Cittadina Italiana – Citizenship

Image

In 2007 my mug graced my brand new Italian Passport.  The process to become a Cittadina Italiana took me about three years and numerous trips to the Philadelphia Consulate.  It took my sister less than one year and two trips to the Newark Consulate.  It took my niece (her picture is above) about 6 months.  It will take my cousin about three years plus.  WHAT????  Let  us start at the beginning. The questions most people ask me are these: Why would you do it?  What is the benefit of having dual citizenship?   Is the process difficult? How much did it cost you?

Why would I do it?

Why wouldn’t I do it is more like it.  In the early 1990’s I started actively researching the Guerrera Family Tree.  Piece by piece, I was collecting data, adding branches and getting more and more involved with the lives of people I had never met. To get a better handle on the research, I knew that I had to go to Pontelandolfo and visit the archives of the commune.  Zia Caterina, Jack and I made that journey in 1995 – another blog will tell you that whole story.  We not only added numerous branches to the tree but discovered my father and Zia Caterina’s first cousins!  When Zia Caterina and I had gone to Italy in the 70’s their uncles were still living – we missed an incredible opportunity then.  After meeting my extended Italian family, I became even more obsessed with all things Italian.  Particularly, all things related to this small village in Campania, Pontelandolfo. While we were there I bought a few copies of my grandmother’s and grandfather’s birth certificates and certificate of marriage.  That was an incredibly smart thing to do since folks have told me it is difficult to retrieve those documents via mailed requests – unless you use a service like http://myitalianfamily.com.

Nonno & Nonna
Nonno and Nonna

A quick search on line revealed that I was indeed eligible for citizenship – an act which would bring me even closer to my roots.  There was no “aha” moment or benefits lightbulb that exploded in my brain – just the deep seated need to be closer to my “i parenti,”  the DNA that makes me who I am.

What is the benefit?

How American of us to want to know what the hell we get out of the deal.  Like feeling closer to ones heritage isn’t enough!  Well, let me think what do I get out of it?  If Jack and I really do retire to Italy we are already part of the Italian community. During the Bush Jr. years, My sister and I did talk about moving quickly forward so that if the draft was reinstated and we didn’t particularly agree with the why behind the war we could get her kids out.  Now, that might have been our 1960’s sensibilities kicking in, because  Italy had mandatory service until January 1, 2005.   The other benefit is being able to work anywhere in the European Union – a benefit that my niece is actively using.  Further, I can stay in Italy or any of the Schengen Treaty countries for as long as I like – no ninety days for me!  ( Of course we are only staying 90 days this trip because Jack hasn’t applied for spousal citizenship yet.)  The USA State Department explains all this. http://travel.state.gov/travel/cis_pa_tw/cis/cis_4361.html   OK, I am bored with the what is the benefit idea – the benefit is IT MAKES ME HAPPY.

What is the process?

Ah, this is tricky!  In the over ten years since my family has gone through this process it has changed based on who we spoke to in which consulate and new regulations.  Here is the basic tenet – if one of your parents was an Italian citizen at the time of your birth – no matter where you are born – than you by blood are an Italian citizen.  Yikes, my dad was born in Manville, NJ – does that disqualify me?  No!  My grandparents had not become American citizens until after my dad’s birth.  That automatically made him an Italian citizen living abroad.  Did my father know that? No!  When I explored the process I explained it to him and he couldn’t believe it.  He had served as a Navy pilot during WWII, had been Mayor of our home town – how could he also be an Italian citizen?  Guess what – lots of you probably are eligible – here is what is currently on The Italian Embassy Website.

CITIZENSHIP BY DESCENT / DESCENT (” jure sanguinis “)  And ‘the son of an Italian citizen parents (father or mother) Italian citizens. Citizenship is transmitted from parents to children regardless of generation, with the condition that none of their ancestors ever renounced the nationality.

