Pinched at Midnight

Picture it: Rome, New Year’s Eve 2008. I pulled my mother out of her bed and made her go out with me to the Colosseo. I wore a black dress and plaid stockings that were purple and black with white lining, which didn’t really matter because my huge grey poncho coat covered it, but no matter. It didn’t feel cold as we walked about a mile (maybe more) down to the Coliseum where an artist named Nannini held a free concert. The street was packed but we made our way down, we even got pretty close because my mom hustled through. Everyone was happy (and tipsy) yelling “Auguri, auguri” which is the equivalent of felicidades. We headed out there at about 10 and arrived at about 10:40 and listened to the music we couldn’t really understand or recognize—Italian is not as close to Spanish as I thought, at least not in music. Eventually a DJ played some American tunes and several people started dancing. A group of Norwegian guys in front of us were having a great time, yelling out the few Italian phrases they knew like, “Non parlo molto italiano…auguri, buon anno!” One even mounted a friends shoulders, standing tall to cheer at the crowd like a rockstar—he was drunk but it was harmless.

Others were less undisruptive…These two older black guys were following us. I wouldn’t say they were dangerous, they were just annoying and way too old (one had grey hair). Anyway, one kept pushing my knees with his and I think the other one tried humping my mom a little bit. The crowd was packed, I mean literally sardines, so it’s hard to tell but eventually I bumped one of them away and my mom asked these two Italian gentlemen to protect us, and they did! But, after running away from the first guy, I found myself “safe” in front of a younger one. I would say he was no older than sixteen years old, but my mom thinks he was older because he was way taller than I am. Anyway, so the DJ’s playing music I know. I’m dancing-ONLY SLIGHTLY- thinking, “great this guy behind me is tall, so maybe he’ll block the other guy.” Yeah… So, I’m enjoying the music and he’s getting closer to me, but it’s getting closer to midnight, right, which means more people are coming in, which means everyone’s getting closer. Okay. At one point his face is kind of close to the side of my head, and I’m like, okay, this guy might be checking me out, so I take a look at him. He has these puppy eyes and olive skin, very young, so I figure, whatever, he’ll get that I’m older and not interested. He wasn’t bad looking, he was just young, and honestly, not as good looking as the other guys I’d seen. I sense something very light pinching my butt, but gently, almost so I couldn’t notice. I wait, but just a little, then, slowly it becomes a harder pinch and I’m sure I can catch him. So, I put my hand near my right butt cheek and, what d’you know: HIS HAND IS THERE! I grab it and push it away, non che problema. But it happens again. I move forward, he does too. And, it’s almost embarrassing to write this but I think it was lightly pounding at one moment—as in HUMPING, but not a lot because I couldn’t really tell. All I knew was this had to stop, so I waited till he did the pinching thing again, I grabbed his hand and said “BASTA.” And he smiled and said, “Come ti chiami.” And I said, “No, no; non mi piaci,” and I might be spelling that wrong but it means no me gustas (or I don’t like you). Then he said, “Per che? Sei bella” Which means, “Why? You’re beautiful…” To which I repeated Non mi piaci and “Vai, vai” which means go away! Then I looked at my mom who wanted details; I told her and we kind of laughed. The men protectors smiled a little too but watched out for us. My mom told me later that while she was worrying about me and the tall pervert that the protector guy said that it was happening because I was so beautiful. So apparently, that makes everything permissible, or at least understandable… Well, the peace lasted about five minutes because tall pervs friend came over to pinch my left cheek—but I caught him on the first try and said, “Basta.” He pretended he wasn’t doing anything and then they moved on. But I could see the tall guy and he looked kind of sad…but that’s TOO BAD!

We had a few more run ins with the black guys but as we got closer to midnight, harassment lessened and the hype increased. At the countdown everyone started shaking their bottles of champagne and welcomed the new year by spraying all of it to the sky—and on everyone else. But no one really drank it, but all the bottles that had tessellated the floor already indicated that everyone's thirst for alcohol had been satisfied. It was really festive and fun. Nannini came back on and everyone screamed the lyrics. After about half-an hour, or actually close to 1AM, mom and I were ready to go because well, we didn’t know the songs (even though they were really good) and we were sleepy, still battling jetlag. On the way back people were throwing petardos and floor fireworks, holding sparklers and bottles of wine. There had been a few fireworks at midnight, but the really special element was a pair of candle lanterns that had been released before the fireworks started. It reminded me of the Chinese tradition (if I’m not mistaken) that releases wishes for the New Year.

On our way out, I slipped kind of close to an Italian blonde who was tipsy. At first, he stared at my profile (because I was looking straight ahead) and then he kissed me! On the cheek though, which was within my comfort zone (I’m glad I didn’t turn my head though). I looked at him and said, “Auguri,” and kept going. Then my mother and I got lost because we were looking for Via Cavour, but there’s also a Piazza Cavour in the other direction. But we did get to take pictures of the Monument of the Unknown Soldier, which is even more compelling at night than in the daytime, which we saw later today on our Red Tour bus. We got to the apartment at about 2AM and went to bed shortly after. When we woke up we had breakfast, told my dad about the night’s adventure and went off on the tour to take pictures of most of the popular sites: The Trevi Fountain, Quirinale, Colosseo, Piazza Venezia, the church where La Bocca della Verita is (where Aurdrey Hepburn gets her hand pinched in Roman holiday)—we didn’t go in there yet though, because the line was tremendous—, Piazza Navona, St. Peter’s Basilica, Ara Pacis, Piazza Cavour, and Via Veneto.

The one thing I don’t like about pictures, and I’ve said it before but I was guilty of it through half of the tour, is that I see everything through la pantalla instead of really looking at the actual thing. Plus, any picture I take isn’t going to compare to images on the internet, but whatever—I am still taking pictures; I just need to remember to really savor the real thing in front of me. I don’t want to experience life through technology, especially not a distorted representation…especially this experience; I want to stay in the moment and absorb the essence! And tonight we absorbed the essence in homemade Italian food! The owners of the hotel have owned a restaurant for 40 years and make their own noodles. They went through 100 eggs today for the fettucine and spaghetti. So good. Auguri! Auguri, Italia e tutti!

P.S. I’m uber aware that I keep changing tenses—sorry about that…stream of consciousness.