Category Archives: living in Italy

Italian Complaints

Since I began commuting regularly to Milan, it has been brought forcibly to my attention how much of Italian productivity is lost to strikes. I haven’t kept count, but it seems as if there has been something to prevent me from getting to the office about twice every month. Tuesday, Milan’s local transit system struck from 8:45 am to 12:45 pm. I could have reached Milan by train as usual, but then would have had to walk from Stazione Centrale to the office. It’s only a couple of kilometers, no big deal, but would have been much further for my colleagues whose trains arrive at the Porta Garibaldi station, and taxis are expensive in Milan. (In any case, I had to stay home in case the hospital suddenly called about that MRI we’ve been trying to schedule for my mother-in-law.)

Wednesday, the railway manovratori (maneuverers?) were on strike at Milano Centrale, so, to be safe, I took a train into Porta Garibaldi instead (coming from Lecco, I have this choice). It’s a slower train, so I had to get up earlier to arrive about the same time.

Last week there was a train strike from 9 pm to the next 9 pm, on a working day. In these situations there are “guaranteed” trains running during the rush hours, but I don’t trust this: somehow the disagi (inconveniences) manage to start well before and end well after the official strike schedule. Once last year, I went to the station at 5 pm, four hours before the strike was supposed to start. The train I’d intended to catch was cancelled. Getting home became a long, sweaty odyssey whose details are now mercifully dim, but it took over two hours to complete what is normally a 40-minute trip – for reasons that were never explained, and in spite of the fact that the strike was officially called off around 5:30! My husband, also in Milan that day, saw the mess of late and cancelled trains at the station and decided to stay in town for dinner; he had an uneventful ride home much later that night.

I’ve so far managed to avoid all the airport and airline strikes, through no particular cleverness of my own except trying not to fly Alitalia. Italy’s national carrier has been striking so much over the last few years that I wonder that anyone ever books on them anymore. This propensity to strike and cause passengers enormous hassles surely is not good for business: unlike train commuters, airline passengers have choices.

(However, when it’s the airport personnel who strike, as they also frequently do, we’re all in the same lousy, sinking boat…)

Fortunately, I can do some of my work from home as effectively as from the office, as can most of my colleagues, so a day out of the office is not a day wasted. But for other types of work where physical presence is important, it would be instructive to count up how many working days are lost to people not themselves on strike.

School strikes were frequent when our daughter was young, and I remember grinding my teeth in frustration many a time. That was before telecommuting, and I needed to be at the office, but, if school is closed, someone’s got to take care of the kids – which, in a two-job family, means that someone has to sacrifice a workday. Not every Italian family has retired grandparents nearby who can pitch in for emergencies (we didn’t).

<sigh> I do know something about the history of unions and strikes in the US and I suppose a right to strike is necessary to prevent abuses by management. But I get the impression that many strikers are largely concerned – and expect us to sympathize – with a very narrow self-interest. At some point Italy must consider the costs to the rest of society and whether, in its current economic straits, the country can afford so much organized complaint.

Strikers at least do not cause trouble beyond the inconvenience caused by lack of their services. Protesters, on the other hand, go to great lengths to bring attention to their cause, and don’t care what innocent bystander gets caught up in it. A few years ago, dairy farmers upset by an EU fine for over-production of milk blocked the road to Milan’s Linate airport with trucks, tractors, and a symbolic cow. Airline passengers – who had nothing to do with milk quotas and no influence on EU decisions about them – were forced to walk five kilometers, carrying their luggage. Other protesters have blocked roads and railway lines, often to protest the imminent closing of a no-longer-viable local heavy industry factory, and subsequent loss of jobs. By blocking vital infrastructure, they cause further damage to their already faltering local economies, but that never seems to occur to anybody.

Now, with the Olympics, troublemakers have an opportunity to perform on the world stage. For some months now, residents of an Alpine valley in Piemonte have been protesting about the TAV (Treno Alta Velocita’ – high speed train) being built from Milan to Paris, passing through their valley (as well as other parts of the region). When completed, this will make it possible to commute from Milan to Torino in 40 minutes, and on to France.

This seems like a good way to improve links while reducing road congestion, but the locals whose territory the train will pass through are upset about it. It seems to be a NIMBY (not in my backyard) thing – they don’t want to suffer through years of construction, when they expect no direct benefits from the train line. The “greater good” is not a popular concept in Italy.

