In gioco... (At stake...)

Cricket games, the national sport here, may last several days. In a way, I also started, on Friday, a sort of 'cricket game', which - after the break on Diwali - continued today, and, hopefully, will conclude on Tuesday. I officially made an offer for an apartment.

I don’t want to give too many details, because, as all good Italians, I prefer “not to say ‘cat’ if I don’t have it in my sack” (macaronic translation of an Italian saying made famous by the renowned football trainer Trapattoni).

What I can say is that, as all the most recent experiences, this experience is also helping me to understand a bit better India and the Indians. More than a cricket game, however, this seems a poker game, in which everyone is playing to understand what the others on the table have, and who is bluffing and who is not. Four players are sitting at this table: Mrs. And Mr. Sikka (the owner of the house and her husband respectively: difficult to understand who takes decisions between the two), Surinda (my hopefully trusty agent: he gets a percentage on the deal), and I. The game is: to wring the best deal.

On Friday it was a preliminary hand, mainly to study each other. Today we went a bit further, and we started placing bets. On Tuesday we should show our cards and conclude the game, hopefully with a good deal, and hoping that nobody leaves the table before the end of the game.

Will keep you updated...

Luci a Delhi: Diwali

Europeans have Christmas. Americans Thanksgiving Day. Indians celebrate Diwali.

Diwali is the most celebrated Hindu event in India. It celebrates the return of Rama, the legendary King of Ayodhya (in Utter Pradesh), to his home town after a 14 year exile and after he killed Ravana, a powerful king who ruled in Ancient Lanka (the present Sri Lanka). But from a more spiritual point of view, Diwali is the celebration of the “awareness of the inner light”, a central concept in Hindu philosophy that can somehow be compared to our western concept of “soul”.

Diwali is an extremely colourful and joyful event. People dress their best clothes, decorates their homes and shops with orange flowers, purchases sweets and gifts, and reunite with their families in the late afternoon to pray and exchange presents. And at night houses and shops are lightened with twinkling fairy lights and flickering candles (beautiful!), and people shoot fireworks and firecrackers (i nostri raudi)...

Today it was Diwali. I spent my Diwali wandering about markets in Delhi to breathe and enjoy the atmosphere of the eve of the feast. It was a very nice feeling: you could easily detect the excitement in the air: everybody was busy with the last minute preparations and decorations, everybody wished ‘happy Diwali’ to each other, everyone seemed genuinely happy...

In the evening I joined a group of colleagues (an interesting mix of Finnish, Germans, British, Indians, Sudanese, and Maldivians) who had a nice terrace on the top floor of a building - and from there we watched the fireworks and firecrackers. I don’t know how to best describe the sensation, but do imagine a 16 million city shooting uninterruptedly for five hours (from about 8 pm to about 1 am) fireworks and firecrackers... Well, let’s say that if I didn’t know we were celebrating, I could have easily thought we were under bombing...

Surviving FRRO, the Foreign Regional Registration Office

I remember during my times at university when I used to go every year to the Questura di Milano (the Police Headquarter in Milan) to renew my passport. I remember the endless queue of Africans, North-Africans, and Balkans, packed outside one of the entrances of the barracks, with their covers and sleeping bags (most of them were sleeping outside not to lose their place) waiting to have their working or resident permits approved, renewed or regularized.

I remember very well this image because it was accompanied by two strong (and somehow opposite) feelings. First, the empathy for these people: far from home, probably not speaking Italian, waiting and fighting to have a piece of paper. Second, the (perhaps selfish) relief for having the luck of not being among them. I didn’t know at that time I would have had to experience a similar experience myself a few years later...

“Registration required within 14 days of arrival in India”, my Indian visa states. And so, with the trusty Satish (below a picture), I went today to the FRRO, the Foreign Regional Registration Office, to register myself. A Dantesque hell is the best image I can think about to describe the situation I had in front of me. A jungle of people, of all races and ages, crowded together, pushing each other and elbowing their way forward, shouting at the FRRO employers while waving pieces of paper, and insulting each other. ‘Now I understand the chaos theory’ I said to myself...

