I met Antonio in Bologna on May 28th.
It was Saturday. I took the train from Rome to Bologna that morning to attend the Autopromotec Trade Fair. After leaving Bologna train station, I walked accross the street to look for some place to eat for it was lunch time. A young waiter approached me in front of a restaurant. He led me into the eating hall and left me to look about the ready cooked food displaying next to the counter. It was half an hour after noon time, still early for Italians eating their pranzo(lunch), there were only two people were seated at two different tables, quietly chewing their food. While I was examinating the food, none of which aroused my appetite, I caught sight of a short man walking in, obviously searching for food too. My eyes met his for a second and then we both looked away. I had to admit that eye contact, sometimes, could be meaningful.
I made my decision to choose a kind of risotto and moved on to a table next to the window. I sat down and started to chew my food too. The man walked about with his food tray and hesitated for a few seconds before coming forward towards me. I nodded at him and he immediately asked me if he could share the same table with me. I gave my approval and he came to sit down next to me.
We saluted "buon appetito!" to each other and stared down on our own plates. After taking a few bites, he told me that he hadn't eaten for two full days. I wasn't surprised to hear that. His eyes expressed his state, physically as well as mentally. He had very sharp eyes, filled with depression but no disappointment, with tiredness but no lack of energy.
We exchanged our names, his is Antonio. He had dark brown skin, and so short hair that I hardly could tell its natural color, though some grey hair appeared. He had lost at least two teeth in the front and the rest of his teeth were brownish-black. He was pretty aware of the state of his teeth and he cautiously tried not to open up his mouth while talking.
He told me he's from Lecce, its location I was vaguely aware of. We started to look at our shoes and he pointed it out at a dot on my shoe heel, southern point in the country. That's Italy, a shoe is good enough to figure out any location.
Antonio had been wandering around in Torino, northern Italy for a couple of days and he just arrived in Bologna by train from north. What would he do in Bologna? He had no idea. After I asked him three times, he finally told me that he had no job for eight months,, but he wouldn't give up hope searching for jobs.
He had taken up various jobs before. Many years back, (now he is over forty) he finished arts school where he learned how to paint. But ever since he did not practise painting, as there are too many arts learners in Italy, I guess. He started to work for an advertising company in Torino which was a rather decent and steady job. But some years later, he lost this job. Ever since then, he failed to hold a steady job.
The hardest job he had taken was washing dishes in the restaurant in his home town Lecce. Every morning he started to work at half past seven, finishing after ten in the evening. With such a job, he earned one thousand Euros per month which definitely was a low income in Rome. He explained to me that there is a big gap in terms of income and consuming prices between the north and south of Italy, while Rome is the boundary line. One thousand Euros' wages in the south is equivalent to two thousand (or more) Euros in the north.
But the labor enviroment in Italy is getting worse and worse, for economic
backwardness in the south is driving more and more people to move to the north and seek jobs, resulting in tougher competition and lower wages in the job market.
I asked him whether it was tough for him without a job for eight months. He said it is by far manageable for he lives with his parents in their house in Lecce. But he, of course, wants work, without which he feels meaningless.
It appeared to me that he had no appetite for food even though he did not eat for two days. He hardly touched his food but drank a half a liter bottle of beer. The fact that he could talk to someone like me made him feel at ease, which he needed the most at the time.
It was time for me to head for the fair. We exchanged telephone numbers before bidding good-bye.
I was aware of the situation in Italy, but it was the first time to meet a person like Antonio face to face.
I received a message from him one hour later,"Ciao..., you are nice woman...sorry for my english no perfect.".
We spoke Italian at the lunch, and occasionally Antonio had to search for English words with which I wasn't acquainted in Italian.
At seven in the evening, after I was finished with the work as an interpreter for a Chinese company at the fair, I sent a message to Antonio asking where he was. I received no reply. I got back to Rome late that evening and I was wondering in my mind how Antonio was doing. He told me he might catch a night train to get back to Lecce.
The next morning, I received his message telling me he was at home with his parents. I wrote to him that I was pleased to hear about that.
Antonio, good luck with your job-hunt and hope you'll gain some happiness after all.
