Spring, interrupted

I was in a state of catatonic torpor all week. I haven't stepped out once since we got back home on Monday, with the exception of a massive grocery shopping spree to stock up essentials and not being bothered anymore. I made the most of Alfie being off work. Being together during the day is such a rare event since he started with his new job. I loved being spoilt with a rich breakfast after he took Ali to school and jogged, then annoy him all day asking him the things he normally should do when he's here :) I felt at ease. Sometimes leaving the whole world outside is necessary. I also needed to regain my energies after wasting them so much at in-laws ha ha Naughty me. 

We tried to detox from all the cakes and extra food of Easter. Life has a whole new perspective with a flat stomach after a light supper. Who needs to go mundane when you've got all you need at home, new toys included?

Cold weather didn't inspire me to go out neither. The early debut of Spring we had is abruptly over, with drops of November temperature like. The green we are blessed to see from our balconies and windows looks so surreal, like that vivid, unexpected green of British country that always makes you wonder when you'll step out of the portrait. Luscious green like a punch in the eye with all that gray around. Radiant green as a sign of premonition, that Spring is still there, screaming to be liberated.

All this green also gives me hope that maybe things will finally change in this rotten, corrupted Italy of mine. Use of illicit funds scandal has involved one of the useless still major parties here, Lega Nord. Not too bad for a party whose ideology is based over a separation from dishonest Southerners due to notorious Northern transparence. The scandal led to resignation of his historic leader Umberto Bossi and his moronic retard  favorite son Renzo. I'm too happy to even wonder how such people governed us for so long. That would mean meditation and I'm not in the mood for it.

Maybe my daghter will live in a different Italy, saner and more coherent. If things truly change maybe we can even abandon the idea to be permanent expatriates in the future. Everything is possible and it's what I want to believe in today. Whilst waiting for a better climate, like a typical Italian obsessed with weather. Because, okay, I confess it, I wondered wether Ali should wear a hat yesterday. Despite all my endeavors, this is something I still have to learn to control. And in case the above mentioned articles made you curious, I 'only' have 7 umbrellas at home!)

Battling Euphemisms

Guglielmo Oberdan was an Italian irredentist who attempted to kill Austrian Emperor Francis Joseph on his visit to Trieste for the 500th anniversary of the city under the Habsburg kingdom. He failed, but two innocents died, thus he was executed in the central square that carries his name. Just before the execution he cried 'Viva l'Italia!' (Long Live Italy!) and became a martyr of Italian Unification.

Pino Robusti wasn't a partisan but he was killed all the same, arrested and later burnt in the crematory facility down under. He was 22 and was waiting for his girlfriend Laura in Oberdan Square on a sunny Spring day of 1945. They never met because the moment the girl stepped off the streetcar, police arrested the guy. He wasn't working and the fact seemed strange, even if he legally was on a day off from forced slavery work at Todt Organisation. He had to be working and was killed because of that.  

Laura never saw him again. She only got a letter from him, one of the most innocent, powerful, true love letters ever written. 

"It feels weird that, while writing to you, in a few hours I'll be shoot to death. I feel calm, barely glad. The only thing that hurts is I couldn't enjoy you as I wanted to, the only and most desired reward of my youth years (...) Goodbye, my adored Laura, I'm going towards the unknown, the glory and the abyss. Be strong, generous, inflexible. Goodbye. Pino."
From his real letter exposed at the Risiera Museum. 

Cantico dei Cantici sculpture in Oberdan square

Marcello Mascherini probably had Pino and Laura in mind while creating this statue that was placed in the infamous square. It stands there, covered by Spring blooming trees, utterly slim and utterly tall, to commemorate the horrible events. You need to have a good eye to catch it, it easily camouflages with the pompuous renaissance style of the other buildings. And it's so so different from the usual sontuous dead people monuments 

You know, Trieste is a city that never ceases to fascinate me, because every building hides a fact, every statue means a legend and in every corner or street something happened. Its story is so complex and so full of obscure and obliterated chapters, that maybe it's a reason why people are so eager to populate bars and enjoy life. Because their past is full of tragic and complicated aspects.

