What I miss

Like a teenager keeping a journal I note in shame that my last post here is from 2012. Since then I have moved to Trieste, Italy, taking a job at the ICTP: Abdus Salam International Centre for Theoretical Physics.

Horculas en el migo. And so it is.

Looking back, it is clear that growing up in Buenos Aires shaped my view of the world, what to expect from the day to day of life. And this happens in really unexpected ways: the shape of buildings, the layout of streets and cities, the birds and the trees (it is frustrating to try to explain the peculiarities of the hornero, the little bird of the endless pampas building its mud house on top of alambrados, to someone and not being able to convey all the memories it brings or why it matters).

Coming to Italy is a bit like going back. So much of the culture feels like home, from the language to the hand gestures to the food. But perhaps the most significant connection for me is: la passeggiata.

People actually go out to walk for the sake of it, for the pleasure of strolling about with their friends, their family, not just to walk the dog, to shop or to exercise. People in normal clothes, pushing a pram, or grandma in a wheel chair, kids chasing each other around, couples holding hands. And they do so in the open air, perhaps taking in the rays of a beautiful sunny Sunday, in public spaces, sidewalks, no commerce involved.

Buona Domenica!

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