Io e Laura stavamo sorseggiando la nostra birra al Blå decidendo se optare per il concerto dei Belle and Sebastian o quello dei Mogway, in programma lo stesso giorno del prossimo Marzo.
Un vecchietto allampanato norvegese si ferma dinanzi a noi. Indossa il classico maglione norvegese blu e rosso con i fiocchi di neve ricamati e ride di gusto. Ci apostrofa cosi':
- Aggie state 13 anni a Napoli!. (con accento norvegese marcato!)
- E che facevi?
- O parcheggiator, ngopp Casert!
- E dove vivevi?
- A Poggiomarocco?
- Poggiomarocco?
- Si, a Poggiomarino, mmiezzz e marrucchin!
Afferma di essere amico di Padre Pio ma non della chiesa, di essere andato molte volte a Torre Annunziata in bicicletta vestito come un albero di Natale (a fare cosa?) e che la birra "me ncepp".
Un giovane norvegese paffutto e con barba metal si avvicina e ci chiede se stessimo parlando portoghese (???). Ipotizza che siamo in Norvegia perche ci piace il Metal e vogliamo incendiare le chiese, perche' e' quello che fanno tutti gli Italiani a Oslo. Aggiunge che lui non ha nulla contro i cristiani ma si diverte a bruciare i pentagrammi nelle foreste, 'cause you don't have to dress up for it."
Sostiene che dietro l'acquisto dei rifiuti di Napoli da parte della Norvegia ci sia un tentativo di discretare gli anarchici da parte dei comunisti e tira fuori sigle, numeri, documenti segreti.
Il vecchietto norvegese che si chiama Trigve ma si fa chiamare Vitto' si ingelosisce del nostro nuovo amico e cerca di monopolizzare di nuovo la conversazione con il suo napoletano fluente.
"Me n'aggia ii'. C'o verimm"
E il soggetto anarchico e' raggiunto da un altro amico paffuto e dice: "I have to go and take care of this friend."
Uno se ne va verso il ponticello a destra, l'altro rientra nel locale.
Io e Laura interdette ci avviamo verso un kebab shop.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The postman
My three weeks holidays in Italy are over and I am back to Oslo.
It has been such an experience. The first time for me to be in hometown by myself, I mean, without anyone in tow. Tragedies have been wisely avoided, showing enough fear and respect by both parts and deep understanding by mutual friends. I actually experienced a nice feeling of freedom, and rewarded by the attention and care given by long-standing friends and newly-found old-friends.
Newly-found old-friends. The postman came back, after more than 5 years. From the emotional farewell given on the steps of ULU building in London, to platform number 8 in Milano train station. I watched him looking around to find me on the platform while I was standing far. I couldn't associate this image with the name that I repeated to myself and to my close friends so many times, so I couldn't step further.
The thing is that five years ago love meant "idealization" while now, it turned to be "no expectations". Thus, while my cynic side of the brain was saying: "distrust", my romantic side was choosing the soundtrack for this film-like meeting and my aesthetic side was saying that he looked more beautiful than ever. All that while he was coming closer and closer.
So, what about if you start with no expectations, you just go there because you want to add another adventure to your exciting life, and than you discover than reality is so sadly better than dreams?
Where have you been in these five years? Circumstances.
But the truth is that we were not ready for it.
What about if you get close to someone from the other way round?
What about if you discover that you are incredibly similar and you keep saying to yourself that for this reason it wouldn't work?
We don't know each other, so we can tell everything and being clear from the first moment. Then, we are living a similar phase in our life: we have both been taken to a new place by circumstances, both fed up with distance, both living alone for the first time, both still writing, in our solitary cozy apartments, making up funny endings for our short stories.
This weekend maybe does not take to anywhere. But we dreamt about new travels, films to be watched and written, songs to be exchanged and larger beds to be warmed.
It it's a rose, it will blossom, my father told me on the phone.
For now, it's only the image of two pigeons cooing under the glass roof of Milano station.
Noah and the whale - Five years time
It has been such an experience. The first time for me to be in hometown by myself, I mean, without anyone in tow. Tragedies have been wisely avoided, showing enough fear and respect by both parts and deep understanding by mutual friends. I actually experienced a nice feeling of freedom, and rewarded by the attention and care given by long-standing friends and newly-found old-friends.
Newly-found old-friends. The postman came back, after more than 5 years. From the emotional farewell given on the steps of ULU building in London, to platform number 8 in Milano train station. I watched him looking around to find me on the platform while I was standing far. I couldn't associate this image with the name that I repeated to myself and to my close friends so many times, so I couldn't step further.
The thing is that five years ago love meant "idealization" while now, it turned to be "no expectations". Thus, while my cynic side of the brain was saying: "distrust", my romantic side was choosing the soundtrack for this film-like meeting and my aesthetic side was saying that he looked more beautiful than ever. All that while he was coming closer and closer.
So, what about if you start with no expectations, you just go there because you want to add another adventure to your exciting life, and than you discover than reality is so sadly better than dreams?
Where have you been in these five years? Circumstances.
But the truth is that we were not ready for it.
What about if you get close to someone from the other way round?
What about if you discover that you are incredibly similar and you keep saying to yourself that for this reason it wouldn't work?
We don't know each other, so we can tell everything and being clear from the first moment. Then, we are living a similar phase in our life: we have both been taken to a new place by circumstances, both fed up with distance, both living alone for the first time, both still writing, in our solitary cozy apartments, making up funny endings for our short stories.
This weekend maybe does not take to anywhere. But we dreamt about new travels, films to be watched and written, songs to be exchanged and larger beds to be warmed.
It it's a rose, it will blossom, my father told me on the phone.
For now, it's only the image of two pigeons cooing under the glass roof of Milano station.
Noah and the whale - Five years time
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)