Italian mothers are famous world wide for raising mammone, mummy's boys (and mummy's girls too.) I come from a country where moving out of home is practically compulsory when you hit your late teens or twenties, people want to be free from their parents, but over here, predominantly in Italian small towns the opposite is true. Children stay at home as long as they possibly can and even when they marry many don't go far, often they move to the apartment above or next door. That's if they get around to marriage. Most Italians have extremely long relationships, 10 years is nothing, 15 yeah getting close to marriage and 20, well normally the bride has been harassing the groom for the past 19 years so about this time he normally gives in and they get married.
Once they get married babies don't come right away. Oh no, we must remember that although the couple has spent decades as girlfriend-boyfriend they have never actually lived together, so although they are not spring chickens anymore they want to enjoy what most of us enjoyed in our younger years....living with your partner, walking around the house in your undies, having a shower with the door open, leaving dirty dishes on the sink. I know one such couple who married after almost 2 decades together and the bride, wanting to give me marriage advice even though I had been living with bel marito for quite some time, told me the best thing about married life was that she could stay in bed as long as she wanted to!
Mammone start in the womb. Once your pregnancy is confirmed many women go into maternity leave and the majority of the time they never re-enter the work force. They hide away inside their houses whilst pregnant, best be safe from that damned wind that could cause who knows what damage. If they do venture out then they must always be escorted, normally by their mothers. When I was 8 months pregnant I drove, alone, about 1 hour north of Malito. Bel marito was working, I had an errand to run so why not go. We didn't tell anyone until I came home as we knew the hospital would be overrun with heart attack cases had the word spread that I had driven so far alone.
As the children grow the get fussed over more and more. Their mothers just don't let go, they can't, chasing after their children is an obsession. Whilst walking the other day we saw a lady driving her car very slowly and in front was her son, about 10 years old or so, riding his bike. I joking told bel marito that she was following him so he didn't fall, so bel marito yelled out something funny and it turns out that she was following him so he didn't fall. She said that if she left him alone he would ride the bike without hands and fall onto the road, so to stop this hypothesis becoming a reality she only let him ride his bike if she followed behind, not on foot or with a bike of her own, but with her car. Crazy! The boy had no helmet on so of course if he fell he would hurt himself. By a helmet, let him fall, and then he'll learn his lesson!
Showing posts with label stories from the south. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories from the south. Show all posts
Saturday, 6 August 2011
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
12 days of Christmas - Malito style
Last Tuesday it was 24 degrees...today it is snowing in Malito. There was even a little snow in Cosenza which is most odd.
Christmas time is full of superstition and tradition, especially here in the south of Italy. I used to think that 'the 12 days of Christmas' was just a song, but bel fidanzato told me that people here say the 12 days of Christmas are a forecast of the weather for the following year. The 13th of December (yesterday) is representative of January, today - February, tomorrow March and so forth. Today snow came to Calabria and driving home at 4.30pm it was already -1 degree, so according to superstition February will be a cold month with a little bit of snow. Apparently last year the 24th of December was quite warm and sunny here in Calabria and that goes to prove this superstition true, since last week we had 4 days or so of unusual, warm, sunny weather.
I am not sure if this weather prediction tradition comes from Malito, Calabria or other parts of Italy. I couldn't find any information on the internet about this, and I have never heard of it before so perhaps it is just a tradition of these parts? If you have heard of this before then please let me know. Here's to hoping that tomorrow or should I say March, brings us better weather.
Christmas time is full of superstition and tradition, especially here in the south of Italy. I used to think that 'the 12 days of Christmas' was just a song, but bel fidanzato told me that people here say the 12 days of Christmas are a forecast of the weather for the following year. The 13th of December (yesterday) is representative of January, today - February, tomorrow March and so forth. Today snow came to Calabria and driving home at 4.30pm it was already -1 degree, so according to superstition February will be a cold month with a little bit of snow. Apparently last year the 24th of December was quite warm and sunny here in Calabria and that goes to prove this superstition true, since last week we had 4 days or so of unusual, warm, sunny weather.
I am not sure if this weather prediction tradition comes from Malito, Calabria or other parts of Italy. I couldn't find any information on the internet about this, and I have never heard of it before so perhaps it is just a tradition of these parts? If you have heard of this before then please let me know. Here's to hoping that tomorrow or should I say March, brings us better weather.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Weddings - an expensive affair in Italy
Most couples let it be known if they want buste - envelopes (filled with money) or if they prefer gifts. Some people have gift registries like other countries, but I have never seen one for any of the weddings I have attended. The norm is to take a little, gift sized envelope with you and put some cash inside. Now, the amount of cash depends on the wealth of the givers and also their relationship with the married couple. The aim of the cash filled envelopes is that you are paying for your being at the wedding. You are paying for your meal technically, so the bride and groom don't get lumped with a massive bill at the end of the night. Normally you put a little extra in so they also end the night with some money left over for them and their new life together.
At the end of the rather massive meal you all go outside, normally by the swimming pool if there is one at the venue. There is always a lavish buffet of dessert set up and the big wedding cake. In Australia we cut the wedding cake half way through the meal, but in Italy they wait right till the end.
Once the dessert is underway, the bride and groom go and stand near a specially prepared table where they have the thank-you gifts set up, and a decorated box. This is the cue for the guests that they can begin to depart should they wish. Once you are ready to go home, you walk up to the couple, kiss them, thank them etc...and put your little envelope into the box which has a small slit in the top just for these. (I however hand make my little envelopes and cards and the other week it was too big to fit into the slit so the bride had to open the box to put it in!)I think I'll have to get onto making myself a box for our wedding envelopes one of these days.
Saturday, 24 April 2010
Should you obey the speed limit in Italy?
The funniest thing happened last night. We were headed out to dinner and bel fidanzato was driving. We were going to a small restaurant in one of the mountain top villages near Malito. The road leading up was dark, a little wet from a light shower, and windy. Bel fidanzato was driving up the road at a decent speed when a car behind started driving really close behind, obviously wanting us to drive faster, or wanting to over take us. I understand that some people can handle the roads better than others, but I don't understand why they don't just overtake rather than sitting on our tail.
Bel fidanzato cursed a little, as you do, and continued to drive at his normal pace. The car behind then started flashing it's lights - a rather rude sign that it wanted us to move off the road and let them over take. But as I said above - if you drive like a crazy person, on our tail, on a dark, windy mountain road then why the hell do you just not overtake... Ahh...because people may be impatient on Italian roads, but then don't like overtaking (naturally) when they cannot see in front of them, so rather they annoy the driver in front.
Bel fidanzato was getting a little miffed off (he is a patient man who hardly ever loses his temper.) Finally, finally this rude, flashing light, tail gating car over took us....they started honking their horn as they did it - another rude sign....and low and behold who was it impatiently overtaking us, as they sped up a dark, wet, mountainous road....well none other then the carabinieri!
So, it seems that maybe you should not obey the speed limit in Italy as it will just make the impatient police behind you angry!
Bel fidanzato cursed a little, as you do, and continued to drive at his normal pace. The car behind then started flashing it's lights - a rather rude sign that it wanted us to move off the road and let them over take. But as I said above - if you drive like a crazy person, on our tail, on a dark, windy mountain road then why the hell do you just not overtake... Ahh...because people may be impatient on Italian roads, but then don't like overtaking (naturally) when they cannot see in front of them, so rather they annoy the driver in front.
