Category Archives: Italian culture

The “Real” Italy

^ Of course, some people in Italy actually do sing opera for fun (and/or for a living).

To bring people to my site, I hang out in online forums about traveling and living in Italy, answering questions where I usefully can. It’s been an education for me as well, in American attitudes towards Italy.

One young woman bemoaned the fact that in her travels in Italy, and especially in Rome, she had not found the “real” Italy that she expected. Her vision of the real Italy apparently included (only) beautiful people beautifully dressed, spotless streets, and women who make pasta from scratch every day while singing along to Verdi and Puccini. She was sadly bewildered to find Rome full of immigrants (“Bulgarians and Chinamen,” as she phrased it), rude people, and young people kissing on park benches (she was of the opinion that this sort of behavior should be heavily fined – really, what planet was she from?).

Come to any country looking for a stereotype, and you’re bound to be disappointed, especially when your picture is based on the rose-colored memories of emigrant grandparents, or the more recent “live the good life in Italy” stereotype created by well-heeled foreigners who move to Tuscany, renovate a villa, and then write a book about it.

A recent post on Zoomata.com bewailed the removal of crucifixes from Italian classrooms (due to a court challenge by the Finnish mother of an Italian child); another on Fodors.com was upset over a bit of news reported in the US, that in Treviso a school’s nativity play was replaced with “Little Red Riding Hood.” Said the Fodor’s poster: “I love Italy. I thought I knew Italians, being American Italian myself.”

These two people, a Canadian and an American, both mourn Italy’s “becoming” secular rather than remaining Catholic. As second- or third-generation emigrants, they have skipped over several generations of Italian history, and apparently don’t realize that the separation of church and state in Italy was established in the Constitution (strongly modeled on the American one) in the early 1950s.

The Catholic Church still has influence in Italian life and politics, but that influence is waning (though not going down without a fight, I admit). The Church’s presence in daily life is nearly non-existent. Most Italians are still baptized etc. and would claim to be Catholic if you asked, but only about 10% (I’m guessing) are practicing Catholics.

There are still devout Catholics of course, but even they are puzzled by the attitudes of their non-practicing compatriots. One of my colleagues who is very active in his diocese told me: “These people show up wanting to marry in the church or baptize their kids. We’ve never seen them before and it means nothing to them, so we have to wonder why they bother.” If forced to think about it, these people might answer that it’s traditional, and/or that they want to please an older relative.

Italy still maintains many of the outward forms of Catholicism, but even those are being challenged, as in the above-mentioned cases of the classroom crucifixes and nativity play. Like most modern nations, Italy is wrestling with large-scale immigration and how to integrate new people, religions, and cultures into the existing culture and society. These are not easy issues, and the best answers differ even from community to community within a country. Some parts of Italy have found effective and interesting ways to bring their newly-multicultural communities together, others are still working on it. In most cases, the result will not look like the Italy that many Americans think they know.

Italians Flying the Flag

Italians are not much for patriotic displays. You rarely see Italy’s ‘Tricolore’ flag flying, except during World Cup soccer. During his first run for office ten years ago, Silvio Berlusconi brought to Italian politics the very American notion that ‘flag = patriotism = [my] political party’. Billboards for his Forza Italia party were swathed in red, white, and green. As owner of the popular AC Milan soccer team, he also managed to mix sport into his message: ‘Forza Italia’ (‘Let’s Go, Italy!’) sounds like a cheer for the Italian national team – no accident, of course.

As I recall it, that election coincided with a World Cup, or maybe it was a European championship. At any rate, between that and Berlusca, there were Tricolore flags everywhere. I asked my daughter, then three years old, if she knew what that flag meant. “Oh, yes,” she said brightly: “Those are the colors of Milan” – the football team!

photo: The Tricolore flying at the Vittorio Emmanuele monument in Rome.

What’s in a Title? Signora vs. Signorina in Italy

I’m 42 today and, waking up with blue circles and bags under my eyes, I look it. Well, that’s the result of two days on my feet in the kitchen, cooking for 35 people (yes, I did have lots of help – thank you, Shannon!) for our annual Thanksgiving/ birthday/ housewarming feast (the housewarming part is not meant to be annual). Most of the time, people say I look young for my age, and I don’t think it’s just idle flattery.

I’ve been trying to understand the logic by which Italians decide to call me signora (Mrs.) or signorina (Miss). When Ross was small and I was in daily contact with her teachers and other parents at her schools, I was accustomed to being signora, because everyone assumed that, as a mother, I must also be a Mrs.

This signora habit almost got me arrested once. I was getting off the bus in Milan, in a hurry to pick up Ross from daycare, and swept right past the squad of public transport inspectors doing one of their random checks. I completely ignored the calls behind me of “Signorina! Signorina!,” assuming they couldn’t be directed at me. So the inspectors thought I was running away to dodge a fine for travelling without a ticket (actually, I am always scrupulous about bus and train tickets, except when I forget to stamp them).

I’m often called signorina even now. This may be because I often dress informally, by Italian standards, in jeans and sweaters. In a business suit and heels, I’m almost always signora. On some occasions, the choice of address seems to be based on the speaker’s desire to flatter me, and which term they think will accomplish that.

The Plant of Happiness

During one of my several visits to our new home before we moved, the previous owner offered to leave us some things that wouldn’t fit into her new apartment, including a two-meter tall Yucca plant. I didn’t really care for its looks, but what the heck – it was certainly thriving. When it actually came time to move, she told me that this plant had been taken away by her (soon-to-be-ex) husband as it actually belonged to his mother, but she had a smaller version that she would leave me instead. The smaller one, only about three feet tall, was sitting in the front yard in a pot. I noticed that the neighbors also had one, planted in their yard.

Then we found out that these neighbors, too, are separating and on the road to divorce. “La chiamano la pianta della felicita’, ma dicono che porta sfiga,” remarked Enrico. [“It’s called the plant of happiness, but they say it brings bad luck.”] Given the plant’s track record – 50% of the couples in this small complex divorcing! – we decided not to take any chances. I thought a ritual dismemberment or burning of the plant would be appropriate, but Enrico felt that would be going too far. So one day he took the plant out in the car and left it in front of someone’s house in a nearby town (thereby leaving the bad luck with them, we assume!).

The following week, two friends of ours died in completely unrelated incidents in different parts of Italy (one in a car accident, one of aneurysm). We concluded that we had either got rid of the plant just in time, or had not got rid of it fast enough. I still think we should have burned it.

Dec, 2004

Mike Richter says: “The yucca has an attribute you overlooked. Those ummm ‘startling’ spines are the ‘cactus needles’ some used to play 78s back in ancient times. I had a three-meter yucca beside my front porch (until it threatened to replace the porch) and still have some of its needles in my Grafonola. I hasten to add that they are not used in place of steel or plastic ones; they tend to leave resin behind in the groove.”