Che cosa stai dicendo, Willis? Part 2

First, for all of you who are joining the show late, I give you Part One of this apparently on-going saga. Please read before you go any further, in order to fully appreciate the Arnold-ness of this post.

Now, I realize that the only thing that qualifies this for my Rome-themed blog is the simple fact that I saw it in Rome. But that's OK by me. Just yesterday I saw a t-shirt for sale that said "My so-and-so went to Hawaii and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" for €4. Which goes to show: things don't always have to make perfect sense.

So, just for some random fun, look where Arnold turned up, in action mode, on Lungotevere:


Kung-Fu Arnold! And, for all you excellent mystery solvers (it's usually one of my readers who solves these great curiosities of mine): what's up with that weird pink graffiti next to Arnold? It looks strangely like the other one:

What does it all mean, folks?

Well, if you thought Arnold was a Rome-only phenomenon, you'd be wrong. I promise I don't spend my days wandering Italian cities looking for him. He just shows up. For example, when I was in Milan with Sara last weekend, poof! Walking around after breakfast, there he was:

This is a close-up of a small stencil on the side of a wall. There were also a couple others, but seeing as how one of them was additionally painted over with something that portrays Arnold in a rather compromising light, well, I'll leave that one to your imagination. As always, we try our best to be a PG-rated blog around here.

Ok, ok, I promise tomorrow I'll get back to the meat and potatoes of the blog. Or rather, the espresso slushies and the Pantheon, both of which I have waiting in the wings for you.

Is AYCE pasta the next step?

That's right. Take the DWARF'S CHALLENGE!

"Can you eat our Florentine steak (a.k.a. generally about 1.5-2 lbs.) in JUST 5 MINUTES??? Then YOU WON'T PAY!!!"

Well, I suppose you won't pay monetarily speaking. Gastronomically speaking is anyone's guess.

Oh, man.

Yes, I'll admit, I laughed out loud before whipping out my ever-present camera, but frankly, seeing something like this in Rome makes me just a little queasy. Whatever happened to the Slow Food movement? I'm now having flashbacks of huge billboards on Interstate 40 (former Route 66) from the Big Texan Steak Ranch. And I quote:

The FREE 72oz. STEAK dinner is still flourishing at the Big Texan. More than 40,000 people have attempted to consume the Free 72oz. Steak dinner since 1960. About 7,000 have succeeded. People from all over the world continue to visit us to take the challenge and claim the bragging rights.

Just in case you can't visualize in ounces, that's four and a half juicy pounds, or about 2 kilos. But at least at the BTS you get a whole hour to consume your steak...

Some Observations

How's THAT for a boring title? Oh well. Here's what's on the minds of those in the know around these parts...

1) Soccer superstar (plays for Rome) Francesco Totti and his wife Ilary Blasi welcomed their second child this week. The bambina's name? Chanel Totti. That's right, I said CHANEL. A brand-name baby. What will they think of next? Gucci Totti? Armani Totti? Prada Totti? Their family could easily turn into an entire cat-walking team. Needless to say, the Romans are snickering about the ridiculously tacky turn. However, I've got one thing to say for the Tottis. They are a perfect example of what I would call shameless tackiness. It's like they take pride in it. No embarrassment here, folks. When they were getting married, they posted their wedding registry online so any devoted fans who felt like it could buy them gifts. And I'm thinking, see, why didn't I ask for one of these doo-dads instead of putting just the honeymoon on the registry? Doh! But, see what I'm saying? Pride in tackiness, people. Tacky. It's the new cool.

2) Some women can't reign in their spending when it comes to shoes and clothing, and here in Rome that's an easy thing to go overboard on. But no. For me, it's a big, nerdy inability to resist when it comes to reading material. Today I caved in and bought The New Yorker, recklessly not even inquiring as to the price (which was only listed on the cover as "Foreign: $5.99" -- not helpful). Set me back €9. That's like what, just over $12 USD? Man. I'll have to read one page a day to make it last.

3) I read in the May 11 edition of the commuter paper Metro that there has been a sharp increase in dog and cat abandonment here in Lazio, the state where Rome is located. I am always horrified by this. It happens before every vacation season: people abandon their animals because they go away. Estimates are between 50,000-100,000 abandoned dogs and 300,000 abandoned cats in Rome alone. Four years ago we adopted two abandoned cats at Largo Argentina shelter (the only shelter in the world located where Julius Caesar was assassinated). They are run entirely by volunteers and receive absolutely no support, monetary or otherwise, from the city. When the cats are abandoned to the shelter (lots of people just drop them off there), the staff covers costs to have them vaccinated and spayed or neutered by a wonderful, wonderful veterinarian named Stefano Baldi. If you need a vet in Rome, he is a saint. (via Cisterna 15, Tel. 065896650) You can help the Roman cats by adopting one at a distance or buying something from the cat shop. Stop by and see the cats for yourself.

4) May has been strike central here in Rome. We have seen strikes by just about everyone, from taxi drivers, to public transport workers, air traffic controllers, and even gas station attendants. Gas station attendants?

5) This year's Culture Week (9th annual) started on May 12 and ends May 20. All state-operated museums and archeological sites are free.

6) Had a lovely Canadian college student staying in one of my apartments this week with her parents, and she asked for a recommendation for a place to get her hair done. My Italian hair guru, Alberto, was booked, so I sent her to a place I had only heard about but never been to myself. Noi Salon is, to my knowledge, the only salon in Rome with native English speaking stylists. My guest was very pleased with her cut and color and tells me it's a great place to recommend, so... I pass the tip on to you. I have also heard that that they do manis and pedis.

