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I wrote the following articles for Florence's English-based newspaper The Florentine.
United by Compassion: 1966 Flood in Florence Finding yourself on the Ponte Vecchio: Study Abroad in Florence It's summertime and the living is easy: Summertime in Piazza Santo Spirito, Florence Stop. Lock and Roll: Biking safely and happily in Florence Stepping over stereotypes: Stereotyping in Italian culture Retreat and Inspiration in Tuscany: Famous Brits in Tuscany — from Shelley to Sting International dance in Florence United by Compassion By Miriam Hurley “And, before that sixth day, I had seen the image of death in the eyes of a 30-year-old man. Blue, haunted eyes. For eighty hours, he had been on the roof of a farmhouse in San Mauro where we had come with a helicopter. For eighty hours, he had had no food or water. A meter below him, a deep sea of water and mud was ready to swallow him if his white hands, clutching a ridgecap, should lose their grip. From other roofs, nearby but separated by the water, two young men, an old man and two women cried and shouted, “Us too! Us too!” It was impossible to reach them; there were wires and television antennas in the way. If a helicopter blade so much as touched them, it would be the end for everyone. An officer dropped down from the helicopter, and risking his life, as ever, he threw the man bread, water, milk, and even tins, anything, it was the desperate illogic of acting quickly. And that man, by now at the edge of reason, understood that he had to manage to throw that food to the others who were starving as he was. When we left him, he was sliding along the roof to reach them, so that, before he ate it himself, he could throw them food for which he had waited eighty hours. Then, the others were crying, throwing kisses to the pilot, waving handkerchiefs. These were people on their knees, without strength, yet, perhaps, no longer without hope.” Enrico Mattei
When a violent tragedy hits a community, parts of being human come out that amaze and leave its people with hope. When destruction came rushing over Florence on the morning of November 4, 1966 when the Arno burst, instantly and in the long aftermath, people instinctually moved to protect and help the city, their loved ones, their neighbors and anyone who needed them. Divisions and differences became irrelevant in the face of the destruction and the long, hard work that followed. Florentines remember with pride how, rather than sit down and cry, the people of Florence sprang to action, rolled up their shirtsleeves and went to work. Memories of the flood bring back both the fear and sorrow of the tragedy and wonder at the reactions of individuals. Fausto Braganti, a 24-year-old political science student who lived in Via della Pergola at the time, was in his native Sansepolcro for the long weekend when he heard the news. In response to shortages broadcast on the radio, he stuffed his little car with medicine collected from Sansepolcro pharmacies, bread and water, drove into the streets of Florence and added to the makeshift collection center set up in Palazzo Vecchio. Paolo Romagnoli was a 16-year-old high school student living in San Zanobi, right beyond where the floodwaters reached. As soon as he and his friends could move through the streets again, they went to help a group of firefighters. Familiar with the streets of his native Florence, he acted as guide to firefighters come from outside to help. Stefano Rolando was 19 and living in Milan. His parents sent him to Florence with suitcases of food for their friends there. Once he delivered the food and saw the need for help in the mammoth task of salvaging the books at the Biblioteca Nazionale, he went there and stayed. In a city with a long history of factional in-fighting and a reputation for a closed nature, the flood connected Florentines to each other. Enrico Mattei described the Florentines the day after the flood, working silently and in union at the first rescue efforts. “The most divided, discordant, and contentious people in the world found themselves united in brotherhood by their great compassion for Florence. They washed and soothed the open wounds on Florence’s suffering and torn fallen body.” Priests and Communist leaders worked side by side; people of all classes and from every quarter. Resistance fighters in the still recent war found themselves hosting German “mud angels” in their homes, the enemy become a generous friend. On the day of the flood, help went in unexpected directions. Some eighty prisoners took the opportunity to riot and escape from the Santa Teresa prison. One escapee, Luciano Sonnelini, made it to the roof to jump into the water to escape. Florentines, marooned on their roofs and upper stories, called encouragement, telling him when best to jump. One woman shouted ironically, “Where do you think you’re going?” He joked back, “I’m going to Montecatini to take the water cure”. He did not make it. His body was found the next day in a basement in Via dei Pepi. Others who successfully escaped came from the roof into nearby apartments and politely waited with families for the water to retreat. In addition