Venice-style Mardi Gras

Carnivale. Venice.





I tried to describe it as Times Square on New Year’s Eve, but that’s not really right. Also I’ve never been to Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Anyway, imagine Times Square on New Year’s Eve, but with the sun beating down while you try to walk down the street, and you can’t, because there are too many people trying to walk down the street at the same time as you, in the same direction. A very small fraction of them are wearing masks. The rest are wearing cameras and ice cream.

There’s not much else to say about the Carnivale itself, because it was more of an experience of anxiety and claustrophobia than joy and celebration. However, I’ve been told that the real way to celebrate Carnivale in Venice is to go to exclusive Venetian parties with Venetian friends. Next time.

I did have a memorable experience with Lucia's mother, who accompanied Massimo and me back to Bologna on the train. I should preface this story by explaining that older Italian women tend intimidate me in venues like the bus and the supermarket, where they will easily push me over with shopping cart/pocketbook/whatever to get where they're going. I've always been on the receiving end of this aggression. However, when teamed with Lucia's mother, I found that this older-lady determination is very helpful at getting things done.

The Venice train station during Carnivale was an absolute nightmare. The crowds were so thick that it was impossible to walk or really do anything at all. To make matters worse, for some reason the trains running between Venice and Bologna seemed to be some of the most chaotic. So, on Sunday evening, Anita (Lucia's mom), Massimo and I arrived at the station with five minutes to spare, because our vaporetto (the boat version of a bus) was late. Massimo took off to get tickets, and Anita proceeded to plow through hundreds of people, tightly gripping my arm, and yelling "excuse me" - sometimes only after she had pushed people out of her way. It was great. I felt like I was seeing the world from a new perspective. Of course, we missed the train anyway, because it was too full. So Anita and I plowed off to another train, and eventually we all ended up on our way.

The most interesting food I’ve eaten this week: a mint popsicle colored olive-green with spinach dye. It was not delicious! I actually couldn’t finish it. It was very strange, especially the flavor, which wasn’t the mild sweet mint of mint tea, but a very strong, stinging mint, like toothpaste. So, an olive-green toothpaste flavored popsicle. To make matters worse, it arrived in my office at work the way most of the food does in Coop – in unmarked packaging, as a food sample, looking very suspicious. I never realized, before, how nutrition info and brand names legitimize packaged food and make it seem recognizable. In my office, the fridge is full of food, but it’s all yogurt and cheese and popsicles that are unmarked. I’m still not used to it. Anyway, I didn’t finish my popsicle. And usually I can eat strange things, but the toothpastey sweetness combined with the knowledge of the spinach (though there wasn’t any taste) just made it unappetizing.

And, I have learned lots more during the tremendously intellectual exchanges that constitute my Thursday evening English lessons with Andrea. Last night he taught me a saying: Donne e motori sono joie e dolori. Women and motorcycles are joy and pain. (Needless to say, he has a motorcycle, and most of our "conversation time" consists of motorcycle discussion.) We also dedicated a good chunk of time trying to figure out how to translate "Just Do It", so that he could understand the meaning of his Nike apparel. I said it was something like, "do it without thinking too much". How would you translate the word "just"? Any suggestions are welcome. I'll let him know next week when we try to tackle the conditional.

I'm not being totally fair, because Andrea is really a terrific, perceptive guy with a great sense of humor. He proudly declares that he's only read three books in his life, because he prefers car and sport magazines. But he'll then add that his mother weeps about this, because she has so many books that she had to build a library in her house. He thinks this is very funny. I don't know if he'll ever be reading Shakespeare, but at least he's started to read about sports in English.