1° Maggio, work, play and party

This past weekend, Italy celebrated the first of May, which is Italian labor day- and as with most long weekends, Milan emptied out as if mandatory.

I went to Rome, because, as in previous posts, I can’t get enough of that city. Despite having lived there for a collective 2 years, which should arguably be enough to satisfy my dream- I find myself on that same after work Eurostar from Milano Centrale to Roma Termini every few weeks (which reminds me, I should sign up for the Trenitalia frequent “flyer” miles …I keep forgetting). I couldn’t not go down- as my friends in Rome reminded me Wednesday night on Messenger prompting me to buy a ticket for first thing Thursday morning.

Anyway, I got to Rome just in time for the last million hours of the May 1st free concert at San Paolo which was fun although a bit crowded with an estimated 700,000 people crammed into a piazza. However, the event also had a big political aspect to it, every once and a while having speakers come in and talk about the right Italians have to a secure job and on-site mobbing (what in Insurance can be covered with an Employment Practices Liability policy, it should be said that the company I work for is the only one to offer said coverage in the Italian market right now).

Now, what bothers me about this event, is that, like most mass gatherings of college age students here, there was a strong communist presence involving lots of flag waving. This bothers me on a few levels (and I will explain why leaving my personal politics out of it, although my personal opinions are clearly right), which I will break down as follows:

Communists in general: I don’t think I’ve ever seen one communist who was, lets just say, 45 and worked in a bank. Why is it that people who are generally “against the man” are usually people who have never actually tried to work WITH the man? I’m sure its lovely to be a communist when you’re 28, still the Italian equivalent of a college sophomore and have never paid taxes. Sure you want everyone to be on equal footing- but these are the people who once they get into the real world- start complaining about how high their taxes are because we have to financially support a universal health system that incorporates even the Roma Gypsies who live in tents outside of Tiburtina station (fyi- there are about 80 camps in Rome alone).

Communists, I can assume, are not well versed in history: I have spoken to many people, who I would consider smart and well educated, here in Italy and they all agree on one overwhelming point. Italy, and Europe at large, owes an ENORMOUS debt of thanks to the United States of America (I write out for emphasis) for the Marshall Plan. For those of you scratching your heads, the Marshall plan was an economic recovery program in Post-World War II Europe that essentially helped everyone recoup beyond pre war levels while simultaneously preventing the spread of communism. (Who said that History major would never come in handy??) Essentially this is how Europe enjoys freedom today. Additionally, I can assume that none of these Italian communists have ever noticed that the sustainability of a communist government is dependent on repression of freedoms they claim to be seeking and that communist governments tend to fall after things like bloody revolutions (Think Monty Python: “Come and see the violence inherit in the system- Help, Help I’m being oppressed!).

Recent Election Results: Based on the recent election results, in which Berlusconi (a great ally to the US) won quite easily, it is fair to say a good part of those flag waving communists actually voted for the Right.

So, in summary, 19 year old Italian communists bother me.

Thank you.

Being abroad- even when it hurts

Now, here is a subject that I haven’t brought up yet- and as we’re nearing the end of the first part of our emotional journey together, perhaps its time.

Homesickness.

Homesickness is a natural reaction to living abroad. I don’t think that on all of this great big beautiful earth there is a person who loves Italy as much as I do, or was so motivated to come here. But sometimes its hard.

I was recently with my Mother in Switzerland, where we have a cousin who lives near Lugano. My cousin Elyse is someone who, even if she doesn’t know, I always remember admiring as a youngster. Elyse was that brave American who picked up and moved across the ocean at a time when people well, didn’t. Anyway, when I was young, I remember looking at Elyse like Ellis Island Immigrants would look at a banana for the first time. Oddly exotic but something that I knew I wanted to try. I looked up to her, and thought, if she could make the move- maybe I can too one day.
Anyway, we were in a beautiful piazza enjoying a caffè freddo and my Mom asked Elyse if “America just seemed like a distant childhood memory”. Good question- and the kind of question that my Mom was asking in part to gauge my reaction.

“Yes”, Elyse answered, strangely enough yes.

This brings me to my point (long winded as always but here is my point). When I moved across the ocean, I had every intention of staying here forever. I love the life I have created around work, friends, my apartment, my neighbourhood and my city- but fundamentally, I am an American. Do I want the first 23 years I spent in the US to be a footnote to my life- or, do I want this experience to be a chapter of my personal history?

Then there are the stupid things- I’ve had a craving for a Chiptole burrito with corn salsa and steak for about 3 months now, with no way to cure myself. I even tried to have said burrito integrated into my blogging contract here to no avail. I really miss Bravo reality TV- Top Chef and Project Runway, and while these are minor things that arguably mean nothing in the long run, sometimes the accumulation of small things can make you really miss the normalcy of life on Long Island.

