The War of Pleasantries
During most months, the Pleasantry War is barely noticable. When leaving an establishment or saying goodbye to an acquaintance, a few rounds of pleasantries are passed. Ciao. Ciao. Buona Giornata. Buona Giornata a te'. Bye. Bye. Have a good day...and so on. It's not so unusual, I guess. It's on par with the really chipper people in the US. But here, it's not chipperness, it's just good manners. I think I first noticed that the routine differed from ours back home when I heard an Italian saying goodbye on the phone. At first all was normal, the sing song pattern of two word phrases--the telltale sign of "winding down" a conversation, but then as the person went to hang up the phone (and by that I mean moved the thumb to the red button) the two people whispered ciao-ciao ciao-ciao-ciao ciao-ciao at each other. Not unlike the staccato rhythm of a machine gun sound effect.And then I started to realize that my own rounds of pleasantries were about two exchanges long only because a.) it's what I'm used to/comfortable with and b.) it's all I know how to say. Looking around me I saw more experienced folk, i.e., Italians, who spent more time saying goodbye to the shopkeepers than they spent in the store itself. This became especially evident at Christmas time. And what's more? I got to participate.
During the Christmas season I learned a few standard Holiday Greetings for my daily errands. Buon Natale, Buona Festa, Buon Anno. That's all I needed. Add that to the generic "Have a good day, thank you very much, and bye" and I was able to go back and forth for 20 seconds.
My dad got a kick out of this when he was in town. As we would walk out of the store, we'd stand at the door, take a deep breath, let loose with "GrazieBuonNataleBuonaFestaBuonAnnoBuonaGiornata" and then run out giggling. We'd always lose (it is their language), but it's good fun with manners.
The New Years War
I said this post was not going to be about Caesar or empires, and it's not, but I'd like for a moment to remember some of the more impressive historical advances of the Romans. There was, after all, the Holy Roman Empire, architectural and artistic masterpieces, and running water. Some truly great minds and leaders came out of this place. I think that the modern Roman feels that with all that historical collateral-intelligence why should they bother? My point: they do some really dumb things.
On New Year's Eve we walked out of the restaurant at 11:59. Out of the restaurant and into a war zone. We were met with yells from people on the balconies above and the hissing of firecrackers being thrown down to the street below. The street where we were standing. The firecrackers never hit us. They tended to land at our feet, under the gas tank of a neighboring motorino, exploding with a boom that echoed through the small alleys. We clasped hands, squealing with fear and excitement about all the revelry. I remember all of us exclaiming that "it is a litle scary. Can you imagine if those missiles weren't meant for fun? Can you imagine if you had to walk home on a normal Tuesday like this? Can you imagine if you thought the person throwing the explosives were trying to hit you?" and we continued our heart-stopping, squealing, darting, and ducking walk down the alley.
At about this time Ashley pointed out that one of the apartments was lighting Black Cats inside their apartment. It was at this time that I think we realized that these people were not only not trying to hit us, they weren't trying to not hit anything. They were throwing explosives blindly onto the street and onto their own floor.
So we turned around and took the long, boring, and safe walk home.
On New Year's Eve we walked out of the restaurant at 11:59. Out of the restaurant and into a war zone. We were met with yells from people on the balconies above and the hissing of firecrackers being thrown down to the street below. The street where we were standing. The firecrackers never hit us. They tended to land at our feet, under the gas tank of a neighboring motorino, exploding with a boom that echoed through the small alleys. We clasped hands, squealing with fear and excitement about all the revelry. I remember all of us exclaiming that "it is a litle scary. Can you imagine if those missiles weren't meant for fun? Can you imagine if you had to walk home on a normal Tuesday like this? Can you imagine if you thought the person throwing the explosives were trying to hit you?" and we continued our heart-stopping, squealing, darting, and ducking walk down the alley.
At about this time Ashley pointed out that one of the apartments was lighting Black Cats inside their apartment. It was at this time that I think we realized that these people were not only not trying to hit us, they weren't trying to not hit anything. They were throwing explosives blindly onto the street and onto their own floor.
So we turned around and took the long, boring, and safe walk home.
1 comment:
Yeh, that WAS cool....that back and forth with the good byes. I never got past the "ciao" and "buon natale" stage". But it WAS fun and I felt sort of Continental (for a Texan)for a couple of weeks :-) Mom
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