I went to Italy for the first time in 1995. The experience was both eye opening and mind boggling as I had my own ideologies regarding the real "Italians" from the homeland and how different from those living in North America.
So at 32, I ventured alone to the homeland, with hundred of stories that my father had been filling my mind with since I was a child.
I traveled quite extensively in the northern part of Italy, which is beyond description. Being a lover of ancient civilizations, I walked the streets of Rome, visualizing and sensing all those that walked the same road I was now on.
I kept asking myself, how many horses galloped along with Caesar's army? What strength did the women walking with baskets upon their head have as they transported water or food and the children that played on these streets what games did they play?
As one travels from ancient Rome, to the beauty and splendor of a Renaissance city like Florence with its architecture, art and light, to the incredible beauty that is Venice which must be seen by everyone at least once in their lifetime, one is only filled with pride and joy that in some small way one is a part of this culture.
The place that felt most like home were the streets of Pompeii whereby as I walked along the ruins I felt I was there, in another lifetime. Perhaps a vendor selling fruit, maybe a street walker selling her wiles, or bartering goods in the market. All I know is the depth of emotion that encompassed my entire being is something I had never felt before.
While travelling south 2 things are forever etched in my mind and that is the fertile ground that vineyards and olive trees come from.
I have never seen anything more beautiful than an olive tree. When the sunlight falls upon the leaves they appear to be silver and one cannot help but be grateful for this abundance in beautiful Italy! As are the acres and acres of grapes that become fine wines all over the world.
The train from Naples took me to Termoli (a city which is about 20 minutes from my father's hometown of Guglionesi) which is situated along the Adriatic coast in the region of Molise and his stories flooded my mind and several times tears came to my eyes as I reveled in being a part of this wondrous place.
I would soon be at my zia's house, see cousins I had not seen in over 20 years, meet their spouses and boyfriends and children and know that we all come from the same "pasta".
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