The Things That Make My Life in Italy Interesting Part III

At times I grow rather frustrated with the Italian language. So, I decided to make a list of the pros and cons of not knowing the language that everybody else speaks, while at the same time having none of them know your language.

Cons:

• I never know what's going on. People might have told me but I don't know that either.
• It is possible for people to talk mean behind my back right in front of me (I highly doubt this is happening though).
• When anybody gives me instructions for something to do I usually have no idea what they are telling me.
• I talk to the animals a lot in English- everyone might think I'm saying weird things to the animals.
• I am relatively certain that everyone here thinks I'm an idiot. It's a common misconception with people who don't speak your language or who speak very little of it- because they can't communicate they are generally thought of as being more stupid.

Pros:

• If I don't end up doing what was intended then I can just say I didn't know what to do.
• This also works if I for some reason don't want to do what someone asks me to do- then I can just play it off as being confused.
• I'm getting dang good at charades.
• I can mutter in frustration and nobody knows what I'm saying (though I guess this also works as a con because they might think I have a horrible potty mouth when really I just say things like, "Shoot!" and "Dang it!" You know, typical Mormon swears).
• I talk to the animals a lot in English- nobody knows exactly what I'm saying to them so I can tell them all my secrets and really, nobody knows.
• My bedroom is a very thin wall away from the sales office. If I end up saying something in my sleep (I have been known to say very strange things in my sleep) and somebody hears then they won't know what I've said.

That's the whole list for now. I'll probably add more as time goes on if I think of them.

And, for a little bit of fun, here's a recent list of things I've learned since coming to Italy:

• There are few things more suddenly disturbing than having a fly fly straight into your ear.
• Italians don't seem to mind if you see them without pants on. I've now seen half of the members of this family without pants on and nobody seems to mind (don't worry, they're still wearing underwear).
• The song "Cotton Eye Joe" is super popular here. Several people have it as a ringtone on their phone and it was the main song on a wedding video I watched a couple days ago.
• If you have pathetically thin hair like I do then a space heater works rather well as a hair dryer.

Things that Make My Life in Italy Interesting Part III: No Problem!

Please correct me if I am wrong, but do English speakers use the term "No problem!" all that often? Okay, I understand if someone says thanks for something and you reply, "No prob," (though that does feel a bit 00's-ish... not sure how to say 2000's). It seems, though, that Italians are under the impression that we say this all the time. The one person here who speaks English says it in any and all circumstances. In all honesty it's getting a little bit annoying. This might be because I rarely hear English here and when I do the vast majority of the time it consists of simply these two words.

And I know this is a very short post but, well, yeah, it's a short post. Deal with it.

The Things That Make My Life in Italy Interesting Part II (Special Animal Edition!)

Polli

There are many animals on this farm. And when I say many, I mean a whole lot of animals. From my estimation there are nearly four hundred of them here. Here, I'll let you do the math (many of these numbers are approximations, by the way):

100 Donkeys

+50 sheep

+100 rabbits

+50 ducks

+60 chickens

+13 goats

+7 cows

+5 dogs

+8 cats

+1 horse

=394 animals

I think I've made my point- there are a ton of animals here.

A lot of these animals are baby animals. Lots of baby donkeys (the milk comes from their moms), baby ducks, baby chickens, baby rabbits, baby sheep, baby goats, and baby cats.

Most of these babies are afraid of people, though I am proud to say I have managed to get the two kittens to actually like me. That's beside the point. There is one baby animal here that loves people. Seriously, LOVES people. Her name is Polli.

Polli is a little white goat with little stubs for horns. Nearly every time she sees me she bah's excitedly and literally runs up to me, wagging her tail. That's right, apparently goats wag their tails. She loves to let me pet her around her horns. Sometimes, when she's inside the pen, she'll run alongside it with me until I get to the gate where she'll meet me, wagging her tail and nibbling on the zipper on my jacket.

Polli also has a little friend who's name I don't know. It's actually her twin, a little black goat that is less fond of people. It is my goal to get this thing to like me. I'll let you know how that goes.

Antonia

For the longest time I thought Antonia was Antonio. That means I thought she was a boy. Which is understandable- she's a rather thickly build, dark brown calf with little stub horns not unlike Polli's.

The other cows are all in permanent little restraints that keep them from moving very much except to eat and drink (occasionally one of them likes to suck water from the hose, and I let him because he seems pretty dang bored with life). Antonia, though, is free to roam, and with this freedom she likes to stay right there, with the other cows.

Her mom is also there, one of the two massive cows that actually gets to run around in a pen (and by run I mean stand there and move every few hours), so that probably helps with getting Antonia to stick around.

Ever since I arrived Antionia has been terrified of me. Every time I approached the cows she would bolt. Lately she's been getting a bit better, letting me actually walk past her without jumping up as if I just pulled out a shotgun.

