Immigration in USA and Italy

The population of Italy is about 2% immigrants. In large cities like Florence this figure jumps to 10%. I am this week in Los Angeles. In California, 43% of the population speak a language other than English at home. The percentage of immigrants who are fluent in English, however, is rising. I saw a performance of a children’s version of “Peter and the Wolf” at the Los Angeles Philharmonic. The auditorium was filled with elementary school children bussed to the event. Not over 20% of the children were Caucasian. Not all the others were necessarily recent immigrants. California has had, for example, a substantial Mexican population for generations. If I had gone to a performance in Fargo, North Dakota, the composition of the students would have been much different. Still this trip to California is a preview of the new American population of the 21st century. For the record, it does not bother me at all if Caucasians are a minority in the USA within a generation or two. I view the genius of the USA as its ability to reinvent itself from time to time.

Only Small Dogs In Carry Cages To Be Allowed On Trains

I question whether the train system will be able to enforce these new rules

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Veterinary certificate will also be required. Move in response to tick and flea infestations

MILAN – Get rid of the dogs and you get rid of the ticks. The reasoning is perhaps unsubtle but it reflects, more or less, the way Trenitalia, the Italian railways group, intends to tackle the problem of fleas and other insects in the carriages. From 1 October, it will no longer be possible to board a train with a large or medium-sized dog, defined as an animal weighing more than six kilograms. Smaller dogs and all other animals will have to travel in a carry cage.

There are other new developments. At the suggestion of the public health institute (ISS), all non-human passengers will be required to have a certificate from a veterinarian, issued no more than one month earlier, documenting the absence of “infestations or transmissible diseases”, although “small fish” are exempt. “Guide dogs for the blind will still be able to travel”, points out Trenitalia’s CEO, Vincenzo Soprano, who stresses that there are actually three anti-tick initiatives. “Regulating the transport of dogs is one and I would like to stress that the dogs themselves will not be required to have a ticket. Also in the pipeline are up-to-the-minute, quality-certified hot and cold disinfestation treatments, which will come into service on 1 October. We will also be using new contractors for cleaning services. The deadline for the first tenders is next Friday”.

Offenders will face a penalty of 100 euros, the same amount disinfecting a carriage would cost Trenitalia. But no fines will be issued until the end of October to passengers without a veterinarian’s certificate. “We have fallen into line with Spanish legislation. Spain is similar to Italy in many respects, starting with the climate”, says Mr Soprano. The Trenitalia CEO is well aware that the move will upset the owners of Italy’s seven million dogs. The six-kilogram limit will stop basset hounds, dalmatians, cocker spaniels and most mongrels from taking the train, to mention only some popular pets. Obese felines will also be affected and there are seven and a half million cats in Italy.

Animal rights groups were quick to react. “This hygiene mania is ridiculous. What are they going to do now? Will guards be checking that people’s nails and ears are clean?” complains parliamentarian Carla Rocchi, chair of the animal protection association ENPA. “Trenitalia can’t hope to eliminate ticks. If the cleaning services were decent, the problem wouldn’t even arise. We will be opposing this through our lawyers”. The anti-vivisection league (LAV) will be following suit. LAV chair Gianluca Felicetti says: “On 1 October, we’ll be boarding trains with medium-sized and big dogs. Let’s see if they can stop us”. Mr Felicetti rejects the “Spanish model”. “They should be taking as examples companies that function, like the British ones. Spain has absolutely nothing to teach us”.

In conclusion, he adds: “We’ll be appealing across the board. This move is very serious and goes against trends in the world’s other railways, as well as many local transport enterprises and shipping companies”.

The junior minister for health, Francesca Martini, attempted to mediate a few days ago. “If the railway company demands a certificate proving anti-parasite treatment, I expect veterinarians to collaborate to ensure that the certificate is issued free of charge”. The ADUC consumers’ association responded: “They should clean the carriages properly and fire the people who do the job badly before making these ridiculous statements about dogs and cats”.

Saving Alitalia

Italy’s national airline, Alitalia, is bankrupt. There are potential buyers but all demand the right to cut the company’s workforce and lower the employee’s high salaries (the reason for the bankruptcy). Naturally the unions for the workers oppose these changes. Every day there are headlines such as “Buyers to Withdraw Offer” or “Unions Refuse to Accept Final Offer.” The whole deal is always about to collapse. Of course all parties to the negotiations probably knew from the very start what the final agreement will be. But nobody can come to this final step until everyone has pretended to battle mightily. The “crisis,” as always, will be resolved at the very last minute. It surprises me how the Italian media can take this whole charade seriously.

Planes, Busses, and Trains USA and Italy

I’ve taken some Amtrak trains in USA this summer, and they have been quite good. Amtrak does not have really fast trains by European standards. I wanted to take a train from Los Angeles to San Francisco but the fastest train takes 4 hours longer than the express Greyhound bus. So I took the bus. On the way to San Francisco, the bus was late because it had mechanical problems before it reached LA. On the Way back to LA, the bus was late because we stopped to pick up the passengers from another Greyhound bus that had broken down. In short, the bus service leaves a little to be desired. There is no bargain airline company in the USA as cheap as Ryanair in Europe. Ryanair is strictly no frills, but in the USA the main carriers such as United, US Air, etc. are also no frills.

So on every dimension public transportation in Italy is superior to that in the USA.

