An American Girl (still) in Italy

For Italians, both her native born and adopted stragglers like myself, Giorgio Gaber’s song ‘Io non mi sento Italiano, ma per fortuna o purtroppo lo sono’ (I don’t feel like I am an Italian, but by good luck or bad luck, I am) paints a vivid portrait of the disillusionment of those who lhave a love-hate relationship with this country.

Last night, this song, sung by Silvestri moved many, including myself to angry tears. My adopted country, as many of my friends and loved ones know, is a place that I have fought hard to live in. A country where work is in short supply, where being foreign doesn’t help and where often, if not daily, one has to fight the urge to not give up, let go or just leave. To go back to America , a place where it’s easier financially and where hope for change isn’t a long forgotten word but one most of its' citizens still believe in.

Modern Italy – a founding member of the EU, Nato and the G8 and Nato, known for its opera and artists, fashion sex appeal and fast automobiles, has become a place where more and more people, feel left out, alienated and abandoned. Where the best and brightest at Italian universities now advise their young acolytes to immigrate elsewhere. Italy is a country where the average citizen, be he a man-about-town or a blue collar worker, would rather identify with their city’s long dead master artists, poets or heroes than their current government and its figureheads. They feel their country and what it stands for, is becoming more and more like one of Rome’s dusty monuments: too tattered, too destroyed and too expensive to fix.

Last night on RAI 3 television two Italians on a controversial new TV show debated whether or not they should stay or go, and gave very personal and very public answers to this question that plagues so many of us.

Fabio - Vado via perché non se ne può più.
Fabio – I go away because I can't take it any more.

Roberto - Vado via perché non mi sento un eroe.
Roberto – I go away because I don’t feel like a hero **this is the author of Gommorah who is under 24 hour national police guard for this story about the inner workings of the Neapolitan crime syndicate known as the Camorra . He is thought of as a hero and whistle blower against mafia and political corruption. To him though, this type of honor belongs to people like Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino who gave their lives fighting the Sicilian Mafia, Cosa Nostra.

Fabio - Vado via perché preferisco i paesi dove ci si può annoiare
Fabio - I go away because I prefer the countries where we can be bored. **In this he means where nothing is happening, where things are tranquil, something that Italy isn't.

Roberto - Resto qui perché non ho proprietà ad Antigua
Roberto – I stay here because I don’t have property in Antigua **this is a jab at Berlusconi's holdings on the island which include a mansion and six other homes purportedly purchased and set aside for for his friends and family. Antigua is best known for its fraud, money laundering, corruption, land expropriation and arms smuggling, not its pristine and sandy white beaches.

Fabio - Resto qui perché non voglio andare a Antigua
Fabio I stay here because I don’t want to go to Antigua **and hand out with thugs.

Roberto - Vado via perché voglio dimenticare tutto quello che ho visto
Roberto – I go away because I want to forget everything that I have seen.

Fabio - Resto qui perché voglio sentire le canzoni in italiano
Fabio – I stay here because I want to hear music in Italian. **interesting because in Italian, they use "sentire" which means “to feel” when speaking of music, where as "ascoltare" means , “to listen carefully”.

Roberto - Resto qui per scoprire chi è stato
Roberto – I stay here to uncover the guilty ones.

Fabio -Vado via perché mi sa che va via anche Cassano
Fabio – I go away because I know also Cassano has gone. ** Antonio Cassano is an Italian soccer player who left Rome’s team to play in Spain and only recently returned to play in Italy again. Cassano is an absolute genius soccer player but an extremely difficult guy to manage in an organization (behaviorally, he was raised orphan and on the street, soccer saved him from a life of criminality to be sure). Fabio is a supporter of Sampdoria, the team of Genova where Cassano grew up and then returned to after many years of wandering in other teams. He is a hero for the Genovese.

Roberto - Vado via perché non voglio più chiedermi cosa c'è sotto
Roberto – I go away because I don’t want to ask what is behind all this **the mafia, government corruption, lies and extortion.

