Vespa scooters. Flowing scarves. Men wearing scarves. Men wearing capris. Gorgeous tans. Shouting. Hand gestures. Pasta! This is Italy. It IS cool. The people here say and do cool things. You are correct to feel this way. Here are some of the cool things I've seen.
What a Shot! - You'll hear Italians at a bar order "un cafe." They will not receive a 12-ounce cup of coffee. The barista will hand them an itty-bitty cup with an espresso shot that doesn't even reach the top of the itty-bitty cup. Americans would be outraged! "Where's my freegin' coffee?" But, whoa! Have one of these first thing in the morning and you'll see why they're such the national habit. My whole brain exploded open with happy feelings and positive thoughts about myself and the world. I felt like an emotional superhero. Anything was possible! No wonder they don't dilute these small, magical shots with water or milk, usually. It's like drinking a bullet. Whoosh! Jewelry for the Youth - Teenage Italian boys and their jewelry - it's a love affair. Big diamond studs in both ears, gold hoop earrings, large gold chain necklaces, gold chain bracelets, rings; you name it, they're wearing it. I don't see it quite as much with older men here. They seem to grow out of the phase and whittle down to a favorite saint medallion on a chain. But, bejeweled is a very pronounced style for guys aged 15 - 24 or so. I dig it. It looks so...Italian. Eminem - Okay, okay, so I've never heard so much Eminen in my life as I have in Italy. To be fair, I'm hearing this music a lot at the weight room. (La palestra! I love it.) But there is something about the angsty, driving, pissed-off energy of Eminem that suits young muscle builders of all nations. I noticed this pattern also in Bulgaria. Many people just LOVE Eminem. Right next to him on the most-heard list would be Bulldog, but he's a known master of "International Love." I think we love and mock Eminem in the U.S. Here, it's just love. Oh, and Macklemore came through the gym speakers, which made me burst with Seattle pride. America Rocks! - I was humbled to the point of tears (maybe some travel exhaustion, and heat-and-foreign-language exhaustion mixed in) at an event in Milan that was sort of an American music singalong and dance night. For more than three hours, about two hundred and fifty Italians sang every dang word to countless American pop songs. Holy moly! If you are making music in the U.S. and it's on the radio, you are filling the world, not just the U.S., with your music. Honestly, it made it feel like a true responsibility. You can impact millions. Why not write something inspiring? In the end, though, it's all about music that makes people want to move, release energy, yell, and be happy. We make a lot of that music. "Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night" is a major winner, too. Ask the four hundred, mostly-white Brits I saw moshing and screaming at a festival recently about spending most their lives "living in a Gangsta Paradise." American music is everywhere and a lot of people love it and have it memorized. Different Tan - How do I explain the gorgeousness of the tans some Italians cook themselves into? It's an area of devotion. The tan is begun with great care at the beginning of the season. One does not want to burn. But, once it's begun, it is darkened with a passion and focus one can only admire. And, wow, the warm, brown, golden tones, nearing very deep brown, that some Italians create is utterly beautiful. I know there are mix of genetics going on and not everyone is the same so I'm thinking there is a magical quality in the sunlight. I, too, am more wonderfully tan than normal. Whatever it is, it's sexy and beautiful. Minimal Working Out - Americans seem obsessed with working out compared to people in other parts of the world. I've noticed this in pretty much every country I've visited. We go to the gym or run or do Zumba or yoga or HIIT workouts a lot more than other nations. We KNOW about this stuff. My Italian friend hadn't even heard of the Keto diet and I wasn't surprised. No pasta? Basta! While being lean and buff makes sense to Italians, especially young guys, it's more cool to hang out in the piazza and be chill and kind.
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I've been wanting to write about my incredible hostess, Tiziana. She lived in Australia from age 6 to age 24, but other than that, this woman is all Italy. Even her time in Australia was as an Italian immigrant, hanging out mostly with other immigrants, Italian or otherwise. She speaks Australian-accented English very well, but her heart is in Italy.
