Just a bit about the calling behavior of the Italian

In this country, there are many things that fascinate me. Why everyone has a dog, but you really rarely find a dog poop on the street. Why Italians drink so little while they produce the most insane wines in the world and why they lie on a beach of pebbles basking in the sun for a whole month without complaining. van keien liggen te wentelen in de zon.

But today I want to talk a bit about their calling behavior. From small field research, I know that as soon as you cross a border, the calling code changes. In New York, everyone is walking around in their own bubble, talking on the phone, earbuds in, and gesticulating wildly in a loud tone. As if there is someone walking next to them with whom they are conversing, but that person is hanging in their ear. In France, they call as if you are discussing a serious crime. At least, that’s how it came across to me when I called my French colleagues. A barely audible ‘allo’ was followed by a conversation so soft, conducted with a hand over the receiver. Just like in Italy, where everything goes in the superlative (except for the drinking), calling here is also just a bit different.

First of all, the ringtone, which often dates back to the nineties. You know, the Nokia sound. Tudduhduhduh, tudduhduhduh, tudduhduhduh, remember? And it’s set to max volume. Then it gets answered, but not before the speaker is pressed. After that, the phone is held up to the mouth as if it were a walkie-talkie while we can all enjoy the spectacle on the other side. There is no excuse or awkward looks that this is an urgent matter. No way, this is theater. The conversation goes on and on. Meanwhile, a dirty child’s mouth is wiped, a coffee is ordered, a cigarette is lit, and a wave is given to the neighbor across the street. It could also just be that in the meantime, the phone of the table companion rings. They also answer, press the speaker button, hold the mobile in the right position, right in front of the mouth, and chatter away happily.

Once I taught our children to sit under the table in restaurants after the second course (with four more courses to come) with my phone so they wouldn’t disturb anyone else. I’m now cautiously letting that principle go. Not only because they almost no longer fit under the table with the three of them, but also because I now dare to assume that Italians don’t take offense at a chattering mobile phone more or less. Another point on the long list of reasons why I love this country so much.

I think I’ll stay a little longer.