Tag: Life in Italy

How I Spent My Summer Vacation by Ragazzi Iacovella

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Stops Along the Journey - Sites Off the Tourist Track

The days are getting shorter, the wind is whistling in the mountains – summer is over.  Annalaura, Gabriele and Alessio Iacovella looked at each other and said – what did we do this summer?

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A Rainy September Day – Let’s Talk About the Summer!

After a warm your chilly bones lunch of tortellini soup, roasted chicken, home made french fries, local mushrooms and more at Carmela’s kitchen, her grandchildren eleven year old Gabriele, 12 year old Annalaura and 8 year old Alessio sat me down and told me their summer story –

During the day we stayed with Nonna Carmela – she is a great cook!  At night we went to Casalduni.  Casalduni has – Parco Giochi.  (Their dad, Pasquale,  is Casalduni’s Sindaco – mayor.  The kids burst with pride about that.)

Casalduni

Parco Giochi has a garden, lake with fish, scivolo – slide,  gonfiabili – inflatable houses to jump in,  and campo per pallavolo – volleyball, bocce, small paddle boats –  we know lots of kids in Casalduni.  We had fun every night.

Allessio – a real charmer chimed in – Mi piace mar in Puglia!  I took a long trip to Puglia with my family. In the car we looked at the paesaggio – panorama –  and we saw the flowers, albero d’olvio – olive trees e gira sole – sun flowers .

Gabriele – I was a little bored in the car – the trip was long.

AnnaLaura – No it was short to Puglia – per andare in Calabria il viaggio è lungo.

Gabriele – Per me è lungo

Annalaura – We stayed at the Orchidea Blu Hotel. (http://www.orchideavillage.it/ – San Menaio, Vico del Gargano (Foggia) Puglia)

Orchieda Blue Hotel

We went to the pool every afternoon!

It had a pool, un animazione – clown – a person to play with us kids. On a typical day – we went to the beach in the morning and in the afternoon to the pool.  That way my mother didn’t have to worry about us so much.

What did you like the best?

Gabriele – Dolce- dolce ogni giorno.  We ate in the same restaurant in the hotel every day and I ate tanti dolci.

Besides eating dessert what did you do –

Gabriele – I went to the pool to swim.  With the animazione – played darts, calcio in the streets, pallanuoto – water polo and ping pong.  OK, OK giocare con l’animazione è più divertente di mangiare dolci.

Alessio – Ho giocato con i miei nuovi amici nel mare.

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Those are old people in that picture.  I played with my new friends Samuele, Fabrizio, Giusseppe, Niccolo e Raffele.  We built castles in the sand, swam, giocare a pallone – calcio and ….

Gabriele – Rodi Garganico – one night we went there too.  It was like Pontelandolfo with an ocean.

Rodi - city in Puglio

View from a piazza in Rodi Garganico

Annalaura – Tanti negozi e bancharelle – shops and stands.  The ancient buildings – beautiful.  We were sad to leave Puglia.

Alessio – But wait till we tell you about our other trip to Calabria –

It is September – how did you spend your summer vacation?

I hope you got to play calcio too.

I See My Father

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Finding My Family - Genealogy, Practical Matters - Living Abroad
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Dominico Manna has my father’s eyes.

The other morning I was startled when my father’s eyes peered into mine.  He hadn’t made an appearance since my sighting of him in Belize.  That day he arrived in a big old Chrysler – driving right up the beach – got out of the car and looked up at me sitting on the balcony staring at the sea.

Dad's head shot for a State Senate Run.

He did that John Wayne gun shot with your pointer finger thing and told me to stop being a wimp and to get on the f’n plane.

Did I mention that he had been dead for three years?

Cripes, I thought, what had I done to have him stare me down in a public place – Bar Elimar in Pontelandolfo?  I gulped and pulled my eyes away to see if the image stayed.  It stayed. The face was smiling – it wasn’t my father’s face. But the eyes – they were his eyes.  My woo woo moment had kinda’ sorta’ passed. My cousin Dominico peered down at me.  Rats, those are my father’s eyes.  I just met Dominico Manna a week or so ago, but when my dad’s eyes looked back at me I felt like I’ve known this newly found cousin my whole life.  Dominico is my father’s second cousin just like my Guerrera cousins back in the USA – that makes him my third cousin or second cousin twice removes or…. Well it doesn’t really matter.  He has my father’s eyes.