Fabio - Vado via perché questo è il paese che ha inventato il “me ne frego”
Fabio – I go away because this is the country that invented the phrase “I don't give a damn” which is a motto of Italian Fascism first used my Mussolini, as an answer to any opposing question or moral concern about his actions.

Roberto - Resto qui per vedere lo Stato conquistare il Sud
Roberto – I stay here because I want to see the State conquer the South ** ‘Stato here is not meant as Italy the country but rather its organization of citizens, its communityand moral law. He is trying to say he wants to see the control away from the Mafia and given back to the people.

Fabio - Resto qui per vedere il tricolore conquistare il Nord
Fabio – I stay here because I want to see the Italian flag conquer the North ** Referring to Padania, an area of Northern Italy in the valley of the River Po; but more increasingly basically all of proseperous Northern Italy. This area is controlled politically by the Northern League (Lega Nord), headed by Umberto Bossi. This separatist northern Italian political party has proposed that the North should secede from Italy and form their own country. By tricolor he means the unification of Italy's people as represented by her flag, as a whole and not as individual splintered groups.

Roberto - Vado via per sentirmi normale
Roberto – I go away because I want to feel normal.

Fabio - Vado via perché non voglio vivere dove comandano le mafia
Fabio –I go away because I don’t want to live (in a place) where mafias command. **he uses the plural to represent all mafia: camorra, ‘ndrangheta, nuova corona, etc.,

Roberto - Resto qui perché non voglio che le mafie continuino a comandare
Roberto – I stay here because I don’t want that these mafias to continue to command.

Fabio - Vado via perché non sopporto le feste patronali
Fabio – I go away because I hate patron saint festivals. **While sometimes beautiful, these festivals center on superstition, saving face, and appearances, not an real picture of Italy's day to day realities.

Roberto - Vado via perché qui si applaude ai funerali
Roberto – I go away because here we applaud at funerals. ** referring to the tradition in Italy of applauding when the casket passes as an expression of admiration. This is more common when the person isn't a family member but a respected or notorious individual or someone who dies tragically as a way to pay one's respect often when the group is too big to approach those in direct morning but as a show of solidarity. Sadly its usually only when the heroes are dead, as few support them before. The reference is to Falcone and Borsellino, who each had a lot of enemies while they were investigating mafia.

Fabio - Resto qui perché questa sera ho ascoltato Roberto Benigni
Fabio – I stay here because tonight I have heard Roberto Benigni ** Benigni was almost censured from performing on the opening night of Vieni Via Con Me, this new TV commentary, most likely because of hisvery strong anti-Burlesconi political stance. This boycott was framed by station heads at the government controlled TV network in financial terms, saying that the broadcasters didn’t have the money for his high salary. Benigni, then agreed to appear for free and with this their economic ruse was broken.

Roberto - Resto qui perché questa sera perchè mi hanno fatto un regalo Roberto Benigni e Claudio Abbado
Roberto – I stay here because tonight I have been given the gift of (hearing) Roberto Benigni and Claudio Abbado. **These were guests on the show. Abbado is Italy’s cherished conductor and has served as music director of the La Scala opera house in Milan, principal conductor of the London Symphony Orchestra, principal guest conductor of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, music director of the Vienna State Opera, and principal conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra (just to name a few).

Fabio - Resto qui perché mi hanno fatto un regalo bellissimo Angela Finocchiaro , Nichi Vendola, Daniele Silvestri e poi perchè voglio ammazzarmi di carboidrati
Fabio – I stay here because I have been given the beautiful gift of (hearing) Angela Finocchiaro, Nichi Vendola, Daniele Silvestri and then because I want to to commit suicide by eating carbohydrates. ** Angela Finocchiaro is an Italian actress famous for the film “The Beast Inside the Heart”. Nichi Vendola is an openly gay, left-leaning Italian politician and the president of Apulia region. He is a strong opponent of the Mafia and organised crime and is pushing for civil rights reforms and cleaning up the environment. Daniele Silvestri is an Italian songwriter from Rome. The reference to carbs is that most Italian food is carbohydrate based.