Since I live here I can't separate the beauty of this place with its intricate history, so I had to visit THE place where Pino was killed. It takes you a long corridor to arrive, where footsteps echo makes the place even more sinister. Its walls are so high that even the blindest light fail to illuminate the way. It's the entrance to a national museum, which gives honour and respect to many victims today, but that was a gateway to hell for many people. It takes to the only death camp Nazi had in Italy.

Built in 1913 as a rice-husking facility (hence the former name that hides the shame, Risiera di San Sabba), during the Nazi occupation it became an efficient prison where to keep political dissidents of the regime and Jewish people, who were sorted out to be deported to Auschwitz. The premise also had crematory facilities. It's where Pino was imprisoned and burnt. It's the peculiar killing camp of ideas, not necessarily tied to the madness of Nazi racial doctrine.

The only photo I dared to take, from the cells room.

There never were official statistics about the number of people exterminated here (though it's calculated around 5000 victims). Germans were efficient in destroying records and Post-War Italy did very little to aknowledge and even commemorate the events. The Risiera was declared National Monument only in 1965 and still today, complicity of the locals make it difficult for tourists to reach and even know about the place for those who are unaware. It's like they're doing their best to avoid involvment in the holocaust.

Which isn't true, because we had our part in the horrors instead. I hate recalling this, but we were a puppet state of Nazi Germany. Benito Mussolini was largely dependant on them to maintain control, especially in areas like Friuli Venezia Giulia were partisans were very active and Slovene irredentism was causing trouble since the brutal italinisation of Istria started when fascism started to spread.

The dependance became even more inevitable when German Army liberated Mussolini, an action which helped him to build The Salo Republic. And as a sign of gratitude, territories that once belonged to Austria were given to Germany, so Trieste, Udine and Fiume, with their hinterlands, were abandoned to their destiny. And while Marshall Badoglio secretly began negotiations with the Alley to let Italy capitulate, we persecuted Jews and repressed partisans. And once these large portions of land were under the Nazi control, they immediately started up a detention and death camp, using an abandoned rice facility here in Trieste.

I was silent and watchful while I visited THE place. I felt like I could be caught any moment. When I arrived near the perimeter where the furnace was, I was attracted by the contrast that the red brick of the structure creates with the cobalt sky. I kept looking up, thinking of those swalloed bodies, people on their back who watched the sky for their very last time. I wanted to scream. I turned instinctively to the 'death chamber' instead. It's spacious and wide. There was enough room to cry.

Next, one after the other, the tiny cells with uncomfortable wooden bunk beds. Reluctantly, I forced myself to go. There are bars on the window. I snapped the only picture of my visit, an overview of the courtyard from behind the bars, the view that prisoners enjoyed during the one hour of exercise per day granted to them. I did not know what else to photograph to document the terror. The writings on the humid walls are enough to testify the shame. There's something horrible in these personal effigy's tombstones.

When I realized there was nothing more for me to witness, I took out my notebook and started to take note of all the possible sentences to document. The exhibit hall includes documents, letters, drawings, photos but, most of all, includes the smell of death. That's where I copied extracts of Pino's letter to Laura. I was alone and I felt the exact shivering terror of when I'm alone in empty churches. The documents distracted me. The thought of what to witness and then write about my visit kept me sane. 

"Goodbye Mom! Goodbye sisters! I'll be shoot tomorrow." Chilling like that. 


Roberto Benigni did a fantastic job in presenting a vision of the Italian humanity during the Holocaust experience, away from the violence perpetrated by others. His film Life is Beautiful perpetuated a stereotype of good Italians compared to violece used by others, and this costed him the claim to compromise historical horror, giving a feeling of Italian extraneity to the fact. To many it sounded like his sentimental optimism protects us, just like the Risiera signs. With all my respect and admiration for Benigni, I find it difficult to understand why he should chose such a theme for his humour. The holocaust was a tragedy without equals and I'm with those who find not nice at all the way how Guido was trying to protect his child from such atrocities.

All you need is a visit to the Risiera and you'll realize how we had our dose of racism too. There were anti-semitic laws in Italy, promulgated in 1938. We had our 'No dogs or Jewes allowed' discriminatory signs and Mussolini was guilty of crimes. The fact many Italian Jews survived the Holocaust helped us  avoid censure for involvment in the persecutions, yet fascist policies and attitudes had a devastating effect on Jews community here. In the case of Trieste, by May 1945 only 10% of the city's prewar Jewish population remained there.

