THE STIGMA OF BEING "FAT" IN ITALY

I am going out to an outlet mall with an American friend today. She's VERY overweight and I feel bad for her because I know she'll not be able to find anything for herself. I am a US size 8-10, UK 12-14 and I'm considered FAT here. I have been told to go to the "large size" clothing stores before. How nice.

I've been asked to my face "How do you like being so fat?"

When I weighed 140lbs (something like 64kg) I mentioned that I had gained over 50lbs with my first preganacy (which had been 9 years prior) and the woman at the spa looked at me and shook her head saying "Yes, I can tell." WTF? I can tell WHAT? If she thought I was carrying around 50+ pounds at the time then in her mind I should have weighed less than 90lbs!!!! And I'm 5'7"....(169cm).

I have noticed that people here are getting bigger. A lot bigger. They blame it on the arrival of McDonald's and a few Burger Kings in their country. I blame it on the fact that they can't just keep driving past these McDs and BKs. No one is forcing them to eat there. But Italians LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to blame others for their problems, and if the US is involved in any way, well, it's a perfect scenario.

The Italians have a love/hate relationship with the US. They all want to live in America, but they also blame Americans for every wrong in this world. They wear Nike and eat McDs while rioting in the streets against capitalism. They accuse Americans of being fat and lazy, yet, while there is an over-abundance of overweight (and obese) people in the US, there are also more gyms and people who are fit.

For an Italian, skinny = fit. No muscle tone (OMG especially not for a woman!) and it's difficult to find a man with good definition. They are all so anorexic (they GUYS!) and most young people try to live off of cigarettes and coffee to stay slim. There is nothing less appealing than a skinny (emaciated) Italian guy in painted on pink jeans and a deep V-neck t-shirt with a smoke in his hand, which looks to heavy for him to lift to his mouth.

I do not propose people get fat. I propose fitness. I've recently lost a lot of weight (and put on a couple of pounds over the winter, but I'll work it off). People ask me (men AND women) how I did it. "Do you eat?" "Did you take a pill?" "Did you go to a diet doctor?"

And they look almost appalled when I say I quit drinking, I quit smoking, I cut calories and I started working out. "WHAT??? What does that even mean? That must not be healthy. You need to swallow fiber pills that inflate in your stomach so you feel full !" (I saw these in the pharmacy for sale, and I thought they were boob implants.)

"You need to get a balloon inserted into your stomach with a tube sticking out of your nose so you can give yourself doses of small quantities of food (liquids pumped into your stomach through your nose to keep you feeling full...it's called NEC in Italia, which is an artificial nutrition sent through the nose, Ketogenic Enteric Nutrition, in English), while you still smoke. Don't you know that exercise will HARM you? Do you want to look like a man???"

I am not shitting you. This is Italian mentality.

THE CITY PARK

Montichiari has a beautiful park...well, several, but the one in the center of town is the best. It's got a great play area for the kids, lots of green lawns on rolling hills, and a little cafè hut in the middle.

I went with the dog today at noon, and there was not ONE SINGLE ITALIAN in the park. The foreigners have taken it over, but I'm not saying that in a bad way. They bring their children to play, and they sit and visit on the grass. They don't cause disturbances or anything, for the most part. If it's just the moms it's pretty much ok.

But the Italians have silently chosen to stay away, as to not mingle with these people they don't want in their town. So the more foreigners come, the more the Italians stay away.

The problem starts in the evening when the cafè turns into a bar and alcohol is served, and the husbands of the moms who were at the park earlier with their kids come and start drinking. It's mainly the Romanians, Russians and Albanians who drink. But I see more and more Northern Africans (Tunisians, Moroccans and Algerians) who are getting drunk. I've not noticed any Black Africans or Pakistani drinking there.

But it turns into an atmosphere that's uncomfortable.

Today while I was sitting on the wall in the sun, three 14 year old Albanian girls came up to me and asked if I had a cigarette. I told them no, that I don't smoke. And the walked away mimicking me saying "Woo hoo, I don't smoke." Seriously? I wanted to grab them and put my 41 year old face in theirs and say "Guess what? I'm only 22. I smoked since I was 14 and this is how I look now."

But then I thought, "Who the FUCK really cares? I care about a lot, sometimes way TOO much, but this? This I don't care about." Let them smoke, let them pretend to be cool and attractive with their cigarettes at 14. THAT is not my problem.

I've just had it with this place. Italians bitch and moan because of all the non-Italians in their country, yet the pseudo-communist party continues letting them come. Then the pseudo-commies go out in the streets and riot because there's no work. Well, DUH, you just gave your jobs away, dumbshits. Keep letting people who WANT to work come in and you won't have a job.  You cannot have it all.

And they let them (us---I'm not Italian, either) come to live here, but they won't allow any type of integration, as seen by the shunning of a really nice park. I've always taken my daughter there to play. I think it's good for her to play with kids from other countries, but they form groups based on where they come from and they can be really mean to the little half American, half Italian kid.

So now we avoid it, too.

If you want the definition of conundrum, the above explains it pretty well.

What TAXES mean to an Italian...

