THEY are back!

They are one of the least pleasant aspects of living here. They arrive with the heat and attack you when you are at your most vulnerable, that is when you are wearing fewer clothes, such as when it’s hot.

There are many devices for keeping them at bay. At this time of year, shelves in the local supermarkets start to fill up with a bewildering variety of sprays, vapourisers, creams, candle like things, portable ‘hang on your belt’ battery powered fan type things, spiral things which you burn, geraniums, and last but by no means least (and very effective) little stove thingies which ‘burn’ small rectangles of venom impregnated cardboard. (Sorry, if I happen to have missed a few devices.)

Yes, I am not the only one who finds these wonders of nature extremely irritating. We have a veritable armory of appliances designed to fend them off, but no matter how hard you try, the little blighters always seem to get you.

Of course when it is hot you open the windows, but if you don’t invest in yards of netting, they will get to you. There is no escape. And even if you foil them by putting in air conditioning, you will not be safe.

These crafty little pests just wait patiently until you decide to venture forth into the outside world. Which you will, after all who can resist the stunning intense blue of the Mediterranean skies here. They know this, they know you will come out of your house; especially when you are tempted into a nice little outdoor aperitif with well meaning friends; and these little gatecrashers will be there. Waiting, waiting to party all over you, and gorge themselves on your red corpuscles. They bite you everywhere and can easily penetrate light clothing. Boy do they leave their mark. Often lots of marks, which will then itch for what seems like an eternity causing you to scratch into the skin on your legs so deeply that you finally reach blood.

These little darlings also practice a subtle form of psychological warfare designed to keep you awake all through the night. A clever ploy, by the morning you will be so exhausted, so mentally drained that they will easily be able to drink their fill. Then they will hide and digest, before initiating yet another night long campaign. They are insatiable.

I think you know what type of beast I am on about. I feel sure Stephen King could come up with an endearing little tale about them.

Yes, you little blighter, sitting there on my shoulder about to tuck in, I’m talking about you. Do your worst, but please try not to leave a very itchy wound. I’m sure my skin is now several layers thinner. Have pity, I pray you.

Cappuccino and non-cappuccino cultures

While chatting with my other half I happened to mention a conversation which had taken place between two students of mine. The subject of this discussion was whether Milan was a better place to work than Rome. One person, who knew somebody who had worked in both cities, was of the opinion that Milan was a much better place to work. The other student, who had worked in Rome, said that he preferred Rome to Milan.

So, you may be wondering, what the difference is between the two cities as work places. The answer lies, or so it would seem, in the mentality of the people populating them. My wife says that the Romans are laid back and consider work to be just another part of their lives and not the be all and end all of life. Romans like to ease themselves into work mode. They go to the bar in the morning, order a cappuccino and a brioche (bit like a croissant) and then spend a little time reading the morning papers. Having psyched themselves up a little they then toddle off to work. All nice and relaxed. However, the relaxation continues over into work time and lots of tasks are approached in a relaxed sort of 'What's the hurry?' way. The pro-Milan student, who hailed from the south of Italy; where the people are not exactly renown for their strong work ethic, was all against this overly relaxed approach to getting jobs done and said that she would find this frustrating. On the contrary the other student, also a southerner incidentally, much preferred this type of laid back approach. Horses for courses, I guess.

Milan, on the other hand, is a city in which all its inhabitants seem to live for work. Things are generally more businesslike and efficient. Milanese people scurry to work and stay there until late. Well, anyone who has, will have, or hopes to have any responsibility does this. Manual workers tend to prefer to more or less work their contract hours, unless someone will pay them overtime. The long and the short of it is that in Milan things tend to get done more quickly.

Basically, the conversation which I've just gone on about was a classic example of the north/ south divide which exists her in the living museum. The only strange thing was that, as I have already mentioned, both parties to this discussion were from the south and it was not as you might have expected a conversation which took place between a northerner and a southerner.

You should perhaps note that as a general rule, the northern Italians think that their southern counterparts are lazy and work-shy. Hence the separatist movement that exists which would like the country to be split into two parts, with each having to fend for itself. This would mean that the richer north of the country could avoid funding the poorer south.

Now, does the fact that such a conversation took place mean that attitudes are changing a little? Are some southerners as hard working as the northerners like to think they are? Very good questions, which I cannot really answer. You have to know that the wheels of change here grind inexorably slowly.

Stabbings

Well, I’m not too sure how to tackle this. It has certainly had a bit of an effect on me and left me feeling a little shocked and worried. What the heck happened? I’ll explain.

About midday on this quiet Easter Sunday, my other half, her friend and baby left the house for a quiet amble around the almost deserted streets near to where we live. I was left at home with another friend and he and I spent a few minutes trying to work out how to do something with a 360° panoramic photograph. After a while, we decided to go join the girls and baby, so we left the house and went to look for them. Actually, I phoned my other half on my mobile and asked her to tell me where they were. Having found out , my friend and I set off to meet up with them.

As we neared the street where they were we heard an ambulance with its siren blaring away. The vehicle promptly whizzed past us and stopped just about level with my better half, friend and pushchair. My pace quickened a little and I feared for an instant that something had happened to the little one. Luckily, my son was not involved. As I got closer, I noticed this person lying half on and half off the pavement between the parked cars. The person was clutching his chest and I could see no small amount of blood. Then two police cars arrived and a small crowd started to gather round to see what was up. Two guys even turned up with cameras and started shooting away, only to be told by the policemen, in no uncertain terms, to cut it out . I seem to remember one of the cops calling the photographers ‘animals’ or something similar. Anyway, the cops were not impressed.

It transpired that seconds earlier, the boy, he was only 18 or so, had run up behind my other half and shouted ‘ambulance’. When she and her friend turned and asked what the problem was, he replied ‘knife’. My wife’s friend wasted no time in calling the emergency services as requested and they both told the lad to lie down.

We later discovered from the policeman who came round to take a statement from my wife and her friend that not one, but two eighteen year olds had been knifed. One of these youths had had his stomach cut open and was being operated on in hospital. Gruesome.

The reason for this double stabbing was not apparent, although we learnt that the victims knew their attacker. Another thing that was a little unusual about the incident was the fact that all those involved seemed to be of Chinese origin. Why is this unusual? Well, we live right in the middle of the Chinese quarter of Milan, but as a rule, the Chinese go about their business and don’t cause problems for anyone. Situations like this were, until today, non-existent. I hope this will continue to be the case.

The whole thing has changed my perspective of city life a little. I mean, I had always known than violence was a relatively common occurrence in a city, but it is not often, fortunately, that you come almost face to face with it. When you do, various questions start buzzing about your brain. Things like: What would have happened if my other half and baby had been caught right in the middle of this thing? Are cities really safe places to live in and bring up children? Should we move out to the country, where things are generally quieter? Plus a few other concerns. My wife was quite cool about the whole thing, but her friend was left in a mild state of shock. My little son was, I thank my lucky stars, completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

I’m not too sure I want to remember this particular Easter day, for obvious reasons. Talk about mean streets.

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