Part of my fantasy living in Pontelandolfo for 6 months – besides writing a best selling memoir – HA – was uncovering more cousins.  Our family tree is full of all of the names that mark homes all over Pontelandolfo – Guerrera, Rinaldi, Fusco, Perugini, Mancini etc. etc. etc.  When I look at the family tree, I start thinking that I have at least one blood cell of every single person that I pass on the streets.

Every time I actually find someone with a clear direct link to my nonna and nonno, I get smacked in the face again with how much we are all alike.  What was that Haley Mills TV show about the cousins who looked so much alike they could pass for one another?  My USA family – starting with my incredibly talented sister and niece and branching out to second and third cousins – is full or actors, dancers, writers, photographers, artists and those who love the arts.

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Hand Crafted by my cousin Carmella in Pontelandolfo!

Imagine my joy to discover that generations of our blood line here have danced in the towns international touring folklorico dance company, are incredible photographers, writers, visual artists etc.  Others, like me, are arts administrator types and help organize the towns events. Damn that artistic DNA!

I always remember my grandmother, Uncle Sal and Aunt Cat working their Flagtown land. Grandma taught me how to kill and pluck a chicken for dinner. Many here farm their land to produce incredibly tasting meats and vegetables. Gifts of home made cheeses and meats have graced my door.

We have family all over the world – the ones I know about are in
Argentina, Montreal, England, Spain and I can’t remember.  Jack and I will have to definitely take a trip to Argentina.

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Our family members, when the village could no longer support them, took the risk and re-established themselves beyond the borders of Italy. Even though we had never met, live miles apart and in some cases don’t even know that parts of our blood line intersect we are the same. Hell I know this sounds like woo woo but maybe there is something about this DNA stuff.

Every market day, if I stay in one place I am sure to see more of my family. Sometimes I haven’t a clue what they are saying to me but it doesn’t matter. Other times they clearly share what is bothering them, who is driving them crazy or why today is an absolutely fabulous day. The connection that comes from sharing secrets makes me feel like I have been here my whole life. In reality I discovered this family of Pontelondolfesi a scant 18 years ago. 18 years of returning to the village of my grandparents has forged incredible bonds.

I have finally decided that this is where I want to live – it may be 6 months a year or full time. It was seeing my father’s eyes that put me over the decision making edge. Daddy visiting me through Dominico and telling me once again not to be chicken shit – life is too short.

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When we get back to NJ the house will go on the market. Anyone want a farm house with a bocce court and mulberry trees?

 

 

Zucchine Sono Arrivate! Ricetta 2

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Food - Eating In and Out!
The zucchine elf - Zia Vittoria!
The zucchine elf – Zia Vittoria!

 

Everyday it seems there is a mysterious bag, basket or pile of zucchini (zucchine in Italian) by my door.  These things must multiply like…..   Wait – you already heard this!  Remember recipe 1!

Thank you subscriber Karen T. for reminding me about the vegetarian lasagna of my earlier life.  Le zucchine, grilled, becomes the best lasagna noodle. I don’t have a griddle – only a big frying pan.  First step slice the zucchine long ways – of course I ignore all the safety cutting rules I learned in 4-H and to make the thin slice pull that knife right towards my chest – don’t do that.

Tossed some of our heavenly local EVOO in the frying pan and after what felt like I had been standing on my feet for hours – enough were done.

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Since the oil was still hot I sliced up due melanzane – egg plant – and did those too. Note that I did them after I did the zucchine. Jack lumps eggplant with tofu as the two things that give him the food creeps.  God forbid una melanzana touch the zucchine!

For filling I dumped 500 grams of ricotta in a bowl, tossed in a egg, a bunch of grated parmesan, splash of pepper, fresh basil and oregano.  Stirred it up and called it art.

