Friday, July 21, 2017

Moving to Italy: Visiting Luigi—B



After the tractor passed Luigi’s car, we continued down to Gaminella, crossed the highway, and entered another uphill road. In contrast to ours, the road to Pozzengo was wide, well-graded, and best of all, it was paved! No skidding and spinning and swallowing screams. Except for the lack of elbowroom, the ride was pleasant, and I looked forward to seeing another family with children.  
Unlike Gabi, Pozzengo was a real town with many large and small houses, multiple streets, and shops. The children and I took in all the sights while George chatted with Luigi. When we arrived at a set of tall wooden gates, George got out to open them and Luigi drove through. Their courtyard was the same size as ours, but instead of gravel, muddy ruts, and chicken poop, theirs was a huge swath of clean concrete. I was impressed and excited to see what could be done; the only thing we lacked was the money to do it. As we exited the car Luigi, a wine merchant, pointed out their barns, which had been converted to a wine-making operation as well as a storage area for the wine he purchased from local vineyards. More on this later.
Luigi’s parents, and his wife and her aunt, came out to meet us. (Luigi's mother, Zia Dina, was the sister of George’s mother.) His two boys wandered in from a side yard. They were a bit older than Paul, and Luigi's baby daughter, carried in the arms of her great-aunt, was just a bit younger than Margaret Ann and Matthew. I experienced the usual blur of Italian words and double-cheek kisses as everyone was introduced, hugged and exclaimed over. It was impossible for me to understand anything  except "Ciao" when everyone spoke at the same time in excited, loud Italian, so I smiled and nodded and hugged and felt the warmth of their welcome. We were ushered into the house, and their tiny living room quickly filled as we crowded in. Even this very large two-story house had a small living room. This didn't seem out of the ordinary, and I wondered what had led to this custom of small common areas but huge bedrooms. Was it just in farm country or were the city houses like this too?
Theirs was an interesting household arrangement that George said was not unusual for those parts. Along with Luigi's parents, his wife's aunt also lived with them. We were introduced to them all, but while we sat and talked with Luigi, his wife, and his parents, the aunt kept busy in the kitchen cooking the meal we ate, and she cleared the dishes afterwards. At a pause in her work, she scooped up Luigi’s baby to change her diaper. I found it very interesting that the aunt acted like household help, so later I asked George about it. He explained that just as it was normal in Italy for elderly parents to live with their children, it was also quite common for an unmarried woman with no education, and no other prospects, to live with a young family. I thought it humiliating to be taken in like a stray dog, but George said it wasn't like that. The aunt was not a charity case. She enabled Luigi's wife to work with him in their business by taking over the burden of housework and childcare, and they had the comfort of knowing that the children were close at hand and well-looked-after. Not only was she fed and housed, but the aunt played a valuable role in Luigi’s household while enjoying the comfort of family life. It sounded reasonable. The aunt had a defined role that she seemed to fit quite well. (I asked if she was paid for her services, but George didn't know and wouldn't ask.) Although I couldn’t speak her language, I watched her carefully to see if I could sense any resentment, but she smiled often and seemed genuinely happy. One more puzzle on my quest to understand the differences between our cultures.

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