Neighborhood Scenes
August 13, 2004
Ciao, amici.
Camminiamo, e camminiamo. (We walk, and we walk.)
Thom and I apparently are going to keep the local shoe craftsmen in business. We walked for hours today, but along the way found, in our neighborhood, a couple of butchers, a few pastry shops, a bread baker, and a couple of great markets with all sorts of prosciutto, hard and soft cheeses, olives, and pasta, etc. We’re even finally clear when people give us their days/hours, so that makes things easier. We’ve both been surprised by how few folks on the back streets speak English, but maybe that’s a good thing in this case, since it will force us to have to learn more quickly.
Learned an important lesson at the market today: It’s important to say “Basta cosi” (that’s enough) when you’ve got enough of a product you want. Apparently, even if you use hand signals in advance or say “piccolo/a” (small), they’re going to keep scooping until you holler “Basta cosi!” Three pounds of oil-cured olives later, I realized this was the case. The grocer was a sport, though.
Halfway along on today’s blister-inducing journey we found a pretty park and stopped to study. These little Italian boys (bambini) were playing on a small playground that was set up, so we sat there smiling stupidly, thinking how charming it was — until they started beating the living hell out of each other, yelling “Va’via! Va’via!” (“Piss off”; slang, had to look that one up). Their chain-smoking nonna (grandmother) had to come sternly marching up and give them each a fat swat in the forehead to get them to behave. Our idyllic scene of Everyday Italian Life seemed to have taken a wrong turn somewhere…
Parlo italiano, ma devo imparare di piu
We think we’ve entered a new area, of sorts. We’re trying to use Italian everywhere, and usually, folks will at least humor us and help us through, giving us pointers along the way. A few times, though, we’ve come across surly italiani (Italian men) in the touristy areas who speak some English, and just want to hurry us up and get us out of their shop. So today, Grouchy Gelato Man kept busting in the middle of our sentences with “Yes, half a cup!” and “No, one euro fifty!” And Irate Internet Café Man rolled his eyes and kept answering in broken English, muttering about how we’d save him time if we’d just speak our own language. At first, we’d sort of shrink back and switch to English, but now we’re being stubborn and sticking to Italian. It seems to make them even more surly, but it’s good practice and the only way we’ll learn. I wonder if they’ll start closing their shop gates when they see us coming. Or just spit in our gelato.
Non motoretta per Tomas! (No scooter for Thom!)
Thom is increasingly ogling scooters. Not just the belle skirt-wearing motorists riding them. Feel free to email Thom that a scooter is a bad idea. (I’ll bet you a million you’d agree if you saw the way folks drive them.) Grazie mille.
Italiano Bello
Thom has also come up with a new game he seems to think is amusing. He’ll see a hottie Italian guy walking up to our bar or driving by on a scooter, and he’ll go out of his way to point him out to me, just to bust me for looking (and smiling, or maybe trying not to drop my jaw on the table). I don’t think that’s a very fun or nice game. Who gave him this idea? Male gioco! (Bad game!) He’s not exactly spraining his neck from turning away too quickly from the ragazze belle, though…
Nothing else to report. Grazie, everybody, for the updates you guys have all been sending. We love to read them.
Tanti baci e buona sera,
Jen