Italians love women. Italian men, especially, love women--all women. The whole world loves Italian women. I mean, when a country produces the likes of Sophia Loren and my mother...what's not to love?
Sophia to the left,
Mom to the right!!
And then there's Berlusconi, who really loves women---young women, women he puts into Parliament. Hmmmmm, and a nation follows him? So, do you think the men of Italy think if they vote for him they'll be able to live like him??? (
Secondo me, Mr. B has set women's rights back decades.)
I read recently that men in Italy can retire at 60, but women have to wait until 65. I also heard that in our local hospital, the male doctors are called
Dottore, while female doctors are called
Signora.
Italian men rarely help with the housework--it is considered beneath them. So if the wife is working outside the home, she is still expected to take care of the house, the laundry, the cooking, the kids. (My cousins Stefano and David are exceptions here.) I have another cousin who, living alone and divorced, took his shirts to Mama to be washed and ironed every week.
And then there is the
mammone phenomenon...grown, unmarried men who still live with Mama. This is a national phenomenon--our friend, Scott, told of a recent incident when he went into an empty store and the proprietor, rather than helping Scott, made a call,
"Mama, che fai per pranzo oggi?" Mama, what are you making for lunch today? Food and Mama, both high priorities!
So, we're living in a country where
la bella figura dominates public perceptions---how one looks and acts in public, the figure one cuts, the clothes one wears, the way one comports him/herself. We're living in a country where women are admired and appreciated physically--all women of all ages and sizes. We're living in a country where women are still expected to fulfill the traditional roles while holding down a job. We're living in a country where women have to fight for rights and recognition outside of the house and bedroom....
My Challenge: find a way to remain strong and independent and outspoken and untrodden-upon (I think I made up that word) while maintaining good relations with the locals.
Sometimes I want to shout and stomp my feet to make myself heard, but, Pat, not much
bella figura goin' on there. So I've had to find a way to maintain my ways of thinking and advance my agendas while maintaining
la bella figura and avoiding the "ugly American" label. Patience is the key--something of which I have very little--slowly, pleasantly moving forward. And, my husband/partner, who likes to do laundry and dishes, goes a long way towards ameliorating my irritation.
I offer coffee and croissants, make lists, and think
really hard about how to approach the plumber or mason or painter; Gary and I clarify our goals. Then Gary makes the calls (Italian men are much better man-to-man), describes the problems to them, supervises the jobs, and delivers the money when all is said and done. I offer coffee and croissants, smile, translate when necessary, and make sure everything is what we want. I'm playin' the system...have I sold out? Sometimes I think so, but, if I can get the work done, my ideas across, save money, and maintain good relations, everybody wins.
It's hard work curbing my tongue. I have to constantly remember the goal: Access, understand, assimilate the culture...LATER, I can change it.
I wonder, did Sophia sell out? She used her beauty, magnetism, and sexuality to catapult herself into international stardom. Did my mother sell out?? She held onto her essential self her whole life---even when she sublimated herself to my dad, she never let her core dissipate. Do Berlusconi's women sell out in order to attain power?? Or are they just smart?? Ummm, yeah. So women, members of the "weaker sex," have been playing the system for eons--and winning.
Italians love women.
Women are strong.
Therefore, Italians love strong women.
I knew it all along!!!
