As grey was the dust that was raised yesterday when even the most forgotten corners of the house were searched and uncovered. It's amazing how much corners an apartment where all the walls and furniture are strictly following the most straight geometry possibly, the 90 degrees angle, can have.
Anyway, today we start moving and by consequence yesterday was so busy that I didn't even have the time to write my daily entry. It's weird, now that the day has come, I realize that I definitely have never loved the place where I've lived in the past 25 years, but that some people I'm definitely going to miss, and even moe strange, most of them are those people I often don't even know the name of, but with whom I've exchanged a few lines almost daily.
For instance the man of the gas pump, who has roughly my age and who I've seen growing from a kid when at 16 I refilled my first scooter's tank, to, way too suddenly, a man when he's father, from whom he inherited the job, died 10 years ago, till now, when he's married and with three kids.
Or my family doctor, who has been next to us in the worst moments We've ever faced, when my grandma had her brain hemorrhage that ended her life years before her body decided to follow suit, or when my dad had his heart attack and triple bypass. Yes, I'm going to miss him and his reassuring approach a lot.
Or our apartment's neighbor with whom we established extremely good relations, and with whom I suspect we'll keep having visits, even thanks to the fact of having being sort of in-laws when our cats decided they liked each other so much to produce three wonderful kittens.
My barber is another, to whom I do not even need to tell anymore how I want my hair cut and with whom I have a relation based on glances and nods rather than on words, that are usually spent, in the most traditional barber-client link, to comment on the latest football game or on the casual passer-by in front of the shop's window, especially if it's a woman.
Leaving is a bit like to dying, we say in Italy, and never as in the last three days I've came to realize how much truth there is in such a statement. My dad made a note, in the family's name, bidding farewell to the building's residents now that the Costantini's family leaves after 44 years of having been, first with my grandparents and then with us, on of the most long standing presences there. I must admit, I was seriously moved.
On a merrier note, yesterday I managed, despite everything, to attend my German class and it was a blast. On one side, it's somewhat evident that I'm too advanced (if such a term can be used for my ridiculous knowledge of German) in respect to my classmates as the things I did learn 10 years ago slowly are coming back to my mind. On the other side, it's fun and artistic.
Artistic? Well, yes, sorta... we do get to sing a lot for instance and the interesting thing is, if I haven't mentioned it before, that among the pupils there are two (Korean) opera singers and a musician (italian and german are the most important languages for such professions). So, while one of the first classes we ended up murmuring a kind of rap supposed to make us remember forever things like "How's your name" and "where are you coming from", yesterday it was the time of a canon about the alphabet. To be said, it was immediately clear, when the korean singers opened their mouth, what is the difference before "singing" and "butchering some words along the notes", while our wednesday's teacher, Donatella, looked as having quite some fun playing the director...
And yes, if you think that sounds like kindergarten, it indeed is... but after all, a 5 years old kid probably could speak better than all of us together could ever manage at this stage.
And finally, this morning we got a call from the phone company... while the number was activated at the new house, the internet will require "a long time". Good lord, XXI century and Italy, the two most conflicting things ever. I really wonder when I will be able to connect again from my house... I bet Susanne will love the news.
Anyway, today we start moving and by consequence yesterday was so busy that I didn't even have the time to write my daily entry. It's weird, now that the day has come, I realize that I definitely have never loved the place where I've lived in the past 25 years, but that some people I'm definitely going to miss, and even moe strange, most of them are those people I often don't even know the name of, but with whom I've exchanged a few lines almost daily.
For instance the man of the gas pump, who has roughly my age and who I've seen growing from a kid when at 16 I refilled my first scooter's tank, to, way too suddenly, a man when he's father, from whom he inherited the job, died 10 years ago, till now, when he's married and with three kids.
Or my family doctor, who has been next to us in the worst moments We've ever faced, when my grandma had her brain hemorrhage that ended her life years before her body decided to follow suit, or when my dad had his heart attack and triple bypass. Yes, I'm going to miss him and his reassuring approach a lot.
Or our apartment's neighbor with whom we established extremely good relations, and with whom I suspect we'll keep having visits, even thanks to the fact of having being sort of in-laws when our cats decided they liked each other so much to produce three wonderful kittens.
My barber is another, to whom I do not even need to tell anymore how I want my hair cut and with whom I have a relation based on glances and nods rather than on words, that are usually spent, in the most traditional barber-client link, to comment on the latest football game or on the casual passer-by in front of the shop's window, especially if it's a woman.
Leaving is a bit like to dying, we say in Italy, and never as in the last three days I've came to realize how much truth there is in such a statement. My dad made a note, in the family's name, bidding farewell to the building's residents now that the Costantini's family leaves after 44 years of having been, first with my grandparents and then with us, on of the most long standing presences there. I must admit, I was seriously moved.
On a merrier note, yesterday I managed, despite everything, to attend my German class and it was a blast. On one side, it's somewhat evident that I'm too advanced (if such a term can be used for my ridiculous knowledge of German) in respect to my classmates as the things I did learn 10 years ago slowly are coming back to my mind. On the other side, it's fun and artistic.
Artistic? Well, yes, sorta... we do get to sing a lot for instance and the interesting thing is, if I haven't mentioned it before, that among the pupils there are two (Korean) opera singers and a musician (italian and german are the most important languages for such professions). So, while one of the first classes we ended up murmuring a kind of rap supposed to make us remember forever things like "How's your name" and "where are you coming from", yesterday it was the time of a canon about the alphabet. To be said, it was immediately clear, when the korean singers opened their mouth, what is the difference before "singing" and "butchering some words along the notes", while our wednesday's teacher, Donatella, looked as having quite some fun playing the director...
And yes, if you think that sounds like kindergarten, it indeed is... but after all, a 5 years old kid probably could speak better than all of us together could ever manage at this stage.
And finally, this morning we got a call from the phone company... while the number was activated at the new house, the internet will require "a long time". Good lord, XXI century and Italy, the two most conflicting things ever. I really wonder when I will be able to connect again from my house... I bet Susanne will love the news.
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