7) Barbra Streisand tix went on sale in Rome on May 11. Guess she decided to open her world tour here on June 15 and this will be her first-ever live performance in Italy. The nosebleeds are going for €135, and the good seats are €850. That's right folks, the equivalent of about $1,150 USD. OnethousandonehundredfiftyUSdollars.

I'm getting a little verklempt... talk amongst yourselves... I'll give you a topic... Barbra is neither a bar nor a bra ... Discuss.

Che cosa stai dicendo, Willis?

Ok, I admit it. I know I should be really ashamed for my sheer delight in finding little Arnold Drummond plastered on the side of a centuries-old building during a Sunday stroll yesterday. I'd say he's at least 3 feet tall or so. But as you may know, I am pretty numbed towards graffiti in my neighborhood, and I can't help but be amused by random and mysterious urban street symbolism (remember Untho?).

Anyhoo, found this guy around the corner from Piazza S. Maria in Trastevere. If you're familiar with the area, it's posted right in front of that bar that seems to be the headquarters for the Rome grunge movement, and where to my horror Ale swears some of the best gelato in all of the city is made. I've been dragged in there enough times but I still am not convinced. If I'm feeling brave one day, maybe I'll attempt a post about it.

But for today, how's about some Arnold trivia for you? Did you know that Diff'rent Strokes was called "Harlem contro Manhattan"(Harlem against Manhattan) in Italy? Then it was inexplicably changed to "Il mio amico Arnold" (My friend Arnold) and in its final mutation, simply "Arnold." Personally, I think the Japanese said it best: "Arnold bouya wa ninkimono ." Apparently this is a "literal title" but what it literally translates too, one can only wonder.

I have learned that there was a theme song in Italian but to my dismay have not been able to find any audio copies of it online, just the picture from the album, which was being auctioned off on Italian eBay, but alas, I missed that one too. Not that I have a record player for 45s, but who knows, perhaps I would have bought one just to listen to it.

Would any of you Italian speakers out there be interested in the lyrics? I did manage to dig those up. Thanks to Nico Fidenco for the composition.
Oh, what the heck. Let's just go ahead and translate some of the choicer gems, for the ridiculousness of it all. I mean, what did I learn Italian for, after all, right? Just keep in mind that in the original Italian version, IT ALL RHYMED.

ARNOLD
-------------------------------
Arnold a-ha
Arnold a-ha

Arnold, Arnold, sempre nei guai
una ne pensi e cento ne fai

Arnold Arnold zarattata'
giri la testa e lui te la fa

Arnold Arnold zarattata'
giri la testa e lui te la fa

Lo trovi nascosto in un vecchio cassetto
sorriso da furbo, occhi da matto

You find him hidden in an old drawer,
smiling like a trickster with crazy eyes

ti prende il tubetto del dentifricio
lo spalma felice per tutto l'ufficio

He takes your tube of toothpaste
and happily spreads it all over the office

Arnold a-ha

Se sulla faccia ti salta un ranocchio
o la pallina ti arriva in un occhio
o in tasca trovi la zampa di un'oca
puoi star sicuro che e' Arnold che gioca

If a frog jumps on your face,
or a ball hits you in the eye,
or you find a ..wait... what's a zampa di un'oca? a goose's claw? in your pocket,
you can be sure that's Arnold playing

Arnold, Arnold, sempre nei guai
una ne pensi e cento ne fai

Arnold Arnold zarattata'
giri la testa e lui te la fa

Bicchieri e piatti rotti
li trovi dentro i letti
la scatola del lucido
e' piena di confetti

Broken cups and plates,
you find them in the beds,
the shoe polish can
is full of candies

And then it repeats itself again... ah, the joy. If only I knew the melody, we could all sing together. And by the way, where the heck was I when Arnold was putting broken plates in the beds? Was that one of the "very special" episodes?

I did find the theme song in Italian to another old show though... did you ever read this post?

Italian Food on a Low-Carb Diet

Well, I wasn't planning on posting anything this week... taking care of last minute details before my trip... but this one was just too good to pass up. I couldn't resist.

I bought a bag of croissants, and this morning at breakfast I noticed this printed on the bag:

Well, it's nice to know that the croissants aren't on some kind of dangerous fad diet. It's ALL-NATURAL weight loss. How do they do it?

Just Watch Out for the Splinters

And while we're on the topic of the use of the English language in Italian, let us not forget the joy of Italian menus translated into English. This fried fishing boat was on offer last night at the restaurant below my house for just €14. And you thought fishing boats were expensive! Not here! Maybe if you don't eat the whole boat, you can take it home in a doggy bag, build the rest back later, and put up your own "Gone Fishin'" sign by the weekend.

And I'm sure that as with most exotic cuisine, it tastes just like chicken.

By the way, frittura di paranza, or "net fry," is one of those dishes that scared me out of my wits the first time (and needless to say, only time) it was ever served to me. Basically it's all the little fishes that get stuck in the net and aren't sufficiently large enough to constitute their own plate. So, they just batter 'em, throw 'em all in a big ol' vat of hot oil, fry 'em up, and dump 'em on a plate for you.

Whole.
Eyes.
Fins.
The works.

Usually I say anything fried is worthy of a try, but my response that time? If it can look me in the eye from my plate, I'm not eating it. Mi dispiace. I know, I know: I don't know what I'm missing. I've heard it all before, so don't bother trying to convince me.

Although I must say, I have heard that when you get a really good fishing boat and fry it up, there's nothing else like it in the world! Now, would that negate the need for a toothpick?

And if your car could talk, what would it say?

