Nonna's Mulberry Tree

San Antonio Brings Summer to Pontelandolfo

June 15, 2013August 28, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

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.

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!

June 12, 2013June 20, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Food - Eating In and Out!

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

Next week I’m tackling those ravioli again.

Buon appetito!

Kathy Hall

Procession – Celebrating Corpus Domini

June 10, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 – —

Silently we walked up and down the village lanes.

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

June 5, 2013June 20, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Practical Matters - Living Abroad

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.

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!

Final Push – Elections in Pontelandolfo

June 3, 2013June 20, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Politics - Quirky Aside

THIRTY DAYS! A scant 30 days to tell the world you are running for office! How bloody civilized! In the USA the campaign season never ends. One election is over and the slow news channels start tossing names to the wind for the next series of elections. Here, candidates by law have exactly 30 (THIRTY) days to pitch themselves. Friends of ours who are ex-pats in Ecuador told me the same rule applies there. Thirty days to tell us about yourself. if you can’t make a pitch in 30 days you shouldn’t be pitching.The concept was a little unnerving for me – especially on the 2 (TWO) election days. There was no little job I could do. No elderly folks to drive to the polls. No bars to roll drunks out of. No cemeteries to pull names off of. Damn, what is a Jersey Girl supposed to do? Well, what everyone else did. Go vote!

Candidates stood together chatting as a team in front of the polling places – even Ripley would not believe this – candidates did not approach a single voter! They didn’t toss a palm card at them or kiss their kids! But I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s talk about the last few of those thirty days.

The “list” that we were following did continue it’s door to door press. “Facsimile” ballots were distributed with an X through the right circle. Yes, I will admit I carried mine into the polling place with me. They also reminded people to come to the piazza on the Friday night before the Sunday election. You heard me – SUNDAY – the polls were open from 8:00 AM until 10:00 PM. Monday they were open from 8:00 AM until 3:00 PM. Friday night was the last legal night to campaign. Saturday was the day when people were to think about what they heard, reflect and get ready to vote on Sunday. Now, can I attest that no one campaigned – nah – and neither would you ! I will tell you that the candidate that I knew best was home with her family on Saturday and insisted there was no campaigning.

Friday night I went to the piazza not knowing what to expect. A balcony above the square had a sound system, electronic keyboard and podium. The posters of the first list were up. It was drizzling and I thought who but the crazy American is going to stand in the rain, stare up at a balcony and listen to a bunch of politicians. The whole village – that’s who! Initially only a few cars pulled into the piazza and folks parked with the front windows facing the balcony.

An hour later the entire piazza was a drive in movie. Cars faced the show, windows down to hear the speeches and moms running out to get pizza and drinks to go. When the rain let up, people got out of their cars. If they liked what they heard they honked and cheered! This is a community that is totally involved in the political system. Enough words – check out the video.

Going for the early and often motif – I voted on Sunday. Clutching my certificate of eligibility to vote, I went into the school, found my district, handed in my certificate only to have an election worker stare at it, stare at me and demand my “documents”. I had no freakin’ idea what that meant but luckily had my italian passport on me. I handed it over, assumed an arrogant posture, and watched as the dude stared at my picture and stared at me. Finally, with a humpf he said fine. I signed in, was given a pencil and a paper ballot. I went to the two foot high cubical, put my X on the circle, wrote in Mancini, folded the ballot and stuffed it in the ballot box! Yeah, how cool is that, you actually get to stuff a ballot box. By the end of a rainy Sunday about one-third of the eligible voters had voted. About fifty-one percent of eligible voters ultimately turned out. Can you imagine! This was an off cycle election and people actually came out!

