Americans abroad · Emilia Romagna · European travel · ex-pat life · ex-pat reality · football · Insider Tips · Italy · Parma Italy · soccer · Travel · world cup

The Most Popular Game In The World

Football match in Italy. Parma vs. Inter Milan
Italian football match. Parma vs. Inter Milan

Italian Passion

Italians are a passionate bunch in general, and their passion for life can be triggered on a dime. Amazingly though, they also seem to make up with one another right away. I have seen them yelling and screaming at each other, faces reddened, spittle flying, arms waving and then shake hands and walk away five minutes later. Given this passionate culture, I was eager to attend a football match because one thing that Italians are very passionate about is football, the most popular game in the world.  You know, what we Americans call soccer.

Football, The Most Popular Game In The World

We decided to support our local football team and we went to watch Parma play against Inter Milan. I was a tad nervous because my husband had warned me that when Parma scores the crowd goes a little crazy – their passions are unfurled with yelling, screaming, shoving, running up and down the stands. Joe was actually knocked over at the last game he went to. He was not hurt, but that knowledge made me anxious as neither my daughter, nor I, do well in crowds. I was also anxious because Inter Milan was ranked fifth and Parma was ranked sixth, so tensions were indeed high. Ultimately. my desire to experience Italy to its fullest won out over my fear. We donned our blue and yellow and headed out to the stadium.

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Upon arriving, I noticed that there is no alcohol allowed at an Italian soccer game. Now, bear in mind that Italy is a place where one can find a full bar just about everywhere – the park, the movie theater, the shopping mall, the gym. But not at a football stadium. I have to say, that I support this practice.  I think it is a wise idea to prohibit alcohol at sporting events where passion and loyalties are on overdrive. One of my dear friends in California is a sweet, gentle guy unless you encounter him at the UCLA/USC football game. Then, he is a rabid dog. Give him some beer at the UCLA/USC game and he is a rabid bear. It may be a good thing for America to follow the Italian example in this case.

Something else that I noticed was that even stone cold sober, Italian fans are INTENSE about, and loyal to, their football team.  One of our Italian friends welcomed his second daughter into the world on the morning of the game that we attended, but he still made it to the match that afternoon!

Warning – Foul Language Ahead

The intense loyalty that they feel for their team is most often manifested by hurling insults at the other team. Through the entire game, Parma fans were chanting “Inter, Inter, vaffanculo, vaffanculo!” which literally translates as “Inter, Inter, up your a**,” but is used more as Americans use f^%k you.  Imagine half of a stadium chanting “f^%k you!”  Here were some of the antics I was hoping to experience.

Italians are a poetic people. They value the poetry of their art, food, fashion and language.  Given this love of language, a simple vaffanculo would not suffice and the fans occasionally intermixed the vaffanculo’s  with the chanting of an Inter Milan player’s name and then “pezzo di merda.”  As in, for example, “Zanetti piece of shit.”  They also broke into song once or twice singing along to the tune of Guantanamera but replacing the Guantanamera with “pezzo di merda” and then a player’s name so that the tune went something like this – “ pezzo di merda. Zanetti, pezzo di merda. ♪♪ peeeezzzzzo di merdaaa, ♫ Zanetti, pezzo di merda.”  Again, imagine a huge crowd all swearing together in song. Fascinating and entertaining stuff, I tell you.

The most perplexing expression of loyalty for me, however,  was the yelling of “cinesi vai via!”  or “non ci sono cinesi in Italia!”   This translates as “Chinese go away” and “There are no Chinese in Italy.” As factually incorrect, and as racially insensitive, as these comments were, the funny thing to me is that they were yelling these insults at Inter Milan player Yuto Nagatomo . . . who is Japanese.  I swear I saw Nagatomo looking around for the mysterious Chinese guy once or twice.

The final thing that I noticed about Italian football games is that the previously blogged about colpo d’aria – the dreaded hit of air – that Italians feel must be avoided at all times and at all costs for fear of ending up in the hospital –  seems to have a waiver for football matches.

Football match in Italy. Parma vs. Inter MilanFootball match in Italy. Parma vs. Inter Milan

During our game, for example, the weather was rainy and cold and yet scores of fans were without umbrellas or rain gear.  And quite a few were without shirts. In the rain! There they were, standing in the freezing rain, getting hit by air for 2+ hours and not a one seemed to be concerned that they were going to end up in the hospital.  Once again, questions arise in my American mind about the colpo d’aria malady.