to hour after hour of labor for months, the rescue and repair took resources, ingenuity and organization. Boats, buckets, mops, rags were marshaled or improvised. Richard Ginori’s porcelain kilns became book driers. People’s homes became dormitories. Social centers became cafeterias. Many marveled at the apparent natural ease of organization, as power struggles and hierarchies took the back burner. Though all were impressed with the resourceful industry of Florentines, few were impressed with the government’s role. It was said that such elaborate blaspheming had never been heard in Florence as in the days after the flood, directed at those who did not warn them and who did too little now. Still, the prevailing attitude was practical self-reliance. In an emblematic story of Florentine gumption, when the then President of the Republic, Giuseppe Saragat, visited to tour disaster sites, the then director of the national library, Emanuele Casamassima, handed him a bucket and invited him to help, saying otherwise, “Ci lasci lavorare” [Leave us to our work]. Despite the hardships, the unforgettable stench and the loss, the time after the flood was also exciting, especially for the young. As the adolescent Romagnoli worked alongside adults, he had his first taste of true responsibility. Especially as students poured in from other cities, the atmosphere was party-like. Braganti remembers that the train station became like “an enormous dormitory. There was a lot of wine.” Rolando was impressed by being part of a human chain against the mystery of nature’s destruction. “I took it with me all my life,” he says today. Many remembered the sense of camaraderie, the friendships and loves that flowered quickly. Many were inspired to volunteer or work for social improvement. A common thread in the memories of those who lived through the flood is wonder at the passionate, selfless involvement of so many. “Mud angels” were asked in interviews why this solidarity for Florence was so strong and if it would happen again today. Their answers were split. Some attributed it to the spirit of the times, the budding Sixties; others to the uniqueness of Florence and its loved heritage; some to Florentines’ strong sense of civic duty. Some thought our modern times too self-involved and materialistic to see the same outpouring. Others imagined it would be even stronger and more effective today. One, Franco Paloschi, answered, “In poverty and hardship, people help each other. A strong sense of solidarity arises in human beings. The instinct to help their fellows grows in people … In these extreme situations, the best side of people always come out”.
Finding yourself on the Ponte Vecchio by Miriam Hurley (The Florentine, issue no. 33/2006 / May 18, 2006) The inner journey of study abroad Studying abroad is not a vacation. However, if you are heading to a holiday magnet like Florence for a year or for the summer, friends and acquaintances will most likely exclaim, ‘Oh, what fun!’ Yet, with studying abroad, as with other momentous life events, the word ‘fun’ doesn’t begin to cover the experience. Granted, if all goes well, there will be many fun moments: watching the sun rise over the Ponte Vecchio with new friends, questing for the best gelato in Florence, attending outdoor concerts in a piazza, and well – choose your own adventure. What people often forget is that study abroad is not just about ‘what you do’, it’s also about ‘who you become.’
In A Room with a View, EM Forster’s novel made into a film by Merchant Ivory and set in early 20th-century Florence, Eleanor Lavish pictures the protagonist Lucy as a character for her new novel, dreaming: ‘The young English girl, transfigured by Italy. And why should she not be transfigured? It happened to the Goths.’ In 1994, driven by visions of Edwardian Florence and George Emerson, Lucy’s (and my) ideal love, I chose to study abroad in Florence for the year. Twelve years on, I live in Florence and work as an Italian-to-English translator. Fair to say, my life was transfigured, George or no George. Others on my program were unrecognizable after a few months in Florence, having shed glasses, hair, boyfriends, shyness. Today, many friends from the program have Italy-related jobs, spouses or dreams. Florence is a study-abroad Mecca, hosting 32% of study programs in Italy. More than 4,000 students flock to Tuscany in any given year. This is a continuation of a centuries-old tradition of youths and artists from across Europe and North America coming to Florence to soak up its art and history. Students now come from all over the world to study art, history, literature, politics and crafts. At the symposium ‘Educating in Paradise: The Experiences of North American Institutions of Higher Learning in Italy’, Portia Prebys, president of the Association of American College and University Programs in Italy, defined international educators’ ultimate goal as aiming ‘to teach our students, initially, to identify who they are, and where they come from; to define their personal and national backgrounds, to interpret their own reality...and to broaden the horizons of our students through knowledge, experience and cultural exchange.’
