It’s always gratifying to have someone say something nice about your child and travelling and eventually moving here, we experience it often. Com’è bello,
isn’t he cute, they exclaim. We have a handsome boy, but he’s not really cuter than other kids, the Italians just recognise and remark on the inherent beauty of children, and always find something nice to say.
Adults,even strangers, regularly have impromptu conversations with our son. Delightful, animated, in depth conversations on any topic he mentions, from the snow that was at our house but not at theirs and what all that meant, to the whimsical powers of vampires. Even teenage boys, not always an appreciative audience for a five year old, will playfully laugh and joke with him.
We have taken him with us to restaurants here since he was very small. From the time he started walking (at 10 months) he has been considered “highly motoric,” the current euphemism for hyperactive, and keeping him in his chair would have required a straight jacket, not an option. In just about all of the Italian restaurants we’ve been he’s cordially allowed to roam freely and the personnel will strike up a conversation, take him on a tour, offer him something from the dessert case or, there’s always a chicco a treat, a slice of foccacia or piece of candy, on hand. We’ve been able to enjoy our meals knowing he’s momentarily in caring hands when his more than occasional need to wander strikes.
Dealing with doctors and nurses has been a dream come true. In almost all cases, our experience has been that their warm friendly bedside manner puts him completely at ease. To his delight they even occasionally enumerate all the ants and elephants in his ears.
We decided to move to Italy from Switzerland to give our italo-american son some roots. We made our decision to move when we did, in large part based on the knowledge that children can start nursery school at three years old here, which was advantageous for two reasons.
First, he would learn the language in the immersion method, very fast and effective at this age. Secondly, we would have the time we needed to supervise the very involved remodelling of an old farmhouse, knowing he was safe in a pleasant learning environment. So off he went on the bus with all the other children, not always happily, but there was always a warm monitor to smile and entreat him: Cocco bello, vieni in braccia da me and take him on her lap for the few minutes it might require him to adjust. In this genial, compassionate culture he adjusted to his school and his teachers, and made friends in no time.
Italians connect naturally with children and it makes travelling and living here that much easier and more pleasant, not to mention most gratifying.
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