Last month, I directed a pre-collegiate summer camp here in Florence for (filthily rich and entitled beyond hope or reason) American students. The program itself was not the best one I've ever managed, but many of the parental complaints my staff and I fielded had little to do with its quality: "My daughter can't get chicken on her pasta;" (Nope. Sorry.) "There was no pool at the four-star hotel booked in Rome;" (Did you think all four-star hotels came with a pool, spa, and tennis courts? Oh you did? My bad, really.) "My son's photography teacher doesn't speak English;" (She does, actually. She just has an accent because - guess what? - she's ITALIAN.) America and Italy have had a difficult relationship for centuries. Americans accuse Italians of being culturally exclusive and behind the times; Italians accuse Americans of wanting to bring America to Italy without making any real effort to adapt or adjust. It's tit for tat.
Most of this blatant display of cultural unawareness I chalked up to these students' families being rich enough to buy their way out of any unwanted situation -- a luxury I have never been afforded. But there is a fundamental difference in the way Americans and Italians do business that contributes in large part to the cultural discrepancy between them. It's in the service industry -- every country's biggest batch of human resources.
In many places across the US, waiters, concierges, and other members of the service industry are unsalaried, work for less than minimum wage, and quite literally live off their earned tips. In America, where tipping is implied and recommended but never guaranteed, providing horrible service is tantamount to not eating for a few days. No matter what, the customer is always right. If he wants the Niçoise salad with salmon instead of tuna, no anchovies, his eggs scrambled instead of hard-boiled, caramelized onions instead of olives and feta and baco-bits thrown in on top, he gets it, no questions asked. He's the one paying the bill (and, for many waiters, the rent).
In Italy, where it is uncustomary (and unexpected) to tip -- a service fee is usually included in the price of a sit-down meal -- the service provider has both the final say and every right to make your life miserable if you are anything less than a model customer. Here, waiters are paid by their employers and don't need to rely on tips for sustenance. So here, if you want your Niçoise salad any way but the way indicated on your menu, you should be prepared at the very least to repeat your order several times, be openly mocked by the wait staff, or have your request flat-out refused as you are (not so) gently encouraged to select something else. It goes beyond the national appreciation of cuisine as an art of careful arrangement. It speaks to the pride of a people who will not yield to (what are often seen as) unreasonable requests.
That is not to say that Italians are not accommodating of special dietary (or other) needs. Every restaurant I took my students to last month had an option ready for celiacs, vegetarians, pescatarians, and lactose-intolerant eaters. What they did not have was a "build-it-yourself" option, an "add what meat you like," option or a "free modifier" option. Because things are not done that way here.
It's a little difference, but it goes a long way and extends to other sectors of the service industry, to the same fundamental result. In Italian hotels, clients are asked to endure room mix-ups, late check-in (when rooms are not ready), and room service billing inaccuracies. But they should expect to encounter resistance if they ask for leniences in return (late check-out or a discounted meal). In America, patrons not given the fullest extent of hospitality are usually offered a complementary night or some kind of retributive service. In Italy, if you are being loud in your room, the concierge calls in with a noise complaint and asks you to stop, upon threat of expulsion. In the US, upper management wouldn't rouse from its extended nap if you tore your room apart.
It follows, then, the gap formed between American expectation and Italian reality -- and vice-versa. Italy wants the perfect customer; America wants the perfect service. Apologies are made for bad service in Italy: a slow aperitivo will usually be justified with a comment about the quality of the food (waiters are slow, but the food is SO GOOD IT'S WORTH THE WAIT). You might never go back to the place with slow service, but it's no harm no foul -- you've paid your bill and likely wouldn't have left anything extra even if the service had been excellent. In Italy, slow service occasionally (and not always) cuts customers. In America, if systemic, it gets waiters fired.
And strangely, when customers do choose to tip in Italy - as I did in pseudo-American establishments or places that repeatedly treated my group well despite their many (and silly) exigencies - their additional euros don't buy them better service or (often) better treatment; they get them a discount on their meal. In America, a discount is most often offered as an apology. In Italy, with few exceptions, it is most often offered as a reward. It's not so much a reciprocal scratching of backs as it is a mutual tickling of wallets. Occasionally, leaving a tip in Italy means, as a repeat customer, skipping the line, getting the best table in the house, or meeting with the owner. Seldom does it amount to a faster or more reliable rendering of service.
To be sure, there are (many) other factors that contribute to the cultural disconnect between America and Italy. The rhythm of daily life is another: where Italians are (mostly) happy to take their time (assumedly, to do things well), Americans consider haste a characteristic of efficiency: if it's not fast, it's not worthwhile. It's a tied game, as far as I'm concerned, when it comes to who gets it right more often.
Advocacy for cultural awareness and acceptance (my first line of defense) aside, I'll give you an insider's tip about how to bridge the service gap as an American expat in Italy. It goes back to Seneca (I think): you'll catch more flies with honey than you will with vinegar. Give Italian servers a show of good faith. Be complaint. Be respectful. Be easy-going. It'll pay off dividends in the long run.
That, or go only to hotel-recommended restaurants with hotel-provided vouchers and watch the magic happen.
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