Though I’ve been in Italy a year, once in a while little things creep up that remind me that I’m not in the U.S.  Things we take for granted in our home country will often be much more noticeable in our new country and no matter how long we live in a place, for better or for worse, there’s always some adapting to do.

Take running errands.

In Italy, if I go out to run three errands and get just one done, I feel lucky.  Here we are limited by several things, particularly lunch.  Stores, banks, post offices, close at lunchtime – in some towns here in the south that can mean from 1pm to about 5 or 5:30pm.  I’m not kidding.   It’s a ghost town for three to four hours.  If I want to get anything done, I either rush in the morning to get it done (and early or I risk waiting in line to be sent away at lunch time), or I wait until 5:30 and get caught in the after work crowd.  This means, one errand at a time, per day.  Unless it’s Sunday when not even the birds come out to sing.

It’s a little different than in a major city in the U.S. – If I need to get something done, and I don’t manage to leave the house until 1, no big deal. Everybody’s open.  It’s Sunday?  Not a problem, you’ll always find someone open, with the exception of the post office.  Midnight and you’re out of toilet paper?  Sure, okay – the grocery store a few blocks down is open all night.  Alas, for me, those days are over.

How do I cope with it?  Well, I don’t have much choice so I just deal with it. If I have three errands, I plan for just one.  When I accomplish it, I celebrate.  A big plus to this cultural difference is that when I have lunch plans with a friend, I can take as long as I’d like.

I could be romantic and say “I’ve slowed down, thanks to this pace of life” as I dreamily look off into the distance, thinking about the wild chicory I bought from the old man on the corner with a gleam in his eye.  As true as that may be on one hand, let’s be honest: there are times when instead I’m wringing my hands and pulling my hair, even weeping, wondering why I can’t get the simplest thing done in a normal way. Even if the chicory is good.

What’s cultural difference have you noticed the most in your new home?

Tina Ferrari is a tango dancer, translator and writer currently based in Lecce, Italy. She writes at AffordableCallingCards.net as well as on her own blog, Tina Tangos. Comments are always welcome!

By Kristi Remick

Last April I wrote about blazing a trail as a Trailing Spouse -  tips designed to help the trailer find fulfillment and happiness.  What I didn’t take into account when writing this particular blog was that my Expat Self-Esteem (ESE) was at an all time high.  I thought I conquered the Trailing Spouse Blues but unfortunately more bad days, weeks and months were to be had.

This past month was pretty challenging.  I had scored a job interview and was called back for a second.  I was feeling hopeful that I would finally join the ranks of the employed. I started daydreaming about living in the real world again, making money and feeling like a productive member of society.  When I heard that I was passed on for the job, it sent me spinning towards dark places and my ESE plummeted to an all time low. This dark place made me feel like no matter how busy I stayed as a Trailing Spouse or how much I reinvented myself, it was fake and it was lonely.  How did I crawl out of this cave of despair?  In addition to a disgusting over-consumption of chocolate and Nacho Cheese Bugles, I did the following:

1. I let it out – I cried like a little girl, pounded my fists, threw a tantrum or two and sucked my thumb (but didn’t wet my pants while trying to do a hula dance).  A good cry sometimes cleans you out.  It is like a colonoscopy for the soul.  The trick is to actually let it out and move on.  Let’s be serious here, no one finds puffy eyes attractive.

2. I set new goals – After talking with my husband, I realized I hadn’t accomplished what I intended to with my gift of time.  I hadn’t volunteered like I said I would and I hadn’t mastered German.  It was time to be pro-active again and do what I said I would a year ago.

3. I got out of the house/apartment/flat/cave – Loneliness has probably been the number one challenge for me.  I do a great job of staying busy but I stay busy by myself.  This week I decided to get up, feed my mutts, go straight to the gym and study German at a nearby coffee shop.  This does two things: Eliminates distractions (TV, Internet, Naps, etc) and made me feel like I was part of society.

