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August 1, 2008

We are back in Alessandria, slowing back down to a lazy rhythm after a week of visiting with Siegy and traveling to Turin and Milan (twice). Both cities are, as you may already know, rather large: Turin with a population of one million and Milan with two million.

Both have amazing train stations where once you disembark from your train, be ready and alert for throngs of people, noise, and seemingly orchestrated chaos. People zoom from here to there, simultaneously looking anxious and confident as necks careen skyward seeking clocks and departure signs. All of humanity can be seen, smelled, and encountered in the minutes it takes us to navigate through and out of the station.

Turin and Milan have hiked it up just a few notches from Alessandria when it comes to fashion and being trendy. July is “on sale” month throughout Italy and there are blocks and blocks of elegant historical buildings now serving as storefronts aiming to sell, sell, sell. It’s a thrill to know that 400 years ago this structure was built in honor of putting down the filthy invaders and now we can buy a scarf at more than “half” off. We thought that this sale season was in anticipation of everyone going on vacation in August but were told “no”, that this just ”happens” every July and January.

The windows are filled with signs attempting to entice you inward… SALDI!! -40 -60% SALDI”. What tends to entice me inward is not the shopping but the fact that many of the clothing stores are air conditioned and it’s HOT and humid this time of year. Siegy, however, was in a hypnotic dreamland with all these sales and so Kim and I dutifully followed her from shop to shop, thumbing through merchandise that we would never buy acting interested to remain cool and not look like potential shoplifters. At one point early on, Kim announced she just could not go into these frenzy filled stores and would wait outside. I told her I was headed in to keep cool; about three minutes later, I turned and saw Kim browsing. Temperature trumping the gag reflex.

The crowds are thick with young and old bumping elbows and carrying bags. It’s always a question of who will move out of the way first as singles and couples bound toward you. Always, it has been us, moving aside, going off the curb, stopping to allow others the comfort of passing with ease. We mumble and complain while extolling our greater sense of politeness and human advancement. But, “they” have worn us down and we have started making a little game of “chicken” out of it; holding our ground to just see if perhaps “they” will kindly take a turn and step aside. Kim brags about having honed this skill after walking at Green Lake over the years. And what are the results of our most serious research? Sometimes they do step aside without even a flicker of having been put out and other times we stand nose to nose (sort of on my part) and for a few special moments, we are connected here, in this place at this time, on this planet; we are one before they scowl at me and walk around.

Teens always seem to stand in a circle of 4 -6 causing the waves of humanity to ripple around them. They ignore all but themselves as they laugh, gesticulate, and simultaneously text on their phones. Many puff upon their cigarettes while surreptitiously looking at their reflections in the store front windows. I have noticed that their cigarettes are not the old Marlboro brand packaging but sleek rectangular cartons with bright colors and bold lettering that hold only 10 or so cigarettes. Even I feel enticed and marvel at such a marketing feat!

As we continue our journey we spy couples here and there kissing with passion and fervor. I make a comment about being annoyed and Siegy quickly snaps at me (as only family members can), “You’re in Italy for God’s sake; get over it”! We then begin a long family discourse, like the ones’ you swear you won’t have at Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner. We argue about public displays of affection, heterosexual privilege, and “taking back the night”. For a final verbal thrust, Siegy announces that we are just “bitter old women”; I tell her she only thinks this because she has a new boyfriend.

As we dart and flow through the maze of humanity, our back and forth family communication continues and gets louder as we use our hands to make important points. As I take a deep breath and look down at us from above, I realize that
she’s right. We are in Italy.