Tomorrow I say goodbye to Lido di Camaiore. (Cue the Hallelujah Chorus!!) I'm finally heading to Florence, aka the Promised Land.
Oh, Lido. Tomorrow will be bittersweet, I guess. Actually, who am I kidding-it's completely sweet. This was an ideal place to practice the language since it's virtually tourist-free, so I guess that's why they brought us here. But AIFS could probably be sued for false advertising. On the itinerary they sent us before we left, Lido di Camaiore was described as "A small, delightful Tuscan village along the sandy shoreline, Lido de Camaiore's streets are dotted with charming shops and cafes." But we have basically been living in a much smaller, somewhat smellier, and certainly sketchier version of Miami.
I've given poor Lido a terrible review on this blog, and I'm starting to feel a little (just a LITTLE) sorry for the poor town. I figure half the reason I've been so hard on the town is because I've been anxious to no longer be cooped up with all the American students for orientation. I figured the day before I depart for Florence would be an opportune time to tell little funny tidbits about the town that I found interesting, weird, or just worth sharing, but never really fit into a post.
1.) Lido LOVES Katy Perry. (More specifically, "California Gurls.")
OK, so this song was clearly Katy's effort to practically force-feed West Coast girls a new "anthem." But the fact that Italians were obviously not Katy's intended audience does NOT faze residents of Lido one bit. They LOVE this song like no other despite having no connection to California whatsoever. It's unreal. While in Lido I have heard it at least once daily. It started playing here just MOMENTS after I started writing this paragraph-I'm not even kidding. Perfect timing. There have been days where I've heard it literally 5 times, and we're talking in 5 different places-it's not like I'm just sitting hanging out by the radio. One morning I heard it playing in a little coffee bar before class. After class, I walked down the block to grab lunch, and Snoop Dogg's groovy contribution to the song greeted me as I walked into the pizzeria. *THEN* I walked 2 blocks down to my favorite gelateria, the one with the random penguin picture in the window, and before I'd even gotten the words "Tre gusti, per favore" out of my mouth, Katy was already serenading me. The woman behind the counter was clearly enjoying it, too. And when Katy sang "West Coast represent, now put your hands up," the woman heeded this request as if it were the call to prayer toward Mecca. She dropped the gelato scoop; I watched it tumble to the floor as she threw her arms in the air, and in that moment I swear we were both Golden Coast natives. Okay, if that last part about her dropping the scoop sounded too good to be true-it is. I made it up. But wouldn't that have been too perfectly hilarious if it actually happened? I will say that the gelato woman was clearly enjoying the tune, and I have to admit, I don't hate the fact that I hear it everywhere here.
2.) Lido men love popping their collars.
I once thought that popping one's collar was a trend reserved for Hollister-clad eighth grade males, desperate for attention from girls, acceptance by the bros, and banishment of unfortunate bacne. Then with the advent of Jersey Shore and the sudden guido/fist pumping-party phenomenon that swept the nation (or at least the Fiji house in Sewanee), I was reminded that there ARE actually other people in the world who pop their collars...people who one would assume to be older and wiser, but who actually turn out to be named Pauly D or Ronnie (read: older, not wiser). And WHOA, was I reminded of that after landing in Pisa and then arriving in Lido. These men pop their collars with pride-you never see one side drooping even slightly; the collars look professionally starched. And the Multiple-Polo Layered Pop is also a style staple-only for those who are really serious. One would hope that the Florentine men will have a more tasteful and elevated sense of style, but "one" would also be entertained if the men there also dress like this. Either way, "one" (I) won't be disappointed.
3.) I enjoyed the vegetable vendor.
Picture this: it's a normal day in class. But not college class-flash back to high school, and think of that one class (or classes) that just seemed to drag on forever, despite the fact that it was no longer than any of your other classes. You're slumping in your chair, your mind wandering to the proverbial LaLa Land, eyes glazed over, mouth open, and, most likely, some drool dribbling down your chin. It's shameless drooling, though, because everyone around you looks exactly the same as you. Well, this is how the fourth hour of our Italian class is-daily.
Now picture the drab monotony of that class being suddenly and shockingly interrupted by a frighteningly loud voice outside. The mystery voice is yelling indecipherable Italian phrases with a scary sense of urgency usually reserved for life-or-death situations. AND this voice is being broadcast over a loudspeaker (or so we thought the first time we heard it).
Naturally, the first time this occurrence interrupted class, all of the students woke up from our Classroom Comas and sat terrified in our seats, looking expectantly to our teacher for instructions. All those fourth grade fire drills seemed to prepare us very well to "Stop, look, and listen" in emergency situations. But Giovanna kept babbling on about possessive adjectives until someone finally yelped desperately, "What the $%^& is going on?!"
She gave us a puzzled look before realizing we were OBVIOUSLY referring to the scary noises outside. Mussolini, back from the grave with a vengeance? Terrorist attack? Was this some twisted method the unknown mayor of Lido di Camaiore used to announce emergency situations town-wide? Nope...Giovanna smiled and said, "Oh! Si! The veg-tav-al man!"
Translation: A man selling vegetables, ice cream truck style. Only instead of playing creepily alluring little music-box tunes from the truck to announce his arrival, he YELLS through the megaphone to advertise his merchandise to the entire neighborhood. It's terrifying the first time you hear it.
Giovanna reassured us that all was well and that he would be nearing the school soon, so we could look out the window and know that we were safe and that it was only a vegetable vendor making the noise. And she was right; just moments later, I saw a little white truck, megaphone clipped to the window, flying down the residential road opposite the school and then making a mad dash into our parking lot. The man then drove in circles, practically spinning, still yelling through the megaphone about inexpensive, fresh pomodori and...other vegetables (just realized that "tomato" is the only vegetable name I actually know in Italian, and it's technically not even a veg. Whatever.)
Once the man got the message that no one from the school was going to buy anything, he drove away from the school, and dust clouds actually formed behind him, no joke.
Day by day, we got used to this routine. The veg-tav-al man didn't interrupt class every day, but he did it enough to where it began to seem normal, and eventually we all became like Giovanna and were able to somehow tune out the ridiculousness that was happening outside. What intrigued me most about the veg-tav-al man was that in all the times he drove through the neighborhood, I never saw anyone buy anything from the truck or even stop him. Come to think of it, I never even saw him actually stop the truck himself. He just blew through the area yelling and then left. And I had a window seat in class, so I was able to see a good bit of his route. Sooo weird. Buying from the vegetable truck just isn't the most popular way to procure your produce in Lido, I guess-and somehow, that doesn't surprise me. I wonder how many sales the vegetable guy makes in an hour or even a day. Whatever the answer, he ended up giving us lots of laughs during the drudgery of 4-hour class time, so I'm grateful for that.
Lido wasn't ALL bad. But Florence will be a different world.
No comments:
Post a Comment