In (only) one hour I managed to get a number, written in pencil on a torn piece of paper. That number supposedly indicated my turn. That conquer, in a relatively short period of time considering the premises, should have instilled hope in me. But looking at the jungle around I felt more lost than anything else. But while half discouraged and half in despair I was passively waiting for the divine Providence, trusty Satish took my papers and disappeared in the crowd. About ten minutes after he suddenly re-emerged from that crowd and made me a sign to follow him. Without really understanding how, I found myself in front of an FRRO officer who was asking me, severely staring at me, questions in Hindi - to which Satish was answering. Without seeming too convinced, the officer took a few stamps, singed a few papers, wrote down a few numbers, and before I realized it, she handed me my Registration Permit.

I still wonder what happened, and how Satish managed to get all the papers done. But - I learnt - that's also 'India, incredible India', and the most important thing is that, starting from today, I am officially a ‘foreign resident’ in this country...

Officially 'Resident'

Amici in New Delhi

Where would two Italian friends who meet in New Delhi go out for dinner? Elementary: at ‘Amici’, wood fired pizza oven & café…

The story of Emanuele and me seems to run on two parallel paths that sometime cross and overlap each other. We met in 2000 in Turin, at the JPO Induction Course. I then went to Ethiopia and Emanuele to Kenya. During our years in Africa we met a couple of times in Nairobi and Addis, always by coincidence. We re-met each other in Washington in 2006, after we had missed each other in London by a few months only: I was there in 2003-04, Emanuele in 2004-05. For three years our lives overlapped, but - interestingly enough - while I was envisioning myself in DC for the next couple of years, Emanuele was offered a position in Delhi. Well, you all know how it ended… End of the story? Of course not: I will probably see him more in the next months than I saw him in the past years. Emanuele has in fact missions scheduled in India in October, November, December, and January! Well, if I were Laura or Mathilde, I would probably become jealous…

And so, while on the one hand I am engaged full-time to settle down (with all the strain that this effort requires), this dinner relieved me a bit from this fatigue and brought me back, for a couple of hours, on well known lands. The atmosphere with Emanuele is always of great confidence, human warmth, affinity… in short, for a few hours, I felt (back) home.

And by the way, the pizza at Amici was not bad at all, on our own word…

White tiger

Today, between a visit to a house and another, I took a couple of hours of break and visited the Delhi zoo. Among various species, the zoo hosts the very rare species of the white tiger. It is believed that white tigers bring good luck. Well, if this is the case, I hope that this visit will help me finding a house soon…

Riccardo

One of the aspects of the expats' life is the strong sense of solidarity that exists among expats. Sharing the same kind of challenges, expats tend to fraternize and support each other - more than it would happen in other circumstances. The expat community is usually extremely open and welcoming towards the newly arrived, and, in a sort of positive ‘nonnismo’ (‘caporalisme’ in French - sorry, I don’t know how to translate this word in English) the veterans take care of and mentor the newcomers, who, in their turn, will take care of and mentor the new newcomers once they become veterans…

So Riccardo, JPO at UNIDO, got to know about my arrival from an email that circulated in the past days among the young expats to introduce me. Riccardo, who is about to finish his second year in Delhi and therefore can be considered a veteran in all respects, is currently on vacation in Italy. However, as soon as he received the message, he immediately contacted me: “Where are you staying? Hey, I am out of town for a couple of weeks, but do call my maid, ask her my keys, and feel free to stay at my place…”

And so I moved to Riccardo’s over the week end, and have to say that staying in a home is much better than staying in a hotel. Having not met Riccardo yet, I have been trying to imagine how he could look like: have looked for a picture of him at home, but could not find any. So I googled his name, and (surprise surprise) I found him on Facebook - but remained half amused and half disappointed when I saw his profile picture (above). I’ll have then to wait two weeks more before meeting personally Riccardo…

Commuting

Taxi in the morning...