Mine would probably say: put me out of my misery. But that's another story. Today I want to show you what Rome's "Garden Service" van says. That's translated literally... probably more fitting is something like city landscaping or urban maintenance. In any case, I ran across one of their miniscule vans while walking home, and I found that it has a charming little message for all passersby. Take a look for yourself:

It says:

I'm environmentally-friendly: I run on methane and I don't pollute. BYE

So, I'm sure you can guess what I found so curious about this. Bye? Bye??!! What the heck is it doing saying "bye" to me? Ah, the mysterious use of the English language when woven into Italian. You've gotta love it. Well, bye to you as well, Mr. Servizio Giardini Truck. Have a lovely day, and please, say hi to your other environmentally-friendly pals for me.

Bye

Tacky Exists in Italy, Too

Just in case you were wondering. Hate to burst your romantic bubble, but it's not all gorgeous people zipping around in dark sunglasses on their sleek Vespas around here. Oh, no, folks. I give you the "nano da giardino," a.k.a., Italian-style lawn gnome. This ubiquitous creature exists even in the land of la dolce vita, and you've just gotta give them pizzazz points for that fancy light-up dome that is oh-so-strategically placed. And, as we shall soon see, environmentally friendly as well.

I saw these little guys on a commercial last night for a discount store called Lidl. The lamps are, in fact, solar-powered. Please note the little panel above the door in the handy photographic illustration. Charming, no? Jimmy Carter would be proud.

Available in a mind-boggling assortment of four different models, one of them can be yours for the low, low price of just €14.98. And, per favore, don't go spending those extra two cents all in one place now, you hear?

Nonna, Just Take the Bus!

This is an ad I've been seeing lately on the buses around the city, and every time I see it I just have one of those "ask yourself why" moments.

Can you read it? Wait, let me get closer for you:


Don't worry, I wasn't driving when I took this...I was in the passenger's seat.

Anyhoo, so, the title of the poster is: "FREE PUBLIC TRANSPORT"

And I'm thinking... woo hoo! 'Bout time!

Wait, what's that you say?

"Annual transport pass for Rome residents over the age of 70, with income up to €15,000 per year."

Ok, now, I'm not trying to make fun. Well, not much. It's just that, how many people age 71 and over still ride Rome's notoriously bad public transport system? Not many, I'm hoping. But, for those who are still out there, clutching their handbags for dear life and being thrown about like produce on the back of a truck: May God bless 'em!

Another Neighborhood Unsolved Mystery

People, I really don't know what to make of this. When I first arrived in my neighborhood, I saw this window with all these stuffed animals and random gobbledy-gook hanging from it, and I asked Alessandro what the heck was going on there. He told me that it was probably for La Befana, since it was late December-early January. (Even though I've never personally seen anyone do this to celebrate La Befana...) Well, once it got to be about August, and our furry friends were still left hanging out there, that theory pretty much fell apart.

So here we are, nearly six years and two additional windows later, and the mysterious fun fest just keeps on growing. You can't miss this window when walking down Via della Lungaretta, just over Viale Trastevere on your way to Piazza S. Maria in Trastevere.

Here are the only shabby facts I have on this mystery:

1) The stuffed animals and other random "decorations" are never removed from the windows. They stay there day in, day out, night and day.

2) I am 99% sure I know who does this. It's this man I see walking around the neighborhood on a very regular basis. He is, as you can imagine, quite the character. Picture Colonel Sanders, maybe minus the goatee, add a cowboy hat and a walking stick, and you've pretty much got it. I know nothing else about him, except that he has a posse of equally "interesting" friends who travel along with him. And he is pretty much always talking to someone, in what looks like a very involved, intellectual conversation. I don't think I've ever seen him alone. He's like the neighborhood social butterfly. And he's tall, people. At least 6 ft. 1 or 2 inches, if not more.

3) The reason I am pretty sure I know who it is? One time I saw a photocopied article taken from some underground, alternative magazine plastered to many random buildings around the neighborhood, and when I stopped to look at it, there was a picture of these windows and of the man in question, but I didn't read the article. Now, years later, I'm really regretting that, because lately this has become one of those mysteries that is just eating away at me. I might need to start questioning neighborhood sources, such as the fruit vendor, Piero, whose store is about 2 feet from my front door. If his dog Nano could talk, he would reveal every neighborhood secret, since he probably hears them all as he sits in his little cut-out fruit box doggy bed every day at the fruit store entrance.

Now, although I see this mysterious Signore Sanders-like guy a couple times a week in passing on the neighborhood streets, I have to admit that even in the name of blogging I'm not shameless enough to stop him and ask, "Hey, what's up with your windows?" Just yesterday I saw him again, checking his mail at the front door of the building in question with another member of his cowboy hat posse, and I was really tempted, but I still just can't seem to find a way to start that conversation. And I don't have the guts to try to snap an undercover photo of him.

Alas, this is one of those mysteries for which, I'm afraid I can't tell you anything other than you'll just have to come over here and see for yourself. And if you bump into him, please ask what's up for me. You can get away with it, I promise.

My personal favorite? The blonde Barbie-like doll on the left window. But the orange hazard triangle on the right window is also a nice touch.

**UPDATE: Grazie mille to GPL, another blogger here in Rome who kindly shared his knowledge in the comments section about this mysterious man. Apparently he is known as the Puppazzaro or the, well, how can you translate that? The stuffed animal man? And he is/was a painter, along with his brother who were part of a group of artists that were friends with Pier Paolo Pasolini.

Also, on a totally unrelated note, please allow me to direct you to the funniest thing I've seen all day, thanks again to GPL. Take a look at Francesco Rutelli, Italian Vice Premier and Minister of Cultural Heritage and Tourism (whoa, try saying that 5 times fast!), as he urges you to pleeeeeeease, come and visit Italy, in what can only be described as a drug-induced state that permitted him to temporarily speak a strange trance-like English. This *might* just earn a spot on my sidebar.

But he sure does have bags under his eyes...