This Week in Italy 291

Problems Funding the Arts in Italy

Italy has a huge artistic patrimony. Restoring it and maintaining it is a large public/private expense. Here is article from New York Times about this problem

September 4, 2008 Wanted: A Healthy Cash Infusion for Italy’s Starved Cultural Institutions By ELISABETTA POVOLEDO ROME —

On some days visitors to the Luigi Pigorini National Museum of Prehistory and Ethnography here may find its director in the front booth handing out entrance tickets. It’s not a meet-and-greet situation: The museum is chronically understaffed. In recent weeks museumgoers have tended to speed past the glass-encased artifacts from Oceania and Asia or skim Homo’s evolution to sapiens. They can’t afford to tarry. The Pigorini has no money for air-conditioning, and the Roman sun is merciless. “We barely have enough money to keep the lights on, or pay for a cleaning staff,” said Vito Lattanzi, director of educational services and of the Mediterranean collections at the museum, which is also a research institute. The custodial staff has been pared down to 11 from 30.

Ten years ago there were eight to a shift; now there are four, and in most cases two are volunteers. “We’re making a superhuman effort,” Mr. Lattanzi said. “We’re determined to keep the museum open, but the risk of a shutdown is there.” Repeated pleas for a cash infusion from the government have borne no fruit because so many museums are in similar straits. Arts institutions across Italy are reeling from a sweeping round of budget cuts adopted this summer by Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi’s four-month-old conservative government. More than $1.3 billion has been slashed from the culture ministry’s budget for the next three years. The cuts have affected hundreds of museums and archaeological sites that depend on state money, as well as opera houses, theaters, filmmakers, libraries, archives and conservators of monuments and artworks; they also threaten the lush countryside, which the Culture Ministry is expected to protect. “Kind visitors, this could be one of the last times you are allowed to visit a museum, an archaeological area, an archive and a library,” warns a petition that a labor union posted at state cultural sites after the cuts were announced in June.

For the new government, the petition asserts, “culture is not considered a capital resource but a problem.” Weak economic growth and stricter European Union limits on government budget deficits have forced member countries to reduce public arts financing. But critics here grumble of particular shortsightedness in Italy. While the nation touts its cultural heritage as an essential component of national economic growth, critics say the government fails to preserve this precious resource. (“It is our oil,” Sandro Bondi, the culture minister, told the Turin daily La Stampa this week.) Italy’s most recent operating budget allocated just 0.28 percent to the culture ministry. “Certainly there’s a lot of rhetoric about our cultural heritage, but when it comes to giving money to the ministry or to something else, politicians tend to choose the something else,” said Stefano De Caro, director general for archaeology at the culture ministry.

The financial pinch has revived a 15-year-old debate in Italy over whether private sponsors should be enlisted to remedy the shortfall. Critics point out that the state does not offer the private sector enough incentives to make that viable. Tax breaks for companies or individuals who help finance restorations, new museum wings, endowments or exhibitions are still in the embryonic stage here. “Private funding doesn’t happen because companies don’t get the same sort of benefits you get, say, in the United States when you invest in arts,” said Salvatore Settis, president of the top advisory board at the culture ministry and a persistent critic of the government’s policies on arts financing.

Tax evasion is so endemic in Italy that the government is loath to surrender a cent of what it can levy. “You can’t have fiscal incentives if you don’t fight tax evasion,” Mr. Settis said. And the arts don’t seem to hold the same allure as other diversions for Italian sponsors. This year, 73 percent of corporate donations in Italy went to sports, mostly soccer, according to the annual report of Federculture, an umbrella organization for Italian groups involved in cultural and leisure activities. “You get a better return on your image,” said Roberto Grossi, Federculture’s secretary general, who also cited concerts by big-name performers as a popular investment. “I don’t know how many companies would be willing to invest in archaeological sites.”

Mr. Bondi, the culture minister, who declined to be interviewed, has pledged to shake up Italy’s state arts institutions, bringing in new administrators to exploit the potential of their cultural treasures. (In recent weeks he has also enraged many by deriding works of contemporary art.) He has said he would also like to boost private-sector activity in arts institutions. It was only in 1993 that state museums began permitting private companies to run services like ticketing, bookstores and restaurants. “Given the state of the public debt, that’s the only alternative,” said Gianfranco Imperatori, secretary general of Civita, an organization that promotes cultural activities and manages integrated services at 60 state museums. Mr. Grossi of Federculture said that efficient management and services were ultimately essential to attracting tourists. “It’s no longer enough to have a great monument, or Capri, or a marble column to have cultural primacy and attract travelers,” he said. But he added that the state owns too many cultural institutions to properly maintain them. That means less visible sites tend to get short shrift.

“There are A-list and B-list monuments in Italy, and giving money to do something at the Colosseum is not like giving money to us,” said Mr. Lattanzi of the Pigorini. He spoke wistfully of a $97 million restoration of the Royal Museum of Central Africa that is underway in Brussels. “Now that’s what I call an investment,” he said.

Promoting an Italian Film for the American Market

I viewed the 2002 Italian film “Respiro.” The DVD cover described it as a film about a free spirited woman who lived among hard working but more serious folks who had problems with her joyous approach to life. A film to warm the hearts of viewers. In fact it is about a woman who suffers from a mental illness similar to manic/depressive. As a result she does poorly as a wife and mother even thought her husband loves her dearly. Her eccentric behavior is noted by town residents. Her husband wants to send her to Milan to see a specialist, but she runs away. Hardly a heart warming story, but I guess the “happy ending” is needed in the USA.

