Living in Italy - Part 18: Mobile phones
[Loband: Object Removed -]
In Italy, talking on a mobile phone without an earpiece or microphone is punishable by law.
But I am not sure if the law actually has provisions if you talk on one phone, held in your right hand, while at the same time, you set the Email configuration of an other phone with your left hand.
While you are driving.
Let me correct that: While you are driving a bus full of people. In the middle of Rome.
I mean, after all, God gave men two hands, right? How else would you use the spare time in a traffic jam than calling up a helpdesk to configure the "Backke Barry" (sic) Email settings. Right?
Discovered via Repubblica, tipped by @GeoMmm
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Living in Italy - Part 16: Free WiFi access. Almost.
[i-Free WiFi access in Rome]
Since a while, there is free WiFi access in many public parks in and around Rome. All WiFi hotspots are neatly indicated with signs:
[i-Free WiFi access in Rome]
Encouraging effort to bridge the digital divide, if any left in Italy. Maybe there are also other divides to be addressed... When accessing the WiFi spot from a mobile phone, you are neatly prompted with a login screen:
[i-Free WiFi access in Rome]
Hmmm. Username and password, hey? Boh.. as it says (in Italian): registration is for free, so let's give it a try:
[i-Free WiFi access in Rome]
Holy Mo! That is a quite a chunk of data.. You need to give your name, address, mobile phone number, and of course endorse the terms and conditions which are neatly outlined (in Italian):
[i-Free WiFi access in Rome]
At that point, I gave up trying to register via my mobile phone.
Once back at home, I registered from my computer. Well, almost, as after filling in the form, you are prompted to confirm your registration by calling a toll-free number. You have to call it from the cellphone you registered. And you have five minutes.
So going outside, waiting for the mobile coverage to come up, I dialed the number. Which was engaged. Which was engaged again. Which was engaged once more. Which was engaged again. Which kept on being engaged.
Of course the five minutes deadline came sooner than expected, and I had to register again.
At that point I gave up. Maybe free WiFi access is not something for me.
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Living in Italy #17: Letter to the owner of the Italian Trash Company
[i-Italian trash on the streets]
When I landed in Rome, finally home after five months, there were three things I noticed on the way back from the airport:
- A beautiful sunset, the kind you only see in Italy;
- I had no mobile phone signal most of the way;
- Trash piled up everywhere next to the waste bins.
First, let me get this clear: I love living in Italy. But I never got my head around the fact why garbage is such a problem here. I mean, I don't live in a slum area, but in a village close to the capital, known as a weekend resort for the rich and famous - how much I fall out of that category. Still, trash piles up as if we lived in a slum...
And it is not as if people don't mind: People stopped I was walking around to take pictures of the three trash bins around my house. They looked at me, and at the rubble, only to sigh "A disgrace, isn't it?". One elder woman says: "Yes, young man, take pictures, document it, and do something about this scandal!".
So I will. Problem is, where to start? Luckily, one of the trash skips had a man's picture on it:
[i-Italian trash]
With my limited Italian, I understand this Mister Armeni must be the proud owner of the trash company called "Forza Italia". I guess the mother company is called "Il Popolo della Liberta - Berlusconi". Probably "Berlusconi" must be the overall umbrella of all Italian trash companies, then. At least that was the old lady's claim: "Berlusconi: Rifiuti! Rigiuti!"
As this Mister Armeni kindly displayed his picture on his company's trash cans, I gather he was asking for feedback. So I wrote him a letter:
To:
Mister Armeni
Owner
Regional Trash company "Forze Ragione Regione"
Member of National Trash company "Forza Italia"
Dear Mister Armeni,
Thank you for soliciting feedback on the services of your trash company. I would like to tell you how much I appreciate you must be owning a lot of wastage, and as part of the national trash conglomerate "Forza Italia", I am sure it must be a real challenge to daily hide garbage from the public eye.
Still, I would like to tell you that despite your best efforts, garbage seems to pile up more and more since you took over the company.
I hope you will soon deal with the situation, or speed up selling out your company to the well-known South Italian alliance specializing in the disposal of (radio active) trash (in the Mediterranean). I heard that company is already part of the National Trash company "Forza Italia" anyways...
Looking forward to see progress in your national programme "Trash Italy Fast"!
Kindly,
Peter
Post Scriptum: I googled the chairman of the Italian Trash company, and found this video, in which he explained his views on emancipation:
[Loband: Object Removed -]
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Living in Italy - Part 15: What makes food in Italy taste so good?
[i-fruits and vegetables]In principle, this could be the shortest blogpost I ever wrote:
| Question: "What makes food in Italy taste so good?" Answer: "The ingredients" |
Here is the longer version:
In a world where as a consumer, we want to have any type of vegetable or fruit in the shop, at any time during the year, we gradually slide into the habit of eating "plastic". There is no other word for a fruit or vegetable which was picked while unripe, only growing to its mature size (and of course its perfect look) while transported in an under-cooled container.
I remember the perfect December strawberries at breakfast in New York: shiny bright red on the outside, and white on the inside. Nothing but water. No taste whatsoever.
Same - or even more so - in Dubai, where fresh vegetables were almost non-existent. As local living habits were on the route to become North American, so were the eating habits. In the supermarkets, it all looked perfect: apples, asparagus, berries, oranges. Big sizes too. But taste like water.
And on top of that, upon popular demand by the consumer, fruits and veggies can not go off fast. We should be able to keep them in the fridge for three weeks at least... Plastic goes for ever, no? God knows what they treat veggies with to keep "fresh" for a month.
Not so in Italy. In general, you can only buy fruits and vegetables which are in season. The taste is like I have never experienced before. But you have to use it within the next days, as they go off in no time.
Look at this freshly picked Tuscan tomato a friend brought from her garden. See its colour, its firmness?
[i-Tuscan Tomatoe]
Freshly picked, it made a lovely meal by itself. But, amongst the two dozen tomatoes, there was one unripe tomato. Still firm green. Just for the curiosity, I left it on the cupboard for four weeks. When eventually it was ripe, it looked perfect, just like the others, but tasted like nothing. Why? It did not ripen in the sun, on its vine as the other tomatoes did. It grew to maturity on my cupboard.
[i-link]Look at this salsa I made: the only ingredient were freshly picked Tuscan tomatoes. I added some herbs and let it all broil for two hours. Look at the intensity of the colour, look how firm it is. If I'd do this with Belgian tomatoes, it would be all watery with only a hint of red.
And that is one of the reason I love to live in Italy.
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Top picture courtesy Nanaimo Info Blog Read the full post...
Living in Italy - Part 14: Size DOES matter in Italy
[i-Big car, Small car]
I live in Italy and normally drive the car in the front of the two: a Smart, a small two seater.
During the holidays, I flew to Belgium to pick up Tine and the girls. We drove back down to Rome with the second car: a monospace family car which we normally keep in Belgium. So, for the first time, I drove a bigger car in Italy for a month.
I was surprised how Italian drivers reacted differently. In the small Smart, I get pushed aside on roundabouts and in traffic jams. If I want to overtake anyone on the highway, they don't give way or 'd rather speed up than to let me pass.
With the big Peugeot on the other hand, I hardly have to push. It looks like traffic makes way for me, just like Moses parted the seas in the Bible...
Tine and I debated what the reason could be? We noticed that the average car driven this far south in Italy is a smaller family car, something like a Fiat Panda. Bigger than the Smart, but definitively smaller than our 7-seater... Could it be that the car was "respected" as a status symbol?
Or was it merely the size, where people think bigger cars just won't give way and *will* push their way through, even be it while 'gently touching' the other cars?
Whatever it was, the difference was there and I enjoyed not having to fight for "my space" on the road as I had to do with my Smart. Parking was a nightmare, though!
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Living in Italy - Part 13: Italian appointments - the sequel
[i-Dentist tools]
The week after the disillusioning appuntamente (appointments) with the hair dresser and the garage, I stepped into another appuntamento adventure. This time with a dentist.
I had never been to a dentist in Italy, but the week before last, a tooth ache appeared out of no-where. I could feel the pain spiking down to the bottom of my spine, a sign the nerve of the tooth was touched.
Via my Friend E, I got in touch with a dentist and made an appointment for "next Wednesday at 9:30 AM". This was my first surprise, as dentists are pretty busy.
I stood at the porch of their practice at 9:25, and they arrived at 9:30, on the dot: The dentist, a young bright-blue-eyed woman, and the receptionist, a lady with a godly smile.
The dentist looked at my teeth. She shook her head. She would need X-rays and an ultrasound cleansing to remove all chalk residues before she could do anything else.
One was work for an Xray technician, and the other for a dental hygienist. I had an instantaneous nightmare of an endless appuntamente string. The dentist laughed at my sad face and said she would take an Xray of the hurting tooth herself, and put in a temporary filling. My first good luck of the day, as otherwise, I would have started my holidays - the next day! - with hurting teeth...
Half an hour later, we tried to find a blank spot in the agenda of the dental hygienist, but nothing seemed possible until September... And the Xray person was not available for months neither.
Both the receptionist and my dentist started a soft discussion, and in the end, the receptionist said:
- "OK, we will do the Xray session in two weeks, followed the next hour with the root canal for your hurting tooth... But we will do the dental hygiene session now..."
- "Now?" I asked.
- "Now", she winked.. "I am a dental hygienist too. Today is a calm day at the reception, so I will do it. Is that ok?"
- "More than OK!"..
One hour later, I was back on the street. I had a dental appuntamento that had actually worked. They did even twice as much work as foreseen. Plus I had my dental hygiene session, for which I had not even taken an appointment.
So why did the appuntamente with hair dresser and the garage not work out, while I had no trouble at the dentist?
My theory: The first two were men. The latter were with two women. Proof efficiency in the Italian society revolves around the women, not the men. Punto.
