Ben Franklin once said, “a working man is a happy man. It is the idle man who is the miserable man.” Good thing he lived in the United States, because he would have zero chance at fitting in anywhere in Italy with that mentality.

I had received constant advice on the cultural differences between Italy and the US during the months before my trip. I heard the Italians move slower, take their time with things instead of the “American rush”, and have a more relaxed ideology about their occupations. Although it was nice of everyone to try and help me out, no amount of advice could prepare me for the confusion I felt once I got to Italy.

The ideology behind work in the United States is pretty consistent no matter what the occupation: show up on time (if not early), follow the schedule, prepare to be fired if you don’t show up, and you get a reasonable amount of allotted vacation time. For a breakfast restaurant to be successful in the States, it needs to be open by 6:30 at the latest in order to catch the morning rush of businessmen. The first morning we went to get breakfast around 7:30 and we couldn’t find a single restaurant open before 8 (and those opening then were still very limited).

I understand the famous Italian siesta has been a part of the culture for hundreds of years but the concept still boggles my mind. I have never gotten above a C in a business class, so I am no expert, but wouldn’t it make sense that during the summer in one of the tourist capitals of the world the shops around the main tourist attractions would forget their siesta and make significantly more money? There were many times where I could go shopping during our break from school with a few friends and we would leave disappointed because all the shops we wanted to go to were closed, without a return time on the door. Five guys looking to spend seventy euro a piece on soccer jerseys turned away because of siesta—that is three-hundred-and-fifty euro down the drain. Judging by the crowded streets, I would guess we weren’t the only people unable to spend their money. Again, I fully understand “cultural differences” and accept them, but it just doesn’t make sense to me to turn down sales during the tourist high season. Its like the team shop being closed at an NBA arena during the playoffs; people are excited about making it here and are looking to spend their money!

I decided to investigate what other American business owners thought about the Italian philosophy towards work in order to learn other’s attitudes towards the great difference. Floyd Stefanksi, owner of Clearwater Pools Cleaning company based in Cleveland, said “I am not necessarily confused about the concept of siestas, but more jealous. Why wouldn’t you want to take a break in the middle of the day?” Interestingly enough, when I asked if her would ever allow his employees to take a mid-day break he laughed and responded, “Hell no”.

Traditional-italy.co.uk justifies the siesta because “having a siesta amakes people work more and better”. NASA’s scientists have said that taking a nap in the middle of the day for around thirty minutes recharges the brain, helps with memory, and concentration—they even claim that productivity goes up thirty-four percent.

If I owned a business in Italy I would get innovative with my siesta policy—the break would be allowed (yes please to the thirty-four percent increase in productivity), but instead of a uniform siesta time I would do it in shifts and stay open at all hours of the work day. You can’t let a little nap hold you back from making money during these rough economic times.

When I asked a fellow student, Anthony Scarpo, what he thought about siestas in Italy he responded by saying “I understand they are a longstanding tradition but if I were in charge of things in Italy I’d abolish the tradition and make money all day.” He was especially peeved during our conversation because he had just come back from an unsuccessful shopping trip. Every store was closed except the street vendors.

One afternoon I was walking past the Duomo after class, I wanted to get a scarf for my mother and was once again held back by the notorious siesta. For the first time I was thankful when a street vendor started to hassle me, I needed to investigate the siesta and pick up a gift. I asked him why he wasn’t on siesta and what his thoughts were on the whole concept. He responded that he was originally from Spain and siestas are a very common part of their culture so he was used to the break. I wondered if it was such large part of his life and culture why he wasn’t working right now and is answer was identical to my opinion. He said, “Most days in the summer I skip out on the siestas because most of the stores around here close and when people want to buy scarves then they have nowhere to go but to me.” Finally someone who knows how to get tactical with their business strategy!

During a conversation with Gabriel, the bartender at One-Eyed Jack, I asked him to explain why he feels siestas are important. He responded, “besides the long-standing tradition it is important for what it does for the family. It is a time to come together and spend time together—eat a nice meal, converse, then rest to recharge”. I asked him if he believed the tradition could ever become a normal part of American life, before responding he laughed then said “I highly doubt it. Americans are too “busy”, or at least trying to be busy even if they’re not. Always on the go you guys”.

