Category Archives: Italian culture

Italian Brats

A survey cited by Zoomata says “a recent poll of 2,500 travel-industry professionals voted Italian kids the most obnoxious and unruly in the EU. … according to UNICEF, only 50% of parents [in Italy] reprimand their kids.”

I’d have to agree that many Italian parents are over-indulgent with their kids, and many young Italian children noticeably lack discipline and common courtesy. At my daughter’s riding school, I waged a never-ending battle to keep other people’s kids from running amok and scaring the horses during lessons. (Horses scare easily, and when they do, their riders often fall.)

This led to some surprising run-ins with small children. One three-year-old not only would not stop making noise, but gave me lip when I asked him to:

Me: “Stop that. You’ll scare the horses and someone could fall.”

Him: “I don’t care.”

Me: “Someone could get hurt!”

Him: “I don’t care. Anyway, it doesn’t hurt to fall.”

Me: “Oh, yes, it does. Want me to show you?”

Another child, when I asked him to be quieter, said “No.”

I asked: “Where’s your mother?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

So I tucked him under my arm and carried him off to find her, to general astonishment. At least I resisted the very strong urge to spank him!

The teacher in my daughter’s elementary school put up with far worse. One boy called her a whore. She pretended not to hear, which surprised me. I’ve attended many schools, and in every one of them, that would have got the kid sent to the principal’s office, or suspended.

Generation Gap: Italy’s Ageing Population

One aspect of Milan I’m really tired of is that it seems so old. Europe’s population in general is ageing, but the average in Milan seems to be even older, though I don’t know why that should be. Surely they could find some cheaper and more congenial place to retire. New Yorkers retire to Florida to get away from cold winters, icy sidewalks, and a fast-paced life that has no time for people who move slowly. Why don’t the Milanese?

Whatever the reason, there are a lot of old people in Milan. Nothing inherently wrong with that; some of my favorite people are a lot older than I am, and I count them as friends. But life in Milan must be harsh for the old, because most of them seem to be in eternally bad moods, always looking for something to complain about. This is so widespread that we notice any old person who actually looks happy. A few days ago, in the subway, Rossella and I saw an old couple smiling and laughing together. It was so unusual that it made our day.

Milan’s oldies seem especially to seek occasions to complain about the younger generations. A friend witnessed this scene:

An old man got onto a crowded bus. He planted himself in front of a young man wearing a workman’s coverall, who sprawled, exhausted, in a seat. The old man glared at him for some minutes, until a young woman nearby nervously offered him her seat.

“No,” said the old man, “I’m waiting for this jerk to get up and do the right thing.”

The younger man raised his eyes and said, “I just finished working for fourteen hours. You’re retired and haven’t done a damn thing all day. I’m not moving.”

Making Friends in Italy

This question came up recently on one of the expats-in-Italy boards I hang out on (it had coincidentally already been on my mind): How do you make friends with Italians?

Although most of the Italians I’ve met are warm and friendly and great fun to have dinner with, I’m not sure that I have any really close Italian friends. There are Italians with whom I can enjoy a long chat when the occasion happens to arise, but no one I’d call up and pour out my heart to when I need an understanding ear. I do have friends like that, both in Italy and elsewhere, they just don’t happen to be Italians.

I’ve observed, over the years I’ve been here, that most Italians don’t make friends as easily as many Americans do. I think it’s a matter of practice. Many Americans move around a great deal (most within America, some outside), and have repeatedly faced the need to make new friends. When you move a lot, you learn to get to know people quickly.

Most Italians stay all their lives in the city of their birth (if they possibly can); some never even move out of their original neighborhood, though they may commute across town for work. Some commute between cities, working somewhere during the week and returning home on weekends. Some are forced to migrate for work, but still maintain strong ties with their paese, a word meaning both “town” and “nation” – which reflects Italy’s long history as a collection of separate city-states.

Hometown ties extend even to strangers. When we first moved to Italy, our car (donated by my husband’s parents) had a license plate from Teramo, a town in Abruzzo. We drove it to Milan for our first reconnaissance visit. Late at night, at a toll booth just outside the city, a man in a car beside us shouted excitedly: “Are you from Teramo? That’s where I’m from, but I live here. I’m in the Guardia di Finanza. If you ever need any help, just look me up!” (The Guardia di Finanza are the financial police, who investigate accounting frauds, tax evasion, etc. – I hope never to need him!)

Kids usually stay in the same school for the complete cycle at each level: five years of elementary school, three of middle school, and five of high school. As far as I can tell, Italians form their enduring friendships during their school years, and, even if they grow up to be very different from those friends in lifestyle, experiences, careers, etc., they don’t feel a strong need for new friendships in later life.

I just ran across an article in the International Herald Tribune which suggests that this is also true in other European cultures: “the therapist stated categorically that people just did not make friends any longer in middle age. That advice, suggested Draguns, reflects cultural traditions in Germany and the Netherlands, where people tend to limit their friends to those they made in school and to keep the same friends through old age…”

I’ll be curious to hear from my European readers about this, to agree or refute or expand. I wonder: do Europeans feel that American-style friendships are shallow, because they happen so quickly? Some undoubtedly are, but not all. Some of my closest friendships have been formed very quickly, often with other third-culture kids who feel the same need I do to find the right people and make friends quickly.

