SEVENTY-NINTH
DAY
DECEMBER
SHOWERS
December
1-2-3
Last
night Kimberly told me to be sure and put a lock on the back tire of the
motorino, but somehow we got lost in our evening. When I went to get on the bike
in the morning, the ignition had been tampered with. Someone who noticed that it had no protection
took the ignition cap off and was trying to steal the bike. There is almost nothing that makes me madder
then crimes against property. Thievery
is bad, but forgetting to super lock the scooter in Italy is stupid. My motorino is a Honda 125, which is the
biggest size that can be ridden here without a license. In addition, a new
European Community law says that in order to ride with more than one person you
must have at least a 125cc bike. So,
these new and well performing machines are the rage in Rome. I think it is lucky that I escaped with so
little damage and at the same time it is so irritating to have made the
mistake. It won’t happen again. I was so pissed off that on Thursday night I
had Kimberly write me a note in Italian that said, “If you touch this motorino
again the Mafia will find you.” My
original concept was something more like, “If I catch you touching my motorino,
I will kill you.” Kim said no and then I
tried to get, “If I catch you again, I will cut your balls off.” The Mafia thing was my third choice. I am now locking both wheels and hoping for
the best. At least putting the note on
the macchina made me feel better.
It is the
end of the semester for the American students in Rome. Many are going home for Christmas. Temple University of Philadelphia has a big
program here where I taught my papermaking class with my pal the printer, Mario
Telari. Mario invited me to the student
show and many of his students had asked if I was coming. My inflated ego made it impossible to
refuse. I cruised out the Lungotevere
that borders the Tiber on my newly damaged goods and was greeted by many of the
kids who had taken my class. They wanted
to show me their work and were enthusiastic and proud. The work was not terribly promising but
spirits were high and youth was abundant.
I am glad I went. Education and
art, the great collaboration, making art the driver that makes me feel really
good. I have been invited by Mario and
the Dean to make another appearance next semester. What a kick.
I finally
found the right gym in my new part of town.
It is a short 5-minute walk from the apartment, which makes it much
closer than the place near the Academy.
It is clean and much more spacious with just enough equipment that is
useful for me. The best part of the gym
is the shower. We have suffered from low
pressure both at the Academy and the apartment but finally, a first class hot
and powerful shower. What a
blessing. Oh, I forgot one thing, the
soap. In Amerika, we have soap in the
shower but no, another thing to learn, bring your own soap. Still a win all the way around.
Somehow,
we get out of the apartment for dinner sort of late, 9:30PM. They say Italians eat late but this is even
late for them. We walk to an
unrecommended place that looks good.
Once inside we realize that there are very few people in a very big
space. Not only that, but the restaurant
looks like a pizza place in the Chicago suburbs with hanging Chianti bottles,
candles on the tables with dripping wax, grotto style brick walls and very
kitschy lighting. Well, after a
wonderful Italian style Pizza and a not bad house red I was ready to recant,
Chicago would like to be like Italy. I
don’t remember the name of the restaurant but won’t forget where it is.
Friday
dawns with the threat of more rain. We are now rain troupers and we don’t
care. I lie. Nevertheless, we have ten people coming for
dinner, a daunting task in our miniature kitchen. We go shopping; it takes forever. When you go to a store here you must do some
sort of talking to the keepers. Hi, how
are you, how are the kids, da da da, whatever.
Each customer is a separate container filled with information that the
shopkeeper must have. It elongates the
transaction. No matter, it is friendly
and open. It makes me nervous during my
turn because there are usually people waiting to make their purchases. Kim would rather shop in the supermarket
during rush hour because the waiting customers rattle her use of Italian, but I
am sticking with the Italian way even if it makes me crazy waiting. The food from the small shops is very fresh
and somehow tastes better.
We are
expecting guests for the weekend, Jay and Rene from both the Bay Area and Bali
and our friends from Sonoma, Bob and Donald.