Go to the web site to read all of the rules and regulations. 

http://www.esteri.it/MAE/IT/Italiani_nel_Mondo/ServiziConsolari/Cittadinanza.htm

The first step is to discover when the elder of your Italian American family became a citizen.  We were lucky, my Zia Caterina saved everything.  Including her dad’s certificate of citizenship.

We still have the original!
We still have the original!

Since my dad didn’t know he was an Italian citizen, he didn’t renounce it.  When he found out, he was thrilled and admitted he never would have renounced it.  OK, I had the blood line covered.  Now what – this is the story of what I went through.  Next will be my sister’s story, then my niece and finally my cousin.

Midge’s Story:

I hop over to the Italian Consulate in Philadelphia and ask for a list of the requirements for citizenship.  At that time it listed things like : Birth and Death Certificates of my Grandfather,  Naturalization Certificate of my Grandfather, Marriage Certificate to my Grandmother, Birth Certificate of my Grandmother,Birth Certificate of my Father, Marriage Certificate of My Parents, Birth Certificate of Midge, Marriage License and Certificate of Midge, Birth Certificate of Midge’s Husband.  Easy – no brainer!  When I had the time, I drove from city to city in New Jersey and New York and bought the required documents.  Full of myself for accomplishing this, I waltzed into the Philadelphia Consulate without an appointment.  They took me into a secret room and I waited.  After about a half an hour of staring at the art, a lovely woman pulled me into an office and looked at my fat folder.  She smiled an said I was on the right track but needed an apostile for each document.  An apostile?  Wasn’t that one of the men who travelled with Jesus?  Turns out an apostile is a certificate from a state that guarantees that the documents that I just bought from a variety of towns were valid.  OK, so on the way home I stop in Trenton and go to the apostile office.  They explain that they can’t put an apolstile on any of the documents that I just dropped a couple of hundred dollars on because I didn’t buy them from the NJ Office of Vital Statistics. But, I stammered, the oficies of vital statistics in each town were happy to take my money.  A week or so later, I go back to Trenton and buy all of the same documents.  Since there were so many I had to have them processed.   That took a few weeks – when I got them guess what they looked like?  The same bloody pieces of paper but they originated from the NJ Office of Vital Statistics!  Off to pay for the apostiles.  I don’t remember what all this cost me but I think about $25 a piece of paper times two.  If you order documents online there are additional fees. This is from the NJ Office of Vital Statistics:

How do I obtain a record with an Apostille Seal? You must purchase a copy of your vital record from the Office of Vital Statistics and Registry and indicate on your application that it is needed for Apostille Seal. You will receive a certified copy, which contains the original signature of the State Registrar or Assistant State Registrar. You must forward this certificate to the Department of Treasury requesting an Apostille Seal.

Since my parents were married in New York City, it took a full day to gather the documents from NYC Boro Hall and then walk a few blocks to the State of New York Office to request the apostille. During each step of the process, I purchased additional copies of every document so that my sister would have a set.  When I had a completed set, I made an appointment at the Philadelphia Consulate and carried the box in.  I did make a copy of my entire packet, just so that I knew what I submitted.  About one and a half years later I got a letter from Pontelandolfo saying that I was a citizen.  Wheeeeeeeeooooooooooo.

Sister Susan:

Susan had copies of all of the documents.  When she got around to doing this, residents of Somerset County New Jersey were told to use the Consulate in Newark.  We read the website and made an appointment for her – it was about four months out.  We also read the new regulations – she needed a translation of every document – including the apostiles.  You were only allowed to use an Italian translater from the consulate’s approved list.  That cost her about $50 a document.  This was all done via e-mail.  We scanned the documents and sent them off.  Scanned translations came back.  This was great we thought – because now my cousin Maryellen can use the same translations.  Susan took her two children to the appointment.  We figured we would process everyone at the same time.  WRONG.  Susan had to be certified first.  She was missing something – I can’t remember what – but I do remember pleading and begging with the consulate employee because whatever it was I knew was on file from me in Pontelandolfo. Susan made a second appointment and returned with whatever had been left on the dining room table.  During the second visit, she is given a document that she is told her daughter can use to prove lineage and easily apply for citizenship.  We go for dinner and a drink or three.  Just a few months later Susan gets her letter of recognition.

