By Helen Abdul
This writing is a recollection of beautiful memories that I had in Rome, with people who supported and cared about my family and I even when we were the minority group. This also includes some struggles related to Asperger’s syndrome.
i. Soap bubbles
I was mute when I was little.
So, to communicate with my nursery teachers and classmates, I used to use gestures, nod, and shake my head. Sometimes I would get confused whether nodding was a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and my teachers had a difficult time in understanding what I was trying to say.
I was referred to speech therapy and that place was beautiful… It had greenery pictures with animals, and it was full of toys and smiles. My therapist held my tiny hand and I had to go downstairs. I walked down with only one leg and she noticed it. She encouraged me to use both legs to walk the stairs. It was fun and it seemed that I had achieved a lot in doing so little…
They used to visit me during my breaks and class lessons, for only seeing me sitting by myself on a bench and I remember them constantly writing on a book.
My report in 1st grade – I had this constant feedback of being ‘reserved’ and needing to improve my verbal communication
It seemed that every afternoon, I had to visit my friend therapist. She noticed that I liked to scribble and let me repeat long, difficult words or phrases together. However, my eyes only looked down and now… I have a vague memory of her face. She made me colour the pages with Donald and Daisy Duck, along with other Disney’s characters.
I still reminisce the day, when I saw a girl in my class draw a house – it introduced me that innovative idea that I could draw whatever I see around me.
And so, I began to draw giraffes and elephants – and for some unprecedented reason, I liked drawing them the most. I kept going on, until I was fed up and initiated to look at the details around me. I wanted to show my therapist that I was able to draw a house, not a simple house with the front side only, but a 3D one. She was impressed and I liked how she reacted, so I kept practising.
I did not really have as many toys as other children, but my mum used to buy me tubes of blow bubbles and sketchbooks. After my sessions with the therapist, as I was walking against the wind’s direction, I got my tube of blow bubbles out and sticked the blower to the air for the wind to make a stream of bubbles. Everybody was looking at me and for the embarrassment, I quickly got the blower inside the tube and went on walking.
To my shock, that place got shut suddenly. And I was referred to another place, which was far away – I had to take, together with my mum (or maternal uncle), the metro and a bus to reach that place.
The new therapist let me write mini stories on posters. I remember writing an illustrative poster of Cinderella by drawing her crystal shoes for example. I used to play a lot with matching cards with her and she used to tell me strange questions like, “Will you marry someone when you get older?”.
For which I immediately responded, “No!”, with disgusted expression and for her to laugh and tell me, “You will find someone that you will like.”.
There was an odd obsession that children had to have their girlfriends and boyfriends.
One of my friend’s mother asked me about my ‘future’ marriage. She wanted me to be more feminine and stand straight (to ‘show-off’), but I was shy and ashamed, and she noted it. She hugged and kissed me, and finally sighed, “When will you grow up?”. If I had to remember this episode, it was because she thought that I risked having an ‘arranged’ marriage.
People in Italy frowned upon this phenomenon very much and I was unable to say my opinion on this as I was a young teenager, and I hated the lovely-dovely matters with all my heart. I was sure that I was not destined for such things.
ii. Piazza di Spagna
Near this famous square, there was my most favourite park, Villa Borghese.
My dad used to let my sister and I play on the merry-go-round and on the bouncy castle. Till to this date, both my parents jokingly replicate what I said when the bouncy castle deflated – “Nosto hoece, eta nosto” (“It’s ruined, it’s ruined”).
I was wearing a lime, sailor-like dress with a Peter Pan collar with a white bunny drawn in it. I was holding my dad’s hand while my mum was recording everything with a pricy camera (at that time, video cameras were extremely expensive). Upon exiting the park, my parents reached the Piazza di Spagna and I was mesmerised with how many colours there were.
In particular, this mobile flower shop.
The flower shop
I wanted to go much closer to it and I remember that there were sellers going around with guns that made soap bubbles and sold ‘friendship bracelets’. I recall the times that I refused to remove my bracelet when my mum told me to do so – it was thin, comfy and colourful, and I loved it.
