Guarino

La Fine

Our whirlwind tour of southern Italy provided insights that might otherwise have been difficult to glean. 

We knew that the cars were smaller in Europe.  But some of the vehicles we saw, particularly in Rome, were extraordinarily tiny, even to the extent of arousing smiles of disbelief-- and some appeared as if their rear half had been amputated:

The price of gas was just over $5.00 per gallon, but there were lots of Italians out driving.  While their choice of vehicle suggested a desire to conserve fuel, their driving habits did not.

I have not spoken much during this series about food.  But it suffices to say that there was not a bad meal to be found during our two-week stay.  And we did not dine in "fine dining" ristoranti-- but rather, for the most part, in mere pizzerie.

When I visited Italy twenty-five years ago, things went horribly wrong with some regularity.  At least several times during our stay, the entire country went on strike; and commercial establishments and tourist attractions could not be accessed.  The country was unreliable.

We had very little difficulty this time.  Things were, for the most part, timely and reliable--even in the south.  The only major disruption we experienced, however, was problematic.  There was no running water in our small apartment in Castelvetrano the morning we were to depart.

Our tour guide in Selinunte had told us that deforestation in southwestern Sicily had caused rivers to dry up, and the soil to harden.  There was a profusion of wild cactus plants-- a sign of local conditions that I did not expect.  And we were told, belatedly, that the vicinity has water problems.

My ear for the Italian language is not nearly sophisticated enough to recognize the different dialects.  But when we were in Sicily, our "innkeeper" in Castelvetrano was virtually incomprehensible to me.  I noticed the language as spoken by locals start to change somewhat in Calabria. 

Our stay in Terranova, for me, was an important moment.  A British explorer, Norman Douglas, had written a book called "Old Calabria" which was published in 1915.  Even though Terranova is not technically part of the current region of Calabria, Douglas briefly visited and described the town:

"After leaving the forest region it is a downhill walk of nearly three hours to reach Terranova di Pollino, which lies, only 910 metres above sea-level, against the slope of a wide and golden amphitheatre of hills, at whose entrance the river Sarmento has carved itself a prodigious gateway through the rock. A dirty little place; the male inhabitants are nearly all in America; the old women nearly all afflicted with goitre. I was pleased to observe the Calabrian system of the house-doors, which life in civilized places had made me forget. These doors are divided into two portions, not vertically like ours, but horizontally. The upper portion is generally open, in order that the housewife sitting within may have light and air in her room, and an opportunity of gossiping with her neighbours across the street; the lower part is closed, to prevent the pigs in the daytime from entering the house (where they sleep at night). The system testifies to social instincts and a certain sense of refinement.

The sights of Terranova are soon exhausted."

This contemptuous passage resonated with me.  My grandfather had left only a couple of years earlier, and my grandmother was to leave within the next several years.  My grandfather was the only male from his large family to stay in America, contrary to Douglas' observation.   But my grandmother-- who was a lovely, gentle woman-- had  a goiter that was easily visible.  I found it somewhat of concern that Douglas would use the existence of such a condition as an indication that a place is somehow less worthy.  I learned that a local deficiency of dietary iodine led to the phenomenon Douglas observed at that time, which has since been remedied.

But today, Terranova is not even remotely like the picture Douglas paints.  Its streets and buildings are clean; and its people appear to be reasonably healthy.  Education and the attainment of literacy are readily available.  The town-- and most southern Italian towns-- have participated in many of the advances of the 20th century and early 21st century, and are undoubtedly much better off than they were 95 years ago when my grandparents left.  In fact, things are so much better that British tourists are now paying significantly to visit there, and to spend their vacations in places like Terranova-- which had been so dismissively treated by another Brit named Douglas.

I learned that migration was commonplace among the young to middle-aged generations of southern Italian families.  When I spoke with family members and friendly paesani in Terranova and Calabria, it became clear that some young people remained in their home town.  But it seemed that upwards of one-third were migrating to the cities of central and northern Italy to work. 

While the nation of Italy is an industrial powerhouse, it still has significant economic weaknesses.  About 25% of its young men are unemployed, and I am told this percentage is even higher in the south.   Some young men have to work several years, gratis, to establish themselves and gain experience and credentials.

Despite all the unemployment, there is no sense of social dissolution and breakdown.  While family sizes in southern Italy have diminished markedly-- I consistently heard of families with two or three children-- there is still a strong sense of familial obligation.  The basic unit of society-- the family-- is largely intact in spite of some trying economic circumstances, and the overall community benefits.

Walking through some of the cities and towns during the passegiatta was an experience.  During these evening hours, the towns spring to life, and the streets bustle with activity.  But in some places-- where the middle-aged men "hang out", instead of walking--  it can be a bit intimidating, as they glare suspiciously at newcomers and strangers.   This is easily overcome, however.  Just interrupt them humbly asking for directions in their native tongue, and they instantaneously melt into the most helpful people one can imagine.

Being "Italian"and making this trip conferred certain theoretical advantages.   I was told, for instance, in Naples that my appearance made it less likely that we would be targeted after-hours by unsavory locals.  But at the same time, we would notice small children out playing on the streets and in the piazze without adult supervision and accompaniment.   Apparently their parents were unconcerned about the allegedly unsafe atmosphere.

I could tell that some of the locals saw my physical appearance and recognized my background.  And one of the most satisfying aspects of the trip, for me, was the way the locals honored me nearly as one of their own.  The hotel personnel, the tour guides, the drivers-- even some people we met at various attractions and on the streets-- took special  note of my surname.  They all claimed they knew of local Guarini to whom I might theoretically be related.  And they were interested to know where my roots were.

If my family came from the same region, there was a certain kinship.  If my family came from the same town or city, well, that was huge.

And when they spoke my surname, it was pronounced correctly every single time.  That hardly ever happened even in New York, and it never happens in the southern US.

There was a certain sense of belonging-- as if acceptance was automatic, even though my family had been gone for a century.  There was almost a subconscious sense of belonging there, among my people, even though my life was elsewhere. 