Niece Alex:

Alex lives and goes to university in London.  I suggested she use the London Consulate.  She took her handy document from Newark and back up documents and headed to that office.  They told her she needed to supply the same complete package that her mother had submitted and that the little certificate from Newark was nothing. UGGGGG.  All of this is now done electronically, Alex asked if they couldn’t just get the same documents sent back to them?  No.  Another appointment please.  Oh yeah, now we have to make the packet and get it to London!  She brings the packet and is nervous about completion.  She would like to stay and work in Europe and the EU Passport would be very helpful.  Months go by and she hears nothing.  She visits and e-mails the London Consulate and they say all things were e-mailed to Pontelandolfo.  We asked our cousin to visit the Pontelandolfo office of Vital Statistics and check on Alex’s status.  Instantly, her paperwork was done and her certification sent off.

Formal Letter
Formal Letter

Cousin Maryellen:

Takes all of the same documents – but adds her dad’s information – translated and in a cute folder to her appointment at the Newark Consulate.  There, she doesn’t get past the triage dude.  You see, my grandfather’s birth certificate from Italy says Francesco Guerrera but his citizenship papers say Frank Guerrera – how do we know it is the same person?  This name change – a common occurrence – happened with her father’s documents and our grandmothers.  They told her nothing could be processed until she got the documents certified as belonging to the same person.  I was with her and argued up a storm, explaining that two of us had already used the exact same documents and gotten citizenship. Further, all of the documents were already on file in Pontelandolfo.  He shrugged.  We left and Maryellen hasn’t moved the process forward. So lessons learned.  Double check everything.  Read all new regulations.  If you can, have a local relative in Italy lobby for you! What did it cost me?  Do we count the trip to Italy to buy the birth and marriage certificates?  I’d say if you include travel and all the mistakes I made it cost me about $1,000.  It cost my sister about the same because it was $50 a document for translation plus the cost of the original documents and apostile.

Was it worth it?

Hell yes!

Fiori di Zucca Fritta – Fried Squash Blossoms

Gardens all over Pontelandolfo are bursting with zucchini flowers.  Folks plant tons of plants – not because they are looking for an abundance of zucchini to give to their neighbors, but so they can eat the blossoms!

First step was to pick the flowers.  In Flagtown, NJ where we have tried to plant zucchini, the deer get there first.  Here in Pontelandolfo, deer are not a problem.  Midge, who loves fried zucchini flowers, is the natural predator.  Today, when I got back to our house Zia Vittoria,our fabulous landlady, walked out and said don’t cook – I have fiori di zucca.  Well, I don’t really know what she said because she speaks the dialect of the village and I only understand about 10 %.  But – I saw the flowers –  and I knew where she was going.  So, I volunteered to help her fry up a batch and learn her technique.  I’ve made these too and my recipe is a bit different.  We will follow Zia Vittoria’s recipe and talk about mine later.

IMG_0802
Flour, eggs, salt and tad of yeast powder. Let it sit a bit.

It looked and felt like the consistency of pancake batter – or a Bisquick batter.  She had it resting in front of a sunny window and it was uncovered.

IMG_0796
How pretty those sweet things are.

The zucchini blossoms were fairly large.  First we popped off the stems. (I’ve never seen that done before)  Then we washed them and let them drain.

IMG_0797
Squish and they are flatter and bigger looking.

This next step was totally new to me.  She took a dish towel, hand dried each blossom and flattened it.  Just a bit of pressure between two sections of the dish towel.

IMG_0804
Blossoms just floating in batter.

Then she dumped a bunch of them into the batter and let them sit a while.

IMG_0809
Most village homes have more than one kitchen. The working kitchen where you make really messy stuff, like huge vats of sauce, smoke prosciutto, can vegetables etc. This home has a working kitchen in a small separate house – with a huge fireplace and wood burning oven – they really do smoke meat there.

