Thursday, January 30, 2014

The Other Italy


In Canada and the US, Italians form an ethnic community whose values and traditions represent an alternative to the North American status quo. This particular reality often leads to the assumption, among North Americans, that Italy – unlike Canada or the US, countries composed of plural “national identities” – hosts no ethnic communities of its own to provide alternates to the Italian lifestyle. Recently, a friend traveling to Italy lamented (or perhaps only half-celebrated) what he called a necessary adherence to a carbohydrate loaded Italian diet for three weeks; quite simply, traveling to what was to him an already ethnic location, he never thought to seek out other ethnic options within it – or realized there were any.

It isn’t difficult to imagine why.  Native Italians represent 92% of Italy’s overall population. Despite recent strides in immigration and human rights  - the “L’Italia, sono anch’io” campaign is a noteworthy example – Italy’s relationship with its remaining 8% of foreign cultures is still defined by exclusion and marginalization; the conversation surrounding non-native Italians is taboo, and extends beyond the decades-long resistance to Rom (colloquially, gypsy) populations and establishments.  Immigrants and their families, the children born on Italian soil, legal permanent residents there, fluent in Italian language and culture, are still often viewed as secondary and negligible subsets of the population. No one knows about these ethnic communities because no one talks about them. They are (not so conspicuously) absent at events aiming to build or reinforce national identity, they live in clusters outside city centers or ancient city walls; for all intents and purposes, they are numerically invisible.

Mario Balotelli is a notable exception – but barely.

In fact, in many cases, the word “immigrant” itself is associated with negative connotations that nurture a culture of misunderstanding and fear. When traveling to Padua once, I was warned (affectionately, by my Italian host family) to avoid the city’s outer limits and periphery, as I might encounter unwanted attention from “violent” or otherwise disreputable immigrant populations there. I didn’t, but I almost hoped I would, so their worry would be justified.

These other ethnic communities do, however, exist. What is more, they thrive. Index Mundi’s 2013 Italian Demographic Profile limits its count of visible ethnic groups in Italy to German, French, Slovene, Albanian, and Greek-Italians. But Africans, Asians, and Americans represented a total of 49% of immigrants to Italy in 2013 – a year that saw the immigration rate increase by 8.2%. Excluded from the count, but no less present in or necessary to Italy’s national functioning are illegal immigrants who are assumed to make up at least 1% of Italy’s total population. More importantly, however, Italy’s landed immigrant groups have made their presence not only felt, but also appreciated in recent years.  Chinese immigrants and naturalized Chinese-Italians make up 6.32% of Prato’s total population and, alongside their Japanese neighbors, have successfully established themselves as reputable businesspeople and restaurateurs in major urban areas like Florence and Empoli. Moroccan salespeople and merchants flock to Southern Italy early in their careers for trunk shows and professional fairs – and never leave. Indian retailers have created a space for themselves and their market in and around Rome and Milan increasingly since 1990. “Made in Italy” is no longer the priority it was even ten years ago, as alternative models of production and dissemination have become available since then.

Truth be told, when in Florence, I am just as likely to find the shoe or garment or accessory I need "dal cinesino" (as Italians call shops run by Chinese owners) as I am at Coin (and at a fraction of the price), and eat "ethnic" food almost as frequently as I eat Italian food,  it's just that available. (Ask me for a list of my favorite places.)

To any Italian, however, this alternative is still the less prestigious, inferior choice. To be sure: Italians (mostly of my generation) will (and do) shop dal cinesino, especially during this current economic downturn. They will (and do) deviate from their diet of conventional staples to enjoy another country's native cuisine. But Italy’s relationship with The Other is still troubled and uncertain, despite the changing face of its demographic since the late 1960s. 

Historically, however, it is difficult to understand Italy as anything other than an amalgamation of coexisting and often conflicting nationalities. From Antiquity to the Risorgimento, it was the battleground of many peoples from Nordic Vikings to indigenous Arabs competing for land, space, comfort, commercial monopoly. Today’s native Italians are bred of this diversity, whose vestiges are still visible in Italy’s art and architecture. Italy’s national fabric has been woven from these multicolored threads and enriched by the presence of cultures it considers foreign to its own – a fact worth remembering as it moves from accommodation to acceptance and praise of the Italian Other -- and a fact worth remembering as we travel to an Italy that hasn't, for the past forty years, been all tomato sauce and Roberto Cavalli.


Welcome Home (sort of)

After thirteen years of frequent travel between Italy and Canada (or the US), having visited seventeen of its twenty regions, that's what Italy is increasingly becoming for me: home ... but not quite. Attached as much to the poetry of its language (Ph.D. in Italian Studies) as to its rich cultural heritage and its people (three Italian boyfriends so far ;)) returning to Italy evokes a specific feeling of homecoming shared only by my immediate family: coming here feels like being among my own -- in all the same ways.

That is to say, it is a homecoming neither entirely comfortable nor without conflict.

In fact, in the years I lived in Baltimore, far removed from my family by much more than the nine hours of transit and distance between us, traveling to Italy and traveling to Montreal occupied the same mental space and triggered much of the same sentiment in me. In both cases, I was a stranger, looking objectively and with fresh eyes (each time) at a familiar geographical and emotional landscape that was both mine and no longer mine. I was returning to a place that, no matter how easily and confidently I navigated it, still routinely frustrated me. Yet if you ask me what my favorite city on earth is, I'm likely to say "Montreal." And if you ask me to tell you my favorite travel stories, I am likely to draw from my 2008, 2011 or 2012 trips to Tuscany (and beyond).

Home is the easiest space to love and hate simultaneously.

Treating Italy like home (which it has been in the past and currently is, at least until the end of March), the purpose of this blog is to write frankly and casually about a place frequently either idealized or demonized in popular media. This is not a travel blog. My intention is not to post gorgeous photos, detailed accounts of, and philosophical musings on my numerous trips here. Rather, as its title suggests, this blog will aim to demystify Italy, to deconstruct Italian stereotypes, good or bad (and often both), and to present my understanding of a country frequently praised for its beauty (and its pasta), criticized for its politics (and its economic management) and almost always viewed, by people living outside it, as a somewhat clownish destination (Cue: "itsa place-a like-a noa other-a!" or "Ciao, bella!): let's talk about Roberto Benigni, shall we?



(Just kidding.)

(... FOR NOW!)

So, I invite you to join me in my sometimes big-picture, sometimes fine-print analysis, exploration, and (at times) celebration of THE REAL SLIM SHADY Italy, from outside in.

(Two trailer park girls go round the outside ....)

(Best of luck getting that out of your head.)

Happy reading!