Category Archives: Italy

Strikes and More Strikes

Italy’s 155,000 public medical employees are on strike today, led, with unusual unanimity, by all 42 of their unions. The major issue is that their contracts were due to be renewed two years ago (I suppose that implies cost-of-living increases, at least), and have not been, due to disagreements between the federal and regional governments over who should pay. The medics have also issued a multi-point protest document demanding the de-politicization of hospital appointments and more control by the medical personnel of their shifts and how their work is organized, which seem reasonable demands.

Alitalia is also on strike, protesting a restructuring plan for the struggling airline which would cut at least 1500 jobs. I don’t sympathize with this one. The entire airline industry is in trouble; why should we taxpayers pay to keep an ill-managed national airline afloat when better and/or cheaper flights are widely available? I fly low-cost airlines so I can go more places, more often, but I lose that advantage if I also have to pay more taxes to benefit Alitalia employees.

Dressing for Italy: Tips for Tourists

^ top: Ross & Enrico – dressed for a wedding, I admit

Foreign travelers to Italy sometimes ask how to to dress so as not to look out of place among the fashionable Italians. This question is hard to answer; much depends on your sex, age, and personal style.

It’s easiest to start with some fashion don’ts:

  • No track suits, sweat suits, or the like, and no baggy sweatshirts. Well, really, no baggy anything.
  • No fanny packs.
  • No daypacks or backpacks, unless you’re in your 20s or younger.
  • No clunky white sports shoes. Younger Italians do wear sports shoes, even when not doing sports, but these are usually sleek and stylish models (including some brands very familiar to Americans), and are never dirty or scuffed or worn down.
  • No t-shirts, especially not with big pictures or slogans on them, again, unless you’re under 30.
  • No shorts, especially not for men.

Now some do’s:

  • In general, Italians dress more formally than Americans. Blue jeans are fine, as long as they are well-fitting, clean, and in good condition (or any damage is intentional and fashionable) – Levis are very trendy and even expensive in Italy.
  • Men, always wear collared shirts (polos are okay).
  • Wear dark or subdued colors, except in summer. Even then, Italians wear white or pastels, not the bright purples and blues that many Americans like.
  • As a tourist you’ll be walking a lot, so I do recommend very comfortable shoes, even though this seems never to be a consideration for Italians, at least not for women, who routinely walk all over town with things on their feet that I couldn’t even stand up in.
  • Designer labels are always a plus.

Of course, how you dress is always entirely up to you, and no one is going to jeer at you even if you commit every single one of the fashion “sins” listed above. The question I’m responding to came from people who wanted to know how to fit in, and that’s what I’ve done my best to answer, with some expert advice from my Milan-raised, extremely stylish, teenage daughter. (I admit I cheated – in the photo above, my daughter and husband are dressed for a wedding!)

How I Got My (First) Job in Italy

I don’t claim to be a comprehensive resource on any aspect of living in Italy; my reasons for being here are different from some others’: I married into it, which made getting a visa (permesso di soggiorno) and permission to work relatively easy. And that was years ago, so what little I remember about the process is probably out of date. There are sites with expertise to offer about the law and other technicalities; you’ll find some listed here.

When I first arrived here, I had been a mostly stay-at-home mom (in New Haven) since Rossella’s birth, and I was ready to go back to work. I had very little experience in job hunting anywhere, let alone in Italy. One of my major saleable skills was desktop publishing, which in those days was still an arcane art that could be sold as a third-party service. The closest thing I could find in the Milan Yellow Pages was “editoria elettronica”. Neither Enrico nor I was sure what that meant, but I sent off a resumé and cover letter to each of the four or five companies listed. Deafening silence ensued.

I pounded the pavements, taking my resumé to computer firms that might need someone who knew how to put systems together and train people to use them. Showing up with a resumé at an office where no one knows you is not the done thing in Italy; people stared at me uncomprehendingly, and at one place they literally laughed in my face.

I didn’t know what else to do to find computer work. Contacts are all-important in Italy, and I had none in the high-tech field. I did get a few translation jobs, thanks to my father-in-law. This was also the period in which I accidentally became a computer journalist. I could have taught English, but the idea didn’t attract me, and I didn’t want to fall into teaching as a career when I had other skills that ought to be far more valuable.

In June (1991), Enrico had a chance to return to Yale for an academic visit, and Alitalia happened to be offering two-for-one tickets. I figured that, if I couldn’t find work, I might as well go on vacation. So we left Rossella with her grandparents and prepared to take off for a week. This was on a Sunday morning. We were putting luggage into the elevator when the phone rang. I answered it, and the conversation went more or less like this:

“My name is Caffarelli. I received your resumé a while ago. Could you write a software manual?”

“Uh, yes, I guess so.”

