Giusi (Josie)

Today is Thursday. Time for Giusi, our weekly cleaning lady to come. I absolutely love her. She's short and round and talks non stop about everything while she runs up and down the four floors of our house. She speaks very little English and my Italian is suspect but somehow we carry on a conversation. Like every Italian we meet, she is fascinated by the American election. She favors Signora Clinton while I tout the virtues of Senatore Obama. Bush, we agree, is cattivo (the worst). I hear all about her son, Joe, who is si bravo because he wakes up at 3:30 every morning to drive a big truck (camion) from the central fruit distributor to the all the big hotels in Rome. He comes home at noon, eats and goes to sleep, she says with a smile and is so proud of him.

Then, I hear about her many cats. (Something about single Italian women and cats. They love them and they are all over the streets.) Giusi sleeps with her cats and definitely doesn't want a man in her bed again. Basta! Then she tells me an elaborate story about how her cat gave birth to three little kittens that she found in a box and a dog nursed them. At least I think that's what she said. And the vertinario said it was incredible. Veramente. I nod fervently not knowing what else to add to that conversation.

She really gets going when she starts to talk about Italian politics which, everyone agrees, are crazy or schizo or scherzo. I hear all about Berlesconi and what a bad guy he is--a drug dealer, a womanizer, etc. etc. If I understand her correctly, she once served as a cook for him but refused to go back because he is no good with lots of women and mafiosi hanging around.

According to Giusi, Rome is too expensive, too noisy, too dirty. She is from a small town in Puglia near the sea where the streets are always clean and there is no sporco. For some reason, which I don't understand, she longs to go to Spain, where, she says, the government is stable, the streets are clean and the king tells the politicians to be nice to each other.

Oh well, each to his own. I absolutely love being in Rome. Every day, when I walk out the house and down the streets of Trastever, I think how incredibly lucky I am to be here. Ciao.