The Bat Mitzvah celebrates the transition from childhood to womanhood. It marks a treble convenance; At one level, Anna makes a convenient with God/the law:/society, depending as to whether you are a theist: she has to abide by all religious obligations; At another level, she marks a pact with her family: she has the right to make decisions, and she is accountable for them; At a third level, it marks a convenient between generations, as she accepts her identity as a Jew and she decides to pass it over.
She was assertive ever since she was born, and it is not possible for her to become anymore assertive as a result of the Ceremony. It is my day, I want to decide everything, my dress, your dress, the menu, the invite list, the pictures in the booklet, Giorgia's hair, the side Saul should walk on in the road; how is this different, Anna, relative to any other day? She had two ceremonies, we celebrated one in Venice. The booklet of the ceremony carried at the back some pictures in memoriam, they clarify what is the significant of celebrating the ceremony in Venice. One picture depicts the re-opening of the Schola Spagnola in Venice after the liberation of the City, carried out by a British officer, who was also a Rabbi; most of the Community was not in Venice at the time- and yet it reminds us that even the right to celebrate a ceremony in Synagogue us ephemeral; another picture shows the marriage of my paternal grandparents, my grandfather fled Venice during the War, my grandmother, who was a Catholic, hid him, waited for him, respected his religious identity after the war and helped him pass it through the generations; another picture shows my maternal grandparents, who fled Egypt in 1956, left anything they owned behind (as a result my grandfather loved owning gold, an asset class I never understood, and never wanted to own a house); finally, a picture, shot in the Lido of Venice, shows my grandfather, a swimming champion, enjoying, like in the Garden of Finzi Contini, some relaxation before he was to discover what awaited him. We had guests from Venice, Rome, Milan, New York, London. The day before the ceremony we had a lunch in Venice. Venice's cuisine is naturally fusion, as it had always been a bridge between East and West. So it is not surprising that the new wave of highly rated restaurants in town all merge Venetian cuisine with Asian elements. We had a Shabbat dinner with our family and a few friends who came from New York. On Saturday the bat mitzvah started. We were on time and left the house bang on at 8am. Saul did not like the way I knotted his handkerchief, and discovered his own way; Giorgia did it her way, and Anna changed decided to wear a different pair of shoes. And yet, we made it. We walked towards the Ghetto, observing the beauty of Venice before the heat. We saw our friends in front of the synagogue. They were also almost all on time. The ceremony took place after the service. Saul was convinced that one of the attendees to the service in the synagogue looked like Putin. It was a jew from Montreal who was celebrating his tenth wedding anniversary, and went up to the aron area. He was still suspicious. Jonathan took Anna aside for a final rehearsal during the teffilim, similar to the warm up of an athlete. Anna read the shemat, eshat chail and the Alenu. She delivered a speech on the meaning of the Eshat Chail, a psalm to women written by King Salomon, that likens a woman to a pearl. She spoke both in Italian and in English. Rav Sermoneta delivered a blessing, and I could heat that under the talet Anna was deeply moved. We had a kiddish in the Garden of Sala Montefiore, where I had my own kiddish after my bat mitzvah and my wedding. There is a sense of immortality in repetition. I could not be prouder of Anna. She spoke confidently, in three languages, and she showed me again her will of iron and that, deep down, she is a performer. I learnt something myself from her speech. I was wondering whether Judaism is innately gynophobic- women cannot sing in synagogue, but men can- or simply it differentiates roles to enhance identity. I thought about it during the walk back. We then headed over to Remiera Querini, with a few guests- after a frantic rush to a shop for last minute shopping, for a boat ride on a Carolina around the Arsenale. I told Anna to bring a spare pair of clothes, but she did not listen to me. In the meanwhile, I passed by the fruit and vegetables shop, and they confirmed that my delivery had gone through in the morning. We then had friends over in the campo for a Redentore dinner. We had to ask the police for permission to put out two tables for Redentore. I discovered that the barriers to prevent too many entries to the fireworks area (one of which was positioned in front of my house) only created more crowding, and nobody checked. I brought some water to the staff manning the barrier near our table, and they repositioned not to bother us. We had a typical Venetian Redentore dinner, cold dishes, pasta with vegetables. We danced to Kletzmer music. Anna did not trust me to take her up the chair, and I looked for help. The fireworks lit up at 11.30. They reflected themselves on the water. Giorgia and I sat down on the floor, the way I used to when I was a child. My lifelong friend Giovanni remembered the way we used to watch fireworks for the Redentore when we were child, and Anna said that Giorgia and I, sitting on the floor, looked like two beggars. We went back to the square, and did the most Venetian of things: worried about where we would put all of the rubbish in a legal way. As usual, our friend Silvano, owner of the restaurant, helped us. We woke up early in the morning to make it to the beach at 10am. We were alone. We had rented some cabins near the place where my grandparents had met. Gradually, our friends joined us. The water was warm, muddy and warm as it has always been in the Lido. The cabins make you feel as it Thomas Mann had written Death in Venice yesterday. The Lido has a timeless elegance. Next to our cabin a friend of my family, who spends the all summer in the Lido, come to our rescue and gave us the material to clean the tables. We marked two tables and had lunch at the beach as in the Venetian tradition. The children swam forever, we had a lifeguard in the group, who at first looked very excited to relive his youth, and then realised that the sea at the Lido is very shallow and it makes lifeguards redundant. We went home, frantically packed with Georgiana's help. We head over to the airport, cutting it very tight, and we would have missed our plane if we had not talked to the security guards. A tourist scolded me for using the EU queue at passport control, and insulted me, and I asked the border police, who was there to check our passports, to talk to him, explain that I followed the procedure and ask him to repeat what he had told him. The minute the border police talked to him he became very humble and extremely apologetic, although the police told him exactly the same as I did. I told my children that they are now responsible for her own choices, and that the message of Judaism is that one must study, work, educate oneself and others. They asked me whether for once I would allow them to drink a fizzy drink.