Viewing these people, through the prism of their remarkable history, is more readily accomplished over there.

This concludes my series.  I hope at least some have enjoyed it. 

Special thanks to my son David, age 15, who eagerly snapped nearly 700 photographs during our two-week stay, and whose work product enhanced this series greatly.

I will return to political blogging, from which I have taken a vacation for over two months, forthwith.

Palermo

Media representations of Palermo and Sicily are decidedly unfavorable.  The typical depiction is that these areas are overrun by the mafia.  In addition, there are some presumptions with regard to some of the other stereotypes regarding southern Italy and its people.

Tour books and travel commentators emphasize how damage from WWII was never fixed because of mafia influence.

The real picture is much different.  When I visited Amantea in Calabria, and the locals heard we were going to Palermo, what was their response?  "Palermo is beautiful."  And indeed, it is.

Palermo possesses none of the gritty undercurrent associated with Naples.  While it is a bustling, busy, noisy city, it also contains much that delights.  The city was first established by the Carthaginians.

Unfortunately, our stay in Palermo was shorter than anticipated because of an unanticipated disruption as we were leaving Castelvetrano.  We should have allowed more time to explore Palermo.

Our first stop was San Giovanni degli Eremiti.  It is a Norman church from the 12th century which is no longer used.  It is barren and exposed to the elements.  This site had previously been a mosque before the Normans made it a church,  and the mosque presumably dated back to the previous period of Arab Saracen rule. Its dome is depicted below:

It is nearly empty inside, but contains evidence of an old portal that is partially filled in:

Outdoor areas are extensively gardened, and reveal a seasonal shrub that was in bloom everywhere, and a cactus plant that bears edible fruit:

Just like Naples, Palermo was once a very big deal.  Whereas Naples attained prominence in the late Middle Ages through the Enlightenment, Palermo was particularly important during the period of Norman rule and beforehand.

Sicily was heavily taxed during the Byzantine period when it was ruled from Constantinople (or what is now Istanbul, Turkey); and this stifled its ability to do well economically. Eastern Christianity prevailed.  But then the Arab Saracens took over around 827 AD, and counterintuitively, improved upon what had been previously going on during the Byzantine period. 

These Arabs were unlike the current generation of radical Islam.  They were relatively tolerant, and various cultures, religions, ethnicities and languages were permitted to coexist-- Islam, Christianity, and Judaism were practiced; Greek, Arabic, Latin and early forms of Sicilian were spoken.  This was perhaps one of the earliest dramatic demonstrations of multiculturalism.  It was a relatively prosperous time because of the Arabic influence on economic pursuits.  Palermo then was one of the wealthiest and largest European cities.

The outside of the Norman church we just described-- Giovanni degli Eremiti-- demonstrates this Arabic/Islamic influence in Palermo:

The Normans took over around 1050 AD.  During the period of Norman rule, Palermo became the seat of the Holy Roman Empire.  But there were two other aspects of Norman rule in Sicily that were of profound historical importance.

First, the Normans allied themselves with the Roman Catholic Church, and moved away from the eastern branch of the Catholic church that had previously prevailed in Sicily.  This meant that Sicily and southern Italy-- and other Norman-controlled territories in southern Europe-- were to become much more heavily penetrated by the Roman Catholics, and the eastern branch of the church was to lose influence significantly.  (The ultimate fate of southern Italy and Sicily was one of the ongoing issues between the eastern and western branches of the Christian church; and was one of the dynamics that led to the Great Schism when the eastern Church broke away permanently and formed the Eastern Orthodox church.) 

One interesting aspect of this alliance between the Normans and the Roman Catholic Church is that the Norman kings sought, and largely obtained, the imprimatur of the Church.  It was common for the popes to crown the Norman kings.

The second aspect of Norman rule that was to have profound long-lasting implications was its introduction of the institution of feudalism.  This economic system trapped and exploited the common peoples of Sicily and southern Italy, and caused the entire region to stagnate as modern times arrived and other regions within Europe-- including northern Italy-- attained primacy.  Feudalism persisted until the 19th century, and its legacy continues to affect economic circumstances in southern Italy and Sicily even to this day.

Sicily is the only Italian region that has its own parliament.  It is housed in a former Norman palace in Palermo:

The Cathedral in Palermo also was a Norman structure, but was initially built upon a mosque.   Its design had Arab, and later Gothic, neoclassical, Romanesque and baroque elements.  Several of the most prominent Norman monarchs from Palermo were Robert Guiscard, Roger II, William II and Frederick II.   King Roger II and Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II are buried at the cathedral.   Some views of the cathedral:

One unusual element reflecting the mixed heritage of Sicily is that the cathedral has a column with a page from the Koran engraved.   In addition, it has a more ornate structure used for holy water than is commonly seen:

Walking through Palermo had its surprises.  A former palace is visible from the street, and has been converted to residential living spaces:

Some areas appear downright tropical:

A rare symbol of fascism is permitted to remain openly displayed:

One particular intersection-- the four corners, or Quattro Canti-- is interesting. Each corner has a fountain with other representations significant for former Spanish rule-- which occurred after the Normans.  A couple of the corners:

Another Norman/baroque church is La Martorana which has some beautiful mosaic work from the Norman period.  One mosaic depicts Christ crowning King Roger II:

Adjacent to the above church is the Piazza Pretoria, which has a fountain with 500 separate pieces of sculpture:  The Fontana Pretoria dates back to 1575, and incorporates numerous stairways, channels of water and basins:

Palermo also has an impressive opera house (pardon the glare in the photo below); and also the Teatro Massimo from the late 19th century, once Italy's best theater, the roof of which opens during intermissions:

Palermo has an extensive central commercial district where there is ample upscale shopping, restaurants, and the like.  There was a distinct air of prosperity. 

We felt completely safe during our time in Palermo;  but the taxi ride back to our hotel near the airport was arguably our last true adventure in Italy.

Tomorrow night, I will try to wrap up the Italy series.