4. I read other people’s experiences/tips – My husband is the greatest.  He has the wisdom of a 5,000 year old sorcerer (the kind that have really long white beards) and does his best to boost me up when I am down.  The problem is, he has never been in my shoes.  I really like reading about people like me and what they have done to be successful.  Fellow bloggers can be a great source of comfort and inspiration. Knowing you aren’t alone out there can sometimes bring you renewed mental energy.

Blazing a trail is not the end to one’s journey as an Expat. Sometimes a tree falls over blocking your way or a horse did its business right in the middle of your path. Finding ways to clear the branches and horse poo is not always easy.  I wish I could say that there is this finite moment in time when a Trailing Spouse is happy all of the time.  I am afraid that isn’t the case but there are ways to pick yourself up.  Any other tips from fellow trailers?

When I am not busy stuffing my face with chocolate, you can find me over at From A to Z blogging about my life in Zurich Switzerland.

By: Cherrye Moore

I’ve written a great deal over the last four years about my adorable-yet, somewhat food-obsessed, Calabrese father-in-law. It seems no matter how much he makes-and piles into my plate-or how much I finish … he’s just never satisfied.

He’s blamed me for my husband’s decline (his words, not mine) in appetite and tries to urge the fork forward with promises of delicious bites of Italian delicacies.

So, really … I should have this coming.

A few weeks ago, we were at our daily lunch meet-up-yes, he cooks for us every day-and I noticed he had a special new glass, fully decorated and colored with sparkling, flying Winks fairies. I just couldn’t resist.

“Nice glass, Nino.” I tell him with a grin, wondering if he realizes his glass is the envy of every 12-year-old girl on the street. “Where’d you get it?”

“Hrmph!” He cut his eyes at me, perhaps sensing my glee.

Not willing to let it go, I persisted.

“But it is so cute,” I told him. “I’m jealous. I want my very own glass, too.”

He ignored my last remark, my husband called me a mafiosa and we finished our meal.

A couple of days later, that conversation forgotten by almost everyone, he showed up with a surprise.

I was standing at the door to our bed and breakfast when he grunted and pushed a small, Nutella-filled glass in my hands.

“There you go,” he told me.

“You eat the Nutella … you get your own glass. Then,” he said pointing to the colored blue and white decoration on the glass, “you will be a champion!”

I looked down and noticed that yes, it was indeed a glass of champions, decorated with bright blue and white drawings in anticipation of the 2010 World Cup Soccer match that Italy bombed.

I laughed. Loudly.

“Thank you,” I told him.

He shook his head at me. “Tisk. You eat all of the Nutella first. Then, you you’ll have your own glass … and then you can say thank you.”

I don’t know why it should surprise me that he jumped at the chance to have me independently eat 200 grams of soft, creamy, chocolate and hazelnut Nutella, but that little present kinda made my day. Yes, two weeks have passed and the would-be world champs are still sitting in my cupboard, 2/3 full of their creamy deliciousness.

But, I’m working on it.

Until then, I thought about sneaking his glass when he wasn’t looking, but there is just something about my 78-year-old father-in-law, drinking his daily Pepsi in that pink and orange fairy glass, that I just can’t destroy.

So, I guess I’ll have to wait … and really, what better excuse is there for finishing off your very own jar of world champion Nutella?

Cherrye Moore is an American freelance writer and Calabria group tour consultant living in southern Italy. You can read more about living and traveling in Calabria at her site, My Bella Vita or visit her in person at her B&B in Catanzaro, Italy.

Photo: Blondie and Brownie

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by Tina Ferrari

photo © 2010 by Sergio Stellato

Though I speak the local language and have no problem adapting to any given culture and finding my niche, at times I wonder if the locals really “get” me.  Here are my top 3 things I wish people in my adopted country, Italy, would understand about me.

