It's another suffocating day in Rome, temperature well in the 30s, with now a strong wind being so warm that makes one think of a immense hair drier and is more a cause of discomfort than of any relief.
Yet, its St. Peter and Paul's day, patrons of Rome, and that means it's a public Holiday for the city residents. It's strange to spend a midweek day in the city, but good at the same time and I'm currently enjoying myself, while I write this entry, with Jesus Christ Superstar (one of my favourite musicals, despite the dubious message it carries over. And must say, the entry sequence, in the warm desert (Avdat, in Israel), seems pretty fitting with what it's outside my window: except the trees' branches, nothing at all is moving.
Not much happened over the last days, and generally those have been long, warm and boring, enlightened only by the talks with Susanne over the net (praises to the Long Distance Relations gods for their almighty kindness in providing the LDR trinity: internet, webcams and low cost air companies).
Yesterday I had dinner with my german class during which there was a bit of a chance to know better the people I've been, quite comically I'm sure, trying to speak german over the last few weeks. As the dinner closed I took one of the girls home and then... for maybe the first time ever in my life, I hopelessly lost myself in Rome.
Finding myself in a zone in the north west of the city I have never been around, lost all my usual landmarks, among hills making the road long and windy and not really helping instinct navigation (which is the fundamental navigational way in any case on a scooter), I wandered aimlessly in the night for almost half a hour and at least 20 kms before finding myself back to a known spot. At least, it was a way to get a bit of fresh air (you have no idea of many green inhabited, country-like and therefore fresh zones there are within the highway circle that marks the boundaries of the city, and how extended they can be) and to see places I had never seen.. and in some case that I hope I shall not see ever again.
What else, what else. Oh, yes, the Italy-Germany struggles of the last days.
Three days ago some nice hunters executed the first free bear to ever put his foot in Germany for over 180 years (and we can understand why they don't anymore... who could blame them?).
The bear, should be said, was italian, of slovenian origin, coming from the part of Alps we are trying to repopulate. Why it couldn't had been shot with sleepng drugs, given it was evidently possible to hit him with a rifle, and brought back to the Alps remains a mistery to me.
As an act of atonement, the bavarians will stuff the animal and display it as a trophy next to the last german bear, stuffed as well, who ever walked the land.
Two days ago, one of the most popular german weekly magazine, Der Spiegel, published on its online edition an article ferociously racist against the italian men by some Achim Achilles. The article, which was first made lighter with an apologizing note after thousands of enraged emails of protest (included my own) and then removed altogether, taking origin from the not exactly exalting victory of the italian players over Asutralia in the Football World Championhip, summed up each and every negative stereotype about my people, in the typical and world renown lightness of the germans, reaching the point of labelling the whole male italian population as a parasitic life form, able only to go after girls, oil themselves at the beach and being fed by the mamas first and wives after.
Now, stereotype for stereotype, I must say that I understand the poor fellow. He is still traumatized by his teenage holyday vacation in Italy in the June of 1970 when, taking a walk along the waterline and having unwisely decided to bend down to raise the ever dropping sock used together with his leather sandals, standing up again he couldn't find anymore his mom, sister and girlfriend, snatched away (not quite against their will) by the afore mentioned parasites. That same evening Germany lost 4-3 (left)in the World Championships semifinals (and the defeat for 3-1 in the final twelve years - on teh right - late didn't help recovering the trauma faster).
And, I know, this last paragraph will cost m early once a given someone will manage to read this...
Yet, its St. Peter and Paul's day, patrons of Rome, and that means it's a public Holiday for the city residents. It's strange to spend a midweek day in the city, but good at the same time and I'm currently enjoying myself, while I write this entry, with Jesus Christ Superstar (one of my favourite musicals, despite the dubious message it carries over. And must say, the entry sequence, in the warm desert (Avdat, in Israel), seems pretty fitting with what it's outside my window: except the trees' branches, nothing at all is moving.Not much happened over the last days, and generally those have been long, warm and boring, enlightened only by the talks with Susanne over the net (praises to the Long Distance Relations gods for their almighty kindness in providing the LDR trinity: internet, webcams and low cost air companies).
Yesterday I had dinner with my german class during which there was a bit of a chance to know better the people I've been, quite comically I'm sure, trying to speak german over the last few weeks. As the dinner closed I took one of the girls home and then... for maybe the first time ever in my life, I hopelessly lost myself in Rome.
Finding myself in a zone in the north west of the city I have never been around, lost all my usual landmarks, among hills making the road long and windy and not really helping instinct navigation (which is the fundamental navigational way in any case on a scooter), I wandered aimlessly in the night for almost half a hour and at least 20 kms before finding myself back to a known spot. At least, it was a way to get a bit of fresh air (you have no idea of many green inhabited, country-like and therefore fresh zones there are within the highway circle that marks the boundaries of the city, and how extended they can be) and to see places I had never seen.. and in some case that I hope I shall not see ever again.What else, what else. Oh, yes, the Italy-Germany struggles of the last days.
Three days ago some nice hunters executed the first free bear to ever put his foot in Germany for over 180 years (and we can understand why they don't anymore... who could blame them?).The bear, should be said, was italian, of slovenian origin, coming from the part of Alps we are trying to repopulate. Why it couldn't had been shot with sleepng drugs, given it was evidently possible to hit him with a rifle, and brought back to the Alps remains a mistery to me.
As an act of atonement, the bavarians will stuff the animal and display it as a trophy next to the last german bear, stuffed as well, who ever walked the land.
Two days ago, one of the most popular german weekly magazine, Der Spiegel, published on its online edition an article ferociously racist against the italian men by some Achim Achilles. The article, which was first made lighter with an apologizing note after thousands of enraged emails of protest (included my own) and then removed altogether, taking origin from the not exactly exalting victory of the italian players over Asutralia in the Football World Championhip, summed up each and every negative stereotype about my people, in the typical and world renown lightness of the germans, reaching the point of labelling the whole male italian population as a parasitic life form, able only to go after girls, oil themselves at the beach and being fed by the mamas first and wives after.Now, stereotype for stereotype, I must say that I understand the poor fellow. He is still traumatized by his teenage holyday vacation in Italy in the June of 1970 when, taking a walk along the waterline and having unwisely decided to bend down to raise the ever dropping sock used together with his leather sandals, standing up again he couldn't find anymore his mom, sister and girlfriend, snatched away (not quite against their will) by the afore mentioned parasites. That same evening Germany lost 4-3 (left)in the World Championships semifinals (and the defeat for 3-1 in the final twelve years - on teh right - late didn't help recovering the trauma faster).And, I know, this last paragraph will cost m early once a given someone will manage to read this...
3 comments:
Don't be silly, you know he's damn right ;)
Getroffene Hunde bellen :-)))! Aber abgesehen davon: Italien hat gestern wirklich super gespielt!
That italian guy on the phone, I wonder what his name is.. He is hot! :)
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