Rome blog page 2

Strike!

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 07:03:19 +0100

Strike!

Sciopero! One of the very first words I learned in Italian. I was a student in Florence at the time and it seemed like there was a bus strike – every darn week. When my parents came to visit, their flight back on Alitalia was cancelled because of a strike. The ticket agent consoled them: “Don’t worry, this happens all the time. Its good news for you because it means you get to enjoy our beautiful country for a few days more and you get to postpone your return to work!” This was 1994. You’d think in the 15 years since, the various unions would have ironed out their contractual issues, but no. Things in Italy seem to only have gotten worse (especially with Alitalia). The strange thing is that since then, they keep on re-electing the same tired ineffectual politicians and they keep on striking. Its almost as if they…well, they enjoy the sciopero. And is it a coincidence they almost always happen on Friday?

One of the reasons for Italy’s sciopero obsession is a longtime tradition of protecting workers (even at the expense of consumers) that gives people the strange idea that they’ve the right to campaign for better conditions. Not really such a crazy idea in itself, and there is also a strong tradition of communism here (albeit the Italian variety). But like everything else, some good ideas have been taken to extremes. Everyone but everyone goes on strike, including white-collar workers like lawyers and pharmacists, and traditionally capitalistic workers like gas station owners and taxi drivers and even people you’d never even imagine like the guys who dress up like Roman centurions outside the coliseum. A former colleague of mine once showed up for a court hearing in (in Italy, being involved in a lawsuit means you’ll probably be dead before its over) only to find that the judges had gone on strike! Clearly there is a social problem here…or is it just a socially acceptable way of getting the day off with your buddies?

While transit strikes, often unannounced, can freeze Italian city centers, residents have long gotten used to this inconvenience and have learned to expect the unexpected. Of course taxis go on strike too, but who really notices when there is a shortage of cabs to begin with? But yesterday I saw something that I’ve never seen before – the highway into Rome was completely blocked by Mercedez-Benzs and BMWs: livery car drivers upset about the recent drop in tourism and wanting government benefits for compensation. All commuters stranded. This Benz-Beemer roadblock repeated itself every kilometer. And in the midst of it all, there was a single police car – cop’s head yelling out the window at one of the cabbies. Cabbie yelling back. That was the only official response to this un-scheduled, illegal, highly disruptive strike, but then I’ve heard that the police have staged their own scioperi. Ok, so maybe tax evasion isn’t Italy’s only national past time.

Are all these strikes actually accomplishing anything? They don’t seem to, but then the point of most is to prevent change – like decreasing benefits or increasing business competition. In Italy, no change is usually good news. But in the new climate of financial crisis, we can expect more strikes and disruptions like the livery drivers’ – calls for greater government support in the face of a faltering economy. The irony is that these indignant strikers have just re-elected yet again a government that is not only free-market but denies a financial crisis even exists. At least they got to stop traffic for awhile.

Check out Rome : Alive! often for updated information on strikes.

Termini

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 17:04:07 +0100

First of all, thanks to those who have written in through the Rome : Alive! Facebook Group to comment on our posted videos. Anyone who is not already a member of the group can join in order to receive news and updates (just sign up to Facebook and then search for the Rome : Alive! Group). Many of you found the airport video to be especially useful and suggested making a similar piece about the train station. While that is in the works, I thought I’d pass on some info about that labyrinthine and downright confusing place, which is actually chock full of interesting stuff.

Termini is Rome’s main terminus (although that’s not where it gets its name from – termini refer the series of little baths that formed part of the enormous bath complex of Diocletian, which was located on the site nearly 2000 years ago). The first Termini was built in 1867 shortly after the unification of Italy, when Rome became the capital of a new nation. But the burgeoning city soon outgrew it. However, with two world wars and a lot of upheaval, the new Termini was not inaugurated until 1950. With a mix of styles reflecting its design and construction from the 1930s to the 1950s, Termini’s curiously curving atrium has stood the test of time better than many other 20^th century train stations, and a recent revamp has given it a lot of cool new shops and services. You still need to keep a firm hand on your bags, but its now safer than it used to be, with cops and “customer service reps” milling about amiably.

