Sciopero

Sciopero was a word I learnt very quickly post arrival in Italy.  It is a common occurrence here and usually results in my plans being messed around but two weeks ago the sciopero was on my side.  It was a beautiful sunny, warm autumn day and the 3 hour sciopero meant that instead of spending my morning in the industrial wasteland that I’m currently teaching in I could enjoy the glorious weather and spend my morning looking at ducks with young P and his dad. 

Sciopero is a strike and is something that occurs with frustrating regularity here – usually once a month and usually on a Monday or Friday (not that I want to read anything into the adding of a day of industrial action next to the weekend.)  Not being used to so many strikes I was never aware of them until I rocked up to the train station ready for an adventure only to have my plans thwarted.  After one too many cancelled journey I now I keep an eye and an ear out for announcements – especially as I am currently to commuting to work again. 

Unions are much stronger here than in the UK or Australia and it often seems as if everyone belongs to one.  I’m a great believer in the union movement and would never argue against the right to strike.  And I’m not going to make what would be an ill informed, superficial and ultimately pretty glib account of the situation here (hell I’ve got plenty of other things to be ill informed about) but I do wonder why this country has so many strikes. 

Having been here for a while now and seen so many strikes I wonder if a strike has entered the everyday of the Italian experience.  They seem such a normal part of life that you wouldn't even think of asking what issues people are striking over.

This strike was called to protest against austerity measures but that morning as some people gathered in the main piazza for speeches I couldn’t help noticing that the bars where unusually full of people drinking spritz.  But I’m just an observer and no way near qualified to really comment of such things. 

As I left work today I was told that I may have trouble getting into work tomorrow, when I asked why?  The reply came “didn’t anyone tell you?  There’s a strike.”  

Zero Zero Sette

 This week feeling the need for some mindless entertainment we headed to the cinema.  The new James bond adventure was our chosen film.  We would have to watch the film dubbed into Italian given that being such a small place Treviso doesn’t have an audience for English language films.  There is one cinema that often shows movies in their original language but it wouldn’t stoop to showing such commercial fare as the latest bond outing. 

I’m only now getting used to dubbing, in the UK and Australia the general practice with foreign movies is to keep the original dialogue track and add subtitles.  When I have caught a piece dubbed into English it has been so uniformly bad that I have grown up to have a rather snobby attitude to the process.  In my time here I’ve seen enough dubbed entertainment to begin to reassess my opinion.  I started watching TV as an aid to learning the language and while I tried as much as possible to watch Italian productions there is so much American television on the screens here that I invariably ended up watching some of those as well. 

The first thing I noticed was that dubbing here is completely different to what I had experienced before – they have separate actors for each character.  Not sure if it’s a cost cutting measure but in the UK they seem to hire one male and one female actor and get them to dub every character of their gender.  Not only in Italy do they hire a full cast of actors but many actors exclusively dub one actor.  As well as that they are also very good at finding a voice to match the actor they are dubbing.  By hiring proper performers and carefully selecting voices the productions have managed to keep the spirit of the original show – you’ll be happy to know that Gordon Ramsey is still a tosser in Italian. Watching American or British shows is not such a trial and as my language skills have improved I have begun to forget that I’m watching a dubbed show.

As for Mr Bond – something that is so British being in Italian was a bit strange but it wasn’t off putting.  Despite a year in Italy I’m still no way near fluent but I could follow the action – (ok it’s not David Mamet) but the jokes came a little too fast for my Italian so I missed much of the subtlety.  Of course I would have much preferred to watch the film in the original English, as good as the Italian dubbers are it is hard to hear another voice coming out of Judy Dench’s mouth.  All in all not a bad experience and I have resolved to try to get to the cinema more often.  Oh yeah and the movie wasn’t bad either.

Rather endearingly Italian cinemas still observe the interval. 

And it's only going to get colder

 As much as I have been in denial the evidence is now irrefutable.  I’m not sure what it was exactly that led to the admission.  Was it the overnight 12 degree drop in temperature? Was it the first appearance of vin brulee in Treviso? Was it witnessing the first of the Christmas lights being installed?  Or was it having to flee Venice at siren sound to avoid the 1.4 meter high water? Whatever it was there’s no doubt about it winter is here and given the time and severity of the temperature drop it looks like it’s going to be a long and very cold one. 

I find it depressing to think of having to get through the next four months of cold wet weather.  I’m not one for winter sports – unless sitting under a blanket with a pot of tea and a good book can be classed a sport  - and at times like these I begin to think of my home in Melbourne and the fact that they are heating up for the summer.  When I talk to Trevesians about the winter months they happily inform me what a mild winter is was last year sending me into heart palpitations.  I mean I know how cold it was last year – there was a temperature gauge outside my building and for two straight weeks it didn’t get above zero and I can’t conceive of any way you could describe that as mild.

This year I’m determined not to be caught short in the warm clothes department – given that I’m now in possession of six coats (can’t believe I own six coats and it would have been seven were it not for the fact I gifted one away) this year I’m stocking up on winter woollies – hats, jumpers, socks you name it and most pressing of all a good set of gloves, I can’t believe I got through the last winter without adequate hand coverage.  The other important thing for the cause of getting Raji through the winter is a good stack of reading material for the hibernation – any recommendations?

Not that winter is all bad – there are the roast chestnuts and warm spicy wine, Christmas markets in picture postcard towns, misty mornings in Venice and warm inviting bars.  As lovely as that is I can’t pretend that I’m not waiting for the day when I can return the hated puffy yet warm coat back to its home in the forgotten part of the wardrobe (next to the clothes that don’t fit after a year in the vicinity of awesome gelato.)