April showers....

You know it's springtime in Bologna when the prostitutes begin to appear like tulips along the Via Emila. Once the Roman road that went from Ravenna through Bologna and on to Piacenza and other parts northwest is now a major state highway that seems to attract the world's oldest profession like no other in the area. Let me put my otherwise puerile American sensibilities aside to discuss the inherrent danger to society of said practice. It's perilous and must be stopped! Not because of any outright moral indignation (I'll save that to our venerable politicians) but because when I'm zipping along at 100km/h in my late model Nissan Micra I do not want to scratch my main means of transportation on the side of some cretinous fool who has stopped on the side of the road in the misty darknes to inquire as to any spring sales or discounts being offered for said old profession. There must be cars, and nice ones at that, stopped every 100 meters on the outskirts of town conducting their negotiations. Prostitution is indeed ileagal here but I would have figured that the Italians would have figured out a better way to move such carnal activities indoors and tax the bejesus out of it than simply making it against some law. Now that would be a sin tax! I mean, they will fine the crap out of you if you exit your vehicle along the highway for mechanical reasons and are not wearing a fluorescent safety vest. So how come the ladies of the evening don't have to wear one? The johns could spot them even more easily. Come on boys, as they say, get a room.

Working girls notwithstanding, the rain has brought out things other than the birds and the bees and brought down one government. Berlusconi aside, today is the Festa della Liberazione or the 60th anniversary of Italy's liberation from the Fascists and Nazi Germany. Town dignitaries sporting ribbons have sprung up on podiums in the piazzas everywhere to offer laudatory speeches in honor of the fallen of Europe's greatest tragedy. Commemorative posters are on trees everywhere and bunting draped over statues. This is to be contrasted with the rainbow peace flags draped from many a balcony in this region. The war is still a vivid memory for many of Europe's most aged country. I would posit that that is really the main reason why there is so much opposition in continental Europe to the goings on in Iraq and Afghanistan: People here remember what it is like to have been invaded and to have witnessed so much destruction and are therefore a bit more gunshy about using military force to solve geopolitical problems.

In January 1945 Crespellano, from where I'm writing this dispatch, was bombed by the U.S. Army Air Corps as it was a staging area for German troops outside of Bologna. The Allies had had to delay their offensive to penetrate the Gothic Wall along the Appenines south of Bologna until spring because of bad weather. All throughout the spring of 1945, vicious fighting occured along this front against several divisions of dug-in German troops. Bologna was bombed relentlessly as it was a main rail and communications hub and the last stand before the open plains of the Po River valley that led straight to Germany from the south. The Allies finally took Bologna in mid-April 1945 and caused over 70,000 casualties among retreating German troops trapped between Bologna and the Po River. Stefania's father, who was born during the war, doesn't remember much of the war but recalled the misery and destruction of the post-war years. The Vigarani family hid in the hills near Sasso Marconi, south of Bologna. He told me that the Ospedale Maggiore where I wait for the bus is not the real main hospital of Bologna but a new one built after the war to replace the one that was destroyed at another location.

Anyway, Italians love to make the "ponte" or "bridge" a two day weekend into three or four. We've been staying here in Crespellano while Stefania's parents went to open their small apartment at Cesenatico for the season. Since my classes fell through for the moment because of clients' financing problems (happens a lot since some classes are publicly funded to help increase Italian firms' competitiveness), I've been working on my resume and my Italian. I'm not too optimistic at the moment as to long-term job prospects because what I do kind of falls between the cracks of the design world. Teaching for me is fun but it's hard to pay the bills. Luckily Stef has a good job with some good fringe benefits so we'll be fine. There's plenty of other things for me to work on for the time being. Moreover, I can't work legally yet even if someone offered me a job; my appointment at the "questura" to file my papers for a long-stay permit and a temporary work permit is May 11. My teaching is legal because it's run by a British company.

Since my cold and jet lag are gone, we profited from the long weekend like any good American family by going to the Shopville mall at Casalechio di Reno. It looks like any other mall in the world on the inside and we made a beeline straight for the big electronics store, kind of like BestBuy. Our mission, to get me a cell phone so I wouldn't get lost again. Since I don't have a "codice fiscale" (social security number) that is evidence of official residence, Stef had to do the buying. I settled on a Motorola model. All the new ones have video cameras, email etc. This one is also a tri-band which will work anywhere in the world. All ofEurope works on the GSM system which offers more bandwidth than in the States and the added feature that you can remove the SIM card, for example, and place it and all your info in another phone. You can get a plan like in the U.S. or buy cards that have a set number of minutes so you don't ring up a giant bill. That done, we exited and walked past some new Nissans on display in the main gallery. It was funny to see a new Pathfinder; it's enormous compared to most cars. And a Pathfinder wouldn't even be considered a big SUV at home. Good luck filling that puppy up or finding a parking place.