Castelvetrano

My maternal grandfather was Vincent Fiorenza, and his family immigrated from Castelvetrano in Sicily when he was young.  I have recently learned that the name "Fiorenza" is an ancient way of saying "Florence" in one of the Italian dialects-- which raises the question as to whether an ancestor centuries ago might have migrated from Florence to Sicily.

We were not successful in finding relatives in Castelvetrano. 

But we saw some neat things in the city.  It has a population of about 30,000 people-- whereas Amantea had 13,000, and Terranova only had 3,000.

For a city of this size, its churches were quite impressive, with extensive art work and decorative features.  And it also had numerous upscale shops in its centro storico, again more than one would expect for a town this size.

Castelvetrano boasts a signature "black bread" which is not really black; but it is quite dense and laden with ingredients and spices which makes it very tasty.

Its proximity to Selinunte provides it with material for a Museo Civico, and a number of archeological displays.  Included are the following two items, the first of which is a bronze statue, the Ephebe of Selinus, dating back to around 480 BC:

Castelvetrano dates back at least to the time of the Angevins-- around the 1200's, although it is felt that it was inhabited much earlier by the "veterans" of Selinunte and another ancient population.

A royal/noble family named Tagliavia was in control from the middle ages-- and continued to have great influence after Sicily was taken over by a succession of foreign powers.  Much art work was supported, and it became a fairly significant city for that region.

We stayed across the street from the Church of San Giovanni.  This was a very impressive edifice dating back to 1589.  It has a distinctive dome:

It also has a well-known statue of St. John the Baptist, and a decorated ceiling:

Piazza Umberto has the Fountain of the Nymph, dating back to 1615:

Nearby Piazza Garibaldi has the Selinus Theatre, built after the unification of Italy by the Saporito family; and the Cathedral Church;

Inside the Cathedral Church, a kindly old man offered to show us around.  It again was richly decorated with artwork far beyond what one would expect for a city of this size.  It dates back to 1520; but was built and expanded upon other churches at the site that dated back to the 1300's.  Our "tour guide" brought us beneath the church where ancient crypts were kept.  A couple of photographs reveal an area of flooring and a column that demonstrate the church's most recent style; but also an earlier, deeper layer for each reflecting a previous style:

The city has 160 courtyards incorporated in a manner that suggests an Arab influence.  The Castelvetrano region is a major producer of olive oil, and has some other industries as well.

This was a very nice town, and its people were quite helpful and hospitable.

The last stop we made at the end of our trip was Palermo, about which I will post by this weekend.

Selinunte

We proceeded to southwest Sicily, on the Mediterranean Sea.  My maternal grandfather was from Castelvetrano, and only a few miles away is the ancient Greek city of Selinunte.

Selinunte was established by the Greeks in 651 B.C.  It was the westernmost ancient Greek city along the Mediterranean, and was located at the narrowest part of the great sea.  It was therefore of great strategic importance to the Greeks because of the potential to control trade and military maneuvers through the Mediterranean.

We had never been to Greece or to a preserved ancient Greek city, so this was a real treat.  While it is not necessarily the best example in southern Italy, it is nevertheless impressive.

Selinunte for many years was a big pile of rubble until the mid-20th century.  A decision was made, reflecting a political compromise, to restore (or reconstruct) one of the temples, and to leave the others in a pile of stone as they had been.

A couple of views of the main temple that had been reconstructed:

One thing I had never appreciated was the immensity of the stone pillars or columns on these temples.  Take a look at the first picture above; and note the people standing on the left side of the picture, and their size in relation to the fluted columns.

The style is Doric.  The Greek ideal of order and balance is reflected in the temple design.  But the work that was required to build these temples is awe-inspiring. 

Each of the columns is actually composed of several blocks that look like this:

Note the hole at the bottom of the cylinder in the above picture (seen on the right).  A rod was placed into that hole that was drilled longitudinally through the center of the block.  The rod was used to align the block with those above and below.

How did they lift and place these enormous blocks to make columns?  According to our tour guide, they had an elaborate plan.  They constructed hills along the side of the temple with a gentle gradient, and rolled the blocks up the hill high enough to deposit the block at its proper height on its column.  Another source suggested the use of pulleys and other mechanical devices to lift the stones.

The pile of stone rubble, as it was before reconstruction:

No Greek settlement is complete, perhaps, without an Acropolis, where real people lived.   Selinunte had one, with streets and shops:

Near the city, we can see where the ancient port was, and where the common people would have lived, respectively:

The city had a wall and a tower (or round house) for protection:

A trough was used to feed animals and livestock.  A hole was cut through the side, and rope was run through the hole to tie the animal while it was feeding or drinking:

Our recollection is that the tub below was used for wine:

Blocks were chiseled into the proper shape and form.  Detail was important.  Below is an unfinished block, with a protruding center:

The inside of the temple included a place where treasure was kept; a vestibule; and a "house of the divinity":

Selinunte was not to last for long.  In 409 B.C., the ancient Carthaginians destroyed it under the leadership of a fellow named Hannibal, and conducted a particularly brutal massacre on its people.   The city, however, later reverted to Greek control , and went back and forth between the Greeks and the Carthaginians.  Western Sicily was largely controlled by the Carthaginians, however.  Ultimately, Selinunte became Roman in 241 BC at the end of the first Punic War.  The western part of Sicily was to be one of the significant battlegrounds in the Punic Wars between Carthage and Rome-- and the Romans, of course, were the victors in the long run.

Below is a reminder of the Carthaginian (or Phoenician) presence at Selinunte.  Their gods were felt to be underground, and this well led to that location:

In some respects, the Greek presence at Selinunte is a reminder of what distinguishes the background of southern Italians, and the history of southern Italy.  Because we were only under the control of Rome for a brief period, and really never were under the control of northern Italy, the influences were entirely different. 

