Showing posts with label nonno. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonno. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Earthquake/Terremoto: Fragments from Calabria


Earthquake. Terremoto. It’s in my blood. As far back as I can remember earthquakes have been part of my family’s lore from Calabria, Italy. 

When I first heard of the devastating earthquake in the Abruzzo region of Italy in April 2009, my heart stopped. The first beat it missed was for family and friends who might be in harm’s way. The second beat it missed was for the people who lost everything including their lives. And in place of the third beat my heart missed was a replay of all the stories of terremoto that have passed through many generations before reaching me.
 
In the years following the Abruzzo earthquake there have been equally and more devastating quakes: Haiti, Chile, China. Images of lost lives and landscape circled the globe. Today marks the one-year anniversary of the worst of recent quakes, the death of over 300,000 in Haiti.
 
With each subsequent quake, the fragments of earthquake stories handed down to me surfaced. Here are some of those fragments.
 
Grimaldi in the 1600s
 
In the early 1600s a powerful earthquake destroyed Grimaldi, the Cosentine village of my nonni. In southern Italy, tens of thousands of lives were lost. In Grimaldi, the oral tradition says, only five families survived, including my ancestors. According to the story carried by my Nonna, an old man came to the town and sat on rock. He told the remaining families to rebuild Grimaldi in a new location and they would be saved from future devastation. After this proclamation, the man suddenly disappeared. The story claims that this old man was God (Dio) sent to save them with his message. If you’re from Calabria, who else could it be.

In 1638, the original "Grimaldo" was destroyed by an earthquake, and the town was rebuilt in an area known as “Chiata” (from where the district "'mpedichiati" developed, meaning literally "at Chiata's feet"). In 1639 the rebuilding of the original Grimaldi began ("vecchio Grimaldo").

Source: http://dic.academic.ru/dic.nsf/enwiki/3165462
The survivors built a new Grimaldi in the shape of a cross. You can still see the basic cross shape, which has bloated with more modern developments. Here’s my photo of Grimaldi in 2008:

Grimaldi

February 1783

A hundred years after rebuilding Grimaldi to the specifications of Dio, the people of Grimaldi were saved from the 1783 earthquake that killed over 80,000 Calabresi. 

In 1934, my Nonna Elvira wrote the 1783 earthquake story recited to her by her nonna Caterina (who was really her great-aunt, but that’s another story). What I found interesting from my nonna’s story is that her nonna recited it in Calabrese but because Nonna Elvira hadn’t been taught how to write Calabrese in school, she translated it into Italian. Was that because of Unification (1861) and the introduction of an “official” Italian language? I’d love to hear your wisdom on the demise and resurgence of the written Calabrian language(s).

Here’s an excerpt from Nonna’s translation about the destruction of the many towns around Cosenza during an icy February, and the salvation of the Grimaldesi. The story is over three pages long and reads like a poem or a prayer:

Che terrore, e che gran lutto,
Fra i ghiacci de febraio.
Oh! Iddio, che cosa amara, e che malanno
Mura, e travi, a nostro d’anno
Contrastava cosi forte
Che vidiamo la morte e noi d’avanti
E Cosenza con i tanti
Case e torre del suo valle
Senti quel triste ballo con gran duolo
Ne quel pianto, ne fu solo
Rende, Donnici, e Marano,
Paterno di Pigano, e Mendicino
Cerisano del la vicino
Caroleir, Casello, Franco
Dal cielo era quasi stanco, aveva distrutto
E per questi luoghi tutti
Da vicino, e da lontano
Non ce paesa sano afatto afatto
Ma Grimaldi e tutto sana
Financo da lontano, a da vicino,
Che divina maraviglia
Di quei nostri cittadini
Trovati a quei confini si salvarono
E il miracolo contrarono...
The story lists places destroyed by the earthquake, except Grimaldi “e tutto sana” -- it’s whole. For a crude translation, go to Google translate.

The 1783 earthquake changed the landscape of the south, cracking open its shell and producing hundreds of lakes. The violence of the earthquake itself was not the only killer. Tens of thousands died from malaria in the years following the quake. I like to think that’s partly why we’re short, brown people and not tall blondies. 

1905: Boyhood recollections from Bocchigliero
 
In 1965 my great-uncle Charlie wrote a wonderful memoir. I’m lucky to have a copy, which is one of my cherished possessions. Uncle Charlie was a young boy in Calabria when the earthquakes of the early twentieth century hit. Here’s his 1905 boyhood recollections from Bocchigliero, another of my ancestral villages:

“I can still remember quite vividly the earth tremors in our home town.... Most of the people in our town were ordered to vacate their homes (including us) and we camped out of town in a large orchard for more than three weeks. ...there were many houses in our town with extensive damage....”

