The swimming pool

Today's installment is an entry I wrote last year, about going to the pool here in Pontedera. I am attaching it here now because it is timely, and I will have an addendum to it at the end. Enjoy! I have got a fun new game... we can all play. It is called, "Let's see what we can to to piss of the American swimming laps!" It is easy and fun for the whole family!! The way it works is this: when we see her swimming in her lane, not bothering anyone, we jump in front of her and stop. Or we send our kid to kick water in her face. Or, best yet, and worth the most points, jump in, cannonball-style, right in front of her as she is coming to the end of her lap. Sounds like fun, huh? Well, apparently, for the good citizens of Pontedera, at least those who frequent the 'piscina communale' or the public pool, it provides hours and hours of fun. At least, four hours, to be exact. I have been to the pool four times, each for and hour and I have had nary a quarter of an hour total of peaceful swimming. Now, don't get me wrong, I do understand that this is a pool for everyone, even the rude and obnoxious. However, where is the common decency? There is a lot of space. It is a HUGE pool. Perhaps the biggest pool I have ever seen. It is 50 meters long and at least 25 meters across, perhaps even wider. It is a gorgeous pool. The middle 4 lanes are roped off for adults to swim in, but that doesn't mean that kids don't play there. The first day I went, I was swimming along, minding my own business in a lane with three middle aged men, who were doing likewise. These kids were jumping in as each of these men were finishing their laps. Not one man said a word to them. When it was my turn to finish my lap, one of this 'young imps' dove into me, missing me by centimeters. I stopped, reared up and screeched in English, "Holy Christ, what the f do you think you are doing?" I yelled in English, mainly because it was instinct. I was frightened and shocked. However, it did the trick because they backed off for the rest of our swim. My question is why didn't one of the men say something? These brats will be brats as long as they are allowed to be brats. The next few days were more or less the same... bothersome, but not dangerous. A few fellow swimmers (women) not respecting the lane directions, or swimming backstroke with no idea where they were going. Stuff like that. But, the fourth day... it was an "all play!" I went to the pool knowing there was a thunderstorm brewing. It was cool (75 degrees) windy, and grey. Not a speck of sun. I thought that this boded well for me. The pool would be empty, I could get my swim in. Boy, was I wrong! The place was PACKED!! Kids everywhere. Adults everywhere. (I ask myself why the adults are not at work... and if they are out of work, why are they wasting their money on pool admission which is not cheap.) I got in the chilly water and started my swim. There was one boy who seemingly had my number from the get-go. As I approached him, he went under water and looked me in the eye and as I grew nearer, he swam in front of me and stopped. If I tried to avoid him, he zigged to stop me. I am not exaggerating when I say that this kid was messing with me. When I moved lanes, he followed. What was most shocking, however, was when his MOTHER got in the pool and started swimming laps, not respecting the lane directions and intentionally swam coming at me, when she knew that I was swimming there first and had been swimming to the right. About 5 minutes into this cat and mouse game, her kid started the "let's stop in front of the swimmer" game with his mother. Rather than chew him out for being obnoxious and rude, she just laughed it off. He continued, thinking he was being cute. He was at least 13 years old... far from cute. Now: Flash forward one year. I am no longer frequenting the piscina communale in Pontedera, because of the abysmal behavior of the local kids. I have found a better pool, larger and better equipped for both the swimmer for exercise and the swimmer for fun. Le Barbate is the name of the establishment. It is a private complex, not governed by the rules of the commune. It has two connected pools, one 25 meter lap pool with roped off, dedicated swimming lanes, and one huge kidney shaped pool with slides and big water gushers... everything a kid could want in a pool! I started coming here because I thought the issue of kids in swimming lanes would not be a problem, since they had the other, huge, and way more fun pool just to the left of them. Boy, I couldn't have been more wrong. Can I tell you-- they will leave the worlds of fun pool empty to stand, frolic or cannonball jump into the swimmers' lanes! This is not exclusive to kids, either. Older men will stand at the end of the lane, with arms crossed, blocking your lane turn, and glare at you in a menacing way, as you finish your lap. Older women will simply float in the lane on their backs, sideways. It is almost as if they have no understanding of the concept of DEDICATED SWIMMING LANES. And, the "life guards" do little to nothing to regulate any of this behavior. My only conclusion is that this IS a game that all Italians love to play, not just with Americans, but with swimmers, in general. Much as they do not respect the rule of standing in line and waiting one's turn for anything, they do not respect the rule of the swimming lane. They feel as if they are entitled to run rampant through the pool. They must feel as if they have paid their price for entry and, dammit, they are going to use every inch of the pool, no matter what it is dedicated for. Or, maybe it is not a game after all... The entitlement is their's: Adults here apparently don't reprimand their kids for obnoxious behavior. They often join in with the behaviors. This is why, when you go to a restaurant in Italy, you can spot the Italian kids a mile off. They are the ones running ape-shit-wild around the restaurant, while their parents are busy socializing and smoking cigarettes. The German kids and the Dutch kids are the ones sitting quietly, eating their meals, not saying a word. The American kids may be sitting at the table, but they are being loud, usually complaining that they want something else to eat, something that isn't on the menu. I am glad to see that the phenomenon of the little snowflake is not particular to the good old U.S. of A.