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Sono Italo Americana

Posted in Expat in Italy, Italian-Americans, italo americano, Italy, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on May 15, 2011| Leave a Comment »

I Nonni DeBella

I used to make the same mistake most Italian Americans make. When someone asked my nationality I always responded “I’m Italian.”  It was when I moved to Italy and became immersed in its culture that I began to detect the distinct differences between us: Italians vs. Italian Americans.  We are cousins for sure – we share ancestors, history, traditions and certain sensibilities, but we are also completely different.  It comes down to that aged-old question: nature of nurture?  Nationality: I believe it’s in our DNA.

Sono italo americana

Many Italian Americans grow up in an environment that is quintessentially American but with undertones of Italian culture threaded through everything.  Mine, I think, is typical of a lot of first and second generation families whose descendants immigrated from Italy in the late 1800s to early 1900s.  My Sicilian grandparents, Gioachino DiBella and Nimfa Pizzo, were born in small towns near Palermo, and although they were very young children when they left their homeland, they remained “from the old country” their entire lives.  The photo at the top, for example, was taken in our backyard in San Jose, California around 1965.  At the time bell bottoms and the Beatles were in fashion, but looking at my grandparents in this photo, it could have been taken in 1865!

Born in America: Parts from Italy

My parents Luke and Nancy

I would say that Italian Americans are born with an identity crisis.  We are “hybrids” – the Prius’ of American society. We feel part of a culture and experience that is in stark contrast to the Ward and June Clever-types portrayed in TV sitcoms.  Our large, loud and chaotic families are the center of our universe.  At birthdays, Baptisms, Christmas, etc., the house is filled with people from the same gene pool.  Sunday dinner is served at 1:00 p.m. at our grandparents’ house (who live with us, next door to us, or down the street from us).  Thanksgiving dinner includes the traditional turkey, stuffing, yams and homemade ravioli.  Italian American friends never call – they just stop by after dinner, often bearing brown paper bags filled with cherries, zucchini, tomatoes…whatever they have in abundance from their trees or in their gardens.

Il Segreto: The Secret

I can’t really list for you all the differences between Italians from Italy and Italian Americans, I just know we are different.  I try to resist the urge to boil people down to stereotypes because it’s never useful and not quite that simple.  However, when I am surrounded by Italians, I can feel it.  It’s like they know something that I don’t know.  It’s in their eyes, in the way they carry themselves, a sort of special grin that says to me “I have the secret” to: 1) happiness, 2) living well, 3) the meaning of life.  Italians are a fascinating composite of intelligence, cynicism, superstition, generosity, warmth, hyper-criticism, style, emotionality and humanism. You certainly have to consider that their civilization has been in existence for thousands of years.  It’s a culture of people who have seen it all, done it all and have the T-shirt. Americans are the “teenagers” of civilizations – we have a lot to learn.  We may be the most powerful country in the free world, but we are “cultural pipsqueaks” in comparison.

“Families are like fudge – mostly sweet with a few nuts.” ~Author Unknown

A family camping trip

Despite all our differences, when it comes down to it, what makes us most alike – two separate people from two different countries – is our regard for family.  Family is the cornerstone of our lives: we hold it in highest esteem – even if we don’t understand each other, fight with one another, or at times hate each other.  We never forget that home and family is where we started. And if we are lucky to have been born into a good and loving one, we hope it is where we will be in the end.  So, here’s to the family…”Alla Famiglia”. That’s Italian and Italian American.

by Toni DeBella

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Un Amico di Penna

Posted in Culture, Expat in Italy, Italy, Liguria, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Travel, Umbria, tagged , , , , , , , on May 8, 2011| 4 Comments »

“I do believe they are out there, guardian angels, soul mates…eager to share with us a portion of our travel. Don’t you believe there are circumstances that determine the situations, our thoughts that shape life? I don’t remember who said: “When the student is ready the teacher comes”. I think we are like a sort of antenna, able to send and receive messages at a specific frequency. There will always be someone who catches our requests and they certainly come to help us open a new door to the vastness of our soul. You have the answer in that sense of peace warming up your heart.”  

               – Antonio, in a letter dated July 11, 2010.

I’d heard about a website where you could find mother-tongue (madre lingua) speakers with whom to practice Italian, and in turn, they could practice their English with you.  By establishing a line to an Italian pen pal (un amico di penna), might I narrow the gap and feel a little bit closer to the country I love?  I registered under my il nome italiano (Italian name) Antonella and waited for the responses.

Several days passed when I received a lovely introduction letter from Antonio, a marketing executive.  He wanted to improve his English for work.  He was obviously intelligent and serious-minded, so I wrote him back..and it begins.

