Oliena, Sardinia —

Here in Oliena, it seems that the femina agabbodora have modernized. Apparently, “a sharp tap on the head with the hammer” just doesn’t cut it anymore.

I have always heard that Oliena is Sardina’s true spiritual heart, the village where the Sard’s independent, quarrelsome and reclusive nature is most strongly on display. Yes and no.

Visually, these impressions ring true. It is a scrappy place of mostly undistinguished, boxy homes. Some have fallen into disrepair and some look like they were abandoned half way through construction. In the mid-afternoon, the sunny streets are deserted and the strongest human impressions are the dozens of murals that suggest an ongoing revolution. It feels more like Mexico than Italy. The inhabitants are surely an angry, downtrodden bunch.

Once the heat subsides, the streets start to fill. Sure enough, all women of a certain age are dressed in black and scurry along the street with their faces down. Gentlemen of a certain age don their Coppola caps and take their places at tables in front of the local bar. The rest of the population seems like standard issue Italians 2009. Young women roam in sexy halter-tops and young men zip by on their scooters wearing t-shirts that promote the local disco, Odyssey Night. The children are loud and very mobile. No one seems particularly oppressed.

We settled in at the bar where a heated debate was in progress. I was curious as to what type of anger was being vented. It was pretty standard fare and boiled down to just two unrelated issues. The youth of today show no respect. And, drunk driving laws in Italy are unduly harsh.

Viva la revolucion!