Monday, I had to do something. It is impossible to just sit out an election. So I wandered down to the polling place to watch the counting of the ballots. In front of a crowd, each ballot is pulled out, shown to the room, the Sindaco’s name read and the consigliere’s name read. Those names are marked and the ballot is put aside. That means that political organizations can keep an accurate tally too. No hanging chads here – just a big X. I got bored after a while because doing show and tell with a couple thousands sheets of paper takes a lot longer than reading numbers off the back of a machine. To see the final results read the numbers in the Pontelandolfo News. http://www.pontelandolfonews.com/index.php?id=3357

A few days after the election I noticed new political posters going up. What in the hell is this? The election was over. They were giant thank you notes. Whether a ticket won or lost they thanked the voters. Now, how nice it that! Take heed American politicians there are lessons to be learned here.

Even though we lost we are considerate enough to say thank you!

People Vote for People – Politicking Pontelandolfo Style

May 31, 2013June 20, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Politics - Quirky Aside

I can’t really talk about politics without talking about the one guy who understood it best, made sure I understood it and got frustrated as hell when newbies to the process refused to listen. Good old “Johhny G”, my dad Giovanni Francesco Guerrera, was a politician in the grand style of former speaker of the House of Representatives – Tip O’Neill. “People vote for people.” “All politics are local!” Those are the clear cut salient facts that my dad foisted upon me at a tender age. Dad was one of the men who moved Hillsborough Township into the 2oth century. He was Mayor and on the Township Committee for numerous terms in the 60’s and 70’s. He was always involved in local, state and national campaigns – sending me to represent him once to a meeting in the Jimmy Carter Whitehouse – but that is another story. His passion for politics was learned at his daddy’s knee – Pontelandolfo’s Francesco Guerrera. My nonno, with other Italian immigrants, started Hillsborough’s Democratic Organization! Whoops – let’s get back to today and personal politics.

Dad's head shot for a State Senate Run. — Dad’s head shot for a State Senate Run.

Yeah, yeah, we all care about issues, platforms, programs etc. But the reality is, if you are my friend and I ask you to vote for me you will. Just like we buy candy from our friends kids to support organizations we don’t particularly agree with – for me it is the Boy Scouts. I hate the politics of the Boy Scouts but love the kids in my extended family who pound on my door in cub scout costumes – I mean uniforms selling candy. So ethics be damned, I buy the candy. See – people buy from people.

Daddy always said the way to win an election is like pyramid marketing – you get a core of folks who adore you for whatever reason – and get them to contact and pitch you to the friends who adore them for whatever reason. People respond to people.

National and domestic issues are important but how does that break down to me, my family and my home town? Now you get it – think local. Well, politics in Pontelandolfo is about as local centric as you can get. It is time for me to stop thinking about my larger than life political pappa and tell you about Pontelandolfo.

The candidates actually go from house to house and talk to people! How amazing! No robo calls here just house calls. That means you need a strong bladder, because at every house you have a caffè and conversation. What really amazed me is that people actually told you if they would vote for you or not! Having lived in Asbury Park, where if everyone who swore they voted for me really had I would have been Queen for a day, I was amazed that folks might actually deign to tell the truth. “Hey, you’re my pal and I love you but I don’t like the guy at the top of your ticket so – sorry no can do!” Remember from my earlier post, you vote for the Sindaco (mayor) and then write in one name from his ticket to be your choice for consigliere (council). Check out the sample ballot – put an X in the circle for the Sindaco and write in one name. ( I did discover later that some folks had indeed told a wee lie to my cousin and really didn’t vote for her – but that was an anomaly.)

Lots of cars in the piazza means lots of folks are gathering in shops and the bars (cafés).

What people were talking about in the bars and around the piazza were the local problems that the commune has. Some of these issues are indeed national – like there are no jobs for young people. Others are very local and personal. This is beautiful village and yet some folks are dumping their garbage and nothing is being done to clean it up. The elderly often can’t subsist on their incomes and something must be done to provide local support – or to petition the province for help. The local library was something I witnessed and heard “Rocomincio Da Te” candidates talk about. It needs books! It needs to be perked up and better utilized. Programs for young people are always an issue. Are sports enough? Should the commune increase arts based programs? Each list of candidates distributed their platforms and spoke about issues like these.

