This week I have been mostly eating spinach. We went to see Nonna B and she gave us a huge bag from Nonno B’s allotment. She was very concerned that I wouldn’t be able to wash it, but I think I managed to persuade her I was capable...or indeed that possibly Himself was capable, but that might have been going too far for the bounds of credibility. A young man! Washing spinach! Whatever next?! Anyway the result has been that A has been very anxious to do the washing up and tomato chopping this week on account of wanting to be on the right side of feminist history.
In other news, this week I have also been doing a lot of stressing about my in-school conversation class in collaboration with an Italian teacher. It is a very noisy class and discipline is not my responsibility so I told my boss I was having problems.
My boss tried to explain it to me like this:
“It’s that you both have conflicting systems. You come from a system where there are rules and consequences. In Italy however we just scream at the children.”
The word system not exactly what I would choose there.
Need to do some deep breathing or yoga or something! Or perhaps I need to find my inner Super Nanny, which coincidently is called Tata SOS in Italian and features a blonde stunner who rides a quad bike with obligatory slow-mo for when she takes her helmet off and shakes her golden mane. Other than that though it’s pretty similar! And no, she doesn’t scream at the children even if that is the Italian way.
I have also been forced to watch Italian football coverage which is more entertaining than perhaps I should let on. The normal channels can’t show a lot of the big games so to get round this they show you a commentator watching the game on a screen that you can’t see with generic football clips shown on the screen behind him. Sometimes, if they have enough money they send a couple of commentators and fans to the game and you can watch them watch the game. The humour comes in because they are laughably unprofessional; insanely biased for whichever team they are supporting they spend ages celebrating extravagantly if their team scores. And if they are losing? Then they sit there and say nothing and sulk.
Actually if there’s one good thing about Italian telly being really rubbish then it’s that I hardly watch it. I have so much more free time. That’s why I’m writing a blog.