Una deviazione in Toscana!
The sunset was stunning, but this particular work exchange situation was not for me.
I stayed two nights of my intended 14 before bolting for a hotel. And I am so thankful to have the means and ability to make a detour like that, and it is not lost on me how many people can’t get free from the situations in which they find themselves where their gut is saying “get out!” and their social conditioning or lack of power doesn’t allow for that.
Themes very familiar to me emerged from the scant 48 hours at the agriturismo:
Expectations informed by magical thinking
Distrust of instinct
Sexual harassment d/b/a cultural differences
I would say these three are probably familiar to most women and people with feminine gender expression (defining these terms is a book or forty not written by me, but you get me for the purposes of this).
As I’ve moved through the world and into some of my most important relationships, I’ve readily employed the first two, likely because of the third. Not that sexual harassment was present in those relationships (because thankfully, and statistically shockingly, it was not) but because I have filtered my identity and my choices through that lens that women get slotted in front of them during puberty that changes the tone and tenor of how you see yourself and how you’re seen.
(And obviously I’m still trying to get out from behind that.)
Expectations informed by magical thinking
I don’t know if magical thinking is the correct term. What I mean is: Omissions of truth? Selective hearing/reading? Intellectual maneuvering to avoid inconvenience? Fiction writing, but in my lived reality instead of on a page?
I did this a lot in my marriage. At times I was aware I was doing it, and there’s other instances that are just unraveling themselves to me now. And I did it in every romantic relationship I ever had, in an attempt not lose the relationship even though - and maybe even because - that unreciprocated relationship was evidently on rocky ground. Evident because if someone says to you, maybe in terms not this direct, but almost, “I don’t want to do what you want to do,” that’s what they mean. Especially if they have been socialized as a man, because (mostly) they aren’t trained the way (most) women are, to constantly hedge with language and moderate based on the response, submitting their wants and needs to the perceived wants and needs of the other. (Look at me softening with my parentheticals dammit!)
In this Workaway situation, I used my finely honed skills in the field to conveniently elide the fact that my lodging options were a camper, like, with a steering wheel, or a room in the host’s house. I pieced together a story that I liked better where I would basically be at an AirBnB, independent except for some clearly defined work each day and delicious farm-fresh meals with an international crew.
YES, I realize this is delusional but when you really want something “to work” which really means “to conform to the idea you are comfortable with,” you will do all sorts of backflips, triple salchows, hat-tricks (I’m out of my depth, people) whatever it takes to keep your grubby little white-knuckled grip on that idea!
I really wanted to stay for 2 weeks for free on a farm in Italy. I didn’t have my garden anymore, but I was going to dip into the growing season here. I decided it was happening, I said it was happening, so it had to happen. And so when I arrived and the reality of it peskily weaseled to the front, I was like “I’m disappointed! This isn’t what I thought it would be!” And I had to say to myself, Self, what you thought was actually what you dreamed, and I mean that in the sense of a fantasy, not a goal.
Day 1: I moved the branches from the ground into the trailer.
Distrust of instinct
Another super cool thing women get taught to do is ignore their instincts and gut feelings. Sometimes our animal brains and bodies advise us to go against the rules of civilized society to which they are not privy. And that type of advice cannot be tolerated. This gut doesn’t know the societal truths that: if a man is saying/doing something, it’s right! If a person with money or other power is saying/doing something, it’s right! If a ‘respected institution’ is saying/doing something, it’s right!
So when I felt off - uncomfortable with, ill-at-ease, icky, whatever you want to call the feeling, you know it - about this agriturismo pretty much as soon as I got there, I dismissed that. I tried to convince myself that my gut feeling was wrong, and if I just waited it out/tried a little harder/made myself amenable, eventually I would come around. Dismiss the instinct so that you can keep the dream, so you can get, or more usually, be, the thing that’s acceptable.
