Flashbacks and Distant Memories!

Diario di Roma Tre
Sunday March 19, 2017
Cloudy 57°F/14°C in Roma, Lazio, Italia 00143
Mostly Clear 67°F/19°C in Cedar Park, Texas 78613
Buongiorno,
       La chiava rossa si apre la porta d’ingresso! My son Michael was giving me a combination tour of my new apartment and another Italian lesson. (The RED key opens the entrance door). La

Mike, Bike & Tiny Elevator

grande chiava, piatta apre la porto corridoio dell’appartamento. E la chiave d’argento apre la porta al suo interno. (The big, flat key opens the hallway door to the apartment, and the silver key opens the inside door).
       I think that one of the reasons why I enjoy my visits to Rome so much is that I am reminded of my early days in New York City. I had graduated from high school, and was going to a broadcasting school in mid-town Manhattan trying to jumpstart my career in radio. After growing up in a small town about one hundred miles east of Manhattan, I was on my own going to school in the Big Apple. Now, I am sixty-something years past that youthful experience, and once again, on my own and experiencing life in a big city, Rome!

Big cities seem to breed small apartments, and mine is no exception. Michael and Laura found this one for me through AirBnB, the internet rental. It’s in a large building along Vialle delle Oceano Atlantico in the EUR district of Rome, just a few blocks from the Laurentina metro stazione, at the end of the Metro B line. EUR (roughly pronounced air) is a residential and business district

My Neighborhood

south of Rome’s center. It was developed back in the 1930s as the designated site for the 1942 World’s Fair, which Benito Mussolini envisioned as a showcase for his  Fascist Paradise, but World War II put an end to il Duce’s bright idea. EUR stands for Esposizione Universale Roma. (Pardon the digression into Roman trivia, but EUR has mystified me since my first visit. Laura finally explained part of my mystery. I also used Google).

Coincidentally, many years ago, I had another small apartment in an area designated as a World’s Fair site – the Flushing section of Queens, in New York City. That was the site of the 1939 New York World’s Fair (the last before WW2 captured the world’s attention) and the 1964-65 New York World’s Fair. My new digs are on the sixth floor of the building, which requires a ride in a tiny elevator slightly larger than the phone booth that Clark Kent used to change clothes in. My kitchen is a reflection of that European scale of living. I have a small table and two chairs along with a sink, a washing machine, and a small refrigerator topped by a small microwave, a two burner electric hot plate on the counter top shoe-horned into a room about 6 feet by 7 feet. Unlike my two bedroom Texas apartment back home, my Rome digs has no dishwasher. Dishes are handwashed and drip-dryed in a rack installed in the cabinet above the sink. Italians, as I discovered on my previous trips,

My Tiny Kitchen

do not believe in clothes dryers. Laundry is done in the washing machine and then dried on portable drying racks like my mom used to do when she was first married in New York City. The scaled-down size of the appliances, like the fridge reflect the fact that everything has to be brought up in that tiny elevator. There are no oversize freight elevators.

There’s another thing that takes a little getting used to. The heat comes on only at certain times of the day for the comfort of the residents, and is turned off for the night around 11 p.m. or Midnight. That’s why I not only have a quilt on the bed, but an extra blanket and I’m wearing pajamas for the first time since I was a little kid. The bathroom is built on the same scale as a bathroom in an American motor home.  I have to carefully plan my turn-arounds in the tiny doccia, or shower. But, it is a well lit, airy little apartment and I am quite comfortable in it. But, I am looking forward to my big two bedroom, two bath with living room, full kitchen and washer-dryer steps away from the dishwasher apartment in Texas.

       My landlord, Kurt, another American ex-pat lives on the top floor just above. One Friday, he and Amina invited Michael and I up for a little nosh and a little socializing to welcome me to Rome. Kurt has lived in Rome for 28  years and as we talked about life’s roads that we’ve both traveled we discovered that we both grew on Long Island within miles of each other. The charming Amina is originally from Morocco and speaks several languages, Italian and French among them. A delightful evening, even after the conversation turned to American politics. Everywhere I go – when the locals hear my American accent, I am asked what I think about the new U.S. President. Then they will tell me that Italy survived Berlusconi. America will survive Donald Trump! Emilio Berlusconi is the egotistical media mogul who was the two-term President of Italy and is now being prosecuted for corruption. Not to worry, Mike. Romans are survivors as are Americans! You’ll be OK. Well, enough of that. After all, this IS a vacation for me.
        One of my British ex-pat acquaintances is also a journalist. At our ex-pat get together John invited me to a benefit concert for a group of fellow journalists who are being sued by the United Nations Food Program. Who’s being sued, I asked. Well. There’s ME, replied John, and several others. So, several days later, Michael and I and Laura, and Beppe Cassa, one of the other musicians from No Funny Stuff trooped dutifully to a Rome nightclub for dinner and an evening of vintage American Jazz and Folk Singing by Brit Simon Finn who flew in from London especially to lend his support to John, his long time friend. The evening reminded me of long-ago nights in various pubs in the heart of Greenwich Village in the late 1950s, when an as-yet-unknown folk singer named Bob Dylan was singing his heart out for tips at the Café Wha?
         This is now about my fifth or sixth trip to Rome, Michael has been here for the past fourteen years, working as a teacher and tour guide. Laura was born here. So, it’s safe to say they both know

Michael, Laura and Me

the city very well. I’m getting more and more familiar with it with every visit. Most vacationers see it only once, usually on a very overcrowded travel schedule that sees them dashing from one city to the next trying to cram as much adventure as they can into two or three weeks, not counting time out to deal with jet lag. But, people like Michael who actually live here begin to experience Rome in all its nuances. That’s what I am beginning to experience as well. So instead of booking into a four or five-star hotel with all the other American tourists, I’ve settled into a small Roman apartment in a neighborhood where I can shop or walk for blocks without hearing any English spoken. I’m beginning to see Rome as it really is, and I am becoming even more enamored of it. Next time I’ll take you to a place where relatively few tourists venture because it's away from the center of the city, and introduce you to an Emperor who built a wall to keep out intruders. ‘Nuff said!
Ciao,  
MikeBo

[Mike Botula is the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target!  (Amazon Books)  MikeBo’s Blog is a wholly owned subsidiary of his web site www.mikebotula.com

© By Mike Botula 2016