Studying in a place viewed as a ‘paradise’ adds an extra dimension to this quest for cultural expansion. In Florence, tripping over the same stones as Dante, Botticelli, Galileo and Machiavelli (and experiencing the works of those ancient Tuscans) undoubtedly enhances the academic experience. Dreamy-eyed images of horse-drawn carriages and Renaissance courtiers will have to make way for mopeds and discothèque suitors. Encountering a foreign culture is both a thrill and a challenge. Plucking yourself out of the familiar and throwing yourself into the unknown brings up the vexing question of who you really are. Around the third month of a study abroad program, this philosophical angst generally expresses itself as painful nostalgia for fat-free Ranch dressing (as I heard from a homesick American girl who announced she was ‘over this oil and vinegar dressing thing’). In their first weeks in Florence, students are likely to find the half-foot wide sidewalks poor protection from the barrage of mopeds, out-of-place offal and street-clogging tourist groups. Happily, we’re an adaptable species, able to master the gentle dance of making our way through Florentine streets. My best advice is to have your own bike to zip by sleepy tourists.
Some students adjust so well that going home proves to be an even more difficult transition, as the familiar looks strange and the disorientation is unexpected. I found myself confusedly searching building sides for street names before remembering the American convention of placing them on sign posts on street corners. On a grander scale, the study abroad experience calls for students to question who they are and how they relate to their context. You’ll evaluate your native culture with fresh eyes and you may long for some oil and vinegar for your salad as you complain about its sorry tomatoes. Though every experience abroad is unique, there are some constants: joy, confusion, frustration, camaraderie (possibly more than you’ve ever known), pain, learning, growth and, OK - there is also fun. Florence’s history, its present, its beauties and its trials will converge to transfigure you, and you’ll be glad to have taken on a challenge so far beyond any vacation.
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It's summertime and the living is easy by Miriam Hurley (The Florentine, issue no. 35/2006 / June 15, 2006) The 'beautiful season' comes to Santo Spirito The piazza was invented for warm summer evenings, sipping a drink, crossing one’s ankles and admiring the ‘strollers-by.’ Piazza Santo Spirito is one of Florence’s finest for these purposes, with its lush trees, the majestic curls of Brunelleschi’s 15th-century church façade, and its Oltrarno location. The Santo Spirito/San Frediano neighborhood has a down-to-earth, hearty Florentine attitude flavored with old-school yet progressive creativity. It became the heart of the ‘other’ Florence a few years ago, but Santo Spirito’s rightful grit has started to degenerate into grime and its languid beauty started to be marred by unsavory tinges, as drug dealers have settled into the area. Last year, Piero Iervolino and Jacopo D’Albasio of the association PiazzArt launched ‘Easy Living,’ a summer-long, much-encompassing event in Santo Spirito to counter this trend. Piero explains, ‘I love this neighborhood and I love this piazza. We wanted to do something to give Santo Spirito back to the neighborhood and reflect its spirit.’ Back for its second year, ‘Easy Living in Santo Spirito’ hosts events every evening from May 26 to September 10. Organized by PiazzArt and Quartiere 1 of the city government, it mingles a low-key mix of music, theatre, art, literature, design and beer. Evening events include Musica al Tramonto [Music at Sunset] with young Florentine musicians playing relaxed, fresh summer music like jazz, swing, flamenco and Cuban sounds. They play quietly enough to not disturb the piazza neighbors and end their jam sessions at 11 pm. Every Sunday evening, there will be a DJ set to give weekend beach-goers a chance to shake off the sand and continue their idyll. Other events on the roster (to be posted on www.piazzart.com (in Italian) and available in the piazza at the info booth) include theatre events, dance performances and readings. In the special events category: during the World Cup, matches will be broadcast on a jumbo screen; and on June 21, as part of the Maggio Musicale music festival, a classical music concert will be held in the piazza. Up with (and ahead of) the times, the entire zone will have free wireless Internet access all summer, and the association Anelli Mancanti (www.anellimancanti.it) has set up a renegade short-range television broadcast about the neighborhood. A literature area will have art and design magazines and host readings. An information booth near the bar will dispense information on the neighborhood at large. True to Santo Spirito’s grassroots, Alternative Soul, the temporary bar by the stage was designed by Space Studio following the tenents of ‘green’ building, with low energy consumption and made of recycled materials. At apertivo hour (about 7pm to 9pm), a buffet is offered at the bar Pop Art on the piazza. Otherwise, gelato and sandwiches can be bought nearby for a well-rounded summer meal. The opening night on Friday, May 26 was a grand success. The faces of the large relaxed crowd enjoying the music showed plain joy at the onset of summer, at last, and happy visions of months to come filled with such evenings in their city. The feeling was fluid as people milled between the bars, the church steps and the central fountain, seating by the stage and curbs. The buzz of happenings and creativity stirred up, is pulled off with a sense of jazz-like ease and action, perfect for the season. Of course, that ease is an illusion, as the event is the result of hard work by the organizers, community members, artists, local retailers and workers. The idea driving the PiazzArt association is that the Oltrarno community can reclaim its spaces by coming together in its shared interests. A few nights into ‘Easy Living,’ Piero, one of the exhausted organizers, was able to look with satisfaction at the vibrant Santo Spirito summer underway and say that it was all worth it, as this was just what they wanted. The ‘reclaiming of Santo Spirito’ can claim success.
