THE RESTLESS NATIVE:

The heat in Naples has finally eased back from the unbearable, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t longed for the beach every afternoon. Unfortunately, for many days, swimming wasn’t an option for me because of my lingering cold.

Unfortunately for Renato, every time we spent the day together, swimming wasn’t an option for him either. To escape the heat, we hid in the shade at the park, drank cool drinks at a bar and soaked up the air conditioning at the cinema.

For any readers who might be wondering, no, I haven’t met his parents yet, but one hot day before I could venture to the beach, I took the train to his hometown and met two of his friends. I have to admit that it felt pretty romantic, going by train to see my guy. Maybe it was just a little thing, but it was so nice stepping off that train to find him waiting there for me. Perhaps I should thank Hollywood for romanticizing train travel.

In our relationship, Renato and I have had two minor heroes. For a while we kept our relationship a secret from his family (a long story in itself), and it was not always easy to maneuver around this situation.

Gaetano was our first hero for several reasons. When I left for Sicily (and missed the train from Naples), Renato stayed at the station with me for as long as he could as I waited for the next train. This caused him to miss all the buses and trains heading back to his hometown, essentially leaving him stranded in Naples.

Enter Gaetano. He saved the day by driving to the station and picking up Renato. Afterward, Gaetano was not only Renato’s cover story on several occasions, but also his first confidant.

Our second hero was Dino, for too many reasons to mention. When I went to visit Renato in his hometown, I met our two accomplices for the first time face to face.

Together, Renato and I went from the train station to meet Gaetano at his home. I was quite nervous, since this was the first of Renato’s friends that I was meeting, and I am still very self-conscious about my Italian. I quickly discovered that there was nothing to be nervous about. Gaetano is a total sweetheart and really seemed pleased to have the opportunity to speak English. (And another reason why he is my hero: Like me, Gaetano is trying to get Renato to quit smoking.)

The three of us sat for a while and talked before taking a walk through the town. It’s the kind of small town where everyone seems to know everyone else. We could barely walk two blocks without running into a friend of Renato. We even stopped and had a cold drink with Gaetano’s uncle after meeting him on the street. All of this was a new and rather charming experience for me.

Finally we walked to a church and inside we stopped to enjoy a small wedding taking place. It was the kind of Italian day you only expect to see in the movies.

After saying goodbye to Gaetano, Renato and I took refuge from the heat at a local park and ate apples right off a nearby tree. In the evening, we returned to the train station, and as we were waiting for my train, Dino arrived on his moped. Since we had plenty of time, Dino let us take his moped for a spin around the block. Before going, I asked him if he wouldn’t mind holding my purse. He said yes, took it in one hand, smiled coyly and said something in Italian that I couldn’t understand.

Laughing, Renato explained before we sped off that standing alone at a station with a purse in his hand made Dino feel like a prostitute, but Dino, who was also laughing as we rode away, really didn’t seem to mind my unintentional emasculating request.

When we returned, he was sitting on a bench, sans suitor, so he must have faired well in our absence. Gaetano and Dino were lots of fun and both suggested we all go out again soon.

This has given me more confidence in meeting Renato’s other friends (though I am still nervous about meeting Renato’s parents). Tomorrow I will be returning to his hometown to attend the birthday party of yet another friend, which will no doubt mean that I’ll be meeting many new people. In addition, Renato informed me that this friend knows many American soldiers stationed in Italy, and in preparation for my arrival, he has purchased a lot of American-style food for his party. It will be interesting to see what Italians think of American cuisine.

Since I have started the habit of writing about my day off, I will give a quick review of this week’s adventure. I stayed at the hostel again this week and thankfully there was a bed available in one of the dorms, which meant I was able to sleep late rather than get up early to allow the common room to be set up for breakfast. Also, my manager gave me two free tickets to see “Madame Butterfly” at the Arena Flagrea.

Renato and I had planned to go out to dinner before the show and make a real night of it. I have always wanted to see this opera and was very excited to attend. Unfortunately, at the last minute, Renato was unable to go, and I ended up taking three women from the hostel, who had been given free tickets as well. We rode the bus for most of the way, but, after many well-intentioned misdirections by friendly locals, we found ourselves, just minutes before the start of the opera, wandering around looking for the arena! I was quite on edge, not only because I was the tour guide of sorts, but also because I really wanted to see this production and felt the possibility slipping away.

At last, we found a taxi and rode the rest of the way, arriving 15 minutes after the start — thanks to the slowest taxi driver in Naples, who seemed more interested in flirting with the girl in the front seat than in getting us to our location on time.

The production was beautiful, but by the time we were really settled in, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open.

Afterward, two of the ladies I went with refused to walk any further and I had to call the hostel to get Errico to send a taxi for us. Despite being a pain for most of the night, these same two women ended up giving me a good laugh. When the opera ended and we were comparing notes, it was clear that these women had mistaken “Madame Butterfly” for “M. Butterfly,” a story with some similarities to the opera, but in which the Japanese lover is a man who disguises himself as a woman to get information from a love-struck American man.

I can only imagine my companions’ attempts to make this story fit into what they were seeing on the stage! Though my romantic evening with Renato mutated into a wild goose chase that ended in exhaustion and general frustration, I must say that I learned a lot (most importantly: how to get to Arena Flagrea), and I even managed to laugh a little on the way.

With any luck, I will be spending next week’s night off with Renato. Right about now, I am imagining us at a quiet beach with cold drinks enjoying cool water and a long nap under an umbrella! Tomorrow will certainly bring its own excitement, but I’m sure all will go well.

So, until next time, ciao raggazzi!