Il Condominio del Sabato

The condominium meeting meets every third Saturday of the month in the internal courtyard of a 19th-century palazzo in Rome. This time the agenda has only one item: the garden. The internal courtyard, with its ancient well and lemon pots, has been the subject of the dispute for three months. On one side are the old residents: they want to keep the courtyard as it is, with the lemons, rosemary and lavender plants. On the other side, the newcomers: they would like a barbecue, a designer table and modern lighting. Signora Elvira, eighty years old, has lived on the first floor since 1968. She takes the floor first. "I saw this courtyard being born. My husband planted the lemons in '72. It's not a garden, it's a piece of history." Lorenzo, the new resident of the fourth floor, replies: "I understand, signora. But it's not a split between generations. It's a question of respect." Elvira sighs. "Respect? You want cement. We want soil." The administrator, a patient man with reading glasses, proposes a vote. But the tension is such that nobody raises their hand. Signora Elena, ground floor, who had remained silent until now, speaks. "I've been here for a year. But I understood something: the residents of the third floor have never participated in any meeting." "Maybe the real problem isn't the garden, but that half the building doesn't talk to the other half." Silence. Then Lorenzo smiles. "Signora Elvira, if I water your lemons, can you teach me how to prune them?" Elvira looks at him. Something melts. The compromise is simple but profound: a barbecue in the courtyard, yes, but surrounded by lemons.