The best way to approach Termini if you’re outbound from Rome is by rail – it is served by both of Rome’s Metro lines as well as a host of commuter trains that serve stations within the city. Bus routes to Termini are notoriously show and full of pickpockets. Once you’ve arrived at the station, there are many new ticket machines in the main atrium where you can buy tickets without having to stand in line at the notoriously nightmarish ticket counters (just push the Union Jack on the screen for English). Bathrooms are located on either side of station on the lower level – there is a charge, but they are usual clean, which makes them a better bet than going on the train.

While you await your train, head down to the lower concourse underneath Binario (Track) 1, where the full-service Conad supermarket offers food (including hot pizza), drinks and other supplies at a much lower price than the other outlets in the station. Or head to the opposite end to the Ala Mazzoniana, a gorgeous arched hallway along Via Giolitti where you can pick up clothes at Upim department store, find a bancomat (ATM machine) or, on the lower level, leave your luggage for a few hours. There are occasional art exhibits here as well. Car rental agencies are also located in this area, and a brand-new restaurant and wine bar in one end of this amazing space looks like its too hip for Rome. In 2009, a full-service spa facility is scheduled to open – now that’s waiting out your train delay in style!

The station’s informative, if strangely translated website has some great photos, etc.

See no evil, hear no evil…

Sat, 01 Nov 2008 20:14:22 +0100

See no evil, hear no evil…

There you are on the wide, flat beach – it’s empty. You have the whole place to yourself, or so you think. Just then a large raucous family arrives and plops down right next to you with their cooler and boom box, then another, and another. Are they insane? Quite possibly, from an Anglo-Saxon point of view. But from their point of view, maybe they just thought you looked a little bit lonely. The same thing could happen in a movie theatre, in a cemetery, in a car! Try this little trick if you don’t believe it: stare into any shop window in central Rome – no matter how mundane the merchandise. Chances are when you turn back around, there will be at least three people standing behind you, at close range. Why are they there? Because you’re there.

Although Italian culture might look like other Western cultures, don’t be fooled. There are some major differences and you’re lucky to encounter them just when you don’t want to. To say that Italians don’t have any real sense of personal space is an understatement. Italians actually like to be near each other, and even you, if you are among them. They also like to stand unnervingly close to you while giving directions or chatting about the weather. Two weeks after I arrived here, I was having lunch with an Italian woman who I had just met – she reached over and put her hand on my thigh to emphasize a point. I jumped three feet in the air. You might also see two strait men walking arm-in-arm in the street or giving each other backrubs at a party. This is as normal as walking to a bar for the first time and hearing: “Dimmi tutto bello!” (tell me everything, beautiful!) from the barman.

But just when your skin is about to crawl from being crowded in the 8 tram with a zillion people who want to stand in your corner (better make sure that your pocket isn’t being picked) ah, the silver lining: the squardo. As part of Italians desire to be close to their fellow man (or woman), eye contact is done here, even between strangers. Now this could (and will) mean a creepy guy or evil old woman staring at you all the way home – or – catching the glance of a very sexy guy in an Armani suit with an oh-so-playful look on his face. Once you get over the intensity of it, it can really be quite fun. It’s a safe and fun way to exchange sensual energy without upsetting your spouse or partner, who might be right at your side when it happens. By the way, flirting is permitted too – here, it’s a national pastime (second only to tax evasion).

In the midst of all this touching and flirting, there are some dangers of course. The most obvious is the men on the bus who think its perfectly normal to grope women – even nuns (I’ve seen it!). Ladies, in the Italian spirit of frankness, don’t spare this pervert’s feelings – tell him to vai via (or vaffanculo!) in your loudest voice. And don’t be surprised if you are ever approached in a piazza by a very honest and forthright young man who confides that he thinks you’re beautiful and really wants to sleep with you – he’s probably very relieved to find an ‘approachable’ foreign lady. “Sono sposata” (I’m married) will usually give him the picture. If not, you can always test out your new Italian heel on him.

