Tag Archives: living in Italy

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?

La Transumanza: Moving the Herd for the Winter

I usually think we’re living in the suburbs, but every now and then something persuades me that we actually live in the country.

Today, it’s the transumanza – moving the herds from high summer pastures to lower altitudes for winter. I filmed this right out my studio window.

You can hear the herd dog, but not see him – he was in the truck behind.

…One Week Later

Commuting with Nature – Observations Along the Railway

It’s ironic that, having moved to a beautiful place more or less in the country, I now commute into the city for work. I’m usually out of the house 12 hours a day, and don’t get much time to enjoy the natural beauties that surround me at home.

But there’s still plenty of nature to observe from the train. The spaces alonside and between the tracks run riot with growth. Sometimes there’s enough ground near the tracks to contain tiny vegetable gardens; I’m told the land is leased for the purpose, though I’m not sure by whom, or how the gardeners reach these tiny plots, which are divided and protected by rickety wood and wire fences. One such area near Lecco is entirely fenced with rusting old metal bedframes.

Some of these garden plots are beautified with flowers. Earlier in the year great clumps of vari-colored irises bloomed; then it was roses, and now it’s hydrangeas, bursting with extravagant puffballs of blue, purple, or pink flowers.

The most prolific flowers are, of course, the weeds. A few months ago the tracks were lively with red poppies, now they froth with Queen Anne’s Lace, and something with yellow blooms on a tall spike.

Back at home, our own orto (vegetable garden) is surviving my neglect – I barely have time or energy to water it every evening. I have learned that four zucchini plants are too many, and you have to watch them carefully. The fruits hide under the huge spreading leaves where I don’t notice them until they have become monster-sized (at which point they’re not very tasty to eat). I harvested a zucchinona 60 cm long, weighing four kilos (ten pounds).

We enjoyed good fresh salad for a while, but I planted too much and didn’t harvest it viciously enough, so it all bolted (flowered) and became too tough to eat. I suggested digging it all up and replanting it, which Domenico has duly done, though he dourly predicts that it’s too late in the season – in the present heat, the plants will not root strongly enough to produce much.

The cucumbers have been good, though, again, four plants are too many – next year I will purchase more conservatively. We’ve just begun to enjoy our first tomatoes. The peppers don’t seem to be doing well, I’m not sure why. Domenico has also planted broccoli, which needs to start growing now in order to produce in fall/winter (good thing I asked him about that; I was imagining I could plant it later in the year, since it’s a winter crop).

Sadly, our land doesn’t seem very suited to strawberries – for all the plants I planted and carefully tended, I only ate about six strawberries. Maybe they’ll establish themselves and do better next year. The hazelnut and fig saplings that Domenico planted are also struggling. At least the roses are doing well – 11 plants in 8 different colors, including yellow roses for Texas. They’re still blooming, a few at a time, though they wilt immediately in the crushing heat. Next spring they’ll probably be spectacular.

ps. Revenge of the garden: I went out to water yesterday evening and got stung twice on the right arm by the same wasp. Hurt like hell, and my arm still aches today. But at least now we know I’m not allergic.

Commuting – Daily Train Travel in Italy

A few people wrote to commiserate over my long commute from Lecco to Milan and back. Most of the time, I actually don’t mind it. In the mornings I’m able to get some thinking done, and can work on my new office laptop. The evening commute is a good time to decompress between the stresses of the office and those awaiting me at home.

I have an iPod now, Ross’ hand-me-down since she used her Easter money from her nonna to buy herself a bigger and fancier one – 15 GB of music wasn’t enough for her. Given the problems with the old iPod, I was very reluctant for her to buy a new one, but the new one so far is working fine, and even the old one works more reliably using the USB 2 cable that came with the new one.

I saw somewhere online that someone wrote a university paper bemoaning the notion that iPods cause people to use music only as a soundtrack to whatever else they’re doing, thus debasing the music: if you can’t pay full attention to it, you aren’t appreciating it properly.

That may be true for some people, but that’s not how I use the iPod. I don’t usually listen to music while doing intellectual tasks, as I find it too distracting, and I rarely have time to sit around and just listen to the stereo in the taverna (den), so about the only time I could listen to music was in the car (not an ideal environment, our noisy old Fiat). With the iPod, I can sit on the train and watch the scenery go by, and really listen for the first time in years.

Music purists also bemoan the low quality of the MP3 compression format, but it’s good enough that, with the iPod “earbuds” stuck right into my head, I’m hearing nuances that I never noticed in years of listening to these same songs.

The iPod is also useful for drowning out everyone else on the train. Italians talk endlessly, loudly, and not necessarily just to people they know. Sometimes I overhear amusing things, but sometimes it just gets on my nerves. And the loudest voices are often the most grating ones, and the least worth hearing…

Jul 5, 2005

Maybe I spoke too soon when I said that commuting into Milan daily isn’t so bad. It’s summer now, when commuting can be absolute hell.

The trains I take in the morning are usually air-conditioned – not even necessary at that time of day. However, for some unfathomable reason, no matter what train I take in the afternoon/evening, the A/C is intermittent at best, and a closed-up metal train car quickly becomes a sauna. Most of the time trains are moving, so the logical solution would be to open the windows. Ah, but then we have to contend with the dreaded colpo d’aria. Many Italians are convinced that sitting in a draft can be fatal. So when the train is finally rocking along and a nice breeze is blowing in, someone is bound to close the window. Next time this happens, I think I’ll tell them: “You are at far less risk of dying from the colpo d’aria than from me killing you right this minute.”

During one trip last week, I was moving along the train when I saw a woman sitting on one of the fold-down seats in the train’s entryway, with a thoroughly miserable-looking child. These areas are closed off from the train compartments by doors, so when the outer doors are shut, they become airless little boxes. And there she sat, sweating. As I opened the door to go through to the next compartment, someone called to the woman to come and sit with them. All the windows were open and the compartment was delightfully cool. “Oh, no,” she responded. “As long as those windows are open, I’m not coming in there. Michele [the little boy] will be sick tomorrow.” More likely Michele fainted ten minutes later from heat prostration.