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by Miriam Hurley (The Florentine, issue no. 37/2006 / July 13, 2006) Cycling in the city Florence is perfect for biking. Well, almost perfect. The center of town is flat. The climate is mild. The city is small and most points in Florence proper can be reached in less than 20 minutes by bike. Bikes free their riders from the plagues of bus strikes, impossible parking, blocked streets and high gas prices. Fast, cheap, healthy and convenient. On the downside, there are few designated bike paths or pro-cycling rules and amenities in Florence, discouraging riders from being faithful to the letter of traffic laws and making trips across town unnecessarily adventurous. There are very few bike racks, encouraging imaginative bike-parking solutions. And the city’s pollution is especially hard on bikers. Getting caught behind a big ATAF city bus on a narrow street threatens to undo the health benefits of biking. Florence’s long-standing problems with too much traffic and too much pollution, harming ears, lungs and historic monuments, could be much eased by more widespread bike riding. In the opinion of pro-cycling Florentine organizations such as Firenzeinbici and Firenze Città Ciclabile, it would take little to improve cycling conditions in Florence. Their mission is to pressure the city government to do that little bit. Cyclists ask for more bike paths, more bike racks, and city planning favoring bikes. This sounds much like what the city government promises. Deputy Mayor of Florence Giuseppe Matulli responds to those complaining about cycling conditions in Florence: ‘This Administration has been working for some time to approve provisions that would favor the use of bicycles as an alternative to polluting transportation means. The primary objectives are to increase cycling paths, make new signage for bike routes, complete missing sections of cycling paths and improve and add bike racks.’ While we wait for these good intentions (presumably stuck in traffic) to bear fruit, biking is still the best way to get around Florence. Armed with a loud bell to get through tourist throngs, a hefty bike lock (essential for thwarting thieves who will always go for the flimsily-locked bike first) and open eyes, you can happily and safely make the streets of Florence your own. The rhythms and rules of traffic may differ greatly from your country of origin, so start out slowly. Keep your side vision well open and your hands near the brakes. Watch out for zealous taxi drivers. Keep visible with bright clothing and lights. Finding the best routes to get around safely and quickly takes some trial and error. Using bike paths marked on a map (see www.florencebikepages.com) is a good place to start, though they are unlikely to take you all the way to your destination. A bike path rings the historic center; a good tactic for central targets is to position yourself on this path, which stretches from the Fortezza di Basso to the Arno near Piazza Beccaria, and find a spoke street to penetrate the center. Bikes may not be parked on sidewalks or attached to poles. Naturally, with legal options in short supply, this rule is often ignored. As part of the recent Amo Firenze (I love Florence) clean-up campaign (which cranky cyclists suggested be renamed ‘I hate cyclists’), many illegally parked bikes were forcibly removed and brought to an inaccessible lot where steep fines encouraged their owners to leave them forever. Under pressure from biking and environmental associations, officials now leave a notice on the bike before ‘towing’. Tourists can rent bikes from businesses such as Florence by Bike (www.florencebybike.com), by the hour or day. Second-hand bikes can be hard to come by in Florence. New, bottom-of-the-line bikes run between 100 and 150 euro. Reselling a bike at the end of a stay is easy by word of mouth or fliers. Florence by Bike sells bikes and will buy them back, for a reduced amount, within 120 days. Especially during the warm months, many cycling events are planned in Florence and Tuscany. For a list of rides, consult the calendars at any of the sites listed under “More Info”. Through such rides, advocacy groups and dedication to human-powered transportation, cyclists are uniting to bring Florence that much closer to perfection. MORE INFO: Florence Bike Pages (in English) Firenze in Bici Association (in Italian) Firenze Città Cicabile
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by Miriam Hurley (The Florentine, issue no. 24/2006 / January 12, 2006) Forgive me a stereotype: Italians like to talk about food. A lot. Running a distant second among favorite subjects is the differences between people from Italy’s various cities and regions. A likely conversation might seamlessly flow between these two stand-bys.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“I’m going to Rome.”
