We are at our place in Italy for Pasqua (Easter). I have not been here for ten months, an unusually long time. Whenever I booked a flight last year, something important came up, causing me to cancel. John and one of our daughters spent a little time here last summer, but it has been tanto tempo (too much time) for me. Allora (well then), here we are at last.
After ten months, there is village news to catch up on. The padrone (owner) of one of our favorite ristoranti (restaurants) has been separated from his wife for eight months. We should have seen it coming when we heard she once threatened him with a knife. On the other hand, this is a country where theatrical arguments can erupt over a recipe, so it's better not to read too much into things like arguments with knives. We heard subsequently that the knife was not affilato (sharp).
Sadly, the charming and hard-working Mamma at the local caffe/gelateria had a bad fall a few months ago and it has caused a real change in her. Her bustling walk has been replaced by shuffling, timid steps, and her mind seems semi-vacant. When we greeted her, she looked at us with confusion, then mild recognition when prompted.
Despite her enfeebled state, we noticed that she still cleared used cups from the tables and straightened the display of pastries under glass. She is on auto-pilot. She has always reminded me of my grandmother, right down to her painted toenails, so I am sad to see the change in her. Her daughter has a practical philosophy: La vita e` cosi (life is like that).
The padrone of the town's central caffe/pizzeria is in good form. He always seems genuinely happy to see us, though his demeanor behind the bar is generally gruff. We caught up on the news and then the conversation turned to food, as it almost always does with an Italian. The traditional Easter feast here includes agnello e spinaci (lamb and spinach). He told us i giovani (the younger generation) don't like lamb so there will be pollo (chicken), too. It is also traditional to eat una columba (a dove), a fruited bread formed in the shape of the bird that connotes peace.
At lunch with one of our most ebullient friends, the talk turned from how to cook baby carciofi (artichokes) to Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. You don't see the connection? Food and the Berlusconi trial are important topics in Italy and one can slide into one or the other without taking a breath.
In the trial, Berlusconi is accused of paying for sex with a woman under the age of 18. She is known as Ruby Rubacuori (heartstealer) in the nightclubs where she dances. Both she and he have denied the charges.
(source: Daily Telegraph)
He is also charged with abusing his position as prime minister by asking for her release from a Milan police station after she was arrested for stealing a bracelet. He said he thought she was the niece of former President Mubarak of Egypt (she is Moroccan by birth) and he did not want to cause an international incident.
Berlusconi is the longest serving prime minister in post-World War II Italy, and one of its richest men, worth around $9 billion. His empire includes media (almost all Italian TV stations and the newspaper Il Giornale), advertising, insurance, food and construction. In this soccer-crazed country, he also owns one of its best teams: AC Milan.
He built the empire on his own, not through inheritance (though there is always talk about Mafia connections), and Italians admire that. It's easy to make money when you come from it, not so easy when you don't. His ability to run a successful empire has been sufficient evidence for many of them that he can run their country, too.
(source: Photobucket)
It is hard to find criticism of him on Italian TV because he owns most of it. You do find a lot of provocatively-clad women selling or presenting. Collagen-enhanced lips seem to be a prerequisite, along with half-revealed breasts. The bigger the better for both.
(Rai TV)
Berlusconi, who has admitted he is "no saint," has a well-known weakness for women. His second wife, whom he met when she was a topless dancer, divorced him a few years ago saying, "He likes to consort with minors."
(Daily Telegraph)
He famously urged foreign businesses to come to Italy because "we have the best-looking secretaries." The parties at his villa outside of Milan have been part of the rumor mill for years. He describes them as "normal convivial dinners." Participants, who include cabinet ministers, business associates and young women who would like to be on one of his TV stations, say they are a lot more than that. They are now referred to worldwide as his "bunga-bunga" parties, another way of saying orgies.
While most women find his attitude abhorrent, men, and not only Italian ones, joke about him in an almost admiring way. I've heard young American and Irish men say, "Boy, I'd like to be invited to one of his parties!"
A refined and learned Italian diplomat and his wife who know Berlusconi described him this way to us two years ago: "He is a beautiful man! He loves life! He loves wine, he loves women, he loves beautiful things, he loves to laugh! And he is a good businessman!"
Now let's go back to lunch with our friend. He has "never voted for Berlusconi," but he thinks he has done some good things for the country. He mentioned bringing cable TV to Italy. As for the sexual peccadillos: "What a man does in his private house is his business! He is a single man! If he wants to pay to make boom-boom with a hundred women, that is his right! Of course, he will need medication and maybe oxygen!"
(Bazinga)
For a long time Berlusconi sex stories did not affect his popularity negatively, but finally there has been a definite erosion. Only 41% of the people now approve of him, down from 62%. Still, that is not that bad for a man who has made Italy synonymous with bunga-bunga and Ruby the Heartstealer.
The judges at his trial are all women. Their verdict will tell us a lot about Italy's current state of mind, unless his long reach has already determined the outcome.
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