This isn’t my first language.  Some of my friends here must think I’m obsessive compulsive in the way that I repeat myself so many times in Italian.  It’s just that I feel paranoid at times that I haven’t said something right (and sometimes it really is the case and they think I’ve said something totally different) so I tend to say the same thing in five different ways to make sure I said it right so they understand.  I also find that I don’t understand what people say if they talk with their mouths full of food (something I notice a lot here).  I’m always making people finish chewing first, not because I’m fussy about manners, but because I simply would like to understand what they’re saying!

It’s not as easy for me as it is for them.  Okay, nobody said life in Italy was that easy for anyone.  But there are some things that are a little harder for those of us who weren’t born here and had to learn the language from scratch.  Take just about any bureaucratic process at all, such as residency, and they’ll say, “Oh, easy! Just go here, say this, and there you have it!”  Either they’re kidding themselves or they don’t realize that those of use who don’t already have a paper trail in Italy have a little more work cut out for us.

I don’t know that many people because I am not from here.  I have a few really awesome Italian friends who have gone out of their way to get to know me and provide some great company.  But a lot of times I wonder if people really understand that I don’t really know that many people.  A lot of folks, particularly in a small town like Lecce, have the friends they grew up with and run in the same circles they’ve run in for a while now.  They have their dinner parties, etc.,  and probably assume that I already have plans with my group of friends.  Thing is, I don’t have a group of friends yet.  While I do have a number of priceless friends Italy, it will be a while before I have a “group”  that I run with, as I’m not settled yet.  This makes for nights at home alone – which isn’t so bad, considering it’s a chance to get work done and catch up with friends and family.  Plus, there is tango – the perfect excuse to dress up and get out  of the house!

What do you wish locals understood about you in your adopted country?

Tina Ferrari is a tango dancer, translator and writer currently based in Lecce, Italy. She writes atAffordableCallingCards.net as well as on her own blog,Tina Tangos. Comments are always welcome!

By Kristi Remick

Milestones are identifiable points in our lives that represent something epic: college graduation day, the birth of  a child, the first time one lays eyes on Johnny Depp, etc.  For me, August 19th marked a new one – I survived one full year as an Expat.  Since I prefer to sit back and let change seek me out like a heat-seeking missile, no one was more surprised than me when I told me husband “let’s do it…let’s live out our dream and move to Europe”.  Who was this person?  Why in the world would I say this phrase if I knew it would only be followed by months of hand wringing, hours spent on the internet searching for affirmations and the very real possibility I would require psychotropic drugs at some point during the planning process?

While the hand wringing resulted in premature osteoarthritis of my right index finger and the hours spent on the internet left me with more questions than answers, I knew I had to do it.   I had to sell the house that I loved, leave my career behind and say goodbye to friends and family.  The planning process was only the beginning of my emotional journey and I knew the real test would come when we actually set foot in Zurich.  As a result, I dusted off the old mental straitjacket and packed it along side all of my other jackets: the “get a grip”  jacket, the “holy crap, am I really doing this? ” jacket and of course my rain jacket…no, a real rain jacket.  It rains a lot here.

I wish I could lie to you and say I didn’t need my straitjacket the first year in Zurich.  I know a lot of you who read these Expat blogs are considering a move abroad and if you are anything like me, you are only looking for butterfly and lollipop laced stories of success.  Living in a new country is amazing but the fact of the matter is, you will be presented with unique challenges that will test your resolve. The white walls in your flat may start to dimple and resemble padded walls.  The straitjacket may get so tight it suffocates you but then something clicks…it is like Houdini himself unbuckled the first buckle for you and whispered “see, it isn’t so bad…just bend the strap back and release the tension…now go get ‘em tiger”.

It took about a year but I finally unbuckled the last buckle on my straitjacket.  As I fold it up in preparation to store it, I am overcome with immense gratitude.  Gratitude that my straitjacket kept me firmly in place and incapable of running away.

When I am not busy stuffing my face with chocolate, you can find me over at From A to Z blogging about my life in Zurich Switzerland.

By: Cherrye Moore

I was visiting good friends last summer in Texas-we were sitting at one of our favorite Mexican cantinas, sipping on frozen lime margaritas, talking about the good ‘ole days and catching up on the last few years.

