Bah Humbug
Scrooge season has started here in Italy and though the streets are decorated with lights, the stores pushing pink and blue toys on parents, and the Christmas shopping anxiety season has started I feel a bit like Scrooge. I don't want to get in the "Holiday Season". I might feel like participating in the parts of Christmas here like eating crepes with nutella and enjoying the Christmas lights and my nativity set but I feel homesick. So while this blog usually focuses on the nice pretty parts of Italy like the view and food, there are also lows. Homesickness is one and snooty people here is another. It is the Brescia region and famous in Italy for being snooty. I have met some nice girls but overall, snoots. Ever seen "Mean Girls"? Yes, mostly all Regina Georges here of all ages from 9-90. Sorry nice girls. That is why my weekly trip one hour south to Cremona is nice, or one hour east to Verona, people change already! They smile, eat good stuff, say "excuse me" and don't analyze the quality of your shoes before deciding if you are worth talking to. Maybe it is because they are historically communist and not fascist. It is like comparing high fashion NYC girls to the girls competing to be the Country Fair Queen in Puyallup, Washington State. Those NYC girls wouldn't know how to milk a cow if their life depended on it. And if you asked a Puyallup girl where you could buy a pair of Louboutins she might happily point you in the direction of the closest super market and tell you to have a nice day. It's like comparing apples to oranges, my friends. With the "season to be merry" I feel a tug at my soul to go to what makes me merry: home. Here is my list of my homesick things and then I promise to stop, take pictures of something and appreciate the beauty the good lord made here in Brescia. But for now, my list, and I will limit myself to 10:
Things that I am homesick for:
1. Ziploc bags: they are not sold here, no zipper bags, just the lame kind that fold like sandwiches. I went to a military base in Vicenza 2 weeks ago and bought some quart size Ziplock bags that I am now washing and reusing. Ladies, be thankful for ziploc.
2. Kleenex Coldcare with Lotion: no soft tissue here! What is the deal with that? Winter means soft tissue is needed.
3. OPI nailpolish: don't laugh. It is the best stuff and having my nails done makes me feel good. OPI doesn't smell so strong, dries fast and stays on for about 2 weeks. I'm not even kidding, it is the best stuff. I found one high end boutique shop that sells it for 16 Euros. That is 20 dollars for a bottle of nail polish. I tried other brands and they just were not like OPI, "the one".
4. Wearing Sweats: You cannot leave the house looking anything less than perfect in small-town Italy. Clothes need to look new, tags showing who you are wearing, and shoes need to be of the current season or a well known designer. If you leave the house feeling comfy, shame will come on you! People look, not a glance, they look like owls and don't contain their disapproval. What I would pay for my freshman college class to walk through this mini main street the way they used to show up to 8 AM class: flannel pjs and hangovers. The women of my town would be thrillingly shocked and it would be the news of the month, who knows, even the year. "Those Americans have no taste!"
5. Petsmart: decent prices and the pets are treated like pets, not wild animals
6. Reasonable priced clothing: It is a shame when a 30 dollar dress cost 120 euros. I used to buy clothes at Calvin Klein for work and think that 60 dollars was hefty for a pair of pants. Here I can forget about that! If I want Mr. Klein I need at least 100 euros for the same pants.
7. Knitters: Women under 60 don't knit here, neither do men. And the knitting group looks at me with disdain for being young and wasting my time knitting and being married under the age of 30. Here the majority of women I have met who are settling down are around 35 and having a kid near 40. No...just no...In the US I am a late bloomer just getting married and here I am like a child bride. I miss my knitting group in Baltimore. "Stitch n' Bitch" was the nicest place to spend a Saturday morning and the most talented knitter was a male flight attendant.
8. My Sewing Machine: Mr. Volt, of Pavia, should have set a law that all countries had to have the same voltage. My sewing machine at 120 volts will die if I try to use it at 240 volts (EU voltage) and a simple converter wont work. I need a piece that costs 200 dollars to convert 120 input to 240 output and they don't sell it in my little town. Nope, not even in Euronics, the closest version to Best Buy. Damn the electric gods.
9. Starbucks with free wireless and soft chairs: No fancy coffee here. What?! Yep, there are 3 coffee choices: espresso, espresso macchiato (with some milk, incidentally milk is called "Latte") and a cappuccino. That's it. Done. One size. Oh, and don't forget to get dressed up before going to get coffee or you will get sneered at. Also no take out cups. You will never see an Italian walking and drinking from a paper coffee cup. No cup holders in strollers, no cup holders in cars. No cup holders. None. Oh, and it is also looked down on if you want to take left overs home from the restaurant. It means that you don't have food at home.
10. Openmindedness: I understand why people are closed minded and clannish here and at the same time I don't because of my own background. Here, in Northern Italy, people fought for centuries to protect themselves and what they had. Italy is young, only 150 years old and for centuries the people here were battling each other for territory. That is why there are so many castles protecting the little towns from invaders. What better way to keep your family and town safe than to build 30 feet tall walls around the community. Maybe that is why it is hard to think outside of the box! And most recently, the 2nd WW made Italy one of the most bombed countries, it really suffered a lot. So I understand why outsiders, and different ways of thinking are thought of as intimidating and are pushed away. But there are some things like cultural ignorace and racism that I can't accept. Comments on the bus from local ladies openly directed at children who could hear them "Good heavens, look at that! The Chinese children go to school like normal people." and the buddy responding, "What else will they do? They are too young to work." Or another, "I am not racist you know. My friends daughter adopted a child from Haiti and I tell that baby he is a beautiful piece of chocolate every time I see him" It is a person ma'am, not a Hershey. And in the grocery store, "See that Chinese lady? She is obviously the nanny. I hear they are more affordable. With this crisis people will get anyone." First all the lady was not Chinese, she was Filipino American, and secondly it was her own child who looked like her. I loved hearing that baby sing Sesame Street. Of course, I will never forget the immigration officers in Brescia screaming at the immigrants to speak only Italian, or the people who refused to talk to me because of my accent. It reminds me, in a way, of Shylock in "The Merchant of Venice" by Shakespeare where he cries:
However the history here is I can't agree with some cultural behaviours because I come from a country that opened it's doors to immigrants regardless of where they came from. My country grew from the strength and courage of people from all over the globe who left what they knew in their country to go to something unknown, be brave and work hard, and because of that I see the value of people. Today is the anniversary of the death of a great man who helped pave the way for the USA to be what it is. John Brown, an abolitionist against slavery in the USA, died being hung in Harpers Ferry West Virginia on December 2. Harpers Ferry was one of my favorite weekend places to go to when I lived in Baltimore. I am thankful for brave people like him that fought against prejudice to make the US what it is today.
