My Scholarship entry - A local encounter that changed my life

trvlgrl24 — Sun, 22 Apr 2012 02:32:00 GMT

Hundreds of wind turbines dotted the hilltops as my taxi transported me through the Italian countryside and, it seemed, back in time. I was on a mission to fulfill a promise I made to my “grampa” many years ago to visit his place of birth. I chuckled to myself as I recalled his tales, told in his heavy Italian accent, of the goats with "biga, biga, teats!” We spent hours on his gold sofa as he mused over a simpler time, proudly showing me each and every photo in his tattered black and white album.

Darkness drew nigh as I relaxed at a small café in this diminutive village of Roseto Valfortore. Tourists are rare in this tiny town, so it wasn’t surprising when a robust little man with graying, curly hair approached me, proclaiming, “My name is Domenico DelGrosso. I speaka English. I cana help you if you like.” His accent was heavy; reminiscent of Grampa’s. I explained that I was on a pilgrimage of sorts, to the town that my grandfather spoke so fondly of. He made a face mimicking disapproval. After a short silence he asked, “Did your grampa have a sister named Bibiana, one named Giovanna, a brother named Joe…” I interjected, “Yes! This is my family!” He exclaimed, “I am your cousin!”

We huddled together at the table as he deftly scribbled a family tree illustrating our kinship. Minutes later, we were sauntering down the narrow cobblestone streets. I marveled at the stasis that seemingly afflicted this village as he showed me my still-standing great-grandmother’s house. We capped off our tour with a wonderful nighttime barbecue in the family’s garden that included an old stove and a picnic table canopied by grape vines. We feasted on pasta, chicken, bread, grapes, prosciutto, fresh ricotta cheese and homemade wine. With a twinkle in his eye, Domenico looked over at my empty plate and barked at me, “If you wanta more food, you cana helpa youself, and if you don’t, then that’s a you problem.” For a minute I was sure it was Grampa’s voice, welcoming me home.

Photos: Egypt

trvlgrl24 — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 14:58:00 GMT

Roseto Valfortore: Rooting For My Roots

My Scholarship entry - A local encounter that changed my life

Photos: Egypt