Bob and Donald are residents of Lucca for about the same period of time
that we are in Italy. A real winter has
arrived in Lucca, a rich old market town about an hour West of Florence. We will visit them in Lucca for Christmas and
will love to be with them and others friends from Sonoma. In Rome, they are staying in a lovely new
hotel about 5 minutes from our house. I joined them for a drink pre dinner and
would recommend this hotel for both location and style. It is called Albergo 47 and is on Via Teatro
Marcello near the Tiber. Rene and Jay
are making their way around Europe and arrive just in time for our party from
skiing in the French Alps. They have
come on the Eurostar train, which bears no resemblance to our Amtrak. It is faster, cleaner, on time and new. I guess that would make it different. The tickets are not cheap but it is a crisp
neat way to get around Europe. Airfares
are surprisingly inexpensive but getting to the take-off point takes time and
effort. I think I will take trains while
on this continent.
Our
little palazzo is ready, food is cooked and guests arrive. From the Academy we have Patrick and Manuela
(he’s a Fellow in Italian studies and she’s an architect) a couple that have
come to Rome from San Francisco and from the hood we have our friends who
showed us around, Dena and Mark.
Everybody is in a good mood, wine is flowing and the energy is high. Our meal of Chicken Kimberly, Pasta and Salad
works and our debut is a success.
On
Saturday morning, we have arranged to meet the Nancy D tour group at the
Palazzo Madama, which is the Italian Senate building, a most beautiful palace
situated between the Pantheon and Piazza Navona. Bob and Donald arrive at the apartment and
along with Jay and Rene, we set out on foot to march to the Senate. We are to be on hand before 10AM as one
Saturday per month is the only day this Medici wonderment is open to the
public. I am told by almost every expat
who ever trod this planet that small things keep occurring no matter how many
years you travel and how many places you go.
In this case it could not be truer.
By the time we reach Largo Argentina it is raining heavily. Jay stops to buy an umbrella and I think he
has completed his transaction so I keep on trudging in the rain at a faster
than normal clip. We turn left at
Vittorio Emanuelle, the rain steadily increases until it is pouring and Rene
discovers that Jay is not with us. She
races back to Argentina but does not find him. The group goes on toward the
Senate and our meeting time and I go back to get my pal. In the downpour I do not find him and after a
few minutes I double back toward the Senate building and the group. When I get there the line of people waiting
is backed up for a block. We are not
worried about Jay; he is a veteran traveler and will end up at our apartment
later. We find out hours later that he has
spent the morning hunting for organs in churches all over Central Rome. But back to the Senate. Suddenly out of
nowhere several Roman woman guides accost our guide, Nancy, to start shouting
about how our group cut the line and did not in their words “respect the
queue”. The confrontation is not only annoying and loud but also untrue and
embarrassing. I was probably not going
on the tour anyway as it was in Italian, but Bob and Donald who finding it too
irritating decide to defect with me and continue our hunt for Jay. I was
surprised at the vehemence of the guide’s argument and the strident quality of
the exchange. It was unpleasant and felt
more then vaguely anti-American. The
United States government is not very popular in Europe, but particularly in
Italy the populace is strongly against the war in Iraq, which has been supported
by the ever-lovable Berlusconi party.
The entire scandal of the US CIA and the moving of detainees through
Europe has consumed a veritable forest of newsprint. The CIA also took some big Muslim Cleric off
the street in Milan and flew him to America.
The Italian government, which must have approved this operation, has
filed for the extradition of the 22 agents from the CIA responsible for this
action. It is a sordid chapter.
In the
meantime, what was a hard rain turns into a downpour and a quick walk through
the cheap souvenir stands that are a holiday tradition in Piazza Navona is more
then enough for my little band. We try
to stave off the rain with a coffee in the piazza at St Eustacio. Still no Jay,
but we decide that we are wet enough and head home to dry off.
Jay, who
has made his appearance in the early afternoon, tells the story of trying to
buy an umbrella and struggling with a street vendor who was trying to rip off
his change. Jay is an expert in
computing and thinks he can get us on the Internet from our apartment. We struggle with it and finally voila, he
gets us on his network. It is a pain and
we must subscribe. We will try to get an
AOL update on Monday from our Internet café, but failing that I will finally
give up my in-house Internet dream. You
can’t win them all.
Our small
band out-of-towners trots off to one of our favorites, Costanza, for an
outstanding Italian meal. The waiters
are not fussy at Costanza and they never remember who ordered what dishes. The food is very good and outweighs their
interest in selling us their tired appetizers of Fried Artichoke, Salt Cod and
Squash Flowers deep-fried.
It seems
to me that we have been very busy.
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