Bel fidanzato was getting a little miffed off (he is a patient man who hardly ever loses his temper.) Finally, finally this rude, flashing light, tail gating car over took us....they started honking their horn as they did it - another rude sign....and low and behold who was it impatiently overtaking us, as they sped up a dark, wet, mountainous road....well none other then the carabinieri!
Friday, 2 April 2010
La febbre
I have been unwell lately, struck down with the dreaded Italian febbre. It was my very first febbre - or fever as we say in English. La Febbre is taken very seriously in Italy. It seems that Italians are born with the ability to spot a fever, correctly measure ones temperature without a thermometer and they have many a local remedy to get you back on your feet. Listen carefully when you are out and about in Italy as you will always, ALWAYS hear someone talking about la febbre.
This fretful fever hit me when I least expected it. A few nights ago my right ear felt strange. I have sensitive inner ears and spring is in the air here. I was certain that I was coming down with an ear and throat infection - what with my sensitive sinuses mixed with hay fever, add some DIY (a.k.a dust everywhere)in the house, on top of the very hot, sunny day which saw me walking around town with (shock horror) just jeans and a t-shirt. Yep - I had my arms and chest bare! So, with all of these elements combined I woke up in a pool - a giant sea really - of sweat.
Bel fidanzato took my weak, fragile wrist as I lay in bed with a stabbing pain plunging in my ear and throat every time I swallowed. He whipped out the watch, was silent for one minute and gently giving me my wrist back, diagnosed me with la febbre. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, maybe you know - but I did not - a fast pulse rate is a sign of the fever. We never found out what my temperature was as we couldn't find a thermometer but that was neither here nor there.
You get special treatment when you have the fever! Everyone is worried about your well being. Bel fidanzato took such good care of me, even letting me have control of the remote control. His mother popped in to check on the dying daughter in law, and today - now that I am well enough to leave the house - I had many concerned Malitani asking me how I am.
If you are sick then Italy is definitely the place to be! I cannot wait to have a baby and be given special treatment for 9 whole months!
This fretful fever hit me when I least expected it. A few nights ago my right ear felt strange. I have sensitive inner ears and spring is in the air here. I was certain that I was coming down with an ear and throat infection - what with my sensitive sinuses mixed with hay fever, add some DIY (a.k.a dust everywhere)in the house, on top of the very hot, sunny day which saw me walking around town with (shock horror) just jeans and a t-shirt. Yep - I had my arms and chest bare! So, with all of these elements combined I woke up in a pool - a giant sea really - of sweat.
Bel fidanzato took my weak, fragile wrist as I lay in bed with a stabbing pain plunging in my ear and throat every time I swallowed. He whipped out the watch, was silent for one minute and gently giving me my wrist back, diagnosed me with la febbre. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, maybe you know - but I did not - a fast pulse rate is a sign of the fever. We never found out what my temperature was as we couldn't find a thermometer but that was neither here nor there.
You get special treatment when you have the fever! Everyone is worried about your well being. Bel fidanzato took such good care of me, even letting me have control of the remote control. His mother popped in to check on the dying daughter in law, and today - now that I am well enough to leave the house - I had many concerned Malitani asking me how I am.
If you are sick then Italy is definitely the place to be! I cannot wait to have a baby and be given special treatment for 9 whole months!
Sunday, 21 March 2010
San Giuseppe
Friday was the feast day of Saint Giuseppe (Saint Joseph), and in Italy it was also fathers day (since - if you are religious - Joseph/Giuseppe was the husband of Mary/Maria the mother of Jesus.) It was also the onomastico of bel fidanzato which means it was his name day/saints day...because my bel fidanzato is called Giuseppe.
Some Italians go all out for their onomastico, others not. Poor bel fidanzato had to remind me that it was his name day after dropping not so subtle hints all morning. We went to the local bar and bought some zeppole which are a donut like pastry filled with custard.
It is tradition to eat them on San Giuseppe. Bel fidanzato may be called Giuseppe, but he has no idea why Italians eat zeppole on San Giuseppe. The Internet claims that the tradition may have derived in Sicily as Saint Giuseppe is accredited with saving the island from a severe drought in the middle ages. Finally the much awaited rain came, and to celebrate the locals made lots of sweets, since Saint Giuseppe is the patron saint of pastry chefs! (I thought he was the saint of carpenters, but then again who says saints cannot have more then one 'use.')
So years on Italians - and particularly those in the south - make and eat zeppole. Bel fidanzato's mum was busy making them yesterday, the bar was selling them on Friday and I think everyone was out celebrating since Giuseppe is SUCH a common name in Italy.
Some Italians go all out for their onomastico, others not. Poor bel fidanzato had to remind me that it was his name day after dropping not so subtle hints all morning. We went to the local bar and bought some zeppole which are a donut like pastry filled with custard.
It is tradition to eat them on San Giuseppe. Bel fidanzato may be called Giuseppe, but he has no idea why Italians eat zeppole on San Giuseppe. The Internet claims that the tradition may have derived in Sicily as Saint Giuseppe is accredited with saving the island from a severe drought in the middle ages. Finally the much awaited rain came, and to celebrate the locals made lots of sweets, since Saint Giuseppe is the patron saint of pastry chefs! (I thought he was the saint of carpenters, but then again who says saints cannot have more then one 'use.')
So years on Italians - and particularly those in the south - make and eat zeppole. Bel fidanzato's mum was busy making them yesterday, the bar was selling them on Friday and I think everyone was out celebrating since Giuseppe is SUCH a common name in Italy.
Monday, 16 November 2009
Christ stopped at Eboli...but we didn't!
Have you read "Christ stopped at Eboli" by Carlo Levi? If you haven't I would highly recommend it. This book is an amazing biography of Levi - a northern Italian doctor, painter and writer who was forced to live in political exile in a small town in Lucania, which is now called Basilicata. He was sent there for his openly anti-fascist views and his biography tells of his experience living within this malaria ridden district and how in such a poor, desolate town he met some of the most amazingly strong and kind people.
Levi writes in his novel that it seems that Christ really did stop at Eboli (which is a town in the province of Salerno) because it was such a different Italy from the Italy he came from. Back in the day wealthy Italians did not travel much further south then Rome and most certainly very few would have had reason to enter the region of Basilicata. It was the land that time forgot. With limited access to health care, education - even clean running water, Levi was shocked and humbled by his experience here.
One town which is mentioned in his novel is the now rather famous Matera. Matera's fame on the tourist map has been steadily building since Mel Gibson's film, "The Passions of the Christ" which I have yet to see. This town is one of the most unique places you will ever see and rightly so it is now a UNESCO site.
When Levi visited Matera, the poorest of the towns people used to live in the sassi which are cave dwellings dating back to the prehistoric settlement. The sassi houses are literally dug into the rock and are not houses as such, but large (and not so large) caves which used to see both humans and animals living together in more often then not windowless holes. You can imagine the conditions which Levi would have seen! The town which is basically built entirely of rock was a cess pit of disease and in the 1950s (when the sassi were full of about 16,000 poverty stricken inhabitants) the Italian government had to forcefully relocate most of the population to areas of the developing modern city.
Bel ragazzo and I went to Matera in October and it was an overwhelming site. I had always wanted to visit Matera and was so excited that we finally had a chance to go. We went for work. (Well bel ragazzo did and I just tagged along.) We had to inspect a new 5 star de luxe "hotel" which is made up of some of the oldest sassi.
If you have never been to Matera then I would say you definately have to put it on your list of places to go. Look at more of our pictures below and see for yourself!
If you don't want to see a photo of bel ragazzo giving me a bacio then close your eyes now!!