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Picture courtesy Dentist Tools (obviously!)
Living in Italy - Part 12: More on Italian appointments
[i-Italian hairdresser]
As I came back from my failed “appuntamento” (appointment) with the garage, I headed for the centre of Rome. We were early July, schools were already in their summer break, so traffic was a breeze. I arrived almost an hour early for my appointment with the physio-therapist. I wanted him to straighten out my back before the start of the holidays…
I walked a couple of blocks and found a bar. Don’t get me wrong, yes- it was early in the morning, about 9:30 AM, but a “bar” in Italy is more a coffee shop than a place where you buy alcohol…
As I was sipping my café, I noticed a “parrucchiere”, a hair dresser, next door. The lady was standing outside, smoking a cigarette, so they could not have been very busy. I needed a hair cut badly.. I asked her if she had time, did not need much of a designer cut, so fifteen minutes would do it.. She looked at me, and said she did not have time now, but I could make an appuntamento for 11:15. That synchronized nicely with my appointment with the physio session, so I agreed eagerly.
After my vertebrae and joints were all cracked back in place, I went back to the hair dresser. I was fifteen minutes early, so she asked me to wait for a bit. I took out my laptop and started working outside, on a bench right in front the shop. “I will call you when I am ready”, the hair dresser nodded..
The next time I looked at my watch, it was 1:15 PM… I had been sitting there for two and a half hours and forgot all about time. Laptop in hand, I stormed back into the shop, to find it filled to the brim with ladies. And two sweating hair dressers… One of them looked at me and shook his head.
- “No time today!”
- “But I have an appuntamento for 11:15”
- [nod] “No time today!”
- “But I came here at 9:30 and we made an appuntamento for 11:15. I have now been waiting here for two and a half hours.”
- “What can I say? No time today!”.
- “But could you not have told me earlier?”
- “What difference would it make? I told you, I have no time today. What more do you want me to say? I – have – no – time – today…”
- “I – say – bollocks – bollocks – bollocks -…”
I gesticulated wildly, raised my voice, and then retreated in apathy, to the great amusement of the dozen later-aged ladies. Who all confirmed what the parrucchiere said: “He has no time today”…
That day, I had three appuntamente. One with the garage, one with a hair dresser and one with the physio-therapist. Only the latter worked out. And he is Belgian.
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Picture courtesy J.Cangiano
Living in Italy - Part 11: The concept of appointments
[i-my Smart garage in Rome]
I drive a Smart in Italy. This small two-seater is made by Mercedes, so you think of German Grundlichkeit – thoroughness and professionalism – when you would deal with a Mercedes garage. In Italy, think again...
My Smart’s air-conditioning broke down, waaayy back. With the temperature climbing to 30 dgrs C, it got a bit too hot.
So, I drove to the Mercedes garage and asked to book a repair. The Mercedes garage looks like the entry of a luxury bank or furniture store. Classy people in uniform, design sofas, people at individual desks talking with customers..
Only... I could not book a repair, as I needed to make an ‘appuntamento’ with a ‘consulente’ first. Only THEN I could book for a repair.
I was not going to brushed off like that. I made clear my car was hot, and I needed it repaired. Even more so, I wanted to drop the car early in the morning, and pick it up in the evening otherwise I’d have to hire a car to drive home. Taxis don't want to go where I live. Too much out of their way..
Escalating my request and raising the tone of my voice, I got promoted from the girl at the reception, to a junior consulente, to the senior consultant, and ended up with the boss of the designer garage joint.
He agreed with me, but I had to make an “appuntamento” with a “consulente” weeks in advance, to make sure they could reserve a mechanic for a day. And I had to book an appointment via their toll-free number. A bit of an adventure, as nobody spoke English on the other end of the line. After 30 minutes of discussions, we had a deal.
Weeks later comes G-Day, “Garage”-day. The day whose evening would be blessed with me, stepping out of the car looking like a cool dude, without a shirt dripping with sweat. “Cool” would be a keyword from then on. And even better: "G-Day" was a "Fri-day", so I would have a cool car for the whole cool weekend!
[i-my Smart garage in Rome]
Early morning of G-day, I drove to the garage. Waited for the consulente while seated in the designer sofa. As if I’d be checking in my car in a luxury clinic. The appointment with my consulente was at 9:15 apparently. I was 45 minutes early.
Felt like going to a dentist, so I got steaming a bit, as the only thing I wanted, was to drop off the keys: I had already explained everything to the boss, and to the lady at the toll free number. So why would I need to queue up with a ‘consultente’. On top of that, I had my friend “E” waiting to give me a lift back to work.
Anyways, forty minutes later, the consulente decided it was my turn. We filled in heaps of paperwork, went over to look at the car, noted every dent and scratch. Checked the car’s chassis number and registration papers. I explained in my best Italian “what is the matter”, and he confirmed everything in his best English. Luckily “air-conditioning” in English is “air-conditioning” in Italian.. More papers to sign. Something with a privacy act. Then he types everything into his computer, and smiles at me while saying:
- Okay, done. Please give us a call somewhere next week to check if the car is ready…
- Next week?!! You guys said it would be fixed in a day ?!
- ???? Noooo.. (He laughs like this was the joke of the week).. We have no time today. Anyway, this can not be fixed in a day.
- Why not? I talked to the boss, he said it was fine. I waited for weeks so it could be done in a day?
- Which boss?
- There the one in that office… (And I point to the office which has a big sign “Manager”)
- Well you will have to wait until he arrives then. Discuss it with him, because I can not help you…
- When does he come in?
- Ooogh, around 11 probably.
- But it is 9 now.. I need to go to work.
- I am sorry, but there is no way I can help you. We don’t have time to finish this work today. And we will have to order spare parts… Which will take days to get here. (I remembered my friend E’s Smart which indeed was immobilized for five days for a spare part to come from Milano to Rome. Probably someone walked it over..)
- How about you guys take today to check what is wrong. I pick up the car in the evening. You order the spare parts and I drop off the car for a one day repair again next week? (Try to say that in Italian, hey? Amazing what I can do when I am annoyed)
- Oh, sir, but we don’t have time to even LOOK at the car today…
- …
- …
- … Let me get this right. I had to wait for weeks to make an appointment to get the car repaired within a day. You let me come on a Friday, and now you tell me you won’t even look at it until Monday morning?
- …
- So why do you let me come on a Friday, then? Why would I keep it here over the weekend, knowing you guys would not work on it?
He looks at me with pain in his eyes and a sad smile on his lips. He whispers “It is worse than Africa is it not?”.
In the end, I agreed I would drop the car off the week after. I’d be on holiday for one month. He thought there'd be a reasonable chance to repair the A/C within a month.
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Living in Italy - Part 10: Pay at the cashier first!
[i-Italy: pay at the cashier first]
I love Italy, but there are things I, as a foreigner, fail to understand. The system "Pagare prima alla cassa" - "Pay first at the cashier" is one of them.
It is common when taking gas, you first have to go to the cashier and "deposit" money before allowing to fill your tank. Like I would know exactly how much I need to fill up?!
So I park the car next to the pump, lock the car, walk over to the cashier, queue up, deposit 50 Euro, walk back to the car, put in as much as I can, walk back to the cashier, and claim the difference. And when I find out I deposited too little to fill the tank, I leave the gas station unfulfilled. As if I, and not my tank, were half empty.
I will spare you the description how it works if you pay with credit card. And how you can claim the difference back.
Nowhere else in Europe I encountered this system.
But it is not only at gas stations you pay first. When going to a coffee bar, for my morning shot, I have to queue up at the cashier first, order what I want, pay and I get a ticket. Then I queue up at the bar, with my ticket in my hand - which I figured out to be the standard sign meaning "I am waiting to be served". When it is my turn, I put the ticket on the counter, the barman tears it half way and puts it back on the counter. When the coffee is served, only then the ticket is taken away.
I understand the rationale but can not understand the logic as more often than not, they forget to ask for the ticket. Or don't tear up the ticket. So I wonder how effective the system really is.
And obviously, I confuse the hell out of them, as my regular shot is a 'Doppio Latte', a "double Latte", which most cashiers register on the ticket as two Latte's, which the barman translates into.. two Latte's. So I have to make sure I snatch the barman's attention during the two seconds he grabs my ticket, deciphers the order, tears it up and turns around to prepare the coffee, to make sure he heard my "Doppio Latte, per favore"...
There are many things I don't understand about Italy. Probably that is why I love it here...
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Living in Italy - Part 9: Gallantry and women
[i-link]After the Abruzzo earthquake Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi was quoted saying the victims living in tent cities should think of themselves as being on a camping holiday. He hit the news again a day ago by telling a female doctor "I wouldn't mind being resuscitated by you".
The press took it badly, but Dr Carrieri from Milan took up the Prime Minister's defence, saying he had paid her a "gallant" compliment to "take the drama out of the situation". (Full)
Which makes me think of men, women and Italy... After living in Italy for two years, I still find it remarkable how women are given remarks by Italian men. Women who lived in Italy for a while might easily see them as compliments, but foreigners would surely be surprised if not insulted:
Not only is staring almost an art, but it is also usual to be greeted in a shop with a "Ciao Bella!" ("Hi beautiful") and to get a "Arrivederci, cara" ("Bye, sweet").
It is usual to be talked to when sitting (as a woman) alone at a table in a restaurant or bar. Getting whistled at is a daily occurrence, remarks about the way a woman looks or dresses are common. Most women don't react, or (pretend to) see it as a compliment. Only they can tell if deep down inside they do. But if you, as a female tourist, visit Italy, don't be surprised...
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Living in Italy - Part 8: Living with garbage
[i-waste skip along the street near Rome]
While I love living in Italy, one of the things that intrigued and bothered me is the lax attitude versus waste management, recycling and garbage collection.
