Friday was December 4^th, the festival of Santa Barbara. Here in Italy, Italians celebrate their onomastico—or name day. The onomastico for Giuseppe—or Joseph in English—is 19 March….which is also Father’s Day in Italy.  So on Friday, while Barbaras everywhere celebrated their name day, it was still a notable day for the likes of me.  Santa Barbara is the patron saint of the Italian Navy (also firefighters and artillery people), so I spent my morning sending well wishes to Italian colleagues both past and present. 

“Thank you!” came back the overwhelming flavor of responses, “This is a special day for us. May Santa Barbara protect you and your Navy as well.”  

I’m not Italian, but Santa Barbara holds a special memory because it was the first work/social event I attended at my last job working in an international organization. I had arrived only three weeks prior (just long enough to figure out getting to work and recalling my office mates’ names). I still wasn’t savvy enough to sift through my work emails and distinguish the most interesting to the most pressing. The interesting ones always revolved around the social calendar. You work with 28 other nations, and every month there is abound to be more than one celebration to look forward to.

“Are you coming with us?” my Spanish coworker asked while I sat at my desk, scrutinizing the dozens of unread emails in my queue.

“Where?” I asked, looking up at three people already dressed in their various flavors of military parkas.

“To the Mess!” I was told, “The Italians are giving a toast.”

A toast? To what? Why?

I decided not to ask and only responded with, “Why not?” I reached for my Eisenhower jacket and look around for my headgear. I was still very much in the information gathering/routine making phase of the job.

As we walked the five minutes to the officer’s mess, I reflected on a fire drill that the HQ held just days earlier. It thrust everyone outside into the cold and I was even more confused because the jackets covered up the names of people whose faces I tried to learn.  I glanced at one colleague—his jacket had a star on the tip of each collar and I wondered if he was an admiral. As we stood there, he introduced himself as a Dutch officer. I commented on his fancy jacket, and he replied that no, he was not an admiral and in fact he was wearing his Italian colleague’s jacket because he had forgotten his in the rush outside. Multinational gatherings are confusing. But they are also extremely fun once you get the hang of things.

When we arrived at the mess, the interior was mildly decorated with an Italian tricolor that was pinned up on a wall. I am fairly certain there was also a sign with a religious-looking image of a woman bathed in a crown of light. There were also green, white and red table clothes draped together over tables adorned with Italian food and drink: prosciutto, cantucci, panettone, prosecco and limoncello. As an American having just observed Thanksgiving, this felt like an official kickoff to Christmas.

As I would soon come to find out, these sort of social functions always guaranteed a high turnout by everyone in the building. As it was described to me, “everyone wants to go because the events are an opportunity for each nation to show off their best in food, drink and culture. The observance of Santa Barbara was no different.  

It wasn’t long after I arrived in the crowded room that the head of the Italian delegation showed up. With a glass of prosecco in hand, he explained in his very British English accent what Santa Barbara meant and her relevance to the Italian Navy. Then he raised his glass and led a toast before inviting everyone to enjoy what his team had prepared. 

I stayed long enough to enjoy a bit of prosecco and of course some of the delicious food on offer. I was new and still did not know many people, and as such, I was shy. I stayed for a little while before retreating on my own to my desk and the still sizeable amount of fairly-confusing emails.  I had already learned that it was easiest to concentrate in the office at lunchtime because everyone else was gone. The rest of the time at work you are usually engaged in conversations that don’t seem to go anywhere—but somehow pay enormous dividends later on. Such is life in an international workplace.

It wasn’t too long before the heavy door to our office swung open and a gaggle of coworkers returned from the mess. I didn’t pay them much mind….until a plastic shot glass suddenly came into my field of vision. It was set down next to my keyboard.

“This is from Francesco,” said an Italian clearly after hand-delivering the glass from across the campus. I glanced at the limoncello and then again at my computer screen. Then I looked up at the Italian with a quizzical look.

“You left early and he’d made this special for the festa and he wanted to make sure you tried some.”

Over my right-hand shoulder at my five o’clock was the boss’s office and he always had an open-door view to my desk from where he sat.  He was also an American and a very good guy. Probably the best boss I’d ever had in my career. But still, drinking in the office was not something I was accustomed to—nor could I know what he would say if he saw me doing it.

“Grazie,” I finally told the Italian. Then I lifted up the tiny cup and took a sip. It was delicious. The Italian Navy was suddenly fantastic. And as I continued to sip, the side effect was that it made skimming my emails so much easier.

I learned a lot more about many of the traditions coming from each nation while working in that job. As there were so many, I of course can no longer remember each one. But Santa Barbara, that’s the one that sticks in my mind each year—even before I moved to Italy.  What’s even more amusing is that after texting one of the Italians last Friday, his immediate response was, “Thank you—but when is the Navy Day in the US?”  

I paused for a second while walking down a side street in Rome. It was October……October 13^th, right? I hesitated. Wasn’t that it? I am not the best with dates in general—but in contrasting the Italian Navy’s rock-solid knowledge of December 4^th with my now foggy recall of the US Navy’s birthday—I had to look it up to double check. As it turns out, I had it correct. Thank goodness.

Don’t be fooled—I did not experience many days like that first Santa Barbara back at my old job. And even now I don’t find myself rolling into the office and coming upon a glass of alcohol sitting at my desk. Those times are reserved for special occasions. 

But what I have learned is that one of the best things about being immersed in an international environment is the overwhelming humanity and eagerness to share and learn about one another’s traditions. I have no doubt that next year, god willing, we will have a vaccine and I will be able to join my American coworkers in showing the Italian Navy how we toast the US Navy with some grog or (hopefully) some limoncello since we’re in Rome. For now, I’m still running on the vapors of the memories from years gone by. And looking forward to the new ones that will be made in the future.