The euphemism of the Risiera isn't the only tragic event we tried to obliterate. When Italy surrended, Tito was doing his best to anticipate the alleys and take possess of the territory. New Zealanders arrived and couldn't help much. Yugoslavs took revenge on Fascists, who had largely imposed brutal italianisation of Yugoslav population in the new territories annexed to Italy after the Absburgic end of kingdom, starting a massacre through foibes and then repressing and humiliating Italians in Istria and Dalmatia, one of the most terrible events of our history.

In those 60 days of Yugoslav occupation it's calculated that many people died, buried still alive and still we obliterated the facts. No single history book mentions about it. We had to wait for 60 years and a brave politician who was trying to run for prime minter to finally commemorate the victims. Isn't this a shame? Primo Levi said that "if we die silently like our enemies want, the world will never know what the man was and is still capable of is capable of." So why being silent?


The least I can do is being firm in my principles and scream the truth from this blog. So, when you come to Trieste, plan a visit to the lager in San Sabba. And remember, it's called Risiera (rice-facility). Ask locals once in the area, because signs don't help. Good luck.

PS:
I started this article a few months ago but found a way to finish it only a few days ago, inspired by the statue i photographed in Piazza Oberdan. Then I waited until today to post it, because Pino was killed on April 5 and I wanted to pay a tribute to him. I hope you appreciate.

Mouth-to-Mouth

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It looks like a kiss between mom and baby but it isn't. It's pre chewed feeding. I had no idea premastication was common around the world. Thanks to Alicia Silverstone I know now. I googled it and seems like there're more pros than cons in it. But well, I can't even imagine all the bacteria spread through saliva and, more precisely, my daughter attacking me like a little vampire every time I eat.

What's wrong with regular feeding? I don't know, I'm more worried for the psychological consequences implied than for the practice itself. What kind of an adult will this pre chewed baby be? Please help me understand this right because I'm open minded and liberal enough but this photo puzzled me this morning!

Belle Epoque

According to the famous Travel Guides Lonely Planet, Trieste is the top city in their  "10 unsung places to visit in the world" list.  It's great that finally someone popular is making justice to this city, so different from the rest of Italy. There's so much to see here, from Roman remains to churches of great spiritual and artistic values, as well as a peculiar liberty style, but the famous Guide got it right: it is the elegiac sense of the past and Haspburg splendour what makes of this city a true jewel worth a visit. 

After two centuries of oppression under the Republic of Venice, in 1382 the citizens of Trieste petitioned Leopold of Austria to become part of his domain. The city remained under the Austro-Hungarian protection until 1918, when it returned to Italians, which brought a decline to its degree of autonomy and prosperity. During those five centuries, Trieste became a city of cultural and commercial importance. After it was declared a free port in 1717, Empress Maria Theresa ordered the bonification of the salt pans area, where she wanted a canal to be built in order to allow the ships to load and unload goods in the heart of the city. 

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The buildings that reflected on those waters where warehouses that hosted additional flors for both servants and owners. The area that was built around it, known as Borgo Teresiano, was very elegant and full of neoclassical splendour, thanks to the Empress who designed this makeover.  I found great pics of that Belle Epoque on this site for your joy. I am a sucker for these types of images, you know.

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And I did more. For some of them, the ones of the most sensational buildings, I even took pics of their current aspect today, so that you can easily see the little difference they have undergone.

During her 40 years of wealthy gorvernment, though, Maria Theresa never ever paid a visit to Trieste. Maybe that's why there's no statue in her honour in the city and the only plaque that pays her homage was placed in 1992.  

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Visiting the Borgo Teresiano really brings you back in time, I recommend to start your tour of Trieste from here when you visit.

Lyrical Theater

Wall square

And when your eyes need some rest after so much beauty around, you can stop at Caffe Tommaseo, one of the historic ones. They will surely delight you in the uncountable ways they're unique for. Happy planning then! 

