Writing Assignment 10

I have come to the conclusion that making a successful attempt to verbalize a visual image that illustrates the essence of Italy is impossible. After spending time pondering and reflecting on the past three months, on what I have seen and learned, I still cannot pinpoint an image that sums up my experiences. However, for the sake of this assignment, I gave it a shot, but I am not completely satisfied with what I came up with.

After a long day of wandering Naples with Alexander Valentino, our last stop on the tour was the Castel dell’Ovo on the water. From the top was a stunning aerial view, allowing one to see the busy port, the strip of fancy hotels, and some of the residential areas of Naples. We had walked through the Spanish Quarter down what seemed like 1,000 steps in order to reach the castle. Only a few steps before we reached the castle, there was a sign that, in Italian, said “no parking or you will suffer death by gun.” We were warned about this area of town, that we should not go there alone, that it was extremely dangerous. Yet it was so close in geographical proximity to the higher end, touristy part of Naples. Seeing from the castle the image of high-density apartments with clothes hanging in all directions framed by the fancy hotels stuck out to me, and was only one of the many illustrations of the contradictions in Italian culture.

This simple image serves as a symbol that sums up (as accurately as I can describe) my experience in Italy, one of absolute contradiction and haziness, indescribable. I never came to a consensus of what makes someone “Italian”, what determines insider and outsider status, etc. But at the same time, after traveling through seven (yes seven – Italy, the Vatican, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, France, and Monaco) countries, Italy had a unique feel. I felt at home there, even with the incredible diversity, there was simply something comfortable about the place. Was it the people? The language? The food? I’m not what it was, but despite the immense diversity of the nation of Italy, there is some common thread, some unidentifiable part of each Italian and each aspect of the culture that builds the Italian identity.

Rione Trevi

The rione Trevi is one of the most diverse areas in city of Rome. Not only is it home to one of the most famous tourist attractions in Europe, but it also contains a plethora of famous art, the political hub of Quirinale hill, and multiple places of worship for the Catholics of the city.

The Trevi Fountain is a majestic sculpture created by the prolific artist, Bernini. It features Oceanus, the Greek river god, as he tames seahorses. The fountain is always surrounded by admiring viewers, regardless of the weather or time of day (or night). Where there are tourists sporting their fanny packs and flashy cameras, there are also vendors. They are selling colorful postcards, buzzing rocks, cheaply made magnets, and whenever there is a chance of rain in the near future, umbrellas. The superstitious toss coins into the fountain, one if they hope for a return trip to Rome, two if they are looking for a new romance, and three if they would like a marriage or divorce. It is said to be good luck to throw the coins from the right hand over the left shoulder. On average, over 3,000 euros worth of coins are thrown into the fountain each day and are used to subsidize a supermarket for people in need of food in Rome.

Directly across from the fountain is a little gem of a church called the Church of Saint Vicenzo and Anastacio that most tourists do not even notice. I found it unimpressive both on the outside and inside compared to many of Rome’s other magnificent churches, until I found out that it houses the hearts (called praecordia) of 40 popes, including Sixtus V and Leo XIII. Like many other places in Rome, I found this fascinatingly contradictory that such a holy place for the Catholics of Rome holding such important relics was located only within a few meters of a busy tourist hub. Many of the people who frequent this piazza are completely oblivious to the importance of the building behind them as they marvel at the beautiful marble fountain in front of them.

Only a few hundred meters away is the busy Via del Tritone, which leads to the Piazza Barberini. Below this piazza is one of the main metro stations in Rome, and it is also home to two fountains created by Bernini. The Triton Fountain is of a muscular merman on a shell with dolphins swimming below, and supposedly, it has the same luck as the Trevi Fountain, meaning that any tourist throwing a coin into the fountain will be granted a return trip to Rome. The Fontana delle Api is much less impressive artistically, but was built by Bernini as a water trough for horses coming through the area. Until the 18^th century, the piazza was where unknown corpses would be displayed for the public to identify. The Palazzo Barberini, which currently hosts the Galeria Nazionale de Arte Antica is a little bit east of the piazza. It is home to the famous Raphael painting of the female baker, and also has beautiful gardens behind. It is a classic example of the competition between Bernini and Borromini, and like usual, Bernini wins out in the end and gets to finish and receive credit for the work.