Here is to home, lovely West Virginia for John Brown and just today a big "bah humbug".
Things that I am homesick for:
1. Ziploc bags: they are not sold here, no zipper bags, just the lame kind that fold like sandwiches. I went to a military base in Vicenza 2 weeks ago and bought some quart size Ziplock bags that I am now washing and reusing. Ladies, be thankful for ziploc.
2. Kleenex Coldcare with Lotion: no soft tissue here! What is the deal with that? Winter means soft tissue is needed.
3. OPI nailpolish: don't laugh. It is the best stuff and having my nails done makes me feel good. OPI doesn't smell so strong, dries fast and stays on for about 2 weeks. I'm not even kidding, it is the best stuff. I found one high end boutique shop that sells it for 16 Euros. That is 20 dollars for a bottle of nail polish. I tried other brands and they just were not like OPI, "the one".
4. Wearing Sweats: You cannot leave the house looking anything less than perfect in small-town Italy. Clothes need to look new, tags showing who you are wearing, and shoes need to be of the current season or a well known designer. If you leave the house feeling comfy, shame will come on you! People look, not a glance, they look like owls and don't contain their disapproval. What I would pay for my freshman college class to walk through this mini main street the way they used to show up to 8 AM class: flannel pjs and hangovers. The women of my town would be thrillingly shocked and it would be the news of the month, who knows, even the year. "Those Americans have no taste!"
5. Petsmart: decent prices and the pets are treated like pets, not wild animals
6. Reasonable priced clothing: It is a shame when a 30 dollar dress cost 120 euros. I used to buy clothes at Calvin Klein for work and think that 60 dollars was hefty for a pair of pants. Here I can forget about that! If I want Mr. Klein I need at least 100 euros for the same pants.
7. Knitters: Women under 60 don't knit here, neither do men. And the knitting group looks at me with disdain for being young and wasting my time knitting and being married under the age of 30. Here the majority of women I have met who are settling down are around 35 and having a kid near 40. No...just no...In the US I am a late bloomer just getting married and here I am like a child bride. I miss my knitting group in Baltimore. "Stitch n' Bitch" was the nicest place to spend a Saturday morning and the most talented knitter was a male flight attendant.
8. My Sewing Machine: Mr. Volt, of Pavia, should have set a law that all countries had to have the same voltage. My sewing machine at 120 volts will die if I try to use it at 240 volts (EU voltage) and a simple converter wont work. I need a piece that costs 200 dollars to convert 120 input to 240 output and they don't sell it in my little town. Nope, not even in Euronics, the closest version to Best Buy. Damn the electric gods.
9. Starbucks with free wireless and soft chairs: No fancy coffee here. What?! Yep, there are 3 coffee choices: espresso, espresso macchiato (with some milk, incidentally milk is called "Latte") and a cappuccino. That's it. Done. One size. Oh, and don't forget to get dressed up before going to get coffee or you will get sneered at. Also no take out cups. You will never see an Italian walking and drinking from a paper coffee cup. No cup holders in strollers, no cup holders in cars. No cup holders. None. Oh, and it is also looked down on if you want to take left overs home from the restaurant. It means that you don't have food at home.
10. Openmindedness: I understand why people are closed minded and clannish here and at the same time I don't because of my own background. Here, in Northern Italy, people fought for centuries to protect themselves and what they had. Italy is young, only 150 years old and for centuries the people here were battling each other for territory. That is why there are so many castles protecting the little towns from invaders. What better way to keep your family and town safe than to build 30 feet tall walls around the community. Maybe that is why it is hard to think outside of the box! And most recently, the 2nd WW made Italy one of the most bombed countries, it really suffered a lot. So I understand why outsiders, and different ways of thinking are thought of as intimidating and are pushed away. But there are some things like cultural ignorace and racism that I can't accept. Comments on the bus from local ladies openly directed at children who could hear them "Good heavens, look at that! The Chinese children go to school like normal people." and the buddy responding, "What else will they do? They are too young to work." Or another, "I am not racist you know. My friends daughter adopted a child from Haiti and I tell that baby he is a beautiful piece of chocolate every time I see him" It is a person ma'am, not a Hershey. And in the grocery store, "See that Chinese lady? She is obviously the nanny. I hear they are more affordable. With this crisis people will get anyone." First all the lady was not Chinese, she was Filipino American, and secondly it was her own child who looked like her. I loved hearing that baby sing Sesame Street. Of course, I will never forget the immigration officers in Brescia screaming at the immigrants to speak only Italian, or the people who refused to talk to me because of my accent. It reminds me, in a way, of Shylock in "The Merchant of Venice" by Shakespeare where he cries:
Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs,
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with
the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject
to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison
us, do we not die?
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with
the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject
to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison
us, do we not die?
Here is to home, lovely West Virginia for John Brown and just today a big "bah humbug".
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