#3 Mamma Mia this weather! (English)

It’s autumn in Rome. And yes, I’m typing this now slightly disillusioned. Although I have to admit I’m not longing back to the blistering Neapolitan heat of last summer, I still can’t get used to the current abundant rainfall combined with winds and heavy thunderstorms. Despite the fact November is the rain month in Rome and you therefore would expect that even the Romans are quite used to some rain – at least at this time of the year – this does not seem quite the case. With every millimeter of rain falling, the collective mood drops. Trams and buses are packed with people squeezed against each other in their wet coats, traffic becomes even worse than normal, children are not allowed outside anymore and people can’t stop speaking about it. Because Mammia Mia – it rains! In this same bad frame of mind (because does anything spread as contagious as your fellow man’s mood?) I was standing in a smelly and fully-packed tram last Tuesday when I suddenly couldn’t help smiling. I thought about The Netherlands and how different we deal with bad weather back home. Moms transporting three children at once on their bike who, when crossing the roads in full speed,  just casually pull out a rain cover while keeping one hand on the wheel, the rain suit your mum already laid out for you next to your breakfast – because of course you were still going to school by bike – and the school teachers who let their pupils play outside in the pools because that only strengthens the immune system, right? One of the reasons I’ve moved to Rome is definitely the very pleasant Mediterranean climate and strictly considering my meteorological identity I’m definitely more an Italiana than a Dutchie. ‘No matter the weather’ has never really been my life motto, I’d rather live by ‘What about no thanks in thìs weather’. 

Very curious about my street vendor’s reaction I actually got positively surprised

An advantage of rain in Rome is that you never have to remember bringing an umbrella ‘just in case’. In Holland we use fancy apps that predict the rainfall from minute to minute, but in Rome we have our street vendors forecasting the arriving rainfall with the same precision. I have no clue how they do it but literally only minutes before the rain actually starts falling, they show up in every single corner of the city with umbrellas in a hundred different colors they try to match with your outfit (hey, it’s still Italy) as part of their smooth sales talk. A disadvantage is that these – definitely not made in Italy – umbrellas only last for a couple of hours. When the sky turns blue again and the sun peeks out dozens of trash bins with broken umbrella’s poking out are beaming almost a bit embarrassed in the rays of sunshine. Because in Italy, the sun always wins. If you’d ask me, there’s still lots of room for improvement in terms of a sustainable recycle-society. Still, one of the sales tricks these street vendors use is to offer you life-long guarantee on your new umbrella, of course taking into account they will never get to see you again, like all the other million tourists. Ha, wrong thinking! Because there was that one time when I went to Pompei, it rained cats and dogs, and my new umbrella was – not surprisingly – completely ruined after a day. By coincidence it just so happened that my family came to visit me and I went to Pompei again exactly one week after. Very curious about my street vendor’s reaction I actually got positively surprised, as he kept his word and exchanged my broken umbrella, a little hesitating and with limited enthusiasm, for a brand new one. Of course, it nearly didn’t rain any more for months after that. Contrary to this, what I call, dispensable umbrella society, there’s a matter that Italy arranges better in terms of the environment: the central heating! Because we’re literally speaking a central heating. On a cold day in July in the Netherlands (anything below 20 degrees), I would discretely switch on the heating however no chance on doing that here in Rome. No matter the fact the temperatures drop to only 10 degrees at night and despite my little prayers to the God of Central Heating, literally nothing happened until only a few days ago. Taking into account that I consider the average temperature in elderly homes and subtropical swimming pools just right, I guess you’re in no way surprised that I jumped out of bed of joy when the central heating finally switched on the other day. 

Every now and then I need to make sure that practical Dutch side of me comes out a little more

So there I was in that tram in my – completely soaked – thin cotton jacket, realizing I can be pretty hard headed. Because of course I refused to pack a proper winter coat – let alone a rain coat! – despite all the good advices of la mamma. A little stubborn indeed, considering I actually knew pretty well that even in the eternal city the sun does not always shine. Every now and then I need to make sure that practical Dutch side of me (I’m sure it must be there somewhere…) comes out a little more. Those were exactly my thoughts when I, all shivering and wet, pulled my rain-soaked jacket a little tighter around me.