Three months have past since we began the life of Ex-Patriots living in Italy. This blog has generated some inquiries on how we came to make this significant change in our lives. Many have said they emotionally found the idea appealing but could not quite get up any real momentum to make it happen. The question often is, “How did we come to do it?” In honesty, it is something we still talk about and are not quite sure we yet adequately understand the whole process ourselves. In an effort to respond to those who have asked the question, we are offering a few thoughts we have considered in trying to grasp how we got here. High on the list to making something like this work for us has been a commonality of desire and conviction. Several people who have asked how we got here have acknowledged that their other significant partner did not quite share the dream. So let us say at the outset that for us having someone to do this with, as a committed life partner, has been an incredibly important factor in being able to ride through the inevitable frustrations. In our case, having a commonality of goal and commitment to see it through as a partnership, has probably been a make-or-break element. We won’t pretend to have a ‘one-size-fits-all’ solution for doing what we have done. We wouldn’t presume to suggest that someone, on their own, couldn’t make something like this work. All we know is that it is very comforting to be walking strange new streets hand-in-hand with someone you care deeply about. Our relationship is a core factor in our sense of security. For us, this is very much a team effort. Perhaps next on the list is we needed something to shake us out of our comfort zone. When travelling in the past, we used to talk about living in Europe but, frankly, we were much too comfortable in our cozy suburban lives. Then along came the financial crisis of 2007-2008. Like so many other people in retirement, a system that we trusted evaporated a chunk of the financial resources we thought we could count on after so many years of...

I freely admit the obvious; I am in that category of individuals classified as a ‘Senior Citizen.’ On the whole, I like to think I have been adjusting generally well to this change in status. But occasionally I get reminded that I may have become just a little out of ‘synch’ with some of what is going on around me. In order to not look like a totally unredeemable curmudgeon, I need to also confess I am completely out of step with what seems to be broadly accepted, contemporary entertainment trends. I should have absolutely no expectation that my antediluvian tastes and preferences have any relevance whatsoever. But that reality has never deterred me from the ‘old fart prerogative’ of railing on matters about which others wish I would just go away and shut up. It seems there are signs that a couple of generations have come along and become the new trend and fashion setters. Back in the U.S., I learned how to pick and choose among the entertainment options to minimize the intra-generational disconnections. But now I am in the process of determining how best to fit into contemporary Italian culture. So more entertainment experimental dabbling is currently going on than I might have risked in the more familiar nine time zones west. Here in the midst of architectural treasures reflecting multiple centuries, the town of Ascoli Piceno is determined to also show a more contemporary face. During the warm summer evenings when the main town squares become the community living rooms and meeting places, there is a free entertainment event almost every evening. And these events are most often accurately described in Italian as a spettacolare – a spectacular event. This includes a raised stage, incredible lighting complete with smoke generators and of course, a mega-sound system. Actually, back in the U.S., I didn’t go to many movies because by the time I stuffed almost an entire wadded Kleenex into my ears to protect my aged eardrums, I lost some of the dialogue when it was presented at anything less than the sound of a jet turbine engine at full operational level. Needless to say, unlike some of my generation, I didn’t frequent many Pop Music...

It is August, the hottest month of the year in Italy. July was quite nice – 80’s in the daytime and 70’s at night and almost no rain. Since the last week of July the temperature has been increasing and is now in the high 90’s and humid. We are told this is when the hot wind from the Sahara blows through (an Italian Santa Anna, but with higher humidity). It was mentioned in an earlier post that July brought several parades through the town streets with an increasing number of locals dressed in authentic medieval costumes. Following each of these parades there is a competitive event. These competitions were held in Medieval times as a way to keep the townspeople battle-ready. The Quintana was resurrected in 1955 by local historians and has been held every year since with increasing popularity country-wide.  It is also filmed for television. The competitions are between the six communities (Sestieri) of the town laid out according to ancient town planning. The July competitions are in flag waving (Sbandieratori) and archery, all free and open to the townspeople and the tourists. Because we arrived too late we had to view the Sbandieratori competition through the crook of someone’s arm, however, we got some great casual shots behind the bleachers.  The last competition, held the first weekend in August and requiring a ticket purchase, is The Joust of the Quintana (La Giostra Sella Quintana). The rivalry between the Sestieri is very real (when competing) with fans in face paint, tee shirts, and bandanas just like any other sport. Larry and I are not sports fans, as many of you know, but jousting may be our sport. It is considered a great honor to be able to participate in the parade or any of these events representing your Sestiere. If you happen to win any of the events for your Sestiere, well let’s just say you will have a very good year. There are more saints than there are days of the year and each Italian town claims a patron saint of their own. That saint’s “day” becomes a holiday for the town and is marked by celebrations – religious and otherwise. I can’t imagine that...

