First Few Weeks

It's been a great first few weeks.

Besides eating more than 100,000 strands of spaghetti and over 25 full pizza pies (I've had two today alone), I've really enjoyed getting to know the whole lifestyle over here.

I've made a few observations over that are worth sharing. At least I think so. Hey, it's my blog.

1) It's about quality, not quantity. I'm talking about coffee. Coffee here is small. It tastes great, but it's small.

You know, in America when you go for a coffee date, it's a big step - well, maybe not a big step, but it's certainly an hour or two of talking. This, I think, is partially due to the size of the cups: No matter how boring the date is in America, the size of the cup will keep you there trying to think of things to talk about for at least an hour.

Here, I wonder if a coffee date is an insult. Well, maybe not an insult, but certainly something to the negative (Maybe a coffee date here is like asking to go to lunch in America. Good, but it's not like going to dinner.) The coffee comes in very small cups. I can't imagine a coffee date lasting longer than ten minutes, unless there is a second cup. I've spent a long time thinking about this, and I wonder: Do you take your time with that first cup, sipping only occasionally - knowing that that one cup will have to last for the duration of the date? Or do you get a second cup somewhere along the way? And if you get a second cup, is that second cup assumed from the output of the date (You certainly wouldn't want to assume a second cup when a second cup shouldn't be assumed.)? Or is the second cup only something that you get if the date is going pretty super duper well?

2) It's not as easy to talk to people as you told me it would be.

The other day a beautiful restaurant hostess stopped me on the street. "Ciao," she said, smiling.
"Ciao," I said, smiling too.
"Come va?" She asked. (How are you?)
I'm no Italian pro, and it took me a few seconds to realize that "Bene" was the right thing to say. She noticed and giggled a bit. "No italiano?" she asked. "No italiano," I said. "English?" I asked. "No English," she answered. We laughed, and we both had to force pre-emptive goodbye ciaos because, after all, how much more could we say to one another? Natural charm will only go so far.

One night a few weeks ago, I sat in for a few tunes at a local jazz club. A man came up to me afterwards speaking very fast, patting my back, and shaking my hand. He was very excited. I had no idea what he was saying. I said, "Sorry. No italiano." He said, "Sorry. No Ingles." We laughed, and in reference to what he had previously said, he, after a good five seconds of thought, said "Complimento!" Still, I wish I knew what he had said.

3) I've never seen such thin leather jackets.

4) It's about quality and also quantity. I'm talking about dinners. Never rushed. Gotta ask for the check. Long quantities, in terms of time. And great quality, in terms of food. I do like the slower pace. Can walk at my normal speed (aka. Atlanta Chastain Park speed, not New York Starbucks speed.)

Actually learned a few interesting things in school too. Here's three:
1) The Italian Prime-Minister, Silvio Berlusconi, is a pretty crazy guy. Apparently, on a recent trip to Israel, he told the head of some Catholic union or something the following joke: "Just after Jesus was born Joseph looked over and saw Mary sitting with a frown. 'What's wrong?', he asked. 'I was hoping for a girl,' she replied.

2) Hitler blew up all the bridges on the Arno River during WWII, except for the Ponte Vecchio. One circulating story about why he didn't is that the Italian Resistance, stationed on the other side of the bridge, snuck through the tunnels on top of the bridge, cut the chord to the grenade, and when the German troops pulled the plug, nothing happened.

3) There is a plaque in the Santa Maria Novella train station that recognizes the exact spot -track five- where the Florentine Jews last saw their city during WWII, after the city's Jews were rounded up and forced to board the train that brought them to the death camps.