The last apartment I lived in during my time in Piegaro was in the “immigrant part of town” as some of the ladies called it. Seeing how the town is so small, it is hard to imagine one location with many immigrants, but there was one street with many of us, actually it was a “C” shaped area that circled part of the old prince’s palace and current hotel. I was the only American among the Romanians, Albanians and Macedonians along with a few Italians from other parts of the country.
A universal phenomenon of most immigrants is that they live in community with some family members in this new land with them, most do not travel, or move alone. There is the occasional arrival of one who married into this new community and became part of the local fabric, the local family, but most who come to a new community arrive with some family members. They arrive with their own built in support system.
When one of the local women expressed concern that I would live in this immigrant neighborhood, I found it ironic, seeing how I was obviously from another country, barely speaking the Italian of my friends and neighbors. But she was pointing to what is the situation of most immigrants, that their own country could not support the population with jobs and livelihoods, so some would have to leave in order to just survive. These were the poorest their country had to offer in some cases, those who would become the unskilled laborers, the heavy lifters and the caregivers who most often receive the lowest wage jobs. The fact that I came from an affluent country and had an advanced education separated me from these folks in her mind.
Yet it was as friendly a neighborhood as any, with my neighbors sharing and caring for me in sweet ways. The first week I lived in the neighborhood I had gone to bed at an early hour for Europeans and when the "guys" gathered outside for conversation, as their normal practice, I heard one say, "the American sleeps early, let's talk over there." When I ill in bed a couple of days, one of the ladies asked if I was o.k. because she noticed I was inside a lot. They also brought me food from their harvests and were so sweet in many ways.
My friend was correct, there were economic and cultural differences, but the lack of family for me proved an even greater difference. In the culture of Italy, and for most of the world, family is so important, companionship is important. In this small neighborhood, almost all of the folks had some extended family in town. For me arrive alone was not only unusual, but would invite some of my friends to inquire frequently about who I was going to do various things with, there was a concern that I would be alone. It had me thinking, but even more over, had me feeling a deep understanding of what was behind their sentiments.
Many of my neighbors were in Piegaro for economic reasons, or because someone in their family needed them here for support. Those who were as “alone” as I was, in particular one who has lived in Piegaro for a long time, thought about returning to be closer to family, that the benefits of living with less resources and more relationship was worth it. Much of my pondering around staying or going had to do with relationships not only with family, but with those who had a common culture and language that was expressed in banter, jokes and context that was regionally specific. It was about relationship and communication, something at the heart of priorities for my friends in Italy, something they shared as much as they could based on my limited speaking skills.
At Mary’s Place so many of the women, when telling their stories of life at Mary’s, speak to the importance of the relationship they have with the other women, the support that they give one another. They speak in terms of new family, community, a sense of place and home. Many of these women have permanent housing, and have had for years since their first encounter with Mary’s as a homeless woman. They all need, WE all need, what was very readily available in Piegaro, what is sometimes hard to find in our American mobile culture, a sense of belonging, place and relationship. The same things the immigrants looked for in coming in groups rather than coming solo.
How do you find or make community?
How do you participate in support systems of give and take, of good communication?
Where do you find grace in participating in the life of community, or in being an outsider?
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