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I broke my rule that forbids me to check in luggage. I zipped a big bag mixing skiing clothes and light cotton trousers. I discovered, to my surprise, a streak of meteopathism within myself as I left some mountains near Zurich to go to Athens. The metheopatism combined with wishful thinking: in fact, I did not pack any city clothes other than light shirts and light trousers. I later on almost ended up having wear my ski gear in Athens later on Sunday afternoon.
The taxi driver steered the car very fast, driving with a single hand. However, he was holding his phone with the other hand and arguing with his wife on the phone. I am tempted to say wife, and not girlfriend, for the quarrel was somewhat calm. It felt like a jazz melody that fuelled his car as he accelerated at every turn. The first turn was ragtime, the next Miles Davis, luckily the final one was not a funeral song for me. No driver at at the airport wanted to take a card. This disturbed me. However, I remembered that I have a similar problem at Heathrow. The next day I discovered that Uber summons yellow taxis, which then take card payments. I arrived at the hotel. I chose a place by Mount Lycabethos, a bit cheaper than the hotel where I stayed in the past. It overlooks Kolonaki. Sunday afternoon was not over yet, and I made a little timed plan: first a visit to Caffe' da Capo, then a walk and then dinner. However, I did not really mind, dinner came first, unsurprisingly. I trust guides more than concierges. All of the restaurants on my list nearby were shut. The concierge recommended a place. I arrived there full of mistrust and badwill. I do not trust concierge recommendations. Everyone was smoking. I asked the waitress whether guests were allowed to smoke. She looked at me, she smiled, and she said "It depends". In reality,the smoke seemed quite light, and it did not bother me the way it normally does. Then come the food and I felt guilty towards the concierge for mistrusting her. The dishes were small, but I did not have to taste them to know. It was a small restaurant, and yet waiters were passing orders to the kitchen via a phone. There were two security cameras. I wonder whether the owners distrusted the staff. I walked down to cafe da Capo. I had visisted before. and it always seemed to me before to act as the centre of gravity to the city. Instead, the cafe was empty, it was closing down, and other establishments dwarfed it. This upset me, as if I had seen a person age very suddenly. I returned to the hotel. It had very tiny walls. Luckily, there was no snoring on the other side. I caught a glimpse of the Akropolis from the rooftop before going to sleep. I studied classics at school, and the favourite stories I read to my children are Greek myths. So, in a strange way, the sight of Akropolis made me miss them. I woke up in the morning, and I had to work. However, I had a gap between six and seven pm, so I visited Attica. I think there is a "Harrods" like department store in every capital. This one was was pretty empty. It had all sizes available and could display middle sizes for any item on the racks. The staff was very kind. I just browsed, I very rarely buy things in shops. I am afraid that if I bring presents back to my family they would always want me to leave on a trip. I was not left with the impression that austerity would have been very beneficial to that shop for a long time. I have read that three thousands immigrants touch Greece's shoreline every day, and that lawyers have been on strike for two months, while farmers have blocked many roads. Athens bore no sign of political unrest, the square in front of the parliament was pretty empty. Ignacio was voted number one in this profession in the context of an industrial survey. It is a great honour. Trisha and I threw a little party to celebrate the occasion. Here are the pictures.