Stupidly, I had oiled my baking dish, then looked at the zucchine which had been essentially slathered in oil, grabbed a paper towel and wiped out the dish. Next, I laid down a layer of zucchine and with panache glopped and spread the ricotta mixture.

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My burnt fingers reminded me that  I had just roasted red peppers and had an ah ha moment.

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I added a layer of red pepper for color.  OK, time for a layer of mozzarella – shit we don’t have any.  Some days you win and some days you just have fun.

Creative a pinch of this and dash of that cooks use what they have.  I had great local cheese – cows milk integrated with hot peppers.

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Remembering that it melted well on a panino, I grated it up.  Tossed it on top of the red peppers and then added a second layer of zucchine slices.

Followed that with the requisite ricotta mixture and thought – I need another red layer to artistically balance the red peppers.  Hey, we bought super Spanish salame at the salumeria – I don’t think it was from Spain but they call it Spanish. The salame is crusted in black pepper.  OK, so this isn’t a vegetarian dish – but you don’t have to use salame.

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A layer of that, more ricotta, grated cheese and then – shit – I don’t have enough zucchine for a complete top layer. How could that be, I have bushels of zucchine?  Oh, yeah, I got tired of standing by the frying pan.

Thinking quickly, I eyed the eggplant, if I put some in the middle and cut Jack’s slice from the edge would he know that his precious zucchine might have egg plant kooties?  I just won’t mention it and use tons of grated cheese on top to disguise the critters.

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Rats, can see the eggplant – but will Jack?

Applause! Buon appetito, Jack. (Wink, Wink)

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Rocco

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

Sometimes we run into people who change our lives. Rocco is one of those people. I met him last year in Bar Elimar. I was typing away on my computer and he was staring at me. I said buon giorno. He slid over to my table stared right into my eyes and said, Come ti chiama? Midge I answered. Come ti chiama he repeated. I figured Midge didn’t sound very Italian and he couldn’t get it. Midge I repeated. He smiled, put his fingers on my computer keyboard and said, Come ti chiama. That was when I realized just how special Rocco was.

Feeling like a trickster I looked at him and said, Io sono Midge ma come ti chiama? Rocco he said and smiled. From that moment we became fast friends.

He was about eight years old that summer and sometimes I thought his mom planned their excursions to Bar Elimar when I might be there. Rocco’s family is part of the Bar Elimar family. His mom is bar owner Elio’s sister.

I set some games up on my computer and iPad and loved sipping my cafe and watching the joyful expressions on Rocco’s face as he drew a picture on my iPad or played scopa – laughing as the cards were swept away by the computer.

He still said, come ti chiama every time he saw me until I realized that it was his own little game. Lots of folks got swept away in it repeating their names until they wanted to scream. The minute I flipped it back on him he knew I understood him. When I responded, my name is Rocco – he giggled and knew I really got him.

This spring, I kept waiting for Rocco to show up. Forgetting that school was in session, I couldn’t understand why I didn’t see him in the morning. Finally, in June my mornings with Rocco started again – just not as often as I would have liked. He told me he had his own tablet that had games on it. He stopped saying come ti chiamo because I always answered Rocco. One day he said, ciao Midge and I was smitten.

They don’t have special education programs here and Rocco has been getting better and better in school and socially because of his parents and family. They get him help, but treat him just like everyone else. Rocco challenged me to find ways to communicate with him and that has helped me communicate with not only the kids of Ponteladolfo but their elders too.

Today, I heard that Rocco inadvertently swallowed acid and is in a medically induced coma in a Naples’ hospital.  Rocco thought he was slugggin back juice. His aunt said he never cried. Not once. He is incredibly strong. His throat burned and swollen, he was rushed to the hospital in Benevento where they did nothing for hours. His frantic parents had him rushed to Naples. Lesson here is avoid the hospital in Benevento.

At the Naples Hospital they put him in a medically induced coma with a breathing tube. Because there is so much damage to his throat they can’t send a scope down to see what else is wrong. I don’t pray much but today I pray for Rocco.

