8 tips for touring responsibly

Sooner or later, if you're like me, being called a tourist becomes extremely offensive.  Granted, I tend to travel to the same place year after year and no longer consider myself a tourist here.  When I go to new places, fine, yes, I'm a tourist and I don't mind if you call me that.  But I also think that, when touring, one should be responsible.  Here in Cefalù, tourists are SUPER easy to spot and therefore get charged double for their coffee, dinner, lunch, beach lounger, etc.  Now, if you're like me and have pale skin and red hair you will probably not be mistaken for a local in places like equatorial Africa, but I can proudly say that after 7 years, people FINALLY think I'm from here.  Even when I was in Pisa last week three different people asked me if I was Sicilian.  I said yes.  

In an effort to avoid the "evil tourist" tag, here are some things you might want to keep in mind as you travel.

1.  Avoid yelling (maybe I have sensitive ears, but why can't you use your inside voice?) in your native language in the middle of piazza duomo on your cell phone.  You're annoying everyone and just inviting people to charge your 3 euros for a cappuccino when the rest of us pay 1.30.

2.  While you may be doing a lot of walking and opt for tennis shoes, select socks that can easily be hidden in side of them (or just avoid gym shoes all together like me).  Furthermore, consider the country in which you are traveling.  Are you in Italy, the fashion capital of the world?  Then perhaps you should put a little effort into making sure you clothes match and that your jeans are long enough.  I'm not saying, I'm just saying.

3.  When going to a foreign country where you do not speak the language, you should make the effort to learn (if nothing else) a few useful phrases.  When you go to someone else's country, refuse to speak their language, and then are offended when they can't understand you, it makes you look like a big giant a** hole.  Even if you just learn "Hello, do you speak English?" you'll gain points.  Did you know that shop workers appreciate it when you pull our your phrase book and make much more of an effort to help you if they see you're making an effort to communicate with them?  

4.  Jorts are not appropriate for men in any country.  Period.

5.  When you stand in the middle of the street looking at your tour guide and then up at the sky and then at the tour guide and then at the sky again oblivious to the car and walking traffic around you and unaware that you're blocking everyone's path, you deserve to be pick-pocketed.  Yes, it's harsh, but wake up and get out of my way.

6.  If you go to a country that exercises the afternoon pausa don't get upset when at 2:30 most of the stores are closed.  Also keep in mind that most people don't eat dinner at 6:00 in the evening.  Most restaurants in the world don't even open until 7 or 7:30.  Plan accordingly and don't be surprised every day of your three week vacation.

7.  In a small town in Sicily you need to learn to what to share, what to keep to yourself, and what you should never talk about even though you saw it happen out in the open.  If you have any common sense, you shouldn't have too hard of a time figuring out what goes into what category.  Small towns are the same everywhere . . . think before you speak.

8.  Always be reminded that drinking yourself into oblivion is a stupid American pastime that is not well-respected around the world.  Drinking yourself into a stupor only makes you look like an idiot and the drunken American stereotype live for one more day.   

Welcome to Palermo where the players.....strangle each other with their belts

The last stop on Jeff and Jessica's excellent adventure was the trip from Rome back to Palermo and then Cefalù.  Of course things are always very exciting and of course there's at least one good story at some public place.  Yesterday's took place at the Palermo Centrale train station.