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
My life in Sorrento
People always ask me: what do I do everyday? And what’s it like to really live in Italy? Both very good questions.
To answer these it really depends on: where I am living, what day it is, what month it is and most importantly what the temperature is like.
I currently live in Sorrento, Italy (for only another 10 weeks then I am out of here!) which is a strange place to live. Sorrento is not quite a city, but not quite a small town. It is a beach resort with no easy access to the beach...it's like I said - strange. Not necessarily in a bad sense, but in the sense that I would come back for a holiday, and I would recommend Sorrento to others for a holiday, but I myself would not choose to live here.
Where would I choose to live? I hear you ask. Well you'll just have to wait for that post to arrive!
I work for a large British tour company and my job role has changed slightly over the years since I have moved from Rome, to Sicily, back to Rome again before arriving here. I look after hotels here in Sorrento, Amalfi, Positano, Cilento and Ischia. This year especially my job is predominately phone based so I am on call 24/7 for my customers and hotels to call me with all their questions and queries. I recommend places to eat, sell excursions, handle complaints and basically everything to do with the customers. Each week the resort office (which is here in Sorrento) print me my new bookings which can range from 20-100 bookings per week. At the moment I have about 80 bookings here in Sorrento alone, so that is about 190 guests.
A large part of my job is liaising with the hotels to check the bookings, fax customers departure information and to help them out with guests’ queries and complaints.
Once every 2 weeks I go to the Naples airport, not really to meet and greet my guests as we don't have enough staff for that - but just to make sure my drivers are all there and that there are no problems.
Life here in Sorrento is quite normal really. It is not as romantic and quaint as some may think. Sorrento is a very touristy and a very busy resort so it can get on your nerves (well my nerves anyway.)For a smallish town Sorrento is full and I mean FULL of traffic. Driving here takes years of your life, as does walking here, plus there is no where to park. I nearly get run down by crazy moped drivers everyday!
Days off wise, what I do depends on who I am with. If bel ragazzo and I are off together then we either do lots of fun stuff...or nothing at all. Sorrento is so close to so many beautiful places, but the traffic and the actual getting from A to B is sooooo annoying that we have become hermits in the summer months. If you want to go to the beach, you cannot find anywhere to park. If you do find somewhere to park then you have to pay a fortune to leave your car under the watchful eye of some random, overly tanned and normally pot bellied man...a man who you are not sure actually works there. I have never figured out the random car parks around the area. I always assume that you sort of have to pay the man on the side of the road to 'watch' your car; as if you don't you'll probably not have a car to come back to!
If you do pay the random man, and do leave the car about an hours walk from the actual beach, then you have to fight your way to find a space on to the tiny centimetre of public beach...unless you want to pay an arm and leg on hiring a sun lounge. If you do not want to part with all of your money, then you just have to listen to the Napolitano families yell and scream by your sides.
If the beach is not your thing, and you want some cool, mountain air then you need to get into the car and leave Sorrento via the one road which is always grid locked with traffic. In most cases I can assure you, you will end up doing a dangerous u-turn and backtracking, since you get sick of sitting in the traffic knowing that you are no where near your 'cool, refreshing, mountain' retreat.
You often read books about people living in Italy and it paints this magical picture of peace and tranquillity. **Note to self: I must get organised and write my book list of good and bad 'moving to Italy' books that I had read as I have many to go in both of those sections.***
In many of these 'Italy' books, foreigners who have moved to some sort of town or city start to visit the local bar for their morning cappuccino...and by the end of the book they are best friends with all of the staff and get invited to their house for dinner - they have after all become part of this close knit family. Well...bel ragazzo and I do have our 'locals' but that is mainly because we get discounts there as it is expensive to drink and eat here. Most of the staff are only really nice to us since they know that we work with all of the tourists.
In these books, the foreigners who come to live in Italy are on first name basis after a mere 24 hours with all of the locals and batting off compliment left, right and centre. Ok, so I do get a daily 'ciao' from the sexy man who owns the scooter shop, but that is because he fancies my friend. Bel ragazzo does get asked the time by this old, orange haired woman everyday, but then we think she is crazy and asks everyone this.
So it seems I am not ticking off that many boxes. Oh, well I am batting off compliments left, right and centre, but when they come in the form of an ancient, missing toothed, unattractive driver, screeching "bona" at you whilst sweat is pouring down your back at the airport...I don't really take that as a compliment.
(Bona is more of a slang word meaning sexy but in a more vulgar way.)
So ladies and gents...that is what my life is like living and working in Sorrento.
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Getting married Italian Style
**This post has since been edited since I had a lovely comment from Malitano(that means a man from Malito) who told me that weddings are even more confusing then I thought. Giuseppe is his name (bel ragazzo knows him)and thanks to him my information is now more acurate. Grazie Giuseppe :)
Bel ragazzo and I popped down to Malito on Wednesday night so we could be there for the brothers promessa on Thursday. After 18 odd years together the brother is finally getting married...and what a big wedding it is going to be. Not only has it been building up for 18 years, but both the brother and his fidanzata are the eldest siblings so it is going to be one massive affair.
Let me explain to you a bit about Italian weddings. There are 3 aspects to a wedding: 1 is the promessa- promise - at the church. Since the brother is going to have a religious ceremony, we went to the church so they could sign some documents saying that they are single, Catholic and understand the conditions of marriage. The priest was talking forever and I kept floating in and out of the conversation as he was slipping into dilect quite often. I did snap to attention when I heard to word orgasm mentioned. Yes - the priest was telling us about all aspects of a marriage...
After that was the comune promessa, which is technically the registry office. A couple has to go to the comune and sign some documents then legally (on paper) they are married. **EDIT - this is not true. Giuseppe who commented told me that you still need to have the actual comune wedding, as well as the comune promessa** If you are Catholic however this piece of paper means nothing as in the eyes of God you are not married until you are married in the church. BUT if you don't intend to be married in a church, then this piece of paper means that you are now husband and wife. **Opps...another little wrong piece of information*** So bel ragazzo and I went down to Malito for the church promise and the comune promise.
I found it a little odd that although the brother and the fidanzata are now legally married, they still went and slept in their parental homes after the ceremony. In their eyes they are not married until August after the church wedding, and God forbid should they live together first!
I could write all day about Italian weddings and still have much more to say. This was my first promessa and it was much quicker then I had expected and the party afterwards with all the gift giving was much larger then I had expected.
In some parts of Italy, or at least Malito, there are many traditions to be followed. In this case bel ragazzo's mother bought the fidanzata's wedding dress. The fidanzata's mother has to buy the brothers shirt and tie for the wedding ceremony. Bel ragazzo's brother bought the fidanzata an engagement ring, and his parents bought her a beautiful necklace and earrings. The fidanzata's mother is in charge of furnishing aspects of the house, such as buying all the towels, kitchen goods etc.. Gosh! So much money is being spent...it is going to the biggest wedding I have ever been to and I have been to some big weddings before.
There are many more things that someone has to buy someone and someone else has to do this or that but I cannot remember it all! I was stressed enough after going suit shopping with the bel ragazzo and the brother. We got them all sorted with suits, vests, ties, shoes etc...(I never knew wedding suits were so expensive)and after seeing their elegant suits I suddenly was paranoid that my dress is far from appropriate! What with the promessa, the wedding in August, another family wedding in July I was so confused about what I can and cannot wear that I had to try on all my dresses and do a mock fashion parade in front of the family so we could decide which dress would be appropriate for what. God forbid that I wear an inappropriate dress and create brutta figura.