That night in my journal I wrote: “He kind of like whacked or tapped my belly twice like to say ‘come on’ which was weird but I’m not concerned. Just noting for future. So I could’ve stayed in his camper like a caravan thing or in this spare room in his apt. Sharing a bathroom lol. Def a departure from my private penthouse in Bologna. Of course my tired, exhausted, newly officially divorced instinct is to be like 1. I need to leave 2. I’ll stay in the camper. But then I thought about it, I’m like, I’m a 35 year old woman I can handle myself and I do handle myself and I have power of my own. So yes I’m here ‘free’ but I will do good work and help so I can assert any and all boundaries and needs as needed. Like Italians are known for being romantic and amore obsessed. Freedom with the body. I am trying to be reasonable like not take fear/anxiety as my ‘gut response’. "
Look at me go! The nervous lols! The devastating “just noting for the future”! The self-awareness that it WAS my gut and then pathologizing it into anxiety!
I know I am not the only one who has tried so hard to ignore my instinct in order to keep my promise, to avoid conflict, to not have anyone “feel bad.” But the second night at the agriturismo, something switched in my mind, a similar synapse to the one that cracked in the early fall when I knew our marriage was over, that reminded me that feeling uncomfortable and disrespected in a situation is enough of a reason to leave it.
Day 2: I mixed some compost into clay soil in a planter converted from the old cow feeder/waterer.
Sexual harassment d/b/a ‘cultural differences’
As is common, I struggled to believe that the below instances at the agriturismo were “bad enough.” But again, I’m trying to remember that I’m not looking at the legal or policy definitions of sexual harassment. I’m looking at this specific experience, my level of comfort in a voluntary situation where I was trying to follow the societal rules of “keeping a promise” and “being nice.”
Here are the harassment highlights of the 36 hours I was there (16 of which I was sleeping in my locked room, thank God.)
In discussing food preferences/restrictions, I said I eat everything, and he lifted up my shirt an inch to check my stomach, and then looked behind on either side of me, presumably to check my ass, and then said something to the effect of “not too bad.”
Taking excessive photos of me when I was clearly uncomfortable - like covering my face with my hands, moving away. Moving closer to me with the phone as I became more uncomfortable.
Asking me which dress I liked in a store in the town, and then saying the one I pointed out would be sexy and making those stupid curvy hand motions.
Telling me about numerous previous volunteer/workawayers who were so ‘beautiful’.
Telling me about his ex-partners, how devastated he was when they broke up with him, but how they keep talking and meet up, etc. (nothing explicit, just emotional dumping, over-familiarity, and why was this relevant to me as a farm volunteer?)
Hugging me the first night after dinner which was frozen pizza, I do not tell a lie, saying that when I first arrived he didn’t hug me because I was a bit ‘‘nervous” but volunteers are like family so we hug. And then he hugged me and cheek kissed me the next two mornings.
And the kicker, pun entirely intended: saying my bare feet looked sexy, after bringing attention to them by feigning concern with my being cold.
Are these crimes? No. Was I entirely creeped out? Yes. And isn’t that enough?
These are cultural and generational differences. I don’t think he was, as we said in the biz, a ‘bad actor.’ But I couldn’t imagine how I could stay there for two weeks if it continued as it was, or even if I somehow gathered the gumption to say something. And I know there are horrifyingly worse situations that do not have an escape. But my staying uncomfortable doesn’t make those situations go away, unfortunately.
So the second morning, while he was out, I quickly put one suitcase in the car so if there was any resistance I’d have less to carry. He came back and hugged and cheek kissed me and asked if I slept well and had good dreams, which like yes, I know those actions and questions are not in and of themselves offensive or harassing but this vibe was not tenable for me. I went to do the one garden prep task I’d said I’d do, while he went out again. I debated whether I should wait for him to come back to tell him or just split and message him. I decided I didn’t owe him anything and I left, messaging him from the side of the road, mi dispiace, but this experience wasn’t for me, I had different expectations and I’m sorry but I had to end my stay short. My stomach wasn’t flip flopping anymore trying to tell me something, and I was relieved.
Val d’Orcia, roadside view on my way out