Italian Quirks, Observations, and Miscellaneous Thoughts
Coffee, er espresso-related beverages, are of extreme importance here. Duh! Skim-milk you say – not going to happen. Soy? Don’t try that one either. If you can’t handle the latte, just go with espresso straight up and hope to God you can find a pizza without cheese. A note to the Americans, an Italian “caffe latte” is the equivalent of café au lait or coffee with milk – not the latte that Starbucks and Coffee Bean have brainwashed us into loving something that was invented by Americans and not Italian at all.
I’ll have to admit that after stepping foot in the wrong cafes where one drink sets you back more than the cost of the cappuccino because you also pay for the temporary loan on real estate, McDonald’s sure has a good thing going. In Italy, they have a McCafé because a) Italians don’t eat breakfast and b) Italians love espresso and brioche (croissants). How market-saavy McDonald’s is to have a café on the side of their restaurants where they sell pastries and espresso drinks. I’m impressed, and even more so with the actual cappuccino. It was damn good as far as I can tell, and I have never seen anyone put so much effort into the decoration on the foam (drizzled chocolate hearts). You can’t get that at Starbucks!
I am mostly lactose-intolerant. What does that mean in Italy? Well, it means that I throw my indigestion out the window, hope the public can deal with occasional flatulence, and eat as much four-cheese gnocchi, buffalo mozzarella, margherita pizza, and wet cappuccinos that I can possibly stomach. Fortunately I have supplements from India which aid in digestion, because I am certain I need it. I couldn’t handle the dairy in India – something about the processing, but I seem to be doing okay in Italy thus far. While I can’t say I have drank my weight in red wine (we have a very bad night in Florence to thank for that), I have eaten my weight in cheese and tomatoes. When I leave Italy, I will also be leaving cheese behind as this was my gluttonous way of praising formaggio one last time before I go back to being non-dairy.
After months of avoiding cigarettes, Italy is the place for smokers. On every corner, someone is smoking. It fills the bars, the piazzas, the cafes, everywhere. It makes wearing one outfit over again near impossible because they don’t sell Febreeze outside of the U.S. I shudder to wonder what Turkey is like with regards to smoking and cigarettes.
Shoes. I have never really been a shoe enthusiast simply because I buy what moves me, and it’s seldom that anything does. Here in Italy I feel rejuvenated. I could leave the shops broke with stacks of boxes waiting to be squeezed into my duffel back home. I have been eyeing the same pair of low heels for the past four days, and tomorrow if they have my size, God willing, I am getting them. Granted they are not the 99 Euro pair I keep drooling over whenever I pass this chain of shops (fortunately for me, I can’t recall the name); they are only 30 Euro, marked down of course from 75 Euro. I’d love to buy a pair of boots but nothing has spoken to me yet, so I will be patient or just let it ride. After all, I am the one who has to carry this. I already have plans to buy packaged pastas, sauces, and honeys in Rome to take back with me. That should be fun enough as it is.
A Smart Car will be my next vehicle, if they ever pass emissions and crash testing in the U.S. I am in love with these little things…efficiency, easy to park in tight tight spaces. Almost as good as a bike. And don’t think I am not considering one of those as well. After all, there is the Great South American Motorcycle Tour – Fall 2007 to consider.
And you would be happy to know that there are as many homeless and beggars in Italy as there are in Los Angeles. Pigeons and graffiti too. And people asking me in Italian if I want to buy marijuana…because after all, I look the part of the person who wants to buy it. Looks like they are all a universal problem. Maybe Beverly Hills should consider that before giving the homeless a one-way taxi to Downtown LA; even Firenze has a homeless population. And I have probably donated more in Italy than I ever have in Los Angeles, simply because here the people who lie prostrate on the sidewalk really are hungry and appreciate the apple I have been placing on their cups. If I had a dollar for every dirty look from a homeless guy in LA when I offered up food over money, I’d be a rich woman. In Trieste, I felt compelled to tell the old man I pushed in a wheelchair for twenty minutes that I was American, and not Italian since that was what he went on rambling as if I knew a word other than grazie!
Too bad all of these little good deeds go unnoticed in the grand scheme of things as far as what Americans are capable of; I really have been going out of my way to try and redefine the general populous’ opinion about Americans that Bush has tarnished out here. Granted I have yet to have someone frown upon me because of my country (which includes travels in Thailand, India, England and Italy thus far), I really feel the hate out here. In India, it was written in Editorial columns in the local newspapers (I think “…chop Bush up into…pieces” leaves no doubt as to one Indian’s take on our President) and demonstrated through burning effigies. In London, the team of Blair/Bush is the topic de rigueur. In Italy, ‘Hate’ with Bush’s image is graffiti’d on public walls and discussed during protests of NATOs proposed expansion near Venezia. What’s affected me most is the Almighty American Dollar which has continued to flounder so badly we lose 35% on the Euro and the British Pound is 2:1. Even Thailand with a political coup that ousted their Prime Minister was able to take an advance on the dollar by a couple Baht. Absolutely ridiculous. And now, a 45-year old guy I know, well beyond his fighting prime, has been shipped out to Iraq since the great idea to expand American forces abroad has been employed.
Hmmph. For ‘Bumpy’ and Taline (though I doubt they actually read my website), I will stop my anti-Bush tirade…almost. While I will continue to reinforce that I am eternally thankful for the American troops’ efforts, I am not thankful by any means for Bush or his one-sided, self-serving hunt for oil while (most importantly) sacrificing the lives of our soldiers and our economy. Read up on the opinion of a Santa Monica local on the Bush v. Islam war. I found his perspective intriguing, especially for someone like myself who could have given a rat’s ass about politics before I had to start defending myself on a platform I am not equipped to stand on. And I just wanted to say I love John Stewart.
Clinton-Obama, anyone?
cristi.farrell