Gardening hopes shattered
For the first week I was unable to bring myself round to opening the shutters. I dreaded to see in broad daylight the sight I had caught a glimpse of on the night of my return from Africa. Those three weeks of absence had meant a tragic turning point for my garden. My family had cowardly taken advantage of my absence to hire a gardener, or should I say a butcher, and gratuitously destroy decades of slow growth for no apparent reason.
I cannot imagine that they couldn't anticipate how upset I would be, as I had always opposed any plan to trim the trees. Maybe a bit intransigently, but I could have taken part in an amiable discussion and eventually be talked into accepting a compromise solution. On the contrary: I was put in front of a fait accompli.
A friend of mine was called by her translation agency to serve as an interpreter during a workshop in the town of Dalmine. The University had invited three renowned architects to a brainstorming session on the future of the national road that crosses through that town. This used to be the link between Bergamo and Milan until the motorway was inaugurated in 1927 – the first leg of what would become a vital connection between Turin and Venice. With time the national road has become beset by ugly urban sprawl and industrial plants, and afflicted by other problems such as littering and street prostitution. If you add the high frequentation of short-haul traffic that cannot resort to the motorway, the picture is not only that of an ugly road, but also a slow one.
I was at the supermarket checkout about to pay for my groceries when the man who had left moments earlier came back holding the receipt in his hand. He pointed out to the cashier that there was an error in his favour, as the shopper had been scanned twice but a pack of ravioli had not been typed. The man dutifully wanted to set the accounts right and paid up the small difference. The thing impressed me and prompted me to put my hand on my heart and ask myself weather I would have acted in the same way. Probably not, to be true, and yet I couldn't deny that the man's behaviour struck me as commendable even though the amount at stake was a trifling one.
I was never particularly familiar with that colleague of mine, and I was surprised when I heard she was retiring. She looked ageless and I took her presence at the workplace as granted, never thinking she might one day leave the 120-strong team.
The modern consumer is on the one hand the easy target of advertising campaigns for food products whose consumption is not necessarily an instance of a salubrious lifestyle; and on the other hand he is often assailed by a sense of guilt regarding the anti-aesthetic consequences of a disorderly diet, and, if worse comes to the worst, he may regret compromising his very health.