“Ah, Roma. Bella. You have to have carciofi alla romana. I once had an artichoke there that was so soft and….[copious detail, skipped here due to space limitations]…. And the Romans are so down-to-earth.” [Imitation of Roman accent generally included].
The Romans get off easy compared to the natives of most other cities. Each group seems to fare worse than the next. Milanesi, Venetians, Lucchesi, Neapolitans, and, of course, Florentines, are variously stingy, workaholics, stuffy, on-the-make and closed-minded. As I was brought up that it’s not nice to insult whole cities all at once (in print, at least), I’ll let you mix and match yourselves.
I’m from Oregon, out on the roomy, young West Coast of the U.S. No one gets excited there about the character differences between Portlanders and Eugeners, a two-hour drive apart. In straining for our melting pot, we don’t like to talk about our differences. Here, however, I enjoy joining in the sport, nodding knowingly about how the Livornesi are such and the Bolognesi so, but not half as bad as the rest. I also take comfort when I fight with a friend to discover that the problem is not me, but the fact that he’s Sardinian, and everyone knows how the Sardinians are.
Rarely does anyone seem to get offended by this unabashed stereotyping. Faced with a lengthy list of their people’s character flaws, the response I’ve most often heard is, “Yeah, and…?” This may be because it has the gentle ribbing of sibling rivalry to it. At the end of the day, Livornesi and Lucchesi, like all Tuscans, religiously wear slippers in the house, never swim after lunch and aspirate their C’s.
As differences grow greater, matters get touchier. Northern vs. Southern Italy, for instance, is another popular game, but given the economic and historical rift, the flinging back and forth of terroni [loosely, “earth-grubbers”] for the southerners and polentoni [“polenta-heads”, equally loosely] for the northerners, no matter how amusing to foreign ears, can get nasty.
If you’re a foreigner in Italy, you might distract the crowd by throwing in your own nationality and its baggage of stereotypes. If you’re, say, Dutch, this might amount to little more than clog-wearing and excessive height. In my case, sparking a healthy round of “Americans are…and Italians are…” is a near given.
Cultural differences are fascinating; the way culture influences everything from the creases on your face from pulling your culture’s habitual expressions to deeply held beliefs about the order of the universe and how one catches colds. This makes the game irresistible. But beware the slippery slopes.
Once I watched in embarrassment as a fellow American, still under the effect of culture shock, told a Livornese man at length exactly how Italians are (and the news wasn’t good), and what made her the expert was because she’d lived here for nine years. If he weren’t as affable as all Livornesi, he might have suggested his 35 years in Italy had her beat.
Of course, this is a two-way street. Fueled by lifetimes of images of America and Americans, Italians often ask me different versions of, “Are you guys really like that?” Sometimes the answer is easy, like when a friend asked if American homes were really as full of table lamps as seen on TV. Yes, they are. Other times, representing and explaining 250 million people and our mosaic culture makes me sweat. Though I take most pronouncements made about us in stride, there are times (“You’re pretty intelligent for an American!”) when the line is crossed.
The safest bet to avoid ugliness in the stereotype game is, of course, not to play at all. But, that’s no fun. Better to tread lightly when your generalizations get unflattering, and keep firmly in mind that you’re a guest in a foreign culture, which won’t always make sense to you, and that (as all Italians always say): “Il mondo è bello perchè è vario” (The world’s beauty is in its variety).
