characteristics of italians and italy in 2006 and gubbio

The previous three essays spoke of the "emotions" of traveling while not sharing much about my feelings as a result of my 14 day trip to Italy (June 20-July 4). In this and the next essay I would like to speak of the way that my thoughts and feelings were sorted out or sharpened as a result of my Italian journey. First, I will begin with some observations of where I perceive Italy to be in 2006.

Italy in 2006

1. The Italian economy seems driven primarily by four realities: food, fashion, Fiats and (sorry I couldn't come up with another "F") tourist revenues. The women, as well as the men, still dress nattily; the food is sometimes the best you have ever tasted; the "tourist industry" is huge and seems to be growing. Is this enough on which to base the economy of a modern democracy? I think so, but the jury is still out on this one. The economic development potential of Italy in the summer has still not reached its limits--witness the beginning of the Trasimeno Music Festival in 2005 or the way that Italian wineries are beginning to market their wares in America. When I was in the Dominican Republic in April I learned that the primary sources of revenue for that Third World country were remittances from Dominicans abroad and tourist dollars (come to think of it, the 100 Dominican major league baseball players could probably underwrite together about 10% of the national budget). While Italy doesn't have much remittance revenue from Italians abroad (unless the Soprano family sends periodic money to the clan in Sicily), the tourist industry is very strong and will probably keep their economy fairly vigorous.

2. Most of the funds for cooling/refrigeration in the summer go not to cool hotel rooms and museums but, seemingly, to keep ice cream cold. In downtown Rome and Florence one had gelaterias on every block and sometimes more than one per block. If Starbucks were as present in Italy (I didn't see ONE) as were gelaterias, Howard Schultz would be the world's richest man.

3. The numbing reality in Italy, however, is that there seems to be a tremendous dearth of meaningful work and too many workers to do too little work. It was not unusual for us, in Spoleto, to pass shops that would have no patrons at any time we walked past them during the day. Restaurants would go an entire evening serving only five or six tables. A linen shop in Florence where Virginia shopped was empty of customers, and so the five or seven idle saleswomen descended on her in an instant. In addition, the workers in the leather industry in Florence, and Florence is known for its leather, don't live an easy life. Badgering tourists all day in 100 degree hea to possibly get a few to come back to the fan-cooled shops, of whom one or two might buy a jacket in a day is a difficult way to make life's ends meet.

4. The three hour afternoon closure of shops (mostly 1-4 p.m.), as well as 2 1/2 hour lunches and 3 hour dinners, seem to be embedded deeply into the culture and show no signs of changing. Occasionally we would see shops open throughout the day, especially on the more major thoroughfares of cities, but Italy is firmly committed to this as part of the culture. It may not be a bad lesson for fast-charging Americans to learn, not simply to slow down and smell the roses, but also to learn to savor the food we eat and appreciate those who bring it to us. It will be tough, however, for Americans to appreciate Italian manners. I recall one night in a restaurant where the waiter was moving from table to table with the speed of glacial encroachment. I signaled him to bring us the tab. He nodded and smiled at us. A few minutes later he came out, but not to our table. He returned a few minutes later but to take someone else's order. Virginia decided to go walking to some nearby restaurants to see how Italy was doing in its World Cup matches (we were delighted to see the gradual "pazzification"--growing craziness--of the Itallian people as the Italian team kept winning while we were there). She returned ten or fifteen minutes later with news about the game, but still our tab hadn't come. This was one of the most highly recommended restaurants in Spoleto. Just the way things were.

5. But, on the other hand, when the Italians had to spring into action to bring food, they could do so. We decided to go to an early theater performance, and so we had the hotel call a restaurant telling them we would show up for dinner at 6 (an almost unseemly early hour in Italy) before going to a play at 7. We walked in precisely at 6, and three waiters sprung to their feet as if they were shot out of a cannon. We left a nice tip.

5. Speaking of tips, I think I will never get straight how the tipping "works" in Italy, despite the fact that it is seemingly very easy to explain. That is, the service or cover charge either is or is not included in the final bill. Somewhere on the bill it is supposed to tell you that. If it is included, you are not expected to leave more than a small token of appreciation, perhaps a Euro or two. But often there isn't consistency as to whether this charge is included and therefore what the tipping "obligation" might be. This is made more acute if you ask a waiter whether tip is included. Of course they can't lie to you, but they know that it works to their advantage if you remain confused as to the answer. So, in more than one restaurant, the answer was, "You may leave what you wish." Ah, throw it right back on us. I suppose that I could have sought clarification along the way, but I didn't, and thus I ended up leaving far more in tips that I probably was expected to do. But, I am sure that when they see Americans coming they secretely rejoice, knowing that they have just hit the jackpot.

Getting Serious

With these semi-serious/semi-humorous observations to the side, let's examine some deeper issues and realizations about life.

1. In Italy you learn that the past both gives you identity but it may also significantly hinder your development. There is no place in the Western world where the roots of our culture are so celebrated as in Italy. Republican and Imperial Rome, early Christianity, medieval Europe, the Renaissance and Baroque eras, all are so firmly etched in the landscape, architecture and art of Italy that you cannot escape them. But the rich cultural identity so given by these works constrains and limits the culture, too. A simple example of this is from a medieval town, such as Gubbio. Quaintness will not receive its full definition until you take Gubbio into account. But as I was trundling through the rough and narrow cobblestone alleys of Gubbio last week it dawned on me that this glorious past also constrains the present. You can't drive through many of the old roads in cities; accessibility for people of less than perfect mobility is an impossibility; new forms of religious practice (for example) would not "fit" very well in front of medieval frescoes. Thus, my visit to Italy hit me deeply on the emotional level because it made me wonder the extent to which my immersion in the past (as if you couldn't tell) actually hurts my ability to listen to the raging or calm currents of the present. Though I am always "up" for learning about one more Medieval or Renaissance buildng/painting, I am wondering if I have learned "enough" history, so to speak, for the moment.

I have a few more thoughts/feelings along this line...

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