Festa Di San Donato – Pre Show

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Stops Along the Journey - Sites Off the Tourist Track

Pontelandolfo’s major festa is TOMORROW!  The Festa di San Donato is the cornerstone of our little town’s tourism drive.  July 31 is the kick off and we will all be exhausted when the festa is over on August 7th.  The finale is a concert with a headliner act and fireworks. The week long event has historically brought tourists and an infusion of cash into the town.  I’m told that years past, buses of American tourists searching for their roots would roll in. The oldest church would be open – not with vendors but with artisans and purveyors of local wines and food products. This year, no one that I’ve asked as been able to tell me if that is happening. I’ve only been in the ancient church once, many years ago and would love to see the inside again.

My favorite Pontelandolfo web-site, Pontelandolfo News, has a story on the church and the man.  Practice you Italian and check it out http://www.pontelandolfonews.com/index.php?id=230.

This is a religious festival but I can’t find a thing on any poster or web-site about when there is a mass or the procession.  As a matter of fact, the town web-site doesn’t even list the churches.  How could that be?

I’m thinking that as much as I love this town, it is hard to attract tourists looking to “see something” – you know to check it off their list.  Like the millions do that race through the museums in Florence and take a selfie with David.  Due to lack of funds – everyone blames “i crisi” – the small local museum is closed. The library is closed.  And listen to this travesty – years ago, one mayor sold the commune’s one major historic attraction – La Torre – for hardly any money to some out of towner. Now that is closed to tourists and it’s secret garden  – well no one knows because you can’t get to it – but I’m betting weeds.  The tower is the iconic image of the town.  Good old Prince Landolfi probably lived there.  Now, no one sees it.  Uggg

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Our famous tower – a vacation home for some out of towner who is never here. Want to see if we can buy it?

This year, it looks like the town is prettying itself up for the week. I noticed men chopping down the weeds along the side of roads, the cement ditches are being cleaned.

Thank you to all who are working so hard!
Thank you to all who are working so hard!

Normally every morning men clean the streets and the piazzas but  this week I sensed a new bounce in their steps.

Every cobblestone is solid thanks to this man. No tripping in our town!
Every cobblestone is solid thanks to this man. No tripping in our town!

There was a crew in front of Bar Mix Fantasy sculpting shrubs. I noticed new plants set up around the out door tables at Nonsolo Pizza. The portable tables and chairs are stacked by all the bars. The sun is shining and all hope it will shine from July 31 through August 7.

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Tomorrow, happy revelers will be sitting at tables!

The other night we drove to Circello – a village about 30 minutes away and saw posters for the headlining acts plastered on walls. Every night of the celebration of San Donato there is something.  (Could any of you good Catholics out there tell me what he is the special saint for?  I spent an hour searching and couldn’t find anything related to this part of the world.  One of the elders said that he was instrumental in stopping the plague here but that is all I got.)  Here is this year’s line up. IMG_1752 IMG_1753 Tourists are already trickling in.  Yesterday, I was standing at a bar having a caffè when a woman speaking the ancient dialect of the village – the first clue that it is an out of towner who had elders from here – picked up a candy and asked me if it had sugar.  She couldn’t read the Italian.  I asked her in English if she was American.  She said, oh you don’t speak Italian.  I responded in Italian that one candy didn’t have sugar and could I read the other. Are you proud of me?  She and her husband were from Buenos Aires, Argentina.  A good number of Pontelandolfesi immigrated to Argentina.

Today is Wednesday – market day – and I noticed a good number of folks I hadn’t seen before.  One visitor, who was driving and staring at the vendors ran smack into a parked truck.  Ooops!  I’m told that many people come during festa time to visit their relatives.  Not a bad idea!  I tried to convince mine to come but didn’t have any takers.

With help from the producers and production companies that are providing the shows, Pontelandolfo is really trying to promote the events.  Last  Monday, July 28th, as part of the television program “UNOMATTINA Summer” on Raiuno the hosts  interviewed the artistic director of the Award program “Hugh Gregory – Landulf d’Oro” (scheduled for July 31) and “Comicron”, the first international festival of short comedic films scheduled on August 4 and 5. That my friends, brings this year’s festa national attention.  I’m hoping tons of people come and all of the businesses make a little extra money.