And, she seems to have a zillion ways that Italy can help me be a better person. The Bikini - First on the list, of course, is the bikini. But, here's the deal. We didn't go to zillion shops at a zillion malls and exhaust ourselves. We went to the main mall in her town, to the one swimsuit shop, tried on the few options in my size with colors and styles I liked, and picked one. She emphasizes simplicity and easy flow. Cooking - I've now received lessons on how to cook risotto, pasta (so many varieties), tiramisu, lasagna, and a frittata. Tiziana's ability to combine the food, pick fresh ingredients, and time the addition of salt or herbs really teaches me so much. Just today, during the frittata lesson, she said to let the zuchinni cook out its own juices then add the salt when it's about half cooked. She put freegin' nutmeg...in a frittata. Just a bit and it tasted so wonderful. She also said that mint is a nice option but she didn't have fresh mint so she didn't add it...to a frittata. Am I right? It's gotta be fresh, healthy, and honored - all the food. Tiny Cars - I'm just gonna say, Italians are great drivers. Are Americans? Certainly, at times. And, we're dealing with different challenges like huge freeways, hundreds of cars around us, and large, complicated interchanges. In Italy, what's so darn impressive is people's agility and ability to park and drive in extra small spaces. They just figure it out. There's no freeway built for F150s. And, beyond that, ancient cities barely fit cars at times. So, Tiziana can park on a dime, and share a narrow "shouldn't this be a one-way?" road. It's impressive. Non! - Certain things are just a no. Having cream in a pasta sauce? Non! Grating cheese onto a pasta dish that has fish in it? Non! Drinking a cappuccino with dinner? Non! (So American!) Having milk in your coffee, other than a macchiato (marked) or a cappuccino after 1 pm? Non! We have no's as well in the States, but there is something about the adamancy and the chin-dropped head shake that communicates utter certainty that no further discussion shall be tolerated. Non! Let's... - Italians include each other in activities more often. There is less individual or alone time. Maybe it's just me, since I love-ah alone-ah time-ah. But, do I? I've been more social and go-along-to-get-along and it's nice. Tiziana, her son, her daughter, her sister, it's no big deal for them to include me in their lives. And, it's no big deal for the people in their lives to include me in their lives. It's a more-the-merrier culture, certainly compared to my Seattle circle, where people search their schedules and sigh as they can't seem to fit in another thing. Tiziana includes me in lots of stuff and I appreciate it. Go Slow - I can really use support here. I often say that I was "raised in a hurry." I am used to hurrying. We Americans, in general, rush really well. We multi-task. We jam in the activities and exhaust ourselves. Italians? Non! There is an uncool vibe with hurrying. What's pleasant and respectful is to enjoy the moment, go slowly, allow others to take there time, and be calm, as needed. It does wonders for the nervous system. I can't count the number of times Tiziana said to me, "Don't worry. No rush." Thanks, Tiziana! I've just returned from the gym. I put a sign up there asking if anyone would like English conversation practice in exchange for speaking to me in Italian. We'll see how it goes!
Some recent highlights include: The Blessing - Wow, Italians know how to put on a healing! August 15 is a major holiday in Italy. It's the feast of the Assumption of Mary. People take the day off, eat a meal with their family, and attend mass. We went to a very special mass in a very beautiful church called Santuario Madonna delle Bozzola. More on the church next. After mass, there was a special blessing for the sick. It took about one and half hours. In the moment where the priest was walking around passing on the blessing, after a lot of prayer and preparation, I could feel the energy of the crowd. Some people were moving family members closer to the priest. They were stepping out of the way to make sure their love ones healed. It was extremely moving and made me think about how so many cultures have practices of blessing and healing. Italy's was golden, filled with music, and incredibly well-organized. Immense Faith - About 500 years ago a young girl had a miracle apparition of Mary at the church we attended. So, they have an altar behind the main altar where people can pray for special miracles. And, they do! And, it works! Hanging down the very long walls next to the altar are silver hearts, set in blue or red circles. Each silver heart represents an answered prayer, a great thing that occurred for someone. It's absolutely stunning; an ornate, inspiring wall of faith. Again, I was very moved by what I saw, which is to say that I cried. Il Lago di Como - Welp, I'm in love. We got out of the car in Como, a city on the southernmost shore of Lake Como, and I immediately thought, "I like it here." More green than where I am, with tall hillsides dropping to a greenish, gorgeous lake. I felt a bit of Seattle and, yet, saw enough villas to ensure me I was still in Italy. There is not a view or a glance that isn't romantic and idyllic. Ricotta in the Crust - Yes, we have stuffed-crust pizza in the U.S. But, the Napolese way of stuffing a crust tastes and chews so differently. First, the crust is perfectly chewy. It takes a little bit to get it down and the flavor and, again, chewiness feel divine. So delicious! Meanwhile, they put ricotta in the crust and it, too, is divine adding up to a pizza of such great divinity that I had to close my eyes while I ate it. Mama mia! Thank you, Napoli! By the way, our waiter let us know that no substitutions can be made to the pizzas on the menu so that the balance of flavors is not disturbed. I'm in! They're getting it right. I concede to their wisdom and greatness. One Hour of Italian - My extremely patient hostess offered that I could speak Italian as much as I wanted to on the drive to Como. (I must sigh and take a deep breath just thinking about it. I had to steel myself for the experience.) I managed just over an hour. After six days here, that feels like a miracle. We actually had fun and I understood a joke or two. Grazie, Tiziana! Now, we're going to hang out with our new farmer friend Massimo, then Tiziana's family comes to dinner tonight. I'll be humbled by the fast-moving Italian and I better have my notebook ready. It's where I write words I'm learning and there are plenty in there already. Hugs and love from near Milano! rI'm interested in how people live their day-to-day life. I've traveled enough to know that it's different everywhere and not to be freaked out by what other people consider fun or weird. Just nod and enjoy the experience of their world.
