Zio Daniele's store is more than just a workplace. It's a gathering place. All day long various friends and family members, neighbors and acquaintances, stop by per fare due chiacchiere, which means to chat. Some had to pass by there anyway, others simply had nothing better to do. These moments, although casual in nature and not planned in advanced, are completely expected. Certain faces are expected, and they are welcomed. They have inside jokes to make, and gossip to share. Stories to tell and messages to deliver.
What I noticed most about these conversations is the prominence of the dialect. Neapolitan, although similar to Italian in some ways, is its own language- I, along with Italians from other parts of Italy, understand very little of it- and the day at my uncle's store was the first day since September where I didn't understand the majority of the conversations I listened to. Florence has a dialect as well, but it's much closer to Italian (Italian was actually based on Florentine). I never once overheard a conversation in Florence, whether it be on the street or in a store or restaurant, that I couldn't follow because it strayed so far from Italian. Additionally, I noticed that in Florence there are a lot of negative connotations associated with the dialect (and with those who speak it). In Naples it's different. I'm constantly asking for explanations and translations. A lot of stores sell things with traditional Neapolitan sayings and proverbs. I even have a Neapolitan-Italian dictionary, and book of Neapolitan grammar.
I think it has to do with identity. More specifically, it has to do with expressing identity. Speaking Neapolitan for many people may not be a conscious choice- it's the language they grew up with. A desire or need to express their Neapolitan identity may not be on their minds, but a person who wasn't proud of or who didn't like said identity would speak Italian- and that's what makes the difference. Two of the books I've read so far this summer mention this idea. Both books are written by authors who struggle with their napoletanita' - it's not an identity or an association they like or are proud of, and in a way they look down on the dialect and those who speak it. In Naples, therefore, language is a choice, even if that choice isn't made consciously. Neapolitan speakers don't necessarily wake up and say "I'm going to speak Neapolitan because I'm comfortable with that part of my identity and want to express it", but the result is the same. Their identity is expressed via their language.
My favorite part of the day was getting a better understanding of il presepe. I had never gotten to really see my uncle work and create before, and it was impressive to see not just what he can create with his own hands, but also the kind of thought that goes into deciding what pieces to create and sell. They make their decisions based on demand, of course, but also on tradition. Il presepe dates back to the 1600s (if not earlier), and the people who make them are very aware of their historical significance. My uncle, and the other artisans like him on the same street, all at once are artists and businessmen, historians and time keepers. They take the old and make a place for it in today's world.
I had never realized it before, but il presepe is an incredibly accessible art form. It gives anyone who dedicates the time the chance to be a poet, an artist. A lot of planning goes into il presepe- what size, what kind of scenes and people and images. So much thought goes into the choices made, and each choice is the representation of a feeling or opinion or idea. Each choice is a symbol of something greater. At one point, a man came into the store looking for a small chair. He had two pieces already- a seated woman and a table, and wanted a chair to accompany them. We had a conversation about what kind of chair it should be, but first it was necessary to decide what kind of table it was. Perhaps the woman was selling things, or perhaps it was a dinner table. When the client picked a chair, he put the seated woman on one side of the table and the empty chair across from her. We then had a conversation about why the chair was empty. Forse aspetta qualcuno, perhaps she is waiting for someone. Who is she waiting for? Why is she waiting?
Given its centuries long history, il presepe has become an important part of people's lives. It's a standard decoration in a Neapolitan home. I think when a population has centuries of history and traditions (you know, unlike America), even the simplest most modest people prioritize art. All of the conversations that took place that day, like the one about the empty chair, are conversations that I couldn't imagine having with people at home, at least not outside of a college campus. At home we reserve this kind of thinking for such a small portion of the population, and that's a real shame.
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