A few days ago I received an email from a guy who is planning his first trip to southern Italy. He’ll be visiting his grandfather’s homeland in Calabria-just about 50 minutes north of me in Catanzaro-and like any would-be international traveler worth his passport, he’s researching the area.

He bought my Calabria travel tips ebook-thanks, Robert!-and browsed through the travel tips and Calabria travel sections on this site.

But he still had a problem.

“I saw your post on How Not to Look Like a Tourist in Southern Italy,” he told me, “but that seemed more geared towards women. Do you have some tips for guys? I get the sense my Pittsburgh Steelers t-shirts won’t be a good choice!”

Well, Robert. You are right. I’d leave the Steelers t-shirt out of my bag. Of course, I’m a Cowboys fan, so I’d leave the Steelers out of any bag, for any trip, regardless of the destination, culture or climate.

But maybe that’s just me …

With that in mind, here are three more travel tips for men traveling to southern Italy.

1. Follow Robert’s Rules

and by that, I mean the Robert who mentioned the sports shirt. He was right on target with that idea, but in addition to ditching American sports paraphernalia, you guys should also leave out graphic t-shirts that talk about how much beer you can drink, when you went to Hard Rock Cafe and why or why not you voted for “the other guy.”

And really, nobody cares if you are with “stupid,” or if she’s with you.

2. What’s Good for the Goose

also goes for her well-dressed gander. Even though the post about dressing in southern Italy seemed like it targeted women, many of the tips apply to men. They still dress in season-translation: no shorts in winter months, carry bags instead of backpacks and are pretty big on designer sunglasses.

Men in Italy take pride in being well-dressed and rarely go out in slouchy sweats.

3. Think Solid Colors (and long pants)

I knew a guy who came to southern Italy last year who was hell bent on fitting in with the locals. The problem? “I’m American,” was stamped on his forehead (and no amount of over-the-counter bronzers or hours basking in the Calabrian sun would fade it).

Personally, I think that is ok. I love American tourists, remember?

But if you really want to look the part, wear long pants, dark-colored jeans and solid colored t-shirts or polos. (Please forgo the red and purple pants, even they can’t pull them off all of the time!) Add dark socks and dark shoes and you’ll be on the right path to southern Italian style.

What other tips do you have for men who want to blend in with the locals in Italy?

Be sure to check out Robin’s travel tips today.

Until next time … Buon Viaggio!

(This post was originally published on this site in May, 2007)

Old Wives’ Tales.

We’ve all heard them. We’ve all repeated them. We might even believe a few of them.

Like, “Don’t play with fire or you’ll wet the bed,” which always scared me a little bit.

Or, “Don’t cross your eyes or they’ll stay that way,” which I believed until I was in my 20s!

Or even, “If you swallow gum, it will stay in your system for seven years,” which I am embarrassed to admit I believed until I researched this article!

Stop laughing.

Please…

The funny thing about Old Wives’ Tales, though, is that most of the time intelligent, logical-minded people (myself included, despite the above revelations) know they are not true.

This is sooo not the case for Southern Italians. In fact, to hear them, you’d be amazed how we have managed to dodge death all these years and how the American race hasn’t yet become extinct.

Therefore, since I have been fortunate enough to be bestowed with this knowledge, I feel I absolutely must, in good faith, pass this information on to you. Consider yourself warned!

photo credit: Fiore S. Barbato

Did you know you are risking DEATH if you…

- Walk around with wet hair? Oh yes, my friends, death could come a knockin’ – so keep your head dry (and covered, if possible) at all times. Peppe’s dad warned me once against this, but stubborn ole me, didn’t listen. A few hours later I had a bad headache. Hmmm ….

- Stay outside in the cold without a coat? Apparently you can get pneumonia which will inevitably lead to a quick demise. This includes, not only a coat and close-toed shoes (until summer arrives) but long-sleeves when there is wind and socks after dark. Proceed with caution and avoid that draft whenever possible!