In the US if you work you are required to pay income taxes. Just as it is in most parts of the world, even here. Well, here's where the problem lies...Italians are the sneakiest bastards alive. They will let their whole economy collapse before they take on the responsibility of paying income tax. Not all, but the majority.

My husband works for the Italian military. His income is 1/3 of what a US military member of the same rank makes; yes, a THIRD. And my husband pays over 40% of his income in TAXES. It is immediately deducted from his pay, as is done for any State (national) employee. He has no choice. Almost half his money earned goes right back to the government.

Here's the kicker: if you are a private business owner--plumber, carpenter, electrician---you are supposed to pay income tax but most don't. They charge the client less is the client pays in cash. So there are no records of any transaction, and the money goes into their bank account. Some of these private business owners make 4 times what my husband earns, yet on their taxes claim only a quarter of what he earns, so they pay the minimum of tax income. Yet they drive Ferraris and Porsches, while my husband, who works an average of 11 hours a day, drives a piece of shit and I have a minivan, because that's all we can afford.

If you have work done the receipt you need to ask for is called the "fattura". If you get this fattura, you have to pay 21% sales tax on top of the total that was estimated for the work. So, for instance, I had my front door refinished and a small set of doors built for the storage area in the loft. The guy didn't give me the fattura (receipt). He just said "OK, that'll be 580 euros." Well, even though I can't really afford it, I REFUSE to support their way of (mafia) life. So I said I want the receipt. His eyes got big and he said "I don't think you understand. that means you have to add 21% to the price. You don't want to pay that."

Now he wasn't concerned about ME. Her was concerned about his ass. If he gives me the fattura, it's numbered and it has to be turned into the Italian IRS at the end of the month and HE has to pay taxes on it.

Well, that just pissed me off and I told him that I didn't care how uch it was, I'd pay it. I got out the calculator and summed it up (he didn't even know how to fill out the receipt--this tells you how often he does this) and I ended up paying 720 euros, for what was, in the end, shitty work. I had to re-sand the little doors in the loft and repaint them myself!

Did we have the extra money? No. Did that put us in a difficult position that month? Yes. But I did what is right, and I will always do what is right. I will not stoop to the level of these mafia-influenced pieces of shit just so they can buy a house with a swimming pool when I don't even get air conditioning.

And you may be wondering why the Italian IRS isn't all up in their shit? Well, they can't get their heads out of their own asses long enough to be worried about it. And there is so much corruption in government, they don't care about the average citizen here.

                                   (Translation: War against Tax Evasion)

Recently Italy was condemned by the rest of the EU for the state of financial affairs in the country. But the Italians just sat around scratching their heads (and hair plugs--Berlusconi) and couldn't figure out what to do. This is a country hat has had a history of everyone doing everything for them, they can't do for themselves. If Italy is kicked out of the EU, good. It would suck for the FEW honest people, but it probably would have NO effect on the minds of the majority here.

Italians are killing themselves, making their country a breeding ground for corruption and enticing thugs and criminals from other parts of the world (i.e. Eastern Europe--Albania, Moldavia, Romenia) and then they just stand around and BITCH about it because as I've always said, the Italian national motto should be:

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT."

RAINING

It's raining here. This place is depressing enough without rain. Not even a good ol' thunderstorm like we would get in Texas. I miss thunderstorms.

This is just pissy, cold rain. And when it starts, it's relentless. And of course, every time the stupid dog goes out, I have to wash her feet. And the floor.

 

So, a day to stay indoors and I guess, work on the attic. Which is way too dark when there's no sun and when my husband doesn't replace light bulbs. I know I can replace them, but since I do most everything else around here, I'd think that replacing burnt out bulbs would be ok to expect from him.

It's good that we didn't have this weather yesterday for Carnevale.

Carnevale

My husband took our daughter with friends to celebrate. I dressed her as a hippie / flower child. I put together a bunch of cheap jewellery and clothes from the Chinese shops (what would we do without them at Carnevale time?) and painted her face a bit.

Here they do parades and parties for Carnevale on Sunday, and Mardi Gras / Fat Tuesday / Martedì Grasso is not really celebrated. School's out, and they have what's called the "ponte" or bridge, meaning it's useless to send kids to school on Monday of they'll be off on Tuesday.

So it's a 4 (well, 3 and a half, day weekend -- kids go to school here on Saturday.)

School is Mon through Sat, 7:55 to 1:00. That's my daughter's school, considered private by those who don't attend, and those who send their kids their, but it's actually "paritaria", meaning open to anyone who can pay. So, technically not private in the real sense of the word.

Other schools, state schools, in this area also have Mon thru Sat, but with slight variations of time, very slight.

If I'm not mistaken, towards Rome many schools have abolished the Saturdays and make the weekday school day a bit longer.

So, today my husband took our daughter to celebrate Carnevale in the town piazza. There were simple floats and lots of confetti (which is called "coriandoli" here as "confetti" are sugared almonds!).

The best to see would be Carnevale in Venezia or Viareggio where they REALLY go all out. The pic I'm posting is from yesterday in the city of Brescia, nearby. The smaller towns gear the festival more towards the kids, while in Venezia and Viareggio they're probably the traditional festivals. I'll have to check them out some time.