Dear Friends,
Finally, Anna's first birthday has taken place. We have received invitations to several parties that took place in rented premises and rather resembled weddings - with the babies looking as clueless as the typical bride. At first, I must confess, I found myself puzzled at scale of these birthday events. Then I learnt that in many cultures the first birthday represents a great milestone: it marks the certainty that the baby will survive. Armed with this knowledge. I approached Anna's coat with trepidation on the 16th of February. Why was she still asleep at 8am, quite uncharacteristically for her? Did she decided to give us a scare just hours within the "guaranteed survival" deadline? I gave her a caress and called her name and she started stretching as if she were a 2m long giant. Her return to nursery after our holiday in Venice brought us the usual bout of cold. Our local GP had decided that she did not need a vaccine (while Vicky, who is entitled for one, had to wait for two weeks for the nurse had decided to go on vacation. What would you say if Santa Klaus decided to take a vacation between the 20th of December and the 6th of January?). As a result, the celebration we had planned at home had to be scaled back to a small audience: her maternal grandparents, Vicky's mum Pauline and Ben. Anna opened a very large number of parents and started showing some interest in some, especially when she could touch them and observe an effect (her favourite objects at the moment are remote controls, she does seem intent to force me to stop watching Italian tv). She then sliced the cake in her own way- that is, licking of the chocolate and smearing the creamy top on the table. What will remain of her first year of life? First of all, every page of the book seems to different when you turn them, day by day, but then they become bundled into a mass of progress. I still remembered when she first followed my finger with her eyes, when she grabbed the first object, when she started drinking from the cup and, above all, when she learnt how to sit down (perfidiously, she did it first with me although Vicky had really taught her). I remembered when she first said "Mamma", although it has been a few months and her language has stopped progressing since then. Then I remember when she started obeying some commands: say hello, clap your hands. I think I have forgotten the top milestone: the first night without walking up, courtesy of Gina Fordes, the management consultant nanny who preaches that baby should follow a schedule. There is a sense of infinity about her life. She will live until hundred, I believe. One day she will narrow down her options, she will be good in maths or in English or in gymanstic, she will like discos or books, sports or reading. Now, instead, she is a dancer, an astronaut and a swimmer and a musician, all in incredibly small doses. Vicky is six months pregnant. So I suspect Anna will never remind that once upon a time she celebrated a birthday without her brother bothering her. Today I have become a father. It is a day of sudden images that I saw but only understood later, a day of connection with my family and friends. I wanted to jot down some recollections to share them one day with baby Anna. Midnight to 2am: The contractions come and go in irregular waves. Vicky has been for four days in pre-labour. I thought that they might run experiments upon her subsequent to the delivery to detect a pattern behind her anomaly. For four days I have left work early as we thought the birth was imminent. We time the contractions: ten convulsions an hour between 11pm and midnight, then four an hour only and I think to myself that we are unlikely to have a naturally ignited, not induced labor. Then, the contractions gather strength and Vicky prescribes a set of actions I have to undertake to help her cope with the pain. I had timed every bout of contraction the previous day with surgical precision. I continue to do the same writing at what time each of them occurs in my notepad which reads as four long columns full of numbers. 2am to 4am: All of a sudden, the contractions become more frequent. At 3am we notice they occur every three minutes. We call the hospital and they seemed, at first, resistant to having us go over. We insist. We order a cab. We Vicky tells me that she thinks she will deliver the baby in the cab. The cab driver gets the scare of his life and almost ignores a traffic light. We walk up to the ward at about 4am. 4am to 5 am We are greeted by a nice fifth year medical student from Imperial. I do not see any mid-wife around and for a minute I think to myself that he and I alone will help Vicky deliver the baby. An experienced midwife comes along. Vicky tries to direct the labour telling the midwife that she has to start pushing immediately. The mid-wife takes control. However, at 4.10am Vicky, and vicariously the mid-wife, the medical student and I all push: Vicky puts in the effort; the mid-wife holds the director's baton and the medical student and I, not knowing what to to, cheering for Vicky in the manner of spectators at a boxing match. I can see that Vicky wants to be kind to the medical student and involve him regardless of the pain she is in for she had once been in his position. There is no time to take any epidural so our delivery will be a natural one. I will never forget the first time I saw Anna's head. A very elastic piece of sponge seemed to emerge, with some black hair on top. It kept coming forward and being pushed back at the end of any contraction. Vicky seemed to have mastered quickly the best technique to push. The contractions, however, slow down in frequency. It is a girl. I tell Vicky and she does not believe me for she thought she had seen a penis at the scan. Due to the mother's unusually high hormonal activity before birth, Vicky tells me, the genitals of a newborn are usually very well defined. In face, I get it right, she is a girl. Anna. I do not believe in superstition or the zodiac or fate. However, I like coincidences and the symmetry of numbers. I take a special delight at the fact that the baby's birthday falls on the 16th of January, mine on the 16th of February and, finally, Vicky's on the 16th of March All of a sudden, my mind runs upon the implication of the delivery rather than focusing on its mechanics, especially when the irregular pattern of the contractions made it an unpleasant chore. I have now obligations. There is an extension of me. I can live, to some extent, vicariously. For the first time I love somebody without knowing them. The baby immediately makes skin contact with Vicky, she suckles naturally. 