Torino- cause hey, why not??

What a week and I apologize profusely to the MILLIONS of people who clearly wait for me to blog with breath that is baited (or better, Sorry Mom…). I was off in Torino on a last minute insurance trip- but since you probably don’t want to hear about Professional Liability for Accountants (and I, frankly, DO NOT want to write about it…) I will talk about Torino the city.

Torino is a beautiful city- and to my chagrin when I got there on Tuesday, not in my Rick Steve’s book. I, in my spare time, walked around and really got a feel for the city that was once the capital of Italy. The cafés there can easily rival Vienna and I had a KILLER pistachio pastry in a place along Via Roma, which is the main drag. Since the museums also close pretty late I also got to see the Palazzo Madama and the Royal Palace.

It was the business end of Milan but friendly. For example, being a practicing (when I’m not too tired or lazy) Catholic- I had really wanted to see the copy of the Shroud of Torino, which is arguably the most important relic in Catholicism (The teachings of Cathol- if you get this reference, you win my undying affection. Another point is that the actual shroud is only shown on occasion due to its condition and the obvious need and desire to preserve it). Either way, I randomly stumbled into the correct church and as luck would have it mentioned to the right little old lady that I had wanted to see it but because it was late did not want to disturb anyone. She proceeded to take me on a mini historical tour of the church, culminating in a viewing of the copy of the shroud with full historical and religious explanation.



Anyway, it was an awesome city in the original sense of the word (meaning it gives you awe), with a regal feel befitting the seat of the Savoy dynasty. Go see it! And in the meantime check the youtube highlights!

Putting the first 3 letters in Assicurazione (Insurance in Italian)

Working in an International company in New York, I very often forgot just how international we were. Our policies would rarely clash with other policies written elsewhere in the world- and- even when we would extend coverage to be granted on a “world-wide” basis, this coverage was only REALLY valid for suits brought in the US anyway (this is standard market wording for any company based on US Insurance regulations). Then there is the fact that US insurance regulations are very strict and vary from state to state, making the US Insurance system rather beastly and difficult for even people who work in Insurance outside the fifty states to understand.

Here, the perspective is entirely different, also because, a company based in Italy may very well have subsidiaries in Germany, Belgium and Luxembourg. Today, for example, I spent a good deal of time, talking to a colleague in Belgium, because Company X in Luxembourg who is owned fully by Company Y in Italy had a policy with us in Belgium through another broker- but Company Y decided to buy a Master policy in Italy this year- so effectively we have 2 policies out covering the same company. Nich gut. So, we call our colleagues in Belgium to say- Ummm- you need to cancel this policy NOW! Only, the broker for Company X wants their commission, even though there is no policy.

What drama! Only made more interesting by the fact that we were working between French, Flemish, English and Italian.

Quote Quote Quote Softball

Santo cielo what a week ragazzi! I had another crazy week at work that I’ll summarize as follows:

Monday: Check email and be boggled at the fact that I received a few sent on a Sunday (the pope is crying somewhere), quote, quote, quote, Lunch, quote, quote, quote, call to Paris (our European Headquarter) for approval to…quote, quote.

Tuesday: Run all over Milan trying to find at ATM that wasn’t out of service, almost miss my train to Padova, broker visit, broker visit, Lunch, broker visit, broker visit, Train to Milan- nap.

Wednesday: Cry when I see 87 unread messages (none of them being fun ones), of which about 75% had those completely annoying red exclamation points with the word “URGENTE” in the subject line, quote, quote, quote, lunch, quote, quote, call it a day because I was clearly about to die.

Thursday: see Monday

Friday: after an emotionally exhausting week of, ummm, quoting, I decided to take a nice easy morning (we only work til 12:30 on Fridays. Got to love these National contracts!), so I read msnbc.com for a while, checked my email and called it a day early, so I could go to softball practice. It almost felt like high school with a salary!

Anyway, this weekend we had a Springtime Tournament hosted by my team BSC Milano, and I must say, I rocked some socks. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve lost a good bit of weight on my diet of Mozzarella di Bufala, espresso and gelato or maybe its just because I’m American and genetics came through for me- but I have been pitching really well.

That being said, I have never seen a circus like the tournament this past weekend. While I’ve seen some legitimately good players (many coming from Cuba and the Dominican Republic), most of the teams are fairly new to the game. I have NEVER, EVER seen so many people ready to throw down and rumble though! It was like West Side Story meets a League of Their Own.

This for me all culminated in the 2nd of 3 games I pitched, where one of their players bunted in a way that was technically incorrect (incorrect, pronounced: stu-pid) and turned into the ball. Now, he turned into the pitch, which hit the bat before bouncing up and striking the player.

