It is difficult to drive and cry at the same time. And it was all Sylvia Poggioli’s fault.
I admit that when I first saw the pictures of the flooding in Venice, I did not pay much attention. Every year at this time, water flows into the lower-lying areas of Venice, including St. Mark’s. It seemed routine to me. It was the time of acqua alta, the high water. (Note the thigh-high boots in this picture of Gary ready to brave the weather.) Then the water rose higher, the news grew dire, my heart ached. Then Sylvia Poggioli came on NPR and spoke to some remarkably pleasant Venetians about all the volunteers who have come to the city, both from non-profit organizations and just individuals who care. The first interview was with the owner of the Libreria Acqua Alta. This bookstore is stuffed with books, tucked at the end of a small alley with a backdoor on a canal, but they are always prepared. Its books are stacked up off the ground in boats and bathtubs. They have an amazing collection and it is always fun to wander the narrow aisles with books at waist level. Apparently, this was not enough as the store flooded.
But, the news was even worse. Querini Stampalia flooded. Querini Stampalia is an amazing library, and I had seen the water seep in from the canal before. (See my photo of just that phenomenon.) This time, however, the water reached the books. Volunteers were placing paper towels between each page of the books to try to absorb the water. Patrons, students, and former students rushed to the library to help.
The apartment where we have stayed when visiting Venice is on the ground floor, right next to a canal. There is a knee-high metal plate that can go across the door, in case the waters rise (similar to the one in this photo of a Venetian bank). I had guessed that the water won this time and our landlord, Maurizio Bartolato confirmed it. He said everything was flooded and had to be thrown out. They will, however, dry out, replace and start over. Venice always feels like home to me. We haven’t visited in a few years because of family obligations, but I still dream of returning. My tears over Venice’s sorrows required me to pull into a parking lot to regain composure so that I wouldn’t endanger other drivers, but now my tears are gone. I focus on the warm voices of the Venetians that Sylvia Poggoli interviewed and the hopeful note from our landlord. La vita continua e questo non ci fermerà. “Life goes one and this will not stop us.”