There is so much we take for granted in our everyday lives. Many of the little things have enough consistency in how they work that you don’t really have to think about them – until they are different. Even if you have travelled before, the reflexive mindset probably doesn’t consider changing its orientation to differences all that much because, in due course, you are going ‘home’ to the automatically familiar. But once ‘home’ becomes a different place, it is funny how some of the little, every day things that seemed automatic have to be rethought. The following is just one area that comes to mind that is currently being ‘re-thought.’ Space – the territorial imperative. As an American, I grew up assuming there was a certain amount of physical territory surrounding me that I could rely upon as something of a safety zone or buffer between my physical being and the rest of the world. On the other hand, Europeans have been dealing with a much higher population density for much longer than we Americans. They seem to have congregated themselves quite early into more densely packed communities for mutual support and security. As a result, in comparison with we Americans, the idea of a personal space and privacy entitlement appears to have become less imbedded into the European psyche. Now that we are starting to settle into Italy, we are coming to feel our surrounding ‘territorial imperative’ bubble has shrunk. There is nothing personal in what might otherwise be thought of as an ‘assault on my territory.’ It is simply we are among people who have accommodated to being more densely concentrated than we have been accustomed to. Take for example walking on ancient, narrow cobblestone streets. These thoroughfares, most often minus sidewalks, are shared by people – some walking dogs or pushing strollers and others stopping in groups to chat – plus cars, both in motion and some, more-or-less parked, and then there are the two-wheeled vehicles, mostly noisily motorized and going fast. As a result, while walking as close to walls and sort-of parked vehicles as you can, you are passed by cars, motorcycles, motorbikes and motor scooters – plus bicycles – and other people. Space...

Shopping

By Larry & Arlene on Aug 4, 2013 in Blog | 7 comments

TIGRE – grocery store chains here are a little different than the U.S. (very similar to Costa Rica, Linda). I’ve seen three different chains here in Ascoli. Mine closes in the afternoon at about 2:00, reopens about 5 and closes again about 8 PM. They are much smaller with a meat department with a real butcher (there’s very little in the way of packaged fresh meats), a person behind the cheese, sausage, fresh bread counter, and a fresh vegetable/fruit person. There is only one isle of personal care items and one of paper products and cleaning supplies. You do not touch the fresh vegetables/fruits with your bare hands. There are plastic gloves provided or you can ask the vegetable/fruit person to help you. You take your produce to that person and they weigh it, bag it (if you did not) and put the price on it. The first time we went into our store around the corner I did remember not to touch the produce with my hands, but forgot that we were supposed to have it weighed before reaching the check-out. So got to use the term “stupido Americani” when the clerk had to go to the back of the store to weigh my bananas while three people waited behind us. I knew he was thinking it, so I figured a little self-deprecating humor was in order-and he did smile. Meanwhile, Larry shopped the liquor department and we looked like we were expecting some long ago grape shortage to hit that week. You also bring your own bags or pay for them, so that day we bought three bags and loaded them up (which you do yourself). Old habits die hard – no car to throw it all in – but luckily we only had to schlep the heavy bags a block. We have been in several times since then and he looks at us, pleasantly, like he thinks we missed our plane home. OASI – however, in contrast, yesterday we took to bus to the huge Wal-Mart type store outside of town, Oasi. The temperature was in the high 90’s and too hot and too crowded (lots of people here for the Quintana this weekend) to stay...

