This year’s Corteo Manzoniano featured many of the same actors and costumes as last year, but added a new twist, winding through the streets of Lecco at night, by torchlight.
In this video: Renzo and Lucia, lanzechenecchi, Cardinale Federigo Borromeo, i Promessi Sposi, Lecco, torchlight parade, horses
Sadly, the longer version planned for the next afternoon was rained out. But the evening was a success – they’ll be doing it again next year, and I may be able to get better footage then.
“All societies throughout history have had work right at their center; but ours – particularly America’s – is the first to suggest that it could be something other than a punishment or penance. Ours is the first to imply that a sane human being would want to work even if he wasn’t under financial pressure to do so. We are unique, too, in allowing our choice of work to define who we are, so that the central question we ask of new acquaintances is not where they come from or who their parents are but, rather, what it is they do – as though only this could effectively reveal what gives a human life its distinctive timbre.”
Alain de Botton “Workers of the World, Relax”- New York Times, September 6, 2004
An American meeting another American for the first time usually asks: “What do you do [for a living]?” As Botton suggests, this may be because, to an American, what you do for a living is a choice that reveals much about who you are. The question may also (consciously or un-) be intended to establish relative economic status. Personally, I like to know what people do simply to find some connection on which to hang a conversation.
In Italy, the question is so unusual that I’ve stopped asking. For most Italians, most of the time, there’s simply no need to ask: you hang out mostly with your paesani (hometown folks), about whom you already know everything. When you do meet new people, it’s often in the context of work, so again there’s no need to ask.
Italians more often define themselves in terms of where they come from (paese) and who their family is. No one has a choice about these things, but many Italians don’t have much choice about their work, either. They may choose their field of study, but even that is often strongly influenced by the family. When seeking a job, most are heavily constrained by the tight job market and their need, both economic and psychological, to stay close to home – job satisfaction is a very secondary consideration.
I wrote earlier about the traditional gita scolastica (school trip) which Italian kids take every year throughout their school careers.
This year Ross’ class, along with another class, took a three-day trip to Arezzo (the town in Tuscany where Life is Beautiful was filmed), accompanied by their three favorite teachers. During the day they visited cultural and educational sites, such as a museum of diaries. The evenings, however, became a problem. They couldn’t stay in the hotel, because the hotel owners complained that they were noisy and disturbed other guests (what did they expect when they booked in 50 teenagers?!?). So the kids roamed the town until they found a bar they liked, where they settled in and had drinks. Yes, alcoholic ones.
This isn’t in the least surprising: 15-year-olds are routinely served alcohol in Italian bars, and most of them handle it maturely. But I was surprised when Ross told me that the teachers were with them, also drinking, and everyone got a bit tiddly. I was amused to contemplate the probable results had this happened in the US: arrests and lawsuits for the teachers, and a press siege of the town and the school, with interviews with outraged parents, church leaders, and (especially!) politicians, until some other tempest in a teacup came along to distract the media’s attention.
But it seems to me that the teachers did the right thing: they were with the kids every minute of the evening, on hand in case of trouble. Although most Italian teens aren’t interested in binge drinking, the presence of the teachers undoubtedly curbed anybody who might have been so inclined. Relaxing and enjoying together with the kids, however, their disciplinary presence was low-key, so none of the kids felt any need to sneak away and get into trouble elsewhere. Most of the kids’ parents would have done exactly the same, so the teachers were truly acting “in loco parentis.” It’s amazing how well society can work when you trust to common sense and civility instead of trying to legislate everything.
Meanwhile, America continues to go to the opposite extreme. Trying to drown out distracting noise at the office the other day, I thought I’d listen to some online radio, and chose KGSR, a cool station that John introduced me to in Austin. It was morning news time in Texas, no cure for my distraction problem, especially when the top news item was that the Texas state congress had just passed a law banning “sexually suggestive” cheerleading routines (is there any other kind?) in high schools, and authorizing the Texas Education Agency to “punish” schools that allow such. Many Texans are wondering why their legislature doesn’t concentrate on more urgent and important matters.
Texas does have a common-sense approach to kids and alcohol. Although the drinking age in Texas is 21, as in every other US state, kids can go anywhere and do anything WITH their parents. Ross was allowed to accompany me (and her uncle Ian) into a tapas bar in Austin, and was even given complimentary Valentine’s Day champagne, since I am obviously her mother, and I gave permission.
I’m not going to say much about this; I wasn’t there, and ignored it as far as possible. The only footage I actually watched was on the Daily Show. But I do have a few items:
Early last week, I was riding the bus down to Lecco, at my usual time when it’s full of schoolkids. One girl was on her cellphone. “She only goes to mass ogni morte di papa!” she exclaimed, completely without irony, –nd now she wants to go to the funeral!”
Indeed, many of the Italians who traveled to Rome for the funeral probably don’t go regularly to Mass. I won’t presume to comment on why they went to the Pope’s funeral, except that Ross told me that some of her peers came back with cellphone photos of themselves drinking Limoncello (a strong lemon liqueur) in Piazza San Pietro.