Roberto - Vado via perché preferisco mangiare peggio ma vivere meglio
Roberto – I go away because I prefer to eat worse but live better.

Fabio - Vado via perché il cinquantennale di Piazza Fontana non lo potrei sopportare
Fabio – I go away because I cannot stand the they way we will support the 50th anniversary of the Piazza Fontana Bombing . ** Meaning the same way we do now. On December 12, 1969 at 16:37 an attack occurred at the headquarters of Banca Nazionale dell'Agricoltura (National Agrarian Bank) in Piazza Fontana in Milan, Italy, killing 17 people and wounding 88 when a bomb that was planted exploded. The same afternoon, three more bombs were detonated in Rome and Milan, and another was found undetonated. While the attacks were attributed to left leaning anarchists there has always been very suspicious circumstances around the tragedy, at all levels of the investigation. Every year Italy memorializes the tragedy and loss of life yet completely disregards the fact that like with September 11th, it was used to justify more strict laws and to prevent the Communist party from reaching power all the while leaving doubts as to who was actually responsible. Think Iraq and weapons of mass destruction for a similar bell-ringing.

Roberto - Resto qui perché a dicembre ci sono le arance buone
Roberto – I stay here because in December the oranges are good. ** Italy’s citrus at Christmastime is world famous.

Fabio - Vado via perché può bastare
Fabio – I go away because it could be enough. **meaning maybe what he's accomplished is his life here could be enough (to be remembered for).

Roberto - Vado via perché mi è già bastato
Roberto – I go away because it has been enough. ** meaning he is tired of all this.

Fabio - Vado via perché a Milano cacciano i bambini Rom
Fabio – I go away because in Milan they kick out Rom children. **from schools, from hospitals, from their shanty housing.

Roberto - Vado via perché dev'essere bellissimo tornare qui da turista
Roberto – I go away because I think to would be beautiful to return as a tourist here.

Fabio - Vado via perché non voglio veder crollare altri pezzi di Pompei
Fabio – I go away because I don’t want to see the collapse of other pieces of Pompeii ** referring to the collapse of the House of the Gladiators at Pompeii for lack of adequate maintenance.

Roberto - Resto qui finché Mina non torna in tivù
Roberto – I stay here until Mina returns to television. ** A very very famous Italian singer , considered by some to be the best of all time. While she still records, she has disappeared from public life and its an expression to say I will stay until....kind of like in America "Until hell freezes over".

Fabio - Resto qui perché due figli non li sposti facilmente
Fabio – I stay here because its not easy to move my two children. **uproot them from their home, their schools, their city.

Roberto - Resto qui perché sono italiano
Roberto – I stay here because I am Italian.

Fabio - Vado via perché dobbiamo sgomberare il palco per il finale
Fabio – I go away because we need to clear the stage for the finale.

Roma Light and Dark

I adoped a vine...

Yes, I know, it seems nuts, but there is a method to my madness, you just have to drink a whole lot of wine to understand.

In the world of on-line dating

....I think I would be like this Koala.

Reported as being so feisty she once swatted at one suitor while turning a cold shoulder to another, Killarney seems to have a lot of my same social awkwardness when it comes to dating or meeting someone you like for the first time. In fact, she is so difficult to tame that her zookeepers have resorted to an internet dating site in the hopes of finding a Mr. Koala who will love her for all her strengths while still having enough room in his heart to overlook her I-haven't-had-enough-eucalyptus-leaves faults.

Maybe.....maybe...if her handlers are lucky, they will find her a mate who flips her switch enough to want to stay partnered for life.

Yet Australia is full of Koala's and its hard for Killarney to know which of her potential dates really will love her for her big nose and pear shaped body and which dudes only want to add another notch on their tree trunk. Heck, seems that some Marsupial males, like their human counterparts, seem only interested in collecting females for their harem.