- Sit in front of the air-conditioning? Well, maybe you won’t DIE from this, but you could catch a horrific sore throat! Apparently the cold air, when blown directly towards your face, is toxic. Who knew? So, once again – dodge that draft!

- Use the air conditioning? Who knew Americans were such risk-takers? People throughout the country put their lives at risk every day simply by turning on the air. Italians are much smarter about this. If you are hot, you must stay hot, or your body will react badly and incite a sudden death! I kid you not. My gym is not air conditioned for this very reason, and I have to get plum pissy at home before they turn on the AC in the summer. This, by the way, applies to all central heating units and ceiling fans. Another case of draft dodging? I think so!

- Sit by an open window when the wind is blowing? For reasons similar to the two above examples – I wouldn’t do it!

- Drink ice cold water? Ice water alone won’t cause death but will likely lead to a brutal sore throat. However, after working out or being in the heat, you could die an early death from consuming this ice-poison. Here’s an example: I went for a 45 minute jog the other day and returned home to a locked house. So, I visited Zia M.

Zia M: “Can I get your something “fresh” to drink?”

Me: “Sure! How about some water?”

Zia M: “Oh, no, you can’t have water. Maybe some nice pear juice instead? “Fresh” water will make you sick.”

Me: Thinking … uhh, can I have some stale water, but instead said, “No, I don’t like pear juice. Really, I’ll just have water.”

Zia M brings out the warmer-than-room-temp water, thus causing me to worry about the millions of Americans who drink cold water every day at their local gym. I did, however, feel a pang of guilt for insisting Zia M provide water after a workout. (Inevitably, forcing her to double-up on her daily Hail Marys since she quite possibly provided the venom that would lead to my swift, albeit foreseeable, death.)

So, to make her feel better I added …

“I have a little headache today … it must be because the weather is changing!”

She agreed and I had once again passed the “I’m-cool-enough-to-be-married-to-your-Godson-even-though-I’m-not-Italian” test!

In addition to the above warnings, you should know that you can “protect” yourself from a sore throat by wearing a scarf tied tightly around your neck, hence covering your throat, and once again, dodging the draft.

You can also prevent an array of undesirable ailments such as diarrhea, infertility, hemorrhoids and pneumonia by wearing slippers in the house. (Infertility?!?)

All laughter aside though, some things really can be fatal! I told Peppe about this post and about some of the information I discovered about Italian wives’ tales.

Me: “You know, Peppe, you CAN go swimming after you eat. You won’t get cramps!”

Peppe: “What? No, Cherrrrrye!”

Me: “Peppe, I just read it.”

Peppe: “No, baby, no … you can DIE from this!”

Me: (trying to conceal a laugh) “What?”

Peppe: “You can screw up your digestion system and you can really DIE!”

Well, I’m glad to know that! Just in time for summer, too.

So, blog readers, take heed! Tell your mothers. Tell your sisters. Tell your friends. It is up to us to let America know the risks lurking at every air duct and water fountain. Are you up for the challenge?

Happy Dodging!

Italian Christmas Lights in Squillace, Calabria

Italy Christmas traditions are a little different from the ones we have in the states. In addition to the less-obvious decorations and Christmas cheer, they also celebrate key dates we tend to overlook.

The Italians began their Christmas season this week by celebrating the Feast of Immaculate Conception (of Mary) and will end their season on January 6 during the Feast of the Epiphany.

In fact, I wrote all about Italy Christmas food, celebrations and events last year. You can catch up here.

But one thing I haven’t written about are the Twelve Days of Christmas.

And no, I’m not talking the song.

Many people mistakenly believe the 12 days of Christmas lead up to the big event on December 25. And why wouldn’t they? Stores advertise 12 days of Christmas sales, people give each other trinkets on each of the 12 days before Christmas and even our children return to school before the official 12th day has even passed.

