From the Eyes of a Child

Mommy mommy the water is here the water is here. I could hear
Elisabetta through the thick walls of the Venetian stone building, we share with three other families. Our small apartment building is virtually canal side the only separation from Rio Tera d Isola is a small sidewalk, the path to the entrance to our building. The walls so thick that even in the afternoon when I lay down from time to time for a short nap I will sleep through Elisabettas afternoon piano lessons. It is just as well as much as I love to hear young passion and passionate she is, about everything. Everyday a new beginning, a new excuse to thrust her spirit into that which lie before her. A Venetian though and through and, even though she is still not yet 12 you can see that see will always retain the classic Venetian look, strong in stature, deep, passionate eyes, open yet clearly her own no need for the outside world to tell her, who she is. She knows and as generations before her know, she is Venetian. Her Piano is coming along as is my Italian in some ways we could be at the same stage of development, she with the repetition of musical scales and the occasional attempt at Fleur de Lys. Over and over she plays, it is hypnotic, it warms my heart to hear her improve a little each day even if it is ever so slight, it is perceivable. Maybe it is just my romantic and optimistic nature that hears her fingers sail her spirit over the keys. I wish my Italian was improving as Elisabettas piano playing. I fear that I am not improving each day but in fact slipping behind. Now that I know that I cannot speak I have lost my child like innocence and have become shy and reticent to open my mouth to utter even the simplest phrases, I suspect, I hope, this will pass. The innocence of youth can be your ally in times of learning and growth, nothing yet to stand in your way to stop you from making the simple mistakes, freely you can sail to and fro with no boundaries of right and wrong, even if you are waking up the neighbors, as Elisbetta is this morning not with her piano lessons but simply because the high water (Aqua Alta) has come and Elisabetta has been waiting since summer to wear her new high water boots the ones her mother bought for her at a discount, at the end of last years high water season. Like a good mother and homemaker Rosanna, Elisabettas mother is always looking for ways to make her budget stretch just a little bit further. Therefore when she noticed the bright yellow rain/ wading boots with the colors of the rainbow splashed over the yellow canvas, she knew that these were the boots for Elisabetta. Elisabettas birthday is July 2nd and nowhere near high water season. Even though she was thrilled when she opened the large box and saw the truly magical rain boots, she had never seen a pair more beautiful she was a touch disappointed that she needed to wait until the Aqua Alta returned before she could make use of them. Maria, Elisabetta’s best friend since infants, has a pair wading boots that Elisabetta had been coveting from the moment she laid eyes on them, green with spring flowers spread about them but these new yellow boots with the rainbows where like no others in all of Venice. And today the first day of the Aqua Alta was the day Elisabetta had been waiting for from the moment she opened her birthday present July 2nd. She loved these boots so much that I suspect that not even for one moment did she forget that the boots lay waiting for her in a box under her bed. Even on the hot and long summer days swimming in the lagoon or with her father gathering clams and mussels for Sunday dinner. Even when visiting her relatives in the country she spoke of the beautiful yellow boots. Twice each summer Elisabetta spends a week in the country, one with her cousins Roberto and Annabelle each of them her age one a season older and one just a season younger and certainly close enough to her in age to share in her excitement of the most beautiful high water boots in all of Venice. Elisabettas other summer vacation is when she visits her fathers mother who with her husband moved many years ago to the country leaving the city of their lives and the lives of generations before them. All their lives they dreamed of a place in the country with a view of the countryside, a place for a garden and room for a few animals and room for all the family to come and visit and share long summer afternoons with food music and laughter. Nona had been living alone here in her country dream for many years as Bubo had died un-expectantly soon after their dream became real. A stubborn woman Nona decided to keep the country house and carry on with building a new tradition for her family “weekends in the country” and weeklong visits with the grandchildren. The grandchildren take turns visiting Nona as she is getting on in her years and can really only manage one or two at a time and in the case of Elisabetta only one as Eliasbetta has enough energy for a whole village.
The time has come the high water is here. Elisabetta waking before the rest of her family is dressed and ready to go. She wants more than anything to run through the waters that fill Piazza San Marco before the rest of the city has had a chance to break the mirror of the still water. In order to do this she must travel almost the entire city in the opposite direction of her school and her fathers work. From their own neighborhood of Santa Croce through S. Polo, passing the Rialto fish market and the over the Rialto bridge, they walk along Teatro C. Dell’Ovo turning left at Calle Dei Fabri then a straight shot to the Piazza. This experience will take the family a minimum of one hour out of their way and their morning routine. There is no chance for refusal, Elisabetta is on a mission, it is as if Elisabetta has the chance to once again re-live her birthday. So she cries out not with any unhappiness but with joy and excitement. Mama Pappi, hurry we must beat the crowds. Together they rush through the morning ritual of caffé for pappi tea for mama and hot chocolate for Elisabetta and toast for all dressing and bundling up for the cold they leave the apartment. I can hear them running down the stairs. I decide to follow a short distance behind so not to impose and yet so not to miss the moment. Through out the city people are in different relationship with the Aqua Alta some are annoyed and some amused but none so gleefully amused as young Elisabetta, as she skips and jumps through the water in utter defiance of the cold and wet of the waters of the canals as they flood the city streets. She squeals with delight as if she is walking on top of the waters in her bright yellow boots.
We pass a group of teenagers completely unprepared clutching the walls of a SotoPortegio their feet wearing only sneakers delicately navigating a small ledge that eventually disappears, surrendering they dance through the water swearing and laughing at the same time.
Eventually Elisabetta and crew arrive at the finial destination Piazza San Marco. There is not a soul in sight she has the entire Piazza to herself. Piazza San Marco is the lowest point in all of the city and therefore has the highest water. To this point the highest water we have encountered has been not much deeper than your ankle. Piazza San Marco is a different story the water here is mid calf in depth and Elizabetta is in flood boot heaven, she squeals and takes off in a dead run through the center of the Piazza, breaking the mirror of the still water with every step and every jump. The city is beginning to come alive now and the business people and workers all finding their way across the high water. Workers are assembling scaffolding that they place through out the city. Two feet in height these temporary walkways make it possible for the population to move about the city escaping the high water, but not completely. This time of year when the High Water is here never assume you can navigate the city and escape the water. During this season there is a seasonal business, large men for a fee will carry you on their backs across the water. It is not uncommon to see a finely dressed business man with his fine shoes, suit, coat and briefcase in hand being carried on the back of a human carrier.
But today young Elisabetta is well prepared and managed to stay completely dry with her new bright yellow boots with the rainbows painted on the yellow canvas. As I take a seat at the Florian Café one of the oldest and most elegant café’s in Venice, opening on 29 December 1720,on the edge of Piazza San Marco for a Italian breakfast and a front row seat for the Aqua Alta show staring Elizabetta and her supporting cast I feel blessed to have even the smallest glimpse of life through the eyes of a child a Venetian child. After breakfast I will have to go and buy myself a pair of my own magic boots. Maybe mine will be blue with clouds or better yet stars.