In the end, Killarney isn't really looking for anything all that unreasonable or complicated. She's not the type to steal his stash of shoots, nor is she such a pushy broad that she would demand that he stay by her side 24/7, in fact she kinda prefers some quite time by herself to think higher Koalaian thoughts. But it would be nice for her to have a soft bear to snuggle with in the tree at night, someone to hold her paw when she's worried and that she can exchange ideas with. She's really just looking for a fella who will make her smile.

Funny, I never realized Koala females were my totem animal.

Because when it comes to menfolk in the 21st century, I am usually much better at knowing and understanding the rules of friendship than those that apply to dating.

An artist's approach....

What happens when you give a man a paintbrush and a worthy cause. This one is for all my artistic friends and all you hardworking gals trying to make a difference at FAO and Action Aid International.

The Surgeon

As warriors of love
Like small children with rolled up pant legs, We could compare our scrapes and scars.

Some deep and permanent,
others fresh
that we pick at absentmindedly.

"I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours!" I'd taunt.
Suggesting that perhaps we could suture frayed vessels with fine laughter instead of catgut.

I wonder, as a practiced surgeon,
scalpel in hand,
what you would think,
peering inside the bisected map of my world?

If I allowed you to open me from navel to chin.

Would you gaze like a thoughtful mechanic, working under the hood of an old roadster?

I can almost see you shaking your head
with brow knitted as you poked and prodded my wet and purple heart.
Noting with precision,
each crack and fissure.
Of the times I failed to perform the proper maintenance and allowed her to be broken.

And if I let you probe deeper,
would you thoughtfully untangle the wire, the bad sewing of my sincere and botched attempts to mend and gird.

And would you knowingly understand
that I had done the best I could, under the circumstances.

Just so that I could slip and fall and love again and again and again.

Maybe you could make me famous.
as the focus of some less than dry medical treatise:
having properly diagnosed the reason why my brain shuts off conveniently when my body needs to find its own solace or why what little faculty and reason I seem to possess conveniently escapes like butterflies through an open window each time that I have looked love in the eyes.

If you do, I will send you long letters of thanks smiling when you are published in JAMA.

So trustingly I let you trace this line with your thoughtful fingers tenderly touching upon the paths of my self inflicted bruising.

And as your tears splash upon my navel forming salty trails where once I sought your kisses I am not surprised that you let the shiny scalpel fall to the floor.

Knowing,
without making a single cut
knowing,
like the good doctor Luke
knowing,
that first one needs to heal oneself.

Repeating Themes

In the last weeks and months I have watched a subtle revival of thought developing in my steamy Roma. A repetition of themes, some old and time honored, others less so and its something that has finally driven me from my heat induced blog slumber in a way nothing else has been able to.

As summer approached, and with the precision of a Swiss Army watch or the ringing bells in the campanile above the church on my street, the Roman collective as in countless years past, has been inexplicably pulled, like bits of metal towards a giant magnet, to the subject of where everyone was going for their summer holidays.

Throughout the summer, the conversations weave and bob, but always surrounding this particular theme and a day doesn't pass where at least one of my Italian-born friends can be heard saying "Ufa!....the city is so hot...I cannot wait until I go [INSERT BEACH ISLAND RESORT OF YOUR PREFERENCE HERE] where I can finally relax and cool off."

Listening to them, I find it increasingly hard not to giggle. Because for the most part, most of us have already ceased to do much of anything in the 40 degree heat.

Damp and sweating, we look for whatever shade we can, eat gelato by the kilo and even die-hard red wine drinkers switch to whites. In an effort to stay cool, even the simplest of mundane tasks can seem like too much to drag us out of our collective heatwave induced coma. Hot, sticky, and miserable our brains are already in summer slug mode and there is little if any profoundly intellectual or challenging work going on at all.

Yet, as predictably as those "Christmas in Bla Bla Bla" movies released every December can be, the season's conversations flow along the same inevitable riverbanks. Year after sweaty year, sooner or later I receive the predictable follow-up question of where I too am going for the summer holidays.

Playfully and as usual, I mess with the status quo.

