Conversation with an Italian

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As mentioned previously, I met Claudio my second afternoon in Venice, where he has worked in the hotel business for 20 years, with spurts of assignments and conferences around the continent. (Not at the hotel where I stayed, though, a bit nicer one along the waterfront near Piazza San Marco.) So the bearded Robin Williams doppelganger is used to the ebbs and flows of tourists, of whom he is very encouraging, even given his distaste for travelers who arrive without doing homework on where to go. It comes from a philosophy that reminds me of the shape of Venice, the shape of two hands grasping each other, because travel, in his mind, is about connecting with new people. He has connected with scores of new people, dined with them and shown them around the city, but I wonder if he gets everything out of this that he would like because (he has come to accept) few remain in contact after they leave.

And travel is about sharing cultures, which I see as a principle benefit of globalization, but Claudio took the opposite view. Rather, globalization forces people to merge into a common identity, in the process sacrificing their uniquely Italian or Malaysian or Uruguayan identity. Understandable, especially when a journalist calls the election of Obama proof of assimilation, not diversity, but I don't buy it. We had just passed the statue of Vittorio Emanuele II, who unified Italy 150 years ago, by the time I asked, "Isn't Italy a form of globalization, writ small?"

"Of course I'm not an anarchist," he said. "Of course Italy should stay unified." But some differences between the cities survived - for instance, time adjusts, because in one city you may arrive five minutes late to an appointment, in another, 25 (I believe the rules grow more lax as latitude decreases). I would say, though, that as a string of more than a hundred islands, Venice embodies globalization, too, writ even smaller.

Ironically, Claudio doesn't even like the noise and density of Venice. He commutes from Mestre to work 20 minutes by bus, and his mother and siblings live even farther, in the countryside where he grew up and which he prefers. "Chirp, chirp, chirp, you hear in the morning," he said. He did this often, saying "Cheap, cheap, cheap," of Americans and "Bluh, bluh, bluh," as filler.

He turned political at times, annoyed with Italian officials he said are so pampered and corrupt that they called it a victory when tax dollars no longer paid for their hair cuts, and so out of touch that their campaigns oversimplify and mean little more than rhetoric. I told him it seems to be true of most countries, but maybe more so now in Italy with PM Silvio Berlusconi's free pass on bribes and tax evasion. But most of the time, Claudio matched the simple life of his pastoral background, his humble ambition being to learn to swim so that he can eventually own a gondola in Venice.

Venice - three photo albums

1. Here is the Facebook album of scenic Venice,
2. Carnevale, and
3. Random but notable images

The sun, and other pleasures of Venice

How depressing, to return to a frozen Budapest after three days of not just Venetian sun, but warmth, too. It did not hit me immediately because, after a 13-hour train ride, we had arrived in Venice at 7 a.m. on Friday, dawdled cluelessly for an hour, and then embarked on a cold, hour-and-a-half trek to find our hotel. Yes, I sold out and stayed at a hotel because it was Carnevale and we were desperate, but at least we snuck three into a double. Given the size of Venice, I still can't believe how long it took to get from point A to point B (in fact, I'm relying on my roomie for the estimate). But by the time we stored our things, there were still three hours till check-in and we were all so tired from the hellish train ride (a story for another time) that a few of us just sat on church steps 10 meters from the Canale della Giudecca, listening to an accordionist and guitarist play "Strangers in the Night."

It was then that we began to notice the sun. There had been a reasonable number of bright days in Budapest, but none that came down on us like swords and blinded us happily and lulled us into a drowse. None that masked the chilly air and made jackets for once superfluous. We couldn't have asked for a better complement to the canals: I don't know why we, like raccoons, find shiny things so alluring, but in the water, sunlight danced from one small wave to the next, dulling when clouds passed over. I'd like to think of them as sprites or some other animate creations, but it's not true, even as analogy. There's not a set number of sparks that leap into view, they're not real, they just come and go with every bend of the waves, when the sun, water, and eye form the right angle.

Truth be told, those two - the water and sunlight - were the reasons I went to Venice. Carnevale had something to do with it, only in that I had been meaning to visit the city, and this festival gave my friends more incentive to go, so I joined them. Why not enjoy the masks and costumes? And I did, but they get old, fast. I met Claudio, who lives 20 minutes outside Venice and has worked there for two decades. Without sounding jaded or disenchanted, he said Carnevale used to be about making costumes, participation, but now 90 percent of the people don't dress up and most who do, buy their outfits. It's more of a fashion show now - both literally, as grand and colorful dresses stroll across platforms in Piazza San Marco, and practically, as strangers ask strangers to stop for a photo.

"But you don't dress up," I pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm not participating. I don't come here for Carnevale," Claudio said. "Other people say, 'I'm going to Carnevale.' You ask, 'What will you wear?' And they say, 'Nothing.'"

What surprised me more was that Elizabethan dress was only the beginning; people came out as Mario and Luigi, bears, clowns, and my personal favorite, mummies with "third legs." I was afraid the weekend would be too New Orleans, or Times Square during New Year's, but it was also another Halloween.

I said Claudio was not jaded or disenchanted, though, because he reasoned that this might not be his ideal Carnevale, but it was in the spirit of Carnevale nonetheless: it was a time for people to do as they would and not to follow rules, so however the holiday changed was natural because it reflects always the desire of the people.