Counting Robert’s Relatives

Aunts: Aunt Norma and Zia Angela Marchesin in San Mateo. In past years, Zia Lucia Sabbatini in San Francisco, and Zia Santa (Bartoloni) Sabbatini in Rome. Four. That’s it.

First Cousins: Adriana and Luciana Sabbatini, the sisters in Rome and sometimes Serra. Two. That’s all. 

Second Cousins: Whoa. On his dad Abramo’s side, Robert’s grandfather Filodelfo Sabbatini had six sisters, and his wife Giacinta Berardi had maybe two brothers. So there are second cousins in the Bay Area all the way to Nevada City as well as in Le Marche, Umbria, and Rome. We keep discovering more. On his mother Emma’s side, his grandfather Costantino Marchesin had two brothers, resulting in lots of cousins in the Veneto. His wife Maria Luigia (Gigia) Piccoli had siblings too, but Robert is not aware of how many. Some of these cousins live in the Veneto region. Some in Brazil. 

Everyone Knows We’re Not Italian 

How do they know? We walk into a place and before we open our mouths they reach for the English version of the menu or start chatting to us in English. They aren’t sure what we are, but they know we aren’t Italian. Bonnie is probably too tall and pale to be Italian. But Robert? When they try to guess Robert’s nationality they guess Dutch, German, French, and other things, but almost never American.

Food and Allergies

Italians are highly attuned to everything about food, and this includes food sensitivities, which they take very seriously. Restaurants often include the government-prepared list of allergens in the menus. (Bonnie is a number 7, sensitive to milk products.) Some menus then tag each dish with numbers, making it easy for Bonnie to skim through and avoid dishes with the number 7. But when the printed menu doesn’t have those details, the servers are usually knowledgeable about ingredients. In California, Bonnie often has to explain that although, yes, she is sensitive to dairy products, no, she does not have a problem with eggs. No one in Italy is confused about what dairy means.

Dogs

Yes, there are Labradors in Italy, but mostly Bonnie sees dogs of her childhood. Spaniels, beagles, dachshunds, and various other retrievers—dogs rarely seen in San Francisco. Jack Russells are popular, especially in Perugia. Each city has its distinctive population. In Rome, dogs are big. In Sicily the mixed breeds (appropriate to Sicily that has Greek, Spanish, French ancestries) are confounding. And everyone picks up after their dogs. No messes on the sidewalks. Cousin Luciana claims that dogs have become common in Italy just in the past decade.

Music in Restaurants

Music in restaurants puzzles us. Lyrics are almost always in English. Much of the music verges on 80s disco, even in restaurants that are quite dignified and mature. 

Overheard Phone Conversations

Most often overheard: “Ciao, mama,” and discussions of food for the next meal.

The Personal Touch

We are sometimes frustrated by poor signage or sketchy written instructions in Italy, but Italians don’t expect you to do things yourself. They expect to help you.

Example 1–Polizia in a Small Town

Pink-cheeked policeman in Macerata. Our navigation device failed to find our hotel in this small medieval town, and after a couple of frustrating loops around town in the car, we flagged down a policeman on foot to ask if we could drive into a pedestrian-restricted street. He pleasantly redirected us, sent us to a piazza to park, met us there, and walked with us to the hotel lobby, entertaining us along the way with information about local museums, offering to take us, and playing the NBC Today Show with Jenna Bush app on his phone to demonstrate how he practices his English. When we arrived at the hotel, the clerk took over with the same high level of assistance and sly humor, driving our car from the piazza to the hotel, giving us detailed directions to a public parking structure beyond the city wall, calculating our parking fee for three days, and giving us the right number of coins for the machine. Wow. With all this personal attention, our landing in Macerata could not have been softer. Bonnie and the policeman continued to wave to one another at least once a day over the next few days.

Example 2–Not Your USA Post Office

Italian paperwork. Bureaucratic forms here are frightening. Long and difficult to understand. Bonnie compared notes with two other Americans who also needed to tackle the forms for a long-term stay. We had all conscientiously downloaded the forms and filled out what we could before appearing at the post office. No. No. No. At the post office they expect to fill out the forms FOR you, WITH you! It is assumed you will get personal attention.

