Moiano: My grandfather’s Hometown – 7.3.2010

Milena and I arrived in Napoli in the afternoon on Friday by train. My first impression as we waited in the station and just outside of it was dirty like most big cities in America. From there her father, my father’s cousin, picked us up and drove us through the scenic landscape to Moiano. As we left the center of the city of Napoli I could see bags of trash strung all along the streets. It fulfilled my expectations based on what I had been told. The car ride was different than any other ride I have had in Italia. Definitely there is no defined lanes or speed limit and mountains every where. In time I began to see more wide open green fields with some run down areas and ruins that were obviously not taken care of. We drove through a few small villages as they call them before we arrived in Moiano. I could not see much of it but rows of trees lining the street before we were out and on the other side of the village in a minute. My relatives live just outside of it in something like a duplex except instead of side by side they live one floor and the other residents occupy the other. What a gorgeous view no matter what window you looked out you would see the surrounding mountains. Just like one of my professor said Southern Italian relatives are known for feeding family lots of food. As soon as I entered the house after greetings they began to serve me food; prosciutto, pane, pomodori, mozzarella, and coca-cola. That night I went to another nephew of my grandfather’s house. That is where I met Roberto, my grandfather’s brother, for the first time. There was a feeling of a nervous comfort with him. His eyes, stature, balding head, and my favorite feature the smile were the same as my grandfather. We did not spend more than half an hour because we had to eat, but we parted knowing we would meet up again the next night. Before the pizzeria we stopped at Mobili Orapallo, my relative’s furniture showroom. It is large with a couple of levels of mostly modern furniture and accessories for the kitchen, living, bedroom, and bathrooms. Clemente told me it was because the Italians prefer modern to traditional styles. His store reminded me of my mother’s brother, he has his own showroom in Dallas just with many different styles and designers. Of course the pizza was delicious in a quiet rustic restaurant. When we got back home we all sat on the couch sipping hot tea in our pjs by the fire in their cozy kitchen. Just before bed I was able to talk to my parents for the first time by phone, not skyping, since I arrived in Italy. It was the perfect way to end the day, go to sleep dreaming about my family. I wish they could have been here. Everyone was asking about them and how they are all doing. I can’t wait to come back with them and hopefully my grandfather. There is no way to put into words how happy that would make me.