Sorry for my bad english...

Sorry for my bad english......I'm tryng to learn it. If you have any suggestions or any corrections to make on what I write, feel free to let me know .....

venerdì 1 dicembre 2017

Syria

You know, everyone has his methods to feel alive and don't needs to spit in the mirror in the morning when you see your face.
My is to try to do something useful in those places where the value of life seems to count as much as a dry shit.
I have a series of unshakable beliefs on human rights, social contracts, solidarity, internationalism, equality, women's self-determination, in short, all this foolish romantic anarchist ideas that would solve the world's problems.
I've found out a lot of the time that the problems in the world are complicated to solve, but I've never stopped believing it.
I'm just an old, foolish girl, and everyday is worse than that.
Traveling and knowing the rest of this world has always been one of pleasure of my life.
In the last few years, I have been involved in healthcare cooperation: in short, there is something I can do, that is my job, and there are contexts in which basic rights, such as reproductive health, are still worth less than life and of dignity, which is not worth anything; and when life itself counts nothing, women's ones are less and less.
And so? So there are places in the world considered so dangerous that you must have a good deal of madness to want to go. Each year, a reasoned list is published on the most dangerous countries, where live is a bet every day.
In these countries I have known the second, third and fourth ranked. Could I lose the first one?
No, I could not.
Not after having met Kurdistan, not after having followed for years with anger the (few) news coming from those beautiful places, bruised by the worst human invention: the war. No, actually, religion. Neither, power and money. Because in the end it's all a game of power, power derived from money, arms, control of the lives of others, whose religions are a powerful medium.
Tomorrow I'm leaving for next assignment: 6 months in Kobane, Syria, Rojava (Syrian Kurdistan). A place where they are trying a social experiment that I want to see closely.
An experiment in which the female component is an integral part and fundamental.

I do not know how it will end, but grow, build, find new (old) methods of cooperation and coexistence is something that belongs to me deeply.

lunedì 21 marzo 2016

Old News

Oh, you know, sometimes it can happen to read a news long time after the facts  happen.
But you look at it, this gentleman died July 22, 2015, the day after my 50th birthday, the day I left Italy for South Sudan ....
There might be something interesting in this coincidence, or maybe not, I do not know.
Who is this gentleman? A Nazi officer convicted in Italy (military court in La Spezia) and Germany (military court of Monaco of Bavaria) for a massacre in Tuscany. One of many that the Nazis did in my country. Not the worst, only 14 died, a small thing ..
But precisely one of the 14 dead was my maternal grandfather. And this gentleman, who was sentenced to two life sentences, has not done a day in a jail.
Boh, in the end, life is like that: a beautiful shit. But if I am so fiercely anti-fascist, anti-Nazi, anti-militarist and anti many other things, I owe it to him: probably the only useful thing of his cursed life.
One day I will come to Ottobrunn to seek your grave, Mr, Scheungraber. I will not do anything special, I do not like antics. But it will be a great pleasure to see you dead.

Josef Scheungraber



Joseph Scheungraber

martedì 28 gennaio 2014

So long

So long, Pete...
May the streets of America be light to your feet and for your guitar...

Where have all the flowers gone?

lunedì 6 gennaio 2014

The "Befana"

 
According to an old legend, the Wise Men  knocked at the door of an old woman to ask her for directions to Bethlehem. They asked her if she wanted to go with them and she refused. But in the night she repented and decided to join them. He could not find them and knocked on every door leaving a gift hoping that the baby of the house was baby Jesus.
In Italy, the Befana is an old woman that on the night of January 6 passes for homes, flying on an old broom, leaving gifts for children in one of his socks. To good children she leave candies and toys, to the bad ones she leaves only some coal piece.
In our day, the socks are ready in supermarkets, full of treats, including  ​​black sugar  coal .
And the Befana no longer uses a broom to fly.

mercoledì 1 gennaio 2014

sabato 25 agosto 2012

giovedì 23 agosto 2012

The Never Ending Story (Die unendliche Geschichte)

So, after only 28 years since I saw the movie, I've read the book. And now I'm here, asking  myself:... "but why the fuck I've been waiting 28 years?" ....  who knows ... The apple falls when is ripe, and we see that the right time is now. .. now, that many things have happened. But that's another story, and this should be told at another time.