All posts by Deirdre Straughan

Colpo di Fumo

I wrote earlier about Italian superstitions, including the dreaded colpo d’aria – a draft of cold air, blamed for everything from head colds to paralysis. Zeev responded:

“Christmas of ’87 was the first time I went to Italy. At that time I was living in Ticino [the Italian part of Switzerland] for an extended period; I have good memories from the area, but being in Mendrisio in the evenings is like being alone in the desert. A few days before Christmas, I realized that being there during the holiday season would be even worse, so I decided to use the time to see some people in Germany and Sweden.

I took the train to Köln. The cars were full of happy Italians travelling north for a vacation. There was one drawback to the company: everybody was smoking heavily. I had quit smoking about 10 years earlier, and had difficulty with smoke. I asked them to do me a favor and stop smoking in the compartment, but their understanding of the situation was that it was my problem, so I should leave the compartment – which of course wouldn’t solve a thing, as the corridors were also full of smoking Italians. So I opened the window. To my surprise, everybody fled the compartment within seconds. Now I finally know why: colpo d’aria.”


I wish that approach worked for me. We often find ourselves surrounded by smokers at restaurants, but occasionally we also happen to be near a window. If we open it, however, someone is bound to whine about the corrente (draft), a complaint which is always considered reasonable, whereas our complaining about smoke is not taken in the same spirit. One of the few things I miss about life in the United States, and especially California, is the lack of smoke. I will be relieved when Europe catches up.

Which may take a while. Italian restaurateurs are up in arms over a new anti-smoking law, due to come into effect next January, which will force them to create ventilated smoking areas physically separated from non-smoking areas.

A few larger restaurants already have non-smoking sections, though it can be difficult to get seated in them. One place we used to frequent had such an area, but closed it off sometimes when there was a shortage of waiters. Recently, at another restaurant, they didn’t want to seat only three of us in the non-smoking section, because the tables were set for four or five. I had to insist that we were non-fumatori accaniti (ferocious non-smokers). One very good pizzeria near our former home in Milan never had a problem seating us in one of its two large non-smoking rooms, though these were always more crowded than the smoking area. It seems that there is unmet demand, even in Italy, for smoke-free dining.

Sadly, smoking is still very much in vogue here, and socially accepted even for 13- and 14-year-olds. Many kids consider it a declaration of adulthood, and begin as soon as they reach high school, if not earlier. As far as I can tell, their parents don’t even try to combat it, and tobacconists have no qualms about selling cigarettes to young kids. Rossella is one of few non-smokers in her class (students are allowed to smoke on school grounds, although, as of this year, not inside the building); by now she’s made such a fuss about her friends smoking that she’d look like a complete idiot if she ever tried it (good!).


Feb 9, 2004

From March 1st, smoking will be completely banned on all Eurostar and Intercitytrains in Italy. It is already banned on all most regional (local) trains, which leads to scenes of smokers lined up at the door, cigarettes already in hand, as the train pulls into the station. They barely get one foot on the platform before they light up, one after another, hurrying away in a desperately-puffing line.


Apr 16, 2004

I’m pretty certain that Italy’s new rules about non-smoking sections in restaurants will only come into force next January, but, to my surprise and delight, several of our favorite restaurants have already gone completely non-smoking. It appears that some restaurant owners and staff were glad to have the excuse. I wish Austria were as forward-looking. We didn’t get to enjoy any of Vienna’s centuries-famous coffee bars; every one we stepped into reeked of stale smoke and beer. So we ended up at Starbucks, that bastion of American cultural imperialism, where smoking was not allowed.


Apr 27, 2004

I finally asked a bar owner why some bars and restaurants have already gone totally non-smoking; I thought the law didn’t go into effect til next year. He explained that the law actually went into effect THIS January, requiring all public places to have a completely separate and ventilated room for smokers, or to ban smoking completely. Those who choose to separate out the smokers have a year’s grace period in which to do the construction; those who have no such intention are supposed to already be completely non-smoking. Of course, this being Italy, there are probably some (many?) who have not yet done anything and will claim, if asked, that they intend to build a smoking section by next January, when in fact they have no such intention (or ability – some places are simply too small), and are just buying themselves and their smoking customers another year.

