"Yesterday I phoned the clerk of a debt collection company on behalf of Sky. It tells me that the girlfriend is September 2009. I wonder why. I say that from April 4 of last year I left my house and there I have returned. Case earthquake. The sky decoder lies crushed under the weight of a wall collapsed. Mutes . So I apologized and says he will do what I have said this to the proper authorities. Then, thoughtful, asking me if now, after a year, everything is fine. It tells me to love my city, had the good fortune to visit a couple of years ago. He was fascinated. I remember in particular a paved stairs leading down from the Cathedral to the Basilica of Collemaggio. And I salt the lump in my throat. I tell her that I lived there. She fell silent again. Then he asked 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. The story of the money that we do not have to rebuild. And there are not any help for us to survive. The story, from July 1, will return to pay taxes and contributions, even if we do not work. The story that we will pay the ICI and mortgages on destroyed homes. It will share regular payments on loans. Even for those who have nothing. That, in July, an earthquake with a gross salary of € 2000 will see payroll of € 734 net pay. That not only come back to pay taxes, but will return immediately all those not paid by April 6. That the state does not pay the homeless people who manage themselves 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, how much he paid for an apartment in Bertolaso Via Giulia in Rome. I can hear her breathing heavily. The talk of the new neighborhoods built at a price of luxury homes. The life story of the people living there. As in hives without a soul. Without even a newspaper. Or a bar. The story of the elderly who have been uprooted from their land. Miles and miles away. The story of the professionals who have left. Enrollment in secondary schools in sharp decline. The story of a dying city. "
look for sources of this writing on the internet (not that they serve, who cares who wrote it if what it says is clearly true), I find hints of criticism I find people that call the Earthquake in Aquila whiners. That Friuli did not weep as much, but proud rolled up their sleeves. That anyone who expects restructuring by the state bureaucracy and the profiteers should expect, well, everyone has what they deserve. That it deserves?
Bella empathy, compassion beautiful. But better not to want to put herself in the shoes of the other. Bell is really better. Here is a link with the text of the Aquila veneer, but in return with many assents to the following:
Perhaps under the earthquake Friuli the government and all politicians were not to be only one's own business, squandering public money, pay hoes, building houses, recommending friends, perhaps for this reason the Aquila burns a little more pepper. Or am I wrong?
Vanessa
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