The internet connection here is nearly nonexistent, there are five computers all sharing the same 56k connection. I didn’t even bring my computer down here from Rome because I knew I wouldn’t be able to use it. I’ve decided to write things out by hand, type them out in Word, and then copy and paste and postdate them when I post them online.
Basically, I am in the Italian equivalent of Medzilaborce, except that Medzilaborce has a swimming pool, hotel and the Warhol museum. Here the people are also a minority, they are Italo-Albanian with the Italo part stressed. The street signs are all bilingual, and evidently most people speak Albanian at home, although I don’t know how many people would admit it. Of course, it’s easy and important to make connections and comparisons between the Rusyn minority situation and the Italo-Albanian minority situation, because they are generally similar.
The people live in the poorest part of the poorest region of the country, but like in Medzilaborce they know they’re something different. Most people identify as part of the minority, but of course not everyone is a cultural activist. They have their intelligentsia, who want to interview people for their newspapers (which I think are bilingual probably). They also have folk ensembles, where the kids learn their songs, and dress in traditional costumes. A literary tradition exists historically and is continuing, with the most famous author being published by one of the biggest Italian publishing houses. Everyone has someone in their family who lives and works elsewhere: Germany and northern Italy are the places with the biggest diaspora. The people who stay here work hard all day and seem to know that most people who have left won’t come back except for vacations and holidays and that they will assimilate into their new environments, forgetting their past.
I say all of the above as a sort of background or foundation to what I will write about some of my experiences so far. I see and hear most things, because I can obviously understand English and then most of the Italian. Without a language barrier, it is possible to learn most sides of the story.
The apartment I share with two other people is beneath the apartment of Luigi and Maria. I sleep in the living room, because one of the other students paid for a single and the other person is a teacher in this program, and she deserves her own room. I don’t mind, we just moved my bed out into the living room, and I’ve slept in weirder and worse places anyway. I’m usually not there during the day anyway, the apartment I really just use to sleep.
However, back to Luigi and Maria. Luigi is a mechanic, I’ve seen him restoring old Fiat 500s and also fixing other cars. He’s very into Formula One racing, and almost every day brings us a huge bowl of fresh apricots or figs, because they have a garden with trees across the street. Today he also brought us some wine that he makes; their garage is full of shelves of homemade wine and canned things. From their garden, on a clear day you can see the Ionian Sea/Gulf of Taranto, which is not far away. Maria I think works at the school, and I’m not sure what she does, except that she’s not a teacher. On weekends she makes crostatas and cakes and brings some downstairs to us. Simple, but very fresh and effective desserts. Today’s had an amaretto crust, with marmalade and crumbly top. They have two daughters, one studying in Rome and the other married in Modena.
Yesterday, all of us went to the beach, then to Castrovillari and Frascineto. It was the first time in about four years that I’ve been to the beach, last time was in Torremolinos, Spain when I was a sophomore at Marymount. It was such a pleasure to swim a bit, to lay out with a warm breeze creating an invisible blanket on me. I didn’t get exceptionally burnt, but I did get some sun and now I don’t look as pasty. The beach we went to was at Marina di Sibari, we didn’t go to the excavations there though I think/hope we will eventually.
In Castrovillari, we saw the protoconvento of Saint Francis, where he never was but it was one of the first Franciscan monasteries established. We also saw the church of San Giuliano, part of which was at one time the synagogue for the sizable Jewish population there. We also saw in the church of Madonna del Castello a Byzantine-era Madonna and Child fresco that a monk had painted on the wall of a cave. Later, it was hacked out of the stone and put in the church. The same church had two provincial Caravaggisti altarpieces that were interesting to see in terms of their provincialness. Finally, in the stairway going up to the balcony, there were fragments of a fresco that was at least 1000 years old, of course Byzantine style.
We went to Frascineto because they were having their first international festival of their Italo-Albanian culture. I got to talk at length with the organizer, Pasquale Bruno, who in many ways is similar to many other cultural activists I’ve met over the years. When we got there, we walked through the different rione, or neighborhoods, following the groups who would sing and perform for the people of the rione and then be given food and drink. Besides Italo-Albanian groups, there were also groups from Bulgaria, Greece, Kosovo and I think Albania. I didn’t get to see any of the groups perform because it was after 10pm when they started the formal part of the performance on stage, but I did get to see and hear a lot as we were walking through the town.
