This is the second in a series of posts recapping my trip to visit family in Italy through the notes in my journal. You can read the first post here. The notes have been edited for clarity, and to avoid making you want to drive an ice pick into your eye.
Day 4 – The Flight to the South
Time to fly to Calabria! Rome is the first airport I’ve seen that had a “how was our service” button after security. Their service was, accordingly, excellent.
When we arrived, our baggage took 30 minute to come down the chute. Then, we learned there was a miscommunication with family, meaning my uncle had to stay back and wait for a ride. Three hours later, we were all together again.
Meeting my family in Italy for the first time in 20 years was a surreal experience. In my eyes, they all looked exactly like they did 20 years ago. And similar to how it was when I first met them back then, I couldn’t find the right words in Italian this time around, either. They just wouldn’t come. I could understand them just fine, but when it came time to respond, I couldn’t think of the words. The biggest challenge was this: how do I show my family my personality when I can only wield the most basic of words in their language?
Nevertheless, our first day in Calabria was an incredible experience. I got to tour the property and pick figs and prickly pears with my family, who seems to have forgiven me for being such a brat 20 years ago. Thank god.
Day 5 – The First Trip to Grotteria
Today was our first full day in Grotteria, the small village where my great aunt lives. My other great aunt made us cappuccinos in the morning, but they were so sweet that we weren’t able to taste anything! We politely finished them off, but resolved that next time, we would be upfront about the fact that we prefer our coffee the same way they do: black and untarnished by additions.
After breakfast, we went shopping at the local mall. My brother found some nice clothes, but nothing I tried on fit me. How is that the case even in Europe?!
After returning home for a quick lunch, we left to visit our great aunt. It was so nice to see her and the old neighbourhood. All at once, the memories I had from this place when I was 10 came flooding back. There was the place we would gather in the streets at night playing cards. And over there is where I used to play hide-and-seek with the neighbour’s kid. We would hide even on people’s properties; everyone knew everyone, and it was ok there. I can’t imagine that ever being the case back home… everyone keeps to themselves, often treating their neighbours as enemies, when it should so plainly be the other way around.
At my great aunt’s, we were showered with mozzarella, gelato and other goodies, and it was almost too much to take in. How do you process a situation where your aunt, at 81, is pressing all manner of food and drink at you while her son speaks at 100 miles an hour in a dialect you can barely understand? Still, chaos born from love is better than order born from solitude any day of the week.
After dinner, two of my uncles on my grandfather’s side of the family stopped by to meet us. Pepe does an awful, but hilarious, American impression, and he used it to great effect to fool his sister on the phone. After a few games of Briscola with Davison (he beat me 2-1), we went to bed. I’ll win tomorrow!
Day 6 – The Beach and the Tennis Showdown
We scarfed down a quick breakfast, then headed off for the beach. We bought flippers, and it was a good choice. They came in handy in the sea, go figure! With my mask, I saw a few fish, and nearly touched a flounder before it jetted off into the distance. Then we dried off, throwing a Frisbee around while Davison arranged a tennis match between my brother and a local friend named Vincenzo.
We laid around the house and read a bit after lunch, then headed out to watch the tennis match. It was a blast to be at a tennis club, on real clay courts, in Italy with my family. Adam won his match handily, and was challenged to a rematch on a later day.
On the way home, we stopped to visit my Zio Pepe’s beachside home and grab my mom and uncle, who spent the day there. He took me out into the fields to meet his horse, and to pick figs to take back to the family. Along the way, I nearly accidentally fed all of the figs to his horse, who looked only too keen to take them off my hands.
We walked back to his house in silence. There is so much I want to say to him, and it’s so frustrating not to be able to find the words. I’ll have to practice until I’m able.
To be continued next post…
