Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Tap Dancing
People always say that Lucca must be so very different from New York, but the conventions of apartment life are very similar. Like the imaginary fourth wall of the theater, you must pretend that the people in the next apartment don't exist (and that you are not watching everything that they do in the course of the day). For the most part we have observed this convention with our neighbors across the courtyard, though once in late summer F and the dad of the family said "Ciao" to each other and also once ran into each other at the Ortofrutta.

Now as we spend every day in an odd ritual of vacuuming and steaming the floor, then, dressed in white socks with our pants rolled up above our knees, tap dancing like Savion Glover (at least in our own imaginations) in order to lure out any remaining pulci/fleas. Plus also, they have had many occasions to watch the bioenergy treatments which involve a lot of waving arms and hands over clients' heads, that, out of context, must make no sense at all.

But we trust that they will just ignore us, just as we ignore the other couple and the dog who seem to have moved in a couple of months ago, and the man's strange lab coat and hip-waders, and the construction crew who have been renovating the same room for months and months, and the tall lady with the dark hair.

Nope, never saw any of it.

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