Roma for Roma?

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 22:27:37 +0200

On one of my first trips into Rome from the airport, I noticed from the train a filthy encampment of broken down trailers and makeshift shacks; there were naked children playing in the dirt next to some overflowing outhouses. I was shocked that this kind of poverty existed in the Italy of Gucci and Prada. Upon my arrival in the centre of Rome, I saw children just like these dressed in rags jostling newspapers in front of unsuspecting tourists while other kids picked their pockets – a mom was begging pathetically outside a nearby church. It was the middle of a weekday; these kids should have been in school. A friend told me that these were these were gypsies – the Roma – those elusive folks who might look into a crystal ball and tell your fortune – but how did things get this bad?

The Roma or Romani people are thought to have migrated from northern India nearly 1,000 years ago and have been present in Italy since the renaissance – indeed one of Caravaggio’s most famous works hanging in the Capitoline Museums depicts a Roma woman reading a young man’s palm as she deftly slides the ring off his finger. But in addition to their reputation as being less-than-trustworthy, the Roma are also known for their rich culture and music (and indeed gypsy bands can still be heard performing a rousing folkdance in Campo de’ Fiori some evenings).

In recent years, with increased migration from Eastern Europe and the entrance of Romania into the EU, the Roma population in Italy has swelled. The country is now home to roughly 150,000; most live in squalid ‘campi nomadi’ on the outskirts of the city, without running water other basic services, (although there are some wealthier camps where Mercedes-Benz and other nice cars can be seen outside the dwellings). The eyesore camp I encountered on my way from the airport has now been moved behind a hill, out of sight of the airport train. But many more camps exist on the outskirts of Rome without even basic services.

To say the Roma people have been marginalized in Italy is an understatement: they live on the fringes of a prosperous society without any hope of education or legal employment. Some are involved in rackets like collecting money to “watch” your car in a free public parking area, which strangely, the police do not seem to mind. In recent months, however, Rome’s newspapers have become filled with alarming stories about the Roma. In Naples this year, one camp was recently burned by an angry mob after a rumour spread that a Romani woman had tried to steal and Italian baby (the urban legend about gypsies stealing babies is widespread and repeated to young mothers here by just about everyone).

While the EU takes a closer look at the situation for Roma people in Italy, their situation is not likely to improve. And amid all the tough talk of Rome’s new city Government, tourists are still bound to encounter little scamps with quick hands in city squares and train stations. But ultimately it is the city and national governments themselves that must come to grips the simmering crisis of a marginalized cultural minority precariously existing under their bridges, in their junkyards, around the rough edges of la dolce vita.

An interesting video tour of a Roma camp including interviews (in Italian) with its residents, can be found HYPERLINK "http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=TyOigLtVHDk&feature=related" here.

Staying alive in the eternal city: What if you get sick in Rome

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 00:23:22 +0200

True story: A successful American television producer comes to Rome for the funeral of Pope John Paul II, eats some bad fast food, gets horribly ill, vomits and faints. His colleagues rush him to the nearest hospital, Santo Spirito, where they just take his blood every morning and do nothing else. After three days, he feels better and decides to leave, stopping on the way out to pay or at least provide his insurance. They just laugh and wave him off.

Another true story: A successful American business man working in Rome has chest pains, is afraid it’s his heart. He remembers an ad he saw for an American Hospital where English is spoken. He calls a taxi and tells the driver to get him there. The taxista drives 45 minutes to a remote area at the edge of the city, then drops him off, charging 50 Euros. He checks in – not a single soul at the ‘American Hospital’ speaks English. One expat’s blood got ‘lost’ at Rome’s largest university hospital following her surgery. I could go on and on. So what do you do? I mean, people get sick here all the time and they don’t all die. What happens if you or your child gets sick in the middle of the night on a Sunday in August?

