Lessons of Florence

Florence is a city – like LA actually – which is framed by hills and cut by a body of water – the Arno River.  Even though it’s a small city, it encompasses many different worlds.  For a tourist who comes here their average 1.5 giorni (days) of visiting the city will never allow them to truly know her.  And she deserves being known.  Not only because of the obvious – her beauty and history as well as the ridiculous plethora of artistic, intellectual and scientific work that was established within her walls molti anni fa (many years ago) but because of the small worlds created by the people who live here today.

There are two places within this glorious city which, apart from my apartment, I call home.  They are both outside the invisible boundary of the average Florence Adventure most tourists map out for their time here and they are also not well known to locals – Italian or expatriate.  Ironically (or not) they are of course both food-related experiences.  They are not, however, technically restaurants even though they serve food and you do pay for it.  That’s one thing I love about Italy.  There are so many laws here which have been established over the years that you can actually run a business which has all the trappings of a restaurant, but legally is not one.  And maybe this is what makes these two places so special to me.  Well, it’s a part of what makes them special.  More so, it’s the people who own them and the way they welcome me.  It’s the atmosphere they have created and the locations where they are found. 

When I talk to students in our Creative Campus program at Florence International Theatre Company I tell them something which all tourists (and actually many residents) should try.  Stand at the Duomo, choose a direction and just walk for twenty or twenty-five minutes.  Then you’ll see Florence.  If you happen to choose to walk across the Arno River, over the Ponte Carraia (and past my favorite gelateria – Gelateria Carraia) you might find yourself in San Frediano.  You might find yourself walking past Chiesa Carmine and down the quiet neighborhood street of Via Orto.  And if you do, you’ll eventually find a storefront on your right that says “Club Paradiso.”  There are white curtains on the front and you can’t see in.  But don’t let this stop you… open the door and enter and you will have stepped into another world.  Andrea or his wife Manuela will greet you.  You’ll be given a place at one of the wooden tables in this old fondo (basement) with brick ceilings, the original terracotta tiles on the floor, walls covered with police and military plaques as well as pictures of Manuela and Andrea’s granddaughter and, possibly, some local polizia (police) or lavoratori (laborers) sitting at the table next to you.

Club Paradiso is a Circolo Enogastronomico which means it’s a “private club” for friends and associates of the founding members – Andrea and Manuela.  Andrea grew up in this neighborhood and loves it deeply.  When he was a young man he worked side by side with American college students to save the city after the Flood of 1966.  With Club Paradiso, he wanted to create a place where people would come and feel at home.  And that’s what he did.  I bring my Italian friends there who drool over the polpetta (meatballs) saying they are come fatto della mia nonna (like my grandmother made) or my visiting friends from the states say “I can’t believe you live here, I want your life.”  And I smile as I sip my wine because I know they are right.  Club Paradiso is a part of my “home” in Florence.  I practically live there.  Manuela knows I don’t eat meat or wheat and so they make me special plates of risotto and fresh vegetables always taking care that I eat enough.  Dinner there never takes less than two and a half hours and sometimes I’m there for much longer.  I love bringing people there to share this experience.  And Andrea and Manuela love welcoming them.

My other home would take you in an entirely different direction from the steps of the Duomo to a completely different world.  With the river behind you, you would walk toward one of the most unique buildings in the city because of its architecture - Tempio Maggiore, The Great Synagogue of Florence.  And it is great with its turquoise dome and its rich history.  It’s one of the largest buildings in Florence and one of the least visited because it doesn’t fit on the list for the 1.5 day vacation.  However, I am lucky to not be here for 1.5 days and to not have a list.  Often I find myself taking the walk to, not the Synagogue, but Ruth’s Kosher Vegetarian Restaurant which is next door.  Owned by my dear friend and fellow theatre artist, Thomas Simcha Jelenik, who has a personal story that could and should fill a book, Ruth’s is my haven in an entirely different way.  Ruth’s is technically a mensa (cafeteria) which was originally established to offer the small Jewish community of the city a place they could go to eat kosher food outside of their own homes.  When Simcha took over 7 years ago, he changed the menu from meat to dairy and fish (thank goodness for me!) and also focused on the atmosphere.  He wanted to welcome travelers to the city who either needed or wanted a kosher meal and he also gives the students who study in Florence a comfortable place to come to.

