August 2nd was Day Two of Contest Musica Live and day three of the Festa. At 9:00 PM – dressed to the nines and with my party attitude on – I left Jack snoring on the couch and forcing myself to put one tired foot in front of the other drove down to the piazza. Gulp, I was going to a concert alone. Who would I talk to, where would I sit, would I know anyone there? The questions I just typed may have floated through my insecure 16 year old brain but the 65 year old knew that I would talk to everyone, sit where I wanted and – hey this is Pontelandolfo – I would know folks.
The first hint that less folks might be coming to this amateur event was the lack of vendors. Many of the previous nights venders were somewhere else. No one was selling shoes and there were fewer food trucks. H’mm I got a parking space really close too. This didn’t bode well for lots of people coming
Wow, somebody noticed that the stage didn’t look so professional for the first day of the talent contest or else they hired a different company for Day Two. The set up was much more professional looking. There were blacks up stage – black curtains across the back of the stage and a different light set up. Jack said how do I know these things – I just know OK. You’ll see on the video.
The pre show started at 9:50 – a lot earlier than the day before and almost on time! (The show was scheduled to start at 9:30 PM.) The MC – who over the week I began to loathe more and more – did his usual warmup. When the first group came on stage, folks started pouring into the piazza – not thousands but a healthy crowd. The opening act was a fabulous singer and band from Pontelandofo! That explained the enthusiastic crowd. I also discovered that the day before many of our talented young folks were performing out of town with our dance company, hence, could not be bopping and rocking in the piazza. They made sure to be back for our home town singer, Eleonora Di Marzo! She was terrific and so was the lighting. From smoke spurts to strobes it was much better rock lighting than the night before.
Bar Mixed Fantasy had tables set up that gave a great view of the stage – I bought my Campari soda, grabbed a table and started dancing in my seat. As more folks came, I chatted, rocked and rolled and throughly enjoyed the music, booze, friends and summer night. I am not a music critic but can easily say that the bands the second night were a hell of a lot better than the bands we heard the first night. They excuse Jack had given for not wanting to come – before he drifted to dreamland – was the bands were beh the first night, why should we go and listen to mediocre music. Because it is FESTA WEEK and it is our responsibility to go and support the festa. OK, I want to go because it is always one hell of a party.
Unfortunately, my videos of the later bands had lousy sound quality. So you will only hear our local favorite BUT note the clips of the accordion player – his group was amazing doing Neapolitan classics – too bad my camera recorded the conversation of the folks next to me. UGGGG
Finally – the story you may or may not have been waiting for – the funeral traditions of my Italian home town. A shout out on this topic to Art Adair of Somerville’s New Cemetery, Jimmy Cusick of Cusick’s Funeral Home and Mayann Carroll, former ace lobbyist for the Funeral Director’s Association. Sorry that this particular blog was usurped earlier by my finding my great grand daddy’s bones and turning into a pile of weepy. (https://nonnasmulberrytree.com/2014/06/06/finding-my-great-grandfather/)
This morning when I got up there was a line of cars outside our house. (Thats a lie, it’s been a week since this happened but I didn’t want to mess with the story.) I mentioned the cars to Jack and he said they had been there late last night too. An all night bash and we weren’t invited? Of course we are usually asleep by 10:00. Our house is really close to the cemetery but it has a parking lot and this car line started further up the hill. H’mmm.
Our neighbor and friend, Nicola Ciarlo, stopped over for caffè. Nosey Jack asked why Nicola wasn’t working. “There’s a funeral, he said, don’t you see the cars?” What cars, I said? (Hey I’m not the nosey one.) Looking at me like I had Campari for breakfast, Nicola said, “The ones on the road by the house?” Oh those cars. Why are they here? “People are visiting the family.” We do that in the New Jersey too. “With the body?” he asked. I retorted, The real body – the dead body?
According to Nicola, here in Pontelandolfo they bring the coffin to the house, arrange the body in the bedroom or another room and everyone comes to the house to pay their respects. People bring food and many kiss the dead person goodbye. (Try bringing food to a NJ funeral parlor – I’ve gotten my hand slapped trying that one – right Jimmy.)