... and taxi in the evening.

News from the new world

I realized the last posts have been a bit Matteo-centric. But would like to reassure everybody that Mathilde is fine and living very enriching experiences as well.

Currently in Brazil, she will be in France next week, then back to DC the following one, before finally coming to India.

Matteo and Mathilde will re-join each other on October 31st. Counting the days!

Karva Chauth

Yesterday night Delhi celebrated Karva (or Karwa) Chauth. Karva Chauth is a traditional Hindu festival during which married women fast one entire day to favour long, safe, and prosperous life to their husbands.

The ritual represents extreme love and devotion of women to their husband, as evidenced by the wives’ willingness to suffer for their husbands’ well being. Indeed, it is an extremely romantic ritual:

Women start fasting the previous night, after the appearance of the moon. On the following day, they dress their best clothing, adorn themselves with jewels and henna, and wait until the new moon-rise to break the fast. At the appearance of the moon, women pray and offer water to the moon, and only after having seen it, they look at their husbands, who are close to them. The husbands then offer the first bite of food and the first sip of water to them, and shower them with gifts…

Matteo has a mobile!

It took me three years to get a mobile phone in Washington. Only three days to get one in India.

A sign of times that change. And that for Matteo - as for Kenya, as for China, as for India, ... - a technological jump is not only conceivable, but also possible!

House-hunting

In every resettlement, there is a step, a process that to me is at the same time very exciting and very stressful: the search for a new accommodation.

Exciting because it is the first step towards really discovering the new city not as a tourist, but as a prospective resident. You’ll visit areas and neighborhoods that you won’t necessarily visit anymore in the future; you’ll start learning the roads, directions, distances and geography of the new town; and you’ll deal with a multitude of local people: landlords, landladies, intermediaries, plumbers, electricians, candidate guardians, candidate gardeners, candidate cleaning-ladies, etc. Stressful because the search is usually affected by numerous factors (the need to find something in a relatively short period of time, limited knowledge and information about the town and the market, limited budget, etc.) that will make your choice necessarily sub-optimal…

It is in addition a process that, in a way, helps you to know yourself better, as it forces you to think through, prioritize and make choices on what really matters to you. Better a home close to work or in a green area? Bright or quiet? Furnished or unfurnished? Safe or in a lively neighborhood? With reliable electricity or in an area that doesn’t suffer from water shortages? Recently maintained or with a trusted landlord? Of course you would like to have them all, but you know you can’t…

With all these feelings and questions, I began my search today. Surinda, the ‘agent’ I have been recommended, picked me up at work and brought me with his motorbike, zigzagging in the Delhi traffic, in neighborhoods with exotic names: Sundar Nagar, Nizzamuddin East, Jangpura, Lajpat Nagar, Defence Colony, Safdarjang Enclave…

The first day of the search didn’t produce many results, but it contributed to instill new life into my spirit: I discovered new places, interacted with new people, I was forced to think quickly and take decisions… I felt surprisingly alive.

Stay tuned, updates on how the search goes soon!

First day in Delhi

I decided to spend my first day in Delhi just wandering about. No maps, no targets, no asking for information: just walking around following people, my curiosity, and nothing else. Just to get the taste of this new city.

And while walking around, various thoughts were overlapping in my mind, and I was thinking at how these streets, these places that today are so unknown and alien to me, will soon become familiar and part of my daily life…

And while roaming, I ended up to the tombs of Humayun and Isa Khan, the second Mughal Emperor and a XVI century nobleman respectively. Humayun’s tomb (below), particularly, became the inspiration for the more famous Taj Mahal.

