Monday, October 20, 2008
Today, we set off for Moliterno, the hill town in Basilicata that was home to both of my paternal grandparents. The drive, guided by our GPS, took us on a route for which a description as “back roads” would be considered an upgrade! As we traveled the barely one-lane roads, past farms that seemed far removed from the 21st century, I thought of my grandmother who, perhaps, moved along the same roads when she left her home by horse-drawn carriage on the four or five day trip to Naples, where she embarked for New York in 1901.
As we drew close to Moliterno, we began to climb above a valley of verdant farmland. Rather than take the “new” approach to town, which tunneled through the mountain, we chose to drive the winding road through the forested slopes that wore the glorious colors of fall. Once in town, we stopped first at the cemetery. My grandmother’s maiden name is much more common in Moliterno than my grandfather’s (who died when my father was ten and about whom I know very little), so we were searching for her side of the family. After an interesting recap of the history of immigration from Moliterno, the helpful gentleman at the cemetery advised us to go to the town hall, where a directory was kept of who was buried where.
With the help of yet another friendly citizen, we found the Records Office in the town hall and then things really came together. We were able to communicate with the clerk, who did not speak English, and, armed with my grandmother’s birth year and month, she went to a file cabinet and pulled out the Birth Registry from that year, 1881. After some initial difficulty, a smile came over her face; not only had she found the official hand-written record of my grandmother’s birth, but she saw that my great-grandmother’s surname was her own! I had tears in my eyes as I looked at the register and tried to take it all in. The clerk then typed and stamped three times (this is Italy, after all!) a document with all the pertinent information, which, she told me, is proof enough for me to obtain an Italian passport. (We shall see; this is contrary to other things I’d read previously.)
As we left the office, I examined the document and found that it contained the address of the house in which Grandma was born! Our trusty GPS gave us to believe that it was very close to where we were, so we took off into streets that were just a few feet wide and that climbed stairs and wound back and forth. When we were within a couple of hundred feet of the address, we met an old lady (who could have been my grandmother!) who insisted on walking (climbing) along to help us. We found the narrow street, but many of the houses were numberless. Then, neighbors began coming out of their homes and leaning out of their windows to be a part of the hunt. Our story was repeated, commented upon, surnames remembered, and stories told (not fully understood by us) about others with the same surname, etc. Everyone wanted in on the action, but no one could say for sure which of the numberless houses was the correct one. We came close enough for me, if not for them, and we tore ourselves away with some difficulty.
Back in the little town square, we decided to stop in the small library to ask where in town we might find public bathrooms and a public Internet point. I think I already knew the answer to both questions, and the librarian made us feel very much at home as we checked e-mail and posted the pent-up blog entries Tom had on his thumb drive. When I told the librarian about my own career, she was delighted and rushed to give us a poster of Moliterno and ask us to return.
After a picnic in front of the medieval castle overlooking a neighboring town with a long section of a Roman aqueduct, we headed off for yet another archeological site that Tom had discovered, the Roman ruins at Grumentum. By now, you know the drill: forum, arena, houses, baths, mosaics, temples, basilicas, and amphitheater, so I’ll say no more.
This was a memorable day, truly a highlight of our trip.
Ciao for now!
Mary Ellen
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