Of Politics and Policemen

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This week I've been attending lectures at the University of Washington as an honourary student. I've been learning about migration and immigration, job prosepects of most Italian graduates, and the problems with racism and cultural integration in the major cities. It's been very interesting, but then it's an interesting time to be in Rome. The Italian government fell last week, and although I have yet to work out if the various demonstrations and protests I have seen around the city are related to this, political activism is in the air. Just round the corner from my cousin's house there is a make-shift shanty town where protesters have set up camp, with tents, to protest the rights of the Bangladeshi community, and the availability of the "permesso di soggiorno" to immigrants. On the buses I hear grumbles as we pass San Giovanni, where the demonstration is taking place, although I must learn more Italian before I can comment on the nature of their complaints. In the Piazza della Repubblica I witnessed an anti-war demonstration, and, across the city, the polizia and the carabienere are a constant presence. In the piazzas, in the alleys, even on the subway, often armed, they appear. However, I have never been so surprised as when, on my way home, alone on the subway, I was approached and sung to by an armed policeman. The sheer ridiculousness was almost too much; "bizarre" isn't an adequate adjective. But then this is Rome, and what would life be without singing policemen?

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