The Forgotten Art of Kindness

Before I moved to Italy, I would have said that the United States was a country full of kind people. Certainly, in some areas, there's more hospitality (the Deep South) than in others (NYC).

But living in Italy, specifically Calabria, has made me realize that Americans have room for improvement.

Redefining "Bending Over Backwards"

I like to give this analogy about asking for directions.

If you ask for directions in the U.S., you'll likely be given helpful instructions on how to arrive at a place.

But in Italy...

When I landed in Italy for my move, I had to go to the customs agency to sign for my kitties. There were several buildings, and I wasn't sure where to go. I stopped a passing man and asked him how to get to the office I needed.

First, he gave me a complicated list of sinistra, svolta alla porta, poi destra...but then said, "Andiamo.°

He went out of his way to walk me up several flights of stairs, and then told the person I needed to see that I was there.

Wow!

This is just one example. Another time, my friend Dora and I were lost in the mountains. We asked a delivery driver how to get back to the main street, and he told us to follow him down. Once we found the street, he gave a friendly honk and took off.

People really do go out of their way to help, and it's for no other reason than that's the decent thing to do.

Unparalleled Generosity

I've probably already written about how everyone in Calabria shares the bounty of their crops. I'm to the point where I'll call Mamma to see what veggies and fruits friends and neighbors have brought before I go grocery shopping.

I've struck up a friendship with a gentleman named Pietro who has the most fantastic handlebar mustache. We started talking about how I love picking wild herbs, and before I knew it, he began bringing a steady stream of tasty herbs picked fresh from the mountains.

Before I was shopping for two, I'd go to the farmer's market and ask for a single tomato. The farmer would scratch his head, confused as to why anyone would need just one solitary pomodoro. He'd give a shrug and say, take it, signora. For you.

There's Always Time to Savor Friendship

Rare is the day that I walk through Davoli without being offered a caffè or birra. The offer might come from one of the many older men who sit at the bar most of the day, who have become used to this pazza americana that passes by. Or it might come from one of the women I've struck up a friendship with. No matter if she's doing laundry or watering plants, she always has time to offer coffee and cookies and spend a few minutes chatting.

When did we get so busy in our lives that we stopped having time for the niceties of community and kindness? When did we start becoming so consumed by our own problems that we stopped looking outward to see what we could offer others?

Living here has definitely helped me amp up my own kindness level. I'm learning to have coffee and beer on hand and offer them to anyone who passes by. Soon, I hope to uplevel and offer freshly-baked sweets!