The ANNOTICO Report

Is it the dress, the facial expression, the posture, the openness, the
walking pace, the shoes, the fingernails, pastels, stage presence, notion
of personal space, laid-back casualness, self centeredness.....????
 

Chicago Sun Times
By Maureen Jenkins
February 20, 2005

FLORENCE, Italy -- Mentally rehearsing my best imitation of an Italian
signora at the market, I strode confidently up to the meat and cheese
counter at Standa, a grocery store near the famed Piazza Santa Croce, ready
to order fresh spinach for that evening's meal. Decked out from head to toe
in looks I'd bought while living in Italy --from oversized opaque shades to
a caramel-colored leather coat, from superslim Italian jeans to
4-inch-heeled black boots -- I thought I looked the part. After waiting on
and chatting in Italian with a couple of local customers, the young butcher
turned, took one look at me, and belted out a cheerful "Good morning!"

Stunned, all I could think was, "How does he know I speak English?" And
simultaneously I thought (me, being a transplant trying my best to dress
like a local), "Does he think I am American?" "

OK, so I'm obviously not Italian by heritage, but with my African-twisted
hair, I could be a sister from anyplace in the diaspora -- Paris, London --
the Caribbean, even. But the Standa encounter got me thinking:

Why are we Yankees so recognizable, no matter where we go -- and before we
even open our mouths?

I have to admit: Even though I just got here five months ago, I too play
the "spot-the-American" game.

Whenever I eye someone in a jacket from The North Face, burdened down by an
over-stuffed JanSport backpack, wearing loose-fitting jeans and swigging
water from a plastic bottle, I can be pretty sure they're from a Red or
Blue state.

Plus, we Americans like to smile and make eye contact, especially when we
pass others on the street (not always a good thing for women to do, as
over-eager European men may take that as a come-on).

And those of us from big cities probably walk a bit faster and more
purposefully than other folks, even when all we're doing is sightseeing or
shopping.

Culture involves a set of learned behaviors, of conscious and subconscious
ways of thinking, living and being that involves everything from unspoken
body language to posture, from how we walk to the facial expressions we
wear. And especially in Italy -- where la bella figura, or making a
beautiful impression, is adhered to like a religion -- dress is often the
clearest giveaway to our American roots.

"It's the shoes," says Florence cooking instructor Cindy Harding, a native
Californian who's lived here for 25 years. She knows Italians and other
Europeans believe in wearing the best footwear they can afford, even with
their casual clothes. While there are exceptions, American tourists think
comfort first, which means sneakers, flip-flops or "practical shoes."

Also, Harding says, "The nails are a giveaway. If you want to go to Europe
and want to be looked at as a European, don't get a French manicure."
Italian women's fingers and arms may be covered in fabulous jewelry, she
says, but their nails rarely are perfectly sculpted and painted -- a
notable departure for a culture that's all about presentation. I recalled
hearing the manicure bit soon after I arrived in Florence, as my friend
Loran -- a young Serbian man who works at the Pitti Palace hotel next to
the landmark Ponte Vecchio and lives in my building -- glanced at my hands
and remarked how American women always have such well-groomed nails. (My
digits look decidedly Italian these days; I can't recall the last time I
had them done in Florence.)

For tour guide Cindy Nesti -- a native Kansan who married an Italian man
and has lived here for three decades -- pastel sweaters and pants tell her
when she's encountered a fellow American. But it's the intangible openness
that confirms it for Nesti, who leads upscale tours of Florence. "It's a
kind of softer smile, a less hard look," she says. "More open, a little
more vulnerable."

Ugo and Anna Vacca agree. For the past six years, they've operated the
Snack Bar Arno, a corner establishment one block from the tourist-swarmed
Ponte Vecchio. Their clientele ranges from local Italian workers who stop
in daily for a quick espresso to weary foreign tourists looking to rest
their feet and feed their stomachs. Even before we say a word, we're
recognizable because "American people are more like South Italian people,"
says Ugo, who like his wife hails from Naples. "When they walk and move,
they want to say, 'I'm here.' Not arrogance, but more precise."...

Stacie Henderson hails from Kansas City, Mo., but she's a fragrance brand
manager at the legendary Salvatore Ferragamo fashion house here in
Florence,... [and she speaks of "self assurrance" that] sometimes seems
like an inherited trait for many European women, whether they're sporting
designer wear or not.

French women, for example, have been "trained from a young age to carry
themselves in public as if everyone's watching you," says cultural
anthropologist Kathleen Adams, an associate professor at Chicago's Loyola
University and the daughter of a French mom and Midwestern dad. "The idea
of presentation of self says something about who you are, the idea you're
putting forth an image of someone who has class and taste. You're always on
stage, and Americans aren't reared to think about creating a stage
presence."

But it's the notion of personal space that's most striking to Adams when
she travels abroad. "My European and Southeast Asian friends have often
commented to me that 'Americans take up a lot of space,' " says Adams, who
lived in France for 1-1/2 years during college. "And certainly, in
comparison to how French, Italians and Southeast Asians use space, we seem
to occupy more of it, be it on the sidewalk, or in a restaurant, or in an
airport." Adams -- whose current research focuses on the impact of
politics, culture and tourism on an Indonesian island community -- cites an
example: "We enter an empty cafe, and we might put our bags on one chair
and our feet on another.

"Particularly in urban Europe, people are used to having to accommodate
each other in terms of space," Adams says, whereas Americans are used to
more physical room, whether in their houses, yards -- even cars. "Families
live in apartments on top of each other, so people have centuries of
experience in learning to respect each other's privacy and space. The idea
of getting into each other's way doesn't strike most Americans."

And neither does the notion that our laid-back casualness -- whether how we
dress or where we place our stuff -- might offend.

Despite the elegant garb that's de rigueur for her job at Ferragamo,
Henderson loves jumping back into American dress when in Kansas City. "I've
been here [in Florence] for three years and I still can't understand why I
can't wear sweat pants. Italian women say they would only wear sweat pants
in the gym," she laments. In the States, "I love the fact you can walk
around with a baseball hat and flip-flops, a little tank top and a Prada
bag, and you're still cute."

When on the European side of the Atlantic, I prefer when in Rome (or Paris
or London or Madrid) to do as the locals do. My toes may get a little
pinched by the pointed-toe boots that are in vogue here, but so be it. If
nothing else, I see it as insurance against having pickpockets target me
because I'm so obviously a tourist from abroad.

But who am I kidding? I may be a Midwestern Yankee, but when I get back to
the States, my "practical shoes" are going to stay in storage. As one of my
good friends once advised during a trip to Rome, I'm going to bring my
Italian attitude home with me and strut around in stilettos like I'm Sophia
Loren.

http://www.suntimes.com/output/
travel/tra-news-abroad20.html