Bel ragazzo and I popped down to Malito on Wednesday night so we could be there for the brothers promessa on Thursday. After 18 odd years together the brother is finally getting married...and what a big wedding it is going to be. Not only has it been building up for 18 years, but both the brother and his fidanzata are the eldest siblings so it is going to be one massive affair.
Let me explain to you a bit about Italian weddings. There are 3 aspects to a wedding: 1 is the promessa- promise - at the church. Since the brother is going to have a religious ceremony, we went to the church so they could sign some documents saying that they are single, Catholic and understand the conditions of marriage. The priest was talking forever and I kept floating in and out of the conversation as he was slipping into dilect quite often. I did snap to attention when I heard to word orgasm mentioned. Yes - the priest was telling us about all aspects of a marriage...
After that was the comune promessa, which is technically the registry office. A couple has to go to the comune and sign some documents then legally (on paper) they are married. **EDIT - this is not true. Giuseppe who commented told me that you still need to have the actual comune wedding, as well as the comune promessa** If you are Catholic however this piece of paper means nothing as in the eyes of God you are not married until you are married in the church. BUT if you don't intend to be married in a church, then this piece of paper means that you are now husband and wife. **Opps...another little wrong piece of information*** So bel ragazzo and I went down to Malito for the church promise and the comune promise.
I found it a little odd that although the brother and the fidanzata are now legally married, they still went and slept in their parental homes after the ceremony. In their eyes they are not married until August after the church wedding, and God forbid should they live together first!
I could write all day about Italian weddings and still have much more to say. This was my first promessa and it was much quicker then I had expected and the party afterwards with all the gift giving was much larger then I had expected.
In some parts of Italy, or at least Malito, there are many traditions to be followed. In this case bel ragazzo's mother bought the fidanzata's wedding dress. The fidanzata's mother has to buy the brothers shirt and tie for the wedding ceremony. Bel ragazzo's brother bought the fidanzata an engagement ring, and his parents bought her a beautiful necklace and earrings. The fidanzata's mother is in charge of furnishing aspects of the house, such as buying all the towels, kitchen goods etc.. Gosh! So much money is being spent...it is going to the biggest wedding I have ever been to and I have been to some big weddings before.
There are many more things that someone has to buy someone and someone else has to do this or that but I cannot remember it all! I was stressed enough after going suit shopping with the bel ragazzo and the brother. We got them all sorted with suits, vests, ties, shoes etc...(I never knew wedding suits were so expensive)and after seeing their elegant suits I suddenly was paranoid that my dress is far from appropriate! What with the promessa, the wedding in August, another family wedding in July I was so confused about what I can and cannot wear that I had to try on all my dresses and do a mock fashion parade in front of the family so we could decide which dress would be appropriate for what. God forbid that I wear an inappropriate dress and create brutta figura.
Saturday, 30 May 2009
Love making the Neapolitan way
I am such a bad blogger of late and I have so much to blog about! Bel ragazzo and I have been in giro quite a bit. He goes for work, and I manage to tag along on my days off! We have been back to Cilento with there beautiful sandy beaches, spent a night in Puglia and saw the Trulli houses in Alberobello, and fingers crossed we may be going to Matera this week. I have so many lovely photos but am just lazy since the office computers *when I can actually find a free one to use* do not let me upload photos. Plus there are normally people spying over my shoulder and I do not want them seeing what I am doing!
So I have been a bad blogger of late, but with sort of good reasons.
One things I must blog about, and I have meaning to blog about is something I find so strange, something so odd I still cannot believe it happens.
Let me start from the beginning.
I had just arrived into Naples after attending a training course in Lake Garda. I was sitting by the window in a minibus with my colleagues and we were driving along the main coastal road nearing Sorrento. It was late, and dark. I saw many cars parked on the sides of the road. There were lots of them parked one behind the other but I paid them no attention as people always park where ever they want in Italy.
My colleagues told me that the cars were not empty. There owners had not gone to a night club or for a walk along the beach. No. If I looked closely, they told me I would not be able to see into the cars at all.
Why is that you ask?
Well, that is because the windows were covered with newspapers, sometimes clothes or anything that is to hand.
Why is that? you are surely still asking.
Well...as my colleagues told me it is because the occupants inside the car are having a bit of *quality time* together if you know what I mean.
I did not believe them at all. I mean...all the cars were parked on tha main road, one next to the other and everyone and anyone could see you parked there. It was disgusting, unromantic, sleazy...they must be joking with me.
Truth came to me in the form of one such parked car bouncing up and down. Oh. Ok. So the people inside were having quite an energetic bit of *quality* time.
I could not believe that this is what people have to do to get some time alone! How disgusting. How embarrassing as everyone knows what you are up to and who with. Imagine that you are going on a date with a person who has a Green VW Golf, Licence plate XXX... Well when I am driving by, maybe on my way back from dinner and I see that car I know then that the date is going better then expected!
To make matters worse the next day if you happen to drive along that road earlish then the empty streets are filled with dirty tissues, old newspapers and god knows what else.
So there you have it...Love making the Neapolitan way
So I have been a bad blogger of late, but with sort of good reasons.
One things I must blog about, and I have meaning to blog about is something I find so strange, something so odd I still cannot believe it happens.
Let me start from the beginning.
I had just arrived into Naples after attending a training course in Lake Garda. I was sitting by the window in a minibus with my colleagues and we were driving along the main coastal road nearing Sorrento. It was late, and dark. I saw many cars parked on the sides of the road. There were lots of them parked one behind the other but I paid them no attention as people always park where ever they want in Italy.
My colleagues told me that the cars were not empty. There owners had not gone to a night club or for a walk along the beach. No. If I looked closely, they told me I would not be able to see into the cars at all.
Why is that you ask?
Well, that is because the windows were covered with newspapers, sometimes clothes or anything that is to hand.
Why is that? you are surely still asking.
Well...as my colleagues told me it is because the occupants inside the car are having a bit of *quality time* together if you know what I mean.
I did not believe them at all. I mean...all the cars were parked on tha main road, one next to the other and everyone and anyone could see you parked there. It was disgusting, unromantic, sleazy...they must be joking with me.
Truth came to me in the form of one such parked car bouncing up and down. Oh. Ok. So the people inside were having quite an energetic bit of *quality* time.
I could not believe that this is what people have to do to get some time alone! How disgusting. How embarrassing as everyone knows what you are up to and who with. Imagine that you are going on a date with a person who has a Green VW Golf, Licence plate XXX... Well when I am driving by, maybe on my way back from dinner and I see that car I know then that the date is going better then expected!
To make matters worse the next day if you happen to drive along that road earlish then the empty streets are filled with dirty tissues, old newspapers and god knows what else.
So there you have it...Love making the Neapolitan way
Sunday, 19 April 2009
Learning to drive in Sorrento
Time is just flying by here in Sorrento and still I have found little time to blog...or even take any photos...or even see much of Sorrento for that matter! I have been busy driving up and down the Amalfi Coast numerous times...and let me say I am a fantastic driver!
I was working myself into a nervous wreck at the thought of driving 'on the other side of the road' up and down the Amalfi Coast. If you have seen the coast you know what I mean...and if you haven't well...think twisty, windy, narrow roads jutting out on the end of a cliff with nothing but the angry sea below you. To top it off the road is hardy wide enough for one car to pass through some parts, not to mention the huge buses that speed past, madly tooting their horns as they fly around the blind curves.