Southern Italy and Sicily , in their earliest days, were busy looking eastward-- because they were controlled by ancient Greeks; and Carthaginians from north Africa (who in turn were controlled by Phoenicians from the Middle East); and Saracenic Arabs; and Byzantines.  This is a major distinguishing feature.  The Greek influence in the coastal cities had been particularly strong until relatively recent times.  An appreciation of the art, the gods and the wisdom produced by that civilization was inculcated; and was fairly ubiquitous in some places, transmitted through the generations with a verbal tradition.

The tension between the eastern and western worlds-- and the way that tension was ultimately resolved-- was later to be one of the most important aspects of Sicily's early role in history, which we will discuss further when we visit Palermo.

But our next stop tomorrow will be Castelvetrano.

Navigating Southern Italy, to Sicily

We did not attempt to drive in Naples or Rome.  Operating a motor vehicle in Italy can be treacherous for Americans, and it is worst in the big cities.

I thought the smaller towns would be manageable.  And for the most part, they were.

But navigating was a challenge.  American men tend to rely on maps.  But upon arriving in some of the smaller towns, we found that it was nearly impossible to find a map to purchase.  That left us with the old standby of asking for directions, but unfortunately, many red-blooded American men-- myself included-- do not like to do that.  In spite of this aversion, it became necessary to do so.  Often.  We found new ways to get lost in nearly every town we visited.

In addition, nearly all the cars in Italy have standard shift.  The last time I drove a car with a standard shift was about nine years ago, so I was very rusty.  Becoming reacquainted with using the shift on the mountainous terrain was a bit tricky.  And of course, I benefited from nearly continuous reviews from my fellow travelers regarding how well I was doing with the shift.:)

Highway driving is also different in southern Italy.  In the United States, we tend to designate highways with numbers.  For instance, I drive every day on Highway 29 between Reidsville and Greensboro.  In Italy, however, the highway number designation is often deemphasized or nonexistent on the signage; and instead the signage points with arrows to destination cities and towns.  If you do not know the other cities and towns in the direction you are traveling, you often cannot navigate.   So it became necessary to study the highway maps in a completely different way.

The countryside was astonishing.  The mountains in southern Basilicata and northern Calabria were dramatic, with significant elevations and steep peaks.  And in spite of the severe inclines, much of the sides of the mountains leading to the top had often been cultivated, creating numerous hues of brown, green, yellow, etc. on the mountain sides.    The appearance was distinct from what we see in the eastern United States, which is often uniformly green.

The Italian version of the interstate highway is called the autostrada. These highways carve and slink their way through the mountains and along the coasts in a memorable way.  In fact, these roads are extraordinary feats of engineering, and quite safe.  There is a preponderance of tunnel construction.  In fact, I sometimes felt as though I was driving through tunnels that were dug through mountains as often as I was driving on the open road.

We reached the southern tip of Calabria and placed our car on a ferry boat to cross the strait of Messina, and visit Sicily.  It is also possible to take the train across the strait, because special ferries carry train cars also. 

This general vicinity of southwestern Calabria and northeastern Sicily was the site of a devastating earthquake one century ago.  Over 100,000 people died due to this earthquake on both sides of the strait.

The Greek playwright Homer spent some time near Messina in Sicily, and wrote of Odysseus' fear of the strait.   In fact, Greek was spoken commonly in Sicily until the Napoleonic era.

Autostrada A20 straddles the northern coast of Sicily, and runs from Messina to Palermo.   It is probably the most spectacularly beautiful highway on which I have ever driven, with dramatic mountain views to the left, and sea views to the right-- often simultaneously.    Even the informed judgment of the Calabrese and Neapolitan people with whom I spoke suggested that Sicily is uniquely beautiful-- and it is.  And I had been told that it has some of the best beaches anywhere.

The autostrada have rest stops, just like many of our interstate highways do.  They sell panini and offer rest rooms.   At one rest stop along that devastatingly beautiful stretch across Sicily, we found the following truck parked:

 

Even though we saw this truck in Sicily, the company is based in Campania.

Famous Americans with roots in Sicily have included Associate Justice of the US Supreme Court Antonin Scalia, Yankee great Joe DiMaggio, Frank Sinatra, and legendary movie director Frank Capra.  Sicily has bred some creative, talented people with the capacity to deliver an impactful message.  And it has a uniquely influential history of which many are unaware.

Our next stop will be the Greek temples of Selinunte and the city of Castelvetrano, where my maternal grandfather was born.

Amantea

We departed from Terranova di Pollino to drive back toward the western coast of Italy-- the same coast as Naples, on the Tyrrhenian Sea.  We needed to travel further southward into the region of Calabria to arrive at our next destination.  Because of the mountainous terrain, and the location of the major roads, we had to take a very indirect route which required much more time than the actual physical distance might have suggested.

Famous Americans with roots in Calabria have included Tony Bennett, the popular singer; and former Yankee shortstop/broadcaster Phil Rizzuto.

In any event, we arrived at the seaside city of Amantea, where my maternal grandmother was born.  This was the place from which the Molinari clan came, about which I first wrote when I began this blog two years ago.

Amantea is a former fishing village, and is now a beach town.  We had a chance to spend some time on the beach both days we were there.  Here are some views of the newer part of town, and of the sea, from higher elevations in the older part of town:

And here is a picturesque view of one of the old parts of town:

The history of the Amantea is fairly interesting.  It has a castle perched up on the hill above the city.  It has been suggested that the stones at the base of that castle date back to the times before the ancient Greeks.  But another history I have read suggests that the castle was built during the Byzantine period-- to safeguard the border of the Byzantine-controlled territory-- after the Roman empire had fallen.  The ruins of the castle are still present, and a couple of towers flank it nearby:

Civilization has existed in Amantea for a very long time.  Artifacts from the bronze age and the iron age have been found near its port, dating back more than 3,000 years.  The ancient Greeks had never established a foothold in Amantea, mainly because a local warrior tribe called the Bruzi kept them out.  But the Romans succeeded in taking over the region, and used it to grow produce.  A large port was built, and the produce was shipped from this port to imperial Rome.  Southern Italy had always been a major producer of citrus fruit.

