A Masterpiece.

In my search of integration, I have gotten obsessed with learning about the kitschiest parts of Italian culture and recently I was introduced to some of the very best of the worst best that I just had to share it with y'all.


I decided this post needed to be written while Lindsey and Chris were visiting from Pescara. We went to a restaurant and I heard what is possibly one of my favortie Italian songs of all time: Insieme by Mina. In all honesty, months ago I wouldn't say that Mina belonged in this category. She is a wonderful artist with an amazing voice. And I'm such a fan of the lyrics on top of it all. My German friend Linda gave me some of her music and I went through periods where I would play it non-stop. Her hit Parole, Parole, Parole will really get stuck in my head sometimes, but in the good way. While talking over these songs with Gabriele, he finally showed me some of her performances on YouTube. I can't believe I had never thought to watch her before. I'd say she certainly knows how to work a camera. But the strangest part is that at some point she decided not to make any more appearances on television after a huge success there. What a character! I consider her along the Barbra Streisand persuasion, maybe because they are contemporaries with strong pipes.


Gabriele caught on to my enthusiasm for early 70s Italian music and reintroduced me to Raffaella Carrà. I had first heard one of her songs a few months back at a private concert by Pilar, which ended in a wonderfully amusing scene between the sweet voiced Pilar and the host of the concert dancing. The dance happened because the song she sang is called Tuca Tuca and is accompanied with a dance I'd consider a more intimate version of the macarena. Gabriele explained that this song was often played at school dances when he was in middle school (which just made me giggle a lot). Turns out Raffaella is a gay international symbol a la Madonna as a dancer with catchy songs that are popular not only in Italy but also Spain, Brazil, Greece, Russia, and elsewhere. She was also in trouble back in the day with the Vatican because she was the first womanin Italy to ever show her belly button on television! Che scandolo! Anyway, after hours of more clips, I knew I wanted to share a bit with you, but this video sealed the deal. Ladies and Gentlemen: Raffaella on the tour of Italy in Tanti Auguri. A masterpiece.

Say "duty" five times fast.

I have far too many things to write about that are greater adventures, but I wanted to tell a fun little story here for two reasons: 1. To remember it myself; 2. To give you all a chance into my daily life.

The theme of this story centers around the blunders one learns while learning to speak Italian.

As most of you know, today is election day in North Carolina for some primaries and a really big issue known as Amendment 1. Because I feel strongly about this issue and am even more aware of my citizenship while living abroad, I made sure to do my civil duty and get my absentee ballot. Not having a printer, I've had to visit the cartoleria, or paper shop, to do all of my printing, faxing, and scanning.

In years (let's be real, months) in the past, I was so insecure with speaking to strangers that this would have been a near-impossible task. Speaking to unknown people involves spontaneous changes in conversation, unknown words, and sometimes impatience and even bigotry. Plus my need to be right always put a damper on chatting with someone new. But after all this time here, I've mostly gotten over all of that. Some people are just not going to have the will to talk to a straniera like me.

Thankfully, though, the young and older man that work in my local paper store aren't like that at all. I've gone in about 7 times since October to handle paperwork, and although we had never had a conversation before yesterday, they were always patient and kind with me. So I walk in the store tranquillamente with my pen drive, ask for them to print a document, and say I'd like to fill it out and then I need to scan it. Both of these men jumped back a bit so I insisted that it'd be really quick, but then I needed to scan this document.

The young man took my pen drive, printed out my ballot, and I stepped to the side to fill it out while he helped someone else. When I finished, I handed over the papers to the young man and he went to the fax machine. I pointed to the scanner and said, "Excuse me, I wanted--" to which the older man interrupted, "Yes, I remember," and the young man laughed, excusing himself for forgetting. Great customer service, right?

I thought so, too. Then I got a whopping dose of humility with a language lesson:

Old man: You know why I remember you wanted a scan?
Me: No, why is that?
Old man: Because you wanted to use the word scannerizzare but said scannare.
Me: Oh, excuse me, you're right....
Old man: Do you know what scannare means? (He chuckles.)
Me: No, what does it mean?

At this point I'm getting nervous thinking of all the things I could have said.

Then the old man takes a pen in hand and holds it up to his neck, demonstrating how I wanted to skewer slaughter really quickly after having my document printed. Cue laughter and blushing. Remember that great customer service? The young man insisted it was okay. I decided his job must be really tough since he admitted it's difficult for him to hear the difference between "sheet" and, well, some other word starting with "sh" and ending with "t."