 Something Not So Good Migrating From Italy to the USA

One thing I dislike about politics in Italy is that political divisions carry over into social divisions of everyday life. People of the left don’t socialize with people of the right and vice versa. I have friends in the USA with whom I disagree on politics, but they are still very fine people whose friendship I enjoy. I engage in politics but I don’t become obsessive about my views because I always realize “hey, I may be wrong.” In the USA over last 20 years political divisions have become more sharp, and I see this same tendency to limit ones friends to those of a similar political persuasion. I simply find this sad.

Something Not So Good Migrating From the USA to Italy

I’ve mentioned that almost all unpleasant things about American culture find their way to Italy. The Miss Italy contest, unlike the Miss America competition, has remained quite simply a beauty contest. No toning down of the bathing portion because it is sexist. No contestants who rhapsodize on World Peace or play a classic concerto on their violin. Now I see that Miss Italy 2008 (from Sicily) was first in her class and wrote a thesis on Feminism. Italy’s pure, primitive, sexism being tainted by American values??

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A Letter from an American in Pisa

John Commito is a professor at Gettysburg College who takes his sabattical leaves, with his wife, at the University of Pisa. Here are some excerpts from his final letter from Pisa before returning to the USA on September 1. His qualities as a scientist as well as a sybarite come out clearly in his writings.

What we will miss the most For sure it’s the street life in Italy.

There is nothing like it in the US. Certainly not in the suburbs (b-o-o-o-o-r-i-n-g!), but not even in American cities, and I include New York here. Perhaps this has to do with the fact that the Italian violent crime rate is one-fifth the rate in America, the lowest in Europe, tied with that of the Norwegians, who eat dinner at 5:30pm and are asleep by 9:00pm. On a late night. Well, except for summer, when they are still at the beach at midnight. We walked out of our apartment night or day and within 10 seconds saw: crowds of people eating gelato, sipping caffé, and drinking vino; teen-agers making out on benches, behind bushes, under cars, wherever; street buskers – jugglers, musicians, dancers, you name it; and family groups, several generations together walking arm-in-arm, talking, talking, talking. It’s fabulous! Just fabulous!

Annie says she will miss riding her clunky old bike (a “Bianchi”) and, unlike in America, not sticking out like a sore thumb.

In the US, a 58-year-old woman in a dress riding a bike loaded with plastic bags? She’d be considered a homeless person. With gasoline at $10.00/gallon and parking spaces impossible to find, everybody rides bikes festooned with packages, briefcases, laptops, and babies to do shopping and get to work while talking on the cell phone, applying eye-make-up, singing songs, studying for exams, having sex, you name it.

Personally, I think the thing Annie will miss the most is the Bottega di Gelato in Piazza Garibaldi.

I ordered for her: “Un cono, due gusti, per favore, cioccolato e caffé.” Sometimes on a particularly wild night out on the town, “cioccolato e cocco.”

I’ll also miss church bells. The anonymous neighbor who plays the piano at odd times during the day. Italian films, especially outside in Giardino Scotto on a summer evening. The free Friday night concerts in June in the Piazza Garibaldi. The warmth and acceptance of friends we made. Hosting family, friends, and students from the US. Walking. A lot. Reading. A lot. Not owning a car, TV, or radio. Taking the train. The guy in Borgo Stretto who plays Vivaldi on his musical instrument made of water-filled wine bottles hanging by strings from a metal frame. The eastern European guy with long hair and high-waisted pants who sits patiently and without uttering a word at night on the Borgo Stretto benches while listening to his two buddies complain at great length about who knows what – the Silent Bob of Tuscany. The pierced and tattooed guy in dreadlocks on the Corso Italia who files the claws of his two recumbent, supine dogs with a fingernail file, ever so daintily.

Food

We’ll also miss the food, the way it is central to Italian life, and how it leads to all sorts of social and cultural connections. Here’s a good example. One warm, sunny day our department friend and co-author Ferruccio asked Annie and me if we wanted to have a quick lunch with him and his Spanish colleague, Marina (cool name for a marine biologist). Sure! We ate outside at a little roadside place and had cold platters of grilled eggplant, pickled artichokes, cuttlefish (related to squid), and two types of anchovies – small ones with red onions and large ones with lemon and parsley – all in olive oil. Unh-hunh – THAT’S what I’m talkin’ about! (Turns out that this establishment is run by squatters on university-owned land. The administration’s response? “Not my problem. Enjoy.”)