Jeff and I boarded our flight to Palermo and then got on the bus to take us to the train station.  When we got there, we bought out tickets and realized we had about half an hour to wait.  And then all of a sudden there was a little scuffle (which of course I missed because I'm ALWAYS looking the other way when something important happens) and Jeff goes, "Wow, there's a big fight over there."  Now Jeff, the responsible American, turned to walk the other way.  Guess what Jessica did?  Joined the other Sicilians and went right up to watch.  (In all fairness, you have to keep in mind that Sicilians tend to be watchers not fight breaker-uppers and even though there's a police station in the train station it always takes at least ten minutes for them to get there . . . so more than watching I was just making sure no one died before the police could intervene.)  Ok, so we missed the beginning of the fight so I'm not sure what the problem was, but man #1 was REALLY mad at man #2 (I'm assuming it had to do with petty crime . . . man #2 looked like he might be the type to try and steal someone wallet or man purse or something).  Anyway, man #1 had removed his belt, wrapped it around man #2's neck and was alternating between threatening to and actually trying to strangle him.  At some point two men in pink polo shirts with popped collars stepped in to try and remove the belt and at least make it a fair fight, but not with much success.  So then it settled down for a minute and then man #1 launched himself at man #2 again.  Somehow man #2 got free and took off through a bar (which really pissed off the bar owner) and down the street.  By the time we got outside to see what had happened man #2 was gone and man #1 was being held back by a veggie vendor.

At this point everyone started heading back inside and then we realized that the police were standing there.  Man #1 started screaming, "Now you show up?!  Now?!  I called you ten minutes ago!  Now he's gone!"  The police, in true Sicilian fashion, pointed at their watches explaining, "Sir, you called us and now we're here, that's how it works."  Anyway, then they all started yelling in Sicilian so I didn't get much of it, but they ended up taking man #1 back with them to question him.

You can't really get the true Italian experience without an altercation of some kind I truly believe, and seeing as no one got hurt, this one makes a good story I think.

In other news . . . Maureen and Tim introduced us to the debauchery that is the Jersey Shore filming in Florence this week.  They (we think there are 8 - oh dear lord) are working in a pizza shop (keep in mind they speak no Italian) and wreaking havoc on the lovely city the rest of the time.  By the time I left Florence I managed to walk though their filming three different times . . . whoopsie!  First we saw them working, then another day I was sitting outside the Cappelle Medicee and two of them walked by and then later that day another two or three were getting tattoos at a shop in Via Faenza.  We think we saw Snookie (although I thought she was really short, but Jeff said it was here) working at the pizza shop but some annoying producer yelled at us to keep moving before we could really register what was happening.  The only good thing is that the mayor of Florence made them write into the contract that they couldn't be filmed drinking in public in Florence.  I'm not sure if that means they get drunk at home first and then go out or they just go out and not on camera, but Maureen said she's heard them (she lives on one of the main streets in Florence) late at night trying to make their way home.  Lovely.  Even though Florence is full of Americans I hope they don't think that group is an accurate representation of what the majority of us are like.  That would be a tragedy . . . and this coming from an avid reality tv watcher (although Jersey Shore is one show I have never seen and have no intention of watching).

Now it's back to normal life here in Cefalù.  Oh Cefalù, we are such good friends . . .

And this is only halfway

Tomorrow my best friend Jeff will return to his birthplace of Italy accompanied by tour guide and translator, Jessica.  We will then proceed to spend ten days in true Jeff and Jessica fashion as we make our way across Lazio, through Tuscany, and then finishing with a grand finale in Sicily.  I expect this will finally be the wake up call for BravoTV to give me my own reality show.  

In honor of Jeffrey's impending visit, I will now recount the top five funniest moments of my trip so far......and this is only halfway!

1.  Today as I ate lunch at Non solo pane with Susannah a VERY creepy Italian (dressed from head to toe in powder blue) stared at us up and down the street.  And then proceeded to follow us.  He also tried to hold my hand, kiss me, and tell me it was destiny that brought us together.  Uh, no sicky mcsickerson, it was the voices in your head telling you that you're normal.

2.  I often sit in the administrative offices of a friend and check my email, use skype, etc.  There are also a graphic designer and an architect who share this space.  Today, the graphic designer is apparently suffering from some kind of intestinal parasite.  As I write this, I am being serenaded by a symphony of burts and farts and groans.  Lovely.  Glad I'm not shut up in there with him.

