A Time with Nonna

Come along with me to a time and place that was a long time ago but as the saying goes - it's like it was only yesterday. Come and smile with me, you might even recognize some aspects. If not, discover some things you never knew or heard about. For some it's all relatable. For others, who knows.

Some context -

I was a day student in the late 60s to mid 70s at Notre Dame International in Rome, from grade school to graduating from high school. It was a school mostly for children of expats, both those stationed in Rome and for those in Middle East with the major oil companies at the time. In the latter case students were primarily boarders. With these set of circumstance this diverse group of students share a similarity in that our lives was basically centered on our immediate family because everyone was just literally "far away" from what would have been "home" in terms of roots. It wasn't era in which people would get on a plane to visit places as a vacation or a family visit, it just wasn't quite for the masses yet. In the years I was there my classmates and school friends hardly ever mentioned anything about their grandparents. Some would see them sporadically during home leaves, but other than that the concept of an "extended family" wasn't part of any our discussions and recollection. I was in even smaller niche since the only living grandparent was my maternal grandfather and at the time I had no idea who he was even though I met him at least once. Just to complicate the picture even more, I was a Thai kid who was born in Rome and aside from a home leave visit every two years, Thailand was really a far away land which was both alien in culture and language.

Francesco and Giulia

Giulia and Francesco. Two very common Italian names. Giulia was how you would imagine a typical Italian aunt or zia, somewhat portly and always ready with a broad smile. To my eyes as a 10 year old, Giulia wasn't middle aged but more along in her years, sporting plenty of gray hair. If she wasn't smiling then her face would certainly show the deep linings and rough skin. My earliest memories of Giulia was her being at our home to take care of me when I would come home from school on some days and Mom had to be elsewhere. I have no idea for how long or when, only that early in my memory she was replaced by some other woman that I really didn't take to too much. Her cooking certainly was no match to Giulia's. I gathered that Giulia couldn't come any longer because of logistical reasons or other impediments, but not because she didn't want to. In those days a housekeeper or a babysitter didn't go around with a car, possibly public transportation but that depended on many factors. Most likely and more often than not it was a walking commute, a hardship in many respects. Even if Giulia didn't come, I knew she wasn't too far away as Mom would be on the phone with her quite regularly and although I really didn't listen in, I'd say it was like a mix between close friends, sisters talking, or at some moment like Mom was talking to someone who could have been her mother, a daughter seeking advice or confiding. Indeed Giulia was years older than Mom, probably by at least by 20 years.

Francesco, Giulia's husband, was a simple and unpretentious man. He had a generous heart but the dark clouds of painful memories were never too far. My curiosity at times were painful to him as he wanted to avoid reliving difficult memories. They lived on the nearby San Saba hill during the second world war and he must have been quite exposed and surrounded by what was happening as the German army administered Rome and the local resistance fighters, partigiani, instigated many counteroffensive, what we today would call street fighting and local terrorism. It was both ugly and terrifying, and Francesco always remain visibly shaken by the memories. He would repeat - brutto, troppo brutto - ugly, very ugly. Simple words, but spoken viscerally with trembling hands and fallen shoulders in despair. I wonder what he would think today if he were alive to see the a world turned upside down, and haven forgotten the lessons of war.

He must have worked as a manual labour chaffing at physical chores - every now and then he would nurse his heavily calloused hands even if he had now retired for some time. He had a typical craggy look you would expect and at times he would look somewhat frail as if he had been carrying a burden for ages. He wasn't one for a lot of words but he would say what was on his mind. Somehow it was easy to sense that Giulia and Francesco had been together for a long time with all of life's ups and downs.

Over the years I came to piece together a little more about Giulia and Francesco. Both were originally a working class family with Giulia originally from the Naples area, Pozzuoli to more precise, but she must have moved quite young since she had a distinctly Roman accent.

