Fun Facts about Italy. Part: I don't know

Some of these may be repeats from previous entries, but that’s ok.

-Toilets are often referred to as the “WC”. I was confused at first about this until someone explained that apparently in school here they teach children mostly British English, they seem to think that the Brits call the toilet the “water closet.” I’ve never heard this in my life… I thought it was called the loo in Britain? Clarifications please? But anyways, the water closet… really?

-The water closets are usually pay-per-use in public places, such as the train stations (.60 in Vicenza, 1 euro in Verona and free in Schio). As a rule, I refuse to pay to use the bathroom, generally in restaurants and bars they’re free if you’re a customer, I’d rather pay the euro for a cappuccino and use the facilities than pay a euro and get nothing in return. Also, as I said, the Schio station is free when using their WC, but as a general rule the condition and cleanliness is reflected in the price paid to use them. I should also note that while in North America we have a certain idea of what a toilet looks like, the Italians have another vision, they’re basically a hole in the ground with porcelain surrounding it, us ladies are lucky and get to squat. I see how something could be seen as a cleaner, more hygienic way to use public washrooms, but most times I think I’d rather risk the germs and bacteria. See, I told you these would be fun facts!

-University students start their year off carrying their books in a carry-on suitcase. By midway through the first month they have upgraded to full on suitcases.

-Italian drivers are some of the most impatient people on the planet. They’re also horrible tailgaters. I suddenly understand my dad better.

-The Italians are pretty diligent recyclers. They have clearly marked containers everywhere for different materials (paper, plastic, aluminum, waste), the recycling programs in the house are pretty good as well, most people compost and separate everything. I assume this is to reduce the carbon footprint that their numerous vehicles are producing (I haven’t seen a hybrid here yet, but the smart car is fairly popular, as are bicycles). I also imagine that the separate bins in the cities are because unlike in Vancouver, they do not have canners to pick out the bottles and cans that can be returned for deposit.

-TV hosts here are awesome. Screw law school and becoming a lawyer, I want to be a TV host here. Here’s why: they get to host some of the weirdest variety shows ever; their job requires very little from them; they (well the chicks) get to wear nice clothes (and shoes!); and they generally have to do their own commercials- when they go to commercial they first show commercials for the sponsors of the shows, this usually means the host of the show is acting in horrible skits with the product. The most amusing are with the guy that hosts Millionaire, mostly because he pretty much hosts everything on TV, so he’s in a million of these skits and he’s a shameless spokes model… last week I saw him do a two minute commercial about car air fresheners. This job is by far one of the easiest jobs in the world, it’s cheesy and fun and they get paid a lot of money… add this as another goal here in Italy. (Honestly, words do not explain this job, this is a pretty insufficient description, it must be seen to understand, yet there is nothing comparable on North American TV)

-The Italian lotto is currently at 100+ million euro (that is unless someone won Thursday night that I don’t know about). Apparently if you do all the math and conversions it is the highest jackpot in the world… ever. I’m hoping to test my beginners luck on Saturday and play my first round of Italian lotto. Here’s the trick to the Italian lotto, you pick numbers between 1 and 99, making the number combinations total more than the amount of euro’s it’s worth and thereby making it next to impossible for someone to win and thus why the jackpot is so huge.

-Poochy the cat hates me. I hate her too, but I tried to extend the olive branch Thursday (that which would make tasty olive oil afterwards). So my aunt has this cat- actually it’s Jessica’s, but when she left Poochy stayed- I’m allergic to cats, so I stay away from her and whenever she comes into the garage (she’s not in the house at all) we give each other dirty looks and I curse her out. Thursday I went into the garage and saw her hanging out in her bed on top of the furnace, so I went over and thought I’d give her a little pet on the head and avoid contact with my face while doing so (to prevent the allergy flare-up you see). As I walked over, she did that cat-back arch thing where they try to show you that they don’t want you near them. Then I proceeded to pet her, she decided to rub up against her scratching pole as if to show me she didn’t need me. She then meowed and jumped off the furnace and towards her food. Obviously she did not need me to pet her. I went inside and washed my hands and vowed never to try to befriend her again. It was with this interaction my belief that all cats are bitches was solidified even further. (As for those wondering why I would try to befriend her in the first place, I believe in the saying “keep your friends close and your enemies even closer”)