an american fiat

When I think of the most important things to me I always focus on travel. For me like everyone else travel is primarily about discovery. I zero in on the small details that collectively make up the character of a place in my understanding. 5-cent rolls in Berlin. The subway announcements which sounded as if they ended in “klariodnok” in Budapest. The sparkling orange-ish soda in the bahamas. Yet what remains in my mind more than anything are the everyday things that show evidence of history. As my life has focused on the part of the world which used to be governed by communism, related imagery is of paramount importance to me. The silence on public transportation in eastern Berlin. The Soviet-produced subway trains in Budapest. The word “Kosmonaut” in eastern dialects of German. Yet somehow the most important artifacts are the cars. The German Trabi, the Czech Skoda, and the Polish Mały Fiat. Now I know Fiat is Italian but for me the Italian Fiat is a glamorous car driven by people in Milan who spend thousands of dollars on clothes from companies involving names like Ferragamo. My knowledge of Italy Fiat and whoever Salvatore Ferragamo is is minimal but that’s not the point; it is unique from its Polish comrade. The Mały Fiat (or Little Fiat) is only Italian for me insofar as it is a symbol of a foreign company sending in their products for profits which would never benefit Poland. In Poland, the Mały Fiat is a comically tiny car observable everywhere, a symbol of economic imperialism and poverty. I am making no argument based on these claims as to its presence in the U.S. It was just anathema to me to see it here. Of course this is a mighty fine version of the Polish clunker sitting next to my car in the faculty lot here at The College of New Jersey.