#7: Buon Lavoro!
Ciao Nonni!
David and I went for dinner the other night (with the lovely Ilenia - she of the magical tomatoes - babysitting the bambini) and we had a rare opportunity to catch up and reflect on everything about our move so far and how we're feeling. Over a plate of the most delicious fried anchovies I have ever had the good fortune to inhale in my life, and with an exceptional glass of white wine that cost 4 euros, but would easily fetch three times that much in Australia.
The general consensus was that Italy is a dream, even when you manage to make it a reality. While we miss many people in Australia, we're still yet to long for anything else Australian. I'm sure this will come, but for now we remain completely infatuated with the Italian lifestyle and culture, at least the Lucchese-specific version.
One of David's favourite things is how much more deference is paid to the expertise of people in service roles. For example, menus (at non-tourist trap places) in Italy are very, very short. Often only a handful of primi, secondi and a single dessert option. They only offer what they know is the best, and you better fall into line or risk being branded as a tourist who insists on a steak well done (the ultimate sin).
The end result being that you receive a delicious meal, possibly of food you otherwise would not have tried, and they do not stretch their resources which would diminish the quality of even their better dishes. We love the attitude that the customer is NOT always right, in fact, it's best to assume the customer is an idiot and we'll all be the better for it.
While my Italian is still woefully inadequate, I've been trying my best in every interaction to at least have a go. Success has been mixed at best, but most people are still proving to be endlessly helpful and accommodating. It is funny how much a small tweak in language can make a huge difference though.
I'd been cheerfully parroting 'buona giornata' or 'buona serata' every time I leave a cafe / shop and I was always getting a slightly perfunctory 'you too' equivalent in response. However David told me that one of his new office friends (Luigi) had suggested 'buon lavoro' as an alternative farewell to someone who is at work. It basically translates to 'have a good workday' and while still friendly, it also acknowledges that they probably aren't going to have the time of their life while they are at their job. Well, the difference in response is immeasurable! Genuine smiles and thanks without fail. Grazie Luigi!
Finally, it would not be Italy if there weren't an endless clanging of church bells. We hear them every morning at 8am, as well as midday. And then on Sundays and special feast days you get a few bonus rounds thrown in. Tuesday night though I feel that Quasimodo might have gotten a bit carried away. An absolute cacophony exploded at 9:07pm (I checked the clock at the time, expecting to see a clean hour) and went on for about 15 minutes. I even searched Google to try and figure out if it was for a specific saint, but nothing major revealed itself. It will remain a mystery, unless you can solve it for me? Maybe next time I'll have to run down into the piazza to investigate!
Lots of love and hugs! I miss you.
Kate