Down the Via del Quattro Fontane is a very scenic and historic intersection. From this point, you can see 3 Egyptian obelisks, as well as the 4 fountains that overlook the dangerous intersection. They were commissioned by Pope Sixtus V just before 1600, but the artists are unknown. The fountains are of the River Tiber which is the symbol of Rome, the River Arno which is the symbol of Florence, the Goddess Diana which is the symbol of Chastity, and the Goddess Juno, which is the symbol of strength. Next to these fountains are the churches Saint Carlo alla Quattro Fontane which was designed by Borromini, and Saint Andrea al Quririnale which was built by Bernini. The juxtaposition of the styles of these two churches is perfect for comparing the differences between the two artists. Saint Carlo is a fairly simple church using lots of white and undulating walls, where as Saint Andrea is elaborate and colorful, with a very short distance between the entrance and the high altar. It is fascinating to think that these two churches that so skillfully contrast the differences between the two prolific and competitive artists are so close to one another, they are basically right next door.

Quirinale Hill, the tallest of the seven hills in Rome, houses the President of Italy, Giorgio Napolitano, as well as the Italian Constitutional Court. The Quirinale Palace was built in the 14^th century as a summer home for the pope. In 1870, when the papal state was overthrown, the palace became the official royal residence of the kings of Italy, but some including Vittorio Emmanuel chose to live elsewhere. Currently it is the home of the president, and the flags above indicate whether or not the president is currently away. Italy has both a President and a Prime Minister (Berlusconi), but the President plays mainly a ceremonial role in the Italian government to represent national unity. Behind the palace are the lush Quirinale gardens, which are unfortunately not open to the public except for once a year on June 2^nd to celebrate the days that Italians chose a republican form of government.

In the middle of the piazza, there is a massive obelisk and statue of the mythical twins Castor and Pollux. The 18 foot tall sculptures are Roman replicas of Greek originals from the 5^th century B.C., but have been erected in the piazza for the past 450 years. The Palazzo della Consulta is the building that currently holds the Italian Constitutional Court. It consists of 15 judges, 1/3 are appointed by the president, 1/3 are appointed by parliament, and the rest by ordinary and administrative supreme courts. This court only decides the constitutionality of laws, and there is no appeal process. The Palazzo Pallavicini-Rospigliosi was commissioned by the Borghese family and was used as a stable for Quirinale Palace, but unfortunately it destroyed the remains of the Baths of Constantine. Now it is used as a gallery, and it currently holds a large compilation of works by Carvaggio.

There is no way to pinpoint the character of the neighborhood as a whole. It is so incredibly diverse, filled with historical churches and art, very little graffiti, a political center, an important tourist center, and busy urban streets. Every street corner has a bit of a different aura, most of the people that you come in contact with will have a unique story and personality. Trevi is definitely a neighborhood to visit on a short vacation, or one to frequent during a longer stay. I personally enjoyed becoming familiar with the neighborhood, and I feel that I was able make observations beside the magnificence of the Trevi Fountain by spending time exploring and relaxing in the neighborhood.

Fun Facts About Trevi:

·      Michelangelo lived in Trevi for a while, and was buried in the Santi Apostoli church in this neighborhood before his body was moved to Florence.

·      The rione used to be home to a large pasta factory, but it had to shut down a few years ago.

·      The coat of arms consists of 3 swords, which corresponds to the three roads that meet in the Piazza del Crociferi near the Trevi fountain

·      The police who protect the area are a special branch of the Caribinieri called to Corrazzieri. In order to join this branch, one must be at least 6’3”.

