Bleeding Espresso

Yesterday over at Twitter, the always lovely and informative ExpatCoach asked those of us with, ahem, Italian experience to fill in the blank:

You know you’re in Italy when…

A smattering of what ExpatCoach, Cherrye, Miss Expatria, Tina, and I came up with, within minutes:

• …you can have a conversation with a stranger comprised entirely of facial expressions, hand gestures, and no words.
• …you can say, “Boh?” and you’ve said a mouthful.
• …you have to APPLY to complete an application for something.
• …you wait in line for three hours at the Post Office…to pay a bill.
• …your taxi driver’s hands are too busy waving & threatening other drivers to actually touch the steering wheel.
• …you pour the wine over-handed and your guests gasp and bless themselves.
• …your ability to digest milk (at any time of day) and drink ice cold drinks even while eating hot food astounds.
• …perfect strangers worry about your catching a cold because you’re not dressed warmly enough. In July.
• …you’re handed a scarf when you say your throat feels a bit scratchy.
• …you’re the only person at IKEA without their entire extended family in tow.
• …someone you just met invites you to dinner at their house.
• …€5 on a bottle of wine is a splurge.
• …posted schedules, hours of operation, etc. mean precisely nothing (except sciopero ones).
• …someone, somewhere is in sciopero.
• …you get honked at for letting an old lady cross the street.
• …someone thinks your turkey wrap is a foreign food they’d never touch.
• …your friend says “I quit drinking coffee. Now I only have three cups a day.”
• …you find figs on your doorstep.

And now I’ll add:

• …your morning errands take you to one shop for produce, another for bread, another for cheese, and yet another for meat–and you love every single minute of it.

I thought this woud be a fun weekend fill-in, so Italophiles, play along please:

You know you’re in Italy when…

Need some inspiration?

And be sure to visit ExpatCoach at Career By Choice and show her some love!

Buon weekend!

P.S. Cherrye of My Bella Vita has made baked potatOes for La Buona Cucina Americana today!

P.P.S. No that O in “potatOes” wasn’t a typo. It’s because the O Foods for Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month Contest continues (details here); send in your recipe and a donation to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund today!

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In the last group of questions, two specifically addressed my settling into life here in southern Italy. I shall do my best to answer them. (Not sure why these photos aren’t very crisp, but please do click on them to see them in better quality on Flickr.)

(1) AmberBee of Under Western Skies, formerly of Quasi Italiana!, asked “Do you think that you would feel as settled in a large city, or do you think your small community there (and the fact that you can get to know everyone) has helped you feel welcome there, and that it is really ‘home?’ Do you think your happiness quotient would have changed had you lived in a different part of Italy… Or would Italy have been ‘home’ no matter where you live there?”

This is an excellent question, AmberBee. Let me say that I felt at home in this village from the first time I visited, when I knew no one, spoke no Italian let alone Calabrese and had a very responsible job and promising career ahead of me in the States.

When I was here that first time, I felt like my soul connected with this place on a level I couldn’t make sense of myself. I cried when it when it was time to go home, even though I knew I would be back. In fact, I knew a few days into my trip that I would live here–a silly proposition, really, for someone who couldn’t speak the language and knew no one in the country.

I didn’t know when I would live here and for how long, but it was almost like I didn’t have a choice. And looking back, I’m not sure I did.

When I did go back to the States for a few months, this place pulled me back every day even though I was perfectly happy to spend hours on end with my niece and nephew there. But there was just *something* inside of me telling me where I needed to be, and it was here.

No, I don’t think it’s “Italy” in general or even “Calabria” that I call “home.” It’s this village. And yes, I do think that P, his family and the welcoming neighbors have helped me get settled, and I believe that’s exactly the way it was meant to be.

I hope that answers your question.

(2) Vita asked: “Do you have some philosophy or view point about that - like that Italians have simpler, happier lives? I know that’s a very personal question and I know people have asked about what you miss in the States and I’ve read those posts (coffee, etc..) but I’m wondering about more esoteric ideas - like the way Americans are direct. The way things get done more efficiently - or, have you somehow moved through that and found that the way of life in Italy is somehow more satisfying to your soul?”

Oh Vita, where can I begin? I’m not a high-strung person by nature. The rat race never attracted me even when I was in school with quite a few rats (and snakes and worms, etc.). I don’t need things done yesterday, and I certainly don’t need everything I could ever imagine available to me 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Quite frankly, I don’t need very many “things” at all.

So is the laid-back, simpler Italian (village) lifestyle more satisfying to my soul? Well, I’d say yes. I have simple needs when it comes right down to it, and as a Libra, I can even be overwhelmed by too many choices.