It was Saturday. I took the train from Rome to Bologna that morning to attend the Autopromotec Trade Fair. After leaving Bologna train station, I walked accross the street to look for some place to eat for it was lunch time. A young waiter approached me in front of a restaurant. He led me into the eating hall and left me to look about the ready cooked food displaying next to the counter. It was half an hour after noon time, still early for Italians eating their pranzo(lunch), there were only two people were seated at two different tables, quietly chewing their food. While I was examinating the food, none of which aroused my appetite, I caught sight of a short man walking in, obviously searching for food too. My eyes met his for a second and then we both looked away. I had to admit that eye contact, sometimes, could be meaningful.
I made my decision to choose a kind of risotto and moved on to a table next to the window. I sat down and started to chew my food too. The man walked about with his food tray and hesitated for a few seconds before coming forward towards me. I nodded at him and he immediately asked me if he could share the same table with me. I gave my approval and he came to sit down next to me.
We saluted "buon appetito!" to each other and stared down on our own plates. After taking a few bites, he told me that he hadn't eaten for two full days. I wasn't surprised to hear that. His eyes expressed his state, physically as well as mentally. He had very sharp eyes, filled with depression but no disappointment, with tiredness but no lack of energy.
We exchanged our names, his is Antonio. He had dark brown skin, and so short hair that I hardly could tell its natural color, though some grey hair appeared. He had lost at least two teeth in the front and the rest of his teeth were brownish-black. He was pretty aware of the state of his teeth and he cautiously tried not to open up his mouth while talking.
He told me he's from Lecce, its location I was vaguely aware of. We started to look at our shoes and he pointed it out at a dot on my shoe heel, southern point in the country. That's Italy, a shoe is good enough to figure out any location.
Antonio had been wandering around in Torino, northern Italy for a couple of days and he just arrived in Bologna by train from north. What would he do in Bologna? He had no idea. After I asked him three times, he finally told me that he had no job for eight months,, but he wouldn't give up hope searching for jobs.
He had taken up various jobs before. Many years back, (now he is over forty) he finished arts school where he learned how to paint. But ever since he did not practise painting, as there are too many arts learners in Italy, I guess. He started to work for an advertising company in Torino which was a rather decent and steady job. But some years later, he lost this job. Ever since then, he failed to hold a steady job.
The hardest job he had taken was washing dishes in the restaurant in his home town Lecce. Every morning he started to work at half past seven, finishing after ten in the evening. With such a job, he earned one thousand Euros per month which definitely was a low income in Rome. He explained to me that there is a big gap in terms of income and consuming prices between the north and south of Italy, while Rome is the boundary line. One thousand Euros' wages in the south is equivalent to two thousand (or more) Euros in the north.
But the labor enviroment in Italy is getting worse and worse, for economic
backwardness in the south is driving more and more people to move to the north and seek jobs, resulting in tougher competition and lower wages in the job market.
I asked him whether it was tough for him without a job for eight months. He said it is by far manageable for he lives with his parents in their house in Lecce. But he, of course, wants work, without which he feels meaningless.
It appeared to me that he had no appetite for food even though he did not eat for two days. He hardly touched his food but drank a half a liter bottle of beer. The fact that he could talk to someone like me made him feel at ease, which he needed the most at the time.
It was time for me to head for the fair. We exchanged telephone numbers before bidding good-bye.
I was aware of the situation in Italy, but it was the first time to meet a person like Antonio face to face.
I received a message from him one hour later,"Ciao..., you are nice woman...sorry for my english no perfect.".
We spoke Italian at the lunch, and occasionally Antonio had to search for English words with which I wasn't acquainted in Italian.
At seven in the evening, after I was finished with the work as an interpreter for a Chinese company at the fair, I sent a message to Antonio asking where he was. I received no reply. I got back to Rome late that evening and I was wondering in my mind how Antonio was doing. He told me he might catch a night train to get back to Lecce.
The next morning, I received his message telling me he was at home with his parents. I wrote to him that I was pleased to hear about that.
Antonio, good luck with your job-hunt and hope you'll gain some happiness after all.