“I just love Italy,” one of my peppy ex-Sorority sisters gushed. “I could soooo see myself living there.”

I smiled as she gazed dreamily out the window, no doubt imagining herself strolling to the weekly market each Monday, sipping on stout Italian wine in the evenings, spending her days-riding on a Gondola or dining outside the Colosseum. She exhaled, “It’s just such a beautiful country.”

Not wanting to burst her idealized bubble of the life I’m leading, I politely agreed-because it is true, Italy is a beautiful country-and kept quiet. But secretly I wondered … could she really live here?

As my southern Italian counterpart pointed out last week, you can’t uproot your life back home and replant that baby here in Italy. It is a whole new country world and while we love it here, we’ve definitely learned to live without some of the luxuries of our American lifestyles.

Here are three things I’ve learned to love less here in Calabria.

1. Variety

You often hear people say, “Italians love food,” when in fact, what they mean is, “Italians love Italian food.” Especially here in Calabria, diversity, restaurant variety-heck, even a foreign food shelf-are had to come by. I’ve learned to live with this by importing my must-haves, like Velveeta cheese and Starbuck’s vanilla syrup, kicking up my personal non-Italian food recipe list and creating variety in the Italian food we eat and love.

2. Instant Access

One of the hardest things for me to get used to-if one could say I’ve gotten used to it-is learning to live without the instant access we are accustomed to in the US. There are no 24-hour pharmacies-actually, even finding an open pharmacy on Saturday or Sunday is a challenge, customer service calls regularly go un-answered-even during “working” hours and paperwork can take years to get approved.

Still, I believe I can learn something from these would-be frustrating experiences-and that, my friends, is patience. Italy has taught me patience in a way I never could have learned in the United States … and for that, I’m thankful.

3. The Latest Greatest

No doubt if I lived in the US, I’d be on the i(insert latest gadget here) bandwagon. Being in southern Italy, far from the peer pressure that comes with having an office job and well-paid friends, I’m sheltered, in a way, from needing to have the latest, greatest gadget. Many expats in Italy have other priorities and luckily, keeping up with Rossis, isn’t one of them.

Tina and I have weighed in-now it is your turn. What have you learned to live without in your expat adventures?

Cherrye Moore is an American freelance writer and Calabria tour consultant living in southern Italy. You can read more about living and traveling in Calabria at her site, My Bella Vita or visit her in person at her B&B in Catanzaro, Italy.

Photos: CarbonNYC and Ivyfield via Flickr

By: Cherrye Moore

Last week I wrote a post at my site, My Bella Vita, that was a spin-off of a post written here at ACC by my fellow expat-in-southern-Italy and travel blogging friend, Tina of Tina Tangos. My post, A Few Things to Love About Southern Italy caused quite a stir when it was posted on Facebook because, gosh darn it-three things to love just ain’t enough.

… or so they said.

Still, it is important to note that there are more than munchies in Italy’s Mezzogiorno. With that in mind, here are three southern Italy traditions I’ve grown to love!

1. Eating on Schedule

Yes, I said there are more than munchies, but that doesn’t mean food isn’t an integral part of our lives. Here in Calabria, we live (and die?) by our mealtime schedule. We have breakfast, lunch and dinner more or less at the same time every day-a routine I mourn for when stateside meals have me dashing through a Chic-Fil-A or filling up on frappuccinos.

Why is this important? I eat less and feel more satisfied here in Italy than I do when I’m in the states.

2. Walking is Expected

My husband was shocked the first time he visited me in Texas and noticed that I drove around a parking lot three times looking for a suitable spot.

“You just passed a row of empty places,” he told me.

“Yea,” I told him, oblivious to his intention. “But they are so far.”

“Cherrye,” he told me. “We are young … it’s not raining … we can walk.”

It seems obvious now, but willingness to walk is a cultural thing-one I’m glad I picked up on and have adapted into my life … even back home.

