Nat and Matt,

Great to hear that you are meeting the Southern Hemisphere relatives.
We are really enjoying the fine foods you sent from Vermont. I especially like the
Cabott's extra sharp chedder. It has the signature of Cabott's President, Richard W. Stammer,
who is a friend of mine.

Today, we have about 18+ inches of snow here in Jersey.

If you can send me the names of the Argentina relatives, I will be grateful. My cousin Amy is very interested as well.

Nick

You are my hero!

Hey, way to go ProChamps. Matt, now you have a cool story to tell everytime Nat wears the infamous turkey hat. Gobble! Gobble! Here's the [email protected]

Matt-
I'm worried about your cut foot in that muck! I hope you're keeping an eye on it and that you cleaned it well after the amazing save. I hate to sound like such a "mother", but you guys have to be careful! Thanks for all of the beautifully written updates. I really look forward to reading them and sharing what you are experiencing. We love you both.

Hola, amigos. Que tal?

Matt-
I am so proud of you for saving poor lucky. That is the sadest thing I ever heard. You are a hero!!!!!!! I hope you took pics to go along with your story. Miss you guys!!!!!!!! -dan

Monday, January 30th, Mendoza, Argentina --

This past weekend, the moment finally came when I had to face my fears and put my Spanish skills to the test. The story goes...

Matt and I pretty much picked to study in the province of Mendoza in Argentina randomly... our only knowledge of the area was limited to what we found on our spanish school website. So needless to say, I was pretty surprised to learn that the city of Mendoza contained a large number of ¨Spallutos¨, cousins of my grandmother, Elizabeth Spalluto Ciampa. I later found out that Mendoza, the vino capital of the country, is known for its Italian heritage.

In order to get in touch with these Argentine relatives, I had to overcome a number of obstacles. My great uncle Ben, who lives in Santa Barbara, put me in touch with Isabella of Pasedena, CA, who is the sister of all of the Argentine relatives. Despite the fact that she moved to the U.S. from Argentina in 1964, she doesn´t speak a word of English. My attempt to have a phone conversation with her in Spanish was pretty much a disaster, demonstrating the fact that I really needed to go learn some more.. Finally, I had my Spanish speaking friend, Josh, call Isabella, and he somehow managed to obtain 3 phone numbers of people in Argentina.. The relationships were not quite clear.

Despite the fact that I have Ciampa/Spalluto , and theoretically should not be too shy to talk to anyone in any language, I was pretty much dreading the first phone call to these relatives. I was hoping to wait until the end of my 6 months of Spanish classes to get in contact with my relatives who may or may not know I exist. As it turned out, we had an opportunity to get a ride to Mendoza this past weekend. My current level of Spanish had to suffice. To make a long story short, my grandmother´s cousin, Ana, did NOT know I exist! She did however know that I was telling the truth by my knowledge of her maiden name, Spalluto. I made plans to meet her and her son, who happened to have lived in Hermosa Beach and other parts of L.A. for a few years and speaks perfect English.

Over some drinks at our hotel, Matt and I spent a few hours conversing with Ana and Raul in Spanish, as Ana does not speak any English. She is about 30 years younger than my grandmother would be, which made it much easier than I had feared! (For those of you that knew Grandma Ciampa in her late ´80´s, you know that it was not that easy to have a coherent conversation with her-- and I feared that senility ran in the family). Anyway, Ana was very happy to meet a new relative. She filled me in on the history of her family and their move from Italy to Argentina. Apparently, her father had borrowed money from his brother (my great-grandfather who had moved back to Italy) to emmigrate to the U.S. during WWI. At that point, the U.S. had closed its doors to Italian immigrants, so her father ended up emmigrating to Argentina instead, where he made a living working in the vinyards.

Yes - I did manage to understand all that and communicate with few problems. It really is a small wold! Matt and I plan to return to Mendoza to meet the other Spalluto´s who live there. Should be interesting!

-M & N

Oh yeah....sorry about the colts....GO STEELERS!!!

Umm...I agree with Brian....bachlorette tea-bag party, a little disturbing....have fun...hasta luego

Monday, January 23th, San Rafael, Argentina --

If you could design the perfect town, a place where all of your favorites came together, what would it be like?

My perfect place would have perpetual sunshine -- an endless summer of sorts -- with brief spells of cold and the rare dusting of snow to retain a sense of season. It would be well off the beaten path as to avoid the torrent of visitors that often destroy the same beauty and tranquility they travel far and wide to seek.

Open space would be the norm, not the exception -- and the seemingly infinite green vistas would be set against a backdrop of majestic mountains longing for a visitor, anyone to witness its vast natural wonders.

Each street, alley and causeway would be lined by fresh-water canals and mature oaks to shade its residents during the long oft-hot summer days.

This perfect place would have vineyards, and lots of them -- providing world-class vino to all for mere pennies on the dollar. Interspersed among the vines would exist acre upon acre of fruit orchards -- apple, peach, olive and pear -- take your pick. A quarter would buy an armful of peaches or a backpack full of cherries -- each in succession the best you´ve ever tasted -- from a smiling and appreciative local farmer.

Certainly one cannot subsist on fresh fruit alone. Steak, among the best cuts in the world, would be a daily staple -- its price comparable to a glass of vino.

Bicycles would rival cars as the vehicle of choice, and jesters on unicycles would perform juggling tricks for both at the rare stoplight.

This town would close shop in early afternoon -- to rest, spend time with family and usually both. In late afternoon, locals would rise from their afternoon slumber to start a new day -- not a soul would remain indoors.

It would straddle two worlds -- one where the site of a horse and carriage on Main drew few stares, while the best of the modern world crept slowly, cautiously, providing options and comforts to those who saught it.

Local residents would have their priorities straight, and glow in knowing that life there was as good as it gets.

In our eyes, the perfect place exists . . . at the foot of the Andes . . . in the province de Mendoza, Argentina . . . in a town called San Rafael.

M & N

Hi guys!
Thanks for your updates. We are living vicariously through your travels! You sound like you are having a blast! Happy (super belated) birthday Nat!

Mattalie - looks like you guys are having a great time. A little weirded out by the Tea-Bag pics from the bachelorette party. I ran into Sasha at Penn yesterday. She says hello. Small world.