Once upon a time I was wandering around the farm later in the evening and came upon Antonia in the area in front of the cow stalls. Rather than running away she stood her ground and, when I turned my back, I heard her approaching me quickly. I turned back around and she stopped, her stance threatening, her head held low. I turned my back to her again and heard her coming up to me, then I turned around and she stopped. It was when I finally decided to reach out my hand to pet her that she ran away. This experience made me wonder if I should be as afraid of Antonia as she is of me. However, that was a couple weeks ago, she's been pretty mild since then.

The Kittens

There are two kittens here. There were three but due to the insensitive playfulness of the dogs there are now only two. Shouldn't take a genius to figure out what happened there.

When I first got here these kittens absolutely hated me. If I so much as looked their way they would bolt into the little wood pile situated behind my trailer. That wood pile is where they live, and every day I went out there to get them used to me, my goal being to get them to allow me to hold them before I left Italy.

Long story short, one of them actually likes me now. The other one is a little less fond of me, I can pet it if I'm lucky but usually she (he?) runs away if I get too close.

And, as is usually the case, these kittens bring me a huge amount of happiness whenever I am around them, and so I felt a need to mention them in my little blog post.

Screacho

Screacho is one of the cats here. He's pretty good friends with Gina, the kitten's mom, and so he acts as a sort of really cool uncle to the kittens.

The first thing I was told about Screacho is that he's insane. This word describes him rather well. He will stalk and chase anything that moves and is smaller than a tennis ball. Sometimes he even stalks the kittens. Today I saw him cleaning one of the kittens and, when it wasn't looking, he suddenly grabbed it and started playing with it.

Only adding to his insanity are his eyes. I'm not sure what it is, perhaps a cataract, but one of his eyes has a big blurry spot in it that makes the whole eye look a bit off. The other eye is fine, but when you look at a cat with one good eye and one freaky eye well, I can understand why he's named Screacho and why one of the first Italian words I learned was "Pazzo."

When I first got here Screacho, like most the animals here, did not like me all that much. Now he seems to have grown rather fond of me. I even had a dream that I got to take him home with me.

The Dogs

There are five dogs here, all of them un-neutered males. Let me write about them each individually:

Toto

Toto is a small, wiry haired black dog that looks very similar to the ever so famous dog that shares his name. Everyone loves Toto. He's the only dog allowed inside. He sleeps right next to Mary and Dario's bedroom door and even gets canned dog food while the rest of the dogs have to eat dry food.

Simply said, Toto is freaking spoiled. Whenever I see him inside he stares up at me expectantly, wagging his tail, waiting for me to pet him. If I take too long to do this he'll roll down onto his back and wait for me to scratch his belly. But, no matter how spoiled he is, I really do like him. He's especially useful when I feel a bit out of place and need something to divert my attention and make me look less awkward. This usually happens when everyone is getting into an argument at dinner and I have no idea what's going on or if anyone is actually angry.

Birilo

I've told Birilo many times that he's my favorite dog. That's because he is. He's a white dog that looks a lot like a lab, but he has a bunch of spots beneath his fur, leading me to believe he's a dalmatian mix of some sort.

He's extremely sweet and is one of the few dogs who will drop whatever he is doing to come up to me if I call him. He and Toto are best buddies, they go almost everywhere together. Except inside, where Birilo isn't allowed. When this happens Birilo just lays outside on the welcome mat waiting for Toto to come back.

Also, he has a very strange obsession with the unspeakable areas of cats. Whenever there's a cat near his nose is right there in, well, that place. I'm not sure why but I applaud the cats for their patience with him.

Rach

Rach looks like a big, fluffy version of a German shepherd. He's as lovable as can be, especially when he sees that another dog is getting attention. If there aren't any other dogs around he often ignores me when I call. But the moment Birilo or Toto approach me to allow me to pet them then Rach runs up and forces himself between us, insistent that I pet him more than anyone else.

Rach was also one of the main perpetrators in the death of the aforementioned kitten. I've managed to forgive him for this because I've convinced myself that he didn't know what he was doing. He's just a big playful dog who doesn't understand his own power.

Zato

Zato is a mutt (like the rest of the dogs) with very long fur that is black, white, and brown- he looks a little like an Australian shepherd. He has all sorts of knots and tangles in his fur. These annoy me and I often try to pull them out. For anyone who has had someone try to pull out a tangle then you'll understand when I say that Zato doesn't really like when I do this. So I've had to accept that he will always have knots and tangles, and as long as he's okay with it, I guess I am too.

Zato absolutely loves Cristian. Whenever Cristian goes out to do work, Zato is there, waiting for his chance to help with anything. If the donkeys are being moved then Zato runs around, nipping them on the butts, occasionally looking to Cristian to make sure he's doing it right.

He's also the most laid back of the dogs. When cars approach the outside gate the other dogs run like crazy to go welcome whoever it is. Zato, though, will often stay back and watch in his quiet but noble manner.

Jerry

I don't know Jerry all that well because he's almost always tied up. I can understand why- the few times I have to venture within the bounds of his territory he jumps up on me. This usually happens when I have to water him, once every day. Sometimes he listens when I say "No, Jerry!" Other times he doesn't and I end up with big brown paw marks on my pants and/or jacket.