5-6 am I make phone calls, it is natural for me to do so to deal with the shock. I wake up my father, my mother, my grandparents. My grandmother Mirka tells me again that she cannot believe that she is a great-grandmother. I think this was a milestone she has had in mind for a long time. 6-8am I fall asleep on a chair in the corner of the room. Vicky stays awake, women are better than man, as usual. Vicky's mum looks at me and I hear her say that maybe it is Massimo who gave birth to the baby. Baby Anna also dozes off, exhausted. Vicky's father comes in, and so does her brother. We weight the baby, we wrap her, although she is a bit dirty she does not stink. I notice that facial hair cover her quite uniformly. It is a yemenite trait. Vicky believes that the baby does not look as dark as she or even I. I think it is too early to tell. I surmise that the baby is calm and collected, however, I conclude that she is probably just asleep. I want the moment to stay. I think of Funes, Borges' category, who held such a strong memory that he could not see patterns. When somebody would mention a tree to him, he would think of a collection of thousands of leaves. He did not know the calendar, he had assigned a different name to every single day since the start of history. I have always had a pretty good memory, however I envy him. He will live any day of his life at any point in time he chooses to for as many times as he wishes. I want to remember every second and moment. I take over fifty pictures and I start filming the day. I decide that I must remember that Anna was borne in room number one at 4.51am. 8-12am The ward appears to be full. Hence, we are assigned a private room. Vicky believes that this is the case for we have been such good patients, arrived at the hospital when she was fully dilated. I believe it is just because we will leave on the same day. We understand from our parents that people used to stay in the ward for over three days in the past. Once more, I find strong proof of my belief that the world becomes better and more evolved in every field. I think of Vicky. She has endured birth without an epidural. She kept her cool when she was about to faint. I see infinite determination in her, once more. The rest of the time elapses uneventfully. Vicky’s parents go over to our flat, which she left in a messy state. Vicky’s mum offers to clean it, it seemed to be that she will be cleaning a battlefield cluttered with homeopathic substances to induce labour (there is strong evidence that, for instance, raspberry tea induces labour, in fact it is used as an abortive), wet towels and other items. I now think of Anna. I head out for a bite and when I am back I wake up for my naïve ideas that she would have been always collected and quite. She is crying. She wants to be cuddled, shaken, feed, rocketed, paid attention to. I start talking to her in Italian, Vicky in English. 12am-6pm The paediatrician confirms that Anna is health. I notice several emails from family members scattered around the world. I grow more determined to post pictures on my web page, a blog and a video that very evening. Vicky is able to walk. We are discharged. I remember that Vicky used to love a Giraffe when she was a toddler and I head out to buy a Giraffe to Anna. I dress the baby and I find out that her clothes. I realize that I am as unskilled in dressing her as I am in dressing myself. She does not seem to mind. She does not fit in her clothes, which I take pleasure in, for they will last longer. I reflect on the relative merits of what sex to have. Advantages of having a male: you are more likely to share an interest in sports with them; they will carry the family name; they might take more risks and be more vivacious children. Advantages of having a female: she will care more about you and you will participate more in her life; you will be more involved in the life of her children; she might be more complementary to me. I would have been happy with either, maybe I had a weak preference for a girl. 6pm-12pm We come back home. We bath Anna. Vicky tells me that we have a lot of skills to acquire. Anna seems to like the water and she does not protest. Her grandmother takes care of her. I watch a soccer game in television while Anna sleeps and Vicky relaxes. Vicky and I select some pictures for the website, we cannot publish the best ones for they are too revealing of Vicky. I think we both have to grasp what Anna arrival will do to our lives. My mind oscillates between poetry and practicalities, principles and details. On the one hand, I remember Gilbran’s poem on parenthood: “You might want your children to have your ideas, but they will have their own, for they live in the house of tomorrow, where you cannot enter; you are the arch that projects them into the future”. I cannot wait for Anna to wake up tomorrow. On the other hand, I look up on the internet how you change a nappy for I want to surprise Vicky. I wonder whether my snoring will wake Anna up. I have to start thinking about which shifts I prefer doing this week. |
AuthorMassimo Gesua' sive Salvadori Archives
July 2022
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