October 2008

Naples

those of the early '90s. I was little, I do not remember how old I was. My grandfather was still alive. We had rented a vacation home in Mondragone, along with my father's sister, her husband, and indeed my grandfather. My mother was so That young man was reading, if anyone still remembers it. He sent me aedicule front of house to buy newspapers and the Harmony of puzzles, but they were especially for me. We still had puppy, maltese dog of my childhood, able to free ride five seconds in a bowl of ice cream Cassata, leaving intact all the candy. On the beaches we are still games like Street Fighter, or imitation, the coin-operated machines with those tires round and colorful, and the jukebox.

The resort, in the family, was traditionally made in Caserta. Our only resort was just in Mondragone, but in the summers preceding and following ones, often on the weekends we went to Castel Volturno, aunt of my father, who rented a villa on two floors that we, children, it seemed huge, with those high ceilings, giant cobwebs in the corners, resulting in size and spiders, the terrace and the garden where we ran games doing that now do not even remember. My aunt rented every year, the umbrella at the Lido Scalzone, always the same. The water was dirty, and after lunch we always had to wait before we could travel back four. I remember days on the bike with my cousin, I sat behind the luggage rack, running around the garbage of the city in search of cans of Coca-Cola with the flags of participating teams at the World Cup. Now I also remember the year 1994. On the beach the jukebox transmitted not love me, Zombie The Cranberries, Four friends, that piece chain disco-country-Joe tamarissimo something, and, through my own dime, turns the ball Felice Caccamo.

I have a vague memory of other friends of mine, who instead had a vacation home in Green Bay, or Bay Domizia, I forget. Not too far, in fact. Even then, the street called Domitian had a certain reputation, and I heard about almost censorious, I should not feel too much. Perhaps the area of prostitution, stuff too strong for my baby's ears. It was August, I was hoping to questions about the shooting stars see one, never knows what to ask then, I do not think there was already a girl in my thoughts at the time. There was the television at Naples, in a summer tournament, with Juventus or AC Milan in the middle. Maybe there's already talk of moving to the north.

One evening, when we resort to Mondragone, we passed a dead man on the street, and police around. My mother, as always in these situations, I think he told me not to look. I remember that telelgiornale broke the news the next day, a bit 'in passing, referring to biker killed by a stray bullet. I remember very well the expression stray bullet, literally, for the pun now vacant Naton bullet. Napoletanizzato talk more now, and I thought "scamazzare" word was very Italian. Jocelyn was on television in the afternoon with a quiz with calls from his home, and the evening was Mai dire banzai and Bathing Beauties , or a similar title, with former player Schnellinger between conductors . Raf went on the radio with that song title from the long ( Are we alone in the vast emptiness that is ), and perhaps with Leone di Lernia I do not know what nonsense. My World Masters were the toys that I brought with me, ice cream, slides. My uncle Frank was sleeping with my mouth open, and it made me laugh in the car would always listen Italian songs of the Sixties ( Your kiss is like a rock , Tied to a grain of sand , twenty-four thousand kisses , Taste salt , The sky in one room). We also launched always away at sea, in what was called lu 's bomb Saddam Hussein ; often I almost drowned in some ditch too deep for me. I never learned to swim. But my uncle has been enriched by the pizza fries.

When we left Naples and its suburbs, was for work and not work. My father, after the failure the company he worked, he could choose between layoffs or absorption in the Italian Post Office, a place to state so, but with the transfer. I remember well that he often talked about emigrating to Australia, so he had no trouble accepting the transfer to the North. Bologna, before ending a period in which I saw only on weekends, a time when he was asleep by the priests, in cheap hotels, or car (l 'Hotel Duna of a holder of Resto del Carlino ). Then I do not know how it ended in Piacenza, and it was there that we all moved. I took the transfer with such enthusiasm, dreaming that I had new friends, eager to see new things. I was not yet been touched by the disease Leopard (came soon after, in the north, or perhaps better with adolescence). I was not yet thirteen. I

