A story I posted earlier, but which still makes me smile...

One day last year I walked in to a small pizzeria between the metro station and my apartment, and when it was my turn, and the ladies behind the counter asked how they could help me, I responded that I had a question.  The older of the ladies told me that would be fine, as long as the question was not too difficult.  So, instead of immediately asking about the pizza I had never seen before, I said in a disappointed tone, "You mean, I can't ask you the meaning of life?"  She responded, without skipping a beat, that for her, life means the possibility to start over at any given moment.  Oh, I responded, so you are philosopher!  She told me she wasn't, but that she was from Naples, which is the same thing.  Then she explained to me that Neapolitans have to be philosophers because the way life treats them.  So I told her St. Thomas Aquinas was from Naples, and she got very excited as he was one the the greatest philosophers ever.  Then the younger woman behind the counter asked me what I do in Rome.  The older one responded that she thought I was a student.  I confirmed.  Then the younger woman asked what I study, and the older one responded that she thought I studied philosophy.  I confirmed again.  I further confirmed that I study St. Thomas Aquinas--where?  At the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas in Rome, of course.  Then, back to the pizza--should they heat it up for me, did I have to carry it far before eating it?  No, not very far--I live just behind here on St. Thomas Aquinas Street.  They laughed very hard, and wondered what St. Thomas wanted from me--surely I would marry someone named Thomas, perhaps with Aquinas as a last name! Then they introduced themselves.  The older lady was the mother of younger one.  (In fact, the pizzeria is called Mom and I Pizza!)  There were two other daughters who also worked there, but who were not there that day.  The next day when I passed, I thought I would stop in and tell the mother that St. Thomas actually studied philosophy at the University of Naples, but she wasn't there.  Instead, the other two daughters were working, and they told me they recognized me from their mother's description the night before when she came home from work, "You are St. Thomas' girlfriend!" 

I like this story not simply because it's funny.  But now, as I walk past the pizzeria, even if I don't stop in for anything (and I very seldom do), the ladies recognize me, and if they're not too busy, they wave or nod acknowledgement through the window.  The man who buys gold in the shop next door often smiles and nods as I walk by, and I've never stopped in his shop.  The Peruvians next door to him, who cut keys and fix shoes, also offer some sort of polite acknowledgement as I pass.  It just goes to show that while Rome may be a big city, neighborhoods are still like villages, and neighbors are still neighbors.