I had never actually written a manual, but I had designed and written course materials to train people in using desktop publishing software, and had worked with a friend on a manual he had written for a deep-ocean exploration and recovery apparatus. I didn’t think I’d make a fool of myself in the attempt, at any rate.

When I returned from the trip, I went to meet Fabrizio Caffarelli, who had founded a software company in Milan a few years before. The software in question was for optical character recognition, which I actually knew something about – I had beta-tested some scanners and software, back when a 100 dpi black-and-white scanner cost $10,000. So I wrote the manual, in English, and it was “simultaneously” translated into Italian by Fabrizio’s niece Cristina. We had a great time doing it.

At the end of the six weeks or so that the project took, Fabrizio said to me: “I like the way you work but, unfortunately, I don’t have any more work for you right now.” We parted on good terms, and I recommenced the job hunt (well, not until September — no one does anything in Italy in August). I wrote a few more articles for computer magazines, and began to wonder whether I could write a book about something computer-related, perhaps in Italian. I was casting about for a topic when Fabrizio called, sometime in November. “Would you like to write a book with me?” he asked.

So we wrote Publish Yourself on CD-ROM, published (in English) by Random House. It was one of the first books in the world to include a CD. We didn’t get paid much for writing it (and Fabrizio took the lion’s share of what little there was), but I made some extra money on the deal by desktop-publishing it myself, using FrameMaker software. I also used FrameMaker to create a hypertext version of the book to go on the disc, a skill which was to come in handy later on. The disc mainly contained a demo version of Easy CD 1.0; Fabrizio’s reason for writing a book was to publicize the software by showing how easy it could be to make your own CDs – if you had our software, of course.

By the time the book was published (January, 1993), I was working full-time for Fabrizio, writing software manuals and other materials, and doing just about anything else that came up. (The small-company environment suits me precisely because I get to wear a lot of different hats, and people aren’t so territorial about their jobs.)

Fabrizio moved the engineering team to California in late 1993, and, having conquered the 75% of the worldwide Windows market for CD recording software, sold the company to Adaptec in August, 1995. I was hired by Adaptec and had a very good run with them, and later with the Roxio spin-off, until I quit in 2001. Along the way I helped a few other people find work (hired some myself), in Italy and elsewhere. Most of the freelance work I’ve had since has come through friends: good karma pays off, I guess.

In sum, it’s hard to advise anybody on how to find work in Italy, except in these very general terms: be flexible and patient, meet a lot of people, and when opportunity knocks, be ready to leap on it.


Multitasking

Feb 4, 2004

I said, “I developed a new skill with Fabrizio: simultaneous translation and transcription. If he wanted something written in English, he would dictate it to me in Italian, and I would type it straight out in English. I’m not sure I could do simultaneous translation if I had to speak, but I can do it typing, as fast as he can talk.”

Mike L. responded: “According to recent studies, this is something that (almost) only women can do. The explanation behind this is that the female brain is better capable of handling multiple tasks simultaneously, such as translating and writing. The experiments were quite funny to watch. One person would read a series of words, while the test person was asked to repeat after him. Most of the females managed to speak just a single syllable (sometimes even less) behind, while most of the males had to wait longer. My explanation is that males are equally well capable of multitasking, but one task is constantly allocated to thinking about sex – sex – sex…

Learning Italian

When I first met Enrico, I spoke no Italian, and at some point early in the relationship I decided to learn it. I already had one language under my belt: I had studied Hindi in high school and college, and spoke it fluently. Italian is a lot easier. In terms of pronunciation, it’s one of the simplest languages on earth, having far fewer discrete sounds even than English (whereas Hindi has far more: I had had to learn to distinguish between four different T sounds and four different D sounds – aspirates and non-aspirates, dental and palatal).

Italian grammar is more complex than English, but far less complex than Hindi (not as many inflections). Italians are so delighted that you’re even trying that they will forgive a multitude of errors, which can be a handicap for a learner as they often won’t tell you when you make mistakes.

I took Italian classes at the US Department of Agriculture in Washington, DC. Taking a night class once or twice a week is not an efficient way to learn a language. I got to where I understood a lot, but couldn’t say much. That was cured in the winter of 1989, when Rossella was a baby. She and I stayed a month in Rome with my in-laws, while Enrico was hopping back and forth across the Atlantic, working on his PhD at Yale and searching for an academic job in Italy. My mother-in-law speaks no English (she does speak French), so I was forced to speak Italian. By the end of the month, Enrico’s friends were all commenting on the huge improvement in my Italian.

