Avoiding breasts

Spring has been unseasonably hot here in Trieste, which means the Triestini have been hitting the beach in droves. A few weeks ago, we strolled around Barcola, the beach front in Trieste. There's no sand--just a brick boardwalk, then boulders, then the Adriatic. There is a tiny area (la spiagetta) with a little pebble beach instead of boulders where parents with small children can go. There are also a few areas with circular, concrete platforms with ladders that descend into the sea. But if you're sunbathing anywhere else along the waterfront, you've got to scramble over the boulders, say a short prayer, then throw yourself into the sea. It's quite invigorating. (??)

Anyway, as we were walking along Barcola and the kids were clambering up the slide at one of the playgrounds, I thought: These would make some nice photos for my blog. So I took my camera and got to work.

But there was a problem. Breasts.

Every time I lifted my camera to take a shot, someone's breasts were inevitably in the picture. As you may know, many Italians sunbathe topless. Not just sunbathe, actually. People hang out (pun intended) playing cards, sipping cappuccini in the outdoor bars along the beach, swimming and chatting. Half naked.

So my dilemma was how to capture the rugged beauty of Barcola without having an X-rated post. I first looked to my left. Ahhh, the marina. I aim, then lift my camera up, over the breasts, over people's heads, a bit more....aaaannnnnd click: There it is, the marina against the hills of Trieste, sans breasts. Then comes the castle...you can't take photos of Barcola without including the Castello Miramare that juts out into the sea. So again I aim, leaving the topless women out of the photo, replacing them with LOTS of sky. Click.

The playground where we were is under a canopy of giant pine trees, which is where I was standing when this sailboat glided by. After a few tries, here's a shot where some bathers are actually still wearing their tops. Maybe they'd just arrived, who knows.

Here you can also see part of the brick walk, and the tips of a few boulders (one is right behind that guy's knee..the guy who's probably telling the lady beside him that she should take off her top now.)

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Trieste doesn't get many American tourists--they all come as far as Venice and then go home. But when they do come, they're fairly easy to spot on the beach, especially the men. They're the ones with the I-can't-believe-my-good-fortune look on their faces.

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When I first came to Trieste, I'll admit it was weird to talk to a topless woman on the beach. No matter what we talked about--the weather, politics or where to find the best deals on new sandals--I couldn't help but repeat to myself: This woman isn't wearing a top. This woman isn't wearing a top. This woman isn't wearing a top... And then I'd miss the name of the store with the great deal on sandals. And of course, you have to spend the whole conversation avoiding looking down. Lots of eye contact.

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The other day my daughter received a bathing suit for her birthday, and it was a two-piece. The gift-giver said that she knew we'd be in the U.S. this summer, and she'd heard that little girls in America wear tops with their bathing suits. A few other mothers overheard her and their eyes grew wide. "Really?" they asked. "Why would a little girl wear a top?"

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Hmmm. I was stumped. Why, indeed?

Italian quiz shows...trivia and (what else?) breasts

Italians love their quiz shows just as much as Americans do. There's an Italian version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, and several other trivia quiz shows that boast high viewer ratings.

But there's one big difference between Italian and American quiz shows: breasts.

I've blogged about this topic before (breasts and their place in Italian culture), but quiz shows are the perfect example to illustrate this.

Take a look at this photo:

The guy on the right is the host of a popular quiz show called L'Eredità (Inheritance). And the ladies on the left? Think Vanna White after a few stiff drinks. The show is on prime time--right smack dab in the middle of family hour tv. Here's how it goes:

First, the guests all introduce themselves. Fairly standard.

Now the show begins...trivia questions, close-ups of contestants' family members biting their fingernails, brilliant contestants wowing the audience with their trivia prowess, nervous contestants flubbing obvious questions (which are never obvious to me, mind you, since I'm not Italian), etc. Again, nothing new here.

Then, just when the Italian public can't take the seriousness any longer, cue the raunchy music and out comes the group of scantily-clad women shown in the picture above, who writhe and wiggle to the music for about 30 seconds. As the last note of the song hangs in the air, they strike a suggestive pose and the audience breaks into enthusiastic applause.

Then the dancing ladies slink off-stage, the host comes back, and the game recommences.

All game shows have this half-time show, dancing-girl element, not just this one. And in the photo above, I think it's significant that the women are pictured first, and the host (who is on camera for all but 30 seconds of the show) is pictured last.

Answer (for 200 Euro): The two things that make the Italian quiz-show world go 'round.

Question: Um, Alex, what are breasts?

Ding! Ding! Ding! Thaaaaaaaat's correct!

:-)

An Abundance of Breasts*

* with a nod to John Green, author of the award-winning young adult novel An Abundance of Katherines

Although the Carnevale (car-neh-VAH-leh) season won't officially begin until later this week, Italians are already gearing up with decorations and a few costume parties for kids.

Can you guess where this photo was taken? No, not outside a cabaret. No, not at a night club. I took this photo outside the bar right down the street from my daughters' school. (Bars here aren't like bars in the U.S.--they're more like cafès where the beverage of choice is always coffee.)

You may notice that the writing in the center is in French--strange, since the Italians aren't France's biggest fans.

And you may notice the writing on either side of the women, announcing the upcoming Carnevale festivities in Italian on the left and in Slovenian on the right (this village is about 3 miles from the border with Solvenia).

But apart from that, what stands out most to you? I know the photo is a bit grainy, but look closely. What's peeking out above the blue and red boas?

Yup. Breasts.

I was the only one who did a double-take when I saw this display while drinking my coffee. The rest of the crowd--men, women and children--didn't pay any attention.

Breasts are just not a big deal in Italy. Newsstands openly display magazine covers with breasts. Female newscasters wear lowcut shirts that barely contain their breasts. Walk into a pharmacy, and you'll see advertisements for skin care products that showcase--you guessed it--more breasts. Even one of my daughter's preschool teachers always wears outfits that reveal her cleavage. And no one thinks anything of it.

In the summer, women of all shapes, ages, and sizes let everything hang out (literally) at the beach. Men and women meet and greet each other, drink coffee, play cards--and not one top in sight.

I'll admit, I just can't do this. I know this "breasts-are-no-big-deal" attitude is probably much healthier than our puritanical American view of breasts. But the thought of running into someone I know and carrying on a conversation while half-naked? I can't imagine. I try to take the "When in Rome..." attitude with most things in Italy. But even the Romans wore breast-concealing togas, didn't they??