The No-TAV people have already tried to hijack the progress of the Olympic torch, and will make as much trouble as they can around an Olympics already marked by security paranoia. The government says that it’s even more worried about the No-Global tykes, who, having demonstrated their capacity for violence at other international events, have now (according to the government) usurped the No-TAV cause.

It’s not terribly clear to me what the No-Global movement stands for or against, except a general sense of “capitalism is bad for poor countries” and “people with money are inherently evil.” But the Olympics hardly seems the right venue for their complaints, being one of the few occasions in which people from underprivileged nations can compete on (more or less) equal terms with the wealthy, and even beat them.

Informing the Public

Mar 15, 2007

One of my long-standing complaints about Italian strikes is that, while we usually have plenty of warning that they are about to happen (indeed, the threat usually brings management to the bargaining table, so strikes are often called off at the last minute), it’s rarely made clear to the public what the strike is about.

I had vaguely noticed that Milan was due for a local transit strike tomorrow, but I was expecting to be home anyway, so was not bothered about this. However, entering the metro to go home this evening, I was pleasantly surprised to be given a flier by an off-duty staff member, a full page explaining what the strike is about.

The flier says that since January 1st, Milan’s municipal transport authority has been “corporatized” into a new company, ATM Servizi SpA – this is news to me. There’s a misspelling in this first line, turning the word Servizi (services) into Sevizi(mutilations). I’m guessing that was done on purpose, since the sheet goes on to say that the ATM will be split into eight new companies.

The rest of the sheet elucidates the workers’ fears that this privatization will be as disastrous as that of the UK railways, leading to worsening conditions and pay for workers, worse service to passengers, and reduced maintenance and safety. I don’t feel qualified to comment on this as yet, but I’m glad that, for once, I know why these folks are striking.

above: a very small anti-war protest in Milan

Would You Like an Encyclopedia with That?

In Italy, for reasons that I will go into some other time, most shops are closed on Sundays. You can go to a restaurant or bar, sometimes you can buy fresh bread in the morning, and there’s always one pharmacy open somewhere (though you may have to hunt for it). But, even if you’ve been working or going to school Monday through Saturday, you can’t do any shopping on Sunday.

This is a sin and a shame. Shopping is a basic human instinct; it is cruel to give people a day of leisure, and deny them the opportunity to spend money during that day.

It is my firm belief that the Italian newsstand (edicola) exists for this reason. “Newsstand?” you may be wondering. “What kind of shopping can you do at a newsstand?”

Magazines and newspapers, of course, but not only. Italians don’t read much (according to laments from the Italian publishing industry), so they cannot be enticed to buy much for the mere sake of words printed on paper. There has to be a “gift” as well, sometimes included in the cover price, sometimes at a “special discount” if you also buy the newspaper or magazine.

Often this gift is more print, preferably in large series to encourage you to keep buying. Books published this way have run the gamut from classics to encyclopedias to comics. In the last couple of years I’ve seen two or three different gorgeous series of art books, and several of cookbooks (first by ingredient, then by region). Now we seem to be moving on to religion, with a newly-advertised series of “the great religious books, lavishly illustrated.”

A popular enclosure nowadays is a DVD, cheap at 5 to 10 euros. The great thing for us foreigners is that, unlike their VHS predecessors, these include the original-language soundtrack as well as the dubbed Italian – and it used to be so hard to find films in English!

Films, too, run in series e.g., the complete Woody Allen. Themed film collections distributed in this way can mix and match from various film studios, so you can collect (starting now) every film ever made based on a comic book. This follows two different print series of comics published in the last two years. I bought some of those, to add to my already eclectic comic collection; it was a nice, cheap way to get acquainted with some artists unfamiliar to me.

Some publishing houses baldly cash in on the human instinct to collect, dispensing with newspapers and magazines altogether. Each year brings new sets of “collectibles,” in monthly editions. “Accurate reproductions” of timepieces, or toy cars, or kitchen utensils, each with an explanatory pamphlet (I guess they have to include some paper, to qualify these items to be sold at the edicola).

So Italians out on their passeggiata (a leisurely stroll after a heavy Sunday lunch) can satisfy their shopping instinct at the edicola. Maybe it’s all a government plot to get people to read?