See also: Rebecca’s view

Update: A few years later I began meeting and hanging out with il popolo della rete – Italians who are active online – and then began to find like-minded Italians to be friends with.

What’s your experience of making friends in Italy?

In Italy, Dyed Hair More Common than Natural

(for women)

I read somewhere that an astonishing proportion of Italian women dye their hair – was it 60% ? Wouldn’t surprise me. Look around you on the Milan metro any crowded morning, and it’s hard to find a woman who doesn’t dye her hair. There are plenty of blondes, few of them natural. A woman’s hair color is strictly her own choice and I have nothing to say against it, but I am perplexed as to how to handle the obviously old ladies who dye their hair blonde, red, etc. I’m not sure whether they simply like their hair that improbable color, or are trying to look younger than they are. Should I offer them a seat, or would they consider that an insult?

I saw an old lady on the street once whose hair was dyed blue. Not little-old-lady style blue-rinsed silver, but bright royal blue. I liked her instantly. I’m also fond of the ones who just leave their hair alone; they look a lot better than the dyed ones. I resist the impulse to congratulate them on their good taste.

“One theory on hair dye / hair styles is that older women want to hang on to the hair that they had when they felt their most attractive. Hence in the UK you will see a fair number of 50’s hair do’s on elderly ladies now…

The argument (which I subscribe to) about blonde is that as you get older your skin tone changes and blonde is more flattering to it! Though you should never go blonder than the colour you might have been as a toddler/small child.

I plan on making my hairdresser a major beneficiary of my disposable income until my hair is white enough to go really white – my Grandmother had lovely white hair which she wore in a chignon until her death at the age of 97!!!” – Judith

Teenagers and Cellphones – Standard Equipment for Italian Adolescents

David Pogue, technology writer for the New York Times, mentioned in his weekly column (some time ago) some ways in which Europe is technologically ahead of the US. We’re certainly far ahead in the use of SMS (short message service), by which you can use your cellphone to send text messages to someone else’s cellphone. I read elsewhere that SMS recently became available in the US, but not many people are using it. The problem, I believe, is that US cellphone companies have not yet captured the attention of the teenage market.

Italy has one of the world’s highest ratios of cellphones to people. They spread years ago from well-heeled to ordinary folk, with the introduction of pay-as-you-go plans: you buy a phone and “recharge” it with calling time whenever you need or can afford to, with no credit check or monthly fee. This has been a boon to people who cannot qualify for or afford a land-line phone, and to parents of teenagers: give the kid a set phone allowance each month, and when it runs out, they either do without or pay their own way.

Still, the cost per minute of talk is fairly high, and varies wildly depending on whether you’re calling a phone in the same network, a different network, or a land-line. SMS cost only 10 to 12 cents per message, and are less intrusive than calls; the default signal for an incoming message is a single beep. Or you can set your phone to silent mode, and keep an unobtrusive eye on it. Some kids get away with using SMS to pass notes in class.

A familiar cliché about teenagers is that, as soon as they come home from school, they are on the phone for hours, much to the frustration of anyone else in the family who needs to use it. But the cliché no longer matches the reality. In the US, kids come home from school and immediately get online with their computers, to text chat with the friends they just saw at school. In Italy, they come home and start tapping out SMS. With SMS, you’re more likely to reach everyone you want to talk to, as there are far more cellphones than computers with Internet connections in Italy. Plus, with a cellphone you can reach your friends no matter where you or they are – neither party is tied to a desk.

Being able to communicate textually instead of orally is great for adolescent boys, who tend to be tongue-tied in comparison with – and especially when speaking to! – their female peers. The same boy who blushes and stammers when confronted with a real live girl, sends wildly romantic SMS. At the beginning of the school year, my daughter was baffled by a boy who would spend hours in SMS conversation, but was too shy to speak with her in person. Later she was courted by a boy who doesn’t yet own a cellphone, which she considered an advantage as he was forced to actually speak to her.

Like many adults, I initially didn’t use SMS much, but am finding it increasingly useful. If I need to communicate a change of plans to my daughter while she’s in school, I can send a message. She’s got the phone set to “Silent” so it won’t disrupt classes, but I know she checks it during breaks.

School rules have evolved rapidly to cope with changing mores. At first many schools banned cellphones altogether. Some have or had rules that they must be turned off completely during school hours – rules which were routinely flouted, as so many rules are in Italy. I guess that by now most schools have given up.

There are downsides to being constantly in touch. I’ve seen my daughter (and others) sit in a roomful of friends, tapping away on her phone. I don’t get that: why not enjoy the friends you’re with, and catch up with the others later? Adults aren’t much better; during breaks in business meetings, everyones dive for their phones, missing that potentially very valuable informal time with their colleagues.