Antonio writes that he was born and raised in the north of Tuscany, not far from the Ligurian and Tuscan Coasts.   He is married and has a daughter at university, is a veracious reader, an avid swimmer, and sometimes, while on his frequent business trips around Europe, a painter of landscapes.

Antonio’s letters were always introspective and soulful – they touched me deeply.  Despite the language, culture and distance that separated us, we seemed to see life from similar points of view.  In less than a month we were writing long letters to each other – mine in Italian, his in English.  With each letter we revealed a little more of ourselves (he referred to it as “loosening the knots”).  We wrote of things that we couldn’t say to our closest friends and shared times in our lives that were difficult or profound.  I felt safe to express myself without concern of judgment or criticism.  We had little to lose because, in essence, we were strangers – black letters on a white computer screen.  We called what we had created between us “il nostro angolo” (our corner) – a special place where we could be our best selves.

It was springtime and I was back in Umbria at the same time Antonio was in Rome for business, so we arranged to meet for a coffee on his way home.  For both of us the Duomo of Orvieto is a very symbolic and mystical place, so we agreed that in front of its beautiful facade was a perfect meeting point.  I’d seen a photo of him a month before, but photographs never accurately portray a person’s “presence”.  Antonio strikes a beautiful figure – tall, lean and handsome.  He wore his white hair a bit long (as many Italian men do) and his glasses highlighted his blue eyes that were so bright a color, they were somewhat distracting.  He explained he must be back in Tuscany by dinnertime and had only two hours to spend with me. It was a warm and sunny day, so we decided to walk around the narrow streets of town and talk.

Those two hours passed as if they were two minutes.  The time together was so comfortable, quiet, familiar…so perfectly normal.  It seemed more like a long-awaited reunion than a first-time meeting.  After circling town, we returned to the spot where we started and sat down on the Duomo steps.  The silence between us was deafening, but neither of us knew what words to say. He finally broke the spell when he announced it was time for him to go.  We walked back to his car arm and arm, we said our goodbyes, promised to write soon, hugged and I turned and walked away. It was the last time I saw Antonio.

Throughout the year there have been occasional short notes to one another, but really, what is the point?  We both know that nothing good can come from our continued contact and although I didn’t want to let it go, the right thing to do was to stop our correspondence.  Antonio said his life is like a gypsy’s and he once wrote this about it: “Sometimes I figure that this life is driving me slowly but constantly and directly towards my dark night”.  I think about Antonio often.  I miss our conversations and wonder where in the world he might be.  But like a little jewel, the memory of that day is stored preciously in a little box in that little “corner” that we shared.


by Toni DeBella

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Caffe’ Enigma

Posted in Culture, Expat in Italy, Italy, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Umbria, tagged , , , , , , on April 30, 2011| 6 Comments »

I am standing there completely paralyzed, sweat is forming on my brow. I can feel my heart racing and I’m not sure which direction to go or who I can call to for help. I want to turn and run but the crowd behind me is pushing me forward. I feel trapped, scared, confused, disoriented…I don’t know what to do…

…Do I pay first and then order? Or, do I order, go back to the cashier, pay and then give my receipt to the barista? If I order first and want to sit down at a table, do I wait for my coffee at the counter and then carry it  there myself or order and then expect the barista to bring it to me and pay on my way out?

The Italian Coffee Bar: an institution, a meeting place, a culture unto itself and a complete enigma! As far as I can tell, there are no hard and fast rules – kind of like irregular Italian verbs – you can’t always get an explanation of when to apply them.  It’s intuitive – a subtle sense that develops over time and with a lot of “trial and error”.  In my case, mostly “error”.  Why on earth can’t I figure this out? I mean, I am reasonably intelligent – I went to college for God’s sake!  I can certainly manage to order a coffee in Italy. How hard can it be? Well… apparently pretty hard.

Here is a short list of coffee drinks you can order at a neighborhood Italian bar: Caffe’ (espresso), Caffe’ Americano (watered-down espresso in a large cup), Cappuccino (espresso with steam milk on top), Caffe’ Corretto (espresso with a shot of liquor), Caffe’ Freddo (espresso cold), Hag (decaf espresso), Caffe’ Latte (half espresso, half steamed milk), Caffe’ Lungo (espresso made with more hot water), Macchiato (espresso with a dollop of cream – hot or cold), Caffe’ Ristretto (stronger espresso), Shakerato (espresso, milk, sugar, and ice, shaken), Caffe D’Orzo (espresso made with barley), and Cioccolata Calda (hot chocolate)…just to name a few.  See, easy.

