Friday, February 18, 2011

The Lunacy of Italy


I've been on some incredible trips in the past few days, but while I wait on a few photos from the Italian Alps and Verona, I thought I'd break this streak of blog silence (and appease my mother) by including some random and rather hilarious observations I've made in Italy that prove how different our cultures are. In no particular order: 

Everyone in Milano seems to have a dog. Without wasting an opportunity to be fashionable, many Milanese dogs are better dressed than I am. I'd say about 80% of those dogs have coats, and to my great amusement, those coats often have little hoods. I even saw a dog wearing a rain coat once. I guess it makes sense because the dogs go EVERYWHERE with the owners – including cafés – so they need to stay warm seeing as they're out for hours at a time, but it still makes me laugh. In Bologna, I climbed a HUGE leaning tower, and at the top I found two women with their dog taking photos. They carried  A DOG up an ancient, 3 meter tall tower! Also very strange, most of the dogs here don't even wear leashes, they just obediently and casually follow their owners. Ridiculous on so many accounts.  

No one here wears colors – only neutrals. (Black, gray, and a million shades of brown.) It's like New York to the max. My Mom sent me my long emerald green peacoat because I told her how much I had underestimated the cold weather. I wore it the next morning to school, and when I got onto the insanely packed metro during commuter hour (which a description for another time), I looked like a Christmas tree in the middle of the River Styx. (And yes, I just referenced mythology.)
 
Whenever I tell an Italian that I am from the States and/or that I live near New York, they always seem to respond with the same two things, usually in this order: 1. “You're from the States/New York? Why the HELL would you come here?!” 2. “It is my dream to go to the States.” When I ask where they want to visit in the States, I can't tell you how many times I've heard the same line-up: New York, California, and (of all places) Miami. Many Americans dream of coming to Italy, and it seems to be the dream of every Italian to come to the States.


I swear, there really are no driving laws in Italy. Forget about the insanely aggressive driving - the parking is hysterical. People park everywhere - including the sidewalks - but my favorite is at night: after all of the parallel spaces are taken on both sides of the road and there is no more room to squeeze your tiny tiny smart car illegally onto the sidewalk behind the legally parked cars, Italian drivers park down the MIDDLE of the road, straddling the white dashed lines. (I wish I had a picture of it but as of right now I do not - this is the best I can do for now. But I promise to work on it, because you won't believe it until you see it.)


Considering that Milan is (arguably) the fashion capital of the world, there sure are a lot of American clothing stores here... (please refer to photo featuring both H&M and Footlocker, but oh how that street in particular has SO many more American stores.)

After a stressful 15 minute game of charades and then some “let's see how much broken Itali-glese the two of us can piece together” at this here H&M near Il Duomo, I learned the hard way that you cannot return items you've purchased in Italy. (Itali-glese (noun): describing the interactions of two or more non-fluent speakers trying to communicate using broken Italiano and Inglese; (origin): Sarah's brain.) You can swap items that are the exact same price or more usually within 14 days of the original purchase, but they cannot give you a gift card for future use and they cannot refund your purchase. Quite inconvenient.

Much to my dismay, the concept of “to-go” doesn't exist in Italy - especially when it comes to coffee. (Perhaps that's why Italians are always late...) Also interesting, I just learned today from an Italian student that after noon, it is considered uncool to order a cappuccino or any other fancy drink disguised as coffee. Only normal, straight up coffee.



Everyone in Italy seems to be anti-PETA. (PETA = People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.) The city is filled with leather boots, leather purses, fur and leather coats, and an alarmingly large number of fur hats. (This here is a photo I took of a little old woman walking in front of me. Please her fur hat and leather bag. But trust me – there are WAY better examples walking around Milano right now.) In Florence, I actually saw a fur store next to a leather goods store. That pretty much sums up the Italian wardrobe.




Finally, one of my FAVORITE observations about Italian culture, young Italians can sing the words to EVERY Rihanna song, but they can't string together a proper sentence in English otherwise. Listening to them sing American music (which is the only music that is played in the clubs or on the radio – which is unedited, by the way) is so funny because half the time they don't know what they're saying, and because they've listened to the song so many times, they're able sing the whole thing without an Italian accent, but then they try to say something like “what are you doing tonight” and it comes out whuuut arrd yeew doING toonIt-uh? or whuuut tings yeew doo toonIt-uh? Touché, American music industry. You've successfully taught a generation of Europeans very important words such as “break it down” and key phrases like “want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Educating Generation Y one pop song at a time.

To Come: Stories and photos from Verona and snowboarding in the Alps. Stay tuned.


1 comment:

  1. I had the same music experience in France... a new Eminem song had just came out and we kept looking at them going, HI, do you KNOW what you're saying?? They were like, no... why??

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