There’s a weirdness about Italy that is not particularly peculiar to Italy but, in my view, the extent is peculiar.

It’s about secrecy. In all aspects of Italians’ lives, it seems, they have a contradictory and irreconcilable view on their privacy.

Being a rather bold statement, I suppose I had better explain.

Our smoking room is being moved. The room we have been using, at work, also doubled as a meeting room (Meeting Room 2). For most of the time it was used for smoking. There are about 6 people (out of about 20) on this floor that smoke.

Two of them, being directors, smoke in their own offices. One of the others chooses to go downstairs and spend time with his colleagues downstairs when smoking (and anyway, only smokes a few cigarettes a day) leaving three of us, die-hard smokers who tend to go there about once per hour.

But now there is a sign on the door asking us to NOT smoke, please, in this office. I first knew about this some weeks ago. I was told (by one of the smokers who is the most gossipy woman I know) that someone was being employed by the company and that this room would be their office. We are to be moved downstairs to what was an archive room. It’s about half the size of the current room and right next to reception.

But rumour is rife. Who can it be that is coming here and who is going to have such a large office?

>Now that the sign has gone up, the rumours are becoming more rampant. I am now told that it is an assistant to the Managing Director. But no-one really knows. We are, apparently, awaiting the instructions for our network guy to prepare the computer and then we shall know.

Not that I’ve expressed my opinion out loud, but I can on this blog as no-one here will read it. I think it’s the Colonel who has been a consultant but is now to come here full-time. I’ll let you know if I’m right.

I’m sure there is a good reason why people are being secretive about it but I fail to see why they should be. Why not, even a couple of weeks back, pass the word around as to who it will be and why they are here? What is there to lose?

A couple of weeks ago, the Purchasing Manager went on holiday for three days. A week or so before that, we were talking and she told me where she was going and who with (it was a long weekend with some friends). However, no-one else knew. And by that I mean her assistant didn’t know a) where she was and b) for how long. I don’t mean that she should have given an itinerary, but at least say beforehand something like ‘I will be away for three days from next Wednesday’.

And then there’s the publication, on the web, of the salaries of everyone, done as some sort of spite thing, maybe, by Prodi’s outgoing government. People are very angry. I understand why.

But. And here’s the big BUT. Everyone has to have an Identity Card and you have to have a form of identity with you at all times. Every time you check into a hotel; hire a pair of skating blades; pay by credit card; you must show or give them the ID card. For a hotel, a list of the names and ID card numbers are given to the Police.

And for every (well, not quite every) financial transaction, you must have a codice fiscale (Fiscal Code – our nearest equivalent would be the NI number). And I have heard that this now extends to when you buy something from a chemist (I will find out next month when I have to buy stuff for the dog(s)).

There is no real secrecy here. And, yet, the obsession of being secret – not telling someone exactly what is happening or why you are doing something pervades, it seems, every part of their lives. And they get quite uptight with the idea that stuff must be kept from others. I know that in the UK we have the same thing but here, it seems to border on obsessiveness.

And the latest. Dino (picture above) is due with us on 18^th May. I had planned to take the whole week off. This year, instead of the usual, the factory will close for two weeks only in August.

The normally 3^rd week can be taken at any time between June and September. I want to take it for the week we get Dino. Except I also have clients coming to witness some testing in that week. Now, because it’s technical I won’t be needed for all of it but I guess I should be here for some of it. A suggested that I tell the office it was ‘family reasons’ and just take it off anyway. But I’m afraid I cannot. So I spoke with the MD and told her why and she, at first, suggested that I bring Dino in. I explained that that wasn’t such a good idea being as he was a new puppy. Then she suggested that, maybe, I could do one or a couple of half-days in the office.

So I guess that’s what I will do. I mentioned it to A and he was horrified that I had told her the real reason. My comment is – why not? If she had a real problem with it then, obviously I can leave and go back to teaching or something.

Anyway, I have now confirmed with her that I shall probably come in for half a day on the Monday and half a day on their last day here. I’m sure that will be fine. And then I shall take the following Monday off so that V&I can have the day off together as V will be taking the UK Bank Holiday, of course. But that changes from the start of June! More in another post.

So, at the end of the day, the things for which the Italians retain a high level of secrecy seem, to me, to be strange and misguided. Salaries – OK; going on holiday – maybe not, eh? I probably haven’t explained it very well, for which I apologise.

In the meantime, Dino is really cute, isn’t he? Perhaps the same can’t be said for the bloke holding him ….?