Interestingly, the recent ban on smoking in pubs in Ireland seems to have gone down well, in spite of strident protests before it went into effect. It was widely supported before the fact by the union of pub employees, and many customers seem now to find that they actually prefer their pubs without smoke. The die-hards are reportedly organizing booze-and-smoking parties in their own homes, which will cause the pubs to lose business (and the neighbors to complain), but won’t damage the alcohol industry.

The Italian Proposal

Enrico and I maintained a long-distance relationship for over two years; he was doing his PhD at Yale, I was working in Washington, DC. At first, we saw each other about once a month, then about every three weeks, then about every two weeks… Luckily, there was an airline price war on in those days, and a roundtrip NYC-DC could be had for as little as $59 (DC-NYC cost more, I suppose because more DC residents wanted to escape to New York for the weekend than vice-versa).

We took our first vacation together in the spring of 1987. Neither of us could afford much more than airfare, so we flew to Texas and stayed with my aunt Rosie, in Coupland, about an hour’s drive outside Austin. One night we were driving back from Austin, not knowing that there had been a fatal accident on the county road the night before, and the local police were jumpy. We got pulled over because Enrico, true to his Italian heritage, was speeding. Worried about the culture clash I thought likely to ensue, and how much it might cost us, I started to get out to go around the car and talk to the nice policeman.

“Get back in that car!” he yelled. The road was very dark; he was concerned about someone driving into me. He talked to Enrico for some time, then came around to my side of the car.

“Where did he say he was from?” asked the policeman.

“He’s from Italy.”

“Well, you tell him that we don’t drive that way in Texas.” And he let us go – without a ticket.

My first visit to Italy was Christmas, 1987. I don’t now remember much about it, except being intensely frustrated that Italians, when in a group with other Italians, will not speak anything EXCEPT Italian – regardless of whether that leaves someone (me) completely out of the conversation. Which did provide motivation for me to learn Italian, though this was difficult to do well, with only weekly evening classes at the US Department of Agriculture (why the Dept. of Ag. sponsors language classes is a mystery to me, but they do, and that’s how I started).

For spring break ’88, we went to California. It was either on the flight over or the flight back that Enrico finally proposed. Well, sort of. He didn’t actually say: “Will you marry me?” or anything of the kind. What he said was: “I’d like to have children with you.”

“Uh, okay, but aren’t we missing a step?”

So we agreed to get married, at some unspecified future date.

It seems that this is not an unusual way for an Italian man to propose. Another American woman married to an Italian told me that her husband “proposed” in much the same words; they now have three lovely daughters. And Enrico and I have just had our 15th anniversary. Well, one of our two anniversaries. But that’s another story.

  1. The Italian Proposal
  2. Tanzania Surprise
  3. Coca-Cola, and an Ostrich
  4. Justice of the Peace

Hardworking Italians

I’ve seen several reports recently of studies showing that Italians have more vacation days than anyone else in the world, except maybe the French. Most regularly-employed Italians during a year enjoy some long weekends, even longer Christmas and Easter breaks, and several weeks’ vacation in the summer. However, I’d like to see a study of total HOURS worked in a year. A normal workday for many is 8 or 9 am to 8 or 9 pm, and the leisurely two-hour lunch is a thing of the past, at least in northern Italy. A senior manager in Milan to whom I was teaching English last year worked from 9 am to 8 pm, Monday through Friday, with only a half-hour break for lunch. When anti-smoking rules were enforced, it was a real problem for him to take a five-minute break every two hours to go out and have a cigarette. Plus, he worked every Saturday from 9 to 1. By the time he got away on vacation, he certainly needed and deserved it.

