Friday, October 14, 2011

A Truly United Nations

I realize I talk in abstract a lot here about the struggles I've had with liking my job, but I decided I should take a moment and try and really fill you in (since so many of you ask) about what it's really like to work for the United Nations.

-Au Canada: One of the interns at work was kicked out of his apartment with nowhere to go for his last three weeks in Rome. And while I know I said I was done offering up my place to peeps, I couldn't keep my mouth shut when I heard the hardship of my colleague from our neighbor to the North. One of the first things he said upon arrival at my humble abode - "It's so good to be able to talk to another North American who understands where I'm coming from, that I'm not crazy", to which I nodded and then had to swallow a giggle as he finished his sentence with "Ay?". Well, we had a nice little North American time over his week at my house where we bonded over things only NAs would get like commercials of "CLR" (my showerhead was clogged); I told him all my Canada jokes; he inquired about what it was like for everyone to talk crap about America; and the grand finale was over the weekend when he said "Happy Thanksgiving", and I informed him that Thanksgiving wasn't till November but it was a sweet gesture, to which he informed me that it was Canadian Thanksgiving that day. Au Canada. When I was incredulous that Canada also celebrates Thanksgiving, he said, "Don't you guys know when we celebrate it? I mean we know all your holidays?" To which I had to sit him down and explain that no, we don't know anything about Canada, except that you talk funny, have cheap drugs, and have the better side of Niagra Falls. He was crestfallen, but we made up when I offered to make a pumpkin pie to give thanks in honor of Canada. Having lived in a little brother country (New Zealand is the little bro to Aus and they have a similar relationship/jokes), I have a whole new respect for our Northern neighbor. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop making jokes

-The Food and Agriculture Organization: Reinforcing Stereotypes, Getting Back to Our Roots: FAO is going through a "renewal" where they're coming up with new branding strategies and slogans to market the organization. Well I recently coined the above slogan, based on the truly ridiculous things that I hear on a daily basis. Here's a few fun facts about the place that I work:
-The real Latin motto fiat panis, means "let there be bread", now I know why they
moved it to Italy, so much easier to deliver on the motto (see below on proteins vs. carbs)
-The building was built by Mussolini to house the Ministry of Colonies, aka Italy's attempt at world domination pre-Berlusconi and the bunga bunga strategy
-On any given day the building provides a series of funhouse gimmicks that are a test to see if I will actually lose my mind -
-the elevators: for some reason the elevators only go to the 7th floor and you have
to walk the last flight to the 8th. Conveniently I work on the 8th floor. The doors
have no release, so they are sort of like metro doors in that when they start to
close and you are in between them they just snap closed ON you. Additionally, walking into the elevator it's a 50/50 chance that when you push your floor all the lights (all floors) will light up. What all of this means in a building that is one city block, is that going anywhere in the building takes as long as my 2km walk to work and as opposed to being filled with the music of my Ipod is filled with either
my or others swears of incredulity that this is really the state of the UN bldg
-heating/cooling: does not actually exist, so it's basically like working outside. My
Mom sent me a gardenia for my birthday which I have kept in the office as a
gauge of how healthy the working environment is - it has suffered near death at
points and I think only survives to keep me going. When it dies, I leave
-the cafeteria: there is no rhyme or reason to anything and each day there is a new
challenge that the catering company comes up with. Their newest is, no takeaway
salads, you can only take away pasta or meat, but no salad or fruit - of course, logical, if only Seinfeld had visited FAO the show wouldn't have been canceled
for the plethora of material
So besides the physical/logistical characteristics of the building, you'd think at the United Nations that people would be of utmost quality/professionalism/awareness considering they work with people from different countries everyday and are supposedly the cream of the crop (no pun intended, but it's so easy). In my own little project team, there are 9 people from 7 different countries. Here's a few quotes of how 'aware' and 'professional' my UN colleagues are (WARNING: prepare to be offended):
-"You'll recognize him, don't worry, he's really dark skinned, he's the dark skinned Indian, you can't miss him"
-"Oh he just stays really late cause he's Asian, you know how hard working they are"
-"Jeez, that Chinese guy talks really loud" (the guy in question is from Kyrgyzstan and the
woman making this comment is Mexican and one of the loudest talkers I've ever met)
-"I really don't like this brochure, it's obvious they don't know how to feature colored
people. They don't realize you need to adjust your camera to take pictures/feature colored
people in publications"
-"No it's not about black or white, the fact is you have to deal with black people differently"
-To me/about me, "As you can see we've upped our appearance with hiring Elizabeth", "Elizabeth could you do the bit for us in this UN film, cause it will make our dept look better", "Well our one reservation about you doing this job is you're young, and a woman",
and finally yesterday the ultimate in professionalism "No Elizabeth, I'm sorry, but you
don't understand courtesy, you walk around here thinking you're smarter than everyone,
and you need to figure out how to learn some respect"(in a yelling voice in front of 5
colleagues).

