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 Late for an appointment, I quickly park my car in Viale delle Fosse (translated: street of the ditches), the main thoroughfare of Bassano Del Grappa. After 20 odd years living in Italy I had mastered this art of Italian parking; or so I thought. Forward, now back…. oops! Too far to the right… I get out and found one of my wheels all the way down in the ditch- there’s no way I would ever get myself out… Well, I’m late, I’ll worry about it later… as I rush off to my appointment in the center of town.
An hour later, back to the sad reality and my problem to solve. I slowly make my way through the piazza towards my poor car, thinking about the tow truck I would have to call, the time, the expense and above all the embarrassment … Just then I see a group of Albanian-looking men walking by and I impulsively approach them.
“Come with me, I want to ask you a favor”. The four men follow me. My inside voice says, “Are you crazy, you’re soliciting four Albanians!” But I march determinedly through the piazza trailed by the men. I show them my predicament.
“Can you lift it out of the ditch for me?” They look at the car, at each other, and say, as only Albanians can: “OK”.
Just as the guys were rolling up their sleeves to lift my car, a policeman passes by. Alarmed, I tell my men with a series of looks and gestures to “stand by” until the coast is clear. We spend a few minutes of trying to look nonchalant, (not easy to do for a middle- aged woman and four Albanians at her side) but our patience pays off and the police are on their way. I know we have to work fast. “OK, go ahead…” I tell them.
The four men grab my car in unison and in a matter of seconds it’s lifted up and safely of the ditch. I slip them a nice tip and could scarcely believe I’d solved my problem so quickly and efficiently.
“What a wonderful place to live” I murmur, as I smile to myself.
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