Something that Italians got right is the caldaia, the water heater. Here in Italy, water is only heated when it’s needed. There’s no tank, standing by idling. There’s no running out of hot water in the middle of a shower, after someone else has showered. No. It just hangs there on the wall, poised and ready to burst into action to heat your water as needed. Pretty sweet.

Just a few steps outside the house in the studio there’s a second caldaia, so we have a pair of caldaie. (Isn’t just adding an ‘s’ way easier for making plurals?) But any way we have a handy second caldaia. If, for some reason, say a particularly windy day, or a pretty heavy rain, and we don’t have electricity in the house, we might still have it in the studio. So we can always go out there for a quick shower. The caldaia for the house is a tricky one since it’s located outside, recessed into the wall. The one for the studio is hanging high on the wall inside a closet. They are really quite versatile contraptions.

But. . . the caldaia does require regular maintenance. Every year we call Andrea. Last week he arrived dressed head to toe in black. He had on a black tee shirt that had Ciao Ciao written across the front in classic Coca Cola lettering. Clever. He had on black pants to match. I asked him if it was difficult to stay clean and his response was, “No, no. È più difficile se si porta il bianco, It’s more difficult if one wears white.” He arrives with his shop vac, briskly walking toward the back of the house. He hands me the plug and I nod agreeably, doing my ceremonial plugging-in at the kitchen outlet. Once he has power, he vacuums, well. . .em, something inside the caldaia box. And it must be pretty dirty because it takes a few minutes for him to get it squeaky clean. He does a few other technical adjustments and then he opens the maintenance manual and carefully records his visit.

This isn’t something that we just do for fun, even though it is a pleasant enough experience. We must! According to Italian law, the caldaia absolutely has to be cleaned and . . . taxed. Yes, you read correctly. Each caldaia is taxed every two years. It’s probably just a way for Italy to be sure people have well-running machines and that everybody is safe, since they are usually fueled by gas. Or probably, and more likely, it’s a revenue source. Yeah, that’s a distinct possibility. But at any rate, everyone pays the tax.

Andrea is authorized to collect the tax, which must be paid in cash, following the inspection. He took out a receipt book and announced that 2010 is our year to pay the tax. The cost is 10 euro. Since we have two units, the cost is 20 euro. Emerson handed Andrea the money, and he took it and promptly set it aside. He then filled in a receipt for each caldaia, asked Em to sign no fewer than 4 official documents and then swooped up the 20 euro bill again. From somewhere he produced a small stapler. Then with the record of the cleaning, the tax notice, a copy of the receipt AND the money all aligned neatly by their upper left corners, crunch! he stapled them all together! Even the money. I opened my mouth to tell him that in the US such an action is illegal since it is defacing the currency. But then I remembered that up until 2002, the legal currency here was still lira and everybody loved the lira. They reluctantly went along with the change to the euro out of neccessity, but that doesn’t mean they liked it. So far, they haven’t come to love the euro. Some still pine for their beloved lira.

Andrea turned on his heel, picked up his shop vac and started down the steps toward his truck. He stopped momentarily to look out over the valley. Italians get this sort of dreamy-eyed look when they speak of their love of bel Italia. “È un giorno bellissimo! La campagna è meravigliosa, sempre calmo e pacifico, It is a beautiful day. The countryside is wonderful, always quiet and peaceful.” He sighed, turned and smiled at us and said, “Bella giornata, have a good day.” We waved and called back to him, “Grazie, anche a te, thanks, same to you! Ci vediamo l’anno prossimo, See you next year!”

Who would ever think that having your water heaters checked and taxed would be the highlight of your day? The fact is . . . everything is beautiful in Italy.

Posted on September 14, 2010

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