Sure enough, there are many "parts" in Italy, each with their own habits, procedures, administration, and culture, so I can not speak for the parts I have not lived in, or travelled through, but it seems in many parts the garbage collection is done in the same way: People dump their waste in garbage skips scattered along the streets, both in town centers and along the roads in rural areas. A garbage truck comes along every so often to empty the skips.
There seems to be no limit as to what people can dump in these skips. You can find anything from normal household garbage, the contents of entire file cabinets, chemicals like paint, engine oil and cleaning products, leaves and branches from the garden, bicycles, fridges, microwaves and computer screens. Just about anything goes. And if it is too big to put inside, people just leave it next to the skip.
[i-garbage skip along the road in Italy]Often these collection points, separated by only a few hundred meters in the towns, become a concentric area of scattered broken glass, plastic bags, tins and cans that were either spilled while throwing them in the skip, pulled out by street dogs, or just dumped on the spot, next to the skip.
There are mainly three types of skips: one for generic waste, one for paper and cardboard and one for plastic and glass. In many cases, though, you can only find the one for generic waste, so "recycling" is often only a remote thought in Italy. A thought confirmed if you look what people actually dump in the recycling bins. It seems like they are used as an overflow for the general waste skip.
Most of the time, the skips are not emptied fast enough. What is the "well-intended waste generator" to do? He or she put his stinking and leaking garbage bags in the car (guaranteed to leave a smell for the next two months) early in the morning (what else do you need to start off a nice day), drives to the skip only to find it full... Of course people will not drive to the next one, or come back the next day. They will dump it right there.
I was glad to finally see some recycling bins in my neighbourhood. Previously I had to drive 3 km to the nearest place where I could conscientiously dump carefully separated paper, plastic and glass.
Unhappy I was to find the "glass and plastic"-skip is never emptied. It just stands there, full. And has been for the past four months..
[i-waste skip near Rome]
More on The Road about living in Italy.
Living in Italy - Part 7: The Important Things First
[i-pausa caffe]Why I like living in Italy? They got their priorities right!
We had a business appointment in town this week. Found the office closed with a little note on the door: "On coffee break. Will be right back".
The whole office had gone to the coffee shop on the corner for the morning shot. Business could wait.
And yes, coffee is a big thing in Italy. Check this post.
More on The Road about living in Italy.
Living in Italy - Part 6: When you enter a shop
When I enter a shop in Italy, the experience is far different from my frustrating encounters with the fraud Italian services business.
This morning, I went to a coffee bar for my typical Italian breakfast, and they greeted me as if I was a long lost friend returning after years of absence. They prepared a coffee for me, as a work of love and served it with a smile that would make your heart melt.
Ok I admit, the lady likes me, but hey...
I passed by the newspaper stand. The lady greets me with "Ciao caro! Where are you rushing to? You seem so much in a hurry? How are you doing?".
I have only met her twice in my life.
Dropping by the local supermarket, every single employee greets me with "Buongiorno! Come stai?" even as they pass me, while I am looking at the racks of pommodore sauce. (the supermarket has about 10 racks. One is entirely reserved for tomato sauce, one for olive oil, two for pastas).
And the service is expanded to a level foreigners might get annoyed (I'm not). Like when I was asking for "that piece of Gorgonzola cheese" (pointing with finger), and the guy behind the counter grinned and shook his head: "I will give you this one, much better!", without even asking me.
When I ordered 400 grams of "prosciutto crudo di Parma" (raw ham), he cuts me 580 grams. Does not even ask me "Ok if it would be a bit more?". He did say "This ham is really good, look at the texture, it is just right!"
Last time, I ordered prosciutto, the lady countered: "400 grams??!? Are you sure? That is a lot!". I said I was sure, and a discussion started between both ladies behind the counter. They agreed to "wrap it in two separate packs, so it stays fresh for longer, as he will not eat it all at once!", while their smiles reminding me of my mum's.
Ok, I have to admit, they both like me. The ladies behind the counter I mean. Well, my mum likes me too, but that is not what I meant.
The language barrier is hampering a more intimate exchange of information, though. Laura from the coffee shop downstairs always gives me the best of smiles, as if saying "I know
that you know that I am thinking "I wished I knew enough English to have a decent conversation with him".
I think she likes me too.
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Rumble: Living in Italy - Part 5: Itanglish
My usual disclaimer: I love Italy. I love living here. I love the country, its people, its food, its culture... But it is a country with quirks, which make you smile.
Many people here don't speak a second language, not even younger people. They are not short of trying, though, as I described in my eBook chapter Itanglish - Italian food in English.
Last weekend, I saw this sign along the beach:
Sign in Itanglish[i-Sign in Itanglish]
It seems they did not do too well in French neither.
More posts on The Road about Living in Italy
Rumble: Living in Italy - Part 4: Customer Service
I wrote this last year, but never posted it. Here we go.