Meanwhile she choose a small frying pan with high sides and filled it about 3/4’s of the way with olive oil.  She ladled the oil from a big vat in her working kitchen.  I was shocked!  We have all been told for years not to deep fry in olive oil.  I asked her and she said something like, ” why should I buy oil to fry in when we make our own perfectly fine olive oil.”  I waited to see if it would smoke or flame or turn us into strega – but no it worked perfectly fine.

IMG_0805
Gentle does it!

The next step was to gently turn each blossom in the batter.  She used a flick of her wrist and didn’t tear one flower.

IMG_0813
At this point my mouth waters.

By now the oil was sizzling and bubbling – stil no flames of death or smoke.  Each blossom was plopped in the hot oil until she filled one layer of the pan.  After the first side was brown, she used a slotted spoon and flipped them over.  Meanwhile, I put paper towels on a number of trays – yes I got the simple job – I washed the dishes too!

IMG_0814
I should have doubled up the paper towels.

When the second side was brown the blossoms were taken out – again using a slotted spoon and placed on paper towels to drain.  At this point, you can add some salt to them.   Here is the finished product!  They were enveloped in a light pancake and very tasty.

IMG_0820
Instead of an appetizer this turned out to be lunch – we couldn’t stop eating them.

Mine were a little different.  What follows is a batch I made last week from some purloined blossoms.

IMG_0693
Jack and I had wine and blossoms for a late night snack. Ahhhhhhh

I didn’t use yeast – just eggs, flour, salt and pepper.  We had some left over cheese that was drying out so I sliced chunks and stuck a few pieces inside each blossom.  Then I dredged them in the batter and fried them in canola oil.  As they were draining, I did toss some salt on the blossoms . They came out really crispy and light with oozing cheese in the middle.

Happy blossom hunting!

A Typical Day – Video Blog Experiment

Yikes, these Apple products are cool.  I had no idea how to make a video blog of myself talking about Pontelandolfo.  Then I remembered, I had a Mac Air Book – or is that a MacBook Air – and I guessed there would be a way that was so easy a kid could do it.  So I called over a 5 year old Italian kid – who couldn’t read the English directions but pointed the screen of the lap top at me and said “Parli”.  So I did.  Let me know what you think of the Video Blog idea.  As an aging theater professional, it is easy to talk and talk and talk….

Ciao Ciao Linda in Abruzzo

I have no idea if this link will seamlessly lead you to Ciao Ciao Linda’s blog – but I hope so.  She has just written about truffle hunting in Abruzzo and it made my mouth water.  My cousin’s husband Mario also hunts for truffles here in Pontelandolfo and we have had some incredible truffle based meals.  Give a glance at Linda’s blog – I bet you’ll get hungry too.  Boun appetit.

http://ciaochowlinda.blogspot.it/2013/06/truffle-hunting-in-abruzzo.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed:+CiaoChowLinda+(Ciao+Chow+Linda)

San Antonio Brings Summer to Pontelandolfo

IMG_0632
San Antonio Kicks Off Summer

Yeah, it is officially summer in Pontelandolfo!  Yesterday, June 13th, was the festa for San Antonio di Padova – the annual kick off of the summer season.  This saint merits a two pronged celebration – check out the poster – “Programma Religiouso” and Programma Civile”.  Over two days, San Antonio was given three masses, a procession with a band  and his statue was carried through out the town!  The not so religious program was a great cover band set up in the piazza that played the canon of Italian rock and traditional folk frenzy music.

Jack and I made it to town in time to see the procession come down a hill from the church. The brass band led the way, followed by the little children in white robes and a group of men carrying the massive stature.  There were even more folks processing than I had seen for Corpus Domini.  We decided to sit at a bar and watch the actiity.

