I feel like I just got off the plane, and here I am once again on another plane. This time, Connecticut bound. But as I head off to Connecticut, to drop off Alex in college once again, I want to do a summary of my Italy trip. As if I didn't write enough about this, you may think. I promise to put it to rest after this last journal entry.
Italy is a magnificent country, probably my favorite of all the countries I've visited so far which is really not that many considering there are 195 countries in the world and I have only been to 15. But Italy touches my heart in a way that no other country does, even Spain where I grew up and where my ancestors came from. Maybe I should do one of those ancestry tests to see if I have Italian running through my blood.
Italy has a little bit of everything. Amazing views, terrific food, beautiful art, magnificent churches, incredible history... But what touches me the most is the past it has. Beyond the history, I feel the people that have been there for over 2,000 years. On this trip, especially, I felt my heart beat faster and my skin turn to goose every time I walked where St. Paul walked before, where St. Peter was crucified, where Michelangelo painted, where Bernini created his sculptures, where Padre Pio preached, where St. Andrew rests... I don't know if the older I get, the more emotional I become because it certainly didn't affect me this way when I came for the first time almost a decade ago.
Italians have a reputation of being super nice but honestly, in general, that has not been my experience at all. As a matter of fact, I found the French to be nicer on the occasion I went to France. Overall, Italians have been dry and sometimes rude. The few that struck a conversation with us radically changed when we told them we were Cuban. At that point they wanted to talk. They wanted to hear our opinion on the changes happening between the United States and Cuba. Of course, when they found out that we were still against Castro, then they turned dry again. I've realized that most of the world just doesn't understand how much pain and suffering Castro has caused. They don't see him as another Hitler, they think we are exaggerating. But I'm getting sidetracked.
At least this time around I didn't get into any arguments with Italians. Nine years ago when we came with the kids, I exchanged angry words with one. We were trying to buy an all day pass to spend the day at Lake Como hopping from town to town. The sailor on the boat didn't speak a lot of English or Spanish and we didn't speak a lot of Italian. So I was trying to make myself understood, and finally he said "torno?" And I answered "Si, torno." I figured that meant "return." So we paid the fee, got on the boat and the first stop was a town named "Torno" which we had no intention of visiting. He practically kicked us out of the boat. I started arguing with him that this is not where we wanted to go but he insisted that we had bought a ticket to Torno (which unfortunately we had), and he was pretty nasty about it. My husband said, "let's just get off and we'll catch the next boat." As we were getting off, some Italians that had witnessed the whole incident, told us in English: "If you don't want to go to Torno, don't get off. No other boat stops here until the end of the day." The five of us literally jumped back on the boat. After another argument with the guy, we paid the difference in fare for an all-day multiple stop ticket, and we got off on the next town.
We spent about an hour on that town and then walked up to the marina to catch the next ferry. There must be hundreds of ferries in Lake Como on any given day. I couldn't believe my eyes when the boat that arrived one hour later was the same one that had dropped us off. When the sailors saw that it was us again, they began to laugh. And we laughed with them. We discovered then that they do have a softer side, you just have to dig deep to find it. And I guess on a vacation there's just not enough time to dig so deeply.
Of course, I'm speaking in general terms. There are always exceptions and we did meet some super nice Italians: the owners of Don Alfonso Ristorante went out of their way to make us feel at home, the driver that took us there was friendly and talkative, the shuttle driver of the hotel in Amalfi was a gentle old man that always had a smile on his face (which is admirable when he had to deal with those Amalfi roads and traffic various times a day), the family in Pietrelcina that we encountered when we got lost and literally walked us to the road that we were supposed to be on, the young guys and gal that worked at the reception in the Florence hotel were really sweet, the older gentleman in Rome that saw us looking at a map and asked us if we needed help finding an address, and both of the guides that gave us the Vatican and the Scavi tours couldn't have been nicer. So I'll give a break to the ones that didn't smile or were rude. After all, I don't always smile and when I'm having a bad day, I can be a pain in the neck. Who am I to judge?
One thing they are is very devout. Even if they don't go to church, they truly believe in their patron saints, Mama Mary and God. Mama Mary was everywhere. Her image was not just inside the churches we visited. She was in every street corner, every piazza and many restaurants. And every town has its own patron saint but they are not prejudice, they pray to all the other saints as well. And I saw more than one driver do the sign of the cross as they passed by an image of Mary and/or a church. The Naples taxi driver was a little wild but he slowed down at one point to do the sign of the cross. Then he sped up. I told my husband jokingly, "he must be praying for protection, since he's quite the dare devil."
Some things that Italians have truly mastered is the food. Every dish we ate was spectacular. Even after getting sick of eating pasta, it was still delicious. And the gelato... I am an ice cream fanatic. I could live on ice cream. And I'm not too picky. My favorite is "Carvel" because I love soft ice cream. But I'm fine with Haagen-Dazs, Cold Stone, even Publix ice cream. But nothing beats gelato. It's just so creamy and yummy. I'm salivating just writing about it. I'm going to have to visit the UConn Dairy Bar this weekend to appease my ice cream fetish.
Another thing that they are really good at is the driving. I guess they have to when you have to navigate such narrow-curvy roads, and squeeze yourself into the tightest spaces to park. I did not witness an accident the entire time I was in Italy. I'm sure they happen, of course, but in Miami, rare is the day that I don't see an accident. In Italy, not even one. I guess all the signs of the cross they do while driving is working in their favor and the angels are working over time in Italy. 😜
My favorite Italian thing by a mile is "il dolce far niente" (the sweetness of doing nothing). It has nothing to do with being lazy. They are hard workers, but they have managed to find the perfect balance between work and life enjoyment. They have really mastered the joie de vivre. That is something we in the States could do a lot more off. I am convinced we would see a drop on heart attacks, cancer and all the other ailments that I have no doubt are directly related to stress. What is the point of working 50-60 hour weeks if we are not going to give ourselves time to enjoy life? We work and spend at the same rate, but we are accumulating material things and forgetting to enjoy the ones that are free: the smile of a child, walking hand in hand with a loved one, sitting at the beach doing nothing and truly enjoying it...
Some things they really need to improve in Italy, like the plumbing system. It should not be necessary to have to flush a toilet five times. And this happened in all the hotels, which were nice hotels. I can't imagine what would happen in one of those hostels that our young kids love to use when they travel abroad.
And in conclusion, as we have seen by the images of the horrible earthquake that struck Italy just a few days after we left, the Italians look out for each other. When push comes to shove, they unite and all the barriers are broken. Even in spite of the danger of the aftershocks, a whole country came together to save the victims. And even the neighboring countries and many other countries far and wide, offered a helping hand. Because at the end of the day, we are not Italians or Americans or Cubans or Jews or Christians or Muslems. We are humans and we all put family first. It would be great if we learned to join hands, not just when an earthquake strikes but all the time.
This truly was an amazing trip, in more ways than one, and even though I still have 180 countries to visit, Italy is definitely on my "return to" list.
Prego!!!
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