Trying to be busy, that quote really resonated in my head after our conversation ended. Americans are so stuck on their schedule that they generally feel like if they are not doing anything they are doing something wrong. There have been so many times where I will be at the library and just surf the internet then realize I am completely wasting time—sometimes I feel like if I were doing the same thing at home if be mad at myself but just because I am at place were work gets done its tolerable. That is one of the biggest differences between Italians and Americans, once Italians are done working for the day they leave instead of dillydallying around the store or office.

Marta Mondelli, a writer for the Huffington Post addresses the “business practice” issue I previously discussed—“that’s quality of life: sacrificing the possibility of making some business for the tranquility of having a nice home-cooked meal.” That is definitive of different cultural ideologies, Americans always want to make more money and generally do what it takes to make the most possible while Italians care more about their well-being more than an extra sale or two.

Although siestas will probably never catch up back home and have gotten in the way of my shopping during this trip, I have a newfound respect for the tradition. Saving money, feeling better, increasing commodore are all great benefits—its time to get ride of this American schedule while living in an Italian life and embrace the siesta

Fair Taxi Rules in Venice

Since we were splitting the fair eight ways I was prepared to overpay when we called for a taxi to take us to the Aerosmith concert in Venice. But when we decided to cancel and still owed the driver fifty euro, I was completely baffled. How could you owe 50 euro for NOT taking a taxi? I felt violated and got defensive when we were talking about how to handle the situation. I argued that we should just walk away and if he wanted 50 euro he would need to steal our PIN numbers and hit up the local ATM. In the United States we have the freedom to change our mind; I didn’t know that the mere thought of needed something in Italy required payment.

With our newly lightened wallets we decided there were two ways to handle this situation: let it bother us and ruin the night or chalk it up as a loss and move on. Going into the trip I was prepared to handle all issues the second way—unless death or the law were involved there was no problem that was going to hold me down. We weren’t the first Americans to get taken advantage of in Italy and plenty more are to come—all I can hope is they brush it off as a good story and enjoy the sweet Venician experience.

The graffiti lined streets made me skeptical about Florence when I first arrived.

I started to appreciate the graffiti when I got lost on the first day and had to use this as a landmark to get home.

The great italian siesta: celebrated daily and honored but this large graffiti in Rome.
If the ancient ruins nearby werent enough of a reminder, graffiti such as this help you know where you are.

Prisoners in this abandoned jail cell scratched into the stone to do their variation of graffiti.

Stencil art is very popular on the walls of Italy. I am not a fan, if you can't draw it yourself dont put it on the walls.

My favorite piece of graffiti yet. A simple, uplifting message AND in english. perfect.

.

Graffiti is a great way to deliver messages to an audience that doesn't necessarily want to listen. I don't know what this is about, but someone was angry enough to paint their opinion.

Many pieces of graffiti are replicated across Florence. They are either gang signs or for a group of some kind and it seems like repetition is essential to seeming important in the world of wall art.

Some art is more complicated than others. This must have been made on bring your son to graffiti day.

Bob Dylan lyrics delivering philosophical messages in Rome. Nice

IF YOU GO: LUGANO

The four-day weekends that are provided by my study abroad program have given me a feeling of freedom unlike anything I have experienced before. Family vacations in the past have always been planned for months ahead of time with seemingly endless research. My trip to Switzerland was the complete opposite. While on a train with three of my friends we asked a random man where he thought we should go in Switzerland. He said Lugano because it’s beautiful. Sounded good to us—research complete. We bought our train tickets and decided to deal with finding a hostel when we got there. Some might call this decision adventurous and some may call it naïve; but either way, showing up in a foreign country with nowhere to stay is an invigorating experience. We walked around until we found a hostel called the Hostel Lugano Youth Hostel; there were open rooms, the price was right, and with a place to stay we were ready to start our adventures.