The three bar’s in the piazza had set up outside service bars, food stations and extra tables. Think the Jersey Shore! Our favorite, Bar Elimar, sported wicker couches and coffee tables. Two of the bars had set up “kebab” stations – we would call them gyro stations.  Big hunks of mystery meat on a gyro skewer turning slowly and oozing a great scent.

IMG_0433
My favorite place to sit, stare and sip.

We plopped on the comfy couches at Bar Elimar, ordered a vino bianco and a prosecco, and quietly watched the procession wend its way out of the square.  When our drinks arrived, we were pleasantly surprised to also get great little plates of olives, mini mini sandwiches and little fried puff pastries.  After two drinks each and the whopping 5 Euro bill ($6.60), we carefully walked up the hill towards the medieval tower.   We were headed for Il Castello, a great seafood and pizza restaurant.

The band wasn’t starting for another hour and the owners of Il Castello, Salvatore and Lidia, always treat us like family.  We knew that munching on Salvatore’s wood oven pizza and chatting up a storm in both Italian and English with Lidia would be a great way to pass the time.  We ate our pizza, drank our wine and then felt the drums begin to fill the square.   It was time to carefully pick our way over the cobblestones down the steep hill to the piazza.  How do young women wear heels on cobblestones?  I am tripping my way down in flats.  Ooops – #$%#%%.

Since it was a bit chilly – the wind was whipping over the mountain – there weren’t as many people out for the nine o’clock “spettacolo” as I’ve seen at past musical events.  Those of us who did brave the chill, with grappa and caffè in hand, danced in place, swayed and sang along.  Ba ba boom – and then the fireworks kicked in.  Jack and I quickly went to the promenade that overlooks a valley and watched the show.  Something really bothered me – no one said “Ahhhhh” or  “Ohhhhh”.  I tried to get the crowd to ooo and ahh but Jack put his hand on my mouth.  I guess I was embarrassing him.

When we lived in Asbury Park and were the insane proprietors of Caffè e Dolce, the money losing bistro from hell, Memorial Day kicked off the summer season.  In the good old days, there would be a concert on the beach and thousands of kids would squish together on the sand and hopefully buy stuff from all of us starving beach front vendors. The day after the Memorial Day event the beach was full of trash.  The boardwalk was full of trash.  The streets were full of trash.  You will never guess what I didn’t see walking into town today – TRASH!  Last night, there was a concert, dancing in the streets, fireworks and folks sitting all around the piazza. I found one soda can under a tree and a couple of paper towels.  H’mmm che cosa???

I must tell you, until yesterday, I was freezing my proverbial ass off (OK, I wish it would freeze off) but you get the idea.  May was incredibly cold.  I had a visiting nephew pack a pair of sweat pants for me and bring them to not so sunny in May Italy.  Today – the day after we celebrated San Antonio, I walked down the hill to Bar Elimar for my morning cappuccino and it was hot.  Not a little warm, not maybe a great day, but honest to heaven summer hot – and it was only 8:30 AM!  That San Antonio is an incredibly powerful guy!

Check out the slides!

http://youtu.be/Q4jRhFtAYH8

Read all about more Summer Events in Pontelandolfo – In Italian of course!

http://www.pontelandolfonews.com/index.php?id=3387

Subscriber Dirties Her Hands With Dough!

This post was sent to me by an incredible cook, Kathy Hall.  I know she’s a great cook because I have sat at her table and practically licked the plate clean every time she invites me over.  She has been following “Nonna’s Mulberry Tree” and sent me this pictorial post of her own.  Enjoy!

Kathy:

Homemade fresh pasta has always ranked high on my kitchen bucket list. I have always cooked almost everything from scratch and still have a fond memory of a pasta party at my  friend Grace’s college apartment. She was the first in our crowd to get a Cuisinart and we watched in amazement as in less than two minutes the flour and eggs formed a ball of dough right in the bowl. We liked it so much we did it three times. Luckily, being Italian, she had a pasta maker so we all took turns cranking away for about an hour then happily stringing fresh strands on the back of every available kitchen chair.