More on European Football Violence

Listening to a conversation on the train, it appears that we missed the passing of the Olympic torch in Lecco this weekend. Oh, well. Even had we been paying attention, we were snowed in at home, and it would have been a difficult walk to get downtown to see it, let alone back up the hill.

The same gentleman on whom I’m eavesdropping went on to say that he might consider taking his sports-mad young son to a minor game of the (soccer) World Cup in Germany this summer – any game involving teams whose fans will be largely unable to attend. It’s a sad commentary on the state of soccer that ordinary people dare not go to games involving teams known to have dangerously violent fans. Soccer itself is a fairly safe game (compared, say, to American football), but being a soccer fan nowadays is blood sport.

Italian TV Politics: Censorship and Silliness

To be perfectly honest, I don’t understand much of what goes on in Italian politics, and try to ignore what I do understand, as simply too squalid to bear thinking about. Elections are coming up, and I don’t even know what to hope for. It’s probably a blessing that I don’t have to vote here as well as in the US: doubling the number of “lesser of evils” choices I have to make would lead to ulcers.

Italy’s in all kinds of messes, which none of its politicians, right or left, seem likely to resolve. The current rightish government, headed by Silvio Berlusconi’s “Forza Italia” party, was elected partly thanks to Berlusconi’s control of the media (Italy ranks 39th in the world in freedom of the press). He made lots of Bushian promises, especially about tax cuts and labor market reforms. The tax cuts were small and mostly benefited the rich; the Italian government, mired in debt and unable to collect all the taxes it’s owed, simply can’t afford deep cuts. A few tentative labor reforms have been made, introducing flexibility into the labor market, but unemployment is still huge, especially in Italy’s poor south, and the new jobs created are largely underpaid and insecure.

Berlusconi’s major legislative accomplishments have been in laws in which he has a direct, personal interest: those about bribing judges and tax officials, and corporate accounting fraud. Adroit changes in the statutes of limitations have kept Berlusconi himself, and some of his closest cronies, out of jail. (When elected, Berlusconi was under several indictments, a fact which did not endear him to his colleagues in European leadership, although the Italian electorate was obviously willing to overlook it.)

Berlusconi, through his company Mediaset, personally owns Italy’s three major non-state TV channels (he promised, if elected, to resolve his conflicts of interest by divesting, but this never happened). The three tax-supported state channels (RAI 1, 2, and 3) were traditionally parceled out among the three major political parties (Christian Democrats, Socialists, and Communists), but that system of patronage fell apart when the parties did (ten years ago, as a result of the “Clean Hands” corruption investigations). So now RAI is in the hands of whoever’s running the government – currently, Berlusconi. Can we spell “media monopoly”? How about “censorship”?

Yes, censorship. Berlusconi is using his media clout to ensure that people who make unkind remarks about him – even in jest – lose their jobs in television. In 2003, two of Italy’s most respected commentators, Enzo Biagi and Michele Santoro, were driven off the air (Santoro hosted a talk show), along with a harmless comedian named Lutazzi.

Two years later, an unlikely hero comes riding to the rescue of Italian freedom of speech: Adriano Celentano, an ageing rock star popularly known as il molleggiato (Mr. Springy) for the energy of his dancing (when young – there’s a sample in Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita”). RAI signed him to do a variety show called “Rockpolitik” – you can guess where that was headed.

A good deal of drama surrounded the preparations for the show, with del Noce, the head of RAI, trying to clamp down on the eccentric (but undoubtedly crowd-drawing) star, and Celentano noisily and successfully resisting any hint of control.

I had scarcely watched Italian television in years – lack of competition has made it even more wincingly awful than it used to be – but I ended up seeing the grand opening of Celentano’s extravaganza, because Nessuno.tv called that evening and asked if I would participate (via webcam) in an Internet transmission commentating on the show. I figured I should see how this worked, both the technology and the format.

So I hauled my laptop and webcam down to the family room and watched the show, with my mother-in-law, so now you have the benefit of my reactions. (Nessuno.tv never called, so they missed out on my pearls of wisdom!)