Riding the boxcar 912 meters (2,992 feet) to the top of Monte San Salvatore is a great way to see the beautiful city of Lugano, Switzerland. It felt like a cop-out to ride up a mountain just to hike down, but I’m a realist who knows his limits. I became more and more excited with every meter we climbed during our assisted ascension. My excitement was replaced by doubt once we finally got out of the pull-car. As I glanced at the path of rough terrain then down at my apparel (khaki shorts and Birkenstock sandals), I knew I needed to work with the tools I had and potentially play through some pain if I was going to enjoy myself. The tempo was set for the day as I jumped off a rock in excitement—my feet got caught on the landing and I continued to roll down the first hill. Besides a few scratches I was fine, and we made it safely down the rest of the mountain in about five hours. Although completely underprepared for the task at hand, we experienced all the essentials to a perfect day: beautiful weather, breathtaking nature, good conversation, and the occasional piece of Swiss cheese.

Lugano has all the necessities for a tourist hotspot: great locations near the Italian border, Monte San Salvatore for the thrill seekers, and Lake Lugano for water enthused fun. Since the city is just over an hour outside Italy, it is an easy stop for Italian locals or tourists seeking a slight change of scenery. For those who prefer to stay dry and ground level, shopping is the way to go. There are groupings of the finest designer shops such as Chanel and Burberry all over the “down-town” area. Downtown isn’t the best description because the shops are placed all the way up the populated side of the mountain; giving the city a San Fransisco-equ feeling.

Walking through Parco Civico (Ciani Park) by day is a great way to view Lake Lugano and the surrounding mountains without getting too adventurous. The winding trail takes you to the edge of the water and through gardens of colorful trees and flowers. On our afternoon walk through the park we passed a set of benches guarded by crimson red trees where a newlywed couple was slow dancing to the tune of a local elderly violinist. That’s the kind of sight that inspires scenes from romantic films and scars peoples perceptions of realistic relationships/weddings.

We had a blast in the park during the day and with no plans for the night we decided to head back for more around 10 pm. Talk about a change of pace! The newlyweds and friendly families were replaced by clusters of underage metal heads sporting shoulder length hair and black hard rock tee shirts. It’s hard to generalize a youth population based off one weekend, but it seems like these hard rockin’ trouble makers were the majority for teenagers in Lugano.

A local seventeen-year-old “Matt” (he would only give us his Americanized name), approached us while we were sitting on a railing overlooking the lake. He came up to us smiling and chanting “America” while pointing to the picture on his shirt—an American flag. I learned a great lesson about judging people by appearance from Matt; my initial judgments gave me the reading that he could pass for a typical mean American in his mid twenties, when in reality he was a friendly local seventeen year old. Matt stressed his desire to go anywhere in the United States and how it was unlikely that he would ever leave Lugano for financial reasons. When I pointed to the lake and the mountains and said it seems like a pretty great place to call home he laughed and said he “would rather go anywhere in the United States than live here”. I understand people desire change, but seeing someone unhappy living in a place like Lugano proves that the grass will always be greener on the other side.

Lugano’s city center was our host for some of the best people watching I’ve experienced. From typical European tourists to teenage metal heads and from food stands selling homegrown fruits to a stage hosting a reggae afro-drum extravaganza, Lugano continued to surprise me with its diversity. On our last night we saw a stage on our way to dinner; we decided to let our curiosity lead us back there to investigate after our meal. We didn’t know who was playing, but we assumed it was some kind of representation of Swiss culture, (what did I expect? Switzerland to catch wind of our visit and put on a festival in our honor to display it’s national strong points—now THAT is an American mentality). When twelve Africans ran onstage in full Rasta gear with an assortment of drums I was completely shocked. They put on one of the best performances I’ve seen in years; their ability to get the crowd involved and enthusiastic with a language barrier was an interesting experience. I couldn’t tell who was having a better time: the barefoot wookies in the front row, the infants dancing behind them, or the groups of elderly women hopping around to the Afro-beat.

Later, we started talking to a thirty-three year old waiter named Julius. I asked him how he felt about living in Lugano and if its status as a tourist hotspot ever bothered him. He responded, “I have lived in many places in Europe and Lugano is by far my favorite. It is beautiful and business has been going well so I have no complaints.” In response to the tourist question he said, “What’s the problem with living in a place where the faces are always changing but the great location stays the same?” For Julius, it looks like the grass is just green enough.