Writing Assignment 9

            Borders. Others. Outsiders. Insiders. Contradictions. Divisions. Ambiguity. Fluidity. These words have become the buzzwords of the trip, the clichés that are said over and over as we discuss Italian identity. I can’t help but smirk when somebody uses one of these words. But in reality, there is no other way to describe many of the aspects of the life and identity of a true Roman without resorting to the use of these words. In a country so dependent on foreigners to support their economy and health care system, why is there such widespread resentment against those who are not originally from Italy? How probable is it that the Italians will begin progress towards an attitude of acceptance in the near future?

            In a sense we are all outsiders of some sort. There is no human that exists that fits the mold of an insider in all respects. We all have our flaws, our rough edges, but that is what makes us unique. Many, including Romans and myself, forget to realize the necessity and appreciate the variety provided by diversity. Before coming to Rome, I had an image in my head of how to easily identify a Roman; the Italian Stallion, a tall, dark, and handsome sweet talker. “You better not come home with a boyfriend,” warned my father. As I scrambled around the airport gathering my bags after I had landed, I observed the people but I did not see any men that I found particularly attractive. Instead, the airport was filled with tourists, families speaking a variety of languages, and older couples. During the first week of the program, I kept my eyes peeled for attractive me, people had made it sound like Italy was just teeming with eligible bachelors. Somewhat disappointed, I realized that, in general, Rome is like many other places, every person does not fit the mold of the Italian Stallion.

            This leads to the question that we began debating at the beginning of the course: what defines a person as “Italian”? Is it their birthplace? Skin color and physical appearance? Location of residence? Language? I wish I had come to a concrete conclusion, but I have not. After doing my independent research on immigrant women, I am still awestruck and confounded by this deep question, and not only as it applies in Italy. It all ties into the overarching theme of insiders and outsiders. I have observed this same phenomenon at home, but I was not expecting to see it here in Italy. I was oblivious to the issues regarding racism and immigration before I came, and I was under the impression that there was a set Italian identity. But obviously this is not the case.

            Depending how one defines the term “Italian”, I could possibly be considered Italian. I have lived here the past three months and have a very limited proficiency in the language, enough to get me by. The Bangledeshi immigrant selling arm fulls of umbrellas could be considered Italian. The Nigerian woman who has lived in Italy for 30 years and works in the embassy could be considered Italian. The University of Roma student who can trace his full-blooded Italian heritage back 10 generations could be considered Italian. The American student who has never been to Italy but is 1/16^th Italian could also be considered Italian. It all depends on perception and individual opinion. Different people perceive and define things in different ways, and this causes problems when people are unable to accept and respect the views of others.

            Visiting Rome as an outsider (I know, cliché, but I couldn’t think of a better word), I noticed the blatant racism of many natives towards immigrants. The government is set up in a way that does not encourage foreign workers to thrive, regardless of the immense contribution that they make to Italian society. Foreign caregivers save the Italian economy over 1 billion euros a year that would be spent funding Skilled Nursing Facilities. Immigrants fill the positions that native Italians are unwilling to fill. But, mainly from fear of being overtaken is my guess, Italians treat their immigrant population poorly in general.

            Being removed from my comfortable environment in the United States, I realized that I am often guilty of the possessing some of the same ideas that I accuse Italians of having. Coming from a very conservative family, I have grown up adopting many conservative ideals as my own. I never had harsh feelings towards immigrants per se, but I never was able to see the benefits of having a diverse society and appreciating immigrants for the assistance that they provide our economy and society as a whole. After studying the predicaments suffered by immigrants in Italy and learning about all that they provide to the Italian economy, I gained a new appreciation for the assistance that immigrants provide my community back at home. After experiencing the challenges of being an outsider in a foreign country (as a student, not even as an immigrant), I have come away with a renewed compassion and welcoming spirit for foreigners who come to my home, whether it be to work, visit, or study. 

