An Italian tale.
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I find myself at an airport with an unfamiliar Italian man who seems like a close friend, a plane flying to Italy which we absolutely must catch is just about to depart so we rush to check in and catch it, it feels absolutely imperative that we get on that plane.The Italian friend gives me his ticket and hurries on ahead to board the plane and stall it whilst I check us both in. I run over to the check-in desk (sort of looked like a supermarket checkout) where I see a familiar work colleague sat at the desk.
The colleague is surrounded by lots of coins all of varying denominations and currencies (curiously this particular person actually does collect coins in waking life too). As I get our papers out I discover that my Italian friend’s ticket had only put a deposit on his ticket and has only been half paid for so I have to pay the remainder which is 100 euros, I feel a bit peeved not so much having to pay for my friend but because he never told me about it.
I watch as our luggage is taken out and put on board the plane this makes me feel happy as I now know that we will be flying and the captain has decided to hold the plane for us.
The next thing I know is that I am walking alone alongside a road in the beautiful Italian countryside in the daytime, I have a piece of creased paper with the place names on it of where I need to be going in order to arrive at the Italian man’s family home.
I’m lost but not panicky and just carry on along the pleasant quiet road I don’t really know where to head so keep walking. I come to a sort of fork in the road where the principal road continues on ahead of me with a rough dirt track to my right which heads off into a small orchard or forest.
I see some men cutting trees down and chopping wood I decide to stop and ask them for directions. I ask the men for help and I seem to instinctively start speaking to them in French, the man I converse with seems upset and almost insulted by this. I didn’t realize I was speaking French at first but a part of me must have thought they would understand as both languages share the Latin root.
I seem to get confused with the languages and start speaking French again much to the disdain of the countryman who goes red faced and looks as if he is going to cry out of anger at my lack of consideration for his mother tongue.
I eventually decide to simply show him my piece of paper with the directions on it, I point to a place name which reads something like “Commono” (this wasn’t clear as there was lots of other pencil scribbling and markings on the page too).
The man seems to understand what I want and points with his hand straight ahead he repeats the same expression over and over again in Italian which I instinctively seem to know means “Keep going straight ahead”. I even see a sign post with many direction signs on it which looks pretty confusing but I recognize the name of the place I need to be heading to on one of the larger signs
I thank the man by saying “Grazie” in an attempt to muster up some kind of Italian he seems a bit miffed at me for being so unprepared and particularly my lack of spoken Italian but he seems okay and heads back to his wood cutting the other men, they all seem friendly though typically male like and hard working country laborers.
(I get the distinct feeling that this group of men were in that particular location to stop me veering off the road and getting lost in the forest).
I carry on down the road and after much walking I arrive at the family house of the Italian man I caught the plane with earlier, it is now night time. I knock at the door and am greeted by the lady of the house who appears to be the mother of the Italian friend, she is a sweet little wizened old lady who looks like a fairy tale character dressed in a pinifore and bonnet she seems much too old to be the Italian man’s mother (she must be in her nineties).
The old cottage is very rickety and run down but the family seems to be used to it I really want to help the family and tell the old lady that there is a way that I can repair and renew her house for her (this seemed to be possible by some kind of funds or benefits that the family are permitted by the authorities but never knew about, its possible that this even involved some kind of loophole I could use to their advantage).
There doesn’t appear to be any other women in the house apart from the old woman herself but it soon becomes apparent that my Italian friend has many brothers. As I’m shown around the little cottage I’m introduced to these brothers and discover that they are a real mixed bunch some are wild and carefree whereas others are academic and intellectual.
Up until this point I haven’t been speaking with the family because of the language barrier but one of the man’s brothers comes into a bedroom which I have been offered to sleep in. This brother is very clever and is dressed very tidily with a smart appearance he speaks perfect English with only a tiny accent.
He hands me a book which is an English/Italian dictionary and a sheet of paper which has some useful keywords written on it that are I gather are used regularly in conversation which I can glance at in times of need, the man gives me these with the intention of helping me out whilst I am here in Italy.
I start to pick up on the fact that the friend who I caught the plane with is in some kind of trouble involving a gang or network of unscrupulous people it’s a sad tale as his family have been dragged into the troubles and they are all quite innocent, I really feel that I want to help them all out.
Later on I find myself in a large open upstairs room in a rustic restaurant where a party is taking place to celebrate my visit and the return of the Italian man. An unpleasant scene breaks out when the Italian man who appears to have been drinking too much becomes aggressive with his oriental girlfriend he grabs her by the wrist and swings and pushes her around violently and tells her to leave.
He then starts dancing with a dream girlfriend of mine I feel like I have been pretty tolerant of his raucous behavior up until now but when I see him manhandling my girlfriend I go to get up from my seat to intervene, thankfully he cools off before I get involved and wanders off drunkenly and aimlessly back to the party.
What feels like the next day I discover that my younger sister has a house here in Italy too so I decide to visit her by going out into the countryside for a walk along a road until I come to the large property where she is living.
At first I think that the enormous building is hers but once inside I realize that she shares the house with many other people sort of like how young working professionals might share a large apartment building together. I go up to my sisters room and enter through the door immediately noting that her room is triangular in shape she apparently has a room near to where the roof slopes down.
Her living space is very nice and modern but its also cozy too full of all her belongings (this room had a very “real” and strong ambiance). I gather it’s where she does her work which is some form of commercial art she seems very successful and the room is really tailored to her comfortable lifestyle of working from home.
Hanging above her bed I see a photograph in a frame of an aunt who is also artistic I make a brief comment in passing to her about it (this photograph was again a very “real” detail, in fact it was very clear and eye-catching for a dream object).
I notice that my sister has a strange musical gadget on her bed which looks like half a cylinder which is short and wide just the right proportions to wrap around the head. I ask her what the grey plastic gadget is and she tells me it’s a special kind of earphones that one rests ones head on when relaxing and catnapping in bed, it offers a special surround kind of sound (yet again this dream gadget was very real and vivid….just the sort of thing I can imagine Sony coming out with!).
I’m really impressed by my sister’s success it seems she really is her own boss and totally in control of how much work she does and when she does it.
I head back outside as if I were on some kind of quest for the Italian family I staying with. I still have my suitcases with me which are cumbersome and slowing me down I look for somewhere where I can hide them away safely whilst I go off to sort out the Italian families issues.
My sister calls out to me and tells me to hide my luggage under a long table which I can see over on a grass verge near to the road, the table has been boxed in with a blanket or sheet obscuring the underneath and sides of the table (very much like I had to do when I was preparing rooms for business meetings when I worked at a hotel when I was younger).
I really want to hide the suitcases but the table isn’t really ideal as the blanket covering the table flutters about in the breeze revealing what is beneath every now and then if I put my luggage here I’m sure that somebody would spot it and may even take it. I have the strong urge to be getting on my way and helping the Italian family out.