The family stays up all night with the corpse. My first response was YUCK will I ever use that room again. Then, thinking about it, the idea resonated with me and actually sounds more civilized than schlepping the corpse from a drawer in the morgue to the paid company’s home. (Sorry Jimmy, your funeral parlor often feels like my home away from home.) They don’t have funeral parlors in Ponteladolfo – they have funeral facilitators. So unless you want to cart the body to – well I don’t know to where – you have to use your own parlor. H’mm that could be a lot of work. I mean, how long is the body in the house — I’m thinking three visitation days – two hours in the afternoon and two or three in the evening – or something like that. “Oh”, Nicola said, “its only 24 hours then the funeral at the church and burial. People visit most of that time.”
I was blessed to be present when my dad died and moments after my precious Aunt Cat died. During that period of time, I could feel the force of their spirits leaving. It wasn’t ugly or scary – it was an opportunity to share yet another moment with someone you loved. So maybe taking the process one step further and having your loved one pass on from their home isn’t’ so bad. Years ago that was the American tradition too.
I only saw the sign for one “organizzazione funerali a Pontelandolfo” – notice it is not a “home or parlor.” The company, Agenzia Funebre Diglio, located on Piano della Croce, 8 – 82027 – Pontelandolfo, BN, organizes funerals. They do not embalm! Bodies here are not embalmed. I’m thinking the NJ Funeral Directors lobby would have a hissy fit if folks started screaming for our laws to change and bodies in their natural state were allowed to be viewed for 24 hours and interred.
My Italian is not the best so I may have misunderstood some of Nicola’s nuances but research and Jack’s memory of his Italian teacher saying the same thing confirms what follows – sort of. Here you only lease a spot for a coffin. If you have a lot of money you build a zinc box like thing and your coffin rests on a cement pad. You then have thirty years to decompose peacefully. If you have less money your coffin is partially buried in the dirt and you have a small shell of an exterior box. You get ten years of a cozy spot.
After thirty years – or ten – the body is exhumed, bones are cleaned and put in a small box. Often, there is another ceremony for the bones. The bones are then placed in a smaller spot on one of the long walls of marble. Poor folks who don’t have family drawers on the wall are placed in the basement of the cemetery chapel. Those of you who read my last post, heard that story.
People of means have little private burial houses – what do we call those – memorials? (If you know what these things are called leave a comment.) The family’s remains can stay in the coffin in a place permanently or be removed later to make space for younger relatives, their bones placed in a glass box and put to rest in a smaller spot.
The people here visit their deceased family often. I see families come bringing new flowers weekly. There is a real connection to the past.
This exhumation and re-burial in a smaller spot is far from barbaric. It is done with love and a understanding of the cycle of life. The mountain’s rocky soil makes interment difficult. Usable land is farmed to bring food and income to the residents. The re-interment of remains has been going on for hundreds of years – think of all the bones found in ancient church lower basements- catacombs. More important than the burial process is the honor that is given to the dead – ongoing by even the younger generations.
After Nicola patiently explained all that to me, I decided to walk down the hill and see the funeral precession for our neighbor. I chose to watch from the great patio at Bar Mixed Fantasy. Whew, I got here just in time to watch the lead flower car slowly move up the hill to the old church. The hearse followed and following the hearse, just like in every old movie of an Italian funeral, people from the village slowly marched up the hill too. Wait a second – the person dies, is laid out at home and within hours folks are visiting, bringing food and clearing their calendars for the next day’s funeral. How does the news spread that fast? One of the services provided by the Funeral Agency is the immediate printing and posting of the large death notices.
The first time I came to Pontelandolfo – years ago – I saw plastered on the wall a death notice for Giovanni Guerrera. It was a little freaky since I had spoken to my dad the day before and he was fine. The death notices are either simple or adorned with art. Within hours of the persons passing the notices are posted on the villages walls and posted at the cemetery.