3.  A few weeks ago I went with some friends to a bar where one of them was received as a god.  Apparently his tattoos were so amazing that they made several of the locals kiss his tattooed arms.  Weird.

4.  Last night, in true Italian fashion, I got to witness the ultimate screaming fight.  My lovely neighbors were fighting for hours.  I got home around 1ish and they were still going strong at 3:30.  The girl kept claiming "You've ruined everything!" then slapping the boy, then storming out in a huff, and then pounding on the door since she failed to bring her keys with her.  Here's a tip honey, if you're going to storm out, storm out.  If you're going to keep coming back, bring your keys with you.  

5.  At a recent wine tasting several Germans got themselves so drunky drunk that they tried to translate directly and ended up talking about all sorts of crazy sex stuff.  It was a little awkward, a lot funny, and just a tiny bit weird all at the same time.  Rumor has it no one made it to class in top fashion the next morning.

Special post: 100th entry!!!

Clearly if I had my own TV show this would be a big deal: the 100th episode!  But, alas, Bravo hasn't gotten it together enough to offer me a show, so for now, the blog will have to do.

Here I am, sitting in the common area of an Italian office building trying to pretend like I belong and writing a blog.  So, here's the topic: You know you're in Italy when.  Obviously if you've ever been here there's no doubting that you're in Italy, but if you were from another planet and didn't really know, here are some definite signs that yes, friends, you are in Italy.

1.  There are no lines, only giant clumps of people pushing and shoving to get into whatever door first.

2.  When a cell phone rings, the responder screams, and yes I do mean screams, PRONTO!!!!!! into the receiver.

3.  Popped collars abound.

4.  There is an overwhelming amount of fanny packs.  Worn by men.  As if they are cross body bags.  Not a great look if you ask me, but whatever.

5.  There is always a mad older lady yelling in the background.

6.  People are standing in front of a no smoking sign, chain smoking.

7.  Sunglasses are worn at all hours of the day.  Even rainy days.  And even at night.

8.  It's 11 am and people are already ordering cocktails at the local bar.

9.  You're walking down the street and the woman in front of you has a "bring it on bitch" look on her face and refuses to step out of your way even though you're rolling a 50 lb suitcase, carrying a 40 lb backpack, talking on your cell phone and trying not to drop your purse.

10.  You order a cappuccino after lunch (don't worry, I only fell into this trap once 7 years ago) and there is a collective gasp by all present patrons in the bar.

Confessions from a conspiracy theorist

So 24 hours from now I'll be traveling in a giant metal tube across the giant ocean over to Italy.  Luckily my first flight is the long one, 9 hours over to Amsterdam, but I just think it's ridiculous that in 2011 we still have to fly for 12 hours to get to Italy.  Hello!  Does anyone else think that maybe the government is hiding technology from us?  Is it really possible that they cannot yet beam us (luggage and all - and just think how much MORE  you could bring if you didn't have to lug it around yourself!) wherever we want to go?  No. Clearly, the airline bigwigs and the scientists are in cahoots.  I'm not sure why yet, but I'm still working on it.

Anyway, I hate the travel to Europe because you get screwed up on your nighttime.  You leave the US in the early afternoon and fly east, so before you know it, it's nighttime.  And then two hours later the sun is coming up.  Well, I get so excited that I usually end up seeing how many movies I can watch in Italian on my way over.  That probably won't happen this time since I'm on KLM, but you never know, the Dutch are pretty high tech, maybe they have a bunch of languages on their flights.

I'm hoping I don't die on my way to Italy, but there will certainly be some sort of near death experience - there always is.  Once is was a nasty case of food poisoning (thanks Chicago O'Hare for serving bad chicken), another time we had to abort a landing and then almost slid off the end of the runway when we did land in Paris during a really bad snow storm.  I'm sure this death defying journey will be no less traumatic.  And who wants to bet I'll either a)have a middle seat or b)get a window seat but next to one of those people who doesn't respect personal space.  There it is, right there.  I bet the reason they haven't released the beam-me-up-Scotty technology yet is because the government is playing big brother and gets a kick out of watching people squirm in airplanes for hours on end.  Maybe they even try to match the naked scanner photos from security to the unhappy squished people in the planes.  I'm pretty sure that's it.

