so far I am living a comfortable lifestyle for my needs and wants. The one time I do feel wealthy is when I watch foreign films and see how the majority in the rest of the world live!
Tangomonster: arguably living on the edge between the First and Second world, I can attest to this, even though it affects me to a most minor degree. The "rich" people here mostly either do not or cannot concede themselves the space and "luxuries" that even a middle- or lower-middle class family would enjoy in the US. A clothes dryer?
I have not yet seen a family here that has one. A GAS clothes dryer is inconceivable/unavailable, despite a 6-8 month cold/wet/rainy season; I could drive many hours to the US base near Vicenzo or further North in hope of snagging one (it's one of the conceded "perks" of foreign assignment here that dryers are made available, from what I understand; non-military folks can hope to get them second-hand at the end of someone else's tour -same with American model cars- or contact the 1 or 2 re-sellers in that area for new merch.). One can go into the home of a millionaire in the area where I live now and see clothes drying on a rack in the LR. It's just the way things are done. It's cold/rainy right now, and my clothes are hanging in the LR.
It's quite interesting to go to the h/w store and see just as many new models of wood-burning cookstoves as there are electric or gas models.
Particularly disconcerting is that we've bought what, to an American, would be
almost a "normal" house, yet (naively) I have come to learn that it is
"the best house in town X"! That puts us socially out-of-kilter and out-of-whack.. When people come to learn where we live (a house that has ONE electrical outlet for the kitchen not occupied by the stove or fridge)... we are the "rich folks". And they metaphorically tug their forelock and move on. I am not the "lady of the manor" they expect. When the mailman comes, I am in my faded and pilled flower-patterned stretch-pants circa 1985 from the Limited Express!!! At the same time, I do see frequently Porsche Cayennes and big Mercedes pass by-- we don't travel in those circles, either. (It's entirely possible, as in a ghetto, that the Porsche owner actually lives in some "buco" (hole), and/or his automobilistic wealth is ill-gotten).
But the point is, I don't feel rich.
I feel as much excluded as empowered by any material wealth I possess. I am neither fish nor fowl. I can't spend with abandon on restructuring, re-upholstering, artwork, spa treatments, yachts, and summers in Sardegna.. nor can I commiserate with the working stiffs. I've been getting the raised-eyebrow Italian version of "what do you do all day?". [Much more severe here: the constitution begins: "Italy is a republic founded on work". And we are in the most-red heart of Communist territory: the 'ex'-communists are the "majority"; there is no "opposition" in the local politics, only the "minority" who are the other sect of 'ex'-communists. In the eyes of many here, "rich" = undeserving slackers who suck the blood of the proletariat.. when they are not fawning over the exploits of warmed-over royalty like the exiled Savoias and any number of minor princes and princesses hanging around from the Medici/Borgia period.]. My BIL is a marquis from Caserta, the ex-House of Savoy seat [rivals Versailles, I am told]. He's broke, but he puts the family crest on his business card. Ferdinando de Natale Sifola Galiani. Three last names! The more the better. The Italian gov't. axed multiple last names in an effort to quash the nobility. At some point they relented, and he had to go through a legal proce$$ to get them rein$tated.
Bizarre disconnects for a democratic American: we were invited to a cocktail party hosted by our previous landlady, who was "of the nobility" in some way, and lived in a (smallish) castle. I didn't know anyone at the event but her and her son/DIL and was trying to "mingle". Some (hereditary) lawyer was droning on about how "we (his family) have been here since the 14th century" [American response -witheld: "Who's 'we'?"] and, quite interesting, a defense of the Napoleonic code of justice... when I spy a lady I met from working on the town sagra (food festival.. think tourist-oriented church supper). "Ciao, Rossella!" Rossella freezes. I want to talk to her, but she is the "servant", doling out the tepid mini-pizzas for the Castle reception; she cannot speak to me. She and the other guests are highly discomfited that I have broken the unspoken barrier between master and servant. Gulp!
Some here really do live a "Miss Haversham" kind of life. In castles (or apartments) without central heat, but surrounded by tapestries and exquisite artifacts and most of all second-/third-/fourth-hand memories of previous eras.
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"Rich" in monetary terms, as I said in one of my other posts, would be flying first class and not thinking 2x about it. Rich in societal terms would be having lots of similar friends here as I did in the US (v. difficult here given the politics and the reality). Rich in intellectual terms means lots of cultural events/bookstores/cinemas/libraries, etc., but since there's a paucity of those I find myself ever more immersed in the "home country" Internet offerings for sustenance on that score.
What IS "rich" here is the connection to their traditions/family and to the food/agriculture/earth. I appreciate that very much, despite the many lacunae (lack of sensibilty about things like water/waste/recycling; being told not to bother with Round-Up for an errant fig tree-- just douse it with gasoline!, etc.).
We are most definitely lucky and fortunate and for the most part comfortable. I will withold judgment on "rich/wealthy". In monetary terms, "rich" I would define as " I can do what *I* want". Truly wealthy = "I can do what *I* want, and so can my kids, three ex-wives, our/their kids, grandkids, etc." ad infinitum.