A little more flair, the sheriff and the Falcon

JUNE 2 CREVALCORE—On Saturday night we went out with Roberta and Alessandro to a good Chinese restaurant. Food was actually quite good. You tend to get better service in “ethnic” restaurants than in your every day restaurant or store. The concept of customer service here is quasi non-existent. Moreover, waiters and waitresses are paid the same and don’t work for tips so there is no motivation. It’s actually quite pleasant when you get used to it. Customer service in the States has tended, in recent years, to have morphed into some kind of sycophantic co-dependent theater: “Good evening, folks!! Don’t you all look just wonderful tonight. My name’s Matt and I’ll be your server tonight, ummmkay?” (See the movie “Office Space.”) Half the time when you go out in Italy they show up after what seems like quite a while, by American tastes, and kind of stare at you with their pen poised to strike like a spectacled cobra. At one pizzeria a few weeks ago I thought Stef’s dad was going to come unglued. The restaurant was really busy and it took almost half an hour to get a server. When she finally showed up she just peered over her glasses and kept repeating, “E poi...” ( ‘And then...’) as each person ordered their first course and then their pizza. We were a party of nine so it was quite comical. That’s all she said the whole time. Most Italians wouldn’t make a scene, though, unless something really bad happened. It would be “brutta figura” (Literally, “ugly face” or a loss of face. The corresponding positive term is “bella figura” or making a good impression and thus save face.)

Italians just expect this lack of service as par for the course whenever they go out or go to stores and banks . As British author and long-time Italy resident Tim Parks notes, for all of their seeming flamboyant individualism, Italians are really consumate conformists. Living for thousands of years in dense villages has inspired people to sublimate their egos at certain times. There are times when they go along to get along and times when they would run over their grandmothers to get something. Lines are another foreign concept. But if one did not perceive another trying to cut in line and head it off by moving swiftly to occupy that space, there most likely would be no argument. It is simply expected that the early bird gets the worm. Same thing on the road. People will come up from behind and try to get around you and cut in front. This is simply expected. If you leave the space someone will take it; it’s your fault for not paying attention.

Stefania always tells me that I have to learn to be more aggressive. My seeming passivity grates on her. She always asks me why I let a person go ahead in line at a store or on the road. I say that I’m not letting people take advantage of me. I’ve made a conscious choice; if I’m not in a hurry I don’t care. I remind her that I used to be a teacher and can turn on the jets if I have to. I maintain that all of this posturing is a waste of energy. As I get more acclimated to life here, which is difficult, I just learn not to care what people think. I get points anyway for being American. Being an outsider sometimes has its advantages; I’m not expected to conform like a native-born Italian.

Like yesterday. I had my first run in with the law. I was coming back from Crespellano to Crevalcore and got stopped in the village or Calcara. Coming towards the village people were flashing their lights to signal that the cops were on the prowl. I wasn’t speeding so I didn’t pay too much attention. As I entered the village, I saw a car from the Polizia Nazionale on my left with a car pulled over. Poor bastard, I thought. Sure enough, I round the bend and there is an officer dressed in navy blue pants, light blue shirt with white bandolier and belt waving one of those cool white wands with a red reflector on the end. Busted. He signaled for me to pull over, which I did. I lowered the window and he said, “Buona sera, signore. I Suoi documenti per favore.” Seemed like a nice enough guy. His radio squawked as I fumbled for my documents. Never having been pulled over before, I wasn’t sure what they wanted to see. I first opened my wallet and took out my passport and explained that I was American and that this was my wife’s car. He wanted to see the registration and proof of insurance, too. So, nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers, I opened the glove box and pulled out a green plastic folder that had the insurance info. He still wanted to see the registration. I said that I’m sure it was there somewhere. So I started pulling out cds,Stef’s make up kit and maps. There was junk all over the front seat. By now it was hot and I was sweating bullets. Probably looked liked like I had a couple kilos in the trunk. He said, “Provi il portadocumenti.” ( ‘Try the document holder.”) I thought he was referring to the green folder. Little did I know that another blue document holder had fallen on the seat. I kept fumbling. Finally, I spotted it and opened it up. Sure enough, my international drivers’ license and the registration for the car were inside. I handed it to him and he nodded his head. He said that I would eventually need an Italian license since there was no American equivalent but that I probably had a year to get one after establishing residence. He wasn’t sure. He said I could go. I asked him, “Perché Lei mi ha fermato?” ( ‘Why did you stop me?’) He said, just a “controllo di documenti.” A routine stop to check papers.

Didn’t seem so routine to me. Whew. Luckily I wasn’t stopped by the Carabinieri. Maybe I should explain. I divide the police into two basic categories, although it’s actually much more complicated. Basically, there is the Polizia Nazionale who wear blue uniforms, usually dark blue pants, light blue shirts, white belts and bandoliers and regular police hats. These are the national police who deal with most crimes and traffic offenses, too. I think of the Vigili Urbani or municipale traffic police as a sub group of the polizia nazionale. The other main group is the Carabinieri who are kind of a state police force who are trained by the military and deal with a variety of crimes from the Mafia to traffic offenses. They wear uniforms similar to those of the Vigili but have a read stripe on their pants. They drive dark blue cars whereas the others drive white cars with a blue stripe that says, Polizia Municipale or Polizia Nazionale, on it. The Carabinieri are noted for being much tougher and thus harder to dissuade from issuing a ticket. Whenever I’m riding my bike and I see them pulling people over they are wearing big flak jackets over their uniforms. Looks much more intimidating. Of course, there are a variety of other services just like in the U.S. The Guardia Finanza are the financial police like our Secret Service and deal with crimes such as fraud. Stefania loves the RIS of Parma, the Polizia Scientifica di Parma. They are purportedly the best CSI team in Italy and were called in on the recent case of a young mother whose infant son had been drowned in the bathtub. They cracked the case by bringing evidence to bear that the facts didn’t match the woman’s description of the events; she cracked and spilled the beans. (When I was fingerprinted for my long stay permit it was at the PS of Bologna.)