In reality, the 12 days of Christmas are between Christmas Day and the Day of the Epiphany, with the 12th Night being celebrated on the evening on January 5, the same day La Befana delivers gifts to the children of Italy.

There is quite the controversy over whether the song “The Twelve Days of Christmas” was written as a symbolic code for Christians during a time when it was illegal to practice their faith and even Snopes got in on the discussion by declaring it false.

Whether you believe the origin of the song is steeped in code or that it is a nonsensical musical created for children is up to you. I, for one, kinda like a good conspiracy theory, so I’m gonna go with that.

Speaking of holidays and the days leading up to Christmas, don’t forget to throw your name into the, uhm, random generator hat for ItalianPod101 lessons, an 8X10 Italy photo of your choice or today’s giveaway, a free one-day custom Itinerary for Calabria.

Are you heading to Calabria-or somewhere else in southern Italy? If so, this giveaway is just for you.

All you have to do is sign up for Questo Mese in Italia, the official newsletter of My Bella Vita that is sent six times a year or-using the same form-sign up to receive Calabria Close-Up, a monthly snippet highlighting various cities and villages throughout Calabria.

If you forward the newsletter confirmation to a friend (copy me using the email provided in the confirmation so I’ll know you sent them) and they sign up, you’ll receive an extra two entries! There is no limit on the number of entries you can receive.

You have until Thursday, December 17 at 5:00 PM (Italy time) to subscribe.

In bocca al lupo!

Having a Calabrian father-in-law takes some adjustments.

- No matter how much you eat, it is never enough.

- You have to learn a new language to communicate, and I’m not talking about Italian.

- And no matter how hard you try you might never-ever!-decipher his hand gestures and grunts.

But all that aside, having a Calabrian father-in-law really takes the torta.

And here is why.

1. It is never boring

I’ve written a lot about how funny Italians are, especially my Calabrian suocero, Nino who told his sister he prays for me every night … because he is worried I don’t eat enough.

He also called the weather a bastard and told me I’ve given his son a disease, when my husband refused another piece of chicken and more broccoli … and a few weeks ago, he did it again.

My husband was serving guests at our bed and breakfast and one of them walked outside to enjoy the crisp Calabrian air. I heard my father-in-law mumble something under his breath, followed by a classic “Nino” grunt.

“What did you say?” I asked, thinking he was speaking to me.

“Ah, nothing.” He grumbled. “I thought that was Peppinuccio outside in shorts-but it is not. It is some other asshole!”

2. Every day is a gift day

Likely in an attempt to offset the fact that, at least in his mind, I don’t eat enough, every other day or so is “gift day.” Like many Calabrians, my father-in-law goes grocery shopping every day and almost every day he comes back with a surprise for me.

Check out the loot I got last week. Two Nutella Snacks (with tea), a three-pack of Pocket Espresso and a Kinder Sorpresa. What is not pictured is the two-pack of Gran Soleil desserts. Yum!

3. You can’t pull one over on him

I considered posting a photo to help you visualize my Calabrian father-in-law experience, and like any blogger worth her Wordpress widgets, I asked my subject’s permission.

“Nino,” I began slowly. “I would like to put a picture of you on … ilmiosito … , ok?”

“What?” He asked. You know, he doesn’t hear well.

“A picture. Of you. sulmiosito.”

He looked at me, not smiling.

So I bargained.

“If you let me use your picture, I’ll eat meat. Every day.”

“Watch out,” my husband warned.

“Every day this week,” I clarified quickly.

He looked at me.

“Well,” I told my husband in English. “He didn’t say no.”

Nino’s head jerked up.

“No?” He repeated the one word he’d understood correctly.

“But I’ll eat meat every day.” I told him. “Please?”

“You’re tricking me,” he told me. “You can’t trick me!”

And that was that.

So, dear blog readers, I’m sorry, but you will have to continue to visualize my 70-something year old father-in-law, with his white hair, neatly combed back, his thin-rimmed glasses and gruff grin until I can convince him to pose.