Naples magazine occasional events: Christmas and New Year, the year after our move. Then only weddings, or funerals. In thirteen years I went there four or five times. It is now half of my life that I spent away from Naples.
points of my villaggiature a child, however, I did not see each other again. I read them in the chronicles, associated deaths, massacres, to a spiral of blood and blood for this indifference.

often think back to Naples at this time. When I read the newspapers. When anyone asks me about Gomorrah (the movie). When I read that Saviano wants to emigrate. When someone tells me that he found Gomorrah "ugly," he raged. Those places, those people, I have glimpsed as a child.
My father, then, is Secondigliano. To go home to my grandfather always walked past the sails. At that time, however, the lost children of my relatives could be at most drug problems, or petty crime, such as contraband, or stolen furniture for resale marketplace. No one I know has ever challenged a gun. I wonder if they would grow in those neighborhoods today could really avoid it, or not. That mentality would have. And I also wonder how I grew up I if we had remained in Naples. How would grow my brothers, who attended normal school at Ponticelli, while I was sent, although there were not even the means, the nuns in the center, and slept at my grandmother's house. I wonder how my parents would grow, when my mother emigrated to the north, for example, was thirty years. It was not obvious what would become the forty it is now. Under my house organized street racing cars that I saw running from the window, and the park in front of the house, shortly after being inaugurated was the area reserved for drug addicts, and found syringes on the ground much more than I've ever seen in my life then.

The first time I was migrated to ten years. I emigrated from the elementary school I attended a private school at Ponticelli in Naples of the same name of a prison, Regina Coeli. I emigrated because of the bullies and my character prone to rage furiously, and on the advice of the masters. Then I emigrated in Piacenza, with my parents. Recently I moved to Paris, which is not emigrate Piché is a choice, but it is another departure. Naples has changed, and I dare not come back and watch. I keep my memories warm bass where old clothes that seemed nailed to the same chair has always turned television and the smell of cooked sauce with nzogna from the kitchen. I keep too many negatives, but everything is relativized. At that time it seemed normal that my mother asked me to go and buy cigarettes from smugglers down the street, I had nine or ten years. I went in the fifth grade and some of my classmates already had smoked a cigarette, others, repeating the thirteen, came quietly to buy just finished school. My height was always the object of scorn and derision and the source of theft of a backpack, which was then flown out of the hands of a companion to those of a another, with which I jumped pathetically, in between, without ever being able to achieve.

arrived in Piacenza in one day in October, days before a pchi Piacenza-Napoli 0-1 solved from a free kick by André Cruz, I saw the curve of Galleana from behind the door. In September, my mother first enrolled in ninth grade in the class of our wretched suburbs. I think I took them (often without reason), and dates in those three weeks than in the rest of my life. Survival. In class looked at me as a sort of thing funny, nerd who does not speak Neapolitan, who has made the school by the nuns, a small, bespectacled and shy. Then I met when I showed to know all the players Series A, and to be able to hit the ball fairly kick. I did do well in class, and I was not pulled back, the ball in the air, I gave my acrobatic show by bouncing the ball against the walls of the classroom. But then kicked me in the balls out of school, from complete strangers, who avvicinvano a pretext whatever, to me they launched the coup, and then fled on a motorbike.

do not know why I remember it all. It will be that of Castelvolturno, Domizia Bay of Naples, Gomorrah, he talks so much during this period. It will be that when it comes to leave, from Naples, Italy, I feel involved, and I can not understand. Then I see videos like this , and I grieved, and I think now is a world too far from me, I can only remember the good things and what's rotten I've seen and experienced, or that I understood and that will always be far away. It is no longer the Napoli of Maradona, Pino Daniele when he was still singing the blues in Naples, of Troisi, the first election of Bassolino, then dashed hopes of many. Yet adda step 'to Nutt, even for my poor Naples.

The Time Of The Cathedrals ~

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