Cash for Trash

Naples and suburbs are buried under mountains of garbage again, like in 2008. The legal garbage dumps have reached their capacity, garbage is simply not collected anymore and waste is spreading quickly around the city and especially the suburbs of Naples, home to the Camorra, the Neapolitan Mafia. The Neapolitan people pay higher fees to get their garbage collected, as the average Neapolitan produces more garbage than any other Italian. They don’t separate the garbage, unlike the people in the rest of the region (this became mandatory after the crisis of 2008, but a Neapolitan ‘doesn’t do laws’). The household garbage in Naples and suburbs includes plastics, glass, refrigerators, broken car parts and mattresses that are ripped apart. You can find the trash anywhere along the road.

For decades the Camorra is in control of the waste management. In the agricultural Campania region with its beautiful lush countryside this mostly consists of household garbage. The real lucrative business for the Camorra however is collecting waste from the industrial north of Italy. Including toxic waste. The rich industrial companies can cut major costs by selling their poison to the Camorra, who will then dump or burn it illegally in the countryside of Campania. Of course the north of Italy will always deny having any part in this 'typical problem of the South'. Pieces of land (bought of intimidated landowners) are being trashed, underground holes and quarries are filled with waste like heavy metals and asbestos. The toxic waste is also sold cheaply to ignorant farmers who use it as compost for their beautiful lemon orchards, olive groves, nut trees and crops…

Local politicians are either corrupted or intimidated and therefore not taking any action. Garbage men are sitting around playing cards and smoking. The lobby of the industrialists is too strong. The Neapolitan keeps producing lots of trash. The stench of Naples is becoming more famous than the precious monuments in the city. Cancer rates are higher in this area than in the rest of Italy. Laboratory tests are being falsified. And in the meantime the Camorra laundries money this way, benefits more from the waste ‘management’ than from drugs or human trafficking and gains more and more power. Money definitely stinks in this case. The Lancet already called this area the ‘Triangle of Death’. What ever happened to ‘Terra Felix’? It makes me sad… Love, M.

Utopia.... Or not?

After having been there three times now for a longer period, Singapore is the perfect blueprint for any country, according to my husband. There is hardly any unemployment, crime, corruption or poverty. Housing is well taken care off; almost 90% of the population owns its own home. The streets are kept spotless. Buddhists, Muslims, Christians and nonbelievers live happily next to each other. There are rules, many and strict. Sounds good to me, so far. But, as Utopia simply does not exists, there is a catch with Singapore as well.

Even though Singapore is a parliamentary republic, with elections for a new president every six years, it has been governed by just one party ever since 1959: the People's Action Party (PAP). Censorship, judicial corporal punishment and the death penalty are still carried out. Singapore has one of the highest execution rates in the world (more than Saudi Arabia). The zero tolerance policy applies to any sort of vandalism or violence, which is good, but also to selling chewing gum, not flushing the toilet after using it and walking around naked in your own house. Eating, drinking or smoking in a public area like the metro station can cost you 500-1000 (Singapore) dollars. And if you happen to love the same sex, there is no place for you in Singapore.

Here in Holland we definitely have a problem with rules, discipline and authority. The policeman is supposed to be 'your best friend', you address a teacher on a first name basis and paramedics are being molested trying to save someones life. Punishments are way too low here for severe crimes, vandalism and aggression. But would I like to live in a country like Singapore? Never! Nothing good ever came out of censorship and/or corporal punishment. Strict regulation is fine, but that much control of a government is no good; people should be able to have a mind of their own. And once the government starts interfering with people's private lives on that level, that's it for me. I understand the need for regulations and I like respect for authority figures and professionals, but within my own four walls I want to determine whether I walk around the house naked.  Love, M.

The Grand Tour

The journey, not the arrival matters
- T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)

I feel like I am a passenger on a luxury train. A palace on wheels, like the Orient Express. With vintage cabins and a plush interior. All breathing elegance and history. A deluxe train that takes me on a wonderful journey. Every once in a while I get off the train to see places I have never seen before. Places that surprise me, make me wonder and bring me new experiences. After such a visit, I get back on the train to continue my journey. During that, I am meeting new people. Interesting, fascinating and intriguing people. I am enjoying the scenery, the places and the people so much, that I hope that it will take a real long time before we reach my final destination...

More precise than with the above words I could not describe how writing this first book feels to me. This 'journey' is such an amazing experience already, that it truly is more important than the arrival for me. It is a journey that takes me to unknown topics and challenges me to explore these thoroughly. As I have always been eager to learn (unfortunately never too much in the 'conservative' way....), this really is one big pleasure trip for me! Like a sponge I am absorbing everything that gets in my way. I feel privileged. It is like being on my own Grand Tour. 

Right now I have the actual story all chopped up in chapters. In short sentences and keywords I have described what will happen per chapter. Structuring took me much longer than I would have ever thought. Now the time is close to start working out these short sentences and keywords chapter by chapter into the story of Elena, the protagonist, which will be spread out over a few decades. There are still many gaps to be filled (like how the story must end exactly...), there is still much material to be gathered and many topics to be researched, but piece by piece the puzzle is coming together! And during that process, I am learning and enjoying the ride. Do I really want this journey to ever end? I definitely agree with T.S. Eliot. It's the journey that matters. Love, M.

La Dolce Vita

Mention 'La Dolce Vita' and most people immediately think of the legendary movie of Federico Fellini. The movie, that was released in 1961 and awarded with 6 important movie awards, is about a Roman society journalist that is torn between the ambition of becoming a serious writer and the temptation to lead the superficial social life of his subjects. The most famous scene is probably the one with Anita Ekberg standing in the Trevi fountain in Rome. Apparently, the Swedish Anita Ekberg didn't have any problems standing in the cold water (the scene was shot in March...) for hours and hours, while Marcello Mastroianni, being a true warmblooded Italian..., had to wear a wetsuit underneath his clothes and drink a bottle of vodka before he was even able to do the scene (drunk!).