The producers spared no expense. The set was a huge, beautiful mishmash of the Brooklyn bridge and Manhattan skyline with bits of China thrown in. There was a 30-piece (at least) band, and countless singers and dancers. Of course the show opened with a song, I don’t remember much about it now, but liked it at the time, and thought “Celentano’s voice has held up pretty well.” Admittedly, it was a semi-rap style song without much melody, not difficult for any voice to handle. But I found out later that he’d played it safe by lip-synching.

Then Celentano did a long monologue listing items which he considered “rock” (cool) or “lento” (slow, as in music, and therefore uncool) – wired vs. tired, in American parlance. I didn’t understand many of the references, nor did I see the point. I read later that one of the “lento” items was a dig at del Noce, who had threatened to resign if Celentano didn’t behave himself: “Seriously threatening to resign is rock, just pretending to is lento.” (In the event, del Noce hasn’t resigned.)

Then we had French actor Gerard Depardieu reading a poem about the barbarians at the gates, in atrociously-accented Italian. After which he and Celentano stumbled through a conversation in which Depardieu apparently said that he himself was the barbarian. Well, he did play Obelix the Gaul in a couple of movies…

Arrived the much-anticipated moment in which Michele Santoro appeared and said dramatically: “I want my microphone back.” After his exile from Italian TV, he had been elected to the European parliament, a position which he had just resigned, with much fanfare, in order to return and be a guest on this show. Presumably he expects a new show of his own to follow. (His arrival was preceded by photos and quotes from Biagi and others, explaining why they wouldn’t be on Celentano’s show. One journalist wrote to say: “With events like this, we risk simply confusing the middle-class voter,” and, by the end of the evening, I agreed with her.)

An hour into the show, my nerves were sorely tried. I called Alessia at Nessuno.tv, begging to be allowed to go watch “Lost” on DVD with my family instead. “Oh, no, you must stay – we need an alternate viewpoint. Everyone here loves the show.” I gritted my teeth and hung on, but it just got worse. Celentano’s monologues wandered here and there, interspersed with singing. He did a nice job on “Be Bop a Lula” (lip-synched or not, I don’t know) with three dancers around him – to the right were two black women, to the left one white blonde. To my eye, the black women were more beautiful, but the blonde got all the close-ups.

Celentano said: “We have to search for something we have lost, I think we’ll find it in our past.” He wandered around the stage asking people: “What was the most beautiful period of your life?” The band conductor said: “Adolescence.” Santoro said: “Childhood, when I still had my mother.” Far be it from me to make fun of Sig. Santoro if he lost his mother tragically early, but my reaction to this was: “Piu’ Italiano di cosi’!” (“How Italian can you get!”)

This was followed by another long monologue/rant in which Celentano mourned lost icons of his own youth including shops with things in the windows. Huh? Either my Italian comprehension was not firing on all cylinders (I was tired), or he wasn’t doing a good job of describing exactly what he was reminiscing about – by this time he was clearly tired, too.

Somewhere along the way he sang a song that many Italians are nostalgic about (I like it, too), Azzurro. Which gave us all reason to weep – for the lost voice of his youth.

The brightest spot of the evening was a Genovese comic doing a song “Zapatero” (to the tune of the Gypsy Kings’ “Bamboleia”), mourning the fact that the Italian left doesn’t have anyone as charismatic as Spain’s Zapatero.

You may wonder why I should get so exercised about what was, in the end, just another extravagantly silly Italian variety show. Well, it irritates me that Celentano had fought for and won an opportunity to speak out on Italian television in a way that few others could get away with under the Berlusconi regime – and wasted much of it in what Italians call seghe mentali (mental masturbation). He had a unique chance to make a strong statement, but he drowned his own (very worthy) messages in fluff and waffle.

This being the case, Berlusconi & Co. could have sat quiet and let the whole thing dribble away. Instead, they made an unholy fuss, with Berlusconi muttering about “lists” of people he didn’t approve of. I’m surprised that the heads of such an effective political and media empire should be so clueless about PR. The ranting simply ensured an even larger audience for the next show (which I was sorry I missed – Roberto Benigni was a guest). Another two or three shows, then the whole thing was over. Now we’re into election season, and there’s some chance that Berlusconi & Co. will lose. Did Celentano have much to do with this? Hard to say, but it’s possible that the hopes and aspirations for his show weren’t wholly wasted.