Then, in one of the accidental, ad hoc little moments that seem to pop up so often here, we walked a few yards to the famous (yet unknown to American “see-the-leaning-tower-and leave” tourists) basilica (San Piero a Grado) built on the spot where St. Peter arrived by boat when he visited Tuscany 2000 years ago. The shoreline has moved quite a bit westward since then. The church floor was excavated in several places to show the Roman (and earlier) buildings on top of which it was built. This church has a very unusual design (there may be only one more like it, in Sardinia) – both ends are curved, domed apses, and the entry is on one of the long sidewalls. Molto interessante! Deodato Orlandi did the frescoes. Of course, the “quick lunch” was not over yet. We drove two minutes to Marina di Pisa for coffee by the sea. Fun! And when we got back to the department, Ferruccio asked if we wanted to have DINNER with him and Marina, too! So at 8:30 (early, out of deference to our American eating habits) we went to a fabulous pizza place called – just like in the US! – “Bella Napoli,” complete with a huge painting of the Bay of Naples over the forno a legna. My GOD, the pizza was good! As soon as we had finished, in walked our department chair, Alberto, late as usual! We hung out and chatted over coffee. Alberto decided that we would all have dinner the NEXT night at his beach house a few miles away in Tirrenia! Then we all headed back into the centro storico. Annie and I spent a little time on the Ponte di Mezzo with, oh, I don’t know, maybe 3,000 people (just a few folks out at midnight on a Tuesday night) before going home. A wonderful day, none of it planned ahead of time, and all the result of an off-hand invitation to a “quick lunch.” And we DID eat at Alberto’s the next night, at his weekend house near the beach. Just 12 of us. Appetizers, two kinds of pasta, quiche, mixed salad, and meat. By meat I mean gigantic T-bone steaks, pork ribs, and two kinds of sausages. Cooked over an open fire of wood and pine cones. Not charcoal (Which most people use here. Remember actual charcoal?) Not charcoal briquets. Certainly not gas. Flaming, spitting, crackling piles of combustible material, shooting smoke and carcinogens everywhere! Yee-ha!!!! Many varieties of Tuscan wine. Beer. Whiskey. Italian and Spanish biscotti. And lots and lots of caffé espresso. All on less than a day’s notice (poor Stefania!). On a week night. Going to bed at 2:00am and going to work the next day? Certo! E normale! God, I miss this country!

Miss Pisa Contest

Early in the spring we were quite happy to watch the Pisa Moda fashion show sponsored by local clothing shops. It was held outside, just as it was seven years ago when our kids were visiting during our previous sabbatical. Lots of professional models in their underwear! Awesome! So imagine my surprise and delight when I found out that the Ninth Annual Miss Pisa Contest would be held two blocks from our apartment, also outside in the Piazza Garibaldi! Not only that, but Angela, Gigi, and Scott were visiting us at that time, so we ALL were able to attend this uplifting cultural extravaganza. We saw only the second evening of the competition. Sadly, we were out of town doing something “educational” and “cultural” the first night. It was a FABULOUS event, and Scott recorded much of it with his videocamera. This is why it was worth the wait for this particular son-in-law. Good work, Gigi! There were three MCs, in the Italian way of turning something simple into something complex, each with a clipboard, talking, talking, talking. As each young lady was introduced, the MC said something like this: “Elena is a medical student at the University of Pisa, her favorite actor is Brad Pitt, and she loves her mother’s lasagne al forno!!!!!” Then “Chiara is a law student at the University of Pisa, her favorite actor is George Clooney, and she loves her mother’s lasagne al forno!!!!!” They ALL loved their mothers’ lasagne al forno.

Scott’s pick to win was Anastasia, dark, brooding Anastasia, with more than a slight resemblance to Sarah Jessica Parker, yet not looking like a horse (Sex and the City is very popular here). She came in eighth. My favorite, the OBVIOUS first choice, was Laura, a tall, uncharacteristically pale (no skin cancer for HER!), blonde, straight-haired young lovely who was robbed, ROBBED, of the crown, coming in fifth. I think she came across as too coolly sophisticated for the judges. As the graduate student of a colleague once said about Italian women, “All aroma, no roast.”

Sizes of Things

Italians who have visited the US are astonished at what Starbucks calls a cup of coffee. To an Italian, even the smallest size is big enough to last for days. The same is true in the supermercato. For example, the largest milk and juice container is one liter (about one quart). Sugar comes only in 500g (1 lb) and 1kg (2 lb) boxes. The American small-sized tube of toothpaste is the jumbo size here. The standard unit of measure for meat and vegetables is the “etto,” 1/10th of a kg, or about ¼ of a pound. Eggs come in 3- or 6-packs. Beer is sold as single bottles or 2- or 3-packs. And, of course, gasoline is sold by the liter. At 1.6 euro per liter, that’s $10.00 per gallon. Perhaps the difference in packaging reflects the difference in our waistlines. And our cars. Here’s an odd fact. Butter always comes in a package that is folded over at the ends and held in place with little metal grommets. Odd. But cute.

Spiky and Curly Update

You may remember from my last message that Spiky and Curly are the two young ladies who lived across the vicolo from us. About 10 ft from us, in fact. One day towards the end of our stay, Annie bumped into Curly in the vicolo. It turned out that her real name is NOT Curly! It’s Alessia, and she is a PhD student in Middle Eastern studies. She routinely hung out her many, many, tiny, tiny thongs (too many to count) and her bikinis (four, at last count) to dry. How many of these items does a Middle Eastern scholar NEED? Spiky was gone all summer, collecting data on the Israelis and the Palestinians. No word yet on her latest bikini count. My guess is that she will return with a perfect suntan.

San Ranieri Festival

Pisa’s patron saint is San Ranieri. In the middle of June there are several evenings of festivities to honor him and the city. About 40,000 people turned out this year, in a city of 90,000 inhabitants. The windows and doorways of all the buildings along the Arno are outlined with many thousands of lights for this festival. No, not electric lights. Real candles, in clear jars, held in place in metal rings attached to white wooden frames lifted into place at the very last moment by men operating hydraulic bucket lifts. Every cherry picker in Tuscany must be hired out by Pisans on this night. And everything is taken down again the same evening. An awesome effort, for just a few short hours of beauty. Candles are also put on tiny rafts and floated down the Arno. Then there are fireworks at 11:00pm. And I mean FIREWORKS!!!! Totally rockin’!!!! And, of course, food stalls by the dozen. People, people everywhere. In their most eye-popping outfits. Mamma mia!

