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.

Learn Italian in Song: La Canzone del Sole

The Song of the Sun

One of the greatest pop songs ever, in any language. Music by Lucio Battisti, lyric by Mogol (1971). If you only ever listen to one Italian pop song, it should be this one.

Le bionde trecce gli occhi azzurri e poi Blonde braids, blue eyes, and then
le tue calzette rosse your red socks
e l’innocenza sulle gote tue And the innocence on your cheeks ““
due arance ancor piu’ rosse two oranges redder still
e la cantina buia dove noi, respiravamo piano And the dark cellar where we breathed softly
e le tue corse l’eco dei tuoi no, oh no And your running, the echo of your “no’s” ““ oh, no
mi stai facendo paura you’re scaring me
dove sei stata cosa hai fatto mai? Where you have you been, what on earth have you done?
una donna, donna, dimmi “A woman” ““ woman, tell me
cosa vuol dir sono una donna ormai? What does it mean: “I’m a woman now” ?
ma quante braccia ti hanno stretto tu lo sai How many arms have held you – you know [the answer]
per diventar quel che sei to become what you are?
che importa tanto tu non me lo dirai What does it matter – in any case, you won’t tell me.
purtroppo Unfortunately.
ma ti ricordi l’acqua verde e noi But do you remember the green water and us,
le rocce e il bianco fondo The rocks and the white sea floor?
di che colore sono gli occhi tuoi? What color are your eyes?
se me lo chiedi non rispondo If you ask me, I won’t answer.
oh mare nero, oh mare nero, oh mare ner Oh, black sea, oh black sea, oh black sea”¦
tu eri chiaro e trasparente come me You were clear and transparent as me.
oh mare nero, oh mare nero, oh mare ne.. Oh, black sea, oh black sea, oh black sea”¦
tu eri chiaro e trasparente come me You were clear and transparent as me.
Le biciclette abbandonate sopra il prato e poi The bicycles abandoned on the grass and then
noi due distesi all’ombra We two stretched out in the shade.
un fiore in bocca può servire sai A flower in the mouth can be useful, you know
più allegro tutto sembra Everything seems more cheerful.
e d’improvviso quel silenzio tra noi And suddenly that silence between us
e quel tuo sguardo strano And that strange look of yours.
ti cade il fiore dalla bocca e poi… The flower falls from your mouth and then…
oh no ferma ti prego la mano Oh, no, please – stop your hand.
dove sei stata, cosa hai fatto mai? Where have you been, what on earth have you done?
una donna, donna, donna dimmi “A woman” – woman? – woman, tell me
cosa vuol dir “sono una donna ormai”? What does it mean: “I’m a woman now” ?
Io non conosco quel sorriso sicuro che hai I don’t know that secure smile that you have
non so chi sei, non so piu’ chi sei I don’t know who you are, I don’t know who you are anymore
mi fai paura oramai, purtroppo You scare me now – unfortunately.
ma ti ricordi le onde grandi e noi Do you remember the big waves and us
gli spruzzi e le tue risa The splashes and your laughs
cos’è rimasto in fondo agli occhi tuoi? What remains at the bottom of your eyes?
la fiamma é spenta o é accesa Has the flame gone out or does it still burn?
Oh mare nero, oh mare nero, oh mare ne.. Oh, black sea, oh black sea, oh black sea”¦
tu eri chiaro e trasparente come me You were clear and transparent as me.
oh mare nero, oh mare nero, oh mare ne.. Oh, black sea, oh black sea, oh black sea”¦
tu eri chiaro e trasparente come me. You were clear and transparent as me.
Il sole quando sorge, sorge piano e poi The sun when it rises, rises slowly and then
la luce si diffonde tutto intorno a noi The light spreads all around us
le ombre di fantasmi nella notte The shadows of phantoms in the night
sono alberi e cespugli ancora in fiore Are trees and bushes still in flower
sono gli occhi di una donna ancora pieni d’amore They’re the eyes of a woman, still full of love.

Milan Central Station: Safety Tips

Almost anywhere in the world, large railway stations are dangerous. Large crowds of travellers, many of them new to the place and a bit bewildered, offer tempting targets for pickpocketing and other crime.

Milan’s Central Station is no different, and, especially lately, is even worse. I have long been leery of the area outside the station, and would not ever walk there alone at night (on advice of long-time residents of Milan).


I do use the Central Station at night, quite often, but I arrive by metro, from whence I can walk directly into the main hall of the railway station, passing through well-lighted areas with plenty of people around. If you take a taxi to the station, they drop you off at one of the main entrances under the portico – again, well-lighted with lots of people around.

Note: If you take an airport bus to the Central Station, when you get off, walk forward (in the direction the buses are facing), along the side of the station. You will first come to a side entrance with stairs going up to the departure platforms. If you need the main hall (to buy tickets), keep going around the front of the building. (There is construction right now with barriers coming and going so this is hard to describe.) Taxis are available both on that side and in the front under the main portico.

The key is not to be caught anywhere around there alone. I have even been warned against taking very early trains into Milan and arriving when the station is still largely deserted. I did arrive once around 6 am (had to catch an early train for Rome), and the atmosphere was decidedly creepy – the few people around did not look like people I wanted to let get close to me. I went into the coffee bar til I could board my train.

The area outside the station is now the target of big crime clean-up plans by the city of Milan, in response to a spate of rapes and other problems originating there. One recent, egregious case was of two young French women, just arrived, who accepted a ride in a car from two young Tunisian men who, like themselves, spoke French. These men took them to an isolated house and raped them for hours.

<insert disclaimer about not blaming the victim> but… how dumb do you have to be? Why would any woman, anywhere, ever accept a ride from a stranger? If it really needs saying, okay, I’ll say it: DON’T ACCEPT RIDES FROM STRANGERS. No matter how nice they seem, or how well they speak your language. For that matter, don’t accept much of any kind of help, especially if it involves accompanying you somewhere or telling you how to get somewhere. If you’re lost, try not to look it, until you can seek help from someone reliable. There are lots of uniformed police around these days (especially in the station) – ask them.

One of the new safety measures under discussion for Milan is to require taxi and bus drivers who drive lone women home to wait until they see their passengers safely inside the front door. (I have noted – and appreciated – that my taxi driver friend Antonello already does this, though it hardly seems necessary outside my own gate in suburban Lecco! He spent many years in the US, and probably developed that instinct there.)

All of this is not to say that Milan is dangerous – it’s less so than most cities of comparable size. But, like any large city, it’s got more safe and less safe areas. Unfortunately for the tourists, one of the least safe, for now, is the area around the Central Station. So… be careful out there.

Jul 8, 2007 – This MSNBC video of pickpockets operating outside Milan’s Central Station may be too “good” to be true – can anyone really be that oblivious to the boy repeatedly dipping into her bag? But in any case it’s a lesson: it pays to be aware of what’s going on around you.

add your own Milan safety tips and comments below

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.

Deirdré Straughan on Italy, India, the Internet, the world, and now Australia