Sorry folks, I am just getting carried away in Roman random-ness. Hot on the tail of yesterday's weird sign, I bring you this poster that I've seen on a few buildings around my neighborhood for several months now:

I promise you that my neighborhood is not super-infested with both graffiti AND random posters. At least not any more so than any other Roman neighborhood. It's just that I tend to have an eye for these things, and I've noticed a phenomenon in many big cities that I can only refer to as something like "urban inside jokes," and Rome is certainly no exception. You'll find weird posters, stenciled-on symbols, pictures, and messages on random buildings, street corners, lamp posts, etc., and unless you're in on it, well, you're left to wonder. Maybe that's part of the thing--you're supposed to wonder, and then go discover what it all means for yourself. BOH.

So, here I'm wondering: Just WHO is Untho? And WHY is he never tired? What's his secret? I mean, he looks kind of grumpy if you ask me, maybe he does need a little sleep after all. Maybe he just needs to eat a good, old-fashioned Roman supplì. Hint, hint... have I got a post for you...

And "the chocolate is not strawberry"

A big GRAZIE goes out to "I Gelati di Joe" for clearing this mystery up for all of us.

For his heroic efforts in the world of gelato flavoring and clarification, I hereby award Joe my "random sign of the week." Heck, why not make it random sign of the month, for that matter. It's in Campo de' Fiori if you care to drop in. See what they give you when you ask for cream and chocolate...I'm curious. Maybe they'll get all confused and start pointing to the sign.

Un-American Graffiti

The other day, I posted a video that my friend Finny made when she was visiting, of me driving around my neighborhood streets looking for parking (in this post). One of my guests who will be arriving in a few months and has never stayed with us, but who follows my blog, got in touch with me to mention that with all that graffiti you see on the video, could it be that my neighborhood (Trastevere) is in a run-down or dangerous area?

Fair enough question. Truth be told, Trastevere was a pretty rough neighborhood in the 50s and 60s, but over the years has actually undergone an urban gentrification, becoming one of the more expensive and well-to-do areas of the city (believe it or not, after seeing the graffiti-covered buildings in the video). I wonder if graffiti=crime is still a good general rule of thumb to apply in the States? In my experience, it certainly doesn't work that way here in Europe. I realize that most Americans live in a suburban, not city, environment, and so may not be used to seeing graffiti, and thus they associate it with a run-down or dangerous area. In many of the suburban areas and gated residential communities that are so frequent in the States, you generally don't find distinctions between the "bad" and "good" parts of town as you would in a city, and private homes would probably be the only place to put graffiti. It's the urban environment that seems to invite the graffiti "artist" to go to work, and I think we should take a take a closer look at how common the practice of graffiti is here in Rome, who is doing it, and what it means.

In most of the larger European cities I have visited, I have seen an abundance of graffiti. Everywhere. Near the train station and shady-looking businesses around it. Near and even on the richer homes (which are still apartment buildings, not single-family dwellings). On the shops. On the subway cars. Even on the churches. Everywhere within about a 2 meter radius from the ground, anywhere there's a nice "canvas" of wall, seems to be fair game.

When you live here you tend not to notice it, but my guest's comment has really made me stop to consider the topic. I'm now kind of more sensitive to it since I need to be able to communicate the European urban reality to people who may never have experienced a European city before, and may be justifiably put off by the fact that there is graffiti on the walls, and what that says about the area.

Here's what I came up with on my walk back from the grocery store yesterday, as a little examination of this topic.

First, I think the majority of the graffiti you'll find is simple tagging, kind of like a cat spraying to mark territory. Take this street corner off of Viale Trastevere for example: make a simple 360° turn, and on every corner of the intersection you'll find the same tag: "Lucas."



I found Lucas all down the road as well, once I started looking for it.

Here's another example of tagging that I found in various spots in the neighborhood. Can you decipher what the "tag" is?


If you said "Croels," you're right. (Now scroll back up to the first "Lucas" photo. Notice anything?)

Here's the first piece of graffiti I ever saw in my neighborhood, five years ago. Who knows when it originally went up. I still remember it because I thought it was funny, and since I was just learning Italian, I was proud of myself for understanding it as well:

It says "More houses, less churches." Graffiti as political statement, especially when painted directly on a church. Rome's housing situation is very difficult.

Evidently inspired by this succinct and effective message, someone else decided on a new rhyming phrase that has sprung up next to it, on the same church:

"More green, less...." well, I'll let you look that one up in your Italian dictionary. Let's just say that dog owners aren't so good about picking up after their dogs when they walk them.

Some graffiti can get quite elaborate and almost artistic:

And if it stops for long enough, even a press delivery truck becomes fair game:

Often you'll see buildings that look a bit two-toned, like this restaurant:

That's because they are constantly painting over the graffiti. But just next door, this:

Because it all depends on the owner of the building, and if they can afford to keep painting over it.

What point am I trying to make? The truth of the matter is that I'm no sociologist or criminologist. I wish I understood better the reason why graffiti is such a common practice here in European cities. I agree that it's a shame to see it on churches and buildings of important historical significance, and it certainly can be an eyesore. But I think when we're talking about graffiti and associating it with crime or a "bad" neighborhood, we need to understand the context we're dealing with.

Why are the graffiti artists tagging all over? Is it because they want to commit crimes in the neighborhood, or because my particular neighborhood attracts a delinquent crowd? No. Like I said, you'll see graffiti pretty much throughout Rome. (As an aside, when the Rome soccer team won the national championship in 2001 for the first time in 20 years, "normal" people turned into rampant graffiti artists, spray-painting elaborate emblems on the streets and buildings in broad daylight, for weeks on end.) So the question remains: why?

