Boston from Italy

From Florence, Italy, the view of the tragedy in Boston at the marathon is clear...the wide world is smaller than ever. We are all connected despite our tribal moments when group A demeans group B, or seeks to kill it. The bells tolling in Florence echos those in Boston.

Though 7 hours ahead of my home in Chicago, we heard about the bombing virtually immediately, given we travel with a smartphone with a UK SIM card and iPad (thanks To Apple.) we listen to NBC Nightly News, CNN Radio and BBC. We are as briefed as those in the boondocks of unconnected America.

What a marvelous change within my lifetime of travel. But sadly there still are those deformed creatures within humanity who within the darkened corners only focus on hatred and murder. The majority still cannot, so far, identify them as they lurk about the edges of the greater mass of kind humans.

So take heart in the majority.
The Italian who ran out of a small museum to return a guidebook he thought I'd left behind.
The smiling woman in the mountains of Tuscany who beamed at my three generation family as we ate lunch.
The locals of Florence whose English is far better than my Italian.

As Tennessee Williams said, I will always depend on the kindness of strangers.

Leave a comment

  • ChicagoNow is full of win

    Welcome to ChicagoNow.

    Meet our bloggers,
    post comments, or
    pitch your blog idea.

  • Advertisement:
  • Meet The Blogger

    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

  • Twitter

  • Subscribe

    Enter your email address:

    Delivered by FeedBurner

  • Categories

  • Tags

  • Latest on ChicagoNow

  • Advertisement: