By Jacelyn KeysUnfortunately, stereotypes inform much of our worldview. Regardless of how hard we work to identify and dispel these uninformed bits of ‘knowledge’, it seems they continue to worm their way into our daily life and lexicon. I have discovered several strongly held stereotypes of my own as I have moved through existing in a country where I do not speak the native language.
The Italian language is a romance language, but because of the accents (the stress placed on a specific syllable, not an individual’s actual accent) and the somewhat boisterous nature of the culture, it can sound harsher than French or even Spanish to my ears. Not guttural like German, but impatient and demanding. Because of this (and perhaps a few movies) I expected Italian men to be impatient, curt, and arrogant.
As Deanna and I waited in line to get tickets for the Metro in Rome, we noticed an impeccably dressed man standing behind us. He seemed frustrated with the speed of the line and occasionally stepped out of line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long. When it was our turn to purchase a ticket from the automated machine, Deanna stepped to the screen and began the arduous task of learning a new system in a foreign language. The same man stepped up to her and, not wanting to inconvenience him, she offered to let him go first. “No” he said, shaking his head, “I help you.” He proceeded to teach us, with great patience, how to purchase metro tickets. Both of us were surprised by his desire and graciousness in helping us. We might still be standing there were it not for his thoughtfulness.
In Cagli, there have been innumerable acts of kindness from locals that have made the transition to a country without shared language bearable. In my experience, most of these acts of kindness have been from men.
There was the man who gave up on giving me directions to the small fruit stand and took time away from his day to walk me there. Massimo, the owner of a small café, presented me with both an Italian menu and a Google translation menu in English. He also gave me permission to call him Max (the English version of his name) if it made me more comfortable. A delightful older gentleman walked me around the piazza just so he could practice his English and I could practice my Italian. An archer followed me all the way up stairs in the school to return the lens cap from my camera right before he was to begin a competitive round of shooting.
Human beings inherently categorize information. The danger is not in the categorizing; that is a biological imperative to help us organize all the information we receive on a daily basis. The danger is believing and acting upon the belief that our categorizations are correct and apply to everyone unilaterally. My experiences in Cagli have all served to remind me of how important it is to constantly question the information you know you know. Ask how that information came to be a part of your knowledge base. Actively seek opportunities to challenge your perceptions and beliefs. And, for the love of heaven, be open. People may just surprise you if given the opportunity.
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ReplyDeleteHi - I'm a friend of Deanna's. I agree with your observation. I've experienced the same thing. They have insisted on lifting my luggage on the overhead rack, helping with directions, etc.
ReplyDeleteWhy do they do this? It's not because of me, it's because of them.
My guess is two-fold: 1) Mothers are esteemed in Italy (and by extension women), 2) Their parents (Mamas?) teach them that men are expected to help women.
It's a good thing it was two women that needed help, because here's the other half of the story. If there is a man with you and you're lost, then watch what happens. The people will still help but they'll look at the guy as if he's fallen down on his job. It will be subtle, but it will be there. :)