Walking into the terminal we were smiling, and if we had learned how to say it before-hand, we would’ve looked at each other and laughed, ‘io non parlo italiano.’ Evidently it’s ridiculously easy to get into Italy from EU members: they merely have to flash their passport, and not even the picture page, to the customs officer and they get waved through. Although the non-EU line was much shorter it took a little longer because they actually look at our passports and stamp them. When we got our bags I noticed that mine was open at the top, it was probably because it was too full. I later found out that the only things missing were the towel I stole from Paris, and a long-sleeved shirt I had bought in Orléans… not a big loss though.
We were supposed to be meeting Dee’s friend Alex (Alessandro) at the airport. As we were leaving the arrival area and baggage claim to the sea of faces that always awaits, I was looked every where for a girl who’s face I didn’t know when suddenly I heard, ‘Dany!’ I turned and saw Dee hugging a gorgeous Italian girl… so I supposed that was Alex. I supposed right. She drove us to her place, which was a (I think) rather chic apartment with her mom and older sister. When she first picked us up she didn’t remember a lot of English, but by the time we left she was translating for her friends. Her mom doesn’t speak any English, but damn can she make pizza. She made us two pizzas that night. The first was all right: thick-crust with no cheese or regular pizza sauce. I don’t really remember the topping, but it was a little burned. The second however… Again, thick crust, no cheese or sauce, but smothered in peppers that tasted like they had been slow-roasted for hours in deliciousness.
After dinner we got to call our families to let them know we had made it ok. Then Alex made some calls and asked if we wanted to go meet some of her friends. We had about an hour and a half until they picked us up, so we put in a little internet time, then set to work learning some basic Italian: io ho fame/sierto, io sonno stanca, io studio francese e educazzione, and io non parlo italiano. Translations: I am hungry/ thirsty, I am tired, I study French and education, and I don’t speak Italian. We brought along our little paper of phrases and our French-Italien dictionary when we went out.
I guess the Italien idea of hanging out is crazily-driving to a parking lot and meeting your friends there. We met quite a few people that first night, but I really only remember three of them: Frenchie (Francesco), Giorgio, and Genie (Genero). However many of them there was, we laughed a lot at not being able to understand each other. Most of them had at least rudimentary English skills, but Frenchie and Genie could speak pretty well so they and Alex helped translate. The funniest part had to be when one of them tried to say an English phrase or expression. For example, we said our feet were frozen, like ice cream. Frenchie took that and said ‘your feet are like ice cream?’ Then Genie went way off and came in with, ‘ cheese ice cream?’ Frenchie took this back into ‘you have cheese ice cream feet?’ We also learned a few slang and dialect terms that I won’t repeat here.
After quite some time in this parking lot, everyone agreed that we were cheese ice-cream feet so we left. But we weren’t going right home. They wanted to give us a little taste of Napoli first, so we were driven around for a while (I swear it takes 20 minutes to get any where no matter how fast they drive). We stopped at a little patisserie/ ice cream shop. They bought us croissants, but they weren’t just plain ones. They were warmed up and inside they spread both regular nutella and white nutella. Strange. Finally they brought us home sometime in the morning and we slept our first night in Italia.
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