In short, as the CNN commercial would say: India, incredible India… (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWuGEbPALy0)

First contact with Indian taxis…

For those who know me well, well, you all know my ‘love-hate’ relationship with taxi-drivers. You would probably remember my adventures with taxi-drivers in Ethiopia and all around Africa. You may also recall my ‘not-always-smooth’ relationship with taxi-drivers in DC and neighbor states. Time has probably come that I experienced taxi-drivers in South Asia as well…

Although I had probably preferred to postpone my first interaction with Indian taxi-drivers to a later stage of my Indian experience, destiny wanted that I had to be put to the test with them from the very first moment I touched the Indian soil. Although, in fact, I was expecting a shuttle from the hotel to pick me up, there was nobody waiting for me at the airport. Without worrying too much, I then went to one of the stalls of the taxi-companies at the airport (grazie Emanuele). Here in Delhi in fact you tell your destination and you pay your trip directly to the taxi-stall in the airport, and you are given a receipt which you bring to the taxi-driver outside the airport. The taxi-driver will then drive you to the address you have previously provided. ‘Good’ I thought ‘so I don’t have to bargain with the taxi-driver’, knowing that this is always one of the major sources of conflict. I had been in addition pre-alerted of the superior bargaining skills of the Indians, and preferred not to be tested after 20 hours of travel…

So, I approached the first taxi-driver in the parking:
- Good evening, I need to go to the Jukaso Inn, 50 Sunder Nagar…
- Ok
- Do you know where it is?
- Yes-yes… Jukaso Inn, Sunder Nagar… yes-yes…
- And how long does it take?
- Half-hour
- Ok, let’s go…

After about half-hour during which we risked our lives a couple of times, during which we discussed a bit of all the things you discuss with a taxi-driver the first time you arrive in Delhi (the subway under construction, the Commonwealth Games in 2010, the traffic, etc.), during which he tried to convince me to go to another hotel a dozen of times, Mr. Kumar (that was his name) stopped the car and asked me:
- So, where do we go?
- !!! What ‘where do we go?’ ??? I told you, Jukaso Inn! You told me you know where it was!!!
- Yes-yes (in a half-apologetic and half-offended tone), don’t get angry, I know, I know… Just let me ask…
- !!!

After Mr. Kumar confabulated for a couple of minutes with another taxi-driver, he came back to the car…
- So, you know where to go?
- Yes-yes
- So, how long does it take?
- Half-hour
- !!! What??? You told me ‘half-hour’ half-hour ago!!!
- Yes-yes, don’t get angry, you are my son… 10-15 minutes… (pause) … half-hour…

And so, half-hour later, after having risked our lives another couple of times, here I was - finally - at the Jukaso Inn, relieved to be still alive and happy by the perspective to be soon in a bed, but somehow concerned that I would need to retrieve all my African patience if I want to survive with Indian taxi-drivers as well…

Le Indiane - The arrival: first sensations, first images...

Whenever I go to a new country for the first time, I always try to pay particular attention to the very first sensations, the first images, the first smells, etc. of the new place, and imprint them in my mind as mental pictures.

My first contact with India has been… in Frankfurt, in the boarding area of Air India. And the first feeling was… ‘diversity’. Knowing that for a strange mental process we tend to make uniform to our eyes the faces of the people of an ethnic group different from ours - and so at first sight the Chinese, the Ethiopians, the Senegalese all looked a bit alike for us - I was impressed on the contrary by how different from each other the Indians that were waiting with me for boarding looked to me.

But to be fair, I should describe the first feelings at arrival. I have to confess that 20 hours of flight have anesthetized a bit my receptive capacities. But if I try to recall the sensations that accompanied me from the moment I left the luggage area at the airport until the moment I reached the hotel, these are well synthetized in the image above. The first words that come to my mind are: crowding, over-crowding, mass… and incessant honking. In brief, India seems not to be the place for agoraphobics…

La quiete dopo la tempesta (The calm after the storm)

Odo augelli fare festa… The past weeks have been emotionally and logistically hectic. First, the decision on whether to accept to move to India - thus leaving our friends, our jobs, our hardly conquered routine in DC, etc. Then, the run against time to organize our move: find someone to lease our apartment, someone to take care of the Vespa, update the vaccinations, get the visas, get the tickets, cancel our subscriptions, pay our bills, finalize our deliverables, decide what to bring and what not, prepare our luggages, take leave from our friends and colleagues…

In short, a true storm.

