{"id":11989,"date":"2016-07-08T09:00:12","date_gmt":"2016-07-08T07:00:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=11989"},"modified":"2016-06-30T22:07:49","modified_gmt":"2016-06-30T20:07:49","slug":"da-giovane","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/da-giovane\/","title":{"rendered":"Da Giovane"},"content":{"rendered":"

I always did hate writing my curriculum vitae! The idea of reducing my life down to one A4 page in order to convince someone that I was \u2018the right candidate\u2019 seemed so superficial. I\u2019d look at the finished CV and ask myself: \u201cWho is this person?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Well, the other day, Serena suggested that I write a few articles in English and translate them into Italian, something that we haven\u2019t done for a while (it\u2019s usually the other way round). \u201cWhy don\u2019t you describe a picture\u201d, she said. \u201cWhat kind of picture?\u201d I asked. \u201cWell, you\u2019ve got some nice old family photos \u2026 why not start there?\u201d she replied.<\/p>\n

\"Me<\/a><\/p>\n

Suffolk, England 1963<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Here I am in the back garden of the house that we moved to when I was about 2 years old. To my left is my little sister Viv, three years my junior, on the wonderful red tricycle that survived all five of us kids until I finally wrecked it with my boyish antics many years, and several house moves later.
\nI\u2019m not sure exactly why I have a hoe in my hand, but my father was a keen gardener, so it\u2019s quite probable that I was \u2018helping\u2019 him with the gardening.
\nEccomi nel giardino sul dietro della casa in cui ci eravamo trasferiti quando avevo circa 2 anni. Alla mia sinistra c\u2019\u00e8 la mia sorellina Viv, 3 anni pi\u00f9 piccola di me, sul meraviglioso triciclo rosso che \u00e8 sopravvissuto a tutti e cinque noi <\/b>bambini, finch\u00e9 non l\u2019ho finalmente distrutto con le mie buffonate fanciullesche molti anni e parecchi traslochi pi\u00f9 tardi.
\nNon sono esattamente sicuro perch\u00e9 ho una zappa in mano, ma mio padre era un appassionato giardiniere, perci\u00f2 \u00e8 molto probabile che io lo stessi \u2018aiutando\u2019 col giardinaggio.<\/b><\/p>\n

Animal Farm<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Just above my left shoulder is the rabbit hutch. We always had animals in my family: cats, dogs, tortoises, ducks, chickens, guinea pigs, hamsters, mice, goats, a horse, and many other stray or abandoned creatures of all shapes and sizes. I clearly remember looking into that hutch one day and noticing a strange phenomenon. I went to find my mother and asked her: \u201cMummy, do rabbits eat raisins?\u201d \u201cWhy?\u201d she enquired, \u201cBecause the hutch is full of them!\u201d I replied. Well, that was the day that I discovered that rabbit excrement looks just like raisins.
\nAppena sopra la mia spalla sinistra c\u2019\u00e8 la conigliera. In famiglia abbiamo sempre avuto animali: gatti, cani, tartarughe, anatre, galline, cavie, criceti, topi, capre, un cavallo, e molte altre creature randage o abbandonate di tutte le forme e misure. Mi ricordo chiaramente che un giorno ho guardato dentro quella conigliera e ho notato uno strano fenomeno. Sono andato a cercare mia madre e le ho chiesto: \u201cMamma, i conigli mangiano le uvette?\u201d \u201cPerch\u00e9?\u201d si \u00e8 informata lei, \u201cPerch\u00e9 la conigliera ne \u00e8 piena!\u201d ho risposto. Ebbene, quello \u00e8 stato il giorno in cui ho scoperto che gli escrementi di conigli somigliano ad uvette.<\/b><\/p>\n

St. George and the Rat<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

To the left, behind my sister\u2019s back, is the old barn which, if I remember correctly, served as both a garage for my father\u2019s beautiful Rover and a place to store the gardening equipment.
\nMy most vivid memory of this building is of the terrifyingly enormous rats that lived there, a problem which required regular visits by the mysterious \u2018rat-man\u2019 with his poisons and traps.
\nA sinistra, dietro a mia sorella, c\u2019\u00e8 il vecchio fienile che, se ricordo bene, serviva sia come garage per la bellissima Rover di mio padre, sia come ripostiglio per l\u2019attrezzatura da giardinaggio.
\nIl mio ricordo pi\u00f9 vivido di questo edificio \u00e8 quello dei ratti spaventosamente enormi che ci vivevano, un problema che richiedeva la regolare visita del misterioso \u2018uomo dei topi\u2019 coi suoi veleni e le sue trappole.<\/b><\/p>\n

I\u2019m not sure if it really happened or if it was a nightmare, but I have a vivid image of a gigantic black rat tearing out of the barn straight towards me with my father, spade in hand, close on its heels.
\nLike a mythical scene from George and the Dragon, my father raises the spade up high and smites the rat in two with a single blow.
\nNon sono sicuro se \u00e8 realmente successo o se \u00e8 stato un incubo, ma ho una vivida immagine di un gigantesco ratto nero che fugge dal fienile diretto verso di me con mio padre, vanga in mano, alle sue calcagna.
\nCome in una scena mitologica da San Giorgio e il Drago, mio padre solleva la vanga su in alto e spacca il ratto in due con un solo colpo.<\/b><\/p>\n

For years I had a recurring nightmare of being chased by massive rats. In the nightmare I would always be running uphill through thick mud or against a gale force wind. This made my movements sluggish, as if running through glue in slow motion, and yet these elements seemed not to affect the rats, who gained on me slowly but surely, until I awoke in a sweat.
\nPer anni ho avuto un incubo ricorrente in cui venivo inseguito da enormi ratti. Nell\u2019incubo corro sempre in salita fra fango alto o contro un forte vento di burrasca. Questo rende i miei movimenti lenti, come se corressi fra la colla al rallentatore, e tuttavia questi elementi sembrano non avere alcun effetto sui topi, che lentamente ma infallibilmente guadagnano terreno su di me, finch\u00e9 non mi sveglio tutto sudato.<\/b><\/p>\n

Amazing isn’t it \u2026 so many memories in just one small black and white photo, and I haven\u2019t even really got going! Perhaps now, dear readers, you\u2019ll understand why I\u2019m a hopeless writer of CV\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Italian translation by Serena
\n<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Alla prossima<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

I always did hate writing my curriculum vitae! The idea of reducing my life down to one A4 page in order to convince someone that I was \u2018the right candidate\u2019 seemed so superficial. I\u2019d look at the finished CV and ask myself: \u201cWho is this person?\u201d Well, the other day, Serena suggested that I write…<\/p>\n

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