Meet my Italian 80-Year-Old Roommate - Stories from Abroad

NONNO (NO-NO) IS WHAT ITALIANS call their grandpa and I have perhaps met the best Nonno in Italy there ever was. This Nonno also happens to be my roommate and also happens to not speak English. Did I mention I started learning Italian three weeks ago?

Nonno reminds me of the character of the grandpa in the movie, The Parent Trap, with the exception of some added Italian spice. He is the epitome of what every Disney grandpa should be, with the flavor that comes with a mischievous, expressive, bold and well, Italiano soul.

Nonno can be as as sweet as the incredibly delicious Torino chocolate. Turin is the city in Northern Italy where I am staying. It is a choco-holic or cioco-dependette's dream as it is known as one of the chocolate capitols of the world. And this is true, you can't go anywhere without the life-changing chocolate being somewhere within reach. Seriously, it will change your life.

Nonno, like many other Italians in Northern Italy, love chocolate and sweet pastries and serve them not only at every meal, but sometimes for the meal. Cookies and chocolate-covered biscottis are a staple for breakfast (pair this with an American Mimosa and we have the true breakfast of champions :) ).

Torino has some of the oldest cafes in Italy and it was Nonno who first introduced me to the historic chocolate cafes in the city. It was also him that then insisted I needed some chocolate at home to enjoy, and then gifted me a box for later. He told me to keep the chocolate in my room, in case there was a chocolate emergency or something... He has taken it upon himself to make sure that I am always well-stocked in chocolate and vino. Good wine, chocolate, and an adventure are pretty much the keys to my heart and so I know on some level, we speak the same language.

Nonno has weathered 80 years of life, a fact I was surprised to learn as he is very active, takes care of himself and is mentally fit. He has a sophisticated nature: debonair and quite charming. His daughter, and the awesome mama of the host family I am tutoring, describes him as a "a particular man." Her English is broken but even in Italian culture standards, Nonno is particular. Everyday he dresses up in a tie and sports jacket and waxes his handlebar mustache and smells of delicious Givenchy cologne. He has a very authoritative and masculine presence, yet is still very soft. I imagine he was quite the Italian stallion back in his day.

MEETING NONNO

Nonno belongs to an even sweeter and just as lovely family (it must be all the chocolate) that I am tutoring English to. He has had a lot of practice being a Nonno to two teenage granddaughters, whom he adores and is very close to. He lives alone but spends a lot of time with the family and he and I join them for dinner every night. I am staying in his guest room. His Italian flat is Victorian styled and covered in antiques. I feel very comfortable at his house as it reminds me much of my own grandpa's house (who I called papa). My papa died when I was a teenager, but I remember my grandparent's house being similar to Nonnos, in that they too had that uncanny ability to stop time through their routine and way of being. As a child, I loved staying at their house and perhaps this is one reason why I feel so comfortable with Nonno.

My coffee has turned into melted chocolate

I'm also happy to report that one morning I actually had a cup of melted chocolate when I asked for coffee. I actually laughed out loud at as they served it, I guess at the absurdity of sweets. I have never had so much chocolate pre-Italy and now even my coffee has turned to melted chocolate. I'm pretty sure Willy Wonka was Italian.

This signature drink is called Al Bicerin and consists of chocolate, whole milk and only a tiny bit of coffee. It is found at the famous Caffe Al Bicerin. A cafe "where a sweet tooth made history" when it opened it's doors in 1763 and started serving the drink of melted chocolate for the royal highness. That's right, the actual King of Italy from the 1700's would sit in this same spot and enjoy the special hot drink as he pondered about his royal duties. The cafe hasn't changed much since then and so on top of tasting the kid-approved coffee, you can also taste the rich Italian history. You know as you ponder the old days and your own royal duties. More info here.

I actually didn't know much about the history of the chocolate drink before having it (the description was explained to me in Italian). My days are filled with 90 percent Italian and 10 percent English, and so I have reached the point where I only ask about the things I am really interested in...mostly because it requires a lot of acting on my part and well i'm not that great of actress. So, the drink was a wonderful surprise on a Sunday morning when I was asked by the host family to coffee and instead this American (who is also a cioco-dependette) was given melted chocolate for breakfast. Brava Italia!

NONNO THE GOOF

Nonno is distinguished and sensible, yet very goofy and light-hearted. A particular goofy that is a natural fit with my equally as light personality. He is also a goofy that speaks louder than words. Nonno speaks as much English as I speak Italian. Again, did I mention I started learning Italian just three short weeks ago?

Getting to know each other has been through the other 90% of communication: non-verbal, that which comes from just being human. Nonno's sense of humor became apparent upon first meeting and after the room had become too quiet. Neither Nonno or I are shy, and so you can imagine how heavy a silent room can be for the two of us. So it is at this time, Nonno decides to break the silence by putting on my sunglasses and dancing around the room: a gesture I enjoyed very much and I think we have been friends ever since. Brava, Nonno!

