Italian Hockey

Yesterday, Vicenza's calcio (soccer/football) team was playing in home turf, but surprisingly (nay, SHOCKINGLY) some in our group didn't enjoy watching soccer. So instead, we went to Asiago to watch the town's highly-rated soccer team beat Val di Fasso's team to the ground. But hockey, you ask? Although it may not make much sense for a Mediterranean country to indulge in such a cold-weather sport, participation is largely limited to the northern parts of the country, where alpine culture is very much alive and the locals tend to classify themselves more German than Italian. Going north along the Italian peninsula, Asiago is one of the first major towns that truly display its historic affinity to German culture, with some communities even speaking Cimbrian. Hockey in this context does not look or feel out of place at all.

It was the first time that I went to see hockey, and the experience was good overall. But the best part however were the fans: insane! Shouting, whistling, chanting, these guys are passionate over a sport that I never would have imagined Italians would be bowling over. American spectators are by and large dedicated to their teams, but these guys have an almost maniacal obsession with every hit, every foul, and every point scored. There were no jitters here--everyone stayed glued to their seats throughout the game, including the children. The stands right behind the Asiago goal were the rowdiest, chanting nonstop throughout the game, and waving the team's colors whenever the team scored (or it looks like the players are getting tired). The one very big difference with American hockey however were the players. They screamed at each other, got pissed-off to the point of a shoving match, but no fist-fights. Frankly, that is one of the biggest draws of the sport, so it is a little underwhelming that no brawls broke out.

In fact, the fans, although spirited, also stayed relatively calm and respectful. When a player from the opposing team was carried away on a stretcher, he was applauded. (His departure on a stretcher wasn't what they were clapping about. I didn't really sense such nastiness with the fans.) When the referees and the opposing team came out, there was no booing. A nice environment such fans make, especially for people like me who get turned-off by American sporting events due to their tendency to devolve into drunken messes. Hopefully Asiago makes it to the championship. I wouldn't mind going back and cheering them on alongside their usual life-long supporters.

If you are interested in watching the team play, visit their website for game schedule.

Little Italy in the Philippines

Little Italy Rises on Philippine Hillside

A good article about Italy in the Philippines, bringing together two cultures that I know well. Not a community of Italian expatriates planting a small piece of home in the tropics mind you, but a community grown dependent on money remitted from Italy to the Philippines by Filipino contract workers abroad. As the Italian government tries to deal with its "problem" with its Chinese, Roma, African, and Arab immigrants, this is an interesting look at how immigration affects the place from where the foreigners originate. Not just a sob story about poverty and suffering, but a story of renewed prosperity and the resulting lack of productivity (I'm trying my best to find an alternative to laziness) by the community that has grown dependent on foreign money. It's not just a problem associated with workers who go to Italy, but it's quite interesting how bits of Italian culture get transplanted into a context which in retrospect isn't really much different from it at all. Filipinos go abroad, send foreign money, and come back with foreign ideas and ways--will such a system benefit the Philippines, or hurt it? We don't know yet, and frankly the country the inward flow of money is still too vigorous to be bothered by such questions.