Tag: Italy

By Guest Author Susan Rosapepe

I am an expat in my own country, and I want to go home. 

I’m sitting inside a beautiful snow globe and the events of 2020 are swirling around me and they are all I can see.  But when it all settles, I look around, and everything is different…. and not in a good way. 

You see, I have lived where we, as a country, are heading.  You won’t like it.  No one will. 

I WAS an expat when I lived outside the United States.  It is still fresh in my mind.    

I loved Italy so much! Who doesn’t?  I have dual citizenship with Italy and America. I moved there as a corporate transferee.  I loved the people, the food, the geography, the wine, the charm!  But over time, I grew sad.  I missed the United States.  I was learning that here in Italy, life was very difficult.  Nothing worked.  The word “efficient” could never be used to describe daily life. 

To try to accomplish just one thing a day became the goal.  Government agency phones were never answered, lines became more lines, employees were unhelpful and disgruntled.  You would stand in line for hours at the post office, because hours were short, and employees were scarce.  Most rules were so convoluted the Italians who tried to help me couldn’t explain them.  Don’t send me mail or packages.  They would never arrive.  

If you needed something for your home, it often became a hunt.  Products were scarce and shelves were oftentimes empty. Once in a while you hit gold, but that’s about what it cost to get that item—prices were often inflated while salaries were deflated. 

The very generous benefit system for the unemployed youth as well as highly restrictive employment regulations had placed unthinkable strains on family life.  I know this from firsthand experience.  I have family in Italy. 

The system was broken.  

I loved to travel when I lived in foreign countries.   The train system was highly touted and the interstate was fast and fierce.  But the words “sciopero” (strike) stunned us way too often, and left us stranded and scratching our head “but why again, this time??”  If not the trains, it would be the buses, or the taxis, or the airport workers, and one time it was the toll takers on the highway.   

Customer service is not a phrase used in this country.  In fact, they laugh at us crazy Americans to insinuate that we might have the upper hand as a customer.  NO, this is not America.  You may NOT get your money back, return an item or change it out for another size.  There is no time to haggle with a customer.  The mid-day break, (siesta) is minutes away. 

The system was broken. 

In Mexico, we learned very quickly to be afraid of the police.  We were warned by our Mexican friends to be wary – they were not there to help us.  We were robbed three times by the police.  

One time we were in a traffic jam and they walked up to our car window and tapped on it.  Then they held a gun to my husband’s head and said to hand over all our money and whatever was worth anything.  I had my 2- and 3-year-old babies in the car.   We would be in Mexico for 4 years.   

To have a telephone, your name went on a list that was five years away.  But I soon learned, again with advice from my Mexican friends, in a broken system, there are broken ways to do things.  My friends trolled the neighborhoods and found an installer at another home. They had a “conversation” and the next day he was at our home.  He seemed quite pleased to do the job. 

A gaggle of teen to 20-year-old boys with assault rifles guarded the entrance to our neighborhood.  You see, WE were safe, because the drug lords living in our neighborhood were safe. 

The system was broken. 

It is frightening to me that a very vocal and angry segment of Americans want to defund and demoralize our police forces and drive them to the ways of a third world country. 

Yes, I loved living abroad.   But we yearned for trips back to the US.  Government agencies worked.  You could call and talk to a person.  You could get guidance on what your next steps would be.  

Stores were open almost around the clock.  Products were in great supply.  There was actually price competition for the lowest price on things, and shopping was fun!  People could come and go in stores and know that customer service was there to support them.  I knew if I were in danger, our police would be there in a heartbeat to help our family. 

I knew that we Americans were free thinkers and would never become a country of sheep that were led by fear and chaos — which was so evident in other countries I lived and visited. Today, I live in the US.   

And just today, I needed a few groceries and paper goods. I stood in line for 45 minutes to get into a grocery store.  The shelves were bare of what I was looking for and have been for days.  No word on when they will have product. 

I needed to get a check from my bank.  After standing in line to get in the foyer, there were no employees, only a remote chat window.  I was told I need an appointment and would have to come back because the appointment had to happen online. 

I wanted a haircut.  The first available appointment is a month away, mostly due to fear and management of optics that need to be instituted. 

Remember how I said that to get one thing done a day in Italy was a goal?  That very familiar feeling for me is back.   

Our system is breaking. 

We are heading down a very slippery slope.  It’s insidious and will get woven into our country’s fabric before you even realize it.  People who don’t appreciate what we have, need to move to another country and try that for a while.   

And maybe this expat experience doesn’t resonate with you.   

Think about the last time you traveled outside the US.   How happy were you when you returned?

If people don’t stand up for our country and Constitution and secure the “Blessings of our Liberty”, it won’t be here for us when we want to return. 

Our system is breaking, along with my heart. 

You, the reader, don’t know my gender, my race, my religion or my sexual orientation. Believe it or not, contrary to today’s woke messages, that doesn’t really matter.  The only thing you need to know is….. I am an American.   

Susan Rosapepe is a co-founder and former Program Director of a city-wide non-profit organization that mentors and recognizes young people in the journalistic and performing arts.  She is the daughter of a United States Foreign Service Officer, World War II veteran, and sister of a Vietnam War veteran.