it's the small things

coming back to a place after being away for more than a year means that it is easy to forget the subtleties that encompass that place's identity.  

take italy for example.  it is easy to remember the gelato, the food, the extremely attractive men (who never seem to be ugly, be they 5 or 50), the wine, and the small cars.  however, as i was walking around crema the first day, i realized i had forgotten about the small things that make this place unique.  like the overt displays of affection that are a given here.  girls with their underwear hanging out of their pants, sitting on top of their boyfriends in the public square, as they make out passionately for the rest of us to see.

something else is how you have to buy your own grocery bags.  an ingenious way to make people either use less plastic or make sure they re-use it.  maybe LA should try that instead of banishing plastic altogether.

then there is paying (dearly) for bathrooms in many public places, like train stations, or at least never being able to use a bathroom unless you patronize the locale.  and the strange way that toilets flush, be it by turning a metal lever on the wall, turning a plastic handle on the wall, pressing a metal or plastic button on the wall, or simply flushing like our toilets do in the states.  there is the milk, that never comes in bottles larger than a liter.  the eggs, that never come in dozens.  the sirens of the ambulances that are tinny and short. 

and then there is the staring.  oh the staring.  you could be purple in america and they wouldn't stare at you so much.  i'm not dressed like an american, and am not doing anything strange, they just simply stare at you as you walk by.  in the states we might glance at the person walking by, but never scrutinize them closely.  i have come to the conclusion it at least partly stems from the culture of openness here, and the fact that your business is others' business, including loud, public telephone conversations on topics from credit card problems to going on ad infinitum over what a horrible person your boyfriend is.  public and private spheres collide here, and that which is your own simply becomes that of your next-door neighbor, the person in the train seat next to you, or the individual walking down the street.  my first time around i took it personally, but since have realized i can't approach it that way - it's simply a part of who they are and will just be one more thing to get used to again.