Medieval games are a big deal in Italy.

Think of the Paglia in Siena, for example. Pisa has two such contests, fought in full medieval regalia by “armies” representing each of the four quarters of the city. In the Gioco del Ponte, the teams take turns against each other in a tug-of-war-type contest across the main Arno bridge. The teams face away from each other and push backwards against a huge device that looks like a battering ram. Much grunting and sweating ensue. The victorious city quarter wins nothing but gloating rights for one year. One thousand years ago, Pisa repulsed a sea invasion by the Saracen hordes. Yes, the West was worried about Muslim terrorists then, too. A Pisano was able to snatch the Saracen flag from the top of the mast of their main ship, sending the enemy into disarray. They are still depressed about it, as recent world events demonstrate. But I digress. This victory is re-enacted every summer on the Arno. A barge is anchored in the river. Four cables lead up to the top of the mast, one from each corner of the deck. On the masthead there are three flags – blue, red, and white. After many long-winded speeches, four huge rowboats, one from each quarter of the city, set out upstream towards the barge. Each boat has about a dozen crewmen. When they get to the barge, a nimble gymnastic fellow leaps from the bow onto the barge, climbs hand-over-hand up one of the cables, and grabs a flag. The blue flag is the winner. Red is second place. White is third place. And the fourth place team gets a prize of two goslings. Then everybody goes home, happy they are Pisani, not Saracens.

Mail Service

When we first arrived, we got mail several times each week. Then one day, Annie said, “Hmmm…we haven’t had any mail from the US in several weeks.” It just stopped coming. It never started up again. Some of it was sent back to the States by the Italians. Some of it just disappeared, never to be seen again by sender or putative recipient. We didn’t worry about it. We COULD have tried to get the Italian Postal Service to find out what happened. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Men’s Hair Styles

We identified three common hairstyles for young men: Annie’s favorite by far is the “Stegasaurus,” worn by many teen-aged boys, usually the well-dressed trendy ones. Their hair is short on the sides and front, sometimes cut that length, but usually plastered down that way into a bangs-like swoop across the forehead. Sort of like the Beach Boys gone mad. Then a central swath of hair is messily gelled in chunks into a semi-upright position. Like the plates along the back of a Stegasaurus, only more irregular. The most common accompaniment is a pink Lacoste shirt with popped collar, white belt, and white sneakers. And a very dark suntan. The “baldy bean” is generally seen on men in their 20’s and 30’s. I think they do it as they begin to lose their hair naturally. They look like Nazi skinheads, but they are just normal guys. The “mushroom head” is quite common among male students with lots of curly hair. They wear a 6”-wide, fabric hairband around the head so that the hair bushes out over the top in an atomic mushroom cloud. Interesting. A variant is when a guy with dreadlocks bunches them all up and then wraps them in the wide hairband. Like snakes! Like Medusa!

Guests and Trips

In a frenzy of interconnected late spring activities, we hosted many guests and took a number of trips. I was invited by marine scientist Valerio Zupo to give a guest lecture in Napoli at the Stazione Zoologica Anton Dohrn, the oldest marine laboratory in the world. The very first one – imagine! Charles Darwin hung out there at Dohrn’s villa (now a field ecology lab) on the nearby island of Ischia. So I polished my research presentation, and Annie and I took the train to Napoli. We stopped in Roma on the way down and picked up Angela, who had just arrived from doing archaeology field work in Turkey. We stayed in a little pensione near the Stazione that night. It was on a street so narrow, the people who lived there set up chairs outside and watched TV inside. The next day, we toured the Stazione, which was quite an experience for me because it is so famous. I gave my talk – the crowd went WILD! – and then Valerio took us on a whirlwind tour of his beloved city of Napoli. It was HOT out! That didn’t stop Valerio! We walked (ran!) everywhere, and everywhere in Napoli is uphill. Whoo-eee! My family is from Avellino, outside Napoli, and I felt a strong connection to the people we saw. Many Italian-Americans are from Napoli and environs, the birthplace of pizza. And the famous, narrow street that cuts Napoli in half is called Spaccanapoli, “split Naples,” and the verb spaccare is certainly the origin of what we in Boston call “spucky” rolls, which are split to make cold-cut sandwiches. That’s my theory, and I’m sticking to it!

That evening we took the ferry across the Bay of Naples to Ischia, where Valerio lives. We stayed in a really nice hotel in the very pretty little coastal town. Valerio and is family hosted us for dinner at a restaurant with a patio overlooking the sea. The next day, we toured the field laboratory. Then in our free time, we did some sight-seeing. That night we had dinner at the Zupo house – a feast that started at 8:30pm and ended at – I am not making this up – 1:00am. Course after course of delicious food! We couldn’t believe it! We groaned our way back to the hotel. The next day we left Ischia and spent the night in the modern city of Pompei. Angela took us on a detailed tour of the Pompeii (with two i’s) the following day. A hot day. A VERY hot day! But s-o-o-o-o-o interesting! The next day we took the train back to Pisa. Gigi and Scott arrived. Robert, Ellen, and Sofia Commito arrived. The latter three left a few days later, and our friends the Brogans from Frederick arrived. When they departed, it was “just” the five of us in the apartment again – the hot, hot apartment! But it was fun!

