I don't think this Pensianato thing is going to work!
One of the things my Italian tutor had me do was to put together some sentences that I could use when people asked me – “what are you doing in Sicily?” and “what do you do for a living?” and “what do you do for fun?”. I haven’t used many of them yet – but did try out one (or “part” of one!).
We’re in the Archaeological Museum in Napoli & we’ve toured most of it at this point, but come to this room at the end of the hall that has some official looking sign on it and some language about “children can’t enter” (at least that’s what I thought it said – but that seemed a bit strange since there were kids all over the place). As we walk through this room, I’m noticing phallic symbols, suggestive paintings, sculptures of questionable acts. Then there’s this little window and as I get down low to peer inside, I see a ton of stones that look like scrotums. Bingo – we’re in the section of the museum with all the recovered artifacts from Pompeii. . . and if you know anything about Pompeii, it’s that they had quite a bit of wild, sexual behavior going there and this room is tangible proof!!!
At the entrance, there are these two older men (probably in their 70s and more than likely docents). One of them is very friendly and comes over to talk to me when he sees me peering into the scrotum window and starts to talk to me in broken English. He wants to know if we’re Americans (duh!), if we’re enjoying Napoli (I mention the driving is a bit crazy; he laughs & motions “crazy” with his hands), then we get into this whole broken Italian-English-Napolian conversation about the fact that we’re going to Sicily, I’m looking for info on my great grandparents, and they’re from Sciacca (oh, Sciacca he says smiling with a few missing teeth). He keeps saying Se-chee-lee-ah (that’s how Italians pronounce Sicily[KR1] ) and seems very excited that I’m going. Then he wants to know where we’re from (loves the whole San Francisco thing) and starts telling me how pretty I am. Then . . the shit hits the fan!
So, the line that I’ve prepared for this question is “Sono un pensianato occupato . . viaggiare, cuchinare e divertirsi” . . which translates to “I’m a busy retiree . . traveling, cooking & having fun”! Since it didn’t really seem appropriate to answer more of the question than what I was asked, I simply said “we’re both pensianatos” and with that he turned around and marched off in disgust (and to tell his friend what I had said). We high tailed it out of that room fast - knowing we were no longer welcome.
That night at dinner we discuss this and Sherine decides that I need to find a new story!
On Thursday, we’re taking a “down day” and I’m going to work up a new gig for myself (new sentences and all). Sherine’s decided that I should be a travel writer and that I should tell everyone I’m working on a new blog for the American market (not too far from the truth). But after further thought, I think I’ll just work up some lines that I’m looking for Nonnas (grandmas) to help me get my Sicilian cooking immersion program off the ground. Something tells me that helping the Sicilian economy is going to get a lot more smiles & friendly welcomes than telling these seniors that this “young gal” is retired!!
P.S. – By the way, I’ve decided to abandon the fact that I’m from and/or live in Seattle too. Just saying “San Francisco, California” over here makes everyone smile & ask questions about California. I think these Italians have a whole lot of love for San Francisco and not much understanding of Seattle!