In college I took a few criminal justice classes (a secret passion and curiosity of mine--I took all the electives I could, as I was actually an advertising major) and one of my professors, Jeff Ferrell, had gone underground to do field research with graffiti crews, getting to know them inside-out and writing an interesting book on the topic. I have to say that Crimes of Style: Urban Graffiti and the Politics of Criminality was hands-down one of the most engaging course textbooks I ever had. One reviewer of the book comments:

"In the graffiti artists' use of space and in their definitions of beauty and neighborhood, they uncover the way power and meanings are manufactured. Ferrell's work is a powerful, clear, and engaging book; one which shows stunning new ways of seeing and studying 'crime.'"

Later, when I became a copywriter at an ad agency, my creative director actually hired a graffiti artist to do a mural on a city wall for a campaign we were working on, and the graffiti artist went on to sell some of his work in art galleries.

That's the thing: whether we like it or not, many of these spray-can toting individuals do define themselves as artists, not criminals, and no amount of clean-up is ever going to truly get rid of the problem. I don't really know how to reassure my guests on questions like this. I think many people who have traveled to Rome for the first time have probably been initially shocked at seeing all the graffiti, but then it most likely fades into the background once they see that it isn't an occurrence particular to just one area, but pretty much to all areas.

In the end I can't really provide a good answer. And I'm sure if I could, it would be way too complex and involved for this post, anyway. I just wanted to bring up the topic and open it for discussion. I'm curious to hear what your impressions are when seeing this, what experiences you have to add, and if you are qualified to enlighten us from a more academic or sociological point of view, please do so!

Roma E' Strana

That means Rome is weird. It's not such a bad thing. You see, I got tagged by Finny Knits for the "Six Weird Things About You Meme" and since I tagged Finny a while back, it's only fair that I play along. But, Dio Mio, says I! Who wants to know weird things about me? This is a respectable Rome-themed blog and so I'm not telling, unless you come to Rome yourself and buy me a nice glass of wine--I'll even let you choose what kind. After last week's Wine Series, you're schooled and ready to go, right?

So, in keeping with my blog theme, I'm going with a modified version: "Six Weird Things About Your City Meme." And here are the slightly modified rules.

THE RULES: Each player of this game starts with the 6 weird things about their city. People who get tagged need to write a post of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 bloggers to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment on each of their blogs telling them they have been tagged, and tell them to read your blog, leaving a hyperlink to your post if possible.

Let us not forget that I've already shared my Ten Things I Will Never Understand About Rome. But those were curious mysteries I have absolutely no answer to, while these are just plain curiosities, whether we can explain them or not. So here's my official weird ("unique"? "special"?) list.

1. Il Parcheggiatore

This is a mythical figure here in Rome, of utter and complete annoyance. You're in your car, looking desperately for a parking spot. A kind of shady-looking character standing in a parking spot (often one marked by blue lines meaning it's a city-mandated spot and costs 1 EUR an hour) starts waving you over. "Ehi, capo! Vieni!" (Hey, boss, over here!) You think, OK, now that's a public parking space. Outta my way, buddy. But no! You see, this is his JOB. He "parks" people. Abusivamente. Illegally. The parcheggiatore abusivo does pretty well, because if you don't pay him a euro or two for "finding" you a spot, he just might key your car, or something equally lovely. Now, in my neighborhood, where it's virtually impossible to find a spot, these guys turn up on occasion in a couple of parking areas. I generally don't need to park where they hang out, but if I am desperate and it's the only spot I can find, you better believe I'm not paying them. I pretend I don't hear them. This is one of the benefits of having a 15-year old car whose 6-month insurance payment is more than the total value of the car itself.

Speaking of parking, just for fun, here's a video you may not have seen on Finny's blog. Her plan was to film how incredibly impossible it is to find parking in my neighborhood (I'm behind the wheel), but instead the parking gods smiled down on us and we found a spot just waiting for us.



2. Umbrellas, bubble guns, and possessed kitties.

When it rains, umbrella sellers mysteriously appear everywhere. When it's sunny, they sell guns that make electronic noises and shoot bubbles. That is, when they're not selling battery-operated velvet kitties that make scary meowing noises and have red eyes, or a plastic Smart car model that they place in a shoebox top so that it can run up against the borders of the box, making honking noises and opening and closing its doors.

Behold this picture as evidence:

Walking across Tiber Island one day, I find this guy amusing himself by shooting his bubble gun for sale. There are a million and one of these street hawkers and apparently they all get their merchandise from the ACME Junk Warehouse. Who BUYS this stuff? And WHERE do they all congregate to automatically switch all of their various merchandise to only umbrellas of every shape and size at the first sign of rain? Mah! Mistero.

3. Taking wind.

Romans are pretty funny when it comes to cold temperatures. If you aren't covered up to your chin with a scarf when it's cold, you'll literally catch a cold. "Copriti bene! Prenderai freddo!" (Cover up! You'll catch cold!) was one of the first phrases I learned in Italian, I heard it so often. One time I had an earache for like a week, so I went to the doctor and his first question to me was "Did you take wind?" (Hai preso vento?) What's THAT 'sposta mean? Apparently if your ear "takes wind," meaning if a gust of cold wind happens to blow in your ear, well, it causes a prolonged earache, even for a week or two. I'm not saying this isn't medically valid. I'm no doctor. I just thought it was weird. BTW, the earache went away on its own.

