Salutati Attila and Rois, while Angy still looks around frightened, I go to the station, walk two steps to cool off in this order and incessant rain. ended, I end up ambulare along the first track, where I meet the new Caramel. Together him are Louis and Giancarlo, the first Roman de Rome, Florence other. Sitting on top of one of those cold metal benches, along with Gigi spend an hour or so good to talk. It starts from my nose right down in space with wide stretch along the themes of life. I tell him right away who they are and why I am in the middle of the road, he tries to do the same. There is finally a good climate, open discussion and debate. Gigi seems to me from the beginning a dramatic character, written by a great author, a mask. In his fifties, tall, physical dry, gray hair and sopracciglioni blacks, accompanied with large hand gestures wrinkled his jokes scathing. Irreverent spends his time taking life around, from the slums of a road that somehow loves him, with the dignity of a man stray preliminary judgments and curses, seasoned with a few glasses of cheap wine. Not snobbish enjoys watching people and break the walls of decency and apologize, you know mica. His is a grotesque mask, her life and instinctive genius satire of a society adrift, and made double. So this carnival by sharp character lines recited aloud, is staged every evening from his stage, each leg of the first track, for the sake of his audience, travelers stop at Termini, that without buying a ticket find themselves to be measured by the stage, the jokes, the deceit and the mockery of this miserable life.
Gigi's got to death with foreigners who live in the same conditions. Almost like a visceral scream all'untore, to give a face to the guilty of something that did not work and why he and many others are now saying, the road better. I am struck by the utter inability to draw a minimum in some general framework, to have a broader view of the phenomenon in its social, economic and political. Ah yes that street there are also highly educated people. However, there is only a small circle. For others it all comes down to a miserable war of the poor. The boundaries of identity are the easiest to trace. We
Italian Semo and the state there must be 'de PPIU! I know only those capable of working from vojono rubbatte and nun '! Anvedi oh! But there fano in Italy? Not from Hanoi tornassene home, 'sti assholes! There steals our work and there are also a damn 'Noantri them deaf!
Stereotypes, not unlike those that most people's well nourished to the poor and uncomfortable. But as victims? They are criminals, are homeless, are ill. They have not chosen them after all?
This freedom of choice is an easy cliché difficult to break down, as well as comfortable to think. Convenient yes, it downloads all liability distress for the person in difficulty, with honors promoting the social system instead it is a party in the generation, complex, of the same discomfort. No one is born bad, there is no gene for poverty, drugs, alcoholism, there is no determinism in these fields. But there is the complexity of the stories, biographies of people who carry on the signatures of the processes that made them what they are today. In these processes play a key role in the person himself, who can not delegate the responsibility of self to others. But play a role as important figures such as family, friends, companions s, children, the grief, the social system, culture of origin, care services, the labor market. No one chooses the road. Perhaps it is more correct to say that the road selects its inhabitants, one day the landlord accounts, sometimes a bit 'at random, without first knocking at the door.
are always long stories and issues that lead to losing everything and everyone, is not about losing a job overnight. Often the work is indeed the last of the things that one loses, after the deaths, after sanity after the substance addiction, after many wounds of the heart. The road one day, after many threats, you are to take home and whisk you out there on the sidewalk, damp, lonely. There are no instructions, there is only one night, the first, that everyone remembers as the hardest, that when the eyes are dug from fear and cold, and time seems not to play through. Then there are the days, weeks, months, sometimes years. And as everything becomes a habit. The man has an incredible ability to adapt and also adapts to the road. So there is sometimes someone like Gigi, he says proudly that road there is good and that the nun would change their pe 'ggnente.
I'm like a pope, working nun, nun I've got commitments and no stress, I do I collect every UPDATE, I'm with friends, and the Great breaking nun me no soul. You de PPIU from life. I do na real life, not those of ALL. Because life is hard and you de way 'whirling a lot of things that normal life na nun mmai will teach you. I fear I've got nun de ggnente now. Tarmente I've seen many that I'm grown, matured as a person you know. A road is a better teacher of life. Te 'whirling everything there is on the pound nun. You 'to be whirling in trovatte' and Magna, teaches you to sleep 'in the open in winter and summer ice cor co' ll'afa. Te 'whirling ssolo to defend and has a nun' on anyone. Te 'whirling in chains' n'occhio always open, even when you sleep, because if nun never know. Te 'whirling in enforcement and te' er whirling value of things, from friendship for example. Why in the street also see lots and lots of suffering. And when you stop during PDATE nun who know ffa ', we think, and you seem to de 'mparà quarcosa. Sull'antri, up from you, and things' MPORTANT of your life. No nun ce
I go back, because I'm bbene here. Now I've got friends and the nun me just go back to work in de ass like that for me a thing? Risk for de ritrovamme station between n'anno.
A gabbro, I've got me almost fifty years, nun me I Prenn them certain risks.
Bold and irreverent shoot zero on the lives of poor and alienated rather than chasing a dream that does not belong to a handful of flies selling their time to the labor market. At the same time, however, becomes less arrogant if you start talking about other things, such as the family who are not and that would potuto avere, all'aiuto che non ha ricevuto quando ancora sarebbe stato possibile vivere una vita degna in una casa che aveva e che ha perso. Per un attimo allora sì mi dà ragione. É con me nel dire che l'attuale forma di economia capitalista ha imposto la mercificazione dell'uomo, al punto che nemmeno si parla più di lavoratori e lavoratrici ma di risorse umane. Ecco, dal momento che ognuno di noi diventa risorsa, merce, la sua vita lavorativa risponde unicamente ai criteri di convenienza, competitività, prezzi, rischi e assicurazioni dell'impresa. E quel che è peggio è che lo stesso discorso si estende alla sua vita sociale, dal momento che lo Stato stesso si presenta sempre più come una grande impresa, un grande amministratore of public property, voted for the sole purpose of balancing budgets and revive an economy in perpetual crisis, perhaps even privatizing public services and to be managed by private companies, which calculate their profits on the rights of their users, us.
no longer even have a class conflict. There is an inside and an outside. In and out of a system of productivity, which is a social system, almost religious, offering sacrifices to the altars of profit and competition, praising the man alone, you do yourself. The others, those who lose their train, those who can not keep the pace of this new religion, they fall back. No one will stop to pick up on the street. La solidarietà è un lusso. Correre una necessità prima che un piacere.
Fermarsi è troppo rischioso.
[ Tratto da " Roma senza fissa dimora ", 26 dicembre 2004]
Leggi " Roma città vista di spalle "
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