Adding to my anxiety about driving on the coast, was the fact that my rental car is like a tank...rather then the smart car that I requested (if you don't know what a smart car is, it's a tiny Lego like 2 seater car that are very popular over here in Europe where there is no where to park, and the roads are almost too narrow to drive down.) Before picking up my rental car the other week I asked specifically that it be small, the smallest car they have available and of course the rental company assured me it was. I went down to the agency: apprehension, nerves and excitement coursing through my veins as this was to be the first proper time that I would be driving in Italy. You can imagine my shock when I saw this big, black 5 door thing waiting for me. Ok, so it was a nice, sleek looking car but it was massive! I did kindly point this out to the agency that it was far from small, and have since been pestering them on a weekly basis to call me when a smaller car comes in.
But after being a nervous wreck, I jumped into the car and did the Amalfi drive...and it was actually fine! All that time spent worrying for nothing. So what if the first time I was driving so slow that a rather large line of cars was impatiently behind me, for it is almost impossible to over-take on the Amalfi Coast unless you want to die. And I did take a few of the corners a wee bit wide and maybe just missed the crazy buses by and inch...and I did nearly knock a few poor pedestrians down, but what on earth are they doing walking there! The second time, and then the third and fourth saw me just getting faster and better...so much so that yesterday I was even yelling insult at a slow rental car driving in front of me! "Get off the road you stupid tourists if you don't know how to drive!" Ahh...well everyone did tell me that the only way to drive here was to drive like an Italian!ave to
I was working myself into a nervous wreck at the thought of driving 'on the other side of the road' up and down the Amalfi Coast. If you have seen the coast you know what I mean...and if you haven't well...think twisty, windy, narrow roads jutting out on the end of a cliff with nothing but the angry sea below you. To top it off the road is hardy wide enough for one car to pass through some parts, not to mention the huge buses that speed past, madly tooting their horns as they fly around the blind curves.
Adding to my anxiety about driving on the coast, was the fact that my rental car is like a tank...rather then the smart car that I requested (if you don't know what a smart car is, it's a tiny Lego like 2 seater car that are very popular over here in Europe where there is no where to park, and the roads are almost too narrow to drive down.) Before picking up my rental car the other week I asked specifically that it be small, the smallest car they have available and of course the rental company assured me it was. I went down to the agency: apprehension, nerves and excitement coursing through my veins as this was to be the first proper time that I would be driving in Italy. You can imagine my shock when I saw this big, black 5 door thing waiting for me. Ok, so it was a nice, sleek looking car but it was massive! I did kindly point this out to the agency that it was far from small, and have since been pestering them on a weekly basis to call me when a smaller car comes in.
But after being a nervous wreck, I jumped into the car and did the Amalfi drive...and it was actually fine! All that time spent worrying for nothing. So what if the first time I was driving so slow that a rather large line of cars was impatiently behind me, for it is almost impossible to over-take on the Amalfi Coast unless you want to die. And I did take a few of the corners a wee bit wide and maybe just missed the crazy buses by and inch...and I did nearly knock a few poor pedestrians down, but what on earth are they doing walking there! The second time, and then the third and fourth saw me just getting faster and better...so much so that yesterday I was even yelling insult at a slow rental car driving in front of me! "Get off the road you stupid tourists if you don't know how to drive!" Ahh...well everyone did tell me that the only way to drive here was to drive like an Italian!ave to
Monday, 23 February 2009
Italian funeral traditions
My bisnonna - Great Grandmother - passed away a few days ago. She was 93 years old and was actually a great great grandmother to my nephew...there aren't many people who could say they are a great great grandmother!
For along time she has lived in a nursing home due to very poor health and in the end she could not even speak or think clearly so it is better this way.
My great uncle also died a few months ago while I was in Italy and my twin sister asked if the funeral procession would be driving past my great grandmothers home. I had no idea what my twin was talking about, and why she would ask such a bizarre question but she said when our great uncle died the funeral procession drove past his home. It is apparently tradition in some parts of Italy (and other countries) that you have to leave the front door or a window slightly open to allow the spirit of the dead person to leave should they still be inside their home.
Our great uncle (grand fathers brother) and our bisnonna (grand mothers mother) were both born in Puglia, Italy and once in Melbourne they all lived surrounded by Italians. My twin said that when the funeral procession passed his house all his friends were outside waving goodbye to him as the Hurst drove pass. This is a lovely tradition but in my great grandmothers case the procession will not drive pass her house as she has been in the nursing home for many years.
I was looking on the Internet for some information about this tradition and did not come across anything in particular as it seems there are so many different ways people arrange funerals. I myself have not attended a funeral since my great grandfather passed away many years ago, so perhaps it is befitting that the next funeral should have been for his wife.
Saturday, 8 November 2008
Calabria, the region that guide books ignore.
This time next week I'll be on the bus, heading down to Calabria! I hope the last week in Rome flies by since I'm a little bored to tell you the truth. How can I be bored in Rome - you ask. I know...I know...Rome is full of beautiful ancient monuments, and I am sure I have not seen even half of them but after two years here, enough's enough.
The main reason I am happy to leave Rome is that I cannot wait to experience a different side of Italy, the non-touristy Italy. I have travelled through most regions in Italy but have only ever lived in the tourist infested city of Rome and the postcard perfect but very touristy Taormina.
It is now time to try my hand at village life, at the bottom of the 'Italian boot.' And what better place to experience the real Italy then in Calabria?
Relatively untouched by the commercial world, compared with its brother and sister regions this part of Italy remains relatively unspoilt. Calabria is full of mountain towns scattered like confetti amongst the lush vegetation. Malito - bel ragazzo's village is one such hill top town nestled 700 odd metres above sea level in the northern Calabrese mountains not far from Cosenza. It is a small but beautiful town inhabited by 800 people.
Have you ever been to Calabria before? Do you know where Calabria is? It's ok, don't be embarressed if you've never heard of it, or don't know exactly where it is on the map. You are not alone. Most foreigners visiting Italy have never heard of Calabria before. Calabria is a region ignored by many, with guide books quoting it as an ugly place, best seen at night. The same guide books say Calabria is a land of danger and death, where the ‘ndrangheta’ incites fear in the hearts and minds of all who pass. You may have heard Calabria described as a backyards country, ripe with corruption and poverty, its only worth being the easy access to Sicily the island further south.
Not many people have mentioned that on a warm spring day the wind will gently fill the air with the sweet perfume of jasmine and pine. In autumn the mountain sides are transformed with an explosion of colour as the green leaves revolt into shades of red, bronze, yellow and gold. Summer time sees the temperature sore, the ground dry and the feverish ambiance of the festive season is unleashed. And in the winter time the mountain towns are delicately dusted with a sprinkling of fresh, clear snow, while Calabria's own ski resort opens for business. It is rarely noted in guide books that at no point Calabria is more then 50 kilometres from the emerald green seas, and that the region has what is to be considered one of the finest Italian coastlines. No one has mentioned that Calabria has many towns almost perfectly preserved from medieval times, rich in history and culture.
It is true that you may not always find menus in foreign tongues but please do not misinterpret that you are not welcome! On the contrary, Calabria opens its heart and its arms to visitors. Every pietrino has a story, every piazza a song, every paese a legend. Go on, come and see for yourself....next time you are in Italy don't listen to the guide books, but listen to the people who live there and come and discover it yourself.
The main reason I am happy to leave Rome is that I cannot wait to experience a different side of Italy, the non-touristy Italy. I have travelled through most regions in Italy but have only ever lived in the tourist infested city of Rome and the postcard perfect but very touristy Taormina.