The sound of the pitch striking the bat was like the shot heard round the world, but his coach insisted he had been hit by the pitch (difference being, I threw a strike whereas the coach wanted him to take a base). When the umpire called a strike, the coach flipped out, claiming I hit him on purpose. First, it is incredibly insulting to suggest that I’m that nasty, dirty (and mind reading- I clearly should have foretold that he would turn into the pitch after I had released it) player. Second, I was taken back when not three seconds after a gang war broke out on the field because of what he said, he says “You do that again, and I’m coming out on the field”. WHAT!!! In the course of three seconds it went from being a fun game to World War III. Of course, a guy like this wouldn’t settle for anything but “putting me in my place” and so came up to bat in the next inning with an aggression in his eyes that I don’t think I’ve ever seen in another human being. I soundly sent him back to the dug out in four pitches, fairly humiliated to be taken down so swiftly, and by an American Girl nonetheless. Then to round out his day of unsportsmanlike conduct, he refused to attend the (as my Mom calls it) “handshake of peace” at the end of the game. What a winner.

So loyal readers of experience.com…come down to Milan this weekend- I need emotional support at Sunday’s game!

Brokers visits...in Venice!

Sometimes I find myself having a moment of “man is your job awesome.” Despite the fact that we have stress coming out of our ears (think smoke when a cartoon character eats something spicy), yesterday I had a legitimately fantastic day doing broker calls in the Padova area. In the course of one day, I visited brokers in Treviso, Mestre (a stones throw from Venice), and Padova before heading back to Milan.
We talked about insurance, re-enforcing what I have noticed in the past year working in the Italian Insurance market. That is to say that the business itself doesn’t change. Brokers want better premiums, higher commissions, better coverage terms and quicker policy issuance. What did change?
I had a delicious lunch of pasta and then tuna, a lovely glass of Prosecco, 5 different coffee breaks and the fact that the car we travelled in was a quarter of the size of my old Ford Explorer in New York.

The previous post was a response to the following question:
What advice would you offer for those who want to eventually work abroad, specifically in Italy ?- Evan, Bloomington, IL

Hi Evan,
The real lengthy reply is below, but for those who don’t want to read the doctoral thesis/”War and Peace”/Complete history of Italy abridged below, here is some advice I would offer:

1- Know how you can stay in Italy and not have to hide from immigration. It is not quite as simple as walking up to your nearest consulate (for you Evan, that’s Chicago) and declaring that you want to live in Italy (MAGARI!)

2- Do some market research into the sector that you want to work in. Like in the states, a lot of the interview process involves selling yourself- but a company will definitely want to know why they should hire you over an Italian (heres a hint: I speak Native English goes over VERY well).

3- Do some research on the area of Italy you would like to move to: Milan is the capital of finance and fashion, Rome provides great opportunities for government work, banking and tourism, Florence is a good city to teach English or (again) tourism, and Puglia is beautiful if you want to be a farmer.

4- Learn Italian- maybe this doesn’t need to be said, but I was in Rome two weeks ago and I ran into this girl from Minnesota who spoke such terrible Italian, I was tempted to punch her. I give credit to people who try, but her Italian was so terrible and she was so cocky about how great it was, that about 90% of the piazza was on board with the whole “me kicking her thing.”

5- Be Persistent. The old saying “where theres a will, theres a way” really holds true during a lot of the administrative work that goes into moving across an ocean. Stay focused, and don’t be afraid to call the consulate every five minutes if you have to. I was on hold with the Consulate in NY for most of 2006…

I love the questions though! Keep them coming!

Working your way across "the pond"

Working in Italy has definitely been a wonderful experience for me over the past year, but as I spent this past weekend in Basilicata talking to my cousins I came to realize how fortunate I have been to have found a secure position with a secure contract. There are many challenges facing young people here, and even those most qualified often find themselves bouncing from job to job seeking a better contract or accepting internships well into their 30s.

Here are a few points that I have found invaluable as to the working environment in Italy.

1- Ability to work:

The first hurdle as an American is actually being allowed to work in Italy. Americans with valid passports can stay in Italy for up to 90 days, but as tourists. I have heard of people who wish to stay longer and cross into Switzerland every 3 months to keep their eligibility valid, but this is neither legal nor a valid way to stay. Alternatively, you can try to find a company to sponsor you for a visa/permesso di soggiorno (permission to stay). This is a costly and time consuming process. I recently spoke with a friend who works in HR for a multinational company based in Italy, who confirmed that working between the US and Italian government makes it difficult (not impossible but difficult) to hire Americans because of national quotas, and so is usually something companies reserve for highly qualified workers or management.