But as always - after the rain, the clearness comes. And so, after several frantic weeks, now that the decision is taken, the luggages prepared, friends have been said good-bye, etc. I finally feel in peace. And look forward to being on the plane to sleep 20 hours in a row, before starting this new chapter of our lives...

Happy birthday ‘little’ Davide!

Tanti auguri Davidino!

Eveline again

A few years ago, La Repubblica, one of the major Italian newspapers, launched an on-line forum on its website: “What is the book that changed your life?”. The participants to this forum were given 500 words to indicate the book they considered it changed their life, and to explain why.

In just a few days, several thousands of people participated to the forum, inducing a couple of journalists to write an article about it (http://www.repubblica.it/2005/j/sezioni/spettacoli_e_cultura/myboo/myboo/myboo.html?ref=search, and http://www.repubblica.it/2005/j/sezioni/spettacoli_e_cultura/myboo/librivita/librivita.html?ref=search). Answers ranged from ‘no book changes your life’ to ‘every book changes a bit your life’. And within these two opposite positions, the forum offered an interesting portrait of the titles and the authors that most influenced the Italians in the past 20-30 years.

But besides the light entertainment produced by reading others’ answers and finding back titles of books I loved (or of books I wish I had read but I didn’t), this forum deeply provoked me with its fundamental question: what was the book that changed ‘my’ life? I had never thought about it…

It’s not an easy answer. The book that changed your life is not necessarily the book that you liked the most. You need to find out whether there is a book that produced a change in your life (could be anything: a choice, the revelation or the understanding of something, etc.) - and consider that change ‘the’ change in your life. Or, on the other way round, you need to identify the big changes in your life, and find out whether they have been somehow inspired by the reading of a book…

It took me about two days, but I finally found it out: “Eveline”, one of the tales of ‘The Dubliners’, by James Joyce (http://hell.pl/agnus/anglistyka/Literatura/James%20Joyce%20-%20Eveline.pdf).

Eveline is the story of a young woman in the Dublin of the beginning of 1900. She leads a dreary and gloomy life: not wealthy, working hard to take care of the two young brothers, dominated by her violent father. She suddenly has the opportunity to change her life when Frank, the man she is courted with, proposes her to follow him in Argentina, where he is about to emigrate. However, though initially kindled by the perspective of escaping from her present life, Eveline is finally unable to leave, stuck by the fear of leaving the known - even if miserable - for the unknown…

From the first time I read this tale, Eveline became the model of how I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want the fear for the new and the unknown (which everyone feels) could prevent me from the opportunities that the new and the unknown bring along. And every time I had to take a decision in which I had to weight the two - the uncertainty full of risks (but also opportunities) of the new vs the sense of comfort and security of the known - I thought of Eveline, hold my breath, and jumped into the unknown…

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

(Robert Frost)

28 September

Tanti auguri, happy birthday, खुशी जन्मदिन (in hindi...)

10 reasons why we are excited about going to India

(1) Because we have never been to India (M&M’s)

(2) Because after almost five years at head-quarters, it was a while we were considering to get back to the field (M&M’s)

(3) Because the Himalayas are just two hours and half away… (Matteo)

(4) Because I love the Indian accent (Mathilde)

(5) Because I look forward to eating Indian every day (Mathilde)

(6) Because we already have a long list of people who will come to visit us (M&M’s)

(7) Because changes are opportunities for growth (M&M’s)

(8) Because after so much Africa, it was time to discover a new continent… (M&M’s)

