The Italian Soundtrack

    Can a country have its own sound? Anyone who's spent any time here knows that Italy does.

    When I used to come for the summer as a child, I'd lie in bed that first night in my grandmother's apartment in Naples listening to the wondrous soundtrack of Italy. That's how I'd know I was back. So different from the States. 

    It's a mixture of sounds -- motorized scooters or "motorini" in the distance, car horns, shutters and gates opening and closing, dogs barking, sirens blaring, and of course, Italians talking (or screaming). 

    It's all loud. Italians have a great tolerance for noise -- and a great capacity to make it. (me included).  

    It's all the more striking when you've been gone for awhile. And living in the U.S. suburbs, which can be eerily quiet.

    This morning, not long after the sun came up, Italy was already in full swing here on my side of the hill.

    First, my neighbors were outside on their lawn, chatting loudly (Italians don't know how to talk softly, me included), which was strange. They sell vegetables in the local market, so they're usually gone in their truck laden with produce long before dawn.

    Then the dogs of the neighborhood started, one sparking the other in what quickly becomes a symphony of barking. 

     I lay in bed thinking, what the hell is going on?

    Not long afterwards, an earth-shattering bang, followed by a few more of the same. If I had been in the States, I would've run for cover. 

    But here, I just rolled over, got up and opened my shutters to look out.

    Fireworks. Really powerful ones. Before 8 a.m. You gotta be kidding.

    But stupid me. It was my town's patron saint day. I didn't even know. Never been here in May before. Never lived here before.