the check to you-typically a really bad tipper)
• Sono nato stanco percio vivo per riposarsni (I was born tired, so I live to relax—an aphorism I have very much taken to heart in my own life as my badge of honor)
• Se una donna per sbajlio mette il suo vestito al rovesceio, per quel georno tutto lva male (If a woman puts her dress on the wrong side, for that day everything goes wrong—I assume a man could wear a dress in any manner without ill effects—well, maybe)
• Si crede di prendere il prete perla barba (If you think that you can touch a priest by his beard—this loses much in the translation, but basically suggests that if you are waiting for something great to happen, do not; it is not going to happen or what happens will be small—sort of a precursor I think to the modern day lottery experience)
• Ne di Manzo ne di Maggione, none ti levare il pedizoine (In March or May, never take off your heavy underwear— linked to the crazy Italian weather in March and May)
• Tutte le pecore vanno alla chiesa a portare I soldi al prete (All sheep go to church and bring all the money to the priest—it is a ridicule in that people are called ‘sheep’)
Is there still more? Yes, there is more! If the superstitions and proverbs did not overshadow family living, then “folk”
remedies aimed to maintain our good health and ward off enemies of the family further stewed the pot:
• Rubbing garlic on your chest to cure a cold (and drive away your friends)
• Wearing garlic on a string around your neck (or many women pinned it to their bras) keeps you safe
• Curing a cold by warming up bricks in the fireplace and then placing them between two pieces of wool—these were placed upon your chest to keep you warn until the cold went away
• Picking flowers called Comomila (looked similar to dandelions) eased a sour stomach by placing them in a pot of water to brew and then drinking the hot juice
• The cure all of cure alls—a teaspoon of olive oil will cure just about anything, genuine or imagined.
The ultimate folk remedy for a sick person or to keep a person from becoming ill in an Italian family was the Evil Eye. When my grandmother determined that it was time to practice the ritual, she insisted that you drop immediately anything and everything that you were doing. This remedy involved placing a bowl of water on the unfortunate person’s head. She then placed three drops of oil in the water and a small prayer was spoken three times: “Rotta e finochio, Leva il malochio.” My grandmother continued the ritual while the oil in the water remained visible. If the oil drops dispersed, your sickness was thought caused by people wishing you bad luck. In essence, it was a method of determining whether your illness was caused by the ill wishes of others or by the common microorganisms of the day. It must have tarnished the friendships my parents fostered as they were in a state of wondering which friend or friends among them were wishing them ill will. On top of all that, imagine trying to explain to your playmates why you called time-out in the middle of a game. Having to pee was not only a better excuse, but a face-saver as well. Fortunately, my parents did not continue the practice and this gypsy ritual died with the death of our paternal grandmother in May 1971.
If all the home remedies and cures did not ward off bad luck or sickness, my father’s faith did—not in Catholicism as you might have thought to a good Italian, but in the leading evangelist of the time. From my father’s perspective, I could not always tell whether the Reverend sat to the right of God or God sat to the right of the Reverend. In the 1950s the Reverend celebrated his healing ministry on weekly television. At 9:00 a.m. (Indiana East time) each Sunday, the evangelist stepped into our living room as the five of us sat quietly in front of the television. He ended each service the same way by asking the home viewers, like us, to touch the television screen, as he prayed for our healing. Our family did as he requested at our father’s insistence. And there we were with our five hands pushed flatly against the television screen. I often thought how our whole family could have been incinerated in an instant by a well-timed electrical storm. However, we were spared for some reason obviously for some greater mission. Father brought us to see the evangelist in person at the local Coliseum. We were herded in line like cattle by our father and waited for several hours. The Reverend eventually appeared and placed his hands on our heads in passing. Father seemed happy—at best, we were confused and a trifle bored.
Growing-up Catholic and Italian also presented many rituals, ceremonies, and festivals whose essence impacted on our family life. Most festivals celebrate the feast of a patron saint of a city or town. When the feast of the saint is upon us, a great procession is held in the city with the townspeople carrying a statue of the saint through the streets of the city. All the windows are decorated with the best-colored blankets. All the young girls of the city wear white dresses and follow the procession scattering flowers through the streets. When the procession is over, the people return home to dinner, music, and dance, especially the Tarantella. This is an old dance that reminds the elderly of the city of their earlier days. The remembrance is brought about because of the old style of the dance.
In another celebration, the Easter period is filled with many activities. Beginning with Palm Sunday, all the children dress in their best clothing and prepare for the days activities by constructing a large palm. This was accomplished by holding together many small palms or branches of the olive tree. After the palm was constructed, the children placed homemade ornaments such as cookies and chocolate eggs on the palms. They then brought their palms to church and had them blessed during the Mass. After the children returned home, they placed the blessed palms in their bedrooms usually behind a picture of the Blessed Virgin Mary or Jesus, and kept them there until the next year. At that time, they are burned and replaced by new palms.
On Holy Thursday, the people visited all the churches in the city—my mother had 7 churches in her city—to see the sepulcher where Jesus laid. The sepulchers were made of mosaic or colored rocks. Mosaic rocks and flowers are also used to celebrate beautiful sceneries of our Lord’s passion and death.
On Good Friday, the maceleries—stores in which only meat was sold—are the view of the city. The best meat, especially lamb, was displayed in the window decorated by much greenery and flowers waiting to be sold on Holy Saturday.
On Holy Saturday, people gathered in Florence, Italy to see one of the largest processions, which included many city officials dressed in old style costumes. The procession went to one church after the other all through the city.
On Easter Sunday, millions of people gathered in St. Peter’s Square in Rome to hear and see the pontiff give his papal blessing. My mother took part in many of these ceremonies in her birth city of Carrara.
The city of Viarreggio was famous for another procession, the Viarreggio Carnival. Throughout the month of February, people came from all parts of Italy to enjoy a historical procession that included floats, great flower displays, people dressed in costume and masks, and dancing in the streets. This carnival is much like Mardi Gras in New Orleans.
The city of Venice also celebrated a similar carnival except that it is said the festivity was much more beautiful because it took place at night. A parade of gondolas with multicolored lanterns are loaded with food, musicians, and people who all enjoy themselves by eating, drinking, and singing through the Grand Canal. The carnival, which lasted all night, also included a display of fireworks. The next day, the Regata, a race between two gondolas, took place. It was considered a sport and included prizes of money and flags of the city. There was also a main prize: the Trofee Marciano, a trophy that became a permanent possession of a three-time winner.