(9) Because India is not too far from Nepal and Bhutan (Matteo), and from Thailand and the Maldives (Mathilde)

(10)Because, as Alex said, India is the ‘mother land’, and everybody needs to visit it at least once in his/her life (M&M’s)

How we are getting prepared to India

We realized our last posts were a bit nostalgic, and that we needed to cheer our readers up. It’s true, we have somehow, at the bottom of our hearts, the feeling of undertaking a non-return path. Who really knows what will happen and where we will we be in one year. In our mind Kathmandu is as likely as DC… At the same time, we are getting more and more excited about the perspective of this new adventure (a new country, a new culture, new people and hopefully new friends...) - and we are getting prepared to it.

We realized we knew very little about India. So, from where to begin with? Some people get to know everything about the economics and the politics of the country they are moving to. Some the history. Some read the literature. Some the travel guides. Some watch movies, and some listen to the music.

We, more simply, entered the words “Indian accent” in a search engine. And these are the results…

- How to say ‘hello’ in Indian (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQqzROAZZQ0)
- Indian accent (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vw6RgIf6epQ&feature=related)
- Kids’ education (http://www.youtube.com/user/arommendahl?blend=1&ob=4)
- […]

Laugh with us, and come to visit us !

10 reasons why we will be missing DC…

(1) Because, after Milan and Paris, this is the city where we spent most of our lives - and we start feeling as it was becoming our home…

(2) Because we loved the almost overbearing presence of green and nature in DC - and the almost infinite possibilities of outdoor activities just outside DC…

(3) Because we both have a job that we like - and we know this is a combination that is not always easy to get…

(4) Because, despite the 12 hours spent at Ikea, arguing on every piece of the furniture, we furnished our flat the way we like - and we think it well reflects the way we are…

(5) Because we feel we haven’t yet finished discovering America…

(6) Because I’ll be missing my daily bike ride to the office along the Potomac... (Mathilde)

(7) Because I like the international environment that DC offers (Matteo)

(8) Because after years of changes, moves, resettlements, we finally found a routine here…

(9) Because cows are not holy here, and I can have a hamburger as those served at the Diner’s whenever I want… (Matteo)

(10)Because your home is where you have your friends - and we will be missing our friends!

Farewells continue...

Another farewell. Yesterday we hosted our own farewell party. Again, a mix of different feelings: cheerfulness for being once more all together, and melancholy for knowing it will likely be one of the last time we are all together…

Thank-you to all our friends to have come to tell us good-bye - this was a wonderful present. We wait you all in India; take advantage of us: come and visit us…

Farewells begin...

As the departure date approaches, the number of farewell parties, drinks, lunches and dinners exponentially increases.

Yesterday we were invited for dinner at Padma and Alex' (the prospective opera singer and the… well, it is difficult to frame Padma, as any definition would not make her justice). Healthy dinner, pleasent evening. We will miss these friends - so different from us and yet so complementary - very very much.

Today it was the turn of my farewell lunch with my colleagues from TerrAfrica. Again, a very moving moment…

When I moved to the Bank a few years ago, I was somehow worried to enter in an institution of hyper-competitive people, sharks, people ‘better-not-to-trust too much’ or ‘better-not-to-open-up too much with’ because they could knife you in your back…. Since my first day in the office, since the first persons I met (Steve in the lobby, Beula in front of Christophe’s office, Ayala in the “dangeoun-basement”), I realized how groundless were my fears. My colleagues in the TerrAfrica team soon became among my best friends here in DC, my reference points, someone I felt I could always count on.

And now that the date of the departure approaches, while the excitement for the new adventure increases, the sadness for loosing them increases in equal amount. I like to think to this experience as a long (actually very long) mission, after which I will find back all of them, as nothing has changed, as nothing has moved. However, I learnt how precarious and unstable are the lives of us ‘development professionals’... Change seems to be the driving force among us. So what we leave today, most likely won’t be found back tomorrow.