After the Byzantine period, Amantea fell in 839 AD to a group of Arabs called the Saracens-- whose home base, ironically, was a place called Baghdad.  After the fall of the Saracens, the control of Amantea was under the various kingdoms that, for the most part, ruled from Naples.

When we arrived in Amantea, we found the pensione at which we were going to stay-- the Pensione Margherita.  It is owned and operated by Rocco Musi, a native of Amantea who lived in the United States for many years.  It turns out that our visit was to be heavily influenced by a couple of guys named Rocco.

Rocco was aware of my family roots in Amantea, and proved to be very helpful.  When I arrived, he advised me that there were at least two Molinari clans in Amantea, but this may have resulted from a split in the family many years ago.  One clan was composed of professional people, including a high-ranking military officer and a prominent judge.   The other clan was composed of people with a craft or a trade.  The Molinari who was a judge was a frequent contributor to the pages of the local newspaper, and Rocco provided me with copies of clippings from his writings.

The Pensione Margherita was described and immortalized in Paul Paolicelli's book, Under the Southern Sun.  Paolicelli described the Italian tradition of the passegiata, or evening walk.  But in many southern Italian towns, for middle aged to elderly Italian men, there is a tradition of "hanging out" and chatting with other men during the passegiata, often in a piazza or in front of a commercial establishment.   We witnessed this phenomenon in various  cities and towns.

In Amantea, one of the locations where this took place was directly in front of the Pensione Margherita, where Rocco would set out plastic white chairs for his neighborhood guests.  He told me this was one of the things he missed about Italy when he lived in the United States.  In any case, the men who gather each night settle the matters of the world with their discussions, and track the goings-on in the town.  It turns out that several of them spoke English, and had migrated back and forth between the United States and Italy.

Rocco Musi told me he had a friend who was a part of the group that visited each evening named Rocco Molinari, and he was going to introduce me to him.

When Rocco Molinari arrived later that evening, I spoke with him in my limited Italian, attempting to discover common roots.  It was difficult, because Rocco never knew his grandfather, and seemed to be cut off from his past.  He knew that his grandfather's name was Domenico, and his father's name was Giuseppe.  Rocco Musi pointed out that given names tend to recur in Italian families through the generations, and pointed out that many of the given names in Rocco MolinarI's family were the same as those found on my family tree.  I suggested to him that we might be cousins,  but he was unsure.  It was possible his great-grandfather was one of those who did not immigrate.  He left for home on his bicycle.

But he returned later that evening with copies of a couple of letters his sister Liliana had received in 1997 from the nation of Brazil.   The letters were written by a maestro pianist named Mario Molinaro.  In the letters, Mario from Brazil outlined his lineage.  His great-grandfather was Giuseppe Molinaro, who was married to Raffaela Belsito.  His grandfather was Francesco Molinaro.  He explained that several of the sons of Giuseppe-- Giovanni, Rocco, Antonio and Francesco (his own grandfather) -- had migrated to Brazil.  Several of the other sons-- Gaetano, Ottorino, Luigi and Settimo-- had migrated to the United States.

Gaetano was my great-grandfather.  The lineage outlined in the letter Rocco showed me is entirely consistent with my family tree.  I had been told that my own great-grandfather had planned to go to Brazil to join his brothers, but a Yellow Fever epidemic there made that impossible.  He and his other three brothers instead came to the United States.

South America at that time was a more hospitable place for Italian immigrants than the United States.  Its Spanish culture was southern European, and was more similar to that found in southern Italy than the Anglo culture in the United States.

The fact that Rocco's sister had received this letter from Brazil made it much more likely that we were related.

But this all seemed unusual nonetheless.  The pianist from Brazil spelled his surname with an "o" at the end, whereas the clan in the US spelled it with an "i".  In the Italian language, this merely represents a difference between singular and plural;  "o" is singular, and "i" is plural.  But I still do not know how or why the families in Italy and Brazil retained the "o", whereas the families that immigrated to New York adopted an "i" at the end of the name.

When Rocco scribbled down his address for me, he wrote his surname with an "o".  I wrote out a copy of the family tree so that he would have it.

It turned out that Amantea was in the midst of a week-long festival celebrating its patron saint, Anthony of Padua.  I was told repeatedly that the Molinari ancestral home was located in the old section of town, just behind a church.  And a concert was being held in the same vicinity that night as a part of the festival celebration.  Rocco invited my family to join him there for the concert that evening, and he would show us the ancestral home.

The church is referred to as the "Chiesa Madre", or Mother Church, which dates back to the 1600's.  It is depicted here:

And as we were told, on a street just above and behind the church, was the ancestral home:

The home has been sold, and is no longer in the family.  Rocco told me that it is not uncommon for folks from Northern Italy to purchase homes in the old section, at the highest elevations.  (This home is just below the location of the castle.)    And the view of the sea from this location was inspiring.

Below are pictures with cousin Rocco, left, and his brother Antonio.  I had been in Italy just long enough to begin gesticulating demonstratively.  The second photo is in front of the ancestral home:

Later, more relatives began to join us, including the wives and sisters of Rocco and Antonio.  They have two sisters that we met-- Liliana and Lucia.  In addition, we met the daughters of Antonio and Liliana-- each named Anna. 

Lights were strung across the street in canopy-like fashion for the festival:

And a few other Amantea scenes:

A makeshift memorial to the area's fishermen and the town's historic downtown is found on the street nearly in front of the Molinari home:

We found some signage in the town with other surnames found in the Molinari family tree, including Morelli and Perciavalle:

I am very grateful to Rocco Musi of the Pensione Margherita for connecting us with our family.  Amantea was already a beautiful place, but this made it even more special. 

Next stop: Sicily.

Terranova di Pollino

Terranova di Pollino is a mountain village in the southern part of the Italian region of Basilicata.  It is quite close to the border with Calabria.  We drove 40 miles south from Matera to reach Terranova.

By Italian standards, it is a relatively new city.  It was established as a fief under the Kingdom of Naples in the 15th century.  It is at an elevation of approximately 3,000 feet, but sits at the base of a mountain.  We had to ascend significantly to reach Terranova. 

