Thursday, October 18, 2007

In the home stretch



Do you realize these guys are expected to protect the Pope? If you wanted serious protection
Hey, where’ve you all gone? What happen to the zippy repartee’? Where’s all the great advice? Don’t you want to know if I’ve finally gotten to San Andrea Delle Quirinale? Well, I did and more. Went to Orvieto and saw Signorelle’s “Last Judgement”. It cost me four euros to see it. I don’t believe Signorelle slept one minute while he painted that.
I never saw devils so fiendishly and energetically going about their work. Actually they were downright enthusiastic.

I little devil relief. Take a close look at this. This is the first bikini. Circa 100BC. I never noticed if there was a bottom.
I don't think so.




I can’t decide if I can’t wait to come home or if I need another few weeks to understand the Romans.
There are moments when I feel I’ve made a real connection and other times when I absolutely know that I’d die if I knew what they were really thinking.
They’re generally pretty nice if they’re trying to sell you something. That's mean and unkind and I promised myself I'd learn to be nicer. So far it's not working. In truth you must love the Romans because they have the great good sense to live in a wonderful place filled with great stuff.
Here’s a quick list:
Caravaggio
Raphael
Filipino LIppi
Bernini,
Borromini
Michaelangelo
Fab boots
Cool costume jewelry
One euro transporation
Vino, vino, vino
Gorgonzola dolce
Farneses, Borheses, Phamphilis Roveres
Trams, metro and ferroverie
Gorgeous men
Gorgeous men
Gorgeous men
Oh, and have I mentioned…. Gorgeous men?
And for you out there who would like to comment on how smashingly funny I am, don’t bother, I’ve been told.
Here are some of my photos and the things I’ve been seeing.






Later,
Emelia

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Stll Walking, may be crawling soon.

My oh my have I traveled. See those feet? They're 4" shorter then when I began this trek. You'd never guess what these feet have seen ... and what these feet have avoided. It's amazing what the Romans will leave on their sidewalks.



It's definitely not Montclair, NJ. It's probably not like anywhere where any of you live. But it's neat and I get to see it every day.
More then half my time here has passed and part of me can't wait to be home again and there's a part that knows I'm going to miss this like crazy.
I've been doing this online thing for over 6 weeks now and hope you're reading it and enjoying what I've had to say. Please don't be shy about responding. I want to hear from all of you. I think its been a real kick.





Later

Sunday, October 7, 2007

Lost in Roma, Not a bad place to be.



I miss all the great map readers, direction knowers, east, west, north, south direction finders who’ve been here. The people who know without needing a compass which way the river is, which way the piazza this or the palazzo that is simply because they’re been there once. The Pats, Mikes and even the Angelas of this world who can point me in the right direction without looking at the map for 15 minutes. What happened to my internal compass? What happened God? Why wasn’t I given that knowledge? Why do I walk into the street and immediately feel confused? Is this fair? Is this right?
How many times do I have to go to the lavandaria before I know whether to turn right or left? Will five times be the charm? Huh, huh. I was standing in front of Andrea delle Valle, trying not to cry, looking right, looking left. My son-in-law is not saying a thing. He’s a very nice guy because I know he’s thinking stuff I don’t want to hear and he has the good grace not to say it.
“Hmmm, let me think? Angela said the river is right, right? No, no, she said she thought the river – right but it was not. But do I have to go towards the river to get to the wash and dry or do I have to go,,.. Oh, God, I’m lost again.
F… it, take a chance. Go right. Whoopiie! Correctomundo. God is great, God is good. We thank you for the right direction. Amen.
Amen brothers and sisters, talk later.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

The Good, The Bad, The Crazy

When coming to Italy you must be wary of two kinds of workers. They live on the edge of reason and can blow at any time. The first are the cashiers at Despar (supermarket) on the Torre Argentina. They are fevered in their quest for exact change. They will not change a fifty. Well, maybe they would if your bill was 49.98, but don’t try it if your bill is 19.65 or 32.78. They will absolutely refuse to change a big bill and will sit there with their hand out, shaking their heads, rolling their eyeballs and commiserating with the nearly rioting customers backing up behind you. It’s a terrifying ordeal. This is their job: They sit in a chair, ask you if you want a “borsa”, push your items over the computer reader, sometimes twice if need be, tell you your amount in the fastest Italian possible, responding to your quizzical look by whipping the amount viewer in your direction, then they slump into their chair preparing for the inevitable battle of the coins with a look of utter hopelessness because they know. They know without a doubt that you won’t have anything near the exact amount. If by some trick of fate you do have the exact amount they throw it into the cash register with barely a nod.
The other day I was positive I was going to outsmart these toughies. I had my credit card in my pocket at the ready. Why hadn’t I thought about this before? What a simple solution - always the exact amount. Easy no? Easy? No.
Totally cocky, with a smirk on my face, I whipped that credit card from my pocket and handed it to that cashier. She eyeballed the credit card, looked at me and asked as she leaned back in her chair with the same hopeless look I’d come to know well. “I.D.” she asked? Foiled again! I couldn’t find the copy of my passport I thought I always carried with me and I had to empty my backpack to find enough money to pay her while she and the guy behind me clucked their tongues to a crescendo
Now all anyone has to do is whisper “Despar” and I break into a sweat. But I’m formulating a plan to master my fear. I’ll let
you know how it works out.



These are the people I had breathing down my neck at Despar. You can only see their backs but believe there's murder in their eyes.

The second kinds of worker to watch out for are bathroom attendants. I don’t know if something truly horrible happened to these women in a previous incarnation or when they left home this morning but there is no denying it had to be traumatic. You can find these attendants in public bathrooms in the Borghese Gardens, the Palentine, the Colosseum, almost anywhere there is a public bathroom. These women are way beyond huffing, puffing and eyeball rolling. They go for the full-throated, eardrum-damaging yell. They are equal opportunity screamers, shaking their mops at every race, creed and socio-economic group. Of course they always do it in Italian so I think it makes it that much more frightening for us who do not speak the language.
Why are they off their feed? On the surface of things it seems to be: A. Women going into the men’s toilet. B. Men going into the women’s toilet. An easy mistake if the doors are open, they look alike. C. Anyone goes anywhere if the floors are recently mopped. D. You need to puke. E. Your wife needs to puke and you follow her. F. You knock something over. G. You move too quickly. H. You just won’t listen to the damn instructions – you idiot.
I thought the girls at Despar were scary until I saw one of these women in action. It was enough to stop me from peeing for the whole day. And when they start yelling at you they can’t seem to stop themselves. One man was followed half way up the steps of the Palatine Hill, I thought he was going to cry I never saw what happened to his wife. She was probably made a prisoner in the stall. It could really happen you know. Anything is possible. You just don’t know what we’re dealing with here. Ask Pat. Ask Angela. They’ll vouch for me.
Do you think these women are tested and hired just for these character…traits? Could the department of arts and parks or whoever is in charge, examin these people and like what they see? Is aggressive toilet maintenance beneficial to the city?
Are they trying to save …water? Soap? Toilet paper? Please, someone let me know, I haven’t peed in 3 days.



This lady has an actual tape of a bathroom attendant on a rampage.





This is the results of an encounter with the bathroom lady on a rampage.

I think I've said enough about this.
Talk later.