Strait of Messina, 1908

On December 28, 1908, a massive earthquake struck Sicily and Calabria. As part of his military service, my Nonno Joe was sent to the earthquake zone to help with the rescue efforts. He earned a medal for rescuing a woman trapped beneath the rubble of her destroyed home. The estimated death toll for this earthquake was as high as 200,000.

Here is Nonno’s medal along with an excerpt of the accompanying paper work: 

Medaglia commemorativa. Terremoto Calabro-Siculo. 28 dicembre 1908.


The Italian video below marks the 100th anniversary of the 1908 earthquake:


These are a few of the earthquake fragments that make up my whole. More to come.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Anniversary


Nonno Joe & Nonna Filomena married in Bocchigliero (Calabria, Italy) on May 1, 1915. I've been thinking about them a lot as my own parents pass wedding milestones. Here's an excerpt from their wedding registration:


"L'anno millenovecento quindici, il giorno primo del mese

di maggio, alle ore pomeridiane quattro e minuti venti,

in Bocchigliero, nella casa posta in Vico Manca."


Check out this family portrait from their 50th wedding anniversary in Canada.


While Nonno & Nonna are long departed, their descendants gather annually for a cousins' party. The family portrait -- now trying to contain over 100 cousins -- is a staple of the party.


Sunday, June 21, 2009

Happy Father's Day


On this Father's Day I'm thinking of my nonnos, the two fathers who brought their families from Calabria to Canada for a better life and unknowingly gave me two lands where my heart and soul dance.


Nonno Joe was born in the late 1800s. It makes me pause: I know people who were born in three different centuries. We may be the first generation to make that claim. 


Nonno set out for the USA on his own when he was barely a teenager. I can't imagine the strength needed for that journey in a time before mass communications and transportation. How would WE do it without the Internet and our cell phones? Nonno was resourceful enough to make that trip several times. Returning to Calabria to marry and emigrating with my nonna and their Italian-born children.



Nonno Joe

Nonno Tony arrived in Canada at mid-20th century with full family in tow. Even then, they left knowing they'd never see mothers, fathers or siblings again. And no text messages, no tweets. I was lucky to know this Nonno who lived into his 90s. His grapevines are in my back yard and his lemon tree is in my living room (this is Canada). 


Nonno Tony

I will write more about their journeys. Today is for a simple remembrance of the fathers who brought me here.


And happy father's day to my dad too.


Dad

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Italian Groundhog Day


"Quattro Aprilante, giorni quaranta" was a proverb I learned from my Nonno T. My grandparents knew many, many proverbs and whenever I asked they would recite them, all strung together, usually challenging each other as to their accuracy (that's a polite way of phrasing their typically loud Calabrese interactions). 


"Quattro Aprilante, giorni quaranta" is literally April 4, 40 days. It means that whatever the weather is like on April 4th, is what it will be like for the following 40 days. I think of it as Italian Groundhog Day. I know nothing of its derivation but I suspect it's Italian and not regional to Calabria or our southern villages. For Nonno, it didn't have any meaning in the new world, Canada. It may have been more important when they lived in the old country and had to tend animals and plant crops. 


In my part of the world, today is sunny and the first day the sun has shared its warmth along with its brilliance. I'm taking this as a good sign that spring is here to stay.




If you know anything about this proverb, I'd love to hear your wisdom and your stories.






Monday, September 29, 2008

Siamo arrivati!

Well here we are, back in the motherland, arriving on Nonno Tony's birthday... he would have been 97. It was amazing to hear Italian again. We arrived at our apartment quite late but still had time for cornetti from the 24 hour place next door. When my alarm clock went off at 8:00, I hit the snooze to try and overcome the jet lag. But then the Roman wake up call started: hammering and drilling. So, good morning Rome! Off to find espresso and fresh fruit!

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Ritorno a Roma

In a week, on what would have been Nonno Tony's 97th birthday, I arrive in Rome for the start of my "roots" trip. We've been planning this for almost 10 months, not expecting the turbulent year it has turned out to be. I haven't prepared enough for the "roots" part so I am open to more unexpected encounters and adventures. However, until I'm on that first plane, I'll be fretting about mundane things like which foundation garments to pack.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Chic-a-let Gum

I was sampling a new long-lasting gum today, which reminded me of my Nonno Joe. He used to carry a green box of spearmint chiclets in his shirt pocket until he died in the early 1970s. The gum was for him, not for the grandkids. I loved the box because it had a cellophane pane and when the box was empty we would blow into it and make squaking sounds like a bad kazoo.

I’m not a huge fan of the new long-lasting gum. I like my gum to wear out before I do.