Technology is not totally ignored in this very personal approach to campaigning. Cars are outfitted with speakers and festooned with campaign posters. A pre-recorded “Vote for XXXXX,” and “Vote for the (insert name of ticket” could be heard blaring up and down the streets and barely streets of the country side. At first I was taken aback – whoa is that an obnoxious gelato truck? Well, there is no obnoxious gelato truck – what a gift that would be – but campaign aides rousing the voters. The second time I heard it I went out on our balcony to see which ticket it was. It was the one I was voting for so I waved and cheered. Does the spirit good to see your team out and about. Since Pontelandolfo has lots of small family farms and the families really are out working the fields and tending the animals, I could see the benefit of the mobile system. Where I couldn’t see it was in bigger cities – where the blaring through the busy streets was constant. If I lived in one I might be forced to wear earplugs or toss pomodori out the window. Jack and I followed one rolling billboard and blaring sound system for about 20 minutes in a town that shall remain nameless. Well – here see for yourself.

Collateral – Getting Out the Vote – Pontelandolfo Style!

May 25, 2013June 20, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Politics - Quirky Aside

Collateral (posters, yard signs, fliers and other printed stuff):

Tired of the blitz of campaign signs cluttering the highway? Starting in August, do you hate going to your mail box stuffed with political name calling, back biting and substance-less tirades? Then start spending election season in Pontelandolfo – of course it is not in November. There may be some whispering and cajoling but there is no crush of collateral. The placement of signage is regulated by the commune. I first discovered this in Florence when I was teaching an arts administration course. My students were doing some volunteer work for a theatre company. The goal was to place small posters in as many shops as possible because large posters placed throughout the city had to be approved by the city, a fee paid per poster and – this is the best part – a city employee hung the posters!

When the political posters went up in Pontelandolfo I was surprised to see them all neatly mounted on stone walls adjacent to each other. Each ticket was snugly posted next to another. The posters are large and placed in only a few spots around town. When I asked if the campaigns had to pay the commune, it was explained that political tickets don’t have to pay the posting tariff but the commune still approves the signs and hangs them. What is truly amazing is that except for color the signs all look the same! Ahhh a civil way to post those bills! We still get to look at the beauty that is Pontelandolfo and not political signs flapping in the breeze.

This is the official sample ballot posted in town.

Presentation_4 — Candidate for Consigliere, Giuseppina Mancini.

Let’s talk about campaign literature – how the hell can we possibly call the scurrilous crap that fills American mailboxes “literature”? Innuendoes coupled with pictures of politicians looking drunk, dead, demented. Glamour shots merged with tales of perseverance, family and patriotism. The only piece of campaign material that I saw was the Sindaco and List’s “programma” – their platform! That is right – shake your head in disbelief – an actual pamphlet that explained – not just 3 bullet points but explained – each plank. The “Programma Di Governo” of the ticket called “Ricomincio Da Te” included economics, jobs, environment, health, culture, education, police – well you get the point. They actually wrote in complete sentences about issues that really matter – none of this “lower taxes” generic bullshit that I hear in Hillsborough, NJ. This is my cousin Giusy Mancini’s ticket so we are prejudiced – openly and often. The platform was explained and the pamphlet handed out at an evening event in the village’s small theater. I’ll bet over 200 potential voters turned out to hear the candidates and “brava” their support of the platform. Note – the people had to come and pick up the collateral – no one was standing in front of the local grocery waving it at them.

The "Ricomincio Da Te" team just before the event. — The “Ricomincio Da Te” team just before the event.

The theater was absolutely packed – to the rafters really – well folks were hanging over the balcony. When we got there a bunch of men were standing outside looking – well just looking. It reminded me of the wild political days of the late 60’s when rooms were packed and the energy was high. People listened, clapped or not, cheered or not and PICKED UP the one piece of literature!