Gigi and Scott stayed for two weeks. Angela left a few days later. We went on some lovely day-trips and lengthier visits to a variety of places, including Arezzo (home of the largest outdoor antiques market in all of Italy) and Le Cinque Terre (for several days of hiking and lounging around on the coast south of the Italian Riviera). Everyone (except me) hit the beach, thoroughly enjoying the whole Italian bagno experience. Gigi and Scott rented a car and went out into the countryside, discovering some beautiful places and some that were…um…not so beautiful. We had many lovely dinners together as a family, at home and in restaurants with friends. What a fun and busy time! After the kids were gone, the apartment was mighty quiet! We missed the tumult (who wouldn’t?), so we were happy when we got an e-mail a few days later from Stephanie and Jason, friends of Gigi and Scott staying in Pisa one night. We took them out to dinner and showed them a few sights. And sites.

 
Pier Paolo Pasolini
 
I included an article about him in This Week in Italy number 271 (March 1, 2008). He was a poet, filmmaker, novelist, theorist, public figure etc who died in the 1970s. I recently watched his film, “The Gospel According to Matthew.” The American DVD contains a colorized version of the black and white original (with dubbed English dialog) as well as the original film with English subtitles.
 
Although Pasolini made films that were condemned by the Catholic Church for their obscene or irreligious content, this film was actually praised by Church officials. It is a refreshing contrast to Hollywood biblical epics (even the pseudo-realistic “Passion of Christ” of Mel Gibson). It uses almost exclusively the language of the Bible. There are no handsome actors and beautiful actresses. The setting is Spartan. Christ does not look like a Sunday School painting of Him; he looks like the others around Him.
 
Italian Echoes on My Visit to the USA
 
Recently I was at a dinner party outside Boston at the home of lawyer Michael Greco, He recently was the President of the American Bar Association, the first Italian American to hold this prestigious post. He immigrated to the USA as a young boy from a small village in Calabria. Also a the party was a woman federal judge from Boston who will be coming in 2009 for a month to Prato (about 12 miles from Pistoia) where she will lead a seminar comparing criminal sentencing practices in various countries.

Something New in Tourism in USA

On a recent trip to Massachusetts I saw in Boston and on Cape Cod (and saw an advertisement for this also in New York City) a new kind of tourism, tours done in amphibious vehicles.  These are called duck tours.  One views the city both on the streets and also from the water.  I’ve not seen this in Italy.  Certainly there are places where such a kind of tour would also be appropriate in Italy, but the bureaucratic hurdles to something new like this would also be greater in Italy.  I’ll see if it comes to Italy.

 
Observations About Italy from Friends of Mine
 
The first Item below is from Robert Garot, an American professor of sociology who lives part of each year in Pistoia with his Italian wife. The second is from William Breen Murray, a retired professor of Sociology and Archaeology  from Mexico. He and I started kindergarten together in 1945 and went to grade school and high school with each other. From day 1 in school, Breen was always a better writer than I was.
 
 

From Bob Garot

Yesterday I walked through the city, into the park and the city fortress with my father-in-law, Raffaello and my son Tristan, who occasionally made a mad, ill-advised dash over gravel or stopped in the path, raising his arms for me to carry him, which I had to do as the hours progressed.
 
Raffaello showed me the cane bianco (white dog), on the street by the same name, which Vale and I have been looking for. It’s a raised sculpture on the wall of an obscure dark tunnel by a church. I asked what the story was, but he didn’t know. He said there were also a number of heads in the city. He related this to the street, “Abbia pazienza” (meaning, ‘be patient’). The reason for that name, which I had wondered about, was that many years ago, perhaps around 1400, they had decapitated the head of a man they thought was a traitor of the city, but later found he was innocent. Therefore they put his head in various spots as a reminder of their error, as a means to appease their guilt and assure it would never happen again. I pointed out the hanging bronze head, about ten meters up in the central square. Raf said that was one example, but there were others, better preserved. He showed me a head, elevated up about 4 meters, sculpted into the
wall at the outdoor shoe market.
 
His story offered an entirely different interpretation of the heads than the one I had heard from Valentina. When I told her her father’s story, she responded with a mischievous grin that the heads displaying the traitor of the city were a warning, not an expression of guilt. The street “Abbia pazienza” is an idiomatic expression, akin to “oh well,” “get over it,” or “don’t make a fuss.” ie, ‘We cut of the head of the traitor of the city even though we later found out he’s not really a traitor–it happens, so best to be careful!’ I told Vale I look forward to hearing how these different interpretations will surely be debated over our next dinner with her parents.
 
 
From Breen Murray

A Trip to Ireland and Italy (Italian Portions of the Journal)
 
 
In line with the current food obsession, I begin with culinary delights. Restaurants are a standard part of every tourist guide book because everyone has to eat. I never went to any really fancy restaurants in either country, so my judgment is based mainly on what might be called ‘standard fare’ in each place. By all accounts, Italy wins by a landslide; no one goes to Ireland for the cuisine….
 
