Supermercato

At the end of last year I added yet another store to my list of "I-will-never-shop-there-again." It is a long story, but suffice it to say that in Italy, you often end up begging to be allowed to spend your money in certain stores. Although this can be charming or quaint in some shops, it is not an attitude I was prepared to deal with on a daily basis in the grocery store. Luckily, just as I added the GS on Via dei Fornaci to my ever growing list, we received our Vatican "tessera" which allows us to use the Vatican Commissary.  

This was a real boon for many reasons - and not just because I cut our grocery shopping options in half when I shouted, "I will never shop in this supermarket again!" as we stormed out of GS. The commissary is much closer to our house than the old store for one thing. Also, items that are heavily taxed in Italy are much cheaper there (i.e. wine and liquor) and for some reason-perhaps it is the proximity to the Pope-everyone in there is much nicer than in the outside world. I wouldn't say that a line actually forms at the deli counter, but people do tend to be somewhat attentive to who is ahead of them. The checkout clerk even bags my groceries - in FREE plastic bags no less! As you can imagine, paying and bagging your groceries at the same time is nearly  impossible so you either end up holding up the line, or more often, sorting your items out of a pile of the next person's purchases. I'm content now to not confront that anxiety everyday.

Before my first visit to the commissary I heard that they were well known for having the best selection of meat in Rome. I immediately began craving a nice seared filet - a rare find here. I thought for a minute that I was in paradise as I approached the butcher's vast case full of animal parts of all types but when I asked for filet, they said they were out of it. There were enough other options that I wasn't that disappointed but when they didn't have filets the next time I was there, I started to wonder...I thought Romans would be more likely to order tripe than steak? On my third attempt, the butcher, by now recognizing me, suggested I come earlier in the day. I was shopping towards closing time, and I had noticed by the late afternoon things did look a bit picked over. One day all the bakery had left was baguette since they had sold out of the other 24 kinds of bread they stock. There was also the time that the fish section had only one sad fish left. I could only imagine there was a reason the discerning Italian casalingas had passed it up. There had even been days when they were out of fresh milk! I decided to come at 2 pm the next time and shop from what I only assumed would be a more abundant selection. I did notice that the store didn't seem quite so ravaged at that hour, but the early birds had still gotten my filet! Apparently goodies like beef filets, langoustines, fresh milk and a choice of the kind of bread you eat are special treats reserved for retired people and the lucky few who don't have to work.

Almost as a rhetorical question I said, "What is a working girl to do?" I didn't really expect a response other than perhaps the typical, "Che ci posso fare?" meaning, "What can I do about it?" I was surprised when the butcher gave me the number of the butcher department and suggested that I call in the morning when I wanted some filets. I did mention that people are exceptionally kind in this grocery store but I was surprised even by this. The Vatican is truly another country.

Scaricare TV

If you have read my earlier posts, you know that the television in Italy leaves much to be desired. At first we watched with a morbid curiosity but a year into our adventure here, the novelty has worn off. 

When we gave up watching the two RAI stations which run dubbed reruns of "Murder She Wrote" during the day and cheesy game shows at night, we put the three English channels into rotation: CNN international, CNBC and BBC international. The programing on each is essentially repeating the same news show every hour. Once we had seen the show enough that we were able to quote the anchor, we would change to the next station. The rest of the 100 or so stations available on our satellite are in German, including the one channel which gets sports coverage. We watched the Olympics entirely in German, an experience we credit with our ability to say "Divingboard" and "Track and Field" in German. 

For a while after the Olympics ended, I was getting some excitement from watching the live currency exchange rates scroll across the bottom of the BBC. This made for a fun game of our own type of "currency trading." When the euro got down to around $1.21 or so I would run to the ATM as fast as I could. Unfortunately in reviewing my bank statements I realized that the bank averages the rate for the day. So much for that form of entertainment - time to try something else.

We returned home this summer with the goal of purchasing a new computer with which to download TV shows. I could hardly contain myself as I found NBCs website offering full episodes of The Office, a show whose loss I have mourned daily since our move to Italy. I should have known it was too good to be true - as soon as I clicked "download" a message popped up telling me that the video could not be downloaded "from your area". Apparently there is some rule that prevents you from downloading American television unless you actually live in America, where Tivo and OnDemand are ubiquitous (at least as ubiquitous as computers and high speed internet connections). 

After our disappointment with network websites, we were enthused to discover the entertainment buffet on offer at iTunes (even though NBC shows weren't available). The choices are not as vast as Netflix, but for those who follow the ebb and flow of the dollar for fun, iTunes is a goldmine. We picked a movie to rent and clicked. We watched wide-eyed as it showed up in our downloading queue with tiny subscript beneath the progress bar: "2 hours to download." 2 hours...I began calculating how many more rounds of CNN's news broadcast we would have to watch as we waited. Unfortunately, many, many rounds of the same news; I noticed the time had begun slowly creeping upwards. It didn't stop until it reached 24 hours. We suddenly realized that we had failed to factor in the limited bandwidth in Italy which makes the internet connection match the pace of the government offices here. 

Although planning our TV viewing 24 hours in advance has put a slight damper on things, we are excited every day to see the new offering on iTunes. Yesterday I noticed The Office was now available! With the downloads going 24 hours a day and the computer left on all night, we might be able to get season 4 downloaded before season 5 is over! 

Scorpione

On Sunday Chris and I were introduced to another form of Italian "wildlife." I was still snoozing in bed when Chris yelled from the bathroom, "There is some kind of crustacean in here." I heard "incrustation" since incrustation is a familiar thing in our bathroom as the water is so hard here that you can litterally see calcium floating in it. In fact the #1 cleaning product in the grocery store is called "Disincrostante."  

"Where is it?" I asked. 

"Between the toilet and the sink," Chris replied. 

"Well, that could be almost anything," I said. 

"NO, I mean a CRUSTACEAN" 

"What? Like a crab?" Now I was wide awake. By the time I got to the bathroom Chris had stunned the "crustacean" with a shoe. Although I had never seen one in real life, I knew it was a scorpion. Three graduate degrees between us and all we know about scorpiones comes from an Indiana Jones movie where Indy says that when it comes to scorpions, bigger is actually better (i.e. less poisonous). We both stared at the tiny scorpion. Chris wacked it again with the shoe.

Once I had my shoes on I went to the computer for internet research, where I found that large and small doesn't necessarily mean anything when it comes to scorpions. Apparently the types found in Italy - large or small - are generally not too poisonous. In fact, when I told one of my coworkers we found a scorpion in the house, he said the frightening creatures signify good luck. I would believe that, but Italians have a way of saying anything bad that happens to you means you are lucky including being pooped on by a bird, spilling champagne, or getting soaked by rain on your wedding day.

The moral of the story is, you can't trust all the information that you find in an Indiana Jones movie. I'm starting to wonder now about the aliens teaching the Mayan Indians farming...