Neither here nor there

The Old Soul said it to me once, in the context of a work situation (where we were hot and sweaty and tired and hauling stuff while our clients were showered and dressed and gliding off to evening dinner engagements): "It's not very often it's this obvious, but there is definitely an us, and there's a them."

And, you see, that's the funny thing here: there is, most definitely, an 'us and them' and I am neither.

Neither "villa owner" nor "contadina" (farmer)

Neither city-dweller nor truly rural.

Neither permanent, nor just-passing-through.

Neither laborer nor elite.

Neither Italian nor tourist.

I am welcomed into the kitchen at my local "contadini" restaurant like family. Both Friday and Saturday nights I will be dining -- quite elegantly, I'm sure -- as a guest at two different villas, amongst fascinating people who could buy-and-sell me in a heartbeat. In my most honest of moments, I will confess that while I play a damn good game in both, I am not truly comfortable in my skin in either world. It is disquieting and liberating all at the same time to feel as if you belong somewhere, but not truly with anyone -- or perhaps, a little bit, with everyone. Complicated things, souls are.

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair where I sit.
There isn't any other stair
Quite like it.

I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where I always stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up and isn't down.
It isn't in the nursery,
It isn't in the town.

And all kinds of funny thoughts
Go running round my head:
"It isn't really anywhere!
It's somewhere else instead!

(A.A. Milne)