That was over 40 years ago. This summer my friend Midge traveled to Italy to reconnect with her Italian heritage and I am following along virtually via  this blog.  One of her first posts was a recipe for homemade pumpkin ravioli with walnuts, parmesan and speck. It looked and sounded heavenly so I dug out my rolling pin and borrowed my neighbor’s ravioli cutter.

It was not a complete success. The filling was a savory rustic delight. The pasta, which I insisted on rolling by hand, was way too thick and cooked up into a gummy mess of semi raw dough not worthy of it’s yummy filling.

Time for technology. I ordered a pasta machine from Amazon and watched a bunch of Youtube videos on how to make home made pasta. This is my second batch in four days (We ate the first one too fast to photograph.)

IMG_0094
Mound of flour and one egg – here’s looking at yah!

The recipe is simple, one egg, about 2/3’s of a cup of all purpose flour, a small splash of olive oil and a little salt (if I remember to add it). I mix it old school starting by making a hole in a mound of flour big enough to hold one broken egg. I scramble the egg, olive oil and salt with a fork and then slowly incorporate the flour working from the inside of the volcano out.

Scramble that egg!
Scramble that egg!
IMG_0101
Make sure you washed your hands!

When the fork gets coated with the thick egg flour mixture I switch to my hands continuing to incorporate flour until I have a  not too wet, not too dry dough. It’s not as magical as the Cuisinart but it’s a lot less clean up.

The next step is where practice makes a difference as I transform that sloppy doughy mess by manipulating it with my hands. Pasta making is similar to bread making. You have to experience how the dough should feel as you knead it. Ideally your Italian grandmother shows you this. I’m Irish so I learned by experimenting and seeing how different doughs perform as pasta.

IMG_0102
Who kneads a gym?

For those non bakers, here’s how to knead. Flour your hands and the board. Stretch the ball of dough you formed by pushing down and away from you with the heel of your hand, then rotate 90 degrees, fold in half and push again. If it’s too wet sprinkle a little more flour on the ball and keep working it. If it’s too dry wet your hands and incorporate that little bit of water as you knead. A lot depends on the size of the egg, how much olive oil you put in and the humidity in the air. Relax, work slowly and enjoy. In time you will know when you have the right combination of flour, eggs and water. Eventually the dough will stop sticking to your hands and start to become silky.

Keep pushing away, folding and rotating until the dough is smooth and springs back when poked. It takes between six and ten minutes total and is a nice upper body workout. Then form the dough back into a ball, wrap it in plastic wrap and let it rest at room temperature for 30 minutes. Some recipes say to flour the ball before wrapping it, others say to coat it with a little olive oil. I flour if the dough seems a little wet, oil if it seems a little dry.

While the dough rests, I make a sauce and put on a big pot of salted water to boil. One night my sauce was fava beans, garlic and olive oil. The next it was tomato sauce with turkey sausage and mushrooms that I had in the freezer. The classic combination of butter and cheese is also good.

photo
Looks amazing!

After the dough rests, and the sauce and boiling water are ready. Either try to roll the pasta out by hand or dig out a pasta machine and follow the instructions. I strongly recommend the pasta machine. Unlike the Cuisinart, it never has to be washed, just dusted off with a pastry brush.

Roll your pasta dough til it’s thin enough to see your hand on the other side, cut into your favorite shape, cook for two to four minutes depending on thickness, toss with sauce and enjoy. . I can’t speak about left overs since we have had none. This recipe serves two people if you are used to 2 ounce dry pasta servings.

IMG_0117
Yummy!

Next week I’m tackling those ravioli again.

Buon appetito!

Kathy Hall

Procession – Celebrating Corpus Domini

Petals tossed by white robed cherubs.
Petals tossed by white robed cherubs.