Roberto was the name of their eldest son and he died in a road accident, while crossing the street as a pedestrian. Such a death is always tragic and the pain for Giulia and Francesco was forever evident. Every week they would visit his grave. In this tragedy, in what I would consider unusual and atypical for Italy, they did receive compensation for the wrongful death. This allowed them to purchase a home, an apartment to be more exact, that was of recent construction in a neighborhood nearby to Testaccio, a well known area of Rome. While this changed their well being completely, it was no real joy with the loss they felt every day. The had another son and daughter so life still went on. So presumably, while early Giulia needed to work as a housemaid and helper in general, their fortunes changed somewhat.

The friendship and affinity Mom had nonetheless continued and was reciprocated. If an evening babysitter was needed, Giulia was the only person Mom trusted.

Giulia the Babysitter and Much More

During the course of a year, my folks did have some occasions where they had to attend events, mostly at the Thai Embassy, and I couldn't go. I would really look forward to these times because it meant Giulia would babysit me and it would be at her place. My folks would leave me with Giulia at 5pm and generally would pick me up again at 11pm. I got to have with 6 hours with Giulia.

You would think I'd be bored. Maybe, but they would really turn out to be very special occasions. At the time it was just fun, but when you're a kid, these are the experiences that in some way shape your views and reference points later on in life.

Giulia and Francesco were simple people from a hard working life as one can imagine. Giulia clearly took the trust that Mom had in her seriously. But maybe even that was a natural consequence of who she was. Giulia was warm, bubbly, and would hug me as much as you could with a teddy bear. She would pinch my cheeks, as only an Italian nonna can do with firm fingers, not harsh, but that exuded warmth and love so difficult to describe. It was visceral and so natural. Of course as a kid I would wince in pain but probably exaggerated by several factors. It was always the first greeting and it would instantly remind me that I had just stepped into another world. Giulia would be dressed in a well washed floral pattern dressed and it would be covered with an apron as she was in an out of the kitchen all the time. At times she could feel like she was an aunt I didn't really have, but most of the time it she was more like nonna in bearing. Her greying hair and her portly appearance went beyond that of being matronly. Her demeanour was closer to that of a nonna doting on a grandchild. And maybe so it was without her being conscious about it.

Rigatoni

First order of business was to feed me. Giulia knew exactly what I wanted, She had already prepared her ragù sauce with a style somewhere between Roman and Neapolitan. Meaty and with tomato sauce closer to that of today's amatriciana. When the time was right she would put the rigatoni short pasta into a large pot of suitably salted boiling water. It would be served piping hot with the ragù and pecorino romano grated cheese. She knew I would go for seconds and maybe even a third helping. It wasn't something I ate at home since Mom cooked other dishes. This remained a Giulia speciality in my world. The abundance of the pasta is exactly what you see in films depicting Italian family affairs and even more so of the 60s and 70s. While the rigatoni would have been enough Giulia still had a simple roast to offer if we go by Italian primi and secondi. I'm sure Giulia and Francesco made quite an effort to make the evening go this way because most Italians have a heavy lunch and fairly light dinner. This was the opposite.

Their Place

Their place wasn't large but enough for their needs. An apartment of the 60s in Rome was quite different in layout and feel from the current fads of open space and work from home. There was a proper entrance and hallway albeit just large enough to make its functionality clear. The kitchen was actually a room and generally had good sunlight exposures as Italians spent a greater time in the kitchen. A small dining room and living room would be adjoining spaces although they were actually separate. The dining room was my playground although it felt more like an adult affair. Dinner was set there and it was a family moment - surrounded by loved ones. The cast of characters was complete with a real nonna, Francesco's mother. She looked 90 but was probably pushing closer to 100 at the time, small and with the fragile aspect you could expect. She could move from one chair to a sofa with a well practiced shuffle. No walkers at the time although I think she did have stick. Most of the time she was in the armchair looking at the television which was only a black and white broadcast, exactly how she was dressed. Italian widows at the time remained in black forever. Nonna didn't exactly speak as she would mumble, point, or nod. She had false teeth and they kind of fitted loosely but this didn't exactly hamper her appetite.