Or you could just come visit us at our bed and breakfast. He shows up here from time to time, too.

Are your in-laws from a different culture than you? What are some of your favorite moments or stories?

A few weeks ago I asked where all of the good customer service guys had gone? I lamented the lack of a customer-service oriented mentality in south Italy and wondered how businesses could remain open with the attitude they have towards their customers.

Well today, I have that answer.

photo credit: Gudlyf

But before we get to that … I have a back story.

There is a steak house in Beaumont my family frequents as often as possible. They have great steaks, great sides and according to my cousin, Angelique, great fajitas-although I leave my Tex-Mex to the professionals.

One day seven or eight of my family members met there for lunch. Since my husband and I had a lunch date a few hours later with friends, we skipped the meal. We didn’t, however, skip the company and we joined them towards the end of their meal for a chat.

It was about that time my mother noticed a hair (eek!) in her plate. She didn’t complain, just pushed it back and continued talking. The ever-attentive server noticed, asked her about it and immediately apologized and offered to bring her a replacement dish.

She was finished anyway, she said, and insisted she wasn’t upset.

A few minutes later, the manager appeared.

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am (we are in Texas, remember!),” he said.

“Are you sure you don’t want a replacement?”

When she refused, he made another offer.

“We’d like to offer you all desserts-on the house!”

Well my family never met a dessert they didn’t like and they were thrilled with this customer service gesture.

“And what kind would you like?’ He asked, looking at my husband and me.

“Oh no. We didn’t even eat here,” I said apologetically. “We just came in to see them for a few minutes.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You are here now. What can I bring you?”

—

And that dining moment-at The Cattle Company restaurant in Beaumont, Texas-became the standard by which we measured all other customer service experiences.

And no one has ever matched them.

Until now.

Fast-forward three or four years and 6,000 miles to last Tuesday, November 17-the night of our 2nd anniversary.

We chose Carn & Vino in Catanzaro Lido-and if that name sounds familiar to you, it is because I’ve written of them before.

The restaurant has more elegance and class than any restaurant I’ve been to in southern Italy and the chef is among the most creative I’ve seen-anywhere.

But Tuesday night, I did not choose wisely.

Among the list of primi plates was a cocoa pasta dish, made with Gorgonzola cheese and topped with shredded black truffles.

Although I wasn’t sure if I liked truffles, with their strong, earthy scent and matching flavor, I thought I’d give it a try.

Now I know.

I don’t like truffles.

I picked at the plate and with the antipasto we’d shared and the quickly-diminishing bottle of wine, I was fine.

The owner stopped by the table.

“You didn’t like it?” He asked me.

My husband jumped in to help. “It was really just the truffles. They are too strong for her. She just didn’t choose well.”

Thanks, honey … .

The owner took my plate.

A few minutes later he returned.

“The chef is making you something else,” he told me.

“Oh no,” I insisted. “I’m ok. I’m not even hungry anymore.”

About that time, my husband asked him about the dessert options.

He chose homemade tiramisu. I chose panna cotta with frutti di bosco topping.

We finished our desserts and proceeded to the front of the restaurant.

“The desserts were compliments of the chef,” the owner told us.

We chatted briefly with the chef, thanked him profusely and left.

In the car my husband looked at the receipt and noticed that not only had the chef offered dessert, but the owner had removed my plate from the bill.

We were shocked.

We had finally found a restaurant whose customer service rivals our favorite steak house back home in Texas, and we found it in the most unusual place.

In another favorite steak house … in our new backyard.

Have you had any good customer service stories lately? Please share!

American tourists often get a bad rap. We are stereotyped as being loud, single-language slobs who are demanding, obnoxious and egocentric.

And sometimes they are right.

For a long time I’ve wanted to write a post about American tourists in Calabria and how 95% of the time, they bust that stereotype wide open. Then, a group of Americans will visit us who fit that mold and make me rethink the idea of the great American traveler.