It is now time to try my hand at village life, at the bottom of the 'Italian boot.' And what better place to experience the real Italy then in Calabria?
Relatively untouched by the commercial world, compared with its brother and sister regions this part of Italy remains relatively unspoilt. Calabria is full of mountain towns scattered like confetti amongst the lush vegetation. Malito - bel ragazzo's village is one such hill top town nestled 700 odd metres above sea level in the northern Calabrese mountains not far from Cosenza. It is a small but beautiful town inhabited by 800 people.
Have you ever been to Calabria before? Do you know where Calabria is? It's ok, don't be embarressed if you've never heard of it, or don't know exactly where it is on the map. You are not alone. Most foreigners visiting Italy have never heard of Calabria before. Calabria is a region ignored by many, with guide books quoting it as an ugly place, best seen at night. The same guide books say Calabria is a land of danger and death, where the ‘ndrangheta’ incites fear in the hearts and minds of all who pass. You may have heard Calabria described as a backyards country, ripe with corruption and poverty, its only worth being the easy access to Sicily the island further south.
Not many people have mentioned that on a warm spring day the wind will gently fill the air with the sweet perfume of jasmine and pine. In autumn the mountain sides are transformed with an explosion of colour as the green leaves revolt into shades of red, bronze, yellow and gold. Summer time sees the temperature sore, the ground dry and the feverish ambiance of the festive season is unleashed. And in the winter time the mountain towns are delicately dusted with a sprinkling of fresh, clear snow, while Calabria's own ski resort opens for business. It is rarely noted in guide books that at no point Calabria is more then 50 kilometres from the emerald green seas, and that the region has what is to be considered one of the finest Italian coastlines. No one has mentioned that Calabria has many towns almost perfectly preserved from medieval times, rich in history and culture.
It is true that you may not always find menus in foreign tongues but please do not misinterpret that you are not welcome! On the contrary, Calabria opens its heart and its arms to visitors. Every pietrino has a story, every piazza a song, every paese a legend. Go on, come and see for yourself....next time you are in Italy don't listen to the guide books, but listen to the people who live there and come and discover it yourself.
Thursday, 21 August 2008
Under the Calabrian sun
Bel ragazzo are making plans to renovate one of his families houses in Calabria. Now don't worry - I'm not going to get all "Under the Tuscan Sun" on you!!! And for those family members reading this wondering why I have never told them the news, it is just that this is one of those projects that will take a long time as:
1)We don't have much money so it is more in dream stage at the moment.
2)We are not living in Malito or Calabria for that matter so I think it is hard to renovate from a distance.
So it will be a long time till we make this place a nice little holiday home, but there's nothing to stop us drawing up plans and dreaming right? Especially since we are over Rome, we like to dream of our 'place in the sun' that we can escape to every now and then.
I have my long term dream vision of a pool (well actually I want a cascading water fall if you really want to know), a house/shelter for Alberto who is the donkey I would like to have one day, there will be a nice area for out door dining with deep pink bougainvillea offering us shade, a large terrace with views over the valley, and some goats or sheep so they can eat all the thorns so we have less work to do looking after the place.
Bel ragazzo says that I need to stop dreaming such elaborate dreams as first things first: We need to speak to the comune about building a road so that one day the builders can drive up to the house! Apparently if you pay for the petrol someone will come and bulldoze a road. You can see from the photos that our little house does need a road and also some water and gas and electricity would be nice one of these days....opps! There I go again. Road. Let me think of just the road.
1)We don't have much money so it is more in dream stage at the moment.
2)We are not living in Malito or Calabria for that matter so I think it is hard to renovate from a distance.
So it will be a long time till we make this place a nice little holiday home, but there's nothing to stop us drawing up plans and dreaming right? Especially since we are over Rome, we like to dream of our 'place in the sun' that we can escape to every now and then.
I have my long term dream vision of a pool (well actually I want a cascading water fall if you really want to know), a house/shelter for Alberto who is the donkey I would like to have one day, there will be a nice area for out door dining with deep pink bougainvillea offering us shade, a large terrace with views over the valley, and some goats or sheep so they can eat all the thorns so we have less work to do looking after the place.
Bel ragazzo says that I need to stop dreaming such elaborate dreams as first things first: We need to speak to the comune about building a road so that one day the builders can drive up to the house! Apparently if you pay for the petrol someone will come and bulldoze a road. You can see from the photos that our little house does need a road and also some water and gas and electricity would be nice one of these days....opps! There I go again. Road. Let me think of just the road.
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Ferragosto Calabrese style
Bel Ragazzo and I are back in Rome with the brother and fidanzata in tow. We are back to lots of work (well I am since my lazy colleague decided to do nothing while I was gone...) We are back to the heat and we are back to the fact that we don't want to be here anymore. And to make it even worse we had such a lovely and relaxing time down south in Calabria we didn't want to come back!
On the 15th we celebrated Ferragosoto in true Malitano style as the folks of Malito head even further up the mountains to escape from the heat. Malito is already a little village perched freshly at 700 odd metres above sea level, but when the thermostat is reading 35 degrees it is hot even this high above sea level. So we all piled into the cars and drove another 200 metres up to have a picnic in the countryside.
It was coolish up there with a gentle breeze making sure we didn't faint, and the boys made sure there was enough cool water, beer and vino on hand to quench our thirst.
On the 16th bel ragazzo and I hit the road to head south east and venture into the territory of two fellow bloggers... Bel ragazzo thought I was mad when I said I wanted to venture to the Catanzaro lido to meet Cherrye of My Bella Vita and Michelle of Bleeding Espresso the day after Ferragosto. We anticipated traffic jams galore, but I was smugly pleased when there was next to no one on the roads, or at the beach and we got to the girls within an hour.
As Michelle mentioned on her blog we have no photos but that does not mean it was not a delight to meet them! We went to the beach (well Michelle opted to sit in the shade) and then we went for a rather comical lunch.
Let's just say, why bother to give us menus, let us ponder the menus for a good 15 minutes and then come to take our orders to tell us then that there is nothing available from the menu... We were all looking forward to a piazza when the waiter told us the piazza oven was closed. Ok. No problem (well I did think he was joking at first, but then realised he was serious.) At this stage the waiter did not bother to inform us that the kitchen too was closed. So off he went to leave us be with the menus while we ummd and ahhed. He even came over once to ask if we were ready and we asked for more time to decide!
Eventually another waiter came to take the order and I think it was bel ragazzo who ordered first - obviously off the menu. He rattled off his requested dish when the waiter interrupted and said that the kitchen was closed and that we could have a plate of pasta with eggplant and that was it. This dish was not even on the stupid menu! I asked the waiter why no one had bothered to tell us the kitchen was closed before, but he answered with a shrug of the shoulders and 'Boh.'
Eventually we all decided on the only dish that was available, we assured the waiter that Cherrye's eyes were natural (they are a lovely, bright blue) we told him that we were not tourists but that we lived in Italy and I agreed with him that when it is summer in Italy it is in fact winter in Australia.
And that was that. An funny lunch meeting two lovely ladies in Calabria, and what proved to be a great weekend down south.
On the 15th we celebrated Ferragosoto in true Malitano style as the folks of Malito head even further up the mountains to escape from the heat. Malito is already a little village perched freshly at 700 odd metres above sea level, but when the thermostat is reading 35 degrees it is hot even this high above sea level. So we all piled into the cars and drove another 200 metres up to have a picnic in the countryside.