Just last Christmas, my mom, husband and I were rushing to finish our lists. We told Mom to drop us off on the street-because we could each walk where we needed to go quicker than we could battle pre-Christmas Eve traffic. She did. And yes, people looked at us strangely, but I’d gone to two stores and my husband had shopped in one in the same amount of time it took my mom to get through traffic and find a parking spot.

Why is this important? In addition to the obvious health benefits of walking , I feel stronger and have more energy when I walk often.

3. Finish up with Fruit

Ok, so maybe it *is* all about the food, but I love that we finish off every lunch and dinner with a serving of fresh fruit. Often this fruit is from our garden-oranges and mandarins in winter months, plums and figs in the summer, but sometimes we supplement with watermelon, cantaloupe, peaches, strawberries and cherries. Delizioso!

Why is this important? I’ve found eating fruit after each meal helps me stay full longer and since I’m on a schedule, it ensures I get enough fresh fruit each day.

Wbat are some of your favorite traditions, food-related or not, in your new country?

Cherrye Moore is an American freelance writer and Calabria tour consultant living in southern Italy. You can read more about living and traveling in Calabria at her site, My Bella Vita or visit her in person at her B&B in Catanzaro, Italy.

Photo: flickr, by PhotoLab XL

By Kristi Remick

My Ruby Slippers are flat and comfortable.

Who can forget the first time they saw Dorothy’s lip quiver when she uttered “There’s no place like home” and who didn’t celebrate when she clicked her heels three times, while donning ruby slippers, and made it back to Kansas?  In my past life, on the highways of Atlanta, I wished for ruby slippers on more than one occasion as I found myself “melting” in the abyss of Atlanta Traffic (yes, it gets caps so you can feel its evilness).

It is now just under two weeks until my first trip back to Atlanta and I started thinking about Dorothy.  She was so certain that Kansas was her home, even after being surrounded by incredible landscapes, yellow brick roads, talking lions and adorable munchkins.  What did Kansas have on munchkins?

At this point in my journey, Atlanta is not my Kansas.  I can’t say with certainty that I know where my home is and for me, the title fits me just as perfectly as it does Dorothy.  My interpretation is a bit more literal though because for me, there is really NO place like home.

Was I sad realizing this?  Not really, but I have to say it feels weird.  Does this phenomenon happen to all Expats?  I don’t think so as I have met quite a number of Expat folks that know where and sometimes even when they are going back to a certain somewhere.  Does this feeling happen to other people besides Expats?  Absolutely.  I remember when I first moved to Atlanta and felt like a stinky fish out of water.  I had never felt so out of  place before in my life, but that may have had more to do with me  leaving the comforts of college life and entering the real world.

So what about me now and what about Zurich?  Can I call Zurich “home” yet?  I wish I could and it isn’t for lack of  trying or wanting to…I just can’t yet.  Zurich is wonderful and the city has done nothing wrong to me (except ruin me when it comes to how clean I view other cities going forward). There are a lot of unknowns right now and until I have a few more “knowns”, I will probably not be able to call any place my home.  So until then, the red flip flops above will remain empty.

A few notes about the red flip flops because inquiring minds want to know:

1. I really liked how I ended my blog…you know, with the whole flip flop empty thing.  It really got my point across.  Originally though, I omitted my feet because they haven’t seen a pedicure in over 11 months.  I would have lost any and all readers I have accrued if my feet were in the flops.

2. I, *gasp*, do not own red pumps and/or red high heeled shoes.  In Zurich, I am probably in the female minority with this admission.

