Why Calabria?
Waking up to bright sunshine and warm breezes is in fashion here in Calabria these days.
The weather has been what can only be described as picture perfect. Each day, the blazing sun ascends the
height of the sky, coaxing young and old towards the sea for long walks or frolic on the beach, or warming those
who are laboring beneath their olive trees.
In beach towns, fresh paint is being applied to lido concessions and men armed with rakes are removing the
last vestiges of plants and debris washed ashore in winter storms. Fishing boats that have been winched up
onto the sand are being scrapped and painted in bright colors while balancing precariously on their slim keel
beams.
Young friends meet on the beach to do whatever they do.. seems like a lot of chasing followed by long
discussions, then more chasing.. ..somebody will end up in the sea.. In a few minutes they are wrapped in a
beach towel and back to their routine. Intrepid fishermen and women often wearing wet suits and hats to keep
the sun at bay are beginning to line up along the shore ocean fishing, each with several long poles firmly
planted into the sand next to a five gallon pail for their catch. The seniors are even walking barefoot along the
shoreline splashing in the sea foam, practicing what will become a summer routine.
Here, along the Ionian shore in Calabria, the quality of life must be measured with a different kind of ruler. An
early morning walk through the park or bustling local mercato is looked on with anticipation. On market day it
seems like the whole town turns out to see the new offerings from clothes and house furnishings to fresh fish,
flowers and fruit from the local farmers.
Admittedly, sometimes my decision to spend time here is based on a desire to get far away from the incessant
barrage of partisan politics and the issues that are so divisive back home. It is tough for me to accept that our
military uses most of our oil, and has an open check book, but our states are broke, our roads need repair, and
social benefits are… well, you get my point. To be sure, the class war that is taking place in the U.S. is not lost
on the people of Calabria. Purtroppo, here, they lost that war long ago. Here too, people face real economic
issues and must get by on less across most every economic dimension you can imagine, and for sure struggle.
But they seem to do it together.
I guess my true answer if there must be one, is that I come here to live a simple life among the people of my
village, and on meeting, greet the many friends that I have with a handshake or hug. Anibale and Antonio at
the gas station, Aldo at the edicola, Concetta and Lucia at the tabaccheria, Domenico, Francesco, Andrea,
Fiore, and Pasqualino at their bars and coffee shops, Vicenzo and Patrizio at the grocers, Giacamo at the
Insurance agency, Antonio and CheChe at the car repair shop, Raffaiello the gommista, Tony who fixes
computers, Domenico and Francesca our first acquaintances here, Pasquale the village statesman and
philosopher, Giueseppe and Chenzo, who built our house, Nicola and Rina who always make us laugh,
Vincenzo who lets me pick olives with him, and his wife Rossa who feeds me like my own grandma did, and
especially Michelle, Nicola and Caterina, kindred spirits who like me happened across this place and put down
roots here because they see here what I see. And wouldn’t trade it, or live eslewhere.
This lovely lady Calabria. Who continues to astound with her indefatigable spirit, gentleness and open arms.
This princess Calabria, blessed by God with incredible beauty, warmth and tranquility. This mother Calabria
who has taught her children life’s most important lessons so well and in some mysterious way has indelibly
marked the spirits and personalities of generations of her sons and daughters here and across the globe,
many of whom come back for nothing more than to recharge their spirit in the warmth of her embrace.
Basta,
Marty
The weather has been what can only be described as picture perfect. Each day, the blazing sun ascends the
height of the sky, coaxing young and old towards the sea for long walks or frolic on the beach, or warming those
who are laboring beneath their olive trees.
In beach towns, fresh paint is being applied to lido concessions and men armed with rakes are removing the
last vestiges of plants and debris washed ashore in winter storms. Fishing boats that have been winched up
onto the sand are being scrapped and painted in bright colors while balancing precariously on their slim keel
beams.
Young friends meet on the beach to do whatever they do.. seems like a lot of chasing followed by long
discussions, then more chasing.. ..somebody will end up in the sea.. In a few minutes they are wrapped in a
beach towel and back to their routine. Intrepid fishermen and women often wearing wet suits and hats to keep
the sun at bay are beginning to line up along the shore ocean fishing, each with several long poles firmly
planted into the sand next to a five gallon pail for their catch. The seniors are even walking barefoot along the
shoreline splashing in the sea foam, practicing what will become a summer routine.
Here, along the Ionian shore in Calabria, the quality of life must be measured with a different kind of ruler. An
early morning walk through the park or bustling local mercato is looked on with anticipation. On market day it
seems like the whole town turns out to see the new offerings from clothes and house furnishings to fresh fish,
flowers and fruit from the local farmers.
Admittedly, sometimes my decision to spend time here is based on a desire to get far away from the incessant
barrage of partisan politics and the issues that are so divisive back home. It is tough for me to accept that our
military uses most of our oil, and has an open check book, but our states are broke, our roads need repair, and
social benefits are… well, you get my point. To be sure, the class war that is taking place in the U.S. is not lost
on the people of Calabria. Purtroppo, here, they lost that war long ago. Here too, people face real economic
issues and must get by on less across most every economic dimension you can imagine, and for sure struggle.
But they seem to do it together.
I guess my true answer if there must be one, is that I come here to live a simple life among the people of my
village, and on meeting, greet the many friends that I have with a handshake or hug. Anibale and Antonio at
the gas station, Aldo at the edicola, Concetta and Lucia at the tabaccheria, Domenico, Francesco, Andrea,
Fiore, and Pasqualino at their bars and coffee shops, Vicenzo and Patrizio at the grocers, Giacamo at the
Insurance agency, Antonio and CheChe at the car repair shop, Raffaiello the gommista, Tony who fixes
computers, Domenico and Francesca our first acquaintances here, Pasquale the village statesman and
philosopher, Giueseppe and Chenzo, who built our house, Nicola and Rina who always make us laugh,
Vincenzo who lets me pick olives with him, and his wife Rossa who feeds me like my own grandma did, and
especially Michelle, Nicola and Caterina, kindred spirits who like me happened across this place and put down
roots here because they see here what I see. And wouldn’t trade it, or live eslewhere.
This lovely lady Calabria. Who continues to astound with her indefatigable spirit, gentleness and open arms.
This princess Calabria, blessed by God with incredible beauty, warmth and tranquility. This mother Calabria
who has taught her children life’s most important lessons so well and in some mysterious way has indelibly
marked the spirits and personalities of generations of her sons and daughters here and across the globe,
many of whom come back for nothing more than to recharge their spirit in the warmth of her embrace.
Basta,
Marty
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