But do I think Italians are happier because of the general way of life here? Intrinsically, no, I don’t think so. I know a lot of Italians who get just as fed up with inefficiency and waiting as the average American would and who would love to give Telecom and, ahem, Berlusconi a swift kick where the sole don’t shine.

Here’s my thing: Happiness is an individual thing, and I’m lucky/blessed to be in charge of my own happiness–not everyone has this luxury. Even better, every moment gives me a new opportunity to choose happiness. How cool is that?

I’ve found my happy place, quite literally, and no, it’s not paradise all the time, but what fun would life be if there were no lemons? You all know I love lemons.

More questions answered next Monday!

If you have any, leave them in the comments!

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Visions of love from Catanzaro Lido:

Happy Love Thursday everyone!

And by the way, when is the last time *you* held someone’s hand?

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Last weekend Cherrye of My Bella Vita, Dawn (blogless! scandalous!), and I met up at Il Cedro in Catanzaro for our 2nd annual Calabrian Women’s Summit. Remember how much fun we had last year?

As we now know of two other American women (two!) in Calabria, look for the event to grow and hopefully become more frequent as well!

We’re already planning to get together to see Sex and the City (in Italian–boo) next weekend . . . yes it opens here on May 30 just like for most of you. Are you going? I only started watching Carrie and the girls here a few months ago, but I’m just as addicted as everyone else who has been with the ladies for years.

Will she and Big *really* get married?!

Anyway, Cherrye gives a great rundown of this year’s Summit with photos here, so do head over and check it out. We had a blast! Woohoo!

For my part, I’m going to share some photos of Catanzaro Lido and get those of you in the States geared up for the long weekend with some beach shots:

The Lungomare:

Setting up for the summer:

Boys in the water (there was a cool breeze, but they didn’t feel it):

This little one retreated every time the water came near–water was cold to her!

Puppy in the grass appropriately acting out the theme song of the weekend, “It Wasn’t Me” by Shaggy–I *dare* you not to dance or sing along if you click on that link.

Read more about this lovely Bottlebrush (aka Feather duster to me) in the comment on Flickr here:

And a final shot of Catanzaro Lido:

Summer’s just about here!

Don’t forget check out Judy’s Over a Tuscan Stove for this week’s La Buona Cucina America recipe– Buffalo Wings!–and also my guest blog appearance over at Lucky Dorito!

Buon weekend!

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You’re relaxing in the Strait of Messina between Calabria and Sicily, enjoying the perfectly still water and air.

All is right with the world, you think, as you sip the local red.

You gaze into the glistening water and suddenly you feel like you’re closer to the island of Sicily than you thought you were. Indeed, it looks like you could reach out and touch it!

Is this what a sun stroke feels like?

Have you enjoyed a bit too much vino?

The history of southern Italy goes back as far as civilization itself, and so do many of her superstitions (malocchio anyone?) and myths–including the famous legend of the Fata Morgana, the Fairy Morgan, half-sister of King Arthur.

The story goes that as Roger de Hauteville sat on the coast of our bella Calabria dreaming of a Norman conquering of Sicily, he caught a whiff of orange blossoms and heard celebratory music coming from the Tyrrhenian Sea.

A hermit (clearly breaking Hermit Code) informed Roger that the melodies arose from Sicily, where Saracens were dancing and partying as Christians suffered in slavery.

Roger wanted to go over immediately, but he didn’t have ships to cross the Strait (and dang it, there was no ferry at the time). So he sat some more on the beach, as many of us do, wondering what to do next.

Improvvisamente a fairy with a magical coach and seven white horses appeared before him and offered to transport him to the island.

Roger refused her help, which angered the Fairy Morgan. In retaliation, she threw three stones into the sea making Sicily appear achingly within the reach of Roger.

He stood his ground, though, and proclaimed that he didn’t need the help of some fairy to conquer Sicily–all he needed was the help of Jesus Christ!

The fairy and her illusions disappeared, and later on, Roger did get to Sicily with his own ships and conquered the island in the name of Jesus Christ.

Indeed, he is now known as Roger I of Sicily.

It is said that the image seen by Roger still appears off the coast of Reggio Calabria often on mornings following cold nights when there is calm, still air and water. The shore of Sicily appears reflected in and above the sea, with buildings lengthened and deformed, depicting a colorful, moving, magical city of Messina.

This meteorological (and some say mythical) mirage is knows as the Fata Morgana, and she patiently awaits your arrival. You have to buy the wine though.

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