I watch with humor as certain acquantences all but twitch when I tell them that for as long as I have lived in Italy, I haven't seen the need to bask like so many lizards on a hot sandy beach with 2 million of my closest lizard friends.

And in defensive reflex, it is usually at this point where I receive their annual scolding,

"Aaah but you must slow down.....everyone needs to relax...have you considered going to the mountains instead?"

Yet, each year my responses earn me varying degrees of horrified looks, sometimes even total incomprehension when I explain to them that "Yes, surely they are correct, I should slow down and enjoy life more but not this year".

To shake things up a bit, this year I have told them that I plan to work extra hard this July and August so that can have the time in late October to follow the vendemmia and to work with friends during this year's crush.

Usually it is at this point in the conversation that most people who don't know me well, begin to think that I am certifiably fuori come un balcone.

But this isn't the repeating theme that I want to talk about today, nor is it what has brought me out of months of blogger hibernation on a steamy Saturday afternoon.

The breeze that is blowing is more sinister, and one that increasingly scares and disappoints me.

Fascism.

Always just under the surface, even in Rome's young neo-right youth who are too young to recall the atrocities committed in its name here in Italy, I am horrified to see it creeping out, loudly and boldly, outwardly accepted by so many seemingly normal people, Italian and foreigner alike.

Silvio Berlusconi and his xenophobic henchmen Interior Minister, Roberto Maroni, in the Northern League, have begun issuing a draconian series of measures aimed at illegal immigrants, beggars and gypsies -- all under the guise of that increasingly sinister word "security".

No different that the United States and its civil rights violating Homeland Security rules implemented in the name of stamping our the spread of terrorism, Italy has begun fingerprinting all Rom children.

Citing violent crimes, the rule has more to do with Romania's Rumeni (Romanians) and its place within the EU than the Rom people, who have lived in Italy since the 14th century.

Fuelled by yellow journalism and paranoia about security in general, the new rules have overtones that would make Benito Mussolini proud.

With Italian nationalism and xenophobia becoming more and more paranoid the politically powerful blame the country's painful recession on foreigners, seeing them as both rivals for jobs and scapegoats for the country's social ills despite there being statistically no connection whatsoever.

In a nation whose Fascist rulers once helped the Nazis deport Jews and gypsies during the Second World War, the fingerprinting is only one of many new measure being implimented to fight a phantom problem.

3,000 troops have been dispatched to guard railway stations and tourist spots. And judging by the responses I hear every day, the soldiers have won the hearts and minds of the commuting classes.

At a security screening at the last train stop on the way to Ostia, I watched with irritation, as soldiers asked for the documents of everyone in line who was a person of color. Redheaded and presumably Irish, I was allowed to pass, without being stopped for questioning, as every dark haired and dark skinned coconut salesman or tired umbrella seller was shaken down.

Why is this happening and if it isn't racially motivated, why were the Italians and presumed tourists excluded?

As frighteningly frustrating as witnessing this ethnic hatred was, I was shocked further in retelling the tale when the American expat I was speaking with stated that he believed that the stops were necessary. An American!!!!! How does amnesia of this kind set in and didn't we have our own civil rights movement outlawing this type of discrimination 50 years ago?????

With my mouth open...I remind anyone who reads this blog to remember this poem.

Original
Als die Nazis die Kommunisten holten,
habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Kommunist.

Als sie die Sozialdemokraten einsperrten,
habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Sozialdemokrat.

Als sie die Gewerkschafter holten,
habe ich nicht protestiert;
ich war ja kein Gewerkschafter.

Als sie die Juden holten,
habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Jude.

Als sie mich holten,
gab es keinen mehr, der protestieren konnte.
When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I wasn't a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

"First they came…" is a poem attributed to Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984) about the inactivity of German intellectuals following the Nazi rise to power and the purging of their chosen targets, group after group. An early supporter of Hitler, by 1934 Niemöller had come to oppose the Nazis, and it was largely his high connections to influential and wealthy businessmen that saved him until 1937 wen he was eventually imprisoned at the Dachau concentration camp.