I am not a tourist here

Dante has pissed me off. No, really it is Benigni with his mouth open that has me sweating and swearing.

For thirteen nights, Roberto Benigni is reciting from the Divine Comedy in Piazza Santa Croce. Oh, yes, thrilling and significant and all of that. Let me tell you something dear reader, my life is hell (not sure which level yet). Combine the two and Santa Croce and sweltering heat and carabinari and event planners and — most of all — closed roads (!) and you may begin to see the miracle of me being able to leave my apartment. Sure, I’ll admit I was excited at first. Taking pride in my neighborhood and Santa Croce, etc. But after not being allowed to take a left or a right, being herded backwards towards Piazza Signora just to get to a street right next to Santa Croce, following the ambling fanning tourists, carrying a large bag, sweltering in the heat — I realized I had enough. These people need to get out of my town and let me enjoy my last few days here.

Does anyone else see the problem with this picture? If not, it involves my contempt for a cultural event, the inability to recognize this isn’t my home, and a big dash of intolerance not normal to my reserved acceptance of humanity.

But for now, I don’t think I’ll even attempt redemption.

5 responses to “I am not a tourist here

  1. I think living there for eight months qualifies you as not a tourist anymore. You aren’t touring right? Though your Italian neighbors may argue that you haven’t learned the language and there for haven’t yet crossed the line into resident . . . but really semantics.

  2. Is it not a little weird to use Benigni in this manner? Maybe there is something Dante-esque in the man that just doesn’t quite translate. . . .? I can’t quite get my head around a slapstick version of hell. Could be hellish, though, with all of the eye-poking and irritating banana slippage. Hmmm.

  3. Exactly my point. But anyway . . . I’m sure he is great — blah, blah, blah — still can’t get around my hood though. Escaping to the mountains this weekend.

  4. Ahhhh, the mountains how I would love to be in Mentone at this very moment. It must be in our genes (your maternal side) that we require the mountain air when in stress. Lucy is coming to Gulfport second week of August, she is taking a train to the farm on the 15th and will be here to help on dad’s campaign for a few weeks. I told her that iit is hot as hell, but she is a dutiful friend. She can’t wait to see you, needless to say neither can I. Your dad is counting the hours! Enjoy the mountains!

  5. Have a wonderful time in the mountains!

    Oh, and by the way, you should address me henceforth as The Empress.

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