Week One: People and Animals
PEOPLE
We bumped into someone we know this morning! The exclamation point is warranted because this was a momentous event. The person we bumped into was not anyone we know from home, but someone we met here. A Florentine! I heard my name being called as I passed by our favorite cafe. It was Antonia, the woman who owns the antique shop on the corner. We met her at a flea market in San Spirito a few days ago. She recognized us, called to us and introduced us to her daughter who had just returned from a trip to the coast where she experienced an earthquake. We chatted for a bit, she in perfect English and we in broken (shattered actually) Italian. It was a social victory to be sure.
Here are the other people we have met in the last week:
Harold is now buddy-buddy with Roberto who owns the local wine shop. Doesn't it just figure Roberto would be Harold's first friend?
Harold also shoots the breeze with the guy who owns the local mozzarella shop...yes, a shop dedicated to nothing else but freshly made mozzarella. We are going to be regulars.
I retained a manicurist named Ciara who is giving me Italian lessons once a week while she does my nails.
These are the people in my neighborhood...the people who I meet as I'm walking down the street, they're the people that I meet each day. (That should have been sung.)
Along with the Vietnamese, Italians seem to us to be the nicest people in the world. We have yet to encounter a person who has been anything other than friendly and helpful. They do not sneer at you as the French often do when you mispronounce common words. I mentioned this to Ciara the other day, and she guffawed while assuring me that while Italians are just wonderful to the hordes of tourists that swarm their streets each day, they are, in fact, absolutely monstrous to each other. I had no reason to believe her. Not until I stood in line at the Agenzia Entrate today for my second attempt to get a certificato di atribuzione del codice fiscale which we need in order to stay here for more than thirty days. It seems bureaucracies worldwide bring out the worst in people. Each person who made it up to the counter after an excruciatingly long wait, screamed bloody murder at the poor clerk. I can only imagine the amount of alcohol this poor woman must consume at the end of each godawful day. I wish we didn't need that stupid certification because now the bloom is off the rose as far as the Italians go. They can be just as cranky as anyone else.
A few other observations: Thirty-four years ago I was told that you could always identify Americans in Italy because they wore sneakers and Italians didn't. Italians always wore nice shoes. Well, Italians finally got the memo because sneakers are ubiquitous now. And we all know that once you spend a day in comfortable sneakers there is no turning back. I wore bejeweled high tops to my niece's April wedding.
Italian men, for the most part, are very handsome.
Italian babies stay up very late. We see plenty of them outside as late as 11:00 pm.
ANIMALS
Good God in Heaven, there are way too many dogs here! We have a dog. We love our dog. We miss our dog. But we don't take our dog to restaurants. Or into grocery stores. And we generally turn our heads when he tries to kiss us on the lips. Dogs are people here. They go wherever people go. And there are brazen displays of interspecies affection everywhere you look. I'm sorry, it's just gross. Plus, I think I miss many a beautiful sight because I am always looking down to ensure I don't step in poop. Even when I stop for a brief moment to look up I see dogs!
Dogs are not the only members of the mammal family we have encountered. Yesterday we saw a man walking his ferret on a leash. I thought ferret, Harold thought Marmot. Our Google research indicated it was indeed a ferret. They are very small. And they look ridiculous attached to a leash.
In one of the local cafes we spotted a man with a bag full of baby leopards. It was evident he loved them very much. I hope he washed his mouth last night.

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ReplyDeleteHarold