What is it really like as an American living in another culture on another continent? Is it la dolce vita every day? People often ask that question so I thought I would share what our experience has been upon completing year one of our new Italian life.

What we expected vs. what we experienced
We had read countless articles and blogs describing experiences detailing frigid houses with inadequate heating, hideous lines at the post office, service providers over-promising and under-delivering and yet, what Svein and I have experienced, personally, has been quite the opposite. So far we have replaced the motor of our refrigerator, repaired the hot water heater, put in an alarm system, negotiated a leak from above, and it's all gone incredibly smoothly! Every time we make a repair we are pleasantly surprised that the Italians actually show up on time and ready to get the job done at a reasonable price!
There are a lot of things to do at the post office: paying bills, applying for a residency application, returning Amazon packages and they might even sell stamps (not sure). Take a number from the Italian-only tricky machine where you attempt to determine which of the choices most closely resembles the type of service you require. Sometimes we get lucky and the impatient person behind us in line does it for us!
What we learned
We quickly adapted to the culture norms of our new home like touching the produce in the market is frowned upon; this is not self-service. That no matter how long the line is at the dry cleaners, there will be an exchange of a personal nature, maybe even with the addition of showing off a photo or two. Patience! Italian clothing sizes run smaller than other Euorpean countries. A size 54 jacket in France is 56 in Italy. Even this savvy shopper didn't know that!
Residency and paperwork
Going to the immigration police station, La Questura, was my most dreaded task, but a task an American must do in order to stay more than 90 days every ROLLING 180 days (yes, it recalculates daily and January 1 is not a re-set button). After going to the central post office and turning in what looks like the War and Peace of paperwork, you are handed a very unofficial piece of paper (which is worth more than gold) with your appointment time and date with the Questura 5 or 6 months later depending on the backlog. Apparently, the time of day for your appointment is just for show. You go on your allotted day and show up a minimum of 30 minutes before it opens and get in the already long queue with fellow immigrants. I have done this twice now. It's bad, yes, but more organized than I had feared. The first time the mountain of paperwork I produced was insuffecient evidence for changing my last name even though this is commonplace in the Americas and Europe (except Italy), or my (more than adquate) proof of income. More mounds paperwork during appointment 2, and now I am anxiously awaiting what I hope will be my final visit to receive my resident permission to stay card. Fingers crossed this card will be good for more than one year! Both times I was in and out in time for lunch. My Norwegian-passport holding husband was expempt from this process, but came along for the experience.

Connections
Italians are inherently warm and welcoming so we actually did expect, after time, to be recognized (by face) by our favorite market vendors, caffès and restaurants, BUT what we have experienced is so much more! Vendors know us by name and each purchase comes with a recipe or a mini-lesson about the product's origin and why it is superior to all others. All this socializing while doing errands does take more time, but It's in Italian and doubles as a language lesson- more fun than Babbel!
We also had not anticipated making such close friendships. We have owned our apartment only 2 years and have been invited to intimate celebrations, such as, weddings, milestone celebrations, holidays and even a family baptism! Our social calendar is as full in Italy as it is back in the USA.
WEDDINGS & BAPTISMS

CELEBRATING CHRISTMAS
The connections and the new friends we have made is the best part of our Italian life. Knowing Italy is knowing its people.
Fabulous!!