« June 2006 | Main | August 2006 »

Striking against drug sales

This past week, pharmacists have been closing shop and organizing demonstrations against the Italian government's plans to allow supermarkets to sell non-prescription drugs. (Click for article)

One of the charming and considerably old-fashioned aspects of Italy is that there are specialized stores for certain products. For example, I buy my meat from Simone at the macelleria (butcher). My vegetables come from the feisty elderly woman at the outdoor market and the best fruit comes from the young guy at the fruit stand a block from my house (though it kind of creeps me out how he's always winking at me). High quality shoes come from the calzature. Hardware from the ferramenta. Notebooks and birthday cards can only be found at the cartoleria. And, of course, there’s nothing better than a trip to the pasticceria (sweet bakery) which is right next door to the forno (meaning “oven” …a place to buy your fresh bread pizza!). For me, the supermercato is merely my in-case-of-emergency destination.

As of now, your basic painkillers and cough medicine can be found only in one of these specialized stores, the farmacia. In Rome, you can find a farmacia as easily as you could find a Starbucks in Manhattan. The Italian government, however, is looking at the smaller town and rural areas. In these locations, pharmacies are fewer and farther between…and they close on weekends and at lunchtime. For the well-being of the people in these locations, the government wants to place non-prescription drugs on the shelves of all supermarkets.

Pharmacists are protesting this plan. Not only do they want to lose business, but are afraid that the Italian people will be lured into buying unnecessary drugs on their way from the produce section to frozen goods. Other thoughts on the plan concern the “Wal-Martization” of Italy. First the painkillers, then what? A whole store open 24-7 that sells everything you could possibly ever need?

Posted by Kelsea at 6:28 AM | Comments (1)

Forza Italia!

As I write this blog at 1:30am in Rome, the windows of my apartment are wide open letting in a cool late-night breeze and the constant cheers and car-honks of soccer fans celebrating Italy’s victory over France in the 2006 World Cup.

I had planned on watching the game with some friends at one of the big screens set-up around the city for public observation. Well, that was the plan until my boyfriend shuffled up to me the day before and said, “I think you should work at the restaurant tomorrow.”

I cocked my head at him and replied, “Why do you think I should work on my day off?”

He then proceeded to explain in a very serious manner that I had been working at the exact same times that Italy played its other World Cup games and won. According to him, everything had to be just as it was when luck was bestowed upon the team during the last games. Any changes in behavior might lead to bad luck.

He said all this with a straight face, finishing his argument with, “Come on, no one will be at the restaurant all night and you’ll be getting paid to watch the game.” This seemed more reasonable, so I called up my boss and told him to expect me the following day.

The wait staff had brought in a small television and set it up in the back dining room. We prepared the restaurant as usual, but the moment the clock struck 8pm both wait staff and kitchen staff were seated with their feet propped up and their eyes glued to the set. Two parties did come in to eat during the game (tourists, of course – no Italian would be anywhere else but in front of the TV) and I was sent to wait on them as the designated foreigner who had less right than the Italian waiters to watch every second of the game. I didn’t have to see it to know the score. After the first seven minutes I heard the whistles of disappointment from the crowd in the nearby piazza when France scored a goal. I didn’t give up hope because as I was taking the dessert order the sound of cheering and singing floated through the streets and I knew that Italy had scored one back.

The third party of hungry customers ended up huddling with us in the back to cheer on Italy. It was then when Italy took its forth penalty kick and won the World Cup. The staff went wild. The streets went wild. I grabbed my camera and headed for the piazza to catch the action:

Everyone was singing, jumping up and down and waving flags in the air. The bass line from the White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army” (first adopted by a.s. Roma fans but has now gained popularity among soccer fans nationwide) was blaring from speakers in the pubs. Every street became the site of a parade of cars and with passengers hanging out of the windows and slapping high fives with passing pedestrian strangers. Flares and fireworks were set off and motorbike passengers wore Italian flags as capes, blowing in the wind. From that moment, the party started…and I can still hear it going on.

Ecstatic fans jump fully-clothed into Roman fountains immediately after the victory.

This Italian was showing off her spirit with her hat, red shirt and flag.

Statues all around the city were adorned with Italian flags.

Police had to hold back the crowds from storming the French Embassy in Piazza Farnese. The crowds remained, and sang songs of their victory.

Posted by Kelsea at 7:02 PM | Comments (1)

City of Cigarettes

Attention Smokers!
This bathroom is not only used for smoking.
Please open the window and flush cigarette butts down the toilet when finished.
-Management

I stared in awe at this sign hung on the bathroom door of the office building where I recently got a job doing market research. The first thing that came to my mind was the stereotypical scene of the girls in high school who would use the out-of-the-way “bad girls’ bathroom” to sneak puffs between classes. A sign like this would have been a cause for celebration. It was the perfect way of saying, “We know what you’re doing. We don’t like it, but we can’t stop you so try a little harder to cover it up.”

Rome, like most major European cities, is notorious for it’s large population of smokers (not as large as in the 1950s before the link with cancer became known, but larger than the U.S. smoker count). When I first moved here two years ago, I was appalled by the number of people I saw smoking…and the number of cigarettes they went through in a day. Bars and restaurants encouraged smoking and no one would give you a hard time if you lit up in a “non smoking” zone. Rules are often bent or broken in this city.

In January 2005 that all changed. The Italian government banned smoking in all indoor public places. As a waitress in a popular restaurant (and a non-smoker), I was relieved that I could finally come home from work without the stench of 8-hours’ worth of chain-smokers clinging to my clothing. Businesses, however, were not so happy that their customers had to step outside for a cigarettes as opposed to ordering another drink to accompany it.

In the end, statistics show that there has been a small decrease in cigarette consumption since the ban – but that doesn’t make sneaking a cigarette during work hours any less common. Standing outside the bathroom, face-to-face with that sign, I realized that old habits die hard…especially in a culture with thousands of years of history. Italians may not always play by the rules, but they’ll find their way around them.

Posted by Kelsea at 8:28 AM | Comments (0)