 
For the average tourist visiting Italy, Valcamonica is not high on their must-see list. Most of them probably never heard of the place, but for those who study rock art, it is a place not to be missed. On my trip to Italy after the archaeological congress, it was my first stop and I must say it did not disappoint.
The Eurostar train took us from Turin to Milan and then Brescia, where we changed to a local train for Capo di Ponte, gradually ascending up the Camonica valley, passing vineyards and villas around Lago de Isola, until we reached our destination nestled among the high peaks of the Italian Alps. A fast mountain river divides the valley and the town of Capo di Ponte sits right in the middle beside the route of the modern train tracks and highway which lead further up the valley.

This same valley was a natural route over the Alpine chain for thousands of years. All up and down the valley, thousands of petroglyphs are carved on the exposed bedrock and glacial monoliths. Valcamonica is the largest concentration of Neolithic and Bronze Age rock art recorded so far in Europe, some 130,000 images and still counting. The earliest of these carvings are probably at least 6000 years old, while the latest ones include short texts in an unknown script made prior to the area’s conquest and assimilation into the Roman Empire. The largest concentration of these carvings is found in and around Capo di Ponte.
The town is a sight in itself, with narrow streets and brightly-painted houses clustered along the rushing stream. In each direction, the high Alps, with glacial snows clinging to their peaks, dominate the landscape, leading the eye to the myriad details of the rugged ice-sculptured terrain in the high country above. A 14th century church (now abandoned) overlooks the town on the west from its steep promontory. The rock art in that sector is reached literally by walking trails leading out of the town. On the opposite side of the valley, there is a paved road and parking lot at the Naquane National Park, but no tourist buses -not even cars- are necessary to get there. It’s just a good uphill walk with a panoramic view.

Valcamonican rock art was discovered quite by accident at the beginning of the twentieth century. It is practically the only prehistoric archaeological evidence which has survived the periodic glacial scouring of the Alpine landscape and stands almost alone as testimony to earlier times and condition.

 

Although some abstract motifs are present, the vast majority of the carvings represent the real world which surrounded the hunters and farmers who lived nearby. Schematic representations of these men and women, often in active poses, the houses in which they lived, the deer they hunted, and the weapons they used are among the most frequent motifs. The images include many recognizable activities of daily life, such as rituals and battle scenes. This narrative quality and the wealth of representational detail make the Valcamonican rock art immediately engaging. Its content is readily understandable to any visitor and needs little explanation. The petroglyphs give the feeling of revealing intimate details about a vanished prehistoric world and easily lead the visitor back in time. They stimulate the imagination.

Even so, the carvings are not always easy to see. They escaped detection (and are still being discovered) because many of them are carved on flat rock surfaces which were covered by forest detritus and lichen growth. They are ‘discovered’ only when this cover has been removed, but once exposed, these surfaces can be rapidly degraded by ordinary foot traffic and visitation. The petroglyphs must therefore be protected from direct physical contact by various types of constraints which were installed when the area was designated as a national park.

 

The Naquane National Park is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and its facilities indicate the standard of protection and preservation which this requires as well as the flexibility of these criteria in response to local conditions. The park has no barriers marking the its limits, but access roads direct all visitors to a center which provides information and orientation. The rock art’s irregular distribution over a rocky terrain makes trail access absolutely essential and visitors normally go from the center onto signed trails. For the largest and most complex panel at Naquane, a wooden catwalk has also been installed which raises the viewing angle and provides an absolute barrier for the visitor. This barrier is further marked by the tour guides who carefully remove their shoes and enter onto the carved surfaces only in stocking feet. The catwalk is plainly made for tourism, but its visual intrusiveness in the forest landscape is much reduced by its wooden construction. At the same time it provides an unobstructed view of the carvings much better for photography. People can pause and take time to see all the details of an extremely complex panel.

The various trail routes are traced to give maximum access to the carved rocks within the park’s confines. All of them are plainly visible from the marked trails, but they are usually worn down to low relief, so their relative visibility depends on the sunlight at different hours of the day. To facilitate identification, each of the carved rocks bears a number placed at a discrete distance from the actual carvings, keyed to a handout map with identifying descriptions. By readily identifying where they are, this system of painted numbers, which often turns out to be very intrusive, serves in this case to keep visitors from disturbing the surrounding area while searching for the carved rocks. It also provides greater visitor security in an unfamiliar landscape with some natural hazards.

The net result of these measures was that although graffiti are everywhere in Italy, I saw no graffiti at Naquane or any of the other petroglyph panels we visited around Capo di Ponte. I attribute this in part to the fact that the local community values and protects the carvings as part of their present-day surroundings.

Visiting the Valcamonica petroglyphs in the company of friends was a singular pleasure, an experience of discovery, a cultural surprise, and the real high spot in my entire Italian stay. During our second night in Capo di Ponte, it rained hard with thunder and lightning as a giant air mass collided in the dark against the imposing Alpine massif. In the morning the river was swollen and the fields were soggy as we found our way onto the trail to the Seradina sector just above town. There was still much more to explore and my big mistake was not staying longer. …..
 
On the other hand, Italy in mid-July is warm and pleasant and I hit the peak of the tourist season right on the head. This combination of heat and mass tourism provided some of the low points in my Italian stay, because (with the exception of Valcamonica) at every spot I went to, I was part of a horde which literally overwhelmed the places being visited. I saw Pompeii, the Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum and the remains of Classic Rome, St. Peter’s Basilica and the Sistine Chapel, and in each place there were so many people crowded into the space available that you couldn’t really see anything, much less feel any trace of their storied atmosphere. The low points were all long waits in line to join a crush of people following a predefined itinerary, quite often formed into groups led by guides (or chaperones) with colored flags who explained the sights in one or another language. At each stopping point, guided tours were the dominant form of visitation.