In fact, Rome is full of very good medical facilities and the vast majority are absolutely free. Its just that most of them were built in the 19^th century (or centuries before) and haven’t been updated much since (what can you expect when they don’t charge anything?). Most hospitals have a prono soccorso (emergency room) open 24 hours – however English is not likely to be spoken. If you are in the historic center, Fate Bene Fratelli, an ancient hospital on the Tiber’s only island, is the closest. The Nuovo Regina Margherita Hospital in Trastevere has a 24-hour tourist medical service for minor afflictions – but note this does not mean anybody there speaks English.

If you can wait, it’s worth visiting an English-speaking private doctor. There are several international doctors practicing in Rome, and you might even be able to find one of your own nationality – contact your country’s embassy for a list of the doctors they refer to. The HYPERLINK "http://www.aventinomedicalgroup.com/" Aventino Medical Group across from FAO has English-speaking doctors in general medicine and a range of specializations, although it can be difficult to get an appointment at this busy practice. Here as everywhere, private doctors and health facilities charge a bundle. Before coming, its a good idea to purchase international health insurance; HYPERLINK "http://www.clements.com/" Clements International is one such provider. International coverage costs relatively little and is worth its weight in gold if you fall ill.

The good news (finally!) is that Rome has an excellent children’s hospital, Bambino Gesù on the Gianicolo hill, which despite being free and public, delivers the very best in care, including at the ER. And some doctors here even speak English! If that knowledge doesn’t calm you, you can rest assured knowing that all Roman hospitals have full bars where you can buy alcoholic drinks – a caffé corretto never hurts when you’re waiting for your child, who has just taken a nosedive onto a marble floor, to be seen by a doctor – trust me.

Free public hospital with medical clinic for tourists (free):

Ospedale Nuovo Regina Margherita, Via Emilio Morosini, 30 (Trastevere) Tel: 06 58441

Tram #8 from Largo Argentina.

Major hospital with Emergency Room (Pronto Soccorso) (free):

Ospedale Fate Bene Fratelli, Piazza Fatebenefratelli 2 (Tiberina Island) Tel: 06 68371

Bus #23, 280, H, get off at Isola Tiberina.

Children’s hospital with Emergency Room (free):

Bambino Gesù, Piazza S.Onofrio, 4 (Gianicolo) Tel: 06 68591.

Bus #870 from via Paola (Ponte Vittorio).

Private group of English-speaking doctors (€100-150 per visit):

Aventino Medical Group, Via della Fonte di Fauno 22 (Aventino, near FAO) Tel: 06 578 0738.

Bus #3, 60, 75, get off at FAO.

Or contact your country’s embassy.

Running with the taxi-driver mafia

Mon, 22 Sep 2008 16:20:22 +0200

If you can help it, don’t take a taxi anywhere south of Bologna – this is how you know you’re no longer in Europe, you’re in Italy. Of course, sometimes you need to take a taxi. That doesn’t mean you will be able to take one, because you see the taxi drivers have fixed it so that there are never enough. If you’ve ever stood at Largo Argentina after 10 at night, you already know this. A few years ago, the government tried to issue more taxi licenses to relieve the burden, and the drivers staged a massive strike (not that anyone noticed), successfully lobbying to prevent more from hitting the streets.

Ever notice that all taxis drivers in Italy are Italian? Which is strange because they’ve got foreigners doing just about everything else. That’s because being a taxista is a very lucrative job, and taxi permits are passed down through families (and ‘families’) in Godfather-like fashion. It would seem then that such a coveted and protected job would predispose its lucky employees to be honest and friendly – but unfortunately in Rome, that could not be further from the case. They can and will rip you off: by not turning on the meter, by charging above what is on the meter, by charging way over the fixed price for airport trips, by taking a longer route than necessary to your destination, by charging more than the prescribed 1 Euro per bag, and perhaps most sneakily by changing their meter to ‘Zone 2’ (for long-distance runs outside Rome’s beltway) while in the city center – this alone could double the cost of your trip.