TRANSPORTATION:

Trains are the best way to get to and from Lugano. The station was directly above our hostel (less than a five minute walk). Watch out for strikes when taking the trains though, we were stuck in Milan for seven hours because the workers didn’t feel like doing their job that day.

WHERE TO EAT:

Our experience with food was limited due to the high cost of a last minute international trip, so my recommendations are limited. When we decided it was time to eat we would wonder around the main city center and eat fresh fruit and sandwiches at stands owned by locals.

WHERE TO STAY:

The Hostel Lugano Youth Hostel is the perfect option for the money conscious young traveler. Our “room” was five beds (minus bed frames) pushed together to make one giant bed. Weird? Yes, but for thirty-two American dollars a night it was the best option. The rooms were just nice enough and the employees couldn’t have been more accommodating to us.

http://www.hihostels.com/dba/hostels-Lugano-055061.en.htm

Gabriele

The massive Gabriele stood hovering over the bar washing glasses when I walked into One-Eyed Jacks in Firenze, Italy. At first glance he looks like the type of guy you might want to avoid while in a foreign country: tattoos up his arm, shaved head, and a body size that gives me the presumption that he would break the plate in his hand if he scrubbed with anything but a gentile stroke.

Gabriele’s tattoo covered arms tell the story of his life. When I asked him if his tattoos meant anything he said “my tattoos are all about my life journey.” From stories about his band, J.K Tolkien references, to the story his broken heart his tattoos are pictures to help describe his story.

Interview

Gabriel Guazziri

36 years old

Q: What Is your full name, birthday, and occupation

A: Gabriel Guazziri, born March 17, 1974 and I own/work at One Eyed Jacks Restaurant and Bar.

Q: How long have you worked at One Eyed Jacks?

A: Next Saturday I will be celebrating my anniversary? One Eyed Jacks will be one year old.

Q: That is exciting, how did you get the business started?

A: I was in Seattle for a few months before I moved back to Firenze and I had a friend who already owned a restaurant and few bars. I went to him for a partnership and that is about it.

Q: What do your tattoos say?

A: My tattoos are all about my journey. This one (on his right forearm) is a tree about who I am and my roots. It is about my band on the top and the roots have Kurt Cobain’s initials because he was my biggest musical influence. On my left arm I have a quote by J.R Tolkien. And on my back I have a broken heart with a lady underneath for a large chapter in my life ending.

Q: If you don’t mind me asking, what does that mean?

A: Sure, I was with a girl for eight years. She ended things with me one day and I packed up my things, quit my job, and got on the first plane to Seattle.

Q: I see the quote behind you on the wall says everyone needs to believe in something, are you religious?

A: I am not a religious person, but I do believe there is something bigger out there although I do not know what it is. So many things in life are connected it shows that. Nothing in life can be planned. If you were to tell me two years ago when I was with that girl that I would have moved to Seattle then back and open my own restaurant I wouldn’t believe you.

Q: Would you consider yourself a “go with the flow kind of guy”?

A: Oh yes. I’d say that defines the kind of life I live.

The Grass is Greener in Lugano

Riding the boxcar 912 meters (2,992 feet) to the top of Monte San Salvatore is a great way to see the beautiful city of Lugano, Switzerland. Some might call it a cop-out to ride up a mountain just to hike down, but I’m a realist who knows his limits. I became more and more excited with every meter we climbed during our assisted ascension. My anticipation was greeted by doubt once I got off the pull-car. As I glanced at the path of rough terrain then down at my apparel (khaki shorts and Birkenstock sandals), I knew I needed to work with the tools I had and potentially play through some pain if I was going to enjoy myself. The tempo was set for the day as I jumped off a rock in excitement—my feet got caught on the landing and I continued to roll down the first hill. Although completely underprepared for the task at hand, we safely made it down the mountain and experienced all the essentials to a perfect day: beautiful weather, breathtaking nature, good conversation, and the occasional piece of Swiss cheese.

