Italia vs. Italy

In La Bella Figura, Bebbe Severgnini wittily describes the Italian culture and disposition. He strives to chisel away at that the American fantasy of ‘Italy’, with its olive trees, wine vineyards, luscious food and speedy romances. Severgnini says, “Let’s get one thing straight. Your and Italy and our Italia are not the same thing.” He makes it clear that ‘Italia’ is difficult to understand and is thus a good place for poets to speculate over its realities.
In response to Severgnini, let me get one thing straight. Although, I am a straniera, I am not a tourist. After a year, I feel that ‘Italia’ is my second home. While I may have arrived with some preconceived notions, I certainly did not expect to experience the Italy Francis Mayes creates in Under the Tuscan Sun.
As a straniera, I must agree with Severgnini. The way I perceive ‘Italy’ is not the way my Italian friends perceive their country. While ‘Italy’ is my jungle gym, ‘Italia’ it is their office. I am told constantly told that I do not understand ‘Italia’. To an extent, this holds some truth. I do not understand what it’s like to have an entertainer for a president, or why one accelerates at a pedestrian crosswalk. I do not understand why I cannot lick my espresso spoon and why a couple living together for seven years do not just get married. I do understand why the Italian men take longer to get ready than I do, or why I have to wait until after 8pm to eat dinner.
Sometimes I am still perplexed about Italian culture. After almost a year in Italy, one would think things would start to click. However, I still find myself getting frustrated at things that I should just accept as ‘Italian’. I should know that a stop sign in Italy is just a suggestion, not a requirement. That way, when the for the fifteenth time a car rolls through the stop sign, barely missing me as a moving target, I can just exhale instead of yelling furiously at the driver who looks as innocent as an angel. This is his road and I am simply a straniera jogger in the midst of his daily routine.
Nevertheless, I do understand a few things for which Severgnini does not give his audience credit. I understand I cannot change the things I do not appreciate about another culture. Instead, I must change my perception in an attempt to adapt. Also, understanding the culture does not make me any more Italian than not understanding the culture. I will always be an outsider and observer in this curious “maze”. I must be conscious of my identity as a straniera and I embrace it.
There are things I love about the true ‘Italia’ and I have come to really appreciate at face value. Therefore in some ways I have merged my ‘Italy’ and Severgnini’s ‘Italia’. I understand the value of the slow food movement. I am fond of how families stay together for a lifetime and how children are not expected to move out of the house at age eighteen. I understand the tradition of grandparents being the daytime caregivers. I now even enjoy the journey of getting somewhere and not just the destination. Since I am not a tourist, they have become part of my daily life. When I return to the United States, these are the true things I will cherish about Italy. Besides, when an American driver stops to let me cross, I may actually be disappointed that I do not have to dodge a near death experience.