Hmph!

The Neapolitans are back. They've recaptured the city.

I had almost forgotten what real Neapolitan driving was like. We'd had the roads to ourselves for the past month, but it wasn't going to last forever: yesterday on the way to pick Alan up from work, I encountered a traffic jam so serious there was--gasp!--a cop to direct us. In one day, I went from running free as a graceful gazelle in the desert to baahing with the million other goats in the herd.

Why get agitated about this traffic in particular, you ask? Well, the base is literally next door to the airport. There was only one possible explanation for this sudden, grand reopening of the Bumper Cars at Naples Amusement Park. The Neapolitans must have chosen this day to fly back en masse from their exotic, month-long beach vacations.

As I exited base with hubby in tow, I explained why I had been a little late. A big sigh accompagnied his response: "just when I was starting to like Italy..."

To be fair, we do like Italy. We reminded ourselves that lawless driving is a thing of the south. And as I've said ad nauseam, we are more than happy to put up with Naples' more unpleasant aspects for a couple of years. For now, the good really does outweigh the bad.

But when I run into someone in the side streets of our neighborhood, and I throw myself out there with a smile and a buongiorno, and that person just walks past with a hmph! ... well, that's when I have trouble liking Italy.

You have to understand: that hmph is pretty common around here. I was lucky enough to get that this morning, as many times I get nothing but a big, long stare. Alternatively, I'll get the buongiorno back, but with a hurried haughtiness in place of a smile (you see, I was doubly blessed this morning).

I guess I need to step back and realize this is not the birthplace of southern hospitality. I probably take those Italians by surprise when I dare to say "hi" in the street! Yes--sometimes, when I come across a very polite or kindhearted person, I am gratified. But those reciprocated greetings say it all: the polite/kindhearted buongiorno-sayers often act like they just stumbled across a misplaced object. The smile they flash me is one of grateful serendipity.

Like I said, though, the good outweighs the bad. Yesterday there was the wave of returning travelers; today, like clockwork, there was the year's first crisp fall air. I'm looking forward to saying "arrivederci!" to mosquito bites and beads of sweat rolling down my back. And I'd be totally content if they didn't say it back.