Example 3–Museum Staff Are Here to Serve

Museums. Bonnie is amazed by the large number of staff at museums and the individual attention they expect to give you. Sometimes buying an entry ticket takes forever because the family in front of you is getting a thorough orientation from the ticket seller. At some specialized museums, such as the Inquisition Museum in Palermo or the antique pharmacy in Scicli, a staff member accompanies you (just the two of us) throughout the visit. At the carriage museum in Macerata, the docent saw us get into a carriage, rushed over, inserted the postcard we had selected into a slot, and set us off on a (stationary) bumpy ride to the next town created with video on three sides. Fabulous. We would have never figured out how to do it. Also in Macerata, four of us tourists got a 90-minute free tour by a knowledgeable docent through a fabulous modern Italian art collection, a historic library, and the city clock tower. It is not possible to visit these spots on your own. We learned about the tour because while we browsed in the spacious local tourist office, the young clerk behind the desk could not resist shouting across the office to us, engaging us in personal contact even when we were 20 feet away with our backs turned. Personal attention whether you want it or not.

Example 4–Pharmacists. Walk with Me. Talk with Me.

Pharmacies. The ultimate in personal attention. Buying Tylenol in Italy is nothing like going to Walgreen’s and picking up a bottle of 100 or more for less than $20. At a pharmacy in Italy, you will definitely have a dignified personal encounter with a pharmacist. Italians use pharmacies the way Americans use urgent-care facilities. And in Italy, almost all the pharmacy products are behind the counter. Even if you are browsing for something out in front like toothpaste or sunscreen, a pharmacist quickly appears at your side to consult. To buy the Italian equivalent of Tylenol, you go to the counter, ask the pharmacist, she disappears for a minute, then reappears with a package of 20 tablets for 9 euros. Antacids? 20 tablets for 9 euros. Decongestants? 12 tablets for 12 euros. Ask for two packages. She may have two. Ask for three packages, she will not have three. Which means you will return the following week for another personal encounter with the lovely, well-trained pharmacist. And if you need organic baby food, they have that too.

Retail Geography

Bonnie has honed her urban geography expertise in the spatial organization of retail, something probably unrecognized by her male geography colleagues or even the few female ones. For example, you arrive in a smallish Italian city at 4 pm and want to quickly find the local passeggiata? If there is no obvious main square with cathedral, check Google maps for the location of the Luisa Spagnoli clothing store. It will be on the main retail strip attracting the most pedestrian activity. This brand of women’s clothing, barely known in the US, is ubiquitous in Italy. 

Depending on the size of the town, you might also check for Benetton, Max Mara, or Sephora. Bonnie can tell you which regions of the country and which size towns support which brands. Max Mara women’s clothing will have the most desirable location. Sephora will be within a block of its cosmetics competitors: Kiko, MAC, Douglas, and Wycon. Benetton will be in every tiny town in the North, near the mother ship in Treviso. Bonnie isn’t shopping in these places (except Sephora), but using them to figure out how the town is organized. This is helpful when she is looking for a hotel or Airbnb apartment in a central location in a city she doesn’t know. But, of course, Venice breaks all the rules.

Bonnie and Robert spend their time in rarified historic districts, seldom venturing to an outlying shopping mall for the equivalent of Target or Home Depot. But some historic districts seem like genuine places and others like Disneyland. To Bonnie, the mark of a real place is a fabric store or two. It suggests that women she would like to meet live nearby. For Robert it is a macelleria (butcher shop). These retail businesses let us know a true community exists here.

Bonnie and Robert especially like mercatos and explore them all. Both the covered permanent markets for produce in cities and the weekly markets where traveling vendors set up their stalls in even the tiniest towns. The Thursday morning mercato in Macerata surprised us by filling one piazza, stretching up a steep street and into another piazza, and pushing tentacles out beyond that. Shoes were especially prominent, because Le Marche is filled with shoe factories. Purses, too. Bedding and towels looked tempting. The prominent displays of men’s and women’s underwear are always amusing. One or two vendors offer housewares. Cheap clothing is abundant in every market at prices of 5 to 10 euros (6 to 12 dollars). Italian women mix high and low even without H&M or Zara nearby. A dress from Max Mara and a scarf from the mercato are common on stylish women.

It’s Getting Cold for Robert

Yikes. Robert is becoming even more Italian. Evidence: The temperature drops to 72 degrees.  Bonnie is relieved. Robert is feeling chilly and looking for a long-sleeved shirt or even a jacket or maybe even a scarf.