We found this sign when we finally entered the town, but I forgot to ask about its significance:

Both of my paternal grandparents were born and raised in this area.  My grandfather immigrated when he was around 24 years old, around 1913. My grandmother immigrated with her family, by my recollection, when she was in her mid-to-late teens.

We arrived at the Picchio Nero Hotel, where we were greeted by the owner and host, Pino Golia.   When we arrived, we learned that the hotel was hosting a large group of British tourists who had come to vacation in the area.

Terranova di Pollino is located in the Mount Pollino National Park, which is the largest nature preserve in Italy.  This national park was established about 15 years ago, and made Terranova a destination for travelers.  The British group seemed particularly interested in hiking, but they were also sightseeing.

Pino is an exceedingly gracious host at the hotel, and is quite helpful.  He carved out a niche in the travel industry by appealing to travelers seeking "alternative" vacations a bit off the beaten path.  He serves breakfast and dinner at the hotel, and has become a widely consulted food expert with respect to culinary delights from the region.  He told me that he has attended and spoken at gourmet conferences in New York, Baltimore and Washington. In addition, his food at Picchio Nero has been the subject of an article in the cooking magazine, Cucina Italiana.  The hotel has an upscale feel, especially with regard to its common areas and the meals. 

In any event, I was acutely interested in determining whether I had any relatives that remain in the region.  My grandfather was the only person in his family who immigrated and stayed in America.  He had numerous siblings, so I felt there was a good chance there would be at least some relatives.  My extended family in New York had lost contact with the family in Terranova probably back in the 1960's.

My Aunt Theresa had visited Terranova in 1960; and in fact, she was the only member of our extended family who ever made this trip.  When I told her we were going to Terranova, she had duplicates made of all the photographs she took when she visited, which included numerous family members.

My travel agent offered to forward my family tree to the hotel.  Pino received it, and contacted someone in the Guarino clan in Terranova.  The morning after we arrived, Vincenzo Guarino arrived at the hotel lobby.  I learned that he is the grandson of my grandfather's brother Domenico. 

We spoke in Italian, and this was to be the biggest test thus far of my limited proficiency with the language.  We tried to establish commonalities, and to bring each other up to date.  I showed him the small photo album from 47 years ago when my aunt visited.  He flipped through, and I could sense his excitement increasing as he saw numerous pictures of relatives from the region, many of whom had since passed away.  I can imagine how unusual it must have been to have someone from overseas arrive with photographs of your extended family.  But it turned out that the photo album was an excellent way to establish rapport and relatedness.

Vincenzo went over the album with Pino, and they decided together that the countryside in the pictures was from a nearby rural community called Casa del Conte,  which happens to be at a higher elevation.  It turns out that this was where the Guarino family had lived when my grandfather was growing up, although I had never heard of this community previously.  Vincenzo knew precisely where the family homestead was.  He was going to take us there, and was also going to show us around the nearby portions of the national park.  It was to be an amazing experience.

We drove up to Vincenzo's house, in the heart of Terranova.  We met and spent some time with his family, including his wife Rosaria, his son, Nicola, and his daughter, Maria Antonetta.  Both his son and daughter had been studying at the university.  Nicola's interest was forestry; whereas Maria Antonetta was studying law.

Vincenzo's wife, Rosaria, was originally from Apulia, and is a schoolteacher.  In fact, she teaches Italian at the local school.  Vincenzo is the town secretary for the city of Terranova, which is a responsible administrative position.  They were all so pleasant and helpful and welcoming:

 

Some questions were burning in my mind.  What had made all the others stay behind when my grandfather decided to leave?   He honestly did not know.  There was one brother, however, who went to America with my grandfather, he said; but his significant other ultimately wanted to be in Terranova, so he returned.

I thought about the rugged terrain, the difficult ascent to the town and its isolation.  I earlier asked Pino how my grandfather would have found his way to Naples to immigrate one hundred years ago.  In all likelihood, he said, a donkey would have carried him down to a meeting point, probably at a town at a lower elevation relatively nearby, where another mode of transport would carry him to Naples to board a ship to the United States.

I asked him whether the area had always been inhabited, even before it became a fiefdom under Naples.  He indicated that it had; but later, Vincenzo shared with me information of which none of my extended family in the United States was aware. 

The Guarino family had apparently migrated to Terranova in the early 1800's from the much larger city of Salerno in the region of Campania.  (Recall that Salerno had a significant World War II history.)  In one of my previous posts, I mentioned that I had been told that Guarino was a common surname in Naples and Campania, so it made a lot of sense that my family would have migrated from that region.

I told Vincenzo that the men in the Guarino clan in the United States worked in construction.  Is this the type of work they did in Terranova also?

No, Vincenzo said.  Their occupation was that of a Boscaiolo.  I had to look that one up-- and it means woodman.  In all likelihood, they hunted for their food, and lived a simple rural lifestyle.

We drove to Casa del Conte, just a mile or two away.  We saw the structures at the family homestead:

But no one was at home, and we returned several times.  We toured the countryside, which was beautiful:

It was time for lunch, and we returned to Casa del Conte.  It turns out that this rural outpost my grandfather left one century ago is now the site of several restaurants and even an agriturismo facility.  Vincenzo suggested one particular restaurant:

Vincenzo told me that this restaurant was owned and operated by a gentleman named Guarino.  He cautioned, however, that this was not our family.  It turned out there were two Guarino clans that had settled in the area.  (I wondered about that, because sometimes family splits will occur.)  In any case, he enabled for me to meet the owner/chef.  I introduced myself: Mi chiamo Giuseppe Guarino.  And he responded with a smile, Mi chiamo Giuseppe Guarino.  We shared the same name:

And after lunch, we made our way to the family homestead one more time, and this time, the residents were at home.  It turns out there are two homes, side-by-side, and I met some additional cousins:

The two men that reside at the family homestead are Antonio and Giuseppe Dattoli.  Their grandfather's name also was Giuseppe.  The four men in this picture, including myself, are all second cousins.

