Spain 3, Russia 0

June 27, 2008

Last night on television I watched as Spain beat Russia 3-0; this was the first time I have ever watched a professional soccer game. We were told by the employees at our local Turkish take out place that we must watch. This is a counterpart to an establishment we had discovered on the second night of our arrival. At that time we were still staying at our hotel and we were wandering the streets, wondering what to eat (in Italy???, but yes…); we saw the Turkish Kebab symbols in the window and decided to give them a try. We were immediately delighted and acknowledged our good fortune as we watched them take out fresh dough, roll it into a perfect circle and pop our soon to be sandwich bread/pita into the oven. (I forgot to mention that they also advertise that they make pizza). They offer falafel and kabobs with very fresh ingredients all the way down to the picante. While we were waiting, we began speaking to two of the workers telling them that we’d been to Istanbul and from there we all excitedly talked laughed and began the quick journey of each of us trying to describe who we are; how we fit into meeting one another at this moment in time. Coming from Istanbul, they have been here in Alessandria for just under six months. They too were surprised and asked several times about our year long stay—wanting to make sure that our language struggles weren’t giving them inaccurate information. And each time we confirmed that yes, we are here for a year.

In our short two weeks we have certainly met Italians but we are also meeting Italian immigrants—Julia (who cleans the complex common areas on Monday and Thursday) and her son Wriggly are Albanians. I’m not yet sure about our internet café host, Zack and his family. They are Muslim and so somewhere from the Middle East; we’ve introduced ourselves but haven’t asked where they are from. Now we meet these gentlemen from Turkey. As we walk around it’s obvious the melting pot of nationalities and again I am left thinking about earning a living, survival and my abundant life in America. How is it that I have been given so much that living in Italy is for me a dream come true versus a hope for a new and better life? While I am hoping that my being here changes me to become a better person, again I am doing this as a gifted choice versus a need.

The first time we met 8 year old Riggly, he told us how his parents had left Albania before he was born and then ended up in Morocco. Something happened in Morocco that we couldn’t figure out but he kept saying “polizia” and that then they came here to Alessandria. Riggly’s father works at a local hotel and as you know, his mother has cleaning jobs. What has been interesting to Kim and me is that two different times, the Italians who live in this complex have asked who Riggly is—making it apparent that they haven’t gotten to know “the help”. I don’t mean to sound “better than” but it has felt strange. It’s apparent that when Julia is talking to us she is always looking over her shoulder and listening. It’s a look of not wanting to “get caught” and our eye contact has verified this. I know, I know, it’s easy for me to talk. I’m not paying her (well, yes I guess I am in a way via our rent) to clean and just get on with it.

What I am trying to say (and not so very well) is that I am confronted by multiple worlds—the joy of meeting people of all backgrounds and the world of hierarchies that we as human beings have established since we began walking on two feet (and actually from my readings, prior to that). I keep telling Kim, in jest but also with a tiny level of revelation, “they all look just like us”. I have come to believe that it should be mandatory for any Presidential or senatorial candidates to have at least travelled outside of the US, without an entourage. They should have learned to buy a train ticket in a foreign language and to not have a car for one month. I still find it mind boggling that George W had never travelled outside the US prior to his presidency; this was quite worrisome to me at the time of his first candidacy. I do believe that his lack of exposure to the rest of the world made it easier for him to invade Iraq because he just had no insight into all of the faces there that look just like us. Now I can hear a few voices in my head (who will remain un-named) saying “oh, come on Rachel, too much red wine”. But I would say, ponder it, please, just for a few minutes; you don’t even have to tell anyone what you are doing...

So, to end, I am happy to know that one of my goals today will be to stop by the Kebab joint and let them know that we watched as “Spagna kicked the Rooskies” butts. We are joined together by sports and all of the “thrill of victory and the agony of defeat”. We can all relate to this; matters not what language comes out of our mouth.

Closer to home: USA has taken over in the Cribbage tournament; little Uzbekistan won a couple of Hollywood games but the score remains lopsided 20-11. Kim just knew you’d want to know…