The Italia Blogs: Different

It's the littlest of things.  Things you've never thought about in your own country or another.

The apartment: on the top floor of what Americans would call a 6-story building. Italians, or maybe all Europeans, since I learned this studying Spanish too, call it a 5-story building. "First floor" is "T" for terra (ground), "second floor" is 1, "third floor" is 2, and so on. Some floors were businesses, some apartments. I'm curious - is "zoning law" an exclusively American term?

Toilets: normally have their tank up on the wall somewhere close and only the commode sitting on the floor. The flush lever is usually a button on the wall between the two. Next to it almost always sits a bidet, which for the first few days I thought was a child's toilet or something. (Always good to ask!)

Showers: are often just a hose coming out of a wall with a drain in the floor. Long, hot, daily showers? Americans are spoiled.

Lights: you flip the switch down to turn lights on.

Refrigerators: maybe this wasn't everywhere, but our refrigerator was about the size of American freezers. Food isn't kept nearly as cold - unnecessary, because it's bought fresh, in much smaller potions and only as needed.

Microwaves: didn't see one the entire two weeks. No clothes dryers either - just some lines strung out  on the balcony.

When it snows: they call for a miracle from the Pope.

Pharmacies: are marked with green plus signs and there is one at least every block. If I understood correctly, should you need something like bandaids, tampons, or calamine lotion, you'd have to go to a pharmacy i.e. you couldn't find them at, say, a grocery store or a Wal-mart. In need of unguento antibiotico (antibiotic ointment) for my blistered feet, I learned that all medications, "OTC" or not, are kept behind the counter and you must ask a pharmacist for them. Interesting.

Driving: lane markers are just a suggestion. Did you know you can fit 5-6 lanes of traffic on a 3 lane freeway? I often felt like I was in the middle of a high-speed chase.

Crosswalks: you must step out into the crosswalk, in front of oncoming traffic, in the hopes that they see you and stop.

Cars: half the size or less than ours and fueled by diesel. Automatic transmission is a luxury that must be specially-requested. You can park pretty much anywhere: double, or on the sidewalk. MANY fewer people own cars because...

Motorcycles: are ridden by everyone. Women in business suits wear helmets as they zoom around on their lunch hour - eating gelato. And also...

Busses/subways/taxis/trains: why do you need a car with so much public transportation? Especially when diesel is sold for 2-ish euro per litre?

Personal space: does not exist.

Smoking: not a taboo.

Ambulances: keep their lights on at nearly all times. I think I understood that you really only have to move if you hear sirens.

Police: wear automatic weapons.  It's really not a big deal.

Ordering food: The eating experience is another blog in itself.

The Italian language: no mediocre words. Everything is spoken to a cadence, with deliberation and intensity of feeling. And better still - you hear not only Italian and English, but Spanish, French, German, and numerous Middle Eastern tongues. A glorious linguistic melting pot!

Life: in a history-soaked, modern metropolis is just as harried and busy as anywhere else in the world; yet somehow, it is so much more relaxed. They know how to enjoy life here.  They understand that this is crucial.

Italy understands me.