It was coolish up there with a gentle breeze making sure we didn't faint, and the boys made sure there was enough cool water, beer and vino on hand to quench our thirst.
On the 16th bel ragazzo and I hit the road to head south east and venture into the territory of two fellow bloggers... Bel ragazzo thought I was mad when I said I wanted to venture to the Catanzaro lido to meet Cherrye of My Bella Vita and Michelle of Bleeding Espresso the day after Ferragosto. We anticipated traffic jams galore, but I was smugly pleased when there was next to no one on the roads, or at the beach and we got to the girls within an hour.
As Michelle mentioned on her blog we have no photos but that does not mean it was not a delight to meet them! We went to the beach (well Michelle opted to sit in the shade) and then we went for a rather comical lunch.
Let's just say, why bother to give us menus, let us ponder the menus for a good 15 minutes and then come to take our orders to tell us then that there is nothing available from the menu... We were all looking forward to a piazza when the waiter told us the piazza oven was closed. Ok. No problem (well I did think he was joking at first, but then realised he was serious.) At this stage the waiter did not bother to inform us that the kitchen too was closed. So off he went to leave us be with the menus while we ummd and ahhed. He even came over once to ask if we were ready and we asked for more time to decide!
Eventually another waiter came to take the order and I think it was bel ragazzo who ordered first - obviously off the menu. He rattled off his requested dish when the waiter interrupted and said that the kitchen was closed and that we could have a plate of pasta with eggplant and that was it. This dish was not even on the stupid menu! I asked the waiter why no one had bothered to tell us the kitchen was closed before, but he answered with a shrug of the shoulders and 'Boh.'
Eventually we all decided on the only dish that was available, we assured the waiter that Cherrye's eyes were natural (they are a lovely, bright blue) we told him that we were not tourists but that we lived in Italy and I agreed with him that when it is summer in Italy it is in fact winter in Australia.
And that was that. An funny lunch meeting two lovely ladies in Calabria, and what proved to be a great weekend down south.
Saturday, 10 May 2008
Italy - the land of riches..I think not
I mentioned the other day that I returned from Calabria with my suitcase full of food since it not only seems to be more fresh and tastier down there (as far as the parmigiano and apples I bought are concerned!) but the prices are considerably cheaper. Bel ragazzo is due back from his village tonight and I'm going to meet him at the Tiburtina bus station to help him carry more of our supplies home.
Perhaps you don't believe me. Perhaps you are thinking 'can the prices really be that different?'
Let me give you an example:
I love mozzarella, really love it and could eat it all day long! In the past years I have often bought the Santa Lucia 3 packs from the supermarket. Since re-arriving in Rome I have not bought it once, and for the life of me I could not recall why I could afford it last year in Sicily, but not this year in Rome. When shopping in Calabria I saw the 3 pack of mozzarella with the price printed in large font on the front "€2,29" - and that was when it hit me. The 3 packs they sell up here in Rome DO NOT have then €2,29 printed on them. In the supermarket near me it has €3,69 written on the shelf!
Now do you believe me? Such a considerable difference and this is just one small example. I bought a kilo of dried lentils for €0,99 down there, and up here they charge over €3...for dried lentils. The list goes on and on...and on.
Perhaps you think we get higher wages here? In some instances this is correct, but only IN SOME INSTANCES. With my job for example it makes no difference what part of Italy I live in - the wage is exactly the same. (And don't even get me started on how low the wages are here when compared to the cost of living, and when compared to other countries I have lived in.) I have never really noticed before, or perhaps I have been floating through my last 2 years in Italy and I have been living in lala land. Or perhaps it is just that I am starting to understand not only the language, but the way things are...
What do you think? Anyone living here or abroad who has some thoughts?
Perhaps you don't believe me. Perhaps you are thinking 'can the prices really be that different?'
Let me give you an example:
I love mozzarella, really love it and could eat it all day long! In the past years I have often bought the Santa Lucia 3 packs from the supermarket. Since re-arriving in Rome I have not bought it once, and for the life of me I could not recall why I could afford it last year in Sicily, but not this year in Rome. When shopping in Calabria I saw the 3 pack of mozzarella with the price printed in large font on the front "€2,29" - and that was when it hit me. The 3 packs they sell up here in Rome DO NOT have then €2,29 printed on them. In the supermarket near me it has €3,69 written on the shelf!
Now do you believe me? Such a considerable difference and this is just one small example. I bought a kilo of dried lentils for €0,99 down there, and up here they charge over €3...for dried lentils. The list goes on and on...and on.
Perhaps you think we get higher wages here? In some instances this is correct, but only IN SOME INSTANCES. With my job for example it makes no difference what part of Italy I live in - the wage is exactly the same. (And don't even get me started on how low the wages are here when compared to the cost of living, and when compared to other countries I have lived in.) I have never really noticed before, or perhaps I have been floating through my last 2 years in Italy and I have been living in lala land. Or perhaps it is just that I am starting to understand not only the language, but the way things are...
What do you think? Anyone living here or abroad who has some thoughts?
Friday, 2 May 2008
Busy times ahead
I seem to be quite busy at the moment! I am working through the Labour Day 'long weekend' and then on Monday the bel ragazzo and I are heading off to Malito so I can visit il Dottore and get some blood/urine tests done. I don't think it is anything serious, but my poor twin who is over in Australia has been a little under the weather so thought it best I get some tests done too.
While we are there bel ragazzo's mamma can prepare a food parcel (or small suitcase) for me to bring home full of lovely Calabrian goodies! Bel ragazzo will stay longer then me in Malito as he is off to London next Sunday to start his 10 day intensive training course for his new job!
I on the other hand will not be in Malito for long as have to come back to Rome as my parents will be arriving soon for a holiday. While bel ragazzo is in London, my parents will be arriving into Rome. This is the first time my dad has returned to Italy since he migrated 50 odd years ago. Most of his brothers and sisters have returned to the 'mother land' and seen their little village in Calabria, but my dad has never been back. I think it will be a shock for him. He had never been much outside of Calabria as a boy, never saw the likes of Rome for example and now has grown accustomed to living in Melbourne where everything is nice, easy, clean and big - big houses, big roads, big buildings...big! It will be interesting to see his thoughts in particular when he returns to his home village which is inhabited by 150 people and is literally nestled right up in the Calabrian mountains away from civilisation (ok, I am being a little dramatic...but it is a tiny town with not much close by.) He migrated years ago, just after the second world war with his entire family as they sailed to the other side of the world in hope of finding a better life...
I will find out all of his stories and share them with you on the blog so stay tuned.
While we are there bel ragazzo's mamma can prepare a food parcel (or small suitcase) for me to bring home full of lovely Calabrian goodies! Bel ragazzo will stay longer then me in Malito as he is off to London next Sunday to start his 10 day intensive training course for his new job!
I on the other hand will not be in Malito for long as have to come back to Rome as my parents will be arriving soon for a holiday. While bel ragazzo is in London, my parents will be arriving into Rome. This is the first time my dad has returned to Italy since he migrated 50 odd years ago. Most of his brothers and sisters have returned to the 'mother land' and seen their little village in Calabria, but my dad has never been back. I think it will be a shock for him. He had never been much outside of Calabria as a boy, never saw the likes of Rome for example and now has grown accustomed to living in Melbourne where everything is nice, easy, clean and big - big houses, big roads, big buildings...big! It will be interesting to see his thoughts in particular when he returns to his home village which is inhabited by 150 people and is literally nestled right up in the Calabrian mountains away from civilisation (ok, I am being a little dramatic...but it is a tiny town with not much close by.) He migrated years ago, just after the second world war with his entire family as they sailed to the other side of the world in hope of finding a better life...