In the spirit of honesty – yes I do have an honest bone or two in my body. I must admit that in other towns in the area – much bigger cities – I did see not only more signs plastered on poles everywhere, but huge billboards on skinny trucks wending their way up cobblestone streets.

Pontelandolfo and Calcio – Perfect Together!

May 22, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

I have to admit, sports and I have never been “Purrrrfect Together”. In high school I went to football games and walked around flirting with boys – oh was there a game on? First down – hut – uggh. When I was a young teacher and recruiting boys to be in my musicals, I discovered that the boys who wrestled moved well and could be taught to dance, hence, I attended wrestling matches. OK – so for two periods of my life I “went to a game, match, meet.” Beyond that – niente, nada, nothing. Then I got to Italy and discovered Calcio Mania in Pontelandolfo.

My introduction to calcio was in 2002. Italia was in the World Cup! I pretended I knew what that was – had no clue. Here is what happened.

Part One:

It was a lazy afternoon in Pontelandolfo. I was sitting at the kitchen table in our apartment reading when suddenly the piazza became a cacophony of sound. The air was filled with screams, horns blaring, tears and sobs. Had terrorists bombed the Vatican? Were the beaches at Anzio breached? No, my husband calmly informed me. Italia had tied their last world cup game. That meant they were holding on to second place in their division. That couldn’t be it – second place couldn’t cause this chaos. I raced to the terrace to peer at the piazza.

A parade of almost every motorized vehicle in the village had instantaneously formed in the piazza. Horns of all pitches and rhythmes – the staccatto beep beep beep of the Ford Pronto – the tiny motorini bip bip – and the I must really live in Manhatten keep your hand pressed down on your blaring big horn whaaaaaa. A wee little boy is leaning out of the passenger window clinging to the pole supporting a full Italian flag as his father/brother roars in a circle around the fountain. Italian flags wave from almost every vehicle. A motorini whizzed by – a girl on the back with both arms raised to support the flag. It followed behind them like a Jersey shore promotional banner tailing a plane. One car has not one but four full size flags, bigger than the passengers hanging on to them, flying from each window. The cars continue to circle and circle. shrieks, screams, tears – eeks. What was it like when the allies landed? I don’t get the sports thing. Men in tight shorts touch each others butts and the homophobes think its ok. Adults visiting a foreign country paint themselves in their country’s team colors and raise angry fists in the air. Behavior considered pagan any other time becomes ritual allowable drama during high sports celebrations. The wails and beeps have been going on for 15 minutes now. When do you think they’ll get bored of and start reading a book or having caffe?

Part two:

I entered my cousins house to find 6 pre-teen girls clutching each other as they stared morosely at the television. The referees are obviously favoring Korea over Italia – home court advantage and all that. Tears and angry tirades filled the room. One girl with tears streaming down her face wailed from the depth of her soul. The chilling sound had to reach around the world to that evil World Cup referee. The match was still close.

Rain, like the tears of the young fans slowly glides over an empty field.

These were the emotions needed to move their team on. Oh, oh – time – they lost. I moved as far into the corner as I could because I didn’t know what emotions would erupt. Heart wrenching sobs erupted from another floor in the house and got closer as the resident 5 year old raced to find the comforting lap of his mother. His father and cousin were close behind. With anger plastered on their faces they stormed out of the house and headed out to the rural men only bar. The girls in the living room frozen in place did not speak. The wimpers and silent tears said everything.

Part Three:

Now that I have been introduced to the calcio world, I went to a local match on the villages’s impeccable playing field. Pontelandolfo plays in a five on five league, so the field is shorter. Makes it easier for the fans to surround the field and see every exciting moment. The enthusiasm is infectious. As you’ll see from the video, the upper promenade is packed with fans of all ages. It feels like the entire village has come together on the field of battle to press it’s warriors on. How could I not be part of that? How could I not connect with that passion? Between Nick Losardo and Jack Huber we have visuals of last weeks game. It ended in a tie!

Brava Real Five Pontelandolfo! http://www.realfivepontelandolfo.it/

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