Wednesday mid-morning at a bus stop of a small Welsh village.
It might be raining today.
A couple waits for the bus. I'm waiting too.
He pulls out all the coins from his pockets, shows his handful to her and starts counting:
5, 10, 50...1,32 (pounds). If it were Liras it would be like 2 million Liras!
She smiles at his mockery.
I turn my back to him cos I'm rather laughing.
The joke's good. 10-years late, but still good.
Would he have said it if I had known an Italian was listening? Could he imagine that an Italian could be there, at a bus stop of a village of 2000 inhabitants on the South-West Welsh coast?
 |
| 100,000 lire with Caravaggio. (= more or less 50 euros) |
Well, Italians are everywhere. In the latest 5 or 6 years, Italy has gone through an consistent outflow of people. I have no idea how many, nor if they've been counted at some point. Some stay just for an experience of a few months, some push it to one year length or maybe two. The longer you stay the hardest it is to come back.
Then there are those who will never come back.
Between the end of XIX cent and beginning of XX cent., Italy suffered big waves of emigration, with a spillage of millions, mostly from Southern Italy and Veneto (the North-Est region with Venice as capital). Most of them were directed to the Americas, a very long journey by ship across the Ocean. There is an old popular song that is quite representative of the times. It's called "Mamma mia, dammi cento lire". (Italian lyrics: http://www.italianissima.net/testi/mamcenl.htm - Some words are dialect, actually). A daughter (yes, it's a woman!) asking her mother to give her 100 Liras - a loooot of money at the time - to go to America. Mother doesn't want the girl to leave because it is dangerous but her brothers convince the mother to let her go. On its way to America the boat undergoes a shipwreck. Mother appeals to Fisherman to rescue her daughter's body. The poor emigrant thinks of her fine and red blood that will be drunk by fishes and her white and pure flesh be eaten by the whale. Her mother's words were right and she regrets having listened to her brothers.
It's a very sad song.
Especially if you think that at the time people were escaping from famine.
Today's migrations are of another kind, mainly high-educated people looking for a space in the job market or better opportunities for work - all the conditions they couldn't find in Italy. These people are the more likely to not come back.
It is quite an issue to decide to leave the confort of home and, let's say it, the confort of Italy. Because Italy is fucking confortable. Sometimes it is just too much.
It is quite an issue to decide to stay in Italy despite everything, and sometimes against all odds. Because Italy is fucking complicated. Sometimes it is simply too much.
Wherever you are now, wherever you come from, whatever reason you have for leaving or staying, you're experiencing the same compelling feeling that leads you to take a decision about starting a life somewhere. If you changed country and you're happy, good for you. If you're living in the same country since you were borne and that's what you want, very good.
If you haven't find a place in the world yet, well... welcome into the club, I'm a member too.
Nomadism is as hard as any other decision. It can be tasty but there's no earth you can cling to.
In any case,I know it's easy to make fun of Italian culture but, wherever you find yourself at, watch out cos you'll never know: There always might be an Italian emigrant nearby....
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