Dita for President

Seems like something is slowly changing in the crazy world of fashion. Dita Von Teese launched her underwear campaign last month and she refused to hire skinny models. The girls with shape she chose look terrific on her runaway, don't they?

via skinnyvscurvy

This is how a woman should be, enough about sick role models. We need more voluptuous and down-to-earth women out there. Thus go, Dita, go!

Women? What women?

I'm not wishing you any Happy March the 8th. I hate this day, it's useless. Because if you have interests, there must be something else more important than them. For if a man can say I'm sorry but I've got something to do and forgets an anniversary, a child's birthday party, a woman can't. Or better, she can, but by paying a price for it.

Things get worse in other parts of the world, where women are in more serious need. We should think about it rather than going out being ridiculous and celebrate what? Come on!

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The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.

Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach,
I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach.
Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound,
You couldn't even call out my name.
You were helpless and so was I,
But unfortunately throughout history
You've worn a badge of shame.

I say, the night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark
And the walls have been steep.

But today, voices of old spirit sound
Speak to us in words profound,
Across the years, across the centuries,
Across the oceans, and across the seas.
They say, draw near to one another,
Save your race.
You have been paid for in a distant place,
The old ones remind us that slavery's chains
Have paid for our freedom again and again.

The night has been long,
The pit has been deep,
The night has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.

The hells we have lived through and live through still,
Have sharpened our senses and toughened our will.
The night has been long.
This morning I look through your anguish
Right down to your soul.
I know that with each other we can make ourselves whole.
I look through the posture and past your disguise,
And see your love for family in your big brown eyes.

I say, clap hands and let's come together in this meeting ground,
I say, clap hands and let's deal with each other with love,
I say, clap hands and let us get from the low road of indifference,
Clap hands, let us come together and reveal our hearts,
Let us come together and revise our spirits,
Let us come together and cleanse our souls,
Clap hands, let's leave the preening
And stop impostering our own history.
Clap hands, call the spirits back from the ledge,
Clap hands, let us invite joy into our conversation,
Courtesy into our bedrooms,
Gentleness into our kitchen,
Care into our nursery.

The ancestors remind us, despite the history of pain
We are a going-on people who will rise again.

And still we rise.

Million Man March Poem, by Maya Angelou

The Same Old Story

Weeks of silence on my blog and I sign in again only to document the shit that is going on around here. Excuse me, it's stronger than me. I live in a Banana Republic that tries to be like everyone else and illudes itself to be like someone else just because, after years of bunga bunga in its upper court, today it's ruled by a technical government. 

- Central heating down on the coldest day of all. Maintenance technicians are nowhere to be found. Since we expect temperatures go below zero we contact the administrator, who calls the Firemen because he can't contact the staff neither. After 12 hours, someone is forced to solve the problem. It's in days like these that I feel blessed to feel somehow protected by authorities. Even if it's more expensive. Italian disservices part 1.

- Taxi drivers strike against the liberalization. If the new law passes, everyone could set up his business easily, so that current owners can't sell their licences at outrageous prices. Why those licences are given very rarely, every body knows now. How great, now everybody knows what's going on and why they want to keep their utter privileges. But do you think it couts? Italians have morals part 1.

-You promise me the cheapest fares available on the mobile market. You also assure me that, if I choose you as my provider, you sell me your smartest Smartphone for the ridiculous price of 1 euro. Then your goodies arrive but they don't wok. Assistance itself advices it's ridiculous to pay for a mobile that, if all goes well, will be given back to me in 3 weeks at least. So I cancel your contract. I don't care if it's at my expenses and if I have to battle a terrible Bora to walk to the Post Office, where I can't get my number for queing because your machines don't work. And I end up fighting with all the people around for a right. You won't win with me in this. I'll give your bloody Smartphone back. Smart my ass. Sorry. Italian disservices part 2.

- Doctors who own or work in a drugstore strike because the new liberalization allows anyone with a degree to open a pharmacy. Who cares if me, as a citizen, will be the only one benefiting from this? If I don't have to pay this world to get a product they never have when I need it or walk miles before finding a shop? They won't take home the same income, and that's all that counts. OhyesItalybelongstoG20 part 1.

- 27 minutes waiting on the phone to sort a stellar (wrong) bill for water consume at home. When my turn is close, the line disconnects. Italian disservices part 3.