4. Only two subway/underground lines.

It's weird for a huge European capital like Rome. We struggle along with nearly 300 daytime bus lines. It makes for pollution and gridlock, yet, we have just Metro A and Metro B, which only intersect for transfers at one point: Termini train station. And even those two lines took like 20 years to complete, or something ridiculous like that. I'm not going to the trouble to look up the exact amount of time, but trust me, it was a lot. You see, weird thing... every time they start digging, all this stuff from these people who lived here like 2,000 years ago keeps getting in the way.
Wait! Wait! What's that, you say? Metro C? Have a look for yourself:

Here we are in front of the famous "wedding cake," a.k.a. "typewriter," monument to Vittorio Emanuele II in Piazza Venezia, with a nice 'ol barrier explaining to us that "archeological investigations" are taking place for something called METRO C. This would be a third underground line which would serve the historic center which is currently hopelessly underserved by underground. Maybe my grandchildren will be able to take me for a ride. I'm not all that hopeful.

5. A new word for my vocabulary.

Many of you weren't around in the beginning to read my Italglish post. But that's the fun phenomenon of English words or English-sounding words taking on actual meaning in the Italian language. Tracie B. has quite expertly grasped this concept as well. So the new word for my vocabulary, that I learned for the first time the other day, is splatter. As in: SPLAH-ter-uh. As in:

"Have you seen that new movie by Mel Gibson, Apocalypto? I heard it was totally splatter."

"Yeah, I saw it. It wasn't splatter. It was more just trying to show what their lives were really like. Ok, it was kind of splatter. But it was splatter with a point."

Any guesses as to what this might mean? If you guessed "gory" or something approximating graphic scenes of violence, you'd be right. Or, as this Italian Wikipedia entry states, "a type of film genre born out of horror, which produces ultra-realistic violence through special effects, such as spraying blood." Splatter. Gotta love it.

6. Grocery shopping.

Why do I have to bag my own groceries? Why do the cashiers here sit down when in the States they are almost always standing? (A couple of my various jobs to earn money to come back to Italy was as both a grocery store cashier and a bagger for 5 months, so... I'm just a tad jealous.) Why do I have to pay 5 cents per bag? (I've already ranted about this somewhere.) Why do I have to wear plastic gloves when I touch the fruit and why do I have to weigh it myself, trying to remember the number of my fruit or vegetable so I can enter it on the scale? Weird.

There's my six, in no particular order of weirdness and basically as they sprung to mind. Personally I can't be bothered to tag anyone else. But if you want to list your own, by all means! And you can surely steal my modified rules and tag other people. Leave a comment with the hyperlink to your post.

Viva la strana!

Ten Things I'll Never Understand About Rome

If you've been reading my blog for a little while, then you've probably noticed that my observations often tend to be of the curious, "why?" type. I can't help it. When I see certain things here, I am always asking myself this question and trying to uncover the answer.

Nine times out of ten, with a little detective work, I manage to get it all figured out. But for that inevitable 10th time, I decided to hammer out a list of ten Ask Yourself Why's: things about Rome I'm not sure I'll ever truly get to the bottom of. There are lots of possible answers to these ponderings, but so far, nothing I'd call definitive.

So without further ado, I invite you to join me on my quest to answer the following questions. All this demanding to know why might come across as just a tad bit militant, but you know that in the end, I really do love the quirkiness of it all.

Here we go then:

1. Why does my bank open at 8:30 am, close at 1:50 pm, reopen at 2:35 pm and close again after just 40 minutes at 3:15 pm?

2. Why do the transport workers almost always strike on Fridays? And what are they really striking for? And why do they warn us in advance? And why do they generally stop striking for an hour or two in the morning and the evening to let the workers commute?

3. Why does the pharmacy have to wrap up all my purchases in tissue paper, as if they were Christmas gifts? I mean, it's just a box of Bandaids, for God's sake, and there's all these old women staring at me! And while we're on the topic, why do I have to ask a pharmacist for a box of Bandaids? Why can't they just put them out on the shelf? Are they afraid people will steal them? Do they think that purchasing Bandaids requires a pharmaceutical consultation? (And why on Earth do they not teach you the word for Bandaid in your Italian classes??) Yes, I know that the supermarkets here have Bandaids now. But I'll never forget this episode, because it was my first encounter with an Italian pharmacy nearly six years ago. Bless their hearts.

3a (because I like the #3 so much I accidentally put it in twice...thanks for spotting it, Gracie!). Why, when I'm crossing the road and a car comes dangerously close to hitting me, do I put out my hand? Do I think that my hand has superhuman powers that will stop the oncoming Roman driver from obliterating me? And why do they always manage to stop, even when it seems like it isn't humanly possible? (Facciamo le corna.)

4. Why is it that at nearly every intersection in the city, there's a small sign with an arrow telling me how to get to the Auditorium? In trying to research this one, I found this blog post in Italian asking the same question, insightfully pointing out that some of the absurd number of these signs are located nearly 20 kilometers from the Auditorium, which is quite a stretch, and they always have their trademark random little arrow. They don't really delineate any specific path, mind you. They just kind of say: "Hey! You there! Just wanted to remind you, the Auditorium is here in Rome, somewhere in the vicinity of right" (or left, or straight, as the case may be). The only thing is, the closer you get to the neighborhood where the Auditorium is actually located, the number of signs drastically decreases, while the distance between them drastically increases, effectively sending you into a panic wondering where to go if you truly wanted to get there in the first place. People, I'm telling you. If you come to Rome, make note of this. It's both hilarious and surreal.

5. Why do Italians insist on having so much food at a wedding, or at the traditional New Year's Eve dinner known as cenone (literally: the big dinner, where I once was glued to my seat for nearly 6 hours), or at a first communion lunch, and then complain, I mean really complain in a woe-is-me kind of way, that it's too much? And why is it though, that if you don't offer this much food, they criticize you behind your back for being cheap?