With this irrational but well clear feeling I get closer to our departure date - feeling (and fearing) that I won’t meet some of these people with whom I shared so much in the past years again.

So be it India...

After weeks of meditation, hesitation, humming and hawing, we have finally made our decision... and so be it India!

Attenziò, concentraziò, ritmo e… vitalitá!

Attenziò. Concentraziò. Ritmo e... vitalitá... Mentre si va via via attenuando l’energia accumulata durante il mio blitz aquilano per partecipare al matrimonio di Federico e Germana, rimangono ancora vivissimi i ricordi e le sensazioni di quella giornata.

É stato bello rivedere amici che ormai vedo sempre piú raramente ma a cui mi sento ancora cosí legato. Mi sono sentito orgoglioso di essere riuscito ad essere presente in un giorno cosí importante della vita di Federico. E per una giornata mi sono sentito come in una dimensione diversa, ubriacato dall’energia di questo evento... Non ho quasi sentito il jet-leg del viaggio dagli Stati Uniti. Non mi é pesato il Milano-Roma-L’Aquila-Roma-Milano in neanche 24 ore, il ballare fino alle tre di notte, il rientrare a Roma alle cinque di mattina, il dormire due ore in un bed&breakfast prima di riprendere un treno per Milano...

Mi sono sentito come in una bolla, vivendo le emozioni con passione adolescenziale, come se ci fosse ancora tutto il 'midollo della vita da succhiare', come se non ci fosse ieri, come se non ci fosse domani...

É impossibile riprodurre a parole l’atmosfera di quella sera. Forse i 30 secondi di questo video(*) potranno in qualche modo rievocarla tra coloro che c’erano. O forse potrá il ritornello di questa canzone dei Bandabardó: “Attenziò. Concentraziò. Ritmo e...Vitalità! Devo dare di gas. Voglio energia. Metto carbone e follia. Se mi rilasso, collasso: mi manca l'aria. E l'allegria. Perciò... Attenzió...” (**)

(*) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fd7oG6SpKNA
(**) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKxL24bNyrg

Ed ecco qui anche le foto del matrimonio di Fe & Germana...

And here there are Federico & Germana’s wedding pictures (check: http://picasaweb.google.com/matteo.marchisio)

Renato & Carito's wedding pictures on-line (finally!)

Renato and Carito's wedding pictures have been posted at: http://picasaweb.google.com/mmmarchisio

Vote your favourite one!

Labour Day brings the Summer away

The American calendar is beaten by different festivities and holidays. So, Thanksgiving, the last Thursday of November, brings families together in America as much as Christmas in Europe. Martin Luther King’s Day, the third Monday of January, is an opportunity for a ‘skiing’ week-end. The President Day (or Washington’s Birthday), on the third Monday of February, is when newly elected presidents take office (and when many stores, especially car dealers, hold sales). Memorial Day, the last Monday in May, can be compared to the Italian ‘April 25th’: an opportunity for a day in the country-side. Independence Day, on July 4th, marks de facto the beginning of summer, and Labour Day, the first Monday of September, marks on the other hand the end of it. Public swimming-pools close, the entitlement to ‘causal’ dressing-code in offices ends, and beginning from Tuesday, flip-flop are banned and ties become compulsory again…

Consistent with American traditions, we decided to spend our Labour-Day week-end as American families do: on the beach for the last swim of the year. We drove to Ocean City NJ, three-hour and half from DC, to join Clémence, Christophe, Clothilde, Rémi, Magdelone, and Pierre-Alois + their kids. Despite the very American occasion, the week-end ended-up being very ‘French’, i.e. sit for hours at the dining table with excellent food!

The week-end was also a deep immersion into babies’ business. Out of the four couples, we were the only one without kids (counting those in pipeline as well…). Well, let's say an 'interesting' experience to test our paternal or maternal desire…

Pictures of the week-end have been posted on: http://picasaweb.google.com/mmmarchisio