Until I am fully versed in coffee protocol, I have found a way to cope with my incompetency and the stress that comes with it:  I limit myself to a couple of bars in town that I am familiar and comfortable with. At Caffe’ Del Corso and Blue Bar in Orvieto, I know the owners, they know me and their system is clear (and they give me the locals’ price). Honestly, I can’t bear to see one more barista’s look of disgust when I break the cardinal rule of Italian coffee-taking; ordering a cappuccino after 11:00 a.m!

At restaurants, I used to pretend that I actually wanted an espresso after dinner because I knew the waiter would glare at me and judge me if I asked for anything more than a macchiato (espresso with a dollop of cream). In the case of Giampiero, owner of La Palomba, every time I order a cappuccino after dinner, he gives me a hard time. We have long discussions (arguments really) about why I shouldn’t have milk late at night. (Italians believe its not good for digestion).  When I ask an Italian why it’s okay to eat Panna Cotta or Tiramisu after a meal (both made with heavy cream), but not drink coffee with milk, I never get a straight answer. As far as I can tell the explanation is “you just don’t, punto! And with Giampiero, it has become a running joke, a comedy routine like “Who’s on First”. I eventually get what I want, but I have to practically beg him. Then he just shrugs his shoulders, smiles and a cappuccino arrives at my table. But you know, it’s worth all the pain and suffering because, in the end, I get to drink coffee as smooth and delicious as any in the world. Italians love their coffee and so do I!

Brothers Mirko and Cristian Galanello will offer you coffee, cocktails and soccer matches at Caffe’ del Corso, Corso Cavour 158, 05018 Orvieto, 0763 344724; Anthony and Romina make you feel very welcomed whether you are a local or a tourist at Blue Bar, Via Garibaldi, 23, 05018 Orvieto, 0763 344150; Dine on classic Umbrian cuisine and wine at La Palomba, Via Cipriano Menente, 16, 05018 Orvieto, 0763 343395. Tell owner Giampiero that “Silvia” sent you (an inside joke between us) and after a wonderful meal, order un caffe’!

by Toni DeBella

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Pane e Vino: AnnaMaria in Sicilia!

Posted in Culture, Expat in Italy, Italy, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Sicily, tagged , , , , , on April 4, 2011| Leave a Comment »

AnnaMaria arrived in Agrigento yesterday and I received an email from her to say that her apartment was beautiful but that she was dead tired. I know just how she feels. It’s probably the way I feel each time I land in Rome – it feels like home. She and I met in 2009, just after I returned from my winter living in Orvieto. I was feeling completely lost and disconnected – not adjusting well to the reentry into American life. She is the antithesis of me: dark, slim, dignified and subdued (albeit with a biting wit and sarcastic sense of humor that she reveals only when she knows you well). What we have most in common is that we know where we really belong –Italy. Me in Umbria, she in Sicilia. We know that one day we will become permanent residents of this wild, crazy and spectacularly beautiful place. This we know for sure. It was such a lovely and warm evening in San Francisco, so after work I decided to treat myself to a nice dinner in her honor. I strolled up and down Union Street and stopped in front of Pane E Vino Trattoria. Through the window I could see they had a few small tables near the front where there is light so I could read my book. (I always have to bring something to do in case I get self-conscious about dining alone). The proprietor is Italian, all the waiters are Italian, the elderly couple next to me were Italian, the older couple on the other side of them were Italian (he immigrated to San Francisco in 1948 – I was eavesdropping). I recognized a guy from Milano I’d met a few times at my Italian conversation meet-up. I spoke to my Venetian waiter in Italian, but first I apologized for my sub-standard skills. Like most Italians, he was kind and said “No, no, you speak very well, Bella”. Gotta love those Italians! I sat there eating my delicious Melanzane alla Parmigiana and a perfectly grilled side of asparagus with a glass of Chianti, just listening to everyone around me speaking Italian. Couples, families, a man and his mother. I noticed on the wall above me a ceramic sculpture of the moon and sun. It made me think of my artist-friend who sculpts versions of this symbol in terracotta. That’s when I felt the tears well-up in my eyes. It’s not sadness, exactly, but not really nostalgia either. It’s hard to describe, but it always catches me off-guard. I’ve been back from my last trip for almost a month and thought I was past the culture-shock and let-down that grips me. I thought I was doing okay, but I guess I was deluded. Walking to my car, I thought about AnnaMaria again. Not one-single ounce of my being is jealous of her right now. On the contrary, I’m happy for her, proud of her, admire her for taking the leap-of-faith and going to Sicily for 2 months. I know what it takes to do that – the confidence to know what makes you happy and the courage to try to obtain it. I want for her what I want for myself; to find a way to stay in Italia forever. Complimenti, AnnaMaria!!! by Toni DeBella

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Le Cinque Terre: Walk of my Life

Posted in Culture, Italy, Liguria, Living in Italy, Orvieto, Umbria, tagged , , , , , , , , , on April 4, 2011| 5 Comments »

I come back to Orvieto at least twice a year, but I’ve always wanted to make the journey to Le Cinque Terre, so this trip I decided to drag myself away from “La Rupe” for a few days and head for the Ligurian Coast.  Winter is a good time to avoid the usually crowded trails of the high season and the sweltering heat of summer.

