Category Archives: bio

Italian Vacation Habits

When I first visited Italy in 1987 or ’88, Italians still took their traditional long vacation – practically everyone was on holiday for the entire month of August, all crowded together on the beaches or in the mountains. Many Italian families own “second” (vacation) homes, so summer simply meant a transfer of the wife and kids to the summer home by July 1st, with the husband visiting on weekends until his own vacation began in August.

All offices, shops, and factories shut down tight in August – there was no point in being the lone company to remain open: there’d be no one around for you to do business with.

That scenario had already begun to change when we moved to Italy in 1991. In many families, both parents must work to make ends meet, so in July kids go away with their grandparents. If this isn’t an option, the City of Milan offers summer camps at vacation villas owned by the city, with sliding scale fees so that even the poorest families can get their kids out of the hot, filthy city for a few weeks.

Few Italian organizations – besides the government – shut down completely in August nowadays, and employees are more likely to stagger their vacations, with the wiser and more flexible preferring to travel off peak, when vacation spots are less crowded and cheaper. But it can still be hard to do business – no one wants to make any real decisions when key personnel may be missing. It’s even difficult to keep an office running efficiently when employees have to search far and wide for a restaurant to give them lunch!

This year the government returned from its own vacation with lots of big ideas, including reforms of the school calendar intended to “improve tourism.” The idea is to shorten the three-month summer holiday, sprinkle more long weekends throughout the school year, and lengthen the Christmas (and presumably Easter) holidays.

To be effective, this plan would also have to include staggering school holidays by region. As in France, where a week-long winter holiday is carefully scheduled for different weeks in different provinces, to balance the tourism load on ski slopes and Caribbean islands. Germany and Austria have a bilateral agreement to similarly reduce crowding in their preferred ski areas.

For Italy, I would suggest a further reform: a five-day school week. Most Italian high schools still run a six-day week, though many elementary and middle schools have switched to five. We would happily go away more often than we do, but Ross is in school most Saturdays, which considerably shortens the radius of our possible wanderings.

Climate and habit may both be stacked against any radical reforms, though. Our gung-ho young vice-premier Rutelli said that the summer vacation ought to be changed because “we’ve been doing it the same way for 40 years.” This, to the Italian mind, is not a good or sufficient reason to change anything; I fear this part of his argument will carry no weight at all.

One commentator sniffed: “We all have second homes, and people already take as many long weekends as they want to go to them, using fake doctor’s excuses.” The first part of his statement is not true – not everyone can afford a second home. The second part is truer; we seem to be in a minority of parents who don’t take our daughter out of school many Saturdays just so we can leave town. (Perhaps that’s because we don’t have a second home.)

Another commentator asked: “How are you going to get the teachers to agree to this?” Good question. They don’t get paid much, and one of their perks is that long summer vacation – I’m not sure they’d be willing to give it up. And they themselves seem to get a lot of unscheduled days off during the school year, what with strikes and illnesses…

On the third hand, the long vacation is not helping students academically – there’s way too much time to forget what you learned during the school year. Summer homework assigned to combat this ends up being a burden on the parents. The summer between Ross’ 6th and 7th grade, she had so much homework that we spent four hours a day throughout August supervising her work and/or teaching her – not much of a vacation for us. I confess it was something of a relief that she flunked 10th grade, so we all had a homework-free summer last year. (No such “luck” this year! Poor Enrico just spent two weeks with Ross on her math and physics make-up homework, when he would have vastly preferred to be off hiking.)

Climate may also be a factor in summer vacations. While more and more Italian offices are air-conditioned nowadays, schools are not, and, under current budget constraints, it’s unlikely that any can afford to install and power A/C. With summer heat getting more intense, as it seems to be in recent years, it may be simply impracticable to keep kids in school much beyond mid-June, nor bring them back earlier than the beginning of September.

Some schools we know of have in past years shown a desire to flex the calendar, starting a bit earlier and finishing a bit later so as to be able to offer more long weekends during the year, but were told by the Lombardy region that they had to stick to the official regional school calendar. A simple step in the desired direction would be to let each school negotiate its calendar with teachers and parents, assuming that a minimum number of class days is respected.

I’d write to Vice-Premier Rutelli to suggest this, but he doesn’t seem to have an email address…

Home Ownership in Italy: Space Invaders

The night after our return from the US, we were awake at 3 am (jet lag), and it was raining hard. I remarked to Ross: “The rain sounds nice.” Her reply: “Anything sounds nice, after a month of air conditioning.”

Good point. Most of our time in America was spent in enclosed spaces (both homes and cars) with air conditioning, completely cut off from the natural world. (Which was very hot and steamy, so this is understandable.) Italy is far less air-conditioned, and we have big windows which are open most of the time, so there’s not a huge distinction between outdoors and in. Giant grasshoppers, lizards, and even baby birds have trouble telling the difference, and sometimes decide they’d rather live inside with us than outside where they belong.

Nor is there much separation between the neighbors’ spaces and ours. We can see and hear a lot of what goes on around us, including the family down the hill who have bought their toddler a number of expensive, noisy toys – a train that he can actually ride on, around a tiny track; a mini-SUV he can drive (the horn is the part he understands best so far); and an electronic keyboard. Of course the child has to play with these things out in the garden whenever I’m trying to take a nap in the afternoon…

The dogs next door have also decided that they want to live with us – whenever left alone too long by their owners, they try to tunnel under the fence into our yard. A few nights ago they finally broke through – there were muddy pawprints all over our kitchen verandah. At least they didn’t go dig up the winter vegetables (fennel and broccoli) freshly planted for us by Domenico.

We called the neighbor (on vacation) and she called somebody to “fix” the situation, which he did by simply putting back the dirt the dogs had dug out. They could easily have dug it out again, but instead decided to force a hole by bending back a panel of wire fencing, which also required them to chew through several inch-thick branches of our honeysuckle vine. I’ll give them points for persistence, but I am not pleased! I came up with a more effective temporary solution on my own, using a rectangular wire basket left over from an Ikea closet, and lots of wire. The neighbors will need to fix this situation more permanently, as well as replace the plants – half of that honeysuckle is now dead. A few nights after that, the dogs got out of their own yard some other way, then decided they want to tunnel INTO our yard – what is this obsession with our yard? It’s not as if we keep garbage around that they can get into.

A more welcome intruder is Tatiana, one of the cats belonging to another neighbor. She adopted us last winter, perhaps because there’s too much competition from the four other cats at her home, and passed the cold season in Ross’ bed. We didn’t even have to feed her – she turned her nose up at leftovers, and we didn’t have whatever fancy cat food she’s accustomed to, but she’s so plump that she never seemed to be hungry, either.

Anniversaries

This year we must endure, in quick succession, the first anniversary of hurricane Katrina, and the fifth of 9/11. I am so glad I’m not in the US to be bombarded by the news coverage, though I can catch enough of the spatter from anywhere in the world.

The politicians who rush to capitalize, claiming they did do or will do or are doing the right thing, and the other guys the wrong thing. The media who, with dreary predictability, actually give airtime to this political drivel, padded out with plenty of their own drivel about “what lessons have we learned?” “how has the world changed?” etc. (Their bathroom conversation is preferable.)

If we haven’t learned our lessons already (and we haven’t), there’s no use in piously trotting out the same old clichés on every anniversary, to sustain the illusion that we have.

So here’s my suggestion for commemoration: shut up and THINK. Then do. Just don’t talk about it.

Airport “Security”: Reflections on Our Times

After all the fuss in the UK last week about terrorists toting Gatorade bottles, we faced our return flight to Italy with some trepidation. Not because we were afraid of being blown up, but because the “enhanced security measures” widely reported in the media promised hours in line waiting to be pawed over by TSA agents of questionable competence, for no increase in our actual safety.

I worried a great deal about how to pack. Not what to pack, because I didn’t have much choice about that – we had arrived in the US with two iPods, a laptop, and a digital still camera. Once there, we picked up my videocamera (which had been sent for repairs), and Ross got a new digital SLR for her birthday. Everything else might be expendable, but I was damned if I was going to pack a brand-new and expensive camera in checked luggage. And we had done a lot of other shopping, so our two large suitcases were already bulging (and tempting).

I checked the TSA and airline sites daily, and was relieved to see the former being frequently updated with new information. By a day or two before departure, it was clear that, as far as TSA was concerned, I needn’t worry about carrying on the electronics. But I still stressed about it, wondering if overzealous airline staff might give me a hard time – US Airways’ site had not been updated after the first day of fear, so I had no way of knowing if their policies had changed.

I was relieved to find that the new suitcase locks I had bought were TSA-friendly (meaning that security agents have keys to open them). Normally I prefer to use non-TSA locks and accompany the bags myself through the initial scan, but, under the circumstances, I didn’t want to give anybody any excuses to get paranoid about my luggage.

We flew from Baltimore BWI to Philadelphia to Milan last Thursday. On the advice of US Airways, we arrived at BWI three hours ahead of flight time – which turned out to be totally unnecessary. Check-in was smooth, once I had figured out that I was supposed to do it myself on a touch screen terminal – I guess this is increasingly common in the US, but it’s still fairly new to me. Then it took the agent a while to figure out how to ring up our $100 charge for overweight luggage. In light of everyone emptying their usually heavy carry-ons (on advice of TSA and the media), it would have been a nice gesture on the part of the airline to add a little to the checked baggage weight allowance (though my own suitcases were heavy for other reasons).

We dutifully drank our bottles of orange juice before heading into security. First stop was an air-puff bomb sniffing machine, then the usual “everything off/out” x-ray and metal dectector. The line was minimal, the TSA staff efficient and seemingly competent. We ended up with way too much time to hang around in the terminal (and then the flight was late).

My large new backpack contained my laptop, videocamera, still camera, books, non-liquid toiletries, and iPod. In addition, I was carrying a nearly-empty purse, for easy access to my wallet, tickets, passports, etc. Weirdly, it was the purse they decided to swab for bomb-making chemicals. The TSA agent apologized for the delay and said it was “something about the way things were laying in it.” Possibly the metal coil on a small spiral-bound notebook had looked strange on the x-ray.

At the gate there were recorded announcements that you couldn’t take liquids etc. on the plane, but no one was actually looking at bags, so I could easily have gotten away with buying something in the terminal and carrying it on.

We had a three-hour layover in Philadelphia – plenty of time for a security check which we didn’t actually go through. Depending on what terminal you switch to in any given airport, you may or may not have to go through security again when transiting between flights. We had gone through security in Philadelphia on the way in, but didn’t on the way out.

At the gates, again there was a recorded announcement about liquids, but no actual check. I noticed that duty-free bags were being handed over at the plane door. Though I did not look closely at what was in them, some of it may have been cream-type cosmetics. I guess this is okay if you receive it at the door and it’s in a sealed package, though I wouldn’t absolutely rely on this, and would not myself risk buying expensive cosmetics in the duty-free just now.

I usually like a strong finish on my articles, but perhaps it’s best that I refrain from any flippant remarks about how easily anyone with half a brain could circumvent all this “security.” In America these days, you never know who’s reading your mail…

Foresight

“As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”
H.L. Mencken, July 26, 1920