Foggy Gondolas

This weekend I went to Venice with my roommates, one of whom owns an apartment on the lagoon. The apartment has a garden. I didn't even know that people in Venice got to have actual gardens (since they already have so much great stuff), but Lucia's garden was beautiful. She also has three cats who live in Venice in her garden, and we brought one of them home on the train with us, back to Bologna. People like to stare at you if you're lugging a fluorescent pink cat carrier that emits howls of misery. The train ride was an extremely pleasant two hours. Little did we know that Timi would not stop crying in Bologna, either - he has a toothache. His wailing is pathetic and annoying at the same time (tomorrow he goes to the vet).


Anyway, Venice was beautiful, and as you can see it was very foggy - very atmospheric. We went to a show of Picasso's work (Antibes) that was great. Lots of painted serving platters and bulls. There was also a pop-art exhibit in the same museum, featuring a wax statue of Hitler kneeling in a corner. According to Lucia it's very famous.

Anna and I got to partake Venetian nightlife, which basically consisted of going from hidden bar to hidden bar and having a drink and a meatball at each place. After three such trips we realized that this was going to be our dinner, and after some panicked negotiation managed to get everyone interested in eating a real meal. We went to a Mexican restaurant - I did not know that Italy had such things - that served tzatziki sauce with its burritos. I tried to convince Anna that it wasn't Mexican food, since they don't have Mexican food in England either (and I know that as a Northeasterner I don't know what real Mexican food is, but I know better than these people).

Last night I went to a very interesting show: a version of a French play put on by a group of kids living in a juvenile detention center (I have no idea what the politically correct term is). The kids rewrote the play, made the costumes and set, and were amazing - they sang, danced, performed acrobatics, played musical instruments, rapped, and acted excellently. There was something almost overwhelming about seeing them perform so well within the detention center itself - we passed through more than one security checkpoint to get to the theater. They actually had doors made out of metal bars. Even more eerie was the fact that everyone performed in masks - only afterwards, during the applause, I realized how young they all were. It was heartbreaking, as trite as that sounds. According to Allegra, Lara's friend, who was the stage manager, most of the kids are the children of immigrants and they got in trouble for theft or drug possession. Surprise surprise, Italy's systemic failures aren't so different from ours at all. Though it did make me wonder if the US government allocates any money for writing and performing arts for incarcerated children.

On a happier note, this is for my fellow cat lovers: One of Lucia's cats, in Venice. Her name is Nina.
Sorry, I had to do it.