In this time of economic struggling, I kept asking folks who the hell was paying for all this.  Everyone said, we are!  I didn’t quite get it until two business owners explained it to me.  A committee went door to door asking every citizen for a donation.  Hey, as I used to tell my Arts Management students, it doesn’t hurt to ask.  Folks are so proud of the festa that the majority gave what they could and were rewarded with a flier that listed the events.  To be a sponsor and hang a banner cost about €200 per business. In other years, I’m told, it cost €500.  Bottom line, everyone contributed to the best of their ability.

Putting the finishing touches on the huge stage.
Putting the finishing touches on the huge stage.

I’m excited to see and hear everything that will be going on.  Of course nothing starts before 9:30 PM so a nap is important.  Keep your eyes peeled because everyday, unless the late night partying is just too much for me, I’ll write a post about the event of the day.  Please, please send me energy so I can send you stories!

If you can’t make it to Pontelandolfo, but can get to Connecticut, why not check out the next best thing San Donato Festival in the USA – Waterbury Connecticut  http://www.ponteclub.com/festa-di-san-donato-2013/

See you at the Festa!

Nonna Was In The Field

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Finding My Family - Genealogy

My woo woo pals will not even blink when I say that at 7:00 AM the other morning I bumped onto my grandma.  She died when I was 16 but I remember her vividly – it was her.

Grandma

Wearing the same kind of caftan I had on when I first saw Ruth St Denis, whoops that’s the mom of modern dance and she has nothing to do with this story. It’s just the magic of the caftan. So wearing this old tied died caftan, I was walking in The field across the street from my house carrying a plate of apricot peels. As I started to toss the peels into the field –  there she was.  Smiling because I hadn’t been lazy and walked way out onto the field just like she taught me.

Whew, where did that memory come from – why was she here now?  When I was a wee thing we had pasta at grandmas house every Sunday. After the locusts in my family had managed to eat everything but the mopeen – dish rag we all used to wipe our saucy fingers on –  it was often my job to take the pile of bones and other table scraps out to the field. The instruction was walk far and toss. Sometimes a lazy kid would just dump the plate at the edge of the lawn. ( Jack screams at me now because I’ve turned into a lazy kid and dump on our Flagtown lawn line.)

This was a no no and would draw rats close to the house. We didn’t have a fancy compost pile or Eco box. We had the field. Foxes loved the bones and they were soon gone. The egg shells and the veggie scraps were great for revitalizing the earth. Now 60 years later, here I am in the place where my nonna learned that doing a field dump wasn’t a trailer trash thing. It was simply keeping the cycle of growth happening.

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That morning I was doing something I know she had done. The field was a recently shorn hayfield. The feral cats and foxes still eat any meat stuff and the rest just rots back into the soil. Maybe next year this field would be a potato patch – enriched by or simple veggie scraps.

What struck me was how the simple action of tossing apricots peels brought my nonna back to me.  She was there making sure I walked out far enough and did the job right.  This had a colossal impact on me.  After a year long painful inner dialogue about selling our house in NJ, it was this moment in a field that nonna made me realize that I could.  The farmhouse was my grandma’s and is the place where I feel the presence of my elders everyday. Nonna let me know that wherever I am they are and all is OK.

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Grandma and Aunt Cat are always there for me.

Grazie tante.

The “New” Fountain!

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Food - Eating In and Out!

When my nonna told stories about life in Pontelandolfo she often mentioned the fountains.  There is a massive one in the main piazza but there are others scattered among the hills.  Some of these fountains date back to Roman times. These fountains were a hub for gossip, doing laundry, getting a quick drink on a hot day and gathering water to drink, cook with and wash in.  For generations, mountain spring water has run through ancient pipes and spurted out into jugs that were carried home.

The fountains still exist – but there is a new kid in town! This year when we drove into the center of Pontelandolfo we noticed this big stainless steel box – Acquaself – and a bunch of people  hanging around with plastic bottles.  Holy smokes – they are getting water!  It costs only €.05 a liter for spring water – sparkling or plain.  Oh no, I thought, yet another rural ritual blown out of the water.

Years ago, Jack joined Mario Mancini and went up into the mountains to one of five or six ancient fountains.  Mario, a foodie and mountain gatherer, knew where to take his bottles to get the best tasting water.  They drove miles away from the village center and what did they find – other men filing bottles.  Jack was flabbergasted when one of the men turned to him and said in English – where are you from – “New Jersey” – “Me too – Livingston”!  That is the magic that happens around the fountain.

The Pontelandolfo main fountain has been a meeting place, photo op and life blood of the community.  In the summer kids fill water balloons from the constantly flowing spring water.  When that happens I run in the other direction – cross fire can be pretty wet. Can Acauself – a stainless steel box – really replace all that?  Interesting question.  I’ve gone for our water – I mean .05 for a litter of sparkling water – and chatted with folks who were filling their bottles.  Maybe the conversation will continue at the box but I can’t see anyone doing their laundry. The talented Annalaura Iacovella will explain how Acquaself works – so those of you who speak Italian can test your skills – those of you who don’t can read the titles.  Happy mineral water to you.

 

Storms Silence This Yapper

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Practical Matters - Living Abroad

Shout out to subscriber Kathy H. who said “I feel a blog about being silenced is in your future.”  Now, Kathy knows I love to chat.  We  Facetime, Viber or Magic Jack call each other a lot.  What do we talk about?  I haven’t a clue, but for about a week the chatting  stopped.

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Run Dorothy Run!

On those chatless days we were plagued with thunder, lighting, whooshing rain and turn  your umbrella inside out wind.  The internet went kaput. No Internet no chatting.

What? No Magic Jack or Viber?
What? No Magic Jack or Viber?

Suddenly I was silenced!

 Yeah, yeah I know – I could still e-mail from my smart phone but it ain’t the same as voice to voice chatting.  For one whole week I couldn’t verbally reach out to family and friends in the USA. WHAT!

It was a great opportunity to read books, sit in the caffè and gossip and maybe even play at writing something.  It also made me realize that my blabbing about our great cheap ways to communicate with folks in other parts of the globe needed a revision.  Here in the hills we have one communication tragic flaw – storms knock out the internet.

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Our internet is provided through an antennae on our house and a signal sent from an even bigger antennae somewhere in the hills.  When the wind is whoooooooooossssshhhhhhhing the signal starts swirling and may be providing internet to Saturn.

NO INTERNET

(Read – https://nonnasmulberrytree.com/2013/09/27/internet-cant-…ome-without-it/ ‎)

No internet means NO Magic Jack.

(Read – https://nonnasmulberrytree.com/2013/07/16/land-line-phone-no-voip-yes/)

No internet means NO Facetime or Skype

(Read – https://nonnasmulberrytree.com/2013/06/05/talking-for-fr…ound-the-world/)

How does one overcome this dilemma?  First, make sure you have a good cellular telephone provider.  We use WIND and pay ten Euro a month for 200 minutes of calls, 200 texts and UNLIMITED data.  Second, make sure you have a phone that can become a wi-fi hotspot.  I have an iPhone 4s that works well as a hotspot.

I will caution you, there were times when the storms also limited our ability to use our cell phones but not often.

To make quick calls to the USA – really quick because the more you use the unlimited data the slower it becomes – I would turn the cell phone into a hot spot and call through my iPad or Macbook Air.  Apple doesn’t send me dime for saying what I’m about to say (though I would gladly accept the latest iPhone.)  Apple products all work incredibly well together.  

I’ve installed Viber and Skype on my iPad.  Facetime comes with the iPad and Macbook.  Magic Jack also now has an application for smart phones a well as your computer.  Our New Jersey phone number is our Magic Jack number so folks can easily call us and/or leave a message. (Though I wish telemarkerters would stop calling at 6:00 PM Eastern Standard Time which is MIDNIGHT here.)

Bottom line – I may not be able to sip Campari Soda and talk about nothing with pals in America for an hour but thanks to a good cellular provider and the hotspot on my iPhone we can still get our words out.

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Thanks Apple for Facetime.