Some things you don’t take photos of. They are too real and hit a visceral button that brings on roll after roll of images.
This Tiny old brown and black birdlike woman with legs as thin as twigs was prancing down the promenade. her arms swinging, the flower print scarf hiding her hair. Balancing on her head – no a part of her – was a white plastic bag of groceries.
I cry. It has been years since my grandmother walked into her house from the yard with a basket of clothes on her head. Thats whose face I saw – Grandma – my nonna – the rock of my childhood.
Why today? What makes today different? Is it because we are leaving Pontelandolfo tomorrow?
The women were total opposites. This woman was tiny, thin and probably only 15 years older than I. The only thing she had in common with my grandma was the ability to balance.
Balance – how does one balance living half a year in one world and half in another? Tomorrow morning, October 28, we will be heading back to the USA. The six months in Italy flew by. I am so grounded here that I hate to leave. This morning I made the rounds saying “Ci vediamo aprile” to so many people. They all ask the same question – why do you leave? I don’t really have a good answer.
Balance – I must remain connected to both worlds – no matter where I sleep that night.
This is not a rant. I am not in a foul and ugly mood. It is just that after a while I can no longer hold my tongue. Some things in Italy annoy me.
Kids and Cars –
Everyone out there who is as old as I am can remember the fun filled roll around in the back seat time before mandatory seat belts. Clean it up, I’m talking about being a kid and not buckled into your assigned third of the seat. As toddlers we would stand on the back seat of the car peering out the back window, sticking our tongues out at the drivers behind us. Or hanging out the side window and giving trucks the arm pull down signal for tooting their big horn – then getting yelled out for sticking our heads out. When you were about 4,can you remember sitting on your dad’s lap and “driving the car” ? How about those fun filled times riding in the back of the pick up truck. Sitting on the edge of the truck bed and balancing as the wind whipped your face. Then there was the piece of plywood my father had cut to fit the back seat of the car that my mom tossed pillows on. it was an instant bed for long drives. So what if the car flipped and we flopped around. Somehow we all survived and made it to – well whatever age we are. Then someone started keeping data on folks killed in cars. A lot of them and many because they weren’t buckled in. Safety first! Seat belts save lives! Well, where car safety is concerned, here in Southern Italy it is kind of like 1955 . I see toddlers standing on front seats – wheeee – you can really see out the window. Now, not all parents do that – I have seen kids buckled up for safety. Frankly though, I see more standing on seats and hardly ever see a car seat. Someone lovingly holds all the wee ones. The absolute worse thing I saw was in Puglia – a helmetless tiny tyke on the back of a giant motor cycle clutching dad’s shirt as they sped through town. Jack pointed out the kid was smiling and I was the only one having a hissy-fit. Apparently, according to Jack, I am often the only one having a hissy-fit. Is this car riding freedom a good thing or a not so good thing? You decide.
You Can Dress Them Up But You Can’t Shut Them Up –
This is the second year that Comicron, the fabulous international comic short film festival was staged in Piazza Roma. Artisitic Director, Ugo Gregoretti spent his younger days summering in Pontelandolfo. It is a classy event, from the red carpet, the film stars attending, the beautifully appointed stage, to the well dressed folks sitting in the cordoned off area. We got there a tad late and sat in the back behind the incredibly well dressed Antonetta. She had on a fabulous long silky blue gown and dingle dangle sparkly jewelry. How did I know her name was Antonetta? Her pals got there later than we did and during a film bellowed ANTONETTA. She leaped from her seat and five dapperly dressed donne chatted in the aisle next to us. My evil eye and shushing had no effect. Of course the young ushers also occiasionaly chit chatted in the aisle. Jack said I am the only one it bothers and I should get over it – do you sense a “get over it” theme here? This is not the only time chatty chicks bothered the hell out of me. The first time I got so insensed I asked them to be quiet – the performers deserved respect. Who were the performers? Primary school kids! The moms in the audience felt compelled to share their shopping lists, lover’s names and whatever was on their minds throughout the performance. The only time they were quiet was when they were snapping pictures of their own kid on stage. Che fa! Is freedom of speech whenever and wherever you want to talk a good thing or a not so good thing? You decide.
What Time Does It Start?
The producer/director in me gnashes teeth and is ready to kill when the advertised time of events are absolutely ignored. My theory is the lack of timeliness is taught in the elementary school. Case in point. A few years back I went to the primary school’s end of year show. It was slated to start at 3:00. Parents who worked left work early to get there by 2:00 to join the non working parents and thier toddlers in line. Why so early? Well audience consideration is not taught in the school either – there were not enough seats for all the parents. People got there early to grab a seat. It was a hot June afternoon. By three, standing outside the school in the sun I was drenched in sweat. By three-thirty, I was drenched in hate and wondering why the bloody doors hadn’t opened. We could hear the kids still rehearsing. Hey teachers, if you don’t have it ready by now give it up. They let us in at about 3:35. Everyone scrambled for a seat or wall and the spectacular finally began about ten minutes later. (Don’t get me started on the production values.)
The team that produces the events in the piazza and/or the acts they hire seem to have lost their watches too. This year the August festaval headliner, jazzman James Senese was promoted as starting at 10:00. At 9:30 I’m nagging Jack to get a move on so we can get to the village before the show starts. Jack raised an eyebrow and said , “it will start at 11:00.” We got to the piazza a bit before 10:00 and there wasn’t any crowd. Sitting at a table at Bar Mixed Fantasy, Jack told me to look behind me. I did and there sat the roadies for Senese eating sausage sandwhiches at 10:00 PM. No one was on the stage. At about 10:45 things started to wake up and crowds started to form in front of the stage. Somehow they knew when the show would start. Son of a witch, Jack was right – the show started at 11:00. Cripes, maybe I am an Ugly American with my own expectances and Jersey girl angst. Jack, ever living his theme with me said, ” Midge, this is Italia, get over it.” I must say, I have never gone to events in Northern Italy – except the opera in Verona and that started about 10 minutes late – so I don’t know if tardieness is just a southern thing or universal. In the scheme of life does timeliness really matter? Is timeliness – or the lack thereof – a good thing or a not so good thing? You decide.
Those of you who live in or visit Italy or simply have an opinion – please join the conversation. You decide!
La figlia di Giovanni Francesco Guerrera e Margaret Foretek
Go Slide 2 – Nonna & Nonno
La nipote di Francesco Guerrera e Maria Rosaria Solla
Go Slide 3 – Salvatore’s Remains
La pronipote di Salvatore Guerrera e Caterina Guerrera – Don’t give me that look – it’s a small village.
Go Slide 3 – Midge
But hey – call me Midge – I’m a Jersey Girl and an ex-Pat – one of those gypsies who spend part of the year – ex – out of the – patria – fatherland. Or as my pal Madame Lawrence and I like to say – the mother country. My husband, Jack and I spend a good part of every year in Italy – living
Slide 4 – Pontelandolfo
La Dolce Vita! The Sweet Life!
Belle Viste, glorious foods, incredible wines – every baby boomer’s fantasy – the standing ovation of second acts – just thinking about it makes my heart go pitter patter – or is that agida? Rats – that’s dialect – acido – the more I study Italian the less I know – pain in my acido.
Go Slide 5 – Villa
Midge, get back to the story – yeah – where were we – oh yeah our 6 months in Italy – this year we unpacked our bags in our great house – that’s not it.
Restored Stone Italian Home
Go Slide 5 – House
Still ain’t too shabby – living here for 6 months and closing up the New Jersey money pit – I still had cash left over at the end of each month. How could that be? Reasonable – not NJ – rent – 3 bedrooms – 3 bathrooms – utilities included and all the produce we can eat. And a landlord we absolutely adore – coupled with extended family we love to pieces. Sigh – perfetto!
Go Slide 6 – Historic Village
Here’s our little village – Pontelandolfo – provincia di Benevento – regione di Campania. My family left in the early 1900’s – why? They were starving – no jobs – war ravaged land…
La Dolce vita! Wait, wait here it comes –
Go SFX 1: Boom – Crash – Clang
That other shoe – After two days – we’re told my husband was a clandestino – illegal immigrant – deport his ass criminale!
Congratulations! You just made it through the opening few moments of my new one woman show – “La Dolce Vita – or Is It?” Thanks to Marie Di Stefano Miller and the Westlake Italian American Club I was able to present my – gulp – very first performance of the show to about 100 members of the club. Is it terrible of me to admit I freaking loved every second of it!? I loved sitting in the dressing room – yeah this place was classy with a real stage with dressing room – anyway I loved the butterflies in my stomach and my visualization of a successful show to calm my nerves. I loved putting on that dash more of extra make up and high heels – uncomfortable as hell but I planned on not using the stage but walking throughout the house and I’m short.
That’s me – the short thing in front.
I loved the smile on my cute husband’s face as he watched me perform – instead of watching the slide monitor.
Cute Techy!
I loved the check. I gotta say I just love all of it. Seems the audience loved it too – well almost – there always seems to be another shoe in my life.
Dear Midge,
I want to thank you very much for the well developed program you presented last night. You are a superb presenter. Its progression was right in stride, and you enabled everyone to identify with the various scenarios. Well done.
Many are still talking about how much they appreciated and enjoyed the program.
Until the Other Shoe – Bang, Boom
My bizarro antics held the audience until I winged – not my shoe – worse – a plastic table flag holder at two women who must have not seen each other for at least 3 minutes and had a lot of catching up to do – cause they talked frantically for the entire hour – never coming up for air. What the hell is wrong with me – 98 people were absolutely focused on me – clever me – funny me – and I go off and wing a frisbee at two chiacchierone. The audience was shocked! I made a joke of it – talked about being a “Jersey Girl” – but lesson learned! DIVA BEHAVIOR IS VERY BAD!!! Thanks Marie for not calling social faux pas police. Marie’s letter continues –
Again thank you for sharing your exploits with reliving the Italian pathways that lead to the US. Interesting that on both sides of my family I have a grandfather and great grandfather who had two wives.
Marie Di Stefano Miller
Thank you Marie for the kind words and the opportunity.
You too can see the show – just have your club give me a holler! Yes this a blatant self promotion plug. Need cash to maintain La Dolce Vita.
(I promise not to wing the flag holder at anyone in your audience – maybe candy kisses – now that is an audience control idea – pocket full of kisses.)
You knew it had to happen! How could the actress in me just sit at a computer and write the tales of an Italian village? When would I explode and start shouting the tales from the hilltops – or better yet as a one women show wherever anyone will have me. (And pay me of course! This living on a fixed income stuff ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.) The kick in my lazy butt to work on a show came from the Westlake Italian American Club. Marie M, one of the faithful Nonna’s Mulberry Tree subscribers reached out to me and asked if I would do a presentation at Westlake. She knew of my theater background and thought that I would be a funny, entertaining and informative presenter. I mean, of course she is right. Gulp – I have a gig this January – now I need a show!
I quickly e-mailed back and said the title of my show was:
Il Dolce Fa Niente – The Sweetness of Doing Nothing
The BS – oops – PR blurb I wrote was:
How does a type A personality manage to assimilate into the life of a small Italian mountain village? By taking a gulp and repeating daily, “it is OK to do nothing”. It is expected that one naps every afternoon. The evening meandering passeggiata through the piazza is for meeting and greeting not power-walking. I’ll share the stories of how a “Jersey Girl” manages to live in Pontelandolfo, explore her roots and ultimately learn, “Il Dolce Fa Niente”.
Pretty general blurb – I can pretty well talk about anything. Now, here is where I need your help. What would an audience really like to hear about? Take the short poll to help me pick out topics. Or better yet – leave a comment about what posts resonated with you, made you laugh, cry or curse. Tell me what you’d like to know!
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
Look – a pre-lit stage!
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
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.
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.
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.
Now, I’m not sure what a Patron Saint does. I asked Jack who went through 16 years of Catholic Education and he said, ” Nothing now, they’re dead”. After I tossed an apple at him he continued. They used to do miracles, now they are a conduit to God. Folks ask them for help. Ah, I said. Believing there are no coincidences, I began to wonder why in the play I just finished, Mamma Mia – La Befana?! one of the characters asked San Antonio for his help. I thought I had used the name San Antonio because I was finishing the play, here in Ponteladolfo and the festa for him was plastered on posters everywhere. When I looked him up on Wikipedia it said:
St Anthony is venerated all over the world as the Patron Saint for lost articles, and is credited with many miracles involving lost people, lost things and even lost spiritual goods.
Woowoo time. In Mamma Mia – La Befana everyone is looking for the little lost girl, Mary. (This is a secret commercial for my new play, Mamma Mia – La Befana?!, which is perfect for Italian American Clubs, schools, children’s theaters. It is a modern spin on the traditional Italian tale.)
Friday night, June 13 a large percentage of our local community went to the piazza to honor San Antonio. The night started with a mass –
Mass was in Chiesa Madre the “Mother Church”
moved on to procession –
A band led the procession.
and culminated with fireworks.
It was fun to see the whole community participate.
In the middle, was a performance by the youth dance company, I Bebiani di Circello and our favorite – Ri Ualanegli Juonior, the junior company of Pontelandolfo’s folklorico troupe. The company tours internationally!
Before I share a video of the local favorite, I need to tell you that the woowoo gets better. I asked a few people why the children’s company seems to always dance for San Antonio. The answer – he is also the dude who watches over children. Boy did I score a home run picking him to be part of my play about a lost child!
Enjoy the video clip of our young dancers on June 13!
Whoa – all I can think about are drugs! With the air waves bombarded with the shut down of the American Government and all that debate over the Affordable Health Care Act – who wouldn’t think of drugs. Medicine to keep us healthy. Medicine to keep us sane. Time to look into the meds that keep us sane and send some to the USA Congress. It makes me crazy to think that a country still exists where some retired folks stop taking medicine when they find they are in the Medicare Part D donut hole of higher profit for big pharma. I am hoping that the Affordable Care Act – if allowed to live on and grow – addresses that too. OK, enough politics – let’s get down to what it is like for an expat to go to the pharmacy here in Pontelandolfo.
There is only one pharmacy in our village – the sign says Farmacia. It is not Waldgreens or CVS or any big box monolith run by employees who will never remember your name. It is simply La Farmacia – a family owned and operated small space on the Piazza Roma. No, they do not sell soda, bread, flip flops, books or toys – there is however a condom dispenser on the nearby exterior wall. How clever – condoms in a machine available 24/7 right out there in public!
Before we leave for extended Italian stays we always try to stockpile medicines for my husband. I’m lucky – I just take a blood pressure med and I made sure to get a thousand samples. Jack takes a suitcase full of heart, cholesterol and who knows what else stuff. What I do know is that when Jack’s Medicare Part D falls into the donut hole of death for the poor, his monthly tab for meds can be $2,000. Damn, my first car cost less than that. Rats, Jack just edited this and said I am lying about the $2,000. Ptblahhhh ( that is me sticking my tongue out at him.) I got the breakdown for what Jack’s co-pays were before we left for Italy in April – $1718.49. So I exaggerated a little but hey – some people don’t have $1718.49 – and that is still more than my first car.
Jack knew, before we hit the Italian hills, we couldn’t afford to buy multi-month’s worth of pills in the USA . So, we spoke to Michelle and Michael our fabulous local – non corporate – pharmacists at Raritan Apothecary. They said – buy them in Italy – they will be a hell of a lot cheaper.
Blatant Plug – Buy Local
Raritan Apothecary
25 West Somerset Street Raritan, NJ 08869
I will admit, my drama queen worry mamma surfaced. What if we couldn’t get Jack all the stuff he needed? Would I have to send him home? Get in touch with my wild women roots and make drugs from monkwart? The first time Jack ran out of a medicine, I brought the empty bottle to la farmacia and introduced myself to the Perone family team of Nicola and Tina, the father/daughter pharmacists who keep Pontelandolfo on a healthy path. (Yes, I did remember the Italian courtesy of saying Buon Giorno as soon as I entered the store.)
Tina Perone – who always said “Ciao Midge”. That doesn’t happen at CVS.
Dott. Tina Perone recognized me as Carmella’s cousin – the American who dances two nights a week with her mother. Small villages create the art and activity they need. Carmella had organized a bi-weekly line dancing excersize and get together gab fest at the indoor bocce courts. I love to dance, need excersize and wanted to meet the village women. It was a win – win – win since it gave Tina and I an immediate connection.
Even without that connection, Jack and I would have been treated like people not numbers. Dott. Nicola Perone took the empty bottle and then proceeded to research for an incredibly long time the formula and ingredients. When he had the Italian perfect match he provided Jack with his meds. We do not have health insurance for Italy. We are not part of the Italian health care system. We paid full retail. Full retail that was freakin’ less than Jack’s bloody co-pay in the USA! How the hell can that be?
Over the course of months we visited the pharmacy often. Jack’s meds were always researched and supplied. The one thing that cost more in Italy was Advil – ibuprofen – one euro a pill! Of course they only sell 400 mg of Ibuprofen – not our 200 mg bottles. Jack needs to pack his Costco Ibuprofen or start using the Italian Spedifen! Interesting that vitamins weren’t pushed – apparently most people only take those vitamins that docs prescribe – like vitamin D. That made me pause and think about how much I spend a month on supplements.
Poor Jack, he loves to walk in the noon day sun up and down the hills. Too bad the soft corn between his toes hurt like a son of a bitch. We went into the pharmacy to get the name of a podiatrist and the first thing Dott. Nicola said was take off your shoe. Jack took off his shoe and Dott. Nicola looked at the giant thing between his toes. Damn, I wouldn’t even do that and I love the guy. He gave Jack some rubber things to put between his toes and some gunk to put on the ugly thing. Did you catch that, the pharmacist got on his knees and checked out my husband’s toes. You don’t see that at Walmart.
Dott. Nicola Perone – our fabulous pharmacist!
I am uncomfortable sharing the meds my husband takes so I will only give you one example of price point differentials. Before we left for Italy Jack got Nexium 40mg – 90 pills – for a $311.95 co-pay or $3.47 co-pay per pill. In Italy for the generic exomeprazolo it cost .73 per pill retail – not co-pay. I just checked on line and the exomeprazolo 40 mg for 90 days co-pay at CVS on line comes to .55 per pill. Retail is less than or a wee bit more than the USA co-pay. Huh?!!! What?!!!!
Interested in learning more about Italian pharmacies and brushing up on your Italian –
Le farmacie sono luoghi organizzati dallo stato ma operati da professionisti medici che vendono medicinali solitamente dietro ricetta medica. Con l’istituzione delle parafarmacie è possibile acquistare medicinali equivalenti senza ricetta medica.
Pharmacies are places organized by the state but operated by medical professionals who sell medicines usually with a prescription. With the establishment of drugstores you can buy generic medicines without prescription. Are big box drugstores coming to Italy? I hope not. We did see pharmacy concessions with a separate check out in big grocery stores – kind of a grocery/Walmart store set up.
Just like I won’t shop in a Walmart in the USA and we only get medicine at a local pharmacy – Raritan Apothecary. When in Italy, I’ll stick with going to see Dott. Nicola and Dott. Tina in our little La Farmacia on the Piazza. La Farmacia where every “Buon Giorno” is greeted with a smile and you are served by people you can trust.
Nonna's Mulberry Tree 