I was able to move here because I hold dual citizenship, and therefore have an Italian passport as well as an American one. This is a complicated process, but put simply, I did research into my family background and found that at the time of my grandmother’s birth, her father was still an Italian citizen (my Grandmother was born in NY but raised in Rome). Because my Grandmother never realized she was born legally Italian, she never denounced her “birthright” and so it was passed to my mother and then to me. After collecting birth, death, marriage and naturalization certificates from every family member directly connecting me to Italy and waiting 2 years, I received my passport from the Italian Consulate General in New York. This process is called “Riconoscimento della Cittadinanza” (Re-recognizing of Citizenship) and although it takes quite a while, is the best way to go for those eligible, as legally I am Italian in all effects (meaning, I can work here, vote, buy property, am entitled to health care, and can collect a pension).

2- Finding the right job for you

As an American, or either way, a native English speaker, most “ex-pats” that I have met here work either as tour guides or as English teachers. To become a licensed tour guide in Italy, which most native English speakers are not, requires passing a lengthy state administered examination. I would also point out that most people who speak English have certification in Teaching English as a Second Language. When I first moved to Rome, seeing as I have a degree in Italian Literature and history, I began looking at jobs as a Tour Guide. The problem with this is that the work is fairly seasonable (meaning GREAT in the summer- slow in the winter), but you make more money than you do teaching English (and I think its more interesting- but thats just my opinion).

I came over here with the intent of continuing on the career path I started in New York however, meaning Insurance. To this end, it helps to do some market research, which I started to do before coming over. Know who the biggest players are, and try to get an idea on where you may fit in.

The first thing I noticed is that the Insurers are all in Milan, whereas the Brokers are scattered all over Italy. When I started working in Rome, it was for an American brokerage company, which I targeted specifically (the big 3 world wide- Marsh, Willis and Aon), because in an American company being a native English speaker would present a particular advantage both to the company looking to acquire, and to me as a selling point. After working in Rome for 6 months, I switched back to Underwriting, but staying with an American company, where again, being a native English speaker had advantages.

3- Contracts

In Italy, the type of contract that you hold at work has a big effect on almost every aspect of life. It is not uncommon to see people with a Laurea (Italian degree, American degrees can be validated through local autorities) doing Internships. Internships have a fixed time period (6 months usually) and if they are paid, it is usually a rather small amount (400-600 a month).

Then there are the 2 most common contracts which are: “Contratto a tempo determinato” and “contratto a tempo indeterminato.” You want to shoot for the latter.

A Contratto a tempo determinato, or determined time, is a fixed period contract, usually 6 months to a year, after which the company can either hire you again or let you go with no obligations to you. Most companies prefer to hire under these contracts because they are elastic, and less costly (in terms of taxes they pay on their workers).

Then there is the “mother of all contracts” which is the Contratto a tempo indeterminato (Contract of undetermined time- this contract is largely the reason I moved to Milan). This contract is that infamous, “you can never be fired unless you commit some grave mistake or do something illegal” contract. There is a 3 month “prova”, which is a window of leeway where you or the company can still back out- an approval period more or less- after which you are integrally part of the company. With this type of contract you can also get easily approved for bank loans and are entitled to a plethora of benefits. It is a secure contract in an insecure market, but is fairly hard to come by.

What is the one bit of advice I would give? Be patient and persistent.

