La famiglia Faccioli

It’s about time I formally introduce you to the one and only real Faccioli family (the most Italian name I’ve ever heard). They are a family of seven, an astronomical number by way of European norms. Most families here max out at one or two kids, but this family has five. And how lucky we are that they had five. Five kids means five times the fun. Francesco jokes about how his coworkers cannot believe that it is possible to have such a big family. They don’t know how he manages it. Francesco noted his sadness for his peers, because they just don’t know all the joy they are missing out on. Each member of this family brings something special to the table, and as a whole there is so much joy.

Maria la madre

She is beauty. She is grace. She is Maria. Named after the holy mother-of-Jesus, Maria really is a saint. And she always looks like a queen. Maria works part-time as a midwife in the hospital, and full-time as a mom. They say that Maria is a mother 24/7. She never stops thinking about her children, worrying about her children, or loving her children. It is evident in everything she does. When her teens are out at parties, Maria doesn’t sleep. When her toddler trips and falls, Maria kisses the ouchies better. When it is dinner time, she puts impeccable art on the table and calls it food. She probably wouldn’t like this description of her, but it is true. I’m just here to report the facts. Now if you know me, then you know that I practically worship my mom’s cooking. I can say without hesitation that my mom makes the best food west of the Mississippi… and Maria makes the best food east of it.

Francesco il padre

The father of the family, and what a typical father he is. He teases his children, embarrasses the teens in front of their friends, is met with a run-into embrace from the littles when he gets home from work, encourages his kids to maximize their potential, and openly adores his wife, the mother of his children. I take it back– this is no typical father. Francesco is an extraordinary dad. He is also an electrical engineer, and works now as a CEO of the local power company, Dolomiti Energia. He enjoys running in the early morning, learning English, and taking his family on adventures.

Francesco is named after arguably the most important Catholic priest in Italy, one who recentered the church back on Jesus Christ and what really matters. In a way, he reformed the church in Italy making it what it is today. This family has deep Catholic roots and beliefs: their names alone testify of that. They live up to their names. They pray together before each meal. They go to church for mass each Sunday. Their children attend a private Catholic school, in which the parents are also very involved (Francesco’s father helped establish the school). In a world where faith in dwindling and belief in God is diminishing, the Facciolis are holding to their faith diligently.

Pietro 18 years old

He will start his last year of high school this fall. Pietro currently enjoys most anything other than staying home. The Italian language? He thinks it is trash… or at least non-useful. The world is big and he wants to be a part of it. He lives for trying new things. His English is good and he takes some pride in his ability. He has been to London a couple of times on school trips, and likes the culture there. He wants to go to America more than anything. He could eat McDonalds every day. Although Pietro prefers to go out with friends, I can tell that he is a good big brother. His siblings look up to him. When Pietro goes to the University, he is thinking of studying exercise science.

Maddalena 15 years old

Maddalena loves consistency. If she could have a slice of white bread with Nutella for breakfast every day, she would (and as far as I can tell, she has)! She enjoys spending time with her friends from school, listening to music, and going to parties. She is on the track team, but doesn’t like her family to come to her races. She has gorgeously dark, naturally curly hair. Maddi has a simply pleasant demeanor, and is a good helper in the home. Her English is also great…. The ability to speak English in this household is apparently a competition. At the end of the day I would have to say that the winner is… well, me. 😉

Davide 12 years old

Davide loves soccer, like any good Italian boy should. If it never got hot outside, a soccer ball could easily entertain him all day long. He and Carlo are also going through a Harry Potter obsession phase right now. Davide is a smart kid and learns quickly. Davide likes to read, draw, bike, and play sports. He is usually the first to laugh or point out when I do something strange, something that people don’t do here like mix prosciutto with speck on my sandwich or eat a banana with the peanut butter I brought. I asked him if he would eat a banana with Nutella. The answer was a resounding no. Nutella belongs on bread, not bananas.

Carlo 10 years old

He is a pocket full of sunshine. If you want an instant happiness boost, just look at Carlo and that’s sure to do the trick. The kid literally radiates. However his energy often needs direction, and can spill out in ways that irritate the other family members. Carlo is often reprimanded and told to close his mouth, not because they don’t like it when he talks, but simply because he never stops. And it’s not just the fact that he talks, it’s how he talks: at full volume, with dramatic hand gestures, and (if seated) he will stand up mid-sentence to fully express his thoughts.

And how I adore listening to Carlo. It’s probably because I didn’t grow up with him, but I love it when Carlo talks. His speaking is a melody. He does the Italian language justice, with a sing-song tonality that captures my heart. My first few days here, I didn’t even bother mentally translating what he was saying, I just smiled as I listened to how he said it.

Emma 4 years old

The baby of the family. The world is her kingdom and this house is her castle. Everyone knows that Emma is the princess. The extent of her English cuts off somewhere after the count of ten. She will enthusiastically start in her piccola (little) Italian accent with “One, two, trrrreee” until the grand finale, “ten!!” She is still figuring out that eleven immediately follows ten, not seventeen. Especially when I am alone with Emma, our conversations are hilarious, mostly because she knows more Italian than I do. I am often asking her “Cosa significa quello?” (What does that mean?) and “Come se dice questo?” (How do you say this?) as I point to an object. She has already taught me fragola (strawberry), ciliegie (cherries), and other important words like scarpe (shoes). Between my broken Italian, a lot of body language, and the universal language of love, we actually get along quite well.

Every day I catch myself saying, “Just like my family.” My Italian and American moms both make the best food, don’t know how beautiful they really are, and would do anything for their kids. My Italian and American dads both like trail running, working hard for their family, and have an adventurous spirit. My Italian and American siblings enjoy the same books, love playing and eating, push the same buttons, and have each others backs. In both of these homes, Christ is the foundation. Maybe that is why Nogaredo is starting to feel like home.