Part One, Chapter One—Locale: Your Neighborhood, Your Neighbors

If you miss this, you’re missing something very Italian.

As you’ve no doubt heard, family is of the utmost importance to many Italians. In a similar fashion, so is locality: the local bar (café), the local salon, the local panetteria and macelleria, etc.

But the bar is the most important one.

I remember the night Max—my roommate—and I walked around the blocks near our apartment. We were curious to see what was around us. It was only our second or third night in Turin, we didn’t have Italian friends, we didn’t know our neighborhood, and we didn’t know how Turin worked.

Then we walked into a bar hesitantly. It was only a block away from our apartment. It was called Caffé 500, at Via Genova and Spezia. Through the front window, appetizers had been laid out. The man behind the counter was short, Italian-looking, and when I asked him for a red wine, he went through several options and then presented a green bottle without a label and raved about it.

I said, “Yes, that one.”

In subsequent nights at this bar, I’d meet a handful of friends. I got to know the two baristas: Donata and Rosa, brother and sister. I got to know Jenny, Rosa’s daughter. I helped Jenny with her English a little, and she helped me with my Italian a lot. I met Marco, who sold fruit at the nearby open market, who had a huge German shepherd named Fox, and I met Tony, who sold underwear at the same market. I met Christina, a middle-aged Portuguese woman who knew English and happily translated for me the things I did not know. I saw Christina a couple more times at Caffé 500, and then she invited me to dinner at her apartment. I’d help her daughter with her English, and she’d make sure I got a home-cooked meal. I ended up going to her apartment several times, and the her boyfriend, Walter, a native Torinese man, cooked true Italian dinners for me—multi-course meals with local wine, local bread, and tales of Turin.

I got a similar offer from the lady who dry-cleaned my shirts. (Her shop was a few doors down from Caffé 500, and Rosa recommended it.) One day she asked if I would tutor her daughter in English. So the following Tuesday, I went to her husband’s salon to tutor Frederica. And the Tuesday after that, after I finished tutoring Frederica, Frederica’s father gave me a haircut for free.

None of these people were my age—and I’m sure that wouldn’t appeal to many college students, but for those who want to dip as deep as possible into the Italian culture, getting to know your neighbors is the way to do it. Especially in Turin, they’ll find your being an American intriguing. And if you remain insistent on going to the same places every single time for whatever service (clothes, coffee, etc.), doors will open.