Ritorno in Italia
The dream of every person who migrates to another land is to one day return to domestic shores, after having obtained success in the foreign country, and revisit the sites and experiences of yesteryear. The people, places and feelings left behind have haunted the migrant through the years of absence, so curiosity and emotion bring him back to his native land to relive the past in the comfort of a more prosperous and secure position in life. I go back to Italy now and then and every time I do I find that the country is changing rapidly.
Of course not everything; for example, some habits peculiar to the old country remain, such as the small food stores emanating old familiar scents, the pace of life slower than bustling America, especially in the small towns and those bells ringing from the local steeple in the main piazza which sadly announce we are only pawns of fate.
And here is the solicitous smile of the old folks at the caffé who wave their hands and proclaim to you: “Bravo, sei tornato a casa!” The little details of old Italy still beckon to you but change is at hand: the local Internet shop is run by Pakistanis, and the Chinese restaurants are sprouting here and there. The little children sitting at the border of the large fountain spouting water from a stone statue are holding small colored cell phones to their ears and sending God knows what personal messages to their peers.
The landscape is changing too: large malls have been built, usually at the outskirts of towns, with enormous parking areas surrounding them; it is interesting to see the cunning system used to avoid the scattering of shopping carts: you need to put a Euro coin in the slot to remove the cart. To get you money back you must reinstate the cart in the proper stall.
Inside the mall you find everything under the sun, from fresh produce to clothing to restaurants. Shopping in such structure affords great variety and perhaps value, but I miss the colorful exchange with the vendor, the small excitement I used to experience in getting a special cut of meat or choice fresh fruit.
I console myself by driving back to the center of town and feasting on fresh croissants (cornetti) and a cappuccino made in heaven (creamy foam mixed with strong aromatic espresso). The old folks complain: “You see how expensive fruit and vegetables are?” “Son tutti ladri”, they are all thieves!!!
And the influx of foreign immigrants seeking a better place in life has lit up prejudice and distrust. Was I despised in the same way when I landed in the USA? I don’t remember being antagonized much, but then I was educated and I did speak decent English. Many of these immigrants entering Italy come from dirt poor conditions in their country especially those from Africa or some parts of Eastern Europe.
I see them clustered in the parks, in Milan, Parma, Venice or Rome. They carry ghetto blasters and they shout at each other in their incomprehensible language. Some have kids who go to Italian schools and speak Italian; they are now integrating a lot better than their parents. Some of them populate the factories in the North and fruit and vegetable farms in the South, handling physically hard jobs, the jobs Italian young men avoid, and some live close to or in the midst of crime. This invasion is taking place all over Europe and the landscape of the old continent is undergoing drastic changes.
Most of the resentment of the local population comes from those who feel that the Christian religion is being subverted. When America was invaded by the large mass of immigrants in the 19th and 20th century the people streaming into American cities were the Germans, the Irish, the Italians, the Jews. Their religions were connected to the main fiber of America; even the Latinos now pouring in are Catholic.
But Europe is facing a large influx of Islam, and Islam has been for century the despised enemy. In Italy it is too easy to recall the bitter rivalry of the Islamic Turks for the control of the Mediterranean. The villages of southern Italy adjacent to the sea were built or moved to high grounds where the marauding Turkish pirates could be spotted before they would siege and destroy the small Italian towns.
The Italians are watching with alarm the construction of mosques and the presence of veiled women. One can only hope that a process of friendly coexistence might diffuse some perceived hostility. An old friend complains: “They are requesting that Christ on the cross be removed from the classroom, because they say their children are spooked by a naked man dying and nailed!!” He adds:” In their country they do not allow building of Christian churches, and they come here to change our way of life!! “
What is the Italian scene going to be in a few decades? I sincerely hope that we can teach our children the great privilege we have been bestowed by fate, of a country excelling in art, inventiveness, wit and taste and that the achievements of our beautiful, blessed country of origin will be preserved for history.
