Don't Get Me Started!

Okay, I give! When I started to write about a life in Italy, I had made a decision to highlight only the positives. After-all, how could a life in retirement on the Riviera be anything but positive? Well, hold on; here I present a few of the challenges of living in Italy.

Speaking

The following is an example of what Italians hear when I speak . . .

First must tell about the language problem. When talking I translate every word and think I will never talk well until I'm thinking too the language. When entering a shop first explain I, my Italian is poor and hoping that they speak English to me, I ask always, "speak you English?" they answer always, "a little," which really mean, "nothing!" When this happen I must find the words to get what I want.

I've recently stopped explaining that my Italian is limited; I think they get that right off.

Driving

One has a year, from the date of becoming a "resident" to obtain an Italian driver's license. I got my "residency" in 2008 and, if I had been told at that time about the driving requirement, I could have taken the test in English. Instead, through an unfortunate incident another American experienced, I found out about this requirement only last year, I also found out that the test was now ONLY offered in Italian, German and French. No problem, thought I, I'll just study the 800 pages of True/False test questions, written in an "Italian" one never hears in the shops!

Without anymore unnecessary information (I'd have to tell you the details in private),  I can now claim that I possess a driver's license from a different E.U. country which respects the fact that I've been driving safely for almost forty years.

One more thing about the driving here; I'm not convinced that Italian drivers obtain licenses by passing exams. 

Eating 

Since I'm putting my cards on the table, let me talk about what else you'll find on an Italian table.

I, of course, LOVE Italian food and since living here, I have tweaked my Italian recipes and techniques to better align myself with what's considered proper Italian cooking. I now make lasagna with a proper besciamella. I now use less garlic and when I do, it's used correctly. My pasta is cooked according to the time listed on the package. I make my own tomato sauce from home grown tomatoes. I prepare and eat smaller portions of meat and I always know where and when the animal was born, raised and killed. 

I eat raw sausage with the best of the Cerianaschi. And yet . . . I'm craving:  hamburgers, burritos, tacos, American/Chinese take-out, Indian Food, and Twinkies.

When Rich and I go out to dinner here, it's a sure bet it's Italian! And it really doesn't matter where we end up, it's all good, but . . . 

 Vacationing

It seems Italians might be a bit unadventurous; they love what they have; it's usually the best, and that's that! This contentment with all things Italian, if it can be called that, extends from their tables to their leisure time. August 15th rolls around and the bulk of the population is on vacation, destined to the same lidi their families have enjoyed for generations. Italians love their beaches; really, what's not to love about a beach? Italian pediatricians still recommend several weeks of sunshine for their young patients; thus imprinting sun-worship from a very early age.  Beaches here are organized in rows. Rows upon rows of beach chairs or beds. Rows upon rows of umbrellas. It's all very organized, it's all very regular, it's all very Italian. 

Occasionally an Italian couple might take an exotic vacation to, say, the U.S., or the Maldives, or Machu Picchu, but usually only if it's an organized tour with other Italian couples. They go as a delegation so that they're never without the comfort of their countrymen. In a pack, there's always someone who's better with the language; someone who's better with the money; someone who's been there before and knows where to find the best Italian restaurant!

in somma . . . 

We Americans are spoiled by endless variety, our many choices. The very fabric of America is woven with diversity; diversity and variety defines us, it's our mindset, and we are uncomfortable when choices are few. 

So, aren't we really just like them; looking to find comfort in what we know best? 

That's not really a "negative" is it?