“WHAT MAKES EXPAT LIFE SO ADDICTIVE IS THAT EVERY BORING OR MUNDANE ACTIVITY YOU EXPERIENCE AT HOME (LIKE GROCERY SHOPPING, COMMUTING TO WORK OR PICKING UP THE DRY CLEANING) IS, WHEN YOU MOVE TO A FOREIGN COUNTRY, SUDDENLY TRANSFORMED INTO AN EXCITING ADVENTURE. WHEN ABROAD, BOREDOM, ROUTINE, AND ‘NORMAL’ CEASE TO EXIST. AND ALL THAT’S LEFT IS THE THRILL AND CHALLENGE OF UNCERTAINTY.”
I felt like I am in the film Rear Window today. Here is why…
The rain started and my window is wide open. I don’t need a telescope, as did ‘Jeff’ from the film, as the view is clear and sharp. People watching can be quite the past time here I am discovering.
Today, a nonna aka: a grandma (at least that’s how I would describe her) opened the large rolling window shade of her apartment and started mopping the balcony. Her daily routine had been interrupted by the downpour of rain and lightning. Her black floral house dress fell off her shoulder as she grabbed the green plastic chairs on the balcony and stuffed them deeper under the overhang. She hurried to mop pooling water off the balcony but the rain continued and just brought more. I was enthralled to observe her passion for cleaning up the rain that kept coming like the energizer bunny who keeps banging the same drum over and over, when behind her a figure of a man appeared. Aka: nonno
His arms were at his side, and his white belly protruded. He stood watching his wife, all the while, bravely displaying his whitey tighties that stretched tight around his waist. La nonna pushed the water back and forth from the view of the large glass paneled doors. However, unlike his steady calm gaze at his wife, my mushroom pasta dish I had prepared almost spewed from my mouth. I laughed out loud at my new daily view. Yes, life in Italy has great moments that come from routine.
It’s the daily adventures that keep one guessing and smiling.
Take for example a trip to the grocery store. If you want to have a grocery discount card, (which who doesn’t) it’s important to understand, there is a process.
At first it seems no different from the States. They ask for your identity card, which of course I don’t have yet, (another story) so, I produce my passport. Oh and don’t forget you also will need your italian social security number (sidebar: I still am trying to figure out how to memorize such a long series of numbers and letters. If anyone has a suggestion on how to do this, please comment below).
I was beginning to wonder if I was signing my life away to get this discount grocery card. The amusing part though is when the questions start: Where are you from? Why are you here? Why this small town? And these are the questions that I THINK I understood.
Italian summer melons
But the good news is it doesn’t matter if you answer all, or some, because people will keep speaking italian to you regardless of whatever rolls off your tongue. At least if you keep trying, they too will keep repeating over and over the words for you.
And let’s not forget to be thankful for gestures, google maps, and smartphones!
Next, once the cards are issued, and I pluralize the word card on purpose, because instead of one card being issued you receive two. Why two I probe in my extremely limited Italian? “For your boyfriend.”
Eye rolling, and chuckle come from me, while smiles come from the men behind the counter. Because yes, it does take two people to fill out paperwork, examine a passport, ask questions, and look up information on your smartphone and of course, issue a discount grocery card.
Only in Italy.
You gotta love it here, and I do. I so, do.