With gas being at almost 5 bucks a gallon you really learn to think twice about where you go and how you drive. All of you kind readers who have minivans would be spending 100 large a week to fill up the typical 20 gallon tank or spending almost $500 a month on gas alone for one car. Stefania has a 35 litre tank and we spent 40 euros to fill 'er up. So when the wife runs in to the post office to mail a letter, you don't sit with the car idling, you don't idle for trains or run the AC unless it's boiling outside. Which brings up the question, 'why is it so much?' Well, one reason is that the Italian government tries to pass on the true cost of driving to drivers in order to discourage people from consuming too much. Believe you me, if gas were cheap, they'd all be buying 12-cylinder sports cars. In addition, the taxes help fund the Italian state. These are the hidden costs of life in Italia. Healthcare for all, guaranteed state pensions all around equals higher consumption taxes. If you have a family health plan at Knight Ridder they get you for 250 or so a month; here they get you at the pump. According to CNN, the base price of gas here is $1.72 gallon, the rest is taxes. So it's hard to compare apples to oranges. To top it off, now that the weather is getting warmer (hopefully), certain days of the week are off limits to all motorized vehicles in the center of town to combat smog problems in dense Italian cities. I'm not sure how that effects buses of scooters since it hasn't happened in Bologna yet. And if you leave a light on here you'll go straight to hell. No natural resources means, yes, higher prices. Houses are also wired to accept about a third of the electricity as a typical house in the States. That's why most people don't bother with buying a clothes dryer. We have a really high-tech wahser by Whirlpool (all digital) but no dryer. So, they sell all of these cool contraptions you can put outside or in the bathroom to dry your clothes.

If you come here you'd better also master the stick shift and finding diesel fuel. Haven't seen one automatic car here (sorry dad). A properly driven manual car uses about 5 percent less fuel than its automatic counterpart. Ask Tom Strongman about this, but I believe that auto transmission on cars in the States is still like an $800 option even if they don't offer a manual!Most cars here are these new high-tech turbo diesels because diesel fuel is slightly cheaper. They don't smell like they used to. Knowing how to drive is another thing. Most people are fairly reasonable but tend to be a little more agressive. The problem is the geezers in their old Fiat Pandas or the guys that think they are qualifying for Formula 1 and drive down the middle of the road to pass one car then to be behind 10 others. Italians hurry up so they can then slow down.

The police tend to take a laid back approach here. I asked Stefania why prostitution is allowed along highways or people are allowed to drive like maniacs. The answer is always "Multe" or fines. Fines are the answer to everything. She maintains that, historically, Italians have always been impossible to govern and this complete individualism and everyman for himself ethos rules to this day, which can be a problem when trying to be part of the EU. People only respond when they are fined. If drivers are caught, the rules are strict and severe--points lost off license, steep fines. Prostitution, the same: high fines. But when the coppers go on their monthly stings the girls are of course sprung from jail by well-financed "representatives." Most of the prostitutes are "extracomunitari" who are shipped in and out like cargo and it's hard to stem the tide with limited resources. It's not the world's oldes profession for nothing. Italians aren't proud of this public eyesore but most just shrug and say "what are you going to do? You don't like it? Don't go there."

The payoff for safely completing the Prostitute Slalom is a night out spent with friends starting out at Mama Club. This is an aperitivo club on the top floor of a palazzo on Via Farini near the historic center of town. An aperitivo club is something new whereby you pay 10 euros (only guys pay) and then are ushered into these beautiful rooms with 15-foot ceilings adorned with frescoes and cool music playing over the hidden speakers. There are modern works of art and trays of finger food laid out at strategic locations. There are also private rooms that can be rented. The guys and the girls look like they stepped out of GQ or Vogue. You hand the barkeep the token they give at the door then are entitled to one drink. We all chose sparkling wine, had some hors d'oeuvres and then made our way to our next stop, a great little bistro near the Sette Chiese (Seven Churches) on Via Gerusalemme called L'Infedele. The great thing about Italy is that no one can smoke indoors anymore, not even in bars! And it seems to be working. Not a cig in site. I had the Emiliano plate of warm toasted bread, mortadella and cicci coldcuts washed down with a nice local read wine. All six of us ate, cad wine and coffee and a shot of vodka for 70 euros. By the time we left at midnight, the place was teaming. I didn't think you could get so many people into such a small place.

The night finished with a beautiful walk under the poticoes to Via Ugo Bassi to check in on my two old medieval friends, the two towers of Bologna follwed by a left turn and winding tour through the maze of cobbled streets behind the Piazza Maggiore.Throngs of people congregated in hidden corners under the porticoes or spilled out of small clubs by the university. We had one last stop to make: ice cream! Some of the best there is, made with real cream. We bid goodnight to one third of our group, drop Paola and Gabriele back off at their phat pad off of Via Andrea Costa and repeat the prostitute Slalom back to Crespellano for the night. Not bad.

Sunday was spent driving through the beautiful foothills of the Appenines to the hilltop abbey of Abbazia di Monteveglio followed by a relaxing evening with Paola and Gabriele watching movies with their kids.

Until next time. Sopinski out.