There's a high respect and importance placed on children and the love of children
here. I was impressed when one of mymale
friends described to me the joy that a
baby brings into your life. And you can see the manifestation of that joy
everyday by the crowds of mothers, grandmothers, or nannies waiting outside of
schools to pick up their children. In the pleasure the mother has in
pulling her child's schoolbag on wheels while the offspring contentedly eats a
snack or talks about the day. A grandmother bringing her grandchildren on
the bus, allowing them validate the tickets and coaching them on proper
etiquette, "say excuse me."
And to
some extent, importance of love for children is codified. One of my
friend's job offers was rescinded after her employer found out that she was
pregnant. Illegal in the US, absolutely, but now she is a content
stay-at-home, proud mother of two. Boh.
A cross stitch pattern informed me when I was 8 years old that "Love makes life more bearable." Fast forward 26 years, the quote on this piece, still unfinished, rings true. On Sunday, I went to the L'Artigiano in Fiera (Italian food and craft festival at Milan's expo center). In the Campania section of the expo (the region where my great-grandmother was born), an acoustic guitar duo began to play a song at the booth next to where I actively searching for the best meloncello to bring home to a few friends and family. A small crowd began to gather and grow, almost like iron filings to a magnet. The tune was catchy. I soon stopped sampling and started tapping my foot and singing along with the others during the chorus, "oje vita, oje vita mia."
Properly called " 'O Surdato 'Nnammurato", A Soldier in Love," this heart-warming song was penned in 1915 during World War 1 in Neapolitan dialect. (The lyrics are below). The passion this soldier has for his love and his pining for her really comes through. My heart swooned when I heard Bocelli perform this. And just seeing the gusto of the song being sung in the 1957 film, La Canzone del Destino, fills your heart. Although Bocelli's rendition is popular, Anna Magnani's performance in the 1971 film, La Sciantosa, is well-known, and it's also the name of the 1983 musical comedy directed by Nini Grassia. But above all, I think this song encapsulates a key insight to Italy: the importance of love. Love is something to be inquired on, supported, and celebrated. Everyone from taxi drivers to market vendors to building supers will inquire on your status. On the cab ride to Centrale in order to catch a bus to the airport to go to Paris, I made the mistake of responding to his question whether I was visiting my boyfriend by saying let's hope I can meet a boy. Then a whole deluge of questions followed, what? You don't have a boyfriend? No. Then I went into make-up-a-story-about-past-loves-or-current-crushes mode. But there is a fine line to walk though. Once, I was approached after Italian class while unlocking my bike. This man dressed in a proper African attire asked me if I was a White African because the colors I was wearing reminded him of colors he would see back in his home country of Cameroon. No, I'm not from Africa. Then he asked me if I was married. I was ready for this question: yes, yes, I'm married. I thought this would halt all conversation. My get-out-jail free card. Nope. Then he asked me if I had kids. Oh, no--I wasn't ready for this question. No, we don't have kids yet. Panic began to sink in. A pit in my stomach. Then he wanted to give me a pair of these miniature glass turtles which I could put in our window facing a certain way to help our fertility and help my imaginary husband and I get pregnant. He put the turtles into my hands and asked for a donation for some children in Africa. I kindly refused that I had no money on me, which was literally the truth. While it didn't work here, this approach does work with the Egyptian vendors at the markets. You can get away with making up an imaginary husband or boyfriend without having to delve into talk of imaginary children. I had been asked out for coffee too many times before employing this tactic, because no, it's not possible that you came to Italy alone. Which is the case for a lot of people that I've met, both male and female, who, in fact, came to Italy for love. I did come for love...for love of Italy.
Love is a central theme and is the seemingly all-important quest in many Italian movies. It's this cultural assumption, group collective goal to be reached.
You turn the radio on, and the song is mostly likely going to be a love ballad.
While all is fair in love and war, Italian singer, Tiziano Ferro, says that "l'amore e' una cosa semplice." Love is something simple. And I wonder if in times of distress, such as in war, are we forced to boil things down, simplify and prioritize better to realize what is in fact important to us? And maybe are Italians just more honest with themselves and in touch with that facet?
It is in these hardships, in fact, where love comes into play and makes them more bearable.
Italy is a country of love in diverse ways. From romantic love to love of family and friends. Love of children, pets, the beach, the mountains, fresh air, and flavorful food...and of great importance to many in Italy...love of your football team. It is, but, how to live. So what song do you think Naples supporters sing at the end of a victory? Yup, you guessed it! This is from the end of a match against Chelsea, 21 Feb 2012; Naples won 3-1. The entire stadium is singing it. That's love.
'O surdato 'nnammurato English translation:
O SURDATO 'NAMMURATO THE SOLDIER IN LOVE Enrico Cannio
Staje luntana da stu core, Though you are far away, a te volo cu 'o penziero: I fly to you in thought. niente voglio e niente spero No wish, no hope have I ca tenerte sempe a fianco a me! save to keep you near me forever! Si' sicura 'e chist'ammore My heart, as you know, is yours alone, comm'i' só' sicuro 'e te... and I know yours is mine.
Oje vita, oje vita mia... Oh life, oh my life,
oje core 'e chistu core... oh heart of this heart, si' stata 'o primmo ammore... you have been my first love... e 'o primmo e ll'ùltimo sarraje pe' me! the first and the last you'll be for me!
Quanta notte nun te veco, For how many nights have I not seen you, nun te sento 'int'a sti bbracce, nor held you in my arms, nun te vaso chesta faccia, nor kissed your face, nun t'astregno forte 'mbraccio a me? nor pressed you to my breast? Ma, scetánneme 'a sti suonne, I wake from dreams like these mme faje chiagnere pe' te... and cry for you.
Oje vita, oje vita mia... Oh life, oh my life, oje core 'e chistu core... oh heart of this heart, si' stata 'o primmo ammore... you have been my first love... e 'o primmo e ll'ùltimo sarraje pe' me! the first and the last you'll be for me!
Scrive sempe e sta' cuntenta: Write ever and be happy: io nun pienzo che a te sola... I can only think of you... Nu penziero mme cunzola, One thought comforts me, ca tu pienze sulamente a me... you only think of me ... 'A cchiù bella 'e tutt' 'e bbelle, The most beautiful woman in the world, nun è maje cchiù bella 'e te! is never more beautiful than you!
Oje vita, oje vita mia... Oh life, oh my life, oje core 'e chistu core... oh heart of this heart, si' stata 'o primmo ammore... you have been my first love... e 'o primmo e ll'ùltimo sarraje pe' me! the first and the last you'll be for me!
Having the chance to escape Milan for a weekend and visit a friend in Paris, I was prepared for all things French. I expected to be swept into the gaiety of Renoir's Dance at Le Moulin de la Galettee, indulge in a melt-in-your-mouth fresh buttery croissant, and feel the sorry and joy sung soulfully by Edith Piaf. Of course I expected to come across Italian pizzerias by which I would just keep on walking. I was in France; I was there to experience the French culture. After taking in Rodin's evocative and life-like statues at the museum he founded before his death, I was perusing through a guide on his work in the gift shop when I learned that almost all of his significant pieces, the most-popular ones, The Thinker, The Kiss, The Three Shades, The Gates of Hell...were all inspired by and based on Dante and his Divine Comedy. Escape Milan, a possibility. Escape Italian culture--never!
For more details on Rodin's pieces, the captions are linked to their respective pages on Musee Rodin's site.