Jerry is a rather large dog that looks like a mixture between a Great Dane and a German shepherd, meaning he has the colors (brindle) and size of a Great Dane but the shape of a German shepherd.

Really, though, he's a rather nice dog that just wants attention, so I can't blame him too much for jumping on me.

The Things That Make My Life in Italy Interesting Part I

Alright, so here's my little post of the unspecified amount of time. Again it'll be a bit random because I've determined that this is sort of how my life is here. Seriously, I never have any idea what's going to happen- that sort of comes with not speaking the language. This one will come with cute little centered titles to introduce each new topic (the whole bullet point thing was a bit discombobulated for my taste).

My Italian Lessons

I listen to Italian lessons all day. First it was Michele Thomas, then Pimsleur, now an iPhone application that basically acts as audio flash cards that run continuously as I go about my work. Oftentimes I get a bit amused by these lessons, either because they are actually amusing or because I'm very bored... or very immature.

Yesterday out of the blue my audio flash cards said the word "nude." I broke into a fit of laughter and soon evolved into me laughing at the fact that I was laughing at the word "nude." Sometimes I can't believe I'm actually 23 years old.

As for the Pimsleur lessons, which I listened to over forty five hours of, they seem to be directed at a businessman who might have an extra marital affair in Italy. There were too many scenarios where a man was in his office or going out to dinner or basically anything with a "close friend" who happened to be voiced by a woman.

Italian Men

(what I know of them so far)

Italian men are different from American men. This shouldn't shock anyone. But let me divulge a bit more.

I've observed many times the Italian men here telling the women of the family that they are fat, sometimes going to the extent of grabbing their fat or patting their belly. I'm pretty sure that Dario even told me that I looked like I was gaining weight (I've been self conscious ever since...). They don't have the inhibitions American men do in that sense, and whether or not this is a good thing is for you to decide. I don't really know how I feel about it.

They all smoke. Okay, not all of them, but a huge majority. All of the men in the family I'm living with do. Every night after dinner they pull out the cigarettes and light up. It's not as frowned upon as it is in America, it's sort of just like having dessert, it's just what they do.

Many people told me before coming to Italy that the Italian men would love me, that my self esteem would sky rocket from all the men hitting on me and telling me that I'm beautiful. Thus far I have had more old Italian women than men tell me I'm beautiful, and there have been only two of them. I'm not saying this as a pity-me statement, just a statement of fact: zero men have told me I'm beautiful since I arrived in Italy. I'm not sure what's going on- Am I getting old? Have the Italians lost their touch? Has everyone been lying to me my whole life and am I really a disgusting hag?

My Bathroom Here

(I told you this would be random)

So I have a bathroom here. This is super convenient when compared to not having a bathroom. This bathroom has a few interesting quirks and, unlike someone on whom you have a crush, these quirks do not make it more appealing. They are just plain annoying.

The toilet makes noises. And when I say noises, I mean LOUD noises that basically shake the entire little trailer that I live in. These noises usually occur right after I've used the toilet, or sometimes just completely randomly. Like a deep, bellowing horn that sounds for about one second before it ends abruptly.

The shower leaks all over the floor. I can't figure out how either. I take my shower and when I get out there's water all over the floor. I've tried watching during my shower, peaking out every minute or so to see where the water is coming from, but whenever I do this the shower decides that it just doesn't feel like leaking today. Maybe one day before I leave I will determine where all of the water is coming from. I sincerely hope it has nothing to do with the toilet.

Without fail there are always at least half a dozen bugs in the bathroom. Usually flies and these things: http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palomena_prasina. I hate bugs. And speaking of bugs...

Flies

There are a buttload of flies here. I tried to find a less offensive synonym for "buttload" but Thesaurus.com wouldn't give me any, and nothing else seems to truly capture the feeling of just how many flies there are here. I'm not exaggerating when I say I've vacuumed up hundreds of flies in the course of one day. Piles of them form in the windowsills. There are usually ten or so in my bedroom when I come back from dinner.

I think it's mating season. I gathered this from having watched several flies in what appears to my Biologically trained eyes to be a mating position. This also seems like a good explanation for the sickening plethora of flies that abound here. I've also been told that October is the worst month for flies in this climate. I really hope this is true because if there is a month worse than this then, well, that sucks really bad.

Also, did anyone else know that flies poop? I know, it seems obvious. Pooping is, after all, a fact of life. It sort of just comes with the whole eating deal. But I think I thought that with such short life spans flies just sort of held it in. This isn't true, unfortunately. Flies poop every five to six minutes. Their poop appears as little brown dots. I can't tell you how many little brown dots I've cleaned up since I came here. I think it's nearing infinite (and for all of you people who would tell me that's impossible, you have no idea what I've been through).

I think that's basically it for now. I hope to include pictures soon but I haven't received my camera cord yet (in a rather silly act of forgetfulness I left it at home). And... I'm not sure how to conclude this. This seems good enough.