I walk down narrow streets
in my dream
passing strangers who resemble people
of my youth
the faces so familar
it is as if my uncles/aunts are here
huddled in conversation
politics and sports
though the talk here is of football
not the Brooklyn Dodgers
our hearts broken with each loss
our hearts bouyant with each win
and those damned Republicans
on the loose again
here the talk is of a loss of freedom
the high rate of taxes
what to eat for dinner
and time to drink one’s coffee in peace
the shrugs of shoulders
the helpless hand gestures
I know this world
so far from my own
and yet is my own
it is like looking
in a mirror
I have not felt so Italian
until I walked these streets
of Naples
my name not so musical
until I heard it here
I have not felt so at home
until I closed my eyes
and took in the scent from restaurants
in the air
of these streets
here
in my dreams
being Italian
on the Italian character: for Pasquale Galiano
So I’m talking to Pasquale as he’s driving me to the village my great grandfather lived in and where my grandfather was born and we’re talking about driving and his sister Gilda who is a special person in my eyes. We both agree she terrifies us and I admit to holding on to the side of the car while my life flashed before me as she swerved in and out of NYC traffic cursing everyone else on the road.
Then the subject of her stubbornness came up and I said being stubborn was part of the Italian character. Pasquale objected to this and said no, it was just Gilda. Then I asked him if he was stubborn. He shrugged (another trademark of Italians) and said of course. So I said my point exactly. Then he countered with it’s a family trait. Then I said of my family, too, and of every Italian family I’ve ever known. Every Italian I know is stubborn which makes it a characteristic of Italian people.
A stereotype, I know, but one which bears fruit, as they say.
Another shrug, a smile on his face, and he concedes the point. Italians are a stubborn people. There may be other ethnic groups that share this trait with us, but no one is as proud of being stubborn as an Italian. It’s so ingrained in our character that we don’t even think we’re being stubborn when we’re being stubborn. We think the other person is just being unreasonable.
And, of course, they are. Right, Pasquale?
the face of Italy
so I see this cannoli in the window
and instantly think of my grandmother
saying something in half Italian half English
about desserts and espresso
so I buy the pastry to eat while walking
and the kid selling it to me says
you have the face of Italy
which probably explains why people keep stopping me
to ask for directions
there’s the same shrug of the shoulders
the same sad eyes in a smiling face
in the people on the street
and for dinner
it’s linguine with baby clams
sausage and broccoli rabe
homemade red wine in a ceramic jug
water with gas
and I’m home
Naples
I’m home
Leonard Durso 