October 30, 2000

Dear Ternani #9

"An American in Terni"

At Santa Maria hospital you observe a man at the reception desk who is trying to locate the room of Gubbiotti, Rosina, a patient that he wants to visit. No trace of her can be found in the patient directory yet the man insists that Gubbiotti, Rosina is indeed registered at the hospital. Minutes tick by as the receptionist scrolls through the patient lists in the hospital's computer database. He then makes several phone calls to various sections of the hospital. No, Gubbiotti, Rosina is not a patient at Santa Maria hospital. Just as he is about to give up his search the man remembers that in Italy, anagrafically speaking, a woman goes by her father's surname not her husband's (contrary to American custom.) Oh. The man makes a quick phone call to Rosina's daughter: "Ciao, Nadia. What is Rosina's last name? Aquilanti?? Oh...thanks." Embarrassed to have used up the receptionist's time in a futile search the man whispers: "Uh, could you check if there is an Aquilanti, Rosina registered?". Five seconds later Aquilanti, Rosina is located. The man apologizes to the receptionist: "Gee, sorry for your time - it's just that in America we do it differently."

One morning you walk into a bar on Via Narni and notice a man asking the barista to make him three cappuccinos. Not one cappuccino at a time but all three at the same time so that the man can line them up on the counter and drink them one after the other with no pause in between. The barista seems confused by this request so the man explains that the sum total caffeine content of three cappuccinos equals that of one large coffee purchased in Manhattan. He continues to explain that his brain will not function if he does not drink three cappuccinos and drink them quickly. The barista makes the three cappuccinos, the man drinks them in the space of a minute and a half and, feeling human now, he goes on his way.

You are driving on Via Giuseppe Di Vittorio and you see a man waiting to cross the street at the zebra lines near the intersection with Via Liutprando. The man's eyes have what Americans call "the look of a deer caught in the headlights." This means that the man is like a deer trying to cross a road at night when suddenly a car approaches and the deer is frozen with fear and has no idea of how to get across the road without getting run over. And in Italy there are so many different vehicles that can run you over: a car, a truck, a bus, a motorcycle, a scooter, a bicycle, or maybe one of those APE things (we don't have such a vehicle in the U.S.) The man decides to try crossing at the traffic signal but once again he is confused. The same signal shows two green arrows and one red and he is not quite sure what they mean: "Stop - go - GO!!"? Is it like Formula One? Wait for all green then accelerate like Barichello? Adding to the man's embarrassment are the old ladies, each carrying two white plastic bags bulging with groceries. These woman seem to be guided by some kind of internal speed detector or by a great religous faith because they are fearless when they cross the street. They just "go for it". (I bet that these women would also try bungee jumping.) Meanwhile the man has been standing in place for five minutes and is now convinced that everyone is watching him and laughing at him. Finally, just like the deer, he darts across the road at exactly the wrong moment and narrowly misses being clipped by a cyclist. He decides that the next time he will get an old lady to help him cross.

These are some of the ways that you can spot an American in Terni.