My spoken Italian took another leap in 1991, when I began working for Fabrizio. He conducted the interview entirely in Italian, and never mentioned that he spoke English. And he had no qualms about correcting my Italian. Some weeks after I started, I ran across a document in the office, written in near-perfect English. “Who wrote this?” I asked. “He did,” said the secretary. But, to this day, Fabrizio refuses to speak English with me. He claims that he can’t understand my accent, though he understands everyone else, American or British (or Chinese or Japanese), just fine. I don’t mind speaking only Italian with him, but it gets awkward when other non-Italian-speakers are around, as I then have to translate for their benefit.

I developed a new skill with Fabrizio: simultaneous translation and transcription. If he wanted something written in English, he would dictate it to me in Italian, and I would type it straight out in English. I’m not sure I could do simultaneous translation if I had to speak, but I can do it typing, as fast as he can talk.

All of my in-laws are university professors, so from them I learned excruciatingly correct Italian. My suoceri (mother- and father-in-law) never use strong language. At most, my suocero says things like “Perdiana!” or “Perbacco!” – “by Diana” or “By Bacchus” – I suppose it’s okay to take the name of the lord in vain, so long as it’s not a god you actually believe in. Or he says “Per tutti i dindiridin.” Don’t ask me what that means.

From Fabrizio, I learned a very different category of Italian. Not that it hasn’t been useful.

Religion in Italian Schools

An agreement was made in 1884 between the Italian Republic and the Vatican, modified by the Lateran Concorde of 1929, and ratified in a new law in 1985, which reads:

The Italian Republic, recognizing the value of religious culture, and keeping in mind that the principles of Catholicism are part of the historic patrimony of the Italian people, will continue to assure, among the broader goals of education, the teaching of the Catholic religion in all public schools below university level.

Respecting the freedom of conscience and educational responsibility of parents, everyone is guaranteed the right to choose whether or not to take advantage of such teaching.

When enrolling, students or their parents can exercise this right, upon request of the school authorities, and their choice may not give rise to any form of discrimination.

In accordance with the law, our daughter Rossella could have started religious education as early as pre-school. I was nervous about this, not wanting her to be catechized at such a young age, but also not wanting her to be the odd kid out. During the enrollment period, parents were invited to group meetings with the principal so that he could explain the school’s philosophy. To my surprise, one father’s biggest concern was to keep his child out of religious instruction – this man looked and sounded 100% Italian, but clearly was not very Catholic. The principal explained that, because he did not want any of his staff to teach religion, he had exercised his option to have a teacher provided by the local diocese. And, in accordance with the law, it was any parent’s right to opt out of this; a supervised alternate activity would be provided. That father and I were both much relieved.

A family friend faced a dilemma with her small child: she needed daycare, but the only place available near home was a private institution run by nuns. With some misgivings, she enrolled her son, and things went on well enough for several months. Until one day the boy came home and said to his mother: “Blessed art thou among women!” She withdrew him immediately.

Rossella’s lack of religious instruction was displayed to the public one day at a museum in Milan. After seeing many paintings of the crucifixion, she said loudly (in Italian): “What does this guy think he’s doing? A balancing act?” All heads snapped around to get a look at the pagan three-year-old.

In elementary school, Ross again did the alternativa, reading myths and legends from around the world and drawing illustrations for them. They also studied a simplified version of the UN’s Convention on the Rights of the Child. There were three or four other kids in alternativa with Ross (at least one of whom was Muslim), but most of the class were doing catechism in preparation for their confirmation (cresima – chrism) at age 9 or so. In some parts of Italian society, confirmation is a very big deal, with a fancy dress for the girls, a restaurant lunch hosted by the family, and presents – a sort of mini-wedding.

Although many prefer less fanfare and expense, most families do choose for their children to go through la cresima; it’s a tradition, though it seems to have lost most of its meaning. One little girl told me firmly: “I’m only going through this so that I can have a church wedding later on. After that, they’ll never see me again.”

The school Ross attended for 6th and 7th grade was very religious. Ross agreed that she should take religion class, to learn about this part of her Italian cultural heritage. The textbook was definitely Catholic, but no mere catechism, and the teaching was not heavy-handed. When she changed schools in 8th grade, she again took religion, and did well in the class, which even discussed some other religions.

In smaller towns, many kids who are not particularly religious or Catholic opt to participate in religion classes, simply because everyone else does – no kid wants to be the weirdo. One American friend’s son even asked if he could do the cresima, so as not to be the only kid in the class who didn’t (he hadn’t been baptized Catholic, so I’m not sure if that was possible).

In Lecco, Ross decided to take religion, like everyone else. It’s taught by a priest, Don Maurizio, but I like his attitude. The first day of class he told them: “I’m not here to convert anybody.” His main aim is to provoke the kids to think and talk about moral and ethical issues. Ross is thoughtful and articulate in his class, so he likes her, and is her champion with the other teachers (who seem to be having trouble understanding her).