Here are some of the latest Italian knowings I've noticed. Waiting for the Gurgle - La Santa Caffettiera. Italian's favorite way to make coffee comes with extremely fervent instructions. I've been through the lesson twice. One extra-expressive, gay landlord I had in Bologna held it above his head with both hands and spit out a series of statements like, "E santissima! E sagrada! E la piu buona del mondo." Now that I'm actually using the sacred coffee maker in the morning, I've learned that you must wait for the gurgle sound when the water's boiled through the grounds. There's no stepping away and burning your coffee. So, I stay and wait for the gurgle. I Have a Bikini - The other fervent message (there are so many in Italy) that I must get a bikini resulted in a tour through about seven of them yesterday until we landed on a turquoise number with little fabric flowers on the hip. It's both sporty and sweet, and it's a major upgrade in my Italiana-ness. Hooray! We go to the coast on Friday for the weekend. Sto pronta! (I'm ready!) Burraco, Anche Santissima - Another sacred item, the card game Burraco. I cannot believe it but I got to sit with three 60+ Italian women, and my friend Tiziana, and play a game much like gin rummy. I witnessed intermittent arguing about Diana and Charles and if she was unwittingly trapped or made her own bad choice. I learned the suits: quadri (diamonds), fiori (clubs), picche (spades), and cuori (hearts). We play again tomorrow afternoon (domani pomerrigio) and I'm feeling so excited and social. Parties at Castles - We have Hearst Castle in California, and maybe a few others sprinkled throughout the States. Italy has 45,000+ castles, towers, and villas. And, they use them to have fun. We went to an outdoor Ennio Morricone tribute concert at the castle in Milan, then went to an outdoor movie in Vigevano's castle (Visconti-Sforza Castle) by the famous director Gabriele Salvatore. "Il Ritorno di Cassanova" (I understood about 10 - 15% of the dialogue - pretty good!) Hanging out in a castle feels rich and exciting, in a historic sense. Good work, Italians! Open hearts with lots of arts. Now I'm taking my cramping calf (hot night last night) to the gym for a workout. "Piano, piano" means little by little or slowly. I'll give my calf the piano, piano treatment today. Much love to all of you! I'm not "Eat, Pray, Love" or "Under the Tuscan Sun." I'm more "sweat all day and night and eat salty foods so I don't get a calf cramp." And, it's pretty fun!
I met a friend in July who lives in Vigevano, Italy. She's kind, generous, and has two empty bedrooms where her kids used to stay. Now, I'm occupying the daughter's room for a few weeks until I either stay on in Europe or head back to the US for a while. What's fun about Italy? Here goes. Lots of Salty Food - I can't emphasize enough how much sweating is happening. This heat doesn't end and the hostess-with-the-mostess is Italian and doesn't like A/C. I respect and admire the choice. I'm just...hot...most of the time. Massimo - I met the most wonderfully Italian man who is an egg and chrysanthemum farmer. The flowers are for the Day of the Dead celebrations at the end of October. He grows them in a large greenhouse with help from his dad and son. The eggs he produces year round. It's really a beautiful life. And, he thinks my Italian is bravissima. That's kind. My Italian - Welp, I'm getting a lot of English in return for my efforts at speaking Italian which tells you that my Italian needs strengthening; accent, vocabulary, and pronunciation. I have Harry Potter books to read, which helps because I know, I mean, I adore the stories. I also will have a bike to ride soon so I can find unassuming elderly Italian people who are seated somewhere and encourage a slow-paced conversation with lots of correcting. That is my dream. Tan - I may never have been this tan in my whole life. And, my hostess is offended that I don't where a bikini at the beach. At 46, I figured my bikini days were done but here every woman (most every) wears a bikini, into their golden years. We'll get me one this week so I don't continue to embarrass myself at the water. Ideas Welcome - I've never been quite so nomadic. I left my condo behind, rented out, and am free to wander. I may end up in California for a while. That would be nice. If you have any ideas on where I can go to see wonderful things, please chime in. Much love to everyone who is cozy in their beds on the West Coast of the States. I have a big part of my heart with all of you as I know you're my people and I love you so much. |
AuthorI write here about comedy, improv, intuition, and anything else that's fun. Archives
September 2023
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