In our second year in Italy, we faced elections. We were called to vote in the European elections.
At the same time, Belgium is also holding elections for the European Parliament, Federal elections, the Flemish Parliament (regional elections), and in October, for the municipal and provincial councils.
As Belgians living in Italy, we decided to let these elections pass us by. You wouldn’t believe the amount of paperwork we’d have to fill out to participate, and what's the point of a Belgian abroad voting for a federal government in Belgium? Besides, it’s not like we can vote locally; we’d have to travel to a district office of the Belgian embassy to cast our votes. We certainly had no desire to drive an hour and a half to do so.
For the European elections, we received a notification letter entirely in Dutch. When filling out the forms, we encountered a question about voter numbers. Since we had little interest in the political commedia dell'arte, we decided to ask at our local town hall's population office. They already knew us from the hassle of registering in the municipality and were incredibly friendly. We always prepared our conversations in Italian, but the young woman at the town hall had a good grasp of English. After several phone calls within the town hall, we were sent to an office on the other side.
To our surprise, we had to pass through the hall of the mayor and aldermen. We took a moment to study the coats of arms of all the hamlets of Borgo a Mozzano. Eventually, we found ourselves in a small office at the back. We noticed that the lady there was wearing her coat, with a pack of cigarettes prominently on her desk as if smoking was her primary job. Despite her casual demeanor, she proved efficient, typing away on her computer before slapping a barcode label on our documents. “Done,” she said with a satisfied smile, handing them back. “Now return these to the population office.”
Back we went documents in hand. Weeks later, a call informed us our voting materials were ready for collection at the town hall. To our surprise, we were cleared to vote in the European and local elections. When we inquired about the mayoral candidates, the responses were vague, pointing us to posters around town. A stroll through our village suggested three candidates. Our current mayor, young and approachable, always clad in jeans and a shirt, is running for a third term.
After talking with our Italian friends, we noticed that the average Italian doesn’t lose sleep over elections. They seem indifferent to anything related to the government, and this attitude extends to banks and utility companies. Older Italians still refuse to set up direct debits, preferring to make manual payments at the post office at the beginning of the month. There’s always a lively atmosphere when they’re there, with everyone chatting and complaining about their bills or taxes.
Compared to Belgium, it’s quite different. In Belgium, we were inundated with advertising, billboards in the most unlikely places, and daily debates on national TV. Living in Italy, we saw Belgium’s political scene through a new lens. Issues that don't exist here are blown out of proportion in Belgium. We’ve all known for some time that long-term vision has been sidelined in favor of hypes and trends, with politicians taking extreme positions and bombarding us with new rules and laws to curtail our freedom. It’s no different here. The love and connection that politics needs have become a left versus right-game. Amidst this chaos, we long for a time when we can live free from fear, hatred, and the relentless flood of new laws, finding peace in unity and shared purpose.
On Friday, June 7, we decided to attend the party presentation of Ancora Insieme, the current party of the mayor. Naturally, as two gray/blonde people, we stood out during the meeting, and many probably wondered what those tourists were doing there. It was discussed that two of the seven schools in our area still needed to be updated to be safe from future earthquakes. They also talked about how hard COVID-19 hit the village, leading to the cancellation of numerous events and the closure of many shops and restaurants, but the village's strength ensured that it came back to life.
New sports facilities were promised, along with a bike path along the Serchio River, more parking spaces, and a green park next to the Fornoli bridge. Our mayor is an excellent orator and spoke passionately late into the evening. After the discussion, plates of sandwiches, pieces of pizza, cake, and cookies were brought out. Prosecco flowed generously into glasses. We joined in, and the conversation started flowing; we became part of the event. This is what we call integration, and we even got to speak with the mayor, telling him we would vote for him. He thanked us warmly for our choice.
In Italy, we can vote on either Saturday or Sunday, and we chose Sunday. The polling stations are open from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. As we happily entered, a woman immediately shook her head no. At first glance, we were probably seen as two lost tourists looking to take a peek. Like a bolt from the blue, they were startled when we handed them our documents. We were given a ballot to vote for the mayor and, without thinking, proceeded to vote. When handing in our ballot, we were told, "You're ready."
My wife noticed that there were also European elections and that our document clearly stated "communali e europee." There was some hesitation, so they had to make a call to find out what to do. We were surprised when we overheard the phone conversation: "There are two foreigners here making trouble because they also want to vote in the European elections." Our names were read out letter by letter, and finally, we received the relieving news: yes, we could also vote in the European elections. Apologies were made to us without any fuss or problem.
Our mayor may begin his third term, having secured more than 61% of the votes, making them the election winners.