-Italiana saves the day: And just when I thought I was about to lose my mind given the above, I was sent a gift in the form of two new Italian female colleagues, Paola and Laura. Italian women are a hard beast to crack and automatically skeptical of foreign women, and yet somehow this is my second female Italian gift at work. At IDB, I was sent Gloria who reinvigorated me and made my last six months there an ultimate pleasure (she's also to thank for me landing my current job), and now I have somehow gotten lucky again with Paola and Laura. They both started in September to help us finish up the project, and at first I was nervous, given that they're Italian and I now share an office with the two of them (as opposed to my former Spanish speaking colleagues). Paola is from Torino and went to Oxford, and I was preparing for ultimate snobbery and disdainfulness, and instead I got a new friend and confidante to laugh ourselves through the work illogicalness. Since she's from Torino, we initially bonded over my question of the difference between Gianduia and Bacio gelato (both hazelnut chocolate, but don't get Torinos started on Gianduia which is made there). She's been at FAO two years and has managed not to become 'one of them'. It is so refreshing to finally have someone who totally gets the insanity of not only the organization, but our project. Outside of work Paola also happens to be the friend I was waiting for - she's helping me on my quest to appear more Italian while making fun of me for doing it, she likes finding random clothing shops to go to after work to drown our sorrows and introduced me to the best little shoe shop (all shoes made in Torino of course), and best part - she has a scooter, and spoils me with rides around Rome. Laura is our new assistant and another breath of fresh air. Plus one for her that she actually speaks to me in Italian. Extra bonus point, is that she's promised to find me a TALL Italian boyfriend (Paola is trying to demand the tall boys for her, but she's short and I've told her that is selfish). The three of our contracts end in December and none of us have jobs so we're thinking of starting a bakery with America recipes, chocolate from Torino, and Laura's family to do the remodel and marketing - When in Rome

Proteins vs. Carbs: One argument I often have with my new office mates is regarding Italians love of carbs and our supposed fear of them. To fill you in if you're not aware, a typical Italian day goes likes this - Breakfast: Cookies (full stop), or if you're going to get fancy, Toast with honey, a Cornetto (croissant, chocolate or almond or jelly filled most likely); Lunch: Pasta, Meat, a Salad, Bread; Dinner: Pizza with Bread. I have had many any argument about how you need to eat protein for breakfast, even in the smallest form (milk in your cereal), to which I'm told, "You Americans, obsessed with protein. You don't need protein in the morning". I'm also often critiqued when I don't take bread with my pasta, this is unheard of and ridiculous. When I try to explain and say, "The pasta will already fill me up too much, I don't need the bread, I'll just have more salad or fruit or meat or ANYTHING else". To which I am told, "You Americans and your fear of carbs". I thought I had won the argument, well not really, you don't win an argument with an Italian, but I at least thought I'd made an impression, until I was told "Look at your life expectancy vs. ours and tell me you need more protein and less carbs". Well point taken Italy, I don't know how you do it - drinking wine everyday twice a day, chain smoking and not exercising, eating carbs and oil all day everyday, and tons of sugar - but I'm on board, maybe not for breakfast, but tell me your secret and I may come around.

