Today, my thoughts have been consumed by Jenna and the boys and their pending arrival on Friday. I'm concerned about the safety of the flight. Is the trip worth the risk, given that we've been given no hard information about the ash's effect on the engines? Can it really cost that much to tear apart one engine, check the damage, and comfort everyone? I think not.The necessity of work kept me occupied. Today, on my walk to the office -- left out the door, cross the street, veer right at the two towers and then follow portico covered Strada Maggiore -- I got caught by surprise. I noticed a church entrance not marked on my two Euro map. I thought it might be cute. Turns out to be among the more ornate churches I've seen in Bologna. Just gorgeous. (see left)
How did I miss a church this large? Easy. The porticoes limit the visible height of any entrance to fifteen feet or so. With a porch overhead, you cannot tell whether you're standing at the base of the Empire State Building or a thatched roof hut.
The porticoes
also hide the towers. Walking around you wouldn't know this is a city full of towers, then you cross the street. Suddenly, you get a clear view and become aware that you're an easy shot for the flaming arrow laden archers situated at the top of that tower at the end of the street.I have odd affectation that I learned on the streets of Chicago. I stand up close to the towers and look up, so that they appear to be thousands of feet high. Cool eh?
The pictures that I've published so far highlight the beauty of Bologna -- the old Roman roads and walls, the churches, and the towers, always the towers. A more honest appraisal of the city would reveal graffiti. Why, one might ask, would someone paint on such beautiful doors and walls? Why mar buildings that have been around for over a thousand years?
Lack of power, and lack of pride. These people are not included in the power structure of the city. They don't care about these old buildings, but they know that those in power do. For that reason, I'm told that people in the city are of mixed mind. Some want it cleaned up and harsher punishment on offenders. Others think the graffiti should remain until the city is more equitable. When that happens, the graffiti will stop.
I'm told that in some of the more closer knit towns to the North, they have community wide clean-up days, in which everyone comes together to beautify the town. That can only be accomplished in a place in which people feel a sense of collective ownership. Bologna has a ways to go.Have I not mentioned food yet? How serious have I become? Tonight, I met with my friend Marco who took me to a really interesting place in the center of town that offers yoga and dance classes, places for people to meet, and has a nifty vegetarian, organic cafeteria. That's right, I used a tray!!! Even so, good food (this is Italy). I had a fabulous polenta casserole.
Marco then took me to a funky organic gelato place. You approach it from the sidewalk and these two huge plastic windows slide open like a sun roof on it's side. Totally cool. It also had blue and green block tile. Perfect mix for Jenna and the boys -- tile, gelato, and futuristic windows.
I'm having
a wonderful time teaching. I've got more people coming to my class now then there were at the beginning. They're so laid back here. For example, some guy from Germany who's just hanging out in town heard about the class and is observing. I don't know if I'm more impressed by him for being so intellectually engaged or in the University of Bologna for being so encouraging of him sitting in the class.Tonight, in the shadow of the towers, as I hurredly returned home from my evening with Marco so that I could see the lovely Jenna on Skype, I stopped to watch a merry band of about a hundred students. Leading the way were three young men pulling a wagon carrying another young man playing a bass cello. Intermixed in the crowd were others playing guitar.
I stood for a precious moment and just sucked in the raw expression of life.
