MY LITTLE LAUNDERETTE

This is a lavatoio. If you had lived in these Tuscan hills before World War II, this is where you would have done your laundry. Invisible beneath the water are serrated stones where you could scrub your clothes. After that, a rinse, a hand wring and after that home to spread out to dry. In fine weather it might have been a little social event but it was still back breaking.

There is one of these in every community. All are fed by mountain streams. The most poignant is in the village of Sant'Anna di Strazzema. It's the the only real remnant of the village that was. On August 12, 1944, retreating men of the 16th SS Panzergrenadier Division Reichsführer-SS rounded up 560 villagers and refugees, mostly women, children and older men, shot them and then burned their bodies. In the aftermath of the massacre the village was only partially rebuilt and stands today as a memorial.

If you stand in the yard in front of the church, you are standing on their ashes. There is a museum there with pathetic artifacts and photographs of those who died. Young women with their 1940s hair, young girls in their confirmation dresses, old men and boys. There are a few photographs of American soldiers from the all-black Buffalo Brigade stationed in Lucca. The town was known to harbor partisans and death was the punishment.

The lavatoio there is large and you can almost hear the ghostly laughter of women engaged in gossip while they did their weekly laundry chore. It is a melancholy place in a very beautiful setting. It is a reminder of what human beings can do to each other.

The picture I really wanted to use is this one: Frog
The lavatoio makes a fine home for any number of the little creatures. But a frog is a frog and how many outside of Italy have seen these outdoor laundries?

Both photographs straight from the camera, no messing about.