Cleaning day sognando di Capri

Ah Sunday, the day of pulizie (cleaning the house), which unfortunately was very necessary this week as the Turkish girl has apparently never learned to use detergents- leaving the house nothing less than GROSS since last Sunday. But now that I’m in my clean kitchen with a lovely bottle of Brunello breathing for lunch, I can write and think clearly.
This was a decisively stressful week as a broker with whom I bound a Directors and Officers Insurance policy in December decided to call up and argue about terms of coverage (but- isn’t it the middle of March? Yes, oh faithful readers of Experience.com, it is the middle of March). Anyway, I had, in the quote letter, binder (confirmation of coverage before policy issuance for those not in insurance) made very clear that companies with negative net worth or in fallimento (financial failure) were excluded from coverage. This is both smart from an Underwriting point of view and fairly standard at the price we closed the deal at. Despite my abundance of disclosure, the broker decided to call up demanding that we take the exclusion out of the policy after 3 months, citing the fact that the same client just bought an 80,000 euro pollution policy with us as well. The whole request was absurd- and I informed him that we will be happy to review everything at the policy renewal in December and that if the 2 companies in question were financially fine now, the exclusion isn’t active anyway. Either way, he pursued the issue for 2 days taking up about half my day with nonsense.
Anyway, I’ve spent the large part of the day so far reflecting, as per usual. I decided this morning to watch a great old movie with Clark Gable and Sofia Loren called “It Started In Naples”, which is about an American man who goes to Naples to settle his brother’s estate, only to find that his brother has an 8 year old son. Of course, he falls in love with the child’s Aunt (Sofia Loren) and the island of Capri (a place that puts my island- Long Island- to shame).
Outside of it being a fabulous movie, it made me think about the few trips I’ve taken there. The first time, I was 17 and going into my senior year of high school. Capri is one of those magical places that creeps into your soul when you’re not paying attention, and makes everyone want to be Italian- figurati (great phrase- the Italian version of New York’s Fuggetaboutit) those of us who are Italian-American. I was ready to drop out of school and become a grape picker!
Anyway, one morning, I woke up early to go running and wound up taking a sunrise walk with my mother to go see the Faraglioni (rock fragments the jet out of the sea, very well known on Capri). It was calm, peaceful, and beautiful combined with the sun that rose over the sea illuminating first the water and then the whole island. Some Italians in the area stopped and asked us for directions- seeing my mother and assuming that she too was Italian. Then surprised to find her decisively un-Italian looking daughter spoke back while she stood there and smiled. Although it was only a few short moments, it is one of my favorite moments in life and one of the most special memories I think I will ever have with my mother.
A few years later I went with my grandmother and Aunts to the island one day. We wound up on the opposite side near the Marina Piccola (Small marina) and found the most amazing place on earth to eat lunch- right on the water. Again- nothing short of a magical experience, especially watching my Grandmother who was raised in Rome, rediscover the beauty of a place she left about 60 years earlier.
Finally, about two weeks after my excursion with Grandma, my best friend Sammy came over to visit and of course, we wound up on Capri. The last night we were on the island, we decided to take it easy and have a coffee in the Piazza. Sam had a rough night the evening before, when, after a delicious meal and a few hours in a terrible club, some hooligans in the hostel we were staying in, decided to bust into our “dorm” in the middle of the night and dump a plastic bag of freezing water on her. This, by the way, is probably not the best way to be woken up at 3 in the morning.
So, back to the Piazza, we sat down and were having a nice little aperitif when I noticed that there was some activity on a stage set up in the middle of the square. We had unknowingly stumbled upon the town’s patron saint celebration- which meant dancing in tradition garb, singing Neapolitan folk tunes and apparently dragging a few American girls on stage to help with the music on instruments that I had never seen before, and never seen since. Not to put too fine a point on it- but again, magical!
So that’s what I’ve been thinking about on cleaning day!

When in Rome...

In the spirit of Spring Break (I remember spring break- I went back home to work...enjoy Cancun college kids!), I’m going to use this time to enlighten you all on the greatest place on earth and where I spent my weekend.

I went home, home to Rome. What a magnificent city that, in my opinion, fully embodies all that it means to be Italian. Rome is a fantastic city because the ancient world mingles with the modern world in a way that is so natural you can hardly tell one from the other.

I spent Friday night at an Aperativo (Italian happy hour), where you get a nice drink but then eat ridiculously good food for 2 hours. Saturday, I hung out with friends and our night finished up at Piazza Trilussa. Rome, which is a city filled with students and tourists has an “American zone”- called Campo dei Fiori- which during the day is a flower market, but at night when the flowers are gone opens up to an awesome bar scene with 9 or 10 places that all spill out into the Piazza highlighted by a statue of G. Bruno, who was burned for heresy- a heresy we call “Science.”

Italians usually hang out across the river at Piazza Trilussa in Trastevere. Essentially, Piazza Trilussa has a set of wide set stairs where you can sit and talk and sing and do pretty much anything- but in the open air. Saturday night made me appreciate the phrase “Dolce far niente”, or “How sweet to do nothing.”

Going to Rome also made me think about the decisions we make in life though. I was happier in Rome than I had been- maybe ever. And yet, I moved to Milan. It was the balance between my career and fun. Milan, especially if you work in financial services (so- insurance- yeah that’s a financial service), is the capital of work. If you want a serious career, Milan is the place to do so. Adult decisions are tough! But, as I frequently remind myself- at least in Milan I’m only 4 and a half hours from Rome!

The right time to move abroad

I read an article a few weeks ago in the New York Times about colleges who give high school seniors the option of doing a gap year abroad(http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/19/education/19educ.html). I’m torn about how I feel about though. Here is the rationale behind that:

Bad Idea:

Leaving home the first time (which a lot of people do when they go to college- I certainly was one of them) can be traumatizing. You can make up for that by being in a University setting where you still study and being surrounded by people who are in the same proverbial boat. It helps you bond- and it takes the sting off of the difficulty of being away from home.

