living in Woodbridge. Apparently the Italians were not too happy. I never read the book and don't even know what it is called, but that is how she thought it and well why do we always have to love it all? When I was writing my second book, two people representing two cultures asked me why? Why? Because it is about me, from my perspective during that time. There are cultures where women are subservient to men. There are cultures where because of choices people are killed. There are countries where freedoms are unheard of. One of the wonderful things I love about my city is that there are representatives from everywhere and we work well together and play well together. If I go somewhere and everyone is the same, I can find that rather boring which reminds me very much of the "Stepford wives". What I love about my city is the different music, the different food, the differences which makes us all the same in some form or another. What do you think? Oh by the way, those beautiful pictures I took, they all disappeared when I accidently deleted them from my camera as I was marvelling at the photos, even one I thought of using as a cover for my third book. Ouch, that hurt!