I never knew what she really thought of me as we never spoke. Maybe we feared each other. Me because she was so old in relative terms and black can menacing. For her maybe a young kid could be too demanding. In the end I think she took her cue from Francesco and Giulia. Seeing that they liked me, that they poured their affection and interests, nonna accepted me. The dining table wasn't large so nonna and I were quite close while Francesco and Giulia took turns tending to her needs as she need help using the spoon at times. For all intents and purposes they became my Italian family for the evening.

Dinner wasn't a long affair so once the table was cleared, we would settle in for the rest of the evening. I never brought toys with me, not because I couldn't but simply because I didn't play with toys living like an only child, as my brother was already away at college. I read and did other things to keep my interest. With Giulia and Francesca toys were far from my mind. As they didn't have grandchildren and the son and daughter were grownups at the time, they too didn't have toys to offer. It wasn't a problem. I simply joined in with them on whatever their evening entertainment was going to be.

The black and white TV was there but in the 70s Italy's programming was basically only one channel and so you watched what it was whether you liked it or not. Watching what was the only broadcast was a cultural past time as the following day people would comment what they had seen (everyone saw the same thing) and it was just perfect for the Italian way of discussing anything from every imaginable angle, and at times it could be a heated discussion just for the sake of debating a point.

Scopa

The first program of interest of the evening was the evening news but in Italy this was 8 pm so after dinner it was still a little early.

The deck of cards came out.

Cards yes, but they were a deck of Italian cards, and historically card playing was regional, each with their own card types and the rules themselves. Giulia had the Neapolitan ones which are similar to the general Spanish type. Quite colorful drawings of figures. They were a deck of 40. Playing meant choosing game rules that would work with the cards we had, and we could do different ones depending if we played as two or three since four hand wasn't possible. So I ended playing the quintessential Italian card games of Scopa and Briscola. Not exactly children fare, but who cared. Maybe Nonna may have liked to join in but it wouldn't have worked. Card playing is always fun but playing with elders takes on a different spin. Italian card playing isn't mechanical or just rules, like the rest of Italian ways, it was rather animated and could get loud at times. So between gestures, faces, and sounds, it became a real dance. I felt treated like an adult. We played for the fun and to pass time.

Colonello Bernacca

8 pm and evening news would start. Any household with a TV probably tuned in and it probably was also dinner for most. Aside for the daily newspaper, which was the previous day's news, this evening news was the only way to hear about the most recent aside from using a radio during the day. As a state run TV service, news was supposedly politically. I was too young to know if this was true or not. Didn't really matter. Every single word was of interest. Of course Francesco and Giulia would have a running by commentary as there was always an opinion to add. The funny thing of Italian TV programming was that like Italians who sometimes respect road laws vaguely or depending on situations, the schedule was more of a suggestion rather than a punctual timeline. The evening news could run anywhere between half hour to 45 mins, just depending on the news and how the service ended up being assembled. The funny thing though was that people actually tuned in at 7:55 pm because Colonello Bernacca, the father of Italian meteorologists, would be on with Il Tempo in Italia to provide the weather forecast. He was truly an institution. Using Yahoo weather doesn't quite compare even if it is probably much more accurate.

Being a state run TV programming meant that it wasn't commercial and wasn't funded by sponsorships and TV commercials. Indeed there specific laws and regulation prohibiting TV commercial to disrupt any programming. This provided the context for one those interesting programming that has ever existed on TV, anywhere. It was called Carosello and was especially created to get around the restrictions, a very typical Italian mindset. It actually ran for four decades and was incredibly successful becoming a mainstay moment for almost everyone. Carosello was basically a specific TV program that was a container with specific requirements for the four available segments for total of 10 minutes overall. Each segment was basically an episode telling a story kind of like a very short film or theatre production. A minute and half was available for this. Then the last 30 seconds could be dedicated to a product promotion but there were stringent constraints on how many times it could named, and so on. Furthermore the introducing episode had to be completely unrelated to the product. It's amazing to note that many can remember memorable episodes or the story line introduced (sometimes with characters) and at the same time the product that was then covered. This tells how good the script and productions were. They were also black and white. Carosello was like a TV series, musical, theatre, and cartoons all rolled into one. Every evening it was on. Some segments were new and others were like continuing episodes in a saga. It became part of how Italians identified with the TV medium.