I walk down the cobblestone hill through crushed rose petals tossed at me by sweet young girls in flowing white robes – their hair festooned with crowns of flowers.  Birds are singing and the cadence of soles on pavement stirs me.  Instinctively, my inner muse comes to life and I begin to move my arms in the fluid style of Isadora Duncan or Ruth St. Denis. POP – POP POP- ZZZEEEEE –  I hear the pop and feedback of the sound system and then the rhythmic reading of Mons. Giusseppe Rosario Girardi,  the Pontelandolfo parish priest.  Whoops, I remember where I am – processing to celebrate Corpus Domini (Corpus Christi) and I start behaving like the good woman I am.

To celebrate Corpus Domini  the parish of San Salvatore in Pontelandolfo (Arcidiocesi di Benevento) and many parishes across Italy had a mass on June 2nd followed by a procession.     My cousin called and suggested I come to mass and participate in the procession.  I didn’t know what to expect.  The last Pontelandolfo procession I walked in women were barefooted – silly me not understanding enough Italian at the time thought they were barefoot to protect their expensive shoes from the harsh cobblestone streets – not reliving the pain of Christ.  My Italian has improved a lot since then but I still wasn’t sure what I was in for.

The past week I went to mass in this same Baroque style building and the church wasn’t full.  Of course, folks do have multiple masses at three different churches to choose from, so it is difficult to assess the strength of the Catholic Church  The Corpus Domini mass was held in the church in which my grandmother was married.  It was first built before 1500 (Romanesque) and then destroyed totally in an earthquake in 1688 and up and running ten years later.  Paolo Collection (33)Inside, the church is divided into  three naves with incredible paintings – but we’ll save the church/art tour for another post.   I love going to the church and imagining nonna on her wedding day or holding her children at the baptismal font. I can feel the presence of my history in these stone walls and sense the eyes of my family looking at the incredible art.  Yeah, yeah,  I am rambling.

IMG_2194
The alter is amazing!

Back to this particular mass – it was packed.  There was barely standing room.  A group of young girls sat in the front wearing white robes and garlands of white flowers in their hair.  At first I thought the boys I saw enter in white robes were alter boys but there were too many of them.  I found out later  that the children who had their first communion either one or two weeks earlier always get to lead this procession.  The sounds of the service surrounded me.  The choir, accompanied by guitar, overwhelmed the naves and primary space with sweet music.  The priest didn’t have such success with the microphone system which tweaked with feedback and growled irregularly.  However, everyone participated verbally in the mass – this really surprised me.  Even the children maintained a sense of decorum.  I hadn’t a clue as to what was being said but the magic of every voice – without the aid of a missal – responding and singing was chilling.  During those brief periods when I attend church, everyone clutches a book and reads along.   One of the young women told me that even as children they didn’t look at a book to learn responses. Little kids actually listened in church and mimicked their parents to learn the  responses, prayers and creeds.

When the mass was over, I hung back to take a picture of the alter to show you.  The little guys in white were all lined up holding candles and also waiting for the space to clear.  I didn’t know how the procession worked and – well oops – my presence may have gotten them in a bit of trouble over a missed cue. As I quietly went to the front of the church – to the nave on the left and lit a candle for my nonna – I heard of chorus of sweet young voices say “hello, hello”.  I turned and with big smiles and candles waving, six charming elementary students that I had been a guest English teacher too were happily demonstrating their vebal prowess.  A quick rebuke from an elder and they stopped smiling and started down the aisle.  I snapped my picture and also headed for the front of the church.

IMG_0645
Piazza in front of the church – note the girls in white to the right.

I’m guessing there were well over two hundred people waiting to walk in the procession.

Procession started from the front steps of Chiesa Madre del S.S. Salvatore.
Procession started from the front steps of Chiesa Madre del S.S. Salvatore.

Six men carried a golden canopy out of the church and stood poised on the church steps.  Under canopy is a gilded cup holding the host.  The beautiful young girls stood in two parallel lines, holding baskets full of flower petals. Young members of the church held up the portable speakers and microphones.  One young woman  started reading and the priest slowly came down the steps.  The young girls tossed flower petals on the ground.  The priest walked through and the congregation followed.