I will find out all of his stories and share them with you on the blog so stay tuned.
Wednesday, 19 March 2008
Southern Italian Etiquette Part 2
Bread – a staple item that can be found in most, if not all foreign kitchens. From the rich to the poor, throughout history and in current days bread is prevalent in all our lives. Carrying on from yesterdays post (where you saw me create brutta figura) I never realised how important bread actually is for Italians.
We all know that the Italians are a superstitious bunch, in particular those from the south – and when it comes to bread – well..! there are a whole set of rules that I (the ignorant foreigner) was blind to. That is until now. Whilst creating brutta figura the other night, I asked bel ragazzo and my colleague to tell me of some more dos and don’ts so that I can be bella figura all the way.
My colleague told me a tale from when she was staying with friends in Napoli. She was at the families home and they had just finished a sumptuous feast. Being the polite guests (and a clean freak) she started to clear the table. There was a little scrap of bread, no bigger then a one euro coin on the table, and she picked it up, ready to throw it away with the other rubbish…when the mother leaped up from the table and gasped. “Che cosa stai facendo Lumbarda!” My colleague is from the north you see, and was not aware that in the south you NEVER throw away a piece of bread, and if you have to throw it away, and I mean if you have no other resort, then you have to kiss the piece of bread before it is goes in the bin.
Bread is sacred. Bread is the body of Christ. Bread was the last meal the Jesus ate before he left this earth. Respect for bread is also having respect for those less fortunate then you. You cannot just throw away a good piece (or scrap) of bread, as there are many people who would give a lot to have that scrap.
My colleague had come very close to making a brutta figura, but she was saved in the end and learnt the error of her way. Whilst she was telling the story, bel ragazzo was sitting there nodding saying ‘si, si.’
“I have never seen you kiss bread before!” I accused him.
“That is because I never throw bread away.” Bel ragazzo says matter of factly.
As mentioned above you only throw the bread away (after kissing it) as an absolute last resort. In these self sufficient villages you use the left over bread to make bruschetta, breadcrumbs, soups, salads and when the bread really is inedible you give it to the farm animals to eat. Thinking back, when I lived in the village at the start of the year, we never did throw any bread away.
The more well known Italian bread superstition is that you must never place bread upside down. This is bad luck and above all disrespectful! I find superstitions fascinating and did a little research on the web to find out the following bread related superstitions:
If you put a piece of bread in a baby's cradle, it will keep away disease.
Scandinavian traditions hold that if a boy and girl eat from the same loaf, they are bound to fall in love.
In Britain, the ceremony of First Footing is traditionally observed in the early hours of New Year's Day. A piece of bread is left outside a door, with a piece of coal and a silver coin, and is supposed to bring you food, warmth and riches in the year ahead.
In Russia, bread (and salt) are symbols of welcome.
Superstition says it is bad luck to cut an unbaked loaf.
Legend has it that whoever eats the last piece of bread has to kiss the cook.
(I kind of like that last one!)
Tuesday, 18 March 2008
Southern Italian Etiquette Part 1
Last night, whilst dining with the bel ragazzo and my colleague in Trastevere - the old Jewish ghetto in Rome - io ho fatto una brutta figura...I made a bad impression. (By accident of course as I am still a rather ignorant foreigner.)
We were enjoying a pizza and some house wine (very nice) when I noticed that bel ragazzo's glass was near empty. He was sitting on my right, and the bottle of wine was near me so I went to pour him a glass but rather then pour in the normal fashion (where as your hand is on top of the bottle) I poured him some wine backwards (I was feeling a little lazy and just tipped the bottle over so that my hand was on the under part and I just flicked my wrist a bit.)
Have you guessed what I did to make this brutta figura? I had no idea but when I started to pour the wine both bel ragazzo and the colleague gasped saying that I could not do that!
Do what? Could I not pour the wine? Should I have filled my colleagues glass first as she is a female? Should I have waited until all our glasses were actually empty?NO - none of the above. I had been very disrespectful by the way I poured the wine as my hand was below the bottle and not on the top.
Wine etiquette has many unspoken rules that become more strict the further south you go. My colleague is from the north (up near Milan) and she said it is considered bad manners to pour wine backwards in her village, however it does not have such a strong implication as in the south.
In the south if you pour wine backyards you are being openly (and knowingly) offensive. It is as though you are challenging that person, or trying to make a fool of them. For example if the table is full and I pour one persons wine correctly and then the other persons wine backwards, then the whole table knows what I think of this person who I have insulted by pouring his wine backwards.
Now I am a little paranoid thinking back to how many times I have created this brutta figura by pouring wine backwards... Not to worry as from now on it will be bella figura all the way!
We were enjoying a pizza and some house wine (very nice) when I noticed that bel ragazzo's glass was near empty. He was sitting on my right, and the bottle of wine was near me so I went to pour him a glass but rather then pour in the normal fashion (where as your hand is on top of the bottle) I poured him some wine backwards (I was feeling a little lazy and just tipped the bottle over so that my hand was on the under part and I just flicked my wrist a bit.)
Have you guessed what I did to make this brutta figura? I had no idea but when I started to pour the wine both bel ragazzo and the colleague gasped saying that I could not do that!
Do what? Could I not pour the wine? Should I have filled my colleagues glass first as she is a female? Should I have waited until all our glasses were actually empty?NO - none of the above. I had been very disrespectful by the way I poured the wine as my hand was below the bottle and not on the top.
Wine etiquette has many unspoken rules that become more strict the further south you go. My colleague is from the north (up near Milan) and she said it is considered bad manners to pour wine backwards in her village, however it does not have such a strong implication as in the south.
In the south if you pour wine backyards you are being openly (and knowingly) offensive. It is as though you are challenging that person, or trying to make a fool of them. For example if the table is full and I pour one persons wine correctly and then the other persons wine backwards, then the whole table knows what I think of this person who I have insulted by pouring his wine backwards.
Now I am a little paranoid thinking back to how many times I have created this brutta figura by pouring wine backwards... Not to worry as from now on it will be bella figura all the way!
Friday, 7 March 2008
A country that works on 'favours' Part 2
As I sit pondering what to write for my second instalment many thoughts cross my mind (and my Italian colleague's mind as she is my source of information tonight.)
We have been sitting here, discussing many aspects of the Italian life that work on this 'favour' system, however the examples I have and the things I have seen cannot really go into print. I am sure we all know a lot of people who do things off the record, who work in the 'black,' hold down full time jobs while getting paid a full pension, people who work for a few months only so they can apply for unemployment benefits, families who rent out their houses only if they can be paid cash, jobs that are never advertised but employees are always found, people who build ‘abusivo’ houses during the night…
The list is long and I cannot go into detail with any of the stories above. (If only I could as that would make great reading!) When in Rome hey? I need to turn a blind eye.
We have been sitting here, discussing many aspects of the Italian life that work on this 'favour' system, however the examples I have and the things I have seen cannot really go into print. I am sure we all know a lot of people who do things off the record, who work in the 'black,' hold down full time jobs while getting paid a full pension, people who work for a few months only so they can apply for unemployment benefits, families who rent out their houses only if they can be paid cash, jobs that are never advertised but employees are always found, people who build ‘abusivo’ houses during the night…
The list is long and I cannot go into detail with any of the stories above. (If only I could as that would make great reading!) When in Rome hey? I need to turn a blind eye.
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