Anyway, Italy here I come.  Prepare yourself, Sicily, it's going to be a good summer.

Clearly I should be queen of the world.....still.....in case there was ever any doubt

Yes, I know this is probably my most recurrent post, but for whatever reason, the world hasn't yet gotten on board.  I'm going to blame it on lack of advertising.  It's not that I think I'm better than anyone else, I just think I'm willing to do it - and do away with the stupidity and ridiculousness that seems to dominate right now.

Today was one of those days that I hate.  First of all, the Texas sky though it was ok to open up and just pee all over me.  Annoying.  Has it not realized this is Texas?  It's supposed to be oppressively hot, not thundery and rainy.  Then I had to wait forever for my lunch.  I am pretty darn serious about food, and I think it's completely unacceptable that I had to wait more than 30 minutes.  Then I had to finish my dissertation revisions, which was fine, but then it was on to formatting.  Listen.  It should be someone's job to just sit around and format dissertations.  For free.  Or maybe graduate schools should come up with a formatting guide that is less than 16 pages.  I'm just saying.

Then I went to copy the dissertation and I got the world's slowest copy machine.  It took 11 minutes per copy.....again, what happened to natural selection?!  And the stupid kinkos people just looked at me like I was crazy.  Uh, maybe you should invest in efficient machines?!  Therefore, I will boycott kinkos of Denton and I encourage you all to join me.  I hate them now.

Now I'm home and nothing good is on TV.  Again, annoying.  Why do we have 500 channels and nothing to watch?  How is that even possible?  And I'd read a book, but I've somehow managed to read three complete books in the last three days and I have that summertime headache you get when your brain realizes you're reading for fun and makes you read super fast and your eyes start spinning and looking like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory treats.  Soon it will pass, but I'm thinking my summertime brain needs to ease into the book a day thing.

So, ladies and gents, vote for me!  Queen of the world!

Hello. My names is Dr. Jessica. You can call me DOCTOR!

It's official I passed!  And I don't even have the 40 million revisions I thought I would.  In fact one committee member didn't actually request any revisions but just gave me some suggestions in case I wanted to move forward with working the dissertation into a book.  I know, I'm awesome.  And really, the other revisions weren't that bad at all.....I can even finish everything before I leave for Italy in two weeks.  

My mother accused me of being "histrionic" the last few days.  Obviously that's not true at all.  If you know me, you know I'm the epitome of cool, calm, and collected.  I don't freak out over anything.  Or maybe I do, but I think this situation warranted a bit of emotion.  Besides, if I'd gone into it thinking I was fine, I probably wouldn't have passed, right?  

I will say though, that the three hours I spent plastering post-it notes all over my dissertation, books, and ntotes to tag every picture and line and quote and sentence that I wanted to highlight might have been a bit much.  (Not to mention hysterical when professor Cervigni handed me his corrections and there were post-its sticking out from every angle.  I thought I just sort of developed that habit, but it turns out I inherited it from him!  I also realized that many of my books are held closed with rubber bands because I've either broken the binding or there are too many post-its to close the book.  That comes from him too!  I'm not sure how he would feel about that but I think he would think it was funny.)  

I didn't even open the Macchiaioli picture book or the primary text at all.  That was a little disappointing but more relieving than anything I think.  I sort of felt bad after, since I had to sweet talk the art librarian into letting me check out a non-circulating/library use only book and then never even used it, but oh well.

So now I can take my first deep breath in about three years and can finally sit and do nothing without feeling guilty or lazy or that annoying little voice in the back of my head saying "Finish your dissertation, finish your dissertation, finish your dissertation!"  And exhale.