Nerves: Bracing for Trouble at Italy’s Winter Olympics

Northern Italy is bracing itself for the winter Olympics. I am thankful they’re being held in Torino instead of Milano, but we’ll get some spillover traffic, and it seems that we already have extra security measures. Every day a pair of policemen walk down my morning train as soon as it leaves Lecco, scanning for unattended baggage. I think they get off at the next stop (Calolziocorte, five minutes away) and go straight back to Lecco, because I never see them again after that.

Milan’s central station has a very noticeable police presence, but that’s been true for years now. I was impressed to see at least a pair of them every day on the platform where my morning train pulls in, til I realized that they were actually there for the TGV (high-speed train) to Paris departing from the other side of the platform. I’ve seen them questioning north African-looking men from time to time, though so far I haven’t noticed anyone actually being arrested or prevented from travelling.

According to today’s news, Italy is at heightened risk of terrorist attacks for the next three months, due to the Olympics and then the elections. Recall that the bad guys killed 400 people on a train in Spain a few years ago, changing the outcome of the election held a few days later. The terrorists got what they were after: the new Spanish government withdrew its troops from Iraq.

Berlusconi was already making noises months ago about withdrawing Italian troops. Nothing wrong with that, but there’s no peacenik principle behind it: it’s sheer electioneering. We’re not hearing anything about that at the moment. Our prime minister has more important fish to fry: he’s trying desperately, before the end of the legislative session next week, to get one more law passed, something to do with appeals in court cases which, if passed, will help to keep himself out of jail.

He even went so far as to try to postpone the elections from the April 9th date that all parties had agreed on, “because of important unfinished legislative business,” but also, quite obviously, to have more time to bombard the public with himself via his stranglehold on the Italian media. “Par condicio” – the legal requirement that political parties get equal airtime – has become a hollow joke.

But the Italian public is not stupid, and people seem to be fed up with Berlusconi’s antics. The Italian presidency is largely ceremonial, but President Ciampi does have one ace up his sleeve: HE decides when to dissolve Parliament and call elections, usually in accordance with what the political parties request of him. Having already settled on April 9th, he has no intention of changing.

So, with any luck, Berlusconi’s bill will die in Parliament and Berlusconi’s party will lose the elections. With a great deal more luck, Berlusconi will finally get what he deserves. At this point, I’d settle for just not having him in government.

Claudia posts this response:

[I said]: “According to today’s news, Italy is at heightened risk of terrorist attacks for the next three months, due to the Olympics … ..snip… … a few days later. The terrorists got what they were after: the new Spanish government withdrew its troops from Iraq.”

Claudia replied: “You state this as if it were a given, but it’s not. One can argue (and I do) that the Madrid attack — which killed fewer than 200 people, by the way, not 400 — was planned months in advance, and the fact that it was carried out two days before the election is more a matter of chance than design.

The date, you recall, was March 11, 911 days after 9/11. The exact date of Spanish elections is decided fairly close to the actual day, so it would have taken a lot of last-minute planning by the terrorists to link the two so closely together. Since some of their bombs didn’t go off, one might suppose they weren’t cutting-edge organizers.

Plus, one can say, the terrorists might have expected an electoral backlash that would have gone AGAINST them, rather than “for” their interests. Plus some pundits say the left was going to win anyway. Plus, and most important, many respected surveys have shown that the reason voters voted as they did was because of the Aznar cover-up after the attack, not the attack itself. Don’t you remember, the government kept insisting the Basque terrorists were responsible, not El Qaeda?”


More Nerves

Feb 5, 2006

A few days ago, there was a Google ad on this page for a security company, whose web site says:

“The 2006 Olympic Games in Torino, Italy will be one of the most watched events in the world this winter. This historic event is also taking place during a time when Italy’s military alliance with the United States has become a source of much attention and concern.

Shortly after the Games, Italy’s national elections will occur. Many officials believe Italy will experience unusually high activism or worse, become the next European terrorist target. As a result, the security team at Vance believes that there are considerable security risks associated with the Games this year.”

Well, they would say so, but… that’s some rather gristly food for thought, nonetheless.

There was also an ad to Dale of Norway, supplying the official sweaters for the US Olympic team. Interesting that somebody didn’t insist on “buy American” for that, though Dale is the best…