Ok, back to my glass of succo d’arancia rossa and the procession. I will admit I wanted to take pictures but I thought that it would be incredibly tacky. It was a very quiet and somber movement towards the church. OK,OK, I snuck one picture of the flower car. (This is for Cusick’s Funeral Home.)
After the mass, the procession moved slowly down the hill to the piazza and on towards the cemetery. Where the loved one will be interred undisturbed until the lease runs out and they are moved to their final resting place surrounded by those that loved them.
The title grab your dirty little minds? Sorry Charlies this is a story about – well not what you think.
Traveling is always a tiresome adventure. Though I am never sure why sitting in a plane for 7 hours; then racing through terminals for a connecting flight; then sitting on the tarmac longer than the next 45 minute leg of the journey; then waiting because the baggage didn’t show up; then cramming in a small car with luggage piled on top of me should be tiring. But hey it is.
So what is the first thing I do to decompress? Here’s a hint, I learned this from my father. Those who know me, know that the first place to go to decompress and get rejuvenated is the local watering hole. Even better is to go to the local watering hole with a local.
Our ace translator, information maven and all around great pal, Annarita Mancini, accompanied us to Bar Mixed Fantasy. Giuseppe, “Peppe”, Natale and his wife Antonella Lombardi are the owners of this local hot spot. Open from morning till – well morning, Bar Mixed Fantasy is one of the bars that locals use as a home away from home. Pontelandolfo has three bars and it seems like folks rotate between them but also have their favorite. Annarita tells us that young adults meet at Bar Mixed Fantasy before going out to dinner and discos. They often say they are just meeting for one drink but end up staying for a couple of hours. Why? Peppe and Antonella have great personalities and the thirty-somethings feel like they are hanging out with a neighbor – oh, they are. Another youngun told me, ” Peppe acts like one our friends and treats us like family.”
We ordered our beverages of choice – no caffè for this crew – and sat in the bar’s back room. (When I was but a wee thing, I remember sitting in the back room of Farley’s Tavern in Flagtown. Now back rooms are as extinct as dinosaurs.)
Bar Mixed Fantasy has a large covered outdoor space, a tiny two table bar area and good sized back room. Customers sidle up to the bar and order. You can stand and slug back your coffee or take it to a table. Peppe and his crew will also carry your stuff to a table for you. Remember, there is no tipping here. We’ve left 50 centesimi on the bar only to have someone race it back to our table. I gotta say that is a hard lesson to learn. We often start to tip and have a relative slap our hands and toss our money back at us.
H’mmm an Italian beverage in an Italian bar. Heaven! Peppe logged his wi-fi magic code into my iPad, we kicked back, checked e-mail and forgot about nasty TSA dudes, lost luggage and well just about everything. Papà was right – head to Farley’s Tavern – I mean the local watering hole.
This local joint is not just the requisite caffè/bar. Karaoke nights bring in crowds to the comfortable back room – which also serves as a rosticceria/spaghetteria. Antonella takes reservations for lunches “fatto in casa.” Spaghetteria e cucina con piatti tipici locali. Think having lunch at your sister’s – if your sister was a great cook. Alina Natale, Antonella’s daughter, when she is not dancing helps out. Alina dances with the local folklorico company and studies classical dance. This trip a visit Antonella’s spaghetteria is on my hot to do list.
Become their friend on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/giuseppepaparazzo/
Suddenly shouts fill the air. Shit why are folks screaming? Oh yeah, a bunch of guys are sitting around outside playing cards. Playing cards is a very vocal sport.
After kicking around a ball – calcio is in their blood- little kids showed up for gelato. Francesco Natale, the mini Peppe, was one of them. This cute fellow has a huge smile and incredible larger than life personality. He can often be found playing calcio with the other village kids or sitting at a table playing scopa. Bar Mixed Fantasy appeals to patrons of all ages.
What did I have? Campari Soda! Senza ghiaccio – neat. Ah, I feel my blood flowing already.