- The Post rises the price of stamps but doesn't print any new one. They also sell Christmas stamps at Easter. OhyesItalybelongstoG20 part 2.

I hate Italy, I truly do. It's really hard to find reasons to stay, these days more than ever. It's hard to find reasons to be proud of. And I say it with a broken heart, because it's not ll about that jazz. There're lovely, decent people too. But we're not enough. If you don't see starlets in parliament anymore doesn't mean they're gone away!

Involuntary Heroes

This is the news that became famous all over the world and that marked our so far terrible 2012, the year of Titanic's 100th anniversary for a weird coincidence.

We're all shocked, I myself can't stop watching videos and listening to superstites' tales, trying to figure out how it could be on board on thoise dramatic moments after the ship collided. I would have probably panicked too, but one thing I know. I would have killed to go up deck 9 and rescue my baby. During our last Costa cruise last year, it's there, at their Mini Club, where Alice used to stay while Alfie and I relaxed in our cabins.

Like everyone, I have problems in understanding the reasons why the skipper abandoned his ship,  rather than remaining there like his duties first and human virtues later require. I'm stupefied by his total lack of competence in coordinating the evacuation procedures. He's young (52) and not a beginner. Sometimes careers aren't mirrors of who we truly are, and one can do everything to take home a stellar salary. So I wonder who put him there in the first place.

Someone is comparing this tragedy to the crisis Italy is collapsing in. We're on the verge of a terrible social, cultural and not least economical disaster, with normal people foced to be heroes in an unprotected environment and rats. I'm afraid this comparison is unfair, but true. I only hope someone will come and rescue us as the way they'll do with Costa Concordia now. ANd that no toher rats will abandon us. Some of us just don't deserve this!

PS: To understand messy Italy better, please read this article.

The Blogging Experience

I never fit in the New Year euphoria to make resolutions, try to change your life or attempt things that most of the time remain in the list. Not that I'm totally immune. In the past I made lists too but always staying away from balances. I believe we're here on this world trying to live at our best possible conditions, no matter what. I'm personally always here wearing my armor and battling life and that is sufficient to me. Because at the end of the day what counts more for me is being able to stand up on my own without fearing to look anyone in the face. Dignity is my priority. And I say this with a rotten heart since it's my dad's best teaching I got but in the worst lesson ever. He's a chronic liar and a compulsive gambler. I'm sure these two faults are strongly related, but well, you get the picture.

My little resolutions revolve around my hobbies. I want to finally end those photobooks, attempt to create my own portfolio different from the one in Flickr, translate my book in English. This is a huge task because it means lots of editing and cuts but I feel it must be done. I also want to (maintain my current weight and) take better photos. It's all up to me. I've got objective, realist goals. I can make it without stressing.

And of course I want this blog to go on. Last December, while organizing a rubrics section, I realized how it matured a lot through the months but it always concentrates on a few favorite subjects of mines. I'll leave it like that and maybe add a Digital Photography page as long as my skills will improve with the course I'm about to enroll in. The most important aspect of this blogging experience is that it helps me discover new people and facts. It's my personal way to nurture and improve my own culture.

I came across two important personalities last year, while researching here and there for my posts,  each of them unique in their own brilliant way and concentrated on helping peope during their memorable lives: George Whitman and Simon Wiesenthal. Whitman gave special privileges to writers. Proprietor of the legendary bookstore Shakespeare and Co. in Paris, he always put people, culture and books before money in what he defines his 'bussines of life'. Wiesenthal spent his life hunting nazi criminals instead, and gave justice to million of victims of the Holocaust. 

2012 started with another great discovery, the ritual of pignarul, a propitiatory bonfire set up in Northern East Italy villages on the night of January 5, before Epiphany day (January 6). It's the ancient tradition  of burning the old year away.

The main one is in Tarcento. Here people walk up Coja hill where a huge bonfire, Pignarûl Grant, or Great Bonfire, made of branches of pine, sheaves of corn, is lighted up by The Venerable Old Man (Vecchio Venerando) and is the signal for all the other minor bonfires around the area to be lit as well. 

While the fire burns people sing folk songs and try to figure out which way will the smoke go, a way to predict the fortunes of the region in the coming year: smoke blowing east predicts a year of abundance while smoke blowing west is a bad omen for the crops.

