5 minutes each

ciao tutti -

as my time in italy is wrapping up (thursday is the last day of this program), i am suddenly struck by the desire to narrate innumerable passing observations from this time as a means of convincing myself that they in fact occurred. that being impossible, i will settle for partiality and offer these 3 or 4 five minute sketches. i'm holding myself to the five minute rule for each - i should be writing a paper about italo calvino, but i'm intimidated by him.

1. beggars : 18:20

although in greater concentration and better organized among themselves in major cities, there are people here in arezzo who sit on the side of the street with a small dish either in front of them or held out to passersby, sometimes associated with a sign. the signs, without fail, begin with 'sono povero' or 'sono povera.' not to sound heartless - when ever i have change in my pocket i try to pass it out to people who need it, but it sounds like they don't even believe that they're poor. you're begging for money. i'm going to go ahead and make the connection with a less than ideal financial situation.

the problem is that a lot of beggars don't need the money. in major cities, as i alluded to before, there can be networks of beggars working in conjunction with pickpockets. here in arezzo, my favorite beggar is a guy who comes into public places with an electronic keyboard over his shoulder and plays the demo music as he comes around with his hand cupped for your change. his method is so ingeniously lazy, i wanted to give a few centesimi as commendation for guts. but i once saw him doing this routine while eating an enormous sandwich. that ruined it for me. yesterday i saw him walking around town in a new sweatsuit and nike shocks.

2. change 18:25

in the united states i hate having change in my pocket. in italy, it's practically a necessity. first of all, i like to think that some people really need the money, so i put it in their little dishes outside of churches. but beyond that, i'm afraid. afraid of going to the supermarket without change. of course in the states i've been in the situation where the stuff that's rolled off that slick reptilian belt across the laser-beam scanner thing have come to like $5.02. the cashier usually asks, have you got 2 pennies? OR, gift of the gods, there's that little bowl of benificence 'take a penny, leave a penny.' here in italy, there is no such benificence, and the lady is pissed if you don't have exact change for your €3.47 bread, cheese, and beer lunch. so i try to keep a collection of coins of diverse denominations in my pocket, hoping that that mess, that incompleteness will make for a more complete cash drawer (or till, as w.b. yeats likes to call it). so after she flings my receipt at me, i can do my little bow that displays subservience, say 'grazie, arrivederci,' and bolt.

3. gli api 18:32 (damn it)

coming from america, a land where cars have become a sort of meta-accessory with which we match our outfits and even personalities on the road, it is delightful to be walking along the sidewalk and hear the subtle doppler effect of un ape as it passes alongside you. the symbolic significance of this name needs to be pointed out - ape (ah-pay) in italian means 'bee,' and thus it is sonically appropriate that a small tricycle truck (an elongated three-wheeler with an enclosed cockpit and a flatbed behind) should be given this name: as it comes alongside, it is almost possible to imagine a giant hand swatting it into a guardrail, or a stiff wind throwing it dangerously off balance, caterwauling from side to side as the now-wakeful driver overcorrects, pulling on the handlebars like reins on a spooked stallion.

it's a nice commentary on the italians that these gritty workmen in rough shirts and padded jackets can light up a cigarette, spit on the ground, and get behind the wheel of a 50 cc machine that drives along the shoulder at 15 mph, still managing to look like the master of materials and machines.

18:42 - i love gli api - i wanted to do them justice.
i like this format. maybe more to come.