I've been living in Italy a long time and the deeper issue here is that there is a concept of family that has just not yet evolved to a point that the rest of the western world may feel is acceptable. But I have to say, if Canada is an apple, Italy is an olive. You just can't compare them. I'm not making excuses, but trying to explain that this is a society that moves as slow as a sloth, in spite of all the genius and innovation it has historically gifted the world.
Communications Consultant, Writer, Information addict
Brandie Silva is a communications consultant, writer and trainer based in Milan, Italy. <br> <br> An experienced print journalism reporter, Brandie has worked and written for newspapers and online news sources that include The Toronto Sun, Brant News, Guelph Tribune, English24 (Il Sole 24 Ore) and Documentarystorm.com . As a full-time observer of culture, she documents and comments on Italian and Canadian life in the areas of politics, health, relationships, dating, sex, food, wine and style on a variety of platforms: Italian radio, blogging, public speaking and short-film production. <br> <br> A decade of living the Milan day-to-day and training Italian business professionals in the fine and applied art of effective global communication and persuasion, Brandie has gathered a tonne of primary research on the intricacies of contemporary ex-pat Italian life, and is currently working on a selection of short, provocative stories for publication.
Among all of the North American-esque things that the Italians here in Milano have appropriated, I think brunch has to be one of the most interesting. The most entertaining part of our midday meal was the moment when we realized we were the only people actually eating brunch food.
01/20/2013 11:04 EST
It all just went down so quickly. We met, hit it off and I was honest. So we started seeing each other for a while and when I had to return back to Italy, we continued things online, knowing I'd be back in Canada after a couple of months. One day, everything was fine and we were chatting online, as you do when you're far away from your guy. It was pretty late my time -- six hours ahead of Toronto -- and he wrote this: "brb." Now, that was almost six months ago and I've never heard back.
10/25/2012 12:17 EDT
About a year ago I was standing outside a crowded bar in a famous mid-town Milan high street, crying into my phone. I had just found out my mother had a heart attack and needed to be operated on. Those tears were not flowing because of fear, sorrow or empathy. No. They were hot, stinging streams of anger running down my face.
10/15/2012 05:41 EDT
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