Writing Assignment 7 and 8

“For he who returns to thoughts of Naples can never be unhappy.” – Unknown

 

            This quote perfectly sums up my feelings about the city of Naples, a fascinatingly complex city, the definition of an ambiguous place. After we got to Naples and were quickly walking towards our hostel, I was constantly looking over my shoulder and checking my pockets. After hearing a story about a woman being dragged by her hair, being told to leave all valuables back in Rome, and reading news stories about race riots in the south, I was terrified of the Neapolitan culture. I envisioned that the people who I would come in contact with would be racist, cold-hearted, cruel, and selfish.

            Arriving to a labor strike that was causing a traffic nightmare, we were welcomed to the city by thick, stale air and a symphony of car horns. “This is definitely a faster paced city than Rome,” I thought to myself. After making the trek to our hostel, we were greeted by a smiley receptionist. From that point on, I can honestly say that I did not meet one soul the entire rest of the weekend that I spent in southern Italy who did not treat me with kindness that extended above and beyond what I personally would consider normal. After a windy two-hour bus ride to the small community of Maiori, Erika and I were utterly exhausted and couldn’t figure out where our bed and breakfast was located. We asked a middle-aged woman,

“Dov’e il Palazzo Coco B&B?”

“Ah Antonio!” she exclaimed as she whipped out her cell phone to call him. She walked us to the massive church in the middle of the community where Antonio met us, kindly offering to carry both of our bags up the 150 stairs to his place. From our friendly waiter at dinner who offered us free dessert after we had eaten all of our food to the knowledgeable man who showed us around the housing complex in the periphery of Naples, nobody that I came in contact with in southern Italy spoke to me rudely or treated me with any degree of disrespect.

This was exactly opposite of the way that I expected to be treated, I was anticipating someone to get their wallet stole, planning to hear gunshots every so often. I cannot deny the fear that accompanied the unfamiliarity of Naples. I was afraid that I would be in danger, that I would not enjoy the things that we did in class, skeptical of the cleanliness of our hostel, anxious about traveling independently on the weekend. All of these aversions were completely invalid as I can truthfully state that this past weekend was one of the most eye-opening and breathtaking experiences that I have had in a while, both in class and traveling on my own.

I cannot describe my impressions upon seeing the “greatest architectural mistake in all of Italy.” In one building, 1,200 people could live, meaning that if these structures were built in my hometown, it would only take 5 of them to contain the entire population. They looked like a cross between military barracks and dorm rooms, but much dirtier and more unkempt than either of these options. A complex network of staircases and bridges connected the apartments, and it seemed that a family would enjoy very little privacy. If a city was truly pressed for space, this option would be ideal. But how humane is this living situation, especially with plenty of space surrounding this building project? I was utterly amazed by the poor shape that the grounds were in, supposedly it had not been cleaned or kept up in the past 30 years. Looking at the outer part of the building, every few windows were shattered. Stained clothes hung outside the windows. Doors were chained shut with padlocks. I was not surprised to learn that people were not willing to pay the Italian government to live there because of the conditions. I was fascinated to see this different way of living, to see the contrast between this housing structure and others that I had seen in Rome and Naples. It was refreshing to see the opposite of the “bella figura” for once.

Beneath the façade of a middle-aged man who enjoyed talking about the drug trade and used curse words often, Alexander Valentino, our tour guide/ guest speaker was extremely clever and insightful. Speaking about the race riots in the south, he emphasized the involvement of the Comorra and how widespread their influence is on political and social life in Naples. “It is not the common Italian people, and race isn’t necessarily the issue,” he said. “The government chooses to look the other way as homes of foreign workers burn so that they can continue development in this area.” Hearing this and judging from my own experiences in southern Italy, I realized the generalizations that I and others had made about the entire Neapolitan culture were not completely true. Yes, the crime rate is higher. But the majority of people exude a kindness that is unique to the region, one that I had never been the recipient of before. I also realized that I tend to do this in other situations, when someone tells me that they had a bad experience with something or someone (a teacher, place, etc.), I assume that all things associated with this thing are unpleasant, that I will have the exact same experience, and this causes me to miss out on experiences that I would have otherwise. People are unique, complex beings who cannot fit into any single mold. They behave differently in varied environments, possess unique morals, and are defined by their life experiences. People that belong to a certain group cannot all fit inside a certain mold. I personally had my own idea of what a Neapolitan would be like, and I did not meet one person who fit that stereotype.