After Carosello came the main part of the TV programming schedule. This was the hour most kids were put to bed, but in this case I was going to be wide awake for the next experience. Over the years I was probably over at Giulia maybe ten times which is not a whole lot, but some nights are more memorable than others.

Time for Nerds

In particular there was period in the early 70s that on Thursday evening the main programming was Rischiatutto which today is instantly recognizable by all, including those who never saw it let alone not even been yet born. Loosely translated it's "risk it all" and it was quiz show that took its cue from Jeopardy although it followed an entirely different format. Mike Bongiorno, the dean of all Italian host shows, ran it for five seasons. It wasn't questions based on trivia, they were really tough questions based on the participant's area of knowledge. In some ways it was like a show made for nerds, but Mike turned it into entertainment with everyone glued to the TV. We would root for one or the other contestant not for any logical sense but simply how they came across. We didn't like those who obviously were intelligent but arrogant at the same time. In the end, we were also entertained by learning something knew on a subjects that were unusual. By the time the show ended it was around 10:30 pm and my thoughts began to turn towards my folks coming by to pick me up. It was way past my bedtime. Well it was too for Francesco and Giulia as they would begin to yawn a little more frequently. We tried some cards but I guess our minds had already gone to bed. TV had little to offer as the day's programming ended soon enough as it wasn't 24 hours. We just bided time until the doorbell would ring.

These evenings were so different from my usual routine. It was an entirely different world in many respects, but one where I felt comfortable. I soaked up everything they said or talked about. Any comment they had on what we saw on TV became a part of how I understood things were to be seen and what was good or bad, or what's right or wrong. Giulia treated me like she would have done with one of her own, and I responded accordingly. In many ways it provided me with a bridge between being born in Rome, breathing the Roman air, while not being Italian by descent, but still having an affinity with what Francesco and Giulia gave me.

While it would make sense to see Giulia as a zia , an auntie, I prefer to remember Francesco and Giulia as my adopted Italian grandparents. Not much time together in the grand scheme of things, but enough to be the finest example and forever part of me.

The end? Not quite.

Eight Years Later

In 1982 when my folks decided to make the final move back to Bangkok, it was a decision that was done fairly quickly. Dad had already retired for some years and really didn't have friends you consider as close and dear. Mom, on the other hand, knew lots of people but Giulia was probably the closest she had in her daily life in Rome for many years. They would call each other regularly and Mom probably confided in her as well. It was a fleeting thought at the time but I did think it was strange that there wasn't an occasion where Mom and Giulia said goodbye as you would expect between close friends. Didn't think much about as I minded my own business. I assumed Mom did give Giulia a call to break the news, but in hindsight maybe Mom didn't have the courage or it was just her way to deal with the move. Years laters when I settled back in Rome for work my folks came to visit in 1990 and Mom ask me if I knew if Giulia was still alive and if I could take her for a visit. This was still an era when mobile phones still had to make their appearance. On a Sunday after lunch we drove to Giulia's apartment and we rang the doorbell downstairs. I guess if you're not expecting someone and the doorbell doesn't have a videocamera, then the only way is to look down from the balcony to see who's ringing. Surprise. Maybe a scene like Romeo and Juliet, and while it wasn't, the emotions that flowed between them in that instant was infinitely palpable. Giulia was screaming in delight as only an Italian can and Mom was speechless with rivers of tears. It wasn't a long visit but the embraces were warm and tender.

It was a moment of simple forgiveness and righting a wrong.

This post sets the stage for an extended musing sequel- A Name Who Art Thee, Home Where Art Thou.