When I am not busy stuffing my face with chocolate, you can find me over at From A to Z blogging about my life in Zurich Switzerland.

by Tina Ferrari

Almost lunchtime in southern Italy

I have had several American visitors over the past couple of months and have had a chance to hear firsthand what impressions people have when they visit – particularly when it comes to food.  I was lucky enough to grow up with a more Mediterranean eating style, but having others visit who are not used to it has opened my eyes to three things that are very important here in the culture, but perhaps strange for other people:

The importance of eating. If one thing is true about Italians, eating is very important for them.  Any time I go anywhere with a group to any sort of occasion, it either surrounds food, or by lunchtime (1 pm) or dinnertime (about 9 or 10 pm here in Puglia) we look at our watches, drop what we’re doing and dedicate ourselves to the meal – and if we’re at home this includes using a table cloth and setting the table properly.  This shocks (and pleases) my American visitors every time – in the American culture, sometimes you either grab something quick to eat at the computer while you’re working, or you are so busy you forget your mealtimes.  I can’t imagine most people I know here forgetting a mealtime, ever.  And considering how good the food is, I can’t blame them!

The importance of courses. The main observation my friends make when they visit is, “Gosh, they really eat a lot here!  It’s too much food!”  I had to think about this, because it sounded rather strange.  Here in southern Italy I find the portions are perfectly reasonable compared to those in the U.S.  But I think people who visit may feel so full after a meal because they are not used to taking their time and eating one course at a time.  It’s really not *that* much food, it’s just separated into courses and one thing is eaten at a time. That does tend to fill you up faster.  I also tend to believe that the ingredients are so whole and unadulterated down here that food seems a lot more filling, so even though you’re eating less, you’re filling yourself up with all kinds of great nutrients, instead of eating a lot of empty calories.  Just a thought.  Have no fear though – if lunch is big, dinner is small, and vice versa.

The importance of generosity. Of course, if you are a guest in a Mediterranean home, the whole “moderation” thing goes out the window. The people here love to host and love to be generous with what they have.  It’s a favorite thing of mine about living here – people have no problem being generous, be it food or a ride or the washing machine (yes, I borrow friends’ washing machines at the moment).  My secret, in case you plan to visit and are a guest in someone’s home, is eat slowly and understand that nobody is trying to wreck your diet, they just want to embrace you and make you feel welcome.  And no, we don’t eat like that every day, only when we have special guests.  It’s all about you.  It’s overwhelming if you’re not accustomed to such meals that can last quite a while, but that’s what grappa and espresso are for at the end of the meal.   Buon appetito!

Tina Ferrari is a tango dancer, translator and writer currently based in Lecce, Italy. She writes at AffordableCallingCards.net as well as on her own blog, Tina Tangos. Comments are always welcome!

By: Cherrye Moore

Last week I wrote about the things I always carry with me from the US when I return to Italy. But truth be told, there are some pretty great things I’d miss from Italy, if we lived in the US. In fact, my husband and I talk about this pretty often, especially at times like this when I’m stocking up on American deodorant and taco sauce.

Here are the top things we’d miss about Italy if we moved to the US.

Pizza
I love American pizza, really, I do, but no matter what marketing ploy Pizza Hut might employ, Italian-style pizza they’ll never be.

Meat, Cheese, Fruit and Veggies
Yes, this is a big category, but we would really miss the meat, cheese, fresh fruit and veggies we have here in southern Italy. (In all honesty, the “meat” part was added by my husband, because he can’t imagine a life without soppressata, homemade sausage or any of the delicious cold cuts he grew up with.)

Gelato
Lest you think we are overly healthy, we’d also miss the homemade gelato we have here in Calabria. Ice cream is one thing, gelato is another and while I do love me some Blue Bell, I’d really miss Marrons Glaces here in Catanzaro.

Passeggiata
There is no Italian habit I love more than the evening passeggiata and even though I know we could do this if we lived outside Italy, I’m not sure we would. And really, part of the fun of the passeggiata is bumping into your neighbors and friends and if they’re not outside for their evening stroll, would it really be the same?

Come back next week to see the top things we’d pack and carry with us, customs-permitting, if we lived outside of Italy.

Are you an expat in Italy? What would you miss if you had to leave?

Cherrye Moore is a freelance writer and travel consultant living in Calabria, Italy. She can organize a group Calabria tour or help you plan a custom itinerary for your family from her website, My Bella Vita.

Photo: Cherrye Moore, My Bella Vita