Imagine

 On Monday morning, I took myself on an outing. It's not that I don't enjoy spending every hour of my life with my husband.......But, I have done Italy solo. I've spent many, many hours alone here, days on end, living in my own self-imposed cloister, and well, I never complained.

We've been in Italy almost a month. I'm totally fine with some guiltless "me-time" and so, I went the distance and took off for a bit of harmless shopping.  It's been unseasonably cold here and we, anticipating a long stay with a washing machine at our disposal, packed light. We left the Cape, sharing with each other the joy of not "lugging" Winter clothing, hats, scarves, gloves, that we have in the past. While we each could have brought another whole suitcase, we confined our items to only one each. And so, not even a decent sweater. By Monday, I had run out of layers and needed a change of scenery in the clothing world. What turned out to be a great referral found me walking down the Via San Francesco on my way to a shop for locals, owned by a young local who, coincidentally, was having a sale! I am now happy to say that I own a new black turtleneck sweater, my Winter uniform, and a few other lovely items. Surely, the weather will change and all will have been in naught but it felt good being out there again.

In addition to at least a gazillion foods and the production of countless handmade and homegrown products that are held as tradition, Italy has so many more charming traditions and if you rush through al la Disney World, you may miss them. Taking the time, moving slowly with both eyes and ears open, sweet things happen. Take nothing for granted. You will soon realize that there are some things that occur that may be anathema to your time and place but are common here. One of those comes in a simple social habit that almost  with certainty allows one to know if another is local or on a one-week whirlwind through the country. It's the greeting of a stranger, a passerby in the street, the "buongiorno" which can also be a "ciao" or a "salve" depending upon your relationship to, or the causality of ,the greeter. In the afternoon, the word switches to "buona sera" and later to "buona notte". But, it's never missing. 

I hadn't really thought about the training involved in keeping this custom alive. Took it for a big old granted. Until Monday morning on the Via San Francesco. Coming up the street, little kindergarten-aged children, their school smocks peeking out under their coats, hand in hand, accompanied by their teachers. Their sweet little voices filled the narrow street as they filed past and as they neared......the little "bongiorno's" started, in some cases prodded by their teachers and in others, tiny bravissimos already upon the scene. There's always one kid in the crowd who needs nothing in the way of encouragement. Was this a training mission? Is this how tiny Italians learn the art of being pleasant (at least at the start of the day)? 

I could not help but think about this scene in middle America. Marching a group of tiny tots down the middle of the busiest street in the town, having boys hold hands with boys, girls with girls. Not one mobile phone visible, teachers engaged with children instead, prompting them to offer a smile and a "good morning" to complete strangers approaching them. Heads up, eye contact. Can you imagine the angry parents, their notes to the teachers, the meeting with the School Board? 

Can you imagine? 

Imagine (R.I. P. John Lennon)