6. Why, OH WHY, do people ride around on their scooters with helmets on without the chin straps fastened? If you've already gone to the trouble of putting the thing on your head...I mean...is it that much of an inconvenience to just fasten the thing? Or do these people think that the protection factor of the helmet is found in simply placing it on their head, not in actually securing it so that it stays there should their head unexpectedly make contact with the pavement? I know they're just trying to avoid a ticket from the mandatory helmet law, but still...seems like a petty little act of defiance, IMHO (thanks for that acronym and the geeky tip, Finny!).

7. Why is it that when I'm waiting for a bus and it doesn't come for like a half hour or more, when it finally arrives, another one of the exact same number is driving right behind it? Thank you, Bruno Bozzetto, for feeling my pain on this one.

8. Why are public employees allowed to sleep on the job and no one says anything? Yes, yes, I am aware of the Italian phenomenon of "I can't ever be fired, so I'll proceed in doing whatever I want." But still...have we no personal dignity? When I went to get my Italian ID card, the man at the information desk snoozed the entire two HOURS I was there. ("Um, excuse me, don't want to interrupt your dream there or anything, but I was just wondering where to deposit this form?") I've also heard a few tales of employees sleeping under their desks in government offices, although I can't say I've seen it with my own eyes. Are these people staying up all night so they can catch up on their sleep once they get to work?

9. Why are Romans obsessed with exact change? Why do they get so mad when I use a €50 bill? Do they never go to the bank? Is there a national change shortage? Why do I have to go make change for them when I want to buy something? Why did a shopkeeper once refuse to sell me a €1 loaf of bread because all I had was a €20? Is it that hard to keep €19 of change in the register?

10. Why, when Roman tap water is considered perhaps the best in all of Italy, do they never serve it in restaurants? And why isn't there ever any ice?

Don't get me wrong, folks--I'm not complaining. In fact, like I said before, I do love these Roman mysteries. For me it's all part of the unique "charm" of my adopted city.

Are there things about where you live that make you wonder "why"?

Just Don't Spill Anything on the Sofa!

So, I'm thinking...let's get the owner of this place together with the owner of Pig Night. They seem to have the same, shall we say, "eccentric" taste in naming their businesses.

Pizza & Champagne in Living Room
Via dei Genovesi (corner of Via dei Vascellari)
Trastevere

Priest of the Month

Folks, it’s Sunday, a religious day, and I have a topic on a somewhat religious note for you. Now, please don’t get offended by this. I’m a little nervous even going here but in all sincerity, I am just trying to unravel and demystify a phenomenon that has been puzzling me for the last few years, when I first saw it appear on Roman newsstands. So, without further ado, I give you: the “hot priests” calendar:

For the price of just €6 (about $8 US), you too can be the proud owner of 12 months of black and white shots of men of the cloth.

What IS this?

I mean, first of all: will you please look at Mr. March?

Is that not just a little bit, well, I don’t know…suggestive? It kind of gives me the heeby-jeebies. I mean, it’s a priest. And if I’m not mistaken, they’ve taken a photo of him, trying to make him look almost seductive. Do I need a new pair of contact lenses or is this a fairly accurate assessment?

Another point to make note of: there’s not one ugly priest in the bunch. It’s not like they got a shot of some 90-year old priest giving confession, or tried to represent the entire spectrum. These priests are in their prime and they are all fairly or very good-looking. I mean, HELLO October!

Again, I feel kind of blasphemous even saying that but people, is it not the truth?

This brings us to several questions:

1) Who makes this calendar and why?
2) Perhaps in answer to why: where do the profits go? Charity?
3) What is the target market for this calendar? I mean, WHO really buys it?

Yes, people, I bought the calendar, but only in the name of blogging. I swear! I was considering taking some photos of it at the newsstand but in the end, the embarrassment quotient of taking digital shots of the thing from the sidewalk was, for me, greater than that of actually purchasing it and then scanning various photos at my leisure.

Now. In answer to question #1: they have a website. I saw the name Piero Pazzi on the calendar, looked it up on Google, and there it was. I don’t see it written anywhere that the profits go to charity, because the same website also offers a calendar of Venetian gondoliers (which, frankly, I would feel a lot less guilty about hanging on my wall and admiring) and a calendar of angels. So the answer to part 2 of question 1 is clearly: cha-ching. Unless you can find evidence to the contrary. I don’t feel like going to the trouble of emailing the guy to ask because it seems fairly clear to me. In the English part of his website, he explains the calendar's purpose like so:

This calendar intends to give basic information and some notes on the general characteristics of the Vatican with the hope of sating the thirst for knowledge continually demonstrated by the Eternal City's visitors.

Yes, you read that right. Please, Mr. Pazzi, sate my "thirst for knowledge."

All I could find by way of news was this little bit in Italian, which says that it’s the 5th year running that Pazzi, himself a gondolier, has made the calendar, and that the photos are all taken during public services and on the streets, in Seville, Rome, and Venice. Do you think the priests have to sign some kind of release form or get permission from someone in the Church to be photographed and appear in this calendar? Do you think they even know what the photos are for?

I ran into a discussion thread in Italian here, where the participants are trying to answer the same questions. One even contacted some people associated with the Church but didn't get any answers. Someone suggests that they might not be actual priests. I have no idea, but it seems like it would be a heck of a lot of trouble to go to, dressing these guys up and parading them around. My gut feeling is that they are real priests.

Signore Pazzi (which, coincidentally, translates to “Mr. Crazies”) suggests on his website that his calendars make a great Christmas present. So, looking for that perfect gift for the person in your life who's got everything? I can almost guarantee you they don’t have this.

And folks, I still have mine. Now that it has served its purpose, I’m putting it out in the first ever At Home in Rome Rummage Sale. Only at my rummage sale, like the one I saw over at my pal African Kelli’s place, is a free one. So, first come, first served, and it’s yours, in the mail and on its way. Just send an email with your mailing address to ahirswap AT gmail DOT com. Leave a comment so others know when it's taken.