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Alas, for Parma fans, despite their best insults and choral talent, Inter Milan won.  Parma didn’t score a single goal so I didn’t get to see the post score craze of happy fans that I craved.  And despite the racist epithets, Nagatomo dominated the field.  But, you know what they say . . . karma is a Japanese Inter Milan player.

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Lessons Along The Road Of Life

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Photo credit: Niche Travel Design

When traveling it is always good to be alert, to be aware of your surroundings, know where your money, your phone and passport are at all times. I admit it, I am on alert by nature, but am on extra alert when traveling to a new place. And truth be told, I have been known to let my imagination get the best of me and assume the worst if I am in unfamiliar territory. You all remember the garbage truck in Parma, Italy, right?  Where I was convinced that we would be murdered by an Italian garbage man.

On our trip to Croatia last year we decided to take a day trip to Mostar in Bosnia Herzegovina. We had read that while the main roads are safe, one must not venture off the main roads as there are still active landmines in the countryside left over from the Balkan war in the 90’s.

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Photo credit: Niche Travel Design

On our way back, at the end of a long, very hot day, we were cruising along a local road on the way to the main highway. Out of the blue we hear honking. The car behind us is furiously honking and waving at us. A quick scan of the dashboard – nothing looks amiss. Tires and alignment feel ok, but still the couple behind us will not stop honking and waving. We pull over. They pull up next to us in a beat up, older model of an unknown car. The couple themselves appear to be human versions of the car, a bit rusty and rough around the edges.

Through what can only be described as a mixture of sign language and charades we understand that we are not to go any farther down the existing road. Our GPS, whom we have named Pippa in honor of her lovely posh English accent, disagrees. Pippa clearly wants us to continue on the road that we are on. My husband suggests that perhaps the local couple knows something that we don’t. Maybe the road ahead is closed? Maybe it is not safe? I point out that Pippa has never let us down. She always recalculates when there is a closed road – as we found out on the way to Mostar.

The local couple is insistent that we follow them.  We continue to exchange unsure and concerned looks.  The local couple wins. My husband flips a u-turn. We follow them down a small back road for about 10 minutes. We have no idea where we are going. Pippa is insisting that we, “Make a u-turn if possible. Make a u-turn if possible”  I am getting progressively nervous. Who are these people? Where are they taking us? What is their motivation for having us follow them? Are we going to hit a landmine on this country road? Are we going to be ambushed and car jacked in the Balkan countryside? The Swedish plates have given us away as tourists/targets after all.

The local couple is about 200 meters in front of us. I ask Joe how he is feeling about following perfect strangers in a foreign land that still has active landmines to God knows where. He is a bit nervous about the whole encounter too. He pulls over to the side of the road.

The local couple’s car stops ahead of us in the middle of the road and just waits. There is no one else around. The only sound was the rustling of a soft breeze, the chirping of insects and the clicking of the GPS dial as Joe re-calibrates Pippa. Setting the GPS takes a long time under normal circumstances and feels even longer when one is convinced that your whole family is about to be taken out.  Then, ominously, the local car begins to reverse toward us.

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Photo credit: Pexel

They back up alongside us once again. They look confused. Why did we stop? They once again indicate that we should follow them. At this point we don’t know which way to go. Should we trust the locals or our nerves? Are they helping us or leading us to our demise? Since we have no idea where are are, we anxiously follow them again.

After about 5 more minutes of driving the local couple slows down and points us to the right. They point us down another road. Another road that we soon discover takes us directly to the main highway and relief.

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Photo credit: Niche Travel Design

The locals turn their car around. They honk, smile, wave and head back the way we just came. They were not thieves, carjackers, or murderers. They were simply really lovely, nice people who went 30 minutes round trip out of their way to help some dumb tourists heading down the wrong road in the Balkan countryside.

To that local couple, thank you. I am grateful to you for restoring my belief that most people in this world are good and kind. I promise to pay it forward and help strangers in need along this journey of life. I will do this in your honor and I will think of you every time.

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Photo credit: Pexel