Walking through the
streets of Naples, you breathe more than air.
The air is
saturated with passion. And with
love. The history of the city and its
surrounding areas has created a culture and a language (because the Neapolitan
dialect really is just that) so unique.
What I find striking, and most impressive, is how shared it is. The elements of history, politics and
language that make Naples what it is are clear, silently agreed upon, and
nearly everyone is knowledgeable enough to discuss it with you. They know their history impeccably well. Better than most Americans, especially young
Americans, know theirs.
Despite the pride
with which they watch the Italian national soccer team compete in international
cups during the year, many Neapolitans will identify first and foremost with
their city- not their country. In fact,
at dinner the other night, one of my uncles expressly stated that he isn’t
Italian. When I asked then what he was,
he replied “Il Regno delle Due Sicilie”, or Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. The city, as I have mentioned in an earlier
post, was ruled by different monarchies throughout history. Naples served as the capital- an important
international city to which people traveled from all over the world. It had wealth, prestige, and respect.
Things have
changed.
Italy was unified
in 1861. For many people in Naples
however, and in fact for many people in all of southern Italy, the term “Italian
Unification” leaves a bad taste in their mouths. From a southern Italian perspective, Italy
was unified mostly by force, and little by desire. The peninsula was home to a large range of
territories with a variety of governing systems, languages and cultures,
customs and traditions. In fact,
Metternich once referred to Italy as merely a “geographic expression”. In the formative years leading up to 1861,
there were many people for whom Italy, both the word and the idea that it could
represent a unified state, meant nothing.
Although I’ve taken
European history and have done some reading on the topic, I, personally, have a
lot more to learn before I can form an opinion on the matter. But I’m not explaining all of this to lead up
to my opinion. I’m explaining it all
because without all of this Naples today would not be what it is. The people would not be the same. The passion, the unconditional love for their
home, would not exist. And that would be
a shame.
Neapolitans,
despite the hardship they have faced and continue to face, are immensely proud
to be who they are, and from that pride comes a warmth and hospitality so
unique, so natural and so inviting. They
want to share their history with you.
They want to share their culture, their cuisine, their way of life, and
the beautiful Neapolitan sense of humor that I grew up around.
Our day yesterday
began at my aunt’s house in Varcaturo, which is something like a suburb of
Naples, though not in the way Americans know suburbs. (I’ve yet to see that kind of place
here). We took ‘la Cumana’ into the
city. La Cumana is sort of a cross
between the subway and the Long Island Railroad. It is like the subway in that it is dirty,
covered in graffiti, with very little room to sit, and very, very hot. But, unlike the subway and more like the
LIRR, it is above ground, and comes from the outskirts of the city inwards,
with the final stop being Montesanto, what I guess would be like a much smaller
Penn Station.
We drove one town
over to Licola, where the train station is.
It looks abandoned.
Honestly. There is nobody working
behind the window, despite there being enough room for two, maybe three,
tellers. You buy your tickets at a place
nearby. (What kind of place, I’m unsure,
as my aunt sent Matteo to go buy them).
Our ride in was about forty-five minutes.
Upon our arrival,
Zia Antonella took is “in giro”. She took
us to a number or piazzas, sights and churches the names of which, much like
the streets, have all meshed together in my mind. Naples, although small, is not the easiest
place to navigate. The streets, with a
couple of exceptions, are narrow, made of unevenly laid cobblestone God knows
how long ago, but all incredibly beautiful, and each a little different than
the last.
After going around
to the more important sights, we took a stroll down a street known as “Spacca
Napoli”. The street runs the length of
nearly the entire city, and cuts it straight down the middle. Eventually, you can turn off of Spacca Napoli
onto Via San Gregorio Armeno, where you can find the stores of both my uncles
Zio Mauro and Zio Daniele. They both own
very typical Neapolitan shops which sell ‘presepi’, which are handmade
backgrounds or sceneries. People then
buy things to fill them with. The
pictures below are examples, though they are from a different, much older, shop
of the same kind.
Then came
pizza. Before anyone has the chance to
tell you otherwise, pizza is very much a Neapolitan thing. It started here, was perfected here, and the
best ingredients for it come from here.
In fact, the Pizza Margherita is so called because it was named for
Queen Margherita of Savoy came for a visit in 1889. Pizza, like much of the cuisine here, comes
from necessity. When there is little to
be had, and only very basic ingredients to work with, how do you make something
that tastes like more? Think about what
a pizza is at its core: bread, olive oil, tomatoes, mozzarella. So the success
the product has had world wide- and the price to which it has risen in many
places- is actually quite amusing.
After lunch, my
cousin Luciano, who is two years older than I am, took Ellen, Liz and I around
the historic center of the city, and around the part of the city where all of
the universities are located. This is my
favorite part of the city. It is so old,
so historic, full of history, but at the same time the students help to make it
full of life. They mix old ideas with
new ideas, old passions with new passions, to create a contrast between past and present.
We then took a journey
through Napoli Sotteranea, or Naples Underground. Naples, having been Greek and Roman before
being French and Spanish, is a city built on top of itself. Underneath modern day Naples still exists an
expansive system of aqueducts, cisterns and waterways from ancient times. And we walked through it- at one point by
candle light through a very narrow passageway (originally intended for water,
not humans). Once again, Naples’ past
became undeniably relevant to its present.
We opted to give ourselves
a linguistic challenge, and chose to follow an Italian tour, not an English
one. Although we were asked by two
different people beforehand whether we were absolutely positive we wanted to do
that, and after even Luciano said it was difficult to follow even for some
Italians, we stayed true to our choice.
Although we didn’t catch every single word, between the three of us, and
the helpful visuals, we understood a good amount. Luckily, despite the initial wariness of
others, the young man who actually guided the tour seemed pleased to see
students of Italian making a valiant effort.
After our tour, it
was time to go home, where we rested our weary tourist legs after a long day of
walking. I don’t think any of us felt
too much like tourists, though. At least
not the bad, annoying kind. That
probably has a lot to do with the fact that we were there with a family of locals,
and made a consistent effort to speak as much Italian as possible.
That night for
dinner, my aunt made the most delicious pasta con i frutti di mare
(seafood). As per usual, after eating we
lingered at the table, talking and laughing, drinking wine, and just taking as
much time as we needed to enjoy everything that had happened and was
happening. It is a very Italian thing to
do, a very Italian state of mind, and something that I am growing to like very
much.