Fastweb at last[i-Fastweb at last]
Look at this. I am now the proud owner of a Fastweb ADSL modem with a WiFi interface in my Italian home. It only took me about four months to get connected.
Back in September, I picked up a Fastweb flyer from a booth at one of the shopping centers. Fastweb is one of Italy's main Internet Providers. The salesman checked online if my area could be connected to fast ADSL, and all seemed OK. He promised it would only take three weeks to get me online, even though I did not even have a physical telephone line in the house yet.
One thing you need to know about Italy: No matter how much I love this country, its culture, its food, its climate and its people, one thing they suck at is "service provision". So I was a bit suspicious about the guy's "three weeks".
The week after I got the flyer, I called the salesman, who wrote down my address, my credit card etc, and promised to get the connection request going.
After two weeks, nothing heard.
So I called him. The sales guy said: "No problem, all is OK! We are working on your request!". I answered: "But how can you start the connection procedure, I have not even signed the contract yet?". He answered: "But you gave your credit card number, so all is OK!".
Of course, nothing happened. A week went by without any news, and I called back to insisted on a copy of the contract so I could sign it. It took me three weeks to get a barely readable faxed copy.
Two weeks after signing the contract, still no sign of "connection"-life. The sales guy did not pick up my calls anymore, so I called the company. Nobody spoke English.
Vanessa, one of our admin assistants, was so kind to take over the phone and explain what I wanted: "The status of my connection request!". After 30 minutes, she put down the phone and sighed: "They can not find your original request..".
Two days later, without warning, a guy from Fastweb showed up in our office, and had me sign a new contract. Which I did.
To make a long story short, after many phone calls, with an increasingly aggravated Vanessa, (the poor thing!) trying to hold down her temper with the provider, I got an automatic phone call from the company asking to "Push 1 if my name was Peter...", "Push 2 if my mobile telephone number was..", "Push 1 if I indeed wanted to get an ADSL connection"...
A week later another automated phone call: "Push 1 if my name was Peter...",.. These calls kept on coming, once per day. At 8 pm, like clockwork: "Push 1 if my name was Peter...". But for the rest, not a peep from the company.
Vanessa started to call them again requesting for a status. And she called. And she called.
Six weeks later, out of the blue, a human being called me for an appointment to connect the telephone line. You have no idea of surprise and happiness. Even better: the guy actually showed up on the agreed day and time, and my telephone line was connected in a matter of minutes.
Five days later, someone else showed up to install the actual ADSL modem, and.. I was online...! In five months only!
I just tested the speed with this gimmick and I got 4,500 kbps download and 300-400 kbps upload. Not bad, if you realize I live in a pretty rural area... I am a happy camper! Have Internet, Will Blog!!
Customer Service[i-Customer Service]
Update 1 - One day after getting connected: Fastweb called "to make an appointment to connect my telephone line". I answered: "But you guys installed it yesterday!". They insisted this was not possible and wanted to come by to install the telephone line...
It turned out I now had TWO contracts with the company. And they kept on calling me..
Update 2 - One week after getting connected, Vanessa calls them to cancel one of the two contracts. Panic: they can't find the first contract anymore.
Update 3 - One month after getting connected: They call me. Vanessa is not around. In broken English, they ask me if I am connected. "Si!", I answer. If they can cancel one of the two contracts. "Si! Si!", I begged.
Update 4 - Six weeks after getting connected: An automated phone call at 8 pm: "Push 1 if my name was Peter...",..
What do you think? Should I install a second ADSL modem, just in case? :-)))
PS: Vanessa: I can not thank you enough for your help! Mmmmwah!
More posts on The Road about Living in Italy
Cartoon courtesy glasbergen.com
Rumble: Living in Italy - Part 3: Coffee
italian-espresso-736402[i-italian-espresso-736402]
It would be hard to think of Italy without coffee. "Caffè" (with the accent on the last part and with the 'è' pronounced as in the English "head") is part of the national heritage, much like the Colosseum or Pisa's tower.
Italy is home to a range of coffee drinks which took the rest of the world by storm. Without Italy, Starbucks or Second Cup probably would not exist.
Without coffee, Italy would grind to a halt. A day can not start without coffee, and a good meal often ends with it. Many companies have their own inhouse coffee bar including waiters and all. So just to make sure you understand: The Italians do take their "Caffè" seriously.
History:
link[i-link]The coffee culture arrived from the Middle East via Istanbul to Venice, in the 1570's. Coffee would remain a luxury and mostly medicinal drink until the 17th century saw the opening of the first European coffeehouse in Venice. This new fashion statement quickly spawned over two hundred other similar establishments along the Venetian canals and into the major cities of Italy.
Brewing coffee at home
link[i-link]While in many parts of the world, we perculate coffee (pouring hot water onto the grind), in Italian homes the Mama's use a "Moka" (or caffettiera). Coffee is put into a grind holder (needs to be full, right "E"? - That is not "E" but the "other E", ha!) which fits onto the part holding the water. After the top is screwed onto it, the whole is put on a stove. As the water starts boiling, steam from the bottom is forced through the grind into the top part. Work of a genius, this is.