Despite all the work craziness, I finally feel comfortable here, as I said in my last post (maybe it's all those scooter rides getting to my head) and I don't want to leave yet. I will have that to ponder over my upcoming limited city U.S./U.K tour. Tour dates include - NYC, ROC, and Seattle; and with a European appearance in London to finish off the journey in the Motherland. What I'm most looking forward to - seeing all of you that I will get to, seeing where my dear Mom will be starting her own new adventure, buying cheap American goods with my Euros, having at least one dance party, eating my weight in Mexican, sushi, brunch (with actual eggs), Wegmans subs, and having as many take away huge coffees as I want. And yes I know, I live in Italy and I have not forgotten that the food and coffee here are amazing - but sometimes, just sometimes, I miss America. So here I come - raise your glasses, get your dining tables ready and your stores open for business

While I'm away, my newest house guest (a mouse) will be taking care of my apartment. I've left him a note to not throw too many parties or get into my stuff, not let strangers in, clean up after himself, to make sure to take the garbage out, and above all - be gone by the time I'm back

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Secret Italy

Parque Nazionale di Abruzzo,
2 hrs from Rome and full of Bears!

So I was on the hunt for bears and truffles
since it now truffle harvest season

And low and behold I found both,
one not pictured here cause they are
in my stomach

Don't be confused, this is Italy, not
New Zealand. But even I didn't realize
how beautiful the mountains are just
a few hours from Rome

Small medieval town of Scanno, Abruzzo, Italia,
my most recent weekend sojourn

There may be no "real" beaches in Monte Argentario,
but there are unbelievable beach clubs set into the rocks
with catering galore, floating rafts, speedos, and the glistening
Mediterranean - only caveat you must know an Italian to get in
Yes please

The sunset from Monte Argentario,
looking out at the island of Giglio

When I haven't had visitors over the last two months I've tried to squeeze in as weekend trips as my days in Italy appear to be numbered. And as I realized in New Zealand, you don't actually feel like you live somewhere or start to feel normalish until about the six month. So here's a bit of what I've been up to in "my real life" in Italy and a few new things I've discovered:

The Best of Italy: Italians are brilliant in that they distract tourists with the David, duomos galore, pasta, the Colosseum, you know all that ancient stuff, and then they sit back and laugh while lounging in the most beautiful natural places that they keep to themselves and make hard to find. I've recently discovered, thanks to three nice Italians, three beautiful places in Italy I had never heard of and I could not possibly access without a car and a family name. I get it Italy - keep the best for yourselves, but while you're doing it, could you at least be a bit more friendly with a stray American who actually lives here? I promise I won't tell. These three secrets are staying safe with me in the hopes I get invited back or invited even further into what is secret Italy...
How to Be More Italian: When I walk around Rome people, mostly shopkeepers will yell at me in English, and I often wonder, "How do they know I'm not Italian?". I also pondered this with a few of my visitors and we couldn't figure it out. Now at first Italians when you ask them this will tell you things like - because your hair is blonde (yes to them I am a blonde even though there are many real Italians with hair far lighter than mine), because your eyes are blue (again many Italians with blue eyes), because you're tall (again). So the mystery for me continued and I wondered, how/what I can I do to be more Italian, what am I missing? My friend Claudio finally broke it down for me, while continually telling me he didn't want to offend me, and here's what he said:
1) My hair is too wild, or in American terms - undid. And after all this time I thought I was
becoming a lady by drying my hair, apparently not enough to pass as an Italian. Claudio
instructed me that I would need to at least visit the salon once a month if I was poor, and
once a week if I have any money. Mind you this conversation with Claudio occurred exactly two weeks after a haircut so I'm really in trouble. I guess my two visits per year are not cutting it - literally
2) My face is too natural - Claudio told me I don't wear enough makeup to be
Italian, ESPECIALLY the fact that I don't wear lipstick or foundation - dead give away.
3) My walk - Claudio instructed me that Italians walk like they are in a fashion show and with the one goal for everyone to look at them. My walking with a purpose and especially
making eye contact while I walk or smiling is not going to make me an Italian
4) My eyes - No not the color, but "the sincerity". Apparently Italians always look at
people with a certain level of skepticism and my eyes are too frank, too open.
5) My dress - this one I knew and is made more difficult between seasons like spring and
fall when it is not blazing hot nor freezing. Apparently I dress to openly (meaning my cardigan over my shirt is unbuttoned instead of buttoned up to my neck) and with too much color and I wear sandals and shorts too late/early in the season, and my clothes
are too loose. In case you weren't aware, Italians for some reason feel cold far more than
we do and at the same time have an obsession with boots and dark colors.
So the challenge is on, I am now going to see if I can't trick a few people (that is before I open my mouth, obvi) into thinking I'm Italian. At the same time, there's a few things I'm unwilling to compromise on - namely my dress. I refuse to wear winter gear when it is 80 degrees out still, and luckily winter will help me with this come December. In the meantime, I'm going to work on adding some skepticism to my eyes, sashaying down the sidewalk, while wearing lipstick with my hair did. Photos to come

