I know my posts here tend to lean toward sunny cheer, but let me say that living in Italy is far from perfect. Despite being here more than two years, there are a few things that Italians do that I haven't quite adjusted to yet.
Ready? Andiamo!
Asking My Story
Okay, this is just me being a brat, but after the 500th person asks how I ended up in Calabria, where I'm from, whether I'm Italian, and what I do for work, it gets a bit tedious.
I joked with Fra that I want a t-shirt that says:
I moved here after my son graduated because I wanted to completely change my life.
No, I'm not Italian. Not even a little bit.
I'm from San Diego (because Italians don't know where Arkansas is!)
I'm a journalist.
I appreciate that everyone's curious about how a non-Italian ended up here, but please. Don't ask!
Talking About America
If you didn't know, Italy is obsessed with America. Our pop culture, politics, food...it's all part of the conversation. And Italians assume that:
a) I'm up to date on American news
b) I want to talk about America
A big relief living in Italy is that I can more easily tune out the 24/7 talking heads. I realize now just how obsessed with bad news Americans are. They'll chew a news story until it's decimated...then they'll call in experts to talk about it some more.
Italians follow news stories to a degree, and they always want my take on it. In all honesty, I'm burying my head in the sand right now in regard to American politics, and I'm glad not to live there, so the last thing I want to do is talk about He Who Shall Not Be Named!
Telling Me How Great Christopher Columbus Is
Fra's dad loves teasing me about how Italians discovered America and how we Americans owe a great deal of thanks to them. He's joking, but I gotta tell you...Christopher Columbus comes up waaaay too much in casual conversation.
Italians are proud of him. They obviously didn't hear the version of history that tells us that he never stepped foot on North American soil, and he enslaved the natives. So...yea...thanks Italy!
Singing on a Bus
I'm trying to realize when I encounter something that Italians do that is very different from what Americans do that it's a cultural difference, and that I'm the odd woman out.
Take the bus trip we went on in December. It was late at night and they started singing. But not just one or two songs. TWO HOURS OF MUSIC!
If this was a bus of Americans, the lights would be dimmed and it would be quiet so people could sleep. Not so with the Italians!
I was irritated but quickly realized that I was the only one. Sigh.
All Talking at Once
The first time I attended a large family dinner, I was in disbelief at how six out of nine people were all talking simultaneously, none listening to one another.
I, of course, remained quiet. I'm much quieter a person here in Italy, mainly because I can't get a word in edgewise!
Now I've learned to tune them out!
Insisting I Eat More
The first meal I had with Fra's family, I accepted the heaping serving of pasta Mamma gave me, forgetting it would be followed by an equally heaped serving of meat. Then salad. And fruit.
I've learned to be forceful about how much I can eat, so now Mamma half-heaps the pasta and asks me if it's enough. Sometimes I tell her it's too much and she halfheartedly removes a strand or two before giving me the plate.
Italians show love with food, and that's been an adjustment, especially coming from a diet culture.
Despite these annoying things Italians do, I love them, loud and pushy though they can sometimes be!
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