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Retreat and Inspiration in Tuscany Sting: Life... is... f*ing... tough. Here I am in Tuscany. Stewart Copeland: And don't we know it! You're in Tuscany in your palace with wine being poured down your throat and grapes being peeled for you. For Sting and generations of British artists in Italy, and Tuscany in its special way, has been a place of decadence, escape and artistic inspiration. Sting and his wife, Trudie Styler, have keyed into Tuscany as a magical escape, making their villa in Figline Valdarno a yoga and wellness retreat (www.palagioretreats.com). Sting has also used his Tuscan home as a recording studio and performance space, recording the live album All This Time here in 2001. He was even (controversially) asked to find inspiration amongst his grapes and olives to write an anthem for Tuscany. E.M. Forster (1879–1970) was a British novelist known for writing about the quest for truth, beauty and love, particularly for the tightly-buttoned British upper class of his day. His stays in Italy seem to have brought him to the conclusion that these wonders are best found in the orderly beauty of the Tuscan landscape. He gave Italy credit for sending him “going as a novelist”. Two of his early novels (Room with a View and Where Angels Fear to Tread) set Italy as a counterpoint and antidote to England, where Italy is sun, light, joy, beauty and passion. Nonetheless, at the time, England had a pronounced superiority complex over Italy, or more specifically, over Italians. The magic and inspiration of Italy was thought to come from the landscape and the ancient art, held in as high regard as the Italian people were held in low. In Room with a View, Forster parodies this attitude in Eleanor Lavish, a “lady novelist” come to Florence for inspiration, to breathe in that “true Florentine smell”, delighting extravagantly in the “dear simple souls of Italians” and their presumed violent, passionate, animal nature. Echoing these views, but with more disdain than delight, Percy Bysshe Shelley (British Romantic poet, 1792–1822) wrote, “The modern Italians seem a miserable people – without sensibility or imagination or understanding.” He and his wife, Mary Shelley, set out for Italy in 1920, finding a home in Pisa, seeking refuge from a scandal they left in their wake in England, where Shelley abandoned his young, pregnant wife (who then committed suicide) for the sixteen-year-old Mary. Here in Italy, Mary Shelley conceived the idea for Frankenstein, and Percy Shelley had the most prolific period of his prolific career here, writing works such as Prometheus Unbound and “On Love”. The Shelleys’ intimate friend and fellow Romantic poet, Lord Byron (1788-1824), was also profoundly connected to Italy throughout his life. He joined the Shelleys in Pisa in 1821. The hedonistic, scandalous, but fêted, Byron made the Shelleys (and most others) look tame and conventional. Shelley wrote of him, “I daresay you have heard of the life he lived in Venice, rivaling the wise Solomon in the number of his concubines”. Unlike most of his fellow expatriates in Italy (which Shelley called “The Paradise of exiles – the retreat of Pariahs”), Byron very much consorted with the “natives”. His great, final love was Teresa Guiccioli, an Italian countess, through whom he became involved in the Italian revolutionary movement. During his time with her in Italy, he wrote three cantos of Don Juan, a satirical romance, the Prophecy of Dante, and four poetic dramas. D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) was another scandal-raising British writer who spent much time in Italy. He wrote many works about Italy, including Twilight in Italy, Sketches of Etruscan Places, and Sea and Sardinia. None of these caused any shock, unlike his wholly unchaste 1928 novel Lady Chatterley’s Lover, a celebration of sexual love about an affair between an upper class woman and lower class man. Published privately in Florence in 1928, it was not published in England until 1960, when it sparked a famous obscenity trial. His fellow believer in truth, beauty and Italy, E.M. Forster, was among the defenders of its literary worth at the trial. ______________
International dance in Florence In the sad old days, when the world was much larger, peoples in every distant pocket of it had to invent their own ways of moving their bodies and making music to communicate, seek spiritual and physical harmony and get their groove on.
Course prices are scaled so that the more classes you take at the center monthly, the less each class costs. You can sample your first class for free. Classes for children are available in African dance and theatre. For more information:
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miriamhurley@mac.com
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