Not being Kosher, I don’t need or want a Kosher meal.  For me Ruth’s is something else - it’s a haven when every now and then I need to experience a little of that Jewish sensibility I grew up with in the east coast which I also had a hard time finding in LA.  Although Simcha is from Czechoslovakia, he embodies that for me and his version of Ruth’s reflects it.  The walls are covered with Woody Allen film stills and other celebrations of film and literary geniuses, he has a book shelf filled with things to read, is constantly giving me books he thinks are important and loves sharing the notes and artwork of people in his guest book who have traveled from all parts of the globe to find themselves in his world, eating delicious Mediterranean fare and feeling welcomed to stay for as long as they want, talking art and politics over hummus and blintzes.  Very few locals know Ruth’s – even people who have lived here all their lives.  But those who do become regulars pretty quickly.  When I bring someone for the first time they are thrilled with the food (it’s a nice change from Tuscan fare) and with the atmosphere.  Again my “wheat free meat free” restrictions are taken care of with attention.  And Simcha always brings me that incredible flourless chocolate cake which, although it wasn’t made just for me, always feels that way by the way he serves it.  There is a comfort at Ruth’s which is just like the comfort I feel at Club Paradiso.  I am welcomed, I am wanted, I am known and appreciated.  I am a friend and colleague and those who I choose to bring with me feel the same.

For me, these places and these people are a part of my Italian experience.  For me, this is home.  For me, this is Florence. 

Ciao Ragazzi.  Venite, perche’ no?

I was sitting in this very nice café in Greve with my friend Pauline drinking a cappuccino and talking about how truly challenging my life is at this moment when, in receiving her sage counsel and insights I looked for a pen in my purse.  I wanted to write down one or two things she was saying that I was particularly inspired by.  It was at that moment I realized that I had completely forgotten to get finger printed for my permesso di soggiorno (permission to stay in Italia).  I had gotten the dates wrong earlier in August and showed up two weeks too soon.  Then I put the official paper with the official stamp and signature in my purse - - and forgotten all about it.  I was supposed to go at 10am on the 20th.  Today was the 28th.  What was an American straniere (foreigner) to do?  A lifetime ago when I first arrived (really it is short of 3 years, but trust me life times have been lived since then) I would have been in a complete panic.  This is the government we’re talking about.  This is the Questura (police department) and it’s related to my ability to live here legally…… how could I be so irresponsible?  What will happen to me?  What will they do to me?  What will I do????

But, as I said, that was many lifetimes ago.  Now what I said is: “well, I’ll wander over there on Monday and explain that I forgot.  I’ll smile nicely at the man if it’s a guy (and hopefully it will be) and then I’m sure it will all work out.”  Pauline agreed and we went on with our conversation about the difficulties of my life in Florence.  And, this morning,  that’s pretty much what I did.  I walked over to the fingerprinting office and found the man who was responsible, smiled at him and told him I made a mistake and forgot.  He said I would have to go over to the Questura and “rifare il suo appuntomento”(make a new appointment officially at the police station).  I didn’t like that part because the Questura is not a nice place… it’s the place where all the immigrants in Florence have to go to deal with their legality and it’s organized chaos and takes forever to do anything.  So, I figured I was in for a whole day of sitting around waiting for someone to tell me to come back another day.  Ma, chi sa? (but who knows?) I had to go, so off I went…..

When I arrived at the Questura there were hundreds of people from hundreds of places all speaking their languages and holding their precious documents which legitimized them.  All I had was a document which showed I missed the deadline on being fingerprinted which probably isn’t a good thing.  At the door was a policeman giving assistance to people.  I told him I made a mistake with the date and needed a new appointment.  Then I smiled.  He told me to go to sportello 17 (window 17).  That seemed easy enough.  But when I got to sportello 17 there were about 50 people waiting with little numbered tickets to talk to the lady behind the glass.  I didn’t have a numbered ticket.  I wasn’t sure how to negotiate this.  So back I went to the policeman.

He was talking to this nice young girl from Moravia who was, apparently, getting married to an Italian on the 27th of September and was getting mixed information from her consulate and the Italian consulate as to how to process the paperwork.  I don’t think she left feeling any better, but they were having a good laugh about it so at least she wasn’t upset by the answer.  When he looked at me I said – smiling -  “tutti hanno bigletti al sportello 17” (everyone has a ticket at window 17) and he said that’s not a problem I should just pass them all and go right up to the window.  I said okay, but then as I was walking away I turned and said to him… “sa noi Americani non siamo molto bene con tagliare il filo” (You know we Americans are not really comfortable with cutting lines) and he laughed at me, grabbed my paper and walked into the offices to make the appointment for me.  I really didn’t expect that!  But thought… GANZO!!!! (cool!).

He returned in about 10 minutes and asked me what my status was here.  I showed him my permesso which is now, actually, invalid (I have 60 days to renew) and he asked if I was going to renew it.  I said for another year and he said, “well in that case just throw this out” (referring to the official stamped and signed paper I had been carrying around for a year).  I asked him if he was sure.  I said I didn’t want the police to arrest me and throw me in jail.  And he laughed and said “I am the police and we don’t have enough money to pay for the food for all the people who are in jail, do you think we’re going to add you as well?”  Then he told me “Buona Giornata” and I told him to have a nice day as well.  Then I left.

I love Italy!

Ciao ragazzi, I hope your problems are solved as easily as this one,

Bari