IMG_0652
This is the alter of San Donato, who along with Sant’ Antonio, is the patron saint of the village. He merits a huge festival in August here and in places around the world – like Montreal and Waterbury CT – where people from Pontelandolfo have gone.

Little alters are permanently placed around the village.

As we all walked up and down the hills of the town, the readings were broadcast through portable speakers and everyone was contemplative.

If you go to You Tube you can see quite a few Corpus Domini processions.  I felt I would be the ugly American if I pulled out a video camera to record the event.  OK, I did sneak a few photos on my phone – —

IMG_0648
Silently we walked up and down the village lanes.
IMG_0649
Two sets of young people carried the portable speakers. One pair was in the front and one in the rear.

Talking For Free To Pals Scattered Around the World

Janet and Midge do Facetime

FaceTime at work!  I hate to do a commercial for Apple but I have to tell you, FaceTime is an incredibly easy way to chat with the pals at home.  Sometimes, however, the visual can be a little scary.  I mean you never know in what state of composure you are going to catch someone.  But then, they don’t have to answer the chirp.  My best bud Janet called me via FaceTime and snapped this shot of me on her iPad with her iPhone.  Facetime works really well from iPad to iPad.   What I really like is the ability to switch the camera from a shot of me to a shot of where ever I am.  There is a camera on both the display side and the back.  Or is that the front?  Apple says “FaceTime works right out of the box — no need to set up a special account or screen name. And using it is as easy as it gets. Let’s say you want to start a video call with your mom. Find her entry in your contacts and tap the FaceTime button.”  (http://www.apple.com/ios/facetime/ )  It hasn’t been quite that easy for me.  After you tap the FaceTime button you are asked if you want to use the person’s cell phone number or e-mail address.  I discovered that my friends and I had to use our e-mail addresses not cell phone numbers.  Once we figured that out it was seamless and we use it often.

IMG_0670
Happy Hall Family Via Skype

Skype is another service that I use to chat face to face with friends. You have to know the person’s Skype moniker and that is a pain in the proverbial butt.  I can barely remember my own name and find it tedious to e-mail pals and ask for their Skype addresses.  The Skype visuals seem out of focus or pixel yucky (note the techy jargon).  Microsoft now owns Skype and I wondered if that was why it didn’t work well with my Apple family of products.  The audio, however, is always pretty clear. Occasionally  it is a little behind the video – kind of like bad English dubbing of a foreign film. Or bad Italian dubbing of Law and Order.  I have put a few pennies into the Skype pot to make calls to landline phones and it has never worked for me.  It is pennies to call the USA via Skype and Verizon charges gold bullion for international roaming.  That said, the Skype calls never connected and were dropped.  I have read a number of reviews on line that swear that Skype calls work really, really well.  Well, I really, really haven’t experienced that.

The easiest interface to use is facebook.  All of your two thousand best buds are listed on the right hand side of the screen.  A little green dot means they are allegedly on-line.  The little green dot could also mean the computer is on line the the human is out having cocktails on the patio.  Click on the name of the friend whose green dot beckons you.  A screen pops up so that you can instant message or click on the little camera and a video call begins.  You don’t have to know their phone, number, e-mail address or shoe size.  I have used the facebook video chat a lot.

Thanks Kathy for being my communications model.
Thanks Kathy for being my facebook friend.

Facebook is how I connect with my Italian family when I am in the USA.  The video is often rough around the edges – to the point of being ghost like.  The audio quality seems to vary depending on the space the person is in – cavernous echoes have been known to happen.  I didn’t realize until I sat down to write this that Skype and facebook now have some sort of marriage.  The icons appear on both web-sites.

To summarize:  the Apple FaceTime wins but if you want to hear the voices of those you left behind any of these internet methods will work.  Happy calling!  Hey, if you know of any other ways to beat the phone companies and BS for days with pals around the world let us all know!  I’ll be calling you!