The Italian Way of Life - Italy - page 1821

A Day in the Life of an Italian
Sveglia! You're woken not by an alarm but by the burble and clatter of the caffettiera, the
ubiquitous stovetop espresso-maker. You're running late, so you bolt down your coffee
scalding hot (an acquired Italian talent) and pause briefly to ensure your socks match be-
fore dashing out the door. Yet still you walk blocks out of your way to buy your morning
paper from Bucharest-born Nicolae, your favourite news vendor and (as a Romanian) part
of Italy's largest migrant community. You chat briefly about his new baby - you may be
late, but at least you're not rude.
On your way to work you scan the headlines: more coalition-government infighting, an-
other match-fixing scandal and an announcement of new EU regulations on cheese. Out-
rageous! The cheese regulations, that is; the rest is to be expected. At work, you're buried
in paperwork until noon, when it's a relief to join friends for lunch and a glass of wine.
Afterwards you toss back another scorching espresso at your favourite bar and find out how
your barista's latest audition went - turns out you went to school with the sister of the dir-
ector of the play, so you promise to put in a good word.
Back at work by 2pm, you multitask Italian-style, chatting with co-workers as you dash
off work emails, text your schoolmate about the barista on your telefonino (mobile phone)
and surreptitiously check l'Internet for employment listings - your work contract is due to
expire soon. After a busy day like this, aperitivi are definitely in order, so at 6.30pm you
head directly to the latest happy-hour hot spot. Your friends arrive, the decor is molto
design, the vibe molto cool and the DJ abbastanzahot, until suddenly it's time for your
English class - everyone's learning it these days, if only for the slang.
By the time you finally get home, it's already 9.30pm and dinner will have to be re-
heated. Peccato! (Shame!) You eat, absent-mindedly watching X Factor Italia while re-
counting your day and complaining about cheese regulations to whoever's home - no sense
giving reheated pasta your undivided attention. While brushing your teeth, you discuss the
future of Italian theatre and dream vacations in Anguilla, though without a raise, it'll prob-
ably be Abruzzo again this year. Finally you make your way to bed and pull reading mater-
ial at random out of your current bedside stack: art books, gialli (mysteries), a hard-hitting
Mafia exposé or two, the odd classic, possibly a few fumetti (comics). You drift off won-
dering what tomorrow might hold… Imagine if you woke up British or American. English
would be easier, but how would you dress and what would you be expected to eat? Ter-
ribile ! You shrug off that nightmare and settle into sleep. Buona notte .