First Mission

The first few days
My first week here in the village of Santomato, Tuscany passed by so quickly that it made my head spin. The first few days, my three years of studying Italian added up to one very grammatically complicated phrase “uhhhh….si” or sometimes “uhhh…no”. My host family is a family of extravagant Italian millionaires, and I find it very difficult understanding their habits (just like they find it difficult understanding my Italian – I guess it’s a mutual misunderstanding). One thing that I would like to underline is that I am marveled that the owners choose to grow their own lemon tress, cherries, figs and olives and than personally go out in the field to collect "la recolta".

Casper is the least of my worries
South of the main house on the property you will find a shady looking building of three apartments, two of which are being renovated and one that needs to be renovated – mine. Figuring out how to use the “appliances” in my apartment should be at least a college degree on its own, because there are many combinations of appliances that make the electricity in the entire building go out if turned on simultaneously. By now, I’m completely used to having to go down to the basement with a flashlight at least once a day and play with all the electrical switches until the electricity comes back by itself.

Construction workers to the rescue
Another very special feature of my accommodations is that the bathroom is separate from the apartment, but the apartment door can only be opened from the inside, since there is no handle on the outside. So whenever I have to use the bathroom, I have to bring with me a heavy medieval-style keychain, with medieval style keys, otherwise I remain locked on the outside. Needless to say, one time I left my heavy medieval keys in the kitchen and went to take a shower, the wind slammed my apartment door behind me and left me locked out. Thank God for the friendly construction workers who politely offered to climb on a ladder, break the mosquito nets on the windows and enter my bedroom to let me in?

Missing Munchies
Normally, in Mississauga, my fridge is full of food and whenever I crave any kind of snack, I just hop into the car and it’s a five-minute drive to the nearest 24hr drive-through Wendy’s. Here, however stores close at 7pm, and they have an obligatory nap-break from 1pm-4pm. Since my nearest supermarket is a 35 min walk through a dirt road, then a field and then a small village in 45C heat, getting those Fruit Roll-Ups is never an easy task. I swear the walk to the grocery store, seems like its uphill both ways! Also, I’ve noticed that whenever I buy a family-size bottle of Coca-Cola, half of it seems to disappear before I even arrive home.

Famously Forward Italian Men
Yes, it is true. Italian men are much more daring and forward than Canadians. At times, they are uncomfortably daring and forward. A common greeting to a young woman here in Italy would be “Ciao Bella/Cara/Carissima” whereas a common question asked when meeting for the first time would be “When are you taking me to (insert country of origin) to meet the in-laws?” Also, walking down the road (provocative clothing not necessary) I’ve noticed that male drivers do not spare honking the horn or yelling comments out of the car windows.