The other day Larry and I decide to get out of town and take the train to the beach community on the Adriatic directly east, San Benedetto. Now when someone says “go to the beach” to me, I’m in my swimsuit sunscreen in hand ready to enjoy the sun and sand. When I asked Larry whether he wanted to wear his swimsuit or carry it, I was informed this was just a scouting trip. Somewhat deflated I had him promise we could at least have a long relaxed seafood lunch by the ocean. We get an early start, grab our cappuccino and cornetto at our now favorite cafe, and walk to the bus stop to look for a bus to the train station. It is not obvious which bus goes to the train station, so Larry (in his improving daily Italian) asks a sweet old lady if the #1 bus goes to the station. She said yes, but in a round-about way. We figured great, a free tour – and it was. However, we never saw the train station and got a sinking feeling when we realized we were the only passengers left on the bus and the driver just go off and disappeared. Clearly we were at the end of the line and in a town somewhere in the outskirts of Ascoli that we never heard of. So we wait for the driver to return from his shopping and do what we should have done in the beginning, ask the driver which is the bus to the train station. He tells us that bus will be along in 40 minutes, so we sit on the wall and wait. Also remembering that if you are in doubt and ask the driver, he’ll also let you know when to get off. (No, they do not have signs or recorded announcements on the buses to let you know upcoming stops.) Lesson learned, but we now walk to the train station because it’s faster. Mind you the bus only gets as close as two blocks from the station, which is why we missed it before. We were expecting the bus to pull up to or at least within sight of the station....

A lot has happened and we haven’t been in town two weeks yet. It is Thursday of our second week and we applied for a checking account at BNL nine working days ago. Busy with the whole apartment thing, we had managed to stay out of the bank an entire week to let them work it out. Having received no phone call, as promised, Larry is beside himself. We get the fact that they need to be sure we are not terrorists or money laundering, but it’s just a checking account! Thursday morning we dress to impress and go into the bank. We walk into the office of one of the gentlemen that helped us the first day. He looks at us sheepishly and says he still has not heard anything from Rome (which we translate into no one wanted to be the one to tell us the bad news). At this point it seems we are asking for something “outside the box” and no one in this office has the authority to act independently. He honestly feels bad he can’t make it happen. We tell him we will just have to go to another bank, and he agrees that is probably the best course. Well now Larry is really worried wondering what bank to start over with. I mentioned before that we aren’t particularly religious but as we are walking through the Piazza del Popolo that day the door to the Church of Saint Frances is open and Larry decides we should go in. We had planned to tour the 26 churches in the city once we had “business” done, but had not stepped foot in a single one of them until now. Coincidence? I wonder. That afternoon we had an appointment with Cinzia V., to sign some paperwork and we explain our dilemma and ask if she has any suggestions where we might try next. She makes a couple phone calls and in walks a nice friend of Cinzia’s who speaks English and works for Pfizer. Then the four of us walk to the Bank of Rome (UniCredit/Banca di Roma) across Piazza Roma and into the office of the Regional Manager. Cinzia begins to explain what we...

