*Per continuare a parlarne.*
Ieri mi ha telefonato l'impiegata di una società di recupero crediti, per conto di Sky.
Mi dice che risulto morosa dal mese di settembre del 2009.
Mi chiede come mai. Le dico che dal 4 aprile dello scorso anno ho lasciato la mia casa e non vi ho più fatto ritorno. Causa terremoto. Il decoder sky giace schiacciato sotto il peso di una parete crollata.
Ammutolisce. Quindi si scusa e mi dice che farà presente quanto le ho detto a chi
di dovere.
Poi, premurosa, mi chiede se ora, dopo un anno, è tutto a posto.
Mi dice di amare la mia città, ha avuto la fortuna di visitarla un
paio di anni fa. Ne è rimasta affascinata.
Ricorda in particolare una scalinata in selci che scendeva dal Duomo
verso la basilica di Collemaggio.
E mi sale il groppo alla gola.
Le dico che I lived there.
She fell silent again.
then invites me to tell what is my city now.
And I do.
The story of the old garrison.
The story that I can not go to my house whenever I want.
The story, however, the thieves go there undisturbed.
The story of the buildings left there to die.
tell her that there is no money to rebuild.
And there are not any help for us to survive.
tell her that from July 1, will return to pay taxes and
contributions, even if we do not work.
tell her that we will pay the the. Us and mortgages on destroyed homes. And
evenly spread the payments of loans.
Even for those who have nothing.
That, in July, an earthquake with a gross salary of € 2000
payroll will pay € 734 net.
That not only come back to pay taxes, but will return immediately all
those not paid by April 6.
that the state pays citizens homeless, who are managed by
just, well twenty-seven thousand, even that small
contribution of 200 Euros per month which should help them pay rent.
That rents have tripled. Without any control.
What I pay in a village of five hundred souls, as Bertolaso \u200b\u200b
paid for an apartment in Via Giulia in Rome.
feel you breathing heavily.
I speak of the new neighborhoods built at a price of luxury homes.
The life story of the people living there. As in hives
soulless. Without even a newspaper. Or a bar.
The story of the elderly who have been uprooted from their land.
Far miles.
The story of the professionals who have left.
enrollment in secondary schools in sharp decline.
The story of a dying city.
And she answered, her voice trembling.
"It is possible that you do not know any of this. You can not
stay that way. Call the television journalists. You tell him.
Call the press. They have to write it."
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