This kind of mass tourism derives originally from sight-seeing but carries it to a new level. It is different from merely taking a trip because it includes an additional ritual. Trips to faraway places occur for many different reasons- even just curiosity, but sight-seeing requires being seen at the site. You must therefore take a picture of yourself at the given place as unquestionable proof that you were really there. The picture is both documentation and a self-portrait repeated at each stage of a prescribed trajectory.

Nowadays, this ritual has been made easier by the use of digital cameras and electronic timers. It also takes on infinite forms with nuances, ranging from the photo of the sentimental lovers tossing their coin into the Trevi fountain to a guy dressed as a gladiador in front of the Colosseum posing with his sword ready to cut off the other guy’s balls. Some of the poses are group pictures, especially families and the classmates of student groups, but the pattern is usually more egocentric. Each person wants a picture of him/herself posed front and center with the respective sight as background. The Trevi fountain is of little or no interest. For every digital image of its flowing waters, there are ten shots of the guy’s wife standing in front of it. I even followed a man making his way through the Vatican Museum taking the same pose of his matronly wife in front of every painting and famous object in the museum – must have been a fascinating series!

 

The tourist mob scene reached critical levels in both Pompeii and Rome and it came to some kind of head on the day I visited the Vatican on the last day of my trip. I am neither Catholic nor Christian, but I have taught for over three decades at a Mexican Catholic university and I did have expectations that St. Peter’s Basilica would not be simply another stop on the sightseeing itinerary. I was more aware of the power of the place to inspire awe and reverence, the spiritual heart of the Church and the home of its Popes, but on my initial morning visit, this was not the case.

Even with church regulations which limited flash photography and establish dress standards in accordance with its sanctified status, the great Basilica has become the quintessential tourist attraction. I learned later that visitation to the Vatican reached 4.5 million last year. I don’t doubt the figure which averages to more than 12,000 daily. On the day we went, I’m sure there were more. The perimeter of the sacred space was clearly marked by security barriers which filtered each visitor and the permitted access space within these limits was also marked with great precision. Otherwise the entire building would be overrun in its peak hours of visitation. The tour guides recruited their groups in the long lines awaiting security clearance and proceeded in thick packs from point to point all morning. I came away thinking I had seen a live art class held on a subway platform.

This impression continued during our visit to the Vatican Museum in the afternoon, culminating in the Sistine Chapel, where the pedestrian traffic reached nearly total gridlock. A very priestly voice reminded the milling crowd through an amplifier to maintain silence in the chapel as a consecrated place, but this was to little avail. The murmur of hundreds of onlookers was constant and the need to look up at the ceiling to see its distant details paralyzed movement. With all due respect for Michelangelo, I ‘saw’ his brightly colored ceiling above –with its iconic scene of heaven touching earth- only during the time it took me to negotiate my way through the gawking crowd and escape from this pedestrian traffic jam. I think that if my experience of the Vatican had ended there, I would have promised myself never to return.

Instead, after escaping from the Sistine Chapel mob scene, my visit took a different turn. We returned to the Basilica to see the catacombs below the main altar with tombs of the Popes later in the afternoon, Although there were still people wandering around in the great nave, by that hour the tourist guides and the crowds had disappeared. Those who remained were more often worshippers rather than tourists.

For devout Catholics of all nations and Christians in general, St. Peter’s is also a pilgrimage site. Now as we passed, I saw that ten or fifteen people were praying in front of the tomb of John Paul II. I realized that my own university teaching career took place during his long reign and that the smiling image of the man who forgave his assassin sprang easily before my eyes. Although I was not a believer, I was part of the Church after all- testimony at least to its commitment to ecumenical tolerance. We went upstairs to the nave and passed the monumental statue of a saint (I have no idea which one) who promised happiness and long life, or something like that. The toe of the statue was worn smooth by centuries of seekers, and I joined the short line and rubbed it too just in case.

 

In front at the altar, it was the hour of the 5 o’clock mass, and I was quickly drawn toward the music and cadenced chanting of the liturgy. The pews before the altar were not crowded, but those who were there were not mere tourists taking in the sights. For any Roman Catholic, mass at St. Peter’s is an experience remembered for a lifetime and a confirmation and expression of faith. The congregation included people from all over the world, some of whom I had seen earlier, but now they gathered by their faith. The perimeter of the mass was still cordoned off and controlled by a guard. He was obviously authorized to keep out the wandering tourists, but not to keep the faithful from communion, so some people did go in, including my traveling companion Carlos.

As for me, I did not go in. The priest who officiated apparently was chosen for his good voice. I could see and hear everything from outside the cordoned area. This allowed me freedom of movement around the altar of St. Peter under the great Vatican dome and surrounded by all the stunning embellishments in its every corner while listening. I was transfixed by the image in the stained glass window over the main altar, a dove of peace, part of Bernini’s master design. It was a moving experience to see it illuminated from behind in all its glory by the light of the dying sun at the end of the mass. This was certainly a unique high point of this trip which I will always remember. It was well worth the price of the trip. I have no photos, so you’ll just have to take my word that I was really there and really saw it.