Via San Guiliano

By Larry & Arlene on Jul 29, 2013 in Blog | 5 comments

We had been looking at apartments for rent in the area on the internet for several months, and walked all over Ascoli in the previous week, so we weren’t going into this totally uninformed. We had typed up a list of what we definitely needed, in order of importance, and what we wanted to pay. About fourth on the list was “light and airy.” Our temporary apartment is wonderful, conveniently located, very thoughtfully furnished and equipped (to include an expresso machine). However, it is essentially a beautiful stone cave with one window and a door. On the hottest days it stays very cool but is lit mostly by artificial light and we have to close the one window most nights due to the street noise. I am an unashamed spoiled southern Californian used to large quantities of sunshine. I told Larry that if we had to live for the long-term in a place this dark I was certain to fall into a deep depression and might kill him in his sleep. The requirement of “light and airy,” not surprisingly, moved to the top of our list. Cinzia V. zeroed in immediately on a place that was everything we wanted and much more. The price was 100 Euros more than we wanted to pay, but we agreed to see it that afternoon. In the meantime Cinzia V. called on a friendly British client of her’s to join us and serve as a translator. He had actually looked at the apartment in his search so he was familiar with it. We leave Cinzia V.’s office on Piazza Roma (a small piazza between the two larger ones) and walk a very few blocks to Via San Giuliano named after the church at the end of the street. The first thing we notice is that the street in front of the building is blocked to vehicles, yes! The second is that the outside wall of the apartment building is covered with a “liberty style” fresco from the early 1900’s, kool, and there is a huge south-facing window, way kool. Then the owner of the apartment greets us to let us in. Once again, he was right out of central casting – 80ish, short,...

Friends of friends, a good way to get things done most any place in the world. But in Italy, it is pretty much the ONLY way to get things done. Research, planning, attention to detail and persistence have gotten us pretty far in daily life in the U.S. Italians, so we were told by one person, don’t really trust people they don’t know. So planning and detail won’t overcome that. Persistence, so we discovered, is actually viewed by the Italians as a bit offensive. I guess it is perceived as indicating they are not living up to our expectations. So here we must learn to deal with domani (tomorrow) and go with the flow. A real challenge for two control freaks but not totally unexpected. Larry and I are not particularly religious but there have been times during this last year that we were sure some force was guiding us and clearing the way for this grand adventure. We seem to have an equivalent here in Italy which we call our “Italian Angel”, which seemed appropriate in this setting, and she has been working double-time since we arrived in Ascoli. On our second business day in Italy our mission was to find where to obtain monthly bus passes. After a couple misses we were directed to a branch of the comune located on Piazza Arringo that handles some transportation issues. We enter and ask the first person we see if she speaks English. She refers us to a very pleasant gentleman, Mario, who doesn’t speak English either (but we discover later he lives upstairs from our landlord next door to us and is an expert adviser on local restaurants). He takes us to his boss, Cinzia, our first in-the-flesh Italian Angel, and we instantly hit it off. She speaks some English and understands much more and her attitude is “it’s good, we need the practice.” She explained that even though Italians must take two years of English in school, since there are few English speakers in Ascoli, they quickly loose their skills. When we told her we were settling in Ascoli she looked at us and asked the inevitable question “why?” When we told her because there were no...

It is a unique experience to finally arrive in a distant place where we have chosen to live when the decision to live here was reached from far away. The choosing process was done in a very contemporary way; research was largely done on the Internet. A combination of Google searches, augmented by Email exchanges with English speaking Ex-Patriots in the region, and not to mention the on-the-ground explorations via Google Earth, created a sense of familiarity with the prospective new home. But as everyone knows in advance, being there in person adds the final and most critical dimension. Carried forward by the momentum of so many decisions and actions, such as selling a home and deciding what little is to go on the pilgrimage and what is worth storing, is being carried on a tide of ones own initiating. It needed to be decided at the outset whether or not the commitment to follow through was really there. Because once the process was set in motion it became very difficult to turn back. There is a wonderful core element in our marriage; our communication with each other is easy, fluid and includes the ability to talk feely about dreams and wishes for the future. A common theme in so many of our travels has been to ask, “I wonder what it is like to really live here?” In our travels, we gravitated from the use of hotels to a preference for living independently in rented apartments and also to having more direct experience with the people of a new place by choosing to stay in an Italian Agriturismo. We have found more in depth, direct personal experience of new places much richer than seems possible in being a ‘tourist’ in the more traditional sense. That inclination has fuelled the desire to immerse ourselves in places we have had limited time to really understand and experience in depth in the past. And now, life in Italy has begun. In over about a year, we have gone from, “What would you think about . . ?”, to stepping off a sleepless, overnight flight into Rome and having our hired van and driver deliver us to our new home town –...