The first man who taught me a trade was a short, thin Senegalese of sixty, and almost nobody in Italy ever saw him. I fell into a refrigeration apprenticeship by accident, and he was what I found waiting there. I will call him Papa, because that is what everyone called…
In December 2016 I arrived in Italy. I was twenty-five. I spent three years in a camp in Brianza, learned the language over a steel counter from two cooks who spoke no English and would not speak English to me, washed dishes for a year and cycled home at midnight…
2 weeks holidays are shorter than 2 weeks workweek. Viareggio deserves 2 months holidays to get to know the place and eat fritto misto…daily.