Commercial espresso machines
link[i-link]Once we found an original espresso machine in Venice: a large complicated copper and brass complex set of boiler and pipes which works in principle the same as the caffettiera.
The modern version of the espresso machine has gone through a number of changes. Lately, it has all kinds of sensors and computing power combined with the "steam engine" to ensure the water holds the right pressure and temperature. Technology in function of traditions aside, it does feel strange to see espresso machines with digital displays on it.
Italian coffee etiquette
In most places in the world, you would go and take a table in a coffee bar, and patiently wait... to be waited upon. This is not the habit in Italy. Most people here drink their coffee standing at the bar on their way to work. Tables are mostly used in the weekends, when you go and have your coffee with the family. In most busy coffee bars you need to pay for your coffee at the cashier before proceeding to the bar to show your receipt before ordering. This confuses tourists who queue up at the bar before paying. I have seen many an American turned back direction of the cashier after queueing up politely for five minutes.
Once the barman holds you in favour as you showed your receipt, to order an espresso in Italy, you simply ask for a "caffe". You drink it as it is hot, in two or three sips at most.
It is a habit, no, more a culture, strong: a religion, in Italy, not to drink any coffee with milk in it after breakfast. Cappuccino or Caffe Latte orders after 11 am are often laughed at or joked with.
While coffee bar tenders in the big cities will frown when you order a Caffe Latte in the afternoon, and exchange a glance of "Ah, tourists!" with the people standing at the bar, they will still serve you - all be it - reluctantly.
In restaurants, though, you might get occasions where the waiter will simply not serve you a coffee with milk in the afternoon or evening. The more remote the place, the more "mama and papa"-type the restaurant, the more chance of getting accused for "sacrilege", turning that 'friendly hospitable waiter' into a rude tiran who wants nothing better than to see your backside as you walk out of the restaurant, while all you wanted was a "Cappuccino".
In Italy even just the evil thought of "coffee with milk" is an eternal sin, equal to ask for Parmiggiano cheese to go on your Spaghetti Con Vongole, but more on that later.
Oh, and before I forget: "Coffee to go" is a "no go" in Italy. No such thing as serving coffee in a foam cup with a lid a la Starbucks...
If you ask for a "Caffe Via", the best you will get is a coffee in a plastic cup, which often melts in your hands as you walk out of the establishment.
Just to give you how foreign the idea of "coffee to go" is in Italy: Laura, my neighbour owns the coffee shop below my appartment. The kids once went to get a "Caffe Latte Via" for Tine, and Laura tried to accommodate them the best she could: She rinced a small plastic fruit juice bottle, poured the "Caffe Latte Via" into it, and put the lid on it.
Coffee, Coffee, Coffee. Which is your vice?
A handful of Italian coffee servings:
- Caffe: Is known as "espresso" in other countries. This is the "normal serving" of coffee in Italy. Caffe, served in a small cup, is strong in taste with a rich bronze froth known as a crema on top.
- Caffe Ristretto (or "Ristretto", "Stretto"): More concentrated than a regular espresso, as it is made with less water.
- Caffe Lungo (or "Lungo"): An Espresso with more water – opposite a Ristretto. Often referred to as Caffe Americano, not to be mistaken with perculated coffee, which is typically how Americans (and many others for that matter) normally take their coffee.
- Caffe Macchiato ("Macchiato" in short): Espresso "marked" with a dollop of steamed milk on top.
- Caffe Corretto ("Corretto"): Espresso with cognac, grappa, or sambuca liquor.
- Cappuccino (or "Cappuccio"): Espresso partially steamed and foamed milk.
- Cappuccino Chiaro: Cappuccino prepared with more milk (but less than a caffe latte) and is lighter in color.
- Caffe Latte: Espresso made with more milk than a cappuccino but only a small amount of foam. In Italy this is the usually a breakfast drink.
- Latte Macchiato: Steamed milk with a small "dot" of espresso coffee.
- Caffe Freddo: iced coffee
- Caffe Hag (or "Caffe Decaffinato"): decaffeinated coffee
- Caffe Marocchino: Espresso with a bit of hot milk and cacao powder.
- Granita di caffè (con panna): Frozen, iced similar to a slush, with ice shavings make it authentic, often "con panna" (with whipped cream)
- Caffe d'Orzo: barley coffee, a non-caffeine coffee substitute (not actually coffee)
- Caffe Shakerato: An iced and sweetened espresso drink, call it a "Coffee Shake".
- Scuro: (e.g. Cappuccino scuro or Caffe Latte scuro) Cappuccino prepared with less milk and is a darker color.
- Doppio: (e.g. Caffe Doppio, Caffe Latte Doppio) serving with a double shot of espresso.
- Senza Schiuma: (e.g: Caffe Latte Senza Schiuma) is served with no foam.
- Bollente: (e.g. Cappucino Bollente) extra heated refers to the milk in the coffee and not to the temperature of the coffee itself.
