it’s raining again

For the third year in a row, it’s raining an awful lot in Rome. It rains a lot in May – unheard of. And then again in November. And in the Summer of course we get the violent storms – but that’s normal.

The point is, it is never a question of showers. In the Summer it pours down in subtropical quantities. In May it’s a curtain of water. In November it is thick and heavy, same as London. In this season the Tiber becomes the shade of caffelatte. Tall latte, to be precise. With debris please.

The dignity of the town sinks under rivers and lakes of rain. Rome was not built for the rain. Its drainage system is simply not there.

Since a couple of seasons Wellington rubber boots wink from the window displays. It’s a veeeery bad sign, when you see luxury logos, well-known patterns, intertwined monograms and – the cherry on the cake – Hello Kitty on rubber boots. It means that the rain is here to stay.

november 28th 2010: we’re all in depeche mode

Today Wikileaks shared with Der Spiegel, The New York Times, The Guardian, Le Monde and El Pais the information coming from more than 200,000 State Department diplomatic cables.

“In the coming days, the participating media will show in a series of investigative stories how America seeks to steer the world. The development is no less than a political meltdown for American foreign policy” writes Der Spiegel. Repubblica was not in the club, but its journalists comment on the wikileaks tapes. Andrea Tarquini reports.

Graph: Der Spiegel

private foreign affairs

In Rome there are many secret places, mainly because Rome is a double-headed capital. Italian or Vatican State residences and offices, klosters and religious congregations HQs, but also private associations and clubs.

Sometimes a meeting is organised in such secretive places, and BRX takes a few snaps. Welcome to the places you won’t find on Lonely Planet.

One of these is the Circolo degli Affari Esteri, along the Tiber and not far away from the Farnesina, ie the Foreign Office. A typical 70s setting: tennis club with a pocket-sized swimming pool tiled in cerulean mosaïc and a Capri-style clubhouse.

Yesterday the Winter arrived properly in Rome, with a N/E wind blowing. Even if wearing a coat and a scarf, I could easily imagine how pleasant this place could be during the roman dusty Summer.

Retired bureaucrats in tracksuits and trainers were sipping their cappuccino and lattes at heavily subsidized prices in the vanilla-coloured Beach Bar, still pristine notwithstanding having seen the heydays in the 70s (both the bar and the retired folks). Bella vita…

Enter Space Invader

Space Invader is now in Rome. We’ve spotted his signature in Piazza Fiume, in San Lorenzo, in the Pigneto. The appliqué graffiti are bigger than the ones I used to spot in my Paris years in the 90s. But I like them. They’re reassuring little urban pets.

New Weimar, postcode QE2

Can you hear all this noise about deflation? But do you see inflation around you?

Do you trust more Ben Bernanke or Wolfgang Schäuble? Maybe the little bears in New Weimar, QE2, can help you in making up your mind…

(many thanks to the sender of this link – you know who you are!)

Sdoganamento, the italian neologism

How can I translate the concept behind the word sdoganamento? Uhm…like wearing Swarovsky during the day. It was considered inappropriate or tacky, now it’s mainstream to have shimmering boots and t-shirts even in the office. Even elegant, if it’s sufficiently full of credentials, say, Prada. Another example…cosmetic surgery maybe? It was medical, quite extreme, now it’s a concept pushed (up?) and pumped as though it were just heavy duty make-up. Sdoganato. It’s got the green light. It’s accepted. It’s even recommended!

And then there is the mother of all sdoganamenti. Nothing to do with strass by day and nip and tuck. In Italy, post-democracy is a fact. A huge elephant in the room. For those curious of understanding a facet of post-democracy this afternoon’s Deutschlandfunk programme is illuminating. In German.

This is something you won’t hear on the Italian media without a heated debated tangled in political arguments. But that’s not the point, because here we’re not talking about left or right, conservatism or progressism. It’s about the violation of the Constitution, XXI Disposizione Transitoria, which happens every single day. But we are in the sdoganamento years. And everything goes. And it’s planned.

urban collages: la condition de la femme

Sometimes a photo says more about the Zeitgeist of a country than all the first pages of the newspapers, the maîtres à penser and talking heads on TV.

It’s a trade-off, baby

There are many blogs, forums, facebook groups dealing with the topic “leaving Italy”. As usual business thrives on a deep-rooted desire, a craving. Or a frustration. Articles flourish on the new self-proclaimed gurus dispensing reasons why a giovane talento should leave. Enter the radio programmes, the structured blogs and then comes the monetization of the trend, the icing on the cake: THE BOOK.

There are at least a dozen of books on this theme in the bookstore window displays at the moment, written by university professors, journalists, expats, wannabe political pocket-sized leaders – you name it.

Finding reasons for staying in your country or leaving it should be an individual quest. Job opportunities, family, securing a better future for one’s children, all these motives are very individual. In Italy everything has to become a fashion, a moda, a mainstream flux. But choosing a country is not like picking a pair of shoes. This is when following the mainstream can become dangerous.

while stocks (or shops?) last

In as much as I love Berlin’s KaDeWe, London’s Uniqlo, Tokyo’s Matsuya or Paris’s Bon Marché, I realize that shopping at the local store is also necessary as a way to keep a neighborhood lively.

However recently I have been cancelling a series of local Roman stores from my local shops list. Because they do not deserve my patronage. I wish them happy bankruptcy ASAP. Here is why.

comfort views

It’s that time of the year. The mad rush to the Christmas season. Working hours get longer and heavier. It’s the second peak, in terms of intensity, after the Spring fairs season. The rush.

The weather gets muddy. Transportation in town gets nightmarish, Rome wasn’t built for the rain, and it shows. The gradually intensifying shopping sprees clog traffic. All this adds up to much longer hours both in the traffic and in the office. The desk becomes cozier. Wintry comfort food, be it fruit, carrot cakes or cinnamon tea, shows up besides phone and laptop. To rest my eyes from too much laptop I cast a glance over the balcony to check the river Tiber’s water level.

I can see St Peter’s skyline beyond the Tiber but in this time of the year there is a moment in which I stop and get on the balcony. It’s when the starlings, come sunset, do their mad rush and their bravado on the river. Sometimes they are a magnificent graphic representation of collective intelligence. Sometimes they are desperately fending off an attack from a hunter, a falcon zooming right in the heart of the starling cloud.

PS

It is almost midnight. It’s raining. We’re sitting on the sofa with our Macs, iPad and our cats are zooming around the house. One year ago it was raining too. We were in Berlin, together with millions of people. 9.11.1989 – 9.11.2009. What a magnificent night…