It was an easy 4½-hour train ride from Umbria, changing trains only once in Florence.  It was raining lightly, but that only added to the atmosphere of towns perched on the rocky Ligurian coast.  In La Spezia, I met my friend Angelo, who lives and works in Torino (3 hours north).  His train was an hour late so I waited in the bar at the train station.  When he finally arrived, we caught the train to Monterosso al Mare where we’d made reservations at B&B Arcobaleno (rainbow).  After unpacking, we met up to walk the promenade that lines the beach to the antique section of town.  We found an outdoor cafe and sat down for a glass of Proscecco when it started to rain, but luckily we were protected by a large awning.  As we sat there, a train carrying passengers between the five villages drove right over our heads!  The waitress, Chiara, recommended a seafood restaurant and because we were both so hungry, we ordered too much food.  I had ravioli with spinach in a walnut cream sauce. Angelo had pasta with pesto (a specialty of Genova – just an hour north).  We shared mixed, deep-fried seafood (the famous Anchovies of Monterosso, are a local specialty that have a Protected Designation of Origin status from the European Union.)  Two glasses of Lemoncello completed the dining experience and we were off to bed…we had a big day ahead of us.In the morning there was not much sun but, fortunately no rain, the temperature was pleasant for our long trek.  We took the train to the first town, Riomaggiore where we purchased a pass that includes access to the paths as well as unlimited train trips between Riomaggiore and Monterosso.  We walked the main street that leads to the sea.  Colorful houses were stacked on top of each other like a crowd of people trying to push against one another to see the view.  And what a view it is!  Red, green, yellow and blue fishing boats lined the small harbor and men were fishing from the rocks (reminding me of my father and his love of fishing).  Did their wives send them out for fish like American wives send their husbands to the supermarket?

We began our hike at the “Via Dell’Amore“ (Love Walk) which cuts along the cliffs above the calm sea below.  Much like the famous bridge in Rome, Ponte Milvio, lovers hang locks on the nets attached to the rocks, writing their names to declare their undying love.  Normally you could walk from the end of the Via Dell’Amore to the Sentiero Azzurro (“Light Blue Trail”), the trail that connects the five villages, but today the trails were closed because of rock slides, so instead we caught the train to the next towns of Manarola and Corniglia.  The walk to Corniglia from the station was a long switch-back road, so we jumped on the bus that ferries tourists into town.  Angelo and I decided to buy a couple of sandwiches, a bottle of wine and eat our lunch on the beach, but it was not meant to be.  Both Markets that make sandwiches were out of bread…we waited too long!!!  Instead we ate our lunch at a bar and eavesdropped on the locals’ stories to one another – Ligurians seemed to be a very calm and easy-going group.  With lunch finished, off we went…there was much more to see.

Vernazza is the liveliest of the towns.  All the brightly colored boats are parked in the middle of the piazza and so we decided to take our coffee outside on a bench while watching the waves crash onto the rocks. I’d still be sitting there now, but it was getting dark and we needed to return to Monterosso by sunset.  After a long day, we took a break and met up that evening for a pizza in the old part of town again.  Not wanting to destroy all the good effects of walking, we ordered pizza Margheritas and shared a dessert of sweet panini filled with Nutella – perfectly coupled with the house red wine.  We walked slowly back to Arcobaleno, not because our legs were tired and tight (they were), but because we wanted to enjoy the picturesque walk with its soft lamplights and the moon’s reflection on the large rock in the sea near the shore.  Saturday night in Monterosso al Mare is much like other towns in Italy with locals out for a “passeggiata” – children running and playing while their parents and grandparents stop to talk to their neighbors.

The next morning we were sorry to leave, but the train ride to La Spezia travels along the sea, periodically under the darkness of a tunnel, but then back out to see the magnificent “Mediterranean” again.  My only regret is that my camera’s battery was low and although I took photos with a disposable camera I bought from a shop in town, I am not sure I was able to capture this Ligurian dream…..we will see what “develops”.

Leaving Umbria this trip, I had another opportunity to see how diverse and unique each region of Italy can be from the other.  I loved Liguria and I hope to come back someday and spend more time learning about its customs and traditions.

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