LIFE'S BEEN HECTIC...NOTHING NEW

There was 4.2 earthquake last night in the area. I was asleep so didn't feel it but my daughter called me to ask if I had. She was closer to the epicentre. I don't even know if it was felt where I am.

I've been busting my ass to paint the house. I've got a townhouse, as I guess it would be called in the US. Three floors with a basement garage. With homes attached on both sides. It's large by Italian standards, tiny by US standards, approximately 1,722 square feet (160 m2). I finished removing all the varnish from the IKEA kitchen, sanding it, and repainting it in funky green and turquoise. I have bright red tiled walls, and by throwing in red accents around the kitchen, it works in a 1950s-esque pop art way.

I decided to lighten up the whole house. I want to have a Miami beach feel --I live in a depressing miasma of fog most of the year -- and I had previously decorated with a Texas theme.When we had the house built 6, 7 years ago, I had them paint the walls a neutral taupe, and we have one wall and column that are bare stone, so it tied in well. I had pictures and accents that reflect my Texan love.

But I realized, that with the kitchen being brighter, I needed to brighten up the rest of the area. I want to feel as if I'm on holiday when I come in from the cold and fog. So I got a pale sunny yellow for the walls, I've started painting the furniture white (cheaper than buying new, though a real pain in the ass), and I've changed the artwork to reflect scenes from the sea. I bought a frame which holds nine photos and printed out pics of us at the sea, either surfing or playing, keeping the colors in blues and sunny (or sandy) yellow.

I've done the walls from the living room, up the stairs, in the "hallway" and up the other stairs to the "mansarda", or livable attic.

Now, up there I'm going to do a pale-pale sky blue on the walls and in between the rafters. There are good beams and then there are some real shit pieces of wood that make up the main ceiling. This area wasn't originally meant to be a living space, so the materials aren't the best quality,except the main beams. So, before I paint, I need to fill any spaces between the planks. I'm stuffing the larger ones with rolled up newspaper, and putting stucco in all of the gaps, even over the newspaper. I hope it will also help retain heat in the winter and keep it cooler in the summer. The temp difference up there is noticeable, and that's where I sleep.

So, this is what I'm doing, other than the other 1 million things I usually do as a "single" mom.

A friend on Facebook told me today that I should start an all female painting company here. She must live in la-la land because she's American and lives here in Italy, too, with her Italian husband. She should know better. Reasons why this is an impossibility:

1. I'd NEVER find another woman who would do the work. It's hard and messy, and they'd break a nail.
2. If I found a team, no one, and I mean NO ONE, would hire women to paint their home. Not even another woman.
3. Any other painters in the area would make it a point to humiliate me, ruin me, etc. Not only because it would be competition business-wise, but because deep down, Italian men are scared of women.
4.Opening a business of any kind in Italy is next to impossible with all the red tape (unless you're Chinese, and speak no Italian, then no problem [I'll get to THAT on another day])
5. Finally, I'm 41 frikking years old. I do not want to have a baby. And owning a business is the same as having a baby. You're tied down until it grows enough to be left in the hands of someone competent, and usually competent people are hard to find, especially when thinking about leaving your "baby".

So, in the meantime, I'll just work on my own home. I need to sell this place!

Ciao...well FUCK. Just had a small earthquake. Seriously. This one, yep, felt it. Weird sensation, really. Thought my stomach was rumbling at first, then it got stronger LOL

THINKING OUTSIDE THE BOX ovvero PENSANDO FUORI DAGLI SCHEMI

In my years here I've noticed MANY things, good and bad, to compare to life in other countries. I claim to be seeing this country from the point of view of a Texan, but I actually lived all over the world as a child due to my family's line of work.

I've also lived in other US states as an adult, though not for as long as I lived in Texas. So, I guess I'm not TECHNICALLY a Texan, though I'll claim it.

Today I had to explain to my 9 year old on the way to school why there are no lockers, shelves or cubbies in Italian schools. It's easy to just say "E' così, e basta," meaning, more or less, "That's life, drop it." But I WANT her to see that life doesn't always come with one perspective, so I tried to explain the "seeing/thinking outside of the box" idea to her.

I explained that many people here find comfort in their boxes--in their four walls and floor and ceiling--and that to take a peek outside would scare them. Anything new, modern or different can be scary, even if it is proven to be useful, easy, safer and more economical. But there is no real sense of enterprise here, no need for risk or personal challenge, so it's easier to stay in the box and peek out, all the while complaining that life isn't as good as you wish.

It is a very sad situation, and I don't know how many other countries are afflicted with this mentality, but it could cause the ruin of a nation. It's 2012, and time to roll with the changes. It's not time to put a fast food restaurant on every corner, or to wear pajamas and bunny slippers to the mall. It's not time to have ten credit cards for every family and wrack up debt buying stuff you don't need with money you don't have. These are not ideals that need to be taken out of America. Keep that shit there. I understand.

But Italia needs to OPEN UP mentally and put itself back in the running with other developed countries.

Open up the box and get out.