Hello, my name is Pietro, Pietro Bigari.
I was born in 1945, or in forty-five… which month? September, September. The day… well, forty-five!! What does the day matter, I don't know why everyone asks me the day.
I live at Santa Palomba, by myself. I have a nice house, with a loggia where I can sit in the sun, but I can't smoke cigars because then my neighbors yell at me. I have a washing machine outside, on the loggia, and the water heater out there too. I have a nice kitchen, a new sugar bowl, because my old one—a friend of mine broke it. Silvia didn't mean to, but what was she thinking about! That sugar bowl was beautiful.
My life at Santa Palomba has no time
I have a lot of calendars, one from the Casetta, one regular one with red numbers that reminds me when to go get my pension. I have a cell phone with a flip, my brother gave it to me, actually they told me I paid for it, but my brother gave it to me. There used to be cherries on the phone, now there's a photo of me and Spilungo, but you can't see it well. I wanted a Sip telephone, someone came to my house and told me they would put one in. I gave him a green sheet, 100,000 lire there… but then they never put it in. I can read numbers though, and I know how to use the phone. Before I lived at Santa Silvia, with my mom, but she died, she had a kidney stone that burst, and I was left alone. I was paying rent, but then the landlord had to put his daughter there and he threw me out. It was very hard for me, all my things thrown in the street, they told me I should go to the hospital. My sister fortunately took me to her house, but she didn't have much space so I was always out and about. But I always came back to Santa Silvia, to via dell'Imbrecciato, to Ricò's… I still go there now. Actually I still feel at home there. After a while they called me to come live here at Santa Palomba. It's far, so far. There's a bus, the 044 that takes me to Laurentina, well now to Eur Fermi. It's far, sometimes I fall asleep on the bus.
My life at Santa Palomba is dangerous
I don't like talking about it because I'm sorry about it. Here there are a lot of people who don't like me. One time they broke all the mailboxes, those bastards. They take the lightbulbs on the landing and I always buy new ones because otherwise I can't see to put my key in the door. A lot of times they play tricks on me, they want to take my shopping bags, they try to scare me with dogs. Here everyone has dogs, small and big ones, once one bit me. Other times I run fast, faster than the dogs. Other times I hide, because they smell me and then they have mean teeth, they bite. When I take the bus I always hope those bad kids aren't at the stop, sometimes they want money, don't they know I don't have any? This thing about money is complicated, my sister-in-law Bice gives it to me little by little. She gets my pension with me and when I need it she gives it to me. Sometimes she gets angry because I meet people and then it ends up the money disappears. One time I met a plainclothes policeman and an INPS employee who told me they would send me an INPS check but I had to give them money. But the check should come to me. So Bice tells me she won't give me money anymore, but that was a policeman!! He even took my ID card.
My life at Santa Palomba is difficult
I watch television until eight o'clock, because then the neighbors scold me. I have a television in my bedroom, but sometimes the color goes out. I like to smoke Garibaldi cigars. They cost 5,000 lire, the price went up. I smoke them inside the house because otherwise they bother people, so I smoke and then slowly I open the window. On Saturdays my sister-in-law and my brother come spend some time with me. Bice is very nice, she does the laundry and then cleans, she gives me a bath and then cooks things for me. I hardly ever go out. On Thursdays I go to the workshop, I call it the Casetta, but we do things together there with Bice, another Bice. We prepare a scene for the theater, but I have to leave early because I live far away. I got used to being alone, I never talk to anyone. But on the street I like to talk to people.
My life at Santa Palomba and my friends
I have friends. I don't really know what a friend is, but I have people who call me to do things together and I think that means having friends. I don't remember their names, my head explodes when they ask me "who are they?" "what's this person's name?". They give me appointments, they come pick me up, they take me somewhere, they want to know how I'm doing… how am I doing? They take me on trips, I like the Marches. There's coccia pelata, la sposetta, signora Marchetti, Titti, Titti's wife, sora Rosa, sora Rosa's son, Bice from the Casetta, Stefano Spilungo. Then there's Pippo, who lives in the country. I like it in the country, I picked olives… but he didn't give me a lira! Oh yeah, the oil, but I gave that to my brother. Actually I know a lot of people, but I don't remember their names, their faces sometimes yes. Sometimes I go to Stefano Spilungo's place. I can get there, all the way to his house, to his front door if the gate is open and then I ring the bell, even though I can't read. We watch a film, then we go out together to Cascino and Ragazzoni, sometimes. Then Stefano takes me home… he leaves me on the little street, I walk fast, there are those bad kids and dogs, and then I get to the front door, I turn around and wave to him, I wave my arms to show him everything is okay. He waves then and I go home.
—by Stefano Di Franco, 2013