ITALY/Letter from Rome: "So then, Roisin, what did you do at school today?" "Oh dad, today we had anti-terrorism and bomb-threat drills."
Sounds silly, but it is for real. If your child attends a US international school in Rome (or indeed anywhere outside the US that you care to think of), you may find that a new "activity" has been added to the school timetable.
Given that throughout the 1970s and 80s, Rome was an occasional target for Islamic terrorism, then concern and caution about possible terrorist actions on US-linked institutions in the wake of the war in Iraq are certainly not misplaced.
On the morning after the onset of hostilities in Iraq last week, our headmaster sent us a careful and sensitive letter in which he emphasised that a series of anti-terrorist security measures have long since been in place at the school.
A new school fence (we had to pay €500 extra for that one), an Italian police presence and hired security personnel on campus on a 24-hour basis are just some of the reassuring measures already introduced not so much in response to the war in Iraq, but after the September 11th attacks of 2001.
Having also wisely advised parents to limit the time younger children might spend watching TV programmes dominated by images of the war, our headmaster also asked pupils to avoid wearing any clothing with political symbols. In a multi-ethnic environment, where Jew sits down beside Muslim and Christian beside Buddhist, such a ruling represents obvious and sound good sense.
The reference to political symbols, however, was at least partly motivated by the mushrooming trend, especially but not exclusively among Italian pupils, of wearing the rainbow-coloured peace flag as a fashion accessory that also serves to make a political statement, be it wrapped around the waist, the neck or the forehead.
For Italians, as for many other Europeans, this war has sparked off confusing and contradictory emotions. Although most opinion polls indicate that up to 72 per cent of Italians are opposed to the war, even after the start of hostilities, that strong anti-Bush government sentiment flies hard in the face of traditional, post-war pro-American attitudes.
For a not so far-off generation of Italians, as for the Irish, the US represented the promised land, the point of arrival for bitterly poor emigrants destined to make good. For an even more recent generation, it was not only the superpower that helped put Italy back on its post-war feet, but also a country whose imagined lifestyle, venerated popular music and economic clout represented a popular dream, humorously brought to life in Alberto Sordi's film classic Un American A Roma, or in the Neopolitan song, Tu Vu'Far L'Americano, used in the film Ripley's Game.
Until recent times, to be "anti-American" was the prerogative of the political left, hidebound as it was by its Marxist-Stalinist roots. With the fall of the Berlin Wall, even that taboo was lifted. Until this most recent version of the Iraq crisis came along, it seemed that just about everybody (with the exception of the hard-line, unrepentant communists such as Rifondazione Communista) was pro-American, in some shape or other.
As of the last four months, though, it is acceptable to be anti-American, or at the very least anti-Bush. An instinctive Italian loathing of war (a factor unwisely ignored by Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi when he enthusiastically espoused the Bush government cause) and international public opinion may have much to do with this.
Pope John Paul II, however, may have been even more effective in swinging Italian public opinion. Despite the jealously guarded secular nature of the Italian state, and despite the all too obviously "a la carte" nature of contemporary Italian Catholicism, the Pope's words still carry weight.
Not for nothing, one of the most striking aspects of Italian peace rallies has been the strong and organised Catholic presence.
Not for nothing either, another striking aspect of the Italian peace movement has been the number of schoolchildren out "on the march". Indeed, many secondary schools were informally present, en bloc, for the big anti-war demonstration in Rome on February 15th.
This sense of pupil involvement in the anti-war movement has not gone unnoticed. This week, Rome City Council has made available an e-mail address and a fax number for children wishing to express their thoughts on the war.
Some of those who have sent messages are alarmingly young but disarmingly wise beyond their years. Take this message from seven-year-old Nicola: "War always destroys, it never constructs." Right on.