We have just returned from 6 weeks in California and the girls and I
are experiencing jet lag and culture shock. With another week until school
starts, we headed to Liguria (the Mediterranean coast) for some sea and sun.
We are staying at Loano@village, a family resort near the ocean.
It's a bit like Italian version of the Catskills in the fifties. There's a team
of 20 something year olds who work as the lifeguards, activity leaders and wait
staff all day and then at night they perform a show.
Last night was “Chicago”. A
valiant attempt by a bunch of amateur Italians to do a very American show (as my
husband said, they could be speaking Russian for all he can understand
them). Topped off by the French DJ
singing “Mr Cellophane”.
It was perfect for my daughters who were fixated on the stage. In
the past month we have seen performances by the London cast of Mathilda, Pink
Martini and now this. I gotta say, that
for kids who are living in a town of under 200 people, my girls are having
quite the theatrical buffet.
I notice that the young women in the cast, all dressed in skimpy
cabaret outfits have bodies considered fashionable in the 50s. Round, plump
bellies, not emaciated stick thin Barbies like in California. Bimba asked me if the (fishnet) stockings are
made with holes or did the girls rip them.
And she wants feathers to put in her hair and a garter belt like the one
the lead singer wore.
The young men are endearing in a dorky way. They aren’t modelesque sportsmen, but are rather
geeky and pimple faced. I notice that all of the young staff have an enthusiasm
and lack of self consciousness that I am not used to seeing. There’s an
innocence to them.
Combine this with the family atmosphere which is just inherently
Italian. Grandparents sit with small
children at the café, three generations share the pool during Aqua Zumba class.
The dorky counselors who think they're cool in a truly endearing way
are as likely to be playing charades with s group of children as they are to be
playing cards with a table of eight year olds.
And not in a "this is my job" way.
I watch one counselor, acne covered face (he could barely be out of
his teens) - who confidently played a debonair cabaret owner in last night's
show - now wearing baggy pants and sporting an orange wig, apparently to please
the children. He hops up from his chair to go give an elderly woman a big
hug and order her a cafe. Then he sits down with her and chats earnestly. I
wonder if they're related or if this is just a guest he has gotten to know. I
see another counselor who played the confident MC in last night’s show,
organizing a group of six year old girls into a hula hoop contest before going
over to greet an elderly couple with a huge grin. He brings them over to
sit at a table near the hula hoooong girls.
These can’t all be family relations.
Are they long time customers? I
envy the familiarity between the children and the young men and women. The ease
and comfort of the older people. There's
a sense of place and belonging that is completely foreign to me.
Where I come from you are guests.
Hotel staff maybe be lovely but they're not great friends. They're not family.
Everyone here seems to belong.
My thoughts are interrupted when one of the young women from the show,
offers to teach my girls some of the choreography. Petite’s face is a mixture of delight and
panic. A grandmotherly lady at the next
table encourages my daughter, “Dai!” Go!
Dance! The guy with the orange wig
offers the lady his arm and sweeps her into a Charleston jig. Bimba and Petite stand up and follow along
while the French DJ starts his rendition of “All That Jazz”.