What you’ve really got to watch for are the hidden Auto Velox high-speed cameras that take pictures of speeders. Then they just mail you the ticket. Lamborghini must have some sweetheart deal with the coppers. Their drivers pass by my house at least two or three times a day testing the new cars. They go around the corner to the cemetery parking lot where they do circles and figure eights as fast as they can, stop to write down some data, then roar off back to the factory. If you’ve never heard the roaring growl of a 12-cylinder, 500-plus horsepower engine, you’re missing something special. I can now tell the difference between a Ferrari engine, which has a much higher-pitched whine, from the lower, more throaty Lamborghini power plant. It’s fun to watch them go over the numerous speed bumps here since they sit about an inch off the ground and almost have to come to a complete stop. This surprised me the other day. I was behind the black one they’ve been working on and was on my way to pick up Stef from work. I was right on his tail when he suddenly hit the brakes to go over the speed bump that I had forgotten about. I almost rammed into the back of a $500,000 car! If I ever see them parked with the door up I’m going to try to talk to the driver. Maybe someday he’ll let me ride with him!

Last night was the big charity soccer match in Milano for the Children of Tibet. Richard Gere was the de facto host. The teams were composed of one team of current and retired Serie A players, mostly from Milano, and a team of famous singers with some wringers like Leonardo thrown in to even out the sides. It was actually a good match. The singers won 6-4. Gere was interviewed several times, his interpreter whispering in his ear. The soccer season is over.....except for Bologna. Juventus took the “Scudetto” or championship from Milan AC. Bologna must play regional rivals, Parma, in a two game playoff to keep from being sent down to Serie B. The bottom four teams in points are sent down each year while the top four from Serie B are promoted. Bologna tied, 0-0 against Sampdonia during their last regular-season game on Sunday to force the playoff on June 14,18.

Calcio or soccer here is like the NBA in the States. It used to be the Beautiful Game, as Pelé once called it, but now is a bunch of preening divi who clutch and grab and hack each other up and down the field. It’s still the number one sport followed by cycling but the rights to games cost so much that you can’t see or watch a game except by pay-per-view. To view Bologna’s last game would have cost 15 euros. You pay less per match if you order the season package but there is no reason; Bologna is relegated to perpetual mediocrity because there is no revenue sharing and thus they cannot compete with the top teams like Berlusconi-owned Milan AC and Juventus of Torino. Last time they won the Scudetto was in 1966, I believe. Sound familiar?

Cycling, all the doping scandals notwithstanding, is great because it’s still accessible and everyone here rides. Besides, cycling does more than any other sport to test athletes. Saying that soccer players are clean is like saying baseball players are clean—until recently there weren’t any controls at all, so how could you tell?

Paolo Salvoldelli, Il Falco (The Falcon) from Bergamo, who rides for Lance’s Discovery Channel team won the Giro d’Italia on Sunday. It was great to see. He is 32 years old and won the 2002 edition before he was sidelined for two years because of illness and injury, including breaking his collar bone this past January. He is the thinking man’s cyclist; very quiet and unassuming who uses his brain to make up for the gaps in his physical abilities. He isn’t a killer like Lance. He says that a champion says what they’re going to do then goes out and does it. He, on the other hand, tries to manage the whole race, taking time where he can and minimizing time losses on days when he isn’t the best.

His shining moment came last Saturday on the penultimate stage of the Giro with the now infamous 17km climb of the Colle delle Finestre, the top 8km being over unpaved, dusty roads. Big mouthed climber Gilberto Simoni was in second, two minutes down on Salvoldelli. As predicted he took off on the big climb knowing that The Falcon was not the best climber. He found out why they call Salvoldelli The Falcon on the other side. He didn’t try to stay with Simoni on the climb, preferring to ride within himself and manage his losses. Simoni worked with eventual 4th place finisher Danilo DiLuca and a group of others including 3rd place finisher and stage winner José Rujano. Simoni was greedy and used all of his energy on the climb to become virtual race leader on the road by the summit, eliminating the two minute deficit earned by Salvoldelli’s excellent performance in the previous day’s time trial. That is when The Falcon came out to play. He hit the jets over the rutted, dusty roads up and over the summit gaining a half dozen allies along the way who paced him. Simoni, never the diplomat, had dropped everyone but DiLuca and Rujano by the bottom of the descent. Salvoldelli then did what he does arguably better than anyone else in the history of cycling and descended at 70 mph to bring Simoni back to within a minute and a half and maintain his race lead. Simoni was now isolated with a cramping DiLuca and a 49kg super flyweight Rujano who refused to pull forcing the former to do all the work. DiLuca fell back and Simoni had to cover 10km of flat roads and a small climb to the finish doing all of the pulling. Salvoldelli had more than six other riders to pace him to the line. This is where past sins can come to haunt a rider. Simoni is outspoken, seemingly not very tactically bright and therefore found himself alone when he needed people to help him the most. The Falcon found a small group of allies who had no reason to help Simoni. Without the help, Salvoldelli couldn’t have maintained his winning margin. He won the Giro on Sunday with a 28-second lead. Bravo Paolo.The stage was so exciting that Tour de France officials are considering using that climb in a future Tour as it is right on the French border.

Makes me want to go ride. Think I will take my own advice.