My dad used to work near this place, in a restaurant called ‘Otello Alla Concordia’. A beautiful restaurant that had an outside eating space with a little fountain as an entrance (it had a lion’s head). My father’s employer was extremely good and welcoming to us. She used to give me and my sister ‘calzoni della Befana’ (Befana’s big socks) with chocolates and toys inside – during the January’s festivities – and huge chocolate Easter eggs. And sometimes, we were invited for birthdays or events in her country residence. I remember that were a lot of apple trees, but they were small and sour to taste. And for the first time, I used their residence’s reclining chair – which was NOT a good experience!
We spotted a newly wedded couple in Piazza di Spagna – everyone made space for them so that they were able to take photographs. They were ecstatic and jumpy for the photographer’s instructions. She had a puffy white dress and a long veil that semi-covered her long, wavy, black hair. They were happy and the husband looked at her constantly, making sure she was comfortable sitting on the edge of the fountain.
As you can see from the photo, the ‘M’ stands for the metro. On the entrance of this metro station, you will find a long corridor with the walls covered in mosaics.
I was afraid of the metropolitan trains when I was younger. There was that awful, acute, metallic sound on the tracks that frightened me. I used to scream. Loudly. I was terrorised and frightened that the train that was coming was going to kill me. After a while, my parents made a make-believe scenario for me to outcome this fear. Thanks to this, I became finally happy and excited to travel inside the trains.
However, also being inside the trains scared me. I could not manage people glaring at me. My mum told me that I used to close my eyes really tight because I believed that if that I did that, nobody was able to see me – as if I became invisible.
iii. Codes
Oh, how I loved secrets and mysteries!
I was introduced to floriography when I was around eight years old. Mother bought me an illustrative dictionary that had an entire chapter for the flowers’ names, and I memorised them all.
The Italian diaries used to be merchandised with TV’s cartoons, such as Winx. There were some pages related to curiosities and facts. For Flora’s (one of the Winx’s characters, she is the fairy of the nature) chapter, there a was a small list of flowers with their meanings.
I was surprised that also tulips’ meaning was ‘message of love’. I believed that only the rose had romantic connotations, so I wanted to know more…
If I have been the stereotypical student of my class, it would have been the ‘shy girl’ or ‘tomboy girl’. I did not really speak with others about my family life, about my preferences or other personal topics. People always thought of me as a ‘closed flower’, an impenetrable shell. So, I believed that this way of communication was awesome – I would have given a flower (with a hidden message) to someone and nobody would have known why I did it!
It was the perfect crime! Unfortunately, I never did it… But I still plan to do it!
One class from my same grade, developed a ‘mute alphabet’ – which I still remember today (except for ‘R’ sadly). I have learnt it with my classmates and my Italian language teacher was angry seeing me like this. He wanted me to speak verbally (as if I do not speak enough already), not communicate in ‘silence’.
He wanted to see me smile and always reprimanded me of why I cover my mouth whenever I was laughing or smiling. He also scolded me of why I do not stand up straight but have my shoulders curved. He always noticed that I wore black too often.
I am sure that the nature of him scolding me was genuine.
During a dictation exercise – I fell behind in writing the words. My handwriting was slow, and I was too preoccupied in making it neat. I started to cry, scared of the consequences. I was afraid that I was stupid, that I could not keep up with others.
He called me to his desk, and I confessed my struggle. He dried my tears and comforted me. He made sure I was OK.
iv. Change
It has been more than six years since I did not visit Italy.
My father went in Piazza di Spagna in 2019 to do some business. He told us that the flower shop is no longer there. It has been known that also Italy was in an economic crisis for a while.
Recently, together with my sister, we visited the places we grew up with Google Maps. Shops have changed, some gentrification on buses’ stops were visible and people are no longer recognisable.
Children with whom we grew up with changed for the better or worse.
We were nostalgic but we were scared and hesitant in visiting that place again. We were worried that we could not handle so much change. We were heartbroken when we saw the streets on Google Maps. My sister and I came up with a plan – do NOT let anyone who lives there recognise us. We just wanted to see the places with our own eyes.
Some children we used to know work in restaurants now – my sister reported. They were brilliant, intelligent children in the class and now I realise that sometimes, we overlook of how lucky we truly are. When I think of them – I think of them as children, not adults. And now, sister and I are facing with some harsh realities of that place and the people we used to know.
Our mistake: we romanticised everything.
Our Shared Cultural Heritage 