Woodstock History Resources

I’ve been doing lots of reading for the Woodstock history project, including some books that may be interesting even to non-Woodstockers. I was excited to finally lay hands on the journal of Fanny Parkes, an Englishwoman who lived in India from the 1820s to 40s. She was the first person to write about Mussoorie and Landour (the Himalayan town which is the site of the school), so is quoted in many of my sources, but her book has been out of print since 1850. It has now finally been republished (under the title “Begums, Thugs & White Mughals”), thanks, I suspect, to William Dalrymple, author of “White Mughals” (another source I’m using). Fanny was an amazing woman who travelled extensively in India and enjoyed everything and everyone she encountered, at a time when it was becoming unfashionable among the British to like anything much about the country they were taking over. Her book is rich in detail about life in India in those times, an excellent source for all kinds of research.

For current news for Mussoorie and Uttaranchal, see The Garhwal Post.

Amazon US Store

Amazon UK links below; note that some items available in the UK are not available in the US, and vice-versa. 

Amazon UK:

Alter, Joseph S. Knowing Dil Das: Stories of a Himalayan Hunter
Alter, Robert C. Water for Pabolee: Stories about People and Development in the Himalayas
Alter, Stephen All the Way to Heaven: An American Boyhood in the Himalayas
Barr, Pat The Memsahibs: In Praise of the Women of VictorianIndia
Bond, Ruskin Mussoorie & Landour
Bond, Ruskin Mussoorie & Landour: Days of Wine & Roses
Bond, Ruskin Mussoorie: Jewel of the Hills
Dalrymple, William White Mughals: Love and Betrayal in 18th-Century India
James, Lawrence Raj: The Making and Unmaking of British India
Keay, John The Great Arc: The Dramatic Tale of How India was Mapped and Everest was Named
Kennedy, Dane Keith The Magic Mountains: Hill Stations and the British Raj
Parkes, Fanny Begums, Thugs, and White Mughals – The Journals of Fanny Parkes, selected and introduced by William Dalrymple (Originally published in 1850 as “Wanderings of a Pilgirm in Search of the Picturesque, during four-and-twenty years in th tEast; with Revelations of Life in the Zenana”)
Pollock, David and Van Reken, Ruth E. The Third-Culture Kid Experience: Growing Up Among Worlds
Riddle, Katharine Parker A Nourishing Life
Van Reken, Ruth Letters Never Sent
Yule, Henry and Burnell, A.C. Hobson-Jobson: The Anglo-Indian Dictionary

Service With(out) a Smile

I’ve bitched at length about Telecom Italia and Tiscali (my current and past Internet service providers), and the lack of customer service nous shown by both. Foreigners in Italy often complain that Italians generally don’t have a concept of customer service, and I’d have to say that’s a fair assessment, amply demonstrated in most chain stores, supermarkets, Ikea, etc.

If you want good customer service, go to the backbone of the Italian economy: the family-owned business. For 12 years in Milan I bought bread, meat, fruit & veg., cleaning supplies, school supplies, ice cream and coffee from our neighborhood shops. All of these were owned by individuals or families, though some had a few non-family employees, and some changed hands over time. We built up relationships with the shopowners. They saw us move into the neighborhood as a young couple. Some used to call us the sposini – newlyweds – because we shopped together, which they found terribly cute. They saw our daughter grow up. Every one had an onboard “database” of customer information, knew our tastes and preferences, and could therefore serve us faster and better.

I shopped at supermarkets only rarely, mostly for things I couldn’t get at the smaller shops. Supermarkets are often cheaper, but to me they were not worth the standing in line and the impersonality (some smaller supermarkets do manage to be friendlier).

I was afraid I’d feel lost when we moved to Lecco, having to re-establish my network of suppliers, but it hasn’t been a problem. I’ve become a regular at some shops, albeit a new regular, and the owners already know me, or at least they act as if they do. And, even if they don’t know me, they are courteous; as owners, they have a direct and compelling interest in my return.

What Italians have yet to develop is a sense of ownership in “mere” employees, especially of large and chain stores. I’ve had some terrible experiences at Ikea,Upim, and Coin (the latter two are chain department stores). American stores are almost all chains, but they have customer service down to a fine art: everyone smiles and greets you in every store you enter; in some grocery stores I’ve been positively spooked by the number of employees offering to help me (maybe I look lost). You could say that this is false friendliness designed to get more money out of you, but that’s what a store is all about, isn’t it?

update: Customer service at Ikea in Italy has vastly improved