I Do Something For You, But... Do I Expect You to Do Something for Me?
A conversation with Italians in New York shed light on a common, yet implicit Italian behavior.
Every other week, I attend an Italian meetup here in NYC, which is one of the things that brings me the most joy and structure in this chaotic city.
Before you jump to conclusions: in my 8+ years of living in multiple foreign countries, I never felt the need to hang out only with Italians (unlike many of my compatriots, dare I say😈).
I was certainly not the one who would hang out in giant, loud groups singing Italian songs on the street at 2 am during my Erasmus (a European exchange University program), and the only time I ended-up in a similar situation, I cringed pretty badly for myself and for the only foreigner present in the group, who would inevitably not understand a word amidst a sea of people from the same country.
While over time I definitely smoothed out my rough edges, I was stoked when I noticed that at the Italian event, “proper” Italians are indeed a minority.
Most participants are Americans who learned Italian in Italy through exchanges they did a long time ago and never forgot the language. They are the most impressive to me as most of them learned Italian before I was even born!
A few of them are also Italians (from Italy) who have been living in the States for decades. They first came here for work, found great opportunities, and decided to stay.
And then there are what I label as “my people”: the grammar freaks (most of whom have Italian relatives) who are learning Italian at an Italian school here in NYC and ask one grammar-related question for almost every sentence they say. As a grammar lover (both of my native and foreign languages), I’m not so much bothered by them—instead, I feed their vicious cycle by giving long explanations and occasionally taking advantage to ask them something about English grammar. To my disappointment, though, while they are learning incredibly difficult tenses in Italian, e.g., trapassato remoto (a tense that the average Italian wouldn’t even be able to point out), they know very little about their own native language, English!
Back at the meetup…
…I enjoy it so much because it’s the perfect place to discuss cultures, cultural clashes, and affinities. In summary, it’s the ideal arena to analyze and dissect our backgrounds.
And while some conversations simply consist of chit-chatting in Italian, others delve deep into uncomfortable topics or behaviors.
That’s exactly what happened last time.
I found myself discussing “My Brilliant Friend” (L’Amica Geniale), the Italian- and Neapolitan-language coming-of-age series of four novels which became incredibly popular both in Italy and the US, with two more Italians, and my partner, who is American and is honing his Italian skills.
While dissecting the aspects that impressed us the most about the novels, Marco*, an Italian guy in his 40s, highlighted something that particularly struck him was the ability of the novel to portray an aspect of Italian culture that is often unknown to Americans, and which we all agreed could be summarized in the sentence:
“I do something for you, but… I expect you do something for me.”
He recalled the example of someone originally from Naples but living in his town in Tuscany who once ran into a trouble, and asked a lawyer, a fellow Neapolitan, to travel up to the Northern region to help him out, as opposed to search for one in the place where he was currently living.
Without spoiling anything about the plot, we all agreed that yes, this social system based on the exchange of goods or services, also called clientelism, is definitely embedded in the Italian society, with a stronger emphasis in the South than in the North, present at its apex in anything related to the mafia, but certainly common everywhere and in almost every relationship.
At that point, I mentioned my upbringing as an example: my parents’ emphasis on the concept of "make sure you are not in debt with anybody!"
‘Someone offers you a drink? Offer them a drink back the next time.’
‘Someone pays for your dinner? Invite them over for dinner.’
What's most interesting, and what I've observed as a struggle, for example, in my boyfriend over the years as he familiarizes himself with the Italian way of doing things, is that all of this is implicit. If you express these expectations overtly, you might receive negative reactions from people, i.e., 'Me expecting something from you? No, not at all.'
Italians certainly don’t want to appear stingy or score-keeping.
But that's what it is:
beneath a layer of generosity (which, don’t get me wrong, is warm and bestowing), Italians don't want to be taken advantage of, and in moments of need, they will expect you to reciprocate the favor in equal measure.
And that's where Lucas, an Italian-American with relatives in Sicily, recounts the time he went to Sicily visiting his family and was treated like a king, being excellently fed and toured by car by his cousin. With one caveat: when they announced they would visit NYC, he felt shivers running down his spine.
"They expect me to reciprocate with equal gestures, but they don't realize that our living conditions in New York are vastly different from a small town in Sicily: I can't drive you by car to downtown Manhattan as easily as in Sicily, or welcome you into my tiny one-bedroom apartment in Queens, or provide multiple lunches and dinners in the most expensive city in the world!"
How do you explain the difference of standards and expectations to someone who comes from a tiny town in Sicily?
Finally, Martina, an expert in the history of art…
…who has been living in NYC since her PhD studies, explained that this transactional aspect dates back to Ancient Rome! (which also means, we are not going to get rid of it anytime soon!)
The Romans were the first to realize that weaving webs with people could bring a lot of advantages. In Wikipedia terms:
Patronage (clientela) was the distinctive relationship in ancient Roman society between the patronus ("patron") and their cliens ("client"). The relationship was hierarchical, but obligations were mutual. The patron was the protector, sponsor, and benefactor of the client. Although typically the client was of inferior social class, a patron and client might even hold the same social rank, but the former would possess greater wealth, power, or prestige that enabled him to help or do favors for the client.
There would be so much else to say, for example, whether Americans put a similar yet completely different emphasis on relationships, and my experiences with this in the US, but to avoid this becoming an entire essay, I’ll save it for another time.
For now, I’ll leave you with this sketch from the Italian-American stand-up comedian Sebastian Maniscalco, who perfectly grasped this Italian behavior and describes it hilariously here:
That’s all from me this week.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend and we’ll talk soon!
*All the names in this email have been changed for privacy reasons.
And they don’t care who you are or where you work.
I don’t like this! 😂 if I treat my Italian friends I don’t want them to feel like they need to reciprocate. I haven’t really noticed this but I never want to be the one who hasn’t reciprocated so maybe I should pay closer attention 😂