Being in a place where they don’t speak the language can make a lot of the normal problems in life worse- because ultimately our ability to communicate is what bonds us to the people who surround our lives. That means that if you are in a European city where most people speak a decent amount of English- wonderful- but if you’re doing service projects in the mountains of Bolivia, well…you better speak Spanish!
What it comes down to, is that I think most people at 18 are too immature to handle rent and amenities, going out responsibly and being able to (to put it simply) “not die.” I have a roommate here who is 18. She’s Turkish and miserable. She doesn’t speak Italian or English and so it is impossible to communicate with her. Frankly, communicating with her is necessary as in the past week, she has left the gas on the stove while we were at work, left the door open all night, shut the water off in the bathroom while playing with knobs and needs to be taken care of the few times we go out socially as an apartment. So, basically, we had to smell with the potential of being blown up and murdered. These are little (or not so little) things that most people know not to do with age- but on the safety of a college campus there is that little bit of room for error.

The US Dollar is also terrible right now (1.50 USD to 1.00 Euro), but this will need some time to bounce back.

Good idea:
Studying abroad is one of the most amazing experiences a person can have. You meet fascinating people from all walks of life and all parts of the world. You learn about other countries and cultures while learning tons about yourself and your own inner potential. And its just plain fun!

On a totally unrelated note, I’ve picked up one of my old habits here- I started playing on one of Milan’s softball teams this week. Its fun! I have always played on a competitive level- but this team is a mix of old and young, experienced and inexperienced. There are also two older men on the team who were playing in rolled up jeans- which made me think of a Brooklyn pick-up game circa 1954. Or maybe The Sandlot! SMALLS! The GREAT BAMBINO! THE SULTAN OF SWAT! THE COLLOSUS OF CLOUT!

That to me, is finding the best of American culture in my city!
This is also a good time to check out the sports blog (link to the right), for a good chuckle and some interesting insight into that world!

U.S.A- a-okay

In a completely unrelated to anything this blog is supposed to represent post...how do I make this dance "all the rage" in Milan???
That would be, in a word, awesome.

Arrivederci- when saying Later Gator seems inappropriate

This was a killer week, in my world of insurance and pasta. Busy at work and outside as well, all topped off by the fact that I threw a dinner party for about 15 people in a kitchen that comfortably seats five.

My friends Marco and Carla left this week to start a job in Luxembourg for the Banca Generali, which is the finance and investing end of the huge Italian Insurance conglomerate Generali (for those of you who have been to Rome, you’ve seen Generali’s administrative offices in Piazza Venezia- and if you’ve visited Italy recently, perhaps even their TV advertisements with a lion, the company symbol, protecting a man from the dangers of the Jungle. I think it drives home the idea of personal risk management and protection- so points to them for a memorable ad campaign!)

Anyway, watching them say goodbye to Milan, where they have been for years now (Carla has been here for 3 and Marco 7), brought me way back to January 2007 when I was saying goodbye to so many friends and family myself. Fundamentally, as human beings (or essere umani for them), it is difficult to leave something so certain and familiar for something unknown. My first thought upon seeing the tearful hugs, best wishes for whatever the future may hold, and thoughtful glances that seemed to say “come back home soon”, was to my own friends at college and at home when I left. It was hard to say goodbye to Sam and Simone- to Martha, Sarah and Chris- when they had always been there to make me laugh or chortle. Then it dawned on me that had I never said goodbye, I would have never met any of the wonderful fascinating people I have met over the past year. That is what this age- this stage in life is about. Growth.

Now back to the crazy Italians who are moving to Luxembourg. When faced with a challenge like this one, especially because they are being sent over as part of a team to open an entire office, you have to jump! It isn’t only the tremendous expense a company must undertake to move you there, train you in new areas and teach you French- but the idea that you are being singled out as a rising star. Luxembourg for Carla and Marco isn’t an exile, but rather an opportunity to learn about a new market, and to really make a name for themselves within the company. An opportunity for…Growth.

I have learned such a tremendous amount since being here, all of which I reflected on today when I probably (read: definitely) should have been working. In New York, I had always thought about the money we were making- big premium dollars, big name Insureds (clients) and big policy limits- but we had a fairly limited geographic area in which we worked. In Italy, working in the exact same sector, I have learned not only how to Underwrite other “Financial Lines” products like Directors and Officers Insurance, Employment Practices Liability and Crime- but I have also worked on Architects and Engineer’s Professional Insurance and put together programs on a territory that spans an entire country and so the needs and risks vary greatly.

Even when you take the jump though- you can always be comforted by the fact that wherever you go on this earth (except for maybe small African villages, I have to check on that) there will always be…karaoke.

Filling in the gaps

Having a degree in Italian Literature and Language allows me to do many things here. I can talk about Dante’s Divine Comedy at length, conjugate random verbs into strange tenses and discuss the development of the Italian Language from regional dialects into one unified language over the course of the past 100 years. Surprisingly however, these topics usually don’t come up on a Saturday night out with the friends.