Cooking and Eating - I've finally gotten into a rhythm with cooking and general ingredient having in my house - of course always prosciutto, three kinds of cheeses, flour, sugar, coffee, and milk. And with that I can make almost anything with a trip to the local veg/fruit market. Similar to NZed, Italians don't mess around with nonsense or pre-prepared items in cooking. Everything is simple and easy to make from scratch. I've taken to making a batch of pesto, hummus, and bread at the start of every week, even though the amount of garlic I put in my pesto and hummus would be abhorrent to any Italian. This week I also conquered a cinnamon nutella cake, baked eggplant parm layered with prosciutto, and realized soaking fresh mozzarella in truffle oil is synonymous with, or even better than, floating with my boobs in the Mediterranean. Now I haven't conquered making gnocchi yet and if you saw the size of my kitchen you would understand why, but it is on my list in these next 90 days before I have to (maybe) leave.

La Bella Figura - I alluded to it on many a previous post, but la bella figura is an expression in Italian to mean - making a good impression, but it carries much more significance that is not translatable. I've struggled since I've arrived with how to really live in Italy and somehow rectify living here with all the things of guidebooks, movies, novels, and all your expectations. In March, I searched desperately for a book that would help me with this quest and make me feel like what I was experiencing was more normal. I was continually annoyed and disgusted by the countless books on rehabing a farmhouse, eating your way across Italy, or falling in love while being scootered around Rome and Tuscany. Now while I'm not saying those things don't happen here, there is also real life apart and part of the fantasy that is most of what you hear back in the States. Well, where was my good friend Beppe when I needed him? I finally found a book, just released called La Bella Figura, all about the true Italian spirit and written for a non-Italian audience. We should have collaborated since he includes many subjects included here like "food facism" such as not being allowed to order a cappuccino after 11am or the horror on Italians faces if you sprinkle parmesan on a pasta dish with seafood, or the treatment you encounter when walking into a clothing shop versus a hotel. He also has enlightened me on the why of many things I experience here. For one, Italian's obsession with the aesthetic, or in layman's terms all things beautiful. Now a lot of this I love and have embraced - like the careful setting of a table or always having fresh flowers; but it also explains why things not so pretty don't get done/attended to. Beppe's next book is due out in October on how Berlusconi has managed to stay in power for over 15 years (the longest leader since Mussolini). Anyway, needless to say, Beppe is my new best friend and confidante

Friends - And speaking of friends and confidantes. I often joke here about the difficulty of making friends while living abroad, but Italy and FAO have truly given me a whole new ballgame. First, Italians are very insular especially if you don't speak Italian well. Mostly because they stay close to home and value family and friends from childhood and don't really veer from that circle. Second, FAO is a constant coming and going of international people and you never know how long anyone will stay. Two of my closest friends when I came - Lidia and Nick, have already departed for Germany and Sierra Leone. And now another two close friends - Simone and Marat are off to Budapest and Sweden. And Giuseppe travels 80 percent of the time. All of which finds me somewhere in the region between transient international friends and insular Italians with my quasi quasi Italian, and calling an author my new confidante. At the same time, I feel so busy with social requests and invitations that I'm not sure I could handle more "friends" here in Italy, especially if I'm ever going to rehab that farmhouse or master Italian cooking

-What's Next? - many of you have asked me when I'm coming "home" or what's next.....well your guess is as good as mine. My contract expires Dec 14th and my Visa expires Dec 31st, so unless I do as those books say and fall in love real quick and get married in a rehabbed countryhouse, while riding there on a scooter, and making the whole feast myself with my Italian culinary skills - my days in Italy are numbered. Next destination - TBD, all offers are welcome