Because of the movie, the term 'La Dolce Vita' (the sweet/good life) soon became synonym for a desirable decadent and laid back lifestyle, like the people from the upper class around the Via Veneto in Rome were living. They would spend their holidays in famous jet set places like the island of Capri, Portofino and Sardinia during summer and Cortina d'Ampezzo during wintertime. As Italy was quickly transforming from an agricultural country to an industrial country in those days, the income for the average Italian was rising. The people from middle class were able to afford themselves more luxury. At the same time, Italy was discovered by foreigners as a country with a spectacular scenery, a wonderful climate, beautiful cities, talented artists and delicious food. 'La Dolce Vita' was born. Unfortunately, at the end of the sixties, the sweet and good life had to make place for student protests, strikes and violence.

As the father of the protagonist of my book was working in Cinecittà, I have been looking into the world of the Italian cinema. Cinecittà is the Italian equivalent of Hollywood and was absolutely booming in the 1950s-1960s. It was the time of great directors like Fellini, Visconti, Rossellini and Pasolini. Italian actors like Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni, Anna Magnani, Claudia Cardinale, Gina Lollobrigida and Totò . It is amazing how many beautiful movies were produced at that time. I think I am going to lock myself in for a few days and watch some... Love, M.

The Mirror

What would you do if somebody (you have met only two years ago...) calls you and tells you that she wants to write a book about your life story? It must be a weird experience, somebody wanting to know all about your past, the relationship with your parents, your most wonderful and difficult times, the loves of your lives. Of course I was inspired by this life story because it is an extraordinary and dramatic one and not just happiness and laughter. Although it is not a biography, I have realized very well from the fist moment I called her about this project, that talking about her past would be very emotional, confronting and intense for my friend. Last Tuesday I wrote her an email with a summary of the first few chapters of the book. She replied with:

'Reading this for me feels like looking into a mirror, reflecting images that I love and at the same time images that still hurt me'.

This project is not just 'a hobby' for me. This book is not just fiction, but based on a true story. This true story is not just any story, but the life story of someone I care about. It is about Italy, but not because I love Italy as a tourist, but because I got to know Italy so well that I feel at home and at ease there. Because I have found people there that are interesting, wonderful, intelligent and that have welcomed me in their lives. I am thankful that my friend is willing and brave enough to go through all of this, just because of my book. I want to be careful and sensitive about it. She told me that the book will hopefully even help her to put things in place...I hope so too. Love, M.

La Pastiera Napoletana

Months ago I already wrote the first few chapters of my book and created most of the characters. I held myself back from writing on though, as I wanted to have the input of my Italian friend first. Good thing I did so. Two weeks ago I had so much factual input all of a sudden, that I had some trouble going back to fiction. It was like the truth was catching up with fantasy, not leaving much room for the last one. Although the story of my friend could easily be written down as a biography, it was a clear choice from the beginning not to do so, as I want to have the artistic freedom to add or leave out things. The end result has to be a well balanced combination of her life story and my fantasy. So the challenge now is to combine fantasy with facts. To start with a clean slate, I threw away the first few chapters two days ago and started all over.

I decided to start the story at Easter, in the year 1963, with my protagonist being 7 years old. I have been in Italy during Easter few times and know that Easter is the most important holiday after Christmas, especially in the religious south of Italy. The weeks before Easter, many processions, with enormous statues carried around the towns and cities, take place in a sober atmosphere and sometimes also in costumes of ancient days. And then there is Easter, a big celebration! The egg, the symbol of new life, is well represented by huge and smaller, mostly beautifully decorated, chocolate eggs. You will find them wrapped in colorful cellophane in the windows of the pastry shops. It is a good Italian tradition to give your loved ones one of these beautiful eggs. The tacky bunny (a Protestant and actually pagan symbol...) is nowhere to be found, just eggs.

There is a saying in Italian: 'Natale con i tuoi, Pasqua con chi vuoi'. Translation: 'Christmas is something to celebrate with your family, Easter with whomever you like'. Like in most European countries, Easter is celebrated in two days. Easter Sunday is called 'Pasqua', Easter Monday 'Pasquetta' ('little Easter'). As you probably know, Italians are fascinated by both traditions and food and any combination of the two. Now there is no way describing an Italian Easter leaving out the traditional Easter menu, which differs per region. This is where I started reading about the specific Easter traditions of the Campania region. And oh, how I enjoyed it (with watering mouth...). During Pasqua there is a big 4-course Easter lunch. Evidently there is lamb on the Pasqua menu, as the lamb plays a big role in the Catholicism (the Lamb of God, that takes away the sins of the world). I love lamb (for other than religious reasons though), so I was happy to see it on the Easter menu as some of the best lamb I ever had was in Italy!

There are more delicious surprises in the menu, but at the end of the menu, there is La Pastiera Napoletana. Now beware, this is not just any cake, but a cake that comes with a romantic legend that everybody in the region knows. It is the cake that was made by the Gods from the Gulf of Naples, out of presents that the siren Parthenope once received from the people from Naples as a thank you for the beautiful singing she would treat them to each springtime. The people gave her the dearest things they had at that time: fresh ricotta from their sheep, water from the orange blossom, wheat boiled in milk, fresh eggs, flour & spices and candied fruit. If you have ever been to the Gulf of Naples and have experienced its fascination and the abundant offer of the land there, you can automatically imagine the singing of Parthenope... Good thing they were able to save the divine recipe. Don't you just love Southern Italy... Love, M.