Disclaimer- The following description only pertains to our region of Northern Italy...or, it may only pertain to our town...or, it may only pertain to our village...or it may only pertain to our street. We can't really say. Also, this post contains a frightening photo with a full frontal uvula view that may not be suitable for all readers.
We have been here over a year. Why, oh why can't these people stop staring??? We have decided it must be a cultural difference. We have decided this a number of times, but boy does it feel awful to be on the receiving end of the stare. My gut instinct is to do the following to those who stare:
Furthermore- waving is not a casual gesture here in lovely Campagna di Boonies. I think our fellow villagers would rather kiss us than wave to us.
Several Saturdays ago, a fellow mom (Italian) from scuola drove by our place so we could follow her to an event. Her car was approximately ten feet in front of ours as we drove down our road. Off to the side of the road, gathered a group of three women. They appeared to be chatting- mabye about all the rain that's been falling lately. I have met all the women, on more than one occasion. My friend waved as she passed the group. They all heartily waved back- with smiles on their faces. We waved, out of instinct more than anything else, and their hands dropped out of the air faster than dead flies. (I could not think of an analogy, it's late.) Furthermore, their facial expressions changed to that of disgust mixed with uncertainty- I assume about our identity.
We LAUGHED OUT LOUD! We should have made faces...what if we did? I am sure they think we are crazy anyway : )
We have been here over a year. Why, oh why can't these people stop staring??? We have decided it must be a cultural difference. We have decided this a number of times, but boy does it feel awful to be on the receiving end of the stare. My gut instinct is to do the following to those who stare:
Furthermore- waving is not a casual gesture here in lovely Campagna di Boonies. I think our fellow villagers would rather kiss us than wave to us.
Several Saturdays ago, a fellow mom (Italian) from scuola drove by our place so we could follow her to an event. Her car was approximately ten feet in front of ours as we drove down our road. Off to the side of the road, gathered a group of three women. They appeared to be chatting- mabye about all the rain that's been falling lately. I have met all the women, on more than one occasion. My friend waved as she passed the group. They all heartily waved back- with smiles on their faces. We waved, out of instinct more than anything else, and their hands dropped out of the air faster than dead flies. (I could not think of an analogy, it's late.) Furthermore, their facial expressions changed to that of disgust mixed with uncertainty- I assume about our identity.
We LAUGHED OUT LOUD! We should have made faces...what if we did? I am sure they think we are crazy anyway : )
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Mimi