Who are the Romans?

In the mist of madness and chaos of preparations for the sudden Heads of State Summit in Rome to address the food price crisis I am still enjoying the intense smell of jasmine while driving back and forward in front of the Colloseum on my old motorino... Sleep deprived from the late night work sessions I pick up a newspaper in the coffee bar across from my office. Suddently I can't finish my caffe machiato. I see the flashes of fascist salutes from the demonstration wittnessed a few years back in the middle of a major piazza in Rome. I choke on the coffee. I order a glass of water from the tap which Romans jokingly call "da sindaco" - meaning "from the mayor of Rome". THe tap water is still drinkable but the sindaco or the mayor of Rome has changed. For the first time since I live in Rome which has now been more than 8 years - the new mayor belongs to the neo-fascist party. This news didn't bother me so much as I could understand the disillusionment of Italians with their stagnant center-left political system bringing some on the verge of radicaly wrong voting choices. What schocked me is the anti-immigrant discourse that has suddenly turned into acts of violence that this city has not yet seen.

"Fears of rising intolerance towards migrants in Italy grew after a masked group armed with sticks went on the rampage in a multi-ethnic Rome neighbourhood, smashing shop windows while hurling abuse.
In the 10-minute blitz on Saturday, the group of between 10 and 20 men attacked a food shop owned by an Indian migrant and two stores operated by Bangladeshis, disappearing before police arrived.
The assault comes as Silvio Berlusconi's administration launches a crackdown on illegal immigration, and days after a mob firebombed Gypsy camps in Naples. Last month crowds at Rome's town hall welcomed newly-elected mayor Gianni Alemanno with fascist salutes." quoting the paper....

As a white blonde with a semi-stable job it shouldn't bother me, right? Everything is normal, right? Yet, the history of scapegoating makes me sick to my stomach. Only the other night I have witnessed one of the most amazing tributes to the diversity of Rome in the performance of its famous Orchestra di Piazza Vittorio. The blending of musicians from Senegal, Tunisia, Peru, Hungary, US, Brazil and Cuba among others who have created some of the most spectacular world tune rhythms thanks to the courage and creative vision of one Italian orchestra director.

I go to the Piazza Vittorio market whenether I manage to wake up early enough on Saturday or have to cook anything requring any spices from any corner of the earth... The contrast with the disgust at the political discourse that seeks to blame the frustrations of an average Italian with the country's economic and political crisis on the immigrants - the useful scapegoat they are and have always been. On Sunday my American friend tells me: "it is amazing how you can see the history of Rome on the faces of Romans - they came literally from everywhere". Roma. Romans. Who are we?
As you, my beloved Eternal City, open your doors to welcome farmers, delegates and journalists from all around the world next week; as your beauty lies in your openness to travel. "All roads lead to Rome" -. "tutte le strade portano a Roma" - this is precisely the story of the musicians from Piazza Vittorio and this is the story of the millions that have chose you as home since the time of Romulus...
Stand up and defend your open window to the world.

Freedom is a luxury...

Oh, my dearest 3 or 4 devoted venting expat readers - this is just to re-confirm my commitment to this blog and to assure that despite my long silence it has hardly been heartlessly abandoned.


31, so far, has been my age of disillusionment and of the intense recognition of how prescious my little freedoms are. Of how I am willing and ready to compromise and give some of them up for the sake of a healthy attachment - as long as that would not result in compromising the essence of who I am. I thank the flying confessions project - the film made about women like me for women like me: the travels, the conversations and above all the goal: to let go of fear. THe fear that we have been tought, the fear that has been installed in us, the fear that results from all of the unnecessary suffering of the female kind. Freedom is a luxury that I am only learning how to use...and it exciting...

And I look forward to passing the camera myself...you can learn more at www.flyingconfessions.org