*As a disclaimer Nonno says Brava a lot..i.e when he parks the car in a tight spot or we find a close parking spot. It also one of the few words we both understand, and thus I have started saying it, when anything good ...or even slightly good happens.. BRAVAAA!

Nonno is usually in a good mood, and well, so am I. Neither of us seems to take life too seriously. We often giggle at each other when our own version of charades and/or my English-Italian app on my phone doesn't work and we are left utterly confused and a bit frustrated. Yesterday, I asked him (via the app) if he would drop me off in the center of town. To which, Nonno took my expression "to drop" literally and didn't understand why I wanted him to "make me fall" in the center of town.

NONNO AND HIS "ROMANCES"

Nonno not only wears his emotions on his sleeve, but is vocal about his emotions on his sleeve. I tend to wear my emotions (despite my best efforts) on my sleeve, but I am not as vocal. So it is especially of interest to me to watch Nonno, a very proud and masculine man, be rather bold about his..uh more sensitive side. This might just be the Italiano in him...

On one of our first evenings alone together, Nonno told me (via language app) to make myself comfortable as his romance on TV would start at 9 p.m.

"Tu romance? (your romance) I asked, thinking this was another one of his jokes.

"Si," he said, but very seriously and matter of factly.

Fast forward to the two of us watching, essentially an Italian soap opera or a Lifetime/Hallmark movie (complete with a hospital scene and death of an injured lover). I look over at Nonno as he is completely entranced. I also catch him watching reality TV series that look something like an Italian version of Keeping Up with the Kardashians... P.S below is a picture that Nonno took of me in the city and that is his thumb.. it still makes me laugh.

Nonno’s thumb as he takes a picture of me in the city

COMMUNICATION IS NOT JUST VERBAL

For two people that shouldn't understand each other at all, we do seem to understand each other quite well. We have the same sense of humor and that helps a lot. Maybe we just are similar in spirit overall, or maybe we met in a past life, I'm not sure. All I can say is that I enjoy Nonno. He always seems to understand where I am at emotionally and mentally, without being able to understand me verbally. So for whatever reason, we seem to get each other in this moment of life.

AND THEN CAME ANNA...

Nonno has a housekeeper from Albania named Anna. She is pretty, in her thirties, assertive, zesty and full of life. She is equally as expressive as Nonno, but is more dramatic in her moods and not as naturally upbeat. She is very upset when she is upset and very happy when she is happy. Nonno and Anna seem to be old friends. They often tease one another like an old married couple. Anna has ended up being just as important character from my day-to-day routine and is even a part of one of my favorite moments in Italy, thus far...

AND THEN CAME THE PROVACOTIVE "ZIRZILLETTE"

“There are so many times where I think I am supposed to be happy, but find myself surprisingly unhappy.

And then, there are moments like this, those moments that catch you by surprise and end up drastically shifting and shaping your world: the happy-happen stances of pure human expression.”

This morning, Anna came into the kitchen where Nonno and I were having breakfast. Eating together is important and breakfast and dinner are spent sitting down with the family. This particular morning Anna was unusually very happy and was enthusiastically singing and dancing freely while she cleaned.

"Today I am happy," she said in English. Anna's English isn't great but it is much better than my Italian. She began to sing even louder and then started playing Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" on her phone as she continued to dance and sing around the kitchen.

Nonno was especially entertained by her joy and said something to her in Italian that was followed by the the word, zirzillette, a word which hit a nerve with Anna.

As soon as it left Nonno's mouth, she smacked him playfully but powerfully across the chest.

"No," she said sternly but with a laugh. I then asked just what this intriguing and spicy word meant.

"Nonno thinks I am happy, because he thinks I made love to my husband all night," she said. I looked at Nonno who had a silly grin on his face.

"Well did you?" I said with a smile, delighted by the whole interaction.

She laughed again. "No, I am just happy. No reason."

"Zirzillette," Nono said again laughing and flapping his arms like a bird.

Nonno then motioned for me to grab my phone, so he could translate the most interesting word to me via my app.

I took a screenshot of the definition, that is according to Nonno in his translation. It is quite a definition and a lot of words for one word, but as such is the Italian way, especially when it comes to expressing love.

That's when Anna took Nonno by the hand and asked him to dance. Nonno, not one to turn down a good dancing partner, stood up and the two of them floated away on their own cloud of happiness (which i'm sure was made of Italian leather). They sang and danced together, twirling life in the way that it was always meant to be twirled...

It was such a simple, yet beautiful and real moment of joy that I will remember for the rest of my life.

In a world of social media and fake friends and unhappy smiles, how rare is it that we actually really encounter authentic moments of pure bliss?

There are so many times where I think I am supposed to be happy, but find myself surprisingly unhappy.

And then, there are moments like this, those moments that catch you by surprise and end up drastically shifting and shaping your world: the happy-happen stances of pure human expression.

My heart filled even more, as I clapped my hands and cheered them on..

If someone ever asks me to think of a happy thought (any happy little thought) it will be of this moment.

The ridiculous and beautiful morning in Italy...where the sun danced across the kitchen table and What a Wonderful World played as Anna and Nonno sang to their own tune of Zirzilletti…