New Year’s celebrations

I love Italy.  I love the Italians.  I think I love the Italian way of life, but it’s more complicated than it seems at first, which is to be expected.  I love the culture.  I love the buildings (and, in particular, many buildings in Milan).  I expected much more red-tape, but, so far, I have been pleasantly surprised.

BUT, don’t go thinking that living in Italy is just like living in the UK, but with better food and more red-tape.  It’s not the same at all.  Of course, I’m sure you can go to certain areas (Tuscany, maybe), where there will be enclaves of British folk living their British way of life, but in a beautiful setting and where, should you wish, you need not worry too much about actually living with the Italians.

However, to live and work in Italy and try to become a part of their life, rather than make them fit into your life is so very hard.  There are so many differences.  We are trying, but know that we have to be in it for the long-haul.

We went to a New Year’s party last night.  It was hosted by an Italian (F) and her girlfriend (S, who is German, but has lived in Milan for 20 years).  There were about 30 other people there.  How do Italians celebrate New Year?  Well, first they have a big dinner.

The dinner lasted for about two and a half hours!  There were many “courses”, though each was small.  There was a lot of wine and prossecco and water.  A few people got a little tipsy, but, in general, no-one got roaring drunk, which is the norm here (and, if I may say, it is very pleasant to know that people will not become aggressive or really stupid).  There was much talking.  A slight problem here in that we do not speak Italian fluently.  However, we can understand quite a lot.

There were a few people who spoke English, which was good as it gave us some respite and allowed us to say something other than “si” (yes) and “ho capito” (I understood).  We do help each other, of course, as we can ask each other for clarification, which is great.

We met up with G (who speaks a very little English) and his wife, C (who speaks almost none), again and who are very patient with us and incredibly good fun.

As midnight approached they brought out the champagne and spumanti (such as Ferrari, which I prefer to champagne).  And, at midnight, the bottles were opened and every one went round shaking hands, kissing and saying “Auguri” (best wishes, or something like that).  Outside most people let off at least one firework, often throwing them into the street below, and they are large bangers, as a general rule, so the sound is tremendous.

At about half past twelve, some people started leaving as they had other parties to go to.  We stayed until about 2 a.m. and then decided to walk back home (it was impossible to get a taxi).  On the way back we passed by the “sportello” (office), where I do my volunteer work and where they were also having a party.  There we met up with M (who was my translator when I did my Tour Guide thing of the Science Museum) and F (who was supposed to be in Liberia) so that was a bit of a shock!

We spent a little time with them.  And E (a Peruvian who has lived in Italy for many years) came out, very excited, to say auguri.

Then we got home about 3.30.  There were a lot of people about, but no fights, even when we walked through Piazza Duomo, although there were several people who were the worse for wear.  However, we were often wished Buon Anno or auguri on our way back (often followed by ragazzi (guys/lads)), to which we returned the good wishes.

It was a great evening and a good way to see the New Year in, only tempered by the fact that we still cannot hold a proper conversation (one where we really take part) in Italian.

A New Year’s resolution: perhaps to speak Italian by next New Year’s Eve?

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