How often, over the course of an evening among friends in your age group, do you cite random quotes from a Will Ferrell movie? Or maybe you prefer a classic scene from Saved by the Bell (my personal favorite being Jesse Spano’s caffeine pill addiction. She was so excited, so excited- so…so…scared). As much as I wish these “classics” held the same significance for my Italian friends as they do for me, I have had to catch up on some of their own childhood highlights.

Here are some little tidbits that you can all throw into a conversation to help you fit in- and win some points with the locals at the same time.

Topo Gigio- Topo is a little Italian mouse who has been prelevant on Italian television for the past fifty years. He sings songs and always wants a kiss goodnight before leaving a scene. He is also well traveled, as he was a reoccurring guest on the Ed Sullivan Show (so, Topo Gigio and The Beatles got their American break in the same place). He was also known to pop up from time to time on the record player at my Grandma’s house, as we are, after all, Italian Americans.


Raffaella Carrà- Raffaella is the Italian answer to Cindi Lauper and Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. She was popular in the late 70’s and her songs remain a staple of any Karaoke night or party with friends. This is one of her highlights, Com’è bello fa l’amore da Trieste in giù (Tanti Auguri). Remember it is appropriate after she sings “Tanti Auguri,” to yell “Graaa” and throw your head back in a “Fainting Southern Belle” type move.


Adriano Celentano- ahhh, il GRANDE Celentano. Adriano Celentano is one of the first, and biggest, Italian pop stars. He enjoys the type of fame that Billy Joel finds on my native Long Island. Here is a clip (oddly from a concert in Germany) of his song Il Ragazzo di Via Gluk which is a song about Urbanization. I like to think of it as the Italian “Down-easter Alexa.”



Amici- Amici is one of the many shows on Television hosted by a woman named Maria De Filippi. It is almost an Italian “American Idol”, except that there are competitive dancers as well as singers. The “nasty judge” is also one of Adriano Celentano’s nieces, who used to be a dancer in her own right. The show is highlighted by a drag queen named Platinette, an American dancing teacher named Garrison. One of the competition’s challenges is an abbreviated musical, which I have included a clip of. I warn you that it is a little long- but trust me, it is worth it!

3 day return to the English Language

I don’t think I will ever forget that day in the second week of January. It had been raining for what felt like the 30th day in a row, which in a city like Milan, created a gloomy and gray atmosphere that I carried into my office with me every morning. Then there was that day- the GLORIOUS day that we all received an email from Human Resources by level. In Italy, specifically in my company, pre-managerial employees are broken down into levels from one to six (with one being the lowest). I looked at Level 5 and then quickly consulted my last paycheck for my roll-over days from last year.

I have 35 vacation days. Yikes! Plus, contractually we are only required to stay until 12:30 on Friday afternoons. I was flabbergasted- and justifiably so, when you consider that most people in the US get two weeks off a year. I wonder what would happen if I walked into work and asked for ALL of June and July off!

Anyway, last weekend I decided to use some of that vacation time the way I see many of my colleagues do- a Long Weekend. Having recently discovered the European gemstone Ryan Air (www.ryanair.com), I flew to London where a friend of mine from George Washington U is getting a Masters Degree. With a five euro flight (you read that correctly- I paid FIVE euro plus taxes, making a trip to England cheaper than a train to Rome), I really couldn’t have gone wrong.

London is a fabulous and fascinating city, full of history, culture and just plain fun. I’ve always thought of London as a wonderful “gateway” to Europe for Americans. It’s a great starting place for European travel, not just because they speak English, but because the American culture is not just transmitted but understood on a level that it is not in the rest of Europe. Plus, I can make references to “Anchorman” in a conversation and it doesn’t seem crazy.

It was also an interesting weekend, in that, while spending time with my friend, I had the chance to meet a lot of what we refer to here as the “Ex-pat community.” Friday night, we celebrated my friend’s birthday in a group composed of 3 Americans, 2 Canadians, 2 English and an Australian- a veritable cornucopia of the world’s English speaking community! The entire experience was made even more interesting while talking to these other ex-patriots. We were all living thousands of miles from our home, but we each had a unique reason for being where we were. We also spoke about the difficultly in being American overseas, where our lives and our plans can be overshadowed by problems like, Working Visas, heavy or double taxes (as April 15th approaches). Even more disturbing is the thought that living in such vibrant and wonderful places could end in a heartbeat if you’re unable to renew a Student Visa after graduation or if the government doesn’t allow you to establish residency. I began to appreciate my dual citizenship all the more- even though I spent two years submitting documents to the Italian consulate in New York proving my Italian roots, before getting my passport.