In short, my expectations of this past weekend did not align with the conditions and events that I actually experienced. In a city with a high crime rate, I met some of the most patient and gentle people that I have encountered in Italy thus far. I preferred walking around the supposedly “sketchy” area of the Spanish quarter and observing the lifestyles of authentic Italians over looking at paintings and statues in the Archaeological museum. I had the opportunity to lay out in the blazing seventy degree sun in February. Rome seems different now, still like home, but not quite as the superior city that I had seen it as before. Naples, a city that effectively handles the issues of the Camorra, the pressures of being in the shadow of Vesuvius, and the expectations of those in the North, has pleasantly surprised me with its genuine spirit, and I hope to soon return.

 

My Interpretation of 2 short stories from Multicultural Literature

"Home..sickness" 

Page 91, by Kossi Komla-Ebri

“Ah Italy! To think that in Italy I wanted so much to go home! Now I feel like a tenant in two countries: sometimes I’m happy for that, sometimes I feel divided, a little unbalanced, as if a part of me remained there, and yet I know that there I would have still suffered from “mal di Africa” (nostalgia for exotic life they had in Africa)”

This story is about Kossi’s stay in Italy and her integration back into the African culture. Her first impressions of Italy was that it was a place where” everyone must think of himself, end of story.” It was cold and unwelcoming. Her efforts at integration were admirable, and she worked hard and learned the trade of sewing. But upon her return to Africa, things had changed. Her experiences had changed her as a person (she could no longer tolerate life without commodities such as heat and running water), and time had changed things back at home in Africa (most of her friends were married and had multiple babies). She moves to the city and has a successful career as a seamstress, but still has nostalgia for Italian life. I imagine that life would be much different for her had she never gotten the opportunity to travel to Europe, even though most of her time there was spent completing domestic chores.

This story is applicable to our experiences as travelers. Though it won’t be to the same extent that Kossi experienced this phenomenon, when we return home, things will be different. Italy has changed us, and time has changed conditions at home. Though I am excited to go home and see people and return to life in Seattle, I am nervous to integrate back into American culture. I know that I will experience that same nostalgia for Italy experienced by Kossi.

"M" 

P 114 by Ron Kubati

“The first thing I see when I wake up is the window. It shows me which room I’m in, and consequently the kind of world waiting for me outside. It tells me where and therefore who I am.”

To be honest, this story confused me quite a bit. Ron begins by discussing how where he is allows him to understand which role he is playing, which Ron he is being. Then he vividly discusses the Metro, how it is a small world beneath the city, how every type of person is present down there. Every stop looks the same underground, but above they vary greatly. He then talks about how children, when fed up with their family, often assume they were adopted and never told of it.  “The claim to another origin is the optimistic rejection of fundamental discomfort.” I don’t really see the parallel between these three ideas, but I’m curious to see if any of my classmates chose this story and what they thought of it.

Italian Immigrant Life Illustrated Through a Visit to the Esquilino Market: Where Are All the Women?

1.     Introduction to Esquilino Market, description, observations, discuss how few women are present in the market

2.     Describe the few women who ARE present in the market (using my own observations from visits to the market)

3.     Discuss why there are so few women in the marketplace/ where they are (use the answers provided by Ms. Dinh when she e-mails back, stuff from Mirela Pribac’s lecture about the Roma people)

4.     Talk about the occupations that female immigrants hold (information from Ms. Dinh, Maria Teresa Natale, various online articles)

a.     Caregiver

b.     Staying at home to care for the children

c.      Others?