While we were walking through the town, at one of the places where we were stopped, I took a picture of a little girl who was part of a group from Santa Sofia, another Italo-Albanian town nearby. She was part of an all-girl group who sing songs traditionally a capella. They were very good, and had the same earthy voices that seem to resonate from the mountains all over the earth. Later, we got back to the main piazza, and I sat down on a wall. Right then, some of the little girls from Santa Sofia came and sat down, waiting to perform. They asked me where I was from, and then we started talking. The following is probably one of the most rewarding, cool things that has happened to me in such a long time. About ten girls and one boy asked all kinds of interesting questions and told me all kinds of interesting things:
Are there animals that bite you in New York City? No, only rats the
size of cats, I swear. Have you been to the Grand Canyon? Is it hot
there? Yes, much hotter than it is here. Do you see any famous
people in New York City? They’re there, but I haven’t seen any yet. What about the bears in America? And does the water come out of the
earth? It’s called Yellowstone, and I’ve only seen it on tv, the way you
have. But the bears need to learn to find food themselves, not depend on
tourists that feed them. Who’s your favorite Italian actor and Actress?
Silvio Muccino and Valeria Golino, who is Italian but not very famous
here. We’ll go to New York for a weekend. Yes, but do you
understand that it takes eight hours on the plane to get from Rome to America? We’re used to going places for the weekend, it’s ok. I’ve been to
Rome! I like the Disney Store there. The one on via del Corso? Yes! Wait, eight hours on a plane? Planes aren’t safe, what about a
boat? I’ve done it once, it wasn’t that fun. We went on a school trip
once to the Isole Eolie, and it was eight hours on the ferry, but we got to
watch movies.
The really best part about being here is talking with people. My classes are good for me, but one can not depend on classes alone for fulfilment. There have been times when I’ve been stopped on the street to be asked questions, invited into people’s houses, and been encouraged to introduce myself. Today I had a nice chat with Luigi and Maria, and I told them how obvious I thought our presence must be here. They of course responded in the positive, and said that with 4000 people here, everyone knowing everyone else, 30 Americans is a lot. Evidently, the young men of San Demetrio Corone are experiencing a highly unnecessary inflation of confidence, because the girls of San Demetrio, besides being highly virtuous, are also (as Luigi said) “more under the control of their parents” whereas the American girls are “free” to do what they want. It is a well-known but frowned-upon fact that some of the American girls go up into the hills or down to the beach with boys and stay out drinking until four or five or later in the morning. Let me put it right out there that Maria Silvestri isn’t into Guidos.
I’m by no means the only person who talks to people here, but we are a small group within the bigger group.
For the kids whose first time this is in Italy, it is an amazing thing to observe (obviously this whole thing is one big observation of human nature for me, but alas). I keep reminding them that this is not normal, the rest of Italy is not like this (even though Italy is full of small towns like this), and that they really need to see Rome, Florence, Venice to have an idea of what else Italy can be like. There are many different levels of comfort and need among my fellow students, but I hear a lot of things. What I can say is that this is good for me, and you have to have the maturity to make this program what you need for yourself instead of waiting for things to be handed to you, because nothing will come from the people who are organizing it.
My time in Rome was rather hermetic, but now I am enjoying being with people, and it’s seeming more and more like I’m almost needed. This whole thing is one gigantic human-interest story, with regard to both the Americans and the Italians. The hospitality of the people of San Demetrio is wonderful, they’re so giving and so delightful. I think as time goes by, the Americans will grow more and more, and we’ll all grow more and benefit from the simplicity of these people and their lifestyle.
I talked to Fulvia today on the phone, and I told her when I get back to Rome, I was going to paint the city red. She said that would be ok. I like being here, but I could really take it or leave it.
Generally speaking, my beer consumption has increased exponentially. When it comes down to it, that’s about all there is to do here, and for 0,2l of beer it only costs €1. In Rome, the same thing costs at least €2, usually more. If I had to make a list of the pros and cons of San Demetrio Corone, cheap beer would most definitely fall into the pro column.
Until next time. It goes without saying that I have much more to say.