In the morning, I drink a "Caffe Latte Doppio Scuro", at noon it is time for a "Caffe Lungo Macchiato", and after-dinner, a simple "Caffe" goes down well.
turkish coffee shop[i-turkish coffee shop]
More posts on "The Road" about Living in Italy
Pictures courtesy Johnlewis.com, auction.de. Text inspired by espressomakers.biz, Lifeinitaly.com. Read the full post...
Rumble: Living in Italy - Part 2: Italian Breakfast
breakfast[i-breakfast]
What is a typical Italian breakfast? People pass by a coffee shop on the road to work, and get a coffee and a cornetto (croissant). Not necessarily the healthiest of breakfasts, but it surely tastes good.
More posts on the Road about Living in Italy.
Rumble: Living in Italy - part 1: Italian Politics
Since I moved here last year, people ask me "So how is it to live in Italy"? This prompts me to a series of blogs I want to start, to describe live in this Mediterranean country.
First let me start with the disclaimer: I love the culture, the climate, its people, its food, and the country. I love Italy. Punto. But it is a country 'with an edge', which makes it fun at times, frustrating in other times. So I might come across as critical (or cynical at times), do bear in mind: I loooove Italy.
As the Italians will vote for parliament tomorrow, maybe we should start this blog series with Italian politics. I can summarize this topic in a oneliner: Italy had 61 governments since World War II. That is an average of about one government per year. That says it all.
Critics say the current electoral law gives disproportionate power to small parties in Parliament, making stable government nearly impossible. Proof of the matter: the recent withdrawal of a tiny centrist party from the governing center-left coalition brought down the already wobbly government of Prime Minister Romano Prodi. In no other democratic country "can a party with 1 percent of the vote topple a government," says Piergiorgio Corbetta, a professor of sociology at the University of Bologna. (Full)
So, Italian politics are an odd kid on the block of democracy. But then we have some of the actual Italian political odd balls.
link[i-link]One I remember well was porn star La Cicciolina, elected to parliament for five years in the late 1980s on a platform of environmentalism and free love. Yes, she was a candidate from the Green party. For her part, the actress offered to sleep with Saddam Hussein in 2002 if he co-operated with the United Nations, saying: "I would do it holding my nose and closing my eyes."
But we do not have to go back that far. Tomorrow's elections are almost certain to favor a return to power by Berlusconi. Yep, THE Silvio Berlusconi. Now 71, the prime minister from 2002 to 2006 and briefly in the mid-1990s, and the country's richest man, will represent the center-right conservatives.
While he does not have the physical impact of La Cicciolina, he does have a way with words. I guess a trio of him, Sarkozy and Bush, and world politics is good hands... Sigh.
link[i-link]Just recently, he hit the news as saying that when he looked round parliament, he found that female politicians from the right were "more beautiful". "The left has no taste, even when it comes to women." I hope that is not the only pilar of his political campaign.(Full)
More of a reference however are some of his historical quotes. A selection, some of which might have even the likes of Sarkozy and all-time-winner Bush Junior roll their eyes (Full list):
- Promising to put family values at the centre of his campaign: "I will try to meet your expectations, and I promise from now on, two-and-a-half months of absolute sexual abstinence, until [election day on] 9 April."
- At the Brussels summit, at the end of Italy's EU presidency, in December 2003:
"Let's talk about football and women." (Turning to four-times-married German Chancellor, Gerhard Schroeder.) "Gerhard, why don't you start?" - At the New York stock exchange: "Italy is now a great country to invest in... today we have fewer communists and those who are still there deny having been one. Another reason to invest in Italy is that we have beautiful secretaries... superb girls."
- On himself: "I don't need to go into office for the power. I have houses all over the world, stupendous boats... beautiful airplanes, a beautiful wife, a beautiful family... I am making a sacrifice." "I am the Jesus Christ of politics. I am a patient victim, I put up with everyone, I sacrifice myself for everyone."
- On a proposal to base an EU food standards agency in Finland, rather than the Italian city of Parma: "Parma is synonymous with good cuisine. The Finns don't even know what prosciutto is. I cannot accept this."
- In the wake of 11 September: "We must be aware of the superiority of our civilisation, a system that has guaranteed well-being, respect for human rights and - in contrast with Islamic countries - respect for religious and political rights, a system that has as its value understanding of diversity and tolerance... The West will continue to conquer peoples, even if it means a confrontation with another civilisation, Islam, firmly entrenched where it was 1,400 years ago."
- To German MEP Martin Schulz, at the start of Italy's EU presidency in July 2003:
"I know that in Italy there is a man producing a film on Nazi concentration camps - I shall put you forward for the role of Kapo (guard chosen from among the prisoners) - you would be perfect." - During the controversy raging over the above remark: "I'll try to soften it and become boring, maybe even very boring, but I am not sure I will be able to do it."
Pictures courtesy wikipedia and tothepeople.com. With thanks to "E" for the links. Read the full post...