I showed them and their wives the family photo album, and there were more excited reactions.  They remembered my Aunt Theresa's visit in 1960, and spoke about how tall she was.  They were able to point to pictures in the album and say-- that was me, that is my father, that is my grandfather.

They were visibly moved.  They spoke about my grandfather, and indicated that letters had been received from him until 1959, but then the letters stopped.  I could not find the words in my limited Italian to tell them that my grandfather had suffered a disabling stroke which left him mute and paralyzed.

They each invited us to visit in their homes.  In each case, we paid a brief visit with them in their respective kitchens which were quite rustic.  I observed a ham (prosciutto) hanging from a hook on the ceiling, so it was evident they cured their own meats.

They then proposed we share a toast, and pulled out a bottle of Amaro Lucano.  As we were leaving, they headed to their respective freezers, and each cousin pulled a package of their cured ham and sausage as a parting gift to us.  I remembered the days of my childhood, when it was near impossible to leave the home of my grandmother without accepting food of some type.

On the way back into town, we enjoyed more scenic views.  Clearly, Vincenzo loves the mountains, and the peace he enjoys there; and he did not mask, for instance, his preference for his hometown over busy places like Naples:

In the center of town, we met Vincenzo's mother and also his elderly  aunt.  It was remarkable to see her negotiate the steep alleyways with her cane:

A couple of views of the piazza in the middle of town:

And a Guarino apparently operates an intimate apparel shop in the center of town:

We are very grateful to Vincenzo for his hospitality and for taking an entire Sunday to introduce us to relatives and show us the panoramic vistas of the Pollino mountains.  I am also grateful to Pino Golia at the Picchio Nero for making it possible.  It was a very meaningful, rewarding visit; and I hope to return, and maintain these relationships.

Acknowledgments and Pyrrhic Victories

The ancient Greeks in southern Italy around 300 BC feared the possibility that the Romans would be attempting to conquer them.  While the Romans admired Greek culture, and its presence on the southern peninsula, they were nevertheless in an expansionist mode.

A Greek King named Pyrrhus was summoned to meet this threat.  He was based around what is now the city of Taranto in the region of Apulia in southern Italy.  He gathered an army, and was assisted by a number of men from the indigenous populations in the south.   Together, King Pyrrhus, the Greeks and the southern Italians whupped the Romans-- twice.  But it was ultimately to no avail, because the Romans had exacted such a cost that Rome's takeover of southern Italy could not be prevented in the long run.

Pyrrhus, the Greeks and the Italians had won a couple of battles, but lost the war.  They  had enjoyed a couple of Pyrrhic victories-- and it all originated in the same region as Bari.

The term "Pyrrhic victory" is often used in various types of literature including sports writing.  But I did not know until recently its geographic origination.

I am now more than halfway through my Italy series. The background information contained in my posts comes from a number of sources, and I need to acknowledge them.

First, a number of knowledgeable tour guides throughout the trip provided ample information verbally. 

Second, some of the cities or attractions had literature or pamphlets that contained background information. 

Third, I used several tour books, including the Blue Guide to Southern Italy, Fodor's Italy 2007, and yes, even Italy for Dummies.

Fourth, I consulted the websites for some of the towns we visited.

Fifth, there were several books.  A general world history text I used was Civilization: Past and Present (Brummett, Edgar, Hackett, et.al.).

Another was Between Salt Water and Holy Water: A History of Southern Italy, by Tommaso Astarita.  This book provides a good overview and considerable detail.

Finally, there is a book I have mentioned on this blog several times in the past-- Under the Southern Sun, by Paul Paolicelli.   Mr. Paolicelli has family roots in Matera, and I have used his writings on Matera and other topics extensively.  Aside from the fund of information contained in the book, and the perspective it provides, it also proved to be very helpful for our visit to Amantea, about which I will post next week.

I will resume the series as soon as I can.   

Matera

We obtained our rental car and left Bari to drive to Matera. 

Even though it was a relatively short drive, this required entering a new Italian region-- Basilicata.  A couple of cities near the coast of Basilicata were an important part of Magna Graecia.  The coins for the ancient Greeks in Italy were minted in a city called Metaponto.  A mathematician named Pythagoras (remember the theorem from high school geometry?) set up his academy here.

But Matera was remarkable-- by far, the most impressive "tourist attraction" I have seen in Italy.

Matera is nearly synonymous with antiquity.  Mel Gibson was so impressed with that aspect of Matera that he filmed his epic film, The Passion of the Christ, in this city.  Portions of a more recent movie, "The Nativity", were also filmed in Matera.

Evidence of organized human civilization in Matera dates back at least 5,000 years or more, to the paleolithic era.  And human civilization has existed there continuously since that time. 

Matera has been described as the oldest city in Europe.  There was organized human activity in Matera long before the ancient Greek civilization, and long before King David (who lived around 1,000 BC).  Indeed, southern Italy-- and places like Matera-- are touted to be where Western Civilization began in Europe.

The city has been designated as a UNESCO City for Humanity.

This is how the city appears:

 
 

But what is most striking about Matera are the Sassi.  There are cave dwellings, carved into the sides of a deep ravine.  These had been inhabited since the Paleolithic era, until the government ordered inhabitants to leave during the 1950's.  A writer, Carlo Levi, had visited Matera and called attention to the abject living conditions in the Sassi.

My photos will view the Sassi from afar, but then get up close and inside the Sassi, even demonstrating how they were furnished.  They were extremely small living spaces that housed an entire family, often with 7-9 kids-- as well as their animals and livestock.  The tour guide described how they were built as "negative construction"-- which is really a euphemism for digging and pounding and picking away at tofu rock to create a cavity large enough to inhabit.  The vision of the inside of the Sassi to which we were treated is probably a sanitized one.  The second picture below demonstrates an incline going upward from left to right where Christ was depicted carrying the cross in "The Passion":

This picture below demonstrates the floor, including an apparatus that was used for heating.  But I am not sure how it generated heat.  There could be no significant combustion, because there was little means for ventilation:

Cisterns dug beneath were used to collect rain as a supply of water.  Even churches were dug into the Sassi.  In fact, Matera has what may be some of the earliest evidence of organized religious activity.  The walls of the churches in the Sassi had layers of frescoes, and here is one example:

Photographs cannot fully capture the impact of viewing the Sassi.  It was simply a surreal experience to look out over the ravine, to see the extent of it all, to witness how it appeared, and how it happened.