And here’s the real kicker – if you telephone a taxi service and they actually send one, the meter starts at the time of your call. This means that your taxista can drive all around the city before getting to you, and you’ll be responsible for any money already on the meter plus the charge of your trip. Any Italian will tell you that this is a completely normal practice, as if anything else would be unthinkable. If this doesn’t put Italy’s taxi drivers into the realm of criminal gangs…

So what can you do if you are forced by circumstances beyond your control to see a taxi in Rome? First, you can avoid the struggle by asking your hotel or a Roman you know to reserve a car service. As with most car services, you negotiate a price before the trip and this does not change (it might seem more expensive, but usually isn’t once the rip-off factor is figured in). If you simply must take a white taxi, check the meter before you get in – to make sure it is on ‘Zona 1’ if you are within the beltway (GRA) and that its at the right amount. All the rules for metered and airport rides should be posted in English in the back of all taxis.

If you feel you are being ‘taken for a ride’, don’t hesitate to argue with, talk down to or tell off the driver – although none admits to speaking English, most will understand every word. You also have the right to refuse to pay what the driver asks if you think the fare just isn’t fair.

Taxi Numbers (none speak English)

06 3570

06 6645

Scratch Scratch Scratch

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 22:36:35 +0200

You can find snow cones in lots of cities, whether they’re called water ices or Italian ices or what have you, they’re always shaved into a snowy consistency and covered in fruity syrup. But only in Rome has the snow cone been turned into an art form: the grattachecca. In the old days before refrigeration (not so long ago in Italy) huge blocks of ice (checca) were used to keep food cool – some of these blocks were grated (gratta) with a large grater and various fruit flavors were added – ecco!

Unlike a granita, which is made by mixing water with syrup or juice and letting partially freeze, a grattachecca is always shaved right in front of you, with fruit or other flavors are added to your taste. At the kiosks (chioschi) where most grattacchecche are made, they can usually suggest combinations of flavors that ‘si sposano bene’ or ‘marry well’ with each other.

Unfortunately as with all good things, the grattachecca kiosks in Rome are slowly disappearing, especially the ones that hand-shave the ice from a large block (many now use machines to grate smaller cubes of ice, which produces a heavier, less snowy consistency). One of the few of old-style kiosks to survive the test of time is Sora Lella (Via Porta Cavalleggeri), right outside St. Peter’s square, where elbow grease is still the power behind the ice-making. Sora Maria (Via Trionfale and Via Telesio) is considered by many to be the best chiosco in town – its certainly one of the oldest – and despite its slightly out-of-the-way location, the place can be a complete circus on summer nights: all pushy Romans doing their delicate dance to obtain a grattachecca as quickly as possible without waiting in line.

Sora Mirella (Lungotevere degli Anguillara at the Ponte Cestio) also does a brisk business in summertime owing to its superb location right next to the Isola Tiberina (Tiber Island). Here, you can look forward to grand concoctions of a multitude of syrups and big hunks of fresh summer fruit. But my personal favorite is Fonte D'oro, also located on the Lungotevere at Piazza Belli (across from Ponte Garibaldi). At this old-style kiosk, Daniele and his granny serve up their marvelous grattachecche as if your’re a member of the family. Their specialty is ‘metà metà’ (half and half), a mixture of fresh-squeezed lemon juice (spremuta) and sweet lemon syrup. Other flavors include watermelon (cocomero), tamarind, and ‘puffo’, which I’m told is a direct translation of ‘Smurf’ – I think you get the picture. Top with fresh coconut or sour cherries (amarene) and make sure to help Daniele practice his English as you enjoy your tasty ice concoction.

Sure, there are a ton of good gelaterie in town (ice cream will be the subject of another blog entry, don’t worry), but at least once, you must try this distinctly Roman treat. Some kiosks will even add booze to your ice if you ask.

Grattachecca kiosks are generally open in summer months from afternoon to late night. Prices start at around 3 euro and add-ons include extra fruit chunks and booze. Most kiosks also sell canned and bottled beverages, including beer and soda, as well.