Either way, having talked to these different people all weekend, all from different walks of life, but with a great passion for what they were doing and what brought them overseas, I began to think of all the opportunities that exist for those willing to put in a little research. Most college students know about Fulbright scholarships- but a lot of college students probably don’t know that there are Universities in the states that have graduate student Exchange programs as well. NYU for example, has accords with a number of Universities in Europe and Asia- including Bocconi right here in Milan. My friend Laura is at the London School of Economics studying Communications and Politics through a program with the University of Southern California. I came here with dual citizenship, but through organizations like the National Italian American Foundation (www.niaf.org) there are practically limitless opportunities for Research Grants- and even a questionnaire to help pre-qualify people for dual citizenship with the Republic of Italy!

What does this leave us with? For me, the answer is that there is always a way to make that BIG move for those who have the passion and the patience to find an answer.

My new appreciation for the Metric System

Being in a foreign country can at times present its challenges to anybody- but being an American I find sometimes puts you at a particular disadvantage. But this isn’t a statement that I’m pulling out of nowhere- I have had another cultural run in that once again reminds me that I was not born here.

In Italy, it is required by law for employed people to be examined periodically for conditions that could cause them injury in the future. Now, you may think that working as an Insurance underwriter disqualifies me for office industry- but my friend, you would be sadly mistaken. After all, our business is risk analysis- and so who better than us to know that danger potentially lurks behind every corner.

The first part of my medical journey through Milan started 2 weeks ago when I went with my collegue Maurizio to the hospital for our physical check up. This was comprised of two parts- a general check up and an eye exam. It was actually an interesting process, as the doctor took us aside and reviewed not only personal factors (do you smoke? Check no. Do you play sport? Check yes. Do you get tired at work? Who doesn’t!), but also details pertaining to our job space. He asked me how far I sat from the computer monitor, if there was air conditioning, if there was a glare or blinds to close on our windows. He checked for Scoliosis and blood pressure which are the hazards of our lives glued to swivel chairs.

These may seem like random details to ask- and a terrible reason for someone to take 3 hours out of a work day- but its their way of ensuring if we are able to perform our job, and if anything were to go wrong in the future- if it is the Company’s fault or not.

Of course, I caused problems from the second I walked in the door. The conversation went as follows:
Doctor X: Okay- how tall are you?
Me: Well- in feet I’m 5 foot 8. In meters- ummmm- less than 2
Doctor: Umm, yes, I’d say about 1.7. How much do you weigh?
Me: Well, in POUNDS I’m around …(Sorry Experience- I’m not putting that in writing!)

Anyway, the poor doctor couldn’t eyeball weight the way he could height (except he was kind enough to point out that I was probably heavy). Nor was his room equipped with a scale and at that, neither was his neighbor. We spent about 20 minutes running around the first floor of the hospital looking for a scale- all because I never really thought to weigh myself in pounds.

These are the little pieces of living here- the pieces that are so very important but don’t cross your path every day- but pieces that are essential. It made me realize how much vital information I don’t know, not out of ignorance, but because I’ve never needed to. To emphasize that point- 911 in Italy won’t get you help in an emergency. I did learn some valuable lessons from my trip to the doctor though- and a new appreciation for the ratio of pounds to kilos when I walked out of the hospital feeling half my size!

Ciao

Hello loyal experience readers! Welcome to my blog. I guess the only way to start this correctly would be to take a trip back in time to January of 2007. I was living in New York and working as a Professional Liability Underwriter for the biggest Insurance Company in the world. I enjoyed my job and despite the fact that I hated my commute, I was having a good time living back on Long Island after 4 years away at college.

That being said, there was something eating away slowly at my soul. I had always wanted to move to Italy. It wasn't something that I could cure with a nice two week vacation either- I felt like I had to be there, live there, buy vegetables in a market that wasn't "super," and drink wine in a big, open piazza filled with history. I decided that 2 years after college, it was time to make just such a move- before I was so tied in with obligations to work and my life in New York, that I would never get out.

So on February 1st of 2007, I moved to Rome. I must say that it was significantly easier to effectuate a transatlantic move because I had dual citizenship and therefore am legally Italian- but I was also moving to a place with a tight job market and relatively high unemployment. Either way, within 2 months I had found a job, working as an Aviation Insurance Broker for a big American company. It was an interesting job and a good continuation of what I had started in New York, but I had also learned that if you want a serious job with room for upward mobility- it was better to be in Milan. Through some contacts I had made while still in New York, I learned that my old company was looking for Financial Lines Underwriters (Professional Liability, Directors and Officers Insurance, Crime/Fidelity and Employment Practices Liability) in Milan.

So here I am! February 2008- a full year later, and I’m living and working in Milan. Even though it is hard to be so far away from home, I learn new things every day both on the job and outside the office. So ask me questions! Its not the easiest thing to move overseas- there was a lot of prep work before hand and constant challenges, but it has certainly proved the age old saying to be true- Nothing worth getting comes easily…