The government is plowing money back into Matera to rehabilitate housing in the old section of town-- and the Sassi.  Some areas are even becoming gentrified.  Young people are moving back into the Sassi, where refurbished units have modern conveniences.

Our tour of southern Italy will resume this weekend with a visit to the mountain village of Terranova di Pollino, where my paternal grandparents were born and raised.

Bari

We took a four-hour train ride from Naples eastward, and crossed the Italian peninsula to reach the coastal city of Bari, which is located on the Adriatic Sea.  Bari is part of the region called Apulia (or Puglia).  This region has become a major center of wine production.  A recent New York Times article on Apulia compared it to Tuscany, and suggested it was gaining popularity.  For a southern Italian region to receive this type of favorable attention has been unusual in the past. 

Famous Americans with roots in Apulia have included Sylvester Stallone and Rudolph Valentino.

Bari is one of the three major southern Italian cities.  It is of a relatively modest size, however-- approximately equivalent to Greensboro.  The city is very pleasant, clean and visitor-friendly.  And it has, by far, the best gelato we sampled in Italy.  We are told that the beaches nearby are very nice also.

Bari was a very important city historically because it served as the principal port through which trade passed between the Italian peninsula and Greece, Turkey and the Middle East during medieval times and thereafter.  It followed a similar pattern to Naples with respect to foreign powers controlling it, but for brief periods Bari was also controlled by the Goths, the Lombards, and the Saracens (Arabs).   During the Byzantine period it became a major capital.   

The other neat thing about Bari is... Santa Claus.

Below are pictures of the Castello Svevo.  It was originally built as a fortress during Byzantine rule, and expanded upon by the Normans.  But Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II, ( who had his hands in many things, including, as we learned in our Naples post, the 5th Crusade and the founding of the University of Naples), during the 12th century, rebuilt the castle:

A group of mischievous sailors from Bari decided to make a trip to Myra in what is now Turkey.  They stole the remains of St. Nicholas and his relics.  They brought these items back to Bari, and the Basilica of San Nicola was built in 1087 to house them:

We were told that, during the Crusades, it was common for crusaders to make a stop in Bari on the way to the Holy Lands, and stop at the Basilica of San Nicola to pray.  The Basilica has a dual affiliation with the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church, because Saint Nicholas is the patron saint of Russia, and is of particular importance to the eastern church.

Some street scenes in Bari include a couple of women engaging in the ages-old practice of making pasta by hand, in one of the alleys of the old city;

Arches and narrow passages in the medieval section of town;

Pleasure craft occupying the site where there was once a port of historic importance;

And a post where criminals were secured, to be humiliated and beaten by the local populace.

Occasionally, this type of Christian religious marker was found affixed to the wall outside some residences in the old part of town.  We were told this tradition replaced another previous tradition with displays amounting to ancestor worship.

We saw an outdoor miniature soccer field, enclosed by netting in a manner reminiscent of arena football, where locals could play, here and in one other city;

It is possible to see the ancient walls of the city in this picture:

Another piece of interesting historical trivia about Bari is with regard to World War II.  Shortly after Mussolini was deposed, the King of Italy scurried around the Italian peninsula as the Germans began to move in more aggressively.  Ultimately, the King set up his provisional government of the Italian nation in Bari from which to wage "civil war" with the Germans in the north.

My family in Bari, which includes my son David (left), my wife Joanne, and my son Michael (right).

We spent less than a day in Bari.  Our next stop was the remarkable ancient city of Matera, about which I will post next.

Pozzuoli

Pozzuoli (pronounced Poe-TSWOE-Lee) is a small town on the northern edge of the Bay of Naples.  It is now considered part of the Naples metro area, and is easily accessed by taking a subway.  It was formerly a fishing village.

We visited Pozzuoli because of certain circumstances.  My office in Reidsville is located directly across the street from an Italian restaurant, Carmella's Pizza.  This restaurant is owned and operated by the Piccolo's, who I knew were born and raised in the Naples region.  My family ate there recently, and I told Massimo Piccolo that I was visiting Naples.  He exclaimed that we should visit Pozzuoli, that it was his hometown, and it was beautiful.  Carmella's is our favorite restaurant serving basic southern Italian food in the region. My son loves the restaurant, and decided that he wanted to visit Pozzuoli.  So we took the subway ride.

The town is charming.  The subway station is at the top of a hill, and it is easy to walk down to the waterfront.  The town has a couple of historic sites to visit, and an interesting past.

A nearby ancient Greek town, Cumae, established Pozzuoli as a commercial post and colony around 530 BC.  It fell to the Romans in 338 BC.  It was an important commercial center, and in fact became the Romans' principal port for trading with the East.  Most of the grain that fed Romans at one time came from Egypt, and passed through Pozzuoli.  A local reminder of this time is the Serapeum, located in a public park near the waterfront.  It was a marketplace, dating back to the first century AD:

A more impressive reminder of the Roman presence in the area, however, is the Anfiteatro Flavium.  It is the third largest amphitheater in Italy, behind Rome's Colisseum and one other.  It was capable of seating upwards of 20,000 - 40,000 people.  Fights involving lions and tigers were the main source of entertainment.  A visit here allowed inspection of the ancient cells beneath that were used to hold the wild beasts, and the scaffolding for gladiators:

 

The building measures 149 x 166 m. St. Januarius was imprisoned here before his execution; and the emperor Nero showed his stuff here among the wild beasts in the arena.  It was occasionally flooded using nearby reservoirs to recreate sea battles: