roman holidays

I know this post's title is cheap and trite. But I have to draw some attention to this poor neglected blog of mine and alert my bunch of readers that I am back to work. Every once in a while I meet a friend or acquaintance (mostly in Italy) who tells me: "I always follow your blog!" And I feel so bad that nowadays I update it, as we say in Italian, every time a pope dies (and they are long-lived, lately, these guys).

So here I am, writing about my roman holidays before the hectic life of a new semester begins. In English, of course, so that my majority of Italian readers, some of whom struggle with the language, will rightly protest (that's the second most common comment I hear about my blog). Let me explain my choice once and for all: basically none of my English readers can read Italian; almost all of my Italian readers can read English, even with some difficulty; it's good that Italians practice English, whereas it's irrelevant for English speakers to know Italian (albeit it's good for Americans to learn more languages); eventually, Italian will remain my favorite language for more intimate or "literary" posts. (Heidi, this is NOT an argument, so please don't highlights its fallacies! ;)

This said, I had a really good and long vacation in Italy. Too long, for that matter, I feel so guilty that I didn't study any German, Mandarin or Greek, read any Plato or Shakespeare, watched any major Italian cinematographic masterpiece, or finish writing my paper on love's knowledge, as planned (ok, my plan was a bit ambitious).

It was fun, though, to spend time with family and friends, get tanned and swim in Sabaudia (nice seaside place relatively close to Rome), visit Genoa and Bologna (where some other friends live), take my usual summer workshop of flamenco with beautiful Maria Jose' Leon Soto.

All the universal stereotypes and personal memories about Italy and Rome were confirmed, which is at the same time comforting and depressing. Rest assured: Italy is indeed a sunny country with gorgeous landscape and endless inefficiency; Rome is the eternal city, where, alas, nothing ever changes; Italians still invade beaches on August 15th (Mary's Assumption in heaven) and leave deserted cities to disoriented tourists; and yes, Berlusconi is the naked emperor of this country, and all the children have been gagged.

Main symptoms of my immigrant status: I got really pissed and incredulous for some bureaucratic issues; I was surprised someone defined "huge" a woman that in the States would be considered simply overweight; I almost cried when doing grocery shopping (see previous post); I rejoiced when I saw my vacation roommates agreeing on cleaning habits that would have sound maniacal to many American students.

Now I am back in a New Haven that feels nicely chilly, and orderly, and small, ready for a new Academic year full of philosophy, dance and snow.