5.     Discuss where the women come from and why there is a huge difference between countries in the percent of immigrants that are female versus male (information from Ms. Dinh)

a.     How common is it for women to come to Italy alone or do they often come with family? Do they usually come with the intent to stay for long, or just to work and send money back?

b.     How prevalent is human trafficking? Ms. Dinh spoke about how 80% of female immigrants to Italy have been raped, discuss the lasting social and psychological effects of this on women

Writing Assignment 6

            What automatically comes to mind when you think about the rione Trevi? For me, without a doubt, it is the Trevi Fountain. It is an obvious staple of Roman history, the majestic monument that the rione was named after. Although this fountain is the most well known feature of the neighborhood, there are multiple other hidden gems scattered throughout the area. Across from the fountain is the Church of Saint Vicenzo and Anastacio, where the hearts (these muscles that pump blood throughout the body are seen as relics for the Catholic Church) of over 30 popes reside. Close to the magnificent fountain, near the Piazza dei Croceferi, is the Quirinal Hill and Palace, where the president of the nation resides. Across the rione is the intersection of Quattro Fontane, where from the middle one has a view of the Quirinal Palace, the Spanish Steps, and the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore. Lastly, the Palazzo Barberini holds the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica, as well as the renowned Fountain of Trition created by Bernini.

            My first journey through this neighborhood was an accident, the first two weeks that I lived in Rome I was in a constant state of wandering. I was trying to find the Pantheon, but apparently went too far. As I walked through the Piazza dei Croceferi, I heard gushing water and loud chatter. The people were giddy, it is difficult to describe the aura of enchantment that surrounded the area. I had heard the fountain described as “magical” and seen pictures, but I was still not adequately prepared to view this masterpiece. Even on a drizzly Thursday afternoon, as I walked from the right hand corner of the fountain, I saw an enormous crowd of people smiling and pointing.  Most had brightly colored umbrellas and were flashing portraits in front of the fountain with their cameras. I witnessed a few people throwing coins into the fountain, which according to a legend, when done with the right hand over the left shoulder, ensures one’s return visit to Rome. Three thousand Euros worth of coins are thrown into the fountain each day, and this money is used to subsidize a supermarket for the needy.

            As I approached the fountain to see it for myself, I was utterly amazed. I’m not sure what exactly makes the fountain itself so renowned, maybe the sheer size, possibly the detail and mystical nature of the figures. The water appeared unnaturally blue and spotlessly clean. It glimmered with the reflection of thousands of coins. The opaque white marble of the fountain added to the clean appearance overall. The emotion of the figures and the complexity of the composition add to the  magnificence of the piece. In short, before I visited the fountain, I was skeptical that it could be described as “magical” as my friend had put it, I envisioned it to be simply an overrated symbol of the city of Rome. On my first visit, I was taken aback by the splendor and beauty of the piece.

            Upon returning to the rione, this time during the early evening, I was still amazed by the brilliance of the statue. It was different at night, still the center of attention and being adored by hundreds of people, but it had a different sense of mystery. The multiple spotlights enhanced the white marble, the blue water reflected the image of the figures, and the dark night juxtaposed the gleaming light of the fountain. This time, I paid increased attention to the people who were gazing at the monument, and I listened intently. “Oh my god! This is so surreal that we are actually here,” was one of the comments I heard beside me in a deep British accent. Nearly every person was holding a camera. There were families and there were couples, and there were a few people, who like me, were at the monument alone. Even on a chilly evening in late January, the plaza in front of the fountain was on the crowded side. I cannot imagine how packed it is on a hot summer day.

            I have returned to the fountain a few times since then and observed similar situations of awe and admiration. For me, the fountain maintains its majesty every time I return, but from my observations, the people who frequent the monument are not necessarily what I would consider Italian. After living in Seattle my entire life, I’m going to admit that I have never been to the top of the Space Needle. It is magnificent, it attracts tourists, but it does not represent the typical culture of Seattle at all, just as the Trevi Fountain is not a crucial part of every day Roman life. At the first glance, the rione Trevi simply seems like a tourist area, not a region rich in legitimate Italian culture. And to be honest, I have not ventured much within the neighborhood besides the vicinity directly around the fountain. But in the next few weeks I plan to explore the less well-known areas of this rione, to see what those who are in Rome for only a few days do not get the opportunity to observe.