At this point I guess all that's left to say is Happy Holidays, and happy priest-admiring! (Heeby jeebies, I tell you!)

Oh, and by the way? Apparently they’re doing “casting” for 2008. Know anyone who might be interested?

Here Comes the Bride: TomKat in Rome

I know, I know. Big roll of the eyes. For any of my ahem, highbrow, readers, I apologize in advance. Today we are goin' dowwwntown for a little bit of good, old-fashioned gossip.

So, here's the dish. A few days ago, the phenomenon known as TomKat touched down in Rome, with a small entourage of family and, well, other entourage-type people. I was really trying to ignore it. Until I saw this tantalizing little tidbit on the sidebar when I was checking my Gmail. Yikes. Oh-Oh-Oprah sounds a little bit peeved, if you ask me. But hey, we can't all be TomKat's best pals, now can we? Even if the Tom half of TomKat has a field day stomping all over our couches and whatnot.

Maybe you're much more updated than I am, but here's what I can tell you:

Word has it they're getting married in Castello Odescalchi in Bracciano. This is where Italian pop star Eros Ramazzoti got married to Swiss (but working in Italy) "showgirl" Michelle Hunziker some years back. They're divorced now. Hope that doesn't rub off on TomKat. But, maybe they won't get married there after all. Speculation is running so wild that news sources are even turning to local electricians for the scoop.

Staying at their favorite Rome haunt, The Hassler. Not too shabby, eh?

This article in Italian says they're expecting 500 guests (um, Oprah, what's up with that?) and that their Scientology pal John Travolta is whizzing a bunch of them over on his private jet. In fact, some have already arrived. Wait. Did I see Brooke Shields in there?

Being a celebrity at this level must be very similar to being an exotic animal in a zoo. Making news are TomKat "sightings," like this one and this one.

I heard, even though I can't seem to find it anywhere, that Tom Cruise even asked to have the airspace over the castle closed during his wedding. Ha! I bet all the tourists coming into Rome would LOVE that one.

Hey, Oprah, don't feel so bad. If it's any consolation, I didn't get invited either. If you wanna come over and hang out, get an espresso or something, it's all good.

Five-Finger Discount on Parmigiano

We're almost at the halfway mark with NaBloPoMo! Are you having as much fun as I am?

Well, part of the fun, thank goodness, is provided by my never-ending source of ridiculous and trivial news bits, Metro. If you live in a big city, maybe you have this free commuter paper as well. Don't get me wrong: I love Metro! Remember our friend Thomas? Well, here's another little quirk for you.

So, I know you've been wondering—no, losing sleep at night, actually—over what the most-stolen product is in Italian grocery stores. What? You haven't? Well, me neither, really. But never fear! Metro has. And so, I present for your perusal:

This little gem says:

Parmesan is the Most Stolen
Parmesan cheese is the most-stolen grocery product in Italian supermarkets, with theft reaching 9% of the total value of the product sold. In other words, almost one piece out of every 10 is taken off the shelves.
According to an investigation by Coldiretti, meat follows with a 5.5% loss, wine and spirits 2%. In non-grocery products, one out of every five razor blades is stolen.

So, there you have it folks. A little bit of trivia for your next get-together. You'll be the life of the party, I tell you!

Oh, and the hand? Yeah, that would be Leonardo DiCaprio when he was here for the Rome Film Festival. I don't think he has been recently implicated in any Italian cheese theft. Not sure about the meat or razors, though.

They're Baaaaaaack....

Every year about this time, something strange happens. Mutant Nutella jars, most likely hatched from special pods in one of the Ferrero factories, start appearing in big displays on grocery store floors.

Wait, let me back up a moment. Are we all aware of the Italian phenomenon known as Nutella? I'd go so far as to say that it is as much a part of the Italian culture as pasta and caffè. I always think of it as the Italian version of peanut butter. It's a chocolate-hazelnut spread that most commonly goes on bread, or—let's not be shy with the truth around here—eaten straight from the jar. It's famous on crepes and is eaten for breakfast on crunchy pieces of melba toast. You've gotta love a country where a rich concoction similar to super-fudge chocolate icing is an honest-to-goodness breakfast food.

But, back to the main story. The Nutella I normally buy comes in a 200g (about 7 oz.) jar, and when it's gone you can rinse out the jar and reuse it as a juice glass. Visualize: juice glass. The mutants that come out for the holidays have been injected with something at the factory, because they are no less than 3 kilos in weight. THREE KILOS, people. That is 6.61 pounds of pure, vegetable oil-laden goodness.

Note how, in typical McDonald's take-out bag style, I have carefully arranged my humble 200g jar next to its mutant cousin, to give you an idea of what we are dealing with here.

Now, I love Nutella as much as the next guy, but not as much as my pal Jessica, a.k.a. Finny Knits. While I'm sure many a blog post has been written singing the praises of the stuff originally known as "Supercrema," the most recent one I know of is hers. Finny was out visiting in October and little did I know that she has a thing for Nutella. A little side fling, unbeknownst to her poor, unsuspecting hubby. Given that this girl is one of the few people I consider more than a best friend, but like a sister, I did something this year that I've never done before: I bought the 3 kilo tub-o-'tella. And come hell or high water, that puppy is making it across the Atlantic this holiday season. "Friendship is..." when a 3 kilo box of Nutella becomes a carry-on. Yes indeedy, 'cuz it most helpfully comes with its very own box!

The only drawback is the lack of wheels for when I'm running through the airport. Luckily I don't have any stops in London, so it should make it on OK (since I highly doubt they'd let that go in the little transparent bag for ChapStick and keys). I just hope they don't make me eat some to prove it isn't lethal. I'm sure Finny wouldn't appreciate that.