After two years of running our B&B in Calabria, both my Italian husband and I think American guests rock. In general, they are most respectful, the most gracious and the most grateful guests who pass through our doors-and we love them.

In honor of Thanksgiving week, I present to you my non-ode-because I can’t write poetry-to American Tourists. Here are 10 reasons why we love you, American Tourists in Calabria.

We love you for …

- the nervous emails you send while planning your trip

- how we often feel like we know you, before you’ve ever stepped foot in the bel paese

- how you offer to bring little reminders of home, whether it is a new coffee press, Ziploc bags or English-language books

- the glimmer in your eye as you explore Calabria

- the excitement that radiates from you as you tell us about your journey

- how you marvel at every little thing you see and think each place you visit is better than the last

- how you aren’t afraid to try new things or eat unidentified dishes

- appreciating the locals and respecting their way of life

- respecting us, our bed and breakfast and the other guests you meet here

But most of all, American Tourists, we love you for loving Calabria, for appreciating her rugged beauty and timeless charm and for leaving us like you found us. We are just a little bit better off for having met you.

Happy Thanksgiving Week!

While most American expats I know are happily settled into their new lives, being abroad for holidays, birthdays and special occasions can still be tough. We miss our families. We miss our friends. We miss the customs and traditions that made these events back home so darn special.

photo credit: di_the_huntress

If you are an expat living with your expat spouse and expat children, it might be easy to celebrate holidays in the same ways you did back home. However, for expats like me, who tied the knot with one of the natives, there is a little thing called compromise.

Here are three tips for merging cultures during holidays and special events.

Post continues here.

I have high standards.

I expect good customer service. A welcoming smile. A polite thank you.

Even in the US, I get riled up with businesses who lack accountability, who take their customers for granted, who act like they don’t give a damn. Here in Italy, I get riled rather often.

This really could be an (insert large number here) series on Customer Service in Calabria, but since I like to keep things bella here at My Bella Vita, we’ll keep this short and sweet.

I am heartbroken.

Our former favorite pizzeria, which I have written about both here and for my new gig at EasyJet Airlines wielded the blow and I just can’t, for the life of me, understand why businesses don’t care about their customers.

A few weeks ago my husband and I gathered a group of friends and asked them to join us at our favorite pizza place, da Ciro, in Catanzaro Lido. Our American friends were in town, we had another expat in tow, and a few of my husband’s cousins who hate this pizzeria.

Waiting is to be expected on a Saturday night, so we weren’t surprised when we arrived and found a crowded restaurant.

“We’ll wait outside so we don’t disturb you and your other clients,” my husband told them.

And we did.

We waited. And waited. And waited.

We watched while they seated another group-who had arrived after us-and we waited some more.

After an hour and a half, a large group of teenagers arrived and stood in the middle of the restaurant until they were seated.

My husband asked the waiter, the owner’s son-in-law, about the table.

“They were here before you,” the man told him.

“No, they weren’t,” my husband told him. “We’ve been waiting outside.”

“Well,” the man said, becoming defensive, “I’m working here. I can’t keep up with who gets here first.”

The owner walked by to listen to their conversation and continued to her seat without intervening.

There were small tables vacant and we assumed they’d push them together and offer us a seat.

We waited five more minutes. When no tables were combined or apologizes offered, we left.

And I won’t go back.

The worst part of this is that da Ciro Pizzeria isn’t alone.

Our B&B guests report incidents that are almost impossible to believe.

Apparently, there is a bed and breakfast in Catanzaro Lido that refused to serve breakfast to their guests because they were only staying one night. Another nearby bed and breakfast doesn’t offer breakfast at all. Another one charges guests for water.

Will someone explain this to me, in basic terms, as if I was a child? How do businesses operate with such lousy service and live to tell the tales?

Photo courtesy of Matchstic Blog