"Se il fum al va a soreli a mont, cjape il sac e va pal mont, se il fum invezit al va de bande di soreli jevât, cjape il sac e va al marcjât." Old saying in Friulan language that means "If the smoke goes west, take your bag and go for the world [emigrate in search of work], but if the smoke goes east, take your sack and go to the market.

We never knew which direction the wind went because it was far too windy and the bonfire lit was postponed for preventing to burn people and cause accidents. Too bad. But the visit to Tarcento was an occasion to watch the medieval parade and events that usually accompany the Pignarul moment, find out local crafts and enjoy some more cool markets and late Christmas atmosphere, before Epiphany arrives and takes all feasts away (it's on January 6 that we usually take down Christmas decorations.)

It was particularly lovely to admire the different dolls of our peculiar Befana. I loved this day and worried over many nights wondering if I'd find coal in my sock. Yes, because a limp of coal is what you got from our old lady if you'd been naughty. My sock was always filled with chocolates and candies instead, and a toy.  

Befana, fine and wise old crone,

Bless the doorway of my home, 

Watch as winter passes by, 

Come as maid when spring is nigh.

My daughter excitedly awaits the arrival of La Befana too.

After these years in the depth of this blogging process of mine, I'm still enthusiast about its growing prospects. I aim to produce higher quality posts and keep growing as a writer. And I hope you'll keep following me in this path. I'ts important to me because your views discipline me and push me to think.

A huge thank you again to my regular readers, then; a warm welcome to my new ones and many happy returns to the occasional folks out there. Thanks for being my daily thrill!

A billionaire for my blog

Succesful enterpreneurs have become our society heros. In times of recession and poor opportunities, they are the solitary crusaders who see a small potential and start a business, taking risks and challenges in the process, pushing their limits and testing themselves until they are rewarded with lots of benefits.

These men who think everything is possible and never give up are an endless source of inspiration for those who are venturing out and starting their own business. Thus explains the success of some of their strategy memoir books, where they explain the struggling journey they went through to become succesful people. 

Mark Cuban's How to win at the sport of business popped up on the bestseller lists and at the top of all business books. This NBA-champion franchise owner and media-business entrepreneur who slept on the floor with 6 people and lived on Cheese Macs before making it is also extraordinary for his own promotional campaign to his ebook. 

When I was asked to host the interview he gave to lucky Jeff Rivera, best selling author himself, I didn't need to think any further and accepted straight away. It's a honour for me, so thank you both Mark and Jeff for giving this opportunity to me.

There are many mummies out there that dream of creating their own business but haven't a clue where to start. What advice do you have for them?

Find something you love to do, can do on your own and doesn't require any more capital that you can afford or lose personally. The most valuable asset you have is your time, talents and ability to communicate. Focus on those strenght and what you can do rather than what you can't do.

There are many young moms who are just beginning and can relate to you when you said you were sharing a small apartment with six people and sleeping on the floors. How can someone keep their eye on the prize when they're living on Ramen noodles?

Who cares how you are living today? I loved every minute of living in that dump. The low rent and utilities and eating Mac and Cheese all the time allowed me to afford the startup of my business. Instead of paying myself much, I could put it in to my business.

One part in your book I loved and my heart sank at is when your fiance lost your $7,500 engagement ring. What's your advice for those who are distracted by a relationship? How do you balance a real life with your dreams?

I never was able to balance. Each person has to make their own decisions. But remember, your competitors aren't sitting by idly waiting for you to have a nice dinner with your significant other. They are trying to kick your ass. So, choose wisely.

You encourage entrepreneurs not to hire a public relations, Mark. How did you get the word out about your eBook?

I tweeted, posted on Facebook, (used) Google Plus and responded to emails. Nothing more.

Where can we get a copy of your eBook, How to Win at the Sport of Business?

Anywhere eBooks are sold: Amazon, BN.com and sited that support independent bookstores too.

As a thank you gift, Mark Cuban offered me two Landmark movie tickets to HDNet Movies Kid Scene to give away to you. Let me know if you'd like a chance to win these tickets!

Barbieland

Who's a daughter without a Barbie? Many are very critical of this fresh-faced Winsconsin girl who first came into the world on 9 March, 1959. She has been blamed for eating disorders and distorted body image ever since, demonized by feminists as an imaginary ideal woman. But, come on! Girls are far more intelligent than Barbie critics, they know their dolls are just dolls. Barbie is more like a superhero for them. She's friendly, she has friends of all nationalities, she likes a lot of different things. You can go on a safari adventure with her, then rock the red carpet. And what's wrong in some great fashion instillation after all? She can be a fashionista and teach girls that they can be anything they want to be. There was the president Barbie, the austronaut, the soldier, the rockstar, the doctor, the gymnast. She also encourages to use imagination, with endless possibilities. 

I'm team barbie, definitely. I allow my daughter to play endless hours with her dolls, just like I did with mines. I actually think Barbie empowers feminism in her own dynamic way. She shows that women have superior social etiquette and that important galas don't require men in attendance, that alternative lifestyles are possible and that it's cool to have many careers. You can have love and work at the same time, and reinventing yourself can be a good thing. What other toy gives yo so many lessons in one?

To support my ideas even more, look what Barbie Fun Facts I found. Did you know that:

• Barbie® doll has had more than 80 careers -- everything from a rock star to a paleontologist to a presidential candidate.
• Barbie® doll represented a candidate for President in 1992 and ran again in 2000 with a platform of opportunities for girls, educational excellence and animal rights. 
• In 1997, Share A Smile® Becky® was the first Mattel, Inc. fashion doll introduced with a wheelchair.
• Italian was the first nationality Barbie® doll represented in the Dolls of the World® Collection.
• Quinceanera Teresa® doll was released in Mexico in 1994 to celebrate Girls Day. 
• Barbie® doll has represented 45 different nationalities.
• The first black and Hispanic Barbie® dolls were introduced in 1980. 2002 marks the debut of Kayla, Barbie doll’s new multi-cultural friend.
• Barbie® doll has had over 43 pets including 21 dogs, 14 horses, 3 ponies, 6 cats, a parrot, a chimpanzee, a panda, a lion cub, a giraffe and a zebra.  
• Barbie.com is an online community for girls with the mission to engage, enchant and empower girls by inspiring them to be creative and explore their individual interests. 
• The Barbie® Polaroid I-zone is an instant camera that allows girls to create postage-size sticky pictures of all their fun activities.
• Barbie® doll’s boyfriend, Ken® doll made his debut two years after Barbie in 1961 and in 2001 marks his 40th anniversary.

Given that premise, it's no surprise that I rushed to the Barbie and Lego Exhibition in Ljubljana this weekend. These two of the world's most succesfull toys both celebrate their 53rd anniversary this year. We couldn't miss it. It was amazing indeed, I recognized a few Barbies I had from the 70's (whose bodies were mutilated by the fury of my dog, who used them as bones -sigh!) and, needless to say, my baby girl went nuts, literally! The show featured so many wonderful dools, oh my! Here are my favorites.

Harley Davidson Barbie

Ferrari Barbie: life in the fast lane is possible for girls too!

Ecstatic princess among Barbie Sirenes

The Cinema section: Gone with the wind and Monroe celebrations!

Their Hignesses Princess Sisi and Franz Joseph of Austria

Barbie Statue of Liberty, limited edition.

Normally I have to beg her for modeling, while here ...

Princesses section

Brides

Elvis mania

The Lord of the Ring and Superman

Dolls of the World (my favorites)

Moon and Sun Exclusives

Peruvian Barbie, one of my favorites all the time.

Barbie Cat Woman -Meow!

The exhibition was accompanied by  a programme of children's events. My Lil Princess joined the Barbie sewing clothes. She created a few elegant outfits.

I told you my girl has sense of fashion!

Now, let me tell you, given my passion for Barbie, I could even tolerate some mutilation because it's another thing Barbie is helping girls do: outgrow herself. According to researchers, there's nothing to worry about if your children torture their dolls. It's just a rite of passage and a rejection of their past. Of course I would very much prefer if Alice started collecting dolls rather than torturing her, like I did. Keeping our inner child intact helps living a fuller life, after all. But well, shall I find a Barbie burnt in the microwave in her pre-teen years, I'll try to be calm all the same. It's just another sign of versatility from this great, great toy!