Lugano is made from the ultimate recipe for a successful tourist location: Lake Lugano for water stimulated fun, Monte San Salvatore for the thrill seekers, and its location near the Italian border. Since the city is just over an hour outside Italy, it is an easy stop for Italian locals or tourists seeking a slight change. For those who prefer to stay dry and ground level, shopping is the way to go. There are groupings of the finest designer shops all over the “down-town” area. Downtown isn’t the best description because the shops are placed all the way up the populated side of the mountain; giving the city a San Fransisco-equ feeling.

Walking through Parco Civico (Ciani Park) by day is a great way to view Lake Lugano and the surrounding mountains at ground level. The winding trail takes you to the edge of the water and through gardens of colorful trees and flowers. On our afternoon walk through the park we passed a set of benches guarded by crimson red trees where a newlywed couple was slow dancing to the tune of a local elderly violinist. That’s the kind of sight that inspires scenes from romantic films and scars peoples perceptions of realistic relationships/weddings.

We had a blast in the park during the day and with no plans for the night we decided to head back for more around 10 pm. Talk about a change of pace! The newlyweds and friendly families were replaced by clusters of underage metal heads sporting shoulder length hair and black hard rock tee shirts. Its hard to generalize a youth population based off one weekend, but it seems like these hard rockin’ trouble makers were the majority for teenagers in Lugano. A local seventeen-year-old “Matt” (he would only give us his Americanized name), approached us while we were sitting on a railing overlooking the lake. He came up to us smiling and chanting “America” while pointing to the picture on his shirt—an American flag. I learned a great lesson about judging people by appearance from Matt; my initial judgment told me that he was a mean American in his mid twenties when in reality he was a friendly local seventeen year old. Matt stressed his desire to go anywhere in the United States and how it was unlikely that he would ever leave Lugano for financial reasons. When I pointed to the lake and the mountains and said it seems like a pretty great place to call home he laughed and said he “would rather go anywhere in the United States than live here”. I understand people desire change but seeing someone unhappy living in a place like Lugano proves that the grass will always be greener on the other side.

Lugano’s city center was our host for some of the best people watching I’ve experienced. From typical European tourists to teenage metal heads and from food stands selling homegrown fruits to a stage hosting a reggae afro-drum extravaganza, Lugano continued to shock me with its diversity. On our last night we saw a stage on our way to dinner; we decided to let our curiosity lead us back there to investigate after our meal. We didn’t know who was playing, but we assumed it was some kind of representation of Swiss culture, (what did I expect? Switzerland to catch wind of our visit and put on a festival in our honor to display it’s national strong points—now THAT is an American mentality). When twelve Africans ran onstage in full Rasta gear with an assortment of drums I was completely shocked. They put on one of the best performances I’ve seen in years; their ability to get the crowd involved and enthusiastic with a language barrier was fun to experience. I couldn’t tell who was having a better time: the barefoot wookies in the front row, the infants dancing behind them, or the groups of elderly women hopping around to the Afro-beat drum circle. At this diverse festival we started talking to a thirty-three year old waiter named Julius. I asked him how he felt about living in Lugano and if its status as a tourist hotspot every bothered him. He responded, “I have lived in many places in Europe and Lugano is by far my favorite. It is beautiful and business has been going well so I have no complaints.” In response to the tourist question he said, “What’s the problem with living in a place where the faces are always changing but the great location stays the same?” For Julius, it looks like the grass is just green enough.

WHERE TO STAY:

The Hostel Lugano Youth Hostel is the perfect option for the money conscious young traveler. Our “room” was five beds (minus bed frames) pushed together to make one giant bed. Weird, yes; but for thirty-two American dollars a night it was the best option. The rooms were just nice enough and the employees couldn’t have been more accommodating to us.

http://www.hihostels.com/dba/hostels-Lugano-055061.en.htm

WHERE TO EAT:

Our experience with food was limited due to the high cost of a last minute international trip so my recommendations are limited. When we decided it was time to eat we would wonder around the main city center and eat fresh fruit and sandwiches at stands owned by locals. This actually was one of the highlights of the trip for me because ordering fresh Swiss food from Swiss locals made me feel like a local more than another aspect of our visit.

Transportation:

Trains are the best way to get to and from Lugano. The station was directly above our hostel (less than a five minute walk). Watch out for strikes when taking the trains though, we were stuck in Milan for seven hours because the workers didn’t feel like doing there job that day.