Napoli Bound

Another restless night of sleep and an early-morning internet session to upload pictures for the family and friends back home to see. The jet lag has really had an adverse effect on my resting, but the excitement is another possible reason for the sleeplessness.

After an early breakfast in the hotel restaurant and packing a small bag for the next two days, Vito picked us up to take us to the Formia train station for our journey to Naples. With tickets, bags, and camera in tow, we said our goodbyes to Vito who gave us warnings about carefully protecting our belongings on the train and in Naples.

I had never been on a train for lengthy travel anywhere so this was another first to log on my bucket list. Riding the train through the countryside was very interesting. The train moved much quicker than I realized and the windows had a bit of a fog on them, so photographs were not possible.

I was surprised at the flat farmland that was nestled between the mountains to our left and the sea to our right. There were farmers tending their fields and greenhouses (hothouses in Italy) were very numerous for the entire journey.  Winding around the Gulf of Gaeta from Formia to Scauri, our first stop, was more rural than I had imagined. The second stop was in Minturno (where Jessica and Anthony were living). After this stop, the farmland was much more abundant, but you could still see the mountains in the distance.

We eventually approached a tunnel that was deep into a mountain. When we appeared on the other side, the train stopped at a town called Mondragone. Vito warned us that this was a very bad town for crime and to be especially careful here. In fact, I had already stowed my camera and had no intentions of showing anything valuable near this town. Next stop – Aversa.

Approaching Naples, I was surprised at two obvious facts: 1) the large number of apartment buildings, and 2) the excessive amount of graffiti on just about everything. It disappointment me very much to see this graffiti everywhere in such a beautiful country. I was saddened that this was the homeland of my family and that it had been neglected and abused in such a way. I wondered why the government of the country, region, and city would allow this to tarnish a country that is one of the most visited in the world for tourism. Vito had explained that the countries financial crisis had been hard on its people, but why could they not put people to work to clean up the obvious destruction of such a beautiful land?

Napoli Centrale (Naples Central Station) was our next stop. I was amazed at the convergence of train tracks all into one area for people to board and debark to and from their destinations. And I was excited to meet our family from Naples.

When we left the train, we walked for about 50 yards on a platform between tracks toward the main terminal. I had never met our Naples family, but Mark had. He recognized Luigi and Antonio Boccia, our cousins, from a distance and they recognized him. We greeted with embraces and kisses on the cheeks as Italians do. It is uncomfortable to do as they do when you are not accustomed to it, especially with strangers (even family you have never met), but having been in Gaeta for a few days prior and experiencing this ritual made it easier for me.

Antonio speaks English very well. In fact, he teaches it in the Naples high schools. But Luigi does not speak English at all. However, with Luigi I was to find out, you always know how he feels by his hand gestures. I had always heard that Italians used their hands to express themselves. It’s true!

We gathered our bags and proceed out of the crowded station to Luigi’s parked car across the street. Cars were “sandwiched” into the parking lot much like in American lots, but these were all compact cars and much closer. Our bags, small by our standards, barely fit into the trunk of the car. And traffic was horrendous, but Luigi seemed undaunted by it all. If he was mad at someone cutting him off, he simply held his hand, palm up, into the air as if to say “What the heck?!” And the driving was awful with no attention to lane markers, no etiquette, no right-of-ways, and no manners. But this is how I had been prepared for Naples drivers. The best way to describe the traffic and driving habits is mass chaos that works. Everyone is jockeying for their best position with pedestrians and scooters darting in and out of whatever open space exists. You have to be aggressive or you will be run over.

Our destination was the hotel that Luigi had arranged for us to stay in for the next two nights. We stopped in front of bar (remember that a bar is more than a bar in the United States) and got out of the car. The hotel was through the bar and in the back. I was skeptical about our safety here, but Mark had stayed at this hotel previously and I had to trust that this was OK.

There was a discussion with Luigi and the attendant in the bar that made Luigi a bit irritated. It seems that they only had made the reservation for one night and not two. Luigi left the bar and left us standing on the street. He told Antonio he would be right back. He drove around the corner and we had no idea what was happening. But while we were standing there some immigrants from Africa were standing on the street and I felt very uncomfortable being there with all of our belongings for the two-day trip.

Within about ten minutes, Luigi returned and loaded our bags into his car. We drove around a couple of blocks to another bar similar to the first with a hotel in the back. I still felt the same regarding our safety, but was reassured we would be alright by Antonio. Apparently, having a hotel in the back of a bar or other businesses in Naples is quite common.

We left our bags there (except my camera) and got back into the car to go to the Boccia residence. The drive was only ten minutes away, and was much less stressful with less traffic in the suburb of Pomigliano d’Arco where they live. We parked on the street in a space that was not much bigger than their car and walked into an apartment complex that was about eight stories tall. To get to their apartment there were two options: 1) six flights of stairs, or 2) an elevator big enough for only two people at a time. We took the elevator in two trips.

The elevator was right across the hallway from their apartment. We entered the nicely furnished apartment into a foyer between the kitchen and living room where we were met by Gianna, mom’s first cousin. She also spoke very little English, but knew a few words as she was taking a class to learn. Gianna was a kind woman that greeted us with hugs and kisses, and then quickly returned to her cooking as she was making dinner for our arrival. She told us in Italian (translated for us) that “the heart of an Italian family is in the kitchen and that is where she was happy.” She was celebrating her 66th birthday the day we arrived in Naples and I honestly felt guilty that she spent it cooking for us. Giuseppe, Antonio’s brother was at work at the Napolina pasta and sauce factory where he is a quality control inspector.

For about an hour before our dinner we toured Antonio and Giuseppe’s room and the rest of the apartment, and then had conversation about our trip and Naples with Antonio on the balcony. We saw all of the Napoli futbol team souvenirs (swag) they had collected and talked about their love for their favorite team. For dinner, Gianna had made a beef, rice, pea and tomato sauce casserole, Italian sausage with spinach, bread, and of course wine. Dessert was sfogliatelle.

Giuseppe also came home from work and had some dinner. He is thinner and resembles Luigi, where Antonio is more like Gianna. He has a happy-go-lucky personality and loves sports.

After dinner, we received an unexpected visit from mom’s other cousin Sabatina (Tina) and her husband Guglielmo Maltese who brought another tray of dolce for all to share. When I say unexpected, I mean that Tina and Gianna were not exactly on good terms with each other over a family dispute regarding Tina’s health (we were told she was a hypochondriac). She suffers from aches and pains all the time but looks very healthy.

Guglielmo was full of life and seemed very happy to see us. His personality is such that he probably has never met a stranger and if you were, you weren’t for long. He was funny and showed us “magic” tricks with a napkin that was hysterical. This called for video, not just still shots. But the reunion would soon take a turn for the worse.

It was not hard for Mark and me to figure out the conversation that ensued between Tina and Gianna, and then Guglielmo, even if it was in Italian. We sat speechless, motionless, as we watched and heard them argued about Tina’s health. Some parts even brought tears to Tina’s eyes and shouting from Guglielmo. We listened and watched for almost an hour, with Guglielmo saying the most, obviously standing up for his wife Tina’s position in the argument. And then, like in Italian families in America, they all hugged and on the surface everything seemed fine. We exchanged gifts with everyone, said our good nights, and then Luigi and Antonio took us back to the hotel for the night.

I had hoped to sleep well, but next door was a loud African immigrant who was on the telephone yelling at someone on the other end. Mark and I discussed the events of the day, particularly the argument we had witnessed a short time before. Eventually that stopped and we drifted off to sleep, albeit a restless sleep.