I do know a number of serious Catholics – those who truly believe and practice Christianity, e.g., doing volunteer work. Interestingly, none of them went to Rome, and all were nonplussed by the outpouring of whatever this was, and disconcerted by the yells of “Santo subito!” (“Make him a saint immediately!”) As far as I know, it’s not in the church canons to saint somebody just because he was popular.
Rome rose magnificently to the occasion, managing to keep things in order and take care of the crush of people. Every cellphone in Italy received messages from the Protezione Civile (“Civil Protection” – the government emergency-response organization). The first read: “If you go to Rome to pay homage to the Pope, use mass transit and be prepared for organized but very long lines. Hot by day and cool at night. For information, listen to Isoradio [public information radio, mostly used for traffic warnings] 103.3.”
The second message said: “Due to enormous turnout, from Wednesday at 10 pm access is closed to the lines to salute the Pope. Friday for the funeral traffic will be stopped in Rome. The area of San Pietro is full. Large screens will be in the piazzas and at Torvergata” (an area outside Rome where the final rush of pilgrims was told to stop when the city couldn’t take any more).
My friend Alice Twain then sent her own message: “Protezione Civile: Before leaving for Rome, remember to turn off the gas, close the shutters, and water the plants.”
photo above: April 1, 2005 – the Papal Deathwatch. A TV transmission truck (belonging to RAI, Italian state television) parked outside the headquarters of Avvenire, Italy’s Catholic daily newspaper. The vultures are circling…
In many Italian restaurants, you can get a low-cost house wine (usually one white and one red selection) in carafes of 1/4, 1/2, or a full litre. In some places this is a decent though not stellar local wine, in others it will be something completely unrelated to the area. Personally, I’d try something local, even if you have to buy a whole bottle – local wines are part of the authentic Italian food experience. And sometimes the house wine is very special indeed.
The house wine does not necessarily have a lower alcohol content than what you get in bottles; it has whatever alcohol content is normal for that type of wine.
A normal Italian pizza is just right for one hungry person to eat – the size of a 12-14″ plate. True Italian pizza, at least in northern Italy, bears little relation to the huge thick globby thing they call pizza in the US and, for my money, the Italian version is a lot better. It’s a thin crust with a thin layer of tomato sauce and mozzarella (usually) plus whatever else you order on it – every pizzeria has a long list of options from the classic to the bizarre, but usually you can subtract ingredients just by asking. In the better pizzerie, pizza is cooked in a wood-fired oven. Don’t settle for anything less.
Italians don’t often drink beer with meals, except with pizza. Beer may be on tap or in bottles, and is served by volume (piccola, media, grande).
Aqua gassata (pronounced “gazata”) or frizzante (“fritz-antay”) has bubbles, naturale or non-gassata does not. While tap water is safe to drink all over Italy, Italians usually drink bottled water because they prefer the taste (not because the restaurants are looking for an excuse to make you pay more). You can insist on tap water, but be aware that in most parts of Italy it is very hard (lots of calcium), and you may not like the flavor. In some mountain locales where the local water is very good, they serve that in carafes for free. Anywhere else, it can be difficult to get tap water brought to your table, but, if you want to try, ask for acqua del rubinetto.
No, gassata is not the default choice, unless for some reason your waiter has preconceived notions about foreigners. The Italian population splits pretty evenly on the gas or no-gas preference, so why would any waiter assume otherwise?
NB: To an Italian, al fresco is slang for being in jail!
Weather and facilities permitting, the waiter may ask if you prefer to sit indoors or outdoors. If you want to smoke with your meal, outdoors may be your only option nowadays. Prices should be the same for a sit-down meal no matter where you sit.
At many/most bars you will be charged more if you occupy a table, even if you fetch your drinks/snacks from the bar yourself. Bars care about rapid turnover, so they charge you more for table service. It’s a conflict of interest between tourists wanting a place to sit down and rest their feet while enjoying the human scenery around them, and bars needing to make money from the space they’re sitting in. The more desirable the location (e.g., Saint Mark’s Square in Venice), the more ridiculous the price of a cup of coffee at a table. If you just want coffee, have it standing up at a little bar on a side street. If you want to rest your feet and enjoy the view, be prepared to pay for that.
Most restaurants charge coperta (the term actually refers to the place setting), a minimal (1-3 euro) cover charge which includes the cost of bread, table settings, etc. Most do not charge for service, and Italians tip only minimally. Waiting tables is a trained and valued job in Italy, and waiters make decent salaries. Of course they do appreciate any tip that you leave but, unless you’re spending more than 50 euros a head on a meal, a tip of more than 5 euros is extravagant. I usually leave 1-2 euros plus whatever loose change I want to get rid of. (NB: In the US I tip very well – several of my friends worked their way through college on tips!)
Getting the bill in an Italian restaurant can actually be an ordeal. Unlike many American restaurants, Italian restaurants are usually in no hurry to get rid of you (and most Italians would react very badly to a restaurant trying to rush them out). I don’t know why, but it can take forever to get the bill. Maybe it’s because only the restaurant owner has access to the cash register, and he/she may be busy chatting with regular customers.
Note: Restaurant recommendations are here.
